The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1884-06-26

He left his door open. Guess he amt
comm back After moment he con-
tinued: There's another comm down
them other stairs he's natty lookin'
fellow; light skin, blue eyes, light brown
hair, youngern any of the rest. He's
lookin' inter that room that big Teller
come cut of, right there by the stairs:
Why, he looks as if he'd seen somethin.
Now he's goin' in. Now he'scomin' out
again, putin somethin' in his pocket
looks kinder scared like.
II directed him to keep his eye on
this man, and follow him wherever he
went. We followed him down the stairs
and into the street. Here comes anoth-
er teller. He's speakin' to him. He
looks an awful lot like him, only older
They are whisperin' together. He's
goin' with him. Now we are goin' by
the Methodist meetin' house. There's
Judge Clark comm Why didn't YOU
speak to him. Go on. Go on. You
will lose sight of those men, said I.
Judge Clark, whom everybody had
known and loved, had been dead three
years. They are goin' inter that old
lumber yard. They are dom some
thin in that corner. As sure's you
live they're buryin' that little yeller
bundle tied with pink string. He got
that outer that feller's room this morn
in He's a tellin' how he seen it stick
in out under his piller when he went by
the door, My subject had now been
under influence as long as I thought it
safe to keep him there for that day. So
l placed the notes my friend had made
in the drawer, unbandaged his eyes, and
brought him back to his normal condi-
ton by a quick upward motion of my
hand. AS he opened his eyes the dazed,
troubled expression seen in the eyes of
somnambulist on first regaining con-
seriousness came into them for second,
but he was utterly unconscious of any,
thing which had occurred, supposing it
to have been one of our usual expert
mcnts, and was too dull and Indifferent
even to ask.
AT the same hour the next day we
again met at my room, according to ap-
pointment, and took the same positions
Blindfolding my subject, I told him to
go bs ok and take up the clew. He
soon found the man again. I told him
that he must now condense time, count
ing every six hours as one, in order to
catch up in the week. He readily COM
pretended, although in his normal con-
dition it would have taken him week
to have understood me, and Immediate
ly passed over six hours Now said
he, it is night, and he is in bed. He
feels bad, and can't sleep, turnin' and
tossin' and gettin' up every few minutes,
wishin' it was mornin'. Jumping over
another six hours he described his
getting up, his hurried breakfast, his
worried and anxious manner, his de-
parture from the tavern, his again
meeting his brother, who seemed to be
waiting for him. 'They are goin' down
that street, said he. Now they're
climin' up them steps and goin' inter
that door. Stand back said he, AN
let me open the door. Come in. This
is carpenter shop. They're down by
that chest. There they've got that
little bundle agin. Now they're hidin'
it in the chest. They hid it in the lum-
Der yard once. Now they're hidin' it
here an whisperin' together. The
young ones agoin' out As we fol-
lowed he again startled me by
calling my attention to meeting
and being spoken to by friend
long since dead! We had description
Of another anxious, restless night, and
another day-my subject always leading
me and we followed the clew. After
dismissing our somnambulist my friend
and myself as before went over every
rod of the ground we had just been
travelling mentally and visited the car
penter shop, where the subject said the
money was hidden. We then under
stood why he requested me to stand
back while he opened the door. We
found that the stairs, which he climbed
on the outside, led up to a small plat
form. The door opened outward, and
a person entering must step aside to al
low it room to swing.
EAT our third sitting we had brought
The time down to within two days of our
present date. This time, in following
our man around, he came across the
bridge, and step by step we followed him
to our hotel. Now he's goin' inter the
stage Office said he. He's givin' Mr..
Walton, the stage agent, a paper. 1t
looks like bill. Mr.. Walton is givin
him some money on tells him to sign the
paper. Read the name he signs said
I. L can't said he, Mr.. Walton has
folded it up an put it in the left-hand
corner of his desk. There's bundle of
other papers just like it in there With
out disturbing him in his comments I
picked up a scrap ofpaper and penciled
a note to Mr.. Walton requesting him to
send me package of receipts in the
right hand corner of his desk. Mr.. Mil
Ter took it down and directly returned
with the package, and some twenty or
more, which I did not unfold, but spread
around on the table within reach of our
somnambulist's hand, which as ! have
before said, he never removed from the
table. He had been entirely unconscious
of what we had done: but kept up his
running comments, following the man
back asross the canal and to various
| places, when all at once lie moved his
hand towards the papers and exclaimed,
| why, here's that paper now; the very
one he gave Mr.. Walton Without hest
tating second he picked up one of the
folded papers, and without unfolding it,
also without even turning his bandaged
| eyes toward it, he read:
Received from Samuel Walton, June,
| 1S47. one dollar and fifty cents in full
! of all accounts.
JAMES r. FREEMAN.
Here was the name OF our man at last.
We knew him by sight, Wells and I, and
that he had a brother, a carpenter.
| They were considered honest and res
pectable. We were getting the facts
down to fine point, but the difficulty
would be in the proof. How could a
man be convicted on the testimony of a