Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1885-08-27

the place was large or small-a cellar
or we'll By what possible agency
could have been hurled into this
pit? [ had paced over the whole room
and there certainly was no opening in
the floor, unless it had been most
carefully masked. Besides this, felt
sure that my fall had beer much
greater than the distance from the
room | had slept Ia to the cellar. NV
brain was still somewhat clouded by
the blow my head had received, and
which | thought had been struck Just
before my fall, or, rather, before my
being violently thrown downward.
fortunately nay pistol was still in
my hand and the box of cartrid res in
my pocket. | felt carefully for the
wall, placed my back against it, and,
determining TO sell my life dearly ii
attacked, waited moment in silence.
All was still. Taking the box as
noiselessly as possible from the pocket
of my night shirt | reloaded the pts
toll. Still nothing. But I was freez
ing. The Shiny stones beneath my
bare feet We're rapidly chilling my
blood. If [ fire my pistol. thought,
| may see where ] am. I fired twice.
sit was the cellar which I had al
ready visited. had only, then, fal
len some ten or twelve feet. I al
once remembered that to this cellar
there was a door leading by an exter.
nal fight of stone steps to the ground
IN front of the room IL which I had
slept. Another shot showed me the
door, on which, however, there was q
heavy, old fashioned lock without q
key. Half dozen shots from my re
volver broke the rusted iron-and ]
was free!
Covered with blood and slime,
stood at length beneath the stars; my
head ached violently, my teeth chat
tered WITH cold, but ! was free! O.
the delight of that moments! Free!
"My first feeling was that it was
my duty to call some Of the men and
search the house; but that could moi
bring myself to do. No, [ must moi
be seen by them In such a plight, nol
must they come until had solved the
mystery. Ny own outer door was toe
securely bolted to force open; but
making nay way through another en-
trance, I easily blew the lock off of ar
inner door OF communication. Grasp
ing my pistol tightly / cautiously en-
tered. There, directly across the roona
was the figure!
Bang! bang and [ sent two more
bullets crashing through it. What
ever it was it certainly was no
living thing. II not, what them
What or who had struck me the
blow? What had opened the solid
floor and cast me into the pit beneath
With eye and ear upon the alert,
ready for, human or other, I. reach
ed the table where the lamp stood and
felt for a match, None. But I had
some in my pocket. My clothes were
upon the other side of the bed. /
went slowly around, found the match
es came back to the table, and. keeps
ing my pistol IN my right hand. rev
moved the globe and chimney of the
lamp, struck q light, took a hurried
look about the room, put the fire TO
the wick, replaced the chimney, and
turned again to that white mystery.
There itstood; but what it was [ GER
tainly could not guess at. One thing
was certain, it had not been there
when / went to bed. In the light il
looked like a great white box some
ten feet high, open on the sides, and
standing against the wall opposite the
foot OF my bed. Taking up the lamp
I walked towards it. WHAT'S that on
top? By heavens, it is my trunk
What do you think my ghost
was? it was an old, white painted
dumb waiter leading to the former
kitchen Ny trunk had CHANGED to be
placed directly on its tor, which was
level with and formed part of the
floor. The jar and the footsteps had
loosened its old weights had taken
the tray of clothes from the trunk,
and the dumb waiter, gradually
loosend, had shot up-as such things
will at times do--a couple of hours
later. 1t had long been disused and
the shelving removed, When, there
fore, I rushed at it I had simply fall
en- into hole, some three feet by
two, ia the floor between the eleva~
tors sides; had struck Gae bottom
board, the machine had gone down
with me, and, my weight removed,
had again risen. had knocked my
mead against some corner as / fell,
and come down very hard on the
stones paving the former kitchen,
had cut myself on some projectin G
edge-for there were two pretty bad
places from which the blood still drip
ped-and that was my ghost; that
had hurled nae into that awful pit.
did you ever hear of a ghost do
ing more? [ never heard of one who
could do half so much.
But just think, if I had gone,
barefooted and bedraggled, called
up my men, and led them on to com
bat with an old, white dumb~waiterl /"