The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1889-12-20
gross injustice. BY God, it is infam-

you know what I mean," oontin-
ued the writer impetuously, crowding
his words-"You know what / mean,
Marsh. My stuff in this mornings
Messenger is plainly subheaded "A
Ghost Story That is ample notice to
all; every honorable reader will under.
Observation-Disclosures which the
work is to be read"
The gentleman addressed as Marsh
WINGED a trife, then asked with
smile: "What conditions? How,
when, where should I.read.your ghost
story?'
"In solitude--at nightly the light
of candle. There are certain emo
tions which writer can easily enough
excite--such as compassion or merri.
ment. | can move you to tears or
laughter under almost any circumstan.
ces. But for my ghost story to be eff
fective you must he made to feel fear
at least, strong sense of the super
natural-and that Is a different matter.
| have right to expect that il you
read me at ali you will give me a
chance; that you will make yourself
accessible to the emotion which / try
to inspire
The car had now arrived at its ter
minus and stopped. The trip just
completed was its first for the day,
and the conversation of the two had
not been interrupted.
"Do you mean to say" Marsh began
"jhat if | take the trouble to observe
your directions-place myself in the
condition which you demand; solitude,
night, and tallow candle-you can
with your ghastlest work give me an
uncomfortable sense of the supernatur.
al, accelerate my pulse, make me start
at sudden noises, and nervous chill
along my spine and cause my hair to
rise?"
Colston turned suddenly and looked
MIN squarely in the eyes as they walk
ed. "You would not dare-you have
not the courage he said. He empha-
sized the words with contemptuous
gesture. "You are brave enough to
read me IN a street car; but-in a de-
serted ho1se-alone-in the forest-at
niglN Bah! / have a manuscript in
iny pocket which would kill YOU"
Marsh was angry. He knew him
self a man of courage and the words
stung him. "If You know such
pl ace" he said, ''take ME there tonight
and leave me your story and candle
Call fer me when I've had time en-
ough to read it, aud I'll tell you the
entire plot 'and-kick you out of the
place"
That is how it occurred that the
farmers boy, looking in at an unglaz-
ed window of the Breede house, saw a
man sitting In the light of candle.
Late in the afternoon of the next
day three men and boy approached
the Breede house from that point of
the compass toward which the boy had
lid the preceding night. They were
in high spirits apparently; they talked
loudly and laughed. They made face
tlous and good humored ironical re-
marks to the boy about his adventure,
which evidently they did not believe
in. He accepted the raillery, with
seriousness, making no reply.
Arriving at the house and finding
the door bolted on the inside, the party
OF Investigators entered without furth-
er ceremony than breaking it down.
Leading out of the passage into which
this door had opened was another on
the right aud one on the left. These
two doors also were fastened, and
were broken in. They entered at ran
dom the one on the left first. 1t was
vacant. In the room on the right
the one which had the black front
windows-was the dead body of a
man.
1t lay partly on one side, with the
forearm beneath it, the cheek on the
floor. The eyes were wide open the
stare was not an agreeable thing to en-
counter. The lower jaw had fallen d
| tile pool of saliva had collected be.
meath the mouth An overthrown
table, a partly burned candle, a chair
and paper with some writing on il
were all else that the room contained
The men looked at the body, touching
the face in turn. The boy gray ely
stood at the head, assuming look! O.
ownership. 1t was the proudest mo
ment of his life. One of the men sale
to him. You're a good una re
mark which was received by the two
others with mods of acquiescence. |
was Skepticism apologizing to Truth
The one of the men took from tn,
floor the sheet of manuscript and step
ped to the window, for already tn,
evening shadows were cleaning tn
forest. The song of the whip-poor-wil
was heard in the distance and q mon
strous beetle sped by the window o.
roaring wings.
"Before committing the act, whic
rightly or wrongly have resolved OF
and appearing before my Maker fo
judgment, |, James. r. Colston, deer
1t my duty as journalist TO make
statement to the public. My name
, | believe, tolerably well known to th
= people as writer of tragic tales, BIT
the somberest imagination never COZ
ceived anything so gloomy as my ow
life and history; Not in incident m
history has been destitute OF adventul
/ and action. But my mental career hi
? been lurid with experiences such
kill and damn. | shall not recou
y them hcre-some of them are write
! and ready for publication elsewher
= The object of these few lines is
y explain to whomsoever may
interested that my death is volunta
- my own act, | shall die at
/ o'clock in the evening on the 18th
). July significant anniversary to II
i for it was on that day and at tn
u hour that my friend in time and eter
II ity, Charles Breede, performed
e vow. to me by the same act which fiji
Is ity to our pledge now entails upon m'
:. he took his life in his little house in Coz
=. ton woods. There was the custom5