The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1890-09-26
AN 100000 SECRET IN HIS HEAD
Gunsmith Crosby, the Hermit, Whom
Uncle Sam Couldn't Buy.
From the Nelc York Sun.

PAOShbFlDNE, hASS., sept. HU.-OQ Lle
wall behind the stovepipe in the Office Of the
Stone hotel at Great Darlington hangs a
crayon portrait, life size, of queer genius. 1t
is that of assround-headed man, with slightly
convex face. shelving forehead, somewhat
shelving chin, and with wide-open, wide
looking eyes. The original of the sketch
is Clinton Crosby, recluse, gunsmith, Is
years old. He is borer of gun barrels as
we'll.
Clinton Crosby came from Connecticut.
the land of inventors, forty wears ago. and
has dwelt alone in the mountains since.
What part OF the land of steady habits was
his birthplace and early home no one knows
he does not talk much, least all about him
self and his history. But this much is
known: In youth and early manhood he
was spruce, smart, good looking, and his
head was packed full of thinking brains
He fell in love with Connecticut belle in a
country village. and the maiden professed
to be in love with Clinton.
Whether she ever really loved him,
or, thirsting for conquest, only pre-
tended an affection she did not feel, is not
known; but finally she Tilted him, married
another man, raised a houseful of babies,
and lived very happily, as most women do
in similar instances But Crosby was of
different metal; he took life seriously, and
this first affair of the heart spoiled him en-
tirely. His head went wrong. He became
odd, yet remained shrewd and sensible
enough withal, soured on the world, turned
hermit, and settled in the mountains
about Great Darlington. One morn
village nearly forty years ago, bought
lumber, dragged it into the forest, and
built two-story house over a wild stream
in black gorge among the hills. He has
dwelt theresin Now and then he comes
into the village for supplies and has a few
friends there. He sauntered down the
street in the village one day this week, a
big, bony man, dressed in backwoodsman's
garb, with. piercing, wide-open blue eyes,
and carrying slender steel wand, which he
wrought himself and uses for a walking
stick. 1t is a-tifteen-minute walk from the
broad central street of Great Darlington TO
Crosby's hut in the dense woods in the gorge
over Prospect mountain. 1t is worth any
mans while to visit the hermit.
Tt most remarkable thing about Crosby
is that he carries in his head secret that
is worth 100000. The United States gov
erument wants that secret, but Crosby
won't sell it. A mechanic of wonderful
ingenuity, he discovered many years ago a
method for boring gun and rifle barrels far
superior to any other in the world. A bar
rel bored by him is endowed with extraor-
binary -propelling force, penetration and
marvellous precision. How the old man
ever managed to do such work in shop in
which little machinery is to be seen is a
profound mystery.
Though he lives alone and is not over
fond of society, yet he receives every one
who calls at his home in good style. Follow
a wild mountain road with manifold turn
ipgs to his shaggy, implanted hut; cross a
little grassy glade to the rough heavy front
door and rapson the panels. The rap echoes
in the hollow house and then there is perfect
silence again, interrupted only now and
then bv the twitter of shy forest birds in
the boughs Of distant trees The windows
of the dwelling are open, and soon the Wis
itor hears the ieisurely shuttle of Crosby
coming in response to the rap. or giant
frame that is somewhat bowed, with I'M
shaven face ablaze with eyes that Rave an
almost furiously intent look the host is the
sort of man whose face alone would fright
en- timid visitor into the woods again. He
shakes bands WITH his caller, leads him into
his workshop, directs him to take seat,
and then with an air OF unfathomabie Sc
crecy, bolts all the doors and shuts and
fGstens all the windows. Such reception
from such man, with such fierce eyes, is
not at all agreeable to persons unaccus-
toned to encounter all sorts of queer people;
but Crosby means nothing worse than a
morbid and eccentric precaution against
the eavesdropping world. He has simply
grown to revel in his little serio-comic play
of hiding an $500, 900 mechanical secret;
vet. all his precautions are oddly theatrical,
and nothing more, for If the inventor has
any telltale appliances, the exhibition of
which might betray his secret, surely they
are invisible. There is not even a turning
lathe to be seen in his shop. All his tools,
it is said, are hidden.
After locking himself and visitors into
the workroom, Crosby comes right up to
his visitor, squares away at him. and lets
drive a conversational broadside on any
thing and everything at a rate that would
rum a typewriter in thirty minutes Yet,
interrupt his volley of language with
question about his great invention, and
instantly he becomes as secretive and
taciturn as an image.
The OLD man hasn't done much work for
many years. 1t is almost impossible to
persuade him to bore rifle or gun barrel
for money now, though he will do the job
for a trusted friend, if in the mood for it.
He does very little work of any kind. and,
though SIS year is ample income for him,
he is forced TO live more frugally each year.
Now and then he mends a gun lock, and is
very expert at the work, and is as
secretive as an alchemist at that task,
locking himself into his room before he
takes q LOOl III lluuNls LII 0tCdu IoiAiuE boA
he has few warm friends, notably MIR.
HOLSTER, the merchant, who, by means of
kindly Diplomacy, has -befriended him in
many ways. AS proud as a prince is the
old fellow, and the quickest way to excite
his Indignation and wrath is to offer him
pecuniary aid. Even from the artist who
cultivated the hermit's friendship and drew
the crayon likeness of him he never would
accept any other gifts than cigars and pipe
fuls of tobacco.
In several instances the national govern
ment has endeavored to purchase the gun
smiths great secret; twice or thrice it sent
official messages thither to negotiate with
him. The latest one, a starched and debo-
nair young man from Washington, spoke
his message to the inventor behind locked
doors in Crosby's bare aud smoke-begrimed
kitchen, and the latter listened to the tale
silently, his wide blue eyes winking fiercely.
The envoy was authorized by his superiors
to offer 5000, 900 or $500, 000 for the gun bor-
ing process; but the old chap shook his
head at the end of the story. Then he drew
himself up proudly and resolutely and
spoke:
"Young man, don't want your money.
What do want of money! Money is of no
use to me. OF what use is money to me9
Pish! Go back to Washington
The youthful ambassador straightw ay
went.
The gun-boring process is likely to perish
with the brain that conceived it. but not
vary soon The old inventor is still as