The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1891-08-12


most and that life for the past five yesrl
has more of mania than ever before, bui
with method-I am and have been in
search of money, and money only. Not
30 widely different, you will say, from al
the world, except that my search was
without the pale Of law, and nov the end
has come l am rich, and l have enough
and desire to return to civilization. You
can permit it-you can prevent it am
an outlaw. Very well. l will cease out
lawry l will turn over my stills to the
government, will swear big oath, and
will keep it, too, for my own interests de-
mand ito become worthy citizen, and
if you will accept the prodigSl son, and
kill for me the fatted calf Of pardon, all
will be well came here to ask you to
intercede for me will you not do so for
me?"
Nutting hesitated a moment this man
was q veritable Robin Hood Could he
trust him
The other spoke again.
Such assistance from an official is just
what l need, and l can pay for it. If you
will get free pardon for me l will give
you five thousand"
g / cannot do it."
Aliens face paled and his hand crept
toward his hip then restraining himself
with scoffing laugh, he said
Be it so. Then we are enemies-I to
you and to the law you TO me. Remem-
Der my fifteen minutes, and beware when
We next meet
He threw his cloak about him, buckled
his pistol to his waist, and disappeared,
but as he left the room a little piece Of
metal fell from his person and rolled un-
noticed to the floor. A moment more,
and the ring of his horses hoofs sounded
through the mountains.
The morning following, as Nutting en-
tered his office, his aged servant bowed
low before him, extended his brown and
wrinkled hand, and said, in an swe-
stricken voice
"Foun' dis on de floor, massa, and l
s'pose him your'n; bad ting, massa, bad,
eff We low old nigger to say"
The marshal leaned forward, surprised.
Lying in the outstretched palm of the
black hand was silver pistol bullet.
"Why, uncle" he said, taking it, this
is not mine.
Not your'n, massa. Tank de Lord.
Use pleased, is, massa. Foun' it yer
dough. Dat ar's sweyside bullet, mas
sa, he continued, lowering his voice to
a whisper, while his eyes rolled like ships
in the midst os white and seething bill
lows, know 'em. Ny old massa had
one cast and carried it many years, Dey
never kill no one but the fellows dey's
made for. Massa John, dough he didn't
get chance to use his'n, and the old
man chuckled.
" A suicide bullet, said Nutting, with
a smile, as he examined the silver sphere.
That's new idea to me. Why make
a special bullet? l should think that one
of these is deadly enough, and he poin-
ted TO some of the heavy cartridges be-
longing to his own pistols which lay on
the table near.
"They might miss, masss- You know
the devil cares for his own, an dis bullet
is made by his help, at night in the grabe
yard an can't miss. / know them, massa
I've seen EN- afore. Then drawing
near him he whispered, Is made EN-,
"And did they do their work ? said
Nutting, laughing lightly.
"They did, massa.
The officer now opened door in his
desk and took from it an old-fAshioned
dueling pistol, which he had picked up
somewhere and fitted the bulle: into its
rusty muzzle.
It's Just the thing, uncle. Bring me
nv flask and will load it with the sui
eide bullet. It's best to have it handy by
if get the blues. He laughed again.
The servant obeyed.
mo use to fix 'em massa. Twon only
kill one who it's made for, shush, an
you couldn't shoot yourself wild it, no
how. +"
"Well, uncle, I'll load the smoothbore
ANYWAY. said the marshal, suiting the
action to the word, and this afternoon
we'll try it at a mark. i'll miss a halt
dollar at dozen PAGES III give up that
your right. If l hit, your suicide bulleI
is no better or worse than leaden one.'
All right, massa, bat you won't hit
replied the old darkey.
Just as Nutting completed the charg
ing of the weapon a stranger called, ant
it was thrust hurriedly into pigeon-hol'
in the desk. His visitors business de-
tanned him from the Office til night anc
the plan of the morning was forgotten
The dueling pistol with its silver missile
lay tinnoticed for months in the desk.
The days and weeks passed, summer
came and went and fall ripened the year
A dozen times had the marshal organic
ed expeditions and secured the country
seeking the notorious Allen, but eact
time had returned unsuccessful. On'
final effort, however. was to be made
Certain information, which he knew to
be reliable, and at last he felt sure, pu
the outlaw in his hand and he looked u
his horses shoes and loaded his pistol
with unusual care.
At his orders mounted guards-meE
on whom he could depend-patrolleC
all the roads. Upon the morrow al
dawn, with a posse Of seven fearless
mountaineers he was to storm the yer,
stronghold of the moonshiners, and to
morrow he would find vacancy eithel
in the government or in the ranks Of th'
illicit distillers. The expedition haC
thus far, Eutting believed, been secret
Because of this he looked forward will
strong hopes of success.
The officer sat at his desk writing. HI
had but few pages to complete, a lettel
or two to prepare for the mail, and som'
memoranda to destroy. BE might neve
sit at that desk again.
As his eyes wandered over the mass o
papers, documents and duplicate report
filed neatly away before him, ne sudden
ly noticed the butt end of his old duel
inc pistol half hidden in one of the com