Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1894-11-15

JDey nave caught the murderer. AuauA
heaven, this mystery may yet be cleared
upi"
After an hours conversation with the
prisoner quilted the Jail.
That evening Detective Rawson re-
turned with the strange man he had
taken. But while on the way to May
burg the prisoner had attempted to es-
cape by Ieaping from the moving train
and had been badly injured. He was
brought to the Redfeld inn in dying
condition. He was q man Of about 80,
with short, stubby beard, and bore
perfect resem blance to the picture
drawn by Gerald Rainforth. At first he
was silent and would say nothing, but
at last, knowing he could live but
short time, he made Q confession.
His confession was taken before no.
tary and three witnesses and was as fol-
lows:
my name is Mark Leon. Most Of my
life has been passed in New Orleans.
am a stone enter and am poor man.
Ten years ago my wife died, leaving me
an only child-a daughter Is years old.
/ had managed to give her good edu-
cation in spite of the fact that had
nothing save what earned by working
ut my trade. At the age Of Is she went
to live with family Of the name OF
Bentley, where she had accepted stu
alton as governess. While there she
made the acquaintance Of Don Eugenio
Sanchez, q rather dissipated young
man, but wealthy. He succeeded in
winning her affections and induced her
to elope with him. A bogus marriage
ceremony was performed, and they left
for New York, where they lived for six
months under an assumed name.
He treated her cruelty. and finally
telling her of the duplicity he had prac-
ticed he left her and went to Cuba. My
daughter returned home broken hearted.
and in three weeks she died. then
swore to kill Don Eugenio should | ever
lay eyes upon him. sold all the pop
erty had and went to Havana in search
of the villain, but learned that he had
just been married to lady of the name
of Grace Dangerfield and sailed for
Europe to be gone for years. / returned
to New Orleans and from there came to
New York city, where was employed
by the Excelsior Building company at
stone cutting. About two months ago
was sent by the company to the Bedford
quarries, two miles from this place. On
the evening of the 10th of September
was coming to Mayburg on foot. had
stopped to rest in the shade Of tree
near the road when saw man pass by
carrying valise. recognized him as
Don Eugenio Sanchez, and followed
him, determined to be revenged upon
him. He did not see me, and about sum
set he came to Darkwood Hall and en-
tered the grounds. hid in the shrub
berry close to the road and waited for
him. I had no weapon but q large
pocketknife, but taking this in my
hand I waited for him to return. Pres
emily he came out at the gate, and
after following him short distance
stole upon him and struck him with the
knife. He sank down in the road. /
left him and hid myself in the bushes
for short time; then seeing no one near
I walked on to ayburg, avoiding the
road. AS was leaving the town and
just as I was passing the Redfield inn
heard voices behind me, and fearing
that 1t was some one coming to arrest
me I stepped into the shadows of the
house. The men entered the Inn, and
then rememb boring that still had the
bloody knife in my possession threw it
into the weeds close by and hurried
away.
II at first thought of quitting the
place, but seeing that such an action
might create suspicion returned to the
quarries. A few days later the company
for which worked sent for me to re-
turn to the city. went Immediately
and remained there till l was arrested.
I am not sorry that l committed the
deed. 1t was, in my opinion, only an
act of Justice.
Such was the confession Of Mark
Leon. The next morning at 8 o'clock
he died. So the great Mayburg murder
mystery was solved ut last.
Gerald and Grace have been married
several years as I write these pages, and
the joys that now glorjfy their lives are
more than compensation for the SUIT
fering they both endured in the dark
days of the past.
Ny story is done. 1t is strange
story, but VINO can penetrate the veil OF
mystery that surrounds our very exist
ence?
We are such stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little livcs
Are rounded with sleep.
CHE END