The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1894-05-22

AS 1 was looking at him, he raised
his head. His eyes fell upon me. l
was close to the wagon with overcoat
unbuttoned but arms folded over it.
While I was gazing l heard behind me
a deep, muttered curse, and the sound
of a blow. Oaths broke forth at once
and a shouting and yelling of ''mur-
der9' ''murderI" The wagon was
halted. The sheriff jumped down.
The twenty guards all looked back.
Like a fash of lightning Stounder
leaped from the wagon upon me, tear
ing open my overcoat and ~grasping
the jacket and cap disappeared in the
crowd. I arose from the ground feel
ing somewhat rUf1ed at the rude con
duct. Butte moments reflection showed
that this was a ruse to divert sus
picion from me.
The dfes and oaths had ceased very
suddenly; but now the sherif's voice
is heard:
"Where is the prisoner9"
Immediate seach through the crowd
was made. The people seemed as anx-
to catch the man as the officers were.
They were going to be deprived of their
expected sport.
AS 1 was walking about through the
crowd I anne upon the sheriff who
was asking questions of a bent up old
man who was hobbling with great
difficulty. The sheriff had asked him
if he had seen the prisoner pass along.
mo-" said the old man, in a thin,
piping voice, indicating great feeble
ness. 81 hain't seen nobody pass-I
don't know no pris'ner." And on he
went with head bent low and legs
trembling from extreme old age. I
glanced at the old man carefully. He
wore a large old jacket and fur capl
The trick had succeeded-and the
magician was now on the stage, per,
forming! I passed him a few feet and
turned to have a better view. He
noticed my stopping, and, raising his
head slightly, motioned with n arm
for me to go on. l saw the point and
walked on. A few minutes afterwards,
on turning again, I could not see him.
I looked for him but saw him no
more.
The next day I was busy in my regu-
lar line of work, and the day following
I went to Rocky Mount. There I took
the cars for Baltimore. Going,into the
smoking car, I saw to my astonish
ment, the little old man in the fur cap
and jacket all bent up on his seat,
smoking a short pipe. Itook a seat on
the opposite side in front Of him and
looked at him. He was muttering to
himself, as old people will, and I
caught these words:
MY ole ooman SEE I've got no sense
seq l alters tell everything I know;
but Sally don't know bout me. 1 kin
keep my mouth shet and I want my
friends to keep thern shet too" 1 took
the hint and did not notice him any
more.
We went on to Baltimore together.
AS 1 passed him when 1 was getting off
the train there, l threw my card into
his lap, He placed his hand over it i'm
mediately but did not look up.
The next day about nine o'clock in
the morning while I was at the store, a
card was handed me with the address
Jacob Roorbach, Berlin" I went
into the office to see ny visitor. A
handsomely dressed man with black
moustache and side whiskers bowed as
1 entered. "Mr. Archel,' I suppose"
he said. 1 bowed. "Roorbach, at
present." he added, touching himself
on the breast. His accent was German
evidently a native.
He stood looking fixedly at me-so
long, in fact, that I was forced to ask:
"Can 1 do anything for you, Mr..
Roorbach9"
Great heavens! man, " he exclaimed,
could you do any more than you have
done? Remember Stounder, the m4gi-
cian." The tones of his voice, when
speaking these words, recalled the
escaped prisoner. I grasped his hands
and cordially congratulated him.
The next day he sailed for Europe.
Before he went, he left his European
address with me.
About a month afterwards, I read a
long account in the Baltimore San of
the capture of the real murderer of
Broome. He was tried, condemned
and executed. I wrote "Roorbach" the
next day after seeing the account in
the Sun and sent him the paper. In
Az :.n 7 not q nrnAof1l onrmor He