Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1896-02-12

- e<8o JUN.
The stranger at the gate passed through
the arches and walked briskly into the
front inclosure. Going up the steps
be raped loudly. The echoes rumbled
through the deserted hall and came back
increased a thousandfold.
No one responded. and he pushed the
door open and went in. The halls were
deserted and the place was forlorn.
Weeks had passed since the footsteps OF
human being had trodden the thresh
old and now in the fast gathering
twilight the old homo was gloomy and
forbidding. The newcomer passed
through the halls and entered the Ii
brary, where Major McLain had been
found in the cold embrace of death. In
the doorway was the chair in which he
was sitting when found. A gentle breeze
that came through the open window
played with the lace curtains and famed
the tall grasses that stood in the vases
on the old fashioned mantel. The room
was strangely weird and the feelings Of
the uninvited guest were difficult to be
described.
papers and desk Of Major McLain. Ev-
erything that might throw some light
on the mysterious crime was examined,
but nothing was found that would give
the slightest clew to the identity of the
murderer. For hours the man continued
the search, but his mission appeared to
be fruitless. Under the dim rays of the
new moon he made a careful search of
the premises and surveyed the surround
ings, hoping that his quick eye would
fall upon something that would bring
the truth.
Weary from his continued search, the
detective fell asleep on the lounge in
the library
The next morning he awoke at 8
o'clock The morning sun was stream
ing through the open windows and the
room was flooded with light. The de-
tective turned over and gazed at the fur
niture and other objects in the room.
His thoughts were busy, and he was
thinking Of the scene that would trans
pire in Abondale i'll just three hours.
The scaffold, grim and stern, and the
trembling body of the colonel flashed
through his mind. It was the day of the |
execution and only few hours off.
While the detective thought, his eyes
followed little ball of fire that danced |
and darted back and forth on the wall. |
1t was tiny red ball, but its brilliancy
and heat were intense. He watched it |
as it played seemingly for his amuse-
ment. just under the spot covered by |
/. the little fiery ball, he noticed cha1red |
place on the WALL What caused thatf |
He revolved the question over and over
again in his mind.
Springing from his bed he rushed to |
the wall and held match under the !
quivering piece Of living fire that played |
about like a serpent's tongue. Quickly |
the match hared. The detective was |
nervous and his brain was on fire.
On the wall were two stag's horns, at |
equal distance. Evidently they had |
served as support fu gun. Going to
the door he called the old coachman.
The negro went into the room with
his teeth chattering and his eyes were
dilated with superstitious fear.
Where is the gun that hung on these
horns?'' asked the detective.
The coachman was gone fora moment |
and returned with an old army rifle. The
coachman said that he had taken it down
from the rack on the morning that his
master was killed, as the gun was very
highly priced, and placed it in his room
for safe keeping.
The gun was reloaded and placed on
the horns. The little ball of fire, which |
was but the concentrated rays of the sun
thrown through blister in the glass of
the window, danced about the powder
pan of the old flintlock.
The detective placed pillow in the
chair in which Major McLain had been
found murdered. Then he waited.
With flash Of fire that half way |
reached the pillow and report that
awakened the echoes of the old mansion,
the gun was discharged. In the center
of the pillow bullet was buried.
Circumstantial evidence had thwarted |
evidence Of it's own kind. Con-
4titutiOn