The midland journal., 1898-12-23
The Pygmy Bandit.
BY Paul Pastnor.
IT SEE you are growing somewhat

curious about my stuffed eagle?"
remarked Sandhurst, the detective,
with a smile, as he caught my eye wan
deriug for the fifth time to the big
bird rerched with outspread wings on
the top of his bookcase. Have an
ether cigar, and ! will tell you how
l came by him. The tale is odd and
will interest you, think.
ut happened in 1s45. The great and
populous state of Missouri was then
little more than a thinly-settled will
Gerness. Travelling was done mainly
by stage and saddle. There were few
main roads, leading for long distances
through woods and prairie; but for
the most part the country was wild
and uninha bited.
Father at that time lived about 40
miles from the present site of ST. Louis
in little frontier community called
St. Regis. believe the name has been
changed since. | haven't been back
there for half century. Father was
storekeeper and postmaster. l was
his only child, and at the time 1 am
telling you about was kid of IA.
"One day the mail carrier rode up
20 the store in a state of great excite
ment. He tumbled off his horse and
came into the store, pale and hardly
able to speak
"'Wtat's the matter, Corrigan?
asked my father.
"'Matter, sor? The divil himself's
to pay! An imp of Sathan dropped
ha al 81,
wild pistol to each wan av me ears
towld me t. drop the mail bag in the
road an ride for me loife, widout
vance ookin' behind
"'And you obeyed?'
"'Av coorse Oh did. Whin the evil
wan himself has the drop on a man
Joke thot do yez think it would be
healthy for him to stop an palaver?
No, sor! Oi cut loose the mail. an the
divil dropped off me horses flank. an,
hiven be praised! Ohm alive to tell yez
the tale.'
Ibid you not get glimpse of the
man?'
1.-The man? No, sor! Oi'm tellin'
yez it wasn't man at all! 1t was
divil, or Oi'll ate me head. How could
man light uponme horses back from
behind widout a sound av warning?
The first ting Oh knew the imp had his
shootin' irons in me ears; an whin
he sph oke, begorra, the schmell av his
voice was like sulphur. U-r-r-r! Wor-
ra worral Tim Corrigan's no coward,
PLACE God, whin it comes to d'alin' wild
man or baste. But the divil himself's
another thing
"The news spread like wildfire
through the little community that
burly Tim Corrigan had been robbed
of the mail. Twelve or fifteen men and
boys soon gathered at the store and
party was made up, headed by my ia
ther. to ride back to the scene of the
robbery and see if any trace of Tins
'divil' could be discovered. Tim him
self al first refused to go. He was en-
tirely demoralized by superstitious
fear. But upon promise of body
guard and safe place at the rear he
finally consented to be one of the
party.
THE mail bag was found at the ex-
act spot indicated by Corrigan, ripped
open and rifled of all its valuable con-
tents. consisting of several packages
of value and Enclosures of money. But
not the slightest tract of the thief
could be discovered. There were no
prints of horses hoof save those of
the animal ridden by Corrigan him
self. Neither could mans footprints
he found nor a trail in the bushes be-
side the road. An old Indian fighter
in the party searched long and care
fully, but even his trained eye failed
TO discover sign. The affair was
mystery. and Tins theory of the agen-
cy of the evil one began. covertly. to
gain some ground.
This strange highway robbery,
however, was only the first of many
CT similar character which from that
time cn amazed and terrified the pio-
neers throughout that section. The
paymaster of a numbering gang was
mysteriously pounced upon and re-
lieved of $500 in small bills. A farmer
returning from the gristmill lost the
little roll Of money that represented
nearly all his seasons earnings. A sur
veyor separated from the rest of his
party. felt suddenly a death-like grip
abou' his neck that frightened relent-
lessly until he lost consciousness.
When he recovered he found his in'