The Grenada sentinel. [volume] (Grenada, Miss.) 1868-1955, 1904-06-04
WILLIE TASCOTT"
DIES ONCE MORE
This Time He Passes Away in a
Klondike Cabin.
STORY BELIEVED TO BE TRUE
Philip Robertson, n Strictly Reliable
Man, ProspectOr and Miner, Re-
ceived the Dying Mans Confess
sion and Tells the Story.

NANN IA otOE
Chicago, June IA special to the
News from Victoria, B. c., says:
IF the voluntary declaration of a
dying man is to be believed, finis has
been written to the historic Smell trag-
edy of Is years ago, and Tascott. the
long-sought murderer. self-identifed,
has paid the penalty of his crime with
penitence, and now fills an unmarked
grave in the heart of the Alaskan will
derness, whittier he had fed for the
effacement of his individuality.
Philip Robertson, a strictly reliable
man, p~rospector and miner, received
the dying mans confession, and tells
tie story simply and dramatically.
Robertson left the Klondike capital, he
says, late last fall in a small boat
bound for the new placer grounds at
Fairbanks. He reached a point near
Dahl river, in a particularly desolate
and f~orbidding region, when the for
lorn wailing Of a dog surprised his
80 IN LOuAAo TX 0OS, q LdlI-SldIN Su
shepherd, in evident distress. Follow
ing this animal, Robertson was brought
to a seemingly deserted cabin some 400
yards above the river, concealed in a
clump of spruce.
Il ventured to the door of the shack
and knocked" says Robertson, and
there was a feeble come in
GAN Io,l,4oc :--:Iz 49,
was no sign of a fire. | caught sight
of a bit of candle on the table, which
| lighted, and then advanced to where
a nan lay.
with a feeble effort he turned and
stared at me for a full minute, then
he said: Are you an oficer?'
THE question amazed me a bit.
mo 1 said. L am a miner, and IL
there is anything l can do for you I
want to do IT.
Il soon had a fire going, and again
approached the bed. The mans hair
was white as snow, his face had a
liquid color in it that looked like death,
and he had the most terrified and hope
less expression | have ever seen on a
human being.
Partner he said, finally rolling
over on his side, and little more than
whispering, I'm leaving a world that
did not appreciate. I'm going to -,
l belong
He lapsed into silence, and what I
was a sleep came over him.
Two hours passed, and he suddenly
Weakened with a shrek and then sank
back in bed.
81 Am Fascott."
"1n a few minutes he gave another
wild scream and Strengthened I'D in
bed. Then in a voice you would think
'nly came from a good, strong man,
said: See here, boys, my name is
I'm Tascott. Do you under
I'm Tascott that they've been
hunting like a wolf for years. can't
'un any more. I'm getting paid for
l did. | know I'm dying, and I
Know where I'll go. Tell the boys
When they come back that | am Tas-
oft, and you can tell the world, too,
or the world has hunted me a long
About three in the morning | heard
noise like a man expelling all the
ir from his lungs. l rushed over to
he bed and felt the mans pulse and
cart. He was dead.
THE next day his partners got back,
nd told them what happened. They
ere the strangest fellows I've ever
in the north. They didn't say
no they were. They didn't even
hank me for staying with their dead.
hey didn't even ask men to join them
their meal, but they buried the man,
I'D, rolling up their things in a
.anket packet, they started across
,untry in the direction of Koyukuk.
Before going, one of them came to
e abruptly. See here he said, you've
and heard what you've heard. You
mt make anything by talking about
He's dead, and that's all there is
it,
Before l could ask him anything -
had struck the trail, and that was
e last saw of him. l have never %
Id about this until now, but that dead
asked me to make his story pub
), and so l do so. 1 solemnly believe
at he was tortured to death by
of his own life, and the belief
at he was always the object of pur-
1t, and | as surely believe that he
d the truth in saying he was Tas-
r Tt'S nv nninion that hic mort