Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1906-10-05
CHAPTER l.


1t is with no intention of delighting the
curious that l put my pen to paper.
Only at the urgent desire Of many mem
bers Of my own profession have ! under
taken a task necessarily disagreeable, and
do now recall the details of a case which
/ take to be without parallel In the rec
ords Of criminology. In the mental state
Of the afflicted being there was, indeed,
little that was abnormal. Manias that are
similar to his fill our asylums. But that
iaborious studies in the byways of sci
ence, rather than In her more frequented
paths, had placed at the will of his dis
ordered brain weapons of deadly poten-
cy, transformed a personal misfortune
into a great and urgent public danger.
spent four years at Cambride, where,
though my degree was a high one,
found too many distractions to make
such progress as ! could have wished In
my profession. Yet my interest in med
icine grew steadily, and on leaving the
university | determined, having both the
means and the time at my disposal, to
seek out spot where | could throw my
self into my work without the Interrupt
tons Of old friends and old associations
The reputation of Heidelberg attracted
me, and hither / migrated.
Sufficient for myself. The man who
was to be associated with me in my
strange quest / win describe with equal
brevity. My cousin, Sir Henry Graden,
KIT, Md, FRS, F.R.S.G., was man
of remarkable personality-a surgeon OF
brilliant gifts that had made for him
European reputation, yet an eccentric
or 30 the world held him-who lacked
the steady application necessary for COM
plete success He would throw himself
into the solution of a problem, or the
prosecution Of a new experiment, with
the utmost zeal; yet on achieving the
desired result he would shake of the at
mosphere of the HOSPITAL and laboratory
and start on some wild-goose chase that
might include the ascent of an unclimb-
able peak, the capture Of a rare species
Of wild animal, or the study of little
known tribe of savages. In person he
was Of great stature, and heavily, al
most clumsily, built, with rugged,
weather-beaten face, keen yet kindly
grey eyes, and brown hair, somewhat
grlzzled about the temples. In age he
was well past the forties. In dress and
department he might pardonably have
been mistaken for n prosperous Yorkshire
grazier. Indeed, he was wont to COM
plain that he acted as a magnet to all
the tricksters of London; though, from
the shrewd smile with which he accom-
panied his protests, it was easy to see
that he thoroughly enjoyed the diversion
Of turning the tables on his diseredit-
able opponents
It was towards the end of my second
year at Heidelberg. An autumn sun had
sunk to rest In a golden haze over the
wooded hills, and the night, lum-
inous under the harvest moon, lay upon
the old town. / was sitting at my table,
on which a shaded lamp threw its vel
low circle, arranging the notes of the
lectures l had that day attended, when
there came a knock at the door behind
me- / cried a sulky invitation, for /
feared the appearance Of one of my pre-
posterous student friends. with his jargOn
Of the duel and the promenade. But the
next moment an enormous hand had
dragged me into the realization of my
duties as a host by standing me on my
feet amid the clatter of a falling chair.
"Why, Cousin Gradient l cried, for
indeed It was he who had thus treated
me. "What cyclone has blown you
hereF
.Egad! believe it's the truth I've
heard" said he, throwing himself on to
a sofa that cracked again under his
waight-he was a famed breaker of
furniture was cousin Harry Graden.
''They told me that you'd shut yourself
up for nigh two years-work, work, work
las If there was no young blood in your
veins. and no green world lying around
you, with not a yard of 1t that isn't
worth all the most learned dissertations
ever written"
knew his favorite doctrine. 1t would
have been as foolish to argue with him
as to attempt to uphold the necessity
for the Union with an Irish Home Ruler,
"But what are you doing hereT
repeated.
TITS to Berlin that I'm bound, to read
a paper before a society that is good
enough to be interested In some notes
took recently on the Kaflr witch-doctors.
I'd a few days In hand, so l thought
would take peep at my dear Heidelberg
and, incidentally, at my worthy cousin,
Robert Harland."
He rose and stalked about the room
clucking to himself like contented hen
"Same old jugs and china pipes same
wainscot, a shade darker maybe; same
old oak beams, a thought more smoky
same schlagers above the mantelpiece.' y
He took down one of the students
dueling- swords, and slipped his hand
into the heavy hilt. Raising his long arm
into the orthodox attitude, he swept the
keen, thin blade in Kissing circles.
'Do you ever tramp on the sawdust
and drum with the schlager, and bleed in
the tank, Cousin RobertT
mot 1. Though have heard of your
triumphs in the past, you man of bloodp
"And who has been gossipingP
Professor Won Stockmar. He asked
me to supper the second day arrived
for the sole purpose, l believe, of i'm
pressing me with the fame of a certain
dueling desperate Of a student, one
Henry Graden, who hourished in Heidel
berg twenty years ago"
what, Won Stockmar? Little Her
mann7 What good fellow he wasl Die
you ever hear him sing a song about
but, of course, that's not possible. 81
little Hermann's a professor, is he? Are
you under himT'
mo; I'm with Professor Marnae"
Graden walked across to the fireplace
and slowly filed a huge china Dipe that