Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1909-10-19
The Story Te,ler.
The BRIGAND FROM NATION.
Leap Of a Spanish Terror Out Of
the Frying Pan.

Leap Of a Spanish Terror Out Of
the Frying Pan.
Yes, indeed" said the insurance
agent from Duluth, 1T was a mighty
close shave. 1 don't know what they
wanted with me, but they were GER
tainly after me, and If that little horse
/ was riding hadn't been a four time
winner, they'd "a got me too. He just
stuck his head out and sailed like an
aeroplane. Only touched the ground
once in a while to see If 1t was still
there"
Pardon me-" said the red-headed
man who had just entered the smok-
ing compartment, I'D like to get In
on this story. Who was 1t after you?''
"a bunch O. brigands in Greece and
white petticoats," answered the insur-
ance agent. II was one Of a tourist
party and we'd gone up to a place
called Marathon, where they had a
great scrap and a beautiful foot race
some years back.
II got separated from the crowd, and
the brigands, I guess, were hanging
around looking for stragglers. Any
way, they took after me. 1 didn't like
their looks, and so I skedaddled.
That's all there is to the story.
They didn't get me. I've no doubt
there's a good many people that's sor-
ry they didn't, but I'm not one Of
them"
What do you suppose they'd have
done to you?" asked the red headed
man.
"Oh, 1 don't know; but it wouldn't
have been nice. They told me in Ath-
ems that they have way Of cutting
off a mans fingers and toes one at a
time and sending them to his friends
as little keepsakes. I'm sure wouldn't
have enjoyed their company"
Maybe they're not as bad as they're
painted" suggested the passenger from
Peoria. "Give dog a bad name, you
know. 1 got pretty we'll acquainted
with a brigand once myself, and must
say that he was very pleasant gen.
tleman, taking everything into consid-
Grafton"
Did he wear petticoats too?" ask
ed the insurance agent.
mo, this wasn't in Greece. 1t was
in Spain. A good many years ago
when was in Cuba got pretty chum-
my with Spaniard named Flores. He
lived in Madrid, but he had a coun-
try estate up close to the Bay Of Bis
say and in sight Of the Cantabrian
Mountains.
He told me that If I ever went to
Europe l must look him up, and when
a couple Of years later business took
me to Paris acted on his invitation.
It was in August and so found MIN
at his summer estate, a tract Of sew
eral thousand acres stretching almost
to the foothills Of the mountains and
with a great big barny house on its
northern edge nearest the sea-
There was quite crowd Of people
there, most Of them Spaniards, but
some from the other countries, two Of
them being Americans like myself.
One of these Americans was fine
looking woman Of about 40 who was
supposed to be widow. Her name
was Andrews and she had about as
sharp a tongue as ever ran loose in
a woman's head.
II hadn't been there more than q
couple of days before I began to hear
about Senior Muerto, the terrible BAN
dit chief, who had his lair somewhere
in the Cantabrian mountains, and all
the guests were warned to keep away
from the foothills. No one, 1t seemed,
had ever seen this fellow except the
members Of his band and his victims,
and there were all kinds Of extrava-
CANT yarns afioat about his cruelties.
"Senor Flores's guests were left pret.
ty much to their own resources as to
but the favorite diver
sion of all Of us was golf. The links
was as fine as any I have ever seen
and I never had greater pleasure from
the game than I did there.
"One morning early went out with
a few Of my favorite sticks strapped
to my back, intending to practice for
a while at long drives, going wherever
the ball led me. l didn't want to be
bothered with caddie, so I went
alone. Well, that ball led me a long
chase, and l was so interested that
paid no attention to the direction I
was going or to the distance. l was
leaning over dickerins with the ball In
for a stroke when without
a moments warning cloak fell over
my head and before 1 could utter a
sound or make move I was bound up
hand and foot, thrown over the back
Of a horse like a bag Of meal and on
my way to, heaven and my captors
only knew what fate.
II was nearly smothered In my
wrappings, but the brigands, as I sup
posed they were, paid no attention to
my struggles, and gradually fell into
half comatose state that took no note
of time or anything else. A dash Of
cold water in my face revived me and
I found myself in a cavern lighted by
many candles.
Some way back was rude fire.
place with blazing logs, for the air
within tba cavarn was chilly Sitting