Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1911-11-09

silence as 10 eertz1n eBisooes in ms
past career, and q threat OF instant
publicity. including a possible arrest
1 refused IN the presence OF my
private secretary, Philip Chaloner. of
my friend and servant. William Somes.
and OF the chief OF police, Cornell
himself, I an debating this state
ment.
twenty-five years ago I came &c
New York. Since that time nv ca
reer has been thoroughly exploited.
The detective force Of the civ. SUP
plemented by whatever talent could
De procured or suborned, has had me
under investigation. To not one act
nave they been able TO poi.t Of which
l am ashamed, or upon which they
could fix an attack.
When I came to New York I was
nineteen years Of age. I was born in
Vermont. received a common school
education, graduating from the high
school when 1 was sixteen. Ny father
dled before / was born. my mother at
my birth. Some small property &C.
crulng TO me was turned over to me
Dy my guardian on my graduation
from the high school. l spent two
years az sea as cabin boy, and then
drlfted west, finally bringing up al
XIII Devil Camp in Wyoming.
mere [ came under the influence
OF a woman older than /, who thought
II not unbecoming to her to beguile
and entrap the young eastern tender
1901 who was just entering upon his
nineteenth year. I was Young mex
perlenced, impressionable; I fell COM
p!etely under her influence. There is
something to be said for her. Door
woman She was married to a drunk
en- brute of husband. a miner. a
gambler, who was not only unfaithfuI
to her, but who abused her fright
Iully. think nay sympathies more
than my affections were engaged. I
had a chivalric desire to help her,
boys reverence for womankind
abused and suffering, a quixotic spirit
OF knight errantry, of which even now
[ am not ashamed
4 had still some little money left.
and resolved to take her away from
her intolerable life. 1 do not wish to
shelter myself behind a woman: but
| have always told the people of New
York the exact truth, and | am do
ing 1t now. We had planned to leave
the camp on certain night and ride
south to the Union Pacific. That
night was the night of the great biz
yard Of 1882, which is still remem-
bered in the west. 1t was very late
when l reached her cabin with the
horses. The woman was ready for
me, waiting eagerly in fact. Her hus-
band had recently won small sum of
money by gambling. That money she
took with her.
We had turned to the door to go
out, although it was almost certain
death to be abroad in such a storm,
when her husband entered the room.
How he knew, or whether he knew
what we were going to do, I cannot
say. At any rate, he was there. He
covered me with gun; I was entire
- LII B4Oos- lie dCC4dIS GU Ills lulSu-
ton of shooting me, and delayed only
that he might enjoy what he con-
ceived my fear of death, possibly my
pleading for life.
Il worked in desperate hurry. and
at last got my hand on the butt Of
my pistol. [ saw from the look of his
eye that 1 would have little time to
I ~117f1o1 hD+ T j
I was doomed man. At that in
slant there was a flash and a report
in the room. Immediately after the
man pulled the trigger of his own
pistol, but the bullet went wild. He
sank down on mis- knees, and fell back
dying. l dropped my own weapon and
bent over him. There was a hole in
his breast through which the blood
was oozing'
who shot him?" growled the chief.
who had been listening with the great
est absorption to the narrative.
THE woman shot him." answered
Gormly. But you need not put that
in, Chaloner. Let it go as I have
dictated it." He resumed to his ste.
nographer:
There was nothing that [ could do
for the man. 1t was more than ever
necessary that we get away In pity
for the woman, I tore blank leaf
from a book and wrote upon it that l
had shot this man. We left that note
on the body and plunged into the
storm. Words cannot convey the
frightful nature of the tempest We
became separated in the storm
through no fault of mine
(TO BE CONTINUED)