New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1915-12-12
WeStcheSter GoblinS
In Wild Night Chase
Flight from, Weird Footsteps
Lands Youth in Strange
House, Then Jail.

Caterina Van Tassel's slim ankles and
their fair owner are gone from this
dcsolated world these many years.
Ichabod Crane, with his long legs and
his painful Imagination, have followed
her into the dim beyond. The West
chester hills are lit by electric flares
and headlight glares, and the practical
folk who inhabit the vicinity Of Tarry-
town nowadays wouldn't recognize the
hoof beats of the Headless Horseman's
steed If they heard them.
Brom Bones's place in the Westches-
ter scheme Of things may be occupied
by languid youth with a fondness for
the one-step-but, just the same, the
same nsmeless Things still roam the
hills seeking moderns with the eyes
of Ichabod. Early yesterday morning
they found one.
The up-to-date Ichabod was Harvey
Warner, nineteen, attenuated and gift
ed with imagination. Like his school
master prototype, Ichabod Warner had
been spending an evening in good COM
pany. He had imbibed freely Of liquors
made for men of ripper age and had
heard stories of night terrors that sent
the shivers jigging along his plant
backbone.
Silent a. m. lay over the country
side when lchabod II bade his com
panions a brave farewell and sailed
from the safety of the White Plains
lights, bound for his home in Granite
Plains. The way lay along a road
which was dark and lonely. Queer
shapes huttered against the blackness
Of the sky. Noises full Of menace
welled from nowhere. Steslthy foot
steps. ever drawing closer, pattered
behind the solitary wayfarer.
Just to keep warm Ichabod broke
into a run.
Faster pattered the footsteps. It had
occurred TO the new Ichabod, inciden-
tally, that by running to quicken his
circulation he might also shake them
off. But still they gained.
Ichabod Warner felt the cold more
thar ever. A particularly icy drafs,
sweeping along close to the ground,
was playing over his feet. He decided
it would be neighborly to drop IN at
the next house and exchange the time
of night.
1t was Jimmy Wood, caretaker in the
country hOma of George H. Proctor,
who next began TO hear things. Wood
was awakened by crash of glass. A
cold wind blew through the house.
Smash went some more glass. Eleph
antine footsteps thundered through the
bare corridors Of the lower floor. The
piano in the drawing room broke forth
suddenly in eerie music, too loud to be
made by human hand. Then a scrap
ing, scratching, a thud-and silence.
With a revolver In one hand, his
jack-knife open in the other and his
heart in his mouth, Jimmy Wood crept
down the stairs presently. Anything
was better than waiting above for 1t to
move again.
In the first floor hall ruin greeted
Jimmy's eye. However supernatural
the agency Of destruction, real, nat
ural. everyday glass pad been broken
the glass of the carved front door and
the glass Of the big bevel mirror that
stood opposite it.
The embattled caretaker tiptoed into
the drawing room. The ivory had been
ripped from several keys on the piano.
Jimmy looked behind 1t, and there,
crouching in readiness 10 fight for hrs
life, was Ichabod Crane Warner, cor
nered.
But there was such a comfortable,
human look about Jimmy that lchabod
gratefully surrendered. He was more
than willing 10 have his csptor lead
him TO the county jail in White Plains,
which offered not only lights, but com
pany.
Jimmy. the caretaker, took some
thing else 70 Jail besides lchabod-
something which IchabOd had been pre-
pared TO use as n weapon OF defence
when Jimmy peeDed over the top OF the
abused piano, and something "hlCh WIN
be states Exhibit A when lchabod is
tried for breaking and entering.
IL threw it through the front door
first of all" said Ichabod, referring TO
this object. al remember picking 1t up
when / got inside, and then | caught
sight of somebody coming at me and
threw il again That was how the
mirror was busted. When | got into
the big room climbed over the piano
| sort Of thought | was walking up
stairs until ! fell off the other side.
After that my head got clearer"
Ichabod's instrument OF destruction
was nothing other than the ancient
Westchester vegetable Of fate, like that
which proved the uDdoing Of the orig
jnal Ichabod a pumpkin! And, Illus
trating that the hills still hold their
mysteries, with Katrina, Brom, the
horseman, and even Washington Try
ing gone hence, Ichabod ii doesn't
know yet how he became possessed
of u.
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