The Watertown weekly leader. [volume] (Watertown, Jefferson County, Wis.) 1912-1917, 1917-05-09
Was It an
Anniversary Ghost?
By WILLARD BRAKEMAN

box. when he was accosted from the
sidewalk by q man whose apparel
made coachy blink his eyes to assure
himself that he saw Alright. To begin
at the top of his head, he wore
beaver hat with q large bell crown aud
a rim curled at the sides. His coat
was very high in the collar his neck
tie was voluminous lace. the buttons
on his clothes were brass, his breeches
were what we call knickerbockers.
Coachy drove to the sidewalk, and
the gentleman, without asking permits
sion, opened the door and stepped in
side
ITO Greenwich" ne called as he
closed the door behind him.
up Greenwich street, sir?"
"Yes.''
That part of New York viii h was
originally Greenwich Village is several
miles from where the stranger entered
the coach, and the cabman would rath-
er have declined to make fare so
late in the evening. But there was
something about the stranger that was
Greenwich and cabby asked for fur
Their instructions the man inside only
said, Drive on" Cabby seemed awed
by the tone in which the words were
spoken and dared not ask another ques-
ton, so he drove on in the direction
he was going, northward, till he reach
ed the river bank. The man inside
Stnnnn6 hn Wit
on coachy to stop, and when he touch
ed the ground there seemed not to be
the slightest shock AS he walked
away he fixed his eyes on the cabman
with a look that made him forget all
about the omission TO pay the fare.
Indeed, cold chill ran down the
mans back. Going to the margin of
the river, his figure seemed to float
along. growing more and more indis-
tinct till it was lost, as cabby thought.
In the water. But this could not be.
for there came from where he had dis
appeared a sound Of oars. The sound
passed up the river gradually dying
away in the distance.
Now, although the stranger had Civ
his return, the latter felt no power to
do otherwise. He did not think that
by going away he would lose the mon
ey he had already earned; he remained
fixed where he was by the look his
fare had given him when he walked
away with that unearthly tread
1t was the season when the days are
10 81
Coachy sat for perhaps an hour, per-
haps two-he could never recall how
long it was-waiting there on the river
bank, with no human being near. for
he says that he was not conscious OF
the surrounding traffic of the present
day. He saw about him only the
green bank of the river, behind him
the village, in which all were wrapped
In slumber. But he is not sure that
he was awake not sure but that he
was dreaming. At any rate, he was
obiivious to the strangers return, for
the first he knew of it he heard voice
ordering him to drive home Rousing
himself and looking down from the
box, he saw his fares face thrust
him. The cabman will never forget
that face. 1t was singularly hand
some, though so pale as to be rather
OF the dead than Of the living. The
expression was that Of one who had
committed some dreadful crime. one
who had killed some one But In 1t
there was no remorse. It was rather
triumph.
"Homew said the stranger.
The cabman did not know and did
not dare ask where home was He
knew that he had taken up his fare on
Wall street, and for that location he
headed.
In the twilight the city seemed
changed. All the landmarks of me-
tropOlis were missing.
Turning out of Broadway at Wall
street, he drove down till he reached
the point where Broad joins 1t. This
was where he had taken up his fare
Here, too, was not the office of the
great banking house which is there.
but a small brick dwelling The
stranger called on him to stop, and he
drove up to the curb
Coachy says that when this singular
being alighted he cast his eye at
dwelling on the opposite side of Wall
street a short distance down toward
the East river and looked for a mo-
ment at 1t with malignant triumph:
then, turning. without mentioning the
money he owed for his ride, he mount
ed the steps of dwelling before him
and seemed to pass through the door
without opening 1t.
Coachy was found that morning in n
stupor on his box and about to fall
He was removed to hospital, whence
he did not emerge for several weeks
When he did so he narrated the adven
ture of that memorable night to a
gentleman who happened to be a
scholar. All the information he re.
ceived was this:
The house the strange man entered
was once occupied by Aaron Burr.
Alexander Hamilton lived on the oppo-
site side of Wall street little way
farther down toward the East river.
The night Of the adventure was the
hundredth anniversary Of the duel
in which Hamilton was killed.
Perhaps the vision came to the cab
mon he was antpripO aQvarn f11-