Year: 1879

Mrs. Isadore Middleton, very beau tiful woman, and one of the acknowl- edged leaders of fashion in Mobile, can certainly boast of the possession of as much nerve and true moral courage as are often vouchsafed to any of her sex. On a recent evening she was in her boudoir putting away some articles of jewelry, when she noticed that the pecu- liar position of library lamp that was burning upon chair in the back part of the room had thrown upon the floor, almost directly at her feet, the shadow of @ man who was crouching under broad-topped ornamental table in the centre of the room. She also 1ked that the open hand of the shadow had but two fingers, and remembered that several desperate burglaries had recent ly been committed in the neighborheod, suppositiously by negro desperado who was notorious as having lost two fingers of his right hand. MT. Middle ton was absent from the city, and, besides herself in the house there wes but single maid-servant. Instead of fainting with fear, or shrieking for help, the brave lady seated herself at the very table under which the miscreant was concealed, and rang for the servant "Hand me writing materials, Bridget" said she, with perfect calmness "I want you to take note this instant to MT. Forfair, the ieweler, and have him send back with you my diamond neck lace and ear-drops, which left there for repairs several days ago. Bring them with you, no matter if fully repaired or not. They are by twentyfold the most valuable articles of jewelry that I pos sess, and do not wish to pass another night without having them in my bureau drawer" The note was at once written and dispatched, but instead of being in the tenor that she had signified Con pur- pose for the concealed robber to over- hear, for she had no jewelry under repair), it was nasty note to an inti- mate friend, in which she succinctly stated her terrible position, and urged him to hasten to her relief, with the requisite police assistance, immediately on receipt of the missive. The agonies which that refined and delicate woman underwent when left alone in the house, with the consciousness of the presence of that desperate robber, perhaps assas- sin as well, crouched under the very table upon which she leaned, and per haps touched by her skirts, can only be left to the readers imagination but her iron nerve sustained her through the ordeal. She yawned, hummed an ope- ratio air, turned over the leaves of & novel, and in other ways lulled the lurker into a sense of perfect security and expectancy, and waited, waited with wildly beating heart and her eyes fas- tened upon the hands of her little ormulu clock, with greedy, feverish gaze. At last, however, came the prayed-for relief. There was ring at the door-bell and she strolled carelessly into the hall and down stairs to open it. The ruse had been success. She not only admitted Bridget, but also MT. Forfair and three stalwart policemen. The latter passed stealthily up stairs and into the boudoir, where they suddenly bounced upon the concealed burglar so unexpect- edly as to secure him with hardly struggle. The prisoner proved to be a negro criminal named Chapman, but mostly known as "Two-Fingered Jeff," who was in great request about that time for several robberies com- mitted in the neighborhood short time before, and he is now serving 8 twenty years' sentence in the Alabama State prison.