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TWO MITES,
by JOHNSON B. TV USER.
Mr. Antoine Dernicre, the French
detective, being duly * Indued m a
member of the club, aud having juat re
tmrm<Wr°* tlie WMi.B'bcre lx feu4
been eng "Jed |# #
private nature, now attended the regu
lar weekly meetings, and related the
following at the first meeting night af
ter his return: mr?r
Mot Hr<-iron, a man of about forty
five, kept a amall inn—hotel he called
it—on the road leading to Meta; not
on the regular road, bat on a sort of
by-road, and through a considerably
wood.
To attract "tray customers to hia
>• petite hotel,” he kept a formidable
baboon in the yard, chained, of course,
for the brute, to all appearance, was a
very vicious one.
Perot was apparently an honest fel
low. though his face was not a well fa
vored one; however, asp-none of his
patrons had ever been robbed at his
hotel nor in the immediate vicinity,
people were disposed to believe that
Dame Nature had acted uncharitably
bv him in bestowing such a villainous
face on so honest a fellow as Perot.
The incidents I am about to relate
occurred in the year 1870, just about
the time France and Prussia were men
acing each other, which terminated in
the terrible war that followed, and in
the overthrow of the French Empire.
As I have said, gentlemen, the ba
boon was the chief attraction at that
wayside hotel, and many flocked thither
to see Pont (the brute), who would not
else have cared to patronize the place.
Perot was a married man, his wife
was as ill-favored as he, but her native
wit and sprightly conversation made
one forget her homely features. She
must have received a fine education
besides, for her language was quite in
contrast with that of her illiterate hus
band.
They had but one child, a son, but
he was never visible—being confined in
an upper chamber. lie was about
twenty years of age, but a helpless im
becile —none of your harmless ones, if
Perot’s words could be relied on—but a
dangerous maniac. He was kept chain
ed to the floor of the apartment he oc
cupied, and those who knew of his ex
istence and his mental condition, were
wont to connect him and Pont, the ba
boon, in their remarks, and called them
the “two brutesand some went so
far to say that if Jean, the idiot, pos
sessed half the intelligence of his four
legged compeer, he would possibly be
of material use to his parents in attend
ing to the household duties.
When hostilities commenced between
the two countries, two separate misfor
tunes befell Perot Bremon; he lost
both his son and his baboon on the
Mine day. The son died and the brute
escaped, and it was a question which
| of the two calamities affected him the
most. He certainly had reason to be
grateful to Heaven that his helpless
Ison was taken away to a better world,
[but it was manifest that his grief for
[the loss of his baboon was most sin-
Icne.
I Perot had bat one original leg, the
■other was an old-fashioned “ timber
Btoes,” hence he was exempt from milr
■ary duty, and h*c had no fear that ei*
■her of the two great powers would mo-
Bst him in his honest pursuits. “For,”
B he facetiously remarked once, “what
B^ 1 would they have of such a fellow
■'he me? If they can find use for
■ den-legged men they will have
of them after they once have
B ll ' two or three grand battles, enough
B’H to spare, I warrant.”
■ Hostilities had progressed about a
when matters in the vicinity of
B 1 : z. matters of a mysterious charac-
B attracted the attention not only of
military commanders but of the
itself. Officers of high
■ - w "re found murdered on the road
—murdered and robbed besides —
|B* 1 d'ies from the Prussian camp were
as the assassins, but bow
Cr, ntrived to get within the lines
was indeed a mystery.
* " Hsian army was, at that period,
near Metz, whose inhabitants
believed to be too loyal to the
Government to harbor ant’
or spies in their midst, and vet
B secret assassins were plying their
trade almost dailj\
those found robbed and murder-
Xjre ne >ther bullet, dagger, nor sabre
B their skulls were shattered as
a 'tone or heavy bludgeon, which
the mystery that sur-
B. .|' ese assassinations.
en 3tk the Emperor applied to
The H artwell Sun.
y E/1. BENSON.
VOL VII., NO. 1.
the Prefecture of Palice for a remedy,
ask tag him had he a man among hia de
tective force possessing the reqnisite
qualities to ferret out these assassins
and destroy or take them prisoners.
Monsieur said lie thought be had oae
who could do it if it were possible to
Accomplish it, to which the Emperor
rejoiued:
“ Then see that the attempt to do so
is at least made, and speedily, too, for
at the rate these butcheries have been
going on there will ere long be a dearth
of able officers in onr armies.”
This dangerous duty was assigned to
me, and I was proud of the distinction
conferred on me. I had heard so much
of these Cowardly deeds that I longed
to cope with the assassin, for I really
believed that one person had done it all
—one single person. Everything con
nected with the transactions pointed to
that fact.
None but officers of high rank were
the victims, men who were presumed to
have money and valuables about their
persons. They were all despatched in
the same manner, by crushing their
skulls, and the murderous blow was
always dealt with their backs turned, as
I judged from the fact that the back of
the head was, in every instance, the as
sailed point. This looked like treach
ery on the part of the assailant.
Possibly the assassin engaged his
victim in conversation, and in an un
guarded moment dealt him the blow.
I built op a theory of my own. Had
I made it known to my chief, doubtless
lie would have called me visionary or
demented on the subject, but I wisely
kept it a secret —resolved to test it
thoroughly at all events.
I called on Perot Bremon, and over a
glass of wine discussed the matter.
He was disposed to think that some
bold, reckless Prussian, in the guise of
a French soldier, committed the deeds.
[ pooh-hoohed at this, and asked him to
give a more reasonable expression.
“ Well, if it is not a Prussian, who
does these villainous deeds—who can
it be ?” said he, with a thoughtful air.
“ Have you seen Pont since he es
caped ?” I asked him abruptly.
lie glanced at me with a singular
expression of his face, then replied :
“ No, the cunning brute keeps out of
sight.”
" lie was a cunning fellow, was he?”
[ asked.
“ Indeed he was,” replied he, quite
enthusiastically, “be had more sense
than some human beings.”
“ Your son, Jean, for instance,” Ire
marked.
“ I)o not mention his name,” said he,
covering his face with bis hands, as if
overwhelmed at his recent loss. I look
ed at him, and perceived that every
vestige of color had forsaken his face 1
“ Come, my friend, since the bare
mention of your son affects you thus,
let us talk about your other loss, the
baboon. He was very sensible for a
brute, you say ?”
“ That he was,” said he, looking up
again, “ he appeared to have the intel
ligence of a human being in some
things. He was a great thief too,” he
continued, “he ouce snatched my watch
from my pocket, and I never got it from
him again, he seemed to have a great
liking for trinkets and money, and
managed, after he got them, to hide
them so securely that it was impossi
ble to find where he hid them.”
“You surprise me, monsieur,” said
I, “ I did not thiuk he was that cun
ning. So he appeared to like money,
eh V
“Indeed he did ; isn’t it strange ?”
“ Very,” said I, “and in view of what
you told me, a very strange idea came
into my head. You say the brute
never came back, nor have you seen
him since he fled from home. Now is
it not possible that Pont is the mysteri
ous assassin that has so startled the
community ?”
“The saints preserve us, I believe you
are right,” be cried, “ the same thought
struck me once or twice, but when I
came to think over it well, I concluded
it was not possible that he could do
these things for so long a period and
not be detected.”
“ But you know be is so cunning, and
with brutes, cunning goes as far as
shrewdness does with men ; therefore,
Devoted to Hart County.
HARTWELL. OA.. SEPTEMBER 9, 1882.
so cunning a fellow as Pont, would be
eminently capable of doing just such
deeds; don’t you think ao f”
“ I believe you are right again, mou
sieur,” responded he.
M A man in the same case would
finish his victim by a dagger-thrust or
sabre-cut, but our cunuing Pont, in his
bruttish instinct, makes use of weap
ons nature has taught him to use.”
*‘ Bv all the saints, you convince me
that it must be ray baboon that did
these murder*-Ft
“ And robberies,” I added.
“ Certaiuly,” responded he.
" And see what an evidence of hu
man shrewdness he displays both in the
selection of his victims and the man
ner in which he plunders them after
wards. The last officer he killed had
on his person a letter of instructions to
a field officer on the frontier. When
the murdered man was found this let
ter was missing, having been picked
out from some half dozen others of no
importance. Could any human soul do
a more shrewd act than that—could
your son do it ?”
His eyes flashed on mine at the con
cluding words, and again I noticed that
peculiar expression sweep over his face.
“ Why do you always bring in nay
son ?” lie demanded angrily.
“ Because there is such a marked con
trast between them,” I answered.
Folks aound here call them the ‘two
brutes,’ and I think your son loses by
the comparison, for Pont is the more in
telligent of the two. Your son would
not have had the sense to pick out the
letter mentioned, and by means un
known to all save himself, passed tlie
important latter across the boundary
into the hands of the Prussian -general
in-chief.”
“ No. m} r poor Jean would not have
had the sense to do that,” he rejoined
thoughtfully.
“ And that a real brute should do so
is most singular,” remarked I, with my
eyes on his face.
“ So it is,” responded he.
“ Have yon heard nothing of Pont
since lie left you ?” I asked him again.
“ Nothing,” was the laconic answer.
“Is it not strange that no one has
seen the creature ?”
“ It is.”
“ lie must be somewhere in the vi
cinity,” I pursued, “ and now that the
country is swarming with soldiers, some
one would most certainly see him some
time or other, if he is still alive.”
“ Perhaps he is dead,” suggested he.
“In that case who commits tliose
cruel and cowardly assassinations ?” I
asked.
Perot had no reply for this question,
but I saw that he was iiettied by my
pointed questions, and I resolved to
worry him still more, so I abruptly
asked:
“ What was the cause of your son’s
death ?”
“ Heart disease, the doctor said,” he
replied.
“ Where did yon bury him T’
“ Back of the house,”
“ By permission of the authorities ?”
“ Certainly,” said he, and again he
glanced curiously at me as if he would
know my motive in questioning him
thus; but, though he was manifestly
annoyed bj’ manner, he kept his tem
per.
We finished a bottle of wine between
us, which I paid for, and then departed.
I entered Marshal Bazaine’s tent
after I reached camp, and had an inter
terview with him. He knew my object
in coming to the camp, and our conver
sation was mainly confined to that sub
ject.
Between us we perfected a plan to
entrap this bold assassin, and 1 offered
myself as the bait.
Bazaine endeavored to dissuade me
from my purpose, but I was determined
to see the end of the mystery if that
was possible.
That afiernoou I left Metz and went
by the road on which Bremen's hotel
was situated. I wai attired in the uni
form of a colonel, sported a massive
chain across my breast, with various
trinkets dangling from it, and had be
sides, several sparkling rings on my
fingers, enough to tempt any common
villain to commit murder to gain pos-
session of them. 1 thought.
* You may supiHwe that 1 was on the
alert after I entered the woods through
which the pathway led. I was folly
•fiiied and prepared for any manner of
attack.
I hail a drink at Perot Breroon’a ho
tel, and displayed considerable gold
while paying for the same. Of course
I was well disguised, and Perot did not
suspect that I was the pertinacious
questioner who had so vexed him a few
u mrs before.
Soon after I left, the hotel, I entered
the woods, for the house stood within
ooe-fmirth of a mile of it.
As 1 turned a bend of the road, I
observed someone sitting on a large
stone, as if resting. It was a young
man with a death-like skin, and a
piercing black eye. He had a wicker
basket by his side ; it contained a mis
cellaneous assortment of articles, such
as are needed in a camp.
As he glauoed up, I noticed that one
of- his eyes was sightless, and as he
arose to give ine the military salute, 1
also perceived that otic of his legs was
shorter than Its mate.
The fellow would have lieen hand
some had he both of his eyes, and a
tinge of color iu liia intensely white
visage.
I nodded to his salute, then asked
him had lie been to the camps, and he
answered in the affirmative.
*? Ido not remember seeing you be
fore,” said I.
*• Nor I you, colonel,” he said re
spectfully, “ yet I've been through the
camps almost every day.”
“ I arrived from Algiers only a few
days ago,” said I, and while I convers
ed with him I examined him pretty
well from head to foot. He was a com
pact, muscular person, though rather
the medium height, he held a
leathern bag, which he was fumbling
with while we were talking, and I ask
ed him what he had in the bag.
“ The proceeds of my sales,” he re
plied.
“ I)o j’ou always carry it in your
hand ?”
“ No, not when I am engaged in sell
ing ; but out of sight of men I carry
it in my basket, for it is pretty heavy,
see ?” and he held it by the mouth and
let it hang down when he shook it vig
orously. It contained a quantity of
coins, judging by the sound, but it also
emitted a peculiar, dead sound, as if
something besides coins was in it, but
I did not make any remarks in refer
ence to this.
I purchased a few of his wares, and
in paying for them displayed the con
tents of ray purse—gold and silver In
profusion.
I saw that his eye glistened at sight
of the gold and I accordingly kept a
wary eye on all of his movements. He
gave me my change and I started to go.
I had taken but a few steps when he
called to me and I stopped. He ap
proached and asked had he given me
the right change.
“Certainly," said I, and he bowed,
swinging his purse in his hand.
I started to go, but suddenly turned
round and beheld the secret assassin.
He had his leathern purse by the
end and was whirling it aroud his head
and when he saw me turn round so un
expectedly he gave vent to an oath and
hurled the bag at my bead. I ducked
my head and sprang upon him just as
he was searching for his kuife, and
bore him to the earth.
Ho was indisputably a powerful fel
low, nud fought like a tiger—using na
ture’s weapons, since I prevented his
using the slung-sbot and knife, be fought
with his fists, kicked with his feet, bit
with his teeth and butted with his head.
“Come now, Jean Bremon,” said I,
and he uttered a hoarse cry and fought
ten times more savagely. I had guessed
aright. I had suspected that the re
port of his death was a deception and
that the secret assassin was the son of
Perot Bremon.
There had been a burial, however,
at the time, and it was my purpose to
see the contents of that lonely grave.
I was obliged to render the fellow
senseless in order to hand-cuff him, so 1
planted a scientific blow between his
eyes, and he ceased to struggle. When
he came to his senses I had him secured
Terms, SI.OO in Adrance.
hand and foot.
He hurled the vilest epithet* at ne
as he lay helplessly before me while 1
opened his pirae before hia eves. It
cnauinod Rome doaen or two sous and a
leaded ball the sise of a mans fist, that
was the ‘‘skull crusher.**
I gaggl'd the rascal to quiet him, then
draggl'd him into the hushes and tied
him to a tree with a stout rope I had
with me, after which 1 went back to
camp aud made my report.
A guard was aunt to bring the mur
derer to camp, while I headed another
on route for Perot Bremoo’a hotel. 1
had resumed my customary garments,
and he trembled with apprehension
when we halted before his door, for he
at once recognised mo.
‘‘Good-day, Monsieur Bremen," said
I, “I come to announce to you the cap
ture of oue of your brutes.”
"Due of them!” echoed he, in a
hushed voice, while he turned deadly
pale, “I had but one— Pont.”
‘‘You mistake, you had two. One of
liiein is dead, and the other, the secret
assnsfin, was captured to-day.”
“What!” cried he, pretending to be
overjoyed, “have you really caught my
baboon f”
“Yes, I caught your babooa iu the
act of striking me on the back of the
head with his money bag. uud by this
time he doubtless is in camp, if he is
not already executed."
Perot did not hear the last sentence,
for when 1 mentioned the money bag,
he sank to the floor iu a swoon.
But the piercing shriek from his wife
iu an adjoiniug room proved that she
had heard all, and when oue of the
soldiers entered the apartmeut, ho found
madaine laying as limp as her husband
on the floor.
We tied them hand and foot, and
loekad them in separate rooms, tlion
sought the grave of poor Jean, and
presently discovered it. On examina
tion we found a body enclosed in a
rough box, and that body was poor
Pont instead of poor Jeau. One brute
had been sacrificed by Perot Bremon to
conceal the other brute.
The precious pair were also taken to
camp, while half a dozen men remained
at the house. I remarked to them
when we departed that there was a free
bar for the day, and they gave a joyous
cheer.
After the two elder prisoners were
safe in camp, I returned to tbo hotel
with several officers, and searched the
premises thoroughly. Quite a number
of watches and jewelry, together with
bunk notes, gold and silver, were found
hidden in vurious recesses, thus fully
implicating the parents with their son’s
horrid crimes.
It appeared that Jean had at no time
been demented, but was subject to peri
odic epileptic fits, and it was during
one of these attacks that the report was
circulated that the young man had
died, and was actually prepared as il
for burial, hut the other brute wax
killed and secretly placed in tbo coffin
and buried, while the son lay iu the
garret until he recovered.
The wily landlord then announced
that Pont, the baboon, had escaped, to
account for his absence, while the young
man prepared himself for a career of
crime.
The two human brutes were summa
rily executed, and the scarcely less
guilty woman was sent to Paris for a
life-long term of imprisonment.
A Legislative Doorkeeper.
Some of ’em arc very like Cousin
John Thrasher’s man who told him he
wanted to be doorkeeper, but cousin
John had promised to vote for another
feller, and so, to get rid of him, he
says: “Why, Jim, did you ever keep
a door T' “No,” says he. “Did you
ever study a l>ook on keeping a door?”
“No,” says he. "Did you ever see
anybody keep a door?” “I never did,”
says he. "Well, did you ever attend
lectures in Augusta, or anywliere, on
how to keep a door f” “Of course
not,” says he. “Well, my dear sir,
you had better go back home, and
prepare yourself by the next Bession,
and I’ll vote for you.” —Atlanta Con
stitution,
“KOtUII ox RATS.”
Clears out rats, mice, roaches, flies, bed
bugs, chipmunks, gophers. 15c. Druggists.
WHOLE NO. m
The CuttM Min a*W Ukes Owkty Inveu
lion.
K.li Whitney, the inventor of the
cotton gin, conceived the ideas of hi*
invention and built Ida first gia in tMij
county. Ha livßd hare for a number oil
years, and the boose in which he first
operated his crude machine is still
standing. In the place of the saws,
which wore Invented later, he used
short pkXea of wire and drove them lit
the cylinder. Aa Ve cylinder revolv
ed the ends of the wire passed betwOeft
the rigs aud separated the seed from
lint cotton. When thn wire point*
were so full of cotton that they coulil
take on no more the cylinder ws stop
ped and taken off by band. Whitney
was exhibiting his machine to some la
dies one day, and as he revolved the
cylinder am! the ootton waa accumulat
ing on it, one of the laities took an Of.
dinary hair lyusb end brushed the lint
otf tbe iron paints. The inventor
looked up suddenly and exclaimed;
“ Madam you have perfected my inven
tion." The brush of tlx present day
was applied to the gin from this sug
gestion. ■ ""** —*
The saws that arc now owed, arc an
improvement invented Hy some other
man. Whitney’s idea* #eh? impropri
ated by others, aud he reaped much
vexAtion and little pf 4t Irani bis in
vention, having become involved in
many law-stllts. However, bis name
will go down to posterity as the igvent
or of Hie cotton gju, which made him
an immortal bouc factor of tiic South.
A handsome tomb aoveiw'M* in
Massachusetts, which we bdlcve was
Ills natite State.— Wamimjlxm [Go.)
Gazette.
ConUiiniug all the csscutiaU of struo
tonic, and sure to giue satisfaction, is
Browu’s IronrßitWts.
The Law of Newspapers.
It is an unwritten law well under
stood in journalism, says the Boston
Truvikr\ that no aditor hi under ( the
slightest obligation to giva a reason for
his acceptance or uon-accaplauea of a
manuscript. Her is not called upon to
write a private critique on tho article
to the author of it. Ilia acceptance or
rejection is an absolute and unques
tkmsblo foot. Among amateur writers
this does not appear to be understood.
All sub-editors and reporters understand
that it is an unjustifiable impertinence
to ask the managing editor his reason
for publishing or not publishing any
matter submitted to his judgement.
Outside writers and aspiring amateurs
rarely seem to comprehend this truth,
uud their transgressions arc largely
from ignorance rather than intention.
The nature of cditoriul work requires
absolute |owcr of decision, iu order to
preserve the unities of the journal tho
editor conducts.
Nervousness, debility, and exhausted
vitality cured by using Brown’s Iron
Bitters.
Wish I’d a Kim wed it Sooner.
“ Uncle Sam,” said a colored boy to
black Hamuel, a negro wiio used to bot
tom chairs forColouelSandy Faulkner,
“ whar yer gwine ?’’
“ Gwine fiahin,” chile, why yer ax
ma ?”
“ Did yer know that Auat Tiddy is
dead f”
“Go on, chile ! Is data fact ? Yer
doan mean ter say dat ray wife is
dead ?”
“ Yes, sab.”
“ When she die ?”
“ I)is morn in.”
“ Wall, I’s sorry I warn’t dar ! Tell
’em to go an’ make dc ’rangements,
dat I’ll bo back agin* de funeral. I’se
done dug worms for bait now. Wish
I’d knowod it sooner l”— Arkanm*
Traveler.
‘■■VCHtTAIBA,"
Quick, complete, all annoying Kidney,
bladder and Urinary Diseases. SI
gists.
II KM* FOR
Unmarried People!
MEN AMI WOMEN’S MUTUAL
Relief Fowl Asocisation.
ATLANTA, GA.,
ISSUES CERTIFICATES OF $2,000.
Payable hi thirty day* aftrr maturity ef Cortitl
raU-. which ie twelve month* from date of imruiMt*
CrrUAoateof Kudowuntut.
For Constitution ami By Tjw addre!**-
MDTUAI, RELIEF FUND ASSOCIATION,
Cor. Broad and liunh r Stroot*, Atlanta, Ua
G. I>. HARWELL, Secretary,
Atlanta. Ga.
E. B. BENSON, Agent, Hartwell.
fcbSß 83
CHARLES W. SEIDELL,
ATTORNEY-AT-LA W,
lIAHTWCII., A.