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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.