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Slaying of Al Boyce in Street of Texas Town End of First Narrative of Love Tragedy of the Plains TREACHERY OF OLD FRIEND LEAVES SCARLET THREAD IN ITS WAKE Snead’s Avenging Gun-Brings Balm to His Torn Heart—Faithless Bride Pays Penalty With Health, Happiness and Beauty. December and May Romance Shattered When Young Wife, Tired of Lonely Ranch Life, Heeded Call of Youthful Wooer. X vendetta as remorseless as Corsrica knew when steel, and not the law, was t he weapon with which, wrongs were avenged has reached its tragic termi tviiion. A blood lust .as poignant as ever inspired a Breathitt county moun tainer to sight down his squirrel rifle ~, «jpe out private grievance has been satiated. ' stcry that has left a red blot on all *T as was written when, after a veaf of v .thing, John Beall Snead, mil. iionHvc cattleman and banker of Giorgetown, Teaxs. saw Al Boyce, Jr., ci before the portals of an Amarillo church and the smoke of his own shot gun told him as it drifted lazily to meet the blazing Lone Star sun that his mission of vengeance had been fulfilled.’ Boyce. father, and Boyce, son. had wreck) d his home and his life. From the viewpoint of the cattleman. Boyce, fuller, and Boyce, son, must die. It the law that lie had known since the early cattle days when he had buc kled on his first six-shooter. In his mind he could not look his fellow Tex ans in the eye until both Boyces were In their graves and his hand had sent them there. Wife, As Well, Pays the Penalty. Boyce, father, was slain in a Fort Worth hotel as the New Year of 1912 dawned. Boyce, son, perished Satur day And a woman, frail, hysterical— some say insane—lives,.the price of the blood that the code of the range de manded The beauty that had made young Boyce forget the sanctity of his neighbor’s home has disappeared. The avenging shotgun of her husband could not restore the good name that she had borne before the first chapter of the tragedy was written. She, too, as well as the Boyces, lias paid the price. There is a sequel to be written to the s‘w-y, but. like all sequels, it loses the gripping Interest of the first narrative. It maj be written in the dim light of a <!■ cell. It may be tol<J in the nar. r .rifines of a steel-barred room es stem It may drool away’ for thou fof pages through the hopeless, bit’ declining years of the slayer. Bui whatever the end may be, the • • t thread that has run through the r rrativ. since its beginning will be t •re viren the Great Author writes His "finis." Harkens Back to Gun Reign Days. Th* beginning of the story harkens bi k to the days in Texas when man’s mud it w.-is law, when the six-shooter - r • ight-d Blackstone on the scales of justice, when the price of a man’s ■ ••i t • was the life of the man that had fib-lied it. .In’m Beall Snead was horn and r i in the rough and ready clays of T -e. before civilization’s progress had f'ht man’s impulse to act on his pi inal instincts. IPs fatiier was a pioneer cattleman. His ranches covtV’d counties. His steers ran into the tens of thousands. T is father’s wealth and ideals he fell heir The Snead home seat was near G-<»i gvtown. In that section members of th - family were overlords. Their powr was? as undisputed as that of feudal baron. ’’n m adjoining ranch lived the P 1 • ns. The Boyce acre's were no less bi 'ad than those of the Sneads. Their '■'iitle interests were none smaller. T ”ir social position was the same. For pars* the Boyces and the Sneads lived as peaceful neighbors. Friendship be tv.<pn members of the family was inu and deep until one evening John F” ’ll Snead brought home his bride. I hut evening there was a red glory of 'Otting sun and the !>ys were re- II t■ d on both ranches. December and May Are Wed. Snead had waited until late in life to 9' i a mistress far his millions. When I''. finally entered the heart of the cattleman it went out to a woman rs his junior. Her ideas were the of New Texas. Her environment i been that of the city rather titan ’ ranch. Her education had been in the seminary. His had been on the plains. But despite the wide difference in rs and the vast discrepancy in ideals training, the pair seemed excellt nt. ' mated. The tender, rose-pink bride pirently had given her whole heart t n primitive cattleman. He turn bestowed on her a devrftion that the man who has reached the no of life gives the maiden who has t endered her youth to become his '■ companion. The Snead fortune was at Iter com ’>i to grant her every whim. Snead's -'•nee was Iter guarantee that her ' wish would be gratified. Years irried happiness seemed to stretch before pair as unending as the of the husband. T he Meeting of The Soul Mates. iwas high rejoicing* at the Sneaa h <»n the arrival of a mistress for domain. The youthful bride was •'1 in true T' xan style Bonfires in <1 a roynl welcome to hei Hnli a-is declared for the cowboys They • far (o join the revelry of th' - n Ni ighbors traveled from ui - bug ranches to • xtend th' ir con ■ ''>ilat|cnM And on Hie eventful evening th'iv were no congratulations more warm nor more gratefully accepted than the felicitations offered by the members of the house of Boyce. Albert Boyce. Sr., was among the first to shake the hand of his lifelong friend and neighbor and was among the first to be proudly presented to the radiant young bride. , V ith him had ridden his son, Albert Boyce. Jr., pride of his father’s heart, heir to the Boyce fortune, hope of the ; Boyce house He, too. was of the New Texas. His education had been ob- ; _ 0 li awiSb r| liiim#/ L k’-■ i * • • *• *n ffl w wRj 11S I. 1 1.1:! 1 : ■ ii jj C HI Mrs snead and ZjovceQL ELOPE AND <PO TO —. CANADA tafned in the cities and in college. His Rearing had been under a different [school than that in which his father and Snead had been taugnt their ideas of life. Each Sees They Are of the Same World. He had the breeding of the plains, but the training of the city. In the hearty but rude welcome of the ranch he and the bride both were conspicu ously out of the picture. To them bride’s roses would have been more fitting decoration than burning mes quite brush. Evening clothes would have been more fitting than rawhide chaps. : When the youth grasped the hand of the bride each knew that they were looking in the eyes of one of their own world, a world from which they were as far removed as if both had been east on a. coral island of the South Seas. With this realization the seed of trage dy was planted. Snead and his bride . soon settled plown to the humdrum of ranch life. So I overwhelming was the husband love ■ that he could not see that which was not supplied to make the life of his mate complete. Her every wish was a command to him, but he could not bring to the mesquite the pleasures that had been hers before she had pledged her self to him for eternity. Albert Boyce, Jr., was the sole link that connected her with that existence, which as the weeks and months rolled on in unend* ing sameness, seemed farther and far ther away, more and more to be de sired. Young Boyce Interested in Bride. At the Boyce ranch It was noticed that for the first time young Albert was evincing a "deep interest in his father's cattle affairs. His trips to Fort Worth, Amarillo and nearby cities which had been constant became less frequent. They finally practically stopped. When he left his father’s es tates, it was only to make a neighborly ride to the Snead ranvh. Boyce, Sr., rejoiced in the interest the, son was taking in his affairs. Snead saw nothing sinister in the in creasing frequency of young Boyce's visits to his home. He had known the bo> from childhood. In his mind he could never be anything but a child, the son of his friend. Business affairs constantly called tire cattleman to Fort Worth, where he was largely interested in several banking institutions. He was glad that the presence of his neighbor’s boy pre cluded the possibility of the wife of his ‘ heart becoming lonesome during his absence. But the Cattleman Sees No Treachery. Others saw the friendship of the youth of tire city for the bride ripen into dangerous' fruit. They kept still tongues in their heads. Mrs. Snead was Caesar's wife. The cattleman saw nothing, knew nothing but his great love for tile girl he had brought to shat* his home. Finally he began to recognize that the rose h< had planted in the prairie «m wilting His mind could not gra«p though, that it was pining for the ex uth air of tit' city and the care of a THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN AND NEWS.TUESDAY. SEPTEMBER 17. 1912. MRS SNEAD AND EVENTS LN THE TRAGEDY —. wk ~ ’ it/11du .-?■ Sa Jw / ar i / WW//K a. r T w I k / Bw w BBI& I 'O'— ' s Y- ’ b ? r ' 5 N£AD, WEARING- atalsebeard IffiSigß/' Ii f Y| /A6 axu-sovise. J ' I KILLS Al, \\ eel/ v '; 1 ITfll rf)Piu!’ Mrs ' ** Sneax> ant> \Yz y I ill'll aw / her husband ° \ Wgv* Mw • become \ '■ U RECONCILED They are \ \ B ’’ ARRESTED IN \ WIKNTPE&7 Y, 'I Z CANADA- Z gardener whb knew plant life in urbane places. Physicians were consulted. Her af fection was nervous, they declared. Plenty of sun and air was the cure they prescribed. The ranch gave her all of that. Only Young Boyce Brings Back the Roses. But the rose continued to wilt. Only under the care of young Boyce diil its beauty return. His visits to the Snead home became still more frequent. Finally, the cattleman moved his wifi' to Fort Worth. She was placed under the care of a specialist. A trained nurse was provided her. The cattle man longed to see the roses return to her cheeks. When Mrs. Snead left the ranch young Boyce's interest in cattle sud denly died. He hurried to Fort Worth. The youth and the bride met. They realized the inevitable. The impulse that had drawn their lives together from the first meeting could nut be de nied. An elopement was planned. Both Fear the Husband’s Wrath. Both realized its dangers. They knew the school in which Snead had been trained. They knew his charac ter. They knew he loved his honor more than he did his life. Still they did not hesitate. The months and months they had been kept apart seemed to them so much wasted tiine. The sooner they could be together be yond the shadow of the husband was in their tninds all that the world held. So it was that while riding on a trol ley car with Iwr trained nurse Mrs. Snead disappeared. At the same time the earth apparently swallowed young Boyce. The cattleman was aroused. His be lief was that his wife, mentally de ranged, had wandered off, knowing not where she went. Detectives were put on the trail. But to his mind shr still was Caesar's wife. People began to whisper. The whis pers became murmurs Finally they I wore loud enough to reitch the ears of J fjnead. Still his \\ if. was above r< - I proach. I’ntll he had proof to the con- I trary, she could do no w roiig Then the blow fi 11. A t> tTiim w.is received by the cattleman. It told hint [ t.’.at his wife hud been located in Uau- ada, living with Boyce. The pair had pierced far toward the Arctic circle to escape the husband. Had they known the trail of blood that was to follow them, their journey would probably have been continued to the ends of the earth. Even chill Canada had not fur nished them asylum from the law of the range. That evening Snead returned to his wifeless home and again the setting sun shed red rays on the two ranches. He swore no deep oath. He did not kiss dagger with Corsican dramatics as lie mentallj- promised vengeance for his shattered home. But he buckled on his six-shooters, which custom had long since declared no necessary part of a Texas gentle man’s wearing apparel. Prom that mo ment war was declared on the house of Boyce. Law officers wore sent to bring the girl-wife back to the home from which she had lied. She still was Caesar’s wife. No officers were sent for Boyce. The only law that Snead knew iiad de manded a blood penalty of him. Snead was content to wait. Apparently, Snead Forgives His Wife. The wife returned. She was again made mistress of the broad lands and the fortune of the husband she had de serted. To all intent she was forgiven, but there was no forgiveness for the man or the man's kind that the hus band considered had lured her away and besmirched his honor. Prominence of th< families made the affair the talk of that section of Texas. Powerful as was Snead, he could not keep tongues from wagging. Another blow was struck at his al ready heavily laden heart. The elder Boyce, his friend, his neighbor, his business associate, was said to have been fully informed of his son's action. In fact, he had supplied the money that made the elopement and settle ment in Canada possible. He also had said things that should not have been said of Caesar's wife. Shoots Old Friend Who Had Deceived Him. Th' \.IHHII!'T w.tb Still in <’tn- ida, blit th' eld' 1* Boyer in I'.nt Worth. Th* r« wa* work for Hn<*ad !*• do. Tout nit;ut hr uib. <1 ins .ix-yaout- ers. The next morning he rode to Fort Worth. The cattlemen met in the lobby of one of the prominent hotels of the Texas city. It is not recorded that Snead gave the father a chance to fight for his life. As he construed the law of the range, the man was beyond the pale of human consideration. He was to be shot as a wolf, as a mad dog. The six shooters did their work well. The elder J3oyce died in the chair in which he was seated. Snead did not count "one,” nor did he cut a notch in his.gun’s handle. Hi? slipped loaded cartridges in the cells where the exploded ones had been. There was still work for those pistols His arrest followed. His trial came on. But there is still an Old Texas as well as a New Lone Star state. The twelve men who were summoned to try Snead were nable to determine which were the proper laws, those made in Austin or those born of the range. A mistrial resulted. Snead was re leased under heavy bonds. Young Boyce’s Love For Home Fatal. Canada still gave .young Boyce a haven. He had not dared come to Texas for the funeral of his father. He had not appeared at the trial of the slayer of his parent. He knew the price of the range’s law. But months sped by. Snead had re tired to his ranch, wnere he was ap parently devoting his life to the woman who had wrecked It. The boy’s heart yearned for his native Texas. Perhaps it yearned for sight of th.- woman for whom he had sacrificed honor Time gave him confidence. Months of silence on the part of Snead gave him courage. Quietly he prepared to return home. No word of his intended trip was com municated to Amarillo, but last week he appeared on its streets. And the word was flashed to the ranchman. That night an automatic shotgun was added to the traditional armane nt of the Texan. Pistols frequently miss A suier <1 ith Is carried |u a shotgun loaded w ith buckshot. Failure to earrj out his work wus no part of Sneaus plan. Few recognized the ranchman when he appeared th. next duj on th. streets lof \inarillo Fot months hi- had !><-• r |ln -■< ci.-ioii Those months had been TURNER HOLDS IIP LICHTCOmCT Councilmen Won’t Take Any Action Till His Fate Is Set tled at Primary. Because the members of council do not care to oppose City Electrician R. C. Turner, the pending contract for the city’s street lighting will be held up unSil after the city primary of October 2. In the meantime it will be much used as a campaign document. Members of council expect to ap prove the bid of the Georgia Railway and Power Company for the city’s street lighting. They declare it was the only bid submitted, after all possible competitors were invited to submit bids; that it was a reduction of about $20,000 a year on the present contract, and that it was approved by the elec tric lights committee, and Mr. Turner himself said it was a low bid. The committee requested John E. Mc- Clelland. chairman of the committee, to get City Attorney Mayson to draft the contract in proper legal form. Chair man McClelland turned the contract over to City Electrician Turner. City Electrician Turner is still holding the contract without having submitted It to the city attorney, and the members of the committee say they will not inter fere until after the city primary. No Action Taken. The electric lights committee met yesterday afternoon. Chairman Mc- Clelland, who announced that he would urge that new street light bids be asked, was not present, and no other member of the committee mentioned the contract. The members of the committee real ize that the Georgia Railway and Pow er Company has a monopoly in Atlanta to all practical purposes. The bid of the company was secured after a long agitation. Preston Arkwright, presi dent of the company, has announced that lie would not submit another bid. As the Central Georgia Power Compa ny, the only other company with lines to Atlanta, will not bld, the eouncllmen consider the present bid the best one available. Mr. Turner declares that the city should build its own plant. The pres ent contract with the electric company does not expire until next March, and the city can legally continue under it for a year from then. Aiderman John E. McClelland also advocates a munici pal plant. The members of the electric lights committee are McClelland, Hall, Cham bers, Mason and Candler. ACCUSED IN WAYCROSS SLAYING, SHOT BY OFFICER WAYCROSS, GA., Sept. • 17.—Rich ard Knight died this morning from a gunshot wound, alleged to have been fired by Amos Jackson. Jackson was shot when he resisted arrest, but was caught. months of suffering, of brooding, of thirst for vengeance. They had told in the lines of his face. He was no longer the happy, prosperous, well kept ranch man of the olden days. A false beard covered his cheeks and chin. A new fire burned in his deep set eyes. He walked about the streets with his shotgun under his arm, as a huntsman carries it. He was hunting, and the hunt was a still one. Days passed and there was no sight of his prey. At last, as once more the sun was setting and the rays were red, Boyce appeared He was riding in a street car. Perhaps he saw the grim hunter on the sidewalk as he sped past He did not recognize him if he did. Boyce alighted one block farther on. The hunter still stalked him. The last chapter of the tragedy was to be writ ten. The safety notch on the gun was pushed forward and Snead drew nearer. Shot Down in Shadow of Church. The eloper stood before the doorway of a church. Its sanctuary afforded him no refuge. He saw the hunter ap proach, but he did not know that he was the game. He saw (he shotgun raised and point ed. He had no time to flee. The gun roared and he fell, his right side pierced with 30 buckshot. It is doubtful if even in the final moment he recognized his slayer. A weeping mother, two heart-broken brothers were soon on the scene. They, too, were paying the price. They did not see the slayer His work was done. With steady tread he walked to the of fice of the sheriff He handed over his snotgun. The six-shooters were un buckled. Snead stood ready to answer to man-made law. The law of the range had been paid Its penalty of blood. Sold under the unqualified guarantee of “satisfaction, or money back.” ) lb. 20c. 1 lb. 10c. —'. t lb. sc. None better made at any price. All good Grovcra sell it or will get it for you. TAFT PINS HOPE 01WW Expects Support in November From Conservative Business Interests and Thinkers. BEVERLY. MASS., Sept. 17.—Presi dent Taft in an interview that is re markable when it is considered inter views with the chief executive of the United States Are rare, especially dur ing a national campaign, voiced his Ideas today on many phases of the country's problems. Referring to the candidates of the other parties and the other leadens of the Democrats and Progressives, the president saldt “They know where we stand. Ws can only guess where they stand." Then the president was askedt “Mr. President, don't you expect cess for the regular Republican organiL zatlon at the polls in November?” "I am not an optimist,” said Mr. Taftt: smilingly, "but I thtnk we will quiet vote of the conservative business! interests and the thinking laboring men; on election day which will surprise them. Not the vote that Is itself noisily or in straw votes In the newspapers, but the quiet vote of tb®l conservative business Interests which.] prefers the continuing benefits of aH tried administration to the untrted, InJ definite promises of those who olamorf for a change, ■ "There are Indications that Roose velt will draw as large a vote front ths’ Democrats as from the Republican ranks in many locaHttes. Thl s ts t}, e vote of those with Socialistic tendencies’ which would go to Wilson If U did-no*. go to Roosevelt,” SHOWGIRLS HOME BESIEGED BY SWAIN ONE WHOLE NIGHT ST. LOUIS, Sept. 17— Pleading on his knees before a photograph of Miss Margaret Mather that he be allowed to see her and tell of hts love, resulted in alter P. Walsh, a salesman, being sent to the observation ward of the city hospital. It was said there Sat urday he was affected mentally. Walsh, who is 33 years old, began a siege of Miss Mather’s home at 11 o’clock at night, and continued it until 11 o’clock next morning. Miss Mather’s brothers, Frank and Albert, Jr., were loath to cause his arrest, because the families long have known each other and are friendly. Miss Mather is nineteen yeans old and one of the "Minstrel Maids” at the Princess theater. She was returning home at night when Walsh met her at the comer, near the Mather home. “I want you, Margaret," he said. Miss Mather screamed and her brothers went to her aid. Walsh went to the Mather home and pleaded on hfs knees to be allowed to see the girl, Albert Mather said. When he was refused, he walked baok and forth In the Mather yard until 3 a. tn. He departed, but returned later and was admitted to th© house. He imme diately fell on his knees before Miss Mather's picture and began to pray, Mather said. screams¥heiTdad, gone 30 YEARS,-EMBRACES HER* ST. IXIUTS, Sept. 17.—When D, Franklin Osborn, an aged farmer, o 3 Wichita, Kans., arrived at the National stock yards, In East St. Louis, in charge of a load of cattle and met "Ben" A. Welllever, an electrician at the yards, he was surprised to learn Welllevel l was the husband of hls daughter, whom he had not seen for 30 years, Osborn, then a carpenter at Oska loosa, lowa, left his wife and three children to seek better employment, and, after a long illness, lost track of his family. Welllever gave him his first clew of the whereabouts of the others. Welllever and Osborn hurried to his daughter's home. He found her in-the kitchen, rushed to her and grasped faer in his arms. Mrs. Welliever, not rec ognizing her father, struggled to escape and screamed for help. He explained his identity, and, after passing the aft ernoon with his daughter and five grandchildren, departed for Hale, Mo., where he will visit a son whom he has not seen for 30 years. Osborn has since married and has eight children by his second wife. ROB AND BEAT JUDGE. CHICAGO. Sept. 17. —Police today are investigating a mysterious attack on Municipal Judge James f. Martin, who was robbed, beaten and left on the la>wn of a home next his own. Al though robbery was the ostensible mo tive, the police think that th<- judge may have been the victim of a ven geance plot. 3