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ariaa ftlayiie Or, The Strange Disappearance CHAPTER XXXVI. Tho day'of the trial came. It was a bright spring day, and from an early hour 'i/n the morning the village was crowded to overflowing with people ppllected from all parts of the county. the courtâ€"room was filled to suffoca- tion. It was with the greatest difficulty that order could be maintained when the prisoner, in the custody of the hitsrlt sheriff, was brought ln‘io court. The venerable presiding judge was supposed to be unfriendly to the ac- cused. and the State's Attorney was known to be personally. as well as otllcially, hostile to his interests. So strongly were the minds of the people prejudiced upon one side or the other that it was with much trouble that Iwolvo men could be found who had not made up their opinions as to the prisoners innocence or guilt. At length, however. a jury was empaneled, and the trial commenced. When the prisoner was placed at the bar, and asked the astral question, “Guilty or not guilty?" some of the old haugh'iiness curled the lip and flashed from the eye of Thurston \\’illcoxen. as though he disdained to answer a charge so base; and he replied in a low, scornful tone. “Not guilty, your honor." The opening charge of the State‘s Attorney had been carefully prepared. Mr. Thomson had never in his life had so important a case upon his hands, and he was resolved to make the most of it. His speech was well reasoned, logical, eloquent. To destroy in the minds of the Jury every favorable impression left by the late blameless and beneficent life of Mr. Willcoxen, he did not fail to adduce, from olden history, and from later tunes, every signal instance of deprav- ltl’. cloaked with hypocrisy, in high places; be enlarged upon wolves in sheeps’ clothingfiSa'tan in an angel's garb, and dolefully pointed out how 1‘11qu times the indignant question ofâ€" fs thy servant a dog. that he should do this thing ?"â€"-had been answered by results in the affirmative. He raked up David's sin from the ashes of ages. Where was the scene of that crime. and. who was its perpertratorâ€"in the courtigil’ing 0"idence- of lsrael, by the King of Israelâ€"a man! after God's own heart. Could the go tle- men of the jury be surprised at the polling discovery so recently made, as l p. i set) if great crimes in high places were im-i possible or new things under the Sanitplai‘11Y 1 ii to draw a touching plc- BC COHMECOUS' He did n3 ture of t ictim, the beautiful, young. stranger-girl, whom they all remembered f and lovedâ€"who had come, an angel off mercy. on a mission of mercy, shores. ins. her goodnessâ€"by which all there had at some time been blessedâ€"suit“- cient to save her from the knife of the assasin? Not as he should shortly prove. Yet all these years her innocent blood had cried to Heaven in vain; her \‘fate was unavenged, her manes unap- peased. All the women, and all the simple- ‘hearted and unworldiy among the men. were melted into tears, very unpropi- tious to the fate of Thurston; tears not called up by the eloquence of the prose- cuting attorney so much as by the mere allusion to the fate of Marian, once so beloved. and still so fresh in the mem- ories of all. Thurston heard all thisâ€"not in the second-hand style with which I have summed it upâ€"but in the firs vital freshness. when it was spoken with a logic, force, and fire that carried eon- viction to many a mind. Thurston looked upon the judgeâ€"his face was stern and grave. He looked upon the furyâ€"they were all strangers, from dis- tant parts of the courtly, drawn by idle curiosity to the scene of trial, and ar- riving quite unprejudiced. They were not "his “peers,” but, on the contrary, twelve as stolid-looking brothers as ever decided the scholar. .the crowd in the court-room. There were his parishioners! hoary natriarchs and gray-haired matrons, stately men and lovely women, who, from week to week. for many years, had still hung delighted on his dis- courses, as though his lips had been fate of‘a gentleman and‘ Thence he cast his eyes overt [0 theirihkil‘l'fln at: night. was not he,- beautya her genjthat upon the night of April 8th, 182â€", return they had frequently melâ€"-that the prisoner, with the treachery that. would soon be proved to be a part of his mature, had grown weary of his wife. and transferred his attentions to another and more fortune-favored lady â€"--and finally. that upon the evening of the murder he. had docoyed the unhappy young lady to the fatal spot, and then and there effected his purpose. The pros‘ccuting attorney made this State- ment, not with the brevity with which it is here reported, but with a minute- nesx of detail and warmth of coloring that narrowed up the hearts of all who heard it. ilc finished by saying that he should call the witnesses in the enter of time corresponding with the facts they came to prove. “Oliver Murray will take the stand." This, the first. witness called, after the usual oath, deposed that he had first seen the prisoner and the deceased to- gether in the Library of Congress; had overheard their conversation. and sus- pecting some unfairness on the partof the prisoner, had followed the parties to the navy yard, where he had wrt- nessed their marriage ceremony. “When was the 'next occasion upon which you saw the prisoner ‘2" “On the night of the Sth of April, 182â€". on the coast. near Pine Bluff. 1 had landed from a boat. and was going inland when I passed him. i did-not see his face distinctly, but recogniacd him by his size and form, and peculiar air and gait. He was hurrying away, with every mark of terror and agitation." This portion of Mr. Murray‘s testi- mony was so new to all as to excite the greatest degree of surprise, and in no bosom did it arouse more astonish- ment than in that of Thurston. The witness was strictly cross-questioned by the counsel for the prisoner, but the cross-examination failed to weaken his testimony, or to elicit anything more favorable to the accused. Oliver Murray was then directed to stand aside. The next witness was Miriam Shields. Deeply veiled and half fainting. the poor girl was led in between Colonel and Miss Thornton, and allowed to sit while When told '10 took at the prisoner at the bar, she raised tier death-like face. and a deep, gasping broke from her bosom. But. Thurston fixed his eyes kindly and en- couragingly upon herâ€"his lock said “Fear nothing, dear Miriam! Do your stern duty, and trust in Gor ." Miriam then identified the prisoner as the man she had twice seen alone with She further testified Marian had left her home late in the evening to keep an appointmentâ€"from which she had never returned. That in the pocket of the dress she had laid off was found the note appointing the meeting upon the beach for the night in question. Here the note was produced. Miriam identified the handwriting as that of Mr. Willcoxen. Paul Douglass was next called to the stand, and required to give his tosd- mony in regard to the handwriting. Paul looked at the piece of paper that was placed before him, and he was sorely tempted. How could he swear to the handwriting unless he had actually seen the hand write it? he asked him- self. He looked at his brother. Rut Thurston saw the struggle in his mind. and his countenance was stern and high. and his look authoritative and commandingâ€"it said: “Paul! do not dare to deceive yourself. You know the. handwriting. Speak the truth if it kills me.” And Paul did The next witness that took the stand was Dr. Brightweliâ€"thc good old phy- sician gave his evidence very reluctant- 1y-â€"â€"it went to prove the fact of the proâ€" soner‘s absence from the deathbed of his grandfather uponthe night of the reputed murder, and his distracted ap- pearance when returning late in the morning. “\\'hy do you say reputed murder ‘2" “lecause. sir, I never consider the fact of a murder established until the body of the victim has been found.” “You may stand down.” l'ir. Solomon ‘.\.‘-‘.ismann was next touched with fire, and all his words iii-,called to the stand. and corroborated the ,spiredl againl lations and the circumstances! they sat. with stern brows and averted faces, or downcast eyes, or “tips that scarce their scorn forbore." No eye. or tip among them responded kindly to his scorching gaze, and Thurston turned his face away again; for an in- stant his soul sunk under the pull of despair that fell darkening upon it. It was not. conviction in the court he thought ofâ€"he would probably be ac- quitted by the courtâ€"«but. what should acquit him in public opinion? The evi- dence that might not be strong enough to doom him to death would still be. sufficient to destroy forever his position and his usefulness. No eye. thence- torth. would meet his own in friendly ionfldence. No hand grasp his in bro- therly fellowship. The State‘s Attorney was still pro- ceeding with his speech. He was now stating the case, which he promised to prove by competent witnessesâ€"how the Erisoner at the bar had long pursued But oh! how different the re- is beautiful but hapless victim~how a had been united to her by a. private marriageâ€"that he had corresponded with her from Europeâ€"that upon his t There they were around him'testimony of the last witness. Several other witnesses were then 'f'here,catled in succession. whose testimony being only corroborative, was not vex-y important. And the prisoner was re» mended, and the court adjournnd “mil ten o’clock the next morning. “life. will be saved, but phonon and usefulness in this neighbrirlmoq mum forever, Paul,” said Thurston, as billo- went out. ‘9 “Evidence very strong-very comm. sive to our minds. yet not sufficient to convict him,“ said one gt‘lltimnun 10 another. ionâ€"that. the establishment of u mur- der needs a: a starting point the imam-.- of the body; and, moreover, that in: conviction of a murderer requires an eye-witness to the deed. The midence so far as we have heard it. is stront; enough to ruin the man. but not siren: enough to hang him," said a third. D “.~\y! but we have not heard all the most important part of live (Lani- mony. The Slate's .-\ttorney 1.:is not fired his great gun yet." said a fourth. a: the crowd elbow‘ed, pushed, and struggled out of the. courtroom. Those from distant parts or "he county tol‘ . “'IIO SAID “RA ‘5"? remained in the village all nightâ€"those nearer returned home to Come back in the. morning. The Second day of Hi.- trial, the vil- loge was more crowded than before. At ten o'clock the court opened, the. prisoner was shortly afterward brought in. and the prosecution renewed its ex- amination of witnesses. The next wit- nst that took the stand was a most. unpartant. our, John Miles, captain of the schooner Plover. lie. deposed that in the month of April 193â€", he was mate.’ in the schooner Blanch, of which his father was the captain, That in said month the prisoner at the bar had hired his father's vessel to carry off a lady whom the prisoner declared to be, his own wife; that they were to take her to the Bermudas. That to effect their ob- ject, his father and himself had landed near Pine Bluff; ilhe night was dark, yet he soon discerned the lady walking alone upon the beach. They were. bound to wait for the. arrival of the pri- soner. and a signal from him before approaching the lady. They waited some time, watching.r from their cowl" the lady as she paced impatiently up and down the sands. At. length they saw the prisoner approaching. lie was closely wrapped up in his cloak, and his ‘hat was pullerl‘over his eyes, but they recognized him well by his air and gait. They drew nearer still. keep- ing in the shadow, waiting for the sig- nal. The lady and the prisoner metâ€"n few words passed between thcm~â€"of which he, the deponenl, only heard “Thurston?” “Yes, 'l‘hurslonl” and then the prisoner raised his arm and struck, and the lady fell. His father was a cautious man. and when he saw the prisoner rush up the cliff and disap- pear, whcn he saw that the lady was dead. and that the storm was beginning to rage violently and the tide was com- ing in. and fearing, besides, that he, should get into trouble, he hurried into the boat and put off and boarded the schooner, and as soon as possible set sail for Bermuda. They had kept away from this coast for years, that is to say, as long as the father lived. .lolm Miles was cross-examined by Mr. Romford, but without effect. This testimony bore fatally upon the prisoner's causeâ€"the silence of con- sternation reigned through the crowd. Thurston \Villcoxen, when he heard this astonishing evidence, first thought that the witness was perjured, butwhen he looked closely upon his open, honest face, and fearless eye and free bearing, he saw that no consciousness of false- hood was ‘there and he could but grant that the witness. naturally deceived by “foregone conclusions,” had inevitably mistaken the. real murderer fer him- self. ' Darker and darker lowered the pall of fate over himâ€"the awful stillness of the court was oppressive, was suffoca~ ting; a deathly fainlness came upon him, for now, for the first Slime, he fully realized the awful doom that threatened him. Not long his nature bowed under the burdenâ€"his spirit rose to throw it off, and once more the fine head was proudly raised. nor did it once sink again. The last witness for the prosecution was now called and took the stand, and deposrd that he lived ten miles down the coast in an isolated, obscure place; that on the first of May, 182â€", the body of a woman haJ been found at low tide upon the beach, that it had the appearance of having been very long in the waterâ€"the cloth- ing was respectable, the dress was dark blue stuff, but was faded in spotsâ€" there was a ring on the finger, but the hand was so swollen that it could not be got off. llis poor neighbors of the coast assembled. They made an effort to get the coroner. but he could not be found. And the state of the body do- manded immediate burial. When cross- qucstionvd by Lawyer Romford, the witness said that they had not then heard of any missing or murdered lady, but had believed the body to be that of a shipwrecked passenger, until they heard of Miss Muylield‘s fate. ' Miriam was next recalled. She came in as before, supported between Colonel and Miss 'l’bornton. Everyone who saw the poor girl, said that she was dying. When examined, she deposed that Mar- ian, when she left home, had worn a blue merino dressâ€"and. yes. she always wore a little. locket ring on tier linger. Drooping and fainting as she was, Miriam was allowed to leave the court- room. This closed the evidence of the prosecution. The defense was taken up and con- “i am of holiest Dr, Brno -,. n - _;dueted with a great deal of skill. ’Mr. o H“ “5 Own ‘ltoinford enlarged upon the noble Char- aeler his client had ever maintained from childhood to the present timeâ€"â€" they all knew himâ€"be had been born and had ever lived among them~what man or woman of them all would have dared to suspect him of such a crime? 'lle spoke warmly of his truth, fidelity, iiiiristian zeal, benevolence. philan- tin‘wpv and great public benefits. (To be continued}. ._____+â€"__ He who is away from homo most of the time dodges a lot of ' trouble. titli.,»'.:;{; ++++++++++++++++++++++ E About the farm ’- +++++++++++++++++++++ BROOD SO\VS AND PIGS. Feed the sow lightly for a few days before and after farrowing. A purely. graurfed hog is never comfortable. The stomach and bowels must be rea- sonably distended by bulky food, given ,along with a nutritious ration. ’l‘urnips or roots of any kind are a valuable food for the sow during the winter. TIIOY produce an active condition and this is especially important for the brood sow. Do not keep her on a corn diet. (Lorri should form only a very small part, at t the most. of her ration. A small amount can be fed in conjunction with mid- dlings or bran to supply heat. The sow about to furrow must have a shallow bed of finely cut straw or chaff. Pigs are often caught in the hot- low of a deep bed or become tangled in the straw and are crushed by the ginother. It is well to place a fender in ’ + + + + + I + + the pigs against the wall. (,lare should be taken that the sow is not placed where there is much noise or excite- ment or she is liable to kill the pigs in trying to protect them. Do not keep the little pigs confined on a board floor. They will become crooked legged and deformed if thus treated. Let them run out. of doors on pleasant days. (jet them out. of the nest and make them run about, for if they (rlo not get exercise they will become too at. When feeding have a trough that is low enough for them to get their noses in and drink with the sow for in this way they will soon learn to get their own living. Do not place‘their corn in a trough. for they will eat too fast and will not chew it. It is better to scatter the grain around on the floor where they will have to pick it up and thus take more time. If pigs are fed in this way, they are getting about two-thirds of their living from the feed trough by the time they are old enough to wean, and instead of weaning being a revolution it will be an evolution. Wean the pigs when eight or ten weeks old. Place in a pen that is not close to the sow, for they will forget her sooner if they cannot hear her squeal- ing. Give extra care so as to avoid any check in growth. Give skim milk and middlings, a little at a time, and often, as the pigs have been used to taking their food at will. Do not feed the sow rich food until the milk flow has been checked. it 3 always best .10 rlet her depend on pas- ture and water-alone for food. And if given good pasture and plenty of fresh water she will soon regain her lost flesh and will need no extra-food. PUSIIING EARLY LAMBS. It is an excellent plan to have some small pens in or near the shed. As fast as the lambs come, they can be re- moved with the mother, to these pens, where they can be cared for much bet- ter than if compelled to remain with the flock. An old-fashioned teapot, with a round spent, on which one can put a rubber nipple, is convenient to carry milk from cows that have recently freshened, and feed the little lambs, as they seem to require more than they are getting from the mother. The teapot is also very convenient to set on the stove, or hold in hot water. to heat the. milk for immediate use. Care and attention must be given all the little details. Fix a little creep that the lambs can go through. As fast as they are large enough to take out of the pens and put with the flock with their mothers, they can be allowed to go into an adjoining pen, or room, where they can be fed some grain. Bran and fine middlings, that has been sweetened a little with granulated sugar, are excellent, As soon as they begin to eat, leave out the sugar and add oats to the other feeds. Feed only as much as they will out each half day and clean the trough each time before putting in a new sup- ply. Lambs are very fastidious and will not eat if there is the least bit of dirt in or near the feed. Put some clover hay where they can pick it over. Change that which has been picked over for it fresh supply often. MOItI‘I t '3 . the sow's stall so that she cannot crushi t THAN TIlItlit-L .. “\\ill you :in‘ th' Master tonne yi-r own e clock I do be batin' in the kitchen is fast." 1. l l .4 Continue to feed both lambs and ewes rain as long as they are retained in' the sheds. if a regular and reasonable supply of roots can be given the ewes‘ it will help them to give a larger- amount of milk and consequently push the lambs along faster. After the sheep are turned out to grass and are brought in at. night it. is a good plan to keep up the grain feeding. leaving out. the mid. lings. if necessary, and feed the bran and oats. If it is desirable to market the lambs early they can be crowded right along until they have attained the weights that the market. requires. To one who has not followed this practice the re. stills will be surprising. [know in. stances where lambs have gained a pound per day, after the, first month to the time of marketing. uâ€"o FINISHING STICf-IRS. After being fed all winter on dry, foods, which to a certain extent become monotonous to the fattening animal. steers will frequently eat. but little else when turned suddenly upon fresh pas- ture. Unless they are kept off the grass for all but brief periods during the first weeks, there. will be a checking of growth due to the fact that the succu- lent. grass has disnrdered the digestion of the animals. At the same time they, will consume more of the fresh palatable grass, and will not eat enough of strong nitrogenous or fat producing foods. This calls for careful regulation of the diet of ‘the growing steer when first put upon green pasture. They should be allowed enough palatable mixed feed to take the edge from their appetites, so they will not feed heavily upon the grass when turned out. It has been found that a good feed of mixed grain, early in the morning, followed by some dry roughage will serve this purpose best. If the steers are then turned upon the pasture they will not overfeed on the green forage. At this time the con- centrated meals and ground grains are not as good as properly mixed whole grains, for the reason that if these are fed in addition to the already extreme- ly laxative fresh grass, the animals will be checked in growth. A balanced ration cannot be said to be furnished by early spring grass alone. This early growth is largely succulent grass containing practically no nitrogen or any fat producing mat- ter. For this reason considerable corn with some dry alfalfa hay or some of the small grains, should form a part of the morning ration. The well mixed feed composed of grain, such as oats, barley, rye and corn. is, at this time, to be preferred above one formed chiefly of corn. PREPARING TEAMS FOR \VORK. Horses just taken up after a long rest do not need much grain at first, but {the quantity should be increased, little by little, as time advances and amount of labor increases. We should remember that the system is not in a condition to digest and assimilate much feed at first. but that the capabilities will increaso, gradually, as the system requires, to maintain it under the increased effort required to perform the extra amount of labor. Increase in capabilities in feeding and capabilities for labor can be developed slowly at the same time under judicious management; but a horse that has been idle any great. length of time cannot be transformed suddenly from the soft, flabby condi- tion to a hardened condition capable of sustained effort and endurance. The man who really has a love for his horses and seeks to give them a chance to perform ‘their part without injury to themselves, as well as in a manner that will be a profit to himself, will study their needs under varying conditions, as well as the character of each indivi- dual horse so as to be able to meet the different requirements as they present themselves. Such a man is alert, never allowing the harness to gall. or for lack of proper adjustment. He will not worry one horse. or put him to a disad- vantage beside the other. It is too often the case that the owner and driver of the horses need educating and training first. When failures and losses are met with, many find the man behind the ' team is responsible. ._.â€"â€"..â€"-+â€"-â€"-â€"â€" The Eagleâ€"l have one great advan- tage over you. I don’t need to keep dodging automobiles all the time. The Cmvâ€"No: but just. wait. till they get these airships going. MINl‘TES PART. 55;.» th' momin,’ plaza,