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January 21, 1893.

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No. 201, Srrowr & Suir, Publishers, NEW YORK. 3L Rose 8t., N. Y. P.O. Box 2784. (0 Cents,

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| | 9¥62-| ZL2h-| 67 4B

DICK HAWES’ TERRIBLE CRIME.

By WALTER L. HAWLEY.

CHAPTER I.
THE DISCOVERY OF A CRIME.
“Good heavens, Bill, look there!
What is that?”
“Where ?”
“There it is again
“That is the face of a dead body,

A SHEET OF FLAME BURST FROM THE WINDOWS AND ROOF OF THE BIG STONE} _. ey -
JAIL, AND THERE WAS A ROAR OF GUNS LIKE A PEAL OF THUNDER, Jim; pull the boat nearer -

4”?

 
2

THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY.

No. 201,

 

 

“Heavens, it’s a little girl !”

Two young men were rowing a boat across Lake Como,
a beautiful sheet of water and famous pleasure resort, near
Birmingham, oe , on Tuesday morning, December 4,
1888.

One of them suddenly Nourea his oar, and with a
trembling hand pointed to a white object floating in the
water some twenty feet away.

A second glance and both young men realized that they
had found a dead body floating in the lake.

It was the first time any person had been drowned
there, and both men were greatly excited.

A few strokes of the oars brought the boat ade: of
the floating body.

In the clear water the two men were able to ake out
the outlines of the body of a little girl. —

She was apparently not more than nine years old.

The white face was upturned at the surface of the lake.

The little hands were clasped over the breast, as if in
prayer or supplication.

The eyes of the dead girl were closed, and her wavy
black hair, tied back from the forehead with a faded blue
ribbon, was floating on top of the water.

“What shall we do, Bill?” asked the young man who
had first seen the body, after he had looked at itin
silence for several moments.

“We must take it ashore.”

The boat was pulled closer to the floating body, and one
of the men started to lift it in.

“Don’t do that, Jim. It will bring bad luck to the boat.
We can tow it to the bank.”

There was a rope in the bottom of the boat.

It was made fast around the body of the dead girl as
gently as possible, and then the men in the boat rowed to
the nearest landing.

There they lifted her from the water as gently as pos-
sible, and laid her on a plank on shore.

Several persons who were near-by hurried to the spot
when they saw the body taken from the water.

With white faces they gathered around the little form,
and looked closely at the white face.

’ The dress worn by the dead girl was low in the neck,
and on the tender throat the men who gathered around
saw five blue and black marks that had evidently been
made by the fingers of a strong man.

Then they knew a crime had been committed.

The little girl had been strangled to death, and then her
body was thrown into the lake.

From the position in which her hands were found it was
plain that she had been praying for her life when the
cruel fingers of the murderer closed on her throat and
stifled her voice forever.

She had died with her hands still clasped in the prayer
for mercy that had been in vain.

“Whois she?” the men present asked each other, in
whispers, as they looked around to see that no woman
came near.

Strong men that they were, none of them Le to be
present when a mother should recognize the dead child
and see the cruel finger-marks on the throat.

No one present knew the dead girl.

She was neatly. dressed, but all her clothing was of
cheap material.

A messenger was hurried away to the city to notify the

coroner, and then the news of the discovery of the cruel:

crime spread on the wings of the wind.

 

By the time the coroner arrived on the scene hundreds
of persons had come from the village near the lake to sat-
isfy their curiosity.

No one recognized it, and no little girl was iseine
from any of the homes in the village.

The coroner had the body removed to the city, believ-
ing that it would there be quickly recognized.

It was carried to the undertaker’s, and there laid ona
table in the front room, where all who cared to do so
could come and look at the face of the murdered child.

By this time the news of the discovery of the crime had
spread all over the city.

In a short time the public sshools of the city were out
for the day. aay

Then thousands of school-chiJdren came and looked at
the face of the dead girl, each one fearing they would
recognize the face of some loved playmate.

But one and all turned away with tears or shudders of
fright at the cruel fate of the little stranger.

Long before nightfall public interest in the victim of
the unknown strangler had become intense.

No little girl had been reported missing, and every one
was wondering who the murdered girl was. 2

All the afternoon and far into the night a steady stream
of men and women poured in and out of the room where
the dead girl lay, but none of them recognized her.

That night the body was embalmed and placed in a neat
casket with the face uncovered.

On the following day thousands of persons came and
looked at the body, but still it was not identified.

The next morning two negro women entered the place.

They glanced at the face of the dead girl, and at once
one of them exclaimed :

“Why, that is little May Hawes!”

“Who was May Hawes?” asked the coroner, who was
present.

The woman told what she knew of the dead girl and oo
parents.

The dead child was the daughter of Dick Hawes, an en-
gineer.

He was employed on one of the roads running into the
city.

His wife and three children lived in a small cottage in
the suburbs of the city.

May, the dead girl, was the oldest of the three children.

She was nine years old.

The others were Irene, seven, and Willie, five aa
old.

Hawes and his wife, it was known in the neighborhood,
did not live happily together.

He rarely visited his family, and gave them barely
enough money for their support.

That was all the negro woman, who had _ identified ‘the
dead girl, knew of the family. The coroner took her name
and address and allowed her to go.

Then he went out to the Hawes cottage to tell the
mother of the sad fate of her child.

When he got there he found the cottage deserted.

The doors were locked and the windows barred, but —
through the blinds he could see that the house was empty.

The furniture had all been removed and the place was
deserted.

The coroner summoned policemen, and they broke into
the house.

In two of the rooms they found a small atvantity of
broken furniture and a little torn bedding.

4

 
No. 201.

THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY. ve i | 3

 

 

In another room they found evidence of a eer ate |
struggle, a struggle for life.

There were blood stains on the walls and pools of dried
bload on the floor.

In one corner of the room lay a large club stained with
blood.

Several locks of a woman’s hair were found on the
floor.

A great crime had been discovered, and the mystery of
it was growing deeper.

CHAPTER II.
THE TRAIL OF BLOOD.

‘Where is Dick Hawes?”

The question was on the lips of ten thousand men and
women.

No one could answer it.

The engineer had disappeared, vanished completely
from the sight of those who knew him.

His child had been murdered. Surely he would come
when he heard the terrible news, but the hours passed and
he came not.

Where was the mother of the dead girl ?

She, too, had disappeared.

Within an hour after the discovery that the Hawes cot-
tage was deserted and that one of its rooms ‘was stained
with blood ascore of detectives were at work trying to
find some trace of the other members of the family and at
the same time learn how little May was killed.

There were few clews to work on, but the officers
worked as they had never done before.

Policemen and sheriff’s deputies were put on the case.

Private detectives followed every possible clew without
hope of pay or reward.

A crowd of detectives soon gathered at the cottage, and
the place was gone over carefully.

In a short time one of the men found a place in the yard
where the soft ground showed traces of some heavy object
having been dragged over it.

He followed this to the back fence.

He found there that three planks had been broken off

the fence, leaving an opening large enough for a man to
pass through.

Looking closely at the planks around this hole in the
fence he found blood stains.

On.the ground outside were more blood stains.

The detectives had found a trail of blood.

It led across a back street and into a big vacant lot,
which was fenced.

An opening was found in the fence, and there the trail
of blood was found again.

It was easily followed across the lot and through
the fence on the other side.

There every trace vanished.

The ground for many blocks around was gone over
carefully, but without success.

If a murder had been committed there the murderer had
begun to cover his tracks, and he had done it well.

A few hundred yards back of the vacant lot behind the
cottage there was a small private park containing a pretty
artiticial lake.

It was miles away from where the body of May Hawes

was found, but > the detectives had by this time scented
oo not crime.

 

rivate park was hurriedly |

dragged, but the grappling irons brought nodaee to the
surface. |

Then the. detectives looked in other directions.

The Hawes family had formerly lived in Atlanta.

They had relatives and friends there.

Telegrams were sent to that city asking about them, but
no: news was obtained.

These friends had not seen or heard from them for some
time, but the movements of Dick Hawes were traced up
to Saturday night before the finding of the body of his
child.

Then his trail was lost as suddenly and completely for
a time as was the trail of blood.

The Hawes mystery, as it was now called, deepened at
every move made by the detectives.

Then they went back to the cottage in search of some
other clew.

The cottage had been left unguarded during their
absence.

When they went back to search it a second time they
found that some one had been there during their absence,
and that every blood stain on the floor and walls, every
trace of a crime, had been removed. i

The floor and walls had been scoured, and the house
hurriedly but thoroughly cleaned.

Some one interested in concealing all evidence of crime
had been there while the detectives were gone.

They cursed their stupidity for not leaving some one to
watch the house, and then they went to work anew, de-
termined that the mystery should be unraveled. \

As the search went on new and te facts came to
light in rapid succession.

A woman who came to look at the face of the dead child
asked why some one did not see Fannie Bryant.

‘““Who is Fannie Bryant?” asked the coroner.

“She knew Mrs. Hawes and the children. She worked
there sometimes, and was a friend of the family.”

Fannie Bryant was sent for at once.

When the coroner looked at the woman something told
him that he had an important witness, who might throw
much light on the mystery if she would.

She was not over intelligent, had a hard, cruel face, but
it was evident that she had plenty of cunning, and having
heard of the finding of the body of May Hawes was not
surprised when she was sent for.

“Did you know Dick Hawes?” asked the coroner.

“Yes.”

‘““And his wife and children ?”

ee Yes. 99

“Where are they now ?”

“T don’t know.”

“When did you see them last?”

‘‘IT saw Mrs. Hawes last Saturday. I saw Mr, Hawes and
little May on Monday evening.”

“Where did you see them 2?”

“At my house. I live close to them.”

“What were they doing at your house ?”

‘‘Mr. Hawes left May there on Sunday after he sent his
wife and the other children away. He came back for her
on Monday evening, and took her away.”

“Did he send his wife away ?”
Ves.”

6s W,hen Or

“On Saturday night.”
“Where did he send her?”
“T don’t know.”

 
4 . THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY.

 

 

“Where did he take little May ?”

~“T don’t know.” :

“Had vou heard Mrs. Hawes speak of going away ?”

“Yes. She said her husband was going to send her to
her folks, and they were not going to live together again.”

‘Do you know where she went?”

a No. 39,

“Have you been to the Hawes cottage this week, and
do you know what left the trail of blood through the yard
there ?”

The woman winced at the question.

“What trail of blood ?”

“The one from the Hawes cottage.”

“T don’t know anything about it.”

“Have you any idea who killed May Hawes ?”

“T don’t know.”

“ Where did Hawes say he was going to take the girl ?”

“He did not say.”

“Ts that all you know about the case?”

“Yes,”

The coroner knew from the manner of the woman that
she was not telling the truth.

She had plenty of nerve and cunning, but the mention
of the trail of blood had startled her.

- She knew more of the Hawes mystery than she had
told.

“T ghall hold you as a witness,”
quietly.

The woman turned pale.

“T have not done anything.”

‘‘T know you have not, but you are an important wit-

ness in this ease, and I shall send you to jail for safe
keeping.”
The woman bit her lip, but said nothing more.

The coroner made out the papers and committed her to,

said the coroner,

jail as a witness in the vase of the inquest into the death |

of May Hawes.

Then the detectives divided up the work of trying to
solve the mystery.

One half of them set out to nd Dick Hawes.

They had already traced him up to Monday night,
learning that he left the city late that night or early Tues-
day morning.

Of his movements from Saturday to Monday night they
had been unable to find any trace.

While a score of men were trying to locate Dick Hawes,
another score went back to the cottage where he had
lived, and there took up the bloody trail again, this time
with.startling results.

CHAPTER III.
A BRIDAL TOUR INTERRUPTED.

“Dick Hawes, you are my prisoner !”

“ What do you mean ?”

“That I arrest you for murder !”

“You have a warrant?”

“Veg, 29

“Whom have I murdered ?”

“You are charged in the warrant with the murder of
one of your children.”

“One of my children?”

“Yes.”

‘(Which one ?”

$6 a i iQ oj

 

 

“It’s May, is it, they charge me with killing?”

66 Ves: 29

‘Well, if you have a warrant I suppose I shall have to
go with you. My dear——”

But the prisoner’s words were cut short by a scream
from the young woman who sat at his side, who fell over
in a dead faint.

The scene was on a crowded car of an east bound pas-
senger train at Birmingham.

The woman who sat by the side of. Dick Hawes wore a
neat traveling dress, and there was about her the unmis-
takable air of a young bride starting on a wedding jour-
ney.

Such was indeed the fact.

Dick Hawes and Mays Storey, a pretty girl, nineteen
years old, had been married five hours before at the home
of the bride in Columbus, Miss., and had started on a
wedding tour to the Kast.

But the wedding tour had been cut short by a startling
interruption.

At Birmingham a deputy sheriff. got aboard the train
with a warrant for the arrest of Dick Hawes for the mur-
der of his little girl, whose igs had been found ee
in the lake two days before.

Then the bride’s dream of happiness had a rude awak-
ening.

She heard the words of the officer, and when she real-
ized that her husband was a prisoner, charged with the
murder of his own child, she fainted away.

Dick Hawes did not lose his composure or his presence
of mind for a moment.

His coolness was something wonderful, and it made the
a believe that a terrible mistake had been made and
that matters were getting muddled instead of cleared up.

The prisoner turned his attention to his bride, and as
gently as possible tried to revive her.

In a few moments she regained consciousness,
looked about her in a dazed sort of way.

The words prisoner and murder were ringing in her
ears.

and

She clung to her husband, believing that he was the vic-
tim of some horrible joke or blunder, while as gently as.
possible Dick Hawes removed the arms of his bride from
about his neck.

Then he called to a friend who was on the car, and
asked him to take his wife to a hotel, see that she got a
good room, and do what he could for her for a time, and
then turning to his bride of a few hours he 7 very

| quietly :

“My dear, there is a dreadful mistake, and I will have
to go with this man and explain it. Don’t be frightened.
I will have to leave you for a little while, but I will soon
come back. My fr ee here will take you to a hotel, and
I will join you there.’

His calm, confident manner reassured his bride, and
without really knowing what had happened she went
away with her husband’s friend without another word.

Then Hawes turned to the officer who had the warrant.

“Tam ready. Where do we go?”

“To the jail !”

The prisoner turned a trifle pale.

“Tg it necessary to go to the jail? I can explain this.
You may be sure a mistake has been aoe

“To the ie are my orders.”

“ Whe the Where is May?” _

 
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o

 

 

‘Her body is at the paderiakon S.
it?”

‘Not to-night. Go on to the jail, and give me a chance
to explain, so I can get back to my wife.”

The officer and his prisoner entered a cab, and were
driven to the county jail.

Do! you want to see

There the prisoner was taken into the jailer’s office and
questioned closely by the sheriff.

His manner was cool, and he readily answered every
question put to him with evident frankness.

He appeared to take his arrest as an embarrassing mis-
take that would soon be set right.

A small crowd had gathered in the office, and as they
looked at the prisoner and heard him talk nearly every
one was convinced that he was innocent of the terrible
crime with which he was charged.

Dick Dawes was a handsome man, and his manner was
that of a well-bred gentleman.

He was well built, apparently thirty-five years old, his
face was rather open and frank, except for the deep-set
eyes, which never betrayed feeling of any kind as the
man talked, and his voice was soft and well modulated.

If there were any cruel lines about it they were effectu-
ally concealed by a long drooping brown mustache.

It seemed impossible that a man of his appearance
could cruelly strangle his own child and then within four
days wed an innocent and trusting young woman.

Ina Ste manner he told the story of his
life.

He said he had had a wife and three children, two girls
and a boy.

He did not live happily with his wife, because she was
too fond of the society of other men.

He had got a divorce from her several months before,
and she had agreed to take the two girls and go to live
with relatives in Rochester, N. Y.

His boy he had sent to the home of his brother in
Atlanta, and the brother had agreed to take care of him.

On Saturday before his wedding and his arrest he had|
gone out to the house where his wife lived, and had given,
her $500 in money, and had said good-by to his children.

His wife had agreed to start for Rochester that night.

Then he accounted for his movements during Saturday
night, Sunday, and Sunday night, which had puzzled the
detectives so much.

He said he had been out with Dag Gordon, a friend,
until two o’clock Saturday night, and had then gone out
to the cottage and slept there until the next afternoon.

fle found the house deserted, he said, and supposed his
- wife and children had started on their journey.

Sunday afternoon he had gone out to dinner, and had
then spent the night at the cottage.

Monday he sold the furniture to a second-hand dealer,
spent the afternoon and. evening with some friends, and
early on Tuesday morning started for the home of the
woman he was to marry on Thursday.

He told this story in a manner that convinced many of
his hearers of the truth of it.

No amount of cross-questioning could confuse him. or
cause him to change the story in any way.

It was a story much of which would be difficult to con-
firm or | eee but no one thought of that at the!
time.

one he ppg the actions of the

that he had strangled his little girl and throws her boas i in
the lake.

He did not ask any particulars of her death or the find-
ing of the body, and while he was charged with the mur-
der of the child he appeared entirely indifferent to her
fate, and expressed no desire to see her body ; in fact, did
not even ask the nature of the evidence against him or the
names of his accusers.

When he had finished his story and had answered all
the questions asked him he turned to the sheriff with an
inquiring glance, and said :

‘“T suppose I may go now.”

“Not to-night,” said the sheriff. “I shall be compelled
to lock you up until this matter is investigated further.”

A shade of annoyance passed over the face of the
prisoner, but he said nothing, and made no objection to
being locked up for the night.

He asked no favors except to be allowed to write and
send a note to his bride, which was granted, and he was
then locked in an iron cell.

When the door closed behind him the sheriff was of the
opinion that only another link had been added to ‘the
chain of mystery around the Hawes case.

The detectives on the case were all at sea.

The only evidence on which Hawes had been arrested

‘charged with the murder of his child was the fact that so

far as the detectives could learn he was the last person
who had seen her alive, and they had disappeared to-
gether, according to the statement of the woman, Fannie
Bryant.

The fact that the prisoner had married when he had,
or was supposed to have had a wife, was accepted as furn-
ishing a probable motive for the crime, but the detectives
were making slow progress in working out the case.

They had not even found Dick Hawes.

Chance and the newspapers had helped them there.

While they were following all sorts of improbable clews_
and trying to find the lost trail of the engineer a dispatch
was received by a Birmingham paper stating that Dick

| Hawes and Mays Storey were married in Columbus, Miss.,

that afternoon, and that they had started East on a wcd-
ding tour.

The correspondent who sent the dispatch knew nothing
of the identification of the dead girl in Birmingham and
the horrible suspicion against Dick Hawes, so he sent a
pretty story of the wedding.

The dispatch was shown to the sheriff, and in that way
Dick Hawes was feund and arrested on the charge of
murder so soon after his wedding.

With the arrest of Hawes the detectives renewed their
efforts to solve the terrible mystery.

They knew they had a weak case against him so far,
and could not hold him long unless they could get more
evidence.

The matter of most importance now was to find the
missing Mrs. Hawes and the other child.

Telegrams were sent all over the country wherever it
was believed they could have gone, or would likely be
heard of, but no trace of them could be found.

All this time the body of the dead girl was lying at the

 

\undertaker’s with the black marks left by the fingers of

the Strangler still on her throat, and public interest in the
case had by this time been aroused to fever heat.

Scores of citizens turned detectives for a time, and en-
deavored in vain to unravel the ty,

|
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THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY.

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sult, and each time the detectives were compelled to go
back to the Hawes cottage and the trail of blood and begin
the search all over again,

CHAPTER IV.
‘THE WATERS GIVE UP THEIR DEAD.

Detective Robbins led the second search of the lake for
further evidence of the terrible work of the Strangler.

He was assisted by half a dozen trusty men.

They went to work early on Saturday morning, and
dividing the lake into sections they began to go over it
slowly and carefully.

With long, sharp grappling irons they dragged every
inch of the bottom as they went.

It was nearly noon before their search was rewarded.

Detective Robbins was then near the center of the lake
where the water was some twenty feet deep, when pulling
his hooks slowly along the bottom he suddenly felt them
catch fast in some heavy object.

He told the man who was rowing to stop and lend a
_ hand to pull up the hooks. :

Whatever the object was that had been caught by the
grappling irons it was so heavy that it took the united
strength of the two men to pull it up.

Slowly and carefully they pulled on the line until they
finally brought to view the bloated face and flowing hair
of a dead woman.

Both men were intensely excited for the moment, and
the boatman letting the rope slip from his hands for an
instant the grappling hooks were loosened, and the body
sank to the bottom like a shot. It was soon grappled
again, however, and this time was carefully pulled up
clear of the bottom, and then the detective told the boat-
man to pull the boat to the shore.

There the detective got assistance, and in a few minutes
his ghastly find was laid on the bank.

Then he saw why it had been so hard to pull the body
from the bottom of the lake.

It had been weighted down with heavy irons.

Iron bars were securely tied about the neck, waist, and
feet of the dead woman.

A single glance was enough to show that the second vic-
tim of the Strangler had been found.

Around her throat were the blue and black marks of the
strong fingers that had strangled her to death, but in this
case the strangler had made doubly sure of his horrible

_ work, for the dead woman’s head had been crushed by a
blow with some heavy blunt instrument.

The news of the horrible tind spread through the city on
the wings of the wind.

Men and women by hundreds and thousands hurried
out to the lake to see the body.

Every one suspected whose body if was, and in a short
time their suspicions were confirmed.

It was the body of Mrs. Hawes.

The bloody trail from the cottage had been run down at
last.

In almost as short a time as it takes to tell it the citi-
zens of the town had jumped at one conclusion.

In their minds they had solved the Hawes mystery.

Dick Hawes himself had strangled his wife and child in
order to marry a young girl.

. The public as yet had little evidence to prove their con-

nen

 

 

clusion, but it was plausible, and in the excitement of the
moment they did not wait for eviaence.

Already they were clamoring for the "blood of the man
they believed to be the Strangler.

The detectives who had worked on the case from the
start knew that the mystery had only deepened, but the
public would not listen to their theories. ©

They also suspected that Dick Hawes was the strangler,
but they had no evidence to prove it.

They had not yet been able to disprove Dick Hawes’
statement of his movements from’ Saturday night until]
Monday night, which was a point in his favor.

A stronger point, however, was’ that while he was in
Columbus, 150 miles away, where he had gone to get mar-
ried, some one had entered the cottage and washed away
the stains of blood.

That proved that some one besides Hawes was inter-
ested in concealing all evidence of crime.

Who was this mysterious person? Was it not the real:
Strangler ?

These were questions the detectives asked one another,
and none of them could answer.

What motive could any one else have for committing
such a crime? ¢

The detectives remembered that Hawes had said he
gave his wife $500 in money.

No money was found on the body, and robbery might
have been the motive for the murder of the woman, and
then the girl killed because she knew too much. :

There was one other point in the prisoner’s favor.

If he had been divorced from his wife as he said, he
was free to marry again without resorting to murder.

Hawes had stated that he spent most of Saturday night
in the company of his friend Dag Gordon.

He was ‘an important witness, and the detectives now
set out to find him.

Gordon was an engineer, and had been ombloved on the
same road as Hawes, though when the detectives went to
look for him he could not be found.

He had disappeared as suddenly and spin eet as if.
the earth had opened and swallowed him.

His movements were traced up to the evening he was
supposed to have been with Hawes.

Then all trace of him was lost.

For a time the detectives were all but useless.

But while they hunted in hot haste for new clews excit-
ing scenes were going on in the town.

The public knew that two horrible. murders had been
committed.

A woman and a little girl had been strangled to death.

It was a kind of murder until then unknown in that
place. ,

The public knew that Dick Hawes, the husband and

father of the victims offthe Strangler, was in jail charged

with the crime, who, while the bodies of his wife and child
were rotting in the waters of the lakes, had gone off and
married again. I
That was enough to condemn him in their judgment,
and all the circumstantial evidence in his favor was lost
sight of for a time.
The public wanted the murders avenged, and they
wanted a victim, openly talking of lynching Dick Hawes.
They wanted action, and were in no mood to yield to
the law’s delays.
When the crowds on the streets hed ae toa howling, a
shouting mob, late in the afternoon, the sheriff realized |

  
  

 

 

 

     
 
  

 
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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No. 203.

THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY

7

 

 

 

the danger and prepared for action, for he was determined

to defend his prisoner at all hazards, and give his de-

tectives time to complete their work.

CHAPTER V.
THE STORMING OF THE JAIL.

The sheriff’s preparations to defend the jail were made
none too soon.

Saturday, December 8, 1888, was a day that will not
goon be forgotten in Birmingham. Scenes of blood were

enacted there that day and night that made strong men

shudder when the terrible excitement had passed away.

Ag soon as the news of the finding of the body of Mrs.
Hawes had spread over the city a crowd began to collect
in front of the undertaker’s, where it was supposed the

- body would be carried by the coroner.
It was early in the afternoon, but in an hour it num--

bered thousands, and in two hours the streets for blocks
around were packed with a dense mass of humanity, all

struggling to get nearer in the hope of cerreLns a glimpse
of the body.

The coroner learned of the presence of the crowd in
time, and decided not to take the body into the city.

The crowd was patient for a long time, but finally it got
restless, and the bolder of the men there openly voiced
the sentiments of all when they began to talk of lynching
Dick Hawes.

When night came on the crowd had only been thinned
by the departure of the women and children, for the men
remained behind.

The failure to bring the body of the murdered woman
into the city only increased the excitement of the crowd.

Nine men of every ten had jumped at the conclusion
that Hawes had killed his wife and child.

They had no time to follow clews and work out theories
as the detectives were doing.

In fact, they were in no humor then to reason the case
at all.

They felt sure that Dick Hawes was the Strangler, and
they wanted to hang him.

Men talked of lynching him in whispers, at first, but
when they found that all who heard them talk were in
sympathy with them they grew bolder, and were soon
shouting aloud for the blood of the prisoner.

The crowd scattered a little, only to come together
again around a fountain at one of the principal street
erossings.

There the threats of lynching the prisoner were made
openly, and volunteers were called for.

Then the officers and a few good citizens realized the
danger of the situation, and tried to reason with the
crowd.

But the men gathered there would not listen to reason.

They wanted to avenge the crimes of the strangler.

The police arrested one man for making an inflamma-
tory speech to the crowd.

In a moment they were surrounded and their prisoner

Suken from them by force.

The small force of police was entirely powerless to do
anything in opposition to the wishes of this crowd, which
was now fast becoming a howling mob.

- The only thing they could do was to get out of the way,
for their presence seemed to anger the cr rowd, and that
they did quickly and in good order, after the mayor had

 

 

made a speech to the crowd and urged them not to at-
tempt to lynch Dick Hawes. ea

He warned them that the jail was strongly guarded and 5
that the prisoner would be protected at all hazards.

But the crowd only laughed and jeered at his words.

Finding they could not reason with the mob the men
who were determined that there should be no lynching
hastened to prepare for the conflict which they knew must
ccme before morning.

Sixty tried and true men were sworn in as special
officers.

The chief of police went to the jail i a score of good
men.

Altogether the pheuia had about one hundred under his
command, and with these he felt that he could hold the
jail against any mob that could be organized.

All the men were armed with repeating rifles and pis- |
: tols.

They were stationed inside the jail at every window
and door, and « number were placed on the roof where
they were protected by barricades.

Every approach to the jail was covered by the rifles of
the guards.

Inside the jail hundreds of boxes of cartridges were.
stored, and there was also a good stock of food and water
in the event of a siege.

Preparations were made only for a winning fight.

No line of retreat was left open in the event a mob
should be successful in getting into the jail.

Sheriff Smith was determined that the fight, if there
was one, should end in the defeat of the mob, no matter
how many lives it cost.

Every man inside the jail knew how to handle a gun,
and many of them had been through scenes that tried
men’s courage before.

But the faces that could be seen through the iron barred
windows in the walls of the jail were pale and anxious
that night.

Nearly every man on duty there to protect the jail knew
that if a mob came there would be in its ranks some of
their friends and perhaps some near and dear relatives.

Yet each one of them had sworn to do his duty and obey
the orders of the sheriff even if that order was to shoot
their dearest friend, and they were the kind of men who
would keep the oath without flinching.

A few guards were sent out to establish lines around
the jai) a block away and allow no one to pass.

These guards were told to hold their line as long as pos- !
sible, but not to use force, and if hard pressed to fall back
to the jail in time.

Then the men inside sat down to await the coming of
the mob.

It was difficult to get reliable news of what was going
on outside, but the shouts they could hear from time to
time were a sufficient warning to the officers.

It was near eleven o’clock before a direct movement on
the jail began. .

The waiting officers at that time heard a prolonged yell
far down the street, and then they knew that the mob was
coming.

They gripped their rifles a little closer, and every man
stepped to the place assigned to him, and awaited orders.

The yells on the streets were heard plainer and plainer
every instant.

The mob was moving at a ively. pace, and ee were
Hee straight to the jail.

  

     
   
Go none.

 

8

The sheriff and his men did not know it, but it was a
wild and unruly crowd, without a leader, and wanted
“The men who were in front were most of them too
drunk by this time to fully realize what they were doing.
_ The great crowd had grown tired ane ree of de-
ies,

When some one yelled, “On to the jail!” the crowd fell
in, and followed blindly the lead of the drunken men in
front.

Once started through the streets those in front were
pressed on by those behind until they were unable to turn
_ back if they had so desired. >
A few good men were trying to reason with those in

front, but no one stopped to listen to reason then.
- The outer line of guards was soon reached, and there
the mob halted for a few moments at sight of the guns.

The mayor took advantage of this halt to make another
speech, urging the men to go home, but they only laughed
at him.

While the mayor was talking the armed guards got
back inside the jail and took up positions.

“Blow up the jail!”

“ They won’t shoot!”

“Lynch Dick Hawes !”

“Tynch the strangler !”

These were the cries of the mob as they pressed for-
ward.

No man in the mob believed that the officers inside the
jail would shoot to kill in order to save the neck of Dick
Hawes, and, in fact, the mob did not know how strongly
the jail was guarded.

It was this ignorance that made them reckless.

They had no axes or other tools with which to break
into the jail, and they had no rope.

No one appeared to have thought of small details like
those.

Every one apparently believed that in some way they
would walk right into the jail, take Dick Hawes out, and
hang him.

There was no moon that night.

In the dim light of the street lamps the thousands of
men moving steadily down the street toward the jail ap-
peared to be almost a solid mass of humanity with here
and there a face outlined.

The shouting was kept up until they were within one
hundred feet of the jail door.

Then quiet reigned, for every one realized that it was
gerious business in which they proposed to engage.

Sheriff Smith had cauticned his men to keep cool and
not to fire until he gave the order.

'He had also told them that if they were ordered to shoot
to fire low.

The jail must be protected, and when the order to fire
came there would be no time for halfway measures.

The sheriff stood on the front steps of the jail.

He held a repeating rifle in his hand.

Except for an occasional word of caution to his men the
sheriff watched the approach of the mob in silence until
the head of it was within one hundred feet of the jail

door.

- Then they caught sight of him, and set up a yell for

him to get the keys out.
The sheriff waved his hand for silence.

THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY.

    
   

No. 201.

There was a slight checking up of the forward move:
ment. ‘

‘““The jail is well guarded, and you cannot eet Dick
Hawes,” said the sheriff.

The crowd jeered him.

“Your men won't shoot us,” they shouted back at him.
‘There are no bullets in their guns. You can’t scare us
with a little powder.”

“Keep back, men! Keep back!” shouted the sheriff, as
the mob was again pushed forward by the moans of those
in the rear.

“Come ten feet nearer, and I shall give the order to
fire !”

The sheriff moved toward the open door leading to the
office of the jailer as he spoke.

The crowd pressed forward slowly.

Ge Halt! 999

The command was clear and sharp.

Every man in the mob heard 1t, but they laughed and
jeered, and still pressed on.

“When I count three I shall give the order to fire if you
do not fal! back !” said the sheriff, quietly.

The mob was still coming nearer.

ce One ie

6e Two 12

“Three !”

eWire 2)

Like a flash of lightning from a black cloud a sheet of
flame burst from the doors, windows, and roof of the big
stone jail, and there was a roar of guns like a peal of
thunder.

For one instant the mob stood still.

They did not in that instant realize what had happened.

Then there was another blaze of fire as the sheriff’s men
fired a second volley.

By the light of this deadly fire the men in the mob saw
their companions falling around them.

Above the roar of the guns they heard the screams of
the wounded and dying and the: whistle of the flying
bullets.

Then they knew that the sheriff’s men had shot ‘6 kill,
and that their guns were loaded with balls.

CHAPTER VI.
TROOPS TO THE RESCUE.

As soon as the members of the mob outside the jail
fully realized that the guards were shooting to kill they
turned and fled like so many frightened animals, every
man thinking only of his own safety.

There was no attempt to return the fire except a few
scattering shots, and Dick Hawes was forgotten for a
time.

Many men were knocked down and trampled under foot
during the mad scramble for safety, and hundreds of
those who had been in the front ranks of the mob did not
stop running until they were several blocks from the jail.

As soon as the guards stopped firing they could hear the
groans of the wounded, and by the dim light of the street
lamps they could see many dark forms lying in the streets
where the mob had been a few moments before.

When the mob had got well away and the sheriff knew
they would not come back for a while, he took some of his —
men and went out to look after the wounded.

 

Tn a clear voice he ordered the mob to halt.

  

Relatives and friends of thoge who were missing hur-

 
  

 

 
 
  
 
       
     
      
    
        
      
  

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- ried back to the scene as quickly as possible, and under a

flag of truce they were allowed to help remove the killed
and wounded.

The police came with ambulances, and in a short time
all the wounded that were able to be moved had been
taken to the hospital, while the others were carried into
the nearest houses.

Nine men had been killed outright and two others were
so badly wounded they died in a short time.

The wounded numbered more than twenty, but most of
them were not seriously hurt.

After the work of removing the dead and wounded was
accomplished the officers returned to the jail, and the
streets in the vicinity were cleared for a short time.

But reaction set in quickly in the broken ranks of the

“mob, and then men became wild with anger and excite-

ment, although their anger was now against the sheriff.

For a time they forgot all about Dick Hawes, and swore
to avenge the death of their friends. \

It was long past midnight by this time, but the streets
were filled with angry men.

In fact, few men in the town had gone to their homes
that night, and those who had came down again when
they heard the shooting at the jail.

Public opinion divided quickly, and the majority were.

against the sheriff, yet a few men believed he had only
done his duty, and they got together to see if they could
‘devise a way to prevent further bloodshed.

The mob was getting together again on the streets, and
hundreds of men were swearing that they would blow up
the jail and every man inside of it with dynamite, some
even going so far as to try to get the explosive with which
to carry out their threat.

In a very short time it was evident that a second and
more determined mob was preparing to move on the jail
before daylight, and that if they did the loss of life would
be heavy.

A number of cool-headed men who saw what was com-
ing went to the jail and informed the sheriff of the situa-
tion, and urgeu him to call out the military companies, of
which there were three in the town, and the sheriff, act-
ing on the advice of his friends, asked them to come to
his assistance and keep the mob from again approaching
the jail.

The officers of the military had expected the call all
night, and they had their companies ready to turn out
within an hour.

Many telegrams were also sent to the governor inform-
ing him of the situation, and asking him to send more
troops to the scene as quickly as possible.

The mob had not got fully organized when the three
local companies marched to the jail, with loaded guns,
and eacn man zarried forty rounds of ammunition.

A curious crowd ‘had begun to collect in the streets near

the jail when the military arrived. +
This crowd was driven back at the point of the bayonet,

‘and a few hours later Colonel Jones had his full regiment,
lincluding two batteries of artillery with eight Gatling
‘guns, which were placed “in position where they would
command every approach to the jail.

Then the military lines were advanced two blocks in all”

| directions and greatly strengthened, while the remainder

|
1

‘around the jail.
were extended to the governor, Colonel Jones, and his en-
‘tire force, and as a consequence no Man was allowed to
-pass the lines of troops without a written order signed
by the commandant.

It was Sunday when the troops came to town, aod the
entire male population of the place was on the streets, as
well as many women.

Some of the latter were in the thick of the mob element,
urging the men to avenge those whq had been killed and
wounded the night before.

Dick Hawes was now almost entirely forgotten by the
mob.
There was no longer any talk of lynching him. It was
the sheriff.4nd his men the mob wanted to lynch now.

all day, but it had no effect on the feelings of the crowd
on the streets.

There was no actual demonstration on the part of the
mob element until late in the afternoon, when a dense
crowd began to collect in one of the streets where the mil-
itary line was weakest.

They made all sorts of threats, and cursed and jeered at
‘the troops, but for a time were content with that.

Finally they began to close in on the thin line of guards.

The young soldiers suddenly found themselves so closely
pressed they were unable to use their guns or bayonets to
keep the crowd back of the line.

Then the crow4 behind began to press up, and the sol-
diers were being slowly pressed back, unable to stay the
advance of the mob.

Colonel Jones was informed of the situation, and he
hurried to the scene, the mob jeering at him as he ap-
| proached.

; The colonel took in the situation at a glance, and
ordered the Montgomery Greys, the crack company of the
lregiment, brought up at a double quick.

‘As soon as he saw them coming he ordered the line of
‘guards to fall in the rear of the company.

The Greys were then formed in two ranks extending
clear across the street.

While those movements were being executed the crowd
was yelling and pressing slowly forward.

Occasionally a stone or otber missile was thrown at the
soldiers, but no serious damage was done. .

When the Greys were ready for action Colonel Jones

 

 

and the troops formed in double ranks across all streets!turned and faced the mob, and in a ringing voice he

leading to the jail.

These lines were formed a block from the jail, and it
was agreed between the military and the sheriff that if

ordered them to disperse at once and clear the street.
A shout of derision was the answer.
“Tl give you three minutes to disperse,” said Col-

the latter was attacked and hard pressed they were to fall| onel Jones, taking his watch from his pocket.

back into the jail-yard, and there the combined forces

would fight the mob.
But daylight came before the mob got fully organized,

and no further shooting occurred.

But those who had led the mob were not yet ready to

He stood there and counted the minutes while the mob
continued to jeer at him.

At the end of three minutes. not a man had made a
movement to leave the block.

Colonel Jones stepped back, and gave the company the

abandon their plan of blowing up the jail and killing the | order to load their guns.

sheriff and all his deputies.

- They would not make the attempt in open daylight,

9

“Charge bayonets !

but they determined to organize a mob for the next night| became silent, and some of those in front turned pale.

that could overpower the military as weli as the sheriff.

But these excited individuals were not so well ac-
quainted with the Governor of the State and the Colonel of

“Borward! Double quick! March !” :
The two lines of steel were moving on without a break.
For one instant only did the mob hesitate. Then they

 

 

the Second Regiment of State troops as they were before | turned and fled like frightened cattle.

_the day ended.
The governor acted promptly when he was asked for shot.

more troops to preserve order, every company within easy

reach being ordered to Birmingham on special trains. —

riot, and at once took command of the military.

Colonel Jones’ coolness and nerve had won without a

By ten o’clock the other companies began to arrive,

The coming of such a large military force served to in- :
i erease the anger of the mob element, and their threats

Rain began to fall early in the morning, and continued |

At sight of the double line of glittering steel the mob.

The troops remained on the ground for a week, but no

! other mob was formed, and no attack on the jail was-
Colonel Jones, the commander of the Second Regiment, made.

arrived in the town at six o’clock in the morning after the |

 

‘of the force was held in reserve at the court-house and

 
 
 

 
   
    
    
    
     
      
    
     
  
  
 

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oo THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY.

 

CHAPTER VII.
THE STRANGLER’S THIRD VICTIM.

For a time the Hawes mystery was almost forgotten by
the public while they discussed the bloody repulse of the
mob and the probable outcome of it.

- But the name of Dick Hawes was so strongly fixed in
_ the public mind in connection with the mysterious mur-

ders that the shooting at the jail was called “the Hawes
riot.” :

But while the public had almost forgotten the bloody
trail and the other features of the case the detectives had
not.

They continued to work day and night on every clew
that was discovered, but their progress was slow.

Each man was working on a theory of his own, but on
one point all of them were agreed. That was that the
other little girl of Dick Hawes had probably fallen a vic-
tim to the strangler.

They set to work to find the body, hoping that if found
it might furnish a new clew.

The two lakes, the one where the body of little May and
the one where the body of Mrs. Hawes had been found,
were dragged again and again, but still the body of the
other child was not found.

Finally the detectives decided to drain the lakes. The
owners readily consented, and the water was let out of
Lake Como first. :

Tt was there that the body of May Hawes was found.

But the bottom of the lake was searched in vain when
the water dried up.

The other body was not there, and the mystery was as
deep as ever.

On Saturday, December 15, one week after the finding
of the body of Mrs. Hawes, the detectives drained the lit-
tle lake, and then their long search was rewarded.

lalf buried in the mud, a few feet from the spot where
the body of the mother was found, lay little Irene.

She, too, had died at the hands of the Strangler.

Around her little throat were the same blue and black
marks of the cruel fingers that had been found on the
throat of the mother and the other chiid.

The body of Irene, like that of her mother, had been
weighted down with heavy irons, so that there would: be
no chance of it ever floating.

The body of May was the only one of the three that had
not been weighted down with iron.

ler body floated to the surface, and was found soon
after she was murdered. ;

That was the only blunder the Strangler had made. But
for his neglect to sink the body of little May so it would
not rise to the surface his crimes nmiight never have been
discovered.

On the body of Irene there were no marks of violence
beyond the finger-prints on the throat, and it gave the de-
tectives no new clew to work on.

It only confirmed their theory that the entire family
had been murdered, and the indications were that Mrs.
Hawes and Irene had been killed at the same time and
their bodies disposed of the same night, while the killing
of May was done later.

This theory was borne out by the statement of Fannie
Bryant that May had been at her house on Sunday and
Monday.

As the detectives went on with their work evidence
came. to light little by little which seemed to confirm the
theory of the public that Hawes himself had murdered
his wife and children.

- These links in the chain of circumstantial evidence were
sometimes very slender, but as yet the detectives had
been unable to find any other man who could have had a
motive for the crime.

They could think of no motive any other man could
have except robbery.

But still they were not convinced of the guilt of Hawes,
and they knew the evidence against him was weak.

body of the little girl, Irene, there was a bad break in the _ :

of the case deepened. :

A woman walked into the coroner’s office the next day,
and asked for a permit to see Dick Hawes in jail. __

She said she was Mrs. Miller, and that she kept a board-
ing-house on a certain street. —

chain of evidence against Dick Hawes, and the mystery

oner.

“To gee if I can identify him. If I can I may be able
to give some testimony of importance in the case.”

The coroner gave the woman a permit to see Hawes.

In half an hour she returned to his office.

“He is the same man!” were her first words as she en-

tered the room.

“What do you know about him ?”

“He engaged board at my house a week before he was
married, and furnished a room there. The furniture is
still in the room.”

“Did he engage board for himself.alone ?”

“No, for three—himself, wife, aud daughter.”

‘‘What did he tell you about himself ?”

“He told me he was a widower, but that he was going
to marry again in a few days. Hesaid something about
having some children, and said that his oldest one, a lit-
tle girl, would live with him and his wife. He said his
brother would take care of the others for a while.” |

This was new and important evidence.

It partly confirmed the story told by Hawes when he:
was arrested, and yet it was a direct contradiction of
some of it.

But it indicated that at the time he engaged board with
Mrs. Miller, Hawes could not have been planning the mur-
der of bis family.

He had in fact engaged board for one of the children.

But he had said he was a widower, when there was
plenty of evidence that the first Mrs. Hawes was alive at
that time.

Mrs. Miller’s story only complicated the case, and. made
the mystery deeper than before.

CHAPTER VIII.
DICK HAWES’ DOUBLE.

Detective Robbins, one day, was going through the vards
of the railroad, for which Dick Hawes had worked, in
search of possible clews to the Hawes mystery.

It was not a promising field for clews, but he thought
that by talking with some of the men about the yards
who knew the engineer, he might learn something that
would help him to unravel at least a part of the mystery.

He had talked with a dozen men without success when
he ran across a switchman who had half an hour of leis-
ure time. :

“Do you know Jack Thomas?” asked the switchman,
after the detective had been talking to him for five min-
utes.

‘No; whois Jack Thomas ?”

“ He’s one of the company’s spotters, or detectives; at
least he was.”

“Where is he, now ?”

“That’s a question. It was partly that which made me
ask if you knew him.”

“Ts he missing ?”

“T don’t know. I’ve not seen him around since this
business came out. He may be out on the road, but some
of the boys were saying yesterday that his landlord was
asking about him.”

“Does this man Thomas know anything about the case?”

“That’s «question, too. These spotters always know
more than you think.”

“Do you think he knows anything about it?”

“ Well, I wouldn’t say anything against the man for the
world, because you see I don’t know anything.”

B

“Well, what do you suspect ?”
“Can’t say as I suspect anything.”

 

Less than twenty-four hours after the finding of the

“Did Thomas know Hawes?”
“T think he did. Leastways he knew Mrs. Hawes.”
“Did he visit her ?” :

“Why do you want to see the prisoner?” asked the cor-

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“He used to come around the yards and ask if Dick
went out on his run that morning and how long he would

be.out. You can draw your own conclusions from that.”
_ . The detective did draw his own conclusions. He was
_ deeply interested in the story of the switchman by this
. time.

“How long had this been

“ About a year.”

“Did Hawes know this man Thomas ?”

“Oh, I guess every man on the road knew him!
ought to have known him for several reasons.”

“What are the reasons?”

“Say you never saw Thomas?”

66 No. Dh)

“He and Dick were as much alike as two peas, except
that Thomas wore fine clothes. He wasa sort of dude,
and was solid with the women.”

“Did he know Mrs. Hawes in Atlanta?”

“Think he did, but I’m not sure.”

‘When did you see Thomas last ?”

“Thursday or Friday before Dick got into trouble.”

‘“Where was he?”

“ Around the yards here to find out if Dick had gone out
on his run.”

_ “Where did he go from here ?”

“That you will have to guess.”

“You have not seen or heard of him since that time?”
“NO.”

‘He has not been around the yards?”

“No. All the boys know him.” .

“You say he looked like Hawes?”

“Exactly.” ¢

“He visited Mrs. Hawes when her husband was out on
es the road ?”

  
   
  

going on?”

 
  
   

Dick

   
  
 

 

4 o) “Some of the boys say he did. I don’t know anything
Hee about it.”
“What sort of man was Dick Hawes?”

4 ‘Dick was a good fellow in his way.”
: “What do you think of the case ?”

‘T think there’s a lot in that case that you fellows ain’t
found out as yet.” J

Detective Robbins thought so, too, but he said nothing.

Thanking the switchman for the information about’
Thomas, he started out to find the missing railroad detec-
tive or to learn more about him.

He talked with a number of men employed on the same
road, and all of them agreed that there was a striking re-

 

 

 

“LOG CARIN: LIBRARY.

named Williams, and most of his boarders were railroad
men.

Mr. Williams knew Jack Thomas very well, because
the railroad detective had been the star boarder.

“Where is Thomas, now?” asked the detective.
_ “Lord, Idon’t know. I never keep up with his com-
ings and goings. When he’s gone I never know where he
is, unless he writes to me to send him something some-
where on the road.”
i : Has he written for anything since he went away this
ime ?”

‘No, nothing ?”

“Did he go out on the road 2?”

“I suppose so, but I never know where he goes when he
leaves the house.” :

“Did you know when he went to see Mrs Hawes?”

“Now, see here, I don’t know anything about that. I
have heard the boys talk, but you know how railroad boys
are. There may not be anything in that.”

“When did Thomas leave the house ?”

“On Saturday, December 1.”

“What time of day 2?”

‘“ About three in the afternoon, as well as I remember.”

“Was he dressed as if going out on the road 2”

‘No, come to think of it, he put on his good clothes be-
fore he went away that day.”

“He did not say when he would be back ?”

“No, he did not say anything. He just went off as he
often does without saying a word.”
“ Which way did he go?”
“See here now, I told you Idid not know anything
about his going to see that woman.”
“T said nothing about the woman.
way he went when he left the house.”
* Well he went that way, if you must know.”
“What way ?”
“Over the hill.”
“Which way do you mean by over the hill ?”
‘Over the hill is toward the house where Hawes lived.
He often went over that way. That’s the way he went
that Saturday, if you must know it all, hut I don’t know
that he went there. I didn’t see him after he turned the
nih”
By a few more questions Detective Robbins learned that
the boarding-house of Mr. Williams was only half a mile
from the house where the Hawes family had lived. ‘
There was ahill between the two houses, and when

I only asked which

 

semblance in the appearance of Jack Thomas, the railroad
detective, and Dick Hawes.

Of the relations supposed to exist between Thomas and |
Mrs. Hawes very few of the men would say anything.

Some of them admitted that it was common talk on the’
road that Thomas was very attentive to her, and was sup-
posed to be a frequent caller at the cottage when Hawes
was out on the road, but that was about all the informa- |
tion that Detective Robbins could get.

None of the men he talked with knew where Thomas
was.

They all remembered that they had not seen him since |
before the beginning of the Hawes mystery, but they sup- |

Seid sama

 

posed that he was out on the road working up a case, as'
he was frequently out several weeks ata time. .
At the office of the superintendent of the road Robbins |
be learned that. Thomas had reported for duty last on Satur: |
day morning, December 1. |
That was the morning of the day on which Mrs. Hawes |

was last seen alive.

 

ing, but was told to report at the office on Monday

morning. |
a He did not report and the superintendent had since:
| heard nothing from him. a
i He had made a few inquiries, and not learning his

He supposed Thomas had got another job, and had left
without notice to the company.
No one suspected anything wrong, as the man had a
fairly good record on the road. __ :

With this information, Detective Robbins went to the
house where Thomas had boarded, a place kept by a man

 

 

Thomas had not been assigned to any work that morn- | oF

Thomas was seen to go over this the supposition among
the other boarders was that he had gone to see Mrs.
Hawes, and that was what Williams meant when he said
that Thomas had gone over the hill.

That was all the information that the detective could

get there, but it was enough “to convince him more than

ever that the Hawes mystery was yet unsolved.
When he Jeft the boarding-house, he followed the foot-

| path over the hill to the Hawes cottage.

It was a much traveled path, and he could not have fol-

| lowed the trail of Jack Thomas if it had been made the day
| before instead of three weeks before.

Williams, the boarding-house keeper, had agreed with

| the switchman that Jack Thomas and Dick Hawes were
.as much alike as two peas, and this proved that Dick
“Hawes had a double. ;

This double had apparently been a regular visitor to

Mrs. Hawes when her husband was out of the city.

The double had disappeared, and his absence dated

ifrom the day on which the murder of Mrs. Hawes was

ipposed to have occurred. :
The Hawes mystery was still getting deeper at every

move made by the detectives.

All the new evidence discovered only led to new and

greater mysteries, the greatest of which was the identity
of the Strangler.

While trying to trace the movements of the missing

RO a bee ert loved smother mar in bis place. ‘Jack Thomas, the detectives began to weld new links in
the chain of circumstantial evidence against Dick Hawes.

  

  
   
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER IX.
NEW LINKS IN A OHAIN OF EVIDENCE.

- Whatever trail the detectives followed it only led them
into deeper mystery, until it looked as if the Hawes case
would in the end baffle solution.

But while the detectives were
theories of the case, new evidence
the most unexpected quarters.

Men who had never before been heard of in the case
visited the jail, and after making sure of the identity of
Dick Hawes went tothe coroner and told their stories,
and these furnished new links in the chain of ‘evidence
that was being bound about the prisoner.

Hawes had engaged counsel, and by their advice he had
kept silent, save to protest that he was innocent.

His counsel were preparing to make a motion to have
him released, so slight was the evidence against him, when
new evidence began to come i
tectives.

But all this was
to Hawes as the man with a
family, and contradicted par
on the night of his arrest, and it was no
to convict.

Really the most damaging testimony against him was
that which proved that he had not told the whole truth
when he was arrested.

That was responsible for. the assumption thatif he
would tell a lie about one thing he would about another,
and that made the public doubt his story.

Fannie Bryant, the mysterious woman, who admitted
that May Hawes had been at her house the two days pre-
ceeding her murder, had been in jail all this time.

She was held as a witness, and for atime was over-
looked.

Fannie Bryant was a cunning woman, and by reading
tie papers she had kept herself well informed of all the
developments in the case.

She accused no one of the ¢
out that her testimony was 0
it had been before.

One line of street-cars r
cottage where the Hawes family had lived.

At one of the principal street corners in the heart of the
city this line connected with another which‘ran out to the
lake where the body of May Hawes was found.

A conductor on the first line came forward, and told
that on the Monday night on which May Hawes wa
posed to have been murdered a man and a little gir
got on his car, near the
junction with the road out to the lake, and there got off. |

He was very positive about this, and recalled several
incidents that had impresse
date on his mind.

He remembered that it was a cold night, and that the

man and the little girl got up close to the stove.

They were the only passengers in that car f
blocks, and the conductor had noticed them closely, he
said, when he collected the fare. |

This conductor went to the jail and identified Hawes as,
the man who rode on his car with the little girl.

The conductor did not know that Dick Hawes had a
double. ‘

Then a man who
junction of the two roa
Monday night he had sold some oranges to a man
was accompanied by a little girl.

He had noticed them get off a car of the ro
they were seen by the conductor.

Some undigested orange had been found in the stomach
of May Hawes, when the doctors made an autopsy, and
this was a strong linkin a chain of circumstantial evi-
dence.

But the fruit

working out their own
began to come in from

circumstantial, and it simply pointed
motive for the murder of his
t of the story that he had told
t strong enough

rime, but evidence soon came
f far greater importance than

an within a short distance of the

or several
|

i

|
|

|

had a sidewalk fruit-stand near the
ds remembered that on the same
who

dealer was not so positive in his identifi-
cation of Hawes as the car conductor had been.

Next day a conductor on the road running out to the
lake, came forward to tell that he remembered that on the

n without the aid of the de- |

Hawes cottage, and rode to the,

d the matter as wellas the

ad on which |
‘than ever, because some of these witnesses might have

‘game Monday night he had had among his passengers a
|man and a little girl who got off at the lake. — eo
One cr two passengers also came forward, and said _
they
All these witnesses promptly identifi
when they saw him at the jail.
The other links to complete this chain followed quickly.
Another conductor on the line running to the lake saw
the man on his car returning to the city late at night witb-
out che little girl. . d
| He remembered that the man got on at the lake, was
‘the only passenger for some distance, and that he kept his
‘eoat collar turned up around his face as if he desired to
escape notice. :
| This conductor also identified Hawes as the passenger
in question, and all these witnesses agreed as to time.
| According to the stories told, this man had come in from
the Hawes cottage with the girl a little before eight.
| It was about that bour that he bought the oranges at
‘the fruit-stand, and fifteen minutes later the man and girl
were seen on the car going toward the lake.
| It was shortly before nine o’clock when they got pff the
‘ear at the lake, and it was nearly ten when the man got
‘on the car alone to return to the city.
 Theu a drug clerk came forward with a story that
Hawes had come into the store where he worked, and
-made some small purchases on the same night about half-
past ten or near eleven o’clock.
| The clerk said he knew Hawes because he had filled
prescriptions for him on previous ‘occasions.
| He said that on the night in question Hawes had com-
plained of being cold, and said that he had just been rid-
‘ing on the cars.
The chain of evidence led Hawes without a break from
_a place near the cottage where his family had lived, and
also near the home of Fannie Bryant out to the lake
| where\ the body of little May had been found.
ed by the girl, and he

saw the man and the little girl on the car.
ed Dick Hawes

On the way he was accompanl
came back without her.

Standing alone that looked like a chain that Dick Hawes ©
could not break, but the detectives did not forget that the
engineer“had a double.

When this evidence came ou
story to tell.

This chain fitted into the link that was furnished by
the first testimony she gave before the coroner.

She said that Hawes came to her house about seven
-o’clock in the evening, and took the girlaway.  —
| To this story she now added that little May had been
‘talking much of the time she was thers about a new board-

‘ing-h :
g sup- 178 CURE

l had

t, Fannie Bryant had a

|
4

She had said that she was going to live with her father
at a new boarding-house down town.
| The little girl had also said that her mother and Irene
had gone away, she did not know where.

If Fannie Bryant was telling the truth this story of hers
in connection with other things that had come to light
added more and more mystery to the case.

Mrs. Miller had said that Hawes had engaged _ board for
his new wife and a little girl at her house.

According to Fannie Bryant little May must have
known of the arrangement, and that would explain why
ghe talked of going to the new boarding-house to live.

All this would indicate that Hawes could not have
planned to kill little May, even if he had killed his wife
and the other child.

But he had denied that he went to the house of Fannie
Bryant and got his child, and that he had seen her since
the Saturday before the Monday on which he was accused
of taking her away.

Some one was telling a lie, and the mystery was deeper

i

\
‘been deceived by Dick Hawes’ double.
The detectives were stil) trying to find some trace of.
the movements of Hawes on the Saturday night and Sun-
day before the murder of little May.
They learned of his movements on Monday, and a part.
of Monday night, put of his whereabouts on Sunday and
Sunday night they could get no trace.
What they learned concerning his movements on Mon.

|

 
A Monday night.

Ve TOG CS GIN UDA

 

 

_ day threatened to break the pretty chain of circumstances.

that connected him with the disappearance of May.

He was about town all day Monday.

He had sold the furniture of the cottage, as he said. The.
dealer confirmed that. ;

Very late in the afternoon, at dark in fact, he had made)
some purchases in a store where he was well known.

The proprietors and their clerks had ail talked with him
when he was in there, because he was a regular customer
and they knew him well.

Thev were positive that it was after dark when he left
the store, leaving behind a valise which he was to call for
at some future time.

Then a hackman was found who was positive that he
had seen Dick Hawes eating at a lunch counter, and had
talked with him a little after a certain hour on the same

If this was true Hawes could not have been strangling
his child at a lake six miles away at the same time.

To the detectives it began to look as if Hawes. and his
double had both been abroad on that night.

And it was beginning to look asif one of thein was the
terrible Strangler.

But the question was which was the one?

On the morning following this important Monday night
Hawes had gone away to get married.

CHAPTER X.
THE SKELETON IN THE WOODS.

While the detectives were doing their best to unravel
the mystery of the Hawes case, the county authorities
were working hard to fasten the crimes of the Strangler
on Dick Hawes. The public was clamoring now for the
conviction and punishment of some one for the terrible
crimes, and the officers of the law had come to the con-
‘clusion that Hawes was guilty, because circumstances
seemed to point to him, and they could find no one else
against whom they could make such a strong case before a

ury.
; In looking around for more witnesses who could pos-
sibly fill in some of the missing links in the chain of evi-
dence against Hawes, the officers of the law found that a
negro who had been his fireman on .the railroad was
missing.

They hunted high and low for him, but could not find
him.

Fannie Bryant was still in jail, and she was finally in-
dicted for the murder, the officers believing that they
could at least convict her of being an accomplice.

The woman still stood by the story that she had told all
the time since her arrest, but the officers thought that she
knew more than she would tell.

A man who had lived with Fannie Bryant and was
known as her husband, had also been arrested, and was
held as a witness.

No trace of the missing fireman could be found, but it
was learned that he had left the city about the time of the
finding of the body of May Hawes.

The movements of all these parties had been traced un-
til the officers were satisfied that none of them could have
been the person who wentinto the Hawes cottage and
washed up the blood stains there while the detectives
were following the trail of blood.

Then there must be some one at large still who was in
some way mixed up in the crime.

But the officers were now trying to get evidence against
Hawes, and they made no effort to keep these mysteries
longer before the public, for the public had had enough of
them by this time and they wanted some action. |

But just as the officers thought they were getting the.
case into pretty good shape something new loomed up. |

 

At this roadway the trail of blood disappeared.

The blood that made the trail it was supposed had come — :

ue, the wound found in the back of the dead woman’s

ead.
At the roadway, the officers reasoned, the body had

been placed in a vehicle of some kind and carried on to

ithe lake.

To supply this missing link another voluntary witness
appeared on the scene at the proper moment. ;
He was a citizen whose suburban home wason a hill }

overlooking the point in the road to the lake at which th2
bloody trail had been lost.

This man said that on the Sunday night before the dis-
covery of the crimes of the Strangler, he happened to get.
up about midnight, and, looking down toward the road,
which was not far away, he saw a carriage drive up to
the spot where the trail of blood was lost.

There it stopped, and the driver got. down and assisted
aman who was waiting for him to lift something into the
carriage, and then the vehicle was driven away toward
the lake with both men on the driver’s seat.

This citizen had been for weeks looking for that car-
riage and driver, certain that he could recognize both.

He had found them at last, and then there was another
arrest and more mystery, but this was short lived.

eThe prisoner got a writ of habeas corpus, and notwith-
standing his absolute identification by the citizen, he
proved a complete alibi by the best of witnesses.

This added a little mystery, because the good citizen
was sure that while he might have been mistaken in his
identification he did not dream the fact of the carriage.

While the county officers were adding a mite to the
case from time to time, the detectives were not idle.

They were devoting most of their efforts to trying to
find some trace of Jack Thomas, the double of Dick
Hawes.

They found a trace of him sooner than they expected.

One Sunday some boys from the city took a long walk
into the woods, and climbed to the top of a small moun-
tain two miles outside the town.

Near the top of the mountain they found a large and
deep depression in the ground, which they thought might
lead to a cave. :

They clambered down the steep sides of the place to
look for the cave, and were making their way along one
side of it.

Suddenly the boy who was in front, leaped to one side
with a yell of terror. Hei

“Took there!” he shouted to his companions, when he
had regained enough breath to speak.

The other boys did so, and then their faces turned pale
and they began to look around for the best way to get out
of the place.

What had frightened them was the skeleton of a man
lying at full length on the ground.

The fiesh had all been eaten away from the bones and
the big eye sockets as they appeared to be staring up-
ward were enough to frighten any one.

The boys did not approach the skeleton a second time.

From a distance they could see that the dead man’s
clothing was still there.

As fast as possible the boys got away and back to town,
where they told of the terrible find they had made on the
mountain side. ;

In a short time a large crowd of men, were on their way
to the spot.

Among the others who hurried out to see the ghastly
find were some of the detectives who were at work on the
Hawes mystery, and first at hand was Detective Robbins.

When the detective reached the spot, he merely glanced
at the skeleton, to see that there was no flesh or hair by

| which it could be identified, and then went to work to get

the clothing together ad examine the pockets.
The first thing he found in the pockets was a bunch of

It was plain that the Strangler had carried the body of keys, and among the latter he found one which he knew
Mrs. Hawes a part of the way between the cottage and the | was a railroad switch-key. i
lake ina vehicle of some kind, or else that he had had) By this he knew that the skeleton was that of a raal-
assistance. ‘yoad man. ‘
~ The trail of blood led from the cottage acrossa vacant It was little more than a mile from the spot where the

lot to a roadway that led to the lake. -skeleton was found to the home of Williams.

 
i

‘es

THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY.

2

 

_. The detective hurried over to the boarding-house, and
found Williams at home.

“Could you recognize the suit worn by Jack Thomas
the last time you saw him?” was the first question he
asked. , :

“Certainly,” said Williams.
him when he bought it.”

“Then come with me.”

Wondering what had happened, Williams followed the
detective, who led the way back to the spot where the
_ skeleton lay.

The clothing of the dead man was spread out iv order.

“Do you recognize these clothes?” asked the detective,
pointing to the pile.

“Why, they are Jack Thomas’ clothes,” cried Mr. Wil-
liams, without a moment’s hesitation.

“Then Dick Hawes’ double is dead,” the detective mut-
tered to himself.

‘“T knew it well, was with

CHAPTER XI.
THE GIRL-WIFE OF DICK HAWES TELLS HER STORY.

i

The public for a time lost sight of Mays Storey, the girl
Dick Hawes had married.

She had returned to the home of her parents in Colum-
bus, Miss., soon after her bridal tour was so rudely inter-
rupted by the arrest of Hawes on a charge of murder.

The shock of his arrest when she heard the charge
against him left the girl prostrate in her room at the hotel
for several days.

As soon as she was able to travel her father came for
her, and she went home without seeing her husband
again.

While she remained in Birmingham she would not see
any visitors except afew relatives, and the public had
remained in ignorance of how she came to meet and
marry Dick Hawes.

As the case began to pall on the public, and they wanted
gome new sensation, they began to wonder about this girl,
and were anxious to hear what she could tell.

The detectives had thought of the girl while the mys-
tery was fresh, and they believed she might throw some
- light on it.

They went to her home to interview her, but she would
not see them, and to one and all she sent the same answer,
that she had nothing to say.

It remained fora young newpaper woman to get the
sad story of how Mays Storey met and loved Dick Hawes.

This woman went to Columbus and succeeded in ob-
taining an audience with the girl who hardly knew
whether she was a wife or not.

To her Miss Storey, or Mrs. Hawes, consented to talk,
saying she had read everything the newspapers had
printed about the case, and she believed that Hawes was
guilty of the murder of his wife and children.

“ When I saw Miss Storey,” said the newspaper woman
in her report, “I could understand the mad infatuation of
Dick Hawes, which made him desperate—ready to do
anything to win such a prize. She is of that rare type of
Southern beauty of which the poets sing and novelists
rave. She is not tall, but as graceful as a Greek goddess.

“Her hair is a beautiful, glossy brown, with a golden
gleam here and there as the light falls on it.

“Her eyes, beautiful dark brown, are shaded with
heavy, dark eyebrows and lashes. They flash with intel-
ligenve, and as she talks they become wonderfully ex-
pressive. "

“Miss Storey dresses well and takes much pains with
her toilet. She always looks neat and stylish.

‘‘Her face shows no trace of the terrible ordeal through
which she has passed.

‘‘Miss Storey is young, only twenty-one this winter, but
ae troubles and her bitter experience make her seom
older.

“¢Will I tell you the story of how I met and married
Dick Hawes?’ said Miss Storey, when first asked to tell
me about it.

“<Oh, it is too horrible. I am trying to forget it all, and

 

sometimes I wonder if I will not awake one day to find it
all a térrible dream.’ yee

“She put her hands over her eyes for a moment as if to
shut out some terrible vision, and then she went on: :

“<I try to forget; people say I bear up bravely, but I
have had to do it. If I had given way to the terrible grief
that was breaking my heart it would have killed my old
father. You know he opposed the marriage, and when—
when the blow came it almost killed him. For his sake I
have tried to bear it bravely. The subject is never men-
tioned at home now.

“*VYou have seen father—his gray hairs—that awful
trouble caused it.

“‘Do Llove that man? No, no, Heaven forbid. I hate
him. He is not the man I loved.

“*J loved a man who looked like Mr. Hawes, but I never
loved a monster, a fiend in human shape.

“<The newspapers have so often misrepresented me that
T soon became afraid to speak to any one about the matter
for fear in some way it would get into the newspapers.

“<The papers have published such awful stories. They
said I fainted when he was arrested on the train. Why,
I did not know what was the matter until eleven o’clock
that night.

“‘They published that I wrote him letters. That is
false, I have never written one line to him since—since
that night. I sent him a Bible, that, was all. !

“¢T will tell you the whole story. Out at Kennedy one
day about four or five months before we married, he
helped me off the train and introduced himself.

“«He was nicely dressed, and I thought him quite a
handsome gentleman, and a very agreeable one.

‘““A few weeks later he came to see meatmy home
here in Columbus. He told me, then, he was an engineer
on the Georgia Pacific Railroad, and asked nie if he could
call again.

“*He was so pleasant I consented to have him call, and
he came to see me often. He would sometimes send flow-
ers and candy, but he never gave me any valuable
presents.

“¢He had been calling on me about a month when papa
heard some one say that he was a married man.

“«Mr. Hawes had told me from the first that he was a
widower and had one child, a little boy, who lived with
his brother in Atlanta.

“¢When papa told me whathe had heard, I asked Mr.
Hawes about it. He looked at me with a half-angry, half-
reproachful look, and said: “Mays, you seem to be hunt-
ing up everything bad about me you can. IJ have told you
I am a widower, and tkat is the truth.”

“T° believed him, but. papa would not, and told him
never to enter his house again.

“<Papa told me I must not see that man again, but you
know how young girls are.

“““We were soon meeting at the houses of my friends,
who kept our secret, and papa knew nothing of it.

“T eonsented to marry him, but I told Mr. Hawes he
must go to papa and ask his consent and also convince
him that he was a single man.

‘He went to see papa, and showed him a certificate of
divorce.

“‘T thought his first wife was dead; he had never told
me about a divorce.

“+ After he had shown the divorce to papa he told me
about it, and I thought it was all right.

‘““<We were married and started for Augusta, Ga.

“¢When we reached Birmingham some men came to
Mr. Hawes and called him to one side, and said something
to him.

“¢T did not hear what it was, but in a moment he came
back to me. and said he would have to go up town with
those men for a little while.

“THe called a friend of bis, and asked him to take me
to a hotel. ‘

“‘Fe gaid he would join me at the hotel in a short time.
I went to the hotel and waited, thinking Mr. Hawes would
come every moment.

“About eleven o’clock acousin of mine came to the

|hotel and told me Mr. Hawes wasin jail charged with the.

murder of his little girl.
“¢ “Tf has no little girl,” I exclaimed.

 
THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY.

1d.

 

 

 

 

. “*Then my cousin explained about the murder, and

- showed me copies of the Birmingham papers.

“*T could not believe it. It seemed too horrible.
thought I was dreaming.

“*That night I did not close my eyes in sleep, my brain
was in a whirl, I did not know what to believe or what to

do. As long as I remained in Birmingham I seemed to be}
talk about me, and I am afraid they will not let me forget

in some sort of a horrible trance.

I

** *But sometimes I think my whole future is ruined.

“ “Wherever I go people will point at me and say there
is the woman who married Dick Hawes.

“ ‘When I think of his crimes and what may be his
fate, and the fact that my life was once Jinked with his,
sometimes I think it will kill me.

‘““ *People will never forget, they will never cease to

“¢My father had heard of it all—in fact, he heard about if I could.

it before I knew the truth, and he telegraphed me to come |
‘always being pointed out to strangers and talked about as

home.

“¢T reached home at last—it seemed an age since I had the woman who married Dick Hawes.

1

left it—and found relief in tears.
“«Tt was several days before I could think over the mat-
ter calmly, or talk about it. Oh, it was terrible, terrible!
“<«T read the papers, read all about the finding of those

bodies in the lake—the terrible riot at the jail, every-'

thing, read all the evidence against Mr. Hawes—my hus-
band. Then my dream was over.

“<The man I loved was dead, and inhis place I sawa
monster in human shape.

“ ¢All the love in my heart was dead, my confidence in
men was destroyed forever.

“ *No man can be trusted.

“ As long as I live I shall never place any confidence in

‘“*Oh, I shudder with horror every time I think of

It is terrible.

“ ‘The people here in Columbus have been very kind.
They never talk to me about it now, but every time I go
on the streets I cannot help but feel that every one is
looking at me and talking about me.
| “ “Sometimes as I pass a crowd on the streets I hear

people say, “That is she,” “There she goes,” and then
| without turning my head I know every one is staring at
me. '

*“ ‘Sometimes I start out to go somewhere, and when I
hear people talking this way and see them looking at me
|I go back home, and alone in my room I cry for an hour.
| “ *T tell you sometimes it seems that my punishment is
greater than I can bear. Before papa and mamma I try to

aman again. The very moment I fully realized the horror bear up bravely for their sakes.

of his terrible crime then I loved him no more, my heart

was dead. a
“ ¢The character of the man I loved was so different from

that of this man Hawes I can never think of them as one
and the same.’

‘ *Do you think Hawes still loves you?’

“ ‘No, no; he never loved me. Iam sure he could not
have loved me with a pure love or he would never have
subjected me to the terrible ordeal through which I was
compelled to pass.

“ ‘He must have known sooner or later I would learn
the truth, and I don’t think he could have thought fora

- moment that I would love him when I learned his true
character.’

‘¢ ‘Did you ever say you would live with him if he was |

acquitted ?’

‘© ‘No, I did not. I never thought of such a thing. I tell
you all the love for that man died in my heart long ago.
I think of him only as a horrid monster.’

“ ‘Have you never written hima letter or sent hima
message of any kind ?

“ ‘No, not one line. I have never sent him any message
or written him one word since I learned the truth.

‘< «Some paper published that I had been sending him
flowers. Thatis false. I never sent him flowers but once

in my life, and that was when I had known him only a

few weeks. I sent him one day a bunch of geraniums.’
“ You have obtained a divorce?’

“ ‘Yes, papa brought the suit, and I was granted a

divorce,
“ ‘There is a bill before the State Legislature now to

allow me to resume my maiden name. Iam told it will
surely pass in a few days.

“ ¢T will be so glad when it does. Iam trying so hard
to forget the terrible past, and when my old name is
legally my own again I think it will help me to forget.
No one calls me anything but Miss Storey now, but they
say that will not be my name legally until the Legislature
passes this bill.

“ ¢T eguld not bear for any one to call me by that other
name; I would insult them if they did. The sound of that
name is hateful to me.’

“ ‘Have you been much anncyed by reporters ?’

“ ‘Hundreds of them, it seems to me, have been here to
gee me, but I refused to see them.

“ ‘T have never talked to a reporter. Papa would not
let them enter the house.

_ “ ‘Some of them went away and printed such awful
stories; there was not a word of truth in any of them.

“ ‘One reporter came all the way from New York, but I
would not see him. He tried to talk to papa, but papa
would not talk to him about the matter.’

“ ‘What are your plans for the future, Miss Storey ?”
 “ §T am going to learn telegraphy, and then I will work
- ever so hard, and try to forget the terrible past.

‘‘*The terrible affair is never mentioned at home
now.’

“ *You have no sympathy for Hawes?’

“ ‘None!’ and the flash of the brown eyes showed that
,She meant just what she said.”

Miss Storey did not know all of the mystery of the
Hawes case. :

She had concluded that he was guilty of the ‘crimes of
the Strangler, and that was enough for her.

But her story when read by the detectives reminded
them of one point in the case they had overlooked for a
time.

| That was the divorce of which Dick Hawes had spoken.
j

CHAPTER XII.
THE DIVORCE FOUND—WHO KILLED JACK THOMAS?

Dick Hawes in the story he told when arrested had said
that he got a divorce from his first wife, and the de-
tectives, when they got time to look into the side issues of
the case, tried to find some record of this divorce.

They could find none in the court records of Atlanta or
Birmingham.

But after a long search they found that it was obtained

‘in a job printing office in Birmingham.

They learned that some months before the beginning of
the Hawes mystery he had gone to this printing office and
had a blank decree of divorce printed, for which he paid.

It was a queer order, but Hawes was a stranger to the
printer; he paid cash for his work, so no questions were
asked.

When this information came out to those who were
working on the theory that Hawes was the Strangler it
appeared to be another link in the chain of evidence
against him.
| The detectives tried to ascertain if the blank decree of

divorce had been filled out by Hawes himself and used to
convince the father of Mays Storey that he did not have a
i wife.

| In this they were unsucessful. All trace of the divorce
was lost, and Hawes, the only man who could have told
what was done with it, was silent. :

While the detectives were following clews that they
hoped would lead to some reasonable solution of the case,
new evidence continued to turn up from the most unex-
pected places.

In tracing the movements of Hawes for a week before
the Saturday night when he had vanished for a time, they
learned that he had told some of his friends among the
railroad men that he was going to put his two girls in a
convent at Mobile.

He parted with some of these friends on Saturday morn-

 
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No. 21

 

 

ing, stating he was going to carry his girls to the convent, v
dead man, and there found a new clew.that eventually led

 

that night. : | | dea
This was investigated, and it was found that Hawes had , to more mystery.
never made any arrangements to put his girls in the! They found in an inside
Mobile convent. | brass baggage check.
This story of the convent did not accord with the pris- It was old and worn, and covered with rust, but they
oner’s own talk of his movements and his past intentions, |cleaned it up, and tvuok it to the baggage-room at the
and this looked like more evidence against Hawes, but it Union passenger station. .
did not go far toward clearing up the mystery. | The man in charge took the check, and started in to find
Then another new witness appeared on the scene, and the baggage for which it called.
said that he had some important evidence against Hawes.; After an hour’s search he said the check must be for a.
He said that on Sunday before the murders were dis- piece of baggage that had been stored. _
covered he was walking along the bank of the little arti-' It was a rule of the railroad companies that when bag-
ficial lake where the bodies of Mrs. Hawes and Irene were | gage was not called for within a certain time after its
found, when he was approached by a stranger, who had arrival, it was put away in a storage warehouse to be held

pocket of the dead man’s coat a

went back to the suit of clothes found by the bones of the e

asked him how deep the water was, and appeared well
satisfied when told that it was as much as thirty feet in
places. |

This man said he had been to the jail, and had recog-
nized in Dick Hawes the man who had asked him about
the lake.

Then a story reached the ears of the detectives to the
effect that a certain negro had been an eye-witness of two
of the Strangler’s crimes, and had assisted him in putting
the bodies out of the way.

The story was to the effect that this negro, knew the
identity of the Strangler, and that the man was not Hawes
at all, but one who had as yet not been suspected of the
crimes.

This was a promising clew, because the detectives knew
that some one who was interested in the crime was still at
large.

They soon found that there was such a negro, and that
he was missing.

A little more investigation disclosed the startling fact
that he had disappeared on the day following the mysteri-
ous visit to the cottage when the blood stains were re-
moved, and then the detectives began to hunt for the
negro in earnest.

They found his trail after a time, and followed it across
four States to the finish.

When the negro was found and brought back he was
able to prove an alibi, and soon convinced the officers that
he did not know anything about the case.

Then came a witness who thought she could connect
Fannie Bryant with the murder of Mrs. Hawes and little
Irene.

This witness was a negro woman who said that a few
days before the time the two murders were supposed to
have been committed she saw Fannie Bryant down by the
railroad track near her house picking up pieces of iron,
and she was positive that the irons found tied about the
bodies of the woman and the little girl were the same she
had seen Fannie Bryant picking up.

This testimony of itself, however, was regarded as of
little value.

The feature of the case that now occupied the attention
of the detectives was the death of Dick Hawes’ double.

Tne skeleton that was found on the mountain had been
fully identified by the clothes as that of Jack Thomas, the
missing railroad detective who was known as the double
of Dick Hawes.

Who killed Jack Thomas? That was a question it ap-
peared that no one could answer.

The detectives were unable to trace Thomas beyond the
hill over which he had gone toward the Hawes cottage on
that fatal Saturday afternoon when he was last seen alive.

Was Jack Thomas the Strangler, and had he in a fit of
remorse killed himself ?

That was one theory, and it appeared to be a plausible
one. -

If it was not true, then the great question of the case
now was, Who killed Jack Thomas?

CHAPTER XIII.
AN IDENTIFICATION THAT LEADS TO MORE MYSTERY.

When the detectives who had been working on the kill-
ing of Jack Thomas had exhausted all other clews they

| until claimed.

| The detectives asked that the warehouse be searched for
|the article. This was done, and away down at the bottom
of a pile of trunks and satchels was found a large black
'valise on which was a check corresponding in number to
the one found in the clothing‘of the dead man.

| The detectives paid the charges on the valise, took it
away with them, and in the presence of the coroner and
| Sheriff it was searched.

| The valise contained a quantity of clothing, a few
‘books, a number of letters, and a small bundle.

The letters were tied:in a neat bundle and secured with
.a bit of blue ribbon.

The bundle was opened, and found to contain a photo-
graph of a pretty young woman and a lock of hair tied
| with a ribbon.
| The letters, which were addressed to J. W. Thomas,
| were opened, and their contents proved to be one side ot a
pretty love story.
| The author of the letters was the original of the picture
found in the valise, because in one of the letters the send-
‘ing of the picture was mentioned.

The young woman signed her name simply Nellie.

She addressed her lover always as, “My dear Jack.”

The letters proved that the couple had been engaged,
and the day the skeleton of the man was found in the
woods was the date that had been fixed for the wedding.

It was a sad ending toa pretty love story, it seemed,
but there were other things that suggested themselves to
the minds of the detectives in connection with all they
had learned of Jack Thomas.

They were positive that the man who had met his death
by some mysterious means on the mountain side was the |
railroad detective who was known as the double of Dick
Hawes. ‘

This is what the detectives were asking one another
after they had read the love letters found in the valise:

Did Jack’ Thomas live a double life ?

If he was intimate with Mis. Hawes and was going to
marry would he not want to make sure that she would
never annoy him? ;

What was the object of bis visit to the Hawes cottage |
on that fatal Saturday afternoon ?

According to the letters the date for his wedding was
fixed at that time.

Or was it possible that Jack Thomas himself had a
double?

None of his friends knew that he had a middle name.

Was he known at one place as J. W. Thomas and at
another simply as Jack Thomas?

The detectives decided to find the woman who signed
simply Nellie to the loving letters she had written to the
dead man.

The postmark on the letters was that of a small town
near the city.

With the clews
girl.
In the little village of Irondale everybody knew every- ©
body else and much about their domestic affairs, and con-
sequently every one knew that pretty Nellie Connors was
going to marry a railroad man. |

Almost every one in the village had seen him at one
time or another when he had come to see Nellie, dressed
in his bright blue and gold uniform.

He was a conductor on one of the roads running into the

they had it would be easy to find the

 

 
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17

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ee Ul.
. and that was about all any one in the village except
ellie Connors knew about him.
‘The girl had many friends, and some of them warned
her that handsome railroad men were often fickle, but she
only laughed at them, and told them they did not know
her Jack. ° a
The wedding-day was fixed, and for weeks Nellie was
busy getting ready. |
‘travel was heavy on the road, and her lover could not
get a leave of absence to visit her for several weeks be-
fore the wedding was to take place, but he wrote to her
every day.
The day set for the wedding came at last, and all the
oe of the pretty bride-to-be were gathered at her
ome.
The momentous hour came and passed, and Jack did not
appear.
Nellie wondered what could have happened, but she did
~ not lose hope of his coming until the shadows of night be-
gan to fall and still no message came from the absent one.
Then the girl’s courage gave way, and she broke down
in a flood of tears. ;
Her friends tried to comfort her in vain, and late at
. night they left her alone in her grief and despair, and
went away shaking their heads and saying to each other,
**T told you so.”

But when the girl’s first passionate burst of grief was:

over her faith in her lover returned, and she believed that
something had happened to keep bim away,

She sat up and waited for him all night, and when
another day and night had passed and no word came from
him, and no news of.an accident to his train, the poor girl
dried her tears, and put away all the things she had
bought for her wedding.

She then tried hard to be her old self again.

But the effort was a failure. and soon all her friends
noticed that she was growing thin and pale.

When Detective Robbins came to Irondale to look for
the writer of the letters found in the valise of Thomas he
had no trouble in reacning Nellie.

It was not a pleasant job to carry the news to her that
her lover was dead, but he thought that she would rather
know the truth than believe him false.

He sent word to the girl that he had something to tell
her about her lover, and he noticed her eagerness when
she came in the room and how her breath came faster and
faster.

“You were engaged to Jack Thomas?” asked Robbins.

Ves es

“He did not come on the day set for your wedding ?”

“‘No !” and the girl bowed her head.

“You have been told, I suppose, that he played you
false ?”

“Yes, but——” ‘

“Ttis not true. He could not come.”

“Oh, I knew it, 1 knew it! But tell me what has hap-
pened? Where is he?”

The detective turned his head away. He had rather face
a desperado than this pale, trembling girl.

“Qh, please tell me what has happened ?”

“ Jack Thomas is dead.”

The girl gave a little cry and sitting down in a chair
buried her face in her hands.

She sat there silent a long time, and then going up to
the detective she thanked him for coming to tell her.

The detective was puzzled. He hardly knew how to go
about finding out what he wanted to know without arous-
ing the suspicions of the girl, and this he did not want to
do if he could help it.

She had already had trouble enough on account of her
lover.

Finally Robbins hit upon a plan.

He would ask to see a photograph of her lover.

“Perhaps I was hasty, I may be mistaken,” said the
detective.

“What do you mean?” asked the girl, turning pale
again.

_ “The name is a common one, and it is barely possible
that the Jack Thomas I knew and your lover were not the
same.”

__-The girl sank into a chair. \

 

“T did not mean to startle you. I only wanted to make
sure that Ihad made no mistake. Have you a photo-
graph?”

“Yes, yes!” answered the girl. “I understand.”

She went and brought the photograph of her dead lover.

Detective Robbins had one of the Jack Thomas who was
known as the double of Dick Hawes.

He took the photograph from the girl, who was watch-
ing him closely, and looked at it.

Then he made the greatest effort of his life to control
his feelings and conceal his thoughts.

“Tg he the same?” asked the girl, almost in a whisper.

The detective bowed, and handed back the photograph.
“Your lover is dead,” he said, as gently as possible.

The girl left the room sobbing softly.

“T ought to get forgiveness for that lie,” Robbins mut-
tered to himself.

The photograph the girl had shown him was not that of
the original Jack Thomas. .

There were two men of the same name.

One Jack Thomas was living and the other was dead.

The question now was which one was alive.

Detective Robbins did a lot of thinking while on his way |
back to the city, and the result of it was that he came to-
the conclusion that the mystery of the Hawes case was no
nearer a solution than it was when the bodies of the
Strangler’s victims were dragged from the lake.

CHAPTER XIV.
THE TRIAL OF DICK HAWES BEGINS.

With the Hawes mystery still unsolved in the opinion
of the detectives and others who had followed the case
closely Dick Hawes was brought to trial several months
after the discovery of the crimes. ,

He was tried on an indictment charging him with the
murder of his little daughter May, the prosecution feeling
that they could make out a stronger case against him for
this crime than any of the others.

Many strange features of the case were
oped in complete mystery.

Jack Thomas, the missing
been found, nor the mystery
been cleared up.

Every one who was familiar with the testimony in the
case agreed that the Strangler, whoever he might be, had
an accomplice, perhaps more than orre.

This was fully established by tacts that had come out,
the strongest one being the impossibility that one man
could have carried the body of Mrs. Hawes from the cot-
tage to the lake where it was found.

There was absolutely no evidence against Hawes except
such circumstantial evidence as has been described in the
earlier chapters of this story. a

Yet public opinion was strongly against him.

The coroner had held a prolonged investigation of the
shooting of the mob at the jail by the sheriff. :

A jury had been selected from among the leading men
in the city, and a great mass of testimony had been taken.

The outcome of it all was that the sheriff was acquitted
of all blame in the matter, and this had angered many
men whose friends or relatives had been killed’ or
wounded in the riot.

The public was again clamoring for blood.

They wanted the crimes of the Strangler avenged, and
they had decided that Dick Hawes must be the guilty
man.

Hawes had secured able counsel, and his lawyers,
knowing the feeling against him, made a hard fight for a
change of venue.

They wanted the case tried in the court of some other
county, but the prosecution succeeded in defeating the
motion.

After many sharp

as yet envel-

railroad detective, had not
of the other Jack Thomas

fought legal battles over technicali-.
ties the case was finally called for trial.
There was less trouble in getting a Jury
expected even by the lawyers in the case,
sides announced themselves ready to proceed.

than had been
and then both

 
18

A LOG CABIN LIERARY.

 

From the beginning there was an air of confidence about
the prosecuting attorney and his assistants. This caused
“no end of gossip and speculation, and the trial attracted

am enormous crowd to the big court-room where it was
held, hundreds of men being in line at an early hour
every morning waiting for the doors to be opened.

Before the trial had fairly opened there were many
startling rumors flying about the city.

It was said that the prosecution had discovered new and
onvincing evidence against the prisoner which would
come as a complete surprise to the defense.

The prosecuting attorney maintained a discreet silence
while these rumors were flying about.

if he had new and important evidence he kept the in-
formation to himself, and kept the public guessing what
HR Was. °

._ Almost every one believed that he did have new evi-
sence, because they saw that he was confident of a con-
wiction from the very beginning of the trial. The prosecu-
tion opened the case by calling the coroner and other wit-
messes to establish the facr of the murder of little May
Hawes.

This was of no interest to the spectators until the sur-
‘geon who had made the autopsy took the stand to tell the
cause of death.

Then came a story that made the spectators shudder,
and caused the prisoner to exhibit the first feeling he had
shown in public since his arrest.

The surgeon told of the blue and black marks found on
the throat of the dead girl,wsand stated that she had been
strangled to death.

As he told of the cruel work of the Strangler there was
a half suppressed murmur of anger among the spectators,
and Dick Hawes bowed his head in his hands and a tear
érickled through his half-closed fingers.

After this testimony the prosecution began to bring out
the circumstantial evidence against the prisoner, link by
fink, in a skillful manner, and in a way to show itin its
sirongest light.

They put the woman Fannie Bryant on the stand, and
‘nad her tell the story of how the prisoner had left his lit-
tle girl at her house on Sunday morning before she was
found dead in the lake, and had then come back on Mon-
day evening and carried her away.

It was the same. story the woman had told when she
was arrested.

She had been indicted for the murder of Mrs. Hawes
since then because there was much circumstantial evi-
dence against her, but she did not change her story.

Wher the woman had finished, the prosecution traced
the movements of the prisoner with his child to the city
and out to the lake where she was found dead.

They followed him step by step with .the testimony of
the car conductors and others who had seen him, or at
feast thought they had.

it was not until Conductor Fanning, the man who had
geen the prisoner coming from the lake alone, took the
stand that the defense gave any intimation by their cross-
examination of what they were going to try to prove.
The conductor told how he had noticed the prisoner get on
his car at the lake late at night, being the only passenger
for some distance, and ride to the city alone.

The witness fixed the time of this ride to the city almost
fo the very minute, and the prosecuting attorney looked
well satisfied with the case up to this point.

Then the counsel for the defense took the witness in
hand for a cross-examination, and in a few moments they
sprung on the spectators the first sénsation of the trial.

“You are positive in your identification of the prisoner
here as your passenger on the night in question?” the wit-
mess was asked.

“(Quite positive.”

“You are sure you have made no mistake 2”

OV est ”

“Did you ever see Jack Thomas 2”

“The railroad detective ?”

* Yes.”

“Yes. IT have seen him.”

“Does he resemble any one else vou know?”

“Ves, I believe he does, now I come to think of it.”

“Tell us whom he resembles.”

 

“ Dick Hawes, the prisoner.”

At this there was a murmur of surprise in the court-
room, and the spectators leaned forward to catch ever
word. i

“He resembles Dick Hawes, you say ?” et

‘Ves, I think so.” i

‘“ Now that you think of it, is' it not a fact that you had
often noted that resemblance and heard it commented
on?” I

~ Yes, I believe so.” i i 3

‘Did you ever hear Thomas spoken of as Dick Hawes’ —
double ?”

“1 believe I have.” re

“ How often had you seen Dick Hawes before the night
on which you say he rode on your car?” :

‘Once or twice.”

‘You were not acquainted with him ?”

ING.

“ How many times had you seen Thomas before that.
night?”

“ A few times, I don’t remember how many.”

"“ Did you ever see the two men together ?”

“No, I think not.”

“Are you sure that you could tell them apart 2”

“T think so,” the witness answered, after some hesita-
tion.

‘Now that you recall the striking resemblance between
the two men are you positive that the man you saw on
your car that night was Dick Hawes?”

“T—I think so.” :

“Still you might have been mistaken ?”

66 Yes. PD

“The man you saw might have been Jack Thomas ?”

“Yes.”

“You are not positive then that the man was not
Thomas ?”

“No, I am not positive.”

“That is all.”

The prosecuting attorney was’ taken by surprise by the
unexpected cross-examination of the witness, and he said
that he had no more questions to ask Fanning.

He held a long consultation with his assistants before
he called the next witness.

The spectators all over the room were talking in whis-
pers, and had to be called to order several times by the
officers of the court.

It looked as if the defense and not the prosecution was
going to spring the surprise on the public.

Finally the examination of witnesses was resumed, and
the prosecution continued in the same line, bringing out
the chain of circumstances that pointed to Hawes as the
guilty man.

In this way the case dragged along for almost a week
before the State rested its case.

Then the defense began on the line so clearly indicated
by the cross-examination of the car conductor.

That same cross-examination had been applied to other
witnesses who had seem both Thomas and Hawes with as
much success as in the case of Fanning.

Several of them got confused, and said finally that they
might be mistaken in their identification and that the man
they saw might have been Dick Hawes’ double and not
the prisoner.

The defense introduced a lot of testimony to show that
there was a striking resemblance between Dick Hawes
and Jack Thomas.

They showed how this resemblance had often deceived
the friends of the two men, and then led up to the point
that all the witnesses who had testified against the pris-
oner might be honestly mistaken in their identification.

Then they introduced evidence in support of the theory
that Jack Thomas and not Dick Hawes was the Strangler.

They proved the disappearance of Thomas, and showed
how he had last been seen going in the direction of the
Hawes cottage.

The relations that were supposed to exist between him
and Mrs. Hawes were also referred to in the testimony.

When all this was brought out as strongly as possible
the defense put the prisoner on the stand.

Hawes told his story in a calm, straightforward.

}

way,

4
Af

 
“TIE LOG CABIN LIBRARY

 

 

 

& d ee cross-examination failed to change any mate-
rial point of it.
When he had finished the defense announced that they

oy - rested.

‘The spectators were standing on tiptoe, and all eyes
were on the prosecuting attorney.
If he had any sensation in reserve now was the time he
would spring it, thought the spectators. }
' The day was then well advanced, and the trial had
lasted well into the second week.

_ The prosecuting attorney arose and asked for an ad-
journment until the following day, when he said they
would have one witness to offer in rebuttal.

* “That witness will be the most important one in some
respects who has yet gone on the stand,” said the lawyer.

That was all, but the crowd knew then that the expected

sensation of the trial was coming at the last moment, and

they went home satisfied.
When they came back next day they were not disap-
pointed.

CHAPTER XV.
BACK FROM THE DEAD.

Thousands of men and women gathered about the doors
of the court-house on the morning of the day that the tes-
timony in the Hawes case was to end.

The fact that the prosecution was to introduce a new
and important witness in rebuttal had become generally
known, and the public expected in this witness the sur-
prise they had been waiting for throughout the trial.

But there was one other reason why the crowd was so
large that morning. For several days men had been talk-
ing to one another in low whispers of the possibility of a
_ verdict of not guilty.

It looked as if the public had decided that Hawes must
pay the penalty for the crimes of the Strangler, and they
were not prepared to accept any such verdict.

No one knew anything of what might happen, no one
would say anything, there had been no threats, but yet in
the vast crowd gathered about the court-house there was
a vague feeling that something startling would happen if
there was a verdict of not guilty.

No one dared express this feeling in words, yet it was in
the air.

When the doors of the court-house were finally opened
the throng rushed in, and in a few moments every inch of
standing room in the big hall was occupied.

The excitement of the crowd was well pURREOsEeO, but it
was intense.

It was increased by the delay in opening court.

Every one was late that morning, and it was past the
usual hour before the sheriff declared the court open.

Then there was an exasperating delay while the lawyers
argued various legal points and corrected the record.

The crowd in the court-room was getting desperately
impatient when the judge finally directed the prosecution
to proceed with their testimony in rebuttal.

The lawyers consulted together for a moment, and then
the prosecuting attorney in a clear voice called :

“Jack Thomas !”

There was an involuntary movement forward by the
crowd, and many half suppressed exclamations of sur-
prise, as a man who had been standing near the door
walked forward to the witness-stand and took his seat.

Dick Hawes’ double had come back from the dead.

The striking resemblance between the two men was
plain to every one now that they sat face to face.

No one in the big court-room regarded the witness with
more interest than Dick Hawes.

The surprise expected from the prosecution had come at
last, and it was fully as startling as the public had ex-
pected.

It was ten minutes before silence in the court-room was
fully restored and the examination of the witness could

_be proceeded with.

But when the first question was asked the witness the

silence in the court-room was intense, and the answers of

 

“What is your name?”

‘Jack Thomas !”

“What is your business ?”

“T am a detective.” —

“Where do you live?”

“In Georgia?”

“Where did you live last year ?”

“In this city.”

‘When did you leave this city ?”

“On Saturday, December 1, last.”

“That was the Saturday before the pourter of Mrs.
Hawes and her children ? is

Y Yea
_ “ What time that day aid you eave the city °

‘‘ About five o’clock in the afternoon.’ i

“When did you return e

“Mo- day. ”

“Did you know Mrs. Hawes?”

a6 Yes. 9

“Did you know the prisoner here ”

“Slightly.”

‘Did you see either of them the day you lett the city

“I did not.”

“You are positive that you were not in the city on Mon-
day evening, December 32”

Tea?

“You know ne of thet crimes known as the Hawes
murder mystery ?”

“Nothing except what I aye read in the newspapers.”

After a few more unimportant questions: the attorneys
for the prosecution turned the witness over to the defense.

By them Thomas was subjected to a rigid cross-exam-
ination lasting an hour, but his story was not changed.

But what the witness said was of less importance thay
his presence in the court-room.

Throughout the trial the defense had tried to make i¢
appear that witnesses who said they had seen Dick Hawes
on the fatal Monday night when his child was strangled
might have been mistaken, that the man they saw might
have been Dick Hawes’ double.

Then the double was missing and the popular impres-
sion was that he was dead.

The fact that he was alive and had come back when sent
for went a long ways to convince the public*if not the
jury that he had nothing to do with the crimes.

But his presence in flesh and blood proved that another
man of the same name had met death in some yer One
way, and added to the mystery of the Hawes case.

The public, however, did not stop to think of all this at
the time.

When the attorneys for the defense had finished with
the witness the prosecution recalled Conductor Fanning
and other witnesses who had testified to seeing Dick
Hawes on the way to the lake with his child, and asked
them to look at the two men and say which was the one
they saw on the night in question.

All the witnesses promptly said that ak Hawes wag
the man.

This ended the testimony in the case, and when the
court took a recess. before argument was begun publie
opinion was well divided as to the strength of the case
that had been made out by the prosecution.

Some thought that it was strong enough to convict the
prisoner without question, but others were doubtful.

When Jack Thomas first appeared in the court-roons
many persons thought that the very fact of his coming
settled the case against Dick Hawes and made him out the
Strangler.

But there was soon a reaction from this feeling, and
many persons who had followed the case closely realized.
that the mystery had not yet been cleared up.

The argument consumed three days, and it was almost
two weeks from the beginning of the trial before the case’
went to the jury.

The intensity of public feeling was: several timeg

‘demonstrated during the argument by the hisses or cheerg
‘of the crowd as the lawyers emphasized some strong

the man who had come back from the dead were heard |

_ plainly in every part of the big room.

point, demonstrations which the court officers and the
judge found it impossible to prevent.
As the argument went on the vague feeling in: the pub-.

 
are

THE LOG CABIN:

r yD}
yi

_No. 20

 

lic mind that the prisoner might be acquitted continued
to grow.
Men talked to one another about it in whispers, and
they looked the question they dared not openly ask,
which was what shall we do?
The twitching of compressed lips and the angry flash of

eyes usually answered these questions as well as it the!

men had openly spoken the thoughts that were in their
minds.

Every one in the court-room, with the possible excep-
tion of the jury, understood the feeling of the public.

But no one dared gay a word, and the case went on with
every one fast forgetting the mystery of the Strangler’s
crimes in wondering what would be the fate of Dick
Hawes.

It was just noon when the prosecuting attorney, who
spoke last, finished his address t» the jury.

The judge summed up, and charged the jury in an able
and impartial manner.

The attorneys on both sides were well pleased with his
charge, and:said that it was perfectly fair.

The case went to the jury, and then the court took a re-
cess for two hours, but few persons, however, leaving the
court-room during the time.

There was a teeling that the jury wonld not be out long,
no matter what the verdict might be, and every one
wanted to be present when they came in.

Those who had guod places held them, and the ones who
did not tried to get where they could see and hear all that
went, on within the railing around the bench.

It. was nearly three o’clock when the judge, the at-
torneys, and the court officers came in, and court was
called to order. -

By this time the big court-room was crowded. to suffoca-
tion. i

It. was a scene not easily forgotten.

The face of every man in the room was_pale and anx-
ious, and the silence at times was oppressive.

The prisoner when brought in appeared to be the coolest
man in the court-room.

Half an hour later the j
agreed on a verdict. —

There was no outward sign of excitement in the crowd
when the message was delivered, but many faces turned
a trifle paler and many eyes were turned to the door of
the jury-room.

Every one wanted to catch a glimpse of the jurors as
they came out, believing that they could read the verdict
in the faces of the twelve men.

With great difficulty, the jury, guarded by officers,
made their way through the crowd to the jury-box.

“Gentlemen, have you agreed on a verdict?” asked
the judge, when the jurors were seated.

“We have, your honor!” answered the foreman.

The fall of a pin might have been heard in every part
of the court-room, so intense was the silence; men hold-
ing their breath for fear they would miss a word.

Seconds seemed almost hours, so great was the sup-
pressed excitement, so intense the feeling of every one.

“Let the prisoner stand up!” said the judge, and Dick
Hawes slowly rose to his feet, and faced the twelve men
in the jury-box. c= smear geuatnes:

Not a muscle of his face moved, and he was to all out-
ward appearances entirely calm and cool.

“The clerk will read the verdict,” said the judge, in
the same quiet tone of voice.

The clerk of the court stepped forward, and took a slip
of paper from the hand of the foreman of the jury.

With trembling hands he opened it, and read:

“We the jury find the defendant guilty of murder in
the first degree, as charged in the indictment.”

Then the long suppressed feeling of the spectators broke
forth, and the vague threat that no one had dared voice
was made plain.

“That’s all right,” said hundreds of men in chorus.
They spoke in audible tones, and every one understood
what. might have happened if the verdict had been dif-
ferent.

Without waiting for other formalities the spectators
rushed from the court-room to get out into the open air
where they could breathe freely...

ury sent word that they had

The long strain had been all they could bear. e od
The jury was polled at the request of the defense, and f

a short time as the prisoner was led back to the jail. —

CHAPTER XVI.

NEW DEVELOPMENTS IN THE MYSTERY ..

|

Dick Hawes received the verdict of guilty without a
tremor, and went back to his cell without a word.
vite made no complaint, and many persons who had be-
lieved in his guilt when they saw him after the verdict
began to wonder if this cool, quiet man could really be —
the Strangler.

There was areaction in public feeling to a certain ex-
tent after the conviction and sentence of Hawes, and peo- |
ple began to wonder when the mystery of the case would —
be fully cleared up.

The attorneys for Hawes appealed the case to the
Supreme Court and the public, knowing that it would be
months before the case would be reached, had time t
study the mystery of the affair anew.

All this time the detectives who had taken such a great
interest in the case from the first had been at work ina
quiet way.
| They expected that new clews would be brought out at
| the trial that would give them something to work on, but
|in that they were disappointed, and they had to continue
‘the work on the old lines or find new ones themselves.

They now abandoned all that part of the case relating
to the murder of little May. and gave all their time and
attention to trying to unravel the mystery of the crime in
the cottage, the murder of Mrs. Hawes and the other
child, which were still enveloped in as much mystery al-
most as the day of their discovery.

For atime the detectives worked on the theory that
Fannie Brvant might be the Strangler, that she might
have killed Mrs. Hawes for her meney, but finally they
abandoned all theories and started a search for new facts.

Incidentally to the case they were trying to clear up the
mystery of the death of the other Jack Thomas, and this
was finally accomplished in a most unexpected way.

A negro arrested for a daring highway robbery and
attempted murder confessed that he was the leader of a
band of black robbers and assassins, and that they had
killed the man whose bones had been found on the moun-
tain top.

Robbery had been the motive of the crime.

The negro told all the details, gave the names of th
other members of the gang, and it was then an easy mat-
ter for the officers to get evidence to confirm his story.

The jewelry of the dead man was found in the posses-
gion of the members of the gang when they were arrested,
and then others of them made full confessions, and the re-
sult was that three of them died on the scaffold, another
died in jail, and one went to prison for life.

Public attention for a time overlooked Dick Hawes
after his case had been appealed to the Supreme Court.

His trial had helped the public for a time to forget the
shooting at the jail, and the feeling against Sheriff Smith
was dying out, when an incident occurred to show that it
was not yet dead. Le ae

One day a tall, lank-looking man in the dress of a Texas
cowboy walked into one of the principal saloons of the
town and ordered five fingers of whisky straight.

He drained the glass ata gulp, and setting if down on
the counter laconically ordered ancther.

A second time he drained a glass nearly full of raw
whisky, and then he smacked his lips in a contented way.’

“Does Sheriff Smith—Joe Smith, live in this town 2”
asked the cowboy, leaning over the counter and getting
confidential with the bartender.

“Ves, he lives here.”

“Same Joe Smith that shot all them fellers what tried
to hang that coyote?”

‘‘Yes, he is the sheriff who repulsed the mob at the jail.”

“Then he’s my meat.”

“What do you mean?”

“T come all tne way from Texas to fix him.”

 

Se

 

 

then another chapter in the Hawes mystery was closed for _
 

“To fix him in what way ?”
The cowboy looked at the bartender in a pitying way,
and ordered another glass of whisky. —
“Take one along with me!” said the cowboy.
The barkeeper took a glass of seltzer, which caused the
cowboy to regard him with greater pity.
“This is how I’ll fix him,” said the stranger, drawing a
long pistol from his belt.

ile waved the pistol around in a style that made the
bartender’s flesh creep. :

The cowboy drank a fourth glass of whisky, and then
he got confidential with the bartender, stating he had
come all the way from Texas to kill Sheriff Smith for
shooting into the mob on the night of the Hawes riot.

“Why did you wait so long?” asked the bartender.

“T wanted to give the boys over hereachance. I
thought some of them might in time get up nerve enough
to shoot back, but I got tired waiting, so here I am to do
the job myself.”

The bartender was thoroughly alarmed by this time.

_ He saw that his customer was very much in earnest and
fully meant to shoot Sheriff Smith at sight.

After taking a few more drinks, the cowboy inquired
the way to the sheriff's office.

The bartender sent him away in the direction of the
police station, and, then rushing to a telephone, he in-
formed the police of the presence of the cowboy in town
and the object of his visit.

A squad of policemen were at once sent out to look for
the man from Texas.

They soon found him in another saloon where he had
stopped to give his nerves a further bracing up. He was
arrested and taken to the lock-up where his long pistol
was taken from him, and he was put in a cell] to sober up.

He was much surprised by his arrest, and said that no
one in Alabama knew how to appreciate a man with
nerve. :

By morning the blood-thirsty cowboy was sober, and he
agreed to go back to Texas and let Sheriff Smith live, if

none of them knew who had sent the stuff to the prisoner. —

Hawes could kill himself with morphine, but he could
not get out of jail with it, so the sheriff ordered the entire
jail searched. . as

The prisoner all this time was kept in ignorance of the
suspicion against him.

However, he was placed in anot
of the jail was continued.

At last the searchers were rewarded. .
Carefully concealed in one of the corridors of the jail,
where no one would think of looking in an ordinary
search, the officers found a sharp file and a bottle of acid.
-Further search revealed two iron barsin one of the
windows of the outside wall of the jail that had been
sawed through.

One man could easily remove t
to liberty would be clear.

It was evident that Hawes had not made an idle boast
when he wrote to his wife that she might see him ina
week.

But that letter was all the evidence the. sheriff had to
connect Dick Hawes with the attempt to get out of jail.

He was charged with being the owner of the file, and
the acid, but denied it, and, also denied that he had made
any attempt to, get out of jail, or had any intention of
doing so.

Nothing could shake his story, and the sheriff had to
content himself with keeping a close watch on the pris-
oner.

What the sheriff wanted to do now was to: find the man
who smuggled the things into the jail.

But could this be done?

her cell while the seareh

hem, and then his way

CHAPTER XVII.
DICK HAWES TELLS A NEW STORY.

All the prisoners in the jail were watched for a time to

 

the volice would give him back his pistol.

On these conditions he was allowed to depart.

For a long time Dick Hawes wrote no letters to the
young woman he had married so soon after the murder of ;
his family.

When he hande
sealed letter to the young woman, the sheriff was in-
formed of the matter, and he decided at once to open the
communication. o |

He haa several reasons for this, one of them being the)
fact that the prisoner had recently been acting a little,
strangely and had been very silent on all subjects, refus- |
ing to talk with any one. |

The sheriff believed he was up to some trick, and when |
he opened the letter his suspicions were confirmed.

The letter was very brief :

d to the jailer one day a carefully |

“My Dear, Dantinc Wire:—Darling, please don’t forget me or lose
hope of seeing me. I have some good friends who have not forgotten
me. Iam well fixed now. You may expect to see me at almost any
time after a week from this date. Yours until death, Dick.”

After reading the letter, the sheriff quickly came to the
conclusion that Hawes was planning an escape from jail.

His statement in the letter that he was well fixed now,
led the sheriff to believe that Hawes had been supplied
with something that would help him to get out of jail.

He accordingly sent for Hawes, and had him brought:
into the office of the jailer, where he was stripped to the
skin, and thoroughly searched.

Nothing was found on him, but, as an extra precau- |
tion, he was supplied with new clothing.

While the prisoner was being searched in the jail office, |
the deputy sheriffs and keepers made a thorough examina-
tion of his cell.

The mattress was ripped open and, near the middle,
the officers found a small bottle filled with morphine.

No tools or weapons of any kind were fou

The possession of this morphine was enough to convince
the sheriff that Hawes did have some friend on the out-
gide who in some mysterious way had smuggled the drug
to him.

All the guards and keepers were closely questioned, but

 

|
{

nd in the cell. '

see if there had been a plot led by Dick Hawes for a gen-

eral escape.

Many of the prisoners were questioned by the sheriff,
but all said they knew nothing of the file that had been
found, or of the sawing of the bars.

It seemed impossible that any one prisoner could have
done this work without being discovered by some of the
others, but if there was a plot among the prisoners they
kept the secret well. ‘

[he sheriff was unable to find out anything from them,
except that one man said he had once heard Hawes say
that he would never die on the gallows.

This rémark had been made soon after his arrest, and
no attention was paid to it at the time, as all new prisoners _
were in the habit of talking that way.

The sheriff tried every means in his.power to find who it
was on the outside of the jail that was in such secret
communication with Dick Hawes, for the sheriff had no
doubt that his famous prisoner was the one who had sawed
through the bars of one of the windows.

The prisoner had relatives and friends, who sometimes
visited him, and sent him presents.

Up to this time none of them had been suspected by the
officers at the jail, but now a strict watch was kept on
them, and no article was sent in to the prisoner until it
had been carefully examined.

One day a messenger boy walked into the office of the
jailer, put a small bundle on a table, and walked out
without a word.

The jailer was busy at the time and paid no attention.

‘to the boy. But when the latter was gone it struck the

jailer that he had acted rather strangely, and without
‘waiting to examine the bundle, he ran to the door to look
| for the boy.
| He caught a glimpse of the lad far down the street, and
‘saw him joined by a woman who wore a black vail.

Then the jailer went back to examine the package that
had been left by the boy.

He saw that it was address
writing of a woman.

The package was opened, and c
presence of the sheriff.

ed to Dick Hawes in the hand-

arefully examined in the

 
il IBRARY.

 

 

aq It never reached the man for whom it was intended,
and every effort was made to find the boy who brought it
without success.

A few weeks afterward a woman dressed in black and
elosely vailed came to the jail office one day, and asked
if she could see Dick Hawes.

She was asked to wait, and the sheriff was sent for.

He questioned the woman closely when he came, be-
cause he suspected that she was the one who had sent the
package by the messenger boy some time before.

“You want to see Dick Hawes?” the sheriff asked.

“Yes, that is why I came here.”

“Will you tell me your name ?”

SEN Ge:

“ What is your business with the prisoner ?”

ce cannot tell you.”

“Is he a relative?”

fNO: bp)

““ Have you been here ne see him before ?”

66 No. 99

“ Have you been writing to him?”

The woman did not answer.

“He is a friend of yours, I suppose?”
eam has fiend. 5

“Did you bring anything for him ?”

“No; you can search me, if you wish.”

“Do you think he is expecting you?”

“cc No. bp)

“Where do you live?”

Again the woman was silent.

“T will see if the prisoner wants to see you.”

The woman looked up critically at this, but her features
were concealed by her vail, and the sheriff was unable to
see the expression of her face.

Leaving her in the office, he entered the jail, and went
back to the cell occupied hy his famous prisoner.

“Dick, there is a woman in the office who says she
wants to see you,” said the sheriff, and he watched the
face of the prisoner closely.

Hawes looked up without the slightest show of interest
in his face.

“Who is she?” he asked.

“She won’t give her name.”

“What does she want?”

“Sh> won’t tell her business. She says she used to write
to you, and she seems to think that you are expecting a
visit from her.”

“T don’t know who she is.”

The sheriff described the mysterious visitor as well as
he could.

When he had finished the prisoner shook bis head.

“T don’t know her. She is some crank, or a woman
with tracts, I guess. Tell her I don’t want to see her—
that I don’t want to see any one,” said the prisoner, and
he turned back and lay down on his cot with an air of the
utmost indifference.

The sheriff was puzzled.

He expected that the prisoner would betray some know!l-
edge of the mysterious woman, but he was disappointed.

He went back to the office, and told the. woman that
Hawes did not want to see her.

“Then'I cannot see him?” she asked, eagerly.

“Not unless you tell me who oe are and the object of
your visit to him.’

The woman shook her head, and drawing her vail
closer about her face, she arose and left the prison with-
out another word.

The sheriff had her. followed, but in less than an hour
she had thrown the shadow off her track and escaped.

One day when public interest in the Hawes case had ke-
gun to lag a little, there was a commotion about the jail
and the sherifi’s office, which quickly attracted attention.

The sheriff had a secret conference with his attorneys,
and then he was closeted with the judge of the criminal
court for a short time.

Soon a whisper got out that startling developments in:
iThey were not there when I went back ;

the Hawes mystery might be expected at any moment.
’ At the jail and the sheriff’s office every one was silent,

 

No visitors were Atowed to see Dick Hawes, or ‘to com
municate with him in any way. ‘

The brother of the condemned man was in Lowi and
had been in consultation with the sheriff.

This brother had believed in the innocence of Dick, but
he, however, on this occasion had as httle to say as the
sher Lf,

That night the sheriff and two of his trusty deputies left
the city very quietly without telling any one where they
were going, or when they would return.

But every one who had watched their movements be-
lieved that they were on some mission connected with the
Hawes case.

This belief was strengthened when it was learned that
Jim Hawes, the brother of the prisoner, had left the city
on the same train with the sheriff.

By morning a rumor had gotten abroad that Dick Hawes
had told a new story of the disappearance of his family,
and that as aresult the mystery would soon be cleared up.

A few hours later telegrams to the newspapers from
Atlanta announced the arrest in that city by Sheriff Smith
of one John Wyland, charged: with the murder of the
Hawes family.

*

CHAPTER X VIL
HAWES TURNS ACCUSER.

The news of the arrest of John Wyland, charged with
the triple crime of the Strangler, spread like wild-fire.

It startled the public, which had by this time learned to
expect almost anything in connection with this case.

The detectives who had tried so long and so hard to
solve the mystery were dumfounded.

At first no one knew anything of the evidence against
the new prisoner, and they were prepared to believe him
guilty, and to hear that the mystery was at last to be
cleared up to the satisfaction of every one.

A curious crowd, numbering thousands, was at the sta-
tion to meet the sheriff when he came back with his
prisoner.

The public had come to regard Dick Hawes as a man
who stood in the shadow of the gallows, and if something
should happen now to clear his name, it would be in keep-
ing with the surprises that had become fixed features of
the case.

When the sheriff got back with his prisoner, he took
him at once to the jail and locked him up.

Wyland was not allowed to see any one, and his coun-
sel and the sheriff refused to tell the nature of the new
developments in the case, more than to say that Wyland —
was charged with the crime.

Through the prisoner’s attorneys it was learned that he
protested his innocenve, and was to have an early hearing.

Within two days his lawyers got a writ of habeas
corpus as the quickest way of finding out what the evi-
dence against their client was.

The principal witness against him proved to be Dick
Hawes, and his evidence is best told in his own words:

‘Hmma Hawes was my wife, Irene Hawes was my
daughter; she was about seven years old going on eight.
May Hawes was my daughter, she was nearly nine years
old.

“My family was living on Thir ty-scond street near the
old base-ball park. I saw them alive on Saturday, the first
day of December, but not after that night.

“The last time I saw them all there together, J think,
was about nine o’clock Saturday night, or, probably a
little before nine.

“T never saw their bodies after that time, only May,
the oldest child, in the undertaker’s establishment, I
think, that was on the 6th of December, the day after I
was arrested. I did not see the other bodies.

“The Saturday night before, when I saw them all there
together, I brought the little boy away from there, and it
was between one and two o’clock when I went back there.
the house was
empty, the door was open, and no one of the family was

but their faces showed that they were guarding some there.

official secret of more than ordinary importance.

“T never saw any of them after that alive, except May.

 
No. 201

THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY.

23

 

 

I saw her on Sunday there at the house. I staid at the
house nearly all day Sunday. The last time I saw her
alive was on Monday morning. She was at the house on
Sunday night, and went down to Fannie Bryant’s house
on Monday ; that was the last time I saw her.

“T know John Wyland, the defendant; I could not say
exactly how long I have known him; but ever since the
war, nearly—since directly after the war.

“He was railroading, and so was I. He was in Birming-
ham on the 1st of December. I think Atlanta is his home.
I do not know what time he came over here.

‘‘The first time I saw him here was Thursday or Friday,
I cannot say which positively, before the Saturday I
missed my family.

“We were together pretty near all the time; I do not
know what he was doing here, or how he came to be here.

“T talked with him about my family affairs—my pri-
vate plans. I just met him here accidentally ; I don’t
think he had any money, and I don’t know anything of
his trying to borrow any money or anything.

“T had aconversation with him and told him about
what I did. I don’t propose to go into the details of it all
the way through.

“There was trouble all the time between me and my

wife: we had been parted about two years, and I just put)
her down there under the conditions that she take care of |

the children; I wasn’t living with her asa wife at all.

“T had tried to get her to leave the country and go
away from me, and she had agreed to go away.

“T told John Wyland that, and about my contemplated
marriage, which was to take place the next week, and
told him the day.

“T made hima proposition to get Mrs. Hawes off, and
he agreed to get them out of the way.

“T agreed to give him $200 to help get them out of the
way, and he and Fannie Bryant were to do the work.

“T had talked with Fannie Bryant together with John
Wyland on Saturday evening at Fannie’s house; I sup-
pose it was between three and four o’clock.

“Wyland and I came back to town together, and were.

down to Mr. Weil’s until after dark, and I never saw
Wyland any more after I left him there until Monday,

when I met him down town on Second avenue, and was.

with him nearly all Monday evening.

“Monday night I staid at the Florence Hotel. The last
I saw of Wyland was in the Florence Hotel office between
eleven and twelve o’clock on Monday night. When I met
him at Mr. Weil’s store—we didn’t have any talk until
Monday night—he told me he had done the work all right.

“T went out there and saw they were gone and came
back and met him. He told me that on Monday night.

“We started to tell me where he had put them, but I
wouldn’t let him do it.

“T paid him the money in the Florence Hotel office on
Monday night; nobody was present then but us. When
T came in the hotel office, there was a fellow sitting there
with him, but I don’t know who he was.

“When Wyland left a man named Horace Witt came
in, and left the office with him. He came in while we
were sitting there talking, but they left there together.

“Wyland was sitting in the office alone waiting for me
when I wentin. We were sitting behind the stove, and I
paid him the money there. Wyland and Witt were well
acquainted. Witt was not there when I handed him the
money.

“Wyland just told me he had got them out of the way,
and done the job. He started to tell me the whole thing,

but I fold him I didn’t want to hear it, and when I was)

arrested, I did not know where the bodies were.

“The last time I saw May Hawes was at my house on
Monday morning with Fannie Bryant. I never saw Fan-
nie Bryant any more that day.

“Wannie Bryant was all right from Saturday night to

Monday ; I didn’t see anything wrong with her; she was)

sober, apparently. I never had any talk with Wyland
after that to amount to anything.

“T paid him every bit in greenbacks. I never saw him
after he went out of the Florence Hotel office on that
Monday night until I met him in jail.

“T slept at the Florence Hotel that Monday night, and
took the train for Columbus the next morning.

_ “There is nothing else I want to state, only I just want
‘to say here to the newspaper men that the alleged con-
ifession in the paper the other day was all false; I have
never made a confession to anybody atall. That is, the
one that was published day before yesterday, the one
claimed to have been made to: Dave Smith; what I told
Joe Smith and Jim Hawes is the only thing I ever told
anybody.

“That is all I have ever said about it in the nature of a
confession.

“T don’t know how Fannie Bryant came in possession
ot the things found at her house, the pictures, oil cloth,
pillow slips, etc. She took about all the things out of
Emma’s trunk that Saturday ; I don’t know what she got
out of there; she got them out some time while I was
away from there.

“Fannie must have got a silk dress my wife had; there
were two nice dresses in the trunk. She had a black silk
and another nice dress, and they were both gone. I guess
she got them.

“T never spoke to Fannie Bryant while I was in jail.

“JT did not see Dag Gordon until after I got off the train
at the Belt Railroad crossing that Saturday night. I was
in the sleeper, and when I got off there he got off one of
the coaches; we sat there on the crossing talking for sev-
eral hours. He and I were not talking about my family
affairs. I don’t know whether Wyland ever saw Dag Gor-
don, or Gordon ever saw him.”

When cross-examined, Hawes said :

“T couldn’t say positively whether it was Thursday or
Friday that I first saw Wyland in Birmingham, but it
was eicher oneor the other. I don’t remember what
time of day it was; I couldn’t say whether it was Thurs-
day evening or Friday morning I methim. I met him
first, I think, at Dan Brennen’s, somewhere down on First
avenue, and the last time I saw him was on Monday night
at the Florence Hotel, between eleven and twelve o’clock.

“Tt was about dinner time on'Saturday that I spoke to
him about my troubles. It was where Grambling stays,
at Hochstadter’s. We went in there to get something.

“T borrowed a dollar from Mr. Grambling. I didn’t ex-
actly borrow it; I had a check, and tried to get him to
cash it, and he said he couldn’t cash it, but if I wanted
lany money he would let me have all I wanted.

“No one was present with Wyland and me when we had
‘the talk. I told him what I wanted. I stated to him just
‘what kind of a situation I was in; that my wife had
‘promised, to go away, but when her time came she re-
fused to do it.
| “Tt was on Thursday, [ think, that she refused.
‘to be married the following week afterward.

“Twas going to take the children off to the convent
school at Selma. ;

“The Catholic priest over here had made arrangements
for me to carry them there—Father O’Reilley. It was at
Selma. I told everybody I carried them to Mobile, but it
was not a fact. I don’t know whether I told Father
O’Reilley the children had no mother or not; if I did I
don’t recollect it. "

“T did not tell Wyland what I wanted done with them,
but that I just wanted them got out of the way. That cid
/not include my little son. I was going to send him to my
brother. That included the girls.

“T was with Wyland all that Saturday evening, until
about seven o’clock, I reckon it was. When I left him I
went out to the house, staid there about an hour, got the
little boy, and brought him back to town, getting there
about seven o’clock—to the house.

“T remained there until between eight and nine o’clock,
and when I came to town I brought the little boy with
me. When I left my family was there.

“T gent my son off on the train that left here at eleven
o’clock, and I rode out on the train with him to opposite
the Sloss Furnace, to what they call the Belt Road cross-
ling, and got off there. J rode out with my son on the
train, but never saw Wyland any more.

“T met Dag Gordon there, near about twelve o’clock on
| Saturday night. While I was sitting there on the railroad
liron talking to Dag Gordon a fellow passed by us there ;
, his name was ——
“T had known him before; he was working on the same

 

I was

 

 
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road with me; he spoke to me. I don’t think he asked
me why we were there at that time of night, I don’t
recollect the conversation we had with him, he never
talked but just a few minutes.

“J never told him in reply to a question by him not to
tell any one that he had seen me and Dag Gordon there at
that time of the night, nor anything of the kind.

“Dag Gordon and I sat there until about one o'clock.

“Prom there I went over to the house. I found no one
there. There was nothing in the house at that time except
two beds. Everything had been moved out of the house
except them. They were on the floor. When I went back
to the house it was all in disorder, and everything was
gone from it. I made no examination of it, only the
trunks: the bedsteads were not there at all. When I got
there I didn’t know where May was, but I knew after-
ward: she staid at Fannie Bryant’s house that night.

“T didn’t go away from the house that night at aJl after
I got back. May got back to the house early the next
morning, which was Sunday. Fannie brought her up
there.

“T said nothing to Fannie about my wife and children,
not a word. She did not ask me what had become of
Emma and Irene. She came into the room where I was
lying after she cooked breakfast; she cooked it, and
brought it in to me.

“JT had no curiosity to know what had become of Emma

‘and the children.

“Before I left Birmingham my wife had 1un me in debt
some, but I didn’t know how much.

“T came to Birmingham with May Hawes, but could
not tell exactly what time it was; I think, though, it was
after seven o’clock. I left her with Fannie Bryant all
day Monday, and never saw her from Monday morning to
Monday night.

“There was no such conversation between Fannie and
me to the effect that May was crying during all the day ;
that Fannie asked her what was the matter and May told
her that her mother and Irene were killed.

“TF refuse to answer what I did with May when I
brought her to town. I brought her to the Twenty-second
street bridge, and—well, I won’t say anything more.

“Ag to how she was disposed of I think she was
drowned ; I couldn’t say positive; I didn’t say she was
chloroformed.

“T never made any statement to my brother, Jim
Hawes, and Joe Smith, except that I had hired Wyland
to get them out of the way. ns

“T didn’t tell them that Fannie Bryant had nothing to
do with it, but that she was implicated in it.

“In reference to the letters 1 wrote my wife, I don’t
care to read them, but there is one thing in them I know
is not correct, and that is what I say about Wyland.

“ Ag to contemplating suicide, I had nothing to suicide
with, I had no idea of it.”

There was little evidence offered by the defense at the
habeas corpus trial of Wyland beyond the proving OL a
good character for the prisoner.

No one believed the story told by Dick Hawes, for sev-
eral reasons.

Little facts that had come to light from time to time, as
the detectives had worked on the case, now had.a direct
bearing on the case against Wyland.

It was shown that he was not in the city or State when
the detectives first visited the blood-stained cottage.

So he could not have been the man who went there be-
tween the visits of the detectives and washed the blood
stains from the floor.

The mystery was yet unsolved, because it was clear that
some one interested in concealing the crime had not yet
beeen found.

Then no one believed that Wyland, or any other mar,
would agree to put an entire family out of the way for the
small sum of two hundred dollars.

Human life was not yet so cheap.

Another weak point in the new story told by Hawes was
that he did not charge Wyland with the murder of little
May.

If he had hired him to put the family out of the way, it
was reasonable to suppose that he would not have paid

 

 

the money agreed on until he had evidence that the job
had been completed. :

Those who heard the story told by the prisoner on the
witness-stand were inclined to believe that some new
mystery was about to be added to the case.

When the testimony was closed the judge did not hesi-
tate a moment.

John Wyland was discharged, and the mystery of the
Hawes case was no nearer a solution than before, except
that it was now settled in.the mind of the public that
Hawes himself had strangled little May, of whose murder
he had been convicted.

Many persons believed that he had hired some one to
kill his wife and the other child, and if that man could be
Sia the mystery of the Hawes case might at last be
solved.

CHAPTER XIX.
THE CONVICTION OF FANNIE BRYANT.

Held first as a witness against Dick Hawes and later
indicted for the murder of his wife, Fannie Bryant for a
long time did not share public attention with him to any
extent.

The officers who had worked on the case from the first
were all of the opinion that this woman knew the secret
of the Hawes murder mystery, but all their efforts to get
her to tell were of no avail.

The woman knew how to hold her tongue.

She told one story when she was arrested, and she stuck
to that to the end.

It was represented to her that if she would turn State’s
evidence and clear up the mystery it would be better for
her, and even if she convicted herself she would get off
with a light sentence.

To all such propositions she simply answered, ‘‘I have
ae all T know about the case, and ‘have nothing more to
tell.”

Some of the dresses of Mrs. Hawes and other articles
that had belonged to the dead woman were found in tke
possession of Fannie Bryant, or rather in the house when

‘it was searched. 4

This was regarded as the most important evidence
against her, unless it was her own story that she had kept
May Hawes at her house two days before the latter was
murdered.

When other features of the mystery began to lag, and
the public was eager for some new sensation in connec-
ae with the case, Fannie Bryant was put on trial for her

ife.

‘The woman had a good lawyer, and it was predicted
that she could not be convicted on the évidence against
her, or at least the evidence known to the public.

Just before the case against the woman was called for
trial a rumor got abroad that she had confessed the crime
to her lawyer.

This aroused interest in the case to the highest pitch.

A strangling of women and children was interesting, but
if the Strangler should prove to be a woman it would be
doubly so, and the court-room was as crowded at this trial
as it had been at the trial of Hawes.

A jury was secured without trouble, and the prosecu-
tion called the coroner and other witnesses to prove the
murder of Mrs. Hawes, to establish her identity, and other
formal points of the case.

Then they put Dick Hawes on the stand, and he told
over again the story of leaving his wife and girls at the
cottage on the fatal Saturday night after giving his wife
five hundred dollars, and then of going back there and
finding them gone on Sunday.

There was other testimony to show that the prisoner
had visited Mrs. Hawes often and was familiar with the
house and with the affairs of the dead woman.

Then came the detectives who had dragged the body of
the murdered woman from the bottom of the lake.

They were asked to describe the iron weights that had
held the body on the bottom.

This they did in detail, and when the irons ‘in question
were brought into court they easily identified them.

Soon the spectators began to prick up their ears and

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listen for the sensational testimony that was expected to

follow.

They did not have long to wait.

“ENa Coombs!” called the prosecuting attorney, and an
honest looking old colored woman walked forward and

_ ‘took the witness-stand.

After the usual formal questions as to her name and
_where she lived the prosecuting attorney a:

“Do you know Faunie Bryant?”

(79 I do. bb)

“How long have you known her ?”’

“More than two years.”

“Do you see and recognize her in the court-room ?”

“Of course I do. What do you want to be axin’ me
foolish questions like dat for? Course I sees the woman
an’ knows her, too.”

There was a smile at the expense of the attorney, and
he put the witness in a good humor by explaining that the
question was a mere formal one, and was intended to
make her identification of the prisoner so complete that
there could be no question about it.

' ‘When did you last see Fannie Bryant?”
“On de Friday ’fore Mrs. Hawes was killed.”
“Where did you see her that day ?”
“Down by the railroad.”
“What do you mean by down by the railroad 2”
“Why, de railroad runs along ’twixt her house an’

mine, and it was down dar dat I saw her.”

“What time of day was that?”

“ About sundown.”

“ What was she doing when you saw her down there?”

“*Picking up iron.”

“What kind of iron?”

“Old fishbars and scraps of iron the railroad men had
thrown away.”

“What was she doing with the iron she picked up?”

“She was putting it in a bag.”

‘‘How many pieces did you see her pick up?”

“Four or five. I know there was as much as she could
tote off, and it was all she could do to get it on her shoul-
der.”

“ Were you close to her?”

“Right on her ’fore she seed me.”

“What did she do when she saw you ?”

‘‘She dropped the piece of iron she had in her hand and
tried to hide the bag. She looked skeered, I tell you,
when she seed me there.”

“ What did she say when she saw you?”

-“T asked her what she was going to do with the iron,
and she said it was none of my business, and that I had
better go along and not be meddlin’.”

“What did you say ? ee

“T told her I wa’n’t meddlin’, that I had just as mach
right on them grounds as she had. i

“Then what did she say ?”
| “She asked me not to say anything about seeing her

- there picking up the iron.”

“What did you tell her?”

“T gaid it wa’n't none of my business how much of the
railroad company’s iron she toted off.”

“Then what did she say ?”

“Why, she said, ‘Look here, nigger, if you ever tell
anybody you seed me Gown here pickin’ up this iron [ll
Dat’s what she said.”

“Then what did you do?”

“T just went along about my business when she said
that.”

“Did you look back after you started away ?”

“Of course I looked back. I wanted to see what she was
going to do with that old iron.’

“What did she do with it?”

“She put the bag full of it on her: shoulder, and carried
1f Oil.

“Where did she carry ib! a

“To her house.”

“Would you know the iron you saw her pick up if you
should see it again ?”

“Of course I would.”

The prosecuting attorney uncovered the pile’ of rusty

- blood- stained iron that had been bound about the bodies

1s

 

‘of Mrs. Hawes and little Irene Aieloce they were thrown
into the lake, and asked the witness to look at them.

“Dat’s it! Dat’s it! Dem’s the same irons!” cried the
witness, excitedly, leaping out of the witness-chair and
leaning forward to get a better view of the gruesome
things.

There was a sensation in the room for a moment which
was decidedly increased when the prisoner leaped to her
feet and pointing her finger at the witness cried :

“That’s a lie, and you know it!”

For a moment the prisoner struggled to get at the wit-
ness who had given such damaging testimony against her,
and there was.a scene of wild confusion in the court-room.

It was some time before the officers. succeeded in get-
ting order fully restored so the trial could proceed.

In this case sensations were developing quite as fast as
the spectators haa anticipated.

The next witness called by the prosecution was Julia
Moore, a woman who had been in jail some time on some
trivial charge.

‘In the jail she had occasionally come in contact with
Fannie Bryant.

When this fact was brought out by a few preliminary
questions the spectators again pressed forward in antici-
pation of more sensational testimony.

‘“You know the prisoner, Fannie Bryant?”

“Ves. bP)

“You*thave been in jail with her?”

i Ves.

“Did you talk much with her ?”’

“Yes, she talked to me much of the time.”

“Did she ever talk to you about the Hawes case ?”

SN og

“What did she say about it?”

“She said he ought to be hung ifthe was guilty, and
that he was a fool anyway, to get caught.”

“What else did she say about the case?”

‘*‘T can’t remember all she said.”

“Did she ever talk to you about May Hawes?”

“Yes, she often talked about May’and the time the girl
staid at her house.”

“ What did she say about the girl?”

“She used to tell me things the girl said to her.”

‘“‘What was it the girl said to her?”

‘‘T don’t remembr all of it. She told me a lot the girl
said to her.”

“Well, tell us all you remember of it.”

“ She said the girl knew too much.”

“Knew too much about what?”

“ About the killing of her mother, I guess. Fannie said.
that May cried nearly all the time she was at her house,
and kept saying that her mother and Irene had been
killed.” .

“Did she say who killed them 2”

“Fannie did not tell me that. She said she guessed the
kid had to go because she knew too much and would
talk.”

‘‘Did she tell you who killed May 2?”

“No, she said Mr. Hawes took her away, and that was
all she knew about it.”

“Did she say who killed Mrs. Hawes?”

“No, she would not tell me that.”

“From what she told you do you think she knows who
did kill Mrs. Hawes ?”

“T guess she knows lots more about the case than she
ever told me or any one else.”

A rigid cross-examination of these witnesses failed to
shake their important testimony.

Following the woman Julia Moore the prosecution
ealled a man who had for a time occupied a cell in the jail
with Dick Hawes.

“Did you ever hear Dick Hawes speak of Fannie
Bryant?” he was asked.

“Yes, I heard him speak of her once.’

«What did he say?”

‘‘He said, ‘Fannie Bryant is a fool, end has sot. us all
in trouble by talking too much.’ ”

“Was that all he said about her?” 7

“That was all.”

The defense had little testimony to offer, and the jury
was out only a short time.

 
THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY.

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They brought in a verdict of guilty of murder in the
first degree, and fixed the punishment at imprisonment
for life.

The prisoner broke down in a fit of hysterical weeping,
and had to be carried from the court-room.

CHAPTER XxX.
DICK HAWES DOOMED.
As long as there was a straw to which he could cling

Dick Hawes at times appeared very cheerful and hopeful.
While the appeal of his case to the Supreme Court was

pending he expressed the belief many times that the ver-.

dict of the jury would be reversed, that he would get a
new trial, and be acquitted.

There were rumors that he had confessed ; but prior to
the time he made the charge against Wyland, when asked
about the rumors he would always answer that he had
nothing to confess.

At last the appeal in the Hawes case reached its turn in
the Supreme Court, and the learned judges started in to
read the record of the trial.

It was some time before their opinion was reddy, and
the people of the entire State were eagerly waiting for the
news of the decision.

The Hawes case had begun to pall on the public mind.

Many men had decided that all of the mystery would
never be cleared up.

They thought that if some one suffered for the crimes of
the Strangler they could forget the case that had so long
occupied public attention.

In addition to the lawyers interested in the case hun-
dreds of men from Birmingham and other parts of the
State went to the capital on the day that the decision of
the Supreme Court was to be handed down.

Every one was anxious to know what it could be, and
the secret had been well guarded.

No one except the judges who wrote the opinion knew
what the decision would be until it was announced in the
court-room.

The action of the lower court was affirmed on every
point, and Dick Hawes was doomed to die.

' February 28, 1890, was fixed as the day of execution.

Dick Hawes was alone in his cell when the sheriff came
to bring him the news that he must die.

“Dick, your case has been decided by the Supreme
Court,” said the sheriff, quietly.

“Well, how did they decide it?” asked the prisoner,
looking up without moving a muscle of his face or show-
ing more than an indifferent interest in the news.

“Tt is against you, Dick.”

“Oh, well, I expected that.”

“You were prepared for it then?”

The prisoner was silent for a moment and then looking
up with a little show of interest he said, quietly :

“¢There is many a slip between the cup and lip.’
not hung yet.”

Then he turned around and lay down on his cot, ap-
parently as little concerned as if he had only been in-
formed of the condition of the weather.

A few hours after the news of the decision of the
Supreme Court was made public in Birmingham a sealed
note addressed to Dick Hawes was received at the jail,
which the sheriff opened and read.

Iam

‘Dear Dick :—Be of good cheer. You are not dead yet, and I will

never desert you.”

No name was signed to the note, which was written in
a woman’s hand, but the sheriff was of the opinion that it
eame from the mysterious woman in black who had once
called to see him.

He took the note in to the prisoner, and watched the
face of the latter closely as he read it.

When he had finished the note Hawes glanced up with
‘ust the trace of a smile on his face, and said:

“ Well, that is encouraging.”

“Do you know the woman who sent the note ?” asked

the sheriff.

“No; I guess she is some crank,” answered the prisoner.

The sheriff did not believe he meant what he said. The
mystery ot this woman he believed was a part of the mys-
tery of the Hawes case, as yet unsolved.

But the woman in black did not come to the jail again, —
and what her relations to the prisoner may have been is —
one of the mysteries of the case that remains unsolved to
this day. cae

Throughout all the time that the appeal in the Hawes —
case had been pending, the detectives who had been on the —
case from the first had continued their efforts to find some
trace of the unknown person who had washed the blood —
stains from the floor of the Hawes cottage, but all their
efforts proved unavailing. an ‘

Nearly every one now believed that Hawes himself was
responsible for the death of his wife and children, but
even if he was, the mystery of the case would remain un-
solved until the party who did the bloody work for him or
helped him was found. :

There was yet no positive evidence as to the identity of .
the real Strangler. ae

But when Dick Hawes’ doom was sealed by the highest
court in the State the public began to lose interest in the
mystery of the case, and many believed that at the last
moment Hawes would make a true confession, if he was
guilty, and disclose the identity of the Strangler.

Ministers of the gospel came to see the famous prisoner
as the day fixed for his execution approached, but at first
he did not appear to care for their visits.

It was plain that he had not yet lost hope, and it looked
as if he expected help of some kind from a friend on the
outside.

This caused many persons to believe that the real
Strangler would turn up in some sensational manner at
the Jast moment.

With the public wondering what would happen next
and the sheriff going ahead with his arrangements for the
execution, the days grew into weeks until the day on
which Hawes was doomed to die approached.

CHAPTER XXI.
IN THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

The time set tor the execution of Dick Hawes was only

 

twenty-four hours off, and still nothing had transpired to
throw new light on the mystery that still hung over the
crimes of the Strangler.

There were still a few persons who believed that Dick
Hawes was not the man who had strangled his wife and |
children. /

But at last the doomed man had given up hope of rescue,
if he ever had any, and turned to look death squarely in
the face.

He received the preachers gladly, now, and joined
them in the prayers they offered for his soul.

During the last day and night of his existence there

were many pathetic incidents connected with him and his — :

case.
During his long confinement in jail he often spokeof
his boy, the only child left alive, and his brother, who
had charge of the child, brought him to see the doomed ~
man the day before he was to die.
Only half a dozen people witnessed the pathetic inci-
dent—a scene that would have moved a heart of stone.
Hawes and his little boy had not met since the Friday
night before the crime, when Dick kissed his boy good-by
at the depot and left him with his brother Jim, who took
him to Atlanta that night. i ,,
Dick Hawes did not ask to see his child. Only a few
months before, he said : ; 5
“T would rather see Willie dead than for him to see me
here.”

It seems that Jim Hawes and Sheriff Smith thought that _ :
atthe last moment Dick might want to see his boy, so a

they had him brought over. . a
When told that his boy was here a faint smile lit up the ©

 

features of the condemned man, and he said he would be oe
glad to see him. PO ee

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At three o'clock in the afternoon a carriage was driven

up to the door of thé jail. ‘

In the carriage were Jim Hawes, his wife, and Dick’s

little boy. Jim Hawes hurried into the sheriff's office

where he found Sheriff Smith waiting for him.
They assisted Mrs. Hawes and the child from the car-

_ riage, and the little party entered the jail and were shown

at once to Dick’s cell.

vs Papa ee

“Willie, my hoy ; my poor boy !”

The child was clasped in the arms of his father for a
ae embrace while kisses and tears were rained on his

ace.

Little Willie, a bright-looking, curly-haired boy, had
never been told the story of his father’s crimes, and to
him the fate of his absent mother and sisters was un-
known.

In Dick Hawes the innocent childish eyes saw no _ hid-
eous crvel monster, whose hands were reeking with the
blood of those who should have been near. and dear to
him—they saw only the kind and loving father.

The little one prattled on in childish glee, happy at see-
ing the long-absent papa again until the tears came in the
eyes of the doomed man and trickled down his cheeks, to
be brushed away by Willie’s hands.

“Why are you crying, papa; what are you all crying
about?” asked Willie, as in childish wonder he looked
from face to face and saw tears streaming from every eve.

With his arms’ clasped about his child, Dick talked for
awhile to Jim and his wife.

He thanked them for all their kindness to himself and
Wille, and then they arranged about the boy’s future.

Dick wanted him sent to his mother’s relatives out in
Colorado, and it was arranged that Jim should take him
there as soon as possible.

“It will be best; 1 think,” Dick said. “Out there he
may never hear the awful story—he will be beyond the
shadow of these crimes and my awful fate, and may God,
in His mercy, grant that the boy may grow up a good and
happy man, and that he may never, in years to come, be
pointed out to strangers as the child of Dick Hawes.”

Foran hour the little party remained in the cell, and
then came the final parting.

The big clock up in the court-house tower struck the

: hour of four.

The rain pattered on the roof of the jail as though the
heavens wept that there should be such a scene—such sin

\and sorrow on earth—and the clouds grew dark—dark as
that unknown future which Dick Hawes was so soon to
- enter.

The parting was a lingering one. The man broke down,
and the pent-up flood of tears flowed at last.
“My boy, my boy!” he cried, and sobbing aloud, he

os pressed the child to his heart again and again.

PS

“Good-by, Willie, good-by, and may God protect you.

“Be a good boy, Willie, be a good boy, and now kiss me
good-by ; you will never see papa again.”

Then there was a last embrace between the brothers,
and between his sobs Dick said :

“You will keep your promise, Jim, and bury me by
dear mother’s grave—and the boy, Jim, don’t let him
know—send him away where he will never know—good-
by, Jim, good-by.” See

As the shadows of evening crept through the barred
windows, and the faces of the loved ones, pinched by sor-
row and wet with tears, turned for a last lingering look,
the heavy iron door of the cell closed, the key grated
harshly in the lock, and Dick Hawes was alone with the
death-watch. ;

The roar of the rain-storm and the rumble of thunder
drowned the sound of the footsteps of the weary death-.

watch who faced the cell of the condemned man, but now
and then above the harsher sounds of the discordant ele-

ments without, could be heard the voice of Dick Hawes

m as. on bended knees, he prayed to God for mercy.

- Perhaps the doomed man may have seen a vision of his
ittle child kneeling by the cold, dark water of. the lake,
d with hands clasped praying to him to spare her inno-
nt life—or the flash of the lightning may have revealed
him the blood-stained form of the other child, or of

 

Whatever may have been his visions of the past or the
future, he prayed for mercy as man never prayed before.

The excitement of the parting with his nearest and
dearest friends had passed away, and the condemned man
was calm again—as calm as when he heard without 4
tremor of lip or eye, the words “you shall be hung by the
neck until dead.”

The big clock up in the tower tolled the passing hours
—eight—nine—ten—eleven—midnight, and still in that
darkened cell Dick Hawes, in a steady, hopeful voice con-
tinued his supplications for mercy.

At last he grew weary, and after a few turns around
his cell and a cheerful “ good-night” to the death-watch,
Dick Hawes !ay down on his bunk and slept soundly until
morning.

4
CHAPTER XXII.

HAWES DIES ON THE GALLOWS.

The vailof mystery that had hung over the Hawes
murders was not lifted to the public before the execution
of Dick Hawes, as so many persons expected it would be.

Two ministers were with the doomed man several hours,
the morning of the day of execution, and to them he said:

‘‘T am ready to die, and I hope to be saved. I know I
deserve nothing but eternal punishment, but still I hope
for mercy. Iam guiltv. I did not kill my wife and chil-
dren, but I employed others to do it for me, and I know
that my guilt is just as great as though I had struck the
fatal blows with my own hands.

“People may think I killed them, but here in the
shadow of the gallows, with only a few more hours to
live, I tell you I did not harm a hair of their heads mvy-
self.

“T have made a full confession ; I have told everything,
and I have told the truth, so help me God.

“T wrote that confession calmly and deliberately, and
in the best language I could command. Itis in the hands
of a friend and will be made public when I am dead.
That confession is a true one.

“T have been reading my Bible and praying, and I am
ready and willing to die.

“No one will ever know, no man can imagine how I re-
gret what I have done.

' “Tooking back over the last six years of my life, I re-
gret that Ilived. If by living these years over again I
could walk out of this jail a free man, I would not do it.

“T would rather die than suffer all the torture again.
The woman I married at Columbus I loved no one knows
how much.”

When the ministers were ready to leave, Hawes was
still cheerful, and he asked Dr. Purser and Dr. Slaughter
if they would come back and stay with him to the end.
They promised him they would and then they left him.

At early dawn the crowds began to gather in the vicin-
ity of the court-house and jail.

Hundreds of people from outside the city, some of them
from a great distance, had come in during the night
thinking that in some way they might be able to catch
one glimpse of the prisoner before he was hung.

Having nothing else to do these turned their faces to-
ward the jail at an early hour trying to secure seats or
standing room at the best points of observation.

.The corridors of the court-house, the alley leading to
the jail, and all adjacent street corners were crowded
early.

esate stood in groups of three, four, and sometimes
twenty, and the one subject of discussion was Dick
Hawes, his crimes, and his approaching execution,

Whenever adeputy sheriff or court official appeared,
he was quickly surrounded by the eager crowds who
wanted to know if there was not some way of getting 4
pass to the hanging. :

-All the forenoon the door of the sheriff’s office was
swinging toan fro—people coming and going—peering
here and there to see what they could see and asking of
every one they met, “ How is he this morning ?”

PECODLTE OK Od 7

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ava OISOrOe earay TT) Uy Pep ere

 
28
a

a

Nae a

pers, but there was a desperate eagerness visible in every
face.

People talked in subdued voices, but asthe noon hour
drew near and the crowds swelled until every nook and
corner was filled, the suppressed excitement became almost
painful, and men stood and stared at the dark jail walls
for hours as though they thought gomMe mysterious art
would throw on those walls a shadow of the doomed man
and the execution. :

Sheriff Smith could not move a step without being sur-
rounded by the eager, curious crowd. They asked him all
sorts of questions.

Men with passes wanted to know what time they could
get in, and men without passes wanted to know if they
could obtain them for love or money.

By nine o’clock the corridors on the first floor of the
court-houge were densely crowded, and around the
sheriff’s office there was a,compact mass of humanity.

The crowd was rapidly gathering in the jail alley and
on the streets also, and two deputies were sent out with
ropes to make dead lines.

A rope was stretched from the corner of the new jail to
the boiler-room of the court-house.

Then a long rope was stretched from the fence around
the old jail to the north-west corner of the court-house.
This was to be the dead line, and one coincidence about
the name and the place was the subject of many remarks.

The rope was stretched over the spot where the dead
and wounded fell before the terrible fire from the jail on
that fatal 8th of December night.

The line indicated by the white rope, all the circum-
stances considered, could appropriately be called a dead
line.

After the ropes were stretched, a strong guard of dep-
uty sheriffs and policemen was placed at every point to
see that the lines were not crossed by the eager and ex-
cited thousands who surged up against them..

Betore the hour of ten o’clock the crowd in the cor-
ridor of the court-house and about’ the door of the sheriff's

office became so dense it was almost impossible to get

through.
Sheriff Smith was delayed in his preparations, and an-
noyed so much that he finally closed and locked the back

door of the court-house and the door of his private office. |

This served to stimulate the curiosity of the crowd, and
they pressed all the closer against the doors, as though
they thought Dick Hawes himself was on the inside.

At twelve o’clock the newspaper reporters, by climbing
through a window in the basement of the court-house,
reached the jail door, and a few moments later were ad-
mitted tothe yard.

Around at the gallows a rude table had been arranged
for them, and they were soon in position.

At 12:14 Deputy Sheriffs Tom Smith and W. I. Love
and Mr. Edward Griffin, who built the gallows, came out
and placed the rope in position and arranged everything.

At 12:27 Sheriff Smith came around, went up on the
scaffold, and carefully examined everything. He was per-
fectly cool, but felt the responsibility of his position.

During this time those who had tickets had been admit-
ted, and the jail-yard was well filled.

At 12:47 the condemned man was brought around to
the gallows, Sheriff Smith holding one arm and Deputy
Love the other. He walked with a firm step, though his
face was pale.

Hawes was dressed in a black suit, and wore on the
lapel of his coat a very pretty bouquet.

The knot in the rope had been tied, and it was ready
for use.
_ Dr. Purser and Dr. Slaughter, his spiritual advisers,
walked just behind the prisoner. :

At the foot of the gallows the party halted for an in-
stant, and Sheriff Smith called Mr. M.S. Cann, city editor
of the Age-Herald. Mr. Cann went over and talked to the
prisoner for a minute.

Then Hawes walked firmly up the steps to the trap.

“Have you anything to say, Dick?” asked Sheriff
“Smith...

Dc anned to the nt oO pe

scaffold, and looked

THE LOG CABIN LIBRARY.

 

 

NO. 20k.

tremor of his frame could be detected beyond a slight
twitching of his fingers.

He said: “I only want to say to the congregation that I
have written out a full statement of this whole thing, and
itis atrue one. I don’t want any man in the world to
think that I died with a lie on my lips. That is all I have
to say.”

Hawes then stepped back on the trap, and Dr. Slaughter
said, ‘Let us pray.” Heads were uncovered, and the niun-
ister delivered an eloquent prayer for the condemned.

The prayer ended, the minister bade Dick good-by, and
left the scaffold. :

Hawes spoke to Sheriff Smith, who ealled Mr. EH. C..
Bruffey, of the Atlanta Constitution, to the scafiold.

As Bruffey reached the floor of the gallows, Hawes.
turned from the crowd, and stepping forward, met the
man of news. The prisoner’s hand was extended, and
Bruffey grasped it.

“T am glad to see you, Bruffey,” said Hawes, “awful
glad to see you, because I want you to do something for
me.”

“What is it, Dick?” asked Bruffey.

“oe that lam not misrepresented, see that the truth
goes to the world.”

Then the two men, still grasping hands, stepped to the
front of the gallows:

“Remember my boy, Bruffey, and remember my
brother, and see that Iam not misrepresented. You have
always been my friend.” :

Bruffey started away, and Hawes, still holding his hand,
went to the steps with him. Then the two men shook
hands vigorously, Bruffey putting his other hand on
Hawes’ shoulder.

“Good-by, Dick,” said Bruffey, “put your trust in God,
old man, and die brave.”

“My trust is in God,” answered Hawes, “and I want
you to tell the people in my home—and your home—that I
did die brave.”

The two men separated. Bruffey went down the gal- _
lows steps, and Hawes walked under the rope. ‘

Hawes was then bound securely at. the ankles, hand-
cuffed, and his arms pinioned behind.

Several voices in the crowd said : “ Good-by, Dick,” and
to all he answered: ‘“Good-by,” and then added: “ Boys,
let liquor alone.”

When the noose was adjusted he looked down at Mr.

Cann, who was sitting directly in front of him, and said: /

“Cann. don’t misrepresent me when I am dead.”
“T won’t, Dick,” Cann answered. oe
Everything was ready then, and Sheriff Smith stood |

with the black cap in his hand.

“Ask him if there is anything else he wants to say a
said Deputy Tom Smith, ani the sheriff asked the ques-
tion. Gere
“Nothing,” Dick answered, and then he added: **Let
me stand here a minute.” He stood still for a moment,

then the cap was adjusted. Sheriff Smith and Deputy =.

Love bade him good-by and left the scatfold. :
Sheriff Smith went around to the jail window, through
which the trigger rope was placed, and in a firm voice

counted “One, two, three.”

There was the usual dull thud and Dick Hawes hung in
mid-air. The drop fell at 12 :58, his neck was broken, and
he was pronounced dead in seven and a half minutes.
fourteen minutes his body was cut down, and removed to
one of the small rooms at the front of the new jail where
none but physicians were allowed to see it.

Next day the body of Hawes was taken to Atlanta, Ga., -
and quietly buried by the grave of his mother. |

CHAPTER XXIII. |
THE STRANGLER’S CONFESSION. :

There is little more to tell of the Hawes murder case,
some features of which remain a mystery to this day.

Before he died Dick Hawes wrote a confession, in whic}
he told a story of the crime he had never related before.

 

In =]
No. 201.

THE LOG CABIS LIBRARY

ao

 

 

-when he was dead, and was to be sold for the benefit of
his boy.

It was never made public, but remains in the hands of
his brother, who will not let it be published.

Less than a dozen men know the contents of that con-
fession, and all the public ever learned of it was that it
cleared up only a part of the mystery.

Dick Hawes died with a lie on his lips, but he died
game, and even in his-last confession he did not give the
name of the person for whom the detectives hunted in
vain so many months, the person who helped Dick Hawes
get his family out of the way in order that he might
marry Mays Storey.

It was this same person who washed the blood stains
from the floor of the Hawes cottage, while thé detectives
were out following the trail of blood that led to the lake
where the bodies of two of the Strangler’s victims were
found.

The mysterious woman in black who went to the jail to
see Hawes was never seen or heard of after he was ex-
ecuted.

Her identity and her connection with the case are a
mystery that may never be solved.

The sheriff never found out who it was that sent Hawes
the file and acid that came so near getting him out of
jail, and the morphine that might have saved him from
the gallows, if it had not been found in time.

The mysterious Dag Gordon, the man Hawes said was
with him the night of the crime, disappear ed completely.

Fannie Bryant is still in prison, serving out a life sen-
tence.

If she knows more of the crimes than she told before
her trial, she keeps the secret well.

Dick Hawes did not betray his accomplice, and all
efforts to trace the mysterious woman in black failed.

The confession of Hawes furnished no clew to her iden-
tity, but this much of the mystery was cleared up by the
confession that was never published.

Dick Hawes was the Alabama Strangler. |

He killed his wife and children, and some one helped
him in his efforts to put the bodies where they would
never be found.

The name of his accomplice may never be known.

That much of the Hawes case remains a mystery to this
day.

Dick Hawes, the self-confessed Strangler, did not betray
his friend.

(THE END.)

Coot Dan THE Sport’s PLucKY ParpD; or, THE Mascor
OF CREEDE,” by Capt. Lew James, will be published in the
next number (202) of the Log CaBin Liprary.

 

gol Daa te Sports Plucky Part

THE MASCOT OF CREEDR.

By CAPT. LEW JAMES.

CHAPTER I.
A TERROR FROM HEAD-WATERS.

“Oh, I’m a ragin’ terror, frum somewhar nigh ter
head-waters! You hear me, say ?”

The young man shrank back: a trifle, and made no an-
swer. He was new to such scenes, and uncertain what
might really be expected of him.

He had strolled into the Dandy Belle Saloon to take a
look at the elephant, and found it, in bis mind, trunk,
tusks, and all.

He had only intended to kill an hour of time; but be-
fore he had been in the place five minutes it seemed he
stood a very good chance of being killed himself.

A gang of half adozen men were drinking at the bar,
and to say they were “full” would be only doing them
half justice. For a tenderfoot, with a plug hat anda
broadcloth coat, the situation was none of the safest.

The crowd immediately singled him out.

At a low-toned order trom the recognized leader, each
man drew a revolver from the web belt around his waist,
and forming a line which was somewhat straighter than
a worm fence, but scarcely as well dressed as the rear
platoon of a newly organized militia company, they ad-
vanced with a swaggering air, halting directly in front of
the young stranger.

“Oh, yes! I tell yer, I’m Posh Price, ther holy horror
ov Min’ral Hill. Who be you?”

As he spoke the man darted a savage scowl at the
stranger, intended to freeze his blood, and at the same
time dropped the muzzle of his pistol to a level with the
heart of the tenderfoot. .

‘Really, ah—Mr. Price! I am glad to meet you,” stam-
mered the stranger, thinking it best to make some answer
to the demand.

“My name is Allen Audrey, of New York.”

‘Allen Ordray, ov N’Yorruk ! Mizhty Moses! Hev they
many more like yer thar, an’ tharabouts? Et they hev—
this are a blamed ouhealthy locate fur ee Ov your
stamp. Did yer ask wot would we take?”

‘*Really, ah—I hadn’t thought of it; but, ie you are
dry, I should, ah, hate to see you suffer. You may name

| your vanity ”

The stranger was recovering his self-possession, and
was notas much frightened as Posh Price fancied. At
the same time he bad weakened at the first threat.

If he wanted to avoid trouble, it might -have been bet-
ter to have ignored the hint, or flatly refused to stand
treat.

‘He kin talk, pards, so I reckon it’s what goes fur a
man furder Kast. Let’s see wot he makes outen five fingers
ov Billy’s p’ison. Ef he kin down it like'a man, blamed
ef he ain’t free ov ther place, an’ it?s Posh Price ez are
a-shoutin’.”

Allen Audrey. was in for it now. The gang closed
around him, each man letting off a yell that was enough
to wake the dead, and if he had not stepped out briskly,
he would have been hustled off to the bar in short order.

. Hyer we be, an’ hyer’s Billy a-lookin’ at ye. Say it
over, an’ say it tohim nice. It was drinks fur ther crowd
he war Peet back thar, an’ yer needn’t be afeared
he don’t mean it.. He’s jest a-bulgin’ out with ther
duckats.”

Billy, the bartender, looked gravely: at the young man.

He wanted to have no trouble with Posh Price and his
crowd, yet he did not altogether -care to have a stranger
imposed upon in the Dandy Belle, a a nee word would,
help him out. : .

 
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ANO. 202.

 

 

 

Audrey caught the look, but did not understand it. He
simply nodded, and with the air of an expert tumbler-
juggler Billy slung out the glasses.

One after another the gang turned out their whisky—
more or less fingers in the glass as the fancy took them—
until the bottle reached Price. :

With a hand that was none of the steadiest he poured
eut two brimming tumblers, and holding one in his left
hand pushed the other over to the young stranger.

“Drink Learty, pard, an’ hyer’s to us.”

Audrey gave a little, nervous laugh.

“Exeuse me, Mr. Price. I hope the
wasted, but the fact is | never drink.”

6 Bh ey i } :

Short and sharp exploded the question, sounding like
the roar of an angry bear. | Att the statement the six re-
volvers flew out, and every one of them was brought to
bear on the young man.

“JT said I did not drink—I meant whisky, of course. If
it will be any satisfaction to you I will be pleased to go
through the motions, but I will have to take water in
mine.”

- The cold, collected way in which the young man made
the statement was a surprise to more than the Posh Price
erowd. :

liquor will not be

With half.a dozen men, all half-seas over, pointing their :

weapons at him, there was danger in the air, even if their
intentions had been amicable.

’ Every hammer was back ; and it would take but a slight

touch of some careless finger to send him over the range.

“ By ther gosh-all blazes, hyer'sa skull ’thout ary brains
inter it, What yer kim out hyer furef yer are too big ter
hist with ther boys?”

“T came on escort duty, my
drink, gamble, or avoid the sheriff. If I have got myself
involved in:a difficulty it is nothing more than I deserve
for coming in here. I suggest that you down your liquor
betore it gets cold,and then you will hardly be harsh
with the:man at whose expense you have drank.”

“Talks like a dickshunary ; but I.reckon we don’t on-
derstand him. Hyer, kid, down this, an’ then keep yer
clamshell shut tell we see wot’s. tér be did with a man ez
tries ter refuse Billy’s best.”

With one hand he held out the brimming glass; with
the other he kept the shining barrel in line.

“Excuse me, sir, but I prefer not.”

Billy looked anxiously from behind

It was net certain what Price was going to do; and any
gnterference might make his intentions worse. So far he
had done nothing beyond what any tenderfoot might ex-
pect who should wander into that den, dressed after such
a style. .

There were a dozen or so men in the room who
£rain with the Price gang; but none of them of t
to interfere.

Besides; Price was a mighty ch
town the night before, incidentally wounding two or t
ef the tough cases who had come in his way. He mi
as well as not have h
geo chosen. -

But all the same, their sympathies began to turn to the
gman in the plug hat, even if he was not their style.

“ Blamed ef ther kid ain’t got nerve ve

“Vaas, ef he knows his danger. Some ’un orter tell
him, er f’ust thing he knows he’ll go trottin’ off over ther
range, an’ never come back no more. Price air a bad
man, all ther time, an’ ev’ry time - an’ ter-night he’s got
it on him big ez a b’ar.”

‘Better drink er pray, stranger !
amid, er yer_a gone coon.”

One good-natured soul ventured this advice, but be was
careful to throw it over his shoulder, and the eyes that
were turned. savagely in the direction of the sounds failed
to see the moving lips from which they were coming or
there might have been a hot answer from the other side.

But the stranger neither drank nor prayed.

His lips closed. tightly, his face took on a cold, un-
{athomable expression, and
perfectly motionless, save. for the one hand that was
slowly gliding along the counter toward the decanter.
alf-wav around him reached the semicircle of glitter-

the bar.

did not
he kind

ief, who had shot up the
hree
ght

S’uthin’s got ter be

friend, and not to either,

ad cold meat for breakfast, if he had |

he leaned back against the bar,

ing barrels, and the silence of the five only made more |
impressive the words of their spokesman.

an’ I’ll give yer w’ile I count five ter make yer ch’ice.” a
‘One |? io
66 Two Wy
“Three !” .
There was just alittle pause after the three, as if to

around the straight, thin lips, otherwise set hard over the
sharp, white teeth behind them.

* Four!”

“Wive!”

As the tast number of grace fell from
ruffian the six revolvers spoke as one.

the lips of the.

CHAPTER II.
“sHOOT THAT HAT.”

Hell reigned. ;
There was a flash of flame that dulled the lights in the | -
chandelier above, the heads of the throng, a stunning re-
port, and then the room was filled with choking smoke,
‘in the midst of which there was something going on that
‘had not been exactly down on the small bills of the per- /

‘formance. |
|. Every one of the six bullets had gone through the plug
‘hat of Allen Audrey. some of them low enough down to
‘cut here and there a little lock of hair. \
| But there was not a drop of blood drawn. ae

If Audrey had only known,it, the whole scene had led
up from the words of Price on first catching a glimpse of
im:

“ Shoot that hat !”

But Allen knew nothing as yet about such divertise-
‘ments, and it would have been all the same, it the weap-
‘ons had been aimed at his boot-heels /
| He took the proceedings in deadly
g smoke gave him his opportunity.
| His hand had not been wandering along the counter for
/nothing.
| As Posh Price uttered the word, “five,” he grasped the
| decanter by the neck, and, betore the roar of the explo-
‘sions had died away, he had settled down to the work he
‘had been laying out in his mind. oo
| In spite of his rather slender figure there was a
‘strength and activity inside of the elegant clothes, for
which the young stranger had not received credit.
| Left and right, up and down, rose and fell the decanter,
‘with the terrific force of a madman’s arm, and every

blow told.
| ‘The smoke covered them like a vail, but Allen Audrey

had the position of every man fixed, and he made no mis-
takes or misses.

Six times he struck, and then—disappeared.
There was an open window at the end of the bar, and, _
‘with the spring of a practiced athlete, he vaulted out of ,

‘the opening, and ran lightly down the street.
| Bare-headed and breathless he reached the hotel, and dia
inot halt until safely in his own room, only the worse by

the loss of a hat, and the wear and tear of his nerves for
the evening’s experience.

“Tf T ever venture into such a place again without a
weapon I’ll deserve all I get—even if it is worse than the
sore heads those fellows will have in the morning.” oN

So he muttered to himself, and the resolve was a wise
one.

There were other dangers worse than the cruel play of
Posh Price and his gang, and he was fated to meet them
all.

When he strolled up and down the porch of the hotel, |
the next morning, waiting for the stage, he wore a close- |
fitting traveling-cap, and a lady of fewer years, and even |
less experience, was with him. A

Perhaps she showed more wisdom than Allen Audrey,
did in the selection of her costume; but the plain serg
dress she wore could not disguise or alter the exquisi
perfection of her petite figure; and from under her wi

 

\

|

j

e

| earnest and the drift-
‘in
|

*

|
| f
i

 

 

“By ther hosts ov Hades, stranger! It’s drink er croak ; _ '

give a chance for prayerful thought; but there was nota _
word spoken, and only the ghost of a sneer showed itself —
THE L

No. 201.

 

brimmed hat peeped up a face of piquant and almost

, matchless beauty.

“T wish we were off,” she was saying.

“ Of all dreary things, to wait in such a place as this is
the dreariest.

‘‘T suppose the stage is never on time; but it does seem,
all the same, that it must be late this especial morning
for our particular benefit.”

“Rest easy, coz. We may be wishing ourselves well
back before we are through with the trip. Not that I care
for myself; but I heartily wish you had let me come
alone. It strikes me it would have been both a safer and
a surer way.”

“Oh, that would have never done at all! No one could
ever do anything with Wilbur except when he was
taken in hand by me. Tf you had met him he would have
let you talk, staring at you all the time with his faraway,
unblinking eyes, and that would have been the end of it.

“And astothe matter of safety, 1am sure I did not
asx you to come, and if you think there is danger in the
air for you, why, go back as soon as you choose.”

“Good heavens! You can’t mean a word of that! You
don’t imagine it was on account of any supposed danger
forme? What is amusement for a man is a terror fora
woman; and you cannot imagine the dangers to you that
I was thinking of. As for the willful boy, only give me

the authority and I assure you, if he is anywhere on top |
of the earth, I will bring him to you, willing or unwilling. |

I can have a persuasive way about me which he cannot
resist.”

“And what good would that do? If he came against his
will, he could flit away again as silently as he did before.
And I beg your pardon for my hint about your courage.
Of coarse, I did not mean it. I only know I amina
wretched mood this morning, ready to fight my grand-
father himself, if he were alive and available. It is a for-
tunate thing we will not have time to quarrel. Here comes
the stage.”

Miss Kyrtle Wallace was a trifle ashamed of herself, if
the truth were known.

She was well aware there was no justice in her fling,
and was sorry for it almost as soon as said. She was posi-
tively grateful to Kit Dickson when he tooled the stage for
Creede up to the very porch.

That gave an ending to what would have been a very
pretty dispute, if it had gone on afew minutes longer.
There was not much time now to linger.

The two had but few preparations to make, and in a trice |
were out once more, accompanied by the landlord, who, |

as he had made a small-sized fortune off of them, was
willing to speed the parting guests.

“Pwo frien’s ov mine, Kit,” he said, looking up at the
veteran driver.

“ Hustle them through in great shape; an’ be sure you

| don’t let ’°em get held up along the road. They may want)

to come back this way, an’ drop a few more.”

Miss Kyrtle heard the well-meant caution,
understood the latter part of it.

She shrugged her shoulders, and though she sai
ing she was thinking :

“Scearcely, my friend. Nothing but a false trail ever
lead us by suclya route. When we go back, I hope it will
be in the enjoyment of all the luxuries of a Pullman.”

Inside the coach there was but one passenger, who
moved fromthe rear seat at sight of the lady about to
enter.

“Thanks,” said Miss Wallace, as she dropped into the
place vacated.

Having done her duty thus far she became unconscious
of the presence of the stranger.

At least, she took no further notice of him, though she
could not help but remember, from the one glance given
that he was a well-built, handsome young man, neatly
dressed in a suit of blue, who wore around his neck a red
scarf, in whcih blazed asingle diamond, which her ex-
perience told her was of considerable value.

“A gambler, no doubt,” was her thought. “He dresses
too well for a miner, and a banker would not have time
or manners to be polite. He may know something that
will help us in our quest; though it will be time enough,

but only
d noth-

OG CABIN LIBRARY.

by and by, to ask him. And I suppose it would be better

3h

 

to leave the quizzing to Allen to do.”

As Audrey followed he hesitated an instant, glancing at
the person who had so: promptly given up his seat at the
sight of a lady; and then dropped into the place beside
his cousin.

The door was shut, the driver was gathering up the
lines, and in another instant the Old Reliable would have
been off.

A yell from the rear caused Kit Dickson to glance over
his shoulder, and then shout:

“Hurry up thar ef yer wants ter climb inter this yere
hearse. Time’s ’bout up, an’ she don’t wait fer no man.”

The only answer was the vigorous clatter of heavy boots
in the rear, and in a minute more the door of the stage
was again opened.

Miss Kyrtle drew herself up in some dismay, for it
sounded as though thre was aregiment in the charge and
if they were all coming in there-—-—

She caught a glimpse of a brawny, ruffianly looking
man, whose face was so battered and beplastered she
could scarcely distinguish its true outlines.

The fellow stared from her to the young man beside
her, and on Allen his eyes rested a little longer.

Then he carefully closed the door and climbed to the
top of the coach, followed by two companions, who were
no better favored than himself.

There was an owl-like gravity about the proceeding
which amused Miss Kyrtle; but her companion was not
so sure he cared for such amusement. In the man of the
battered face he recognized Posh Price, and had no
doubt that the two rough-looking individuals who accom-
panied him were two of the men he had met the night be-
fore at the Dandy Belle Saloon.

._They were no nearer sober now than they were then;
and what freak might enter their heads if they had recog-
nized him, and should think the matter over, was a seri-
ous question.

For himself ke cared little, but the presence of his
cousin was the disturbing element.

CHAPTER III.
HELD UP.

Kit Dickson himself did not like his extra passengers
any too well.

He recognized the Holy Horror of Mineral Hill, and
knew of what sort he was; but as long as they paid their
|way. and behaved with ordinary decency he could have

 

‘nothing to say.

| He lost no time allowing
‘and their few belongings.
| Hardly had the last foot left the ground when his whip
'eracked, and the stage rolled off at a lively gait.

| After the near approach to a “ tiff” which the attempted

the men to arrange themselves

/conversation with his cousin had caused, Allen Audrey
was not sure it would be wise t> say much to the little
|lady until the air had time to thoroughly clear. He threw
| himself back in the corner, found as easy 4 resting-place
for his head as he could, and closed his eves.
| Though a formal reconciliation was scarcely necessary,
‘it might be as well to let the first word come from her.
| Perhaps, too, he wanted to think what would be his
'eourse in case there was to be further trouble with Price,
and the men at his beck. ;
| After a while he looked at. Miss Kyrtle through his par-
‘tially closed eyelids.
| If not sleeping she was simu
well.
| He opened his eyes in earnest, and glanced over at the
‘genteel-looking fellow on the front seat. Was he mis-
taken, or did he catch an amused twinkle in the man’s
eye?

‘Te he did, little use was there to be angry about it. He
had already: come to a conclusion similar to that of Kyrtie
_—that the man was a sport, and possibly might be of use
to them.

The continuation of ‘Coot DaN THE SPORT’S PLUCKY
Parp,” from where it stops here, will be found complete
in No. 202 of the Log CaBin LIBRARY.

lating slumber remarkatiy

 
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No.
33—The Road Agents. By Leander P. Richardson.
34— Kentucky Kate: or, The Moonshiners’ League.
35—Bob Singleton; or, The Double Penalty. By David Lowry.
36—His Highest Stake. By Edwin S. Deane.
37—Cy. the Ranger; or, The Red Man’s Terror, By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.
38—Alf. the Chicago Sport.
39—Barnacle Backstay; or, The Gray Eagle of the Atlantic.
40.—The Great River Mystery. By Bartley Caipbell.
a ceue Stony Point Tragedy. By A. L.. Fors,
—The Hattield-MeCoy Vendetta; or. Shadowing a Hard Crowd.
teed Rube Burrows; or, The King of the Outlaws. By Edwin 8S. Deane.
44—Pigtail Demons; or, The Mongolian Highhinders. By Harry Temple.
45—Mountain Tom. A story of the Diamond Fields.
46—Gotham by Gaslight; or, Dan McGinty’s Ups and Downs. By Dan
McGinty.
41—The Black Riders of Santos; or, The Terror of Wood River.
48—The Ocean Détective: or, The Trail of Death. By Richard J. Storms.
a cae Brother's Vow; or, Hunted Down in Arkansas. By Jack
larp
60—Frank and Jesse James In Mexico; or, Raiders of the Rio Grande.
61— Jennie, the Telegraph Operator. By R. M. Taylor.
52—Razzle-Dazzle Dick; or, The Fellow erik Lived by His Wits. By Donald
J. McKenzjp.
§8—Coonskin, the Scout; or, The Prince of Bordermen.
54—Jesse James’ Oath; or, Tracked to Death.
§5—The Stranglers of Ohio; or, A Dark-Lautern League.
66—A. Border Vengeance; or, The Fate of the Regulators.
mond.
57—Frauk James iu St. Louis; or, The Mysteries of a Great City.
88—Orthodox Jeems.
69—Brotherhood Buck; or, The Players’ League in the South.
Warden.
60—Trackless Terror, the Unknow a Avenger. By Roy St. Leger.
61— Jesse James at Long Branc bie r, Playing for a Million.
62—Ramon, the Bull-Fighter; the Victim of Fate.
Durivage.

By Duke Cuyler.

By Ralph Ray-

By Francis A.

638—The Brotherhood Afloat; or, The Mystery of the Sealed Packet. By John ‘

Warden.
64—Kansas Kit; or, The Magician of the Plains.
§5—Play Ball; or, Brotherhood Boys in Florida.
66—The Pearl of the Prairie; or, The Scout and the Renegade.
Bill
67—Red Douglass; or, the King of the Black Forest.
68—A Home Run; or, How the Great Game Was Won. By John Warden.
69—Looney Lorton; or, The Rose of Sligo. By Join F. Cowan.
70—The Rangers of Gold Stream. By M. Silingsby.
7i— Jesse James at Coney [sland; or, The Wall Street Banker’s Secret.
72—Rover Wild, the Toy, Reefer.
73—Seven-Foot Bills or, Lengthy the Scout. By J. C, McKenzie.
74— Jesse Jaines in New York: or, A Plot to Kidnap Jay Gould.
75—Hazel-Wye, the Girl Trapper.
76—The Black Hand; or, The League of Gold.
77—Saquirrel Cap; or, The Ranger of Raccoon Ridge.
7—The Pearl of the Reef; or, The Diver’s Daughter,
39--Moceasin Mose; or, ‘The Trail of Death.
80—Sensation Sate, the Queen of the Wild-Horse Bange.
gi—Beaver Jim; or, The Trail of the Secret Brotherhood. By Maurice Sil-
ingsby.
82—Rattlesnake Ned, the Terror of the Sea.
33—Ironsides, the Scout; or, The White Rider of the Demon’s Gorge.
Oll Coomes.
84—The Red Raven; or, The Mysterious Crniser. By Harry Hazel.
85—A Knight of Labor; or, The Master Workman’s Vow. By John E. Bar-
rett.
86—Gulietta the Waif; or, The Girl Wrecker.
87—Rube Burrows’ Last Shot.
88—Who Shot Chief Hennessy. By Pere Absinthe.
g9—Wildcat Ned; or, The Mountain Men of Oregon. By James L, Bowen.
90—Jesse Jaines, Rube Burrows & Co.
9t—The Rival Rancheros; or, The Missing Bride. By A. C. Monson.
92—The Birchall-Benwell Tragedy; or, Tracing a Mysterious Crime.
Pere Absinthe.
93-—The Sky Traveler; or,
My fa 86
94—Jesse James’ Double; or,
95—Clint, the Grizzly; or, The Outlaw’s Daughter.
96—The Last of the Burrows Gang; or, Joe Jackson’s Last Leap.
ter L. Hawley.
37—Big Foot Wallace, the Giant Hero of the Border.
98—The Raven of the North; or, The Mysteries of the
Coomes.
99—Big Foot’s Band; or,
hawk.
100— Unmasked at the Matinee.
101—Jesse James’ Successor; or, The Raid on the South Chicago Bank.
102—Big Mink, the Trapper; or, The Daughter of the Brigade.’ By an Old
Trapper.
103— Buffalo Bill at Wounded Knee; or, The Battle-Secret of the Bad Lands.
104— Jesse James Among the Moonshiners; or, The Train Robber’s Trail in
Kentucky.
105—The Landlord’s Crime; or, The Curse of fnnisfail.
106—Bold Sitting Bull.
407—Jesse James in Chicago.
108—The Rising Tide. By John E. Barrett.
109— Merciless Ben.
110—Jesse Jaines in New Orleans.
11i1—The Mafia’s Foe.
212—Silver Wing, the Angel of the Tribes.
1323-—Jesse Jaies on the Mississippi; or, The Duel at Midnight.
114—The Hillsburg Tragedy; or. Murdered for Gold. By John E. Barret.
325—Jack the Ripper in New York: or, Piping a Terrible Mystery.
216—Captain Jack; or, The Seven Scouts.
117—J esse Jaimnes’ Cave: or, The Secret of the Dead.
#18—Du Barry’s Revenge. By Francis A. Durivage.
219—Buckskin Sam, the Scalp-taker.
420—Jesse James at Bay; ov. The Train Robher’s Trail.
321—The Revenue Officer's Triumph; or, The Sunken Treasure.
122—Searlet Face, the Renegade; or, The White Chief of the Shawanese.
Maurice Silmesby,
123—Rube Burrows’ Pard; or, Chased Through the Flor ida Swamps,
124—The Lion’s Leap; or, Harry Brenton, the Sailor's Adventures with Pi-
rates. By Roger Starbuck,

By John F. Cowan.
By John Warden.
By Buffalo

By

By
The Magician of the Lakes. By P. Hamilton
The Man froin Missouri.

By W. H. Bushnell.

By Wal-

Isles. By Oll

Captain Wallace’s Last Charge. By Red Toma-

By John E. Barrett.

By

180

By John:

 

No.

125—The Thunderbolt of the Border; or, Daniel Boone on the War-path.

126— Jesse James in Disguise; or, The Missouri Outlaw as a Showman.

127—Buffalo Bill’s Best Shot.

128—Buffalo Bill’s Last Victory; or, Dove Eye, the Lodge Queen.

129—Tom Richardson, the Terror; or, The Long Island Outlaw. By Walter
LL. Hawley.

—The Queen of the Plains; or, Calamity Jane. By Reckless Ralph.

131— Jesse James in Tennessee.

132—Texas Jaek, the White King of the Pawnees.

| 188—Rocky Mountain Sam; or, The Wind-Spectre of the Blackfeet.

134-—Buffalo Bill’s Best Bower. By E. W. Wheeler.

135—The Witch of tne Ocean; or, The Lady of Silver Spray.
136—Little Buckshot; or, The White Whirlwind of the Prairie.
137—Gentleman Joe. By Bob Howard,

138—Jesse James Among the Mormons.

1389—Long Mike, the Oregon Hustler.

' 140—Red Dick, the Tiger: of California.

141—Dashing Charlie, the Texan Whirlwind.
142—Midshipman Angus, of H. M. 8. Plantagenet.
143—Maratina, the Female Brigand. By Lieut. Murray,
144—Chipmuck the Wyandotte. By Sandy Griswold.
145—Buffalo Bill’s Border Bravos. By iE. W. Wheeler.
146—Movte and the Mvstic Ten.
147—The Red Skin Renegade. By John F. Cowan.
148—Jesse James’ Journey ; or, ‘he Prisoner of the Cave.
149—Nerle, the Pirate; or, The Treasure Ship of the Hidden Islands.
Lewis Leon.
150—Redmond’s Adventures; or, The Treasure of the Lake.
151—Gentleman Joe, the Bonanza King; or. The Belle of Silver Guich.
152—Buffalo Bill, the Border King; or, The White Queen of the Sioux and the
the Girl Rifle- Shot.
153—Old Luther on Deck ; or, The East River Mystery.
154—Bob Sims’ Fearful Oath; or, The Fatal Vengeance of the Sw amp
Outlaws.
155—Jesse James in Dakota; or, The Prince of Road Agent’s Disguises.
. B. Lawson.
156— Grimes, the Detective; or, Working up a Great Case. By A. Robertson.
163 —Gentleman Joe’s Vendetta; or, The Hustlers of Hardserabble. By
Joseph E. Badger, Jr. fe
164—Tracked to Egypt; or, Detective Grimes Abroad. By Aleck Robertson.
165—J esse James’ Hunt to Death; or, The Terror of Grizzly Holhow. By W.
B. Lawson.
166—Gray Hawk the Half-Breed ;
Win. Henry Peck.
167—Jesse James Shadow; or, The Rivals of The Road. By W.B. Lawson.
168—Gentleman Joe’s Death Shot; Or, The Road Agents Nemisis. By
Joseph E. Badger. Jr. 3
169—The Queen of the Canons; Or, The Black Scout of Arizona. By Burke
Brentford.
170—Detective Grimes’ Triumph; Or, The Successful Ending of a Compli-
cated Case, By Alex Robertson,
17i—Polk Wells, Jesse James’ Comrade; Or, The Riverton Bank Robbery.
By W. B. Lawson.
172—Rattlesnake Jim; Or, The Reckless Sport of Deadman’s Gulch. By
Walter L. Hawley.
173—Gentleman Joe’s Life Stake; Or, The Vigilantes of Touch-and-Go. By
the author of “Gentleman Joe.”’
174— vosse Pues Outdone; Or, The Missouri-Pacific Train Robbery. By
saWson.
ken. Ford, Jesse James’ Slayer; Or, The Life and Death of a Notorious
Outlaw. By W. B. Lawson.
176—Hold Out Johnson, The Hustler From Beaver Head. By Walter L.
Hawley.
177—Smoky Jones; Or, The Gold Hunters of Colorado. By E. A. Young.
178—Hunted Down; or, On the Trail For Forty Years. By Francis a.
Durivage,
179—The Mysterious Bed; Or, The Secret Holes in the Wall. By Col. Baker,
Ex-Chief of Detectives.
180—Cool Dan, The Sport; Or, The Crack Shot of Creede.
James.
181—Gentleman Joe’s Double; or, The Bad Man from Bitter Creek, By the
author of “Gentleman. Joe.”
182 -The Three Detectives Hunt, Hall and Hyde; Or, Working on the Perth
Amboy Mystery. By Capt. Clinch.
183—A Second Jesse James; Or, The Capture and Conviction of a Bold
Bank Thief. By W. B. Lawson.
184—The Marked Hand; Or, A Through Ticket to Sing By Col.
Baker, Ex-Chief of Detectives.
85—The Dalton Boys; and, The M. K. and T. Robbery. By W. B. Lawson.
ec Bob, the Terror of Creede; Or, Cool Dan the Sport Again to the
Front. "By Capt. Lew James.
187—Gentleman Joe’s Pard; Or, The Benefit at Purgatory Point. By the
author of “Gentleman Joe.”
168—Pool Ticket 025; Or, A Mystery Explained. By Col. Baker, Ex-Chief
of Detectives.
189—Dave Kenshaw, Detective; Or. How He Played His Trump Card. By
Robert J. Bangs, Detective.
190—Cool Dan the Sport’ s Wonderful Nerve; Or, The Madman’s Matchless
Mine. By Capt. Lew James.
191—The Dalton Boys’ Smooth Trick; Or, The Robbery of tne Bank of El
Reno. By W. B. Lawson.
192—Detective Against Detective; Or, Solving a Street-Car Puzzle. By
Donald J. McKenzie.
193—The Collis paiiees Robbers; Or, Hunting Down Two Desperate Crim-
inals. By Harry Dixey. :
ee ae Breakers’ Gang; Or, The Three H.'s Great Skill. By Capt,
‘linch.
195—A Louisiana Jesse James; Or, Killed in the Sw amp. By W. B. Lawson.
196— Just Like-.the James Boys; ‘Or, Wiped Out by Vigilantes. By W. B.

Lawson.
197—The Cooley Gang: Or, A Plucky Sheriffs Fight to the End, By Jim
A Mighty

By

By

or, The Strange Captive. By Professor

By Capt. Lew

Sing.

Kearney.

198—Gentleman Joe Ensnared; Or, Bad Man to Beat.
author of “Gentleman Joe.”

199—Manton Mayne, the San Francisco Or,
Tragedy. By Eugene T. Sawyer.

200—The Dalton Boys in ‘California; ‘Or. A Bold Hold- -up at Ceres.
B. Lawson.

By the
Detective; The Coleraine

By W.
20{— cee eee. Strangler; or, Dick Hawes’ Terrible Crime. By Walter

ree Dan the Sport’s Plucky Pard; Or, The Mascot of Creede. By Capt.
Lew James.

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