The Secret of Lonesome Cove

d drawn it to a spot opposite Sterrett's store, where a wagon, decorated in the most advanced style of circus art,

N P.

PURE

thing more than a confused jumble, Kent was struck with the expansive splendor of the man's gestures, the dignity of his robust figure, and the beauty of a broad whitening beard that spread sidewise like the ripples from a boat's stem. Two blemishes unhappily marred the majesty of Simon P. Groot's presence; a pair of pin-head eyes, mutually attracted to each other, and a mean and stringent little voic

rnful tones. 'I must away upon my mission.' 'Stay!' I bade her. 'Ere you go, but touch your lips to this revivifying flagon. De Lorimer's Life Giving Tonic, free from intoxicants, poisons, and deception, a boon to the blood, a balm to the nerves, a prop to the flagging spirit.' She looked, she tasted, she drank. New color sprang to her cheeks. Her form pulsated with joyous vigor. 'Aged sir,' said she, 'I know n

f salesmanship, the gaudy bottles on the shelf were replaced by half-dolla

eled chronometer which I shall presently have the honor of showing to you at the unexampled price of three-seventy-and saw that the hour was exactly-for these timepieces vary not one fraction of a second in a day-eight-forty-five. When next I

controlled emotion. His voice dropp

orrow. I show you here a unique collection of framed mottoes, suitable alike for the walls of the humblest home or the grandest palace. Within these tasty frames are enshrined comforting mortuary verses, delicately orn

he office of Lawyer Adam Bain, and spent an hour waiting, with his

wo official friends i

they've crawled out. I

w s

ody as it was, we could have had it exhumed.

nd you didn't s

hat? D

idled down from the

fullest possible character sketch o

P. Groot had been discoursing. There he found the ornate wagon closed, and its ornate proprietor whistling ov

buyer. You've got some information that I may want.

Groot austerely. "It was

off the frills

motto; you'll find it in gilt letteri

u doing on Ha

g in the

met this myste

ou're stan

ssed bet

ildren's children might remember the day. Now, I ain't got any children to have children

was

een minut

ll the crow

. From my description they allowed it was a painter man named Sedgwick. I thou

woman cry out less

sworn it was a man's voice that yelled. I

fore last. What have y

here I heard about the murder and came back here to

attempt to tr

gent, all right; but I think I've talked a little too much with my mouth around here, and I'm afraid they

fe," sa

five dollars to you, likely, a relic o

e lik

I used to be a yarb-grubber. Do a little of it now, sometimes. She'd met somebody in a thicket. I found the string and the paper of the bundle she was carrying, there. Then there was a fight of some sort; for the twigs

laid on his knee. His lips pursed. Nothing that could be interpreted as an

stlin', mister, but sad, and terrible l

over, and still whistling the long-meter China, took possession of Simon P. Groot's "r