I paid mine host his modest bill, bade him good bye at the landing, rowed up stream, and, after spending a day with Tipton Posey at Bundy’s Bridge, left the river country. It was six months before I returned. I sought the Colonel and found him much changed. A trouble had come upon him. His eye had lost its lustre, he had an air of listlessness and preoccupation, and he looked older. It seemed that there had been great excitement in the county after my departure, and the Colonel had been the storm center. When we had finished our simple evening meal, and had lighted our pipes before the fire, the Colonel handed me a copy of _The Index_, the weekly paper, published at the county seat. Its date was about four months old. “I would like to have you read that, suh, and then I will hand you anotheh.” On the front page were some glaring headlines: THE BURGLARY!!!—THE EXPLOSION!!!—THE PURSUIT!!! I read the account with deep interest, which was as follows: “On Monday morning of June 10th a crowd assembled in front of the County Treasurer’s office at the Court House, amid very unusual circumstances. Nearly seven thousand dollars were known to have been in the safe Saturday night, and now as the anxious citizens crowded through the door, they saw a ruined open safe, and abundant evidences of a fearful explosion. A steel drill, some files, and an empty can that had probably contained the explosive compound, were scattered about on the floor. The rugs were in a pile near the safe, where they had probably been used to muffle the explosion. The money was gone. “It was learned that a stranger of singular appearance, and marked individualities, with a gray coat, a heavy gray moustache and long chin whiskers, who entered the town last Friday, and had been observed by many of the citizens during Friday and Saturday, had deposited at the Treasurer’s office, for safe keeping, a box represented to contain valuables. This box, made of tin, some eight inches in length and five in width, was deposited on Friday, and taken out on Saturday morning. It was again deposited on Saturday afternoon, to be called for on Monday morning. “The county treasurer, the Hon. Truman W. Pettibone, had gone fishing on Thursday and expected to remain away until Tuesday, as is his custom during the summer months. “The mysterious stranger was waited on by Mr. J. Milton Tuttle, the courteous and well known clerk in the treasurer’s office. Mr. Tuttle’s charming daughter has just returned from a visit to her aunt in Oak Grove township—but we digress. J. Milton Tuttle had no suspicions, and retired at evening to his home and his interesting family.