ep money long, and when the proceeds of the
robbery had been wasted at cards and in drink they separated. As in
fulfilment of the axiom that a murderer is sure to revisit the scene of
his crime, one of the men found himself at the Ocmulgee, a long time
afterward, in sight of the new town--Macon. In response to his halloo a
skiff shot forth from the opposite shore, and as it approached the bank
he felt a stir in his hair and a touch of ice at his heart, for the
ferryman was his victim of years ago. Neither spoke a word, but the
criminal felt himself forced to enter the boat when the dead man waved
his hand, and he was rowed across, his horse swimming beside the skiff.
As the jar of the keel was felt on the gravel he leaped out, urged his
horse to the road, sprang to the saddle, and rushed away in an agony of
fear, that was heightened when a hollow voice called, "Stay!"

After a little he slackened pace, and a farmer, who was standing at the
roadside, asked, in astonishment, "How did you get across? There is a
freshet, and the ferryman was drowned last night." With a new thrill he
spurred his horse forward, and made no other halt until he reached the
tavern, where he fell in a faint on the steps, for the strain was no
longer to be endured. A crowd gathered, but he did not see it when he
awoke--he saw only one pair of eyes, that seemed to be looking into his
inmost soul--the eyes of the man he had slain. With a yell of terror and
of insane fury he rushed upon the ghost and thrust a knife into its
breast. The frenzy passed. It was no ghost that lay on the earth before
him, staring up with sightless eyes. It was his fellow-murderer--his own
brother. That night the assassin's body hung from a tree at the
cross-roads.

A GHOSTLY AVENGER

In Cuthbert, Georgia, is a gravestone thus inscribed: "Sacred to the
memory of Jim Brown." No date, no epitaph--for Jim Brown was hanged. And
this is the story: At the close of the Civil War a company of Federal
soldiers was stationed in Cuthbert, to enforce order pending the return
of its people to peaceful occupations. Charles Murphy was a lieutenant in
this company. His brother, an officer quartered in a neighboring town,
was sent to Cuthbert one day to receive funds for the payment of some
men, and left camp toward evening to return to his troop. That night
Charles Murphy was awakened by a violent flapping of his tent. It sounded
as though a gale was coming, but when he arose to ma