of scene that
would ensure ease for his mind, and safety for his body.

Henry Schulte was at this time an old man--the sixty years of his
life had passed away slowly, but eventfully to him, and his whitened
hair and wrinkled face betokened that age had left its indelible mark
upon the once stalwart form of the Henry Schulte of days gone by. His
head was generally bowed as though in deep thought, whether at home
or abroad, and the broad shoulders seemed to have yielded to the
weight of trouble which had come upon him in those early days. He was
never seen to smile, and the hard, set lines about the mouth never
relaxed, however mirthful was the scene before him, or however
pleasurable the association in which he might accidentally find
himself placed. His violin was his only companion during the long
evening hours, and almost every night the harmonious strains of the
music which he evoked from that instrument could be heard by those
who journeyed upon the lonely road which passed in front of his
house.

In the early fall of 1877, an incident occurred, which, in the
disordered state of his mind, rendered it impossible for him to
remain any longer in fancied peace and security.

One morning about daybreak a party of gunners, who were in search of
game, were passing the premises occupied by Henry Schulte, when one
of their number, a nephew of the old man, being the son of his elder
brother, knowing his weakness in regard to being assassinated, and
from a spirit of mischief which prompted him, took careful aim and
fired directly through the window of the sleeping apartment of his
uncle, and then quickly and laughingly passed on. The old gentleman,
suddenly aroused from his slumbers, jumped up in affright, calling
loudly in the excess of his terror:

[Illustration: "_The old man jumped from his bed in affright,
calling loudly for help._"]

"Help! Help! The villains have attempted to murder me again!"

Frank Bruner, his servant, being thus awakened, ran to the window and
saw the party rapidly disappearing around a bend in the road. He
recognized Bartolf Schulte as being one of the party, and informed
his master of the fact.

"Mein Gott! Mein Gott!" exclaimed the old man. "My own brother's son
try to take my life--this is horrible. He wants my money and he tries
to kill me."

It was a long time before his violence subsided, but when at length
Frank succeeded in calming his excitement and restoring him to
reason, one