The Phantom Hunter: Love After Death
9781465676047
213 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
Among the earliest settlements of Kentucky was that which figures in our story. At the time of the following events it contained some fifty dwellings, surrounded by strong palisades to defend them from the savages, besides a well-constructed block-house, which was not only strongly garrisoned, but claimed the additional protection of a brass field-piece. This last-named instrument presented quite a formidable appearance to prowling Indians, as it sat on the summit of the block-house reflecting every sunbeam from its polished surface. One bright afternoon, early in the month of August, there was an unusual commotion at the Indian frontier post. The entire population, men and women, old and young, had assembled on a broad, level spot just beyond the limits of the fort, many of them to look upon a scene such as they had never before witnessed. This spot was known as “the green,” and it was where the youth of the settlement were wont to repair for their sports, but those gathered there now wore sad faces, and conversed with each other in low, serious tones. And well they might, for they were there to see a man hung for murder! Russell Trafford was one of the most honored and highly esteemed young men of the place, and yet, on this bright August afternoon, he was to be put to death for the willful murder of another person, who had enjoyed a like reputation. Being an orphan, the young man had lived with his uncle, Doctor Trafford, in the largest and most substantial cabin in the settlement, the worthy doctor being a kind but eccentric individual, who could not have loved his nephew more had the latter been a son instead. These two had never been known to be at odds until very recently, and in fact the peace, harmony and happiness with which they had always lived together, had been a subject of remark on more than one occasion. But one night, at a late hour, an alarm of fire was raised. The excited settlers, rushing out of their houses, made the startling discovery that the dwelling of Doctor Trafford was in flames. It was readily perceived that the fire had already made such headway as to be past extinguishing, but, notwithstanding that fact, crowds of people rushed to the spot to watch the doomed cabin as it burned, and to learn the cause of the catastrophe. Arriving on the scene, the only person they found there was Russell Trafford. The young man was standing in front of the burning structure, with an open tinder-box in his hand, gazing up at the flames, pale and silent. When spoken to he started violently, and then, quickly thrusting the tinder-box in his pocket, he clasped his hands and cried out in tones of mental anguish, that his poor uncle was dead—murdered—burned alive in his own house! Somebody asked him how he came to be outside of the cabin with an open tinder-box in his hand, and he replied in an absent sort of a way, that he didn’t know—the box was not his—he had found it, he supposed, and begged them to let him alone. The idea of the esteemed Doctor Trafford being burned to death in his own house and bed, aroused the indignation of all. Somebody had done the deed, and somebody must suffer for it; and the finger of circumstantial evidence pointed to the victim’s nephew, Russell, as the guilty one. Suspicion was fastened strongly upon him, despite the good name he had hitherto borne. On the following day the remains of Doctor Trafford were looked for amid the ruins of the demolished domicil, and the search was rewarded by the finding of a skull and the rest of the bones that belong to the human body, all totally destitute of flesh. These were decently interred, as a last tribute of respect to the dead.
