THE MADNESS OF DAFFY DAN.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2139, 14 March 1908, Page 4 (Supplement)

THE MADNESS OF DAFFY DAN.

The keeper unlocked the door to cell No. 19, and entered, carrying; Daffy Dan’s supper. “Howdy, Dan?” ho said pleasantly.! “llow do you stack up to-night?” ] The figure sitting on the side of tho) white iron bed turned slowly. Tho] gaunt, muscular form straightened upj and came forward, the flickering light] overhead revealing a face of unusual) strength and decision. Only tho look) in tho eyes—now vacant and staring,! now glittering with a madman’s cun-: ning—told of tho deranged mindi within a well formed head. “Who is it speaks thus insolently to, mo—, Napoleon Bonaparte? Ah, I, see it all now!” Dan hissed, crouch-'; ing low and coming forward. “It is' my enemy, the Duke of Wellington 1; You—you who robbed me of victory,who destroyed my glorious army! But I’ve got you now; you cannot escape me this time!”

With tho agility of a panther, ho: sprang forward; but the keeper, al-; ways on bis guard, eluded the madman’s grasp and slipped out of the; cell, slamming the door. “Dan’s got ’em bad again to -night 1” he muttered. The keeper had formed a strange attachment for this intractable pat-: ient, who had often tried to 'kill him.; He had known the unfortunate man, in the days before his intellect became deranged as the result of a blow on tho head; and lie alone could quiet: the wild hallucinations of the poor l fellow’s disordered brain. Even in Dan’s most violent moods, the keeper had never failed to humor him, and to try by patience and kindess to lead his thoughts from murderous rage into more tranquil channels.

To-night, the patient was unusually! violent. He must be quietened if possible.

“Dont 1 let you and me quarrel, about this matter, Dan—Napoleon, I mean. I’ll admit I didn’t treat you just right in that little scrap at Waterloo; but I’ll tell you wliat we’ll do—let’s whack up on this European empire. You take Ireland, Wales,; Bulgaria, and cither Italy or Constantinople, just as you see fit. Now, what will you give me?”

“Six feet of British soil for. a grave,” replied the madman tragically.

“Well you are a generous chap, I must say,” replied the keeper in an injured tone. “Now, look here, Napoleon ; you ought to be willing to tote fair in this tiling. Here’s another proposition, and if you are the great and magnanimous general that I believe you to be, you w r ill accept. You take Russia, Turkey, and South Carolina. Then what do I get?”

Daffy’s anger had subsided as quickly as it rose. He sat on his bed,* seriously considering the question of dividing the sovereignty of the civilized world.

“Well, what do you say?” queried the keeper. “I have but one proposition • to make,” said Dan solemnly. “There is no alternative. You can have the Suez Canal and the Orinoco River; I get the rest.” “All right, Napoleon; what you say goes. Let’s eat supper now, and we’ll draw up the papers later.” Dan began to oat -with evident en-. joyment, never for a moment, however, forgetting the dignified mien that a. great general should display when in command of an alien commander. The meal over, the 'keeper picked up the tray and dishes, and started out. At the door he turned and said:

“I’ll bring up the papers' to bo signed a little later, Napoleon; in the meantime, just make yourself easy and comfortable.

“Wo shall await your coming— Marshal Ney and myself; do not fail us,” responded Dan, eyeing him intently. Then the keeper did a foolish thing. Perhaps he was busy thinking of regions that were to fall to his share. At any rate, he closed the grated doors and walked away without turning the bolt. In his eighteen years in charge of the ward in which the more violent patients were kept,. he had never before been guilty of such neglect.

The oversight had been observed by Daffy Dan, and a- look of cunning gleamed in his eyes. He made no "attempt to leave the cell immediately. No, he would wait until it was darker, and long corridors were quiet and deserted. He commenced making preparations for his flight, however, and chuckled softly as lie moved stealthily about his coll, muttering and plotting. “If he dosen’t bring the papers by nine o’clock, I shall go and strangle him! Ho played me false at Waterloo; to-night he must restore my kingdom, or die!” For some time in attending to hie many duties, the 'keeper did not think of Daffy Dan. Late in the evening, however, recalling the poor fellow’s unusually violent outburst, he decided to pay a brief visit to cell No. 19, hoping to find Dan in bed and asleep. Slowly mounting tho stairway, he passed down the dimly lighted corridor. Then ho stopped suddenly, in amazement aud dismay. Tho door of No. 19 was standing wide open, aud tho cell was empty 1 Hurriedly descending to the main floor, he aroused several of the guards and acquainted them with Daffy Dan’s escape. A searching party was at once launched in hot pursuit. “Search the upper floor first,” tho keeper told his assistants. “Search every nook and cranny; then go to tho main floor. If lie’s not in the main building, examine the other buildings thoroughly, and the grounds. If lie isn’t- found, we’ll divide into four parties and search the roads and fields. Dan is dangerous, and wo must take him.”

In the meantime, from Daffy Dan’s standpoint-, things were progressing splendidly. With tlie wonderful skill and cunning of a madman, ho traversed the long corridors, successfully eluding tho guards, and reaching the outside of tho main building. Watching liis opportunity, ho slipped into the keeper’s office -and took a heavy revolver from the drawer, concealing tho weapon within his coat. For somo time ho crouched in the

shadow of tho asylum buildings, thinking how to take the lifo of his hated enemy, tho Duke of Wellington. Somehow in his deranged mind, he bad ceased to associate tho personality of tho keeper with that of tho English general. Instead, 'possessed of tho idea that lie-must seek his rival in tlio darkness of tho night, along tho highway. Steadily lie crept through tho shub;bery, keeping always in the shadow. Gaining the road he broke into a run, looking back over his shoulder, liko a frightened animal. On, on ho rushed in tho darkness, panting, gasping for breath, becoming moment&sily wildor in his ravings.. At lenght he came to a place where tho road forked. Here ho paused to reflect, and then he secreted himself in the thick bushes by the roadside. “I see it now,” ho muttered. “That road at the right is the one that old Blucher travelled. The other leads from Brussels—the Duke will surely come this way.” Then drawing tho revolver, he added hoarsely: “Hero we’ll fight it out to the death 1” Silently, patiently he waited, peering with eager, expectant gaze into the blackness. Presently the dull thud of hoofs reached his ear; a fastgalloping horse was approaching, and its hoofbeats sounded louder and clearer each moment. The silent, waiting figure became tense and rigid. “He comes! He comes to his doom! On the slope of Mont St. Jean he destroyed my army—my noble legions—but to-night I regain all!” From out of the darkness loomed tho form of a rider mounted on a large white horse, panting, foam-fledr-ed, -and nearly exhausted from the terrific pace at which it had been travelling. At the fork of the roads the man reined in bis steed and paused, as if uncertain which turning to take, yet in a frenzied haste to be on bis way again. He decided on the road to the left; but hardly had ho turned his horse when a dark figure sprang from the roadside and grasped the rein. “Hold! You cannot escape me this time! I know you, craven—you are the Duke of Wellington!” “Duke of Hell!” shouted the horseman in fury. “Let go that rein! What do you mean by stopping me? Let me pass, or I’ll put a bulJe?"“ through you!” Still Daffy Dan clutched the rein, and with his right hand he steadily drew the revolver from his coat. Tho horseman’s quick eye noticed the movement, however, and like a flash, be drew his own weapon and levelled it at the head of the madman. Two shots rang out almost together. The white steed plunged and reared in fright, and its rider slipped from its back into the road—dead. As for Dan, -a bullet had plowed its w r ay along his scalp, and he lay in a helpless heap. At the sound of shots, one of tho searching parties ran up, headed by the keeper. - “We’re too late, men,” he said. “Daffy Dan has murdered a man in cold blood!” •

Carefully they raised the two forms and carried them to a grassy knoll by the roadside. While they were thus engaged, a party of armed horsemen approached at a gallop. The leader, a powerfully built and determined looking man, rode up to the keeper, reined in his steed, and exclaimed :

“Pardner, I’m the sheriff of Bartow County; me an’ this posse are. after a murderin’ hoss-thief named Black Henley. He rode a is fully armed, an’ is as bad as they make ’em. Have you seen him pasg this wav?”

For an answer, the keeper led the sheriff’s horse to the grassy knoll and pointed to the two figures stretched there, one cold in death, the other barely breathing.

“It’6 him, by thunder!” exclaimed the sheriff, quickly dismounting. “Who got him?” There’s a reward of a thousand dollars offered for him, dead or alive!”

At that moment Daffy Dan moved slightly, then slowly opened his eyes, and looked about him wonderiugly. “Where—where am I?” he gasped feebly, gazing from face to face as the men gathered about him. Something strange in the tone of the low feeble voice caught the quick ear of the keeper. Picking up a lantern, he held it close to the face of the prostrate man. An exclamation of surprise escaped his lips. Could it bo the light of returning reason that he saw in the eyes of his friend? A blow had deranged the poor fellow’s mind; could it be that the shock of the bullet had restored it?

Eagerly, anxiously, tlie . keeper knelt beside the limp form. “Dan, Dan, don’t you know me?” he importuned fervently; and then paused and waited breathlessly. The weary eyes wandered to his own; on longer could the keeper doubt the light of reason and of recognition that shone within them.

“Know you?” said Dan softly. “Why shouldn’t I know you? But who are these?” he added, locking round wonderiugly at the fates of the guards and the members of the posse. “They’re friends—that’s enough to know just now. You lay back and keep quiet.” The sheriff leaned over Dan -and looked at liim long and earnestly^ “You must hurry up and get straight again, my man,” he said with rough tenderness. “There’s a reward of a thousand dollars waitin’ for you to come an’ get it.” Carefully the keeper examined the wound in the scalp, and noted with a feeling of thankfulness the steady\ light in his patient’s eyes. . \ “Daffy Dan,” lie said quietly, “lias already received his reward—not dollars, but sense!” Will Gage Carey.