A SCOUNDREL.

Shannon News, 21 July 1925, Page 4

A SCOUNDREL.

WEDDING THAT DID NOT COME OFF. “MILLTONARE” FARM HAND. The little village of Salsburgh, about fifteen miles from Glasgow, has been thoroughly hoaxed by a person who gave the name of Pion Lancelot Blakly Archibald La Carter. During his stay in the village he divulged that he was the son of an Australian millionaire, and became engaged to a local girl. Eventually he disappeared unobstrusively. Sa.lsburgh is now almost certain that Pion Lancelot, etc., is not rich in anything but imagination. Pion Lancelot first appeared last summer, and got work as a farm labourer. While so engaged he met the daughter of a Salsburgh miner. Eventually he became very friendly with the girl and her family, and began to let them into the secrets of his family life. He was, he told them, working on the farm only to get experience, as his millionaire father wished him to take charge of a big farm in Devon. Salsburgh soon learned that it was entertaining an angel unawares, and the millionaire’s son was the centre of much curiosity. Pion Lancelot certainly did his best to live up to his reputation. On one occasion while in the village with his young lady, he went into a confectioner’s shop and bought a large number of boxes of chocolate, which he gave to the young women in the street, and after the chocolates were done, entered a tobacconist’s shop, bought boxes of cigarettes and gave them away to the ycung men of the place. It was arranged that the young couple should be married early this year. Among letters Pion Lancelot was supposed to have written at this time was one to Sir Edward Marshall Hall, K.C., making arrangements about his property. In his character of finance, Pion Lancelot was most generous—mostly with promises. His bride’s gown was to cost £4OO 0, and she was to have at least a dozen bridesmaids. The guests at the wedding, which was to be followed by a large banquet in Glasgow, were, he said, to include four millionaires and several people of title, including Lady Asjor. The honeymoon w'as to be spent in Prance and Italy.

Then one day a week or |wo ago he called at his fiancee’s house and asked her to get ready to go into Glasgow in his car, so that she could buy clothes in Sauchiehall Street. He went away to get the car—perhaps, and that was the last she saw of him.