Thursday, July 22, 1898
Tom Shelton, an old Confederate soldier, visits around until patience ceases to be a virtue. He has recently had so much trouble that he declares if the Democrats of Pocahontas do not treat him better, he is going to stop voting the ticket. This terrible threat will cause the Democratic party to reward him for the good he has done by securing him a room at George Gladwell’s county hotel where they stay at home on election day. When he called in his off-hand style at the printing office the other day for a “little chuck of dinner,” he was requested to show his good faith by cutting wood. He did it, but was terribly grieved, and said that we were certainly turning Republican.
THREE FORKS OF CRANBERRY
The Cranberry country is nothing if not solitary. When the lawyer of Marlinton, worn out by his arduous duties and his overwhelming cares, flees as a bird to the mountain to forget the struggle for existence, he hopes to see no strange face. There, duns are neither given nor required, and all who have camped at the Forks of Cranberry know that it is very unusual to meet a stranger there.
Last Wednesday-week, a party of Marlinton men were in camp there, when the place suddenly swarmed with Greenbrier and Nicho-las men. They came as a band of Indians might have come upon a camp of white men a century ago.
The expedition was a survey, such as has been frequently instituted to settle the frontier boundary line of two counties.
A year or two ago they were trying a man at Lewisburg for stealing a hog, and when the prosecuting attorney asked the perfunctory but very necessary question, “What county did this happen in?” he unexpectedly struck a snag, for the witness was divided in his mind whether the pig pen was in Greenbrier or Nicholas, and the man went clear.
The great American hog must be protected at any cost, and therefore the counties of Greenbrier and Nicholas appointed surveyors, and tho the hog has been slain and eaten, the survey goes marching on merrily pilling up bills already amounting to hundreds of dollars.
THE TUG SHOOTING SCRAPE
William Colley Shot by His Step-Son-in-Law Milam, at the Old Cline Place, Opposite Mill Point.
Last Thursday, a young man, giving his name as O. T. Milam, aged 25 years, surrendered himself to the sheriff at Mill Point and was committed to jail by Justice Curry, on the charge of shooting William Colley. There were no witnesses, and the statements of Milam and Colley vary very materially. It is no unusual thing for Tugs to engage in little shooting matches to settle disputes, but it is generally understood that the law is not to be called in to take a part in the adjustment, and that this shooting is not reported as accidental argues that Colley is only a Tug by adoption, as he really is.
Milam was found in the county. He is a tall dark-skinned man, smooth shaven. He appeared somewhat nervous when he was asked for the details.
Colley married Samantha Perkins and Milam married her daughter, Mary. They moved to the Cline place in April. On the day of the shooting Colley became very disagreeable and made the domestic circle very unpleasant. They all went for mulberries. Arrived at home, Milam and Mrs. Colley worked at stemming them on the porch, and Mrs. Colley called to her husband to come and help.
He replied, “—— you! You say mulberry to me again and I’ll come out and put five of the 38s in you!”
The woman then got scared and left. Milam and Colley got dinner and spent the afternoon together. Milam urged Colley to let the old woman come in out of the rain and was bullied by Colley who had two pistols. Colley threatened to run him off the mountain. Milam asked for his gun, having agreed to go. He got his gun and had got outside of the yard when he heard Colley come to the door and snap a pistol. He whirled and shot him and ran. He heard Colley cry out “Murder! I’m killed!” Milam went to the neighbors and then for the doctor and gave himself up the next day. The gun he used was a mountain rifle, running 108 balls to the pound.
Milam says that Colley is a bad man and was shot in Nicholas county by one Carl McGlaughlin a year or so ago.
Colley’s Account of It
Colley simply says that he was bushwhacked. Milam had departed a few minutes before and had shot him from the hillside a hundred yards away. He was standing in the house with the door open.
Dr. H. W. McNeel is attending the wounded man. The ball struck the collar bone on his right side and ranged down. It is a very serious wound and the recovery of the patient doubtful. The surroundings are the worst imaginable for nursing. Owing to the fact that the ball had glanced from the collarbone, it could not be located. The wound shows unmistakably that the shot was fired from an elevation, and will have great significance owing to the conflicting statement of the principal parties.
Those who attended court in Marlinton in April and June may remember seeing Colley, who was there to answer indictments. He is a thick, heavy-set man, about 45 years old and has the look of a tough customer. He claims to be a graduate of a Tennessee College and he speaks like a man of some education. He claims also to have served in the navy and is fond of relating incidents of his life there, and those who are well read in naval affairs find nothing in his description to discredit the statements. He has cherished two murderous pistols, and was indicted in two cases for carrying such weapons.
Dunmore and its surroundings impress one as a place of grand possibilities and its worthy citizens may be pardoned for cherishing great expectations when railway facilities, so long expected, should materialize. The scenery is poetically attractive, mineral waters of several kinds within the radius of a mile, and sites for machinery propelled by water power exceptionally good. This is the home of the Silver Tongued Auctioneer whose voice and presence is so familiar to our citizenship far and near. The writer hopes the genial Captain will pardon him for the mistake he made when he mistook the whistling of the steamer at the shop for the echoes of his enthusiastic friend’s voice, practicing for a musical concert at the crossroads or Driftwood.
Green Bank is a place of marked importance in the affairs of the county. As was formerly remarked of Pennsylvania, “As goes Pennsylvania, so goes the Union.” So by way of accommodation, “As goes Green Bank, so goes the county.” Hence, it is the “keystone” district even when Split Rock is to be heard from. There are three stores, four resident physicians, a manse, several nice residences occupied by genteel families and two churches generally filled by large, orderly assemblies. For years, there has been a literary society attended by the leading citizens…