again Sir Henry Westwood
Since the triple-named charm
er started his career hehas mar
ried on two continents. A little
trip o 6,000 miles to a fresh mar
riage meant nothing to him. That
is, nothing except more money,
for he was mercenary, and only
married ladies who- had a large
The last marriage was con
tracted Friday morning, and the
'police learned that an hour after
ward he and his" wife started for
the north. He obtained the
money for the trip from Mrs.
Herman Hillbrath, his mother-in-law,
who thought he was going
;away to claim a large estate. The
police haveNabout given up'hope
of catching himfor a'man who
can borrow money from his,motb.-er-in-law
is pretty slick.
His entry into the marital
stakes 'wjas first chalked Up in
1895 in Sydney, Australia. A
year later he married again, and
in 1897 his third wedding was
celebrated""in Toronto, Canada.
Then he skipped four years, but
broke inot the game again in
1901 at Crockett, Cal. Just 'to
show how versatile he was, he
married No. 5 in 1903 in the San
Francisco county jail.
" In between getting married the
bigamist has served several terms
in different prisons for obtaining
money under false pretenses and
forgery. The length of time he
stayed married to one woman de
pended solely on the length of liis
Solomon had 600 wives, but he
was an old, man. This ,one Is
young. Give him a chance.
HOOT MON WANTED TAE
JINE U. S. NAVY
St. Paul, Minn., Feb. 17.
Quartermaster A. Mickelson, re
cruiting' officer for the navy, was
lolling against the doonvay or""
the recruiting office here in a way
no officer of the navy should loll,
when he beheld a most marvel
'Twas a six-foot three and pro
portionately broad shouldered
item of humanity, clad in what
anyone but a Scotsman would
call petticoats. The Scotsman
would call 'em kilts, and get sore
The apparition stopped in
front of Mickelson.
"Hoot mon!" it said.
"Hoot mon yerself," said
Mickelson indignantly. Mickel
son is a touchy man, and he
thought it was some kind of prac
"Ar-r-re ye the recr-ruitin' officer-?"
inquired the indecently,
"I am," said" Mickelson.
"What's it to yuh?"
"I want to jine," said bare
knees, without emotion.
"What as?" sneered Mickel
son. "A topman? Yuh'd look
great on the tops on a windy day
in them clothes."
"But I dinna want taq be a top
mon. I want to jine the band,"
said the braw lad, twitching ner
vously as the peculiarly devilish
St Paul brand of wind, "behaved
as wind occasionally does when
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