On The War Path

Glen V. Mills is having trouble. Monday, he killed a dog belouging to a Mrs. Woodbridge, who Uves on Packard-st., and on Thursday the attorneys of that lady were studying all kinds of horrible measures by which to get Glen V.'s scalp. About a week ago the dog bit a young daughter of Mr. Mills, tearing her face badly and causing a very painful wound. The pólice were informed but Mrs. Woodbridge threw them off the track, saying she had sent the dog to Detroit to save his life. Yesterday, however, it was accidentally discovered that the animal had not been sent to Detroit at all but was concealed at the home of a farmer just out of town. The pólice brought the dog to the city and turned it over to the dog catcher. Here carne a ilelay, for the pólice, having gone outside the city limlts for the dog-, wore not aure of their authority. Delay did not suit Mr. Mills, and when the bleeding face of his little girl rose hefore him he ïnuttered something like "authority be hanged." Then he put on war paint, got a gun and wont forth on the war path. He broke into the dog pond and shot the canine dead. Mrs. Woodbridge thought it was just horrld of Glen V. to kill the dear, wee.t creatut'C and put the matter into the hand of her attorneys with inBlrueUons to prosccuto Mr. Mills to Mie extent of the law.