The Chicago American is responsible for the following sensational story concerning the diphtheria epidemic at the Zook farm:

Fearing the threats of a hundred farmers, Abram Zook, “divine healer,” consented to a physician attending the diphtheria-stricken inmates of his Mt. Carmel Home in Whiteside- county.

Moved by the warning of Rev. David Gerdes, a. River Brethren preacher, that he would appear before the grand jury, and by the threats of Walter and William Pierce, who said they would shoot him if another case was reported, Zook has forsaken his prayers.

He learned also of the Chicago American’s investigation and exposure of his methods, and reluctantly followed the advice of his followers and called Dr. E. [George] R. Proctor of Coleta.

Friday one hundred pounds of sulphur [sic] were used in fumigating Zook’s two houses— one the training school, and the other the school for orphan girls and boys. Dr, Proctor says all the victims are out of danger for the present, but a strict quarantine will be kept for the next .two weeks upon the farms.

All of Clyde township and the citizens of Chadwick want, the half-starved children taken away and given proper care and food. Residents in the vicinity of Zook’s home tell pitiable stories of how the children are given nothing but mush, and that in meager portions.

Mrs. Mary Tilton says she furnished food for the children, but not one received her gift. Zook and his wife saying they would save it.

Out into the burning hayfields boys from 8 to 14 years are marched each day by Zook and his “brothers,” and made to work with men. Two loads of hay were driven to the barns Friday. On the wagons sat Zook and D. B. Martin, while in the rear carrying the heavy pitchforks, four little boys stumbled along. One of the boys, Benjamin Jackson, suddenly faltered, staggered and fell against the fence, blood rushing from his nose.

“Why, boy, what’s wrong?” a correspondent for the Chicago American asked.

“I’m tired and hungry,” answered the little fellow.

“Why don’t you ride?”

“He won’t let us,” said the youth, pointing to Zook’s broad figure on the wagon.

“Are you hungry?”

“I should say I am. I got meat when I lived in Chicago, but all I get now is mush, and I don’t like it.”

Zook turned around and the boy was instantly all business.

Richard Tilton, a neighboring farmer, says he thinks Zook will not administer the medicine left by Dr. Proctor.

“He may say he will, but you can’t believe a word he says,” said the countryman. “Zook has had a mighty narrow escape from being lynched. All the farmers were in favor of it and still think he should be driven away. The Chicago American gave him a bad scare and we are all glad.”

Zook says he has written Dowie to learn whether the local board of health can quarantine him. Dowie replied, but Zook will not tell what advice was given.

When Dr. Proctor was called he examined the patients, and after prescribing for them ordered the house fumigated. Zook refused to submit to this. He was told, however, that the law of Illinois subjected him to a fine for endangering the lives of the children, and at last gave in. But he would not stay to witness his defeat, and sought a distant hay field, where he prayed loudly for help.

Zook says he gets his power for “divine healing” from Matthew viii:17; Mark xvi:18, and James v:13-16.

“I know what 1 am doing,” he said, ‘‘and if these children were mine I would not give them a drop of these drugs. But I must obey the laws. God will not allow this thing long, however. He will show me a way out of it and I will conquer in his name in the end.”