diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/62797-0.txt | 10253 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/62797-0.zip | bin | 193153 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/62797-h.zip | bin | 371105 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/62797-h/62797-h.htm | 10606 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/62797-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 124709 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/62797-h/images/king.jpg | bin | 61916 -> 0 bytes |
9 files changed, 17 insertions, 20859 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..55f943e --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #62797 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/62797) diff --git a/old/62797-0.txt b/old/62797-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7769187..0000000 --- a/old/62797-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10253 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tom Watson's Magazine, Vol. I, No. 1, March -1905, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Tom Watson's Magazine, Vol. I, No. 1, March 1905 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: July 31, 2020 [EBook #62797] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM WATSON'S MAGAZINE, MARCH 1905 *** - - - - -Produced by hekula03, Paul Marshall and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from images made available by the -HathiTrust Digital Library.) - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes: - - Underscores “_” before and after a word or phrase indicate _italics_ - in the original text. - Equal signs “=” before and after a word or phrase indicate =bold= - in the original text. - Small capitals have been converted to SOLID capitals. - Antiquated spellings have been preserved. - Typographical errors have been silently corrected. - - - - -Extract from a three-column review in the _San Francisco Examiner_: - - “Mr. Hastings has touched the very core of the - matter respecting the proclivities of our doddering - plutocracy. Throughout his book he has revealed - that plutocracy in its true light and shown it to - be something utterly conscienceless and debased. - No more scathing review of the situation, as it is - seen at present, could possibly be given in a work - of fiction.” - -[Illustration] - - =SHALL WE - HAVE A - KING?= - - Will the United States be a monarchy in 1975? - Have you read “THE FIRST AMERICAN KING,” by George - Gordon Hastings? It is a dashing romance in which - a scientist and a detective of today wake up - seventy-five years later to find His Majesty, - Imperial and Royal, William I, Emperor of the - United States and King of the Empire State of New - York, ruling the land, with the real power in the - hands of half a dozen huge trusts. Automobiles - have been replaced by phaërmobiles; air-ships sail - above the surface of the earth; there has been a - successful war against Russia; a social revolution - is brewing. The book is both an enthralling - romance and a serious sociological study, which - scourges unmercifully the society and politics of - the present time, many of whose brightest stars - reappear in the future under thinly disguised - names. There are wit and humor and sarcasm - galore—a stirring tale of adventure and a charming - love-story. - - Net $1.00, postpaid. All Booksellers, - or sent postpaid upon receipt of price by - - =TOM WATSON’S MAGAZINE= - 121 West 42d Street, NEW YORK CITY - - - - - =TOM WATSON’S MAGAZINE= - THE MAGAZINE WITH A PURPOSE BACK OF IT - =March, 1905= - - _The Political Situation Thomas E. Watson_ 1 - _To W. J. B.—To President Roosevelt—The Ship Subsidy - —Hearst, the Myth—Mr. Bryan’s Race in Nebraska—Let - the Greenbacks Alone!—En Route to Royalty_ - _The Palace Edwin Markham_ 12 - _The House in the Jungle St. Clair Beall_ 13 - _A Belated Reconciliation Will N. Harben_ 32 - _Franchise Wealth and Municipal Ownership John H. Girdner, M.D._ 40 - _The Storm-Petrel Maxim Gorky_ 44 - _What Buzz-Saw Morgan Thinks W. S. Morgan_ 45 - _A Family Necessity Alex. Ricketts_ 49 - _The Songs We Love Eugene C. Dolson_ 49 - _The Alligator of Blique Bayou Frank Savile_ 50 - _The Boy; His Hand and Pen Tom P. Morgan_ 60 - _The Force of Circumstance Chauncey C. Hotchkiss_ 61 - _An Ideal Cruise in an Ideal Craft Wallace Irwin_ 72 - _The Heritage of Maxwell Fair Vincent Harper_ 73 - _The Butcheries of Peace W. J. Ghent_ 87 - _Remembered Ella Wheeler Wilcox_ 90 - _Martyrdom Leonard Charles van Noppen_ 90 - _The Heroism of Admiral Guldberg Robert Barr_ 91 - _A Sociological Fable F. P. Williams_ 95 - _The Old 10.30 Train Marion Drace_ 96 - _Gallows Gate H. B. Marriott-Watson_ 97 - _The Judge and the Jack Tar Henry H. Cornish_ 105 - _Object, Matrimony Caroline Lockhart_ 106 - _The Rivers of the Nameless Dead Theodore Dreiser_ 112 - _Another View of the Simple Life Zenobia Cox_ 114 - _The Corner in Change William A. Johnston_ 118 - _Car Straps as Disease Spreaders John H. Girdner, M.D._ 124 - _The Say of Reform Editors_ 126 - - Application made for entry as Second-Class Matter at - New York (N. Y.) Post Office, March, 1905 - Copyright, 1905, in U. S. and Great Britain. - Published by TOM WATSON’S MAGAZINE, - 121 West 42d Street, N. Y. - - TERMS: $1.00 A YEAR; 10 CENTS A NUMBER - - - - - =TOM WATSON’S MAGAZINE FOR APRIL= - - =EDITORIALS Hon. THOMAS E. WATSON= - - In Russia—President Roosevelt and the Railroad - Problem—Bribery in Georgia—Who Pays the Taxes? - —The Free Pass Evil, etc., etc. - - =CORRUPT PRACTICES IN POLITICS= - Hon. Lucius F. C. Garvin, - Ex-Governor of Rhode Island - - =THE NEW YORK CHILDREN’S COURT= - Hon. Joseph M. Deuel, - Author of the legislation creating the Court - and one of the Judges presiding therein - - =CONSERVATIVES AND RADICALS= John H. Girdner, M.D. - - =NEW SINS=—Footpace Ethics in a Horse-Power World - Charlotte Perkins Gilman - - =THE CONSTITUTION=—A Document that Needs Revision - - _=FICTION=_ - - WILL N. HARBEN OWEN OLIVER - W. MURRAY GRAYDON Capt. W. E. P. FRENCH, U.S.A. - ELEANOR H. PORTER B. M. BOWER - VINCENT HARPER HUGH PENDEXTER - - - - - _TOM WATSON’S MAGAZINE_ - - VOL. I. MARCH, 1905 No. 1 - - - - - _The Political Situation_ - - - BY THOMAS E. WATSON - -Carefully studied, the election of Nov. 8, 1904, affords more -encouragement to Reformers than any event which has happened since the -Civil War. - -In smashing the fraudulent scheme of Gorman-Hill-McCarren-Belmont, the -people proved that there was still such a thing as public conscience. -The whole Parker campaign was rotten—from inception to final -fiasco—and the manner in which the masses rose and stamped the life -out of it was profoundly refreshing. Roosevelt stood for many things -which the people did not like, but they recognized in him a man instead -of a myth, a reality instead of a sham. - -He had fought abuses in civil life; he had fought the enemies of his -country on the battlefield; he had achieved literary success; he had -been a worker and a fighter all his days. He had faced the coal barons -and virtually brought them to terms; he had bearded the railroad kings -and broken up the Northern Securities Combine. Thus, while he “stood -pat” on many things which the people detested, he stood likewise for -many things they admired, and they gave him a vote larger than that of -his party. - - * * * * * - -Another thing helped Roosevelt. This was the prominence of Grover -Cleveland and his “second administration” gang. Apparently Parker had -no conception of the bitterness with which the masses hate Cleveland. -Because he was cheered by the self-chosen delegates to the St. Louis -convention, because he was given a cut-and-dried ovation by the -business men of New York City, the Democratic bosses seemed to believe -that the more of Cleveland they forced into the campaign the better the -country would like the taste of it. - -So they not only kept Cleveland on exhibition in the most conspicuous -manner, but they dug up John G. Carlisle, Arthur Pue Gorman, Olney -of Massachusetts, and other Cleveland fossils, until Parker’s -identification with Cleveland’s second administration was complete. - -And when _that_ happened, it was “Good-bye Parker!” - - * * * * * - -Cleveland had issued the bonds which Harrison had refused to issue; he -had sold $62,000,000 of these bonds at private sale, _at midnight_, to -J. P. Morgan and his associates; _the price was less than that which -the negroes of Jamaica were getting for their bonds!_ - -August Belmont was Morgan’s partner in that infamous deal. Therefore, -when Cleveland and Belmont got so close to Parker that he couldn’t -breathe without touching them on either side, the suspicion became -violent that the same Wall Street influences which had pledged -Cleveland to a bond issue had pledged Parker to the same thing. - -_There is no reasonable doubt whatever that Parker’s managers had -pledged themselves to another issue of bonds._ - - * * * * * - -How could these bonds have been issued? Easy enough. Cleveland had -invented the process by violating the law; and the Cleveland precedent -still stands. - -To get more bonds, you only need another President who will take orders -from Belmont and Morgan at secret, midnight conferences. - - * * * * * - -Then there was John G. Carlisle. Among political shrubs which are -aromatic, none smells sweeter than he. Not by any other name would he -smell half so sweet. Carlisle was the Whisky Trust representative in -Congress, who made so many speeches for Free Silver and Tariff Reform. -Placed in Cleveland’s cabinet he crawled at the feet of the gold-bugs, -and he wrote a new tariff for the Sugar Trust, which enabled those -robbers to take annual millions from the people in repayment for the -thousands which the Trust had put into the Democratic Campaign fund. - -This man, Carlisle, was exhumed and brought to New York to make another -speech for “Reform” and for Parker! - - * * * * * - -Likewise there was Gorman. With a political ignorance which is hard -to understand, Parker seemed to believe that his salvation depended -upon linking himself to Gorman. He appeared to breathe easy only when -sitting in the lap of Gorman. Nothing in the way of campaign plan could -be sent forth into the world with any hope of success until there -had been a laying-on of hands and a blessing by the cloud-compelling -Gorman. Yet it would seem that a well-informed schoolboy should have -been able to tell Parker that Gorman was one of the best hated men -living. - -When poor people were freezing in the big cities and the Coal Trust was -pitiless, and the golden-hearted Senator Vest of Missouri proposed to -cut the ground from under the feet of the Trust by putting coal upon -the Free List, who was it that virtually said in the United States -Senate, “Let the people freeze; the Trust shall not be weakened”? - -_It was Gorman, of Maryland!_ - - * * * * * - -Who was it that took the Tariff Reform Measure of Wm. L. Wilson and -turned it into an elaborate device for enriching the few at the expense -of the many? - -It was Gorman. - -Who took Sugar off the Free List and put a tax of $45,000,000 upon it? - -Gorman. - -Who increased the McKinley duties upon lumber and nails and wire and -trace-chains and horseshoes and iron-ware which the common people must -use? - -Gorman. - -Who doubled the tax on molasses? - -Gorman. - -Who stands upon the Democratic side in the Senate of the United States -as the champion of the Sugar Trust and all other Democratic Trusts? - -Gorman. - -But Parker could never get enough of Gorman. The people could—and did. -Their votes showed that they wanted no more tariff bills fixed by - -Gorman. - - * * * * * - -Why was the election encouraging to reformers? - -Because it showed such an increase in the independent vote. - -At least a million Independents voted for Roosevelt because they were -hell-bent on beating Parker. In part, they were moved to do this -because of the belief that Roosevelt himself leans to radicalism. His -past record as a reformer gave hope that during the next four years he -would be a powerful factor in bringing about improved conditions. - - * * * * * - -Reformers not only take encouragement from Parker’s loss of votes, but -in the victories won by Douglas, La Follette and Folk. - -Widely separated as were the States of Massachusetts, Wisconsin and -Missouri the fact that the independent voter broke party lines in each -of these States to support a genuine reformer is the most significant -fact among the election results. - -No one can misunderstand it. The people want honest leaders. The people -will follow without flinching. Party names count for nothing. Give the -people a MAN: fearless, honest, aggressive, _standing for something_, -and not afraid to fight for it: the people will follow him to the death. - - * * * * * - -We too often say, “The people are fickle; they won’t stand by their own -leaders!” Ah, friend! Think how often the people have been fooled. See -how many men they have put into office to accomplish reforms. See how -often these leaders have forgotten their pledges as soon as they began -to draw salaries, free passes and perquisites! - -The people have been betrayed so often that they are discouraged. But -don’t you doubt this, brother: Another reform wave is coming, and woe -unto those leaders who seek to check it! - - * * * * * - -Here is the condition of the Democratic Party: - -For four years it is bound to the St. Louis platform, plus Parker’s -gold telegram, plus Parker’s message to Roosevelt “heartily” -congratulating him upon his election. - -For four years Belmont, McCarren, Meyer, Dave Hill, Gorman & Co. have -absolute control of the party machinery. - -For four years the official commander-in-chief, the standard-bearer of -National Democracy is Tom Taggart, the gambling-hell man of French Lick -Springs, Indiana! - - * * * * * - -Commenting upon the campaign, _The Independent_, of New York, says that -Mr. Bryan gave his support to the Democratic ticket, but took back -nothing which he had said about Parker. _The Independent_ is mistaken. -Bryan changed his position so often and so fast that Dr. Holt evidently -failed to keep up. - -In that special-car trip of his through Indiana, Mr. Bryan’s -evolutionary process developed him into a Parker champion, who saw in -the Esopus man “The Moses of Democracy,” one whose “ideals” were the -same as Bryan’s “ideals,” one whose candidacy enlisted Bryan’s support -as cordially as though Bryan “had framed the platform and selected the -nominee.” Oh, yes, that was about what he said, Dr. Holt. - -And when he had finished saying it twenty-two times per day, the -Indiana voter girded up his trousers, trekked to the polls, and voted -for Roosevelt. - - * * * * * - -_To W. J. B._ - -Would you be so kind as to tell us when and where you will commence to -reorganize the Democratic party? You promised to begin “immediately -after the election.” What is your construction of the word -“immediately”? And what did you really mean by “reorganize”? - -Your party is fully organized from top to bottom—from Tom Taggart, the -gambling-hell man, down to Pat McCarren, the Standard Oil lobbyist. How -can you reorganize a party so thoroughly organized? You can’t do it, -you are not trying to do it, and you must have known all along that you -couldn’t do it. - -Watch out, William! The people have loved you and believed in you, but -your course in the last campaign has shaken your popularity to its -very foundations. Beware how you trifle with the radicals. If you want -to come with us, come and be done with it. If you want to go to the -Belmonts and Taggarts, go and be done with it. - -Be assured of this, William—_you can’t ride both horses_! - - * * * * * - -_To President Roosevelt_ - -The people have given you power and opportunity. For four years you will -have a responsibility such as few men have ever had. - -_What Will You Do With It?_ - - * * * * * - -The Express Companies are robbing the people of many millions of -dollars every year in excessive charges for carrying small parcels. In -every civilized land, save ours, the Government carries these small -parcels at a nominal cost, as a part of the postal service. - -In America, a venal Congress keeps the yoke of the Express Companies -fastened upon the people and will not allow the government to establish -a Parcels Post. Mr. President, will you not fix your attention upon -this monstrous abuse? Will you not come into the arena and help us in -the fight for the Parcels Post? - - * * * * * - -Mr. President, the railroads are charging the government $65,000,000 -per year for carrying our mails! This represents a yearly income of -more than two per cent. upon three billion dollars. - -Squeeze out the water, and the railroads of the United States could be -bought for three billion dollars. - -_Therefore, on the carriage of mails alone, your administration is -paying the railroads more than two per cent. upon their entire value!_ - -The Government could float a two per cent. bond at par, and if it -issued enough bonds to pay for all the roads the annual interest charge -would be no greater than we now pay for carrying the mails. - -Can you do nothing about this, Mr. President? Is your strong arm -powerless to defend the people against this high-handed robbery? - - * * * * * - -Mr. President, your administration is now paying the Oceanic Steamship -Company $45,000 per year to carry mails to the semi-savages of Tahiti. -This island is under French control. French steamers offered to carry -these mails for $400 per year. Your administration refused the offer, -and continued to pay an American Corporation $45,000. _Did you know -this, Mr. President? Is there nothing you can do about it? Must the -taxpayers be plundered of $44,600 every year simply because an American -Corporation wants the money?_ - - * * * * * - -Mr. President, is it right that to China and Japan American-made cloth -should be sold cheaper than we Americans can buy it? Is it right that -we should have to pay more for implements to work our fields with than -the South American farmer pays for the same tools? For a hundred years -our manufacturers have been protected from foreign competition in the -home market; they charge us higher prices in this home market than are -paid by any other people on earth; they organize this monopoly into a -Trust, and then they take their surplus goods into foreign markets and -sell them to foreigners at a lower price than they sell to us. Is that -right, Mr. President? - - * * * * * - -How can this evil be corrected? How can the Trusts be curbed? - -By putting on the Free List every article which is sold abroad cheaper -than it is sold here, and every article which enters into the necessary -makeup of the Trust. - - * * * * * - -Mr. President, under your administration corporate wealth escapes -national taxation, as it has done for the past thirty years. - -_Under Abraham Lincoln, the railroads and the manufacturers paid a -federal tax._ - -They pay none now. - -_Under Abraham Lincoln, the vastly overgrown Insurance Companies and -Express Companies paid a federal tax._ - -They pay none now. - -Is that right, Mr. President? - -Why should the poorest mechanic, clerk, storekeeper, printer, farmer, -or mine-worker _pay excessive federal taxes upon the necessaries of -life while the billion dollar corporations pay nothing at all_? - - * * * * * - -_The Ship Subsidy_ - -In his message to Congress the President says: - -“I especially commend to your immediate attention the encouragement of -our merchant marine by appropriate legislation.” - -Does Mr. Roosevelt, like the late Senator Hanna, favor the Ship -Subsidy? Is the government going to hire merchants to go to sea? Are we -to have hothouse commerce sustained at the expense of the taxpayers? - - * * * * * - -What ails our merchant marine? Why cannot American merchants compete -with British and German merchants on the ocean? - -Simply because our own laws will not allow it. Our navigation acts have -destroyed the American merchant marine. - -How? - -By denying registry and the protection of the flag to any ship not -built in one of our own shipyards. We are not allowed to buy vessels -from England, Scotland or Germany without losing the protection of our -government. We must build them at home. Our precious tariff increases -the cost of all shipbuilding material, while in Great Britain vessels -are built under free trade conditions. Hence it costs us more to -build any sort of seagoing vessel than it costs Great Britain. If we -were allowed to buy ships abroad we could get them on equal terms -with British merchants. Consequently we could compete with them for -the carrying trade. We would get our share. The American Merchant -Marine would once more flourish as it did prior to the Civil War. The -Tariff compels the merchant to pay more for an American ship than the -Englishman pays for an English ship, and our Navigation laws compel the -American merchant to use the American ship or none. - -Result: The Englishman gets the business. - - * * * * * - -It was just this kind of legislation which provoked the preliminary -troubles between Great Britain and the American Colonies. Our -forefathers hated the British navigation acts; the sons copied them. -Great Britain grew wise, swung to Free Trade, and took the seas away -from us. Our navigation acts represent the most violent type of the -Protective madness. To deny the merchant the right to buy his vessel -where he can get it cheapest is mere lunacy. The cheapest and best -ships will inevitably get the cargoes; and where the law denies to the -American the chance to get the cheapest and best vessel it simply puts -him out of the combat. - -Our Navigation acts have done that identical thing. - - * * * * * - -What is the remedy? Senator Hanna wanted “ship subsidies.” In other -words, the merchant was to be encouraged to go into the shipping -business by the assurance that the Government would go down into the -pockets of the taxpayers and pull out enough money to make good the -difference between the costly ships of America and the cheaper, better -ships of Great Britain. - -To escape the effects of one bad law, Senator Hanna proposed that -Congress should pass another. The Tariff, which plunders the many to -enrich the few (see recent remarks of Parker and Cleveland), has killed -the merchant marine; therefore the merchant marine must be restored to -life, not at the expense of the enriched few, but of the plundered many. - - * * * * * - -The merchant marine has been destroyed by the system which is “the -mother of the Trusts,” by the system which sells to foreign consumers -at a lower price than to home consumers. - -Why not encourage our merchant marine by allowing our merchants -_to buy their vessels in those foreign markets where our Protected -Manufacturers sell their wares so much cheaper than they sell them to -us at home_? - - * * * * * - -Would it not be the most shameless kind of class legislation to take the -tax money of the unprivileged masses of our people (who pay practically -all the taxes), and build up fortunes for another class of privileged -shipowners. - -The beneficiaries of protection are the few: its victims are the many. - -Thus the favored few get all the benefits of protection and escape all -its evils; while the unprivileged many bear all of its evils and reap -none of its benefits. - - * * * * * - -We are told that Great Britain and Germany subsidize their merchant -marine and that therefore our government must do it. The argument -would be contemptible even if the facts supported it, but that is not -the case. Great Britain does not subsidize her merchant marine nor -does Germany do so. Great Britain pays certain lines for specific mail -service and colonial service; nothing more. Germany does likewise. -Neither country _hires_ merchants to go to sea about their own business. - -There is no more statesmanship in hiring a mariner to engage in private -business between New York and Liverpool than there would be in hiring -John Wanamaker to establish another branch of his mercantile business -in San Francisco or Terra Del Fuego. Such legislation as that is -_Privilege run mad_. - - * * * * * - -When Napoleon encouraged the beet sugar industry in France by bounties -he may have done a wise thing. France was under his despotic control; -commerce with the world was cut off; internal development became the -law of self-preservation. - -But no imperial sceptre rules the ocean. There can be no monopoly of -the use of her myriad highways. Amid her vast areas, natural law mocks -the puny contrivances of men. Competition is free. The ocean race is to -the swift; the battle is to the strong. Whoever can do the work, do it -quickest, cheapest, surest, best, will do it—American bounties to the -contrary notwithstanding. - -Take off the rusty fetters which bind the limbs of the American seaman -and he will need no bounty. Give him a fair start, an open course, and -he will outrun the world. Keep the chains on him—and he will never win! - -Suppose you give bounties to the shipper, then what? To the extent of -the bounty he will do business—no further. And you will soon find -that you have attracted mercenary corporations who do business for the -bounty, the whole bounty, and nothing but the bounty. - -We tried this ship subsidy business once before—from 1867 to 1877. -What was the result? Scandals and failure. Congress took more than six -and a half million dollars of the people’s money, gave it to greedy -corporations and got nothing in return save a fit of disappointment and -disgust which lasted the country till the advent of Hanna. - -We earnestly hope that President Roosevelt will look into the record -of the former subsidy experiment before he ever signs a bill of like -character. - - * * * * * - -In 1856 a little more than three-fourths of all our exports and imports -were carried in American bottoms. In 1881 seventy-two million bushels -of grain were shipped from New York to Europe, and not one bushel of it -went in American ships. - -Less than one-sixth of our marine freight was handled by ourselves in -1881, and the amount has gone on dwindling. - -Great Britain improved her methods of building ships; built cheaper and -better vessels than ours. The law did not permit us to buy from her, -but did permit her to bring her ships into our waters and capture our -trade; and so she captured it. - -We are the only people in the world who are not allowed to buy ships -wherever we can buy them cheapest. We are the only serfs alive who -are chained hand and foot to obsolete Navigation laws. And to escape -the logical consequences of our folly we do not propose to repeal the -monstrous laws which led us into the difficulty, but we do propose to -compel the taxpayers to make good, by subsidies, the difference between -the costly American ship and the cheaper, better European ship! - -When statesmanship gets down to that low ebb its morality is gone. - -A venal Congress may pass such a measure, but we do not believe an -honest President will sign it. - - - _Hearst, the Myth_ - -Because he is not perpetually making an exhibit of himself, a good many -shallow politicians sneer at W. R. Hearst and call him a myth. - -Because he is not everlastingly on his feet reeling off speeches which -come from nowhere and go nowhere, the average regulation “orator” looks -down upon the modest, silent man from New York as a very inferior -mortal, indeed. - -Yet W. R. Hearst, with all his shyness and silence, has a way of -hitting out quick, hard and sure that does more good for the people -than all the “orators” have done in the last decade. If there is -anything on this blessed earth that we have got enough of at this -time, it is talk, _talk_, TALK! From Presidents in fact and Presidents -in prospectus, from Senators of all shades and Congressmen of every -variety down to oratorical Federal Judges, College Doctors and -legislative lights we have floods of talk, _talk_, TALK! The misery -of it all is that this oratory doesn’t mean anything. It strikes a -bee-line for the waste basket. - -It lives today, echoes tomorrow, and is forgotten the day after. The -orator himself thinks only of the success of the speech. He drinks in -the immediate applause, he gloats over the newspaper puffs, he puts -out his chest, he is happy: and that is all. The speech accomplishes -nothing; was not meant to accomplish anything. Perhaps the orator -himself voted for the thing which he denounced, as happened with the -Panama business when Democratic “orators” spoke on one side and voted -on the other. Now if there is anything which the American people are -sick unto death of, it is this kind of patent-medicine oratory. What -we all want just now is that men shall become _workers_ instead of -automatic spellbinders. We want men who actually do something—men who -have ideas, plans, practical resources; men who will literally take -up their clubs and hammer away at monstrous abuses wherever they show -their heads. - -Such a man is W. R. Hearst. By his assault upon the Coal Trust he has -exposed the heartless methods of capitalism and laid the foundations -for much good work in the future. By his swift, successful attack upon -the Gas Trust, which, by the collusion of city officials, was about to -steal seven million dollars from the taxpayers of New York, he has set -an example which should inspire every reformer in the Union. - -May his courage become contagious! May his example breed imitations! -May his firmness in standing for the rights of the people raise up -enemies to the Trusts throughout the land! - -Mr. Hearst is a Democrat; the corrupt officials who were about to -surrender the treasury of New York to the Gas Trust were Democrats; -that fact did not bother him in the least. Rascality is doubly odious -when it borrows a good name; and the honest Democrat did not hesitate -to bring his injunction down like a flail upon the heads of the -dishonest Democrats who were betraying their trust. - -We wish we could swap a couple of hundred “orators” for another myth -like William R. Hearst. - - - _Mr. Bryan’s Race in Nebraska_ - -In a recent issue of his paper, Mr. Bryan says, referring to Mr. Watson: - - The small vote which he received—a vote much - smaller than Populists, Democrats, and even - Republicans expected him to receive—shows either - that there are few who agree with him as to the - course of action to be pursued or that they did - not have confidence in his leadership. It is not - only more charitable, but more in accordance with - the facts, to assume that the reformers had personal - confidence in Mr. Watson, but did not agree with - him as to the best method of securing remedial - legislation. - -This paragraph reminds me that Mr. Bryan was likewise a candidate in -the year 1904. - -He ran for the United States Senate in the State of Nebraska, and he -got no votes to speak of. Out of 133 members of the Legislature, he -captured less than a dozen. - -The small vote which he received—a vote much smaller than Populists, -Democrats and even Republicans expected him to receive—shows either -that there are few who agree with him as to the course of action to be -pursued, or that they did not have confidence in his leadership. “It is -not only more charitable, but”—and so forth. - -Mr. Bryan says that “reforms are not to be secured all at once.” Quite -right; and they will never be secured at all by leaders who change -front as often as Mr. Bryan has done within the last twelve months. -Neither will they be secured by a political party which preaches a -certain creed for eight years and then throws it aside like a worn out -garment. Nor will reforms ever be secured by a party which contains -so many different sorts of Democrats that nobody knows which is the -genuine variety. - - - _Let the Greenbacks Alone!_ - -To the right, to the left, in front, in the rear, we are beset by -problems, abuses, critical conditions, wrongs crying for redress, -victims of legislative injustice demanding relief. That a President of -the United States should be blind to so many self-evident conditions, -deaf to so many sounds of suffering, and should go out of his way to -strike at the Greenback currency is a fact to cause astonishment. - -What harm is the Greenback doing to anybody? What evil has it ever -wrought? - -The approval of Lincoln gave it life; the soldier who fought for the -Union, when Roosevelt was in the cradle, was paid with it; the Union -armies were fed and clothed with it when gold had run off and hid. The -Greenback saved the Government in its hour of need, and it has done -good each day of its life ever since. If we had five times as much of -it as now exists, the country would be twice as well off. - -Who is it that hates the Greenback? - -The National Banker. - -Why? - -Because the National Banker would like to have the monopoly of -supplying the paper currency. The Government circulates $346,000,000 -Greenbacks; the National Banker circulates $400,000,000 of his own -notes. - -The bank-notes earn compound interest for the banker; the Greenbacks -earn no interest at all. Therefore, they compete with the notes of the -banker. They interfere with his business. As long as they exist, he has -no absolute monopoly. - -Therefore what? - -The National Banker hates the Greenback just as the Standard Oil -detests the independent companies. For the same reason which moves -the Coal Barons, the Beef Trust and the Tobacco Trust to wage -relentless war upon the independent dealer, the money power demands the -suppression of the Greenback. If the National Bankers can destroy the -Greenback, they can fill its place with their own notes. Loaned out at -lawful interest, compounded at the usual periods, they will wring from -the people a yearly tribute of nearly thirty million dollars. In other -words, the country now gets Greenbacks free of charge, whereas the -bank-notes to replace them will cost $30,000,000 per annum. I can see -how this will benefit the bankers; but whom else will it benefit? - -One of the strangest hallucinations that ever entered the legislative -mind is that a banker’s note, based on national credit, is good, safe, -sane currency, while the Government’s own note, based on national -credit, is unsafe, unsound and not to be tolerated. The first -legislators who saw the thing that way were probably hired to do it. -The example having been set, ignorance, prejudice and self-interest -helped to swell the numbers of the converts, until now the men who -cling to the belief that a Government note, issued by the Government -itself would be as good as that which it authorizes the banker to -issue, are in a helpless minority. - -If the Government buys paper, sets up a press, stamps a note and issues -it as currency, the banker howls “_Rag Money_!” The subsidized editor -takes up the dismal refrain, the limber-kneed politician tunes his -mouth to the echo, the wise men of the academy quit gerund-grinding to -talk finance, and with one accord the orthodox repeat the jeer of “_Rag -Money_,” “_Rag Baby_” and “_Dishonest Dollar_,” until the Government -lets _the banker take the paper, the press, the stamp and issue the -notes as his own_! Then it is all right. The editor’s soul is soothed; -the politician purrs with satisfaction; the savant of the academy -returns to his Greeks and Romans. All is well. The bankers issue their -currency, grow fat on usury, and the principles of high finance are -vindicated. _The paper currency of the Government is a “Rag Baby”; the -paper money of the National Banker is “Sound Money.”_ - -So, we let the bankers exploit a governmental function to their immense -profit, when the Government could use the function itself, to the -injury of nobody, and to the vast benefit of the people at large. But -if the Government did this thing, the National Banker would lose his -special privilege, his unjust advantage, his huge gains. - -Hence, he not only refuses to permit the Government to supply the -country with any more Greenbacks, but he demands the destruction of -those already outstanding. I regret to see President Roosevelt lending -himself to this wicked proposition. - -Cleveland, during the whole time he was in office, was hostile to the -Greenbacks and recommended that they be destroyed. Nobody was surprised -at this. In fact, Cleveland had exhausted the capacity of honest men to -be surprised. - -But the country hoped for better things from Mr. Roosevelt. He was -thought to be too strong a man to be the blind tool of the National -Bankers. - -The Greenback is hurting nobody, is doing great good; its only enemy -is the National Banker, whose motive is sordidly selfish. LET THE -GREENBACK ALONE! - -If the President will take the trouble to study for himself the -financial statements issued by his own subordinates, he will discover a -state of things which would otherwise be incredible. - -He will find that _the bankers are drawing compound interest on more -money than there is in existence_! - -He will find that _they reap usurious revenues from three times as much -money as there is in actual circulation_! - -He will find that _they have drawn interest upon seven times as much -money as_ THEY ACTUALLY HAVE! - -Under the law of its birth, the Greenback is real money. Like gold -and silver, it comes direct from the Government to the people. If you -burn it, and do not supply its place, _you contract the currency at a -time when such contraction means national disaster_. If you burn the -Greenback, and allow the National Banker to supply its place with his -own notes, then _you rob the people of thirty million dollars annually -and give the spoils to the banker_! - -He already earns about $50,000,000 per year on his special privilege of -issuing currency. - -_Isn’t that enough?_ - -He already enjoys the use of one hundred million dollars of the tax -money which _other people pay into the treasury_; and he fattens on the -luxury of getting this money free of interest and of lending it out at -compound interest to the “_other people_.” - -_Isn’t that enough?_ - -And he has filled the channels of trade with his “lines of credit,” his -loans of money which has no existence save in the confidence of his -dupes, _until his yearly income from fictitious money is half as great -as the entire revenues of the Government!_ - -ISN’T THAT ENOUGH? - -The Greenback is the barrier which stands between the National Banker -and absolute financial despotism. - -LET IT ALONE! - - - _En Route to Royalty_ - -The approaching inauguration of President Roosevelt is to be the most -king-like ceremony ever witnessed on the American Continent. - -Three thousand troops of the regular Army, twenty thousand soldiers of -the National Guard, the Cadets from West Point and Annapolis will take -part in the parade, and battleships of the Navy will be ordered to the -Potomac to add to the pompous function. - -From the White House to Capitol Hill, Pennsylvania avenue is to be -built up on either side with statuary and decorations and plaster work, -which will at least wear the mask of regal magnificence. - -The Government will turn its Pension Bureau out of house and home, -suspending public work, in order that Society’s beaux and belles may -have the most magnificent ball ever known since our Government was -founded. - -First and last, directly and indirectly, it is quite within the range -of the probable that the public and private expenditure of money in -connection with Mr. Roosevelt’s inauguration will approach, if not -exceed, a million dollars. - -Is it in good taste for the representative of a democratic republic to -give his sanction to such prodigalities as these? - -Mr. Roosevelt is bound to know that there are ten millions of his -fellow-citizens, fashioned by the same God out of the same sort of -clay, who are today in want—lacking the necessaries of life. - -He is bound to know that in this land, which they tell us is so -prosperous, there are now four million paupers. - -He is bound to know that there are at least one million half-starved -children working in our factories, wearing out their little lives at -the wheels of labor, in order that the favorites of class legislation -may pile up the wealth which enables them to dine sumptuously off -vessels of silver and gold. - -He is bound to know that in one city of his native State of New York -there are at least half a million of his brother mortals who never have -enough to eat, and that seventy thousand children trudge to the public -schools, hungry as they go. - -He is bound to know that all over the Southern States hangs a shadow -and a fear, because an industrious people, whose toil brought forth -a bountiful harvest, are being driven by a remorseless speculative -combine into misery and desperation. - -It would have been a proof of excellent judgment if the robust manhood -of Theodore Roosevelt had asserted itself against the snobbery of our -shoddy “Society” in Washington, by reducing the ceremonial of his -inauguration to the modest measure of what was decorous and necessary. - -It is no time for ostentatious display of military power or of -ill-gotten wealth. It is no time to be acting the ape of a German -Kaiser or an English King. It is no time to allow free rein to a rotten -Nobility of Money-bags, which seeks to turn the simple swearing-in of -the Chief Servant of a free people—freely chosen by ballot—into a -quasi-royal coronation of an hereditary beneficiary of the monstrous -dogma of Divine Right. - -_One_ of Mr. Roosevelt’s predecessors had long been familiar with -courts and princes and kings, and they had filled him with so deep a -contempt for idle, vain and pompous display that when he came to be -inaugurated President of the United States he simply gathered around -him a few of those who were at his hotel, walked with them up Capitol -Hill, took the oath of office before his assembled fellow-citizens and -delivered to them his inaugural address—which still ranks as a classic -in the political literature of the world. - -This President was he who broke the power of the Barbary Pirates to -whom Washington had paid tribute. He it was who by the daring seizure -of opportunity gained Louisiana and raised this Republic from its place -as a power of the third class into the dignity of a nation of the first -class, by a sweep of his pen, lifting our Western boundary from the -Mississippi and setting it on the coast line of the Pacific. - -His inauguration was simplicity itself, but his administration was full -of the grandeur of great deeds accomplished. - -_This was Thomas Jefferson._ - -_Another_ of Mr. Roosevelt’s predecessors had been _a hero in three -wars_. In the Revolutionary War he had fought bravely, though only a -boy. In the Indian wars he had led armies from the upper Chattahoochee -to the Gulf of Mexico, adding an empire to our domain. In the War of -1812 he had taken the volunteers of the South, and at New Orleans had -whipped the veterans of Wellington as English soldiers had never been -whipped before and have never been whipped since. - -Entering civil life, this great soldier dashed himself against the -power of Clay, Webster and Calhoun, triumphing over them all. - -Yet when he came to be inaugurated President of the Republic whose -glory and power he had so greatly increased, it contented him to go -quietly from the old Metropolitan Hotel, accompanied by the Marshal of -the District and a volunteer escort, to take the oath of office in the -Senate Chamber, without the slightest attempt at pompous ceremonial. - -The great soldier was honored by a salute fired by the local military, -and, with that salute, the function ended. - -_This was Andrew Jackson._ - -I do not say that times have not changed and that customs have not -altered, but I do say that the sober judgment of the judicious, -throughout the country, would have profoundly approved the course of -Mr. Roosevelt had he put the curb upon the snobs and the flunkies and -the imitation courtiers, who are about to distinguish his inauguration -by an excess of military display, ornamental frippery, tommy-rot -formalities and prodigal expenditure of money such as has not been -known since Edward the Seventh was crowned King of England. - - - _Elucidations_ - - FADS—Other people’s hobbies. - ALLOWANCE—A sum of money we spend before we get it. - PESSIMIST—A person who is perfectly happy only when - he is perfectly miserable. - HUSH MONEY—The kind that talks most. - A DISTANT RELATIVE—A rich one. - BARGAIN COUNTER—A place where women buy things they don’t - want with money they do want. - WEATHER REPORT—One that is not always verified. - HONEYMOON—The brief period before the novelty wears off. - NOTORIETY—Something that doesn’t last so long as fame, - but brings in more money. - THE SIMPLE LIFE—The existence led by people who invest - in get-rich-quick schemes. - - J. J. O’CONNELL. - - - - - _The Palace_ - - BY EDWIN MARKHAM - (Copyright by Edwin Markham in Great Britain) - _Author of “The Man With the Hoe” and other poems_ - - - Once, in a world that has gone down to dust, - I began to build a palace by the sea, - White-pillared, in a garden full of fountains. - The mock-birds in the tall magnolias sang; - And down all ways the Graces and the Joys - Went ever beckoning with wreathing arms. - The chisels and the hammers of the men - Were singing merrily among the stones, - And tower and gable rose against the sky. - - A thousand friends, - All hastening to make ready for the feast, - Felt their light bodies whirling in the ball; - Were jesting and roaring at the tables spread - After the masquerade; were sleeping high - In perfumed chambers under the quiet stars; - When, lo! a voice came crying through my heart: - “Leave all thou hast, and come and follow Me!” - - Then all at once the hammers and the tongues - Grew still around me, and the multitudes— - The endless multitudes that ache in chains - That we may have our laughter at the wine— - Rose spectral and dark to pass before my face. - I saw the labor-ruined forms of men; - Faces of women worn by many tears; - Faces of little children old in youth. - - I left the towers to crumble in the rains, - And waste upon the winds: my old-time friends - Flung out their fleering laughters after me. - I raised a low roof by a traveled road, - And softly turned to give myself to man— - To open wells along a trodden way, - To build a wall against the sliding sand, - To raise a light upon a dangerous coast; - When suddenly I found me in a Palace - With God for Guest! - - There in a Palace, fairer than my dream, I dwell: - High company come and go through distant-sounding doors. - - - - - _The House in the Jungle_ - - BY ST. CLAIR BEALL - _Author of “The Winning of Sarenne,” etc._ - - -“We are almost there now, sir; we have passed the last of the -lighthouses.” - -The speaker and another man were standing beside the cabin of a -small steamer; they were clad in heavy oilskins, and were sheltering -themselves from the fierce storm that was beating down. - -“I don’t see how you can tell,” the other remarked, “or how you can see -anything in this weather!” - -“Oh, it’s my business,” was the reply of the first speaker, who was -one of the officers of the ship. “I have been over this same route for -thirty years.” - -“What sort of a town is St. Pierre?” inquired the other, a young man, -also heavily wrapped. - -“It is not of much consequence,” was the answer. “But—but you don’t -mean to stay there?” - -“No,” was the reply. “I am bound for the interior; I shall take a train -tonight, if I can catch it.” - -“I should think you would find it rather difficult to get along in -this country,” the other remarked. “You say you don’t speak a word of -French?” - -“No,” was the laughing reply. “I chose German when I was at school, and -I don’t know enough of that to hurt me; but where I am going I have a -cousin who is in charge of some of the mines, and I suppose I will get -along if I can find him.” - -“You ought not to have any trouble in that,” replied the officer. “The -only railroad depot is very near the wharf.” - -The conversation was taking place on board a small coasting steamer, -which was making its way slowly through the darkness and storm into the -port of the little town of St. Pierre, in French Guiana. The solitary -passenger was Henry Roberts, an American, who found himself at last -near the end of a long and tedious journey—half by railroad and half -by steamer—along the South American coast. - -“Four days,” he muttered to himself, “and not a soul to speak to but -this one stray fellow-countryman! Between Spanish and French and Dutch -my head is in a whirl. Gee whiz! What a night!” - -The exclamation was prompted by an unusually violent gust of wind, -which flung itself around the edge of the cabin and compelled the -passenger to make a precipitate retreat into the hot and ill-lighted -interior. However, it was not very long before his impatience was -relieved. The vessel was slowing up still more, and he hurried up on -deck again, where, from the shouts of the crew, he made out that the -dock was near. - -“I wish you luck!” said the officer, as they parted. “I have looked -up a time-table, and there is a train due to leave in about an hour; -it probably won’t start for three or four more, after the fashion of -the country, so you will have plenty of time. You ought to reach your -destination before morning, however.” - -And soon afterward Henry Roberts with a satchel in either hand, made -his way across the rickety gangplank and set out as fast as he dared -down the unlighted dock. He was gruffly held up by someone who greeted -him in French, and left him uncertain for a few minutes as to whether -or not he was a highwayman. It proved, however, to be merely a -custom-house officer, and after the usual ceremony of tipping had been -gone through with, the passenger once more set out. - -He was half expecting to be greeted by a row of cabmen, but if any such -existed in St. Pierre they had been frightened away by the storm, and -he was compelled to find his way to the station by himself. He found -only a dimly lighted shed, with apparently no person in sight. To his -great relief, however, the train arrived only a short time afterward, -and he made his way into the stuffy car, which was lighted only by an -ill-smelling oil lamp at one end. - -There was another long wait before the train finally started, having on -board only one other passenger besides Roberts. - -This person was, apparently, either an Englishman or an American—a -tall, slenderly built man with an exceedingly pale face. As he came -into the car very silently and seated himself at the extreme end, -turning away as if to escape observation, Roberts refrained from -attempting to open a conversation with him. - -Though he did not understand a word of French, he had the name of his -station firmly settled in his mind and lost no time in impressing it -upon the conductor of the train. When he had made certain that the -latter perfectly understood his meaning he sank back in the seat and -closed his eyes with a peaceful feeling that at last his troubles -were over. The road was, however, a remarkably ill-built one and the -car swayed in such a manner that he found it impossible to secure a -moment’s rest. He fell at last to watching the other passenger. - -This person had at first remained with his head sunk forward as if in -thought; but the ride had continued only about half an hour before -Roberts saw that his fellow-traveler was looking up and gazing about -nervously. Several times he leaned forward suddenly, as if to spring to -his feet, but each time he again sank back, and once the American heard -him mutter a subdued exclamation to himself. - -He seemed to be growing more and more excited. And then suddenly came -the climax of the whole unusual performance. The man bounded to a -standing position, an expression of the wildest terror on his face. “I -can’t do it!” he gasped, in a choking voice. An instant later he leaped -forward. - -There was a window in front of him, and for an instant Roberts thought -that he meant to fling himself from it. But, instead, the man reached -for the bell-rope and gave it a fierce jerk. - -The effect was immediate, the train at once beginning to slow up. The -strange man turned and rushed down the car, his eyes gleaming and his -arms waving wildly. “I can’t do it!” he cried again and again. “I can’t -do it!” - -In a second or two more he had passed Roberts and bounded out of the -rear door, where he disappeared in the darkness. - -At the same time the conductor, who had apparently been on the engine, -came rushing back to ascertain what was the matter. As the two hurried -back to the rear platform Roberts managed to make the man understand -what had occurred. - -“The fellow must have been crazy,” Roberts thought to himself, as he -gazed out into the blackness of the night. “At any rate,” he added, “it -is not likely that we will see anything more of him.” - -The conductor was evidently of the same opinion, for after several -minutes of waiting and after a consultation with the engineer, the -train was again started and the journey continued. - -The conductor signified to Roberts that the next stop was his -destination, and a quarter of an hour later he found himself in the -midst of absolute blackness. The train had started on at once, and the -passenger stood for several minutes uncertain which way to turn, for -there was not a house, nor even so much as a platform beneath his feet. - - - II - -At last, however, as his eyes grew used to the darkness, he managed to -make out what appeared to be some kind of structure nearby, and toward -it he stumbled. It was a small shed, in the shelter of which he stopped. - -“Good heavens!” he muttered to himself. “What kind of a town can this -be?” - -His cousin had unfortunately not known when he was to arrive, and the -mines, as he knew, were a number of miles away, so he had nothing to -hope for from that quarter. - -“Perhaps there is only this shed and the road!” he groaned to himself. -“Not even a hotel!” - -There was no sign of one, at any rate, and the storm did not encourage -efforts at exploration. “Perhaps if I give a few yells it will bring -somebody,” thought Roberts. - -He reflected that it was as likely to bring a wildcat as anything else, -but he determined to risk the effort. He had scarcely opened his mouth, -however, before his shout was answered; and at the same moment his ear -was caught by the sound of a vehicle behind him. - -He waited anxiously. He heard the carriage come to a stop and then a -couple of men walking about. They came toward the shed, and he found -himself confronted by two dark forms, heavily wrapped as a protection -against the storm. - -“_Bien venu, monsieur_,” remarked one of the strangers. He extended -his hand, and Roberts, supposing that that might be the custom of the -country, put out his own and exchanged greetings. - -“_Monsieur est arrivé?_” continued the other. “_Un très longue voyage!_” - -Roberts’s reply to that was only a melancholy shake of his head. “What -in the world did I study German for?” he groaned to himself. - -“_Vous ne comprenez pas?_” continued the mysterious Frenchman. - -A vigorous shake of the head was the American’s only reply. “Don’t you -speak English?” - -The only result was likewise a negative shaking of the head, and the -American gave a groan. - -“I want a hotel!” he exclaimed. “Can you tell me where to go? What in -the world am I going to do?” - -There was a minute or two more of rather embarrassing silence. Then the -spokesman of the two strangers gave a hearty laugh. - -“_Allons!_” he said. “_Cela ne fait rien._” - -And, to Roberts’s surprise, he stooped down and picked up one of his -traveling-bags. - -“_Allons!_” he cried again. “_Allons!_” - -The man took the traveler by the arm and escorted him to the carriage, -which had remained standing in the darkness. In a few seconds more the -American and his baggage were inside and being rapidly driven off down -the muddy road. - -“Well, this is an adventure!” thought Roberts to himself. “Either I -have come across some charitable stranger or else the hotel here runs a -stage—I don’t know which to think!” - -During the ride the two men made no further attempt to communicate with -him. Roberts heard them speak to each other once or twice in a low -voice, but for the most of the time the drive was made in silence. - -“At any rate,” he thought, with a chuckle, “it can’t do me any harm, -and I shall get out of the rain.” - -Before the trip was over, however, Roberts found himself beginning -to feel somewhat uncomfortable because of the length of it. “Good -heavens!” he muttered, “it can’t be a hotel this distance away, and for -all I know, I may be going in exactly the opposite direction from the -mines!” - -He had already been sitting in the bumping vehicle for an hour when -he made that reflection; however, he was given fully another hour to -ruminate over it before the drive came to an end. Several times he made -an attempt to inquire from the strangers where or how much farther -he was going, but his efforts met with no success, and a “_Soyez -tranquille_,” was all he could get, accompanied by a gentle motion of -pushing him back into the seat. - -He had about made up his mind to trouble himself no further when the -carriage suddenly made a sharp turn and came to a stop; one of the men -opened the door and stepped out. - -There was a few seconds’ wait, during which several voices were heard -calling outside; and then suddenly Roberts, who was gazing out of the -window with not a little anxiety, caught sight of a light, apparently -in the window of a house. Only a short distance from the carriage a -flood of light suddenly streamed before his eyes, coming from an open -doorway. - -He saw several figures moving about, and at the same time the other man -in the carriage sprang quickly out. - -“_Nous sommes arrivés!_” he exclaimed. “_Voici!_” - -And Roberts lost no time in taking his other satchel and springing out -of the carriage. As he did so he found himself covered by an umbrella -held by a shadowy form near him, and under the protection of this he -hurried up the path and the steps to the house. - -By this time more lights had appeared in the windows, and by the single -glance which he had Roberts saw that he was in front of a very large -building, consisting of at least two stories, and with extremely broad -and, at present, brilliantly lighted windows. It was only a few seconds -later before he found himself in the entrance, which he discovered to -be apparently that of an elegant mansion. - -“Good gracious!” he thought, “I wasn’t prepared for a house like this!” - -But there were still greater surprises in store for him. He found that -on either side of the doorway two domestics were standing, bowing -obsequiously at his entrance. The person who had obligingly covered him -with the umbrella proved to be an attendant, similarly attired, and as -Roberts entered the house one stepped forward for his satchel, and the -other took his rain-soaked hat as he removed it; a second later the -astonished man found himself being graciously relieved of his dripping -overcoat by yet another obliging personage. - -In the meantime he was gazing about him; what he saw fairly took his -breath away. He was no more prepared for such things than if he had -been traveling in the wilds of Africa. He found himself in the midst -of a broad, well-lighted hallway, on either side of which opened -splendid parlors containing every conceivable kind of luxurious -appointment—splendid furniture and tapestry, mirrors and pictures. -In the hall he saw a broad, open fireplace, in which a great log was -blazing, casting a glow in every direction. - -While Roberts was staring at it, and feeling his heart expand with -satisfaction, one of his traveling companions carrying the other -satchel, had come hurrying into the room. He took off his hat and -flung back his heavy coat, disclosing to the American’s view a rather -stout and short elderly personage, with a gray beard and an extremely -pleasant countenance. - -“He looks promising, at any rate,” thought Roberts, “even if I can’t -understand what he says!” - -The man, after handing his coat to one of the domestics, bowed -graciously to Roberts with another “_Bien venu, monsieur!_” Then he -signaled the American to make himself comfortable before the fire, and -Roberts lost no time in following his host’s suggestion, as he had been -wet and cold for many hours. - -“If this is an inn,” the stranger thought in the meantime—“gee whiz! -but what will the bill be!” - -All his belongings had by this time been carried away by the servants -and he was left alone with his obliging host. The latter, after rubbing -his hands a few times before the fire and surveying his guest with -considerable interest, suddenly demanded: - -“_Avez-vous faim, monsieur?_” - -The American, of course, did not understand that, but he comprehended -the signal a second later, and nodded his head vigorously. The other -called for one of the servants and gave him a command. - -The latter signed to Roberts to precede him up the broad staircase -which opened into the hallway, and he soon found himself in front of an -open door which led into a beautifully furnished bedroom. He entered, -and the man followed, closing the door behind him. - -Roberts gazed about him with something of a gasp of consternation. Here -also was a grate fire, before which his hat and coat had been hung. -The rest of his baggage had been brought into the room, and lying upon -the bed he found a complete change of clothing, lacking nothing, from -necktie down to evening slippers. - -Almost before he had half succeeded in comprehending the state of -affairs the servant, after several profuse bows, had set to work calmly -removing his clothing. - -Roberts was not used to a valet, but he concluded to keep the secret as -well as possible and meekly allowed himself to be dressed. Half an hour -later he was completely equipped, and the servant darted briskly to the -door and opened it with an overwhelming bow. - -“If this is a hotel, it beats anything New York can show,” was the -traveler’s decision by this time. “And if it is not a hotel, it can -only be a fairy-story!” - -However, without troubling his head any further, he followed the -servant down the stairs, at the end of which he found his genial host -awaiting his arrival. The latter immediately took his arm and escorted -him through one of the parlors, at the other end of which a door was -flung open by the servant. - -A little dining-room was disclosed to his view—a dining-room so -perfect in all its furnishings that it cost him an effort to restrain -an exclamation. The table was a small one, but was perfectly appointed, -with cut-glass and silver, and there were several small lamps upon it. - -There were seats for only two, and after the Frenchman had seated his -guest he himself took the other chair. Then a dinner was served which -was the first respectable meal the American had eaten since he left -home. - -He had by this time determined to enjoy himself and let his cousin pay -the bill, if necessary; so he made no attempt to restrain his appetite. -His host evidently expected him to be hungry after his journey, for he -plied him with every conceivable variety of eatables. - -“Where in the world can they get them all from?” Roberts thought. “I -have been expecting to live on beans and bacon up at the mines!” - -To be sure it was rather an embarrassing meal, from one point of view, -for the utmost in the way of conversation which could be managed was an -occasional exchange of smiles between the two persons. “But if we could -talk there might be an end to this state of affairs!” thought Roberts. -“And I have no mind to be turned out until daylight, anyway.” - -By this time his cogitations over the strange condition of things -had resulted in the conclusion that it could not possibly be an inn -to which he had come. “It must be some kind of a private house,” he -thought. “But what in the world is it doing away off up here in this -lonely, God-forsaken country, and what the people want to do with me is -more than I can imagine. I can’t help thinking it is a mistake of some -kind; and I wonder who can live here—surely, not this queer little -fellow, all by himself!” - -Roberts had seen no one else except the servants, but this did not seem -strange when he came to think of it, for on the mantelpiece was a clock -which informed him that it was then nearly two in the morning. - -“Perhaps I will find out more when day comes,” he thought. “I am safe -for tonight, anyhow, I think.” - -And so it proved, for when at last the meal was over, the Frenchman -rose and politely bowed his new acquaintance to the door. There he -summoned one of the servants, again bowed to Roberts with a “_Bonne -nuit, monsieur!_” and, after shaking hands, Roberts turned to follow -the servant up the stairway. - -The two made their way into the bedroom which the American had visited -before, and where he found that his baggage had been all unpacked -and neatly stowed away in a bureau in the room. The servant bowed -his departure at the door, which was closed behind him, and then the -astounded stranger sat down on the bed and, as the ludicrousness of the -situation and the whole proceedings flashed over him, he flung himself -back and gave vent to a silent fit of laughter. - -“This will certainly be a story to tell if I ever get home again!” he -thought. - -But he was too sleepy by this time to trouble himself any further, and -he rose and prepared to make the most of the opportunity afforded him -for slumber. “I guess I will just take off my coat,” he thought, “for I -don’t know when the mistake may be discovered.” - -As he performed that operation his hand happened to strike upon his -back-pocket, where he had safely stowed away a small revolver. “If there -_should_ turn out to be anything wrong!” he thought, with a laugh. - -All during that evening the man had been racking his brains trying to -think of some possible explanation of his strange reception. During -the drive he had been somewhat alarmed, but his welcome had served to -remove any suspicion of possible danger. But just then, as he gazed -about the room, he suddenly observed something which gave a most -unexpected turn to his thoughts. - -The room to which he had been ushered was a large bedroom, perfectly -furnished in every way, and having two broad windows; it was the latter -which suddenly caught Roberts’s eye, and as they did so he experienced a -start of emotion that was very different from his former state. - -He had noticed the startling fact that both of the two windows were -protected by heavy iron bars! - -For a minute or two Roberts stood gazing at them, scarcely able to -realize the full significance of the discovery. He darted a swift -glance about the room to make sure that he was alone, and then he -sprang quickly forward to test them. He found that they were firmly set -in the heavy masonry of the window-sill, and that they were scarcely -wide enough apart to permit his arms to pass through. - -Then the very decidedly sobered American sank back in a chair and again -gazed about him. - -“I can scarcely think it means any danger,” he muttered to himself, -“for I am unable to think what kind of danger it could be—but yet, it -is most extraordinary!” - -Suddenly another idea came to his mind and brought him to his feet -with a jump. He sprang toward the door, and as he approached it half -instinctively he began stepping more quietly until as he neared it he -was advancing on tiptoe. - -“One of those fellows in livery may be outside,” he thought. - -Then he took hold of the knob and very softly and silently turned it. -When it was turned all the way he gave a slight push at the door, which -opened outward. - -And as he did so he felt the blood rush to his forehead and his breath -almost stopped. He flung his weight against the door violently, but it -did not move. Almost overcome with his discovery, he staggered back -against the wall. - -“By Jove!” he panted, “I am locked in!” - - - III - -Roberts began pacing very anxiously up and down the floor of the room. -He did not continue that for very many minutes, however, before he -stopped abruptly and again seated himself in the chair. - -“There is something wrong here,” he muttered, “mighty wrong! But I -don’t want them to know I have discovered it.” - -He sat for several minutes with his head in his hands, gazing straight -in front of him, his mind in a perfect tumult. He was absolutely -without any possible idea as to what that state of affairs could mean -or what object his mysterious host could possibly have in taking him -prisoner. - -“There is one comfort, however,” he muttered. “Heaven is to be thanked -for that!” - -He took the revolver from his pocket as he muttered the words; all of -its chambers were loaded, and he put it back into his pocket with a -slight chuckle of satisfaction. - -“I guess they didn’t count on that. They have got me in here, but it’ll -be another thing to get me out!” - -There was but very little idea of sleep left in his mind. When at last -he had decided that there was no solving the mystery with the few facts -that he knew, he began stealthily moving about the room and examining -everything in it. - -Directly at the head of the bed he found a handsome portiere hanging, -and as he reached behind this he discovered that there was another door -to the apartment. - -“Perhaps they haven’t locked that,” he thought. “I wonder where it -leads to?” - -He slipped in behind the curtain and proceeded to test that door also. -He set about the matter with the utmost caution, for by this time he -was firmly convinced that it was more than likely that someone was -keeping watch outside of his room. - -The prisoner had really very little idea of finding the door unlocked; -he did not think it likely that his captors would have neglected that -precaution, and he was thoroughly prepared to spend the rest of the -night in his prison. Such being the case, his surprise and delight may -be imagined when, upon turning the knob and pushing softly, he found -the door giving way before him. - -His heart was thumping with excitement as he made this discovery, and -inch by inch he opened the barrier wider. He could see nothing, for -the curtain back of him shut out the light from his own room and the -next apartment appeared absolutely dark. However, when it was opened -wide enough for him to slip in, Roberts stole cautiously forward, and -was soon standing on the floor of the other room. All about him was -absolutely dark and silent, but he groped around him for some distance -before he finally concluded to go back and get a little light. - -From a notebook in his pocket he tore several pages, which served him -for a small taper; and by this he made the discovery with consternation -that the apartment into which he had come was a tiny cell, not more -than fifteen feet square. There was a square window, high up from the -ground and heavily barred. By the faint light which he had Roberts saw -that the walls of the place were all stone, and that the door through -which he had come was composed of iron! - -“Great heavens!” he gasped. “I am in a fearful trap, as sure as I’m -alive!” - -He gripped his revolver in his hand, turned, and once more crept back -into his own room to wait. However, he found that everything there was -as silent as before, and after some little meditation over the problem -he removed several more pages from his notebook and set out for another -exploration. - -He had noticed on the other side of that tiny cell another door, -exactly like the first. “I wonder where that leads?” he thought; and -this time he twisted his tiny taper so as to make it last longer, and -then again crept forward. - -He darted across the stone floor and paused before the other iron door. -There was a keyhole there through which he could see a light shining, -but he could make out nothing by peering through. After pausing and -listening for several seconds and hearing absolutely no sound of any -kind, he determined upon a bold expedient. - -“I am here,” he thought, “probably for good. I am likely to have a -fight whenever I try to get out, so it might as well be now as any -time, for it will be an advantage to take the other people unawares.” - -And his mind once made up on that point Roberts softly turned the knob -of the door. As he did so he pushed against it; but it did not yield. - -There was another effect, however, one which caused him to give a start -of alarm. The sound he had made had evidently been heard, for on the -other side he heard a soft exclamation and then a footstep in the room. - -“That settles it!” Roberts murmured. “They have heard me!” - -He pushed at the door still harder and then gave a savage lunge; but -the barrier remained firm, and he knew that it was locked. - -At the same instant the sound of moving became much more distinct, and -Roberts, without a second’s hesitation, turned and sprang back toward -his own room. “It is better to be caught there than here,” he thought -in a flash. - -But before he had taken half a dozen steps he was stopped by a new and -unexpected development. He heard a voice behind him, coming through the -crack in the door he had been trying. - -“Who’s there?” it cried. “Who’s there?” - -And the words were in English! - -The voice was a low whisper. In an instant it occurred to Roberts that -this might be a friend, a prisoner like himself! He turned and crept -back toward the door. - -“Who are you?” he cried. - -His heart was beating so wildly with the excitement that he could -scarcely hear the reply of the other person, who still whispered in a -very low tone. - -“An American,” was the reply. “Are you?” - -“Yes,” said Roberts, “I am.” - -“And have they got you, too?” panted the other breathlessly. - -“Yes,” answered Roberts, “they have got me. What in the world does it -mean?” - -“I don’t know,” said the other, “I haven’t an idea!” - -“Do you mean that you are kept prisoner here without knowing why?” - -“Yes, without the faintest idea; absolutely!” came the breathless -whisper from the keyhole. “Don’t talk too loud, or they will hear you, -and then heaven knows what fearful things may happen to you! How long -have you been here?” - -“I only came tonight,” Roberts whispered. “And you?” - -As he heard the reply it was all he could do to keep his balance; he -clutched at the rough stone wall to sustain himself. The man’s voice -was reduced almost to a moan as he answered: - -“I have been here twenty years!” - - - IV - -Every drop of blood seemed to leave Roberts’s face, and his head fairly -swam. - -“Twenty years!” he gasped to himself. “In heaven’s name, what can it -mean?” - -Those words seemed to him to cap the climax of the night’s experiences, -and he stood as he was for fully a minute without speaking or asking -another question of the inmate of the other room. When suddenly the -silence was broken, it was by the other. - -“Are you sure no one has heard you?” panted the man. - -Roberts sprang to his feet and crept swiftly toward his own room. He -peered out around the front of the bed, but a single glance was enough -to show him that the door was still shut, and that there was no longer -any sign of trouble. Then once more he came back and stooped before the -keyhole. - -“Tell me,” he gasped breathlessly, “tell me your story. How did it -happen? Where were you?” - -“I lived in Caracas, in Venezuela,” the other responded. “I was in -business there for years. One day I was surprised in my own house by -three men, who overpowered me and drove me away in a carriage. They -drugged me in some way or other, for the next time I knew anything I -was a prisoner in this room.” - -“And you have stayed there ever since?” panted Roberts, almost beside -himself with horror. - -“For twenty years!” the man responded. - -“And you have made no attempt to get out?” - -“What good would it do?” cried the other. “They have iron bars for all -the windows and they keep my door locked.” - -“How do they pass you food?” inquired Roberts. “They must open the -door.” - -“Why, yes,” the man answered, “they open the door, but what good does -that do? There are always a half-dozen men standing in the doorway, and -they would overpower me if I made any resistance.” - -As Henry Roberts listened to that narrative he could scarcely believe -the evidences of his own senses. He had long ago given up any attempt -to think what could be the explanation of this extraordinary state of -affairs. He made one more attempt upon the door, but that apparently -caused the utmost terror to the other man. - -“You can’t do it,” he said. “It is locked, and that Frenchman has the -key.” - -“What Frenchman?” asked Roberts. - -“The man who is in charge of this place,” said the other. “The one -whose prisoner I am.” - -“Is he a short, stout man, with gray hair?” - -“Yes,” was the reply, “that is he.” - -Roberts shuddered involuntarily. - -“Oh, don’t speak of him!” continued the other breathlessly. “He is a -fiend! A perfect fiend!” - -“What did he do?” panted Roberts. - -“I cannot tell you all,” was the reply. “It would be too horrible. He -is the master of this place and it is he who keeps me prisoner. On no -account resist him or cry out for help—it is utterly useless.” - -Roberts felt a grim smile cross his face as he heard those words; he -clutched his revolver tightly. - -“I will risk it,” he thought. “They will have to open that door to give -me some food!” - -“They never fail to watch this door,” the voice whispered in response -to an inquiry from Roberts. “They will hear me and come in here, and -then—then——” - -There was an instant or two of silence, during which Roberts waited -for the man to continue. But he did not do so. For suddenly the deep -silence which reigned through the place was broken by a different -sound, one that made the American’s hair fairly rise. It was as if the -teeth of the other man were chattering audibly. - -“They are coming!” he whispered in a low gasp, as if he were trying -to speak but dared not. And then a second later Roberts’s ears were -smitten by a loud, piercing scream. He heard the man bound to his feet. - -“No! no!” he shrieked. “Stop! You shall not! It was not my fault!” - -At the same instant came the sound of several muffled footsteps about -the room, and, in another voice, several words which Roberts could not -understand. - -The agonized screams of the other person grew louder and louder, -accompanied by sounds which told plainly of a struggle. They lasted for -only a few seconds, however, and then came a crash and all was silent. - -During that incident Henry Roberts had remained crouching at the door, -too horrified to move, but, as the sounds died away, for the first time -he thought of his own peril and was on his feet with a single spring. -He turned and dashed across the floor of the cell. But even as he did -so he realized that the few seconds’ hesitation had cost him everything. - -The curtain of his bedroom was suddenly pushed aside, and a hand reached -in to grasp the door. Like a flash Roberts swung up his revolver and -leveled it, but before he could pull the trigger the iron barrier shut -to with a clang that seemed to shake every portion of the man’s body. - -He was a prisoner in the cell! - -The American leaned back against the wall, where he stood panting for -breath and clutching his weapon, staring about him wildly and striving -to pierce the darkness. The effort was vain, however, and the absolute -silence that prevailed afforded him not the slightest clue as to what -was going on. - -He realized with a sinking heart what an advantage he had lost by -failing to take possession of the large room where he had a light. But -even as he was, with his revolver in his hand, he concluded, after a -few swift thoughts, that his case was not entirely hopeless. - -“They will have to open the door some time,” he gasped, “and they may -not know that I have got a revolver.” - -There was, however, the fearful possibility that his mysterious captor -might see fit to starve him out. The American realized that he would be -absolutely helpless before that. - -“But there is a window,” he thought; “perhaps I can shout and attract -attention.” - -Prompted by that thought, he felt his way along the wall until he -reached the opening in question. He raised himself up and peered -between the bars; but it was only to make one more discovery. The -window was closed by an iron shutter or drop, which resisted all his -efforts to move it. - -“And I am in here without a breath of air!” he thought. - -The whispered words had scarcely passed his lips before the last -climax of his mysterious experiences arrived. Suddenly a strange smell -attracted his attention, and as he discovered the cause he gave a gasp -of despair. - -The room was slowly filling with a gas! - -Roberts even then fancied that he could hear the sound of it entering -through some pipe which he could not find. Every second that certainty -was made more and more plain to him, and he darted forward perfectly -beside himself with desperation. He flung himself savagely against -the iron door, but it seemed to laugh at his efforts. He seized the -knob and tugged savagely, but with no effect. He stooped down at the -keyhole, hoping in that way to escape the new and horrible fate, but he -found that it also had been closed, and as he rushed across the room to -the other door exactly the same experience was repeated. - -In the meantime he had, of course, been breathing the poisoned air of -the tiny cell. The deadly fumes were becoming stronger and stronger, -causing him to gasp and his head to reel. Twice more he threw all -his weight against the door in vain, and then, clutching the knob to -sustain himself, he stood for a second or two, swaying this way and -that, gasping and striving to hold his breath to keep out the choking -vapor. - -Then everything reeled before him, and he found himself clutching -wildly in every direction. The revolver dropped from his helpless -grasp, and a second later he pitched forward upon the floor of his -cell. At the very same instant one of the doors was flung open and -a flood of light poured into the place. It was the last thing he -perceived as consciousness left him. - - - V - -How long a time Roberts remained unconscious after he had been -overpowered in the room of the mysterious house it was impossible for -him to say. When his senses returned to him he was in a sort of stupor. -As one half awake he became conscious of being carried about by someone. - -He was too dazed to think about his situation or to realize what had -occurred to him, nor was he even conscious of the lapse of time; but -gradually his senses came back to him more and more, to a recognition -of his terrible plight in the hands of mysterious enemies in the midst -of that wild country. - -With what little strength he had he tried to raise himself, and found -that both his hands and feet were tightly bound; also a bandage was -tied tightly about his eyes, so that he could not see anything. He was -too weak to make any outcry, and could only give himself up helplessly -to his captors. - -Several times he heard people speaking in his neighborhood, but as the -language was still French he obtained no clue as to what had happened -to him in the meantime. - -“At any rate,” he thought, “it is something to be alive—_that_ is more -than I expected.” - -It was not long after this he was picked up again by two men, who -apparently carried him down a flight of steps. By this time Roberts had -recovered his wits and was anxiously trying to discover any signs as to -his whereabouts. - -He heard the door open, and then a fresh breeze told him that he was -being carried out of the house. - -“I wonder what in the world is going to happen to me now,” he thought -to himself. - -Again he made an effort to free his hands, but it was of no use with -the little strength he had. His head was aching, and he was completely -exhausted by the ordeal through which he had passed. - -From the footsteps of the men who were carrying him he made out that -they were passing next down a gravel walk. At the same time, nearby, -he heard what he took to be the stamping of horses. “Perhaps it is the -same place where they took me in before,” he thought. However, that did -him no good, as he had been brought to the house in the darkness of a -stormy night and had seen nothing of the neighborhood. - -His surmise was correct, however, for the men raised him and placed him -in a carriage. Two of them sprang in and the horses started rapidly -down the road. - -Then was repeated the same experience as before, the long ride over the -roughest of roads. Roberts was completely helpless, and was flung this -way and that upon the seat. Perhaps the jarring helped to revive his -faculties, however, for when the trip was over he was fully alert. - -During the ride the two men who were in the carriage whispered to each -other occasionally; but the conversation was in French, as before, and -the American could understand nothing. It was a weary journey, but it -came to an end at last. The carriage stopped, the two men sprang out, -and then again he felt himself lifted and carried away. - -“I will pretty soon know what is going to happen to me,” he muttered to -himself. - -He was taken only a short distance before he was set down by the two -men, who stepped aside and held a whispered conversation. Then suddenly -he heard them walking away again, and a minute or two later he heard -the carriage start. It sped rapidly away, and in a half-minute more was -out of hearing, the American being left alone in absolute silence and -without any further clue as to what was taking place or where he was. - -He lay there for fully half an hour, waiting impatiently for the next -development. He grew more and more impatient, and finally summoned all -his strength in an effort to free his hands. “Perhaps it will do me no -good,” he thought, “but I would like everlastingly to make a fight for -it.” - -His astonishment may be imagined when, at the very first effort, the -rope which bound him parted and left his hands free! - -He was scarcely able to realize it for a moment, and lay with his -hands still behind his back, trying to grasp the fact that he was at -liberty, or partially so, at any rate. His heart gave a great bound of -joy. There was no doubt, however, that his enemies were nearby, and the -thought made him cautious. - -Slowly and silently he raised his hands to his head and grasped the -handkerchief which still bound his eyes. It was only loosely tied, and -a single pull was sufficient to remove it. The eagerness with which he -glanced about him may be imagined. The first sight that met his eyes -was the stars; then, realizing that in the darkness he was not so -likely to be observed, he bent swiftly forward to the rope that bound -his feet. - -This, too, he found but loosely tied, and it took him but a few seconds -to loosen it, after which he turned his head anxiously and glanced -about him. He found himself, apparently, in the midst of an open -country, in the shadow of a tall tree. What surprised him most of all -was the fact that he saw nothing to indicate that anyone was near. - -“They do not seem very careful to guard me,” Roberts thought, “after -all the pains they took to capture me.” - -However, there was no time to spend in debating that question. His only -thought was to make the most of his opportunity and escape from that -spot as quickly as possible. - -He raised himself and began silently to make his way along the ground. -He was still weak, but for all that he managed to make good time. As he -crept along he found that he was on a road, and his first impulse was -to reach the thicket at one side. Once in the shade of this he rose to -his feet, considerably emboldened by his success. He still saw no one -and heard no sounds to indicate that his escape had been discovered, so -he set out somewhat more boldly, creeping through the underbrush. - -He was almost beside himself with delight at his sudden and unexpected -good fortune. He knew that every step he took was carrying him more and -more to safety, for the nature of the country told him that it would be -almost impossible for his enemies, whoever they might be, to find him -again. “It was a terrible experience,” he thought to himself. “This end -of it seems almost like an anti-climax.” - -When he was far enough away to be sure that there was no danger of his -steps being heard he broke into a run, nor did he stop until he was -completely exhausted. - -By that time he knew that he had put fully half a mile of the dense -jungle between himself and any possible pursuers. He sat down on the -ground to recover his breath and think over the strange situation. - -“Perhaps I shall never come to an explanation,” he thought, “or find -out what that strange Frenchman wanted with me.” - -As he turned the matter over in his mind, however, there was one thing -about which he made up his mind definitely, and that was that if he -ever succeeded in reaching his cousin, he would never cease his efforts -to find out all about that mysterious house, and to inform the proper -authorities about the unfortunate captive who was detained there. “I -guess I will have a hard time finding him, though,” Roberts thought. -“Perhaps I have only exchanged one danger for another, as I have pretty -well lost myself in this thicket.” - -It was just then he chanced to notice that a heavy package had been -stuffed into one of the pockets of his coat. He found it was a paper -parcel, which he took out and examined with not a little curiosity. He -found that his enemies, as if anticipating his escape, had provided him -with a supply of food! - -Again he put his hand to his pocket, and, discovering something else, -proceeded to examine it. There were two pieces of paper, and he struck -a match to examine them. One, as he found to his utter consternation, -was a French bank-note of the value of five hundred francs! - -That discovery almost overwhelmed him. He sat gazing in silent wonder -at the paper until the match went out. Then he struck another and -proceeded to examine the other piece of paper, which he found was a -note addressed to him in English: - - SIR—It was all mistake. We thought you - were somebody other. We are sorry. We inclose money - to pay you for your time and loss of—— - -As Roberts read the last word he gave a gasp. Then he swung his hand up -to his head and found to his horror that the statement of the letter -was only too true. The word was _hair_, and every particle of it had -been shaved from his head! - -If anything had been needed to complete Roberts’s amazement at his -strange adventure, this would have done it. He sat where he was for -fully five minutes, alternately feeling for his missing locks and -examining the bank-note and the lunch. - -“All a mistake!” he muttered to himself. “Took me for someone else!” - -The first thought that came to Roberts after that was a renewal of his -resolution to probe the mystery to the bottom. - -“Mistake or no mistake,” he thought, “those villains intended a -horrible fate for someone—and they have got that other wretched -prisoner in there yet. I am going to find out what it means or die in -the attempt!” - -And it was with determination in his mind that Henry Roberts at last -raised himself to his feet once more. He tucked the note and bank-bill -away in his pocket and wrapped up the food. - -“At first, I thought it might have been poisoned,” he observed, “but I -guess that is not very likely under the circumstances. It may come in -very handy, for all I can tell.” - -He had now made up his mind that there was no longer any chance of his -being pursued, and he saw very plainly that his enemies had taken him -to the lonely spot and left him with the intention of allowing him to -free himself, as he had done. - -“However, they probably took pains to lose me,” he thought, “so that I -could not come back to revenge myself.” - -As this thought entered his mind, Roberts instinctively put his hand to -his back-pocket where his revolver had been. Sure enough, he found that -it had not been returned to him. - -“A wise precaution!” he muttered. - -His first purpose now was, of course, to get back to the road, so that -he might find some kind of habitation. - -“I must get to the mines, and get my cousin to help me,” he thought. - -The task seemed likely to be a difficult one, for in the darkness -Roberts had no way of telling which way he had come. It was by no means -a pleasant prospect, that of getting lost in the jungle country. - -“If I had only thought to examine my pockets before I did all that -running!” he exclaimed. - -He could not help laughing at the thought of his wild dash and the -extreme caution and anxiety with which he had freed himself. However, -his amusement did not last very long; for once more the terrified cries -of the unfortunate prisoner crossed his mind. The last words which he -had heard from the man were still ringing in his ears. - -“Twenty years!” - -He started to make his way back through the jungle in the direction -where he hoped to find the road he had left. He trudged on for a -considerable time, getting more and more involved in the tangled vines -of that swampy region. Finally he concluded that there was nothing else -for him to do but wait until the dawn. There was no means of telling -what wild animals might be near, and he was haunted with the fear of -disturbing some serpent. At last he determined on climbing one of the -high trees. From this vantage point he found that he had not much -longer to wait. Already the first streaks of dawn were visible in the -east. - -His tree was one of the tallest in the dense forest, and as soon as -it was light he caught sight of a slight opening in the trees, where -he discovered the long-sought road, winding up the hillside in front. -Without a minute’s hesitation he climbed to the ground and set out -through the thicket. No shipwrecked mariner was ever more relieved at -the sight of land. “If I get to the road, I am pretty sure to find -someone in the end.” - -Twice he took the precaution to climb a tree to make sure that he was -on the right track, and at last he came out upon the thoroughfare. A -single glance was sufficient to tell him that a carriage had passed -over it since the recent heavy rain, and he concluded that this was the -road over which he had been taken. - -He sat down for a short while to rest and think over the situation. “I -am going to set out and walk until I come to some place,” he decided -finally. “The only question is in which direction to go.” - -He had nothing to guide him, and he finally decided haphazard and set -out tramping. He found out that the fresh air and the excitement of -his escape had served to remove almost all the effects of his recent -unpleasant experience. - -“I have lost nothing,” he thought, “except my hair and my baggage!” - -The latter had been taken into the mysterious house, and that was the -last Roberts had seen of it; as he thought the matter over, however, -he concluded that in all probability the Frenchmen had left it with -him when they drove away. “And I ran away and left it!” he laughed. -“Anyway, I have got a hundred dollars to pay for it.” - -The road was so rough as to be almost as difficult as the thicket. -Winding in and out through the dense jungle, sometimes completely -covered by the interlacing trees and vines, it seemed as if it might -run on forever. - -“But there must be some house along it!” the man muttered grimly. “If I -can only find somebody to direct me to the mines!” - -The sun rose until at last it was beating down fiercely upon the -traveler. It was long after high noon when at last he made out the -first sign that he had gained anything by his mountain journey. There -came one hill much higher than the rest; as he reached the summit and -glanced around him, he saw a slender column of smoke rising from the -midst of the dark trees. - -“A house at last!” he cried, and set swiftly forward. - -He kept his wits about him, however, not forgetting that he was in the -midst of a strange country. As he descended the hill the smoke passed -out of sight, and he did not again observe it until he was almost upon -the house from which it proceeded. - -He took the precaution to turn from the road and make his way through -the thicket, where the tropical vegetation was so dense about him that -he could see nothing in front of him even, when various sounds led -him to believe that he was almost upon the house. And so it was that -suddenly, without the slightest warning, he came to the end of the -bushes, and the building rose before his very eyes. - -From a spot a few yards to one side the road still stretched onward, -but it had broadened out into a smooth avenue, lined on either side -with great forest trees. Beneath them was a well-kept lawn, and -perhaps a hundred yards beyond at the end of the avenue was a building, -a great mansion, three stories high, and built of handsome stone. - -A single glance at it, and the American staggered back with a gasp. It -was the house of his recent adventure! - - - VI - -Roberts’s first impulse was to spring back into the bushes and crouch -down to prevent his being observed. There he lay peering out and -watching the scene. - -There was no doubt about the house being the same one, for besides the -improbability of there being two such houses in that dense wilderness, -he had seen from the lights the general outline of the house on the -night he had been first taken there. If he had any doubt, a discovery -he made a short time after was sufficient to remove it. - -Two sides of the great structure were visible to him from where he was, -and he saw that all the windows were protected with iron bars! - -He ran his eye over the whole building with considerable curiosity. -Except for the bars above mentioned, it was a most inviting-looking -structure, having broad piazzas around it covered with vines and -growing plants and a beautiful garden in front. It was situated upon -a high elevation, and, even from where he was, Roberts could see -the broad view stretching beyond on the other side. But the thought -uppermost in his mind while he lay watching the place was less of all -this than of the wretched American whom he had left there. - -He had not been there more than five minutes before he saw the door in -front of the broad avenue open and a man step out. A single glance at -the figure was enough to tell him that it was the little Frenchman who -had welcomed him on the night he had been brought there. - -“You scoundrel!” Roberts thought, clenching his hands. “I should like -to get hold of you!” - -The man had a cigar in his mouth, and began sauntering up and down the -piazza. Roberts had the pleasure of watching him for a considerable -time at this occupation, and then he came out and fell to examining the -flowers in front of the house. - -In the meantime the American was thinking over his situation and trying -to make up his mind what to do. He was not willing to risk any further -explorations of the place by himself; and yet, on the other hand, he -dreaded retracing that long walk on the road. - -“Perhaps it goes on,” he thought, “and perhaps I can find another house -beyond.” - -He stole back into the bushes and made a circuit of the broad grove to -investigate. He found, however, that the road apparently led only to -the mansion and that he was confronted with the necessity of retracing -his steps the entire day’s journey. - -“Perhaps they left me near some place,” he thought, “and I would have -been all right if I had only waited for daylight!” - -Weakened by his unpleasant experiences, Roberts was not prepared to -undertake that trip immediately. It was then well on toward sunset, but -he resolved to rest several hours, at any rate. - -He crept back into the bushes a short distance to make himself safe -from discovery and stretched himself out to rest. Several hours passed -in that way, and then, as darkness once more settled upon the place, -he crept forward for a closer view of the house before leaving it. He -had not taken very many steps, however, before something occurred which -caused him to stop abruptly. He could see, through the bushes, the -lights shining out from one or two of the windows. Suddenly, his ears -were caught by a confused sound of voices. He sprang forward to the -edge of the bushes and gazed out just in time to witness an exciting -scene. - -The doorway was open and a flood of light was pouring out. In the -doorway several men were struggling violently. - -At that very instant one of the voices cried out in English: “Help! -Help!” And to his consternation Roberts recognized the voice as the -same he had heard through the keyhole of his cell! It was the American -prisoner! - -As Roberts realized this, all thought of caution left him. With a yell -he leaped forward and bounded across the lawn at the top of his speed. - -The rest happened so quickly that Roberts had no time to think. He saw -the figures silhouetted in the light of the doorway, one man making a -desperate struggle against two or three others. Roberts reached the -foot of the steps leading up to the piazza at the very same instant -that another figure came dashing around the corner of the porch, crying -out excitedly in French. He recognized both the voice and form as those -of the hated master of the house. - -It was the opportunity for which he had been wishing. He flung himself -upon the man, and before the latter had time even to throw up his hands -dealt him a blow with all the power of his arm, catching him in the -chest and sending him reeling backward; then, with a shout of -encouragement, he turned and dashed toward the doorway. - -He was in the very nick of time, for the other prisoner, who had been -making a gallant fight for his liberty, was now almost overpowered by -the men. Roberts recognized them as the same servants who had welcomed -him upon his entrance. Several others were rushing down the hallway to -join in the struggle, when he flung himself through the doorway. One of -the men had pinned the unfortunate prisoner to the wall, but Roberts -dealt him a blow that sent him flying backward. The others turned with -a cry of alarm, at the same time loosening their hold upon the prisoner. - -And the latter whirled like a flash, and before Roberts had time to -shout to him had dashed out of the doorway and down the steps of the -building. His rescuer paused only long enough to repel a furious -onslaught, and then he, too, turned and rushed away into the darkness. - -“Run! Run!” he yelled to the man he had helped. “Run for your life!” - -There was no need of the exhortation. The man was fairly flying over -the ground, making for the thicket beyond. - -Roberts heard footsteps behind him and glanced over his shoulder in -time to see that his danger was by no means over. It seemed as if -his shout must have alarmed the whole house. Half a dozen men had -poured out of the doorway and were in full pursuit of the fugitives. -The nearest of them, who had been rushing up to join in the fight as -Roberts turned, were only a few yards behind. - -Roberts knew that all depended upon his being able to get away into -the thicket, for he was by no means strong enough for a long race. The -other man seemed able to run faster, and was leaving his rescuer behind. - -“Oh, if I only had my revolver!” he said to himself. - -As it was, he expected some of the men to fire upon him. Before there -was time for this, however, the race was over and lost. To the edge -of the bushes was a matter of only a few seconds; the first man -disappeared and Roberts followed, when suddenly a tangled vine in his -path caught his foot and brought him to earth with a blow so violent -that it almost stunned him. Not two seconds later Roberts felt a heavy -body fling itself upon him and heard a voice crying out in the now too -familiar French. - -He tried to struggle to his feet once more to grapple with his -assailant, but his efforts were in vain, for the latter’s cries had -brought several more to the spot, and before he was able to realize it -Roberts was again a helpless prisoner. - -His cries were stopped by one of the men flinging his coat about his -head; then two others picked him up by the arms and feet and set out to -carry him. - -He was so breathless and dazed by what had occurred that he was -scarcely able to realize his plight. Once more a prisoner in the hands -of the mysterious Frenchman! - -“Of course, they will take me straight back to the house,” he thought, -and in this he found that he was not mistaken. From the sounds that -reached his ears he knew that a crowd had gathered about those who were -carrying him, and suddenly, above all the excited cries, Roberts heard -a voice that he recognized as that of the master. - -“_Vous l’avez?_” he cried excitedly. “_Bien!_” - -Roberts did not know the meaning of the words, but the Frenchman’s -delight was sufficiently manifested by the tone of the voice. The -American’s heart sank as he thought of what was before him. - -“He won’t let me off so easily this time!” he thought. “I am not sorry -I whacked him, all the same, and at least that other fellow will -escape!” - -He was borne swiftly forward by the men; from the sounds of the -footsteps he knew that they were on the gravel walk once more. Then -they mounted the steps of the piazza, and through an opening in the -coat that was still flung over his head he made out the light of the -doorway. At the same time he heard the voice of the Frenchman and was -borne into the hallway again. The door shut behind him. It sounded like -a death-knell in his ears. - -“Probably they will take me back to that very same cell,” he thought. - -And then suddenly two of the men seized him by his arms, and the rest -released their hold, leaving him standing upon his feet. The coat was -flung from off his face, and he stood before his captors. - -Roberts found himself in the very same hallway as on the previous -occasion, surrounded by the very same servants, and in the presence of -the very same master. All this was exactly what he had expected, and -nothing of it surprised him. But there was one new circumstance, one -that left him almost dazed with consternation—the action of the crowd -of men the instant they caught sight of him. - -The master himself, having apparently recovered from the blow which -Roberts had dealt him, was standing in front of his prisoner; as he got -a glimpse of his face he staggered back with an exclamation, and burst -into a roar of laughter! He began to shake all over with uncontrollable -merriment, and finally he sank back against the wall, apparently -scarcely able to stand. - -Nor were his assistants less strangely affected—they, too, gazed at -the prisoner, and then went likewise into spasms of laughter. Everyone -in the hall was soon joining in the uproar, and two men who were -holding Roberts were so overcome that they let go their hold of him! -The puzzled man found himself alone and free once more, but he was so -amazed that he could only stand and stare about him. - -It would not be possible to describe his perplexity. The little -Frenchman, now apparently not in the least alarmed by the fact that -his prisoner was free, lay back in a chair near the fireplace, almost -purple in the face with laughter. And this situation continued for -fully two minutes more before the man, seeing Roberts’s amazement, rose -to his feet and came toward him. - -“_Monsieur!_” he began, making a desperate effort to control his -laughter. “_Monsieur! Une très grande bévue!_” - -Then seeing from the expression on Roberts’s face that the remark was -not understood, he again went into an explosion of merriment. - -“_J’ai oublié!_” he gasped. “_Vous ne comprenez pas_——” - -Yet, though Roberts did _not_ understand, there was one thing which -these things did make plain to him, and which brought him a vast -relief. This farce, whatever it was, was at least not going to turn out -a tragedy for him. - -He stood as he was in the centre of the hallway watching the crowd. -When the first burst of laughter had passed away they remained eagerly -talking to each other, glancing at him occasionally and gesticulating. -The little Frenchman, who seemed not to have the slightest enmity -toward Roberts for having knocked him down, was still standing in front -of him, laughing excitedly and trying to make himself understood. As -he only continued to shake his head the Frenchman gave a gesture of -despair. Suddenly, however, a thought seemed to strike him, and he -whirled about and called to one of the men. - -“_Jacques!_” he exclaimed. “_Appelez Jacques!_” - -Immediately one of the men turned and darted out of the door. It was -only a few seconds later before another man entered the room and toward -him the excited little Frenchman rushed. Still shaking with merriment -he began an excited conversation, glancing occasionally at Roberts. In -a few seconds the newcomer was also convulsed with hilarity. - -“_Parlez-lui, Jacques!_” cried the master of the house excitedly. -“_Vite!_” - -And the man came toward Roberts, his face strained with suppressed -laughter. - -“Sir!” he stammered, scarcely able to speak. “Sir, I explain!” - -“Go ahead,” said Roberts, who by this time had begun to feel the -laughter contagious. “Hurry up, for heaven’s sake!” - -The Frenchman paused for a few seconds, evidently collecting his scanty -knowledge of English; then he turned toward the master of the house. - -“Sir,” he said, making a profound bow, “I introduce—I introduce you -the Dr. Anselme.” - -The little Frenchman in turn made a profound bow; at the same time a -sudden idea flashed across Roberts. - -The two men, who were watching him closely, glanced at each other -and again began laughing uproariously. Then again Jacques began his -laborious explanation, pausing very long between words. - -“This house,” he said, “this house—it is—it is _une—une_—what is de -word? _Une hôpital_——” - -Again the man stopped and gazed into the air. In the meantime, however, -Roberts’s brain had been working, and a possible explanation of his -extraordinary adventures with Dr. Anselme had flashed over him. - -“A hospital!” he cried, “an asylum!” - -“_Oui, oui, monsieur!_” cried the man excitedly. - -“There was one man coming,” he continued excitedly, “one——” - -“Patient?” suggested Roberts. - -“_Oui, oui!_” exclaimed the other. “One patient! He was to come——” - -But the man did not finish his sentence. At that moment there came -the sound of rolling carriage-wheels, and Dr. Anselme made a sudden -start for the door and flung it open just as the carriage stopped and -a man bounded up the steps of the porch. The little doctor, still -half convulsed with laughter, dragged him into the house and began an -excited conversation with him. In a moment or two the latter turned to -Roberts. He began to speak in fluent English, keeping from giving way -to laughter by a violent effort. - -“Sir,” he said, “my brother wishes me to explain—I have arrived just -in time.” - -“For heaven’s sake!” cried Roberts in relief. “Talk on, and tell me -what is the matter!” - -“It is a most extraordinary blunder,” said the newcomer. “You have -escaped a dangerous surgical operation by the merest chance!” - -Roberts placed his hand on his bald head, and everyone in the hallway -gave a roar of laughter. - -“Yes,” said the other, “that is it. My brother is a well-known -specialist in mental diseases and has this sanitarium in the mountains. -No doubt you were surprised to find such a large house so far away from -any city. We were expecting a patient, an American, by the same train -on which you arrived. He was suffering from an injury to the skull, -which made him liable to periodic attacks of insanity, and he was -coming up here to be treated.” - -“The very man I saw on the train!” cried Roberts. “A tall, dark-haired -person?” - -“We do not know in the least what he looks like,” was the reply, “for -had we known we should not have made the horrible blunder we did.” - -In a few words Roberts related how the stranger had leaped from the -train during the night. - -“Undoubtedly,” said the other, “that was he. He probably lacked courage -to come. I have been out hunting for him, but have not found him.” - -“And they were going to operate on me?” Roberts gasped. - -“Yes,” said the other; “it was only the fact that my brother was unable -to find any trace of injury to your skull that saved you. Then it -occurred to him to search your clothing, and he found your card, which, -of course, showed him the terrible mistake.” - -By this time Roberts himself was able to join in the uproarious -laughter. - -“But that other man—that prisoner who has been here for twenty -years—what about him?” he asked. - -“He has been here nearly thirty years,” laughed the other, “but he has -no knowledge of the time. He is a raving maniac!” - -“And I helped him to escape!” gasped Roberts. - -“Yes, you did,” said the other ruefully, “and I am afraid it will take -us many days to catch him!” - -“But why in the world did you take me away and leave me there on the -road?” cried Roberts, when he was able to speak. “Why did you not -explain to me?” - -“I would have if I had been here,” the man answered, “but my brother -concluded that, as you were not destined for here, you were going to -the mines, which are the only other inhabited spot around here. So they -carried you to the mines.” - -“To the mines!” gasped the other. “For heaven’s sake, what do you mean? -You left me out in the middle of the jungle!” - -Once more the Frenchman went off into a fit of laughter. “Why, they -left you within fifty yards of the place!” gasped Dr. Anselme’s -brother. “They did not take you in, as they thought there might be some -trouble made about the matter and we were anxious to get out of it -without any.” - -Then in a few words Roberts told what had happened to him since that -adventure. - -“I thought I was doing something very heroic in rescuing that man,” he -exclaimed. “Please apologize to the doctor for the whack I gave him.” - -Dr. Anselme protested that the blow was nothing at all, though Roberts -fancied that he could see him wince at the mere recollection of it. -Nothing more was said about that, however, and, still laughing about -the man’s strange adventures, the doctor turned to the door on one side -and flung it open, disclosing the same familiar dining-room. - -“Sir, I pardon you,” he said, and his brother interpreted, “now sit -again with us at our table, I beg of you.” - -And they went in to supper. - - - - - _The Day_ - - -“Here’s one for you, ’Squire, that I’ll betcha you can’t answer,” -tantalizingly said Hi Spry, as the Old Codger added himself to the -roster of the Linen Pants and Solid Comfort Club. “‘When tomorrow is -yesterday, today will be as far from the end of the week as was today -from the beginning of the week when yesterday was tomorrow. What is -today?’” - -“Today, Hiram,” grimly returned the veteran, “is the day that I’m -goin’ to ask you to return to me them three dollars and thirty-five -cents that you borrowed from me over two months ago, with the promise -that you’d pay ’em back the then-comin’ day-after-tomorrow, which -went mizzling down the corridors of time quite a spell ago without -fetchin’ me the money. That’s what day this is, Hiram, although I -prob’ly shouldn’t have mentioned it if you hadn’t tried to humiliate -me in public by springin’ a question on me that you was pretty sure I -couldn’t answer.” - - * * * * * - - _No Retribution_ - -CRAWFORD—Why do you object to the methods of our benevolent -millionaires? - -CRABSHAW—Because in distributing their surplus wealth they -don’t give it back to the people they got it from. - - - - - _A Belated Reconciliation_ - - BY WILL N. HARBEN - _Author of “Abner Daniel,” “The Substitute,” - “The Georgians,” etc._ - - -Old Jim Ewebanks sat down on the wash-bench in front of the widow -Thompson’s cabin and watched the old woman as she stood in the doorway, -pouring water into her earthen churn to “make the butter come.” He had -walked over from his cabin across the hollow to bring her a piece of -news; but the subject was a delicate one, and he hardly knew how to -broach it. - -If he had been a lighter man, he would have led her further in her -cheerful comments on the crops, the price of cotton and the health of -their neighbors; but deception of no sort was in Ewebanks’s line, and -moreover, the sun was going down. He could see the blue smoke curling -from the mud-and-log chimney on the dark, mist-draped mountainside -across the marshes and writing a welcome message on the sky. He had a -mental glimpse of his wife as she bent over a big fireplace and put -steaming food on the supper-table. He was reminded that he had not fed -his cattle; and still he could not bring himself to the task before him. - -Mrs. Thompson’s son, Joe, came up the narrow road from the field, -leading his bay mare. The young man turned the animal into a little -stableyard. With the clanking harness massed on his brawny shoulder he -passed by, nodding to the visitor, and hung his burden on a peg in the -lean-to shed at the end of the cabin. - -Then he went into the entry between the two rooms of the house, and, -rolling up his shirt sleeves, bathed his face and hands in a tin basin. - -Ewebanks determined to come to his point before Joe finished washing. -Indeed, a sudden question from the widow made it somewhat easier for -him. - -“What’s fetched you ’long here this time o’ day, Jim?” she asked, as -she tilted her churn toward the light reflected from the sky and raised -the dasher cautiously to inspect the yellow lumps of butter clinging to -its dripping surface. - -Ewebanks felt his throat tighten. It was hard for him to bring up a -subject to the mild-faced, reticent woman, which, while it had been -common talk in the neighborhood for the past twenty-five years, had -scarcely been mentioned in her presence. He bent down irresolutely and -began to pick the cockle-burrs from the frayed legs of his trousers. - -Joe Thompson saved him from an immediate reply by throwing the contents -of his basin at a lot of chickens in the yard and coming toward him, -drying his face and hands on his red cotton handkerchief. - -“You _are_ off’n yore reg’lar stompin’-ground, hain’t you?” he said -cordially. - -Jim Ewebanks made a failure of a smile as his eyes fell on Mrs. -Thompson. She had stopped churning, and, leaning on her wooden dasher, -was studying his face. - -“What fetched you, shore ’nough?” she asked abruptly. - -Ewebanks knew that her suspicions were roused. He sat erect and clasped -his coarse hands between his knees. - -“My cousin Sally Wynn’s been over in the valley today,” he gulped. -“It’s reported thar that yore sister, Mrs. Hansard, is purty low. -We-uns talked it over—me’n my wife did—an’ Sally, an’ ’lowed you ort -to know. They axed me to come tell you, but as I told them, I hain’t no -hand to—it looks like they could ’a’ picked somebody——” - -He broke off. There was little change in the grim, lined face under the -gray hair, and the red-checked breakfast shawl which the woman wore -like a hood. She turned the churn again to the light and peered down -into the white depths. - -Someone had once said in the hearing of Ewebanks that nothing could -induce Martha Thompson to utter a word about her sister, and he -wondered how she would treat the present disclosure. She let the churn -resume its upright position and put the lid back into place; then she -glanced at him. - -“She—hain’t _bad_ off, I reckon,” she said tensely. - -“Purty low,” he replied, his eyes on the ground. “The fact is, Mrs. -Thompson, ef you want to see ’er alive you’d better go over thar -tomorrow at the furdest.” - -Ewebanks knew he had gone a little too far in his last words, when Joe -broke in fiercely: - -“She won’t go a step! She sha’n’t set foot inside that cussed house. -They’ve done ’thout us so fur, an’ they kin longer—dead, dyin’ or -buried!” - -“Hush, Joe!” Mrs. Thompson had left her churn, and with her hands -wrapped in her apron was leaning against the door-jamb. - -Joe didn’t heed her. - -“They’ve always helt the’r heads above us becase we’re poor an’ they’re -rich,” he ran on. “You sha’n’t go a step, mother!” - -Mrs. Thompson said nothing. She rolled her churn aside and went into -the cabin. Ewebanks saw her bending over the pots and kettles in the -red light from the live coals. He saw her rise to arrange the table, -and knew she was going to ask him to supper. He got up to go, said good -day to Joe, who had lapsed into sullen silence, and descended the rocky -path toward his cabin. - -It was growing dusk; a deepening haze, half of smoke, half of mist, -hung over the wooded hill on the right of the road, and on the left a -newly cleared field was dotted with the smoldering fires of brush-heaps. - -At the foot of the hill he glanced back and saw Mrs. Thompson in the -path signaling to him. He paused in the corner of a rail fence half -overgrown with briars and waited for her. She was panting with exertion -when she reached him. - -“I didn’t care to talk up thar ’fore Joe,” she began. “He’s so bitter -agin Melissa an’ ’er folks; but I want to know more. What seems to be -ailin’ ’er, Jim?” - -“A general break-down, I reckon,” was the answer. “She’s been gradually -on the fail fer some time. I reckon yore duty-bound to see ’er, Mrs. -Thompson. I’d not pay any attention to Joe nur nobody else. Maybe -thar’s been some pride on yore side, too.” - -“I don’t know,” she said doubtfully, and then she was silent. She broke -a piece of worm-eaten bark from a pine rail on the fence and crumbled -it in her hand. - -“I’ve been wantin’ to tell you some’n fer a long time,” Ewebanks put in -cautiously, “but it wasn’t no business o’ mine, an’ I hate meddlin’. I -hain’t no talebearer, but this hain’t that, I reckon.” - -“I hauled some wood fer ’er one day last spring when me’n my team was -detained at court over thar. She come out in the yard in front o’ her -fine house whar I was unloadin’. She looked mighty thin an’ peaked an’ -lonesome. I had no idea she knowed me from a side o’ sole leather, -grand woman that she is, but she axed me ef I wasn’t from out this -way. I told ’er I was, an’ then she reached over the wagon-wheel an’ -shuck hands powerful friendly like, an’ axed particular about you an’ -Joe, an’ how you was a-makin’ of it. I told ’er you was up an’ about, -but, like the rest of us, as pore as Job’s turkey. She said she’d been -a-layin’ off to go to see you, but, somehow, hadn’t been able to git -round to it. She said she’d been porely fer over a year.” - -“She wasn’t porely two year back when I was on my back with typhoid,” -said Mrs. Thompson bitterly. “The report went out that I’d never git up -agin, but she never come a-nigh me, nur sent no word.” - -“Maybe she never heard of it,” said Ewebanks. “They had a lot to do -over thar about that time in one way and another. One o’ the gals -was marryin’ of a banker, an’ t’other the Governor’s son, an’ yore -brother-in-law, up to his death, was in politics, an’ they was constant -a-givin’ parties an’ a-havin’ big company an’ the like. We-uns that -don’t carry on at sech a rate ortn’t to be judges. I’m of the opinion -that you ort to go, Mrs. Thompson. Ef she dies you’ll always wish you’d -laid aside the grudge.” - -The old woman glanced up at her cabin and awkwardly wiped her mouth -with her bare hand. - -“It seems sech a short time sence me’n her was childern together,” -she mused. “We was on the same level then, an’ I never loved anybody -more’n I did her. She was the purtiest gal in the neighborhood, an’ as -sharp as a briar. Squire Farnhill tuck a likin’ to ’er, an’, as he had -no childern o’ his own, he offered to adopt ’er an’ give ’er a home -an’ education. She was a great stay-at-home an’ we had to actually beg -’er to go. We knowed it was best, fer pa was weighted down with debt -an’ was a big drinker. She was soon weaned from us an’ ’fore she was -seventeen Colonel Frank Hansard married ’er an’ tuck ’er over to his -big plantation in Fannin’. We had our matters to look after, an’ they -had the’rn. It begun that way, an’ it’s kept up.” - -“I don’t know how true it is,” ventured Ewebanks, “but I have heard -that her husband was a proud, stuck-up, ambitious man, an’ that he -wished to cut off communication betwixt you two; but he’s dead an’ out -o’ the way now.” - -“Yes, but sometimes childern take after the’r fathers,” said the widow, -“an’, right or wrong, it’s natural fer a mother to sympathize with her -offspring. I’m sorter afeard the family wouldn’t want me even at ’er -deathbed. Now, ef they had jest ’a’ sent me word that she was low, -or——” - -“I’d be fer doin’ my duty accordin’ to my own lights,” declared -Ewebanks, when he saw she was going no further. “I don’t know as I’d -be bothered about what them gals, or the’r husbands, thought at sech a -serious time.” - -She nodded as if she agreed with him, and turned to go. “Joe’s waitin’ -fer his supper,” she said. “I’ll study about it, Jim. I couldn’t go -till tomorrow, anyway. But, Jim Ewebanks—” she hesitated for a moment, -and then she looked at him squarely—“Jim, I want to tell you that I -think you are a powerful good man. Yo’re a Christian o’ the right sort, -an’ I’m glad you are my neighbor.” - - - II - -That night Mrs. Thompson had a visit from Mrs. Ewebanks, accompanied -by her daughter Mary Ann, a fair slip of a creature of twelve years. -Mary Ann was always her mother’s companion on her social rounds in -the neighborhood. She was a very timid child and was never known to -open her mouth on any of these visits. They took the chairs offered -them before the fire. It was at once evident from Mrs. Ewebanks’s -manner that she had come to advise her neighbor, and she showed by her -disregard for oral approaches that she was going to reach her point by -a short cut. - -“Jim told me he’d been over,” she began, with a sneer, as she seated -herself squarely in her chair and brushed a brindled cat from under -her blue homespun skirt. “Scat! I don’t want yore flees! An’ he told -me, after I’d pumped ’im about dry, what he was fool enough to advise -you. Men hain’t a bit o’ gumption. What’s he want to tell you all that -foolishness fer? I hain’t never had a bit o’ use fer them high-falutin’ -Hansards. Why, they hain’t had respect enough fer yore feelin’s to even -let you know yore sister was at death’s door. Sally Wynn jest drapped -onto it by accident.” - -Mrs. Thompson was standing in the chimney-corner, her hand on the -little mantelpiece, but she sat down. - -“I reckon a body ort not to have ill-will at sech a time,” she -faltered. “Ef Melissa’s a-dyin’ I reckon it ’ud be nothin’ more’n human -fer me to want to be thar. She mought be sorry you see, in ’er last -hour, an’ wish she’d sent fer me. I’d hate to think _that_, after she -was laid away fer good an’ all.” - -“Pshaw!” Mrs. Ewebanks drew her damp, steaming shoes back from the -fire. She had something else to say. - -“I never told you, Martha Thompson, but I give it to that woman -straight from the shoulder not long back. I was visitin’ my brother -over thar. Mrs. Hansard used to drive out fer fresh air when the -weather was good, an’ she stopped at the spring on brother’s place one -day while I was thar gittin’ me a drink—no, I remember now, I was -pickin’ a place to set a bucket o’ fresh butter to harden it up fer -camp-meetin’. She didn’t take no more notice o’ me’n ef I’d been some -cornfield nigger, but you bet I started the conversation. I up an’ axed -’er ef she wasn’t a Hansard an’ when she ’lowed she was, I told ’er I -thought so from her favor to ’er sister over here. She got as red as a -pickled beet, an’ stammered an’ looked ashamed, then she sot into axin’ -how you was a-comin’ on, an’ the like.” - -“That was a good deal fer Melissa to do,” observed the widow. “Thar was -a time that she never mentioned my name. She’s awful proud.” - -“Oh, I’ll be bound you’ll make excuses fer ’er,” snapped Mrs. Ewebanks. -“When folks liter’ly knock the breath out’n you, you jump up an’ rub -the hurt place an’ ax the’r pardon. As fer me, I give that woman a -setback that I’ll bet she didn’t git over in a long time. I told ’er as -I looked straight in ’er eyes, that ef she wanted to know how ’er own -sister was makin’ of it, she’d better have ’er nigger drive ’er over to -the log shack Martha Thompson lives in, an’ pay a call.” - -“Oh, you said that!” - -“Yes, an’ she jest set on the carriage-seat an’ squirmed like an eel an’ -looked downcast an’ said nothin’.” - -“That must ’a’ been at the beginnin’ o’ ’er sickness,” said Mrs. -Thompson thoughtfully. She had missed the point of her visitor’s story -and kept her eyes on her son, who sat in the chimney-corner, his feet -on a pile of logs and kindling pine. - -“The Lord wouldn’t give blessed health to a pusson with her mean -sperit,” resumed the visitor warmly. “I jest set thar an’ wondered how -any mortal woman in a Christian land could calmly ax a stranger about -’er own sister livin’ twenty miles off an’ not go to see ’er. She tried -to talk about some’n else but she’d no sooner git started than I’d -deliberately switch ’er back to you an’ yore plight an’ I kept that -a-goin’ till she riz an’ driv off.” - -“I have heard,” said the widow, her glance going cautiously back -to her son, who had bent down to add another piece of pine to the -fire, “I have heard that Colonel Hansard was always in debt from his -extravagance, an’ that his family lived past the’r means. Brother -Thomas went to see Melissa once, an’ he said he believed she was a -misjudged woman. He ’lowed she was willin’ enough to do right, but that -her husband always made ’er feel dependent on him becase his money had -lifted ’er up. Brother Thomas said the gals had growed up like the’r -daddy, an’ that between ’em all, Melissa never’d had any will o’ her -own. I reckon I railly ort to go see ’er.” - -“Ef you do they’ll slam the door in yore face,” said Mrs. Ewebanks in -the angry determination to stir the widow’s pride. - -“I don’t think it’s a matter fer you to decide on, Mrs. Ewebanks.” The -widow leaned back out of the fire-light, and sat coldly erect. “I -believe in doin’ unto others as I’d have them do unto me, an’ ef I was -in Melissa’s fix I’d want to see my only livin’ sister. Facin’ the end -folks sometimes change powerful. Circumstances made ’er what she is; ef -she hadn’t been tuck by a rich man, she’d ’a’ been like common folks. -She used to love me when she was little, an’ I jest don’t want ’em to -lay ’er body away without seein’ ’er once more. I—I used to—I reckon -I still love ’er some.” - -Mrs. Thompson’s voice had sunk almost to a whisper. Mrs. Ewebanks moved -uneasily; a sneer had risen on her red face, but it died away. Joe -Thompson had suddenly turned upon her from the semi-darkness of his -corner. There was no mistaking the ferocious glare of his eyes. - -“It—it hain’t none o’ my business,” she stammered; “I—I jest——” - -Joe leaned forward; his round freckled face under the shock of tawny -hair, through which he had been running his fingers, was in the light. - -“Now yo’re a-shoutin’!” he said, with a harsh laugh; “it hain’t none o’ -yore business, but you stalked all the way over here tonight to attend -to it.” - -“Hush, Joe, be ashamed o’ yorese’f!” said his mother; “you’ve clean -forgot how to behave ’fore company.” - -“’Fore company hell!” Joe rose quickly and stumbled over a fire-log -which rolled down under his feet. There was a hint of tears in his eyes -and he shook his head like an angry dog as he went to the door and -stood with his back to the visitors in sullen silence. - -For a moment there was silence. Mrs. Ewebanks knew she had blundered -hopelessly. Mary Ann, who never said anything, and who seldom moved -when anyone was looking at her, now turned appealingly to her mother, -and, unfolding her gingham sunbonnet, she bent down and swung it like a -switchman’s flag between her knees. Mrs. Ewebanks paid no heed to it. -She dreaded her husband’s finding out what had passed, especially as he -had intrusted her with a message to Mrs. Thompson quite out of key with -her argument. - -“Jim told me to tell you he’d drive you over in his wagon in the -mornin’ ef you are bent on makin’ the trip,” she said almost -apologetically. - -Joe Thompson whirled round fiercely. His back was against the door, and -in his checked shirt and rolled-up sleeves he looked like a pugilist -ready for fight. - -“We don’t need any help from you-uns,” he snorted. “I’m goin’ to take -mother.” - -Mrs. Ewebanks now felt sure that her husband would blame her for the -rejection of his invitation. In her vexation she slapped Mary Ann’s red -hand loose from its urgent clutch on her skirt and turned to Joe. - -“I’m afeard I’ve been meddlin’ with what don’t concern me,” she began, -but the young man interrupted her. - -“It’s our bed-time,” he said fiercely. “The Lord knows mother’s had -enough o’ yore clatter fur one dose.” - -“Joe!” exclaimed Mrs. Thompson sternly, “I ’lowed you had more manners.” - -Mary Ann had drawn her mother’s skirt sharply to one side and grasped -her arm tenaciously. Mrs. Ewebanks allowed herself thus to be unseated, -and she rose meekly enough. There was nothing in her manner resembling -a threat that she would never be ordered out of that house again, and -in this Mary Ann witnessed her mother’s first swerving from habit. - -There was a look on the widow’s face which showed that she was almost -sorry for her visitor’s chagrin. - -“Don’t hurry,” she said in a pained and yet gentle tone. - -“Oh, no, don’t hurry!” Joe repeated, with a sneer; “stay to breakfast; -I’ll throw some more wood on the fire an’ let’s set down an’ talk.” - -The defeat of Mrs. Ewebanks was more than complete. Between her hostess -and the son she stood wavering. This provoked an actual vocal sound -from Mary Ann. At any other time the Thompsons would have marveled over -it. She grunted in impatience and then said audibly: - -“Come on, ma, let’s go home.” And in this it was as if the child had at -once extended a verbal hand of sympathy to the Thompsons and given her -mother a back-handed slap. - -There was nothing for Mrs. Ewebanks to do but obey, for Mary Ann -had stalked heavily from the cabin and just outside the door stood -beckoning to her. Joe had gone to the fireplace and was digging a grave -in the hot ashes for the fire-coated back-log. - -Mrs. Thompson shambled to the door and looked after her departing -guests. She could see their dresses in the light of the thinly veiled -moon as they slowly descended the narrow path. When the noise Joe was -making with the shovel and tongs had ceased she heard someone speaking -in a raised voice. For several minutes it continued, rising and falling -with the breeze, an uninterrupted monologue, growing fainter and -fainter as the visitors receded. - -It was the voice of Mary Ann. - - - III - -The Hansards lived in an old-fashioned, two-storied, white frame -building. It had dormer windows in the gray shingled roof and a long -veranda with massive fluted columns. Back of the house rose a rocky -hill covered with pines, and in front lay a wide, rolling lawn, through -which, for a quarter of a mile, stretched a white-graveled drive, -shaded by fine old water oaks from the house to the main traveled road. - -Along this drive the next morning Joe Thompson drove his mother in a -rickety buggy. On the left near the house was a row of cabins where the -negro servants lived, and standing somewhat to itself was the white -cottage of the overseer of the plantation. The doors of all the cabins -were closed, and no one was in sight. - -“I’m afeared she’s wuss, an’ they’ve all gone to the big house,” sighed -Mrs. Thompson. “Maybe we won’t git thar in time.” - -Joe made no response, but he whipped his mare into a quicker pace. -When they reached the veranda and alighted no one came to meet them. A -negro woman hastened across the hall, but she did not look toward Mrs. -Thompson, who stood on the steps waiting for Joe to hitch his mare to a -post nearby. - -“Ain’t you goin’ to come in?” she asked, when he came toward her. - -“No, I’ll wait out here,” he answered, and he sat down on the steps. - -She hesitated for an instant, then she turned resolutely into the great -carpeted hall, and through a door on the right she entered a large -parlor. No one was there. The carpet was rich in color and texture, the -furniture massive and fine. Over the mantel was a large oil portrait -of Colonel Hansard, and on the opposite wall one of his wife painted -just after her marriage. Set into the wall and hung about with lace -drapery was a mirror that reached from the floor to the ceiling. From -this room, through an open door on her left, Mrs. Thompson went into -another. It was the library. No one was there. On all sides of the room -were glass-doored cases of richly bound books. Here and there on tables -and stands stood time-yellowed marble busts and pots of plants. In a -corner of the room was a revolving bookcase, and in the centre a long -writing-table covered with green cloth. - -The old woman looked about her perplexed. Everything was so still that -she could hear the scratching of a honeysuckle vine against the window -under the touch of the breeze. She wondered if her sister had died, and -if everybody had gone to the funeral. - -She was on the point of returning to Joe, when she was startled by a -low moan in an adjoining room. The sound came through a door on her -right, which was slightly ajar. She cautiously pushed it open. The room -contained an awed and silent group. The crisis had come. Mrs. Hansard -was dying. She lay on a high-canopied bed in a corner, hidden from Mrs. -Thompson’s view by the family and servants gathered at the bed. Seeing a -vacant chair in a row of women against a wall, the visitor went in and -sat down. Her black cotton sunbonnet hid her face, and, as there were -others present as humbly clad as she, she attracted little notice. - -There was a breathless silence for a moment. Those at the bed seemed to -be leaning forward in great agitation. Suddenly one of the daughters of -the dying woman cried out: “Oh, doctor! Come quick!” and a physician -who stood near advanced and bent over his patient. - -After a moment he silently withdrew to the fireplace, where he simply -stood looking at the fire in the grate. Edith, the eldest child, -followed and asked him a question. He gravely nodded, and with her -handkerchief to her eyes she burst into tears. Her husband, the -Governor’s son, a handsome, manly fellow, came to her and, putting his -arm around her, drew her back to the bed. - -“She’s trying to speak,” he whispered, and for the next moment the -dying woman’s labored breathing was the only sound in the room. - -“Father! Mother!” Mrs. Thompson was hearing her sister’s voice for the -first time in twenty-five years. “Brother Thomas! Uncle Frank! Where -are you?” - -“She is thinking of her childhood,” said Edith in a whisper. She bent -over her mother and in a calm, steady voice said: - -“We are all here, mother dear—Susie and Annie and Jasper and I.” - -There was silence for a moment; then the voice of the dying woman rose -in keen appeal. - -“Martha! Oh, I want Martha—I want Martha!” - -The two sisters exchanged anxious glances. - -“She means Aunt Martha Thompson,” whispered Susie; “we have not sent -for her. What shall we do?” - -Edith bent over the pillow. - -“Mother dear——” - -“I want Martha, my sister Martha!” Mrs. Hansard said impatiently, and -she beat the white coverlet with her thin hand. “Martha, sister Martha, -where are you?” - -“Here I am, Melissa.” The gaunt figure rose suddenly, to the surprise -of all, and moved toward the bed. They made room for her. There was no -time for formal explanations or greetings. “I’m here, Melissa; I heard -you was sick, an’ ’lowed I’d better drap in.” - -“Thank God!” cried Mrs. Hansard, as she took the hardened hand in her -frail fingers and tried to press it. “I’ve been prayin’ God to let me -see you once more. I want you to forgive me, Martha. I’m dying. I’ve -done you a great wrong. Forgive me, forgive me!” - -“La, me, Melissa, I hain’t a thing to forgive!” was the calm, insistent -reply; “not a blessed thing! It was all as much my doin’ as yore’n. We -was both jest natural—that’s all—jest natural, like the Lord made -us—me in my way, and you in yore’n.” - -Edith kissed her aunt’s wrinkled cheek gratefully, and, with her cheek -on the old woman’s shoulder, she wept silently. - -“I thank God; I feel easier now,” said Mrs. Hansard. “You’ve made me -happier, Martha. I can die easier now. God is good.” - -Someone gave Mrs. Thompson a chair, and she sat down and held her -sister’s hand till it was all over. Then the Governor’s son took the -old woman’s arm and led her into the sitting-room, and there the three -motherless girls joined her. - -“You are much like her,” sobbed Susie, the youngest; “you have her eyes -and mouth.” - -“Yes, folks used to say we favored,” said Mrs. Thompson simply. - -“You must not leave us, Aunt Martha,” said Edith. “We must keep you -with us. She would like to have it so.” - -“Yes, do, do, Aunt Martha,” chimed in Susie and Annie. - -The old woman had folded her bonnet in her lap and was holding her -rough hands out to the fire. She smiled as if vaguely pleased, and yet -she shook her head. - -“No, don’t ax me _that_, girls,” she said. “I’ve got ways an’ habits -that ain’t one bit like yore’n. I’d feel out o’ place anywhar except -in my cabin. I couldn’t change at my time o’ life. Joe’s workin’ fer -me, an’ he’ll never marry. He hates the sight of a woman. He says they -meddle. He’s waitin’ fer me now outside, an’ I reckon I ort to be -a-goin’.” - -“But not till after—after the funeral,” said Susie. - -“Yes, honey. I don’t think I ort to wait. I’ve got lots to do at home. -My cows are to feed an’ milk, an’ it’s a long drive. It’ll be in the -night when we git home. Remember, me an’ yore mother hain’t been -intimate sence we was childern. I’m her sister by blood, but not by -raisin’, an’ I hain’t the same sort o’ mourner as you-uns, an’ don’t -think I ort to pass as one in public. I wouldn’t feel exactly natural, -that’s all.” - -The Governor’s son nodded his head as if he agreed with her, and the -girls silently gave her her wish. - - - - - _A Remorseful Regret_ - - -“If I’d only married her!” muttered Tanquerly, with the bitter regret -of a lost soul bewailing vanished opportunities. - -I thought of the sweet little wife he had at home, and was swamped with -surprise. - -“Oh, if I’d only married her!” he repeated, still more intensely. - -The woman referred to occupied a seat across and further down the car -from us. She had a form that made the ordinary carpenter’s scaffolding -look graceful and huggable, her jaw reminded one of a trip-hammer, her -face was plotted to throw a nervous child into convulsions, and her -voice!—her voice would make a busy boiler-factory seem restful and -serene after a second of it. She had just had a slight controversy with -the conductor, and that official—you know how shy and shrinking the -ordinary street-car conductor is—had been reduced to quivering pulp in -a trifle over a minute. He, one of the most explosive and overbearing -of his kind, had joined issue with her confidently and gleefully, -but when her strident voice once got to working full time, about two -hundred and fifty words to the second, I calculated, analyzing his -character, dissecting his reputation, tearing up his habits, unjointing -his hopes, shredding his ambitions, and ruthlessly forecasting his -future, it was pathetic to watch that strong man striving fruitlessly -to stem the torrent, then yielding little by little, still struggling -strenuously to get in a word, until at last he was swept out on to -the back platform, a mangled and lacerated bundle of raw nerves, too -broken-spirited to so much as curse a little fussy old gentleman who -berated him for not stopping the car at his corner. I never saw the -stiffening so thoroughly, quickly and completely taken out of a man in -my life. Oh, it was pitiable! - -“If I’d only married her!” murmured Tanquerly again. - -“Are you crazy?” I demanded sharply. - -Tanquerly shook his head slowly and painfully. “No,” he said, “not -yet. But I’ll bet if I’d only married her I wouldn’t have been to that -banquet last night and felt like this this morning.” - - - - - _Nothing to Gain_ - -FARMER MOSSBACKER—Are ye goin’ to send your son to college, Ezry? - -FARMER BENTOVER—Hod-durn him—no! He’s a reg’lar rowdy now! - - - - - _Franchise Wealth and Municipal Ownership_ - - - BY JOHN H. GIRDNER, M.D. - -There is much writing and talk about _municipal ownership_ in these -days. When you talk about a municipality or an individual owning -something, it implies that there is _something_ to own. It is about -this “something” that I want to write. I want to make it clear to the -reader what I mean by _franchise wealth_ or _franchise property_, and -exactly how it differs from private wealth or private property. - -When you buy a house and lot in a town or city, your property is of two -kinds, private property and franchise property. Your private property -begins at the building line in front and extends backward the full -width of your lot to the fence or line which divides your back yard -from the back yard of your neighbor who fronts on the next street. Your -franchise property extends from the building or stoop line, outward, -the full width of your lot, across the sidewalk and on to the middle of -the street where it meets the franchise property of your neighbor on -the opposite side of your street. - -The money to grade, drain and pave the street in front of your lot was -raised by assessments levied on that lot. These assessments were added, -by previous owners, perhaps, to the cost of the lot, and were a part -of the price you paid for the lot. In other words, you bought and paid -for the franchise property in front of your stoop line as directly as -you did for the private property behind the stoop line, and you are -therefore entitled to the usufruct of the one as much as the other. - -The aggregate of the franchise wealth of all the individual owners -in any given street is the sum total of the franchise wealth of that -street. And the aggregate of the franchise wealth of all the streets of -a given town or city is the sum total of the franchise wealth of that -city. And it is absolutely owned by all the inhabitants of that city, -for everyone contributes in some manner to the creation and maintenance -of this franchise wealth. - -There is another thing about this kind of property which the people -ought to keep in mind. Like their private property, their rights in -this franchise property extend from the surface right down into the -earth, as far as it is practical to dig; and, from the surface, right -up into the sky, as high as it is practical to build. It is well, I -say, to keep these facts in mind; they may come in handy when a corrupt -mayor and board of aldermen, or an eminently respectable board of rapid -transit commissioners, are about to hand over to a private corporation -a city subway or elevated road. - -The tremendous importance of the franchise wealth on all social -and economic questions in a city like New York may be more fully -appreciated if we call to mind this fact, viz.: - -That the value of any piece of city real estate is determined almost -entirely by the character of the franchise property in front of and -nearby it. - -Why does a lot one hundred feet deep, with twenty-five feet front on -Fifth avenue, sell for so much more than a similar lot fronting on -Second avenue? They are the same size. They are composed alike of earth -and rock. You can dig as deep a foundation and build as high in the -air on the one as the other. But why the great difference in price? -You say because Fifth avenue is a better street than Second avenue. -But this answer does not explain much. What you mean to say is, that -there are certain characteristics, which I have not time to discuss -here in detail, connected with the franchise property in front of and -contiguous to the Fifth avenue lot which make it more valuable than -similar characteristics connected with the franchise property in front -of and contiguous to the Second avenue lot. And this is my point, that -it is at last the character of the franchise property of a street or a -city which determines the value of the private property or real estate -of that street or city. - -The streets of New York City, which I have called franchise wealth -or franchise property to distinguish this kind of property from the -private property of the individual, were built and are maintained with -money contributed by all the citizens; and all the citizens are as -fully entitled to the usufruct of them, as is any individual to the -usufruct of his private property. - -The individual manages his private property or he employs an agent to -manage it for him. And he holds this agent to a strict account. If the -agent appropriates the income from the use of his private property -the law steps in and justly punishes him. Acting collectively, the -individuals elect by ballot a mayor and board of aldermen and members -of the State legislature as agents to manage their franchise property -for them. - -“Wheresoever the carcass is, there will the eagles be gathered -together.” In every large city there is a fat carcass of franchise -wealth, and there you find the corporation eagles, and the political -eagles gathered together to gorge themselves on it. The corporation -eagles deceive the unsuspecting citizens by a pretended desire to serve -them. They call themselves “public service corporations.” There never -was a worse misnomer than this. They are wolves in sheep’s clothing. -They fatten on the people’s franchise wealth and serve no one except -themselves and their congeners, the political eagles. So far from being -_servants_ they become the masters of the people whose property they -have obtained by every corrupt device that the vulpine instinct of man -can invent. - -The political eagles that feed on the franchise carcass have a -different way of deceiving the people. They organize themselves into -what they call a political party, and, by working three hundred -and sixty-five days in the year, while other men are attending to -their legitimate businesses, they get control of the legal political -machinery of one of the great national parties. The name by which -they call their organization will depend on the particular city they -are operating in. In New York, for instance, they call themselves -Democrats, not because they know or care anything about the principles -of Democracy, but because a majority of the independent voters are -Democrats, and then they secure the votes to elect their candidates -from the very people they intend to despoil once they get in. For -a similar reason the political eagles of Philadelphia call their -organization Republican. If the majority of the voters of any city -favored prohibition, you would have that city’s organized political -eagles calling themselves Prohibitionists. New York, Philadelphia, -Chicago, St. Louis, every city in this country which has a fat -franchise wealth carcass, has its corporation and political eagles -gathered together to devour it. - -When a complete history of New York City for the past forty years is -written, not the least interesting chapters will be an account of the -development, growth and present perfection of the system by which the -corporations and politicians enriched themselves at the expense of the -people, and how the people were so hypnotized that they were unable -to rise in their might and drive out these cormorants. This era of -corruption began with William M. Tweed. The enterprise was in its -infancy then and Tweed was a blunderer. He and his associates robbed -the city treasury on false vouchers, fraudulent bills, etc. Then came -Jake Sharp, who bribed the aldermen outright with cash to induce them -to hand over to him some millions worth of the people’s franchise -wealth. Tweed and his people, Jake Sharp and the boodle aldermen got -into trouble, state prison or exile. - -Politicians do not like striped clothes when the stripes all run one -way any better than other folks do. So a new and safer system had to -be found for exploiting the people. Money in the form of campaign -contributions from the individual or corporation who wants something -to the head of the organization who could deliver that something after -election, looked good and safe, and this is the plan which has been in -operation in New York for some years. - -During the last mayoralty campaign in this city I was told one -evening by a man who is thoroughly reliable, and who is in a position -to know, that the Consolidated Gas Company, of this city, had paid -$300,000 into the campaign fund of Tammany Hall. George B. McClellan, -the Tammany candidate for mayor, was elected. In less than one year -after taking office he signed the so-called Remsen gas bill. Had it -become a law it would have tightened the clutch of the Gas Trust more -firmly on the people of this city and would have turned over to that -corporation some millions more of their franchise wealth. Fortunately a -Republican governor vetoed it and saved, for the time at least, further -encroachments on the people’s rights. - -And you have today the spectacle of this so-called Democratic mayor -lined up with the Trust magnates and their money-bags at the big ends -of the gas-tubes and against the people of all parties who suffer -extortion at the little ends of the gas-tubes. He is actually opposing -the efforts of the people of this city to secure the necessary -legislation to permit them to build and operate their own gas-plants -and deliver the gas to themselves through pipes laid in their own -streets. And if you refuse to support such a man you are likely to be -told by an insolent Tammany Hall henchman that you are no Democrat. - -Talk about municipal ownership! Why, the municipality, which is another -name for the people, already own everything they need. They own the -streets and the right of way through them, and they own the money to -build lighting plants, railways and telephone lines. The only thing -they do not own is _permission_ to use their own property. And this is -withheld from them by greedy Trust magnates through their bought-up -politicians. - -We need MEN in this city who cannot be deceived by the _names_ -Democracy and Republicanism. We need men who will stand together -and protect our franchise property against grafting politicians and -grafting political organizations, no matter by what names they call -themselves. New York City may be likened to a big “skyscraper” laid -on its side. The streets correspond to the elevator shafts. Now, what -would be thought of the sanity of a company of men who built a high -office building, hotel or apartment house and allowed their agents to -give away to outsiders the right to run the elevators and the further -right to prey upon the tenants who are obliged to use them? Yet this is -exactly what the politicians have done and are doing with the streets -of this city. - -Make an inventory of the Gas Trust’s property, find out how much it -would cost to duplicate its plant, then subtract that sum from the -capitalization of the Trust and the remainder is franchise property, -and that belongs to the people. Go through the list of telephone, -telegraph and railway companies the same way, and you will begin to get -an idea of the value and earning capacity of your franchise property -which has been stolen from you by your agents, the officeholders. - -If the agent of an individual deeds away a piece of his private -property and fails to make a just return to the owner, the law -holds the title to be spurious and punishes that agent. But the -officeholders, the agents appointed by all the individuals to care for -their franchise property, deed it away to so-called public service -corporations, pocket the proceeds and go scot-free! - -The telephone, telegraph and all the corporations that use wires and -electricity appropriate and use the people’s private property as -well as their franchise property. Go on your roofs, New Yorkers, and -count the electric wires that the thieving electricity corporations -have attached to your houses or have strung across your lots without -your permission. Remember that you own a space equal to the surface -dimensions of your lot down into the bowels of the earth and up into -the sky as far as you like to go. And nobody has the right to string -wires across this space in the air or in the earth without your -permission. The New York Telephone Company attached a wire to the roof -of a house I had leased. I threatened to cut the wire. The company -insolently replied that they needed that wire on my roof to carry on -their business. I insisted on justice and my rights in the matter. -The company then came round with a lease, which I signed, granting -them permission to pass their wire over my roof, and I received a -substantial annual rental for that privilege. - -These corporations appropriate your private property as well as your -franchise property for their own enrichment and pay nothing for it. -They would string wires on your teeth if they needed them and you did -not object. And to cap the climax they charge extortionate rates for -service in order to pay dividends on watered stock. I wrote these facts -a few years ago and offered the article to two daily newspapers in -this town, and they did not dare to publish it. But thank God TOM -WATSON’S MAGAZINE exists to tell the truth. New Yorkers, you ought -to examine the fences around your backyards. You surely own them, and -they are valuable property. They produce an enormous income to—the -telephone company. Tens of thousands of yards of telephone wires are -strung on these fences. The company uses them to get wires into your -houses, in order to charge you extortionate prices for ’phone service. -The company will tell you they need these fences to give _you_ ’phone -service. That answer reminds me of the answer given by a negro girl -caught stealing raisins from her mistress’s bureau drawer. “Why did you -steal those raisins?” asked the mistress. Sally replied, “Why, missus, -dey’s good.” - - - - - _The Cause of the Congregating_ - -“MY friends,” began the Great Man, in a voice admirably adapted for -declamatory purposes, as he stepped out upon the platform of the car -and beheld the major portion of the inhabitants of the wayside hamlet -seething and jostling around the station, “I thank you from the bottom -of my heart for this enthusiastic greeting, this spontaneous outpouring -of your best citizens, this wholesale welcome, this——” - -“Wholesale gran’mother!” broke in a youthful and pessimistic voice. -“It ain’t you that’s the attraction—a big fat drummer is havin’ the -gol-rammedest fit you ever had the pleasure of witnessin’, right there -in the waitin’-room!” - - * * * * * - - _That Fateful Day_ - -FREDDIE—How long does the honeymoon last, dad? - -COBWIGGER—Until a fellow’s wife learns not to be afraid of him. - - - - - _The Storm-Petrel_ - - - PROSE POEM BY MAXIM GORKY - TRANSLATED BY ABRAHAM CAHAN - - [NOTE: The following prose poem by Maxim - Gorky was written a few years ago in prophecy of - the present crisis in Russia and was published - only in _Life_, the leading literary magazine of - St. Petersburg. In consequence the periodical was - immediately suppressed. The editor and his entire - staff voluntarily expatriated themselves and - re-established the magazine in London, whence, during - the few months of its existence in exile, thousands - of copies were smuggled over the frontier for secret - circulation. - - Gorky was arrested for complicity in the strikers’ - movement that resulted in the St. Petersburg massacre - of January 22 last. The rumor that the Russian - Government purposed to sentence him to death excited - so much feeling, that the foremost literary men of - Germany, England and the United States concerted in - an appeal for clemency, on the ground that the life - and work of a great writer belong not alone to his - country but to the world. - - Gorky has risen from the depths of poverty and - ignorance to literary eminence as the interpreter of - life among the masses. His first successful short - stories appeared in the newspapers and attracted - attention for their truth and vigor. Since 1893 - he has made his literary position secure by the - production of various novels and plays. He is now - thirty-six years old. - - Abraham Cahan, translator of the poem, is a - Russian who has attained distinction among American - writers of fiction through short stories and the - novels, “Yekl” and “The White Terror and the - Red.”—EDITORS.] - -Over the gray expanse of sea the wind is gathering the clouds. Circling -between the clouds and the sea, like a black flash of lightning, is the -storm-petrel on high. - -Now touching a wave with his wing, now shooting heavenward, dart-like, -he is crying, and the clouds hear glad tidings in his cry. - -There is thirst for storm in that cry. The force of rage, the flame of -passion, the confidence of victory do the clouds hear in that cry. - -The gulls are groaning before the storm, groaning and tossing over the -sea; ready to hide their terror at the bottom of the sea. - -The cargeese, too, are groaning. The joy of the struggle is unknown to -them; the din of strife awes them. - -The silly albatross hides his fat body in the cliffs. The proud -storm-petrel alone is soaring boldly, freely over the sea, the waves -singing, dancing on high, coming to meet the thunder. - -The thunder roars. Foaming with fury, the waves are raging, battling -with the wind. Now the wind seizes a flock of waves in gigantic -embrace, now hurls them with savage hate to the rocks, shattering them -to dust and masses of emerald spray. - -Shouting joyously, the storm-petrel is circling like a black flash of -lightning, piercing the clouds like a spear, brushing foam off the -waves with its wings. - -There he is, flying like a demon, a proud, black storm-demon, laughing -and sobbing at once. It is at the clouds he is laughing; it is for joy -he is sobbing. - -In the thunder’s rage the sensitive demon perceives a weary note, the -voice of defeat. He knows that the clouds cannot conceal the sun—not -they! - -The wind is sighing; the thunder is pealing. Hundreds of clouds gleam -bluish over the precipice of the sea. The sea is catching darts of -lightning and smothering them in its bosom. Like serpents of fire the -reflections of the lightning are writhing, vanishing one after the -other. - -The storm is advancing! Another minute and the storm will come with a -crash. - -It is the intrepid storm-petrel who is proudly careering among the -flashes of lightning over the roaring, infuriated sea; it is the -prophet of victory who is shouting. - -Let the storm blow and roar with all its might! - - - - - _What Buzz-Saw Morgan Thinks_ - - - BY W. S. MORGAN - -Trusts breed distrust. - -Law cannot make wrong right. - -Charity is no cure for poverty; it is only a plaster. - -A forty-three-cent protective tariff is worse than a fifty-cent dollar. - -Fiat dollars are better than the fiat promises of the old party -politicians. - -The rich will continue to grow richer and the poor poorer as long as -the present financial system exists. - -I want to ask our Democratic friends how often do they need to be -fooled by their leaders before they will get their eyes open? - -Liberty is not safe in a country where greed and avarice are the basis -of its prosperity. - -The gold power owes allegiance to no party, yet it controls the -machines of both old parties. - -If there is anything that is calculated to give the political bosses -the jim-jams it is a show of independence on the part of the masses. - -I would rather be a dog and scratch at the root of a stump for a mouse, -than to feel as small as most rich people do when the assessor and -tax-collector come round. - -Money paid out for public improvements is a blessing compared with that -paid out for war expenses. - -An honest dollar is one that preserves the equity in contracts, and not -the one of increasing or decreasing value, or whose value depends upon -the caprice or self-interest of a few bankers. - -The greatest need of this country is for about seven million men who -have the courage to vote for what they want. - -“The poverty of the poor is their destruction,” and the wealth of the -rich has the same effect on its possessors. These two extremes are the -cause of the downfall of the nations. - -There are some things of which there can be an overproduction, and one -of them is yellow-dog politics. - -Is there a farmer or laborer in all the land that ever signed a -petition to Congress for the destruction of the greenbacks? - -The question of 16 to 1 is still an issue; that is, there are sixteen -reasons why the Democratic party should permit itself to be buried to -one against it. - -The banks are in the field to destroy the greenbacks and secure -complete control of the currency. - -It is not despair but hope that incites revolution. Despair is death. - -The workingmen divide what they produce with every idler in the land, -rich and poor. - -The way to get even with a private trust is for the people to establish -a public trust. - -It wasn’t the so-called “sound money” men that saved the flag. - -It is the hog nature in man that causes most of the suffering in the -world. - -Our commercial system rests upon the basis of skinning the other fellow -before he has an opportunity to skin us. - -One of the strongest planks in the devil’s platform is yellow-dog -politics. - -The best way to abolish poverty is to establish justice. - -You can’t cheat the devil by passing a law that calls stealing business. - -The lower classes are those who act low—rich or poor. - -The practice of redeeming one kind of a dollar with another kind -constitutes the banker’s cinch. - -The harmony that will likely prevail in the next national Democratic -convention might best be illustrated by pouring out a barrel of -Kilkenny cats upon a wet floor. - -I don’t think that Mr. Bryan is a thief, but he had the Populist -platform borrowed so long that he has perhaps inadvertently fallen into -the habit of thinking it is his own. - -Railroads under private ownership form the strongest prop on which the -trusts lean. Through special and reduced rates in the way of rebates -they are enabled to freeze out all competitors. - -It is stated that the rebate given to the Colorado Fuel and Iron -Company by the Santa Fé Railroad while Paul Morton was its traffic -manager amounted to $400,000 a year. Morton was a heavy stockholder -in the Colorado Fuel and Iron Company. If this is true, and this is -the kind of man President Roosevelt is depending on to reform railroad -rates and abolish rebates, we may know just what to expect. - -The supreme test of any question is, is it right? If it is, then no man -should hesitate to declare himself for the right. - -Direct legislation is the very essence of democracy, and that is why -the politicians don’t want it. - - * * * * * - -If Thomas Lawson is telling the truth it appears that about -three-fourths of the Captains of Industry ought to be wearing striped -clothes behind prison bars. - - * * * * * - -The President’s recommendation for the control of the railroads, and -the plan he seems to have adopted to go about it, consultation with -the railroad magnates, reminds me of a story I once heard related by a -German speaker at a public meeting. A man who had been considered as -having an unsound mind was found one morning hanging to a beam in the -barn, the rope under his arms. He was promptly cut down, and on being -asked why he hanged himself that way he answered that he was trying to -commit suicide. - -“But why didn’t you place the rope around your neck?” he was asked. - -“I’ve tried it that way twice,” he replied, “and it always chokes me.” - -Is the President afraid of choking the railroad corporations? - - * * * * * - -The question of how to get something for nothing is pretty well -illustrated in the free government deposits in national banks. The -banks have now over one hundred millions of dollars of government -money for their own use, for which they do not pay a cent. Yet when -the farmer talks about borrowing money from the government on his land -at 2 per cent. interest, the banks raise a howl of paternalism that -can be heard all around the world. If President Roosevelt is sincere -in his fight on the trusts let him yank that money out of the hands of -the biggest trust of all—the money trust. This is something that he -can do and that ought to be done. There is no constitutional question -involved, and if it be urged that it is necessary for the money to be -in circulation let the government loan it direct to the people without -a rake-off for the banks. This thing of prosecuting the little trusts -and aiding the big ones won’t add any laurels to Teddy’s brow. Let no -guilty trust escape, and there ain’t any innocent ones. - - * * * * * - -Toledo has just brought in a batch of indictments against some of her -public officials. Governor Durbin, of Indiana, declares: “Statistics -of political debauchery in this State for 1904, if it were possible -to present them, would be nothing short of stunning.” Several other -governors in their messages have called attention to the growth of -corruption in their States, and in Colorado the situation is alarming. -Three United States senators have been indicted within the past year, -besides scores of lesser officials, some of whom are now serving terms -in the penitentiary. Four Republican candidates for governor have been -defeated in Republican States on account of their connection or -sympathy with corrupt practices, and yet the work is only begun. Let -the crusade against political corruption continue. If there is not room -enough in the jails, I move that some of the horse thieves be turned -out and the public thieves turned in. - - * * * * * - -The express companies once had a monopoly of transmitting money and -charged exorbitant rates for the service. Then the government went -into the business and reduced the rates. The express companies were -compelled to come to the government rates or not get any business. -Thus money is saved to the people, and the business is established on -a firm basis. Of course the express companies set up the usual cry of -paternalism, but it did no good, and the people would not think now of -surrendering this prerogative to private companies. Now, why can’t the -government add to its postal system the carrying of parcels, say up to -ten or twelve pounds’ weight, and a telegraph and telephone system? -The latter are just as legitimate and necessary as the former. Is it -because the express companies, that have grown immensely rich, have a -lobby in Congress to prevent the passage of such a bill? In England -they have the parcels post and the government telegraph, and they -save the people millions of dollars. In the past few years nineteen -congressional committees have been appointed to investigate the use of -the telegraph in connection with the postal department and seventeen -of them have reported favorably toward establishing it. A majority of -Postmaster Generals have recommended it, and the people demand it, yet -the telegraph companies, or rather one company which is controlled by -one family, has been successful in thwarting all legislation toward the -establishment of a government telegraph system. - - * * * * * - -The readiness of the Democrats to vote for any old thing they see coming -down the pike with the Democratic label on—Parker or Bryan, the gold -standard or free silver—reminds me of an incident that happened down -in Texas. A wealthy farmer who employed a great many negroes was going -into town one day, and one of the negroes on the farm asked him to -bring him back a marriage license. - -“All right, Pete,” said the farmer, “but what’s the girl’s name?” - -“Ann Brown,” replied the darkey. - -When the farmer returned that evening he gave the negro his marriage -license. - -Pete took it and slowly read it over. - -“Look heah, Marse Henry, you’se done gone an’ got dis license fer Mary -Clarke. I’se gwine t’ marry Ann Brown.” - -“I’m sorry, Pete,” the farmer replied, “but never mind; when I go into -town again next week I’ll get you another license.” - -“What’ll dat cost?” asked Pete. - -“One dollar.” - -“Lordy, nebber mind, Marse. Dere ain’t a dollar’s wuff ob difference -’tween all de coons on de fa’m.” - - * * * * * - -Every effort is now being put forth by the banks to have the greenbacks -retired. So long as they continue to be issued by the government the -banks have not complete control of the money of the country. This -movement to retire the greenbacks was begun directly after the Civil -War. At that time the bankers said: “It will not do to allow the -greenback, as it is called, to circulate as money for any length of -time, for we cannot control that.” Hugh McCulloch, then Secretary of -the Treasury, acting on the bankers’ suggestion, said: “The first thing -to be done is to establish the policy of contraction.” It was done, -and we had the panic of 1873, on account of which thousands lost their -homes. The panic aroused the people and caused the bankers to pause -in their conspiracy. The Greenback party came and $346,000,000 in -greenbacks were saved from destruction. But in the meantime the bankers -had silver secretly demonetized. In 1878, however, it was partially -restored by the Bland-Allison law. But the bankers were still at work. -In October, 1877, the famous Buell circular letter was sent to the -bankers throughout the country. “It is advisable,” said this circular, -“to do all in your power to sustain such prominent daily and weekly -newspapers, especially the agricultural and religious press, as will -oppose the issuing of greenback paper money, and that you also withhold -patronage or favors from all applicants who are not willing to oppose -the government issue of money. Let the government issue the coin and -the banks issue the paper money of the country, for then we can better -protect each other.” - - * * * * * - -In March, 1893, the American Bankers’ Association sent out to all the -national banks what is known as the “panic circular.” In view of the -present efforts on the part of the banks to retire the greenbacks, this -circular furnishes some very good reading matter: - - DEAR SIR: The interests of national - bankers require immediate financial legislation by - Congress. Silver, silver certificates and Treasury - notes must be retired and national bank-notes upon a - gold basis made the only money. This will require the - authorization of from $500,000,000 to $1,000,000,000 - of new bonds as a basis of circulation. You will at - once retire one-third of your circulation and call in - one-half of your loans. Be careful to make a money - stringency felt among your patrons, especially among - influential business men. Advocate an extra session - of Congress for the repeal of the purchasing clause - of the Sherman law, and act with the other banks of - your city in securing a large petition to Congress - for its unconditional repeal, as per accompanying - form. Use personal influence with congressmen and - particularly let your wishes be known to senators. - The future life of national banks as safe investments - depends upon immediate action, as there is an - increasing sentiment in favor of government legal - tender notes and silver coinage. - -Does anyone but the bankers themselves, and their paid agents, believe -for a moment that it would be safe to surrender the control of the -currency of the country into the hands of men who would put out such a -circular as that? May we not conjecture what they would do when once -they had us in their power? If there are those who are in doubt about -this question, or the patriotism and honesty of the national bankers, -let them read the history of the panics of 1873 and 1893, both of which -were precipitated by the bankers. Let the government take the bankers -at their word and compel them to keep in their banks a reserve gold -fund for the redemption of their own notes. Abolish the gold reserve -in the Treasury and make every greenback a perpetual, absolute money, -receivable for all dues to the United States, and a legal tender for -the payment of private debts. In other words, put the banks where the -government is now, if they are to issue any notes at all, and give the -government the prerogatives which the banks now want, and some of which -they already have. Instead of the government loaning money to the banks -at one-fourth of one per cent., let it loan it to the people direct -at two per cent. Instead of the government maintaining a large supply -of gold for the benefit of the banks, let the banks furnish their own -gold for the redemption of their notes, and compel them to maintain -a 100-cent reserve, for a note that has only 50 cents behind it is -worse than any 50-cent dollar that the banker has ever conjured in his -mind. Money issued by the banks and that issued by the government are -entirely different propositions. If the banks have proved anything they -have proved too much. They have proved that the government credit is -the best in the world, that it will even make the note of a dishonest -banker good. They have proved that it would not be safe to place the -control of the currency into their hands, for they might at any time -issue another panic circular asking the banks to call in “one-third of -their circulation and one-half of their loans,” and a lot of other mean -things that an honest man and a patriot would not do. The question is -now up, and it is nearing the climax where the people must decide as to -whether the banks will control the currency of the country, and through -it the business of the country, or whether the power shall remain in -the hands of the people, as Jefferson says, “where it belongs.” - - - - - _A Family Necessity_ - - -“James,” said Mrs. Talkyerdeth, as she discontentedly jabbed her -hatpins into the hat she had just taken off, “one of us has got to be -operated on.” - -“Wha-at!” ejaculated Mr. Talkyerdeth, sitting up with a jolt. - -“And right away, and seriously, too,” continued Mrs. Talkyerdeth, -setting her lips firmly. - -“What are you talking about, Maria?” demanded Mr. Talkyerdeth -impatiently. - -“Well, it’s so,” asserted Mrs. Talkyerdeth decidedly. “Will you -telephone for a surgeon, or shall I?” - -“Why, my dear,” protested Mr. Talkyerdeth anxiously, “I hadn’t the -least suspicion that there was anything the matter with you.” - -“There isn’t,” snapped Mrs. Talkyerdeth. “Do you take me for one of -these puling, pasty, putty-like females all the women seem to be -nowadays?” - -“Well, there’s nothing the matter with me, either,” asserted Mr. -Talkyerdeth, with intense relief in every glad accent. “I never felt -better in my life than I do this minute.” - -“I know it. But what difference does that make?” demanded Mrs. -Talkyerdeth sharply. - -“Eh?” cried Mr. Talkyerdeth, his eyelids flying up and his lower jaw -dropping down until there seemed to be some danger of their colliding, -if they kept on, in the middle of the back of his head. - -“I never was so mortified in my life as I was at the sewing society -this afternoon, and it’s never going to happen again,” replied Mrs. -Talkyerdeth positively. “So you can just make up your mind that the -doctor is going to chop something, I don’t care what, out of one of us -right straight off. Why, every woman there was telling all about either -her own or her husband’s operation, and I had to sit with my mouth shut -all afternoon, just because we’ve never had one!” - - ALEX. RICKETTS. - - - - - _The Songs We Love_ - - BY EUGENE C. DOLSON - - The songs we love, the dear heart songs - That light us on our way, - Are records of our smiles and tears— - Our lives from day to day. - - For words to simple nature true - Are those that reach the heart, - And that which thrills the common soul - Is still the highest art. - - - - - _The Alligator of Blique Bayou_ - - A CUBAN TALE - - - BY FRANK SAVILE - -The smoking-room steward yawned his despair. The card parties had -broken up half an hour before, nightcap drinks had been ordered, -tumblers had been emptied, and half a dozen men had risen to their feet -with “Good night” upon their lips. It looked as if the long-suffering -attendant were to be allowed a real six hours’ sleep below. - -And then a single word—“fishing”—had changed all these bright -prospects in the twinkling of an eye. The globe-trotting Englishman, -Mathers, was vaunting the fifty-six-pound salmon he had caught in the -Sands River, British Columbia. It seemed that not a man in the room -could take to his bed in peace till he had confuted the boaster from -stores of personal experience. Fresh cigars were lit, tumblers were -refilled, and story climbed upon story in unctuous mendacity. - -Muller, the German bagman, bumbled tales of Baltic sturgeon that would -make two bites of the British Columbian salmon if they encountered them -after breakfast time; Morehead, fresh from Florida, smiled superiorly -as he told of one-hundred-and-fifty-pound tarpon, caught with a line -and rod, of the weight of a walking-cane; Rivaz, the creole, asked what -was the matter with a two-hundred-weight tuna that it should score -second place to what was nothing more than a glorified herring? Across -the clouds of smoke romance answered to romance; falsehood was fought -with its own weapons. - -Finally Morehead, abandoning his earliest illustration, harked back to -the land from which it was drawn. Alligators—had any one of them -enjoyed the sport of hanging a looped line over an alligator run, and -opening a manhole through the earth upon their lairs? That was fishing -if you liked, with the odds upon the fish! Till you had joined in the -tug which yanked a fighting saurian ashore you didn’t know what human -muscles could stand—you might go shark-fishing every day of your life, -and miss learning it. - -The suddenness of the topic left him, for the moment, master of the -field. Professional liars, hurriedly reviewing their conversational -equipments, found themselves with no better weapon than an already -over-tempered imagination. None of them had been in Florida—none could -supply the substratum of fact which alone is a true foundation for -convincing fiction. - -Then a new voice shattered the periods of Morehead’s triumph. In the -corner, with one foot banked against the table and the other stretched -across the lounge, sat a long and lanky graybeard, his extended limbs -giving him something of the effect of a pair of human compasses. So far -he had added nothing to the conversation. - -“Say, now, my dear sir,” he drawled plaintively, “you know you have not -got any _real_ alligators in Florida.” - -The young man’s face grew purple. - -“Not got any!” he blared. “Not got any!” - -“Not to call _alligators_!” persisted the veteran complacently. “What, -now, would be your idea of the length, breadth and jaw-capacity of one -of your little pets?” - -The youth drew a calculating breath and eyed his questioner narrowly. - -“I assisted, a short time back, to capture one eighteen feet long,” -he lied coldly. The man on the lounge accepted the statement with a -patronizing little nod. - -“There now!” he agreed. “It just bears out what I say. Nowadays there -aren’t any of a size to _call_ alligators. When _I_ was in Florida, -it might be forty or it might be fifty years ago, that kind of small -fry were reckoned in among the lizards. When we went hunting what the -New York manufacturers call crocodile leather, anything less than four -fathoms from tail-tip to smile we shouldered out of the way. One of -thirty feet, I allow, we considered a circumstance.” - -A murmur rustled up from the assembly. Even the steward’s unconscious -grimace spoke of incredulity. - -“Yes,” continued the old man pleasantly. “I see your eyebrows rise, -but that won’t prevent my assuring you that my recollections don’t -stop there. For over a year I had the personal acquaintance of one -that measured from end to end not a single inch less than twelve slimy -yards. But that,” he allowed generously, “was not in Florida.” - -“Barnum’s Museum?” suggested Morehead contemptuously, and the listeners -grinned. The veteran was not put out. - -“No,” he contradicted, “not even in the United States. Yet, at the same -time, not so far from home. In Cuba—to be explicit.” - -There was a shout of derision. Not less than six of those present had -been volunteers in the war. - -“Cuba!” they bawled in chorus. “There isn’t a crocodile in the island -that would crowd a bathtub!” added Morehead defiantly. - -The graybeard eyed them serenely. - -“Of course,” he said, with a humble note of interrogation, “you’re -posted—you know every inch of the country from Baracoa to Corrientes?” - -Morehead moved a little restlessly. - -“I was three months around Santiago with my regiment,” said he. - -“And spent every spare second examining the creeks, I don’t doubt,” -said the other cheerfully. “My boy,” he went on, “I had been five -years in the country before you began to attend kindergarten. In those -days the fame of the Blique Bayou alligator was known to every soul -within a hundred miles of Guantanama. I don’t mind allowing that the -name of Everett P. Banks—which is what I’m called when I’m at home, -gentlemen—was a good deal in men’s mouths about the same time. We were -much mixed up together, one way or another, that astounding beast and -I.” - -The steward leaned his head upon his palms, and swore gently beneath -his breath. He told himself that this evil old man was about to knock -another half-hour off the night’s rest. He recognized in the gray eyes -a triumphant light—the gleam that illumines the face of the raconteur -whose audience is assured. - -Morehead was still dissatisfied. - -“Blique Bayou?” he repeated superciliously. “Blique Bayou?” - -Banks nodded with an indulgent air. - -“On the map it appears as the San Antonio River,” he explained, “and -it flows into the sea about a mile to the west of the Buena Esperanza -Mining Company’s settlement. As it was notorious that Emil Blique, the -West Indian, owned all the shares, the hill that was topped by the -shafting was called Blique Mountain, and the creek and swamp around it -Blique Bayou. For five years I was manager of the whole outfit. And a -knock-kneed crowd they were,” he added reminiscently. - -Mathers interrupted. It looked as if the narrative were going to jump -the tracks to be wrecked on outside issues. - -“The alligator,” he insisted. “We want the tale of the alligator!” - -The old man stared at him in gentle surprise. - -“You wouldn’t keep a man of my age out of his berth to tell you yarns -thirty years old?” he deprecated. - -“We would,” said Mathers determinedly. “What’s yours?” - -Startled out of his equanimity, the ancient allowed that so far he -had encountered nothing to abash whisky—plain. But as for the story -at that time of night—well, well, they needn’t make all that noise. -If it had to be done he supposed he had better get to it as quickly -as possible. He paused, took a gulp at the tumbler the steward -placed before him, and let a meditative glance dwell upon Morehead, -who had made a motion to rise. Catching his eye, the Floridian -suddenly abandoned his purpose, and sat down in a pose of exasperated -resignation. - -“It was somewhere about ’81—or it might be ’82,” began the old man, -anchoring his gaze mildly upon Morehead’s uncompromising features, -“that I landed at Santiago from Savannah, with a letter in my pocket -from my late employer, George S. Gage, to Señor Emil Blique, Buena -Esperanza; the letter and myself being respectively part answers to -a wild telegram that my boss had received ten days before. The West -Indian had cabled that his manager had died of yellow fever, and that -he was alone with nothing but creole help to drive the congregation of -hard-shell niggers and dagos that he paid to grub manganese from the -bowels of the earth. - -“He wanted a man, he said, with a knowledge of mining and with two -working fists. He laid particular stress upon the second qualification, -and offered such a one three hundred dollars a month to come at the -earliest opportunity. - -“Gage told me that if I’d the spirit of a louse I’d run along and take -it. Otherwise, he said, he’d offer it to Altsheler, the under manager, -who was a wicked man behind a pistol, but with no kind of idea of using -four fingers and a thumb when the gun got lost. That’s a terrible fault -among dagos. They are frightened of a knock-down blow, because they -don’t understand it. But when you start gunning among them—well, they -can gun and knife themselves—some. - -“You mightn’t think it, gentlemen, but in those days I’d a fist like -a ham, and I concluded, after consideration, that the job was built -for my particular talents and not for Altsheler’s. Ten days after that -telegram arrived I was bumping along the trail to Blique Mountain, -wondering just how hard those three hundred dollars would be to collect -at the end of every four weeks. - -“I needn’t have troubled. For a Jamaican, old Emil was as straight a -man as I have ever known. His cheque was good money every time I cashed -it, and, when I’d got the hang of the business, fairly easy earned. -During the first fortnight I filled an eye for two mine hands _per -diem_, and by the end of that time the crowd began to understand just -where their best interest lay. They reasoned it out that they’d have -to do as they were told, and after that things went like clockwork. -When I’d got them really tame, indeed, I found that I could slack off -in the afternoons when old man Blique was moving about himself, and so -I looked around for relaxation. Like all of you, I was something of a -fisherman. - -“Naturally, I turned my steps toward the bayou, and it was there that -I made the acquaintance of Pedro Garsia, Concepcion, his son, and the -other member of the family, as I must call him, for from every point -of view, he was treated like a relation. I allude to my friend Joaquin -el Legardo—Jimmy the Alligator, in the vernacular—and he, I repeat, -was every inch of thirty-six feet long. I dare say he was a hundred and -fifty years old, and he led a more or less blameless existence in the -swamp and stream adjacent to the Garsia bungalow. - -“At first, though, it looked as if our relations might be strained. I’d -got down to the bank, fitted up my rod and cast a speculative lump of -frog’s flesh into the water just to see if anything sizeable was on the -move. No sooner had I made the cast than there was a boil and a rush -’way out in midstream, and an ugly dun snout bobbed above the surface -and took down my bait and half my line before I realized what was -happening. It didn’t take me long to understand. I saw the great jaws -open and champ viciously on the good catgut that was tangled in the -yellow teeth, and I said a wicked word. Also I drew my revolver. Before -I’d got it cocked I heard a terrible uproar from behind. - -“An old man, with silver-white hair hanging over a chocolate-brown -face, was running toward me, shouting as if he’d break a blood vessel. - -“‘No shoot!’ he bawled, ‘no shoot!’ and he waved his arms with some of -the most complete gesticulations I have ever witnessed. I put down my -pistol and waited till he arrived panting. - -“He was too much out of breath to say much at first, but what he did -manage to whisper was to the point. ‘_Bueno legardo_—_bueno_,’ he -repeated, pointing to the brute that was playing cat’s-cradle with my -fishing line, and then, tapping the butt of my revolver, ‘no shoot—no!’ - -“I can tell you I was mystified, for the idea of a _good_ alligator, -as he kept calling it, was outside the pale of my experiences. I told -him so. But he nodded and beckoned and led me down the bank a couple -of hundred yards till we were opposite his house. There I found a rope -stretched between two stumps across the river, with a loop running on -it, and this last was lashed to the bow of a pirogue. - -“‘This mine,’ he explained, smiling. ‘This what you call a ferry.’ I -looked at the boat. Then I remembered that coming up from Santiago the -road had circled widely. Blique Mountain had been in sight a good hour -before we reached it and my driver had made me understand that we were -avoiding the river. This was evidently the short cut for foot travelers. - -“‘If this is the ferry, why in the name of gracious don’t you let -me fill that old pirate with lead?’ I asked, as the brute floated -comfortably by. ‘Not that he’d mind,’ I added, as I realized the size -of him, ‘but you should get a howitzer and pump a six-pound ball -through him. Some day, when your catboat’s full of people, he’ll upset -it and fill his larder for a fortnight.’ - -“The old man smiled agreeably and put his head on one side like a -magpie. He cocked me a comical look out of the corner of his eye. - -‘This river not deep,’ he explained glibly. ‘This what you call ford -one time,’ and he pointed toward the eddies that swirled between us and -the opposite bank. I could see that they were running over shallows -nowhere more than four feet deep. And at that the old chap toddled into -the house and reappeared with a basket load of decaying lizard flesh. -He came close to me and gave me a little nudge. - -“‘Ford one time,’ he repeated, taking a lump of offal and tossing -it into the stream. Then he gave me another nudge, and grinned. -‘Joaquin—’ he drew my attention to the dun snout that came floating -down upon the bait—‘_Joaquin make it ferry!_’ - -“I gave him one look, and he answered me with a grimace that would have -done credit to an idol. Then I sat down and laughed and laughed till I -was sore. The originality of it! The old scoundrel was positively and -actually maintaining his private alligator to put the fear of death -upon the niggers and mulattos that used the short cut into the town, -and was reaping a harvest of ferry dues over a four-foot deep river! - -“He watched me, as I shouted, quite politely, and when I’d had my laugh -out insisted on escorting me into his house and offering me a glass of -aguardiente. While I was sipping it he was rummaging among his litter -and finally produced me a line in the place of the one that Joaquin had -snatched. He insisted on binding it on to my reel, and then, in his -broken English, began to explain just where the best fishing stands -could be found along the banks. And he didn’t stop a-telling. He took -me out when the sun got lower and gave me a few practical hints upon the -spot. He laid himself out to be agreeable, and at the end of a couple -of hours we were as thick as thieves. - -“When we got back to the shanty we found a thick, squat, low-browed -young man smoking a cigarette on the veranda. The old man introduced -him as his son, Concepcion. The youth bowed, smirked and expressed his -sense of the honor in perfect English, yet somehow I didn’t take to him -as I had done to his parent. He had the same magpie way of looking at -you as his father had, but with a difference. The old man did it with -a laugh in his eye: the young one furtively, shiftily and without the -ghost of a smile. - -“It came about that for the next twelve months I was thrown a good deal -into the company of the Garsias. They lived openly on the earnings -of their ferry, but I suspected that they made a little by selling -aguardiente to my dagos and niggers. But they knew when to stop—they -never sent one of my crowd back so’s he couldn’t take his spell the day -after a carouse, and anything short of that I winked at. - -“Old man Blique was not a conversationalist, and the two at the -bungalow were practically my only company for days together. And when -they were out of the way I got into the habit of regarding even Joaquin -as a sort of companion. I got to know his haunts, and where a newcomer -would have seen nothing but an ugly log, half buried in the mud, I -could recognize the upper half of the alligator’s countenance and his -little, straight, slit eyes winking at me most benevolent. - -“And yet he was the one that put an end to all this simplicity and -loving kindness. I don’t know if the fish supply in the river grew -short. Perhaps in his old age he developed epicurean tastes. But nasty -stories suddenly began to come in. Fowls went, pigs were missed and -never heard of again, a couple of steers disappeared from an _estancia_ -higher up the river, and a mare of Emil’s was robbed of her colt and -pervaded the banks of the bayou for weeks, neighing like a lost soul. -Joaquin grew to be the most unpopular personage in the neighborhood. - -“The worst, however, was to come. Red Rambo, the head man of a gang -that worked Number 44 level, and a mulatto went spreeing off to -Santiago one fine evening before a Saint’s Day. The next afternoon, -late, as I was fishing, he appeared on the opposite bank, evidently -full up, calling to Pedro to fetch him and his mates across. The moment -the old man had got the pirogue against the far bank Red Rambo started -to call him every kind of extortioner and money-sucker, and, seeing -that it was from a mulatto to a pure-breed creole, I don’t wonder that -the old man got mad. He refused to take the fellow over—told him to -cool his blood by walking six miles round. - -“Unfortunately Rambo had drunk himself up to the pitch of Dutch -obstinacy and Dutch courage. He came splashing into the river, wading -after the pirogue and cursing Pedro by every saint in the nigger -calendar. - -“Some of the low-down half-castes, who’d believe anything, used to -declare that Joaquin was the familiar spirit of the Garsia family and -was sworn to protect them in this life in return for a note of hand -for their souls in the life to come. I could see some of the men in -the boat just shivering for Red Rambo as they listened to the insults -he was piling upon the old boy, and their shivers were prophetic. For -there came a sudden swirl upon the surface of the calm in midstream, -and then a little grooving eddy shot toward the mulatto with the rush -of a millrace. - -“He yelled, tossed up his arms, and made a half-turn toward the shore. -Through a long instant I could see his finger-tips quiver against the -green of a fern palm opposite. And then he was _gone_—snatched down -from below as suddenly as the pantomime clown drops through the trap -in the boards. A little foaming cone of water burst up from the whirl -where he disappeared, and long, irregular stains floated away from its -crimson centre. But never another sign of Rambo was seen again, either -in the water or out of it. Joaquin was both his murderer and his grave! - -“In justice to poor old Pedro I must allow that he was the man who -took the thing most to heart. He screeched, he gesticulated, he called -down curses upon the alligator from all the angels of paradise, and -he made as if he would leap into the river and fall upon Joaquin with -nothing more than a pocket-knife; in fact, it took all the exertions -of the other niggers to keep him from it. They got him ashore at last -pretty well demented and fighting like a maniac. He had to be tied to -his bed before we durst leave him to himself. When the others had gone -jabbering off home I shook my head solemnly at Concepcion. - -“‘That means the end of Joaquin,’ I said. ‘Tomorrow I shall get orders -from the boss to fill him up with Winchester bullets, and then where’s -your ferry?’ - -“The Spaniard was as pale as milk. He looked away from me to his father -foaming upon the bed, and then he gave a queer little high-pitched -laugh. - -“‘Señor Banks,’ he answered, ‘there may be two sides to that question. -Señor Blique owns the mines, but not the river or the alligator. That -dirt-begotten negro brought his fate upon himself.’ - -“I looked at him narrowly, and noticed that he was ostentatiously and -abnormally calm. That’s a bad sign in a creole. They are safer red and -roaring. Cold and white they’re malicious. - -“‘My dear friend,’ said I politely, ‘there is no law against alligator -shooting. Whatever orders I get I shall obey—be sure of that and take -a friendly warning. Joaquin can’t stay hereabouts after that bloody -exploit—it’s absurd to expect it.’ - -“He bowed quite pleasantly. - -“‘If warnings are in order, señor,’ he replied, ‘take one from me. -The man that kills Joaquin will not live long to boast of it!’ And at -that he drew back the curtain from before the door and gave me a very -significant view of the street. I took the hint and, without another -word, marched out. And I did it sideways, too. You don’t expose the -broad of your back to a man of Concepcion’s singular talents without -making sure that he’s leaving his knife in his belt. - -“Of course, as I predicted, old Emil was not prepared to stand any -nonsense from Pedro Garsia, his son, or Joaquin. Rambo was one of his -best foremen. He gave me the strictest orders to take my gun to the -alligator the first thing in the morning and to revenge the mulatto if -it took all day. I nodded, shrugged my shoulders, and went to bed. - -“The first news brought me in the morning was that old Pedro was -dead. The shock had brought on brain fever, and the son’s homeopathic -treatment of forcing aguardiente down his throat had lifted the fever -to the point of delirium. In the night the patient had burst his bonds -and broken straight for the river. His son and their nigger servant had -been aroused by the noise and had followed. - -“They were just about ten seconds too late. The old man stumbled upon -the bank and went sprawling half in and half out of the water, his -outstretched hand falling upon what the nigger thought was a floating -log. - -“It wasn’t. For the log split into twin jaws, and, as the other two -snatched the poor old fellow up, the open fangs came together just -below the unfortunate wretch’s shoulder. It was only a piece of corpse -that they carried back into the veranda, while Joaquin went smiling off -into midstream to enjoy a most unexpected dessert. - -“I considered, of course, that any son with Christian feelings would -spare me any further trouble in the matter of the alligator’s death. -That, for the sake of commercial advantage, Concepcion would allow -his parent to go unrevenged seemed out of the question. I took my -Winchester with me as I strolled down to the river merely because I -thought he might be too much overcome with grief to have completed his -obvious duty, and that I might do him a neighborly turn by forestalling -him. - -“You can imagine my surprise, then, when I saw, as I turned the corner -of the Garsia bungalow, Concepcion, standing alone upon the river -bank, the usual basket of offal on the ground beside him, tossing the -contents into the water, lump by lump! The alligator was taking them, -serenely and regularly, waiting for them with half-open jaws as a -lapdog waits for biscuits! - -“There are moments when one’s impulses take the reins into their teeth -and bolt. I made no sound—I said nothing. I strode silently up behind -the man, drew a clear bead upon the brute’s eye and sent a bullet plumb -into his wicked brain. And as he ripped out of the water and rolled -over in his agony I fired another cartridge at the junction of his -forearm and body, and that was the end of his floundering. He sank like -a lump of lead. - -“The Spaniard gave a yell as I fired the first time. I brought my rifle -down from the second shot to see him springing straight at me. I pulled -him up short. With the butt at my hip and the muzzle pointing straight -at his chest, I made him understand just what to expect if he came a -step nearer. He halted five yards away—panting. - -“For ten seconds we two stood there, each glaring into the other’s -face, and if the light of hell ever burns in a man’s eyes, I saw it so -burning in the eyes of Concepcion Garsia. His shirt was open at the -neck—I could watch the drumming of his heart within his ribs! - -“And then the tenseness of his limbs gave. He seemed to fall in -upon himself. He just gasped one threatening word—‘_Mañana!_’ -(tomorrow!)—turned upon his heel and staggered off toward his house -like a drunken man! I did not see him again for a fortnight. - -“Of course, after that, the fact that there was a strain of madness in -the Garsia family didn’t seem to me open to doubt. And, pondering the -question, I determined that I must be very much upon my guard whenever -I visited the ferry. My fishing excursions I gave up entirely and I -wore my six-shooter night and day. No—with Concepcion I was taking no -risks. - -“That same evening Joaquin’s carcass floated up upon a sandbank a -hundred yards below the bungalow. The next morning it was gone. The -bush behind the bank was trampled and bloodstained, and the niggers -began to whisper. They told me, in confidence, that the Spaniard had -dug his heart out to make a fetich of and that I was doomed to many -lingering torments. Naturally, I took small notice of that sort of -thing. - -“The hands, now that the ferry had become a ford again, went much -more frequently down to Santiago, and it was not long before I heard -that Concepcion had been seen there. But his bungalow was closed, his -nigger had been sent about his business, and the weeds began to fill -his garden, as weeds do in tropical countries alone. At the end of a -couple of weeks I began to believe that we had seen the last of Señor -Concepcion. - -“And then a thing happened that appeared to be no less than a miracle. -One evening, less than half an hour after a score of the hands had set -out to spend the next day’s fiesta in the town, nineteen of them were -back in my veranda, yelling, screeching that Joaquin was returned—back -and playing his old tricks again! He had risen in the midst of them as -they forded the stream and had taken down Tome, a quadroon pickman, -exactly as he had taken down Red Rambo less than a month before. - -“Of course, I didn’t believe them. I had seen my bullets go home into -Joaquin’s brain and heart and I opined that Tome, for the joke of the -thing, had dived with a bit of a splutter and was probably laughing -himself into convulsions at the success of the trick. I put this view -of the case to the others mildly. - -“They didn’t seem to have breath enough to pour all the contempt they -felt upon the idea. ‘Dived! Joking!’ He was pulled down, screaming, -they declared—they saw the jaws close on him—there wasn’t one of them -five yards from him when he was taken! - -“I shrugged my shoulders, took my rifle and went back with them to the -river bank. You can just figure my astonishment when a dun snout, as -like the late Joaquin’s as one pea is like another, cut a lazy ripple -across the surface as it went sliding out from the bank into midstream! -And the boil of his tail showed up ten yards behind his head. I hadn’t -believed that there was another such alligator in the wide world! - -“These reflections didn’t prevent my rifle-butt coming up to my -shoulder. I aimed for a point three inches behind the snout. We heard -the bullet thud, but the brute didn’t twitch—he didn’t even close his -half-open eye! He just let the water close slowly over his head—so -slowly that I found time to empty my magazine at him as he sank. Every -one of the five bullets hit his wicked head, and the last glanced -off! We knew it by the sound of a second thud among the echoes of the -report, while a splash of splintered wood showed on a branch on the -opposite side of the stream. Positively and actually, this new Joaquin -had a shot-proof skull! - -“The niggers were gabbling excitedly about Ju-ju, and such like -idolatries, while the dagos were little better. As for me, I sat down -upon a stump and took my head in my hands. That two brutes of the same -size should appear in the same unimportant little Cuban creek was -almost unbelievable—to the superstitious imaginations of the mine -hands it could be explained in one way alone. It was debbil-debbil, and -they went off home up the hill, starting out of their skins if a bird -rustled in the bushes. I was left sitting and wondering. - -“At the sound of an opening door some time later I looked up. -Concepcion Garsia came sauntering out of the bungalow. I reached for my -Winchester. - -“He strolled on toward me slowly and complacently, halted a few yards -away and bowed. There was a wicked sneer round his thin lips. - -“‘_Buenos dias, señor_,’ (Good day) he said as he raised his hat. ‘As -you remarked, it is permitted to shoot alligators. That, it appears, -does not always include the killing of them,’ and he laughed—his queer -high-pitched laugh. - -“For the moment I was tongue-tied. The suggestion that an animal whose -brain had been shattered by my bullet was still alive was ridiculous, -but—well, the ‘but’ was to explain this new brute of the same size in -precisely the same spot. I looked Garsia squarely in the eyes. - -“‘Do you mean to imply that Joaquin has come back?’ I asked. - -“He shrugged his shoulders. - -“‘_Quien sabe_—who knows?’ he answered, with that impudent smile still -twisting his lips. ‘What is your own opinion, señor?’ - -“I patted the breech of my rifle. - -“‘It is here,’ I said quietly. ‘Joaquin—or another, I shall continue -the old treatment, _amigo_ (friend). Half an ounce of lead—at frequent -intervals.’ - -“He laughed again jeeringly, and turned upon his heel. - -“‘Continue it, señor, continue it,’ he cried over his shoulder, ‘but -remember that all things come to an end, even your treatment and -perhaps—yourself!’ - -“The next minute he had slammed the door of his bungalow, and I, not -forgetting what an excellent mark for a bullet I was against the yellow -of the tinder-dry bush, hastened to put a tree between myself and the -shuttered window. - -“There is no need to go into details of the next three months. It is -sufficient to say that the alligator began a reign of terror at the -ford. Horses went—goats, steers, poultry. And the river was almost -deserted, for boats were no longer a protection. The planters, who had -been accustomed to use the water for a highway between their -_estancias_, gave it up after no less than five pirogues had been -charged by the monster, and upset. One of the crew always sank, never -to rise again. Strangers using the foot road, and too impatient to wait -for the chance of being ferried when the boat was the wrong side, were -snatched up. Finally the heavy ferry pirogue itself was capsized, and -Manuel, the creole overseer, was lost. With him went, moreover, two -thousand _pesetas_ in cash, which he was bringing up from the bank at -Santiago for pay day. - -“No less than twenty poor wretches went to their account in one way -or another in those twelve weeks, and the countryside grew desperate. -Enough bullets were showered upon the alligator to sink him by pure -weight if they had only stuck in him, but he seemed to mind them no -more than peas! I spent a week’s pay in cartridges myself. - -“Of course, it is all very well to sit here in this smoking-room and -laugh out of court ideas about Ju-ju, fetish work, Whydah and all -those sorts of deviltries. They don’t go with ten-thousand-ton boats, -electric light and the last special edition Marconigram. But it gets -on your nerves if you sit day after day beside a jungle-ringed swamp, -listening to all that a couple of hundred niggers have to tell you -about the tropical powers of the Evil One. And that there was something -mysterious in the business I could swear—something, too, that my -instincts told me Concepcion Garsia held the key to. The sight of his -face the few times I passed him witnessed to that. There was a glint -of triumph in his eye that was simply diabolical. And yet he seldom -showed himself. Passers-by used the ferry pirogue as they liked—the -_centimos_ that his father used to collect he seemed to think no more -about. - -“Well, as Concepcion himself remarked, there is an end to everything, -even to this story, and it fell to my lot to write finis across it. -But it was Providence alone that kept me from being the page and the -Spaniard the writer. It was just this way. - -“I sat, one evening, on the bank not far from the bungalow, reading. -I was keeping an occasional lookout for the alligator, though as the -seasonal floods were just falling he hadn’t been seen for two or three -weeks. I had my revolver in my belt, more by habit than with any hope -of doing him mortal harm with it. Experience had proved that the -heaviest rifle bullets didn’t affect him. Just as I finished a chapter -a voice hailed me from across the stream. - -“I looked up, and recognized Señora Barenna, the wife of the planter -at the _estancia_ behind Blique Mountain. She was waving her hand, and -beckoning to me to bring the pirogue across. - -“I was surprised to see her there, for neither she nor her husband -used the ferry, as the metaled road to Santiago passed close to their -house. But naturally I didn’t wait for explanations at that distance. -I ran down, got into the boat and began to pull hand over hand on the -guide-rope. The señora welcomed me with a smile. - -“‘You may well stare,’ she said, as I gave her my hand to help her down -the bank, ‘to find me in such a situation. I was driving from the town -when our stupid mules took fright at a wild pig that ran between their -feet. They swerved, bolted into the bush, smashed a wheel and there I -found myself, less than three miles from home by the ford, and six by -the road! You may imagine which I chose.’ - -“‘I’m truly sorry for your misfortune,’ said I, ‘but truly glad of the -opportunity of doing you a service,’ for Spanish ladies expect this -sort of thing and I began to collect my ideas for a further succession -of compliments. I never had a chance to frame them, for the pirogue, -which was in midstream again by now, quivered with a tremendous shock. -It was lifted half out of the water! - -“The next instant it began to rock from side to side, broke from the -loop which held it to the guide-rope, and finally upset. The señora -screamed, and both she and I instinctively grasped the strands above -our heads. The boat floated on its side from beneath our feet! - -“She was hanging by her hands alone. I swung up my feet, got a good -purchase by crooking my knee, and so, freeing one arm, hauled her up by -the waist beside me. - -“Fortunately, she was an active woman, and she kept her presence of -mind. I shouted to her to unfasten the shoulder-shawl she wore, and to -fasten it over the rope and around her waist. She had done it in less -time than it takes to tell of it, but as she did it my heart jumped -into my mouth. Our combined weights amounted to more than the rope had -been stayed up to bear. The poles to which it was lashed at each end -slanted. We dipped till, owing to the height of the flood, we swung a -bare six inches above the surface! And, of course, I had a very good -idea of what had upset the boat! - -“I had not to wait long. There was a boil of the eddies not ten yards -away and the familiar dun snout lifted and showed the upper half of -an open jaw. The brute made a bee-line for the bait that hung so -attractively at his mercy. - -“Señora Barenna’s shriek was piercing. As for me—well, I spoke before -of the sudden way in which an impulse masters one. I saw in an instant -that it was a case of two or one, and a sort of frenzy of rage seized -upon me. With a curse I flung myself down upon the brute’s head, -feeling with my thumbs for his eyes, while, released from my weight, -the rope jerked the señora up six feet into safety. - -“The next few seconds were a sort of disconnected nightmare. The water -closed over my head, the great jaws worked beneath my hands, and then a -blow struck me on the chest, exactly over the book that I had placed in -my breast-pocket a minute or two before. - -“At times like those one’s reason is not in the very best working -order, but even then I was quite capable of recognizing that the blow -could not have been dealt by an alligator’s clumsy limbs. And my legs -and feet, too, instead of meeting the resistance of the brute’s back, -were sprawled along nothing more solid than a twenty-foot pole! - -“My hand gripped my revolver from my belt, searched with it aimlessly -downward and sideways, and blundered against what I felt to be a living -body. At the same time the blow was repeated, but not quite in the same -place. The point of an edged weapon slipped across the smooth cover of -the book and gashed into my ribs. At that I pulled the trigger! - -“And many a time since have I thanked Providence for the man that -invented brass-drawn, water-tight cartridges. For as I fired there was -a great bubbling rush from the explosion that rocked me over, while the -huge head below me heaved violently. Like a leaping salmon it burst -with me above the surface! - -“The flood caught us, gripped us, and whirled us away together, to -fling us up upon a shallow bank of mud. And as I struggled to my feet I -looked down upon Concepcion’s dead body, a wound gaping in it from my -bullet, while beside him was stranded a great sheet-iron shell, floated -with leathern bags and surmounted with the stuffed head of old Joaquin! -Behind it stretched a pole ornamented with the tip of the same animal’s -tail! - -“Well, gentlemen, I don’t know that there is much more to add. After -I had climbed along the rope and dragged Señora Barenna into safety -I kicked open the door of the bungalow and left her there, while I -hurried up to the works for help. But before I sent old Emil and his -housekeeper down with cordials, and so forth, I got the old man’s -permission to knock the hands off at once. I had my reasons. - -“I lined those superstitious fools along the mud-bank before that sham -scaffolding of an alligator, and the sermon I preached them on the -follies of Ju-ju ought to have converted them then and there. But the -results were entirely contrary to my expectations. For when, some years -later, after I had left old Emil, I returned for a short visit to the -Barennas, who were always my grateful friends, I found Joaquin’s head -hung in their veranda. - -“A servant who did not know me saw me looking at it. - -“‘That American debbil-debbil,’ he explained politely, and pointed -to the little brass plate his master had had stuck upon it with an -inscription setting forth that I had shot the brute on such and such a -date. ‘Him name _Banks_,’ he added, ‘and great big Ju-ju. Nigger boy -say prayers to him ebry night!’” - - - - - _The Boy; His Hand and Pen_ - - - BY TOM P. MORGAN - -My Aunt Almira, who is an old maid, says that spring is the time when -the young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love; but my Uncle -Bill, who has been a bachelor so long that it’s chronic with him, -says that ’most every spring he gets as bilious as a goat. That’s the -way it goes; women are romantic and are everlastingly thinking about -their hearts and souls, while men are generally more concerned about -their stomachs and pocketbooks. You give a man enough to eat and a few -dollars to squander and he’ll manage to scuffle along, but a woman -won’t be happy unless she’s worrying about love, or something. - -Uncle Bill once knew an old maid who lived in constant dread of finding -a man under the bed. She kept on hopefully fearing him for thirty-seven -years, and early in the thirty-eighth she was drowned. One time there -was a Brighamyoungamist who married twenty-three different women in -rapid succession, and he looked a good deal like the last end of a -hard winter, too. Well, the judge threw up his hands in astonishment, -and asked him how in all-git-out a man would go to work to marry -twenty-three women. And the Brighamyoungamist grinned and replied: - -“Aw—tee! hee!—Judge, I just asked ’em!” - -But, on the other hand, spring is the time when your neighbor -borrows your lawn-mower and keeps it till he is ready to borrow your -snow-shovel. In the spring all Nature seems to smile, especially in -the Third Reader, and the little flowers go gaily skipping over hill -and dale. The grass pops up, the boys begin fighting regularly, the -birds warble all the day long in the leafy boughs, and the book-agent -comes hurriedly up the road with a zealous but firm dog appended to his -pants. About this time you feel achy and itchy and stretchy and gappy, -and so forth, all of which is a sign that you’ve got the spring fever. -Some men have the spring fever all the year round. Then they join all -the lodges they can squeeze into, and owe everybody, and talk about the -workingman needing his beer on Sunday. - -This is all I know about spring, and most of it is what Uncle Bill told -me. - - - - - _Old Saws Filed New_ - - -“Vice is contagious”—and so few of us have been vaccinated! - -“A man must keep his mouth open a long time before a roast pigeon flies -into it”—but the chances are worse if he keeps it shut. - -“Associate with men of good judgment”—if their good judgment will -permit. - -“Duty is a power which rises with us in the morning and goes to rest -with us in the evening”—or even earlier in the day. - - - - - _The Force of Circumstance_ - - - BY CHAUNCEY C. HOTCHKISS - -They came up to me, he and his daughter, as I was sitting on the -half-deserted piazza of the hotel. His soft felt hat had been replaced -by a tall one, and there was no suggestion of his former outing costume -in the stiff linen and conventionally cut clothing he wore. His -daughter stood by his side, her hand within his arm, a little impatient -pout on her lips and a petulant wrinkle on her fine brows, as fair a -specimen of the typical American girl, in beauty of face and form and -taste in dress, as one could find or wish for. - -“Ah, Alan, my boy!” said he heartily. “I’m off—quite suddenly. Some -plaguy business in town, you know. Sorry, but can’t help it! Wish you -were going along! Will be back tomorrow night—I think.” And here he -gave me a decided wink with the eye farthest from his daughter. The -girl twisted him about to see his face, as though suspicious of his -honesty. - -“Why must you go, papa? And why won’t you take me? Aunt Margaret and -her rheumatism are poor company!” - -“No, no, little woman—not this time! Force of circumstances, you know. -Mustn’t leave your aunt alone—not for the world! Have many things to -see to in town. How’s your arm, Alan? Better? That’s good! There’s the -stage, by Jove! Keep her out of mischief, my boy. Kiss your dad, puss. -Good-bye, Alan!” - -As I looked at this fine specimen of metropolitan growth while he -clambered into the ramshackle stage that ran to the station, I felt -pretty sure that his conscience was not quite easy in thus hurrying to -town and leaving his daughter to her own devices. That the easy-going, -retired lawyer, whose hardest work consisted in killing time, had no -such pressing matters on hand as he had intimated, I was certain, and -had small doubt that visions of the stock-ticker, cool cocktails and -club cronies were the “plaguy business” which demanded his attention. -Nor did I blame him, for had it not been for the young girl who was now -looking blankly at the rapidly retreating vehicle my own place at the -table of the hotel would have been vacated days before. - -A broken arm just cut of its sling and still almost useless was -my ostensible reason for lingering. It served me as an excuse -for protracting the pleasures of the broad Sound and stunted but -picturesque woods, though it did not blind me to the fact that I was -playing with fire by remaining. I was not born with a great deal -of conceit and am too well acquainted with the times to have faith -in the infallibility of love as a leveling power when applied to -cash considerations. In finances the girl was an aristocrat and I a -plebeian. My meditations were to myself, but the young lady gave vent -to hers. - -“Very good, sir! I’ll pay you well for this,” she said, shaking her -finger in the direction of the vanished stage. “You wouldn’t take me -with you! Well, you’ll wish you had!” Then she turned to me. “Why did -he go, Mr. Alan?” - -“I’m sure I don’t know. Force of circumstances, he said.” - -“Force of fiddlesticks! He _always_ gives that as an excuse when he -does anything I dislike. I don’t believe in the force of circumstances. -Do you?” - -“Most assuredly,” I returned. - -“Well, I don’t, then. I’m a free agent. You and papa might as well -confess to fatalism. I would like to see circumstances force me!” - -“I might weave a story showing the contrary. You have just seen——” - -“Oh, that and your story would prove nothing,” she interrupted, with a -charming lack of logic. “A truce to nonsense—it’s too hot. Look at me, -sir!” she commanded, with mock severity. “Papa has practically thrown -me on your hands without regard to my opinion in the matter, as though -I were a small child. Aunt Margaret has a mild spell of rheumatism and -the religious mood that always seems to go with it. I understand that -you are responsible for me; how dare you assume the burden?” - -“I accept, however,” I replied, with secret warmth. - -“You will probably live to repent it. What shall we do?” - -“Anything you elect. I am under your orders.” - -“Then see that you obey them. The woods are too wet for a walk since -last night’s storm, and as for staying about here after being cooped up -two whole days by rain, it is intolerable. Let’s try to get Maxwell to -take us out on his fishing-sloop. He will do it for you.” - -“No,” I said firmly. “That is the one thing your father prohibits. -It is mere nervousness, of course, but I will not be a party to such -a thing. Think of something else—the force of circumstance is still -against you.” - -“Plague take the force of circumstance!” she exclaimed, but did not -urge me further, though my suspicions should have been aroused when she -said: - -“We will take lunch and go to the beach anyway. Shall we?” - -“Well, you might do that without breaking the fifth commandment,” -I returned, with much less enthusiasm than I felt at the idea of a -tête-à-tête picnic with her. - -Her answer was a light laugh. There was a swishing of skirts and a -twinkle of tan-colored shoes as she sped from the piazza to get ready, -leaving me with the certainty that I was a fool, or worse, for allowing -her to go unchaperoned, though I was too selfish to attempt to right -the neglect. - -Something over an hour later a scraggy horse hitched to a scraggy wagon -was drawing us to the “Cove,” a mile or so distant from the hotel. A -well-packed hamper had been provided and the pace set for the day was -nothing less innocent than lunch on the beach, which at this quarter -of Long Island is a stretch of snow-white sand and the perfection of -isolation. - -It was not with feelings of positive delight that, as we neared the -Sound, I noticed the _Flying Fish_, of which Maxwell was master, moored -at the edge of the expanse of blue water. From an artistic point it -might have satisfied me, as fine material for an _aquarelle_ as, with -its mainsail loosely hoisted for drying, it lay against the strip of -woods on the other side of the little bay, but it did not satisfy me -to have a controversy on the point of taking my companion for a sail, -a thing to which I knew her father to be strongly opposed. However, it -was not a lengthy skirmish. - -“Will you ask Maxwell to take us out—for just an hour?” she asked -demurely. - -“Not for one instant,” I replied. “Besides, there is no wind.” - -“There will be wind enough; you are just determined to be meanly -perverse. _I_ will ask him!” And she sent her clear voice across the -water in a long-drawn call. - -I saw the man on board look up from the work he was fussing over; -presently the sail was lowered and, shortly after, the punt drove its -nose into the sand of the beach and Maxwell came toward us. - -“Miss Edith,” I said, with dignity and as much severity as I dared show -her, “I am well aware that I have no right to dictate to you, but if -you are determined to go sailing in spite of your father’s wishes you -will go without me.” - -“Do you really mean it?” she asked, with a light laugh and a wicked -glint in her eyes. “What a goose you are! Of course I wouldn’t go, but -we can compromise. Let’s go out to her and lunch on board. It will be -ever so much nicer than the sand, and I have never even stepped on -board of a sloop. Can’t we go out to her, Mr. Maxwell?” - -“Sartin, miss, but it’s lucky that’s all ye want,” said that worthy. -Then, turning to me, he continued: - -“The old tub’s ’most used up, Mr. Alan. She broke up a good deal of -her riggin’ in the storm last night. That ain’t all, neither. I find -the anchor shackle most rusted out and the moorin’ line ’most chafed -through. I was just startin’ for a new shackle. Tell you what ye might -do, sir, an’ ’twould be a big favor. Let me put you two aboard and then -take your hoss to go to the Centre with. That will suit the lady an’ be -a savin’ to my legs. I will be back in a shake.” - -“Where’s your deck-hand?” I asked, wavering in my determination. - -“Gone home sick, sir. Last night used him up.” - -Doubts of propriety and prudence were of little avail against the -coaxing demands of my companion. She was used to having her way in -most things. Nothing but the novelty of taking lunch on board the old -fishing-boat would satisfy her, and, as it would not do for me to carry -the air of protector too far, it was but a short time before we were -on the deck of the vessel, from which we watched Maxwell climb into -the wagon and start for the village. The lady’s expression was one of -subdued triumph. - -I confess that as I saw the little boat pulled high on the beach and -realized how completely we were cut off from the land, I was conscious -of a feeling that was not one of unalloyed content. From the physical -conditions there seemed to be nothing to fear. The water of the Cove -was like glass in the hot sunshine, and the vessel as steady as the -Rock of Ages; but the situation would certainly become compromising to -the fair young girl if our isolation should be generally known, and, -though I was willing enough to shoot at folly as it flew, I was in -hopes that the absence of Maxwell would not be prolonged, and so set to -work to entertain and enlighten Miss Edith, who was a very child in her -curiosity and her demands to have it satisfied. - -The _Flying Fish_, a fearful misnomer, was an old acquaintance of -mine, and was typical of her class. Clean enough on deck, she was an -abomination of vile smells below, the combination of fish, clams and -bilge-water making a forcible compound. The inevitable scuttle-butt -of fresh water stood before the mast, and forward was a mass of rusty -chain cable, tangled gear, mops, winch-handles, buckets and the anchor, -the latter secured with a piece of rope. - -In the stern of the boat the conditions were improved. The long tiller -projected into the roomy cockpit, the seats of which were as clean as -water could make them, while overhead the broken boom with its loose -sail made a wide strip of shade that was very acceptable. - -For me there was no novelty in the craft, but it was a monstrous toy -for my companion, who flitted from stem to stern, picking up her dainty -skirts as she explored the bow, or wrinkling her delicate nose as she -met the odor of the cabin she insisted on entering. - -“Does Maxwell cook on that thing?” asked the girl, pointing to the -small stove red with old rust, “and sleep in one of those dirty boxes?” - -“Undoubtedly. That is a sailor’s lot.” - -“Horrors! I wouldn’t be a sailor for the world! Let’s get into the -air—I’m stifled!” - -An hour passed quickly enough and without the return of Maxwell. The -lunch was spread and eaten in the strip of shade, which took another -hour. A slight restraint followed the smoking of my cigar, for our -conversation was becoming as circumscribed as our freedom, probably due -to the fact that we both began to realize we were prisoners. At best -there is no exhilaration of spirits to be found on the hot deck of a -dilapidated fishing-sloop at anchor, and I dreaded the dulness which -would ensue if our confinement became protracted beyond a certain point. - -But we were not destined to be beset by stupidity through lack -of events. Two hours, three hours passed and yet no Maxwell. The -conversation waned like a slowly dying blaze. I was becoming desperate -and Miss Edith was beginning to question me with her eyes, when I saw -matters were to be made worse by a thunderstorm which showed its black -head over the woods to the southwest. Was Maxwell crazy? What could -he be thinking of to leave us in this predicament? Again and again I -searched the opening into the woods through which the horse and wagon -had disappeared, but the shore remained as wild and deserted as when -Columbus discovered America. The little boat lay temptingly on the sand -five hundred feet away, but it might as well have been as many miles, -for my broken arm made swimming impossible. - -From being slightly compromising our situation had become fully so—and -more; it was irksome, awkward and not at all heroic. It was evident -from her manner that the girl was becoming fully alive to her position. - -Rapidly the clouds approached the zenith. They were terribly sinister, -and, though there appeared to be no more danger to us than the remote -chance of being struck by lightning, I dreaded for Miss Edith the -closer imprisonment in the unwholesome cabin and a probable drenching -in the end. - -Even should Maxwell now arrive it would be impossible to return to the -hotel before the storm broke, and as the sun became suddenly quenched -by the sulphur-colored mass that had risen to it, and a sickly green -shade settled over us, I turned my attention to cheering my companion, -who, awed by the tragic light that overspread us, seemed lost in -fearful contemplation of the approaching tempest, and sat silent in the -cockpit with both hands tightly clutching the tiller. The tide was full -flood and not a wrinkle marred the polished surface of the Sound. In -the distance were some motionless vessels taking in their lighter sails -and over all nature there brooded a portentous quiet. - -It was evident that we were about to experience something out of -the common, for though the edge of the squall had no more than the -usual threat of a summer shower, the clouds behind it sent through -me a thrill of awe mingled with fear. As I stood with my hands on -the shrouds watching a space of inky blackness it opened and from it -descended a bulb of vapor shaped like a bowl, its edges hidden in the -clouds above. It was a mass lighter than the rest, and it elongated -until its form changed to a funnel-shaped pipe which gradually neared -the surface of the earth, trailing as it moved along. Its approach was -accompanied with a roar as of a distant cataract, and as I saw the -sinuous tube lose itself in a mist of dust, flying branches and heavier -debris and appear to be coming toward us, a fearful knowledge of what -we were about to encounter burst upon my mind and I turned quickly to -the girl, who in her fright had risen to her feet. - -“What is it?” she cried, blanching at the sight of the awful column. - -“A tornado! Into the cabin, quick!” I shouted. - -She obeyed without a word, and I had barely time to snatch up the -basket containing the remains of our lunch and scramble through the -door after her when, with a howl it is impossible to describe, the -vortex of whirling air was upon us. - -The darkness that came down like a curtain was appalling; the din -deafening. The centre of the tornado must have missed us, else I -would not now be telling this tale, but the sight through the open -doors, which I had not had time to close, showed it had missed us but -narrowly. I saw the surface of the Cove turn to milk under the lash -of the wind, but had scant time to see more, for, as we were lying -broadside to the blast, it struck us fairly on the side and careened us -until the deck stood wellnigh up and down. - -With a shriek the girl threw herself into my arms, and we both slid -to leeward. There came a jar as though we had been struck, a crash -overhead that sent the skylight shivering in fragments about us, a -quick blast of icy air, and the vessel righted with a jerk. - -Placing the fainting girl on a locker I ran up the steps to the deck. -The whirlwind was passing out into the Sound, its shape hidden by the -muck that flew in its wake, though a well-defined path of fallen trees -and boiling water marked its track. A moment’s observation showed its -outskirts had created havoc aboard the sloop. - -The mainsail, having been only held in stops, had been blown open by -the fearful power of the wind and, split into ribbons, was whipping in -the gale with quick, pistol-like reports. The boom-jack had been torn -away and the broken spar fallen on the cabin-house, which accounted -for the smashed skylight. The topsail had clean gone, hardly a rag -remaining. The buckets and all loose articles had been blown overboard; -the scuttle-butt had fetched away and lay bung down, its contents -gurgling out through the vent, while the only things outside the hull -that remained intact were the jib-sail and its gearing. - -I had hardly made the last observation when I discovered we were -adrift! The first fierce tug of the wind had snapped our moorings, -which Maxwell had spoken of as chafed, and, under the weight of the -gale which was blowing, we were rapidly drawing into open water. - -I caught my breath for a moment, but was immediately relieved as I -thought of the anchor. Throwing off my coat I tossed it into the cabin, -and, opening my pocket-knife, ran forward; but before I could reach -the bow I was drenched by a sudden downpour of rain the volume and icy -coldness of which made me gasp. It took but a second to cut the -lashings that held the anchor, but, as the iron plunged to the bottom -followed by only some half-fathom of chain, I nearly fainted. The -shackle lay at my feet with its pin gone. The anchor was lost—the -mooring parted; we were adrift in a storm and on a crippled boat. - -For a moment I was completely stunned at the realization and stood -looking over the side like a fool, as though expecting to see the mass -of lost iron float to the surface; but the violent beating of the rain, -now mixed with hail, forced sense into me and compelled a hasty retreat -to the cabin. - -So far as danger to life was concerned there was none at present, and -the one menace of the future lay in being blown across the Sound and -going to pieces on the rocky coast of Connecticut. I was something of a -fair-weather yachtsman and knew the danger of a lee shore; but whether -my wit would be sufficient to offset the predicament we were in I was -by no means sure. For a rescue I trusted more to being picked up by -some passing craft than to my own efforts. But what a situation for the -lady! - -How to enlighten her as to our double disaster was troubling me not a -little as I entered the cabin, but I had barely cleared the steps when -we were beset by a volley of hail that thundered on the cabin-house and -rivaled the uproar of the tornado itself. Great icy lumps larger than -marbles drove through the broken skylight and bounded through the open -door. The hail was followed by another downpour of rain accompanied by -vivid lightning and bellowing thunder. Between the flashes the darkness -was that of midnight. - -Knowing the terror of my companion I attempted to speak to her, but my -voice was lost in the turmoil. Striking a match I lighted the small -lamp hanging against the bulkhead and found the girl had recovered from -her faint and was sitting on the locker with her face buried in her -hands. At that moment the sky lightened a trifle and the thunder rolled -more at a distance. Shaken as I was, I little wondered at the -convulsive shudders that swept over her slight frame; had I been alone -I might have succumbed to panic. Presently she looked up at me; her -face was like chalk, but I was thankful to see that she had not lost -control of herself. - -“Oh, wasn’t it awful!” she exclaimed, and was about to rise when she -caught sight of my streaming clothing. “Why did you go out? What have -you been doing? Have you seen Maxwell?” - -“Maxwell? No, but I have seen enough else,” I returned, determined to -hide nothing. - -“What do you mean? What has happened?” - -“I mean that we have met with disaster. We are adrift.” - -“Adrift!” Her eyes widened with sudden terror. - -“We have been torn from our moorings,” I answered, with an attempt at -ease that I might not increase her panic. “But there is no present -danger.” - -“I—I do not understand,” she said weakly. - -“I have made a mistake, which makes it worse,” I continued desperately. -“I have cut away the anchor but lost it—the shackle-pin was gone. We -must——” - -“But you _knew_ the shackle-pin—or something—was gone! I heard -Maxwell tell you!” she interrupted, with a flash of temper in her eye -that took the place of fear. - -“I remembered when too late,” I returned meekly. “In the confusion -it went from my mind. When I found we had broken from the mooring I -naturally turned to the anchor and cut it free. Will you—can you -forgive me? I will make what reparation I may.” - -For an answer she dropped limply on the locker, and, again burying her -face in her hands, sobbed violently while I stood silent, not knowing -how to comfort her, though my brain was busy enough. Presently the -paroxysm passed and she looked up with a changed expression; then, -heedless of her dainty costume, she approached me and placed both hands -on my wringing sleeve. - -“Oh, it is for you to forgive me!” she said, the tears still in her -eyes. “It is all my fault! If I had only heeded you in the beginning! -And I am such a cowardly girl; but I’ll try to be brave and not make it -worse. What must we do?” And a divine smile brightened her woebegone -face. - -“I will tell you all I fear,” I said, mightily relieved at her changed -attitude. “With the wind from its present quarter it is impossible to -return to the Cove, and to continue drifting is dangerous. Stratford -Shoal lies directly in our way, and unless some other direction can be -given the vessel we are certain to be wrecked upon it. Listen quietly,” -I added, as I saw fright come again to her eyes. “I think I can avert -that danger. It may appear strange and hard to you, but it is necessary -that we run _from_ home instead of toward it. Will you trust me -entirely?” - -“Oh, yes! I must—I will.” - -“Then excuse me for a time; I have work to do.” - -“And am I to sit still and do nothing?” - -“You may make a fire, if you will; we will need it. This may be an -all-night matter.” - -She shrank visibly, but made no reply, and, not daring to lose more -time, I abruptly left her. - -All I had told her was true. The afternoon had waned and the storm -would cause the September day to darken early. The gale, yet strong -from the southwest, was carrying us with considerable rapidity toward -the well-known shoal that lies in the centre of the Sound—a line of -black teeth marked by a lighthouse, and a deadly thing to have close -to leeward. There was but one action for me to take, and that to set -the jib and under this single sail run to the eastward until we had the -fortune to be picked up by some passing craft. - -By this we had drawn so far into open water that the seas, which were -rapidly rising, had a jump to them, making it a matter of some risk for -me to crawl out on the foot-ropes of the bowsprit and throw off the -ropes that confined the jib; for it must be remembered that my left -arm was almost useless. It was an infinite labor for me to get the wet -canvas aloft, but I finally set the sail after a fashion. Loosening the -sheet until the great spread of cotton blew out like a balloon, I took -the tiller and put the helm hard a-port. - -There was life in the old tub at once. She had been wallowing heavily -in the trough of the sea, but now we ran across the waves, and the -change of motion was a relief. The rain had ceased by this time, but -the sky was of an even blackness or the color of the smoke now pouring -from the funnel of the cabin stove. As the gloom of evening fell the -shore lights twinkled coldly across the water. No vessel came near -enough to be hailed, and, as there is nothing distinctively distressing -in the appearance of a fishing-smack running before the wind under her -jib, I saw it would be foolish to expect a rescue before daylight, save -by the merest chance of being passed close at hand. - -The gale was decreasing rapidly, but it was getting cold—bitter cold -to me in my wet state. Not daring to leave the helm I called to Miss -Edith to hand up my coat, but she appeared on deck with it. Her face -was hot and flushed, her head bare, and the wind caught her disordered -hair and blew it about her eyes. - -“Why, you poor fellow!” she exclaimed as the cold air struck her. “You -must not do this! Let me take your place while you go down and get warm -and dry.” - -“You are a ministering angel,” I returned through my chattering teeth, -“but unfortunately you can’t steer. However, if you will watch here -I will go down and wring myself out. I can lash the tiller. Do you -realize our situation?” - -“I—I believe so,” she faltered. “I did not even tell Aunt Margaret we -were going anywhere. It is too awful to think of—I dare not think—I -try not to. This is——” - -“The force of circumstance,” I interrupted, with an attempt at levity -as I proceeded to fasten the helm. “A force you denied only a few hours -ago.” - -“And do now!” she said, with some spirit, catching back her blowing -hair with her hand. “It was the desire to make you do something against -your will. It was pure foolishness. Don’t argue now. Do something for -yourself; you will find that I have been neither idle nor useless.” - -I was surprised at the change she had wrought in the cabin. On a -locker was spread the remains of our lunch; the bunks had been put in -some kind of order, the floor wiped up, and the indefinable air of -femininity she had given to the dingy hole was accentuated by the gay -color of her little hat, which hung against the blackened bulkhead. -Rank as it was, the warm atmosphere was a welcome change from that -of the deck, and through it floated the odor of coffee. A pot was -simmering on the stove, the grate of which was all aglow. - -While wondering how she had brought herself to forage through the -repulsive mess below and where she had obtained fresh water, I emptied -two cups of the scalding beverage and, after stripping myself of my wet -clothing, was in a mood to have enjoyed the adventure had it not been -for my anxiety for the future. By overhauling a bunk I found an old -pair of trousers and an oil-coat, both smelling villainously of fish, -and putting them on, wrapped a grimy blanket about me and returned to -the deck. - -Even during my short absence the wind had fallen decidedly, but the -young lady was shivering in her summer dress as she sat looking -over the blank water at the distant shore, and I could see that the -loneliness filled her with an awe I well understood. She laughed a -little as she noticed the figure I cut, but her chattering teeth belied -her forced spirits. - -“You are freezing, Miss Edith. Go down and drink a cup of your own -coffee. Where did you get fresh water? The scuttle-butt was wrecked -with the rest.” - -“I melted hail-stones—there were plenty of them. Don’t you see I am -superior to mere circumstance? You must go down, too; you must rest and -keep warm.” - -“I must do my resting here,” I replied, cutting the helm lashing. - -“What! All night?” - -I laughed at her simplicity. “I could not guarantee you a -tomorrow—certainly not a rescue, if I stayed in the cabin.” - -“Then I will watch, too.” - -“It is far too cold—and—and I am afraid you are forgetting the -proprieties,” I answered lightly. “I have much to think about.” - -I believe she suspected what was in my mind, for she asked soberly: - -“Were—were you referring to—to me?” - -“Could it be otherwise? And I was thinking of poor Maxwell and his -probable loss,” I answered, in an attempt to shift the subject I was -not yet ready to discuss. - -She drew herself up with sudden hauteur. “Mr. Maxwell’s loss—probable -or otherwise—shall be made more than good to him. As for me, I am -still above the circumstance that has brought us to this state,” she -answered, and, turning quickly, went below. - -It was a rebuke, and I saw that I might better have taken her into my -confidence then and there, for Maxwell’s loss had had little weight -with me. It was her loss and possibly my own. Though her position in -society was too well assured for her to suffer in character through -an adventure of the sort we were experiencing, there would be many -who would talk behind their hands. When the facts were known—as they -were bound to be—advantage would be taken of the opportunity to cast -reflections and give the smile incredulous to any explanation. A young -man and a young woman adrift for an indefinite number of hours in the -night after having deliberately cut off communication with the shore -would be a tempting morsel for scandalmongers. And what then? - -It was just that “what,” and another, which were bothering me. My -love for the girl was as pure as man’s love could be, yet after this -what could I be to her? Must I cease to be even a friend? Was I to be -sacrificed on the altar of circumstance, the force of which I asserted -as strongly as she denied? I sat at the helm and turned my thoughts -inward until the stars came out from behind the scattering clouds, and -the wind, grown colder, fell to a force that barely filled the jib. I -looked at my watch—it was past eleven. I was becoming faint for want -of food, and, as the wind was now harmless, I dropped the helm and went -below. - -The fire was almost out and the oil in the lamp so low that it added -another smell to the cabin. The girl lay on the hard locker fast -asleep, and I could see that she had been weeping. For a time I gazed -at her eagerly, then taking some food with me, stole back to my dreary -watch. As the hours waned so did my spirits. I may have dozed, but -about two o’clock the girl’s ghostly white dress appeared in the -companionway and she stepped out on deck. She looked around at the -darkness for a moment, then came and seated herself by my side. - -“You have had an uncomfortable nap, I fear,” I said as I saw her -dispirited face. - -“Yes,” wearily, “but how did you know?” - -“I went below and saw you. I am very sorry for you, Miss Edith.” - -“You saw I had been crying. I am more than sorry to have exposed my -weakness to you. I was lonely and—and you did not wish me here. Is it -so very wrong?” - -“I was only thinking of your comfort.” - -“Did you imagine it greater down there? And you said you were thinking -of the proprieties and—and Maxwell.” - -“Of Maxwell—incidentally only.” - -She made no answer to this. I had hoped she would, for now I was as -ready to talk of our peculiar situation as before I had been unwilling. -But the small hours of the morning are not conducive to discussion. -The girl was fagged out and silent in consequence. Once or twice she -nodded, but refused to go below, though I urged her to get out of the -cold. I finally prevailed on her to put on my coat, and then we sat in -silence. But Nature asserted herself at last, and she unconsciously but -gradually drooped toward me until her head touched my shoulder, and -there it settled. I brought half of the blanket about her and passed my -arm around her waist that she might not pitch forward to the deck. - -And in this fashion we remained, I with the tiller in the hollow of -my left arm, and she in a heavy slumber, her face close to mine. I -sat thus, immovable, until I was as sore and uncomfortable as though -in bonds, but I may as well confess that I felt repaid for all I had -undergone and was then undergoing through my self-enforced rigidity. -I lost all sense of drowsiness and was never more wide awake in my -life than when I determined to take advantage of the cursed force of -circumstance and keep her by me as a right. I would use the argument -placed in my power, which argument was the force of circumstance -itself. I had been a coward long enough. - -The time went easily. The girl slept as quietly as a child, oblivious -of all the world. My own mind undoubtedly strayed from purely practical -matters, but I was suddenly brought to my senses by the sight of a -red and a green light, topped by a white one, bearing directly down -upon us. The vessel with the night signals was almost into us before I -realized its approach. If the pilot of the oncoming tug—for as such I -recognized her—had been no more attentive than I, we should be a wreck -in less than thirty seconds, and with no blame to him, as we carried no -light. Rudely awakening the girl I put the helm up and shouted with all -my power. - -The black mass forged on until within two lengths of us. I heard the -powerful throbbing of her engine, the tearing hiss and splash from her -cut-water, and the churning of the propeller. In an instant more I -would hear the crashing of timbers, but as I strained my eyes on the -oncoming boat and threw my arm around the girl, ready for the worst, I -saw the shadow of a man as he ran from the engine-room to the wheel, -and then the tug suddenly swerved and passed us so close that I could -have touched her rail! In an instant she had slid by and then I leaped -up and shouted like one possessed: - -“Come to! Come to, for God’s sake! We are in distress!” - -There was a hoarse answer and the vessel sank into the darkness. I -thought we were to be abandoned and for an instant felt all the deep -hopelessness of a shipwrecked mariner in mid-ocean as he marks the loss -of a possible rescue. But presently I saw the green starboard light -reappear and knew, when the red light joined it, they were working to -return to us. There was the clang of a gong, a quick churning of the -reversed wheel, and the tug slowed up close at hand, keeping way gently -until it bumped against the sloop and a man leaped from its deck to -ours. - -“What’s the row here?” he asked. - -“We are crippled and adrift,” I answered. “I am no sailor, and there is -a lady aboard.” - -The girl stood at my side as the man listened to my story, the -lividness of dawn in the east just touching his coarse face. His little -eyes shifted from her to me incessantly, and when I had finished he -gave an irritating laugh, for which I could have knocked him down with -a good grace. - -“Blowed away, hey!” he said, expectorating over the rail and wiping -his mouth with the back of his hand. “D’ye mean ye hadn’t sense enough -to know when a cable’s bent an’ when it’s _on_bent? Wall, ’tain’t no -business o’ mine. Want to get aboard o’ us, hey? Yer green, fer a fact, -an’ I’ll be frank with ye. If ye leaves the sloop she’ll be derelict, -an’ I can pull her in an’ claim salvage. That’s the law. Course I’ll -take ye aboard if ye want, but ye had better bide here an’ give me a -hundred dollars fer a tow to New Haven. I got a date there an’ can’t do -better fer ye.” - -“Where are we now?” I asked. - -“Sum’ers off the Thimbles.” - -I well knew that I was being taken advantage of, but a slight pressure -on my arm from the hand of Miss Edith told me it was no time for -bargaining, so, after a deal of backing and going ahead, we found -ourselves under way behind the tug, I still at the helm to prove that -the sloop had not been deserted. - -Safe thus far I felt relieved, but, the first difficulty passed, the -remaining and greater phase of the situation reasserted itself. For -a long time neither the girl nor I spoke, and I fancied her face was -more deeply anxious in its expression than I had yet seen it. The light -broadened; the shore showed faintly against a clear sky, and the stars -grew pale and disappeared. Probably two hours more would get us into -harbor, and the subject of our adventure and our probable reception -home, even a plan for future movements, had not been touched upon. -Something must be said, but in my intense interest my brain went all -adrift and my intended delicacy was lost in my first blundering speech. - -“You are looking tired, Miss Edith, but your last sleep was more -restful than your first.” - -It was man-like stupidity. Her face flushed hotly as she turned it -away, but presently she looked at me and said: - -“It has all been like a terrible dream, now that we are out of danger. -It seems days since we left the hotel, and—and—oh! what will papa -say—and Aunt Margaret? What will people think?” And she covered her -face with her hands. - -“The last is not a knotty problem,” I replied gently, though I could -not spare her distress. “We will not be overburdened with Christ-like -charity, and the result may be hard for you to bear.” - -“What do you mean?” she asked, dropping her hands. - -“Do you not see?” said I, as with my heart beating rapidly I went -boldly to meet my fate. “Do you know so little of the world—of the -venom of it? We have done an innocent thing, but, forgive me, will -people believe it? Your father will be fiercely angry, society will be -skeptical, and—and I would protect you from all scandal; I would bear -your father’s anger for you.” - -She was rosy now and her lips were half apart, but she did not answer. - -“I know I am taking an undue advantage by making such a proposal here, -but it is the old force of circumstances which permits me. There is but -one way, Edith. Give me the right I would have—the right to protect -you! Does not your heart understand my meaning? We could then face the -world together and not care. No, that is not all,” I continued as I saw -she was about to speak. “God knows that affection lacks proper words -to express it! I have been so fearful—that is why I have been dumb so -long! To me the gale has been a godsend, not a misfortune. Edith, must -I be wrecked at last?” - -She had turned away her face, but now she looked at me, not in anger -nor amazement. As she fixed her beautiful eyes on mine I saw the tears -come into them and overflow, but she made no answer. - -“Have I hurt you?” I cried. - -“You are generous,” she said; “but are you honest now? Are you sure -you wish this? Is it me you really want? You are a man and will not be -blamed—and I—well, I can live it down. The fault was mine, not yours. -Perhaps you will regret; perhaps it is because you are sorry for me -that you offer me your—your protection. Oh! be sure—be sure!” - -I do not remember what I said or did then, but I know I had a ready -answer for this and urged it so vehemently, becoming oblivious to all -else, that the sloop yawed widely and I was called to earth by a shout -from the tug to the effect that I had better “mind my eye” and see what -in the devil I was about. - -It was a strange wooing. Five o’clock in the morning is not a usual -hour for inspiration, yet I was never more eloquent. Nor were the chief -elements of the little drama picturesque—a woebegone and very much -mussed-up young lady with unkempt hair, her figure lost in the folds of -a dirty blanket, and a man with the appearance of having been hurriedly -starched and rough-dried. But there was a new pink in the cheeks of the -one and a new light in the eyes of the other, as Edith, without a word -in answer to my pleading, simply placed her soft hand in mine for a -moment, then brushing away her tears, ran below. - -To the casual observer on the streets of New Haven no doubt we looked -somewhat time-worn, but this was partly mended by the milliner and the -tailor. I was still as idiotic as a man is likely to be after a heavy -stroke of good fortune, and it was when sitting in the hotel where I -had just penned the last of a number of telegrams that I turned to the -girl for my final triumph. - -“Edith, it was only yesterday morning that you scoffed at the force of -circumstance and I hinted at a tale I could write that would convince -you. But I need not use invention—we have acted a story ourselves. You -have been forced to capitulate. Was I not right?” - -“No, dear,” she returned softly. “My answer would have been the same -had you asked me long ago.” - - - - - _Before and After_ - - -WANDERING WILLIE—Why wudn’t yer wanter be a millionaire, pard? - -WEARY RAGGLES—What’s de diff’rence? Dose fellers git de dyspepsie an’ -hev de distressed feelin’ arter eatin’, ’stead of afore, dat’s all. - - * * * * * - - _Declined_ - -TED—It was a case of love at first sight with him. - -NED—How was it with the girl? - -TED—From the answer she gave him she must have had second -sight. - - * * * * * - - _A Terrible Example_ - -LATSON—He used to be a newsboy, and now he is in the legislature. - -CODWELL—That’s just what you might expect shooting craps -would lead to. - - * * * * * - -Everybody tells you not to worry. The point is: how not to worry. Worry -is discontent swathed with timidity. Be brave in your worries by making -them protests. At least it helps your circulation. - - - - - _An Ideal Cruise in an Ideal Craft_ - - - BY WALLACE IRWIN - - It were the good ship _Gentle Jane_ - On which we et and slept, - The tightest, safest little craft - As ever sailed, except— - - Her cargo it wuz gasolene - And pitch-wood kindling light - And powder fine and turpentine - And tar and dynamite. - - Our crew wuz tried and trusty men - As ever sailed the wet, - And so I had full confidence - In their discretion, yet— - - The cook _would_ dump hot, glowin’ coals - In that there gasolene, - And them there tars _would_ smoke cigars - In the powder magazine. - - “Oh, Cap,” I sez to Capting White - With reverent respect, - “Now couldn’t we in trifles be - A bit more circumspect?” - - “Well I’ll be blowed!” the Capting sez - To pass the matter by. - “Unless I’m wrong ere very long - We’ll all be blowed,” sez I. - - And as I croke this little joke - The sea got very rough, - The gong went clang! the hull went bang! - Our gallant ship went puff! - - A cloud o’ smoke with us on top - A million fathoms lept— - Yet in that muss not one of us - Wuz scratched or hurt, except— - - Our gallant Capting lost his head. - Our Mate his limbs and breath, - The soup wuz spilled, our crew wuz killed, - Our cook wuz scared to death. - - So often in the stilly night - I long with fond regret - To sail again the _Gentle Jane_ - Upon the sea, and yet— - - - - - _The Heritage of Maxwell Fair_ - - - BY VINCENT HARPER - - - CHAPTER I - -With the smoking pistol still in his hand he stepped over the prostrate -man and, grasping Mrs. Fair’s bare shoulder, shook her until she looked -up. - -“Quick! For God’s sake, Janet, get to your room!” he said, trying to -make her comprehend what he meant, but she only stared at him vacantly, -her white face filled with terror and her eyes fixed on the form on the -floor—that of a man in evening dress, across whose wide shirt front a -streak of blood was widening. - -“Why did he come here?” she asked, hiding the sickening sight with her -hands before her eyes. “He swore he would not. This is horrible!” - -“Come, Janet, come,” remonstrated Fair, seizing her again. “It’s past -seven, and they will be here presently. My God, can’t you see what this -means? He’s dead!” - -“Oh, don’t, don’t,” she cried, shuddering as if the truth burned her -brain. “Ugh! See!” she gasped as she caught sight of a splash of red on -her gown. - -“Yes, and you stand here! Are you mad?” muttered Fair, pushing her to -the door. “Go, now, and change—and be careful what you do with that -dress. Hark! There’s the bell now. Remember, until they go, you must -betray no feeling. Are you great enough to do this? You won’t fail me?” - -“Anything, Maxwell, for your sake—but you—what will you do -with—_that_?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at the thing as if -it fascinated her. - -“Leave everything to me,” he answered, pulling her chin around so that -she could not see. “I assume all. Remember, girl, it was I, do you -understand? Go!” - -When he had finally closed the door upon her, he gave way to his -agony—but only for a moment. With a quietness and rapidity that seemed -to astonish even himself he placed the pistol upon the library-table, -locked both of the doors, drew the heavy red velvet curtains across the -window and, bending over the fallen man, critically examined him. - -Satisfied that life was extinct, he pulled the body over to the -fireplace, beside which, at right angles to the side of the room, there -stood a large Italian chest with a very high carved back. Into this -chest Fair lifted the limp body of the man and thoughtfully placed a -number of heavy books and magazines upon it. Then carefully glancing -about the room and noticing no evidences of the crime, he sat down, -wiped his brow, and closing his eyes, tried to let the stupendous facts -of the last five minutes become realities to his mind—to formulate -some practical line of action in the future which those five minutes -had so fatally revolutionized. - -The way that he started at a respectful tap at the library door showed -him what a terribly changed man he already was, and it was with a -petulant, unnatural voice that he shouted: “Well? That you, Baxter?” - -“A man, sir, who insists upon seeing you, sir,” answered Baxter, Fair’s -old butler, whom he had inherited with the estates and furniture, felt -grateful to as a faithful servant, and tolerated as an incompetent old -bore. - -“Tell him to go to the devil, with my compliments, and to come to my -office if he really has business with me!” thundered Fair, not at all -like himself. - -Baxter shook his head as he said: “Very good, sir,” and toddled -downstairs, putting two and two together as servants will in the best -regulated families. - -The furniture seemed to be all out of place, so Fair pulled it this -way and that, but wherever he placed it, it still seemed, to his mind, -to show that a scuffle had taken place. After abandoning the idea of -getting it to look right, he devoted his anxious attention to his own -appearance, which, although his faultless evening attire was immaculate -and his thin, brown hair, with a touch of gray, was smooth and precise, -seemed to him to betray the fact that he had passed through a scene of -some sort. Giving up the effort to discover just what was wrong, he -unlocked the doors, drew his chair to the table and toyed with a pen -and some sheets of paper on which he began several times to write. - -“Maxwell Fair, old chap,” he said to himself, looking up at the -ceiling, “this is pretty well near the end—but it’s all in the day’s -work.” - -Then he dashed off two telegrams and rang the bell, which Baxter -promptly answered, having been standing at the door. “Did you ring, -sir?” he asked. - -“Yes,” said Fair. “Here, see that these two telegrams are sent -immediately—but wait. Baxter, a gentleman called about twenty minutes -ago. Did you let him in?” - -He watched the old man’s face closely as he replied: “Yes, sir. A dark, -foreign-looking gentleman, sir.” - -“Yes,” went on Fair, picking up the evening paper carelessly and -speaking with great indifference; “he is in my study. Just fetch his -coat and hat here, will you? And, by the way, did any of the other -servants see him?” - -“The gentleman said he was an old friend of my lady’s—and none of the -other servants saw him, sir. Aren’t you well, sir? I hope that nothing -has occurred, sir,” answered Baxter, with an old servant’s liberty. - -“No,” snapped Fair, with irritation, but going on more in his usual -way. “Now look sharp and fetch the gentleman’s coat. A very old friend -of Mrs. Fair’s. What was the other chap like—the one who wished to see -me?” - -“Oh, him, sir,” replied Baxter, with a servant’s contempt for callers -of his own class in society, “he were a quiet-spoken, ordinary sort of -party, sir, as said he come from Scotland Yard.” - -Fair was too well in hand by this time to wince as he heard this bit -of disturbing coincidence, but he said to himself: “My word, they are -prompt—but, damn it, they can’t have known!” Then, happening to look -up and seeing the old butler, “What are you waiting for?” - -“I beg your pardon, sir,” gently began Baxter, shuffling nearer to -Fair, “but, Mr. Fair, sir—Master Maxwell—you’ll forgive an old -servant that served your father and grandfather before you, sir. There -ain’t no trouble like, or anythink a-hangin’ over us, is there, sir? -One of the parlormaids thought that she heard a shot, sir—and——” - -“Oh, yes,” quickly responded Fair, with a laugh, “I was cleaning this -old pistol and it went off. Get on now. Trouble? Why, look at me, -Baxter. I’m the luckiest dog in the world. I have just made another -fortune.” - -“Thank God for that, sir,” quietly replied old Baxter, moving toward -the door, at which he turned and said, “The gentleman will be dining, -of course?” - -“No, he can’t stop. In fact, he wishes to leave the house unobserved -by our guests when we are at dinner—so fetch his hat and coat,” said -Fair, again settling down to his evening paper. - -“I was forgetting, sir,” once more the querulous old voice began, “that -Miss Mettleby said that the children are coming to say good night——” - -“The children?” exclaimed Fair, caught off his guard. “No—good God, -no!—that is, I mean I shall be engaged. Tell Miss Mettleby so. Be off.” - -With suspicions now thoroughly aroused and full of misgivings Baxter -did as he was bid, and his master jerked the paper open again and -slapped at the crease to make the sheet flat. But his eyes wandered -aimlessly. - -“The children—gad! I had forgotten them,” he muttered as he thought -with horror what this all meant to them. Time after time he tried to -read the leading article which was about his own brilliant achievement, -but with a mad spasm he crumpled the newspaper into a ball and flung it -across the great room, exclaiming, “Why didn’t the infernal blackguard -know when he was well off?” - -“The gentleman’s coat and hat, sir,” said Baxter, coming in annoyingly. - -“Very well—now go,” retorted Fair peevishly. “Ask Mr. Travers to come -up here the moment he arrives. Here, here—you are forgetting the -telegrams. You seem to forget everything lately. You are too careless.” - -“So I am, so I am,” quavered the poor old beggar, with tears in his -voice. “I shall soon be of very little service, sir.” - -“Nonsense,” answered Fair, touched by the old fellow’s feeling. “You -have twenty years of good work before you. But, I say, Baxter, I forgot -to tell you—we are leaving town tomorrow morning. Discharge all of the -servants tonight. Hear me? All of them—tonight.” - -“Tonight, sir?” exclaimed Baxter, dropping his little silver card-tray. -“They will be expecting a month’s notice, sir.” - -“That means a month’s pay, I suppose,” answered Fair sharply. “Give -them a year’s pay, if you like—but get them out of the house tomorrow -morning before nine o’clock. You see, I have sold the house, and the -new owner takes possession at ten. You understand me? We shall, of -course, take you and Anita with us—to the continent, you know.” - -“I hear, sir,” replied Baxter, adding, after a dazed and groping moment, -“some of them have been in our family’s service for twenty years. That -is a long time, sir, and they will think it hard to be——” - -“By Jove, that’s so!” exclaimed Fair, pacing up and down with a growing -sense of disgust and rage at having to cramp his future into the -ignominious bondage of a desperate situation. “No, I can’t turn them -away. Tell them that I shall instruct my solicitor to provide for them -for life—yes, tell them that. Come here, Baxter,” he went on, rapidly -losing control of himself and pathetically stretching his hands out as -if to grasp the love and sympathy of someone; “I haven’t been a hard -master, have I? No. And when the end comes, you won’t turn against me? -I—I—I—oh, damn it, clear out of here, won’t you?” - -“Why, my dear young master, whatever ails you, sir?” cried the old -butler, grasping the hand that Fair waved to him. “If you did but know -how we all love you, sir, perhaps you would——” - -“Do you? Do you?” broke in Fair feverishly. “That’s right, too. But, -Baxter, things have gone wrong, and in a few hours I may need all the -love that you or anybody else will give me. Get out of here, can’t you?” - -Baxter threw his arms about the young man’s neck. “Come what may, sir, -there shall not be found a better friend than your poor old servant.” -And then, holding the lapels of Fair’s coat, he added, with much -embarrassment and tenderness, “And, sir, if I might make so bold—I -have close on a thousand pounds in the funds, and every penny——” - -“Every penny is mine, you were going to say?” interrupted Fair, -smiling even in his despair at the old man’s estimate of his needs. -“Thanks, thanks, old comrade; but no amount of money can stave off -the blue devils at times, you know. You knew my fathers, Baxter. They -were a race of damned fools who were ready at a moment’s notice to -lose everything for an idea! I am their son—I am their heir—and the -damnedest fool of the lot.” - -As he said this Fair raised his head with a look so defiant, so full -of an almost supernatural exaltation, so nearly that which shines in -the eye of the victim of a fixed idea or of a fatal hallucination that -Baxter, who was not expert at psychological analysis, felt a vague -misgiving that his eccentric young master had suddenly gone off his -head. - -And one more penetrating than old Baxter would have been amazed at the -change which had come over the expression of the agitated man. The look -of horror and disgust and consternation was gone, and in its place had -come the fire of enthusiasm, the sublime uplift of the martyr, the -terrifying concentration of some irrational, uncalculating, final _idée -fixe_. - -“See who that is,” he said to the butler when a knock was heard. - -“It is Miss Mettleby, sir,” replied Baxter from the door. - -“Oh, come in, come in,” called out Fair with unaccountable eagerness. - - - CHAPTER II - -The girl who entered as he spoke had come into Mrs. Fair’s employ as a -governess from a Somersetshire parsonage. She was tall, carried herself -with the unconscious ease of one who, with a nature susceptible of the -deepest emotion and broadest culture, has grown up in the open and in -ignorance of the world, and at eight-and-twenty had settled down to the -monotony and hopelessness of a life of thankless dependence. - -From the moment of coming into the family of the famous financier Kate -Mettleby had felt, as who had not, the subtle charm of his personality; -yet with her it was not a natural appreciation of a character at -once brilliant and winsome, but rather a sort of terrifying though -exquisitely pleasurable sense of oneness with the man. Hers was a -mind far too devoid of precedents and mental experience to be capable -or even desirous of analyzing the feeling which she was aware she -entertained for the calm, strong, self-reliant father of the -children whom she was to teach. She knew only that Maxwell Fair was -different—oh, so different—from all other men, and that, without the -faintest shadow of love for him—which her simple, country mind would -have thought sinful and degrading—he, or that mystical something that -he stood for in her mind, had made forever impossible all thought of -ever loving another. - -Had she been asked to name the reason for so abnormal and morbid a -fancy, she would have been utterly powerless to do so. Maxwell Fair -was as much of a puzzle to her as he was to everybody, both in society -and in the city. This man, whose name was now in everybody’s mouth as -the most daring and successful operator on ’Change, had come to London -less than five years before with nothing, so far as was known, but the -entailed and heavily burdened estates in Norfolk which he had inherited -from his father, who, old men declared, had been little short of a -madman. - -By a series of dashing ventures in mining stocks Fair had attracted -attention, and, what was more to the purpose, accumulated enough ready -cash to enable him to avail himself of the situation then confronting -the speculative world. At the very top of the Kaffir and other South -African securities boom, when men were buying with an eagerness and -recklessness amounting to frenzy, Fair was quietly selling, so that -when the crash came and the breaking out of the Boer War knocked the -bottom out of values, he had the satisfaction of buying back at panic -prices the very shares which he had prudently disposed of at absurdly -exaggerated prices some time before. - -Establishing his family in the mansion which he had bought in the -princely Carlton House Terrace, Fair rapidly became as fascinating -and puzzling in society as he had proved Napoleonic and baffling in -Throgmorton street, where was his office. Women found him quaintly -and refreshingly chivalrous and almost annoyingly happy as a -conversationalist, while men who sought his acquaintance with an eye -to business connections—and were disappointed—discovered that the chap -from whom they had hoped to learn the secrets of success was a fellow -of infinite jest, a capital _raconteur_ and a frank, generous, genial -companion withal. - -Such was Maxwell Fair when once more the newspapers announced that he -had disposed of the celebrated Empire Mines stock which he had picked -up—after a personal inspection of the property in Mexico—when nobody -else would touch it, at the staggering figure of over ten times what -he had paid for the shares, netting by the transaction close upon two -hundred thousand pounds. - -At innumerable dinner-tables at that moment he was being discussed, -envied and lauded to the skies—and he himself sat with flushed, -nervous face awaiting guests, and now bidding the strangest woman whom -he had ever met enter with some message from the nursery. - -“The children are ready for bed, Mr. Fair,” said Miss Mettleby, -standing in that humble posture which he had begged her never to -assume, because it somehow irritated him very much. “Are they to come -down to say good night? Or shall you come up?” - -“That will do, Baxter,” said Fair, noticing that the old butler still -puttered about the room as if intending to remain. Baxter reluctantly -went out and closed the door, which, one is disposed to fear, meant -that the interested old servant did not go far on its other side. - -“I am engaged,” continued Fair, looking up at Miss Mettleby. “I will go -up and kiss them afterward. Sit down—no, not on that chest, please.” - -“Why not?” asked Miss Mettleby, surprised. “It’s my favorite seat—it -is so comfortable.” - -“It makes me uncomfortable to see you sit there—at any time,” answered -Fair, endeavoring to appear whimsical and indifferent, as usual. -“So—thank you. That’s better. Well, Kate, the three months are -over—to the very day, I believe. Coincidences are strange sometimes, -are they not? The time is up. Have you decided?” - -“I have,” returned Kate so quickly that he started. - -“Well?” he asked, after waiting in vain for her to go on. - -“I leave Mrs. Fair’s service on the first of next month,” quietly -replied the governess, evidently with a quietness which cost her much, -and as if bracing herself for the crisis of her life. “I have secured -another position—with Lord Linklater’s family. I have advised Mrs. -Fair already.” - -“I’m glad of it—why, you look hurt. Fie!” taunted Fair. “Such virtue -should be pleased, not hurt. The eternal feminine will out, though, -always.” - -“Pardon me,” retorted Kate stiffly, “I am heartily glad that you are -glad. May I ask what has moved you to so commendable a frame of mind? -If you had a conscience, I would say that it had at last awakened. -Ah, I see—it was pride. What a mercy it is that when nature left -conscience out of the aristocracy it supplied them with pride! Were it -not for good form, how many gentlemen would there be? I congratulate -you.” - -“Go on,” urged Fair, settling back into his chair with the smile of -amused superiority which he very often indulged in, contrary to his -real feeling, to draw her out. “By Jove, you have enough cant to -stock a whole meeting of dissenting old ladies. What a mercy it is, -as you would put it, that when heaven forgot to endow young females -with common sense, it gave them such a superabundance of pharisaical -tommy-rot! If it were not for maiden aunts and governesses, how much -_talk_ of virtue—talk, I say—would there be in this naughty world?” - -“It is well that there are some who, even by talking, remind men -that there is, in theory at least, such a thing as honor,” replied -Kate, with a sneaking notion that she was talking very platitudinous -platitudes. - -“Oh, entirely so,” drawled Fair sneeringly. “But isn’t it a pity that -the milk of human kindness should be soured by the vinegar of -puritanical self-righteousness? I promised you that I would not speak -to you for three months. I have kept my promise. Now I am going to -have my say—now, now, don’t fidget, I beg of you! A very different -man is going to speak to you now from the one who said what I said to -you on the deck of the sinking yacht that night. Do you remember, Miss -Mettleby?” - -“I wish that I could hope some day to forget it,” answered the girl, -flaming scarlet. - -Fair rose as if trying to control emotions that were shaking his -foundations. “Don’t you see?” he burst out, confronting her; “don’t you -see that your hopelessness in that connection is the result of only one -possible cause? You love me.” - -“Mr. Fair!” screamed the governess, springing to her feet with a -gesture of protest that died in the making, for the clutch of the truth -of his words was about her throat. “Truly, sir, you forget your own -dignity and my dependent and defenseless position. I cannot hear this -from you, sir.” - -“But you must hear me—you shall hear me,” he flung back at her. Then -with a tenderness that was harder to resist: “And, Miss Mettleby—Kate, -you really need not fear or try to shun me now. God knows, I shall be -helpless and harmless enough. Yes, Kate, the rich and powerful Maxwell -Fair will in a day or two be buried under the contempt and scorn of -all good men. But, by the right of dying men, I claim that I may speak -to you. I am glad that you are leaving us. I wish to God that you had -never come. Among your many virtues you include courage. May I confide -in you? Ask your advice? Lean on you?” - -Had he struck her, had he pressed on her a suit that bore dishonor on -its face, she could have met him, young and untutored in the arts of -life though she was. But when the great, calm, finished man to whom she -had looked up in an unspoken worship laid his hand pleadingly upon her -now, and those dear, merry lips of his quivered and almost failed -to shape his piteous cry that she should help him, it was with a -tremendous effort that she conquered the impulse to throw her arms -about his neck, and said calmly: - -“Mr. Fair, this is scarcely kind of you. My God, how ill you look! -Forgive me, sir, if I am the unhappy cause of any of your present -suffering.” - -“Kate,” he said at length, looking wistfully at her. - -“Yes, Mr. Fair,” she replied, hushed and unable to protest further. - -“Kate, you have been with us for two years,” he began, speaking very -low. “Little by little you grew into my life. The hungry yearning for -I knew not what, the restless madness, the sense of emptiness and of -despair, all that had turned my life into the aimless thing it was, -seemed to give place within me to a strange, new spirit of hope and -faith and comfort. And you, you, little woman, were the cause of that -wondrous change. As I saw you moving about the house so sweetly, as -I heard you singing the children to sleep, as I noted the difference -between you and the women who had made my world, I came slowly to -realize that you were all to me. Did I tell you this? Did I show it in -any way?” - -“You were a gentleman,” replied Miss Mettleby, regaining control of -herself sufficiently to speak as she thought she should and no longer -as she wished. “And, anyhow, had you forgot your honor and my position -so far as to have spoken, you know that I would have left your roof at -once. Please, may I not go now?” - -Her manner galled him as all that was not genuine did always, and he -was about to sneer at the phrase, “leave your roof,” but he at once -recognized that to her mind, in which truths were broad, general, -axiomatic propositions, and not complex and subtle many-sided phases -of propositions, there would be no halting ground between her present -attitude and actual dishonor. So he went on. - -“No; please do not go yet. Good heavens! when I am done you will regret -your wish to leave me. Well then, I did not speak to you. I quite -ignored you, treated you like a servant. But it was from no sense of -honor, mark you; for I deny that honor, yours or mine, would have been -lost by speaking. Nor was it from a squeamish fear of the proprieties -and the conventionalities that I refrained, for I would brush the world -aside as so much stubble if it should stand between me and my right to -truth. No, Kate, it was not from the lofty principles which you imagine -to be God’s, nor from my foolish pride as an aristocrat—how could -you, even for a moment, think me so base? I remained silent because, -whether for good or ill, I have devoted all I am to an idea, a cause, a -purpose.” - -As he spoke these last few words a number of conflicting thoughts -passed through Kate’s mind. With only the vaguest notion of his -meaning, jealousy shot a stinging, momentary, utterly illogical shaft -through her heart, which was followed by a profoundly feminine feeling -of injury in being thus coolly told that she would have been addressed -had not some paramount other interest absorbed his mind. - -“Indeed?” she remarked, with what she thought was biting sarcasm, but -which a much less penetrating mind than Maxwell Fair’s would have at -once taken as an indication of jealousy and love. “And so you plume -yourself, do you, on considering your wife and children an idea, a -cause, a purpose, to which, for good or ill, you have made up your mind -to give all that you are? Heroic, I must say, and so unusual.” - -“Governess! Sunday-school moralizer!” he jeered at her. “No, nor was -I deterred by that still more arrant humbug about ‘penniless and -dependent females’ that you learned from our past masters of humbug -and lachrymose moral biliousness, the great novelists. No, it was not -because you were a poor orphan girl in my employ, and, consequently, -incapable of defending yourself, that I refrained from speaking to -you. Rubbish! The cant of moral snobs! As if the virtue of poor girls -was made of weaker stuff than that of rich ones! My God, did I want -victims, I swear I would pursue them in drawing-rooms with more success -than in the servants’ hall.” - -“I really cannot see what all this has to do with you and me,” coldly -remarked Miss Mettleby when he paused. - -“You will see presently,” Fair answered, ignoring her freezing manner -and with rapidly growing intensity and feeling. “I remained silent. I -crucified my heart, denied my soul. But that night, Kate, when you and -I alone were clinging to the yacht and neither of us hoped to see the -sun again, I told you. It was my right. It was your right as well.” - -“And, half dead as I was, I shamed you, sir, and called you what you -were by every law of God and man and honor,” she flung back at him with -a flush of remembered nobility very comforting in the light of more -recent less lofty thoughts. - -“Yes,” replied Fair, with his old-time elevation and calmness, which -were a mainspring of his influence over her; “yes, the habits of a -lifetime cling to us, Kate, making us dare to lie upon the very edge -of death and coming judgment. I loved you, and I told you. You loved -me, and denied it. And we were both about to face eternity! Which of us -would have faced it with the cleaner heart?” - -“Oh, don’t, don’t!” she cried, shrinking from him. “You know I cannot -argue with you. But I am sure that I was right, that I am right now. -Please let me go.” - -“In a moment, in a moment,” he answered, grasping her two hands. “I -probably will never see you again, Kate—so let me now speak out. I -asked you to take three months to think it over, and promised you that -I would then give you the reasons for my strange conduct and beg of you -to face the world with me for our great love’s sake.” - -“Yes,” she said, freeing her hands; “you said you would be able to -convince me that there was no dishonor in your love, no wrong in what -you would propose that we should do. Three months you gave me—three -months. Why, Mr. Fair, three minutes would be enough for me to reach -the only possible decision which you, an English gentleman, can ask a -young and unprotected English girl like me to make. But I was grateful -for your three months’ silence. If you could trust yourself, I am -compelled to own that I could not so trust myself. I love you—may God -forgive me, but I cannot help it! But your chivalrous respite of three -months has given me a grip upon myself. I do not fear myself. I do not -fear even you. I am to leave your house, never to see you again. And -some day you will thank me.” - -There had been a wondrous new development of strength and beauty in her -as she spoke, and Fair had watched her with profoundest feeling. - -“Kate, Kate, you wrong me, upon my honor!” he cried when she ceased. -“The promise that I made you was one that I could keep. There is a -mystery, an awful something in my life, that has through all these -years kept me so falsely true, that, being true to one great object -fixed on me by my fate, I’ve been compelled to seem what I am not to -all the world. To get you, Kate, to rest at last my broken heart upon -your love, I was this very night to break the self-imposed conditions -of my weird life-purpose. God! how I counted them, these long, slow -days, waiting for this one! An hour ago I still supposed that I could -fold you on my heart tonight and tell you everything! I thought that I -could say the word that would dispel your doubts and make you—you only -in the world see me as God does. But now I cannot. Be brave and hear -me, Kate,” he added, holding her arm, which was trembling under the -influence of his own great passion. “I am a criminal. I have done that -which must make you despise me, must drive me from the society of men, -and bring me to the gibbet.” - -Forgetting all her previous moods, Miss Mettleby allowed the choking -man to lean against her as she cried. “You are ill. Take my arm—so. -And oh, believe me, that nothing that you imagine you have done, -nothing that you could do, can rob you of one poor and weak, but brave -and true girl’s friendship. Do let me call your wife. Yes, I will call -her—let me. And you must tell her. Tell her—her, not me.” - -“Stop! Stop!” cried Fair, frantically holding the struggling girl, who -was making for the door; “and be quiet. Hear me. It’s all that I can -say, but it will show you, Kate, that, if I am a criminal, I mean you -no dishonor. You want to call my wife. _I have no wife!_ She is not——” - -He was cut short by Baxter, who stood at the door at that moment and -announced, “Mr. Travers.” Travers entered smiling, and Fair, with a -completeness of mastery over his feelings which Kate could not believe -true, sang out: “Travers, old chap, glad to see you! What’s the good -word?” - -Miss Mettleby slipped out of the library and ran up to her little room. -She knew that now it would be impossible to see him again that night, -as it would be late when the last guest had gone. Throwing herself on -her bed, she tried to make it all out. His crime—his saying that he -had no wife—the awful something in his life which, for her sake, he -was to have broken from that very night—what did it all mean? - -She could grasp no idea out of the chaos long enough for it to -take shape in her mind. She drifted helplessly down the torrent of -tumultuous fears and hopes and hungers, knowing only one thing—that -she loved him, she loved him. - - - CHAPTER III - -The man who now came in was that lovable, unlucky, wonderfully clever -Dick Travers, who was forty and a failure when a manager, miraculously -experiencing a lucid interval, brought out his five hundredth play, -“The Idiot,” since which time five hundred managers coquet with him -for each new play. But all this was after the time now reached. Dick -Travers was still a failure whom Fair had met before his own ascent to -opulence, and to whom he was drawn by several ties, among which was -their common taste for etchings in dry-point and the more tangible -common interest in yachting and hatred for most things foreign. - -“Pretty well right, thanks,” replied Travers to Fair’s welcome, adding -immediately with much excitement, “and by Jove, old man, have you seen -the evening papers? You’ve got a lot of those Empire shares, haven’t -you? Well, the blooming things went up to two hundred and eighty today.” - -“Not really?” exclaimed Fair, enjoying the innocent’s naïve idea -that all this was news to the man who had put up the shares to that -altitude. “Baxter, some brandy and soda. Look sharp.” - -“Yes, sir; thank you, sir,” answered Baxter with spirit as he trotted -out after the brandy and soda, pathetically clutching the hope that his -young master’s case could not be so desperate after all, since he was -meeting his friend’s high spirits with equally high ones. - -“You picked up these shares, didn’t you,” asked Travers, sitting on -the end of the table, “when they were being kicked about the Street at -about twenty? Lord, what a lucky devil you are. I, on the contrary, -bought those beastly Australian King shares, and they went up also—in -smoke.” - -“I am lucky, am I not?” acquiesced Fair, glancing over at the chest. -“In fact, I wanted to talk to you tonight about myself. Do you see this -pistol? Do you recognize it?” he went on, with so abrupt a change of -subject and expression that Travers stood up with an uncomfortable look. - -“Perfectly,” he answered, after taking up the pistol and looking at it; -“it is the one poor Ponsonby gave you—but what’s the game, old man?” - -“Examine it. Is it loaded?” asked Fair with tormenting mystery. - -“Yes. All the chambers are full. Translate, please,” said Travers after -carefully inspecting the revolver, with growing annoyance. - -“Oh, come, now, look at it carefully,” cried Fair, with what seemed -absurd warmth to Travers. “Isn’t one of the chambers empty? Have -another look.” - -“Right you are—one cartridge has been discharged,” answered Travers. - -“Recently, wouldn’t you say?” continued Fair. - -“Yes, perhaps,” replied Travers, becoming seriously disturbed by this -most unwonted development of character in the hard-headed and practical -Fair. “But what the deuce is the game, you know?” - -“Nothing,” answered Fair, putting down the pistol and turning from the -table as if about to turn from the gruesome subject as well. “I had a -fancy that I wanted you to notice these little details. I may ask you -to remember them some day. By the way, you are going to Drayton Hall -tomorrow?” - -“Yes,” quickly replied Travers, only too glad to follow some new lead. -“Sir Nelson asked me at the club last night. Who is to be there? -Drayton is no end of a bore, you know, when Lady Poynter has what she -calls ‘the literary set’ down. The men are a lot of insufferable prigs, -and the women—oh, hang it, you know what they are.” - -“Yes,” drawled Fair, himself again; “if one could ever meet the women -who write! But one can’t, you know—it is the women who think they -write that one meets. But we are safe tomorrow. Poynter assured me that -nobody with brains would be down—so we count upon a comfortable time. -Anyhow, I shall be running back to town in the evening, and, before -I forget it, I want you and Allyne to give me the night—here at the -house. I have a bit of rather serious work on my hands.” - -“I’m yours, of course,” answered Travers. “But, I say, old chap, let -up on this melodrama, can’t you? Be a man and try to bear up bravely -under your increased income of sixty thousand more a year. Now I have -a jolly good right to chronic blue devils, for I never succeeded at -anything in my life, as you know. But you—gad! it’s treason for you to -do a blessed thing but chant pæans of victory—and pour libations on -yourself.” - -“Never fear,” laughed Fair, “I’m the happiest man alive. You have -no idea of what I possess. Why, hang it, man,” he went on with an -unpleasant ring in his voice that puzzled and alarmed Travers, “I tell -you, I have things that would surprise you—in this very room. Ah, -here’s the brandy and soda.” - -Baxter entered and deposited the tray on the table, but, although he -took an unconscionable long time to arrange the decanters and glasses, -he could get no hint of the drift of the conversation, as neither of -the gentlemen spoke until the absorbing process of “mixing” was over -and Baxter gone. - -“I forgot to tell you,” began Travers, with his glass in his hand, -“that I saw that Cuban chap, Lopez, this morning, and he wants me to -dine with him to meet another yellow gent from the land of cigars, who -says that he knows you, or rather, Mrs. Fair. Can you imagine who he -may be?” - -“It is probably a man named Mendes, a very rich planter,” answered -Fair, after a few moments, during which he was critically studying the -rich amber color of his drink as he held his glass between his eye and -the light. “I fancy it must be Mendes, for he was in London today—but -he left very suddenly this afternoon. Have another drink.” - -“Left, eh?” asked Travers, filling his glass. “Thank heaven, for then -I sha’n’t have to meet him. I hate those Cubans. Always seem to have -something up their sleeve—and to have forgot tubbing that morning.” - -“But you would like Mendes, I’m sure,” returned Fair, smiling. “Plays -chess better than any man on earth, I believe. He was good enough to -call to say good-bye, although he was in a beastly hurry. If you had -kept your promise and dropped in for a go at billiards, you would have -met him. I was able to do him a trifling service at one time ages ago, -and the fellow seems never to forget it. I’m sorry he’s gone; I am, -really.” - -“Not returning, then?” inquired Travers, with no very great interest. - -“I’m afraid not,” replied Fair, with a slight uneasiness. “I’d give a -good deal to see him walk in that door this minute, though. You see——” - -“Mr. Allyne is in the billiard-room, sir,” announced Baxter at the door. - -“Run in and tell Allyne that I’ll join you presently, will you, Dick, -that’s a good chap?” said Fair, with more of command than suggestion -in his tone, so that Travers obeyed and followed Baxter down to the -billiard-room. - -In an instant Fair’s whole bearing changed. Closing the door, he picked -up the hat and coat that Baxter had brought from the passage and thrust -them into the large chest, carefully averting his face as he did so. -Dropping into his chair he wiped the cold sweat from his face and -signaled to the crack in the side door that whoever it was that had -been gently opening it for some little time might now come in. As he -knew, it was Mrs. Fair, who then entered, attired in another dinner -gown. - -Motioning to her that she must speak softly, Fair said: “Allyne and -Travers are in the billiard-room. The rest will be coming presently. -How are you, poor little Janet?” - -She came and sat on the arm of his chair and put her face down upon his -shoulder. “Am I awake?” she moaned after a few seconds. “Oh, Maxwell, -for God’s sake, wake me and tell me that I have been dreaming. My God, -what can we do? Where is—it?” - -“Hush!” replied Fair, holding his arm about her. “Try not to think of -him, dear. Be brave, sweet, for a couple of hours. Don’t be afraid. -Have I ever failed you?” - -“No, no—never, Maxwell—God bless you, never,” she sobbed. “But, -oh—look, look—quick, hide that pistol!” - -“I left it there on purpose,” he answered quietly and reassuringly. -“Now don’t in any way try to alter my plans. I have thought more in the -last half-hour than I ever did in all the rest of my life. Everything -is provided for. At this time tomorrow night you and the children will -be safe on the continent. What did you do with that other dress?” - -“Ugh,” she shuddered; “while I was taking it off baby came running into -the room and wanted to touch the horrible spots. I wrapped the accursed -thing up in stout paper and gave it to Miss Mettleby. Why, you are not -afraid that she—but no. Well, I told her it was a surprise for you, -and she will hide it somewhere while we are at dinner, and tell me -after.” - -“That was a wise move,” said Fair. “And now, Janet, a brave heart, old -girl, and this beastly dinner will be over. What a trump you are!” - -“Trust me,” she replied, looking with infinite loyalty at the man who -had stood for so much so strangely much in her torn and beaten life. -“Trust me. But, Maxwell, when the end comes, as it most surely will, -you will explain how it came to be done—you will tell them how his -crimes deserved this. For the children’s sake you won’t be foolish and -sacrifice yourself to protect others? Oh, promise me, promise me.” - -“Poor little woman!” he answered, with great tenderness. “Yes, yes, all -shall be told. Hush! I hear them on the stairs. Yes, they are coming.” - -When Baxter with much ceremony threw open the door of the library, Mr. -and Mrs. Maxwell Fair stood there radiantly cordial and unruffled to -welcome the three or four intimate friends who were dining with them. - -“Sir Nelson and Lady Poynter, Mrs. March, Mr. Travers, Mr. Allyne,” -solemnly announced Baxter at the door, and these several ladies and -gentlemen, all chatting and beaming, hurried forward to pay their -respects to the most talked of man in London and his gracious and -handsome wife. - - -CHAPTER IV - -“My dear Lady Poynter, it was so good of you and Sir Nelson to honor -us—Mrs. March, so glad,” said Mrs. Fair, advancing to greet them. - -“Good evening, good evening, everybody,” blustered old Sir Nelson, -with a red face and a warm heart. “And, Fair, my lad, I see that those -shares that you put me into behaved rather well today. You must have -made a rather neat turn in them. Come, now, how was it?” - -“Pretty well, Sir Nelson,” answered Fair. “I sold out just before the -close at two hundred and seventy-five.” - -“Then you must have cleared a hundred thousand net?” said Sir Nelson. - -“A bit over double that amount, I think my brokers said,” replied Fair, -with no more feeling than he would have shown in announcing a change in -the weather. - -“Hear that, now,” pouted Mrs. March. “Why can’t you gentlemen ever -think of the widow and the fatherless when you, as you say, ‘put in’ -your friends on such occasions?” - -This little lady was by general consent the most charming widow -in the world, her brilliant mind, plump person and winsome manner -having beguiled no end of confirmed bachelors into forgetting their -resolutions—but without success, for Mrs. March remained Mrs. March -season after season. - -“Ah, my dear Mrs. March,” protested Allyne the incomprehensible, “what -heresy! Just fancy what a pity it would be if widows and younger sons -and all other picturesque people were to be made commonplace by money. -A widow’s charm lies in her delicious appeal to the protection of all -men. With a million in the funds, a widow would find no end of chaps -asking her to protect them—and so the charm would be gone. And as for -us younger sons—well, just contrast that solemn ass, my brother the -viscount, and the penniless, the clever, the dashing, the—how shall -I do justice to a thing so lovely as I? No, Sir Nelson, if you ever -put me into any of your vulgar good things, I’ll cut you, by Jove—and -society will owe you a grudge for having robbed it of its chief -ornament—a younger son who is a very younger son indeed.” - -“I am afraid that Mr. Allyne’s philosophy is too deep for me,” laughed -Mrs. Fair, and Travers remarked sweetly, “Allyne, you’re an idiot.” - -“But such a blissful idiot,” smilingly went on the very younger son. -“Awfully funny, but nobody can ever deny what I say. We pity Mrs. March, -the widow, and envy Mrs. Fair, the wife—but, you know, by Jove, I’d -turn it the other way about, don’t you know? No offense, Fair—nothing -personal. No, my friends, appearances are deceitful. I’ll lay you a -thousand guineas that Fair can’t get what he wants with all his Empire -shares and the rest of it, whereas I have everything I want, besides -several elder brothers that I do not want. I have everything I want, I -tell you.” - -“Yes,” retorted Mrs. March, “of course you have, since all that you -care to have is an absurd idea of your own importance.” - -“A hit, a palpable hit!” roared Sir Nelson as they all laughed. - -“Cruel,” protested Allyne. “And to punish you, Mrs. March, I shall ask -Mrs. Fair to allow me to take you down to dinner.” - -“I protest,” shouted Sir Nelson with fine gallantry; “I claim her.” - -“Jealous,” sneered Allyne. “Shame! Why, Poynter, your bald spot is as -big as your brain area—and Lady Poynter here, too. Fie on you!” - -“But Mrs. Fair can’t give Mrs. March any such sentence as placing her -at your mercy, Allyne,” said Travers; “for it is a principle of law -that it is unlawful to inflict any unusual and cruel punishments.” - -“Well, since you men can’t talk of anything except Mrs. March, I for -one am jealous,” cheerily put in Lady Poynter, with her cap bobbing -about prettily, “and I hope that Mrs. Fair will punish her by making -her listen to Mr. Allyne for two hours.” - -“But, I say, you know,” broke in Sir Poynter, while all the men added -their protests to such a disposition of the widow. - -“Just hear them all, will you?” cried Mrs. Fair, lifting her hands. “I -fear, my dear Lady Poynter, that to have a husband is fatal to success. -Every blessed one of them wants to sit by Mrs. March.” - -“Of course we do,” exclaimed Allyne. “You see, my dear Mrs. Fair, that, -while we all love you and dear Lady Poynter, we can’t quite go those -ridiculous appendages of yours, to wit., Mr. Fair and Sir Nelson. If -you could get rid of them, you know—and there are several ways—then -you would give even the peerless Mrs. March a close run.” - -“Why have you never married?” asked Mrs. March. - -“Can’t, you know—regularly can’t,” replied Allyne, with a woebegone -expression. “I could never think of marrying anyone but a widow, and, -as I consider widows the only desirable women, it would be against my -principles to reduce their number by marrying one of them, you know.” - -“But you might increase their number,” returned Mrs. March spiritedly, -“by marrying a girl and then atoning for the wrong you had done her in -so marrying her by dying at once.” - -“By Jove, do you know, I had never thought of that,” Allyne replied, -adding after a moment of serious consideration, “but, suppose I didn’t -die, you know? Deucedly uncertain thing, dying. Suicide, of course, -is out of the question in my case, as I am far too unselfish to seek -my own happiness at the frightful cost of depriving the world of my -presence. And English women are so fastidious that I might find it -difficult to persuade my wife to shoot—Look, look, Fair—Mrs. Fair is -ill.” - -While he was rattling along with his stream of nonsense Mrs. Fair, who -was standing a little behind the rest, swayed forward and would have -fallen had not Allyne’s exclamation called attention to her. - -“Quick, she is faint!” cried Lady Poynter sympathetically. - -But Mrs. Fair almost at once recovered herself, and said: “Pray, don’t -mind. I have these foolish turns at times. They amount to nothing. You -were saying, Mr. Allyne, that——” - -“Allyne was saying, my dear,” hastily put in Fair to head off Allyne, -“Allyne was saying that English women are so narrow in their views that -they hesitate to make the idiots of themselves that Englishmen are ever -so ready to do.” - -“I was saying nothing of the sort,” retorted Allyne, in spite of a kick -surreptitiously administered to him by Travers. “On the contrary, I——” - -“My lady is served,” gravely announced Baxter, pulling aside the -portières and awaiting the forming procession which, to judge from -his solemn bearing, might have been the funeral cortège of a great -personage. - -“Come, friends,” smiled Mrs. Fair. “Mrs. March, I will be merciful and -ask Mr. Travers to take you down. Sir Nelson, your arm.” - -Fair led the way with Lady Poynter, Sir Nelson with his hostess brought -up the rear, while Allyne walked in solitary, philosophical mood, much -as he chose. - -“It’s too bad, Mr. Allyne,” said Mrs. Fair, looking over her shoulder -at him, “but if you will be good, you may have some sweets. Come along.” - -“I appreciate your fine discrimination,” he replied as he executed a -flank movement and placed himself beside her. - -So they went downstairs chatting and laughing, leaving that gruesome -chest to silence and forgetfulness, and none of them saw the thin, sly -man who smiled as they passed within three feet of his hiding-place in -the little closet beneath the stairs. - - - CHAPTER V - -While this banter had been passing among the company in the great oak -library below, Miss Mettleby lay on her little white bed where she had -flung herself in a deeper and sterner mood than had ever been hers -before. One after another possible explanation of her great knight’s -terrible words presented itself to her mind, only to be rejected. - -For one quivering moment the thought that if the woman who passed for -Mrs. Fair were not, as he had said, his wife, he was free to—but, no, -for that meant that Maxwell Fair was a scoundrel who could not only -place a woman in such a nameless position but also desert her when she -had borne children to him. It was a frightful view from any point—and -yet, at the bottom of her heart she felt that the man who had obtained -such a mastery over her soul was not, could not be, so base. - -Racked by this futile effort to see light through the darkness Miss -Mettleby started as she heard a tap at her door and the quiet, earnest -voice of Mrs. Fair asking if she might come in. Her first impulse was -to take this strong, sweet woman, so terribly her fellow-sufferer, -into her confidence, but before she had called out to her to enter all -such mad ideas had flown. Trying to banish all evidence of her recent -tempest of feeling, the governess respectfully begged her mistress to -come in. - -It was nothing, Mrs. Fair said, with a great show of forced pleasantry, -but a little surprise for Mr. Fair—a parcel. Would Miss Mettleby hide -it while they were at dinner, and tell her where she had put it after? -Both women assured each other that they had not been crying—just a -headache. And, yes, Miss Mettleby would find a hiding-place for the -surprise. - -So Mrs. Fair went down to greet her guests, and when she had heard the -company go from the library to dinner, Miss Mettleby ran down to that -deserted room with the big, brown-paper parcel in her hands. She had -at once thought of the old Italian chest as the very place in which to -hide Mr. Fair’s surprise. She peeped into the library to make sure that -her ears had not deceived her. The room was empty, and the girl crept -in. - -Fearing that some of the footmen or other servants might enter, she -took the precaution to draw the portières across the door into the -passage and then hurriedly removed the books and other things that -Mr. Fair had placed upon the chest. This done, she was just going to -lift the lid, when she heard a peculiar hissing noise which would have -startled her at any time and which, with her nerves keyed up, now -filled her with genuine terror. She turned from the chest and listened. - - (_To be continued in the April number._) - - - - - _A Trust-Buster_ - - -COBWIGGER—By the way, my dear, I haven’t seen anything of the gas bill -this month. - -MRS. COBWIGGER—Oh, Henry, it came over a week ago, but it was -so much I didn’t dare show it to you for fear you would blame me for -being extravagant. Here it is. - -COBWIGGER (_looking at bill_)—Hoppity-hornets! What a bill -for a small family! I don’t blame you at all, my dear. It isn’t your -fault; it’s this grasping corporation. But I’ll get ahead of them all -right. - -MRS. COBWIGGER—How can you? - -COBWIGGER—Pshaw! It’s just like a woman to ask such a foolish -question. How am I going to get ahead of this monopoly? Why, tell the -old gas company to take out its meter. - -MRS. COBWIGGER—And then what will you do? - -COBWIGGER—Why, put in lamps and patronize the Standard Oil -Company. - - - _Kernels_ - -Many a politician who talks about an honest dollar never earned an -honest penny. - -If there wasn’t a sucker born every minute a lot of people in this -world would have to work for a living. - -The cost of keeping up appearances is usually defrayed with other -people’s money. - -The man whose mind moves like clockwork isn’t the fellow who has wheels -in his head. - -Many a politician would be a statesman if there were more money in it. - -The thought of work makes some people more tired than if they had -really done the work. - -The man who thinks that his money will do almost everything for him is -the one who did almost everything for his money. - -Marriage is the only union that doesn’t make a man keep regular hours. - - - _A Positive Proof_ - -“Are you sure that Percy really loves you?” - -“Positive. Why, at the dinner last night he offered to divide his last -dyspepsia tablet with me.” - - - - - _The Butcheries of Peace_ - - - BY W. J. GHENT - - _Author of “Our Benevolent Feudalism,” “Mass and Class”_ - -We hear much of the butchery of war. Mr. Edward Atkinson and his -fellow-anti-militarists are always opulent with statistics of -casualties in armed conflicts; and in their violent denunciation of -warfare are eagerly joined by the various peace societies, the Women’s -Christian Temperance unions and such militant, though ephemeral, -bodies as the Parker Constitutional Clubs. A prominent educator has -characterized the Civil War as the Great Killing, and the popular -imagination has been led to look upon it as a carnival of almost -unexampled bloodshed. The militarism of gun and sword is denounced as -though it were the greatest scourge of the race, and its horrors are -pictured in the most lurid colors. - -The horrors of _industrial_ militarism, on the other hand, claim but -scant attention. Under our present civilization, dominated by the -ethics of the trading class, they are, by the overwhelming mass of -the people, taken as a matter of course. And yet the fiercest and -bloodiest of modern wars—excepting alone the present Russo-Japanese -conflict—result in smaller losses in deaths, maimings and the -infliction of mortal diseases than are caused by the ordinary -processes of the capitalist system of industry. A modern Milton might -appropriately remind us that - - Peace hath her butcheries no less renowned than war. - -If the Civil War is to be regarded as the Great Killing, it must be so -regarded only in relation to other wars; for in comparison with -capitalist industry as it obtains in the United States of America in -this decade, the Civil War can only rightly be regarded as the Lesser -Killing. It lasted, moreover, for but four years; while the killings -and other casualties of our industrial militarism go on year after -year in an ever-increasing volume. And as the Civil War eliminated the -physically best of the race, so does the present system of industry -eliminate the physically best. Only it does not stop there, but takes -also the helpless and the weak. - -Let us see what comparisons of casualties can be made. According to -the figures in the Adjutant-General’s office, the fatalities in the -Northern Army during the four years of the Civil War (exclusive of -deaths from disease) were as follows: - - Killed in battle 67,058 - Died of wounds 43,012 - Other causes 40,154 - ------- - Total 150,224 - Yearly average 37,556 - -There were also 199,720 soldiers who died of disease. There are no -means of comparing the number of these fatalities with the fatalities -from disease contracted in dangerous and unsanitary occupations. It is -probable that they do not approximate one-tenth of the latter. But, -since there are no available figures for comparison, they must be -omitted from present consideration. - -The losses of the Confederates will never be known. The records of -their armies were but imperfectly kept, and such as were properly made -were in many instances lost or destroyed. Even the strength of -the Confederate armies is a matter about which there has been an -unceasing dispute between Northern and Southern historians since the -Civil War. It is not to be doubted that the Confederates suffered -a greater mortality relative to their numerical strength than did -the Federals, for they were employed to the last available man on -the firing line, whereas hundreds of thousands of Federals, held as -reserves or stationed as guards, rarely saw the action of battle. In -certain engagements, moreover, such as the battle of Chickamauga, -the Confederate losses far exceeded the Federal losses. Assuming the -purely arbitrary figure of 65 per cent. of the Federal fatalities as -representing the fatalities of the Confederates (exclusive of deaths -from disease), we have a total of 97,645, or a yearly average of -24,411. Adding the figures for both sides we have an annual average of -62,112 fatalities occurring in a struggle to the death, wherein every -device, every energy which men can employ against one another for the -destruction of life were employed. - -When we come to the statistics of industrial fatalities, we find -something like the records of the Confederate armies. The figures are -notoriously, confessedly incomplete, and often so much so as to be -entirely misleading. Even the tables of railroad accidents compiled by -the Interstate Commerce Commission are known to show totals far below -the actual casualties. A writer in the New York _Herald_ for December -4, 1904, has analyzed some of these tables and pointed out their -defects. But, defective as they are, they furnish an approximate basis -for comparisons with some of the sanguinary conflicts of the Civil War. -The killings on interstate roads for the year ended June 30, 1904, are -reported at 9,984; the woundings at 78,247. The State roads probably -added about 975 killings and 7,500 woundings. To these may be added the -casualties on the trolley lines, approximately 1,340 killed and 52,169 -wounded. We have thus a basis for comparison with the losses at -Gettysburg, Chancellorsville and Chickamauga: - - _Losses in Three Battles (both sides), 1863_ - - Killed Wounded - Gettysburg 5,662 27,203 - Chickamauga 3,924 23,362 - Chancellorsville 3,271 18,843 - ------ ------ - 12,857 69,408 - - _Losses in Railroad Accidents, 1904_ - - Killed Wounded - Interstate roads 9,984 78,247 - State roads *975 7,500 - Trolley lines *1,340 52,169 - ------ ------- - 12,299 137,916 - *Estimated. - -The factories probably destroy more lives than do the railroads. But -the figures are not obtainable. The statistics of factory casualties -given in Bulletin No. 83 of the Census Bureau are ridiculous. Were the -factories placed under a Federal supervision law, and were their owners -compelled to report accidents to the authorities, a vastly different -condition would be revealed. For the coal mines, on the other hand, we -have something like authentic figures. The United States Geological -Survey reports the casualties in mining coal for the year 1901 as -1,467 killed and 3,643 wounded. Except for the low ratio of wounded -to killed, this would make a fair comparison with any one of a number -of important engagements during the Civil War. Pennsylvania alone -furnished an industrial Bull Run. - - _Battle of Bull Run, 1861_ - - Killed Wounded - Federals 470 1,071 - Confederates 387 1,582 - ---- ----- - Total 857 2,653 - - _Pennsylvania Coal Mines, 1901_ - - Killed Wounded - Anthracite 513 1,243 - Bituminous 301 656 - ---- ----- - Total 814 1,899 - -When we pass from the record of particular industries to the general -casualty record we are met by a mass of unintelligible figures. -Bulletin No. 83 gives the rate of fatal accidents in the cities wherein -registration is required as 100.3 in each 100,000 of population. -For the whole registration record the rate is 96.3. On a basis of -80,000,000 population this would mean a yearly loss of from 77,040 to -80,240 lives. Mr. Frederick L. Hoffman, of the Prudential Insurance -Company, in a letter printed in Mr. Robert Hunter’s recent volume, -“Poverty,” estimates the rate as between 80 and 85 per 100,000. This -would mean from 64,000 to 68,000 killings. “If we say that twenty-five -are injured to every one killed, and consider ... the fatal accident -rate to be 80 in every 100,000, we have it that 1,664,000 persons -are annually killed or more or less seriously injured in the United -States. If all minor accidents were taken into consideration, it is -probable that the ratio of non-fatal accidents to fatal accidents would -be nearly 100 to 1.” This would mean approximately 4,800,000 minor -woundings every year. - -We cannot separate, on the basis of present figures, the fatal -accidents which would be inevitable under any form of society and those -which are consequent upon the present capitalist system of production, -with its brutal indifference to life. We can only estimate. We have, -for instance, in the census reports, an entry of “burns and scalds,” -but nothing about boiler explosions; we have a certain number of -deaths from drowning, but we are not told whether they occurred in -frightful disasters like mine floods or the destruction of a _General -Slocum_—for which capitalist industry is solely responsible—or -in accidents wherein the individual’s whim or caprice alone was -responsible. And finally we have an appalling record of suicides; but -in how many of these business troubles or other economic causes were -the impelling motives for self-destruction we cannot tell. - -What we do know is that the overwhelming number of the fatalities -that all of us learn of, instance by instance, are due to economic -causes; that railroad, factory and mining accidents are for the most -part needless, and due almost entirely to the brutal indifference of -capital to the lives of the workers, and that far the greater number of -suicides of which we read or hear are of beings who have been sent to -death through economic troubles. Under the benign reign of capitalist -industry we have a yearly list of fatalities somewhere between 64,000 -and 80,240 and of serious maimings of 1,600,000, whereas two great -armies, employing all the enginery of warfare, could succeed in -slaughtering only 62,112 human beings yearly. - -It is time we heard less of the butchery of war; time we heard more -of the butchery of peace. And yet it is doubtful if we shall hear a -different strain from those now most prominently before the public as -advocates of peace. The advocacy of peace, in so far as it emanates -from the retainers and other beneficiaries of the capitalist class, is -based not so much upon humanitarian grounds as upon the ground that the -worker is serving a more useful purpose when mangled in the Holy War -of Trade than when slaughtered in armed conflict. It is the waste of -profits on human labor, rather than the waste of life, that most deeply -affects them. They are not always conscious of this, because they -instinctively identify their moral notions with the material interests -of the class they serve. But an unconscious or subconscious motive may -be the most powerful of impulses to speech and action. And thus there -is every reason to believe that we shall continue to hear the horrors -of war most loudly denounced by the very ones who keep most silent -regarding the horrors of industrial “peace.” - - * * * * * - -It is curious how fond men grow of each other when they are making money -together. - - - - - _Remembered_ - - - BY ELLA WHEELER WILCOX - - His art was loving. Eros set his sign - Upon that youthful forehead, and he drew - The hearts of women, as the sun draws dew. - Love feeds love’s thirst as wine feeds love of wine. - Nor is there any potion from the vine - Which makes men drunken, like the subtle brew, - Of kisses crushed by kisses; and he grew - Inebriated with that draught divine. - - Yet in his sober moments, when the sun - Of radiant summer paled to lonely fall - And passion’s sea had grown an ebbing tide, - From out the many Memory singled one - Full cup that seemed the sweetest of them all— - The warm, red mouth that mocked him and denied! - - - - - _Martyrdom_ - - - BY LEONARD CHARLES VAN NOPPEN - - The world cries loud for blood; for never grew - One saving truth that blossomed, man to bless, - That withered not in barren loneliness - Till watered by the sacrificial dew. - Behold the prophets stoned—the while they blew - A warning blast—the sad immortal guess - Of Socrates—the thorn-crowned lowliness - Of Christ! And that black cross our Lincoln knew! - ’Tis only through the whirlwind and the storm - That man can ever reach his starry goal; - Someone must bleed or else the world will die. - Upon the flaring altar of reform - Some heart lies quivering ever. To what soul - That dares be true, comes not the martyr’s agony? - - - - - _The Debt_ - -BORROWBY—By Jove, old man! I owe you an everlasting debt of gratitude! - -GRIMSHAW—No, you don’t, Borrowby! You owe me fifty dollars in -money. - - - - - _The Heroism of Admiral Guldberg_ - - THE MOST AMAZING NAVAL BATTLE EVER FOUGHT - - - BY ROBERT BARR - -We must not allow the thunder of the guns around Port Arthur to deaden -our ears to accounts of heroism in the past. Other admirals have -attacked fortified strongholds before Togo was heard of. Other admirals -have striven for the command of the sea before Alexieff blundered into -a war for which he was not ready. I record the capable strenuousness of -Admiral Guldberg, who strove to defend a country not his own, and did -the best he could with the materials provided him. - -Ajax defied the lightning, and Guldberg defied the French, possessors -of the second most powerful navy afloat. Therefore three cheers for old -Guldberg and more power to his elbow. - -A dozen years ago, when Siam resolved to take its place among the -great nations of the earth, that country imported from Europe certain -men who were supposed to know how to do things. An Englishman from -Oxford endeavored to evolve a school system; a German from Krupp’s -establishment was made head of the Royal railway department, although -there were no railways at that time in the country to look after; -still, as there was no education either, he started fair with the -Englishman. Another German looked after telegraphs, and he also had a -clean slate to begin on. The reconstruction of the army and navy was -intrusted to the care of a pair of Danes, notable fighters of yore and -master mariners, as all the world knows. Commodore de Richelieu had -been a Danish officer, and it would have astonished the cardinal of -that name to have seen him fighting against the French. De Richelieu -had charge of the forts, and the training of the men to defend them. -Admiral Guldberg commanded the fleet, and endeavored with indifferent -success to teach the Siamese something about navigation. - -In 1893, while these useful Danes were endeavoring to put some backbone -into Siamese incompetency, the diplomatic services of France and Siam -began sending picture post-cards to each other. Diplomacy is invariably -polite, but when it takes a hand in the game, prepare for squalls. -Although I have the Blue-books before me relating to this tragic -occurrence, I am quite unable to determine the rights of the case. -Probably France and Siam were both in the wrong, but be that as it may, -France persisted in her intention, little dreaming that right round the -bend of the river Admiral Guldberg was waiting for her. The rights and -wrongs in these affairs depend a great deal on the power of the other -party. - -I imagine if France wished to send two gunboats up the Hudson River, -and the President of the United States ordered the war vessels to -proceed no further than New York Bay, France might perhaps have -considered herself in the wrong, and the war vessels would not have -proceeded; but as the other party in the case under consideration was -merely the helpless kingdom of Siam, it is a historical fact that the -two members of the French fleet, _Inconstant_ and _Comète_, crossed the -Rubicon; in other words, the bar—and entered the River Me-nam against -the current and the wishes of His Majesty of Siam; and this took place -on that unlucky day, the thirteenth of July, 1893. - -Paknam was the Port Arthur in this instance. It lies three miles from -the mouth of the river and thirty miles by water south of the capital, -Bangkok, although on the opposite bank of the stream a railway sixteen -miles in length runs into the capital. At Paknam everything was -prepared for a desperate resistance. The forts were well manned and the -cannon were loaded. Commodore de Richelieu was in command, glad that -diplomacy had broken down, as it usually does, and that now military -renown was to be his. The Siamese soldiers have one defect: they -believe in the couplet that “he who fights and runs away will live to -fight another day.” Indeed, they better the lines, and run away before -even showing fight. Thus, in all the wars Siam has engaged in she has -never lost a man, just as if she were the Cunard line of steamers. - -When the Siamese soldiers realized that their gallant Commodore was -actually going to fire off the guns, they unanimously got over the -garden wall with a celerity that amazed the man from Denmark. Nothing -daunted, the resolute de Richelieu held the fort, and himself fired off -the guns one after another. When this cannonade had been accomplished -he was helpless, for he could not reload without assistance, so he got -himself into a steam launch, sailed across the river and took train to -Bangkok. - -Authorities differ as to the result of the Commodore’s cannon fire. One -says that several Frenchmen were killed and wounded, another that no -harm was done. So far as I am aware the French gunboat made no reply, -but steamed majestically up the river, while their enemy was steaming -with equal majesty on a special engine over the rocky road to Bangkok. - -While the French fleet was proceeding toward a peril of which they had -not the slightest suspicion, we have time to consider the equipment of -Admiral Guldberg, who will not be so easily got rid of as his -countryman, the Commodore. - -Three years before there had been built at Hong Kong a steam yacht for -His Excellency the Governor of the Philippines, which at that time -was under Spanish rule. When the yacht was finished the Governor of -course wanted it, but wished to pay on the instalment plan, whereas -the builders said they were not engaged in the three years’ hire -system business, and having some acquaintance with Spanish financial -arrangements, they declined to deliver the goods except on a basis -of cash down. Such a hard money determination was enough to knock -the bottom out of any negotiation with a Spanish official, so the -Governor folded his toga proudly about him, and in the purest Castilian -practically repeated the words of the old song to the effect that the -yacht might go to Hong Kong for him, which it did not need to do, being -there already. So in Hong Kong it remained, until in ’91 an emissary of -the Siamese Government bought it, and took it round to Bangkok. - -The Siamese armed this terrific vessel with old muzzle-loading cannons -that had hitherto occupied the position of corner posts of various -compounds about the capital. The boat had been intended for pleasure -and not for war, so there were no portholes for the muzzles of the -guns. This difficulty was got over by building a low deck-house the -length of the vessel, and placing the cannon athwart this structure, -one pointing to port, another to starboard, another to port, another -to starboard, and so on, the ordnance being chained down, or roped or -tied with string, so that it would not cause the yacht to tumble a -somersault when fired. The arrangement had the advantage of economy, as -no gun-carriages were needed, and as the cannon could be loaded from -the deck. But there was also the drawback, which perhaps would have -been felt more in any other navy than that of Siam, which consisted of -the fact that you could not aim the cannon at anything in particular. -Still, a gunner might have much enjoyment in shooting at the landscape -in general. A British naval officer of large experience stated -solemnly that he never understood the horrors of warfare until he saw -this vessel. The arrangement of the cannon made the craft somewhat -top-heavy, and so the authorities wisely ordained that she was never to -put to sea where the waves might upset the apple cart. - -As if the cannon were not enough, her name was one likely to strike -terror into the heart of the stoutest enemy. She was called the _Makut -Rajakumar_, and she was listed in the naval annals of Siam as a small -cruiser. This sea-dog of war was the flagship of Admiral Guldberg, -commanded and captained by the Dane himself, with a full crew of -twenty-seven fighting Siamese, not to mention two engineers and four -stokers. - -The French pretend that two vessels opposed the coming of their two -warships, and while this is technically true, it is not actually so, -and as the statement tends to detract from the undoubted bravery of -Admiral Guldberg, it may as well be stated that the second vessel was -a small steam scow which carried only one gun, whose muzzle projected -overboard where the bowsprit is on a sailing vessel, and because -the gun was stationary there, chained there as were those on the -_Makut Rajakumar_, it could be loaded only when the scow was moored -to a wharf. This barge was commanded by Captain Schmieglow. His crew -deserted him in a body before she left the wharf, and as the good -Captain did not understand the engine he contented himself with firing -the cannon down the river, which concussion so dislocated the machinery -that the scow ran her nozzle agin’ the bank of the opposite shore, and -there the Captain was helpless. So his Admiral had to fight the battle -alone. - -Again French historians maintain that their warships never fired a shot -at the floating lunatic asylum which assailed them, and it is also -stated that the Admiral’s cannon balls never touched them. That may all -be true enough, but it in no way interferes with my assertion that -Admiral Guldberg did the very best he could with the material in hand, -and that he put up one of the finest fights ever recorded in the -history of the sea. - -And now we come to the battle, and as the French had a certain hand -in it, the stirring lines of French Canada’s poet, Dr. Drummond, may -fittingly be quoted to open the strife. - - One dark night on Lake St. Pierre, - The wind she blow, blow, blow; - And the crew of the wood scow _Julia Plante_ - Got scared and ran below. - -The unfortunate occurrence which ultimately wrecked the _Julia Plante_ -happened also on board the _Makut Rajakumar_. The moment the French war -vessels appeared the entire crew of the Siamese cruiser dived below, -bewailing their lot, and leaving Admiral Guldberg alone on deck. The -helmsman deserted the wheel, and the engineer his engine. The French -fleet was still some distance to the southward, so the Admiral rushed -after his craven crew, and kicked most of them aloft again, wild Danish -oaths from his lips keeping time to the energetic swaying of his foot, -commanding them to stand by the guns. It was no use; with a yell of -terror they again descended, falling over each other down into the -hold. The Admiral ran to the wheel, swerved his vessel; then let go the -spokes, seized a lighted torch, and fired the port side cannons one -after another. Back he dashed to the wheel again, turned his boat up -the river, for the Frenchmen were now passing him, fled again to the -unfired guns and gave the French the second broadside. - -Now, to his horror, he saw that the French ships, better engined than -his own, were leaving him without firing a shot, and from the prow he -shook his fist at them, daring them to stand up to him, but neither the -mouth of man nor the mouth of cannon made answer. - -Flinging his cocked hat to the deck, and tossing his laced coat on top -of it, rolling up his sleeves and seizing the rammer, he swabbed out -the old cannon, and reloaded, while the decrepit engine, unattended, -jogged away up the river after the rapidly disappearing French -warships. That task accomplished, he cast his eye ahead and saw the -river was clear, so sprang down into the stokehold, and sent a few -shovelfuls of coal under the boiler, then came on deck again wiping -his perspiring brow. By this time the French boats were quite out of -gunshot, and the only consolation left for the courageous Dane was that -at least he was chasing them. - -At this most inopportune moment there arose a galling and Gallic laugh -from a coasting schooner lying at anchor in the river. It is never -advisable to laugh at an exasperated man, as these hilarious mariners -were soon to learn. Slow as the _Makut_ was she could certainly -outstrip a small French coasting vessel at anchor. The angry Admiral -turned his red face toward the Sound, and saw before him the _J. B. -Say_, a French trading craft, tauntingly flying the tricolor at the -masthead. The infuriated Admiral remembered that his adopted country was -at war with this hated emblem, so he roared across the muddy waters: - -“Haul down that flag and surrender!” - -The crew replied with the French equivalent of “Go to thunder!” which -the Admiral at once proceeded to obey. He ran to the wheel, steered his -steamer in a semicircle, headed her down the river and sprang to the -guns. Thunder spoke out the first cannon, and missed. Thunder again the -second, with an after crash of woodwork, the ball carrying away part of -the bulwarks. - -“Stop it, you madman!” shrieked the crew. - -“Surrender!” roared the Admiral, but they were now working madly at the -windlass, trying to hoist the anchor. The _Makut Rajakumar_ had passed -the boat, and now the Admiral took to the wheel again, swooped around, -and came on with his other battery. The first shot struck fair in the -prow, and the second, to the consternation of the Frenchmen, hit just -at the waterline, tearing a fatal hole in the timber. The third shot -went wide, and the Admiral allowed his steamer to forge ahead while he -swabbed out the guns and reloaded them. - -By the time this was finished and he had turned round again the _J. B. -Say_ was under way, but with a dangerous list to one side. The steamer -speedily overtook her, and crash! crash! went the guns again, and once -more she was struck in a tender place, which was quite unnecessary, for -the craft was palpably sinking, in spite of the efforts of four men at -the pumps. - -At last the heated Admiral ceased fire, for the Frenchmen, taking -to the longboat, had abandoned their vessel, and were rowing for -the shore. The _J. B. Say_ with a wobble or two settled down and -disappeared beneath the surface of the muddy Me-nam. Admiral Guldberg -descended to the engine-room, stopped the engines, and kicked the -engineer into some sense of his duties aboard the cruiser. He informed -his huddled naval brigade, who were scared almost white by the firing, -that the Battle of Paknam had ended gloriously for the Siamese flag, -after which announcement he urged them on deck by means of boot and -fist. As there was nothing visible to frighten the crew, the Admiral -himself being the only object of terror in the neighborhood, discipline -once more resumed its sway. The engineer responded to the tinkle of the -bell, and the cruiser _Makut Rajakumar_ began pounding its way up to -the capital, pausing only to capture the French flag which fluttered -from the masthead of the sunken _J. B. Say_. - -Admiral Guldberg steamed in triumph to Bangkok, but had to take the -wheel himself when the town was sighted, for the moment his crew caught -a glimpse of the French cruiser floating peacefully in front of the -embassy, they promptly went below again, as was the custom of Sir -Joseph Porter when the breezes began to blow. - -It would be joyful to add that Admiral Guldberg received the -recognition he deserved, but it is hardly necessary to state that -such was not the fact. The Siamese Government apologized abjectly for -their Admiral and his action. They said he had fired without orders. -The Minister of Foreign Affairs congratulated the commander of the -French ship _Inconstant_ on his boldness and daring in forcing a way -to Bangkok. The owners of the _J. B. Say_ were lavishly compensated. -Admiral Guldberg was degraded to plain captain, and the government had -little difficulty in proving that no Siamese obstructed the advance of -the French, which statement was true enough. - - - - - _A Sociological Fable_ - - -There was trouble in the Poultry yard; things were Changed from the -way they had been, so that it was becoming Hard for some of the Fowls -to get a Sufficiency of Food. Just as much Corn was being Scattered -by the Farmer’s Wife as formerly, but some Knowing Cocks had built -Wide-mouthed Funnels over the Heads of the other Fowls, so that much of -the Supply that was intended for the Whole Community was diverted to the -Knowing Cocks and their Broods. - -There was much Discontent because of the Scarcity of Food and many -were the Plans that were Broached to remedy the Situation. “See!” said -a Great Goose, pointing to the Supplies that lay beneath the Funnels -of the Knowing Cocks, “how unjust it is that some should have so much -and others so little. The Knowing Cocks and their Broods can never use -up their supply, while I and my Green Goslings go Hungry. Can nothing -be done to help me?” he squawked, raising his Unseemly Voice in order -to attract general attention. “Can nothing be done for me and for my -family?” - -At this many Quacks began to be heard. One said that the Supplies of -the Knowing Cocks ought to be Seized and Distributed equally in the -Community; another said that the Knowing Cocks ought to be Forced to -Exchange their Corn with the other Fowls, in the Proportion of Sixteen -Grains of that Held by the Knowing Cocks to each grain belonging to the -other Fowls. And another insisted that the Only way to Right the Wrong -was to Compel the Knowing Cocks to Contribute to a Common Fund a large -Part of the Excess that Reached them through their Funnels. - -But at last a Sage Hen, that had somehow found her way into the -Community, succeeded in Making herself Heard: “Of what use is it,” -she Cried, “to ask how Many Pounds of Cure are needed, when one Ounce -of Prevention will Suffice? Let us Go to the Fountain Head of the -Wrong,” she continued, Pointing to the Funnels. “As long as Some of -the Community are Allowed to be in Possession of Undue Opportunities, -Evil must happen to the others. Take the Funnels away from the Knowing -Cocks!” - -No sooner said than Done. The Funnels were Seized and Destroyed; and -thereafter the Corn that fell from the Hand of the Farmer’s Wife was -Equitably distributed in the Community. - - MORAL - - If on the road a traveler lies - Fast bound—and you should see him— - Don’t take his head upon your lap - And give him medicine and pap, - But cut his cords and free him. - - F. P. WILLIAMS. - - - - - _The Old 10.30 Train_ - - - BY MARION DRACE - - - It’s raining out again tonight, - A dismal, pelting rain, - That drives against my window - With a dripping, and again - With a rattling stormy fury, - Sheets of water, waves of gray, - Made gruesome by the thunder - And the lightning’s livid play. - It brings to me the gloom of life, - An odd, most welcome pain, - And once again the whistle of the old 10.30 train. - - With all this storm without, and me - So silent here alone, - With all the distant past in view, - Its evil to atone; - With chin on hand, I wonder how - I’d feel if I could be - A boy again, with mother near - Me praying at her knee. - How all the cares of life would fade, - If I could hear again - From out my cot the whistle of the old 10.30 train. - - I hear it far departing - This gloomy night and me, - A-joying in the dying wail - From which it seems to flee. - The long, low cry is wafted back - Through night and rain and wind, - A cry that seems congenial like - Another soul that’s sinned. - It makes me long for home and for - My cot, so cleanly plain, - To doze just with the whistle of that old 10.30 train. - - Ah, life is not of solitude, - Nor childhood joys alone, - Its mirth not all departed, though - We reap the evil sown. - But nights of rain and solitude - Bring back the happy past— - The freight that came so regular - My eyes to close at last. - From all the now I quick would flee— - It seems so full of pain— - If I could sleep forever with that whistle’s wail again! - - - - - Gallows Gate - - BEING AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF DICK RYDER, - OTHERWISE GALLOPING DICK, - SOMETIME GENTLEMAN OF THE ROAD - - - BY H. B. MARRIOTT-WATSON - -’Twas two o’clock of a bright wild March day that I cleared St. -Leonard’s Forest, and came out upon the roads at the back of Horsham. -I was for Reading, but chose that way by reason of the better security -it promised, which, as it chanced, was a significant piece of irony. -Horsham, a mighty quiet, pretty town, lay in a blaze of the sun, -enduring the sallies of a dusty wind, and, feeling hot and athirst -after my long ride, I pulled up at an inn and dismounted. - -“Host,” says I, when I was come it; “a pint of your best Burgundy or -Canary to wash this dust adown; and rip me if I will not have it laced -with brandy.” - -“Why, sir,” says he, “a cold bright day for horseback,” and shakes his -head. - -“Damme, you’re right,” says I. “Cold i’ the belly and hot in the groin. -Here’s luck to the house, man,” and I tossed off the gallipot. “Why, -goodman, ye’ll make your fortune on this,” I said with a derisive -laugh, and flung open the door, to go out; when all of a sudden I came -to silence and a pause. - -“’Tis the officers,” says the landlord, who was at my ear. “Gadslife, -’tis the sheriff’s men from Lewes.” - -“Lewes!” says I slowly; “what be they here for?” - -“Why,” says he in a flutter, “there was him that was taken for a -tobyman by Guilford. He was tried at Lewes, and will hang.” - -“If he be fool enough to be taken, let him be hanged and be damned,” -says I carelessly. - -When I was got upon my horse I began to go at a walk down the High -street, for though, as was according to nature, I was inquisitive -about the matter, I was too wary to adventure ere I was sure of my -ground. And this denial of unnecessary hazards, as is my custom, saved -me from a mishap; for as the procession wound along, the traps and -the carriage between ’em, there was one of them that turned his head -aside to give an order, and, rip me if ’twas not that muckworm, traitor -and canter, the thief-taker, Timothy Grubbe. I had an old score with -Timothy, the which I had sworn to pay; but that was not the time nor -the opportunity, and so I pulled in and lowered my head, lest by chance -his evil eye might go my way. As I did so, something struck on the -mare’s rump, and, looking back, I saw a young man on horseback that had -emerged from a side street. - -“Whoa, there,” says I cheerfully. “Are you so blinded by March dust as -not to see a gentleman when he goes by?” - -He was a slight, handsome-looking youth, of a frank face but of a -rustic appearance, and he stammered out an apology. - -“Why, I did but jest,” I said heartily. “Think no more on’t, -particularly as ’twas my fault to have checked the mare of a sudden. -But to say the truth I was gaping at the grand folks yonder.” - -He stared, after the traps and says he in an interested voice: “Who be -they? Is it my Lord Blackdown?” - -Now this comparison of that wry-necked, pock-faced villain Grubbe to a -person of quality tickled me, but I answered, keeping a straight face. - -“Well, not exactly,” says I, “not my lord, but another that should -stand or hang as high maybe, and shall some day.” - -“Oh,” says he, gazing at me, “a friend of yours, sir?” - -He was a ruddy color, and his mouth was habitually a little open, -giving him an expression of perpetual wonder and innocence; so that, -bless you, I knew him at once for what he was at heart—a simple fellow -of a natural kindliness and one of no experience in the world, and a -pretty dull wit. - -“Not as you might call him, a friend,” said I gravely, “but rather one -that has put an affront upon me.” - -“You should wipe it out, sir,” says this innocent seriously. “I would -allow no man to put an affront on me, gad, I would not!” - -“Why,” said I drily, “I bide my time, being, if I may say so, of less -mustard and pepper than yourself. Nevertheless it shall be wiped out to -the last stain.” - -“Gad, I like that spirit,” says he briskly, and, as if it constituted -a bond betwixt us, he began to amble slowly at my side. “If there is -any mischief, sir,” says he, “I trust you will allow me to stand your -friend.” - -Here was innocence indeed, yet I could ha’ clapped him on the back for -a buck of good-fellowship and friendliness, and, relaxing my tone, I -turned the talk on himself. - -“You are for a journey?” says I. - -He nodded, and his color rose, but he frowned. “I am for Effingham,” he -answered. - -“So am I,” said I, “at least I pass that way,” which was not so, for -I was for Reading, and had meant to go by Guilford. Yet I was in no -mind to risk an encounter with Grubbe and his lambs, who were bound for -Guilford if what the innkeeper said was true; and the way by Effingham -would serve me as well as another. - -He looked pleased, and says he: “Why, we will travel in company.” - -“With all my heart!” - -The traps had disappeared upon the Guilford road in a mist of dust, and -we jogged on comfortably till we came to cross-roads, where we turned -away for Slinfold, reaching that village near by two of the clock. -Here my companion must slake his thirst, and I was nothing loath. He -had a gentlemanly air about him for all his rustic habit, and very -pleasantly, if with some awkwardness, offered me of a bottle. - -“You mind me,” said I, drinking to him, for I liked the fellow, “of a -lad that I knew that was in the wars.” - -“Was you in the wars?” asks he eagerly. - -I had meant the wars of the road, which, indeed, are as perilous and as -venturesome as the high quarrels of ravening nations. - -“I served in Flanders,” said I. - -“My father fought for His Gracious Majesty Charles I,” says he quickly, -“and took a deep wound at Marston Moor. There was never a braver man -than Squire Masters of Rockham.” - -“I’ll warrant his son is like him,” said I. - -He bowed as if he were at Court. “Your servant, sir,” says he, smiling -well pleased, and eyed me. “You have seen some service, sir?” - -“Why, as much as will serve, Mr. Masters.” - -He looked at me shyly. “You have my name, now?” said he, and left his -question in the air. - -“You may call me Ryder,” said I. - -“You have had your company?” he went on in a hesitating voice. - -“Not always as good company as this,” I replied, laughing. - -“I knew it,” he said eagerly; “you are Captain Ryder?” - -“There have been those that have put that style on me,” I answered, -amused at his persistence. - -“I am glad that I have met you, Captain,” said this young fool, and put -his arm in mine quite affectionately. - -“I have been unhappily kept much at home, and have seen less than I -might of things beyond the hills. Not but what Sussex is a fine shire,” -he adds, with a sigh. - -“Why, it is fine if so be your home be there,” I replied. - -“My home is there,” he said, and paused, and again the frown wrinkled -up his brow. - -He said no more till we were in the saddle again and had gone some half -a mile, and then he spoke, and I knew his poor brain had been playing -pitch and toss with some thought. - -“Captain Ryder,” he said abruptly, “you have traveled far and seen -much. You might advise one junior to you on a matter of worldly wisdom.” - -Sink me, thinks I, what’s the boy after? But, says I gravely, from a -mutinous face: “You can hang your faith on me for an opinion or a blow, -Mr. Masters.” - -“Thank you,” says he heartily, and then thrust a hand into his -bosom and rapidly stuck at me a document. “Read that, sir,” said he -impulsively. - -I opened it, and found ’twas writ in a woman’s hand, and subscribed -Anne Varley; and the marrow of it was fond affection. - -Why, ’twas but a common love billet he had given me, of the which I -have seen dozens and received very many—some from persons of quality -that would astonish you. But what had I to do with this honest ninny -and his mistress? I had no nose for it, and so said I, handing him back -his letter. - -“It has a sweet smack and ’tis pretty enough inditing.” - -“Ah,” says he quickly, “’tis her nature, Captain. ’Tis her heart that -speaks. Yet is she denied by her parents. They will have none of me.” - -“The more to their shame,” I said. - -“They aspire high,” says he, “as Anne’s beauty and virtues of -themselves would justify. Yet she does love me, and I her, and we are -of one spirit and heart. See you how she loves me, poor thing, poor -silly puss! And they would persuade her to renunciation. But she shall -not—she shall not; I swear it!” he cried in excitement. “She shall be -free to choose where she will.” - -“Spoke like a man of temper,” said I approvingly. “You will go win her -forthright.” - -“I am on my journey to accomplish that now,” says he. “She has writ -in this letter, as you have seen, that her father dissuades her, and -she sighs her renunciation, adding sweet words of comfort that her -affection will not die—no, never, never, and that she will die virgin -for me. Say you not, sir, that this is beautiful conduct, and, am I not -right to ride forth and seize her from her unnatural parents, to make -her mine?” - -“Young gentleman,” said I, being stirred by his honest sincerity and -his bubbling over, “were you brother to me, or I to Mistress Anne, you -should have my blessing.” - -At that he glowed, and his spirits having risen with this -communication, he babbled on the road of many things cheerfully, -but mostly of love and beauty, and the virtues of Mistress Anne of -Effingham Manor. - -I will confess that after a time his prattle wearied me; ’twas too much -honey and cloyed my palate. If he had known as much of the sex as has -fallen to my lot he would have taken another stand, and sung in a lower -key. - -Well, ’twas late in the afternoon when we reached the hills beyond -Ewhurst, and began to climb the rugged way to the top. The wind had -gone down with the sun in a flurry of gold in the west, to which that -eastern breeze had beat all day; and over the head of Pitch Hill last -year’s heather still blazed in its decay. - -When we had got to the Windmill Inn, that lies packed into the side of -the wooded hill, we descended for refreshment, and I saw the horses -stalled below for baiting. Now that house, little and quiet, perches -in a lonely way in the pass of the hill, and upon one side the ground -falls so fast away that the eye carries over a precipitous descent -toward the weald of Surrey and the dim hills by the sea. And this view -was fading swiftly in the window under a bleak sky as Masters and I -ate of our dinner in the upstairs room that looked upon it. He had a -natural grace of mind despite the rawness of his behavior, and his -sentiments emerged sometimes in a gush, as when, says he, looking at -the darkening weald: - -“I love it, Captain. ’Tis mine. My home is there, and, God willing, -Anne’s too shall be.” - -“Amen!” said I heartily, for the boy had gone to my heart, absurd -though he was. - -And just on that there was a noise without the door, the clank of heavy -feet rang on the boards, and Timothy Grubbe’s ugly mask disfigured the -room. - -He came forward a little with a grin on his distorted features, and, -looking from one to the other of us, said he: - -“My respects, Captain, and to this young plover that no doubt ye’re -plucking. By the Lord, Dick Ryder, but I had given you up. Heaven sends -us good fortune when we’re least thinking of it.” - -Masters, at his word, had started up. “Who are you, sir, that intrudes -on two gentlemen?” he demanded with spirit. “I’ll have you know this is -a private room. Get you gone!” - -“Softly, man,” says Grubbe, in an insinuating voice. “Maybe I’m wrong -and you’re two of a color. Is it an apprentice, Dick, this brave lad -that talks so bold and has such fine feathers?” - -“If you do not quit,” said I shortly, “I will spit your beauty for you -in two ticks.” - -“Dick Ryder had always plenty of heart,” said he in his jeering way. -“Dick had always a famous wit, and was known as a hospitable host. So I -will take the liberty to invite to his sociable board some good fellows -that are below, to make merry. We shall prove an excellent company, -I’ll warrant.” - -Masters took a step toward him. - -“Now, who the devil soever you may be, you shall not use gentlemen so,” -he cried, whipping out his blade. - -But Grubbe turned on him satirically. “As for you, young cockchafer,” -said he, “it bodes no good to find you in this company. But as you seem -simpleton enough, I’ll give you five minutes to take your leave of -this gentleman of the road. Dick, you’re a fine tobyman, and you have -enjoyed a brave career, but, damme, your hour is struck.” - -I rose, but, ere I could get to him, young Masters had fallen on him. - -“Defend yourself, damn ye,” he said, “you that insult a gentleman that -is my friend! Put up your blade!” and he made at him with incredible -energy. - -Uttering a curse Grubbe thrust out his point and took the first onrush, -swerving it aside; and ere I could intervene they were at it. - -My young friend was impetuous, and as I saw at once, none too skilful; -and Grubbe kept his temper, as he always did. He stood with a thin, -ugly smile pushing aside his opponent’s blade for a moment or two, -until, of a sudden, he drew himself up and let drive very low and under -the other’s guard. The sword rattled from Masters’s hand, and he went -down on the floor. I uttered an oath. - -“By God, for this shall you die, you swine!” said I fiercely; and I ran -at him; but, being by the door, he swept it open with a movement and -backed into the passage. - -“The boot is on t’other leg, Dick,” says he maliciously. “’Tis you are -doomed!” and closing the door behind him he whistled shrilly. - -I knew what he intended, and that his men were there, but I stooped -over the boy’s body and held my fingers to his heart. ’Twas dead and -still. I cursed Grubbe and started up. If I was not to be taken there -was only the window, looking on the deeps of the descending valley. I -threw back the casement and leaped over the sill. Grubbe should perish, -I swore, and I doubled now my oath. - -I could ha’ wept for that poor youth that had died to avenge my honor. -But my first business was my safety, and I crept down as far as I might -and dropped. By that time the catchpolls were crowding into the room -above. I struck the slanting hill and fell backward, but, getting to -my feet, which were very numb with the concussion of the fall, I sped -briskly into the darkness, making for the woods. - -I lay in their shelter an hour, and then resolved on a circumspection. -’Twas not my intention to leave the mare behind, if so be she had -escaped Grubbe and his creatures; and, moreover, I had other designs in -my head. So I made my way back deviously to the inn and reconnoitered. -Stillness hung about it, and after a time I marched up to the door -cautiously and knocked on it. - -The innkeeper opened it, and, the lamp burning on my face, started as -if I were the devil. - -“Hush, man!” said I. “Is the officer gone?” - -He looked at me dubiously and trembling. “Come,” said I, for I knew the -reputation of those parts, “I am from Shoreham Gap yonder, and I was -near taken for an offense against the revenue.” - -“You are a smuggler?” said he anxiously. “They said you were a tobyman.” - -“They will take away any decent man’s name,” said I. “I want my horse. -You have no fancy for preventive men, I’ll guess.” - -And this was true enough, for he had a mine of cellars under his inn -and through the roadway. - -“But your friend?” said he, still wavering. “Him that is dead——” - -“As good a man as ever rolled a barrel,” said I. - -He relaxed his grip of the door. “’Tis a sore business for me this -night,” he complained. - -“Nay,” said I. “For I will rid your premises of myself and friend, by -your leave, or without it,” says I. - -He seemed relieved at that, and I entered. The horses were safe, as I -discovered, for Grubbe must have been too full of his own prime -business to make search, and, getting them out, I made my preparations. -I strapped the lad’s body in the stirrups, so that he lay forward on -the horse with his head a-wagging; but (God deliver him!) his soul at -rest. And presently we were on the road, and threading the wilderness -of the black pine woods for the vale below toward London. - -The moon was a glimmering arc across the Hurtwood as I came out on the -back of Shere, and, pulling out of the long lane that gave entry to -the village, reined up by the “White Horse.” From the inn streamed a -clamor of laughter, and without the doorway and wellnigh blocking it -was drawn up a carriage with a coachman on his seat that struck my eyes -dimly in the small light. I was not for calling eyes on me with a dead -man astride his horse, so I moved into the yard, thinking to drain a -tankard of ale if no better, before I took the road over the downs to -Effingham. But I was scarce turned into the yard ere a light flaring -through the window poured on a face that changed all the notions in my -skull. ’Twas Grubbe! - -Leaving the horses by I returned to the front of the inn, and says I to -the coachman that waited there, as I rapped loud on the door: - -“’Tis shrewish tonight.” - -“Aye,” says he in a grumbling, surly voice. “I would the country were -in hell.” - -“Why, so ’twill be in good time,” said I cheerfully; and then to the -man that came, “Fetch me two quarts well laced with gin,” says I, “for -to keep the chill of the night and the fear o’ death out.” - -The coachman laughed a little shortly, for he knew that this was his -invitation. - -“Whence come you then?” said I, delivering him the pot that was fetched -out. - -He threw an arm out. “Lewes,” said he, “under charge with a tobyman -that was for chains yonder.” - -He nodded toward the downs and drank. I cast my eyes up and the loom of -the hill just t’other side of the village was black and ominous. - -“Oh,” says I, “he hangs there?” - -“At the top of London Road,” says he, dipping his nose again. “There -stands the gallows, where the roads cross and near the Gate.” - -“Gallows Gate,” said I, laughing. “Well, ’twas a merry job enough.” - -“Aye,” says he. “But by this we might ha’ been far toward London Town, -whither most of us are already gone. But ’twas not his wish. He must -come back with the Lewes sheriff and drink him farewell.” - -“Leaving a poor likely young man such as yourself to starve of cold and -a empty belly here,” said I. “Well, I would learn such a one manners in -your place, and you shall have another tankard of dogs-nose for your -pains,” says I, whereat I called out the innkeeper again, but took care -that he had my share of the gin in addition to his own. By that time -he was garrulous, and had lost his caution, so, keeping him in talk a -little and dragging his wits along from point to point, I presently -called to him. - -“Come down,” said I, “and stamp your feet. ’Twill warm you without as -the liquor within.” And he did as I had suggested without demur. - -“Run round to the back,” says I, “and get yourself a noggin, and if -so be you see a gentleman on horseback there asleep, why, ’tis only a -friend of mine that is weary of his long journey. I will call you if -there be occasion.” - -He hesitated a moment, but I set a crown on his palm, and his scruples -vanished. He limped into the darkness. - -’Twas no more than two minutes later that I heard voices in the -doorway, and next came Timothy Grubbe into the night, in talk with -someone. At which it took me but thirty seconds to whip me into the -seat and pull the coachman’s cloak about me, so that I sat stark and -black in the starlight. Grubbe left the man he talked with and came -forward. - -“You shall drink when ye reach Cobham, Crossway,” says he, looking up at -me, “and mind your ways, damn ye!” - -And at that he made no more ado, but humming an air he lurched into the -carriage. I pulled out the nags, and turned their heads so that they -were set for the north. And then I whistled low and short—a whistle I -knew that the mare would heed, and I trusted that she would bring her -companion with her. The wheels rolled out upon the road and Timothy -Grubbe and I were bound for London all alone. - -As I turned up the London road that swept steeply up the downs I looked -back, and behind the moon shone faintly on Calypso and behind her on -the dead man wagging awkwardly in his stirrups. - -I pushed the horses on as fast as might be, but the ruts were still -deep in mud, and the carriage jolted and rocked and swayed as we went. -The wind came now with a little moaning sound from the bottom of the -valley, and the naked branches creaked above my head, for that way was -sunken and tangled with the thickets of nut and yew. And presently I -was forced to go at a foot pace, so abrupt was the height. The moon -struck through the trees and peered on us, and Grubbe put his head -forth of the window. - -“Why go you not faster, damn ye?” says he, being much in liquor. - -“’Tis the hill, your honor,” said I. - -He glanced up and down. - -“What is it comes up behind?” says he, shouting. “There is a noise of -horses that pounds upon the road.” - -“’Tis the wind,” says I, “that comes off the valley and makes play -among the branches.” - -He sank back in his seat, and we went forward slowly. But he was -presently out again, screaming on the night. - -“There is a horseman behind,” says he. “What does he there?” - -“’Tis a traveler, your honor,” says I, “that goes, no doubt, by our -road, and is bound for London.” - -“He shall be bound for hell,” says he tipsily, and falls back again. - -The horses wound up foot by foot and emerged now into a space of better -light, and I looked around, and there was Grubbe, with his head through -the window and his eyes cast backward. - -“What fool is this,” says he, “that rides so awkwardly, and drives a -spare horse? If he ride no better, I will ask him to keep me company, -if he be a gentleman. Many gentlemen have rode along of me, and have -rode to the gallows tree,” and he chuckled harshly. - -“Maybe he will ride with you to the Gallows Gate, sir,” says I. - -“Why, Crossway,” says he, laughing loudly, “you have turned a wit,” and -once more withdrew his head. - -But now we were nigh to the top of the down, and I could see the faint -shadow of the triple beam. With that I knew my journey was done, and -that my work must be accomplished. I pulled to the horses on the rise, -and got down from my seat. - -“Why d’ye stop, rascal?” called Grubbe in a fury, but I was by the door -and had it opened. - -“Timothy Grubbe,” said I, “ye’re a damned rogue that the devil, your -master, wants and he shall have ye.” - -He stared at me in a maze, his nostrils working, and then says he in a -low voice: “So, ’tis you.” - -“Your time has come, Timothy,” said I, flinging off my cloak, and I -took my sword. “Out with you, worm.” - -He said never a word, but stepped forth, and looked about him. He was -sobered now, as I could see from his face, which had a strange look on -it. - -“Ye’re two rascals to one, Dick,” says he slowly, looking on the dead -man on his horse which had come to a stop in the shadows. - -“No,” says I, “this gentleman will see fair play for us.” - -Grubbe took a step backward. “Sir,” says he, addressing the dead -man—but at that moment Calypso and her companion started, and came -into the open. - -The moon shone on the face of the dead. Grubbe uttered a cry, and -turned on me. His teeth showed in a grin. - -“No ghost shall haunt me, Dick,” says he. “Rather shall another ghost -keep him company,” and his wry neck moved horribly. - -I pointed upward where the tobyman hung in chains, keeping his flocks -by moonlight. “There’s your destiny,” said I. “There’s your doom. Now -defend, damn ye, for I’ll not prick an adder at a disadvantage.” - -He drew his blade, for no man could say that Timothy Grubbe, -time-server and traitor as he was, lacked courage. Suddenly he sliced -at me, but I put out and turned off the blow. - -“If you will have it so soon,” said I, “in God’s name have it,” and I -ran upon him. - -My third stroke went under his guard, and I took him in the midriff. He -gave vent to an oath, cursed me in a torrent, and struck at me weakly -as he went down. - -He was as dead as mutton almost ere he touched the ground. - -I have never been a man of the church, nor do I lay any claim to own -more religion than such as to make shift by when it comes to the -end. No, nor do I deny that I have sundry offenses on my conscience, -some of which I have narrated in my memoirs. But when it comes to a -reckoning I will make bold to claim credit in that I rid the world he -had encumbered of Timothy Grubbe—the foulest ruffian that ever I did -encounter in the length of my days on the road. - -I climbed the beam and lowered the poor tobyman, and it took me but a -little time to make the change. The one I left where he had paid the -quittance in the peace of the earth, and t’other a-swinging under the -light of the moon on Gallows Gate. - -I have said my journey was done, but that was not so. There was more -for me to do, which was to deliver poor Masters at his lady-love’s and -break the unhappy news. And so, leaving the carriage where it stood -with the patient horses that were cropping the grass, I mounted the -mare and began to go down the long limb of the downs to the north. - -’Twas late—near midnight—when I reached Effingham and found my way -to the manor. I rapped on the door, leaving Calypso and t’other in the -shadows of the house, and presently one answered to my knock. - -“What is it?” says she. - -“’Tis a stranger,” says I, “that has news of grave import for Mistress -Anne Varley, whom I beg you will call.” - -“She cannot hear you,” said she. “’Tis her wedding night.” - -“What!” said I in amazement, and instantly there flowed in on me the -meaning of this. - -“Curse all women save one or two!” thinks I. And I turned to the maid -again with my mind made up. - -“Look you, wench,” said I. “This is urgent. I have an instant message -that presses. And if so be your mistress will bear with me a moment and -hold discourse, I’ll warrant she shall not regret it—nor you,” says I, -with a crown piece in my palm. - -She hesitated and then, “Maybe she will refuse,” says she. “She hath -but these few hours been wed.” - -“Not she,” said I, “if you will tell her that I bring good news, great -news—news that will ease her spirit and send her to her bridal bed -with a happy heart.” - -At that she seemed to assent, and with my crown in her hand she -disappeared into the darkening of the house. It must have been some ten -minutes later that a light flashed in the hall and a voice called to me. - -“Who is it?” it asked, “and what want you at this hour?” - -I looked at her. She was of a pretty face enough, rather pale of color, -and with eyes that moved restlessly and measured all things. Lord, I -have known women all my life in all stations, and I would ha’ pinned -no certainty on those treacherous eyes. She was young, too, but had an -air of satisfaction in herself, and was in no wise embarrassed by this -interview. I had no mercy on her, with her oaths of constancy writ in -water that figured to be tears and her false features. - -“Madam,” said I civilly, “I hear you’re wed today to a gentleman of -standing.” - -“What is that to you, sir?” she asked quickly. - -“’Tis nothing, for sure,” said I, “but to a friend of mine that I value -deeply ’tis much.” - -“You speak of Mr. Masters,” said she sharply, and with discomposure. -“Sure, if he be a gentleman, he will not trouble me when he knows.” - -“Anne!” said a voice from the top of the stairs, “Anne!” - -’Twas her bridegroom calling. Well, she should go to him in what mood -she might when I had done with her. - -“He will never know,” says I, “unless he hear it from yourself.” - -“Anne!” said the voice above the stairs. - -“He shall not—I will not,” she cried angrily. “I will not be -persecuted. ’Twas all a mistake.” - -I whistled. Calypso emerged from the night, and behind Calypso was -the horse with its burden. An anxious look dawned in her face. “I am -insulted,” says she and paused quickly. - -“Edward!” she called, and put a hand to her bosom. - -“Anne, darling!” cried the voice, “where are you? Come, child, ’tis -late.” - -The horse came to a stop before the door with the body on the saddle, -bound to the crupper. - -“What is it?” she cried in alarm, and suddenly she shrieked, -recognizing what was there. “It is an omen—my wedding night!” - -“Aye,” says I, “which be your bridegroom, he that calls or he that is -silent? Call on him and he hears not.” - -Peal after peal went up now from her, and the house was awake with -alarm. I turned away, leaving her on the doorstep, and mounted the mare. - -As I cantered off into the night I cast a glance behind me, and a group -was gathered at the door, and in that group lay Mistress Anne fallen in -a swoon, with the sleeping figure on the horse before her. - - - - - _The Judge and the Jack Tar_ - - - BY HENRY H. CORNISH - - It’s like this here, Your Honor, see? - As near as I can tell, - A gentleman hired my boat, and he - Was quite a proper swell. - He brought a lady down with him - To make a longish trip - And so we scrubbed her thoroughly— - - _Judge_—The lady? - _Tar_—No! The ship - - Well—cutting off my story short - To come to what befell - We started, but put back to port - Which much annoyed the swell. - She fell between two waterways - And got a nasty nip, - So we rigged her out with brand-new stays— - - _Judge_—The lady? - _Tar_—No-o! The ship. - - At last we put to sea again - And started for the west, - All spick and span without a stain - When all at once, I’m blest, - Her blooming timbers got misplaced, - Which quite upset the trip, - The water washed around her waist— - - _Judge_—The lady’s? - _Tar_ (_nodding_)—And the ship’s. - - That’s all, I think, Your Honor, now, - I’ll state to you my claim. - Five hundred dollars, you’ll allow, - Won’t build her up the same. - Her rudder’s gone, her nose is broke, - Her flag I’ve had to dip - She’s lying now upon the mud— - - _Judge_—The lady? - _Tar_—No-o-o-o! The ship. - - - - - _Object, Matrimony_ - - - BY CAROLINE LOCKHART - -With a turn of his red wrist, Porcupine Jim guided his horse in and -out among the badger holes which made riding dangerous business on -the Blackfoot Reservation. Perplexity and discontent rested upon -Porcupine’s not too lofty brow. Though he looked at the badger holes -and avoided them mechanically, he saw them not. - -“Would you tank, would you tank,” he burst out finally in a voice which -rasped with irritation, “dat a girl like Belle Dashiel would rudder -have dat pigeon-toed, smart-Aleck breed dan me?” - -Porcupine’s pinto cayuse threw back one ear and listened attentively to -the naïve conceit of his rider’s soliloquy. - -“Look at me!” demanded Porcupine, changing the reins to his left hand -that he might make a more emphatic gesture with his right. “A honest -Swede, able to make fifteen dollars a day at my trade. Me as has -sheared sheep from Montany to the Argentine Republic, gittin’ bounced -for dat lazy half-breed dat can’t hold a yob two mont’!” - -Porcupine’s thoughts upon any subject were not varied, and he burst -forth at intervals with a reiteration of the same idea until he came -to the ridge where he could look down upon the house of Dashiel, the -squaw-man, who kept a sort of post office in a soapbox. - -Porcupine had come twenty-five miles for his mail. Not that he expected -any, but to be gibed at by Belle Dashiel had the same fascination for -him that biting on a sore tooth has for a small boy. Gradually the -knowledge had come to his slow-working mind that the half-breed girl’s -interest in him rose solely from the fact that John Laney was his -partner in the assessment work which they were doing in the mountains -on a tenderfoot’s copper claim. - -Laney’s father had been an Irish steamboat captain on Lake Superior, -his mother, a Chippewa squaw, and the cross had produced an unusual -type. The Indian blood which keeps a half-breed silent and shy before -strangers had no such effect upon Laney. His prowess was his theme and -his vanity was a byword on the Reservation. He obtained his fashions -from the catalogue of a wholesale house in Chicago which furnishes the -trusting pioneer with the latest thing in oil drills or feather boas. -It was common belief that Laney’s high celluloid collar would some day -cut his head off. - -Laney’s waking hours were spent in planning schemes of primitive -crudeness whereby he might acquire affluence without labor. In his -dreams the tenderfoot tourist was generally the person who was to -remove him from penury. - -“Hello, Porcupine!” called Belle Dashiel, coming to the door with a -pink bow pinned on a pompadour of amazing height. - -“Hullo yourself!” replied Porcupine, elated at his ready wit and the -cordiality in her voice. - -“How’s John?” - -The smile faded from his face. - -“Good ’nough,” he replied shortly. - -“When’s he comin’ down?” - -“Dunno. Any mail for me?” - -“A letter and a paper.” - -“Who could be writin’ to me?” - -Porcupine looked surprised. - -“Didn’t you expect nothin’?” Belle Dashiel’s eyes shone mischievously. - -“Yass, I tank, mebby.” A deeper red spread over the Swede’s sunburned -face. - -He opened his letter and spelled it out laboriously, his chest heaving -with the effort. - -“A man over in Chicago he tank I’m in turrible need of a pianny,” he -said in disgust, as he put the circular in the stove. - -Porcupine lingered till the chill of the night air crept into the -sunshine of the September day. Then he put spurs to his patient cayuse -and hit the trail which led into the fastnesses of the Rockies. - -The light was not quite gone when he happened to think of the -paper he had thrust in his coat-pocket. There might be news in it! -Bacon-Rind-Dick had told Two-Dog-Jack that there was a war over in -Jay-pan. Porcupine removed the wrapper and the words _Wedding Chimes_ -stared him in the face. - -As he read, he laid the reins on his horse’s neck and let the pinto -pick his own road. The matrimonial sheet opened up a vista of romantic -adventures and possibilities of which the Swede had never dreamed. His -imagination, which naturally was not a winged thing, was fired until he -saw himself leading to his shack up the North Fork of the Belly River -the fairest and richest lady in the land. All he had to do was to send -five dollars to _Wedding Chimes_ and thus join their matrimonial club. -Upon the receipt of the five dollars, the editor would send him the -names and addresses of several ladies who were all young, beautiful, -wealthy and anxious to be married. He could open a correspondence with -one or all of them, and then choose for his bride the lady whose letter -appealed to him most. - -Porcupine strained his eyes reading descriptions of lily-white blondes -and dashing brunettes. When he could see no longer, he folded the -precious paper and buttoned it inside his coat. - -His cayuse was puffing up the steep mountain trail in the darkness of -the thick pines and spruces when Porcupine suddenly let out a yell -which startled the prowling lynx and made his pinto snort with fright. -It was a wild whoop of exultation. There had come to Porcupine one of -those rare revelations which have made men great. He fairly glowed -and tingled with the inspiration which had flashed upon him as though -someone had gone through his brain with a lantern. - -When he rode into camp, where Laney sat before the fire eating bacon -out of a frying-pan, Porcupine’s deep-set blue eyes were shining like -stars on a winter’s night. - -“Yass, I got de greatest ting in de mail you ever see, I tank!” - -Laney’s face expressed curiosity as the Swede sat down on a log and -turned his felt hat round and round upon his bullet-shaped head—a -trick he had when excited. With great deliberation and impressiveness -he produced the paper and handed it to Laney. Laney set the frying-pan -where his wolfhound could finish the bacon and opened the paper. - -“Young, beautiful, immensely rich; obj., mat.,” he read. Laney’s eyes -sparkled. He read for half an hour of successful weddings brought -about by the editorial Cupid. Porcupine at last roused him from his -absorption. - -“Laney, I got a scheme, I tank. I’ll join up with one of dem clubs -and you carry out de corryspondance with one of dem ladies. You are a -better scholar den me and write a pooty goot letter. Den, if it goes -all right, I’ll go and see her and tell her I ain’t exactly de man dat -done de writin’, but I’m just as goot. - -“’Tain’t no use for you to get into de club, because you are all the -same as promised to Belle Dashiel. Sure,” Porcupine went on, “Belle -ain’t rich nor beautiful like dem ladies in _Weddin’ Chimes_, but she’s -a goot little girl. - -“Old Dashiel ain’t got more dan fifty head of beef cattle, and dey say -he got a lot of runts in de last Govermint issue, but a ting like dat -don’t cut no ice if you’re stuck on de girl.” - -Laney moved uneasily and avoided Porcupine’s eyes. - -“Now for me,” continued the Swede, “I can marry any millionaire I want -to.” - - * * * * * - -As soon as the mails could get it there, the editor of _Wedding Chimes_ -received a neatly penciled and eloquent letter from one John Laney, -setting forth his especial needs and preferences, with considerable -stress laid upon the financial standing of the matrimonial candidates. - -The day the list was due Laney rode down for the mail. The eagerness -with which he took the letter from her hand did not escape Belle -Dashiel. - -“Got a new girl, John?” she asked lightly, though she watched his face -with suspicious eyes. - -“Perhaps,” replied Laney, and all her urging could not detain him. - -By the light of the camp-fire Laney and Porcupine studied the list of -names and addresses sent from the office of the matrimonial paper. - -“This a-here one suits me,” said Laney. “‘Mayme Livingston, Oak Grove, -Iowa.’ It’s a toney-sounding name.” - -“It’s me dat’s gittin’ married,” Porcupine suggested significantly. -“But Mayme’s all right, I tank. Go on ahead and write.” - -So Laney, with the assistance of a sheet of ruled notepaper and a lead -pencil which he moistened frequently in order to shade effectively, -composed a letter which he and Porcupine regarded not only as a model -of cleverness but an achievement from a literary point of view. The -legal tone which gave it dignity was much admired by Porcupine. The -letter read: - - BELLY RIVER, MONT. - MISS MAYME LIVINGSTON: - - DEAR MADAM: Whereas I have paid up five - dollars and have the priveledge of writing to any - lady on the list sent from the aforesaid matrimonial - paper, I, the undersigned, have picked out you, Miss - Mayme Livingston party of the first part, obj. mat. - - I am an American, five feet seven, and quite dark. - I am interested in copper mines and cattle. I can - ride anything that wears hair and last winter I - killed two silver-tips and a link. I am engaged - somewhat in trapping also. They say I am a tony - dresser and I can dance the Portland Fancy or any - dance that I see once. I play the juice-harp, mouth - organ and accordian. I have a kind disposition and - would make a good husband to any lady who had a - little income of her own. - - Let me hear from you as soon as you get this and - tell me what you think of my writing. - Respy. Yrs. - JOHN LANEY. - - In witness whereof that this letter is true I have - hereunto set my hand and fixed my seal. - Porcupine Jim X his mark. - -The days which followed the mailing of the above composition were -the longest Laney and Porcupine had ever known. They discussed Miss -Livingston until they felt they knew her. Porcupine thought she had -black eyes, black hair, was inclined to stoutness, but with a good -“figger.” - -The name of Livingston to Laney conjured up a vision of blonde -loveliness in red satin, slender, shapely, with several thousand -dollars in a handbag which she kept always with her. - -Miss Livingston’s letter came with delightful promptness. There was an -angry glow in Belle Dashiel’s Indian eyes as she handed the salmon-pink -envelope to Laney. - -“Who you writin’ to?” she demanded. - -“Business,” replied Laney bruskly, and strode out of the house. - -Porcupine, who had also come down, lingered a moment to tell her she -looked prettier each time that he saw her. - -Miss Livingston’s letter read: - - Mr. John Laney - deer sir. i take a few minutes to tell you how glad - i was to heer from you Away off in montana i have - not got Much Noos to rite but i will explain abot - Myself i am a suthoner and quite Dark to my Father - was a rice planter before the war which ruhined us - i hav a good Voice and sing in the Quire i danz - most evry Danc goin i have a Stiddy incom and make - hansom presints to annybody i Like if i met a perfect - Genelman i wold Marry him i cannot rite annymore - Today bekaws i hay Piz to make rite offen to - Miss Mayme Livingston - i think your Ritin is good i wish you wold send - your Fotegraf - - -Laney’s brow was clouded as he folded the letter. “She ain’t much of a -scholar,” he said. “You hardly ever see a scholar use little ‘i’s.’” - -“What differunce does dat make when she’s got a stiddy income?” replied -Porcupine quickly. “And den what she said about handsome presents. -Sure, she’s a hairess, I tank.” - -Laney brightened at these reminders, and immediately set about -composing another letter calculated to impress the wealthy, if -unlettered, Miss Livingston. - -“Dear madam,” soon developed into “Dearest Mayme,” and “deer sir” as -speedily became “darlig John,” and, with each salmon-pink envelope’s -arrival, Laney’s coolness toward Belle Dashiel became more marked. - -“Porcupine,” said Laney, who had begun to show some reluctance in -reading the correspondence to his partner, “the lady is gettin’ oneasy -to see me, and when we finish runnin’ that drift in the lead, I think -I’ll take a trip over to Iowa and see her.” - -“But where do I come in, mebby?” demanded Porcupine. - -“That’s what I’m goin’ for—to fix it up for you. Reely, Porcupine,” -and he looked critically at the rawboned Swede, whose hair stood up -like the quills on the animal from which he had received his sobriquet, -“it wouldn’t be right for you to break in on a lady without givin’ her -warning of what you was like.” - -“I know I ain’t pooty,” replied Porcupine unperturbed, “but I can make -fifteen dollars a day at my trade.” - -The tenderfoot’s assessment money went toward buying Laney a wardrobe -which almost any one of Laney’s relatives or friends would have killed -him in his sleep to possess. - -A jeweler, advertising in _Wedding Chimes_, received an order for a -one-hundred-and-fifty-dollar scarfpin, to be paid for in instalments. -Porcupine, whose nature was singularly free from envy, could not -but feel a pang when he saw the large horseshoe of yellow diamonds -glittering in Laney’s red cravat. - -Laney had read that no gentleman should think of venturing into -polite society without a “dress suit.” An order was sent for a -seventy-five-dollar suit of evening clothes to the Chicago firm from -whom they bought their mining tools. When the clothes arrived Laney -dressed himself in them one evening in their shack up the North Fork -of Belly River, and Porcupine’s face showed the admiration he felt, as -Laney strutted like a pheasant drumming on a log. - -Laney, who numbered among his accomplishments the ability to draw a -rose or a horse so that almost anybody would know what it was, gave -an original touch to his costume by purchasing at the Agency a brown -broad-brimmed felt hat and painting a red rose directly in front under -the stiff brim. - -When the drift was run and Laney’s wardrobe was complete, he and the -Swede set out across the Reservation to the railroad station. - -“Pardner,” said Porcupine as he looked wistfully at the broadcloth coat -with satin revers and the tail sloped away like a grasshopper’s wings, -“dey ain’t a friend you got, but me, dat would trust you to do their -courtin’ for them togged out like dat—sure, dat’s so!” - -There was a derisive glint in Laney’s small back eyes; he held the -slow-witted Swede in almost open contempt for his innocence. Porcupine -shook hands with him on the platform and wished him good luck. “You’ll -do your best for me, pard?” he asked anxiously. - -“Trust me,” replied Laney gaily, intoxicated by the attention he was -receiving from the tourists in the Pullman car. - -Porcupine stopped at Dashiel’s on his return. Belle Dashiel met him at -the door and her eyes were blazing. Without being able to define the -process of reasoning by which he arrived at the conclusion, Porcupine -felt that his brilliant plot stood an infinitely better show of success -that he did not find her in tears. - -“Where’s he gone at?” She stamped her moccasined foot imperiously. - -“I wouldn’t like to say,” replied Porcupine in a voice which denoted a -wish to shield his partner and yet a noble, if unusual, desire to tell -the truth. - -“Tell me!” she commanded, and she put her small hand on the big Swede’s -arm as though she would shake him. - -“I tank,” answered Porcupine meekly; “I dunno, but I tank he’s gone to -get married.” - -As Laney sat in the day coach in his evening clothes, his broad hat -tilted back from his coarse, swarthy face, a constant procession filed -through the aisle and every eye rested upon his smiling and complacent -countenance. He passed two restless nights sleeping with his head on -his patent-leather valise, and monotonous days eating peanuts and -slaking his thirst at the ice-tank in the corner of the car. The farther -he got from home, the more attention he attracted, which was some -recompense for the inconvenience he was enduring. - -He had plenty of time to decide a question which had much perplexed -him: Could he immediately address the lady as “Mayme” and kiss her -upon sight, or should he call her Miss Livingston and merely shake her -hand? If too demonstrative, he might frighten her—capital is shy, as -all men know. On the other hand, women resent coldness—now there was -Belle Dashiel. Something which, if developed, might have proved to be -a conscience, gave him a twinge, and he hastened to put the half-breed -girl from his thoughts. - -He reviewed the subject of his greeting from all possible sides, -and decided that, in view of the many endearing phrases which Miss -Livingston’s letters had contained and the neat border of “o’s,” -labeled “kisses,” which had ornamented her last letter, he could feel -reasonably safe in planting a chaste salute upon her trembling lips. -Also he wondered how long it would be before he could hint at a small -loan. - -When they returned from their bridal tour they would take the best room -in the hotel at the Agency, and he and work would be strangers ever -after. He would send to Great Falls for a top buggy, and buy a mate to -drive with his brown colt. He would get a long, fawn-colored overcoat -and a diamond ring. He paused in the erection of his air castle to read -again the letter which had reached him just before his departure. - - “i will be at the Depo in a purple Satin wast with - red roses in my Hat you can’t help but see me,” said - the penciled lines. “i am tickled to deth that you - are coming be Sure an com on the 3.37 thursday o how - can i wait till then.” - -Laney smiled contentedly and returned the letter to his pocket. For the -hundredth time he consulted the time-table. “Jimminy Christmas!—only -three hours more!” He hastened to wash his hands and face, having -postponed that ceremony until he should near Oak Grove. The bosom of -his pleated shirt was rumpled, and his dress clothes showed that he -had slept in them; but trifles could not mar his happiness. He oiled -his black hair from a small bottle containing bear grease scented with -bergamot, and adjusted his cravat that the horseshoe might show to -advantage. - -When after a century of nervous tension the train whistled at the -outskirts of Oak Grove, Laney’s knees were trembling beneath him and -it seemed as though the thumping of his heart would choke him. He -swallowed hard as, the solitary arrival, he descended the car steps and -looked about him. - -There was a flash of purple satin and an avalanche seemed to bury Laney -in a moist embrace. - -“Hyar yo’ is, honey!” cried a ringing, triumphant voice in his ear as -he struggled to free himself. “Ah knowed you’d come!” - -“Good Gawd!” cried Laney as he broke loose and jumped back. “Black! -Black as a camp coffee-pot!” - -“Yes, honey, I’se black, but I’se lovin’!” and Miss Livingston advanced -upon him with sparkling eyes and an expanse of gleaming ivories. - -“What for a game you been giving me?” demanded Laney, retreating to the -edge of the platform. “You said you were the daughter of a Southern -planter.” - -“So I is, so I is,” replied that lady in a conciliatory tone. “Mah -father planted rice foah Colonel Heywood down in South Caroliny till he -died.” - -“But your money, your steady income——” - -“Eb’ry Sataday night Ah draws mah little ole five dollars foah cookin’ -in a res-ta-rant.” - -Miss Livingston’s mood suddenly changed. From a pleading, loving maiden -she became an aggressive termagant; from the defensive she assumed the -offensive, gripping her pearl-handled parasol in a suggestive manner. - -“Say, yo’ Wil’ Man of Borneo, dressed up in them outlannish clothes, -what you mean tellin’ me yo’ was an American?” - -Laney made a feeble effort to explain that he was of the race of true -Americans, but he might as well have tried to be heard above the -roaring of a storm in the Belly River cañon. - -“Black, is I?” continued the dusky whirlwind, her voice rising to -a shriek. “Maybe you think yo’ look like a snow-bank! What kin’ of -a rag-time freak is yo,’ anyhow? If you think yo’ can ’gage mah -’ffections den ’spise me ’cause Ah ain’t no blonde, you’se mistaken in -dis chile! Ah don’ stand for no triflin’ from no man. If yo’ scorn me, -yo’ ‘What is it’ from de sideshow, Ah’ll have yo’ tuck up foah britch -of promise!” - -John Laney waited to hear no more. He grabbed his shining valise from -the platform and ran down the nearest alley. - -The _Iowa Granger_ said editorially in its next issue: - - We had a narrow escape from death last Thursday - evening. We were mistaken by an intoxicated redskin - for the editor of a matrimonial publication known as - _Wedding Chimes_. Had we not pasted the infuriated - savage one with the mucilage pot, and defended - ourself with the scissors which, fortunately, we had - in our hand at the time, undoubtedly the paper of - September 12th would have been the last issue of the - _Iowa Granger_. Our compositor came to our rescue in - the nick of time. - - The redskin is now in the calaboose, but refuses - to divulge his name or residence. It is believed, - however, that he belongs to the medicine show which - sold bitters and horse liniment in our midst last - week. - -When the coyotes howled that evening on the hill which overlooked the -road, they saw a radiant Swede with his arm about a pretty half-breed’s -slender waist; and Dashiel fed the pinto cayuse a pint of oats, which -was the surest kind of sign that he looked upon the pinto’s owner as -somewhat closer than a brother. - - - - - _Equal to the Occasion_ - - -An old darky preacher down South one Sunday found a poker chip in the -collection basket. The minister knew enough of the ways of the wicked -world to realize that the little ivory disk represented more money than -the average contribution, and he was loath to lose the amount. Rising -to his full height in the pulpit, he said: - -“Ef de sportin’ gent what done put de pokah chip in de collection plate -will be kind ’nuff to tell where hit kin be cashed in, de congregation -will ax de Lawd to forgib him de error ob his ways.” - - * * * * * - -Our lives are made up of selfishness and self-sacrifice. Both are much -the same. - - - - - The Rivers of the Nameless Dead - - - BY THEODORE DREISER - _Author of “Sister Carrie”_ - - The body of a man was found yesterday in the North - River at Twenty-fifth street. A brass check, No. - 21,600, of the New York Registry Company was found on - the body.—_N. Y. Daily Paper._ - - -There is an island surrounded by rivers, and about it the tide scurries -fast and deep. It is a beautiful island, long, narrow, magnificently -populated, and with such a wealth of life and interest as no island in -the world has ever before possessed. Long lines of vessels of every -description nose its banks. Enormous buildings and many splendid -mansions line its streets. - -It is filled with a vast population, millions coming and going, and is -the scene of so much life and enthusiasm and ambition that its fame is, -as the sound of a bell, heard afar. - -And the interest which this island has for the world is that it is -seemingly a place of opportunity and happiness. If you were to listen -to the tales of its glory carried the land over and see the picture -which it presents to the incoming eye, you would assume that it was -all that it seemed. Glory for those who enter its walls seeking glory. -Happiness for those who come seeking happiness. A world of comfort and -satisfaction for all who take up their abode within it—the island of -beauty and delight. - -The sad part of it is, however, that the island and its beauty are, to -a certain extent, a snare. Its seeming loveliness, which promises so -much to the innocent eye, is not always easy of realization. Thousands -come, it is true; thousands venture to reconnoiter its mysterious -shores. From the villages and hamlets of the land is streaming a -constant procession of pilgrims, the feeling of whom is that here is -the place where their dreams are to be realized; here is the spot where -they are to be at peace. That their hopes are not, in so many cases, -to be realized, is the thing which gives a poignant sadness to their -coming. The beautiful island is not possessed of happiness for all. - -And the exceptional tragedy of it is that the waters which surround the -beautiful island are forever giving evidence of the futility of the -dreams of so many. If you were to stand upon its shore, where the tide -scurries past in its never-ending hurry, or were to idle for a time -upon its many docks and piers, which reach far out into the water and -give lovely views of the sky and the gulls and the boats, you might -see drifting past upon the bosom of the current some member of all the -ambitious throng who, in time past, has set his face toward the city, -and who entered only to find that there was more of sorrow than of -joy. Sad, white-faced maidens; grim, bearded, time-worn men; strange, -strife-worn, grief-stricken women, and, saddest of all, children—soft, -wan, tender children, floating in the waters which wash the shores of -the island city. - -And such waters! How green they look; how graceful, how mysterious! -From far seas they come—strange, errant, peculiar waters—prying along -the shores of the magnificent island; sucking and sipping at the rocks -which form its walls; whispering and gurgling about the docks and piers -and flowing, flowing, flowing. Such waters seem to be kind, and yet -they are not so. They seem to be cruel, and yet they are not so; merely -indifferent these waters are—dark, strong, deep, indifferent. - -And curiously the children of men who come to seek the joys of the city -realize the indifference and the impartiality of the waters. When the -vast and beautiful island has been reconnoitered, when its palaces have -been viewed, its streets disentangled, its joys and its difficulties -discovered, then the waters, which are neither for nor against, seem -inviting. Here, when the great struggle has been ended, when the years -have slipped by and the hopes of youth have not been realized; when -the dreams of fortune, the delights of tenderness, the bliss of love -and the hopes of peace have all been abandoned—the weary heart may -come and find surcease. Peace in the waters, rest in the depths and the -silence of the hurrying tide; surcease and an end in the chalice of the -waters which wash the shores of the beautiful island. - -And they do come, these defeated ones, not one, nor a dozen, nor a -score every year, but hundreds and hundreds. Scarcely a day passes but -one, and sometimes many, go down from the light and the show and the -merriment of the island to the shores of the waters where peace may be -found. They stop on its banks; they reflect, perhaps, on the joys which -they somehow have missed; they give a last, despairing glance at the -wonderful scene which once seemed so joyous and full of promise, and -then yield themselves unresistingly to the arms of the powerful current -and are borne away. Out past the docks and the piers of the wonderful -city. Out past its streets, its palaces, its great institutions. -Out past its lights, its colors, the sound of its merriment and its -seeking, and then the sea has them and they are no more. They have -accomplished their journey, the island its tragedy. They have come down -to the rivers of the nameless dead. They have yielded themselves as a -sacrifice to the variety of life. They have proved the uncharitableness -of the island of beauty. - - - - - _Wouldn’t Admit It_ - - -MARJORIE—At the meeting of the Spinsters’ Club the members told why -they had never married. - -MADGE—What reason did they give? - -MARJORIE—All kinds, except that they had never got the chance. - - * * * * * - - _Satiated_ - -WASHINGTONIAN—Wouldn’t you like to visit the Senate some day while -you’re here? - -GUEST—No, I guess not. You see, I’m a member of the Board of -Visitors for the Old Woman’s Home up where I live. - - * * * * * - - _Invaluable_ - -CRAWFORD—Is he a good lawyer? - -CRABSHAW—Sure. He knows how every law on the statute books -can be evaded. - - - - - _Another View of the Simple Life_ - - - BY ZENOBIA COX - -For the past few months we have had a deluge of optimism. From various -sources we are told that man ought to be happy. “Whatever is, is good,” -is the handwriting on the wall. Content is preached from what George -Eliot called “that Goshen of Mediocrity,” the pulpit; and politicians -publish their elastic statistics, proving prosperity and content. This -proselyting Optimism reached its height in the advent of Charles Wagner -to our hospitable shores and in the thrusting of his little book, “The -Simple Life,” under the nose of the public. - -The book was published here several years ago, but has lain unnoticed -until today. Our sudden torridity of welcome makes one reflect upon -a dog who tramples on the grass beneath his feet and feeds on offal; -suddenly he begins to eat the grass and then we cry, “The dog is sick!” -Humanity has a canine instinct for its needs. Its tastes must ripen. We -can neither hasten nor retard them. - -As it takes the fever of intoxication to appreciate the purity of -water; as the quiet of repose must follow the stress of effort, so man -now turns to the sweet nothingness of a dream, amid the warring clash -of realities. - -That Wagner’s idyl of simplicity is but a dream, a sigh of the -imagination, only idealists can deny. Civilization and Simplicity! -Bedlam and Elysium! Nirvana on the Tower of Babel! All these alliances -are equally possible. - -The very fact of his dream arousing such a storm of approval awakens -suspicion. Insistence is always a confession of doubt. Man never talks -so much of his happiness as when he is unhappy. This is demonstrated in -marriage. - -Wagner’s arrival in America was singularly opportune. Certainly it -was fortunate that his little olive branch was given to the public -just when it was clamoring for something. Its palms were itching for -some of the sugar-plums the Privileged Few had wrested from it, and -it was beginning to get noisy. Yes, that hydrocephalic infant, the -Proletariat, was beginning to sob for the golden spoon in the mouth -of Special Privilege, when, lo and behold! the powers behind the -throne go to Paris and bring back the soothing syrup of Wagner and his -philosophy. The infant lets the Pharisee dope him, and he drops the -unintelligible complexities of Franchises, Trusts, Labor Problems and -Wrongs to grab the little woolly lamb of Content. - -Surely the importers of Wagner are altruists, to try thus to make -the public so happy. And that Wagner has had importers as well as -indorsers, the Initiated know. Nevertheless, Wagner is a remarkable -man. He is remarkable in resembling two historical characters and also -in possessing the aptitudes for several vocations. - -He resembles Rousseau. Rousseau sang the same little Psalm of -Simplicity in the most artificial and febrile period of France. The -Philistines shrieked the same applause, and even tried to eat the -prescribed grass. He resembles Mme. de Pompadour. When no longer she -could charm the palled fancy of Louis XV as Circe, coquette, dancer or -_grande dame_, she assumed the garb of a peasant girl. - -That was one of the early triumphs of simplicity. Art is always a -surprise. Its sole function is to astonish. Therein Wagner is an artist. - -He is also a civil engineer, for he has mastered the cosmic momentum. -The world is a seesaw. It exists by the eternal balance of contrasts. -Wagner, seeing the excess, has given us the weight to restore our -equipoise. He has led us back like refractory children to drink of milk -after we have eaten _marrons glacés_ and liked them. Of course they -have given us indigestion, and that is where Wagner fills the role of -physician; he diagnoses our disease, he places his finger upon the very -“Malady of the Century,” and he prescribes—sugar pills. This shows his -great wisdom, for sugar pills and the dissecting-knife should form the -sole equipment of every physician. - -Wagner is also a philanthropist. His aim is to make us happy, and -his method is to make us believe that a gridiron is a lyre and that -cobblestones may be Apples of the Hesperides. He tells us that as -things now are, each child is “born into a joyless world; that the -complexities of our lives have led us into the Slough of Despond; that -Civilization has been futile, for it has left us miserable.” And for -all our ills he gives us the panacea of content, simplicity and repose. -He summons us to be “merely human, to have the courage to be men and -leave the rest to Him who numbered the stars. Each life should wish to -be what it is good for it to be, without troubling about anything else.” - -This is the gospel of non-resistance, of quietism. The absurdity of -it is attested by every step we take, for do they not say we could -not walk were it not for the resistance of the ground? Eating, alone, -is a triumph over opposition. He wishes to steep us in the _dolce far -niente_ of Content, and tells us in order to do so all that is needed -is our confidence and trust. - -“An imperturbable faith in the stability of the universe and its -intelligent ordering sleeps in everything that exists. The flowers, the -trees, the beasts of the field live in calm strength, in entire -security.” - -We must remember that Wagner lives in Paris, and, therefore, make -allowances for this last statement. He probably has never seen any -beasts of the field except in the cages of the Zoo, else he could not -have such exuberant faith in their confidence and security. He could -never have studied the stealthy horrors of the forests—the furtive -panther—the relentless viper—their trembling victims—and possess -such a genial conviction of the mercy and goodness of this scheme of -creation. No, he must look away from nature for his examples of harmony -and peace. - -His perpetual refrain is, “Be human and be simple.” Civilization’s -answer is that the two are incompatible. Evolution tends to complexity -as inevitably as growth leads to death. The beginnings of all things -are simple—people, theories of government and vegetable seeds. But the -laws of life will not leave them thus. Like American policemen, their -continual order is “move on.” - -We would have had no history had it not been for man’s love of novelty. -It is the one enduring thing. The anthropology of the world is but -the record of man’s taste for the strange. Yet Wagner says, “Novelty -is ephemeral. Nothing endures but the commonplace, and if one departs -from that, it is to run the most perilous risk. Happy he who is able to -reclaim himself, who finds the way back to simplicity.” - -After reading pages of hazy verbiage descriptive of this simplicity, -one cannot but see that his ideal is a vapory creation, a fusing of -the honest animality of the savage and the calloused quietism of the -lotus-eater. - -Simplicity! What prototypes have we for it in all humanity? Two -possible types suggest themselves, the savage and the hermit. But -Darwin shows us that we cannot find simplicity in the savage. Like -civilized man, his instincts are toward exaggeration. He, too, in his -limited way, tries to escape from the realities of life. His protest -against truth is tattooing. His idea of beauty is distortion. - -As the great anatomist, Bichat, long ago said, “If everyone were cast -in the same mold, there would be no such thing as beauty. If all our -women were to become as beautiful as the Venus de Medici, we should -soon wish for a variety. We should wish to see certain characters a -little exaggerated beyond the existing common standard.” - -All the philosophizing of the optimist won’t thwart this tendency -of human nature, and it is as futile to bewail “the Vice of the -Superlative,” the complexities and hyperboles of life, as it would -be to bewail the inevitability of death. Thus we see we cannot find -simplicity in man’s primitive form, the savage. - -We must, then, look for it in one of his acquired forms—in the -idealist who can make of himself a mental Robinson Crusoe, or in the -hermit of the monastery or the desert. It must be in some isolated -being that we seek simplicity, for certainly it can never be found amid -“the madding crowd” and its “ignoble strife.” In solitude alone can -one cultivate that contemplative apathy of the mind which Wagner calls -peace, which Mahatmas call divinity, and wives call selfishness. - -But solitude is not good for man. With it we punish our worst criminals -and our old maids. Victor Hugo says, “It makes a god or a devil of -man.” Neither of these superlative beings could exist in Wagner’s -temperate zone. Wagner yearns for quiet and rest, and where can we find -them? Scientists tell us nothing in the world is at rest. There are but -two spots on the earth which don’t move with it—the poles. And God has -made them uninhabitable—as a lesson. - -If Wagner could reach them, he might build his Utopia there, warm it -with a rainbow and fertilize it with the waters of Lethe. - -Yet humanity must have these Arcadian dreams. The epochs are strewn -with them. Periodically man grows tired of the spiced flavors of his -repasts and would fain go out in the woods and gather manna from -heaven. The effort has always been disastrous. We had the experiment -of the Perfectionists, the Icarians, the Owenites, the Harmonists and -Brook Farm. They were all founded on simplicity and were all dissolved -because of the difference between theory and practice. This is -unfortunate. - -An ideal is like a schoolboy’s ruler—it is very good to measure by, -but is very frail to build a habitation with. Optimism is a good thing, -and so is Pessimism. But Optimism alone is popular; man does not like -to be told the faults of the universe any more than to be told of his -own faults. This accounts for his hospitality to all the myopic dogmas -of Optimism, and his antipathy to the equally true tenets of Pessimism. - -It is as if one faction believed only in the actuality of the day, -and the other admitted only the existence of night. Their polemics -suggest the law of gravitation run mad. What if there were only a law -of attraction and none of repulsion? Certainly we would all be merged -into one. But this union would be chaos and extinction. Our repulsions -and suspicions save us. They make an individual where the Optimist with -his one law of attraction would have an inert mass. The Lord’s Prayer -should be changed to “Deliver us from evil—and good.” - -Too great a bias toward a recognition of either is dangerous. The one -inculcates content—the other discontent. But of the two, discontent is -by far the safer. If content had been universal, our present degree of -enlightenment and justice would have been impossible. - -Content means egotism, inaction and stagnation. Discontent means -reformation, revolution and progress. All our great men were -discontented. All our imbecile kings were contented—and tried to make -their serfs so. Whose mind was the most beneficial to the world—the -fermenting, aggressive brain of Luther, or the tranquil cerebellum -of the gorged Vitellius? Civilization has arisen from discontent. -Discontent means upheaval, and upheaval is to a nation what plowing is -to the corn. Sir Robert Peel defined agitation to be “the marshaling of -the conscience of a nation to mold its laws.” - -What we want at present is not peace, but agitation. There are too many -wrongs to be righted—too many national dragons to be slain to respond -yet awhile to Wagner’s call to disarmament! What we need are spears, -not olive branches; the flag of battle, not the flag of truce. - -Wagner wishes to give us happiness. But man’s effort for selfish, -personal happiness has caused all the miseries of the world. - -It is by persistently closing their eyes to the sorrows of man that our -commercial pirates can so tranquilly exist. I believe that when man -sees that he cannot make life enjoyable he will then turn his attention -to making it endurable. At present our safest philosophy is the belief -in progress by antagonism, and our duty is to unsheathe the sword of -rebellion from the scabbard of ignorance, and do battle against all -despots and oppressors! - - - - - _Defined_ - - -“WHAT is domestic economy, Professor?” - -“Buying your cigars with the money you save on your wife’s clothing.” - - * * * * * - - _The Modern Table_ - -FREDDIE—What is interest, dad? - -DAD—Six per cent is legal rate, 25 is pawnbroking, 100 is -usury, while 600 is high finance. - - * * * * * - - _The Faddist_ - -COBWIGGER—When did your home cease to be a happy one? - -DORCAS—When my wife joined a lot of clubs that made a business of -making other people’s homes happy. - - * * * * * - - _A Family Secret_ - -CRAWFORD—I hear he does nothing but talk about his money. - -CRABSHAW—Yes. He tells everything about it except how he made -it. - - * * * * * - - _Too Tempting_ - -ENGLISH TOURIST—Your members of Congress pass bills, don’t they? - -LOBBYIST—Not the kind I offer them. - - * * * * * - -PROFITS of small comforts—the great ones are so hard to get. - - - - - _The Corner in Change_ - - - BY WILLIAM A. JOHNSTON - -“Must be something doing,” said the night-clerk to the room-clerk, -nodding in the direction of a middle-aged man who was being piloted -toward the elevator by a bell-boy. “That’s Martin, the banker, going -up to see the Senator. There’s three others ahead of him. The Senator -was expecting them, too, for he told me when they came in to have them -shown up to his sitting-room at once.” - -“Who are the others?” asked the room-clerk, raising his eyes from his -ledger to look after the departing form of the man who—next to Russell -Sage—was reputed to have command of the largest amount of ready money -of any man in the United States. - -“Well,” replied the night-clerk, taking advantage of the dulness of a -rainy night in the spring to engage in more extended conversation than -the exigencies of his calling usually permitted, “the first one to -arrive was Congressman Woods. He’s stopping over at the Waldorf. This -is only his second term in the House, but they say he is practically -leader of his party. Not ten minutes after him was Higgins, who used to -be comptroller, or something of the sort. He’s made a pile of money in -the Street in the last few years. They say that last corner in wheat -netted him about two million. I wouldn’t care if I stood close enough -to him to get a tip once in awhile on the way things were going. There -would be more in it than following the horses, although that ain’t -saying much, judging by the run of bad luck I have had lately. Just -before Martin came in Tom Connors went upstairs.” - -“Tom’s rather out of his latitude, ain’t he?” said the room-clerk. “It -ain’t often he gets in with such big fellows, is it?” - -“Don’t you fool yourself,” replied the night-clerk. “Maybe Tom Connors -doesn’t get his name in the society news as often as the rest of them, -but all the same he stands about as near next the Senator as anyone in -town. Tom Connors has a big pull in Washington, and almost as big a -one with the bankers here. With the chances he has the only reason Tom -Connors ain’t a millionaire is because he’s such a spender. Tom is a -working partner in a good many Senate deals or steals, whichever you -want to call them, unless I’m much mistaken.” - -The arrival of several guests put an end to the conversation. The -room-clerk turned once more to his ledger and the night-clerk began -reaching for keys and yelling, “Front!” An hour or two later the men -behind the desk were at leisure again when “Ed” Wallace strolled up. -To him the night-clerk imparted the information that the Senator was -having some sort of a séance in his rooms, incidentally mentioning who -were there. - -Wallace hastened over to the corner where several members of that -unorganized organization, “the political combination,” the brightest -reporters of the big newspapers, were exchanging reminiscences. “The -most news with the least work” is the motto of the “combination.” It -means that whatever news one of them gets, all get—with considerably -less labor than if each worked independently, and with the chance of a -rival newspaper scoring a “beat” reduced to the minimum. - -Various theories as to the meaning of the conference upstairs were -suggested and rejected. The five men in the Senator’s rooms were not -political allies—that the reporters well knew. That they were all, -with the exception perhaps of the Western representative, warm personal -friends, they knew equally well. But despite its knowledge of the men -and its familiarity with the political situation, the “combination” was -unable to deduce anything that could be printed. - -“I’ll give it up,” said Stanley Titus. “The only thing I see is for -Wallace to go upstairs and see what is going on. The Senator will talk -to him if he’ll talk to anyone, and perhaps we can get a line on what’s -doing.” - -When Wallace, two minutes later, knocked on the door of the Senator’s -sitting-room, it was the Senator himself who opened it—just about two -inches—and peered impatiently into the hall. - -“Oh, it’s you, is it, Wallace?” he said. “Well, my boy, what can I do -for you?” - -“The combination would like to know if you have anything to say for -publication about the conference that is going on in there,” replied -Wallace. - -The Senator put his head a little farther out the door. “I will tell -you something, but you will understand that it is not for publication,” -he said, dropping his voice to a whisper as Wallace leaned forward -expectantly. “I’ve got all the blues.” And the door was shut in -Wallace’s face. - -But there were no chips or cards on the table to which the Senator -returned after shutting the door. The five men, their wrinkled brows -betokening hard thinking, were intently studying neatly tabulated -statements—long rows of figures—that might mean much or little, -depending entirely on the observer’s information as to their purpose. - -“As I was saying,” the Senator began, taking up the conversation -where he had dropped it to answer the knock, “I am fully convinced -that $10,000,000 will see it through. Out of that the expenses of -engineering the deal will amount to, say, a million. The actual -expenses of collection should not exceed more than ten per cent., and I -believe with Mr. Connors that a good part of it can be done with five -per cent. That million is all we stand to lose, for the rest will be -invested in goods worth their face value, whether the plan succeeds -or fails. I believe that it will succeed and I am ready to guarantee -one-fourth of the sum needed. If each of the others present, with the -exception of Mr. Connors, will do the same, we will have the money. As -Mr. Connors is the originator of the plan and will have to superintend -the carrying out of the details, I think that without being expected to -invest any money he should receive one-tenth of the net profits, and -the residue can be divided equally among the rest of us.” - -There were no dissenters to the Senator’s proposition, least of all -Tom Connors. After some little discussion as to details, the date for -carrying out the plan was fixed as the first Friday in October, or -rather the first Friday and Saturday, as it was calculated that two -days would be required to consummate the work. - -When the conference adjourned an hour later Mr. Higgins, the former -comptroller, Representative Woods and the Senator each had agreed to -have by the first day of September $2,500,000 in available cash, which -Mr. Martin, the banker, joining with $2,500,000 of his own, could -utilize in carrying out the scheme proposed by Tom Connors, who in lieu -of capital had pledged himself to an immense amount of hard work, in -consideration of which he was to receive one-tenth of the profits. - -There was no good reason for calling it the Fractional Currency Bill, -for in reality it was an anti-fractional currency bill. It provided -that after the fifteenth day of September the Government of the United -States should not issue or cause to be issued, or coin or cause to be -coined, any half-dollars, quarters, dimes, nickels, two-cent pieces -or pennies, and also that none of the fractional currency already in -existence in the possession of the United States should be put into -circulation for a period of five years after the date on which the law -became operative. - -The bill made its appearance in the House and Senate a few days after -the opening of the special session called by the President to meet -on the twelfth day of July. Strange to say, neither the Senator nor -Representative Woods seemed to be much interested in it. Both voted -for it after having made brief speeches in its support, but they were -only two of many that did the same. The father of the bill in the House -was Hicks, of California, and in his State the measure was known as -the Hicks bill. The patron of the measure in the Senate was Gordon, of -Maine. Neither of these men heretofore had been recognized as having -much influence with their associates, but in this instance their pet -bill at once found favor in the eyes of their colleagues. - -It is a peculiar thing about the American law-maker—the real author -of legislation—that he seldom, if ever, appears at the front. He -is content that some of the small fry shall have the distinction of -fathering the laws and be recorded in history as the men who did -this or that for their country’s good. The real leaders of American -political life and actions seem to think that post-mortem fame is more -than outweighed by more substantial ante-mortem things. - -Simple as the measure seemed to read, so equally simple were the -strongest arguments used in its support. The actual metal in a -penny was worth perhaps the tenth of a penny. There was a startling -difference between the face value and the bullion value of the nickel. -Even the silver coins if offered as metal in the open market would -fetch less than half the amount that they called for. Eventually, if -more and more of these “tokens of value” were issued, the people would -refuse to accept them except far below par. The time to stop such -depreciation was before it had begun, the supporters of the measure in -both houses declared, and there was none to gainsay them. Those who had -always opposed the greenback theory could not consistently oppose this -line of reasoning. So the bill in its transition into law met little -opposition. - -Strange to say, the newspapers, not even the tragedy-shrieking, -sensation-making, scandal-hunting ones, saw aught in the Fractional -Currency Bill to make it worth more than a casual mention. What was -said about it was good. One or two of the Far West publications who had -viewed with dismay the gradually increasing number of pennies in their -vicinity, welcomed it openly and gladly, for they felt that it would -avert the possibility of reducing their prices to the one, two or three -cent standard of the East. The Eastern newspapers that had been cutting -each other’s throats by selling twelve and sixteen pages of printed -matter at less than the cost of the white paper itself, saw in the -measure, if as predicted it resulted in the gradual withdrawal of the -penny from circulation, a chance to demand and receive a higher price -for their issues without being hurt by the lower prices of rivals. -Naturally, the newspapers did not oppose the measure. - -As for the people—what do the American people, individually, know or -care what is done in Washington? For the most part the knowledge of -the community at large is confined to what it reads of the doings of -Congress in the Washington letters and to the criticisms it sees in -its pet editorial columns. If nothing is said about a particular bill, -the public knows nothing. Merchants, bankers, shipping interests, -railroads, labor unions, are aroused to action only when they see in -a bill an attempt to work injury to themselves. In the case of the -Fractional Currency Bill those who knew of it saw nothing in it likely -to injure them, and so there was no opposition. - -Thus it was that the bill prohibiting the issue of the fractional -currency of the United States for a period of five years from the -fifteenth day of September received the signature of the President and -was duly recorded among the laws of the nation. - -Seven o’clock in the morning of the first Friday in October found Tom -Connors at his desk in his offices on the second floor of the Safe -Deposit Building. He had rented a suite of rooms there several months -before and had put on the door the simple sign, “Thomas E. Connors, -Broker.” There was nothing unusual about the appearance of the office. -In the anteroom there were a few chairs, a table and an office-boy. -In another room a leased wire was run in and a telegraph operator was -seated. In the office of the “broker” himself there were only such -paraphernalia as might be found in any broker’s office. - -Even in an inner room there was hardly anything to arouse suspicion. -Some persons might have wondered a little if they had noticed that what -was to all appearances a door of a coat-closet in reality opened on a -secret staircase that led directly to the floor below and into one of -the strong rooms of the Safe Deposit Company of which Mr. Martin, the -banker, was president. - -It was not very many minutes after the arrival of his employer that the -office-boy realized to his regret that Friday was to be almost as busy -a day for him as the day before had been. Ordinarily, he had had plenty -of time to read his favorite literature, interrupted perhaps by a dozen -callers and half a dozen errands to do, but on Thursday he had observed -sorrowfully that Mr. Connors’s clients seemed to be increasing. If he -had kept count he might have known that no less and no more than one -hundred persons had called on Mr. Connors. Mr. Connors saw all of them. -Some of them he saw alone. Others were admitted to his room by twos and -threes. In one instance ten men entered the inner office and emerged -from it twenty minutes later in a body. But what all those men were -doing there was not of half so much interest to the office-boy as was -the fate of Daredevil Mike, whom the end of the chapter had left facing -the muzzles of seven rifles in the hands of seven desperate moonshiners. - -Perhaps the office-boy’s respect for Mr. Connors’s callers would have -been increased had he known that each of the men when he left the -office had a package of one-dollar bills. There was not one of them -that had not at least $100; others had as much as $500. There was not -one of them that Mr. Connors did not know was to be trusted thoroughly. -The men were carefully selected. Some of them on previous occasions -during political campaigns had been supplied with money by Mr. Connors -to be distributed in the places where it would do the most good. A few -of them were not unknown in the records of crime, but as Mr. Connors -had remarked to Martin, the banker, to whom he had shown the list, -“There ain’t one of them that would throw down a friend.” - -One of these men had arrived in the office shortly after Mr. Connors, -and as soon as he was admitted to the private office and the door had -been shut, he exclaimed: - -“Say, Connors, that was a regular cinch. It did not take me more than -an hour to clean up that market. No explanations had to be made, -either.” - -“Where’s the stuff?” asked Mr. Connors bruskly, and Mullins, his -caller, began emptying on the desk from every pocket in his clothing a -varied assortment of small change. - -“You’ll find there’s ninety-five dollars there all right, as per -agreement,” said Mullins. “I didn’t have to spend much over a dollar, -either. It was a package of tobacco here and some potatoes for the old -woman there, where some old codger wouldn’t give me change unless I -bought something. But in most cases I would go to a stall and tell them -a neighbor wanted five dollars in small change till the bank opened, -and nearly every time I would get it. I don’t believe there’s a hundred -pennies left in that market.” - -While he had been talking a clerk from the Safe Deposit Company had -entered Mr. Connors’s office by the private staircase. He carried to -the room below the money Mullins had turned in, returning shortly with -two receipt slips, one of which went to Mr. Connors and the other to -his caller. - -“Now, Mullins,” said Mr. Connors, “I want you to go up to the big -cable-car barn where the conductors turn in their money. Here’s $500 -more, and stay there until you are relieved. If you run out of money -telephone me. Get in some inconspicuous corner and pass the word around -among the conductors that ninety-five pennies or nineteen nickels are -worth a dollar to you. If they want to know what is up tell them that -it is a theatrical advertising dodge; tell them that you are writing a -story for a Sunday newspaper—tell them anything.” - -Hardly had Mullins been dismissed when another of the syndicate’s -agents came in to report and was hurried off to some other part of the -city. In some cases the men received an allowance of five per cent. on -all the money they handled. In other cases it was a little more. So the -work went on all that day and the next. Ten men were kept at work in -ten sections of the city seeing that paper money replaced the silver, -nickels and coppers in the tills of the small shops. Few, if any, of -the shopkeepers realized that anything was amiss. The agents were all -instructed to do their work without arousing any suspicion. They had -orders every time they rode on a surface-car or patronized the Elevated -roads to offer a dollar bill in payment of their fare. Wherever they -saw an opportunity to get a bill changed they took it. - -A clerk of the Safe Deposit Company reported at noon to Mr. Connors -that 12,071,624 pennies, 437,589 nickels, 366,427 dimes, 444,886 -quarters and 139,553 half-dollars had been turned in by the assiduous -collectors. Telegrams received from Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago and -various other cities showed that the efforts there had met with equal -success. With the $3,000,000 in small change that Mr. Connors had -succeeded in amassing in the preceding weeks through banks and money -brokers, he was well satisfied. - -At three o’clock on Friday afternoon there was not a bank in the city -that had not had its store of small change much depleted by the raids -of the dry-goods and department stores. Half an hour later an organized -descent was made on all the big department stores by the agents of the -syndicate. Ninety of the collectors—the others being still engaged -elsewhere, according to orders previously issued, their movements being -known only to Mr. Tom Connors—visited in succession the biggest stores -in the shopping district, making in various departments a series of -purchases of articles advertised at four cents or six cents, or some -other small sum that meant at least ninety cents in change from a -dollar bill. When Friday evening came the syndicate had succeeded in -stripping the shopping district of all its small change. - -The work of collecting on Saturday was necessarily much slower, but -when Saturday evening came the syndicate had nearly $9,000,000 in -fractional currency in its possession and everyone was wondering what -made change so scarce. The grand _coup_ was effected at midnight -Saturday night. Agents of the syndicate were waiting with paper money -at the headquarters of all the penny-in-the-slot machines. More than a -million dollars, mostly of pennies, was hurried in guarded trucks to -the Safe Deposit offices. - -On Sunday afternoon there was another conference in the Senator’s -rooms. Connors submitted his report. He told how the markets, -the car-barns, the “L” stations, the department stores, the -five-and-ten-cent shops had been skilfully but legally looted of all -their small change. Not only in one city but in all cities of over -ten thousand inhabitants had this been done successfully. There was -triumph in his tones as he read the final figures: “Cost of collection, -$482,621. Total small change in vaults, $9,464,867.63.” - -The Senator smiled a satisfied smile. - -“Gentlemen,” said he, “I think we can safely say that our corner is -complete. We have cornered the small change. The department stores, the -street railways, business everywhere will be at a standstill tomorrow. -Small change is essential to modern business. The business men must -have it. They must come to _us_ for it. If business stops for a single -day, there is hardly a large establishment that can survive. We have -them at our mercy! How merciful we are to be, Mr. Martin, I think we -should leave to you.” - -The others nodded assent. - -Mr. Martin adjusted his glasses. He took Mr. Connors’s report and -glanced at it with deliberation. - -“As the Senator observed,” he began, “the retail business houses must -have small change. They must have pennies. Even on Saturday afternoon -they were trying to get them. They were offering premiums. As high as -six dollars was offered for five dollars in pennies. By Monday noon, -with disaster, with suspension, with failure before them, they will -gladly pay any price for small change.” - -“But, gentlemen”—the banker smiled a philanthropic smile—“we must be -generous. We can offer the retailers liberal terms—we can offer them -all the small change they want for immediate delivery by Monday noon. -We can make the terms seven dollars for five dollars in small change. -From what I know of the conditions, I am confident that all the small -change we have amassed will be gladly taken at that price. We have on -hand in round numbers nine and one-half millions. For this we will -receive $13,300,000. Deducting our capital, and the half million that -it cost us for collection, this will still leave us $2,800,000, or -something more than a half million apiece after Mr. Connors has had his -tenth.” - -Monday dawned bright and clear, and Mr. Martin was early in reaching -his office at the Safe Deposit Company. So was Mr. Connors. The last -thing on Saturday night circulars had been mailed to all the principal -retailers and to the street railway companies announcing that the Safe -Deposit Company was prepared to supply an unlimited amount of small -change on short notice. - -“The street-cars caught it hard this morning,” whispered Mr. Connors as -he dropped downstairs for a moment to see how things were going. “How -are things progressing? Any answers to the circulars yet?” - -Mr. Martin shook his head, but he glanced at the clock. - -“It’s too early,” he said. “It’ll take them an hour or two to realize -what a bad situation they are in.” - -“I suppose it will,” said Connors as he went upstairs to send out -scouts. - -An hour later he was back downstairs in Mr. Martin’s office. The -Senator was there, too. Both he and Martin looked worried. - -“Say,” said Connors, “something’s gone wrong somewhere. The department -stores seem to be doing business the same as ever. And there’s pennies -everywhere!” - -“That’s just what the Senator was telling me,” said Mr. Martin, with a -puzzled air. - -“Well, where in blazes are all the pennies coming from?” demanded -Connors angrily. - -“That is just what Mr. Martin and I expected you to tell us!” said the -Senator severely. “Did you clean out all the small change from the -markets?” - -“And from the department stores?” echoed the banker. - -“And from the car-barns?” - -“And from the five-and-ten-cent stores?” - -“And from the slot machines?” - -“And from the children’s banks?” - -“Yes, and from a thousand places more!” said Connors. - -“How about the churches?” asked the Senator slowly. - -All three looked blank. They understood now why the corner had failed. - -For everybody knows that, no matter what happens, there are always -plenty of pennies in the church collection plates. - - - - - _Car Straps as Disease Spreaders_ - - - BY JOHN H. GIRDNER, M.D. - -The leather straps in the street-cars of New York and all other cities, -to which people have to hang when unable to get a seat, are not only -unmentionably filthy, but they are a means of spreading disease. Each -one of these straps is a focus of infection, a continual repository and -source of supply of every kind of disease germ and about every kind of -filth known to mankind. These car straps are made of leather. They are -riveted around the pole from which they hang, when the car is built, -and there they remain until they or the car are worn out. They are -never removed to be cleaned or disinfected. And they are never renewed -until the old one is rotten from age and use. Thousands upon thousands -of all sorts and conditions of people, hailing from everywhere and with -every imaginable variety of filth and infection befouling their hands -and fingers, grasp these straps at all hours of the day and night. - -Some idea of the conglomeration of materials which these thousands of -hands deposit, remove and mix up on the car straps might safely be left -to the imagination. Microscopic examination of scrapings taken from -straps in use on cars in New York City has revealed infectious material -and filth of all kinds. Cultures made from these scrapings and injected -into guinea pigs caused their death in a few hours. - -Car straps may readily be the means of conveying the virus of some -of the most loathsome diseases, especially those attended with a -discharge, or where there are open ulcers or eruption on the skin. In -traveling about the city people hold on to the car straps from a few -minutes to half an hour. The perspiration of the hand moistens the -leather and whatever of filth or virus happens to be on the hand is -literally soaked into the strap and there it remains until another -hand comes along and carries some of it away or makes another deposit -of similar character or both. It is true that the skin everywhere, and -especially the thick skin on the hands, is an excellent protection -against poisonous material brought into contact with it, otherwise man -could not live at all. Here is a good example of what is meant: You -might cover your entire arm with vaccine virus and it would not “take” -if the entire skin was intact, but scratch it ever so little, making a -small raw spot, and the virus enters the system and you have all the -symptoms of a successful vaccination. So it is in handling straps which -have been handled by others with virus of any kind on their hands; if -there are no raw or sore places on your hand you are not in danger, -but a slight abrasion, a cut or hang-nail may be sufficient to cause -infection, as happened to a patient of mine only recently. - -There is another danger: virus on the hand may be carried to the eyes -by the fingers and cause mischief when there is no abrasion on the hand -to admit it to the system. - -Aside from the dangers pointed out, there is the esthetic side. It is -far from pleasant to hold on to one of these straps if one stops to -think what may be, and what certainly is, on the strap. You can put on -gloves; but it is not even pleasant to think of wallowing one’s gloves -in such material. - -You cannot disinfect leather without destroying it; even if these -leather straps could be removed from the poles. Here is the remedy: -Use straps made of webbing instead of leather, and attach them to the -poles with a device which would make it possible to remove the straps -readily. Remove the straps at proper intervals, once a month or so, -and thoroughly disinfect them with heat and formaldehyde. They will -come out of this thoroughly cleaned and without injury to the strap -itself. Webbing straps are stronger than leather. Tests made at Brown -University of the comparative tensile strength of the two materials -showed that, while leather straps of the regulation kind broke under -400 or 500 pounds, it took 600 and 700 pounds to break webbing straps. -The webbing strap is also more pleasant to grasp in the hand than -leather. - -Every argument is in favor of substituting webbing for leather as -material for car straps except the small item of expense to the -companies of making the change. The cost of disinfecting them from time -to time would be trifling. The president of the Board of Health of New -York City has, in fact, expressed his willingness to disinfect the -straps free of charge to the companies, if they will bring the straps -to the department’s disinfecting plant at such intervals as he shall -designate. - -Spitting in cars is properly prohibited because there is some danger -of spreading tuberculosis by this means. And it is also a practice -revolting to well-bred people. As a means of conveying the germs of a -number of loathsome diseases, the present car straps are more dangerous -than is spitting on the floor. And it is certainly revolting to a man -or woman of ordinary habits of cleanliness to be obliged to hang on to -a piece of leather which is so filthy that one would not touch it under -any other circumstances. - - - - - _His Profanitaciturnity_ - - -“Deacon Timothy Tush is a man of few words,” said the landlord of the -Pruntytown tavern, “but he makes ’em count. - -“Of course, it was aggravating enough to have caused ’most anybody -to indulge in any kind of language that came to hand, and plenty of -it—to have the hired man cut up such a dido. To be sure, foolishness -is bound up in the heart of a hired man; but Deacon Timothy’s hired -man went further than the law allows when he attempted to smoke out a -hornet’s nest up in the barn loft, with a skillet of live coals and -two spoonfuls of sulphur; after, of course, having driven up with an -ox-cart of hay and clumb up into the loft and found the nest. Being a -hired man, he couldn’t possibly act any other way. - -“He did exactly what might have been expected when a hornet stung him -on the neck; he jumped backward, stuck his foot through a rotten board -and flung the live coals in every direction. The Deacon was coming -along with old Juckett, the horse doctor, just as the hired man tumbled -out of the loft door, considerably afire and literally infested with -hornets, and landed on the load of hay, setting fire to that, too. The -oxen ran over the Deacon and old Juckett, scattered burning hay ’most -everywhere, tore the cart to flinders, and would have burnt up the -whole place if it hadn’t been for the neighbors. - -“As it was, barn, cart and load of hay were totally destroyed, the oxen -singed, the Deacon sadly battered, old Juckett’s left leg broken, and -the hired man so unanimously stung and fried that the doctor said he -really didn’t know where to begin on him. And—but, let’s see! Where -was I? Oh, yes! All the Deacon said when it happened was ‘Suzz! suzz!’ -but I can’t help thinking it was the most profane suzzing I ever had -the pleasure of listening to.” - - - - - _The Say of Reform Editors_ - - -The Reform editor is a political waif on the tempestuous sea of strife. - -It would have been money in his pocket if he had never been born. - -He has a devil part of the time, and a devil of a time all the time. - -The smallest thing about him is his pocketbook and the largest his -delinquent list. - -He says more kind things of other people and gets more “cussings” than -any other man living. - -When he first takes the job of reforming the world he thinks it can be -finished in six months or a year. - -Then he puts it off another year and borrows some money of his -father-in-law. - -Then he enlists for three years or more during the war and borrows some -more money. - -At this stage of the game he takes a new grip on the situation and -starts in to finish up the job in the next campaign. - -But a cog slips and the dadgummed thing slides merrily down the broad -road to destruction. - -The editor tears his hair and says some cuss words. - -The devil grins and throws the shooting-stick at the office cat. - -Every opposition paper trots out its rooster, and the editor waits for -the world to come to an end or the moon to turn to blood. - -At this point in the proceedings it is time to borrow some more money. - -He would quit business, but he can’t. - -When a man undertakes to reform the world he is never out of a job. - -He always sees something that needs his attention. - -But the Reform editor is made of the right kind of metal. - -He is always out of money, but seldom out of heart. - -He used to dream of the time when he could bathe his wearied feet in -the rippling waters of success. - -When every man would do unto his brother as he would have his brother -to do unto him. - -When in Utopia’s green fields and by the side of its babbling brooks he -could end his days. - -But he is over that now. - -All he can do is to attract some attention and set the people to -thinking. - -Here’s to the Reform editor. - -He may have chosen a rough and tempestuous road, but the lightning -strokes of his gifted pen and thunder tones of his voice will purify -the moral and political atmosphere.—_Morgan’s Buzz Saw._ - - * * * * * - -“A READER of _The Commoner_ asks where he can secure a copy of -a book entitled ‘Ten Men on Money Isle.’ If anyone who is able to give -the information will send it to _The Commoner_ on a postal card the -information will be published for the benefit of the readers.” - -And the foregoing from Bryan’s _Commoner_! - -“Ten Men on Money Isle” is one of Colonel S. F. Norton’s best books, -and one of the most popular on the money question. It is a book that -made thousands of converts to Populism, the triumph of which gave Mr. -Bryan two terms in Congress and placed him prominently before the -American people. Every Populist newspaper advertised it, quoted it and -praised it. Greenbackers, alliancers, union laborites, socialists, -single taxers, students of political economy and sociology and -everybody else with intelligence and energy enough to give attention -to public questions, were familiar with the modest little book and its -author. And yet W. J. Bryan, the child of Populism, never heard of -it—doesn’t know his political father, as it were. Oh, pshaw! You can’t -fool me! Bryan isn’t that ignorant.—_The People’s Banner._ - - * * * * * - -If the Populist vote was thrown out in all other counties as it was -in Monroe, Tom Watson should have had about 5,000 votes in Iowa this -election. One thing sure, the Republican papers admit that 75,000 legal -voters in Iowa did not vote this year 1904; that means that over a -hundred thousand did not vote. There was no choice between Parker and -Roosevelt, and these men thought Watson could not win, so they did not -vote.—_Iowa Educator._ - - * * * * * - -We look upon the battle of Waterloo as a tremendous catastrophe because -57,000 people were killed in that memorable conflict, but in ten years -the railroads of the United States have killed 78,152 persons, and all -for the sake of earning dividends on watered stock. How many Waterloos -are comparatively soon forgotten!—_Field and Farm._ - - * * * * * - -On Christmas Eve a private conference of prominent Bryan Democrats -was held in Lincoln, Neb., at which Mr. Bryan presided, having for -its purpose the development of a scheme to re-Bryanize the Democratic -party and put out another bait for the Populists. The details of -the plan will, no doubt, be given out at an early day. The Pops -have been gold-bricked by Democrats enough to learn that any plan, -promise or pledge from that source has nothing good for them in it. -Keep in the middle of the road! Don’t be caught by these political -trimmers!—_Southern Mercury._ - - * * * * * - -Roosevelt wants Congress to provide work for the Indians on the -reservations. The Indians won’t work. Nothing is said about the two -million men who are out of work. To provide them with jobs would be -to disband the great army of the unemployed, without which capitalism -could not exist.—_Iowa Educator._ - - * * * * * - -President Roosevelt says there should be no rebates allowed on -freight rates by the railroads. It is plain to be seen that if we had -government ownership the President would not allow “rebates,” but it is -safe to say nothing will be done, for these railway corporations have a -way to interest members of Congress in these profits, so that no law to -curb them can be got through Congress. If we had government ownership -even a Republican President would give us relief, but as it is he is -powerless.—_The Forum, Denver, Col._ - - * * * * * - -It is easy to see now that the St. Louis convention was the crowning -event of damphoolishness. - -Almost anyone can be fooled part of the time, but nobody but a fool can -be fooled all the time. - -The yellow-hammers that are now in control of the Democratic party -insist that they are going to hold on. - -The consensus of opinion among Populists seems to be that they won’t -take any more of Dr. Bryan’s medicine. - -The Democratic party may not be dead, but it is disfigured beyond -recognition, crippled beyond recovery, and disgraced beyond redemption. - -As principle has been abandoned, and there are not enough offices to -go round, there is nothing to hold the pieces of the Democratic party -together. - -There is a man down in Texas who is so particular as to “what’s in a -name” that he won’t kiss a “grass widow” for fear of catching the “hay -fever.” - -If the South will set its face forward instead of backward it will see -the dawn of a new era, an era that will make her the mistress of the -commerce of the world. - -One of the most spectacular scenes ever exhibited in this old world of -ours is presented by a lot of laboring men howling for what they want -and voting for what they don’t want. - -When the politicians of the South want to steal something, or do -some other mean thing, they dig up the “nigger domination snake” -in order to distract the attention of the people from their own -meanness.—_Morgan’s Buzz Saw._ - - * * * * * - -Reformers make a mistake in thinking all the reform element is outside -of the Republican party. The greatest obstruction today in the way of -reform is the Democratic party. If it would gently sink to rest as the -Whig party did, the forceful men in the Republican party would lead a -movement that would give us quick and substantial relief. Seventy-five -per cent. of the Republicans have advanced ideas and are anxious for -reform. To be sure, the party is in the strong clutch of greed, as -much so as the Democratic party was in 1850, but the Whig party had -the good sense to die in 1854, and the Free Soil Democrats, the strong -men of the then dominant party, came out and formed the Republican -party, a party of the people, by the people and for the people. And -this party would have given us splendid service in economic reforms -had not the great Civil War required its attention; while the nation -was torn by this internecine struggle the vampires of greed, who have -no politics, fastened themselves upon this grand new party, and long -before peace came were so intrenched in power that such men as Lincoln, -Morton, Wade, Stevens and a host of other great Republican leaders were -compelled to bow in submission. They saw and comprehended the dire -results that would follow the machination of these ghoulish hounds of -hell, but they were powerless. - -Wade and Stevens were moved to tears, Lincoln’s soul was torn by grief. -“We submit,” said Stevens, “to save the life of a nation.” - -Thus did grasping greed take advantage of our extremity and make the -struggle for existence a strife more fierce than war.—_The Forum, -Denver, Col._ - - * * * * * - -Back of all politics is the System. What the System is we now know -fairly well from the exposures of Ida Tarbell, Steffens, Lawson and -others. The System is not a political but an industrial form of -control. Its rewards and punishments are economic. The greater part of -the population of the United States lives under conditions of economic -slavery of one kind or another. Political liberty does not in any way -mean or guarantee industrial liberty. Hence the impending revolution in -this country is not to be political but industrial.—_Tomorrow._ - - * * * * * - -A hundred thinkers grow gray a-thinking; a hundred discoverers grow -old a-discovering; a financier comes along, grabs the theories and the -finds, hires folks to straighten ’em out, and rides in his automobile -while the poor fellows of ideas eat mush and water by the roadside. -The men who do brain-work get the crust-crumbs which fall from the -commercial sponge-cake. Brains are poor collaterals to raise money -on.—_The Scythe of Progress._ - - * * * * * - -The _Saturday Evening Post_ says that there is to be a new deal in -politics. It predicts a realignment and declares that “there is a -great body of Republicans who really belong on the Democratic side, -and a smaller, but still large number of Democrats who ought to be -Republicans.” Let the exchange take place—the sooner the better. -Harmony in belief and in purpose is the only basis of co-operation in -politics.—_The Commoner._ - - * * * * * - -There is no danger of Bryan stealing the Populist platform while Tom -Watson is standing on it.—_Morgan’s Buzz Saw._ - - - - - COPYRIGHT BOOKS - - - IN ATTRACTIVE PAPER BINDING. - COVERS ILLUSTRATED FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS IN FIVE COLORS - - PRICE, 25 CENTS - - - SPECIAL OFFER: FIVE FOR ONE DOLLAR, - SENT POSTAGE PAID - - _SELECT FROM THE FOLLOWING LIST:_ - - 1—AN UNSPEAKABLE SIREN John Gilliat - 2—SANTA TERESA William T. Whitlock - 3—A DEBTOR TO PLEASURE Louise Winter - 4—THE WRONG MAN Champion Bissell - 5—THE SKIRTS OF CHANCE Captain Thompson - 6—THE GAME OF GLORIS Brunswick Earlington - 7—NAUGHTY ELIZABETH Mark Livingston - 8—SIX MONTHS IN HADES Clarice Irene Clingham - 9—AN ECLIPSE OF VIRTUE Champion Bissell - 10—ON THE ALTAR OF PASSION John Gilliat - 11—THE HUNT FOR HAPPINESS Anita Vivanti Chartres - 12—A PRINCE OF IMPUDENCE Charles Stokes Wayne - 13—MARGARET’S MISADVENTURE A. S. Van Westrum - 14—A DEAL IN DENVER Gilmer McKendree - 15—THE TEMPTATION OF CURZON Louise Winter - 16—THE COUSIN OF THE KING A. S. Van Westrum - 17—THAT DREADFUL WOMAN H. R. Vynne - 18—THE FOOD OF LOVE J. H. Twells, Jr. - 19—A MARRIAGE FOR HATE H. R. Vynne - 20—THE FAMINE OF HEARTS Anne MacGregor - 21—A WITCH OF TO-DAY Charles Stokes Wayne - 22—A MARTYR TO LOVE Joanna E. Wood - 23—HALF A WIFE Louise Winter - 24—THE KISS THAT KILLED Percival Pollard - 25—HER STRANGE EXPERIMENT H. R. Vynne - 26—FETTERS THAT SEAR H. R. Vynne - 27—THE MAN AND THE SOUBRETTE Blanche Cerf - 28—TOO MANY MAIDENS Edward S. Van Zile - 29—CUPID’S HOUSE PARTY Justus Miles Forman - 30—THE MAN’S PREROGATIVE Edward S. Van Zile - 31—SWEET SIN T. Ledyard Smith - 32—THE ASHES OF DESIRE John Louis Berry, Jr. - 33—A VERY REMARKABLE GIRL L. H. Bickford - 34—THE SALE OF A SOUL C. M. S. McLellan - 35—PAINT AND PETTICOATS John Gilliat - 36—PRINCESS ENIGMA Clinton Ross - 37—THE MASTER CHIVALRY Margaret Lee - - _Sent Postpaid on Receipt of Price, 25c. - Send Money Order, Registered Letter or Stamps to_ - - THE SMART SET PUBLISHING CO., 452 Fifth Avenue, New York - - - - -=“TOM WATSON”= - is the one historian through whom we get the point of - view of the laborer, the mechanic, the plain man, in a - style that is bold, racy and unconventional. There is - no other who traces so vividly the life of a _people_ - from the time they were savages until they became the - most polite and cultured of European nations, as he - does in - -=THE STORY OF FRANCE= - - In two handsome volumes, dark red cloth, gilt tops, price $5.00. - - “It is well called a story, for it reads like a - fascinating romance.”—_Plaindealer_, Cleveland. - - “A most brilliant, vigorous, human-hearted story - this: so broad in its sympathies, so vigorous in - its presentations, so vital, so piquant, lively and - interesting. It will be read wherever the history of - France interests men, which is everywhere.”—_New York - Times’ Sat. Review._ - -=NAPOLEON= - =A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE, CHARACTER, STRUGGLES - AND ACHIEVEMENTS.= - - Illustrated with Portraits and Facsimiles. - Cloth, 8vo, $2.25 net. (Postage 20c.) - - “The Splendid Study of a Splendid Genius” is the - caption of a double-column editorial mention of this - book in _The New York American and Journal_ when it - first appeared. The comment urged every reader of that - paper to read the book and continued: - - “There does not live a man who will not be enlarged - in his thinking processes, there does not live a boy - who will not be made more ambitious by honest study of - Watson’s Napoleon * * * - - “If you want the best obtainable, most readable, most - intelligent, most genuinely American study of this - great character, read Watson’s history of Napoleon.” - -=“TOM WATSON”= - in these books does far more than make history as - readable as a novel of the best sort. He tells the - truth with fire and life, not only of events and - causes, but of their consequences to and their - influence on the great mass of people at large. They - are epoch-making books which every American should - read and own. - - Orders for the above books will be filled by - TOM WATSON’S MAGAZINE, 121 West 42nd Street, New York City. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tom Watson's Magazine, Vol. I, No. 1, -March 1905, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM WATSON'S MAGAZINE, MARCH 1905 *** - -***** This file should be named 62797-0.txt or 62797-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/7/9/62797/ - -Produced by hekula03, Paul Marshall and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from images made available by the -HathiTrust Digital Library.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/62797-0.zip b/old/62797-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4f4ae23..0000000 --- a/old/62797-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/62797-h.zip b/old/62797-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 51b3467..0000000 --- a/old/62797-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/62797-h/62797-h.htm b/old/62797-h/62797-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 6342c23..0000000 --- a/old/62797-h/62797-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10606 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Tom Watson's Magazine, Vol. I, No. 1, by Tom Watson - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; } - -h1,h2,h3 { text-align: center; clear: both; } - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} -h1 {page-break-before: always; } - -.covernote {visibility: hidden; display: none;} -@media handheld { - .covernote {visibility: visible; display: block;} -} - -p { margin-top: .51em; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1.5em; margin-bottom: .49em; } -p.no-indent { margin-top: .51em; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0em; margin-bottom: .49em;} -p.author { margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 5%; text-align: right;} -p.indent { text-indent: 1.5em;} -p.neg-indent { text-indent: -1.5em; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; padding-left: 1.5em;} -p.f90 { font-size: 90%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -p.f120 { font-size: 120%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -p.f150 { font-size: 150%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -p.f200 { font-size: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -p.f300 { font-size: 300%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -.bigfont { font-size: 200%; vertical-align: middle;} - -.space-above1 { margin-top: 1em; } -.space-above2 { margin-top: 2em; } -.space-above3 { margin-top: 3em; } -.space-below1 { margin-bottom: 1em; } -.space-below2 { margin-bottom: 2em; } - -hr.r5 {width: 5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 47.5%; margin-right: 47.5%; } -hr.r25 {width: 25%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 37.5%; margin-right: 37.5%; } -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; } -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%; } -hr.full {width: 95%; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%; } - -table { margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; } -.tdl {text-align: left;} -.tdr {text-align: right;} -.tdc {text-align: center;} -.tdr_ws1 {text-align: right; vertical-align: top; padding-right: 1em;} - -.pagenum { position: absolute; - left: 92%; font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} - -.blockquot { margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; } -.bbox {border: solid 1px;} -.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0; } -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} -.u {text-decoration: underline;} - -img {max-width: 100%; height: auto;} - -p.drop-cap { text-indent: 0em; } -p.drop-cap:first-letter -{ - float: left; - margin: 0.15em 0.1em 0em 0em; - font-size: 250%; - line-height:0.85em; - text-indent: 0em; - margin-top: 0.1em; -} - -.poetry-container { text-align: center; } -.poem { margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; - display: inline-block; text-align: left; } -.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} - .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left:0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 1.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i19 {display: block; margin-left: 9.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - -.ws2 {display: inline; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 2em;} -.ws3 {display: inline; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em;} -.ws4 {display: inline; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 4em;} -.ws5 {display: inline; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 5em;} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tom Watson's Magazine, Vol. I, No. 1, March -1905, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Tom Watson's Magazine, Vol. I, No. 1, March 1905 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: July 31, 2020 [EBook #62797] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM WATSON'S MAGAZINE, MARCH 1905 *** - - - - -Produced by hekula03, Paul Marshall and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from images made available by the -HathiTrust Digital Library.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="transnote bbox covernote"> -<p class="f120 space-above1">Transcriber’s Note:</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<p class="indent">The cover was created by the transcriber using elements - from the original cover, and is placed in the public domain.</p> -</div> - -<p class="space-above3">Extract from a three-column review in the -<i>San Francisco Examiner</i>:</p> - -<p class="blockquot"> “Mr. Hastings has touched the very core of -the matter respecting the proclivities of our doddering plutocracy. -Throughout his book he has revealed that plutocracy in its true light -and shown it to be something utterly conscienceless and debased. No -more scathing review of the situation, as it is seen at present, could -possibly be given in a work of fiction.”</p> - -<table border="0" cellspacing="0" summary=" " cellpadding="0" > - <tbody><tr> - <td class="tdc"><img src="images/king.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="354" /></td> - <td class="tdc"><p class="f300"><b>SHALL WE<br /><span class="ws2">HAVE A</span> - <br /><span class="ws5">KING?</span></b></p></td> - </tr> - </tbody> -</table> - -<p class="blockquot">Will the United States be a monarchy in 1975? Have -you read “THE FIRST AMERICAN KING,” by George Gordon Hastings? It is -a dashing romance in which a scientist and a detective of today wake -up seventy-five years later to find His Majesty, Imperial and Royal, -William I, Emperor of the United States and King of the Empire State -of New York, ruling the land, with the real power in the hands of half -a dozen huge trusts. Automobiles have been replaced by phaërmobiles; -air-ships sail above the surface of the earth; there has been a -successful war against Russia; a social revolution is brewing. The -book is both an enthralling romance and a serious sociological study, -which scourges unmercifully the society and politics of the present -time, many of whose brightest stars reappear in the future under thinly -disguised names. There are wit and humor and sarcasm galore—a stirring -tale of adventure and a charming love-story.</p> - -<p class="center">Net $1.00, postpaid. All Booksellers,<br /> -or sent postpaid upon receipt of price by</p> - -<p class="f150"><b>TOM WATSON’S MAGAZINE</b></p> -<p class="center">121 West 42d Street,<span class="ws4">NEW YORK CITY</span></p> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<h1>TOM WATSON’S MAGAZINE</h1> -<p class="f90">THE MAGAZINE WITH A PURPOSE BACK OF IT</p> -<p class="f150"><b>March, 1905</b></p> -<hr class="r25" /> -<table border="0" cellspacing="0" summary=" " cellpadding="0" > - <tbody><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Political Situation</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Thomas E. Watson</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#POLITICAL"> 1</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2"><small> <i>To W. J. B.—To President Roosevelt—The Ship Subsidy —Hearst, the Myth—Mr. Bryan’s<br /> - Race in Nebraska—Let the Greenbacks Alone!—En Route to Royalty</i></small></td> - <td class="tdr"> </td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Palace</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Edwin Markham</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#PALACE">12</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The House in the Jungle</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>St. Clair Beall</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#JUNGLE">13</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>A Belated Reconciliation</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Will N. Harben</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#BELATED">32</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Franchise Wealth and Municipal Ownership</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>John H. Girdner, M.D.</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#WEALTH">40</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Storm-Petrel</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Maxim Gorky</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#PETREL">44</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>What Buzz-Saw Morgan Thinks</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>W. S. Morgan</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#BUZZ">45</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>A Family Necessity</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Alex. Ricketts</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#FAMILY">49</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Songs We Love</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Eugene C. Dolson</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#SONGS">49</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Alligator of Blique Bayou</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Frank Savile</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#BLIQUE">50</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Boy; His Hand and Pen</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Tom P. Morgan</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#BOY">60</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Force of Circumstance</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Chauncey C. Hotchkiss</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#FORCE">61</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>An Ideal Cruise in an Ideal Craft</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Wallace Irwin</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#IDEAL">72</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Heritage of Maxwell Fair</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Vincent Harper</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#MAXWELL">73</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Butcheries of Peace</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>W. J. Ghent</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#PEACE">87</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Remembered</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Ella Wheeler Wilcox</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#REMEMBERED">90</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Martyrdom</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Leonard Charles van Noppen</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#MARTYR">90</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Heroism of Admiral Guldberg</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Robert Barr</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#GULDBERG">91</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>A Sociological Fable</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>F. P. Williams</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#FABLE">95</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Old 10.30 Train</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Marion Drace</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#TRAIN">96</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Gallows Gate</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>H. B. Marriott-Watson</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#GALLOWS">97</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Judge and the Jack Tar</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Henry H. Cornish</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#JUDGE">105</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Object, Matrimony</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Caroline Lockhart</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#OBJECT">106</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Rivers of the Nameless Dead</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Theodore Dreiser</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#NAMELESS">112</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Another View of the Simple Life</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>Zenobia Cox</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#SIMPLE">114</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Corner in Change</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>William A. Johnston</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHANGE">118</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>Car Straps as Disease Spreaders</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"><i>John H. Girdner, M.D.</i></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#STRAPS">124</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"><i>The Say of Reform Editors</i></td> - <td class="tdr_ws1"> </td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#REFORM">126</a></td> - </tr> - </tbody> -</table> - -<p class="f90 space-above1">Application made for entry as Second-Class Matter at<br /> -New York (N. Y.) Post Office, March, 1905<br />Copyright, 1905, in U. S. and Great Britain.<br /> -Published by <span class="smcap">Tom Watson’s Magazine</span>,<br />121 West 42d Street, N. Y.</p> - -<p class="center">TERMS: $1.00 A YEAR; 10 CENTS A NUMBER</p> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="f200"><b>TOM WATSON’S MAGAZINE<br />FOR APRIL</b></p> - -<hr class="r25" /> -<p class="f120"><b>EDITORIALS<span class="ws4"> Hon. THOMAS E. WATSON</span></b></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="no-indent">In Russia—President Roosevelt and the Railroad Problem—Bribery -in Georgia—Who Pays the Taxes? —The Free Pass Evil, etc., etc.</p> - -<p class="space-above2"><b>CORRUPT PRACTICES IN POLITICS</b></p> -<p class="author">Hon. Lucius F. C. Garvin,<br />Ex-Governor of Rhode Island</p> - -<p><b>THE NEW YORK CHILDREN’S COURT</b></p> -<p class="author">Hon. Joseph M. Deuel,<br />Author of the legislation creating the Court<br /> -and one of the Judges presiding therein</p> - -<p><b>CONSERVATIVES AND RADICALS</b></p> -<p class="author">John H. Girdner, M.D.</p> - -<p><b>NEW SINS</b>—Footpace Ethics in a Horse-Power World</p> -<p class="author">Charlotte Perkins Gilman</p> - -<p><b>THE CONSTITUTION</b>—A Document that Needs Revision</p> -</div> - -<p class="f150 space-above2"><i><b>FICTION</b></i></p> -<table border="0" cellspacing="0" summary=" " cellpadding="0" > - <tbody><tr> - <td class="tdl">WILL N. HARBEN</td> - <td class="tdl">OWEN OLIVER</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">W. MURRAY GRAYDON  </td> - <td class="tdl">Capt. W. E. P. FRENCH, U.S.A.</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">ELEANOR H. PORTER</td> - <td class="tdl">B. M. BOWER</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">VINCENT HARPER</td> - <td class="tdl">HUGH PENDEXTER</td> - </tr> - </tbody> -</table> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<p class="f200"><b><i><span class="smcap">Tom Watson’s Magazine</span></i></b></p> -<p class="f120">VOL. I.<span class="ws3">MARCH, 1905</span><span class="ws3"> No. 1</span></p> -<hr class="r25" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="POLITICAL" id="POLITICAL"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The Political Situation</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-below1">BY THOMAS E. WATSON</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">CAREFULLY studied, the election of Nov. 8, 1904, affords more -encouragement to Reformers than any event which has happened since the Civil War.</p> - -<p>In smashing the fraudulent scheme of Gorman-Hill-McCarren-Belmont, the -people proved that there was still such a thing as public conscience. -The whole Parker campaign was rotten—from inception to final -fiasco—and the manner in which the masses rose and stamped the life -out of it was profoundly refreshing. Roosevelt stood for many things -which the people did not like, but they recognized in him a man instead -of a myth, a reality instead of a sham.</p> - -<p>He had fought abuses in civil life; he had fought the enemies of his -country on the battlefield; he had achieved literary success; he had -been a worker and a fighter all his days. He had faced the coal barons -and virtually brought them to terms; he had bearded the railroad kings -and broken up the Northern Securities Combine. Thus, while he “stood -pat” on many things which the people detested, he stood likewise for -many things they admired, and they gave him a vote larger than that of -his party.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Another thing helped Roosevelt. This was the prominence of Grover -Cleveland and his “second administration” gang. Apparently Parker had -no conception of the bitterness with which the masses hate Cleveland. -Because he was cheered by the self-chosen delegates to the St. Louis -convention, because he was given a cut-and-dried ovation by the -business men of New York City, the Democratic bosses seemed to believe -that the more of Cleveland they forced into the campaign the better the -country would like the taste of it.</p> - -<p>So they not only kept Cleveland on exhibition in the most conspicuous -manner, but they dug up John G. Carlisle, Arthur Pue Gorman, Olney -of Massachusetts, and other Cleveland fossils, until Parker’s -identification with Cleveland’s second administration was complete.</p> - -<p>And when <i>that</i> happened, it was “Good-bye Parker!”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Cleveland had issued the bonds which Harrison had refused to issue; he -had sold $62,000,000 of these bonds at private sale, <i>at midnight</i>, to -J. P. Morgan and his associates; <i>the price was less than that which -the negroes of Jamaica were getting for their bonds!</i></p> - -<p>August Belmont was Morgan’s partner in that infamous deal. Therefore, -when Cleveland and Belmont got so close to Parker that he couldn’t -breathe without touching them on either side, the suspicion became -violent that the same Wall Street influences which had pledged -Cleveland to a bond issue had pledged Parker to the same thing.</p> - -<p><i>There is no reasonable doubt whatever that Parker’s managers had -pledged themselves to another issue of bonds.</i> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>How could these bonds have been issued? Easy enough. Cleveland had -invented the process by violating the law; and the Cleveland precedent -still stands.</p> - -<p>To get more bonds, you only need another President who will take orders -from Belmont and Morgan at secret, midnight conferences.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Then there was John G. Carlisle. Among political shrubs which are -aromatic, none smells sweeter than he. Not by any other name would he -smell half so sweet. Carlisle was the Whisky Trust representative in -Congress, who made so many speeches for Free Silver and Tariff Reform. -Placed in Cleveland’s cabinet he crawled at the feet of the gold-bugs, -and he wrote a new tariff for the Sugar Trust, which enabled those -robbers to take annual millions from the people in repayment for the -thousands which the Trust had put into the Democratic Campaign fund.</p> - -<p>This man, Carlisle, was exhumed and brought to New York to make another -speech for “Reform” and for Parker!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Likewise there was Gorman. With a political ignorance which is hard -to understand, Parker seemed to believe that his salvation depended -upon linking himself to Gorman. He appeared to breathe easy only when -sitting in the lap of Gorman. Nothing in the way of campaign plan could -be sent forth into the world with any hope of success until there -had been a laying-on of hands and a blessing by the cloud-compelling -Gorman. Yet it would seem that a well-informed schoolboy should have -been able to tell Parker that Gorman was one of the best hated men living.</p> - -<p>When poor people were freezing in the big cities and the Coal Trust was -pitiless, and the golden-hearted Senator Vest of Missouri proposed to -cut the ground from under the feet of the Trust by putting coal upon -the Free List, who was it that virtually said in the United States -Senate, “Let the people freeze; the Trust shall not be weakened”?</p> - -<p><i>It was Gorman, of Maryland!</i></p> - -<p>Who was it that took the Tariff Reform Measure of Wm. L. Wilson and -turned it into an elaborate device for enriching the few at the expense -of the many?</p> - -<p>It was Gorman.</p> - -<p>Who took Sugar off the Free List and put a tax of $45,000,000 upon it?</p> - -<p>Gorman.</p> - -<p>Who increased the McKinley duties upon lumber and nails and wire and -trace-chains and horseshoes and iron-ware which the common people must use?</p> - -<p>Gorman.</p> - -<p>Who doubled the tax on molasses?</p> - -<p>Gorman.</p> - -<p>Who stands upon the Democratic side in the Senate of the United States -as the champion of the Sugar Trust and all other Democratic Trusts?</p> - -<p>Gorman.</p> - -<p>But Parker could never get enough of Gorman. The people could—and did. -Their votes showed that they wanted no more tariff bills fixed by</p> - -<p>Gorman.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Why was the election encouraging to reformers?</p> - -<p>Because it showed such an increase in the independent vote.</p> - -<p>At least a million Independents voted for Roosevelt because they were -hell-bent on beating Parker. In part, they were moved to do this -because of the belief that Roosevelt himself leans to radicalism. His -past record as a reformer gave hope that during the next four years he -would be a powerful factor in bringing about improved conditions.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Reformers not only take encouragement from Parker’s loss of votes, but -in the victories won by Douglas, La Follette and Folk.</p> - -<p>Widely separated as were the States of Massachusetts, Wisconsin and -Missouri the fact that the independent voter broke party lines in each -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> -of these States to support a genuine reformer is the most significant -fact among the election results.</p> - -<p>No one can misunderstand it. The people want honest leaders. The people -will follow without flinching. Party names count for nothing. Give the -people a MAN: fearless, honest, aggressive, <i>standing for something</i>, -and not afraid to fight for it: the people will follow him to the death.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We too often say, “The people are fickle; they won’t stand by their own -leaders!” Ah, friend! Think how often the people have been fooled. See -how many men they have put into office to accomplish reforms. See how -often these leaders have forgotten their pledges as soon as they began -to draw salaries, free passes and perquisites!</p> - -<p>The people have been betrayed so often that they are discouraged. But -don’t you doubt this, brother: Another reform wave is coming, and woe -unto those leaders who seek to check it!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Here is the condition of the Democratic Party:</p> - -<p>For four years it is bound to the St. Louis platform, plus Parker’s -gold telegram, plus Parker’s message to Roosevelt “heartily” -congratulating him upon his election.</p> - -<p>For four years Belmont, McCarren, Meyer, Dave Hill, Gorman & Co. have -absolute control of the party machinery.</p> - -<p>For four years the official commander-in-chief, the standard-bearer of -National Democracy is Tom Taggart, the gambling-hell man of French Lick -Springs, Indiana!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Commenting upon the campaign, <i>The Independent</i>, of New York, says that -Mr. Bryan gave his support to the Democratic ticket, but took back -nothing which he had said about Parker. <i>The Independent</i> is mistaken. -Bryan changed his position so often and so fast that Dr. Holt evidently -failed to keep up.</p> - -<p>In that special-car trip of his through Indiana, Mr. Bryan’s -evolutionary process developed him into a Parker champion, who saw in -the Esopus man “The Moses of Democracy,” one whose “ideals” were the -same as Bryan’s “ideals,” one whose candidacy enlisted Bryan’s support -as cordially as though Bryan “had framed the platform and selected the -nominee.” Oh, yes, that was about what he said, Dr. Holt.</p> - -<p>And when he had finished saying it twenty-two times per day, the -Indiana voter girded up his trousers, trekked to the polls, and voted -for Roosevelt.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><i>To W. J. B.</i></h3> - -<p>Would you be so kind as to tell us when and where you will & commence to -reorganize the Democratic party? You promised to begin “immediately -after the election.” What is your construction of the word -“immediately”? And what did you really mean by “reorganize”?</p> - -<p>Your party is fully organized from top to bottom—from Tom Taggart, the -gambling-hell man, down to Pat McCarren, the Standard Oil lobbyist. How -can you reorganize a party so thoroughly organized? You can’t do it, -you are not trying to do it, and you must have known all along that you -couldn’t do it.</p> - -<p>Watch out, William! The people have loved you and believed in you, but -your course in the last campaign has shaken your popularity to its -very foundations. Beware how you trifle with the radicals. If you want -to come with us, come and be done with it. If you want to go to the -Belmonts and Taggarts, go and be done with it.</p> - -<p>Be assured of this, William—<i>you can’t ride both horses</i>!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><i>To President Roosevelt</i></h3> - -<p>The people have given you power and opportunity. For four years you will -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> -have a responsibility such as few men have ever had.</p> - -<p><i>What Will You Do With It?</i></p> - -<p>The Express Companies are robbing the people of many millions of -dollars every year in excessive charges for carrying small parcels. In -every civilized land, save ours, the Government carries these small -parcels at a nominal cost, as a part of the postal service.</p> - -<p>In America, a venal Congress keeps the yoke of the Express Companies -fastened upon the people and will not allow the government to establish -a Parcels Post. Mr. President, will you not fix your attention upon -this monstrous abuse? Will you not come into the arena and help us in -the fight for the Parcels Post?</p> - -<p>Mr. President, the railroads are charging the government $65,000,000 -per year for carrying our mails! This represents a yearly income of -more than two per cent. upon three billion dollars.</p> - -<p>Squeeze out the water, and the railroads of the United States could be -bought for three billion dollars.</p> - -<p><i>Therefore, on the carriage of mails alone, your administration is -paying the railroads more than two per cent. upon their entire value!</i></p> - -<p>The Government could float a two per cent. bond at par, and if it -issued enough bonds to pay for all the roads the annual interest charge -would be no greater than we now pay for carrying the mails.</p> - -<p>Can you do nothing about this, Mr. President? Is your strong arm -powerless to defend the people against this high-handed robbery?</p> - -<p>Mr. President, your administration is now paying the Oceanic Steamship -Company $45,000 per year to carry mails to the semi-savages of Tahiti. -This island is under French control. French steamers offered to carry -these mails for $400 per year. Your administration refused the offer, -and continued to pay an American Corporation $45,000. <i>Did you know -this, Mr. President? Is there nothing you can do about it? Must the -taxpayers be plundered of $44,600 every year simply because an American -Corporation wants the money?</i></p> - -<p>Mr. President, is it right that to China and Japan American-made cloth -should be sold cheaper than we Americans can buy it? Is it right that -we should have to pay more for implements to work our fields with than -the South American farmer pays for the same tools? For a hundred years -our manufacturers have been protected from foreign competition in the -home market; they charge us higher prices in this home market than are -paid by any other people on earth; they organize this monopoly into a -Trust, and then they take their surplus goods into foreign markets and -sell them to foreigners at a lower price than they sell to us. Is that -right, Mr. President?</p> - -<p>How can this evil be corrected? How can the Trusts be curbed?</p> - -<p>By putting on the Free List every article which is sold abroad cheaper -than it is sold here, and every article which enters into the necessary -makeup of the Trust.</p> - -<p>Mr. President, under your administration corporate wealth escapes -national taxation, as it has done for the past thirty years.</p> - -<p><i>Under Abraham Lincoln, the railroads and the manufacturers paid a -federal tax.</i></p> - -<p>They pay none now.</p> - -<p><i>Under Abraham Lincoln, the vastly overgrown Insurance Companies and -Express Companies paid a federal tax.</i></p> - -<p>They pay none now.</p> - -<p>Is that right, Mr. President?</p> - -<p>Why should the poorest mechanic, clerk, storekeeper, printer, farmer, -or mine-worker <i>pay excessive federal taxes upon the necessaries of -life while the billion dollar corporations pay nothing at all</i>? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><i>The Ship Subsidy</i></h3> - -<p>In his message to Congress the President says:</p> - -<p>“I especially commend to your immediate attention the encouragement of -our merchant marine by appropriate legislation.”</p> - -<p>Does Mr. Roosevelt, like the late Senator Hanna, favor the Ship -Subsidy? Is the government going to hire merchants to go to sea? Are we -to have hothouse commerce sustained at the expense of the taxpayers?</p> - -<p>What ails our merchant marine? Why cannot American merchants compete -with British and German merchants on the ocean?</p> - -<p>Simply because our own laws will not allow it. Our navigation acts have -destroyed the American merchant marine.</p> - -<p>How?</p> - -<p>By denying registry and the protection of the flag to any ship not -built in one of our own shipyards. We are not allowed to buy vessels -from England, Scotland or Germany without losing the protection of our -government. We must build them at home. Our precious tariff increases -the cost of all shipbuilding material, while in Great Britain vessels -are built under free trade conditions. Hence it costs us more to -build any sort of seagoing vessel than it costs Great Britain. If we -were allowed to buy ships abroad we could get them on equal terms -with British merchants. Consequently we could compete with them for -the carrying trade. We would get our share. The American Merchant -Marine would once more flourish as it did prior to the Civil War. The -Tariff compels the merchant to pay more for an American ship than the -Englishman pays for an English ship, and our Navigation laws compel the -American merchant to use the American ship or none.</p> - -<p>Result: The Englishman gets the business.</p> - -<p>It was just this kind of legislation which provoked the preliminary -troubles between Great Britain and the American Colonies. Our -forefathers hated the British navigation acts; the sons copied them. -Great Britain grew wise, swung to Free Trade, and took the seas away -from us. Our navigation acts represent the most violent type of the -Protective madness. To deny the merchant the right to buy his vessel -where he can get it cheapest is mere lunacy. The cheapest and best -ships will inevitably get the cargoes; and where the law denies to the -American the chance to get the cheapest and best vessel it simply puts -him out of the combat.</p> - -<p>Our Navigation acts have done that identical thing.</p> - -<p>What is the remedy? Senator Hanna wanted “ship subsidies.” In other -words, the merchant was to be encouraged to go into the shipping -business by the assurance that the Government would go down into the -pockets of the taxpayers and pull out enough money to make good the -difference between the costly ships of America and the cheaper, better -ships of Great Britain.</p> - -<p>To escape the effects of one bad law, Senator Hanna proposed that -Congress should pass another. The Tariff, which plunders the many to -enrich the few (see recent remarks of Parker and Cleveland), has killed -the merchant marine; therefore the merchant marine must be restored to -life, not at the expense of the enriched few, but of the plundered many.</p> - -<p>The merchant marine has been destroyed by the system which is “the -mother of the Trusts,” by the system which sells to foreign consumers -at a lower price than to home consumers.</p> - -<p>Why not encourage our merchant marine by allowing our merchants -<i>to buy their vessels in those foreign markets where our Protected -Manufacturers sell their wares so much cheaper than they sell them to -us at home</i>?</p> - -<p>Would it not be the most shameless kind of class legislation to take the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> -tax money of the unprivileged masses of our people (who pay practically -all the taxes), and build up fortunes for another class of privileged -shipowners.</p> - -<p>The beneficiaries of protection are the few: its victims are the many.</p> - -<p>Thus the favored few get all the benefits of protection and escape all -its evils; while the unprivileged many bear all of its evils and reap -none of its benefits.</p> - -<p>We are told that Great Britain and Germany subsidize their merchant -marine and that therefore our government must do it. The argument -would be contemptible even if the facts supported it, but that is not -the case. Great Britain does not subsidize her merchant marine nor -does Germany do so. Great Britain pays certain lines for specific mail -service and colonial service; nothing more. Germany does likewise. -Neither country <i>hires</i> merchants to go to sea about their own business.</p> - -<p>There is no more statesmanship in hiring a mariner to engage in private -business between New York and Liverpool than there would be in hiring -John Wanamaker to establish another branch of his mercantile business -in San Francisco or Terra Del Fuego. Such legislation as that is -<i>Privilege run mad</i>.</p> - -<p>When Napoleon encouraged the beet sugar industry in France by bounties -he may have done a wise thing. France was under his despotic control; -commerce with the world was cut off; internal development became the -law of self-preservation.</p> - -<p>But no imperial sceptre rules the ocean. There can be no monopoly of -the use of her myriad highways. Amid her vast areas, natural law mocks -the puny contrivances of men. Competition is free. The ocean race is to -the swift; the battle is to the strong. Whoever can do the work, do it -quickest, cheapest, surest, best, will do it—American bounties to the -contrary notwithstanding.</p> - -<p>Take off the rusty fetters which bind the limbs of the American seaman -and he will need no bounty. Give him a fair start, an open course, and -he will outrun the world. Keep the chains on him—and he will never win!</p> - -<p>Suppose you give bounties to the shipper, then what? To the extent of -the bounty he will do business—no further. And you will soon find -that you have attracted mercenary corporations who do business for the -bounty, the whole bounty, and nothing but the bounty.</p> - -<p>We tried this ship subsidy business once before—from 1867 to 1877. -What was the result? Scandals and failure. Congress took more than six -and a half million dollars of the people’s money, gave it to greedy -corporations and got nothing in return save a fit of disappointment and -disgust which lasted the country till the advent of Hanna.</p> - -<p>We earnestly hope that President Roosevelt will look into the record -of the former subsidy experiment before he ever signs a bill of like -character.</p> - -<p>In 1856 a little more than three-fourths of all our exports and imports -were carried in American bottoms. In 1881 seventy-two million bushels -of grain were shipped from New York to Europe, and not one bushel of it -went in American ships.</p> - -<p>Less than one-sixth of our marine freight was handled by ourselves in -1881, and the amount has gone on dwindling.</p> - -<p>Great Britain improved her methods of building ships; built cheaper and -better vessels than ours. The law did not permit us to buy from her, -but did permit her to bring her ships into our waters and capture our -trade; and so she captured it.</p> - -<p>We are the only people in the world who are not allowed to buy ships -wherever we can buy them cheapest. We are the only serfs alive who -are chained hand and foot to obsolete Navigation laws. And to escape -the logical consequences of our folly we do not propose to repeal the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> -monstrous laws which led us into the difficulty, but we do propose to -compel the taxpayers to make good, by subsidies, the difference between -the costly American ship and the cheaper, better European ship!</p> - -<p>When statesmanship gets down to that low ebb its morality is gone.</p> - -<p>A venal Congress may pass such a measure, but we do not believe an -honest President will sign it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> -<h3><i>Hearst, the Myth</i></h3> - -<p>Because he is not perpetually making an exhibit of himself, a good many -shallow politicians sneer at W. R. Hearst and call him a myth.</p> - -<p>Because he is not everlastingly on his feet reeling off speeches which -come from nowhere and go nowhere, the average regulation “orator” looks -down upon the modest, silent man from New York as a very inferior -mortal, indeed.</p> - -<p>Yet W. R. Hearst, with all his shyness and silence, has a way of -hitting out quick, hard and sure that does more good for the people -than all the “orators” have done in the last decade. If there is -anything on this blessed earth that we have got enough of at this -time, it is talk, <i>talk</i>, <span class="smcap">talk</span>! From Presidents in -fact and Presidents in prospectus, from Senators of all shades and Congressmen -of every variety down to oratorical Federal Judges, College Doctors and -legislative lights we have floods of talk, <i>talk</i>, <span class="smcap">talk</span>! -The misery of it all is that this oratory doesn’t mean anything. It strikes -a bee-line for the waste basket.</p> - -<p>It lives today, echoes tomorrow, and is forgotten the day after. The -orator himself thinks only of the success of the speech. He drinks in -the immediate applause, he gloats over the newspaper puffs, he puts -out his chest, he is happy: and that is all. The speech accomplishes -nothing; was not meant to accomplish anything. Perhaps the orator -himself voted for the thing which he denounced, as happened with the -Panama business when Democratic “orators” spoke on one side and voted -on the other. Now if there is anything which the American people are -sick unto death of, it is this kind of patent-medicine oratory. What -we all want just now is that men shall become <i>workers</i> instead of -automatic spellbinders. We want men who actually do something—men who -have ideas, plans, practical resources; men who will literally take -up their clubs and hammer away at monstrous abuses wherever they show -their heads.</p> - -<p>Such a man is W. R. Hearst. By his assault upon the Coal Trust he has -exposed the heartless methods of capitalism and laid the foundations -for much good work in the future. By his swift, successful attack upon -the Gas Trust, which, by the collusion of city officials, was about to -steal seven million dollars from the taxpayers of New York, he has set -an example which should inspire every reformer in the Union.</p> - -<p>May his courage become contagious! May his example breed imitations! -May his firmness in standing for the rights of the people raise up -enemies to the Trusts throughout the land!</p> - -<p>Mr. Hearst is a Democrat; the corrupt officials who were about to -surrender the treasury of New York to the Gas Trust were Democrats; -that fact did not bother him in the least. Rascality is doubly odious -when it borrows a good name; and the honest Democrat did not hesitate -to bring his injunction down like a flail upon the heads of the -dishonest Democrats who were betraying their trust.</p> - -<p>We wish we could swap a couple of hundred “orators” for another myth -like William R. Hearst.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> -<h3><i>Mr. Bryan’s Race in Nebraska</i></h3> - -<p>In a recent issue of his paper, Mr. Bryan says, referring to Mr. Watson:</p> - -<p class="blockquot">The small vote which he received—a vote much -smaller than Populists, Democrats, and even Republicans expected him to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> -receive—shows either that there are few who agree with him as to the -course of action to be pursued or that they did not have confidence in -his leadership. It is not only more charitable, but more in accordance -with the facts, to assume that the reformers had personal confidence -in Mr. Watson, but did not agree with him as to the best method of -securing remedial legislation.</p> - -<p>This paragraph reminds me that Mr. Bryan was likewise a candidate in -the year 1904.</p> - -<p>He ran for the United States Senate in the State of Nebraska, and he -got no votes to speak of. Out of 133 members of the Legislature, he -captured less than a dozen.</p> - -<p>The small vote which he received—a vote much smaller than Populists, -Democrats and even Republicans expected him to receive—shows either -that there are few who agree with him as to the course of action to be -pursued, or that they did not have confidence in his leadership. “It is -not only more charitable, but”—and so forth.</p> - -<p>Mr. Bryan says that “reforms are not to be secured all at once.” Quite -right; and they will never be secured at all by leaders who change -front as often as Mr. Bryan has done within the last twelve months. -Neither will they be secured by a political party which preaches a -certain creed for eight years and then throws it aside like a worn out -garment. Nor will reforms ever be secured by a party which contains -so many different sorts of Democrats that nobody knows which is the -genuine variety.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> -<h3><i>Let the Greenbacks Alone!</i></h3> - -<p>To the right, to the left, in front, in the rear, we are beset by -problems, abuses, critical conditions, wrongs crying for redress, -victims of legislative injustice demanding relief. That a President of -the United States should be blind to so many self-evident conditions, -deaf to so many sounds of suffering, and should go out of his way to -strike at the Greenback currency is a fact to cause astonishment.</p> - -<p>What harm is the Greenback doing to anybody? What evil has it ever -wrought?</p> - -<p>The approval of Lincoln gave it life; the soldier who fought for the -Union, when Roosevelt was in the cradle, was paid with it; the Union -armies were fed and clothed with it when gold had run off and hid. The -Greenback saved the Government in its hour of need, and it has done -good each day of its life ever since. If we had five times as much of -it as now exists, the country would be twice as well off.</p> - -<p>Who is it that hates the Greenback?</p> - -<p>The National Banker.</p> - -<p>Why?</p> - -<p>Because the National Banker would like to have the monopoly of -supplying the paper currency. The Government circulates $346,000,000 -Greenbacks; the National Banker circulates $400,000,000 of his own -notes.</p> - -<p>The bank-notes earn compound interest for the banker; the Greenbacks -earn no interest at all. Therefore, they compete with the notes of the -banker. They interfere with his business. As long as they exist, he has -no absolute monopoly.</p> - -<p>Therefore what?</p> - -<p>The National Banker hates the Greenback just as the Standard Oil -detests the independent companies. For the same reason which moves -the Coal Barons, the Beef Trust and the Tobacco Trust to wage -relentless war upon the independent dealer, the money power demands the -suppression of the Greenback. If the National Bankers can destroy the -Greenback, they can fill its place with their own notes. Loaned out at -lawful interest, compounded at the usual periods, they will wring from -the people a yearly tribute of nearly thirty million dollars. In other -words, the country now gets Greenbacks free of charge, whereas the -bank-notes to replace them will cost $30,000,000 per annum. I can see -how this will benefit the bankers; but whom else will it benefit?</p> - -<p>One of the strangest hallucinations that ever entered the legislative -mind is that a banker’s note, based on national credit, is good, safe, -sane currency, while the Government’s own note, based on national -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> -credit, is unsafe, unsound and not to be tolerated. The first -legislators who saw the thing that way were probably hired to do it. -The example having been set, ignorance, prejudice and self-interest -helped to swell the numbers of the converts, until now the men who -cling to the belief that a Government note, issued by the Government -itself would be as good as that which it authorizes the banker to -issue, are in a helpless minority.</p> - -<p>If the Government buys paper, sets up a press, stamps a note and issues -it as currency, the banker howls “<i>Rag Money</i>!” The subsidized editor -takes up the dismal refrain, the limber-kneed politician tunes his -mouth to the echo, the wise men of the academy quit gerund-grinding to -talk finance, and with one accord the orthodox repeat the jeer of “<i>Rag -Money</i>,” “<i>Rag Baby</i>” and “<i>Dishonest Dollar</i>,” until the Government -lets <i>the banker take the paper, the press, the stamp and issue the -notes as his own</i>! Then it is all right. The editor’s soul is soothed; -the politician purrs with satisfaction; the savant of the academy -returns to his Greeks and Romans. All is well. The bankers issue their -currency, grow fat on usury, and the principles of high finance are -vindicated. <i>The paper currency of the Government is a “Rag Baby”; the -paper money of the National Banker is “Sound Money.”</i></p> - -<p>So, we let the bankers exploit a governmental function to their immense -profit, when the Government could use the function itself, to the -injury of nobody, and to the vast benefit of the people at large. But -if the Government did this thing, the National Banker would lose his -special privilege, his unjust advantage, his huge gains.</p> - -<p>Hence, he not only refuses to permit the Government to supply the -country with any more Greenbacks, but he demands the destruction of -those already outstanding. I regret to see President Roosevelt lending -himself to this wicked proposition.</p> - -<p>Cleveland, during the whole time he was in office, was hostile to the -Greenbacks and recommended that they be destroyed. Nobody was surprised -at this. In fact, Cleveland had exhausted the capacity of honest men to -be surprised.</p> - -<p>But the country hoped for better things from Mr. Roosevelt. He was -thought to be too strong a man to be the blind tool of the National -Bankers.</p> - -<p>The Greenback is hurting nobody, is doing great good; its only enemy -is the National Banker, whose motive is sordidly selfish. LET THE -GREENBACK ALONE!</p> - -<p>If the President will take the trouble to study for himself the -financial statements issued by his own subordinates, he will discover a -state of things which would otherwise be incredible.</p> - -<p>He will find that <i>the bankers are drawing compound interest on more -money than there is in existence</i>!</p> - -<p>He will find that <i>they reap usurious revenues from three times as much -money as there is in actual circulation</i>!</p> - -<p>He will find that <i>they have drawn interest upon seven times as much -money as</i> <span class="smcap">THEY ACTUALLY HAVE</span>!</p> - -<p>Under the law of its birth, the Greenback is real money. Like gold -and silver, it comes direct from the Government to the people. If you -burn it, and do not supply its place, <i>you contract the currency at a -time when such contraction means national disaster</i>. If you burn the -Greenback, and allow the National Banker to supply its place with his -own notes, then <i>you rob the people of thirty million dollars annually -and give the spoils to the banker</i>!</p> - -<p>He already earns about $50,000,000 per year on his special privilege of -issuing currency.</p> - -<p><i>Isn’t that enough?</i></p> - -<p>He already enjoys the use of one hundred million dollars of the tax -money which <i>other people pay into the treasury</i>; and he fattens on the -luxury of getting this money free of interest and of lending it out at -compound interest to the “<i>other people</i>.”</p> - -<p><i>Isn’t that enough?</i></p> - -<p>And he has filled the channels of trade with his “lines of credit,” his -loans of money which has no existence save in the confidence of his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> -dupes, <i>until his yearly income from fictitious money is half as great -as the entire revenues of the Government!</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Isn’t that enough?</span></p> - -<p>The Greenback is the barrier which stands between the National Banker -and absolute financial despotism.</p> - -<p>LET IT ALONE!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h3><i>En Route to Royalty</i></h3> - -<p>The approaching inauguration of President Roosevelt is to be the most -king-like ceremony ever witnessed on the American Continent.</p> - -<p>Three thousand troops of the regular Army, twenty thousand soldiers of -the National Guard, the Cadets from West Point and Annapolis will take -part in the parade, and battleships of the Navy will be ordered to the -Potomac to add to the pompous function.</p> - -<p>From the White House to Capitol Hill, Pennsylvania avenue is to be -built up on either side with statuary and decorations and plaster work, -which will at least wear the mask of regal magnificence.</p> - -<p>The Government will turn its Pension Bureau out of house and home, -suspending public work, in order that Society’s beaux and belles may -have the most magnificent ball ever known since our Government was -founded.</p> - -<p>First and last, directly and indirectly, it is quite within the range -of the probable that the public and private expenditure of money in -connection with Mr. Roosevelt’s inauguration will approach, if not -exceed, a million dollars.</p> - -<p>Is it in good taste for the representative of a democratic republic to -give his sanction to such prodigalities as these?</p> - -<p>Mr. Roosevelt is bound to know that there are ten millions of his -fellow-citizens, fashioned by the same God out of the same sort of -clay, who are today in want—lacking the necessaries of life.</p> - -<p>He is bound to know that in this land, which they tell us is so -prosperous, there are now four million paupers.</p> - -<p>He is bound to know that there are at least one million half-starved -children working in our factories, wearing out their little lives at -the wheels of labor, in order that the favorites of class legislation -may pile up the wealth which enables them to dine sumptuously off -vessels of silver and gold.</p> - -<p>He is bound to know that in one city of his native State of New York -there are at least half a million of his brother mortals who never have -enough to eat, and that seventy thousand children trudge to the public -schools, hungry as they go.</p> - -<p>He is bound to know that all over the Southern States hangs a shadow -and a fear, because an industrious people, whose toil brought forth -a bountiful harvest, are being driven by a remorseless speculative -combine into misery and desperation.</p> - -<p>It would have been a proof of excellent judgment if the robust manhood -of Theodore Roosevelt had asserted itself against the snobbery of our -shoddy “Society” in Washington, by reducing the ceremonial of his -inauguration to the modest measure of what was decorous and necessary.</p> - -<p>It is no time for ostentatious display of military power or of -ill-gotten wealth. It is no time to be acting the ape of a German -Kaiser or an English King. It is no time to allow free rein to a rotten -Nobility of Money-bags, which seeks to turn the simple swearing-in of -the Chief Servant of a free people—freely chosen by ballot—into a -quasi-royal coronation of an hereditary beneficiary of the monstrous -dogma of Divine Right.</p> - -<p><i>One</i> of Mr. Roosevelt’s predecessors had long been familiar with -courts and princes and kings, and they had filled him with so deep a -contempt for idle, vain and pompous display that when he came to be -inaugurated President of the United States he simply gathered around -him a few of those who were at his hotel, walked with them up Capitol -Hill, took the oath of office before his assembled fellow-citizens and -delivered to them his inaugural address—which still ranks as a classic -in the political literature of the world. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> - -<p>This President was he who broke the power of the Barbary Pirates to -whom Washington had paid tribute. He it was who by the daring seizure -of opportunity gained Louisiana and raised this Republic from its place -as a power of the third class into the dignity of a nation of the first -class, by a sweep of his pen, lifting our Western boundary from the -Mississippi and setting it on the coast line of the Pacific.</p> - -<p>His inauguration was simplicity itself, but his administration was full -of the grandeur of great deeds accomplished.</p> - -<p><i>This was Thomas Jefferson.</i></p> - -<p><i>Another</i> of Mr. Roosevelt’s predecessors had been <i>a hero in three -wars</i>. In the Revolutionary War he had fought bravely, though only a -boy. In the Indian wars he had led armies from the upper Chattahoochee -to the Gulf of Mexico, adding an empire to our domain. In the War of -1812 he had taken the volunteers of the South, and at New Orleans had -whipped the veterans of Wellington as English soldiers had never been -whipped before and have never been whipped since.</p> - -<p>Entering civil life, this great soldier dashed himself against the -power of Clay, Webster and Calhoun, triumphing over them all.</p> - -<p>Yet when he came to be inaugurated President of the Republic whose -glory and power he had so greatly increased, it contented him to go -quietly from the old Metropolitan Hotel, accompanied by the Marshal of -the District and a volunteer escort, to take the oath of office in the -Senate Chamber, without the slightest attempt at pompous ceremonial.</p> - -<p>The great soldier was honored by a salute fired by the local military, -and, with that salute, the function ended.</p> - -<p><i>This was Andrew Jackson.</i></p> - -<p>I do not say that times have not changed and that customs have not -altered, but I do say that the sober judgment of the judicious, -throughout the country, would have profoundly approved the course of -Mr. Roosevelt had he put the curb upon the snobs and the flunkies and -the imitation courtiers, who are about to distinguish his inauguration -by an excess of military display, ornamental frippery, tommy-rot -formalities and prodigal expenditure of money such as has not been -known since Edward the Seventh was crowned King of England.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="f120"><i>Elucidations</i></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Fads</span>—Other people’s hobbies.</p> -<p class="neg-indent"><span class="smcap">Allowance</span>—A sum of money we spend before we get it.</p> -<p class="neg-indent"><span class="smcap">Pessimist</span>—A person who is perfectly happy only when - he is perfectly miserable.</p> -<p class="neg-indent"><span class="smcap">Hush Money</span>—The kind that talks most.</p> -<p class="neg-indent"><span class="smcap">A Distant Relative</span>—A rich one.</p> -<p class="neg-indent"><span class="smcap">Bargain Counter</span>—A place where women buy things they don’t - want with money they do want.</p> -<p class="neg-indent"><span class="smcap">Weather Report</span>—One that is not always verified.</p> -<p class="neg-indent"><span class="smcap">Honeymoon</span>—The brief period before the novelty wears off.</p> -<p class="neg-indent"><span class="smcap">Notoriety</span>—Something that doesn’t last so long as fame, - but brings in more money.</p> -<p class="neg-indent"><span class="smcap">The Simple Life</span>—The existence led by people who invest - in get-rich-quick schemes.</p> -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">J. J. O’Connell.</span> - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="PALACE" id="PALACE"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The Palace</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-above1 space-below1">BY EDWIN MARKHAM<br /> -(Copyright by Edwin Markham in Great Britain)<br /> -<i>Author of “The Man With the Hoe” and other poems</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="bigfont">O</span>NCE, in a world that has gone down to dust,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I began to build a palace by the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">White-pillared, in a garden full of fountains.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mock-birds in the tall magnolias sang;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And down all ways the Graces and the Joys<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Went ever beckoning with wreathing arms.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The chisels and the hammers of the men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were singing merrily among the stones,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tower and gable rose against the sky.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A thousand friends,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All hastening to make ready for the feast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Felt their light bodies whirling in the ball;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were jesting and roaring at the tables spread<br /></span> -<span class="i0">After the masquerade; were sleeping high<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In perfumed chambers under the quiet stars;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When, lo! a voice came crying through my heart:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Leave all thou hast, and come and follow Me!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then all at once the hammers and the tongues<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grew still around me, and the multitudes—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The endless multitudes that ache in chains<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That we may have our laughter at the wine—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rose spectral and dark to pass before my face.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I saw the labor-ruined forms of men;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Faces of women worn by many tears;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Faces of little children old in youth.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I left the towers to crumble in the rains,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And waste upon the winds: my old-time friends<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flung out their fleering laughters after me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I raised a low roof by a traveled road,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And softly turned to give myself to man—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To open wells along a trodden way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To build a wall against the sliding sand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To raise a light upon a dangerous coast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When suddenly I found me in a Palace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With God for Guest!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There in a Palace, fairer than my dream, I dwell:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">High company come and go through distant-sounding doors. - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="JUNGLE" id="JUNGLE"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The House in the Jungle</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-above1 space-below1">BY ST. CLAIR BEALL<br /> -<i>Author of “The Winning of Sarenne,” etc.</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">“WE are almost there now, sir; we have passed the last -of the lighthouses.”</p> - -<p>The speaker and another man were standing beside the cabin of a -small steamer; they were clad in heavy oilskins, and were sheltering -themselves from the fierce storm that was beating down.</p> - -<p>“I don’t see how you can tell,” the other remarked, “or how you can see -anything in this weather!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s my business,” was the reply of the first speaker, who was -one of the officers of the ship. “I have been over this same route for -thirty years.”</p> - -<p>“What sort of a town is St. Pierre?” inquired the other, a young man, -also heavily wrapped.</p> - -<p>“It is not of much consequence,” was the answer. “But—but you don’t -mean to stay there?”</p> - -<p>“No,” was the reply. “I am bound for the interior; I shall take a train -tonight, if I can catch it.”</p> - -<p>“I should think you would find it rather difficult to get along in -this country,” the other remarked. “You say you don’t speak a word of -French?”</p> - -<p>“No,” was the laughing reply. “I chose German when I was at school, and -I don’t know enough of that to hurt me; but where I am going I have a -cousin who is in charge of some of the mines, and I suppose I will get -along if I can find him.”</p> - -<p>“You ought not to have any trouble in that,” replied the officer. “The -only railroad depot is very near the wharf.”</p> - -<p>The conversation was taking place on board a small coasting steamer, -which was making its way slowly through the darkness and storm into the -port of the little town of St. Pierre, in French Guiana. The solitary -passenger was Henry Roberts, an American, who found himself at last -near the end of a long and tedious journey—half by railroad and half -by steamer—along the South American coast.</p> - -<p>“Four days,” he muttered to himself, “and not a soul to speak to but -this one stray fellow-countryman! Between Spanish and French and Dutch -my head is in a whirl. Gee whiz! What a night!”</p> - -<p>The exclamation was prompted by an unusually violent gust of wind, -which flung itself around the edge of the cabin and compelled the -passenger to make a precipitate retreat into the hot and ill-lighted -interior. However, it was not very long before his impatience was -relieved. The vessel was slowing up still more, and he hurried up on -deck again, where, from the shouts of the crew, he made out that the -dock was near.</p> - -<p>“I wish you luck!” said the officer, as they parted. “I have looked -up a time-table, and there is a train due to leave in about an hour; -it probably won’t start for three or four more, after the fashion of -the country, so you will have plenty of time. You ought to reach your -destination before morning, however.”</p> - -<p>And soon afterward Henry Roberts with a satchel in either hand, made -his way across the rickety gangplank and set out as fast as he dared -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> -down the unlighted dock. He was gruffly held up by someone who greeted -him in French, and left him uncertain for a few minutes as to whether -or not he was a highwayman. It proved, however, to be merely a -custom-house officer, and after the usual ceremony of tipping had been -gone through with, the passenger once more set out.</p> - -<p>He was half expecting to be greeted by a row of cabmen, but if any such -existed in St. Pierre they had been frightened away by the storm, and -he was compelled to find his way to the station by himself. He found -only a dimly lighted shed, with apparently no person in sight. To his -great relief, however, the train arrived only a short time afterward, -and he made his way into the stuffy car, which was lighted only by an -ill-smelling oil lamp at one end.</p> - -<p>There was another long wait before the train finally started, having on -board only one other passenger besides Roberts.</p> - -<p>This person was, apparently, either an Englishman or an American—a -tall, slenderly built man with an exceedingly pale face. As he came -into the car very silently and seated himself at the extreme end, -turning away as if to escape observation, Roberts refrained from -attempting to open a conversation with him.</p> - -<p>Though he did not understand a word of French, he had the name of his -station firmly settled in his mind and lost no time in impressing it -upon the conductor of the train. When he had made certain that the -latter perfectly understood his meaning he sank back in the seat and -closed his eyes with a peaceful feeling that at last his troubles -were over. The road was, however, a remarkably ill-built one and the -car swayed in such a manner that he found it impossible to secure a -moment’s rest. He fell at last to watching the other passenger.</p> - -<p>This person had at first remained with his head sunk forward as if in -thought; but the ride had continued only about half an hour before -Roberts saw that his fellow-traveler was looking up and gazing about -nervously. Several times he leaned forward suddenly, as if to spring to -his feet, but each time he again sank back, and once the American heard -him mutter a subdued exclamation to himself.</p> - -<p>He seemed to be growing more and more excited. And then suddenly came -the climax of the whole unusual performance. The man bounded to a -standing position, an expression of the wildest terror on his face. “I -can’t do it!” he gasped, in a choking voice. An instant later he leaped -forward.</p> - -<p>There was a window in front of him, and for an instant Roberts thought -that he meant to fling himself from it. But, instead, the man reached -for the bell-rope and gave it a fierce jerk.</p> - -<p>The effect was immediate, the train at once beginning to slow up. The -strange man turned and rushed down the car, his eyes gleaming and his -arms waving wildly. “I can’t do it!” he cried again and again. “I can’t -do it!”</p> - -<p>In a second or two more he had passed Roberts and bounded out of the -rear door, where he disappeared in the darkness.</p> - -<p>At the same time the conductor, who had apparently been on the engine, -came rushing back to ascertain what was the matter. As the two hurried -back to the rear platform Roberts managed to make the man understand -what had occurred.</p> - -<p>“The fellow must have been crazy,” Roberts thought to himself, as he -gazed out into the blackness of the night. “At any rate,” he added, “it -is not likely that we will see anything more of him.”</p> - -<p>The conductor was evidently of the same opinion, for after several -minutes of waiting and after a consultation with the engineer, the -train was again started and the journey continued.</p> - -<p>The conductor signified to Roberts that the next stop was his -destination, and a quarter of an hour later he found himself in the -midst of absolute blackness. The train had started on at once, and the -passenger stood for several minutes uncertain which way to turn, for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> -there was not a house, nor even so much as a platform beneath his feet.</p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p>At last, however, as his eyes grew used to the darkness, he managed to -make out what appeared to be some kind of structure nearby, and toward -it he stumbled. It was a small shed, in the shelter of which he stopped.</p> - -<p>“Good heavens!” he muttered to himself. “What kind of a town can this -be?”</p> - -<p>His cousin had unfortunately not known when he was to arrive, and the -mines, as he knew, were a number of miles away, so he had nothing to -hope for from that quarter.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps there is only this shed and the road!” he groaned to himself. -“Not even a hotel!”</p> - -<p>There was no sign of one, at any rate, and the storm did not encourage -efforts at exploration. “Perhaps if I give a few yells it will bring -somebody,” thought Roberts.</p> - -<p>He reflected that it was as likely to bring a wildcat as anything else, -but he determined to risk the effort. He had scarcely opened his mouth, -however, before his shout was answered; and at the same moment his ear -was caught by the sound of a vehicle behind him.</p> - -<p>He waited anxiously. He heard the carriage come to a stop and then a -couple of men walking about. They came toward the shed, and he found -himself confronted by two dark forms, heavily wrapped as a protection -against the storm.</p> - -<p>“<i>Bien venu, monsieur</i>,” remarked one of the strangers. He extended -his hand, and Roberts, supposing that that might be the custom of the -country, put out his own and exchanged greetings.</p> - -<p>“<i>Monsieur est arrivé?</i>” continued the other. “<i>Un très longue voyage!</i>”</p> - -<p>Roberts’s reply to that was only a melancholy shake of his head. “What -in the world did I study German for?” he groaned to himself.</p> - -<p>“<i>Vous ne comprenez pas?</i>” continued the mysterious Frenchman.</p> - -<p>A vigorous shake of the head was the American’s only reply. “Don’t you -speak English?”</p> - -<p>The only result was likewise a negative shaking of the head, and the -American gave a groan.</p> - -<p>“I want a hotel!” he exclaimed. “Can you tell me where to go? What in -the world am I going to do?”</p> - -<p>There was a minute or two more of rather embarrassing silence. Then the -spokesman of the two strangers gave a hearty laugh.</p> - -<p>“<i>Allons!</i>” he said. “<i>Cela ne fait rien.</i>”</p> - -<p>And, to Roberts’s surprise, he stooped down and picked up one of his -traveling-bags.</p> - -<p>“<i>Allons!</i>” he cried again. “<i>Allons!</i>”</p> - -<p>The man took the traveler by the arm and escorted him to the carriage, -which had remained standing in the darkness. In a few seconds more the -American and his baggage were inside and being rapidly driven off down -the muddy road.</p> - -<p>“Well, this is an adventure!” thought Roberts to himself. “Either I -have come across some charitable stranger or else the hotel here runs a -stage—I don’t know which to think!”</p> - -<p>During the ride the two men made no further attempt to communicate with -him. Roberts heard them speak to each other once or twice in a low -voice, but for the most of the time the drive was made in silence.</p> - -<p>“At any rate,” he thought, with a chuckle, “it can’t do me any harm, -and I shall get out of the rain.”</p> - -<p>Before the trip was over, however, Roberts found himself beginning -to feel somewhat uncomfortable because of the length of it. “Good -heavens!” he muttered, “it can’t be a hotel this distance away, and for -all I know, I may be going in exactly the opposite direction from the -mines!”</p> - -<p>He had already been sitting in the bumping vehicle for an hour when -he made that reflection; however, he was given fully another hour to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> -ruminate over it before the drive came to an end. Several times he made -an attempt to inquire from the strangers where or how much farther -he was going, but his efforts met with no success, and a “<i>Soyez -tranquille</i>,” was all he could get, accompanied by a gentle motion of -pushing him back into the seat.</p> - -<p>He had about made up his mind to trouble himself no further when the -carriage suddenly made a sharp turn and came to a stop; one of the men -opened the door and stepped out.</p> - -<p>There was a few seconds’ wait, during which several voices were heard -calling outside; and then suddenly Roberts, who was gazing out of the -window with not a little anxiety, caught sight of a light, apparently -in the window of a house. Only a short distance from the carriage a -flood of light suddenly streamed before his eyes, coming from an open -doorway.</p> - -<p>He saw several figures moving about, and at the same time the other man -in the carriage sprang quickly out.</p> - -<p>“<i>Nous sommes arrivés!</i>” he exclaimed. “<i>Voici!</i>”</p> - -<p>And Roberts lost no time in taking his other satchel and springing out -of the carriage. As he did so he found himself covered by an umbrella -held by a shadowy form near him, and under the protection of this he -hurried up the path and the steps to the house.</p> - -<p>By this time more lights had appeared in the windows, and by the single -glance which he had Roberts saw that he was in front of a very large -building, consisting of at least two stories, and with extremely broad -and, at present, brilliantly lighted windows. It was only a few seconds -later before he found himself in the entrance, which he discovered to -be apparently that of an elegant mansion.</p> - -<p>“Good gracious!” he thought, “I wasn’t prepared for a house like this!”</p> - -<p>But there were still greater surprises in store for him. He found that -on either side of the doorway two domestics were standing, bowing -obsequiously at his entrance. The person who had obligingly covered him -with the umbrella proved to be an attendant, similarly attired, and as -Roberts entered the house one stepped forward for his satchel, and the -other took his rain-soaked hat as he removed it; a second later the -astonished man found himself being graciously relieved of his dripping -overcoat by yet another obliging personage.</p> - -<p>In the meantime he was gazing about him; what he saw fairly took his -breath away. He was no more prepared for such things than if he had -been traveling in the wilds of Africa. He found himself in the midst -of a broad, well-lighted hallway, on either side of which opened -splendid parlors containing every conceivable kind of luxurious -appointment—splendid furniture and tapestry, mirrors and pictures. -In the hall he saw a broad, open fireplace, in which a great log was -blazing, casting a glow in every direction.</p> - -<p>While Roberts was staring at it, and feeling his heart expand with -satisfaction, one of his traveling companions carrying the other -satchel, had come hurrying into the room. He took off his hat and -flung back his heavy coat, disclosing to the American’s view a rather -stout and short elderly personage, with a gray beard and an extremely -pleasant countenance.</p> - -<p>“He looks promising, at any rate,” thought Roberts, “even if I can’t -understand what he says!”</p> - -<p>The man, after handing his coat to one of the domestics, bowed -graciously to Roberts with another “<i>Bien venu, monsieur!</i>” Then he -signaled the American to make himself comfortable before the fire, and -Roberts lost no time in following his host’s suggestion, as he had been -wet and cold for many hours.</p> - -<p>“If this is an inn,” the stranger thought in the meantime—“gee whiz! -but what will the bill be!”</p> - -<p>All his belongings had by this time been carried away by the servants -and he was left alone with his obliging host. The latter, after rubbing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> -his hands a few times before the fire and surveying his guest with -considerable interest, suddenly demanded:</p> - -<p>“<i>Avez-vous faim, monsieur?</i>”</p> - -<p>The American, of course, did not understand that, but he comprehended -the signal a second later, and nodded his head vigorously. The other -called for one of the servants and gave him a command.</p> - -<p>The latter signed to Roberts to precede him up the broad staircase -which opened into the hallway, and he soon found himself in front of an -open door which led into a beautifully furnished bedroom. He entered, -and the man followed, closing the door behind him.</p> - -<p>Roberts gazed about him with something of a gasp of consternation. Here -also was a grate fire, before which his hat and coat had been hung. -The rest of his baggage had been brought into the room, and lying upon -the bed he found a complete change of clothing, lacking nothing, from -necktie down to evening slippers.</p> - -<p>Almost before he had half succeeded in comprehending the state of -affairs the servant, after several profuse bows, had set to work calmly -removing his clothing.</p> - -<p>Roberts was not used to a valet, but he concluded to keep the secret as -well as possible and meekly allowed himself to be dressed. Half an hour -later he was completely equipped, and the servant darted briskly to the -door and opened it with an overwhelming bow.</p> - -<p>“If this is a hotel, it beats anything New York can show,” was the -traveler’s decision by this time. “And if it is not a hotel, it can -only be a fairy-story!”</p> - -<p>However, without troubling his head any further, he followed the -servant down the stairs, at the end of which he found his genial host -awaiting his arrival. The latter immediately took his arm and escorted -him through one of the parlors, at the other end of which a door was -flung open by the servant.</p> - -<p>A little dining-room was disclosed to his view—a dining-room so -perfect in all its furnishings that it cost him an effort to restrain -an exclamation. The table was a small one, but was perfectly appointed, -with cut-glass and silver, and there were several small lamps upon it.</p> - -<p>There were seats for only two, and after the Frenchman had seated his -guest he himself took the other chair. Then a dinner was served which -was the first respectable meal the American had eaten since he left home.</p> - -<p>He had by this time determined to enjoy himself and let his cousin pay -the bill, if necessary; so he made no attempt to restrain his appetite. -His host evidently expected him to be hungry after his journey, for he -plied him with every conceivable variety of eatables.</p> - -<p>“Where in the world can they get them all from?” Roberts thought. “I -have been expecting to live on beans and bacon up at the mines!”</p> - -<p>To be sure it was rather an embarrassing meal, from one point of view, -for the utmost in the way of conversation which could be managed was an -occasional exchange of smiles between the two persons. “But if we could -talk there might be an end to this state of affairs!” thought Roberts. -“And I have no mind to be turned out until daylight, anyway.”</p> - -<p>By this time his cogitations over the strange condition of things -had resulted in the conclusion that it could not possibly be an inn -to which he had come. “It must be some kind of a private house,” he -thought. “But what in the world is it doing away off up here in this -lonely, God-forsaken country, and what the people want to do with me is -more than I can imagine. I can’t help thinking it is a mistake of some -kind; and I wonder who can live here—surely, not this queer little -fellow, all by himself!”</p> - -<p>Roberts had seen no one else except the servants, but this did not seem -strange when he came to think of it, for on the mantelpiece was a clock -which informed him that it was then nearly two in the morning.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I will find out more when day comes,” he thought. “I am safe -for tonight, anyhow, I think.” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> - -<p>And so it proved, for when at last the meal was over, the Frenchman -rose and politely bowed his new acquaintance to the door. There he -summoned one of the servants, again bowed to Roberts with a “<i>Bonne -nuit, monsieur!</i>” and, after shaking hands, Roberts turned to follow -the servant up the stairway.</p> - -<p>The two made their way into the bedroom which the American had visited -before, and where he found that his baggage had been all unpacked -and neatly stowed away in a bureau in the room. The servant bowed -his departure at the door, which was closed behind him, and then the -astounded stranger sat down on the bed and, as the ludicrousness of the -situation and the whole proceedings flashed over him, he flung himself -back and gave vent to a silent fit of laughter.</p> - -<p>“This will certainly be a story to tell if I ever get home again!” he thought.</p> - -<p>But he was too sleepy by this time to trouble himself any further, and -he rose and prepared to make the most of the opportunity afforded him -for slumber. “I guess I will just take off my coat,” he thought, “for I -don’t know when the mistake may be discovered.”</p> - -<p>As he performed that operation his hand happened to strike upon his -back-pocket, where he had safely stowed away a small revolver. “If there -<i>should</i> turn out to be anything wrong!” he thought, with a laugh.</p> - -<p>All during that evening the man had been racking his brains trying to -think of some possible explanation of his strange reception. During -the drive he had been somewhat alarmed, but his welcome had served to -remove any suspicion of possible danger. But just then, as he gazed -about the room, he suddenly observed something which gave a most -unexpected turn to his thoughts.</p> - -<p>The room to which he had been ushered was a large bedroom, perfectly -furnished in every way, and having two broad windows; it was the latter -which suddenly caught Roberts’s eye, and as they did so he experienced a -start of emotion that was very different from his former state.</p> - -<p>He had noticed the startling fact that both of the two windows were -protected by heavy iron bars!</p> - -<p>For a minute or two Roberts stood gazing at them, scarcely able to -realize the full significance of the discovery. He darted a swift -glance about the room to make sure that he was alone, and then he -sprang quickly forward to test them. He found that they were firmly set -in the heavy masonry of the window-sill, and that they were scarcely -wide enough apart to permit his arms to pass through.</p> - -<p>Then the very decidedly sobered American sank back in a chair and again -gazed about him.</p> - -<p>“I can scarcely think it means any danger,” he muttered to himself, -“for I am unable to think what kind of danger it could be—but yet, it -is most extraordinary!”</p> - -<p>Suddenly another idea came to his mind and brought him to his feet -with a jump. He sprang toward the door, and as he approached it half -instinctively he began stepping more quietly until as he neared it he -was advancing on tiptoe.</p> - -<p>“One of those fellows in livery may be outside,” he thought.</p> - -<p>Then he took hold of the knob and very softly and silently turned it. -When it was turned all the way he gave a slight push at the door, which -opened outward.</p> - -<p>And as he did so he felt the blood rush to his forehead and his breath -almost stopped. He flung his weight against the door violently, but it -did not move. Almost overcome with his discovery, he staggered back -against the wall.</p> - -<p>“By Jove!” he panted, “I am locked in!”</p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p>Roberts began pacing very anxiously up and down the floor of the room. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> -He did not continue that for very many minutes, however, before he -stopped abruptly and again seated himself in the chair.</p> - -<p>“There is something wrong here,” he muttered, “mighty wrong! But I -don’t want them to know I have discovered it.”</p> - -<p>He sat for several minutes with his head in his hands, gazing straight -in front of him, his mind in a perfect tumult. He was absolutely -without any possible idea as to what that state of affairs could mean -or what object his mysterious host could possibly have in taking him -prisoner.</p> - -<p>“There is one comfort, however,” he muttered. “Heaven is to be thanked -for that!”</p> - -<p>He took the revolver from his pocket as he muttered the words; all of -its chambers were loaded, and he put it back into his pocket with a -slight chuckle of satisfaction.</p> - -<p>“I guess they didn’t count on that. They have got me in here, but it’ll -be another thing to get me out!”</p> - -<p>There was but very little idea of sleep left in his mind. When at last -he had decided that there was no solving the mystery with the few facts -that he knew, he began stealthily moving about the room and examining -everything in it.</p> - -<p>Directly at the head of the bed he found a handsome portiere hanging, -and as he reached behind this he discovered that there was another door -to the apartment.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps they haven’t locked that,” he thought. “I wonder where it leads to?”</p> - -<p>He slipped in behind the curtain and proceeded to test that door also. -He set about the matter with the utmost caution, for by this time he -was firmly convinced that it was more than likely that someone was -keeping watch outside of his room.</p> - -<p>The prisoner had really very little idea of finding the door unlocked; -he did not think it likely that his captors would have neglected that -precaution, and he was thoroughly prepared to spend the rest of the -night in his prison. Such being the case, his surprise and delight may -be imagined when, upon turning the knob and pushing softly, he found -the door giving way before him.</p> - -<p>His heart was thumping with excitement as he made this discovery, and -inch by inch he opened the barrier wider. He could see nothing, for -the curtain back of him shut out the light from his own room and the -next apartment appeared absolutely dark. However, when it was opened -wide enough for him to slip in, Roberts stole cautiously forward, and -was soon standing on the floor of the other room. All about him was -absolutely dark and silent, but he groped around him for some distance -before he finally concluded to go back and get a little light.</p> - -<p>From a notebook in his pocket he tore several pages, which served him -for a small taper; and by this he made the discovery with consternation -that the apartment into which he had come was a tiny cell, not more -than fifteen feet square. There was a square window, high up from the -ground and heavily barred. By the faint light which he had Roberts saw -that the walls of the place were all stone, and that the door through -which he had come was composed of iron!</p> - -<p>“Great heavens!” he gasped. “I am in a fearful trap, as sure as I’m alive!”</p> - -<p>He gripped his revolver in his hand, turned, and once more crept back -into his own room to wait. However, he found that everything there was -as silent as before, and after some little meditation over the problem -he removed several more pages from his notebook and set out for another -exploration.</p> - -<p>He had noticed on the other side of that tiny cell another door, -exactly like the first. “I wonder where that leads?” he thought; and -this time he twisted his tiny taper so as to make it last longer, and -then again crept forward.</p> - -<p>He darted across the stone floor and paused before the other iron door. -There was a keyhole there through which he could see a light shining, -but he could make out nothing by peering through. After pausing and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> -listening for several seconds and hearing absolutely no sound of any -kind, he determined upon a bold expedient.</p> - -<p>“I am here,” he thought, “probably for good. I am likely to have a -fight whenever I try to get out, so it might as well be now as any -time, for it will be an advantage to take the other people unawares.”</p> - -<p>And his mind once made up on that point Roberts softly turned the knob -of the door. As he did so he pushed against it; but it did not yield.</p> - -<p>There was another effect, however, one which caused him to give a start -of alarm. The sound he had made had evidently been heard, for on the -other side he heard a soft exclamation and then a footstep in the room.</p> - -<p>“That settles it!” Roberts murmured. “They have heard me!”</p> - -<p>He pushed at the door still harder and then gave a savage lunge; but -the barrier remained firm, and he knew that it was locked.</p> - -<p>At the same instant the sound of moving became much more distinct, and -Roberts, without a second’s hesitation, turned and sprang back toward -his own room. “It is better to be caught there than here,” he thought -in a flash.</p> - -<p>But before he had taken half a dozen steps he was stopped by a new and -unexpected development. He heard a voice behind him, coming through the -crack in the door he had been trying.</p> - -<p>“Who’s there?” it cried. “Who’s there?”</p> - -<p>And the words were in English!</p> - -<p>The voice was a low whisper. In an instant it occurred to Roberts that -this might be a friend, a prisoner like himself! He turned and crept -back toward the door.</p> - -<p>“Who are you?” he cried.</p> - -<p>His heart was beating so wildly with the excitement that he could -scarcely hear the reply of the other person, who still whispered in a -very low tone.</p> - -<p>“An American,” was the reply. “Are you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Roberts, “I am.”</p> - -<p>“And have they got you, too?” panted the other breathlessly.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” answered Roberts, “they have got me. What in the world does it mean?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” said the other, “I haven’t an idea!”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean that you are kept prisoner here without knowing why?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, without the faintest idea; absolutely!” came the breathless -whisper from the keyhole. “Don’t talk too loud, or they will hear you, -and then heaven knows what fearful things may happen to you! How long -have you been here?”</p> - -<p>“I only came tonight,” Roberts whispered. “And you?”</p> - -<p>As he heard the reply it was all he could do to keep his balance; he -clutched at the rough stone wall to sustain himself. The man’s voice -was reduced almost to a moan as he answered:</p> - -<p>“I have been here twenty years!”</p> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<p>Every drop of blood seemed to leave Roberts’s face, and his head fairly swam.</p> - -<p>“Twenty years!” he gasped to himself. “In heaven’s name, what can it mean?”</p> - -<p>Those words seemed to him to cap the climax of the night’s experiences, -and he stood as he was for fully a minute without speaking or asking -another question of the inmate of the other room. When suddenly the -silence was broken, it was by the other.</p> - -<p>“Are you sure no one has heard you?” panted the man.</p> - -<p>Roberts sprang to his feet and crept swiftly toward his own room. He -peered out around the front of the bed, but a single glance was enough -to show him that the door was still shut, and that there was no longer -any sign of trouble. Then once more he came back and stooped before the -keyhole.</p> - -<p>“Tell me,” he gasped breathlessly, “tell me your story. How did it -happen? Where were you?”</p> - -<p>“I lived in Caracas, in Venezuela,” the other responded. “I was in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> -business there for years. One day I was surprised in my own house by -three men, who overpowered me and drove me away in a carriage. They -drugged me in some way or other, for the next time I knew anything I -was a prisoner in this room.”</p> - -<p>“And you have stayed there ever since?” panted Roberts, almost beside -himself with horror.</p> - -<p>“For twenty years!” the man responded.</p> - -<p>“And you have made no attempt to get out?”</p> - -<p>“What good would it do?” cried the other. “They have iron bars for all -the windows and they keep my door locked.”</p> - -<p>“How do they pass you food?” inquired Roberts. “They must open the door.”</p> - -<p>“Why, yes,” the man answered, “they open the door, but what good does -that do? There are always a half-dozen men standing in the doorway, and -they would overpower me if I made any resistance.”</p> - -<p>As Henry Roberts listened to that narrative he could scarcely believe -the evidences of his own senses. He had long ago given up any attempt -to think what could be the explanation of this extraordinary state of -affairs. He made one more attempt upon the door, but that apparently -caused the utmost terror to the other man.</p> - -<p>“You can’t do it,” he said. “It is locked, and that Frenchman has the key.”</p> - -<p>“What Frenchman?” asked Roberts.</p> - -<p>“The man who is in charge of this place,” said the other. “The one -whose prisoner I am.”</p> - -<p>“Is he a short, stout man, with gray hair?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” was the reply, “that is he.”</p> - -<p>Roberts shuddered involuntarily.</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t speak of him!” continued the other breathlessly. “He is a -fiend! A perfect fiend!”</p> - -<p>“What did he do?” panted Roberts.</p> - -<p>“I cannot tell you all,” was the reply. “It would be too horrible. He -is the master of this place and it is he who keeps me prisoner. On no -account resist him or cry out for help—it is utterly useless.”</p> - -<p>Roberts felt a grim smile cross his face as he heard those words; he -clutched his revolver tightly.</p> - -<p>“I will risk it,” he thought. “They will have to open that door to give -me some food!”</p> - -<p>“They never fail to watch this door,” the voice whispered in response -to an inquiry from Roberts. “They will hear me and come in here, and -then—then——”</p> - -<p>There was an instant or two of silence, during which Roberts waited -for the man to continue. But he did not do so. For suddenly the deep -silence which reigned through the place was broken by a different -sound, one that made the American’s hair fairly rise. It was as if the -teeth of the other man were chattering audibly.</p> - -<p>“They are coming!” he whispered in a low gasp, as if he were trying -to speak but dared not. And then a second later Roberts’s ears were -smitten by a loud, piercing scream. He heard the man bound to his feet.</p> - -<p>“No! no!” he shrieked. “Stop! You shall not! It was not my fault!”</p> - -<p>At the same instant came the sound of several muffled footsteps about -the room, and, in another voice, several words which Roberts could not -understand.</p> - -<p>The agonized screams of the other person grew louder and louder, -accompanied by sounds which told plainly of a struggle. They lasted for -only a few seconds, however, and then came a crash and all was silent.</p> - -<p>During that incident Henry Roberts had remained crouching at the door, -too horrified to move, but, as the sounds died away, for the first time -he thought of his own peril and was on his feet with a single spring. -He turned and dashed across the floor of the cell. But even as he did -so he realized that the few seconds’ hesitation had cost him everything.</p> - -<p>The curtain of his bedroom was suddenly pushed aside, and a hand reached -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> -in to grasp the door. Like a flash Roberts swung up his revolver and -leveled it, but before he could pull the trigger the iron barrier shut -to with a clang that seemed to shake every portion of the man’s body.</p> - -<p>He was a prisoner in the cell!</p> - -<p>The American leaned back against the wall, where he stood panting for -breath and clutching his weapon, staring about him wildly and striving -to pierce the darkness. The effort was vain, however, and the absolute -silence that prevailed afforded him not the slightest clue as to what -was going on.</p> - -<p>He realized with a sinking heart what an advantage he had lost by -failing to take possession of the large room where he had a light. But -even as he was, with his revolver in his hand, he concluded, after a -few swift thoughts, that his case was not entirely hopeless.</p> - -<p>“They will have to open the door some time,” he gasped, “and they may -not know that I have got a revolver.”</p> - -<p>There was, however, the fearful possibility that his mysterious captor -might see fit to starve him out. The American realized that he would be -absolutely helpless before that.</p> - -<p>“But there is a window,” he thought; “perhaps I can shout and attract -attention.”</p> - -<p>Prompted by that thought, he felt his way along the wall until he -reached the opening in question. He raised himself up and peered -between the bars; but it was only to make one more discovery. The -window was closed by an iron shutter or drop, which resisted all his -efforts to move it.</p> - -<p>“And I am in here without a breath of air!” he thought.</p> - -<p>The whispered words had scarcely passed his lips before the last -climax of his mysterious experiences arrived. Suddenly a strange smell -attracted his attention, and as he discovered the cause he gave a gasp -of despair.</p> - -<p>The room was slowly filling with a gas!</p> - -<p>Roberts even then fancied that he could hear the sound of it entering -through some pipe which he could not find. Every second that certainty -was made more and more plain to him, and he darted forward perfectly -beside himself with desperation. He flung himself savagely against -the iron door, but it seemed to laugh at his efforts. He seized the -knob and tugged savagely, but with no effect. He stooped down at the -keyhole, hoping in that way to escape the new and horrible fate, but he -found that it also had been closed, and as he rushed across the room to -the other door exactly the same experience was repeated.</p> - -<p>In the meantime he had, of course, been breathing the poisoned air of -the tiny cell. The deadly fumes were becoming stronger and stronger, -causing him to gasp and his head to reel. Twice more he threw all -his weight against the door in vain, and then, clutching the knob to -sustain himself, he stood for a second or two, swaying this way and -that, gasping and striving to hold his breath to keep out the choking vapor.</p> - -<p>Then everything reeled before him, and he found himself clutching -wildly in every direction. The revolver dropped from his helpless -grasp, and a second later he pitched forward upon the floor of his -cell. At the very same instant one of the doors was flung open and -a flood of light poured into the place. It was the last thing he -perceived as consciousness left him.</p> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<p>How long a time Roberts remained unconscious after he had been -overpowered in the room of the mysterious house it was impossible for -him to say. When his senses returned to him he was in a sort of stupor. -As one half awake he became conscious of being carried about by someone.</p> - -<p>He was too dazed to think about his situation or to realize what had -occurred to him, nor was he even conscious of the lapse of time; but -gradually his senses came back to him more and more, to a recognition -of his terrible plight in the hands of mysterious enemies in the midst -of that wild country.</p> - -<p>With what little strength he had he tried to raise himself, and found -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> -that both his hands and feet were tightly bound; also a bandage was -tied tightly about his eyes, so that he could not see anything. He was -too weak to make any outcry, and could only give himself up helplessly -to his captors.</p> - -<p>Several times he heard people speaking in his neighborhood, but as the -language was still French he obtained no clue as to what had happened -to him in the meantime.</p> - -<p>“At any rate,” he thought, “it is something to be alive—<i>that</i> is -more than I expected.”</p> - -<p>It was not long after this he was picked up again by two men, who -apparently carried him down a flight of steps. By this time Roberts had -recovered his wits and was anxiously trying to discover any signs as to -his whereabouts.</p> - -<p>He heard the door open, and then a fresh breeze told him that he was -being carried out of the house.</p> - -<p>“I wonder what in the world is going to happen to me now,” he thought -to himself.</p> - -<p>Again he made an effort to free his hands, but it was of no use with -the little strength he had. His head was aching, and he was completely -exhausted by the ordeal through which he had passed.</p> - -<p>From the footsteps of the men who were carrying him he made out that -they were passing next down a gravel walk. At the same time, nearby, -he heard what he took to be the stamping of horses. “Perhaps it is the -same place where they took me in before,” he thought. However, that did -him no good, as he had been brought to the house in the darkness of a -stormy night and had seen nothing of the neighborhood.</p> - -<p>His surmise was correct, however, for the men raised him and placed him -in a carriage. Two of them sprang in and the horses started rapidly -down the road.</p> - -<p>Then was repeated the same experience as before, the long ride over the -roughest of roads. Roberts was completely helpless, and was flung this -way and that upon the seat. Perhaps the jarring helped to revive his -faculties, however, for when the trip was over he was fully alert.</p> - -<p>During the ride the two men who were in the carriage whispered to each -other occasionally; but the conversation was in French, as before, and -the American could understand nothing. It was a weary journey, but it -came to an end at last. The carriage stopped, the two men sprang out, -and then again he felt himself lifted and carried away.</p> - -<p>“I will pretty soon know what is going to happen to me,” he muttered -to himself.</p> - -<p>He was taken only a short distance before he was set down by the two -men, who stepped aside and held a whispered conversation. Then suddenly -he heard them walking away again, and a minute or two later he heard -the carriage start. It sped rapidly away, and in a half-minute more was -out of hearing, the American being left alone in absolute silence and -without any further clue as to what was taking place or where he was.</p> - -<p>He lay there for fully half an hour, waiting impatiently for the next -development. He grew more and more impatient, and finally summoned all -his strength in an effort to free his hands. “Perhaps it will do me no -good,” he thought, “but I would like everlastingly to make a fight for it.”</p> - -<p>His astonishment may be imagined when, at the very first effort, the -rope which bound him parted and left his hands free!</p> - -<p>He was scarcely able to realize it for a moment, and lay with his -hands still behind his back, trying to grasp the fact that he was at -liberty, or partially so, at any rate. His heart gave a great bound of -joy. There was no doubt, however, that his enemies were nearby, and the -thought made him cautious.</p> - -<p>Slowly and silently he raised his hands to his head and grasped the -handkerchief which still bound his eyes. It was only loosely tied, and -a single pull was sufficient to remove it. The eagerness with which he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> -glanced about him may be imagined. The first sight that met his eyes -was the stars; then, realizing that in the darkness he was not so -likely to be observed, he bent swiftly forward to the rope that bound -his feet.</p> - -<p>This, too, he found but loosely tied, and it took him but a few seconds -to loosen it, after which he turned his head anxiously and glanced -about him. He found himself, apparently, in the midst of an open -country, in the shadow of a tall tree. What surprised him most of all -was the fact that he saw nothing to indicate that anyone was near.</p> - -<p>“They do not seem very careful to guard me,” Roberts thought, “after -all the pains they took to capture me.”</p> - -<p>However, there was no time to spend in debating that question. His only -thought was to make the most of his opportunity and escape from that -spot as quickly as possible.</p> - -<p>He raised himself and began silently to make his way along the ground. -He was still weak, but for all that he managed to make good time. As he -crept along he found that he was on a road, and his first impulse was -to reach the thicket at one side. Once in the shade of this he rose to -his feet, considerably emboldened by his success. He still saw no one -and heard no sounds to indicate that his escape had been discovered, so -he set out somewhat more boldly, creeping through the underbrush.</p> - -<p>He was almost beside himself with delight at his sudden and unexpected -good fortune. He knew that every step he took was carrying him more and -more to safety, for the nature of the country told him that it would be -almost impossible for his enemies, whoever they might be, to find him -again. “It was a terrible experience,” he thought to himself. “This end -of it seems almost like an anti-climax.”</p> - -<p>When he was far enough away to be sure that there was no danger of his -steps being heard he broke into a run, nor did he stop until he was -completely exhausted.</p> - -<p>By that time he knew that he had put fully half a mile of the dense -jungle between himself and any possible pursuers. He sat down on the -ground to recover his breath and think over the strange situation.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I shall never come to an explanation,” he thought, “or find -out what that strange Frenchman wanted with me.”</p> - -<p>As he turned the matter over in his mind, however, there was one thing -about which he made up his mind definitely, and that was that if he -ever succeeded in reaching his cousin, he would never cease his efforts -to find out all about that mysterious house, and to inform the proper -authorities about the unfortunate captive who was detained there. “I -guess I will have a hard time finding him, though,” Roberts thought. -“Perhaps I have only exchanged one danger for another, as I have pretty -well lost myself in this thicket.”</p> - -<p>It was just then he chanced to notice that a heavy package had been -stuffed into one of the pockets of his coat. He found it was a paper -parcel, which he took out and examined with not a little curiosity. He -found that his enemies, as if anticipating his escape, had provided him -with a supply of food!</p> - -<p>Again he put his hand to his pocket, and, discovering something else, -proceeded to examine it. There were two pieces of paper, and he struck -a match to examine them. One, as he found to his utter consternation, -was a French bank-note of the value of five hundred francs!</p> - -<p>That discovery almost overwhelmed him. He sat gazing in silent wonder -at the paper until the match went out. Then he struck another and -proceeded to examine the other piece of paper, which he found was a -note addressed to him in English:</p> - -<p class="blockquot"><span class="smcap">Sir</span>—It was all mistake. We thought you -were somebody other. We are sorry. We inclose money to pay you for your time and loss of——</p> - -<p>As Roberts read the last word he gave a gasp. Then he swung his hand up -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> -to his head and found to his horror that the statement of the letter -was only too true. The word was <i>hair</i>, and every particle of it had -been shaved from his head!</p> - -<p>If anything had been needed to complete Roberts’s amazement at his -strange adventure, this would have done it. He sat where he was for -fully five minutes, alternately feeling for his missing locks and -examining the bank-note and the lunch.</p> - -<p>“All a mistake!” he muttered to himself. “Took me for someone else!”</p> - -<p>The first thought that came to Roberts after that was a renewal of his -resolution to probe the mystery to the bottom.</p> - -<p>“Mistake or no mistake,” he thought, “those villains intended a -horrible fate for someone—and they have got that other wretched -prisoner in there yet. I am going to find out what it means or die in -the attempt!”</p> - -<p>And it was with determination in his mind that Henry Roberts at last -raised himself to his feet once more. He tucked the note and bank-bill -away in his pocket and wrapped up the food.</p> - -<p>“At first, I thought it might have been poisoned,” he observed, “but I -guess that is not very likely under the circumstances. It may come in -very handy, for all I can tell.”</p> - -<p>He had now made up his mind that there was no longer any chance of his -being pursued, and he saw very plainly that his enemies had taken him -to the lonely spot and left him with the intention of allowing him to -free himself, as he had done.</p> - -<p>“However, they probably took pains to lose me,” he thought, “so that I -could not come back to revenge myself.”</p> - -<p>As this thought entered his mind, Roberts instinctively put his hand to -his back-pocket where his revolver had been. Sure enough, he found that -it had not been returned to him.</p> - -<p>“A wise precaution!” he muttered.</p> - -<p>His first purpose now was, of course, to get back to the road, so that -he might find some kind of habitation.</p> - -<p>“I must get to the mines, and get my cousin to help me,” he thought.</p> - -<p>The task seemed likely to be a difficult one, for in the darkness -Roberts had no way of telling which way he had come. It was by no means -a pleasant prospect, that of getting lost in the jungle country.</p> - -<p>“If I had only thought to examine my pockets before I did all that -running!” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>He could not help laughing at the thought of his wild dash and the -extreme caution and anxiety with which he had freed himself. However, -his amusement did not last very long; for once more the terrified cries -of the unfortunate prisoner crossed his mind. The last words which he -had heard from the man were still ringing in his ears.</p> - -<p>“Twenty years!”</p> - -<p>He started to make his way back through the jungle in the direction -where he hoped to find the road he had left. He trudged on for a -considerable time, getting more and more involved in the tangled vines -of that swampy region. Finally he concluded that there was nothing else -for him to do but wait until the dawn. There was no means of telling -what wild animals might be near, and he was haunted with the fear of -disturbing some serpent. At last he determined on climbing one of the -high trees. From this vantage point he found that he had not much longer -to wait. Already the first streaks of dawn were visible in the east.</p> - -<p>His tree was one of the tallest in the dense forest, and as soon as -it was light he caught sight of a slight opening in the trees, where -he discovered the long-sought road, winding up the hillside in front. -Without a minute’s hesitation he climbed to the ground and set out -through the thicket. No shipwrecked mariner was ever more relieved at -the sight of land. “If I get to the road, I am pretty sure to find -someone in the end.”</p> - -<p>Twice he took the precaution to climb a tree to make sure that he was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> -on the right track, and at last he came out upon the thoroughfare. A -single glance was sufficient to tell him that a carriage had passed -over it since the recent heavy rain, and he concluded that this was the -road over which he had been taken.</p> - -<p>He sat down for a short while to rest and think over the situation. “I -am going to set out and walk until I come to some place,” he decided -finally. “The only question is in which direction to go.”</p> - -<p>He had nothing to guide him, and he finally decided haphazard and set -out tramping. He found out that the fresh air and the excitement of -his escape had served to remove almost all the effects of his recent -unpleasant experience.</p> - -<p>“I have lost nothing,” he thought, “except my hair and my baggage!”</p> - -<p>The latter had been taken into the mysterious house, and that was the -last Roberts had seen of it; as he thought the matter over, however, -he concluded that in all probability the Frenchmen had left it with -him when they drove away. “And I ran away and left it!” he laughed. -“Anyway, I have got a hundred dollars to pay for it.”</p> - -<p>The road was so rough as to be almost as difficult as the thicket. -Winding in and out through the dense jungle, sometimes completely -covered by the interlacing trees and vines, it seemed as if it might -run on forever.</p> - -<p>“But there must be some house along it!” the man muttered grimly. -“If I can only find somebody to direct me to the mines!”</p> - -<p>The sun rose until at last it was beating down fiercely upon the -traveler. It was long after high noon when at last he made out the -first sign that he had gained anything by his mountain journey. There -came one hill much higher than the rest; as he reached the summit and -glanced around him, he saw a slender column of smoke rising from the -midst of the dark trees.</p> - -<p>“A house at last!” he cried, and set swiftly forward.</p> - -<p>He kept his wits about him, however, not forgetting that he was in the -midst of a strange country. As he descended the hill the smoke passed -out of sight, and he did not again observe it until he was almost upon -the house from which it proceeded.</p> - -<p>He took the precaution to turn from the road and make his way through -the thicket, where the tropical vegetation was so dense about him that -he could see nothing in front of him even, when various sounds led -him to believe that he was almost upon the house. And so it was that -suddenly, without the slightest warning, he came to the end of the -bushes, and the building rose before his very eyes.</p> - -<p>From a spot a few yards to one side the road still stretched onward, -but it had broadened out into a smooth avenue, lined on either side -with great forest trees. Beneath them was a well-kept lawn, and -perhaps a hundred yards beyond at the end of the avenue was a building, -a great mansion, three stories high, and built of handsome stone.</p> - -<p>A single glance at it, and the American staggered back with a gasp. -It was the house of his recent adventure!</p> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<p>Roberts’s first impulse was to spring back into the bushes and crouch -down to prevent his being observed. There he lay peering out and -watching the scene.</p> - -<p>There was no doubt about the house being the same one, for besides the -improbability of there being two such houses in that dense wilderness, -he had seen from the lights the general outline of the house on the -night he had been first taken there. If he had any doubt, a discovery -he made a short time after was sufficient to remove it.</p> - -<p>Two sides of the great structure were visible to him from where he was, -and he saw that all the windows were protected with iron bars!</p> - -<p>He ran his eye over the whole building with considerable curiosity. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> -Except for the bars above mentioned, it was a most inviting-looking -structure, having broad piazzas around it covered with vines and -growing plants and a beautiful garden in front. It was situated upon -a high elevation, and, even from where he was, Roberts could see -the broad view stretching beyond on the other side. But the thought -uppermost in his mind while he lay watching the place was less of all -this than of the wretched American whom he had left there.</p> - -<p>He had not been there more than five minutes before he saw the door in -front of the broad avenue open and a man step out. A single glance at -the figure was enough to tell him that it was the little Frenchman who -had welcomed him on the night he had been brought there.</p> - -<p>“You scoundrel!” Roberts thought, clenching his hands. “I should like -to get hold of you!”</p> - -<p>The man had a cigar in his mouth, and began sauntering up and down the -piazza. Roberts had the pleasure of watching him for a considerable -time at this occupation, and then he came out and fell to examining the -flowers in front of the house.</p> - -<p>In the meantime the American was thinking over his situation and trying -to make up his mind what to do. He was not willing to risk any further -explorations of the place by himself; and yet, on the other hand, he -dreaded retracing that long walk on the road.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps it goes on,” he thought, “and perhaps I can find another -house beyond.”</p> - -<p>He stole back into the bushes and made a circuit of the broad grove to -investigate. He found, however, that the road apparently led only to -the mansion and that he was confronted with the necessity of retracing -his steps the entire day’s journey.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps they left me near some place,” he thought, “and I would have -been all right if I had only waited for daylight!”</p> - -<p>Weakened by his unpleasant experiences, Roberts was not prepared to -undertake that trip immediately. It was then well on toward sunset, but -he resolved to rest several hours, at any rate.</p> - -<p>He crept back into the bushes a short distance to make himself safe -from discovery and stretched himself out to rest. Several hours passed -in that way, and then, as darkness once more settled upon the place, -he crept forward for a closer view of the house before leaving it. He -had not taken very many steps, however, before something occurred which -caused him to stop abruptly. He could see, through the bushes, the -lights shining out from one or two of the windows. Suddenly, his ears -were caught by a confused sound of voices. He sprang forward to the -edge of the bushes and gazed out just in time to witness an exciting scene.</p> - -<p>The doorway was open and a flood of light was pouring out. In the -doorway several men were struggling violently.</p> - -<p>At that very instant one of the voices cried out in English: “Help! -Help!” And to his consternation Roberts recognized the voice as the same -he had heard through the keyhole of his cell! It was the American prisoner!</p> - -<p>As Roberts realized this, all thought of caution left him. With a yell -he leaped forward and bounded across the lawn at the top of his speed.</p> - -<p>The rest happened so quickly that Roberts had no time to think. He saw -the figures silhouetted in the light of the doorway, one man making a -desperate struggle against two or three others. Roberts reached the -foot of the steps leading up to the piazza at the very same instant -that another figure came dashing around the corner of the porch, crying -out excitedly in French. He recognized both the voice and form as those -of the hated master of the house.</p> - -<p>It was the opportunity for which he had been wishing. He flung himself -upon the man, and before the latter had time even to throw up his hands -dealt him a blow with all the power of his arm, catching him in the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> -chest and sending him reeling backward; then, with a shout of -encouragement, he turned and dashed toward the doorway.</p> - -<p>He was in the very nick of time, for the other prisoner, who had been -making a gallant fight for his liberty, was now almost overpowered by -the men. Roberts recognized them as the same servants who had welcomed -him upon his entrance. Several others were rushing down the hallway to -join in the struggle, when he flung himself through the doorway. One of -the men had pinned the unfortunate prisoner to the wall, but Roberts -dealt him a blow that sent him flying backward. The others turned with -a cry of alarm, at the same time loosening their hold upon the prisoner.</p> - -<p>And the latter whirled like a flash, and before Roberts had time to -shout to him had dashed out of the doorway and down the steps of the -building. His rescuer paused only long enough to repel a furious -onslaught, and then he, too, turned and rushed away into the darkness.</p> - -<p>“Run! Run!” he yelled to the man he had helped. “Run for your life!”</p> - -<p>There was no need of the exhortation. The man was fairly flying over -the ground, making for the thicket beyond.</p> - -<p>Roberts heard footsteps behind him and glanced over his shoulder in -time to see that his danger was by no means over. It seemed as if -his shout must have alarmed the whole house. Half a dozen men had -poured out of the doorway and were in full pursuit of the fugitives. -The nearest of them, who had been rushing up to join in the fight as -Roberts turned, were only a few yards behind.</p> - -<p>Roberts knew that all depended upon his being able to get away into -the thicket, for he was by no means strong enough for a long race. The -other man seemed able to run faster, and was leaving his rescuer behind.</p> - -<p>“Oh, if I only had my revolver!” he said to himself.</p> - -<p>As it was, he expected some of the men to fire upon him. Before there -was time for this, however, the race was over and lost. To the edge -of the bushes was a matter of only a few seconds; the first man -disappeared and Roberts followed, when suddenly a tangled vine in his -path caught his foot and brought him to earth with a blow so violent -that it almost stunned him. Not two seconds later Roberts felt a heavy -body fling itself upon him and heard a voice crying out in the now too -familiar French.</p> - -<p>He tried to struggle to his feet once more to grapple with his -assailant, but his efforts were in vain, for the latter’s cries had -brought several more to the spot, and before he was able to realize it -Roberts was again a helpless prisoner.</p> - -<p>His cries were stopped by one of the men flinging his coat about his -head; then two others picked him up by the arms and feet and set out to -carry him.</p> - -<p>He was so breathless and dazed by what had occurred that he was -scarcely able to realize his plight. Once more a prisoner in the hands -of the mysterious Frenchman!</p> - -<p>“Of course, they will take me straight back to the house,” he thought, -and in this he found that he was not mistaken. From the sounds that -reached his ears he knew that a crowd had gathered about those who were -carrying him, and suddenly, above all the excited cries, Roberts heard -a voice that he recognized as that of the master.</p> - -<p>“<i>Vous l’avez?</i>” he cried excitedly. “<i>Bien!</i>”</p> - -<p>Roberts did not know the meaning of the words, but the Frenchman’s -delight was sufficiently manifested by the tone of the voice. The -American’s heart sank as he thought of what was before him.</p> - -<p>“He won’t let me off so easily this time!” he thought. “I am not sorry -I whacked him, all the same, and at least that other fellow will escape!”</p> - -<p>He was borne swiftly forward by the men; from the sounds of the -footsteps he knew that they were on the gravel walk once more. Then -they mounted the steps of the piazza, and through an opening in the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> -coat that was still flung over his head he made out the light of the -doorway. At the same time he heard the voice of the Frenchman and was -borne into the hallway again. The door shut behind him. It sounded like -a death-knell in his ears.</p> - -<p>“Probably they will take me back to that very same cell,” he thought.</p> - -<p>And then suddenly two of the men seized him by his arms, and the rest -released their hold, leaving him standing upon his feet. The coat was -flung from off his face, and he stood before his captors.</p> - -<p>Roberts found himself in the very same hallway as on the previous -occasion, surrounded by the very same servants, and in the presence of -the very same master. All this was exactly what he had expected, and -nothing of it surprised him. But there was one new circumstance, one -that left him almost dazed with consternation—the action of the crowd -of men the instant they caught sight of him.</p> - -<p>The master himself, having apparently recovered from the blow which -Roberts had dealt him, was standing in front of his prisoner; as he got -a glimpse of his face he staggered back with an exclamation, and burst -into a roar of laughter! He began to shake all over with uncontrollable -merriment, and finally he sank back against the wall, apparently -scarcely able to stand.</p> - -<p>Nor were his assistants less strangely affected—they, too, gazed at -the prisoner, and then went likewise into spasms of laughter. Everyone -in the hall was soon joining in the uproar, and two men who were -holding Roberts were so overcome that they let go their hold of him! -The puzzled man found himself alone and free once more, but he was so -amazed that he could only stand and stare about him.</p> - -<p>It would not be possible to describe his perplexity. The little -Frenchman, now apparently not in the least alarmed by the fact that -his prisoner was free, lay back in a chair near the fireplace, almost -purple in the face with laughter. And this situation continued for -fully two minutes more before the man, seeing Roberts’s amazement, rose -to his feet and came toward him.</p> - -<p>“<i>Monsieur!</i>” he began, making a desperate effort to control his -laughter. “<i>Monsieur! Une très grande bévue!</i>”</p> - -<p>Then seeing from the expression on Roberts’s face that the remark was -not understood, he again went into an explosion of merriment.</p> - -<p>“<i>J’ai oublié!</i>” he gasped. “<i>Vous ne comprenez pas</i>——”</p> - -<p>Yet, though Roberts did <i>not</i> understand, there was one thing which -these things did make plain to him, and which brought him a vast -relief. This farce, whatever it was, was at least not going to turn out -a tragedy for him.</p> - -<p>He stood as he was in the centre of the hallway watching the crowd. -When the first burst of laughter had passed away they remained eagerly -talking to each other, glancing at him occasionally and gesticulating. -The little Frenchman, who seemed not to have the slightest enmity -toward Roberts for having knocked him down, was still standing in front -of him, laughing excitedly and trying to make himself understood. As -he only continued to shake his head the Frenchman gave a gesture of -despair. Suddenly, however, a thought seemed to strike him, and he -whirled about and called to one of the men.</p> - -<p>“<i>Jacques!</i>” he exclaimed. “<i>Appelez Jacques!</i>”</p> - -<p>Immediately one of the men turned and darted out of the door. It was -only a few seconds later before another man entered the room and toward -him the excited little Frenchman rushed. Still shaking with merriment -he began an excited conversation, glancing occasionally at Roberts. In -a few seconds the newcomer was also convulsed with hilarity.</p> - -<p>“<i>Parlez-lui, Jacques!</i>” cried the master of the house excitedly. -“<i>Vite!</i>”</p> - -<p>And the man came toward Roberts, his face strained with suppressed laughter.</p> - -<p>“Sir!” he stammered, scarcely able to speak. “Sir, I explain!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Go ahead,” said Roberts, who by this time had begun to feel the -laughter contagious. “Hurry up, for heaven’s sake!”</p> - -<p>The Frenchman paused for a few seconds, evidently collecting his scanty -knowledge of English; then he turned toward the master of the house.</p> - -<p>“Sir,” he said, making a profound bow, “I introduce—I introduce you -the Dr. Anselme.”</p> - -<p>The little Frenchman in turn made a profound bow; at the same time a -sudden idea flashed across Roberts.</p> - -<p>The two men, who were watching him closely, glanced at each other -and again began laughing uproariously. Then again Jacques began his -laborious explanation, pausing very long between words.</p> - -<p>“This house,” he said, “this house—it is—it is <i>une—une</i>—what is de -word? <i>Une hôpital</i>——”</p> - -<p>Again the man stopped and gazed into the air. In the meantime, however, -Roberts’s brain had been working, and a possible explanation of his -extraordinary adventures with Dr. Anselme had flashed over him.</p> - -<p>“A hospital!” he cried, “an asylum!”</p> - -<p>“<i>Oui, oui, monsieur!</i>” cried the man excitedly.</p> - -<p>“There was one man coming,” he continued excitedly, “one——”</p> - -<p>“Patient?” suggested Roberts.</p> - -<p>“<i>Oui, oui!</i>” exclaimed the other. “One patient! He was to come——”</p> - -<p>But the man did not finish his sentence. At that moment there came -the sound of rolling carriage-wheels, and Dr. Anselme made a sudden -start for the door and flung it open just as the carriage stopped and -a man bounded up the steps of the porch. The little doctor, still -half convulsed with laughter, dragged him into the house and began an -excited conversation with him. In a moment or two the latter turned to -Roberts. He began to speak in fluent English, keeping from giving way -to laughter by a violent effort.</p> - -<p>“Sir,” he said, “my brother wishes me to explain—I have arrived just -in time.”</p> - -<p>“For heaven’s sake!” cried Roberts in relief. “Talk on, and tell me -what is the matter!”</p> - -<p>“It is a most extraordinary blunder,” said the newcomer. “You have -escaped a dangerous surgical operation by the merest chance!”</p> - -<p>Roberts placed his hand on his bald head, and everyone in the hallway -gave a roar of laughter.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said the other, “that is it. My brother is a well-known -specialist in mental diseases and has this sanitarium in the mountains. -No doubt you were surprised to find such a large house so far away from -any city. We were expecting a patient, an American, by the same train -on which you arrived. He was suffering from an injury to the skull, -which made him liable to periodic attacks of insanity, and he was -coming up here to be treated.”</p> - -<p>“The very man I saw on the train!” cried Roberts. “A tall, -dark-haired person?”</p> - -<p>“We do not know in the least what he looks like,” was the reply, “for -had we known we should not have made the horrible blunder we did.”</p> - -<p>In a few words Roberts related how the stranger had leaped from the -train during the night.</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly,” said the other, “that was he. He probably lacked courage -to come. I have been out hunting for him, but have not found him.”</p> - -<p>“And they were going to operate on me?” Roberts gasped.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said the other; “it was only the fact that my brother was unable -to find any trace of injury to your skull that saved you. Then it -occurred to him to search your clothing, and he found your card, which, -of course, showed him the terrible mistake.”</p> - -<p>By this time Roberts himself was able to join in the uproarious laughter.</p> - -<p>“But that other man—that prisoner who has been here for twenty -years—what about him?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“He has been here nearly thirty years,” laughed the other, “but he has -no knowledge of the time. He is a raving maniac!” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> - -<p>“And I helped him to escape!” gasped Roberts.</p> - -<p>“Yes, you did,” said the other ruefully, “and I am afraid it will take -us many days to catch him!”</p> - -<p>“But why in the world did you take me away and leave me there on the -road?” cried Roberts, when he was able to speak. “Why did you not -explain to me?”</p> - -<p>“I would have if I had been here,” the man answered, “but my brother -concluded that, as you were not destined for here, you were going to -the mines, which are the only other inhabited spot around here. So they -carried you to the mines.”</p> - -<p>“To the mines!” gasped the other. “For heaven’s sake, what do you mean? -You left me out in the middle of the jungle!”</p> - -<p>Once more the Frenchman went off into a fit of laughter. “Why, they -left you within fifty yards of the place!” gasped Dr. Anselme’s -brother. “They did not take you in, as they thought there might be some -trouble made about the matter and we were anxious to get out of it -without any.”</p> - -<p>Then in a few words Roberts told what had happened to him since -that adventure.</p> - -<p>“I thought I was doing something very heroic in rescuing that man,” he -exclaimed. “Please apologize to the doctor for the whack I gave him.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Anselme protested that the blow was nothing at all, though Roberts -fancied that he could see him wince at the mere recollection of it. -Nothing more was said about that, however, and, still laughing about -the man’s strange adventures, the doctor turned to the door on one side -and flung it open, disclosing the same familiar dining-room.</p> - -<p>“Sir, I pardon you,” he said, and his brother interpreted, “now sit -again with us at our table, I beg of you.”</p> - -<p>And they went in to supper.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="f120"><i>The Day</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">“HERE’S one for you, ’Squire, that I’ll betcha you can’t answer,” -tantalizingly said Hi Spry, as the Old Codger added himself to the -roster of the Linen Pants and Solid Comfort Club. “‘When tomorrow is -yesterday, today will be as far from the end of the week as was today -from the beginning of the week when yesterday was tomorrow. What is today?’”</p> - -<p>“Today, Hiram,” grimly returned the veteran, “is the day that I’m -goin’ to ask you to return to me them three dollars and thirty-five -cents that you borrowed from me over two months ago, with the promise -that you’d pay ’em back the then-comin’ day-after-tomorrow, which -went mizzling down the corridors of time quite a spell ago without -fetchin’ me the money. That’s what day this is, Hiram, although I -prob’ly shouldn’t have mentioned it if you hadn’t tried to humiliate -me in public by springin’ a question on me that you was pretty sure I -couldn’t answer.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="f120"><i>No Retribution</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">CRAWFORD—Why do you object to the methods of our benevolent -millionaires?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Crabshaw</span>—Because in distributing their surplus wealth they -don’t give it back to the people they got it from. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="BELATED" id="BELATED"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>A Belated Reconciliation</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-above1 space-below1">BY WILL N. HARBEN<br /> -<i>Author of “Abner Daniel,” “The Substitute,”<br /> “The Georgians,” etc.</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">OLD Jim Ewebanks sat down on the wash-bench in front of the widow -Thompson’s cabin and watched the old woman as she stood in the doorway, -pouring water into her earthen churn to “make the butter come.” He had -walked over from his cabin across the hollow to bring her a piece of -news; but the subject was a delicate one, and he hardly knew how to -broach it.</p> - -<p>If he had been a lighter man, he would have led her further in her -cheerful comments on the crops, the price of cotton and the health of -their neighbors; but deception of no sort was in Ewebanks’s line, and -moreover, the sun was going down. He could see the blue smoke curling -from the mud-and-log chimney on the dark, mist-draped mountainside -across the marshes and writing a welcome message on the sky. He had a -mental glimpse of his wife as she bent over a big fireplace and put -steaming food on the supper-table. He was reminded that he had not fed -his cattle; and still he could not bring himself to the task before him.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thompson’s son, Joe, came up the narrow road from the field, -leading his bay mare. The young man turned the animal into a little -stableyard. With the clanking harness massed on his brawny shoulder he -passed by, nodding to the visitor, and hung his burden on a peg in the -lean-to shed at the end of the cabin.</p> - -<p>Then he went into the entry between the two rooms of the house, and, -rolling up his shirt sleeves, bathed his face and hands in a tin basin.</p> - -<p>Ewebanks determined to come to his point before Joe finished washing. -Indeed, a sudden question from the widow made it somewhat easier for him.</p> - -<p>“What’s fetched you ’long here this time o’ day, Jim?” she asked, as -she tilted her churn toward the light reflected from the sky and raised -the dasher cautiously to inspect the yellow lumps of butter clinging to -its dripping surface.</p> - -<p>Ewebanks felt his throat tighten. It was hard for him to bring up a -subject to the mild-faced, reticent woman, which, while it had been -common talk in the neighborhood for the past twenty-five years, had -scarcely been mentioned in her presence. He bent down irresolutely and -began to pick the cockle-burrs from the frayed legs of his trousers.</p> - -<p>Joe Thompson saved him from an immediate reply by throwing the contents -of his basin at a lot of chickens in the yard and coming toward him, -drying his face and hands on his red cotton handkerchief.</p> - -<p>“You <i>are</i> off’n yore reg’lar stompin’-ground, hain’t you?” -he said cordially.</p> - -<p>Jim Ewebanks made a failure of a smile as his eyes fell on Mrs. -Thompson. She had stopped churning, and, leaning on her wooden dasher, -was studying his face.</p> - -<p>“What fetched you, shore ’nough?” she asked abruptly.</p> - -<p>Ewebanks knew that her suspicions were roused. He sat erect and clasped -his coarse hands between his knees.</p> - -<p>“My cousin Sally Wynn’s been over in the valley today,” he gulped. -“It’s reported thar that yore sister, Mrs. Hansard, is purty low. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> -We-uns talked it over—me’n my wife did—an’ Sally, an’ ’lowed you ort -to know. They axed me to come tell you, but as I told them, I hain’t no -hand to—it looks like they could ’a’ picked somebody——”</p> - -<p>He broke off. There was little change in the grim, lined face under the -gray hair, and the red-checked breakfast shawl which the woman wore -like a hood. She turned the churn again to the light and peered down -into the white depths.</p> - -<p>Someone had once said in the hearing of Ewebanks that nothing could -induce Martha Thompson to utter a word about her sister, and he -wondered how she would treat the present disclosure. She let the churn -resume its upright position and put the lid back into place; then she -glanced at him.</p> - -<p>“She—hain’t <i>bad</i> off, I reckon,” she said tensely.</p> - -<p>“Purty low,” he replied, his eyes on the ground. “The fact is, Mrs. -Thompson, ef you want to see ’er alive you’d better go over thar -tomorrow at the furdest.”</p> - -<p>Ewebanks knew he had gone a little too far in his last words, when Joe -broke in fiercely:</p> - -<p>“She won’t go a step! She sha’n’t set foot inside that cussed house. -They’ve done ’thout us so fur, an’ they kin longer—dead, dyin’ or buried!”</p> - -<p>“Hush, Joe!” Mrs. Thompson had left her churn, and with her hands -wrapped in her apron was leaning against the door-jamb.</p> - -<p>Joe didn’t heed her.</p> - -<p>“They’ve always helt the’r heads above us becase we’re poor an’ they’re -rich,” he ran on. “You sha’n’t go a step, mother!”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thompson said nothing. She rolled her churn aside and went into -the cabin. Ewebanks saw her bending over the pots and kettles in the -red light from the live coals. He saw her rise to arrange the table, -and knew she was going to ask him to supper. He got up to go, said good -day to Joe, who had lapsed into sullen silence, and descended the rocky -path toward his cabin.</p> - -<p>It was growing dusk; a deepening haze, half of smoke, half of mist, -hung over the wooded hill on the right of the road, and on the left a -newly cleared field was dotted with the smoldering fires of brush-heaps.</p> - -<p>At the foot of the hill he glanced back and saw Mrs. Thompson in the -path signaling to him. He paused in the corner of a rail fence half -overgrown with briars and waited for her. She was panting with exertion -when she reached him.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t care to talk up thar ’fore Joe,” she began. “He’s so bitter -agin Melissa an’ ’er folks; but I want to know more. What seems to be -ailin’ ’er, Jim?”</p> - -<p>“A general break-down, I reckon,” was the answer. “She’s been gradually -on the fail fer some time. I reckon yore duty-bound to see ’er, Mrs. -Thompson. I’d not pay any attention to Joe nur nobody else. Maybe -thar’s been some pride on yore side, too.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” she said doubtfully, and then she was silent. She broke -a piece of worm-eaten bark from a pine rail on the fence and crumbled -it in her hand.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been wantin’ to tell you some’n fer a long time,” Ewebanks put in -cautiously, “but it wasn’t no business o’ mine, an’ I hate meddlin’. I -hain’t no talebearer, but this hain’t that, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>“I hauled some wood fer ’er one day last spring when me’n my team was -detained at court over thar. She come out in the yard in front o’ her -fine house whar I was unloadin’. She looked mighty thin an’ peaked an’ -lonesome. I had no idea she knowed me from a side o’ sole leather, -grand woman that she is, but she axed me ef I wasn’t from out this -way. I told ’er I was, an’ then she reached over the wagon-wheel an’ -shuck hands powerful friendly like, an’ axed particular about you an’ -Joe, an’ how you was a-makin’ of it. I told ’er you was up an’ about, -but, like the rest of us, as pore as Job’s turkey. She said she’d been -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> -a-layin’ off to go to see you, but, somehow, hadn’t been able to git -round to it. She said she’d been porely fer over a year.”</p> - -<p>“She wasn’t porely two year back when I was on my back with typhoid,” -said Mrs. Thompson bitterly. “The report went out that I’d never git up -agin, but she never come a-nigh me, nur sent no word.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe she never heard of it,” said Ewebanks. “They had a lot to do -over thar about that time in one way and another. One o’ the gals -was marryin’ of a banker, an’ t’other the Governor’s son, an’ yore -brother-in-law, up to his death, was in politics, an’ they was constant -a-givin’ parties an’ a-havin’ big company an’ the like. We-uns that -don’t carry on at sech a rate ortn’t to be judges. I’m of the opinion -that you ort to go, Mrs. Thompson. Ef she dies you’ll always wish you’d -laid aside the grudge.”</p> - -<p>The old woman glanced up at her cabin and awkwardly wiped her mouth -with her bare hand.</p> - -<p>“It seems sech a short time sence me’n her was childern together,” -she mused. “We was on the same level then, an’ I never loved anybody -more’n I did her. She was the purtiest gal in the neighborhood, an’ as -sharp as a briar. Squire Farnhill tuck a likin’ to ’er, an’, as he had -no childern o’ his own, he offered to adopt ’er an’ give ’er a home -an’ education. She was a great stay-at-home an’ we had to actually beg -’er to go. We knowed it was best, fer pa was weighted down with debt -an’ was a big drinker. She was soon weaned from us an’ ’fore she was -seventeen Colonel Frank Hansard married ’er an’ tuck ’er over to his -big plantation in Fannin’. We had our matters to look after, an’ they -had the’rn. It begun that way, an’ it’s kept up.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know how true it is,” ventured Ewebanks, “but I have heard -that her husband was a proud, stuck-up, ambitious man, an’ that he -wished to cut off communication betwixt you two; but he’s dead an’ out -o’ the way now.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but sometimes childern take after the’r fathers,” said the widow, -“an’, right or wrong, it’s natural fer a mother to sympathize with her -offspring. I’m sorter afeard the family wouldn’t want me even at ’er -deathbed. Now, ef they had jest ’a’ sent me word that she was low, or——”</p> - -<p>“I’d be fer doin’ my duty accordin’ to my own lights,” declared -Ewebanks, when he saw she was going no further. “I don’t know as I’d -be bothered about what them gals, or the’r husbands, thought at sech a -serious time.”</p> - -<p>She nodded as if she agreed with him, and turned to go. “Joe’s waitin’ -fer his supper,” she said. “I’ll study about it, Jim. I couldn’t go -till tomorrow, anyway. But, Jim Ewebanks—” she hesitated for a moment, -and then she looked at him squarely—“Jim, I want to tell you that I -think you are a powerful good man. Yo’re a Christian o’ the right sort, -an’ I’m glad you are my neighbor.”</p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p>That night Mrs. Thompson had a visit from Mrs. Ewebanks, accompanied -by her daughter Mary Ann, a fair slip of a creature of twelve years. -Mary Ann was always her mother’s companion on her social rounds in -the neighborhood. She was a very timid child and was never known to -open her mouth on any of these visits. They took the chairs offered -them before the fire. It was at once evident from Mrs. Ewebanks’s -manner that she had come to advise her neighbor, and she showed by her -disregard for oral approaches that she was going to reach her point by -a short cut.</p> - -<p>“Jim told me he’d been over,” she began, with a sneer, as she seated -herself squarely in her chair and brushed a brindled cat from under -her blue homespun skirt. “Scat! I don’t want yore flees! An’ he told -me, after I’d pumped ’im about dry, what he was fool enough to advise -you. Men hain’t a bit o’ gumption. What’s he want to tell you all that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> -foolishness fer? I hain’t never had a bit o’ use fer them high-falutin’ -Hansards. Why, they hain’t had respect enough fer yore feelin’s to even -let you know yore sister was at death’s door. Sally Wynn jest drapped -onto it by accident.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thompson was standing in the chimney-corner, her hand on the -little mantelpiece, but she sat down.</p> - -<p>“I reckon a body ort not to have ill-will at sech a time,” she -faltered. “Ef Melissa’s a-dyin’ I reckon it ’ud be nothin’ more’n human -fer me to want to be thar. She mought be sorry you see, in ’er last -hour, an’ wish she’d sent fer me. I’d hate to think <i>that</i>, after -she was laid away fer good an’ all.”</p> - -<p>“Pshaw!” Mrs. Ewebanks drew her damp, steaming shoes back from the -fire. She had something else to say.</p> - -<p>“I never told you, Martha Thompson, but I give it to that woman -straight from the shoulder not long back. I was visitin’ my brother -over thar. Mrs. Hansard used to drive out fer fresh air when the -weather was good, an’ she stopped at the spring on brother’s place one -day while I was thar gittin’ me a drink—no, I remember now, I was -pickin’ a place to set a bucket o’ fresh butter to harden it up fer -camp-meetin’. She didn’t take no more notice o’ me’n ef I’d been some -cornfield nigger, but you bet I started the conversation. I up an’ axed -’er ef she wasn’t a Hansard an’ when she ’lowed she was, I told ’er I -thought so from her favor to ’er sister over here. She got as red as a -pickled beet, an’ stammered an’ looked ashamed, then she sot into axin’ -how you was a-comin’ on, an’ the like.”</p> - -<p>“That was a good deal fer Melissa to do,” observed the widow. “Thar was -a time that she never mentioned my name. She’s awful proud.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’ll be bound you’ll make excuses fer ’er,” snapped Mrs. Ewebanks. -“When folks liter’ly knock the breath out’n you, you jump up an’ rub -the hurt place an’ ax the’r pardon. As fer me, I give that woman a -setback that I’ll bet she didn’t git over in a long time. I told ’er as -I looked straight in ’er eyes, that ef she wanted to know how ’er own -sister was makin’ of it, she’d better have ’er nigger drive ’er over to -the log shack Martha Thompson lives in, an’ pay a call.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you said that!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, an’ she jest set on the carriage-seat an’ squirmed like an eel an’ -looked downcast an’ said nothin’.”</p> - -<p>“That must ’a’ been at the beginnin’ o’ ’er sickness,” said Mrs. -Thompson thoughtfully. She had missed the point of her visitor’s story -and kept her eyes on her son, who sat in the chimney-corner, his feet -on a pile of logs and kindling pine.</p> - -<p>“The Lord wouldn’t give blessed health to a pusson with her mean -sperit,” resumed the visitor warmly. “I jest set thar an’ wondered how -any mortal woman in a Christian land could calmly ax a stranger about -’er own sister livin’ twenty miles off an’ not go to see ’er. She tried -to talk about some’n else but she’d no sooner git started than I’d -deliberately switch ’er back to you an’ yore plight an’ I kept that -a-goin’ till she riz an’ driv off.”</p> - -<p>“I have heard,” said the widow, her glance going cautiously back -to her son, who had bent down to add another piece of pine to the -fire, “I have heard that Colonel Hansard was always in debt from his -extravagance, an’ that his family lived past the’r means. Brother -Thomas went to see Melissa once, an’ he said he believed she was a -misjudged woman. He ’lowed she was willin’ enough to do right, but that -her husband always made ’er feel dependent on him becase his money had -lifted ’er up. Brother Thomas said the gals had growed up like the’r -daddy, an’ that between ’em all, Melissa never’d had any will o’ her -own. I reckon I railly ort to go see ’er.”</p> - -<p>“Ef you do they’ll slam the door in yore face,” said Mrs. Ewebanks in -the angry determination to stir the widow’s pride.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think it’s a matter fer you to decide on, Mrs. Ewebanks.” The -widow leaned back out of the fire-light, and sat coldly erect. “I -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> -believe in doin’ unto others as I’d have them do unto me, an’ ef I was -in Melissa’s fix I’d want to see my only livin’ sister. Facin’ the end -folks sometimes change powerful. Circumstances made ’er what she is; ef -she hadn’t been tuck by a rich man, she’d ’a’ been like common folks. -She used to love me when she was little, an’ I jest don’t want ’em to -lay ’er body away without seein’ ’er once more. I—I used to—I reckon -I still love ’er some.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thompson’s voice had sunk almost to a whisper. Mrs. Ewebanks moved -uneasily; a sneer had risen on her red face, but it died away. Joe -Thompson had suddenly turned upon her from the semi-darkness of his -corner. There was no mistaking the ferocious glare of his eyes.</p> - -<p>“It—it hain’t none o’ my business,” she stammered; “I—I jest——”</p> - -<p>Joe leaned forward; his round freckled face under the shock of tawny -hair, through which he had been running his fingers, was in the light.</p> - -<p>“Now yo’re a-shoutin’!” he said, with a harsh laugh; “it hain’t none o’ -yore business, but you stalked all the way over here tonight to attend -to it.”</p> - -<p>“Hush, Joe, be ashamed o’ yorese’f!” said his mother; “you’ve clean -forgot how to behave ’fore company.”</p> - -<p>“’Fore company hell!” Joe rose quickly and stumbled over a fire-log -which rolled down under his feet. There was a hint of tears in his eyes -and he shook his head like an angry dog as he went to the door and -stood with his back to the visitors in sullen silence.</p> - -<p>For a moment there was silence. Mrs. Ewebanks knew she had blundered -hopelessly. Mary Ann, who never said anything, and who seldom moved -when anyone was looking at her, now turned appealingly to her mother, -and, unfolding her gingham sunbonnet, she bent down and swung it like a -switchman’s flag between her knees. Mrs. Ewebanks paid no heed to it. -She dreaded her husband’s finding out what had passed, especially as he -had intrusted her with a message to Mrs. Thompson quite out of key with -her argument.</p> - -<p>“Jim told me to tell you he’d drive you over in his wagon in the -mornin’ ef you are bent on makin’ the trip,” she said almost -apologetically.</p> - -<p>Joe Thompson whirled round fiercely. His back was against the door, and -in his checked shirt and rolled-up sleeves he looked like a pugilist -ready for fight.</p> - -<p>“We don’t need any help from you-uns,” he snorted. “I’m goin’ to take mother.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Ewebanks now felt sure that her husband would blame her for the -rejection of his invitation. In her vexation she slapped Mary Ann’s red -hand loose from its urgent clutch on her skirt and turned to Joe.</p> - -<p>“I’m afeard I’ve been meddlin’ with what don’t concern me,” she began, -but the young man interrupted her.</p> - -<p>“It’s our bed-time,” he said fiercely. “The Lord knows mother’s had -enough o’ yore clatter fur one dose.”</p> - -<p>“Joe!” exclaimed Mrs. Thompson sternly, “I ’lowed you had more manners.”</p> - -<p>Mary Ann had drawn her mother’s skirt sharply to one side and grasped -her arm tenaciously. Mrs. Ewebanks allowed herself thus to be unseated, -and she rose meekly enough. There was nothing in her manner resembling -a threat that she would never be ordered out of that house again, and -in this Mary Ann witnessed her mother’s first swerving from habit.</p> - -<p>There was a look on the widow’s face which showed that she was almost -sorry for her visitor’s chagrin.</p> - -<p>“Don’t hurry,” she said in a pained and yet gentle tone.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, don’t hurry!” Joe repeated, with a sneer; “stay to breakfast; -I’ll throw some more wood on the fire an’ let’s set down an’ talk.”</p> - -<p>The defeat of Mrs. Ewebanks was more than complete. Between her hostess -and the son she stood wavering. This provoked an actual vocal sound -from Mary Ann. At any other time the Thompsons would have marveled over -it. She grunted in impatience and then said audibly: -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Come on, ma, let’s go home.” And in this it was as if the child had at -once extended a verbal hand of sympathy to the Thompsons and given her -mother a back-handed slap.</p> - -<p>There was nothing for Mrs. Ewebanks to do but obey, for Mary Ann -had stalked heavily from the cabin and just outside the door stood -beckoning to her. Joe had gone to the fireplace and was digging a grave -in the hot ashes for the fire-coated back-log.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Thompson shambled to the door and looked after her departing -guests. She could see their dresses in the light of the thinly veiled -moon as they slowly descended the narrow path. When the noise Joe was -making with the shovel and tongs had ceased she heard someone speaking -in a raised voice. For several minutes it continued, rising and falling -with the breeze, an uninterrupted monologue, growing fainter and -fainter as the visitors receded.</p> - -<p>It was the voice of Mary Ann.</p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p>The Hansards lived in an old-fashioned, two-storied, white frame -building. It had dormer windows in the gray shingled roof and a long -veranda with massive fluted columns. Back of the house rose a rocky -hill covered with pines, and in front lay a wide, rolling lawn, through -which, for a quarter of a mile, stretched a white-graveled drive, -shaded by fine old water oaks from the house to the main traveled road.</p> - -<p>Along this drive the next morning Joe Thompson drove his mother in a -rickety buggy. On the left near the house was a row of cabins where the -negro servants lived, and standing somewhat to itself was the white -cottage of the overseer of the plantation. The doors of all the cabins -were closed, and no one was in sight.</p> - -<p>“I’m afeared she’s wuss, an’ they’ve all gone to the big house,” sighed -Mrs. Thompson. “Maybe we won’t git thar in time.”</p> - -<p>Joe made no response, but he whipped his mare into a quicker pace. -When they reached the veranda and alighted no one came to meet them. A -negro woman hastened across the hall, but she did not look toward Mrs. -Thompson, who stood on the steps waiting for Joe to hitch his mare to a -post nearby.</p> - -<p>“Ain’t you goin’ to come in?” she asked, when he came toward her.</p> - -<p>“No, I’ll wait out here,” he answered, and he sat down on the steps.</p> - -<p>She hesitated for an instant, then she turned resolutely into the great -carpeted hall, and through a door on the right she entered a large -parlor. No one was there. The carpet was rich in color and texture, the -furniture massive and fine. Over the mantel was a large oil portrait -of Colonel Hansard, and on the opposite wall one of his wife painted -just after her marriage. Set into the wall and hung about with lace -drapery was a mirror that reached from the floor to the ceiling. From -this room, through an open door on her left, Mrs. Thompson went into -another. It was the library. No one was there. On all sides of the room -were glass-doored cases of richly bound books. Here and there on tables -and stands stood time-yellowed marble busts and pots of plants. In a -corner of the room was a revolving bookcase, and in the centre a long -writing-table covered with green cloth.</p> - -<p>The old woman looked about her perplexed. Everything was so still that -she could hear the scratching of a honeysuckle vine against the window -under the touch of the breeze. She wondered if her sister had died, and -if everybody had gone to the funeral.</p> - -<p>She was on the point of returning to Joe, when she was startled by a -low moan in an adjoining room. The sound came through a door on her -right, which was slightly ajar. She cautiously pushed it open. The room -contained an awed and silent group. The crisis had come. Mrs. Hansard -was dying. She lay on a high-canopied bed in a corner, hidden from Mrs. -Thompson’s view by the family and servants gathered at the bed. Seeing a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> -vacant chair in a row of women against a wall, the visitor went in and -sat down. Her black cotton sunbonnet hid her face, and, as there were -others present as humbly clad as she, she attracted little notice.</p> - -<p>There was a breathless silence for a moment. Those at the bed seemed to -be leaning forward in great agitation. Suddenly one of the daughters of -the dying woman cried out: “Oh, doctor! Come quick!” and a physician -who stood near advanced and bent over his patient.</p> - -<p>After a moment he silently withdrew to the fireplace, where he simply -stood looking at the fire in the grate. Edith, the eldest child, -followed and asked him a question. He gravely nodded, and with her -handkerchief to her eyes she burst into tears. Her husband, the -Governor’s son, a handsome, manly fellow, came to her and, putting his -arm around her, drew her back to the bed.</p> - -<p>“She’s trying to speak,” he whispered, and for the next moment the -dying woman’s labored breathing was the only sound in the room.</p> - -<p>“Father! Mother!” Mrs. Thompson was hearing her sister’s voice for the -first time in twenty-five years. “Brother Thomas! Uncle Frank! Where -are you?”</p> - -<p>“She is thinking of her childhood,” said Edith in a whisper. She bent -over her mother and in a calm, steady voice said:</p> - -<p>“We are all here, mother dear—Susie and Annie and Jasper and I.”</p> - -<p>There was silence for a moment; then the voice of the dying woman rose -in keen appeal.</p> - -<p>“Martha! Oh, I want Martha—I want Martha!”</p> - -<p>The two sisters exchanged anxious glances.</p> - -<p>“She means Aunt Martha Thompson,” whispered Susie; “we have not sent -for her. What shall we do?”</p> - -<p>Edith bent over the pillow.</p> - -<p>“Mother dear——”</p> - -<p>“I want Martha, my sister Martha!” Mrs. Hansard said impatiently, and -she beat the white coverlet with her thin hand. “Martha, sister Martha, -where are you?”</p> - -<p>“Here I am, Melissa.” The gaunt figure rose suddenly, to the surprise -of all, and moved toward the bed. They made room for her. There was no -time for formal explanations or greetings. “I’m here, Melissa; I heard -you was sick, an’ ’lowed I’d better drap in.”</p> - -<p>“Thank God!” cried Mrs. Hansard, as she took the hardened hand in her -frail fingers and tried to press it. “I’ve been prayin’ God to let me -see you once more. I want you to forgive me, Martha. I’m dying. I’ve -done you a great wrong. Forgive me, forgive me!”</p> - -<p>“La, me, Melissa, I hain’t a thing to forgive!” was the calm, insistent -reply; “not a blessed thing! It was all as much my doin’ as yore’n. We -was both jest natural—that’s all—jest natural, like the Lord made -us—me in my way, and you in yore’n.”</p> - -<p>Edith kissed her aunt’s wrinkled cheek gratefully, and, with her cheek -on the old woman’s shoulder, she wept silently.</p> - -<p>“I thank God; I feel easier now,” said Mrs. Hansard. “You’ve made me -happier, Martha. I can die easier now. God is good.”</p> - -<p>Someone gave Mrs. Thompson a chair, and she sat down and held her -sister’s hand till it was all over. Then the Governor’s son took the -old woman’s arm and led her into the sitting-room, and there the three -motherless girls joined her.</p> - -<p>“You are much like her,” sobbed Susie, the youngest; “you have her eyes -and mouth.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, folks used to say we favored,” said Mrs. Thompson simply.</p> - -<p>“You must not leave us, Aunt Martha,” said Edith. “We must keep you -with us. She would like to have it so.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, do, do, Aunt Martha,” chimed in Susie and Annie.</p> - -<p>The old woman had folded her bonnet in her lap and was holding her -rough hands out to the fire. She smiled as if vaguely pleased, and yet -she shook her head. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, don’t ax me <i>that</i>, girls,” she said. “I’ve got ways an’ habits -that ain’t one bit like yore’n. I’d feel out o’ place anywhar except -in my cabin. I couldn’t change at my time o’ life. Joe’s workin’ fer -me, an’ he’ll never marry. He hates the sight of a woman. He says they -meddle. He’s waitin’ fer me now outside, an’ I reckon I ort to be a-goin’.”</p> - -<p>“But not till after—after the funeral,” said Susie.</p> - -<p>“Yes, honey. I don’t think I ort to wait. I’ve got lots to do at home. -My cows are to feed an’ milk, an’ it’s a long drive. It’ll be in the -night when we git home. Remember, me an’ yore mother hain’t been -intimate sence we was childern. I’m her sister by blood, but not by -raisin’, an’ I hain’t the same sort o’ mourner as you-uns, an’ don’t -think I ort to pass as one in public. I wouldn’t feel exactly natural, -that’s all.”</p> - -<p>The Governor’s son nodded his head as if he agreed with her, and the -girls silently gave her her wish.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="f120"><i>A Remorseful Regret</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">“IF I’d only married her!” muttered Tanquerly, with the bitter regret -of a lost soul bewailing vanished opportunities.</p> - -<p>I thought of the sweet little wife he had at home, and was swamped with -surprise.</p> - -<p>“Oh, if I’d only married her!” he repeated, still more intensely.</p> - -<p>The woman referred to occupied a seat across and further down the car -from us. She had a form that made the ordinary carpenter’s scaffolding -look graceful and huggable, her jaw reminded one of a trip-hammer, her -face was plotted to throw a nervous child into convulsions, and her -voice!—her voice would make a busy boiler-factory seem restful and -serene after a second of it. She had just had a slight controversy with -the conductor, and that official—you know how shy and shrinking the -ordinary street-car conductor is—had been reduced to quivering pulp in -a trifle over a minute. He, one of the most explosive and overbearing -of his kind, had joined issue with her confidently and gleefully, -but when her strident voice once got to working full time, about two -hundred and fifty words to the second, I calculated, analyzing his -character, dissecting his reputation, tearing up his habits, unjointing -his hopes, shredding his ambitions, and ruthlessly forecasting his -future, it was pathetic to watch that strong man striving fruitlessly -to stem the torrent, then yielding little by little, still struggling -strenuously to get in a word, until at last he was swept out on to -the back platform, a mangled and lacerated bundle of raw nerves, too -broken-spirited to so much as curse a little fussy old gentleman who -berated him for not stopping the car at his corner. I never saw the -stiffening so thoroughly, quickly and completely taken out of a man in -my life. Oh, it was pitiable!</p> - -<p>“If I’d only married her!” murmured Tanquerly again.</p> - -<p>“Are you crazy?” I demanded sharply.</p> - -<p>Tanquerly shook his head slowly and painfully. “No,” he said, “not -yet. But I’ll bet if I’d only married her I wouldn’t have been to that -banquet last night and felt like this this morning.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> -<p class="f120"><i>Nothing to Gain</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">FARMER MOSSBACKER—Are ye goin’ to send your son to college, Ezry?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Farmer Bentover</span>—Hod-durn him—no! He’s a reg’lar rowdy now! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="WEALTH" id="WEALTH"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Franchise Wealth and Municipal Ownership</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-above1 space-below1">BY JOHN H. GIRDNER, M.D.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">THERE is much writing and talk about <i>municipal ownership</i> -in these days. When you talk about a municipality or an individual owning -something, it implies that there is <i>something</i> to own. It is about -this “something” that I want to write. I want to make it clear to the -reader what I mean by <i>franchise wealth</i> or <i>franchise property</i>, and -exactly how it differs from private wealth or private property.</p> - -<p>When you buy a house and lot in a town or city, your property is of two -kinds, private property and franchise property. Your private property -begins at the building line in front and extends backward the full -width of your lot to the fence or line which divides your back yard -from the back yard of your neighbor who fronts on the next street. Your -franchise property extends from the building or stoop line, outward, -the full width of your lot, across the sidewalk and on to the middle of -the street where it meets the franchise property of your neighbor on -the opposite side of your street.</p> - -<p>The money to grade, drain and pave the street in front of your lot was -raised by assessments levied on that lot. These assessments were added, -by previous owners, perhaps, to the cost of the lot, and were a part -of the price you paid for the lot. In other words, you bought and paid -for the franchise property in front of your stoop line as directly as -you did for the private property behind the stoop line, and you are -therefore entitled to the usufruct of the one as much as the other.</p> - -<p>The aggregate of the franchise wealth of all the individual owners -in any given street is the sum total of the franchise wealth of that -street. And the aggregate of the franchise wealth of all the streets of -a given town or city is the sum total of the franchise wealth of that -city. And it is absolutely owned by all the inhabitants of that city, -for everyone contributes in some manner to the creation and maintenance -of this franchise wealth.</p> - -<p>There is another thing about this kind of property which the people -ought to keep in mind. Like their private property, their rights in -this franchise property extend from the surface right down into the -earth, as far as it is practical to dig; and, from the surface, right -up into the sky, as high as it is practical to build. It is well, I -say, to keep these facts in mind; they may come in handy when a corrupt -mayor and board of aldermen, or an eminently respectable board of rapid -transit commissioners, are about to hand over to a private corporation -a city subway or elevated road.</p> - -<p>The tremendous importance of the franchise wealth on all social -and economic questions in a city like New York may be more fully -appreciated if we call to mind this fact, viz.:</p> - -<p>That the value of any piece of city real estate is determined almost -entirely by the character of the franchise property in front of and -nearby it.</p> - -<p>Why does a lot one hundred feet deep, with twenty-five feet front on -Fifth avenue, sell for so much more than a similar lot fronting on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> -Second avenue? They are the same size. They are composed alike of earth -and rock. You can dig as deep a foundation and build as high in the -air on the one as the other. But why the great difference in price? -You say because Fifth avenue is a better street than Second avenue. -But this answer does not explain much. What you mean to say is, that -there are certain characteristics, which I have not time to discuss -here in detail, connected with the franchise property in front of and -contiguous to the Fifth avenue lot which make it more valuable than -similar characteristics connected with the franchise property in front -of and contiguous to the Second avenue lot. And this is my point, that -it is at last the character of the franchise property of a street or a -city which determines the value of the private property or real estate -of that street or city.</p> - -<p>The streets of New York City, which I have called franchise wealth -or franchise property to distinguish this kind of property from the -private property of the individual, were built and are maintained with -money contributed by all the citizens; and all the citizens are as -fully entitled to the usufruct of them, as is any individual to the -usufruct of his private property.</p> - -<p>The individual manages his private property or he employs an agent to -manage it for him. And he holds this agent to a strict account. If the -agent appropriates the income from the use of his private property -the law steps in and justly punishes him. Acting collectively, the -individuals elect by ballot a mayor and board of aldermen and members -of the State legislature as agents to manage their franchise property -for them.</p> - -<p>“Wheresoever the carcass is, there will the eagles be gathered -together.” In every large city there is a fat carcass of franchise -wealth, and there you find the corporation eagles, and the political -eagles gathered together to gorge themselves on it. The corporation -eagles deceive the unsuspecting citizens by a pretended desire to serve -them. They call themselves “public service corporations.” There never -was a worse misnomer than this. They are wolves in sheep’s clothing. -They fatten on the people’s franchise wealth and serve no one except -themselves and their congeners, the political eagles. So far from being -<i>servants</i> they become the masters of the people whose property they -have obtained by every corrupt device that the vulpine instinct of man -can invent.</p> - -<p>The political eagles that feed on the franchise carcass have a -different way of deceiving the people. They organize themselves into -what they call a political party, and, by working three hundred -and sixty-five days in the year, while other men are attending to -their legitimate businesses, they get control of the legal political -machinery of one of the great national parties. The name by which -they call their organization will depend on the particular city they -are operating in. In New York, for instance, they call themselves -Democrats, not because they know or care anything about the principles -of Democracy, but because a majority of the independent voters are -Democrats, and then they secure the votes to elect their candidates -from the very people they intend to despoil once they get in. For -a similar reason the political eagles of Philadelphia call their -organization Republican. If the majority of the voters of any city -favored prohibition, you would have that city’s organized political -eagles calling themselves Prohibitionists. New York, Philadelphia, -Chicago, St. Louis, every city in this country which has a fat -franchise wealth carcass, has its corporation and political eagles -gathered together to devour it.</p> - -<p>When a complete history of New York City for the past forty years is -written, not the least interesting chapters will be an account of the -development, growth and present perfection of the system by which the -corporations and politicians enriched themselves at the expense of the -people, and how the people were so hypnotized that they were unable -to rise in their might and drive out these cormorants. This era of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> -corruption began with William M. Tweed. The enterprise was in its -infancy then and Tweed was a blunderer. He and his associates robbed -the city treasury on false vouchers, fraudulent bills, etc. Then came -Jake Sharp, who bribed the aldermen outright with cash to induce them -to hand over to him some millions worth of the people’s franchise -wealth. Tweed and his people, Jake Sharp and the boodle aldermen got -into trouble, state prison or exile.</p> - -<p>Politicians do not like striped clothes when the stripes all run one -way any better than other folks do. So a new and safer system had to -be found for exploiting the people. Money in the form of campaign -contributions from the individual or corporation who wants something -to the head of the organization who could deliver that something after -election, looked good and safe, and this is the plan which has been in -operation in New York for some years.</p> - -<p>During the last mayoralty campaign in this city I was told one -evening by a man who is thoroughly reliable, and who is in a position -to know, that the Consolidated Gas Company, of this city, had paid -$300,000 into the campaign fund of Tammany Hall. George B. McClellan, -the Tammany candidate for mayor, was elected. In less than one year -after taking office he signed the so-called Remsen gas bill. Had it -become a law it would have tightened the clutch of the Gas Trust more -firmly on the people of this city and would have turned over to that -corporation some millions more of their franchise wealth. Fortunately a -Republican governor vetoed it and saved, for the time at least, further -encroachments on the people’s rights.</p> - -<p>And you have today the spectacle of this so-called Democratic mayor -lined up with the Trust magnates and their money-bags at the big ends -of the gas-tubes and against the people of all parties who suffer -extortion at the little ends of the gas-tubes. He is actually opposing -the efforts of the people of this city to secure the necessary -legislation to permit them to build and operate their own gas-plants -and deliver the gas to themselves through pipes laid in their own -streets. And if you refuse to support such a man you are likely to be -told by an insolent Tammany Hall henchman that you are no Democrat.</p> - -<p>Talk about municipal ownership! Why, the municipality, which is another -name for the people, already own everything they need. They own the -streets and the right of way through them, and they own the money to -build lighting plants, railways and telephone lines. The only thing -they do not own is <i>permission</i> to use their own property. And this is -withheld from them by greedy Trust magnates through their bought-up -politicians.</p> - -<p>We need <span class="smcap">MEN</span> in this city who cannot be deceived -by the <i>names</i> Democracy and Republicanism. We need men who will stand -together and protect our franchise property against grafting politicians and -grafting political organizations, no matter by what names they call -themselves. New York City may be likened to a big “skyscraper” laid -on its side. The streets correspond to the elevator shafts. Now, what -would be thought of the sanity of a company of men who built a high -office building, hotel or apartment house and allowed their agents to -give away to outsiders the right to run the elevators and the further -right to prey upon the tenants who are obliged to use them? Yet this is -exactly what the politicians have done and are doing with the streets -of this city.</p> - -<p>Make an inventory of the Gas Trust’s property, find out how much it -would cost to duplicate its plant, then subtract that sum from the -capitalization of the Trust and the remainder is franchise property, -and that belongs to the people. Go through the list of telephone, -telegraph and railway companies the same way, and you will begin to get -an idea of the value and earning capacity of your franchise property -which has been stolen from you by your agents, the officeholders. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> - -<p>If the agent of an individual deeds away a piece of his private -property and fails to make a just return to the owner, the law -holds the title to be spurious and punishes that agent. But the -officeholders, the agents appointed by all the individuals to care for -their franchise property, deed it away to so-called public service -corporations, pocket the proceeds and go scot-free!</p> - -<p>The telephone, telegraph and all the corporations that use wires and -electricity appropriate and use the people’s private property as -well as their franchise property. Go on your roofs, New Yorkers, and -count the electric wires that the thieving electricity corporations -have attached to your houses or have strung across your lots without -your permission. Remember that you own a space equal to the surface -dimensions of your lot down into the bowels of the earth and up into -the sky as far as you like to go. And nobody has the right to string -wires across this space in the air or in the earth without your -permission. The New York Telephone Company attached a wire to the roof -of a house I had leased. I threatened to cut the wire. The company -insolently replied that they needed that wire on my roof to carry on -their business. I insisted on justice and my rights in the matter. -The company then came round with a lease, which I signed, granting -them permission to pass their wire over my roof, and I received a -substantial annual rental for that privilege.</p> - -<p>These corporations appropriate your private property as well as your -franchise property for their own enrichment and pay nothing for it. -They would string wires on your teeth if they needed them and you did -not object. And to cap the climax they charge extortionate rates for -service in order to pay dividends on watered stock. I wrote these facts -a few years ago and offered the article to two daily newspapers in -this town, and they did not dare to publish it. But thank God <span class="smcap">Tom -Watson’s Magazine</span> exists to tell the truth. New Yorkers, you ought -to examine the fences around your backyards. You surely own them, and -they are valuable property. They produce an enormous income to—the -telephone company. Tens of thousands of yards of telephone wires are -strung on these fences. The company uses them to get wires into your -houses, in order to charge you extortionate prices for ’phone service. -The company will tell you they need these fences to give <i>you</i> ’phone -service. That answer reminds me of the answer given by a negro girl -caught stealing raisins from her mistress’s bureau drawer. “Why did you -steal those raisins?” asked the mistress. Sally replied, “Why, missus, -dey’s good.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="f120"><i>The Cause of the Congregating</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">“MY friends,” began the Great Man, in a voice admirably -adapted for declamatory purposes, as he stepped out upon the platform of the car -and beheld the major portion of the inhabitants of the wayside hamlet -seething and jostling around the station, “I thank you from the bottom -of my heart for this enthusiastic greeting, this spontaneous outpouring -of your best citizens, this wholesale welcome, this——”</p> - -<p>“Wholesale gran’mother!” broke in a youthful and pessimistic voice. -“It ain’t you that’s the attraction—a big fat drummer is havin’ the -gol-rammedest fit you ever had the pleasure of witnessin’, right there -in the waitin’-room!”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="f120"><i>That Fateful Day</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">FREDDIE—How long does the honeymoon last, dad?</p> -<p><span class="smcap">Cobwigger</span>—Until a fellow’s wife learns not to be afraid of him. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="PETREL" id="PETREL"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The Storm-Petrel</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center">PROSE POEM BY MAXIM GORKY</p> -<p class="center">TRANSLATED BY ABRAHAM CAHAN</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>[<span class="smcap">Note</span>: The following prose poem by Maxim -Gorky was written a few years ago in prophecy of the present crisis in -Russia and was published only in <i>Life</i>, the leading literary magazine -of St. Petersburg. In consequence the periodical was immediately -suppressed. The editor and his entire staff voluntarily expatriated -themselves and re-established the magazine in London, whence, during -the few months of its existence in exile, thousands of copies were -smuggled over the frontier for secret circulation.</p> - -<p>Gorky was arrested for complicity in the strikers’ movement that -resulted in the St. Petersburg massacre of January 22 last. The rumor -that the Russian Government purposed to sentence him to death excited -so much feeling, that the foremost literary men of Germany, England -and the United States concerted in an appeal for clemency, on the -ground that the life and work of a great writer belong not alone to his -country but to the world.</p> - -<p>Gorky has risen from the depths of poverty and ignorance to literary -eminence as the interpreter of life among the masses. His first -successful short stories appeared in the newspapers and attracted -attention for their truth and vigor. Since 1893 he has made his -literary position secure by the production of various novels and plays. -He is now thirty-six years old.</p> - -<p class="space-below2">Abraham Cahan, translator of the poem, is a Russian who -has attained distinction among American writers of fiction through short stories -and the novels, “Yekl” and “The White Terror and the Red.”—<span -class="smcap">Editors.</span>]</p> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">OVER the gray expanse of sea the wind is -gathering the clouds. Circling between the clouds and the sea, like a -black flash of lightning, is the storm-petrel on high.</p> - -<p>Now touching a wave with his wing, now shooting heavenward, dart-like, -he is crying, and the clouds hear glad tidings in his cry.</p> - -<p>There is thirst for storm in that cry. The force of rage, the flame of -passion, the confidence of victory do the clouds hear in that cry.</p> - -<p>The gulls are groaning before the storm, groaning and tossing over the -sea; ready to hide their terror at the bottom of the sea.</p> - -<p>The cargeese, too, are groaning. The joy of the struggle is unknown to -them; the din of strife awes them.</p> - -<p>The silly albatross hides his fat body in the cliffs. The proud -storm-petrel alone is soaring boldly, freely over the sea, the waves -singing, dancing on high, coming to meet the thunder.</p> - -<p>The thunder roars. Foaming with fury, the waves are raging, battling -with the wind. Now the wind seizes a flock of waves in gigantic -embrace, now hurls them with savage hate to the rocks, shattering them -to dust and masses of emerald spray.</p> - -<p>Shouting joyously, the storm-petrel is circling like a black flash of -lightning, piercing the clouds like a spear, brushing foam off the -waves with its wings.</p> - -<p>There he is, flying like a demon, a proud, black storm-demon, laughing -and sobbing at once. It is at the clouds he is laughing; it is for joy -he is sobbing.</p> - -<p>In the thunder’s rage the sensitive demon perceives a weary note, the -voice of defeat. He knows that the clouds cannot conceal the sun—not they!</p> - -<p>The wind is sighing; the thunder is pealing. Hundreds of clouds gleam -bluish over the precipice of the sea. The sea is catching darts of -lightning and smothering them in its bosom. Like serpents of fire the -reflections of the lightning are writhing, vanishing one after the other.</p> - -<p>The storm is advancing! Another minute and the storm will come with a crash.</p> - -<p>It is the intrepid storm-petrel who is proudly careering among the -flashes of lightning over the roaring, infuriated sea; it is the -prophet of victory who is shouting.</p> - -<p>Let the storm blow and roar with all its might! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="BUZZ" id="BUZZ"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>What Buzz-Saw Morgan Thinks</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center">BY W. S. MORGAN</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">TRUSTS breed distrust.</p> - -<p>Law cannot make wrong right.</p> - -<p>Charity is no cure for poverty; it is only a plaster.</p> - -<p>A forty-three-cent protective tariff is worse than a fifty-cent dollar.</p> - -<p>Fiat dollars are better than the fiat promises of the old party -politicians.</p> - -<p>The rich will continue to grow richer and the poor poorer as long as -the present financial system exists.</p> - -<p>I want to ask our Democratic friends how often do they need to be -fooled by their leaders before they will get their eyes open?</p> - -<p>Liberty is not safe in a country where greed and avarice are the basis -of its prosperity.</p> - -<p>The gold power owes allegiance to no party, yet it controls the -machines of both old parties.</p> - -<p>If there is anything that is calculated to give the political bosses -the jim-jams it is a show of independence on the part of the masses.</p> - -<p>I would rather be a dog and scratch at the root of a stump for a mouse, -than to feel as small as most rich people do when the assessor and -tax-collector come round.</p> - -<p>Money paid out for public improvements is a blessing compared with that -paid out for war expenses.</p> - -<p>An honest dollar is one that preserves the equity in contracts, and not -the one of increasing or decreasing value, or whose value depends upon -the caprice or self-interest of a few bankers.</p> - -<p>The greatest need of this country is for about seven million men who -have the courage to vote for what they want.</p> - -<p>“The poverty of the poor is their destruction,” and the wealth of the -rich has the same effect on its possessors. These two extremes are the -cause of the downfall of the nations.</p> - -<p>There are some things of which there can be an overproduction, and one -of them is yellow-dog politics.</p> - -<p>Is there a farmer or laborer in all the land that ever signed a -petition to Congress for the destruction of the greenbacks?</p> - -<p>The question of 16 to 1 is still an issue; that is, there are sixteen -reasons why the Democratic party should permit itself to be buried to -one against it.</p> - -<p>The banks are in the field to destroy the greenbacks and secure -complete control of the currency.</p> - -<p>It is not despair but hope that incites revolution. Despair is death.</p> - -<p>The workingmen divide what they produce with every idler in the land, -rich and poor.</p> - -<p>The way to get even with a private trust is for the people to establish -a public trust.</p> - -<p>It wasn’t the so-called “sound money” men that saved the flag.</p> - -<p>It is the hog nature in man that causes most of the suffering in the world.</p> - -<p>Our commercial system rests upon the basis of skinning the other fellow -before he has an opportunity to skin us.</p> - -<p>One of the strongest planks in the devil’s platform is yellow-dog politics.</p> - -<p>The best way to abolish poverty is to establish justice.</p> - -<p>You can’t cheat the devil by passing a law that calls stealing business.</p> - -<p>The lower classes are those who act low—rich or poor.</p> - -<p>The practice of redeeming one kind of a dollar with another kind -constitutes the banker’s cinch. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> - -<p>The harmony that will likely prevail in the next national Democratic -convention might best be illustrated by pouring out a barrel of -Kilkenny cats upon a wet floor.</p> - -<p>I don’t think that Mr. Bryan is a thief, but he had the Populist -platform borrowed so long that he has perhaps inadvertently fallen into -the habit of thinking it is his own.</p> - -<p>Railroads under private ownership form the strongest prop on which the -trusts lean. Through special and reduced rates in the way of rebates -they are enabled to freeze out all competitors.</p> - -<p>It is stated that the rebate given to the Colorado Fuel and Iron -Company by the Santa Fé Railroad while Paul Morton was its traffic -manager amounted to $400,000 a year. Morton was a heavy stockholder -in the Colorado Fuel and Iron Company. If this is true, and this is -the kind of man President Roosevelt is depending on to reform railroad -rates and abolish rebates, we may know just what to expect.</p> - -<p>The supreme test of any question is, is it right? If it is, then no man -should hesitate to declare himself for the right.</p> - -<p>Direct legislation is the very essence of democracy, and that is why -the politicians don’t want it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>If Thomas Lawson is telling the truth it appears that about -three-fourths of the Captains of Industry ought to be wearing striped -clothes behind prison bars.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The President’s recommendation for the control of the railroads, and -the plan he seems to have adopted to go about it, consultation with -the railroad magnates, reminds me of a story I once heard related by a -German speaker at a public meeting. A man who had been considered as -having an unsound mind was found one morning hanging to a beam in the -barn, the rope under his arms. He was promptly cut down, and on being -asked why he hanged himself that way he answered that he was trying to -commit suicide.</p> - -<p>“But why didn’t you place the rope around your neck?” he was asked.</p> - -<p>“I’ve tried it that way twice,” he replied, “and it always chokes me.”</p> - -<p>Is the President afraid of choking the railroad corporations?</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The question of how to get something for nothing is pretty well -illustrated in the free government deposits in national banks. The -banks have now over one hundred millions of dollars of government -money for their own use, for which they do not pay a cent. Yet when -the farmer talks about borrowing money from the government on his land -at 2 per cent. interest, the banks raise a howl of paternalism that -can be heard all around the world. If President Roosevelt is sincere -in his fight on the trusts let him yank that money out of the hands of -the biggest trust of all—the money trust. This is something that he -can do and that ought to be done. There is no constitutional question -involved, and if it be urged that it is necessary for the money to be -in circulation let the government loan it direct to the people without -a rake-off for the banks. This thing of prosecuting the little trusts -and aiding the big ones won’t add any laurels to Teddy’s brow. Let no -guilty trust escape, and there ain’t any innocent ones.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Toledo has just brought in a batch of indictments against some of her -public officials. Governor Durbin, of Indiana, declares: “Statistics -of political debauchery in this State for 1904, if it were possible -to present them, would be nothing short of stunning.” Several other -governors in their messages have called attention to the growth of -corruption in their States, and in Colorado the situation is alarming. -Three United States senators have been indicted within the past year, -besides scores of lesser officials, some of whom are now serving terms -in the penitentiary. Four Republican candidates for governor have been -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> -defeated in Republican States on account of their connection or -sympathy with corrupt practices, and yet the work is only begun. Let -the crusade against political corruption continue. If there is not room -enough in the jails, I move that some of the horse thieves be turned -out and the public thieves turned in.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The express companies once had a monopoly of transmitting money and -charged exorbitant rates for the service. Then the government went -into the business and reduced the rates. The express companies were -compelled to come to the government rates or not get any business. -Thus money is saved to the people, and the business is established on -a firm basis. Of course the express companies set up the usual cry of -paternalism, but it did no good, and the people would not think now of -surrendering this prerogative to private companies. Now, why can’t the -government add to its postal system the carrying of parcels, say up to -ten or twelve pounds’ weight, and a telegraph and telephone system? -The latter are just as legitimate and necessary as the former. Is it -because the express companies, that have grown immensely rich, have a -lobby in Congress to prevent the passage of such a bill? In England -they have the parcels post and the government telegraph, and they -save the people millions of dollars. In the past few years nineteen -congressional committees have been appointed to investigate the use of -the telegraph in connection with the postal department and seventeen -of them have reported favorably toward establishing it. A majority of -Postmaster Generals have recommended it, and the people demand it, yet -the telegraph companies, or rather one company which is controlled by -one family, has been successful in thwarting all legislation toward the -establishment of a government telegraph system.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The readiness of the Democrats to vote for any old thing they see coming -down the pike with the Democratic label on—Parker or Bryan, the gold -standard or free silver—reminds me of an incident that happened down -in Texas. A wealthy farmer who employed a great many negroes was going -into town one day, and one of the negroes on the farm asked him to -bring him back a marriage license.</p> - -<p>“All right, Pete,” said the farmer, “but what’s the girl’s name?”</p> - -<p>“Ann Brown,” replied the darkey.</p> - -<p>When the farmer returned that evening he gave the negro his marriage -license.</p> - -<p>Pete took it and slowly read it over.</p> - -<p>“Look heah, Marse Henry, you’se done gone an’ got dis license fer Mary -Clarke. I’se gwine t’ marry Ann Brown.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry, Pete,” the farmer replied, “but never mind; when I go into -town again next week I’ll get you another license.”</p> - -<p>“What’ll dat cost?” asked Pete.</p> - -<p>“One dollar.”</p> - -<p>“Lordy, nebber mind, Marse. Dere ain’t a dollar’s wuff ob difference -’tween all de coons on de fa’m.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Every effort is now being put forth by the banks to have the greenbacks -retired. So long as they continue to be issued by the government the -banks have not complete control of the money of the country. This -movement to retire the greenbacks was begun directly after the Civil -War. At that time the bankers said: “It will not do to allow the -greenback, as it is called, to circulate as money for any length of -time, for we cannot control that.” Hugh McCulloch, then Secretary of -the Treasury, acting on the bankers’ suggestion, said: “The first thing -to be done is to establish the policy of contraction.” It was done, -and we had the panic of 1873, on account of which thousands lost their -homes. The panic aroused the people and caused the bankers to pause -in their conspiracy. The Greenback party came and $346,000,000 in -greenbacks were saved from destruction. But in the meantime the bankers -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> -had silver secretly demonetized. In 1878, however, it was partially -restored by the Bland-Allison law. But the bankers were still at work. -In October, 1877, the famous Buell circular letter was sent to the -bankers throughout the country. “It is advisable,” said this circular, -“to do all in your power to sustain such prominent daily and weekly -newspapers, especially the agricultural and religious press, as will -oppose the issuing of greenback paper money, and that you also withhold -patronage or favors from all applicants who are not willing to oppose -the government issue of money. Let the government issue the coin and -the banks issue the paper money of the country, for then we can better -protect each other.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In March, 1893, the American Bankers’ Association sent out to all the -national banks what is known as the “panic circular.” In view of the -present efforts on the part of the banks to retire the greenbacks, this -circular furnishes some very good reading matter:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>: The interests of national -bankers require immediate financial legislation by Congress. Silver, -silver certificates and Treasury notes must be retired and national -bank-notes upon a gold basis made the only money. This will require -the authorization of from $500,000,000 to $1,000,000,000 of new bonds -as a basis of circulation. You will at once retire one-third of your -circulation and call in one-half of your loans. Be careful to make a -money stringency felt among your patrons, especially among influential -business men. Advocate an extra session of Congress for the repeal -of the purchasing clause of the Sherman law, and act with the other -banks of your city in securing a large petition to Congress for its -unconditional repeal, as per accompanying form. Use personal influence -with congressmen and particularly let your wishes be known to senators. -The future life of national banks as safe investments depends upon -immediate action, as there is an increasing sentiment in favor of -government legal tender notes and silver coinage.</p> -</div> - -<p>Does anyone but the bankers themselves, and their paid agents, believe -for a moment that it would be safe to surrender the control of the -currency of the country into the hands of men who would put out such a -circular as that? May we not conjecture what they would do when once -they had us in their power? If there are those who are in doubt about -this question, or the patriotism and honesty of the national bankers, -let them read the history of the panics of 1873 and 1893, both of which -were precipitated by the bankers. Let the government take the bankers -at their word and compel them to keep in their banks a reserve gold -fund for the redemption of their own notes. Abolish the gold reserve -in the Treasury and make every greenback a perpetual, absolute money, -receivable for all dues to the United States, and a legal tender for -the payment of private debts. In other words, put the banks where the -government is now, if they are to issue any notes at all, and give the -government the prerogatives which the banks now want, and some of which -they already have. Instead of the government loaning money to the banks -at one-fourth of one per cent., let it loan it to the people direct -at two per cent. Instead of the government maintaining a large supply -of gold for the benefit of the banks, let the banks furnish their own -gold for the redemption of their notes, and compel them to maintain -a 100-cent reserve, for a note that has only 50 cents behind it is -worse than any 50-cent dollar that the banker has ever conjured in his -mind. Money issued by the banks and that issued by the government are -entirely different propositions. If the banks have proved anything they -have proved too much. They have proved that the government credit is -the best in the world, that it will even make the note of a dishonest -banker good. They have proved that it would not be safe to place the -control of the currency into their hands, for they might at any time -issue another panic circular asking the banks to call in “one-third of -their circulation and one-half of their loans,” and a lot of other mean -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> -things that an honest man and a patriot would not do. The question is -now up, and it is nearing the climax where the people must decide as to -whether the banks will control the currency of the country, and through -it the business of the country, or whether the power shall remain in -the hands of the people, as Jefferson says, “where it belongs.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div> -<a name="FAMILY" id="FAMILY"> </a> -<p class="f120"><i>A Family Necessity</i></p></div> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="drop-cap">“JAMES,” said Mrs. Talkyerdeth, as she discontentedly -jabbed her hatpins into the hat she had just taken off, “one of us has got to be -operated on.”</p> - -<p>“Wha-at!” ejaculated Mr. Talkyerdeth, sitting up with a jolt.</p> - -<p>“And right away, and seriously, too,” continued Mrs. Talkyerdeth, -setting her lips firmly.</p> - -<p>“What are you talking about, Maria?” demanded Mr. Talkyerdeth impatiently.</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s so,” asserted Mrs. Talkyerdeth decidedly. “Will you -telephone for a surgeon, or shall I?”</p> - -<p>“Why, my dear,” protested Mr. Talkyerdeth anxiously, “I hadn’t the -least suspicion that there was anything the matter with you.”</p> - -<p>“There isn’t,” snapped Mrs. Talkyerdeth. “Do you take me for one of -these puling, pasty, putty-like females all the women seem to be nowadays?”</p> - -<p>“Well, there’s nothing the matter with me, either,” asserted Mr. -Talkyerdeth, with intense relief in every glad accent. “I never felt -better in my life than I do this minute.”</p> - -<p>“I know it. But what difference does that make?” demanded Mrs. -Talkyerdeth sharply.</p> - -<p>“Eh?” cried Mr. Talkyerdeth, his eyelids flying up and his lower jaw -dropping down until there seemed to be some danger of their colliding, -if they kept on, in the middle of the back of his head.</p> - -<p>“I never was so mortified in my life as I was at the sewing society -this afternoon, and it’s never going to happen again,” replied Mrs. -Talkyerdeth positively. “So you can just make up your mind that the -doctor is going to chop something, I don’t care what, out of one of us -right straight off. Why, every woman there was telling all about either -her own or her husband’s operation, and I had to sit with my mouth shut -all afternoon, just because we’ve never had one!”</p> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Alex. Ricketts.</span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> -<div><a name="SONGS" id="SONGS"> </a> -<p class="f120"><i>The Songs We Love</i></p></div> - -<p class="center">BY EUGENE C. DOLSON</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="bigfont">T</span>HE songs we love, the dear heart songs<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That light us on our way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are records of our smiles and tears—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our lives from day to day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For words to simple nature true<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are those that reach the heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that which thrills the common soul<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is still the highest art.<br /> - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="BLIQUE" id="BLIQUE"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The Alligator of Blique Bayou</i><br /><small>A CUBAN TALE</small></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-below1">BY FRANK SAVILE</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE smoking-room steward yawned his despair. The card -parties had broken up half an hour before, nightcap drinks had been ordered, -tumblers had been emptied, and half a dozen men had risen to their feet -with “Good night” upon their lips. It looked as if the long-suffering -attendant were to be allowed a real six hours’ sleep below.</p> - -<p>And then a single word—“fishing”—had changed all these bright -prospects in the twinkling of an eye. The globe-trotting Englishman, -Mathers, was vaunting the fifty-six-pound salmon he had caught in the -Sands River, British Columbia. It seemed that not a man in the room -could take to his bed in peace till he had confuted the boaster from -stores of personal experience. Fresh cigars were lit, tumblers were -refilled, and story climbed upon story in unctuous mendacity.</p> - -<p>Muller, the German bagman, bumbled tales of Baltic sturgeon that would -make two bites of the British Columbian salmon if they encountered them -after breakfast time; Morehead, fresh from Florida, smiled superiorly -as he told of one-hundred-and-fifty-pound tarpon, caught with a line -and rod, of the weight of a walking-cane; Rivaz, the creole, asked what -was the matter with a two-hundred-weight tuna that it should score -second place to what was nothing more than a glorified herring? Across -the clouds of smoke romance answered to romance; falsehood was fought -with its own weapons.</p> - -<p>Finally Morehead, abandoning his earliest illustration, harked back to -the land from which it was drawn. Alligators—had any one of them -enjoyed the sport of hanging a looped line over an alligator run, and -opening a manhole through the earth upon their lairs? That was fishing -if you liked, with the odds upon the fish! Till you had joined in the -tug which yanked a fighting saurian ashore you didn’t know what human -muscles could stand—you might go shark-fishing every day of your life, -and miss learning it.</p> - -<p>The suddenness of the topic left him, for the moment, master of the -field. Professional liars, hurriedly reviewing their conversational -equipments, found themselves with no better weapon than an already -over-tempered imagination. None of them had been in Florida—none could -supply the substratum of fact which alone is a true foundation for -convincing fiction.</p> - -<p>Then a new voice shattered the periods of Morehead’s triumph. In the -corner, with one foot banked against the table and the other stretched -across the lounge, sat a long and lanky graybeard, his extended limbs -giving him something of the effect of a pair of human compasses. So far -he had added nothing to the conversation.</p> - -<p>“Say, now, my dear sir,” he drawled plaintively, “you know you have not -got any <i>real</i> alligators in Florida.”</p> - -<p>The young man’s face grew purple.</p> - -<p>“Not got any!” he blared. “Not got any!”</p> - -<p>“Not to call <i>alligators</i>!” persisted the veteran complacently. “What, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> -now, would be your idea of the length, breadth and jaw-capacity of one -of your little pets?”</p> - -<p>The youth drew a calculating breath and eyed his questioner narrowly.</p> - -<p>“I assisted, a short time back, to capture one eighteen feet long,” -he lied coldly. The man on the lounge accepted the statement with a -patronizing little nod.</p> - -<p>“There now!” he agreed. “It just bears out what I say. Nowadays there -aren’t any of a size to <i>call</i> alligators. When <i>I</i> was in Florida, -it might be forty or it might be fifty years ago, that kind of small -fry were reckoned in among the lizards. When we went hunting what the -New York manufacturers call crocodile leather, anything less than four -fathoms from tail-tip to smile we shouldered out of the way. One of -thirty feet, I allow, we considered a circumstance.”</p> - -<p>A murmur rustled up from the assembly. Even the steward’s unconscious -grimace spoke of incredulity.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” continued the old man pleasantly. “I see your eyebrows rise, -but that won’t prevent my assuring you that my recollections don’t -stop there. For over a year I had the personal acquaintance of one -that measured from end to end not a single inch less than twelve slimy -yards. But that,” he allowed generously, “was not in Florida.”</p> - -<p>“Barnum’s Museum?” suggested Morehead contemptuously, and the listeners -grinned. The veteran was not put out.</p> - -<p>“No,” he contradicted, “not even in the United States. Yet, at the same -time, not so far from home. In Cuba—to be explicit.”</p> - -<p>There was a shout of derision. Not less than six of those present had -been volunteers in the war.</p> - -<p>“Cuba!” they bawled in chorus. “There isn’t a crocodile in the island -that would crowd a bathtub!” added Morehead defiantly.</p> - -<p>The graybeard eyed them serenely.</p> - -<p>“Of course,” he said, with a humble note of interrogation, “you’re -posted—you know every inch of the country from Baracoa to Corrientes?”</p> - -<p>Morehead moved a little restlessly.</p> - -<p>“I was three months around Santiago with my regiment,” said he.</p> - -<p>“And spent every spare second examining the creeks, I don’t doubt,” -said the other cheerfully. “My boy,” he went on, “I had been five -years in the country before you began to attend kindergarten. In those -days the fame of the Blique Bayou alligator was known to every soul -within a hundred miles of Guantanama. I don’t mind allowing that the -name of Everett P. Banks—which is what I’m called when I’m at home, -gentlemen—was a good deal in men’s mouths about the same time. We were -much mixed up together, one way or another, that astounding beast and I.”</p> - -<p>The steward leaned his head upon his palms, and swore gently beneath -his breath. He told himself that this evil old man was about to knock -another half-hour off the night’s rest. He recognized in the gray eyes -a triumphant light—the gleam that illumines the face of the raconteur -whose audience is assured.</p> - -<p>Morehead was still dissatisfied.</p> - -<p>“Blique Bayou?” he repeated superciliously. “Blique Bayou?”</p> - -<p>Banks nodded with an indulgent air.</p> - -<p>“On the map it appears as the San Antonio River,” he explained, “and -it flows into the sea about a mile to the west of the Buena Esperanza -Mining Company’s settlement. As it was notorious that Emil Blique, the -West Indian, owned all the shares, the hill that was topped by the -shafting was called Blique Mountain, and the creek and swamp around it -Blique Bayou. For five years I was manager of the whole outfit. And a -knock-kneed crowd they were,” he added reminiscently.</p> - -<p>Mathers interrupted. It looked as if the narrative were going to jump -the tracks to be wrecked on outside issues.</p> - -<p>“The alligator,” he insisted. “We want the tale of the alligator!”</p> - -<p>The old man stared at him in gentle surprise. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t keep a man of my age out of his berth to tell you yarns -thirty years old?” he deprecated.</p> - -<p>“We would,” said Mathers determinedly. “What’s yours?”</p> - -<p>Startled out of his equanimity, the ancient allowed that so far he -had encountered nothing to abash whisky—plain. But as for the story -at that time of night—well, well, they needn’t make all that noise. -If it had to be done he supposed he had better get to it as quickly -as possible. He paused, took a gulp at the tumbler the steward -placed before him, and let a meditative glance dwell upon Morehead, -who had made a motion to rise. Catching his eye, the Floridian -suddenly abandoned his purpose, and sat down in a pose of exasperated -resignation.</p> - -<p>“It was somewhere about ’81—or it might be ’82,” began the old man, -anchoring his gaze mildly upon Morehead’s uncompromising features, -“that I landed at Santiago from Savannah, with a letter in my pocket -from my late employer, George S. Gage, to Señor Emil Blique, Buena -Esperanza; the letter and myself being respectively part answers to -a wild telegram that my boss had received ten days before. The West -Indian had cabled that his manager had died of yellow fever, and that -he was alone with nothing but creole help to drive the congregation of -hard-shell niggers and dagos that he paid to grub manganese from the -bowels of the earth.</p> - -<p>“He wanted a man, he said, with a knowledge of mining and with two -working fists. He laid particular stress upon the second qualification, -and offered such a one three hundred dollars a month to come at the -earliest opportunity.</p> - -<p>“Gage told me that if I’d the spirit of a louse I’d run along and take -it. Otherwise, he said, he’d offer it to Altsheler, the under manager, -who was a wicked man behind a pistol, but with no kind of idea of using -four fingers and a thumb when the gun got lost. That’s a terrible fault -among dagos. They are frightened of a knock-down blow, because they -don’t understand it. But when you start gunning among them—well, they -can gun and knife themselves—some.</p> - -<p>“You mightn’t think it, gentlemen, but in those days I’d a fist like -a ham, and I concluded, after consideration, that the job was built -for my particular talents and not for Altsheler’s. Ten days after that -telegram arrived I was bumping along the trail to Blique Mountain, -wondering just how hard those three hundred dollars would be to collect -at the end of every four weeks.</p> - -<p>“I needn’t have troubled. For a Jamaican, old Emil was as straight a -man as I have ever known. His cheque was good money every time I cashed -it, and, when I’d got the hang of the business, fairly easy earned. -During the first fortnight I filled an eye for two mine hands <i>per -diem</i>, and by the end of that time the crowd began to understand just -where their best interest lay. They reasoned it out that they’d have -to do as they were told, and after that things went like clockwork. -When I’d got them really tame, indeed, I found that I could slack off -in the afternoons when old man Blique was moving about himself, and so -I looked around for relaxation. Like all of you, I was something of a -fisherman.</p> - -<p>“Naturally, I turned my steps toward the bayou, and it was there that -I made the acquaintance of Pedro Garsia, Concepcion, his son, and the -other member of the family, as I must call him, for from every point -of view, he was treated like a relation. I allude to my friend Joaquin -el Legardo—Jimmy the Alligator, in the vernacular—and he, I repeat, -was every inch of thirty-six feet long. I dare say he was a hundred and -fifty years old, and he led a more or less blameless existence in the -swamp and stream adjacent to the Garsia bungalow.</p> - -<p>“At first, though, it looked as if our relations might be strained. I’d -got down to the bank, fitted up my rod and cast a speculative lump of -frog’s flesh into the water just to see if anything sizeable was on the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> -move. No sooner had I made the cast than there was a boil and a rush -’way out in midstream, and an ugly dun snout bobbed above the surface -and took down my bait and half my line before I realized what was -happening. It didn’t take me long to understand. I saw the great jaws -open and champ viciously on the good catgut that was tangled in the -yellow teeth, and I said a wicked word. Also I drew my revolver. Before -I’d got it cocked I heard a terrible uproar from behind.</p> - -<p>“An old man, with silver-white hair hanging over a chocolate-brown -face, was running toward me, shouting as if he’d break a blood vessel.</p> - -<p>“‘No shoot!’ he bawled, ‘no shoot!’ and he waved his arms with some of -the most complete gesticulations I have ever witnessed. I put down my -pistol and waited till he arrived panting.</p> - -<p>“He was too much out of breath to say much at first, but what he did -manage to whisper was to the point. ‘<i>Bueno legardo</i>—<i>bueno</i>,’ he -repeated, pointing to the brute that was playing cat’s-cradle with my -fishing line, and then, tapping the butt of my revolver, ‘no shoot—no!’</p> - -<p>“I can tell you I was mystified, for the idea of a <i>good</i> alligator, -as he kept calling it, was outside the pale of my experiences. I told -him so. But he nodded and beckoned and led me down the bank a couple -of hundred yards till we were opposite his house. There I found a rope -stretched between two stumps across the river, with a loop running on -it, and this last was lashed to the bow of a pirogue.</p> - -<p>“‘This mine,’ he explained, smiling. ‘This what you call a ferry.’ I -looked at the boat. Then I remembered that coming up from Santiago the -road had circled widely. Blique Mountain had been in sight a good hour -before we reached it and my driver had made me understand that we were -avoiding the river. This was evidently the short cut for foot travelers.</p> - -<p>“‘If this is the ferry, why in the name of gracious don’t you let -me fill that old pirate with lead?’ I asked, as the brute floated -comfortably by. ‘Not that he’d mind,’ I added, as I realized the size -of him, ‘but you should get a howitzer and pump a six-pound ball -through him. Some day, when your catboat’s full of people, he’ll upset -it and fill his larder for a fortnight.’</p> - -<p>“The old man smiled agreeably and put his head on one side like a -magpie. He cocked me a comical look out of the corner of his eye.</p> - -<p>‘This river not deep,’ he explained glibly. ‘This what you call ford -one time,’ and he pointed toward the eddies that swirled between us and -the opposite bank. I could see that they were running over shallows -nowhere more than four feet deep. And at that the old chap toddled into -the house and reappeared with a basket load of decaying lizard flesh. -He came close to me and gave me a little nudge.</p> - -<p>“‘Ford one time,’ he repeated, taking a lump of offal and tossing -it into the stream. Then he gave me another nudge, and grinned. -‘Joaquin—’ he drew my attention to the dun snout that came floating -down upon the bait—‘<i>Joaquin make it ferry!</i>’</p> - -<p>“I gave him one look, and he answered me with a grimace that would have -done credit to an idol. Then I sat down and laughed and laughed till I -was sore. The originality of it! The old scoundrel was positively and -actually maintaining his private alligator to put the fear of death -upon the niggers and mulattos that used the short cut into the town, -and was reaping a harvest of ferry dues over a four-foot deep river!</p> - -<p>“He watched me, as I shouted, quite politely, and when I’d had my laugh -out insisted on escorting me into his house and offering me a glass of -aguardiente. While I was sipping it he was rummaging among his litter -and finally produced me a line in the place of the one that Joaquin had -snatched. He insisted on binding it on to my reel, and then, in his -broken English, began to explain just where the best fishing stands -could be found along the banks. And he didn’t stop a-telling. He took -me out when the sun got lower and gave me a few practical hints upon the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> -spot. He laid himself out to be agreeable, and at the end of a couple -of hours we were as thick as thieves.</p> - -<p>“When we got back to the shanty we found a thick, squat, low-browed -young man smoking a cigarette on the veranda. The old man introduced -him as his son, Concepcion. The youth bowed, smirked and expressed his -sense of the honor in perfect English, yet somehow I didn’t take to him -as I had done to his parent. He had the same magpie way of looking at -you as his father had, but with a difference. The old man did it with -a laugh in his eye: the young one furtively, shiftily and without the -ghost of a smile.</p> - -<p>“It came about that for the next twelve months I was thrown a good deal -into the company of the Garsias. They lived openly on the earnings -of their ferry, but I suspected that they made a little by selling -aguardiente to my dagos and niggers. But they knew when to stop—they -never sent one of my crowd back so’s he couldn’t take his spell the day -after a carouse, and anything short of that I winked at.</p> - -<p>“Old man Blique was not a conversationalist, and the two at the -bungalow were practically my only company for days together. And when -they were out of the way I got into the habit of regarding even Joaquin -as a sort of companion. I got to know his haunts, and where a newcomer -would have seen nothing but an ugly log, half buried in the mud, I -could recognize the upper half of the alligator’s countenance and his -little, straight, slit eyes winking at me most benevolent.</p> - -<p>“And yet he was the one that put an end to all this simplicity and -loving kindness. I don’t know if the fish supply in the river grew -short. Perhaps in his old age he developed epicurean tastes. But nasty -stories suddenly began to come in. Fowls went, pigs were missed and -never heard of again, a couple of steers disappeared from an <i>estancia</i> -higher up the river, and a mare of Emil’s was robbed of her colt and -pervaded the banks of the bayou for weeks, neighing like a lost soul. -Joaquin grew to be the most unpopular personage in the neighborhood.</p> - -<p>“The worst, however, was to come. Red Rambo, the head man of a gang -that worked Number 44 level, and a mulatto went spreeing off to -Santiago one fine evening before a Saint’s Day. The next afternoon, -late, as I was fishing, he appeared on the opposite bank, evidently -full up, calling to Pedro to fetch him and his mates across. The moment -the old man had got the pirogue against the far bank Red Rambo started -to call him every kind of extortioner and money-sucker, and, seeing -that it was from a mulatto to a pure-breed creole, I don’t wonder that -the old man got mad. He refused to take the fellow over—told him to -cool his blood by walking six miles round.</p> - -<p>“Unfortunately Rambo had drunk himself up to the pitch of Dutch -obstinacy and Dutch courage. He came splashing into the river, wading -after the pirogue and cursing Pedro by every saint in the nigger calendar.</p> - -<p>“Some of the low-down half-castes, who’d believe anything, used to -declare that Joaquin was the familiar spirit of the Garsia family and -was sworn to protect them in this life in return for a note of hand -for their souls in the life to come. I could see some of the men in -the boat just shivering for Red Rambo as they listened to the insults -he was piling upon the old boy, and their shivers were prophetic. For -there came a sudden swirl upon the surface of the calm in midstream, -and then a little grooving eddy shot toward the mulatto with the rush -of a millrace.</p> - -<p>“He yelled, tossed up his arms, and made a half-turn toward the shore. -Through a long instant I could see his finger-tips quiver against the -green of a fern palm opposite. And then he was <i>gone</i>—snatched down -from below as suddenly as the pantomime clown drops through the trap -in the boards. A little foaming cone of water burst up from the whirl -where he disappeared, and long, irregular stains floated away from its -crimson centre. But never another sign of Rambo was seen again, either -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> -in the water or out of it. Joaquin was both his murderer and his grave!</p> - -<p>“In justice to poor old Pedro I must allow that he was the man who -took the thing most to heart. He screeched, he gesticulated, he called -down curses upon the alligator from all the angels of paradise, and -he made as if he would leap into the river and fall upon Joaquin with -nothing more than a pocket-knife; in fact, it took all the exertions -of the other niggers to keep him from it. They got him ashore at last -pretty well demented and fighting like a maniac. He had to be tied to -his bed before we durst leave him to himself. When the others had gone -jabbering off home I shook my head solemnly at Concepcion.</p> - -<p>“‘That means the end of Joaquin,’ I said. ‘Tomorrow I shall get orders -from the boss to fill him up with Winchester bullets, and then where’s -your ferry?’</p> - -<p>“The Spaniard was as pale as milk. He looked away from me to his father -foaming upon the bed, and then he gave a queer little high-pitched -laugh.</p> - -<p>“‘Señor Banks,’ he answered, ‘there may be two sides to that question. -Señor Blique owns the mines, but not the river or the alligator. That -dirt-begotten negro brought his fate upon himself.’</p> - -<p>“I looked at him narrowly, and noticed that he was ostentatiously and -abnormally calm. That’s a bad sign in a creole. They are safer red and -roaring. Cold and white they’re malicious.</p> - -<p>“‘My dear friend,’ said I politely, ‘there is no law against alligator -shooting. Whatever orders I get I shall obey—be sure of that and take -a friendly warning. Joaquin can’t stay hereabouts after that bloody -exploit—it’s absurd to expect it.’</p> - -<p>“He bowed quite pleasantly.</p> - -<p>“‘If warnings are in order, señor,’ he replied, ‘take one from me. -The man that kills Joaquin will not live long to boast of it!’ And at -that he drew back the curtain from before the door and gave me a very -significant view of the street. I took the hint and, without another -word, marched out. And I did it sideways, too. You don’t expose the -broad of your back to a man of Concepcion’s singular talents without -making sure that he’s leaving his knife in his belt.</p> - -<p>“Of course, as I predicted, old Emil was not prepared to stand any -nonsense from Pedro Garsia, his son, or Joaquin. Rambo was one of his -best foremen. He gave me the strictest orders to take my gun to the -alligator the first thing in the morning and to revenge the mulatto if -it took all day. I nodded, shrugged my shoulders, and went to bed.</p> - -<p>“The first news brought me in the morning was that old Pedro was -dead. The shock had brought on brain fever, and the son’s homeopathic -treatment of forcing aguardiente down his throat had lifted the fever -to the point of delirium. In the night the patient had burst his bonds -and broken straight for the river. His son and their nigger servant had -been aroused by the noise and had followed.</p> - -<p>“They were just about ten seconds too late. The old man stumbled upon -the bank and went sprawling half in and half out of the water, his -outstretched hand falling upon what the nigger thought was a floating log.</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t. For the log split into twin jaws, and, as the other two -snatched the poor old fellow up, the open fangs came together just -below the unfortunate wretch’s shoulder. It was only a piece of corpse -that they carried back into the veranda, while Joaquin went smiling off -into midstream to enjoy a most unexpected dessert.</p> - -<p>“I considered, of course, that any son with Christian feelings would -spare me any further trouble in the matter of the alligator’s death. -That, for the sake of commercial advantage, Concepcion would allow -his parent to go unrevenged seemed out of the question. I took my -Winchester with me as I strolled down to the river merely because I -thought he might be too much overcome with grief to have completed his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> -obvious duty, and that I might do him a neighborly turn by forestalling him.</p> - -<p>“You can imagine my surprise, then, when I saw, as I turned the corner -of the Garsia bungalow, Concepcion, standing alone upon the river -bank, the usual basket of offal on the ground beside him, tossing the -contents into the water, lump by lump! The alligator was taking them, -serenely and regularly, waiting for them with half-open jaws as a -lapdog waits for biscuits!</p> - -<p>“There are moments when one’s impulses take the reins into their teeth -and bolt. I made no sound—I said nothing. I strode silently up behind -the man, drew a clear bead upon the brute’s eye and sent a bullet plumb -into his wicked brain. And as he ripped out of the water and rolled -over in his agony I fired another cartridge at the junction of his -forearm and body, and that was the end of his floundering. He sank like -a lump of lead.</p> - -<p>“The Spaniard gave a yell as I fired the first time. I brought my rifle -down from the second shot to see him springing straight at me. I pulled -him up short. With the butt at my hip and the muzzle pointing straight -at his chest, I made him understand just what to expect if he came a -step nearer. He halted five yards away—panting.</p> - -<p>“For ten seconds we two stood there, each glaring into the other’s -face, and if the light of hell ever burns in a man’s eyes, I saw it so -burning in the eyes of Concepcion Garsia. His shirt was open at the -neck—I could watch the drumming of his heart within his ribs!</p> - -<p>“And then the tenseness of his limbs gave. He seemed to fall in -upon himself. He just gasped one threatening word—‘<i>Mañana!</i>’ -(tomorrow!)—turned upon his heel and staggered off toward his house -like a drunken man! I did not see him again for a fortnight.</p> - -<p>“Of course, after that, the fact that there was a strain of madness in -the Garsia family didn’t seem to me open to doubt. And, pondering the -question, I determined that I must be very much upon my guard whenever -I visited the ferry. My fishing excursions I gave up entirely and I -wore my six-shooter night and day. No—with Concepcion I was taking no risks.</p> - -<p>“That same evening Joaquin’s carcass floated up upon a sandbank a -hundred yards below the bungalow. The next morning it was gone. The -bush behind the bank was trampled and bloodstained, and the niggers -began to whisper. They told me, in confidence, that the Spaniard had -dug his heart out to make a fetich of and that I was doomed to many -lingering torments. Naturally, I took small notice of that sort of thing.</p> - -<p>“The hands, now that the ferry had become a ford again, went much -more frequently down to Santiago, and it was not long before I heard -that Concepcion had been seen there. But his bungalow was closed, his -nigger had been sent about his business, and the weeds began to fill -his garden, as weeds do in tropical countries alone. At the end of a -couple of weeks I began to believe that we had seen the last of Señor -Concepcion.</p> - -<p>“And then a thing happened that appeared to be no less than a miracle. -One evening, less than half an hour after a score of the hands had set -out to spend the next day’s fiesta in the town, nineteen of them were -back in my veranda, yelling, screeching that Joaquin was returned—back -and playing his old tricks again! He had risen in the midst of them as -they forded the stream and had taken down Tome, a quadroon pickman, -exactly as he had taken down Red Rambo less than a month before.</p> - -<p>“Of course, I didn’t believe them. I had seen my bullets go home into -Joaquin’s brain and heart and I opined that Tome, for the joke of the -thing, had dived with a bit of a splutter and was probably laughing -himself into convulsions at the success of the trick. I put this view -of the case to the others mildly.</p> - -<p>“They didn’t seem to have breath enough to pour all the contempt they -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> -felt upon the idea. ‘Dived! Joking!’ He was pulled down, screaming, -they declared—they saw the jaws close on him—there wasn’t one of them -five yards from him when he was taken!</p> - -<p>“I shrugged my shoulders, took my rifle and went back with them to the -river bank. You can just figure my astonishment when a dun snout, as -like the late Joaquin’s as one pea is like another, cut a lazy ripple -across the surface as it went sliding out from the bank into midstream! -And the boil of his tail showed up ten yards behind his head. I hadn’t -believed that there was another such alligator in the wide world!</p> - -<p>“These reflections didn’t prevent my rifle-butt coming up to my -shoulder. I aimed for a point three inches behind the snout. We heard -the bullet thud, but the brute didn’t twitch—he didn’t even close his -half-open eye! He just let the water close slowly over his head—so -slowly that I found time to empty my magazine at him as he sank. Every -one of the five bullets hit his wicked head, and the last glanced -off! We knew it by the sound of a second thud among the echoes of the -report, while a splash of splintered wood showed on a branch on the -opposite side of the stream. Positively and actually, this new Joaquin -had a shot-proof skull!</p> - -<p>“The niggers were gabbling excitedly about Ju-ju, and such like -idolatries, while the dagos were little better. As for me, I sat down -upon a stump and took my head in my hands. That two brutes of the same -size should appear in the same unimportant little Cuban creek was -almost unbelievable—to the superstitious imaginations of the mine -hands it could be explained in one way alone. It was debbil-debbil, and -they went off home up the hill, starting out of their skins if a bird -rustled in the bushes. I was left sitting and wondering.</p> - -<p>“At the sound of an opening door some time later I looked up. -Concepcion Garsia came sauntering out of the bungalow. I reached for my -Winchester.</p> - -<p>“He strolled on toward me slowly and complacently, halted a few yards -away and bowed. There was a wicked sneer round his thin lips.</p> - -<p>“‘<i>Buenos dias, señor</i>,’ (Good day) he said as he raised his hat. -‘As you remarked, it is permitted to shoot alligators. That, it appears, -does not always include the killing of them,’ and he laughed—his queer -high-pitched laugh.</p> - -<p>“For the moment I was tongue-tied. The suggestion that an animal whose -brain had been shattered by my bullet was still alive was ridiculous, -but—well, the ‘but’ was to explain this new brute of the same size in -precisely the same spot. I looked Garsia squarely in the eyes.</p> - -<p>“‘Do you mean to imply that Joaquin has come back?’ I asked.</p> - -<p>“He shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“‘<i>Quien sabe</i>—who knows?’ he answered, with that impudent smile still -twisting his lips. ‘What is your own opinion, señor?’</p> - -<p>“I patted the breech of my rifle.</p> - -<p>“‘It is here,’ I said quietly. ‘Joaquin—or another, I shall continue -the old treatment, <i>amigo</i> (friend). Half an ounce of lead—at frequent -intervals.’</p> - -<p>“He laughed again jeeringly, and turned upon his heel.</p> - -<p>“‘Continue it, señor, continue it,’ he cried over his shoulder, ‘but -remember that all things come to an end, even your treatment and -perhaps—yourself!’</p> - -<p>“The next minute he had slammed the door of his bungalow, and I, not -forgetting what an excellent mark for a bullet I was against the yellow -of the tinder-dry bush, hastened to put a tree between myself and the -shuttered window.</p> - -<p>“There is no need to go into details of the next three months. It is -sufficient to say that the alligator began a reign of terror at the -ford. Horses went—goats, steers, poultry. And the river was almost -deserted, for boats were no longer a protection. The planters, who had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> -been accustomed to use the water for a highway between their -<i>estancias</i>, gave it up after no less than five pirogues had been -charged by the monster, and upset. One of the crew always sank, never -to rise again. Strangers using the foot road, and too impatient to wait -for the chance of being ferried when the boat was the wrong side, were -snatched up. Finally the heavy ferry pirogue itself was capsized, and -Manuel, the creole overseer, was lost. With him went, moreover, two -thousand <i>pesetas</i> in cash, which he was bringing up from the bank at -Santiago for pay day.</p> - -<p>“No less than twenty poor wretches went to their account in one way -or another in those twelve weeks, and the countryside grew desperate. -Enough bullets were showered upon the alligator to sink him by pure -weight if they had only stuck in him, but he seemed to mind them no -more than peas! I spent a week’s pay in cartridges myself.</p> - -<p>“Of course, it is all very well to sit here in this smoking-room and -laugh out of court ideas about Ju-ju, fetish work, Whydah and all -those sorts of deviltries. They don’t go with ten-thousand-ton boats, -electric light and the last special edition Marconigram. But it gets -on your nerves if you sit day after day beside a jungle-ringed swamp, -listening to all that a couple of hundred niggers have to tell you -about the tropical powers of the Evil One. And that there was something -mysterious in the business I could swear—something, too, that my -instincts told me Concepcion Garsia held the key to. The sight of his -face the few times I passed him witnessed to that. There was a glint -of triumph in his eye that was simply diabolical. And yet he seldom -showed himself. Passers-by used the ferry pirogue as they liked—the <i>centimos</i> -that his father used to collect he seemed to think no more about.</p> - -<p>“Well, as Concepcion himself remarked, there is an end to everything, -even to this story, and it fell to my lot to write finis across it. -But it was Providence alone that kept me from being the page and the -Spaniard the writer. It was just this way.</p> - -<p>“I sat, one evening, on the bank not far from the bungalow, reading. -I was keeping an occasional lookout for the alligator, though as the -seasonal floods were just falling he hadn’t been seen for two or three -weeks. I had my revolver in my belt, more by habit than with any hope -of doing him mortal harm with it. Experience had proved that the -heaviest rifle bullets didn’t affect him. Just as I finished a chapter -a voice hailed me from across the stream.</p> - -<p>“I looked up, and recognized Señora Barenna, the wife of the planter -at the <i>estancia</i> behind Blique Mountain. She was waving her hand, -and beckoning to me to bring the pirogue across.</p> - -<p>“I was surprised to see her there, for neither she nor her husband -used the ferry, as the metaled road to Santiago passed close to their -house. But naturally I didn’t wait for explanations at that distance. -I ran down, got into the boat and began to pull hand over hand on the -guide-rope. The señora welcomed me with a smile.</p> - -<p>“‘You may well stare,’ she said, as I gave her my hand to help her down -the bank, ‘to find me in such a situation. I was driving from the town -when our stupid mules took fright at a wild pig that ran between their -feet. They swerved, bolted into the bush, smashed a wheel and there I -found myself, less than three miles from home by the ford, and six by -the road! You may imagine which I chose.’</p> - -<p>“‘I’m truly sorry for your misfortune,’ said I, ‘but truly glad of the -opportunity of doing you a service,’ for Spanish ladies expect this -sort of thing and I began to collect my ideas for a further succession -of compliments. I never had a chance to frame them, for the pirogue, -which was in midstream again by now, quivered with a tremendous shock. -It was lifted half out of the water!</p> - -<p>“The next instant it began to rock from side to side, broke from the -loop which held it to the guide-rope, and finally upset. The señora -screamed, and both she and I instinctively grasped the strands above -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> -our heads. The boat floated on its side from beneath our feet!</p> - -<p>“She was hanging by her hands alone. I swung up my feet, got a good -purchase by crooking my knee, and so, freeing one arm, hauled her up by -the waist beside me.</p> - -<p>“Fortunately, she was an active woman, and she kept her presence of -mind. I shouted to her to unfasten the shoulder-shawl she wore, and to -fasten it over the rope and around her waist. She had done it in less -time than it takes to tell of it, but as she did it my heart jumped -into my mouth. Our combined weights amounted to more than the rope had -been stayed up to bear. The poles to which it was lashed at each end -slanted. We dipped till, owing to the height of the flood, we swung a -bare six inches above the surface! And, of course, I had a very good -idea of what had upset the boat!</p> - -<p>“I had not to wait long. There was a boil of the eddies not ten yards -away and the familiar dun snout lifted and showed the upper half of -an open jaw. The brute made a bee-line for the bait that hung so -attractively at his mercy.</p> - -<p>“Señora Barenna’s shriek was piercing. As for me—well, I spoke before -of the sudden way in which an impulse masters one. I saw in an instant -that it was a case of two or one, and a sort of frenzy of rage seized -upon me. With a curse I flung myself down upon the brute’s head, -feeling with my thumbs for his eyes, while, released from my weight, -the rope jerked the señora up six feet into safety.</p> - -<p>“The next few seconds were a sort of disconnected nightmare. The water -closed over my head, the great jaws worked beneath my hands, and then a -blow struck me on the chest, exactly over the book that I had placed in -my breast-pocket a minute or two before.</p> - -<p>“At times like those one’s reason is not in the very best working -order, but even then I was quite capable of recognizing that the blow -could not have been dealt by an alligator’s clumsy limbs. And my legs -and feet, too, instead of meeting the resistance of the brute’s back, -were sprawled along nothing more solid than a twenty-foot pole!</p> - -<p>“My hand gripped my revolver from my belt, searched with it aimlessly -downward and sideways, and blundered against what I felt to be a living -body. At the same time the blow was repeated, but not quite in the same -place. The point of an edged weapon slipped across the smooth cover of -the book and gashed into my ribs. At that I pulled the trigger!</p> - -<p>“And many a time since have I thanked Providence for the man that -invented brass-drawn, water-tight cartridges. For as I fired there was -a great bubbling rush from the explosion that rocked me over, while the -huge head below me heaved violently. Like a leaping salmon it burst -with me above the surface!</p> - -<p>“The flood caught us, gripped us, and whirled us away together, to -fling us up upon a shallow bank of mud. And as I struggled to my feet I -looked down upon Concepcion’s dead body, a wound gaping in it from my -bullet, while beside him was stranded a great sheet-iron shell, floated -with leathern bags and surmounted with the stuffed head of old Joaquin! -Behind it stretched a pole ornamented with the tip of the same animal’s tail!</p> - -<p>“Well, gentlemen, I don’t know that there is much more to add. After -I had climbed along the rope and dragged Señora Barenna into safety -I kicked open the door of the bungalow and left her there, while I -hurried up to the works for help. But before I sent old Emil and his -housekeeper down with cordials, and so forth, I got the old man’s -permission to knock the hands off at once. I had my reasons.</p> - -<p>“I lined those superstitious fools along the mud-bank before that sham -scaffolding of an alligator, and the sermon I preached them on the -follies of Ju-ju ought to have converted them then and there. But the -results were entirely contrary to my expectations. For when, some years -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> -later, after I had left old Emil, I returned for a short visit to the -Barennas, who were always my grateful friends, I found Joaquin’s head -hung in their veranda.</p> - -<p>“A servant who did not know me saw me looking at it.</p> - -<p>“‘That American debbil-debbil,’ he explained politely, and pointed -to the little brass plate his master had had stuck upon it with an -inscription setting forth that I had shot the brute on such and such a -date. ‘Him name <i>Banks</i>,’ he added, ‘and great big Ju-ju. Nigger boy -say prayers to him ebry night!’”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="blockquot"> -<a name="BOY" id="BOY"> </a> -<p class="f120"><i>The Boy; His Hand and Pen</i></p> - -<p class="center space-above1 space-below1">BY TOM P. MORGAN</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">MY Aunt Almira, who is an old maid, says that spring is the -time when the young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love; but my Uncle -Bill, who has been a bachelor so long that it’s chronic with him, -says that ’most every spring he gets as bilious as a goat. That’s the -way it goes; women are romantic and are everlastingly thinking about -their hearts and souls, while men are generally more concerned about -their stomachs and pocketbooks. You give a man enough to eat and a few -dollars to squander and he’ll manage to scuffle along, but a woman -won’t be happy unless she’s worrying about love, or something.</p> - -<p>Uncle Bill once knew an old maid who lived in constant dread of finding -a man under the bed. She kept on hopefully fearing him for thirty-seven -years, and early in the thirty-eighth she was drowned. One time there -was a Brighamyoungamist who married twenty-three different women in -rapid succession, and he looked a good deal like the last end of a -hard winter, too. Well, the judge threw up his hands in astonishment, -and asked him how in all-git-out a man would go to work to marry -twenty-three women. And the Brighamyoungamist grinned and replied:</p> - -<p>“Aw—tee! hee!—Judge, I just asked ’em!”</p> - -<p>But, on the other hand, spring is the time when your neighbor -borrows your lawn-mower and keeps it till he is ready to borrow your -snow-shovel. In the spring all Nature seems to smile, especially in -the Third Reader, and the little flowers go gaily skipping over hill -and dale. The grass pops up, the boys begin fighting regularly, the -birds warble all the day long in the leafy boughs, and the book-agent -comes hurriedly up the road with a zealous but firm dog appended to his -pants. About this time you feel achy and itchy and stretchy and gappy, -and so forth, all of which is a sign that you’ve got the spring fever. -Some men have the spring fever all the year round. Then they join all -the lodges they can squeeze into, and owe everybody, and talk about the -workingman needing his beer on Sunday.</p> - -<p>This is all I know about spring, and most of it is what Uncle Bill told me.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> -<p class="f120"><i>Old Saws Filed New</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">“VICE is contagious”—and so few of us have been vaccinated!</p> - -<p>“A man must keep his mouth open a long time before a roast pigeon flies -into it”—but the chances are worse if he keeps it shut.</p> - -<p>“Associate with men of good judgment”—if their good judgment will permit.</p> - -<p>“Duty is a power which rises with us in the morning and goes to rest -with us in the evening”—or even earlier in the day. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="FORCE" id="FORCE"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The Force of Circumstance</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-above1 space-below1">BY CHAUNCEY C. HOTCHKISS</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">THEY came up to me, he and his daughter, as I was sitting on the -half-deserted piazza of the hotel. His soft felt hat had been replaced -by a tall one, and there was no suggestion of his former outing costume -in the stiff linen and conventionally cut clothing he wore. His -daughter stood by his side, her hand within his arm, a little impatient -pout on her lips and a petulant wrinkle on her fine brows, as fair a -specimen of the typical American girl, in beauty of face and form and -taste in dress, as one could find or wish for.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Alan, my boy!” said he heartily. “I’m off—quite suddenly. Some -plaguy business in town, you know. Sorry, but can’t help it! Wish you -were going along! Will be back tomorrow night—I think.” And here he -gave me a decided wink with the eye farthest from his daughter. The -girl twisted him about to see his face, as though suspicious of his honesty.</p> - -<p>“Why must you go, papa? And why won’t you take me? Aunt Margaret and -her rheumatism are poor company!”</p> - -<p>“No, no, little woman—not this time! Force of circumstances, you know. -Mustn’t leave your aunt alone—not for the world! Have many things to -see to in town. How’s your arm, Alan? Better? That’s good! There’s the -stage, by Jove! Keep her out of mischief, my boy. Kiss your dad, puss. -Good-bye, Alan!”</p> - -<p>As I looked at this fine specimen of metropolitan growth while he -clambered into the ramshackle stage that ran to the station, I felt -pretty sure that his conscience was not quite easy in thus hurrying to -town and leaving his daughter to her own devices. That the easy-going, -retired lawyer, whose hardest work consisted in killing time, had no -such pressing matters on hand as he had intimated, I was certain, and -had small doubt that visions of the stock-ticker, cool cocktails and -club cronies were the “plaguy business” which demanded his attention. -Nor did I blame him, for had it not been for the young girl who was now -looking blankly at the rapidly retreating vehicle my own place at the -table of the hotel would have been vacated days before.</p> - -<p>A broken arm just cut of its sling and still almost useless was -my ostensible reason for lingering. It served me as an excuse -for protracting the pleasures of the broad Sound and stunted but -picturesque woods, though it did not blind me to the fact that I was -playing with fire by remaining. I was not born with a great deal -of conceit and am too well acquainted with the times to have faith -in the infallibility of love as a leveling power when applied to -cash considerations. In finances the girl was an aristocrat and I a -plebeian. My meditations were to myself, but the young lady gave vent -to hers.</p> - -<p>“Very good, sir! I’ll pay you well for this,” she said, shaking her -finger in the direction of the vanished stage. “You wouldn’t take me -with you! Well, you’ll wish you had!” Then she turned to me. “Why did -he go, Mr. Alan?”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure I don’t know. Force of circumstances, he said.”</p> - -<p>“Force of fiddlesticks! He <i>always</i> gives that as an excuse when he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> -does anything I dislike. I don’t believe in the force of circumstances. -Do you?”</p> - -<p>“Most assuredly,” I returned.</p> - -<p>“Well, I don’t, then. I’m a free agent. You and papa might as well -confess to fatalism. I would like to see circumstances force me!”</p> - -<p>“I might weave a story showing the contrary. You have just seen——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that and your story would prove nothing,” she interrupted, with a -charming lack of logic. “A truce to nonsense—it’s too hot. Look at me, -sir!” she commanded, with mock severity. “Papa has practically thrown -me on your hands without regard to my opinion in the matter, as though -I were a small child. Aunt Margaret has a mild spell of rheumatism and -the religious mood that always seems to go with it. I understand that -you are responsible for me; how dare you assume the burden?”</p> - -<p>“I accept, however,” I replied, with secret warmth.</p> - -<p>“You will probably live to repent it. What shall we do?”</p> - -<p>“Anything you elect. I am under your orders.”</p> - -<p>“Then see that you obey them. The woods are too wet for a walk since -last night’s storm, and as for staying about here after being cooped up -two whole days by rain, it is intolerable. Let’s try to get Maxwell to -take us out on his fishing-sloop. He will do it for you.”</p> - -<p>“No,” I said firmly. “That is the one thing your father prohibits. -It is mere nervousness, of course, but I will not be a party to such -a thing. Think of something else—the force of circumstance is still -against you.”</p> - -<p>“Plague take the force of circumstance!” she exclaimed, but did not -urge me further, though my suspicions should have been aroused when she -said:</p> - -<p>“We will take lunch and go to the beach anyway. Shall we?”</p> - -<p>“Well, you might do that without breaking the fifth commandment,” -I returned, with much less enthusiasm than I felt at the idea of a -tête-à-tête picnic with her.</p> - -<p>Her answer was a light laugh. There was a swishing of skirts and a -twinkle of tan-colored shoes as she sped from the piazza to get ready, -leaving me with the certainty that I was a fool, or worse, for allowing -her to go unchaperoned, though I was too selfish to attempt to right -the neglect.</p> - -<p>Something over an hour later a scraggy horse hitched to a scraggy wagon -was drawing us to the “Cove,” a mile or so distant from the hotel. A -well-packed hamper had been provided and the pace set for the day was -nothing less innocent than lunch on the beach, which at this quarter -of Long Island is a stretch of snow-white sand and the perfection of -isolation.</p> - -<p>It was not with feelings of positive delight that, as we neared the -Sound, I noticed the <i>Flying Fish</i>, of which Maxwell was master, moored -at the edge of the expanse of blue water. From an artistic point it -might have satisfied me, as fine material for an <i>aquarelle</i> as, with -its mainsail loosely hoisted for drying, it lay against the strip of -woods on the other side of the little bay, but it did not satisfy me -to have a controversy on the point of taking my companion for a sail, -a thing to which I knew her father to be strongly opposed. However, it -was not a lengthy skirmish.</p> - -<p>“Will you ask Maxwell to take us out—for just an hour?” she asked -demurely.</p> - -<p>“Not for one instant,” I replied. “Besides, there is no wind.”</p> - -<p>“There will be wind enough; you are just determined to be meanly -perverse. <i>I</i> will ask him!” And she sent her clear voice across the -water in a long-drawn call.</p> - -<p>I saw the man on board look up from the work he was fussing over; -presently the sail was lowered and, shortly after, the punt drove its -nose into the sand of the beach and Maxwell came toward us.</p> - -<p>“Miss Edith,” I said, with dignity and as much severity as I dared show -her, “I am well aware that I have no right to dictate to you, but if -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> -you are determined to go sailing in spite of your father’s wishes you -will go without me.”</p> - -<p>“Do you really mean it?” she asked, with a light laugh and a wicked -glint in her eyes. “What a goose you are! Of course I wouldn’t go, but -we can compromise. Let’s go out to her and lunch on board. It will be -ever so much nicer than the sand, and I have never even stepped on -board of a sloop. Can’t we go out to her, Mr. Maxwell?”</p> - -<p>“Sartin, miss, but it’s lucky that’s all ye want,” said that worthy. -Then, turning to me, he continued:</p> - -<p>“The old tub’s ’most used up, Mr. Alan. She broke up a good deal of -her riggin’ in the storm last night. That ain’t all, neither. I find -the anchor shackle most rusted out and the moorin’ line ’most chafed -through. I was just startin’ for a new shackle. Tell you what ye might -do, sir, an’ ’twould be a big favor. Let me put you two aboard and then -take your hoss to go to the Centre with. That will suit the lady an’ be -a savin’ to my legs. I will be back in a shake.”</p> - -<p>“Where’s your deck-hand?” I asked, wavering in my determination.</p> - -<p>“Gone home sick, sir. Last night used him up.”</p> - -<p>Doubts of propriety and prudence were of little avail against the -coaxing demands of my companion. She was used to having her way in -most things. Nothing but the novelty of taking lunch on board the old -fishing-boat would satisfy her, and, as it would not do for me to carry -the air of protector too far, it was but a short time before we were -on the deck of the vessel, from which we watched Maxwell climb into -the wagon and start for the village. The lady’s expression was one of -subdued triumph.</p> - -<p>I confess that as I saw the little boat pulled high on the beach and -realized how completely we were cut off from the land, I was conscious -of a feeling that was not one of unalloyed content. From the physical -conditions there seemed to be nothing to fear. The water of the Cove -was like glass in the hot sunshine, and the vessel as steady as the -Rock of Ages; but the situation would certainly become compromising to -the fair young girl if our isolation should be generally known, and, -though I was willing enough to shoot at folly as it flew, I was in -hopes that the absence of Maxwell would not be prolonged, and so set to -work to entertain and enlighten Miss Edith, who was a very child in her -curiosity and her demands to have it satisfied.</p> - -<p>The <i>Flying Fish</i>, a fearful misnomer, was an old acquaintance of -mine, and was typical of her class. Clean enough on deck, she was an -abomination of vile smells below, the combination of fish, clams and -bilge-water making a forcible compound. The inevitable scuttle-butt -of fresh water stood before the mast, and forward was a mass of rusty -chain cable, tangled gear, mops, winch-handles, buckets and the anchor, -the latter secured with a piece of rope.</p> - -<p>In the stern of the boat the conditions were improved. The long tiller -projected into the roomy cockpit, the seats of which were as clean as -water could make them, while overhead the broken boom with its loose -sail made a wide strip of shade that was very acceptable.</p> - -<p>For me there was no novelty in the craft, but it was a monstrous toy -for my companion, who flitted from stem to stern, picking up her dainty -skirts as she explored the bow, or wrinkling her delicate nose as she -met the odor of the cabin she insisted on entering.</p> - -<p>“Does Maxwell cook on that thing?” asked the girl, pointing to the -small stove red with old rust, “and sleep in one of those dirty boxes?”</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly. That is a sailor’s lot.”</p> - -<p>“Horrors! I wouldn’t be a sailor for the world! Let’s get into the -air—I’m stifled!”</p> - -<p>An hour passed quickly enough and without the return of Maxwell. The -lunch was spread and eaten in the strip of shade, which took another -hour. A slight restraint followed the smoking of my cigar, for our -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> -conversation was becoming as circumscribed as our freedom, probably due -to the fact that we both began to realize we were prisoners. At best -there is no exhilaration of spirits to be found on the hot deck of a -dilapidated fishing-sloop at anchor, and I dreaded the dulness which -would ensue if our confinement became protracted beyond a certain point.</p> - -<p>But we were not destined to be beset by stupidity through lack -of events. Two hours, three hours passed and yet no Maxwell. The -conversation waned like a slowly dying blaze. I was becoming desperate -and Miss Edith was beginning to question me with her eyes, when I saw -matters were to be made worse by a thunderstorm which showed its black -head over the woods to the southwest. Was Maxwell crazy? What could -he be thinking of to leave us in this predicament? Again and again I -searched the opening into the woods through which the horse and wagon -had disappeared, but the shore remained as wild and deserted as when -Columbus discovered America. The little boat lay temptingly on the sand -five hundred feet away, but it might as well have been as many miles, -for my broken arm made swimming impossible.</p> - -<p>From being slightly compromising our situation had become fully so—and -more; it was irksome, awkward and not at all heroic. It was evident -from her manner that the girl was becoming fully alive to her position.</p> - -<p>Rapidly the clouds approached the zenith. They were terribly sinister, -and, though there appeared to be no more danger to us than the remote -chance of being struck by lightning, I dreaded for Miss Edith the -closer imprisonment in the unwholesome cabin and a probable drenching -in the end.</p> - -<p>Even should Maxwell now arrive it would be impossible to return to the -hotel before the storm broke, and as the sun became suddenly quenched -by the sulphur-colored mass that had risen to it, and a sickly green -shade settled over us, I turned my attention to cheering my companion, -who, awed by the tragic light that overspread us, seemed lost in -fearful contemplation of the approaching tempest, and sat silent in the -cockpit with both hands tightly clutching the tiller. The tide was full -flood and not a wrinkle marred the polished surface of the Sound. In -the distance were some motionless vessels taking in their lighter sails -and over all nature there brooded a portentous quiet.</p> - -<p>It was evident that we were about to experience something out of -the common, for though the edge of the squall had no more than the -usual threat of a summer shower, the clouds behind it sent through -me a thrill of awe mingled with fear. As I stood with my hands on -the shrouds watching a space of inky blackness it opened and from it -descended a bulb of vapor shaped like a bowl, its edges hidden in the -clouds above. It was a mass lighter than the rest, and it elongated -until its form changed to a funnel-shaped pipe which gradually neared -the surface of the earth, trailing as it moved along. Its approach was -accompanied with a roar as of a distant cataract, and as I saw the -sinuous tube lose itself in a mist of dust, flying branches and heavier -debris and appear to be coming toward us, a fearful knowledge of what -we were about to encounter burst upon my mind and I turned quickly to -the girl, who in her fright had risen to her feet.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” she cried, blanching at the sight of the awful column.</p> - -<p>“A tornado! Into the cabin, quick!” I shouted.</p> - -<p>She obeyed without a word, and I had barely time to snatch up the -basket containing the remains of our lunch and scramble through the -door after her when, with a howl it is impossible to describe, the -vortex of whirling air was upon us.</p> - -<p>The darkness that came down like a curtain was appalling; the din -deafening. The centre of the tornado must have missed us, else I -would not now be telling this tale, but the sight through the open -doors, which I had not had time to close, showed it had missed us but -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> -narrowly. I saw the surface of the Cove turn to milk under the lash -of the wind, but had scant time to see more, for, as we were lying -broadside to the blast, it struck us fairly on the side and careened us -until the deck stood wellnigh up and down.</p> - -<p>With a shriek the girl threw herself into my arms, and we both slid -to leeward. There came a jar as though we had been struck, a crash -overhead that sent the skylight shivering in fragments about us, a -quick blast of icy air, and the vessel righted with a jerk.</p> - -<p>Placing the fainting girl on a locker I ran up the steps to the deck. -The whirlwind was passing out into the Sound, its shape hidden by the -muck that flew in its wake, though a well-defined path of fallen trees -and boiling water marked its track. A moment’s observation showed its -outskirts had created havoc aboard the sloop.</p> - -<p>The mainsail, having been only held in stops, had been blown open by -the fearful power of the wind and, split into ribbons, was whipping in -the gale with quick, pistol-like reports. The boom-jack had been torn -away and the broken spar fallen on the cabin-house, which accounted -for the smashed skylight. The topsail had clean gone, hardly a rag -remaining. The buckets and all loose articles had been blown overboard; -the scuttle-butt had fetched away and lay bung down, its contents -gurgling out through the vent, while the only things outside the hull -that remained intact were the jib-sail and its gearing.</p> - -<p>I had hardly made the last observation when I discovered we were -adrift! The first fierce tug of the wind had snapped our moorings, -which Maxwell had spoken of as chafed, and, under the weight of the -gale which was blowing, we were rapidly drawing into open water.</p> - -<p>I caught my breath for a moment, but was immediately relieved as I -thought of the anchor. Throwing off my coat I tossed it into the cabin, -and, opening my pocket-knife, ran forward; but before I could reach -the bow I was drenched by a sudden downpour of rain the volume and icy -coldness of which made me gasp. It took but a second to cut the -lashings that held the anchor, but, as the iron plunged to the bottom -followed by only some half-fathom of chain, I nearly fainted. The -shackle lay at my feet with its pin gone. The anchor was lost—the -mooring parted; we were adrift in a storm and on a crippled boat.</p> - -<p>For a moment I was completely stunned at the realization and stood -looking over the side like a fool, as though expecting to see the mass -of lost iron float to the surface; but the violent beating of the rain, -now mixed with hail, forced sense into me and compelled a hasty retreat -to the cabin.</p> - -<p>So far as danger to life was concerned there was none at present, and -the one menace of the future lay in being blown across the Sound and -going to pieces on the rocky coast of Connecticut. I was something of a -fair-weather yachtsman and knew the danger of a lee shore; but whether -my wit would be sufficient to offset the predicament we were in I was -by no means sure. For a rescue I trusted more to being picked up by some -passing craft than to my own efforts. But what a situation for the lady!</p> - -<p>How to enlighten her as to our double disaster was troubling me not a -little as I entered the cabin, but I had barely cleared the steps when -we were beset by a volley of hail that thundered on the cabin-house and -rivaled the uproar of the tornado itself. Great icy lumps larger than -marbles drove through the broken skylight and bounded through the open -door. The hail was followed by another downpour of rain accompanied by -vivid lightning and bellowing thunder. Between the flashes the darkness -was that of midnight.</p> - -<p>Knowing the terror of my companion I attempted to speak to her, but my -voice was lost in the turmoil. Striking a match I lighted the small -lamp hanging against the bulkhead and found the girl had recovered from -her faint and was sitting on the locker with her face buried in her -hands. At that moment the sky lightened a trifle and the thunder rolled -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> -more at a distance. Shaken as I was, I little wondered at the -convulsive shudders that swept over her slight frame; had I been alone -I might have succumbed to panic. Presently she looked up at me; her -face was like chalk, but I was thankful to see that she had not lost -control of herself.</p> - -<p>“Oh, wasn’t it awful!” she exclaimed, and was about to rise when she -caught sight of my streaming clothing. “Why did you go out? What have -you been doing? Have you seen Maxwell?”</p> - -<p>“Maxwell? No, but I have seen enough else,” I returned, determined to -hide nothing.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean? What has happened?”</p> - -<p>“I mean that we have met with disaster. We are adrift.”</p> - -<p>“Adrift!” Her eyes widened with sudden terror.</p> - -<p>“We have been torn from our moorings,” I answered, with an attempt at -ease that I might not increase her panic. “But there is no present danger.”</p> - -<p>“I—I do not understand,” she said weakly.</p> - -<p>“I have made a mistake, which makes it worse,” I continued desperately. -“I have cut away the anchor but lost it—the shackle-pin was gone. We must——”</p> - -<p>“But you <i>knew</i> the shackle-pin—or something—was gone! I heard -Maxwell tell you!” she interrupted, with a flash of temper in her eye -that took the place of fear.</p> - -<p>“I remembered when too late,” I returned meekly. “In the confusion -it went from my mind. When I found we had broken from the mooring I -naturally turned to the anchor and cut it free. Will you—can you -forgive me? I will make what reparation I may.”</p> - -<p>For an answer she dropped limply on the locker, and, again burying her -face in her hands, sobbed violently while I stood silent, not knowing -how to comfort her, though my brain was busy enough. Presently the -paroxysm passed and she looked up with a changed expression; then, -heedless of her dainty costume, she approached me and placed both hands -on my wringing sleeve.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it is for you to forgive me!” she said, the tears still in her -eyes. “It is all my fault! If I had only heeded you in the beginning! -And I am such a cowardly girl; but I’ll try to be brave and not make it -worse. What must we do?” And a divine smile brightened her woebegone face.</p> - -<p>“I will tell you all I fear,” I said, mightily relieved at her changed -attitude. “With the wind from its present quarter it is impossible to -return to the Cove, and to continue drifting is dangerous. Stratford -Shoal lies directly in our way, and unless some other direction can be -given the vessel we are certain to be wrecked upon it. Listen quietly,” -I added, as I saw fright come again to her eyes. “I think I can avert -that danger. It may appear strange and hard to you, but it is necessary -that we run <i>from</i> home instead of toward it. Will you trust me -entirely?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes! I must—I will.”</p> - -<p>“Then excuse me for a time; I have work to do.”</p> - -<p>“And am I to sit still and do nothing?”</p> - -<p>“You may make a fire, if you will; we will need it. This may be an -all-night matter.”</p> - -<p>She shrank visibly, but made no reply, and, not daring to lose more -time, I abruptly left her.</p> - -<p>All I had told her was true. The afternoon had waned and the storm -would cause the September day to darken early. The gale, yet strong -from the southwest, was carrying us with considerable rapidity toward -the well-known shoal that lies in the centre of the Sound—a line of -black teeth marked by a lighthouse, and a deadly thing to have close -to leeward. There was but one action for me to take, and that to set -the jib and under this single sail run to the eastward until we had the -fortune to be picked up by some passing craft. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> - -<p>By this we had drawn so far into open water that the seas, which were -rapidly rising, had a jump to them, making it a matter of some risk for -me to crawl out on the foot-ropes of the bowsprit and throw off the -ropes that confined the jib; for it must be remembered that my left -arm was almost useless. It was an infinite labor for me to get the wet -canvas aloft, but I finally set the sail after a fashion. Loosening the -sheet until the great spread of cotton blew out like a balloon, I took -the tiller and put the helm hard a-port.</p> - -<p>There was life in the old tub at once. She had been wallowing heavily -in the trough of the sea, but now we ran across the waves, and the -change of motion was a relief. The rain had ceased by this time, but -the sky was of an even blackness or the color of the smoke now pouring -from the funnel of the cabin stove. As the gloom of evening fell the -shore lights twinkled coldly across the water. No vessel came near -enough to be hailed, and, as there is nothing distinctively distressing -in the appearance of a fishing-smack running before the wind under her -jib, I saw it would be foolish to expect a rescue before daylight, save -by the merest chance of being passed close at hand.</p> - -<p>The gale was decreasing rapidly, but it was getting cold—bitter cold -to me in my wet state. Not daring to leave the helm I called to Miss -Edith to hand up my coat, but she appeared on deck with it. Her face -was hot and flushed, her head bare, and the wind caught her disordered -hair and blew it about her eyes.</p> - -<p>“Why, you poor fellow!” she exclaimed as the cold air struck her. “You -must not do this! Let me take your place while you go down and get warm -and dry.”</p> - -<p>“You are a ministering angel,” I returned through my chattering teeth, -“but unfortunately you can’t steer. However, if you will watch here -I will go down and wring myself out. I can lash the tiller. Do you -realize our situation?”</p> - -<p>“I—I believe so,” she faltered. “I did not even tell Aunt Margaret we -were going anywhere. It is too awful to think of—I dare not think—I -try not to. This is——”</p> - -<p>“The force of circumstance,” I interrupted, with an attempt at levity -as I proceeded to fasten the helm. “A force you denied only a few hours ago.”</p> - -<p>“And do now!” she said, with some spirit, catching back her blowing -hair with her hand. “It was the desire to make you do something against -your will. It was pure foolishness. Don’t argue now. Do something for -yourself; you will find that I have been neither idle nor useless.”</p> - -<p>I was surprised at the change she had wrought in the cabin. On a -locker was spread the remains of our lunch; the bunks had been put in -some kind of order, the floor wiped up, and the indefinable air of -femininity she had given to the dingy hole was accentuated by the gay -color of her little hat, which hung against the blackened bulkhead. -Rank as it was, the warm atmosphere was a welcome change from that -of the deck, and through it floated the odor of coffee. A pot was -simmering on the stove, the grate of which was all aglow.</p> - -<p>While wondering how she had brought herself to forage through the -repulsive mess below and where she had obtained fresh water, I emptied -two cups of the scalding beverage and, after stripping myself of my wet -clothing, was in a mood to have enjoyed the adventure had it not been -for my anxiety for the future. By overhauling a bunk I found an old -pair of trousers and an oil-coat, both smelling villainously of fish, -and putting them on, wrapped a grimy blanket about me and returned to -the deck.</p> - -<p>Even during my short absence the wind had fallen decidedly, but the -young lady was shivering in her summer dress as she sat looking -over the blank water at the distant shore, and I could see that the -loneliness filled her with an awe I well understood. She laughed a -little as she noticed the figure I cut, but her chattering teeth belied -her forced spirits. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You are freezing, Miss Edith. Go down and drink a cup of your own -coffee. Where did you get fresh water? The scuttle-butt was wrecked -with the rest.”</p> - -<p>“I melted hail-stones—there were plenty of them. Don’t you see I am -superior to mere circumstance? You must go down, too; you must rest and -keep warm.”</p> - -<p>“I must do my resting here,” I replied, cutting the helm lashing.</p> - -<p>“What! All night?”</p> - -<p>I laughed at her simplicity. “I could not guarantee you a -tomorrow—certainly not a rescue, if I stayed in the cabin.”</p> - -<p>“Then I will watch, too.”</p> - -<p>“It is far too cold—and—and I am afraid you are forgetting the -proprieties,” I answered lightly. “I have much to think about.”</p> - -<p>I believe she suspected what was in my mind, for she asked soberly:</p> - -<p>“Were—were you referring to—to me?”</p> - -<p>“Could it be otherwise? And I was thinking of poor Maxwell and his -probable loss,” I answered, in an attempt to shift the subject I was -not yet ready to discuss.</p> - -<p>She drew herself up with sudden hauteur. “Mr. Maxwell’s loss—probable -or otherwise—shall be made more than good to him. As for me, I am -still above the circumstance that has brought us to this state,” she -answered, and, turning quickly, went below.</p> - -<p>It was a rebuke, and I saw that I might better have taken her into my -confidence then and there, for Maxwell’s loss had had little weight -with me. It was her loss and possibly my own. Though her position in -society was too well assured for her to suffer in character through -an adventure of the sort we were experiencing, there would be many -who would talk behind their hands. When the facts were known—as they -were bound to be—advantage would be taken of the opportunity to cast -reflections and give the smile incredulous to any explanation. A young -man and a young woman adrift for an indefinite number of hours in the -night after having deliberately cut off communication with the shore -would be a tempting morsel for scandalmongers. And what then?</p> - -<p>It was just that “what,” and another, which were bothering me. My -love for the girl was as pure as man’s love could be, yet after this -what could I be to her? Must I cease to be even a friend? Was I to be -sacrificed on the altar of circumstance, the force of which I asserted -as strongly as she denied? I sat at the helm and turned my thoughts -inward until the stars came out from behind the scattering clouds, and -the wind, grown colder, fell to a force that barely filled the jib. I -looked at my watch—it was past eleven. I was becoming faint for want of food, -and, as the wind was now harmless, I dropped the helm and went below.</p> - -<p>The fire was almost out and the oil in the lamp so low that it added -another smell to the cabin. The girl lay on the hard locker fast -asleep, and I could see that she had been weeping. For a time I gazed -at her eagerly, then taking some food with me, stole back to my dreary -watch. As the hours waned so did my spirits. I may have dozed, but -about two o’clock the girl’s ghostly white dress appeared in the -companionway and she stepped out on deck. She looked around at the -darkness for a moment, then came and seated herself by my side.</p> - -<p>“You have had an uncomfortable nap, I fear,” I said as I saw her -dispirited face.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” wearily, “but how did you know?”</p> - -<p>“I went below and saw you. I am very sorry for you, Miss Edith.”</p> - -<p>“You saw I had been crying. I am more than sorry to have exposed my -weakness to you. I was lonely and—and you did not wish me here. Is it -so very wrong?”</p> - -<p>“I was only thinking of your comfort.”</p> - -<p>“Did you imagine it greater down there? And you said you were thinking -of the proprieties and—and Maxwell.”</p> - -<p>“Of Maxwell—incidentally only.” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> - -<p>She made no answer to this. I had hoped she would, for now I was as -ready to talk of our peculiar situation as before I had been unwilling. -But the small hours of the morning are not conducive to discussion. -The girl was fagged out and silent in consequence. Once or twice she -nodded, but refused to go below, though I urged her to get out of the -cold. I finally prevailed on her to put on my coat, and then we sat in -silence. But Nature asserted herself at last, and she unconsciously but -gradually drooped toward me until her head touched my shoulder, and -there it settled. I brought half of the blanket about her and passed my -arm around her waist that she might not pitch forward to the deck.</p> - -<p>And in this fashion we remained, I with the tiller in the hollow of -my left arm, and she in a heavy slumber, her face close to mine. I -sat thus, immovable, until I was as sore and uncomfortable as though -in bonds, but I may as well confess that I felt repaid for all I had -undergone and was then undergoing through my self-enforced rigidity. -I lost all sense of drowsiness and was never more wide awake in my -life than when I determined to take advantage of the cursed force of -circumstance and keep her by me as a right. I would use the argument -placed in my power, which argument was the force of circumstance -itself. I had been a coward long enough.</p> - -<p>The time went easily. The girl slept as quietly as a child, oblivious -of all the world. My own mind undoubtedly strayed from purely practical -matters, but I was suddenly brought to my senses by the sight of a -red and a green light, topped by a white one, bearing directly down -upon us. The vessel with the night signals was almost into us before I -realized its approach. If the pilot of the oncoming tug—for as such I -recognized her—had been no more attentive than I, we should be a wreck -in less than thirty seconds, and with no blame to him, as we carried no -light. Rudely awakening the girl I put the helm up and shouted with all -my power.</p> - -<p>The black mass forged on until within two lengths of us. I heard the -powerful throbbing of her engine, the tearing hiss and splash from her -cut-water, and the churning of the propeller. In an instant more I -would hear the crashing of timbers, but as I strained my eyes on the -oncoming boat and threw my arm around the girl, ready for the worst, I -saw the shadow of a man as he ran from the engine-room to the wheel, -and then the tug suddenly swerved and passed us so close that I could -have touched her rail! In an instant she had slid by and then I leaped -up and shouted like one possessed:</p> - -<p>“Come to! Come to, for God’s sake! We are in distress!”</p> - -<p>There was a hoarse answer and the vessel sank into the darkness. I -thought we were to be abandoned and for an instant felt all the deep -hopelessness of a shipwrecked mariner in mid-ocean as he marks the loss -of a possible rescue. But presently I saw the green starboard light -reappear and knew, when the red light joined it, they were working to -return to us. There was the clang of a gong, a quick churning of the -reversed wheel, and the tug slowed up close at hand, keeping way gently -until it bumped against the sloop and a man leaped from its deck to ours.</p> - -<p>“What’s the row here?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“We are crippled and adrift,” I answered. “I am no sailor, and there is -a lady aboard.”</p> - -<p>The girl stood at my side as the man listened to my story, the -lividness of dawn in the east just touching his coarse face. His little -eyes shifted from her to me incessantly, and when I had finished he -gave an irritating laugh, for which I could have knocked him down with -a good grace.</p> - -<p>“Blowed away, hey!” he said, expectorating over the rail and wiping -his mouth with the back of his hand. “D’ye mean ye hadn’t sense enough -to know when a cable’s bent an’ when it’s <i>on</i>bent? Wall, ’tain’t no -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> -business o’ mine. Want to get aboard o’ us, hey? Yer green, fer a fact, -an’ I’ll be frank with ye. If ye leaves the sloop she’ll be derelict, -an’ I can pull her in an’ claim salvage. That’s the law. Course I’ll -take ye aboard if ye want, but ye had better bide here an’ give me a -hundred dollars fer a tow to New Haven. I got a date there an’ can’t do -better fer ye.”</p> - -<p>“Where are we now?” I asked.</p> - -<p>“Sum’ers off the Thimbles.”</p> - -<p>I well knew that I was being taken advantage of, but a slight pressure -on my arm from the hand of Miss Edith told me it was no time for -bargaining, so, after a deal of backing and going ahead, we found -ourselves under way behind the tug, I still at the helm to prove that -the sloop had not been deserted.</p> - -<p>Safe thus far I felt relieved, but, the first difficulty passed, the -remaining and greater phase of the situation reasserted itself. For -a long time neither the girl nor I spoke, and I fancied her face was -more deeply anxious in its expression than I had yet seen it. The light -broadened; the shore showed faintly against a clear sky, and the stars -grew pale and disappeared. Probably two hours more would get us into -harbor, and the subject of our adventure and our probable reception -home, even a plan for future movements, had not been touched upon. -Something must be said, but in my intense interest my brain went all -adrift and my intended delicacy was lost in my first blundering speech.</p> - -<p>“You are looking tired, Miss Edith, but your last sleep was more -restful than your first.”</p> - -<p>It was man-like stupidity. Her face flushed hotly as she turned it -away, but presently she looked at me and said:</p> - -<p>“It has all been like a terrible dream, now that we are out of danger. -It seems days since we left the hotel, and—and—oh! what will papa -say—and Aunt Margaret? What will people think?” And she covered her -face with her hands.</p> - -<p>“The last is not a knotty problem,” I replied gently, though I could -not spare her distress. “We will not be overburdened with Christ-like -charity, and the result may be hard for you to bear.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” she asked, dropping her hands.</p> - -<p>“Do you not see?” said I, as with my heart beating rapidly I went -boldly to meet my fate. “Do you know so little of the world—of the -venom of it? We have done an innocent thing, but, forgive me, will -people believe it? Your father will be fiercely angry, society will be -skeptical, and—and I would protect you from all scandal; I would bear -your father’s anger for you.”</p> - -<p>She was rosy now and her lips were half apart, but she did not answer.</p> - -<p>“I know I am taking an undue advantage by making such a proposal here, -but it is the old force of circumstances which permits me. There is but -one way, Edith. Give me the right I would have—the right to protect -you! Does not your heart understand my meaning? We could then face the -world together and not care. No, that is not all,” I continued as I saw -she was about to speak. “God knows that affection lacks proper words -to express it! I have been so fearful—that is why I have been dumb so -long! To me the gale has been a godsend, not a misfortune. Edith, must -I be wrecked at last?”</p> - -<p>She had turned away her face, but now she looked at me, not in anger -nor amazement. As she fixed her beautiful eyes on mine I saw the tears -come into them and overflow, but she made no answer.</p> - -<p>“Have I hurt you?” I cried.</p> - -<p>“You are generous,” she said; “but are you honest now? Are you sure -you wish this? Is it me you really want? You are a man and will not be -blamed—and I—well, I can live it down. The fault was mine, not yours. -Perhaps you will regret; perhaps it is because you are sorry for me -that you offer me your—your protection. Oh! be sure—be sure!” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> - -<p>I do not remember what I said or did then, but I know I had a ready -answer for this and urged it so vehemently, becoming oblivious to all -else, that the sloop yawed widely and I was called to earth by a shout -from the tug to the effect that I had better “mind my eye” and see what -in the devil I was about.</p> - -<p>It was a strange wooing. Five o’clock in the morning is not a usual -hour for inspiration, yet I was never more eloquent. Nor were the chief -elements of the little drama picturesque—a woebegone and very much -mussed-up young lady with unkempt hair, her figure lost in the folds of -a dirty blanket, and a man with the appearance of having been hurriedly -starched and rough-dried. But there was a new pink in the cheeks of the -one and a new light in the eyes of the other, as Edith, without a word -in answer to my pleading, simply placed her soft hand in mine for a -moment, then brushing away her tears, ran below.</p> - -<p>To the casual observer on the streets of New Haven no doubt we looked -somewhat time-worn, but this was partly mended by the milliner and the -tailor. I was still as idiotic as a man is likely to be after a heavy -stroke of good fortune, and it was when sitting in the hotel where I -had just penned the last of a number of telegrams that I turned to the -girl for my final triumph.</p> - -<p>“Edith, it was only yesterday morning that you scoffed at the force of -circumstance and I hinted at a tale I could write that would convince -you. But I need not use invention—we have acted a story ourselves. You -have been forced to capitulate. Was I not right?”</p> - -<p>“No, dear,” she returned softly. “My answer would have been the same -had you asked me long ago.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="f120"><i>Before and After</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">WANDERING WILLIE—Why wudn’t yer wanter be a millionaire, pard?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Weary Raggles</span>—What’s de diff’rence? Dose fellers git de -dyspepsie an’ hev de distressed feelin’ arter eatin’, ’stead of afore, dat’s all.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="f120"><i>Declined</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">TED—It was a case of love at first sight with him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ned</span>—How was it with the girl?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ted</span>—From the answer she gave him she -must have had second sight.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="f120"><i>A Terrible Example</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">LATSON—He used to be a newsboy, and now he is in the legislature.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Codwell</span>—That’s just what you might expect shooting craps -would lead to.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="drop-cap">EVERYBODY tells you not to worry. The point is: how not to worry. -Worry is discontent swathed with timidity. Be brave in your worries by making -them protests. At least it helps your circulation. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="IDEAL" id="IDEAL"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>An Ideal Cruise in an Ideal Craft</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-above1 space-below1">BY WALLACE IRWIN</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="bigfont">I</span>T were the good ship <i>Gentle Jane</i><br /></span> -<span class="i4">On which we et and slept,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The tightest, safest little craft<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As ever sailed, except—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her cargo it wuz gasolene<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And pitch-wood kindling light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And powder fine and turpentine<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And tar and dynamite.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our crew wuz tried and trusty men<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As ever sailed the wet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so I had full confidence<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In their discretion, yet—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The cook <i>would</i> dump hot, glowin’ coals<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In that there gasolene,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And them there tars <i>would</i> smoke cigars<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the powder magazine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Oh, Cap,” I sez to Capting White<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With reverent respect,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Now couldn’t we in trifles be<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A bit more circumspect?”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Well I’ll be blowed!” the Capting sez<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To pass the matter by.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Unless I’m wrong ere very long<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We’ll all be blowed,” sez I.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And as I croke this little joke<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sea got very rough,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gong went clang! the hull went bang!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our gallant ship went puff!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A cloud o’ smoke with us on top<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A million fathoms lept—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet in that muss not one of us<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Wuz scratched or hurt, except—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our gallant Capting lost his head.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our Mate his limbs and breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The soup wuz spilled, our crew wuz killed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our cook wuz scared to death.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So often in the stilly night<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I long with fond regret<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To sail again the <i>Gentle Jane</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon the sea, and yet—<br /> - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="MAXWELL" id="MAXWELL"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The Heritage of Maxwell Fair</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-above1 space-below2">BY VINCENT HARPER</p> - -<h3>CHAPTER I</h3> - -<p class="drop-cap">WITH the smoking pistol still in his hand he stepped over the -prostrate man and, grasping Mrs. Fair’s bare shoulder, shook her until she looked up.</p> - -<p>“Quick! For God’s sake, Janet, get to your room!” he said, trying to -make her comprehend what he meant, but she only stared at him vacantly, -her white face filled with terror and her eyes fixed on the form on the -floor—that of a man in evening dress, across whose wide shirt front a -streak of blood was widening.</p> - -<p>“Why did he come here?” she asked, hiding the sickening sight with her -hands before her eyes. “He swore he would not. This is horrible!”</p> - -<p>“Come, Janet, come,” remonstrated Fair, seizing her again. “It’s past -seven, and they will be here presently. My God, can’t you see what this -means? He’s dead!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t, don’t,” she cried, shuddering as if the truth burned her -brain. “Ugh! See!” she gasped as she caught sight of a splash of red on -her gown.</p> - -<p>“Yes, and you stand here! Are you mad?” muttered Fair, pushing her to -the door. “Go, now, and change—and be careful what you do with that -dress. Hark! There’s the bell now. Remember, until they go, you must -betray no feeling. Are you great enough to do this? You won’t fail me?”</p> - -<p>“Anything, Maxwell, for your sake—but you—what will you do -with—<i>that</i>?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at the thing as if -it fascinated her.</p> - -<p>“Leave everything to me,” he answered, pulling her chin around so that -she could not see. “I assume all. Remember, girl, it was I, do you -understand? Go!”</p> - -<p>When he had finally closed the door upon her, he gave way to his -agony—but only for a moment. With a quietness and rapidity that seemed -to astonish even himself he placed the pistol upon the library-table, -locked both of the doors, drew the heavy red velvet curtains across the -window and, bending over the fallen man, critically examined him.</p> - -<p>Satisfied that life was extinct, he pulled the body over to the -fireplace, beside which, at right angles to the side of the room, there -stood a large Italian chest with a very high carved back. Into this -chest Fair lifted the limp body of the man and thoughtfully placed a -number of heavy books and magazines upon it. Then carefully glancing -about the room and noticing no evidences of the crime, he sat down, -wiped his brow, and closing his eyes, tried to let the stupendous facts -of the last five minutes become realities to his mind—to formulate -some practical line of action in the future which those five minutes -had so fatally revolutionized.</p> - -<p>The way that he started at a respectful tap at the library door showed -him what a terribly changed man he already was, and it was with a -petulant, unnatural voice that he shouted: “Well? That you, Baxter?”</p> - -<p>“A man, sir, who insists upon seeing you, sir,” answered Baxter, Fair’s -old butler, whom he had inherited with the estates and furniture, felt -grateful to as a faithful servant, and tolerated as an incompetent old bore. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Tell him to go to the devil, with my compliments, and to come to my -office if he really has business with me!” thundered Fair, not at all -like himself.</p> - -<p>Baxter shook his head as he said: “Very good, sir,” and toddled -downstairs, putting two and two together as servants will in the best -regulated families.</p> - -<p>The furniture seemed to be all out of place, so Fair pulled it this -way and that, but wherever he placed it, it still seemed, to his mind, -to show that a scuffle had taken place. After abandoning the idea of -getting it to look right, he devoted his anxious attention to his own -appearance, which, although his faultless evening attire was immaculate -and his thin, brown hair, with a touch of gray, was smooth and precise, -seemed to him to betray the fact that he had passed through a scene of -some sort. Giving up the effort to discover just what was wrong, he -unlocked the doors, drew his chair to the table and toyed with a pen -and some sheets of paper on which he began several times to write.</p> - -<p>“Maxwell Fair, old chap,” he said to himself, looking up at the -ceiling, “this is pretty well near the end—but it’s all in the day’s work.”</p> - -<p>Then he dashed off two telegrams and rang the bell, which Baxter -promptly answered, having been standing at the door. “Did you ring, -sir?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Fair. “Here, see that these two telegrams are sent -immediately—but wait. Baxter, a gentleman called about twenty minutes -ago. Did you let him in?”</p> - -<p>He watched the old man’s face closely as he replied: “Yes, sir. A dark, -foreign-looking gentleman, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” went on Fair, picking up the evening paper carelessly and -speaking with great indifference; “he is in my study. Just fetch his -coat and hat here, will you? And, by the way, did any of the other -servants see him?”</p> - -<p>“The gentleman said he was an old friend of my lady’s—and none of the -other servants saw him, sir. Aren’t you well, sir? I hope that nothing -has occurred, sir,” answered Baxter, with an old servant’s liberty.</p> - -<p>“No,” snapped Fair, with irritation, but going on more in his usual -way. “Now look sharp and fetch the gentleman’s coat. A very old friend -of Mrs. Fair’s. What was the other chap like—the one who wished to see me?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, him, sir,” replied Baxter, with a servant’s contempt for callers -of his own class in society, “he were a quiet-spoken, ordinary sort of -party, sir, as said he come from Scotland Yard.”</p> - -<p>Fair was too well in hand by this time to wince as he heard this bit -of disturbing coincidence, but he said to himself: “My word, they are -prompt—but, damn it, they can’t have known!” Then, happening to look -up and seeing the old butler, “What are you waiting for?”</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon, sir,” gently began Baxter, shuffling nearer to -Fair, “but, Mr. Fair, sir—Master Maxwell—you’ll forgive an old -servant that served your father and grandfather before you, sir. There -ain’t no trouble like, or anythink a-hangin’ over us, is there, sir? -One of the parlormaids thought that she heard a shot, sir—and——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” quickly responded Fair, with a laugh, “I was cleaning this -old pistol and it went off. Get on now. Trouble? Why, look at me, Baxter. -I’m the luckiest dog in the world. I have just made another fortune.”</p> - -<p>“Thank God for that, sir,” quietly replied old Baxter, moving toward -the door, at which he turned and said, “The gentleman will be dining, -of course?”</p> - -<p>“No, he can’t stop. In fact, he wishes to leave the house unobserved -by our guests when we are at dinner—so fetch his hat and coat,” said -Fair, again settling down to his evening paper.</p> - -<p>“I was forgetting, sir,” once more the querulous old voice began, “that -Miss Mettleby said that the children are coming to say good night——”</p> - -<p>“The children?” exclaimed Fair, caught off his guard. “No—good God, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> -no!—that is, I mean I shall be engaged. Tell Miss Mettleby so. Be off.”</p> - -<p>With suspicions now thoroughly aroused and full of misgivings Baxter -did as he was bid, and his master jerked the paper open again and slapped -at the crease to make the sheet flat. But his eyes wandered aimlessly.</p> - -<p>“The children—gad! I had forgotten them,” he muttered as he thought -with horror what this all meant to them. Time after time he tried to -read the leading article which was about his own brilliant achievement, -but with a mad spasm he crumpled the newspaper into a ball and flung it -across the great room, exclaiming, “Why didn’t the infernal blackguard -know when he was well off?”</p> - -<p>“The gentleman’s coat and hat, sir,” said Baxter, coming in annoyingly.</p> - -<p>“Very well—now go,” retorted Fair peevishly. “Ask Mr. Travers to come -up here the moment he arrives. Here, here—you are forgetting the -telegrams. You seem to forget everything lately. You are too careless.”</p> - -<p>“So I am, so I am,” quavered the poor old beggar, with tears in his -voice. “I shall soon be of very little service, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense,” answered Fair, touched by the old fellow’s feeling. “You -have twenty years of good work before you. But, I say, Baxter, I forgot -to tell you—we are leaving town tomorrow morning. Discharge all of the -servants tonight. Hear me? All of them—tonight.”</p> - -<p>“Tonight, sir?” exclaimed Baxter, dropping his little silver card-tray. -“They will be expecting a month’s notice, sir.”</p> - -<p>“That means a month’s pay, I suppose,” answered Fair sharply. “Give -them a year’s pay, if you like—but get them out of the house tomorrow -morning before nine o’clock. You see, I have sold the house, and the -new owner takes possession at ten. You understand me? We shall, of -course, take you and Anita with us—to the continent, you know.”</p> - -<p>“I hear, sir,” replied Baxter, adding, after a dazed and groping moment, -“some of them have been in our family’s service for twenty years. That -is a long time, sir, and they will think it hard to be——”</p> - -<p>“By Jove, that’s so!” exclaimed Fair, pacing up and down with a growing -sense of disgust and rage at having to cramp his future into the -ignominious bondage of a desperate situation. “No, I can’t turn them -away. Tell them that I shall instruct my solicitor to provide for them -for life—yes, tell them that. Come here, Baxter,” he went on, rapidly -losing control of himself and pathetically stretching his hands out as -if to grasp the love and sympathy of someone; “I haven’t been a hard -master, have I? No. And when the end comes, you won’t turn against me? -I—I—I—oh, damn it, clear out of here, won’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Why, my dear young master, whatever ails you, sir?” cried the old -butler, grasping the hand that Fair waved to him. “If you did but know -how we all love you, sir, perhaps you would——”</p> - -<p>“Do you? Do you?” broke in Fair feverishly. “That’s right, too. But, -Baxter, things have gone wrong, and in a few hours I may need all the -love that you or anybody else will give me. Get out of here, can’t you?”</p> - -<p>Baxter threw his arms about the young man’s neck. “Come what may, sir, -there shall not be found a better friend than your poor old servant.” -And then, holding the lapels of Fair’s coat, he added, with much -embarrassment and tenderness, “And, sir, if I might make so bold—I -have close on a thousand pounds in the funds, and every penny——”</p> - -<p>“Every penny is mine, you were going to say?” interrupted Fair, -smiling even in his despair at the old man’s estimate of his needs. -“Thanks, thanks, old comrade; but no amount of money can stave off -the blue devils at times, you know. You knew my fathers, Baxter. They -were a race of damned fools who were ready at a moment’s notice to -lose everything for an idea! I am their son—I am their heir—and the -damnedest fool of the lot.” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> - -<p>As he said this Fair raised his head with a look so defiant, so full -of an almost supernatural exaltation, so nearly that which shines in -the eye of the victim of a fixed idea or of a fatal hallucination that -Baxter, who was not expert at psychological analysis, felt a vague -misgiving that his eccentric young master had suddenly gone off his -head.</p> - -<p>And one more penetrating than old Baxter would have been amazed at the -change which had come over the expression of the agitated man. The look -of horror and disgust and consternation was gone, and in its place had -come the fire of enthusiasm, the sublime uplift of the martyr, the terrifying -concentration of some irrational, uncalculating, final <i>idée fixe</i>.</p> - -<p>“See who that is,” he said to the butler when a knock was heard.</p> - -<p>“It is Miss Mettleby, sir,” replied Baxter from the door.</p> - -<p>“Oh, come in, come in,” called out Fair with unaccountable eagerness.</p> - -<h3>CHAPTER II</h3> - -<p>The girl who entered as he spoke had come into Mrs. Fair’s employ as a -governess from a Somersetshire parsonage. She was tall, carried herself -with the unconscious ease of one who, with a nature susceptible of the -deepest emotion and broadest culture, has grown up in the open and in -ignorance of the world, and at eight-and-twenty had settled down to the -monotony and hopelessness of a life of thankless dependence.</p> - -<p>From the moment of coming into the family of the famous financier Kate -Mettleby had felt, as who had not, the subtle charm of his personality; -yet with her it was not a natural appreciation of a character at -once brilliant and winsome, but rather a sort of terrifying though -exquisitely pleasurable sense of oneness with the man. Hers was a -mind far too devoid of precedents and mental experience to be capable -or even desirous of analyzing the feeling which she was aware she -entertained for the calm, strong, self-reliant father of the -children whom she was to teach. She knew only that Maxwell Fair was -different—oh, so different—from all other men, and that, without the -faintest shadow of love for him—which her simple, country mind would -have thought sinful and degrading—he, or that mystical something that -he stood for in her mind, had made forever impossible all thought of -ever loving another.</p> - -<p>Had she been asked to name the reason for so abnormal and morbid a -fancy, she would have been utterly powerless to do so. Maxwell Fair -was as much of a puzzle to her as he was to everybody, both in society -and in the city. This man, whose name was now in everybody’s mouth as -the most daring and successful operator on ’Change, had come to London -less than five years before with nothing, so far as was known, but the -entailed and heavily burdened estates in Norfolk which he had inherited -from his father, who, old men declared, had been little short of a madman.</p> - -<p>By a series of dashing ventures in mining stocks Fair had attracted -attention, and, what was more to the purpose, accumulated enough ready -cash to enable him to avail himself of the situation then confronting -the speculative world. At the very top of the Kaffir and other South -African securities boom, when men were buying with an eagerness and -recklessness amounting to frenzy, Fair was quietly selling, so that -when the crash came and the breaking out of the Boer War knocked the -bottom out of values, he had the satisfaction of buying back at panic -prices the very shares which he had prudently disposed of at absurdly -exaggerated prices some time before.</p> - -<p>Establishing his family in the mansion which he had bought in the -princely Carlton House Terrace, Fair rapidly became as fascinating -and puzzling in society as he had proved Napoleonic and baffling in -Throgmorton street, where was his office. Women found him quaintly and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> -refreshingly chivalrous and almost annoyingly happy as a -conversationalist, while men who sought his acquaintance with an eye to -business connections—and were disappointed—discovered that the chap -from whom they had hoped to learn the secrets of success was a fellow -of infinite jest, a capital <i>raconteur</i> and a frank, generous, genial -companion withal.</p> - -<p>Such was Maxwell Fair when once more the newspapers announced that he -had disposed of the celebrated Empire Mines stock which he had picked -up—after a personal inspection of the property in Mexico—when nobody -else would touch it, at the staggering figure of over ten times what -he had paid for the shares, netting by the transaction close upon two -hundred thousand pounds.</p> - -<p>At innumerable dinner-tables at that moment he was being discussed, -envied and lauded to the skies—and he himself sat with flushed, -nervous face awaiting guests, and now bidding the strangest woman whom -he had ever met enter with some message from the nursery.</p> - -<p>“The children are ready for bed, Mr. Fair,” said Miss Mettleby, -standing in that humble posture which he had begged her never to -assume, because it somehow irritated him very much. “Are they to come -down to say good night? Or shall you come up?”</p> - -<p>“That will do, Baxter,” said Fair, noticing that the old butler still -puttered about the room as if intending to remain. Baxter reluctantly -went out and closed the door, which, one is disposed to fear, meant -that the interested old servant did not go far on its other side.</p> - -<p>“I am engaged,” continued Fair, looking up at Miss Mettleby. “I will go -up and kiss them afterward. Sit down—no, not on that chest, please.”</p> - -<p>“Why not?” asked Miss Mettleby, surprised. “It’s my favorite seat—it -is so comfortable.”</p> - -<p>“It makes me uncomfortable to see you sit there—at any time,” answered -Fair, endeavoring to appear whimsical and indifferent, as usual. -“So—thank you. That’s better. Well, Kate, the three months are -over—to the very day, I believe. Coincidences are strange sometimes, -are they not? The time is up. Have you decided?”</p> - -<p>“I have,” returned Kate so quickly that he started.</p> - -<p>“Well?” he asked, after waiting in vain for her to go on.</p> - -<p>“I leave Mrs. Fair’s service on the first of next month,” quietly -replied the governess, evidently with a quietness which cost her much, -and as if bracing herself for the crisis of her life. “I have secured -another position—with Lord Linklater’s family. I have advised Mrs. -Fair already.”</p> - -<p>“I’m glad of it—why, you look hurt. Fie!” taunted Fair. “Such virtue -should be pleased, not hurt. The eternal feminine will out, though, always.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me,” retorted Kate stiffly, “I am heartily glad that you are -glad. May I ask what has moved you to so commendable a frame of mind? -If you had a conscience, I would say that it had at last awakened. -Ah, I see—it was pride. What a mercy it is that when nature left -conscience out of the aristocracy it supplied them with pride! Were it -not for good form, how many gentlemen would there be? I congratulate you.”</p> - -<p>“Go on,” urged Fair, settling back into his chair with the smile of -amused superiority which he very often indulged in, contrary to his -real feeling, to draw her out. “By Jove, you have enough cant to -stock a whole meeting of dissenting old ladies. What a mercy it is, -as you would put it, that when heaven forgot to endow young females -with common sense, it gave them such a superabundance of pharisaical -tommy-rot! If it were not for maiden aunts and governesses, how much -<i>talk</i> of virtue—talk, I say—would there be in this naughty world?”</p> - -<p>“It is well that there are some who, even by talking, remind men -that there is, in theory at least, such a thing as honor,” replied -Kate, with a sneaking notion that she was talking very platitudinous -platitudes.</p> - -<p>“Oh, entirely so,” drawled Fair sneeringly. “But isn’t it a pity that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> -the milk of human kindness should be soured by the vinegar of -puritanical self-righteousness? I promised you that I would not speak -to you for three months. I have kept my promise. Now I am going to -have my say—now, now, don’t fidget, I beg of you! A very different -man is going to speak to you now from the one who said what I said to -you on the deck of the sinking yacht that night. Do you remember, Miss -Mettleby?”</p> - -<p>“I wish that I could hope some day to forget it,” answered the girl, -flaming scarlet.</p> - -<p>Fair rose as if trying to control emotions that were shaking his -foundations. “Don’t you see?” he burst out, confronting her; “don’t you -see that your hopelessness in that connection is the result of only one -possible cause? You love me.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Fair!” screamed the governess, springing to her feet with a -gesture of protest that died in the making, for the clutch of the truth -of his words was about her throat. “Truly, sir, you forget your own -dignity and my dependent and defenseless position. I cannot hear this -from you, sir.”</p> - -<p>“But you must hear me—you shall hear me,” he flung back at her. Then -with a tenderness that was harder to resist: “And, Miss Mettleby—Kate, -you really need not fear or try to shun me now. God knows, I shall be -helpless and harmless enough. Yes, Kate, the rich and powerful Maxwell -Fair will in a day or two be buried under the contempt and scorn of -all good men. But, by the right of dying men, I claim that I may speak -to you. I am glad that you are leaving us. I wish to God that you had -never come. Among your many virtues you include courage. May I confide -in you? Ask your advice? Lean on you?”</p> - -<p>Had he struck her, had he pressed on her a suit that bore dishonor on -its face, she could have met him, young and untutored in the arts of -life though she was. But when the great, calm, finished man to whom she -had looked up in an unspoken worship laid his hand pleadingly upon her -now, and those dear, merry lips of his quivered and almost failed -to shape his piteous cry that she should help him, it was with a -tremendous effort that she conquered the impulse to throw her arms -about his neck, and said calmly:</p> - -<p>“Mr. Fair, this is scarcely kind of you. My God, how ill you look! -Forgive me, sir, if I am the unhappy cause of any of your present suffering.”</p> - -<p>“Kate,” he said at length, looking wistfully at her.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Mr. Fair,” she replied, hushed and unable to protest further.</p> - -<p>“Kate, you have been with us for two years,” he began, speaking very -low. “Little by little you grew into my life. The hungry yearning for -I knew not what, the restless madness, the sense of emptiness and of -despair, all that had turned my life into the aimless thing it was, -seemed to give place within me to a strange, new spirit of hope and -faith and comfort. And you, you, little woman, were the cause of that -wondrous change. As I saw you moving about the house so sweetly, as -I heard you singing the children to sleep, as I noted the difference -between you and the women who had made my world, I came slowly to -realize that you were all to me. Did I tell you this? Did I show it in -any way?”</p> - -<p>“You were a gentleman,” replied Miss Mettleby, regaining control of -herself sufficiently to speak as she thought she should and no longer -as she wished. “And, anyhow, had you forgot your honor and my position -so far as to have spoken, you know that I would have left your roof at -once. Please, may I not go now?”</p> - -<p>Her manner galled him as all that was not genuine did always, and he -was about to sneer at the phrase, “leave your roof,” but he at once -recognized that to her mind, in which truths were broad, general, -axiomatic propositions, and not complex and subtle many-sided phases -of propositions, there would be no halting ground between her present -attitude and actual dishonor. So he went on. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No; please do not go yet. Good heavens! when I am done you will regret -your wish to leave me. Well then, I did not speak to you. I quite -ignored you, treated you like a servant. But it was from no sense of -honor, mark you; for I deny that honor, yours or mine, would have been -lost by speaking. Nor was it from a squeamish fear of the proprieties -and the conventionalities that I refrained, for I would brush the world -aside as so much stubble if it should stand between me and my right to -truth. No, Kate, it was not from the lofty principles which you imagine -to be God’s, nor from my foolish pride as an aristocrat—how could -you, even for a moment, think me so base? I remained silent because, whether -for good or ill, I have devoted all I am to an idea, a cause, a purpose.”</p> - -<p>As he spoke these last few words a number of conflicting thoughts -passed through Kate’s mind. With only the vaguest notion of his -meaning, jealousy shot a stinging, momentary, utterly illogical shaft -through her heart, which was followed by a profoundly feminine feeling -of injury in being thus coolly told that she would have been addressed -had not some paramount other interest absorbed his mind.</p> - -<p>“Indeed?” she remarked, with what she thought was biting sarcasm, but -which a much less penetrating mind than Maxwell Fair’s would have at -once taken as an indication of jealousy and love. “And so you plume -yourself, do you, on considering your wife and children an idea, a -cause, a purpose, to which, for good or ill, you have made up your mind -to give all that you are? Heroic, I must say, and so unusual.”</p> - -<p>“Governess! Sunday-school moralizer!” he jeered at her. “No, nor was -I deterred by that still more arrant humbug about ‘penniless and -dependent females’ that you learned from our past masters of humbug -and lachrymose moral biliousness, the great novelists. No, it was not -because you were a poor orphan girl in my employ, and, consequently, -incapable of defending yourself, that I refrained from speaking to -you. Rubbish! The cant of moral snobs! As if the virtue of poor girls -was made of weaker stuff than that of rich ones! My God, did I want -victims, I swear I would pursue them in drawing-rooms with more success -than in the servants’ hall.”</p> - -<p>“I really cannot see what all this has to do with you and me,” coldly -remarked Miss Mettleby when he paused.</p> - -<p>“You will see presently,” Fair answered, ignoring her freezing manner -and with rapidly growing intensity and feeling. “I remained silent. I -crucified my heart, denied my soul. But that night, Kate, when you and -I alone were clinging to the yacht and neither of us hoped to see the -sun again, I told you. It was my right. It was your right as well.”</p> - -<p>“And, half dead as I was, I shamed you, sir, and called you what you -were by every law of God and man and honor,” she flung back at him with -a flush of remembered nobility very comforting in the light of more -recent less lofty thoughts.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied Fair, with his old-time elevation and calmness, which -were a mainspring of his influence over her; “yes, the habits of a -lifetime cling to us, Kate, making us dare to lie upon the very edge -of death and coming judgment. I loved you, and I told you. You loved -me, and denied it. And we were both about to face eternity! Which of us -would have faced it with the cleaner heart?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t, don’t!” she cried, shrinking from him. “You know I cannot -argue with you. But I am sure that I was right, that I am right now. -Please let me go.”</p> - -<p>“In a moment, in a moment,” he answered, grasping her two hands. “I -probably will never see you again, Kate—so let me now speak out. I -asked you to take three months to think it over, and promised you that -I would then give you the reasons for my strange conduct and beg of you -to face the world with me for our great love’s sake.” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said, freeing her hands; “you said you would be able to -convince me that there was no dishonor in your love, no wrong in what -you would propose that we should do. Three months you gave me—three -months. Why, Mr. Fair, three minutes would be enough for me to reach -the only possible decision which you, an English gentleman, can ask a -young and unprotected English girl like me to make. But I was grateful -for your three months’ silence. If you could trust yourself, I am -compelled to own that I could not so trust myself. I love you—may God -forgive me, but I cannot help it! But your chivalrous respite of three -months has given me a grip upon myself. I do not fear myself. I do not -fear even you. I am to leave your house, never to see you again. And -some day you will thank me.”</p> - -<p>There had been a wondrous new development of strength and beauty in her -as she spoke, and Fair had watched her with profoundest feeling.</p> - -<p>“Kate, Kate, you wrong me, upon my honor!” he cried when she ceased. -“The promise that I made you was one that I could keep. There is a -mystery, an awful something in my life, that has through all these -years kept me so falsely true, that, being true to one great object -fixed on me by my fate, I’ve been compelled to seem what I am not to -all the world. To get you, Kate, to rest at last my broken heart upon -your love, I was this very night to break the self-imposed conditions -of my weird life-purpose. God! how I counted them, these long, slow -days, waiting for this one! An hour ago I still supposed that I could -fold you on my heart tonight and tell you everything! I thought that I -could say the word that would dispel your doubts and make you—you only -in the world see me as God does. But now I cannot. Be brave and hear -me, Kate,” he added, holding her arm, which was trembling under the -influence of his own great passion. “I am a criminal. I have done that -which must make you despise me, must drive me from the society of men, -and bring me to the gibbet.”</p> - -<p>Forgetting all her previous moods, Miss Mettleby allowed the choking -man to lean against her as she cried. “You are ill. Take my arm—so. -And oh, believe me, that nothing that you imagine you have done, -nothing that you could do, can rob you of one poor and weak, but brave -and true girl’s friendship. Do let me call your wife. Yes, I will call -her—let me. And you must tell her. Tell her—her, not me.”</p> - -<p>“Stop! Stop!” cried Fair, frantically holding the struggling girl, who -was making for the door; “and be quiet. Hear me. It’s all that I can -say, but it will show you, Kate, that, if I am a criminal, I mean you -no dishonor. You want to call my wife. <i>I have no wife!</i> She is not——”</p> - -<p>He was cut short by Baxter, who stood at the door at that moment and -announced, “Mr. Travers.” Travers entered smiling, and Fair, with a -completeness of mastery over his feelings which Kate could not believe -true, sang out: “Travers, old chap, glad to see you! What’s the good word?”</p> - -<p>Miss Mettleby slipped out of the library and ran up to her little room. -She knew that now it would be impossible to see him again that night, -as it would be late when the last guest had gone. Throwing herself on -her bed, she tried to make it all out. His crime—his saying that he -had no wife—the awful something in his life which, for her sake, he -was to have broken from that very night—what did it all mean?</p> - -<p>She could grasp no idea out of the chaos long enough for it to -take shape in her mind. She drifted helplessly down the torrent of -tumultuous fears and hopes and hungers, knowing only one thing—that -she loved him, she loved him.</p> - -<h3>CHAPTER III</h3> - -<p>The man who now came in was that lovable, unlucky, wonderfully clever -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> -Dick Travers, who was forty and a failure when a manager, miraculously -experiencing a lucid interval, brought out his five hundredth play, -“The Idiot,” since which time five hundred managers coquet with him -for each new play. But all this was after the time now reached. Dick -Travers was still a failure whom Fair had met before his own ascent to -opulence, and to whom he was drawn by several ties, among which was -their common taste for etchings in dry-point and the more tangible -common interest in yachting and hatred for most things foreign.</p> - -<p>“Pretty well right, thanks,” replied Travers to Fair’s welcome, adding -immediately with much excitement, “and by Jove, old man, have you seen -the evening papers? You’ve got a lot of those Empire shares, haven’t -you? Well, the blooming things went up to two hundred and eighty today.”</p> - -<p>“Not really?” exclaimed Fair, enjoying the innocent’s naïve idea -that all this was news to the man who had put up the shares to that -altitude. “Baxter, some brandy and soda. Look sharp.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir; thank you, sir,” answered Baxter with spirit as he trotted -out after the brandy and soda, pathetically clutching the hope that his -young master’s case could not be so desperate after all, since he was -meeting his friend’s high spirits with equally high ones.</p> - -<p>“You picked up these shares, didn’t you,” asked Travers, sitting on -the end of the table, “when they were being kicked about the Street at -about twenty? Lord, what a lucky devil you are. I, on the contrary, bought -those beastly Australian King shares, and they went up also—in smoke.”</p> - -<p>“I am lucky, am I not?” acquiesced Fair, glancing over at the chest. -“In fact, I wanted to talk to you tonight about myself. Do you see this -pistol? Do you recognize it?” he went on, with so abrupt a change of -subject and expression that Travers stood up with an uncomfortable look.</p> - -<p>“Perfectly,” he answered, after taking up the pistol and looking at it; -“it is the one poor Ponsonby gave you—but what’s the game, old man?”</p> - -<p>“Examine it. Is it loaded?” asked Fair with tormenting mystery.</p> - -<p>“Yes. All the chambers are full. Translate, please,” said Travers after -carefully inspecting the revolver, with growing annoyance.</p> - -<p>“Oh, come, now, look at it carefully,” cried Fair, with what seemed -absurd warmth to Travers. “Isn’t one of the chambers empty? Have -another look.”</p> - -<p>“Right you are—one cartridge has been discharged,” answered Travers.</p> - -<p>“Recently, wouldn’t you say?” continued Fair.</p> - -<p>“Yes, perhaps,” replied Travers, becoming seriously disturbed by this -most unwonted development of character in the hard-headed and practical -Fair. “But what the deuce is the game, you know?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” answered Fair, putting down the pistol and turning from the -table as if about to turn from the gruesome subject as well. “I had a -fancy that I wanted you to notice these little details. I may ask you -to remember them some day. By the way, you are going to Drayton Hall -tomorrow?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” quickly replied Travers, only too glad to follow some new lead. -“Sir Nelson asked me at the club last night. Who is to be there? -Drayton is no end of a bore, you know, when Lady Poynter has what she -calls ‘the literary set’ down. The men are a lot of insufferable prigs, -and the women—oh, hang it, you know what they are.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” drawled Fair, himself again; “if one could ever meet the women -who write! But one can’t, you know—it is the women who think they -write that one meets. But we are safe tomorrow. Poynter assured me that -nobody with brains would be down—so we count upon a comfortable time. -Anyhow, I shall be running back to town in the evening, and, before -I forget it, I want you and Allyne to give me the night—here at the -house. I have a bit of rather serious work on my hands.” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’m yours, of course,” answered Travers. “But, I say, old chap, let -up on this melodrama, can’t you? Be a man and try to bear up bravely -under your increased income of sixty thousand more a year. Now I have -a jolly good right to chronic blue devils, for I never succeeded at -anything in my life, as you know. But you—gad! it’s treason for you to -do a blessed thing but chant pæans of victory—and pour libations on yourself.”</p> - -<p>“Never fear,” laughed Fair, “I’m the happiest man alive. You have -no idea of what I possess. Why, hang it, man,” he went on with an -unpleasant ring in his voice that puzzled and alarmed Travers, “I tell -you, I have things that would surprise you—in this very room. Ah, -here’s the brandy and soda.”</p> - -<p>Baxter entered and deposited the tray on the table, but, although he -took an unconscionable long time to arrange the decanters and glasses, -he could get no hint of the drift of the conversation, as neither of -the gentlemen spoke until the absorbing process of “mixing” was over -and Baxter gone.</p> - -<p>“I forgot to tell you,” began Travers, with his glass in his hand, -“that I saw that Cuban chap, Lopez, this morning, and he wants me to -dine with him to meet another yellow gent from the land of cigars, who -says that he knows you, or rather, Mrs. Fair. Can you imagine who he -may be?”</p> - -<p>“It is probably a man named Mendes, a very rich planter,” answered -Fair, after a few moments, during which he was critically studying the -rich amber color of his drink as he held his glass between his eye and -the light. “I fancy it must be Mendes, for he was in London today—but -he left very suddenly this afternoon. Have another drink.”</p> - -<p>“Left, eh?” asked Travers, filling his glass. “Thank heaven, for then -I sha’n’t have to meet him. I hate those Cubans. Always seem to have -something up their sleeve—and to have forgot tubbing that morning.”</p> - -<p>“But you would like Mendes, I’m sure,” returned Fair, smiling. “Plays -chess better than any man on earth, I believe. He was good enough to -call to say good-bye, although he was in a beastly hurry. If you had -kept your promise and dropped in for a go at billiards, you would have -met him. I was able to do him a trifling service at one time ages ago, -and the fellow seems never to forget it. I’m sorry he’s gone; I am, really.”</p> - -<p>“Not returning, then?” inquired Travers, with no very great interest.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid not,” replied Fair, with a slight uneasiness. “I’d give a -good deal to see him walk in that door this minute, though. You see——”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Allyne is in the billiard-room, sir,” announced Baxter at the door.</p> - -<p>“Run in and tell Allyne that I’ll join you presently, will you, Dick, -that’s a good chap?” said Fair, with more of command than suggestion -in his tone, so that Travers obeyed and followed Baxter down to the -billiard-room.</p> - -<p>In an instant Fair’s whole bearing changed. Closing the door, he picked -up the hat and coat that Baxter had brought from the passage and thrust -them into the large chest, carefully averting his face as he did so. -Dropping into his chair he wiped the cold sweat from his face and -signaled to the crack in the side door that whoever it was that had -been gently opening it for some little time might now come in. As he -knew, it was Mrs. Fair, who then entered, attired in another dinner gown.</p> - -<p>Motioning to her that she must speak softly, Fair said: “Allyne and -Travers are in the billiard-room. The rest will be coming presently. -How are you, poor little Janet?”</p> - -<p>She came and sat on the arm of his chair and put her face down upon his -shoulder. “Am I awake?” she moaned after a few seconds. “Oh, Maxwell, -for God’s sake, wake me and tell me that I have been dreaming. My God, -what can we do? Where is—it?”</p> - -<p>“Hush!” replied Fair, holding his arm about her. “Try not to think of -him, dear. Be brave, sweet, for a couple of hours. Don’t be afraid. -Have I ever failed you?” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, no—never, Maxwell—God bless you, never,” she sobbed. “But, -oh—look, look—quick, hide that pistol!”</p> - -<p>“I left it there on purpose,” he answered quietly and reassuringly. -“Now don’t in any way try to alter my plans. I have thought more in the -last half-hour than I ever did in all the rest of my life. Everything -is provided for. At this time tomorrow night you and the children will -be safe on the continent. What did you do with that other dress?”</p> - -<p>“Ugh,” she shuddered; “while I was taking it off baby came running into -the room and wanted to touch the horrible spots. I wrapped the accursed -thing up in stout paper and gave it to Miss Mettleby. Why, you are not -afraid that she—but no. Well, I told her it was a surprise for you, -and she will hide it somewhere while we are at dinner, and tell me after.”</p> - -<p>“That was a wise move,” said Fair. “And now, Janet, a brave heart, old -girl, and this beastly dinner will be over. What a trump you are!”</p> - -<p>“Trust me,” she replied, looking with infinite loyalty at the man who -had stood for so much so strangely much in her torn and beaten life. -“Trust me. But, Maxwell, when the end comes, as it most surely will, -you will explain how it came to be done—you will tell them how his -crimes deserved this. For the children’s sake you won’t be foolish and -sacrifice yourself to protect others? Oh, promise me, promise me.”</p> - -<p>“Poor little woman!” he answered, with great tenderness. “Yes, yes, all -shall be told. Hush! I hear them on the stairs. Yes, they are coming.”</p> - -<p>When Baxter with much ceremony threw open the door of the library, Mr. -and Mrs. Maxwell Fair stood there radiantly cordial and unruffled to -welcome the three or four intimate friends who were dining with them.</p> - -<p>“Sir Nelson and Lady Poynter, Mrs. March, Mr. Travers, Mr. Allyne,” -solemnly announced Baxter at the door, and these several ladies and -gentlemen, all chatting and beaming, hurried forward to pay their -respects to the most talked of man in London and his gracious and -handsome wife.</p> - -<h3>CHAPTER IV</h3> - -<p>“My dear Lady Poynter, it was so good of you and Sir Nelson to honor -us—Mrs. March, so glad,” said Mrs. Fair, advancing to greet them.</p> - -<p>“Good evening, good evening, everybody,” blustered old Sir Nelson, -with a red face and a warm heart. “And, Fair, my lad, I see that those -shares that you put me into behaved rather well today. You must have -made a rather neat turn in them. Come, now, how was it?”</p> - -<p>“Pretty well, Sir Nelson,” answered Fair. “I sold out just before the -close at two hundred and seventy-five.”</p> - -<p>“Then you must have cleared a hundred thousand net?” said Sir Nelson.</p> - -<p>“A bit over double that amount, I think my brokers said,” replied Fair, -with no more feeling than he would have shown in announcing a change in -the weather.</p> - -<p>“Hear that, now,” pouted Mrs. March. “Why can’t you gentlemen ever -think of the widow and the fatherless when you, as you say, ‘put in’ -your friends on such occasions?”</p> - -<p>This little lady was by general consent the most charming widow -in the world, her brilliant mind, plump person and winsome manner -having beguiled no end of confirmed bachelors into forgetting their -resolutions—but without success, for Mrs. March remained Mrs. March -season after season.</p> - -<p>“Ah, my dear Mrs. March,” protested Allyne the incomprehensible, “what -heresy! Just fancy what a pity it would be if widows and younger sons -and all other picturesque people were to be made commonplace by money. -A widow’s charm lies in her delicious appeal to the protection of all -men. With a million in the funds, a widow would find no end of chaps -asking her to protect them—and so the charm would be gone. And as for -us younger sons—well, just contrast that solemn ass, my brother the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> -viscount, and the penniless, the clever, the dashing, the—how shall -I do justice to a thing so lovely as I? No, Sir Nelson, if you ever -put me into any of your vulgar good things, I’ll cut you, by Jove—and -society will owe you a grudge for having robbed it of its chief -ornament—a younger son who is a very younger son indeed.”</p> - -<p>“I am afraid that Mr. Allyne’s philosophy is too deep for me,” laughed -Mrs. Fair, and Travers remarked sweetly, “Allyne, you’re an idiot.”</p> - -<p>“But such a blissful idiot,” smilingly went on the very younger son. -“Awfully funny, but nobody can ever deny what I say. We pity Mrs. March, -the widow, and envy Mrs. Fair, the wife—but, you know, by Jove, I’d -turn it the other way about, don’t you know? No offense, Fair—nothing -personal. No, my friends, appearances are deceitful. I’ll lay you a -thousand guineas that Fair can’t get what he wants with all his Empire -shares and the rest of it, whereas I have everything I want, besides -several elder brothers that I do not want. I have everything I want, I -tell you.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” retorted Mrs. March, “of course you have, since all that you -care to have is an absurd idea of your own importance.”</p> - -<p>“A hit, a palpable hit!” roared Sir Nelson as they all laughed.</p> - -<p>“Cruel,” protested Allyne. “And to punish you, Mrs. March, I shall ask -Mrs. Fair to allow me to take you down to dinner.”</p> - -<p>“I protest,” shouted Sir Nelson with fine gallantry; “I claim her.”</p> - -<p>“Jealous,” sneered Allyne. “Shame! Why, Poynter, your bald spot is as -big as your brain area—and Lady Poynter here, too. Fie on you!”</p> - -<p>“But Mrs. Fair can’t give Mrs. March any such sentence as placing her -at your mercy, Allyne,” said Travers; “for it is a principle of law -that it is unlawful to inflict any unusual and cruel punishments.”</p> - -<p>“Well, since you men can’t talk of anything except Mrs. March, I for -one am jealous,” cheerily put in Lady Poynter, with her cap bobbing -about prettily, “and I hope that Mrs. Fair will punish her by making -her listen to Mr. Allyne for two hours.”</p> - -<p>“But, I say, you know,” broke in Sir Poynter, while all the men added -their protests to such a disposition of the widow.</p> - -<p>“Just hear them all, will you?” cried Mrs. Fair, lifting her hands. “I -fear, my dear Lady Poynter, that to have a husband is fatal to success. -Every blessed one of them wants to sit by Mrs. March.”</p> - -<p>“Of course we do,” exclaimed Allyne. “You see, my dear Mrs. Fair, that, -while we all love you and dear Lady Poynter, we can’t quite go those -ridiculous appendages of yours, to wit., Mr. Fair and Sir Nelson. If -you could get rid of them, you know—and there are several ways—then -you would give even the peerless Mrs. March a close run.”</p> - -<p>“Why have you never married?” asked Mrs. March.</p> - -<p>“Can’t, you know—regularly can’t,” replied Allyne, with a woebegone -expression. “I could never think of marrying anyone but a widow, and, -as I consider widows the only desirable women, it would be against my -principles to reduce their number by marrying one of them, you know.”</p> - -<p>“But you might increase their number,” returned Mrs. March spiritedly, -“by marrying a girl and then atoning for the wrong you had done her in -so marrying her by dying at once.”</p> - -<p>“By Jove, do you know, I had never thought of that,” Allyne replied, -adding after a moment of serious consideration, “but, suppose I didn’t -die, you know? Deucedly uncertain thing, dying. Suicide, of course, -is out of the question in my case, as I am far too unselfish to seek -my own happiness at the frightful cost of depriving the world of my -presence. And English women are so fastidious that I might find it -difficult to persuade my wife to shoot—Look, look, Fair—Mrs. Fair is ill.”</p> - -<p>While he was rattling along with his stream of nonsense Mrs. Fair, who -was standing a little behind the rest, swayed forward and would have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> -fallen had not Allyne’s exclamation called attention to her.</p> - -<p>“Quick, she is faint!” cried Lady Poynter sympathetically.</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Fair almost at once recovered herself, and said: “Pray, don’t -mind. I have these foolish turns at times. They amount to nothing. You -were saying, Mr. Allyne, that——”</p> - -<p>“Allyne was saying, my dear,” hastily put in Fair to head off Allyne, -“Allyne was saying that English women are so narrow in their views that -they hesitate to make the idiots of themselves that Englishmen are ever -so ready to do.”</p> - -<p>“I was saying nothing of the sort,” retorted Allyne, in spite of a kick -surreptitiously administered to him by Travers. “On the contrary, I——”</p> - -<p>“My lady is served,” gravely announced Baxter, pulling aside the -portières and awaiting the forming procession which, to judge from his -solemn bearing, might have been the funeral cortège of a great personage.</p> - -<p>“Come, friends,” smiled Mrs. Fair. “Mrs. March, I will be merciful and -ask Mr. Travers to take you down. Sir Nelson, your arm.”</p> - -<p>Fair led the way with Lady Poynter, Sir Nelson with his hostess brought -up the rear, while Allyne walked in solitary, philosophical mood, much -as he chose.</p> - -<p>“It’s too bad, Mr. Allyne,” said Mrs. Fair, looking over her shoulder -at him, “but if you will be good, you may have some sweets. Come along.”</p> - -<p>“I appreciate your fine discrimination,” he replied as he executed a -flank movement and placed himself beside her.</p> - -<p>So they went downstairs chatting and laughing, leaving that gruesome -chest to silence and forgetfulness, and none of them saw the thin, sly -man who smiled as they passed within three feet of his hiding-place in -the little closet beneath the stairs.</p> - -<h3>CHAPTER V</h3> - -<p>While this banter had been passing among the company in the great oak -library below, Miss Mettleby lay on her little white bed where she had -flung herself in a deeper and sterner mood than had ever been hers -before. One after another possible explanation of her great knight’s -terrible words presented itself to her mind, only to be rejected.</p> - -<p>For one quivering moment the thought that if the woman who passed for -Mrs. Fair were not, as he had said, his wife, he was free to—but, no, -for that meant that Maxwell Fair was a scoundrel who could not only -place a woman in such a nameless position but also desert her when she -had borne children to him. It was a frightful view from any point—and -yet, at the bottom of her heart she felt that the man who had obtained -such a mastery over her soul was not, could not be, so base.</p> - -<p>Racked by this futile effort to see light through the darkness Miss -Mettleby started as she heard a tap at her door and the quiet, earnest -voice of Mrs. Fair asking if she might come in. Her first impulse was -to take this strong, sweet woman, so terribly her fellow-sufferer, -into her confidence, but before she had called out to her to enter all -such mad ideas had flown. Trying to banish all evidence of her recent -tempest of feeling, the governess respectfully begged her mistress to -come in.</p> - -<p>It was nothing, Mrs. Fair said, with a great show of forced pleasantry, -but a little surprise for Mr. Fair—a parcel. Would Miss Mettleby hide -it while they were at dinner, and tell her where she had put it after? -Both women assured each other that they had not been crying—just a headache. - And, yes, Miss Mettleby would find a hiding-place for the surprise.</p> - -<p>So Mrs. Fair went down to greet her guests, and when she had heard the -company go from the library to dinner, Miss Mettleby ran down to that -deserted room with the big, brown-paper parcel in her hands. She had -at once thought of the old Italian chest as the very place in which to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> -hide Mr. Fair’s surprise. She peeped into the library to make sure that -her ears had not deceived her. The room was empty, and the girl crept in.</p> - -<p>Fearing that some of the footmen or other servants might enter, she -took the precaution to draw the portières across the door into the -passage and then hurriedly removed the books and other things that -Mr. Fair had placed upon the chest. This done, she was just going to -lift the lid, when she heard a peculiar hissing noise which would have -startled her at any time and which, with her nerves keyed up, now -filled her with genuine terror. She turned from the chest and listened.</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>To be continued in the April number.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="f120"><i>A Trust-Buster</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">COBWIGGER—By the way, my dear, I haven’t seen -anything of the gas bill this month.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Cobwigger</span>—Oh, Henry, it came over a week ago, but it was -so much I didn’t dare show it to you for fear you would blame me for -being extravagant. Here it is.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cobwigger</span> (<i>looking at bill</i>)—Hoppity-hornets! What a bill -for a small family! I don’t blame you at all, my dear. It isn’t your fault; -it’s this grasping corporation. But I’ll get ahead of them all right.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Cobwigger</span>—How can you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cobwigger</span>—Pshaw! It’s just like a woman to ask such a foolish -question. How am I going to get ahead of this monopoly? Why, tell the -old gas company to take out its meter.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Cobwigger</span>—And then what will you do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cobwigger</span>—Why, put in lamps and patronize the -Standard Oil Company.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> -<p class="f120"><i>Kernels</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">MANY a politician who talks about an honest dollar never earned an -honest penny.</p> - -<p>If there wasn’t a sucker born every minute a lot of people in this -world would have to work for a living.</p> - -<p>The cost of keeping up appearances is usually defrayed with other -people’s money.</p> - -<p>The man whose mind moves like clockwork isn’t the fellow who has wheels -in his head.</p> - -<p>Many a politician would be a statesman if there were more money in it.</p> - -<p>The thought of work makes some people more tired than if they had -really done the work.</p> - -<p>The man who thinks that his money will do almost everything for him is -the one who did almost everything for his money.</p> - -<p>Marriage is the only union that doesn’t make a man keep regular hours.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> -<p class="f120"><i>A Positive Proof</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">“ARE you sure that Percy really loves you?”</p> - -<p>“Positive. Why, at the dinner last night he offered to divide his last -dyspepsia tablet with me.” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="PEACE" id="PEACE"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The Butcheries of Peace</i></h2></div> -<p class="center space-above1">BY W. J. GHENT</p> - -<p class="center space-below1"><i>Author of “Our Benevolent Feudalism,”<br /> “Mass and Class”</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">WE hear much of the butchery of war. Mr. Edward Atkinson -and his fellow-anti-militarists are always opulent with statistics of -casualties in armed conflicts; and in their violent denunciation of -warfare are eagerly joined by the various peace societies, the Women’s -Christian Temperance unions and such militant, though ephemeral, -bodies as the Parker Constitutional Clubs. A prominent educator has -characterized the Civil War as the Great Killing, and the popular -imagination has been led to look upon it as a carnival of almost -unexampled bloodshed. The militarism of gun and sword is denounced as -though it were the greatest scourge of the race, and its horrors are -pictured in the most lurid colors.</p> - -<p>The horrors of <i>industrial</i> militarism, on the other hand, claim -but scant attention. Under our present civilization, dominated by the -ethics of the trading class, they are, by the overwhelming mass of -the people, taken as a matter of course. And yet the fiercest and -bloodiest of modern wars—excepting alone the present Russo-Japanese -conflict—result in smaller losses in deaths, maimings and the -infliction of mortal diseases than are caused by the ordinary -processes of the capitalist system of industry. A modern Milton might -appropriately remind us that</p> - -<p class="f120">Peace hath her butcheries no less renowned than war.</p> - -<p>If the Civil War is to be regarded as the Great Killing, it must be so -regarded only in relation to other wars; for in comparison with -capitalist industry as it obtains in the United States of America in -this decade, the Civil War can only rightly be regarded as the Lesser -Killing. It lasted, moreover, for but four years; while the killings -and other casualties of our industrial militarism go on year after -year in an ever-increasing volume. And as the Civil War eliminated the -physically best of the race, so does the present system of industry -eliminate the physically best. Only it does not stop there, but takes -also the helpless and the weak.</p> - -<p class="space-below1">Let us see what comparisons of casualties can -be made. According to the figures in the Adjutant-General’s office, the -fatalities in the Northern Army during the four years of the Civil War -(exclusive of deaths from disease) were as follows:</p> - -<table border="0" cellspacing="0" summary=" " cellpadding="0" > - <tbody><tr> - <td class="tdl">Killed in battle</td> - <td class="tdr">67,058</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Died of wounds</td> - <td class="tdr">43,012</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Other causes</td> - <td class="tdr u"> 40,154</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"> Total</td> - <td class="tdr">  150,224</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Yearly average</td> - <td class="tdr">37,556</td> - </tr> - </tbody> -</table> - -<p class="space-above1">There were also 199,720 soldiers who died of -disease. There are no means of comparing the number of these fatalities -with the fatalities from disease contracted in dangerous and unsanitary -occupations. It is probable that they do not approximate one-tenth of -the latter. But, since there are no available figures for comparison, -they must be omitted from present consideration.</p> - -<p>The losses of the Confederates will never be known. The records of -their armies were but imperfectly kept, and such as were properly made -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> -were in many instances lost or destroyed. Even the strength of -the Confederate armies is a matter about which there has been an -unceasing dispute between Northern and Southern historians since the -Civil War. It is not to be doubted that the Confederates suffered -a greater mortality relative to their numerical strength than did -the Federals, for they were employed to the last available man on -the firing line, whereas hundreds of thousands of Federals, held as -reserves or stationed as guards, rarely saw the action of battle. In -certain engagements, moreover, such as the battle of Chickamauga, -the Confederate losses far exceeded the Federal losses. Assuming the -purely arbitrary figure of 65 per cent. of the Federal fatalities as -representing the fatalities of the Confederates (exclusive of deaths -from disease), we have a total of 97,645, or a yearly average of -24,411. Adding the figures for both sides we have an annual average of -62,112 fatalities occurring in a struggle to the death, wherein every -device, every energy which men can employ against one another for the -destruction of life were employed.</p> - -<p class="space-below2">When we come to the statistics of industrial fatalities, -we find something like the records of the Confederate armies. The figures are -notoriously, confessedly incomplete, and often so much so as to be -entirely misleading. Even the tables of railroad accidents compiled by -the Interstate Commerce Commission are known to show totals far below -the actual casualties. A writer in the New York <i>Herald</i> for December -4, 1904, has analyzed some of these tables and pointed out their -defects. But, defective as they are, they furnish an approximate basis -for comparisons with some of the sanguinary conflicts of the Civil War. -The killings on interstate roads for the year ended June 30, 1904, are -reported at 9,984; the woundings at 78,247. The State roads probably -added about 975 killings and 7,500 woundings. To these may be added the -casualties on the trolley lines, approximately 1,340 killed and 52,169 -wounded. We have thus a basis for comparison with the losses at -Gettysburg, Chancellorsville and Chickamauga:</p> - -<table border="0" cellspacing="0" summary=" " cellpadding="0" > - <tbody><tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="3"><i>Losses in Three Battles (both sides), 1863</i></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdc"> </td> - <td class="tdr">Killed</td> - <td class="tdr">Wounded</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Gettysburg</td> - <td class="tdr">5,662</td> - <td class="tdr">27,203</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Chickamauga</td> - <td class="tdr">3,924</td> - <td class="tdr">23,362</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Chancellorsville</td> - <td class="tdr u"> 3,271</td> - <td class="tdr u">18,843</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"> </td> - <td class="tdr">12,857</td> - <td class="tdr">69,408</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl" colspan="3"> </td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="3"><i>Losses in Railroad Accidents, 1904</i></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdc"> </td> - <td class="tdr">Killed</td> - <td class="tdr">Wounded</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Interstate roads</td> - <td class="tdr">9,984</td> - <td class="tdr">78,247</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">State roads</td> - <td class="tdr">*975</td> - <td class="tdr">7,500</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Trolley lines</td> - <td class="tdr u">*1,340</td> - <td class="tdr u"> 52,169</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"> </td> - <td class="tdr">12,299</td> - <td class="tdr">137,916</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl" colspan="3">*Estimated.</td> - </tr> - </tbody> -</table> - -<p class="space-above1 space-below2">The factories probably destroy -more lives than do the railroads. But the figures are not obtainable. -The statistics of factory casualties given in Bulletin No. 83 of the -Census Bureau are ridiculous. Were the factories placed under a Federal -supervision law, and were their owners compelled to report accidents to -the authorities, a vastly different condition would be revealed. For -the coal mines, on the other hand, we have something like authentic -figures. The United States Geological Survey reports the casualties -in mining coal for the year 1901 as 1,467 killed and 3,643 wounded. -Except for the low ratio of wounded to killed, this would make a fair -comparison with any one of a number of important engagements during the -Civil War. Pennsylvania alone furnished an industrial Bull Run.</p> - -<table border="0" cellspacing="0" summary=" " cellpadding="0" > - <tbody><tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="3"><i>Battle of Bull Run, 1861</i></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdc"> </td> - <td class="tdr">Killed</td> - <td class="tdr">  Wounded</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Federals</td> - <td class="tdr">470</td> - <td class="tdr">1,071</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Confederates</td> - <td class="tdr u">387</td> - <td class="tdr u">1,582</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"> Total</td> - <td class="tdr">857</td> - <td class="tdr">2,653</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="3"> </td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="3"><i>Pennsylvania Coal Mines, 1901</i></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdc"> </td> - <td class="tdr">Killed</td> - <td class="tdr">Wounded</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Anthracite</td> - <td class="tdr">513</td> - <td class="tdr">1,243</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl">Bituminous</td> - <td class="tdr">301</td> - <td class="tdr">656</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdl"> Total</td> - <td class="tdr">814</td> - <td class="tdr">1,899</td> - </tr> - </tbody> -</table> - -<p>When we pass from the record of particular industries to the general -casualty record we are met by a mass of unintelligible figures. -Bulletin No. 83 gives the rate of fatal accidents in the cities wherein -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> -registration is required as 100.3 in each 100,000 of population. -For the whole registration record the rate is 96.3. On a basis of -80,000,000 population this would mean a yearly loss of from 77,040 to -80,240 lives. Mr. Frederick L. Hoffman, of the Prudential Insurance -Company, in a letter printed in Mr. Robert Hunter’s recent volume, -“Poverty,” estimates the rate as between 80 and 85 per 100,000. This -would mean from 64,000 to 68,000 killings. “If we say that twenty-five -are injured to every one killed, and consider ... the fatal accident -rate to be 80 in every 100,000, we have it that 1,664,000 persons -are annually killed or more or less seriously injured in the United -States. If all minor accidents were taken into consideration, it is -probable that the ratio of non-fatal accidents to fatal accidents would -be nearly 100 to 1.” This would mean approximately 4,800,000 minor -woundings every year.</p> - -<p>We cannot separate, on the basis of present figures, the fatal -accidents which would be inevitable under any form of society and those -which are consequent upon the present capitalist system of production, -with its brutal indifference to life. We can only estimate. We have, -for instance, in the census reports, an entry of “burns and scalds,” -but nothing about boiler explosions; we have a certain number of -deaths from drowning, but we are not told whether they occurred in -frightful disasters like mine floods or the destruction of a <i>General -Slocum</i>—for which capitalist industry is solely responsible—or -in accidents wherein the individual’s whim or caprice alone was -responsible. And finally we have an appalling record of suicides; but -in how many of these business troubles or other economic causes were -the impelling motives for self-destruction we cannot tell.</p> - -<p>What we do know is that the overwhelming number of the fatalities -that all of us learn of, instance by instance, are due to economic -causes; that railroad, factory and mining accidents are for the most -part needless, and due almost entirely to the brutal indifference of -capital to the lives of the workers, and that far the greater number of -suicides of which we read or hear are of beings who have been sent to -death through economic troubles. Under the benign reign of capitalist -industry we have a yearly list of fatalities somewhere between 64,000 -and 80,240 and of serious maimings of 1,600,000, whereas two great -armies, employing all the enginery of warfare, could succeed in -slaughtering only 62,112 human beings yearly.</p> - -<p>It is time we heard less of the butchery of war; time we heard more -of the butchery of peace. And yet it is doubtful if we shall hear a -different strain from those now most prominently before the public as -advocates of peace. The advocacy of peace, in so far as it emanates -from the retainers and other beneficiaries of the capitalist class, is -based not so much upon humanitarian grounds as upon the ground that the -worker is serving a more useful purpose when mangled in the Holy War -of Trade than when slaughtered in armed conflict. It is the waste of -profits on human labor, rather than the waste of life, that most deeply -affects them. They are not always conscious of this, because they -instinctively identify their moral notions with the material interests -of the class they serve. But an unconscious or subconscious motive may -be the most powerful of impulses to speech and action. And thus there -is every reason to believe that we shall continue to hear the horrors -of war most loudly denounced by the very ones who keep most silent -regarding the horrors of industrial “peace.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="blockquot">It is curious how fond men grow of each other when -they are making money together. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="REMEMBERED" id="REMEMBERED"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Remembered</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-below1">BY ELLA WHEELER WILCOX</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="bigfont">H</span>IS art was loving. Eros set his sign<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon that youthful forehead, and he drew<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The hearts of women, as the sun draws dew.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love feeds love’s thirst as wine feeds love of wine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor is there any potion from the vine<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which makes men drunken, like the subtle brew,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of kisses crushed by kisses; and he grew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Inebriated with that draught divine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet in his sober moments, when the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of radiant summer paled to lonely fall<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And passion’s sea had grown an ebbing tide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From out the many Memory singled one<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Full cup that seemed the sweetest of them all—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The warm, red mouth that mocked him and denied!<br /></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="MARTYR" id="MARTYR"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Martyrdom</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-below1">BY LEONARD CHARLES VAN NOPPEN</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="bigfont">T</span>HE world cries loud for blood; for never grew<br /></span> -<span class="i2">One saving truth that blossomed, man to bless,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That withered not in barren loneliness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till watered by the sacrificial dew.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Behold the prophets stoned—the while they blew<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A warning blast—the sad immortal guess<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of Socrates—the thorn-crowned lowliness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Christ! And that black cross our Lincoln knew!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tis only through the whirlwind and the storm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That man can ever reach his starry goal;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Someone must bleed or else the world will die.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon the flaring altar of reform<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some heart lies quivering ever. To what soul<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That dares be true, comes not the martyr’s agony?<br /></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="f120"><i>The Debt</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">BORROWBY—By Jove, old man! I owe you an everlasting -debt of gratitude!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Grimshaw</span>—No, you don’t, Borrowby! -You owe me fifty dollars in money. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="GULDBERG" id="GULDBERG"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The Heroism of Admiral Guldberg</i></h2></div> - -<p class="f90">THE MOST AMAZING NAVAL BATTLE EVER FOUGHT</p> - -<p class="center space-above1 space-below1">BY ROBERT BARR</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">WE must not allow the thunder of the guns around Port Arthur -to deaden our ears to accounts of heroism in the past. Other admirals have -attacked fortified strongholds before Togo was heard of. Other admirals -have striven for the command of the sea before Alexieff blundered into -a war for which he was not ready. I record the capable strenuousness of -Admiral Guldberg, who strove to defend a country not his own, and did -the best he could with the materials provided him.</p> - -<p>Ajax defied the lightning, and Guldberg defied the French, possessors -of the second most powerful navy afloat. Therefore three cheers for old -Guldberg and more power to his elbow.</p> - -<p>A dozen years ago, when Siam resolved to take its place among the -great nations of the earth, that country imported from Europe certain -men who were supposed to know how to do things. An Englishman from -Oxford endeavored to evolve a school system; a German from Krupp’s -establishment was made head of the Royal railway department, although -there were no railways at that time in the country to look after; -still, as there was no education either, he started fair with the -Englishman. Another German looked after telegraphs, and he also had a -clean slate to begin on. The reconstruction of the army and navy was -intrusted to the care of a pair of Danes, notable fighters of yore and -master mariners, as all the world knows. Commodore de Richelieu had -been a Danish officer, and it would have astonished the cardinal of -that name to have seen him fighting against the French. De Richelieu -had charge of the forts, and the training of the men to defend them. -Admiral Guldberg commanded the fleet, and endeavored with indifferent -success to teach the Siamese something about navigation.</p> - -<p>In 1893, while these useful Danes were endeavoring to put some backbone -into Siamese incompetency, the diplomatic services of France and Siam -began sending picture post-cards to each other. Diplomacy is invariably -polite, but when it takes a hand in the game, prepare for squalls. -Although I have the Blue-books before me relating to this tragic -occurrence, I am quite unable to determine the rights of the case. -Probably France and Siam were both in the wrong, but be that as it may, -France persisted in her intention, little dreaming that right round the -bend of the river Admiral Guldberg was waiting for her. The rights and -wrongs in these affairs depend a great deal on the power of the other party.</p> - -<p>I imagine if France wished to send two gunboats up the Hudson River, -and the President of the United States ordered the war vessels to -proceed no further than New York Bay, France might perhaps have -considered herself in the wrong, and the war vessels would not have -proceeded; but as the other party in the case under consideration was -merely the helpless kingdom of Siam, it is a historical fact that the -two members of the French fleet, <i>Inconstant</i> and <i>Comète</i>, crossed -the Rubicon; in other words, the bar—and entered the River Me-nam against -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> -the current and the wishes of His Majesty of Siam; and this took place -on that unlucky day, the thirteenth of July, 1893.</p> - -<p>Paknam was the Port Arthur in this instance. It lies three miles from -the mouth of the river and thirty miles by water south of the capital, -Bangkok, although on the opposite bank of the stream a railway sixteen -miles in length runs into the capital. At Paknam everything was -prepared for a desperate resistance. The forts were well manned and the -cannon were loaded. Commodore de Richelieu was in command, glad that -diplomacy had broken down, as it usually does, and that now military -renown was to be his. The Siamese soldiers have one defect: they -believe in the couplet that “he who fights and runs away will live to -fight another day.” Indeed, they better the lines, and run away before -even showing fight. Thus, in all the wars Siam has engaged in she has -never lost a man, just as if she were the Cunard line of steamers.</p> - -<p>When the Siamese soldiers realized that their gallant Commodore was -actually going to fire off the guns, they unanimously got over the -garden wall with a celerity that amazed the man from Denmark. Nothing -daunted, the resolute de Richelieu held the fort, and himself fired off -the guns one after another. When this cannonade had been accomplished -he was helpless, for he could not reload without assistance, so he got -himself into a steam launch, sailed across the river and took train to -Bangkok.</p> - -<p>Authorities differ as to the result of the Commodore’s cannon fire. One -says that several Frenchmen were killed and wounded, another that no -harm was done. So far as I am aware the French gunboat made no reply, -but steamed majestically up the river, while their enemy was steaming -with equal majesty on a special engine over the rocky road to Bangkok.</p> - -<p>While the French fleet was proceeding toward a peril of which they had -not the slightest suspicion, we have time to consider the equipment of -Admiral Guldberg, who will not be so easily got rid of as his -countryman, the Commodore.</p> - -<p>Three years before there had been built at Hong Kong a steam yacht for -His Excellency the Governor of the Philippines, which at that time -was under Spanish rule. When the yacht was finished the Governor of -course wanted it, but wished to pay on the instalment plan, whereas -the builders said they were not engaged in the three years’ hire -system business, and having some acquaintance with Spanish financial -arrangements, they declined to deliver the goods except on a basis -of cash down. Such a hard money determination was enough to knock -the bottom out of any negotiation with a Spanish official, so the -Governor folded his toga proudly about him, and in the purest Castilian -practically repeated the words of the old song to the effect that the -yacht might go to Hong Kong for him, which it did not need to do, being -there already. So in Hong Kong it remained, until in ’91 an emissary of -the Siamese Government bought it, and took it round to Bangkok.</p> - -<p>The Siamese armed this terrific vessel with old muzzle-loading cannons -that had hitherto occupied the position of corner posts of various -compounds about the capital. The boat had been intended for pleasure -and not for war, so there were no portholes for the muzzles of the -guns. This difficulty was got over by building a low deck-house the -length of the vessel, and placing the cannon athwart this structure, -one pointing to port, another to starboard, another to port, another -to starboard, and so on, the ordnance being chained down, or roped or -tied with string, so that it would not cause the yacht to tumble a -somersault when fired. The arrangement had the advantage of economy, as -no gun-carriages were needed, and as the cannon could be loaded from -the deck. But there was also the drawback, which perhaps would have -been felt more in any other navy than that of Siam, which consisted of -the fact that you could not aim the cannon at anything in particular. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> -Still, a gunner might have much enjoyment in shooting at the landscape -in general. A British naval officer of large experience stated -solemnly that he never understood the horrors of warfare until he saw -this vessel. The arrangement of the cannon made the craft somewhat -top-heavy, and so the authorities wisely ordained that she was never to -put to sea where the waves might upset the apple cart.</p> - -<p>As if the cannon were not enough, her name was one likely to strike -terror into the heart of the stoutest enemy. She was called the <i>Makut -Rajakumar</i>, and she was listed in the naval annals of Siam as a small -cruiser. This sea-dog of war was the flagship of Admiral Guldberg, -commanded and captained by the Dane himself, with a full crew of twenty-seven -fighting Siamese, not to mention two engineers and four stokers.</p> - -<p>The French pretend that two vessels opposed the coming of their two -warships, and while this is technically true, it is not actually so, -and as the statement tends to detract from the undoubted bravery of -Admiral Guldberg, it may as well be stated that the second vessel was -a small steam scow which carried only one gun, whose muzzle projected -overboard where the bowsprit is on a sailing vessel, and because -the gun was stationary there, chained there as were those on the -<i>Makut Rajakumar</i>, it could be loaded only when the scow was moored -to a wharf. This barge was commanded by Captain Schmieglow. His crew -deserted him in a body before she left the wharf, and as the good -Captain did not understand the engine he contented himself with firing -the cannon down the river, which concussion so dislocated the machinery -that the scow ran her nozzle agin’ the bank of the opposite shore, and -there the Captain was helpless. So his Admiral had to fight the battle -alone.</p> - -<p>Again French historians maintain that their warships never fired a shot -at the floating lunatic asylum which assailed them, and it is also -stated that the Admiral’s cannon balls never touched them. That may all -be true enough, but it in no way interferes with my assertion that -Admiral Guldberg did the very best he could with the material in hand, -and that he put up one of the finest fights ever recorded in the -history of the sea.</p> - -<p>And now we come to the battle, and as the French had a certain hand -in it, the stirring lines of French Canada’s poet, Dr. Drummond, may -fittingly be quoted to open the strife.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One dark night on Lake St. Pierre,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The wind she blow, blow, blow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the crew of the wood scow <i>Julia Plante</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2">Got scared and ran below.<br /></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p>The unfortunate occurrence which ultimately wrecked the <i>Julia Plante</i> -happened also on board the <i>Makut Rajakumar</i>. The moment the French war -vessels appeared the entire crew of the Siamese cruiser dived below, -bewailing their lot, and leaving Admiral Guldberg alone on deck. The -helmsman deserted the wheel, and the engineer his engine. The French -fleet was still some distance to the southward, so the Admiral rushed -after his craven crew, and kicked most of them aloft again, wild Danish -oaths from his lips keeping time to the energetic swaying of his foot, -commanding them to stand by the guns. It was no use; with a yell of -terror they again descended, falling over each other down into the -hold. The Admiral ran to the wheel, swerved his vessel; then let go the -spokes, seized a lighted torch, and fired the port side cannons one -after another. Back he dashed to the wheel again, turned his boat up -the river, for the Frenchmen were now passing him, fled again to the -unfired guns and gave the French the second broadside.</p> - -<p>Now, to his horror, he saw that the French ships, better engined than -his own, were leaving him without firing a shot, and from the prow he -shook his fist at them, daring them to stand up to him, but neither the -mouth of man nor the mouth of cannon made answer.</p> - -<p>Flinging his cocked hat to the deck, and tossing his laced coat on top -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> -of it, rolling up his sleeves and seizing the rammer, he swabbed out -the old cannon, and reloaded, while the decrepit engine, unattended, -jogged away up the river after the rapidly disappearing French -warships. That task accomplished, he cast his eye ahead and saw the -river was clear, so sprang down into the stokehold, and sent a few -shovelfuls of coal under the boiler, then came on deck again wiping -his perspiring brow. By this time the French boats were quite out of -gunshot, and the only consolation left for the courageous Dane was that -at least he was chasing them.</p> - -<p>At this most inopportune moment there arose a galling and Gallic laugh -from a coasting schooner lying at anchor in the river. It is never -advisable to laugh at an exasperated man, as these hilarious mariners -were soon to learn. Slow as the <i>Makut</i> was she could certainly -outstrip a small French coasting vessel at anchor. The angry Admiral -turned his red face toward the Sound, and saw before him the <i>J. B. -Say</i>, a French trading craft, tauntingly flying the tricolor at the -masthead. The infuriated Admiral remembered that his adopted country was -at war with this hated emblem, so he roared across the muddy waters:</p> - -<p>“Haul down that flag and surrender!”</p> - -<p>The crew replied with the French equivalent of “Go to thunder!” which -the Admiral at once proceeded to obey. He ran to the wheel, steered his -steamer in a semicircle, headed her down the river and sprang to the -guns. Thunder spoke out the first cannon, and missed. Thunder again the -second, with an after crash of woodwork, the ball carrying away part of -the bulwarks.</p> - -<p>“Stop it, you madman!” shrieked the crew.</p> - -<p>“Surrender!” roared the Admiral, but they were now working madly at the -windlass, trying to hoist the anchor. The <i>Makut Rajakumar</i> had passed -the boat, and now the Admiral took to the wheel again, swooped around, -and came on with his other battery. The first shot struck fair in the -prow, and the second, to the consternation of the Frenchmen, hit just -at the waterline, tearing a fatal hole in the timber. The third shot -went wide, and the Admiral allowed his steamer to forge ahead while he -swabbed out the guns and reloaded them.</p> - -<p>By the time this was finished and he had turned round again the <i>J. B. -Say</i> was under way, but with a dangerous list to one side. The steamer -speedily overtook her, and crash! crash! went the guns again, and once -more she was struck in a tender place, which was quite unnecessary, for -the craft was palpably sinking, in spite of the efforts of four men at -the pumps.</p> - -<p>At last the heated Admiral ceased fire, for the Frenchmen, taking -to the longboat, had abandoned their vessel, and were rowing for -the shore. The <i>J. B. Say</i> with a wobble or two settled down and -disappeared beneath the surface of the muddy Me-nam. Admiral Guldberg -descended to the engine-room, stopped the engines, and kicked the -engineer into some sense of his duties aboard the cruiser. He informed -his huddled naval brigade, who were scared almost white by the firing, -that the Battle of Paknam had ended gloriously for the Siamese flag, -after which announcement he urged them on deck by means of boot and -fist. As there was nothing visible to frighten the crew, the Admiral -himself being the only object of terror in the neighborhood, discipline -once more resumed its sway. The engineer responded to the tinkle of the -bell, and the cruiser <i>Makut Rajakumar</i> began pounding its way up to -the capital, pausing only to capture the French flag which fluttered -from the masthead of the sunken <i>J. B. Say</i>.</p> - -<p>Admiral Guldberg steamed in triumph to Bangkok, but had to take the -wheel himself when the town was sighted, for the moment his crew caught -a glimpse of the French cruiser floating peacefully in front of the -embassy, they promptly went below again, as was the custom of Sir -Joseph Porter when the breezes began to blow. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> - -<p>It would be joyful to add that Admiral Guldberg received the -recognition he deserved, but it is hardly necessary to state that -such was not the fact. The Siamese Government apologized abjectly for -their Admiral and his action. They said he had fired without orders. -The Minister of Foreign Affairs congratulated the commander of the -French ship <i>Inconstant</i> on his boldness and daring in forcing a way -to Bangkok. The owners of the <i>J. B. Say</i> were lavishly compensated. -Admiral Guldberg was degraded to plain captain, and the government had -little difficulty in proving that no Siamese obstructed the advance of -the French, which statement was true enough.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div><a name="FABLE" id="FABLE"> </a></div> -<p class="f120"><i>A Sociological Fable</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">THERE was trouble in the Poultry yard; things were Changed -from the way they had been, so that it was becoming Hard for some of the Fowls -to get a Sufficiency of Food. Just as much Corn was being Scattered -by the Farmer’s Wife as formerly, but some Knowing Cocks had built -Wide-mouthed Funnels over the Heads of the other Fowls, so that much of -the Supply that was intended for the Whole Community was diverted to the -Knowing Cocks and their Broods.</p> - -<p>There was much Discontent because of the Scarcity of Food and many -were the Plans that were Broached to remedy the Situation. “See!” said -a Great Goose, pointing to the Supplies that lay beneath the Funnels -of the Knowing Cocks, “how unjust it is that some should have so much -and others so little. The Knowing Cocks and their Broods can never use -up their supply, while I and my Green Goslings go Hungry. Can nothing -be done to help me?” he squawked, raising his Unseemly Voice in order -to attract general attention. “Can nothing be done for me and for my family?”</p> - -<p>At this many Quacks began to be heard. One said that the Supplies of -the Knowing Cocks ought to be Seized and Distributed equally in the -Community; another said that the Knowing Cocks ought to be Forced to -Exchange their Corn with the other Fowls, in the Proportion of Sixteen -Grains of that Held by the Knowing Cocks to each grain belonging to the -other Fowls. And another insisted that the Only way to Right the Wrong -was to Compel the Knowing Cocks to Contribute to a Common Fund a large -Part of the Excess that Reached them through their Funnels.</p> - -<p>But at last a Sage Hen, that had somehow found her way into the -Community, succeeded in Making herself Heard: “Of what use is it,” -she Cried, “to ask how Many Pounds of Cure are needed, when one Ounce -of Prevention will Suffice? Let us Go to the Fountain Head of the -Wrong,” she continued, Pointing to the Funnels. “As long as Some of -the Community are Allowed to be in Possession of Undue Opportunities, -Evil must happen to the others. Take the Funnels away from the Knowing Cocks!”</p> - -<p>No sooner said than Done. The Funnels were Seized and Destroyed; and -thereafter the Corn that fell from the Hand of the Farmer’s Wife was -Equitably distributed in the Community.</p> - -<p class="f120 space-above2">MORAL</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If on the road a traveler lies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fast bound—and you should see him—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Don’t take his head upon your lap<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And give him medicine and pap,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But cut his cords and free him.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i19"><span class="smcap">F. P. Williams</span>.<br /></span> -</div></div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="TRAIN" id="TRAIN"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The Old 10.30 Train</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-below1">BY MARION DRACE</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="bigfont">I</span>T’S raining out again tonight,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A dismal, pelting rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That drives against my window<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With a dripping, and again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a rattling stormy fury,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sheets of water, waves of gray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Made gruesome by the thunder<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the lightning’s livid play.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It brings to me the gloom of life,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An odd, most welcome pain,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And once again the whistle of the old 10.30 train.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With all this storm without, and me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So silent here alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With all the distant past in view,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Its evil to atone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With chin on hand, I wonder how<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’d feel if I could be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A boy again, with mother near<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Me praying at her knee.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How all the cares of life would fade,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">If I could hear again<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From out my cot the whistle of the old 10.30 train.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I hear it far departing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This gloomy night and me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A-joying in the dying wail<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From which it seems to flee.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The long, low cry is wafted back<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through night and rain and wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A cry that seems congenial like<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Another soul that’s sinned.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It makes me long for home and for<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My cot, so cleanly plain,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To doze just with the whistle of that old 10.30 train.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah, life is not of solitude,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor childhood joys alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its mirth not all departed, though<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We reap the evil sown.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But nights of rain and solitude<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bring back the happy past—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The freight that came so regular<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My eyes to close at last.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From all the now I quick would flee—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It seems so full of pain—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">If I could sleep forever with that whistle’s wail again!<br /> - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="GALLOWS" id="GALLOWS"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak">Gallows Gate</h2></div> - -<p class="f90">BEING AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF DICK RYDER, OTHERWISE<br /> -GALLOPING DICK, SOMETIME GENTLEMAN OF THE ROAD</p> - -<p class="center space-above1 space-below1">BY H. B. MARRIOTT-WATSON</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">’TWAS two o’clock of a bright wild March day that I -cleared St. Leonard’s Forest, and came out upon the roads at the back of Horsham. -I was for Reading, but chose that way by reason of the better security -it promised, which, as it chanced, was a significant piece of irony. -Horsham, a mighty quiet, pretty town, lay in a blaze of the sun, -enduring the sallies of a dusty wind, and, feeling hot and athirst -after my long ride, I pulled up at an inn and dismounted.</p> - -<p>“Host,” says I, when I was come it; “a pint of your best Burgundy or -Canary to wash this dust adown; and rip me if I will not have it laced -with brandy.”</p> - -<p>“Why, sir,” says he, “a cold bright day for horseback,” -and shakes his head.</p> - -<p>“Damme, you’re right,” says I. “Cold i’ the belly and hot in the groin. -Here’s luck to the house, man,” and I tossed off the gallipot. “Why, -goodman, ye’ll make your fortune on this,” I said with a derisive -laugh, and flung open the door, to go out; when all of a sudden I came -to silence and a pause.</p> - -<p>“’Tis the officers,” says the landlord, who was at my ear. “Gadslife, -’tis the sheriff’s men from Lewes.”</p> - -<p>“Lewes!” says I slowly; “what be they here for?”</p> - -<p>“Why,” says he in a flutter, “there was him that was taken for a -tobyman by Guilford. He was tried at Lewes, and will hang.”</p> - -<p>“If he be fool enough to be taken, let him be hanged and be damned,” -says I carelessly.</p> - -<p>When I was got upon my horse I began to go at a walk down the High -street, for though, as was according to nature, I was inquisitive -about the matter, I was too wary to adventure ere I was sure of my -ground. And this denial of unnecessary hazards, as is my custom, saved -me from a mishap; for as the procession wound along, the traps and -the carriage between ’em, there was one of them that turned his head -aside to give an order, and, rip me if ’twas not that muckworm, traitor -and canter, the thief-taker, Timothy Grubbe. I had an old score with -Timothy, the which I had sworn to pay; but that was not the time nor -the opportunity, and so I pulled in and lowered my head, lest by chance -his evil eye might go my way. As I did so, something struck on the -mare’s rump, and, looking back, I saw a young man on horseback that had -emerged from a side street.</p> - -<p>“Whoa, there,” says I cheerfully. “Are you so blinded by March dust as -not to see a gentleman when he goes by?”</p> - -<p>He was a slight, handsome-looking youth, of a frank face but of a -rustic appearance, and he stammered out an apology.</p> - -<p>“Why, I did but jest,” I said heartily. “Think no more on’t, -particularly as ’twas my fault to have checked the mare of a sudden. -But to say the truth I was gaping at the grand folks yonder.” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> - -<p>He stared, after the traps and says he in an interested voice: “Who be -they? Is it my Lord Blackdown?”</p> - -<p>Now this comparison of that wry-necked, pock-faced villain Grubbe to a -person of quality tickled me, but I answered, keeping a straight face.</p> - -<p>“Well, not exactly,” says I, “not my lord, but another that should -stand or hang as high maybe, and shall some day.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” says he, gazing at me, “a friend of yours, sir?”</p> - -<p>He was a ruddy color, and his mouth was habitually a little open, -giving him an expression of perpetual wonder and innocence; so that, -bless you, I knew him at once for what he was at heart—a simple fellow -of a natural kindliness and one of no experience in the world, and a -pretty dull wit.</p> - -<p>“Not as you might call him, a friend,” said I gravely, “but rather one -that has put an affront upon me.”</p> - -<p>“You should wipe it out, sir,” says this innocent seriously. “I would -allow no man to put an affront on me, gad, I would not!”</p> - -<p>“Why,” said I drily, “I bide my time, being, if I may say so, of less -mustard and pepper than yourself. Nevertheless it shall be wiped out to -the last stain.”</p> - -<p>“Gad, I like that spirit,” says he briskly, and, as if it constituted -a bond betwixt us, he began to amble slowly at my side. “If there is -any mischief, sir,” says he, “I trust you will allow me to stand your friend.”</p> - -<p>Here was innocence indeed, yet I could ha’ clapped him on the back for -a buck of good-fellowship and friendliness, and, relaxing my tone, I -turned the talk on himself.</p> - -<p>“You are for a journey?” says I.</p> - -<p>He nodded, and his color rose, but he frowned. -“I am for Effingham,” he answered.</p> - -<p>“So am I,” said I, “at least I pass that way,” which was not so, for -I was for Reading, and had meant to go by Guilford. Yet I was in no -mind to risk an encounter with Grubbe and his lambs, who were bound for -Guilford if what the innkeeper said was true; and the way by Effingham -would serve me as well as another.</p> - -<p>He looked pleased, and says he: “Why, we will travel in company.”</p> - -<p>“With all my heart!”</p> - -<p>The traps had disappeared upon the Guilford road in a mist of dust, and -we jogged on comfortably till we came to cross-roads, where we turned -away for Slinfold, reaching that village near by two of the clock. -Here my companion must slake his thirst, and I was nothing loath. He -had a gentlemanly air about him for all his rustic habit, and very -pleasantly, if with some awkwardness, offered me of a bottle.</p> - -<p>“You mind me,” said I, drinking to him, for I liked the fellow, “of a -lad that I knew that was in the wars.”</p> - -<p>“Was you in the wars?” asks he eagerly.</p> - -<p>I had meant the wars of the road, which, indeed, are as perilous and as -venturesome as the high quarrels of ravening nations.</p> - -<p>“I served in Flanders,” said I.</p> - -<p>“My father fought for His Gracious Majesty Charles I,” says he quickly, -“and took a deep wound at Marston Moor. There was never a braver man -than Squire Masters of Rockham.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll warrant his son is like him,” said I.</p> - -<p>He bowed as if he were at Court. “Your servant, sir,” says he, smiling -well pleased, and eyed me. “You have seen some service, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Why, as much as will serve, Mr. Masters.”</p> - -<p>He looked at me shyly. “You have my name, now?” said he, and left his -question in the air.</p> - -<p>“You may call me Ryder,” said I.</p> - -<p>“You have had your company?” he went on in a hesitating voice.</p> - -<p>“Not always as good company as this,” I replied, laughing.</p> - -<p>“I knew it,” he said eagerly; “you are Captain Ryder?”</p> - -<p>“There have been those that have put that style on me,” I answered, -amused at his persistence.</p> - -<p>“I am glad that I have met you, Captain,” said this young fool, and put -his arm in mine quite affectionately. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I have been unhappily kept much at home, and have seen less than I -might of things beyond the hills. Not but what Sussex is a fine shire,” -he adds, with a sigh.</p> - -<p>“Why, it is fine if so be your home be there,” I replied.</p> - -<p>“My home is there,” he said, and paused, and again the frown wrinkled -up his brow.</p> - -<p>He said no more till we were in the saddle again and had gone some half -a mile, and then he spoke, and I knew his poor brain had been playing -pitch and toss with some thought.</p> - -<p>“Captain Ryder,” he said abruptly, “you have traveled far and seen -much. You might advise one junior to you on a matter of worldly wisdom.”</p> - -<p>Sink me, thinks I, what’s the boy after? But, says I gravely, from a -mutinous face: “You can hang your faith on me for an opinion or a blow, -Mr. Masters.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” says he heartily, and then thrust a hand into his -bosom and rapidly stuck at me a document. “Read that, sir,” said he -impulsively.</p> - -<p>I opened it, and found ’twas writ in a woman’s hand, and subscribed -Anne Varley; and the marrow of it was fond affection.</p> - -<p>Why, ’twas but a common love billet he had given me, of the which I -have seen dozens and received very many—some from persons of quality -that would astonish you. But what had I to do with this honest ninny -and his mistress? I had no nose for it, and so said I, handing him back -his letter.</p> - -<p>“It has a sweet smack and ’tis pretty enough inditing.”</p> - -<p>“Ah,” says he quickly, “’tis her nature, Captain. ’Tis her heart that -speaks. Yet is she denied by her parents. They will have none of me.”</p> - -<p>“The more to their shame,” I said.</p> - -<p>“They aspire high,” says he, “as Anne’s beauty and virtues of -themselves would justify. Yet she does love me, and I her, and we are -of one spirit and heart. See you how she loves me, poor thing, poor -silly puss! And they would persuade her to renunciation. But she shall -not—she shall not; I swear it!” he cried in excitement. “She shall be -free to choose where she will.”</p> - -<p>“Spoke like a man of temper,” said I approvingly. “You will go -win her forthright.”</p> - -<p>“I am on my journey to accomplish that now,” says he. “She has writ -in this letter, as you have seen, that her father dissuades her, and -she sighs her renunciation, adding sweet words of comfort that her -affection will not die—no, never, never, and that she will die virgin -for me. Say you not, sir, that this is beautiful conduct, and, am I not -right to ride forth and seize her from her unnatural parents, to make -her mine?”</p> - -<p>“Young gentleman,” said I, being stirred by his honest sincerity and -his bubbling over, “were you brother to me, or I to Mistress Anne, you -should have my blessing.”</p> - -<p>At that he glowed, and his spirits having risen with this -communication, he babbled on the road of many things cheerfully, -but mostly of love and beauty, and the virtues of Mistress Anne of -Effingham Manor.</p> - -<p>I will confess that after a time his prattle wearied me; ’twas too much -honey and cloyed my palate. If he had known as much of the sex as has -fallen to my lot he would have taken another stand, and sung in a lower key.</p> - -<p>Well, ’twas late in the afternoon when we reached the hills beyond -Ewhurst, and began to climb the rugged way to the top. The wind had -gone down with the sun in a flurry of gold in the west, to which that -eastern breeze had beat all day; and over the head of Pitch Hill last -year’s heather still blazed in its decay.</p> - -<p>When we had got to the Windmill Inn, that lies packed into the side of -the wooded hill, we descended for refreshment, and I saw the horses -stalled below for baiting. Now that house, little and quiet, perches -in a lonely way in the pass of the hill, and upon one side the ground -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> -falls so fast away that the eye carries over a precipitous descent -toward the weald of Surrey and the dim hills by the sea. And this view -was fading swiftly in the window under a bleak sky as Masters and I -ate of our dinner in the upstairs room that looked upon it. He had a -natural grace of mind despite the rawness of his behavior, and his -sentiments emerged sometimes in a gush, as when, says he, looking at -the darkening weald:</p> - -<p>“I love it, Captain. ’Tis mine. My home is there, and, God willing, -Anne’s too shall be.”</p> - -<p>“Amen!” said I heartily, for the boy had gone to my heart, absurd -though he was.</p> - -<p>And just on that there was a noise without the door, the clank of heavy -feet rang on the boards, and Timothy Grubbe’s ugly mask disfigured the room.</p> - -<p>He came forward a little with a grin on his distorted features, and, -looking from one to the other of us, said he:</p> - -<p>“My respects, Captain, and to this young plover that no doubt ye’re -plucking. By the Lord, Dick Ryder, but I had given you up. Heaven sends -us good fortune when we’re least thinking of it.”</p> - -<p>Masters, at his word, had started up. “Who are you, sir, that intrudes -on two gentlemen?” he demanded with spirit. “I’ll have you know this is -a private room. Get you gone!”</p> - -<p>“Softly, man,” says Grubbe, in an insinuating voice. “Maybe I’m wrong -and you’re two of a color. Is it an apprentice, Dick, this brave lad -that talks so bold and has such fine feathers?”</p> - -<p>“If you do not quit,” said I shortly, “I will spit your beauty for you -in two ticks.”</p> - -<p>“Dick Ryder had always plenty of heart,” said he in his jeering way. -“Dick had always a famous wit, and was known as a hospitable host. So I -will take the liberty to invite to his sociable board some good fellows -that are below, to make merry. We shall prove an excellent company, -I’ll warrant.”</p> - -<p>Masters took a step toward him.</p> - -<p>“Now, who the devil soever you may be, you shall not use gentlemen so,” -he cried, whipping out his blade.</p> - -<p>But Grubbe turned on him satirically. “As for you, young cockchafer,” -said he, “it bodes no good to find you in this company. But as you seem -simpleton enough, I’ll give you five minutes to take your leave of -this gentleman of the road. Dick, you’re a fine tobyman, and you have -enjoyed a brave career, but, damme, your hour is struck.”</p> - -<p>I rose, but, ere I could get to him, young Masters had fallen on him.</p> - -<p>“Defend yourself, damn ye,” he said, “you that insult a gentleman that -is my friend! Put up your blade!” and he made at him with incredible -energy.</p> - -<p>Uttering a curse Grubbe thrust out his point and took the first onrush, -swerving it aside; and ere I could intervene they were at it.</p> - -<p>My young friend was impetuous, and as I saw at once, none too skilful; -and Grubbe kept his temper, as he always did. He stood with a thin, -ugly smile pushing aside his opponent’s blade for a moment or two, -until, of a sudden, he drew himself up and let drive very low and under -the other’s guard. The sword rattled from Masters’s hand, and he went -down on the floor. I uttered an oath.</p> - -<p>“By God, for this shall you die, you swine!” said I fiercely; and I ran -at him; but, being by the door, he swept it open with a movement and -backed into the passage.</p> - -<p>“The boot is on t’other leg, Dick,” says he maliciously. “’Tis you are -doomed!” and closing the door behind him he whistled shrilly.</p> - -<p>I knew what he intended, and that his men were there, but I stooped -over the boy’s body and held my fingers to his heart. ’Twas dead and -still. I cursed Grubbe and started up. If I was not to be taken there -was only the window, looking on the deeps of the descending valley. I -threw back the casement and leaped over the sill. Grubbe should perish, -I swore, and I doubled now my oath. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> - -<p>I could ha’ wept for that poor youth that had died to avenge my honor. -But my first business was my safety, and I crept down as far as I might -and dropped. By that time the catchpolls were crowding into the room -above. I struck the slanting hill and fell backward, but, getting to -my feet, which were very numb with the concussion of the fall, I sped -briskly into the darkness, making for the woods.</p> - -<p>I lay in their shelter an hour, and then resolved on a circumspection. -’Twas not my intention to leave the mare behind, if so be she had -escaped Grubbe and his creatures; and, moreover, I had other designs in -my head. So I made my way back deviously to the inn and reconnoitered. -Stillness hung about it, and after a time I marched up to the door -cautiously and knocked on it.</p> - -<p>The innkeeper opened it, and, the lamp burning on my face, started as -if I were the devil.</p> - -<p>“Hush, man!” said I. “Is the officer gone?”</p> - -<p>He looked at me dubiously and trembling. “Come,” said I, for I knew the -reputation of those parts, “I am from Shoreham Gap yonder, and I was -near taken for an offense against the revenue.”</p> - -<p>“You are a smuggler?” said he anxiously. “They said you were a tobyman.”</p> - -<p>“They will take away any decent man’s name,” said I. “I want my horse. -You have no fancy for preventive men, I’ll guess.”</p> - -<p>And this was true enough, for he had a mine of cellars under his inn -and through the roadway.</p> - -<p>“But your friend?” said he, still wavering. “Him that is dead——”</p> - -<p>“As good a man as ever rolled a barrel,” said I.</p> - -<p>He relaxed his grip of the door. “’Tis a sore business for me this -night,” he complained.</p> - -<p>“Nay,” said I. “For I will rid your premises of myself and friend, by -your leave, or without it,” says I.</p> - -<p>He seemed relieved at that, and I entered. The horses were safe, as I -discovered, for Grubbe must have been too full of his own prime -business to make search, and, getting them out, I made my preparations. -I strapped the lad’s body in the stirrups, so that he lay forward on -the horse with his head a-wagging; but (God deliver him!) his soul at -rest. And presently we were on the road, and threading the wilderness -of the black pine woods for the vale below toward London.</p> - -<p>The moon was a glimmering arc across the Hurtwood as I came out on the -back of Shere, and, pulling out of the long lane that gave entry to -the village, reined up by the “White Horse.” From the inn streamed a -clamor of laughter, and without the doorway and wellnigh blocking it -was drawn up a carriage with a coachman on his seat that struck my eyes -dimly in the small light. I was not for calling eyes on me with a dead -man astride his horse, so I moved into the yard, thinking to drain a -tankard of ale if no better, before I took the road over the downs to -Effingham. But I was scarce turned into the yard ere a light flaring -through the window poured on a face that changed all the notions in my -skull. ’Twas Grubbe!</p> - -<p>Leaving the horses by I returned to the front of the inn, and says I to -the coachman that waited there, as I rapped loud on the door:</p> - -<p>“’Tis shrewish tonight.”</p> - -<p>“Aye,” says he in a grumbling, surly voice. “I would the country were -in hell.”</p> - -<p>“Why, so ’twill be in good time,” said I cheerfully; and then to the -man that came, “Fetch me two quarts well laced with gin,” says I, “for -to keep the chill of the night and the fear o’ death out.”</p> - -<p>The coachman laughed a little shortly, for he knew that this was his -invitation.</p> - -<p>“Whence come you then?” said I, delivering him the pot that was fetched -out.</p> - -<p>He threw an arm out. “Lewes,” said he, “under charge with a tobyman -that was for chains yonder.”</p> - -<p>He nodded toward the downs and drank. I cast my eyes up and the loom of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> -the hill just t’other side of the village was black and ominous.</p> - -<p>“Oh,” says I, “he hangs there?”</p> - -<p>“At the top of London Road,” says he, dipping his nose again. “There -stands the gallows, where the roads cross and near the Gate.”</p> - -<p>“Gallows Gate,” said I, laughing. “Well, ’twas a merry job enough.”</p> - -<p>“Aye,” says he. “But by this we might ha’ been far toward London Town, -whither most of us are already gone. But ’twas not his wish. He must -come back with the Lewes sheriff and drink him farewell.”</p> - -<p>“Leaving a poor likely young man such as yourself to starve of cold and -a empty belly here,” said I. “Well, I would learn such a one manners in -your place, and you shall have another tankard of dogs-nose for your -pains,” says I, whereat I called out the innkeeper again, but took care -that he had my share of the gin in addition to his own. By that time -he was garrulous, and had lost his caution, so, keeping him in talk a -little and dragging his wits along from point to point, I presently -called to him.</p> - -<p>“Come down,” said I, “and stamp your feet. ’Twill warm you without as -the liquor within.” And he did as I had suggested without demur.</p> - -<p>“Run round to the back,” says I, “and get yourself a noggin, and if -so be you see a gentleman on horseback there asleep, why, ’tis only a -friend of mine that is weary of his long journey. I will call you if -there be occasion.”</p> - -<p>He hesitated a moment, but I set a crown on his palm, and his scruples -vanished. He limped into the darkness.</p> - -<p>’Twas no more than two minutes later that I heard voices in the -doorway, and next came Timothy Grubbe into the night, in talk with -someone. At which it took me but thirty seconds to whip me into the -seat and pull the coachman’s cloak about me, so that I sat stark and -black in the starlight. Grubbe left the man he talked with and came forward.</p> - -<p>“You shall drink when ye reach Cobham, Crossway,” says he, looking up at -me, “and mind your ways, damn ye!”</p> - -<p>And at that he made no more ado, but humming an air he lurched into the -carriage. I pulled out the nags, and turned their heads so that they -were set for the north. And then I whistled low and short—a whistle I -knew that the mare would heed, and I trusted that she would bring her -companion with her. The wheels rolled out upon the road and Timothy -Grubbe and I were bound for London all alone.</p> - -<p>As I turned up the London road that swept steeply up the downs I looked -back, and behind the moon shone faintly on Calypso and behind her on -the dead man wagging awkwardly in his stirrups.</p> - -<p>I pushed the horses on as fast as might be, but the ruts were still -deep in mud, and the carriage jolted and rocked and swayed as we went. -The wind came now with a little moaning sound from the bottom of the -valley, and the naked branches creaked above my head, for that way was -sunken and tangled with the thickets of nut and yew. And presently I -was forced to go at a foot pace, so abrupt was the height. The moon -struck through the trees and peered on us, and Grubbe put his head -forth of the window.</p> - -<p>“Why go you not faster, damn ye?” says he, being much in liquor.</p> - -<p>“’Tis the hill, your honor,” said I.</p> - -<p>He glanced up and down.</p> - -<p>“What is it comes up behind?” says he, shouting. “There is a noise of -horses that pounds upon the road.”</p> - -<p>“’Tis the wind,” says I, “that comes off the valley and makes play -among the branches.”</p> - -<p>He sank back in his seat, and we went forward slowly. But he was -presently out again, screaming on the night.</p> - -<p>“There is a horseman behind,” says he. “What does he there?”</p> - -<p>“’Tis a traveler, your honor,” says I, “that goes, no doubt, by our -road, and is bound for London.”</p> - -<p>“He shall be bound for hell,” says he tipsily, and falls back again. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> - -<p>The horses wound up foot by foot and emerged now into a space of better -light, and I looked around, and there was Grubbe, with his head through -the window and his eyes cast backward.</p> - -<p>“What fool is this,” says he, “that rides so awkwardly, and drives a -spare horse? If he ride no better, I will ask him to keep me company, -if he be a gentleman. Many gentlemen have rode along of me, and have -rode to the gallows tree,” and he chuckled harshly.</p> - -<p>“Maybe he will ride with you to the Gallows Gate, sir,” says I.</p> - -<p>“Why, Crossway,” says he, laughing loudly, “you have turned a wit,” and -once more withdrew his head.</p> - -<p>But now we were nigh to the top of the down, and I could see the faint -shadow of the triple beam. With that I knew my journey was done, and -that my work must be accomplished. I pulled to the horses on the rise, -and got down from my seat.</p> - -<p>“Why d’ye stop, rascal?” called Grubbe in a fury, but I was by the door -and had it opened.</p> - -<p>“Timothy Grubbe,” said I, “ye’re a damned rogue that the devil, your -master, wants and he shall have ye.”</p> - -<p>He stared at me in a maze, his nostrils working, and then says he in a -low voice: “So, ’tis you.”</p> - -<p>“Your time has come, Timothy,” said I, flinging off my cloak, and I -took my sword. “Out with you, worm.”</p> - -<p>He said never a word, but stepped forth, and looked about him. He was -sobered now, as I could see from his face, which had a strange look on it.</p> - -<p>“Ye’re two rascals to one, Dick,” says he slowly, looking on the dead -man on his horse which had come to a stop in the shadows.</p> - -<p>“No,” says I, “this gentleman will see fair play for us.”</p> - -<p>Grubbe took a step backward. “Sir,” says he, addressing the dead -man—but at that moment Calypso and her companion started, and came -into the open.</p> - -<p>The moon shone on the face of the dead. Grubbe uttered a cry, and -turned on me. His teeth showed in a grin.</p> - -<p>“No ghost shall haunt me, Dick,” says he. “Rather shall another ghost -keep him company,” and his wry neck moved horribly.</p> - -<p>I pointed upward where the tobyman hung in chains, keeping his flocks -by moonlight. “There’s your destiny,” said I. “There’s your doom. Now -defend, damn ye, for I’ll not prick an adder at a disadvantage.”</p> - -<p>He drew his blade, for no man could say that Timothy Grubbe, -time-server and traitor as he was, lacked courage. Suddenly he sliced -at me, but I put out and turned off the blow.</p> - -<p>“If you will have it so soon,” said I, “in God’s name have it,” and I -ran upon him.</p> - -<p>My third stroke went under his guard, and I took him in the midriff. He -gave vent to an oath, cursed me in a torrent, and struck at me weakly -as he went down.</p> - -<p>He was as dead as mutton almost ere he touched the ground.</p> - -<p>I have never been a man of the church, nor do I lay any claim to own -more religion than such as to make shift by when it comes to the -end. No, nor do I deny that I have sundry offenses on my conscience, -some of which I have narrated in my memoirs. But when it comes to a -reckoning I will make bold to claim credit in that I rid the world he -had encumbered of Timothy Grubbe—the foulest ruffian that ever I did -encounter in the length of my days on the road.</p> - -<p>I climbed the beam and lowered the poor tobyman, and it took me but a -little time to make the change. The one I left where he had paid the -quittance in the peace of the earth, and t’other a-swinging under the -light of the moon on Gallows Gate.</p> - -<p>I have said my journey was done, but that was not so. There was more -for me to do, which was to deliver poor Masters at his lady-love’s and -break the unhappy news. And so, leaving the carriage where it stood -with the patient horses that were cropping the grass, I mounted the -mare and began to go down the long limb of the downs to the north. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> - -<p>’Twas late—near midnight—when I reached Effingham and found my way -to the manor. I rapped on the door, leaving Calypso and t’other in the -shadows of the house, and presently one answered to my knock.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” says she.</p> - -<p>“’Tis a stranger,” says I, “that has news of grave import for Mistress -Anne Varley, whom I beg you will call.”</p> - -<p>“She cannot hear you,” said she. “’Tis her wedding night.”</p> - -<p>“What!” said I in amazement, and instantly there flowed in on me the -meaning of this.</p> - -<p>“Curse all women save one or two!” thinks I. And I turned to the maid -again with my mind made up.</p> - -<p>“Look you, wench,” said I. “This is urgent. I have an instant message -that presses. And if so be your mistress will bear with me a moment and -hold discourse, I’ll warrant she shall not regret it—nor you,” says I, -with a crown piece in my palm.</p> - -<p>She hesitated and then, “Maybe she will refuse,” says she. “She hath -but these few hours been wed.”</p> - -<p>“Not she,” said I, “if you will tell her that I bring good news, great -news—news that will ease her spirit and send her to her bridal bed -with a happy heart.”</p> - -<p>At that she seemed to assent, and with my crown in her hand she -disappeared into the darkening of the house. It must have been some ten -minutes later that a light flashed in the hall and a voice called to me.</p> - -<p>“Who is it?” it asked, “and what want you at this hour?”</p> - -<p>I looked at her. She was of a pretty face enough, rather pale of color, -and with eyes that moved restlessly and measured all things. Lord, I -have known women all my life in all stations, and I would ha’ pinned -no certainty on those treacherous eyes. She was young, too, but had an -air of satisfaction in herself, and was in no wise embarrassed by this -interview. I had no mercy on her, with her oaths of constancy writ in -water that figured to be tears and her false features.</p> - -<p>“Madam,” said I civilly, “I hear you’re wed today to a gentleman of -standing.”</p> - -<p>“What is that to you, sir?” she asked quickly.</p> - -<p>“’Tis nothing, for sure,” said I, “but to a friend of mine that I value -deeply ’tis much.”</p> - -<p>“You speak of Mr. Masters,” said she sharply, and with discomposure. -“Sure, if he be a gentleman, he will not trouble me when he knows.”</p> - -<p>“Anne!” said a voice from the top of the stairs, “Anne!”</p> - -<p>’Twas her bridegroom calling. Well, she should go to him in what mood -she might when I had done with her.</p> - -<p>“He will never know,” says I, “unless he hear it from yourself.”</p> - -<p>“Anne!” said the voice above the stairs.</p> - -<p>“He shall not—I will not,” she cried angrily. “I will not be -persecuted. ’Twas all a mistake.”</p> - -<p>I whistled. Calypso emerged from the night, and behind Calypso was -the horse with its burden. An anxious look dawned in her face. “I am -insulted,” says she and paused quickly.</p> - -<p>“Edward!” she called, and put a hand to her bosom.</p> - -<p>“Anne, darling!” cried the voice, “where are you? Come, child, ’tis -late.”</p> - -<p>The horse came to a stop before the door with the body on the saddle, -bound to the crupper.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” she cried in alarm, and suddenly she shrieked, -recognizing what was there. “It is an omen—my wedding night!”</p> - -<p>“Aye,” says I, “which be your bridegroom, he that calls or he that is -silent? Call on him and he hears not.”</p> - -<p>Peal after peal went up now from her, and the house was awake with -alarm. I turned away, leaving her on the doorstep, and mounted the mare.</p> - -<p>As I cantered off into the night I cast a glance behind me, and a group -was gathered at the door, and in that group lay Mistress Anne fallen in -a swoon, with the sleeping figure on the horse before her. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="JUDGE" id="JUDGE"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The Judge and the Jack Tar</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-above1 space-below1">BY HENRY H. CORNISH</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="bigfont">I</span>T’S like this here, Your Honor, see?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As near as I can tell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A gentleman hired my boat, and he<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Was quite a proper swell.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He brought a lady down with him<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To make a longish trip<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so we scrubbed her thoroughly—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i3"><i>Judge</i>—The lady?<br /></span> -<span class="i3"><i>Tar</i>—No! The ship<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Well—cutting off my story short<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To come to what befell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We started, but put back to port<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which much annoyed the swell.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She fell between two waterways<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And got a nasty nip,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So we rigged her out with brand-new stays—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i3"><i>Judge</i>—The lady?<br /></span> -<span class="i3"><i>Tar</i>—No-o! The ship.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At last we put to sea again<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And started for the west,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All spick and span without a stain<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When all at once, I’m blest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her blooming timbers got misplaced,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which quite upset the trip,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The water washed around her waist—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i3"><i>Judge</i>—The lady’s?<br /></span> -<span class="i3"><i>Tar</i> (<i>nodding</i>)—And the ship’s.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That’s all, I think, Your Honor, now,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’ll state to you my claim.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Five hundred dollars, you’ll allow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Won’t build her up the same.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her rudder’s gone, her nose is broke,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her flag I’ve had to dip<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She’s lying now upon the mud—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i3"><i>Judge</i>—The lady?<br /></span> -<span class="i3"><i>Tar</i>—No-o-o-o! The ship.<br /> - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></span> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="OBJECT" id="OBJECT"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Object, Matrimony</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-below1">BY CAROLINE LOCKHART</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">WITH a turn of his red wrist, Porcupine Jim guided his -horse in and out among the badger holes which made riding dangerous business on -the Blackfoot Reservation. Perplexity and discontent rested upon -Porcupine’s not too lofty brow. Though he looked at the badger holes -and avoided them mechanically, he saw them not.</p> - -<p>“Would you tank, would you tank,” he burst out finally in a voice which -rasped with irritation, “dat a girl like Belle Dashiel would rudder -have dat pigeon-toed, smart-Aleck breed dan me?”</p> - -<p>Porcupine’s pinto cayuse threw back one ear and listened attentively to -the naïve conceit of his rider’s soliloquy.</p> - -<p>“Look at me!” demanded Porcupine, changing the reins to his left hand -that he might make a more emphatic gesture with his right. “A honest -Swede, able to make fifteen dollars a day at my trade. Me as has -sheared sheep from Montany to the Argentine Republic, gittin’ bounced -for dat lazy half-breed dat can’t hold a yob two mont’!”</p> - -<p>Porcupine’s thoughts upon any subject were not varied, and he burst -forth at intervals with a reiteration of the same idea until he came -to the ridge where he could look down upon the house of Dashiel, the -squaw-man, who kept a sort of post office in a soapbox.</p> - -<p>Porcupine had come twenty-five miles for his mail. Not that he expected -any, but to be gibed at by Belle Dashiel had the same fascination for -him that biting on a sore tooth has for a small boy. Gradually the -knowledge had come to his slow-working mind that the half-breed girl’s -interest in him rose solely from the fact that John Laney was his -partner in the assessment work which they were doing in the mountains -on a tenderfoot’s copper claim.</p> - -<p>Laney’s father had been an Irish steamboat captain on Lake Superior, -his mother, a Chippewa squaw, and the cross had produced an unusual -type. The Indian blood which keeps a half-breed silent and shy before -strangers had no such effect upon Laney. His prowess was his theme and -his vanity was a byword on the Reservation. He obtained his fashions -from the catalogue of a wholesale house in Chicago which furnishes the -trusting pioneer with the latest thing in oil drills or feather boas. -It was common belief that Laney’s high celluloid collar would some day -cut his head off.</p> - -<p>Laney’s waking hours were spent in planning schemes of primitive -crudeness whereby he might acquire affluence without labor. In his -dreams the tenderfoot tourist was generally the person who was to -remove him from penury.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Porcupine!” called Belle Dashiel, coming to the door with a -pink bow pinned on a pompadour of amazing height.</p> - -<p>“Hullo yourself!” replied Porcupine, elated at his ready wit and the -cordiality in her voice.</p> - -<p>“How’s John?”</p> - -<p>The smile faded from his face.</p> - -<p>“Good ’nough,” he replied shortly.</p> - -<p>“When’s he comin’ down?”</p> - -<p>“Dunno. Any mail for me?”</p> - -<p>“A letter and a paper.”</p> - -<p>“Who could be writin’ to me?”</p> - -<p>Porcupine looked surprised.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> -“Didn’t you expect nothin’?” Belle Dashiel’s eyes shone mischievously.</p> - -<p>“Yass, I tank, mebby.” A deeper red spread over the Swede’s sunburned face.</p> - -<p>He opened his letter and spelled it out laboriously, his chest heaving -with the effort.</p> - -<p>“A man over in Chicago he tank I’m in turrible need of a pianny,” he -said in disgust, as he put the circular in the stove.</p> - -<p>Porcupine lingered till the chill of the night air crept into the -sunshine of the September day. Then he put spurs to his patient cayuse -and hit the trail which led into the fastnesses of the Rockies.</p> - -<p>The light was not quite gone when he happened to think of the -paper he had thrust in his coat-pocket. There might be news in it! -Bacon-Rind-Dick had told Two-Dog-Jack that there was a war over in -Jay-pan. Porcupine removed the wrapper and the words <i>Wedding Chimes</i> -stared him in the face.</p> - -<p>As he read, he laid the reins on his horse’s neck and let the pinto -pick his own road. The matrimonial sheet opened up a vista of romantic -adventures and possibilities of which the Swede had never dreamed. His -imagination, which naturally was not a winged thing, was fired until he -saw himself leading to his shack up the North Fork of the Belly River -the fairest and richest lady in the land. All he had to do was to send -five dollars to <i>Wedding Chimes</i> and thus join their matrimonial club. -Upon the receipt of the five dollars, the editor would send him the -names and addresses of several ladies who were all young, beautiful, -wealthy and anxious to be married. He could open a correspondence with -one or all of them, and then choose for his bride the lady whose letter -appealed to him most.</p> - -<p>Porcupine strained his eyes reading descriptions of lily-white blondes -and dashing brunettes. When he could see no longer, he folded the -precious paper and buttoned it inside his coat.</p> - -<p>His cayuse was puffing up the steep mountain trail in the darkness of -the thick pines and spruces when Porcupine suddenly let out a yell -which startled the prowling lynx and made his pinto snort with fright. -It was a wild whoop of exultation. There had come to Porcupine one of -those rare revelations which have made men great. He fairly glowed -and tingled with the inspiration which had flashed upon him as though -someone had gone through his brain with a lantern.</p> - -<p>When he rode into camp, where Laney sat before the fire eating bacon -out of a frying-pan, Porcupine’s deep-set blue eyes were shining like -stars on a winter’s night.</p> - -<p>“Yass, I got de greatest ting in de mail you ever see, I tank!”</p> - -<p>Laney’s face expressed curiosity as the Swede sat down on a log and -turned his felt hat round and round upon his bullet-shaped head—a -trick he had when excited. With great deliberation and impressiveness -he produced the paper and handed it to Laney. Laney set the frying-pan -where his wolfhound could finish the bacon and opened the paper.</p> - -<p>“Young, beautiful, immensely rich; obj., mat.,” he read. Laney’s eyes -sparkled. He read for half an hour of successful weddings brought -about by the editorial Cupid. Porcupine at last roused him from his -absorption.</p> - -<p>“Laney, I got a scheme, I tank. I’ll join up with one of dem clubs -and you carry out de corryspondance with one of dem ladies. You are a -better scholar den me and write a pooty goot letter. Den, if it goes -all right, I’ll go and see her and tell her I ain’t exactly de man dat -done de writin’, but I’m just as goot.</p> - -<p>“’Tain’t no use for you to get into de club, because you are all the -same as promised to Belle Dashiel. Sure,” Porcupine went on, “Belle -ain’t rich nor beautiful like dem ladies in <i>Weddin’ Chimes</i>, but she’s -a goot little girl.</p> - -<p>“Old Dashiel ain’t got more dan fifty head of beef cattle, and dey say -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> -he got a lot of runts in de last Govermint issue, but a ting like dat -don’t cut no ice if you’re stuck on de girl.”</p> - -<p>Laney moved uneasily and avoided Porcupine’s eyes.</p> - -<p>“Now for me,” continued the Swede, “I can marry any millionaire I want to.”</p> - -<p>As soon as the mails could get it there, the editor of <i>Wedding Chimes</i> -received a neatly penciled and eloquent letter from one John Laney, -setting forth his especial needs and preferences, with considerable -stress laid upon the financial standing of the matrimonial candidates.</p> - -<p>The day the list was due Laney rode down for the mail. The eagerness -with which he took the letter from her hand did not escape Belle -Dashiel.</p> - -<p>“Got a new girl, John?” she asked lightly, though she watched his face -with suspicious eyes.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps,” replied Laney, and all her urging could not detain him.</p> - -<p>By the light of the camp-fire Laney and Porcupine studied the list of -names and addresses sent from the office of the matrimonial paper.</p> - -<p>“This a-here one suits me,” said Laney. “‘Mayme Livingston, Oak Grove, -Iowa.’ It’s a toney-sounding name.”</p> - -<p>“It’s me dat’s gittin’ married,” Porcupine suggested significantly. -“But Mayme’s all right, I tank. Go on ahead and write.”</p> - -<p>So Laney, with the assistance of a sheet of ruled notepaper and a lead -pencil which he moistened frequently in order to shade effectively, -composed a letter which he and Porcupine regarded not only as a model -of cleverness but an achievement from a literary point of view. The -legal tone which gave it dignity was much admired by Porcupine. The -letter read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Belly River, Mont.</span></p> -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap">Miss Mayme Livingston:</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dear Madam:</span> Whereas I have paid up five -dollars and have the priveledge of writing to any -lady on the list sent from the aforesaid matrimonial -paper, I, the undersigned, have picked out you, Miss -Mayme Livingston party of the first part, obj. mat.</p> - -<p>I am an American, five feet seven, and quite dark. -I am interested in copper mines and cattle. I can -ride anything that wears hair and last winter I -killed two silver-tips and a link. I am engaged -somewhat in trapping also. They say I am a tony -dresser and I can dance the Portland Fancy or any -dance that I see once. I play the juice-harp, mouth -organ and accordian. I have a kind disposition and -would make a good husband to any lady who had a -little income of her own.</p> - -<p>Let me hear from you as soon as you get this and -tell me what you think of my writing.</p> - -<p class="author">Respy. Yrs.<span class="ws3"> </span><br /> -<span class="smcap">John Laney.</span></p> - -<p>In witness whereof that this letter is true I have -hereunto set my hand and fixed my seal.</p> - -<p class="author">Porcupine Jim X his mark.</p> -</div> - -<p class="space-above1">The days which followed the mailing of the -above composition were the longest Laney and Porcupine had ever known. -They discussed Miss Livingston until they felt they knew her. Porcupine -thought she had black eyes, black hair, was inclined to stoutness, but -with a good “figger.”</p> - -<p>The name of Livingston to Laney conjured up a vision of blonde -loveliness in red satin, slender, shapely, with several thousand -dollars in a handbag which she kept always with her.</p> - -<p>Miss Livingston’s letter came with delightful promptness. There was an -angry glow in Belle Dashiel’s Indian eyes as she handed the salmon-pink -envelope to Laney.</p> - -<p>“Who you writin’ to?” she demanded.</p> - -<p>“Business,” replied Laney bruskly, and strode out of the house.</p> - -<p>Porcupine, who had also come down, lingered a moment to tell her she -looked prettier each time that he saw her.</p> - -<p>Miss Livingston’s letter read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><span class="ws2">Mr. John Laney</span></p> <p -class="no-indent">deer sir. i take a few minutes to tell you how glad -i was to heer from you Away off in montana i have not got Much Noos -to rite but i will explain abot Myself i am a suthoner and quite Dark -to my Father was a rice planter before the war which ruhined us i hav -a good Voice and sing in the Quire i danz most evry Danc goin i have -a Stiddy incom and make hansom presints to annybody i Like if i met a -perfect Genelman i wold Marry him i cannot rite annymore Today bekaws i -hay Piz to make rite offen to</p> - -<p class="author">Miss Mayme Livingston</p> - -<p>i think your Ritin is good i wish you wold send your Fotegraf -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> -</div> - -<p class="space-above1">Laney’s brow was clouded as he folded the letter. -“She ain’t much of a scholar,” he said. “You hardly ever see a scholar -use little ‘i’s.’”</p> - -<p>“What differunce does dat make when she’s got a stiddy income?” replied -Porcupine quickly. “And den what she said about handsome presents. -Sure, she’s a hairess, I tank.”</p> - -<p>Laney brightened at these reminders, and immediately set about -composing another letter calculated to impress the wealthy, if -unlettered, Miss Livingston.</p> - -<p>“Dear madam,” soon developed into “Dearest Mayme,” and “deer sir” as -speedily became “darlig John,” and, with each salmon-pink envelope’s -arrival, Laney’s coolness toward Belle Dashiel became more marked.</p> - -<p>“Porcupine,” said Laney, who had begun to show some reluctance in -reading the correspondence to his partner, “the lady is gettin’ oneasy -to see me, and when we finish runnin’ that drift in the lead, I think -I’ll take a trip over to Iowa and see her.”</p> - -<p>“But where do I come in, mebby?” demanded Porcupine.</p> - -<p>“That’s what I’m goin’ for—to fix it up for you. Reely, Porcupine,” -and he looked critically at the rawboned Swede, whose hair stood up -like the quills on the animal from which he had received his sobriquet, -“it wouldn’t be right for you to break in on a lady without givin’ her -warning of what you was like.”</p> - -<p>“I know I ain’t pooty,” replied Porcupine unperturbed, “but I can make -fifteen dollars a day at my trade.”</p> - -<p>The tenderfoot’s assessment money went toward buying Laney a wardrobe -which almost any one of Laney’s relatives or friends would have killed -him in his sleep to possess.</p> - -<p>A jeweler, advertising in <i>Wedding Chimes</i>, received an order for a -one-hundred-and-fifty-dollar scarfpin, to be paid for in instalments. -Porcupine, whose nature was singularly free from envy, could not -but feel a pang when he saw the large horseshoe of yellow diamonds -glittering in Laney’s red cravat.</p> - -<p>Laney had read that no gentleman should think of venturing into -polite society without a “dress suit.” An order was sent for a -seventy-five-dollar suit of evening clothes to the Chicago firm from -whom they bought their mining tools. When the clothes arrived Laney -dressed himself in them one evening in their shack up the North Fork -of Belly River, and Porcupine’s face showed the admiration he felt, as -Laney strutted like a pheasant drumming on a log.</p> - -<p>Laney, who numbered among his accomplishments the ability to draw a -rose or a horse so that almost anybody would know what it was, gave -an original touch to his costume by purchasing at the Agency a brown -broad-brimmed felt hat and painting a red rose directly in front under -the stiff brim.</p> - -<p>When the drift was run and Laney’s wardrobe was complete, he and the -Swede set out across the Reservation to the railroad station.</p> - -<p>“Pardner,” said Porcupine as he looked wistfully at the broadcloth coat -with satin revers and the tail sloped away like a grasshopper’s wings, -“dey ain’t a friend you got, but me, dat would trust you to do their -courtin’ for them togged out like dat—sure, dat’s so!”</p> - -<p>There was a derisive glint in Laney’s small back eyes; he held the -slow-witted Swede in almost open contempt for his innocence. Porcupine -shook hands with him on the platform and wished him good luck. “You’ll -do your best for me, pard?” he asked anxiously.</p> - -<p>“Trust me,” replied Laney gaily, intoxicated by the attention he was -receiving from the tourists in the Pullman car.</p> - -<p>Porcupine stopped at Dashiel’s on his return. Belle Dashiel met him at -the door and her eyes were blazing. Without being able to define the -process of reasoning by which he arrived at the conclusion, Porcupine -felt that his brilliant plot stood an infinitely better show of success -that he did not find her in tears. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Where’s he gone at?” She stamped her moccasined foot imperiously.</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t like to say,” replied Porcupine in a voice which denoted a -wish to shield his partner and yet a noble, if unusual, desire to tell -the truth.</p> - -<p>“Tell me!” she commanded, and she put her small hand on the big Swede’s -arm as though she would shake him.</p> - -<p>“I tank,” answered Porcupine meekly; “I dunno, but I tank he’s gone to -get married.”</p> - -<p>As Laney sat in the day coach in his evening clothes, his broad hat -tilted back from his coarse, swarthy face, a constant procession filed -through the aisle and every eye rested upon his smiling and complacent -countenance. He passed two restless nights sleeping with his head on -his patent-leather valise, and monotonous days eating peanuts and -slaking his thirst at the ice-tank in the corner of the car. The farther -he got from home, the more attention he attracted, which was some -recompense for the inconvenience he was enduring.</p> - -<p>He had plenty of time to decide a question which had much perplexed -him: Could he immediately address the lady as “Mayme” and kiss her -upon sight, or should he call her Miss Livingston and merely shake her -hand? If too demonstrative, he might frighten her—capital is shy, as -all men know. On the other hand, women resent coldness—now there was -Belle Dashiel. Something which, if developed, might have proved to be -a conscience, gave him a twinge, and he hastened to put the half-breed -girl from his thoughts.</p> - -<p>He reviewed the subject of his greeting from all possible sides, -and decided that, in view of the many endearing phrases which Miss -Livingston’s letters had contained and the neat border of “o’s,” -labeled “kisses,” which had ornamented her last letter, he could feel -reasonably safe in planting a chaste salute upon her trembling lips. -Also he wondered how long it would be before he could hint at a small loan.</p> - -<p>When they returned from their bridal tour they would take the best room -in the hotel at the Agency, and he and work would be strangers ever -after. He would send to Great Falls for a top buggy, and buy a mate to -drive with his brown colt. He would get a long, fawn-colored overcoat -and a diamond ring. He paused in the erection of his air castle to read -again the letter which had reached him just before his departure.</p> - -<p class="blockquot">“i will be at the Depo in a purple Satin wast -with red roses in my Hat you can’t help but see me,” said the penciled -lines. “i am tickled to deth that you are coming be Sure an com on the -3.37 thursday o how can i wait till then.”</p> - -<p>Laney smiled contentedly and returned the letter to his pocket. For the -hundredth time he consulted the time-table. “Jimminy Christmas!—only -three hours more!” He hastened to wash his hands and face, having -postponed that ceremony until he should near Oak Grove. The bosom of -his pleated shirt was rumpled, and his dress clothes showed that he -had slept in them; but trifles could not mar his happiness. He oiled -his black hair from a small bottle containing bear grease scented with -bergamot, and adjusted his cravat that the horseshoe might show to -advantage.</p> - -<p>When after a century of nervous tension the train whistled at the -outskirts of Oak Grove, Laney’s knees were trembling beneath him and -it seemed as though the thumping of his heart would choke him. He -swallowed hard as, the solitary arrival, he descended the car steps and -looked about him.</p> - -<p>There was a flash of purple satin and an avalanche seemed to bury Laney -in a moist embrace.</p> - -<p>“Hyar yo’ is, honey!” cried a ringing, triumphant voice in his ear as -he struggled to free himself. “Ah knowed you’d come!”</p> - -<p>“Good Gawd!” cried Laney as he broke loose and jumped back. “Black! -Black as a camp coffee-pot!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, honey, I’se black, but I’se lovin’!” and Miss Livingston advanced -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> -upon him with sparkling eyes and an expanse of gleaming ivories.</p> - -<p>“What for a game you been giving me?” demanded Laney, retreating to the -edge of the platform. “You said you were the daughter of a Southern planter.”</p> - -<p>“So I is, so I is,” replied that lady in a conciliatory tone. “Mah -father planted rice foah Colonel Heywood down in South Caroliny till he died.”</p> - -<p>“But your money, your steady income——”</p> - -<p>“Eb’ry Sataday night Ah draws mah little ole five dollars foah cookin’ -in a res-ta-rant.”</p> - -<p>Miss Livingston’s mood suddenly changed. From a pleading, loving maiden -she became an aggressive termagant; from the defensive she assumed the -offensive, gripping her pearl-handled parasol in a suggestive manner.</p> - -<p>“Say, yo’ Wil’ Man of Borneo, dressed up in them outlannish clothes, -what you mean tellin’ me yo’ was an American?”</p> - -<p>Laney made a feeble effort to explain that he was of the race of true -Americans, but he might as well have tried to be heard above the -roaring of a storm in the Belly River cañon.</p> - -<p>“Black, is I?” continued the dusky whirlwind, her voice rising to -a shriek. “Maybe you think yo’ look like a snow-bank! What kin’ of -a rag-time freak is yo,’ anyhow? If you think yo’ can ’gage mah -’ffections den ’spise me ’cause Ah ain’t no blonde, you’se mistaken in -dis chile! Ah don’ stand for no triflin’ from no man. If yo’ scorn me, -yo’ ‘What is it’ from de sideshow, Ah’ll have yo’ tuck up foah britch -of promise!”</p> - -<p>John Laney waited to hear no more. He grabbed his shining valise from -the platform and ran down the nearest alley.</p> - -<p>The <i>Iowa Granger</i> said editorially in its next issue:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>We had a narrow escape from death last Thursday evening. We were -mistaken by an intoxicated redskin for the editor of a matrimonial -publication known as <i>Wedding Chimes</i>. Had we not pasted the -infuriated savage one with the mucilage pot, and defended ourself -with the scissors which, fortunately, we had in our hand at the time, -undoubtedly the paper of September 12th would have been the last issue -of the <i>Iowa Granger</i>. Our compositor came to our rescue in the nick of -time.</p> - -<p>The redskin is now in the calaboose, but refuses to divulge his name -or residence. It is believed, however, that he belongs to the medicine -show which sold bitters and horse liniment in our midst last week.</p> -</div> - -<p>When the coyotes howled that evening on the hill which overlooked the -road, they saw a radiant Swede with his arm about a pretty half-breed’s -slender waist; and Dashiel fed the pinto cayuse a pint of oats, which -was the surest kind of sign that he looked upon the pinto’s owner as -somewhat closer than a brother.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="f120"><i>Equal to the Occasion</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">AN old darky preacher down South one Sunday found a poker -chip in the collection basket. The minister knew enough of the ways of the wicked -world to realize that the little ivory disk represented more money than -the average contribution, and he was loath to lose the amount. Rising -to his full height in the pulpit, he said:</p> - -<p>“Ef de sportin’ gent what done put de pokah chip in de collection plate -will be kind ’nuff to tell where hit kin be cashed in, de congregation -will ax de Lawd to forgib him de error ob his ways.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="drop-cap">OUR lives are made up of selfishness and self-sacrifice. -Both are much the same. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="NAMELESS" id="NAMELESS"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak">The Rivers of the Nameless Dead</h2></div> - -<p class="center">BY THEODORE DREISER</p> -<p class="center"><i>Author of “Sister Carrie”</i></p> - -<p class="blockquot">The body of a man was found yesterday in the -North River at Twenty-fifth street. A brass check, No. 21,600, of -the New York Registry Company was found on the body.—<i>N. Y. Daily -Paper.</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">THERE is an island surrounded by rivers, and about it -the tide scurries fast and deep. It is a beautiful island, long, narrow, magnificently -populated, and with such a wealth of life and interest as no island in -the world has ever before possessed. Long lines of vessels of every -description nose its banks. Enormous buildings and many splendid -mansions line its streets.</p> - -<p>It is filled with a vast population, millions coming and going, and is -the scene of so much life and enthusiasm and ambition that its fame is, -as the sound of a bell, heard afar.</p> - -<p>And the interest which this island has for the world is that it is -seemingly a place of opportunity and happiness. If you were to listen -to the tales of its glory carried the land over and see the picture -which it presents to the incoming eye, you would assume that it was -all that it seemed. Glory for those who enter its walls seeking glory. -Happiness for those who come seeking happiness. A world of comfort and -satisfaction for all who take up their abode within it—the island of -beauty and delight.</p> - -<p>The sad part of it is, however, that the island and its beauty are, to -a certain extent, a snare. Its seeming loveliness, which promises so -much to the innocent eye, is not always easy of realization. Thousands -come, it is true; thousands venture to reconnoiter its mysterious -shores. From the villages and hamlets of the land is streaming a -constant procession of pilgrims, the feeling of whom is that here is -the place where their dreams are to be realized; here is the spot where -they are to be at peace. That their hopes are not, in so many cases, -to be realized, is the thing which gives a poignant sadness to their -coming. The beautiful island is not possessed of happiness for all.</p> - -<p>And the exceptional tragedy of it is that the waters which surround the -beautiful island are forever giving evidence of the futility of the -dreams of so many. If you were to stand upon its shore, where the tide -scurries past in its never-ending hurry, or were to idle for a time -upon its many docks and piers, which reach far out into the water and -give lovely views of the sky and the gulls and the boats, you might -see drifting past upon the bosom of the current some member of all the -ambitious throng who, in time past, has set his face toward the city, -and who entered only to find that there was more of sorrow than of -joy. Sad, white-faced maidens; grim, bearded, time-worn men; strange, -strife-worn, grief-stricken women, and, saddest of all, children—soft, -wan, tender children, floating in the waters which wash the shores of -the island city.</p> - -<p>And such waters! How green they look; how graceful, how mysterious! -From far seas they come—strange, errant, peculiar waters—prying along -the shores of the magnificent island; sucking and sipping at the rocks -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> -which form its walls; whispering and gurgling about the docks and piers -and flowing, flowing, flowing. Such waters seem to be kind, and yet -they are not so. They seem to be cruel, and yet they are not so; merely -indifferent these waters are—dark, strong, deep, indifferent.</p> - -<p>And curiously the children of men who come to seek the joys of the city -realize the indifference and the impartiality of the waters. When the -vast and beautiful island has been reconnoitered, when its palaces have -been viewed, its streets disentangled, its joys and its difficulties -discovered, then the waters, which are neither for nor against, seem -inviting. Here, when the great struggle has been ended, when the years -have slipped by and the hopes of youth have not been realized; when -the dreams of fortune, the delights of tenderness, the bliss of love -and the hopes of peace have all been abandoned—the weary heart may -come and find surcease. Peace in the waters, rest in the depths and the -silence of the hurrying tide; surcease and an end in the chalice of the -waters which wash the shores of the beautiful island.</p> - -<p>And they do come, these defeated ones, not one, nor a dozen, nor a -score every year, but hundreds and hundreds. Scarcely a day passes but -one, and sometimes many, go down from the light and the show and the -merriment of the island to the shores of the waters where peace may be -found. They stop on its banks; they reflect, perhaps, on the joys which -they somehow have missed; they give a last, despairing glance at the -wonderful scene which once seemed so joyous and full of promise, and -then yield themselves unresistingly to the arms of the powerful current -and are borne away. Out past the docks and the piers of the wonderful -city. Out past its streets, its palaces, its great institutions. -Out past its lights, its colors, the sound of its merriment and its -seeking, and then the sea has them and they are no more. They have -accomplished their journey, the island its tragedy. They have come down -to the rivers of the nameless dead. They have yielded themselves as a -sacrifice to the variety of life. They have proved the uncharitableness -of the island of beauty.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="f120"><i>Wouldn’t Admit It</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">MARJORIE—At the meeting of the Spinsters’ Club the members told why -they had never married.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Madge</span>—What reason did they give?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marjorie</span>—All kinds, except that they had never got the chance.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="f120"><i>Satiated</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">WASHINGTONIAN—Wouldn’t you like to visit the Senate some day while -you’re here?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Guest</span>—No, I guess not. You see, I’m a member of the Board of -Visitors for the Old Woman’s Home up where I live.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="f120"><i>Invaluable</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">CRAWFORD—Is he a good lawyer?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Crabshaw</span>—Sure. He knows how every law on the statute books -can be evaded. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="SIMPLE" id="SIMPLE"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Another View of the Simple Life</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-below1">BY ZENOBIA COX</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">FOR the past few months we have had a deluge of optimism. -From various sources we are told that man ought to be happy. “Whatever is, is good,” -is the handwriting on the wall. Content is preached from what George -Eliot called “that Goshen of Mediocrity,” the pulpit; and politicians -publish their elastic statistics, proving prosperity and content. This -proselyting Optimism reached its height in the advent of Charles Wagner -to our hospitable shores and in the thrusting of his little book, “The -Simple Life,” under the nose of the public.</p> - -<p>The book was published here several years ago, but has lain unnoticed -until today. Our sudden torridity of welcome makes one reflect upon -a dog who tramples on the grass beneath his feet and feeds on offal; -suddenly he begins to eat the grass and then we cry, “The dog is sick!” -Humanity has a canine instinct for its needs. Its tastes must ripen. We -can neither hasten nor retard them.</p> - -<p>As it takes the fever of intoxication to appreciate the purity of -water; as the quiet of repose must follow the stress of effort, so man -now turns to the sweet nothingness of a dream, amid the warring clash -of realities.</p> - -<p>That Wagner’s idyl of simplicity is but a dream, a sigh of the -imagination, only idealists can deny. Civilization and Simplicity! -Bedlam and Elysium! Nirvana on the Tower of Babel! All these alliances -are equally possible.</p> - -<p>The very fact of his dream arousing such a storm of approval awakens -suspicion. Insistence is always a confession of doubt. Man never talks -so much of his happiness as when he is unhappy. This is demonstrated in -marriage.</p> - -<p>Wagner’s arrival in America was singularly opportune. Certainly it -was fortunate that his little olive branch was given to the public -just when it was clamoring for something. Its palms were itching for -some of the sugar-plums the Privileged Few had wrested from it, and -it was beginning to get noisy. Yes, that hydrocephalic infant, the -Proletariat, was beginning to sob for the golden spoon in the mouth -of Special Privilege, when, lo and behold! the powers behind the -throne go to Paris and bring back the soothing syrup of Wagner and his -philosophy. The infant lets the Pharisee dope him, and he drops the -unintelligible complexities of Franchises, Trusts, Labor Problems and -Wrongs to grab the little woolly lamb of Content.</p> - -<p>Surely the importers of Wagner are altruists, to try thus to make -the public so happy. And that Wagner has had importers as well as -indorsers, the Initiated know. Nevertheless, Wagner is a remarkable -man. He is remarkable in resembling two historical characters and also -in possessing the aptitudes for several vocations.</p> - -<p>He resembles Rousseau. Rousseau sang the same little Psalm of -Simplicity in the most artificial and febrile period of France. The -Philistines shrieked the same applause, and even tried to eat the -prescribed grass. He resembles Mme. de Pompadour. When no longer she -could charm the palled fancy of Louis XV as Circe, coquette, dancer or -<i>grande dame</i>, she assumed the garb of a peasant girl. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> - -<p>That was one of the early triumphs of simplicity. Art is always a -surprise. Its sole function is to astonish. Therein Wagner is an artist.</p> - -<p>He is also a civil engineer, for he has mastered the cosmic momentum. -The world is a seesaw. It exists by the eternal balance of contrasts. -Wagner, seeing the excess, has given us the weight to restore our -equipoise. He has led us back like refractory children to drink of milk -after we have eaten <i>marrons glacés</i> and liked them. Of course they -have given us indigestion, and that is where Wagner fills the role of -physician; he diagnoses our disease, he places his finger upon the very -“Malady of the Century,” and he prescribes—sugar pills. This shows his -great wisdom, for sugar pills and the dissecting-knife should form the -sole equipment of every physician.</p> - -<p>Wagner is also a philanthropist. His aim is to make us happy, and -his method is to make us believe that a gridiron is a lyre and that -cobblestones may be Apples of the Hesperides. He tells us that as -things now are, each child is “born into a joyless world; that the -complexities of our lives have led us into the Slough of Despond; that -Civilization has been futile, for it has left us miserable.” And for -all our ills he gives us the panacea of content, simplicity and repose. -He summons us to be “merely human, to have the courage to be men and -leave the rest to Him who numbered the stars. Each life should wish to -be what it is good for it to be, without troubling about anything else.”</p> - -<p>This is the gospel of non-resistance, of quietism. The absurdity of -it is attested by every step we take, for do they not say we could -not walk were it not for the resistance of the ground? Eating, alone, -is a triumph over opposition. He wishes to steep us in the <i>dolce far -niente</i> of Content, and tells us in order to do so all that is needed -is our confidence and trust.</p> - -<p>“An imperturbable faith in the stability of the universe and its -intelligent ordering sleeps in everything that exists. The flowers, the -trees, the beasts of the field live in calm strength, in entire security.”</p> - -<p>We must remember that Wagner lives in Paris, and, therefore, make -allowances for this last statement. He probably has never seen any -beasts of the field except in the cages of the Zoo, else he could not -have such exuberant faith in their confidence and security. He could -never have studied the stealthy horrors of the forests—the furtive -panther—the relentless viper—their trembling victims—and possess -such a genial conviction of the mercy and goodness of this scheme of -creation. No, he must look away from nature for his examples of harmony -and peace.</p> - -<p>His perpetual refrain is, “Be human and be simple.” Civilization’s -answer is that the two are incompatible. Evolution tends to complexity -as inevitably as growth leads to death. The beginnings of all things -are simple—people, theories of government and vegetable seeds. But the -laws of life will not leave them thus. Like American policemen, their -continual order is “move on.”</p> - -<p>We would have had no history had it not been for man’s love of novelty. -It is the one enduring thing. The anthropology of the world is but -the record of man’s taste for the strange. Yet Wagner says, “Novelty -is ephemeral. Nothing endures but the commonplace, and if one departs -from that, it is to run the most perilous risk. Happy he who is able to -reclaim himself, who finds the way back to simplicity.”</p> - -<p>After reading pages of hazy verbiage descriptive of this simplicity, -one cannot but see that his ideal is a vapory creation, a fusing of -the honest animality of the savage and the calloused quietism of the -lotus-eater.</p> - -<p>Simplicity! What prototypes have we for it in all humanity? Two -possible types suggest themselves, the savage and the hermit. But -Darwin shows us that we cannot find simplicity in the savage. Like -civilized man, his instincts are toward exaggeration. He, too, in his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> -limited way, tries to escape from the realities of life. His protest -against truth is tattooing. His idea of beauty is distortion.</p> - -<p>As the great anatomist, Bichat, long ago said, “If everyone were cast -in the same mold, there would be no such thing as beauty. If all our -women were to become as beautiful as the Venus de Medici, we should -soon wish for a variety. We should wish to see certain characters a -little exaggerated beyond the existing common standard.”</p> - -<p>All the philosophizing of the optimist won’t thwart this tendency -of human nature, and it is as futile to bewail “the Vice of the -Superlative,” the complexities and hyperboles of life, as it would -be to bewail the inevitability of death. Thus we see we cannot find -simplicity in man’s primitive form, the savage.</p> - -<p>We must, then, look for it in one of his acquired forms—in the -idealist who can make of himself a mental Robinson Crusoe, or in the -hermit of the monastery or the desert. It must be in some isolated -being that we seek simplicity, for certainly it can never be found amid -“the madding crowd” and its “ignoble strife.” In solitude alone can -one cultivate that contemplative apathy of the mind which Wagner calls -peace, which Mahatmas call divinity, and wives call selfishness.</p> - -<p>But solitude is not good for man. With it we punish our worst criminals -and our old maids. Victor Hugo says, “It makes a god or a devil of -man.” Neither of these superlative beings could exist in Wagner’s -temperate zone. Wagner yearns for quiet and rest, and where can we find -them? Scientists tell us nothing in the world is at rest. There are but -two spots on the earth which don’t move with it—the poles. And God has -made them uninhabitable—as a lesson.</p> - -<p>If Wagner could reach them, he might build his Utopia there, warm it -with a rainbow and fertilize it with the waters of Lethe.</p> - -<p>Yet humanity must have these Arcadian dreams. The epochs are strewn -with them. Periodically man grows tired of the spiced flavors of his -repasts and would fain go out in the woods and gather manna from -heaven. The effort has always been disastrous. We had the experiment -of the Perfectionists, the Icarians, the Owenites, the Harmonists and -Brook Farm. They were all founded on simplicity and were all dissolved -because of the difference between theory and practice. This is unfortunate.</p> - -<p>An ideal is like a schoolboy’s ruler—it is very good to measure by, -but is very frail to build a habitation with. Optimism is a good thing, -and so is Pessimism. But Optimism alone is popular; man does not like -to be told the faults of the universe any more than to be told of his -own faults. This accounts for his hospitality to all the myopic dogmas -of Optimism, and his antipathy to the equally true tenets of Pessimism.</p> - -<p>It is as if one faction believed only in the actuality of the day, -and the other admitted only the existence of night. Their polemics -suggest the law of gravitation run mad. What if there were only a law -of attraction and none of repulsion? Certainly we would all be merged -into one. But this union would be chaos and extinction. Our repulsions -and suspicions save us. They make an individual where the Optimist with -his one law of attraction would have an inert mass. The Lord’s Prayer -should be changed to “Deliver us from evil—and good.”</p> - -<p>Too great a bias toward a recognition of either is dangerous. The one -inculcates content—the other discontent. But of the two, discontent is -by far the safer. If content had been universal, our present degree of -enlightenment and justice would have been impossible.</p> - -<p>Content means egotism, inaction and stagnation. Discontent means -reformation, revolution and progress. All our great men were -discontented. All our imbecile kings were contented—and tried to make -their serfs so. Whose mind was the most beneficial to the world—the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> -fermenting, aggressive brain of Luther, or the tranquil cerebellum -of the gorged Vitellius? Civilization has arisen from discontent. -Discontent means upheaval, and upheaval is to a nation what plowing is -to the corn. Sir Robert Peel defined agitation to be “the marshaling of -the conscience of a nation to mold its laws.”</p> - -<p>What we want at present is not peace, but agitation. There are too many -wrongs to be righted—too many national dragons to be slain to respond -yet awhile to Wagner’s call to disarmament! What we need are spears, -not olive branches; the flag of battle, not the flag of truce.</p> - -<p>Wagner wishes to give us happiness. But man’s effort for selfish, -personal happiness has caused all the miseries of the world.</p> - -<p>It is by persistently closing their eyes to the sorrows of man that our -commercial pirates can so tranquilly exist. I believe that when man -sees that he cannot make life enjoyable he will then turn his attention -to making it endurable. At present our safest philosophy is the belief -in progress by antagonism, and our duty is to unsheathe the sword of -rebellion from the scabbard of ignorance, and do battle against all -despots and oppressors!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="f120"><i>Defined</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">“WHAT is domestic economy, Professor?”</p> - -<p>“Buying your cigars with the money you save on your wife’s clothing.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="f120"><i>The Modern Table</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">FREDDIE—What is interest, dad?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dad</span>—Six per cent is legal rate, 25 is pawnbroking, 100 is -usury, while 600 is high finance.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="f120"><i>The Faddist</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">COBWIGGER—When did your home cease to be a happy one?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dorcas</span>—When my wife joined a lot of clubs that made a -business of making other people’s homes happy.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="f120"><i>A Family Secret</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">CRAWFORD—I hear he does nothing but talk about his money.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Crabshaw</span>—Yes. He tells everything about -it except how he made it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="f120"><i>Too Tempting</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">ENGLISH TOURIST—Your members of Congress pass bills, don’t they?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Lobbyist</span>—Not the kind I offer them.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="drop-cap">PROFITS of small comforts—the great ones are so hard to get. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="CHANGE" id="CHANGE"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The Corner in Change</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-below1">BY WILLIAM A. JOHNSTON</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">“MUST be something doing,” said the night-clerk to the -room-clerk, nodding in the direction of a middle-aged man who was being piloted -toward the elevator by a bell-boy. “That’s Martin, the banker, going -up to see the Senator. There’s three others ahead of him. The Senator -was expecting them, too, for he told me when they came in to have them -shown up to his sitting-room at once.”</p> - -<p>“Who are the others?” asked the room-clerk, raising his eyes from his -ledger to look after the departing form of the man who—next to Russell -Sage—was reputed to have command of the largest amount of ready money -of any man in the United States.</p> - -<p>“Well,” replied the night-clerk, taking advantage of the dulness of a -rainy night in the spring to engage in more extended conversation than -the exigencies of his calling usually permitted, “the first one to -arrive was Congressman Woods. He’s stopping over at the Waldorf. This -is only his second term in the House, but they say he is practically -leader of his party. Not ten minutes after him was Higgins, who used to -be comptroller, or something of the sort. He’s made a pile of money in -the Street in the last few years. They say that last corner in wheat -netted him about two million. I wouldn’t care if I stood close enough -to him to get a tip once in awhile on the way things were going. There -would be more in it than following the horses, although that ain’t -saying much, judging by the run of bad luck I have had lately. Just -before Martin came in Tom Connors went upstairs.”</p> - -<p>“Tom’s rather out of his latitude, ain’t he?” said the room-clerk. “It -ain’t often he gets in with such big fellows, is it?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you fool yourself,” replied the night-clerk. “Maybe Tom Connors -doesn’t get his name in the society news as often as the rest of them, -but all the same he stands about as near next the Senator as anyone in -town. Tom Connors has a big pull in Washington, and almost as big a -one with the bankers here. With the chances he has the only reason Tom -Connors ain’t a millionaire is because he’s such a spender. Tom is a -working partner in a good many Senate deals or steals, whichever you -want to call them, unless I’m much mistaken.”</p> - -<p>The arrival of several guests put an end to the conversation. The -room-clerk turned once more to his ledger and the night-clerk began -reaching for keys and yelling, “Front!” An hour or two later the men -behind the desk were at leisure again when “Ed” Wallace strolled up. -To him the night-clerk imparted the information that the Senator was -having some sort of a séance in his rooms, incidentally mentioning who -were there.</p> - -<p>Wallace hastened over to the corner where several members of that -unorganized organization, “the political combination,” the brightest -reporters of the big newspapers, were exchanging reminiscences. “The -most news with the least work” is the motto of the “combination.” It -means that whatever news one of them gets, all get—with considerably -less labor than if each worked independently, and with the chance of a -rival newspaper scoring a “beat” reduced to the minimum.</p> - -<p>Various theories as to the meaning of the conference upstairs were -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> -suggested and rejected. The five men in the Senator’s rooms were not -political allies—that the reporters well knew. That they were all, -with the exception perhaps of the Western representative, warm personal -friends, they knew equally well. But despite its knowledge of the men -and its familiarity with the political situation, the “combination” was -unable to deduce anything that could be printed.</p> - -<p>“I’ll give it up,” said Stanley Titus. “The only thing I see is for -Wallace to go upstairs and see what is going on. The Senator will talk -to him if he’ll talk to anyone, and perhaps we can get a line on what’s -doing.”</p> - -<p>When Wallace, two minutes later, knocked on the door of the Senator’s -sitting-room, it was the Senator himself who opened it—just about two -inches—and peered impatiently into the hall.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s you, is it, Wallace?” he said. “Well, my boy, what can I do -for you?”</p> - -<p>“The combination would like to know if you have anything to say for -publication about the conference that is going on in there,” replied -Wallace.</p> - -<p>The Senator put his head a little farther out the door. “I will tell -you something, but you will understand that it is not for publication,” -he said, dropping his voice to a whisper as Wallace leaned forward -expectantly. “I’ve got all the blues.” And the door was shut in -Wallace’s face.</p> - -<p>But there were no chips or cards on the table to which the Senator -returned after shutting the door. The five men, their wrinkled brows -betokening hard thinking, were intently studying neatly tabulated -statements—long rows of figures—that might mean much or little, -depending entirely on the observer’s information as to their purpose.</p> - -<p>“As I was saying,” the Senator began, taking up the conversation -where he had dropped it to answer the knock, “I am fully convinced -that $10,000,000 will see it through. Out of that the expenses of -engineering the deal will amount to, say, a million. The actual -expenses of collection should not exceed more than ten per cent., and I -believe with Mr. Connors that a good part of it can be done with five -per cent. That million is all we stand to lose, for the rest will be -invested in goods worth their face value, whether the plan succeeds -or fails. I believe that it will succeed and I am ready to guarantee -one-fourth of the sum needed. If each of the others present, with the -exception of Mr. Connors, will do the same, we will have the money. As -Mr. Connors is the originator of the plan and will have to superintend -the carrying out of the details, I think that without being expected to -invest any money he should receive one-tenth of the net profits, and -the residue can be divided equally among the rest of us.”</p> - -<p>There were no dissenters to the Senator’s proposition, least of all -Tom Connors. After some little discussion as to details, the date for -carrying out the plan was fixed as the first Friday in October, or -rather the first Friday and Saturday, as it was calculated that two -days would be required to consummate the work.</p> - -<p>When the conference adjourned an hour later Mr. Higgins, the former -comptroller, Representative Woods and the Senator each had agreed to -have by the first day of September $2,500,000 in available cash, which -Mr. Martin, the banker, joining with $2,500,000 of his own, could -utilize in carrying out the scheme proposed by Tom Connors, who in lieu -of capital had pledged himself to an immense amount of hard work, in -consideration of which he was to receive one-tenth of the profits.</p> - -<p>There was no good reason for calling it the Fractional Currency Bill, -for in reality it was an anti-fractional currency bill. It provided -that after the fifteenth day of September the Government of the United -States should not issue or cause to be issued, or coin or cause to be -coined, any half-dollars, quarters, dimes, nickels, two-cent pieces -or pennies, and also that none of the fractional currency already in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> -existence in the possession of the United States should be put into -circulation for a period of five years after the date on which the law -became operative.</p> - -<p>The bill made its appearance in the House and Senate a few days after -the opening of the special session called by the President to meet -on the twelfth day of July. Strange to say, neither the Senator nor -Representative Woods seemed to be much interested in it. Both voted -for it after having made brief speeches in its support, but they were -only two of many that did the same. The father of the bill in the House -was Hicks, of California, and in his State the measure was known as -the Hicks bill. The patron of the measure in the Senate was Gordon, of -Maine. Neither of these men heretofore had been recognized as having -much influence with their associates, but in this instance their pet -bill at once found favor in the eyes of their colleagues.</p> - -<p>It is a peculiar thing about the American law-maker—the real author -of legislation—that he seldom, if ever, appears at the front. He -is content that some of the small fry shall have the distinction of -fathering the laws and be recorded in history as the men who did -this or that for their country’s good. The real leaders of American -political life and actions seem to think that post-mortem fame is more -than outweighed by more substantial ante-mortem things.</p> - -<p>Simple as the measure seemed to read, so equally simple were the -strongest arguments used in its support. The actual metal in a -penny was worth perhaps the tenth of a penny. There was a startling -difference between the face value and the bullion value of the nickel. -Even the silver coins if offered as metal in the open market would -fetch less than half the amount that they called for. Eventually, if -more and more of these “tokens of value” were issued, the people would -refuse to accept them except far below par. The time to stop such -depreciation was before it had begun, the supporters of the measure in -both houses declared, and there was none to gainsay them. Those who had -always opposed the greenback theory could not consistently oppose this -line of reasoning. So the bill in its transition into law met little -opposition.</p> - -<p>Strange to say, the newspapers, not even the tragedy-shrieking, -sensation-making, scandal-hunting ones, saw aught in the Fractional -Currency Bill to make it worth more than a casual mention. What was -said about it was good. One or two of the Far West publications who had -viewed with dismay the gradually increasing number of pennies in their -vicinity, welcomed it openly and gladly, for they felt that it would -avert the possibility of reducing their prices to the one, two or three -cent standard of the East. The Eastern newspapers that had been cutting -each other’s throats by selling twelve and sixteen pages of printed -matter at less than the cost of the white paper itself, saw in the -measure, if as predicted it resulted in the gradual withdrawal of the -penny from circulation, a chance to demand and receive a higher price -for their issues without being hurt by the lower prices of rivals. -Naturally, the newspapers did not oppose the measure.</p> - -<p>As for the people—what do the American people, individually, know or -care what is done in Washington? For the most part the knowledge of -the community at large is confined to what it reads of the doings of -Congress in the Washington letters and to the criticisms it sees in -its pet editorial columns. If nothing is said about a particular bill, -the public knows nothing. Merchants, bankers, shipping interests, -railroads, labor unions, are aroused to action only when they see in -a bill an attempt to work injury to themselves. In the case of the -Fractional Currency Bill those who knew of it saw nothing in it likely -to injure them, and so there was no opposition.</p> - -<p>Thus it was that the bill prohibiting the issue of the fractional -currency of the United States for a period of five years from the -fifteenth day of September received the signature of the President and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> -was duly recorded among the laws of the nation.</p> - -<p>Seven o’clock in the morning of the first Friday in October found Tom -Connors at his desk in his offices on the second floor of the Safe -Deposit Building. He had rented a suite of rooms there several months -before and had put on the door the simple sign, “Thomas E. Connors, -Broker.” There was nothing unusual about the appearance of the office. -In the anteroom there were a few chairs, a table and an office-boy. -In another room a leased wire was run in and a telegraph operator was -seated. In the office of the “broker” himself there were only such -paraphernalia as might be found in any broker’s office.</p> - -<p>Even in an inner room there was hardly anything to arouse suspicion. -Some persons might have wondered a little if they had noticed that what -was to all appearances a door of a coat-closet in reality opened on a -secret staircase that led directly to the floor below and into one of -the strong rooms of the Safe Deposit Company of which Mr. Martin, the -banker, was president.</p> - -<p>It was not very many minutes after the arrival of his employer that the -office-boy realized to his regret that Friday was to be almost as busy -a day for him as the day before had been. Ordinarily, he had had plenty -of time to read his favorite literature, interrupted perhaps by a dozen -callers and half a dozen errands to do, but on Thursday he had observed -sorrowfully that Mr. Connors’s clients seemed to be increasing. If he -had kept count he might have known that no less and no more than one -hundred persons had called on Mr. Connors. Mr. Connors saw all of them. -Some of them he saw alone. Others were admitted to his room by twos and -threes. In one instance ten men entered the inner office and emerged -from it twenty minutes later in a body. But what all those men were -doing there was not of half so much interest to the office-boy as was -the fate of Daredevil Mike, whom the end of the chapter had left facing -the muzzles of seven rifles in the hands of seven desperate moonshiners.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the office-boy’s respect for Mr. Connors’s callers would have -been increased had he known that each of the men when he left the -office had a package of one-dollar bills. There was not one of them -that had not at least $100; others had as much as $500. There was not -one of them that Mr. Connors did not know was to be trusted thoroughly. -The men were carefully selected. Some of them on previous occasions -during political campaigns had been supplied with money by Mr. Connors -to be distributed in the places where it would do the most good. A few -of them were not unknown in the records of crime, but as Mr. Connors -had remarked to Martin, the banker, to whom he had shown the list, -“There ain’t one of them that would throw down a friend.”</p> - -<p>One of these men had arrived in the office shortly after Mr. Connors, -and as soon as he was admitted to the private office and the door had -been shut, he exclaimed:</p> - -<p>“Say, Connors, that was a regular cinch. It did not take me more than -an hour to clean up that market. No explanations had to be made, either.”</p> - -<p>“Where’s the stuff?” asked Mr. Connors bruskly, and Mullins, his -caller, began emptying on the desk from every pocket in his clothing a -varied assortment of small change.</p> - -<p>“You’ll find there’s ninety-five dollars there all right, as per -agreement,” said Mullins. “I didn’t have to spend much over a dollar, -either. It was a package of tobacco here and some potatoes for the old -woman there, where some old codger wouldn’t give me change unless I -bought something. But in most cases I would go to a stall and tell them -a neighbor wanted five dollars in small change till the bank opened, -and nearly every time I would get it. I don’t believe there’s a hundred -pennies left in that market.”</p> - -<p>While he had been talking a clerk from the Safe Deposit Company had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> -entered Mr. Connors’s office by the private staircase. He carried to -the room below the money Mullins had turned in, returning shortly with -two receipt slips, one of which went to Mr. Connors and the other to -his caller.</p> - -<p>“Now, Mullins,” said Mr. Connors, “I want you to go up to the big -cable-car barn where the conductors turn in their money. Here’s $500 -more, and stay there until you are relieved. If you run out of money -telephone me. Get in some inconspicuous corner and pass the word around -among the conductors that ninety-five pennies or nineteen nickels are -worth a dollar to you. If they want to know what is up tell them that -it is a theatrical advertising dodge; tell them that you are writing a -story for a Sunday newspaper—tell them anything.”</p> - -<p>Hardly had Mullins been dismissed when another of the syndicate’s -agents came in to report and was hurried off to some other part of the -city. In some cases the men received an allowance of five per cent. on -all the money they handled. In other cases it was a little more. So the -work went on all that day and the next. Ten men were kept at work in -ten sections of the city seeing that paper money replaced the silver, -nickels and coppers in the tills of the small shops. Few, if any, of -the shopkeepers realized that anything was amiss. The agents were all -instructed to do their work without arousing any suspicion. They had -orders every time they rode on a surface-car or patronized the Elevated -roads to offer a dollar bill in payment of their fare. Wherever they -saw an opportunity to get a bill changed they took it.</p> - -<p>A clerk of the Safe Deposit Company reported at noon to Mr. Connors -that 12,071,624 pennies, 437,589 nickels, 366,427 dimes, 444,886 -quarters and 139,553 half-dollars had been turned in by the assiduous -collectors. Telegrams received from Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago and -various other cities showed that the efforts there had met with equal -success. With the $3,000,000 in small change that Mr. Connors had -succeeded in amassing in the preceding weeks through banks and money -brokers, he was well satisfied.</p> - -<p>At three o’clock on Friday afternoon there was not a bank in the city -that had not had its store of small change much depleted by the raids -of the dry-goods and department stores. Half an hour later an organized -descent was made on all the big department stores by the agents of the -syndicate. Ninety of the collectors—the others being still engaged -elsewhere, according to orders previously issued, their movements being -known only to Mr. Tom Connors—visited in succession the biggest stores -in the shopping district, making in various departments a series of -purchases of articles advertised at four cents or six cents, or some -other small sum that meant at least ninety cents in change from a -dollar bill. When Friday evening came the syndicate had succeeded in -stripping the shopping district of all its small change.</p> - -<p>The work of collecting on Saturday was necessarily much slower, but -when Saturday evening came the syndicate had nearly $9,000,000 in -fractional currency in its possession and everyone was wondering what -made change so scarce. The grand <i>coup</i> was effected at midnight -Saturday night. Agents of the syndicate were waiting with paper money -at the headquarters of all the penny-in-the-slot machines. More than a -million dollars, mostly of pennies, was hurried in guarded trucks to -the Safe Deposit offices.</p> - -<p>On Sunday afternoon there was another conference in the Senator’s -rooms. Connors submitted his report. He told how the markets, -the car-barns, the “L” stations, the department stores, the -five-and-ten-cent shops had been skilfully but legally looted of all -their small change. Not only in one city but in all cities of over -ten thousand inhabitants had this been done successfully. There was -triumph in his tones as he read the final figures: “Cost of collection, -$482,621. Total small change in vaults, $9,464,867.63.”</p> - -<p>The Senator smiled a satisfied smile.</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” said he, “I think we can safely say that our corner is -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> -complete. We have cornered the small change. The department stores, the -street railways, business everywhere will be at a standstill tomorrow. -Small change is essential to modern business. The business men must -have it. They must come to <i>us</i> for it. If business stops for a single -day, there is hardly a large establishment that can survive. We have -them at our mercy! How merciful we are to be, Mr. Martin, I think we -should leave to you.”</p> - -<p>The others nodded assent.</p> - -<p>Mr. Martin adjusted his glasses. He took Mr. Connors’s report and -glanced at it with deliberation.</p> - -<p>“As the Senator observed,” he began, “the retail business houses must -have small change. They must have pennies. Even on Saturday afternoon -they were trying to get them. They were offering premiums. As high as -six dollars was offered for five dollars in pennies. By Monday noon, -with disaster, with suspension, with failure before them, they will -gladly pay any price for small change.”</p> - -<p>“But, gentlemen”—the banker smiled a philanthropic smile—“we must be -generous. We can offer the retailers liberal terms—we can offer them -all the small change they want for immediate delivery by Monday noon. -We can make the terms seven dollars for five dollars in small change. -From what I know of the conditions, I am confident that all the small -change we have amassed will be gladly taken at that price. We have on -hand in round numbers nine and one-half millions. For this we will -receive $13,300,000. Deducting our capital, and the half-million that -it cost us for collection, this will still leave us $2,800,000, or -something more than a half million apiece after Mr. Connors has had his -tenth.”</p> - -<p>Monday dawned bright and clear, and Mr. Martin was early in reaching -his office at the Safe Deposit Company. So was Mr. Connors. The last -thing on Saturday night circulars had been mailed to all the principal -retailers and to the street railway companies announcing that the Safe -Deposit Company was prepared to supply an unlimited amount of small -change on short notice.</p> - -<p>“The street-cars caught it hard this morning,” whispered Mr. Connors as -he dropped downstairs for a moment to see how things were going. “How -are things progressing? Any answers to the circulars yet?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Martin shook his head, but he glanced at the clock.</p> - -<p>“It’s too early,” he said. “It’ll take them an hour or two to realize -what a bad situation they are in.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose it will,” said Connors as he went upstairs to send out scouts.</p> - -<p>An hour later he was back downstairs in Mr. Martin’s office. The -Senator was there, too. Both he and Martin looked worried.</p> - -<p>“Say,” said Connors, “something’s gone wrong somewhere. The department -stores seem to be doing business the same as ever. And there’s pennies -everywhere!”</p> - -<p>“That’s just what the Senator was telling me,” said Mr. Martin, with a -puzzled air.</p> - -<p>“Well, where in blazes are all the pennies coming from?” demanded -Connors angrily.</p> - -<p>“That is just what Mr. Martin and I expected you to tell us!” said the -Senator severely. “Did you clean out all the small change from the markets?”</p> - -<p>“And from the department stores?” echoed the banker.</p> - -<p>“And from the car-barns?”</p> - -<p>“And from the five-and-ten-cent stores?”</p> - -<p>“And from the slot machines?”</p> - -<p>“And from the children’s banks?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and from a thousand places more!” said Connors.</p> - -<p>“How about the churches?” asked the Senator slowly.</p> - -<p>All three looked blank. They understood now why the corner had failed.</p> - -<p>For everybody knows that, no matter what happens, there are always -plenty of pennies in the church collection plates. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="STRAPS" id="STRAPS"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Car Straps as Disease Spreaders</i></h2></div> - -<p class="center space-below1">BY JOHN H. GIRDNER, M.D.</p> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE leather straps in the street-cars of New York and all -other cities, to which people have to hang when unable to get a seat, are not only -unmentionably filthy, but they are a means of spreading disease. Each -one of these straps is a focus of infection, a continual repository and -source of supply of every kind of disease germ and about every kind of -filth known to mankind. These car straps are made of leather. They are -riveted around the pole from which they hang, when the car is built, -and there they remain until they or the car are worn out. They are -never removed to be cleaned or disinfected. And they are never renewed -until the old one is rotten from age and use. Thousands upon thousands -of all sorts and conditions of people, hailing from everywhere and with -every imaginable variety of filth and infection befouling their hands -and fingers, grasp these straps at all hours of the day and night.</p> - -<p>Some idea of the conglomeration of materials which these thousands of -hands deposit, remove and mix up on the car straps might safely be left -to the imagination. Microscopic examination of scrapings taken from -straps in use on cars in New York City has revealed infectious material -and filth of all kinds. Cultures made from these scrapings and injected -into guinea pigs caused their death in a few hours.</p> - -<p>Car straps may readily be the means of conveying the virus of some -of the most loathsome diseases, especially those attended with a -discharge, or where there are open ulcers or eruption on the skin. In -traveling about the city people hold on to the car straps from a few -minutes to half an hour. The perspiration of the hand moistens the -leather and whatever of filth or virus happens to be on the hand is -literally soaked into the strap and there it remains until another -hand comes along and carries some of it away or makes another deposit -of similar character or both. It is true that the skin everywhere, and -especially the thick skin on the hands, is an excellent protection -against poisonous material brought into contact with it, otherwise man -could not live at all. Here is a good example of what is meant: You -might cover your entire arm with vaccine virus and it would not “take” -if the entire skin was intact, but scratch it ever so little, making a -small raw spot, and the virus enters the system and you have all the -symptoms of a successful vaccination. So it is in handling straps which -have been handled by others with virus of any kind on their hands; if -there are no raw or sore places on your hand you are not in danger, -but a slight abrasion, a cut or hang-nail may be sufficient to cause -infection, as happened to a patient of mine only recently.</p> - -<p>There is another danger: virus on the hand may be carried to the eyes -by the fingers and cause mischief when there is no abrasion on the hand -to admit it to the system.</p> - -<p>Aside from the dangers pointed out, there is the esthetic side. It is -far from pleasant to hold on to one of these straps if one stops to -think what may be, and what certainly is, on the strap. You can put on -gloves; but it is not even pleasant to think of wallowing one’s gloves -in such material.</p> - -<p>You cannot disinfect leather without destroying it; even if these -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> -leather straps could be removed from the poles. Here is the remedy: -Use straps made of webbing instead of leather, and attach them to the -poles with a device which would make it possible to remove the straps -readily. Remove the straps at proper intervals, once a month or so, -and thoroughly disinfect them with heat and formaldehyde. They will -come out of this thoroughly cleaned and without injury to the strap -itself. Webbing straps are stronger than leather. Tests made at Brown -University of the comparative tensile strength of the two materials -showed that, while leather straps of the regulation kind broke under -400 or 500 pounds, it took 600 and 700 pounds to break webbing straps. -The webbing strap is also more pleasant to grasp in the hand than leather.</p> - -<p>Every argument is in favor of substituting webbing for leather as -material for car straps except the small item of expense to the -companies of making the change. The cost of disinfecting them from time -to time would be trifling. The president of the Board of Health of New -York City has, in fact, expressed his willingness to disinfect the -straps free of charge to the companies, if they will bring the straps -to the department’s disinfecting plant at such intervals as he shall designate.</p> - -<p>Spitting in cars is properly prohibited because there is some danger -of spreading tuberculosis by this means. And it is also a practice -revolting to well-bred people. As a means of conveying the germs of a -number of loathsome diseases, the present car straps are more dangerous -than is spitting on the floor. And it is certainly revolting to a man -or woman of ordinary habits of cleanliness to be obliged to hang on to -a piece of leather which is so filthy that one would not touch it under -any other circumstances.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="f120"><i>His Profanitaciturnity</i></p> - -<p class="drop-cap">“DEACON Timothy Tush is a man of few words,” said -the landlord of the Pruntytown tavern, “but he makes ’em count.</p> - -<p>“Of course, it was aggravating enough to have caused ’most anybody -to indulge in any kind of language that came to hand, and plenty of -it—to have the hired man cut up such a dido. To be sure, foolishness -is bound up in the heart of a hired man; but Deacon Timothy’s hired -man went further than the law allows when he attempted to smoke out a -hornet’s nest up in the barn loft, with a skillet of live coals and -two spoonfuls of sulphur; after, of course, having driven up with an -ox-cart of hay and clumb up into the loft and found the nest. Being a -hired man, he couldn’t possibly act any other way.</p> - -<p>“He did exactly what might have been expected when a hornet stung him -on the neck; he jumped backward, stuck his foot through a rotten board -and flung the live coals in every direction. The Deacon was coming -along with old Juckett, the horse doctor, just as the hired man tumbled -out of the loft door, considerably afire and literally infested with -hornets, and landed on the load of hay, setting fire to that, too. The -oxen ran over the Deacon and old Juckett, scattered burning hay ’most -everywhere, tore the cart to flinders, and would have burnt up the -whole place if it hadn’t been for the neighbors.</p> - -<p>“As it was, barn, cart and load of hay were totally destroyed, the oxen -singed, the Deacon sadly battered, old Juckett’s left leg broken, and -the hired man so unanimously stung and fried that the doctor said he -really didn’t know where to begin on him. And—but, let’s see! Where -was I? Oh, yes! All the Deacon said when it happened was ‘Suzz! suzz!’ -but I can’t help thinking it was the most profane suzzing I ever had -the pleasure of listening to.” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<a name="REFORM" id="REFORM"> </a> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>The Say of Reform Editors</i></h2></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE Reform editor is a political waif on the -tempestuous sea of strife.</p> - -<p>It would have been money in his pocket if he had never been born.</p> - -<p>He has a devil part of the time, and a devil of a time all the time.</p> - -<p>The smallest thing about him is his pocketbook and the largest his -delinquent list.</p> - -<p>He says more kind things of other people and gets more “cussings” than -any other man living.</p> - -<p>When he first takes the job of reforming the world he thinks it can be -finished in six months or a year.</p> - -<p>Then he puts it off another year and borrows some money of his -father-in-law.</p> - -<p>Then he enlists for three years or more during the war and borrows some -more money.</p> - -<p>At this stage of the game he takes a new grip on the situation and -starts in to finish up the job in the next campaign.</p> - -<p>But a cog slips and the dadgummed thing slides merrily down the broad -road to destruction.</p> - -<p>The editor tears his hair and says some cuss words.</p> - -<p>The devil grins and throws the shooting-stick at the office cat.</p> - -<p>Every opposition paper trots out its rooster, and the editor waits for -the world to come to an end or the moon to turn to blood.</p> - -<p>At this point in the proceedings it is time to borrow some more money.</p> - -<p>He would quit business, but he can’t.</p> - -<p>When a man undertakes to reform the world he is never out of a job.</p> - -<p>He always sees something that needs his attention.</p> - -<p>But the Reform editor is made of the right kind of metal.</p> - -<p>He is always out of money, but seldom out of heart.</p> - -<p>He used to dream of the time when he could bathe his wearied feet in -the rippling waters of success.</p> - -<p>When every man would do unto his brother as he would have his brother -to do unto him.</p> - -<p>When in Utopia’s green fields and by the side of its babbling brooks he -could end his days.</p> - -<p>But he is over that now.</p> - -<p>All he can do is to attract some attention and set the people to -thinking.</p> - -<p>Here’s to the Reform editor.</p> - -<p>He may have chosen a rough and tempestuous road, but the lightning -strokes of his gifted pen and thunder tones of his voice will purify -the moral and political atmosphere.—<i>Morgan’s Buzz Saw.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">A reader</span> of <i>The Commoner</i> asks where he -can secure a copy of a book entitled ‘Ten Men on Money Isle.’ If anyone -who is able to give the information will send it to <i>The Commoner</i> on -a postal card the information will be published for the benefit of the -readers.”</p> - -<p>And the foregoing from Bryan’s <i>Commoner</i>!</p> - -<p>“Ten Men on Money Isle” is one of Colonel S. F. Norton’s best books, -and one of the most popular on the money question. It is a book that -made thousands of converts to Populism, the triumph of which gave Mr. -Bryan two terms in Congress and placed him prominently before the -American people. Every Populist newspaper advertised it, quoted it and -praised it. Greenbackers, alliancers, union laborites, socialists, -single taxers, students of political economy and sociology and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> -everybody else with intelligence and energy enough to give attention -to public questions, were familiar with the modest little book and its -author. And yet W. J. Bryan, the child of Populism, never heard of -it—doesn’t know his political father, as it were. Oh, pshaw! You can’t -fool me! Bryan isn’t that ignorant.—<i>The People’s Banner.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">If</span> the Populist vote was thrown out in all other counties -as it was in Monroe, Tom Watson should have had about 5,000 votes in Iowa this -election. One thing sure, the Republican papers admit that 75,000 legal -voters in Iowa did not vote this year 1904; that means that over a -hundred thousand did not vote. There was no choice between Parker and -Roosevelt, and these men thought Watson could not win, so they did not -vote.—<i>Iowa Educator.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">We</span> look upon the battle of Waterloo as a tremendous catastrophe -because 57,000 people were killed in that memorable conflict, but in ten years -the railroads of the United States have killed 78,152 persons, and all -for the sake of earning dividends on watered stock. How many Waterloos -are comparatively soon forgotten!—<i>Field and Farm.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">On</span> Christmas Eve a private conference of prominent Bryan -Democrats was held in Lincoln, Neb., at which Mr. Bryan presided, having for -its purpose the development of a scheme to re-Bryanize the Democratic -party and put out another bait for the Populists. The details of -the plan will, no doubt, be given out at an early day. The Pops -have been gold-bricked by Democrats enough to learn that any plan, -promise or pledge from that source has nothing good for them in it. -Keep in the middle of the road! Don’t be caught by these political -trimmers!—<i>Southern Mercury.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">Roosevelt</span> wants Congress to provide work for the Indians -on the reservations. The Indians won’t work. Nothing is said about the two -million men who are out of work. To provide them with jobs would be -to disband the great army of the unemployed, without which capitalism -could not exist.—<i>Iowa Educator.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">President Roosevelt</span> says there should be no rebates -allowed on freight rates by the railroads. It is plain to be seen that if we had -government ownership the President would not allow “rebates,” but it is -safe to say nothing will be done, for these railway corporations have a -way to interest members of Congress in these profits, so that no law to -curb them can be got through Congress. If we had government ownership -even a Republican President would give us relief, but as it is he is -powerless.—<i>The Forum, Denver, Col.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is easy to see now that the St. Louis -convention was the crowning event of damphoolishness.</p> - -<p>Almost anyone can be fooled part of the time, but nobody but a fool can -be fooled all the time.</p> - -<p>The yellow-hammers that are now in control of the Democratic party -insist that they are going to hold on.</p> - -<p>The consensus of opinion among Populists seems to be that they won’t -take any more of Dr. Bryan’s medicine.</p> - -<p>The Democratic party may not be dead, but it is disfigured beyond -recognition, crippled beyond recovery, and disgraced beyond redemption.</p> - -<p>As principle has been abandoned, and there are not enough offices to -go round, there is nothing to hold the pieces of the Democratic party together.</p> - -<p>There is a man down in Texas who is so particular as to “what’s in a -name” that he won’t kiss a “grass widow” for fear of catching the “hay fever.”</p> - -<p>If the South will set its face forward instead of backward it will see -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> -the dawn of a new era, an era that will make her the mistress of the -commerce of the world.</p> - -<p>One of the most spectacular scenes ever exhibited in this old world of -ours is presented by a lot of laboring men howling for what they want -and voting for what they don’t want.</p> - -<p>When the politicians of the South want to steal something, or do -some other mean thing, they dig up the “nigger domination snake” -in order to distract the attention of the people from their own -meanness.—<i>Morgan’s Buzz Saw.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">Reformers</span> make a mistake in thinking all the reform element -is outside of the Republican party. The greatest obstruction today in the way of -reform is the Democratic party. If it would gently sink to rest as the -Whig party did, the forceful men in the Republican party would lead a -movement that would give us quick and substantial relief. Seventy-five -per cent. of the Republicans have advanced ideas and are anxious for -reform. To be sure, the party is in the strong clutch of greed, as -much so as the Democratic party was in 1850, but the Whig party had -the good sense to die in 1854, and the Free Soil Democrats, the strong -men of the then dominant party, came out and formed the Republican -party, a party of the people, by the people and for the people. And -this party would have given us splendid service in economic reforms -had not the great Civil War required its attention; while the nation -was torn by this internecine struggle the vampires of greed, who have -no politics, fastened themselves upon this grand new party, and long -before peace came were so intrenched in power that such men as Lincoln, -Morton, Wade, Stevens and a host of other great Republican leaders were -compelled to bow in submission. They saw and comprehended the dire -results that would follow the machination of these ghoulish hounds of -hell, but they were powerless.</p> - -<p>Wade and Stevens were moved to tears, Lincoln’s soul was torn by grief. -“We submit,” said Stevens, “to save the life of a nation.”</p> - -<p>Thus did grasping greed take advantage of our extremity and make the -struggle for existence a strife more fierce than war.—<i>The Forum, -Denver, Col.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">Back</span> of all politics is the System. What the System -is we now know fairly well from the exposures of Ida Tarbell, Steffens, Lawson and -others. The System is not a political but an industrial form of -control. Its rewards and punishments are economic. The greater part of -the population of the United States lives under conditions of economic -slavery of one kind or another. Political liberty does not in any way -mean or guarantee industrial liberty. Hence the impending revolution in -this country is not to be political but industrial.—<i>Tomorrow.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">A hundred</span> thinkers grow gray a-thinking; -a hundred discoverers grow old a-discovering; a financier comes -along, grabs the theories and the finds, hires folks to straighten -’em out, and rides in his automobile while the poor fellows of ideas -eat mush and water by the roadside. The men who do brain-work get the -crust-crumbs which fall from the commercial sponge-cake. Brains are -poor collaterals to raise money on.—<i>The Scythe of Progress.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Saturday Evening Post</i> says that there is -to be a new deal in politics. It predicts a realignment and declares that “there -is a great body of Republicans who really belong on the Democratic side, -and a smaller, but still large number of Democrats who ought to be -Republicans.” Let the exchange take place—the sooner the better. -Harmony in belief and in purpose is the only basis of co-operation in -politics.—<i>The Commoner.</i></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><span class="smcap">There</span> is no danger of Bryan stealing the Populist -platform while Tom Watson is standing on it.—<i>Morgan’s Buzz Saw.</i></p> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="f200"><b>COPYRIGHT BOOKS</b></p> - -<p class="f90">IN ATTRACTIVE PAPER BINDING.<br />COVERS ILLUSTRATED FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS IN FIVE COLORS</p> - -<p class="f150"><b>PRICE, 25 CENTS</b></p> - -<table border="0" cellspacing="0" summary=" " cellpadding="0" > - <tbody><tr> - <td class="tdl bigfont"><b>SPECIAL OFFER: </b></td> - <td class="tdc"><b>FIVE FOR ONE DOLLAR,<br />SENT POSTAGE PAID</b></td> - </tr> - </tbody> -</table> - -<p class="center"><i>SELECT FROM THE FOLLOWING LIST:</i></p> - -<table border="0" cellspacing="0" summary=" " cellpadding="0" > - <tbody><tr> - <td class="tdr">1—</td> - <td class="tdl">AN UNSPEAKABLE SIREN</td> - <td class="tdr">John Gilliat</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">2—</td> - <td class="tdl">SANTA TERESA</td> - <td class="tdr">William T. Whitlock</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">3—</td> - <td class="tdl">A DEBTOR TO PLEASURE</td> - <td class="tdr">Louise Winter</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">4—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE WRONG MAN</td> - <td class="tdr">Champion Bissell</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">5—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE SKIRTS OF CHANCE</td> - <td class="tdr">Captain Thompson</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">6—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE GAME OF GLORIS</td> - <td class="tdr">Brunswick Earlington</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">7—</td> - <td class="tdl">NAUGHTY ELIZABETH</td> - <td class="tdr">Mark Livingston</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">8—</td> - <td class="tdl">SIX MONTHS IN HADES</td> - <td class="tdr">Clarice Irene Clingham</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">9—</td> - <td class="tdl">AN ECLIPSE OF VIRTUE</td> - <td class="tdr">Champion Bissell</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">10—</td> - <td class="tdl">ON THE ALTAR OF PASSION</td> - <td class="tdr">John Gilliat</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">11—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE HUNT FOR HAPPINESS</td> - <td class="tdr">Anita Vivanti Chartres</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">12—</td> - <td class="tdl">A PRINCE OF IMPUDENCE</td> - <td class="tdr">Charles Stokes Wayne</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">13—</td> - <td class="tdl">MARGARET’S MISADVENTURE</td> - <td class="tdr">A. S. Van Westrum</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">14—</td> - <td class="tdl">A DEAL IN DENVER</td> - <td class="tdr">Gilmer McKendree</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">15—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE TEMPTATION OF CURZON</td> - <td class="tdr">Louise Winter</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">16—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE COUSIN OF THE KING</td> - <td class="tdr">A. S. Van Westrum</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">17—</td> - <td class="tdl">THAT DREADFUL WOMAN</td> - <td class="tdr">H. R. Vynne</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">18—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE FOOD OF LOVE</td> - <td class="tdr">J. H. Twells, Jr.</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">19—</td> - <td class="tdl">A MARRIAGE FOR HATE</td> - <td class="tdr">H. R. Vynne</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">20—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE FAMINE OF HEARTS</td> - <td class="tdr">Anne MacGregor</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">21—</td> - <td class="tdl">A WITCH OF TO-DAY</td> - <td class="tdr">Charles Stokes Wayne</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">22—</td> - <td class="tdl">A MARTYR TO LOVE</td> - <td class="tdr">Joanna E. Wood</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">23—</td> - <td class="tdl">HALF A WIFE</td> - <td class="tdr">Louise Winter</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">24—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE KISS THAT KILLED</td> - <td class="tdr">Percival Pollard</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">25—</td> - <td class="tdl">HER STRANGE EXPERIMENT</td> - <td class="tdr">H. R. Vynne</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">26—</td> - <td class="tdl">FETTERS THAT SEAR</td> - <td class="tdr">H. R. Vynne</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">27—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE MAN AND THE SOUBRETTE  </td> - <td class="tdr">Blanche Cerf</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">28—</td> - <td class="tdl">TOO MANY MAIDENS</td> - <td class="tdr">Edward S. Van Zile</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">29—</td> - <td class="tdl">CUPID’S HOUSE PARTY</td> - <td class="tdr">Justus Miles Forman</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">30—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE MAN’S PREROGATIVE</td> - <td class="tdr">Edward S. Van Zile</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">31—</td> - <td class="tdl">SWEET SIN</td> - <td class="tdr">T. Ledyard Smith</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">32—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE ASHES OF DESIRE</td> - <td class="tdr">John Louis Berry, Jr.</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">33—</td> - <td class="tdl">A VERY REMARKABLE GIRL</td> - <td class="tdr">L. H. Bickford</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">34—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE SALE OF A SOUL</td> - <td class="tdr">C. M. S. McLellan</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">35—</td> - <td class="tdl">PAINT AND PETTICOATS</td> - <td class="tdr">John Gilliat</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">36—</td> - <td class="tdl">PRINCESS ENIGMA</td> - <td class="tdr">Clinton Ross</td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="tdr">37—</td> - <td class="tdl">THE MASTER CHIVALRY</td> - <td class="tdr">Margaret Lee</td> - </tr> -</tbody> -</table> - -<p class="center"><i>Sent Postpaid on Receipt of Price, 25c.<br /> -Send Money Order, Registered Letter or Stamps to</i></p> - -<p class="center">THE SMART SET PUBLISHING CO., 452 Fifth Avenue, New York</p> -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="bigfont no-indent"><b>“TOM WATSON”</b></p> -<p class="blockquot no-indent">is the one historian through whom we get the point -of view of the laborer, the mechanic, the plain man, in a style that is -bold, racy and unconventional. There is no other who traces so vividly -the life of a <i>people</i> from the time they were savages until they -became the most polite and cultured of European nations, as he does in</p> - -<p class="bigfont no-indent"><b>THE STORY OF FRANCE</b></p> -<p class="center">In two handsome volumes, dark red cloth, gilt tops, price $5.00.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>“It is well called a story, for it reads like a fascinating -romance.”—<i>Plaindealer</i>, Cleveland.</p> - -<p class="space-below2">“A most brilliant, vigorous, human-hearted story this: -so broad in its sympathies, so vigorous in its presentations, so vital, so -piquant, lively and interesting. It will be read wherever the history -of France interests men, which is everywhere.”—<i>New York Times’ Sat. Review.</i></p> -</div> - -<p class="bigfont no-indent"><b>NAPOLEON</b></p> -<p class="center"><b>A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE, CHARACTER,<br />STRUGGLES AND ACHIEVEMENTS.</b></p> - -<p class="center">Illustrated with Portraits and Facsimiles.<br /> -Cloth, 8vo, $2.25 net. (Postage 20c.)</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>“The Splendid Study of a Splendid Genius” is the caption of a -double-column editorial mention of this book in <i>The New York American -and Journal</i> when it first appeared. The comment urged every reader of -that paper to read the book and continued:</p> - -<p>“There does not live a man who will not be enlarged in his thinking -processes, there does not live a boy who will not be made more -ambitious by honest study of Watson’s Napoleon * * *</p> - -<p>“If you want the best obtainable, most readable, most intelligent, -most genuinely American study of this great character, read Watson’s -history of Napoleon.”</p> -</div> - -<p class="bigfont no-indent"><b>“TOM WATSON”</b></p> <p -class="blockquot no-indent">in these books does far more than make -history as readable as a novel of the best sort. He tells the truth -with fire and life, not only of events and causes, but of their -consequences to and their influence on the great mass of people at large. -They are epoch-making books which every American should read and own.</p> - -<p class="center space-above2 space-below2">Orders for the above books will be filled by<br /> -<span class="smcap">Tom Watson’s Magazine</span>, 121 West 42nd Street, New York City.</p> - -<div class="transnote bbox"> -<p class="f120 space-above1">Transcriber’s Notes:</p> -<hr class="r5" /> -<p class="indent">Antiquated spellings were preserved.</p> -<p class="indent">Typographical errors have been silently corrected. </p> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tom Watson's Magazine, Vol. I, No. 1, -March 1905, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM WATSON'S MAGAZINE, MARCH 1905 *** - -***** This file should be named 62797-h.htm or 62797-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/7/9/62797/ - -Produced by hekula03, Paul Marshall and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from images made available by the -HathiTrust Digital Library.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/62797-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/62797-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 57fbc93..0000000 --- a/old/62797-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/62797-h/images/king.jpg b/old/62797-h/images/king.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 32e0e46..0000000 --- a/old/62797-h/images/king.jpg +++ /dev/null |
