Democratic Press, Volume 2, Number 91, Decatur, Adams County, 9 July 1896 — Page 3

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CHAPTER XV.—(Continued.) ■■ Tlf next evening he discovered that he I ‘1 hi‘l t" >‘ll nn engagement nt the residence HK o f the senior member of Rose mid Com|fl n»nv the «•"”• senior member being popH u’-ir in society. chiefly by reason of his Isl bmxUenie daughters. of which fact An- ■ Brtte was folly aware. For a week or two Mai curbed bis con--9 verMtion when with Annette. Hewaa.it ■ ia true, always the same jovial young gen M Hernan, bnt the girl missed the soft and ■ tender words of love that ho was wont to fl pair into her ear. At times, too. he apfl neared absolutely melancholy, and the H more Annette attempted to rouse him the fl more dejected tie appeared to become, unfl til at last she really did grow quite aux■H foils. fl This sort of thing could not go on forfl ever but it continued until the last night fl of tile two weeks allot ted to Max by fl Mrs. Dupont. when he went to pay his fl customary visit to Annette. fl He found her alone. fl It was precisely 8 o'clock when he fl knocked at the door of the Spencers’ fl apartments. At 10 o'clock he met Mrs. fl Dap-nit in the hallway. His face beamfl ed. for he was actually laboring under the fl delusion that he was the happiest man fl alive. « "You are u wise counsellor, he said, fl Joyfully. I CHAPTER XVI. ■ Max Brett had indeed secured his prize, fl but was compelled to at once relinquish fl the pleasure of personal poaaeaaion, for fl pressing business demanded his presence fl in the far West. ■ “It is a hard world, indeed,” said he to fl himself as he took his seat in the train I and prepar -d for a long ride. ■ For exactly forty-eight hours the ‘'lightfl ning express” pursued its way. without fl any incident of moment occurring to re- ■ Here the monotony of the journey to our I friend. On the third day the express was I running along at a very high rate of I speed in an evident attempt to recover ■ two lost hours. Through broad, expansive I fields, through pastures, through valleys I and along hillsides the train rushed. Max, ■ all the time engrossed in his magazine I and perfectly unconscious of the fact that I a man with red hair and bushy whiskers ■ sat opposite, eyeing him intently. All day | long thia man watched Max and noted his every morf-meut. but Brett gave not the I slightest heed to him. The afternoon I waued, and as the deepening shades Os I night began to slowly settle over everyI thing, the train slackened its speed and I ran on to a side track, so as to allow a ? freight train to pass it. I The freight came along at a good round pace. Max amused himself by reading the I initials and numbers on the ears, but soon I grew weary of his self-imposed task, as : the train was a long one. As the caboose I was nearing he again looked out. but this I time at the roof of the freight ears instead I of at their sides. On the car next to the last stood a man with a lantern in his I hand. The freight train increased its speed and almost immediately that parI tieular car was moving past Max. dust | then Brett obtained, in the twilight, a f fairly good view of the trainman s face. J He gave one lusty shout, but the noise of I the moving train drowned his voice, and I « minute later the man was far out of * ifrht - . . J “It was him!” said Max. in so loud a voice that it attracted the attention of his fellow passengers, especially the red-head-•ed man. At the next regular station the express waited several minutes, and Max seized tlie opportunity to investigate a little. The man he had seen standing on the roof of the freight car was Henry Richards, or, more properly, Harry Spencer. Brett •topped up to the ticket agent and inquired for the name of the conductor of the last freight train that had gone east. “John Silverthorn." replied the agent. “Hm!" muttered Max. "I suppose you're pretty sure of that? Sorry to trouble you. but who are the brakemen?” The man with the red hair had followed Max and now moved up close, so as to hear all. The agent gave Mnx u list of the names, but his friend’s was not among them. Max was about to offer some other suggestion, when the agent spoke again — “Let me see, now; there was another man with a common sort of name, but to •ate my neck I can’t think of it.” Here the engineer gave the warning ring of the bell and the conductor shouted “All aboard!” “Was it Richards?" naked Mnx. “Yes, that's the name—Henry Richards. Look, there goes your train!" Brett in his excitement hnd forgotten all about the train, mid so, apparently, had the tnau with the red hair. Without losing another second, Max rushed after Xhe train, followed by the other. Brett increased his speed and was sue'cessful to the extent that he was soon standing on the rear platform of the last car. Panting for breath, he ginneed back toward the station, and for the first time became aware of the other dilatory passenger. The man was still running, but soon gave up the chase—for his hat blew off. and with- it a red wig, followed by the red beard, which fell off ns if by magic. The man who was left, alter the disappearance of these slight “extras. Mnx easily recognized as his old enemy. De Watts. De Watts halted, turned around and was soon lost to view. It was impossible for Breit to leave the train now. Indeed, he could not break Ins journey without doing injustice to his employers. So he quietly sought his seat, umi during the balance of that day busied 'himself with laying I f° r the f ,,ture -

Among these contemplated projects was n visit to Rosedale in the near future. Max completed his business in San Francisco by the end of two weeks, and then found that he could spare a couple of days on his homeward journey for a detour to Rosedale. The sun was sinking behind the Rocky Mountains on a close, sultry day in August. A score or so of the "old timers" of Rosedale were seated upon or lounging about the "verandah” in front of Gillicuddy's, smoking highly seasoned clay pipes or cigars. The boys were chiefly discussing the dance that hnd been held in Gillicuddy's "Annex” on the previous evening. Rosedale bad changed considerably in two years. Where formerly three women held full sway, at least three score now divided the honors, and. »s one immediate consequence, dancing had come into fashion in the Andy Jackson Gulch. So eager were the miners for the fun that dances were held even during the heated months of July and August. "Did you see how Si Bell brightened up when Mary Boyle nsked him to dance with her?" said Ted Neale, as he slowly arose from a seat on one of the verandah barrels, and shook the ashes from his clothes. "No. I didn't. Why should I?” sharply replied Dud Sterling, who was somewhat envied as the prospective husband of Mary. “Well, there's no use in getting mad and acting jealous,” resorted Ted. "That poor fellow ain't a-going to last long—in fact, he's equni to a dead man right now. 1 ' was surprised to see biin out and about. I for he just hangs on nt that old cabin of j his, and most of the time don't trouble nobody." Just then Ted eyed a stranger coming up the street—undoubtedly from the station on the new railroad some three miles distant. "A stranger, boys!” he cried. “And he’s i wearing store clothes. He's liable to be ' a sheriff or a detective; then, again, he ■ may lie a gentleman—like ourselves!” ■ Two dozen pairs of eyes were turned i upon the new arrival, but he was, apparently, a stranger to them all. Suddenly. ■ however, Ted Neale rushed forward ami grasped the stranger’s arm, which he i shook as if it had been a pump handm. “Why. hello. Max, old boy! Have the i police chased you out our way again?" ', Then, still gripping Brett's hand, he turni ' ed to the assemblage and said: “GenuOll men. allow me to introduce my old friend, • Colonel Max Brett. A few years ago lie I was the social corner stone, so to speak, i of the old gulch. Now, boys, cigars round —on me.’ I After an interchange of civilities, as ■ practiced in the far West. Max slipped i away. This action was prompted by some i information, whispered in his ear by Mr. ■ Gillicuddy himself, who was slightly in i the confidence of Silas Bell. I It was now quite dark, but it was a ' beautiful night, and Brett felt that lie i could thoroughly enjoy a walk. A gentle i mountain breeze was fluttering down the valley, swaying the branches of the great trees, while the fragrance of Colorado's i wild flowers filled the air. Max took precisely the same road which De Watts had 1 followed on the night of the murder wnich I had, so far, gone unavenged. But he did not go all the way that De Watts had traversed, for, when he entered the woods, he turned off and directed his footsteps i toward an old cabin in a clearing, on the door of which he gently rapped. In answer to a feeble voice, which hade i him “come in,” Max opened the door and I entered. Upon a rickety table was n ■ tallow candle, burning dimly, and an old ’ revolver, and stretched upon a couch was a man, with his face turned toward the wall. Brett picked up the candle and approached the prostrate form, whereat ■ the man turned slowly and recognized his visitor. "Max Brett—nt last!” shouted the man • as he tried to raise himself into a sitting posture. “Yes, Si.” replied Max taking one of the bony hands in his grasp, "but don’t get • excited—you are sick?" "Yes, one of my bad days. But when ■ did you reach the gulch, Max?” "About two hours ago.” “Lucky thing you came to-day. I’m - pretty nigh a goner. Max. Something , tells me this is my last bout, and I shan’t be a bit surprised if I'm called on to pass ■ in my ehips afore to-morrow night.” Here the |sx»r fellow was attacked by a terrible fit of coughing, to which it wus painful to listen. “Pass that medicine,” he said, as he slowly recovered his breath. “Now, Max. draw up that stool and sit down on it and then listen while I tell you something.’* Max did as he was bidden, and Si Bell proceeded. . o “I built this here cabin after Sarah Browne was murdered. I was kinder gone on Sarah, you know, and I felt terrible blue over the way she was treated. First I thought I'd quit the gulch, but concluded I wouldn't. But I got away from the boys some, by coming up here ■ One day I was grubbing up the root of a tree I had cut down, and what should 1 find but a little tin box Iwried about two ■ feet under the ground. I took it into the ' cabin and broke it open, but only found a lot of green papers. I ain’t much of a I scholar, ns you well know, but I managed to figure out your mime on one of the - papers. So says I to myself, Max lias I done me a good turn more than once, so I'll take care of these for him.’ Lift me up a bit. Max. Right below my head, I under the mattress, you’ll find them dock- . erments.”

Mai produced the papers, nntlod the red tape that was around them. and, U> his utmost astoirishmeiit, found them to bo twenty-two one-thousand dollar bonds, registered In bls name, besides a somber of railroad stock certificates--the whole aggregating twenty-four thousand five hundred dollars! With them lie found n letter signed "Do Watts," which he commenced to read. But Silas interrupted; "Ara they worth anything. Mat?" "Yea, Si. us you shall find out. You will be well eared for, SI, If there's gratitude In my nature." "Thanks, my boy--you're very good—but—but—l guess it's too Intv for money —to—U>- help me," Even thru the poor fellow was oner more overtaken by nits of his coughing spells, which left him terribly exhausted, and when Max returned to Glllicuddy'a, about midnight, he carried word tv the boys that old Si Bell was no more. Except for the death of the faithful Silas, Max felt extremely gratified with the result of his visit to Rosedale. He was morally certain that De Watts hnd buried the bonds, nnd the letter which he had found wrapped up with them furnished him with valuable information nnd evidence to be used at some future occasion. He returned to Chicago, converted his bonds into cash, bought and furnished a pleasant home, and— Well, by n strange coincidence, on n certain October dny, when the New York papers announced a marriage that had taken place at Albany, the Chicago dailies contained a notice ns follows: "Married—At Grace Chapel, by the Rev. X. Y. Silver, Max Brett and Annette Spencer, both of thia city." CHAPTER XVII. On the first day that Edward Handford sat in his office after his happy vacation, a meosenger announced that <iae of the trainmen wished to see the president of the road. Handford, supposing the man had some grievance to lay before him, ordered him to be admitted. The man entered. clad in the neat uniform adopted by brakmnen on the road. Though his hands were blackened and hardened, they were small, while bis face bore traces of good breeding and gentle birth, though his eyes were sunken and his cheeks flushed. Handford recognized him in an instant as the hero who averted the catastrophe which so nearly overtook the mail train between Prairie City and Big Creek. “Ah, you recognize mo. Mr. Handford!" said the man. as Handford grasped him warmly by the hand. “Then I shall doub:less secure the favor I am come to ask?’ I have a story to tell you. lam sick, very sick, although up till now I have been able to get around pretty well. The doctors now tell me 1 must cease working, and the next thing, I suppose, I shall have to cease breathing. Years of fast living in the old days and the sudden change to the hard out-door life, have done their work. I once told you my name was Henry Richards. That is a name, however. which I assumed to avoid recognition. My actual name is Spencer—Harry Spencer, reported dead in San Francisco a year ago. That report was circulated by some of my enemies for their own pecuniary benefit, and I have never thought it worth while to contradiet it until now. Do not be alarmed. Mr. Handford. I am not a blackmailer, nor am I here for effect. Before I say any more, let me satisfy you that lam no impostor. Here is my watch chain. If you open it you will see Emily's picture and a strand of her hair. In this old pocketbook, too, is a copy of our marraige certificate —which I now destroy. Furthermore, in the package which 1 handed you some years ago. are all of Emily's letters to me, and a letter from me to her, which I wish her to readsome day. “Now. Mr. Handford, 1 wish to repeat I am not here to reopen old sores or to create fresh mischief. I respect you, and bear you no malice. Y’ou are, I know, a brave man and. I think, a good man. Y’ou won my wife honorably—both of you believing me to be dead. lam dead, socially, nnd wish to remain so. That brings me to the main object of this interview. One man, possibly two, will annoy you with threats to produce me. Their scheme will be, of course, an attempt to blackmail you. Fear nothing; Emily and you will never again see me. We both love Emily. Mr. Handford; then let us swear that no word of my existence shall ever cause her a moment’s uneasiness.” The two men shook hands, but the official's emotion prevented him from uttering a word. Spencer continued: "1 blame no one but myself for the past. I was a bad fellow the most of my life. I am merely down on the old pay-roll for the wages of sin. I still love Emily, but the best way in wfiiieh I can prove that love is by keeping out of her way, which I shall surely do. Twice 1 journeyed to England just to catch a glimpse of her nnd —well, I am glad she is married to a man who will care tor her. I hope she will be happy; I trust you will both be very happy. To-day I shall leave the service of your company and head for Mexico. And now for the favor I would nsk of you. You remember once promising to do me a favor? It is this. Tell her—prove to her —that I did not die the disgraceful death that was reported. Try to raise me a little in her estimation. It will not harm you, and the thought of your good word to come will help me out for the rest of my days. So, when 1 am dead, tell her, if you will, all that you know, and tell her, too, flint I never ceased to regret how I justly forfeited her love, esteem and companionship.” There wits a slight pause, which was broken by Spencer. “Edward Handford, for Emily’s sake you will promise all I have asked?" "I promise—l swear it,” said Handford. As their hands unclasped Handford s mind wandered off as if to gather up the threads of the strange web of circumstances that had culminated in this interview. When he released his thoughts from their service, Spencer was gone. When Spencer, left the oHtae of the railroad president, he descended to the street nnd was soon wending his way toward the depot, happier that he had lightened his mind of what had lately been n heavy burden. As he walked along the busy thoroughfare he suddenly felt a hand resting upon his shoulder, and before he had time to turn about, a familiar voice whispered in his ear "Ilarry Spencer!" He turned, startled nnd alarmed. nnd stood face to face with his old churn, Max Brett. For an instant the two men gazed nt each other in surprise—Spencer because he hnd been recognized. Max on account of the sickly appearance of his friend. Spencer was the first to speak. “Brett,” said lie, "under ordinary circumstances I should be glad to see you. As it is, I must confess I nin sorry that we have met to-day. Many of my actions and this lust speeeii of mine demand

explanations so let ua move off to some more remote place, where we need uot fear disturbance," "Very good," replied Mnx, "we will get into n cab which will soon take to my home, where more than one awaits yout coming." "Not to-day, not to-day," answerec Spencer, aa he endeavored to overeoine lib emetlon*. "Take me to a place where we elinll bo absolutely alone." Ho they turned into the Palmer House where Max secured a private parlor, and, when the door wna dosed, Brett said: "Harry, I bare aeoiired halt the world In n .••arch for jolt, «?":•» 1,1 M " 1 merely continued the good work which your sister, m>w my wife, commenced years ago. Now that you have materialIzed, I think you owe it to allot its. not to mention yourself, to stay here and afford us the opportunity to set you on youi feet.” "Yea. Brett, I know. I know that I ow» so very much that It Is folly to think of over paying my debts. Listen. You know how I left my wife, in disgrace, before we had been married twenty-four hours. I was already estranged from her friends and some of my own relatives. In less than a day I lost Emily's good will and esteem. Then, for a time, I lost all personal pride, making bad worse, until 1 saw that nil hope of a reconciliation was hopeless— at least during John Sntterthwaite's lifetime. So I came West nnd went to work ns a brakeman on ths Great Occidental, Twice 1 saved enough money from my pay to take me over to England, but my father-in-law took good care that 1 should not gain access to my wife. Shortly after my second trip I managed to do a small favor for Mr. Handford, of the Great Occidental—though in making a friend of that gentleman I made a bitter enemy of one of the enginecra. The railroad work proving a little too much for me, I located in Chicago and, as you know, secured a position with your firm. I left in the abrupt manner, that you doubtless remember, because I wished to evade recognition by tuy mother and sister. I returned to my old work on the railroad, at which I remained until to-day. I know everything —of my wife's marriage to Handford and of your <nvn pleasant relations with my sister. I am glad you are nil happy—though 1 will not attempt to deny that I envy, oh, more than envy, you all the glad contentment of your lives. But I think I have buried some of the selfishness of bygone days, for I can heartily wish for nil of you long and happy lives. And why should I belie that genuine wish of mine by bursting like n deadly bomb into these home groups? You know—Hnndford knows —the truth. Handford hns pledged his word to secrecy; you do likewise, brother Max, and, as you love my sister nnd pity me. let the knowledge of my existence remain buried in the darkest recesses of your mind. I passed your home last night, nnd, if what I beheld through the uncurtained window gave me a sharp twinge of pain, it also filled my heart with much joy. There you were seated in your parlor with your wife by your side, while mother, snug in her own armchair, was sewing. Would it not be utmost cruelty in me to throw the shadow of my disgrace upon such a home —to reopen old sores that are fast healing, or, by my rude presence, to upset and break asunder a union which is right and just, but which the knowledge of my existence would render illegal? No, Max, I thank heaven that cruelty mid wickeness are no longer a part and parcel of my life. No, I cannot, I will not stay. Good-by—-remember I died in San Francisco. Goodby, brother Max. good-by." With that, Spencer left the hotel anti was soon lost in the busy throng upon the street. Brett returned to his office, and when he reached home that evening hi found a letter from liii uncle, John Sat terthwaite. (To be Continued.) A GRACEFUL TRIBUTE Uy a Subject to Hia Sovereign, Qneen Victoria. The following graceful tribute Is paid by Sir Edwin Arnold to Queen Vie torla: The heart <»f gold, the will of iron, tin royal temper of steel, the pride, the patriotiam ami the deep piety of Victoria have been enshrined hi a small but vigorous frame, the mignonne aspect of which espes-ially strikes those who behold her for the first time in these, her "chair days.” It was reported how, when Prince Albert was dying, he roused himself from a period of wandering to turn with ineffable love to his siMMlse and sovereign, saying to her with a kiss, “Good little wife!” And when the Prince Consort was actually passing away, after those twenty-one years of wedded happiness, it was told how the Queen bent over him and whlspeml, "It Is your little wife.” at which last words the angel of death stayed bis hand, while once again the dear eyes opened nnd the dying lips smiled. But though this be so, no one who has been honored by near approach to her Majesty, or has ever tarried In her presence, will fail to testify, to the extreme majeaty of her bearing, mingled always with the most perfect grace and gentleness. Her voice has, moreover, always been pleasant ami musical to Instr nnd is so now. The hand which holds sceptre of the seas Is the softest that can be touched; the eyes, which have grown dim with labors of state for England, and with too frequent tears, are the kindest that can be wvn. Has Hanged Eighty-cight Men. George Maledon, of Fort Smith, Ark., is the champion hangman of the country. Foriwenty years he has been the official executioner of the United States Court there, and (luring that time has executed clghty-eight men. Nearly till the criminals hanged by Mnledos were desperadoes from the Indian Territory. Maledon Is a small num. who speaks with a strong German nc. cent. He has retired ns a hnngumu nnd will work a farm hi Kansas. Found Ont His Mistake. An Atchison young man, who lias Imagined for years that the girls were trying to capture him, decided to get married recently, and discovered that no one would have him.—Atchisol Globe. If there is any one tiling that prejudices us against a woman, it is to hear her swear.

REPUBLICAN CAMPAIGN SONG—Hanna, Put the Kettle Ou, We’ll All Take Tea. ' ’ ' > ■' A

REPUBLICANISM TOBE REBUKED The Democracy Is the party of the people. Its puniose has ever been to advance their Interests. It may have had its errors of procrastination ami its sins of omission. But the sins of coni- : mission against the people of thia coun- ; try have ever rested with the Republi-1 can party and with Its ancestors of the Know-Nothing. Whig and Federalist parties. During the ninety-six years in the government of this country, since party lines have prevailed. Democracy has been in control sixty years. They have lieeu years of the fullest prosperity. Business depression has come in rare* intervals and then from natural and not from the government causes. The depression that now prevails, however, flows from the efforts of the MrKluleyites. partly successful, for making the rich richerand the poor poorer through the successful demands for a tariff that could benefit corporations and the manufacturers only. It is now sought to place at the head of this nation the tool of the coal bar-1 ons. and of the iron kings, who dictated i the tariff of for their own personal advantage ami for the subjugation of labor. In this braxen endeavor it is in the logic of Republican consistency and of supreme selfishness that for a captain in tile McKinley campaign such an unscrupulous h-ader should l>e select-, ed as shall be under the complete dom- , Ination of the iron interests—Mark Hanna, of Cleveland. Are the people ready for such a surrender? We can understand the feeling of unrest that prevails from causes having their origin with the very leaders that are now rushing McKinley to the front. But the people will revolt againsttherecurrcnceof the McKinley., the Carnegie, the Cameron, the Quay, I the Foraker, the Elkins, and the Platt dictation that Is Intrenched behind the ' movement to put another Ohio timeserver in the Presidential chair. Ho Han Spoken. Sootltcd and sustained by the presence aud advice of his backer and trainer the oracle of Canton has nt last op'd his ponderous Jaws and emitted a delphic utterance on the currency ques- • tion. 3* ' vas when a delegation uuih j Evansville. *».■?.. with brass bands, tin horns and other outward evidences of enthusiasm had been admitted to the shrine. When silence had been secured .v.r. Hanna turned on the calcium light, j the apostle struck his right hand Into the bosom of his frock coat, rose upon his toes, slowly settled back upon his heels, cleared his throat anil began to open his mouth. The delegation stood entranced. Mr. Hanna turned on another limelight. There was a raucous, grilling sound, a buzzing as of concealed machinery and then these never-to-be-forgotten words: "My countrymen, there Is another thing the people are determined upon, nnd that is that a full’day's work must be paid in a full dollar.” That was all. but ft was enough. The oracular lips had been unsealed: the dumb had spoken; the mandarin had decreed tliat twelve should constitute a uozen and that the multiplication table was not inconsistent with republican institutions. It was a day of sweetness and light in Canton. Grovellna nt Mnrk Hnnna's Feet. No more remarkable spectacle has ever been witnessed In this country than is presented in the prostration of the Republican party—an organization which was once and still claims to be the champion of liberty—at the feet of a self-constituted autocrat, who has never been, in any sense, conspicuous In the counsels of the party; who was unknown a year ago outside of the nar- 1 row commercial domain In which he has achieved the fortune which renders him puissant, and who has set out on a purely "business" basis to acquire a President of the United States. — Kansas City Star. No Insplriition to Fnthnalnm. Enthusiasm for McKinley Is lacking everywhere outside Ohio. The leaders, from Platt to Lodge, fall Into line, as a matter of course. Bn; the average Republican doesn't relish the success gained by the silent man of Ohio. He realizes that while old "bosses” may have been sent to the rear, a new boss has forged to the front, nnd that Republican success next November means Hanna rule, with all that It 'inplles. No wonder that thinking Republicans are not inspired by their Presidential ticket.—Boston Globe. t tntesme-’ <’o«>s'»ieu'>ti«ily »b«cnt. The most notable feature of the Republican National Conventl'Ui was the , conspicuous absence of statesmen of J great abilities, attainments ami achievements. The man of greatest power In the convention and who rep-

resented the nominee was a successful I money maker. The McKinley campaign was run by money makers on a business basis for a business purpose. Its managers wore as ignorant !of statesmanship as schoolboys, and knew no ]H*litles alsivo :h“ manipulation of primaries and conventions. St. Louis Republic. Labor la OffenileiL There Is such a thing as a lalsir vote In this country, and It cute nu important figure in a Presidential election. It Is not a vote to be offended openly and deliberately, at any rate. Among the persons who took a prominent part in the proceedings at St. Louis was Henry C. Payne of Wisconsin. He was reelected National Committeeman from his State, in accordance with th« wishes of Mark Hanna, so it was stated in the newspaper dispatches at the time. Now it is reported that Mr. Hanna is very likely to give added evidence of his approval of Mr. Payne by appointing him a member of the NaI tioual Executive Committee. Mr. Payne is probaldy as objectionable to organized labor as any man in the' country. As manager of the Milwaukee Street Railway Company he fought stubbornly to crush out organization among ids employes, refusing under all I circumstances to recognize the right of those who worked for his company to belong to a union. Conferring honor" aud position on this man. who is a bitter enemy of unionism, Mr. Hanna will find to be a poor way of making votes' for bis candidate among workingmen. Chickens Coming Home to Woowt It is the irony of fate. The Republicans made Utah a State for the express purpose of having it give them two Senators, one Representative and three electoral votes. Yet In the very first Republican convention in which Utah ever participated as a State one of her Senators, her single Representative and half her delegation have abandoned the party, repudiated Its platform and Joined in a bolt.- New York World, The Some Idea as in There* are other interests at stake be- ■ side those of Mr. McKinley's millionaire friends who have grown insolently rich over McKinley's outrageous protection ideas. Once Mr. McKinley's extravagant ideas were sat down upon I by the American people. The issue will be tried again and if we mistake not the temper, the same emphatic treatment will be given him this fall.—Burlington Gazette. How Tetter and McKinley DifferThere is a significant contrast between the action of Hena:or Toiler, who has severed his relation with his party because he could not agree with its position on the silver question, and with that of Mr. McKinley, who will accept the nomination for the Presidency on a platform which ho sought defeat.—Philadelphia Record. GoM Export" and Mc-Kinleyinm. "European gold was flowing toward us." snld Temporary Chairman Fairbanks In describing the “high-water mark" of MeKinleyism in 181)2. We give him the credit of not knowing that the net exjiorts of gold from this country to Europe In that year reached the enormous total of s.'B,s7o,s3(l.—Springfield Republican. Owned by the I'lntecrnts. If ever a party was dominated, controlled. owned bodily by money rings and plutocratic combinations, that at St. Louis takes the cake, so to speak. Any hard working, toiling son of the nation who follows its flag deserves no ’sympathy whatever.—Arkansas Gazette. Wiwra nnd Vntea, If every man votes for McKinley whose wages were raised during the existence of the McKinley act, ami every one votes against him whose wages were lowered, he will not carry a single one of the ru.tnufaeiurlng States.—Kansas City Times. Chr*' ring :o l>< nioernta There Is nothing in the nomination of McKinley that should not cheer the hearts of Democrats. It was the McKinley idea and the McKinley platform that defeated the Republican party la 1802. It will be McKln ey tlmt will lead It to defeat in 180(1.—Peoria Herald. W 11 Not Grow t'no** (lie People. It Is our best Judgment that McKinley will not grow upon the people In rhe fierce light of the cant, iign. Ills election means another siege of tariff tinkering, ami the people do not wint any more legislation on this subject for some time. —Nashville American. Nover turn the misfortune* :>f others Into ridicule.