Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 244, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 October 1914 — THE PASSING OF JIM [ARTICLE]

THE PASSING OF JIM

By B. T. KAHMANN.

'Copyright, by Daily Story Pub. Co.) We all liked Jim; not & man in the whole camp who was not his friend. The. first time Jim made his appear* ance was on a chill September morning. I was walking to the mine when I heal'd a cheery whistle, and, turning, beheld a tall, stalwart young fellow, dark eyes, a smiling mouth, and at once I took a fancy to him. I smiled involuntarily and held forth my hand. He grasped it eagerly and, shaking it, turned his head as if to hide his emotion. “You are the first man to treat me like this, and you ain’t never going to regret it” “I raised my eyes, looked at the firm, square jaw, and into the honest face, and answered: “I know I shall not” From that day Jim remained. He was always Jim; no one knew him by any other name, and he offered no explanations. No one asked who he was, where he came from, what he had done, or how long he intended to stay. They all met him quietly and gladly accepted his presence, and Boon every man, woman and child was his own particular friend. Jim was no model, not by any means. He loved tb stand before the Golden Gate bar, most of his earnings going to that source, but he never indulged too freely, and he whs never known to be seen under the influence of liquor. He was fond of playing, cards being one of his favorite amusements. He w’as much delighted when he won, but he always played fairly and squarely, and was never accused of cheating. , The little children in particular loved Jim. He was wont to sit with a dozen or more perched about him, one on each knee, some leaning confidently against him; all eagerly listening to some tale which he could so skillfully invent. Many a trinket found its way into their homes, and It was always Jim’s deed. , One bright and sunny morning a group of men were leaning and lounging in the Golden Gate bar. Jim and I were at a table playing cards. “The devil! I’ve won again!” cried Jim, slapping his knee in delight. "I bet that is the last game you ever win,’’ I retorted jokingly. Scarcely had I spoken when the door was flung open and a man, panting and breathless, threw himself into the room. “The dam in the mine has given way.” "Great God!” The cards slipped from my hands as I realized the terrible meaning of his words. “The miners will be drowned like rats in a trap; there ain’t no way to get out,” the man continued. I saw Jim turn pale aB he put down the cards. He seemed to study for a moment, then rose, saying: “Yes, there is a way, only one way; they can’t. get out of the east shaft, because that is blocked by the breaking of the dam, but the wall, by breaking be released, the water will rush through the opening, and a few hours’ work will set them free.” “Do you know what it means to break that wall? Death for the one who attempts it. The water will surge out w'ith such a tremendous force, taking everything in its way, and the man -+-he would scarcely have time to ‘ realize his fate.”

He did not flinch; he acted as if there were no need for excitement, as if it were an every-day affair. “You spoke truly when you said that waß my last game of cards. It Is, pal, for Jim will never hold another ace." “What do you mean?" “I mean that that wall must be broken, and I am the man to break It, and I don’t think it is likely that I shall ever play after that.” “Jim, you are crazy! ” The exclamation came in chorus from the crowd around him. “Oh, no I ain't; i(Ps got to be done.” We sprang forward, grasping him by the arms, but he shook himself free. “Let me go, boys, of what good am I anyway? 1 never did anything in my life. Why not let me do this? You can't go; you have all got wives and children. Think of them and of the men in the mine, struggling for life and freedom, with that awful death in store for them. If no one goes and helpß, hundreds, your best friends and all, will drown in fjjp, mine, whctn they can be so easily Baved. What is the cost of one life when it will save hundreds? Who will mourn and weep when they bring me back bo cold and still? There won't be any tears, because there Is no one who cares, and if those hundreds perish, how great will be the ruin and disaster? You must let me go. Look! see those mothers, Listen to the songs upon their Ups and see their smiling faces. Will they ever smile or sing if their husbands do not return tonight? See the little children; who will care for them if the father comes no more?- What will those women so utterly helpless and dependent, what will they do If soipe one is npt willing to take the risk? And then lpok at me. Will they be sad when 1 am gone? No. Will they be deprived of any delight and joy when Jim is hidden? No. Oh! you may be sorry, but that will vanish and soon the sun will shine lost as brightly, the birds sing Just as *.; ; -■ ‘

sweetly for you as if there had been no Jim.” > „ A lamp which I could not swallow came into my throat -and the others hid their faces. He looked so young and boyish, so strong and full of life, that to think of him still in death chilled our very hearts and minds. “1 ain’t so good that 1 like to think of dying, but it has got to be, Ohe or a hundred. One would be ihuch better. You have all been mighty gbod to me, and I want to thank you. Think kindly of me, boys, and —and don’t forget too soon, as I like to be remembered.” 5 t He slowly shook hands with üb, one by one. The lips of the boys were drawn and it seemed to me that I was committing a. crime. Just as he held my hand a sunny-faced girl ran up to Jim. “We wants a tory,” she lisped. He stooped and tossed her into the air. “Jim won’t tell stories any more. Jim’s going away." “No, Jim shan’t go,” she sobbed, clasping him about the neck as if to prevent. “Where is Jim going?” “Way off, where they don’t worry and where they ain’t down on a man because he ain’t rich and great; where everything is so nice and sweet, and where even Jim can learn to be good.” The child stared at him in amazement. "That must be heaven, Jim!” “It is heaven, I hope, and some day you will meet me over there.” He kissed her softly, placing her upon the ground, while she ran to tell the rest. “Follow me, but don’t try to help.” He hastened to the door, sprang upon the back of his mare and turned. His face was lighted with a smile, but it was trakfixed with a new radiance. The face of the rough miner was made beautiful by the greatness and mightiness of his deed and sacrifice. We followed, and as we waited we could hear the thud, thud, thjid of his hammer and the grating of his and even the falling of stone. He began to whistle the same old tune he loved so well —an old church hymn. We stood with bowed heads and beating hearts ~ waiting for the end. Then came a horrible, intense, deathlike stillness, which was quickly answered b f'k terrific explosion and report, as if a hundred cannons had gone off. The sound was that of a rock-crusher, as the stone fell, and the pieces of coal and dirt went seething past. Then again the silence, the ebbing and swirling of black, dark waters as they poured forth, rushing out, pell mell. We stood, hoping against hope, yet knowing all the time how utterly useless it was. Presently we caught sight of a hand and his body floated to us. The dark face was partly crushed and discolored with blood, but there was a smile upon his lipß. He had saved the miners and Jim had passed to his reward In the Great Beyond. '