Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 February 1915 — Page 2

The Land of Broken Promises

A Stirring Story of the Mexican

SYNOPSIS. Bad Hooker u 4 Phi! Ds toroWT owlac to k revolution In M**100. to glvs up tholr minis* claim and rotvrn to tho United State*. In tho border town of Oodadoa Bud moots Hoary Krarer, a wealthy minor, who — — him a proposition to return to Mexico to aoqnlro tills to a very rich min* which Krnror had blown up when ho found ho had boon cheated, out of the title by one Aragon. The Mexican had spent a larva sum la an unsoocessful attempt to rslooate ths T «* and then had allowed the had vert for taxes. Hooker sad D* start for tho mins. They arrive at For tuna near whore the mine known so tho Ksjrle Tall la located, and ret lnformstlon about Aragon end a Mulom named Crua Mend as who lo friendly to CHAPTER VI Continued. “Quo buacar tho one-eyed on* •wsi»y Inquired; “what are you lookin* tar?" And whoa Phil oracularly answered, “Gold!" the old man made a motion So the boy to co on and sat down on B aaighboring rook. “Do yoa want to hay a prospect?" he asked, and Bad glanced up at him grimly. “We find oar owe prospects “ answered PUL “Bat I know of a very rich .proppect," protested Mend—; “very rieh!" He shrilled his votes to express ho# rich !t was. “Tear obeerred Phil; “then why <dflß*t yoa dig the gold oat? Bat. aa for aa. we find oar own mines. That “Bagurct" nodded Mendes. glancing at thetr outfit approvingly. “Bat lam a poor man—vary poor—l cannot denounce the mine. Bo 1 watt far some rich Americano to some and buy it. I have a friend —a very rich man—ln Gadsden, hat ha will not codas; so 1 will sell It to you." “DM you get that. Badr lasted Phil tn »"f*isb “The oM man hare thinks -we*re rick I marl new and ha wants to sell aa a a*?* “ Bad tewgh** silently at this, and Hr Maadmr. Ms hopes eomewhat blasted by thetr lerity. began to boast of bis ted. giving the history of the fflaglt Tall with much circumstantialtty and explaining that U waa a lost **Tlura,“ obeerrad Phil, going back to hla horse and ptcklag ap the bridle, “that's what they all say. TbayTa aB loot psiri mints, and you can sea them from tho door of the church. Ooase on. Bad. let's go!" “And eo yoa oould this!" cried Man4oa. running along after them aa they sods slowly up tho canyon, “from the old chureh that waa washed away hy the flood! This to the very mine ■where the padres dag oat all thetr gbtd! Are yoa colng ap this way? Ooom. then, and I will show you—the vary place, except that the Americano rained It with a blast!” Ha taggsd along after them, wheedling and protesting while they bantered him sheet his mine, until they flaaßy came to the piece—the ruins «f the Bogie TalL It lay spraddled out along the hillside. a aeries of gopherhales, dumps «nd abandoned workings, looking more like a badly managed stone quarry »hss a relic of padre days. .Kruger's —r* I** 1 ** of giant powder, exploded In one Mg Mast, had destroyed all traces of hla mine, besides starting an avalancba of hltoe shale n..t had pawed down and filled the P °Added to this, Aragon and his man ■had rooted around in the debris hi iiairrh of the rein, and the story of ,thetr Inefficient work was told by grief piles of loose rock stacked ap IbaaAde cared-in tranches and a aeries of tteM tunnels driven Into the neighTTajrr the rlrruimotsarss It would nmlsialr all ter a mining engineer (to toasts the toot lead, and Da Laneey looked It over thoughtfully as be beca to figure oa the work to be done. Undoubtedly there was a mine there—end the remains of an old Spanish smelter dews the'"creek showed that the ground had oooa bees vary rich—tent if Kruger had not told him to advaaoa he would have pessed up the Job tn a minute. “Well." he said, turning ooldly upon the tewafng > Hendea, who waa all ■eorvaa la his desire to pi—se, “where Is your prespeotor "AquL ssaor!* npM the Mexican. ipoteMfig to tho dtormpted rock slide. “*Bero it waa that the Americano Osaka had hla mine—rich with gold— Ho shrilled his voice esanhatteally, and Do Lfltooay shrilled his tn reply. Moakty at tha hfllstoe, aad then he .broke Into a tough. “AD right, my tfH—i.“ ho saM. ffivta* Bad a facedom wink; Thaw much .do you want (ter thta pseapeetr Mvulrod 1 * IM— Atm la a tsae at cam hopeful aad japMbfade. “it is very risk. Baser psciDsd 1 tt°out ter Wm^ou p* piece of lt!“ “Tes." r—ponded Do Lanoey. “I aa teoy’tha prospecto since you have no M— to show; bat J am glad for this. ISenor Mendes." he continued with &

By DANE COOLIDGE

Amthmr ms “TkAr—wfor -HMmm Wsters" "DU ftecM. ** Eta.

an honest man, or you would have stolen a piece of ore from the sacks. So show us now where the gold was found, the nearest Chat you can remember, and perhaps. If we think we can find It, we will pay you to denounce the claim for us.” At this the one good eye of Crus Mend— lighted up with a great hope and skipping lightly over the rock pll— with his sandaled feet, he ran to a certain spot, locating It by looking aero— the canyon and up and down the creek. “Here, aenores,” he pronounced, “Is where the mouth of the old tunnel came out. Standing Inside It I could a— that tree over there, and looking down the river 1 could Just see the smelter around the point So, then, the gold must be In there” He pointed. toward the hill. •Surely.” said De Laneey; "but where?” The old Mexican shrugged his shoulders dspreca tlngly. “I do not know, senor,” he answered; “but If you wish to dig I will denounce the claim for you.” “For how much?" Inquired De Lanoay guardedly. “ter one hundred dollars,” answered Mendes, and to his delight the Aaertoan seemed to be considering it He walked beck and forth across the elite picking up rocks and looking at them, dropping down Into the futile Ireprh— of Aragon, end frowning with studious thought His pardner, however, —t listlessly on a boulder and tested the action of his sixshooter. “Listen, my friend.” said De Laneey, aiming back and poising his finger Impressively. “If I should find the ledge the one hundred dollars would he nothfog to me, sabs? And If I should spend all my money for nothing ; It would be but bne hundred dollars more. But listen! I have known some false Mexicans who, wh— an American paid them to denounoe a mine, took advantage of his klndne— and refused to give It over. Or, If It turned out to

be rich; they pulled a long fa— and claimed that they ought to be paid more. Now if —” “Ah, no, senor!” clamored Mendes, holding up his hand to protest; “I am a poor man, but I am honest Only giva ms the hundred dollars —” “Not a dollar do you get!” cried De t annoT sternly; “not a dollar —until you turn over the concession to the mine. And ts you play us false” —he paused impressively—“cuidsdo, bombra —took out!" On— more Crus Mendes protested his honesty and his fidelity to any trust, but De Lan—y alien—d him impatiently. "Enough, hombral” he said. “Words are nothing to us. Do you see my trtend over there?** He pointed to Bud. who, huge and dominating •gainst the sky line, sat toying with hto pistol. “Bu— *l He is s cowboy, •abe? A Texan! You know the Teah? They do not like Mexicans. But my Mend there, he Ilk—>i.tWih —when they are honest. If not—no! Hey. Bud.” he called in “what would you do to this tallow If he beat oat of the mine?" Bud turned upon them with a slow. good-matured smile. “Ota. nothing maeh." he answered. pMte| up his gam; and the deep rumble of hie —toe struck tear into the oM man*e heart FhS Msgtiil and looked grimly at Mend— while he dattvesud hla altt-""-VVsry wed. my friend." he said. “We wfll stay pad look at this mine. If we think it la good we win take you to the o»teiwg agent and get a permit to sixty days we win dig, and if we find nothing wo will pay yoa fifty dollars, anyway. If we find the ledge we wfll give you a hundred dollars- All right?" - —- “SL senor, *l, s—«rl" cried MendOk. “one hundred doUarat** ' “When you give ua the patera!" warned PhlL “Bat remember—be

Sat Toying With His Pistol.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, INP.

careful I The Americans do not like men who talk. And come to the hotel at Fortune tomorrow —then we will let you know." “And you will buy the mine?" begged Mendes, backing off with his hat In hla hand. ■ “Perhaps,” answered De Laneey. “We will tell you tomorrow." “Buen’l” bowed Mendes; “and many thanks!” “It Is nothing,” replied De Laneey politely, and then with a crooked ■mile he gaxed after the old man as he went hurrying off down the canyon. “Well/* he observed, “I guess we've got Mr. Mend— started Just shout right—what? Now If we can keep him without the price of a drink nntil we get our papers we stand a chance to win.” “That’s right,” said Bud; “hut I wish he had two good ey—. I knowed a one-eyed Mex up In Arlsona and he waa sure a thieving son of a goat.” CHAPTER VII. There are doubtl—s many philanthropists in the Back Bay regions of Boston who would consider the whipsawing of Crus Mendes a very reprehensible act. And one hundred dollars Mex was certainly a very small reward for the service that to perform. But Bud and Phil were not traveling for any particular uplift society, and one hundred pesos was a lot of money to Crus Mendes. More than that. If they had offered him a thousand dollars for the —me service he would have got avaricious and demanded ten thousand. He came to the hotel very early the next morning and lingered around an hour or so, waiting for the American gentleman to arUe and tell him his fate. A hundred dollars would buy everything that ha could think of, including a quantity of mescal. His throat dried at the thought of it.

Then the gentlemen appeared and asked him many questions —whether he was married according to law, whether his wife would sign P®~ pars with him, and if he believed in a hereafter for those who played false with Americans. Having answered all th—e in the affirmative, he w— taken to the agente mineral, and, after signing his name——his one feat in penmanship—to several imposing documents, he was given the precious permit. Then there was another trip to the grounds with a surveyor, to make report that the claim was actually vacant, and Mend— went back to his norma! duties s packer. In return for this service a dummy lo—tor, and to keep him under their eye, the Americans engaged El Tuerto, the one-eyed, to pack out a tew tools and supplies for them; and then,'to keep him busy, they employed him further to build a stone house. All these activities were, of course, not tost on Don Cipriano Aragon y Tree Palacios, since, by a crafty arrangement of fences, he had made it impossible for anyone to reach the lower country without passing through the crooked street of Old Fortune, During the first and the second trip of the strange Americans he kept within his dignity, hoping perhaps that they would stop at his store, where they oould be engaged in conversation; hut upon their return from a third trip, after Crus Mendes had gone through with their supplies, he cast his proud Spanish reserve to the winds mid waylaid them on the street. “Buenas tardea, senor—,“ he saluted. as they rode past hie store, and then, seeing that they did not break their gait, he held up his hand for them to stop.

“ Excuse me. gentlemen," he said, ■peaking genially but with an affected 9panish lisp, “I have seen you ride past several times—are you working for the big company up at New Fortune?** “No. senor,” answered De Lan—y courteously, “we are working for oar- ■ “Good!” responded Aragon with ter therty approval; “it is better so. And are you looking at min—?" “Tes,” said De Lan—y non-commit-tally; **we are looking at mines.” “That Is good, too," observed Aragon; “and I wish you well, but sin—you are strangers to this country and perhaps do not know the people well as some, I desire to warn you against that one-eyed man. Crux Mendes. with whom I have seen you riding. He is a worthless fellow—a very pela'o Mexican, one who has nothing—and yet he Is always s—fang to Impose upon strangers by selling them old min— which have no value. “I have no desire to speak 111 of my neighbors, but sin— he has moved into the brush house up the river 1 have lost several fine little pigs; and his eye, as I know, was torn from his head as he was chasing another man’s cow., I have not suffered him on my ranch for years, for he is such a thief, and yet he has the effrontery to represent himself to strangers a poor hut honest man. 1 hope that he has not imposed upon you to any way?" “No; not at all, thank you*” responded De Lan—y, as Bud raised hla bridle reins to go. “We hired him to pack out our tools and suppll— and he has done tt very reasonably. But many thanks, sfcr. for your warning. Adtosl" He touched his hat and waved Ua hand to parting, and Bad grinned he settled down to a trot. “You can’t help palavering 'em, can you, Phil?" he said. “No matter what you think about ’em. you got to be polite, haven’t you? WML that's the way you get drawn in—next thorn yoa go tgr now the old man will pump you dry—yoa sea. No, sir, the only way to get along with the— Mexican* t* i ot to have a thing to do with ’em. (to savvy* ■ that's my motto!"" “Wail, inch— grad—’ to mine.” ah-

served Da Lancer. "II docent cost anything, and It buys a whole lot." “Sere,” agreed Bud; "hut we aint buying nothing from him—he’s the one particular hombre we want to ateer clear of, and keep him guessing as long as we can. That's my view of lti pardner.” “Oh. that’s all right," laughed De Lancey, “he wont get anything out of me—that la, nothing but a bunch of hot air. Say. he's a ahrewd-looking old guinea lent he? Did you notice that game eye? He kept It kind of drooped, almost shut,. until he came to the point—and then he opened It up real fierce. Reminds me of a big fighting owl waking up In the daytime, But you Just watch me handle him, and If I don't fool the old boy at every turn it’ll be because I run out of bull." "Well, you can hand him the bull if you want to,” grumbled Bud, "but the first time you give anything away I'm going to pick such a row with the old cuss that we'll have to make a new trail to get by. So leave 'lm alone, If you ever expect to see that girl!" A close association with Phil De Lancey had left Bud not unaware of his special weaknesses, and Phil was undoubtedly romantic. Oiven a barred and silent house, shut off from the street by whitened walls and a veranda screened with flowers, and the questing eyes of Mr. De Lancey would turned to those barred windows as certainly as the needle seeks-the pole. On every trip, coming and going, he had conned the Aragon house from the vine-covered corredor in front to the walled-in summer garden behind, hoping to surprise a view of the beautiful daughter of the house. And unless rumor and Don Juan were at fault, she was indeed worthy of his solicitude a gay and sprightly creature, browneyed like her mother and with the same glorious chestnut hair. Already those dark, mischievous eyes had been busy and, at the last big dance at Fortune, she had set many heads awhirl. Twice within two years her father, in a rage, had sent her away to school in order to break off some ill-considered love affair; and now a battle royal was being waged between Manuel del Rey, the dashing captain of the rurales stationed at Fortune, and Fells Luna, son of a rich haciendado down in the hot country, for the honor of her hand. What more romantic, then, than that a handsome American, stepping gracefully into the breach, should keep the haughty lovers from slaying each other by bearing off the prise himself? So reasoned Philip De Lancey, musing upon the.ease with which he could act the part; but for prudential purposes he said nothing of his vaunting ambitions, knowing full well that they would receive an active veto from Bud. For, while De Lancey did most of the touring, and a great deal of the thinking for the partnership. Hooker was not hating in positive opinions; and upon sufficient occasion he would express himself, though often with more force than delicacy. Therefore, upon this unexpected sally about the girt, Phil changed the subject abruptly ■mi said no more of Aragon or the hopes within his heart. It was not so easy, however, to avoid Aragon, for that gentleman had apparently taken the pains to inform. himself as to the place where they were at work, and he was waiting for them in the morning with a frown as black as a thunder cloud. "He's on?" muttered Phil, as they drew near enough to aee his face. “What shaß We do?" ~Do nothing," growled Bud through his teeth; “you Jest let me do the talk-

tog!" He maneuvered his horse adroitly ewA. with a skilful turn, cut in between his pardner and Aragon. “'s dias,” he greeted, gazing down in burly defiance at the militant Aragon; and at the same moment he gave De Lancey’* horse a furtive touch with his spur. “Buenos dias, senores!” returned Aragon, striding forward to intercept them; but as neither of the Americans looked back, he was left standing in the middle t>f the street “That’s the way to handle tm,” observed Hooker, as they trotted briskly down the lane. “Leave *hn to me!" “It'll only make him mad," objected De Lancey crossly. "What do you want to do that for?*’ “He's mad already," answered Bud. “I want to Quarrel With him, so he can’t ask us any questions. Get him so mad he wont talk —then it’ll be a fair fight and none of this snake-in-the-grass business." “Tea, but don’t put it on him," protested De Lancey. "Let him be friendly for a while, if he wants to." "Cant be friends,” said Bud laconically; "we jumped his claim.” “Maybe he doesn't want it." suggested Phil hopefully. "He’s dropped a lot of money on It." “You bet he wants it." returned Hooker, with conviction. Tn going to camp out there —the old boy is liable to jump us.” "Aw,' you’re crazy. Bud!" cried Phil; but Hooker oajy smiled: “Yob know what happen* to Kruger ~he answered. *m tall you what, wS got to keep our eye open around here." - They rode on'to the mine, which was only shout fidp miles from Poartnna, without discussing the matter further; for, while Pldl had generally been the leader, in this particular ease Kruger had put Bud in charge, and he seemed determined to hhve his way «o far as Aragon whs concerned. In the ordering of supplies mid the laying out of development work he detuned to Phil to everything, but for tactics he preferred his own judgment. “ it was by instinct rather than resson that ha chose to fight, and people

who fMlow their instincts are hard to change. So they put-in the day in winking careful measurements, according to the- memoranda that Kruger had given them; having satisfied themselves as to the approximate locality of the lost vein, they turned back again toward town with their heads full bf cunning schemes. Since it was the pleasure of the Senor Aragon to make , war on all who entered his preserves, they checkmated any attempt on his part to locate the lead by driving stakes to the north of their ledge; and. Still further to throw him off, they decided to mark time for a while by doing dead work on a cut Such an approach would be needed to reach the month of their tunnel. At the same time It would give steady employment to Mendez and keep him under their eye, and as soon as Aragon showed his hand they could

"By What Right Do You Take Possession of My Mine?"

make out their final papers In peace and Bend them to the City of Mexico. And not until those final papers were recorded and the transfer duly made would they so much as stick a pick into the hillside or show a lump of quartz. But for a Spanish gentleman, supposed to be all supple curves and sinuous advance, Don Clprlano turned out somewhat of a surprise, for when they rode back through bis narrow street again he met them squarely in the road and called them to a halt. “By what right, gentlemen—” ha demanded in a voice tremulous with rage “ —by what right do you take possession of my mine, upon which I have paid the taxes ail these years, and conspire with that rogue. Crus Mendez, to cheat me out of it? It is mine, I tell you, no matter what the agents mineral may say, and—" “Your mine, nothing!" broke la Hooker scornfully, speaking in the ungrammatical border-Mexican of tbs eowboys. ,r We meet one Mexican—he shows us the mine—that Is all. The ■expert of the mining agent says it ill vacant—we take it Stawano!" He waved the matter aside with masterful indifference, and Aragon burst-into a torrent of excited Span ish. "Very likely, very likely," comment, ed Bud dryly, .without listening to a word: "si, senor, yo pienso!” A wave of fury swept over the Spaniard’s face at this gibe and he turned suddenly to De Lancey. “Senor,” he said; “you seem to be a gentleman. Perhaps you will listen to me. This mine upon which you are working is mine. I have held It for years, seeking for the lost vein of the old padres. Then the rebels came sweeping through the land. They stole my horses, they drove off my cattle, they frightened jny workmen from the mine. I was compelled to flee —myself and my family—to keep from being held for ransom. Now you do me the great injustice to seize my mine!" "Ah, no, senor,” protested De Laacey. waving hie finger politely for silence, "you are mistaken. We have inquired about this mine and it has been vacant for some time. There is no vein—no gold. Anyone who wished could take it While we were prospecting we met this poor one-eyed mnn and he has taken out a permit to explore it. So we are going to dig —that is all.” “But, senor!” burst out Afagon—end he voiced his rabid protests again, while sudden faces appeared in the windows and wide-eyed peons stood gawking in a crowd. But De Lancey was equally firm, though he glimpsed for the first time the adorable face of La Gracia as she stared at him from behind the bars. “No, senor/* he said, "you are mistaken. The land was declared forfeit for non-payment of taxes by tha minister of Foments and thrown open for location. We have located it-—that is aIL” (TO BE CONTINUED.) '*•

Ruskin on Traveling.

To any perseh who has nil his senses shout him, a quiet walk, over not more than ten or twelve miles of rood a day. is the most amusing of all tea*ettag: and all traveling becomes duß Inexact proportion to its rapidity. Gw lag by railroad I dp not consider as traveling at all; it Is merely "beta* seat" to a place, and very little differeat from becoming a parceL— Buskin.

Dlpiomacy of Dishomesty?

a tool for Mb wit, o* ■ knave for tta hnnAty, and he will r* ceiTa you into Mm haiMr4Mlk||

BATTLES OF LIFE

Struggles for the Right That Def mand Highest Character and Courage. Louis Kossuth, the Hungarian patriot, speaking of the social revolution which he believed was impending, said; ‘lf the doctrines of Christianity could be applied to human society, I believe that the social problem could be got at.” There is no doubt that ho was right. The early disciples were accused of preaching a doctrine which was “turning the world upside down. Wherever Christianity has been fearlessly and consistently applied, it has resulted in a revolution. Preachers and laymen have sometimes made the mistake of supposing, that the direct and immediate outcome of Christianity must always be peace. But Jesus also said: “I came not to bring peace, but a sword."/ There’s a lot of fighting to he done — in the name of Christianity. Sometimes peace ia more quickly secured through a straight-out fight than through a quiet and unresisting acceptance of evil. And there is evil in 1 the world, some very eminent and cultured people to the contrary notwithstanding. \ It Christianit&r is the red-blooded thing that we say it is, then thosewho profess .to accept its philosophy and doctrine will stand up to meet 1 the situation by which it Is con--fronted. War is always to be deplored, but sometimes war is necessary. It is inconceivable that a real man willstand mildly by and see his childrenslaughtered, even though he 1b certain that he will be defeated in the struggle. Wars are bound to come, but there’s a “woe” for those "through whom these offenses come.” World's Real Battles. But we are not discussing, just now., wars between nations. There are other occasions that require red-: bloodedness and courage, and they; are worthier of human sacrifice than: are most of the wars between the races of men. The advocates of war defend their: position by saying that if all strife between nations were to cease it would result in a weak, cowardly people. They insist that the hardship® of war and the fighting develop strong men of courage and character. But such slaughter of our fellowmen alsodevelops the coarsest and most brutalinstincts. There are other battles to be fought which develop finer character 1 and more courage than can possibly be the result of the wanton slaughter of men, women and children. These battles have to do with the giving ot life, rather than death. The fighting of these battles de- 1 mands a cleancut manhood and worn-: anhood, a bravery which 1b rarely found on the battlefield of slaughter.' The soldier who goes to war ia cheered by excited crowds, and when he returns he receives an ovation that stirs the blood. And this is well. I would not detract for a single moment from the honor accorded the man who is ready to give his life for his country, whether his country ia right or wrong. But here is a man who is fighting for the lives of little children in industrial life, for sanitary conditions in factory and tenement, for clean government in our municipalities. What is his reward. Usually' sneers and sarcasm, often defamation of character, always bitterness and persecution. Where True Courage Is Required. It requires more real grit to stand up under such a fire, year after year, than it does to face the bullets of tha opposing army. There Isn't much cheering on such a job. Often it means social ostracism. Soon you will become known as a “crank.” Those who formerly were your friendß will: turn to you a cold shoulder. Thera 1 will be a temptation on your part to become bitter Jn turn. Here is the social worker’s peril. He may unintentionally turn away many who might otherwise be retained as friends. It Is in such a battle that one needs all the grace that comes through tha possession of the spirit of Jesus. When he was reviled, he reviled not again. He fought his enemies In a straightforward fashion, but never with bitterness. He sometimes used force, as when he drove the moneychangers from the temple, these men who were making of the temple “a den of thieves;’’ but Jesus, even when highly indignant, was never bitter. He won through courage. He attracted through personality. Hia slogan was life more abundant. He so thoroughly believed ty his great task that he was Teady to surrender his life to accomplish it All this was not easy. It is likely that the agony in the garden of Gethsemane when he •weal great drops of Mood was harder to bear than the spear-thrust and the driven nails. And every worker for the people hw his garden of Gethsemane—the hours that he spends alone, fighting for hla very life. These are the times that try the soul more severely than the final crucifixion.

God’s Gift of Work.

It is a fine thtog that Gog makes work his gift and not money and not f.w -nor this thing nor but just living work, and that every day to each of uea wptft. ferthal day and offers to us the joy conceiving it as a personal partnership with himself.—R. E. Bpeer.