Jasper County Democrat, Volume 9, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 November 1906 — The Manager Of the B. $ A. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Manager Of the B. $ A.

By VAUGHAN KESTER

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. I—Dan Oakley, Manager of the Buckhorn and Antioch railroad (known aa the ‘•Huckleberry”), receives two lettera, one telling him that hie convict father, Roger Oakley, haa been pardoned, and the other that General Cornish, the owuer of the B. A A„ la about to visit Antioch. ll—Oakley visits Dr. Emory and meets Constance Emory. Other visitors are Griff Ryder, owner of the Antioch Herald, and Turner Joice, the local artist. Ill —Oakley tells General Cornish that in order to keep the car shops running a cut in wages is necessary. IV -Oakley tells Holt, his assistant treasurer, of the proposed cuts. V—Roger Oakley appears in Antioch. He is a worthy old man. who killed an enemy in self defence and was unjustly convicted of murder. VI Roger Oakley goes to work in the car shops. Griff Ryder tries to induce Dan to keep a friend at work. Oakley refuses. Vll—Oakley and Ryder are rivals for Constance Emory's favor. Vlll—Through Kenyon, candidate for congress, whose cousin is warden of the orison in which Roger Oakley was confined, Ryder learns the old man’s history. IX—Oakley cuts wages in the car shops. He Is attacked by the Herald. X—Oakley's office boy learns from the son of one of tlie men that the men are planning a strike and that Ryder is spreading the tale that Roger Oakley is a criminal. XI-The men in the car shops refuse to work with Roger Oaklev. Branyon, their leader, is discharged. Oakley tells Dr. Emory that he will stay in Antioch and face the situation. Xlll—Oakley has a final interview with Constance.

CHAPTER XV. THE first weeks of the strike slipped by without excitement. Harvest time came and went. A rainless August browned the earth and seared the woods with its heat, but nothing happened to vary the dull monotony. The shops, a sepulcher of sound, stood silent and empty. General Cornish, in the role of the avenger, did not appear on the scene, to Oakley’s discomfiture and to the joy of the men. A sullen sadness rested on the town. The women began to develop shrewish tempers and a trying convereational lialiit, while their husbands squandered their rapidly dwindling means in the saloons. There was large talk and a variety of threats, but no lawlessness.

At Intervals a rumor was given currency that Oakley was on the verge of starting up with imported labor, and the men, dividing the watches, met each train, but only familiar types, such as the casual commercial traveler with his grips, the farmer from up or down the line, with bis Inevitable paper parcels, and the stray wayfarer were seen to step from the Huckleberry’s battered coaches. Finally it dawned upon the men that Dau was bent on starving them Into submission. Hyder had displayed what for him was a most unusual activity. Almost every day lie held conferences with the leaders of the strike, and his personal influence went far toward keeping the men in line. Indeed, his part in the whole affair was much more important than was generally recognized. The political campaign had started, and Kenyon was booked to speak in Antioch. It was understood In advance that he would declare for the strikers, and his coming caused a welcome flutter of excitement. The statesman arrived on No. 7, and the reception committee inet hitxj at the station in two carriages. It in eluded Cap Roberts, the Hon. Jeb Barrows, Ryder, Joe Stokes and Bentick. The two last were an inspiration of the editor’s and proved a popular success. The brass band hired for the occasion discoursed patriotic airs, as Kenyon in a long linen duster and a limp, wilttsl collar presented himself at the door of the smoker. The great man was all blandness an# suavity—an oily suavity that oozed ami trickled from every pore. Tile crowd on the platform gave a faint, unenthusiast'e cheer as it caught sight of him. it had been more interested in staring at Bentiek and Stokes. They looked so excessively uncomfortable.

Mr. Kenyon climbed down the steps mid shook hands with Mr. Ryder. Then, bowing and smiling to the rigid mid left, he crossed the platform, leaning on tile editor's arm. At the carriages there were more greetings. Stokes mid Bentiek were formally presented, and the congressman mounted to a place beside them, whereat the crowd cheered again, and Stokes and Bentiek looked, if possible, more miserable than before. They bad a sneaking idea that a show was being made of them. Ryder took his place in the second carriage, witli Cap Roberts and the Hon. Jeb Barrows, and the procession moved off uptown to the hotel, preceded by the timid playing a lively twostep out of turn* and followed by a troop of bare legged urchins. After supper the statesman was serenaded by the band, and a little later the members of the Young Men’s Ken yon cluli, attired In cotton tlaunel uni forms, marched across from the Herald office to escort him to the rink, where he was to speak. He appeared radiant in a Prince Albert and a shiny tile and a boutonniere, this time leaning on the arm of Mr. Stokes, to the huge disgust of that worthy mechanic, who did not know that a statesman had to lean on somebody's arm. It is hoary tradition, and yet it had a certain significance, too, if it were meant to indicate that Kenyon couldn't kedp straight unless he was propped. A wave of titful enthusiasm swept the assembled crowd, and Mr. Stokes’ youngest son, Samuel, aged six, burst into tears, no one knew why, mid was led out of the press by an elder brother, who alternately slapped him and wiped his nose on his cap.

Hr. Kenyon, "smiling Bls unwearied, mirthless smile, seated himself In his carriage. Mr. Ryder, slightly bored and wholly cynical, followed his example. Mr. Stokes and Mr. Bentlck, perspiring and abject and looking for all the world like-two criminals, dropped dejectedly into the places assigned them. Only Cap Roberts and the Hon. Jeb Barrows seemed entirely at ease. They were campaign fixtures. The band emitted a harmony destroying crash, while Mr. Jimmy Smith, the drum major, performed sundry bewildering passes with his gilt staff. The Young Men’s Kenyon club fell over Its own feet Into lines and the procession started for the rink. It was a truly inspiring moment Since an early hour of the evening the people had been gathering at the rink. It was also the opera house, where during the winter months an occasional repertory company appeared in “East Lynne,” “The New Magdalen” or Tom Robertson’s “Caste.”

The place was two-thirds full at a quarter to 8, when a fleet courier arrived with the gratifying news that the procession was just leaving the square and that Kenyon was riding with his hat off and in familiar discourse with Stokes and Bentlck. Presently out of the distance drifted the first strains of the band. A little later Cap Roberts and the Hon. Jeb Barrows appeared on the makeshift stage from the wings. There was an applausive murmur, for the Hon. Jeb was a popular character. It was said of him that he always carried a map of the United States in tobacco Juice on Ids shirt front. He was bottle nosed and red faced. No man could truthfully say he had ever seen him drunk, nor had any one ever seen him sober. He shunned extremes. Next the band tiled into the balcony and was laboriously sweating its way through the national anthem when Kenyon and Ryder appeared, followed by the wretched Stokes and Bentlck. A burst of applause shook the house. When It subsided the editor stepped to the front of the stage. With words that halted, for the experience was a new one, he Introduced the guest of the evening.

It was generally agreed afterward that it had been a great privilege to bear Kenyon. No one knew exactly what it was all about, but that was a minor consideration. The congressman was well on toward the end of his speech and had reached the local situation, which he was handling in what the Herald subsequently described as “a masterly fashion, cool, logical aud convincing,” when Oakley wandered in and, unobserved, took a seat near the door. He glanced about him glumly. There had been a time when these people had been, in their way, his friends. Now those nearest him even avoided looking in his direction. At last he became conscious that some one far down near the stage and at the other side of the building was nodding and smiling at him. It was Dr. Emory. Mrs. Emory and Constance were with him. Dan caught the Hue outline of the latter’s profile. She was smiling an amused smile. It was her first political meeting, and she was finding it quite as funny as Ryder bad said it would be.

Dan listened idly, hearing only a word now and then. At length a sentence roused him. The speaker was advising the men to stand for their rights. He rose hastily and turned to leave. He had heard enough, but some one cried out. “Here’s Oakley!” and instantly every one In the place was staring at him. Kenyon took a step nearer the footlights. Either he misunderstood or else he wished to provoke an argument, for he said, with slippery civility: "I shall l>e pleased to listen to Mr. Oakley's side of the question. This is a free country, and I don’t deny him or any man the right to express liis views. The fact that I am unalterably opposed to the power he represents is no bar to the expression here of his opinion.’’ Oakley's face was crimson. He paused irresolutely. He saw the jeer on Ryder’s lips, and the desire possessed him to tell these people what fools they were to listen to the cheap, lungy patriotism of the demagogue on the stage. He rested a hand on the back of the chair in front of him mid leaned forward witli an arm extended at the speaker, but his eyes were fixed on Miss Emory’s face. She was smiling at him encouragingly, he thought, bidding him to speak. “This is doubtless your opportunity,” he said, “but I would like to ask what earthly Interest you have In Antioch beyond the votes it may give you?” Kenyon smiled blandly and turned for one fleeting instant to wink at Ryder. “And my reply is this: What about the twenty million dollar sped-

men of American manhood who is dodging a round London on the money lie's made here in this state, yes, and in this town? He’s gone to England to break his way into London society, and. Incidentally, to marry ids daughter to a title.” A roar of laughter greeted this sally. '’That may lie,” retorted Oakley hotly, "but Antioch has been getting its share of his money too. Don't forget that. There’s not a storekeeper in this audience whose bank account will uot

show in hard American dollars wbat General Cornish does for Antioch when Anjlocb ft willing to let him do for it But granted that what you have said is true, who can best afford to meet the present situation. General Cornish or these men? On whom does the hardship fall heavier, on them or on him?” ‘•That was not the spirit which prevailed at Bunker Hill and Lexington! No, thank God; our fathers did not stop to count the cost, and we have our battles today just as vital to the cause of humanity, and I for one would rather see the strong arm of labor wither in Its socket than submit to wrong or Injustice!” Oakley choked down his disgust and moved toward the door. There were applause and one or two cat calls. Not heeding them, he made his way from the building. He bad reached the street when a detaining band was placed upon his arm. He turned savagely, but It proved to be only Turner Joyce, who stepped to his side, with a cheerful “Good evening, Mr. Oakley. They seem to be having a very gay time In there, don’t they?” “Have you been in?” demanded Oakley grimly. “I? Oh, no! I have just been taking a picture home?” “Well,” said Oakley, “I have just been making a fool of myself. I hope that is something you are never guilty of, Mr. Joyce.” Joyce laughed and tucked his hand through his companion’s arm.

“Doesn’t every one do that occasionally?" he asked. Dan shook off his bitterness. Recently he had been seeing a great deal of the little artist and his wife, who were about the only friends he or his father had left In Antioch. They walked on In silence. Joyce was too tactful to ask any questions concerning bls friend’s affairs, so he ventured an Impersonal criticism on Kenyon, with the modest diffidence of a man who knows he is going counter to public sentiment. “Neither Ruth nor I had any curiosity to hear him speak tonight. I heard him when he was here last. It may be my bringing up, but I do like things that are not altogether rotten, and I’m afraid I count him as sort of decayed.” Then he added, “I suppose everybody was at the rink tonight?” “The place was packed.” “It promises to be a lively campaign, I believe, but I take very little interest in politics. My own concerns occupy most of my time. Won’t you come in, Mr. Oakley?” for they had reached his gate. On the little side porch which opened off the kitchen they found Ruth. She rose with a pleased air of animation when she saw who was with her husband. Oakley had lived up to his reputation as a patron of the arts. He had not forgotten, in spite of his anxieties, a promise made Joyce months before, and at that very moment safely bestowed in Mrs. Joyce’s possession were two formidable looking strips of heavy pink, paper, which guaranteed the passage of the holder to New York and return. “I hope this confounded strike is not going to interfere with you, Mr. Joyce,” said Oakley as he seated himself. He had discovered that they liked to talk about their own plans and hopes, and the trip east was the chief of these. Already he had considered it with them from every conceivable point of view. "It is aggravating, for, of course, if people haven’t money they can’t very well afford to have pictures painted. But Ruth is managing splendidly. I really don’t think it will make any special difference.” “I am determined Turner shall not miss this opportunity. I think If it

wasn’t for me, Mr. Oakley, he'd give up most everything he wants to do or has set his heart on.” "He’s lucky to have you, then. Most men need looking after.” “I’m sure I do,” observed the little artist, with commendable meekness. He was keenly alive to his own shortcomings. “I’d never get any sort of prices for my work if she didn’t take n hand in the bargaining.” “Some one has to be mercenary.’’ said Ruth apologetically. “It’s all very well to go around witli your head in the clouds, but It doesn’t pay.” “No, It doesn’t pay,” agreed Dan. There was a long pause, which a cricket improved to make itself heard above the sweep of the night wind through the treetops. Then Ruth said: “I saw Miss Emory today. She asked about von.”

Mrs. Joyce and her husband had taken a passionate Interest In Oakley’s love affair and divined the utter wreck of his hopes. * “Did she? I saw her at the rink, too, but of course not to speak with.” Turner Joyce! trod gently but encouragingly an his wife’s foot. He felt that Oakley would be none the worse for a little cheer, and he had unbounded faith In his wife’s delicacy and tact. She was just the person for such a message. ' , “She seemed—that is, I gathered from what she said, and it wasn’t so much what she said as what she didn’t say”— Dan laughed outright, and Joyce joined in with a panic stricken chuckle. Ruth was making as bad a botch of the business as he could have made. “I am not at all sensitive,” said Dan, with sudden candor. “I have admired her immensely; I do still, for the matter of that.” “Then why don’t you go there?” “I can’t, Mrs. Joyce. You know why.” ' “But I think she looks at It differently now.” Oakley shook his head. “No, she doesn’t There’s one way she can look at it” “Women are always changing their minds.” persisted Ruth. It occurred to her that Constance had been at her worst in her relation with Oakley. If she cared a scrap for him, why hadn't she stood by him when he needed it most? The little artist blinked tenderly at his wife. He was lost in admiration at her courage. He would not have dared to give their friend this comfort The conversation languished. They heard the strains of the band when the meeting at the rink broke up and the voices of the people on the street, and then there was silence again. [TO BE CONTINUED]

“I would like to ask what earthly interest you have in Antioch ?”