Jasper County Democrat, Volume 13, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 April 1910 — The Fourth Estate [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Fourth Estate

Novelized by FREDERICK R. TOOMBS

From the Great Play of the Same Name by Joseph Medill Patterson and Harriet Ford. & & COPYRIGHT. 1909. BY JOSEPH MEDILL PATTERSON AND HARRIET FORD.

: SYNOPSIS. Chapter I—Judith Bartelmy, society ■woman, goes to the office of the Daily Advance to protest against a story which had severely criticised her father, a judge , of the United States court. She discovers that the author of the article was Wheeler Brand, a ■ brilliant young writer whom she had promised to marry. He refuses to cease attacking her father. ll—Judith discards her engagement ring. Dupuy, a lawyer, representing big advertisers, calls and demands Brand’s discharge, as his Clients are friends of Judge Bartelmy. Ill —■ Brand is discharged by the managing editor, for the paper, long owned by an insurance company, had been friendly to corporations. Michael, Nolan, who buys the paper, comes in the office and finds Dupuy to be an old enemy of his. CHAPTER IV. declaration of the new | I owner ■of the Advance that he was no less a personage yarglj than the blacklist victim of years back created the sensation that .would a cannon shot in the dreamy solitude of the sylvan dells of Arcady. Dupuy fell back as though struck by a Violent blow. And, indeed, he and his Interests would have every reason to believe, he now knew full well, that they had in all truth a new enemy to qpmbat, an enemy that would cost them dearly if he were to be vanquished. “You —you are Jerry Dolan, and you own the Advance!” the lawyer cried chokingly. “What are we coming to next?” he finally managed to say after a desperate effort to calm himself. Jerry Nolan, for none other than the old time strike leader it was, enriched Ly his mining operations in the rock ribbed Nevada hills, thrilled with the realization that he was now in a position to strike terror into the hearts and souls of those who had attempted to destroy him and his loved ones. He knew that he had in his power the men who had almost succeeded in their designs against him twelve years before. McHenry, at first even more puzzled than Dupuy and who was bending forward, with an expression of deepest Interest and concern implanted on his features, began to understand the situation more clearly when he heard his new employer say in a voice that pulsated with determination: “Yes, Ed Dupuy, I am Jerry Dolan, and I am back in the old town to pay my respects to my friends and—and”— his voice shook—“to my enemies.” The whole truth now dawned upon the amazed McHenry and also upon Dupuy, who had been dealing with men long enough to know that his only successful pose at the present momentous time would be a conciliatory one. He must at al) hazards smooth over this dangerous factor in the city’s affairs, the returned Jerry Dolan, and persuade him that he was now his friefid. “Well, well,” Dupuy began ingratiatingly, simulating a sickly smile, “this is a most interesting meetingmost interesting, indeed.” He laughed as loudly as the nervously contracting muscles of his throat would permit. "But it is time now to let bygones be bygones, eh, Mr. —er—ah”— He again thrust forward the hand that the' newspaper proprietor had refused to grasp. “Nolan,” answered the newcomer in his deep, strong voice, "N-o-l-a-n, with an *N’ and not a ‘D’ on the front end of it. That’s my name now. I had to change it.” He stopped abruptly and again directed his dark eyes menacingly on the face of the man opposite him. After a few moments he continued: “You see, Ed Dupuy, I was blacklisted as Dolan. Likely you’ll that too.” Nolan reached out and, seizing Dupuy’s hand, held it firmly. McHenry, at one side, witnessed with a distinct shock what he understood as Nolan’s sudden resolve to, as Dupuy had suggested, let “bygones be bygones,” else why should he shake hands with the man? Dupuy also felt a thrill of pleas ure, of triumph, as the one time chairman of the Street Railway Workers’ unidn warmly shook his band. Dupuy smiled and, bowing pleasantly essayed to withdraw his hand from Nolan’s grip and step away.. But bis smile turned to a wrinkled contraction of his facial muscles, indicating acutest pain. The giant hand of the ex-striker, ex-miner, was closing witi crushing force around the lawyer lobbyist’s fingers and knuckles. It did not cease to crush, try as Dupuy might to wrest his hand free. At the moment when he felt that he must scream in. his pain or else cringingly plead for mercy Nolan’s grip partially and he swung Dupuy to one side. A grim smile made its way into the furrows won by suffering and privation in the Nevada mining camps and; .desolate gold regions, that mark-ed-Nolan's visage. “You see. I’m sponger than you now, Ed Dupuy, just as you was stronger fhan me twelve years ago—you and

■Bartelmy between you.” A great sigh escaped him as he finished. Dupuy, now having freed his hand, rubbed it smartly with the other tb restore the circulation to the flattened veins. He • wheeled away to pick up his overcoat. Nolan now addressed McHenry, who had seated himself at his desk. “You’re the managing editor?” “Yes, sir.’’ “Well, I just want to tell you that that was a true article you had about that old hypocrite, Judge Bartelmy, this morning,” he stated to McHenry. “Have another tomorrow and stronger.” Another idea came to him, and he added, “Who was it got up that one today?” Dupuy felt that he must come to McHenry’s rescue. “A young man who has since resigned,” he interjected for the managing editor. Both McHenry and Dupuy were growing uneasy at the trend of Nolan’s thoughts and words. A glimpse into the craniums of them both at this moment would have revealed the same thoughts to be predominating: “What is he driving at?” Nolan appeared distinctly surprised at two things—first, that the writer of the story had resigned; second, that Dupuy should be so familiar with the matter. He took a step toward the latter. “Resigned?” he asked in reverberating tones. “How do you know?” Before Dupuy could answer Nolan wheeled on McHenry. “Is it so, what Dupuy says?” he asked of the managing editor. “Yes, sir.” “What’s his name?” “Wheeler Brand.” ■“What did he resign for?” “Some of the big advertisers forced him to,” admitted McHenry calmly. A look of understanding flitted across Nolan’s face. He shifted bis

glance front McHenry to Dupuy. Then, with a significant smile, he said: | “I see you are still on the job, Ed . Dupuy." “Well, it’s -business”— began the lobbyist defiantly. But Nolan would not I listen tb him: Thoughts vastly more . Important than conjecture as to Du-1 puy’s motives now crowded his brain. I “Where is Brand now ?” he asked sternly of McHenry. ' “I think he is in the local room now, sir,” pointing to the door at his left. The new proprietor strode impulsively to the doorway and called at the top pitch of his powerful voice: “Wheeler Brand! Wheeler Brand!” • * * *' ♦ * ♦ As he had hurried from the managing editor’s room after his dismissal from the Advance Wheeler Brand struggled valiantly against a wave of discouragement that assailed him and for a moment or two threatened to overwhelm. “Discharged for ‘beating’' the town on the story of the year,” he muttered. “Well, i’ll try to get 011 across the street.” he concluded, “across the street” meaning the Guard

lan, the bitter rival of the Advance He went to one of the long oak tables In the city room, where be seated himself next to Higgins, the leading police reporter of the paper, and began nervously to finish the story of a new bank merger on w’hich he had been working when summoned by McHenry. When he finished he laid the pages of copy on the city editor’s desk. He dragged a chair to a window, sat down and gazed moodily down at the crowds of people hurrying along the street below. It was not his dismissal from the staff "which chiefly concerned him. He was certain, of obtaining another position. In fact, his reputation along Newspaper row was such, and he felt justifiable pride at the thought, that he would be at work within twen ty minutes after leaving the Advance office if he so desired. But what did occupy his mind to the exclusion of almost everything else was the consideration of what view Judith Bartelmy would take when, she heard the news of his dismissal.. She had warned him that he was sacrificing his future in his attacks on the powers that be. Undoubtedly now she would be convinced, as some of his friends had al-_ ready . endeavored . to convince her, that, after all, he was a fanatic, an impractical dreamer, who could not accomplish his ambition to right what he believed to be great, wrongs, who could not, moreover, escape summary dismissal from his paper. But he must go on. He would go on. He would go that very night to a newspaper that would not suppress nor qualify the truth, one that would not distort facts nor misrepresent a situation in order to deceive the public, to which it was its duty to give the truth. Yes, and he would show the big thieves of the city that even if they managed’ to remain superior to the law at least they could not remain

. Superior to public opinion. The time 1 had come when—- | “Wheeler Brand! Wheeler Brand!” I The voice of Nolan Came to his ears 1 above the ticking of the telegraph in ■ struments and the clicking of type i writer keys. Brand started from his ’ seat. He did not recognize the voice, nor did any one else in the smoky city room, as curious upraised faces around him testified. It came from the managing editor’s room, however, so he hastened to respond, wondering what it could mean. -/.:.,/■■ Brand entered McHenry’s office and faced the three men, his surprise increasing as he saw from the attitudes of McHenry and Dupuy that a huge, rawboned, bronzed faced stranger apparently dominated the “Yes?” said Brand inquiringly to the stranger, whom he placed as the owner of the voice, because he knew it had not been McHenry’s or Dupuy’s - “I am NoTan. the new owhqr,” greeted the stranger. ’ ’ Brand stepped forward and offered

his Land. which Nolan grasped. “How do you do, Mr. Nolan?” the reporter greeted him, endeavoring to figure just what the mysterious proceeding portended. Nolan went straight to the point. “So you’ve been fired for that Bartelmy article, have you?” he asked. “Yes, sir.” NoJan turned and shot a triumphant glare at McHenry and Dupuy. Then

he caused the blood to rush almost blindingly into the head of the young reporter when he swung around, grasped Brand’s arm, drew him .over to the managing editor’s chair, beside which that official was standing, and said, “Well, Fye got another job for you.” Nolau put both hands on Brand’s shoulders and by main strength forced him down heavily into the chair. “From now on you sit here,” he announced. “You’re managing editor now.” (To Be Continued.)

“I’M JERRY DOLAN-BACK IN TOWN TO PAY MY RESPECTS TO MY FRIENDS AND—MY ENEMIES.”

“From now on you sit here.”