Jasper County Democrat, Volume 19, Number 79, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 December 1916 — Page 7

GOLD

By STEWART EDWARD WHITE

SYNOPSIS Talbot Ward’s challenge to Frank MunPoo to a personal encounter to determine whether Munroe is fit to make a trip to California In search of gold Is accepted. Munroe gets a hammerlock on Ward and wins the bout. Arriving at Chagres, Talbot Ward’* knowledge of Spanish and his firm treatment of the native boatmen help wonderfully. The party enter* a tropical foreetThey reach Gatun, and, after passing through several villages where Ward always diplomatically handles the natives, they arrive in Panama. Ward puts It up to each rnan to get 5220 In one day. Munroe makes $25 as a laborer. Johnny gambles and gets $220. Ward astounds the party by telling how, by shrewd business deals in one day fat the Golden City, he accumulated several thousand dollars. Ward decides that he will not go with the party to the mines, but will stay in San Francisco, where he thinks more gold la to be found. The party dig their first gold. They are not much encouraged when told that the Value*of .their first pan is 12 cents. Don Gaspar, a Spaniard, and his manservant Vasquez join forces with the trio and the gold is divided into five parts. After working like beavers several day* tha miners decide to take a day oft and attend a miners’ meeting In town. For sls a week In gold and a drink of Whisky twice a day Bagsby promises to lead the party to r rich unexplored mining country. A band of Indians come into the camp to trade. They are thankful for blankets. Loiter the Indians attempt an ambuscade, but are routed by rifle shots McNally is found with group of traders. Vasquez, left in charge of camp, Is found Scalped by the red men. Yank, Buck Barry and Don Gaspar are sent to town with $35,000 in gold. Barry and Don Gaspar return to camp declaring they have been robbed. Johnny gets into an altercation with Scarface Charlie. Johnny’s Splendid nerve attracts Danny Randall, who is seeking honest men in the camp. Scarface Charlie sends Johnny a challenge to meet him at the main saloon. Johnny, with another great display of serve, drops Scarface Charlie. Johnny and his express messenger friends arrest two of the Hounds who are tried for robbery. The lawless element controls tha trial and the Hounds are freed. Robberies grow more frequent as the lawless element holds sway. McNally and Buck Barry are murdered after the lawless element gets control of the city. Danny Randall organizes a vigilance committee. It is decided to publicly hang the leaders of the lawless element. The camp buzzes with excitement. Outbursts of the friends of the doomed men are checked by the determined attitude of Danny Randall and his committee.

CHAPTER XXV. Rounding Up the Gang. WITH the members of my committee I returned to our own camp, there to await the appointed hour of 7. This had fceen selected for several reasons—it '■was daylight, the roughs would be at [home, and the community, although afoot, would not yet have gone to •work. While waiting we cooked ourselves some hot coffee and made some flapjacks. The chill, gray time of day had come, the period of low vitality, and we shivered with the cold and with excitement. Nobody had much to say. We waited grimly for the time to pass. About G o’clock Yank arose, seized his long rifle and departed for the log cabin that had been designated as the jail. His lameness had prevented him from being appointed on one of the arresting committees, but he had no 'intention of being left out A half hour later we followed him into town. It was a heavenly fall morning of (the sort that only mountain California lean produce. The camp was beginning to awaken to its normal activity. I remember wondering vaguely how it could be so calm and unconcerned. iMy heart was beating violently, and I thad to clinch my teeth tight to keep them from chattering. This was not ifear, but a high tension of excitement !As we strolled past the Bella Union with what appearance of nonchalance we could muster Danny Randall nodded at us from the doorway. By this •we knew that Catlin was to be found |at his own place. Catlin dwelt in a detached room back iof the Empire, together with one of Ithe other professional gamblers. We jlounged around the comer of the Empire building. The door of the cabin was shut Outside we hung back, hesitating and a little uncertain. None of us was by nature or training a man of violence, and we experienced the reluctance of men about to plunge into cold water. Nobody was more than pardonably afraid, and of course we had every intention of seeing the affair through. Then suddenly in the actual face of the thing, itself my excitement drained from me like a tide receding. My nerves steadied, my trembling stilled. Never had I felt more cool in my life. Drawing my revolver, I pushed open the door and entered the building. Catlin was in the act of washing his taoe, and him I instantly covered with toy weapon. His companion was still

abed. On my entrance the latter had Instinctively raised on his elbow, but immediately dropped back as he saw the figures of my companions darkening the door. “Well, gentlemen?” demanded Catlin. r “You must i|be with ns,” I replied. He showed no concern, but wiped carefully his face and hands. “What am I wanted for?” he inquired. “For being a road agent, a thief and an accessory to robberies and murders,” I replied. “I am Innocent of all, as innocent as you are.” “There is no possibility of a mistake.” “What will you do with me?” “Yonr sentence is death,” I told him. For a single instant his dark face lit up. “You think so?” he flashed. “Hurry!” urged one of my companions. With one man on either side and another behind, revolvers drawn, we marched our prisoner in double quick time past the rear of the stores and saloons to the agreed rendezvous. There we found Danny Randall and his committee with Morton. Within the next few moments, in rapid suc-

"Your sentence is death,” I told him.

cession, appeared the others with Scarface Charley, Crawford and Jiiles. The camp was already buzzing with excitement. Men poured out from the buildings into the streets like disturbed ants. Danny thrust his prisoners into the interior of the cabin and drew us up in two lines outside, lie impressed on us that we must keep the military formation and that we were to allow no one to approach. Across the road about twenty yards away he himself laid a rope. “That’s the dead line,” he announced. “Now, you keep the other side!"

In no time a mob of 500 men had gathered. They surged restlessly to and fro. The flash of weapons was everywhere to he seen. Cries rent the

air—demands, threats, oaths and insults so numerous and so virulent that I must confess my heart failed me. At any instant I expected the mob to open fire. They could have swept us away with a single volley. To my excited imagination every man of that multitude looked a rufflau. We seemed aloue against the community. I could not understand why they did not rush us aud have it over with. Yet they hesitated. The fact of the matter is that the desperadoes had no cohesion, no leaders, and they knew what none of ns knew —namely, that a good many of that crowd must be on our side. The roar and turmoil and heat of discussion, argument and threat rose and fell. In one of the lulls an Irish voice yelled: “Hang them!'’

The words were greeted by a sullen assenting roar. Five hundred hands, each armed, were held aloft. This unanimity produced an instant silence. “Hang who?” a truculent voice expressed the universal uncertainty. “Hang the road agents!” yelled back the little Irishman defiantly. “Bully for you, Irish! That took nerve!” muttered Johnny at roy elbow. Fifty threats were hurled at the bold speaker, and the click of gunlncks preceded a surge in his direction. Then from the mob went up a sullen, formidable muttering of warning. No individual voice could be distinguished, but the total effect of dead resistance and determination could not be mistaken. Instantly at tbe words so valiantly uttered the spirit of cohesion had been born, the desperadoes checked in surprise. We had frieuds. How many or how strong no one could guess, but they were there, and in case of a battle they would fight. On our side the line was a dead, grim silence. We stood, our weapons ready, rigidly at attention. Occasionally one or the other of us muttered a warning against those who showed symptoms of desiring to interfere. In the meantime three of our number had been proceeding methodically with the construction of a gallows. This was made by thrusting five small pine butts, about forty feet long, over a cross beam in the gable of the cabin and against the roof Inside. Large dry goods boxes were placed beneath for the trap. About this time Danny Randall, who had been superintending the construction, touched me on the shoulder. “Fall back,” he said quietly. “Now,” he instructed several of us after we had obeyed this command, “I want von to bring out the prisoners and

hold them in plain vretv. In case or rescue or attempted escape shoot them instantly. Don’t hesitate.” “I should think they would be safer inside the cabin,” I suggested. “Sure,” agreed Danny, “but I want them here for the moral effect.” We entered the cabin. The five prisoners were standing or sitting. Scarfaee Charley was alternately blaspheming violently. upbraiding his companions, cursing his own luck and uttering frightful threats against everybody who had anything to do with this. Craw fold was watching him contemptuously and every once in awhile advising him to “shut up!” Jules was alternately cursing and crying. Morton sat at one side quite calm and very alert. Catlin stared at the floor. With revolvers drawn we marched them outside. A wild yell greeted their appearance. The cries were now mixed in sentiment. A hundred voices raised in opposition were cried down by twice as many more. “Hang ’em!” cried some. “No, no; banish them!” cried others. “Don’t hang them!” and blood curdling threats. A single shot would have brought on a pitched battle. Somehow eventually the tumult died down. Then Morton, who had been awaiting his chance, spoke up In a strong voice. “I call on you in the name of the law to arrest and disperse these lawbreakers." “Where is Tom Cleveland?” spoke up a voice. The appeal, which might otherwise have had its effect, was lost in the cries, accusations and counter accusations that arose like a babel. Morton made no further attempt. ITe better than any one realized, I think, the numerical superiority against him. The preparations were at length completed. Danny Randall motioned tis to lead forward the prisoners. Catlin struggled desperately, but the others walked steadily enough to take their places on the* dry goods boxes. “For God’s sake, gentlemen,” appealed Crawford in a loud tone of voice, “give me time to write home!” “Ask him how much time he gave Tom Cleveland!” shouted a voice. “If I'd only had a show,” retorted Crawford, “if I’d known what you were after, you’d have had a gay time taking me.” There was some little delay in adjusting the cords. “If you’re going to hang me jet at it!” said Jules, with an oath; “if not, I want you to tie a bandage on my finger. It’s bleeding.” “Give me vour coat. Catlin.” said Crawford, “l'ou never gave me anything yet. Now’s your chance.” Danny Randall broke in on this exchange.' A.'*-’'.-. ; “You are about to be executed,” said he soberly. “If you have any dying requests to make this is your last opportunity. They will be carefully heeded.” Scarface Charley broke in with a rough laugh. “How do I look, boys, with a halter around my neck?” he cried. This grim effort was received in silence. “Your time is very short,” Danny reminded him. “Well, then,” said the desperado, “I want one more drink of whisky before I die.” (To be continued.!

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The Woman’s New Year

THE recent years have brought to women a sane knowledge of health conditions and of pure food requirements. They have brought the great prize of an awakened feminine conscience and a sense of responsibility which has resulted in better school conditions and in mothers’ clubs and societies which have to do with the welfare of the young. And, us it is fitting that all New Year’s meditation shall have to do somewhat with resolutions, jt would seem that the modem woman’s outlook should Include the determination to seek new paths of effectiveness and achievement. And since her allegiance is to her husband, her children, her home, her friends, her work, to the world, she should resolve that the new year shall bring the broader viewpoint, the wider sympathy, the receptive mind, which shall make her respond to the needs of those whom she loves and shall make her a gracious and useful member of society. For myself I am glad that hope and health and friends have come to me in my New Year’s ships, but I go beyond this to be grateful for the wonderful treasures of idealism and opportunity which the New Year’s ships are bringing to you and to me and to all the privileged and fortunate women of this wonderful land of ours.— Temple Bailey In Philadelphia Press.

A New Year’s Allegory

ACROSS the snowbound earth the New Year stepped buoyantly. A splendid youth he was. with fadiant eyes, full red lips and the star of hope set above his brows, Life called to him, called with a thousand eager voices, and he smiled as he listened, remembering that for a whole year the world and the men thereon were his. Far away under the frozen sky a blaze of light shone like ii jewel, and he quickened his steps as he tiirued toward the city. And, though the lights shone boldly when he entered it, most of the streets were empty. Only a few men were about, and as the wind swirled at corners they ran for shelter. In one of the streets the New Year met a woman. A dark veil fluttered around her, so that he could not distinguish her form, but her face was very sweet as she bent and clasped a child to her heart. The New Year gave her greeting. “You are Charity, I know,” he said. Charity laid tier hand in his and smiled. Add, for all his youth, her smile set him dreaming of green woods and golden sunshine, of vague, sweet things that w'ere still unknown to him. Indeed, so deeply did he dream that as he walked he collided with another woman. Another woman ! A glittering gas moth this, with a pert, powdered face, cannined lips and hard, bright eyes. “All hail!” she cried mockingly. “I shall be your constant companion, for I am Kin, and where men are there you will always find me.” The New Year shrank back, and his face darkened. Rut Kin pressed close

to him, laughed loudly and, tearing a rose from those at her breast, tossed it to nan, as with a rustle of silk she passed on. The rose fell on the snow powdered walk, and when the New Year would have picked it up, 10, it was scentless, and as its crimson petals fell asunder he saw that a worm was hid in its heart. Another form came in sight—in the garb of a monk with a dark ‘ hood about his

tranquil face. His eyes were upon the ground, and his lips moved in prayer for all mankind. So tender and pitiful was his face that even before lie cried, “Miserere Domine!” tbe New Year guessed that his name eyas Mercy. Very cold it grew as the New Year turned into a mean street, so cold that lie sought refuge in the porch of a d; i kened house. Yet there prevailed such u grateful warmth that he press-, ed back to learn its cause aud so brushed against a boy—a boy with a wan, beautiful face, tangled hair and rapt eyes. Shabby, desolate and tired he looked, yet the New Year was wonderfully attracted to him. “Why are you here alone?” he asked. “I am never alone,” corrected the boy, and lie stepped aside so tliat tbe New Year caught the fragrance

o* his breath and saw that two great wings were furled behind him, and in the shadow of his wings an old man and an old woman crouched together. How tired, how poor, they looked! But an expression of ineffable tenderness shone on their pinched faces as they lay, white head against white head, chilled breast against chilled breast. “I am all they have,” whispered Love as tears filled his wonderful eyes. ‘‘They have never fail-

ed me, and I sliaTl stay with them until the end.” “I am the End!” called another voice, and a grim figure mounted the steps. “Not yet,” bogged Love, aud be tried to bar the stranger’s way. But at sight of the scythe the other bore Love's great wings drooped. “Mine is the best gift of all,” whispered tlie newcomer as he bent over the forlorn couple. Silently the New Year walked alone with the night and the stars and the scurrying snow. Andas he hurried on the darkness faded into the eerie pallor of dawn. He stretched out his arms and welcomed his first day. “Charity, Sin, Mercy, Love and Death,” he cried—“all mine! How shall I choose from among you?” A shadow fell across him; there was a sound as of wings beating the air, and Love, rosy, triumphant and eternal, caught hig hands. “Let me go with you all your days,” he pleaded, ‘for mine la the gift which sweetens Charity, vanquishes Sin, glorifies Mercy and fears not Death.”

“All hail!” she cried mockingly.

Tenderness Shone on Their Faces.

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Here's wishing Everybody New Year Joy

HAPPY NEW YEAR, men and women! Happy Now Year, girls and boys! Hot mo wish you all sincerely Twelve months brimming lull of joys. May new hopes and aspirations Stir within your hearts today, Searing last year's disappointments From your memories away. Turn around and lace the sunshine With its constant warmth and cheer, Firm resolving you will seok it Every day tnroughout the year. Clouds winch darken your horizon, While you’re gazing toward the light, Are collections of thin vapor Which will soon drift tint of sight. Let unselfish love for others Prompt you olt to noble deeds; Flowers blooming by tho roadsifle Are more beautiful than weeds. Through life's mazos wo all wander, Many stufnble as though blind, So a helping hand be often Stretching forth to lilt mankind. May this New Year be mueli better Than tho other years you’ve passed; Lot it be a strong foundation, Built to hold your iuturo fast. Use enough good bricks and mortar So your edifice won’t snake Should the earth begin to tremble With a war or giant quaka. —Grace Sorenson in Omaha WorldHerald.

A New Year’s Day Reflection

ALL years are not alike In value to the race or the individual; neither are all days. There are bluek days and white days, weeks that are burdensome and weeks that are like a merry chime of hells, months that rumble with the thunder of defeat and months that resound with the shouts of victory. There is no monotony in time. It varies as does the landscape. In one period it is as level as a western prairie, with no special experiences to mark its passage; in another changes come and events occur which make the weeks resemble the Alleghenies, mountain heights gathered together like a great company of giants whose shining helmets are visible though you have traveled far away and stand on your horizon line; in still another some day or week with its wondrous happenings rises from the plain of memory like a veritable Mont Blanc, and though seventy years be counted in your calendar you still see its summit and say, “That was the hour when my new life began.”

On the First Morning. It is curious to find the Puritan Judge Sewell a hater of all holidays and set days, recording with much pleasure his being awakened on New Year’s morning In sober Boston in 1098 by a levet or blast of trumpets, and he celebrated Jan. 1, 1700, which he thought was the opening of a new century, by writing a very poor poem and causing it to be cried or recited through the town by the town crier. Bale bills > printed while yon wait at The Democrat office.

®hai WilH ( ♦ thc^New Mjjjfe

THAT this shall be a better year Than any passed away I dare not at its open door To Wish or hope or pray. Not that tho years already gone Wore wearisome and lone, That so with hope too.long deferred My heart has timid grown. Nay, rather that they all have been So sweet to mo and good That it lor better I should ask Twould seem ingratitude. And so with t iiings far olf and strange I do not care to cope, But look in iWomory’s face and learn What largess I may hope. Another year of setting suns, Of stars by night revealed. Of springing grass, offender bud* By winter’s snow concealed. Another year of summer’s glow Of autumn’s gold and brown, Of waiting fields and ruddy fruits The branches weighing down. Another year of happy work. Which better is than play; Of simple cares and love that grow* More sweet irorn day to day, Another year of baby mirth And childhood’s blessed ways; Of thinker’s thought, and proph*tfc dream, And poet's tender lays. Another year at beauty’s feast. At every moment spread; Of silent hours when grow distinct* The voices of the dead. Another year to follow hard Where bettor souls have trod. Another year of life’s delight, Another year of Ood. —John White Chadwiok.

In twenty generations every person has had 1 31,076 direct ancestors.

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