Jasper County Democrat, Volume 19, Number 88, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 January 1917 — Page 7

GOLD

By STEWART EDWARD WHITE

SYNOPSIS Talbot Ward’s challenge to Frank Muaroe to a personal encounter to determine ■Whether Munroe la fit to make a trip to California In search of gold Is accepted. Munroe gets a hammerb>ck on Ward and wins the bout . They 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 man 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 to the Golden City, he accumulated several thousand dollars. The party dig their first gold. They are aot much encouraged when told that the value of their first pan is 12 cents. Don Gaspar, a Spaniard, and his manpervant Vasquez join forces’with the trio and the gold is divided into five parts. After working like beavers several days the 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 toad the party to a rich unexplored mintec country. ▲ band of Indians come into the camp $e trade. They are thankful for blankets. Later the Indians attempt an ambuscade, tout are routed bv rifle shots. Johnny and his express messenger friends arrest two of the Hounds who •re tried for robbery. The lawless element controls tho trial and the Hounds •re freed. Bobberies grow more frequent as the lawless element holds sway. McNally tid Buck Barry are murdered after the wless element gets control of the city. Danny Randall organizes a vigilance committee. It is decided to publicly hang 4he Leaders of the lawless element. The camp buzzes with excitement. Outbursts of the friends of the doomed men •re checked by the determined attitude •f Danny Randall and his committee. Arriving at San Francisco with little to show for their stay In the gold country, the party hunts up Talbot Ward. They meet Ward. He is one of the magnates of the city. While they have been hunting gold Ward, by clever real estate speculation, has grown rich.

CHAPTER XXX. Plutocrats! • WE felt very elated and rather small. Talbot had alone and without, so to speak, moving from his tracks made a fortune, while we, after going through many hardsphis, adventures and hard work, had returned almost penniless. One of our first tasks was to convince Talbot of the injustice to himself in giving us shares based on a proportionate money investment. We made him see after awhile that his own genius counted for something in the matter. He then agreed, but reluctantly, to reduce our shares to a twentieth each and included me in this despite our previous adhered to that my proportion would have been nearer a fortieth. This having been decided after considerable argument,, we settled down to wait for the completion of the Ward block. Once the rents from that structure should begin to come in, it was agreed we should take out ready money enough to return east. The remainder, less Talbot’s expenses, would of course have to go back into releasing all the other interests. The formal opening had been arranged for the Ist of January. In the meantime we loafed magnificently and lived on my money. Now that our futures were all assured, Yank and Johnny condescended to temporary loans. . Occasionally we could help Talbot in some of the details of his varied busmesses, but most of the time we idled. I do think we deserved a rest Our favorite occupation was that of reviewing our property. To this end we took long tramps over the hills, hunting painstakingly for oßscure corner stakes or monuments that masked some one of oUr numerous lots. On them we would gaze solemnly, although in no manner did they differ® from all the other sagebrush hill country about them. In a week we knew accurately every piece of property belonging to our interests, and we had listed every other more tangible equity or asset One of Johnny’s favorite feats was to march Yank and me up to a bar, face us and Interrogate us according to an Invariable formula. (We must have presented a comical ■ight, I with my great bulk and round, I fresh face alongside the solemn, lank •nd leathery Yank, both of us drawn op at attention and solemn as prairie flogs. ■ “How much is one-twentieth of two ! MEHBftSand thousand?” inquired Johnny. “One hundred thousand,” Yank and ,■•1 chorused. ' “Is that a plutocrat?” demanded Johnny cryptically. “It is!” we cried. . . Our sense of our own financial importancebeing thus refreshed, we advanced In rigid military formation to the bar and took our drinks. Two : million dollars was the amount we had chosen as representing the value of •ur interests. In deciding upon this figure we considered ourselves very moderate In refusing to add probable future increment It might also be

added that we equally neglected to deduct present liabilities. Nobody ever guessed what this mysterious performance of ours meant, but every one came to expect it arid to be amused by it In a mild way we and our fool

More likely shot,” put in Johnny bluntly.

monkeyshlnes came to be a well known Institution. Having nothing else to do, we entered heartily into the life and pleasures of the place, and we met many of the leading citizens. From them I heard of the state, of commercial affairs, with its systems of consignments and auctions!, its rutnors of fleet clipper ships, its corner of the market, its' gluttlngs with unforeseen cargoes of unexpected vessels and all the other complex and delicate adjustments and changes that made business so fascinating and so uncertain. All these men were filled with a great optimism and an abiding enttiusiasm for the future. They talked of plank roads, of sewers, of schools, churches, hospitals, pavements, fills, the razing of hills, wharves, public buildings, water systems, and they talked of them so soberly and in such concrete terms of accomplishment that the imagination was tricked into accepting them as solid facts. Often I have gone forth from listening to one of these earnest discussions to look about me on that wind swept, sand blown, flimsy, dirty, sprawling <famp they called a cify, with its half dozen “magnificent” brick buildings that any New England village could duplicate, and have laughed wildly v until the tears came over the absurdity of it. I was young. I did not know that a city is not bricks, but men; is not fact, but the vitality of a living .ideal. In the town outside we made many other acquaintances, of all classes of society. In 1849 no sociqf stigma, or very little, attached to any open association. Gamblers were respectable citizens, provided they ran straight games.

Among the others we came across a preacher we had seen holding forth on the wharf. He was engaged, with the assistance of two men of the Methodist persuasion, in building a church. The three had themselves cut and hewed the timbers. Mr. Taylor, for that was his name, explained to me that, having no money, that seemed the only Tray to get a church. He showed us his own place, a little shack not unlike the others, but inclosed, and planted with red geraniums, nasturtiums and other bright things. “As far as I know,” he told us, with pride, “that is the first garden in San Francisco.” In the back yard he had inclosed three chickens, two hens and a cock. “I paid $lB for them,” said he. We looked at each other in startled astonishment The sum appeared a trifle extravagant considering the just acknowledged impecuniosity of the church. He caught the glance. “Boys,” he said quaintly, “San Francisco is a very lonesome place for the godly. The hosts of sin are very strong, and the faithful are very few. Mortal flesh Is weak, and mortal spirit Is prone to black discouragement When . I bought those chickens I bought $lB worth of hope.. Somehow Sunday mornipg seems more like the Sabbath with them clucking around sleepy and lazy and full of sun.” ' I We liked him so much that-we turned to at odd times and helped him with his carpenter work. While thus en-i gaged he confided tons bis intention | to preach against gambling the next 1 Sunday in the Plaza. We stopped ham- j . mering to consider this. , • | “I shouldn’t if I were you,” said I. “The gamblers own the Plaza, They are respected by the bulk of the community, and they won’t stand any non- ! sense. They, none of them, think any- 1 thing of shooting a man in their places. I don’t think they will stand for it I am afraid you will be roughly handled.”

“More likely shot*’ put in Johnny bluntly. “Well, well, boys, we’ll see,” said Taylor easily. Nor could we move him in spite of the fact that as we Came to see his intention was real, we urged very earnestly against it “Well, if you will, you will,” Johnny conceded at last, with a sigh. “We’ll see what we can do to get you a fair show.” ’ “Now, that is just what I don’t want you to do,” begged the old man earnestly. “I want no vain, contention and strife. If the Lord desires that I preach to these sinners he will protect me.” Ln the end he extorted f*om us a re-

luctarit promise not to" in. gle in the affair. Taylor arrived about 10 o’clodSk and proceeded briskly to the pork barrel that had been rolled out to serve as a pulpit. He faced a lowering, hostile mob.’ “■•Gentlemen,” said he, "if some means of communication -existed by which the United Slates could this morning know that street preaching was to be attempted in the streets of San Francisco. the morning papers, badly informed as to t lie-temper and disposition of the people of this new country, would feel themselves fully justified in predicting riot, if not a.ctual bloodshed, Furthermore, I do not doubt that the greater dailies would hold their forms' open to report the tragedy when news of it- should come in. But we of the west know better than. that. We know ourselVfes rough and ready, but we know ourselves also to be lovers of fair play. We know that, even though we. may not agree with a man. we are willing to afford him a fair hearing. And as for rioting or bloodshed. we can afford to smile rather than become angry at such wide misconception' of our decency and sense of fair dealing.” . Having in this skillful fashion drawn the venom from the fangs of the mob, he went directly ahead at his sermon, hammering boldly on his major thesis. He finished in a respectful silence, closed his Bible with a,snap and strode away through the lane the crowd opened for him. ■ ‘ ' Truth to tell, there was much in the 'sermon. /Gambling, aftlTOUgh considered one of the respectable amusements, undoubtedly did a great deal of harm. Men dropped their last cents at the tables. I remejaffer one young business man sold out his share in his firm for SIO,OOO in cash and three notes for $5,000 each. He had every intention of taking this little fortune back To his family in the east, but he began gambling. First he lost his SIO,OOO in cash. This took him just two days. After vacillating another day he staked one of the notes, at a discount, of course. This he lost A second, note followed, the first, and •everybody confidently expected that the third would disappear in the same fashion. But Jim Reckett, who was a very good sort, took this man aside and gave him a good talking to. “You confounded fool,” said he, “you’re barred from my tables. My advice to you is to go to your old partners, tell them what an ass you’ve made of yourself and ask them to let you have a few thousand on that last note. And then you leave on today’s Panama steamer. And, say, if they won’t do it, you come to me.” The young fellow took his advice. (To be continues.)

ENLIGHTENMENT

By EDNA SAWYER.

Barbara Wharton knew from the first that there was not the slightest excuse for it. The .second time she had met him she had known of his marriage, yet to the strangely reserved, cautious little girl there was something dangerously attractive in Jerome Towne’s keen eyes and graying temples. She yielded to his requests fbr her time whenever he could make an opportunity to visit the town, and treasured the notes, penned in a tiny, almost feminine hand, that reached her frequently, carefully guarding this, her first “affair,” from parents and neighbors. Time and again she pondered upon the emotion that would follow discovery of the intimacy. As one wholly unconcerned she pictured the resentful anger of the town. She, the pride of all the neighborhood, had stooped to a silly flirtatiqn with a man old enough to be her father —she, whose family flourished upon years of selfsatisfied esteem. ■ ■ . • . ’ . . ■ ; - • • V Because her mother was a mother there was no need to tell her. She knew of several moonlight strolls in which the city man bad joined her pretty • daughter. She recalled the dancing eyes and rapidly crimsoning cheeks w’hen, feigning need of information as to his rose bushes, Mr. Towne had on several occasions sought their home. Barbara had at first been hearty in her avowed admiration of the striking, well-groomed man. With secret annoyance her mother had noted the gradual discontinuance of the frank comments. A note, written the day before, fallen from its envelope, caught Mrs. Wharton’s eye as she rummaged in her sewing table, and she picked it up, disclosing the city man’s handwriting. She read the delicate lines twice through. “Dearest of Girls—l’m sorry; I can't see you today. But Tony will bring you this, and tomorrow I shall meet you at the station and take you up to the city with me for the day. We’ll see a matinee and have dinner at Colmer’s. Can you, will you manage it? Remember,- I shall be waiting. Hopefully; J. T.” Mrs. Wharton dropped her sewing, crumpled the little note in her lingers and started out, down the winding road. Somehow, Barbara seemed very old, very capable, all at once —whs there nothing to be done? One couldn’t order a twenty-two-year-old daughter to stay at home. And then Mr. Wharton’s- tall, Square frame came into view as he moved about his rose bushes, and mother caught her breath with a little gasp. She formed a plan. “You don’t mind if I go up to the city on the noon train, mother?" Barbara was wiping glasses after breakfast the next morning, and she

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didn’t look up as she made the query. ‘Td like to match the ribbon for my dress, and—and —I want to go mother!” . “If you think best, dear,” Mrs. Wharton tried to catch Barbara’s eyes, and failed. Barbara went through into the dining room and returned, slowly. And her mother put up a quick hand and brushed something from her cheek. “Mother! Why, there’s something the matter 1 You’re sick!” Two strong arms whirled the little grayhaired woman to the light. “Mother, what is it.” “Nothing that I can’t tell you some other time, dear.” Mother sighed softly. “There’s no need worry—about me.” “You’ll tell me this minute.” “When you come back, dear—” Her mother hesitated an instant to gather courage. “I —I can’t spoil’ your trip. Go and have a good time —” “No, sir.” Barbara seated herself on the broad window ledge and braced her shoes with a determined stamp, and mother rejoiced inwardly. “No.t one inch do I stir unless you tell me.” Her mother stifled a nervous sob with small success and stammered with the words: “It’s daddy,” she whispered finally with a backward glance of terror lest the walls should hear. “Daddy I” Barbara’s bewilderment transfigured her face. “He’s —dearie, how can 1 make yott understand —such a little girl, lie's growing tired of me, Barbara. He’s — I—” “Mother!” The bewilderment had changed to reproach. “I think he is interested in somebody else, dear!” Mrs. Wharton finished bravely, with a rush. “It can’t be, mother! You’re mistaken. Why, not our daddy, mother.” “What does it mean, dear, when a man with a wife seeks the company of another woman Who is younger and prettier? What can it mean, except—that—’’the mother sought words to express her emotion, but her tears were mysteriously dried, and she spoke with telling seriousness. “You can’t understand, except the woman who sees the man who’s shared her life drifting from her, drawn by a thoughtless girl.” “Poor, dear mother! I’ll to daddy—you leave him to me! But now—-oh, mother! I want to go down to the station, for just one minute. Eve got to, dear." And Barbara was gone, hatless, breathless. Mr. Wharton smiled understandingty over his wife’s head when, five minutes later, Barbara rushed Into the kitchen with flaming cheeks and flung a trembling arm about each. Both •knew “the manner of Jerome Towne’s cllomiecal

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Design A-A, by Glenn L. Saxton, Architect, Minneapolis, Minn.

PERSPECTIVE VIEW—FROM A PHOTOGRAPH.

INTERIOR VIEW-MODEL SANITARY LAUNDRY.

Making'Monday a pleasure instead of a dread is just what has been done in this house plan. Everything is within reach and all of the machinery worked by electricity, making the day’s work run systematically in, every'Way. Although, the conveniences are so practical, there is a great deal to adnfre in the design and beauty of this bungalow. Can be built, exclusive of heating and plumbing, for about $7,500. „ : • \ Upon receipt of $1 the publisher of,this paper will furnish a copy of Saxton’s book of plans, “American Dwellings,” which contains designs, costing to build from SI,OOO to $6,000; also a book of interiors, $1 per copy.