People's Pilot, Volume 4, Number 29, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 January 1895 — THE GREAT LARAN REBELLION. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE GREAT LARAN REBELLION.

BY NYM CRINKLE.

[Co rr right. 1894] CHAPTER IV.— CONTINUED. “Then we have no time to lose,” said the woman, calmly. “These people •re all friends. You are to change your garments immediately. My serv•nt will help you. Explanations and further directions must wait.” She called the negro servant and ■aid to him: “Now, then, Fan, be as quick as you can. Wo are fifteen minutes late.” “This way, professah,” said the servant, with a grin, as he pointed to the old milL

Laport, witnout further words, made • bow and followed the negro into the dilapidated structure. Here, in one of the recesses where there remained a dear space and a flooring, there was a hamper such as is used at picnics. There were one or two plates and a xlapkin conspicuous on its strapped lid. The negro brushed them away and hurriedly tore open the basket. It was packed tightly and carefully with a complete outfit of clothes, which the man lifted out and spread in a pile upon a clean newspaper. Laport was watching him with curfbus interest. “Excuse me, sahi,” said the servant, “you ain’t got no time. You got to git dem duds off lively. I’se goin’ to dress you. Take ’em off-take ’em off —l’se got to put ’em in dis yere wicker works.” Thus recalled to the urgency of the moment Laport began at once to divest himself of the disgufee he wore. As fast as he relieved himself of his clothing. the negro placed it in the hamper, •nd when it was full he excused himself and carried it away. He was not gone more than five minutes, and when he came back he was empty handed. What he did with it Laport never knew. But even then he had an instinctive feeling that its complete destruction or effectual hiding had been provided for. Fan then proceeded to dress him in the most expeditious, but the same time the most scrupulous, manner. In spite of the nervous anxiety of Laport, he could not help wondering at the systematic provision that had been made for a thorough and complete change of appearance. The linen, cuffs, collar, studs, sleeve buttons, finger ring, watch chain, had not been forgotten. He was quickly dressed in a handsome suit of gray tweed, an immaculate vest and a fine soft black hat with a broad brim. He was shaved with marvelous dexterity, fitted with a flowing gray wig and gold glasses, a pair of silk stockings and riding boots with spurs, a field glass thrown over his shoulder and rouge given to his face; and when Fan held up a little mirror before his eyes, Laport 6aw himself transformed into a comfortable well-to-do governor with a florid face that indicated good living. “Excuse me, sah,” said Fan, as he admired his work. “You’ll hav’ to sojer up; jess frow out your bress and put yer ■boulders back. Yer got a bad sag in

yer backbone. Der duds ain’t made for it. Jess one more pint—pood nufl, if yer can hold him dar.” Fan ran his eye over the details and looked at a little watch that he carried *x his vest pocket. Laport saw that it was exactly like the one Kent had given him and that the womau had exhibited while he was on the millstone. Indeed, it reminded the servant to replace in Laport’s vest pocket the timepiece that Kent had given him. He did this with the remark: “Dat’s de general’s time. T’other one’s for to make a gallus show.” A moment later he had gathered np all the evidences of his work and summoned the lady who appeared to be his mi*tress. She came in flushed, as if ■he had been riding, looked at Laport eritically and said: “You are Dr. Samnel Franklin, of Cincinnati, and I am your daughter. You are to assume, to the best of your ability, the manner of a rather peremptory but kind-hearted parent. Yon can scold me for my extravagance a little if you like. Yon are to carry this roll of Plils and when called upon pay our expenses. You are also to take this little checkbook and draw your check as I direct. Further directions I can give you as we journey. The horses are at the door.” Five minutes later Laport was on the back of a handsome horse, riding by the side of a jaunty and spirited companion immediately behind them *od« three others, who made np the

group. The way for some distance was across fields, but presently they came into one of those grass-grown lanes that divide farms, and adittle later struck a common country highway running southwest Not a word was spoken by Laport's companion for a mile or two except an occasional direction as to speed. But after an .hour’s ride they came to a group of houses, when she said: “It is necessary that we show ourselves here. You are to preserve the air of the father of the family—that is all” At the largest of the houses the party drew up and asked for a drink of water of a» man at the door. While it was being served Laport remained in the road—the rest drew up chatteringly at the door and managed adroitly to tell the man how they had been disappointed in their ride and were hurrying back to Shirleyville. Some questions were also asked about better roads; and then, with flippant jests, some coin was flung to the man and they started off again. It was now half-past three o’clock and a ride of half an hour brought them to an intersecting and evidently not much traveled road. “We turn south,” said Laport’s companion. “The rest go on to Shirleyville. Do yon understand? There is no telegraph on our route.” The moment they were in the new road she said: “I shall have to ask you to make the best time you can for the next five miles, until we come to another highway. Your horse has a good gait—let him have his head.” She then struck her animal and Laport followed her. The pace was a painful one, for he no longer had the suppleness of youth. But determination supplied him with endurance, and they rode at a rapid pace through an uninhabited tract, and he was much relieved when they turned once more into a well-traveled road that ran in a westerly direction, and his companion said: “You can take it easy now. We’ll walk our horses here and let them dry. We are safe. If yon are pursued the scent will lead to Shirleyville.” She drew up by his side as she spoke. “I can now tell yon,” she said, “what your route will be. We shall stop for the night at a hotel in Charlotte. It is ten miles farther on. You will pay our bill in the morning with a check

which the landlord will cash because I have already cashed the two which Mr. Kent got you to sign, and the landlord knows they are g ood. There is a branch railroad running from Charlotte to Penkanky—thirty miles west. We shall succeed in the morning in getting off with our horses on a trip to the Penkanky glen. The horses will go on to Brankenford, where they will be taken care of, they having been obtained there. At the Penkanky house we give out that we are going to stop with a friend in town and leave the hotel in the evening. You will then have to walk three miles to reach a trunk line railroad. If wo catch an express train we shall most likely be in Wheeling just six hours ahead of a dispatch.” “But if we do not?” asked Laport with considerably more curiosity than apprehension. “In that case we shall have to depend on the discrepancy between the description and the appearance. The probability is that the pursuit will be thrown off at Shirleyville. There is no means of knowing that we left the party until the pursuers reach the party. They will then have to retrace their steps. The landlord at Charlotte will tell them that he has been receiving your checks before the date of the escape, and saw you sign one with his own eyes. It will take some time afterward to ascertain that we are not in Pankanky yet. If, however, the telegraph is used without waiting to ascertain that fact the detective will board the train when we pull into Wheeling.” “Are you prepared for that?” “Yes. You change your disguise before taking that train.”“Ah,” said Laport, with relief. “And you go on alone,” added the woman. “Yes?” said Laport, inquiringly] “You reach Cincinnati and go to the Columbia hotel, an obscure place. You will look on the register for Bernard Biddle. He’s your old friend. He will get yon over into Kentucky that night. On Friday morning at ten o’clock yon will be at the rendezvous appointed by Mr. Kent. I will myself join you three days later. Once at that point you are absolutely 6afe from pursuit.” Laport looked at her. “Ido not quite see how that can be," he said. “You will see clearly enough when yon arrive there,” replied hie compaa-

CRAFTS* ▼. On Friday morning a tired and dusty traveler in a miserable Tennessee wagon was driven up to the rugged acclivity in Henderson county now known as Fort Surges. It was then a wild, overgrown region and all the traveler and the negro who drove him conld see sticking ont of the brash half a mile up the rocks was the unpainted roof of a small frame house. The traveler got out, stamped his feet as if he was cramped by long riding, gave the negro a two-dollar bill and began climbing the rocky bank It was Laport. He sat down on the doorstep of the house somewhat winded by the climb and looked about him. The prospect to the east Apd north was open revealing what appeared to be a desolate wilderness of rocks and forests, with here and there the bine peaks of the distant mountains showing between. While he sat there, the door opened; a man whom he did not recognize appeared and spoke to him familiarly. “Come inside, professor—yon can rest yourself much better indoors.” He looked at the speaker. It was Kent, but save for something in the tone of his voice, Laport did not know him. He appeared broader and heavier and older. He considerately assisted Laport to rise, saying: “I’ve been waiting breakfast for you. You may dismiss further anxiety. Your troubles are ended. Yon mnst be hungry after your long ride.” Once inside the house, a well-spread table presented itself and the men sat down. “Let us,” said Kent, “avoid the usual formalities. Explanations will prepare the way to rest. Yon are naturally amazed at what has taken place and anxious to know the motives of my action. I will proceed at once to relieve your mind and replenish your system. Let me advise you to drink coffee—it is a necessary prophylactic in this place.” He called to a servant who came in from the one other apartment and brought the meal. Laport looked on with expectancy and was silent, while Kent both ate and talked. “You have been most cruelly thronged,” he said. “You are not guilty of murder, for that was not

yonr intention. Society took from the world a genius and locked him up. You are at present, and so long as you Btay here, beyond the reach of society. Ido not intend to interfere with your liberty. 1 shall make you a business proposition. If it does not meet with your approbation you can depart. I will not betray you. If it does yon can work for me a year, save a handsome competence and spend the remainder of your days in some safe place comfortably. You are not eating.” “Pardon me,” said Laport. “I will drink this coffee and listen to yon. I have no appetite.” “Perhaps a drop of stimulant?” “No,” said Laport. “My curiosity to hear what you have to say is too great to permit me to eat. Proceed.” “There are two orders of men, Mr. Laport,” 6aid Kent. “One order deals with ideas, the other with events. They are incompatible, but supplementary. The greatest achievements

are brought about by the association of the two orders of talent. One order is reflective and creative; the other is executive and administrative. We represent the two orders. lam not satisfied with events as they occur. I am going to manufacture them on a large scale.” He paused a moment and took a few mouthfuls of food. Laport was regarding him curiously. “This sounds a little abstract, .bnt it is a necessary postulate. I’m not a crank. Like yourself, society has wronged me. I propose to rectify some of the evils of eoo&ofet If that sound*

chimerical, let me remind yon that the details of your rescue ought to eonvinca you that I am a man of method, accustomed to deal with facts and adjust myself to circumstances. Yon are under some obligations to me. I propose to avail myself of those obligations in only one way—it is by making a confidant of yon and depending upon your cense of loyalty, no matter what arrangement we effect. The pledge is implied. I have to put myself in your hands to a certain extent. Yon are a free man. Yon are not directly or indirectly to betray my confidence, even If yon do not stay with me. That, I merely say, is understood.” Laport bowed his head in acquiescence. Kent smiled. “It is hardly necessary for me to say to you that I would not have this confidence in your sense of loyalty if I had not acquainted myself with your character and I hardly would have taken the extraordinary means to secure your services if I had not believed I oould depend upon you. Verbal pledges are unnecessary, my dear sir. “In carrying ont the vast projects which I have in my mind for the rectification of some of the evils of society, I shall necessarily come in collision witt society and it was necessary first of all to find a secure place safe from interruption, Impregnable and unknown to the world, where I could carry on the extensive organizing scheme. That place is under your feet.” “I do not understand you," said Laport, looking curiously about him. “Under this floor,” continued Kent, “is the entrance to the largest cave that has probably ever been explored by man. I discovered it by accident seven years ago. I bought this piece of land and erected this house over the entrance. I purpose to buy the whole two thousand acres of wild land that covers a great portion of it, and erect here a large building ostensibly a sanitarium. It is for the fitting up of this nndergronnd domain that I have taken such pains to secure your aid. I need in it an electrical plant; a water system; electric railway, and heating apparatus, besides means of defense and other modern appliances. I have estimated the cost of my internal—or, perhaps, I should Say, Intestinal—improvement at something like a million dollars. It is for you to say, when I have taken you over the ground, if you will sell me your mechanical skill for a year and what it will be worth." Kent waited for a reply. After a moment’s hesitation Laport said: “It seems to me, sir, that at this time I am not in a position to make terms. If you succeed in demonstrating to me the practicability of your plans, the best I can do is to offer you my services and advice in so far as the scheme meets with my approbation.” “Well, I can only say that such an arrangement will not do at all. I do not intend to implicate you in any of my schemes. I wish to employ your censtructive ability at a reasonable price. If the work that I want done is practicable to the engineering and mechanical inind, and you give me your services for a year, will fifty thousand dollars compensate you?" [to xs continued.]

“COME,” SAID KENT. “I WILL SHOW YOU MY POSSESSIONS.”

“I PROPOSE TO RECTIFY SOME OF THE EVILS OF SOCIETY. ”