Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 35, Number 21, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 November 1902 — The Iron-Worker’s Daughter [ARTICLE]

The Iron-Worker’s Daughter

BY HOWARD FORRESTER.

CHAPTER IV.—(Continued.) • S "And to think! The thing you were bringing me was a lot of lies—printed lies to mislead honest men. It was to carry this stuff to me you went to the mill. Well, the story will keep—4l will keep. An open circular would not have misled you; but these people are so rich now they can waste hundreds and thousands of dollars on stamps. How long will it be until dinner is ready?” “I can have it ready in fifteen minutes at most—maybe sooner.” “There’s no hurry, child. I’ll be back soon—l'm going over to Jack’s.” The Ironworker put his hat on and left the house. He must talk to some kindred spirit—Jack Jones was the man. The ironworker’s daughter was in the act of frying potatoes when a gentle rap on the door startled her. She deftly slipped the stove -lid under the pan to preventffie potatoes from burning in her absence,' and opened the door. As she opened it a deep blush mantled her face. The visitor was Arthur Mayberry. He lifted his hat, bowed, begged her pardon, looked disconcerted, then said: “Possibly I have made some mistake, Miss Atherton.” He glanced up at the number, blushing furiously. Miss Atherton was quick-wit-ted. Sbe was noted among her friends for always doing the right thing. “If you will tell me what number you are looking for, sir, maybe I can be of some service to you.” Arthur Mayberry thought he had never heard a voice as musical as the ironworker’s daughter possessed. “Why, there is some absurd mistake, I dare say. I was looking for Number 22.” is 22. Pray come in." jcrowd staid however and were , found by Sheriff Lawrence and , ’ Jarty on their arrival about 111. ) clock and one of them who had I seen selected as ring official said ;hat the fight was called off on kocount of a disagreement over J he purse. Whatever the reason, it was j lucky one for the promoters and « •rinoipals of the fight as Mr. I jawrence went prepared to put I he whole crowd under arrest and i bring them back with them. The day of prize fighting in Lake ! County is past and all attempts to revive it will probably meet with or cun ai “My father will be in in fifteen or twenty minutes at most,” said Irene. Mayberry suspected the truth. He had called at their dinner hour. He rose, replaced his hat, and placed his hand -on the knob of the door, saying: “I had no idea it was your father, Miss Atherton. Please tell him I may call later in the day, or—l can see him in the mill.” There was a sound of voices on the street. As Arthur Mayberry opened the door, still looking at the ironworker’s daughter admiringly—he could not remove his eyes from her—lrene started. The loudest voice was her father's. He was very angry. The other voice was that of a stranger. It was evident Sir. Mayberry recognized her father’s voice. He thought he recognized the voice that puzzled Irene. He could not step ou£, nor could he act upon his first impulse and close the door again, for that would simply- be an admission that he had heard all that was aaid on the street. He began to speak of the sudden death of the manager of Star Mill, when the voices on the street rose louder and sharper. Atherton’s voice was loudest. “If you ever insinuate —If you ever hint at that again—as sure as there is a heaven above us ——” “Hah! You threaten me!” “You infernal scoundrel! You--yon—-villain! Go away, before lam tempted to do something!” The Listeners heard a sneering laugh. The strange voice answered in a low tone, then, s/fldenly and without warning, the ironworker pushed his door wide open and confronted his daughter and Mayberry with a pale face, and hands trembling hke one afflicted with a palsy. CHAPTER V. The ironworker stared from one to the other, then with a mighty effort regained self-control. “You find me in a temper, Mr. Mayberry—if you knew; but I won’t talk about it. Is it anything particular you want to see me about?” Mayberry, recalling the circumstance afterward, remembered Atherton did not ask him to sit down. “I called in relation to an advertisement, but I did not dream it was yours.” “Yes, yes,” said Atherton. He was flurried. “But really, Mr. Mayberry, I can’t talk business just now—l must cool off. I —we can talk it over at the mill. Sorry things have happened this way—but it’s not nly doing, it’s all that ” Here the puddler checked himself and bit his lip. "Mr. Mayberry might stop and take dinner with us, father. It is almost ready.” “You are welcome —none more welcome, to such as we have,” said Atherton. “I’m not as mindful of these things ns my daughter, Mr. Mayberry. We would be pleased to have your company." “Not now,” said Mayberry. “You will excuse me to-day, Mr. Atherton." Mayberry bowed and withdrew. Whin the door closed upon him, Atherton sat down suddenly. “Yon are not well,” said his daughter, with concern. “It is nothing,” said her father; but alie wondered none the less. His tone, bls manner was strange. Instead of hanging his hat up cheerily, and speaking lightly of the affairs of the house, Atherton sat moodily, tossing his hat on a chair near him. “Dinner is ready, father,” said his daughter, a minute Inter. Atherton rose, passed a hand over his face, sighed heavily—lrene had never

heard him sigh before—and sat down. He helped his daughter, then helped himself. But he did not eat much. And presently he began to talk in a tone his daughter had heard him indulge in but rarely, except when some of his fellow-molders came in for an hour or two. ■■ “I suppose Sam Gummitt will be manager, and then there’ll be trouble. The way things are running now, a workman hasn’t much chance. If he dares to say his soul is his own, he hears of it. And if he stands up for his rights they manage to get rid of him some way. It’s not hard finding an excuse. Capital rules the day.” “Maybe things will take a turn for the better, papa,” said Irene, smiling. “I hope things may—l hope they may, but it don’t look like it. I’m too poor to try my own ideas, and because I don’t knuckle to some fellow who would rob me of my brain work, I'm out in the cold —and likely to be.” “It may be, Mr. Mayberry wijl help you find a way to try your invention.” “Maybe.” Atherton looked at her sharply. She was apparently unconscious of his scrutiny. He was going to speak, when a light rap on the door attracted his attention. . “Come in.” As a large, heavy-built man entered, Atherton exclaimed: “Ah, Jack! Just the man I want to see.” “I was out when you came over,” said the visitor.' “Sit down. Jack.”

The visitor settled himself comfortably by the fireplace. It was merely a matter of habit. He might have sat out of doors, the weather was so fine. “Anything new, Jack?” “They do say as how Gummitt will be over us.” “Ah!” “However, it ain’t just settled.” “No? What seems to be in the way,

now?” “O! I’m not sure. They do say as how Gummitt has some prime new idea.” Atherton, who was standing, wheeled around suddenly upon hearing this. “Gummitt got an idea—a prime idea!” Jack Jones’ eyes twinkled. He could scarcely preserve his gravity. Something was welling up in him —something he was trying to keep down, but it would not be repressed. “Yes—Sam’s got an idea—a brand r.ew one. Ido not say ’twus his own. What’s to hinder any man having a new idea — isn’t it as easy to carry borrowed ideas, as ’tis to carry your own?” The puddler drew a deep breath, picked up a chair, planted it in front of his neighbor, and sat down. Then he said in a sharp tone: _ “Jack, what’s in this? You’ve heard something. Tell me all about it.” “Give a fellow time, Dan. Don’t come

at me like a house afire.” ‘*Come—out with it, Jack.” “Why, then, they do say Gummitt has found a new process.” “What is this idea? Is it anything like .mine, Jack?” “Well, now, if you come at me that way," Jack began, but his friend interrupted him. “Cofne. Jack; you know —everybody knows —Sam Gummitt is a man who has only his doggedness and his close month to recommend him. I don’t deny he is a good workman—but he is not as good as half a dozen you know. And he never originated an idea in his life. So, if it is anything like my idea ” “It is.” Atherton leaned back, and loked at his visitor steadily.

“Who told you this?” "Well—it’s come to me two or three ways, Dan. But there’s no doubj; of it. If it isn’t your idea, it’s mighty nigh it.” Atherton rose and paced the floor. Then he stopped in front of his guest. “Jack, do you know what I’ll do if Sam steals my invention?” “Give him a licking—a right down good one. He’d deserve it.” „ “I’ll do worse than that. I’ll show him up—and whoever backs him. If there’s any law in the land.” "Ay, there’s plenty of law, but where’s your justice? If he has some one at his back with a long purse—eh? What will you do then?” iltherton’s answer was sharp and quick. “If I can’t get justice, and Sam Gummitt steals my plans, -I’ll deal with him myself. I don't think he’ll like to force me to that —but let any of them try to rob me, and they will find it’ll cost them more than they will like to pay.’’ “I just thought I’d give you warning.” “I’ll not forget it, Jack.”

“I hear so many stories about people stealing patents —and we’re always reading about infringements. But it’s time enough to worry when you're sure he’s got your invention.” “No,” said Atherton with energy. “Now is the time." They sat looking at each other quietly a few minutes, when Jack suddenly said: “Tell you what. Dan. There’s n man could maybe help you. Why didn't jou think of him long ago? He knows all the owners—and they say he has a pile of money, too.” “Ah! that's my man—somebody who has, or can control, a good deal of money.” “Yes, it will take a goodish bit, I reckon. This man can help you in eyery way with owners, seeing as he ia dealing with them every day, and knows the inside and outside of the whole business.” “Who is your man?’ “Jackson Gripp.” “Jackson Gri ——The puddler half rose; his face grew pale; his eyes were fixed on his visitor’s in a stare that alarmed his neighbor, who in his turn stared at Atherton. Then he called out loudly: “Ho! there, come here quick.” Irene Atherton sprang to the door In answer to the call. As she entered the room, big Jack put out his hands; he was Just in time to prevent the puddler from falling forward. “What has happened? What is H?" Irene asked quickly as she knelt beside her father. “I don’t know, miss, more than you do. We were talking, when all at once he choked, and that’s all I kn»w about it.

It’s mighty stuange. Your father never had no fainting spells, had he?* Irene shook her head. ’ - -- “Best let me help you put him to bed.” “It’s something terrible—it is like death —oh! can it be he is dying?’ Irene was beside herself with terror and grief. She felt his pulse: she lifted his head; she put a hand over her father’s heart. ... “Run, run for a doctor, for heaven’s sake!” Jack Jones gave her a single backward glance, then ran for the doctor.

CHAPTER VI. When the doctor arrived, Dan Atherton was walking up and down his house in a fine temper. “I am Very much obliged to you, Jack,” he said to his fellow-worker and neighbor as that individual looked open-mouth-ed at him, “but really I am as well aa ever I was.” The doctor, a young practitioner, looked at Atherton narrowly, then at bis daughter, who speedily, beat a retreat to another room, tljen at Jones. “It does not look as if my services were needed.” “No, they are not. But your time is worth something. O! yes, but you must,” said Atherton, as he forced a bill into the young man’s hand. “I’d rather pay to be well than sick any time.” He spoke so cheerily that Jack Jones looked more and more amazed at him. “If I need a doctor, be sure I shan’t forget you, either. I guess it was a fit of lndigestion<br something. I have been a little out of sorts.” “No doubt that’s it,” said the doctor, finding he must say something. “At all events, there does not seem to be anything wrong with you now.” The doctor retired speedily, two dollars richer than when became. Then Jones, who was puzzled exceedingly, went home, wondering at the strange thing he had witnessed. Dan Atherton, despite his daughter’s wishes, went out, saying he might not return until evening. His daughter pondered over his strange illness; the sudden seizure and swift recovery were unaccountable. Meantime Dan Atherton made his way to the office of a mill owner who had the reputation of a public-spirited, enteri prising, liberal man. The puddler had worked in his mill, but had never addressed a word to the mill owner in his life. He found somedifficulty in getting access to the owner. It was only when three or four visitors were bowed out of the mill owner’s office that Atherton Was admitted. h|r. Chubb looked at him sharply as he awaited his communication. “My name is Atherton, sir. I worked is your mill four, years ago.” “Well, Mr. Atherton?”

“I called to see you on a matter of business. About a new process.” “Humph! A new process, eh? Sit down. I find I’ve got—yes, just ten minutes to spaije. If you can give me an idea of your process, or what you propose to do, in that time ”

“No, I will not take up your time, Mr. Chubb. I can’t give you an idea of a thing it’s taken me eight or ten years to study out, in ten minutes. I thought you might be interested in it—that you would at least listen to a plan that will double your present capacity without costing you much, if it works at all; but I’ll not bother you, sir. Good day, sir.” And the puddler found himself standing on the sidewalk, -cursing the pride of the mill owner, classing him with nil the spoiled capitalists, while Mr. Chubb was wondering, as he said to himself: “What the world was coming to, when a workingman—a common workingman-dared talk to a man like him in that style!” Atherton was standing irresolutely before Mr. Chubb’s office, when he espied Arth u r May berry approaching. His first impulse was to turn his head aside. “Then he chided himself for an ungrateful, narrow-minded fellow. He owed his daughter’s life to this young man. Why should he avoid him? More especially since Mayberry had called to see him in answer to his advertisement. He turned, and when young Mayberry came abreast of him said: “We meet again.”

“Yes, and at a time that just suits me, if it suits you, Mr. Atherton.” “Oh, any time suits me.” “I know a place, a quiet place, where we can talk business without interruption.' Or, if you prefer it—as I do —there is a very quiet restaurant near here, where we can get some oysters.” “I'll take the oysters.” said Atherton. “Come,” said the puddler’s new-found friend, as he led the way. “That Chubb has given me such a backset,” said Atherton, angrily, “that a man can get a bargain of me now.” “I don’t ask any more than I would be willing to give,” said Mayberry. “If your idea is worth money, I will try to get it out of it for you and me and my backer.”

Arthur Mayberry guided the puddler to a restaurant near at hand, ordered oysters for two, and, passing into a box, reated himself, saying: "Now I am prepared to listen to you, Mr. Atherton.” The puddler began in a low tone, end very soon the eyes of his listener sparkled. As Atheyton described his plans, Mayberry struck the table with his hand. “You have struck it, Mr. Atherton!” “Eh? You see it?”

“See it! Why, I see it as plain as I see you.”

“I’m not a visionary, am I?’ “A visionary! You are eminently practical.”

The young man's estimate of the puddled underwent a sudden change. Here was a man of extraordinary ability—a rough diamond utterly overlooked., "But tell me,” he said to the puddler, "where did you acquire such information ?”

“Well, by using my eyes, and reading —mostly thinking out things that's puzzled most of us.” Atherton’s tone and manner was that of a modest man. But he was confident of his powers—confident and self-reliant. Mayberry thought, “all that this man requires is education to shine.” "You think my Idea is all right, eh?’ "Mr. Atherton, I won’t say just all I think of it now. I know it will work, and it will make us or whoever goes in with us, rich.”

Atherton's eyes sparkled. This was the first positive encouragement he had received. “It is plain as day to me,” said Mayberry. He was talking rapidly, and in a tone that could be overheard, when the puddler said: '5 “Not so loud—there is somebody in the next box.” Mayberry was surprised. He Inclined an ear. Then he said, in a low tone:

“Do you think they heard?* “I’m suffi’of it.” “They did not hear sufficient to interfere with yonr plans, have they?” “It depends on who is next us. If they are in the iron or steel business ” “I see,” said Mayberry. “I would like to know—l am very curious to learn who JaJtßxr : “And I am determined I will knowsince it has gone so far. Let us sit silent, and wait until they go out.” They sat looking at each other, and listening for the occupant of the box next them to depart. Presently they heard the occupant moving a chair. But he did not leave his box. Atherton, wearying of waiting, made a movement to Mayberry, rose and stepped to the door of box. Mayberry rose also; he was passing out after Atherton, when the door of the stall next them was opened suddenly, and Mr. Gripp confronted them. Atherton advanced to him as if he intended speaking, but he changed his mind suddenly, and turned aside. “Good day, Mr. Gripp,” said Mayberry, in his Cheery, off-hand way. “Good day, Mr. Mayberry.” (To be continued.!