Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 19, Number 30, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 19 January 1889 — Page 2

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THE JV1AIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

ST. M'CHAEL, THE WEIGHER,

Stood the tall arobangel, weighing Ail man's dreamiag. doing, saying. All the failure and the gain. All the triumph and the pain. In tho unlmagined years. Pull of hopes, more full of tears, Since old Adam's conscious eyes Backward searching for Paradise, And. instead, the flame blade Of inexorable

LAW.

In a dream I marked him there, With bis Are gold flickering hair. In his blinding armor stand. And the scales were in his band Mighty were they, and full well They could poise both heaven and helL "Angel," asked I humbly, then, "Weighest thou the souls of men? That thine office is, I know." "Nay," he answered me, "not so. But I weigh the hopes of man Since the power of choice began In the world of good or 11L" Then I waited and wasjrtilL

jn one scale I saw him place All the glories of our race. Cups that lit Belshazzar's feast, Gems the wonder of the east, Kublai's scepter, Cesar's sword. Many a poet's golden word. Many a skill of science, vain To mako men as gods again.

In the other scale be threw. Things regardless, outcast, few. Martyr-ash, arena-sand, Of St. Francis' cord a strand, Beechen cups of men whose need Fasted that the poor might feed, Disillusions and despairs Of young saints with grief grayed hairs, Broken hearts that break for man.

Marvel through my pulses ran, Seeing then the beam divine Swiftly on his hand decline, While earth's splendor and renown Mounted light as thistle down. —James Russell Rowell in America.

Keeping the Cash.

BY J. T. M'KAY.

[Copyright].

Ono fine winter morning "The Great Asiatic and Ocoanican Spice company" came down with a great crash, and little Will Bronnan was turned into the streets. It was a hard time, and Bren searched vainly day after day for a situation. Finally, thoroughly sick and beaten out, he was forced to give it up and go home to Crawley on tho Trickle. Ten months before ho had met Kate Arrow and, to mako long short, was before now about as fast to that merry, good hearted maiden, with the pretty face and winning ways, as there w^s any need. And so far he had had littlo cause for complaint. Since he was thrown out of work he had not seen Kate, lie thought every day he should get a place, and ho had a feeling that ho would rather not go until ho could see his way. He couldn't tell her ho was a beggar, ho said and he wasn't going to pretend to her, at least. Then he got discouraged, and maybe a little heart sick, and stayed away because he hadn't gone before. So ho came home on tho Trickle, not meaning to stay long far from Quincy street, but forced to go somewhere and knowing nowhere else. Ho had been at homo only throe days when a letter came to him from his old friend, Charley Traveler. They two had fallen out somo mouths before, and Bren had very soon seen that he had been to blame. He had meant to go over and mako it up. But making up is not just tho ploasantest business, nor is putting off the hardest. Then Bren was too proud to iro with his trouble, "when he hadn't gono before though ho knew the first won! would havo brought Charley round. So ho was not a littlo surprised to recognizo Traveler's hand on the envelope. Hero is the letter:

DKAK BURN: I only heard Sunday that you was off your feet. I had almost forgotten you was in the A. and O. Spice. (I'm glad it's gone up. It was a bad shop.)

I say, Bren, why didn't you come round? It was shabby of you not to givo a fellow a chance to use you, when you was looking round. I went over to Colo when I heard of it, and he told me you was off for C. Now, Bren, if you're not fast yet, you'ro just tho fellow I want. Comedown and keep my books. I've been doing a bigger business than at first this winter, on a very small percentage. Wo clear wry little over and above, but I find it's tho ouly way to keep tho mill going in these times and I'm working into a trade that I think will float us nicely bv and by. But it makes so much to look after that I can't keep tho books up at all as they should be. If you can come, I'll have the whole thing off my mind. I can't make it worth much to vou now, but you'll have your slice of what there is, and I think the pudding will be bigger before long, and mavbo moro plums it.

This Is no mado up job, Bren I hope you'll think it worth your while to come. In haste, Cn. T.

That was Traveler's way of makii Friday morning, that samefv took his seat at tho desk in Traveler's

ngnp. i, Bren

hardware store, 7 Griffin's row. Ho found the books correct as far as they went, but one sided and fallen behind. "You see, Bren," Traveler said, looking over Bren's shoulder and pointing out this and that, "I've been so pushed, I've let our creditors keep their own accounts. I'm careful where I deal, and of course they don't know that I keep things at odds and ends. I don't believe I've lost much by it. But I don't like slip slop, von know and of course you'll have It all in black and white. And I say, Bren, I don't want to look at the books if "l can help it. I've got enough outside. You'll want to get the cash up to date the best you can. Then yon can start fair. You can work up the rest from the bills and the blotter as you get time. I'd balance the cash every morning, and deposit on Saturdays with tho Cutlers' and Grinders'. Pay statements in checks, or in cash if there's ©nov. ton hand."

Piu of which Bren understood to signify that Traveler was going to trust him entirely, and keep no watch or check upon him. Bren was grateful to his friend, and remembered with no great pleasure his part in the coolness between them. He took a bit of paper lying bv him, and drew pot hooks around it with his pen. "I say, Charley," he ^wreaks out, looking: up, "I was a fool in that Oallicott business. It's hanged good of you not to mind." "Come, Bren." Traveler answered, "that's enough of that."

So Bren set to work, thankful and happy. He was on his feet a^rain. He Vas.harjlj^rijIgLhia^f^r nowf

he was glad to J6e quit of that flash concern, and he had got back his best friend. Bren was rather rusty at accounting. He get on pretty slowly. He made up his mind he would not see Kate until he had brought the cash up to date. It would be an incentive to him and, besides, he stayed away so long, he would like to have something worth while done before he went back. It was after 6 on Saturday night when he laid the blotter between the leaves and closed the book with a bang. He had brought the cash down to date, and balanced it "by short." At eight he turned into Quincy street out of Palmetto place. He felt a little flur» ried as he went along it was three weeks since he had spoken to Kate, and all that while she had been rising in his thought, until now she seemed to Bren a being of unearthly goodness and beauty. He felt a little afraid he wondered how he had dared be so free and merry with her as he remembered such a day. But then she had been so kind and so merry herself. And she seemed to like to have him come too he could see her now, as she had smiled so frankly and given him her hand in welcome the very last time. No, there was nothing to fear. He knew she could never change she was so good, and true, and kind. He would tell her all about this trouble of his. He was up on his feet again, and could afford to tell her now. Ho would tell her about Charley—what a brave, noble fellow ho was—how he had paid wrong and neglect bv the most delicate kindness and the fullest trust. He knew she would admire his friend as he did.

Maria let him in. He found a number of people gathered for a little evening party. He met Mr. Arrow as he entered the parlor, and stopped to speak with him. Glancing aside, he saw Kate across the two rooms. She was sitting b^a table, talking and laughing with a tall young fellow about his own age. He was standing, leaning over a book or picture they wero examining. Kate fronted Bren as she sat, but her fac6 was turned aside. Bren could eeo that the faco was flushed a little the light of a shaded jet fell broadly upon her. But she did not appear to have seen Bren doubtless the flush was only the heat of tho rooms. Bren forgot what he was saying to the gentleman he stammered something and moved on. In a moment he seemed wholly changed. Tho trenior of mingled joy and fear was gono to its placo leaped suddenly a hard, hot feeling of pain and hate. Tho stranger was a good looking fellow, self possessed and easy, with a ready laugh and smile, and not a bad face. Bren did not know why, and did not care but ho hated tho fellow from the first glance. Ho made his way through the rooms and went up to Kate. Ho forced back the bitter feeling and put on a careless air. She got up when she saw him, and gavo him her liand. Her greeting was civil enough, but somehow it exasperated Bren. His eyes glanced up to the stranger standing by. She took it up instantly as a signal that "Bren would like to bo introduced which it ccrtainly was not. She turned and introduced him: "Mr. Robert Brower."

Bren shot a quick questioning glance at Kato's face turned away, could make nothing of it. He gave the stranger rather grim greeting. He had not asked to make his acquaintance ho didn't want to know him, and ho wasn't going to lio about it. "Very happy, I'm sure," Brower said, and bowed.

"lrcrj/ happy, Vm sure," Brower taid. The two measured each other, as they stood faco to face an instant. Bren was a poor dissembler his look was plainly defiant and threatening, in spite of him. And though Brower face was bland, there was the slightest possible contraction in the upper lip, and his eyes spoke the truth out squarely, as eyes will. Between the two, it was all tho same as though he had said: "The insolent little beggar! Ill teach him better manners before this game's played."

And the game seemed to have anew zest for him from that time. He was well armed. He had skill, address and temper. With those three weapons one need not oasily despair of any earthly prize. Bren liad a good deal of quickness, was usually bright and merry, with an evident sincerity and kindness of disposition. But he c6uld not well hido dislike or annoyance. He felt ho was no match for the ether, and the feeling put him out and showed him to tho worst advantage. Brower was so cool, so bold of word and laugh, so bright and handsome withal. He seemed to rob Bren of all his likable qualities. Beside him, Bren appeared an awkward. ill conditioned fellow enough. He hardly knew how the evening passed. Ho was glad to get out into tho cool night and the darkness of the streets. His face felt flushed and hot he burned with a passion of hate and disappointment. It had come upon him so suddenly and so unexpected. He said it was tocfjkard he didnt deserve it. He had taken his evil fortune manfully, had stood odt against fate and done his honest best, and it wasn't right that he should be so paid. Oh, it was too hard I He cursed it all and himself for a grouty fool. Why had he not met this fellow on his own ground? He was not so clever— him—it was brass than brains. But what right i,:.J she to 'torment him? If she hadn't cared for him, what did she mean by lea ig him on? Hadn't sher been plainly i.-jised by having him came? She had shown it plainer than words a hundred times, If she badnt cared for him, what right had §he to keep him on until he was too fast to break? who was she, to take it upon her to break a man's life for her sport or pride? What was she, before heaven, more than he? If she was purer and finer, whose praise was tV**? Did she try harder, had she more t' ptationJ Would ho act like that? He'd die first.

Bren walked and walked up laid dowii the deserted streets, he did not care how or where. A feeling of awful loneliness crept over him. He wished he was back at home he wished he was a child again. He JqiyrsL for the touch of tfco ceatie

'MM

EahdlEailiarsmootEed_away

the gentle voice that never failed to comfort. Bat the bruise was deeper now, poor Bren face and hand were far away and vain to help.

Bren turned at last to go home. The breadth of the sleeping city lay between. The wind blew cold and damp he shivered and turned his back. Shame and crime stared at Mm out of the gloom and flitted by like horrible ghosts. He shrank back scared from their touch, and fled away through the desolate streets. The day was breaking dimly over the eastern roofs when he climbed up to his attic room and crept shivering to bed. And while the peaceful Sabbath morning broke and brightened over river and town, Bren tossed wretchedly a while and then fell into a heavy sleep, and dreamed that Kate was kind again and all the world was heaven and woke to wish he had not. Poor little Bren, no doubt it was rather hard!

Bren stood a poor chance, it must he owned, unless fate and the fair one favored. He could not he himself when Brower was by. He made all sorts of resolutions he would put a bold face upon it he would be free and merry—would treat Brower civilly and coolly, as Brower did him. Then he would go and meet Brower, it might be, at the house and his heart would rise into his throat at sight of the fellow, and he would scowl at him out of his eyes, over the smooth words he tried to say. And then he would bo awkward and disagreeable in spite of himself. And Kate got to be cold and reserved and Bren would come away raging and ready to cry with vexation and pain. So it went on. Bren could not keep away. It made him stamp and curse to think of that fellow, looking so manly and frank, having it all his own way. He must go and see what went on.

Cole dropped in upon him one night. He talked of indifferent things a minute, sitting on tho bed while Bron shaved at the glass, twelve inches by eight. Then he broke out abrubtly:

W

Bren, I say, w^y don't you haul off? That got tho wind of you It'll only bo the harder by and by."

And Bren turned round with uplifted razor, and his face quite white. it, Jim, 1 can't!" he answered fiercely, and stamped on tho floor. "I tell you, if she throws me, I'll kill him."

And he made a lunge with tho open blade that made Cole shrink, and threw it on the floor. And he turned away aiid fairly sobbed, And Cole saw it was no use, and came away sorry and grim. He did not think much of Bren's threat he knew his friend's hot way But he was very sorry for poor Bren ho know ho had no great strength, and was bound up in tho girl, body and soul. Besides, it was no pleasant thought to have to doubt this Kate Arrow. He had known her long before Bren, and had liked and admired her thoroughly, watching her apart as was his wont. When he was sick of the world's meanness and shallowness he had liked to think of Kate and assure himself there was still to be found goodness and artless truth. And now to havo to doubt even Kato—it was a grim thought. And just this is one of the sorriest things that can befall. It shakes one's faith in it all you feel that the very foundationsv are broken up. If I have looked here year after year, yeu say, and found all fair and sweet, and one day I come and find rottenness at the very core, where shall I put my hand and say, Hero is soundness and sweetness? If this that I have sworn to has fallen out so, what may be next and next? It's not a pleasant thought, friends, nor a pleasant thing. God help us when our friends fail, or when we fail our friends!

Well, tho wretched business went on. Bren could not make Kato out. But he could not say where the difference was. Sometimes ho even suspected it might be all in himself. But he could not get on for all that. And the deeper he got into trouble tho harder it was to put a decent faco upon it, and the plainer it showed in his look. Brower took no notice of his ill disguised hatred was offensively polito and ofiiciou9 on all occasions to Bren. And he managed in endless dexterous littlo ways to put Bren out or place him in au ungraceful or ridiculous light and Bren had little skill to return tho fire.

One night—it was at a "sociable" at the Cotwoods', I think—Bren was sitting disconsolate, talking indifferently with Mrs. C., tfhen some movement in the rooms tlireSv him close to Kate and a little asldo, just as the company began to broak up. Bren looked so wretched and down hearted as he spoke to her that she could not but pity him. Sho gave him a kind look and baae him good night quite in her old way and Bren came away with a lighter heart than he had had in many a day. One gentlo word had power to change Bren's whole view of things. He looked back to these wretched weeks past, and to himself of an hour ago, with a sort of doubt and wonder. The hard, bitter

feeling was gone, blown clear away by a breath. He stopped in the street and forgot himself, staring into the gutter and trying to make out what it was all about. Hn/i Kate been to blame after all? had it been aJl his own doing? He could not remember that she had shown Brower any special favor, The fellow had been friendly and obliging could she be less than civil? Well, he didn't know. He had bron ill conditioned enough, at any rate. But he'd drop that. He'd be himself again. He felt sure Kate had not changed. He went over and over her words and looks to-night. He saw her face in tho darkness, and heard again with a fond thrill her sweet, low, pitying tone. And so he faced home ana to bed. and ilept like a happy child.

Going down to the store next day, he was

thinking

Here was Brettenham'a now he had walked hero one night in the holidays with ftitA. He remembered how sho had laughed and wished she were queen and could have her wish of all that sparkling array. Here was a tray of diamond rings that she had specially coveted. He wondered if any of them were tho very ones. He would havo liked to buy her one that minute. He knew it was no use bat be went in and priced them.

Bren went round to the store. It was the first of the month he would have a busy week of it making up his debtors' statements.

An

boor later a statement was laid an Bren's desk. He finished bis count carefully, put his pen between bis teeth, sat op ana looked at the beading of the bilL "Charles V. Traveler JTaffelfingcr4

..., ^v?to

Sit.

JHERKE HAUTE SAT KPAVEISTING MAHJ

the smart,

Co.,T5r." Bren turned to the ledger In* dex, ran down the H's. "Holmes, Harris, Hinkley, Haffel finger, 184." He turned over the pages, found the account and rapidly ran up the columns of figures —$827 and odd. The bill lay face down he turned it up and glanced at the totaL Then he turned white in the face. The figures of the total were these: "$648.88." Bren ran up his own account again no error—$827.15. He saw his hand shake as he reached out for the file of bills payable. He ran over the indorsements— "Harris Appleby Jagger & Smith Haffelfinger, one, two. three, four, five. The first that turned up was dated three days back—$123 and cents. Here it was on the statement, "Bill of merchandise, $123.60." The samo with the second, third, fourth—backward in order of date. That was tho whole of the statement. On Traveler's books there was one more entry: "Feb. 23, by Mdse. per Bill— $183.79." Hero was the bill, indorsed the same: "Haffelfinger & Co., $187.79."

Bren felt a little sick just then. He leaned on his hand and shook as if with fear. Do you know what it meant? Let me tell you. It meant that the devil camo and put before Bren's face the hardest temptation that it waspossiblo to contrive, as Bren then was. Here he was. a free, generous boy, and just now miserably poor. He lodged in a bare, mean room, up four flights. Efe ate coarse fare, and stinted himself to keep himself presentable to Kate. He was in trouble lie was hankering for money this very morning as he never had before. And here came nearly two hundred dollars and dropped into his very hand, and he had nothing to do but close his fingers upon it and no man need ever know.

This is how it was: This bill for $183 had never.been charged on Haffelfinger's books. Either tho salesman had neglected to enter tho salo, or tho bookkeeper had neglectcd to post the entry from the salesman's book. Do you think it unlikely that this thing should occur? It happens In the most systematic houses in the country. It happens many times in every year. And this is the result: If the buying firm do a large business they employ a cashier, who Is bound to filo with the bookkeeper a vouchor for every dollar of income or expense. In these cases the creditor's error must be known to both bookkeeper and cashier, and it is probably reported and set right. But in very many ies, as in this case of Traveler's, the ness will not afford such expense, and whole thing rests in one hand. Bren gjt the cash and the whole set of books. HeMp only to pay tho bill's face, balance the iHcount by the proper amount on the ledger, and enter the same on the debit side of the cash, and ho would be richer by $188. and no man knowingly the poorer, without the slightest probability that ho would ever be found out!

I should say that this is the strongest part of any temptation whatever—to be thoroughly assured that no man need ever know. You may think it a little thing you may say Bren was very weak and no better than he should be even to doubt. And, certaiuly, virtuous reader, nobody dreams for a moment that you would have doubted or slipped. But, for his part, this person writing is free to confess that if he had sat on Bren's stool that raw, gray April mornitig, he too would havo trembled and been afraid. He trusts, indeed, that ho would not have failed even, then. But ho feels that it wc^ld havo goue hard and ho is not going to bo too hdrd upon littlo Bren if be shall not stand fast.

Bren saw it all at a flash. The error was mado by tho interested party their shipping cleric's book would never be looked through, except for special reference. Once done there would be an end of the matter forever. I do not say Bren thought of taking the money. Consciously he did not think it over then but ho saw it all at the first glance. He sat up and shut his teeth. What was the matter with him ?—what was he afraid of He was no thief, ho hoped. He would not act hastily, indeed but he would get at the facts of the case first, and thon he would do what he deliberately should make up his mind was right. He took up the bill—"Clasp knives, razors, Groman's traps, axes, spokeshaves, levels, Dunderbone's fellers" (Bren laughed derisively that was Brower's saw), "everlasting scrubbers^ shovels,

fower

rather hardly of the hard

timos. Not that he blamed Traveler. No Charley had enough to keep a warm nest for his mate and the two little birds. But he did want to havo more money just low. It would be such a lift to him. He felt that he could be more of a man. He tras not afraid of this Brower if he could only be himself. But Brower had the advantage of him every way. Kate was fond of all bright things, of jewels, pictures, spectacles, music—of pleasure parties and the rest. Bren knew if he only money he could stand nearly level and bo better able to keep a brave face.

-,

ricks, drawing room washers." In the left hand corner was written in Traveler's hand, "Gray." It was a habit Charley had, Ben knew, of putting the salesman's name on his bills. It was Friday. There was cash enough in the drawer. He counted out the full amount and folded it into the bill and locked it in tho safe. He would show himself he meant to act squarely. But he knew Haffelfinger had the name of a hard man. If he had heard was true, such a mistake as this would ten to one cost tho man his placo. It was no more than right that he should have warning. Bren wrote off a note and sent the boy down with it.

The boy brought back an answer signed "R. L. Gray. He lived at 8 Parade place, corner Carroll, third floor. He would be at Mr. Brennan's service at 8 o'clock.

Bren walked down Carroll street a little after 8. Eight Parade place was a grocer's shop. It was a rather quiet neighborhood. The houses wero mostly alike, of brick, with a general shabby genteel appearance. Bren entered the hallway and went up two flights of rather steep and narrow stairs He knocked at a door, and it was opened by an elderly man with gray hair, stooping shoulders, and a thin nervous looking face. "Is there a Mr. Gray living in this house?" Bren asked. "My name is Gray," the old man answered. "Yours, I suppose, is Brennan?" Bren was surprised. He had expected to find a younger man. "Come in." Gray said, and drew up a chair by the stove (it was a raw night). Bren sat down. The room was poorly furnished, but neat and quite home like. A lady like person got up as Bren came in, and went out. Old Gray sat opposite Bren and waited. "You will pardon me, sir, I hope," Bren began, "if I seem to be intruding upon your privacy. Let me assure you that I menu you no incivdity, and have sufficient reasons for what I do."

The old man bowed, and said nothing but he watched Bren's face with a wondering, half appealing regard* Bren went on: "You are in the employ of Messrs. ffaffp.1 finger & Co.?" 'I have been with the Haffelfingers. fftHor and son, for more Una thirty years." "The father is dead, I believe?" "George Haffelfinger died nine years ago.this month." "I have hoard he was a good man." "I do not believe there was ever abetter." "Is his aim like him?"

Bren_ taPks&jxfc olLGni*a

face. The old mux started, andthen answered coldly: "I do not understand you, sir. You must really excuse me from discussing with a stranger the character of my employers."

Bren said: "I will explain. I happen to know of an occurrence which nearly concerns one of your firm's men. I have repeatedly heard that this Haffelfinger is a hard master. I have been out of place this winter I know what it means. I wish to wrong no man. If possible, I want to save this man trouble. I thought you could tell me how it would stand. I shall ask you only one question more. Shall I go on?" And the old man said, "Go on." "Suppose, then, that it should come out that one of your men, through carelessness or accidental oversight, had committed an error which should involve a loss to your firm say of a hundred dollars —I ask you what would most likely come of it? I do not say this has happened. I say, if it should?"

Gray looked straight into Bren's face and asked: "Does the man kno:v9/' "He does not."

The old faco turned quite pale, and looked at Bren with a pitiful, questioning expression. "Mr. Brennan," he began, "I'm an old man. I served this man's father faithfully the best part of my life. He said the business owed as much to me as to him, I have never been able to save. I havo always seemed to have some sick friend, some loss or misfortune, to keep me down. I don't complain. I suppose it was my own fault. I never had a knack of getting on. I have my wife, my daughter lying sick, and her two little children, dependent on me now. If I should lose my place, 1 do not know what would become of us. I know nothing else 1 am too old to begin onow, and nobody wants a gray head if 1 could. I am not what I was. I cannot help growing old. I call no hard names. I have been degraded and cut down. I have now barely enough to keep along. If this thing should happen to me, I should go into the street."

The old man leaned upon his hand and looked at Bren, waiting for him to speak. Bren got up to go, and stood a moment, ioubting what to say. "Mr. Gray," he said, "what you have said to me I shall sacredly respect. You shall never suffer by it, or by me. Remember, I have made no accusations and named no names."

The old man bowed gravely, and gave 3ren Ills hand. Bren shook it warmly, and came away.

Now he. must decide. Ho had all the facts. They were more serious than ho could have imagined. He walked the streets, up and down, block after block. He would go over tho ground and set the thing in order in his mind. Then he would act as Heaven should give him light. Here was tho case: A thousand people, ten thousand, want knives, bits, saws, chisels, axes. They are scattered over a thousand miles of ground. If each man must go to the makers for his ax or pick, the expense is ruinous. Simply, he cannot go. He cannot combine with many of the rest. They are too far away. Here is a man. with money in his hand who knows all this. Ho cannot go to all these folks but it is all ono as If ne had gono and said: If you people will let mo, I can bring you your hammers and wrenches and pitchforks at a low price, and make a good thing of it myself because I can handle a hundred with little more expense than one. And these peoplo aro only too willing. But ho cannot do it alone. Goods must be bought, and moved, and stored, and packed, and shipped. Complicated accounts must bo kept. The people say: Gotten, twenty, a hundred men to help you. We can afford to pay them all wo are ten thousand strong. It is tho people who pay. Tho money passes into the chief's nands but it comes from these scattered thousands to pay these hundred men who work for tliem-. Tho chief's share is tho greatest, of course his capital is tho power of so many men. But the rest ib not his. If he keeps any part of any man's just duo, ho steals. (So Bren said, and stamped on the stones in his hot way.) Each man has aright to his share, in proportion to the worth of his work to the peoplo he serves. He has a right to demand that he shall not lose his dependence without reason, shall be mercifully treated in weakness and misfortune. Not* one of these widely scattered employers In a thousand would havo it otherwise. But they cannot come and see to it themselves. They must trust it to the chief to see justice dono. His capital gives him so many men's po"aer he is ten or a hundred in one. Here wasjthis man, this Antoine Haffelfinger, using this power like a despot and a barbarian. Here was an old man whom ho had robbed and degraded, and who feared him as he feared cold and hunger for women and little children. In a pressure of work he had delayed an entry through infirmity of age he had forgotten. As a result, $183 of this man's money had fallen into Bren's hands. What should be done? The law and the common morality said: It Is Haffelfinger's the course Is clear. But was the right course so clear? Was this money Haffelfinger's. if truth were told? Ho owed Gray ten times told. His capital, which his father and this old man had jointly made, and the hard times, together gavo him irresistible strength, and he used it like a merciless tyrant. This money in hi3 bands would bo just so much more power of harm. Had he (Bren) the right to give it? The centerbits and pistol properly belong to the burglar: would he be justified in returning them to their owner If he knew they would be used to-night to rob, perhaps murder, a man in bis bed?

Charley had no right to the money. (Bren knew, in his heart, that Traveler would not have touched it more than fire.) What should he do with It, then? Was it not plain that it had been put into his hands to use as he should iudge right? His happiness for life, he felt sure, depended upon Kate. And was not Kate's, too, at stake? He hoped he was not vain or self sufficient but, before heaven, he did honestly believe he was a truer fellow than Brower that be would make her happier in the long run. And this money would help to make a man of him, help him to be himself again- And he would not be greedy he would give old Gray a part.

Continued on Seventh Page,

Our American

Belle*—Our

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American Belle*—

How sweet is the story their beautytella— fb«»* are wise belles, too, for it Is'their wont To use every day their 8OZOD0NT Which sweetens breath and keep* Xo wonder we'reprood of ourAmericanbelle*.

Why ha* Soxodont

Become the staple Dentifrice of Ameri­

ca?

Simply because it is impossible to tue it, even for a week, without perceivinar its byfrienic effect upon tho teetli, thf gumsind the breath.

Breakage is immaterial If you hare SFAVLDLSG'S GLUE

at hand.

fe

1 A

t'"

Don't Experiment.

You cannot afford to waste time in experimenting when your lungs are in danger. Consumption always seems at first, only a cold. Do not permit fany desder to impose upon you with some cheap imitation of Dr. King's New Discovery for Consumption, Coughs and Colds, but be sure you get the genuine. Because he can make more profit ha may tell you he has something just as good, or just the same. Don't be deceived, but insist upon getting Dr. King's New Discovery, which is guaranteed to give relief in all Throat, Lung and Chest, affections. Trial bottles free at Carl Krietenstein's Drufe Store. Largo bottle, $1.00. (6)

A Sound Legal Opinion.

E. Bain bridge Munday, Esq., County Atty, Clay County, Texas, says: "Have ysed Electric Bitters with most happy results. My brother also was very low with Malarial Fever and Jaundice, but was cured by timely use of this medicine Am 8atisifled that Electric Bitters saved my life."

Mr. D. I. Wilcoxson, ot Horse Cave, Ky., adds alike testimony, saying: He positively believes ho would have died, had it not been for Electric Bitters.

This great remedy will ward off, as well as cure all Malaria Diseases, and for all Kidney, Liver and Stomach Disorders stand unequalled. Price 50c aud $1, at Carl Krietenstein, cor. 4th & Ohio.(6)

Bucklea'd Arnica Salve.

The Best Salve in the world for Cuts, Bruises, Sores, Ulcers, Salt Rheum. Fever Sores, Tetter, Chapped Hands, Chilblains, Corns, and all skin eruptions, and positively cures Piles, or no pay required. It is guaranteed to give perfect satisfaction, or money refunded. 25c, per box. For sale by Carl Krietenstein, S.

Cor. 4th and Ohio.

I PAINE'S COMPOUND

W

ACTS AT THE 8AM1 TIME ON

THE NERVES, THE LIVER, THE BOWELS, and the KIDNEYS

This combined action gives it wonderful power to cure all diseases.

Why Are We Sick?

Because we allow the nerves to remain weakened and irritated, and these great organs to become clogged or torpid, and poisonous humors are therefore forced into the blood that should be expelled naturally.

PAINE*$ CELERY

rA,Nt

COMPOUND

WILL CURE BILI0USXEB8,PILES, CONSTIPATION, KIDNEY COMPLAINTS, URINARY DISEA8ES,

FEMALE WEAKNESS,RHEUMATISM. NEURALGIA, AND ALL NERVOUS DISORDERS, By quieting and strengthening the nerves, and causing free action of the liver, bowels, and kidneys, nnd restoring their power to throw off disease. Why suffer Biliou* Pain* and Aches? Why tormented with Pile*, Constipation? Why frightened overDi*ordered Kidneys! Why endure nervous or siok headaches 1 Why have sleepless nights!

U»e PAINK'S CELERY COMPOUND

and

rejoice in health. It is an entirely vegetable remedy, harmless in all cases. Sold by all Druggists. Price

$2.00.

Six for fs.oo.

WELLS, RICHARDSON & CO,.Proprietors, BTOLIHGTOH, VS.

Moore's Pilules

Pilules area most certain and spoedy cure for nil dlKenscH that arise from iMnliuia, ChlllN and Fever, etc. The

net directly In tho blood, permeating the whole of the circulation, killing the germs that produce fever, lorpld liver, con­

stip hem ralg

stipation, kidney troubles, Hick headache, rheumatism, neuralgia,etc. They are a

Positive

antidote for these complaints have never railed for more than 15 years. They act like magic on all malarial

sickness, hence they are the only positive

Cure For Chills

for all Blood Impurities known. They will purify and dense the system, when everything else has failed and as

Also:i

and fever, there is nothing (and never was anything produced, ever,) like them

for their wonderful effects. Many hundreds of thousand* of old stubborn cases have been cured by Moore's I'llulest which all other remedies failed to touch. They area most valuable medicine to have on hand in the family they relieve Indigestion, clear the skin, act on the liver at once—hence there Is no need of the harmful cathartics. They are worth many times their cost to any family. Those who rely on Moore's Pilules are quickly distinguished by their bright appearance, elastic step, and the healthful glow upon their faces

Moore's Throat and Lung Lozenge* are a most excellent emedy,—nothing better-for Coughs. Colds, fore Throat, Bronchitis. Whooping Cough and all affections of the throat and chest. They are pleasant to the taste, and tcive Instant relief. Put up In large 10 cent and 25 cent tin boxes—for Irritation of the throat there is no remedy that begins to compare with them. Both remedies sold by drugglcta.

GRATKFUI.—COMFORTING.

Epps's Cocoa

BRXAKFilST*

"By a thorough knowledge of the natural laws which govern the operations ox digestion and nutrition, and by a careful application of the flue propertW of weiffifectod Cocoa, Mr. Epps has provided our breaitfart tables with a delicately flavored beverage which may save us many heavy doctors1 bills. It is by the Judicious use of suchartides of diet that a constitution may be gradually built up until strong enough to wlrt every tendency to diseaae. Hundreds of subtle maladies are floating around a* ready to attack wherever thereto a weak P^nt. wet may escape many a fatal shaft by keeping ourselves well fortified with pure properly nourished frame."—{Civil Bervlee

Made simply with boiling water or milk Bold only in half pound tins bygrooers, labeled thus: 7ABM KPPS CO-

HouuBopathlc ChemisU, London, Ksg

J* U-*