St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 12, Number 17, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 23 October 1886 — Page 1

VOLUME XII.

“A LOVE-SET.” •Love-set.” sho cried, “six games to none 1” He smiled and seemed no whit dismayed ; Defeat like this was naught to one Who for a sweeter victory played. Then, leaving all the merry throng Os tennis-players on the lawn, Beneath the trees they lingered long, While Love, glad Love, began to dawn. A glance, a pressure of the hand— And, ere the sky had lost its gold, A newer glory filled the land ; The old, old tale of love was told. And then “Love-set,” he whispered low ; “Love-set to me this time, my sweet I” While sho but smiled upon her foe, And seemed to welcome her defeat. FHEIfS SIGN; OM, The King of the Mountain. By ABBIE C. M’KEEVER. CHAPTER XVIIL THE LOST WILL. When the wi^ow beheld the empty box she turned in furious auger toward the Doctor. ' “You villain! what have you doho with ■the will, and how dared you deceive me so ■cruelly?’’ The Doctor had risen to his feet and stood carelessly leaning on the table, a mocking smile oa his d irk, evil face. “I wanted to have plenty of time to get my money all straight and invested in my own name, in some good securities; then, my fair sister, I will bring you the will. But if I remember coirectly, it is the box over Which you have been so anxious.” “The box? You know better; but you must produce that will soon. I am wild with anxiety now. I can not sleep. The loss of my brooch has troubled me, and now you persist in tormenting me as you [do.” “I promise to bring the troublesome will around by the day after to-morrow. In the meantime 1 desire you to remain quietly at home, and to p’ace no spy upon my m>vements. I am getting tired of being watched by your dog of a servant.” ■ “You arc mistaken; I have set no spy upon you!” exclaimed Mrs. Marlin in tones of unmistakable surprise. ‘ Don’t tell me that, when I saw the fellow last night and this morning dogging my steps.” “But, Adolph, as I am a living, breathing woman, I have set no spy upon yon. It must be some one else. Oh, do b • careful! it may be that New York d t 'dive.” “I hardly think so; it was a tall, roushlooking fellow,” said the Doctor, but he appeared a little uneasy over her suggestion. Then he departed aud went to his own room, to determine what investment he should make with the large sum of mmey given him by the widow. . s h ■ sat wri ing at the table some one knocked at hi door. “Come in,” he called, knowing instinctive!y who it was. The door opened, and the man who bad “isited him previously entered, closing the door carefully behind him. “Good evening, bo^s,” he saluted, quietly. “What brings you back so soon? What have you learned'?” “Much. I know where Eick and the jewels are.” “Where?” in anxious, eager tones. “Back in the' mountains, in Wyoming. The boy’s fallen into the hands of a party of bandits or road-agents, who call themselves members of the ‘Mystic Hand.’ ” “How did you learn as much?” “I have a half-breed Indian employed, who brought me the information—a real bright sort of a fellow, boss, and I think it’s likely he’s ot the story straight.” “How did he know’ of Eick or the jewels?” “Why, the boy was captured by the Indians and has been in their power a long time. He’s a sort of a half way doctor, as you know’, boss, and that saved his scalp; until he was finally given up to a party of these road-agents who are taking him to their mountain stronghold.” “Has he given up the jewels?” “Yts, I understood from the half-breed's talk that he had; and was glad enough to leave the Indian camp, where he was treated pretty rough.” “Do you have any idea where this mountain stronghold is?” “Yes, the half-breed said he could lead the way there, and show even the secret entrance.” “He may boa trai or; nevertheless, I wish you would find Rick aud silence him. I would like to have the jewels recovered for our safety, but th y are of no very great importance. If you will bring me positive proof of Eick’s death I will give you live thousand dollars.” “I’ll do my best, boss,” said the fellow, and he depart d as quietly as h ; cam?. “Eick alive and with a p irty of rough Western thieves,” mused Dr. Marling, scowling. “I was always opposed to Corinne employing him, the treacherous young scamp! No tellinz, now. what he will be up to. I had better arrange my business speedily and go rayself to the place where he is. But that will, I must restore to Corinne before I leave.” Then he arose and went to his private desk and unlocked it. A look of blank consternation came over his face, for, to his great amazement, no papers were m the desk. “Why— whcie? Oh. by the powers! have I been robbed? Who has doue it? What will Corinne say?” And the Doctor leaned against the wall, trembling, and endeavoring to realize what had befallen him. “The will gone, means there arc spies around; that Joe Day is on our track; that Lora will be restored to her lost fortune, and Corinne and I sent to prison; for the other papers they have taken will help to prove much against us. What must I dor” . He hurriedly departed toward Mrs. Martin s home, and, greatly to that lady’s surprise, was ushered into her private parlor. “What brings you back so soon? Has anything happened?” “Yes, much.” ‘What?” growing alarmed from his agitated face. “The will has disappeared.” “The will? Oh. Adolph!” ..Yes, it has disappeare d along with some other valuable documents. I have just missed them.” “Who has stolen it? Oh, bow reckless — how mad in you not to have destroyed it *°og ago! \\ hat is to be done now?” I hardly know. I have just learned that ■Kick is in the mountains in Wyoming, with a band of road agents. I think 1 shall go there and perhaps discover the place where the will has been carried. I fear it is the ^ork of Joe Day.” The New York detective! If he has ^covered that, then we are indeed ruined. " I am not certain about the matter; I . ^ ear 804 Get your money and valu--1« a rea ^- f° r instant flight, for they will I proof enough to imprison us. if I misnot. I saw the inside of Sing Sing

G OUNTy St. loSeDb Jnhejenient.

once. I will never live to see it again. But I want to kill Joe Day first, if I am to get into the law’s hands again. I’ll fight desperately. These old mountains are line hiding places, and we’ll try and elude them if the worst comes to the worst.” “Had I not better return to San Francisco?” “No; remain where you are. I will send you a first-class detective to warn you of danger. Only keep your money and jewels ready to your hand. There may be a chance of coming out ahead.” But when he was gone the widow sent for her old, faithful servant, and told him all. “I shall follow this time, I won’t be left behind. I cannot breathe in this place. That black-eyed witch has had something to do with it. Go and procure two of the finest saddle-horses in the city, and you and I wiil follow to the robbers’ stronghold where Adolph goes. Who knows, the captain may be an old friend.” “Yes, Miss Corinne. I will obey. The horses shall be ready in one hour.

CHAPTER XIX. LUKE DISCOVERS AN OLD FRIEND. The little party in the mount ain nook had not long to wait until a low growl at the entrance greeted their terrified senses. Then almost instantly a bright light flashed in that direction, aud revealed a huge mountain bear. The light vat from the dark lantern which the girl always carried, and had lit and thrown its direct rays on the spot from whence the growl proceeded. Scarcely had the light fallen upon the huge creature, quite blinding it, when there was a flash, a loud r port, and the bear fell dead in the doorway of the little cavern. "Thi re’s yer br. aki’ad, youngsters!” said a strang? voice, as old Luke himself stepp d forth and gave the dead bear a kick; then turned around smiling toward his astonished auditors. “Luke,” cried Jasper, coming forth with outstretched hands. “Luke, old friend, is it really y, a?” “Yes it’s te, I calculate. I been on yer track quite a while ’fore I got a chance ter speak ter yer. Got caught by ‘Black Jack,’ an I then by the Indians, and yer camo out mighty well to get off with yer scalp on.” “You are right. I'll not be anxious for any more such adventures. I’m sick of them.” Luke chuckled, but just then he saw the mysterious Indian girl approaching him. She had placed her lantern on the rocky floor, and was regarding him with eager, smiling eyes. “Luke! is it Luke Summers, the famous scout'?’’ “Luke Summers it be, ’an no mistake,” said the old scout, regarding her keenly. Then, much to his surpris ■ the girl drew nearer, seized his rugged hand with both her own, and raised it to her lips and ki.-sed it. ‘ Luke, dear old Lu>ke, don't you know me'?” “No, bless me es I do!” “Don't remember the little girl you searched so long for, and that you found at last in the Indian village, and carried back to her father? Don t remember little Lora Martin?” “Wail, I swan!” said Luke, “es it ain't I,ora Martin fur a fact. But, bless my eyes, pet, bow'd yer expect me ter know you rigged up like this, an’ away back hero among road agents and Indians'? I thought yer lived in New York." “I did awhile, but for certain reasons I came back to my Indian friends. Here is Bunning Deer, my kind foster-brother; but I’m not in league with any road agents or robbers.”

“Yer hain’t,” said Luke, a little incredulously. “No; let me turn the light away from the entrance, and all of you sit down and hear , my true story. I fancy the Cattle King is also a little curious.” “I am, indeed,” smiled Jasper. “Papa and I lived out West when I was quite young; there one day near our mining town, while at play, I was carried off by a party of Indians, and I lived with them a long time before dear papa and kind old Luke rescued me. I learned their language, much of their life and ways. The mountain cavern where Black Jack holds forth was of old our Indian winter quarters; that is how I became so familiar with all its secret ways, and was enabled to lead you forth,” she said, addressing Jasper. “I have nothing in common with the ! cruel Black Jack. I ventured into the cave simply^ to rescue the Cattle King. I wear the sign of the Mystic Hand onl.v for protection. I have a friend, a detective from New York, who has joined the bandits for the purpose of unearthing a crime, and also because he desires to capture the band.” “A New York detective?” mused Luke. “How’d he come out here?” Then Lora began at the time of her father’s death, and told them all the reader already knows, adding: “Joe Day has repeatedly urged me to leave this dangerous country, and trust all to him, but I knew that I was far safer even here than he was, and so have been enabled to assist him, and to help the Cattle King escape—for, now that old Luke has joined us, I have little fear but we will reach Blue Gulch in safety.” Two days after, within a short distance of Blu? GuL h, Running Deer bade them farewell, and gazed tearfully after thmr retreating forms. 'Then he turned Lis steps toward his native village, where pretty Wenona was anxiously awaiting his coming. Having reached the to.wn, Lora sought her room in the hotel, and, washing off the dark paint and removing her black wig, donned her own modest evening dress and appeared at the supper table the same little lady that the guests were accustomed The Cattle King had been welcomed by a host of friends, all glad to grasp his band and to learn of his escape from the Indians and robbers. “There’s a fellow round here, in fact, there are three or four, who are getting out a 1 t of vigilants to capture Black Jack i this very night,” whispered a friend in Jasper's ear. “There are too many’ road agents. I fear thev can not succeed.” “But there’s a powerful lot o’ vigilants, I bear, and they say this fellow knows the wav into the secret cave.” A little later Jasper felt some one touch his arm, and he glanced around. A bright-eyed, fine-looking man stood by his side. “I beg your pardon,” he said, 'but are you Miss Lora Martin’s friend, the one she helped away from the Indians?” “Yes, I am that person.” “Then follow me, please.” Jasper obeyed. He found the stranger merely meant to condu t him to Lora s parlor. She smiled a pleasant welcome as they entered. “Mr. James,” she said, “this is one of my truest friends; his name is Joe Day, and his home is in New York. He is a detective; he desires to capture Black Jack and as many 7 of bis men as possible. But there is a captive in the secret stronghold I do not wish harmed, one whose evidence will do^ much to bring my cruel stepmother to 1 iustice. He desires your assistance, and as xou are pretty familiar with the place, you will be a valuable assistant. Luke is among the number, and can be trusted in any undertaking. ” . , , “I have learned, Miss Lora, said the de-

WALKERTON, ST. JOSEPH COUNTY, INDIANA, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 23,1886

tective, “that which will surprise you greatly. Your stepmother and her brother are already near us; they are both in Black Jack’s power.” “Impossible!” “No, it is quite true; one of my men just brought me the word. It appears that the Doctor was on the lookout for Bick and fell into their hands, and yom - step-mother, growing alarmed, set out to follow the Doctor; she had just overtaken him when they were captured by some scouting bandits.” “What is to be done?” “I will endeavor to arrest the ringleaders of the band, and your enemies as well, but we are likely to have great trouble, for they will fight like tigers." CHAPTER XX. .ill’s well that ends well. The Jong night passed away. To Lora it seemed interminable. Sometimes sho resolved to don her old Indian dress and join the friends who were fighting for her; but she had given her word to the detective to remain in safety, and she had to content herself in looking out toward the towering mountain and the twinkling stars overhead. As dawn was breaking over the eastern ridge a crowd of men passed up the street. She could not distinguish any of them, and waited with beating heart for some intelligence. At last her eager ears heard a tap on her door, with winged feet she flew and opened it. and found only old Luke standing there smiling before her. “Come in, Luke, dear old friend, come in, and tell me what has happened.” “Oh, nothin’ much,” said Luke, setting bis gnu in a corner and taking the edge of a chair she had olleri d. “Nothin’, ’cept it’s all over The robbers’ den’s broken up; lo's o’ plunder an' money discovered; all them ere relations o' yonr'n are got sle.l bracelets on—'cept the woman, she’s panned out.” “Panned out!" cried Lora, turning pale. “Yes; took a dose o’ her own medicine without any o’ us suspectin’ it, an she’s dead as a door nail, down tharat the undertaker’s. “Ob, how dreadful!” “Yes, party bad; an sh? sich a handsome critter, too. Butthat there pesky Doctor's all right; he an’ his pal, ye call Ri k. Your New York detective is a brick; didn’t know they had sich men as him back East. But he had to turn over old Black Jack to the vigilants.” "Dii.l you capture Black Jack?” “ Yes, an' a dozen o'his men. I calculate that ends the robbers’ nest in these p uts.” “And the vigilants -” “Never min L pet; th vigilants wont do them any greater harm than tin ? ve done hundreds o’ innocent pei>o:s leave them in the vigilants' hands an’ don't fr t.” But, n 'verthi h ss, Lora covered her eyes with her hands and shuddered, for she well knew their hours on earth were numbered. “Here comes your New York man, an' Jasper; they’ve soeun d their prisoners, an’ are eonrn’ here.” “I called to say good-by,” said Jasper, “for Mr. Day informs me you are to start for New York at once. I hope to meet you again some time.” Noone who heard the tender intonation be gave hi- far w s 11 woids doubted I nt that he would see her some tme that h • would m ike it a point to s < h r. “I have teh gin; lied to Denver for yon’ friend Miss Scott and her father to meet us at St. Louis,” said Joe Day; “you must try to be ready to start by to-morrow morning. I learn my other New York boys have caught three pals of the sly Doctor’s, ami we’re all axions to retain with our gam.'; they are parties who have been long wanted in New York.

“Let me congratulate you, Miss Lora, your father’s fortune is all your own now.” “And you shall all be rewarded as you j deserve,” she cried gratefully. Lora Martin was once more queen of her old home, and Tess Scott was still her guest. Detective Joe Day, richer by a ten-thousand-dqHijr check, still was a frequei ' ' but Lora shook her head at her i tend over his frequent calls. “It Tess, h )’s trying to capture . now. mk he lost his he irt when first be sa you, an I taught you those old 1 secret signals. You 11 take up your residenc? near me, after all, and daily'll have to bling his cattle East.” “Poor daddy,” sigh d Tess; “he 11 I never be happy long away from either his ranch or me. I think it would be easier । to move the detective out West. And from the num rous letters you re eive I shouldn't be surprised but you'll move i there yourself, L' ri.” Lora blushed, an i just then the maid brought in a card that bore the ra ne of “Jasper James.” “My r prophecy nrars its completion,” said Tess. “I knew he’d come before long, and I’m growing hume-sick for daddy!” [THE END.] Autumn Costumes. Dainty flowered d laine is the chief material used for a reception toile 4 , vhich is trimmed wish lace and embroidery. The overskirt is divided widely in front, over the lower one, and is bordered wi h a wide margin of cream-colored lice, insil? of which runs an inner edging of embroidery, laid upon the delaine. The bodice is made with revers of garnet velvet, whb h form the I order to a plaited chemi ette, and which combine below, in the form of a pointed plastron. It is made with elbow sleeves, which, instead of the flowing lace border usual with short sleeves, end with plain bands of embroidery. This embroidery also forms the trimming of the underskirt, being laiel on in cross strips all the way down. For such ladies as enjoy a week or so of early autumn in the country, the following costume is appropriate: 'The basque, which, as well as the rest of the dress, is of flowered challi. has a gathered plastron of figured silk, bordered on either side with surplice revers of lace. The overdrapery is full, and gracefully draped, reaching ! half the length of the skirt on the leftside, but extending the full length on the right. I Just where the back drapery joins it, at the sides, huge kno s of sa’i i ribbon are placed. The underskirt is of the same material, but has two deep flounces, trimmed with lace. A tall-crowned straw hat, with a sinq l? knot of ribbon as garniture, and a jaunty little parasol, with a wide border of lace, form the accomi animents, and the hands are covered with brown, undressed kid-gloves, in gauntlet shape. Plush is now made for (rimmingbonnets, in imitation of the skins of various wild animals. 'This kind of plush is styled peau de beta. Golden-brown yak lace, lined with surah in various shades, as yellow, poppy-red, and dark blue, is shown in some of the prettiest man l- sos the season. The mantle is made with stole fronts, but very short over the hips, and the collar is upright, and covered with bronze beads. In some models the entire front anti back of the mantel are covered with passementerie. Matinees or morning gowns are in polonais ■ or redingote shape. 'They are of French cashmere, in neutral or soft tints, and are prettily trimmed with oriental borderings in divers colors. They are quite long, are ornamented with plastrons of striped silk or surah, and have velvet sashes around the waist.

ONE LITE TAKEN, Pinkerton’s Men Shoot from a Train and Terence Begley Falls a Victim. Arrest of the Guards—S x Men Held to Await the Coroner’s Action. The Jeering and Stone-Throwing of a Mob—Comment and Oj inion. [Chicago special.] When it was announced that the strike was over the big packers went out to purchase hogs. ArmoU'”* Co. bought 2,000, and the market went up twenty-five cents per 100 pounds. The fact that the old men were to be taken be- k sent consternation to the hearts of the impprted men, and they concluded that they had better tender their resignations. Mr. Cudahy, of Armour’s house, asked the men to remain, and head clerk Somers told them that if they remembered their numbers they could at anytime secure employment at Armour's. No inducement could be given the men to stay. 'They flatly refused, and finally a train was sent for to take them to the city. One hundred and sixty Pinkerton men, under the command of ('apt. Frank Joy, were detailed to escort the men. They occupied the three rear coaches of the train. At the Stock Yards Y, at Thirty-ninth street, the train was blocked for a moment by a freight train. Another detachment of guards was taken on board at this point, and the train again started for the city. A crowd of about two hundred men and boys, who had been detained by passing trains, were gathered at the south sid" of the crossing. They broke out into a chorus of jeers and cat-calls, but it is claimed by wits^sses that no demonstration of actual violence was made. On the other hand, it is charged that they bombnrded the train with rocks, and that somebody in the crowd fired a pistol. However this may be, the bain had scarcely passed Halsted street crossing when a man on the rear platform fired a revolver into the crowd. The Pinkerton men in the roar followed with a regular volley of shots out of the windows of the train, aimed at the crowd, and Terence Br gh y. a well-known citizen of Lake, was mortally wounded. The Pinkerton men, as eye-witnesses say, fired in every direction, and did not eease the fusillade until Wallace street, three blocks distant from Halsted street, was reached. Terence Begley, the fatally injured man, was lending his horse slowly westward on Halsted street when the shot was tired. He dropped the bridle and exelaimed: “I am shot!” A brakeman nam-‘1 Russell helped the wounded man to a sa. >hi ner.r Ly, where a hasty exuimnntion vas made. The wound was not discove red, e: t Begley was told that ho was only frig’ '• ..<l. In a dazed manner he started tow rd I lanuigun's packinghouse. B ■ had tak n but ■ f-w stej>s when he »;„udenly fell to th ground. A wagon was procured and he was taken to his home, 4211 l.memld av. nue, where a thorough examination showed that the bullet had passed through the ab lone n, entering at the right side ami coming out on the left side, glancing upward. Late in the night the unfortunate man died. Previously his ante-mortem statement was taken. It is as follows:

“Mv name is Terence Begley. I am 41 years old. I think I cannot live, and make this as my dying statement as to how I received the shot this 19th day of Octob -r, 1886. At about 12 o’clock I was going with a cripple cart containing one hog to Shoenemans slaughterhouse, near Fortieth and Halsted streets, in the Town of Lake, county of Cook, and State of Illinois. I had passed the Lake Shore and Michigan Southern crossing, and was going north and was near Mr. M. Schmidt’s saloon on Halsted street, and was leading my horse by the head. Immediate!}’ after passing the crossing a passenger train of the Lake Shore and Michigan Southern Railroad came from the Stock Yards east filled with Pinkerton policemen. As they passed this crossing, where a large crowd had congregated, cries of ‘Scabs’ were heard from the crowd. As the rear end of the train passed the east side of Halsted street four or five or six shots were fired. I saw quite a number of Pinkerton men standing on the rear platform of the train. I saw no one shoot, but heard the shots and felt that I was shot, and left my horse and ran to Shoeneman’s slaughter-house and sat down and told Pat Martin, a police officer of the Town of Lake, that I was shot. lat no time made any outcry or allusion to the Pinkerton men, and had nothing whatever to do with the crowd at the crossing, but attended strictly to my own business.” Begley was too weak to sign his name, but touched the pen, aud his mark was made. The witnesses were J. P. Mulcahey, Sergeant of Police; Frank Becker, and William Ryan. Immediately after the shooting the greatest excitement prevailed, and had Capt. Markey, of the Town of Lake Police, stopped the train, as was suggested, general riot and bloodshed would have been inevitable. The Captain let the train pass, and telephoned to the Twenty-second Street Police Station. From this place and from the Armory squads of officers were immediately dispatched to the scene. Excited groups of people assembled on every corner and expressed by word and action the deepest indignation. There were no violent demonstrations, but the word went around that if the Pinkerton men who did the shooting were brought back and lodged in the town jail there would be trouble before morning. The train was met at Hanison street by the city police, and 123 Pinkerton men and about sixty men and boys who had left employment in the stock yards were marched to (he Armory. The workmen, being unarmed, were at once discharged. The Pinkerton men then arranged themselves in lines, and three small boys from Lake, John Boland, Timothy Neiland, and B. Hickey, who claimed to have seen the shooting, were told to identify the men who had fired. The lads, after some hesitation, picked out of the crowd Joseph Hill and Walter Andrews, both young men. After the identification of the two the Pinkerton men were marched into the police court-room, where each man’s rifle or pistol was examined. Only’ one weapon that showed evidence of having recently been discharged was found. An empty shell was found in the Winchester carried by Emmons Shaw. After the examinaton William A. Pinkerton stepped forward, calling out: '‘All who fired shots from the cars stand up like men. There’s nothing to be frightened about.” One young man rose and went to Mr. Pinkerton. His name was Robert J. Bai tram. “There must be more,” said Mr. Pinkerton, “for about twelve shots were fired.” Two beardless young fellows who were silting together, Richard D. Labes and Guy Stivers, then went forward. The six men were locked up, and will be held pending

judicial inquiry. Hill and Andrews, ■whom the boys claimed to have identified, did not admit having done any shooting. The other Pinkerton men were released. The Local ITess. Chicago Daily News: Yesterday’s occurrences should be the. death-knell of the employment of armed men by any but the lawfully constituted authorities. Until these have demonstrated their inadequacy to protect property and preserve the peace, no private citizen, nor any number of such, may usurp their functions. That way lies civil warfare and the reign of the mob. In ter Ocean: The action of the Pinkerton police, shooting into a crowd of people, appears to have been wholly unjustifiable. Unless circumstances more palliating than any yet brought out can bo shown, the men who participated in the dastardly deed ought to receive the full punishment allotted to such crimes by th? law’. It is very unfortunate that just when the labor troubles were being amicably adjusted, a few bad men, intrusted with guns and t niporaryauthority,should, by an act bothfeolish and criminal, stir up auew the spirit of resentment. In such times only cool-headed men should be intrusted either with authority or fire-arms, as action such as that yesterday not only incites t!:e people against the guardians of the peace, but tends to bring them into contempt. Mr. Pinkerton’s future usefulness will be lessened by yestcrday’s occurrence.

REVIEWING THE STRIKE. A Short History of It- Causes and a Comparison with I'oriner Strikes. [From tlie Chicago Daily News.] Regarding the gr at stock yards strike which has just terminated, a short revi of its history and the causes which led to it may not prove uniuteres ing. because it occupies a peculiar position in the history of gretr labor troubles. It may be said to be the first occasion on which a large body of organized men retread I in good order, with ranks unbroken. in this respect it is entirely ditl rent from its great predecessor of 187 ■ 80. In th ' early months of 1870 a number of men met and organized the Butch rs’ Union. Previous to the or.; nization of this union there had b; > n no combined action । n the part of the men employed in the packing industry. This union was a success from the start. It rapidly drew into its circles the large majority of the 10,000 men employed in the yards, (’ontiding in its str ngth. the union d mmd d and obtained from the p ickers an increase of 25 cents a day. This was in Aunust. Die union grew in power an 1 began to arrogate to itself supteme control of the whol packing industry. Jack Hart, a butcher in t' o employ of Armour, was asked to join (he union and refused. Sev- < ral others de< lined to join, ami the union demnnde I ttieir discharge, laving down the rule that non-union men should not wrk with union mon. Die packers culled a halt, and refused to accede to a demand they considered t! igrantly unjust. They hid foreseen trouble, and ha I perfected an organization similar to the one now existing. Dies resolved not to iccognize the union as a body, and prep ired for the strike which was inevitable. Die men struck on In • ml. r 18, L J.t. No body of men were ever more confident of success. I he same arguments and stat'-ments were l; ide lc> both sides as wore advanced m the lust strike. The men claimed that th* y were in dispensable, and that it was impossible to till their places. Die packers claimed th it they’ were paying bigger wagi s than any others in th > country. They called attention to the advantages of Western packing points, and threatened to move their business to these, the natural locations of the packing industry. The newspapers deplored the situation, aad predicted the decadence of Chicago as a packing center.

The fight was a long and bitter one. The | men exhausted all the weapons used ill ; former strikes and invented new ones. As j fast as experts were obtained they were induced to quit, the union paying them their wages in full. The packers advertised all over the country for help, and him Ireds of green hands poured in from al; directions. They were put to work as fast as they applied. All the packers were not involved in the struggle, several of the smaller firms acceding to the demand of the union. 'l’he following firms were directly interested: Armour & Co., Ricker Provision Company, Fowler Brothers, Chapin A Cudahy, Allerton Packing Company, Jones & Stiles, and Baldwin. The Butchers’ Union was rapidly becoming demoralized. Tin i> funds vanished, and the families of the strikers were in want of food. One by one they’ joined the ranks of the so-called “scabs,” a word which had just entered the vocabulary of labor nomenclature. As the cause waned, the remnant of the strikers grew more desperate. Assaults and overt acts increased. Several men were shot at; others were stabbed and cut. The whole town of Lake was permeated with lawlessnes. Meanwhile the packers were having things all their own way. House after house joined the nonunion movement. The strikers who returned vere requested to sign an obligation binding themselves to join no society’ inimical to the interests of the packers. The union was on the point of dissolution. On Jan. 14, 1880, the great strike made its last desperate struggle and expired, and with it the Butchers’ Union, which gave it birth The rush to secure positions became a stampede. On that day thousands made application for work. Many were refused. Infuriated by a sense of overwhelming defeat, and maddened by’ rage and hunger, they made an onslaught on the houses. Armed with clubs and “gam-slicks,” they forced their way into th? houses, their ranks swelled by hundreds of thugs and roughs. The men in the houses fled for their lives. Many were beaten, some severly, and for a day the mob reigned. It was the last of the strike. Order was soon secured and maintained. Hundreds of the strikers never regained those situations they imperiled when they struck. The strikers lost $350,000 in wages, besides their time. They gained an experience, however, which may’ have been worth the price paid. No local organization ever superseded the Butchers’ Union. 'Die Knights of Labor obtained a footing in the stock yards, and to-day include fully 23,000 stockyard employes. The eight-hour day was carried last spring, .after a nominal strike last ng but two days. The Coopers’ Assembly of the Knights of Labor appointed a committ e, which waited on the packers. Mr. Kent offered ten hours’ pay for nine hours’ work, or nine hours’ pay for eight hours’ work. The men accepted the latter proposition. The same day the men throughout the yards struck for ten hours’ pay for eight hours’ work. The second day of the strike the superintendent of G. W. Swift, by a misapprehension, it is claimed, put up a notice granting the demand. The news spread through the yards, aud before night the same surrender was made by nearly every house in Packingtown. Kent soon gave the same terms and the strike came to a sj eedy and bloodless termination. The eight-hour system has been in operation since, and the packers claim that for them it has proven a failure. All offers made by them to the employes for a compromise having failed, they decided to return to the ten-hour day, and the strike now terminated is the result.

PEACE DECLARED. Strikers Make an Unconditional Surrender and Resume Work. The Ten-Hour Scale AcceptedImported Men to Be Protected. [Chicago telegram.] The great strike at the Union Stock Yards has been won and lost—won by the packers, without a break in their lines, and lost by the 17,000 men who, under the banner of the Knights of Labor, left their benches, vats, and killing-pens twelve days ago. “Delegate Barry came into the office and declared the strike off without any’ condition.” This was the information furnished by a gentleman connected with Mr. Armour's firm, who was asked concerning the interview’ between Delegate Barry and Mr. Armour late yesterday afternoon. The men have surrendered unconditionally, and the packers are determined to stand by such of the imported men as choose to remain. At a secret meeting of all the packers, held at the Board of Trade, it was determined to adhere firmly to the ten-hour working day, and resolutions to that effect were adopted. Those of the men applying for work will be given positions regardless of whether they belonged to the strikers or not. Concerning the imported men the following will be posted at all the houses to-day: “NOTICE. “Any one in the employ of the undersigned who may be called ‘scab,’ misused, or otherwise intimidated by any one in our employ is requested to report the same promptly to the proprietors of the house, and they’ agree to promptly discharge any one so offending.” This will be signed by every packing firm. At the meeting referred to the following scale of ] rices for the various branches of work was adopted: Scalders [email protected] Scrapers 3.25 Shavers 3.i 0 Mess-perk trimmers 2.25 Mess-pork choppers 3.00 Trinnners [email protected] Cellar men 1.75i<'2.25 Tank men 1.75(«>2.25 Coopers 3.05

While all this was going on up-town, and previous to the interview between Mr. Barry and Mr. Armour, a secret meeting was held at the Germania Turner Hall, at which fully 1,800 Knights of Labor were present. The meeting had been called by Delegate Bairy, who at the meeting of last Saturday had been given full power to act for the men. As the latter assembled yesterday afternoon it was evident that a surrender was expected. Mast r Workman F. M. Butler presided, and Mr. Barry addressed the meeting at greet length. He said: “This is no pleasant task for me. The move we are about to make is an inevitable one if we wish to preserve the organization which it has taken years to form. An honorable retreat is better than a complete defeat. The packers have us at a disadvantage. They have the hungry army of two million idle men to draw from, and, believing that they have the right side of this dispute, they do not hesitate to take this terrible advantage. Morover, we are not fuHv supported by the official sentiment of the Knights of Labor. We are confronted bj’ the recently published circular of General Master Workman Powderly, in which he says the time for the introduction of the eight-hour day has not yet arriv. d. There is organization yet to be accomplished before we can march on to certain victory. I believe firmly in the eight-hour day—yes, I believe that the future working daj- will not exceed four l ours. There is work, and hard, systematic w o k, to be done before that time comes. You are not prepared for a long strike, and any one can see that it would take months to win this fight, if it was ever won. Many cf you are penniless to-day, and there would be hungry wives and children in your families before another week passed by. For months many have not been working to exceed three days a week, and no man can lax- up money on that system. The wise thing to do is to make an honorable retreat. In a short time you will all be at work. A ‘scab’ is not fond of good company. [A voice: ‘We will throw them out.’] No, that is not the proper thing to do. They will soon disappear. The bosses do not want inefficient men. By returning peaceablj’ to work x on will prove to the world that you are true Knights of Labor. A Knight of Labor does nothing dishonorable when he obeys the command of his superior officer. ” Mr. Barry then read a formal order directing the men to resume work on the basis of ten hours a day, folloxved bj’ another directing the beef-men to present themselves for employment on the basis of eight hours for a day’s work. There xvere a few who considered the orders premature, claiming that the defeat was not complete and a fighting chance still remained. The chairman called for a rising vote on the motion that a vote of confidence be extended to Mr. Barry and the committee having the strike in charge, and that the order as read be obeyed. The motion xvas carried without a dissenting vote.

The men seemed glad that the strike xvas ended. An occasional protest xvas heard, but the kicker xvas soon quieted. Among the merchants on Halsted street and the other business thoroughfares there xvas but one feeling—that of satisfaction. There xvere a few stormy incidents in Packingtown, in which the Pinkerton men played an important and generally a disa tious part. The full force had been placed on duty early in the morning. The men were’inarched in squads to all parts of the yards, each man being assigned a certain regular beat. No one xvas admitted to the yard unless be could satisfy the sentry that he had legitimate business there. Manx- of the strikers managed, however, to gain entrance, and in several cases serious collisions between them and the guards xvere imminent. Mrs. Leland Stanford has established a night school for the jockeys and stable boys employed in her husbaud’s stables. Michael Davitt is to reach B oston on Christmas Eve. and is to be honored with a public reception. Mr. and Mks. Mackay never write letters to each other. They use the telegraph aud the cable altogether. The Sultan of Morocco is fond of tricycling, but too lazy to work the pedals himself. It is said that the will of the l ite Vice President Hendricks is to be contested by some of his relatives. The Crown Prince of Germany sells 1,630 quarts of milk every day from his farm at Panetz, near Berlin.

NUMBER 17.

HUNGRY AND PENNILESS. The Survivors from the Great Flood in the Johnson Bayou District Appeal for Aid. Two Hundred and Fifty Persons Believed to Have Perished in That Locality. [Beaumont (Texas) special.] Refugees from the flooded district about Sabine Pass continue to arrive on every small craft that comes up the river. It is estimated by persons here who have been over the scenes of devastation at Sabine Pass, Johnson’s Bayou, and Taylor’s Bayou that the death-list will exceed 250 souls. Eighty-five corpses have been recovered and buried around Johnson’s Bayou, and fifty-four bodies thus far have been buried at Sabine, while sixty-six persons are still missing at Sabine, and these are, of course, dead, as it would be impossible for any human being to survive thus long in the swamp and lagoons Without food or shelter. An examination of the country back of Sabine and immediately in the vicinity of Beaumont shows that the salt water came back from the coast fully forty miles through the swamps, and hundreds of thousands of acres are still submerged by water that was forced back and has no outlet. This fact makes the search for bodies very difficult. Carcasses of thousands of drowned cattle, hogs, horses, and fowl are strewn everywhere, and clouds of sea gulls and buzzards hover over the desolate country for an area of thirty square railed. It is know n that the number of sufferers around Johnson's Bayou, who have lost everything, will reach 1.200, while the Sabine sufferers number 300, one half of whom are now in Beaumont. Parties who returned to-day from the Johnson Bayou district say that sixty persons are still missing there, and the searching parties have almost reached the conclusion that many of these missing were drowned and their bodies carried out sea bj’ the receding waves. A correspondent who has just returned from Sabine Pass telegraphs from Orange that the turkey-buzzards are soaring over Sabine for miles around on land and water. It is one vast charnel-house. The town is swept out of existence. What was a prosperous village when last Tuesday dawned is now the center of wreck and desol a’ion. There are 127 persons missing and supposed to be dead. Only about twenty-five bodies have thus far been recovered. There is not one sound house in the town of Sabine. The residences of Dr. Gailland and Editor McClanahan are the onl.v ones that can be repaired. Every oth. r house is an absolute wreck. This, in brief, is the storj’ of (he storm. Innumerable touching, heartrending incidents of the storm are related by the survivors. One house containing fourteen colored persons was seen to go down with a crash, and every one of them was lost. Incidents’are related of husbands lashing wives and children to floating wrecks and then seeing them killed by heavy logs being driven against them. The damage to property can only be estimated by the value of the town, for all is lost. The Sabine and East Texas Railroad track is washed out for a distance of ten miles. The trees have floated off, and the rails are twisted like wires, the effect of the great hurricane. Millions of dead fish were cast up by the waves, and thousands of birds also strew the ground. A woman in a perfectly nude state was found roaming around on the prairie yesterday, five miles from Sabine. She was demented, and.could not tell her name. When the Government boat Penrose reached there Columbus Martie was found rowing around the delta looking for the bodies of his family. He said: “Alyself, wife, and three children were clinging to a floating roof which was gradually breaking to pieces. One of the little ones dropped off and then another. I was bolding the youngest, and soon my wife said, ‘Goodby, husband; I am going.’ I could not reach her. The piece of the roof supporting her broke off and she sank before my eyes. I held onto the youngest child, named Pearl, some time longer. The child, addressing me, said: ‘Papa, Im tired; wont you walk with me?’ The piece of the roof I was on now was crumbling to pieces. I told the little one to kiss me. She put both her little arms around my neck, gave me a big squeeze, and just then a wave dashed us off, and I saw her no more. Great God! Whj’ didn’t I go down, too?" He was pressed to go on board the Penrose, kut refused, saying: “Here among these lagoons are the bodies of mj’ wife and children, and here will I stop until I can find them.” No tongue can tell hew the people have suffered during the past few days. In many cases the dead ones are considered 'the lucky ones.

Is It Yellow Fever ’ [New Orleans telegram.] The State Board of Health, having received information of the prevalence of fever at Biloxi, Miss., eighty miles distant, and the death there of a number of persons, held a special meeting to consider the matter. Statements before the Board showed that an itinerant mechanic named Sumpter, who came from Biloxi, died at Mississippi City. The physician pronounced Sumpters disease bilious tevei, but one of the nurses said he vomited “black stuff.” Dr. Walker made the alarming statement as coming from people from Biloxi that nearly every family there has cases of fever. He was told that in all there existed up to last night 270 cases; that for the last two weeks people were being buried quietly at night, and that in the daytime the bodies were laid away surreptitiously. Mr. Charles Marshall, superintendent of the Louisville and Nashville Railroad, said he was told that Dr. Lemon had pronounced the cause of his wife’s death at Biloxi to be yellow fever. Mr. Marshall had received a telegram from the station agent which bore the information that there were thirty or forty cases at Biloxi, and that Drs. Lemon and'Maybine had advised about the nature of the fever, Dr. Lemon adhering to the belief that it was unquestionably yellow fever. The board thereupon issued a notice to the officials of Biloxi declaring a strict quarantine against it. Lnderhof and Herren Chiem-See, the castles of the late King of Bavaria, have been opened to visitors, and the gate money amounts to $2,000 each week. J. B. Wells, of Red Bluff, Cal., cut down a sound oak, and four feet from the butt, in a little cavity in the heart of the tree, were five small and healthy frogs. Col. J. B. Batchelder is the recipient of an odd gift from Massachusetts veterans—a cannon made of shot and shell gathered on Gettysburg battle-ground. Miss Fannie Hayes, daughter of the ox-President, will next spring complete her school course in Connecticut. Work has been begun on the permanent monument over the tomb of ictor Emmanuel, in the Pantheon at Rome.