The Syracuse Journal, Volume 3, Number 11, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 21 July 1910 — Page 6

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0 FAR as things political go, Pat O’Brien owns the town. So far Ai 1 as the railroad goes, and that is to the jumping-off place in the Pacific ocean, Joe Dale owns the railroad. Dale’s railroad moves and has a large part of its being in O’Brien’s town. Soon or late j (?IPC jP\ these two men were sure to war / 3 tor supremacy in the town, and L Xflir 7 this is the story of how it happened. The people the town • 1 and the stockholders of the railroad don’t come into the story at all. They only furnished the sinews of war, which fact is abun- ' slant pjroof that the story is true. Pat; O'Brien’s town calls him the cardinal, In a monient of angry defeat, a silk-stockinged enemy, too polite to liken Pat to the devil, sourly dubbed him a second Cardinal Richelieu. The name tickled the town’s fancy, and it stuck. The cardinal didn’t mind. He was too busy j to cavil at mere names. His business as a stock- J broker grew with the town, he had for customers ! men like John, the son'and henchman of Joe Dale, and when John bought and sold stocks it • was to be supposed that the cardinal profited through inside knowledge... Other business friends were powerful and their friendship financially was worth/ while. Colonel Legarde, whtf controls the Superior railroad, is also president of the Interstate Electric railway, an electric road, with terminals and local lines in the The electric rbad needed many political favors and the cardinal obtained them for it, or for his friend Colonfel Legarde. Really there was no other way to get anything. Unless and until Pat nodded his head there was nothing doing, for the town council fed out of his hand and state legislators followed out his orders. Pat O’Brien waxed rich. But one generation away from the “ould sod” his clothes spelled American' business man, but his neckties faded the solar spectrum to a neutral tint, and marked the politician who bought and sold franchises and dealt out jobs at will. Knowing the times to talk and to keep silence, a loyal friend and a deadly enemy, he made money for his stock-dabbling customers, serenely grafting his political as the surest - means to a desired end, and Xwas wortlj a million and a half, at least. He owned the town. As John Dale's business of owning the railroad grew greater and more complex, he was more and more away from Lacedaemon —for that is better Greek than the real name of the town, anyhow—it became necessary for him to ask favors of the cardinal, and the favors were given with open hands. Dale found it ffecessary, too, to have a daily; local organ and a voice wherewith to fool the people. He bought the Daily Planet Publishing Company, and made Pat O’Brien president. Dale; regarded the presidency a reward for favors received and a final binding of the town boss to his chariot tail. The cardinal knew that Pollock, the editor, received all his orders from Dale; and regarded the presidency as something of a jjoke. Grown to full stature among the other railrload kings, ruling had become a habit with Joe ’Dale. He made and unmade towns and the people in them at will, and expected no other interest than Joe Dale’s to be thought of, or moved in, or lived for by any one connected with him. Sometimes he mistook his man, as when one , day she went into the office of one of his eminent and well-paid legal aids and found the lawyer deatji to the outside world and Joe Dale’s business in a volume of Balzac. The railroad king blew up. "I don’t pay you to rea4 dum French novels,” he roared. The lawyer looked at him a long moment. “Mr. Dale,” he finally said, “You pay me for whajt 1 know, not what I do. I’ll read dum French novels” —crescendo—“or do any other dum thing” —forto- —“any dum time or any dum place”—fortissimo —“I dum please!” ending with a Wagnerian bang on the table. Whereupon Joe Dale changed the subject. Dale thought he owned the president of the Daily Planet company, but the cardinal had other thoughts about the matter. Colonel Legarde waited a new franchise for an extension of the Interstate to a summer resort, some 30 miles awiy. The proposed extension would pass through another town or two on its way to the lake and would parallel Joe Dale’s steam road. Noiv Joe Dale and the colonel were bitterly at outs over various grabbings and snatchings each had made at the other’s magnateship. The cardinal could not see that this concerned him at all.; The extension would be a benefit and a convenience to the town. There was money in it for him. The deal was on. 'Then Joe Dale came from New York and sent for the cardinal. The two men faced each other with the eyes of poker players in a game, keen, deep, unfathomable. For the rest, it might have been a Whiskered farmer in his Sunday suit meeting a city man, otherwise correctly clad, wearings a red, red ascot tie. “I hear,” said Dale, “That the Interstate people want a franchise for that foolish summer resort extension of theirs.” “1 hear so too,” the cardinal replied. “Well, let’s cut it short. They can’t get it” “The extension would be a good thing for the town, Mr. Dale.” “I don’t want it. It parallels my road. Your city council must refuse the franchise.” Here was no slushy talk or thought of the rights of people or of stockholders. It was “my road,” and “your council.” The cardinal was undisturbed. “The people want it, Mr. Dale,” he said, “It will be a great convenience for travel between the towns and the lake.” p Dale measured his man again. There were the cool, unfathomable eyes, the correct clothes, the red tie. The red necktie settled it O’Brien was only a cheap politician after all. He must be shown. ! “You know, O’Brien, the Planet will oppose tljis thing to the bitter end, and you afe the president of the Dally Plfnet Publishing company. It will place you in a nasty light” This was no news to the cardinal; and his eyes were accustomed to nasty lights. But he said, tn the tone of a man who half surrenders: “I hadn’t thought of that”

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“Pollock will roast you,” the magnate went on, “Os course he can’t do it by name, but he will do you up. You must block this franchise. I Insist on it, as your friend.” “Well, Mr. Dale, Colonel Legarde is my friend too,” continued the cardinal. “The extension will parallel my road. You must stop it," snapped Dale, irritated by the mention of his enemy’s. name. He cared nothing about the extension itself, but that Colonel Legarde wanted it was enough to make him fight the franchise. O’Brien knew this as the real reason and went on deliberately. “It will be a hard thing to do. Colonel Legarde is popular—” This second mention of Legarde was too much for the temper of the railroad king. He blew up. “Dum Legarde!” he shouted. “You block that franchise or you won’t be president of the Planet company long." “Hold on, Mr. Dale. Don’t get hostile. I’d no idea you were so dead set against this thing.” “Well, I am. And I don’t want to have to tell you about it again.” “You w-on’t have to,” the cardinal assured him, and departed, well satisfied with the fact that he had made Dale too mad to see that no promise had been given to block the obnoxious franchise. Joe Dale went back to New York convinced that he had° shown the man with the red necktie it was not safe for Joe Dale’s men to fool with the Dale buzz saw. Apparently he had, for when the franchise came before the council it was chewed over, chewed up, delayed, tabled, taken up again, juggled wdth, side tracked and everything but killed outright. Public Interest in it lagged. Pollock of the Planet, his fears soothed by the parliamentary acrobatics which he thought were only O’Brien’s method of “saving face,” took himself and his loaded editorial pen to New York e on business. This was the cardinal’s time, and he acted quickly. At the next meeting of the city council the franchise was rushed through. But this was not all. In the absence of Pollock the president of the Planet company assumed authority, and the morning after, out came the Planet with news descriptions of the Interstate extension, scarehead, first page, and double-leaded indorsement of the council’s action, the need of Lacedaemon for the proposed road and the many benefits it would bring to the city, on the editorial page. The people read and marveled. Some laughed and oth- • era of the knowing ones looked scared. Dale’s

guns were spiked. He had no other local means of attacking the franchise or the cardinal, and any way the deed was done. All wondered what he would do. : They didn’t wonder long. As fast as a rail- , road king can get over the rails, Joe Dale came to Lacedaemon. He almost literally threw the , Daily Planet out of its office windows, murdered it | and jumped on its corpse. He fired Pat O’Brien | from the presidency with force and arms. It worud i have been tragic, if everybody had not been grinning at Dale’s futile wrath. As it was, the only ; ‘ satisfaction the irate railroad king got out of it was to tell a few party leaders who besought I him to continue the paper or sell, that he would | let the Western Associated press franchise expire rather than see another fool paper like that in Lacedaemon. Even this small satisfaction was lessened wheir Pollock insisted on his salary being continued to the end of ®an iron-clad four-year contract. Mr. Dale w*ent back to New York with new.ideas about city bosses and their ways. The episode, for it was only an episode in the life of busy Lacedaemon, was soon almost forgotten. The cardinal had shown Joe Dale that he > was boss of the town. Joe Dale had chopped off the cardinal’s presidential head in retaliation. Joh* Dale continued his business friend and cus r toiner, and the whole affair was dismissed from the cardinal’s busy mind as closed, with honors i even. But Joe Dale was not through with Pat O’Brien. It is a railroad king’s prerogative to punish, as well as to reward, and for the punish- j ment of O'Brien, Dale laid a trap the effectiveness of which lay entirely in its simplicity. Came John Dale one day to the cardinal and said: “Pat, I have a private tip that a big kill- I ing is coming off in Nipper stock. Buy me ten thousand at the market and hold on until I tell you to let go.” “All right,” said the cardinal, and bought another ten thousand as well for his own account Nipper advanced a point. He called in a few chosen friends who formed a pool and invested heavily. Nipper advanced two points, five points. | Pat bought more; he would pull out when John ; Dale did and retire from active business with his profits. John Dale himself had gone to New York on the day he gave his order to O’Brien. Within a day Nipper began to sag. Then it dropped below the buying point. The pool put up more margins. The stock still dropped, swiftly now, and the" other members of the pool became alarmed. Pat reassured them. They’re shaking out the small blocks of stock,” he said, “Then you’ll see her sky-rocket.” Nipper continued to toboggan. Pat’s friends were seriously concerned. They talked of selling and pocketing their losses, but he showed them his hand. “Look here,” he said, VJoJin Dale is in this thing up to his neck and we know where he gets his private tips. Here’s what he has on my books alone. As long as he holds on and keeps up his margins, I’m satisfied.” His friends knew the cardinal; they knew he, too, was “up to his neck;” they held on. Suddenly Nipper went down like mercury in blizzard weather. The friends were wildly alarmed. They Insisted that John Dale was giving Dick the “double cross.” Though he did not believe it, he wired to New York for special and private investigation of John Dale’s movements there. And after a little delay tidings came that made the pool-sharers very sick men. John Dale had gone to New York, had a short talk with his father, then gone straightway to his broker and sold short ten thousand Nipper at the market. The profits on the sale as the stock went down would pay his losses on the Lacedaemon purchase. Meanwhile Joe Dale would see to it that Nipper did go down until Pat O’Brien was utterly swamped. Os course the pool made haste to sell out. John Dale’s private tip had been a prophecy. A killing had been made and O’Brien and his friends were the slaughtered ones. When the debris was finally swept up the cardinal, who had plunged flerce- • ly on his own private account, found himself poorer by some $750,000. It had cost him that much -■ to disobey the mandate of a railroad king. But he still owns Lacedaemon.

ALL BACKED AWAY TOGETHER Woman Creates Much Excitement at Railroad Station by Accusing Man of Stealing Her Ticket. A short woman, wearing a white shirtwaist and a hat with three apples ; on it, grabbed by the neck a chunky young man who held a ticket In his right hand In the waiting room of the Lackawanna railroad station in Hoboken at 5:30 o’clock yesterday afternoon and screamed, “Give me my ticket!” “Gug-gug-gug,” gasped the gagged stranger, as he struggled to release her grip. The station cop went to the man’s rescue and gently inquired what the rumpus was all about. “He’s got my ticket," said the woman. “I haven’t,” growled the man. “I paid for it and it’s mine.” “Well, it looks like mine,” explained the woman. “It's the same shape and color. I put it in my bag, which I placed on the seat, and I saw him walk away from it.” “Why don’t you look in your bag ; and make sure?” suggested the cop. The woman took a peek and found her ticket. “Men shouldn’t carry their tickets in their hands,” said the policeman, as he backed away from the backing Woman and backing man. Consolation. There had been a little quarrel after the honeymoon. “And just look at my pretty linen ■ collar,” sobbed the young wife; “the ■ tears have trickled down and wilted it out of shape. You haven’t a bit of feeling.” “Indeed I have,” laughed the big husband; “I’m going to fix things up." “H-how, George?” “Why, the next time I go ddwntown I am going to buy you a waterproof collar." The Real Robber. They were looking over the best six sellers. “Ah, this fiction is right up to date,” remarked Gunner, as he looked .over the titles. “Here is a novel called ‘The Robbery in the Paris Taxicab.’” “H’h!” ejaculated Guyer. “Does it mention the name of the robber?” I “No, I guess it was the taxij meter.” For Gunner had been to Paris and ; knew something- about the taxicabs. In His Line. “And now, Nora,” said the one who ; had engaged a new cook, “I require all j onions to be peeled under water.” “All onions peeled under wather!” I echoed Nora. “Shure, awn 01’11 slnd me brother Larry aroun’. He will suit yez betther.” “Your brother Larry?” “Yls, mum; he was cook on a submarine boat in th’ English navy.” His Hobo N?me. “What is your name?” inquired the kind-hearted woman, as she handed the intellectual looking tramp a large ; piece of her best jelly cake. “Me real name, ma’am,” the man replied between his eager bites, “is known only to th’ forgotten past; but I ever since me gal turned me down an’ i her ol’ man turned me out I’ve went by th’ name of ‘Gas.’ ” c Dangerous. ’’l Convalescent Patient —I owe my life -.o my physician and when he comes I am going to tell him so. Friend —Better wait until some other day. C. P. —Why so? Friend —Well, he is out collecting all that is owing to him today, and he ! might take it. At Uncle’s. f Bill —Do you know that a watch ' ticks 157,680,000 times in a year, and the wheels tracel 3,558% miles? Jill—-No, do you? s “Certainly I do.” “I don’t see how you can prove it. You never carried a watch a whole year that I know of.” —Yonkers Statesman. Bad Error. Tom—How is it old man Giltwood turned you down when you asked for his daughter’s hand? Dick—Why, that’s what I get for proposing by letter. Instead of writing, ‘Darling, I will support you on savings, an ‘h’ slipped in on my typewriter, and it read, ‘Darling, I will support you on shavings.’ ” Making Himself Solid. Tom—So your proposal to the pretty girl in the park was a flat failure? Some one cut you out? Dick —Yes, they had cut me out with a chisel. I was so busy proposing I didn’t notice that I was sitting on a freshly cemented wall and the blamed stuff hardened. Sounded Grand, But— Stubb —I thought you told me Bluffwood had a suit for every day in the week. He has only one suit -to his name. Penn —Well, doesn’t he wear that every day in the week? The Lone Exception. Gunner —The world hasn’t any use for knockers. Guyer —I don’t know about that It doesn’t object to opportunity and she’s a great knocker.

90XX»,000 IN THIS CLUB Young Chicagoan Attending School In England “Puts One Over" on Hia Numerous Tormentors. The young son of a Chicago man, who attended school in an English provincial town, found himself, by rea son of the fact that he was the only representative of his nation there, made the subject of much chaff on the part of his British cousins. The young fellow, however, took the guying with such good nature that, despite the number of his tormentors, he generally managed to come off with flying colors. On one occasion at aq evening gathering the westerner wore upon his coat lapel a pin in the form of a tiny American flag. Several of his friends pretended not to recognize the Stars and Stripes, and one of them, a young woman, affecting a most supercilious air, gazed long at the emblem and said: “You belong to some secret society or organization, I see.” “Oh, yes,” cheerfully assented the Chicago chap, amiably. “It’s my club you know. There are about 90.000,000 of us in it now, I believe.—Harper’s Weekly. Between Neighbors. “This thing has gone far enough,” stormed the man in the bungalow “Your chickens come through the fence and ruin my garden.” “Well, why don't you keep an eye on them?” asked the man in the cot tage. “What? I’d have you understand that I’m not going to mind your chickens.” “Mind them? Well, if you don’t mind them what in the world are you talking about, anyway?” Extra Passengers. The backwoods train was moving at traction-engine speed. “Is this the fastest train on the road?” asked the impatient tourist “It’s de limited, sah,” responded the porter, with much pride. “Carries everything before it, eh?” “Not ebbything, sah, but generally a cow or a mule on de pilot. Reckon deh’s sumfing deh now, kase Ah fee) her slowing up a bit.” Asking Too Much. “See here, young man,” said tha irate father, “your college principal says he doesn’t know of anything that you would be likely to make a success of. Now, sir, I’d like to know what you intend to make of yourself?” “Give it up, father,” replied the young man. “How do you expect me to answer a question that even a college professor can’t answer?" Th'! Secret Out. “What is the most important thing in your line?” asked the inquisitive youth. “The art of putting the right word in the right place,” answered the poet I “For instance, the expressions, ‘Din ner for nothing’ and ‘Nothing for dinner,’ contain the same words, yet what different meanings they convey?” At Midnight. Mrs. Tymidlay (shaking her husband to waken him) —Oh, John, I’rr afraid there’s a man downstairs; 1 heard a. noise that spudded just like a yawn! Mr. Tymidlay—Oh. go to sleep anc don’t bother me! What you heard was probably your rubber plant stretching itself. Not Selfish. Wakeley—The Foodleres are certainly selfish. Foodlere told me this afternoon that he and his wife have meat three times a day, but they never think of letting their children have any. Mrs. Wakpley—W’hy, John, theii children are only babies! The Men Don’t Deserve It. “I defy anyone to name a field o! endeavor in which men do not receive more consideration than women!” exclaimed the orator at a suffragette meeting. “The chorus,’ murmured some ir- ; responsible person.—Lippincott’s. Bird in the Hand. Mrs. Styles—l wish you would not take that squab in your hand when you eat it. Mr. Styles—Why, a bird in the hand I is worth two—well, you know the rest, dear! —Yonkers Statesman. At It Again. Growells —This meat is scorched again. It’s a pity you can’t get a meal without burning something! Mrs. Growells —It’s a pity you can’t sit down to the table without roasting , somebody! Third-Degree Scene. The Heroine (in Chinese den)— I Help! Help! What in heaven’s name are about to do, Claude Cunningham? The Villain —Wr-r-r-ring the secret | from you, cuk-kurse you!—Puck. Poor Percy. Pearl —Percy Pink has given up golf and taken up motoring. He used to tire every one at golf. Ruby—H’m! Now I suppose he will be an "automobile, tire.” Appropriate. “Why do you call this poem ’The Boomerang?’ ” “It always comes back.”

' ■---J Controlled Newspapers. ’Atchison Globe says that no ad* vertiser has ever tried to control its ed« itorial policy, the remark being occae sioned by the charge often made nowadays, that the big advertisers direct the editorial policy of newspapers. The experience of the Globe is the experience of most newspapers. The merchant who does a great deal of advertising is more interested in the circulation department of a newspaper than in the editorial department. If a daily paper goes to the homes of the people, and is read by them, he is satisfied, and it may chase after any theory or fad, for all he cares. He has troubles of his own, and he isn’t trying to shoulder those of the editorial brethren. There are newspapers controlled by people outside of the editorial rooms, and a good many of them, more’s the pity; but the people exercising that control are not the business men who pay their money for advertising space. The newspapers which are established for political purposes are often controlled by chronic officeseekers, whose first' concern is their own interests. There are newspapers controlled by great corporations, and the voice ofsuch newspapers is always raised in b protest against any genuine rfeform. The average western newspaper use, ally is controlled by its owner, and he is supposed to be in duty bound to make all sorts of sacrifices at ail sorts of times; there are people who consider it his duty to insult his advertisers, just to show that he is free and independent. If he shows a decent respect for his patrons, who pay him their money, and make It possible for him to carry on the he is “subsidized” or “controlled.” Ttie newspaper owner is a business man, like the dry goods man or the grocer. The merchants are expected to have consideration for their customers, and they are not supposed to be subsidized by th© man who spends five dollars with them, but the publisher is expected to demonstrate his courage by showing that he is ungrateful for the patronage of his friends. It is a funny combination when you think ft oven—» Emporia Gazette. A. BAD THING TO NEGLECT. Don’t neglect the kidneys When you notice lack of control over the secrei tions. Passages become too frequent or scanty; urine is discolored and sediment appears. No medicine for such

troubles like Doan’s Kidney Pills. They quickly remove kid- ' ney disorders. Mrs. A. E. Fulton, 311 Skidmore .St., • Portland, Ore.,says: My limbs swelled terribly and I was bloated over the stomach and had puffy spots beneath the eyes. My kidneys

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were very unhealthy* and the secretions much disordered. The dropsical swellings began to abate after I began using Doan’s Kidney Pills and soon I was cured.” Remember the name—Doan’s. For sale by all dealers. 50 cents a box. Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y. The Miser of Sag Harbor. , n “Economy,” said Daniel W. Field,' the millionaire shoe manufacturer of Boston, who at the age of forty-five has entered Harvard, “economy is essential to wealth, but by economy I don’t mean niggardliness. “Too many men ffl.il to attain to wealth because they practise a ' cheeseparing and mean-economy that gets everybody down on them. “Thgy practise, in fact, an economy ; like that of old William Brewster of j Sag Harbor. William, you know, 'prould never buy oysters because he couldn’t eat shells and all.” A Protection Against the Heat, When you begin to think it’s a pe> Bonal matter between you and the sun to see which is the hotter, buy yom> -self a glass or a bottle of Coca-Cola. It is cooling—relieves fatigue and quenches the thirst. Wholesome’ as the purest water and lots nicer to drink. At soda fountains and car- . bonated in -bottles—sc everywhere. Send 2c stamp for booklet “The Truth About Coca-Cola” and the Coca-Cola Baseball Record Book for 1910. The latter contains the famous poem; “Casey At The Bat,” records, schedule© for both leagues, and other valuable baseball information compiled by authorities. Address The Coca-Cola Co, , Atlanta, Ga. — Looked Like a Pattern. ! “My dear,” asks the thoughtful husband, “did you notice a large sheet of paper with a lot of diagrams on it , about my desk?” “You mean that big piece with dots and curves and diagonals and things all over it?” “Yes. It was my map of the path lof Halley’s comet I wanted to —” “My goodness! I thought it was that, , pattern I asked you to get, and the dressmaker is cutting out my new (shirtwaist by it!”—Chicago Evening Post.- ’’ _ Notes and Comments. Church —Does your neighbor play | jthat cornet without notes? Gotham —Yes; but not without comi ments. —Yonkers Statesman. DON’T SPOIL YOUR CLOTHES. Use Red Cross Ball Blue and keep them white as snow. All grocers, 5c a package. There is always rdom at the top land in a Masonic lodge a man has to twork up to it by degrees. ; ©r. Pierce’s Pleasant Pellets reralate and tnvta. orate stomach, liver and bowels. Sngar-ccateß, jtiay granules, easy to take as candy. i Many people are busy mortgaging^« |the future in order to acquire a past.