University of South Carolina Libraries
' " ISSUED ilMI^WElKLT, l. m. grist's sons, Publishers, j % <^amtl|| gleirspager: <^or the promotion of the Ijolitical, Social, Agricultural, and (Eomutercial Interests of the $)eogte. {TBMSw?j?J0p*m5i! cmS^0** ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE, S. C., FRIDAY, MARCH 25, 1904. NO. 25. &$ '! > M' I' 'I' '! } 'l"l' '! 'I' !' ! 'I1 'M' f ( ! I' * 'I' 'I't 'I' I i ! * 1- ! |l Z5he Ge III From h til |s| * |(X Copyright, 1899, by Doubltdaj jJ? Copyright, 1901 % t * ! ! '! * ?? ! ! *?* : > < ! 1 * '1' ! '! -1 * ! * ** ! ! CHAPTER VIII?Continued. The men on ilie embankuient were walking slowly, bending far over, their yes fixed on the ground. Suddenly one of tliein stood erect and tossed his arms in the air and shouted loudly. Other men ran to liim, and another far down the track repeated the shout and the gesture to another far in his rear. This man took it up and shouted and wuved to a fourth man. and so they passed the signal back to town. There 1 * + !.?**/* Cillilf uiuiusi iiuiutruiuicij tunc iuu^i loud whistles from a mill near the station, and the embankment grew black with people pouring out from town, while the searchers came running from the fields and woods aud underbrush on both sides of the railway. Briscoe began to walk on toward the embankment. The track lay level and straight, not dimming in the middle distances, the rails converging to points both northwest and southeast in the clean washed air like examples of perspective in a child's drawing book. About seventy miles to the west and north lay Rouen. In the same direction, nearly six miles from where the signal was given, the iruch. wiis crusseu u,\ u iuau icauiug directly south to Six Crossroads. The embankment had been newly ballasted with sand. What had been discovered was a broad brown stain in the sand on the south slope near the top. There were smaller stains above and below, none beyond it to left or right, and there were many deep footprints in the sand. Men were examining the place excitedly, talking and gesticulating. It was Lige Willetts who had found it. His horse was tethered to a fence near by at the end of a lane through a cornfield. Jared Wiley, the deputy sheriff, was talking to a group near the stain, explaining. "You see. them two must have knowed about the 1 o'clock freight and that it was to stop here to take on the empty lumber cars. I don't know how they knowed It, but they did. It was this way: When they got out the 'window they beat through the storm straight for this side track. At the same time Mr. Harkless leaves Briscoe's. goin' west. It begins to rain. He cuts across to the railroad to have a sure footin' and strikin' for the deepo for shelter?near place as any, except Briscoe's, where he's said good night already, and prob'ly don't wish ~ rrn. lvn/.l- foul- of jrivin' tl-nllhlP Of keepin" 'em up. Anybody can understand that. He comes along and gets to where we are precisely at the time they do, them comin' from town, him strikin' for it. They run right into each other. That's what happened. They re-cog-nized him and raised up on I'.nn and let him have it What they done it with I don't know. We took everything in that line off of 'em. ProlVly used railroad iron, and what they done with him afterward we don't know, but we will by night. They'll sweat it out of 'en) up at Iiouen when they get 'em." "I reckon maybe some of us might help." remarked Mr. Watts reflectively. Jim Hardlock swore a violent oath. "That's the talk!" he shouted. "Ef 1 ain't the first man of this crowd to set my foot in Itoowun and first to beat in that jail door I'm not town marshal of Plattville. county of Carlow, state of Indiana, and the Lord have mercy on our soul?!" ro i!.. l^^UrxA of flm hPAWTl loin .uaillll luutvcrvi u. l mv. staiu and quickly turned away. Then he went back slowly to the village. On the way he passed Warren Smith. "Is it so'!" asked the lawyer. Martin answered with a dry throat. He looked out over the sunlit fields and swallowed once or twice. "Yes, it's so. There's a good deal of it there. Little more than a boy he was." The old fellow passed his seamy hand over his eyes without concealment. "Peter ain't very bright sometimes, it seems to me." he added brokenly: "overlook Bodeffer and Fisbee and me, and all of us old husks, and?and"?he gulped suddenly, then finished?"and act the fool and take a boy that's the best we had. I wish the Almighty would a. ??t? ti? jlin.t flt Lil IV* JL UlCI VII. IUC ouiv. fer it." When the attorney reached the spot where the crowd was thickest, way was made for him. The old colored man. Xenophou. approached at the same time, leaning on a hickory stick and bent very far over, one hand resting on his hip as if to ease a rusty joint. The negro's age was an incentive to fable. From his appearance he might have known the prophets, and he wore that hoary look of unearthly wisdom which many decades of superstitious experience sometimes give to members of his race. His face, so tortured with wrinkles that it might have been made of innumerable black threads woven together, was a living mask of the mystery of his blood. Harkless had once said that Uncle Xeuoplion had visited heaven before Swedenborg and hell before Dante. Today as he slowly limped over the ties his eyes were bright and dry under the solemn lids, and, though his heavy nostrils were unusually distended in the effort for regular breathing, the deeply puckered lips beneath them were set firmly. He stopped and looked at the faces before him. When he spoke his voice was gentle, and. though the tremulousncss of age harped on the * oeal strings, it was rigidly controlled. 4 Kin some kine gelmun," he asked, i-I" 'I1 4' 't 4* 4? ? >. M-H.1 r .1. ! ? ! ! ? ! -I- !' !' ! ! 1 ! ? ntleman If i idiana ill ?? <*> 1 OOTH TjXHKI/VGTOJV jj*j; j ?? ? i ' /3i McClurt Co. ?? .? I I, by McClurt. Vhittipj (7SL Co. | |J'' H"H- ! ! ! ?4- ! * ? ! ! ! * ! * ! 1 ' t>? ? * * * '1' ***** ! * ! * 4< 'I' * 4 ! .t. ft? I 'please t' be so good ez t' show de ole ' J_ ?i?I. n?.vfl in ,in?c main wuuu ut? u 11c 10 uu?c | ihoot Marse Hawkliss?" I "Here was where it happened, Uncle Zen," answered Wiley, leading hiin for- 1 ward. "Here is the stain." Xenophon bent over the spot on the i sand, making little odd noises in his throat. Then he painfully resumed t his former position. "Dnss his blood," he said in the same gentle, quavering \ tone. "Dass my bes' frien' whut lay i on de groun' whay yo' staind, gelmuu. ] Dass whuh dey laid 'im, an' dass whuh | he lie," the old negro continued. "Dey \ shot 'im in de tiel's. Dey ain't shot 'im ] heah. Yondeh dey druggeu 'im, but ( dis whuh he lie." He bent over again, i then knelt groauingly and placed his , hand on the stain, one would have j said, as a man might place his band i over a heart to see if it still beat. He \ was motionless, with the air of heark- j ening. ( "Marse, honey, is you gone?" He j raised his voice as if calling. "Is yo' j gone, suh?marse?" \ He looked up at the circle about him. j and then, still kneeling, not taking his hand from the sand, seeming to wait j for a sign to listen for a voice, he said: ( "Whafo' yo' gelmun think de good j Lawd summon Marse Hawkliss? Kase ? he de inos' Iitte3'? You know, dat man j he ketch me in de cole night, wintuli { 'fo' lais." steal in' 'is wood. You know j whut he done t' de ole thief? Tek an' j bull' up big tiah een ole Zen' shainty. s Say: Tle'p yo'se'f, an' welcome. Keckon you hougry. too. ain' you. Xenophon?' Tek an' feed me, tek an' tek keer o' me ev' since. Ah pump de baith full in de mawn', inek 'is bed. pull de weeds out'n de front walk; dass all. He tek me in. When Ah aisk Mm ain' he 'fraid keen ole thief he say, jesso: 'Dnss all my fault. Xenophon; ought , look you up long 'go: ought know long , 'go you he cole dese baid nights. Reck- , on Ah'm de thievenest one 'us two. , Xenophon. keepiu' all dis wood stock' , up when you got none.' he say. Jesso. , Tek me in; say he lalik a thief: pay me ^ sala'y: feed me. Dass de main wliut j de Caps gone shot lais' night." He raised his head sharply, and the uiys- ] tery in his gloomy eyes intensified as , they opened wide and stared at the j sky unseeingly. "All's bawn wid a cawl!" he exclaimed loudly. His twisted frame was l braced to an extreme tension. "All's , bawn wid a cawl! De blood anssuh!" "It wasn't the White Caps. Uncle , Xenophon." said Warren Smith, laying ' his hand on the old man's shoulder. Xenophon rose to his fept. He stretched a long, bony arm straight to the west, where the Crossroads lay; stood rigid and silent, like a seer; then spoke: "De uien wliut shot Marse Hawkliss lies yondeh, liidin' f'um do light o' day. An' him"?be swerved his whole rigid body till the arm pointed north west?"he lies yondeli. You won' tine 'itu hoah. Dey fought Mm in de tiel's. an' dey druggen Mm heali. Dis whuh dey lay 'im down. All's bawn wid a eawl!" There were exclamations from the listeners, for Xenophon spoke as one having authority. Suddenly he turned ami pointed his outstretched hand full at .ludge Briscoe. "An' dass de main." he cried; "dass de main kin tell yo' Ah speak de trufe!" Before Briscoe answered. Eph Watts looked at liirn keenly and then turned to I.ige Willetts and whispered: "Get on your horse, ride in and ring the courthouse bell like fury. Do as 1 say." ; Tears stood in the judge's eyes. "It is so." he said solemnly. "He speaks the truth. I didn't mean to tell It today. but somehow"? He paused. "The hounds!" he cried. "They de serve it. My (laughter saw them crossI big the fields in the night?saw tbein climb the fence, a big crowd of them. She and the lady who is visiting us saw theiu?saw them plainly. The lady saw them several times clear as day by the dashes of lightning. The scoundrels were coming this way. They must have been dragging him with "All's buwn wid a cawl I" them then. He couldn't have had a show for his life among them. Do what you like. Maybe they've got him at the Crossroads. If there's a chance of it, dead or alive, bring him back!" < A voice rang out above the clamor that followed the judge's speech. "'Bring him back!' God could, maybe, but he won't. Who's travelln' my way? I go west!" Hartley Bowlder had ridden his sorrel right up the embankment. and the horse stood between the rails. There was an angry roar from the crowd. The prosecutor pleaded and threatened unheeded, and, as for the deputy sheriff, be declared his intention of taking with him all who wished to go as his posse. Eph Watts succeeded ?n making himself heard above the tumult. "The square!" he shouted. "Start from the square. We want everybody. We'll need them. And we want every pne in Carlow to be Implicated In thla posse." "They will be!" shouted a farmer. 'Don't you worry about that." "We want to get Into some sort of shape!" cried Epli. "Shape!" repeated Hartley Bowlder scornfully. There was a hiss and clang and rattle behind him, and a steam whistle shrieked. The crowd divided, and Hartley's sorrel scrambled down just In time as the westbound accommodation rushed by ou its way to Rouen. From the rear platform leaned* the sheriff, Horner, waving his hands frantically as he flew by, but 110 one unlerstood or cared what he said or in the general excitement even wondered why he was going away. When the train had dwindled to a dot and disippeared and the noise of its rush jrew faint the courthouse bell was leard ringing, and the mob was rushng pellinell into the village to form on he square. The Judge stood alone on he embankment. "That settles it," he said aloud, jloomily watching the last figures. He ;ook off his hat and pushed back the hick white hair from his forehead. 'Nothing to do but wait. Might as well jo home for that. Blast it!" lie exflaimed impatiently. "I don't want to ;o there. It's too hard on the little jirl. If she hadn't come till next week >he'd never have known John Harkless." CHAPTER IX. LL morning horsemen had been galloping through Six ESS Crossroads, sometimes sinHMEresI gly, oftener in company. At L o'clock the last posse passed through an its return to the county seat, and after that there was a long, complete jllence, while the miry corners were undisturbed by a single hoof beat. No unkempt colt nickered from bis musty stall. The sparse young corn that used to nod and chuckle greenly stood rigid In the tields. Up the Plattville pike iespairingiy cackled one old hen, with her wabbling, sailor run. smit with a superstitious horror of nothing. She hid herself in the shadow underneath a rickety barn and was still. Only on the Wimby farm were there signs of life. The old lady who had sent Harkless roses sat by the window all morning and wiped her eyes, watching the horsemen ride by. Sometimes they would hail her and tell her there was nothing yet. About 2 o'clock her husband rattled up in a buckboard and got out the shotgun of the late and more authentic Mr. Wimby. This he carefully cleaned and oiled in spite of Its hammerless and quite useless condition. sitting meanwhile by the window opposite his wife and often looking up from his work to shake his weak fist at his neighbors' domiciles and creak decrepit curses aud denunciations. But the Crossroads was ready. It knew what was coming now. Frightened. desperate, sullen, it was ready. The afternoon wore on. and lengthening shadows fell upon a peaceful?one would have said a sleeping?country. The sun dried pike, already dusty, stretched its serene length between green borders flecked with purple and yellow and white weed flowers, and the tree shadows were not shade, but warm blue and lavender glows in the general pervasion of still, bright light; the sky curving its deep, unburnished, penetrable blue over all. with no single drift of fleece upon it to be reflected in the creek that wound along past willow and sycamore, dimpled but unmurmuring. A woodpecker's telegraphy broke the quiet like a volley of pistol shots. But far eastward on the pike there slowly developed a soft, white haze It grew denser and larger and grad ually rolled nearer. Dimly behind It could be discerned a darker, moving nucleus that extended far back upon the road. A heavy tremor began to stir the air; faint, manifold sounds, a waxing, increasing, multitudinous rumor. The pike ascended a long, slight slope leading west up to the Crossroads. From a thicket of ironweed at the foot of this slope was thrust the visage of an undersized girl of fourteen. Her fierce eyes examined the approaching cloud of dust Intently. A redness rose under the burnt yellow skin und colored the wizened cheeks. Tliey were coming. She stepped quickly out of the tangle and darted up the road. She tan with the speed of a tieet little terrier, not opening her lips, not calling out, but holding her two thin hands high above her head; that was all. But Birnam wood was come to Dunsinane at last, \nd the messenger sped. Out of the weeds in the corner of the snake fence, in the upper part of the rise, silently lifted the heads of men whose sallowaess became a sickish white as the child Hew by. The mob was carefully organized. They had taken their time and had prepared everything deliberately, knowing that nothing could stop them. No one had any thought of concealment; It was all as open as the light of day, all done in the broad sunshine. Nothing had been determined as to what was to be done at the Crossroads more iefinite than that the place was to_be1 wiped out. That was comprehensive enough; the details were quite certain to occur. They were all on foot, marching in fairly regular ranks. In front walked Mr. Watts, the man Harklese had abhorred in a public spirit and befriended in private. Today he was a hero and a leader, marching to avenge his professional oppressor and personal brother. Cool, unruffled and to outward vision unarmed, marching the miles in his brown frock coat and generous linen, he led the way. On one side of him were the two Bowlders, or the other was Lige Willetts, Mr. Watte preserving peace between the young men with perfect tact and sang frold. They kept good order and a simllinniot ff\v an munv ovponf far tr the rear, where old Wilkerson was bringing up the tall of the procession dragging a wretched yellow dog by a rope fastened around the poor cur's protesting neck, the knot .carefully ar ranged under his right ear. In spite ol every command and protest Wilkersor had marched the whole way uproarl ously singing "John Brown's Body." The sun was in the west when they came in sight of the Crossroads, and the cabins on the low slope stood oul angularly against the radiance beyond As they beheld the hated settlement the heretofore orderly ranks showed a disposition to depart from the steady U1JUU > Ci CU, ?? 44 ?5 OlU^tU^ U UJUUUtiVUH requiem for John Harkless. The sun ^as swinging lower, and the edges of the world were embroidered with gold, while that deep volume of sound shook the air, the song of a stern, savage, just cause?sung perhaps as some of the ancestors of these men sang with Hampden before the bristling walls of a hostile city. It had iron and steel in it. The men lying on their guns in the ambuscade along the fence heard the dirge rise and grow to its mighty fullness, and they shivered. One of them, posted nearest the advuLiX had his ritle carefully leveled at Lige Willetts, a fair target In the road. When he heard the singing he turned to the man next behind him and laughed harshly, "I reckon we'll see a big jamboree other side Jordan tonight, huh?" The huge murmur of the chorus expanded and gathered in rhythmic strength and swelled to power and rolled and thundered across the plain. "John Brown's body lies a-molderlng In the ground, John Brown's body lies a-molderlng In the ground, John Brown's body lies a-molderlng In the ground, His soul goes marching on! Glory, glory, halleluiah! Glory, glory, halleluiah! Glory, glory, halleluiah! His soul goes marching on!" A gun spat fire from the higher ground, and Willetts dropped where lie stood, but was up again in a second, with a red line across his forehead where the ball had grazed his temple. The mob spread out like a fan, the men climbing the fence and beginning the advance through the fields, thus closing on the ambuscade from both sides. Mr. Watts, wading through the high grass in the lield north of the road, perceived the barrel of a gun shining from the fence some distance iu front of him and the same second, although no weapon was seen in his hand, discharged a revolver at the clump of grass and weeds behind the gun. Instantly ten or. twelve men leaped from their hiding places along the fences of both fields and, firing hurriedly and harmlessly into the scat tered ranks of the oncoming mob broke for the shelter of the houses where their fellows were posted. Tak en on the thinks and from the rear there was hut one thing for them to do to keep from being hemmed in and shot or captured. (They excessively preferred being shot.) With a wild, high, joyous yell, sounding like the bay of young hounds breaking into view of their ouarry. the Plattville men fol lowed. The most eastward! of the debilitated edifices of Six Crossroads was the saloon. It bore the painted legends, on the west wall. "Last Chance;" on the east wall, "First Chance." Next to this nnd separated by two or three acres of weedy vacancy from the corners. where the population centered thickest, stood?if one may so predicate of a building which leaned in seven directions?the liouse of Mr. Robert Slcillett, the proprietor of the saloon. Both buildings were shut up as tight as their state of repair permitted. As they were farthest to the east, they formed the nearest shelter, and to them the Crossroaders bent their flight, though they stopped not here, but di appeared behind Skillett's shanty, puitin?_it between them.apd their pur suers, whose guns were beginning-?! i spenk. The fugitives had a good starl and, being the picked runners of tin : Crossroads, they crossed the open i weedy acres in safety and made f' their homes. Every bouse had becomi i a fort, and the defenders would bavi i to be fought and torn out one by one > As the guns sounded, a woman in i ibanty near the forge began to screan > and kept on screaming. On came the farmers and the men o ! Plattvlile. They took the saloon at i 1 run, battered down the crazy door 1 with a fence rail and swarmed lnsidi ' like busy insects, making the plac hum like a hive, but with the hotte ' industries of destruction. It was empt: advance and rush the shanties. Wllletts, the Bowlders. Parker, Ross Schofield and a dozen others did, In fact break away and set a sharp pace up the slope. Watts tried to call them back "What's the use your gettln* killed?" he shouted. "Why not?" answered Lige, and, like the others, was Increasing his speed when old "Wiinby" rose up suddenly from the roadside ahead of them and motioned them frantically to go back, "They're laid out along the fence waitin' fer ye." he warned them. "Git oul the road. Come by the fields. Fer the T ah/1'o tsnlro onrnn/1!" Thnn a a aiiririon. uuiu a ouavi oj/1 vuu. auvu uw wuwwu ly as he had appeared he dropped down into the weeds again. Lige and those with him paused, and the whole body came to a halt while the leaders consulted. There was a sound of metallic clicking and a thin rattle of steel. From far to the rear came the voice of old Wilkerson: "John Brown's body lies a-moldering in the ground, John Brown's body lies a-moldering In the ground." A few near him as they stood waiting began to take up the burden of the song, singing it in slow time like a dirge. Then those farther away took it up. It spread, reached the leaders. They, too. began to sing, taking oft their hats as they joined in, and soon the whole concourse, solemn, earnest, oi me us a iomo, urn. tuey ueui uu< 1 tore and battered and broke and bam ' mered and shattered like madmen; the: 1 reduced the tawdry interior to a mer 1 chaos and came pouring forth ladei J with trophies of ruin, and then ther was a charry smell in the air, and i 1 Blender feather of smoke floated uj from a second -story window. At the same time Watts led an as sault on the adjoining house, an assaul ' which came to a sudden pause, fo from cracks in the front wall a squirre * rifle and a shotgun snapped an< banged, and the crowd fell back in dls 1 order. Homer Tibbs had a hat blowi away, full of buckshot holes, while Mr ' Watts solicitously examined a smal They were coming. aperture in the skirts of his brown coal The house commanded the road, an< the rush of the mob into the village p was checked, but only for the instant. A rickety woodshed which formed i portion of the. Skillett mansion closel: J joined the "Last Chance" side of thi family place of business. Scarcely hat I the guns of the defenders soundet when, with a loud shout, LIge Willett , leaped from an upper window on tha side of the burning saloon and landet ( on the woodshed and, immediatel: ( climbing the roof of the mansion itseli applied a brand to the dry, time wort j clapboards. Ross Schofield dropped oi i the woodshed close behind him, hi: , arm lovingly infolding a gallon jug o whisky, which he emptied (not withou evident regret) upon the clapboards a: Lige fired them. Flames burst forti nlmnot inatnntlv nnit thp smoke, unit Ing with that now rolling out of everj window of the saloon, went up to beav en in a cumbrous, gray column. J As the flames began to spread then was a rapid fusillade from the rear o 1 the house, and a hundred men ant more, who had kept on through thi | fields to the north, assailed It from be ; hind. Their shots passed clear througl the flimsy partitions, and there was i screaming like beasts' howls from with 1 In. The front door was thrown open t and a lean, fierce eyed girl, with a easi knife in her hand, ran out in the faci 1 of the mob. At sound of the shots ii the rear they had begun to advance oi the house a second time, and Hartle: Bowlder was the nearest man to tin girl. With awful words and shriekinj Inconceivably she made straight a Hartley and attucked him with th< knife. She struck at him again am again, and in her anguish of hate an< fear she was so extraordinary a specta cle that she gained for her companion: the seconds they needed to escape fron the house. As she hurled herself atom at the oncoming torrent they sped fron the door unnoticed, sprang over thi fence and reached the open tots to thi west before they were seen by Willett from the roof. "Don't let 'em fool ycu!" he shouted "Look to your left! There they go Don't let 'em get away!" TO BE CONTINUED. Xft" I.nst year the British mercantili marine sustained 1,483 casualties, o which 348 were .complete wrecks. Thi loss of life was 5,318. t">' The hay crop, excepting con alone. Is the greatest in value, the gros realization during last year on 61, 305,940 tons being $556,376,880. The Stuttgarter Mlt-und Ruckver sicherungs-Aktlengesellschaft is ai insurance company, with a capital" o $2,000,000, which Insures machinery. XiT The patent office is proportionate ly the most profitable of our govern ment departments. A balance of ovei $5,000,000 lies to its credit in the treas ury. .*'v Royal palaces in Russia are salt to be damp and unhealthy. Their in sanitary condition is cimmeu auim to be the cause of the czarina's recen illness. ti'f A four inch strip of land was soli In New York city recently. The prici paid is said to have been $1,666. Thi strip separates two properties on Sev enth avenue. iff The tip problem has been solvet by a Parisian restaurant, so the res taurateur thinks. His custom is t( assess his patrons five per cent o their bills and divide the money thui raised among the waiters. ? pis(cUa?fous grading. I e - ? o '' FORTUNE 13 WON AND LOST. " r s< 9 tl Wonderfully Demoralizing Effects of Cotton Gambling. ^ I "Sell! No, you wouldn't sell any fl j more than I did." said the stranger at ^ the Buford. "I was thousands ahead b f and I trot delirious, or may be I was p; x just a plain fool. I didn't know very f? H much about speculating. I had played e poker, and had the same experience je e that every man has who Is not a pro- n, r fessional. I had won as much as sev- w ? eral hundred dollars In a night, and ni r ? j *he next day I had gone out and spent \ . my winnings recklessly and foolishly. ^ j A. few nights later I lost as much or tl B a good deal more than I had won. In jr j other words, I threw away what I won rji e and put my nose to the grindstone to ! pay what I lost; and this did not take w j into account the tax on nerves and tl health. tl i. "But I had never speculated until di t last fall. Everybody was talking cot- c, r ton and as I happened to have a good f( j deal of extra money at the time I j bought about $700 worth of contracts. w , And cotton went up. I was Interested a j over the first winning. I soon became tl absorbed. I paid no attention to my u ) family. I thought only about cotton. n 1 got $5,000 ahead. I held on. My prof- e] Its rose to $8,000, and I began to make ? plans for the future. I used to figure f, with a pencil what I would buy. Soon t] I was $10,000 ahead. I was In an In- h densely emotional, excitable state and could hardly sleep. The market! That p was all I thought about. jt "My profits went up to $15,000. I kept g] all my winnings in?took nothing out g( ?kept pyramiding. Some of my cool- ^ er friends came to me and begged me ji *" AU* mw onntronto Kilt T U'flQ ' U I IU3C UUl 111 J wihiuvvo, MU? wild. s, "I got $18,000 ahead. That was more n money than I ever expected to have. w It never occurred to me that I could lose. As I look back upon It now I n know 1 was insane. I was so certain w that I was coming out winner that I w made positive plans as to what I j, should buy and how I should invest ? the money. My profits kept climbing. w Past $20,000 they went, and I began to ^ lose flesh and go unshaven. "The more I won the greedier I be- ei came. When I began I would have f, rworn that when I got $5,000 ahead I tl would stop, but at the $25,000 profit u . mark I was a furious bull, screaming u hat cotton must go to 20 cents. And Si s one day I was $29,000 ahead of the a game. Mind you, that was my money. p All I had to do was to call on my j( broker for a settlement. And that was , all the money I really needed. I get a good salary and have an economical, a sensible family. That $29,000 meant a g collegiate education for my boys and c, girls, comfort for my wife, and com- S| parative luxury for all of us. I knew a j that. I now look back with utter w i amazement upon my feelings at that I j time. My family knew what I was | u j doing, and they begged me to close Si 3 out and be content with my small ri j fortune. To all such advice I turned a lc 1 deaf ear. I was a sort of maniac. It 3 seined such an easy way to make b 2 money. The bulls must continue to . win, I thought. I was to be rich? ei j rich! My pulse was too quick and ii . there was fever in my head, but I was ecstatic. I e "Then the slump came. You re- t! f member it?remember how it came to s< j ruin the Joys of Christmas. The 8 market broke and soon I was stagger- a _ ing around like an imbecile. I was in n l2 a new game and I didn't know what to c< 2 do. I didn't know how to protect my- & . self; I had no adequate means to pro- d 1 lect myself as to margins. I just stood tl g and gaped in terror at the market and 0 e became completely demoralized. I lost h 2 my nerve, and when the market had 2 reached a point where I was only $300 c P to the good I crawled in like a whip- ^ e ped cur to my broker and closed for- ^ v ever with the cotton market. o t "And I don't get over that experiB ence. I try to think that I came out f, j $30fl to the good and I was fortunate j at that, but it's no use. Day and night p . I am thinking of that lost wealth. I j, 3 don't get as much pleasure out of sim- ^ j pie things as I used to do. That g gambling experience will hurt me till I S1 2 die. It Is a terrible thing to play with p g unseen money, my friends."?Char- a g iotte Observer. j, 3 * * CROSSING LAKE BAIKAL. Russia's Great Inland Sea In Wartime, ii Lake Baikal, the frozen barrier that Sl cuts the great Siberian line in two, is ? indeed a, remarkable body of water, S says the London Express. In length C s it would stretch from London to Edin- b' f burgh, yet its breadth is only from l< e twenty to fifty-three miles. From P where I stood to the town of Baikal. 's > on the other side, was a little over a. 15 forty miles; but It is this distance, over H - the frozen floor of which stores and h men have to be transported to the . front, that will cause the Russian gov- |j i ernment more trouble and anxiety bi f than the entire route from the Ural j" mountains to Port Arthur. The track has not yet been completed q around the end of the lake. As an S r engineer explained to me the southern end of the lake, which is the only pos- tl sible route for the line, is imbedded in tl j mountains. Sheer granite cliffs rise ^ from the surface of the water to a ^ [ height of 1,500 feet. Through these ii ^ cliffs tunnels to the number of twen- c< ty-seven are being laboriously cut, but pc in my engineer friend's opinion it will p; 1 be long before this strip of rails will a< s be opened. e During the summer two great s earn- ^ ers cross the lake with the trai.is on u board, but iii the winter the ice is ni far too thick for the Baikal or her - consort, which I saw firmly anchored h j in the ice. ti f There was a great rush for the ^ 3 sledges which awaited us. With some difficulty I secured a place in one, d< nd with all the wraps I possessed bout me started on my ride. Once ut on the lake, however, there came pon me a steady, piercing blast that jemed to penetrate my furs as If ley were so much paper. I had never suffered so Intensely om cold In my life before; indeed for ve minutes I was almost insensible, nd yet the cruel gale was at my ack, and the long lines of troops acked In their sledges met it face to ice. It was a curious spectacle, this endiss advance of the Russian reinforcelents across this arctic sea. The route as staked out by telegraph posts laced about two hundred yards apart. s we swung along at a gooa eignt illes an hour, our driver crooning to le horses an odd chant, the advancig sleighs seemed to mount Into hunreds and even thousands. In those carrying troops, six men ere crowded Into a sleigh built for iree. How they were able to endure lat terrible weather passed my unerstanding. They wore their greatDats, it Is true, but other wrapb were jw among them. Sometimes I met an empty sleigh lth Its soldier passengers tramping long by its side striving to warm lelr frozen limbs. Blue with cold and tterly miserable they seemed, and hen a Russian with whom I travled assured me that many of them rnst be badly frostbitten or even die -om exposure before they reached ie other side I could not but believe im. vn me uuiaiue utujius muveu iuc rovision and store sleighs, the majory with five horses apiece, dragging lowly forward In long lines. I saw jveral sledges with rails sticking out ehlnd them, but at that time (Feb. 5). there was no sign of any railway ack being laid across the ice. If uch a feat has been accomplished, it lust have been at a later date than as announced In the Russian press. The surface of the ice was very ir;gular and uneven. In places there ere foot wide crevasses and Assures, hile here and there the ice had risen lto hummocks, which nearly jarred le out of my sleigh. Despite the ind, there was around us a curious riving mist that hid the distances. After two and a half hours we sightd the great rest-house, of wood and ?lt and brick, that is built yearly in le middle of "the lake. A very palace ; seemed to us weary travelers. 'Not ntil after two plates of soup and some teaming cofTee could I find my legs nd feet again. Yet the poor soldiers assed it by, making no break in their jurney from shore to shore. It was with lingering regret that I >ft the hospitable... rest-house, and gain disappeared beneath my wraps, lut even the crossing of Lake Baikal omes to an end some time, and about Ix hours after I had started 1 arrived t the little town where my journey as to recommence. More troop trains and ever more met s as we passed westward. After my econd day the soldiers that they carled changed in type. They were no >nger young recruits, but the reserves -well-built, middle-aged men, who ehaved themselves as veterans should. For the first tinje I noticed .cannon, ach train having two trucks containlg one gun apiece fastened behind it. In the whole course of my journey saw no horses being hurried forward, hough I understood that there were everal thousand expected. War prices were beginning to be felt t the buffets where we halted for our leals. The peasants had long since eased to bring in fresh supplies, and the ost of necessaries steadily rose. Bread oubled, sugar and coffee trebled. At he same time I noticed in sidings the rdinary trains of commerce lying alf hidden in snowdrifts. Several Russians on the train who ame from the east of Baikal were liking very gravely about the situalon. The native tribes grind their wn corn, but the Europeans in the >wns send their grain to Moscow, rom which it returns as flour. If these flour trains are stopped rices will soon be rising famine high i eastern Siberia, Peculation and the ribery of officials will give the civilins supplies taken from the war tores; but I can well understand why tussia has sent her convicts into the rmv. She wants no spare mouths to Jed' A Hero In Politics. It has rather an odd sound, "a hero 1 politics," but I want to' tell of Just uch a hero. His name was John D. iuffman, and he lived at Bluffs, cott county. 111., says December Mclure's. A few years ago his neighors, who knew him well, elected him > the state legislature, at that time, erhaps, one of the most corrupt legilative bodies In the world. He had seat on the Democratic side of the [ouse; he seemed out of place there; e was not well dressed; his hands ere hard and rough with work; he juldn't make a speech to save his fe. Indeed, he was only a farm laorer earning $25 a month. But he it there day in and day out, listening itently, making up his mind as to le simple rights and wrongs of the nestion. and then voting right, ometimes his "No"?his voice was Iways loud enough when he voted? as the only negative on his side of le house. Once?by the word of le "leader" who offered the money? e could have had $10,000 for his vote, ut he shook his head, and when the K? v,? an hrtnOSt VOte. in tame up lie tv^vu i a sense he was an outcast; he juld not herd with the "good feliws" who were banded together for lunder; he took no part in the horselay of those around him; some even ccused him of stupidity, but no one I'ersaid that he was dishonest. Be>re the session was over, old John fuffman of Bluffs, stupid, perhaps, ncouth, unlearned, came to be a larked man. a monument of decency nd dignity of character, winning the ?spect of the corrupt men around Im, even coming to prominence in le Chicago newspaper dispatches for le very miracle of his honesty. And hen that session was over he went ack to work on the farm, having jne his duty. *