ISSUED SEMI-WEEKLY^
l. m. GKisT's sons, Publishers. } % Jamilg fetcsjajw: ^or the gromotiott c)jthe political, ?criat, gyiculturat, and Commmial jntmsts of the gtoglt. {ct1 "cgESTABLISHED
1855. YOBKVILLE, 8. C- FRIDAY, APRIL 8, 19Q4. NO. 29.
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f*V Copyright. 190.
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CHAPTER XII.
N Indiana town may lie asleep
a long while, but it always
wakes up some time, and
Plattville woke up in August,
when the Herald became a dally. It
was then that history began to be
made. The Herald printed news. I
Lad made a connection with the As sc.
ciated Press, and It was sold evemorning
at stands In every town !
?' at section of the state. Its clrcnl..
loo to celebrate me; the band was not
playing to do mc honor. Why should I
ride in the midst of a procession that
knows me not? Why should I enthrone
me in an open barouche, with
four white horses to draw it and draped
with silken flags? Since these things
were not for me, I flew to your side to
dissemble my spleen under the licensed
prattle of a cousin."
"Then who is with him?"
"The population of this portion of Indiana,
I take it."
"Oh, it's all right," said the judge,
fcaning back to speak to Helen. "Keating
and Smith and your father are to
ride in the carriage with him. You
needn't be afraid of auy of them letting
him know that H. Fisbee is a lady.
Everybody understands about that Of
course they know it's to be left to you
to break it to him how a girl has run
his paper."
The old gentleman chuckled and looked
out of the corner of his eye at his
daughter, whose expression was Inscrutable.
"1!" cried Helen. "I tell him! No
one must tell him. He need never know
It."
Briscoe reached back and patted her
cheek. "How long do you suppose he
will be here in Plattville without its
leaking out?"
"But when they kept watch over
him for months nobody told him."
"Ah," said Briscoe, "but this is different."
"No, no, no!" she exclaimed. "It
must be kept from him somehow."
"He'll know lt~by tomorrow; so you
better tell him this evening."
"This evening?"
"Yes; you'll have a good chance."
"I will?"
"He's coming to supper with us?he
?nd your father, of course, and Keating
and Bence and Boswell and Smith and
Tom Martin and Lige. We're going to
have a big time, with you and Minnie
to do the honors, and we're all coming
Into town afterward for the fireworks,
and I'll let him drive you in the phaeton.
You'll have plenty of chances to
talk it over with him and tell him all
about it."
Helen gave a little gasp. "Never!"
she cried. "Never!"
The buckboara stopped on the Herald
corner, and here and along Main
street the line of vehicles which had followed
it from the station took positions
to await the parade. The square was
almost a solid mass of bunting, and
the north entrance of the courthouse
had been decorated with streamers and
flags so as to make a sort of stand.
Hither the crowd was already streaming
and hither the procession made its
way. At intervals the gun boomed
from the station, and Sehofields' Henry
was winnowing the air with his bell.
Nobody had a better time that day than
Sehofields' Henry, except old Wilkerson,
who was with the procession.
In advance came the boys, whooping
and somersaulting, and behind them
rode a band of mounted men, sitting
their horses like cavalrymen, led by the
sheriff and his deputy and Jim Bardlock.
Then followed the Harkless club
of Amo. led by Boswell, with the magnanimous
Halloway himself marching
In the ranks, and at sight of this the
people shouted like madmen. But when
Helen's eye fell upon Halloway's fat,
rather unhappy face she felt a pang of
pity and unreasoning remorse, which
warned her that he who looks upon
politics when it is red must steel his
eyes to see many a man with the heartburn.
After the men of Amo came the
Harkless club of Gainesville, Mr.
Bence in the van with the step of a
grenadier. There followed next Mr.
Epliraim Watts, bearing a light wand
in his hand and leading a detachment
of workers from the oil field in their
stained blue overalls and blouses, and
after them came Mr. Martin and Mr.
Landis at the head of an organization
recognized in the "order of procession"
printed in the Herald as "the business
moil of Plattville." The band played in
such magnificent time that every high
stepping foot In all the line came down
with the same jubilant plunk and lifted
again with a unanimity as complete
as that of the last vote the convention
had taken that day. The leaders of the
procession set a brisk pace, and who
could have set any other kind of a pace
when on parade to the strains of such
a band playing such a tune as "A New
Coon In Town" with all its might and
main?
But as the line swung into the square
there came a moment when the tune
was ended and the musicians paused
for breath and there fell comparative
quiet. Among the ranks of the "busi
ness men" ambled Mr. Wilkerson, sing
ing at the top of his voice, and now he
could be heard distinctly enough foi
those near him to distinguish the mel
ody with which it was his intention te
favor the public:
"Glory, glory, halleluiah!
As we go marching on."
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ntleman ill
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OOTH TAHKIHGTOf*
Oiu
y <3?i McCtur? Co. , ,*i'
2, 4/ McClurt. Yhlllipj /3i Co. J |J'?
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The word9, the air, that husky voice,
recalled to the men of Carlow another
day and another procession not like this
i one. And the song Wilkerson was
singing is the one song every northern
born American knows and can sing.
The leader of the band caught the
sound, signaled to his men, twenty instruments
rose as one to twenty
mouths, the snare drum rattled, the big
drum crashed, the leader threw his
baton high over his head, and music
burst from twenty brazen throats:
"fllnrv e-lorv. halleluiah!"
Instantaneously the whole procession
began to sing the refrain, and the people
in the street and those in the
wagons and carriages and those leaning
from the windows joined with one
accord. The ringing bells caught the
time of the song, and the upper air
reverberated in the rhythm.
The Harkless club of Carlow
wheeled Into Main street, 200 strong,
with their banners and transparencies.
Lige Willett8 rode at their head, and
behind him strode William Todd and
Parker and Ross Schofield and Newt
than a week before the convention,
and"? He broke off, seeing the yellow
envelope in Meredith's hand. "Is that
a telegram for meV" His companion
gave it to him. He tore it open and 1
read the contents. They were brief
and unhappy.
Can't you do something? Can't you
come down? It begins to look the other
way. K. H.
"Tom, give me that pad and pencil," |
said the sick man. He rapidly dashed
off a note to II. Fisbee.
Sept. 5. ?.
E. Fisbee, Editor Carlow Herald:
Dear Sir?You have not acknowledged
my letter of the 2d of September by a note
(which should have reached me the following
morning) or by the alteration In
the tenor of my columns which I requested,
or by the publication of the McCune
papers which I directed. In this I
hold you grossly at fault. If you have a
conscientious reason for refusing to carry
out my request it should have been communicated
to me at once, as should the
fact?if such be the case?that you are a
personal (or impersonal, If you like) friend
of Mr. Rodney McCune. Whatever the motive
which prevents you from operating my
paper as I direct, I should have been informed
of It. This is a matter vital to the
interests of our community, and you have
hitherto shown yourself too alert in accepting
my slightest suggestion for me to
construe this failure as negligence.
You will receive this letter by 7 this
evening by special delivery. You will
print the facts concerning McCune in tomorrow
morning's paper.
I am well aware of the obligations under
which your extreme efficiency and
your thoughtfulness in many matters
have placed me. It is to you I owe my
unearned profits from the transaction in
oil. and It is to you I owe the Herald's
extraordinary present circulation, growth
of power and influence. That power is
o?til i,n,i..r mv direction and Is an added
responsibility which shall not be misapplied.
Are you sorry for McCune? I warned I
him long ago that the papers you hold (
would be published If he ever tried to re- (
turn to political life, and he is deliberately
counting on my physical .weakness and
absence. Let him rely upon it?I am not
so weak as he thinks. I am sorry for him
from the bottom of my heart, but the
Herald is not.
You need not reply by letter. Tomorrow's
issue answers for you. Until I have
received a copy I withhold my Judgment.
JOHN HARKLESS.
Tomorrow's issue?tlmt fateful print
ou which depended John Ilarkless'
opinion of H. Fisbee's integrity?contained
an editorial addressed to the
delegates of the convention, warning
them to act for the vital interest of the
community and declaring that the opportunity
to be given them in the present
convention was a rare one, a singular
piece of good fortune indeed.
They were to have a chance to vote for
a man who had won the love and respect
of every person in the districtone
who had suffered for his championship
of righteousness; one whom even ,
his few political enemies confessed
they held in personal affection and es- '
teem; one who had been the inspiration
of a new era; one whose life had been
helpfulness, whose hand had reached
out to every struggler and unfortunate;
a man who had met and faced danger
for the sake of others; one who lived
onder a threat for years, and who had
been almost overborne in the fulfillment
of that threat, but who would live to
see the sun shine on his triumph, the
tribute the convention would bring him
as a gift from a community that loved
him. His name needed not to be told.
It was on every lip that morning and
in every heart.
Tom was eagerly watching his com
; panion as be read. Harkless fell back
i on the pillows with a drawn face, and
for a moment he laid his thin hand
over his eyes in a gesture of intense
1 pain.
"What is it?" Meredith said quickly.
! "Give me the pad, please."
"What is it, boy?"
1 The other's teeth snapped together.
1 "What is it?" he cried. "What is it?
! It's treachery, and the worst I ever
knew. Not a word of the accusation T
demanded?lying praises instead! Read
' that editorial?there, there!" He struck
the page with the back of his hand and
' threw the paper to Meredith. "Read
that miserable He! 'One who has won
' the love and respect of every person in
! the district!' 'One who has suffered
for his championship of righteousness!'
Righteousness! Save the mark!"
"What does it mean?"
"Mean! It means McCune, Rod McCune.
'who lias lived under a threat
' for years'?my threat. I swore I would
print mm out or Indiana lr ne ever
raised his head again, and he knew I
could.. 'Almos?_ everbprne in the ful
r?nraii
I ^
L >
"What is ttf" h cried.
Bllment of that tbrfeat'?almost! It's a
black scheme, and I see It now. This
man came to Plattville and went on the
Herald for nothing In the world but
this. It's McCune's hand all along. He
daren't name him even now, the coward!
The trick lies between McCune
and young Kisbee?the old man li# innocent.
Give me the pad. Not almost
overborne. There are three good days
to work In, and If Rod McCune sees
congress it will be in his next incarnation."
He rapidly scribbled a few lines on
the pad and threw the sheets to Mereiith.
"Get those telegrams to the Western
Union office in a rush, please. Read
them first."
With wide eyes Tom read them. One
was to Warren Smith:
TaWe possession Herald. This Is your
authority. Publish McCune papers, so
labeled, which H. Flsbee will hand you.
Beat McCune. JOHN HARKLESS.
The second was addressed to H. Flsbee:
You are relieved from the cares of editorship.
You will turn over the management
of the Herald to Warren Smith.
You will give him the McCune papers. If
you* do not or if you destroy them you
cannot hide where I shall not find you.
JOHN HARKLESS.
CHAPTER XIII.
ERY early in the morning a
messenger boy stumbled up
the front steps of Meredith's
house and banded
the colored servant four yellow envelopes,
night messages. The man
carried them upstairs, left three with
his master's guest, then knocked on
Meredith's door till a response assured
him that the occupant was
awake and slid the fourth envelope
- -1 1a? nnifa
under IXie UUUl. .ueicuuu m.r 4U1?
without motion for several minutes,
sleepily watching the yellow rhomboid
in the crevice. It was a hateful looking
thing to mix itself in with a pleasant
dream and insist on being read, but
after a while he climbed groaningly out
of bed and perused the message with
heavy eyes, still half asleep. He read it
twice before it penetrated.
Suppress all newspapers today. Convention
meets at 11. If we succeed, a
delegation will come to Rouen this afternoon.
They will come. HELEN.
Tom rubbed his sticky eyelids and
shook his head violently in a Spartan
effort to rouse himself, but what more
effectively performed the task for him
were certain sounds that issued from
Harkiess' room across the hall. For
some minutes Meredith had beeu dully
conscious of a rustle and stir in the
invalid's chamber, and he began to
realize that no mere tossing upon a
bed would account for a noise that
reached him across a wide hall and
through two closed doors of thick walnut.
Suddenly he heard a quick, heavy
tfoo/i ehr>H in Hnrlrlpss' room, and a
resounding bang as some heavy object
struck the floor. The doctor was not
to come till evening. The servant had
gone downstairs. Who in the sick
man's room wore shoes? He rushed
across the hull in his pajamas and
threw open the unlocked door.
The bed was disarranged and vacant
Ilarkless, fully dressed, was
standing iu the middle of the floor
hurling garments at a small trunk.
The horrified Meredith stood for a second
bleached and speechless; then he
rushed upon his friend and seized him
with both hands.
"Mad. by heaven! Mad!"
"Let go of me, Tom!"
"Lunatic! Lunatic!"
"Don't stop me one instant!"
Meredith tried to force him toward
the bed. "No; get back to bed. You're
delirious, boy!"
"Delirious nothing! I'm a well
man."
"Go to bed! Go to bed!"
Harklcss set him out of the way
with one arm. "To bed!" he cried.
"I'm going to Plattville!"
Meredith wrung his bands. "The
doctor"?
"Doctor be hanged!"
"What in the name of all that's terrible
is the matter, John?"
His companion slung a light overcoat,
unfolded, on the overflowing, misshapen
bundle of clothes that lay in
the trunk, then he jumped on the lid
with both feet and kicked the hasp into
the lock, while u very elegantly laundered
cuff and shirt sleeve dangled out
from under the fastened lid. "I haven't
one second to talk, Tom; I have eighteen
minutes to catch the express. It's
more than a mile to the station, and
the train leaves here at 0:02. I get
there at 10:47. Telephone a cab for
me, please, or tell me the number. I
don't want to stop to hunt It up."
Meredith looked him in the eyes. In
the pupils of Ilarkless flared a fierce
light. His cheeks were reddened with
an angry, healthy glow, and his teeth
were clinched till the line of his jaw
stood out like that of an embattled
athlete. Ills brow was dark, his chest
was thrown out, and he took deep,
<iuick breaths,. Uis_ shoulders were
squared, and" In spite of his thinness
they looked massy. Lethargy or malaria,
or both?whatever his ailment? _
it was gone. He was six feet of hot
wrath and cold resolution.
Tom said, "You are going?" _
"Yes," he answered quietly, "I am
going."
"Then I will go with you."
"Thank you, Tom," said Hurkless Ir
simply. g(
Meredith ran into his room, pressed G
an electric button and begun to dive ?
into his clothes with a panting rapidity A
astonishingly foreign to his desire. The p<
colored man aDDeared in the doorway. c<
"The cart, Jim!" shouted his master, lr
"We want it like lightning. Tell the tt
cook to give Mr. Harkless his breakfast
in a hurry. Set a cup of coffee on the m
table by the front door for me. Run! b<
We've got to catch a train. That will ci
be quicker than any cab," he explained m
to Harkless. "We'll break the ordi- fii
nance against 'fast driving getting S
down there." "<
-Ten minutes later the cart swept a
away from the house at a gait that
pained the respectable neighborhood, th
The big horse plunged through the air, oi
his ears laid hat toward his tali. The te
cart careened sickenlngly, and the face fc
of the servant clutching at the rail in T
the rear was smeared with pallor as to
they pirouetted around curves on one it
wheel. To him it seemed they skirted w
the corners and death simultaneously, b;
and the speed of their going made a lo
strong wind in their faces. c<
Harkless leaned forward. "Can yon m
iaake it a little faster, Tom?" he said, w
They dashed up to the station amid bi
Ihe cries of people flying to the walls 01
for safety. The two gentlemen leaped pi
from the cart, bore down upon the k<
ticket office, stormed at the agent and bl
ran madly at the gates, flourishing "1
their passports. The official on duty fl<
eyed them wearily. "Been gone, two fli
minutes," he remarked with a peace- d<
able yawn. tt
Harklesd stamped bis foot on the ce- C1
ment dags; then he stood stock still, S1
gazing at the empty tracks, but Mere- tt
dith turned to him. smiling. "Won't It
keep?" he asked. hi
"Yes, It will keep," John answered. sc
"Part of It may have to keep till elec- tt
tion day, but some of it I will settle 01
before night. And that," he cried be- tt
tween his teeth, "and that is the part w
of it in regard to young Flsbee!" a(
"Oh, it's about H. Fisbee, is it?" d(
"Yes, it's H. Fisbee." al
"Well, we might as well go up and fe
see what the doctor thinks of you; c(
there's no train."
"I don't want to see a doctor again fr
ever?as long as I live. I'm as well as ^
anybody." w
Tom burst out laughing and clapped dl
his companion lightly on the shoulder, tJ.
his eyes dancing with pleasure. "Upon tf.
my soul," he cried, "I believe you are.
A miracle wrought by the witch wand
of Indignation! That's rather against
tradition, isn't it? Well, let's take a
drive." Ir
"Meredith," said the other, turning to
him gravely, "you may think me a
fool if you will, and it's likely I am, ^
but I don't leave this station except by 0
train. I've only two days to work in.
|F3j # 11
I-:- *??I
Uarhlcss, fully dressed, was standing In P1
the middle of the floor. cc
and every minute lessens our chances pJ
to beat McOune. and I have to begin by
wasting time on a tussle with a traitor. al
There's another traiu at 11:55; 1 don't el
take any chances on missing that oue."
"Well, well," laughed bis friend, push- ec
ing him good humoredly toward a door
by a red and white striped pillar. dl
"we'll wait here if you like. But at n<
least go in there and get a shave; it's a P<
clean shop. You want to look your best ai
if you are going down to fight H. FIs- h:
bee." sx
"Take these, then, and you will understand."
said Ilarkless, and he thrust er
his three telegrams of the morning sa
iuto Tom's hand and disappeared Into fr
the barber shop. When he was gone cl
Meredith went to the telegraph office T
in the station and sent a line over the tli
wires to Helen: "Keep your delegation a*
at lioiue. lie's coming on the 11:55." ra
Then he read the three telegrams ct
IlarUless had given him. They were tt
all from Piattvilie. cl
Sorry cannot oblige. Present incumbent "
tenacious. Delicate matter. No hope for
K. H. But don't worry. Everything all 5,
right. WARREN SMITH. H
Harkless, if you have the strength to
walk, come down before the convention.
Get here by 10:47. Looks bad. Come If It *
kills you. K. H. of
You Intrusted me with sole responsible "<
ity for all matters pertaining to Herald,
Declared yourself mere spectator. Does
this permit your Interfering with my pol- w
T-v -.r ? A*. Hf
Icy lor tne paper ; j~>ecnne iu tuusiun ?
any proposition to relieve me of my du- b(
ties without proper warning and allow- ance
of time. Forced to disregard all suggestions
as to policy, which, by your own n'
instructions, is entirely my affair and ol
must be carried out as 1 direct tl
H. FISBEE.
TO BE CONTINUED. p,
ai
Xti' Every year more than five hundred n<
thousand Japanese youths qualify by th
age for the regular military service. P<
IftisicfHanrous grading.
FAMOUS LONDON FORGERS.
hey Operated For Years and Secured
Many Millions.
Schmidt, the man recently arrested
i London for a series of clever forerles
upon the Bank of England, is a
erman-American, and has a police
scord of great length in this country,
s a matter of fact, the "yellow paers"
of the East have boomed him
>nsiderably as the "greatest forger
t the history of the world," and all
mt sort of thing.
But though Schmidt Is admittedly a
larvelously clever scamp, he Is not to
e compared to some of his great
-Imlnal predecessors. "Jim the Penlan"
would have declined to soil his
ngers with small notes like those that
chmldt forged, and Fauntleroy and
Did Patch" would ' ave deemed him
bungler.
James Saward, better known as "Jim
le Penman," was a curious Instance
f v.arped mind. He came of good
Lmlly, distinguished himself at Ox>rd,
and finally became a barrister,
hose who knew him best said his
nowledge of law and his forensic ablly
would have carried him to the
oolsack. But Saward was a criminal
V Instinct, and naturally sought the
west associates. He became a reilver
of stolen goods?not a vulgar
lelter down of stolen watches. Saard
bought nothing but paper. If a
urglar stole a check book from a safe,
a pickpocket found checks In a
jrse, they would find a ready marit
with "Jim the Penman." Then the
ank checks would be filled up, and
Urn the Penman" would take an of:e,
and advertise for a clerk. The
rst work the innocent clerk was set to
> was to cash the forged checks at
le banks. Confederates followed the
erk to the bank, and If there was the
lghtest difficulty hurried back to give
arnK fr\rcrar U'fl miner.
For twenty years Saward carried on
Is fraudulent business. His unconsious
accomplices were arrested, but
le police were never able to lay hands
1 the master mind at the back of all
le crimes. It Is estimated that Saard
made many thousands a year?
1 of which he spent In gambling and
;bauchery. His final detection came
sout In this way: One of his conderates
was working on his own ac>unt
at Yarmouth, and made a lite
slip In connection with some bank
aud. He did not think the bank ofiials
suspected him, but wrote to Saard
asking him how to get out of the
fficulty. Unhappily for them both,
le bank did suspect something, and
le confederate was arrested. In his
jcket was found an elaborate letter
advice from Saward dealing with
le law on the subject, and telling his
lend what to do.
On the strength of this the police
lddenly arrested Saward, and found
irged checks upon him. One or two
his accomplices turned Queen's
'Idence and at the age of fifty-eight
ie great "Jim the Penman" was, for
le first time, convicted. He was senneed
to transportation for life. As
ie of his biographers observes, "At
1 events, he had a long run for his
oney."
"Old Patch," as one Charles Price
as called, started his criminal career
i a bank note forger, and might have
irved as an admirable illustration to
book on "Self Help." He made his
,vn paper, engraved his own plates;
anufactured his own ink, and printed
is own notes?all with his own unald1
hands. In addition, he used to disjse
of his home-made notes himself,
id to do so with due caution he had
iree establishments. In one he was
le respectable married Mr. Price, in
lother abode he lived with a mistress
s Mr. Powell, and from his third
dging, which constantly changed, he
d his actual business. He was a perct
artist as regards disguise, and one
his favorite roles was to pretend to
: a feeble old man, with a green patch
,'er one eye?hence his popular name
! "Old Patch." In this disguise he
issed six forged ?50 notes on a gro>r,
and then humorouslv. in his caicity
as the respectable Mr. Price, injced
his victim to bring an action
jainst the Bank of England to recov
the value of the notes.
Another little fraud of Price's show1
that he possessed a keen sense of
in. In disguise he called on a Lonin
merchant and made some busijss
proposals. Afterward in his pro;r
person he called on the merchant
id warned him that the man who
id called previously was a dangerous
vindler. Next time the supposed
vindler called the merchant threatied
to eive him into custody. The
vindler pretended to be dreadfully
ightened, and offered to pay the merlant
?500 if he were allowed to go.
he merchant jumped at the offer, and
le rascal produced a ? 1,000 note, and
iked for change. Instead of Instantly
lising his price to ?1,000, as a practiil
business man should have done,
le merchant, with Incredible fatuity,
langed the note. Next day he found
to be a forged one.
However, most of "Old Patch's"
asiness was done with lottery offices,
e pretended to be an Indian nabob,
id hired a boy in livery to wait on him.
he boy was sent to all the lottery
flees with large notes to buy tickets.
31d Patch" saw the boy off, followed
im In another disguise, and if there
as no trouble at the office slipped
lck to his lodgings to wait for the
jy's return with the change. The
irged notes in circulation became so
umerous that the Bank of England
Tered a special reward for the detecon
of the gang of forgers.
Finally a forged note was traced to
owell (Price In his second disguise),
id as the Bow street runners could
)t find him they arrested Price on
le suspicion of being an associate of
swell's. So good were his disguises
that for some days after his arrest it
was never suspected that Powell and
Price were identical. On Mr. Price's
person were found a large number of
notes and a considerable quantity of
white tissue paper. When he was asked
If he used the tissue paper to print
his notes on, with a flash of humor the
ereat foreer renlled that he Durchased
It to make air-balloons for his children.
Unfortunately, Mr. Price never
came to trial. He was naturally a
modest man, with an aversion to publicity,
so he hanged himself to an ingenious
arrangement of hat hooks and
gimlets he had attached to his cell
door. He was said to have secured by
his forgeries upwards of ?200,000 ($1,000,000),
but no trace of his gain could
be found at his death. It was believed
that he had buried his treasure, and
that the secret of his hiding place had
died with him.
Henry Fauntleroy, the banker, whose
fate created such a sensation eighty
years ago, was a different type of criminal.
He was a son of a highly respected
London banker, and at an early
age succeeded to his father's business.
In his first few years of business the
banking establishment was unfortu- ,
nate. They lost ?170,000 through some
great bankruptcies in the building
trade. Then Fauntleroy's partner died,
and ?100,000 had to be paid to his
heirs for their share in the business.
To make up for this deficiency in capital
Fauntleroy began a huge system
of forgery. He forged powers of attorneys
to sell stock he held in trust
tnr fHonfq CrflHnallv his dishonest
proceedings grew till at last he had
sold ?170,000 of clients' securities, and
was paying ?16,000 a year Interest on
principal which had no existence. ,
During the ten years he carried on his
frauds he was often on the verge of (
detection. |
One lady, who had ?13,000 In Fauntleroy's
hands, wrote to her London
agent to sell out her stock. He turned
to the list of stockholders at the
Bank of England, and to his surprise
found that her name was not among ,
them. He hurried to Fauntleroy for
an explanation. The banker listened
to him quietly, and then, with notable
presence of mind, said: "She gave me
Instructions to sell out her stock, too.
Here is the money," and he opened the i
drawer and took out ?13,000 In exchequer
bills. The agent naturally
thought that the good Mr. Fauntleroy :
was In the right, and in spite of his (
client's protests that she had given i
Fauntleroy no orders to sell out her i
stock, he thought that the whole mat- ;
ter was caused by the unbusiness-like <
habits of women. On another occa
sion, while a gentleman was talking to
him in his office, Fauntleroy actually
forged the man's name to a deed,
and, taking It out to his clerks with
the ink still wet on it, observed that
"Mr. has just signed this."
The time came, however, when
Fauntleroy could not meet the demands
upon him, and the whole superstructure
of his forgeries fell to the
ground. In vain was it that divines
and great city merchants spoke of the i
high moral character of the forger, i
Incidentally it was revealed that the
virtuous Mr. Fauntleroy had been as
two-faced in his private life as in his
business life. He had not been averse
to the pleasures of the world, and had
been in the habit of entertaining luxuriously
a circle of boon companions.
Thereby hangs a tale. One of these
choice spirits accompanied Fauntleroy
to the scaffold, and at the last moment,
when the noose was actually ad- (
justed round his friend's neck, appeal- ,
ed to him to tell where he had procured
some choice curacoa from. But
the banker preferred to take his important
secret with him.?Kansas City
Independent.
Locomotives While You Wait.
There is a very good story told of
a British master mechanic who was
sent over to buy some American locomotives.
because the home shop could
not get them out In time. He was
courteously received at Baldwin's,
where locomotives had been built for
nearly every railway in the worlfl, except
those in England. The Briton
was in haste. Time was to be an element
of any contract: the quicker the
better and a big premium for haste.
The partners reflected that there were
some locomotives under way. which
the visitor had already seen and wished
duplicated, and that the Americans
who had ordered them would be willing
to waive claims, seeing that others
could be completed for them on time.
The Briton became impatient for a
lefinite statement as to the time when
delivery aboard ship would commence.
Finally one of the partners remarked:
"We are very anxious to oblige you in
every way possible and will hasten
the work, but we cannot perform miracles.
The best we can do is to begin
deliveries one week from tomorrow."
The Briton fell in a dead faint.
The following equally good story the
firm vouches for: When Gen. Kitchener
was fighting his way southward,
Inch by inch, into the Soudan, his chief
problem was that of transportation.
To solve this he constructed the famous
strategic railway. All the material
was promptly available in Great
Britain except the locomotives and
bridges. To construct these English
builders wanted so much time that it
would have disturbed his whole plan
of campaign. Philadelphians built the
Atbara bridge as If by magic, and to
Philadelphia he sent for locomotives.
The Baldwins undertook to do the
work in twelve weeks, a considerably
less number than the months required
by British bidders and were offered a
handsome bonus for any gain in time.
The war department cabled that an inspector
had sailed that day to watch
the construction. The reply was sent
that they were eompietea, tniny-aeveu
days ahead of time. Ten days later I
the astonished inspector walked in to '
find his trip had caused an unneces- I
sary delay in delivery. The firm used i
the bonus for anticipated delivery in I
sending one of its bright young men <
with the locomotives to superintend 1
their erection, and to watch carefully 1
their initial operations.?Joseph M. I
Rogers in -Booklovers* Magazine. 1
TO MAKE A TOWN GROW.
A Set of Rules Whose Efficscy Is
Guaranteed.
Mr. S. A. Flshburn, secretary of the
Commercial club of Dallas, Texas, has
prepared a set of rules for making a
town grow. He guarantees their efficacy.
Here they are:
1. Join no organizations looking to
the upbuilding of your town. This will
prove an encouragement to those who
give their time and money to sustain
such organizations.
2. Impugn the motives of those who
Join and charge them with a desire
to advertise themselves. This Inspires
patriotic men to work all the harder
for the public good.
3. Pour cold water on every new
home enterprise, predict its early failure,
and contribute to that end by
patronizing its rivals in other towns.
This will encourage others to put their
money in home enterprises.
4. When a committee calls on you
for a contribution to any good cause,
act like a sore-headed bear, and yield
up what you do give as begrudgingly
as possible. This lightens the burdens
of the committeemen and sends them
on their way rejoicing in their work
of love.
5. When strangers visit your town
let them wander around alone and enlighten
themselves by reading the signs
and pumping the professional loafer.
They will carry away a delightful
remembrance of their visit and advertise
the town wherever they go.
6. "Cuss out" your public officials
(to their backs, of course) and accuse"
them of everything from petty larceny
to high treason, no matter whether you
can substantiate your charges or not
This will prove a keen incentive to the
complete fulfillment of their official obligations.
7. Whenever your town paper differs
in the slightest with your Ideas of
public policy, declqgg that It has been
bought up and proritfitly cut off your
patronage. The editor*,will turn the
other cheek and redouble ^lls efforts
In behalf of the towntfcd^^ "good
people." ...
8. Oppose any enterprise which is
not In exact accordance with your own
Ideas. This will be conducive to that
spirit of concession and unity which is
necessary to progress.
9. Give sparingly, if at all, to movements
for the general good of the town,
even if you are the largest property
Dwner in it. This will spur on to greater
exertions the public spirited citizens
your town now has and induce the
coming of others.
10. Observe these rules closely and
there can be no doubt about the
growth of your town. It will grow and
continue to grow?up in weeds?until
It shall ultimately become a fit hablta- *
Hon alone for bats and owls.
We believe that some of our people
already understand and employ the
principles here formulated but they
are not enough to make the system
completely effective. A wider employment
of the rules will accomplish
something definite. Now is the time
to organize.?Charleston Evening Post
"AS BOLD AS A LION."
Rather Say Bold as a Partridge If
You Would be Exact.
The only explanation of the adage,
"As bold as a lion," Is that the lion's
magnificent, muscular body, his noble
head, great mane, the fact that he is
a wild beast and?still more probably?his
deep throated roar that
rounds so extraordinarily bold, have
made him feared for generations. But
the lion belongs to the family of cats
and Is not bold. To those who know
best he Is not brave even In the hour
of danger. The lioness, who Is smaller,
less terrible to look upon and is
without a mane, is brave in defense
of her young, but she, too, is not
bold. She is merely bolder than the
lion. In comparison with any animal
that can face danger and fight "fair"
the lion is a coward. To prove it let
us see for a moment how it is that
the lion chooses to hunt his prey.
The lion does not hunt. In the
reeds and grasses near some pool in
the jungle he lies hidden where he
knows that other animals will go to
drink. Catlike, he leaps upon his
victim, striking it with his powerful
paws. Then his great paws break the
neck of the unfortunate creature he
bias taken by surprise, and the lion
boldly carries off the carcass to devour
It where he will. The folk who
live on the outskirts of Jungles in the
lion's country sometimes lose their
sheep and goats when a hungry lion
ran muster courage to go near a human
habitation in his search for food.
He goes at night and stealthily. Who
knows but that his heart goes pit-apat
and his big limbs tremble at every
sudden noise? The natives of India
ind of Africa know, however, that
they can frighten away a thieving lion
py fire and torches. If cornered and
forced to fight he will do battle savigely,
but he doesn't seek an open
light, and any traveler will tell you
that as a rule the "king of beasts"
polts on sighting a man.
To be as bold as a partridge?as
prave, unselfish, daring, heroic, as a
partridge?is something one might be
proud to boast. No lion defends its
foung with the courage of a partridge.
The lioness at bay will turn in defense
of her cubs, will fight the enemy,
ivill spring at him furiously; the partridge
will leave its little ones quite
unprotected in the nest, or wherever
they may be in hiding, and will offer
herself to spare them. It is not the
jnthinking heroism of excitement. The
bird knows what she is doing and the
ianger. She schemes to attract attention
to herself, but she manages to
ead the dogs on> and she escapes.
We at least have never heard anything
In the life history of the partridge so
?ad as that the mother bird has been
taken at that supreme moment. Unier
the very nose of the dogs she
will flutter and limp, with drooping
wing, to deceive them into the belief
that she is lamed and cannot fly.?
Mew York Mail.
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