Evening Star Newspaper, February 3, 1894, Page 20

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 3, 1894—-TWENTY PAGES. i: HE AYE ARAL a 1p ea fi “COME,” SAID KENT,“I WILL SHOW YOU MY POSSESSIONS. THE GREAT LARAN REBELLION ee ae SSE WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY NYM CRINKLE. (Copyrighted. 1894.) CHAPTER Iv. APORT MARVEL- ed at the particular- ity with which the escape had been planned and at the address of Kent in hoodwinking the gov- ernor while conspir- h\ ing to free his pris- ;oner. Without rea- {’ soning upon the mat- ter deeply he set oP about following out -— © the program laid = down for him, and his methodical training enabled him to do it carefully. Laport was over fifty-five, but he was made of tough vital material, and | the prospect of liberty stirred all his old sagacity. additional instructions and tools, and left, ostensibly’ for New York, at noon, much to the regret of the ixtels. 4 Kent's provision had been unerring with | regard to Laport, but he made one or two miscalculations about his own movements, and as the governor’s special efforts were directed to his capture, stimulated, no doubt, by the chagrin on having been so | successfully duped (he having learned that his guest was unauthorized and unknown | im the New York newspaper office), one of | the best detectives in the country got upon | his track and followed him to Louisville, Ky., when the trail was a week old. From this point he traced him into western Ten- nessee, and there the pursuit ended. Kent had disappeared from the surface of the | earth. What is remarkable about this part ! of the hunt is that nothing occurred pub- licly to awaken the suspicion that Bench and Kent were the same person. Laport’s escape from the prison was ef- fected with but slight variations as it had been planned for him, and there was noth- | ing in his methodical execution of the plan but a grim and uneventful determination, accompanied by a silent apprehension, un- til he arrived, as arranged, at the old mill, and there the whole character of the pro- | Kent saw him for the last time | in prison on Friday morning; gave him his| 7 ted with a flowing gray wig and gold glasses, a pair of silk stockings and ridti boots with spurs, a field glass thrown ov his shoulder and rouge given to his {, and when F held up a little mirror b fore his eyes, Laport saw himself tran formed into a comfortable well-to-do gov ernor with a florid face that indicated living. “Excuse me, sah,” mired his work. ‘You'll hav’ to sojer up; jess frow out your bress and put yer shoulders back. Yer got a bad sag in yer sald Fan, as he « _| him up. who droye him could see sticking out of the | brush half a mile up the rocks was the un- painted roof of a small frame house. The traveler got out, stamped his feet as if he was cramped by long riding, gave the negro’ a two-dollar bill, and began climbing the rocky bank. It was Laport. He sat down on the doorstep of the house somewhat winded by the climb and looked about him. ‘The prospect to the east and north was open, revealing what appeared to be a desolate wilderness of rocks and | forests, with here and there the blue peaks of the distant mountains showing between. While he sat there the door opened; a man whom he did not recognize appeared aad | spoke to him familiarly. } “Come inside, professor—you can rest! yourself much betier indoors.” He looked at the speaker. It was Kent, but save for something in the tone of his | voice, Laport did not know him. He ap-| peared broader and heavier and older. de considerately assisted Laport tu rise, saying: I've been waiting breakfast or | you. You may dismiss further anxict Your troubles ure ended. You must be hu gry after your long rid Once inside t huuse, table presented itself and the men sat down. | “Let us,” said Kent, “avoid the usuai for-| malities. Explanaiions will prepare the Way to rest. You are naturally ama What has taken place, and auxtou know the motives of my action, I will pro- ceed at once to relieve your mind and re-! plenish your system. Let me adviss you to @rink coffee—it is a necessary prophylactic in this place.” | He called to a servant, who came in from the one other apartment and broagit the | meal. Laport looked on with expectiney and was silent, talked. ve been most cruelly wronged,” “You are not guilty of murder, Was not your intention. Society the world a genius and locked | You are at present, and so lorg as| | you stay here, beyond the reach of society. | I do not intend to interfere with your lib- erty. [ shall make you a business propo- backbone. Der duds ain't made for it. Jess one more p'int-good nuff, if yer can hold him dar.” Fan ran his eye over the details and look- ed at a little watch that he carried in his vest pocket. Laport saw that it was e actly like the one Kent had given him and that the woman had exhibited while he was on the millstone. Indeed, it reminded the servant to replace in Laport’s vest pocket the timepiece that Kent had given him. He did this with the remark: “Dat’s de gen- eral’s time. T’other one’s for to make a gallus show.” The wisguise. A moment later he had gathered up all the evidences of his work 4nd summoned the lady who appeared to be his mist-ess. She came in flushed, as if she had been riding, looked at Laport critically and said: “You are Dr. Samuel Franklin of Cin- cinnati, and [ am your daughter. You are to assume, to the best your ability, manner of a rather peremptory but hearted parent. You can scold me for my extravagance a little if you like. You are to carry this roll of bills and when culled upon pay our expenses. You are take this little check book and draw your check as I direct. Further directions I can give you as we journey. The horses ure at the door.” ceedings changed as if by magic, and be- gan to wear the aspect of a sixteenth cen- tury’ romance. While yet some fifty feet away from the mill and hidden in the brush, he listened and distinctly heard female voices of mer- Fiment coming from the other side. His heart sank. Some picnicking party had taken possessign of the secluded retreat and cut off his last chance. There had been no pro- vision for this contingency in Kent's plan. While Laport stood listening to the bursts of laughter and subdued screams that min- gled with the voices of men in some kind of sport, he distinctly heard some one singing the strains of “Home, Sweet Home,” in a clear soprano. It might be one of those fatal coincidences, for the air was one that anybody would be apt to warble. He con- sidered a moment, and determined to take the risk. Working his way through the thickets, he came out on the overgrown bank where the mill stood and went deliberately round to the side from which the voices proceeded. Hie had scarcely turned the corner of the , mill before he found himself in full view of @ party of ladies and gentlemen who had evidently rendezvoused here for a lunch. Their horses were tied to the neighboring trees; a white cloth was spread upon the grass; a colored servant was opening wine. They were elegantly dressed, and were un- mistakably people of means and ieisure tak- ing an outing. At the same moment Laport saw, pro- truding from the grass almost at his feet, the circular form of an old millstone, and, with a feeling of helplessness, he sat down upon it. A minute had not passed when he was aware that some one was approaching him. it was a woman. She had left the group immediately and was standing very near him. He looked at her with the greatest amount of interest and suspense. She was handsomely and jauntily dressed in a rid- ing habit and appeared to be at least thirty years of age. Her whole bearing was easy, but dignified. Her handsome oval face was expressive of determination, softened by sensibility. She carried a riding whip. “You are late, professor,” she said, lock- ing at her watch, “and have kept us wait- ing. Did you meet any one after you left the stile?” “Yes, I did,” answered Laport. “I met a woman in the wood road t town with = basket, and she regarded me aus- nity hen we have no time to lose,” said the woman, calmiy. “These peopie are ail friends. You are to change your garments | immediately. My servant will help you. Explanations and further directions must Wait.” She called the negro servant and said to bim: “Now, then, ran, be as quick as you ean. We are fifteen minutes late.” “This way, professah,” said the servant, With a grin, as he pointed to the old mill. Laport, without further words, made a bow and followed the negro into the di- lapidated structure. Here, in one of the re- cesses where there remained a clear space and a flooring, there was a hamper such as is used at picnics. There were one or two plates and a napkin conspicuous on its strapped lid. The negro brushed them away and hurriedly tore open the basket. It was packed tightly and carefully with a com- plete outnt of clothes, which the man lifted out and spread in a pile upon a clean news- paper. Laport was watching him with €urious interest. “Exeuse me, sah,” said the servant, “you | ain't got no ti You got to git dem duds of lively. T’se goin’ to dress you. Take “em off—take ‘em off—I'se got to put ‘em in_dis yere wicker works.” Thus recalled to the urgency of the mo- ment Laport began at once to divest him-} self of the disguise he wore. As fast as he | relieved himseif of his clothing, the negro | pPiaced it i the hamper, and when it was | full he excused himself and carried it away. | He was not gone more than five min-| utes, 1 when he came back he was anded. What he did with it La- t knew. But even then he had tive feeling that its complete de- | struction or effectual hiding had been pro- Vided for. Fan then proceeded to dress him in the butatthesame time the of Laport, he could not t the systematic provision mad: a thorough ard of appear: e linen, studs, sle buttons, finger chain, had not been forgotten. ickly dressed in a handsome suit d, naculate vest and black hat with a broad brim. H. In spite of the | shaved with marvelous dexterity, fit- Five minutes later Laport was on the back of a handsome horse, riding by the side of a jaunty and spirited companion. Immediately behind them rode three others, who made up the group. The way for some distance was across fields, but presently they came into one of those grass-grown lanes that divide farms, and a little later struck a common country highway run- ning southwest. Not a word was spoken by Laport’s companion for a mile or two except an occasional direction as to speed. But after an hour’s ride they came to a group of houses, when she said: “It is necessary that we show ourselves here. You are to preserve the air of the father of the family—that ts all. At the largest of the houses the party drew up and asked for a drink of water of a man at the dcor. While it was being served Laport remained in the road—the rest drew up chatteringly at the door and managed adroitly to tell the man how they had been disappointed in their ride and were hurrying back to Shirleyville. Some questions were also asked about better roads, and then, with flippant jests, some ‘coin was flung to the man and they started off again. It was now half-past 3 o'clock and a ride of half an hour brought them to an intersecting and evidentiy not much traveled road. “We turn south,” said La port’s companion. “The rest go on to Shir- leyville. Do you understand? There is no telegraph on our rout. The moment they were in the new road she said: shall have to ask you to make the best time you can for the next five miles, unti! we come to another highway. Your horse has a good gait—iet him have his head." She then struck her animal and Laport followed her. The pace was a painful one, for he no longer had the suppleness of youth. But determination supplied him with endurance, and they rode at a rapid pace through an uninhabited tract, and he was much relieved when they turned once more into a well-traveled road that ran in a westerly direction, and his companion “a: “You can take it easy now. We'll walk our horses here and let them dry. We are safe. If you afe pursued the scent will lead to Shirley ville.”” She drew up by his side as she spoke. “I can now tell yo she said, “what your route will be. We shall stop for the night at a hotel in Charlotte. it is ten miles farther on. You will pay our bill in the morning with a check Which the landlord will cash, because I have already cashed the two which Mr. Kent got you to sign, and the landlord knows they are good. There is a branch railroad running from Charlotte to Penkanky—thirty miles west. We shall succeed in the morning in getting off with our horses on a trip to the Pen- kanky glen. The horses will go on to Bran- ken fora, whére they will be taken care of, they having been obtained there. At the Penkanky House we give out that we are going to stop with a friend in town and leave the hotel in the evening. You will thei have to walk three miles to reach a trunk line railroad. If we catch an express train we shall m likely be in Wheeling just six hours ahead of a dispatch.” “But if we do not?” asked Laport, with considerably more curiosity than apprehen- In that case we shall have to depend on the discrepancy between the description and the appearance. The probability is that the pursuit will be thrown off at Shirleyville. There is no means of knowing that we left the party until the pursuers ch the party. They will then have to retrace their steps. The landiord at Charlotte will tell them that he has been receiving your checks before the date of the and saw you sign one with hi will take them some time afterward to as- certain that we are not in Pankanky yet. If, however, the telegraph is used without waiting to ascertain that fact, the detective will t the train when we pull into Wheeling.” | “Are you prépared for that?” es. You change your disguise befor® taking that train.” “Ah,” said Lape “And you man. ‘t. with relief. on alone,” added the wo- sa port, Inquiringly. “You reach Cincinnati and go to the Co- lumbia Hotel, an obs: You will look on the ‘register for Bernard Biddle. He's your old friend. He get you over into Kentucky that night. On’ Friday morning at 10 o'clock you will be at the rendezvi nted by Mr. Kent. I will myself that point pursuit.” Laport looked at her. “TI do not how that can be,” he said. “You will see clearly enough when you arrive there,” replied his companion. CHAPTER V. On Friday motning a tired and dusty traveler in a miserable Tennessee wagon was driven up to the rugged acclivity in Henderson county now known as Fort Surges. It was then a _ wild, overgrown region and all the traveler and the negro Once a ‘afe from quite see sition. If it does not meet with your approbation you can depart. I will not be- j tay you. If it does, you can work for me! a year, save a handsome competence, and | spend the remainder of your days in ‘sume | safe place comfortably. You are .not ext- row yl Ss. “Pardon me,” said’ Laport. this coffee and listen to you. appetite. * “Perhaps a drop of stimulant?” “No,” said Laport. “My curiosity to hear what you have to say is too great to permit me to eat. Proceed.’’ “There are two orders of men, Mr. La port,” said Kent. One order deals with’) ideas, the, other with events. They are tn- compatiblé, but supplementary. The great- est achievements are brought about by the association of the two orders of taient. | One order is reflective and creative the other is executive and administrative. We) represent the two orders. I am not satis-| fied with events as they occur. I am going to manufacture them on a large scale.” He paused a moment and took a few mouthfuls of food. Laport was regarding him curiously. “This sounds a ttle abstract, but it is a necessary postulate. I’m not a crank. Like | yourself, society has wronged me. I pro-j let me remind | T will drink IT have no pose to rectify some ef the evils of society. f that sounds chimerical, to convince you that I am a man of method, accustomed to deal with facts and adjust! myself to circumstances. You are under some obligations to me. I propose to avail | myself of those obligations In only one way | —it is by making a confidant of you and depending upon your sense of loyalty, no} matter what arrangement we effect. The pledge is implied. I have to put myself in your hands to a certain extent. You are a free man. You are not directly or indirectly to betray my confidence, even if you do not stay with me. That, I merely say, is under- stood.” Laport bowed his head in acquiescence. Kent smiled. “Ic is hardly necessary for me to say to you that | would not have this confidence in your sense of loyalty if I hed not acquainted myself with your character, and I hardly would have taken the extraordinary means to secure your services if 1 had not believed I could de- pend upon you. Verbal pledges are un- necessary, my dear sir.” “In carrying out the vast projects which I have in my mind for the rectification of some of the evils of society, I shall neces- sarily come in collision with society, and it Was necessary first of all to find a secure place safe from interruption, impregnable and unknown to the world, where I could carry on the extensive organizing scheme. That place is under your feet.” “I do not understand you,” said Laport, looking curiously about hirh. “Under this floor,” continued Kent, ,“is the entrance to the largest cave that has probably ever been explored by man. I dis- covered it by accident seven years ago. I bought this piece of land and erected this house over the entrance. I purpose to buy the whole 2,000 acres of wild land that covers a great portion of it, and erect here a large building, ostensibly sanitarium. It is for the fitting up of this underground domain that I have taken such pains to secure your aid. I need in it an electrical piant, a water system, electric railway, and heating apparatus, besides means of defense and other modern appliances. I have estimated the cost of my internal— or, perhaps, I should say, intestinal—im- provement at something like a million dol- lars. It is for you to say, ‘when I have taken you over the ground, if you will sell me your mechanical skill for a year dnd what it will be worth.” t Kent waited for a reply. . After a moment's hesitation Laport said: “It seems to me, sir, that at this time I am not in a position to make terms. If you succeed in demonstrating to me the practicability of your plans, the best I can do is to offer you my services and advice in so,far as the scheme meets with my ap- probation.” , 1 can only say that such an ar- rangement will not do at all. I do not intend to implicate you in any of my schemes. I wish to employ your construc- tive ability at a reasonable price. If the work that I want done is practicable to the engineering and mechanical mind, and you give me your services for a year, will fifty thousand dollars compensate you?" For the first time it flashed over Laport’s mind that he was listening to a mono- manjac; one of those restless and harmless characters who conceive prodigious schemes and make fabulous investments with no other capital than their disordered imagina- tions. Kent guessed what was passing in his mind, for he said: e the suddenness and largeness of my schemes Have disturbed your confi- dence. Two or three days of investigation will restore it. We can talk further of the matter after we are better acquainted. Be- fore I, show you the underground labora- tory, let me explain to you the topograph- ical peculiarities of the country.” to Revoltionize Society. As he said this he picked up a map end, moving his chair closer to Laport’s, spread out the paper on the table. “There,” he | said, indicating a point on the map with a pencil, ‘is about where we are. This orig- inal map is a sketch-plan of the subter- |ranean domain as near as I have heen able to survey it. I estimate the south- Western extension of the cave to be about eighteen miles in length. There is another | hidden entrance at that extreme limit, but it needs a little excavating to be of prac- tical use. I intend to purchase that land also and erect a house over it. That en- trance, or, to speak more correctly, that exit, is within four miles of the great Wash bayou on the Mississippi. The country is | such that a hard road can be easily made. |The bayou is one of the deepest and wild- jest on the river. A sternwheel boat can , land her supplies there entirely hidden from the river with little difficulty. The 7st house is eighteen miles distant. The | portation overland is not much of a prob- jlem, but the eighteen miles underground needs an engineer's skill. That is where 1 want an electric railway. You will see the necessity of that when you examine the | place,-for it is the northeastern end of the jcave that can best be fitted up for habi- ‘tation and workshops. “The difficuliies to be overcome, as you | will readily understand, are physical aff- | ficulties, and involve lighting, ventilation, transit and defense. My idea is that the subterranean domain offers a magnificent field for the abode of an army of mechanics | and soidiers.”" | Laport was amazed. “Would it be im- pertinent,” he asked, “if I inquired what are going to do with the soldiers?” ‘ot at all,”’ replied Kent. “But it would be better perhaps if you were kept in ig- while Kent both ate and { “ you that the details of your rescue ought | q, | way, nefance of my ultimate plans, or at least “I should like to set her mind at rest in not made acquainted with them until you| some way, even if I cannot see her.” had grown to understand their possibility. In case you did not approve of them, it} would be better not to be implicated in) them. Let me ask you one question—did you not offer to the government a gun con- structed on a novel plan?” “Yes, I did,” repliel Laport. “And the government rejected it?” “The government laughed at “I need not tell you,” said Hendricks, ‘that communication with her is exactly what the detectives who are searching for you expect. They haVe already put a watch every one who calls upon her. are even intercepted. No, no. ent. it, and I/we can get word to her, and when we have upon her; know all her actions and “c'low Her mails Not at pres- By and by, when the scent is cold, spent months and a!l my money trying to/ proper accommodations, you can have her with you if you like, but not now.” lobby through an appropriation to get it tested.” “When was that?’ ‘It was eight years ago." ery good,” said Kent. “I should Lke} to have a talk with you about that you a sense of security, and to do that I) shall have to show you my hidden retreat | Before we go down let me say that this, Street bank yesterday house is accessible only by one road, and! up to the window presided ove: we can see any one approaching by that! ing-teller, says a w rdad for two tiles. in the woods. who can ca i Hesides 1 keep a sen- nicate h any a t into the} ample time to} in the Cavern, Here & got up and going to the cor- her vf the rvom teaned wits his ha upon the wali and pusued vigorously ius feet upon wie auur, When Instanily inuved se se ELE Gu TOMeLS, AUA as LL W.taurew frum the corner in which Keat) stood 4 smouiu rock snowed itself about a Toot beneata. he jumped down upon the Tock, alla with his foot gave te nvoring a! push and it receded about three Lees, ex-| pos.og w descent to wnich had veen fitted a rage wovden rail and steps. Laport stepped to the eage of the floor ana 10oked oy He saw part of a roagh shaft, Which was apparently ten or twelve feet in diamecer, tuat sank away obliquely in @ westerly direction and was very uack epeiant. ‘ome,”’ said Kent, “) will show you my Possessions You had better let me take your hand. 1 am tamiliar with the steps.” Thus assisting and guiding Laport, they lescended carefully the rude but solid stair- which for some distance was very steep. At the end of twenty feet they came to a rock landing and a new opening leading downward more gradually at right angles to the main shaft. Laport saw that the entire passage was a natural rift or hasm. He turned at the landing and looked back at the stairway dimly seen in the darkness stretching up above them. “IL Know what you are thinking of,” said Kent. “it 1s that by tne destruction of the steps one is caught Ike a rat in a trap. But you forget that there are other exits, and, besides, I have bored into the stratum above with an artesian drill and know where it is thinnest. Let us go down.” A light shone in the distance, and its reflection enabled Laport to descend with- out further difficulty. In places the natural slant of the rock needed no steps. At others Kent warned him of a sudden rise or fall in the path. As near as Laport could judge the second passage was fifty feet long and oply at a few points wide enough to pass two men abreast. On reaching the bottom >| press. Gent | ual and said: | then at the man. j and check.” of the deglivity, he found himself in au enormous’ stone room or arena, that was lit in part by two or three powerful lamps: and reflectors. As accurately as he could determine with his eye, the roof rock was eighty or a hundred feet high where it was lit by the reflected lights, beyond which was a pitchy gloom. The walls of this ro- tunda were uneven and slanted away at different angles, that portion through whose fissure they had come being the nea-est to @ gerpendicular. ‘The dimension of this room,” said Kent, in an hay nr goal way, ‘is about half an acre. It leads by a sort of corridor, fifty feet wide and 200 feet long, to a much large> opening. This at present is my workshop.” As his eyes became familiar with the light Laport saw figures moving about, and he thought he heard the sound of hammers. ‘Shere are six workmen,” said Kent. They have been fitting up the place for offices and headquarters, Let me show you your rooms.” They crossed the area, their figures mak- ing shifting and fantastic shadows, and came to @ rude wooden structure built against the side of the rock. Externally it presented the appearance of a mere shanty, but when Ker. opened the door he found it comfortably carpeted and furnish- ed and lit by a large lamp. A table stood in the center, upon which were heaped pa- pers and writing material. A book case filled with books, a handsome filter and Water cooler and a little buffet with decan- ters and glasses gave the place an air of luxury, The wooden walls had been taste- fully — and several pictures hung upon them. Kent waited to see the effect upon his visitor and then said: ‘A fairly comfortable retreat, professor, and I think you will now agree with me that it is a safe one. Here is a speaking tube and signal bell commu- nicating with the house above. Here is a sleeping room,” he added, as he threw open a side door and disclosed a narrow apartment with a comfortable bed and all the necessary chamber appurtenance: “You can work out your designs here with- out fear of interruption and be entirely safe from the variations of the season, as this thermometer will show you. But of course 1 do not expect you to spend all your time out of the sunlight. I should ad- vise you not to give more than half your day to this part of the establishment un- less there is danger of discovery. Lay “T should Jike to ask you a few practic: questions,” he said, “but the fact is the whole disclosure is so much like one of the stories of the Arabian Nights that any- thing practical seems out of plac: “Well, pray dismiss all notions of magic and illusion,” replied Kent with a smile. “The cave is the only thing that approac! es. the miraculous—all the rest is plain sail- ing, hard work with the assistance of sci- ence. It remains for you to say, after you have made a thorough examination of the place, if it can be made tenantable for a on ig . “I should sey at once,” said Laport, “tbat if you have the means at command that it can. I know nothing about the ven- tilation or salubrity of it, and the work is so gigantic that at first sight I should say it would require a stock company with un- MUmited capital to effect the purpose.” “I have roughly figured the Improveménts at $1,000,000," said Kent, “and that of course is an economical estimate. The money I have. It is not a question of resources. It is a question of practica- bility. I Want you to famillarize yourself with the place—make yourself comfortable, Wok over my plans which you will find in that portfolio there, estimate carefully just what tools and materials you need and be ready to talk to me more fufly at the end of a fortnight. Your salary will commence from today and you can draw on me for money -when you please. The sooner you get an accurate estimate of the material, the sooner I can begin to get it in. The first thing is to make a survey for an elec- tric plant and a tramway. We must have light and means of conveyance. It is im- possible to deliver the heavy material at this entrance. I am going away tomorrow and will be back in about a week. In that time I expect you to have formed a clear judgment of what you can do. You are too tired today to go over the ground, but I will introduce you to my right-hand man here, who will be subject to your directions when we get to work, and he will guide you in your explorations. You will find many of the conveniences of life here. The mail is brought once a day and includes the prin- cipai papers of the country and some of its best periodical literature. There are sta- tionery and appliances in the rooms. I would not, if 1 were you, venture far from the house above ground alone, and remem- ber that my name here is Hendricks and yours is Franklin. Is there anything you would like to say to me before I go?” Laport hesitated a moment, and then replied: “Yes. There ts one person whom I should like to know of my freedom. It is the only person on earth for whom IT have a deep affection, and who on hearing of my escape will be tormented with anx- iety.” “And who might that person be?’ “It is my daughter.” “Where is she?” ‘In Boston.” “You want to communicate with her?” (To be continued.) ————__se-- SATISFIED THE PA TELLER, gun| After Everything Else Had Failed | later on, The first thing to do is to give! Tattoo Marks Were Accepted as Proof. A well-dressed man went into a Main ternoon and walked r by the pay- riter in the Buffalo Ex- He handed a check to that individ- I have here a check for $30 ou would cash.” rv looked at the ‘You will which I wish ‘The paying kk and have to be | identified,” he said. The well-dressed man was prepared for this, “J don't know a soul in Buffalo,” he said, “but I have a lot of Jetters addressed to myself." dow. The paying teller examined the addresses, | “That | looked at the check again, and said: is not sufficient. sonally identified. “But there isn't a man, woman or child in Buffalo who kKuows me from a trolley car,” You will have to be per- persisted the well-dressed man. “Here, here is my Key ring. Look at the name on that tag.” The paying teller saw that the name on the check and the name on the tag were the same. “I am sorry,” he said, ‘‘but our rules are very strict. I can't pay this check on such an identification. Excuse me, but you may have stolen both letters and key chain . The weil-dressed man was worried. got to have that money,” he said, “to get out of town with, and I have to get out of town this afternoon.’ tore open his vest and showgd hi: on his shirt. “There,” he said, think I stole the shirt, too.” “May have,”. answerel] the paying teller, laconically. The well-dressed man was very angry. He walked around the bank for 2 while and then was struck by 2 sudden thought. He took off his coat and vest and rolled up his inittals ‘do you left shirt sleeve and the sleeve of his under- | tuck his bared arm through | the window and shouted: “There, you dod- | shirt. Then he si gasted chump! Do you see those initials tattoced there in blue ink? Do you think I stole them, too?” The paying telier paid the money without another word. ———-+-92—_____ Reaning Away From Mamma. From the Boston Transcript. Ranning away from maar: Bareheaded up the stre King the dust inte With ttle roguis: Tossing it over his clean Into his stocking heeis, Checking the little woolsy borse ‘That trundles along on wheels, Dreaming away with wide blue eyes, And 8} ting wh; ww sinoke it. hite dress God won't give him ihe coiden ball ‘That drops in the quivering sky. What is the ose of thar pretty pink clond, Sailing away so hig! If be can't have a rid in it? And It's no use to cry, If that woman grew with glasses on, TE this homme ix papa Why that nice red cow won't talk to bim Looking across the bars. Iuto the nelzbbors’ wates and doors, Under thelr cherry trees, Into miscilef and out again, Wherever be may please. Wandering at lust to the olf church steps, Little horse and all, Climbing up laboriousiy— ‘Too bad te he shoukl tall Pasbing in with dimpted hands The great doors siroug and tall, Letting the warm, sweet summer light Slide down the shadowed wall. Standing still in the solemn hush Of chancel, nave, and dome, ‘whinking tt is pret ‘Than the sitting Not a bit afraid, ah! Of the shadows vast rnd dim, Quite at home, and sure it was made All oa purpose for him. The old, old story comes up to me Written so lonz ago, About the heavenly temple, Where you and I must go. The beautiful waiting temple, ‘That has no room for #in— Something about a little child the way of entering in. +83 Got Down to “D.” From the Chicago Tribune. A well-known scholar and man of letters sent the following jeu d’esprit to Dr. Mur- ray on hearing the news that the new En- glish dictionary has at last got through with the letter C, and that D is now in hand: Wherever the English speech has spread, And the Union Jack flies free, The news will be gratefully, proudly read That you've conquered your A BC! + But. 1 fear tt will come As a shock to some That the sad result must be That you're taking to dabble and dwadie and doze. To dullness and dumps and (worse than those) To danger and drink, And—shocking to think— To words that begin with a d—. —o-——_____ The Sausage Wel! From Harper's Young People. He pulled out a package of: letters and shoved them through the win- | { “T've | Then he desperately | THAT REAR FLAGMAN Great Responsibility and Hardship Connected With the Position. THE LATEST ACCIDENT CRITICISED i | Old Systems of Railroading That | | Call for Needed Improvement. | | i ACCIDENTS AND DISCIPLINE | | wielded RE TERRIBLE} collision on the Lack- | awanna road near Hackensack about | two weeks back will | be called an accident by the great mass cf people,but to the vet- | eran traveler or raii- | road employe it was | not an accident in | the strict sense of the word. The for- Was making its way to the terminal sta- tion on the North river through a dense fog. Before reaching the bridge on the Hackensack river it came to a stop in or- der that the conductor and engineer of the | train might be sure that the draw was down and the treck ready for use. It was well known that another train was not far | behind. The re: brakeman, or flagman, proper, Started back with a flag to warn this approaching train, which was sald to have been running at the rate of twenty- five miles an hour. Discovering that the train following was so near at hand that he thought he could not prevent a collision, he returned, and tried to warn the passen- gers on the stationary train of their great peril, Mefore they could profit by this warning the following train crashed into the cars in which they were trapped, kill- ing twelve persons and injuring many others, Desiring to get the inside views on the subject, an Evening Star reporter hunted up a retired railroad oificia! living up in the northwestern part of the city and asked lim where he placed the responsibility for the wreck. This gentleman has not lost sight of railroad matters since he retired | into a quieter life, but has always been a | close student on railroad development, and speaks by the card. He said: é A Rallrond Ma: ews. “That accident at Hackensack was due to the blundering action of the rear brake- man or flagman. The accounts say that he had gone back ten feet when he heard the noise of the on-coming train, and thinking the train could not be stopped, he return- ed to warn the passengers on his train of their danger. Now you know a person can hear a considerable distance; the train that was rushing up from the rear was making but twenty-five miles an hour, which ts a moderate speed for a passenger train, and the flagman should have kept en.. He could certainly have cleared twenty-five or thirty- five feet more, and even in a dense fog the engineer could have seen him from a dis- tance of ten feet. This would have put the distance about fifty feet between the two wains, and I take it that a train running twenty-tve miles an hour can be stopped in that distance, or, in case of wet rails, to lessen the speed to such an extent that a broken plattorm would have been the sum total of the dumage done. “The causes of nearly all of the rear-end collisions which have taken place in late years has been reckless disobedience of or- ders or a refusal on the part of the train- men to be influenced by well-known con- ditions of danger. In the last six months there has been much philosophic and learn- ed discussion of the question why con- ductors and engineers, to say nothing of the rear flagmen, kill passengers through rear-end collisions. The more practical po go is how they and the companies that employ them can be prevented from or destroying the lives of pas- sengere by collisions for which there is not the slightest excuse. There should be se- vere penaities, both in the form of dam- ages to be recovered and in the form of imprisonment for the guilty. The appalling and unprecedented record of railroad fatal- ities last year should cause legislatures to Provide corrective measures. Lack of Discipline. “About one-third, from 30 to 40 per cent, of the railroad accidents are due to causes directly traceable to a lack of discipline. All collisions are of this character, many derailments and a large share of those lesser actidents which cause the loss of life and limb by railroad employes while mak- ing up trains and handling them. In the aggregate these foot up a butcher's bill of dead and wounded far in excess of that oc- casioned by the spectacular accidents on which public attention is riveted. “New: and the public are loud in their criticism of weak bridges, broken rails, bent axles and car stoves. With rea- son, All are deadly. But altogether kill fewer than lax observance of known rules. The Hackensack accident resolves itself into lax discipline, which runs up to the very superintendent. Here was a draw- bridge ahead; the first train properly slacks up to ascertain if everything is all right; the flagman knew the place weil, and should have known that a train was fol- lowing, but he holds on to his train until the last fatal minute for fear of being left. The engineer on the following train knew or should have known that there was a train ahead, that it would stop at the draw two times out of four in clear weather— the morning of the wreck was densely foggy—yet he permits his train to near an important point at twenty-five miles an hour, knowing the peril of wet rails even with perfect working air brakes. The tel- egraph operator at the station north of the bridge is supposed, according to rules, to hold passenger trains ten minutes apart when block signals are not used. For the distance traveled it would appear that the apes mbowres va ege st {ain to slip by si Somewhat wi - ra "g this ten min. Three Men Responsible. “Here are three men upon whom I place the responsibility for the Hackensack calamity, although the flagman, in my mind, was directly responsible. Discipline in its broad sense must have been very lax (> permit these three men to bunch their j ignorance at a time when it would do the | most harm. In ordinary cases one man ; should act as a guard over the other. Throughout the road was run haphazard, according to later day improvements in railroading, and yet on no roads is dis- cipline of the strictest kind more impera- tive than on suburban lines, and on none is the temptation stronger to take the small risks, which generally, in the end, term- j inate in a big accident. The calamity eliminated all the errors at the cost of many lives. That is what makes discipline cheaper than accidents, as the Lacka- wanna road is likely to find out by the time damages are paid. Ginn AE = Ean system is what 1 ticularly desire to my voice again: Perhaps, though I doubt it, having wotehed similar calamities fo> many a few more wrecks like Hackensack will convince the travel- ing public how little safety is secured bygthe present rule and practice of guard- ing against rear collisions by sending back a flagman to flag approaching trains. Where trains are run by space interval or on the block system, when a train is stop- ped in a block no other train can enter it until the train has moved on. When trains are run by a time interval, as we know most American roads runs them, when a train stops at any point where the approach of a train from the rear is possible, a flag- man walks back half a mile with a lantern or flag until he is called in by the whistle of his locomotive. “Very few of the passengers in the rear car would rest easy during an unexpected stop if they knew how little this precaution amounts to. At all hours, in all kinds of weather, on all tracks and at various dis-| tances from shelter or a station, the rea> flaman, a man earning not over $1.50 a day, is expected on a stop to leave the t walk back half a mile, run the risk o' ing left on the track,with a long and drea-y walk to the nearest station, for the purpose of flagging a train which never appears in one case in hundreds. If there is a curve close at hand, no conducto> can tell er the man has back the re; 1,000 yards, or ri: shorter walk. Ve ked a | | man forgets his | Roticed, the delayed train may be struck by ward train had pulled | System that it S k meeting in New out of Newark and | jooking ae observant man, familiar with tice, must have observed the amazing rapidity with which a rear on a well Tailroad prac- and is slippery and on a down grade—condi ae preeeeet. —- accident in year—there will not be space enough Stop the on-coming train. If the 4 which is delayed is to move in an instant, is to go back at cause of the Massachusetts acci- dent about four months ago. If the flag-. torpedoes or they are un- tions Ohio the one approaching after he has been called in, and before his train starts. The chances are endl \- — — less, and nearly every col. The Rear Flagman. “Even when he does his work correctly, the rear flagman is unexpected. Men see what they are looking for. Engineers are! but men. They are not machines. For a block signal, passed on every run, the en. sineer fireman is watching. But for the un- expected and accidental flagman, with « lantern or flag in his hand and an anxious! desire not to be left by his own train in heart, the engineer is not watching, and the nature of things cannot be. Hackensack Hackensack accident the approaching the Fushing back for his train with fame] intent in his heart, and the was only York thet steps were taken general of block signal rules. In other words, the general | pules in use on a majority of the roads protection | against rear end jision: most {quent and fatal of all This te oe no e made = thing but the Provision hitherto for any. rear asa in part be- cause the block system is costly; but where orders—and trains are moved by teleg-aphi most American. ines “areothe yeur on lines how quickly the A ing trains, in inmaplicit . ds sw, when t | Legislati? tnberieeane yelp man- agement is not, oniinarity, wise, but re- cent collisions Suggest that the | block system be required on all wo carrying over a certain percentage of “aitic. “There are few things in which railroad’ men are willing to look to England for ad- = + ae tion, but the wrror uld suggest the ad ot sisting San Sas See English railway system, and next te the block ed tem I think it is the a ue, Hackensack accident was due, the fog. The London least eight months out of that are even more dense than that which covered dows at the time of rear-end collisions, sort on the lines running out of London have been Unknown in’ recent America the theory seems wherever mechanism ean be substituted men the safety of the tra assured. On the London roads of this seems to be the cheaper in England that ‘here, and Rumber of employes on greater than im this stant supervision of the . “Now, I don't want you to take from ann ag a said that I do not with the train employes, those who have been the direct mane ot it is the system that permits them fatal blunders that I “I know what it is to live a year minutes. When I was @ mere boy out as a freight brakeman. It single-track road. The engine of one night broke down through in the steam pipes. We were siding five miles away to clear the fast ee tel B 3 very aif Hf I Hi é fit fling 3 Git worthy was in the tender with a will. “I watched the rear lights of the express disappear around the curve a tance below me and then I gathered lantern, lit it’and started My feet appeared to weigh every step I expected to hear call for brakes from the locomotive. But it didn’ “The freight engine had shorter time than was expected, gineer had blown his ing me back, but the prevented me hearing th: pulled onto the siding thereby saved a horrible walk five miles Before I reached a shelter at the next station, but mind the weather a bit. I took as a punishment. That lesson was one to me, as the exposure put me for six weeks, but for twenty years after- ward I railroaded without an acciden man never forgets a nerve shock like that and for that reason I — —— = charge an employe who has used wreck. His fatal blunder will be stamped on his brain so effectively that he will never err again.” ® — FOR THE NERVOUS. The Care of Bed and Body Linen= Disease Breeders. A nice old lady who knows all paced 4 Says that if people would take more care air their bed and body linen, there would be much less nervousness to dilate upon. “Clothes,” she says, “should be washed through two suds, and the boiling water and be rinsed twice, once in lukewarm and the last time in cold water. They should, if possible, have six hours of sun- shine, and in winter freezing is beneficial. After they have been ironed, they should again be exposed to sunshine before they arte humg:in closets or put away in draw- ers.” This process will insure perfect cleanliness and exemption from bad odors, which she insists are disease breeders. This same housekeeper is fond of sweet odors, not the smell paralyzing musk,jockey club and heliotrope, but nice spicy smells that make one think of India’s coral strand and the pine woods of Maine.-clean, healthy smells, anid this is the way she a ish- es it. ‘It starts out a good deal like mince pies or plum pudding. She takes a half ounce each of cinnamon, nutmeg, mace, cloves, caroway seed and lavender flowers, one ounce of tonga beans, and three ounces jof orzis root, and pounds them all to a powder. Then she makes little muslin bags into which she puts an ounce of the mixture and scatters them among her linen. She | puts quantities among her woolen clothes j when she puts them away, and says the odor keeps out moths, at least she never is {troubled with moths when she uses it. The } material is so cheap and the labor in pre- | paring so light that the experiment is well worth the trial if oMicted with scalp diseases, b aud premat Mdness, do wot us. bolic preparations, but apply Hall’