Evening Star Newspaper, May 22, 1897, Page 18

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MAY 22, 1897-24 PAGES. WIDE PLOY ONOY we Ase), 90 5 x DCN Chapter V—Continued From Last Sat-1+ urday. But Mr. Van Loo aid not immediately ; seek M Barker. He had already some experience of that lady's nerves and ira: 1 Wility on the drive, and had begun to see | his error in taking so dangerous an im- | pediment to his flight from the country. | nd enother idea had come to him. He bad already effected his purpose of com- { promisir = her with him in that flight, bi i: was still known only to a few. If he left her behind for the foolish, doting husband, would not that devoted man take her back to avoid a scandal, and even forbear to pursue him for his financial irregularities? What vere $20,000 of Mrs. Barker's money | to the scandal of Mrs. Barker’s clopement? | Again, the failure to realize the fergery had left him safe, and Barker was svffi- ly potent with the bank and Demorest » hush up that also. Hamlin was now the orly obstacle to his flight, but even he would scarcely pursue him if Mrs. Barker | were left behind And it would te easier | to elude him if he did. | In his preoccupation Van Loo did not see that he had entered a bar room, but, find- ing h f there, he moved toward the gla:s of spirits would revive him. drank it he saw that the reem was rough men, epparently miners or As hi fuil of THE THREE Or The Big Strike on Heavy Tree Hill. Written for The Evening Star. BY BRET HARTE. (Copyright, 1897, by Bret Harte.) (2X ee) Gellse Loe bee) Gekse toot bey PARTNERS; NOD LLL was. however, an opportune diversion to Van Loo, who managed to get nearer the Goor leading to the back entrance of the hotel. and to Mr. Jack Hamlin, who was | watching him, as the men closed up to the bar. The toast, was drunk with acclamation, followed by “another and yet another. Step- toe and Van Loo, who had kept their heads cool, were both wondering if Hamlin’s in- tention was to intoxicate and incapaci- tate the crowd at the crucial moment, and Steptoe smiled grimly over his superior knowledge of their alcoholic capacity. But suddenly there was the greatest diversion of a shout from the road, the oncoming of a cloud of red dust, and the halt of another vehicle before the door. This time it was no jaded single horse and dust-stained bug- but @ double team of four spirited trot- ters, whose coats were scarcely turned with foain, before a light station wagon contain- But that man was in- ntly recognized by every one of the out- je loungers and stable boys, as well as e staring crowd within the saloon. It was James Stacy, the millionaire and bank- er. No one but himself knew that he had covered half the distance of a night-long ride from Boomville in two hours. But be- fore they could voice their astonishment Stacy had thrown a letter to the obse- ing. a single man. st quious landiord, and then gathering up the reins had sped away to the railway station half a mile distant. “Look as if the boss of creation was in a “HE'S GOT TO P. some of packers or Australian. Two men clad, though appar- cal terms with the others, we! corner with their backs to- From the general silence as he | a ed that he had been the ! ersation, and that his alte @mlin had been overhear. @ men turned and | To his consternation he | *—Sieptce. whom he had | until last night, | n in the courtyard | His first instinet too late. And ] em Mexican, with here | Hotel but it w t goin’ to be backed down by a gambler, yer?" said Step- y. . and am pressed “He quickly. would not h otherwise he k lock here as you | he add- e reer, “ain't par- Mr. Jack Hamlin neither, | afore long. That's the Well, when ‘ou just tip us circle round Jack > starts after you longer jorrney! from their hich had Icaped | of help, sank at an of abandon- | itated, and then | is every- uldn’t mind chivalrous gen- a few hours oniy, with my friends e this scoun- | al ath with a slight | Loc He instant- | plea did not . for purpc Barker very high- onic: They're -oncluded i jually well, as long fled together, and in sses. But he was 00's heroic s “it shall be done, and e of you wi iM escape. I'll horses round to the back door, p the buggy in front. That wil? there, too—with the boys handy.” Mr. Hamlin had quite as accurate an Mr. Van Loo’s methods and of his 4 7 ptoe's gang of roughs 1 ch | dle and da: as Mr. ptoe him: More than that, he also had id on a smaller but more de- voted and loyal following than Steptoe’s. e employes and ers of the hotel worshiped him. A single word of inquiry Jed to him the fact that the buggy m, but that Mr. Van Loo Barker werc—on two horses, a ry side saddle having been con- out of a mule’s pack tree. At hich Mr. Hamlin, with his usual audacity, aiked into the bar room, and, going to the bar, leaned carelessly against it. Then, turning to the lowering faces around him, he said, with a flash of his white teeth, oe boys, I'm caiculating to leave the in a few minutes to follow some friends in the buggy, and it seems to*me enly the square thing to stand the liquor for the crowd, without prejudice to any feeling or roughness there may be agin me. Everybody who knows me knows that I'm generally there when the band plays, and i'm pretty sure to turn up for that sort of thing. So you'll just consider that I've had a good game on the ‘Divide,’ and I'm Barred it's only fair to leave a little of ehind me here, to ‘sweeten the pot’ un- at I call again. I only ask you, gentlemen, to drink success to my friends in the buggy as early and as often as you can.” He flung two gold pieces on the counter and psused smilingty- He was right in his conjecture. Even the men who would have willingly “held him up” a moment after, at the bidding of Steptoe, saw no reason for declining a free drink “without prejudice.” And it was a part of the irony of the situation that Step- toe and Van Loo were also obliged to par- ticipate to keep in with their partisans. It AY FOR IT.” “More like as if he was just humpin’ him- self to keep from getting smashel,” said Steptoe. “The bank hasn't got over the effect of their smart deal in the wheat trust. Everything they had in their hands tumbled yesterday in Sacramento. Men like me and yoy ain't goin’ to trust their money to be “jockeyed’ with in that style. Nobody but a man with a swelled head like Stacy would have even dared to try it cn. And now, by G—4! he's got to pay for it.”" The harsh, exultant tone of the speaker snowed that he had quite forgotten Van Loo and Hamlin in his superior hatred of the millionaire, and both men neticed it. Van Loo edged still nearer to the door as Steptoe continued, “Ever since he made that big strike on Heavy Tree five years ago the countcy hasn't been big enough to hold him. But mark my words, gentlemen, the time ain't far off when he'll find a two-foot ditch again and a pick and grub wages room enough to spate for him and his kind of cattle.” “You're not drinking,” said Jack Hamlin, erfully. Steptoe turned toward the bar and then started. “Where's Van Loo?” he demand- ed of Jack sharply. Jack jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Gone to hurry up his girl, I reckon. 1 calculate he ain't got much time to fool away here.” Steptoe glanced suspiciously at Jack. But at th@ same moment they were all startled—even Jack htmself—at the ap- parition of Mrs. Barker passing hurriedly along the veranda before the windows in the direction of the st!ll waiting bugsy. “D—n it!” said Steptoe in a fierce whisper to the man next him. “Tell her nct there —at the back door!” But before the rnes- senger reached the door there was a sud- den rattle of wheels, and with one accord all except Hamlin rushed to the veranda. only to see Mrs. Barker driving rapidly away alone. Steptoe turned back into his room, but Jack also had disappeared. For in the confusion created at the sight of Mrs. Barker, he had slipped to the back door and found, as he suspected, only one horse, and that with a side saddle on. His intuitions were right. Van Loo, when he disappeared from tke saloon, had in- stantly fled, taking the other horse and abandoning the woma:. to her fate. Jack as instantly leaped upon the remaining sad- after him. Presently be caught a glimpse of the fugitive in the distance, heard the half-angry, half-iron- ical shouts of the crowd at the back door, and as he reached the hilltop saw, with a | mingling of satisfaction and perplexity, Mrs. Barker on the other road still driving frantically im the direction of the railway stat At which Mr. Hamlin halted, thre way his incumbering saddle, and, good rider that he was, remounted the Forse, barebacked but for his blanket pad, thrusting his knees in the loose girths, again dasned forward, with such good re- suits that, as Van Loo galloped up to the stage coach office at the next station and was atout to enter the waiting coach for Marysville, the soft hand of Mr. Hamlin was laid on his shoulder “I teld you,” sald Jack blandly, “that I had plenty of time. I would have been here before, and even overtaken you, only you had the better horse and the only sad- dle.” Ino recoiled. But he was now des- perate and reckless. Beckoning Jack out of earshot of the other passengers, he said with tightened lips: “Why do you follow me? What fs your purpose in coming here?” “I thovght,” said Hamlin, dryly, “that I was to have the picasure of getting satis- faction from you for the insult you gave cae “Well, and if I apologize for it, what then?” he said quickly. Hamlin looked at him quietly. “Well, I think I also said something about the lady being the wife of a friend of mine.” “And I have left her behind. Her husband can take her back without disgrace, for no one knows of her flight but you and I. Do you think your shooting me will save her? it will spread the scandal far and wide. For J warn you that, as I have apologized for what you choose to call my personal in- sult, unless you murder me in cold blood without witness, I shall let them know the reason of your quarrel. And I can tell you more; if you only succeed.in stopping me here and make me lose my chance of get- ting away the scandal to your friend will be greater still.” Mr. Hamlin looked at Van Leo curiously. There was a certain amount of conviction in what he said. He had never met this kind of creature before. He had even Hamlin's first intuition of his charac. ter. He amused and interested But also a man of the world and knew that Van Loo’s reasoning might be good. He put his hands in his pockets “What is your little ‘Van Loo had been seized with in- aa a with another might be of tmportance to Jack. Why should he not try to make friends with this powerful free lance and half outlaw?” “It's a game,” he said, significantly, ‘that might be of interest to your friends to hear.” Hamlin #@ok his hands out of his pockets, turned on his heel and said, “Come wit Pos said Jack, coolly. “If I'm satisfied with what you tell me I'll put you down at the next station an hour be- fore that coach gets there.” “You swear it? said Van Loo, hesi- tatingiy. “I've said it,” returned Jack. ‘Come,” and Van Loo followed Mr. Hamlin into the station hotel. Chapter VI. The abrupt disappearance of Jack Ham- lin anc the strange lady and gentl? nan visitors was ‘scarcely noticed by the other guests of the “Divide House,” and beyond the circle of Steptoe and his friends, who were a distinct party and strangers to the town, there was no excitement. Indeed, the hotel proprietor might have confounded them together, and, perhaps, Van Loo was not far wrong in his belief that their iden- tity had not been suspected. Nor were Steptoe’s followers very much concerned in ar episode in which they had taken part only at the suggestion of their leader, and which had terminated so tamely. ‘That they would have liked a “row,” in which Jack Hamlin would have been incidentally forced to disgorge his winnings, there was no doubt. but that their interference was asked solely to gratify some persoial spite of Steptoe’s against Van Loo was equally Plain to them. There was some grumbling and outspoken criticism of his methods. This was later made more obvious by the arrival of another guest for whom Step- toe and his party were evidently waiting. He was a short, stout man, whose heavy red beard was trimmed a little more care- fully than when he was first known to Steptoe as “Alky Hall,” the drunkard of Heavy Tree Hill. His dress, too, exhibited a marked improvement in quality and style, although still characterized in the waist and chest by the unbuttoned freedom of portly and slovenly middle age. Civili- zation had restricted his potations, or lim- ited them to certain festivals known as “sptees,” and his face was less puffy and sodden. But with the accession of sobriety he had lost his good humor, and had the irritability and Intolerance of virtuous re- straint. “Ye needn't ladle out any of your forty: rod’ whisky to me,” he said, querulously, to Steptoe, as he filed out with the rest of the party through the bar room into the ad- jacent apartment. “I want to keep my head level till our business is over, and 1 reckon it wouldn't hurt you and your gang to do the same. They're less likels to blab: and there are few doors that whisky won't unlock,” he added, as Steptoe turned the key in the door after the party had en- tered. The room had evidently been used for meetings of directors or political caucuses, and was roughly furnished with notched and whittled arm chairs and a single long deal table, on which were Ink and fen: The men sat down around it with a hal: embarrassed, half-contemptuous _ attitude of formality, their bent brows and isolated looks showing little community of senti- ment and scarcely an attempt to veil that individual selfishness that was prominent. Still less was there any essay of compan- iorship or sympathy in the manner of Steptoe as he suddenly rapped on the table with his knuckles. “Gentlemen,” he said, with a certain de- liberation of utterance, as if he enjoyed his own coarse directness, “I have a sort of general idea what you were picked up for, or you wouldn't be here. But you may or may not know that for the present you are honest, hard-working miners—the backbone of the state of Cali- forny—and that you have formed your- selves into a company called the ‘Blue Jay,’ and you've settled yourselves on the bar below Heavy Tree Hill, on a deserted claim of the Marshall brothers, not half a mile from where the big strike was made five years ago. That's what you are, gen- tlemen; that's what you'll continue to be until the job's finished; and," he added, with a sudden dominance that they ali felt, “the man who forgets it will have to reckon with me. Now,” he continued, re- suming his former ironical manner, “now what are the cold facts of the case? The Marshalls worked this claim ever since ‘49, and never got anything out of it; then they dropped off or died out, leaving only one brother, Tom Marshall, to work what was left of it. Well, a few days ago he found ‘indications’ of a big lead in the rock, and instead of rushin’ out and yellin’ like an henest man, and callin’ in the boys to drink, he sneaks off to "Frisco and goes to the bank to get 'em to take a hand in it. Well, you know, when Jim Stacy takes a hand in anything, it's both hands, and the bank woulin’t see it until he promised to guarantee possession of the whole aban- doned claim—‘dips, spurs and angles’—and let them work the whole thing, which the d—d fool did, and. the bank agreed to sed an expert down there tomorrow to report. But while he wgs away some one on our side, who was an expert also, got wind of it and made an examination all by himself, and found it was a vein sure enough and a big thing, and some one else on our side found out, too, all that Mar- shall had promised the bank and what the bank had promised him. Now, gentlemen, when the bank sends down that expert to- mcrrow I expect that he will find you in possession of every part of the deserted claim except the spot where Tom is still working.” “And what good is that to ys?” asked one of the men, contemptuously. “Good?” repeated Steptoe harshly. “Well, if you’re not as d—d a fool as Marshall you'll see that if he has struck a ‘lead’ or vein it’s bound to run across our claims, and what’s to keep us from ‘sinking’ for it as long as Marshali hasn't worked the other claims for years nor pre-empted them for this lead “What'll keep him now?” “Our possession.”” “But if he can prove that the brothers left their claims to him to keep, he'll just send the sheriff and his posse down upon persisted the first speaker. “It will take him.three months to do that by law, and the sheriff and his posse can’t do it before as long as we're in peaceable possession of it. And by the time the ex- pert and Marshall return they'll find us in peaceful possession. Unless we're such blasted fools as to stay talking about it here.” “But what's to prevent Marshall from getting a gang of his own to drive us off?” “Now you're talkin’ and not yelpin’,” said Steptoe, with slow insolence. “D—d if I don’t begin to think you kalkilated I was goin’ to employ you as lawyers! Nothing is to prevent him from gettin’ up his gang, from pre-empting ‘Was About to Enter the Coach. nd we hope he'll do it, for you see tt puts 2 both on the same level before the law, said half-a-dozen voices, eagerly. “But what's the job goin’ to pay us?” per- sisted a Sydi “An’ arter we've peer hat this other gamg are we going serul pend upon the lead; but we don’t move off those claims'for less than $5,000, which will be $250 to each man. But,” said Steptoe in a lower, buf perfectly distinct voice, “if there should_be a row—and they begin it— and in the sCuffie*fom Marshall, their only witness, she ypen to get in the way of a revolver hawp his head caved in, there might be sdine #pfficulty_in their hoidin’ any of the ‘inst. honest, bard-work- mine ing miners 1% podgession. “You H®ar me?” There was a Wreathless silence for the moment, and a sight movenient of the men in their chairs. But never in fear or pro- test. Everyone had heard the speaker dis- tnctly, and®every man distinctly under- stood him. Some of them were criminals, one or two had ajready the stain of blood on their hands, but even the-most timid, who at other timas might have shrunk from suggested assassination, saw in the speaker’s words only the’ fair removal of a natural enemy. “All right, boys. I'm ready to wade in at once. Why ain’t we-on the road now? We might have been but for foolin’ our time away on that man Van 1.00.” “Van Loo!” repeated Hall, eagerly. “Van Loo! Was he here?” “Yes,” said Steptoe, shortly, administer- ing a kick under the table to Hall, as he had no wish to revive the previous irrita- bility of his comrades. ‘He's gone, but,” turning: to the others, ‘you'd have had to wait for Mr. Hall's arrival, anyhow. And now you've got your order you can start. Go in two parties by different roads and meet on the other side of the hotel at Hy- mettus. I'll be there before you. Pick up your shevels and drills as you go; remem- ber, you're honest miners, but don’t forget ycur shootin’ irons for all that. Now scatter.” it was well that they did, vacating the room more cheerfully and sympathetically than they had entered it, or Hall's manifest disturbance over Van Loo's visit would have been noticed. When the last man had disappeared Hall turned quietly to Steptoe. Well, what did he say? Where has he gone “Don’t know,” said Steptoe with uneasy curtness. “He was running away with a Woman—well, Mrs. Barker, if you want to know," he added with rising anger, “the wife of one of those cussed partners. Jack Hamlin was here, and was jockeying to stop him, and interfered. But what the devil has that job to do with our job?" He was losing his temper: everything seemed to turn upon this infernal Van Loo! “He wasn't running away with Mrs. Bar- ker,” gasped Hall. “It was with her money! and the fear of being connected with the wheat trust swindle, which he or- ganized, and with our money, which 1 lent him for the same purpose. And he knows all about that job, for I wanted to get him to go into it with us. Your name and mine ain't any too sweet smelling for the bank, and we ought to have a middle- man who knows business to arrange with them. The banie dar‘n’t object to him, for they've employed him ,in even shadier transactions than this when they didn’t wish to appear. I knew he was in difficul- ties along with Mrs. Barker's speculations but I never thought him up to this. And, he added, with sudden desperation, “you trusted him, too."’ . In an instant Steptoe caught the fright- ened man by the shoulders and was bear- ing him down on the table. “Are you a traitor, a liar, or a besotted fool?” he said, hoarsely. “Speak. When and where did I trust nim?” “You said in your note—I was—to—help him,” gasped" Hail. “My note?” repegted Steptoe, Hall, with astonished eyes. “Yes,” said Hall, tremblingly searching in his vest pocket. “I brought it with me. 1t isn’t much of a note, but there's your signature, plain enough.” He handed Steptoe a torn piece of paper, folded in a three-cornered shape. Steptoe opened it. He instantly recognized the pa- per on whicl?/he had written his name and sent up to his wife at the Boomville Hotel. But, added to it, in apparently the same releasing hand, in smaller characters, were the words, “Hels Vati Loo all you can.” The ‘blood ‘rushed into his face. But he ickly collected “himself and said hurried- “All right, I-had forgotten it. Let the d—4 sneak #0. We've got what's a thou- sand times ‘better in this claim at Mar- shall’s, and ft's ‘Well that he isn’t in it to scoop the Hion’s Share. Only we must not waste time getting there now. You go there first, and at once, and set those ras- cals to work. Yb follow you before Mar- shall comes tip. Get: I'll settle up here. His face darkened once more as Hall hur- ried away, leaving him alone. He drew out the piece oft’ pager from his pocket and stared at it agaif. Yes, it was the one he had sent to Ris wife. -How did Van Loo get hold of It? Was he at the hotel that nighi? Had hé pickéditvup-in the hall or passage when the’ servant dropped it? When Hall handed him the paper and ine first recog- nized it a fiendish thought, followed by 9 spasm of more fiendish rage, had sent the blood to his face. But his crude common sense quickly dismissed that suggestion of. his wife's complicity with Van Loo. But had she seem him passing through the ho- tel that night, and had sought to draw from him some knowledge of his early in- tercourse with the child, and confessed everything, and even produced the paper with his signature as a proof of identity? Women had been known to do such desper- ate things. Perhaps she disbelieved her son’s aversion to her, and was trying to sound Van Loo. As for, the forged words by Van Loo, and the use he had put them to, he cared little. He believed the man was capable of forgery; indeed, he sud- denly remembered that in the old days his son had spoken innocently, but admiringly, of Van Loo's wonderful chirographical powers, and bis faculty of imitating the writing of others, and how he had even of- fered to teach him, A new and exasper- ating thought came into his feverish con- sciousness. What ¥ Van Loo, in teaching the boy, had even made use of him as an innccent accomplice to cover up his own tricks. The suggestion was no question of moral ethics to Steptoe, nor of his son’s possible contamination, although since the night cf the big strike he had held differ- ent views; it was simply a fierce, selfish Jealousy that another might have profited by the lad’s helplessness and inexperience. He had been torm&nted by this jealousy be- fore in his son's liking for Van Loo. He had at first encouraged his admiration and imitative regard for this smooth swindler’s graces and accomplishments, which, though he scorned them himself, he was, after the common parental infatuation, willing that the boy should profit by. Unable, through his own consciousness, of distinguishing between Van Loo’s superticial polish and the true breeding of a gentleman, he had only looked upon it as an equipment for his son which might be serviceable to‘him- self. He had told his wife the truth when he informed her of Van Loo’s fears of being reminded of their former intimacy, but he had not told her how its discontin- uance, after they had left Heavy Tree Hill, had affected her son, and how he still cher. ished his old admiration for that specious rascal. Nor had he told her how this had stung him, through his own selfish greed of the boy’s affection. Yet now that it was Possible that she had met Van Loo that evening, she might have become aware of Van Loo’s power over her child. How she would exult, for all her pretended hatred of Van Loo! How, perhaps, they had plot- ted together! How Van Loo might have become aware of the place where his son was kept, and had been bribed by the mother to tell her! He stopped in a whirl of giddy fancies. His strong comnion sense in all other things had been hitherto proof against such idle dreams or suggestions, ‘but the very strength of his parental love and jealousy had awakened in him at last the terrors of imagination. His first {mpulse had been to seek his wife, regardless of discovary or conse~ quences, at Hymettus, where she had said she was going. It was on his way to the rendezvous at Marshall's claim. But this he as ly set aside. It was lis son he must find; she might not confess, deceive him; tha boy would not, and, if his fears were correct, she could be arraigned afterward. was possible for him to Teach the liftle mission church and school Secluded in; @ remote valley by the od anciscan fathers, where he had placed the boy for the last few years unknown to his wife. If; would bs a long ride, but he could leavy Tree ward ‘ore. Marshall and the expert ar- pie A HERCULEAN TASK The Attorney General Must Go Over All Pardon Cases. MR. WKENNA AND HIS METHODS Darkness Often Finds Him Still at His Desk. ADDICTED TO THE WHEEL) TTORNEY GED eral of the United | States” might more | properly read “So- | licitor of Pardons for the United States,” | for since the great | increase in the es- | tablishment of fed- | eral courts through- | out the country the chief function of the Attorney General has been the disposition of pardon cases. President Cleveland’s Attorney Generals were, it is true, relieved of this herculean task, for Mr. Cleveland's hobby was a clos personal scrutiny of every scrap of paper | bearing upen a pardon that reached his desk, and no other President since Lincoln passed upon so many cases of this sort. The griste of pardon applications that reaches the desk of a President every year | is now close on to 700 in number, or nearly two a day, and the papers accompanying each application are of huge bulk, skill of devisement and persuasiveness—the peti- tions alone often weigh as much as an old- fashioned family Bible. President McKinley intrusts the consid- eration of this vast mass of pardon ma- terial to his Attorney General, Joseph Mc- Kenna of California, and it keeps Mr. Mc- Kenna working o’ nights and Sundays, too, to handle it. “If Mr. McKenna didn’t ride a bike,” said Private Secretary Blandford, “he wouldn't perais to keep himself in trim for the Even as it is, Mr. McKenpa sometimes exhibits an abstracted weariness to observ- Attorney General McKenna. ant visitors that portrays the strain of the work. He has often the aspect of a student | worn out by much labor under the lamp; | and.when you are ushered into his office he is apt not to be immediately able to | raise his gaze from the enormous pile of papers before him, and when he does final- ly become aware of your presence he often enough runs his hand over his eyes and looks out of the window for a moment be- fore he is fully able to throw off the ab- sorbing influence of his task. A Striking Personality. Although born in Philadelphia, Mr. Mc- Kenna’s life since his twelfth year has been passed in California, and in appearance he is much more the western man than the Quaker. He {is more active than his fifty- four years would seem to_ indica’ of middle height, and a slight, wiry frame, well-muscled and carrying the suggestion of training. His face is more like that of Senator Cullom than of any other man in public life, which is equiva- lent to saying that the general contour of his countenance is in general like that of Abraham Lincein. His eyes are of that pe- culiar “legal blue” that not only pierces Ferchments, but jooks quite through the | deeds of men. He keeps his upper lip | smooth-shaven, but his lower countenance is sown with a thick beard of gray and bronze. He wears his hair like a modern man of the world, with no striving after effect, and there is a certain swelling of his forehead at the temples that carries a leonine suggestion of mental strength. Men from California are often character- ized by an insistent breeziness, a redun- | dancy of manner that seers not in ill- accord with the redurdancy of their soil. San Francisco men especially often appear in their ordinary speech to be endeavoring to make themselves heard above the shrill roaring of the heavy blasts that forever sweep in through the Golden Gate. Judge | McKenna has m his menner none of this quality, and in speech is more the Phila- delphian than the man frem the coast. Un- less you interest him exceedingly and have known him for long, he speaks but little, and then in so low a tone that you must strain your ears to catch his words. With his intimates he raises this self-placed em- bargo-on his vocal chords; but in conversa- tion he never responds a whit to the bois- terousness of his most amusing guest, and | his chcice of words is so accurate that he leaves much to his visitor's imagination. He has the lawyer’s habit of permitting the other man to do the most of the talk- ing—“Let ‘em get the rope around their own necks,” said the elder “Choate—and thus draws him out. Genial, even amiable, as Judge McKenna is to newspaper men, for instance, he is a difficult official for the interviewer, for in response to a single query he does not do the very desirable thing of rambling off into a meaty string of generalizations. The question answered suc- cinctly, he halts and waits for the next one, with the result that the interviewer is kept on pretty much of a mental prowl for more questions. The serenity, almost the immobility, of Judge McKenna’s man- rer. fastened upon him the soubriquet of “Gentleman Joe” in San Francisco, where nicknames are so much thicker than Val- lambrosa leaves. But his suavity, while sincere, is only part of him. A Hard Worker. Judge McKenna is pronounced by old Department of the Justice officials to be the hardest working Attorney General since Garland. “It is rather a wonder to me,” said one of them, “that he does not sleep in his office.” As a committeeman in Con- Sress he displayed the same quality of in- defatigableness. He belongs to no clubs, societies or fraternities, and is therefore permitted to go to bed at a reasonable hour of nights—that is, after he leaves his of- fice at the Department of Justice, and that hour might sometimes be deemed unre: scnable for a man holding one of the high- est positions under the government. But, iu Washington, he insists upon retiring at an hour that will permit him to rise very early in the morning, for he has the very strongest sort of an appreciation of the leafage and the flowerage of this tow: say nothing of the concrete pavements; and he rides a bicycle; and to bicycle riders this should seem to leave nothing to be said as to-why the Attorney General likes to get up early in the morning. He goes a-riding on his wheel. He may be seen flitting around the streets in northwestern Washington at an hour in the morning when his clerks are dreaming of Elysium and pay day and other bright things. What is more, he rid-s like a veteran, which he is, for he was one of the first of ‘the first bri- Sade of safety wheel users. There is some- ‘hing quite interesting in the speciacle of an Attorney General of the United State: man of the greatest dignity and learnin: scudding about.at dewy morn on a raci macifin < ; but the interest grows to wonder when it is noted that he is quite capable of going along witho: At first. Mr. McKenna took up a bi his health; now he rides because he can't help himself. He has some rather fine ideas on the question of physical training—as what man who spent neurly all of his life in Benicia. the home ct the eminent pugil- ist, Joan C. Heenan, would not?—and bi- cycle riding figures at the front of them. At His Desk. Quite often Judge McKenna rides his wheel to the Department of Justice, and he ordinarily gets there not long after 8 o'clock. Then it is a case of grind—not alone upon his accumulating pile of par- ieyele for | dors, but upon the thousand other details which fall to the lot of the official who is the law representative of the United States government, the prosecuting attorney for the nation. In the first place. there are something like eighty United States attor- reys pretty busy around this country all the time, and these report to the Attorney General direct. This fact alone presents a ricture of a pile of correspondence to be answered that must be seen to be appre- ciated. Then there are about eighty United States marshals, all of whom are capable of sitting down at any hour of the day or night and writing long and intricate letters to the Attorney General, to whom they al- so report direct. This adds to the trouble. And then it not infrequently -happens that the Attorney General has to himself pre- pare a heavy and exceedingly careful brief, from which he argues in person before the United States Supreme Court. Mr. McKen- na has not himseif yet appeared in person in his capacity of Attorney Gereral before the Supreme Court to argue a case, but when he does the picture cannot help but be an interesting one, in view of the fact that it is generally believed that he him- self will become a member of that adgust court before very long. His Many Visitors. At the present time Mr. McKenna is able to pound away at the lofty heap on his | desk in peace until close on to 12 o'clock noon, when he reveives visitors. But for the first month after he took his office he was fortunate in having for’a private Secretary a man whose experience had taught him a great deal of the gentle art ef “fanning’—Mr. Blandford—who was with Mr. Olney both in the Department of Justice and the Department of State; and has the most winning way known in Wash- ington of pointing out to unwelcome callers the joys of exercise out-of-doors under the umbrageous trees. Yet even Mr. Blandford had a big job on his hands when he first .took service with Judge McKenna, for a great many hundreds of Mr. McKenna’'s callers were gentlemen of uncouth appear- unce and unconventional manners from the very wild and woolly west, who wanted to be United States marshals. Mr. Blandford, who was born and raised right here in Washington, antl whose paths are the paths of peace, himse]f admits that he quite frequently experienced sensations of extreme nervousness upon being confront- ed, in the Attorney General's a fellows “about 2ight feet high’ words—with broad, sombreros, bulging frock coats, and the uncomfortable habit of reaching to the rear pocket for their handkerchiefs. This feeling of nervous- ness often induced him against his will to conduct some of these marshal-job-seekers into the presence of the Attorney General. After a time, when he had observed the calm, fearless, smiling fashion with which these fierce-looking persons were greeted by Judge McKenna, he took heart of trace, and he is now able to expatiate to such callers with the same ease as he does to others less ferocious in appearance, upon the advantages of strolls throughout: the scented streets of the capital. The Daily Program. Judge McKenna has his chicken sandwich and bottle of apollinaris brought to him after he has dispersed his visitors, some- where near 2 o'clock, and he not uncom- monly holds the sandwich in one hand and a very ponderous looking paper in the other. Often, too, he dictates during luncheon. He has no stenographer, Mr. Blandford acting as his shorthand man in connection with his duties as private secre- tary and confidential clerk—which would make it appear that Mr. Blandford rether earns his pay. Sometimes Judge McKenna gets through with his work, or as much of it as he chooses to do for one day, by 5 o'clock in the afternoon, but a good deal oftener he does not. It does not grow dark in Washington nowadays until late, and yet the lights are often ablaze in the At- torney General’s office for a considerable period after that hour. During the summer Judge McKenna will probably find enough of a let-up in his work to do a lot of fishing hereabouts. He is a fisherman of enthusiasm, persistence and success—not an angler, but a fisher- man. If, however, he is not a scientific angler, he is certainly, according to the stories told by his California friends, a glant among hunters, He took his few va- cations in California amorg the great mountains of that state, and in those mountains there are grizzlies and “paint- ers” and other such “varmints.”” For these, it is said, Judge McKenna has gunned and gunned weil, so that the red heads and Pheasants down the bay have seemed ex- ceedingly easy to him on the gunning trips he made down that way when he was in the House of Representatives. —— ee Havana Cigars ‘That Cost $2 Aplece. From the New York Eyering World. It may interest those who are bewailing the forthcoming scarcity of fine Havana cigars to know that one rctail dealer in New York now sells and has sold for years cigars of a certain brand at $2 each. He sells on an average about four of that kind every week. An old Spanish friend of mine, who for twenty years was in the cigar bvsiness here, assures me that they cost the dealer about $1.45 each when put in his show case, so that $2 is not too much to charg? for them. The main points of their ecst are the large wags paid to the ,ex- pert workmen who make them, the very large leaves used for the “wrappers” and the duty. CONJUGAL REPARTEE. “Jack, dear, tt *° Siiay Go soem ian’t a bit nice ef you to let such small troubles worry you when I think of that.” ut using his handlebars! | SAVED BY GOL sr WaAsHING PowDER ‘What more can be asked? Only this; ask your grocer for it, and insist on trying it. Largest package—greatest economy. ‘THE-N. FAIRBANK COMPANY, Chicago, St. Louis, New York, Boston, Philadelphia, - SUBJECT, POND'S EXTRACT CHARACTER. Nortn Camprincr, Mass , May 28, 95. Nothing can equal Pond’s Extract. I have tested others, and yours is four times as strong as the best. O. G. RANDALL, M.D. POSITION Dersy, Conn., April 27, 1895. For the past thirty years I have prescribed Hamamelis extensively, and always designated Pond's Extract as the preparation. A. W. PHILuirs. RESULTS. jaa ALA., May tr, 1895. I find Pond’s Extract effectual in every case. I have used it in treating my patients. I have used it in cases of acne cuts and bruises, and for corns, toothache and neuralgia, and I myself use it on my face after shaving, and find it a delightful preparation and beneficial for every disease for which it is recommended. W. A. Brown, M.D. PROOF. BELLEFONTAINE, Miss., May 13, 1895. I have used Pond’s Extract, and find it a remedy of great value, especially as a local application to inflamed sur- faces. EY. Arnon, M.D. Hitsporo Brince, N. H. Never since I have kept housé have I been without Pond’s Extract, so it is no new thing with us. We like it and shall continue to use ii joun B. Sern, Ex-Governor of New Hampshire. cost. 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