The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 17, 1897, Page 21

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1897. 19 [Copyrighted. ] CHAPTER IIL : : Swept off my feet by nher vicile wiil, her beauty and h nt put none the less desperate sestness, and half- silencing my con ith » dread that some terrible pe e driven her to these extraordi measares, I obeyed 1 e first had me turn the ain, and I was justin e and anxious, ed atthe bel, t had covered herself up e tall old gentle- rs and bad them promptly . Then I inform-d him that his wife was suffering seriously un- der a ock, and that no one—not even he—should enter the room until I rane, ‘‘Have 1 made an examination?'’ he eagerly asked. “Yes. The bullet entered to the right of the's m. It cleared the heart, butit may have grazed the aorta or penetrated the lung. I judge thavit lodged near the spine, for she appears to have paralysis of the lower limbs. But this may be the efffet of sheek, and therefore oniy tem- guy. The wound of course is serious, as are all penetraticns of the thoracic cavity, butshe is young and healthy and will make a hoy “You will ring if a change occurs?” *1 certainly will.” He went awa but my p: and was moaning. man too . bis head bowed on his breast, but he did not forget to lock the door. She locked up at me mischievously and softly laughed, in that mirthiul, giri- ish, nalf-gargling fashion, which no ordi- nary man can res *‘The old hyp ite!” she then cried in- dignantly. ‘‘He abuses me shamefully, and now pretends to be anxiouds! I'll teach him that so long as there is true man in the world he can’t always make me the victim of his cruel whims.” rded her blood-stained garment she cried, “this is horrible! the closet there the bottom drawer on the right. That’sit. Bringme two sheets. Thank you;you ars kindness itself. Now lcok in the bottom drawer of »nier and onz, get ank me a nightdress. you. Now step after you and wait 1ill I call you.” Ina short while she summoned me, and then I saw thatshe had made all the de- sirea changes and had arranged her pretty hair most becomingly. “Now,” she commanded, “scatter some | of that medicine about the room and | Tnat will do. | make the place smell like a hosnital. me and Isten to my story. How is my puise? Ob, you needn’t be afraid! won't bite you!” “In the meantime,” I interrupted, what has become of your friend ?” “That girl who brought you? Ob,” | laughed my patient, “I sent her home— | she doesn’t live far from here. { | way. | marry him—the old beast! into the dressing-room, close the door | What do you think? She came in here blubbering | like a baby and told my husband that it broke her heart to have to treat you that I really believe that she fell in love with you. So I sent her home.” *“Oh!” “Now for my story. a convent, and this oid reprobate, my precious husband, was my guardian. 1 bad a large property, and he had nothing. When I had finished school he made me When I think of the way he has made a dog and pris- oner of me can you wonder that I am gloating over my victory to-night? Well, we were married three years ago. He very soon began to practice his contempti- ble tyrannies. For two years my life has been a torment. So, recently I began to look around for means of escape, for I in- tend to leave him. 1knew that I could never succeed without the assistance of some loyal and chivalrous man, of whom he would stand infear. ¥ * * Doyoure- member when you and I met several months ago?” She looked at me coguettishly. 1 hesi- tatingly replied tnat I must have for- gotten. Of course you have, and that’s what hurts. Tt was at the horse show. I had to work an hour to tring about the intro- duc ion, but I was determined to know the man who had writlen those wonder- ful things. But how cool and indifferent vou were! I made up my mind that I wou'd make you know me better and like me sooner or later. And tken, what more natural than that I should come to regard vou 2s my possible aeliverer? 1 tried a Come, now, and sit beside | 1| I was anorpbanin | I‘dnz.-n times after that meeting to make you recognize me on the street, but the | contemptuous glances that you gave me | showed that you thought I was enother | kind of woman. Don’t you remember | anvihing about it now?” ! Indeed I did, for those wonderful eyes | could never have been forgotten. She | | saw it in my face and hers beamed charm- | | ingly. “Oh, itdoes seem to me that the clever- | est men are the stupicest, and those most | worth knowing the hardesi to reach!” | | My patient regarded me wistfully and | ited for me to speak. | I was deeply troubled. The whole | affair bad a vad complexion and I still felt humiliation and anger. “Thisis very interesting,”’ I said. that all?"” She looked at me steadily, then, turning her face away, she added somewhat wearily: *'I believed that if you should find a helpless and suffering woman in distress yoa would cheerfully aid ker, counting the risk as nothing, and glad of an oppor- tunity to oppose your intelligence and manliness to tue dangers which beset her.”” She turned her eyes upon me again and | added: “Itis not possible that I have mistaken you. You are anery, that is all, | but it may be sutlicient 10 defeat every- | thing.” will do all thata man may do under ihe circumstances,” I said, ] “All that I want is your assistance to | escape. I have planned it thorouchly, but you arenot in a frame of mind to hear it now, and it might bedangerous totell you. | See what great confidence I have already | reposed in vou! Even if you disciose what you already know I shall be ruined.” A strangely hard and determined look | now came into her face. ‘“Well,” she ,said, rising menacingly | upon her eibow, *I know that in time you will come to trust and like me, and you | compel me to force that opportunity upon you. Furthermore, a sense of my own | safety demands it. So you may under-, stand that I have decided to keep you | here with me as long as I please!”’ Although Icould not believe that she meant it, still her worlis filled me with terror. I glanced around as might a | trapped animal. | | | | ls1 i { { | | | | | | . | | almost a timid man. [ felt the blood aistending the veins of my neck and face, and an impulse to murder the woman became irresistible. She watched me closely; ber breathing was quick, her fingers twitched. What might have hap- pened Liad she not burst into tears I do not dare consider. She protested through her sobs that she would not harm me to save her life; that she had been talking wildiy, spurred thereto by my contemptu- ous treatment ¢f her. Her speech issued more and more rapidly, half incoherent but wonderfully eloquent,and I am un- | avle now to repeat a sirzle sentence of it. Its purport was pleading and protesta- tion, so that soon, under the spell of her “You are my prisoner if I chcose,” she added in that hard, relentless manner. “I had prepared for it, for the windows ere barred and the door is guarded. You would betray me to my hu:baand! Bah! How do you know that he is my husband, or that there is a word of trath in what 1 | have been telling you? You have not the least idea of my iaentity or power. For that matter, you might drop out of the world silently to-ni-htand none of your friends be the wiser.” IVC Invested, as I knew I was, with extra- orainary dangers and terrors, I neverthe- less felt moving within me a violent spirit of rebellion—the stubborn desperation of 1 singu’ar witchery, the tenderness of my | nature awokey my anger was dissipated, | and I made the most earnest promises to be her champion. It all seems foolish as I look back upon it now, but believe me, she made me her slave completely. It was finaily agreed that Ishoald re- turn to my spartments that night blind- | folded; that I should see her in a similar fashion every night until her supposed | wound had healed and plans for her es- cape been matured; that at present I was to know nothing of the identity of the persons of the honsehold; and that this night I sbould take with me soma of her | know me. more valuable jewels and small articles of | Fowler. wear in a valise, which I should deliver to | and despite my unhappiness 1 exerted | her after her escape. | “But how,” I asked, “can I explain the | the more talkative one, asked me a great valise to your husband 7’ many questions about myself, all with a *There you go again! Can’t you trust | flatiering interest that made meloqua- to my ingenuity? Have I made a mistake | cious. Finally he proposed that we go out so far? In the note which I wrote before , and get a cigar. Mr. Fowler declared that [ trust, | | shooting myself I explained that >oms! things belonging to a friend of mine were in the valise and thatI wanted it de- livered to her. You will discharge that you see, Keep the valise in your rooms for the present. We understand each other, don’t we? Now, hand me mrself properly ghastly for my husband. Thank you.” I got the valise from the closet, rang for the husband, and when I told him that his wife was doing well he looked infin- itely relieved. It was explained that he He warmly pressed my hand and forced some gold coins upon me. After being blindfolded I was led down to the carriape, John bringing the vatise. The route of the carriaze was purposely doubled and twisted to confuse me. Just beiore my rooms were reached the band- age was removed. The time was long after midnight. “‘At 10 o’clock to-morrow night, sir?” asked John. *Yes; I shall expect you then.” At 10 the next evening I stood waiting for the carriage, and 1 confess that I was eazer to see my patient again. The min- utes passed, but the carriage did not ap- pear. A long hali-hour dragged by. At 11 I began to wonder seriously. At mid night I went up to my rooms sick and wretched. At1 I went to bed, accusing myself bitterly for my shortcomings of the night before. I concluded that the un- bappy woman, after turning the matter over, had repented her selection of me and had been humiliated by my cold re- | ception of the affection which she had so recklessly lavished upon me. It was then that I realized how deeply I had become attached to her and how hard was the thoughi of losing her. Her | misery, her daring scheme for escape, the ngenuity and boldness with which she had entrapped mein order to have me near her and my assistance in her flight, the shrewdness with which she had de- ceived all the members of her housenold, and ber singular heauty and the match- less witchery of r charm—all came to me now with force and filled me with wretchedness. Why had I not been more |of a man? She had idealized me and then | found me contemptible. What would be- | come of ner? It was impossible for me | to find the house alone. The next day Iwas ill. Another silent night passed. The following day two | strangers called upon me, bringing a note of introduction from a man whom I knew. It explained that the gentlemen were travelers and had expressed a desire to They were named Martin and Both were gentlemanly fellows, | imy-e.( to entertain them. Mr. Martin, tonat bostle of white stuff and I'll make | was to send for me the following night. | he did not smoke, and said that he would remain until we shou!d return. At the cigar-stand Mr. Martin began the narration of a thrilling experience of his, . and this delayed our return. We found ! Mr. Fowler reading when we went back. | I thoughtI intercepted a swift signal from { Mr. Fowler to Mr. Martin, but before I could ponder it I was amazed at a sudden change which came iato Mr. Martin’s manner. Witk polite insoleuce he stunned me with this speech: “I must inform you, sir, that the note of introduction was a forgery, and that instead of being gentlemen traveling for pleasure we are detectives attached to the United States Secret Service. /Idesire you to produce a valise which you have in your possession.’’ My heart sank. ‘‘I—I—don’t under- | stand you,” I stammered. “Of course not. Bring it out, Fowler.” “And s0,” I said, furious and indignant, “while you inveigle me out of my rooms Mr. Fowler ransacks them!” “It won’t do you any good to lose your temper,”’ said Martin. *“In dealing with sharpers we ourselves have to be sharp.” Fowler produced and opened the valise, and one by one removed the articles there= from. I was overcome with dismay, for, little as I knew avout such things, I real- ized that I was beholding a complete out- fit for manufacturing counterfeit money. | I stood speechless and aghast. Martin ‘ watched me narrowly. The valise yielded | also some coins. i “Now,” said Martin, “let’s see if we | can’t match these coins. Turn outall you | have in your pockets.” | Ifeltsooutraged and angry that I was about to refuse, but, reflecting that this would only make matters worse for me, I complied. I still had the money which | the woman’s husband had given me, ex- | cept two pieces, which I had spent. They | were $5 gold coins. Martin examined | them and said: ““Yes, these are counterfeit and wers made with this outfit. You have been rather reckless in shoving them, as we have found two or three around town that you had disposed of. Now, sir, are under arrest and can do your t. ing behind bars.’”” He regarded me with a smiling, cynical, mocking admiration. **And =0 it was you!”’ he exclaimed ; “and posing here as a writer! It is no wonder | that when men of your caliber go into the business we have to go without sieep. | Get ready, for we must go.”” I was in despair. Did I still love the woman, after realizing how deplorable a dupe she had made of me? *I want a few minutes to think,” I said, sinking into a chair. *I may decide to make a statement.”’ *You ougit to have had that ready long | ago, you disappoint me,” said Martin. | | i [To be continued next week.] THE VANISH Where once they owned vast tracts of land and countless herds of cattle, they now possess little stock and less land. This is & quotation from a current news item which applies to the Miramontes i2mily of San Mateo County. Alrs. M. C, de Miramontes recently com- fcn-ed insolvency proceedings in the s or Cotirt of the county above men- over $6000 and ascets ¢ sonal property valued at $1 Mrs. Miramontes does not like lawyers. This premise is hardly necessary in view of the lady’s remarks on this head to the representative of this paper, who called to gifer condolences and learn the cause of sdescent from zffluence to bankraptey. In all fairness, the antipathy to the legal fraternits ed to can scarce be termed of a fan | nature or due to wo- man's capricicusness. ¥or the experi- ences which have been the lot of the Miramontes family are not calculated to sisting of per- instil a love of legal lore in the breast of | to me. il st P torfuil | oned, with total liabilities amounting to | g Al ING OF A VAST ESTATE any one undergoing them or to increase a faith in mankind, however robust tnat confidence may once have pecn. That the Miramontes family enjoys the | respect and sympathy of the community | will become aquickly apparent to any one who alights at Reawood City on a mission of inquiry. The Miramontes homestead on Arguelio street is only a couple of blocks from the depot: Itis valued at $3000, but in com- mon with the rest of heavily mortgaged. The door was opened by a young lady, pleasant to look at, and bearing with her anair of marked refine- ment. The room was furnished with quiet elegance. A number of oil paintings caught the eve, for one ofthe Miramontes girls is an artist of no mean ability. The davghter baving ushered in her mother, withdrew, leaving the elder lady to do the talking. Mrs. Miramontes speaks ra lish perfectly, with just a trace of Spanish | softening of the harsher zonsonants. “No,” said Mrs. Miramontes in answer to a question; *that is a mistake. The great Miramontes rancho never belonged e “ i i nunmmmm o3 gl wr] M//, "Wl /] NL the proverty is It is true my husband’s father | 1 owned a large portion of it. Itislocated on the otker side of the mountains—the | place they call Halfmoon Bay. L s, it is urue, I once owned a great deal of property. But (with an expressive shrug) the lawyers have got 1t all. The | o8 M VOODSIDE, the New Hous: “La Grande Casa” Bui't on the Rancho Canada de Raymundo by the Mira- montes Family Some Two Hundred Yards From the OIld Adobe. | property of our family consisted of the Copinter grant. In thosedays everything lin the way of land was purcbased by grants. The ranch comprised 14,445 acres | | and was known as La Canada de Rey- | murdo. We had a great many cattle, | several immense bands of horses and countless sheep. | “*Of course, when I married my husband | things had changed very much. Litga- | tion with a neighbor, which but for their | | rascally agent woula never have been | | commenced, had already swallowed up | much of the property. There are 15000 | acres under litigation to this day at Wash- whereby he is to have 500 acres if I win. “You see,” continued Mrs. Miramontes, “the Las Pulgas rancho, owned by a fam- ily named Argueilo, bounds ours, and the litigation is over the boundary line of the two ranches. The Arcuellos beinz the st settlers, our boundary line had to be fixed by theirs. Now, their land ex- tended a league from the bay. Afterth got an agent they claimea two league: which cuts off a big slice of our property. You know, a leazue is a lot of land. were very friendly, Ives would have set- tied the matter amicably. But there was their agent. He succeeded in stirring up lega! sirife between us, although the mem- bers of the two families were on the best of terms. “You must know,” continued Mrs, Miramontes, after a pause, “that a great | many of our people, in the eariy days, really enjoved their possessions. They | feasted and danced, had their barbecues and a right roval good time. With us it was notso. svending money in that way. She woud entertain with the usual Spanish hospi- tality, but she also saved a great deal. But what's the difference? The lawyers have it all, big or little. “To give you an instance. Soon afte: my marriage the lawyer who had been do- My mother did not believe in | 'HONORS WON BY TWO PRETTY GALIFORNIA GIRLS. All remember the beautiful picture pre- | der. Atthat time Miss Lincoln personated 'ing the entire week by Miss Lincoln, sented in the person of Miss Francesca Lincoln (familiarly known here in her old home as Miss Frank Wakeman) dur- Queen Caroline most acceptably; and later, when the company went to New Orleans, and Miss Kidder was so ill, the | ing her engagement with Kathryn Kid- | part of Mme. Sans Gene was filled dur- i ing my business came to me with a piece | of paper to sign. He said it would cancel a small debt. He read me, and it seemed all right. After my signature had been attsched I discovered 1bad mortgaged the whole of my prop- erty for a paltry $1809, without even re- ceiving the money. 1 took the case into the courts and the matter was straight- ened out. This process cost so much, however, that I was but little better off by the time we got through. ‘*‘All our money has gonein lawyers’ fees, and_I suppose the last cent will go the same road. Ever since I have had property I have always paid my bills to the utmost, and I would havedone so now if they had lei me alone. “I am driven into a corner, and propose | to devote what litile I have left to paying my children back the money they lent me for this litigation. Itis the last chance I shall have to do so. I have striven to raise them so that they will be able to support themselves. One of my giris is R ] “WOODSIDE,’ the Oldest Building in San Mateo County, Located ington. Should it ever be decided in my | an artist and telegraph ojerator. The favor it will make a big difference to me. | other is a stenograpber and typewriter. Ishall be arich woman again.” A third girl is in the city in the raillinery on the Rancho Canada de Raymundo. Her Parents Were All Born and Raised in This Adobe. *» Mrs. Miramontes -and “But won’t the lawyers get that, too?"’ was suggested. | “No, sir!” asserted the lady with spirit. “I have an arrangement with tke lawyer | business. My boy is working at Palo Alto | as a carpenter. “My husband is a very fine vaquero, | but, as you know, there is little or no | the document to | work of that nature around here and less of it anywhere in the State every vear. He drives a span of horses and makes a little money now and again teaming.”’ So thus has dwindled a vast estate, once almost a kingdom in extent. something of mystery, since under no Circumstances are visitors permitted to enter the sacred precincis cf the apart- in which they earn their aaily this rule is made for the pur- lding the ladie<, who look far ating in their workaday irom the critical gaze of the pose of sh from wrapy curbus ¢:owds who daily ream through | the different mint buildings, or whether the Government fears that visitors will distmet the a ployts, and thus cause them to make mis- iakedto its disadvantage, is an open ques- tion. Cerwix it is, however, that no temple of Dians was ever more strictly protected fom ‘Vision than are the adjusting- rooms of he coiners’ everjlocale. Perhaps all THE CALL read- ers Dot now that the San Francisco Mid is nC longer a “‘branch,” but, to- retlN: with the other four Government establishmens for making money—lo- cated at Phildeiphia, New Orleans, Char- lottesville and Carsop City, is entitled to the dignity of seing calleq o mint, with- ouftny belittlig adjeciive prefixed, The work of women in the mints is, with the excepon of one indy assistant bookkeeper and . janitress, entirely done in the adjusiing epartment, There are department, wher- | ention of its feminine em- | present employed in n Fifth street. We occupy two rooms, separated by the chief adjuster’s office, and are celled, according 10 our work, first or second weighers and “light” and “heavy” weighers. us, 100, is known as a “scratcher,” but her business i<, odaly enough, not to make scratches, but to smooth them out. We are il required to be in the build- ing and ready for work before 9 o’clock each morning, and must start in promptly on the stroke of the bell. Over our street dre ses we wear aprons and sleeves of Holiand iinen, supplied and laundried at Government exvense, and when working on silver, which iz very hard on the hands, we wear thick chamois leather gloves, which are also provided without expense | to ourselves. Our work-benches are white marble topped tables, which reach almost the length of the room. When silver coinage is going on boxes containing 1000 blanks are placed in front of each woman, and the contents are arranged by her in piles of from twentv to twenty-five, These blanks which are sent up from the cutters look for all the world like the disks of tin which children bez from tinshops to **play money with,” except that they are | thicker. t Taking each pile in the left hand and revolving it slowiy with-the right, we look the edges over carefully for “‘breaks,” One of | £ £ WOMENS WORK IN THE MINT The work done by women 1n the various (forty-nine of us at United States mints is surrounded by | the big building o | pieces which are not perfect being at once | discarded. The surface of each piece is | also scrutinized closely {or flaws and im- | perfections of anv kind, and then each is weighed in our scales to separate the “lights’ from the “heavies.” Two pans are fitted snugly in our bal- ances, one at the left to reczive the lighter | and one just at the back for the heavier | blanks. These pans when full are emp- | tied into larger ones, which are carried to the cond’’ weighers, whose scales are adjusted accurately to the pre- scribed limit of weight. Blanks that are found to be too light or too heavy, ex- ceeding the Government allowance for deviation from an exact standard, and ulso those which are broken or faulty in any way, are remelied and cut over again, The handling of gold is somewhat dif- | ferent, thougn the first processes—the | piling and examination of surfaces and edges—are the same. Ail doubtful pieces are thrown on the table to test their perfection of sound. We then wrap the thumb and first three fingers of the left hand with strips of old gloves, heid in place by a wire thread sup- | plied for that purpose. Each gold piece is weighed, going it light into the light pan. 1If it is found to be heavy it is taken between the thumb and first finger of the protected hand and the edge is revoived sgainst an ordinary eight-inch file, care being exercised not to over-file and make a “light” of it, which | sometimes happens, however, as a very | slight pressure of the rough steel will take it below tbe standard mark. | Thesecond weighers go over the pieces | again, thos - belng below the standara to |an appreciable degree being conaemned. The amount of work necessary depends on the accuracy of the cutters, who occasion- | ally but not often send up blanks 0 heavy | that a good deal of filing has to be done upon them and the business of the room is retarded. The *'scratcher” is a lady who, after a cer:ain amount of the day’s work is done, collects the broken or marred pleces, among which are blanks which come up from the cntters scraicned on the sur- faces. Ifthe sc-a'ch is deep the piece is condemned, but if it is a slight surface scratch it is carefally smoothed out with anestrument designed for that purpose. ¥rom the adjusting-rooms the blanks 'y to the milling-room, where the raiced edge is made; then to the cleaning-room, Where they are made bright and shining. After this they are pressed, the imprint on both sides and the corrugated edge—erro- neousiy called the “milling” by many— being made at the same time and by one movement, Women, however, have nothing to do with them, inside the Mint, after they leave the adjusting depart- ment, | i 1 | | | calls out that there is S ‘When the day’s work is over our files and finger coverings are freed from all receive all the filings made. When em- ployed in this work we wear leather aprons put around our necks bib-fashion, with the lower end fastened to the drawer before us, and these, too, are cleaned off very particularly, The drawer is emptied upon the marble table-top, care being taken that not a grain is left in the corners of the zinc- covered inside, The dust is then swept off the table into a pan and carried to the chief adjuster’s office to be weighed with the other work. A certain amount is al- lowed for waste dust, which is usually made up in the regular general cleaning and burning of the carpets. Once in a while, when we are about ready to start ‘or home, the chief adjuster A “‘piece missing,” This is provoking, for every one has to go back to her place while a ceneral search is made for the truant coin. It1s usually found in some corner into which it has apparently rolled and lain hidden for the express purpose of hindering us when we are anxious o get home. One piece, how- ever, proved a mystery to usall for over three months, as no amount of search could Ering it to light; butat the expira- tion of that time it was found by the jani- tors away back in a little pile of ashes in corner under the grate. ~ A WoRkEr. | dust that has adiered to them, over the | table-drawers which have been opened to 1 | with whom the management expressed | great satisfaction. | Miss Lincoln is at present considering | the acceptance of one out of several offers from Eastern managers. Among the young women much to be | commended in respect of histrionic ability | is Miss Ethel Hornick of Oakland. Dur- | ing the past few years her work at the | Emerson School of Oratory, in Boston, | has been eminently successtui. Then, too, as instructor at Dean Academy, she | has gained a considerable reputation. But } it is as leading lady of the Criterion Club that Boston knows her best. Here she | has scored immense successes in diverse roles, and it was here that her versatility | was allowed full scope. | Despite the fact that Miss Hornick was offered large increase of salary to remain in Boston, she vielded to her impulse to travel, and accepted Mr. Daly’s offer to | go abroad, and played Celia to Miss | Rehan’s Rosalind on the banks of ihe | Avon. | It was Miss Hornick’s birthday and lperhaps a fitting time for her debut be- !1orc an English audience. However that | may be, the fact that she was chosen | (out of ten) to play Celia at the opening | performance surprised and pleased her. | Her Celia is spoken of by the Standard as being “‘both pleasing and graceful.” | | |