The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 12, 1902, Page 5

times, he is all lawyer—and that is not Jobn yet. But I am afraid.” The outburst startled Hannum, as much &s it surprised Bannerton. “I am not so bad, am I?” asked Han- eaily hurt. not yet,” said the artist, inno- cently CHAPTER XIX. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. In truth there was some force in what hutide haa sa.d concerming the inadv.s- conunung ihe attack on tie T uwell haa skil.fuliy and stood before tne reauy 10 iislen (o lne Voice of the Llie ordinance was mereiy in the of the cudmittee. It could ve ssed by all c.tizens desirous of be- card before any aefinite action was Besides, and the sea that passed by the public, the business men workers for wages, had littie such an ordinance would be the Council. 1t was too plain et It was & measure whicn gave the company Vast poweis and auvantages at the expense oi the peupie. So Snuttle, vith gooa judgment, and his judgment was generally good when the logic of the situation cailed for non-action, was si- ent, and there was no revival of the subject in the columns of The Watchman. Un this condition of affairs Shuttle umed himself, and did not fail to call lliotson’s attention to it, saying: “I knew they would not pass it. They lize they have made a mustake. I told 1l so myself. tnere came to Bannerton a personal note, asking him to call that evening at the Bidwell home. It put the matter in the form of a personal favor, and Bannerton had no recourse but to give an affirmative answer to the messen- ger who brought the missive and waited Zor a reply. The appointment brought back thoughts of (h, if it could truthfuily be said she was ever entirely out of his thoughts. It freshened and made more vivid the recollections of the many happy hours they had spent together in the past; some of them in the old house that he was about to enter again under dif- erent circumstanc He would at last breathe the air that she had breathed, bé In the atmosphere in which she moved. He would sce the dainty things arranged 2s she had placed them with her own hands, and perhaps he might meet her. He was startied at this thought, and was half resolved to send an excuse to Bid- well, and call at his office’ the next day. Lut no! That was nonsense. There was no danger of Bidwell throwing them together, There was a light in the parlor of the Bidwell home when Hugh rang the door- bell, and a moment later he was ushered in, the old servant bowing and calling by name. As he stepped into the arawing-room there was the rustle of a . @nd the next instant he and Edith ood face to face. she gasped, her face turning hi; Instantly, by a sudden and overpow- or!ng_ impulse, he seized her hands and crie “Bdith! Edith! You called me Hugh. It was your heart that spoke, else that pame would not have sprung to your ips. She hung her head and struggled feebly to release her grasp. You—you—you have no right—" Right we cried. “I have the right. Who has a better right to call you Edith then I—I, who have loved you all these ¥ Yes,” he went on, almost fiercely, “I have loved you, Edith, oh, so much! I was 1 fool. I should have told you so long ago. 1 wrote you a cruel and fool- leh letter, but it was sent when I was blinded by jealousy. It was as if my wife had smiled on others before my eyes; for 1 bad never thought that you would care for any man but me. I grew to think you belonged to me and that I was yours. 1 was blind; I have been cruel; and, after at, proud and stubborn. Oh, forgive ine, my darling, and tell me that you love me. Edith, I have loved you—only you. Without_you my life would not be worth living. [Edith, tell me that you love me. Just one word.” She trembled for an instant. He threw his erms about her, drew her to him and covered her head with kisses. hands from his “My own little sweetheart, come back to be wife,” he murmured. *“No man shall put us asunder now.” There was a hard cough, and he turned h d to find Henry Bidwell standing them. His Jook was one that be- i neither surprise nor displeasure. are suddeniy very much at home, he said, with a smile. “I have in. advertently entered at what might be led a thrilling moment.” “Mr. Bidwell” said Hugh, turning about, and at the same time releasing the girl, who stood with downecast eyes, “I love your niece, and—and—she loves me. I—we—ask your blessing.” “I am a cautious and a careful man,” returned Bidwell, at the same time taking Edith by the arm and leading her from the room. “The happiness of my niece Is 2 matter not to be lightly considered or quickly acted upon.” He returned presently and said, speak- ing very softly ““I sent for you in relation to a business matter that is of the highest importance ic me. You are in a position to do me a favor, and at the same time make 2 handsome profit for yourself. Business before pleasure has always been my moetto, and, as love is something of a pleasure, aithough largely a matter of business, nowadays, I prefer to consider the criginal proposition for which I brought you here. Be seated, for our business may take some time. “Hugh Bannerton,” began Bidwell, still speaking in his oily tones, “you have scmething that T want. It s in your power, by acceding to my wishes, to ren- der 2 great service to me—to save me the possible loss of a million dollars.” “I have no idea what I have that you can want,” returned Hugh, not aware that Bidwell was on the track of the missing stock. “Te ically true, perhap: said Bid- well, “but I shall see that you fully un- derstand. You rode one night from this city, carrying $20,000,” and a little note of bitterness crept into his voice. ““The’next morning you stood in the Malden bank 2nd bought that which would have filled out the last link in my chain and made consummation of plans involving ession of vast and valuable rights. Do you understand?” él understend,” replied Hugh, firmly. *“Go on.” wy L want that stock,” continued Bidwell. I will pay you $:0,00 for it, cash in {\:;;dy_, It is a fair profit for your ven- ““The stock is not in my hands, Mr. Bid- well. I could not sell it would,” said the young man‘.o g ¥ “You quibble,”” said Bidwell, “I will §2y you 2 commission uy it for me at the price named. Na; ' 1 :uvlnf.yn.l;‘b?{'l reward 1f you will teli m 0 holds it now, even me who hold ven should I fail “Mr. Bidwell.” sald Hugh, “I can tell you nothing. I am bound b, that T cannot break.” 73 P 'or & moment Bidwell sat st face of the man before him. "sdofl'éfhfx’:; in the firm jaw and the fearless eyes told him there was an indomitable spirit be. hind them. He sprang to his feet with . Banmerton,” he satd & h “Bannerton,” he n a hoarse whis- per, “do not make the mistake of y};:r life. This means everything to me. It is a clnlno:“thn few ¥e‘|‘z %uve had with me. I will requite. Take back w 2 bave just said.” PRL o “I have promised,” repeated Hugh. Buddenly Bidwell's. mood changed. “You have chosen to stand in my path, to defy me, to threaten a mighty project that involves millions,” he cried. “Now, listen to me. You love my niece, and you say she loves you. She is bound by a promise to her dying father to obey my Wwisnes. Besides, her small property is held in my name. 1am tied by no bonds, and scarcely by any obligation, for, as I made it for her father, it is mine to take away. Refuse what I bave asked, and she shall never be your wife. She shall g0 forth a beggar in the world, unless she marries Herman Sprogel. Accede to my simple request, and she shall become your wife. I promise it, on my word of honor.” “Your word of honor!” cried Hugh in scorn, springing to his feet, and thrust- ing his head forward. “Your word of honor! Your honor is as base as the alioy that goes to harden your gold. Your hon- or! You stand here and seek to move me from an honorable course by threatening to ruin the life of your sister's daughter, an innocent girl, flesh and blood of the of $20,000 if you will mother that bore you both. You tempt. me by offering me that for which I would give all but my life; nay, by threatening one for whom I would gladly yield my life to save her from the fate you plan for her. But I give you my answer now. No! God help Edith and God help me! but no 1= my answe: “Think what you are doing.” ecried Bid- well, in pleading, almost wailing tones. 'I';fhlnk of what is involved for all of us top!” commanded Hugh, throwing up his hands and motioning the other not to, approach nearer. “Let me out of here before I—I—I- At sight of the outstretched hands be- fore him Bidwell became the color of chalk, his eyes fixed on the open paims of the younger man. Then he sank helpless into the chair behind him, and Hugh turred and dashed from the room. “Those thumbs! Those short thumbs!" muttered Bidwell, clutching 2t the arms of the chair. “What do they mean’ Where did he get them?” He staggered to his feet and made his way to his room, clinging to the stair railing and ascending very slowly, for he had become verv weak. And all the while he mumbled: “Those hands! Those thumbs!"” repeat- ing it over and over again. W pen shall adequately depict the emotions of a2 human mind when great counter currents meet? For a time Ban- nerton’s rage and hatred of Bidwell held sway within him, and he had no thought save to thwart him and taste of revenge. The fate which awaited Edith maddened him, for if a promise was sacred to him, how much more would it be hallowed by the circumstances under which here was given! For a moment he was tempted to return and reveal all to the dangerous and cruel man, who would otherwise ruin the life of the one he loved. Would not the end justify the means? But he hesi- tated only for a moment. He could not betray his friends, and the cause for which they were fighting. He could not break his word, pledged as he was by what was to him the most sacred of oaths—his word of honor. Be- sides, knowing Bidwell's and his unscrupulous use he knew not what might befall the woman who had been zll but a mother to him. No: he had given the right an- swer, and he must stand by it. The thought that Edith loved him. that she had told him so by one look that meant more than words, now burst upon him like a flood of sunlight from behind & bank of storm-clouds. He was bathed in its full“radiance. A great and pure joy filled his heart, and he was raised to a supreme height. She loved him: her eves had told him so; he was forgiven: he had come again to the place in her heart which had always been his. His cup of sweet and tender joy overflowed at the thought. and for the moment he was happy. Then the ' black cloud of Bidwell's power shut off the light again. Back in his lodgings, whither he had hurried after rushing from the Bidwell mansion. he tried to calm himself, ard think rationallv over the events of the evening. The call to the house was a part of Bidwell's plan,*and Edith had been led to expect some one else. Her look of surprise was too genuine for him to suspect her of complicity, even were he inclined to do so. Was it Sprogel or Hannum whom she expected to find when she entered the parlor? She came smil- ing, so it must have been Hannum! A pang of jealousy shot through him. But it vanished in an instant, for did she not Jove h Hugh Bannerton, and him alone? it was a great temptation that Bidwell had prepared for him. On ohe hand was wealth, position, and the hand of the woman he loved: on the other, trial and tribulation. the loss of the one he loved, and suffering to her. On one hand was everything material, on the other an empty thing called Honor—a phrase, an exvression, the very thing without which men prospered and thrived, were revered by other men, and filled the seats of the mighty. And yet, even as he sat in his humble lodgings. and looked back on the drama of the night. he had no regrets for his course. There was something within him that told him he had done right, and that something ruled. '&he words of Locksley recurrefl to him: T will be the slave of no man! and a flerce and strong resolution also became part of him until he tingled in every fiber of his being. Who would tear aside the veil and look upon the heart of a young woman, throb; bing with the new life of a pure love? But may we not take one glance at Edith, and in that moment see, contrasted with the storm-swept features of Bannerton. her sweet and tender face as she slept that night, while he writhed in wakeful agony? To Mrs. Warrington Bannerton came at once with the story of the ordeal through which. he had nassed. for ¢a whom_else could he go with his bursting heart? She listened to all, with no sign of feeling beyond a certain tightening of the lines about her mouth, when he came to the part where he told of Bidwell's i ieh,» abe =aid, when he had finished. “jt was a_good night, for you have won that which good men hold priceless—the love of an honest woman. For the rest, we are not so sure that Henry Bidwell can do as he plans. He will come to me, now that he knows that you have had a part in securing the stock he coveted, and which is so essential to him. We shall clash, and perhaps he may find he has met with a will as strong as his n. o‘xBut what will Edith think?” ecried Hugh. “I must see her. She is under his influence, in his power, and what may he v 509 = 1-(!3{;‘:,"? wered Mrs. Warrington, “the sooner a man trusts the woman he loves the better it is for him and for e As she spoke, the maid brought Bid- ell's card to her. i w"He is below,” she sald. “Wait, and perhaps there will be something for you to_hear when I return.” Bidwell's smiling face showed no trace of the strain under which he had been, nor of the passion which had torn him the night before. It was yet early in the day, and he thought himself earlier than Ban- nerton in seeing the woman who had so long been his friend. & “Tt is a beautiful morning,” he said, smiling, and with some attempt at the old easy manner with her, “but the bright- ness of the morning fades when I see your s “It_is not probable, Henry,” she said, in a sad yet firm tone, ‘““that you have come s0 early in the morning merely to pay me high-flown compliments. It is not Ig(e you. What is the nature of your call? “Business, madam, business,” returned Bidwell, suddenly changing his tone. “I will be blunt about it, too. There is a certain block of The Watchman that I am desirous '(.11 po!&e‘s:lnr%.rl willing to pay almost any price He t‘(opp‘e’g and looked at her intently. “Well,” she sald, ‘“do you take my house for a branch of the stock exchange? 1e your trouble coming back, Henry? "Is another lapse?”’ ‘hésldwell winced, and his face twitched, but he controlled himself with an effort. “Mrs. Warrington,” he said, “I will be brief, and to the point. A certain block of stock was bought from the Malden Bank at _just at the time-when it was es- sential 1 should obtain it. That stock was bought by Hugh Bannerton, your— our—" < “Stop!” she cried, “not the second time. My ward, my friend.” “I beg your pardon,” he said, smiling, “you have taken the words from my mouth. Well, your friend has this stock, or knows. where it is. I want that stock, and I must have it.” “Must is a strong word, Henry,” re- turned the woman, calmly. “I said I mi and I mean it,” cried Bidwell. “This young man will rue it it he crosses me in this matter. I come to you that you may use your influence with him. He is young, he has much at utgks, and I tell you I must have this stock.” “And if he should choose to deny you? inquired Mrs. Warrington, languidly. “What then, Henrv?” “Then,” cried Bidwell, throwing aside all pretense of softness, “then I shall ruin him, and perhaps secure the stock, afier all, ““You shall do nothing of the kind, Henry Bidwell,” replied Mrs. Warrington, rising. ~'I will protect him, and as for the stock, it will never come to your hands. You have chosen to forget your breeding, and have come to this house with threats on your lips. Let me give you a word of Wwarning. The day you bring harm to Hugh Bannerton you raise up a man in your path who will bring you down in de- feat. The blood of men who fought and bled with Bruce flows in his veins, and woe betide you when once his arm is raised against you.” “A boy,” sneered Bidwell, rising, and With more than his usual color in his face: ‘a hare-brained youth, without a dollar, and bardly cxrable of filling the petty fl“e 1 gave him. May I ask, my dear stock I am rs. Warrington, who ®ow makes threats?” "a’gdd?'" she answered, sharp and quick, mean them, too. been enough between us. Before we part let me add one word, and that is that Edith Crosby can always find a home and protection here.” “So the “Ha!” exclaimed the man. has been here thus early. young man i:er}l;am—rfie-" “Henry Bidwell.” she cried, flercely, “do not be a blackguard, even if you are a coward. Do not take advantage of what was a moment of weakness when I was younger than I am now. Remember. I But there has am a woman, and you should bé a gen- tieman.” * The poise, the proud look in her: eyes, transfixed the man. His aim, his en- Erosalng purposes, vaniched. With a new ht in his gyea. he stepped toward her. Kate!” he exc.aimed. “Back!" she cried, at the same time rcaching for the bellcord. ‘‘Another ste; forward, another word, and ]rnu shall leave {l-.u house in a manner {ll-befitting a gcntleman.” idwell paused, bowed low and left the oom. A few moments later Mrs. Warrington told Bannerton of the visit of Bidwell and *quickly went over the object of his Call, “Trere was not the slightest trage o the passions that had swayed her during the stormy interview and Bannerton en- vied and admired her as she sat beside him, so cool and self-possessed. “‘Hugh,” she sald in part. “T often wait. It was the power to wait that made Grant the great man that he was. Return to your duties. keep aloof from the fight, and when the time comes you shall have a part in it, as I have promised. In the meantime, do not try tc see Eidth. CHAPTER XX. THE SPIRIT AND THE -LETTER. Worn tu a keen edge, but desperaie and deriug, biluweil weu Saw Lhal Lnele was Nu Lase Lo e lust, ana accurding.y gave lue Siglids tor a renewal ot tne vatle ror Lue Iranchise. Lhe aiaermaiie cominitiee arew a luvorabie report anu preparea to sena the cramance o the Council with its approval ‘inis action staggered Shut- tle wuen he heard of it Chagrined, aiarmed and shocked, he turneu the full force of t'he Waichman on biuweil and ls associates. 1t was a bruaacast that mage Lea,ow, the banker siuduci, that shook even the stolidity of the nughty dpruget and that maue Biaweil pause. ke at ouce gave tne word to hold offt and came out in the evening papers acploring a renewal of strife in tne beau- titul city. He ploposed that the business 1men of “the city snould be heard by the committee Letore any action shouid be taken. Then he summoned Sprogel and Led:ow. It is up to us, gentlemen,” he said; ‘‘we must send every man ot standing in this city berore that committee prepared to pleaa our cause.” sBut will they do it?' asked Ledlow. ;‘Can they heip themselves?' demanded Bidwell. ““This is no time for squeamish- ness, Ledlow. You must put forth ail the power of your bank to help us. Every man that owes a cent, that has an accom- modation frorth you, must come to the fiont now. Let them _squeal, if they will, but do not reient. Be inflexible. You, Sprogel, must take a hand. You have vast dealings, and many men are under obligations to you. You have help- ed many. They must help you now.” ‘Tell me whom you want, and I will get them,” mumbled Sprogel, sturdily. “I have their names,” said Biawell. “It is what I have been doing many a night when you were asleep.” “Don’t be so sure 1 was asleep,’” inter- Jected Sprogel, with his rumbling laugh. ‘“We must move quickly, and carry the thing by force of public sentiment,” went on Bidwell, not heeding the interruption. “We can make the sentiment, and we have the advantage of making it from the top. It is the true republican doc- trine, and it wins. The mass will follow the class. The business men will give us a weight that will impress those Alder- men who cannot be touched by money. Stand firm, and we shall carry this thing through as sure as my name is Henry Bidwell. I will arrange for the hearing of the business men and prominent citi- zens by the committee. In the mean time, I will send some good men to catch the ear of Shuttle. He is always ready to be fair, you know." “A good fellow, but light, very light,” said the heavy Sprogel. In the midst of ail this Bidwell had contrived to drop & word in the ear of August Himmell, president of the board of which Bannerton was secretary. It was scarcely more than a word, a hint, a ehrug, a half admission; but it was suffi- cient. The result came at a meeting of the board, called at once by President Himmell. “Gentlemen,” he ' said, clearing his throat, “I have called you together be- cause 1 have a painful duty to perform. It is one of the most painful dutles I have ever, in my long public career, been compelled to perform. 1 desire to do it in as delicate a manner as posible. I ask for the resignation of our secretary here on the charge of having solicited a bribe from the Hon. Henry Bidwell.” The whole thing was so sudden, and so absurd, that Bannerton burst out laugh- ng. %he commissioners remained solemn and stiff; the president turned first red, and then purple. ““You are insulting the commissioners.” he sputtered, “and you will find that this is no laughing matter.” “Gentlemen, I beg your pardon. But, really, this is too absurd,” said Banner- ton, a dim sense of his danger coming to him. “Does Mr. Bidwell make his.charges in writing?” “He does not,” answered President Himmell. “Mr. Bidwell is a kindly and humane man. He is a friend of yours, and it was only through a slip of the tongue that he let it out.” “Gentlemen,” said Hugh, “I brand these charges as false and infamous. If Mr. Bidwell will put them in writing, I shall seek the redress that the courts will “Hold on,” cried Himmell. “I do not formally make such a charge, and neither does Mr. Bidwell. But [ do now make some formal charges against you, Mr Secretary. It is that you were absent from the office without leave for two weeks.” “I had the consent of the other two commissioners in a’oul_‘_ absence, and it s my le; vacation. wfilt "Nassal":ot formally acted upon by the board,” insisted Himmell. *‘Besides, that it not all. You have schniffed at me: yes, sir, schniffed at me. Not once, but a dozen times, you have schniffed. Now, it is to this. Either I resign, or you do. Here, I come prepared,” he cried, drawing forth a voluminous document. which he spread out on the table in front of him. “It is my resignation. Either I go, or you do, Mr. Bannerton. The commissioners, my brother commissioners, can make their choice between us.” “We are placed in a very embarrassing position,” said one of the other commis- sioners, looking appealingly at Bannerton. “Gentlemen,” said Bannerton, “were it not for the really serious charges that President Himmell has made, there would be little difficulty; vou should have my resignation this instani “Well,” exclaimed Mr. Himmell, wag- ging his head, “I take that all back. Mr. Bidwell did not tell me you solicited a bribe from him. I spoke in the heat of passion. I owe you an npolo%y ‘which I now make to you, like the honorable gertleman I am.” Bannerton hesitated, and looked at the other two men. Again the one who had spoken before said, in a feeble tone: “You place us in a very embarrassing position, Mr. Bannerton.” Bannerton seized a pen and wrote: “With the best of feeling, of my own swill and accord, to be free and independ- ent, and for business reasons, I hereby tender my resignation, to take effect at once. He passed it across the table to Him- mell. ‘“Will that be satisfactory, and will it be spread on the minutes?” he asked, “and shall T have a certified copy, signed, now, by the commissioners?” “Yes, this will be satisfactory,” said the president, after reading it over twice. “And I will say, Mr. Bannerton, that you have done the handsome thing, like a gentleman. You have acted as I should under the circumstances. ‘' And, further- more, I will say that you yourself know that some things have to be done—well, because there are other things that have to be done. Personally, Mr. Bannerton, I have the kindest of feelings toward you.” “It is hardly necessary to kick me quite so hard. Mr. Woodman,”" said Bannerton, aadressing one of the other commission- ers and laughing. *“Mr. Himmell's foot is just beyond mine—a little further to the left.” 3 The other commissioner made haste to copy the resignation, and each then signed his name to the copy. after which it was formally presented to the retiring” secretary. 3 *‘Gentlemen,” said Bannerton, rising, “I thank you. The tribute from President Himmell, that you have just heard him deliver, overcomes me. Abashed as I am by his encomiums, I must ask that you excuse me from acting further at this meeting. Seriously, and I would not be otherwise did not the proceedings par- take so much of the nature of comic opera, I wish to express to two of the commissioners my sincere regret at t- ing. Our relations have been of the pleas- antest, and I have found them public- spirited gentlemen, working for the best interests of the city. As for you, Mr. Himmell,” he continued, turning to the red-faced president, “I would not put up with your honsensical assumption and boorish vagaries any longer for $60 a min- ute. I bid you good day.” “Boo-0-0-rish!” sputtered Himmell, “I ““The Watchman THE SUNDAY CAIL will have y one of —-" Eut Bannerton heard no more, as he closed the door behind him, and passed out into the corrider of the City Hall. ‘‘Bidwell’s first blow,” he said to him- self. “Well, it has struck off the most galling of all shackles—a small political office. T have the copy of my resignation, straight and clear enough, and he can make the most of it. I am a free man.” With a light heart and a buoyant step he went direct to Mrs. Warrington. ““You were right, Hugh,” she sald, when he had told her of the unique proceed- ings; “‘there was nothing else Lo do. They would have forced you out some way, even if you had fought back. But we wiil have a reckoning with Henry Bidwell be- fore we are through, and,” she added, smiling, “I may not have sald that in a Ckristian spirit, but it will be to the ends of justice and for the right.” - Buddenly there came to him a realiza- tion that he was a poor man and out of employment. True, he was a newspaper man by profession, and a writer, but this is no guarantee of bein%able to earn more than a bare living. What right had he to aspire to the hand of Edith, to ask her to share his lot, perhaps to sacrifice hez little fortune? Or, worse still, to be compelled to fall back on her money should a way, be found to compel Bidweil to 1ender her a just accounting. The pla.e he held was unaer civil service, and ne had regarded it as a permanent position. He turned to his good friend and told her all that now rose to perplex and embar- rass him. She heard him through and then said: “‘Hugh, it is too late now to think of some of these things. The man who wins the love of a woman has incurred an obii- gation second only to that of a husband. Love is not a cloak to be thrown on and off at will. If the girl loves you, as I be- lieve she does, she wouid come to you were you ‘alone and penniless, which is by no ‘means the case. You are not pen- niless and you have some good friends.’ H“l have one, God bless you!" cried ug| ‘“Yes,” she sald, “and it has always been to me a pleasure to help you help yourself. You have helped yourselt, ugh, for, excepting for a word or two in your behalf, you have made your own ~ You have a profession—not one in there is hope of much money re- ward, but one that makes a man inde- pendent if he be skilled in it. The Watch- man will surely give you employment. Would you work as a reporter?”’ “Why, yes; why not if 1 cannot do bet- ter?” answered Hugh. “Would it not be the best thing for me to take such a po- sition, now this fifht is on, and trust to something better later?” “I would like nothing better,” replied Mrs. Warrington, “and for reasons that 1 do not wish to disclose just at present. Go to Shuttle, Hugh, and ‘ask for employ- ment. Sink your pride and accept any position that he may offer. It is all for the best, I am sure.” ““Yes,” said Hugh, “it must all be for I will go to him at once. Be- sides, 1 wish to see him concerning my resignation. A great deal depends on the way such a matter is handled on the first publication.” As Bannerton rode up in one elevator in The Watchman building he saw Himmell pass him, going down in the other. Shuttle greeted him with a decided air of coolness. ‘1 suppose you have come to see about your resignation,” he said, before Ban- nerton could spcak, “Not entirely,” answered Bannerton. ‘I came mainly to apply for a position, Mr. Shuttle. You are short a man. I will go to work as a reporter.” ‘“We are not hlflng any high-priced men,” said Shuttle, abruptly. “You may name the Hugh. X “What did you resign for? What did you resign for? Men are not giving up fat jobs nowadays to work on news- papers. I hear some queer stories about tl;n; way In which you have conducted the et u understand, sir, that I am salary,” sald “I saw Mr. Himmell going down on the elevator,” sald Hugh, quietly. “I pre- sume he has talked to you.” ‘“‘Yes," asserted the editor, “and he™ makes some rather damaging statements. He says you resigned under charges. ‘What do you say to that? What do ycu say to that? He is one of our leading citizens,” ““Yes,” returned Hugh, keeping his tem- per. for like all men who knew the wire- edged editor. he made liberal allowances; ‘he is one of the leading citizens who are helping Henry Bidwell to pass his ordi- nance, by which he will tie this city up for half a century and bring milllons of Gollars to himself and his associates.” ‘“That has nothing to do with the case,” cried the editor, suddenly flaring ubp. is attending to that matter, as you probably have observed, if you read the papers. Do you read the pa- pers? What? What? But you have not exgllnmed what Mr. Himmell has told me —that you resigned rather than face charges that were made against you. He says you were charged with goliciting a bribe from Henry Bidwell. idwell tried to bribe me, and I turned hith down. Yes, ¢ir, turned him down. That is the kind of man I am. But how about the charges of Himmell? You haven't answered. What? What?” Shuttle had rattled this off so fast that there had been no opportunity for Ban- nerton to get in 'a word. When he finished with his habitual interrogatory, which seldom meant a question, Bannerton said, very slowly and quietly: : “All 1 have to say is that Mr. Himmell is an unmitigated liar. Here is my res- ignation, duly ‘attested by the commis- sioners, including Mr. Himmell.” He laid the papers before the jerky editor, “That amounts to nothing,” cried Shut- tle, tossing it aside. “Mr. Himmell has explained that. It was his kindiy way of letting you down easy. It amounts to nothing. I am afraid I shall have to print the whole story. I do not believe in suppressing news simply be- cause a newspaper man Is invoived. We are running a newspaper.” For a moment Bannerton sat dum- founded. . ““Amounts to nothing!” he exclaimed, renchini out and taking this paper from the desk. “This written document and my word amount to nothing!” “You have not explained anything,” snapped the editor. “‘Mr. Shuttle,”” sald Hugh, folding the paper and replacing it in_ his pocket, “I have nothing to explain. I resigned from the secretaryship of the commission of my own free will and for reasons of my own. I have taken more from you than I would have from any man living—but that is your faculty. All I ask is fair treatment, and I should receive it from you: ““Who says I am not fair?” indignantly challerged the editor. “The facts are as they appear on the minutes of the commission,” continued Hugh. “The publication of anything eise will be an injustice to me. I leave the matter in your hands, trusting to your fairness.” “Very well,” said Shuttle, “I will write the article myself.” “Look here, Shuttle,” said Hugl whom this meant no smail danger, “we have been friends for some time. Let this take its regular course through the city hall run. [ do not wish any adver- tising, and it is certainly not much in a news sense.’” “Do you think I can’'t write it?” de- manded Shuttle. ‘“Very well, sir; I shail see that the city hall man works up the story the same as if it were not a news- paper man {nvolved. I intended to do you avor.” “Very well, we will say no more about the matter,”” saild Hugh, “and I ask for no special favor. Treat me the same as you wbuld any other man: but I warn you that Himmell is a fool, inspired by no less a man than Henry Bidwell. BEx- cuse me, but I wish to say just one word more about the other matter. Can I get work on this paper?”’ ' be replied Shuttle, to 0 frank about it,” “I do not think you can at present. We have more men than we know what to do with. No, Bannerton, there is no piace epen for you.” ““Good day,” said Bannerton, bowing. “I bid you good day.” . He went down in the elevator, feeling weak and small. Refused the position of a reporter, when he was m:'lg to enlisi more for patriotism than for the pay. It ‘was humiliating; and it was a commen- tary on the uncertainties of a trade that he ¥nd thnufiht a profession. As for the way in t!rhk: h:he Nep"ltwol‘:{(tll h.&dlu !l:ls resignation, gaye: it e thought. What could there be, with his denial of Himmell's absurd charges, and the evi- dence of the r tion on the minutes? On the street he met John Hannum. “Come with me,” sald the lawyer. “I wish to talk with you on a matter of business It is supper time; we had better go to a restaurant, whete we can both talk and eat.”” “No,” protested Hugh, ’;‘llgt us walk., I the lawyer, “let Deftly and artfully, Hannum led up to vt beginping with (ne status of th? street I(;l{ : p:o co'rm)r:floh'l m‘l: €N racy, an mise of success. Was & trick of his to take both Sides of want to be out in the question at once, and present the argu- ments so_blended as to leave the im- glmlon he desired in the mind of his istenef. He now summoned all the so- phistry at his command to provs tu the young man that, while there were many very gcod reasons why the ordinance should not pass, there was yet lacking any moral wrong, considering the compe- titive system which governed ths worid of business and the affairs of men. “But, John,” said Hugh, at last, “you have said yourself. time and again, that it_was a great wrong.” = “Not a great moral wrong, but, per- haps, a business wrong.') returned the lawyer. “If the city makes a bad bargain it is a certain kind of wrorg, perhaps, but one cannot interfere and right matters €very time some one gets the best of u bargain, Now, it is much the same in this matter. What adfair is it of yours more than the other people of this city? Why should you step out of your way to clash with Bidwell and Sprogel, who ave done you no injury? Why should you set up your opinion against that of some of the leading men of the city, who certainly have large interests at stake? It is merely a matter of opinion whether or not this ordinance is a goud or a bad thing for (ne city. ‘Because a man may happen 1o zgrec with Henvy Bidweil, it is no _proof that he i¢ corrupt.” ‘“We can never agree on this subject,” said Hugh. “‘We have talked about it u good many times, and, whiic you beat me in the argument, you cannot shake my convictiors. I know, and veu know, the conditions «xisting here rigat now. It is a great and gigantic steal, and you know it, John; ore by wnich the people are to be irickel out of cheir rights: be- trayed by ‘he men elecied to serve the people; and aided and abeiied Ly men who know better, but who are too cow- ardly to spcak out in protest, or who are too dense to understand, But you do understand, and, as Laurie puts it, you are becoming more lawyer than man. L thought at one time, from the way you talked, there was a possibility that you would be one of the men to come out and flghtland help save this great right of the people.” My dear Hugh,” said Hannum smiling, “that was_when there seemed to be a chance to heat it. It was after the peo- ple had risen in protest and driven the “ouncil to turn down a much less sweep- ing ordinance than this one. The public sentiment has changed, I tell you. This l?t}"dlmmce will pass and be signed by the ayor.” *“'If it does, it will be for the reason that such men as you prove recreant to their duty,” cried Hugh hotly. “But, if this is the business you have with me, there is no use in further discussing it. I believe it is a great crime; one by which the many are to be robbed for the benefit of 2 mere handful, and I will never cease to oppose the consummation of it with all the power that God has given me, which, admit, is not much.” A look of admiration came into the law- yer's face as gle met his friend’'s glance and noted the dilated nostrils and the flashin, €s. ““Hugh,’” he said, after a moment of re- flection, “I am your friend, and I spoke as such when I advised you not to be- come embroiled in this controversy, which concerns others much more than it does you. But it is on a matter of plain busi- ness that I speak now. You have before Yyou an opportunity to make yourseif in- dependent in a monetary way, and be clean and honorable, too. My advice is to sell a certain block of Watchman stock for the price that vou have been offered.” You! too, John!" exclaimed Hugh in which amazement and deep reproach were mingled. “To think that you would engage yourself to come to me on such a mission in the 5‘6‘1‘:5 of a friend. I thought you above it, n Hannum “And why?" plied the lawyer, redden- ing a little, Why should I not un- dertake to advise you to & client’s advan- tage and your own? For I am sincere when I advise you to sell this stock, or to help Bidwell secure it. W cried Hugh; “because I am bound by all that should guide an honor- able man; by my word of honor, not to do anything you have proposed. Do you ask me to break my word?"” “No,”” roared Hannum, stopping abrupt- lv and extending his hand, his whole man- ner changing. “‘Shake hands with the man, Hugh, and damn the lawyer. I have been in a good many tight places where I was tempted, but 1 have never yet broken such a promise.” “L belleve you, John, I believe you,” said Hugh. ‘“‘But did they know that you were thus bound?”’ asked Hannum, suddenly. “I told Bidwell so, plainly and flatly,” replied Hugh. ‘“‘As’for the temptation, he ered what is dearer to me than all the world.” The lawyer gave a little start, and shot a meaning glance from the corner of his eves, which his companion did not no- tice. He coughed several times. “fi“‘d you refused?” he observed, cas- ually, 1 refused,” said Hugh, simply. For some time they Walke\f on in si- lence. Hannum was the first to speak. “They had no right to engage me in the matter,” he said. *“I asked particu- larly if there was any reason in the world Why you should not sell, or at least help them get the stock. They told me there was none.” “Nor was there, their code,” said Hugh. “It was a deceit which I resent,” con- tinued the lawyer. . “You have done the only thing that an honorable man could do, and I do not ad- vise you to do_ anything else; but that has nothing to do with what I said in the beginning. You are making a mistake to take a part in this fight. You are making powerful enemies. It is all very well to -have weak enemies, for they give you a standing, but powerful ones are likely to drag a man down in the long run.” “I am not so sure of that,” sald the young man. “A guilty conscience makes a man hesitate to strike even a weak enemy.” “They will force you out of your posi- tion,” said Hannum. “I resigned to-day,” said Hugh, quietly. exclaimed Hannum. “Tell “So_soon! me about it.” ‘When Bannerton had finished his story of the events of the day Hannum shook his head and said: “They have attacked you, and you have a right to fight back. I 'still “question whether you will profit by the course, but you have the right that just resentment gives a man. It has no standing in the law, but the consent of man makes it a higher law.” he was silent for some time, and then he said: “There is no use of further talk. Your mind is fixed, and you must follow the course you have marked out for yourself. But I tell you there is little hope to pre- vent the passage of this ordinance now. A bunch of the Aldermen have been bought up, so I am told, others are influ- enced by favors extended and promised in the line of business patronage, and a few others are weak and will be made to be- lieve the public is in favor of it.” “The public in favor of such a bare- faced robbery of itself!” exclaimed Hugh. ““‘Wait, and see if I am not right,” con- tinued the lawyer. ‘“Walt, and see the men that will go before that committee to place themselves on record in favor of the measure that you and I know is just what you call it—a gigantic plece of rob- bery. I tell you, Hugh, the people of this city are up against a force that no man can withstand—the force of unlimited cap- according to ital, and what comes ready to hand, novadays, at its call. I do not place any reliance in The Watchman. This' man Shuttle fights for the people and appeals to the public, but he does not kn‘ovg men or human nature. Already there is a prefudice built up against the paper that is feit even when it has the popular side. Besides, he will weaken when the criti- cal test comes, He is like one of those horses that can show you a mile In ten flat almost any time, but can never win a race in faster than twenty. No: look at it now. The paper is howling away about fraud and corruption, but it sub- mits no evidence. It shrieks that the or- dinance is robbery. and then prints si; columns of figures to prove it. You can’l prave highway robbery by an expert ac- countant, nor rouse men to action with statistics. “No,” said Hugh, “the only wi to fight the devil is to fight him with fire.” ““Yes,” saild Hannum, “but one man is always reeded who is not afraid to handle something hot.” g “John!” exclaimed Bannerton, halting and wheeling round, ‘‘that man stands before you. I have a inspiration. When the time comes I will rouse this city so that no man ishall dare to vote for ‘that ordinance In the Common Council.” Htu‘nmxm laughed. Then he stopped ab- ruptly. ‘PI don’t know but that you may,” he sald. ““They are cowards, most of them. I know that from experience.” < ““A bad cause makes cowards of most men,” ans Hugh. “So the ‘Rollo tBooks” ; Tved Hannum. “I have not found it so al- ways. But you have walked my legs al- most off, and it is time for me to eat. ‘Will you join me?” mething in his look and the tone with ‘which the invitation was extended made Bannerton decline, with thanks. They shook hands r?nd parted. As he hurrfed away, Bannerton’s mind was busy trying to grapple with the many perplexities tha set him, but Hannum, walking slowly, and with his head down, murmured just one sentence: “So Bidwell offered him what was dearer to him than wealth and power, and he refused.” He suddenly threw his head quared his shoulders, and quick- ened his pace. He walked with the jaunty step of a very young man. CHAPTER XXI. LIES, LIES, LIES! The machinery Henry Bidwell had set in metion was not built-in a day. It was founded on the credulity of the un- informed intelligent men of the city, on the intense gratitude of those expecting political or business ‘favor, and upon the potent force of direct corruption in the lower strata of public life. The men of these three regiments, or armies, did not, could not, know or un- derstand each other. Apparently they had nothing in common, yet Henry Bid- well now moved them in unison to ac- complish his purpese to the ultimate det- riment of ail. Members of the political party of which Bidwell was a leader, the common purpose in political campaigns had led the uninformed intelligent to be- " lieve there was a common cause in every- thing Bidwell espoused. They falled to discriminate between his public and his private aims; they blindly supported him v;kh a dim sense of fealty on all occa- sions. With a complete mastery of the politi- cal circies—the upper crust, the scum and the dregs—Bidwell had this time set out to transform - the uninformed into the misinformed. To accomplish this he had the power of two papers, the silence of one and the vacillating policy of the other. Behind the papers he had the force of his clac- quers, of varying degrees of intelligence and standing in the community. These forces had for some time been at work In_favor of the ordinance. No; there were some who belonged to none of these classes. There were a Yew among the uninformed intelligent who, despite Bidwell's efforts, became the in- formed intelligent. To a man they were ofiposed to the ordinance. The trick of the interviews secured by Bldwell's agents had tied up many of these men; many had been misquoted by the deft.art of omission, and each thought himself the only unfortunate and hesitated to faca the publicity of demanding a retrac- tion of what seemed to be the prevailing view of the business world. Even Samuel Elliotscn _had been one of the number. But Bidwell now moved a step further, From wishing only ‘the acquiescence of these men, he now demanded that they come out openly in his support. It was to accomplish this that he first took In Ledlow, the banker, and now called upon him, aided by Sprogel, to bring these men into line. Coercion, soft and velvety. it is true, took the place of pleadings and promises. The result was the appearance of men who carried weight with the mass advocating the passage of the ordinance. Squirm and wriggle as they might, the lean and gaunt banker was firm, and the pressure often reached out until it men- aced their very existence in the business world. Some—a few—were outside the influence of this triumvirate of high-grade vice and stood aloof. They would have even fought the passage of the ordinance, but they had no leader; there was nothing on which to base concerted action. Yea: there was the Municipal League, an or- ganization headed by a man who would have tried to saw real wood with a the- oretical hand-saw. Professor Amos Quib- ler, the president of the Municipal League, and member of the Ethical Cul- ture Society, was calling on all good men to rise up in revolt. He bent his energles to writing two-column communications to The Watchman, showing what had been done in Edinburgh by municipal ownership. He stood for no compromise; demanded that the city buy the street rafllway system and operate it. and was quite as far wrong one way as was Bid- well the other. To men who came to him with suggestions that might have re- sulted in the organization of the dissent- ing forces he turned a deaf ear. He was shocked and offended because these sug- gestions all savored of practical politics— something vulgar and unutterably gross. He was the bete noire of Shuttle, who saw in him—but did not recognize them as such—all his own faults, enlarged and magnified. What was there, then, to prevent Henry Bidwell from carrying out his plans, with such an organization behind him and naught by a single paper and a handful of men to confront him? There was some- thing—the great dormant mass of plain men, the public. The public! It was a term that brought a smile to the face of Bidwell when he heard it used in a com- monly accepted sense: but he was afraid of the public in his heart. For the public wad made up largely of men who worked with hands as well as head and earned their weekly wage. ‘What did they care for Sprogel, or Led- low, or even Bidwell? What terrors had Sprogel's frown? What if Ledlow could refuse them a loan from his bank? What it Bidwell did name the men who were to fatten at the public crib? It was all nothing to them. They paid taxes, they paid carfares that swelled the dividends of the company and, above all, they had time to read and know a thing or two far in advance of the men who had no time for anything but to make money. To keep this mass from being roused was Bidwell's sole aim. This was the reason why he so longed for The Watchman; but, as that was out of his ' reach, he did the next best thing, and discredited it in his other pa- pers, while he threw the dust of misin- formation into the eyes of the publie. And yet, there was always a danger that this mass might be roused—one man of courage, with the logic of fact back of him, could do it. It was ail that Bidwell really had had to fear from the very first, and he planned to prevent this by offering misleading stalements in every direction through many channels. His revenge on Bannerton had been sufficient to satisfy him for the time be- ing; for the articie that Shuttle publish- was seasoned just enough with the poison of subtle omission to afford him the opportunity to bring it before Edith, and to make it the excuse for a talk he had been avoiding. He had contrived to keep from meeting her after the night when he had found them together, and when he had made his effort to secure the stock from the young man. Edith was accustomed to his vagaries in the matter of working hours, and his uncertainty at meals, so she thought nothing of his absence, although she longed for a word from him concerning the 1esult of the interview. That he, her uncle, who had always been so kind to her, would refuse to consent, when once she should tell him she loved Hugh, seem- to her the height of improbability. That he would Inta:sue any strong ob- Jection when she should put her foot down and declare for Hugh, for she was resolv- ed to make such a stand, was out of the question. So she lived for a few days in a dream of love all her own, much alone in her room, where she was.busy, “r{ busy, thinki: as only a girl can thini when the nce has come and stands waiting to take her away. The storm burst upon her suddenly out of this fair sky. It came after breakfast, when Bid- well, laying The Watchman out before her, said: “Edith, there is something here I wish you to read, and when you have finfshed I should like to be heard before you say ll;{thlng.. e was very soft and suave, and he spoke in a kindly, parental tone. - She read the article over, once, twice, and “hen again, before she looked up. "Hugh has resigned, and—and—there is something else,” she sald hesitatingly. “Oh, I know he canfiot have done any- thing wrong, uncle.” m‘; ly del:.'r;.l lnlBIdwell. I‘l‘l“ ll. some- oS mos nful to speak ill of a per- d-cm. and yet when it is a duty it must be one.” “Why, what do you mean?” she turning_pale. H Bannerton until it is proved to a little color coming n,” commanded Bidwell. ' “He has deceived me as well as you, and I thought myself a judge of human nature. ¥uu‘ know‘ wl}:t ‘o?-“ done for him. advan my confidence, h:l‘ gtum oece n of certain securi- intimidate me into giving approval to his suit for your hand, and when I, for good and sufficlent reasons, which I shall now make known, refused, he made threats to ruin me by defeating the passage of the crdinance that I have so carefully drawn, and on which depends not alone my fortune, but the mo: entrusted to care by your father. ‘He has led a wild and profligate life.”" e e el % ears com- g‘:t?o her e “He has been with me so much, and I know him so well.” ked, “‘I will never belleve {ll of* D “It 1s indeed astounding,” continued Bidwell, speaking in a sad tone, “and it seem almost incredible. Why, my Poor giri, his reiations witn & stenog~ rapker named Uolly Levine have béen of such an vpen and seandalous nature that it is common talk at the city hall. is a scounurei, Edith, and it wus 0wy out of consideration for you and Mrs. Warrington that | prevalied on August Himmeil to allow mm to resign. L fol~ lowed this by interposing with Mr. Shut- tle, the editor of The Watchman, who , I see, couched the account ui his re- sigration in the most considerate lan- gu imstances.” “Uncie Henry.” sald Eaith, when he paused, her head thrown back. and a preua look in her eyes, “I do not believe a word you have just told me. Hugh Ban- nerton is a clean man. He may have croséed you in a business matter. Of that 1 know nothing. But this story of an- other woman I cannot, I will not, believe. Hugh Barnertop, Uncle Bidweil, whatever else he may be, Is an honorable gentie- man, for as such only could he have Mrs. Warrington as his friend.” A scuwl passed over Pldwell's face at mention of the name. “Foolish giri,” he said, "you force me to go further than I intended. You ask me for proof. I am a methodical and careful man. Here it 1s.” He drew forth a leaf of paper and held it out to her. “It is one of the notes he has been writ- Ing to the girl, and I took care to get her brazen confession before I would accept It as genuine. It is. perhaps, painful for you to read, but you have forced the issue. You know his signature ' Edith seized the note, gave it one sweep- ing glance, and-then everything swam be- fore her eyes. She uttered a little cry— the cry that small animals give when wounded—and would have fallen had not her uncie caught her In his arms. “All's fair in love and war,” he said, with his pleasant little laugh, as he car- r|e4di her to a sofa, “and this is both love and war.” When_she had recoveded he sat beside her, and, with all the kindness of a loving parent, blended with his wicked talent for deceit, he toid the girl of what Mrs. War- rington had done to requite his kindness: how she had urged Bannerton to oppose him, and had protected him in his base passion for the dissolute woman of the city hall. He told her of his solicitude for her welfare: how he had made a prom- ise to her dyin, father to watch over her and shield her from harm, he recalled to her a promise she had then made to obey his wishes. His strength and cun- ning plausibility was too much for her to withstand. and she. vowed never to look on the face of Hugh Bannerton again. But she rejected a hint that she take trip East in company with a sister of Banker Ledlow. “No, uncle,” she said, decisively, “T will stay here as long as you give me a home. No one shall know.” No: no one shall now. Calling her a brave little woman, Bid- well kissed her on the forehead, and went cheerfully downtown, two hours late, but well pleased with the ‘part he had played, leaving her to her mise: ‘1 have broken that up,” he sald to him- gelf, “and, after all, it is for her welfare. Sprogel will make her a good husband.” To him a marriage was merely like forming a trust. Bannerton raged when he read the arti- cle in The Watchman which_ chronicled the fact that he had given up his place In the city hall, His first impulse was to face Shuttle and tell him what he thought of him. But, like most people who be- cameé angered at Shuttle, he was over- come on more mature thought by a feeling of pity. After all, perhaps Shuttle did not mean anything wrong. It was so maladroit as to be, possibly, a result of his honest ef- forts to be fair. Mrs. Warrington laughed at the article and reminded Hugh how many times he had done the same thing himself. “It is one of those articles that cannot be denled, for it really cha: nothing.” she said. " “If you try to explain, you will make yourself ridiculous. ever offer an explanation based on what some people may think.” But over Shuttle's refusal to employ Hugh on the paper Mrs. Warrington was not at all backward about uxpm-lng an opinion. She thought it very foolish, in the first place, not to take a man like Hugh at this particular time, and she re- sented the estimate that Shuttle on talents that she, perhaps, rated higher than any other person. She brought up the ordinance and when they had discussed the situation for some time she suddenly said: “Hugh, 1 want some one whom I can trust to look after my affairs, and, inci- dentally, 1 shall need some one to help me in what I wish to do to help defeat this measure. Would you work for me? ‘Would you be my private secretary?” “I would work for you until my hands were worn té the bone, if necessary,” cried Hugh. “But this comes from the goodness of your heart. You wish an excuse to help me. I have some money, and T really shall need nothing for some little time. Let me volunteer to help you, if I can, to enlist under your banner as proof of my lovalty to a good cause, and not for pay. “Very well,” she said, simply. “Con- sider yourself enlisted. The best work in a matter of this kind is done by those ‘who have apparently nothing to do. miz noexplanations nd the statemen that you were tired of the city hall lfe; mix with men, speak frankly what you feel concerning this great question that is now before the public, and gather what informafon you can. Be guided by your own judgment. hold up your and ally yourself with the honest men of this community. It will pay in the long run. All T ask is that you shall see me at least once a day.” “I am in the battle at last,” cried Hugh, catching up his hat,” and I would never have been satisfled if I had held back. It is a fine thing to capture a city, but how much finer it would be to save one.” He saluted, about faced and left the -oom. The first man he called to see was Amos Quibler, the busy president of the Municipal League. Th T fore he found him, form_ with Jonathan itor of The Spinning Wheel. have convinced Fluttery that the or- dinance should not be passed,” sald Quib- ler, triumphantly, to Bannerton when théy were together. " hl‘“ he say so in his paper?” asked ugl " “Oh, no: but he has promised to a communication from me on the. sul Do you think he would do that if he were not convinced that the ordinance is a bad ing m luttery, o one?” Bannerton exacted promise from Quibler nct to write any iunications for several s felt grieved, but prom! men that there was in t hearts of men of lmglrn&: decided antipathy to o “It is an outrage and a ‘was the consensus of m"“;u the st “Then W