The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 16, 1902, Page 5

'THE SUNDAY CALL e ——————— e ———— e ———— PP e already some practical knowledge of pol- itics, having served a term as Assistant District Attorney, and even at the pres- ent moment occupying the position of Sheriff’s attorney. idnrq than all, he was the son of Magnus Derrick; he could be relled upon, could be trusted implicitly 1o remain loyal to the ranchers’ cause. The campaign for Rallroad Commission- er had been very interesting. At the very outset Magnus' committee found itself in. volved in corrupt politics. The primaries had to be captured at all costs and by eny means, and when the convention as- sembled it was found necessary to buy outright the votes of certain delegate: The campaign fund raised by contribu- tions from Magnus, Annixter, Broderson and Osterman was drawn upon to the ex- tent of five thousand dollars. Only the committee knew of this cor- ruption. The seague, ignoring ways and means, supposed as a matter of course that the campaign was honorably con- ducted. For a whole week after the consumma- tion of this part of the deal Magnus had kept to his house, refusing to be seen, alleging that he was ill, which was not far from the truth. The shame of the business, the loathing of what he had done, were to him things unspeakable. He could no longer look Harran in the face. He began a course of deception with his wife. More than once he had resolved to break with the whole affair, resigning his position, allowing the others to proceed hout him. But now it was too late. He was pledged. He had joined the league. He was its chief, and his defection might mean its disintegration at the ry time when it needed all its strength to fght the land cases. More than & mere deal in bad politics was in- volved. There was the land grab. His withdrawal from an unholy cause would mean the weakening, perhaps the col- lapse, of another cause that he believed to be righteous as truth itself. He was hopelessly caught in the mesh. Wrong seemed indissolubly knitted into the tex- ture of right. He was blinded, dizzied, overwhelmed, caught in the current of events and hurried along he knew not where. He resigned himself, In the end, and after much ostentatious opposition on the part of the railroad heelers, Lyman was nominated and sub- sequently elected. When this consummation was reached Magnus, Osterman, Broderson and Annix- ter stared at each other. Their wildest hopes had not dared to fix themselves upon S0 easy a victory as this. It was not believable that the corporation would ellow itself to be fooled so easily, would yush open-eyed into the trap. How had it happened? Osterman, however, threw his hat into the air with wild whoops of delight. Old Broderson permitted himself a feeble cheer. Even Magnus beamed satisfaction. The other members of the league, pres- ent at the time, shook hands all around end spoke of opening a few bottles on the strength of the occasion. Annixter slone was recalcitrant. “It's too easy he declared. “No, I'm not satisfied. Where's Shelgrim in all this? Why don't he show his hand, damn his soul? The thing is yellow, I tell you. There's a big fish in these waters some- wheres. I don’t know his name, and I don't know his game, but he's moving eround off and on, just out of sight. If you think you've netted him, I don't; that's all I've got to say.” But he was jeered down as a croaker. There was the commission. He couldn’t t around that, could he? There was arrell and Lyman Derrick, both pledged to the ranchers. Good Lord, he was never satisfied. He'd be obstinate till the very last gun was fired. Why, if he got drowned in a river he’d float up-stream Just to be contrary. In the course of time the mew board was seated. For the first few months of its term it was occupled in clearing up the business left over by-the old board &nd in the completion of the rallway map. But now the decks were cleared. was sbout to address itself to the considera- tion of a revi of the tarift for the jage of grain between the San Joa- Valley and tidewater. Both Lyman and Darrell were- pledged to an average 10 per cent cut of the grain rates throughout the entire State. ewriter returned with the letters 3 to sign, and he put away the map and took up his morning’s routine of business, wondering the while what would become of his practice during the time he was involved in the business of the Ranchers’ Railroad Commission. But toward noon, at the moment when Lyman was drawing off a glass of min- eral water from the siphon that stood at bis elbow, there was an interruption. Bome one rapped vigorously upon the door, which was immediately after open- ed, and Magnus and Harran came in, fol- lowed by Presley. *Hello, hello!” cried Lyman, up, extending his hands, y. surprise. 1 didn't expect you all till to- night. Come in, come in and sit down. Have a glass of sizz-water, governor.” The others explained that they had come up from Bonneville the night before, as the executive committee of the league had recelved a dispatch from the lawyers it had retained to fight the railroad that the Judge of the court in San Francisco where the test cases were being tried, might be expected to hand down his de- sion the next day. Very soon after the announcement of the new grading of the ranchers’ lands the corporation had offered, through S. Behrman, to lease the gisputed lands to the ranchers at a nominal figure. The r had been angrily rejected, and the railroad had put up the lands for sale at Ruggles' office in Bonneville. At the ex- orbitant price named buyers promptly ap- peared—dummy buyers, beyond shadow of doubt. acting either for the railroad or for S. Behrman—men hitherto unknown in the county, men without property, without _money, adventurers, heelers. Prominefit among them, and bidding for the railroad’s holdings included on An- nixter's ranch, was Delaney. The farce of deeding the corporation’s sections to these fictitious purchasers was solemnly gone through with at Ruggles’ office, the railroad guaranteeing them pos- session. The league refused to allow the supposed buyers to come upon the land, and the raiiroad, faithful to its pledge in the matter of guaranteeing its dum- mies possession, at once began suits in ejectment in the District Court in Visalia, the county seat. It was the preliminary skirmish, the re- connaissance in force, the combatants feeling each other’s strength, willing to proceed with caution, postponing the ac- tual deathgrip for a while till each had strengthened its position and organized its forces. During the time the cases were on trial et Visalia §. Behrman was much in evi- dence in and about the courts. The trial itself, after tedious preliminaries, was brief. The ranchers lost. The test cases were immediately carried to the United States Circuit Court in San Francisco. At the moment the decision of this court was pending. ““Why, this is news,” exclaimed Lyman, in response to the governor's announce- ment. “I_did not expect them to be so prompt. 1 was in court only last week and there seemed to be no end of busi- ness,ahead. 1 suppose you are Very anx- fous?” Magnus nodded. He had seated himself in one of Lyman's deep chairs, his gray top hat, with its wide brim, on the floor beside him. His coat of black broadcloth that had been Ushuy packed in his valise was yet wrinkled and creased; his trous- ers were strapped under his high boots. As he spoke he stroked the bridge of his bawklike nose with his bent forefinger. Leaning back in his chalr, he watched his two sons with secret delight. To his eye, both were perfect specimens of their ciess, intelligent, well looking, resource- ful. He was intensely proud of them. He was never happier, never more nearly jov- ial, never more erect, more military, mcre alert and buoyant than when in the com- any of his two sons. He honestly be- Ee\'ed that no finer examples of young manhood existed throughout the entire nation. “] think we should win in this court,” Harran observed, watching the bubbles break in his glass. “‘The investigation has been much more complete than ia the Visalia trial. Our case this time is too good. It has made too much talk. The court would not dare render a decision for the railroad. Why, there’s the 2- ment in black and white—and the circu- lars the rallroad fssued. How can cne get_around those? “Well, well, we shall know in a few hours now,” remarked gnus. “Oh,” exclaimed Lyman, surprised, “it is for this morning, then. y aren’t you at the court?” “It seemed undignified, boy,” answered the governor. “We shall kmow soon enough.” “Good God!” exclaimed Harran, abrupt- ly. “when 1 think of what.is involved. Why, Lyman, it's our home, the ranch- house itself, nearly all Los Muertos, prac- tically our whole fortune, d just now when there is pro; of an enormo crop of wheat. And it is not only us. There are over half a million acres of the San Joaguin involved. In some cases of the smaller ranches, it is the confiscation of the whole of the rancher’'s land. If this thing through it will absolutely beggar nearly & hundred men. roder- son wouldn't have & thousand acres to qQu his name. Why, it's monstrous.” “But the corporations offered to lease these lands,” remarked Lyman. “Are any of the ranchers taking up that offer —or are any of them buying outright?” “Buying! At the new figure!” exclaim- ed Harran, “at twenty and thirty an acre! Why, there’s not one in ten that can. They are land-poor. And as for leasing—leasing -land they virtually own —no, there's precious few are doing that. thank God. That would be acknbwledg- ing the railroad's ownership right away —forfeiting their rights for good. Nore of the leaguers are doing it, I know. That would be the rankest treachery. He paused for a moment, drinking the rest of the mineral water, then interrupt- ing Lyman, who was about lo spceak to Presley, drawing him into the :onversa- tion through politeness, said: “‘Matters are just romping right along to a crisis tnese days. It's a make or break for the wheat growers of the State now, no mis- take. Here are the land cases and the new grain tariff drawing to a head st about the same time. If we win our land cases, there's your new freight rates to be applied, and then all is beer and skit- tles. Won't the San Jeaquin go wild if we pull it off, and I believe we will.” “How we wheat growers are exploited and trapped and deceived at every turn,” observed Magnus, sadly. *“The ourts, the capitalists, the railroads, each of them in turn hoodwinks us into some new and wonderful scheme, only to betray us in the end. Well,” he added, turning to Ly- man, “one thing at least we can depend on. We will cut their grain rates for them, eh, Lyman?” Lyman crossed his legs and settled him- sclf in his office chair. “I have wanted to have a talk with you about that, sir,” he said. ‘‘Yes, we will cut the rates—an average of 10 per cent cut throughout the State, as we are pledged. But I am going to warn you, Governor, and you, Harran; don’t expect too much at first. The man who, even after twenty years’ ¥raining in the opera- tion of railroads, can draw an equitable, smoothly working schedule of freight rates between shipping point and common point is capable of governing the United States. What with main lines, and leased lines, and points of transfer, and the laws governing common carriers, and the rul- ings of the Interstate Commerce Commis- sion, the whole matter has become S0 confused that Vanderbilt himself couldn’t straighten it out. And how can it be ex- pected that raliroad coramissions which are chosen—well, let’s be frank—as ours was, for instance, from out a num- ber of men who don’t know the difference between a switching charge and a differ- ential rate, are going to regulate the whole business in six months' time? Cut rates; yes, any fool can do that; any fool can write one dollar instead of two, but if you cut too low by a fraction of one per cent and if the railroad can get out an in- Junction, tie you up and show that your new rate prevents the road being ope- rlall:d at a profit, how are you any better o ““Your consclentiousness does you credit, Lyman,” said the Governor. “‘I respect ¥ou for it, my son. I know you will be air to the railroad. That is all we want. Fairness to the corporation is fairness to the farmer, and we won't expect you to readjust the whole matter out of hand, Take your time. We can afford to walit.” “‘And suppose the next commjssion is a raliroad board and reverses all our fig- ures?” The one-time mining king, the most re- doubtable poker player of Calaveras County, permitted himself a momentary twinkle of his eyes. “By then it will be too late. We will, :}lll of us, have made our fortunes by K s The remark left Presley astonished out of all measure. He never could accustom himself to these strange lapses in the Governor's character. Magnus was by nature a public man, judicious, deliberate, standing firm for principle, yet upon rare occasion, by some such remark as this, he would betray the presence of a sub- nature of recklessness, inconsistent, all at variance with his creeds and tenets. At the very bottom, when all was sald and done, Magnus remained the forty- niner. Deep down in his heart the spirit of the adventurer yet persisted. *“We will all of us have made fortuges by then.” That was it precisely. “After us the deluge:” For all his public spirit, for all his championship of justice and truth, his respect for law, Magnus remained the gambler, willing to play for colossal stakes, to hazard a fortune on the chance of winning a million. It was the true Cal- ifornia spirit that found expression through him, the spirit of the West, un- willing to occupy itself with detalls, re- fusing to wait, to be patient, to achieve by legitimate plodding; the miner’s In- stinct of wealth acquired in a single night prevajled, in spite of all, It was In this frame of mind that Magnus and the mul- titude of other ranchers of whom he was 2 type farmed their ranches. They had no love for their land. They were not at- tached to the soll. They worked their ranches as a quarter of a century before they had worked their mines. To hus- band the resources of their marvelous San Joaquin they considered niggardly, petty, Hebraic. To get all there was out of the land, to squeeze it dry, to ex- haust it, seemed their policy. When, at last, the land worn out, would refuse to yleld, they would Invest their money in something else; by then they would all have made fortunes. They did mot care. “‘After us the deluge.” Lyman, however, was obviously un- easy, willing to change the subject. He rosg to his feet, pulling down his cuffss “By the way,” he observed, “I want you three to lunch with me to-day at my club. It is close by. You can wait there for news of the court’'s decision as well as anywhere eise, and I should like to show iou the place. I have just joined.” At the club, when the four men were seated at a small table in the round win- dow of the main room, Lyman’'s popular- ity with all classes was very apparent. Hardly a man entered that did not call out a salutation to him, some even com- ing over to shake his hand. He seemed to be every man's friend, and to all he seemed equally genlal. His affability, even to those whom he disliked, was un- failing. “‘See that fellow yonder.” he said to Magnus, indicating a certain middle-aged man, flamboyantly dressed, who wore his bhair long, who was afflicted with sore eyes, ara the collar of whose velvet coat was sprinkled with dandruff, “that's Hartrath, the artist, a man absolutely devoild of even the commonest decency. How he got in here Is a mystery to me. Yet, when this Hartrath came across to say “How do you do” to Lyman, Ly- man was as eager in his cordiality as his warmest friend could have expected. “Why the devil are you 8o chummy with him, then?" observed Harran when Hartrath had gone away. Lyman’s explanation was vague. The truth of the matter was, that Magnus’ oldest son was consumed by inordinate ambition. Political preferment was his dream, and to the realization of this dream popularity was an essential. Every man who could vote, blackguard or gen- tleman, was to be conciliated, if possible. He made it his study to become known throughout the entire community—to put influential men under obligations to him- self. He never forgot a name or a face. With everybody he was the halil-fellow- well-met. His ambltion was not trivial. In his disregard for small things he re- sembled his father. Municipal office had no attraction for him. His oal was higher. He had planned his life twenty years ahead. Already Sheriff's attorney, Assistant District Attorney, and Ralil- road Commissioner, he could, if he de- sired, attain_the office of District Attor- ney itself. Just now it was a question with him whether or not it would be politic to fill this office. Would it ad- vance or sidetrack him in_the career he had outlined for himself? Lyman wanted to be something better than District At- torney, better than Mayor, than State Senator, or even than member of: the United States Congress. He wanted to be, in fact. what his father was only in name—to succeed where Magnus had failed. He wanted to be Governor of the State. He had put his teeth together, and, deaf to all other considerations, blind to all other issues, he worked wit the infinite slowness, the unshakabl texalclly of the coral insect to this one end. After luncheon was over Lyman grdered clgars and liquors, :‘,Y“ with l/ha9 three ers returned to the main room of the club. However, their former place in the round window was occupled. A mid- dle-aged man, with iron gray hair and mustache, who wore a frock coat and a white waistcoat, and in some indefinable manner suggested a retired naval afficer, ‘was sitting at their table smoking a long, thin cigar. At sight of him Presley be- came animated. He uttered a mild ex- clamation: “Why, isn't that Mr. Cedarquis.?” ‘Cedarquist?” repeated Lyman Derrick. T know him well. Yes, of course, it i he continued. “Governor, you must kn ow him. He is one of our representative men. You would enjoy talking to him. He vas the head of the big Atlas Iron Works. They have shut down raceptly, you know. Not failed exactly, but f be 2 paying closed them out. though. He's a rich man—a capitalist.” Lyman brought the up u the gen- tleman in question introduced them. “Mr. Magnus Derrick, of course,” ob- served Cedarquist, as he shook the Gov- ernor's hand. “I've known you by re- pute for some time, sir. This is a great pleasure, I assure 'you.’” ~Then, turning to Presley, he added: “Hello, Pres, my boy. ow is the great, the very great poem getting on?"” “It's not getting on at all,” answered Presiey, in some embarrassment, as they all sat down. “In fact, I've about given up the idea. There's so much interest in what you might call ‘living issues’ down at Los Muertos now that I'm getting far- ther and farther from it every day.” “I should say as much,” remarked the mgnuhcturer, turning toward Magnus. “I'm_watching your, fight with Shelgrim, Mr. Derrick with every degree of inter- est He raised his drink of whisky and soda. ‘“‘Here's success to you.” As he replaced his glass, the artist Hart- rath joinea the group uninvited. As a pretext, he engaged Lyman in conversa- tion. Lyman, he belleved, was a man with a “pull” at the City Hall. In connection with a projected million-dollar fair and flower festival, which at that moment was the talk of the city, certain statues were to be erected, and Hartrath bespoke Ly- man’s influence to further the pretensions of a scuiptor friend of his who wished to be art director of the affalr. In the mat- ter of this fair and flower festival Hart- rath was not lacking in enthusiasm. He addressed the others with extravagant gestures, blinking his inflamed eyelids. ‘A million dollars,” he exclaimed. ‘“Hey! think of that. Why, do you know that ‘we have five hundred thousand %flctlcl“y pled{ed already? Talk about public spirit, gentlemen; this is the most public-spirited city on the continent. And the money is not thrown away. We will have East- ern visitors here by the thousands—capi- talists—men with money to invest. The million we spend on our falr will be money in our pockets’ Ah, you should see how the womerr of this city are tak- ing hold of the matter. They are giving all kinds of little entertainments, teas, ‘olde tyme singing skules,’ amateur the- atricals, gingerbread fetes, all for the benefit of the fund, and the business men, too—pouring out their money like water. It is splendid, splendid, to see a commu- nity so patriotic.” The manufacturer, Cedarquist, fixed the artist with“a glance of melancholy - inter- est. “And how much,” he remarked, *“will they contribute—your gingerbread women and public-spirited capitalists, toward_ the blowing up the ruins of the Atlas Iron Works?” “Blowing up? 1 don’t understand,” murmured the artist, surprised. ““When you get your Eastern capitalist out here “with your million-dollar fai continued Cedarquist, ‘‘you don't propose, do you, to let them see a million-dollar iron foundry standing idle because of the indifference of S8an Francisco. business men? They might ask pertinent ques- tions. vour capitalists, and we should have to answer that our business men Pr!ferrcd to invest their money in corner ots and Government bonds, rather than to back up a legitimate industrial enter- prise. We don’'t want fairs. We want active furnaces. We don't want public statues, and fountains, and park exten- sions and gingerbread fetes. We want business enterprise. Isn't it like us? Isn’t it like us?” he exclaimed sadly. “What a melancholy comment! San Francisco! It is not a city—it is a Mid- way Plaisance. California likes to be fooled. Do you suppose Shelgrim _could convert the whole San Joaquin Valley into his back yard otherwise? Indiffer- ence to public affairs—absolute Indiffer- ence, it stamps us all. Our State is the very paradise of fakers. You and your Million-Dollar Fair!” He turned to Hart- rath with a quiet smile. ‘It is just such men as you, Mr. Hartrath, that are the ruin of us. You organize a sham of tinsel and pasteboard, put on a fool's cap and bells, beat a gong at a street corner, and ‘the crowd cheers you and drops nickels into your hat. Your gingerbread fetes; yes, I saw it in full blast the other night on the grounds of one of your women's places on Sutter street. I was on my way home from the last board meeting of the Atlas Company. A gingerbread fete, my God! and the Atlas plant shutting down for want of financial backing. A million dollars spent to attract the Eastern in- vestor, In order to show him an aban- doned rolling mill, wherein the only ac- tivity Is the sale of remnant material and scrap steel.” Lyman, however, interfered. The situa- tion was becoming strained. He tried to conciliate the three men—the artist, the manufacturer and the farmer, the war- ring elements. But Hartrath, unwilling to face the enmity that he felt accumulating against him, took himself away. plc- ture of his—"'A Study of the Contra Costa Foothills”"—was to be raffled in the club rooms for the benefit of the fair. He, himself was in charge of the matter. He disappeared. Cedarquist looked after him with con- templative Interest. Then, turning to Magnus, excused himself for the acridity of his words. “He's no worse than many others, and the people of this State and city are, after all, only a little more addle-headed than other Americans.” It was his favori topic. Sure of the interest of his hearers, he unburdened himself. “If I were to name the one crying evil of American life, Mr. Derrick,” he con- tinued, “it would be the indifference of the better people to public affairs. It is so_in all our great centers. There are other great trusts, God knows, in the United States besides our own dear P. and S. W. Railroad. Every State has its own grievance. If it Is not a railroad trust, it is a sugar trust, or an oil trust, or an industrial trust, that exploits the peo; because the people allow it. The indifference of the people is the opportu- nity of the despot. It {s as true as that the whole Is greater than the part, and the maxim s so old that it Is trite—it is laughable. Tt is neglected and disused for the sake of some new ingenious and com- plicated theory, some wonderful scheme of reorganization, but the fact remains, ne ertheless, simple, fundamental, everlas ing. The People have but to say ‘N and not the strongest tyranny, political, religlous, or financial, that was ever or- ganized, could survive one week."” The others, absorbed, attentive, ap- proved, nodding their heads in silence as the manufacturer finished. ““That’'s one reason, Mr. Derrick,” the other resumed after ‘a moment, “why I have been so glad to meet you. You and your league are trying to say ‘No’ to the trust. 1 hope you will succeed. If your example will rally the people to your cause, you will. Otherwise—" he shook his head. . ‘“‘One stage of the fight is to be passed this very day,” observed Magnus. *“My sons and myself are expecting hourly news from the City Hall, a decision in our case is pending.” ““We_ are both of us fighters, it seems, Mr. Derrick,” said Cedarquist. ‘Each with his particular enemy. We are well met, indeed, the farmer and the manu- facturer, both in the same grist between the two millstones of the lethargy of the public and the aggregation of the trust, the two great evils of modern America. Pres, my boy, therd is your epic poem ready to hand.” 2 But Cedarquist was full of another idea. Rarely did so favorable an oppor- tunity present itself for explaining his theories, his ambitions. Addressing him- self to Magnus, he continued: “Fortunately for myself, the Atlas gompany, was not iy joBiy investment., I have other interests. The bullding of ships—steel sailing ships—has been an ambition of mine—for this purpose, Mr. Derrick, to carry American wheat. For years 1 have studied this question of American wheat and at last I have ar- rived at a theory. Let me explain. At iresent all our California wheat goes to iverpool and from that port fs dis- tributed over the world. But a change is coming. I am sure of it. You voung men,” he turned to Presley, Lymar and Harran, “witl live to sce it. Our century is about done. The great word of this nineteenth century has been production. The great word of the twentleth century will be—listen to me, you youngsters— markets. As a market for our prodgction —or let me take a concrete example—as a market for our wheat, Europe is played out. Population in Europe is not in- creasing fast enough to keep up with the rapidity of our production. In some cases, as in_France, th- population is stationary. We, however, have gone on roducing wheat at a tremendous rate, ghe result is overproduction. We supply more than Europe can eat, xud down go the prices. The remedy is not in the cur- tajling of our wheat areas, but in this, we must have new markets, greater markets. For years we have been send- ing our wheat from East to West, from California to Europe. But the time will come when we must send it from West to East. We must march with the course of empire, not against it. 1 mean, we must Jook to China. Rice in China is losing its nutritive quality. The Asatics, though, must be fed; if not on rice, then on wielt_ ‘Why, Mr. Derrick, if only one- half the population of China ate a half- ounce of fiour per man per day all the wheat areas in California could not feed them. Ah, if I could only hammer that into the brains of every rancher of the San Joaquin, yes, and of every cwner of every bonanza farm in Dakota and Minnesota. Send your wheat to China: bandle it yourselves; do away with the middleman; break up the Chicago wheat pits and_elevator rings and mixing hauses. When in feeding China you have decreased the European shipments, the effect is instantaneous. Prices go Up In Europe without having the least e&eut upon the prices in China. We hold the key, we have the wheat—intinitely more than we ourselves can eat. Asia and Europe must look to America to be fed. ‘What fatuous neglect of opportunity to continue to deluge Europe with our sur- plus food when the East trembles upon the verge of starvation!” The two men, Cedarquist and Magnus, continued the conversaticn a little far- ther. The manufacturer’s jdea was new to the governor. He was g}x;eatly inter- ested. He withdrew from the conyersa- tion. Thoughtful, he leaned back in his place, stroking the bridge of his beak-like nose 'with a crooked forefinger. l‘iednraum turned to Harran and began asking details as to the conditions of the wheat growers of the San Joaquin. Ly- man still maintained an attitude of polite yawning occasionally behind , and Presley was left to the company of his own thoughts. ‘There had been a day when the affai and grievan of the farmers of his ac- quaintance—Magnus, Annixter, Osterman and old Broderson—had filled him only with disgust. His mind full of a great, vague epic poem of the West, he mfléyt himself apart, disdainful of what he chose to consider their petty squabbles. But the scene in Annixter's harness room had thrilled and uplifted him. He was pal- pitating with excitement all thmuah the succeeding months. He abandoned the idea of an eplc poem. In six months he had not written a single verse. Day after day he trembled with excitement as the relations between the trust and league became more and more strained. He saw the matter in its true light, It was typi- cal. It was the world-old war between freedom and tyranny, and at times his hatred of the Taiiroad shook him like a crisp and withered reed, while the lan- guid indifference of the people of the State to the quarrel filled him with a blind ex- asperation. But, as he had once explained to Vana- mee, he must find expression. He felt that he would suffocate otherwise, He had begun to kuE a journal. As the in- clination spurred him, he wrote down his thoughts and ideas in this, sometimes every day, sometimes only three or four times a month. Also he flung aside his books of poems—Milton,. Tennyson, Browning, even Homer—and addressed himself to Mill, Malthus, Young, Poush- kin, Henry George, Schopenhauer. tle at- tacked the subject of social inequalit with unbounded enthusiasm. He devoured, rather than read, and emerged from the affair his mind a confused jumble of con- Aflicting notlons, sick with overeffort, rag- ing against injustice and oppression, and with not one sane suggestion as to rem- ed_‘y or redrees. B 'he butt of his cigarette scorched his fingers and roused him from his_brood- ing. In the act of lighting another, he glanced across the room and was sur- prised to see two very prattily dressed young women in the company of an older gentleman, in a long frock coat, standing before Hartrath’'s painting, examining it, their heads upon one side. Presley uttered a murmur of surprise. He himself was a member cf the club, and the presence of women within Its doors, except on special occasions, was not tolerated. He turned to Lyman Der- rick for an explanation, but, this other had also seen the wom2n and abruptly a1 hat “1 declare, orgotten about it Wh‘{'. this s ladies’ day, of cour: “Why, yes” interposed Cedarquist, glancing at the women ovsr his shoulder, “Didn’t you know? Thay let 'em In twice a year, you remember, and this is a dou- ble occasion. They ars going to raflle Hartrath's picture—for the benefit of the ingerbread fair. Why, you are not up to ate, Lyman. This Is a sacred and relig- fous rite—an important public event." “‘Of course, of course,” murmured Ly- man. He found means to survey Harran and Magnus. Certainly, neither his father nor his krother were dressed for the furc- tion that impended. He had been stupid. Magnus invariably attracted attention, now with his trousers stiapped under his boots, his wrinkled frock coat--Ly- man twisted his cuffs into sight with an impatient. nervous movement cf his wrists, (lanclnf a second time at his brother's pink face, furward curling, yel- low hair and clothes of a country cuf. But there was no help for it. Iie wonderad what were the club regulations in the m:ylter of bringing In visitors on ladies’ ‘Sure” enough, ladies’ day,” he remark- ed; “T am very glad you struck it, gov- ernor. We can sit right where we are. I guess this.is as good a place as any to see the crowd. It's a good chance to see all. the big guns of the city. Do you expect your people here, Mr. Cedarquist?” "My wife may come, and my daugh- said the manufacturer. 7 h,”” murmured Presley, “so much the better. 1 was going to give myself the lea of calling upon your daughters, Mr. Cedarquist, this afternoon.”” ““You can e your carfare, Pres,” sald you will see them here.” 3 Cedarquist; loubt the invitations for the occa- sion had appointed 1 o'clock as the time, for between that hour and 2 the guests arrived in an almost unbroken stream. From their point of vantage In the round window of the main room, Magnus, his two sons and Presley looked on very in- terested. Cedarquist had excused himself, tfllrmlng that he must look out for his women folk. Of every ten-of the arrivals seven, at least, were ladies. They entered the room—this unfamiliar masculine haunt, where thelr husbands, brothers and sons spent so much of their time—with a cer- taln show of hesitancy and little, nervous, oblique glances, moving their heads from side to side like a file of hens’venturing into a strange barn. They came In groups, ushered by a single member of the club, doing the honors with effusive bows. and polite gestures, indicating the various ob- Jects of |ntere!t.eglc(uru. busts and the like that decorated the room. Fresh from his recollections of Bonne- ville, Guadalajara and the dance In An- nixter's barn, Presley was astonished at the beauty of these women and the ele- gance of their toflettes. The crowd thick- ened rapidly. A m@rmur of conversation arose, subdued, gracious, mingled with the soft rustle of silk, grenadines, velvet. The scent of delicate perfumes spread in the air, Violet de Parme, Peau d'Es- pagne. Colors of the most harmonious blends appeared ard disappeared at in-/ tervals in the slowly moving press, touches of lavender-tinted velvets, pale rlolet crepes and cream-colored appliqued aces. There seemed to be no need of intro- ductions. Everybody seemed to be ac- quainted. There was no awkwardness, no restraint. The assembly disengaged an impression of refined pleasure. On every hand innumerable dialogues seemed to g0 forward easily and naturally, without break or interruption, witty, 'engaging, the couple never at a loss for repartee. A third party was gracefully included, then a fourth. Little groups were formed —groups that divided themselves or melt- ed into other groups, or disintegrated again into isolated pairs, or lost them- selves in the background of the mass—all without friction, without embarrassment —the whole affair going forward of itself, decorous, tactful, well bred. At a distance, and not too loud, a string- ed orchestra sent up a pleasing hum. ‘Waiters, with brass buttons on their full dress coats. went from group to group, silent, unobtrusive, serving salads and ices. But the focus of the assembly wa little space before Hartrath's pn);nun'.u}: jwas called **A Study of the Contra Costa !Foothills,” and was set in a frame of nat- ural redwood, the bark still adhering. It was_conspicuously displayed on an easel at the right of the entrance to the main room of the club and was very large. In the foreground and to the left, under the So great has been the de- mand for the first installment of “The Octopus,” published in The Sundny Call last Sunday, November 9, that ecdition Is already’ mearly evhauxted. It you missed this first namber, published last Sunday, apply for The Sunday Call of that date at once or you will be too Iate. “The Octopus” was written by the late Frank Norris. It is Mr. Norris’ strongest novel. » 4 It has justly been consider- ed the nearest approach to the “great American novel” ever written. It portrays life and scenes in California more vividly than any other book extant. It is now running in The Sunday Call. No extra charge! And by this means you read the best novel of the day—FREE! shade of a live oak, stood a couple of red- dish cows, kneedeep in a patch of yellow gOPplel. while in the right-hand corner, to aiance the composition, was placed a_girl in a pink dress and white sunbonnet, in which' the shadows were indicated by broad shades of pale blue paint. The ladies and young girls examined the pro- duction with_little murraurs of admira- tfon, hazarding remembered phrases, searching for the exact balance between generous praise and critical diserimina- tion, expressing their opinions in the mild technicalities of the art booksand paint- ing classes. They spoke of atmos heric effects, of middie distance, of ‘‘chiaro- oscuro,” of fore-shortening, of the decom- position of light and of the subordination oif individuality to fidelity of interpreta- tion. One tall girl, with hair almost white in its blondne having - observed that the handiing of the masses reminded her strongly of Corot, her companion, who carried \a gold lorgnette by a chain around her neck, answered: - “Ah! Millet, g!!hlpl. but not Corot.’ This verdict had an Immediate success. It was passed from group to group. It seemed to imply a deljcate distinction that carried conviction at once. It was decided formally that the reddish brown cows in the picture were reminiscent of Daubigny, and that the handling of the masses was altogether Millet, but that the general effect was not Corot. Presley, curious to see the. painting that was the subject of so much discus- sion, had left the group In the round win- dow, and stood close by Hartrath, cran- ing his head over the shoulders of the crowd, trying to catch a gllmpu of the reddish cows, the milkmaid and the biue painted foothi He was suddenly aware ef Cedarquist's voice in his ear, and turning about, found himself face to face with the manufacturer, his wife and his two daughters. There was a meeting. Salutations were exchanged, Presley shaking hands all around, expressing delight at seeing his old friends once more, for he had known the family from his boyhood, Mrs, Cedar- quist being his aunt. Mrs. Cedarquist and her two daughters declared that the air of Los Muertos must certainlyghave done him a world of good. He was stout- er, there could be no doubt of it. A lit- tle pale, perhaps. He was fatiguing him- self with his writing, no doubt. Ah, he must take care. Health was everything, after all. Had he been writing any more verse? Every month they scanned the magazines, looking.for his name. rs. Cedarquist was a fashionable wo- man, the president or chalrman of a score of clubs. She was forever running after fads, appearing continually in the so- clety wherein she moved with new and astounding proteges—fakers whom she unearthed no one knew where, discover- ing them long In advance of her compan- fons. Now it was a Russian Countess, with dirty finger npails, who traveled throughout America and borrowed money; now an aesthete who possessed a wonderful collection of topaz gems, who submitted decorative schemes for the interior arrangement of houses and who “‘received” in Mrs. Cedarquist's drawing- rooms dressed in a white velvet cas- sock; now a widow of some Mohammedan of Bengal or El]Yu!lna, who had a blue spot in the middle of her forehead and who solicited contributions for her sis- ters in affliction; now a certain bearded poet, recently back from the Klondike: now a decayed musician who had been ejected from a young ladies’ musical conservatory of Europe because of cer- tain surprising pamphlets on free love, and who had come to San Francisco to introduce the community to the music of Brahms: now a Japanese youth who wore spectacles and a gray flannel shirt at intervals, delivered him- most astonishing pcems, vague, unrhymed, unmetrical, lucu- brations, incoherent, bizarre; now a chmmg. Scientist, a lean, gray woman, whose treed was neither Christian nor scientific; now a university professor, with the bristling beard of an anarchist chief-of-section, and a roaring, guttural volce, whose Intenseness left him gasp- ing and apoplectic; now a civilized Cher- okee with a mission; now a female elo- cutionist, whose forte was Byron's ‘Songs of Greece; now a high-caste Chi- naman; now a minfature painter; now a tenor, a pianiste, a mandolin player, a missionary, a drawing master, a virtuoso, a collector, an Armenian. a botanist with * & new flower, a critic witk. a new theory, a doctor with a new treatment. And all these people had a veritable mania for declamation and fancy dress. The Russian Countess gave talks on the prisons of Siberia, wearing the headdress and pinchbeck ornaments of a Slav bride; the aesthete, in his white cassock, gave readings on obscure questions of art and cthics. The widow of India, In the cos- tume of her caste, described the =social life of her pedple at home. The bearded poet, perspiring In furs and boats of rein- deer skin, declaimed verses of his own composition about the wild life of the Alaskan mining camps. . The Japanese youth, in the silk robes of the Samural two-sworded nobles, read from his own works—'The flat-bordered earth, nailed down at night, rusting under the dark- ness”; “The brave, upright rains, that came down like errands from¥%iron-bodied yere time." ‘The Christian Scientist, in funereal, impressive black, discussed the contra-will and pan-psychic hylozoism. The university professor put on a dress suit and lislethread gloves at 3 iIn the afternoon and before literary clubs and circles bellowed extracts from Goethe and Bchiller in the German, shaking his fists, purple with vehemence. The Cheroke arrayed in fringed buckskin and biue beads, rented from a costumer, intoned folk songs of his people in the yernacular. The elocutionist in cheese-cloth toga and tin bracelets, rendered ‘‘The Isles of Greece, where burning Sappho loved and sung.” The Chinaman, in the robes of a mandarin, lectured on Confuclus. The Armenian, in fez and baggy trousers, ipoke of the Unspeakable Turk. The mandolin layer, dressed iike a bull fighter, held musical conversaziones, in- :ea)reung the peasant songs of Anda- usia. - a. It was the Fake, the eternal, irrepressi- ble Shnsn; ‘ub. nimble, ubiquitous, tricked out in all the Fnrlphemal'n of Imposture, an endless defile of charlatans that passed interminably before the gaze of the city, marshaled by “lady presidents,” ex- ploited by clubs of women, by literary societies, reading circles, and culture or- ganizations. The attertion the Fake re- celved, the time devoted to it, the money which it absorbed, were incredible. It was all one that impostor after impostor was exposed; it was all one that the clubs, the circlés, the socleties were proved be- yond douht to have been swindled. The more the Philistine press of the city railed and guyed, the more the women' rallied to the defense of their protege of the hour. That their favorite was perse- cuted was to them a veritable rapture, Promptly they invested the apostle of culture with the glamour of a martyr. The fakers worked the communify as shell-game tricksters work a county fair, departing with bursting pocketbook: passing on the word to the next in line, assured that the place was not worked out, knowing well that there was erough for all. More frequently the public of the ecity, hink of more than one thing unable to at one time, prostrated itself at the feet of a single apostle, but at other moments, such as the present, when a Flower Fes- tival or a illion-Dollar Fair aroused enthusiasm in ail quarters, the oc- casion was one of gala for the entire Fake. The decaved professors. virtuosi, litterateurs and artists thronged to the place en masse. Their clamor filled all the air. On every hand one heard the scraping of violins, the tinkling of mandolins, the suave accents of ‘art talks,” the incoherencies of poets, the declamation of elocutionists, the inarticu- Jate wanderings of the Japanese, the con- fused mutterings of the Cherokee, the gut- tural bellowing of the German university professor, all in the name of the millio dollar fair. Money to the extent of hun- dreds of thousands was set In motion. Mrs. Cedarauist was busy from morn- ing until night. One after another, she was introduced to rewly arrived fakers. To edch poet, to each litterateur, to each arofeuor. she addressed the same ques- on: ‘““How long have you known you had this power?"” She spent her d in one quiver of ex- citement and jubilation. She was “in the movement.” The people of the city were awakening to a realization of the heau- . tiful, to a sense of the higher needs of life. This was art, this was literature, this was culture and refinement. The re- najssance had appeared in the West. « She was short. rather stout, red faced, very much overdressed little woman of some fifty vears. She was rich in her own name. even beforesher marriage, be- Ing a relative of Shelgrim himself and on familiar terms with the great financier and his family. Her busband. while de- ploring’ the policy of the raiiroad, saw no good reason for quarreling with Shel- im, and on more than one occasion had ined at hie house. : On this occasion. delighted that she had come upon & “minor poet.”” she insisted upon presenting him to Hartrath. . ““You two should have so much in.com- maon,” she explained. Presley shook the flaceid hand of the artist, murmuring conventionalities, while Mrs. Cedarquist hastened to say: “l1 am sure you know Mr. ~Presley’s verse, Mr. Hartrath. You should, believe me. You two have much in common. I can see so much that is alike in your modes of interpreting nature. In Mr. Presley’s sonnet, ‘The Better Part,’ there is the same note as in your picture, the same sincerity of tone, the same subtlety of touch, the same nuances—ah.” “Oh, my dear madam.,” murmured the artist, interrupting Presley’s impatient re- tort; “I am a mere bungler. You don't mean quite that, I am sure. I am too sensitive. It is my cross. Beauty,” he closed his sore eyes with a little expres- sion of pain, ‘‘beauty unmans me.” But Mrs. Cedarquist was not listening. Her eyes were fixed on the artist's lux- uriant hair, a thick and glossy mane, that all but covered his coat collar. “‘Leonine!" she ~murmured—"leonine! Like Samson of old.” However, abruptly bestirring herself, she exclaimed a second later: “But I must run away. 1 am selling tickets for you this afternoon, Mr. Hart- rath. I am having such success. Twenty- five already. Mr. Presley, you will take two chances, I am sure, and. oh, by the way, I have such good news. You know 1 am one of the lady members of the subscription committee for' our fair, and you know we approached Mr. Sheigrim for a donation to help along. Oh, such a liberal patron, a real Lorenzo di Me- dicl. In the name of the Pacific and Southwestern, he had subseribed, think of it, five thousand dollars; and yet they will talk of the meanness of the railroad.” ‘“Possibly it is_to his imterest,” mur- mured Presley. “The fairs and festivals bring people to the city over his railroad.” But the others turned on him, expostu- lating. *“Ah, you Philistine,” declared Mrs. Ce- darquist. “And this from you, Presley; to attribute such base motives—"" “If the poets become materialized, Mr. Presley,”” declared Hartrath, “‘what can We say to the people?” “‘And Shelgrim encourages your million- dollar fairs and fetes,” said a volce at Presley’s elbow, “because it is throwing dust In the people’s eyes.” . The group turned about and saw Cedar- quist, who had come up unobserved in time to catch the drift of the talk. But he spoke without bitterness; there was even a good humored twinkle in his eyes. “‘Yes,” he continued, smiling; “our dear Shelgrim promotes your fairs, not enly as Pres says, because it is money in his pocket, but because it amuses®the people, distracts their attention from the doings of his railroad. When Beatrice was a baby and had little colics, T used to jingle my keys in front of her nose, and it took heér attention from the pain in her tum- my; so Shelgrim."” The others laughed good humoredly, protesting nevertheless, and Mrs. Cedar- quist shook her finger in warning at the artist and exclaimed: “The Philistines be upon thee, S8amson!" “By the way,” observed Hartrath, will- Ing to change the subject, “I hear you are on the famine rellef committee. your work progress?” “‘Oh, most famously, I assure you,’ said. “Such a movement as we started. Those poor creatures. The pho- tographs of them are simply dreadful. I had the committee to luncheon the other day and we passed them around. We are etting subscriptions from all over the tate, and Mr. Cedarquist is to arrange for the ship.” The relfef committee in question was one of a great number that had been formed in California—and all over the Union, for the matter of that—to provide relief for the victims of a great famine in Central India. -The whole world had been struck with horror at the reports of suffering and mortality in the affected districts, and had hastened to send aid. Certain women of San Francisco, with Mrs. Cedarquist at their head, had or- ganized a number of committees, but the manufacturer’s wife turned the meetings of these committees into social affairs— luncheons, teas, where one discussed the ways and means of assisting the starvin; Asiatics over teacups and plates of salad. Shortly afterward a mild . commotion spread throughout the assemblage of the club's guests. The drawing of the num- bers in the raffle was about to be made. Hartrath, In a flurry of agitation, excused himself. Cedarquist took Presley by the arm. “‘Pres, let's get out of this,” he said. “Come into the wineroom and I will shake you for a glass of sherry.” They hmf some difficulty in extricating themselyes. The main room where the drawing was to_take gllce suddenly be- came densely thronged. All the guests pressed eagerly about the table near the icture, upon which one of the hall boys End just placed a ballot box containing the numbers. The ladies, holding their tickets in their hands, pushed forward. A staccato chatter of excited murmurs arose. “What became of Harran and Lyman and the governor?' inquired Presley. Lyman had disappeared, alleging a busi- ness engagement, but Magnus and his younger son had retired to the library of the club on the floor above. It was al- most deserted. They were in earnest con- versation, “Harran,” said the governor, with de- cisfon, “there is a deal there in what Ce- gnrq)ulst says. Our wheat to China, hey, vy “l;l is certainly worth thinking of, sir." “It appeals to me, boy: it appeals to me. It's big and there's a fortune in it. Big chances mean big returns. And know—your old father isn't a back num- ber yét, Ha-ran—I may not have so wide an eutlook as our friend Cedarquist, but I am quick to see my chance. Boy, the whole East is opening, disintegrating be- fore the Anglo-Saxon. It is time that breadstuffs, as weil, should make mar- kets for themselves in the Orient. Just at this moment, too, when Lyman will scale down freight rates so we can haul to_tidewater at little cost.” Magnus paused again, his frown beet- ling, and in the silence the excited mur- mur from the main room of the club, the soprano chatter of a multitude of wo- men, found its way to the deserted li- brary. “I ‘believe it's worth looking into, Gov- ernor,” asserted Harran. Magnus rose, and, his hands behind him, paced the floor of the library a couple of times, his imagination all stim- ulated and vivid. The great.gambler per- ceived his chance, the kaleidoscopic shift- ing of circumstances that made a situa- tion. It had come sflently, unexpec(edli/. He had not seen its approach.. Abruptly he woke one morning to see the combina- tion realized. But he also saw a vislon. A sudden and abrupt revolution in the wheat. A new world of markets discov- ered, the matter as important as the dis- covery of America. The torrent of wheat was to be diverted, flowing back upon itself in a sudden. colossal eddy, strand- ing the middleman, the entrepreneur, the elevator—and mixing-house men dry and despairing, their occupation gone. He saw the farmer suddenly emancipated, the world’s food no longer at the mercy of the speculator, thousands upon thou- sands of men set free from the frl]; of trust and ring and monopoly -acting for themselves, seclling their own wheat, or- ganizing ingo one gigantic trust them- selves, sending their agents to all the entry ports of China. Himself, Annixter, Broderson and Osterman would pool their issues. He would convince them of the magnificence of the new movement. They ‘would be its pioneers. Harran would be sent to Hongkong to represent the four. They would charter—probably buy—a ship, perhaps one of Cedarqyist’s, Ameri- can built, the nation’s flag dt the peak, and the sailing of that ship, gorged with the crops from Broderson's and Oster- man’s ranches, from Quien Sabe and Los Murertos, would be like the salling of the caravels from Palos. It would mark a new era; it would mark ar epoch. ‘With this vision still expanding before the eye of his mind, Magnus, with Har- ran at his elbow, prepared to depart. They descended to the lower floor and involved themselves for a moment in the throng of fashionables that blocked the hallway and entrance to the main room, where the numbers of the raffle were being drawn. Near the head of the stairs they encountered Presley and Cedar- quist, who had just come out'of the wine- room. Magn still on fire with the new idea. pressed a few questions upon the manu- facturer before bidding him good-by. He wished to talk further upon the ‘great subject, interested as to detalls. but Ce- darquist'was vague in his replies, He was no farmer; he hardly knew wheat when he saw it, onlv he knew the trend of the world’s affalrs; he felt them to be setting inevitably eastward. 7 However, his very w: leness was _a further insniration to the Governor. He He saw only the swept detafls aside. grand coup, the huge results, the East conquered, the march of empire rolling westward, finally arriving at its starting point. the vague. mystericus Orient. He saw his wheat, like vancing billow, Pacifi bursting upon Asia, € in a golden torrent. It was the new He had lived to see the death of the 'old and the birth, of the new: the now the ranch: first gold, now wl Once again he became the pioneer, brilliant, taking colossal chances, ing the way grasping a fortune—a - lion in a single day. All the bigness of c, his nature leaped up again within him. At the magnitude of the inspiration he feit young again, indomitable, the leader at last, king of his fellows, wresting from fortune at this eleventh hour, before his oid age, the place of high command which so long had been denied him. At lact he could achieve. Abruftly Magnus was aware that some one had sposen his name. He looked about, and saw behind him, distance, two gentlemen, strangers to him. They had withdrawn from the crowd into a little recess. Evidently having no women to look after, they had lost in- terest in the afternoon's affair. Magnus reaiized that they had not seen him. One of them was reading aloud to his com-~ panion from an evening edition of that day’s newspaper. It was in the course of this reading that Magnus caught the gound of his name. He paused, listen~ ing, and Presley, Harran and Cedarquist followed his example. Soon they all un- derstood. They were listening to the re- gor! of the Judge's decision, for which dagnus was waiting—the decision In the case of the league vs. the railroad. For the moment the polite clamor of the raf- fle hushed itse.f—the winning number was being drawn. The guests held thefr breath, and in the ensuing silence Mag- nus and the others heard these woi distinetly: S * It follows that the tille te the lands in question is in the plaintifft— the Pacific and Southwestern Ratiro and the defendants have no title, an: their possession is wrongful. There must be findings and judgment - for the plain= tiff, and it is so ordered,” In spite of himself Magnus pa'ed. Har- 1an shut his teeth with an oath. Their exultation of the previous moment col= lapsed like a pyramid of cards. The vision of the new movement of the whea the conquest of the East, the invasion o the Orient. seemed only the flimsiest mockery. With a brusque wrench they . were snatched back to reality. Between them and the vision, between the fecund San Joaquin, reeking with fruitfulness, and the millions of Asia crowding toward the verge of starvation, lay the iron-hearted monster of steel and steam, implacable, insatiable, huge—its entrails orged with the life blood that it sucked rom an entire commonwealth, its ever hungry maw glutted with the harvests that should have fed the famished bellies of the whole world of the Orient. But abruptly, while the four men stood there, gazing into each other’s faces, a vigorous hand-clapping broke out. The raffle of Hartrath's picture was over, and as Presley turned about he saw Mrs. Cedarquist and her two daughters sl naling eagerly to the manufacturer, ul= able to reach him because of the Inters vening crowd. Then Mrs. Cedarqul raised her voice and cried: “I've won; I've won!" Unnoticgd, and with but a brief word to Cedarduist, Magnus and Harran went down the marble steps leading to the street door, silent, Harranis arm tight around his father’s shoulder. At once the orchestra struck into a live- ly air. A renewed murmur versation broke out, as he sald good-by looked first at the retreating fig- ures of the ranchers, then at the gayly éressed throng of beautiful women and debonair young men, and indicating the whole scene with a single gesture, said, smiling sadly as he spoke: “‘Not 'a_city, Presley, not a city, but & Midway Plaisance.” II. Underneath the Long Trestle, where Broderson Creek cut the line of the rail- road and the upper road, the ground was l:owt and covcrsl“lwlth A‘l mnl‘l‘ld rowth of gray green ows. Alo: Borders “or™ the" creek were. occasional marshy spots, and now and then Hilma Tree came here to gather water-cresses, which she made into salads. The place was picturesque, secluded, an oasis of green shade In all the limitless, flat monotony of the surrounding wheat lands. The creek had eroded deep into the little gully, and no matter how hot it was on the baking; shimmering level of the ranches above, down here one always found one's self enveloped in an odorous, moist coolness. From time to time the ncessant murmur of the creek. pouring over and around the larger stones, was interrupted by the thunder of trains roaring out upon the trestle overhead, passing on with the furious gal- lop of their hunéreds of iron wheels, leaving In the air a taint of het oil, acrid smoke-and reek of escaping steam. On a certain afternoon, In the spring of the year, Hilma was returning to Quien Sabe from Hooven's by the trail that led trom Los Muertos to Annixter's ranch houses, under the trestle. She had spent the afternoon with Minna Hooven, who, for the time being, was xept indoors be- cause of a wrenched ankle. As Hilma descended into the gravel flats and thick- ets of willows underneath the trestie she decided that she would gather soms cresses for her supper that night. S found a spot around the base of o of the supports of the trestle where the cresses grew thickest, and plucked a couple of handfuls, washing them in the creek and pinning them up ir. her hand- kerchief. It made a little, round, cold bundle, and Hilma, warm from her walk, found a delicious enjoyment in pressin; the damp ball of it to her cheeks an neck. For all the change that Annixter had noted in her upon the occasion of the barn dance Hilma remained In many things a young child. le was never at a loss for enjoyment, and could always amuse herself when left alone. Just now she chose to drink from the creek, mxa prone on the ground, her face half burt in the water, and this not use she was thirsty, but because it was a ne way to drink. She imagined herself a belated traveler, a poor girl, an oute cast, quenching her thirst at the way- side’ brook, her little packet of cresses doing duty for a bundle of clothes. Night was coming on. Perhaps it would storm, She had nowhere to go. She would ape ply at a hut for shelter. Abruptly the temptation to dabble her feet in the creek presented itself to her. Always she had liked to play in t water. What a delight now to take her shoes and stockings and wade out into the shallows near the bank! She had worn low shoes that afterncon. and the dust of the trail had flitered in above the edges. At times she felt the grit and gray sand on the soles of her feet, and the sensation had set her teath om edge. What a delicious - cold, clear water suggcsted,” and how easy it would be to do as MM just then, if only she were a liti girl In the end, it was stupid to be grown up. Sitting upon the bank, cne finger tuek- ed into the heel of her shoe, Hilma hesi- tated. Sup; a train should come! She fancied she could ses the enginesr Jeaning from the cab with a great grin his_face, or the brakeman at her from the platform. Al ly she blushed scariet. The blood throl n her temples. Her heart Since the famous evening of the barn dance Annixter had spoken to her but twice. Hilma no longer looked after ti ranch house these days. The setting foot within Annixter’s di room and bedroom terrified her, and the end her mother had taken over ti part of the work. Of the two with the master of Quien Sabe one been a mere exchange of good mornin as the two happened to artesian well; ouse agal look over the new cheese press, sbout details of her work. When that previous ‘had happened on occasion, endi with Annixter’s attempt to kiss her, Ilma had ,been talkative enough, chattering on m one subject to an- other, never at a loss for a theme. But this last time was a veritable ordeal. sooner had Annixter appeared heart leaj and quivered like :5';‘”" -harried 8ce. Her speech fail- er. Throughout the whole brief in. terview she had been miserably tongue~ tied, stammering monosyliables, confused, herribly awkward, and when Annixter had gone away she had fled to her Iit- tie room, and, bolting the door, had herself downward on the bed and as_though her heart were did not know why. with ‘business & through the wh """‘-.l' tk business winter an inexpressible m Hilma. His a fairs took him away from the ranch tinually. He was absent ‘weeks. making trips to fan Franciseo, or Perhaps ? to Sacramento, or to he was forgetting her—overl at first, she told nothing began to occupy her min so. and while, e better, the idea of She began to wonder if it was real She knew and zing Hilma’s notion, heroic age In fa Dfi“n“!«h&hn:ne;m'm A sul A ’nn.vc auxiliaries alding him in his (Continued Next Week.)