The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 30, 1902, Page 11

for the moment abstracted, serious, lost in thought. By now every one was eating. It was the feeding of the people, clementer £ross, a great appeasing of .appetite, an enormous guenching of thirst. Quarters of beef, roasts. ribs, shoulders, haunches were consumed, loaves of bread by the thousands disappeared, whole barrels of L went down the dry and dusty throats of the muititude. ~Conversation lagged while the people ate. while hun- ¥er was appeased. Everybody had their fll. One ate for the sake of eating, re- 83led that there should be nothing left, tousideniug it & maiter of pride to ex- hibit a clean plate. After diuner, preparations were made for games. On a flat pln‘nu at the top of one of the hills the coblestants were 1o strive. There was to be a footrace of young girls under seventeen, a fat men's race, the younger fellows were to put the shot, to compete in the running broad jump and the standing high Jump, in the hop, skip and step nn: in wrestling. Presley was delighted with it all. It was Homeric, this feasting, this vast consuming of meat and bread and wine, followed now by games of strength. An epic simplicity and directness, an honest Anglo-Saxon mirth and innocence, com- mended it. Crude it was; coarse it was; but no taint of viciousness was_ bere. These people were good people, kindly, benignant even, always readier to give than to receive, always more willlng to help than to be helped. They were good stock. Of such was the backbone of the nation—sturdy Americans every one of them. Where else in the word round were such strong, honest men, such strong, beautiful women? Annixter, Harran and Presley climbed to the level of the plateau where the games were to be heid. to lay out the courses and mark the distances. It was the very place where once Presley ha Joved to lounge entire afternoons, read- ing his books of poems, smoking and dozing. From this high point ohe domi- nated the entire valley to the south and west. The view was superb. The three men paused for a moment on the crest of the hill 1o consider it. Young Vacca came running and pant- ing up the hill after them, calling for Annixter. * “Well, well, what is §t2?” “Mr. Osterman’s looking for you, sir, you and Mr. Harran. Vanamee, that cowboy over at Derrick’s, has just come from the governor with a message. I guess it's important.” “Hello, what's up now?” muttered An- ter. as they turned back. They found Osterman saddling his horse in furious haste. Near by him was Vana- mee holding by the bridie an animal that was one lather of sweat. A few of the ickers were turning their heads cu- sly in that direction. Evidently some- thing of moment was in the wind. “What's all up?”’ demanded Annixter, &s he and Harran, foliowed by Presley, drew near. “There’s hell to pa: man under his breath amee just brought it.” He handed Annixter a sheet of note paper, and turned again to the cinching of his_saddle. “We've got to be quick,” he *“They’'ve stolen a march on us.” Annixter read the note, Harran and Presiey looking over his shoulder. “Ah, it's them, is it,” exclaimed Annix- ter. Harran set his teeth. he_exclaimed. “They’ve been to Mr. Annixter,” exclaimed Oster- ‘Read that. Van- cried. “Now for it, your place already, sald Vanamee. “I passed by it on my w: They have put De- laney in possession and have set all your furniture out in the road.” Annixter turned about, his lips white. Already Presley and Harran had run to their hors “Vacca!” cried Annixter; “where’s Vac- ca? Put the saddle on the buckskin, quick. Osterman, get as many of _the league as are here together at this spot, understand. TI'll be back in a minute. I must tell Hilma this.” Hooven ran up as Annixter disappeared. His little eves were blazing; he was drag- ging his horse with him. “BSay, dose fellers come, hey? Me, I'm alreity; see, 1 hev der gubn. “They've mped the ranch, little girl,” r, putting one arm around “They're in our house now. I'm Go “to Derrick’s and wait for me there.” She put her arms around his neck. “You're going?” she demanded. “I must. Don't be frightened. Tt will Il right. Go to Derrick’s and—good- e said never a word. She looked once long into his eyes, then kissed him on the mouth Meanwhile the news had spread. The de rose to its feet. Women and men, wi ale faces, looked at each other speech!: or Lroke forth into inarticu- Jate exclamations. A strange, unfamiliar murmur took the place of the tumuituous of the previous mony:nts. A sense ad, of confusion, of unpending ter- ror weighed heavily in the air. What was now to happen? When Annixter got back to Osterman found a number of the leaguers al dy assemb They were all mount- Hooven s there and Harran, and he besides these, Garnet of the Ruby ranch Gethings of the San Pabilo. Phelps. foreman of Los Muertos, and, last of Dabney, one. and the all no silent as ever, speaking to Presley came riding up. keep out of this, Pres,” cried An- * exclaimed Gethings. > we're all here.” “Ali! 1l of us?” cried Annixter. “Where are the six bundred men who were going to rise when this happened They had wavered, these other leaguer: Now, when the actual crisis impended, they were smitten with confusion. Ah, no, they were not going to stand up and be shot at just to save Derrick’s land. They were not armed. What did Annix- ter and Osterman take them for? No, sir; the raiiroad had stolen a march on them. After all his big talk Derrick had aliowed them to be taken by surpris The only thing to do was to call a meet- ing of the executive committee. That was the only thing. As for going down thete with no weapons in their hands, no, sir. That was asking a little too much. “Come on, then, boy: shouted Oster- man, turning his back on the others. “The governor says to meet him at Hooven's. We’ll make for the long tres- tle and strike the trail to Hooven's there.” They set off. It was a terrible ride. Twice during the scrambling descent from the hills Presley’s pony fell beneath bim. Annixter, on his buckskin, and Os- terman, on his thoroughbred, good horse- men woth, led the others, setting a_ ter- rific pace. The hills were left behind. Broderson Creek was crossed and on the levels of Quien Sabe, straight through the standing wheat, the nine horses, flogged and spurred, stretched out to their ut- most. Their passage through the wheat sounded like the rip and tear of a gigan- tic web of cloth. The landscape on either hand resolved itself into a long biur. Tears came to the eyes, fly]nf Jebbles, clods of earth, grains of wheat flung up in the flight, stu the face like shot. Osterman’s thoroughbred took the second crossing of Broderson’s Creek in a single leap. own under the long trestle tore the cavalcade in a shower of mud and gravel; up again on the farther bank, The horses blowing like steam engines; on into the trail to : ooven’, S S Presley’s pony 3 orse bleeding at the eyes, the buckskin, game s a fighting cock, catching her second wind, far in the lead now, distancing even the English thoroughbred that Osterman rode. At last Hooven's unpainted house, be- neath the enormous live oak tree, came in sight. Across the lower T ‘break- ing through fences and into the yard around the houne',ulll:u e the leaguers. Magnus was waiting them. T::-l riders dl;:ou;ted. hardly less ex- hausted than their horses. “Why, where’s all the men?” Annixter us. And the six hundred ‘who veren‘olu to rise when this fd exclaimed Garnett, bitterly. < “Rot the league Annixter. “It's gone to pot—went to pleces at the first touch.” " 3 ““We have been taken by . Bén- tlemen, after all,” seld Magnus, otally off our guard. But there are eleven of u{.'wle!“h Thats d; game? Has the mar- shal co'n‘c'? How many men are with him? 5 “The United States marshal from San Francisco,” _expl Magnus, “‘came down early this morning and stopped at Guadalajara. We Jearned it all through our friends in Bonneville about an hour ago. They telephoned me and Mr. Brod erson. S. hrman met him and provi ed about a dozen deputies. Delaney, Rug. es and Christian joined them at Gua- flm-n. ‘They , solng toward Mr. Annixter's ranci on e b, TR e e Ty Doy a - et e e ek Behrman is with them.” “Where are they now ™" “Cutter is watching them from the long trestie. They returned to Guadalajara. They are there now."” “Well.” observed Gethings, “from Gua- dalajara they can only go to twe places. Either they will take the upper road and 80 on to Osterman’s next, or they will take the lower road to Mr. Derrick's.” “That 18 as 1 supposed,” said Magnus. “That s why 1 wanted you to come here. From Hooven's. here. we can watch both roads simultaneously." “'Is anybody on tne lookout on the up- per road? “Cutter. He is on the long trestle.” “Say,” observed Hooven, the ingtincts of the old-time soldier stirring him,¥"say, dose feller pretty demn schmart, I tink. We got to put some picket way oudt bei der lower roadt ajzoh. und he tek dose glassus Mist'r Enfixt'r got bel um. Say, look at dose irregation ditsch. Dot ditsch he run righd across both dose road, hey? Dat's some fine intrenchment, bedt. We fighd um from dose ditsch. In fact. the dry irrigating ditch was a natural trepch. admirably suited to the purpose, crossing both roads as Hooven pointed out and barring approach from Guadalajara to all the ranches save An- nixter's—which had already been seized, Gethings departed to join Cutter on the lonf trestle, while Phelps and Harran, taking Annixter's field glasses with them, and mounting their horses, went out to- ::trghcr\:’:dfl’mn - {he lower rheag to le marshal's appr that direction. P paEn After the outposts had left them, the party-In Hooven's cottage looked to their Wweapons. Long since every member of the league had been in the habit of car- rying his revolver with him. They were all armed and. in addition, Hooven had his ritie. Presley alone carried no weap- The main room of Hooven's house, in which the leaguers were now -assembled, was barren, poverty-stricken, but toler- ably clean, 'An old clock ticked vocifer- ously on a shelf. In one corner was a bed, with a patched, faded quilt. In the center of the room, straddling over the bare floor, stood a pine table. ~Around this the men gathered, two or three.oc- cupying chairs, Annixter sitting sideways on the table, the rest standing. I belleve. gentlemen,” said Magnus, that we can go through this day without bioodshed. I believe rot one shot need be fired. The railroad will not force the issue, will not bring about actual fighting. When the marshal realizes that we are thoroughly in earnest, thoroughly deter- mined, I am convinced that he will with- draw.” There were murmurs of assent. “‘Look here.” said Annixter, “if this thing can by any means be setfled peace- ably, I say let’s do it, so long as we don’t give in.” The others started. Was this Annix- ter who spoke—the Hotspur of the league, the quarrelsome, irascible fellow who loved and sought a quarrel? Was it An- nixter, who now had been the first and only one of them to suffer, whose ran had been seized, whose household posses- sions had been flung out into the road? “When you come right down to it,” he continued, “killing a man, no matter what he's done to you. Is a_serious busi- ness. 1 propose we make fone more at- tempt fo stave this thing off. Let's see if we can’t get to talk with the marshal himself; at any rate. warn him of the danger of going any further. Boys, let's not fire the frst shot. What do you say?” 4 he others agreed unanimously and promptly; and old Broderson, tugging un- easily at his long beard, added: “No—no—no violence, ' no unnecessary violence, that is. 1 should hate to have innocent blood on my hands—that is, if it is innocent. I don’t know, that S. Behr- man—ah, he is a—a—surely he had inno- cent blood on his head. That Dyke affair, terrible, terrible; but, then, Dyke was in the wrong—driven to it, though; the rail- road did drive him to it. 1 want to be fair and just to everybody—"" “There’s a team coming up the road from Los Muertos,” announced Presley from the door. “Fair and just to everybody,” mur- mured old Broderson, wagging his head, frowning perplexedly. *F don’t want to —to—to harm anybody unless they harm =3 s the team going toward Guadala- jara?”’ inquired Garnett, getting up and coming to the door. “Yes; it’s a Portuguese, one of the gar- den truck men.” ““We must turn him back,’” declared Os- terman. “He can't go through here: 'We don’t want him to take-any news on to the marshal and S. Behrman.” “I"il turn him back,” said Presley. He rode out toward "the market cart, and the others, watching from the road in front of Hooven's, saw him halt it. An excited interview followed. They could hear the Portuguese expostulating volu- bly. but in the end he turn<? back. ““Martial law on Los Mruertos, isn’t it?” observed Osterman. “Steady all,” he ex- claimed as he turned about, *‘here comes Harran.” Harran rode up at a gallop. The others surrounded him. “I saw them,” he cried. ing this way. 8. Behrman and Ruggles are in a two-horse buggy. All the others are on horseback. There are eleven of them. Christian and Delaney are with them. Those two have rifles.. I left Hooven watching them.” “Better call in Gethings and Cutter “We'll need ““They are com- "’ said Annixter. “I'll call them in,” Presley volunteered at once. “Can’I have the buckskin? My pony is about done up.” He departed at a brisk gallop, but on the way met Gethings and Cutter return- ing. They, too. from their elevated posi- tion, had observed the marshal's party leaving Guadalajara by the lower road. Presley told them of the decision of the leaguers not to fire until fired upon. “All right,” said Gethings. ‘“But if it comes to a gun fight, that means it's all up with at least one of us. Delaney never misges his man.” ‘When they reached Hooven's again they found that the leaguers had already taken their position in the ditch. The g:nnk bridge across it had been torn up. lagnus, two long revolvers lying on the embankment in front of him, was in the middle, Harran at his side. On either side, some five feet intervening between each man, stood the other leaguers, their re- volvers ready. Dabmey, the silent old man, had taken off his coat. **Take your places between Mr. Oster- man and Mr. Broderson,” sald Magnus, as the three men rode up. “Presley,” he added. “I forbid you to take any part in this affair.” “‘Yes, keep him out of it.,” cried Annix- ter from his position at the extreme end of the line. “Go back to Hooven's house, Pres, and look after thé horses,” he add- ed. “This is no business of yours. And keep the road behind us clear. Don't let any one come near, not any one, under- stand?” Presley withdrew, leading the buck- skin and the horses that Gethings and Cutter had ridden. He fastened them un- der the great live oak and then came out and stood in the road in front of the house to watch what was going on. In the ditch, shoulder deep. the leag- uers, ready, watching, waited in silence, their eves fixed on the white shimmer of the road leading to Guadalajara. “Where's Hooven?" inquired Cutter. “I don’t know,” Osterman replied. ‘‘He was out watching the lower road with Harran Derrick. Oh, Harran,” he called, “isn’t Hooven coming in?" “I don’t know what he is waiting for.” answered Harran. ‘‘He was to have come in just after me. He thought maybe the marshal’'s party might make a feint in this direction, then go around by the up- per road, after all. He wanted to watch them a little longer. But he ought to be here now. ““Think he'll own account?” ‘take a shot at them on his “Well, that’s to be thought of, t0o.” Suddenly there was a cry. Around the bend of the road in front of them came a gloud of dust. From it emerged a Borse’s ead. ¢ ““Hello, hello! There's something.” “Remember, we are not to fire first.” “‘Perhaps that's Hooven: I can't see. Isit? There only seems to be one horse.” “Too much dust for one horse.” Annixter, who had taken his field asses from Harran, adjusted them to eyes. “That’s not them.” he announced pres- ently, “nor Hooven either. That's a cart.” Then after another moment he added, “The butcher’s cart from Guadalajara.” The tension was relaxed. The men drew long breaths, settling back In their places. Lo ‘we let him go on, governor?”’ ““The bridge is down. e can't go by and we must not let him go back. We shall have to detain him and question him. I wonder the marshal let him pass.” “The cart approached at a lively trot. “*Anybody else in that cart, Mr. Annix- ter?” asked Magnus. ‘“Look carefully. It may be a ruse. It is strange the marshal should have let him pass.” The leaguers roused themselves again. Osterman had his hand on his revolver. “No,” called Annixter, in another in- “no, there’s only one man in it.” cart came up. and Cutter and Phelps. claml rl:f from the ditch, stop- ped it as it arrived in front of the party. “Hey—what—what?” exclaimed young butcher, pulling up. “Is that bridge broke?” , But. at the idea of beinghheld. the boy protested at the top of voice, badly frightened, bewildered, not knowing what was to happen next. *'No, no, i got my meat to deliver. I ain’t got nutning to do with you. He tugged at the reins, Lrying to turn the cart about. Cutter, with nis jack- knife, paried the reius just back of the i Say, “You'll stay where you are, m' son, for a while. We're not going to hurt you. but you are not going back to.town till we say so. Did you pass anyboay on the road out of town?” . in reply Lo the leaguers’ questions, the young butcher at last toid them he had passed @ two-horse buggy and a lot of men on horseback just beyond the rail- rvad tracss. They were headed tur Lous MiLertos. ““T'hat’s them, all right,” muttered An- nixter. ‘“Ihey’re coming by this road, sure.” ‘I'he butcher’'s horse and cart were led to one side of the road, and the horse tied 10 Lhe tence witn one of Lhe severed lines, The butcher himseif was passed over to Présiey, who locaed him in Hooven's o, *\well, what the devil,” demanded Os- terman, * become of Bismarck?” in fact, the butcher had seen nothing of Hooven. The minutes were Dassing, and still_he failed 1o appear. ““What's he up to, anyways?’ “Bet you what you like, they caught him. Just like that crazy Dutchman to get excited and go too near. You can ai- ways depend on Hooven to lose his head.” Five minutes passed, then ten. The road toward Guadaiajara lay empiy, baking and white under the sun. “Well, the Marshal and S. Behrman don't seem to be in any hurry, either.” “Shall 1 go forward and reconnoiter, Governor?’ asked Harran. . But Dabney, who stood next to Annix- ter, touched him on the shoulder and. without speaking, pointed down the road. Annixter looked, then suddenly cried out: “Here comes Hooven.” g The German gaioped into sight. around the turn of the roau, his rifle 1ald across his saddle. He came on rap.diy, puned up; and dismounted at the diicn. “Dey’re cummies,” he cried, trembling with excitement. “I watch um long dime der gate side oaf wer roadt in der busches. "Dey shtop bei aer gdte oder side der reiroadt trecks 4nd taix long aime mit one n'udder. Den gey gume un. bey're gowun sure do zum monkey-doodle pize- uess. Me, | see Gritschum put der kert- ridges in his guhn. 1 unk dey gowun to gome my blace first. Dey gowun to try but me Off, tek my home, ber Gott.” “All right, get down in here and quiet, Hooven. Don't fire unless—" “‘Here they are.” A half-dozen voices uttered the cry at once. There could be no mistake this time. A buggy, drawn by two horses, eame into Vview around the curve of the road. Three riders accompanied it, and behind these, seen at intervals In a cloud of dust were two—three—five—sixX others. _This, then, was 8. Benrman with the United States Marshal and his posse. The event that had been sSo long in prepara- tion, the event which it had been said would never come to pass, the last trial of strength, the last fight between the trust and the people, the direct, brutal grapple of armed men, the law defiled, the Government ignored, behold, here it was close at hand. Osterman cocked his revolver, and in the profound silence that had failen upon the scene, the click was plainly audible from end to end of the line. “Remember our agreement, gentlemen," cried Magnus, in a warning voice. “Mr. Osterman, I must ask you to let down the hammer of your weapon.” No one answered. In absolute gniet, standing motionless in their places, the leaguers watched the approach of the Marshal. Five minutes passed. The riders came on steadily. They drew nearer. The grind of the buggy wheels in the grit and dust of the road, and the prolonged clatter of the horses” feet began to make itself heard. The leaguers could distinguish”the faces of their enemies. in the buggy were S. Behrman and Cy- rus Ruggles, the latter driving. A tall man in a frock coat and siouched hat— the Marshal, beyond question—rode at the left "of the buggy—Delaney, carrying a Winchester, at the right. Christian, the real estate broker, S. Behrman’s cousin, also with a rifle, could be made out just behind the marshal. Back of these. ridipg well up, tinguishable in the. dust raised by ‘the bukey’'s wheels, S Steadily the distance between the leaguers and the posse diminished. “Don’t let them get too close, Gov- ernor,” whl:Bpered Harran. When S. Behrman’'s buggy was about one hundred- yards from the irrigating ditch Magnus sprang out upon the road, leaving his revolvers behind him. e beckoned Garnett and Gethings to fol- low, and the three ranchers, who, with the exception of Broderson, were the old- keep —est men present, advanced, without arms, to meet the Marshal. Magnus cried aloud: ‘‘Halt where you are.” From their places in the ditch, Annixter, Osterman, Dabney, Harran, Hooven, Broderson, Cutter and Phelps, their hands laid upon their revolvers, watched silent- ly, alert, keen, ready for anything. At the Governor’'s words, they saw Rug- gles pull sharply on the reins. The buggy came to a standstill, the riders doing likewise. Magnus approached the Mar- shal, still followed py Garnett and Geth- ings, and began to Speak. His voice was audible to the men in the ditch, but his ‘words could not be made out. They heard the Marshal reply quietly enough and the two shook hands. Delaney came around from the side of the buggy, his horse standing before the team across the road. He leaned from the saddle, listening to what was being said, but made no re- mark.” From time to time, S.' Béhrman and Ruggles, from their seats in the bug- gy, interposed a sentence or two into the conversation, but at first, so far_as the leaguers_could discern, neither Magnus nor the Marshal paid them any attention. They saw, however, that the latter re- Eealedly shook his head and once they ieard him exclaim in a loud voice: “I only know my duty, Mr. Derrick.” Then Gethings turned about, and seeing Delaney close at hand, addressed an un- heard remark to him. The cowpuncher replied curtly and the words seemed to anger Gethings. He made a sture, back to the ditch, showing the intrenched leaguers to the posse. De- laney appeared to communicate the news that the leaguers were on hand and pre- pared to resist, to the other members of the party. They all looked toward the ditch and plainly saw the ranchers there, standing to their arms. But meanwhile Ruggles had ad- dressed himself more directly to Magnus, and between the two an angry dis- cussion was going forward. Once even Harran heard his father exclaim: ‘“The statement is a lie and no one knows it better than yourself.” “‘Here,” growled Annixter to Dabney, who stood next him in the ditch, “those fellows are getting too close.. Look at them edging up. Don’t Magnus see that?"’ The other members of the marshal's force had come forward from their places behind the buggy and were spread out across the road. Some of them were gamered about Magnus, Garnett and ethings; and some were talking togeth- er, looking and pointing toward the ditch. Whether acting upon signal or not, the leaguers in the ditch could not tell, but it was certain that one or two of the posse had moved considerably forward. Besides this, Delaney had now placed his horse between Magnus and the ditch, and two others riding up from the rear had followed his example. The posse sur- rounded the three ranchers, and by now everybody was talking at once. - “Look here,” Harran called to Annix- ter, “this won't do. I don't like the looks of this thing. They all seem to be edg- ing up, and before we know it they may take the governor and the other men pris- oners.” “They ought to come baek,” declared Annixter. “‘Somebody ought to tell them that those fellows are creeping up.™ By now the angry argument between the governor and Ruggles had become more heated than ever. Their voices were rajsed; now and then they made furious gestures. ““They ought to come back,” cried Os- terman. “We couldn’t shoot now if any- mlnx should happen, for fear of hitting ™ “Well, it sounds as though something were going to happen Y‘retty soon.” They could hear Gethings and Delaney ’ann |ilnx furiously; another leputy .Join n. “I'm going to call the governor back,” exclaimed Annixter, suddenly clambering odt of the ditch. “No, no,” cried Osterman, ‘“keep in the ditrh. They can't drive us out if we keep here.” Hooven and Harran. who ‘had instinc- tively followed Annixter, hesitated at Os- terman’s words and the three halted ir- resolutely on the road before the ditch, their weapons in their hands. “‘Governor out Harra back.~ You can't do anythin, Still the wrangle , and one of the deputies, advancing a little from out the , was a group of horsémen, indis- THE SUNDAY CA the group, cried out: Rl o "Iféep back there! ' Keep back there, you!” *‘Go to hell, will you?"’ shouted Harran on the instant. “You're on my land. “Oh, come back here, Harran,” called Osterman. “That ain’t going to' do any £00d. “There—listen,” ~ suddenly, exclaimed Harran. ‘'The governor is’ calling us. Come on: I'm going.” Osterman got out of the ditch and came forward, catching Harran by the arm and pulling him back. “He didn't call. Don't get excited. Get back into the You'tl ruin everything. ditch again.” But Cutter, Phelps and the old man- Dabney, misunderstanding what ‘was hap- pening, and neetng Osterman leave the ditch, had followed his example. All the leaguers were now out of the ditch, and a little way down the road Hooven, Os- termgn, Annixter and Harftan in_ front, Dabney, Phelps and Cutter coming up from behind. “Keep back, you!” cried the deputy again, 5 In the group around S. Behrman’s buj 8y, Gethings and Delaney were yet qu: reling, and the angry debate = between Magnus, Garnett and the marshal continued. Till this moment the real estate broker, “Christian, ‘had taken no part in the argu. ment, but had kept himself in the rear of the buggy. Now, however, he pushed forward. There was but littfe room for him to pass, and, as he rode by the bug- 8y, his horse scraped his flank against the hub of the wheel. The animal re- cofied sharply and, striking against Gar- nett, threw him to the ground. Delaney's horse stood between the buggy and the leaguers gathered on the toad in front of ‘the ditch. The incident, indistinctly seen by them, was misinterpreted. - Garnett had not yvet risen when Hooven raised a great shout: “Hoch, der: Kaiser! land!"” With the words, he flrop?ed to one knee and. sighting his rifle care: ully. fired fnto the group of men around the buggy. Instantly the revolvers and rifles seemed to go off themselves. Both sides, dep- uties and leaguers, opened -fire simulta- neously. At first it was nothing but.a confused roar of explosions; then the roar lapsed to an irregular, quick succession of reports, shot leaping after shot; then a moment’s silence and, last of all, regu- lar as clock ticks, three shots at exact in- tervals. Then stillness, Delaney, shot through the stomach, slid down from his-herse. and, on his hands and.knees, crawled ffom the road into the standing wheat. Christian fell backward from the saddie toward the bu and hung suspended In that position, Bia head Hoch, der vater- - and shoulders on the wheel, cne stiff leg still across his saddle. Hooven, in at- tempting to rtse from his kneeling posi- tion, received a rifle ball squarely in the throat, and rolled forward upon his face. Old Broderson, crying out, “"Oh, they've shot me, boys,” staggered sideways, his head bent, his bands rigid at his sides, and fell into the ditch. Osterman, blood running from his mouth and nose, turned about and walked back. Presley helped him across_the irrigating ditch and Os- terman laid himself down, his head on, his folded arms. Harran Derrick drop- ed where he stood, turning over on his ace, and lay motionless, groaning terri- bly, a pool of blood forming under his stomach. The old man Dabney, silent as ever, received his death, speechless. He - ftell to his knees, got up again, fell once more, and died without a word. Annixter, instantly killed, fell his length to the ground and lay without movement, just as he had fallen, one arm across his fgce. VIL On their way to Derrick's ranchhouse Hiima and Mrs. Derrick heard the sounds of distant firing. ““‘Stop!" cried_Hilma, laying her hand upon young Vacca’'s arm. ‘‘Stop the horses. Listen, what was that?" ‘The carry-all came to a halt and from far away across the rustiing wheat came the frint rattle of rifles and revolvers. ‘“‘Say,” cried Vacca, rolling his eyes, “oh, say, they’'re fighting over there.” Mrs. Derrick put her hands over her face. “Fighting,’ she cried: “oh, oh. it's ter- rible. Magnus is there—and Harran.” ‘“Where do you think it is?” demanded Hilma. hat's over toward Hooven's.” 'm going. Turn back. Drive to Hoov- en’s, quick.” 5 “‘Better not, Mrs. Annixter.” protested tbe. yaung man. “Mr. Annixter said we were’ .10 go_to Derrick’s. Better keep away. from Hooven's if there’s troubl there. 3Ve wouldn't get there till it's al over, anyhgw. e ’?‘f t's. go home,” eried h?- Derri = 'ii atraid. Oh, ma, atraid.” 5 2 “*Come wifl e to. Hooven's, then. “There," where they are fighting? Oh, I couldn’t. I—T can’t. 1t would be all over before we got there,'as Mr. Vacca says.” “‘Sure,” repeated young Vacca. “Drive to Hooven's,”” commanded Hil- ma. “If you won't, I'll walk there.” She threw off the lap robes, preparing to de- scend. ‘*‘And you,” she exclalmed, turn- ing to Mrs. Derrick, “how can you—when Harran -and your husband may be—may— are in danger.” Grumbling, Vacca turned the can;‘y-nu about and drove, across the open fields till he reached the road to Guadalajara, Jjust below the ‘mission. “Hurry!” cried Hilma. The horses started forward under the touch of the whi The ranchhouse at Quien Sabe came in sight. _ “Do you want to stop a® the house?”’ ingquired Vacca over his shoulder. “No, no; oh, go faster—make the horses un,’ 5 They dashed through the houses of the home ranch. ““Oh, oh,” cried Hilma, suddenly, “look, look there. Look what they have done.” Vaéca pulled the horses up, for the road in frore of Annixter’'s house was blocked. A vast, confused heap of household ef- fects was there—chairs, sofas, pictures fixtures, lamps. Hilma’'s little home had been gutted; everything had been taken from it and ruthlessly flung out upon the road, everything that she and her hus- band had bought during that wonderful ‘week after their marriage. Here was the white enameled “set” of the bedroom fur- niture, the three chairs, washstand and bureau—the bureau drawers falling out, apllllntghthelr contents into the dust; there were the white wobl rugs of the sitting- room, the flower stand, with its pots all broken, its flowers wilting; the cracked goldfish globe, the fishes already dead; the rocking chair, the sewing machine, the great round table of yellow oak, the lamp with its deep shade of crinkly red tissue paper, the pretty tinted photographs that had hung on the T wall—the choir boys with beautiful eyes," the pensive young girls in pink gowns —the pleces of wood carving that represented quails and ducks, and, last of all, its curtains of crisp, clean muslin. cruelly torn and crushed—the bed, the ‘wonderful canopied bed so brave and gay, of which Hilma had been so proud, thrust out there into the common road, torn from its place, from the discreet inti- macy of her bridal chamber, violated, profaned, flung out into the dust and gar- ish sunshine for all men to stare at, a mockery ani a shame. To Hilma it was as though something of herself, of her person, had been thus exposed and degraded; all that she held sacred pilloried, gibbeted and-exhibited to the world's derision. Tears of anguish sprang to her eyes, a red flame of out- raged modesty overspread her face. “Oh,” she cried, a sob entchhM her throat, *“‘oh, how could they do it?" But other fears intruded: other greater ter- rors impended “Go on,” she cried to Vacca; “go on ickly.” i q‘;?ut YVacos would go no farther. He had seen what had escaped Hilma's at- tention, two men, deputies no doubt, on the porch of the ranchhouse.. They held possession there, and the evidence of the presence of the enemy in this raid upon 4 g 2 the Sunday Cull—November The Octopus is one of the. i ’ { %83 Fnat 32 longest novels of the day and —_— therefore it will take five innues of the Sunday Call to publish the complete sto 3 This splendid novel began in the Sunday Call of November 9 and will be completed next Sunday, December 7. By pur.’ chasing these five issues of the Sunday Call you get this novel—FREE! \ “Tuz Octopus” was written by the late Frank Norris. It is Mr. Norris’ strongest novel. i It has justly been consider-' ed the mearest approach to the “gremt Amevican mnovel” ever written. 25%s g It portrays life and scenes in California more vividly than any other book extant, = Complete in five insnes of stiil> -Quien Sabe had daunted him. **No. sir.”” he declared. getting out of. tke carry-all, “I ain’t going.to take you afywhere where you're liable to get hiwrt. besiues, the-road's blocked by all this stuff You can't get the team oy, ~ Hilma sprang from the carry-ali. “Come,” she said to The older woman, ing, faint with dread, Mrs. De . trembling, hesitat- obeyed, and Hilma, picking her way through and around the" wreck of her home, set off by the trail toward the long trestle and Hooven's. When she arrived she found the road n front of the German's house, and, in- deed, all the surrounding yard, crowded with people. An overturned buggy lay on the side of the road in the distance, its horses in a tangle of harness, held by two or three men. She saw Caraher's buckboard under the live oak and near it a second Wuggy which she recognized as belonging to a doctor in Guadalajara! h, what has happened; oh, what has happened?’ moaned Mrs. Derrick. A ‘“‘Come,” repeated Hilma. The young girl took her by the hand and together they pushed their. way through the crowd of men and women and entered the yard. The throng gave way before the two women, parting a word. v “Presley,” cried Mrs. Derrick, as she caught sight of him in the doorway of the house, ‘‘oh, Presley, what has hap- pened? Is Harran safe? Is Magnus safe? Where.are they ¢ “Don’t go in, Mrs. Derrick,” sald Pres- ley, coming forward; “don’t go in.” “Where is my husband?” demanded Hilma, Presley turned away and steadied him- self against the jamb of the door. - g Helma, leaving Mrs. Derrick, entered the house. The front room was full of men. - She was dimly conscious of Cyrus Ruggles and S. Behrman, both deadly pale, talking earnestly and in whispers to Cutter and Phelps. There was a strange, acrid odor of an unfamiliar drug in the air. On the table before her was a satchel, surgical instruments, rolis of bandages 'and a blue, oblong box full of cotton.” But above the hushed noises of voices and footsteps one terrible ‘sound made itself heard—the {tolonged, rasp- ing sound of breathing, half choked, la- bored, agonized. < “Where is my husband?” she cried. She pushed the men aside. She saw Magnus, bareheaded, three or four men lying on the floor, one haif naked, his body swathed in white bandages; the doctor in shirt sleeves, on one knee beside a' figure of a man stretched out beside him. Garnett turned a white face to her. “Where is my husband?” The other did Mot reply, but stepped aside, and Hilma saw the 'dead body of her husband gln( upon the bed. She did not cry out. She said no word. She went to the bed and, sitting upon it, took An- nixter's head In her lng_. olding it gently between her hands. Thereafter she did not move, but sat holdlnf her dead hus- band'’s, head in her lap, looking vaguely about from face to facé of those in the room, while, without a sob, without a cry. the great tears filled her wide-opened eyes and rolled slowly down upon her cheeks. < On hearing that his wife was outside, Magnus’ came quickly forward. She threw herself into his arms. - “Tell me, tell me,” she cried, “is Har- -ran—js—"" ‘We don’'t know yet,” “Oh, Annje—"" Then suddenly. himself. - He, the break down now. he answered. he governor checked indomitable, could not ““The doctor is with him,” he sald; “‘we are doing all we can. Try and be brave, Annie. ‘here is alwa; lrfio . This 1s terrible day's work. God forgive us all. bEl’ln‘e pressed forward, but he held her ack. “No, don't see him now. Go into the next room. Garnett, take care of her."” But she would not be denied. She push- ed by Magnus and, breaking through the group that surrounded her son, sank on her knees beside him, moaning, in com- passion and. terror. Harran lay straight and rigid upon the floor, ‘his head propped by a pillow, his coat that had been taken off spread over his_chest. - One leg of his trousers was soaked through and ithrough with blood. His eyés were half closed, and with the regularity of a machine, the eyeballs twitched and twitched. His face was so white that it made his yellow hair look brown, while from his opened mouth there issued that loud and terrible sound of guttering, rasping, labored. breathing that gagged and choked and gurgled with every inhalation. “‘Oh, Harrle, Harri called Mrs. Der- _ rick, catching one of his hands. The doctor shook his_head. “'He is unconscious, Mrs. Derrick.” ““Where was he—;&g!e» is—the—the—"" “Through the Jun i ? Tell me the truth.” Derrick.” She had ail but fainted, and the old rancher, Garnett, half carrying, half lead- ing her, took her to the one adjoining room—Minna Hooven's bedchamber. Dazed, numb with fear, she sat down on the edge of the bed, rocking herself back and forth, murmuring: ‘“‘Harrie, Harrie, ob, my son, my little . p In the outside room, Presley came and went, doing what he could to be of ser- Vice, " sick with horror, trembling from head to foot. The surviving members of both leaguers and deputies—the warring factions of the railroad and the peoll:le—m!ngled togeth- er now with no thought of hostility. Pres- ley helped the doctor to cover Christian's body. S. Behrman and Ruggles held bowls-of water while Osterman was at- tended to. The horror of that dreadful business had driven all other considera- tions from the mind. The sworn foes of the last hour had no thought of anything but to care for those whom, in their fury, they had shot down. The marshal, aban- doning for that day to serve the writs, departed for San Francisco. he bodies had been brought in from the road where they fell. Annixter's cor had been laid upon the bed; those of Dabney and Hooven, whose wounds had all been in the face and head, were covered with a tablecloth. Upon the floor places were made for the others. Cutter and Ruggles rode into Guadalajara” to bring out the doctor there and to tele- phone to Bonneville for others. Osterman had not at any time since the shooting lost consciousness. He lay upon the floor of Hooven’s house; bare to the walst, bandages of adhesive tape reeved about his abdomen and shoulder. His eyes were half closed. Presley. who look- ed after him, pending the.arrival of a hack from Bonneville that s to take him home, knew that he was in agony. But this poser, this silly fellow, this cracker of jokes, whom no one had ever taken very seriously. at the last redeemed himself. When at length the doctor had arrived, he had, for the first time, opened his eyes. “I can wait,” he said. first.” And when at length his turn had come, and while the sweat rolled from his fore- head as the doctor began prohln? for the bullet, he had reached out his. free arm and taken Presley's hand in his, gripping it harder and harder as the probe entered the woun His 'breath came. short through his nostrils: his face, the face of a comic actor, with its high cheek bones, bald forehead and salient ears, grew paler and paler, his great slit of a mouth shut tight, but he uttered no groan, : ‘When the worst anguish was over and hé could find breath to speak, his first words) had been: 2 2 5 ‘““Were any of the others badly hurt?” As Presley stood by the door. of the house: after bringing in a pall of, water for the doctor he was aware of a party of men who had struck off from the road on -the other side of the frrigating"ditch and were advancing curiousiy into the field of wheat. He wonderéd what it meant, and Cutter. coming ug at that moment. Presiey asked him if he knew, “It's Delaney,” said Cutter. “It ieemr: o that when he was shot he wled into the wheat. They are vfor;lln‘ for N etley haa_forgotten all about _the buster and had only a vague recollection of seeing him slide from his horse at the beginning of the fight. Anxious to know what had become .of him, he hurried up and joined the party of searchers. .. - “We better look out,” sald one of the oung men, ‘“how Ye. go fooling around n _here. . If he's alive ye:‘ he's just as liable as noth ttfl :Mnk ‘we're after him and take a shot at us.” - “] guess there ain’t much fight left in k. red. “Look at the “Lord! He’s bled like a stuck pig.” "flw- his hat,” abruptly claimed the ll?:d'u :{l %em party. “He can't be far off. t's g - leq repeatedly without getti; i o proceeded clngmufy!. ‘ance lpnowlm Té Was an out- “Take Harran in the wheat, his knees drawn g, wide 0] his i) ~eyes . pen, A R flg; volver. a v & 0 right and left without The men, farm hands from the neigh- boring ranches, young fellows from Gua- “ dala “dfew back in instinetive repul- jion.. One at length ventured near, peer- s fn’ dawn into the face. “Is'he dead?’ inquiréd those in the rear. 1 don’t, know.” : "“Well, put your hand on his heart.” N ‘Neo! 1—Fdon't want to.” “Wkhat you afraid of?” “Well, 1 just don't want to touch him, that's all. It’s bad luck. You feel his eart. h"You can't always tell by that.” “How can you tell, then? Pshaw, you fellows make me sick. Here, let me get there. I'll do it.” There was a long pause, as the other bent down and lald his hand on the cow- 's breast. “1 can't tell it beat and sometimes I don't. saw a dead man before. e *Well, you can't tell by the heart. “What's the good of talking so blame much. Dead or not, let's carry him back to_the house.” Twa or three ran back to the road for planks from the broken bridge. When they returned with these a litter was im- provised and, throwing their coats over the body, the J»ar(y carried it back to the road. The doctor-was summoned and declared the cowpuncher to have been dead over half an hour. ““What did 1 tell you?" explained one of the group. ““Well, I never sald he wasn’t dead,” protested the other. *“I only sald you couldn’t always tell by whether his heart beat or nol But all at once there was a commotion. The wagon containing Mrs. Hooven, Min< Sometimes I think I feel I never na and little Hilda drove up. “Eh, den, my men,"” cried Mrs. Hooven, wlidly interrogating the faces of the crowd. “Whadt has happun? Sey, den. dose vellers, hev dey hurdt my men, eh, whadt?"” She sprang from the wagon. followed by Minna with Hilda in her arms. The crowd bore back as they advanced, star- ing at them in silence. “Eh, whadt has happun, whadt has happun?" wailed Mrs. Hooven. as she hurried on, her two hands before her, the fingers spread wide. “Eh, Hooven, eh, my men, are you all righdt She burst into the house. Hooven's body had been removed to an adjoining room, the bedroom of the house, and to this room Mrs, Hooven—Minna still at her heels—procéeded. guided by an In- stinct born of the occasion. Those in the outside room. saying no word, made way for them. They entered, closinf the door behind. them, and through all the rest -of that terrible day no sound nor niaht of them was had by those who crowded into and about that house of death. Of all the main actors of the tragedy of the fight in the ditch, they remained the least noted, obtruded themselves the least upon the ‘world's observation. They were, for the moment, forgotten. But by now Hooven's house was the center of an enormous crowd. A vast concourse of people from Bopfiévilie, from Guadalajara, from the ranfhes, swelled by the thousands who had that morning participated in the rabbit drive, surged about. the place: men and women, young boys, young girls, farm hands, villagers, townspeople, ranchers, rallroad employes, Mexicans, Spaniards, Portuguese. Pres- ley, returning from "the search for De- laney’'s body, had to fight his way to the house again, And from all this multitude there rose an indefinable murmur. As yet there was no menace in it, no anger. It was con- fusion merely, bewilderment, the first long-drawn ‘“oh!” that greets the news of some great tragedy. The people had taken no thought as yet. Curiosity was their dominant impulse. Every one want- ed to see what had been done; failing that, to hear of it, and failing that, to be npear the scene of the affair. The crowd of people packed the road-in front of the house for nearly a_quarter of a mile in either direction. They. balanced themselves upon the lower strands of the barbed wire fence in their effort to see over each others’ shoulders: they stood on the seats of their carts, buggies and farm wagons, a few even upon the sad- dles of their riding horses. 'hey crowd- ed, pushed, struggled, surged forward and back without knowing why, converging incessantly upon Hooven's house. ‘When at length Presley got to the gate, he found a carry-ail drawn up before it. Between the gate and the door of the house a lane had been formed, and as he paused there a moment a group of leag- uers, among whom were Garnett and Gethings. came slowly from the door car- rying old Broderson in their arms. The doctor, bareheaded and in his shirt sleeves, squinting in the sunlight, attend- ed them, repeating at every step: “Slow. slow; take it easy, gentlemen.” Old Brode: was unconscious. His face was not pale; no bandages could be seen. Wi infinite precautions, the men bore him to the carry-all and de- posited him on the back seat; the raln flaps were let down on one side to shut off the gaze of the multitude. But at this point a moment of confu- sion ensued. Presley, because of half a dozen people who stood in his way, could not see what was going on. There were exclamations, hurried movements. The doctor uttered a sharp command, and a /man ran back to the house, returning on the jnstant with the goctor’s satchei. By this time Presley was close to the ‘wheels of the carry-all and could see the doctor inside the vehicle bending over old Broderson. ¥ “‘Here it is, here it Is,” ‘exclaimed the man who had been sent to the house. “T won’t need it,” answered the doctor; “he’s dying now.” At the words a great hush widened throughout the throng near at hand. Some -men took off their hats. “‘Stand back,” protested the doctor “stand back, good people, please. The crowd bore back a little. silence a woman began to sob. The sec- onds passed, then a minu@i# The horses of the carry-all shifted their feet and whisked their tails, drlvlng off the flies. At length the doctor got down from the carry-all, letting down the rain flaps on thac side.as well. “Will somebody go home with the Gethings stepped for- In the body?” he asked. ward and took his place by the driver. The earry-all drove away. Presley re-entered the house. During his absence it had been cleared of all but one or two of the leaguers who had taken part in the fight. Hilma still sat on the bed with Annixter's head in her lap. 8. Behrman, Ruggles and all the railroad party had gone. Osterman had been taken away in a~hack and the table- cloth over Dabney's body replaced with a sheet. But still unabated, agonized, raucous, came the sounds of Harran's breathing. Everything possible had al- ready been done. For the moment it wa! out of the question to attempt to move him. His mother and father were at his side, Magnus, with a face ofistone, his look fixed on those persistently twitching eyes; Annie Derrick crouching at her son’s side. one of his hands in hers, fan- nl:g his face continually with the crum- pled sheet of an old newspaper. Presley on tiptoes joined the group, looking on attentively. One of the sur- geons who had been called from Bonne- ville stood close by. watching Harran's face, his arms folde ‘‘How is he?”’ Presley whispered. ‘“He won’t live,” the other responded. By degrees the choke and gurgle of the breathing became more irregular and the lids closed over the twitching eyes. n at once the breath ceased. Magnus shot an inquiring glance at the surgeon. “He is dead, Mr. Derriek,” the surgeon replied. nnie Derrick, with a cry that rang through all the house, stretched herself over' the bady of her son, her head upon his breast. and the governor's great shoulders bowed never to rise again. “Gng‘l help me and forgive me,” he ned. Presley rushed from the house, beside himseif with grief. with horror, with pity and with mad. insensate rage.. On the porch outside Caraher met him. “Is he—is he—" began the saloon-keeper. *Yes, 's . dead,”. cried Presley. “They’re dead. murdered. shot down. deul.‘ dead, all of them. Whose turn is mex: “That's the way ‘they killed my wife, esley. "C:r"her." cried Presley, ‘“give me mr hand. TI've been wrong all the time. league is wrong. All the world is wrong. You are the only one of us all ‘who is t. I'm with you from aow on. God, I,°too, I'm a red!” n course of time a farm: wagon from ville arrived at Hooven's. The bod- ies af Annixter and Harran were placed in it, and it drove down the lower road toward the Los Muertos ranchhouses. The bodies of Delaney and Christian had already been carried to Guadalajara and mfi?}“ uu?,:.’.i'fi'."f." "-l«l:h!'- th ma rm e Derricks' carry-all, with Magnus and his wife. During all that ride none of them :g:k a word, ltmm-nnwmt. ice Quien Sabe was in the hands of the raliroad, Hilma should come to Los Muer-- also 's body tos. To that place was carried. i ]‘:u-"oll in I.I:h. day, when it was .li most . 3 undertaker’s blac! ‘wagon passed the Derricks’ holn' ranch oa fts way from Hooven's and turned into the county road toward Bonneville. The initial excitement of the affalr of the irrigating ditchjhad died down: the crowd long since hdd dispersed. By the time the wagon asecd Caraher's saloon the sun had set. Night was comitng en And the black wagon went on through the darkness, unattended, ignored, soli- tary, earrying the dead body of Dabney. the silent o!d man of whom nothing was known but his name, who made no friénds, whom nobody knew or spoke to, who had come from no one knew whence and who went no one kmew whither. oward midnight of that same day Mrs. Dyke was awakened by the sounds of groaning in the room next to hers. Mag- nus Derrick was not so oceupied by Har- ran's death that he could not think of others who were in distress, and when hé had heard that Mrs. Dyke and Sidney, Hkg Hilma. had been turned out of Quien Sabe, he had thrown open Los Muertos to_them. *“Théugh,” he warned them, “it is pre- carlous hospitality at the best.” Unti late Mrs. Dyke had sat up with Hilma, comforting her as best she could, rocking her to and fro in her arms, cry- ing with her, trying to quiet her, for once having given way to her grief, Hilma wept with a terrible anguish and a vio- lence that racked her from head to foot, and at last, worn out, a little child again, had ‘'sobbed herself to sieep in the older woman's arms, and as a little child Mrs. Dyke: had put her to bed and had re- tired ‘herself. Aroused a few heurs later by the sounds of a distress that was physical, as weil as mental, Mrs. Dyke hurried into Hilma's room, earrying the lamp with her. +Mrs. Dyke needed no enlightenment. She woke Pregley and besought him to tele phone to Bonneville at once, summoning a doctor. That night Hilma in great pain suftered a miscarriage. Presley did not close his eyes once dur- ing the night; he did not even remove his clothes. after the doctor had de- parted - -and that house of tragedy had quieted down, he still remained in his place by the open window of his little room, looking off across the leagues of growing wheat, watching the slow kind- ling of the dawn. Horror weighed intoler- ably upon him. Monstrous things, huge, terrible. whose names he knew only t0o well, whirled at a gallop through his Imagination, or rese spectral and sly before the eyes of his mind. Harran dead, Annixter dead, Broderson dead, Oster man, perhaps, even at that moment dying. Why, these men had made up his world. Annixter had been his bst fr end, Harran, his almost daily companion; Broderson and Osterman were familiar to him .as brothers. They were all his associates, his good friends, the group was his envir- onment, belonging Yo his daily life. And he, standing there in the dust of the road by the irrigating ditch, had seen them shot. He found himseif suddenly at his table. the candle burning at his elbow, his journal before him, writing swiftly, the desire for expression, the craving for out- let to the thoughts that clamored tumul- tuous at his brain, never more insistent, more imperious. Thus he wrote: ‘“Dabney dead, Hooven dead, Harran dead, Annixter dead, Broderson dead, Os- terman dying, S. Behrman alive, success- ful; the railroad in possession of Quien Sabe. I saw them shot. Not twelve hours since I stood there at the irrigating diteh, Ah, that terrible moment of horror and confusion! powder smoke—flashing pistol barreis—blood stains—rearing horses—men staggering to their death—Christian in a horrible posture, one rigid leg high in the alr across his ‘saddle—Broderson falling sideways into the ditch—Osterman laying himself down, his head on his arms, as if tired, tired out. These things, I have seen them. The picture of this day's work .is from henceforth part of my mind, part of me. They have done it, S. Behrman and the owners of the railroad have done it, while all the world looked on, while the people of the United States looked on. Oh, come now and try your theorfes upcu us, us of the ranchos, us who have suf- fered, us who know. Oh, talk to us now of the ‘rights of capital,’ talk to us of the trust, talk to us of the ‘equilibrium between ‘the classes.’ Try your ingemi- ous ideas upon us. We know. I cannot tell whether or not your theories are ex- cellent.. I do not know if your ideas are plausible, 1 do not know how practical is your scheme of soclety. I do not know if tne railroad has a right to our lands, but I do know that Harran is dead, that Aunuixter 1s dead, that Broderson is dead, tha: Hooven is dead, that Osterman is dying, and that S. Behrman is alive, suc- cessful, triumphant; that he has ridden into pessession of a principality over th deéud bodies of five men shot down by his hired associates. *1 can see the outcome. The rallroad will prevall. The trust will overpower us, Here In this corner of a great natien, here, on the edge of the continent, here, in this valley of the West, far from the great centers, isolated, remote, lost, the great Il’oni’ehnnd crushes life from us, crushes liberty and the pursuit of happi- ness from us, and our little struggles, our moment’s convulsion of death agony causes not one jar in the vast, clashing machinery of the nation’s life; a fleck of grit in the wheels, perhaps, a grain of sand in the cogs—the momentary ereak of the axle is the mother’'s wail of bereavement, the wife's cry of anguish— and the great wheel turns, spinning smooth again, even again, and the impédiment of a second, scarce noticed, is forgotten. Make the people belfeve that the faint tremor in their great engine is a menace to its function? What a folly to think of it. Tell them of the danger and théy" will ‘laugh at you. Tell them, five years from now, the story of the fight be- tween the League of the San Joaquin and the railroad and it will not be believed. What! a pitched battle between farmer and railroad, a battle that cost the lives of seven men? lmpossible, it could not have happened. Your story is fiction—is exaggerated. *“Yet it Is Lexington—God help us, God nlightén us, God rouse us from our leth- argy—it is Lexington; farmers with | in their hands fighting for Liberty. Is our State of California the only one that has its ancient and hereditary foe? Are thers no other trusts between the oceans than this of the Pacific and Southwestern Rail- road?. Ask yourselves, you of the Middle West, ask yourselves, you of the North; ask yourselves, you of the East: ask your- selves, you of the South—ask yourselves, every citizen of every State from Maine to Mexico, from the Dakotas to the Caro- linas, have you not' the monster in your boundaries? If it is not a trust of trams- portation it is only another head of th same. Hydra. Is not our death struggle typical? Is it not one of many, is it not symbolical of the great and terrible con flict that Is’ going on everywhere in the United States? Ah, you people, blind, bound, tricked, betrayed, can you not see’ it? Can you not see how the monsters bave plundered your treasures and hold- ing them in the grip of their iron claws, dole them out to you only at the price of your blood, at the price of the lives of your wives and your little children? You give your babies to Moloch for the loaf of bread you have kneaded yourselves. You offer your starved wives to Juggernaut for the iron nall you have yourselves compounded."” ~He "svent, the night over his journal, writing down such thoughts as these or vflunx the floor from wall to wall, or, seized at times with unreasoning horror and bliad rage, flinging himself face downward upon his bed, vowing with in- articulate cries that neither S. Behrman nor Sheigrim should ever live to consum- te their triumph. rning came and with it the daily pa- pers and news. Presley did not even lance at the Mercury. Bonneville pub- lished two other daily journals that pro- fessed to voice the will and reflect the tempe: os the people and these he read erly. e"&lamn; :'nl yet zllrv,oJaanht.Mn wers cl ces ol s recovei k.n’— .E.fi‘l three hundred of its members had gathered at Bonneville over night and ‘were patrolling the streets and, still re- solved to keep the peace, fnrllnl the rallroad shops and urt! e, t‘l:e ur serve law and ofier, had issued citizens to pre- an i tion or by bringing the matter be- fore the Gi . But the Grand Jury was not at that ti in session, and it the marshal's office to pay for the sum- mioning of jurors or the serving of pro- g. Behrman and Ruggles in inter- s stated that the railroad withdrew ent from the fight; the matter now, a to thefi. :d“ b:.t"o‘s: the “and _the t vern- Al T ‘Wh The cently forbade the use of troops purposes; the whole matter of the —u‘ wcb?'l:g in statu qu‘f » "But to Presley’s mind the