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Southern Pacific Company
Publishers
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INDEX TO VOLUME XXVIII
PAGE
Affable Man, The. Verse William Benet 494
Angels in Overalls — Los Angeles Walter V. Woehlke 261
April. Verse 426
Archery in the West, The Revival of Mrs. W. H. Wills 761
At Eastertide. Verse Jeannette Campbell 478
Auto Prairie Schooner, Log of an Victor Eubank 188
Away Down East. Verse Corinne Rockwell Swain 370
Ballade of the Golden Poppy. Verse Marion Cummings Stanley 471
Boulevards Built by "Honor Men" Dennis H. Stovall 496
Breath of Chinook, The — Portland Samuel M. Evans 523
Campfire, The. Verse Margaret Adelaide Wilson 728
Captain of His Soul. Story Edmund Mitchell
Book I, Chapter ix, to Book H, Chapter ii 81
Book II, Chapters iii to viii 209
Book II, Chapters ix to xii 338
Book III, Chapters i to iv 447
Book III, Chapters v to viii 579
Book III, Chapters ix to xi 729
Captain Scraggs, Filibuster. Story Peter B. Kyne 427
Cedars of Lebanon for California Prof. Granville F. Foster 627
Charm of Coronado, The Bertha H. Smith 362
China — The Chung Hwa Republic Walter Bertin Clausen 1 57
Cocoanuts, Uncle Sam's Philippines William Atherton Du Puy 412
Contentment. Verse 626
Coronado, The Charm of Bertha H. Smith 362
Crater Lake in Midwinter Harry H. Hicks 299
Desert's Romance, The. Verse J. M . Goulding 417
Devil Ship, The. Story Peter B. Kyne 533
Eating and Sleeping the Stranger Rufus Steele loi
El Camino Real, Fountain for 765
Fairies for Telegraph Hill. Story Seumas McManus 97
Flock by Powder River, The. Verse Samuel Edgerlon 361
Fountain for El Camino Real, A 765
Fresh-Air Cure for Criminals. Story Samuel M. Evans 711
Ghost of the Almaden, The. Story Stella Wynne Herron 49
Gile's Reincarnation Agency John Fleming Wilson
Record I. The Suicide Formula 315
Record II. The Case of Mary Warner 419
Record III. Mona Reardon's Second Chance 563
Record IV. Mr. Gile Interposes 671
Glaciers and Gasoline; Mt. Rainier Park , 41
Golden Rule Prison, The Samuel M. Evans 173
Great Soul, The. Verse .Mary Page Greenleaf 570
Green Pea Pirates, The. Story Peter B. Kyne 145
Growing Seeds for the World's Needs Mabel H. Wharton 367
Hagar's Son. Story LeJioy Armstrong 273
Hello, China! H, A, Speh 632
Hidden Spirit, The. Verse Frank E. Hill 332
High Tide, Warm Noon. Verse Shaemas O'Sheel 70a
Hb Heritage. Verse Henry Walker Noyes 758
Imperial Valley — The Land of Before-and- After Walter V. Woehlke 391
Independence, The — Patriotism and the Junk Pile William B. Palmer 498
Ishi, the Lonely Louis J. Stellmann 107
Japan and the United States. Just Fishing, That's All
Kings of the Golden Rivei Kitty. Story
-Sacramen
David Starr Jordan 59 A. H. Smith 759
..Samuel M. Evans 131
. .Gerard Maclellan 551
PAOB
Land of Before-and-Aftei — Imperial Valley Walter V, Woehlke 391
Little Stories of the West
By Way of a Gamble Emma Lee Walton 605
Chong Diana Slryver 608
Livermore, the Romance of Stanley Stanton 369
Log of an Auto Prairie Schooner Victor Eubank 188
Los Angeles — Angels in Overalls Walter V. Woehlke 261
Love on Demand. Story John Fleming Wilson 181
Lure of California, The Percy F. Montgomery 761
Maytime is Playtime. Verse Laura Adams Armer 618
Merry Wives of Tehuantepec Herman Whitaker
The Cure 163
Prisoner of Love 401
Mischief-Makers of Lake Harold James 501
Mission Roses. Verse Jessie Davies Willdy 239
Missions, Motoring Among the Eleanor GateSy 305, 438, 703
Motorist and the Mountain, The Randall R. Howard 571
Motor Road, The. Verse D. B. Bary 721
Mountain Memory, A. Verse Haven Charles Hurst 577
My Garden. Verse Eleanor Vore Sickler 765
Neighborhood of the World, The Frederick J. V. Skiff 619
Nest, The. Verse Julia Boynton Green 543
Nevkr Mexico, the New State L. Bradford Prince, LL. D, 683
1915 Exposition and Education, The John Brisben Walker 751
1915 Skyscraper, The Louis Levy 279
Officer of the Day. Story Hugh Johnson 17
Our Lady of Welcome. Verse S. J. Alexander 32
Panama-California Exposition
Administration Building, The Winfield Hogaboom 492
Palace of Lath, A A. D. Robinson 283
Panama Canal — The Water Way of Wonder
Thomas Grant Springer and Fleta Campbell Springer 544
Panama Canal — When Opened Congressman Joseph R. Knowland 94
Panama-Pacific International Exposition
Panama-Pacific Plan, The Willis Polk 487
Neighborhood of the World, The Frederick J. V. Skiff 619
1915 Exposition and Education, The John Brisben Walker 751
1915 Skyscraper, The Louis Levy 279
San Francisco and the Exposition Charles C. Moore 196
San Francisco Knows How Charles C. Moore 3
Patch of Purple Twilight, A. Story Pcler B. Kyne 285
Patriotism and the Junk Pile— The Independence William B. Palmer 498
Peace of the Pines. Verse Mary Gordon Holway 562
Peter Pan. Verse - Isabel Ormiston 298
Philippines, Uncle Sam's Cocoanuts William Atherton Du Puy 412
Pigs in Pokes. Story Peter B. Kyne 21
Portland Song. Verse 632
Portland — The Breath of Chinook Samuel M. Evans 523
Present, The. Verse Ella M. Sexton 100
Prison, The Golden Rule Samuel M. Evans 173
Re\ival of Archer>' in the West Mrs. W. H. WUls 761
Rival Attractions. \*erse The Traveler 629
Romance of Li\^rmore, The Stanley Stanton 369
Sacramento Valley — Kings of the Golden River Samuel M. Evans 131
San Francisco and the Exfx>sition Charles C. Moore 196
San Francisco Hotels — Eating and Sleeping the Stranger Rufus Steele loi
San Francisco Kno^-s How Charles C. Moore 3
San Francisco, Tour of the World in 33
Say, Charlie ! Verse Joaquin Miller 486
Setting, The. Verse Thomas Grant Springer i»
Song of June, A. Verse Lillian Ferguson "
Sorrowful Stranger, The. Story Edward Salisbury Field
Stars in the West , - 01, 33.^ aio ^
..D. B. SUn/all 371
Fotier Buchanan 471
ienius H. Stavall 764
.EUa M. Seiaim 171
33
Uncle Sam's Cocouiuts, Philippines WiUiam Atturton Dm Puy 41)
Vacation John Muir 655
Vacation Land. Views of 656
Voice of the Wolf, The. Verae Rdhert V. Carr 610
Water Way of Wonder, The Thomas Cranl Springrr and Flrta CamfbeU Springer 544
What Hany Has to Say. Vtrae EJla .«. Sexton 760
When the Canal is Opened Congressman Joseph R. Kmmland 94
Wlute Sm Omhards, The A, Phanne 6oj
Wild Gardens in Cities -l/or* R. Danitls 365
Western PeiMnalities.
The Man Who— Charles C. Moore Samuel M. Evans 63
The Exposition Mayoi — James Rolph, Jr Frances A. Grog 68
A Fighter for Pure Food— M re. Overlon G. Ellis Alfred Jeffreys 70
A Philosopher at Large— C. E. S. Wood Frances A. Groff jj*
A Man and His Mission— Frank Augustus Miller Da\-id Starr Jordan IJ4
A Coonrte Worker in Visions— Darid Charles Collier Winfidd Hogahoom 356
A Worshiper of Climate— Frank Wigpns WaUer V. Woektke 35g
Partners in Bu^ncss and Roniance — Mr, and Mrs. E. P. Spaulding Frances A. Groff 461
The Aladdin of the Aqueduct — William Mulholland Burt A . Heinly 465
A Cotton Empress— Mrs. S. F. Wiles Bertha H. Smith 467
The Man Who Is Easlem Oregon— William Hanley C. E. S. Wood 594
TheOregonian Himself- H. L. Pillock C. H. Chapman 595
A Queen of Clubs— Mrs. Lorell White Frances A . Groff 597
A Maker of New China— Ng Poon Chew At. B. Levick 599
San Francisco's Mermaid — Dorothy Alden Becker L. R. Herren 713
An Educational Idealist— William Truf ant Foster Frances A. Groff 716
Year in a Weslem Bungalow, A A. Janes Budgelte 630
PORTRAITS
Adams, Maude. 750
Baker, Ray T 175
Batriscale, Bessie 73
Becker, Dorothy Alden 7Jj, 715
Bergere, lion 206
Betesford, Edmond 614
Carter, Mrs. Leslie. 105
Cawtbom, Joseph 337
Chapine 485
Ctrilier, David Charles 357
Cunningham, Cecil 479
Dallas, Gertrude 74
Duolap, Adeline 48a
Edwaides, Waller 333
Ellis, Mrs. Overton G 71
EvertcHi, Paul 75
Ferguason, Paul 181
Foster, William Tnifant 717
*" ing Chi You 158
^■ul" 334
irl. Lulu 33S
Hajos, Mizzi 743
Hardy, Sam B 615
Hanley. William 593
Helena. Edith 613
Hllliaid, Robert 79
Huff, Forrest 485
Janis, Elsie 33 6, 337
Jones, Fielder A 603
Kane, Gail 611
Kelleraiann. Annette 484
Kubelik, Jan 304
Langford, Helen 744
Larrimore, Francine 615
I-eon, Henri 76
Miller, Frank Augustus 837
Miller, R, B 256
Moore, Charles C 65
Mulholland, William 466
Ng Poon Chew 601
Nybioc, Margaret 614
Partington, Phyllis 617
Pellon, H. L . . 181
Piatt, Aurora. . . 749
Pitlock, H. L 59*
Purcell, Charles *"'
PORTRAITS — Continued
PAGE
Reddy, J. F 497
Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm 201
Rolph, Jr., James 69
Romer, V^iolet 203, 745
Satyr and Nymphs in "The Pink Lady" 481
Scott, Elsie 616
Scott, Ivy 77
Skiff, F. J. V 619
Skirvin, Marguerite 746
Spaulding, Mr. and Mrs. E. P 462, 463
Stoddard, Charles Warren 486
Stuart, Ralph 202
Sullivan, Billy 604
Sun Yet Sen 157
Tannehill, Myrtle 202
PAGE
Tetrazzini 611
Thorpe, Ruth 480
Tinker, Joe 604
Vaughn, Evelyn 483
Von Brunner, Beatrice 747
Ware, Helen 748
White, Mrs. Lovell 599
Wiggins, Frank 360
Wiles, Mrs. S. F 469
Wong Hing 1 59
Wong Ching Wei 1 60
Wood, Charles Erskine Scott 233
Young, Harr)' E 480
Armer, Laura Adams.
ILLUSTRATORS 618
Bohnen, .\. L 48
Boncstell, Jr., C. K 4
Borough, Randal, Reverse of Frontispiece,
Februarv; May and June Covers. Bull, W. li 12, 161
Frontispiece and Reverse of Frontispiece,
June.
Cahill, J. A February' Cover
163, 181, 315, 401, 419, 533, 563, 671, 710 Childe Harold 112, 372, 502, 634, 766
Dixon, Maynard April Cover
80, 209, 338, 447, 578, 729
Francis, Walter 8, 16
Grant, Charles H., Frontispiece, January.
Hexom, Philip 417
Jack, F. C 551, 696
Jacoby, J. Belle 41
Keith, Warren January Cover
Keith, William, Reverse of Frontispiece, January
Macky, Spencer 472
Sawyer, E 500
Stoops, Herlxjrt 97
Terry, J. C 240, 764
Van V^alkenburgh, Peter
73» 201, 334, 479, 482,483
Wallace, G rant
21, 145, 285, 427, 494, 605, 608, 626 Wilke, William
33, 73, 201, 33,^, 479, 611, 743
Yardley, Ralph March Cover
COVER DESIGNS
The Red lantern Warren Keith Tanuar\\ 1912
"Here She Comes to Upset the Town" J. A. Cahill February^ 1912
A Girl of the Golden West Ralph Yardley March, 1912
"O Wide Free Western Land" Maynard Dixon April, 1912
Queen of Roses Randal Borough May, 191 2
A Summer Surf-Boarder Randal Borough June, 191 2
AUTOMOBILE AND GOOD ROADS SECTION See Back Advertising Section January, February, March, April, May, June, 1912
SPECIAL PHOTOGRAPHS
Christmas Eve in San Francisco 200
Glaciers and Gasoline 41
Memorial Tower, Panama- Pacific International Exposition 197
Outdoor Christmas Tree in California iii
Tour of the W'orld in San Francisco 7^1^
Views of Vacation Land 655
DEVELOPMENT SECTION
PAGE
Alameda, the City of Homes Leigh H. Irvine 1 13
Bayocean C. E. Fisher 641
Carlton — In Western Oregon W. F. G. Thacher 121
Chance for Everybody, A — West Stayton, Oregon J. H. Hartog 639
Corvallis — A Mighty Good Place to Live C. E. Fisher 647
Del Mai — By the Sea 376
Deming and the Mimbres Valley G'. von Vieregg 509
Development Notes 515, 648, 777
Dixon: A Town that Believes in Itself Rudolph Lee 775
Girdling the Globe With Apples 117
Giant Natoraas Reclamation Project, The 251
Half a Mile of Motor Cars 513
Homes for the Homeseekers John Scott Mills 380
Imperial, the Valley of Cotton, Cantaloupes and Contentment G. von Vieregg 507
Kem — A County of Wonders M . B. Levick 503
Kelso— On the Cowlitz River \V . F. G. Thacher 645
Lebanon, Land of Opportunity C. E. Fisher 386
Long Beach — "The Queen of the Pacific" 771
Missionary to the Oregon Farmers, A William Woodhead 255
Montpelier and Bear Lake County, Idaho W . F. G. Thacher 123
Nature's Golden Gift to Man — Sutherlin, Oregon C. Peebles Blanton 125
Ontario, the City that Charms David H. Walker, Jr. 253
Potential Wealth of Morrow County, The W. F. G. Thacher 643
Rich Resources of Siskiyou County, The M. B. Levick 635
Sacramento Count)' — "The Heart of California" M. B. Leinck 247
Santa Monica: The City of Many Sides G. von Vieregg 773
Saving the World's Most Valuable Water Walter Willard 373
Secrets of Sutter's Prosperity M . B. Leinck 511
Sonoma — The County of Fertile Valleys M . B. Levick 767
Tacoma, the City of a Million Horsei)ower W . F. G. Thacher 241
Tucson, Old and New M . B. Leinck 385
Where the Homebuilder Can Find His Ideal Addison Bennett 128
Yamhill, Oregon W. F. G. Thacher 119
You Will Want Your Orchard to Look Like Ours C. E. Fisher 649
'"''San F
rancisco Jvno^vs
K
H
O^V'!
^^
An Answer to the Worla s Question: *'''Can 1 his Exposition Be Different?'^
By Charles C. Moore
President of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition
Ground was broken by President Taft at San Francisco ^ October 14, 191 1, in prepa- ration for the Panama-Pacific International Exposition during the year 191 5. Engineers and architects are now busy , following up the ceremonial act of the Nation's Chief Executive with actual creative work in building the great fair that is to celebrate the Nation* s mighty achievement of the Panama Canal. Meanwhile the Directors of the Exposition Company^ upon whom rests the responsibility of a celebration for which the entire community of Cali- fornia considers itself responsible to the Nation, have been organized into practical working sections to manage the infinite details of the vast undertaking. At the very beginning of the work there is a definite plan along which the energies of the big organization are directed. No one man knows this plan as definitely and as vividly as the man whom the Directors chose to be President of the Exposition. Mr. Moore has made his first written statement of this plan for Sunset Magazine. If there should be in any quarter a doubt that the Exposition of igi$ can be made different from the world's fairs which Jiave preceded it, the following authoritcUive article will surely set all such doubt at rest:
ON the afternoon that it became k known without question that I the nation^s celebration of the f completion of its great canal would be held at San Fran- cisco, a man in New York shook hands cor- dially with a delighted visitor from San Francisco.
"Let me congratulate you" he said warmly. "You people of the West put up a splendid campaign for recognition in this Exposition matter and you deserve success." The Califomian beamed with pleasure. "It will be the biggest fair ever" he replied. "Nothing like it before."
The New Yorker smiled. "I hope that may be so" he said. "Frankly, the country is a bit weary of expositions. And you are a long way from home. If you expect to get the people to go out there you must give us aometbin^ new. I do not wish to throw cdd watey m thb koiur of your triumph, but hoats&ff do jm Aielk jm can do any- thing different to what has been done?"
I do not know just what the Califomian answered to this inquiry. I have no doubt he replied promptly that the Fair would meet every requirement that the New Yorker might fix. That is the high-hearted, con- fident way that the West answers every question. Very likely he had no very defi- nite idea how his assertion could be made good, but he answered from the faith that was in him. Perhaps the greatest responsi- bility resting upon the shoulders of the Ex- position directors is to justify that faith, to make good that promise.
Today, something less than a year later, the details of the answer to the world's question are taking form. The Panama- Pacific International Exposition is to be "different"; no doubt about that. In the first place, the motive of the celebration is essentially different. Philadelphia, Chicago, St. Louis, Paris, London, all the great fairs of history have signalized anniversaries; they have been retrospective, gazing badk along the track of time and recordmg the
"San Francisco Knows How !"
progress of the world since some great dis- covery, some great act of a people. What they have celebrated is past. The Exposi- tion at San Francisco rises directly from the great event itself and looks forward into the new era which that event initiates. Some rhapsodist has spoken of the completion of the Canal as the wedding of two oceans. The figure is a useful one. The great world's fairs preceding ours have been anniversary celebrations; complacent occa- sions, certainly, giving cause for congratula- tions, for reunion, for pledges for the future. Ours is a nuptial feast, if you please: a joy- ous send-ofiF, the auspicious completion of preliminaries and the beginning of a new life, united, co-operative, productive; a glad bridal celebration, at the home of the bride.
There will be no doubt about its being a feast. At the very threshold of the door the signs of festivity will greet the honored guest. It will not be necessary to go into an inner room of the house to find the decora- tions. In other cities, the visitor has found a community pursuing the even tenor of its way, save that in a dedicated district the table has been set for its guests; there has been a door within a door, or a gate within the gate, beyond which one found the festi- val. San Francisco has discarded this time- honored arrangement. Her whole house will be open, decorated, lighted, swept and made ready. The city is the site.
At the foot of Market street, where the largest ferry system in the world pours out its flood of passengers, and where a railroad terminal is also contemplated, the gate of the Exposition city will open to its guests. Market street, the main thoroughfare, is one hundred and twenty feet wide. For a dis- tance of two miles this great artery, through which flows the blood of metropolitan busi- ness, will be made an avenue of triumph. We hope to see it a shining white colonnade, festooned with garlands, bright with flaunt- ing carnival banners, gleaming with lights. At intervals, where they will best serve, bridges will span the human tide, adding to the beauty of the passageway and serving at the same time to carry people easily across the teeming street. This camino real^ for it will be indeed a royal road, runs between the great business buildings of our rebuilt city. This grand caf^on has walls which are the latest thing in business architecture; it is thronged with modem Caucasian life. Into treat, upon occasion, will be poured a
flood from another civilization, a riot of bar- baric color, paling the ineffectual fires of even thecarnivalbuntingwith which we shall make bright our colonnade. In this sea of oriental splendor will swim the great Chinese dragon, perhaps the huge serpent that now hides in the depths of Chinatown, more likely a greater monster from the mysterious home- land across the Pacific. No such pageants have ever moved through occidental streets as will flash in the sunlight of the city that faces the Far East. And when we consider the rapidity with which the Orient is moving toward western ways, when we have to hunt today in Chinatown for that disappearing article, the queue, it may well be that before another international exposition shall be held such a feature may be less easily ac- complished. And mark you, this is no show in a "concession," no moving of a caravan down the streets of a "midway"; it is a mighty barbaric procession through the streets of a metropolis. This is one of the ways in which the city is the site.
In the plans made by D. H. Bumham, directing architect of the Columbian Expo- sition at Chicago, for the adornment of San Francisco, to the execution of which the Exposition has given a strong impulse, the junction of Van Ness avenue with Market street is made the civic center. At this point important buildings of the Exposition will be placed ; such structures, probably, as the Auditorium and Convention Hall, the State Building, perhaps the Art Gallery, in the natural heart of the city, approached by magnificent avenues wearing Exposition full dress. From the central point, Van Ness avenue, one hundred and twenty-five feet in width, sweeps to the north for more than two and one-third miles to Fort Mason, a military post jutting into the blue bay of St. Francis. Four and one-quarter miles as the crow flies to the west of this point of land lies another and a greater promontory, the Presidio of San Francisco, crowned with the govern- ment's big guns of war. This promontor}' reaches to the north and approaches within a mile of the flowing skirts of Mount Tamal- pais. Between flows a shining strait, turned at sunset to a gateway of gold. It marks the change from the heaving waters of the Pacific to the quiet surface of the land- locked bay.
Between these two government posts, and adjoining the Golden Gate, lies the district known as Harbor View, a level stretch of
Charles C. Moore
about four hundred acres, backed on the south by gently sloping hills covered with one of the best residential sections of the city. This level area, with the two hundred additional acres in the Presidio, for the use of which the government will give per- mission to the Exposition company, will give a total of six hundred acres at Harbor View. Before the Harbor View district to the north stretches the bay, widening swiftly from the Gate, with Mount Tamalpais rising two thousand five hundred feet from the water. This is the most beautiful area of our famous harbor and here the natural beauty of the scene will be heightened by a white company of the navies of the world, an assemblage of war vessels unequaled in history. The flag of every nation that has a navy will flutter in the sea-breeze that sweeps through the Gate, the water between the fighting monsters will be gay with all the smaller craft of peace, white sails and puffing motors and the sharp brown wings of the Neapolitan fisher-boats. This is a part of the Exposition site; this is in the **fair grounds" on the edge of the most thickly settled portions of the city and within walk- ing distance of the business centers. Is it too much to call this ''different"?
The Exposition buildings at this part of the city will not lessen the novelty of the picture. Here will be great and imposing structures housing exhibits that will record the progress of the past and point the way to the future. The palaces of liberal arts, of education, and those housing machinery and other heavy exhibits that may readily be unloaded from ocean vessels, will be among the buildings at Harbor View. At this date, when the best architectural talent of the country is engaged upon the plans for the Exposition, it is not fitting for me to speak more definitely of these plans than the announcements of the architects would war- rant. But of this much be assured: there will be brilliance in that setting by the blue bay that has not been equaled elsewhere, a warmth of color, a radiance drawn from the glorious color guide of the sunset on the adjacent ocean. Beyond that ocean lies the bright-hued Orient, the painted scenery of the world's theater of the future. So in the brilliance of the scene at Harbor View there will be more than the gaiety of carnival, a deeper significance than the garish colors of pleasure. On a broader plan, moreover, the arrangement of buildings here will con-
form to a big idea, a plan that will make memorable the architectural treatment of this Exposition, the exercise of an art that reaches through the eye to the mind behind it.
Because of its proximity to the centers of the city life this part of the Fair site proper is really an extension of the city's amuse- ment district. Here will be set up all of the delights that lure the pleasure-loving, which made the name of the Midway almost s)m- onymous with the name of the Chicago exposition. Here will be, for the most part, the * 'night-life" of the Fair, the after- work land of enchantment. One can imagine what a scene this will present from the hills of the city, when the millions of lights are glittering, when banners flutter in their radiance like tongues of colored flame, when a babel of the music of all lands surges up from the carnival city. There will be a great yacht harbor here, an inlet from the bay set into the grouped buildings; the water will be alive with pleasure boats, the search-lights from the war vessels will flash through the sparkling constellations like a convention of comets among the stars.
In my vision of the Exposition, it seems but natural that the displays of the National Government upon the Presidio, its most beautiful and no doubt most important military reservation, should prove the most complete in scope and character of any exhibits that will be made.
Since the Spanish-American war the great- est public interest in this country has been widely created in the amazing efficiency of the various branches of the government serv- ice. Officers of the United States Army have built the Panama Canal, one of the most difficult engineering tasks in history, and one that had proved a trial to the skilled engineers from civil life who had been en- gaged upon the work. In the Philippines and Cuba the medical branch of the army has stamped out yellow fever, solved the problem of sanitation, made life safe for the white man in the tropics and less perilous for the native people. In Alaska, Guam, Porto Rico, the soldier has been the doctor, the school-teacher and the guardian. The work of the government in the protection and development of the fisheries, in the extension and improvement of the lighthouse service, the charting of dangerous coasts, all these activities bear an intimate relation to the maritime event which will be celebrated
lO
((
San Francisco Knows How !"
by the Exposition. The Presidio im- mediately adjoining the Harbor View and Lincoln Park Exposition sites is easily acces- sible by land, and on the other hand it has upon one side the Pacific ocean and on the other the bay of San Francisco. Visitors will be able to travel from point to point in the Presidio upon a marine boulevard, or upon a trackless trolley or intermural rail- road. This great military reservation will afford our government its first opportunity to give a demonstration of its public service work upon its own territory. The efficiency of the lighthouse service, the hospital ships, the great government transports, the light ships, the whistling buoy, the submarine boat, the fisheries steamers, all these may be seen at the Presidio and its waters, equipped as for actual service. I believe that the Exposition will see all these branches of the public service at their best.
The transport docks, the government warehouses, the facilities for handling mili- tary supplies bound for our oversea posses- sions will also be a part of the government's exhibit. Because the exhibit will be held at one of our chief military posts, facing the Orient and whatever may come from there in the years to be, it will be different to any government display made at any previous exposition. Instead of being housed in a great building, however impressive, the arms of war and the accessories of warfare will be shown exactly as they would appear in action. So too, the branches of the public service will illustrate their method of operation, for it will be a function of the Exposition to show not only the finished product but the process of production. This was the French idea, and the French told the story of development in their last exposition in processes rather than products; they even went so far as to attempt to decline to receive exhibits where the finished product could not also be made upon the exposition grounds. In many ways our Exposition will show not only things themselves, but their manufacture and their application to life. The government's ex- hibit will be notable in this regard and in its entirety will fully uphold the prestige of our nation. Incidentally the Presidio will be improved and made ready for the opportu- nity which the Exposition will afford. The purpose of the government display will be not only to interest but to educate.
In the Panama-Pacific International Ex- Hion the utmost attention will be given to
the liberal arts, manufactures, to the uplift of education and educational methods, to the mechanical advance of the world, and to other serious features as distinguished from those whose purpose is amusement or pass- ing entertainment. Harbor View and the Presidio will virtually constitute a single section of the Exposition. Other sections of the Exposition will be located in two of the city's parks, and on a strip of land connect- ing the two. Lincoln Park is a new area, devoted to park use, with which the public is not familiar. It covers the crest of the highest portion of San Francisco above the wedge-shaped stretch of water which is known as the Golden Gate. Between this park and the Presidio lies a great crescent of beach and cliff, already being edged with homes. From here one looks eastward back through the blunted point of the wedge into the harbor, or westward out across the shimmering Pacific. It is one of the great marine views of the world. Upon this com- manding eminence shall be erected some memorial tower, statue or building, as care- ful thought may decide.
Southward from Lincoln Park a strip of land has been placed at the disposal of the Exposition, running for six blocks between Lincoln and Golden Gate parks. This strip may be used as the needs of the Exposition shall require; a maximum width of fifteen blocks is available. On this strip of land, connecting two parks with a panhandle, so called — a boulevard, tree-shaded and flower- bordered — the foreign nations may place their buildings, if they so desire, along an international avenue, the Street of the Flags of the World. The flexibility of this area, as well as its size, will enable it to be adjusted to extensive agricultural, horticultural and livestock exhibits, doubly significant in this western Exposition in a land to which the armies of development are to come through the Canal.
San Franciscans, as a rule, have little idea of the fame of Golden Gate Park. This miracle, created by enchantment out of wind-swept sand-dunes, enjoys a reputation among the great parks of the world. The park, as it stands today, forms a splendid adjunct to an exposition. Add to its beauty the erection of the permanent and therefore the finest buildings of the Fair; create from the present Chain of Lakes a miniature re- production of the Canal, a topographical map of the greatest educational value;
Charles C. Moore
enlarge the present lovely Japanese tea- garden, memento of the Midwinter Fair, until few gardens in Tokio or Kioto shall excel it, and add the spice of rivalry by es- tablishing near by a mandarin's garden, secret between massive walls, containing pavilions of glass with tilted eaves, pond of delicate water chestnut and stately lotus, floating ornate houseboats; place not far off, among hills covered with pines, an Igorot village; above all, complete the Stadium so that it becomes the finest structure of its kind in the world, a coliseum seatingseventy- five thousand people; these are plans already being formulated for the intelligent use of our beautiful park. All the Oriental exhibits will be especially complete and lavish, for I feel sure that the occasion will be one that is inviting the attention and interest of the oriental countries more than any like event in the history of the Occident. Of all the regions of the Orient, the displays of none will have such an especial interest to the American people as those from the Philip- pines, where flies the Stars -and -Stripes. The advance of the Philippines in the past few years has been marvelous, particularly since the passage of the law giving partial free trade with the United States. The beneficial results of the American administration of the islands are being felt to a greater degree than immediately following the .American occu- pation. Marvelous displays by the Bureau of Insular Affairs, by the merchants and civic bodies of the islands, and through the interest of the Philippine Assembly are assured. The priceless hardwood of the islands, the advance in agriculture, the rich opportunities of these fertile tropics, the schools, the scenic attractions, the advan- tages Manila presents as a tourist resort, these are of the features which the Philip- pines will emphasize. Wonderful Philip- pine gardens will, it is anticipated, be shown with those of China, Japan and Hawaii. With the adornment of tropical oriental gardens the natural beauty of Golden Gate Park will be enhanced. The entrance to the park is not far from the civic center; the resident section of the city, steadily increasing, already borders much of the park area. Thus, you will please observe, the city continues lo be the site.
Through this City of the Exposition a new avenue is to built, leading from one center of the Exposition to another. I make bold to say that in no exposition which the world
has seen has there been such an avenue. This is a street running beside one of the few great harbors of the world and beside the world's greatest ocean as well; a boulevard connecting three great military posts and two beautiful municipal parks; a roadway that lies past elegant homes, past busy ship- ping, under palms and pines, past great engines of war guarding the approach to a nation, by cliff and beach and lawn and forest, until it finds itself again in the city's heart where it began, a magnificent serpent of a roadway, biting its own tail. The Bay and Ocean Drive, as this boulevard might well be named for the sake of the lasting virtues of a simple descriptive name, may be considered to begin at (he civic center. Thence it leads over Van Ness avenue, al- ready described, to the government reser- vation at Fort Mason, thence along the bay through the Harbor View section of the Fair to the Presidio. Here it merges with the government road, wisely built to conform with it for the sake of a useful military road between posts. Now it sweepsalong the bay to Fort Point, where Fort VVinfield Scott sets its feet into the tides of the gate. From here past the batteries that face the Pacific, along cliff and beach and cliff again to Lincoln Park and the memorial observatory; thence along the panhandle, already described, to Golden Gate Park, with perhaps a spur to allow direct access to the Cliff House and the ocean beach; then through the verdant windings of the park, either out to the beach and the Great Highway that borders the ocean, or back through the park and city to the civic center again, "to the point of beginning." as the surveyors say. In ad- dition to this fine program of roadway there will be a spur from Fort Mason eastward, along the waterfront to the foot of Market street, the entrance to the Exposition City. Above this portion of the route rises Tele- graph Hill, rich in interest for the historically minded and for the present-day mind as well, for it is proposed to erect on this eminence, appropriately to the uses to which it was put in the old days, a mammoth wireless teleg- raphy station, whose active use will make one of the most instructive of the Exposition features
Wh» -ill
part
14
"San Francisco Knows How!"
Years after the Panama-Pacific Inter- national Exposition shall have closed its gates the great boulevard will have become noted as one of the world's famed drives. Its attractiveness will have rendered its completion a long-to-be-remembered event. Only a great and common enthusiasm on be- half of the Exposition could have caused our government to co-operate in building such a boulevard. Only an event like our coming celebration would give to San Francisco a drive like the Michael Angelo of Florence, one of the great assets of Italy. Yet the boulevard is not alone our property: it will be an asset of the nation. Like the Yosemite and Yellowstone national parks it will be preserved for the benefit of those who travel far to see America's wonderland.
I trust that somewhere in this outline of our dream of the Panama-Pacific Exposi- tion may be found some answer to the question: '^Honestly, do you think you can do anything different from what has been done?"
Honestly, I think we can.
We are going to be different, also, because we are going to announce in advance a definite program of events that the world may have time to make up its mind as to when it will come to us. And we hope to give people the choice of twelve months, if we can do it. And why shouldn't we do it? Other expositions have tried to prolong themselves to justify the enormous initial expense, but winter has intervened, relent- less, and has said *'So far shalt thou go and no further." But winter does not talk like that to San Francisco; it is more respectful. So we may be different, again, from all other expositions. While the directors have not settled the term of duration of the Fair, there is a strong sentiment, in which I share, that this be a year-long Exposition, and there is absolutely no doubt that the term will be nine months at least. In Europe, when I had the pleasure to act as commis- sioner for our Portola Festival as a fore- runner of our big show, I said that our Exposition would be open for twelve months. Many people gasped in surprise at a climate that would make such a thing feasible. California's climate is recognized as her greatest asset and we are fortunate in being able to dedicate to the Exposition a climate that will permit our visitors from other nations to view America's jubilee at any on of the year without discomfort.
There is, moreover, a peculiar advantage in having an all-the-year Exposition in Cali- fornia, in that it will permit our guests to visit the Exposition at the time that suits their convenience best. The normal vaca- tion period of the average business man or employe is from April to October, yet many would prefer to Wsit California at another season. The greatest number of visitors to the state from the eastern part of the country come in winter, refugees from the cold. From Arizona, Nevada, Mexico and Texas they come in the summer, refu- gees from the heat.
Half a year before the opening day of the Exposition we will issue a program of events, which will permit the intending visitor to select what events he wishes to see and to arrange his trip at that date.
Our Exposition is bound to be ready on opening day, because it is going to open with a louder "bang" than any of its predecessors, and it is planned to open with a set event. Nothing less than the greatest international parade of battleships in the history of the world! Appropriately enough, the warships of the world will first assemble at Hampton Roads to be reviewed by the president of the United States; then, led by the Oregon, a San Francisco ship, whose historic cruise around the Horn during the Spanish war made the need of the Canal a vital issue, the vessels will proceed through the Canal to San Francisco. A bill to this effect intro- duced by Senator Swanson of West Virginia has already been passed upon favorably by Congress. From unofficial assurances re- ceived 1 am convinced we may safely state that from eighty to one hundred foreign ships of war will l)e assembled in San Fran- cisco harbor shortly after the opening of the Exposition. These vessels, together with those of the United States Navy, will go to make the greatest naval pageant ever witnessed.
The war fleet will meet at Hampton Roads probably about sixty days l)cfore it arrives in San Francisco bay. The leading nations of the world have already signified, in- formally, in advance of the government's invitation, their intention to have a number of their modern dreadnaughts participate, and the people of every nation transplanted to our cosmopolitan land will be eager that the homeland make a patriotic showing in that distinguished company. Every country that has a navy will participate. We expect
Charles C. Moore
I;,
that the fleets will pass through the Golden Gate two weeks after the Exposition opens, or very early in the year 1915. Because this really stupendous event is scheduled for the very opening it may be positively believed that San Francisco will be absolutely on time in opening the Exposition.
The mildness of the San Francisco winter will induce many of the foreign battleships to remain in our waters until spring. They could not be in better quarters. The royal yachts of the world will be invited here at the beginning of spring when our second big event, the international yacht races, motor- boat races, etc., will be held. With the war- ships still in harlKir and the pre^nce of the yachtsmen, imagine, if you please, the social gaiety that will be in full swing in the city, the brilliance of diplomatic and military functions, the official receptions to foreign representatives, augmented by the limitless hospitality showered upon them by foreign- born citizens. Following these events, at intervals of about sixty days throughout the year, will come the main events on our pro- gram, sustaining the activities of the Fair. With this magnificent beginning, visitors who come in the early stages of the Exposi- tion will go away satisfied. If they do not do so, if ours is not the "best ever" to them, we shall have failed.
The program of events will continue with great meets of aviators; what the program of aviation will bring us by 1915 we can only guess from what is going on today. By that time the demonstration of the hydroplanes should be a great feature. There will be demonstrations of the influence, or possible influence, of aviation upon commercial and military affairs, in fact a demonstration of the relation of commercialized science to the trades. Warships and forts will be clustered near the aviation grounds and this will give an unusual chance for mimic contests be- tween the bulldogs of the earth and sea and the wasps of the air. Then will come the automobile meets, 1. It is y from around is traclc of the "Iready
terested in these sports and it is my dream that they will arouse such an interest on the part of the people in foreign countries that these events may mark milestones in the progress of the national games. In the great Stadium the athletes of the world will com- pete for supremacy.
Then, in the concluding days of the Fair will come the pageants throughout the city, when history will take form and color on our streets, when the padres shall walk again in the shadow of Dolores, and the roaring days of '49 come back again to the city by the gate. Then the city that has been in itself the site of a great festival will abandon itself altogether to the spirit of la Fiesla and dose in glory an Exposition that has warranted its being held, because it was "different."
The world looks to San Francisco to pro- duce an Exposition which shall fulfil the meaning of the word Exposition to the greatest degree of the definite meaning it has grown to convey and yet prove individual and characteristic. We realize fully that if we do not have something different from those expositions that have preceded us, if we do not have something that is fully satis- fying to those who come to the Fair in Us first days, if we do not create a greater inter- est than has been awakened by other expo- sitions, then we shall have failed. There exists today a greater enthusiasm regarding this Exposition than has fostered any similar project; we have more funds and a more spectacular setting than has belonged to any exposition; if this Fair does not excel all others in beauty, effectiveness, novelty and interest, we shall have proved unworthy of the nation's trust.
For we of San Francisco and California are but trustees in this affair. I have shown that our Exposition is to be held, not in a fenced-off district of the city, but practically in the city as a whole. In reality, the dty is the fenced-off district, if you wil, in which the government is holding the Fair. It is the government's party, although we are paying for the supper and the music, and the deco- rations. And the party is an international one, because the Canal in whose honor it is held is the world's affair.
Because of its traditions of hospitality,
its record of accomplishment, its generous
breezy savoir faire, the world feels confident
hat. as Mr. Taft put it in his felicitous
"t the time of the ground-breaking
'air, "San Francisco knows ho* -"
Officer of the Day
A Story of Obedience to Discipline By Hugh Johnson
ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER FRANCIS
C<J^OC'S request was- a simple enough one. He stood in the door- way, fidgeting with his forage cap. Beyond his splendid shoulders I could see the exquisite blue of the bay, the shell white of the crescent beach with the sentinel palms at its horns standing out like cardboard scenery on a toy stage, the purplish green of the newly washed jungle beneath, and the evanescent mist of the China sea beyond. For it was the end of the rainy season, which comes as near saying ^ring as one can of Mallowan. A balmy breeze wafted up from the white breakers of the reef and — ^it was not hard to feel sym- pathy with Lennoc.
"Captain," he began hesitatingly, "I know you don't approve. Tve been with you ten years — I know exactly what you think. But I can't help it sir-r — I-yit'sgottobedone — "
From the comer of my eye, I saw nervous, bristling little Captain Clark straightening in his chair. His keen black eyes were already snapping truculently, under the overhanging gray of his brows. But Lennoc, his face suddenly crimson, went bravely on:
"I — I — ^want to get married."
The sentence brought the little man out of his chair with the slow effortless rise that a hand lifting at the back of his collar might have produced. In five words Lennoc had affronted the cardinal principle of the cap- tain's bachelor life and exposed to the worshiping old fellow his idol's feet of clay. Gark's jaw slackened in sheer amazement, then dosed like a trap.
"No," he snapped, for he was an excitable little man. "No — no — NO. You know better than to ask me. It's impertinence. Damme, it's insubordination. No, I tell you— don't stand there gaping like a fool. I say, no." He was boring into the open palm of his left hand with the closed fist of his right as though flattening every word as he uttered it. Lennoc turned to go, but the
captain called him back. He was calming a little, but earnestness replaced excitement.
"You've been with me ten years, Lennoc. You know better. Have I ever sanctioned marriage by a soldier? I thought you knew why — ^knew without being told. You think it's because I want all their attention — like the rest. No — no. It's not that. You have no right to ask a woman — no right. Think of your life, man — ^your life. Here today and gone tomorrow — no home on top of earth. And a woman must have a home. That's why God put her here. She's due your worshipful service and it's pledged elsewhere. You barter it twice and you pro- pose a fraud. I've seen it and you've seen it. For a fool's happiness — the glamour of brass buttons — ^the joy of thirty days, you ask her to share a lifetime of misery and pain. Look about you, man, at the sergeants' wives you know — hopeless drudges, joyless slaves — or shameless drabs. No, I tell you — no." He was half pleading with the big soldier but his own words brought back a militant ascendency.
"If you haven't the plain manhood to put this from you, I'll do it for you. You shall not. And, Lennoc — see here. If you do this thing without my knowledge — secretly, you pass from my category of decent men — a list you've always led. I'll drum you from the service. You'll go to the guardhouse and you'll end in Alcatraz. You know me, Lennoc. Don't you do it. There's nothing that will save you."
The world would be a cleaner place for a few more Captain Clarks — how much better it would be is only for Providence, I suppose, to say.
"Never had the time," he used to fume, when twitted on the subject of his bachelor- hood; "never had the time from my soldier duties to think of anything else." That this was not strictly true, everyone admitted. He was a SLitcheiier on the subject of soldier
i8
Officer of the Day
marriages and a Galahad otherwise. But if he erred, it was in opinion. He lived his creed. He was a crabbed snappy little man, and people who had known him in his youth said that he had not always been so. He had gone his way alone, serene in the ego- tistical confidence that he was right. He knew men, because knowledge of them was the basis of his profession, but from an enshrined memory of his mother he had come to look upon womanhood as an almost holy mystery, not to be profaned. The temporal tribulations of the people about him were always before him and these, he truly be- lieved, had proved his point. Very late he was given to see, in one vivid moment, when the veil to the heart of things spiritual was torn aside, that he was wrong — but that anticipates.
I can see poor Lennoc now — a tall, taci- turn, black Irishman, with the glint of the blue of Donegal bay in his eyes. We knew very little about him, save that if one read his name backward, there was a hint of a history, and that twice a year a crested letter, postmarked Dublin, came. To this, in ten years* service, he had vouchsafed not one word of addition.
He saluted his captain silently and turned away, and at that moment I knew, as surely as that I was standing there, that in the face of the certainty that Clark would perform to the letter all that he promised, Lennoc had not the faintest intention of obeying.
Like everything else about him, of his love affair we knew next to nothing. All this happened at the time of the first impor- tation of American teachers to the Philippines, and one day the weekly transport left on the beach at Mallowan an apologetic little lady whom the department of schools had lured from some quiet New Kngland town. She is very vividly centered in my memory; a slight willowy girl, with a great deal of dark- brown hair, skin a little too fine- veined and transparent, but of her features I seem to recall nothing but her eyes, and there is no way to tell of them without making the de- scription absurd. For they seemed to fill the whole of her face. They were not unusually large, but they had that quality — gray, not without humor, but wistful.
There was an element of whimsical pathos in the sight of her standing there on the beach, bulwarked by her baggage, but facing the whole of wicked, savage, tangled Mallo- wan alon^ and purposing to conquer it and
impress it for who knows how many gener- ations to come, by just herself.
The naked and half-dressed children of the town flocked down and waited at a safe distance, eying her with sullen suspicion. A group of ape-faced grinning young men formed between her and the \'illage, and stood smirking and evilly giggling. An old hag in filthy trade-print, snags of teeth black with betel-nut, skin withered foully, pushed forward, clucking inquiringly, pinched the girKs arm and picked at the pins in her hair.
Into this investigating circle strode Ser- geant Lennoc, scattering it to right and left, and his broad shoulders must have seemed to the frightened maestro the in- signia of all power. His was the first friendly face she saw in Mallowan and he gave her no opportunity to forget it. Even- ing after evening we saw them strolling down the packed sand of the beach, like sweethearts in an old picture. And were I to select, from the men I have known, the ideal lover, I would take this classic Irishman with the brow and eyes of Robert Emmet, for he was all passion and fire, all strength and tenderness, and as faithful as the day of doom.
No, I did not doubt that Lennoc had no thought of obeying his captain. But the days dragged into weeks and the upheaval I expected in "L" troop did not occur. The dry season came on and the green of the jungle was burned to a seared gray. The little streams at the roadsides all dried up, the dust-storms eddied down from the brown, hopeless hills, and everything of beaut V in Mallowan faded. The school term had ended, but the little maestra re- mained. Then for a whole week we did not once see her walking on the beach with Lennoc and I fancied that the suggestion of a frown between his eyes had deepened. I was at the point of asking him of her, but that very night officer's call sounded from the colonel's quarters and half an hour later the captain stalked into the orderly room. The moment I saw his face I knew that something very serious had happened.
Cholera had come to Mallowan. There were five cases in the troops and the village was rank with it.
I hope I may never have to serve through another such season. The military' had no function of control. The colonel drew a dead-line about the camp and posted senti-
Hugh Johnson
19
nels, with orders to fire at second halting. We were as completely isolated from the town as though the cafion of the Colorado lay between. Within our lines there was nothing to do but sit and wait. We knew very little about the disease then, and to our frightened imaginations (allayed not at all by the surgeon's lectures) death lurkied in everything we touched. The natives be- lieved it a curse from God, and from the barrack porch we could hear their wild propitiating chants pulsing through the whole night, and see the glow of their cere- monial fires and the funeral parties that went out hourly from the town.
Lennoc's room was next to mine and I knew that he was in agony of spirit. I could hear the sound of his restless feet pacing off the hours long past midnight. Some- times he would stand at the little hill back of the barracks, straining his eyes toward the lights of the town as though he thought his very intensive wishing might bridge the gap as a high-voltage spark snaps across ether. But not even a note could pass the sentries, and we had no inkling of all the anguish that he suffered.
I shall not forget the night that I woke from a doze in my chair to feel the touch of his hand on my shoulder. I do not know whether it was by some signal or the telep- athy that may attend such moments, but intdligence had come to him. The feverish anxiety was gone from his eyes; there re- mained a cool determination and a sort of triumphant strength and c^tainty that must shine in the faces of martyrs. He had reached some momentous decision, which was, I shortly knew, to barter every thing for one hour of his desire. The words came to my mouth in direct contradiction to my thought.
"She is ill?" I asked stupidly.
"Yes, Phelps," he said softly,* "she is ill. I am going to her, and God help the man that hinders me." He seemed to straighten a little as he said it and his chest to swell with power. "I want you to know beforehand, because I believe you understand — a little.'*
"I'll sec you safe beyond the line," 1 said, but I think he did not hear, for he had turned and was walking away.
There was no concealment in his move- ment. He went straight to the nearest sen- tinel, an awed recruit from our own troop, who awkwardly came to **Port Arms" when he shiuld have challenged "Halt."
"Medders," Lennoc asked with the air of an inspector general, "if I crossed that line, what would you do?"
"I — I — my orders is to shoot, sir" the sentry stammered.
"And you'd do that?— I'm sorry." Be- fore I had an idea what he intended, Len- noc's arm shot out and, accouterments clanking about him, the foolish recruit slumped unconscious to the ground.
Captain Clark was officer of the day, but where he had been standing, I do not know. His voice challenged now. It was dry and bitter.
"Sergeant," he said, "I warned you and you wouldn't heed. You see, it's ruined you." He meant that there is only one more serious offense for a soldier than assaulting a sentinel, and that is striking an officer.
The next second, Lennoc — guilty of both — ^was gone.
The pursuit lost possibly five minutes — no more. It had all happened so swiftly, yet so smoothly, that I was dazed between the sight of its simplicity and the slow realization of its tragedy. In what fire poor Lennoc's spirit had been, to allow him to do things of such awful moment, with so little hesitation, I could not think. Every- thing was awry and the fulminations I ex- pected from the captain did not come. His voice was icy and the muscles of his face, still crimson from the blow, seemed hard- ened like drawn steel. He asked where the maestra lived, and when I told him, he gave his instructions as though he were speaking of a rabid dog:
" — if he resists, fire — if he runs, fire- follow me.'*
The rains were coming. We could see the promise of them, in a dense pall of clouds, drawing up like a slow curtain across the east, but the night was hot — and breathless. The red, gibbous moon in the sky seemed a coal, and the clouds beneath it to glow from its heat. The dust in the road was ankle-deep, the scared leaves beneath our feet crackled like eggshells, and the jungle screamed its thirst in a mil- lion-throated insect chorus. Down through the gloom of over-arching bamboo hedges we went, and the signs of :he pestilence were about us everywhere. Here and there a little light gleamed in the under- growth, where the brown people were fearfully attending their sick or stoically watching their dead. But we passed
Officer of the Day
after pale little house that was as silent as the tomb.
At last we came to a clean little casa near the school and stopped in the road. Though the lights were more brilliant here than else- where, we knew that there was no cholera. We could see a little siting room, as dainty and speckless as the pink interior of a new seashell. Before the door of an adjoining room, squatting like withered sphinxes on guard, were two old women, and across from them, his eyes strained on the opening, his body crouched on the edge of a chair, as tense as a runner's at the starting line, was Sergeant Lennoc.
The recruit had left the captun and me and had moved to the dde of the house where be could look into the dosed room. He came back now, and as he passed into the bar of tight from the street door I saw that his face was white with excitement.
"Captain," he whispered, "come here." And there was so much awe in his voice that Clark quietly obeyed. He led us to a place from which the whole interior of the room was visible, through the window.
There was a snowy American bed there, with a crucifix above it. A native woman was just leaving its side to tiptoe toward the door. As her body cleared our line of »ght, I drew in my breath sharply and I heard the captain's dry rasping gasp. Then the door opened noiselessly and Lennoc ap- peared. He crossed the room in three pantherlike paces; there was a little sigh of infinite yearning, and he was on his knees at the bedside, face buried in the cool white sheets, shoulders heaving in manly sobs.
On the pillow, framed by her clouds of brown hair, we saw the face of the maestra, and close beside it was another face, a tiny, dny, weazened rosy face, crowned by damp black ringlets.
But the wonder was in that woman's tyvt, I have not told of it where it should have been told because it is not to be cxpreaaed. It did not come until Lennoc had knelt by the bedside and then — above his heaving shoulders — we saw it. All love, all ha(^- ness, an infinite knowledge and trust ijkI contentment that made the world and its torments puny nothing.
The wan face was pale and tired and drawn, the arm that stole out and rested on Lennoc' s shoulders was no more than a white lily stem — but the eyes, the wonderf id wistful eyes, they changed a hard and crabbed old man in an instant to a fellow of all empathy. I felt the captain's band reach back for support. It gripped mine until my fingers ached and I heard just under his breath :
"Good God — good God — in the world these years — and I never knew !"
We stood there almost spellbound fcv seconds. We saw her fingers steal up and reach his hair and heard her voice cooing soothingly.
"Poor boy — poor — poor boy. But see, it's all right now. And I knew you'd come. I never doubted — or I couldn't have lived. And O my dearest, dearest, dear^ — the most uwnderful — see — he has your mouth and chin and perhaps — the least little bit — ."
We heard no more. I thought the cap- tain's hoarse groan would startle them, but it did not. They were in another planet.
"Come away, men — come away." In the street, he turned on us fiercely.
"Lennoc broke quarantine" he said. "He struck a sentinel and assaulted me. You men know about it — you and no one else. Keep it to yourselves — hear — keep it to yourselves," and then half to himself, "It's the least we can do — the least — Phelps, stay and bring the boy to me — when he can come — that's all."
Mr. Kytu's story of the "Duplicity of Captain Scraggi" in the August numbtr brought n many requests for more advenlurcs of lhe"Af aggie" lliat Suxsr.T Magazine lias secured a seria t^ amusing yarns from Mr. Kyneinwhich the fortunes of thai absurd vessel are followed along the California ceaa, until the harmless green pea trade is abandoned for fatal filibustering.
m
TR. Gibney had been "on the beach" for a week. Three days of that jobless week had been spent in a valiant, though L vain, endeavor to stifle regret (or his fruitless past and his barren future, and in the pursuit of forgetfulness he had dallied over-long with the fiery usquebaugh of the Bowhead saloon. On the morning of the fourth day, however, Mr. Gibney awoke to a realization of the fact that his finances were at extremely low tide and that his stomach craved a speedy return to a solid diet. Inotherwords,upon the momingof the fourth day. Mr. Gibney desired ham and eggs.
He was in lied in Scab Johnny's boarding house when his stomach hammered at the door of his soul and bade him be up and doing. By degrees Mr. Gibney commenced to roll and surge until presently he found himself clear of the hiankels and seated in his underclothes on the side of the hcd. Here he indulged in a series of scratchings and yawnings for fully five minutes, after which he disposed, at a gulp, of the water designed for his matutinal ablutions, and once again, sat down on the bed ^o compose his mind to the task of discovering the silver lining which is popularly suppo.sed to invest the under side of every <loiid .
"I'll have to hock my sextant" was the condusion at which Mr. Gibney presently
arrived; whereupon he arose, dressed him- self in his Sunday suit (when at leisure Mr. Gibney always dressed for the part), took his sextant under his arm and departed for a pawnshop in lower Market street. Twenty minutes later he sat down to ham and eggs.
After breakfast on that fourth day Mr. Gibney set forth to seek a berth as first mate on a steam schooner. On the fifth day he was still seeking; on the sixth likewise he sought; on the seventh day he rested and made up his mind to forgive Captain Scraggs, master of the vegetable freighter Maggie — pro\'ided, of course, that his old job, as chief mate, second mate, purser, freight clerk and deckhand of the disgraceful little steamer, went with his forgiveness.
Many a time and oft had Mr. Gibney and Captain Scraggs (juarreled and separated, only to find, after a week of divorce, that each was indispensable to the other. Of course, in their latest quarrel, Captain Scraggs had trodden on Mr. Gibne3r'9 tenderest feelings; nevertheless, Mr. Gib- ney made up his mind, if Captain Scraggs showed a disposition to l>e at all friendly, to treat him with civility. For Mr. Gibney was tired of paying (or rather of promising to pay) Scab Johnny $3.00 a week for a room ashore, when, by the simple process of letting bygones be bygones, he could sleep abotLid die ~ 1 anid draw his sixty
32
Pigs in Pokes
a month. In addition, Mr. Gibney missed greatly the pleasure of badgering and bully- mg Captain Scraggs, whom he hated, and of yarning with Bartholomew McGufFey, the engineer, whom he cherished.
Filled with such yearnings, then, did Mr. Gibney, upon the seventh day, prepare to haunt the neighborhood of Vallejo-street bulkhead, where the Maggie was laid up, pending the abatement of a week of rough weather outside which prevented her from making her tri-weekly trip in the green-pea trade to Halfmoon bay. As he rolled along the docks, Mr. Gibney rehearsed a brief apology to Captain Scraggs — an apology that would indicate that he was ¥rilling to wipe the slate clean and come back to work, but reserving for himself the privilege of disagreeing with Captain Scraggs at any time in the future that he might so elect.
As Mr. Gibney passed by the Embarca- dero warehouse, he was mildly interested to note the presence of fully a dozen seedy - looking gentlemen of undoubted Hebraic antecedents, congregated in a circle just outside the warehouse door, while above their heads there floated the red flag of an auctioneer. There was an air of suppressed excitement about this group of Jews that aroused Mr. Gibney's curiosity. He decided to cross over and investigate, being of the opinion that one of their number had possibly fallen in a fit. Mr. Gibney had once had an epileptic shipmate and was pecul- iarly expert in the handling of such cases.
Now, if the greater portion of Mr. Gib- ney*s eventful career had not been spent at sea, he would have known that the group of Hebrew gentlemen constituted an organiza- tion known as The Forty Thieves, whose business it was to dominate the bidding at all auctions, frighten off, or buy off, or outbid all competitors, and eventually gather unto themselves, at their own figures, all goods offered for sale.
In the center of the group Mr. Gibney noticed a tall, lanky individual, evidently the leader, who was issuing instructions in a low voice to his henchmen. This individual, though Mr. Gibney did not know it, was the King of The Forty Thieves. As Mr. Gibney luffed into view, the king eyed him with suspicion. Observing this, Mr. Gibney threw out his magnificent chest, scowled at the king and stepped into the warehouse for all the world a£ if he owned it.
An oldish man with glasses — the auc-
tioneer— was seated on a box making figines in a notebook. Him Mr. Gibney addmaed.
''What's all this here?'' be mquiied, jerk- ing his thumb over his shoulder at the group.
"It's an old horse sale" replied the auctioneer, without looking up.
Mr. Gibney brightened. He g^ced around for the stock in trade, but observing none concluded that the old horses would be led in, one at a time, through a small door in the rear of the warehouse. Like most sailors, Mr. Gibney had a passion for horseback riding, and in a spirit of adven- ture he resolved to acquaint himself with the ins and outs of an old horse sale.
"How much might a man have to give for one of the critters ?" he asked. "And are they worth a- whoop after you get them?"
"Twenty-five cents up" was the answer. "You go it blind at an old horse sale, as a rule. Perhaps you get something that's worthless, and then again you may get something that has heaps of value, and perhaps you only pay half a dollar for it. It all depends on the bidding. I once sold an old horse to a chap and he took it home and opened her up, and what d*ye suppose he found inside?"
"Bots" replied Mr. Gibney, who prided himself on being something of a veterinarian, having spent part of his youth aroimd a livery stable.
"A million dollars in Confederate green- backs" replied the auctioneer. "Of course they didn't have any value, but just suppose they'd been U. S.?"
"That's right" agreed Mr. Gibney. "I suppose the swab that owned the horse starved him until the poor animal figgered that all's grass that's green. As the feller says, *Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction.* If you throw in a saddle and bridle cheap, I might be induced to invest in one of your old horses, shipmate."
The auctioneer glanced quickly at Mr. Gibney, but noticing that worthy's face free from guile, he hurst out laughing.
"My sea-faring friend" he said presendy, "when we use the term *ol(i horse,' we use it figuratively. See all this freight stored here? Well, that's all old horses. It's freight from* the S. P. railroad that's never Ix-en called for by the consignees, and after it's in the warehouse a year and isn't called for, we have an old horse sale and auction it off to the highest bidder. Savey?"
Mr. Gibney took refuge in a lie. "Of
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course I do. I was just kiddin' you, my hearty." (Here Mr. Gibney's glance rested on two heavy sugar-pine boxes, or shipping cases. Their joints at all four corners were cunningly dove-tailed and wire-strapped.) "I was a bit interested in them two boxes, an' seein' as this is a free coimtry, I thought I'd just step in an' make a bid on them" and with the words, Mr. Gibney walked over and busied himself in a mock inspection of the two crates in question.
The fact of the matter was that so embarrassed was Mr. Gibney at the ex- position of his ignorance that he desired to hide the confusion evident in his sun- tanned face. So he stooped over the crates . and pretended to be exceedingly interested in them, hauling and pushing them about and reading the address of the consignee who had failed to call for his goods. The crates were both consigned to one Gin Seng, 714 Dupont street, San Francisco. There ^ere several Chinese characters scrawled on the top of each crate, together with the words, in English: "Oriental Goods."
As he ceased from his fake inspection of the two boxes, the king of The Forty Thieves approached and surveyed the sailor with an even greater amount of distrust and sus- picion than ever. Mr. Gibney was annoyed. He disliked being stared at. So he said:
"Hello, Blumenthal, my bully boy. What's aggravatin' yoti?^^
Blumenthal (since Mr. -Gibney, in the sheer riot of his imagination elected to christen him Blumenthal, the name will probably suit him as well as any other) came close to Mr. Gibney and drew him aside. In a hoarse whisper he desired to know if Mr. Gibney attended the auction with the expectation of bidding on any of the packages- offered for sale. Seeking to justify his presence, Mr. Gibney advised that it was his intention to bid in everything in sight; whereupon Blumenthal proceeded to explain to Mr. Gibney how impossible it would be for him, arrayed against The Forty Thieves, to buy any article at a reasonable price. Further: Blumenthal desired to inform Mr. Gibney that his (Mr. Gibney's) efforts to buy in the *old horses* would merely result in his running the prices up, for no beneficent purpose, since it was ever the practice of The Forty Thieves to. permit no man to outbid them. Perfaa^ Mr. Gibney would be satisfied with a fur day's prpiit without troubling himself to haoqier
The Forty Thieves and interfere with their combination, and with the words the king surreptitiously slipped Mr. Gibney a fifty- dollar greenback.
Mr. Gibney's great fist closed over the treasure, he having first, by a coy glance, satisfied himself that it was really fifty dollars. He shook hands with the king. He said:
"Blumenthal, you're a smart man. I am quite content with this fifty to keep off your course and give you a wide berth to star- board. I'm sensible enough to know when I'm licked, an' a fight without profit ain't in my line. I didn't make my money that way, Blumenthal. I'll cast off my lines and haul away from the dock," and suiting the action to the figure, Mr. Gibney departed.
He went first to the Seaboard drug store, where he quizzed the druggist for five min- utes, after which he continued his cruise.
He had proceeded less than a block, however, before he collided with his friend, Bartholomew McGuffey, engineer of the steamer Maggie^ and Captain Scraggs, of detestable memory and master and owner of the vessel aforesaid. His new-found riches had swept from Gibney's heart all animosity toward Captain Scraggs. More- over, he was bursting with a great idea, which he simply must impart to some one. So he greeted Scraggs and McGuffey with a glad smile and outstretched hands.
"How d'ye do, Scraggsy, my boy" he said. "No hard feelings, I hope, over our late impleasantness. I been thinkin' it over, Scraggs, an' I've come to the conclusion that I was too hasty at takin' offense. I didn't realize at the time, Scraggsy, that you simply meant to play one o' your little jokes on me, an' I'm sorry that I didn't take it as a joke, the way it was intended. How's your port lamp? Still in moumin'?"
Captain Scraggs returned Mr. Gibney's handshake in a manner vastly suggestive of Uriah Heep. Privately he consigned Mr. Gibney to the deepest hells, though not without a mental reservation that a better mate would rarely visii said infernal regions. He was on the point of declining Mr. Gibney's apology, however, until he chanced to recollect that in all San Francisco Mr. Gibney was the only mate who wasn't too proud to do a deck hand's work when that was necessar}'. So he wreathed his fox face in a crocodile smile and lied with his customary saig-froid.
"I knew you'd come around to a right
24
Pigs in Pokes
view o* things, Gib" he replied. "Fact is, I was expectin' you sooner. As you say, Gib, I was just pullin' off a little joke on you, Gib, an' in spite o' everything you go an' take it serious. Your old job is a-waitin' for you, Gib, my dear boy, if you're willin* to let dead dogs lay."
Not only would Mr. Gibney let dead dogs lay, but they might hatch, if they so desired, for all he cared. He said as much. Also he invited Messrs. Scraggs and McGuffey to join him in three fingers of nepenthe at a neighboring thirst emporium, thereby seal- ing the treaty of peace in a manner befitting their calling and in line with the traditions of the sea.
Arrived at the saloon, Mr. Gibney laid his fifty-dollar bill on the mahogany with an air calculated to inspire Scraggs and Mc- Guffey with the impression that it was absolutely the smallest change in his possession (which, indeed, it was). Captain Scraggs put on his horn-rimmed glasses and peered over them at the bill. McGuffey stared in open-mouthed wonder.
"Wlierever did you get all that money, my dear Gib?" asked Scraggs, already a little frightened at the thought that Mr. Gibney would not long remain alx)ard the Maggie. "Somebody die an' leave you a fortune, or you been stealin'?" Whereupon Mr. Gib- ney related in detail, and with many addi- tional details supplied by his own imagina- tion, the stor}' of his morning's adventure.
"Gib" said McGuffey enviously, "you're a fool for luck."
**Luck" said Mr. Gibney, beginning to expand, "is what the feller calls a relative proposition — "
"You're wrong, Gib" interposed Captain Scraggs. "Relatives is unlucky aw' expensive. Take, f'r instance, Mrs. Scraggs* mother — "
"I mean, you lunkhead,'' said Mr. Gib- ney, "that luck is found where brains grow. No brains, no luck. No luck, no brains. Lemme illustrate. A thievin' land shark makes me a present o' fifty dollars not to butt in on them two boxes Tm tellin' vou about. Him an' his gang wants them two boxes. Fair crazy to get 'em. Now, don't it stand to reason that them fellers knows what's /w them boxes, or they wouldn't give me fifty dollars to haul ship? Of course it does. However, in order to earn that fifty dollars, I got to back water. It wouldn't be playin' fair if I didn't. But that don't
svent me from puttin' two dear friends o'
mine (here Mr. Gibney encircled Scraggs and McGuffey with an arm each) next to the secret which I discovers, an' if there's money in it for old Hooky that buys me off, it stands to reason that there's money in it for us three. What's to prevent you an' McGuffey from goin' up to this old horse sale an' biddin' in them two boxes for the use an' benefit of Gibney, Scraggs an' McGuffey, all share an' share alike? You can bid as high as a hundred dollars if necessary, an* still come out a thousand dollars to the good. I'm tellin' you this because I know what's in them two l)oxes."
McGuffey was staring fascinated at Mr. Gibney. Captain Scraggs clutched his mate's arm in a frenzied clasp.
"117/(2/!" they Ixnh interrogated.
"You two boys" continued Mr. Gibney with aggravating delil)eration, "ain't what nobody would call dummies. You're smart men. But the trouble with both o' }'ou boys is you ain't got no imagination. Without imagination nolxxly gets nowhere, unless it's out th' small end o' th' horn. Maybe you boys ain't noticed it, but my imagination is all that keeps me from goin' to jail. Now, if vou two had read the address on them two boxes, it wouldn't a-meant nothin' to you. Absolutelv nothin'. But with me it's different. I'm blessed with imagination enough to see right through them Chinamen tricks. Them two lx)xes is consigned" (here Mr. Gibney raised a grimy forefinger, and Scraggs and McGuffey eyed it ver\' much as if they expecte<l it to go off at any moment) — "them two boxes is consigned to — Gin — Seng — 714 Duptmt street, San Francisco."
"Well, that's up in Chinatown all right" admitted (\iptain Scraggs, **l>ut how about what's inside ihem two crates?"
"Oriental goods, of course" said McGuf- fey. "They're consigned to a Chinaman, an' besides, that's what it says on the cases, don't it, (lib? Oriental goods, Scraggs, is silks an' satins, rice, chop sucy, punk an' idols an' fan lan layouts."
Mr. Gibney tapped gently with his homy knuckles on the honest McGuffev's head.
"If there ain't Swiss cheese movements in that head block o' vours, Mac, vou an Scraggsy can divide my share o' these two l)oxes o' ginseng root between you. Do you get it, you chuckleheaded son of an Irish potato? (iin Seng, 714 Dupont street. Ginseng — a root or a herb that medicine is made out of. The dictionary' says ii's a
Peler B. Kyne
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Chinese panacea for exhaustion, an' I happen to know that it's worth five dollars a pound an' that them two crates weighs a hundred an' fifty pound each if they weighs an ounce."
His auditors stared at Mr. Gibney much as might a pair of fans at the hero of a home run with two strikes and the bases full.
"Gawdl" muttered McGuffey.
"Great grief, Gib 1 Can this be possible?" gasped Captain Scraggs.
For answer Mr. Gibney took forty dollars of his change and handed it to — to McGuf- fey. He never trusted Captain Scraggs with anything moie valuable than a pipeful of tobacco.
"Scraggsy" he said solemnly, "I'm willin' to back my imagination with my cash. You an' McGuflfey hurry right over to the warehouse an' butt in on the sale when they come to them two boxes. The sale is just about startin' now. Go as high as you think you can in order to get the ginseng at a profitable figger, an*, assumin' that you ain't neither o' you prepared to invest the money right this minute, you can pay the auction- eer forty dollars down to bold the sale, an' that will give you boys time to rush aroimd an' dig up the balance o' the money. Tack right along, now, lads, while I go down the street an' get me some lunch. I don't want Blumenthal to see me around that sale. He might get suspicious. After I eat I'll meet you down aboard th' Maggie, an' we'll divide the loot."
With a fervent hand- • shake all around, the three shipmates parted.
After disposing of a hearty luncheon of dev- fled lamb's kidneys and a quart of btcr, Mr. Gibney invested in a tcn- cent Sailor's Delight and stioUed down to the
steamer Maggie. Neils Halverson, the Icme deckhand, was aboard, and the moment Mr. Gibney trod the Maggie's deck once more as mate he exercised his prerogative to order Neils ashore for the rest of the day. Since Halverson was not in on the ginseng deal, Mr. Gibney concluded that it would be just as well to have him out of the way should Scraggs and McGuffey appear unexpectedly with the two cases of ginseng.
For an hour Mr. Gibney sat on the stem bitts and ruminated over a few advan- tageous plans that had occurred to him for the investment of his share of the deal, should Scraggs and McGuffey succeed In landing what Mr. Gibney termed "the loot." About three o'clock an express wagon drove in on the dock, and the mate's dreams were pleasantly interrupted by a gleeful shout from Captain Scraggs, on the
26
Pigs in Pokes
lookout forward ^th the driver. McGuffey sat on top oi the two cases with his legs danglini; over the end of the wagon. He was tlie picture of contentment.
Mr. Gibney hurried forward, threw out the gangplank and assisted McGufifey in carrying both rrates aboard the Maggie and into her little caoin. Captain Scraggs there- upon dismissed the expressman, and all three partners gathered around the dinuig room table, upon which the boxes rested.
"Well, Scraggsy, old pal, old scout, old socks, I see you've delivered the goods," said Mr. Gibnpy, batting the skipper across the cabin with an affectionate slap on the shoulder.
"I did" said Scraggs— and cursed Mr. Gibney's demonstrativeness. "Here's the bill o' sale all regular. McGuffey has the change. That bunch o' Israelites run th' price up to $10.00 each on these two crates o' ginseng, but when they see we're determined to have 'cm an' ain't interested in nothin' else, they lets 'em go to us. McCJuffey, my dear lx)y, whatever are you a-iloin' there — standin' around with your teeth in ycur mouth? Skip dr>wn into th' engine room and bring up a hammer an' a col' chisel. We'll ojxjn her up an' inspect th' swag."
Upon McCiuffey's return, Mr. Gibney took charge. He drove the chisel under the lid of the nearest crate, and prepared to pry it loose. Suddenly he paused. A thought had occurred to him.
"Gentlemen" he said (McGuffey nodded his head approvingly) "this world is full o' sorrers an' disappointments, an' it may well be that these two cases don't contain even so much as a smell o' ginseng, after all. It may be that they are really Oriental goods. What I want distinctly understood is this: no matter what's inside, we share equally in the profits, even if they turn out to l)c losses. That's understood an' agreed to, ain't it?"
Captain Scraggs and McGuffey indicated that it was.
"There's a element o' mystery about these two boxes" continued Mr. Gibney, "that fascinates me. They sets my imagination a-workin' an' joggles up all my sportin' instincts. Now, just to make it interestin' an' add a spice t' th' grand openin', I'm willin' to bet agin my own best judgment an' lay you even money, S :raggsy, that it ain't ginseng but Oriental goods."
"I'll go you five dollars, just f r ducks" wspondccl Captain Scraggs heartily, "Mc-
Gufifey to hold the stakes an' decide the bet." "Done" replied Mr. Gibney. The money was placed in McGufifey's hands, and a moment later, with a mighty efifort, Mr. Gibney pried off the lid of the crate. Cap- tain Scraggs had his head inside the box a fifth of a second later.
"Sealed zinc box inside" he announced. "Get a can opener, Gib, my boy."
"Ginseng, for a thousand" mourned Mr. Gibney. "Scraggsy, you're five dollars of my money to the good. Gmseng always comes packed in air-tight boxes."
He produced a can opener from the cabjn locker and fell to his work on a comer of the hermetically sealed Ik)x. As he drove in the point of the can opener, he paused, hammer in hand, and gazed solemnly at Scraggs and McGuffey.
"Gentlemen" (again McGufifey nodded ap- provingly) "do you know what a \'acuum is?" "T'ell with it" snapped Captain Scraggs. "Open her up."
"I know" replied the imperturbable McGufifey. "A vacuum is an empty hole that ain't got nothin' in it."
"Correct" said Mr. Gibney. "My head is a vacuum. Me talkin' about ginseng root I Why, I must have water on the brain I Ginseng l>e doggoned! IT*S OPIUM!"
Captain Scraggs was forced to grab the seat of his chair in order to keep himself from jumping up and clasping Mr. Gibney around the neck.
"Forty dollars a pound" he gasped. "Gib — Gib, my dear ])oy — you've made us wealthy — "
Quickly Mr. Gibney ran the can opener around the edge of one end of the zinc box, inserted the claws of the hammer into the opening and with a (juick, melodramatic twist, bent hack the twist thus formed.
Mr. Gibney was the tlrst to get a peep inside.
"Great snakes!" he yelled, and fell back against the cabin wall. A hoarse scream of rage and horror broke from Captain Scraggs. In his eagerness he had driven his head so deep into the box that he came within an inch of kissing what the box con- tained— which happened to be nothing more nor less than a dead Chinaman I Mr. McGuffey, always slow and unimaginative, shouldered the skipper aside, and calmly surveyed the ghastly apparition.
"Twig the yellow beggar, will you, Gib" said McGufifey; "one eye half open for all the
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world like he was winkin' at us an' enjoyin' th' joke."
Not a muscle twitched in McGuflFey's Hibernian countenance. He scratched his head for a moment, as a sort of first aid to memory, then turned and handed Mr. Gibney ten dollars.
"You win, Gib. It's Oriental goods, sure enough."
"Robber!" shrieked Captain Scraggs, and flew at Mr. Gibney's throat. The sight reminded McGuffey of a terrier worrying a mastifif. Nevertheless, Mr. Gibney was still so unnerved at the discovery of the horrible contents of the box that, despite his gigantic proportions, he was well-nigh helpless.
"McGuffey, you swab" he yelled, "pluck this maritime outlaw off my neck. He*s tearin' my windpipe out by th* roots."
McGuffey choked Captain Scraggs imtilhe reluctantly let go Mr. Gibney; whereupon all three fled from the cabin as from a pestilence, and gathered, an angry and disappointed group, out on deck.
"Opium 1" jeered Captain Scraggs, with tears of rage in his voice. "Ginseng! You and your imagination, you swine, you ! Get off my ship, you lout, or Til murder you."
Mr. Gibney hung his head.
"Scraggsy — ^an' you too, McGuffey — I got to admit that this here is one on Adelbert P. Gibney. I— I—"
"Oh, hear him" shrilled Captain Scraggs. "One on him! It*s two on you, you bloody handed ragpicker. I suppose that other case contains opium, too! If there ain't another dead corpse in No. 2 case, I hope my teeth may drop overlx)ard."
"Shut up!" bellowed Mr. Gibney, in a towering rage. "What howl have you got comin'? They're my Chinamen, ain't they? I paid for *em like a man, didn't I? AH right, then. I'll keep them two Chinamen. You two ain't out a cent yet, an' as for this five I wins off you, Scraggs, it's blood money, that's what it is, an' I hereby gives it back to you. Now, quit yer whinin', or by the tail o' the Great Sacred Bull, I'll lock you up all night in th' cabin along o' them two defunct Celestials."
Captain Scraggs "shut up" promptly, and contented himself with glowering at Mr. Gilmey. The mate sat down on the hatch ooamingi lit his pipe and gave himself up to mo^Mkm for fully five minutes, at the end of wUch time McGuffey was aware that his
imagination was about to come to the front once more.
"Well, gentlemen" (again McGuffey nodded approvingly) "I bet I get my twenty bucks back outer them two Chinks" announced Mr. Gibney presently
"How'll yer do it?" inquired McGuffey politely.
"How'll I do it? Easy as fallin' through an open hatch. I'm a-goin' t' keep them two stiffs in th' boxes until dark, an' then I'm a-goin' to take 'em out, bend a rope aroimd their middle, drop 'em overboard an' anchor 'em there all night. Th' lad we opens up in No. i case has had a beautiful job o' embalmin' done on him, but if I let him soak all night, like a mackerel, he'll limber up an' look kinder fresh. Then first thing in th' momin' I'll telephone th' coroner an' tell him I foimd two floaters out in th' bay an' for him to come an' get 'em. I been along th' waterfront long enough t' know that th' lad that picks up a floater gets a reward o' ten dollars from th' city. You can bet that Adelbert P. Gibney breaks even on th' deal, all right."
"Gib, my dear boy" said Captain Scraggs admiringly, "I apologize for my actions of a few minutes ago. I was unstrung. You're still mate o' th' American steamer Maggie^ an' as such, welcome t' th' ship. All I ask is that you nail up your property, Gib, an' remove it from th' dinin' room table. I want to remind you, however, Gib, that as shipmates me an' McGuffey don't stand for you shoulderin' any loss on them two cases o' — Oriental goods. We was t' share th' gains, if any, an' likewise th' losses."
"That's right" said McC^uffey, "fair an' square. No belly-achin' between shipmates. Me an' Scraggs each owns one-third o' them diseased Chinks, and we each stands one- third o' th' loss, if any."
"But there won't be no loss" protested Mr. Gibney.
"Drayage charges, Gib, drayage charges. We give a man a dollar to tow 'em down t' th' ship."
"Forget it" answered Mr. Gibney mag- nanimously, "an' let's go over an' get a drink. I'm all shook up."
After the partners had partaken of a sufiicient quantity of nerve tonic, Mr. (lihney suddenly recollected that he had to go over to Market street and redeem the sextant which he had pawned several days before. And since McGuffey knew, from
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Pigs in Pokes
ocular evidence, that Mr. Gibney was "flush," he decided to accompany the mate. Captain Scraggs said he thought he'd go back to the Maggie. He had forgotten to lock the cabin door.
Had either Mr. Gibney or McGuflFey been watching Captain Scraggs for the next twenty minutes, they would have been much puzzled to accoimt for that worthy's actions. First he dodged around the block into Drumm street, and then ran down Drumm to California, where he climbed aboard a cable- car and rode up into China- town. Arrived at Dupont street he alighted and walked up that interesting thoroughfare until he came to No. 714. Captain Scraggs glanced at a sign over the door and was aware that he stood l)efore the entrance to the offices of the Chinese Six Companies. He climl^d upstairs and inquired for Gin Seng, who presently made his appearance.
Gin Seng, a very nice, fat Chinaman, arrayed in a flowing silk gown, begged, in very go<Ki pidgin- English, to know in what manner he could l)e of scr\'ice.
"Me heap big captain, allee same ship" began Captain Scraggs. "On board ship two China lx)ys have got. (Here Captain Scraggs winked knowingly). China boy no speak English — ''
"That l^eing the case" interposed Gin Seng, "I presume that you and 1 understand each other, so let's cut out the pidgin- English. Do I understand that you are engaged in evading the immigration laws?"
"ICxactly" (^aptain Scraggs managed to gasp, as soon as he could recover from his astonishment. "They showed me your name an' address, an' they won't leave th' ship, where I got 'em locked up in my cal>in, until you come an' take 'em away. Couple o' relatives o* yours, I should imagine."
Gin Seng smiled his bland Chinese smile. He had frequent dealings with ship masters engaged in the dangerous though lucrative trade of smuggling Chinese into the United States. He decided to go with Captain Scraggs to Vallejo-street bulkhead and see if he could not be of some use to his countrymen.
As Captain Scraggs and his Chinese companion approached the wharf, the skipper glanced warily about. He had small fear that either Gibney or McGuflFey would show up for several hours, for he knew that Mr. Gibney had money in bis
possession. However, he decided to take no chances, and scouted the vicinity thoroughly before venturing aboard the Af aggie. These actions served but to increase the respect of Gin Seng for the master of the Maggie and conflrmed him in his belief that the Maggie was a smuggler.
Captain Scraggs took his >isitor inside the little cabin, carefully locked and bolted the door, lifted the zinc flap back from the top of the crate of "Oriental goods," and dis- played the face of the dead Chinaman. Also he pointed to the Chinese characters on the wooden lid of the crate.
"What does these hen scratches mean?" demanded Scraggs.
"This man is named Ah Ghow and he belongs to the Hop Sing tong."
"How about his pal here?"
"That man is evidently Ng Chong Yip. He is also a Hop Sing man."
Captain Scraggs wrote it down. "All right" he said cheerily; "much obliged. Now, what I want to know is what the Hop Sing tong means by shipping the departed brethren by freight? They gc to work an' fix 'em up nice so's they'll keep, packs 'em away in a zinc coffin, inside a nice plain wood box, labels 'em * Oriental goods' and consigns 'em to Gin Seng, 714 Dupont street, San Francisco. Now why are these two countrymen o' yours shipped by freight — where, by the way, they goes astray, for some reason that I don't know nothin* al)out, an' I buys 'em up at a old horse sale?"
Gin Seng shrugged his shoulders and replied that he didn't understand.
"You lie" snarled Captain Scraggs. "You savey all right, you fat old idol, you! It's because if the railroad company knew these two boxes contained dead corpses they'd a-soaked the relatives, which is you, one full fare each from wherever these two dead ones comes from, just the same as though they was alive an' well. But you has 'em shipped by freight, an' aims to spend a dollar and thirty cents each on 'em, by markin' 'em * Oriental Goods.' Helluva way to treat a relation. Now, looky here, you bloody heathen. It'll cost you just five hundred dollars to recover these two stiffs, an' close my mouth. If you don't come t^.rough I'll make a belch t' th' newspapeis an' they'll keel haul an' skulldrag th' Chinese Six Companies, an' the Hop Sing tong through th' courts for evadin' th' laws o' th' Interstate Commeroe
Peter B. Kyne
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ti' make 'em look like monkeys geaerally. An' then th' police'll get wind of it. Savey policce-man, you fat old murderer? Th' price I'm askin' is cheap, Charley. How do I know but what these two poor boys has been murdered in cold blood? There's somethin' rotten in Denmark, my bully boy, an' you'll save time an' trouble an' money by diggin' up five hundred dollars."
Gin Seng said he would go back to Chinatown and consult with his company. For reasons of his own he was badly frightened.
Scarce had he departed before the watch- ful eye of CapUin Scraggs observed Mr. Gibney and McGuffey in the offing, a block away. When they came aboard they found Captain Scraggs on top of the house, seated on an upturned fire bucket, smoking pen- sively and gazing across the bay with an assumption of lamblike innocence on his fox face.
At the suggestion of Scraggs, Gibney and McGuffey nailed up the box of "Oriental Goods" and set both boxes out on the main deck, aft. For about an hour thereafter all three sat around the little cabin table, talking, and it was evident, to Mr. Gibney's practiced eye, that Captain Scraggs had something on his mind. Mr. Gibney suspecting that it could be nothing honest was surprised, to say the least, when Cap- tain Scraggs made a dean breast of his proposition.
"Gib — an' you, too, McGuffey. I been thinkin' this thing over, an' as master o' this ship an' the one who does the biddin' in o' these two Chinks at th' sale, it's up to me t' try an' bring you both out with a profit, an' I think th' aellin' should be left to me. I won't hide nothin' from you boys. I'm a-wiUIn' to take a chance that I can sell them two ctdams to some horspi- td ft dissection pur-
ra, an* get more outer dMl ttu
, Gib, by passin' 'cm off as floaters. I'm a-willin' to give you an' McGuffey a five- dollar profit over an' above your investment, an' take over th' property myself, just f'r a fiyer, an' to sorter add a sportin' interest to an otherwise humdrum life. How about it, lads?"
"You can have my fraction" said McGuffey promptly; whereupon Captain Scraggs produced the requisite amount of cash and immediately became the owner of a two-thirds' interest.
Mr. Gibney was a trifle mystified. He knew Scraggs well enough to know that the skipper never made a move until he had everything planned ahead to a nicety. The mate was not above making five dollars on the day's work, but some sixth sense told him that Captain Scraggs was framing up a deal designed to cheat him and McGuffey out of a large and legitimate profit. Sooner than sell to Captain Scraggs and enable him to unload at an unknown profit, Mr. Gibney resolved to retain his one-third interest, even if he had to go to jail for it. So he informed Captain Scraggs that he thought he'd hold on tn his share for a day or two.
"But, Gib, my dear boy" explained Scraggs, "you ain't got a word to say about this deal no more. Don't you realize that I
1 you I
"Rohbcrl" Bhr1"k'fl r»,v'a\Tv ?.tT»«wi. »
30
Pigs in Pokes
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hold a controllin' interest an' that you must bow to th' vote o' th' majority?"
"Don't I, though" blustered Mr. Gibney. "Well, just let me catch you luggin' ofF my property without my consent — in writin' — an' we'll see who does all th' bowin', Scraggsy. I'll cut your greedy little heart out, that's what I'll do."
"Well, then" said Scraggs, "you get your blasted property off'n my ship, an' get yourself off an' don't never come back."
"F'r th' love o' common sense" bawled Mr. Gibney, "what do you think I am? A butcher? How am I to get away with a third o' two dead Chinamen? Ain't you got no reason to you at all, Scraggs?"
"Very well then" replied the triumphant Scraggs, "if you won't sell, then buy out my interest an' rid my ship o' this contaminatin' encumbrance?"
"I won't buy an' I won't sell — ^leastways until I've had time to consider" replied Mr. Gibney. "I smell a rat somewheres, Scraggs, an' I don't intend to be beat outer my rights. Moreover, I question McGuffey's right to dispose o' his one-third without asking my advice an' consent, as th' pro- moter o' this deal, f'r Ih' reason that by his act he aids an' al)ets th' formation o' a trust, creates a monopoly an' blocks th' wheels o' free trade; all o' which is agin public policy an' don't go in no court o' law. McGuffey, give Scraggs back his money an' keep your interest. \\Tien any o' th' parties hereto can rig up a sale o' these two Celes- tials, it's hii: duty to let his shipmates in on th' same. He may exact a five per cent commission for his effort, if he wants t' be rotten mean, an' th' company has t' pay it t' him, but otherwise we all whacks up, share an' share alike, on profits an' losses."
"Right you are, Gib, my hearty" responded McGuffey. "Scraggs, we'll just call that sale off, f'r *th' sake o' harmonv. Here's your money. I ain't chokin' off Gibney's steam at no time, not if I know it."
"You infernal river rats" snarled Scraggs, "I'll— I'll— "
"Stow it" said Mr. Gibney sternly; where- upon Captain Scraggs threw his hat on the cabin floor and jumped upon it. This habit of jumping on his hat when he was angry was Captain Scraggs' most miserable char- acteristic, and in addition, was a source of continual expense to him. Eventually he replaced his ruined headgear, ordered both McGuffey and Gibney off his ship^ and
without waiting to see whether or no his orders were obeyed, fled up town.
For an hour Mr. Gibney and his faithful friend McGuffey sat on deck smoking and striving to fathom the hidden meaning back of Scraggs' proposal to buy them out.
"He's got his lines fast somewhexey you can bank on that" was Mr. Gibney's com- ment. "Otherwise he wouldn't 'a flew into such a rage when we wouldn't sell. My imagination may get a point or two off th' course at times, I'll admit, biit in general, Mac, if there's a dead whale floatin' around th' ship, I can smell it. F'r instance, I see a fat Chinaman cruisin' down th' dock in an express wagon, with another fat China- man a-settin' up on th' bridge with him, an' * they're a-comin' bows on f r the steamer Maggie. What does my imagination tell me, McGuffey? It tells me to deduct some* thin'. I do. I deduct that this body- snatchin' Scraggs has arranged with yon fat Chinaman to relieve us o' th' unwelcome presence o' his defunct friends. He*s gone arC hunted up iW* relaiives, far a thousoMd^ atC made 'fw come across. Wasn't I th' numbskull not t' think o' that? All light, McGuffey. We ain't too late f'r th' feast, I guess. All that remains for me an' you, Mac, is t' imagine th' price, collect th' money an' declare a dividend. Quick, McGuffey. What's th' price?"
"Fifty dollars f'r th' brace of 'em" sug- gested McGuffey.
"A hundred, Mac, a hundred. That gives us a chance t' crawfish if we're too high." Then in a bluff hearty voice to the fat Chinaman, who was waddling down the gang plank:
"Sow-see, sow-se-e-e-e, hung-gay. HeUo, there John Chinaman. How's your liver? Captain him get tired waitin'. Too kmg time you no come. WTia's mallah, John? You heap lazy all time."
Gin Seng, for of course it was none other, smiled his bland, inscrutable Chinese smile.
"You got two China boy in box?" he asked.
"We have" announced McGxiffey, "an' beautiful specimens they be."
"No money, no China boy" supfde- mented the crafty Gibney.
"Money have got. Too muchee money. You allee same wantee too muchee mane* No can give. Me give two hundred dolto (From which it will be seen that Gir was also endowed with an imaghiat*
I
32
Our Lady of Welcome
world this is, while me an' Mac is a-settin' out on deck, along comes a fat villain o' a Chinaman with a wagon an' offers t' buy them two cases o' oriental goods. He makes me an' Mac what we considers a fair offer for our two- thirds. Besides, two- thirds o' th' stock is represented in me an' Mac, an' you ain't around to offer no suggestions, an' it's a take-it-or-leave-it proposition — so we sells out. Let me see. We paid twenty dollars for them two derelicts, an' a dollar towage. That's twenty-one dollars, an' one-third o' twenty-one dollars is seven dollars, an' seven dollars from twenty-five is nineteen. Here's your nineteen dollars, Scraggs; clear profit on a neat day's work, no expense, no investment, an' sold out at your own price. Me an' Mac's goin' up town after supper, an' take in a movin' picture show. Wanter come along, Scraggsy, old tar pot?"
"Thank you, Gib, my dear boy*' chat- tered Captain Skraggs, his little green eyes blazing with suppressed fury. "A ver}' goo<l sale, indeed. I congratulate you, Gib. I think maybe I could have done a little better myself, but then it ain't every day a man can turn an eighteen — ^I mean a nineteen dollar — trick on a corpse."
"Comin' t' th' show with us?" inquired McGuffey.
"Sure" responded Captain Scraggs. "I'll just run for'd a minute an' see if all th' lines are fast."
He stepped out of the cabin. Presently Mr. (iibncy and McGuffey were aware <rf a rapid succession of thuds on the deck outside. McGuffey helped himself to half a potato, l)alanccd it carefully on the end of his knife, and looked at Mr. Gibney.
" 'Nother new hat gone t' 'ell" said he.
["The Groen Pea PirmteK." frivliiir th» dfCaiN of (>ntorprit«i> mi the part of Mr. Gibney,
will appear in tlie February numlwr.]
Our Lady of Welcome
By S. J. Alexander
Where the Karlh is swept backward, defeated by the rush of the sea on the sands, Our Lady of Welcome sits thron<Vl on the uttermost verge of the lands; She cries out aloud to the Nations, and beckons with welcoming hands.
She has walked in the valley of shadows; She has stood in the tumult of war
Of the elements, rebel against Her; Her children were scattered afar;
But the Day held a torch to Her travail, and the Night lit defeat with a star.
She has trod down defeat in Her pathway; She has entered again to Her Own;
Her children, re-gathered, establish the far-lying rule of Her throne;
And the winds shout the echoes to heaven of Her trumpets of victor}' blown.
By the splendor of great deeds accomplished, by the pulses of pride in Her breast, She has summoned the world to Her Presence; She has bidden the Kast as a guest; And the North and the South are made welcome in the halls of the Queen of the West.
By the sea, led in leash o'er the mountains to serve as man's slave between walls, By the miracle working of God through the hand of the Human, She calls; Let the lands rise in haste at Her bidding, and follow the sun to Her Halb«
J!
A Tow of the World in San Francisco
A Tour of the World in San Francisco
A Tour of the World in San Francisco
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11
The Ghost of the Almaden
By Stella Wynne Heskom
THE door of the little roadside inn's general living-room was pushed abruptly open and a longlegged red-haired young man strode in. He drew a chair up to the huge fireplace, in which a small fire was doing its best to make a tirave show, planted his elbows on his knees and stared in gloomy BOence at the flickering lilaze. The girl who sat industriously sewing on the other side of the hearth watched him a moment, then ■aid hesitatingly, with a sidelong glance: "I see ye've asked father again, Tim?" "I have that!" "An' what did he say?" "He asked me was I crasy to think o' getdn' more mouths to feed whin we were bard put to feed our own — savin' yer blushes, me dear, but thim were his wor-rds! Sure, well be a lively young couple o' eighty be the time we stand brfore the priest.'' Tim broke off short with a gesture of disgust. Nora stitched steadily to the end of her seam. "Did you speak to father about a litde notice in the city papers — about the fine scenery, the good meals an' beds, the cheap prices an' aL that?"
"Aye, an' d'ye know how he answered me? 'Tim O'Mallcy' says he, 'me father an' gran'fatber, an' his father before 'm, all ran inns, an' niver a wan amongst thim all did such a thing as that!' An' whin I says 'Yes, but that was in Bally Tyre, in the auld country where iverywan knew ye ^ce ye was bom, an' nut out here in Cali- foraia,' sure, he got that onreasonable!"
Tim sprang from his chair and began to pace Uie floor.
"O, wina, wirra, it breaks me heart —
tills weaiy waitin' for customers that nivcr
cornel Oh, wouldn't I like to lay me hands
OD die Mack-hearted villain that .sized us up
;reenhoms an' sold us an inn
t's niver traveled. But 'lis
I It Sure, I was the lad ihnl
ideas aljout Amfrira and
» o' y« across the ocean with
me. An' now we're in a fine way to starve to death!"
Nora rested her chin pensively in the palm of her hand, and half turning from the fire let her gaze wander out through the window and up the road to a great tract of uncleared land that swept in a long gentle rise to the base of the foothills. In the dim light this stretch had a dark and mysterious look, as forbidding as the future which Tim had depicted.
But Nora's eyes suddenly Ijegan to twinkle bravely.
"Sure, I wish the auld ghost that used to haunt those wooded fields 'ud walk againi Folks 'ud come to see — "
"Ghost?" interrupted Tim with some excitement. "What ghost "
"Sure" said Nora, opening her eyes wide, "the story they do be tellin' is that in the early days — a hundred years ago or more — whin there was nothin' but the Almaden mines hereabout, a grand young Spanish gentleman who was an inemy o' the king o' that time, (led to California disguized as a beggar. But he waren't no beggar. He was as rich as an English landlord. He brought some o' his treasure with him an' he wint out on dark nights into that stretch o' woods yonder to build a hiding place for it. But on the last night, whin all was in readiness an' he was carryin' out his treasure to put it safely away, a spy sint be the king followed an' learned the secret. But in Uyin' to git back, Ihe blackguard tripped an' fell in the black dark. The gentleman heard him. The two o' thim fought with daggers, an' in the momin' they was found, both o' thim, stretched out slifT an' dead. Search was made for the treasure, but sure, 'twas niver found, thin or since."
"T-ihe dead .Spaniard g-guards it?" Tim fairly tripped over the words in his excite-
Nora n<xldctl. She hwifced again toward the road, Ihe fields, the woodetl slope and beyond, to where the sunset lingered in a
so
The Ghost of the Abnaden
blood-red background, in harmony with the murderous deed of old. The giri shivered slightly. '*Don't be talkin' about it, darlin*. Tis only an auld story. The ghost has not been seen in years."
Tim suddenly brought down his fist on the little center table with a force that almost demolished it:
"Thin, 'tis—" He caught back the words in his throat, looked at Nora uncertainly once or twice, then without a word opened the door and went out.
The next morning Tim kept much to his room. Once or twice he came out to ask Nora to thread a needle. At lunch he appeared to be laboring under some strong excitement. Nora noticed that there were little pieces of white lint clinging to his coat sleeves. Early in the afternoon he came downstairs with a pack slung over his shoulders and announced that he was going to set out on the fifty-mile tramp to the city and see if he couldn't find work.
"Sure, 'tis high time somewan was doin* something" observed Nora's father, "or we'll all be star\'ed an' in our graves. If ye run across inywan more foolish than our- selves, bring him back with ye an' we'll sell him the inn."
As Nora was bidding Tim good-by at the door and they were alone for a moment he turned to her with sudden meaning in his eyes and uttered the crytic sentence:
"Take a walk out toward the Almaden mines every evening after sundown until ye see me again I"
That very evening, almost as soon as the sun had hidden its head behind the foothills, Nora l)egan to patrol the road. No sound moved the stillness save the bedtime song of the thrushes and tbe occasional premoni- tor)' hoot of some hidden screech-owl. Leaning against the old rail fence which bordered the desolate fields, the girl stared across the open spaces to the wocxllands, half-expectant, yet not knowing what she expected. As the shadows of the hills stole toward her, dark loneliness crept into her soul, and a little tremor which she would not acknowledge to be fear crept through her marrow. She could hear the beating of her heart above the diminishing twitter of the birds, and at every hoot of the awakening owls she started. There came a hoot louder than any that had gone before it and Nora uttered a half-stifled cry in spite of herself.
From between two dose-growing twin oaks a white figure emerged.
It began to advance toward the road with a slow gliding motion. In spite of her vague suspicions, Nora's superstitious old- world blood began to run cold in her veins. If the ghost of the murdered Spaniard were to enshroud himself in \ bit of mist that clung cowl-like to his head and flowed robe-like about his limbs, he would look like this! Then, all of a sudden, more because of some sixth sense within her- self than by reason of anything in its appearance, she recognized something familiar in the movement of the dimlv white figure.
Her expression changed and her lips were just twitching into a smile when there came the sudden patter of a horse's hoofs.
She darted into the shadow of .a bush that grew in an angle of the fence. She held her breath as she awaited some sound that would tell her the ghost had been seen. None came. The quiet jogging of the cart was all that broke the stillness. A little quiver of fear shot through Nora. Was it possible that she was mistaken? Was the ghost \isible to no one but herself? She p>eered cautiously around the edge of the bush. The horse ambled slowly along; the reins lay peacefully slack over the dash- board; the fat driver, his head inclined forward, resting on the triple cushions of his chin, lx)unced gently with the movement of the cart.
Nora sighed impatiently. Here was op- portunity coming toward them but, alas, blissfully slumbering! However, she was a lady of resource.
" Twill be a week, an' maybe two, before another person comes along this road be night, an' " she muttered apologetically, "that auld beast isn't spry enough to run away — "
She caught up a handful of gravel and tlung it.
The horse gave a quick, nervous jump. The fat man opened his eyes and uttered a Cierman oath. Shaking himself as if to dispel the last clinging shreds of a dream, he looked about him with the thick glance of the newly awakened. He espied the stilli white figure in the field.
"Gott in Himmel ! £s ist der Erikoenigr
He brought the whip down wid| a that startled the echoes. The hor into a gallop. The cart, wil'
Stella W3mne Herron
51
doud of dust, thumped madly away fitom the haunted spot.
It was the next evening, while Nora and her father were lingering over the lonely dinner table, that two strangers called at the inn. One was short, fat, with a very red face and a German accent. The other was built like a greyhound, lean and long of limb. Nora thought that she caught a glimpse of something under his coat that looked like a medal, but could not be sure.
"Did you ever notice anything strange in this neighborhood?" asked the tall man with elaborate carelessness when he and his companion had consumed most of the meal intended for the surprised family.
"What d'ye mane?" asked the innkeeper, removing the pipe from between his lips.
"Anything peculiar — after dark, you know? The story is that a Spanish noble- man was killed up in the woods yonder, and that his ghost — "
The innkeeper interrupted with a shake of his head. "I saw a ghost wancc at the auld castle on the hill above Bally Tyre" he said reminiscently, "an* more than wance I've heard the voice o' Patrick McMahon, the blacksmith, who was drowned in the bog, cryin' out as I came home late at night, an* I've been chased be leprecawns in the black dark a score o' times, but niver have I seen a ghost in America. They don't have none here" he added somewhat contemp- tuously.
"He's afraid alretty of its interferin' mit business" whispered the fat man, whom Nora now recognized as the driver of the cart she had seen the night before. And the same spirit which had moved her to fling the gravel at the fat man's horse now prompted her to put in:
"I wouldn't be so sure o* that, father dariin'l"
At the words the two strangers and her hther with a simultaneous movement turned and stared at Nora.
"What d'ye mane?" asked her father.
"Sure" she answered in apparent con- fusion, "I didn't mane to ■ ^ eak out so. Tis me tongue that'll be ^\ie death o' me. But," she leaned forward, her eyes round, her voice low and mysterious, "I've seen strange doin's in yon wood !"
"Ye've niver said aught o' this to me belbre, Nony."
''O, father ds**^in' " said his daughter, ^'•iri"g iftk aaikds, "I was goin' to kape it
all locked up within me, an' not tell a livin' soul."
"Come, Miss O'SuUivan, tell us what you saw?" urged the tall man.
"Speak out, Nony" ordered her father.
"'Twas one night last week" began his daughter in trembling tones, "whin I lingered till after dark on the road between here and the mines. It was a quare night altogether — ^there was a moon, but bits o' cloud were constantly blown across the face of it, so that wan minute there'd be moonlight an' the next darkness. I walked along as fast as I could, singin' a litde tune to meself , for though I knew hardly inywan traveled the road I felt afraid. Just this side o' the hill, as I was passin' the bit of old rail fence that stands betwixt the wood and the road, I heard a noise like the hoot of an owl, only louder. I looked, and there, in the open space betwixt the fence and the trees, I saw, as plainly as I see ye — or ye, sor — the white shape of a man floatin' about three feet above the ground. It turned its head — or the part that ought to have been its head — ^as if it were lookin' straight at me. Thin it began floatin' toward me. I screamed and ran with all me might, not darin' to look behind me till I reached the inn."
"Vat didn't I told you?" cried the fat man triumphantly to his companion. "Maype I fool meinself. Maype I only t'ink I see somethings. Pud not mein horse! Nein! Not dat horse. He iss too vise. Unt ven he gets so scaret he leaps in the air unt almost hulls de reins out of mein hant, den he sees somethings inhuman chust de same as I do!"
"Ye saw something, too, sor?" asked the innkeeper in a tone of awe.
"Ja! Chust de same like your daughter did — all in vite — ^pud much taller, eight, nine, ten feet — unt mitout no head!"
"Sure, 'tis a ter-r-r-ible thing!"
Nora suddenly threw her apron over her head as if to shut out the memcrv of the horrible sight, but in reality to hide the laughter she could no longer control. She pressed her h'^uds over her mouth in order that no sound might betray her, but her whole body shook with suppressed mirth.
The German laid his hand on her shoul- der.
"Ach, mein tear young lady" he said en- couragingly, "do nod pe so frightened that you tremble so. Id vould nod haf hurt you.
52
The Ghost of the Ahnaden
You should chust haf seen me last night. I said 'Vhoe!' unt made mein horse stant still, xmt den I looked dat ghost in der eye mit steadiness unt said 'I am nod afraid of you I No ! I haf done no harm to nobodies ! Go avay at once or you shall hear from me !' Pud — of course — vemen are nod so brave."
''Come" said the tall man, "it's dark now. Let's walk up the road past the fence and see if we see anything."
"I t'ink I stay here" said the German with an imeasy glance out the window. "What's der use of me spatzerin arount? Alretty I've seen this t'ing. Go, unt I vait for you vere it's varm unt angenehm py de fire."
The others, Nora included, were soon in a watching group by a bush-grown angle of the old rail fence. The moments passed without event. The innkeeper pulled stol- idly at his pipe but his eyes never ceased to sweep the nearest fringe of woods. Nora's eyes shifted nervously from shadow to shadow. The tall stranger yawned inordi- nately, now and then casting a curious but skeptical glance at the growing shadows.
"Ghosts are like debitors" he drawled finally, "they never show up except when a fellow isn't there !"
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when, near the twin-oaks, the shadows broke apart.
A white figure stood motionless in the moonlight.
Old O' Sullivan uttered an exclamation of fear but stood his ground. The stranger took a step forward. Nora's apprehension, as she watched the figure flit in a zigzag that brought him ever nearer and nearer, was by no means all of the other world.
The stranger took another step forward, then coming to a resolution suddenly leaped the fence and made straight for the ghost. Nora caught her breath as she noted the long springing stride which devoured ihe distance between him and the spirit in a way which far outdid the well-remembered perform- ances of Tim, who had won many a footrace in old Bally Tyre.
But the ghost in this instance did nothing so human as to run. It melted and became one with the shadows — dissolved and mixed with the darkness before the eyes of its astonished pursuer.
Nora smiled in the darkness.
"Sure, Tim" she said softly to herself, "ye can whisk a couple of auld sheets under yer black coat as quick as the next wan!"
"It dodged behind some bushes or some- thing, and I lost sight of it/' said the tall stranger, returning crestfallen and obviouflly puzzled. "But r won't let it work that gag again. I'm going to send for my manager and stay over another night. Thisll be as good exercise as any other."
"Unt so you are pack?" observed the German nonchalantly as he welcomed them to the inn's fireside in the tone of one in hiM own home. "Vat luck?"
"I'm thinkin' 'tis bad as possible" sighed the innkeeper. "If this thing gets noised about, the little thrade we have 11 be after stojppin'."
Nora, who thought she understood die American traveling public better than this, nevertheless kept silent. Shordy after, she left for her own room. She wanted to think quietly, away from the tall stranger whoae character had now become much nnon mysterious and alarming to her than that of the ghost itself.
The fortnight following was a busy one at • the inn. News of the ghost, filtering into the small towns around, returned as an overflow of guests. Though the tall man of the nim- ble legs stayed on, he seemed to iiave post- poned further investigations for the time being. His "manager" arrived in due course, yet what there was about him to manage did not appear. Nora, howevefi had her suspicions, which grew the darker after she overheard him remark in the man- agerial ear:
"Don't be in too much of a hurry, Jim. This bubble is such a money-maker that I hate to break it — on the girl's account."
The "Don," as the sj)ecter was soon. named, performed with sufficient regularity to keep interest at fever pitch, but not so frequently as to become a commonplace. In fact, he behaved like a prima donna who permits herself to have an occasional cold. Reporters arrived from distant points. Nora cooked them her finest meals, O'Sullivan treated them to his best Irish whiskies — after which weird and wonderful accounts of the "(ih-^j^at O'Sullivan's Inn" appeared in their respv^vLA^e papers. It began to look as if the inn would have to be ^odarged to hold its prosperity. The wolf which had howled so long before the door put his tafl between his legs and slunk away.
Nevertheless, Nora was not happy. And the cause of her imhappiness was the tall Stranger. Her suspicions concerning him
had been made a certainty. The second week of his slay a gay aittomoliilc party recognized and hailed him as Archie (ior- don. And even Nora knew who Archiliuld (lordon, the famous runner, was.
During the next week Nora anxiously tried many little subterfuges to get (Gordon away from the inn. But the runner had made up his mind to stay and it would have been as hard to dislodge him from the inn as
til Iicat liini in a rufc. Not even llic auU>- miiliilc parties, nuw sci mmnum, which shmvcreil him witli invilatimis inr alluring trips, nor the contemplated arrival of Madame Cheriljinm, iheci'Iehratcii medium, with a .U■k■^;ati.m of Ui.iits from [he S.»iety (or the Advancement of the Siudy c.f rsyehic I'henomena, whom he openly siorned not even these thiiiKs Millice.l li.Vfmove liim. It was the l's)'ihic Stuieiy which precipi-
54
The Ghost of the Afanaden
Uted the catastrophe that Nora feared. Madame Cheribimo, accompanied by four ladies, arrived at the imi on the appointed day in time for dinner. During the meal, Mrs. Graham, president of the Psychic So- ciety, closely questioned Nora and her father about the apparition in the field and carefully noted down their answers in a little book.
Gordon and hb trainer, who had sat apart in skeptic and tmsociable silence during the dinner, finished eating first and lounged down the road in the direction of the haunted field.
At last Madame Cheribimo, after eating tremendously, heaved a sigh of surfeiture and declared herself in a condition to enter into communication with the ethereal spirits of another world. Led by Nora the esoteric party set forth.
'*It is our belief explained Mrs. Graham to Nora as they walked along the road, "that the poor unhappy spirit who is seen m this field is in great peril!"
"Faith, m'am" said Nora with a sigh, "there's much in what ye say!"
"This unfortunate spirit" continued the lady earnestly, "must have been in desper- ate need indeed to commit auto-manifes- tation."
"Sore nade, m'am" agreed Nora, and she thought of the gueslless inn and the de- pleted larder of a fortnight before.
"It is our intention to have Madame Cheribimo go into a trance, and while in that condition draw this suffering spirit to her and learn the cause that brings it back to the world again after a whole century. We have looked up the old Spanish criminal records and we found that tonight would be the exact night that, one hundred years ago, the noble Spaniard, Don Teodoro de Villavicencio, was murdered. Therefore, we thought it a propitious moment for Madame Cheribimo to communicate with his spirit."
They were now opposite the haunted field and Nora stopped and silently pointed to it. The runner and his manager were already there, leaning against the fence that divided field and road, talking and laughing in low tones. Nora looked at them and a little shiver of uneasiness passed over her.
Madame Cheribimo chose a soft spot, well padded with pine-needles, sat down with her back to a tree trunk, and composed herself to await the appearance of the ghostly visi- tant before allowing the trance to descend upon her. Her disciples grouped themselves about her.
A quarter of an hour passed in silence. Gordon and his manager whispered, laughed, yawned. The gifted Madame Cheribimo, after her heavy dinner, tempted by the piny softness of her couch, let her eyelids drop gently and slowly over her black eyes; the ladies of the Psychic Society stared as if hypnotized into the shadowy field and every now and then one of them shivered, as much from cold as from anticipation, for the weather had suddenly changed and the night was growing raw. Nora also stared with painful interest, first at the field, then at the world-famous runner. He had told her that he was going to leave in the morning, and tonight there was something resolute and menacing in his attitude. She hoped against hope that Tim would not appear. She decided to wait a few minutes longer to make the thing appear natural, then suggest that, as the conditions were not good and the weather was bad, they try again the follow- ing night.
She turned to say the words that should start them back toward the inn. At that instant she heard a soft .simultaneous gasp from the ladies of the Psychic Society; she saw the runner and his manager, who had been leaning lazily over the fence, straighten up; she caught a glimpse of the startled, still half-sleepy eyes of Madame Cheribimo.
"(), wirra, wirra" .she said softly, "couldn't ye have stayed away for wance?"
A per\'erse spirit seemed to animate the apparition of the noble Spaniard. Instead of keeping his distance as a modest ghost should, he drew nearer and nearer to the road.^ When he was within twenty-five yards of the watchers he stopped and began flitting from right to left, coquetting with the moonlight and shadow.
Suddenly Gordon's lithe body hurled it- self over the fence and darted at the white figure in the field. The astounded ghost bad not an extra second to divest himself of his shroud-like garment. He took to his heels, draped as he was, and ran as he had never run when he gained all the prizes at the Ballv Tvre fairs.
After the first few moments the trees shut off pursuer and pursued from the view of the excited audience in the road. Nora stood speechless, with clasped hands and pound- ing heart. The ladies of the Society for tbe Advancement of the Study of Paydik Phenomena gathered in a compact n around the chubby Madame ChaiT
Stella Wynne Herron
55
On their faces was a sort of outraged be- wUderment.
Gordon's manager turned to Xora with a confident smile.:
"I think this field'll be haunted no morel"
"Sir" said Mrs. Graham, *'your — er — friend has spoiled our seance."
"Never mind, madam, he'll bring back the ghost himself."
"You aire meestaken, sair" said Madame Cheribimo, speaking up for the first time, "ze speerit of thees Spanish gentleman weel navaire allow heemseK to be capture'. He weel dee-mee-terialize ! Like zati" And she snapped her plump fingers.
Hardly were the words spoken, when, as if in confirmation of them, Gordon came out from among the trees — alone. He joined the group in the road in gloomy silence. His manager turned toward him eagerly:
"Well, where is he?"
The runner shrugged his shoulders.
"He didn't beat you running, man?" cried the astounded trainer.
"No, not that! I almost had him when — well — he disappeared! Not like he did be- fore. I was on to that — but — well — this was different." And again the uneasy, uncertain look that Nora had noticed came into the runner's eyes.
"You see" cried Madame Cheribimo. "WTiat deed I tell you? Zat noble Spaniard make heemseF to dee-mee-terialize I"
"Td have bet mv last dollar that you could have caught any man living, Gordon" said the puzzled manager.
'^Living!** said Mrs. (iraham, and while the triumphant ring of the word still sounded on the night air she gathered hvv esoteric brood under her wing and started down the road toward the inn. The masculine con- tingent, discountenanced skeptics, followed after, and last of all, walking thoughtfully by herself, came Nora.
By the time she reached the inn all the ghost-hunters had gone to their rooms. She locked the door and sat down by the dying fire. The night had turned very cold and the wind had risen. She raised the ( urtains on a couple of the windows. If Tim ( ame he would be able to look in and see that she was still up and alone. And he must come — he must know how worried she would be after what happened! Well — but whv didn't he?
The old clock boomed out a single solemn stroke that re-echoed through the silent inn.
Nora jumped up, threw a shawl over her head and stole out.
The moon was lost behind a dull purple cloud-mass that threatened imminent rain. The free ends of her shawl blew out straight, then wrapped themselves around her throat. She took an old lantern from under the steps and with its meager beams to guide her faced the night.
Before she crossed the inn yard the first heavy warm drops of rain had pitted the dust of the road. She held the lantern high and shielded it as best she could with an end of her shawl. The wind whipped wet strands of hair across her eyes; it wrapped her skirts so tightly around her legs that she could hardly move, then blew them out in great billowing ma.sses like sails puffed with wind.
She bent her head and kept going at a dogged, even pace until she reached the haunted field. She climbed the fence and pushed straight ahead into the thick dark- ness of the trees. The rain poured down in long slant lines; the trees moaned and bent beneath the battering of the wind; ever\' leaf and twig of shrubbery was in quivering motion and added its crackling, tlultering or breaking to the uproar. The woods seemed animate with some monstrous life of its own, demoniac and terrible. Nora called aloud:
''Tim! Tim!" and the thin thread of her human voice cutting into the great voice of the night came back to her strange and un- real. "Sure" she muttered, '* 'tis on such a night real ghosts walk — an' the Spaniard who buried his treasure in these woods is dead these hundred years tonight I I hope he's not fond of kapein' anniversaries!"
She went forward again, flashing the thin ])eam of her lantern to right and left.
*'Tim — Tim — Tim, darlin' "
There was a lull in the wind. In the whispering mysterious silence which fell on the forest Xora was more afraid than she had been in all the uproar. A dripping branch touched her cheek gently, like a groping hand. As she stei)ped aside, a sound which was neither of wind nor trees seemed to rise out of the earth beneath her feel. She le:iped back. The light in her shaking hand wavered like a will-o'-the-wisp.
"Come, come, Xony" she whispered, "there was niver an ( )'Sullivan born that was a coward."
She turned the lantern slowlv in everv direction. The light showed nothing but the
56
The Ghost of the Ahnaden
rain-beaten grass — except the dump of bushes next to which she had been standing. She picked up a long stick and thrust it into these bushes. It struck nothing solid.
As she stood holding her dripping lantern aloft, staring at the black mass of matted leaves and branches, the sound came again. This time there could be no mistake. It issued straight out of the clump of bushes. For a moment Nora's blood froze within her veins. But there comes a stage in every emotion when it is incapable of further stim- ulus and a reac;^ion must take place. She suddenly passed from acute fear to acute anger. Her damp cheeks flushed and her eyes darkened.
"Livin' or dead, ghost or no ghost, FU have no wan pokin' fun at me in the middle o' the night!"
She took the ring of the lantern in her teeth, and thrusting downward with her stick and tearing the bushes apart with her free hand forced her way into them. When she was almost at the center, the stick sud- denly went down into nothingness. Nora saved herself only by madly grasping the bushes. The lantern fell and went out. And, as she crouched in the thick darkness amongst the wet leaves, for a third time the sound came from the depths beneath her.
"Speak*' she said in a quivering voice, "are ye livin' or dead?"
"Dead" came a faint voice from the l)ow- els of the earth, "dead an' descended into the Black Pit fer me sins! Is that me own Nony? O, wirra, wirra, an' are ye here, too, acushla?"
Nora gave a joyful cr>':
"Tim, Tim, is it yerself? Where are ye? Are ye hurt, lad?"
"I'm kilt entirely!"
"How far down do ye think ye are?"
"A mile, at least" said Tim with convic- tion.
"O darlin' " said Nora soothingly, "your voice don't sound so far away. Sure, I don't think you're that far off."
"I am! I am that!" said Tim petulantly. "Whin I was runnin' from that murderin' villain, the ground suddenly opened an' I wint through. Thin me head split open, an' after that I wint down, down, down until I grew dizzy an' lost all track o' things. Sure, I knew nothin' at all till I heard steps walkin' above, an' I thought ^I'm dead an' those are livin' people walkin' over me grave.' "
Nora's hand groped around in the wet leaves until it came in contact with the lan- tern. She managed to light it, and then she saw that the dark jagged hole which yawned in front of her was no natural cavity but had been dug by human hands. The decayed earth-covered boards which roofed it had yielded to the weight of the running Tim, when in the darkness he crashed in among the bushes. Then the close-growing branches met over the hole and completely hid it from view.
Nora lowered the lantern over the edge. About eight feet down, at the bottom of a square pit-like hole, lay the white-clad huddled-up form of Tim. Nora clambered over the edge, jumped and barely avoided landing on the recumbent Tim. The space was narrow but she managed to raise the ex-ghost to his feet. He stood leaning dizzily against the side of the pit.
"There's a fearful buzzing in me head" he said, touching a .spot where the skin bulged into a great lump.
"There's a bump as big as a turkey egg an' as red as fire! Ye must have landed on something pretty hard to have raised that!"
"There's what I hit on" and Tim pointed to a huge clod of earth. "The murderin' thing" he added, with a sudden flash of anger, "Fll break it to pieces!" He swimg his foot and hit the lump as hard a kick as his weakness would allow. A duU metallic sound and a cr}' of pain from Tim rang out simultaneously.
"Sure, it's a quare piece o' dirt that isl" And Nora knelt down and began scraping away with her lingers on the lump. The hanl-caked soil fell away and a dull greenish gleam of corroded metal shown through the dirt.
"It's a metal l>ox" said Nora in a tone of awe. *'I can't budge it an inch!"
"Tve a jack-knife" said Tim. Together they worked, alternately using the knife and their naked hands to scoop away the damp dirt from around the box. At last Tim with a sudden tug lifted it free. They tried to open it, but the lock, although rusted, held strongly.
* 'We'll take it home with us" said Nora, her checks burning with excitement.
"It's as hea\7 as lead. We can't get both it an' ourselves out o' this black hole."
Nora picked up the ghost-robe which had slipped of! Tim. She began tearing off 1* pieces. These she knotted finnlj togd
then fastcnc'i lUir cinl uf ihi- inijiruvivcii rope TniliT tlic Kri'ii onroiiiii iiii'lul of the lid
1(1 the iiU'Uil rin^iii ih.' i.>[>ufiln' I.ik. Tin; was a |iiea- nf lin. cut I.. lU the Iiox. Tim loosf cn.l sli,- li;iii.l,a I,, [Ini. itwiTlv.I a knife hUi.I,- uniliT iN ivltic ami
•■Taki- [liis u[. «ilh >>■ ;in- we'll .Iraa the lirie<l il oul, rn-l.-r il «as a |iie.i- ..f s..fl Ihix u[) after were uiii," leatiier, liu!i;inK "n' irreuularh- .leer whal it
n:ilf an li.mr laier iliev -I I, l.realhle,^ o.veml an/| iii<kc<i .|.,wii e:,refuilv ar..und
an.l .iri[.|'iii>;. it'e h,.-y l.eivv.-.n lliem. in rile tile e.l;;e- <.f llie l"i\. S.t.i in her eaf;ernt-ss
inn kit. hen. Tim lip .1 L. a ilrawer ami jerke.i it .>(i.
tmikuut a liamnier. There liiml.le.l ni i ihe kil. hen ll.u.r ;i
■■Wail" >ai.| N.-ra; "v.rap i! in ilii^ L.wel ^uM .n—. an' tile hluws v.uri'i M.uiul „. l,,ie|. slrik.r aisv. Ma. Ian, e i l„iilni.i.,'~ r... just almve us ^ui- «<■ iiiD-tu'i ,ii-.iur swatf <ireain>.-
Tim siruik lliti-e li|i>n. «i'h ilii -■a hammer, ami iliree iniiiiled nui^illi, SOUnclcl. At llie lliir.l lil'nv ilu ..].'. yielded.
Nora knell <i-\\n l..-.i.le lin.. ,.i, gcther. wilh Iremliliii;; liaii.l-, ih.v i Ihe lid.
|
Min:j linger-. |
'Ih.ri ill ~ |
Heme, l.r. |
.llllle>-lv, |
|
tluyllinJ-Mlie |
ir h.iii.N in |
i..thel".\ |
andi.-ik -a Utile |
|
hr,.«n l,aK it. |
iiU! pie. e aver li'iiik |
.Uiid'in 111 |
.-l..-.UMf |
|
Mi\,r ua- 'i.-l. 1 -.n-li- .iiier |
l.ya'lla'-',' ini liih ..f |
-.il.l'-el |
|
|
ali'i~er,ii-[ |
line-: uvii |
||
|
n,u«l,)yi«.li,h |
e.! Mevi.a |
n ..jiaU: a |
n.s.tn- ..r |
S8
1 he Ghost of the Almaden
peark imperfectly matched, with a silver cross at the end; a picture of a bishop in his robes, set in a frame crusted with jewels; a buckle made of a single amethyst, such as might be used to fix a feather in a hat or confine a cloak; two cameos cut out of pale Italian coral; a pair of heavy silver spurs; three plates of unalloyed gold car>'ed in a barbarous pattern and so soft that they bore finger dents; a bag in which there were two hundred Spanish gold coins.
At the very lx)ttom of the box there was a jeweled badge and beside it, in a little bundle by itself, a handkerchief of filmy Spanish drawn work within which was a flower, which as Nora took it out turned to powdery brown dust in her hand.
The yellow light from the oil lamp flickered on all these treasures laid out on the well-scrubbed kitchen floor. It struck a dull rich glow from the gold, a moonlight gleam from the silver, and now and then a flash from a jewel. And somehow these things, taken from the damp earth in which they had lain so long, bore an aroma of old courtly days, of love in distant Spanish cities, of soft Andalusian nights, of the dim interiors of great cathedrals, of mad adven- tures in the Spanish colonies of America.
Nora took up the jeweled badge from the bottom of the box and held it to the light. She read aloud the words engraved upon it:
DON TEODORO DE VILLAVICENCIO EL CAVALLERO DE CROIX
1785.
"Don Teodoro de Villavicencio" she re- peated in a whisper; "that^s the name Mrs. Graham called the ghost by! Tim, this's the treasure you've been hauntin' ! The treasure he was murdered for!"
Nora looked at the yellowed handkerchief and at the dust of the flower that had bloomed so long ago, and the tears began to fall. Tim looked at her in consternation.
"Why, Nony, are ye cr}'in' — an' all these riches spread before ye?'*
"Sure — I know, His proud an' happy I ought to be — but I can't help thinkin' o' that poor young Spanish gentleman. See, he put this little handkerchief an' this flower away with all his treasures ! " She held out her hand and, her knowledge encompassing the years, said: "Ye see — they were like us."
"Sure, darlin*, they were" said Tim, drawing her to him. For a few moments they remained silent. Then Tim sighed and said :
"If I'd 'a known more about that young Spaniard, sure I'd be the last man in the world to be his ghost."
At his words the spell of the past was broken. Nora laughed and jumped to her feet.
"Tim, Tim" she cried, lifting the curtain and looking out upon a world which was changing from black to gray, "the dawn's comin^ Let's put the things back an' hide the chest in the big box over by the stove that I keep the kindlin' in. Nobody ever opens it but meself."
"Now we must run" said Tim, when they had carefully placed the last piece of kind- ling, "or your father'U find us here, wet an* drippin'. I'll tell him tomorrow how, as I was walkin' back from the city where I could find no work, I lost me way, fell into a black hole an' found the chest. Sure, he'll believe it, an' we nade niver tell him about the ghost walkin' — ^fer he'd niver understand it!"
The next morning Gordon and his man- ager left the inn early. Not so the ladies of the Society for the Advancement of the Study of Psychic Phenomena. They slept late and breakfasted at ten. They seemed strangely excited.
"How is your daughter this morning?" asked Mrs. Graham of old O' Sullivan, who was waiting on the table.
"She has a fearful cold, but sure, she'll let no wan but herself so much as peep into the kitchen. Me s^m-in-law came back last night from the city, an' he's laid out, too. In the rain an' black dark he fell in a hole and cracked his head open. He's in bed with poultices to it, but I ixpcct him up soon. I'm glad he's come because now he can see the ghost with his own eyes. He told me he didn't believe there was iny at all, an' that we was all bewitched."
At this point Nora entered.
"Is it the ghost you're talkin' of?" she asked.
"Yes, Miss O'Sullivan" said Mrs. Gra- ham, "we've had a strange adventure during the night! Last night, after the mysterious ending of our excursion to the field, we decided to hold a seance in Madame Cheri- bimo's room. We tried for hours to mate- rialize the spirit of the unfortunate Spaniard, but unsuccessfully. Then Madame Cheri- bimo had a vision — "
"Ye-es, I hav' zat veesion" said Madame Cheribimo decidedly.
Japan and the United States
59
"In which she called aloud and asked that if the soul of the Spaniard were at peace some sign might be vouchsafed us — and at that moment three metallic muffled raps arose oiU of the air beneath us! The Span- iard's soul is at peace and his spirit will no longer haunt the field!"
"Sure, I've no doubt youVe correct" said Nora, "although not specially gifted, I've somethin' the same feelin' meself!"
After breakfast the automobile in which the ladies of the Psychic Society had come drove up to the door of the inn. Just before they started Mrs. Graham turned to Nora and said:
"I shall never forget the psychic expe- riences I've had at this inn. Come and visit our society, Miss O'Sullivan" she added graciously, "when you come to the city. You seem to take an intelligent interest in spirits."
"I'm that friendly to thim, ye couldn't believe it" said Nora with a happy smile.
She was still smiling when the automobile was only a black s[>eck in the distance, and when the inn door opened and her father and Tim, with a bandaged head, appeared. She saw at once by the excitement in the old man's eyes that Tim had told him of their fortune.
She turned toward them and taking a hand of each said:
"An' now that the guests have gone, let us go in an' discuss the future o' the wealthy O'Sullivan an' O'Malley families." -
"Sure" said Tim, slipping his arm around her waist, " 'tis only wan plan I'll be discussin' at all — ^an' that's how to make Nora O'Sullivan Mrs. O'Malley in the quickest time possible! That is" he added in a whisper, "if she's willin' to be the bride of a ghost."
Japan and the United States
By Davio Starr Jordan
The president of Stanford University recently returned from a visit to Japan, where he delix*- ered a series of lectures on the subject of international peace awl ivorld-disarnuiment. 'I hefol- lowing article is Dr. Jordan's latest ivord on a subject oj especial interest to the Pacific Coast:
ONCE, with a Japanese friend, I ^ visited the island which scpa- I rates the hay of Tokyo from f the ocean. ( )n this poninsuhi is an ancient fort, as fantastic in shape as a mcKlern drcadnaught. "This," said my friend, "was the means by which old Japan trie<l to shut out the rush of Kuro- pean civilization." Hut civilization did not come in over the fort. It passed it hy as a negligible quantity. It is thus the type of all great movements of the future.
The western civilization came to Japan, not by force of arms, but by the power of brotherhood and of trade. These two are the forces of the future, lirinj^in*^ and binding the nations together, while war, the tumul- tuous destruction of men in the mass, is a relic of medieval bari)arism.
And trade itself is but a form of brother- hood. In the long run, like a flowing river,
it purifies itself. Commerce cannot last un- less it is honest. 'I'rickery is death to trade, and it is efjually essential to the life of com- merce that both parties to it should l)e gain- ers. We cannot sell to China unless China has money to buy with, and this money she can only get by having something to sell. The "Yellow Peril" may ])erhaps be found in an armed and therefore bankrupt China. It is found alreadv in a China in which e.x- tortion and bad government make it im- possible for Chinamen to make a decent living. \ self-res|)ecting, justly governed nation, large or small, cannot be a peril to anylxKly.
In one respect our present civilizatitm is singularly topsy-turvy. The dominant note of life is trade. Commerce brings the na- tions together. It induces mutual respect. It cements friendship. As Franklin ol)- served long ago, it hurts trade **to hit our
6o
Japan and the United States
customers on the head." So the aggregate effect of trade is toward peace and justice among the nations. With this goes the feel- ing of brotherhood. In every land, mission- aries fearlessly cross the turbulent frontiers, carrying the best of our civilization freely to those in need of it. International con- ferences and world-congresses in every con- ceivable public interest are held by the hundred each summer. And these serve, whatever else be their, purpose, to promote mutual understanding and the spirit of peace.
With all this the money actually spent on munitions of war grows by leaps and bounds. It is admitted that for economic and for social reasons war among the great nations is now impossible. Amazing progress is made in arbitration and in treaties giving better and better machinery for peaceful settlement of international differences. These differences themselves are being re- duced to trifles, mostly not worthy of a second thought on the part of civilized peo- ples. Yet the expenditures in behalf of suspicion and hatred are growing as never before.
In the United States today 73 per cent of all the national expenditures goes to one or another of the war accounts. In most of the nation^ of Europe the expenditures for civil purposes are relatively negligible, while thousands of millions of dollars are charge- able each year to the war account.
"A more ironic situation" says Zangwill, "has never been presented in human history. ***** For whereas in the contest be- tween Church and Camp it was simple enough to shelve the Sermon on the Mount, in the contest between Commerce and Camp both factors are of equal greatness. In the ancient world there has been the same strug- gle for supremacy, but the Babylonians or the Egyptians did not build up each other^s greatness. The Romans did not lend money to the Carthaginians, nor did Hannibal sell the Romans elephants. But in this era the nations fight by taking up one another's war-loans. In lulls of peace they build for one another the ships they would presently be bombarding one another with. The ancient mistress of the world never devel- oped a country until it belonged to Rome. The rival mistresses (of today) are all en- gaged in developing countries which be- longed to their rivals, or to which they may one day themselves belong. In brid, two
threads of sodal evolution have got tangled up and tied into a knot, so that neither thread can be followed clearly. It is death to give away your country's fortifications to another country, but an easy life to con- tribute to the strengthening of the other country's fortifications — at a percentage. No sooner have you devastated your enemy's country than you lend him money to build it all up again. In vain shells hiss and dynamite explodes. The stockbroker fol- lows ever on the heels of the soldier and the grass of new life (and new loans) springs up over the blackened ruins. Indeed, na- tions, instead of being extinguished in the struggle for political existence because they are too weak to pay their debts, have to be kept artificially alive in order to pay them." The secret of all this contradiction, the expenditure of millions to promote co-opera- tion among nations, and of millions at the same time to promote mutual destruction, lies in this. The Unseen Empire of Finance is working both sides. It looks after com- merce and armament alike. It plays no favorites. Its business is to "absorb" and to "adjust" the debts of the nations. The house of Rothschild long ago succeeded the house of Bonaparte as the arbiter of the fortimes of Europe. It will equip a king with the paraphernalia of royalty all complete, from a dozen superdreadnaughts to a golden crown and a German silver scepter. There is nothing like a battleship for playing the games of diplomacy, espe- cially that of blind man 's-buff, to which ama- teur kings are especially addicted. All this is given for a modest percentage paid in ad- vance, the national bonds going for what- ever they are worth when they have passed the gauntlet of the minor bulls and bears owned by the unseen empire. This unceen empire is ready to build a railway to Bagdad in the interests of civilization, if Germany will police it. It will build a railway across Siberia on similar terms. It will loan its money to Russia to the limit of $5,000,000,- 000, and it will loan to Japan at the same time lo the lower limit of $1,300,000,000. When these limits are reached the white dove of peace must naturally find a perch. Allied to the unseen empire of the Roths- childs and their associates there is another agency, more subde, and in its way more powerful, because always directed to one end. This is the Armament Syndicate in the various nations, with its allies, conscious
David Starr Jordan
6i
and unconscious. Working always for war expenditure b the group of militarists pure and simple, most of them the world over desirous of exalting their trade. Then come the jingoes and aristocrats, generally, junk- ers, lords and lordlings, anxious to thwart the plans of democracy and favoring every- thing that makes for pomp, glory and cir- cumstance as against internal reforms and civic improvements. Next come the mil- lions of men directly or indirectly interested in war or war preparations. Perris of London estimates that one man in every six in Great Britain belongs to this class, forming unconsciously a huge auxiliar>' of the great war lobby. Even trade-unions, in spite of their hatred of war, are easy allies of the armament trust. Finally we have the conscious lobby itself, the body of **strong, silent men," in the pay of the Krupp, Vickers, Whitworth and other syndicates who permeate Europe and whose ambassa- dors are potent **in every court from Argen- tina to Mozambique."
These men are not working for war. Their business is not war but the selling of war goods. They often claim to be the real leaders of peace. They would have the nations so hea\'ily armed and so deeply in debt that they cannot move without ex- plosion. Therefore they will not move against each other, though they may be allowed at times to hunt (iown some wild squirrel of a nation, like Albania or Morocco, which may have thus far escaped the benev- olent assimilation of the money-lending trust.
In the nations it controls, big business will not tolerate real war which is a destroyer of credit, but it does not oppose the waste of the people's money in extravagant arma- ment, pledged to prevent war through its crushing load of debt. Business has killed war, but war-debt is the basis of European credit.
It is recognized in Europe that the arma- ment men are largely responsible for jingo patriotism and for war scares. It is in their interest alone that England must have twice as much "sea-power" as any other nation has. It is in their interest alone that Oer- many demands as much ' 'sea-power" as England has. From their activity arise these periodical scares that come over Eng- land, the fear of invasion, the dread of starvation, the story that Germany is about to seiie HoU 'A military opera-
tions. On the other hand, the specter of the Panslav Union against Germany, the im- minent revenge of France and possible dire happenings to Germans over seas furnish the stock in trade for war scares in Germany. It is true that Germany is not so easily scared as England, but it is also true that a small scare goes further. The spirit of medievalism is stronger in Germany than in England or in France.
It is hard to trace the origin of war scares in America. This we know: the Powder Trust and the Armament Svndicates, with their allies in patriotism and militarism, are in full evidence in Washington. A Powder Trust senator is chairman of our committee on military expenditures, and preposterous stories in the interest of greater armament often appear in our press despatches.
We are told that 200,000 Japanese could, without base of supplies, land in the dark and seize and hold all the territor}' west of Denver, Santa P'e and Spokane.
We are told that Japan is in alliance with Mexico, and that someone has seen a secret treaty, whereby the barren and waterless coast of Magdalena bay, suitable for target practice only (there is not even a jack-rabbit there to be hit), is assigned as a coaling station to Japan. We are told of huge dreadnaughts secretly constructed in Japan or for Japan's use, in spite of the fact that *'in the budget of the Japanese minister of finance there is includc*<i an appropriation for the next six years of the sum of forty millions of dollars for naval expansion, which is between six and seven millions annually."
We are told of dangers arising from the naval and military ambition of Japan, a nation with less than half our population and less than 1-12 our wealth and burdened *wilh a war debt of $1,311,334,598.
In London, I heard from a well-known journalist, the story of a reporter who had lately visited the Pacific slope, and who found that in every village there were two or more Japanese — evidently soldiers in disguise, and ready at a signal to rise and seize the countrv. I was able to confirm this and to say that every decent town had also one or more Englishmen, doubtless also in the secret, ready to rise on signal in de- fense of England's nrw ally. All this would be supremely foolish, save that at the leading diplomatic centers of the continent the im- pending war on the Pacific is constantly
62
Japan and the United States
under discussion. If talk could make war, they would surely bring it on. Nothing would be more acceptable to some types of continental diplomatists than a war which would at once wipe ofiF the slate the richest nation in the world, and at the same time obliterate the one self-governing and alert nation of Asia. The same diplomatists have been sure that the United States means at once to devour Mexico and that the Japanese encourage the plague in Manchuria in order to vex the Russians.
Now what are the grievances which sepa- rate Japan and the United States? On our side we have absolutely none. The Fur Seal matter, which was remotely moving toward the grievance stage, has been settled by a treaty just to all concerned. In matter of emigration, Japan has been always willing to do whatever we wish, so long as our \\'ishes are expressed in terms of mutual respect. The governor of the Japanese province of Rikuzen once said to me: "Japan is like a country boy who has come to town and finds many things which are new and strange. This boy finds in America an eider brother who can give true advice and honest help in all the difficulties of the new situation, while any wish of America if understood in Japan will be gratefully respected."
On the other hand, Japan has not the shadow of a grievance against us. P'reedom of speech is recognized on both sides. Foolish people in America denounce Japan, and some people less foolish form their opinion of a great nation from some tricky servant or from the careless talk of some irresponsible drummer. On the other hand, the waterfront journals of Yokohama or Tokyo sometimes present unflattering por- traits of Uncle Sam. Making faces at each other across national boundaries has been a common amusement so long as nations have existed. It has no international signifi- cance. It is true that bills aimed at the Japanese have been presented at every meeting of the legislatures of the Pacific Coast. Most of these were unconstitutional and all of them have been voted down. They are therefore no concern of Japan.
Believing, in the words of Baron Makeno, "We can only go wherever we are welcome," and being advised that unrestricted emigra- tion of laborers to America would bring about friction, Japan, of her own accord, in 1899 prohibited such emigration. This
•on has been extended later, but it b true
that no laborers from Japan have come to California for twelve years. From Hawaii, many have come, but these are no longer Japanese citizens, and not imder control of Japan.
The laborers of the Pacific Coast object to the immigration of Japanese and Chinese laborers mainly because these woric for lower wages. There are other objections; the Japanese are clannish, and Uiey are ambitious; they prefer to go into business on their own account rather than to be per- manently on wages. Some of them violate their contracts to the injury of fruit men dependent on them and some of them are bad neighbors. In other words there are among the Japanese the same varieties of men that we fmd among laborers of other races.
The general fact is, that there is no special prejudice against the Japanese or Chinese among competent judges on the Pacific Coast. There is, however, a very strong feeling that unlimited immigration from Asia would endanger the future of the coast states as self-governing democracies. There are only al>out five millions of men of Euro- pean origin in California, Oregon and Washington. It would be easy for as many Japanese and also as many Chinese to come to the coast, to the utter social and political confusion of the region. Whether wisely or not, the people of the coast are almost, not quite, a unit in fearing this result and in desiring in all honorable ways to prevent it. It is true, however, that the fruit and can- ning industries are practically dependent on Japanese or Chinese labor, and that in- creased numbers of both would be for the material advantage of California.
The school question in San F'rancisco has never deserved, from either side, the atten- tion given it. After the great fire of 1906, Chinatown no longer existed and the Chinese pul)lic school had scarcely any pupils left. It is understood that the teacher of this school asked that Japanese children be sent to her. This request the" school board granted, apparently without a thought of international complications. When it became clear that this act might constitute a violation of treaty agreements, the regula- tion was rescinded. The publicity of the whole thing was unfortunate, as in the first place there was apparently no thought of injustice to Japanese children. So far as Japanese students, merchants and artists are
Western Personalities
63
concerned, there has never existed any feel- ing against them, and there are at all times from twenty to forty Japanese students in each of the universities of California.
The truth is — there is not the ghost of a foundation for any of the talk about war with Japan. Japan is a nation of hard working people, very peaceful, very poor, very heavily taxed, with a huge war d^bt, and a very heavy burden in the control of Korea. Korea pays nothing back. Her impoverished lands are owned by Koreans, her forests have been destroyed through unthrift and her mines are in the hands of foreign companies. To Japan, Korea is valuable only as a buffer against Russian aggression. The rulers of Japan are saga- cious and cautious men, largely educated in American universities. The people of Japan everywhere feel toward America a peculiar, almost romantic gratitude. Our nation has been a friend and helper who has shown her good will in many ways, as in the return of the Shimonoseki indemnity and in the release of the treaty ports, Yokohama, Kobe, Nagasaki and Hakodate, from the foreign jurisdiction, so long burdensome to Japan. It was America, who, in 1854, first opened Japan to the activities of the West and furnished the occasion for the
downfall of the outworn feudal system and the dual rule of Shogun and Mikado. It was America who led in the establishment of the Japanese public school system and in the foundation of the great Imperial Uni- versity at Tokyo. A few hotheads interested in stirring up trouble, on either side, count for nothing in matters of international im- port. The growth of Japanese manufacture and commerce means the growth of trade for us. The better off our neighbors are the better customers they make. To say that Japan and the United States must fight for control of the sea as some of our armament promoters have insisted, is the height of folly. No nation can control the sea beyond the three-mile limit. There is nothing to fight over and nothing is settled when the fight is done. The lanes of traffic can never be closed unless by superior skill in compe- tition. Sea-power has nothing to do with this. The sea is open to every comer and there is room on the Pacific ocean for a thousand merchant ships where one now exists. The Pacific will be the scene of the great economic deeds of the twentieth cen- tury, but they will be deeds of peace and constructive policy. In face of these deeds "Sea-Power" will disappear, its prestige to be recorded among the nightmares of history.
Western Personalities
The Man Who
HERCULES was some consider- able person in his day and age and the books say that the biggest job he ever did was to clean out the Augean Stables. Just dug a little ditch and turned the river Slyx — or some other purling stream — in at one door and out of another and let it do the work. But old Here's job was mere infant play compared to what San Francisco faced a few years back when the doctors said there was bubonic plague in the city. San Fran- cisco had to dean o.it five thousand stables and most of them co^r lared pretty favorably with the Augean bams too! San Frap'^*
did it, though, and pulled down seventeer hundred insanitary outbuildings to boot And there wasn't any river Styx (verify namt of river by consulting Who's Who on (Olym- pus) in San Francisco to help in the job. Moreover, San Francisco did it in four months and killed every rat in the city in that lime. Imagine getting rid of all the rats in four months and vou'U have some idea of the job. There wasn't any plague panic either. Ever>'thing was done quietly and orderly and when the job was finished Sur- geon (leneral Waller Wyman said San Francisco was the cleanest citv in ihe world. And Wyman is a stickler for cleanliness.
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Western Personalities
The Hercules that turned the trick was Charles C. Moore, just now engaged in directing the preparations for the Panama- Pacific International Exposition, the big world's show to be held in San Frandsco in 191 5. Only a few people knew Charlie Moore at that time, but they knew him so well that they just naturally turned the job over to him and then turned in and helped him. Everyone who turns any job over to Charlie Moore turns in and helps. That's the way Moore does business; that's the way he gets things done — by getting people to take off their coats and pitch in and help. He says it's not real work and that the others deserve the credit, but just the same he's always on the job himself a long while after the rest have glanced at the clock and gone home to supper. Ask anyone who's engaged in helping him and you'll be told he's doing all the work.
Moore was known to the people who turned over the barn-cleaning job to him chiefly on account of his work in the San Francisco chamber of commerce. The body was comparatively inactive before he be- came a member. He organized a few com- mittees and went out and did things while the rest were passing resolutions about them and after he had been at it a year they made him president. "If I take the job, will you help me?" he asked the nominating com- mittee when they put it up to him. "Sure" they replied. They had made promises just like that before. But making a promise to Charlie Moore is another thing again, as Abe Potash would say. Every mother's son of them was reminded of that promise time and time again and Moore's little organiza- tion in the chamber of commerce became known as "Moore's Flying Squadron." It did things too; more things than had been done by any commercial body in San Fran- cisco in years. Then Moore got all the war- ring development boards in San Francisco to quit their quarreling and go to fighting — fighting for San Francisco. They formed a compact organization. It worked fine, and so Moore extended the principle and got all the boosting organizations in the western states together. He's great on getting peo- ple together. When he starts, they just naturally can't help getting in behind him, and that means stopping all the litde jeal- ousies and doing thini];s.
He thought that he'd retired from public life after he served his term as president of
the chamber of oommercey but then, that stable job came along and he jumped in and finished that and dien announced again that he'd retired. Whenever Mrs. Moore hears that announcement now, she smiles. But that's another story. San Francisco went in for a celebration of her wonderful rehabilitation from the ruins of the Great Fire of 1906 and incidentally of the expe- dition to San Francisco bay made way back in the dark ages by a Spanish gentleman called Don Caspar Portola. Everyone was so busy getting his business in shape after the fire that no one took hold of the cele- bration. They turned to Moore again. The^ wished to get a few foreign battleships to visit San Francisco during the celebration as a crystallization of the sentiment for the "city loved around the world." "You get them," said the committee to Moore. "I will" answered Moore. And he did. He went to Washington to get an official invi* tation from the Government to the foreign powers to send battleships to the celebra- tion; because a municipality has no standing of course with foreign powers. He foimd Secretary of State Knox very much peeved; and Knox can get real peeved when he makes up his mind to it. Knox was peeved in this instance because there was some sort of a misunderstanding between Seatde and San Francisco about issuing an invitation to the Japanese Government for the commercial bodies of Japan to visit the Pacific Coast. "I'U fix that in forty-eight hours" said Moore. In a few hours he went back to Knox with the thing all straightened out. He and the telegraph companies know how it was done; but it was. So Knox said everything was hunky-dorie about the in- vitations and Moore went to Europe. After he'd been there a few days he discovered that the invitation sent out was no invitation at all. It said that the government of the United States had no part in the Portola celebration and assumed no responsibility in the matter. Of course that was true, and maybe the Government couldn't have said anything else. Anyhow it left Moore with no official standing. A municipality has no standing among foreign powers, of course. But Charles C. Moore has. He got it at the same time he got those battleships. Some few foreign potentates, not to mention ner- vous and fussy diplomats in the various capitals in Europe, know how he turned the trick. But they sent the battleships. Moor^
66
Western Personalities
went to Europe for that purpose. The ships crossed thousands of miles of water and burned tons of coal getting there.
Moore reached San Francisco two days before the Portola celebration was over. The ships were there in the harbor and the celebration was about the biggest thing of the kind that San Francisco had ever had. Moore had taken off twenty-five pounds in Europe and he again announced his retire- ment from public life. "Indeed you will," echoed Mrs. Moore, who had been along with her husband in Europe.
But then the Exposition came along and Moore just naturally had to postpone the retirement. The Exposition was in peculiar shape when Moore got home. It had been planned all right but the plan was lost. Moore had announced while he was in Eu- rope that San Francisco was going to hold the Exposition in 191 5 and he didn't propose to be made out a liar. He got things going, intending to step down and out when every- thing was started off smoothly. First there was a mass-meeting which selected a com- mittee of five. The committee of five named a committee of two hundred of San Fran- cisco's most prominent citizens to start the Fair. The committee of two hundred se- lected three men outside their number to pick thirty from the two hundred who should be the directors of the Exposition company. Pretty nifty scheme, that. Sounds like a real business man had planned it. He had. Moore's idea was to step down and out, but it failed from the start. The committee of five named at the mass- meeting was increased to six and Moore was named sixth member by acclamation from the floor. When the thirty directors were selected, he was one, of course, and when the directors elected a president of the company, he was elected, of course. He was in the East, then. He came back, but the directors were deaf to his protests. He was in pretty deep again. Then there came a question about who should be Director General of the Exposition. "There isn't going to be any Director General," an- nounced Moore. And there isn't. Instead there are six vice-presidents who are virtu- ally directors general; all experts in their line. They are under the general direction of Moore. Each man gets full credit for what he does. When he was a young man, Moore worked for a man who was not willing lat any of his lieutenants should get credit
for what they did, and Moore's plan of operation has been exacdy the opposite since. Moore wants the lieutenants to get all the credit. Then there was a question about patronage. Every director in the Exp>osidon company was besieged by friends. "There isn't going to be any patronage," announced Moore. And there isn't. Moore appoints the department heads and they ap« point their own subordinates and are responsible for the eflSciency of their offices. Every director is pledged not even to sug- gest any one for any position. Moore even suggested to the governor of the state that he hoped the state officials who have the administration of the money appropriated by the legislature for the Exposition would not want any patronage. The governor knew Moore and he willingly answered that they would not. You see, Moore's idea is to have an Exposition, not to make a lot of jobs for people who can't get jobs anywhere else.
Then there came a row about the site for the Fair. Every man who owned real estate in the outlying sections was after it. Moore picked a committee that settled the whole dispute. The whole city is to be the site, each section being utilized for what it is best suited. Golden Gate Park is not to be torn up; it is to be used to its best advantage and made an asset of the Fair. Of course, these rows were not real big rows. There isn't any real fight when Moore is at the helm. It's get together and work.
It's the same way in his business. The firm of C. C. Moore, Engineers, is known all over the United States. That's Moore's company. He made it himself. He was born in New York. His father was a pio- neer in California; owned big cattle ranches where some of the finest villas in the Santa Clara valley now stand and drove freight teams in the early days. Later he went into the tanning business, and the tanning firm of Porter & Moore was well known to old-timers. Then Moore, Sr., went to New York to get married and tarried there until Charles C. came along. Then he went back to California again. So Charles C. is really a pioneer. He went to school at Benicia and afterward to the St. Augustine College there — now de^' Moore graduated at the head of b" having taken all the medals for sc^ that were to be taken. He was not old then. After he quit college ^ work in the iron shops of the 0
Samuel M. Evans
67
dsco Tool Company. He worked in the shops and on the road and learned every- thmg there was to be learned about the busi- ness. The company took a contract to equip the old Piedmont cable-car road in Oakland. That was before the days of the electric railway. The road failed and the company lost so much money on it that the owners decided to shut up shop. Moore bought the plant. He had been studying electricity and knew what was coming. Soon the company of C. C. Moore, Engineers, began to put in electric power-plants all over the West. Moore employed the best engineers he could find and made them partners in his business. Now he has branch oflfices in Seattle, Port- land, Los Angeles, Spokane and other western cities and one in New York. When the San Francisco fire of 1906 came along, Moore was in New York. He didn't be- lieve the reports about the fire at first. Along in the afternoon he began to believe that things were in bad shape back home. His firm had contracts to install plants run- ning up into four million dollars, besides contracts for a lot of small machinery that totaled another half-million. Moore didn't want to lose those contracts. He went to a New York bank where his firm had a small account but where he was not known per- sonally. He asked for a loan of a hundred thousand dollars on his personal note. San Francisco was burning. The president of the bank asked for securities. Moore offered none: but he got the hundred thousand that afternoon. The next day several friends went to him with more money and asked him to use it. They didn't need security. They knew Charlie Moore. Moore went home with a wad in his satchel. He opened offices in his San Francisco residence and got busy as soon as the ground was cool enough to walk on, and every contract was filled. He got the work out without a single day's extension of time, too. Many of the companies wanted him to take a little extra time, but he wouldn't. When the year was over he found that after paying the fire loss and the extra cost of manufacturing the plants under adverse conditions he still had — -"- - little money. There were some
racts in that bunch, too. One
untington Electric Power-
1 California.
in Shore Railroad, that will
1 San Francisco to Santa
cific ocean, went broke,
Moore was one of the bondholders. It looked as though they were all going to lose their money. Moore got the bondholders together and formulated a plan to save the property. Ninety-four per cent of them came in on it the first day. When Moore gets anything started it is nearly always unanimous. The Ocean Shore is in pretty good shape today. It's making money and pushing construction ahead as though noth- ing had happened.
Besides his job as chairman of the Ocean Shore bondholders' committee, Moore is a director in the Anglo- California Trust Co., the California Insurance Co., and the West Coast Life Insurance Co. He is also inter- ested in several large eastern concerns through stock holdings.
He owns an orange grove in southern California and an olive grove which pro- duces some of the finest olives in California. His country-place at Santa Cruz, where Mrs. Moore and the three children keep him when they can steal him away from business, is one of the finest in the West. There is a stream running through the place and he raises rainbow trout. He has been more successful in raising trout than any other un-official person. University professors often visit his place to note the progress he has made. Just now he is planning to ex- tend his trout ponds — he has only ten thousand fish now — and at the same time raise artichokes for canning on the banks of the stream. No one has ever succeeded in canning artichokes for the market. But he will. He milked a cow when he was a boy at Benicia and if you ask him what his business interests are he will tell you that he is by nature a farmer. He loves cherries and grapes — especially grapes. At Santa Cruz he has the most wonderful golf course in the West and probably in the United States. It is a nine-hole course entirely cov- ered with lawn and whenever Mrs. Moore can get him away from business they play golf all day long. Both are good players.
Moore is a fine, big, upstanding citizen of the finest western type. He has a genius for organizing men. He possesses to a re- markable degree the faculty of reviving drooping spirits. He works hard and pla3rs wisely. He is afifable, democratic and ap- proachable. He is never so happy as when entertaining friends at his country home, feeding his fish and telling about his plans for planting out some of the ground. He
68
will talk V ccpt Charl what he h what othei prises whii tell it, his ] Besides both on li mobiles ar wind or g One is to Pacific Co golf score old.
r\
PLAIN becom
hilly and v ups and di Forty- 1" cottage in Market, ti Dolores — , his fist; iii Mrs. Jim ^ they are 1 Apropos ' quotation I Rolph III man in hi;
knows, he
A keep-i on-the-squ a make-n avoid -all-n proof clos" a suave su not- vain n
When p your-face your-back certainly a the primal over McCs ing major Francisco' and accon „
dates receiving a majority need not again be money to buy books and clothing. He was voted upon, Rolph was at once elected. His cash-boy, newsy, and even attempted to n< tenure is for four years and subject to the an amateur paper. The day he graduo recall, though in his case it is to laugh at from school he became office boy in that safeguard. shipping and commisdon house of KittI
70
Western Personalities
Company, where he rose rapidly to the posi- tion of cashier. In January, 1900, he went into a partnership with George U. Hind, and Hind, Roiph & Company have con- tinued in the shipping and commission busi- ness ever since. Rolph is president of the Mission Bank, the Mission Savings Bank, and the Mission Promotion Association ; has been president three years of the Shipowners Association, and recently ended his third term as president of the Merchant's Ex- change. He is a director and a vice-presi- dent of the Panama-Pacific International Exposition, with which he has been identified from its inception, having been a member of the committee which went to Washington in the spring of 19 10 and got that first bill through congress which made possible San Francisco's victorious fight for the Expo- sition. Rolph has on previous occasions declined his friends' urgent entreaties to run for mayor, but this time his civic patriotism and concern for the success of the Expo- sition prevailed.
Mayor Rolph will pursue a progressive and constructive policy; for his first for- ward moves, the acquisition of the Spring Valley plant and the construction of an architecturally beautiful and dignified new city hall. And he will see that the city, like a good housewife, will begin to clean up and prepare for the reception of millions of guests and for many emigrants from Euro- pean shores.
That bad habit San Francisco has of flaunting her faults from the housetop and hiding her virtues under a bushel down cellar misleads the stranger. Rolph, who loves and has faith in his native town, knows San Francisco's not nearly so red as she's painted. He knows the city in all her lights and moods, all her magnificence and shabbi- ness; every foot of uneven pavement that must be replaced by smooth; the old-time flaunting gingerbreaded wooden palaces that take on at twilight mystery and mag- nificence; the splendid new stone and steel structures that show the lesson of fire and shock was well learned ; the ugly tenements, the Golden Gate, the Park, Chinatown, Fisherman's Wharf, the Presidio, Fort Mason, Twin Peaks; the bays, now sap- phire-flashing, now misty-blue; their islands; the ships that bring strange treasures from the Orient; the human flotsam and jetsam of the waterfront; the Ferry. Rolph knows them all by heart. When he coihes back
from European or American dties to the flock of hills that is San Francisco, his heart leaps up and his eye exults that his ''lady of ventures" has the most magnificent location of them all, and that her people who met and conquered disaster with song light on their lips are the bravest, most generous and gay-hearted.
But the people of San Francisco have the weakness of their strength, and Mayor Rolph knows what that weakness is. Those Argonautic pioneer forefathers, each of whom had to shift for himself, have imbued their descendants with a strong individ- ualism. Singly, their achievements are marvelous: collectively — they are just be- ginning to do things well collectively. It is hard for these strong wills to row in the same boat. Mayor Rolph says in accents almost of prayer: "We are going to be united. We are going to work for the com- mon weal. We are pulling together." So will the new San Francisco go on from strength to strength, undaunted, unashamed, united. Frances A. Groff.
A Fighter for Pure Food
FOOD is a subject which concerns every- body. Eating, the universal habit, should be a pleasure. Eating to live — stoking food down as fuel — is a ghastly bore.
What interferes with the delightfulness of eating? Haste, worry, impure food.
So long as there is nothing to eat but food, let it be good !
Any community can have clean, pure food if it possess a woman or two of the caliber of Mrs. Overton G. Ellis of Tacoma.
Chairman of the Food Sanitation Com- mittee of the General Federation of Women's Clubs, and for the same committee of the Washington federation, Mrs. Ellis has not forgotten that charity begins at home. She tackled the food problem of Tacoma in business fashion: first creating public senti- ment; second securing a law; third seeing the law was enforced.
Two years ago, Mrs. Ellis, then president of the Aloha Club, asked the heads of other women's clubs to her home to form a Pure Food Council. This set two thousand feminine tongues a-wagging. When the D. A. R., the W. D. C, and the W. C. T. U. were invited in, a thousand more women clamored for a pure-food law.
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Western Personalities
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A reform that struck at no man's pleasures, but catered to that center of his being, the stomach, was ticketed through to popu- larity. Newspapers offered co-operation. Storekeepers nmning sanitary places re- garded. &eir hearty support as an added advertisement for themselves. Altruistically disregarding the threatened injury to their business, the doctors came in. At the health department the women received their wel- come as allies long-desired.
When, after study of state and federal laws and city ordinances, a bill was finally drafted, no one dared openly oppose it, except as to a clause which related to the wrapping of bread. Secret agencies were at work, however, tampering with the city machine. In the peddling back and forth and recopying of the ordinance jokers were inserted and clauses or portions of clauses omitted, but Mrs. Ellis was not to be caught napping and all underhand tactics proved inoperative.
Centering the fight on bakery products had two good results: public attention was invited to the food which, though most sub- jected to uncleanliness, cannot be sterilized, washed nor cleaned; and the butchers, grocers and other dealers were so busy laughing at the baker that they disregarded the rear attack on their own methods.
No theatrical performers could more skilfully have held the public eye than Mrs. Ellis and the women of Tacoma in their bread campaign. To disprove that paraffin would blend with hot bread and so bread could not be wrapped hot, that bread took eight or ten hours to cool, and that the cost of wrapping apparatus was prohibitive to the small dealer — all allegations of the trade — ^forty Tacoma ladies, for eight or nine days, baked, wrapped and watched. Bread wrapped hot and bread wrapped cold, they cooled in racks in forty minutes; and chemical tests at intervals of from one to thirty days from the time of baking revealed the utter refusal of paraffin to mix with bread imder any circumstances whatsoever. The wrapping the women did on a home- made contraption that cost them a little over a dollar. And with all this that clause failed to pass! and thereby hangs a tale.
By sacrificing the bread clause the re- mainder of the ordinance trivunphed without a dissenting vote. The success of an ordi- ce V7!Hh which a federal expert had found ult, "It is too good for any dty council
to pass,'' Mrs. Ellis attributes to the visits of herself and her associates to every council- man and his wife.
Believing clean food to be essentially a woman's cause, and prizing the domestic sense and singleness of purpose as requisites in an inspector, the women petitioned the mayor to appoint a woman, and he barkened to their request.
Details are unnecessary of the Tacoma campaign's revelation of slovenliness, dirt, filth and exposure of food to disease germs in the markets. Every dty where public sentiment has hot been aroxised presents identical conditions. The clean-up in Tacoma has been most rapid and effectual. Merchants and buyers have been educated and interest awakened as to the importance of all lines of sanitation. The daily experi- ence of the inspector shows that the class of people most in need of lessons are telephon- ing and coming to her for advice.
Mrs. Ellis had led a fight in Tacoma against food preservatives, especially "Freeze 'em," which silences warning odors without destroying bacteria. "Freeze 'em" is the trade name under which sulphur dioxide or sodium sulphate was formerly sold. The digestive secretions have litde effect on food embalmed with "Freeze 'em." Children are the greatest sufferers from its effects. "For the children" has been Mrs. Ellis' slogan. "Who," she rose to inquire, "is entitled to the protection of the health de- partment, the users of Treeze 'em,' or the people of Tacoma, not only from doped food, but from any means of deception by which rotten food of all kinds may be given in ex- change for good money?"
That's the worst of Mrs. Ellis. She is one of those unanswerable persons. She has been valuable to Tacoma as a sodal factor, a club leader and a member of the library board, though naturally her campaign for pure food has been her biggest achievement. Never fanatical, hysterical or spasmodic, always alert, direct, thorough, cool-headed, she is just the woman to work a permanent reform and point the way for others.
Judge Overton G. Ellis, recently appointed to the Washington state supreme court, has taken his wife and the Ellis boy and girl to Olympia. The Tacoma people persist in looking upon the lot of them as a loan ex- hibit to the state capital, and the Ellises rather like to regard themselves in that light.
Alfred Jeffreys.
Captain of His Soul
By Edmund Mitchell
Author of In Desert Keeping; Toward the Eternal Snows; Etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY MAYNARD DIXON
Chapter IX, Book I to Chapter II. Book II
BEGUN IN THE NOVEMBER NUMBER
Synopsis of PRECEDiNr. Chapters: A young hobo of respectable family, whUe tramping the Colorado desert with his pal, quits the companionship of the latter and continues his journey to California alone, having been influencea toward better things by witnessing an impressive object-lesson of man's humanity to man — the Idnd- neas of a mining exjxjrt to some fellow-travelers, and he revolts at his pal's plans for robbery. Then begins a valiant struggle to overcome his desire for drink and idleness. Weakened by hunger, he steals a purse, the first theft of his me. The awakening of his soul, a keen psychological analysis by the author, takes place within the sound and shadow of mission chimes in the tower of an mn. His first phy'sical effort toward right living is spent in a day's hard work at wood -chopping; his second effort is one of moral courage — he returns to the scene of the purse-robbery, voluntarily restores thi money to its owner, and is promptly turned over by the latter to the sheriff.
THE HAND OF THE LAW
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T appears to me," said the judge of the superior court, when the fateful moment for passing sentence had arrived, *Hhat this is a case presenting very remarkable and exceptional features. The prisoner, after surrendering himself to justice, has pleaded guilty to the act of felony as charged. But he committed the crime when crazed