!it*iciiir
LIBRARY
INIVERSITY Of
CALIFORNIA
"With a sudden cry of protest, protest ag ainst the possibilities of disaster to
her hopes that lay within the moment, she took down the receiver." Page 491.
THE MILLS OF
MAMMON
BY
JAMES H. BROWER
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
F. L. WEITZEL
AND
HENDERSON HOWK
JOLIET, ILL., U. S. A.
P. H. MURRAY & COMPANY
1909
All Rights Reserved
THE MILLS OP MAMMOI*
Copyright, 1909, by
P. H. MURRAY.
[All rights reserved.]
Published October, 1909.
THE STORY BY CHAPTERS!
PART I.
Chap. Page.
1. One Side of a Grave Question 9
2. "Hump s" Daughter 21
3. A Worker s Home 24
4. Spies Wanted 31
5. Joel Takes the Money 36
6. Charles Augustus Charity List 46
7. Who Is John Bulman? 55
8. Martha Moves to Town 64
9. A Worshiper and a Rebel 68
10. Moses Finds a Mother 74
11. The Investigation of Thompson 79
12. Mother Holcomb Is Circumvented 85
13. A Mechanic s Vision 92
14. An Unfinished Chapter 99
15. The Chapter Finished , Ill
16. A White Slave Trader . 116
17. Madame Vaughn s and the "Eagle Club" 122
18. A White Slave Pen 127
19. A Tragedy at Madame s 135
20. "They s Only One Way" 142
21. Norma Jordan 146
22. Madame Talks Business 153
23. "Are You Ready?" 163
24. The Betrayal 168
25. Charley Harris Finds a Job 172
26. The First Alarm 177
27. A Countryman Held Up 189
28. Mickey s Religious Experience 204
29. A Worker s Death 211
30. Holdon Gives Advice 217
31. Mickey Introduces Friends 226
32. The Vision Fades 234
33. The Ultimate Demand 242
34. When Jim Lacked Sand 248
/ OJL
4 MILLS OF MAMMON.
35. A Mock Marriage 253
36. Joel s Plans 258
37. Agitators in the Plant 263
38. Mickey in a New Setting 272
39 A Hobby and Its Rider 279
40. Uplift Forces at Work 288
41. The "Ethical Study Club" 287
42. Bulman Talks Ethics 293
43. Yancey Plays a Part 304
44. Carson "Physical Instructor" 312
45. What Happened to the Spies 315
PART II.
Chap. Page
1. A Detective Story 327
2. Joel Leaves Cairo 335
3. Concerning Charley 341
4. That Vision Again 344
5. A Spasm of Virtue 348
6. The Mill of the Gods Stops 353
7. In a Texas Town 360
8. The Murder 3G5
9. She Wants an Angel 373
10. Letters and Comment 379
11. Announcing the Coming of Mr. Wm. Abner 383
12. An "Iron Angel" 396
13. The Letter He Wanted 400
14. Price in the Role of a Burglar 405
15. Holdon Returns 411
16. Mickey Meets on Old Friend 415
17. Lost A Son 419
18. The Prospective Candidate at a Conference 425
19. Mickey Meets a Topnotcher 432
20. A "Hand" at Holdon s 439
21. The Plotters Meet 445
22. Out into the Night 452
23. Fly Boyd s Sudden Departure 456
24. The Hue and Cry 462
25. Mr. Abner Prepares to Give Battle 474
26. They Accept 482
THE ILLUSTRATIONS.
"With a sudden cry of protest, protest against the possi
bilities of disaster to her hopes that lay within the moment,
she took down the receiver." Page 491. Frontispiece.
"I swan ef I hain t most forgot all I wanted to ask you
a-seein that pesky nigger a diddlin* an a daddlin with that
carpet." Page 65.
"A handful * * * finally went up to offer advice, criti
cism and caution, but the "PILLARS" stood firm. Page 102.
" and here, wolves, human wolves, devour this beauty,
and feast their eyes upon her flesh alone." Page 164.
.< * * * d youse hear me! Youse killed him, an dese
here men knows it." Page 213.
"I will follow you to the ends of the earth and hire, with
my kisses, some other little dog to put you away. Now go!"
Page 246.
"They ain t no priest ner sky-pilot goin t say a word t
God fer youse, an God knows I ain t." Page 371.
"The first one of you to lift a hand will beat the other one
to hell by about three seconds." Page 448.
THE MAD MAMMON- WORSHIPING WOULD.*
Strange! But isn t it so?
That a man feels good when he s beaten another
And fastened himself on the back of a brother!
Isn t it passing strange?
But isn t it so?
With Jacob, we bargain at Esau s cost;
We re pleased with profits the hired have lost;
As gods turned devils we call for rents ;
As usurers, gloat over cent per cents;
Our riches, religion and culture we roll,
A straining mass, on each body and soul
Of the landless class. We double their toil,
And feast as leeches on those who moil;
And then and then, we patronize workers
And proudly fellowship robbers and shirkers!
Strange! Isn t it so?
God pity, with workers tis so]
For among all classes is eager desire
To rank and grade and to climb up higher,
Away from the grime and smell of the soil,
Away from the need of physical toil,
Away from the vulgar, serving masses
And in with the ruling, cultured classes
The whiter one s hands and the less one labors,
The more he is thought of by all his neighbors.
Even with workers tis so.
Hence, hard is the task
Of those who insist that all are brothers
And live by their faith, to emancipate others.
The rich raise the cry of "Dangerous teachers!"
The middle class fly from radical preachers,
The proletaire, blinded, are pitiful creatures,
With spirit and courage blurred out of their features;
And fear makes a desperate task.
GEORGE HOWARD GIBSON.
*From a volume of verse entitled "The People s Hour," to
come from the press simultaneously with this book. By the
same publishers.
THE MILLS OF MAMMON
CHAPTER I.
ONE SIDE OF A GRAVE QUESTION.
On one of the most aristocratic avenues in our metro
polis stands a mansion, unsurpassed in beauty of archi
tecture by any within the reach of the eye in either di
rection.
Within, the appointments are in keeping, and the best
of our society of the "new rich" had been entertained
within its doors, up to six months ago. But death felt
its way even into this abode of wealth, and took the
wife and mother from scenes of earthly contests and
conquests, leaving the Honorable Horace Holdon a
widower, with a daughter twenty-one years of age, and
a son of twenty-five.
Beatrice Holdon had tried to make up to her mother
for the neglect and indifference of her brother Joel, and
her love and devotion had, in some measure, compensated
for his shortcomings.
As Joel Holdon plunged more and more into the vor
tex of vice that opens inviting arms to the sons of rich
and indulgent parents, his mother sought to drown her
grief and quiet her conscience by redoubling her chari
table work among the poor. Beatrice went into "the
sweet work of charity" with a double purpose to satisfy
her mother s longing for forgetfulness, and to satisfy
her desire to do all she might to help lift the weight of
misery she had early come to know in the lives of the
distressed about her.
"Bee" Holdon was sincere, honest, earnest and de
voutly religious. She had learned to differentiate be
tween poverty and pauperism a thing seemingly impos
sible of comprehension on the part of the average char
ity worker. Her work among the poor carried a blessing
with it, because of the spirit in which she gave.
9
10 MILLS OF MAMMON
After her mother s death, this girl of twenty-one
practically gave her time and all the money she could
coax from her father to the work.
The mother died firm in the faith that her husband
was a true man, even though a bit hard to understand at
times.
Could she have known the real Horace Holdon, could
she have known that some of the dens of vice, gilded
though they were, upon which she would have looked
with loathing, furnished each month a percentage of the
money she spent to assist the wives and children of men
who had been ground to powder by the system that paid
toll to her husband, she could not have been a charity
worker, and would have had more of heartache and sor
row to endure.
Joel had just returned from a trip to the Pacific
coast which had cost his father something like ten thou
sand dollars, a trip in which a "foot-light favorite" fig
ured. While Joel is smarting from the sting of things
the Honorable Horace had said in warning, among
others, that he must live within his allowance until he
should decide to settle down, that this San Francisco
escapade is the last he will settle for, etc., we will intro
duce him. An offer from the father to get him a berth
with the mining branch of the trust, Joel had simply
scoffed at, declaring that when he wanted to be buried
alive he would let the governor know.
Twice since his return home, Bee had induced him to
accompany her on her trips into the realm of poverty
and that was the limit. Joel swore under his breath at
each halt. The sight of the squalid misery of the poor
sickened him. He looked upon all of the, to him,
wretched mass as so many beggars, and resented the
familiarity of his sister with such people.
After the second expedition he determined to "blow
her up," as he put it, and if she wouldn t listen to rea
son, he proposed to take the matter to the governor.
His chance came sooner than he had expected. While
taking a rather absent-minded look at his many manly
perfections of figure and feature in the hall mirror, Bee
caught sight of him and prevented his escape by a sud
den descent upon him. "Oh, Joel," she exclaimed, "I
want you to go with me this morning this June weather
ONE SIDE OF A GRAVE QUESTION II
is lovely." Scowling into the mirror, until his face
suited his fancy, Joel turned. "Where to, Sis? Not to
hand out another batch of Dad s dough to the brats
down on Hell s half-acre." Bee put up her hands in
protest. "How can you, Joel? You, you ought not to
talk so!"
He shrugged his shoulders. "See here, Sis, I might
just as well unload now as any other time, and I tell
you flat, if you won t listen to me, I am going to appeal
the case to the governor."
"I don t understand what case?" Bee inquired.
"What case? Say, kid, don t try to string me. You
know what I am driving at this damned charity non
sense of yours that s what case."
Bee dropped her hand from her brother s arm, and
her eyes rested upon the tips of his shoes, her lips
trembling, she protested: "Joel, you shouldn t talk to
me that way that s the way drunken husbands talk to
the wives they abuse."
"Put me on a level with the drunken husband of one
of those dirty, sniveling beggars, who coax money out
of you, and then laugh at you for being a "softy" as
soon as your back is turned! Well, I call that the
limit."
"Oh, Joel, you know I didn t mean that. You could
not abuse the confidence of a woman who trusted you
you couldn t sink so low as to abuse your wife. I only
meant that your voice and your sneering sounded
strangely like things I ve heard in my work among the
poor."
Joel patted her on the shoulder. "All right, Sis, let
it go at that, but just the same I want to straighten you
out on what you call your work among the poor/
"Well?" Bee looked up at him appealingly.
"Well," petulantly. "What do you mean by that
well? Do you know, sometimes I d like to slap you
when you look at me that way. There s something in
your eyes I don t like sort of a Villain still pursued
her look. "
"Joel !"
"Fact, Sis ! Anyhow it don t work a spell on me this
time. You know," he plunged on, "I have always been
12 MILLS OF MAMMON
strictly against yonr meddling with those beggars, and
if the old woman "
"What old woman, Joel?" Bee s voice was low, but
vibrant with reserve force.
"Hang it! Mother, of course! If she hadn t gone
nutty on charity work " The girl swung about, and
catching him by the shoulders, shook him, saying: "Stop
right there, Joel Holdon. You may say anything you
please of me, but don t you dare to say one word about
mother. You, of all men, to belittle the work that she
gave herself up to, when you when you "
Joel removed her shaking hands from his shoulders,
and in an injured tone, said : "So you are going to
take up the hectoring where she left off. God, I know
now what I ve always seen in your eyes ! Come, kid,
spit it out, spit it out, I m used to it."
Bee shrank away from him, and for a moment was
silent; then lifting her eyes, and holding out her hands
to him, said: "Joel, forgive me. I promised mother I
would never reproach you, but you drove me "
"Never reproach me and I drove you? Say, Sis,
this is as good as a play. What have 1 done? It seems
to me the reproach is on the other side. You belong to
the best set in town, and everywhere I go, and every
body I know, who is anybody, either says you are queer
or thinks so. What with your hiding yourself, and as
sociating with people who are simply impossible why,
damn it, Bee, you know as well as I do that the whole
of our set is down on the sort of work you are doing.
It s bad enough for us to pay over money to some char
ity organization and that s blackmail nine times out of
ten ; but to have you going into the homes of such peo
ple as you dragged me to twice last week, and you hold
ing their miserable, dirty babies in your arms, while
great big, red- faced women weep tears on your silk
cape each one of em worth a hard dollar to her, and
the whole tribe of brats, schooled to it, no doubt, stood
around, or pulled at you, and told the lies made up for
them. Why, Bee, it s disgraceful! It s an outrage, and
I don t see what the governor s been thinking about that
he hasn t put a stop to it, since he has a free hand with
you."
Bee did not reply. Standing with downcast eyes, she
ONE SIDE OF A GRAVE QUESTION 13
seemed to be pondering the weight of her brother s criti
cism of her "great labor."
Believing her silence argued conviction, Joel with
vigor renewed the attack, while his father arrived at the
library door and halted within earshot, as he resumed:
"You see, it s like this, Sis. The half they tell you is
false; there isn t anything to it. Those women whose
tales of woe you unfolded to me after we got away from
their dirty dens are drunkards along with their husbands
in nine cases out of ten. Yes, they are, and those who
are not are in poverty because their husbands belong to
labor unions, and are striking, or are in jail instead of
being at work. The thing I m kicking about is this I ve
been in this world twenty-five years, and I ve seen a lot of
it, and I tell you the more sweet charity you pour out
on the wives and children of the workers, the more the
men organize and strike, and destroy our property. Why,
kid, it s a regular layout a game. The governor runs
a big factory, the men want more money for booze and
craps and penny ante. They organize a labor union,
and hit the old man for a raise. If he don t come down
with the rocks, they strike, and cave in windows and
raise general hell all around the works. At the same
time the governor s daughter, a bit loose in her head
piece, is a snoopin around amongst these men s wives
and ladling out the governor s rocks promiscuously to
any one who can break the drouth, and while dad fights
the men, he puts up the dough to feed their families."
"Joel, Joel, you don t know, you can t know what
you are saying." Bee, with hands clasped, stood before
him, when the father called out: "Come Joel, and you,
too, Bee; come into the library and let us settle this
matter the three of us." Joel was elated ; this was bet
ter than he had hoped. Now Bee would surely get
"hers," he thought, as he entered the library and threw
himself into one of its comfortable chairs. Bee entered
quietly, and sat down where she could see both men. She
had always known that her father opposed this work of
hers; now she felt that all her hopes and fears were to
find issue, but she was undismayed. In her quiet blue
eyes there dwelt the steadfast light of purpose; she
thought she knew her way through life they did not.
Her thoughts were undisturbed for quite a while. The
14 MILLS OF MAMMON
father was evidently at a loss how to open the subject.
Finally Joel severed the knot.
"I don t know how much you heard of what I was
saying to Sis/ he observed, "but I can state my case in a
few words. I am dead against Bee s going any farther
with this foolishness she calls charity work/ I want
to see her put in a little more ginger, and not make a
holy show of herself, going around looking like a picture
of Mary at the Cross/ :
Bee sprang from her chair. "Joel, J oe ^ now can
you?"
"Beatrice is right, Jo, let s hear facts your oratory
is a bit lurid," the father remonstrated.
"Well, it s the truth ; the girls she ought to run with
make fun of her, and the fellows of our set, outside of
Phelps, Harmon and Wetherby, call her a Little Puri
tan/ Why, a man would be better off without a sister
than to have one who don t know enough to take the
pole in the race when it is hers all the way round."
"Well, well, yes. But, Jo, I must insist that your
language is better fitted to the race track than to the
icompany of either your sister or father."
"I beg pardon." Joel uttered the words perfuncto
rily and settled back to the cushions, well satisfied.
Across the room Bee was wondering at the differ
ence in her brother s viewpoint touching her and him
self. For her he insisted that she should take the pole
for the family honor, for himself forbidden pastures, and
a sulking fit, if harness or training for a race in defense
of family honor were even mentioned.
"Well, Beatrice," the father turned to her with a
smile, "what have you to say to Joel s demand that you
give up this plaything?"
"May I hear what you have to say first, father?"
"Why, certainly, Bee. While I am willing to admit
that I am not nearly so radical as Joel and mind, I am
convinced that he has had, as he says, a good deal of op
portunity to learn at first hand, since he has had to sow
a big crop of wild oats, and spread the sowing to the
two coasts I must admit that I don t believe in the sort
of charity work you indulge in. You see, it is this way,
Beatrice. There are a hundred and one organized chari
ties, church associations and begging institutions that
ONE SIDE OF A GRAVE QUESTION 15
make a regular business of charity. Why, there isn t a
business man, a club or any other institution, even a
saloon, that isn t hounded to death by the agents of these
so-called charities. In fact, it has come to be a bore,
and I have been satisfied for a long time that the major
ity of these organizations which prey on business men
and rich families are more interested in charity because
it gives them an easy living than on any other account.
Still, so long as they are organized, and we have to pay
the fiddler, I don t see why our wives and daughters
should take up such work. And you know, Beatrice,
they are always opposing the meddling of well, people
who go out individually and interfere with their work."
"But I don t interfere, father. The people I help
would not accept help from the agents of organized
charities, and they do need help so badly. Their lives
are wretched. Oh, I wish you men could see them as
I do."
Beatrice stood at the head of the great library table,
her face aglow.
"Father Joel don t try to take this work away
from me. I would hate myself and this beautiful home
and all our wealth if I had to sit down with folded hands,
knowing what I do of the distress that burdens the lives
of thousands of innocent women and children, yes, and
men. Don t ask me to give this up. I "
"Nonsense, kid," Joel protested, with a fine assump
tion of superior wisdom, "you just pack your duds and
go to the shore with any one of a dozen parties who
would be only too glad to have dad s daughter to flaunt
in the faces of their dearest friends, and I ll bet the nrice
of your outfit you ll forget all the little brats and the
tear-dripping dames and their drunken husbands inside
of a month."
"Joel is right, Beatrice," the father s level voice came
to her as from afar. "You need a change. You have
been too much alone since mother s death, and besides,
can t you see that your own statement must condemn
your work, as you call it ? If the people you carry my
money to are too good to go to the charitable associa
tions, or accept help from their agents, they don t de
serve help, and each one you go to is just adding another
to the army of paupers."
1 6 MILLS OF MAMMON
"They are not paupers," Bee s voice was full of in
sistence.
"Not paupers?" Joel sneered.
"Then what are they?" the father demanded.
"I wish I could take you into their homes," Bee be
gan, when Joel interrupted with "Well, haven t you?
Didn t I see the dirty, ragged little beasts in swarms?
Didn t .you show me the choicest lot of bedraggled wom
en in town, and didn t we see hundreds of their daugh
ters coming out of old Hutch s factories, looking like
the very devil? What do you think you can do with
such cattle, anyway ? Not paupers, indeed ! Next you
will try to tell us that they are as good as yourself, or
some such rot."
He turned to his father. "I tell you, dad, it s just
such foolishness as this of mother s and Bee s that s got
these working people to talking Socialism, and yelling
for a divvy. Why, I stopped on a corner the other night
and heard a big, hulking working man tell a crowd of
Nixon s men that if it wasn t for the fact that they had
to work hard enough to keep two automobiles, a carriage,
a trap, a big mansion and all the men and women the
Nixons have to serve them, they would have more of
the comforts of life in their own homes. Then the impu
dent cuss pointed over to the plant and said : Men, you
may organize unions and strikes from now on till dooms
day, but so long as Nixon and his class own that plant
and its machinery, and all the wealth you produce, you
working men will remain within six weeks of the poor-
house, and when a panic comes you ll either send your
family to the poorhouse or accept the charity monger s
dole of stolen gold, red with the blood of little children.
And at that the mob shouted. Say, I wanted to make a
roughhouse right there. The idea!"
"Who was he?" Bee asked in a low voice.
"Oh, I can tell you all right, all right. I found out,
and the next day I fixed his clock."
"How was that?" the father questioned.
"Why, easy enough. It seems that our beastly city
government is afraid of that scum, and to curry favor
with them they issue street permits for their speakers. I
went to the policeman and got this lout s name and found
out that he worked for the Nixon people, and when I
ONE SIDE OF A GRAVE QUESTION I/
went down town the next day I sent my card up to
Nixon, and when I told him what downright anarchy
Bulman had been feeding the men, why, he just reached
over and tapped the bell and had his nibs up on the car
pet in less than no time. Say, he looked like a stoker
when he came in, dirty, greasy, and wet with sweat.
Then Nixon lit into him. He looked sort of queer at
first, but when Nixon got through with him, I ll be
damned excuse me. I ll be blowed if he wasn t smiling.
I ll admit he kept his temper while Nixon jacked him
up, and at last he just turned to Nixon and said : From
what you have said, I infer that you don t require my
services any longer/ Nixon told him to go back and
finish his day, but the fellow said, No, there is some
danger that I might convert some of the men to Social
ism. No, I quit here and now. My political convictions
are not for sale, even at the price of bread/ And he
stood his ground until he got the paltry wages due him.
And then, think of Nixon s gratitude to me. Bulmaij
had hardly gone when Nixon turned on me and said :
I m sorry you came, Holdon. That man was one of the
most faithful workers we ever had, and besides, he s in
a devil of a hard row lost two children last year, and
this year his boy, who was just getting old enough to
help out, got cut up in a machine over on the west side,
and isn t well yet. If I d thought he had the nerve to
take the gaff that way, I wouldn t have sent for him.
And he seemed put cut. Now, wasn t that the limit?"
With tears in her eyes, and her cheeks red with a
righteous anger, Bee confronted her brother. "I m glad,
so glad you refused to go with me this morning. I was
going to his home to carry comfort to his sick wife, and
that poor boy, crippled for life. And you, my own
brother, have taken the last hope away from them! I
am glad, Joel Holdon, that you would not go. If Mr.
Bulman had seen you " She hesitated. "Do you
know what I would do to you if I were in Mr. Bulman s
place? Well, I d fight you. I d whip you if I went to
jail for it."
"My God, Beatrice, what are you talking about?"
Holdon looked at his daughter with staring eyes.
"Just what I mean, father. It was such a contempt
ible thing to do. I know Mr. Bulman is a Socialist, but
1 8 MILLS OF MAMMON
isn t that just as honorable as being a Democrat or a
Republican? Don t we pride ourselves on having a free
country, where each man holds to whatever politics he
pleases ?"
"But, Beatrice, you don t understand. While I will
admit that the constitution grants that right, I contend
that Socialism does not come under that head. Why,
child, we have got to weed them out of our shops and
factories. They won t be put down and they are a real
danger."
"But, father, if you had a Socialist in the foundry
and his family would suffer if you discharged him, and
some one came to you as Joel went to Mr. Nixon, and
you sent for the man and he refused to give up what he
believed, or refused to lie to you to hold his place, would
you discharge him ?"
"I certainly should. Why, Beatrice, I am not run
ning a charity organization. When I have paid a man
his wages, he has no farther claim upon me. Of course,
I would discharge him as a lesson to the rest of the men
not to fool away their time listening to such rant."
"Then the men in your foundry do not have political
liberty?" It was a statement rather than a question.
"Political liberty be blowed ! I m talking business. If
you understood business, there would be less cobwebs
in your head, my girl. Business demands that the work
ers be kept where they cannot disturb our markets by
strikes and boycotts. And when it comes to Socialist
politics, that is ten times worse than all the unions in
existence. When we give the men work, they ought to
show enough gratitude to knock any agitator on the head
who comes around talking about our mansions, carriages,
automobiles and wealth. Instead of that, as Joel says,
they throw up their hats and shout, and then go home,
and likely dream of the day when they will be riding in
automobiles. I d like to see them."
"That s just it, dad, and Sis is feeding Socialists and
other cattle with our money, trying to fatten them up so
they can fight. I ll tell you flat, if I held the combination
to the cash box she d not get another piece of money for
any such foolishness. Better pack her off to the coast
next week, and let her cool her heels in the surf."
"But I m not going," Bee announced.
ONE SIDE OF A GRAVE QUESTION 19
"Well," her father replied, "you can understand that
you don t get another cent of my money to put into the
pockets of your suffering poor. You ll get just your
monthly allowance, and that s all. If you don t go to
some summer resort, what do you intend to do? I don t
think I shall keep this great house open "
Beatrice put a hand upon his shoulder, and said:
"You promised mother," her voice was almost a whisper,
"that this should be my home as long as I lived." His
head fell, and even Joel s ever-drumming fingers halted.
"Well, well, yes, I did; but if you don t go to the
seaside, you might go somewhere else, you know. You
wouldn t lose your home."
The girl stooped and kissed him.
"I m going to stay at home, father."
She walked to the door, her lips trembling and her
eyes filled with tears, then hesitated and turned back.
"Did you really mean that I am not to have any more
money for for sweet charity?" she faltered.
"Yes, I meant it." Holdon s voice was anything but
steady, and Beatrice felt that he would yield if she but
insisted.
"But I can still be honest with myself," she said,
proudly, arid went on: "I have promises to fulfill to
day," looking straight across the table at Joel, "and a
duty that wrings my heart. I m going to Mr. Bulman s
and tell them the whole truth. I consider Joel s act a
most contemptible thing, whether measured by business
or any other standard, and I shall not hide the truth, even
for my own brother."
Without a thought as to what her words really im
plied, the Honorable Horace Holdon sprang from his
chair, exclaiming : "And I forbid you to do anything: of
the kind."
"Here, too," Joel added.
For just a moment the girl hesitated. Her eyes had
lost their softness and her lips were drawn straight
across her even teeth.
"Yet, I will go," she declared. And added while they
stood, scarce believing their senses: "Not that I want
to be disobedient, but I gave a promise to one who knew
my heart, and appreciated my work. A promise I dare
not break. I must be honest with mvself and to those
2O MILLS OF MAMMON
who trust in me." She left the room, sobbing as she
went.
"That comes of mother s tomfoolery. I always
thought Sis was "
"Hush, Joel. Beatrice is all right. She s a little
jewel, but it s this confounded mixing with the poor that
has sent her off on a tangent. The little I give her for
charity won t build up many unions, or feed enough So
cialists to carry a ward. I ll bring her smiles back to
morrow, with a nice check. See if I don t, and after al
your butting in on the Bulman business, and making a
big thing of it "
"Well, how in the dickens could I know anything
about her being as thick as soubrettes in flytime with the
outfit? If I had "
"Well, yes, if you had, of course, you wouldn t have
said it. But the thing I m thinking of is Beatrice her
self. If some eligible young fellow could be gotten to
take up some of her time. Of course, I don t want any
rakes or young Johnnies coming around, but some young
man of good family and plenty of means."
"Why, dad, what s the matter with Charlie Wether-
by? He s the limit of all that s nice, and his folks are
such an old family that the girls shrivel up at seventeen,
and the boys go in for psalm singing and all sorts of de
votional exercises at ten. He s the very fellow; besides,
he s dead crazy over charity and has his old man eter
nally digging up for associations for suppressing every
thing but the old man s sugar mills. He would soon
show her where charity of her kind was a sin, and if
she would take to him well, he won t have less than two
millions."
"Bring him out and let s see how Beatrice takes to
his sort of charity. And, Joel, we have both been trying
to show Beatrice the path of duty. Now, how about
yourself? Have you thought much about my proposi
tion to put you up at the iron mines?"
Joel looked at his watch. "Phew, past time now. No,
I haven t thought it out yet. I ve got an engagement at
the Eagle, and I ll be twenty minutes late. No, I
haven t thought much about it. Good day."
As Joel left the room, the father called after him.
"Well, think it over, Joe."
CHAPTER II.
"HUMP S" DAUGHTER.
In a section of Illinois where farm lands sold, not so
many years ago, for less per acre than the price of a good
pair of boots, the growing demand for the soil has made
many a first settler comparatively well-to-do. Such an
one was Zedekiah Holcomb, only son of a quiet old Ver-
monter who had been well satisfied to have a bare three-
hundred-and-twenty of our rich soil, after having spent
the best half of his life on a much smaller and less pro
ductive farm in the Green Mountain state.
"Jed," an only child, inherited the fat farm shortly
after his marriage with Martha Plummer, the buxom
daughter of "th* most bullheadedest neighbor God ever let
a Christian settle next to on this earth," to use Jed s
father s flat-footed declaration as a basis of character
study.
Herman Plummer (known to his little world as
"Hump") had, to hear him tell it, been a wild blade in
his time did pretty much everything his worst enemy
could possibly have accused him of doing, murder ex-
cepted. But all that happened before he gave his heart
to God. To hear "Old Hump" testify served the youth
of the community in lieu of the circus. There were, we
are sorry to say, some grown folk, and amongst them a
few mothers, who condoned this levity in the young.
And it must be recorded in their defense that there were
extenuating circumstances.
When Plummer warmed up year after year in the
old-fashioned revivals, got going at quarterly meeting, or,
as always happened, found the full power of grace at
camp-meeting, his crimes of commission grew in number
and atrocity as he grew in years and in grace.
Martha, the only child in the Plummer home, had
been early offended at the levity of the youngsters of the
21
22 MILLS OF MAMMON
community, and had had a number of quarrels over her
father s sinnings, his conversion and his sanctification
before she gave her name to the church.
Hump s wife belonged to the congregation, as a matter
of course ; but the only testimony she was ever known to
offer was delivered in a quavering voice, and always in
the same words "Brothers and sisters, pray for me."
Even some of the church members admitted that she
needed praying for though it is doubtful if they ever
followed up the admission with a supplication. Not be
cause of her sins did she need praying for ; bless you,
no. She was so far from sinning that She didn t know
she had a soul of her own," Sister Grimes declared ; Sis
ter Smilley added: "An if she knew she had one she
wouldn t dast t say it when Hump an* Martha could hear
her, or they d hev it outen her."
The happiest day in Herman Plummer s life was that
on which Martha gave her first "testimony" touching the
wonderful power it had taken from the fountain-head
of all-power to hold her back from the temptations and
snares set for her feet. In her father s estimation, the
splendor of Martha s public professions centered in the
sharp darts she threw amongst the youngsters who on
every occasion pushed their levity as far as their parents
would permit and sometimes they forgot the line, to
find the rod at a later hour.
This religion of wrath, with the full flames of hell
playing ever before the eyes of those who didn t care to
get what Hump had, suited some of the congregation,
while others grew restless while forced to nose its fumes.
Certain preachers and elders began to avoid the Plummer
home. As the church stood on Plummer ground, this al
most open avoidance of the most religious man in the
neighborhood served to further divide the church. In the
end the community had two churches. This division only
intensified the labor of Herman Plummer to uproot the
infidels who believed a Catholic could go to heaven, or
that any place this side of the literal hell was hot enough
for such folks as Universalists, Unitarians and other lib
eral faiths. And he proved his case, by an appeal to the
book of books.
Martha s religious armor was fitted to her for life on
the day that silly, little Jane Young told her "No young
DAUGHTER. 23
people ever go to your old church any more, less it s to
hear your father belch hell-fire and make a fool of his-
self generally."
From that day on Martha became a close disciple of
her father, and bent every energy to the task of making
religion a thing for sane folk to shudder at. Several
years after her father s death, Martha chancing to hear a
wandering Baptist preaching the same pure and unde
nted damnation her father believed in, decided forthwith
that the Baptist church should henceforth have her sup
port. We have all heard the old saw : "One swallow
does not make a summer," so, too, Martha later discov
ered that one preacher does not make a ministry in the
Baptist faith.
How it came about that fun-loving "Jed" Holcomb
ever turned his eyes toward Martha Plummer, you will
have to guess. It is recorded in his book of life that he
rode over to the Plummer home one Sunday afternoon
and never rode, drove, or walked anywhere else any
Sunday after that until he had married Martha. It is
also recorded, in that selfsame book of life, that she
snatched him as a brand from the burning; that for a
year before marriage, and ten long years thereafter,
he listened to "Old Hump s" exhortations, confessions,
and expostulations then the good Lord took pity on
him and took "Hump" home to glory, or disposed of
him in some other fashion. It is also recorded that Mrs.
Plummer and "Jed" seemed to "git along amazin well
when they was alone together," which leads us to hope
that "Jed s" sacrifice was not entirely lost to the world.
CHAPTER III.
A WORKER S HOME.
In a town of fifteen hundred inhabitants, located in
central Illinois, back from the public square but three
short blocks, stands a modest cottage. Behind we catch
a glimpse of garden that reminds us strongly of a gar
den in which we labored happily when a boy. Within
this modest cottage, the home of William Harris, all
is neat and sweet and clean. No works of art
adorn the wails; unless the "premium chromos," of a
decade ago, are works of art. No carpets with a velvet
nap that deadens footfalls, as does old earth s great carpet
of green, are on these floors ; plain rag and ingrain suf
fice. Nor did the furniture that fills these six rooms, when
new, cost one half as mudi as the massive dining table
the Hon. Horace Holden imported from the palace of a
wornout prince of France no, the transportation charges
on that Holdon table cost more. But there is something
within these wooden walls that challenges the world s
attention, now as never before. True worth abides be
neath this roof; the homely virtues of the common life
find lodgment here, and righteousness and love have here
a home. When the world needs men, strong men, she
comes to such homes as this, and in her hands, a-tremble
with the dread of vice and crime left festering on her
seats of power, she bears the chaplet of laurel her gift
in time of need to the sons of sweet, and simple-hearted
mothers.
It mattered not what trouble entered a home in this
little city, the first cry of those in distress was for the
ministering hands, the sweet presence, of Mary Harris ;
a mother of labor ; a helpmeet of man ; an upbearer of
the church of Christ.
With all the cares a normal soul finds to grow upon,
Mary Harris put on new beauties as days were added to
her life. At twenty, when William Harris won her, she
24
A WORKER S HOME 25
was still unformed in mind. When they were married and
he had chosen to labor in the foundry in this town, his wife
found her place in life. Having joined a church, it was
her good fortune to sit under the ministry (as our moth
ers were wont to put it) of a man whose whole religion
was one of works ; whose heart found room to plead the
cause of all mankind. His sermons dealt with the ever-
pressing problems of the common life, and to drive home
his teachings he insisted that Christ s parables were liv
ing things, dealing with literal truths. He refused to
look upon God as an avenger. He pleaded for the regen
eration of the whole man, refusing to accept lip service,
or to countenance a "profession" that did not bring forth
fruit meet for repentance. To him life, the years that
fly, were all in all. The man, to merit the salvation he
proclaimed, must needs be a man. The pocket-kodak
Christianity of self-seekers, who mask their batteries of
greed behind a symbol of the ultimate, the supreme sacri
fice, was denounced in words that burned. Creeds to this
minister were but yokes in which cattle Tnig ht be driven
to pull the car of a greedy ecclesiasticism. The dogmas
of theologians, in this man s mind, served but to weaken
the beautiful truths of the plain gospel of love. He
deprecated nay he condemned the ostentatious organ
ization of banded charitable institutions, holding that if
"religion is to do good," and the majority of the people
are religious, the need for charity will constantly grow
less as religion manifests its power before man. In deal
ing with the young his stand was just as pronounced.
A new member came into his congregation, by letter,
and brought with her all the "thou shalt not s" of a dis
tant church. Questioning the attitude of the church
toward the gaieties of the younger members she had gone
to this man, and he had agreed to preach upon "The
Children We Love."
This sermon will go with Mary Harris, and a few
other hearers, through all the vicissitudes of life, and
as they close their eyes in death "The Children We
Love" will still be with them.
"Brothers and sisters," the minister said as he stood
before his congregation, "I have promised to preach to
you tonight upon a theme as old as motherhood a theme
that, in its beauty and solemnity, causes me to hesitate
26 MILLS OF MAMMON
as I seek words with which to clothe it The Children
We Love. How many of us love our children? How
many of us have measured the depths of love? How
many of us meet the duties, the sacrifices love demands ?
"Love is a sublime force, that is and yet is not akin
to passion. A supreme sacrifice, offering its all upon a
burning altar and asking not anything in return. A glo
rious, voluptuous, well-filled presence that may feed upon
a barren desert and still outlive, outshine, outserve selfish
ness enthroned in a fat land. Who would measure love
with a tape, set its boundaries upon earth, or name its
limitations beyond the portals of death ?
"Love is all, and in all. Love is charity, and passion,
and hope, and faith, and seeking, and sacrifice, all in one
great crucible tried by the fire of life. What is the meas
ure of our loving?
" The Children We Love Is the child that comes to
your home regretted, a child of love ? Does love prompt
suspicion? Does suspicion beget charity?
"All the religion you have within your heart tonight
is pure love, and if love requited, is joy, complete joy;
then you who profess religion should look upon the chil
dren we love with all charity, all hope and trust.
"Let my people dance before me, saith the Lord of
hosts, for today is the day of deliverance. When we
enter the presence of our souls if there is in our hearts
either hatred, anger or malice against one of these little
ones then our prayers shall defile us.
"Childhood is the springtime of life, when its rarest
blossoms come to light. The very garden of God cen
ters in the groups of merry children who congregate to
learn the first great lesson of the passion of Calvary
to learn how to live, to love, to labor, and to wait the
passing of the flower of youth into the full ripe fruitage
of manhood and womanhood.
"You who think that love must rule with a rod of
iron, beware! You who expect other manifestation of
religion in youth than the religion of living up the days
when honey drips from every opening flower, and
laughter, free as the clouds that cross our skies, fills up
the merry measure of the day, are treading upon danger
ous ground. Bring me the child who has confessed
Christ and taken upon its shoulders the weight of the
A WORKER S HOME 27
world s growing load of sin, and you bring to me a
flower plucked from God s garden to be transplanted to
live or die within a flower pot of your choosing.
"Are there wolves about that you seek to herd the
children you love within the portals of the church? Yea,
yea, there are wolves who rend the flesh of children,
wolves who feed upon the sweet blood of our young
daughters, wolves who poison the springs from which
our youth drink wolves!
"What are you doing my brother, my sister, to ex
terminate the wolves who live in your midst and feed
upon those we love ? To rob childhood of its freedom, its
song of heaven-born melody, to fence it in behind a wall
of don ts, to invest it with the name of Christian, to
organize it into leagues or bands in the hope to sustain
its virtue and ripen its honor, is but to admit the greater
failure.
"My religion, your religion, is in the balance today.
Either the sword of faith shall prevail against the wolves
I see prowling in a Christian land, and these children of
ours shall come into their inheritance, or this church,
this religion, will go down to ruin when the wolves wax
strong enough to dispute your right to protect the chil
dren you love even within the walls of your home. What
are the rights of the child? What is this inheritance of
which I speak ? Listen here is all of my religion, all of
my politics, all of my philosophy of life :
"The child by right of birth shall have, to the full of
its need, of all the wealth accumulated by the labor of
those who have struggled for mastery over the material
world, and of all the knowledge man has gathered in the
struggle of the races and this child all children shall
have all of these things upon which to build their lives,
without money and without price. To deny this right of
the children to participate, to the fullest extent of their
individual needs, in all things of worth stored upon this
earth of ours today, on account of birth, parentage or
racial extraction, is to deny the very existence of the
Christ ethic.
"If you believe the wolves who fatten upon the heri
tage of our children are sapping the very foundations of
the social order then exterminate them and the religion
28 MILLS OF MAMMON
of our youth will be symbolical of purity, in ages yet
unborn.
"You who lift your hands against the children who
disobey your imperfect laws take thought. Your obe
dience to laws your added years have given you oppor
tunity to understand, is but halting ; what right have you
to strike? You, who are yet ignorant of many things,
who meet punishment for violating laws of nature, of
which you have been willfully ignorant, through long
years look at this child.
"A stranger, in a strange world, given over to wonder
and by nature made inquisitive. He has to learn, and you
who are responsible for the coming of this child ; in your
blindness lie to him, evade his questions, and build lie
upon lie for your undoing. Mark you, a normal child
of four is keener of intellect, more retentive of memory,
more persistent in seeking knowledge, more able to
judge man s true worth, than the majority of you of
older growth. And still you think to deceive him. What
right have you to demand more from the child than you
are willing to give? He will give you measure for meas
ure a. lie for a lie. He will show cunning to meet your
craft. He will watch your dealings with others, if you
are false to them you will have no right to weep over the
loss of your children s respect, and condemn them as un
grateful. You have lost their respect because they know
more of your hollo wness, your hypocrisy, than the rest
of the world knows that is all.
"Fear not, if you are fully worthy of love you shall
not be denied. Parentage is life s supreme test; to be
worthy of motherhood, all of heaven has nothing more
to offer the woman."
This man ministered and died long years before his
philosophy of life became a vital issue in the land. They
buried him and went away sorrowing. Another came,
fresh from the school room and filled with a religion
drawn from books. Mary Harris listened to him for full
six months ; then quietly withdrew from the church, and
gave her life to good works.
But here come two of her loved ones. William, bent
with labor and the weight of years, still bears the look of
one who lives in a pleasant place. Charles, the youngest
son, now working by his father s side in the foundry, is
A WORKER S HOME 29
first to reach the kitchen door where the mother stands
beaming with pride in this, her baby.
Four children have gone out into the world from this
home, and it is such as they who fight the world s bat
tles. The moral strength society needs to guide her as
she walks in the path wherein greed has digged pitfalls
is nurtured in such homes as this.
"Hello, mother mine !" Charley s voice comes floating
to her when he is but skirting the far side of the lot. For
answer she waved her hand and waited.
"News, mother Winslows want me after all,
and I told Webb tonight that I would not be back in "
"And my baby is going to leave me?" She reached
blindly to the door for support, but before her hands
could find this cold support her baby boy had taken her
in his great, strong arms.
"There, there, mother, it isn t so awful bad, is it dear ?
not like going so far I couldn t come back, you know."
With terms of endearment the boy tried to soothe her,
but still she clung to him sobbing out her fears of the
great world beyond. The father, coming up, stood help
less in this mother s crisis. Did he see back, back beyond
the birth of this strong-limbed young toiler, into the heart
of a mother awaiting the agony? As he stands with
misty eyes, is he following this sweet mother s patient,
loving, ever-leading care of her babes ? ? Does he under
stand what she suffers a mother s complete surrender
to the demands of a generation with its own homes to
build, its own battles to fight, with the fragments of
wealth and opportunity still left to it?
"I know we talked it all over, Charles but it was not
like knowing the day. I didn t think I would be such a
goose." The mother dried her eyes and tried to laugh.
"Yes, of course you must go. I wouldn t think of keep
ing you."
"Mother, I knew you wouldn t be anything but just
the bravest and best mother ever." The boy did not look
back; his eyes were on the future, and he told himself a
hundred times during that afternoon that the great world
of men was hungry to do him honor. Listen to him:
"You want me to make that great machine of mine a
success, don t you mother? And I will, I can promise
30 MILLS OF MAMMON
you that. And mother, when I am rich I ll show you and
father the whole world. Besides, if I am to make a place
for myself in the world, I must get away from this
dead-alive town."
"Yes, dear," she had replied, looking into his splendid
eyes of brown, all alive with youth s first great resolve;
"your place is where a good man may make the best use
of all God has given him. Father and I will begin a
new life next week but it will be hard, oh, so hard."
CHAPTER IV.
SPIES WANTED!
Behind barred gates and solid walls of brick and
stone, an army of men and boys are laboring for the
three mean things upon which man depends for mere
animal existence. Food, to replace the tissues worn to
waste in yesterday s struggle ; shelter, to protect the body
from earth s elements ; and clothing, that badge of higher
being. But scant room is there for the multitude of other
wants society imposes, to find satisfaction in the wage
doled out to the workers. Yet the majority of those who
enter here go singing, laughing, or jesting to their tasks.
Only a few are serious without being sullen ; and the
danger that lurks behind the sullen faces, is alike a
danger to the jester and the serious-minded toiler within
the gates.
At the meeting of the streets these walls of brick and
stone close upon an office building, the home of the Hoi-
don Foundry Company. Within the sumptuous office the
president of the company, the Hon. Horace Holdon, once
member of congress, is in earnest conversation with his
superintendent, Mr. Franklin Price, while the motley
army of men and boys are filing in at the gates on either
street.
"It s too much to pay for such protection," Mr. Hol
don observes petulantly.
"Yes, it is steep. But when a man undertakes a job
like that he is practically taking his life in his hands and
then I don t suppose this company is in the business just
for it s health." The superintendent laughed.
"I don t care a cent about that, what I want to know
is do you believe it would pay us to put up the five hun
dred dollars for membership?"
"I certainly do, or I wouldn t have bothered you with
it a second time. You will admit that I am pretty close
to the running end of the business, and, besides, I have
31
32 MILLS OF MAMMON
trusties among the men, who keep me posted ; the only
fault I find with them is that the men are getting to know
them, and that ends their usefulness."
"Then you look for trouble?"
"Not this year, but trouble, yes. And I had thought
this Cleveland scheme a good one to push. It s a good
thing if it fails. It costs us but five hundred, and if it s
organized, we will have the making and breaking of la
bor troubles in our own hands. I tell you, Mr. Holdon,
the devil himself couldn t have hatched a better scheme to
offset the growing power of the unions."
"Suppose we grant the utility of the scheme," said
Holdon, taking up a letter, "there are still other consid
erations. What guarantee have we that this company,
which bargains to furnish spies and sell the secrets of the
unions, and make strikes to our order, may not in turn
sell us out?"
"Every guarantee, a common interest, for one thing."
After a moment >of silence the magnate looked up to
say, "I see, so you look for trouble in the future, and like
a wise man are planning to be forearmed. You believe
the organization of this Corporations Protective Asso
ciation will serve our ends?"
"I do. In other plants the men are piling into the
unions like sheep going over a fence, and you know what
that means, within the year we will have committees in
this office representing the men."
"What men?" the president demanded angrily.
"Oh, the moulders and machinists, the others will
follow later."
"Why, man, they are the backbone of the works."
"Yes."
"We can t have trouble, Price." Holdon paused,
thought better of it and asked, "Are you sure of this?"
"Positive."
"Well, well, well say Price, if it ever comes to a
show-down you give them just as little show as a snow
ball has in Tophet, and it ll suit me." He turned to the
superintendent and concluded the interview by saying :
"As you go out send Moses in, and remember, we must
avoid trouble, our contracts are too valuable and we have
little time margin on them. I suppose if the men knew
this they d hustle to shake the tree. Well, they won t get
SPIES WANTED! 33
many plums while Price is in the neighborhood without
fighting for them," was Holdon s comment as the super
intendent went out.
Moses Webster had been a stenographer at Holdon s
for five years and had lately been transferred to the
auditing department. When he entered the private office,
the first call he had ever had to that sanctum of business
acumen, his heart was troubled. A wife and two little
tots depended upon him for their existence. A salary of
sixteen dollars per week, eaten as fast as earned, gave
him every right to dread the outcome of an interview that
might entail enforced idleness, and that meant want from
the first day, grim, staring want unless he applied to his
foster mother, and tl^at, he told himself, he would never
do, although she would gladly help him.
"Good morning, Mr. Webster, have a c hair and a
cigar. I want to have a confidential talk with you/ The
Hon. Horace Ho.lton was at nis best.
But who will wonder that Moses Webster was too
nonplussed to articulate, much less sit down. For years
he had seen stenographers, clerks, bookkeepers, office
boys and day laborers, enter by the door he had just
closed behind him and in a few brief minutes come forth,
changed, having lost their jobs. For the time being they,
like the drug fiend denied his dope, had lost their hold
upon life. Yet here he was with a cigar in his shaking
fingers.
"Take that arm-chair, Mr. Webster." As he renewed
the invitation a smile of comprehension crossed the em
ployer s full blooded lips, and he hastened to reassure
this citizen of ours.
"I just had a talk with Price," he lied like a gentle
man with his next breath, "and as a result of our con
versation about you I have decided to raise your wages
we want to have our help satisfied, if that can be done
within reason. Let s see ; Price mentioned it, but it has
slipped my memory, how much do you get now?" A
smile that had done duty in many a close place helped his
auditor to find his tongue.
"Sixteen dollars per week, Mr. Holdon, since Price
put me in Smith s place."
"Yes, yes, and you have a family?"
"Yes sir, a wife and two little ones."
34 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Well, well; why bless me, don t you smoke?" For
answer Moses lit his cigar, and the magnate went on, "I
thought you did. You will find that a pretty good weed,
and if we agree today you will always find the box open."
Thank you," the wondering employe replied.
"Yes, yes. Well, let s get down to business. You see
it s this way, Mr. Webster ; I am away a great deal, and
when I am here there s a mountain of work piled on my
desk. Of course you can understand that a great deal
of it is of such a character that I cannot allow it to go
through the ordinary channels, it s well, confidential, or
personal, let us say. This being the case, I decided to
offer you a position here in my office. I must have a
man who is absolutely safe."
A pair of keen black eyes measured Moses as he
answered : "Yes sir, I believe I follow you."
"I had thought, if you would consider this proposition,
to offer you what was it Price suggested? ? Let me
see well, I don t recall the figure. Now, what would
you suggest?" And still that smile.
"Why, really, Mr. Holdon, I don t like to set a price,
though I assure you I feel honored, and will do my very
best to deserve your confidence."
"Well, well, it really doesn t matter what Price s fig
ure was. I believe you will be worth twenty dollars per
week to me and if that is satisfactory I will put you to
work right now and give you a little surprise for the
wife as well." Reaching into a pocket he extracted a roll
and held out a bill. "You know the Bible parable of
the Master of the vineyard and the men he hired ? Some
came in the morning, some at noon, and others at the
eleventh hour, yet they all received the same pay. This
is the eleventh hour of the week, we might say, and
here s ten dollars to add to your wages."
Moses could but lamely stammer his gratitude as he
pocketed the gift and sat down to the typewriter and
took this letter, his first assignment of work on his new
job with the Holdon Foundry Company, a part of a great
system of concentrating units of industry:
SPIES WANTED! 35
Corporations Protective Association,
Cleveland, Ohio.
Chicago,
Gentlemen Through kindness of your Mr. James,
we have had our attention called to your most excellent
undertaking. You will find herewith a draft (No. 2792)
Chicago Exchange, drawn to your order, for five hundred
dollars ($500.00), same to cover cost of membership in
your Association.
We understand that, in event of your perfecting the
organization of the Protective with at least one hundred
members, within one year from date of your prospectus,
we are entitled to have the services of two of your men,
from any trade specified, without additional cost to us,
for a period of four weeks.
Please let us know at your earliest convenience at
how early a date you could supply us with two men ma
chinist and moulder union men and good workmen.
We could use them to advantage at this time.
Trusting the draft inclosed will answer fully for our
confidence, and hearty good wishes for the success of
your much needed institution,
We are yours, etc.
As Holdon ceased dictating he leaned forward in
!his chair. "Just add another word, Mr. Webster. Tell
them not to use our firm s name, and to send all com
munications in plain envelopes marked "personal" and
addressed to me, here at the office."
When Moses had mailed the letter he took time to
ask himself this question : "What can Holdon want with
union men? has he had a change of heart?" This was
the only fly in the ointment. So one laborer, at least, went
forth from the office that evening dreaming as do those
who lave their brains in the fumes of the seductive poppy.
CHAPTER V.
JOEL TAKES THE MONEY. .
"Here, Beatrice, is a check for an even two-hundred,"
the Hon. Horace Holdon announced, drawing a slip of
paper from his bill book, as Beatrice, Joel, and Mr. C.
Augustus Wetherby entered the parlor/ on the second
day after that scene in the Holdon library, narrated a
few chapters back.
Turning to Mr. Wetherby, Mr. Holdon explained:
"My daughter is greatly interested in the poor, and while
I am not in full sympathy with her work, at least with
a part of it, she is so wrapped up in it that I have to
humor her."
"I am sure," Mr. Wetherby replied, bowing to
Beatrice, "whatever c harity Miss Holdon honors with her
preference is most highly honored. May I inquire what
organizations you patronize, Miss Holdon?"
"None, I assure you," Beatrice smiled.
"But surely I don t understand. Your father pro
duces a check, and assures us you devote money freely
to charity, and "
"I am my own organization, begging committee, ad
visory board, local agent, secretary, treasurer, mission
ary, press agent and president," and added as she took a
seat, "in the full capacity of all these several departments
of my charity organization I desire to thank Mr. Holdon
for his generous offer, and assure him I have no im
mediate need for funds, as I have called in some loans
within the last two days and so have enough means to
meet the immediate and pressing needs of the organiza
tion."
The Hon. Horace was vexed, but still held the check
in his hand. Joel whistled, and looked hard at his
spirited sister. The visitor showed his surprise as he
said : "Well, that s a new one. I ve been giving to all
sorts of charities until the old man my father, I mean
36
JOEL TAKES THE MONEY 37
has come to look upon my visits to his office as the
visits of a chanty solicitor. About all he asks me is,
How much this time, Charles? and if I start to tell
him I am not looking for funds he seems really sur
prised. And would you believe it, when I do start in to
tell him about a case he shuts me up before I can ex
plain, saying: Don t spring any sick kids or broken
bones, and I don t want to hear about some one who
must be sent to some other climate, just name the amount
and let me get it off my mind/ That s the way the
old father listens to my charity talks." He looked from
one to the other with a vacant smile, then concluded :
"And here I find a whole charity organization actually
refusing money; I call that rich."
Holdon motioned to Beatrice to take the check, push
ing it toward her over the polished table top, but the girl
shook her head.
"If Bee don t want it," Joel observed, "and will in
dorse it, I can make use of it quite handily."
The father frowned, and Wetherby laughed. "Which
shall it be Beatrice, Joel or charity?" the father ban
tered.
"It amounts to the same thing," the girl answered as
she took the check, drew a tiny gold pen from her bosom
and indorsed it with one sweep, then handed it to Joel.
Joel accepted the check, but he did have the grace to
blush. The father sat with a deepening frown as he wit
nessed the little monetary transaction, but did not com
ment upon it audibly.
"What charitable organizations do you favor with
your patronage ?" the girl inquired of Wetherby to break
an awkward silence that had fallen as Joel pocketed the
check.
"Be careful, Chuck/ Sis is down on most of them, and
believes in wading about in the filth herself she s just
trying to lead you into the shambles," Joel warned the
guest.
"Don t believe you," Wetherby protested, "Miss Hol
don may not like to feed fat paupers agents, but I ll
wager any legitimate, charity will have her approval."
"Good for you, Mr. Wetherby," Beatrice clapped her
hands, "good for you ; now I am more anxious than ever
to know what charities you support."
38 MILLS OF MAMMON
Wetherby hesitated, "Well, er the list is a long one,
Miss Holdon, and if you don t mind, I ll come out to
morrow and we can go over it together. I assure you if
there is one on the list which you do not approve, I ll
lop it off, and it won t get another cent."
Beatrice blushed, while Joel winked openly at his
father.
"Really," she protested, "I have lots of work planned
for tomorrow two trips to people in the south end,
and "
"Oh, Miss Holdon, let me go with you. I ve always
given my money to other people to spend I d be de
lighted to see where they put it." Charles Augustus
Wetherby was animated. Here was big game, and from
the looks of things he was to have the help of the male
members of the family in the hunt.
The girl looked him over keenly, questioning his
earnestness. Finally she said with evident reluctance
"If you want to see where I put all the money I can
find you may come at 9 o clock tomorrow morning now
I must bid you good afternoon."
Beatrice had won her point, and consequently felt the
more amiable, if that were possible. That check had
been less of a temptation to her than might be supposed.
She had been calling in loans since her father had said
not another cent of his money should go to feed Socialists
and the families of union men. When she had gone over
her "loan ledger" as she called the account book in which
she had been recording her little loans to people who
would not take a gift, for three years past, she was
surprised to find how much money she had loaned in that
period of time. After careful inquiry she had gone to a
number of those who had benefited by her liberality and
told them her pressing need for funds with which to help
others who were in need.
Beatrice left the library to go to John Bulman s.
When she entered the crippled boy s room he looked up
at her in such a questioning way that she knew he had
been told what a mean part her brother had played in
their life tragedy.
Bending over him she put her fingers on his lips.
"Don t say a word to me, Robert I know wnat they
JOEL TAKES THE MONEY 39
have told you it s true, and it has made me wretched,
but you won t make me suffer for what I could not help,
will you, Robert?"
The boy gently took her hand in his one well one
and said : "Nothing they could ever say would make me
believe you could do a mean thing."
That s right, Robert," she was beaming, "have faith,
nothing else matters. Faith is the sweetest flower in
life s garden ; many an ugly weed has developed beautiful
blossoms just because the beautiful flower of faith cast
its pollen upon the weed. Have faith, Robert, and who
knows but that we shall be able to get you out into that
garden before long."
John Bulman stood at the door looking at the beauti
ful woman as she bent over his crippled boy. A wave
of pain crossed his face, only to be driven back that the
old, old expression of dogged determination might take
its wonted place.
Turning from the bed Beatrice saw him and her eyes
fell, while hot blushes of shame chased across cheek and
neck. She had often told herself that she felt like a
child in need of answers to many things when she was
near this man of the workaday world. Today she felt
the guilt of her house full upon her.
"Good morning, Miss Holdon, a pleasant morning
and the promise of a fine day," John was saying, as she
looked up with trembling lips.
"Let s not talk about the weather," she pleaded. "I
want to tell you to tell you "
"You want to tell me how badly you feel about that
business at Nixon s," he assisted her; "come sit down
and we ll have it all over in a minute."
"Now," said he as she was seated by the boy s bed, "I
want to tell you that I have discovered that you are one
of the bravest "
"No, no, no," she protested, "I am a coward."
"Well, then," he smiled, "the bravest coward I ever
knew. If you had been anything less than brave you
would not have come to us after you knew your brother
had made trouble for me at the Nixon plant."
"It was a mean, contemptibly mean thing to do," her
eyes flashed, "and I told both Joel and father just what
I thought of it."
40 MILLS OF MAMMON
John s eyes danced, "And did you now? I ought to
beg your pardon for laughing, Miss Holdon, that I
should," he declared stoutly, and laughed again. In re
ply to the girl s puzzled look, he said, "After all it s only
a bit of the great game we are playing, and I ve no fault
to find either with Nixon or your brother."
"No fault to find?"
"None, Miss Holdon."
"Oh, you are only saying that because you want to
make it easy for me to forget Joel s heartlessness. You
can t meant it."
"But I do mean it. See here, Miss Holdon," he
stood before her, "it s like this; over all the world two
great forces are organizing for a mighty struggle. Capi
tal to protect what it has, and strengthen its hold upon
the productive agencies of the world ; labor to take what
it creates, and finally own the producing factors in the
social state. I am of the labor force, and if I am intel
ligent enough to teach my fellow workers to demand that
the machinery of production be turned over to them in
order that they may have the wealth they create to use in
their own homes, I certainly am dangerous to all who
are capitalists, or depend upon capitalists to support them
while they live off the labor of others. I knew when I
decided to stand for the worktrs against the world thai
sooner or later I should have to make sacrifices to my
faith. But Miss Holdon, I did not know how much would
be demanded of me within a year." As John thought of
his dead children, his crippled boy and sick wife, his
voice broke, but thrusting emotion aside he took up the
conversation. "I have faith, despite the many discourage
ments that come to one who fights for the poor and ig
norant faith, that beautiful flower you talked to Robert
about; and Miss Holdon some of the weeds are already
in bloom."
"But my father and brother?" Beatrice began.
"Don t say a word, not a word as far as I know
they play the game fair. If your father invited his men
to organize unions, and told them Socialism was all right,
if they thought so, he wouldn t last two years as a cap
italist in his present business ; and as far as your brother
is concerned, he isn t a working man." The girl winced.
JOEL TAKES THE MONEY 4!
No, I didn t mean to slur him. If he s clean and is
playing the game on the square I haven t a word to
say it s got to be played out just this way "
"You surely do not mean that he had a right to go
to Mr. Nixon and complain "
"Yes, I mean just that. He had the right to go to
Nixon and protest against his keeping me on the work
if he believed me to be a dangerous man. I had the same
right to go to your father s men and tell them that the
only thing they could do to end this war between capital
and labor would be to own the capital, the machinery and
the land, root and branch. I exercised that right, and
your brother did the thing that seemed necessary to him
in order to counteract my influence among the men."
"Your family, Mr. Bulman, all the families of the
workers, are so poor can you afford to sacrifice them in
this war, as you call it ? Beatrice asked earnestly.
"I see no choice in the matter, Miss Holdon," he re
plied, then asked : "What would you call sacrificing them ?
Are they not sacrificed day by day? How many men
and boys in your father s mills and foundry are killed or
crippled each year? Are they not sacrificed? What be
comes of their families? What becomes of the women
and children of the workers families ? Look at my fam
ily Robert crippled for life, my two girls working away
their youth for a bare existence, and all this for bread
alone. Are they not being sacrificed to the present in
dustrial system, along with the millions who make up the
army of labor? Girl, girl, you have worked faithfully
amongst your father s poorest paid laborers for years,
through good times and bad times; have you ever seen
much difference in their lives? Have you not wondered
time and again how they could bear to live as they
are forced to year in and year out? Isn t there always
more and more who need help? Isn t there always suf
fering and want? Have you ever thought where it
would end??"
"I have only wondered," the girl answered slowly.
"I did the same for years," John admitted, smiling,
"but now I know." The assertion was positive.
"You know?"
"Yes, listen: It will end when the flower of faith
brings blossoms to a majority of the weeds in life s gar-
42 MILLS OP MAMMON
den, and that time depends upon how we cultivate the
flower of faith faith in one another, faith in the great
future, faith in democracy, faith in manhood."
"How many years have you been working for what
you call the co-operative commonwealth?" Beatrice in
quired, as Bulman paused to hand Robert his medicine.
"Only a few years, Miss Holdon ; had I known when
I was a young man that I should have a part in this
struggle I would not have married, for "
"For shame, Mr. Bulman," the girl interrupted hotly,
"to say that before Robert. Why, no one had a better
right to marry than a sober, thrifty man like you."
"All that would be true provided the society that
passed upon my right to marry would also defend my
right to protect my wife and children from such degrad
ing things as you see them surrounded with, to say
nothing of protecting my son from the hungry machines
in use as wealth producers. You don t understand it,
Miss Holdon. You say I am sober and industrious ; well,
after twenty years struggle for a home you see me and
all I love in this world in poverty, and enmeshed in a
struggle that can have no ending until labor has won its
right to the product of its hands ask any of the men
who have kept clean in politics and fought the battles
of the unions all these years ; ask them if they are not
poorer today than they were ten years ago. Then look
at such men as Lewis and your father s superintendent,
and a lot of men in little political jobs, they were labor
men, and sold out. Some of them sold their unions,
others sold their manhood, their political opinions. No,
Miss Holdon, the man or woman who hopes to stand out
for the rights of the working class against all the vice and
crime and robbery of labor that goes on today must be
prepared to make sacrifice of his or her life."
But there must be a way ! There is a way !"
Beatrice exclaimed.
"Yes, there s a way an honest square-out way. Let
your father, Nixon, and all the other capitalists under
stand that this is a fight to a finish. Teach labor to know
that any compromise of the issue means more charity,
more strikes, more poverty, more crime. Then let us
all throw off our masks and meet each other fairly and
squarely upon the one issue, the ownership of the wealth
JOEL TAKES THE MONEY 43
labor has created, and the machinery and land we must
have with which to create things we will need for to
morrow. Of course, you will go on with your charity
work until you know that a sop of even your brand of
charity cannot end a class struggle in the social order."
John looked quizzically at the magnate s daughter. "Do
you know, Miss Holdon, in my estimation it would be
just as well if you left most of the people you help to
starve ?"
"Oh, Mr. Bulman, that is horrid," she protested.
"Sounds so, doesn t it ?" he, admitted with a whimsi
cal smile, "When you ve been taught to believe charity
to the poor is a part of religion."
"Mr. Bulman," the girl arose, " I have always re
spected you, yet I have known you looked upon my work
amongst the poor as foolish, but I really thought your ob
jection was based upon what you had seen of professional
charity I thought you misunderstood me."
"Lord love you, child, I never misunderstood you.
You are one of the flowers of faith ; you will come to see
the sacrifice demanded of you in time. As soon as you
come to know that the individual no longer counts as an
individual, unless he has either greater capacity for so
cial service or for social sin than the average man, the
rest will be easy. The individual must ever be measured,
so long as man holds to the path of progress, by the at
titude he assumes to the social problems of his time ;
this and this alone gives us a line upon the worth of the
individual. History is written alone about the lives of
men and women who have served both truth and error
in the great crises of time. I do not misunderstand you,
child; I know your charity is charity; and if the rest
of the world s charity were as sweet, as worthy, as pure,
there would be no need for it. Within two or three years
your work would be done." He paused, but the girl
remaining silent, he went on :
"You do good because the system that gives you
wealth also produces both poverty and crime. When you
learn to .examine the source from which vice and poverty
spring, will be time enough for me to decide in my own
mind whether or not you are to bring blossoms to the
weeds, or just bloom by yourself while spending a portion
44 MILLS OF MAMMON
of the money your father gets from the things his workers
produce for him, while the weeds grow up around you
until they finally choke out your life."
"Money, money, money ! How I hate the very sound
of that word !" Beatrice lifted her face flushed with in
dignation. "My money, father s money, what difference
can it make where my money comes from, even if father
and other rich men are opposed to your politics and
unions? If I see suffering in the homes of the working-
men I have known ever since I was a little tot, am I to
be denied the privilege of helping them, just because my
father says he cannot pay more wages, or allow Socialists
to work for him ?"
"When you understand the struggle, Miss Holdon,
you would no more offer your father s money to one of
his striking workmen than you would accept money that
had been obtained as the price of your family honor.
Your father is consistent because he understands there
jean be no sentiment in this struggle for the world s
wealth. If your house is to stand and you are to have
money for charity, the -workers must be prevented from
taking control of government through politics, or of in
dustry through organization."
"Tell me," the girl demanded, "do the majority of
the workers look upon charity, even my kind, as you do ?"
"I believe they do tho they hardly know why. You
know how hard it is to reach those amongst us who need
help the most? You also know the so-called charity or
ganizations reach more paupers than deserving poor. So
you can see we do not want your charity even when faced
by dire want but we do want the right to make our own
way in the world. We may not as yet know how to give
voice to that demand, but we are learning. And re
member, when you meet a man or woman who would
rather starve than accept even your charity you have
met one, if they could master the words, would say to
you : "M iss Holdon, your father and his friends have no
right to drive us into poverty, then send you to us with
the thing that will finally drive a great number of us into
pauperism. "
"Oh, how you must despise my work," her lips quiv
ered, and great tears welled up as she asked : "Do you
despise me as well?"
JOEL TAKES THE MONEY 45
"Despise you, child, despise you, why you have been
an angel in this house for months, even if we did not take
any of your money," he laughed to hide a deeper feel
ing, "and your work, as you call it " his eyes sought
hers, that old quizzical smile playing over his face. "Did
you ever see a sweet faced little chap playing in the
dirty street, so intent upon his labors as he heaped to
gether a pile of dust that the next gust of wind would
catch up and scatter to the farthest corners of the city
so busy that the roaring traffic of the street seemed to
him afar off?"
"Yes, and I have seen those little tots all but killed
because they had forgotten that the street was not all
their world," she answered.
"Exactly," he replied, "and that is your work as I
see it; the innocent labor of a sweet child in the world s
great thoroughfare. A work that may not endure. When
you come to know the cause of poverty you will realize
that I am right."
"So you look upon my work as that of a child in
the street?" It was a question, not a retort. Measuring
him from head to foot she asked : "Why do men like you
keep up this fight? Is it because you love the men you
seek to have join your unions and vote the Socialist
ticket?"
"Love the men," John repeated after her, "me love
them?" Smiling grimly, he plunged on, "I do not love
them. As far as I am concerned about them individually
I would not shed a tear if half of them were converted
into fertilizer between this and tomorrow." Keenly
questioning her with his eyes he asked : "Do you think
I go out on the street corners and talk to the workers,
smug faces, snobs, and thoughtless boys who congre
gate, because I love them? Well, I don t. The only
thing that keeps me in this fight is this : I fear the
power of their ignorance over my life, and the lives of
those I love."
"You fear the power of their ignorance over your life,
and the lives of those you love," she repeated after him.
CHAPTER VI.
CHARLES AUGUSTUS CHARITY LIST.
Beatrice Holdon looked out upon a world of per
plexities when she drew aside the lace draperies and
sent the slatted night shades rattling into their housings
on the morning set for her initiation into the mysteries of
the "hunt." She little dreamed that she was the quarry
the huntsman had determined to run to earth. Had she
known this, she would still have been ignorant of the
fact that he would come to the chase armed only with a
quiver of lies.
Donovan s wife had told her the evening before that
Bulman had been arrested on a street corner for talking
treason. Donovan was a worker in Holdon s foundry,
and a staunch Republican, but he declared Bulman s ar
rest ,an outrage against free speech. "Bulman has pe
culiar ideas and all that, but he s a good neighbor, and a
man," he insisted.
Beatrice was worried. That insistent sentence of Bul
man s: "I fear the power of their ignorance over my
life, and the lives of those I love," kept repeating itself
in her mind. That night in a dream she had stood before
a howling mob and hurled this pathetic denunciation into
their weird, upturned faces.
As she looked down into the dewy garden with its
wealth of early morning lights and shades and an all-
pervading perfume of sweet bloom, she thought of her
father and brother. Did she love them as she had be
fore she met the man Bulman ? Was there a fear creep
ing into her life, a fear that Bulman was right? Could
it be possible that if she knew the real cause of poverty
the desire to practice charity would die?
Did it matter where money came from, she asked her
self, and sat idly looking out over the shrubbery while
her mind wandered at will over the many problems she
had set herself to solve.
46
CHARLES AUGUSTUS CHARITY LIST 47
With a start, she remembered how much it had cost
her to go to Bulman s after her brother had acted a mean
part that was but an individual case. Bulman denied
the power of the individual to affect anything, move any
thing, until his individuality was swallowed up in the de
mands of a great class in the social order. Then, and
then only, the individuality of the stronger, abler indi
vidual would appear above the heads of the host moving
to take the vantage ground spied out by the indivivdual ;
but the individual would sink to the level of the average,
were it not that the host bore him up on their shoulders.
Would it be as hard, cost as great a sacrifice, she asked
herself, to go to the poor with her mite of charity as it
had been to go to Bulman s that last time, did she know
the true relation between rich and poor between wages
and ownership of the workers product?
If Bulman were right, even her charity was an in
sult to the poor. Jf he were wrong, she would convince
him she considered him well worth saving. It was
wretched of him to flaunt love, charity and kindliness and
insist that the struggle must grow more bitter as great
fortunes accumulated. His insistence that sickening filth,
awful crimes, wretchedness and vice, and the all but
unbearable suffering of the very poor must go on so long
as her father and Bothers took millions out of the indus
tries each year shocked her.
"Oh, it cannot be true," she told herself over and
over again. "It cannot be true. It s too hatefully hard
and cruel. Christ s life and death were meant for more
than that it can t be true."
"A gentleman to see you," her maid announced from
the door.
Getting up from the window and her dreams, Beatrice
sent her compliments and assurance that she would be
down in a short time. Standing before the mirror after
the girl had gone she looked beyond the reflection of her
superb person, and asked: "Why not ask him? His
people are of the real aristocracy the aristocracy of
birth while I, if I belong at all, am but one of the new
rich. And Beatrice, my dear, there s a vast difference
between the worth of a family pride built upon the lives
of men and women who have been of worth to the world
through long generations of family building, and one
48 MILLS OF MAMMON
built upon a difference in the price of pork or pig-iron
yesterday and today anyway, he ought to know. He s
given liberally to charity, and all the people I know,
even Joel says he s too good to live I ll ask him."
While Beatrice was prepared to treat him as an oracle,
C. Augustus Wetherby was putting the finishing touches
to a fixed determination to win her, and incidentally the
Holdon millions.
"Confounded bore some of the fellows would call
this charity stunt," he chuckled, "but it s got several re
deeming features especially when the woman furnishes
the coin. First, it gives her a whole lot to think about
besides her husband ; next, it gives him an opportunity to
develop some charity work of his own ; and that coupled
to business and the club ought to give a fellow leeway
enough and, by gad! the girl s worth it. Got spirit,
good figure, and stunning good looks, by gad ! And I m
the candy. Anything she sees I see whatever she wants
done I do it." He faced the door through which he ex
pected her to enter. "My jewel," he whispered, "I am
Naomi turned inside out, made up-to-date and to order.
Your people shall be my people, however much they may
smell of onions, garlic and frouzy cheese. Your God
shall be my God, even if he calls me into a Free Method
ist camp-meeting where heels rule higher than thinking
machines. I am yours a sacrifice on the altar of love,
and "
"Good morning, Mr. Wetherby." The voice came
from behind him, and he was disconcerted.
"Oh, I beg your pardon. Did my sudden salutation
startle you?"
"I assure you it did it was as though the goddess
of the morning had as sumed shape and voice." Noting
her quick frown, he hurried on, as he offered his hand,
"You see I was so absorbed in the thought of meeting
upon common ground, one who believes in in in well,
to use the plain every day term believes in charity."
"And you really believe in charity ?" Her whole heart
was in the question.
"Why yes, don t you?"
"Oh, yes ; I have for years ; but some people say such
horrid things against it; while so many who claim to
CHARLES AUGUSTUS* CHARITY LIST 49
know all about it say in just so many words that my
work is not charitable at all "
"They re beasts!" the gallant lover exploded, and
begged pardon the next instant: "I mean they re worse
than why Miss Holdon your work is is in fact, is
above reproach." He drew his handkerchief from the
pocket from which it peeped so gracefully, and indus
triously wiping his ruddy countenance sought to get
back to earth.
"I am glad to have your approval," his hostess as
sured him as she led the way to the library.
When they were seated she went on : "I thought we
might as well spend an hour or so on your charitable
organizations before going out. You see, the women will
not have their work done up much before 10 o clock, and
by that time I can have a pretty fair understanding of the
difference between your pet charities and my own work."
Mr. Wetherby sat limp by the great library table,
occasionally lifting his eyes to the girl on the other side.
"Did you bring the list along?" she inquired, smiling
sweetly across at him.
"Oh yes, certainly," he thrust a hand into his pockets
one after another and finally produced the document.
"Now don t you think if you were to let me take the
list and run through it, you could explain the aims, ob
jects and methods of work employed by these organiza
tions?" She reached for the paper. He hesitated, but
being unable to formulate an excuse for refusing her re
quest, reluctantly handed it to her.
Beatrice took the list, comprising some two dozen or
ganizations. Some of them were quite well known to her,
and as she read her face grew radiant with hope. This
young man was a charity worker. He would understand
her troubles. He should be the link necessary to
strengthen her against Bulman s attacks.
"My, you are a worker! She looked her admiration
and entirely misunderstood his blushes. "And do you
support all these institutions?" she asked.
"Yes/ he answered.
"It s lovely, perfectly lovely. Why, Mr. Wetherby,
I never thought of any one being so liberal in his support
of sweet charity." With eyes intent upon the end of her
50 MILLS OF MAMMON
right forefinger as it slowly checked off his hastily pre
pared charities, he was startled by her next speech.
"Oh, Mr. Wetherby, I ve found something. Here s
Andrews Woman s Home on your list now, I wonder
how much you have given them ?" The visitor moved un
easily in his chair.
"How much? You surely know why, I can tell to
a dollar what each of my cases has cost me."
"Of course I know," C. Augustus replied quickly.
Here was something he thought he might play to the
limit and s he couldn t catch him. "You see I couldn t
name the figure offhand without well, I believe I do
know, for a wonder. Yes, I gave them fifty dollars six
months ago, and last month they came to me with a poor
mouth and I put up a cool hundred."
"You did !" she exclaimed. Getting up hurriedly she
left the table and soon returned with a large scrap-
book. "Well," she declared triumphantly, "you were
robbed of just one hundred and fifty dollars. Read that."
For a year Beatrice, in defense of her system of
giving, had been gathering every scrap of evidence pub
lished in the press of the city relative to charity frauds.
The volume of evidence she handed across the table to
her guest told, in a clipping at the end of her finger, of
the raiding of the "Andrews Home," and laid bare the
system of robbery practiced alike upon the public and
the poor women it was supposed to support.
"And only last month you gave them one hundred
dollars. It almost makes me cry when I think of the
good I could have done with it and they were exposed
in all the papers three months ago."
"I assure you, Miss Holdon, I do not give as blindly
as that as a rule." The visitor had assumed a fine air of
superiority, but it evaporated suddenly as she began :
"I believe you agreed to cut out all unworthy organ
izations, did you not?" C. Augustus nodded in the af
firmative. "Then here goes the pencil through this one.
Blind Man s Protective Union, " she slowly read from
the list, and asked "what do you know about this one?"
With elbows on the table before her, and a sweet, dimpled
chin supported by an arch formed of interlocked hand,
the girl sat regarding the representative of organized
charity.
CHARLES AUGUSTUS CHARITY LIST 5!
"Well, yes, I can tell you something about that one.
They re a jolly nest of old bats, and "
"Old bats?" the inflection was strong.
"Yes, that s what they call each other sort of a pet
name they re all right, all right."
"What does this union do for them, may I ask?"
"Do for them? Why, it furnishes them a club room
with pool and billiards and, and lots of things," he
insisted.
"Pool ? So the old bats play pool. Now Mr. Weth-
erby, would you mind telling me what, kind of pool those
blind men play?"
He stared at her for a moment, then the answer came,
and he wondered a hundred times afterward how it hap
pened to slip out.
"Blind pool of course."
The girl shrugged her shoulders, drew the pencil
across the "Old Bats Union," then gave her attention
to the next on the list, while Mr. Wetherby wondered
what next, and thanked his lucky stars she had not
pressed the Old Bats further.
"The Little Ones Provident Association," she read
from the list, and asked : "What do you know about it?"
"Oh, that s one I got interested in through an old
hen I beg your pardon, an old lady who brought me a
prospectus a long time ago, and I ve kept giving when
ever they sent for the mazuma."
Beatrice got up from the table. "Mr. Wetherby," she
said, "I must insist that you treat me differently no, not
me, but the thing we are discussing. Old hen and ma
zuma may sound all right when a lot of thoughtless
young fellows are together; but here with me it isn t
just the language one would "
"I implore your forgiveness, Miss Holdon. Please
believe me, I meant neither disrespect to you, to char
ity, or to the others I was thoughtless." .Beatrice ac
cepted the apology as sincere, and said as she took her
seat:
"I may have been rude I was, but I am so in earn
est, and I do so need your help, and you seemed "
"I seemed a fool," he broke in, "but I am not; and
you shall have my help. I want to confess that I don t
know a thing about those charities," pointing to the list.
52 MILLS OF MAMMON
"What money I have given to charity has simply been
given I never asked, knew, or cared where it went." He
drew a deep breath and looked at her squarely. "There,
it s out at last, but if you had pushed on down that list
I d have put my foot into it deeper and deeper, so I
thought I had best make a clean breast of it. Will you
forgave me?"
Ignoring his offence as well as his plea for forgive
ness, she asked:
"And you gave all your money to organizations you
knew nothing about, and never knew whether it reached
those it was intended for or not ?"
"That s about the size of it," he admitted, and lied
like a gentleman, for he had never given a cent to charity
in his life, tho he had managed to gain a reputation as
a charity worker, and any number of dollars from his
father whom he had taught to believe the fiction.
Beatrice was looking beyond him, her eyes suffused
with unshed tears, as she said : "I wanted to ask you
some questions this morning. I need help so badly
that "
"Tell me what you want. I ll do all you ask why,
Miss Holdon, I ll throw that infernal list in the fire we
won t even think of it again." She heard little, or at
least heeded but little, that he was saying, and startled
him with her next question.
"Do you know anything about the working people?
What they talk, what they think?" She was thinking of
her last visit to Bulman s.
Wetherby got instantly to his feet, and striking the
table with his fist exclaimed: "Now you give me some
thing to talk upon. Why, Miss Holdon, I know the
working people like a book. They talk rot. The lazy
beggars would be paupers if they were not driven to
work why, they re so ignorant that any flannel-mouthed
chump can organize them to strike, and murder, and
chase after red flags. And by the eternal, their brats are
as impudent today as their fathers were ten years ago."
"Do you believe they do not think that they must
be driven to work?" The question came in level tones.
"I know it. Hasn t the old I beg your pardon my
father had all kinds of trouble in his refineries for ten
years? What do they expect? Automobiles and pianos
CHARLES AUGUSTUS CHARITY LIST 53
for their disgustingly dirty shacks? Miss Holdon, such
men as your father and mine stand between the working-
cattle and starvation, yet they are talking today of taking
our property away from us."
"Still you contend they do not think?"
"Why as for that, I suppose they call it thinking, but
I tell you it s nothing in God s world but anarchy. What
would you think if it was put to you squarely to give
them all your wealth and let them divide the profits of
your father s business amongst them?" Confident of the
answer he waited.
After due deliberation she replied: "If it would lift
from their homes the blight of poverty and make them
and their children happier and better, I would say amen."
He sat down suddenly and looked at her with a grow
ing wonder in his eyes.
"I fear the power of their ignorance over my life,"
she repeated aloud, and the man took it as a text.
"That s it," he exclaimed, "the power of their ignor
ance over our lives. You let them get the upper hand.
Let those ignorant demagogues rant and rave, and the
ignorant ones will be the first to follow. As soon as the
noise gets high enough the rest will fall in line, and
hell I beg your pardon, but I mean it hell will be to
pay. I tell you we have got to keep the laboring people
in their place. If the laborer wasn t so beastly ignorant
he would know who to thank for his bread and butter.
You never said truer words in your life it s the thing
we rich men have most to fear the power of their ig
norance over our lives. Just look at the trouble we are
having with them now, and more coming."
"But it was a laboring man who said that, not I," she
interrupted. "And he said it of his own class, meaning,
that the rich could do anything they wanted to with the
workers, and for that reason he feared them."
"Like their impudence," was his only comment.
They sat silent for a time, then Beatrice said : "Mr.
Wetherby, I want to know which is right, you or this
workingman. I am in deadly earnest. It seems to me
you are too partisan. Yet, when I think of it, I know a
Socialist who contends that your attitude toward labor is
the only honest one an employer may hold. He says in
so many words that the logical attitude for an employ-
54 MILLS OF MAMMON
ing capitalist is to buy labor in the cheapest market and
sell the laborers product in the highest and on top of
that asserts his faith in our ultimate overthrow. The
thing I want to get at is the cause that must underlie
such extreme opinions as Mr. Bulman and you hold. I
know so little, and hope so much I want to find a mid
dle ground where I may exist and be comfortable. I
cannot be comfortable with all the vice, and crime, and
poverty, and strife I see about me. I hoped so much
from our discussion this morning and you are even
more bitter than my brother, if that be possible."
While the girl sat silent, thinking how deeply she had
been disappointed, yet how fully her faith in her own
work had been vindicated, as against organized charity,
her visitor was busy rearranging his lines of battle.
Woman has always been a puzzle to man and worth
a life of labor, even though death come before the solu
tion. Wetherby felt that the young woman across the
table from him was the limit, he also felt that he would
need time in which to equip himself for the battle, and
was greatly relieved when she said :
"I had expected to have you escort me to several
places I must visit today, but your limited knowledge of
real charity, coupled with your extreme views upon the
integrity of the working people, makes me doubt the
the wisdom of expc.sing you to a nearer view of their
disgustingly dirty shacks/ There was a wealth of
contempt in her voice, and it went home.
"I am sorry to have offended ; sorry to have suffered
in your good opinion. However, you misjudge me. I
need to learn may I come again when I have had time
to investigate some of the things we have discussed?"
He left with a reluctant consent to his plea.
CHAPTER VII.
WHO IS JOHN BULMAN?
"Who is John Bulman?" a stranger in the city asked
of a friend who was quoting Bulman, and urging this
stranger to hear him.
"Bulman is a man, besides he is a husband, father,
citizen, mechanic and student; yet, withal, those who sit
in judgment upon the world say he is a fool, and prove
it to the satisfaction of the majority of those who care
to listen."
"Why is this man a fool?" the stranger asked.
"Because," the other answered, "his life is one long-
drawn-out sacrifice for the things he believes because
he refuses to live a lie refuses to eat from the meat pots
of his time more than enough to keep soul and body to
gether."
"That is heroic, not foolish !" the stranger exclaimed.
"Surely," the friend smiled, "the man who comes up
out of the ruck of labor and brings with him both a beau
tiful faith and a fixed purpose a purpose that even the
crying needs of his own family may not shake, is a man
well worthy the respect of even a bitter enemy."
"Why do they call him a fool, if he possesses all
these fine attributes?" the stranger questioned.
"Because he is a Socialist."
"I don t blame them. This Bulman is crazy," the
stranger replied instantly.
"Let us take a closer look at this man before we de
cide so weighty a question," the friend insisted, smiling,
and straightway they discussed not Bulman, but his phil
osophy. Let me touch the life of this man they have
forgotten, then pass on.
In his young manhood, this "fool" lived up to his
present reputation, but talked like a philosopher. Born a
mechanic, he was fortunate above the majority of his
fellows in that when the fates were unkind when he
55
56 MILLS OF MAMMON
struggled to get away from the need of hard labor he
could always go back to his tools. And he had often
gone back, and as often measured his talents against the
cunning of other men. The world says he has failed.
When yon have finished this story you will ask yourself
the same old question regarding this man. To-day he is
one of the three most pitiful sights this world holds a
jobless father with mouths to feed a fallen woman a
laboring child.
John was but one of a brood of children and fought
his way to a fair education. Since he refused to be
bound by the religion of his mother, or subscribe to the
politics of his father, the other members of the family
who love the savory smell of the flesh pots had come to
accept the judgment of the world upon their brother.
John Bulman has been out of work for just a month
we m*y understand him better if we go to his home
to-night.
A brother living in a distant city had been called to
our metropolis on business and had sought out this
"fool" the only member of the Bulman family who is
not satisfied to be saved and to save dollars.
"Well, John, got sickness in the family?" was the
first utterance of the prosperous one in the home of the
"fool."
"Yes, wife has been under the weather for a while
from worrying over the boy you see Robert met with
an accident, but the girls are well, and I am rugged."
The "fool" stretched himself to his full height and sur
veyed the well groomed man before him.
"Well, it s too bad, too bad; but how s your work?
You re with the Nixon Company, are you not?"
"I was," John answered, "until they demanded that I
surrender my political convictions as the price of my
job."
"Ah, that s it. I had forgotten but, John, you don t
mean to tell me you couldn t dodge that to save your
job when your wife and boy are ill. Why, you are in
no position to be independent." The prosperous member
of the family was in earnest.
"Oh, I realize that," John replied, "but much as I
love my family, I do not love them better than other
thousands of men have loved. They dodged the issue;
WHO IS JOHN BULMAN ? 57
their families lived for a time on the price of their sur
render, but the issue they dodged still lives, while other
men s wives and babies are starving for the want of more
than food "
"There you go again," the brother interrupted, tes
tily. "Socialism, nothing but Socialism. I just thought
that when they told me down the street that you were
not working." The brother put a hand on John s shoul
der and added: "John, you don t need to be a Socialist.
You have some talent, and can make your way in the
world. You don t need to take up this cry of the rab
ble."
"I don t need to be a Socialist?"
"No, and I tell you frankly, I wouldn t have a work
er in my shops going about amongst the men trying to
make them discontented." The prosperous citizen was
brutally frank. This fool brother should get no encour
agement from him.
"But I do even worse things than you mention," John
replied.
"Worse things!"
"Yes, I go out on street corners, in halls, any place
they will have me, and urge the workers to organize for
the overthrow of capitalism." The "fool s" face was
aglow.
"Do you wonder that you were discharged? What
could you expect?"
"Brother," the fool replied, "I have not said I ex
pected anything else I have not complained."
"But, man alive, think of your family! What does
the Bible say the man who will not provide for his
family is worse than an infidel that s it. Worse than
an infidel." Two well saved eyes accuse, but the "fool"
does not blench.
"Oh, yes, I seem to remember," he replied, "and I
also recall some other passages of holy writ: Ye shall
not grind the faces of the poor, and this one: Hypo
crites, how shall you escape damnation you are as
whited sepulchers filled with dead men s bones. Yes,
the Bible offers consolation to all sorts and conditions of
men while as many commencing the other way around,
find in it condemnation for the other fellow. But
brother," he added, seriously, "it seems to me we are
58 MILLS OF MAMMON
wasting your valuable time. I have no present hope of
bringing you to see the world as I see it, and I assure
you, you cannot take me back to your religion or your
politics it s useless ; let us drop it."
"I cannot. I dare not. It seems to me the Lord
must have sent me here at this time, as he sent his
apostles of old," the brother announced with unction.
"John, you are ruining your life ; your home ; the chances
of your children."
"He who would save his life shall lose it," John said,
and for the first time a note of anger showed in his
brother s voice as he said:
"I despise to hear people who have refused Christ
and His salvation eternally quoting the Bible."
John s mellow laugh rang out, but he checked him
self. "Brother, I beg your pardon but your retort was
discourteous suppose we Socialists were to offer that
sort of argument when men question our philosophy ?"
"That s not argument, John, not argument. The
Bible is an inspired work, while the trash you believe is
the product of men who were every one of them soured
failures."
"Brother," John took a peep into Robert s room,
"don t you think the weather a safer topic, or would you
like to take a look at the boy? He has been cooped up
here so long that any one from the outside is a great
treat to him."
"John s weakening," the good brother thought, as
they went into the boy s room.
"Why, Miss Holdon, you here?" John had not seen
her when he looked into the room a moment before, and
went on: "This is my brother, Miss Holdon, he has
just been reading the law to me. He says I don t need
to be a Socialist, and all that. You two ought to be
friends."
There was a deep reproach in the girl s eyes as she
looked up at John, but it was a smiling face, the saved
and sane brother looked into as he took her hand.
"Now, you two can say things about me to your
heart s content, but I ought to warn you that if you go
beyond a certain limit Robert will tell me, won t you
Bob?" the father asked, stroking the pale boy s dark
hair. As he turned to leave the room, he said in ex-
WHO IS JOHN BULMAN? 59
planation of his departure : "I promised to meet a man
over in the next block at this time, and as there is hope
of getting a job out of it I know you will excuse me."
The prosperous brother felt ill at ease when left with
Miss Holdon and the boy. Everything about her told of
wealth and refinement, and the only connection to his
mind between this poor cottage housing a crippled boy,
a sick woman and a man out of work spelled charity.
He did not know of the great gulf that divides poverty
from pauperism. He did feel that his dignity, his fam
ily, was being made to suffer keenly, and he credited
himself with bearing the burden for the entire Bulman
family at that moment. With this thought uppermost,
he decided that he would not try to shield his criminally
foolish brother. He would give the young woman to
understand that the rest of the Bulman family were
made of better stuff than that developed in the person of
the "fool."
"I presume you are engaged in charity work," he
began.
Beatrice answered "Yes," and fell to wondering what
sort of man he was. He carried his head well, looked
clean, but seemed to be laboring under some embarrass
ment.
"I am very glad I have met you here, for I want you
to know that the rest of the Bulmans are not like John
and " a long pause.
"Not like John?" she questioned, seeing he was at a
loss for words.
"No," said he, "so far as I know he is the only black
sheep in the family, and I assure you we feel the dis
grace. The idea of a man of his ability being such a
fool. Look at his family. His home. And he talking
Socialism and allowing you to feed his children. It s
disgraceful. Absolutely disgraceful." He strode up and
down the narrow confines of the room. "If he was act
ually in need, on account of some misfortune his own
family I, myself, would help him."
"But, Mr. Bulman, you don t understand "
"I do understand. John is a fool. The idea "
"Hush," her hand lay upon the outraged citizen s
arm, "Robert is crying, and and you are terribly mis
taken your brother would not accept a penny of my
60 MILLS OF MAMMON
money. He hates what the world calls charity, and I
believe, has a much better reason for hating it than you
can possibly have."
"Hates charity, Miss Holdon, and yet for a fool no
tion brings his family to a condition where they may be
forced to accept it to-morrow? Really, I can t grasp it
I can conceive how you may be interested in this poor
boy and John s wife, but you must know in your own
heart that my brother is throwing himself and family
into the gutter. Why, what chance can these children
have compared to the advantages I can give mine?
and John was my superior in many ways when we were
young men."
"You do your brother a cruel injustice," the girl
answered quietly. "He is the grandest man I know he
has conquered himself. Won t you try to understand
him, Mr. Bulman? He has put the world before his
own family, and dollars and cents mean nothing to him
beyond the satisfying of the simple wants of his family.
He is fighting a battle for other men s children yes,
and fighting for men who are too weak, too ignorant, too
selfish, to think beyond to-day."
"Are you a Socialist?" he demanded.
"No I am more than half a coward, the rest uncer
tainty," she replied.
"I don t quite catch your meaning, Miss Holdon, but
surely, all other things aside, you cannot defend John,
or justify him in jeopardizing his family s support to
the extent of giving up his work because they couldn t
stand for his his well, let s say stirring up the men?"
For a moment Beatrice sat silent, her eyes upon the
face of John s crippled son, then she looked up with a
smile.
"Mr. Bulman, are you a Christian?" she asked.
"Land, yes ! I ve been an active worker in the
church for years."
"You believe in religious and political liberty, do you
not?"
"Certainly ; the two are practically inseparable but,
may I ask what this has to do with John s case? You
know I am not on trial," he laughed.
Beatrice s face was seriousness itself as she answered,
"We are all on trial."
WHO IS JOHN BULMAN? 6l
"Oh, yes, I suppose that is true to a certain extent,
Miss Holdon, but when a man has made his peace with
God, as long as he follows in the strait and narrow way,
the burden is light and the way plain."
"But suppose you went down to the shops to work
some morning and the president of the company should
send for you to go to the office and should tell you that
a gentleman who was there with him, had informed him
that you were a Christian, and you should answer : Yes,
I am a Christian, and am proud of it, and he should
say, Well, either you give me your promise this morn
ing to give up Christianity or you must quit work/ what
would you do?"
"The supposition is ridiculous I beg your pardon,
but it is ridiculous!" he declared with vehemence. "In
the first place this is a Christian land; in the second
place the cases are not parallel."
"Yet you say you believe in political liberty, and ad
mit that religious and political liberty are inseparable."
"Surely, you don t want me to believe you dignify
John s dreams by calling them either political or re
ligious?" he insisted.
"Mr. Bulman," she replied, "your brother is not a
dreamer. All the evils he fights are realities, and he be
lieves it possible to destroy them. And I will. venture
that his politics is dearer to him and has cost him more
of sacrifice than my religion could cost me in a thousand
years. When Mr. Nixon demanded that he either give
up his political convictions or his work, he asked your
brother to give up more than any religion he demanded
the surrender of a man he asked that another mental
slave be born into the world, and God knows we have too
many of them already." The girl arose, and bending
over the boy, said: "Mr. Bulman, your brother is of
more worth to the world than any thousand men who
have sold their convictions." Kissing the boy, whose
bright eyes thanked her a thousand fold for her defense
of his father, she quitted the room.
The clock ticks off the passing time in this humble cot
tage, but it does not toll off the seconds in dollars and
cents, dollars and cents, dollars and cents. Privation,
privation, privation, are the words that come from its
rusty throat.
62 - MILLS OF MAMMON
The prosperous man sat thinking while waiting the
return of his brother. So this was the daughter of a
great millionaire and she championed the fool of the
family. She said she was not a Socialist well, probably
this charity work had made a crank of her. He had
often heard that women, and even men, who had given,
years to work amongst the poor got into a way of being
very uncomfortable themselves and made others almost
as nervous as well. No wonder John was "set" when
he had such encouragement. That was all bosh about re
ligion but the girl would make a good lawyer. He
wished John would hurry home on second thought, he
was rather glad he had not come it would be best for
him to go to a hotel for the night anyway. He couldn t
offer John money even a loan was out of the question
just then. It did beat the dickens where money went.
If John did get in the ditch, and would let him know, he
would write the other members of the family and lay
the case before them. But that girl he hadn t expected
to hear anything like that from her. He was glad John
had not taken any of her money; he would say that
much. "Fm mighty glad I wouldn t listen to him when
he wanted to carry me away with him on his chase
after rainbows fifteen years ago," was his thought as he
surveyed the poverty of the room, and the crippled boy
and the lean bed. The four other rooms he had seen
came up before his mind s eye he saw his brother
walking the streets looking for work ; the two daughters,
of fourteen and sixteen, working, working, working,
day after day; the sick wife, worn out in the years that
of right should be ushering her into the mother s earth
ly paradise the enjoyment of her children all of this
he saw then his own home flashed before his mental
vision. His home supported at a cost of two hundred
dollars a month. Still they were not satisfied with what
he could give them ; his income often falling short of
meeting the demands made upon it by his wife and two
children yet, if the deal that had brought him to the
city were successful and it promised well he would
double his income; his family would then be satisfied.
Dreaming, dreaming, the wise man in the home of a
fool hugged himself and smiled.
Of course, this wretched poverty was terrible, but
WHO IS JOHN BULMAN? 63
John had made his bed and must lie in it. Still, the wise
man felt good the business set for to-morrow looked
good. He reached into a pocket and brought forth a
gold coin.
"Here, Robert, is a little present from your uncle."
He tossed the coin within reach of the boy s well hand.
"Thanks, uncle," Robert answered, tossing it back,
"I couldn t take it after what you said about my father.
Miss Holdon knows he s the best father in the world.
I don t need anything he can t get for me." The boy s
eyes were bright and hard. Here was another social
rebel born to battle for the right to a full and free man
hood. A brave spirit doomed to imprisonment in a
crippled body because greed had ground that body under
its iron heel.
"A chip off the old block," the prosperous man mut
tered as he stooped to pick up the piece of gold. He
looked sternly at the boy upon the lean bed.
"Robert, you may have as little understanding of
the value of money as your father, but I ll warrant that
the girls and your mother will know what to do with it,"
he ventured, as he laid the coin on the rickety little table.
"Don t you leave it," Robert panted, lifting himself
until the pain in his maimed body showed through every
feature on his thin face "don t you leave it, unless you
want me to tell them all the mean things you said about
my father. I don t want to tell them, but if you leave
that money I will, and none of them will touch it."
As he sank back upon his pillow the prosperous man
took up his gold and silently left the room.
CHAPTER VIII.
MARTHA MOVES TO TOWN,
Charles Harris is neither more nor less worthy of
consideration at our hands than are the millions of his
fellow toilers who plan, build and man our mighty en
gines of industry. Are they not planning for the greater
machines of to-morrow? And will they not be asked to
give life and limb to the building, together with a life
slavery at the machine when it is finished? If happily
their children escape the honor of being tied to the great
crunching jaws of these man-built engines we shall have
solved a mighty problem, and their labor will not have
been in vain.
This young mechanic of ours came of clean stock,
as we have seen, and had been allowed to follow his bent
for mechanics without parental interference, his parents
being too poor to harbor ambitions for him above the
simple life of a clean living worker.
Thus we find the youth thinking day and night of the
flasks, compounds, cams, cogs, pinions, levers, eccentrics,
etc., etc., that shall constitute, when assembled, a mould
ing machine in which a perfect casting may be produced
at a tithe of the cost of hand labor. As he bends to his
task over a pile of moulder s sand, or takes his turn at
the ladle in Winslow s foundry, his mind is also bent
bent to the task he has determined to finish.
In the residence district of the town in which Charles
Harris found employment after leaving home, is the
residence of "Jed" and Martha Holcomb, who sold the
old "Plummer place" and rented the "home farm" in
order to give Mary the advantage of an education above
that obtained by the daughters of the average farmer.
Dr. Norton s wife is still telling the story of Martha
Holcomb s arrival in the city as a fixture, and we append
it here:
Martha, the mother of Mary, Moses and Peter, had
64
I swan ef I hain t most forgot all I wanted to ask you a-seein that pesky
nig-g-er a diddlin an a daddlin with that carpet." Fagfe 65.
MARTHA MOVES TO TOWN 65
not yet taken the last feather bed from the line, where it
had been hung, together with its fellows, to air upon its
arrival in town at the very peak of a hay ladder load of
her household goods, before she was somewhat convers
ant with the neighborhood into which she was being
transplanted.
"I say, there," she called to the doctor s wife, who
stood in a neighboring yard directing the operations of a
colored man who seemed bent upon putting in the re
mainder of the day beating at a single rug, while a dozen
others lay ready for like treatment. The doctor s wife
turned from the negro to face her new neighbor, who
had advanced to the low partition fence.
"Be you a Baptis ?"
The negro paused, his arm uplifted.
"Why, yes," the doctor s wife answered in surprise;
then to the darkey said: "Toe, if you don t do your
work better, I ll surely have to get " She paused
there for two very good reasons. The negro went to
work as though his life depended upon it, and the neigh
bor across the fence was talking.
"Glad to hear it," Martha responded / but I swan ef
I hain t most forgot all I wanted to ask you a-seein
that pesky nigger a diddlin an a daddlin with that car
pet why, he s bin most all afternoon a spattin that one
piece. How much d you hev t pay a critter like that? I
wouldn t give im house room. I d a heap druther hev
one of them Jew peddlers sleep in my spare bed than t
have him in th barn now, who s livin on th other side
of us? an what church is that down th street? I told
Jed, he s my husband, an I told Mary, that s th slim-
mist one of th two you seen in th yard whilst you peeked
out of that squatty little winder " the woman on
tfre other side of the fence blushed and started to stam
mer either an excuse or denial, but the new neighbor
waved speech from that quarter aside and proceeded:
"Oh, I didn t mind; I says to Mary when she noticed
you, I reckon that s town manners, I says, an anyway
I m goin t be neighbors an which church did you say
it was?"
"The Universalist church." It was the first chance
Mrs. Norton had to answer a question, and as for Joe,
he had lost all interest in his rugs.
66 MILLS OF MAMMON
"You don t say! A Universalite church right in our
door yard, as you might say. That s just like Jed Hoi-
comb; I told him t be sure an not t git into no disrep-
table neighborhood, an here he goes an sets hisself in a
stone s throw of them heathens an you re a Baptis ?
an what might your husband s business be?"
"My husband s a doctor Joe put another rug on the
line, that one will have to do/
"So he s a doctor any new babies hereabouts?"
With both headshake and smile the wife answered in
the negative.
"Could you say who them people is that went out in
one of them newfangled contraptions they call a auto
mobile, jest as we was a-comin in with th last load
them as lives over th way in that house with all of them
thingymediddles on th portico? *
"Oh, that s Mr. Judson s place ; he s a board of trade
man Joe, you must get those rugs done."
"Well, I declare ! A board of trade man, an a Uni
versalite church, an all in th same yard, as you might
say. You wait, I swan if Jed don t git a piece of my
mind. I said partickler, when him an Mary wanted t
sell th lower farm an move t town, Jed Holcomb, says
I, Tm a Baptis , an I m not a-goin t give up my pure
an undefiled life fer neither of you, nor for nobody. If
you two s set, I says, on a movin t town you got t
hunt up a good Christian neighborhood fer me t live in
you jest wait till I git "
"Mother, come here. We want to know how you
want these curtains put up," a girlish voice called from
the Holcomb back door.
"So you re a Baptis well, I m right glad. I ve got
t go now, but I ll run. right over th first thing in th
morning an git acquainted. We ll be glad t hev some
one t go t church with t sort of break th ice fer us, as
you might say." Martha had had one eye on Joe while
she was visitin with her neighbor, and as she turned to
go to the house, she threw this at him over her shoulder :
"I d like t hev th runnin of you, you lazy, good-fer-
nothin , I d soon take that grin out of you."
The doctor s wife was still looking blankly at the
door behind which her new neighbor had disappeared
but the moment before, when she was recalled to the
MARTHA MOVES TO TOWN 6?
present by the sound of a well-grown chuckle behind
her. As she turned to look at Joe, he touched his cap
and said: "She s a-comin back in the mornin ," then
gave way to another burst of mirth.
"You hardly expect me to laugh with you, do you
Joe?" the doctor s wife asked, grimly, as she turned to
the house.
Joe scratched his head, took a leisurely survey of the
neighborhood, then fell upon the rug and beat it with a
will. "Ise mighty glad my ole oman s a Meffodes an
I reckon Misses Norton am right she hain t no laugh
a-comin long as dis new one am a Baptis like herself."
; I AFTER IX.
A WCSHIPER AND A REBEL.
Six children wor born to Jed and Martha Holcomb;
three died in infacy and for each visit of the grim
reaper to her horn Martha charged herself with some
great and grievou-. .11 against the inflexible laws of her
God. After acceptig her losses as direct manifestation
of the displeasure c Deity, there remained but one thing
to do, and she di
Her hand was : iron and found occupation almost
daily in administer!^ punishment upon the children left
to her care. Her :ngue was vitriol, and its harsh out
pourings, its viciou threats even against the lives of her
little ones, drove oe to rebellion against both her re
ligion and her la\v. while a second defended himself by
practicing dissimuition.
Moses, the oldst son left to them, resented the whip
pings and harsh cnimands of his mother, while secretly
pitying his father *ho suffered the rasping peevishness
of his mentally unalanced wife in silence.
One Sunday mrning, for some trivial mischief com
mitted by Peter an Mary, Moses was soundly whipped,
then ordered into le straight-laced uniform assigned to
the Christian s Sabath, and with the rest of the family
hauled to church in the way he leaned over and shak
ing his clinched st in his brother s face, whispered:
"If I git home aK* I m going to half kill you for lying
on me this mornm."
"Half kill yoi and "beat your brains out," together
with "skin you ave" were favorite expressions with
the Christian moter of Moses, aged ten, and Peter, aged
eight. By these eciearments she sought to convey love s
message to her ciidren.
Moses knew te lesson for that particular Sabbath
dealt with the heious sin of blasphemy, and one of the
lesson helps he hd studied with the rest dealt with the
68
A WORSHIPER AND A REBEL 69
fool who had said in his heart there is no God. The text
was illuminated by incidents quoted from the lives of
ancient peoples, wherein those who had been foolish
enough to curse God had straightway been executed. As
a further support to the text, incidents said to belong to
present day happenings were brought forward to prove
that the Lord still dealt out swift justice against all who
would dare doubt his existence.
Moses, smarting under the stripes of the lash, and
suffering in his proud young soul all the tortures of the
damned, had decided to end it all as soon as he got to the
church. He would have cursed God out in the barn
where he went to salve his bruise- with tears he dare
not shed under the eyes of the family if he had not
wanted to make sure of finishing the thing, and he right
ly judged that God, if he struck at all. would strike
harder if he were cursed in his own house than if the
awful sin were committed in a barn.
The rebel was ready for death. Life to him was but
a rag: all of the big world s beauties were hidden from
him : chattel slavery, made more hateful to him by con
stant reminders that he was not worth his salt, that he
never stopped to think how much he owed his parents,
added to the weight of a cruel mother s hand wielding
a slave driver s right to beat the body of the slave with
thongs of leather, and stinging serpents of hickory, had
finished their work on this one boy.
The son of a sanctified mother was ready to deny
God and die. Strange? Xo. there was nothing strange
about the case. Moses Holcomb was a bound slave to
his mother s one hundred religious don ts do you won
der that he looked upon both mother and God from a
single viewpoint?
Arrived at church he sat stony-eyed while the min
ister and congregation read the lesson, then, when the
bustle of arranging classes had subsided, he set himself
to the task of defying God the God in whom all the
people he saw professed to believe with one mind and
one heart.
"There is no God. There is no God. I want to die.
I want to die. It s a He, I want to die/ he repeated
over and over. Then waited for the bolt to fall, and
was surprised as the old clock ticked off the seconds and
7O MILLS OF MAMMON
he still breathed. A weird thought came to him: God
might be too busy listening to Deacon Jeffries to hear
just a boy cursing him. He would try again. This time
the little rebel was so in earnest in his appeal for re
lease from the burden of life that his voice rang out true
and clear, filling the church with its challenge to the
Creator :
"It s a lie, there is no God ! I want to die !"
The low hum of voices in discussion of the lesson
was hushed, and on the silence there fell the heart-pierc
ing sobs of a child, huddled in the end of a pew while
his teacher bent over him with loving words and ca
resses. There can be but little comfort gotten from an
alien hand for a soul so sore for love, so torn with doubts,
so far adrift that it poured out its tide of woe and chal
lenged God within the house of prayer to end it all.
Heads turned this way and that; some whispered,
"Who is it?" others answered, "Sister Holcomb s Mose,"
until the desired information was well spread amongst
the worshipers.
Martha left her place in the Bible class when a neigh
bor reaching over the back of a pew had first pinched
her, then whispered, "Sister Holcomb, your Mose is a
blasphemin an fightin his teacher." Dropping her
Bible she hurried back to where he crouched in the pew.
"Here you," she began, making a dive for his coat col-
lar, "what th old scratch s th matter with you? You
.sick?"
His mother s hands upon him acted as a tonic. His
sobs were stilled. All the combativeness of the animal
in a corner, bated beyond endurance, flashed up; his
face grew rigid; his tear-dimmed eyes glinted. "You
let loose of me," he shouted, and as Martha in sheer
surprise relaxed her hold he slipped out into the aisle
and ran from the church.
Out in the great cathedral he halted, but not until he
had reached the cross roads, where he felt safe from
immediate pursuit. Here he gave himself to the thou
sand doubts and uncertainties that surrounded him to
mock his struggle for liberty, to be true to himself. For
an hour he sat in a thicket of wild plum bushes and
planned to leave his prison, and seek succor of the great
world beyond the ridge of hills stretching away into eter-
A WORSHIPER AND A REBEL 7 1
nity along the western horizon. Then thinking of God s
weakness as demonstrated when he had failed to make
good his threat to kill, the boy came to think it just pos
sible his mother, too, might be less sure of herself when
she faced this challenge to her faith, and turned resolute
ly toward home, determined to fight it out with the wom
an his mother.
The Sunday dinner, served at two o clock, had long
been cleared away, when Mary ran into the sitting room
to announce : "He s come, mother. He s come. I seen
him sneak into the barn," and out she danced to find
Peter and impart the news.
"Jed, you go out to th barn an bring that young
scamp in here "
"Mother, I wouldn t whip th boy he hain t seemed
like hisself th last few days "
"Jed Holcomb, I m th jedge of how I m to bring up
my children, an I m not a-goin t have you a interferin
either."
"But, mother, you hain t goin t whip him again to
day, be you? I tell you Mose hain t well. An besides,
he hain t had a bite of victuals to-day."
"Jed Holcomb, you don t know that boy. I tell you
his spirit has got t be broke. An I ll do it if I have t
break every bone in his body."
"Mose hain t a bad boy, mother," the father pleaded ;
"he ll do anything fer me why, he hain t never dis
obeyed me an I hain t never licked him, less it was
cause you made me."
"That s right," the hysterical priestess of divine
mercy shrieked, "that s right. Take his part against his
own mother. Keep on an see where he ll land. I said
I d punish him within an inch of his life fer a disgracin
me in church, an* I m a-goin to. You old softhead, if
you hain t got gumption enough t bring up children
what d git them fer?"
With this parting shot ringing in his ears Jed left the
house hurriedly and started for the feed lot, while the
mother, followed by both Peter and Mary, went to the
barn.
When the voice of his mother reached him, fear of
physical tortures was eating into the heart of the boy
who had buried his hot, tear-stained face in the sweet-
72 MILLS OF MAMMON
scented clover in a far corner of the mow but a few
short minutes before.
"Come out of there, you little devil"; a pause; "I
kin see you. Come down here I tell you." Contempt
curled the boy s lips as he lifted his head from its pillow
of clover. He knew she lied. No human eye could see
him in that hiding place.
"You d better come out of there. If I have t come
an git you it ll be th worse fer you."
Slowly this small, ten-year-old boy, whom the boys
of the neighborhood called "Skinny," because of his thin
legs and slender body, lifted himself from the hay. He
had returned home to fight it out with his mother, and
the call had come. If he was to save the proud spirit
that disdained a lie, and refused to yield its rights, he
must answer the challenge. The time had come to make
a last stand. If he whined and begged forgiveness here,
in the future there would be multiplied demands made
upon him to yield still more, as his brother Peter had
yielded until he had corne to prefer a lie to the truth.
Once more the angry voice came up to him, and this
time it was supplemented by the wicked snap of the whip
lash, hungry for a taste of the child s blood. There was
no escape. As he realized the import of the challenge
the blood ran as liquid fire through his little body. She
should not strike him with that whip. She should not!
She should not ! Flushed and panting, yet unafraid, he
clambered over the billowy hay to the ladder leading
down to Hell.
When his feet touched the floor of the driveway he
turned defiantly to face his mother. The mother had
worked herself into a paroxysm of rage and stood bit
ing her lips and switching a post with the rawhide buggy
whip.
"Hain t you ashamed of yourself, you young scape
grace? A hollerin out in Sunday school thet you want
ed t die." Moses dodged a vicious cut with the whip.
"You don t need t dodge, you little devil. I m goin t
half kill you. I ll learn you t disgrace me in my own
church. I ll break that spirit of yours if I kill you fer
it"
"Why don t you kill me? I d rather be dead than
" what more he would have said was lost in the hiss
A WORSHIPER AND A REBEL 73
of the rawhide as it wrapped its coils about him. Again
the lash fell, the boy s right wrist showing a great red
welt where the angry thing had bruised him. It had bit
ten another place, a rivulet of blood streamed down over
his cheek from a bite of the lash s end in his tender
flesh. With the quickness of a cat he jumped aside as
the lash fell seeking a third taste of a child s soul. Pick
ing up a hammer that lay upon an unopened barrel of
salt, he stepped back just out of reach of the whip, and
cried out:
"If you touch me with that whip again I ll kill
you."
Martha, blinded by rage at this open rebellion, start
ed forward ; the whip descended the hammer sped true
to its mark.
Peter and Mary ran screaming from the barn as the
mother fell. "He s killed mother. He s killed mother,"
was the cry that reached Jed and the hired man in the
feed lot.
CHAPTER X.
MOSES FINDS A MOTHER.
Moses Holcomb looked down at his mother without a
tremor as she sank to the floor, then raced from the barn
at the heels of the other children and, dodging behind
cribs and stacks of grain, made his way to a field of
growing corn and ran through it until he was hidden in
a like field on a neighboring farm.
Late that night as Tom Webster was preparing to
close the house for the night he happened to look out
toward the Millville road. "Land sakes, Cora," he called
to his wife, "I believe some of the neighbors is sick;
they s a boy comin in at the front gate."
Mrs. Webster hurried to the front door and stood
waiting. The boy saw her and hesitated a moment, then
advanced slowly until he stood at the foot of the steps.
"Could you could you give me just a little piece of
bread? I haven t had anything to eat to-day, an I d
like to sleep in your barn." Cora Webster had fed
tramps before, though there were but few in the coun
try then, but this appeal from a mere baby so dumfound-
ed her that she could not utter a word, and the boy
went on :
"I am tired, lady, and I don t feel like I could go
much farther" his voice, his drooping little figure were
eloquent witnesses to the bitter struggle he had endured
on the road he had traveled that day. Standing there in
the moonlight, a wanderer while yet a babe, more in need
of a loving mother s care than ever before, he touched
the great heart of a childless mother.
"Sleep in our barn, child?" she questioned, her eyes
brimming with tears, "why, what call have you to sleep
in a barn when there are beds in plenty?"
"I I thought you wouldn t want me in your house,"
he answered, brokenly, "I wasn t going to tell you any-
74
MOSES FINDS A MOTHER 75
thing about what T had done but I thought I might
sleep in the barn "
"Child, child," she cried, with outstretched hands, "a
boy like you can t have done anything very wrong
come in and tell me all about it."
"No, I can t come in you don t know I don t be
lieve there is any God. I asked him to kill me an he
didn t, because there ain t none and and I killed my
mother, but *
Cora Webster was down the steps and on her knees
with her arms around him before he had finished his con
fession.
"Oh, my boy, my boy, don t talk like that. What, oh,
what have they done to you? What have they done to
you ?" With her arms about him she picked him up and
carried him into the great kitchen, and called her hus
band in such peremptory tones that he came on a run.
"What in the world Cora " he began as he came
bounding in, then pausing at the sight of the boy
clothes torn in his wild flight, face bloody and stained
with tears and the dust of travel, hair disheveled, wild-
eyed.
"Tom, he s got a fever and is clear out of his head,
and "
"No, I ain t got no fever," the boy interrupted, "and
I won t be taken back there ; I ll die first. What I said
was true." He looked at the great red welt across his
wrist, the hot blood surging to his face. He could feel
shame for his mother, even in the face of the crime he
believed himself guilty of.
"Tom, he says he killed his mother," Cora whispered
the awful words.
"My God, Cora, you must have dreamed it." Turning
to the boy again he asked where he lived, the name of
his folks, when he left home and finally, satisfied that
Moses story was at least in part true, he said to his wife :
"I guess I had better take Mollie and ride over to the
Holcomb neighborhood; it s only twelve miles, and you
make the little chap comfortable. I reckon he s atynit
starved, as well as tuckered out."
When her husband had gone, Mrs. Webster asked
Moses, who stood looking out into the night as though
he contemplated flight, yet could not bring himself to
76 MILLS OF MAMMON
leave until imminent danger threatened, if he didn t want
to wash before he had lunch. While he removed the
grime and dried blood from face and hands, she set
out a lunch on the kitchen table and hovered over while
he ate.
When he had finished she was seated in a big rocker
by a window from which a view of the Millville road
could be had. "Come over here and tell me about your
trouble," she pleaded, as the boy shrank into a far cor
ner of the room, sobbing out his thanks for her kind
ness. Finally she prevailed upon him to go to her. As
he came to her side she put her arm about him and
would have drawn him to her lap, but he hung back. To
induce him to yield she told him of her one baby, who
had he lived, would have been about the same age, and
asked if he didn t think she would have found her boy
ready to bring all his troubles to his mother s arms, even
after he had grown to be a bigger boy than the little
wanderer whose confidence she sought.
Tom Webster, returning home after midnight, found
his wife sitting in the big rocker with the little wanderer
clasped to her bosom, and he fast locked in sleep.
"She isn t dead," he whispered, as Cora held up a
warning finger, "but from what I gather, I don t think I
would cry if she was." Having deposited a bundle on
the table he took a chair and sat by the big rocker. The
moment he had entered the room and his wife caught
sight of the bundle she smiled she was to keep the little
fellow who had won her heart by his sturdy defense of
truth, even at a greater cost than most grown-ups are
willing to pay.
But a wife would be somewhat remiss in her wifely
duty did she not reprove her husband for his radical
expressions, so Tom, big, whole-souled Tom, had hardly
felt the chair under him before his wife said: "You
mustn t say such wicked things, Tom; not even about
his mother. And if he is to stay with us you must quit
saying darn and words like that," at all of which the
big man laughed softly, and kissed the protestant.
"Holcomb told me Moses was one of the best boys
alive, though he never could get along with his mother
somehow."
MOSES FINDS A MOTHER 77
"I don t wonder, from what he told me," she hastily
added, "but he didn t say a word against his mother, only
that he was not sorry he had killed her. Think of that,
Tom. He must have suffered dreadfully."
"Yes," Tom answered. "I guess the little chap had
a rather tough time of it, and Holcomb allowed if we d
just as soon keep him for a while he d pay his keep. I
told him we had no children and would be glad to have
the boy, and pay him something besides."
Cora nodded her appreciation, and asked : "Did you
see that woman?" then bent to kiss the scar left by the
lash on the boy s cheek.
"No, I didn t ; she s some knocked out, I guess. The
hammer hit her on the forehead, Holcomb says, and
from what others told me I judge the handle seemed to
think the hammer hadn t done enough, so it up and swat
ted her one in the mouth, loosened a few teeth and cut
her lips a bit."
"Don t, Tom dear," the wife protested, and added,
"I m so glad she isn t badly hurt, and that this poor lit
tle soul found his way to us."
"Here, too, little woman. I make no doubt but that
the boy has good stuff in him, and if he has," the loyal
husband declared, "he gets his chance if he stays with
you."
"And about church, Tom?" She looked up, a frown
of perplexity on her face. "He declares there is no God.
What are we going to do with him if he don t want to
go to church??"
"Do with him, girl ?" Tom laughed softly. "Do with
him? Why we ll just turn him out with the colts on Sun
day poor little devil, he s had enough religion ham
mered into him to make a man, a full-grown man, want
to go to hell rather than meet the people who have re
ligion in heaven."
"That s awful, Tom, simply awful, and you must not
talk that way before him. He s going to look up to you,
and admire you, and see things as you see them, and I
want you to be careful."
"Of course I ll be careful, you goose. But I can say
things when he s sound asleep, can t I ?" The wife smiled
at his banter, and he went on: "Seriously, wife, the boy
is more nearly religious than some of the folks I met
78 MILLS OF MAMMON
over in the Holcomb neighborhood. They all said he
cursed God and asked for him to strike. And them neigh
bors think the boy is an awful sinner. Now, I don t
know how you look at it, but it seems to me if God is
doing business in heaven he took a darned sight more
stock in the boy s blasphemy, his calling out to be killed,
his heart busting with agony, than he did in a lot of
ready-made prayers that went up to him yesterday. Yes
siree, that boy s defiance, was the grandest prayer that
reached the throne of grace yesterday, unless," he quick
ly added, "some other poor souls were in as tight a place,
and, knowing as little, were firing their curses at the God
they had been taught to believe in."
"Tom, it s positively scandalous for you to talk that
way, when you know you are as good a Christian as
lives," the wife protested, and Tom chuckled as he
stooped to kiss her, and observed:
" Bout time to put the youngster to bed, and crawl in
ourselves, if we expect to git up in time to milk Boss be
fore she bellers her head off. Give me the boy, and you
run along and open up the bed."
CHAPTER XL
THE INVESTIGATION OF THOMPSON.
Charles Harris had not been a resident of the town
very long when his room-mate, Robert Thompson, in
sisted that he go to the First Baptist Church with him,
just once anyway, and see the prettiest girl in the town.
As Charles objected on the score that he found better
employment for his spare time working on plans for his
great machine, Bob insisted the stronger, and informed
his auditor that he (Bob) had a great mind to try his
luck at capturing the alluring maiden. Finally Charles
consented to go "just once/ The result was that both
young men attended services at the First Baptist Church
until Bob captured the coveted prize. The most remark
able feature in the transaction was the sudden cooling of
Charley s religious ardor and his close application to
work.
"Bob" Thompson had been basking in the smiles of
Mary Holcomb for at least two months, while his room
mate gave his time to labor, when he came in one Sunday
nig*ht and found Charles still at work on the rough draw
ings for the machine.
"Wake up, old man, I want to talk to you," Bob said,
slapping him on the back.
Charley pus hed back from the table. "I was just
going to quit, my eyes hurt; fire away," he replied.
Bob pulled a chair up, and after he had sat for a
little time with his eyes on the floor, he looked up and
said : "You remember that girl I wanted to show you ?"
Charley nodded. "Well I ve been to her home a number
of times. The first time her mother just <eyed me ; every
move I made, whether I could see her or not, that old
woman s eyes were fairly screwed into me and if I so
much as looked at Mary she d manage to wiggle around
where she fiould get between us."
79
8O MILLS OF MAMMON
"Well, it s interesting all right," Charley smiled
broadly, and asked, "what happened the last time?"
"Happened!" Bob fairly shouted, "It mostly hap
pened between times. You see, the old woman got out
of Mary all she knew about my boarding place, where I
work, and about my aunt who lives here. Last Tuesday
morning she started out to investigate "
"Investigate?"
"Yes, the old lady went first to the boarding house
and when I went to dinner the star boarders, the girls
and Mrs. Williams, had their faces fairly splitting. I
couldn t think what ailed them, and the next morning
when I went to work Wilson called me into the office.
What did you send that old snoop here for? that s the
way he started in on me. I didn t send anyone here, I
told him, and I guess he tumbled ; Lord, how he laughed !
Well, I wish you luck, my boy but/ he added, it costs
you your job if she turns up again in business hours and
pumps me another quarter of a day, mind that/ I was
feeling pretty cheap when I went out of the office, but
that was easy compared to going back to Mrs. Wil
liams , for you see I had tumbled to the fact that I
owed that outfit of grins to Mrs. Holcomb s having been
there, too. But that wasn t the worst. Day before yes
terday I got a note from my aunt saying she wanted
to see me. Of course I went, but, on the dead, if I
had known that the old lady had been out there trying
to pry the lid off our family history I d have left town
first."
"Why in the world did "
"Don t break in until I get through. Let me get it
all off my mind," Bob implored. Charley nodded as
sent, but the grin on his face was a challenge in itself.
"Grin, blame you, I know it s fun for you. Well, as
soon as I got out to aunt s she looked me all over in
the queerest way, then asked me if I knew anyone
named Holcomb. Guess I must have blushed or some
thing, for she said, Then that woman wasn t altogether
crazy. Has she been here? I managed to ask, and I
felt like crawling through the floor. Then aunt handed
it to me straight. Yes/ she had her nose up a mile
as she said it, she s been here and Bobby, I want to
know what sort of outlandish people you are associat-
THE INVESTIGATION OF THOMPSON 8 1
ing with? Mind, if you should ever think of marrying
into that family I would disown you/ When she shot
that at me I got hot under the collar and did a little
talking on my own account. I m afraid, now, that I
talked Mary pretty strong."
"You don t need to worry over that, Bob ; you couldn t
talk her half as strong as she deserves," Charley inter
rupted, and this time he blushed and looked down as
he caught the quick and comprehending look Bob gave
him.
But the latter only grunted as he went on with his
story: "After my little spiel, aunt took another tack,
and told me how Mrs. Holcomb had introduced herself
and assured aunt that I was a-payin particular atten
tions to her darter, as you might say/ Then she went
after our family history and stuck to it until aunt was
at her wits ends but that isn t the worst."
"Isn t the worst/ Charley repeated after him.
"No! You see, when I got away from aunt s and
had another set-to at the boarding-house I was in just
the proper shape for a fight. I had made up my mind
that Mrs. Holcomb had shot her wad, and I proposed
to take a turn with the gun myself. You know I went
to choir practice last night?" Charley nodded. "Well,
I met Mary, as a matter of course and I don t believe
to this minute that she knows anything about the old
woman s butting in. Anyway, I made a date for to
night, and took her home from practice. When we got
home from church Mary took my hat and we had just
got seated in their stuffy little box of a parlor when
the old lady came in, leading Jed by the arm. When
she d got him into the room she said: Jed, you take
Mary and go out to the kitchen I m goin t have a
word with Mr. Thompson/ You could have put me in
a mighty small package, Bob admitted, mopping his face
as he proceeded. "Mary looked scared, and Jed tried
to say something, but it got mixed up with a cough or
two, and neither of them came out right, and she just
bundled them out. By that time I was ready to run;
somehow my desire for fight had evaporated, and I
wanted to pray, or anything to get rid of the interview
I could see coming my way. She pulled a chair over in
front of me, and plumping herself down in it grabbed
82 MILLS OF MAMMON
both arms, as though, if I made a wrong move, she fully
intended to jerk them off and bat me over the head
with them. I want to ask you, young feller, what your
intentions is? was the first thing she fired at me, and
her nose wasn t two feet from mine I guess that was
the highest I looked during the whole interview and I
guess I must have given her a foolish answer, for "
"I d like to have a woman try that on me," Charley
interposed.
"Would, eh? Well, it s up to you if you want to
try it."
"What do you mean?"
"Wait until I get through."
"You don t mean to tell me you let the old lady
run you off?"
"Can t you wait? Where was I? Oh, yes she d
asked me about my intentions, and then opened up
again : Young feller, I ve bin waitin quite a spell a-try-
in t decide jist what my Christian duty t my darter
was ; an I was led t ask th parson he told me to oncet
investigate that young man s anti-cedents. Jed lowed
that word meant a considerable, an th doctor s wife,
she said it meant your family history an actions an
sich ; an she seemed real interested. "
Bob eyed the grinning mechanic on the other side of
the table. "Darn you, I d like to throw something at
you," he confessed.
"Wait a week," Charley advised; then promised not
to grin if Bob would finish the story.
"Well, here goes. Now, young feller, she says to
me, you might jist as well understand first as last that
I hain t bin readin them city newspapers all these here
months fer nothin ; an I don t propose that none of
them wolves in sheeps skins as is a-triflin with all th
young girls they chance upon shall rend an tear my one
ewe lamb.
"Right there I tried to get in a word, but she
wouldn t have it. You jist keep still till I m through,
an then if you ve got th brass t brazen it out, why,
jist crack your heels together but I warn you Jed s
in th back room, so you be careful what you say to me.
Now, wasn t that a pretty stiff proposition to go up
against?" Bob asked.
THE INVESTIGATION OF THOMPSON 83
Charley ignored the question and asked for the rest
of the story.
"I told her I was perfectly harmless, and she lit into
me again: 1 follered the advice of th doctor s wife
an my own conscience, an I can say they hain t any
thing I hev hearn about you as makes me hanker t have
you fer a son-in-law. You smoke an you hev flirted
with all sorts of girls an your father s family was all
Piscopalians, an your mother s folks didn t have no re
ligion at all, an as far as your own goes, young feller,
your own boss told me you worked on Sundays, an
he admitted t me that you swore like a pirate ; an your
aunt says you will be th death of her with your wild
ways, an besides, she told me you had inherited fits
from some of the family, an was like to come down
with them at any time; an your boarding missus, arter
I d told her of my tryin to protect my Mary, she up
an told me you wasn t no more of a Christian then Bob
Ingersall, an she allowed you never went t th Baptis
church till Mary come t town, an she told me t be
ware. She did halt there to take a fresh breath," Bob
observed with a sigh, then continued: "In the next
round she came in strong on her religion, and knocked
me plumb out of the box. I want you t know that I m
a Baptis as believes ev ry word in th Bible, an I
had all th fightin fer souls I want when I undertook
t tear Jed Holcomb as a brand from th burnin . Young
feller, Jed was as stiff-necked an uncircumcised a sin
ner as ever I seen fore I set eyes on you, when I took
him in hand an he s saved to-day. Now, what I want
to know is, are you goin t pester Mary any more ? "
Bob paused.
"And you sneaked," Charley sneered as he reached
up and felt along the shelf above his head for a pipe.
"Sneaked ? Why, no, not immediately I simply told
her she was wasting her breath that I was innocent of
practically everything my friends had charged me with,
but as she so strongly objected, I would not see Mary
again why, I d as soon be in the infernal regions, with
my back broke, as to marry a woman from that school."
"Bobby, you didn t love the girl no, it wasn t love,"
then after a pause: "I believe you said it was up to
me?"
84 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Yes, I said it; and I ll bet you the price of a wed
ding suit that you don t last as long as a politician in
heaven."
"That s a go," Charley answered with gusto; "put
it at fifty dollars, and I ll enter the lists."
"All right, it s up to you, and I will give you just
three months from to-night to make good," Bob de
clared.
"That s about October ist," Charley commented, as
he shook hands across the table with his room-mate and
one-time rival, though the rival was all unconscious of
having played the part.
CHAPTER XII.
MOTHER HOLCOMB IS CIRCUMVENTED.
October 1st came as must come all dates between
this and the final date of time, and found Charley Har
ris bending over the plans for the coming automatic
moulder, which were spread out on the table of his and
Bob s room, when the latter entered, and without a word
laid a check for fifty dollars on the table in front of the
mechanic. As Charley looked up after examining the
bit of paper thrust between him and his work, Bob
said:
"Not a word, old man you won it fairly, and if
you didn t, I would have held you to your end of the
wager."
"But I don t want the money, Bob; it would have
served me right if I had lost out and do you know I
sometimes feel a bit mean when I think of the way I
took to win it and the girl. Still, I love Mary, and
she was worth winning, even as I won her."
"That s the point, Charley. Tell me how you cir
cumvented the old lady; but first put that check in your
pocket."
"Bobby," said Charley, and he looked his grimmest,
"for what I ve done may the Lord forgive me. I ve lied ;
I ve cozened my mother-in-law-to-be; I ve swallowed
the Baptist church whole ; I ve mothered her ; I ve accept
ed her Bible and whole philosophy of life at her
figure, and am to pay her out in a life service to a God
who wouldn t be allowed to do more than one year s
business in a barnyard, for any careful breeder of im
proved stock. I ve raked Father Jed over the coals for
his religious shortcomings, and the one spot of saving
grace for me, so far as the old folks are concerned, lies
in the fact, or rather conviction I hold, that the old man
is on."
"On to what?" Bob demanded.
85
86 MILLS OF MAMMON
"On to me with both feet. This is how I got next:
About a month ago he ventured an opinion on a matter
of fai-th; mother-in-law-to-be snapped him up in a min
ute, and I piled in and helped her pulverize him. When
I had finished, the old lady was chuckling, and I turned
to Jed to see how he was taking his medicine skin me,
if he didn t wink at me and grin. Of course I wasn t
absolutely certain, but after he had shaken hands twice
With me as I came away, I began to do some tall think
ing about the state of Father Holcomb s immortal soul."
Bob was anxious to have the meat of the story, but
Charley insisted at this point upon putting his pipe in
commission before he proceeded. "Last week I had an
other chance to help the old lady out, and it seemed to
me Jed had perked up quite a bit in combativeness, just
to give me a chance. While the battle raged, I got two
of the broadest winks ever, and when I started away
the old man followed me to the gate and was so all-fired
good to me that I up and asked him for Mary. Bob,
he led me right back to the house; caught the old lady
with her shoes off and her hair down and had the thing
fixed right there then Mary and I got our first hour
alone in almost three months well, I guess I earned it
all right."
"I don t see the connection between Mr. Holcomb s
friendliness and your antagonism," Bob insisted, with
a puzzled look.
"Took me two weeks to figure it out," Charley laugh
ed. "You see, it is this way you know Mrs. Hoi-
comb," Bob screwed his face into a grimace. "You re
member she gave herself credit with having snatched Jed
as a brand from the burning?"
"Well, he s just a bit nearer that lake of brim
stone than he was before she saved him unless the
Lord will allow him to enter a plea of self-defense, and
nolle pros, the indictment against him. He s a hypo
crite and he knows I m another."
"And misery toves company, eh, Charley??" was the
sum of Bob s comment.
******
Within a month after the wedding, Charles Harris
might have been found hard at work in Father Hoi-
comb s barn where he had fitted up a shop and was get-
MOTHER HOLCOMB IS CIRCUMVENTED 87
ting his machine under way. Jed was his constant com
panion, and by much urging had induced Charley to use
some of his funds for material and tools with which to
push the work in hand.
After all the years of dreaming, planning and model
ing, the inventor had at last come to the promised land.
No longer were such trivial things as a mother-in-law s
objection to the neglect of Wednesday evening prayer
meetings, or a wife s plea that she hardly ever saw him,
to interfere with the prosecution of his work. Feverishly
he labored begrudging even the time he took at table
as so much time lost.
When the young folks were married and Charley had
moved his possessions to the Holcomb home, the father
seemed to take new hold upon life, and a transforma
tion was wrought that boded but ill for Martha s rule.
Now it was Jed who defended Charley when either of
the women complained of his underworship and over
work. In turn Charley grew perceptibly weaker in de
fense of the great truths promulgated by his mother-in-
law. But she knew Jed so well, or at least thought she
did, that she straightway laid all the younger man s sins
at her husband s door. He denied strenuously that he
was in any way culpable, and as firmly insisted that Char
ley s being so ambitious to make a fortune out of his
machine was all that ailed him.
Within six months after his marriage, thanks to the
assistance of the head of the house, the automatic moul
der was built and ready for a test.
As an especial mark of honor, Bob Thompson was
invited to witness the testing of the first machine for
casting iron automatically.
Mary and her mother visited the shop early in the
morning and found the mechanic filling the small furnace
for a test heat. When they entered he dropped the
"pig" he was about to put into the furnace and put his
arm about his wife s waist. "Mary, it s one of the hap
piest days of my life," he told her. "When I went into
the foundry as a boy I thought of that machine you see
standing there, and not a day has come since that I
have not divided my thoughts between the machine and
the other things I had to think of to live."
90 MILLS OF MAMMON
auditors "It works perfectly, so I guess I will put on
the belt and run it empty for a few minutes before giv
ing it the iron then you will see it do the work of fifty
men as long as the iron lasts."
"If it does that why not put it to work in the foun
dry? you say it is not to go out of this shop." Bob
could not catch the mechanic s viewpoint.
"But this isn t the machine I now have in mind,"
the inventor protested. As the belt crawled slowly into
place on the tight pulley and the machine began its
labor, he went on, "This machine simply demonstrates
the reasonableness of my hope to make it more nearly
automatic, more rapid, more compact, and consequently
less expensive to -operate now watch. Remember, I
have never tested the assembled machine, yet I would
stake my life on its doing the work, for each part has
been tested separately. That s the hand process of man
ufacture, here all the hand tools are coordinated and
the machine takes the place of skilled workers .and oper
ates all these tools at once, where they could only be
used one at a time. Now watch closely as I lift this
gate, iron as thin as water, and as hot as a place we have
heard mentioned, father " he looked up at Jed, and
both smiled "pours out into this measuring device and
tips into the flask. Watch the next flask come up for
its share of the molten iron. Now, come over on this
side and watch the filled flask ; see ? As it comes to this
side it begins to open there you have the finished prod
uct. Don t touch it," he called out as Bob scooped and
was about to take hold of the casting just ejected from
the machine. "It s all but red hot," Charley warned
him, and then said : "Keep your eye on that empty flask ;
see, it next stops over a blast of cold air, while the
flask on the other side is taking its icharge. The cold
blast reduces the heat of the mould so it will the more
readily absorb the heat from the next charge of metal."
While the machine labored on, kicking out casting
after casting, the three men stood about it in silence.
Charley finally took up a bucket of water and cooled off
the first castings from the "Harris Automatic Moulding
Machine." Taking up the first one that came from the
machine he said : "This is the only thing I shall save
MOTHER HOLCOMB IS CIRCUMVENTED QI
from all the visible results of my years of labor the
first perfect casting from an automatic machine."
He stood erect, the pride of power, of mastery,
illumining his face. "To-day," he looked from one to
the other, "I shall break this machine up, and to-morrow,
if you oare to look at it, it will be found in the alley
yonder, on exhibition in the form of junk a mass of
twisted and broken metal nothing more."
"Charley," Jed protested, "it s cost you more than a
thousand dollars, sides your time, and as old junk it
won t bring ten dollars what sort of talk "
"That s all true, father, but I m talking sense just
the same. This machine will be more valuable to me as
junk than, it is in its present form. To build it on lines
I now have laid out it must be rebuilt from the ground
up. So it has to go, and so have I."
"Not leave us, Charley !" the old man protested.
"Yes," the mechanic with a vision before him, re
plied kindly,. "I ve got to have better facilities for work
and better materials to work with. In fact, I ve got to
go to a big city where all my wants may be supplied
at first hand and, anyway, my machine belongs to the
big cities; it would be worse than useless in Whislow s
foundry."
Bob s eyes were filled with wonder of the thing
here was a mechanic who had given years of labor to
the accomplishment of a single task, and in his hour of
triumph over all his fears he quietly condemned the
visible result of those hungry years to destruction, and
did it with a smile it was all outside Bob Thompson s
comprehension. He gave one more look at the machine
as it stood silent after its work was finished, then at the
inventor, and as he turned at the door, said : "Charley,
I don t need to wish you luck. Any one who can build
such a machine as that can have nothing but luck."
CHAPTER XIII.
A MECHANIC S VISION.
When Jed Holcomb left the shop the day Charley
tested his machine he went sadly to the house; no clear
idea of what Charley s determination to move to a
larger city meant to him had been reasoned out as yet.
He only knew that the young folks were dearer to him
than life. As for argument for or against such a move,
he had none. He had not been long in the house when
Martha noticed his gloomy look.
"Land sakes, Jed!" she exclaimed, "one ud think
Charley s contraption had blowed up an* scattered things
t th four winds, t look at you. What s the matter?
Your old liver trouble comin back? You jist wait right
where you be. I ll git th burdock Mary wanted t
leave it on th farm fer that Jake Simpson s shif less
wife t throw away. Why, Jed, what s the matter with
you? I swan if there hain t tears in your eyes."
Jed drew a sleeve furtively across his eyes and sat
down with a sigh.
"What n th world" Martha began.
Tain t nothin th matter of my liver, mother," he
answered lamely. "I just found out the children is goin
to pack up an leave us "
"W-h-a-t?"
"Yes, mother, Charley is a-plannin to go to some
big city, Chicago most likely, to make a grander ma
chine tho what he can want with a better machine
than the one he s smashin to bits out in th shop is more
than I know."
"You don t tell me that boy is a-bustin that ma
chine to flinders? Jed, hez he gone crazy? That ma
chine hez cost him most five hundred dollars. I m goin
t see what he s a-doin ."
"Wait, mother, don t you go," Jed pleaded.
92
93
"Don t go your grandmother/ was all he heard as
Martha started for the shop.
The mechanic was taking measurements with calliper
and rule, comparing his findings with the dimensions
given on the drawings then under way for the new ma
chine, when Martha entered. There was a catch in her
hard old voice as she began: "Charley, Jed says as
you are thinkin of leavin us?"
Charley looked keenly into her face, and his answer
was as gentle as though it had been offered at her knee.
"Mother, I ve got to go go somewhere where my ma
chine can have a chance. Besides, I feel that I must
get acquainted with men of wider experience in my line
before I build my new machine."
"Then Jed was right. You intend to do away with
that one?"
"Yes, mother, my work here is finished, and so is
the work of this machine. You see it was only built for
a day, if it was a success, and it was. Now its work is
finished, and out of its clumsy bulk I am going to build
the machine I have had in mind for years and years.
It s like this, mother: while I had plenty of faith to
keep me digging away at it, and a willingness to put
all the money I could spare into it, still, there was al
ways a doubt ready to take hold of me as to the thing
really being a success. To-day it has proven even more
of a success than I had ever hoped the first machine
would. To-morrow I can go ahead on the perfected
machine without a single fear and that means better
work. No more experiments. Just building for perfec
tion. Don t you see?" he asked, noticing her troubled
look.
"No, I don t see. An what s more, there s a lot of
things I won t see Mary s goin away, for one thing,"
and she left him.
That evening, after a supper eaten in silence, the
family gathered in the sitting room. Charley s machine
lay a wreck in the shop Martha had satisfied herself on
that point.
"Well," Jed observed after a prolonged silence, punc
tuated by the click of Martha s knitting needles, "seems
as tho there might be a storm to-night, th way things
is brewin ."
94 MILLS OF MAMMON
"You alludin t me, Jed Holcomb?" the wife de
manded, dropping her knitting into her lap. "You al
ludin t me ?"
"I was a-alludin t* th clouds, mother," he pro
tested.
"Well, you d better allude t somethin closer home
with your crazy son-in-law a-hammerin a thousand dol
lars worth of property into flinders, an a-threatenin t
take Mary, my Mary, into one of them big towns where
there hain t nothin but dirt, an sin, an* robbin an* mur
der. Jed Holcomb," she shook an accusing finger at
her husband, "I swan f man ef I don t half believe
you ve bin a-conspirin with him."
"Mother, I hain t no such thing," Jed protested
stoutly.
"You shet right up, Jed Holcomb! They hain t no
livin man can come it over me! Hain t you two bin
as close as two born twins ever since Charley come
a-courtin my Mary? An you ve bin thicker n molasses
in January ever since they was married."
"Now, mother, don t you git on no tantrum," Jed
implored, while the young folks sat dumb before the ris
ing tide of Martha s wrath.
"Tantrum, tantrum, is it? Well, I d jist like t know
who wouldn t tantrum? Didn t he promise me he
wouldn t take Mary away; an didn t he promise faith
ful t jine th church? An t hear him talk you wouldn t
a-thought butter d melt in his mouth th hypocrite!
Don t you look at me that way, Jed Holcomb."
"I hain t a-goin to, mother," he whimpered.
"An you better not! Hain t you bin a-aidin an
abettin him in a-breakin th Sabbath? You don t dast
t say you hain t. An now arter spendin all his money
an a-livin here board free for months, an Mary in th
condition she is, he up an busts that devil s contraption
of his to bits an says he s goin t take my Mary away
from me; an* you jist set there a-waggin your head
like a old fool. Jed Holcomb, hain t you got no man
in you? Hain t you goin t say nothin ag in this at
all?" Martha s eyes were as hard as diamonds, and
tho her chin trembled, her iron soul held her lips in a
firm line.
"Mother, I can t seem t see no reason in standin*
A MECHANIC S VISION 95
in Charley s way an as fer Mary why, when I mar
ried you, I took you from your mother, didn t I?"
"When you married me ! You didn t marry me, Jed
Holcomb. I done th marryin an I could stand alone,
an I ve done it all my life an my Mary isn t me.
She don t know no more how t stand up fer herself than
a newborn baby an if she did, she hain t a-goin to,
so there !"
"But, mother," Mary interposed, "if Charley s work
must be finished somewhere else "
"Mary Holcomb Harris, you shet right up I hain t
a-goin t quarrel with you, you in the condition you re
in but I will say, that you bein as soft as putty, that
man," pointing a shaking ringer at Charley, "could wrap
you around his finger; an after he s lied to me like he
has, it s my bounden duty t protect your everlastin
soul."
"Mother, mother, mother, what s the use of all this,"
Charley exclaimed, "what s the use of all this? I am
willing to admit that I practiced a little harmless decep
tion in order to win your consent to my marrying
Mary."
"Well, if I ever," Martha began, but he went on:
"Listen, mother, I loved Mary from the very first
time I saw her, and was eating my heart out all the
time Bob was going with her. When he came to me
and told me how you had investigated him, I deter
mined to win Mary if I could, and in any way I could.
I loved her and I wanted her." Leaning over his wife s
chair, he put his arms about her and, lifting her face to
his, kissed her. Looking up with a smile into the angry
face of the mother, he said : "I love her better to-night
than ever before, and you must understand me. I do
not want to take her away from you until after our baby
comes and I do want you to forgive me I I believe
I appreciate how you feel
"You" Martha s voice was husky with suppressed
anger "you know how I feel, Charles Harris. Then
answer me this : didn t you come into my house like a
thief in th night, a professin religion an* a dissem-
blin ?"
"Yes, mother ; but I loved Mary."
96 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Don t you call me mother no more," Martha cried
as she started from her chair and shook an accusing
finger in his face.
"There, there, mother, do be
"Jed Holcomb," she turned upon him squarely, "you
listen t me. This man admits he s lied, an stole, an
has no religion, an* "
"But I have a religion," Charley protested, "a re
ligion that sees God in the machine I just destroyed;
will see him bigger and better in the one I am to build.
Why, I see him in Mary ; in the trees and flowers ; in the
whole world, just as my mother does, and besides "
"An idolator t boot!" the mother exclaimed.
"Charles Harris, didn t you go down on your knees in
my church an pertend t pray t my God? Didn t you
ask him, an me a-list nin , t give you a new heart? An
swer me that."
"Mother, I protest that it seemed but a form to me.
I was not conscious of sinning against God, tho I was
conscious of sinning against you. Let me explain : God
to me is infinite, and beyond the power of your church,
or any other church, for that matter, to fix the man
ner of my approach to him, or set the penalty for my
shortcomings. My sins of omission and commission
against your church may be counted as sins against
you who hold to its narrow way. I admit that I de
ceived you but I could never have deceived my God,
He knew my heart; he knew my struggle; so it comes
to this, that I must answer to you for my sinning; I
am answering now; I ask you to forgive me. For
Mary s sake and the baby, mother, forgive "
His plea was not to be finished. The iron-souled
warrior of the cross lifted her hands on high and
prayed: "Lord of mercy an of wrath, bear me up in
what I m about t do, an t suffer fer thy name s sake.
Lord, thou hast put many a burden on me in times past.
Whilst I hev halted an bin a-weary in th battle, still,
O Lord, thou hast strengthened me. Thou hast prom
ised, O Lord, that th vials of divine wrath shall be
emptied on th heads of idolaters an heathens, an scof
fers t th last day. An Lord, I beseech thee that thou
use me, thy unworthy servant, as a chast nin rod even
A MECHANIC S VISION 97
aginst my own flesh an blood. An thine be th glory,
amen."
Three auditors had sat in huddled silence, awed by
the sincerity, the earnestness, the fervor of Martha s
prayer. When she had finished, she stood silent for a
moment, then said to Charley: "I have jist one word
t say t you an" I m done. Mary stays here till th
baby s born, then she can make up her mind whether
she ll go to th home of a idolater or stay under th
shadow of th cross of Christ. As fer you I won t
never speak to you agin "
"Oh, mother, don t say that !" Mary cried out, clasp
ing her mother in her arms, to be pushed away as Mar
tha continued, in her religious ecstasy unmindful of the
distress of her daughter. "You can stay here until
Mary is through her trouble, or you can go, but from to
night I will never speak t* you agin. Jesus Christ an*
my darter is all there is in this world fer me." She
turned to leave the room, when Jed appealed to her :
"Mother, you are all worked up over nothin won t
you say a word of good night t me, t us ?" But with
out a look or word she passed out of the room.
"I shall hate her ! Hate her ! if she treats you that
way," Mary declared when they had gone to their room.
"No, no, sweetheart, you must not, you must not.
She may not forgive me, but we must remember some
one is coming to live with us in a little while, and we
must not hate. We must love our mother; we can do
this more when we understand that she suffers as deep
ly as either of us. She believes I have grossly wronged
both her and God, and having that belief, she suffers
even more than I do, because I can leave God out of
the question between your mother and myself. Yes,
girlie, we must love your mother. Our baby shall not
come to us bearing the weight of our transgressions.
Whatever happens, keep sweet, little wife, keep faith.
Your mother is not the Creator. Her anger, even her
curses, could not harm us more than we permit by giv
ing way to resentment. From to-night she will have
nothing to do with me," he admitted soberly, "but re
member, you are not to worry; I will be the same to
her as I have been. To-morrow morning bright and
early I will go to the city. If I can find what I want in
98 MILLS OF MAMMON
St. Louis we will go there, if not we will go to Chi
cago. I did not intend to go for a couple of weeks, but
maybe it will be best to go away and give mother a
chance to think the whole matter over before she sees
too much of me. There, there, girlie, don t cry ; the
world is not so big that we can get lost in it any more,
and if we keep faith and love with us always it will
seem but a small place, wherever we live. *
CHAPTER XIV.
AN UNFINISHED CHAPTER.
"Land sakes, Mrs. Norton, an Elder Smiley, too.
Well, I declare, I don t see how you can stand t be
inside sich a mornin as this, when it s jist fine out
here on th portico." The speaker was none other than
our friend Martha Holcomb, who had but that moment
arrived on the porch that adorned her nearest neigh
bor s home on its West street side. In the pleasant
south room, the minister had but rid himself of his hat
and taken a chair at the window when Martha chal
lenged attention from the porch. That the two in the
south room avoided the porch for the very reason that
they wished, if possible, to escape a meeting with their
co-worker in the vineyard, seems assured.
"When Martha ceased speaking, the minister looked
helplessly at his hostess, who shook her head ever so
little and called out to her neighbor: "Won t you come
in?"
"I certainly shall, less you two conies out. Land
sakes," she exclaimed, seating herself in one of the wick
er porch chairs, "I can t fer th life of me see what
possesses some folks t stick t th insides of their houses
till they gets, t lookin fer all th world like bleached
celery."
The minister sighed and went out on the porch, where
he gave Sister Holcomb formal greeting and sat him
down.
The Rev. Theodore Smiley was a man of some parts
and considerable experience. He had entered the min
istry some six years earlier than we make his acquaint
ance; entered it with a profound faith in the saving
grace of conversion. To him, during his first year s min
istry, the sinner bowed at the altar asking pardon for
past sins, protesting present repentance and promising
99
IOO MILLS OF MAMMON
future obedience to the mandates of Christ, represented
the sum total of all the world might ask of the sin
ner. This was to him the supreme test of life a thing
sacred, and offered but once in a lifetime had he not
felt "the power" when he went down on his knees and
asked that he be allowed to consecrate his life to the
service of the Master?
Years spent in ministering to those who had made
a like confession, brought to this man a conviction that
a wide difference of opinion existed in the minds of the
individual members of his church as to what constituted
repentance, conversion and sanctification. The joy of
service, which in the first months of his ministry had
lighted up his face from inward devotional fires, slowly
died down when the weight of a neighborhood s past mis
deeds, old grudges and fault-findings were dumped at
his door and he was asked to assume responsibility for
the future conduct of those suspected of past sinnings.
During that first year he firmly believed in sanctifica
tion, and preached it. But the family quarrels into which
he was dragged by the several factions in the church
each insisting the other was without grace had been
enough to convince him, finally, that, regardless of their
prayer-meeting claims, a majority of his flock had fallen
far short of the full privilege of religion.
His sermons the second year dealt more with the in
dividual requirements for a sound religious experience,
and less with sanctification. It happened that his word-
pictures, delineating Christian and non-Christian char
acteristics in the individual, were said, by a number of
his flock, and divers of the unregenerated world, to
"hit at" some of the pillars of his church. Those who
were said to be "hit at" gave weight to the gossip by
evincing unrest while under the voice of the pastor. It
is needless to say the "pillars" openly questioned the min
ister s right to subject the saved to criticism, while the
unsaved world numbered its millions of souls on the way
to hell. The pastor was so wrapped up in his work
that the seeds of internal strife had gone far toward
germination before he discovered where they had taken
root. Sadly enough he gave up the individual and
preached all the way from "The First Sin" to "The
Saving Blood of Jesus," and found to his surprise, a
AN UNFINISHED CHAPTER IOI
vastly different attitude in the "pillars," both toward him
personally, and toward the contribution baskets.
With the coming of his third year he began to deal
with social problems. His sermons bristled with facts
and figures in support of the text. Remembering the
failure of sanctifioation and his later appeal to the in
dividual, he poured into his new sermons all the accu
mulated knowledge of his past experience, and encoun
tered a stronger opposing force than ever before. When
accused of taking politics into his pulpit, of dragging
business into his sermons, he became indignant and pro
tested that if politics and business did not square with
religion it was his plain duty to teach his flock to avoid
that sort of politics and business. The attitude of the
minister resulted in the appointment of a committee
from the board of trustees to wait upon the pastor in
the interests of the church government, and insist upon
"the simple gospel of Christ" (?) being preached from
their pulpit.
The pastor requested this committee to put its objec
tions in writing, also outline the course it wished him
to follow in the future. With evident reluctance the
committee agreed to meet the minister s wishes. A bank
er, a business man, and a retired farmer composed the
committee. The minister read the indictment carefully,
studied the recommendations of the committee to the
last detail, then announced that he would take their
offering as his text for the next Sunday evening s ser
mon, after which the membership should decide as to
the future.
That sermon will never be forgotten by some who
heard it. Into it the young minister poured a wealth of
pathetic pleading for a free pulpit. He defended his
faith in sanctification as the only true base upon which
to build the superstructure of religious life. He de
manded that he be permitted to denounce individual short
comings, social sins, political -and business dishonor
without let or hindrance. He demanded this as his
right, and in the name of his Master protested against
the limitations sought to be put upon the free gospel, as
he taught it.
As might have been expected the church divided.
The thing that most surprised the minister was the
102 MILLS OF MAMMON
numerical insignificance of the party which stood by him
in this crisis in his ministry. When he had asked God s
blessing to rest upon his congregation after the ser
mon, and stood waiting beside the pulpit, confident that
even the committee had not been able to withstand the
sublime truth, the eloquence, the logic of his appeal for
a free pulpit, his heart saddened as he noticed the draw
ing together of "the pillars of the church," first in twos
and threes, then in a larger body, the center of which
was the committee. As his eyes traveled over the heads
of a congregation which seemed to have forgotten him
in its hurry to discuss the sermon, he saw coming down
a side aisle a dozen of the poorer members of the church.
They had hesitated until the "pillars * had been given
time to have a first word and handclasp with the min
ister, but seeing the more prosperous members intent
upon affairs other than handclasps, the bolder of the
rear pew holders proposed that those about him who
believed as the minister did should show their confi
dence in him by going forward and publicly expressing
their approval. Following them came a straggling dele
gation of the rag-tag element laborers, workers wives, v
and a few strangers who had attended because they had
understood there was to be trouble.
The minister watched them as they approached, and
his heart filled were the many doubts that had assail
ed him as his church closed one after another the great
gates of truth against him to be affirmed? Had the
world come again so close to the days of Calvary that
only the poor would hear Christ s message gladly?
There could be no mistaking the warmth of approval
voiced by those who came to congratulate him upon his
splendid defense of the gospel of righteousness. But
he saw a sneer on the lips of the banker as he, too, noted
the character of those who grasped the minister s hand.
Reluctantly, a few of the more indifferent of the con
gregation left the church. A handful of those who did
not dare to be among the first to go to the minister, finally
went up to offer advice, criticism and caution, but the
"pillars" stood firm.
After a whispered conference between members of
the board, the banker passed the minister without a word
A handful * * * finally went up to offer advice, criticism and caution,
but the PILLARS stood firm." Page 102.
AN UNFINISHED CHAPTER IC>3
and from the pulpit called for order. The pastor and
all within the church sat down.
"Brothers and sisters," the banker began, "some time
ago the trustees by vote selected a committee to meet
with our pastor and lay certain matters before him.
He asked that we present these matters in writing, and
also map out the course we desired him to pursue in
the discharge of his duties as pastor of this church. I
do not like to be personal, least of all in church mat
ters (Deacon Cannon voiced a loud amen ), but I must
say I believe the pastor has shamefully abused his privi
lege in the pulpit of this church and I voice the senti
ments of the trustees," he hastened to add. "He has
abused the privileges of this pulpit in refusing to make
answer to our committee after it had complied with his
request; in taking our charges and recommendations as
a text for what he has been pleased to call a sermon;
in openly attacking the committee; in attempting to
make it appear that the board of trustees has been ani
mated by other than the highest Christian motives in
its effort to keep this pulpit free from sensationalism,
and unwarranted attacks upon some of our most re
spected citizens. Feeling that we are justified in making
these charges, and that the cause of true Christianity
demands that the officers immediately take steps to pre
vent strife and division in the church, the trustees have
asked that I announce a meeting of the membership for
next Tuesday evening, at which meeting the trustees
will present certain recommendations relative to the mat
ter I have been discussing " The banker hesitat
ing, at a loss how to close, turned, his eyes lit upon Dea
con Cannon, a hard-fisted old money grubber who had
been at war with the minister from the first because he
failed to get enough hell-fire for sinners into his min
istry.
"Will Deacon Cannon lead us in prayer?" the banker
asked, and slid to his knees behind the pulpit.
Deacon Cannon sat blinking his little eyes toward
the pulpit long after the members had assumed the pre
scribed attitude of prayer. So lost was this good man
in contemplation of a final victory over the minister that
a second call from the pulpit was necessary to put him
in touch with the thing required of him.
IO4 MILLS OF MAMMON
Deacon Cannon s enemies contended that he poured
all his religion out in prayers on a Sunday and filled up
the hollow with mortgages and shaved notes on week
days. However that may be, the prayer he sent up
that night broke all records he had established before.
"Good Lord," he prayed, "Lord of all, Great Father
in Heaven, give us this day our daily bread, and for
give this young man. O Lord, he has come near to
a-calling me a whitened seplicker, but I forgive him.
And O Lord, I implore thee to do the same. O Lord,
I feel that I am a weak sinner wandering in a vale of
tears, and thou knowest, O Lord, how often my path
way is beset by temptations. O Lord, thou knowest
that if man had not bin born to sin, Christ thy son
would not have suffered and died, and we would J uv
all bin lost in the lake of fire. O Lord, we thank thee
that the way is hard, and invite thy divine compassion
to fall upon the head of this erring young minister, like
manner out of the skies. May his heart be touched
with divine grace. May he see the errer of his ways,
and may we, O Lord, Brother Baxter, Brother Mann
and your humble servant, be endowed with power from
on high, as we try to lead him to see the errer of his
ways. And if he won t see it, O Lord, may we be armed
with the strength of angels, and be en en enabled, O
Lord, to scourge him forth from thy holy temple. May
we be filled with thy spirit, O Lord! And do, Dear
Jesus, come down in power and lead aright them who
has given comfort to this young man to-night. May
they be brought to see how he has gone against the
authority of the officers of this, thy church. O Lord
Jesus, give them as aid and abet him a newness of
heart that shall bring them to see the errer of their
ways. An now, Lord, bless us as we go to our several
homes. We ask it all for Jesus sake, amen."
"Amen, and again amen." It was the minister s
voice, heard to the farthest corners of the church, and
Deacon Cannon blinked again.
At the Tuesday meeting it was proven that the Lord
was with the trustees. The minister refusing to yield,
the officers of the church declared the pulpit vacant. On
vote of the church, Deacons Cannon and Baxter were
selected as a safe committee to go into distant places
AN UNFINISHED CHAPTER IO5
in search of a "safe" minister. News of Rev. Mr.
Smiley s sermons on "Our Social Sins," had reached a
certain church in a certain city, at that time under
going periodic regeneration. An opportune call came
for him to assist in a great union meeting of the
churches, that for the hundredth time had determined
finally to drive the devil and all his works from the
community. He so pleased his audiences with his at
tacks on Gambling, Prostitution, and the Saloon that he
was called to fill the pulpit of the First Baptist Church.
When he had accepted and for the first time stood be
hind the pulpit in a magnificent church as its regular
pastor, he wondered if after all Deacons Cannon and
Mann and Baxter were not agents in the hands of God
to help him on his way by giving him the spur of their
opposition. As he looked out over a congregation that
filled the church, as a compliment to the "new" minister,
he felt that there was still hope that he might preach
the full message he believed Christ had delivered to the
world.
Before accepting the call to this church he had felt
that there was a work well worth while before him.
The city, tiring of the rottenness of its political ma
chinery, in an all-too-evident partnership with vice and
crime, had decided to clean house. On this wave of pro
posed civic righteousness he had entered upon his min
istry, and gave valuable assistance to the politicians
who had fallen out with the machine and were now
struggling for a clean city under a business administra
tion. His pulpit, from that first morning when we left
him looking out over a splendid audience, rang with
condemnation of all social sins. The reformed politi
cians, out of office and hungry to get in, exploited every
attack against crime, graft, vice and the incompetency
of public officials, whether it came from the new preach
er s pulpit or some other voicing protest against wrong
doing, as a direct charge against the then office-holders.
A moral spasm epidemic in the city, coupled with adroit
campaigning, won a majority of the votes and gave the
city a clean administration, pledged to put all gamblers,
porchclimbers, holdup men and prostitutes out of busi
ness in short order. All this happened within three
months after the new minister began his labors. For
IO6 MILLS OF MAMMON
three more long, strenuously-used months he kept at the
heels of the newly-elected officials, demanding that they
redeem their pledges, and all the while kept hammering
social sins from his pulpit. Within another three
months he was given to understand that the men who
had been elected to carry out the will of God in a city s
government were simply a new line-up of old machine
hands, and were in no immediate hurry to crush any
one of three very profitable vice trusts. In fact, after
the excitement had died down, and trie new machine
had gotten well under way in the city hall, several of
his substantial members had cautioned him against car
rying his crusade to extremes. So long as he merely
tickled the ears of his congregation with a general con
demnation of vice, as he had done prior to the election,
all went well; but since that time he had been asking
more than a liberal contribution to the fund for the up
lift of fallen women, general charities, etc., etc. When
he had discovered that neither the city government nor
the individual Christians who had been so much in evi
dence before election proposed to do anything person
ally to blot out the crimes complained of, he, with two
young men who believed as he did, that to destroy crime
one must go to its source, instead of taking the more
popular way of treating the symptoms while trying to
"resolve" the criminal into the mood to destroy the thing
that fed him, disguised themselves, sought the under
world, and in one short month uncovered so much filth,
reaching from the city hall to the lowest dens of vice,
that they were simply staggered at the complexity of
the system and the boldness of its operators.
In his study the new minister went carefully over the
ground with the young men who had been with him in
his wanderings. He told them of his past experiences
when attempting to bring individual sins home to church
members. He pointed out the many difficulties that lay
before them should they decide to use the evidence
they had gathered in an open fight on the foundations
of vice. They were young, had just came out of their
first political struggle, were joying in the thought that
they had busted a machine, and were hungry for more
of the battle. So the minister took courage from their
enthusiasm, when they insisted that he would carry the
AN UNFINISHED CHAPTER IO7
church by storm and compel others to take up the fight.
They had discovered that three of the members of
their church owned property in the "red-light district"
and received more rent from this property than prop
erty of a like value would bring them in the respect
able parts of the city. The minister took these facts
direct to the members involved and told them plainly
that he was preparing to enter upon a campaign against
those who upheld the vice of their city and advised
them to get rid of their tenants. One good brother lied
to him. A second dodged the issue the first time it
was presented, made another date with the crusader and
failed to keep it. The third man solemnly affirmed that
he had never suspected the nature of his tenants all
that was in the hands of his agents, he insisted; then
hesitated a long time when the minister asked him for
the name of his agent. For a week the pastor and his
young lieutenants worked like beavers to get at the bot
tom of the cases that affected the several church mem
bers. The agent of the last brother interviewed laughed
in the preacher s face when the latter chided him for
accepting such lease-holders to the everlasting shame of
a Christian landlord.
"Did Mr. Hooker tell you he didn t know what sort
of cattle he rented that property to?" the agent de
manded.
"Certainly what else could he say?" the preacher
asked in a puzzled voice.
"He could have told the truth, if he hasn t forgotten
how/ the other retorted.
"My dear sir, you don t mean to "
"I mean to say that Hooker insisted upon leasing
that property to those people against my strong pro
test."
"But why should lie?"
"Why should he? Say, Mr. Smiley, you are too
good to live in this sinful world. Why don t you ask
me how old is Ann, or something hard?"
"But I am in earnest," the minister insisted, "and I
asked you that question in all seriousness."
The real estate man lost his smile right there, and
cudgeled his mind for an answer that would satisfy a
preacher in earnest, and still not harm a good patron.
IO8 MILLS OF MAMMON
However, he did not find the answer, and as the minister
pressed him, reasserting that Mr. Hooker had declared
that he, the agent, was entirely at fault, the answer
came.
"You tell Old Hooker he s a liar. I wanted to fire
that scum the first of the year, but he wouldn t stand
for it. They pay more for the place than any one else
could afford to pay, and Hooker will never see enough
pennies until the devil sets him counting them, so he in
sists that I rent the property to the old tenants, but says
I ve got to put up the rents. He knows they will pay
rather than get out and hunt another landlord. When
he says I rent any property to such cattle without orders
from the owner he lies. I may not pass a plate in
church, as he does, but, by God, I m decent."
The minister went straight to Brother Hooker s of
fice and laid the agent s reply before him. Hooker
flushed up, stammered, coughed, squinted his little black
eyes at the young fool and made up his mind to have it
over with as soon as possible.
"Ahem, Mr. Smiley, ahem, what do we pay you to
do, may I ask?"
"Preach the gospel of Jesus," came the answer.
"Yes, yes, that s it, preach the gospel," he rubbed
his hands slowly. "Does that include the running of
your members private business?" he asked sweetly.
"No, it does not, and I have never undertaken any
such task."
"Exactly; then pray tell me under what head your
visit to my agent comes, if it does not come under the
head of interfering in my private business?" Mr. Hook
er s voice had grown some between the beginning and
end of his question.
"It comes under the head of a church trial, unless
you give me your word of honor that you will put those
people out at once." Smiley was angry at Hooker for
having lied to him in the beginning, and now that he
was fairly trapped wanting to play the same old Baxter
dodge on him.
"Church trial !" Hooker exploded. "Why, you young,
young thingemaderry. I built that church. Church
trial ! If you talk that sort of rot for a week we ll have
to take you by the heels "
AN UNFINISHED CHAPTER ICX)
"I said church trial, and I meant it."
"And I say, not in my church! Young man, you re
crazy! Too much prominence has turned your head,
and my advice to you is to drop this business you ve
been monkeying with and stick straight to the gospel, if
you don t "
"If I don t?" Smiley was white and biting his lips.
"If you don t, you can hunt another church. And
God pity them," he added as an afterthought.
"I want just one more word, Brother Hooker, just
one; if I have word from your agent that he has or
ders to put those people out before next Sabbath, I will
drop your case. If that word does not come, I shall
lay the whole sickening, disgusting story before the
membership and they will decide between us. Good
morning."
For a week the minister labored over his sermon on
the foundations of vice, then submitted it to the two
staunch friends. They approved it, and he delivered it
to a packed church.
When the storm broke the pastor stood to his guns
and demanded that the members found to be profiting
from rentals received from dens of iniquity either dis
pose of the property or leave the church. Once more
he stood in the presence of a divided church, and in
this crisis had less of a following than before, and that
in a far larger- congregation.
A committee chosen from the body of members met
to frame up a set of resolutions for the guidance of the
pastor, and reported that as each man had to be saved
individually it was out of the province of the church
to undertake the regulation of the individual s business
affairs; they also resolved that it was beneath the dig
nity of their pastor to go about among the places he
had admitted visiting; thus balancing one shortcoming
against another, they further resolved to drop all pro
ceedings against erring members and an equally erring
pastor, provided the members accused would be care
ful in renting their properties in future, and he would
agree not to disturb the situation by probing it deeper
than a platitudinous sermon would reach. They in
sisted that they had elected officials to look after the
morals of the city. They, the citizens, paid the officials
110 MILLS OF MAMMON
to do their duty. If they refused, the highest, in fact,
the only consistent duty of the church was to resolve
and pray. Finally, their report insisted that the church
had hired Rev. Theo. Smiley to preach; it being the
sense of the committee that he should confine his la
bors to that, and to the distribution of the no inconsid
erable charity of the church.
The minister asked to be allowed to preach just one
more sermon in their splendid church, when he had
heard the report read; just one, he pleaded, then they
might seek another pastor. A wordy, war followed this
appeal, and finally victory came to the few followers of
the pastor because they were insistent that he be heard
as against the report of the committee.
CHAPTER XV.
THE CHAPTER FINISHED.
The last sermon the Rev. Mr. Smiley preached be
fore the congregation in M , endeared him to the
few loyal souls who wanted more than platitudinous dis
sertations delivered in lieu of straight-from-the-shoulder
condemnation of unrighteousness. And it goes without
saying that Elder Hooker s followers were also well sat
isfied with the sermon ; it aided them materially in shap
ing up their defense against sensationalism in the pulpit.
The good people of the church in D were, to quote
an evangelist, "preparing to fight the devil with fire."
And as they expected to corner his satanic majesty in
the saloon, the Rev. Mr. Smiley was called to fill the
pulpit of another First Baptist church and assist in
feeding the fires in their crusade.
Martha Holcomb had been a very dissatisfied mem
ber since moving to the city.
"Now, that I ve got you. Elder," Martha began, as
the doctor s wife and the minister were seated on the
front porch, "I want to know what you think of the ac
tions of them young men last Sunday evening?" The
doctor s wife smiled at a porch post and the minister
looked his embarrassment.
"Really, Sister Holcomb, I did not attach much im
portance to their behavior. I certainly "
"You didn t, and you a ordained minister! Well, I
don t much wonder. It seems I sensed it, an that s why
I came over here when I saw you had stopped. Now,
I d like to know if you set much importance on th way
your church has ignored my labors since I jined?" Mar
tha squared herself for the conflict, well satisfied that
the minister s defense would be equally weak in this
case.
"Well, Sister Holcomb, I would like to know two
111
112 MILLS OF MAMMON
things before I answer: what you complain of; then,
what you expect."
"I complain of bein set down on, right from the
start." Her voice grew harsh, as she remembered the
many slights a would-be fashionable congregation had
put upon her. "I want you to know that I allus, from
the day I jined father s church, was one of the leadin
members, an when I come to your church I expected
to take up my work in the vineyard just where I left
off in t other church ; but the only thing I git is giggles
and titters from the young things, and a cool How de
do from the rest. Talk about Christian spirit, why,
when I jist offered to shake hands with Judge Jackson s
wife an* asked her how all her folks was, she jist glared
at me an never offered me her hand. An two or three
of them young woman s Christian business things as
was a-standin around jist giggled out loud. An what
sort of a thing is that young woman s business anyway,
a-sendin a lot of young girls an old maids in a-swim-
min , an a-fightin with swords an a-playfn all sorts of
card games an no mothers to look arter them? I call
it scandalous."
"But, my dear sister, the Y. W. C. A. has a most dis
creet and efficient manager in Mrs. Jefferson."
"Mrs. Jefferson is discreet, is she? Well, all I ve
got to say is, that, from what I hev seen of her, she s
one of the friskiest widders I ever see, an it s scandal
ous the way she behaves when that secretary of the
young men s business is around." The minister laughed.
"I allowed you d laugh, but you can t make me believe
any good comes of puttin a passel of girls into rooms
like them with a frisky widder woman, who ain t look-
in arter herself properly, to look arter them. An when
it comes to the young fellers a-boxin each other s heads
off, an a-playin billiards an pool, an* football, an base
ball, an doin sich things as that, an callin it religion,
why, it jist shows me how little real religion they is now
adays."
"You don t mean to imply that you are opposed to
the Y. M. C. A. and the Y. W. C. A. ?"
"Yes, I do. Them boys is a-learnin to play games,
an when they git out in the world they re a-goin t th
saloons and sich places to find them ; an you know that
THE CHAPTER FINISHED 113
a lot of young fellers that goes into the Y. M. C. A.
hain t got no call to be called anything but young heath
ens, an* when it comes to lookin close, the other end of
this business ain t much better. Ain t there been a rob
bery an* two other suspicious cases in th buildin this
year?"
"Yes, but that s no more a charge against the Asso
ciation than the backsliding of a member is chargeable
against the church," Mr. Smiley replied gently.
"No, I reckon not, when the minister preaches noth-
in but milk an honey an a forgivin God. You ain t
preached but two good sermons since I bin in the church,
an they won t let you preach another in a hurry. My
father preached an preached the gospel, an I ain t
heard it preached but once since he died. An I want
to say, that we had a real live church. They wasn t
none of your flimadiddle clubs an* classes, an associa
tions, an they wasn t no suicides an robbin , an when
a member backslid he backslid plum into the lake of
brimstone, an he didn t have no bouquets to take along,
either. When I ask about anything in your church, any
work that ought to be done, I m jist informed in so
many words that it s in the hands of this committee or
that one, and they re sure to do it better n I could. An
so, along with havin preached hell out of the church,
an goin into partnership with the Idolaters an a hob-
nobbin with Catholics, Unitarians an Universalites an
sich trash, an a-goin in fer all sorts of clubs an things
an a-takin the work of the church out of the hands of
the members, it jist seems to me that they ain t no sanc-
tification no more. Why, jist last Sunday I see three
women I hadn t noticed afore, a-takin the Lord s Sup
per, an after meetin I went to them an tried to git
acquainted as a Christian ought to when strangers come
to the house of the Lord; an* what do you s pose I
heard that beautiful guardian of young girls, your dear
Mrs. Jefferson, a-whisperin to the fust one, as soon as
I d turned my back? Well, she giggled an said: Oh,
that s Mrs. Holcomb. She s our cross from the coun
try. Then both of em giggled, an the secretary of
the young men s business, he up an ast them, Did they
hear me in the Bible class? an they all laughed. Now,
I tried to do my Christian duty by them women, who I
114 MILLS OF MAMMON
reckon are some more guardians over young girls, an*
they all jist stared at me; an their hands, when I did
git hold of them, was like dead fish, an their eyes didn t
have a spark of soul in em. An talkin about that
Bible class I got so tired of them a-dodgin th plain
written words about hell an eternal punishment an
a-makin light of all the things Christ taught about
Christian duty an the crosses one has to bear in this
here world that I got plumb disgusted with the whole
passel. They hain t nothin but jist a nice little debatin
society, an almighty careful what they debate about, at
that. So I jist made up my mind, when I found hell
mentioned right out in the lesson fer last Sunday, that
they wouldn t git a chance to dodge it that time, an
they didn t. An then to have that class of young fellers
laugh out loud, when I told Old Lockhard the Lord
would singe his old goat whiskers for him, cause he
said they wasn t any call to talk about a hell here
after, when they could git a smell of it every Sunday
right in church/ or I d miss my guess. I jist said then
the first time I set eyes on Elder Smiley I m goin to
ask him to preach from the text, An tli wicked shall
be consumed in a lake of burnin fire ; and I want you
to, will you do it?"
Martha leaned forward and eyed her pastor, her face
expressing a doubt as to his willingness to commit him
self, in face of what she considered the infidelity of
his members.
"Do you insist upon this wording of my text?" he
inquired.
"Them are the words as I hev carried them in my
heart all the years I bin in the church. An if I didn t
believe them, I could be jist as milk and watery, jist as
unconcerned as the rest of your members. Believin
them words, I hev gone aginst my own flesh an blood,
an*, suffered, an suffered, an sanctified my life. An I
won t be set down on by no infidels in a church, when I
spurn the infidels in my own home. Are you a-goin to
preach that sermon?"
The minister looked at her hard-lined face, scarred
deep in the battle of years.
"Yes, sister," he answered, "I will. I may not be
THE CHAPTER FINISHED 1 15
able to meet your approval, but I shall preach from your
text."
"Land alive !" Martha arose, shading her eyes with
her hand. "There s Jed Holcomb back, as sure as I
live. Well, I must be a-going home; I m much obliged
to you, Elder, an I shall pray that you git help to make
that sermon fit your congregation."
When Martha had gone the two sat in silence for
a time.
"She is impossible," the woman remarked.
"Like many of us," the minister answered. Then he
told the doctor s wife of his early struggles in the min
istry. This woman had been a second mother to him,
and to-day, with the complaints of a congregation in
mind, it seemed good to unburden his heart to her.
"I feel like preaching hell-fire, and I wish I believed
it as literally as does Mrs. Holcomb."
They looked across at the home where Jed and Mary
had just met upon the walk in front of the house.
"Oh, no, you don t," the woman insisted. "All the
troubles of the church, and Sister Holcomb s troubles
on top of them, have upset you. You ll be all right in
a week."
"I don t know," he declared. "It seems as though
everything is slipping away from me; even my sancti-
fication."
"Never mind that," the woman laughed; "just keep
the milk and honey; Sister Holcomb has enough sancti-
fication to supply #ie city."
CHAPTER XVI.
A WHITE SLAVE TRADER.
Pagan s place is not pretentious, consisting as it does
of three "flats" and one of those grim-faced grogshops
that grow, fungus-like, in portions of our cities given
over to the poverty-cursed of many lands, the old-clothes
man, second-hand shoe stores, rag shops, and brothels.
Fagan is entitled to another name, but at this mo
ment it matters not; the name she bears fits as well to
her calling as did that of the old London Jew to his.
However, we know how she came to- be christened
"Fagan" amongst the thugs, short-time men, card sharps,
pimps and pikers of her world. Before she discovered
the all-power that rested in "seeing" the elected guard
ians of public morals when in trouble, she had been ar
rested so often upon the charge of running a "fence" for
child thieves (and older ones probably brought her a
goodly share of their loot) that she came rightly by her
title. And it stuck, even after she took up the more aris
tocratic business of furnishing girls to discriminating
customers : also to the other slave pens in the pool.
One of her shining satellites, "Slick" Snively, is
never seen at Fagan s, yet he is in her employ occasion
ally, and is one of the best decoys in the business. He
is young, good looking, and as yet able physically to
ward off those telltale marks of dissipation which will
begin to show upon him in a year or two; then good-
by to the job that brings him an easy living to-day.
From there to the end of life s chapter his lot will be
cast with the semi-criminal class which feeds upon both
criminal and respectable alike. At this time Snively
has no thought of the end. In the full glory of his
power and patronage he sees a golden future stretching
away before him. A future filled with women and
horses, and he playing both for the limit.
It is only necessary that the quarry be pointed out to
116
A WHITE SLAVE TRADER 117
"Slick" and the reward offered for her capture sufficient
to arouse his cupidity, for him to labor incessantly to
accomplish his ends. What sort of labor is this? Well,
for the open market "Slick" inserts a "want ad" in one
or more of our daily newspapers that reads like this :
"Wanted At once, young women of good appear
ance under twenty preferred light work, steady em
ployment and refined surroundings. Pay liberal, and
sure promotion. Z 42."
To all who answer, a letter is sent upon stationery
purporting to have come from a suit, cloak and furnish
ing house, in need of models, fitters, salesladies, etc.,
etc. The writer requests the applicant to send a photo,
state age, height, weight, etc. If all questions are an
swered to the satisfaction of "Slick," he writes these
daughters of labor to meet him at a given address, or
that they will be met by a lady agent of the concern, if
they live in the city. If they have been lured from small
country towns or farm homes, once in "Slick s" clutches
their fate is sealed. Both Fagan and her agent like the
country-grown article of merchandise better than the
feity product, and are always on the lookout for what
"Slick" jocularly dubs "Fresh Country Butter."
A plump little roll of "Fresh Country Butter" once
safely landed in the city would be taken either direct
from the depot, or from one of Fagan s arranged places
of rendezvous, with her luggage, a loving mother s last
kiss, a father s "God bless you, little girl," or a brother s
"Good luck, and lots of it, little sister," still lingering
with her mid the confusing bustle of the city s surging
life, to a place Fagan has selected for her latest "white
slave." A place where all her pleas for mercy are
thrown back into her crimsoned face by rough brutes
clothed as men, and women who have had all of wom
anhood burned out of them in a worse than hell s fire.
A place where she must yield her virtue within a given
time or go naked. If nakedness will not "cure" her,
starvation follows. Should she withstand torture and
still refuse to yield her body for Fagan s profit, this
daughter of the people, this child of labor, seeking only
the means to life in food, clothing and shelter, must in
the end submit to the ordeal that in our southland costs
the perpetrator his life at the stake. Shocked? Can
Il8 MILLS OF MAMMON
this be true? Why not? Your whole system of prosti
tution is based and grounded in the profit system. If
this girl dies, Fagan loses the dollars it has cost her to
gain possession of the girl s body. "Slick" must be paid.
The officials of a Christian city must be "sugared." T
assure you the raping of innocence is but an incident in
the lives of those who operate our White Slave Pens
in Christian America.
Other means are used to bring victims to Pagan s.
Other want ads are inserted in our papers. Other agents
beside "Slick" take commission. When Fagan has a
customer who wants a certain mill or shop girl whose
ruin he could not accomplish, "Slick" has been put upon
the scent, and by hook or crook, be it weeks or months
in working out, he secures the girl s confidence and
finally gets her to accompany him to a place where she
can be "handled" without fear of interference. Then,
when she is safely housed, and ready to surrender, the
man who sought her ruin in the first place appears as a
"savior" and shows her the only way out.
But one scene in our story is laid at Pagan s. But
one of the growing "army of white slaves" plays a part
in the unfoldment of our tale, and this is the manner in
which the victim was lured into the net. But wait, let
us first enter the home of the Widow Davis in the little
village of Longs Point, and make the acquaintance of
the family.
"Oh, mother, Pve just got an answer to the letter
I wrote Mr. Johnson, and they want me to come next
Monday, sure. Think of it ! Pm to have fifteen dollars
a week at the very start, and more in just a little while."
The speaker, a bright-faced girl of eighteen, threw her
self into her mother s arms and, patting the older wom
an s cheeks, protested, "Now, mother, wasn t you a
goose to object to my sending my photo to them? You
may read it yourself they say they especially need just
such a figure for a model to exhibit all kinds of fine
gowns and cloaks to their stylish customers. My, won t
it be jolly? For once in my life I am going to have
more clothes on my back than I can ever wear out."
Her joyous laugh and the low sobbing of the mother
sounded together for a moment after the girl had ceased
A WHITE SLAVE TRADER IIQ
speaking; then the mother, drying her eyes on a corner
of her apron, looked up and tried bravely to smile
through unshed tears, as she said:
"I don t want to even seem unselfish, Estella. but I
do hate to have you go not only because we will miss
you so, but there s so many pitfalls in the big cities,
child; so many. You have been all your life in this
quiet little town, and I ve tried hard to keep a home
roof, and the three of us together "
"Mother, dear," the girl interrupted, her eyes filling,
"you are not going to lose me. I m not going to the
jumping-ofr" place ; and I m not going to get hung, mur
dered, or drowned; I m just going to try my wings.
Why, I ll be all of eighteen whole years old in a month,
and if you say so I will come home then, just to show
you how groundless your fears and suspicions have
been, and how much of a woman I am grown to be in
the city in one little month."
"But Stella, don t you think it would be well to
give this letter to our minister and have him investigate
and see if this firm is really respectable? I ve heard
some awful stories about the way they treat girls in
some of those places."
"Why, mother, that would take weeks and weeks.
Besides, here s their letterhead," she took the letter in
question from her mother s trembling hand, "not just
a printed one, you see, but well, anyway, I don t know
what they call it, but you can see it s expensive, and
you don t suppose they d go to all that trouble if they
were not in business ? Besides, they say, Our reliability
is attested by the record of our sales last year, amount
ing to above five hunderd thousand dollars/ And then
they want me next Monday "
"The minister could go in," the mother began.
"How you talk, mother. Just as though a big firm
like that would want to keep a place waiting for a little
country girl while ministers or any one else nosed
around asking if they were respectable." Throwing her
arms about her mother, she concluded: Not another
word, mother mine, not one more tiny little word. 1
wrote them before I came up from the store."
The mother s voice was muffled as she answered
from the girl s shoulder. "It ought not to be so hard
I2O . MILLS OF MAMMON
for me to let you go, dear heart, for you are a good
girl, and can take care of yourself, and I suppose I
shouldn t make objections when I know you always do
the very best you can for me and, and Stella, I can
trust you anywhere to love God and live right, can t I ? *
"Yes, mother, always," with a kiss. "There, there,
run out into the kitchen. Ann is coming, and I want to
surprise her all by myself. That s a good mother."
Mrs. Davis had but left the room when her eldest
daughter, an overworked teacher in the towii school,
came in and threw herself into the nearest chair.
"I declare, I am just fagged out. Why, Stell, what s
this?" She had taken the letter from her sister s hand
at the moment she sat down, but had been so absorbed in
her own troubles that her mind had not grasped what
her eyes saw upon the paper. After that first question
ing, "what is this?" she did not lift her eyes from the
letter until it had been read to the end.
"Fifteen dollars per week, Stella? And nothing to
do but try on clothes. Say, Stell, just try and get me
a job there." She looked up at the radiant girl and
tried to put on a brave face, even tho the tears were
close. "You with your plump figure, togged out in a
thousand-dollar gown, could have me, or what s left of
me, after eight years fighting with an average of forty-
eight boys for nine months out of each year, stand be
side you in my bones, and Miss Botcher s dress fitting
why, it would be immense!" Both girls laughed as
they thought of the dressmaker whose name fitted so
well, then Ann went on seriously: "Stell, you think
it over, and tell your head window trimmer about it ; he
could paint a sign, "Before and After Wearing Our
Gowns," and hang it up over us. We are near enough
alike in features to pass say, Stell, you must get me
a job."
"Mother s afraid to let me go," Estella began, when
Ann, forgetting her fatigue, sprang from the chair
and almost took her sister from her feet as she caught
and kissed her. "Afraid to let you go?" she repeated.
"Of course she s afraid to let you go why, she used
to be afraid to let me go out and close the yard gate
after dark, and that isn t so long ago, either. But you
go. Don t stay in this town and be buried before you
A WHITE SLAVE TRADER 121
die. Look at me, Stell I was just as pretty and plump
as you are, at your age; and I m worked to death at
twenty-five, and no one seems to care any more." With
quivering lips and eyes filled with tears the teacher
looked into her young sister s bright face, and, pluckily
putting self behind her, went on: "Don t miss your
chance to go where people live ; it may never come again
I ll do my best to keep mother in good spirits."
"Oh, Ann, you are so good!" Estella whispered;
"you are good to both of us and honestly, Ann, I am
not at all anxious for myself; I, too, want to help keep
this little home for mother."
That evening after consulting time tables the wid
ow s daughters sent a message to the city stating that
Estella Davis would arrive at the Grand Central depot
at four o clock the afternoon of the next Sunday.
CHAPTER XVII.
MADAME VAUGHN S AND THE EAGLE CLUB.
In an old red brick mansion, gray stone trimmed, set
well back in shaded grounds on one of the respectable
thoroughfares of the metropolis wherein the tragedy of
this tale unfolds, there is high revel to-night. Madame
Vaughn and her daughters (by adoption) and nieces
pro tanto, who have their automobile, carriage, trap, and
liveried attendants, are enjoying a prosperous season.
Once upon a time a time held green in the memory
of staid business men, and mothers of other mothers
this old red brick mansion was new. Within its wel
coming portals tripped the youth and beauty of a city
growing to the years of accountability. There was then
laughter and song within these walls children s happy
voices and the echoes of scampering little feet, filled
out the measure of harmony.
But hold ! Is there not laughter and song to-night ?
Yes, they are laughing but such laughter ! Those who
make it have forgotten how to make laughter that
sweet bubbling over of pure joy. But they are singing.
Yes, surely Madame Vaughn s daughters and nieces
sing. Listen to the ribald words, rude flung from lips
that have lost the perfume of youth s sweet flowers
music wrung in ragtime from the lips of women who
each day sink lower and still lower into the yawning
quagmire of vice, and cease to struggle, even while there
is hope of rescue, for struggling means remembrance,
and to them, the great majority of them, remembrance is
as a death s-head at a feast.
Madame Vaughn s old red brick mansion, with its
gray stone trimmings, this night, all nights, knows both
song and laughter, if you are satisfied to so name the
sounds we hear in passing. Within the portals of this
old rmnsion "the better element" of our citizenship pass
and repass. No Hooligan or harlot from the street; no
122
MADAME VAUGHN S AND THE EAGLE CLUB 123
common laborer or factory girl on the downward way
may pass the gilded, guarded portals of this great estab
lishment, where the cheapest room rents for twenty dol
lars per night, while the best accommodations the house
affords, with Madarne s sweet-scented presence in at
tendance, at the minimum, costs one hundred dollars.
No, this old red brick mansion is not a brothel it is
worse! Here those who pose and preach, and hold
themselves above the common life, meet to do to death
the social virtues of our time.
We will enter. Are you safely past the doorkeeper?
Then follow me to the parlor. Once upon a time the
portraits of men and women who had served their coun
try and their families with equal honor adorned these
walls. Look you! They have been replaced by works
of art depicting God s fairest gift to earth naked and
not ashamed. This floor was covered once upon a time
with a carpet hallowed by the tread of women whose
passions were sanctified in the lives of prattling babies.
See, in the corner there; a dark stain is peeping from
underneath that rug with a border of lilies of the valley.
Just the other night a young man, seeking the depths of
life s cup of madness, found a sister in the woman they
would have put into his polluted arms. Their mingled
blood ate deep into the sturdy oak. Yes, they washed
and washed again, but this stain, like the social sin from
which it had birth, may not be washed away the very
flooring must be torn out.
See those bronzes? Behold the priceless marbles,
mirrors, and other splendid furnishings. Look well !
To pay for each adornment within these naked walls
women have wept countless tears, both here and in
ruined homes. Souls have shriveled, arid bodies have
been consumed in an agony of pain known only to those
damned souls who have visited the bottom of Hell s
deepest cave. Look about you and ponder well. This
old red brick mansion is but a type. In this broad land,
for each church spire pointing toward the blue, there
stands a "Madame Vaughn s," and this curse is being
fastened more firmly each day upon us, while the pus
from this social ulcer wells up and flows into respectable
homes over the doorsills dedicated to the sanctity of
virtue and family honor.
124 MILLS OF MAMMON
But let us be going. On a Sunday night in the fu
ture, as the chimes ring out the hour of worship from
an hundred church towers, we shall return. Then you
shall look upon an animated picture; and as you look,
your very heart shall sob and your soul cry out that
this cup, too, may pass from the lips of innocence.
The Eagle Club is housed in a most pretentious
structure. As I have gazed upon it from over the way,
I have not wondered that many of our good citizens,
who fall below its requirements in the matter of any
one or more of the requisites to membership a goodly
bank account, a well-tested political pull, and last, but
not least, a way of finding easy money feel envious,
yet withal are proud that WE have such a magnificent
club building and Club within our city.
Certainly, there are other Clubs, and some of them
quite pretentious, but the "Eagle," like that old red
brick mansion, gray stone trimmed, easily stands at the
head. What the saloon of our political ward-heeler
"Bat" is to the brothel, the "Eagle" and its brood is
to such establishments as that of Madame Vaughn.
See how imposing is its massive granite front. Sup
porting the beautiful cornice of winged Cupids, those
splendid monoliths give one the impression of super-
strength. Behold its great plate windows flanked by
iron, tortured by the cunning hand of skilled workmen
into marvelous creations flowers and leaves, and curv
ing, twisting, curling threads of drawn metal. See
those great doors? As they hang loaded with a wealth
of bronze trimmings they each cost a prince s ransom.
Behind all this outward show of strength and beauty
there is a prodigality of wealth a riot of luxurious ap
pointment, and menial service par excellence. If you
but have the "front" necessary to gain admittance to
the Eagle Club, an hundred doors open to your need
of asylum. Within the*e walls you may do anything
short of murder, and the flunkies, so long as they are
retained, will keep your secrets as do the massive granite
walls. Your friends, whatever the bond that binds them
to you loyalty, pull, graft, business, vice, crime, or
what not may reach you through the "Eagle," and all
125
the world outside will remain in ignorance of your
meeting, or your plotting.
These massive doors, front, side and rear, lead into
many suites where young men learn to take the down
ward way; where drunkards are made to order; where
women, and many of them wives, are bought and sold ;
where the people s liberties are traded in by statesmen
as puts and calls are dealt upon the board of trade;
where Captains of Industry plan their gentlemen s
agreements and their next sally upon some crippled busi
ness; where employers meet the agents they have hired
to hire other men to spy upon the men in their em
ploy; where judges and attorneys meet to misconstrue
the law.
Here, behind these massive walls, you may see the
meeting of all the forces that cut deep into the virtues
of our time, save one. Saloon, hotel and lodging house,
this club has such respect for Madame Vaughn and the
common decencies that women are barred by law. How
ever, it has been whispered that members have enter
tained lady friends, the latter in male attire.
In its gymnasium on quiet nights "pugs" from the
squared circle are entertained. In its card rooms, young
bloods who live beyond the need to labor sit down to
lose the gold their fathers wrung from industry to card
sharps who in politics are leaders in the municipality s
struggle for better things. In athletics the gaming pro
clivities of the Eagle s brood debases whatsoever it
touches.
Are the majority of the members of the Eagle such
debased, depraved, debauched men as this indictment
would imply? No, surely not! The Eagle Club can
send its full membership forth ttpon short notice to
grace a "function" in the name of charity, and each
man jack of them will appear in immaculate linen, fault
lessly attired, and stand approved of the world a gen
tleman. Again, within its portals this club has enter
tained the paunchy prognosticator and the gold-filled
human icicle. Its lavish hospitality has been tested by
every grade of nobleman the old world has produced,
and others who, craving the servile worship of the free
and the brave, to say nothing of the chance of securing
a few good American millions, have passed the portals
126 MILLS OF MAMMON
of the Eagle as lords, counts, dukes, and earls, when in
truth they were but sorry adventurers, though probably
of better blood than were the men they aped. No, surely
the Eagle Club is not to be lightly condemned. Its
every member has the outward seeming of gentility;
and this same outward seeming is society s sole badge
of honor.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A WHITE SLAVE PEN.
On the Sunday appointed for the introduction of
just another of our country girls to the mysteries of
city life, a closed carriage drew up on a side street near
the depot at ten minutes to four. "Slick" Snively
alightei therefrom and sauntered over to the great .cen
tral station, leaving no less a personage in the carriage
than Fagan. At five minutes past four Slick" reap
peared at the least frequented exit from the station car
rying a suit case and leading a pretty young woman.
Immediately the driver of Pagan s carriage whipped up
his team and pulled up on the corner just long enough
to allow Fagan to open the door from within, when
"Slick" threw the suitcase in and hurriedly assisted the
young lady to enter. With a signal to the driver "Slick"
turned and walked rapidly toward the heart of the city,
as the carriage rattled away over the ill-paved streets
toward the south.
Upon regaining her breath after being hurried from
the train to the carriage Estella took a good look at the
lady sitting opposite no, she didn t like her but then,
in business we are not supposed to like people ; we either
use them or they use us. Was Mrs. Collins going to
speak first? It seemed that that lady was well pleased
with the golden silence. "Well, one of us must begin,"
the girl told herself, and the next moment was saying:
"Pardon me; is this Mrs. Collins?"
Yes, I m Mrs. Collins," the lady replied, smiling,
and wondered how many other names "Slick" would in
vent for her.
"Mr. Johnson informs me that you are the leading
saleslady, and will have charge of my education." Fa
gan nodded, and Estella asked: "May I enquire where
we are going?"
"I am taking you to my house."
127
128 MILLS OF MAMMON
"I m so glad!" the girl exclaimed, and added: "I
must look like a fright after riding almost all day but
isn t it putting you out to take me to your home?"
"Oh, no," Pagan assured her, "I am quite used to
taking care of the girls Mr. Johnson gets for our busi
ness." Turning from the girl s searching eyes, she
smiled grimly as she noted the progress they were mak
ing.
The sights of the town had attracted Estella s atten
tion and she was intensely interested in the passing
throng, while a number of those at whom she gazed
turned a second time to look at the sweet face at the
carriage window. Seeing this, Fagan deliberately low
ered the blinds over the upper half of the glass, observ
ing as she did so, that she didn t enjoy being stared at.
When the carriage stopped in front of Pagan s there
wasn t a soul in sight, unless we are charitable enough to
assume that the beer-tub of a policeman, who waddled
away as the carriage drew up to the curb, had a soul.
This policeman, as dirty as the law allows ; as lazy as a
fat coon at the after end of a sun bath, knew all about
Pagan s. His waddling away out of sight of the house
would allow him to swear upon honor, should trouble
come, that, he "never seen nobody tooken out iv th rig
th day ye mention."
Gus, Pagan s burly bartender, ran out and opened
the carriage door, the driver and he exchanging winks
and grins the while. Fagan threw the suitcase to him:
as he caught it with one hand he reached the other beer-
stained paw into the carriage.
"Let the gentleman help you out," Fagan admonished
the girl, who shrank back from the leering hulk before
her. In an undertone the woman asked: "Is the coast
clear, Gus?"
Gus winked, caught Estella by the sleeve of her
jacket, and in a twinkling, with the assistance of Fagan,
the girl was whisked over the pavement and started on
her way to the upper world ; but not before she had
caught a glimpse of the wretched street, the dirty, grime-
covered pavement and the sickening squalor of all vis
ible things about her. On the first landing Fagan
turned to Gus, who still held Estella s arm in his grasp,
A WHITE SLAVE PEN
and said: "I can manage her now you get back to
the bar."
Down the hall Estella heard a man s voice in song,
then the high falsetto of a female voice joined in the
chorus. The words of the song unprintable brought
a blush of shame to her cheeks. Out of a near-by door
way appeared a tousled-headed woman who had ap
parently just gotten out of bed. Her eyes were swollen,
her face blotched with great, angry red pimples, her
lips thick and protruding her whole aspect one of aban
don to dissipation and disease that had marked her for
early death.
"Ruth," Pagan called to this wretched being,
"where s Red? "
"I don t know," Ruth answered, and again the chorus
of that awful song floated out to them. Estella was
struck dumb, almost paralyzed with fear, and her inno
cent brown eyes were turned upon the face of the woman
Ruth. Horror, loathing, and all else that a pure young
girl might feel in her presence, Ruth read in her face.
"What th devil are you staring at?" she demanded,
coming closer to the girl, who shrank back as from con
tagion.
"You re some now, ain t you? But you wait," the
woman laughed. "If you re alive in five years just take
another look in the glass that s all." With that she
turned to her room and, entering, slammed the door.
Estella had fallen at the feet of her captor without
uttering a word. Ruth was called ; so, too, the drunken
man and his equally drunken companion; between them,
this new victim of the "system" was carried to the tog
floor and deposited on a filthy bed in an inside room,
where outcry could not be heard from the outside world ;
where rescue was all but impossible.
A bottle of vile whisky produced from the pocket
of the drunken man, the burning liquid was forced be
tween the lips of this sweet flower from God s garden
one of the children we love who had been lured into
hell. Lured into hell that respectable citizens and poli
ticians might make profit out of the distillation of her
beauty and virtue, then fling the residue of her young
life on society s dung-heap for "W. C. A. s" and other
kindred patchers to pry at and pray over.
130 MILLS OF MAMMON
While the drunken man caressed his equally drunken
mate; while Pagan stood speculating as to the cost of
bringing the girl across ; while Ruth looked at the new
comer with envy, telling herself that should she have
such a chance as she saw ahead of this beautiful girl
she would not be such a fool as to take to dope again;
while they stood grouped about the bed, Estella re
gained consciousness. Springing from the bed, she ran
to the door, to find it locked. With a cry that pierced
to the floors below she threw out her hands:
"Mother, mother, mother God forgive me! you
knew !"
"Oh, if mother could only see me now !" the drunken
man mocked, while Ruth and his companion laughed at
the agony of the victim.
"Clear out and leave her to me !" Pagan commanded,
and the trio quit the room, the man insisting that he
was entitled to a kiss for having carried her upstairs.
"Send Red up!" Pagan shouted after them, and turned
to find the girl on her knees at her feet.
Mrs. Collins, tell me," the girl pleaded, "as >ou
remember your own mother, "what kind of a place is
this you have brought me to? Tell me, in the name of
God!"
"Oh, cut it!" Pagan cried, catching Estella by the
shoulders. "I m tired of hearing you young things beg
in the name of God for a day or two, then in the name
of mercy after you find that the preacher s god don t
reach outside the church; then when you know what
you re up against, it s Please, Fa Mrs. Collins, tell
me what you want and I ll do it/ I tell you I m tired
of it."
Shuddering in every fiber of her being, this seven
teen-year-old daughter of the church crouched before
her captor. No longer holding to the skirts of this hag
of hell, the literal, all too literal hell, she bowed her
head and steeled her heart to hear her doom.
"There s no hope of any of your people finding you."
The girl winced, but no sound escaped her set lips.
"And so if you have a lick of sense you will take what s
a straight tip. The sooner you and I come to terms,
the sooner you ll get out of this room and move down
stairs. With your youth and that face and figure of
A WHITE SLAVE PEN 13!
yours, the fool men will fall over themselves to give
you anything you ask for ; and I tell you flat you ve got
to come to it. You re going to have time to think it
over; but when that time s up there ll be things doing
if you don t come across, that s all."
Pagan looked down at her victim, and in a matter
-of-fact voice added: "When you come right down to
business, this is just as honorable and all that sort of
rot, as marrying for money so make up your mind to
do what I want you to, and the sooner you db the bet
ter for you. For instance, how would you like to have
Gus, the gent that met us at the carriage, come up and
visit you?"
"Oh, not that! not that!" Estella protested, spring
ing to her feet to face her tormentor.
Pagan backed toward the door, saying: "Well, think
it over there s been girls in this room that fared
worse."
For hours after Fagan left the room Estella Davis
lay upon the filthy bed weeping and praying, then com
plete exhaustion brought sleep to her troubled mind s
rescue. When she awoke it was to find a red-haired
woman bending over her, saying in no unfriendly voice :
"So our country bird has had a good night s sleep, has
she ?"
"Have I been here all night? Is this another day?
O my God, I can t bear to think. Is there no way out
of this wretched place? Please, please help me; isn t
there a way out?" The girl poured a flood of ques
tions at the woman who stood by the bed intently study
ing her.
A chill of death pierced her heart as she looked into
the woman s eyes, when she had spent herself question
ing, and heard "Red" Kate s verdict:
"There s just two ways, an one of them s to die."
"If I don t do what Mrs. Collins wants, how long
will they keep me here?"
"Until you re ready to give in and do like the rest
of us has to do. I tell you there s only one way to git
out of here alive," "Red" asserted, firmly.
Leaving the bed, Estella examined every corner of
her prison, peered into a smelly clothes closet, turned to
another door and found nothing but a pile of filthy rags
132 MILLS OF MAMMON
in an equally filthy toilet room; all lit from a skylight
upon which the year s accumulation of soot and dirt
had never been removed. In all her search she found
nothing upon which to hang a hope for bodily comfort,
let alone a way looking toward liberty. Turning back
to the woman who had watched her every movement,
she inquired, "Where are my clothes and all the things
I brought here?"
"Perkin up some, all right, when you can ask after
your glad rags the second day," Kate observed, as the
girl sat on the edge of the bed. "First one I ve seen in
here that didn t* either pull out hair by the handful, or
sulk like a settin hen. Say," she continued, "I would
honest hate to see you stripped and starved. You re
made of th right stuff, an* I d like f help you. You
jist better tell the Madame you re ready for biz an have
it over with. An you don t need to worry none, she
ain t going to hand you over to Gus an th gang that
comes here; she won t turn you over to no such blokes
as them. Why (with cool, discriminating eye judgment
she looked the girl over from head to foot), you ought
to fetch the top, an fall plump into a tub of good things.
God, girl ! I wisht I had your chance !" Her exclama
tion was vehement.
As the girl measured the woman before her, and
realized that she was speaking from the heart, earnest
ly seeking to do what lay in her power to aid, a deep
pity for the woman filled her soul. "Red" Kate was not
all bad, then; something of womanliness was still hers
after the buffeting of all the years of her slavery.
"What do you mean? What chance do they offer
me, which, if you had it, would improve your lot?"
"Improve my lot !" she grasped the girl s arm. "Girl,
you don t know what even the lot of such as me is in
one of these places. I m the dog, the drudge, the the
my God, don t you drive them to torture you until
you ain t fit to go out of here. Promise Madame to
do anything she asks if she will only git you some swell
guy to take care of you. Lie to her ; make her believe
you have been on the turf. But stick to it that you
won t have nothing to do with the scum that comes to
this place it s the only way out."
Steps sounding in the hall, "Red" Kate made a sign
A WHITE SLAVE PEN 133
of silence to the prisoner and busied herself about the
untidy room. A key turned in the lock and Pagan en
tered, looking first at the girl on the edge of the bed,
then at Kate as she stooped over a shabby rug.
"You can go, "Red;" if our visitor wants to clean
house it will be good exercise for her to look after the
room herself." Estella did not look up, even after Kate
had gone, and she knew Pagan stood regarding her.
"Well, Miss Moore, how are you this morning?"
At the question Estella gave a quick glance about, and
Pagan laughed.
"You don t seem to recognize your new name," she
bantered.
"My new name?"
"Yes, Miss Norma Moore; ain t it a stunner?"
"But it s not mine ; you know it s not mine," the girl
protested.
"I know it is yours, and advise you to forget that
you ever had any other. You will find it a pretty good
graft to have a good name, so you ought to thank me
instead of looking at me as though you were afraid I
might eat you."
"I m not afraid," Estella retorted, but her heart
thumped in panic as the woman grinned and came to
her.
"How are you feeling this morning?" Pagan next
asked, and was surprised at the answer.
"I m hungry as a wolf. If you will remember, I
haven t had a bite since I ate my lunch on the train-
yesterday." Narrowly she watched every line of her
jailer s face. Was she all bad? Was there nothing to
do but fight for time and hope that Kate might accom
plish her deliverance? If that were the only way out,
she must not quarrel with Mrs. Collins. There was
grave doubt on the keeper s part as well. What sort
of a girl was this? Young and innocent-looking, but
she didn t rave and pray as the others did. Would she
be the easier handled for that, or would it be another
case like that of the big blond they were some alike,
Pagan told herself as she turned at the door to say,
"I ll have something sent up, and hope you will forgive
me for not thinking of it last night."
On the floor below she found "Red" Kate. "Say,
134 MILLS OF MAMMON
Red, what s the rip with the girl upstairs she hasn t
caved this soon, has she?"
Kate laughed. "Fooled you, didn t she? She ain t
got no cavin to do. Why, she s a sport, and a top-
notcher at that, or you may steam me." "Red" was
laying the wires for Estella s release, without the young
lady knowing aught of the matter, and it is quite likely
that she would have been forbidden to hint such a lie to
Pagan had Estella been consulted.
The girl in the room above sat down when Fagan
left her to face the greatest problem of her life. She
did not dare to die, even if means to that end were at
hand. A religious faith that doomed the suicide to suf
fer outside the gates of heaven through all eternity left
but one path open to her. She wondered if "Red" Kate
really knew just how hard that path would prove to be?
And what would happen should she refuse to wear her
new name and surrender her virtue ? Satisfied that there
was but one thing to choose, and that a life abhorrent,
she threw herself on the bed and buried her burning
face upon the tear-soaked pillow, and was still crying
out that the thing they asked of her was more than she
could give, even for life itself, when Kate brought her
breakfast.
CHAPTER XIX.
A TRAGEDY AT MADAME S.
At Madame Vaughn s the night after Estella
Davis arrived at Pagan s a tragedy was enacted that
cost the life of one of her charming daughters, also
the life of a transient customer a visitor to the city.
But think not that the harmony drawn from taut
gut and wire under strain, and that happiness pro
jected in lewd jest and ragtime, in Madame s old red
brick mansion is to be hushed; or that this establish
ment is to be brought to book and made to give aa
accounting of its connection with -this tragedy, wherein
an erring brother chancing upon a long lost sister, took
into his own puny hands the instrument of vengeance,
plunging two lives, in a moment of insanity, into the
great beyond.
No, there is too much of power, too much of social
explosive, too much of intrigue, too much of profit, too
much of practical politics stored in the old red brick
mansion for the two dead bodies to be given into the
bands of the city s officers.
No sooner is the last shot fired, the last body fallen
to the velvet covered floor of Madame s parlor, than the
underground force that serves to bind crime and politics
was put to work. Telephones ring and ring again. Out
from dark and loathsome places in our great metropolis
men and women come trooping to do -the will of this en-
rtertainer of wealthy, representative citizens. The or
ders issued by Madame are that these bodies be re
moved.
In the gray light of the next morning the man s
body was found by working men on their way to toil,
half hidden by weeds upon a vacant lot. The "victim"
had been roughly used; clothes torn and pockets rifled
(the loot Madame s servants left upon the body paid
in part the cost of having him thrown there). The
135
136 MILLS OF MAMMON
police were notified, but before their arrival a morbid
crowd had collected, and proceeded roundly to curse the
police and the hold-up men, as they pushed and craned,
and struggled to view the remains.
No mark of identification, no name; just another
stranger in a strange city murdered and robbed on the
highway. How that commonplace mob of average citi
zens of the common life would have shuddered could
they have divined the awful social tragedy written in
the death of this nameless one!
Far from the old red brick mansion that morning,
on a street given over to the lost among women, to
poverty and crime, festering crime, in a dilapidated
building displaying the sign "Furnished Rooms," in a
small back hallroom lay the body of a young and beau
tiful woman. She lay with her dark mass of hair hang
ing to the floor, her body half on, half off the bed.
Upon the floor lies her brother s revolver. The daily
press told that morning of a brutal murder on the
West Side, and in the next column of the News you
may read the story of a beautiful woman s suicide in
a cheap lodging house in the red-light district.
At all events, the woman who kept the house swore
the girl had been with her for more than a week. Swore
that she had kept to her room almost constantly. And
still swore she was positive there was no one with the
girl when she shot herself yes, she heard the shot fired,
but thought it was some of the boys practicing in the
basement.
One of the girls in the house swore she went out
with "Lib" the night before. That they had returned
together, and "Lib" (they gave her this name after
death, and it fitted as well as another) was feeling down
on her luck and talked about ending it all. That "Lib"
went up to her room about eleven o clock. No, she
didn t hear the shot, but she swore she believed the girl
had killed herself, as she had threatened to do.
******
To-day Madame Vaughn s daughters and nieces are
not quite so buoyant as is their wont, but business goes
on, laughter and song still cheer the merry gentlemen
who pay the score. Madame, too, is depressed, not that
she fears the crime will be traced to her doors, but rather
A TRAGEDY AT MADAME^S 137
that the knowledge of the tragedy which will -find both
voice and ears among the inner circle of her retainers
is likely to affect business adversely for several days
to come. On still another count Madame mourns. Was
not this fresh young beauty, soon to rest in one of the
city s pauper lots, one of the sweetest baits she had
ever had to dangle before the greedy eyes of her clients ?
And surely, most surely, the loss of the profit this girl s
surrender brought to Madame s bank account is rea
son enough to account for Madame s rather sullen face
this morning. We find Madame seated at her writing
table in a boudoir filled to overcrowding with all the
comforts and luxuries modern labor, ingenuity and art
so abundantly produce by the aid of machinery, in this
age of machines and human things to run them. A boy
enters page to this queen in the kingdom of painted
Eves.
"Pagan s downstairs, and wants to see you/ he an
nounced.
"Pagan?" Madame looked up. "So Pagan wants
her pay for the part her people had in covering up the
tragedy rather hurriedly," Madame thought, but to the
boy she said, "Show her up. Wait; did she come in
by the front way?"
"What? Pagan?" the boy asked. The very suspi
cion that Pagan could be so indiscreet, and in broad
daylight at that, was resented by this world-wise youth.
"I should say not! She came up the alley. Pagan
wasn t born yesterday," he concluded, with a laugh.
Madame did not like the woman who in the hall be
low was waiting the return of the boy. Pagan is not
in Madame s class. The gulf between is measured not
so much by class distinction as by the wide difference
in the methods used by the two for the piling up of
profits. Madame holds herself the more respectable.
Madame may be a sinner, she admits as much ; but Pa
gan is impossible, unspeakable! She was still thinking
of this difference when a cheery voice sounded from the
doorway, and Pagan, superbly gowned and jeweled,
stood bowing her salutation.
"Come in, Pagan; I m delighted to see you, for I
can hand you the money to square your folks for han
dling that job the other night."
138 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Why," Pagan declared as she seated herself across
the table from her hostess, "do you know I never
thought of that what I came to -see you about is a girl
down at my street place. I have no usfe for her
down there, and I thought since Myrt well, since the
trouble you had here the night before last if you could
get a girl to take her place, one who is in every way
as good, better, in fact, better figure, better eyes, better
mettle, a topnotcher, I thought you d be glad of the
chance."
Madame was surprised that Fagan should have the
nerve to offer her, the great Madame Vaughn, a girl
from such a place, and showed it.
"Why, Fagan !" she exclaimed, "whatever put it into
your head that I could possibly use one of your girls?"
"She isn t one of my kind, Isabella. That s why I
knew you d want her. She s different."
"Where did you pick her up ?" Madame inquired.
"In the country oh, she s not an unformed, gawky,
gander-legged thing," the visitor added hastily; "she s
the best ever, and in the duds you d put on her she d
be worth at least two hundred dollars clean money per
month to you."
"And suppose I took this country paragon off your
hands, how much would it set me back as an invest
ment?"
"We won t talk about that now; you come and see
the girl you won t be hard to deal with after that."
"Honest, Fagan," Madame answered, "I don t like
to go down there."
"Suit yourself, Isabelle; I remember the time when
you wasn t so damned partic "
"Cut it, Fagan. We don t need to quarrel," Madame
interposed softly. "Suppose I come down in a closed
carriage to-morrow at three; will that suit you?"
"Anything to please you," Fagan replied.
******
Closeted behind the close-locked doors of Fagan s
upper world, Madame Vaughn sat in consultation with
the mistress of the place at the time appointed.
"You are too superstitious, Fagan. To hear you
talk, one would think you had seen a combination of
black cat and hen to-day; and your suspicions about the
A TRAGEDY AT MADAME^S 139
girl are all wrong. S he will never care enough about
you to make an attempt to see this place again, and if
she did see it, it s so much like a thousand others that
unless she took the number she couldn t swear to it.
Suppose she did; she doesn t know anything else, does
she?"
"No, she don t, and what s more, I don t propose
that she shall. She is going out of here asleep, and you
may have the pleasure of her surprise when she wakes
up at your place. It won t hurt her a bit," Fagan pro
tested, as Madame seemed to object ; "just a few knock
out drops in a cup of tea about bedtime, then they can
handle her, and she ll never know where she was be
fore you got her."
"All right, but don t hurt her; she s costing me too
much," the Madame urged, as she took a well-filled wal
let from the handbag. "Two hundred for the girl, and
one-fifty for that work the other night." She held the
bills in her hand, while Fagan with outstretched arm
and wiggling fingers waited. Madame looked squarely
at Fagan and said: "You re pulling my leg in great
shape."
"Oh, cheese it, Vaughn," the speaker s arm was
stretched to the limit, "pulling nothing. Why, if I had
a swell joint like yours, and a couple of panels on the
side, I d say nothing about the extracting of a little wad
like that hurting give me the coin."
Madame counted the money into her hostess hand
without further comment until Fagan said, "Gee, I d like
to have your roll."
"You ought to know by this time that the politicians
and police take three-fourths of all we get," Madame
protested hotly, "and damn em, I d like to blow em
sky high."
Madame has claws, and on occasion can use them as
well as her tongue. As she spoke her beautiful fea
tures lost for the moment their last pleasant curve and
her eyes shone like points of light as she cursed the
guardians of our public morals for their robbery of her
treasure. Some day she hopes to repay with interest all
the insults and petty persecutions she has suffered. And
as each day adds to her store of remembrances, and
each day also brings its cross of smiles and wiles with
140 MILLS OF MAMMON
which to meet those who take the lion s share of her
spoils, this beautiful-faced queen of the under world
is being shaped into an instrument of vengeance for use
upon those who have made of her a plaything for their
pleasure and profit. This woman is dangerous, all up
right people declare. She is. Could those who take a
salary from society and a profit from vice look into her
eyes as she curses them and their greed, they, too, would
declare her dangerous, and draw but little comfort from
their next dividend from the under world. Some day
the Madame may refuse to pay for protection what
then? Some day a moral spasm may strike us and last
more than a month. Madame s old red brick mansion
and the panel houses may be raided, for good and all.
Madame in court is almost as dangerous to some of our
pillars of society as the panel houses are to young farm
ers, older farmers and visiting merchants, and others
who seek the by-paths of life when at a safe distance
from their loving families.
Pagan s face was a study as Madame railed against
those who robbed her. Craft and cunning marked Fa-
gan s every step through the maze in which such busi
ness as hers must be transacted.
"Don t do nothing rash, Isabelle. Our time will come.
You don t need to think I have been facing the pen
or worse these five years without having something up
my sleeve for the goo-goos if it comes to a showdown,
so you go ahead and blow them up when you get every
thing fixed and rest easy about my being in on it.
I ve got the goods on enough of them, and got it down
in black and white, to turn this town wrong side out.
And I ll say again, as I have many a time before, I d
enjoy a trip down the canal if I could only know that
some of the men I ve had to put up to were going along.
Say, Isabelle, if just you and I could get into all the
papers tomorrow morning and tell the good folks what
we know about things in this town, wouldn t there be
a bomb dropped into high life that would put the an
archists and gamblers a thousand years in the past?"
The Madame laughed and the beauty curves came out
upon her pretty face until she looked as good as a saint
at prayer. The smile faded as she looked at Pagan.
"Don t look at me that way, your face would frighten the
A TRAGEDY AT MADAMES 14!
devil himself," she reached across the table and tapped
Pagan on the arm, "some day you ll be driven a little
farther than usual, and you won t wake up till that bomb
of yours has exploded. No, Fagan," she went on ser
iously, "there s nothing for us but to play the game.
We play the game, do the drudgery, take all -the abuse,
and in the end go to hell; others hold all the marked
cards, have all the pleasure, take all the profit, and the
preachers tell them they are going straight to heaven."
M adame Vaughn arose to go. "Cheer up, Fagan,"
she said in parting, "forget the bomb, be as good to
the girls as you can, and take it all out on the men. Take
the last cent they have and half their clothes; they de
serve it. Of course," she added, "they get the swag
away from us somehow, but we have this satisfaction,
they are all men, the one half of them we rob, the other
half rob us, the first are fools and the last are thieves
some day we may need that bomb, but not soon. Have
the girl sent up on time, and don t you dope her too
heavy."
CHAPTER XX.
"THEY S ONLY ONE WAY. *
The door of Estella s room opened and "Red" Kate
entered. Setting a tray of victuals on the little table
she turned to the occupant of the room :
"There you are, my beauty, and it s a better breakfast
than any of us has had in mondis, and by Madame s
orders at that."
The girl lifted her face from the pillow, her eyes
red and swollen from weeping. For a moment Kate
looked at her in silence, while something of terror grew
in her own eyes. "Girl, girl," she cried, "if you don t
want to have me murdered, if you want me to help you,
you jist got to quit that blubbering. Why, if Fa Mrs.
Collins was to come in and see you in that fix after the
con talk I ve give her, she d have our lives. An if she
didn t kill me she d at least give you the same dose
some of the others git. She would, by God, she would !"
The frightened girl promised to dry her tears and be
good, promised to do anything Kate directed if the lat
ter would only say fhat there was no other way out of
slavery.
When she was quieted Kate admonished her to be
careful not to even talk above an ordinary tone, say
ing: "If some one was to hear you, they d tell her
and I d never see you again until they d given you the
cure/ Now don t say a word," as Estella started to
interrupt. "You sit down in that chair and let me put
you next to the way Fagtan there, it s out. But don t
you ever breathe that name until you hear some one
else use it. Pagan s her name, and all the other names
like Mrs. Collins is only used to fool the folks that
might look for the girls fhey rope in. Don t you ever
squeal on me, or they d kill me."
"I won t, Kate, I promise that whatever they may
do to me I won t tell them anything you say to me,
142
THEY S ONLY ONE WAY 143
Bu t won t you tell me just what that awful woman has
done to other girls ? Then I will know the worst, and
and "
"There, there, girl, don t go off into no more cryin
spells again, or our jig s up. It isn t so bad, and it
won t be bad at all if you ll only do as I want you to ;
and who knows, when you have friends and lots of
money maybe you might help me to git away, too."
"Oh, I will! I will! God knows I will!" the girl
protested.
Kate smiled, and into her heart there crept a long
ing she had thought dead years before she met Estella
Davis. With a sigh she resumed the conversation.
"I best hurry and tell you about this crib, then,
an how I am in hopes of getting you out." Then,
thinking of the untasted breakfast on the tray, she add
ed hastily. "But first you eat your breakfast I d most
forgot that. Then I ll come up -t* git the things and
put you wise."
"I would rather talk to you than to eat," Estella in
sisted.
"But I can t stay long at a time; they s spies on
every floor; you eat now, and when I come back I ll
tell you in a jiffy."
As Estella ate a light breakfast, s he told herself
that the stolid-faced, red-headed drudge was honest in
her friendship and offer of help, and if it was as Kate
had said, a case of choosing not her own way but a path
that promised freedom in the end well, she would
listen to the argument. For one thing she was done
with crying. She would show even "Red" Kate that
there was something of courage in her make-up.
When Kate returned she closed the door and locked
it, saying: "Now, Miss, Pagan s gone, but she may
be back any minute, so I ve got to hump myself and
put you next. This joint is said to be one of the worst
in town, anyway the men that comes here says it s the
limit. Fagan runs three or four places, but this one is
the only place where they bring young girls, and they
come regular you know how they git them, I don t.
"You re the first one in two years that hasn t jist
literally raised all kinds of hell I beg your pardon
but they sure did. They screamed, tore their hair,
144 MILLS OF MAMMON
wouldn t eat, and then mostly went into the sulks.
First off they wouldn t eat, and done a lot of prayin .
Some of them killed their " the narrator hesitated.
"Killed themselves here! Here in this room?" Es-
tella s shuddering and nervous look around, alarmed
Kate.
"Land sakes, girl, you haven t got nothing to be
afraid of," she declared stoutly, "if them poor little
critters ever does come back, as some says, it won t
be to this hell-hole and besides, they didn t kill their-
selves in here no way."
"How many, Kate, and where did they do it?" Es-
tella clung to Kate s arm, wild-eyed with horror of it all.
"Three."
"Three, Kate?"
"Yes, three killed theirselves where we used to keep
em, since I come here two years ago. And one big
blonde girl, after Fagan thought she had give in, kill
ed a man Fagan sent to her. No, it wasn t on this
floor, you don t need to look around like that. It was
on the floor below. You see the girl had gone all the
stages from prayin to fighting, until after she s been
well starved, then she told Fagan she d put on the dress
and go down, and at that she laughed and said she
wanted a good dinner first. She got the dinner, and
I give her a barh and fixed her out in the regulation
togs and sent her down. I remember jist as well as
if it was yesterday. Fagan stood at the foot of the
stairs waitin for her, a smiling as hard as she could,
for the girl was a good looker and Fagan thought she
was going to make a good bunch of money off her.
The girl went up and throwed her arms around Fagan
and kissed her and asked where the bridegroom was.
Fagan says something low to her, lookin mighty queer
out of her eyes, and sent the girl into the back parlor.
Then Fagan went to the front parlor where this man
was. He came out and she pointed out the back parlor
door. He was a good lookin chap I thought he looked
as if he d strayed in from the farm. He went down
the hall, me watching from the head of the stairs. He
stopped jist a minute, then opened the door and went
in." Kate shuddered.
"And then "
THEY S ONLY ONE WAY 145
And then I heard such a scream, and three blows,
thud, thud, thud, and a moan. I don t know how I got
downstairs, but I was down and right behind Fagan
when she ran into the room. Then, before you could
think, that crazy girl struck Fagan on the head with the
bronze figure she had killed the man with, an* Fagan
fell in a heap. The girl jumped back and thro wed that
thing all covered with blood at us w*ho stood trembling
in the door, and laughed fit to kill. The next minute
she was on her knees stroking the man s hair, and say
ing all kinds of things to him. Just then Gus, that s
the bartender, come up and taking her by the arm he
lifts her up and tells her there s a lady and gentleman
to see her, waiting in a carriage at the door, and asks
won t she let him escort her down she got up laughing
and clapping her hands I ain t seen her since."
"And the man, was he dead ?"
"Yes, they made me wash the blood up while he
was laying there I know he was dead they took him
away in the night, like they does all the rest. And
Fagan, her hair saved her; but lord, she had a splittin
headache for days after they brought her out of it.
"Oh, this horrible, horrible house !" The girl walk
ed the length of the room wringing her hands and mur
muring a prayer for the green fields of home, now
seemingly in another world. "Oh, Kate! how -can I
get away from it? How can I?" she cried.
"There s only one way," came the answer.
CHAPTER XXL
NORMA JORDAN.
The morning after Madame Vaughn s visit to Pa
gan s street place, when she had examined Estella
as closely as the average slave trader was wont to ex
amine his purchase of black humanity, Estella awoke
in a strange new world.
The bright flood of sunlight that a girl in spotless
cap and apron let in through the great east window
blinded her for a moment. Where was she ? What had
happened? Could it be a dream, this beautiful room.
Never in all her castles in Spain had there been just
such a room it could not be a dream. She let her eyes
wander over the walls hung with beautiful pictures, to
the splendid rug upon the floor, then to the great win
dow again, then up to the penciled ceiling and back to
the bed. Burying her face in the downy softness of the
snowy pillow she lay for a time trying to connect this
morning with the past. How had she been delivered
from the house of horrors and that awful woman. Peep
ing out she sought the figure of the girl to assure her
self that it was all real. Compared to that loathsome
place where she had slept only when weariness of mind
and body had overcome her repugnance for the un
clean bed upon which she must lie or choose a more
filthy floor, this was heaven. But was she alive? Sit
ting up quickly she discovered that the nightgown she
wore was in itself a treasure, loaded with real lace and
ribbons, but cut so low that she blushed and drew it
more closely about her shapely shoulders as she caught
the eyes of the maid upon her.
"Where am I" she asked.
"In your own room, Miss Jordan, and Madame
Vaughn asked me to tell her the moment you awoke, so
if you will excuse me " the girl was gone.
"Miss Jordan; I wonder what she meant. What in
146
NORMA JORDAN 147
the world could have happened to twist her face up in
that way? She looks like a fright, but her voice is
sweet, and her smiles break through. I do wonder what
can have happened to her." Lying back among fhe
pillows, her hands clasped behind her head, Estella .gave
herself up to the puzzle of it all. "How did they bring
me here, and when?" she asked of the great brass bed.
"Was if yesterday, or the day before? Let me see, I
went to Pagan s room the night Madame Vaughn was
there, they sent me away with Kate, then after Madame
had left Pagan called me and gave me a cup of tea and
yes, they must have drugged me. I remember just as
well, Kate whispered to me as she helped me undress,
good-by, don t forget me/ and I felt so queer."
"Good morning, Miss Jordan, I hope you enjoyed
your night s rest?" Madame stood in the doorway,
playfully shaking a finger at the wondering girl. "You
lazy girl," she scolded and smiled as she entered the
room, "it s almost noon and you haven t gotten the
sleep out of your pretty eyes."
Estella looked at the woman wonderingly. Could it
be possible that this smiling lady, clad in the very neatest
of house gowns, looking at her as her own -mother used
to, and in this beautiful room could it be possible that
she was bad? A blus h answered her thought.
"Do you like your room, Miss Jordan?"
The girl s eyes had a frightened look in them as she
asked : "What did you call -me ?"
"Oh, just a pet name I have found for you while you
stay with me Norma Jordan don t you think it s a
nice name ?" Madame sat on the edge of the bed.
"Am I not to have my own name?"
"Child, you couldn t have your own name, don t you
understand? Some day you may want your name again
and the only way to keep it is to forget it now."
Estella played with the lace upon her sleeves while
she sat thinking of the part Kate had assigned her, and
the woman looking at her guessed half the truth, but
withal was satisfied with her bargain.
"Why did Pagan I mean Mrs. Collins drug me?"
was her first question, once she had determined upon her
attitude toward her new keeper.
148 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Where did you get that name?" Madame asked
sharply.
"Oh, I wasn t always crying at Mrs. at Pagan s," she
replied, "you see there were lots of things to be heard
after I got downstairs," with a wry little mouth that
ended in an attempted smile, she looked into Madame s
eyes, saying: "Suppose I do know her, what does it
matter so long as I am Norma Norma what was it?"
"Norma Jordan."
"Oh, yes ; it is a pretty name, and now that I am here
in this beautiful room, I suppose I ought to thank both
you and Fagan for having brought me here without my
being put to the inconvenience of doing more than to
drink a cup of tea for all the world like the Arabian
Nights tales, is it not?"
Madame laughed, but did not reply to the question.
"If my new boarder is to have breakfast today it is
time she were up; and besides, I have some gowns in
the closet over there, which I had thought to loan you
until you can take money enough out of your stocking
to buy a new "
"What do you " Estella almost added, "mean by
money out of my stocking?" but checked herself, and
after a painful pause asked: "Didn t they send my
clothes and money? Fagan promised me she would
give all my things back."
"Not on your life!" the Madame exclaimed, and
went on : "While we are on that subject I might just as
well tell you that we have to protect ourselves, and for
that reason you will probably never see a stitch of the
clothes or anything else you brought to the city with you,
but you need not worry," she added kindly, "you won t
want for anything as long as you board with me."
"Thanks," the new Miss Jordan murmured in a low
voice, "I believe I will get up now."
"Very well," Madame went to the doorway and
called the maid, saying to the new boarder, "the girl will
help you dress, and you will find all you need in the
wardrobe in that closet, if they need altering the girl can
do that too. Tomorrow will be time enough for us to
talk business ; good morning."
The owner of a new name sat on the edge of the bed
seriously regarding the ends of her pink toes, and repeat-
NORMA JORDAN 149
ing over and over : "Tomorrow we will talk business,
tomorrow we will talk business," when a timid knock
sounded through the room and brought her back to the
present moment and its immediate problems.
"Come in," she invited the invisible one, as in fas
cination she centered her gaze upon the opening door.
Would it be that strange girl ? Yes, it was she. Norma
Jordan s eyes dropped under the eager look of the girl.
Future perils could not entirely destroy the pleasure
Norma Jordan found in trying on the gowns the maid
brought from the wardrobe, once breakfast had been dis
posed of. The maid was an artist and seemed to lose
herself and all memory of the past as she fitted Norma
out with all the good things that had been allotted to her.
"Myrt s clothes seem to have been made for you,"
she told Norma while they were working on a beauti
ful evening gown, preparatory to Norma s trying it on.
"And who s Myrt?"
The girl looked at Norma long and earnestly, won
dering if she dared tell the new boarder the truth. Her
scrutiny convinced her that it would be dangerous. The
girl before her might be a hardened sinner, but if stie
was, her face, her modesty, her every movement, pro
claimed the very opposite.
"Who is Myrt ?" the question was repeated.
"Oh," the maid answered, "she was one of us up to
up to a week ago, then she went away with her brother
and and left left these clothes and things for for
oh, my God ! my God !" Sobbing as though her heart
would break, she fell at Norma s feet.
"What is it, May," on her knees beside the weeping
girl Norma begged her to tell what sorrow was upon
her. "Tell me," she pleaded, "I have grown old enough
in one week to be trusted, tell me." Her pleading availed
not until the storm had spent itself, then May told her
as much of the truth as she dared.
"It was just as I said, Norma ; she went away. Her
brother came and she went with him. I am a fool,
Norma ; and fools havo no place in this world, much less
in such a place as this. But she was so good to me, so
good and brave, and suffered so. She was here a year,
and in all that time she never uttered a cross word and
Norma, I ve never been in this room since she went
I5O MILLS OF MAMMON
away until they brought you here." She looked about
her, unspeakable terror in her eyes. "Don t tell them
I said anything about her please don t I ll do anything
for you if you will promise."
"Promise, why, you goose, of course I ll promise.
What does it matter?" she laughed, and the hard notes
that come only from the lips of those who have given
over the struggle, sounded for the first time from her
sweet lips. "It s all mystery and intrigue," she went on,
"and I am in the web. I ve sold myself for the right
to live, to eat, to breathe why should I either pry into
things the knowing of which would not help me, or with
hold a promise that will help you? No, May, you and I
are to be the very best of friends let me make up to
you for the loss of Myrt." She caught the girl in her
strong young arms and kissed her disfigured lips. "There,
and there," she exclaimed with each kiss, "now dry your
eyes, and I will get into this beautiful gown; it must
have cost hundreds and hundreds of dollars."
The girl released, staggered to a seat by the great
east window, and laying her head against the back of
the chair, sobbed in utter abandon to the heartbreak that
gripped her.
Madame Vaughn, entering, caught sight of the sob
bing girl and turned quickly to Norma, who was stand
ing in the center of the room, the evening gown in her
trembling hands. The red of anger mounted to Madame s
painted cheeks as this question thrust itself upon her :
"What had the girl told Norma?" Madame knew May s
love for the murdered girl.
"What does this mean?" she demanded, striding
toward the girl, who, at the sound of her voice, had
vainly tried to subdue her emotions.
For a moment Norma was at a loss how to save her
maid from Madame s anger. Madame had reached the
huddled figure, her hand outstretched.
"Let her alone," Norma s lips again gave forth that
metallic note of laughter. As the Madame turned to her,
she explained: "It s my fault she s crying I scolded
her because she was awkward with my clothes." De
liberately walking to the chair, she shook the sobbing
girl saying: "Come, you little goose, you ve cried quite
enough over nothing, now help me into this gown."
NORM A JORDAN 15!
The Madame, smiling, turned to leave the room, when
Norm-a called to her from within the folds of the gown,
"Wait a minute, Madame Vaughn, I want you to see me
in this gown."
"A perfect picture!" Madame exclaimed, as Norma
stood before her in all the bravery of Myrt s dress.
"You ll have no one but yourself to blame," she added,
"if you don t have a wad as big as my arm inside of a
year," Norma blushed and looked away, "and that
blush," Madame declared, "is worth a million. I never
had but one girl here who could blush like that, and do
it to order; she s in Paris now in a mansion, with I
don t know how many servants, and only one old mil
lionaire to please, unless," she added, laughing, "she
wants to please herself."
Madame patted the blushing Norma on the cheek,
and whispered : "You will have my other boarders
crazy with jealousy, Norma and if there is anything
they have that you want, just look at it; you won t have
to whistle to it, or even crook your finger." Then, with
out so much as a look in the direction of May, she quitted
the room.
"You are an angel, Norma ! an angel !" the maid in
sisted as soon as Madame was out of the room. "Yes
you are," she affirmed as Norma denied the insinuation.
May stood looking into the brown eyes of her mistress,
her poor disfigured face working strangely. "You are
an angel," she insisted, "you kissed me, and lied to save
me from Madame s anger and she can be so cruel," she
added with a shudder.
Norma looked at the girl, yet did not see her. Won
dering what tragedy lay behind that face ; what poverty
of love she must have suffered in her life to prize so
highly a girl s kiss. Dare she ask? No. Not now at
any rate. She would not burden the sore-hearted girl
with a single question, instead she took her in her arms
again and kissed her, while their tears mingled and each
knew without words the heart of the other.
When May had left the room and gone about the
work she had neglected while preparing this new sacri
fice for the altar of lust, her heart was rent with con
flictshe, the drudge at Madame Vaughn s, as "Red"
Kate was at Pagan s, had found a friend, and she be-
152 MILLS OF MAMMON
lieved that friend as pure and sweet as the dew new fal
len upon the rose. Her heart bled for the girl in that
beautiful room upstairs "bled for her, but to what avail ?
What power had she to reach up with her prayers to
either man-made gods, or God-made men?
In her luxurious room Norma Jordan surveyed her
self in the mirror. "So you are Norma Jordan are you?
she asked the girl in the glass. "Not long ago you were
some other body." Slowly, as she looked at the beau
tiful gown, terror crept upon her. Turning from the mir
ror, she fled to the bed ; there upon her knees she sobbed
out a prayer for help.
In her hour of agony, the very clothing upon her
body, the vain trappings she had fondled but a little
time before, became hateful to her. Wildly she ran about
the gilded cage. Searching in every Corner of the ward
robe, bath, and the great room itself, the girl sought
something with which to clothe herself aside from the
things Madame had provided, the shimmering, clinging
garments of dishonor. Even the clothes she had worn
when taken from Pagan s had been removed and she was
left with nothing other than the wardrobe furnished by
tihe house. Heartsick with the sense of her shame, her
helplessness, she cried out that God would forgive her
if she refused to live.
CHAPTER XXII.
MADAME TALKS BUSINESS.
Madame went up to talk "business" to her new
boarder. Norma was low spirited, but she determined
that her bravery, to the last shred, should serve her
where tears were in vain. Madame had talked long be
fore she had come to the meat of her visit.
"One of our best young men (how she lingered over
the title) called me over the phone this morning from his
club, and wanted to know whether we could entertain
him tonight. He s of good family and a great spender.
I am going to give him to you. You don t need to be
afraid to ask him for anything you want if you please
him, and I don t see how you can help doing that he ll
go the limit." Her eyes devoured the beauty of the girl
before her greedily. Here was promise of much gain
that superb body, those great brown eyes, that sweet
warm skin with its new bloom of womanhood. Madame
would put no heavy task upon this fresh young beauty.
If she but pleased this millionaire s son there would be
enough of gain. While Madame feasted upon antici
pated profits, the girl s thoughts centered in this young
man of good family. Could she play her part until they
were alone, then throw herself on his mercy, and in the
name of womanhood and innocence, induce him to give
her back to her people. It is the only way, the only way,
her conscience told her, while her lips formed the words :
"Is he really of good family?"
"The best ever, swell people, and only two children ;
this young man and a sister."
So he had a sister; that was well; s he would have
another hold upon him ; a strong hold upon his manhood.
"When is he coming ?" Norma questioned, her heart beats
almost choking her.
"Tonight at 9 o clock. You will meet him in the
parlor w hat follows is in your own hands." Norma
153
154 MILLS OF MAMMON
offered up a prayer that this might be true. "I ll send
May up for you when he comes/ Madame announced
from the door as she departed.
Norma Jordan stood at the great east window while
the sun built fires in a thousand windows in the east.
Her heart sobbed but tears did not come to dim the
strange luster of her eyes, as she prayed for strength to
overcome this man. Could s he have know how every
weapon she held would but add zest to the oncoming
enemy s struggle to possess her, she would have fallen
there as the sun went down into the great west.
Laughter and song are at their height in the parlors
of the old red brick mansion as the son of a good fam
ily is ushered in.
Before he came there were three men in faultless
dress enjoying the society of Madame s daughters in the
parlors. I shall give you an introduction.
Here, a man of forty, showing bald upon the crown,
holds a painted beauty upon his knee and kisses her
while trying to mimic the antics of the young who are
fast held by chains they do not care to break, in the
lurid land of puppy love. The woman older than her
girlish garb and labored over cheeks by full ten years,
feeds this esteemed father s infatuation by every trick
learned in the seduction of real youth and wins.
Upon a great, fat davenport in that arched corner,
a mere boy sits, half hidden by the voluptuous being who
has set herself the task of sucking the youth and sweet
ness out of his life.
This youth has not passed his eighteenth birthday;
his fond parents imagine he is at the Eagle Club, ming
ling with our men of affairs, and there imbibing a lik
ing for the steady grind of business life from the men of
means whose names grace the register of the Eagle. In
stead, he has learned to drain his glass with a toper for
a running mate; to take a quiet hand with card sharp
as guide, to play the ponies under advice from a well
groomed piker; to look upon woman as fair game, with
an instructor at his elbow who gains half his income from
those who profit from the downfall of our gilded youth.
Here is a sample product of the Eagle. This boy,
born to the purple of wealth, with all the world may
give of opportunity, is to be robbed tonight of the one
MADAME TALKS BUSINESS 155
thing neither wealth nor prayer may restore to him;
and all because the woman was first robbed. What dif
ference whether you looted her treasure of its priceless
jewels yesterday, last year, or years ago? She will re
pay society to-night you shall have a stench of filth,
decay, disease, and death so long as the first crime com
mitted against this woman goes unavenged.
In her room but a moment ago this piece of Eve s
flesh, standing before her dressing-table, laying on the
bloom of youth to hide the scars of dissipation, turned
to the girl who sat idly watching her.
"Aggie," said she, "Little Willie is here again
Madame just sent word before you came in." Her pout
ing lips drew back from the even white teeth in a snarl,
as she continued : "I ll get him to-night or "
"Better turn him over to me, Helen," the other ban
tered, "I never had to work my rabbit foot overtime
on a kid yet, and you ve been a month trying to get
your Little Willie upstairs."
"Don t you worry; he comes to-night if I have to
carry him !" the other replied.
Well, he s a payer all right, all right," the visitor
giggled. "When he slipped that fifty into your sock
the other night I thought I d have a spasm he blushed
and stammered like a school kid. Say, either he s the
limit or you ve lost your grip. You ve had him a month
and haven t been able to cure him of blushing."
"Cut all that, Ag. I land him to-night, I tell you ! I
haven t lost my grip. I could have had him up here
the first night if Madame hadn t cautioned me to go
slow and draw him on gradually. When you know as
much about this game as Madame does, you will not
judge the stakes until the last hand is played out. When
this kid came out here the first time he was straight
from his mother s arms; never had done more than put
his arms around some nice little girl and tickle him
self to death with a hug." Aggie laughed, and this in
structor of youth smiled at her own wit. "Jiggs sent
word to Madame that he had landed this kid that he
was good enough to eat, and for us to cut out all horse
play until we got him good and hungry."
"Think he s hungry to-night?" Aggie asked.
"Bet your last coin. What have I been doing for a
156 MILLS OF MAMMON
month? Just as nice, and getting a little bit freer each
time and money! Say, that kid William of mine don t
know the value of a million dollars! He s put up close
to three hundred bucks in the last month just to be
tickled."
Her toilet finished, all that art and nature might do
to take away man s reason and leave him a doddering
idiot in the grasp of this wanton of the under world
had been accomplished.
"For God s sake let up," Aggie shrieked, "you make
me tired and Little Willie will be crying his eyes out.
Go on down and get busy."
The woman before the mirror knew the rest of
Madame s daughters and nieces envied her. None of
them dared challenge girlhood in their acting. She
alone of the six was a perfect decoy, when made up,
and she gloried in her ability to put on the vestments
of youth and lead the young into the debauchery from
which Madame so largely profited.
"You clear out. I may have him up here to look at
my photographs and fancy work in ten minutes," a
sneer upon her lips exposed again that pearly setting of
even, white teeth, "and his mother and all the rest of
them will never be able to take him away from me un
til I am done with him "
"Until Madame is done with him," the other
laughed.
Upon the fat davenport a youth has let go of him
self, and in a sudden outburst of passion, well fed for
a month, has smothered this perfumed counterfeit with
kisses and caresses. She hides her face on his bosom
and smiles in triumph, while he, poor fool, imagines her
weeping imagines himself a conqueror. Her white arms
encircle his neck ; she lifts her face a little she dare not
trust her eyes, the gleam of hell s total of rejoicing she
may not hide she whispers to him her head falls back
to its resting place a moment, and they are gone.
Hidden by a costly screen on the other side of this
wide parlor, once the gathering place of men and women
who in ignorance sowed the seed of corruption in our
social state, a woman sits at the piano. At her side
MADAME TALKS BUSINESS 157
stands a paunchy little man, under whose eyes the sacs
of decay bag out and hang over full cheeks.
This man holds a place in the world of business;
supports two mansions, one woman, a wife ?.nd family,
yet finds time to spend a night at Madame \ aughn s oc
casionally. Even the cub reporters on our dailies know
the unsavory history of tfhis podgy little sac-eyed gen
tleman. To expose him, and bring about his ears the
house of cards he has builded what a scoop! Then
what prevents?
The great hall clock ticks out the reason in its "dol
lars and cents/ "dollars and cents," "dollars and cents."
This man s son, one of the young princes of our rot
ting aristocracy of, dollars, was shot in a resort, the
counterpart of Madame s old red brick mansion, but a
few months ago. The newspapers of our city knew
the story knew that this young man, wounded fatally,
was wrapped in a blanket, carried to a cab and taken to
the place the world knew as his home. Wife and child
saw him die ; a truthful press agent of virtue defend
er of the American home suppressed the truth, giving
the world a story of accidental shooting, a story so ab
surd that even the ignorant complained of its unreason
ableness. Why? Why? Why? You ask and ask
again, and again the hall clock answers: "Dollars and
cents," "dollars and cents," "dollars and cents."
The woman idly drumming upon the ivory keys
while this podgy citizen devours her with his sac-bal
conied eyes, deserves a word.
Of regal height and well preserved, to look upon her
without looking deep into her eyes is to miss -the wom
an and see but the shell. In her eyes of changing gray
a tragedy is written, and back, back behind the curtain
present thought lets down, her tragedy lives and feeds,
and grows and rends. Just now she has lifted the cur
tain ; forgetful of the man her mind is going back over
the years of sacrifice back to the sunny brooks of girl
hood, then forward again to that first mad day strug
gle, temptation, yielding; pride, passion, repentance; all
passing and repassing before the eyes of the woman idly
drumming on the ivory keys, and her heart cries out
that she may be spared the fate of the rear-guard of the
long procession of her sisters. Back there, where the
158 MILLS OF MAMMON
clouds hover, where falls the stinging lash, the weak
ones stagger along under their burdens of disease,
while from their rotting bodies pollution of the social
stream becomes more and more a danger to all. "Spare
me that !" she cries in her heart, and bends still lower
over the ivory keys, as she sees a woman in the front
rank, where wealth fawns, suddenly fall by the wayside
"Spare me that!" On either side of this broad high
way where the women of sin must take their way to
ward the land of To-morrow, her eyes behold a kneel
ing army of Christians, too pious to lift their eyes to
the struggling mass of prostituted women in the high
way. They are bowed in prayer, and heed not the cries
of pain as the lash cuts the quivering flesh. They
are content to pray, to weep a little, and greatly to con
demn, while the giant hand of greed wields the whip
lash of a hundred hungers, and the army of the fallen
staggers, cursing, mocking, gibbering, to its doom.
All of this lies back of this woman s eyes. The man
beside her asks for a song, and as she bends to seek
the music, his puffed and stubby fingers fall upon her
neck; she shrinks from the contact; then remembering
her part, braces her body and turns her head to smile
the hand passes down, down over her shoulder and is
hidden. The music is found, she straightens up, the
man steps back. Touching a bell upon an onyx stand he
waits. The woman begins the interlude, smiling so
sweetly at him that her mastery of the art seems per
fect.
Be careful there. You of the many millions, with
wealth and slaves and playthings. This woman may
go mad, stark, staring mad, to-night to-morrow. Her
racked body and tortured nerves, the tragedy of her
life, this vision of your praying multitudes calling to a
faraway God as they line the great highway and listen
to the fall of the lash all of these have combined to
plant madness in her blood. To-night she may take your
life, as your son s life was taken, by one like her. Be
ware!
The song ends the singer swings upon the stool
the podgy man of millions claps his puffy hands and
cries "Brava ! brava ! That WLS a corker ! Give us
another, sweetheart."
MADAME TALKS BUSINESS 159
Behind him a boy of twelve did I say a boy of
twelve? Yes, a boy of twelve years, crammed with
crime enough to contaminate the keeper of heaven s
gate, stands waiting.
"Oh, the bellhop." Slowly this man draws a roll of
bills from a vest pocket. "I counted em, my charmer,"
he snickers, tapping the woman on the cheek with
the roll. Unfolding the bills he lays one upon the tray.
"Tell Madame to give me a call at 8:30, and take up
a basket of the same I had last time to "
"He knows," the woman nodded and turns to the
piano.
In a cozy corner, beneath an iron-girted lamp, cast
ing soft lights on a table at which sits a man ill at ease
and a woman struggling to hide her passion, another
tragedy is working out. In setting our stage let us see
what part is here in the playing.
At the Eagle Club, two hours ago, Jack Masters
met his friend and begged him to go out to Madame
Vaughn s and explain to Emma the reasons back of
his neglect for a week past. This man at the table de
murred, protested, explained, proposed a compromise,
but finally yielded because he was a friend indeed.
As he sits looking into the eyes of the woman, he
knows why Jack found so many excuses for not want
ing to see her, yet insisted that some one must see her
forthwith.
Beautiful, with that strange dark beauty of the Old
South a skin full of fire eyes that burn, and melt,
and burn again lips as ripe as cherries, and as red
wide, arching brows supporting a broad forehead
crowned with a wealth of glorious black hair and this
but half the picture. From the tips of her pink lobed
ears to the laces that but half hide her swelling breasts,
the smooth soft skin covers a perfection of curves. Her
eyes to-night are more than black. Metallic points of
light play in their depths. She scorns the man who
seeks to tell of a lover s unfaith. And he reads in those
eyes more than warrant for his instant death did this
queenly beauty but hold the power.
"To send a stranger to me! To insult me so! Oh,
I6O MILLS OF MAMMON
I will not bear it! I will not! I will not!" Her voice
is low, so low, but the man is not deceived.
"But he just didn t dare to come Miss Miss "
"Emma," she whispered.
"Miss Emma," he couldn t come because "
"He preferred to send a stranger," she interrupted,
scornfully; "and it is all of a week since he has been
here ; already Madame is asking "
"Oh, that s all right," the man assured her; "here s
an even hundred Jack sent out;" he laid the money on
the table before her.
"Take it to him ; I cannot touch " her head fell.
What choice had she? If she would be true to this
man she must take his money; Madame must be paid.
"Oh, God !" she protested while thrusting the money
into her bosom. The man in pitying her began to de
spise the friend who had sent him on this mission.
"Why did he send you, a man I had never seen?"
she demanded. "Does he look upon me as a woman of
the town?" The man winced, but decided that the only
way out was for him to put up the best story he could
and God pity Jack when they meet again.
"Oh, no, not that, I assure you. He s in a beastly
hole you see his father saw you two last week, and put
a detective on the scent after Jack had lied like a thief
to shield you."
"To shield me." She clinched her hands until the
tips of her fingers went white. "Go on. So long as I
have let you begin, you may as well make an end of
it."
"Well, he put the detective on the scent as I said.
He shadowed you and reported. The old man cornered
Jack and brought the detective out to confront him.
Jack confessed, and and the old man gave him the
choice of throwing you over or being kicked out with
out a cent "
"And he has decided?" The woman stood over him
her eyes ablaze. "He has decided to throw me over and
save the dollars?" Her hand upon his arm made him
wince.
"No," he hesitated. "No, not that ; but so long as
liis father has a man hired to watch him it would be
suicidal for him to break his word."
MADAME TALKS BUSINESS l6l
"Break his word? Oh, God! He break his word!"
She turned away from him to hide the agony of shame
that tortured her. Standing thus she asked:
"Sir, do you know when he first learned to lie to
break his word do you know when he committed a
crime for which, if there be a God, he will surely die?
Do you?"
Jack s friend choked; his throat refused its office
he struggled to find words and was silent.
The woman looked down upon him. "I thought I
hated you when you came to me, but I did not know
what hate meant then. Listen. Jack Masters came into
my life two years ago. It took him a year and a half
to win my love. Having that, he labored three months
to get me to consent to come to this city. He swore
he could not live without me. We would be quietly
married and live away from the world until his folks
were convinced that he would not marry a woman who
had money but whom he professed to despise. After
months of entreaty on his part, I yielded this much; I
would follow him to this .city, and when he had con
vinced me that he would risk so much I would marry
him, and hide from his family for a time "
The man looked up, dark anger kindling in his eyes.
"He left me in my quiet Southern home to dream
of a great love in a new home, and I swear to you, tho
you are but a stranger thrust into my life, I was as in
nocent as any woman who ever went to the altar when I
came to this city three months ago. We were mar
ried " the words were scarcely audible.
"Married!" he cried. "Why, he told me "
"Yes," her lips trembled, but a devil danced in her
black eyes "what did he tell you?"
"The hound told me he picked you up at the races
somewhere and your beastly temper " he blurted
out then paused.
"That will do" she spoke quietly. "Now listen to
me, Mr. Mr. "
"James Meyers."
"Listen to me, Mr. Meyers; that man married me.
Those who assisted in the ceremony may have been
as false as he, but I believed. We lived at a hotel a
short time, then he brought me here, to a fashionable
1 62 MILLS OF MAMMON"
boarding house as he said. Oh, what a farce ! What
a farce! And I, poor fool, lived here for weeks in igno
rance of the nature of the fashionable boarders social
standing. Lived to myself, and for his love and in the
end this infamy is put upon me. Tell him this friend
of yours that I shall pay Madame what I owe her and
immediately leave this house. Once outside its walls his
life is not safe! tell him this. Tell your friend has he
ever done a like act of kindness for you? Tell him I
shall live to laugh at him when his last hope of forgive
ness has faded if there is a God, I will."
"I am not his friend. Damn him ! I could kill
him!" the man cried as the beauty of the woman, her
misery, her power to hate, rilled him. "I could kill the
cur !" His teeth came together over the words.
"Do it ! Do it ! Only half kill him ! Mark him for
life! Maim him " She was on her knees by his
side, clinging to him. "Do this; then come back to me
for your reward ask anything, everything! Oh, God!
If you would but do this for me!" Spent, she sank to
the floor.
Our stage is set. Each piece of property in place.
Joel Holdon enters the doorway, and Madame sends
May up the grand stairway to summon Norma to the
feast.
CHAPTER XXIII.
ARE YOU READY?
Norma Jordan looked toward the door as she turned
from the mirror. "Yes," she answered, as May took her
hand and lifted it to the twisted lips. "Yes," she re
peated, as one in a dream, and followed the maid.
On the stairs, as she hesitated upon the landing, she
could hear the great clock ticking "Dollars and cents,"
"dollars and cents," "dollars and cents." As she de
scended a prayer went up from both May and herself
to a God they believed to be all-powerful to save, both
here and hereafter.
May led her to the parlor, whispering: "He s in
the parlor now he used to come when Myrt was was
here. God bless you, Norma, God bless you !" Gently
she pushed the girl between the beautiful silken hang
ings, and fled that she might not know the next act in
this tragedy.
After one quick look around the walls adorned with
pictures of naked women, and riots of debauchery, her
eyes in startled terror fled to the faces of the three wom
en and four men in the room. Yes, the women have
heard of her the new beauty. Wildly the girl looked
from face to face, as a Christian maiden in Nero s time
may well have looked into the eyes of the beasts whose
claws and teeth were soon to tear her shrinking, quiv
ering flesh. Not a line of sympathy marked the faces
of these men and women as they gazed upon the cower
ing girl, standing at bay, her back against the pillar
supporting the arch spanning the entrance.
The three women looked upon her beauty and dread
ed it. Her competition was to be feared. The four
men looked upon her from eyes behind which a thousand
generations of men have handed down to this age, with
its white enamel of Christian professions, the law of
the jungle, touching women.
163
164 MILLS OF MAMMON
Look at this sweet, white blossom of womanhood.
Come with me, all ye who pray who call upon the
name of God.
Come with me to Madame Vaughn s old red brick
mansion, gray stone trimmed.
Stand there; under that picture.
No, my Puritan, lift your eyes ! Look upon this
daughter of a Christian land by her mother named
Estella. To-night a second baptism is to be hers in
the fires of a more than hell they will christen her
Norma Jordan.
Look! Her head has fallen upon her breast! As
she stands with clinched hands before her, her finger
nails are eating into the pink of her skin to taste the
sweet young blood before these wantons, these hellions
of your greed-crazed age, shall suck it up drop by drop.
Each curve and swelling beauty of this, God s gift
to earth, was designed to stir the appetite of a regal
love. To bless a world. To hallow motherhood. These
deep dyed blushes that come and go, over half concealed
breasts that rise and fall as the head bends lower and
lower these are but the heralds of the coming fullness
of womanhood and here, wolves, human wolves, de
vour this beauty, and feast their eyes upon her flesh
alone.
Call out to your God, O Christian! Call, and call
yet again. That such things should stand, that this
should be a part of the marketing, the profit-taking of
our time.
But see! She totters. She sinks to the floor, and
in her yielding limbs a thousand generations of outraged
womanhood cry out for vengeance.
Joel Holdon sprang to his feet as Norma fell, and
from one side looked up at a girl with bleached, straw-
colored hair. "She s ill," he ventured, and the girl,
laughing, replied:
"Come off. She s stringing you !"
At that moment Madame entered. Hastily surveying
her boarders and their startled guests, she fell upon her
knees beside Norma, and attempted to revive her. Look
ing up at Joel, who had asked, "Is this the girl?" she
answered "Yes" and called for wine.
The wine, supplemented by Madame s efforts, soon
and here, wolves, human wolves, devour this beauty, and feast their eyes
upon her flesh alone." Page 164.
ARE YOU READY? 165
brought the girl to consciousness of her surroundings.
Her first glance at Madame s face told her more plainly
than words that her keeper was angry; that she must
control herself and play the game to the limit she had
set. The only thing between her and dishonor was the
integrity of a man and he must be put to the test.
"What was it, Norma?" The question was sweetly
spoken, but Norma saw the Madame s eyes.
"I I don t know," she faltered; then gathering her
will, went on: "It won t happen again, I assure you."
Madame left the room as Joel took the girl by the
arm and led her to the great fat davenport where but
a short while ago a boy was destroyed.
Once more the interrupted revel is under way. The
girl with the bleached straw hair has been called to the
piano. The podgy millionaire and his mate of the tragic
eyes are gone; so, too, the dark beauty lured from the
Southland. But six remain. Joel, son of a mother
whose life was one long prayer for him; whose sister
has opened the floodgates of her heart night after night
for him, sits upon the davenport beside the woman who
is to prove him. His arm is about her waist, yet
she dare not reprove him. He has captured her hands
and, bending over her, his hot breath upon her, he de
mands a kiss as forfeit for the scare she gave him.
He has a right to ask this in this place he need but
ask and all must be given as she realizes this her blood
runs riot through her body, her senses swim she lifts
her beautiful face in pleading.
Her big, brown eyes with drooping lashes half hid
ing them, her blushes, her heaving bosom, all combin
ing to make her ravishingly tempting, send the hungry
jackals of passion leaping through his poisoned veins in
wild clamor for their prey. Again and again his hungry
lips devour the nectar of innocence. Norma hides her
face, a shuddering fear filling her soul. Can she hold out
against this man? Already the pain is half sweet. She
must! She must! so she tells herself, and admits that
If she is to last out the struggle against those burning
eyes, those arms, those lips, those hands, the test must
soon be had.
The girl at the piano swung around on the stool just
in time to see Joel s last kiss, and the drooping head
l66 MILLS OF MAMMON
with its glory of brown hair into which the lights threw
rays of burnished copper. Her lips are curled in scorn.
"He s a fool, and his new beauty is a simpering sissy.
Just look at her playing the schoolgirl-come-on, and his
being taken in by it. Well, I ll just put an end to this
country spooning," she tells her lover, and asks aloud:
"Does Miss Jordan play?"
Joel repeated the question, and at Norma s almost in
audible answer arises and offers his arm.
"What shall it be?" Her eyes were lifted for a
moment to the wall above that instrument of grand pos
sibilities; the picture hanging there, seen at a glance,
sends her eyes back to the ivory keys. Joel Holdon, son
of what we denominate a Christian home, who to-night
in a new baptism takes the name of James Y. Johnson,
bends over the girl.
"Give us anything and you won t miss it," he whis
pers.
Slowly her fingers wander over the keys. She sits
at home. Her first lover, a boy who went to school with
her, stands at her side. Just behind in the dim light of
the little home nest sit her mother and sister. Mechani
cally her mind directs her fingers to the old melodies;
homely songs of a buried past; a time before our Chris
tian homes were filled with songs from red-light dis
tricts set to ragtime. Still she is seeking something;
the melodies she has found run through a few bars and
die away she has found it!
The grand piano responds; it quivers, and vibrates.
The slave has lifted her eyes. No more that horrid
picture; in its stead a picture not of pigments on can
vas, but a spirit picture born of the torture of the hour,
fills up the massive gilt frame above the piano.
All other sound in this parlor where Bacchus revels
with drunken earth clods is stilled as a clear young voice
rises and falls in unearthly sweetness and appeal.
"Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee," the
words swell grandly forth.
Joel clutched the side of the piano: "What sort of
a song is this for such a place?" he asks himself.
Over yonder where the dark-eyed woman sat so
short a time ago and offered a stranger all she could
ARE YOU READY? 167
possibly give, the girl with bleached hair now sits, her
face buried in her hands.
A hard-visaged woman who has been discussing a
"dope sheet" with her companion, sits staring at the
girl as she ends the first stanza of the hymn. In a
bound she reaches the piano before the second stanza
is reached:
"What th hell s th matter with you? Think this s
a gospel shop?" she demands, roughly shaking the girl.
"Let her alone, Madge, a little of it won t hurt"
Joel begins.
"Let her alone nothin ! Look what she s doin t*
Fanny. Th fool s blubberin like a kid, and first we
know she ll be havin one of them spells."
Norma, released by the woman, slipped from the
stool, and catching Joel by the arm, said: "Do please
take me away. For God s sake take me out of this
place."
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE BETRAYAL.
When Joel led Norma from the parlor to her room
he tried to take her in his arms, but she eluded him.
For the first time since she had been in the city she
had the key to her room ; she turned the key and faced
the man. Again he attempted to take her in his arms.
"Wait, Mr. Johnson, I must tell you something,"
she panted.
"Oh, you re all right; I ll risk that."
"You don t understand." Upon her knees she lifted
her sweet young face to him, and in her outstretched
hands held up her virtue, her purity, her womanhood,
and asked him to bless it in mercy.
"I am not what you think me. I was lured here, be
trayed, deceived. Oh, Mr. Johnson, you can t know
the awful things that have been threatened you can
not know what I have suffered ! You are my one hope.
Stay here to-night. You may have my bed, I will sleep
on the floor in the bath room, anywhere. To-morrow
come back and get me ; take me out of this awful place ;
let me go home to my mother and sister. Do this for
me, and God will bless you."
He heard her out; yes, every word, and if he had
been a man of clean blood he could have given her but
one answer. But here was game well worth the chase.
He lifted her up and seated her upon a divan.
"My dear girl," he said, "don t you know that I
could not take you away to-morrow?"
"Not take me away, and why?"
"Not one of the Madame s boarders leaves here, even
for a drive, until Madame is sure they are safe."
"And this was my one hope!" the girl exclaimed.
"Unless, unless you could protect me until Madame is
satisfied !"
He had his arms about her. "My God, Norma, I
168
THE BETRAYAL 169
don t want to protect you for a month only; I want to
protect you always/
She ceased to struggle; he reached up and drew
her head down, down until he had almost touched her
lips, when, with a cry, she freed herself.
"What am I doing? What am I doing?" she wailed
as she put the length of the room between them.
"Nothing wrong, Norma, nothing wrong," he re
peated, following her. "Come back and be a sensible
little girl. Let us look this situation square in the face
and see what we can do," he urged. When he had pre
vailed upon her to be seated he said: "Now see here,
Norma, if I had come to your home and told you I
loved you, you would have listened to me, wouldn t
you?"
Remembering his lips, she whispered, "Yes."
"And after we had been engaged awhile we would
have married, and and you wouldn t talk about sleep
ing on the floor, or in the bath room, would you?"
Again his arm encircled her waist. Blushing, she hung
her head, but did not answer, and his hungry eyes
caught fire again. "Now, how about the present case?
I am sorry, of course, that Madame, or whoever it was,
trapped you; but I am glad I was the one to find you,
for I love you, I love you!" He smiled and winked at
the great brass bedstead as the girl s head was drawn
to his shoulder and lay there even when he slipped his
hand down to the whiteness of her neck. "Now, it s up
to us to make the best of things as we find them. If
I could take you home to-morrow I would be back the
day after trying to get you to marry me. I would carry
you off and marry you to-morrow, you sweetest of wom
en, so I don t see why you should ask me to wait a
month, especially as I will have to stay with you at least
half the time, if I am to hope to get you away at the
end of that time."
Norma freed herself from his embrace and tried to
read his face, his eyes. She was in desperate straits.
Was this man to be trusted? If he could give up
enough to come to her, protect her until they could
leave this place together, could she risk everything upon
a promise?
"Norma, you doubt me ;" his voice carried reproach.
I7O MILLS OF MAMMON
"You doubt me, while I, finding you here in such a place
as this, and knowing nothing of your people or your
self, tell you I love you and offer to marry you as
soon as I may safely take you away; still you doubt
me."
"Oh, my God! I don t know what to do; I don t
know what to do!" It was the cry of one tortured.
As she tottered to the great east window the man smiled,
but she saw only a serious face ; when looking around
at the sound of his voice, she heard him say:
"Norma, dear, why don t you do the thing that s
easiest, the thing that will put your whole trouble on
my shoulders. I am well-to-do for a young man; my
family are in the lumber business (he was thinking
of his father s offer of a position at one of the iron
mines) and I am able to give you a good home."
"What do you want me to do ?" she asked in an awed
whisper.
"Do ?" he repeated, going over to her. "Why, sweet
heart, I want you to marry me before God to-night,
and before men as soon as I can get you away from
Madame s without kicking up a fuss."
Norma put her hand upon his shoulder, and it was
covered in an instant by one of his. Her face as sweet,
as firm as artists paint the face of the virgin, was turned
to his.
"Mr. Johnson, I have told you my story. You say
there is no escape from this place short of a month;
that this woman must have her pound of flesh, that
you cannot help me in any other than the way you have
named?"
"I do." He is looking straight into her brown eyes.
"You tell me you love me; that you believe my
story; that, if you could take me away from this this
place to-morrow, it would be to marry me?"
"I do." His passion played a very devil s dance in
his eyes, but the girl saw only the ardor of a man who
loves.
"You know what I will be exposed to if you should
go from this room and tell Madame what I have told
you? I want you to realize that I know I am power
less, that resistance is useless, that I am ready to yield
THE BETRAYAL IJ7I
all, and now, rather than suffer as I have suffered in
anticipation of this moment/
He tried to kiss her, but she held him back.
"Wait, wait/ she pleaded. "Let me tell you all,
then you may choose, and God help you. When we
came into this room I had but one hope, and that was
that I might touch your heart. My youth, my inexperi
ence, all I was or am, this I threw at your feet. You
offered me love and marriage, when you had the right
to command my obedience to your will. If I refused
you could consign me to such torture as only a pure
woman may suffer at the hands of such men and wom
en as brought me to this place. Do you still insist that
you love me and will marry me as soon as you may
take me away?"
"Norma, I love you, and I swear I will marry you.
What more can you ask?"
The girl hears, and a beautiful face, illumined with
all of hope, sweet beyond expression, is turned to the
man, his arms reach out, and she offers her lips with
a sigh that is both renunciation and sacrifice. Yet the
beauty, purity, trust and adoration that shine in the
depths of her eyes as she seeks to fathom the eyes of
the man who, to her, is both prince and deliverer, will
haunt him, even to death.
At ten the next morning Joel entered his father s
office. To the clerk he said:
"Bill, go in and tell the governor I ve :come to see
him about that mine proposition." To himself he add
ed: "If he had the President in there, he d drop him
on that hint."
Five minutes later he and his father had come to
an agreement. The father was elated, the son well
satisfied. He would go up the next week and select a
cage in some convenient place, not too far removed
from his work, a cage in which to put the bird he had
caught in the lime last night.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHARLEY HARRIS FINDS A JOB.
"Price, what did that young fellow want?" Horace
Holdon inquired of his superintendent as he glanceH
at a young man who was slowly leaving the office.
"Oh, he has wheels," Price replied with a shrug.
"Well, he don t look it. What makes you think
so? There he s stopped on the street, uncertain which
way to go. What did you tell him ?"
"I told him to call to-morrow. He wants work;
said he d almost do it for the privilege of studying our
heavy casting work. He thinks he has something to
cheapen the cost of moulding; I didn t ask what."
"Well, he is out there still. Will you send one of
the clerks out and have him come in again? He looks
both intelligent and capable to me."
Five minutes later Charley was laying before the
Honorable Horace Holdon the future process of cast
ing iron and other metals ; he had a good listener.
When he had finished the Honorable Horace, smiling,
asked :
"Have you secured letters patent?"
"No, sir," the simple mechanic replied. "I have not
built the perfected machine; that s the only reason I
am in the city. I came here to build the machine."
"But you say you have given this machine a thor
ough trial, and have one of the castings produced, in
fact, the first one produced, if I followed you?"
"Yes, sir, a perfect casting and the only changes I
will make in the second machine will be to increase
speed, make the machine more compact and build the
flasks along new lines. As far as the working out
of the principle is concerned, that is solved, and is
perfect."
"Did you tell Mr. Price, the gentleman you talked
172
CHARLIE HARRIS FINDS A JOB 173
with a little while ago, what sort of a machine you had
in mind?"
"No, sir, I only mentioned that I was working out
a problem, and needed to get better acquainted with the
work as it is done in a large plant before going fur
ther."
"I see. Avoid mentioning anything about your
work to any one."
Holclon drummed upon his desk and did not speak
again until the mechanic said:
"I certainly am grateful for the interest you have
taken."
"Oh, that s all right, that s all right; I am willing
to admit that I am both interested and curious so much
so that I would like to see the casting you made in
your machine. Could you bring it up this afternoon?"
"Certainly; I would be pleased to," Charley replied
with pride.
"Then come up at three o clock, and you need not
look farther for work. We will take care of you and
give you every opportunity to study the business. In
fact, a letter of introduction from me will give you a
chance to inspect any plant in the city or anywhere else
you may wish to push your investigations during your
spare time."
So it was arranged that Charley should return with
his precious memento of a first victory. Greatly re
joiced in finding such a sympathetic, whole-souled, gen
erous employer, he went back to his hotel.
Mr. Holdon swung lazily in his office chair, selected
a cigar, lit it and communed with himself.
"The fool has not even filed a caveat and don t
intend to patent his machine until it is perfected. Well,
well, well; suckers are born every minute. If that ma
chine will do the work there s millions in it. And I
have a shrewd guess as to who will handle those mil
lions."
Touching a button at his elbow, a boy appeared.
"Tell Price I want to see him."
As the boy disappeared his mind went back to the
alluring possibilities of a rapidly forming scheme.
"I ve got to go about this carefully. Harris must
be kept in the dark as to the possibilities of losing his
174 MILLS OF MAMMON
rights to patent, through a leak. He evidently thinks
he must have the thing perfected before he can take
steps to protect it, and he must keep on thinking so."
"You wanted to see me?" Price inquired, his head
thrust in at the doorway. The employer answered cor
dially:
"Yes, come in. Price, that young fellow may have
wheels, but from what he told me of his experience in
foundries in smaller towns I should judge that he must
be a good workman and an all around man at that."
"Well, that s encouraging."
"Yes. Well, he may prove valuable to us in more
ways than one, and I want you to try him out. He
wants to work and look about a bit."
"But we can t stand for that. Why, man alive, he
may be one of the union s walking delegates, and by
getting the run of the works he d simply raise hell
among the men. I tell you, Mr. Holdon, we can t be
too careful. That cuss is not simple. I saw him when
he left here after his talk with you and he looked well
he looked like he had just pulled over a jack pot."
"Oh pshaw! Price. Your first little set-to with the
labor unions is still on your nerves. They were too
much for you."
"Not on your life," Price protested. "Next time I
run up against the unions they may strike and be
damned."
"Never mind, Price, never mind; let s get back to
Harris. I will guarantee that he is not a union man,
and if you handle him right, never will be. By the way,
I wish you would go down to the Dredging Company
this afternoon. Take Johnson or Kodetz, or both, and
get the work started on those patterns. They are get
ting anxious. "Say," he called after the superintendent,
"you can go down after dinner and save the extra trip
out here."
Price s only comment on the substance of the inter
view was: "I wonder what the old man s trying to get
out of that young fellow? I go down town after dinner
to save a trip out here. First time in his life that he s
thought of saving me an extra trip. I ll bet a horse
that young Harris is coming back this afternoon and
Holdon wants to keep me from getting next."
CHARLIE HARRIS FINDS A JOB , 175
"Here, you, limpy, come here !" he called to a crip
pled roustabout. As he came up Price held out a
quarter. "Need it, Crips?"
"Bet yer life, but do I git it?"
"Yes, you get it. Come with me." Outside the
gates upon the side street lay a pile of brick. "I want
you to work here from one o clock until I get back from
downtown. Stack the brick in a nice pile. There ll be
another load along in an hour or two after dinner. I
want you to watch for a young man of about twenty-
five, as tall and about the same build as myself. He
wears a brown suit, tan shoes and a light soft hat,
and "
"Oh, that s th guy stopped me dis mornin an want
ed to know wus dis de place "
"So you would know him again?"
"Couldn t miss him, boss. Say, he s new to dis life ;
talks as good why, he s de real candy. Wanted to
know how was me mudder, and asks me hav I got kid
relatives. No, I couldn t possibly miss him," Mickey
Dougherty concluded with a broad grin.
"Well, here s the money in advance. Not a whisper
to any one, but just keep your eye peeled. If he shows
up and goes into our office you keep tab on how long
he stays, and well, that s all."
Mickey s wink at the billboard across the street was
expressive. "Wonder w at th ell s on? I ain t never
looked fer Price to tip me to shadder th old man. An*
th young guy; I hopes they ain t a-goin t* do nothin
t him he s pure sugar."
Mickey s labor was not in vain. At a few minutes
to three o clock the young man in the light hat came
up the side street, carrying under his arm a parcel
wrapped in newspaper.
"Hello, youngster," was his greeting, as he halted
beside the pile of brick. "Got a light job to-day, eh?"
"Yep, considerable light an good pay," Mickey, re
plied, winking repeatedly at the brick in his hands.
"Guess I m going to work with you after a while,"
Charley volunteered as he sauntered on toward the
office.
An hour later he reappeared with his parcel neatly
wrapped in a different sort of paper, to find Mickey
176 MILLS OF MAMMON
working like a Trojan to get the few remaining bricks
corded.
Both the Honorable Horace Holdon and Charles
Harris are satisfied, and we should be. Mickey is satis
fied, for he has a second quarter to jingle against the
first since he reported to Price. Price is the only dis
satisfied member of the quartette.
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE FIRST ALARM.
"Say, Prof., they say Stella Davis ain t sent a word
home the two weeks she s been to the city," the postmas
ter announced to Professor Saunders as the latter stood
at the "General Delivery" window shortly after school
hours one Friday afternoon.
"Haven t heard from her?" the Professor ques
tioned, knitting his brows. "Why, that can t be true.
Anna told me the other day that Estella was getting
along all right."
"Well, it s against orders; but, by gum, I m a-goin
to do it, government or no government ! I tell you there
hasn t been a line come to this office in more n two
weeks facts are, they got a postal card the day after
she left, an* that she writ on th train, an if they ve
heard any more it s been telegraphed."
"That s easy found out," the Professor answered,
thoughtfully, "and as for Estella, I tell you if they
haven t heard from her there s something wrong."
He had turned to go when the postmaster said:
"No need of going over to see the operator. I saw
him just before you came in, an he says there hasn t
been no telegrams gone up to the Davis house since
some one telegraphed to Stella before she went away."
"Well, some one ought to go up and see Mrs. Davis
if that s the case."
"Just what I ve been thinkin for a week but them
wimmen are so proud, you can t tell how they d take
it. Why, Ann comes in here, looks in their box after
every mail, and just draws her lips tight an answers
those that question her and digs out but I tell you it s
wearing on her, and somethin ought to be done."
By this time a half-dozen neighbors had stopped
and were listening to the conversation.
"If it isn t too late," the Professor s voice was low,
177
1/ MILLS OF MAMMON
"I know something of the ways of the world, and if
the girl has been in the hands of some people I have
heard of, the angels of heaven couldn t save her, but,"
he turned .to those who had gathered, "not a word of
any of this until we have seen Mrs. Davis. Now, who
will go with me and get at the truth of tfhis report that
the family have not heard from her since she went to
Chicago ?"
"Oh, there s nothing to that report," a neighbor of
the Davis family spoke. "Mrs. Davis told my wife only
yesterday that Stella was well."
"Just some old woman s gabble," another announced.
But one man in the crowd edged his way to the Pro
fessor s side and whispered to him to agree with the
men it would keep the story from spreading. He
added that as soon as they could get away without being
observed he would accompany the teacher to the Davis
home.
Thus it fell out that the two women, while sorrow
fully preparing the evening meal, were surprised by
the advent of visitors each of whom had more than
a passing interest in the family, as will shortly develop.
"Good evening, Henry, and you, too, Professor.
Come right in." Even as she spoke this greeting to her
guests the mother s lips quivered. Did these men know
that Estella had forgotten her old home? That the
glamour of city life had so turned her head that she
even refused to answer any of their letters? Had some
one been to the city? the tortured mother wondered.
Anna met the Professor with stony eyes. He had
not been to call upon her since before Estella went
away, and in her heart had crept the thought that he
might have been courting her in order to be near her
sister. She could not guess that he had noted a change
in her manner toward him even before Estella went
away, and thought she had become ambitious to follow
Estella to the city, and consequently did not care to en
courage his suit.
Both men were ill at ease, after they had exhausted
die small talk wherewith we mortals attempt to bridge
over the uncomfortable and oft recurring chasms
abounding in the land where all fear to be misunder
stood. "What business have I to pry into the hidden
THE FIRST ALARM 179
griefs and hurt prides of this family," each asked him
self, and each decided that women who had no men
folks of their own to look after them couldn t take a
bit of neighborly interest amiss, even though there was
nothing in the rumor.
According to agreement Henry, the older man, was
to keep Mrs. Davis engaged in a discussion of current
events until the Professor had sounded Anna. It took
several nudges, and sundry winks, to start the Professor
on his mission, but finally he mustered courage to ask
Anna to step out on the porch with him, as he had
something important to talk over with her.
As she followed him, pale-faced and wondering, her
mind was busy framing an excuse for not listening to
him, but he did not give her time to utter a word before
he plunged into his subject.
"Anna," he began, as soon as they were out the
door. "I have been all you would let me be to you ever
since I came to this town why didn t you come to me
with your trouble.?"
The girl shrank back among the wild cucumber
vines that girdled the porch, but did not reply.
"I know," the man went on, "that Estella has not
answered any of your letters."
"How do you know?"
"That does not matter it is the truth and you
foolish women for some cause, to me an enigma, are
keeping silent when Estella s life, her very honor, may
be in danger."
"Oh, John," the girl gasped and caught at him for
support. "I ve been afraid of that, but it is only moth
er s pride that s hurt she does not suspect, and I dare
not tell her of my half-formed fears a mention of that
would kill her. Oh, John, how could I know? I
thought you had ceased had ceased to to care
you "
"And you," he replied, kissing her despite a protest,
"you made me wretched. How could I know, when
you deliberately lied to me ? Oh, Anna, how could you !
Why didn t you tell me ?"
"Because I foolishly promised mother not to say a
word to any one. Poor mother believes that Estella has
forgotten us, and recounts stories she has read about
ISO MILLS OF MAMMON
children who left home and were so enamored of their
new surroundings that they didn t want to even hear of
the old homes and because this is the easiest, safest
thing to believe, I have tried to accept it, but "
"But you are both very foolish, if you will pardon
me for being so blunt, to harbor such a thought of Es-
tella for a moment."
"I know it, John. I know it. Will you go to the
city and find her for us? She always liked you," the
girl blushed and looked down. Professor John Saun-
ders, unable to resist the temptation, gathered her into
his arms and was trying to tell her that he would go
to the ends of the earth for her when Mrs. Davis came
to the door. At sight of the tableau on the back porch
she threw up her hands:
"Land of love. If I ever! Why, Professor Saun-
ders !" were the exclamations that brought Henry to her
side, and at the same time caused the Professor to look
up with a rather sheepish smile, then to whisper to the
girl, whose face was hidden on his shoulder: "There s
but ne way to explain, and it s the way I ve wanted to
explain things to your mother for more than a year."
And he said aloud, that those standing in the doorway
might hear: "Mrs. Davis, I love your daughter may
I have her?"
"Land a mercy. Isn t that a slick way of getting
around an old lady? John Saunders, why didn t you
bring the rest of the neighbors in, and tell it right out
before them all?
"I wouldn t be ashamed to tell the whole world,"
John stoutly protested, while he pressed Anna closer and
she hung her head lower to hide her blushes.
"Well, I ain t got a word to say when a girl stands
afore her own mother, an a stranger, as you might call
Henry here, an lets a man hug her, an she don t seem
in no ways bashful about it I should judge that I ain t
got nothing to say."
"Mother!" There was a world of reproach in
Anna s voice as she lifted a radiant though tear-stained
face from her lover s shoulder.
After the mother and Henry had left them Anna
turned to her lover: "John," she said, "I ought to be
THE FIRST ALARM l8l
ashamed of myself for being so happy if you love me,
go. Don t telegraph, don t say a word to any one."
"But the postmaster, operator, and Henry know
and the Lord only knows how many more have the news
by this time," he protested.
"Then there is all the more reason why you should
hurry. In a wjsek s time think how many .stories will be
abroad."
"I will go to-night," he answered, and kissed her de
spite her struggles, protesting that he deserved much
for all the doubts he had carried in his heart for the
weeks since he had imagined she had geased to care
for him.
"Say, by gum, you re the bully boy with th glass eye
all right, John Saunders," Henry Weaver observed as
soon as they were out on the otreet, and enlarged upon
his statement as follows: "Perfectly smooth, perfectly
smooth. Had the old lady in a corner where she had to
either come up to the trough or jump the fence, and as
for th young lady well, from th way you was hangin
onto her it seemed to me that it was as well that she
didn t try to yank herself loose. If she had "
"If she had I would have caught her again," the
Professor answered, laughing; and then in a serious
tone took up the discussion of ways and means for the
prosecution of his city trip. Before they had reached
the postoffice where the postmaster was anxiously await
ing them, it had been agreed that both should go to the
city.
Upon arrival in the city, Weaver and Saunders
first sought the address given by the firm with whom
Estella was supposed to be employed. The number was
found to tally with a hole in the ground on West Madi
son street, and they were advised to lose no time in pre
senting their case to the police. So they hastened to a %
downtown station and laid their case before the officer
in charge.
"But, my dear sir," the sergeant protested, "you
should have come to us with this case two weeks ago.
In fact, we should have known of this unprotected
girl s arrival in the city. It s pretty late in the day to
undertake an investigation and give you any promise
l82 MILLS OF MAMMON
of reaching her. You say the address at which she
was supposed to work is that of a vacant lot? Of
course, it was a regular plant."
"How about the letters her folks have written each
day?" This from the Professor.
"Oh, they d see that that end of it was fixed for
a while at least, but I ll send a man over to the office
and find out about her mail as soon as I have one to
spare, and we ll put a couple of good men on the case."
He paused and seemed buried in thought for a time,
then looking up, asked: "Did you bring much money
with you? I ve found that it is often advisable on
cases of this kind to have outside help from some of the
detective agencies, and, of course, the city can t be ex
pected to put up for that kind of work," he went on
to explain.
"Sure, we brought some of the needful along, and if
it costs five hundred dollars, we can put it up without
going back to the cellar for more," Weaver announced,
to the surprise of the Professor, who thought that all
they would need in the way of cash was enough to pay
hotel bills.
"That s the talk," the officer assured them. "Now
you gents just give me your hotel address haven t got
that far yet? Well, I ll fix you out, and you may ex
pect to hear from me almost any time." He drew a
pad to him, scribbled a note, placed it in an envelope,
licked the flap, sealed it, penciled a superscription and
handed the envelope to John.
"Give that to Mr. Holtz and you will be well taken
care of yes, the Holtz House is just around the corner
and one block south you can t miss it. It s a good
place. Good-day, gents."
On the way to the Holtz House, Henry exploded.
"Why, John," he exclaimed, "that brute talked as cool
as if we had only lost a yearling calf, confound him !
Set there and never even blinked when you told him the
villains had put up such a game on an innocent girl.
Why, damn that man, his looks alone would get him
hung in a decent neighborhood if they were looking for
a criminal. And him directing the police force! Why,
man, he s a drunkard, and he s dirty, and his eyes .
John Saunders, you never want on your soul what I
THE FIRST ALARM 183
saw in that man s eyes. I wonder if there ain t some
other police shop we can go to? One where there is a
decent man in charge?"
"No use kicking now," the Professor insisted.
"Our case will be booked and have every attention. And
you re wrong if you think that officer directs the police
force. He s a sort of clerk to the department ; enters
up the cases and reports them to the central station."
"Suppose he don t report our case? I tell you, John,
I wouldn t trust that man half as far as I could throw
old Baker s bull by the tail; another thing, I d like to
know what s inside that envelope he gave you ; if I had
it I d see but, I reckon, you couldn t be induced?"
"Not me," the Professor answered, laughing, and
remarked: "It wouldn t need to be sealed so far as I
am concerned."
"All right, we ll go to this Mr. Holtz hotel, but you
can bet that this chicken isn t going to turn himself
over to the police department, not entire. I ve heard
some things about them since I ve been on earth this
time that makes me fairly hungry to see what s inside
that envelope ;" he looked hard at John, but as that gen
tleman did not appear to be of a yielding disposition
where his integrity was touched, Henry closed the dis
cussion with this observation: "Anyway, I m going to
keep my eye peeled, and I d advise you to forget there
ever was a God while you are on this case, and you ll
be better able to discuss business with the average man
we ll run up against in this city."
There were but few guests in the office of the Holtz
House when John handed the note Sergeant Mike had
given him to the sleek youth who stood behind the desk.
This young gentleman, who sported two well-grown
"Alaskan Diamonds," and parted his abundant crop of
hair into two fluffy mats of black, took the envelope, and
after looking carefully at the address, called: "Martin,
Oh, Martin; here s a note from Mike!"
Martin Holtz, a rotund little man of middle age, who
supported a long-established baldness, and saw things
through a pair of sharp black eyes, waddled around be
hind the counter, examining the men from the country
at his leisure as he went. He took the note from the
clerk, glanced at it for a moment, then at the visitors,
184 MILLS OF MAMMON
read it through, swung the register around, and reached
out a hand. "Glad to see you, gentlemen. Yes, register
there; how long will you stay? Oh, that s all right.
We ll fix you out all right." To the clerk, he said, in
an undertone : "You d better hunt Bill up ; I ll stay here
till you get back."
As the visitors moved away from the desk, Holtz
took out the note and read it again.
"Martin : I m sending you two from the grass. The
old fellow s the candy. Take good care of him. The
other guy s a preacher. They re here on a girl hunt.
Send Bill over, I want to see him at once. Mike."
The particular "Bill" Sergeant Mike wants to see
deserves more than passing attention. He is one of
those combination errand boys, hangers-on, go-betweens
and confidential agents employed by the grafting states
men, the bribe-taking policeman and the business man
looking for a chance to lose his money and his virtue.
The number of "Bills" grow and fatten as public mor
als decay. The individual "Bill" under discussion wears
clothes up to the limit of his rake-off from week to
week. Raiment with him is not a fixed possession, to be
worn until worn out last month he appeared at one of
the downtown hotels in full regalia of a gentleman of
fashion; wore a high hat, sported diamonds, and took
his meals at the "Annex." This month his headquar
ters are at the "Holtz," and his fine plumage of last
month lies on a shelf at "Uncle s." Until something
worth while turns up, this cog in the great American
Politico-graft Machine must content himself with a
"Dicer" and clothes in keeping; all braced by a brave
show of "phony" jewels worn to make a "front" be
fore those from the green country who bring with them
the real long green of commerce.
Here comes our particular "Bill." His eyes are ever
on the move, cunning, restless, daring. Yes, daring.
When a coward knows a mischance but loses him a vic
tim, knows that behind him all the machinery of crime
and a goodly part of the State s machinery for the detec
tion of crime is ready to offer him asylum why should
he fear? When he went up to the desk and asked what
was vvTt.rrl after reading the note, he simply remarked
THE FIRST ALARM 185
that it looked good ; then turning to survey trie room
asked: "Where s the blokes?"
# # * # * *
"The thing that surprised me," John was saying, as
the two sat apart in the lobby of Holtz Hotel, "is your
interest in this case, Henry. Is there anything back of
it?" Henry Weaver let his eyes rest upon the throng
passing upon the opposite side of the street. He did
not move for what seemed to John an hour. When he
did look at his companion, his face was alight.
"Yes," he admitted. "There s something behind it;
a good deal behind it." Hesitating again, his blue eyes
sought the opposite side of the street. When next he
turned to John it was to say: "1 never told a soul in
my life, Professor, and I never expected to, but bein s
you and me is hooked up in this case, and bein s how
I m going to stay with it until I know what s happened
to Stella, I m going to tell you." Again he hesitated.
"Provided you promise never to say a word."
"On my honor."
"Then here goes. When Grace Ward was a-goin
on fifteen, I went to work for one of the neighbors and
I planned from the first time I seen her to have that
gal. Times I lost hope, an again I d perk up some.
She was as lively as a cricket, and didn t need to do
anything but refuse the first half-dozen fellows as
asked her to go anywhere, always knowin they d be as
many more waitin the chance. That went on for three
years, and most of the boys got kind of tired, but I
stuck to it, and either went with Grace or went alone.
Well, at the end," he knocked the ashes from his pipe
and leisurely refilled it, "at the end of the three years
I seemed to have things my own way and was happy.
Why, man, I wouldn t have traded my buckboard and
little fly mare and my hope of finally bringing Grace to
say Yes for all the world. Then big Jim Davis, from
over the river, got sight of my song bird." He fell si
lent again, the Professor was looking straight out at
the building over the way. "Yes, I took her to him. It
was this way: I d heard they was having a rip-roarin
revival over to the Zion church on the other side of
the river, bout twelve miles from the corner where
Grace s folks lived, an I was so proud of Grace and
l86 MILLS OF MAMMON
my rig, it was sleighing and I had a cutter, that Iwant-
ed to show off, and Grace was a sight to sec ; tump,
rosy-cheeked, big brown eyes, and the sweetest augh.
Well, we went. I left her standin at the gate -nile I
put the horse up, then we went in and stood by ne of
the big stoves while Grace unwrapped. My, bul was
proud ! Nothing there could beat her, and that vis the
trouble. We went back to a seat and it just happen 1 that
the usher showed us into a long pew almost full. Grace
went in ahead and sat down by the man she mrried
three months later. He looked at her with all h eyes,
and whispered to me about one thing and anotbr, but
all the time he kept looking at Grace. When tb meet
ing was over he helped me get my horse andtucked
Grace in ; by that time he knew where she live and a
good deal more. Grace seemed sort of quic going
home, but two nights later, she wanted to go bck and
I didn t, but we went. And as sure as I live tfct Jim
Davis was a-waitin t help her out and I guess b asked
her whilst I was putting the horse away if he juldn t
come and see her ; anyway, he came, and I put u a los-
in fight; but I tell you I stuck to it to the la.s I re
member one night in the early spring I went >ver to
Wards and Grace sent word down that she \*s sick,
but I stayed because I knew her mother liked ic, and
didn t like Davis. Finally Grace came downsters and
just stuck her head into the door and said: I-enry, I
want to see you a minute ; only a minute/ On! a min
ute? I says, when I ve been waiting hours? iie tried
to laugh, but didn t make much of it, and when -e were
out on the porch she up and told me she d romised
to marry Jim Davis, and it was coming off in aaonth.*
The Professor turned his keen eyes upon te older
man.
"Well, Professor, I suppose I ought to hve just
been completely horns waggled, but I warn t. I know d
she couldn t hold out against such lovin as jig Jim
Davis put up. I knew I loved her better; I kt*\v that;
but I couldn t take her in my arms and jusi squeeze
the breath out of her and kiss her a dozen tnes and
her a sayin Don t, don t, don t every time :>e could
get her breath. That s the way big Jim loved icr, and
got her; and I loved her so much I couldn t go gin her
THE FIRST ALARM 187
word, even when I knew she didn t mean it, and I lost
her. When she told me and I didn t seemed surprised,
she looked at me kind of funny and said : I thought you
loved me ? Then, I seemed to sense that it was all over,
and I just caught her up in my arms and kissed her and
told her how I had always loved her, and if big Jim
ever kissed her oftener or hugged her harder it was be
cause he was a bigger man, and she never said don t
once." The narrator drew a hand across his mouth and
chuckled. "Well, when I let her go she looked up at
me the queerest and says: Henry, why didn t you do
that before? Because I have been fool enough to be
lieve you didn t want me to, not because I didn t want
to, I answered. She patted me on the shoulder and
said: Never mind, Henry, there s half a dozen nice
girls in this neighborhod who will jump at the chance
of marrying you. Then I told her there would never
be another woman in this world given the chance to say
either Yes or No to me, and I meant it. Well, Jim
married her and in a couple of years they moved to the
new town, when the railroad went through, but he never
done well, though he did love Grace and the babies.
When they d been married about ten years, I went over
to the town to live and to look after some property I had
there. Then Jim died and I helped straighten things out,
and got the family into the little home they have."
"Why in the world didn t you marry the widow?"
the Professor asked.
"Well, that was the queer part of it," Henry admit
ted, in a low voice. "First oft I thought to myself as
soon as Grace got kind of quieted down I d go over and
kind of commence where we d left off out on her folks
porch away back there, but the more I thought of it the
more I found I d quit loving her right there and then.
I d just been a good friend since, that s all. Well, I
went over several times, intendin each time to see if I
couldn t get the old feelin back, but I ll be hornswaggled
if it ud come. I d just plum as lief gone out and kissed
her cow, mind you," he looked up to frown. "Grace
Davis is a plum good-looking woman, only I loved a
girl, a bright-faced, brown-eyed girl, with dimpled chin
and the reddest cheeks and lips, the same as I kissed
that night on the porch; and seems it don t matter how
l88 MILLS OF MAMMON
old I grow, my love always stays young." Again silence
fell. Bill sauntered by, took their measure and went on
to report. "Been a long time getting around to present
time ; eh, Professor ?" Henry smiled.
"What?"
"I say it s takin me a long time to tell what brought
me into this case, but I was layin a proper foundation,
as them lawyer chaps keeps a-sayin in court." The pipe
was out again ; slowly this ever-young old lover of
fifty-five refilled it, and when its glow had been revived
he settled back in the big rocker. "Seems like a fool
thing to say, and I tell you beforehand that I ain t no
excuses to offer, and ain t never had no hopes nor noth
in . But, I ve loved Stella ever since she put on dresses
to her shoe tops."
"Loved Estella?" The Professor turned square
around. "Loved Estella?" he repeated, to which Henry
nodded, and blew a ring whirling and dipping toward
the lighter currents of air above.
. "Them s the words, Professor. She s the duplicate
of what her mother was as a girl, only she s got all of
Jim Davis rock-bottom principles along with her moth
er s body and spirits." He looked closely at the Profes
sor. "But, John, you want to understand that I haven t
been no fool. I knowed this love of mine was billed to
the same port as the old one ; besides, I d never have the
chance to stand on no back porches with her, but I jest
naturally worship the ground she walks over, and I
don t ask nothin else. If I d had the gumption of a
louse when I was courting her mother, Stella would of
been my daughter, and, well, maybe that would of been
too much happiness for one man."
"I wish to God Estella was your wife to-night,"
John answered.
"Do you now?" the other questioned, with an odd
smile. "Well, John, it s too much to ask and I m not
asking anything, but as true as I believe in God, I don t
give up the hunt until I find her or them that s made
away with her." He arose, his clinched hands tight
gripped. "I ain t up to date on city ways, even if I
have seen some of the world, and I m suspicious we
ain t started right, but by the Holies, John, I ain t got
nothin else to live for, but that poor innocent child."
CHAPTER XXVII.
A COUNTRYMAN HELD UP.
Mike, police sergeant, protector of morals, guide to
the ignorant and guardian of innocence, had not waited
patiently the appearance of Bill Jenks. "There s many a
slip twixt the cup and the lip," even in the skinning of
"greens;" therefore his face expressed even more of
satisfaction than his grunt, when Bill stepped into the
station.
"What s on ?" the latter demanded abruptly.
"If it s worked right, there s plenty on," Mike as
sured him and asked, "did you see the guys?"
"Sure thing; put my lamps on em the minute I got
into the house, but what s the lay?"
"That s easy. You see, Bill, a girl comes to town
about two or three weeks ago and gets pinched by one
of the board of trade, and her sorrowing parents sends
these two guys with a roll of money and the girl s photo
graph in here today."
"Well, it s a cinch they wouldn t know the girl by
her photo if they found her now," Bill winked knowing
ly. "Not if Pagan "
"Cut it Bill !" Mike s hand fell upon "Bill s" mouth
with some emphasis. "What th hell you want to men
tion names here for?"
"Beg pardon," the other stammered ; "I forgot."
"An you ain t got notfhin to do but remember see?
If you re going to see this lead to the end you want to
be always on the lookout." Bill nodded acquiescence,
and Mike proceeded. "I ve turned the case in regular
and everything will be according to specifications, but
the guys, bein apt to git restless while the department s
tryin to git started, I want you to fix up a little enter
tainment on the side for the missionaries. Suppose you
git a couple of th boys to go over to the hotel and offer
to help them find the girl ; they can explain how slow we
189
ICK> MILLS OF MAMMON
are over here. Oh, I don t need to tell you that don t
I ? Get two good men ; have them fixed so these guys
couldn t swear to them in case of a slip up, then go down
to one of the women on that list and fix with her to have
the farmers visit there with the fly-cops and when they
ask after Estella Davis, why put up a good song and
have them promise to produce her, say tomorrow night,
for five hundred dollars. If it s worked right, they will
bite like the bedbugs in the hold-over. Now, git out and
git the thing moving. I get two hundred dollars, you
get one hundred and the woman gits two hundred. Now
mosey and earn the money. There ll be more where that
comes from before we get through with the case/ Mike
assured Bill as the latter left the little coop-like office.
In two hours, under directions from Desk Sergeant
Mike, the machinery of crime had been oiled, the net
spread, and all made ready. After supper, the oily clerk
tapped Henry on the shoulder.
"Is this Mr. Saunders?" he inquired.
"No, that s the chap." Henry pointed a thumb toward
a lone figure at a window.
"A telephone call for you, Mr. Saunders." The oily
clerk, with a face full of pimples and a head full of sin,
slipped back to the counter. John went to the phonr.
"Is this Mr. Saunders?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"Police department may want you at any time from
now up to 12 o clock, keep close to the hotel."
"All right, thanks ; am glad to know you have things
moving."
"Oh, she s moving some," Mike answered before
hanging up the receiver, and John wondered what it was
that induced a laugh at the other end.
"Henry, they ve got things moving some over at
headquarters; just keep your eyes open." Henry looked
up at the professor and smiled. "I m a-giving theta gents
something to look at. They been here bout half ;,n hour,
an as near as I can figure, they want to make my ac
quaintance, an maybe yours, too."
"But, why are you counting all that mone> ^"
"Countin it? Cause it seems to do them, chaps a
power of good to watch me. Look into that mirror right
in front of me, an see em both in there jest as pJain "
A COUNTRYMAN HELD UP IQI
1 don t see what you re driving at, Henry." The
professor was both puzzled and anxious.
"Why, I m settin stakes to tie a couple of tin-horn
sports to, that s what. Think I been from Bangor, Me.,
to the City of Mexico, and up the coast to Alaska, and
circulatin around through the interior of Denver, Kan
sas City, and St. Louis, to come into this metropolis to
be robbed, shanghaied, sandbagged, badgered, doped or
any of them things?" He went on counting his money
quietly and as naturally as though he were safe at home.
A fat leather bill-book lay upon a chair beside him,
while in his hands were bills of various denominations.
John leaned over the back of his chair, not the least
interested spectator by any means.
The two men who were on watch, the oily clerk and
several other gentlemen, amongst them some honest men,
were being attracted to the money center, when Henry
quietly took a pile he had counted off, doubled it up and
shoved it into a vest pocket.
"I reckon that ought* to be enough to bring them, an
if they want any more " he got up, "well, they ll come
after it I reckon. Let s go an take a look at our bunk."
When the two were in their room, Henry shook his
fist at the Professor, saying, "I wish I had taken that
letter away from you. You can say what you please, but
I tell you that police officer an this hotel ain t healthy
people or places for greenhorns. An I ll bet you "
"For heaven s sake, man, don t talk so loud ; they can
hear you all over the house," John pleaded.
"I reckon that s right," Henry admitted. "But, I ll
be hornswaggled if I ain t gettin mad inside. Why,
when them two gents came in, they took special pains to
examine every man there, an when they took us in they
made signs. I seen it all in that mirror. When you
went over to telephone, they grinned and kept an eye on
me. Then, I made up my mind to jest draw them out.
That s why I was a countin money so all-fired promis
cuous when you come back."
"See here, Henry;" John s voice was serious. "I
can t put up any argument against what you say, be
cause I don t know any more of the world than a well,
than any other country boy. I ve been in the school room
IQ2 MILLS OF MAMMON
since I was 5 years -old, but if you are right, let s get
away; there are lots of hotels."
"Not for me," the other exclaimed ; then catching the
professor by the shoulders, he asked, "see anything that
looks like quit in my eyes? I never in my life refused
to give a man value received, an I ve gone up against
all the games they ve got. Why, John, if I had on city
clothes them guys, who s a waiting for us down in the
office, would just take a sneak. It s the clothes they see,
an if they want to see more, I m a-going to show them
a man the clothes didn t make."
"You re not going to run into danger, when we have
this case on hand, are you?"
"John, I haven t said anything to you about my sus
picions, and I don t want to now. But I believe the
only way to find a trace of Stella is to run into danger
as you call it."
"Then you don t believe "
"Don t ask me what I don t or do believe; you keep
close to the police. I m going to keep close to them fel
lers down in the office, if it costs a thousand dollars."
A bell rang ; the indicator pointed to visitors, and the
two went down to the office. Henry went to the desk,
another clerk, the night man, had come on duty.
"A couple of gentlemen there they are over by the
long table called for you." The guest turned, and fol
lowed by John, went over to the long table.
"Are you the gentlemen?" John inquired.
"Well, that depends," one of the men answered. "We
are detectives, and our agency discovered" he handed
each a card "that a disappearance case had been given
to the police today. If you are the parties who are in
the city to prosecute an investigation, we are certainly
anxious to make your acquaintance."
During this speech, the Professor had stood as one
stunned. These were the men he had seen in the mirror
earlier in the evening.
"You fellers certainly know your business," Henry
began. "You certainly do; and what might I call you?"
The man who had not spoken, now got into the game.
"This is Mr. Johnson, and my name is Brawn, just
plain Brown," with a smile.
A COUNTRYMAN HELD UP 193
"An this is Professor Saunders; and my name s
Weaver, gents ; let s set down and talk things over."
Seated, the four were soon deep in the discussion of
the case on hand.
"While I haven t a word to say against the police,"
Brown informed them, "I must insist that they have so
much routine work on hand that this sort of case don t
get the attention it should."
"I more than suspected that," Henry agreed.
"I m glad you appreciate the situation," Brown con
tinued; "and I assure you our agency goes at things of
this sort differently, why, it s our business."
"How much would it cost us to have you two men
oh the case?" the Professor inquired.
"Well, that depends upon how we work. You see,
the agency has detailed us on this case. If we make a
bargain with you to-night, we simply report the terms
and go ahead."
"Gee whiz ! They must trust you two," Henry ob
served, and he did not fail to catch an expressive look
passed between them.
"Yes, they trust us. In fact, we are the best men on
the force ; isn t that about it, Brown ?" said Johnson.
"About it," Brown admitted.
"Now, as to terms," he went on. "We could not take
up the case for less than thirty dollars per day."
"Thirty dollars? Why, we can t pay any such price
as " the Professor began, when Henry nearly took his
breath by declaring:
"Well, gents, you re hired," and reaching into a vest
pocket, he extracted some bills. "Here s the money that
pays you up to this time tomorrow night."
The detectives were almost as much surprised as the
Professor. Before they had recovered, Henry was say
ing:
"Now, we got started; just you two remember, I ve
got one thousand dollars for each of you on the side, the
day you put me and my niece in the same room, if it s
only for ten minutes. An* remember this, too, I m go
ing to have enough money here by the middle of next
week to see this thing through ; so it s up to you to get
busy. An here s the plan we go to work on. You two
get thirty dollars every night as long as I am satisfied
194 MILLS OF MAMMON
you re working. If you find the girl by next Monday
and bring her to a place in the city I m going to pick
out, you each get one thousand dollars besides your
wages. If you get her by next Saturday you get seven
hundred, and if it takes two weeks you only get five hun
dred dollars."
The two detectives looked at each other in a manner
that conveyed to each, the fact that the other was com
pletely at sea.
Turning to Henry, Brown said : "Mr. Weaver, your
offer is a most liberal one, and there are some features
about it that are are, well, are unprecedented. If you
gentlemen have no objection I should like to have a pri
vate conversation with my partner," but he hesitated.
"Would you mind producing proof that you can pay this
reward or bonus on the spot?"
For answer, Henry took from a pocket a bunch of
letters and books, amongst them a bank book, showing a
deposit of six thousand dollars with the Corn Exchange
Bank.
"Now go and have your confab, and come back as
soon as you can," he admonished them as they got up.
"And in the meantime, as the contract ain t closed, why
just hand me that retainer."
The detectives reached into their pockets, extracted
the bills and left the lobby. When they were gone, John
seemed to wake from a dream.
"What does this mean, Henry? I never heard any
one call you a rich man, but you certainly "
"Have just tended to my own business. Why John,
what s money to me? I could give them two devils ten
thousand dollars and never blink, if they d only get
Stella back."
"But, I thought you were afraid of them; thought
they were crooks ?" the puzzled professor protested.
"So I was; an so I do," the other affirmed. "An
I was bound to show them that this time, at least, there ll
be more money in it for them ten times over, if they help
us, than they could get by tryin to skin me."
"Mr. Saunders is wanted at the police station," the
night clerk announced. "I hope you have your way with
them, and Henry I want to thank you."
"Now, you go along, I ain t doing nothin but making
A COUNTRYMAN HELD UP IQ5
myself happy in circumventin some folks and a-helping
others, but don t you breathe a word." Henry pushed
him away.
In the wine room back of the hotel bar, two men were
staring hard at each other over their beer glasses. Each
anxious to be sure the other would agree to accept the
offer Mr. Weaver had made them, which meant break
ing with -those who were slated to divide up all the
money they might bunco him out of, or steal from him.
To go in to win this one thousand each, they must play
a double game. Both were hungry as starved wolves for
this pile, dangled before them, and they felt confident,
each of his ability to find the girl and that within twen
ty-four hours. Yet, neither dared speak. The beer
glasses were emptied and refilled, and still not a word.
"This can t last always," Johnson managed to say
after a third glass. The other looked at him keenly.
"Shall we toss a coin? Heads we go in for the big
stake, tails, we play Mike s game." He extracted a dol
lar from his pocket, then Johnson put a hand over the
coin.
"If I could trust you," was all he said.
"I don t owe Mike a cent," Brown answered.
"Then put up the coin ! Here s my hand, and may
the devil fly away with me if we don t win that thousand.
But how about Mike? He ll expect his two hundred
plunks first off, Monday morning. He knows the man s
got em and we re supposed to take em away from
him."
"I know that," Johnson replied, "and I m working
my head overtime. Oh, if we could just lay the plant
out before Mr. Weaver, but that ud be asking too much.
I can t see the way out now ; anyway, we have until to
morrow night."
"Well, let s go up and cinch the thing. It s too good
to lose ; and say ; if we get next to the girl by to-morrow,
well, we can divide the money and give Mike what he
asked."
Henry Weaver sat dreaming of many things after his
detectives and the Professor had gone; the girl he had
loved, the daughter who had taken her place in his heart,
then of the men who had gone to some quiet spot to re
arrange the game to suit the conditions he had proposed.
196 MILLS OF MAMMON
He knew his bid was higher than any that had been of
fered them by those who employed them to rob him. He
argued that even these men would prefer to be honest
and deal on the square if the money consideration was
greater on the side of honesty than the reward offered
for dishonesty. He also knew if these men were in
league with criminals and could be won over to his cause,
they would be the best servants he might choose. He
was still dreaming of the days to come, days in which he
might enjoy seeing this old, new love of his living in
comfort, when the detectives returned. Johnson wafs
spokesman for the pair.
"Mr. Weaver, we have decided to take your offer, but
would like to have you extend the time on that one
thousand dollars until Tuesday. You see, this is a case
that may take more time."
"Make it Tuesday, gents ; make it Tuesday, and re
member, I m ready to make it even a greater inducement
for you to hustle ; I want this girl tomorrow, if possible,
the next day sure, and you get five hundred dollars ex
tra, five hundred for each of you, if the girl is found by
Monday. The one thousand dollars holds good until
Tuesday evening. It s one thousand five hundred each in
cold cash if you get her by Monday night."
"One thousand five hundred each!" Johnson ex
claimed. "Well, Brown, we don t want to waste any
time now." Both men arose.
Weaver took out his fat bill book. "Gents," he said,
"I reckon ready money s as strong a talker where you
are going to look for Stella as it is on Wall street, and
I want you to be in shape to meet any argument."
The two looked at each other in a way that said:
"This is the limit," and said it plainly. Brown tried to
get his faculties to work and failed. Johnson rubbed
his hands and smiled, but seemed at a loss for words.
"Boys, I ve been round the world an know about all
the games man or woman gets up against." Henry stood
facing the two. "An I want you two to understand to
night that I m prepared to play this game to the limit. I
want this little girl ; I know about what s happened to
her. If she s alive, I want her ; if she s dead, I am a-go
ing to have revenge on them that murdered her. I can
pay you more to help me than them that s hiding her
A COUNTRYMAN HELD UP 197
will pay you to help them keep her and rob me." Both
men held up protesting hands. That s all right," Henry
went on, "that s all right, I ain t askin questions. All
I want from you is a square deal. If you had a job
planned and ought to carry it out in order to keep the
others in the dark, spit it out. I ain t no spring chicken,
an I d go through hell to find the girl." The men were
uneasy. Here wa-s a man who knew more in a minute
than they had supposed he would know when they were
through with him. What should they do? If he would
consent to be robbed in order to protect them, well, it
would give them a better opportunity to handle the case.
"Well ?" Henry uttered the one word and waited.
"Damn me, Mr. Weaver, you ve got the best nerve
I ever run up against!"
Johnson extended his hand, but Brown seemed so
stunned he did not even look up.
"Out with it gents ; let s get down to business. Time s
going, and I m considerable impatient to see the game
moving;" he motioned Brown to a seat.
"Mr. Weaver, I don t mind telling you we were sent
here to get you into a sort of panel game, but, when we
found you were on the square and would put up the coin
if given a fair show, well, we decided, Brown and I, to
throw the other side and stand by you. But, if you
would go with us tonight and let them separate you
from about three hundred dollars, it would put us on
easy. street in this game. We could pass the word that
you were out of funds, but would try and get some more
and that would end all attempts to bilk you for a time
and leave us in the field, then we could get right down
to work on the case."
"That s all that s necessary," their employer informed
them. "I ve got something like six hundred dollars here.
You each get one hundred to use as you see fit. I ll
salt one hundred dollars if you ll excuse me a minute,
and I ll go up against this little game as has been fixed
for me."
Brown whistled. "I ll be literally clawed into cat
meat, if this isn t a plant ?" He burst out when Weaver
had gone to his room. "What do you think of him any
way, Bob ? Had us twigged to a fare-you-well from the
word go, and up and buys, and sits in to play both ends
198 MILLS OF MAMMON
against the middle. Well, I ll be damned!" He jumped
up. "I never in my short existence, heard of such a
thing."
"And you ll live another long time before you get
next to another like him. Why, Billie, he s simply it.
Talk about rigging him Peter at the gate s a slouch
beside that old rounder." Brown reached over and
tapped his partner on the shoulder. "I feel that wad,
something like two thousand in good bills, resting against
my heart. Why, it s easy."
"Ought to be when Weaver is willing to play both
sides," Johnson replied as Weaver left the elevator and
came toward them.
"All right, gents ; let s be going. I don t want to pass
too much money to you here or they might ask you some
mighty embarrassin questions tomorrow." At which
speech, a very comprehensive look passed between the
detectives as the trio went out into the night.
If Desk Sergeant Mike had known that Estella Davis
was one of Pagan s victims, he would hardly .have set
tled upon one of her joints as the place in which Henry
Weaver was to be relieved of his money, and could Pagan
have safely refused the honor thus thrust upon her,
Weaver s two allies would not have found a warm trail
so soon. Pagan had remonstrated, but the persuasive
powers of Jenks overcame her scruples and things were
put in readiness for the reception of the victim.
It was almost 10 o clock when Tom -bounded into
Pagan s room.
"They landed the guy and he s down in the saloon
now. Where s it to be pulled off?" he inquired breath
lessly.
"Over at Mary s place; she s half moved out now,
and by the time the police get next, the place will be
empty."
"Who s over there ?" Tom asked.
" Red Kate and Cora. I ll go right over ; you keep
them for a few minutes."
Pagan went out the back way and Torn returned to
the bar. Thirty minutes later, Weaver and the detectives
were in Mary s flat on a neighboring street. Pagan
wore a veil, and to more effectually hide her identity, sat
in a dark corner. Johnson opened the interview by in-
A COUNTRYMAN HELD UP 199
troducing Mr. Weaver, then he and Brown left the room.
Who is this girl you want to see?" Fagan asked.
"Estella Davis/ Weaver replied, his voice shaking
with emotion.
"And if I were to tell you she is in this house, within
a few feet of you, what would you say?"
I d thank God, Madam, and bless you, if you d
just let me see her for ten minutes.
"You want to take her with you, don t you ?"
"Certainly, I want to take her," he answered.
"Well;" Pagan s voice was level and firm. "Estella
Davis is here, but before you can see her or take her
with you, there s a little matter of board -and other ex
penses to be settled for."
"How much ?"
"Five hundred dollars."
But woman, I haven t got five hundred dollars, and
I don t know as I could get that much." Henry was
chuckling inwardly; the first test he had put his men to
had not failed. Five hundred dollars was the price set
<on his head, they had scaled the price to three hundred
and would lie like pirates in substantiation.
"How much have you ?"
"Well, I ve got ". he took out his bill book and
counted out the money; "two hundred and eighty dol
lars here and they s," he fumbled in his vest pockets,
"twentv-five dollars here, but I got to have five dollars
for the hotel anyway." He looked intently at Fagan.
"Three hundred dollars," Fagan could not hide her
greed. "That s less than I ought to take, but if it s all
you have " She held out her hand.
Henry walked over to her, holding the three hun
dred dollars between his fingers.
"If I give you this money, what assurance have I
that I get what I m paying for?" shaking the bills.
"Every assurance," she answered, still reaching for
the money. "Didn t you come here with two detectives.
What chance have I to play any game on you? ;
"By crackey; I forgot them detectives." He shoved
money, fist and all into a pocket. "What s to hinder me
from a-demaiidin that the girl be produced and a-orderin
them detectives to take her out of here?"
Fagan scowled. "Lots to hinder," she assured him.
2OO MILLS OF MAMMON
"Thev have no warrants for my arrest nor for this gir?
and Ions: before they can get one, I ll have her safe
enough, even from your detectives."
"I m going to call them in ;" he started for the door.
"Stop right there, Mr. Weaver, you either settle with
me here and now " She tapped the bell and "Red"
Kate appeared. "Send Tom and Walter here, and if I
tap this bell again, take Estella Davis to the place I
told vou of." The woman stood irresolute and seemed
on the point of saying something on her own account,
when Fagan started toward her, saying, "Get out of here
and do as I tell you!" Red Kate disappeared.
"Now what do you intend to do?" Fagan demanded.
"You either fork over, or you don t see the girl. And 1,
warn vou, that if you attempt to leave this room, I ll
send your Estella where you won t see her in a while."
Tom and Walter, two as unprepossessing bouncers as
one would meet in a good while, entered the room and
stood on either side the door grinning at the gray-haired
victim. "What do you say Mr. Weaver? " Fagan
stood with outstretched hand, her fingers twitching to
feel the money.
"As it seems to be up to me, I guess about all I need
to say can be said by this here money." He pulled out
the handful of bills and placed them on Fagan s out
stretched palm, while the bouncers grins almost gave
forth sound. Fagan took the money to the flaring gas,
counted it, and turned to the men : "There s even three
hundred here. Is that right, Mr. Weaver?"
"That s all I got," Weaver answered.
"All right, sit down and I ll get the girl."
Faean left the room and was followed by the grin
ning bouncers. A key turned in the lock ; Weaver
iumoed uo with an odd oath, and bounded to the door;
it was locked. He raved, kicked and stormed while the
actors in the late drama scuttled from the place like rats
from a burning crib. For a time, Weaver had forgotten
his r>art. The thought had come to him that Estella
mieht have been hidden there, and so wrapped was he
in his purpose, that he had forgotten that all of this had
been planned, that he was but aiding two of the semi-
crkninals of the city to play safe. When it all came back
to him, he sat under the flaring gas and buried his face
A COUNTRYMAN HELD UP 2OI
in his hands. After a time, the key grated and Weaver
pulled a revolver from his boot leg and stood waiting.
The door opened and Johnson thrust his head in.
"Coast clear?" he whispered. Weaver pocketed the
revolver and nodded. "I hated to leave you so long, Mr.
Weaver, but we got onto a warm trail here and I had to
help Brown get started."
"Was she here?"
"No, not here, but that woman had her, and we know
who got her away from Pagan, and Brown s gone on
that pipe." Johnson was almost breathless.
"Now, partner, let s get out of here. But first we
must bust the door from this side, so you could get at
the key from the outside. Then, I ll make off and you
get down on the street and raise the dead. Yell for the
police and keep it up until some one conies. Then to
morrow morning at 10 o clock you come to that ad
dress ;" he handed Weaver a card, but it didn t bear the
name of a detective agency, "and be sure no one is on
your trail. You see, we don t dare to s how up at the
hotel again and no one is to know that you faave anything
to do with us."
"And you think you will get the girl?" Weaver
asked.
"Sure of it, and she ll be right as a rivet when we
find her. Mark what I tell you. Weaver, you are go
ing to have the pleasure of handing over that three
thousand." Johnson laughed.
"All right, you ll find me happier to hand it over
than I was to give that she-devil the three hundred, I
can tell you that."
"Say, that was a plant, and you certainly did the
innocent act to the queen s taste."
The door was broken and Johnson had been gone
for fully five minutes when Henry made his way to a
hall window overlooking the street and lifted his voice
to shout, "Thieves! Thieves! I ve been robbed! I ve
been robbed !"
Midnight traffic halted, pedestrians gathered in knots
upon the pavement and in the street. The police were
called and soon Henry Weaver was explaining to po
lice and citizens just what sort of a game had been
worked on him. The door bore evidence; the deserted
2O2 MILLS OF MAMMON
flat, more eloquent testimony. At the police station, He
told his story and took his way to the hotel.
Fagan lost no time, but sent a trusted messenger to
Madame Vaughn s. The doorkeeper protested that
Madame had long since retired; the messenger insisted
that there was no time to waste; Madame had to have
the message that night.
"Get Estella Davis out of your house; the police
have made a mess of things, and have got me where
there s a chance that this girl s relatives will be down on
me. Will explain later." This was the message Madame
read. She sent for the doorkeeper and asked him if
Mr. Johnson was in the house. He was. Well, he must
be called at once. Tell him Madame must see him im
mediately. Estella was awakened by the ringing of the
bell.
"Wake up, there s a fire or something ;" she reached
over and kissed him.
"What in blazes is that infernal bell?"
"Oh, don t, James. Shall I get up and find out what s
wanted ?"
"No, you keep still. Maybe they ve pulled the house."
He was out of bed and had partially dressed. "Confound
that bell; do they think we are dead?"
"Pulled the house," Estella repeated to herself. "Now
I wonder what that means? Can it be fire?" She too
got up.
At the door, Joel was in earnest conversation with
some one. He looked around and saw Estella coming
toward him.
"Go back to bed, Stell, the house isn t afire; but
Madame wants to see me ; must be something the matter
at home." And he was gone.
"Do you want to keep that plaything of yours ?" was
Madame s first question.
"Want to keep her? Of course, I do. If I didn t,
do you suppose I d have let you milk me all this time ?"
"Well, if you want her, it s up to you to get her
away from here before daylight. It s after 12 now, and
her folks are in town and Pagan s afraid, so if you want
her, you must pay up and get her out."
"But great snakes, Vaughn, I can t get her out be
fore daylight. Hell s fire, I ve been rigging her with
A COUNTRYMAN HELD UP 2O3
the yarn that you wouldn t let her out of your sight for
a month."
"Tell her I have a tip that the police are going to
make a raid on the house early in the morning, and out
of regard for her, I want you to take her to some safe
place."
"That s the cheese, Vaughn, great head, eh? Say,
you can trust me for whatever balance is due, can t
you?" Madame nodded. "I ll need all I ve got with
me, to see this thing through."
In Estella s room, Joel explained about the forth
coming raid, and how he could never risk having her,
his precious darling, found in such a place, and even
Madame felt the same. Estella was soon ready for flight
and in her hurry and excitement, forgot even her friend,
the only one she had found at Madame s, and at I
o clock she was being whirled down town and to one
of the great depots, thence on an early train to a small
city in a neighboring state. Arrived at which place,
James Y. Johnson and wife registered and went to their
room.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
MICKEY S RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE.
Down through the long, soot-blackened shops an
army of workers dropped their tools and scudded away
to seek their dinner pails, the measure of America s
prosperity tis said, before the noon whistle had ceased
its clamor.
Out on the shady side of the casting shop Mickey
and Charley found a snug corner and sat down to
gether.
"Well, Mickey," Charley bantered, "have you got
that religion we were talking about the other day?"
"Nixie, not fer mine." The cripple looked up scowl
ing, his complement of teeth fastened in a tough hunk
of beef. As he pulled, the scowl spread. "You see.
Country," he explained, when he had finally swallowed
the severed chunk at a gulp, "dem four-flushers out at
de meetin says as how a man kin be good all de time,
commencin fore breakfas an* never lettin up on de
graft till he s sound asleep, an it Stan s f reason dey s
liars."
"Tut, tut, Mickey! You don t know what you are
talking about," the other objected, "my mother s a Chris
tian, and a good one."
"Did de old lady pass any ov de dope along t
youse?" the boy inquired, scrutinizing his companion
gravely.
Charley smiled, and was about to reply, when
Mickey broke in with:
"Chuck it, Country. Youse maybe knows a heap
more bout some things dan I does, but youse don t
know how t tip off nothin in de mertropolis, an dat s
flat. Dem gospel mills out in de country where dey
ain t no great sight ov nothin layin round loose, an no
bulls t made de game excitin , an no mollies t help
a feller blow de cush, may be on de level dat ain t
204
MICKEY S RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 205
de city, an de city s differ enter, an don t never let dat
git outen yer nut see?"
"But I don t see how it is different, and besides "
"Now youse s tellin it! Youse don t see, an it s
all in usin dese peepers. Ain t I bin born here? An
ain t I bin up against all de games on de street? Well,
den. Say I jist took t dem gospel meetin s out t de
mission, as youse so kindly asks me t attend t , fer a
whole week straight. Missed seem a bang-up ballet
an a hooker ov a Jessy James show, an passed up de
Wild West layout, all t accommodate me frien from
de country an say, I m a givin it t youse straight
when I says I m damned sorry I didn t go t th shows
an let dem sky pilots alone. Are youse wise?"
A very lame "No" was all the surprised champion
of regeneration could muster. That little "no" served
to open the vials of Mickey s long suppressed wrath.
"No, Bourse youse don t. W T hat did them high-
collared, baby fingered fellers an der sister mollies tell
me th first night I goes out t th mission ?" He paused
to gather up the thread of his story.
"Why, dey says cast yer bread on th waters an
she ll come back t youse give yer dollars t th Lord
an dem gents was a leggin direct fer him fer they took
th coin an youse is sure t git it back ten fold. When
I hears that I says, I m in on this here game ef I ve
got it doped out right; so I jist nudges a plump old
pussy as set by me, an asks what dat gittin back ten
fold as dey wais work in off means. She says th Lord
pays back ten fer one. That tip suited me t a T,
an I plumps a dollar in, an when de dealer sees what
I dropped in th basket, he up an inquires how much
change I wants youse kin take it frum me, I give
him th glassy eye. I hain t no piker, I tells him, an
he lays his nice baby hand on me nut, an kind ov slob
bers out, God bless youse, God bless youse. Now I
calkalate youse hain t a goin t b leve me when I tells
youse dat whole darned gospel game is a skin, an
they ve got th bull on de beat fixed, all right, all right.
I ain t goin t git back nary red [cent I put inter de
game, an I dropped three bucks, an waited till th last
night fer th drawin t come off.
"Last night that same feller comes around lookin
206 MILLS OF MAMMON
fer more of th mazuma a givin us his little spiel bout
castin bread on th water, an a lendin money t th
Lord. I d gone de limit, so I up an asks dem when
th drawings t come off an what d youse spose they
has th* nerve t tell me? Me, as thought I d bin up
agircst all de games in de city." Mickey stood before
his audience of one deeply interested and somewhat puz
zled listener with clinched fists and blazing eyes.
"Well," Charley hesitated, "I hardly know what they
could have told you/
"Course youse don t, but I ll tell yer, on th level,
Country, ef youse don t know no more about other
games dan youse does bout dis gospel business in de
mertropolis, I d advise youse not t recommend none ov
em t any more ov yer city friends, dat s all."
"I won t, Mickey, I won t," Charley promised, and
then asked, "What did they tell you?"
"Tell me? Why dey had de nerve t tell me me,
Mickey Dougherty, dat I d git me ten t one when I
got t heaven. Now what d youse think ov dat fer
pure gall? I wanted t have de whole bunch pulled,
but de bull s bin fixed all right, all right; fer he says t
me when I tells him as I ve bin flim-flammed by some
sky pilots as was runnin a skin game, Go chase yer-
self, me little rooster, r I ll run youse in/ J: At the
close of his speech Mickey sat down and attacked his
dinner with renewed vigor, while Charley sat think
ing.
Charley Harris liked the cripple because of his
straightforwardness, his avowed friendship, and the
many little big-hearted things he was capable of putting
through for his friends. If the whole truth must be
told he liked him as well for his sturdy defense of his
philosophy of life, even if it did hold to the ugly, twisted
ethics of the semi-criminal world in which the boy had
been chained since birth. On one point his mind was
made up quickly. Turning to Mickey he said:
"Mickey, since I recommended the game guaran
teed it, you might say I feel in duty bound to see that
none of my friends lose money." He reached into a
pocket and drew out a handful of silver. "Let s see;
you put up three dollars," he had to smile at the look
of perplexity on Mickey s face, "and while I can t make
MICKEY S RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 207
good that gospel outfit s promise of ten to one, I am
willing to put up five dollars to "
"No youse don t," the cripple interposed, "I ain t no
welsher, Country. I took de tip an played it on me
own dope, an I don t want "
"Here, you young limb of Satan, take the money,
it belongs to you." Charley reached over as he spoke
and dumped the silver into Mickey s dinner pail. "Just
to hear your experience in your first attempt to get
religion is worth that much to me," he added, and as
Mickey still showed signs of rebellion, he went on,
"Mickey, old man, I want you for a friend; between
friends a money debt should never stand for a moment
longer than is absolutely necessary and I owed you
that five-spot as much as though I had borrowed it
from you."
A grimy, greasy hand was held out, and as Charley
grasped it Mickey whispered hoarsely, "Country, youse
is white, an I m goin t call youse Charley like th rest
ov th gang does."
Charley laughed, and Mickey made good in his next
speech.
"On de level, Co Charley, I didn t give up de
gospel jist becos dem guys was a runnin a con game
on de money end ov de biz. Youse see, it s dis way:
I knows dey s lots ov hold-outs in all de games, an
dey s some dat s square, an ef de rest ov de gospel game
had a bin on de level why shucks ! I d a hunted up
a square game an played me coin, but de whole works
is rotten."
"How s that?" Charley asked.
"Why dis way : De main guy says all anybody frum
a molly t a porchclimber has got ter do is t say, I ve
foun Jesus, r some sich magic biz as dat, an to oncet
all de sins dey ever did is washed away. Now youse
kin take it frum me dat I carried dat aroun in me nut
till de load hurt frightful. Yes, sir, I carried dat fer
three days an nights fore I chucked it. Why, tain t
reasonable t spose dey s anybody as is runnin sich a
bargain counter up to heaven, an it ain t no square
deal no how. Fer why, here s me an I ain t had no
body t put me wise t dis bargain counter biz till youse
comes an butts in an ef de thing s on de level, an 5
208 MILLS OF MAMMON
they ain t no other way ov my gettin inter heaven cept
I goes through de gospel mill why, ef I d a croaked
last month, r when I was hurt dat time, wouldn t I a
gone plump t hell? An ef I d gone t that bargain sale
an got religion an hollered I ve got it! I ve got it-
like I hears them a whoopin it up out dere, an didn t
have t make good t all de folks what I swiped things
frum, an lied to, an so forth, seems t me de thing
wouldn t wash. Jist seems that there way t me. Seems
t me God ud say, Youse is a purty cheap skate, son,
seems that there way t me. But one ov dem singin
fellers made it plain dat all a guy has ter do t git right
in a front row in their heaven is t fess up. Jist fess
up, an God ud let de meanest cuss in Chi crowd right
up t de desk an begin singin ."
"In the name of all the saints, what sort of a crowd
did you get into?" Charley demanded, and inwardly re
solved to go out and see for himself.
"They was mostly batty, Cou Charley, an three of
dem old bats jist did deir turn de night I puts in me
second buck why, one ov dem had killed his wife by
inches. He says so hisself, an dey ain t nobody a*
givin him th third degree, neither, it was most as
good as a play. The next cuss as comes out had blast-
feemed, whatever dat is, an had robbed a sick pard ov
hisn ov thousands ov dollars in a minin deal, an dem
galoots never did have t make good t nobody but God.
Nixie fer deirs ! All any ov dem had t do was t say,
Jesus, I b leve, r some sich rot as dat, an all deir
cussed doin s was washed away in de twinklin ov a
eye an God s eye at dat.
"When dey gits all through a spoutin an dem sis
ters has quit amenin an shakin dem bats mitts, an
things gits still I up an asks de one as robbed his pard
ef th pard was alive. He gits up an says, a-turnin
to them sisters: Dear sisters an brothers, he s alive
t th flesh but dead t God. He s still in sin, an hasn t
found th blood of Christ a balm t his soul, r some
sich flummydiddle as dat.
"Then I asks, fer I was interested, an besides I
had money in de game I says : Mister, when youse
got religion in your soul did youse pay dat pard th
money youse stole frum him? Youse ought t have
MICKEY S RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 209
seen dem old mollies turn up deir noses at me. An he
says, No, me young frien , I didn t need t do dat, fer
God fergived de debt. Say/ I asks him, Mid God
really an truly pass him th coin ? "
"Say, Mickey, what are you giving me? You didn t
butt in on those gospel people like that, did you?"
Charley asked, smiling.
"Sure t ing I did. Ain t I got me money on de
game ? An , you d never b leve it less n I told youse, dat
geezer as robbed his pard tries t make out he don t
know nothin bout what I m a-tryin to pass t him
till a old mollie puts it t him straight, an den he says
to me, No, me brother, God does not handle th filthy
lucre, an so far as me poor sin-cussed pard s con-
sarned, I m fraid his portion in th life beyond th
grave ll be in th lake ov fire/ an th dirty welsher
begins t leak somethin dreadful.
"I up an asks quick as a wink, Say, Mister Whats-
yername, don t youse think now dat youse is bin put wise
t de gospel game, ef youse was ter take th money
youse smouched frum yer pard, an jist handed it t
him, an den told him bout this here new deal, dat he d
take de tip? "
"He was plum beat out, Charley, an I d a had de
count on him in no time but some ov dem old hen sis
ters who s gone soft on his nibs begins t sing Jesus, He
Paid it All/ an th guy gits his wind an stands there
a-pattin his hands an a-smilin t dem mollies as fixed
it fer him. But I just stood dere a-waitin fer th next
round, even ef dey did try t call me down.
"When dem old hens quits a-cacklin long nuff t
give him a chanst he hes his story all fixed, an turns
t me an says, Th song tells th whole story, me young
frien Jesus paid it all all t him I owes sin had left
a grimy stain but she s washed witer n snow/ an* a lot
ov slush like dat.
"When I goes fer him hard an wants t know
things, he says it don t make no kind ov diff rence what
a bloke has done murder, steal, lie, any ole thing
goes. He don t have t square hisself with nobody fer
nothin . An jist as soon as he s got deir kind ov re
ligion he s good fer a scalper s ticket straight t heaven.
Den ef th poor cuss he stole frum an lied to r did
2IO MILLS OF MAMMON
anything like a thousan other devlish, low-down, mean
things to, still stays mad an wants a square deal, wants
this here religious bloke t do th square thing by him
on this here earth why, it s th feller as wants de square
deal as goes plump t hell, an th welsher goes t
heaven. An th times dey has up dere! Nuttin t do
but prance round in circus close, an eat an sing, an*
drink milk outen a river dat flows right by de captain s
desk say, deys got a warm pipe, all right, all right."
Mickey got up, carefully, placed a battered lid on an
equally battered dinner pail and looked off into the blue
as he added:
"Dem gosple folks takes dope, an I wouldn t be
s prised ef dey was pulled fer hittin th pipe one ov
dese here days dey s nuttin to it. Youse may hev
nuther kind ov religion in de country, but it stan s t
reason dat dey hain t no God whose goin t send the
feller as has bin robbed an had other things done t
him t hell, an give th robber, an murderer a nice
easy graft in heaven, jist cause he blubbers a few min
utes an saddles all his cussedness off onto Jesus Christ
why, I ain t God, an I ll be damned ef Mickey
Dougherty ud put up with sich a gummy mess ov
welshers an four-flushers as dem people is. Bet yer
life, I wouldn t! Ef I was God I d say, Here, youse
reprobates, fore youse gits t prancin round a-tellin
what all I m a-goin t do for youse, youse git out an
square up with dem as youse robbed an murdered an
things. Bet yer life I d make em hit de grit, an as
they went down th line I d give em me toe an tell
em I wasn t runnin no bargain counters fer blokes ov
deir kidney; dem is things Mickey Dougherty d do ef
he was God."
Then the whistle blew.
CHAPTER XXIX.
A WORKER S DEATH.
The throb and hum of systematized industry in the
long .casting room at Holdon s was at full tide when
something went wrong with the head-block on one of
the great side cranes. A mass of molten metal in "No.
i" was ready to be drawn, and the cable was found to
be caught in the block, thus preventing the swinging of
the big ladle to receive its charge. The foreman, almost
beside himself, in an emergency that threatened both
danger to the men and the loss of the charge as well,
ordered the electric traveling crane brought down from
the other end of the long building. At the same time
he ordered the mast of the side crane thrown over close
to the girder that carried the traveling crane, in order
that a workman might get at the head-block after being
carried up on the electric crane.
As the crane came down the shop on its two broad
tracks, Price happened to look in, and seeing all the men
at "No. I," together with some of the other employes
in that end of the shop standing idle, he rushed in and
demanded of the foreman at "No. i" what he was do
ing. The oath that accompanied the superintendent s
question caused an ugly look to settle over Williams
face, and he did not lift his eyes as he gave the in
formation asked for.
"Here," Price shouted, beckoning one of the men.
"You, Johnson. Come, be lively. Get hold of that
chain and when he pulls you up high enough crawl
through the cage and out over the track, and see what s
the matter with the cursed thing. Hurry !"
Johnson had no sooner caught the chain and gotten
his foot in the loop he had formed for it, than Price
gave the signal to hoist, and the worker was on his
way to the girder above.
Clambering up through the cage he made his way
211
212 MILLS OF MAMMON
over the trucks of the crane, and perched upon the track
was soon at work getting the cable back into its groove.
He was probably two minutes at the job when Price,
fuming at the delay this mishap was causing, bellowed
an ill-sounding name at him and advised him to hurry.
The superintendent s lips had hardly formed the last
brutal word, when Johnson signaled Williams that the
job was finished, and the next instant was crawling over
the trucks of the great crane.
The operator in his cage under the crane could not
see the man above as he swung himself past the for
ward wheels of the truck, so when Price gave him a
signal to move the crane back he threw on the current.
Instantly there came to the ears of the workers a scream
of agony, and as they looked up Johnson was seen strug
gling between the trucks. The operator threw off the
current and stood with blanched cheeks and trembling
body looking at Price for orders.
When caught between the trucks Johnson had fallen
face down. His legs lay across the track ; his body
supported by his hold upon a brace rod he had caught as
he fell. W T hen the men below looked up at his first cry
they were quick to see his perilous position and called
out to him to hold on.
"My God, my God 1" he kept crying, while his blood
streamed down from the girder and formed a little pud
dle on the hard packed clay floor. The men looking up
into his staring eyes, shuddered as they saw him shaken
with pain saw his struggles to release his right leg
from the crushing weight of the truck. Charley Harris
and Mickey had quitted their work and rushed down to
the furnace at the first agonized cry.
Coming up behind the superintendent, Charley
touched him on the arm and asked: "Why isn t some
une sent up to help him?"
Price turned, scowling, and throwing up his hand
demanded to know who in hell was running the plant.
The operator understood his motion to mean that he
\vas to go ahead, and with shaking nerves turned on the
current.
The crunching of bone under tons of steel, and the
cry of a human soul in torment answered Price s ques
tion as Johnson s body came plunging down head first,
::: :
A WORKER S DEATH 213
a clear fall of twenty feet. In unison with the impact
of the worker s body on the hard floor a groan went up
from the throats of a hundred men.
A moment of silence, save for the footfalls of run
ning men, fell upon those within sight of the tragedy.
The maimed form lying at Charley s feet did not move.
He fell upon his knees as one of the men brought the
legs, which had fallen a little distance from the body,
and pulled Johnson s head around until he could see
his face, while Mickey, crouched by the body of the man
who had been his friend, looked squarely into the eyes
of the man he believed was responsible for the death
of the worker.
"Well?" Price uttered this one word, a question.
Charley, looking up, answered: "Dead," and began
straightening the body out, but paused as he heard Price
shouting at the men who had crowded up from all parts
of the shop:
"What do you men think this is, a holiday? Get
back to your work, all of you. Get back, I say!"
"I can git back quick enough without you putting
your hands on me," a burly moulder protested as Price
pushed him back. The men were moving back slowly
when Price turned to Charley:
"Get up from there and go back to your job," he
ordered, curtly.
"But some one ought to stay with him the coro
ner," Charley insisted, and was interrupted by the super
intendent.
"Coroner be blowed." Noting that Charley seemed
unconvinced, he proceeded to enlarge upon the theme.
"No sniveling coroner s jury gets to sit on this case.
And, my man, my advice to you is to forget it ; do you
understand ?"
"No, we don t want no coroner s jury on dis here
case," Mickey s shrill voice piped up. "Not when Mick
ey Dougherty d swear de supe killed him. No, we don t
want no "
"What s that, you young devil?" Price panted, as he
made an effort to put hands on the cripple.
Safe at the feet of the dead man Mickey replied:
"Jist what I sed, d youse hear me! Youse killed him,
an dese rfbre men knows it." The cripple had taken
214 MILLS OF MAMMON
his e>es off the superintendent for an instant as he
waved a hand toward the men. In that instant Price
had cleared the body at a single bound, and before any
one of the men could interfere, had knocked the boy
down and was kicking him viciously, when Charley,
with an oath, his first in many months, pulled Price
away from the boy. By this time the workers were
crowding back to the scene of the morning s tragedy,
and among them came the big moulder who had objected
to being pushed back but a few minutes before. When
he saw the boy lying motionless on the floor, he pushed
his way through the crowd until he stood in front of
the superintendent. There was murder in his eyes; a
twitching of the muscles that held his jaws set; his
great hands drawn into knots; the swelling muscles of
his arms showing in ridges under the skin, and a hun
ger in him for the blood of the man a wise providence
had given him as a task master. Price caught that look
and did not resist when Charley pushed him out through
the crowd and toward a side door.
In the meantime some of the men had taken Mickey
out, and as Charley and Price came through the door
way the first thing they saw was the little group of men
about the cripple. Price had gotten his nerve back by
this time, so, shaking off the hold Charley had kept upon
him, he went over to the group. Pushing one of the
men aside he bent over the boy.
Quick as a flash Mickey s two hands went up; one
caught Price by the hair, while the nails of the other
were drawn down over the superintendent s face, tearing
the skin and bringing blood in streams. With a bellow
of rage and pain Price straightened up, bringing the
boy with him.
A dozen men, Charley amongst them, interfered, and
Mickey, his hold broken, went limp as a rag and was
tenderly laid upon the ground. Three of the men had
Price by the arms, holding him back from the boy, when
Carson, the big moulder, pushed his way into the fray
once more, and, pointing toward the office, said to Price :
"You better move along, mister man you can fire
rne to-morrow, but if you ain t out of my sight in two
215
minutes, I ll give you what you gave Johnson, damn
you."
The men dropped their hold upon the superintend
ent s arms, stepped back and waited for the fight. Price
took one swift look at the moulder, and turning on his
heel started for the office.
Til make it hot for you all of you," was his part
ing shot, as he moved off, sopping up the blood from his
face in a handkerchief.
Moran, the foreman under whom both Charley and
Mickey worked, had seen the whole of the trouble. As
Price left he came out of the shop and after examining
Mickey, turned to the men.
"Go back to your work, men," he called out, and add
ed, "none of you need be afraid of trouble from the
office if you let things drop where they are."
As the men went back to their tasks, one red-headed
fellow laughed. "Bet yer life they won t stir a bad
mess. Old Holdon couldn t find another such stinker
as Price if he hunted hell over with a fine-toothed
comb."
"Yes, and Price couldn t stay a day if they let this
killing be looked into," another observed.
One of the men who worked on Mickey s shift
picked up his shovel, jammed it into a sand pile, spit on
his hands, and, as he lifted the shovel of sand, chuckled :
"God, but Mickey s got th nerve. Didn t he play that
just right?"
"Yes," said Carson, "and if that low-lived hound
so much as puts a finger on him again I ll smash him if
it s the last day s work I do in th world."
The man at the shovel looked up, nodded approval,
and went on filling his flask.
Outside Moran was saying to Charley Harris: "I
guess you had better stay with him until he s able to
navigate He s a game little cuss always was willing
to fight anything in the shops but I never thought he d
be game enough t put his mark on Price, though they s
been bad blood between them for a long time."
When Moran had gone into the shop Charley went
back to the cripple and asked him how he was coming.
"I se all stoved in, Charley; but I guess they hain t
nothing serious dat s broke. Darn his dirty picter! I
2l6 MILLS OF MAMMON
hain t even yet." He rolled over on his side. "It hurts
where he kicked me in th slats, when I was down," he
observed, screwing his face up to take the edge off the
pain.
As Charley sat on the grass beside him wondering
what was to happen next, the thought came to him that
he had been in a sort of maze from the very beginning
of the trouble, all of it seemed wrong, not one of the
men had acted as he had been taught men should act
in such an emergency. The brutality of Price Mick
ey s grit Carson s bull-dog jaws the sheeplike docil
ity of the men his own shortcomings the white- faced
operator the death cry of the tortured man the drip
ping blood the inhumanity of it all it was all sicken-
ingly, disgustingly, wholly unbelievable to one who had
not experienced it. And a nightmare of uncertainties
to one who had witnessed it. Johnson s death had re
sulted, as he believed, from Price s or the crane oper
ator s blunder or both. He also felt that Mickey s
charge that Price had killed Johnson, while it was a bit
hasty, still had something of reason behind it, and that
thought coupled with a remembrance of the superintend
ent s callousness, and his evident reluctance to have any
thing like an investigation into the tragedy of the
morning, all served to puzzle him. Neither could he
understand the men. Johnson s companions, the men
upon his job, not one of them but had gone back to his
work without a backward look when Price had ordered
them to go, adding oaths to his insulting speech what
sort of men were they? Only one man s part in the
whole affair appealed to him that man was Carson,
the big moulder. As he thought how Carson s great
hands twifched, how white his lips were, and how hard
and steady his eyes gleamed and glinted as he pushed
his way up to the superintendent, he sighed yes, if
he had it to over again he would let Carson half kill
the brute.
Looking down at Mickey, whose old man s face was
twisted into an ugly scowl, Charley told himself there
was but little comfort to the peacemaker who inter-
fered in a man s fight, and especially when he didn t
know the first rule of the game.
CHAPTER XXX.
HOLDON GIVES ADVICE.
Wherever one goes in our industro-social life he
comes face to face with the one great fact developed
by our nineteenth and twentieth century grabble for
dollars the fact that the more one struggles for con
trol of things material the less confidence he will have
in the honor and integrity of his fellow men. To be
come rich is to lose respect for the old-time sense of
honor that once held men to plighted word, even to
death. To-day the citizen who measures his wealth by
six figures or more hires detectives to watch over his
precious life.
Find two employers who trust each other to-day;
then leave them to the exigencies of the struggle; go
back in ten years and find but one employer ; this is the
history of our industrial growth. The employer who
has disappeared has been over-reached. The man who
has the business is the one who refused to be ruled by
word of honor.
A perfected spy system is growing up to meet the
demand for men to watch these other men whom we
distrust. A jealous spouse hires a private detective. A
captain of industry hires a whole detective agency. An
employer of labor calls for assistance from a union spy
furnisher, and gets a number of men who commit per
jury in order that the employer may know what his
workmen do in their secret (?) meetings. A railway
employs spotters to protect its dividends from the in
roads of conductors and other worthy employes who
believe it no crime to "swipe" things and money from
a railway. In every shop, factory, mill, or other in
dustrial gathering together of labor we find the cheap
lickspittle, who carries tales from the job to the boss,
and by so doing gains a short-lived opportunity to
bask in the purchased smiles of the employer.
217
2l8 MILLS OF MAMMON
Johnson s body had hardly ceased quivering when
the news had reached Holdon as he sat in his office
intent upon the morning paper. Holdon did not care
to make a personal investigation, but he did not think
it good policy to have the body left in sight of the men
for too long a time. After waiting some time for
Price to report, he took up the telephone, and calling
up the yard boss, instructed him to take three men and
remove the body to a tool house at the back of the
plant.
The laborers were carrying their burden away when
Carson ordered Price to move on. When the superin
tendent complied with that none too gentle request he
had no intention of allowing the office force to see him
until he had been patched up a bit. He sneaked into
his office by the back way and busied himself with water
and court-plaster. For every look in the mirror his
anger grew. When he had in a measure Covered the
worst of the smarting scratches he called up Moran
and ordered him to discharge Carson, Harris, and even
the cripple. As he took the receiver from his ear
Moran was asking him to wait a minute. The minute
was long, and at the end of it came this laconic mes
sage from the foreman:
"I won t fire the men until I hear from you again
you may change your mind after you ve seen the old
man he s been asking for you says keep everything
quiet."
Price was furious, thinking Moran had reported to
Holdon. He was about to insist that the men be dis
charged forthwith, when a clerk began pounding upon
his door.
What s wanted now?" he demanded.
"Mr. Holdon wants to see you."
"Tell him I ve got to go downtown at once. I
,can t "
"But he said AT ONCE," the clerk shouted from the
other side of the locked door. Even Price knew that
Holdon s "AT ONCE" would never be discounted by
a hired man but once, even though he held the office
of superintendent. He hung up the receiver, satisfied
the clerk that he would attend, took another look at
his patched face, swore he would have satisfaction out
HOLDON GIVES ADVICE 219
of the three hands at fault, and started for the presi
dent s office.
Between his office and that of the president all of
the office force that could do so took a good look at the
superintendent, offering another illustration of the spy
system. Practically every man and woman in the office
had been informed that some one out in the "works"
had whipped the superintendent Some had him half
killed, others told how a number of the men had pound
ed him, and all had the story in one form or another.
Yes, they knew a man had been killed, but that was a
much more common occurrence than the pummeling of
a superintendent, consequently the story of the killing
did not produce even a ripple, while the lesser tragedy
filled the office with excitement.
"Well, you ve been in an accident, have you?" was
Holdon s greeting as Price entered the office. As he
asked the question Holdon turned to Moses and inti
mated that his presence, could be dispensed with.
"Yes, something of an accident," Price answered as
he took a chair, "but I fancy the three men I ordered
Moran to fire will not be so ready for accidents in the
future."
"Whom did you discharge?"
"Why, the three who caused all the trouble Harris,
Carson, and that little devil of a cripple." Price had
gotten to his feet and was gesticulating with some show
of temper, when Holdon said:
"Sit down, sit down, Price, you are either too angry
or too excited over this matter." After a moment of
silence he went on: "They tell me Mickey gave you
those scratches."
"Yes, and by I ll half kill him when I catch
him outside. I don t care if he is a cripple," Price
stormed out.
Holdon had reached for the phone. As he took
down the receiver he remarked: "I don t think you
are in just the right mood to deal with men, besides,
Johnson s death is the fourth within two weeks, and if
those men are discharged to-day, especially after your
little set-to with them, there ll be hell to pay as soon as
they can get to the right folks with their story.
He turned to the phone. "Give me Moran, please,"
22O MILLS OF MAMMON
he called, and looking squarely at Price asked: "Did
the three men you ordered Moran to discharge see
Johnson killed?""
Price nodded assent.
"That being the case, don t you think you had best
tell Moran you were a little hasty, and for him not to
say anything to the men?" It was put in form of a
question, but Price understood it as a command. Flush
ing to the roots of his hair, he reached over, and tak
ing the instrument off Holdon s desk, stammered out
the will of the master touching the men when Moran
answered the call.
He had taken his seat again in none too good
humor, when Holdon surprised him by saying:
"Price, I gave you credit for a lot more sense than
you have shown in handling this affair." Price at
tempted to justify his conduct, but Holdon waved it
aside. "Nonsense, man, I tell you you lost your head,
and I am more put out by it than you can think, for
I intended to leave the business in your hands entirely."
Price looked up, then down, biting his lips in vexation.
"Yes," Holdon went on, "I had expected to go to
Europe within two months, but "
"It will all blow over sooner than that," Price ven
tured.
"Yes, this incident will, but how about the next
one?"
"The next one won t happen," the superintendent
announced confidently. "You see, I had the Johnson
accident on my nerves, and with the interference of that
young Harris, and the cripple s blurting out that I d
murdered Johnson well, I did lose my head but you
must remember I wasn t at the head of the plant you
want to consider that, Mr. Holdon." Holdon nodded
and Price continued his explanation. "It was enough
to rattle any one, and the three who brought on the
after trouble can be gotten rid of one at a time as
soon as you think it safe, then we won t need to fear
another such exhibition."
"Mickey stays," Holdon interrupted at this point,
"and as for Harris, I want you to get to be the best
friend he has in the world." At Price s look of as
tonishment the magnate chuckled. "Yes, sir, his best
HOLDON GIVES ADVICE 221
friend. Why, man, he s got a machine an automotic
moulder and it s worth a million. I want you to get
next to it, and trust me for the rest. Yes, sir, you want
to see him to-day before he gets time to think things
over and get set against you. Tell him you are sorry
sorry over the whole business, Johnson s death and all
the rest of it and you can t make yourself too sorry if
you know what s good for you."
"Well, I ll be darned! That country kid? Are you
sure?"
"Did you ever know me to be anything other than
sure?" Holdon asked, a self-satisfied smile lighting up
his face. "I ve had him in here three times and had a
man with him nearly every evening for a month yes,
I m sure." Price whistled, and smiled his worship of
the superior man.
"Then about Mickey we will just have to put up
with him; and my advice would be to let him alone."
"I don t know but it s impertinent," Price qualified,
"but I d like to know "
"Know why Mickey s to stay?" Price nodded,
"Well, it s this way: my wife and *Bee were down
here the afternoon Mickey got hurt. No. i* blew out;
we had some green hands on, and I guess they over
charged her. Wife and Bee were just entering the
foundry when the thing happened. Mickey was the
first one they saw carried out and the last one, too, I
guess." He looked up at Price as he paced back and
forth. "You know how women are," he continued,
"they were both badly frightened, and the boy was in
a bad way. To make a short story of it, my wife
never recovered from the shock, not in all the years,
and when she was dying her last thought was for the
crippled little Irishman. Somehow she got hold of the
story that the nine deaths that day were due to the
fact that I had locked out my old men and was trying
to run the plant with a lot of bums and pickups she
never forgave me."
Price sat down and Holdon remained silent, look
ing out across the stretch of prairie seen through the
window. "I promised her that so long as I controlled
here Mickey should have a job and it wasn t a bad
bargain." He got up, and after drumming on the win-
222 MILLS OF MAMMON
dow for a minute, turned to the superintendent. "I
don t like to look at him he s a constant reminder that
had I given in to the men that time my wife might
be with me to-day."
Price bowed his head in silence, and Holdon, after
fumbling among his papers for a time, said: "As to
the other man, Carson, I think you said, I don t believe
we should discharge him either. He s been with us
a long time and isn t too old. He s industrious, a splen
did workman, and, besides, he is safe not a bit of
unionism or Socialism about him. He owns a little
home, and that cinches him. Take him all around, he
is a man to tie to in case of trouble." He paused as
though expecting the superintendent to reply, but as
he seemed loath to do so resumed: "My advice would
be for you to fix things with Harris better get him
into your office and be good and sorry it will pay
you. Then come to me."
"Very well." Price managed to get these words out
before he got to the door, but they came hard.
"And forget the other two," he heard as he started
out between the rows of desks, where, by the magic
art of tale building, the story regarding his encounter
in the shop had grown considerable since he passed
that way before.
The day after the killing neither Charley nor Mickey
appeared at the works, and that fact was known to
Holdon at eight-thirty, just five minutes after he en
tered his office. Price was sent for, but could throw
no light on the subject. Then a messenger was sent
post-haste to Mickey s address with orders to phone
the office if he succeeded in locating either of the miss
ing men.
Holdon was not in an overly good humor with his
superintendent, and showed it. There was a chance
that the men had gone to enter complaint with the city
authorities. There had been a number of deaths in the
big plant within the month and none of them had been
reported as the law required. Besides, two of the men.
who had been known to be friendless foreigners, had
been buried inside the company s grounds to save ex
penses and possible suits which might have been in
stituted by hungry lawyers. This had been Johnson s
HOLDON GIVES ADVICE 223
fate, and Holdon knew it. He also knew it would be
exceedingly awkward if the authorities should demand
that the company produce his remains, for it was very
doubtful whether the half-drunken negroes had been
over careful in the execution of their grewsome task
the night before.
From contemplating possibilities, Holdon turned to
Price.
"What did they do with Johnson?" he asked.
The superintendent had been thinking of possibilities
also, and turned uneasily in his chair. It took two
efforts to get his throat cleared before he attempted an
answer.
"Why, after I left you yesterday Madden came in
and wanted to know what to do with him, saying there
wasn t any friends to look after the body, so I told
him to do the same as he had with Brootsky." (Broot-
sky had been disposed of two weeks prior to John
son s taking off.)
"Has he reported to you this morning?" Holdon
demanded.
"No, I suppose he thought there was no use to re
port he never has
The telephone bell.
"You, Tracey?" "Yes both there? Why didn t
they report this morning? Not feeling well? all
right."
"There, that s off my mind," with a smile, the mag
nate turned from the phone.
"Price, did you see Harris yesterday," he inquired,
then added, "Oh, I forgot that you might be interested
in knowing that those two friends of yours are safe.
They will report for work as soon as Mr. Mickey is
fit to scratch again."
Price was too well pleased to learn that they were
not looking for officers to investigate the Johnson mat
ter to take exception to the magnate s banter, so smiled
a sickly smile as he answered that he had not seen
Harris for the very good reason that he had gone home
with Mickey.
* # # * * #
What did they do with Johnson?
There is a little flaxen-headed woman on the way
224 MILLS OF MAMMON
from Sweden who one of these days would give her
very life for the answer to that question. Yes, her life.
And it is about all she has to give. She has but little
more than enough money to pay her way across. What
did they do with Johnson? Big-hearted John. He left
her to try his fortune in the Great Nation the famed
home of brave men a country all free. He told her
for the hundredth time as her tears fell at thought of
parting :
"Hilda, you are one little goose. Will you not see,
in that Great Land a man may have a chance such a
chance ! And it is only for so little a time, my loved
one; only so little a time. Soon I shall send for you.
Then we shall be Americans. Think of that, Hilda,
and dry those sweet, pretty eyes; we shall be Ameri
cans !"
She is coming. How many Hildas have come to our
shores? How many more are to come while the wheels
in the Mills of Mammon grind out their grist from be
tween great iron burrs that crush, and crush, and crush
and always hunger for more, and more, and more?
How many more are to come as she comes, while cor
porations defy the law, rob the dead and living alike,
burn, maim, cripple, debauch ; wantonly, uselessly, con
tinuously.
She is coming. Will the great gates of the Holdon
Company swing open for her, that she may find some
of her lover s comrades who may tell her of him ? Will
its office force be instructed to assist her in her search
for the man who promised to make her an American?
No, no, no, a thousand times no. A hooting mob of
young hoodlums will cry their senseless drivel after
her in the streets as she turns away from the gates.
A nation will look on coldly at the anguish of a broken
hearted little foreign-born sister of ours, as she takes
her way into our grand, free, fair, square life.
Why should this little flaxen-headed woman with
out money or friends be shown consideration by an
American corporation, when men who have families liv
ing almost at the gates give up their lives or writhe in
agony after one of the "accidents" incident ^ to our
hurry-for-dollars. life-be-damned system, while their
loved ones are denied the right to see the sufferer, or
HOLDON GIVES ADVICE 22$
know the truth as to his injury, until a company doc
tor and a company claim adjuster have had their way
with the helpless, tortured, broken victim? What right-
can this little flaxen-headed woman from a far land
have to knock upon the gates of the Holdon Company s
plant when the police of a great city stand without the
walls mocking good citizens of the republic as they in
sist that they have a right to go to friend or kindred in
agony behind those gates?
She is coming. Will some soft-skinned, smooth-voiced
seeker after worlds to come tell me : Is our modernized
HELL hot enough for the proper reception of the gen
tlemen who will turn her away from the great gates
of the Holdon Company?
Who will tell her the truth? Who knows?
Three drunken negroes were paid five dollars to
bury a gunnysack at the back of the Holdon Plant last
night.
CHAPTER XXXI.
MICKEY INTRODUCES HIS FRIENDS.
Mickey and Charley enjoyed a two days vacation
before the former felt able to venture back to the works
of the Holdon Company.
During that time Charley spent most of his time
with Mickey, and they discussed a number of topics,
several of which we shall touch upon in this chapter.
One topic that never lost interest for Mickey was Price.
Charley, in the interests of peace, tried his best to get
the cripple to admit that he might be mistaken in his
estimate of the superintendent; an estimate summed up
in the title of "Stinker" the boy bestowed upon his late
antagonist.
"Nixie fer me, Charley," Mickey had insisted when
pressed, "it won t go down. Youse don t b leve none
ov it yerself. Youse knows it s bull con, an de only
reason youse dopes it out t me is cause youse .is afraid
I ll get inter trouble again. I m dead next t th pipe,
but it won t work. Youse see, it s this here way; I ve
bin a-watchin dat stinker ever since de boss got him,
an there hain t nothin to it; he s plum phony t th
core."
Mickey lay upon a dilapidated lounge in the dilapi
dated parlor of an equally dilapidated boarding house,
while Charley sat at a window watching the boy and
wondering how he could have collected the endless vari
ety of odd bits of worldly wisdom he possessed.
"What s yer politics?" the cripple demanded, start
ling Charley out of a brown study.
"Why, I m a Republican, I guess, but you know I
have been so busy with my machine ever since I was a
boy that I never had much to do with politics but to
vote twice."
"Do youse know why youise is a Publican?"
"Well, no, I can t say, unless it s because we saved
226
MICKEY INTRODUCES HIS FRIENDS
the country, and my father votes the ticket," Charley
replied, laughing.
"Jist w at he said ! Exac ly w at he said !" Mickey sat
up and punctuated the air with his fists.
"What who said?"
"W y, a barker on de street. One night bout a
month ago I seed a gang on a street corner, an a bloke
a-wavin his han s, an a-givin em hark. So I goes
over an squeezes inter th mob t listen t de gent, an
dat s w at he tells dem guys. Says he, If youse asks a
Dimocrat r a Publican why dey is one of dem things,
he s on y got one thing t say t youse, an dat is, "I m
a Dimocrat cause me fader was one," or "I m a Publi
can cause we fit an died fer de country/ Say, de gent
jist went on an ripped th eternal stuffin outen both th
Dimocrats an the "Publicans; an he did give sich fel
lers as our boss th very hell, w y, that feller says de
kids even don t stand no show if sich men as Old Man
Holdon wants t bile em up inter soap do youse b leve
dat?" He looked straight at Charley with a face all
seriousness.
"Of course not that was what we call exaggera
tion, Mickey. You see I was a kid once, and they
didn t boil me up, or grind me up, either. If the rich
men went to grinding the boys up where would we get
our men?"
Mickey ran his hand down over a withered hip. As
he did so the memory of his suffering caused him to
wince.
"But here s me, Charley," he protested, "an dey
burned me up "
"Oh, that was an accident ; I don t suppose Mr. Hol
don was to blame."
"Wasn t?" There was a wealth of contempt in the
one word, and more as he poured out the rest. "Th hell
th wasn t. Say, I thought th same, but I ve changed
me mind. See here, dey locked th good men out ov de
works an hired police bulls an fly cops t guard th
plant. An me bein nothin but a boy, they induces me
t stay an work, an I didn t know no better den dey
brings in a bunch ov scabs frum somewheres, an dey
was all dubs an muckers. But Holdon sets em t mon-
keyin wid de furnaces fer a bluff t make the ol . men
228 MILLS OF MAMMON
think de plant was a-goin t work. Course I knowed
dey was green, ef I was jist a kid, but I didn t know
dey was goin t blow her up well, dey got me I was
burned awful an sometimes w en I gits t thinkin w at
a spry kid I was fore den, I wishes t God they d a-fin-
ished me an sent me on t th soap fact ry de gent told
about."
Charley sat silent, regarding this being, robbed of
boyhood and denied the possibility of manhood.
"De spouter on de street hit it off right, all right,
when he told dem guys how every kid ought t have a
chanct t get a good ejucation, have a good home t live
in, an plenty t eat. Den he shot de stuff right into th
Dimocrat and Publican parties fer a keepin th poor
folks kids in de fact rys, an out ov de schools, cause
th rich guys wants th earth, an all de poor kids can
make t boot. By th Old Harry, it s so, too! An if
youse don t b leve it I can show youse thousands ov poor
kids w at don t know nothin but work, an they has ter
live jist like he says."
"But we have all our schools full, Mickey, and
there are just oceans and oceans of boys and girls who
don t have to work; besides "
" Sides nothin !" the boy protested, hotly. "Dey
ain t never had rro school full ov me an I ain t one ov
dem oceans an oceans youse says don t have t work,
am I ? Well, it s me I m a-talkin about an I guess dat
gent was a-talkin th same way. What chanst have I
had t git w at s in me nut sorted out so s I could use it ?
Nixie ! It s me t de sand pile an de scrap dump. An
jist think ov it. Dat gent says as how his party, th
Sociablists, is a-goin ter take ev ry runty kid outen de
fact rys an* give em long trips on th railroads an
steamboats, an put em in school, an make men an
women ov J em. D ; youse think it kin be done, Char
ley?" There was a wealth of pleading earnestness in
the Irish blue eyes as Mickey asked the question. The
visitor temporized:
"Well, Mickey, it ought to be done, that s sure."
"Jist w at he says. I ll be litter ly blistered ef it ain t
jist w at th gent says youse ud say."
"How s that?"
"W y dis way. Dat gent says: Ladies an gents, ef
MICKEY INTRODUCES HIS FRIENDS
youse askes me Publican er Dimocrat frien s ef de
things I m telling youse isn t jist as they ought t be,
they ll say sure t ing, it s all right, all right ; but how th
hell are youse goin ter git it? An he winds up by say-
in dat, spite ov anything, they is goin t git things com-
in deir way, an I t row up me lid an hollers like Fs
a Ingin an when they passes de hat I seen Fly Boyd
drop a whole dollar in th dicer."
"Who is this Fly Boyd?" Charley asked, in an ef
fort to get away from politics, where he felt he was in
deep water even with Mickey.
"Who s Fly Boyd? Say, anybody could tell as how
youse ain t bin in de mertropolis long. Who s Fly
Boyd?" he repeated, "why, she s a topnotcher an don t
youse try to fergit it. Wouldn t no more look at a
common dub like youse dan nothin in de world. Why,
she s traveled bin t Europe an all dem places where
folks as is some shakes don t wear no close t speak ov,
an she has money t burn. She s got a swell joint,
down on Mich-ave an don t keep no mollies round but
jist t keep t ings a-lookin swell. Anything dey gits in
deir socks is clear velvet; an dey don t have no rent
t pay, er nothin . An purty! Say, when Fly Boyd
was run off dey shook out de sand and split up de pat
tern as soon as ever dey got through."
Charley laughed heartily at Mickey s description of
this woman of the town, and asked: "How in the
world did you get acqauinted with this dream of yours
pipe dream, isn t it?"
"Pipe dream nothin . I bin t her place on Mich-ave,
an know me nut s on straight when I talks."
"You ve been to her house?"
"Sure, Mike ! Don t sound right when youse look
at me, but it s on de level. Youse see I knowed a girl
what worked in a graving plant, an whilst she was
dere one ov th clerks got t makin goo-goo eyes at her,
an she bein young an so purty she thought dey wasn t
no use ov no man a-lookin at her an not fallin dead
in love t onct, lets this Johnnie tell her she s de onliest
piece of calico in th world an she a-knowin it fore
he told it t her made it all th easier fer him, see?
Well, she jist melts in his arms, but don t come out ov
it soon enough. Course she thinks he s a-goin ter mar-
230 MILLS OF MAMMON
ry her, an this Johnnie helps her t think so as long as
she is fit t be seen at the plant. Then he up an tells
her she better not come no more. Nacherly she fires
up an tells him he s bin puttin off th ringing ov them
weddin bells bout as long as she ll stand fer, an he
fixes it all up slick an nice ; inducin her t go t de boss
an lie t him by tellin that she is bout t marry a man
in Hammond, an won t he please pay her her full time,
as she must quit her job. Say, that welsher was slick,
all right, all right. When she goes home her folks lives
jist across de street youse can see de house th one
with th big winder in de roof like. When she quits her
job she nacherly tells her folks she s goin ter marry t
dis wels her, an she waits an waits, but he never shows
up after he gits her t quit de plant. Then her brother
goes down t de plant an asks fer his nibs ; an what he
done t dat cuss wasn t half ernough, even ef he did have
ter go t de hospital. Course th brother had t skip, an
Mamie, she s de girl, gets peakeder an peakeder an
finally one day she comes up missin . It s a whole year
fore I sees her agin; an would youse b leve it, when
she first sees me she pulls me inter a doorway, an hugs
an kisses me, an jist nacherly insists that I must go
home wid her an tell her all th news. So I goes, some
wondering, and she takes me t Fly Boyd s joint, fer
that s where she lives."
"Mamie, the girl that ran away from home?" Char
ley asked.
Naw, she didn t run away. I seen her when she
made her git-a-way, an she wasn t runnin . Well, she
make me promise as how I won t say a word t her
old folks nor nobody bout a-seein her, an den she let
me inter de whole works. Say, it was all a false alarm
bout dat baby, she ain t got none, told me so herself.
Dat s how I got acquainted with Fly Boyd an Jim Gard
ner th squares man in de world."
Mickey lay back on the battered old lounge and
gazed at the smoke-blackened ceiling, while Charley let
his eyes wander from time to time toward the house
with the big window in the roof on the other side of
the street; but his mind was busy sorting the queer mix
ture of wisdom and innocence and ignorance, lying on
MICKEY INTRODUCES HIS FRIENDS 23!
the lounge and for the time being deeply interested in
the smoky ceiling.
After studying the boy for a time, he said: "I m
very inquisitive, Mickey, and would like first rate to
know something about this Jim Gardner "The squarest
man in the world."
Mickey turned quickly. "W y, I told you, didn t I
he s square? Jist like you, only differenter. Youse
is is well "
Laughing heartily, Charley encouraged him to go on.
"Well, youse is good, an on de level but youse
don t know no better."
Charley s eyes were wide open. "I don t know any
better than to be good, while Jim Gardner "
"Is good, too," Mickey interrupted, "but it s a dif
ferenter kind ov good he knows better, but jist can t
help being good most ov de time. W y, he s a gent."
Mickey crowded into those four words all the long
ing, all the day dreams and night visions of his poor,
cramped and misshapen life "W y, he s a gent."
"What does he do?" The questioner really won
dered what revelation was to come to him as the fruit
of his question.
"He s in de syndicate; but he had ter work like th
devil t break in. I heard him tell Fly dat."
"What syndicate?"
"Well, it s me t de dump! An youse don t even
know dat? Why I ain t youse heard ov th men at de
head ov th policy shops and big lay-outs uptown?
say, youse is too green t burn."
"Oh," Charley observed, calmly. "He s one of the
big gamblers; is that it?"
"Yep, dat s de dope." Mickey sat up straight.
"Dat s jist w at he is an if dey hadn t a-burnt me f a
cracklin w en I wasn t nutting but er kid, maybe I d a-
bin as big a man, an as great a gent as Jim Gardner."
Horrified, Charley made protest. "Why, Mickey,"
said he, "gambling is wrong and the kind of life
Mamie and Fly Boyd lead is sinful. I don t see -"
"No, youse don t see. Why, damn it all, Charley,
ain t dem gospel sharks gamblers? Didn t dey take me
mon, an not even give me a look-in fer me coin? An
when it comes t Mamie an Fly say, w en our boss
232 MILLS OF MAMMON
gits his name in de papers fer givin a thousan bucks t
de church, he s called good, ain t he ?"
Charley nodded.
"An w en he goes down t Fly s joint, er sends fer
her t go up t his partments on Monroe, an gives her
a even hundred bucks fer takin away his headache er
something like dat w at is he?"
But he don t do it," Charley protested.
"Don t he !" Mickey put all the contempt possible
into a few words, and plunged on: "Maybe I keeps
Mamie posted on th doin s out here, an don t get noth-
in back, an maybe I does. Anyway, youse can take it
from me, our boss is jist as bad as me friends Mamie
an Fly, an a darned site worser dan Jim Gardner. If
I was t tell Jim Gardner how Stinker Price used me,
de stinker d be mighty lucky ef he didn t get his block
knocked off some dark night, fer Jim ud send a slug
ger out t do him up."
When Mickey ceased speaking Charley sat for some
time wrestling with his conscience. He saw the possi
bility of losing Mickey s friendship unless he could
square himself with Mickey s views of life. It went
against the grain, but he did manage to convey to the
cripple an assurance that he would gladly meet "the
squares man in de world" and other of Mickey s
friends.
"Bet yer life youse would," was the comment re
turned, with the following elaboration: "Let me put
youse wise w en Jim Gardner walks inter th bettin
ring a cloud ov pikers an de whole push jist follers
him up t th marker, an w en Jim pulls his wad
it s a roll big as me leg, me good one an lays his coin
like he was a-dealin in rags ; say, they ain t nothin t it
he s de candy! Jim bets th bigges always, an w en
de bookies hears he s comin dey sen s fer all de cash
dey s got, in a hurryup on de bank, an dat s no dream."
"He must be rich," Charley observed.
"Yep, rich as Montgomery Ward an Co. But, say ; I
seed him oncet two years ago when a gang cleaned him
up fer fair, by pullin two races on him to oncet. W en
I seed him dat time he didn t have on no shiners, an he
looked plum disgusted. Mamie tol me bout de game,
an she sed Fly was a-keepin him under cover till he
THE VISION FADES 233
could git next de gang dat put it over him. An she
did it, too ; an staked him fer de next time I seed him
he s wearing headlights on his front piece, an he skins
a five-spot offen his roll an says Here, Crips, he allus
calls me Crips Here, Crips, says he, go an enjoy
yourself/ an I did."
"So you think your friend Gardner would send a
slugger out to do up Price if you asked him to?" Char
ley asked banteringly, but as he went home the boy s
answer kept him fully occupied.
"Sure, Mike," Mickey had replied, "but don t youse
give me away. Lots ov th men what gits their nut
cracked wid a billy, an loses deir watches an loose
change gits it cause dey s bin piped off t some ov de
fly boys as is hired t make life miserable fer folks as
gits too gay a-nosin inter other folks biz. Yep, youse
kin take it from me ef Mr. Price comes up t th office
some mornin wid a busted nut, youse ll know me friends
is not all dead. What, youse goin so soon? Shucks,
it ain t late yit."
"Well, I ll see youse to th works in de mornin ," he
called after his visitor.
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE VISION FADES.
Mickey and Charley both felt a bit shaky the morn
ing they went back to work when they saw Price. He
was still wearing court-plaster in strips when he came
into the moulding room. Seeing them, he cast down his
eyes and flushed up, but made straight for them never
theless.
Mickey hopped over to Charley s side and whispered :
"We gits de can as sure as you re born."
"All right, Mickey, we ll pull through any way," the
man answered, encouragingly.
Price advanced, and holding out his hand to Charley
said : "Mr. Harris, I owe you an apology ; I was brutal
the other day."
"You were rather hard pressed," Harris paused.
"The thing I regretted," his left hand pointed toward
Mickey, "was that you should "
"I understand fully, Mr. Harris, and assure you I
am as ready to make things right with Mickey." The
superintendent was beaming.
"No youse don t," declared Mickey. "Youse kin
give me de G. B. P. D. O., but dis chicken don t take
none ov de brand ov soap youse peddles."
After this declaration, Mickey limped away and
busied himself at the sand blast, while both Harris and
Price seemed at a loss to know how to bridge over the
cripple s awkward speech.
Carson, the big moulder, who had overheard the
speech, grinned his broadest.
Price was first across. "He s never been right since
his accident," he asserted, and while Harris mumbled an
indistinct reply, his visitor was gone, having found busi
ness elsewhere.
Two weeks later Charley was called to the office and
found Price busy with some papers.
234
THE VISION FADES 235
"Sit down, Mr. Harris," the superintendent motioned
to a chair. "I m busy just for the moment."
Charley wondered what Price could possibly want of
him, he was cudgeling his brain for an answer, when
Price handed the papers he had been examining to his
stenographer and told her he would excuse her for a
short time.
Turning to face Harris, he inquired "Ever indulge ?"
and pushed a box of cigars toward him.
"Now, Mr. Harris," he began, when both cigars were
well alight, "You may be surprised when I tell you why
I sent for you. You see, Martin (the man Holdon had
hired to pump Harris) has told me in a casual way that
you are working on an automatic moulding machine."
Harris nodded. "And, well, as I too have been working
on one for years, I thought we might have some ideas
to exchange. I understand your machine is only in the
experimental stage."
"It s out of the experimental stage, Mr. Price. It
was a success as I first built it."
Price s eyes glowed.
"Well, you are ahead of me ; my machine is only
on paper, but I am thinking seriously of patenting the
principles involved."
This was all a lie out of whole cloth; Price bad
never had an idea, let alone developing a machine.
"But I should think it would be best to build a ma
chine to test the value of your invention before patent
ing it" the mechanic ventured.
"Oh, that s all right." Price laughed lightly. "I
know that my machine is all right." At that, he went
on to describe a machine so nearly like the one Harris
had broken up in Holcomb s barn, that the mechanic s
heart almost stood still.
"You you say you have this machine planned out on
paper, drafted?" Harris asked helplessly.
"Yes, and I was just ready to have a model con
structed and sent in when Martin happened to mention
that you have been working along the same lines."
"Well, Mr. Price, I am sure I appreciate your tell
ing me this, for there is but little use for two of us to
apply for patents on practically the same machine."
Harris had aged ten years in as many minutes. Price
236 MILLS OF MAMMON
noted if all and gloated over having found an easy
victim.
"Machines alike! he exclaimed. "Did I hear you
right?"
"I said alike, but I suppose I might be able to claim
improvement in the compound for making the mold."
Charley s face took on more of hope as he thought of
the great difference there would be between the ma
chine he wanted to build and the one just described by
Price. "And my machine will have twice the speed that
can be given any machine that uses a tamped flask,"
he asserted.
"Well, it s interesting, anyway/ Price declared,
"just think how odd it is that we two should have been
working out the same problems. And I don t mind tell
ing you that I am working along the line you just -men
tioned."
The speaker s sharp black eyes never left Charley s
face. He had his victim; that last shot was a winner.
The worker had never thought of the ""how" other work
ers had been robbed of the fruits of years of labor and
he sat helpless.
"But, you know, inventors are clannish and so long
as you have worked on the same sort of machine or at
least a machine to accomplish the same ends, why I
thought it no more than right to tell you about it."
"I thank you," Harris murmured in a choked voice
and hardly knowing what he did, got up, put on his cap
and started to leave the office.
Outside, there was at least escape from the near pres
ence of this man, who had robbed his life of the sum
total of its gladness; robbed labor of its song and sent
his soul reason hunting among past misdeeds. He had
reached the door; the cold eyes of the superintendent
were dancing as he called to him.
"Mr. Harris?"
"Yes," he answered, still feeling blindly for a knob
where it did not exist.
"Come and sit down; we ought to talk this matter
over a little further, and "
"No, it s not necessary," the man at the door re
plied.
"See here, Mr. Harris, I am sorry I beat you to it,
THE VISION FADES 23/
as the boys say, but as you have already built one ma
chine, why couldn t you take the job of building both
the model and a trial machine for me?"
"Never!" The man at the door found the way out.
"Darned tough medicine to take, and I certainly gave
him a good dose. I wouldn t want to put in such a night
as he will go through tonight. But, wasn t he easy;
never asked for a single proof or anything else. And
yet, he s bright/ He reached over, touched a button and
-the stenographer returned.
In the quiet little four room cottage where Charley
and Mary Harris had established their home, there was
little of mirth the night after Charley s interview with
Price.
From the office, he had gone back to the casting
floor, but how he put in the hours until the great whistle
sounded his release, he never knew.
He walked from the works to his home, and at each
step, the weight upon him seemed to grow. It was a
tell-tale face into which Mary looked as her husband
entered the door.
"Gracious Charley, what s happened ?" she asked even
before she reached him.
"I have been dreaming." He threw his dinner pail
into a corner.
"What is it, Charley, what is it ?"
"Nothing, only I found some one who woke me up.
Oh, what a fool! what a fool!" He pushed her away.
"Go away and leave me alone for a little while."
"Not until you tell me," she insisted.
"Well then, another man as good as holds a pat
ent on my machine. And he has money. He can go
ahead tomorrow and I must wait until these two hands
may dig up, by a few cents a day, the money I need to
build my machine. He can hire a dozen men tomorrow.
I can go back to work in the morning and eat my heart
out."
"I don t believe it."
"Believe what?"
"That another man has invented that machine. If
anyone has it, they stole it from you."
"Didn t he tell me what his claim on a moulding ma-
238 MILLS OF MAMMON
chine covers? Well, he had no chance to steal it from
me. It was Price, our superintendent."
"I won t believe it," Mary declared, and tried to
coax a smile to his lips, but the hurt was too deep.
During supper Charley had not uttered a word, and
suddenly Mary burst out crying.
"There, there, little girl, don"t cry; we ll pull
through," he assured her.
"It just seems as if mother s curse was following
us," she whispered between sobs. "There was our baby,
and it died, and now you have lost all you have."
Charley listened that far, then said: "Mary, dear,
you must quit thinking about your mother s foolish
words. I ll own, we are having our share of bad luck,
but sweetheart, we are both young."
"Hello, youse spoonin again?" came a cheery voice
from the front door.
"Come in, Mickey," Charley called to the visitor.
"Not fer mine, when de air s full ov ambrosia, and
blowin towards de -stock yards at dat," Mickey declared
as he threw himself upon the platform at the front door.
He sat with his back up against the house for about
ten minutes, when Charley excused himself and went
t>ack to the kitchen. When he returned, the two sat
silent for at least ten minutes longer, then Charley ex
cused himself again, and this time Mary returned with
him.
After a good evening to Mickey, the group remained
silent until Mickey got up, stretched himself and re
marked: "Purty early fer frost, but I feels like dey
was one billed fer dis end of town, an I guess I ll make
me sneak before it settles on me."
"Don t go, Mickey; I m not just well, not feeling
over cheerful tonight."
"Bin on de carpet? Get canned? "
The visitor knew Charley had been called to the of
fice.
"No, I didn t get canned. I got something worse,"
Charley answered.
"Worse n de can? W y, w at s worse?"
"Mickey, I was robbed of years of labor, of hope,
of happiness, today."
THE VISION FADES 239
"Don t say that Charley," came between sobs from
the doorway.
"I will say it/ The man s voice was hard. "I will
say it ; I was robbed, robbed, robbed ! What have I been
since that machine first came to my mind ? Nothing un
der heaven but a plaything in the hands of a single
dominant idea. I planned all my life around that ma
chine. I ate that the machine might grow. I forgot
God, man, wife, all, even my own appetites, and gave
up both days and nights to it. Fool, that I was ; if I had
only had sense enough to take out patents on the ma
chine I built, but no, it wasn t perfect Now, I am
robbed of even the perfect machine and " he hesi
tated, ran his fiingers through his hair, and hurried on,
"I could have killed him; for a moment I wanted to;
I was almost mad."
"Who swiped yer machine?" Mickey looked up puz
zled.
"Oh, Mickey, he don t know what he s saying, he
don t mean that any one has stolen it from him. Mr.
Price has invented one just like it and he has money to
go ahead and get it out."
"Stinker Price over to th works?"
"Yes," Harris answered.
"Th hell he did! W y, say, he s a stringin youse.
Him! Why, he don t know enough t invent nothin
bigger ner better n a sneaky, low-lived lie."
"But, he has invented a machine so near like mine,
that it s useless for me to waste "
"Cut it out, Charley, it s a stall. An anyways, I
don t want to hear dat stinker s name mentioned less
de one as does it is a cussin him good and plenty. Good
night." Mickey started toward the street.
"Come back," Mary called to him.
"Not fer mine," came from the cripple, as he hob
bled through the gateway.
For two days after his interview with Harris, the
superintendent of the Holdon plant lived in an atmos
phere surcharged with satisfaction. Twice each day
he found business to take him to the casting floor and
four times he noted the disheartened, dull-eyed worker,
who had once had a vision, and the more the worker
24O MILLS OF MAMMON
grieved, the more reason the superintendent had to re
joice.
There was but one little cloud in his sky. On the
same job with Harris, there was one Mickey Dougherty,
and if ever unstinted contempt looked out of eyes, if
ever good, honest Irish wrath, ready to to leap into
flame, flared out from Irish eyes of blue, Price got the
full benefit of their charge on each trip made to the
casting floor.
"That twisted little devil," he muttered as he re
turned from a trip to the shop. "He looks at me just
as though he would like to put a bullet through me."
The third morning after his interview with Price,
Harris did not show up at the works and when he did
not appear the next morning, Moran, knowing the in
timacy between Harris and Mickey, inquired of the boy,
if Harris was sick. Mickey gave his wits to the prob
lem and answered : "Yes," then added : "He asked me
t git off dis mornin at noon, I mean, an do a errand
fer him."
"All right/ said the foreman, you can go at noon.
Get back as soon as you can ; if he is going to be away
for some time, I want to put a man on his work."
W hen Mickey reached the little cottage in which
Harris had lived, he found a "For Rent" sign on both
gate and staring windows. A neighbor informed him
that they had moved out about 7 o clock that morning.
Where had they gone? No one knew unless it was the
agent for the property. Mickey spelled out the name
and address of the real estate man and started for his
office.
"Darned if I d a-thoug<ht Charley would a done it,
an me as good a frien as he ever had. He just up an
hiked ; wonder was dem furniture sharks after him. Any
ways he s gone. My, but he was down in de mouth yes
terday an de day afore. Bet anything, Price had some-
thin t do with his goin so sudden." Thus Mickey
speculated upon the probable reason of his friend s go
ing as he approached the agent s office.
Arrived there, the agent informed him that Harris
had moved to Alton, where he is going to work for a
stove company. A long whistle was all the thanks Mick
ey gave the agent for the information.
THE VISION FADES 24!
"And he s gone plumb outen de mertropolis. Well, he
wasn t up t no city ways, an I reckon he was plumb
ashamed <t tell me he couldn t stan de gaff." In this
way, Mickey justified his friend s unceremonious leave-
taking.
As he was about to enter the shop, he overheard
Price and Moran in conversation, and halted with his ear
at an open window where he could hear.
"You say he s sick?" Price asked.
"Yes/ Moran answered, "And I sent Mickey at noon
to find out how he was."
"Well, as soon as he comes back,, ring me up. I
don t want to lose track of him, he s too valuable a man.
And while I think of it, I wish you would keep an eye
on that cripple, I don t believe he has a good influence in
the shop, and it seems to me, he is making a good deal
of capital out of his being a cripple."
Mickey bit his lips and waited. "So Price didn t
want to lose track of Charley; he was too valuable."
Now Mickey was not so dense but that he could put two
and two together, and make them count for four every
time.
It popped into his head in a moment. Charley had
something Price wanted, and therefore it was his plain
duty to keep Price from knowing anything about Char
ley s whereabouts if he could. He walked into the shop
and was relieved to find that Price had gone.
"Well, how is he?" Moran called to him from across
the room.
"Folks is sick, and he s goin to take his wife an
go -down home fer a week," Mickey answered.
"Funny he didn t come dawn and tell us," was Mo-
ran s comment.
"Would a-done it, but he had t hurry t git out o
town t -day ; so I promised t fix it, knowin youse would
n t care long as it was a case ov sickness."
Mickey went at his pile of castings with right good
will, and many a sly wink was bestowed upon the cold
iron, as he thought how well he had succeeded in giv
ing Price "de wrong steer."
CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE ULTIMATE DEMAND.
"Fly" Boyd sat in the parlor of her apartments,
beside the little onyx and gold table, which held
place of honor in the great bay-window overlooking the
avenue. She awaited the coming of the one man in the
world with whom she was in love.
Twenty-eight years ago this woman was born to
possess a splendid body, beauty of face, an abundance
of gold-brown hair, eyes of hazel, long, sweeping lashes,
arched brows, and lips full and curved as artists paint
them. With all of this physical perfection, the girl in
herited a well organized mentality, a disposition to
charity and a capacity for loving almost unbounded, yet
we find her here at twenty-eight years of age feeding
the vanity of a millionaire, and taking from him and
others of whom he knows nothing enough to keep up
this splendid establishment, support her charities and
leave a little for a rainy day.
If you believe as you should in the inherent virtue
of woman you will agree with me that somewhere in
the life of "Fly" Boyd there must have been shipwreck,
moral shipwreck, and if there was this shipwreck, you
will not dispute me when I insist that a man intent
only upon making this girl believe a lie in order that
he might feast at the expense of her soul held the wheel
and drove her ship upon the rocks.
But our story has nothing to do with this ship
wreck.
She enters our story at a time when but few men,
married or single, priest or layman, might look un
moved upon her beauty. She enters our story at a time
when her experience has given her exact knowledge
of the present worth, in dollars and cents, of the mar
velous battery of mental and physical attributes of which
she is possessed.
242
THE ULTIMATE DEMAND 243
The world is a-weary of the grossly sordid and
bestial stories of women who trade in the lusts of men,
as published from day to day in ever increasing volume
in our daily press. But this woman is not a degenerate.
She is womanly, full of sympathy for her less fortunate
sisters in shame; and, capable of supreme love, she
uses her ability to turn the appetites of polygamous
mankind into gold, and as the lavish outpouring of their
treasure falls at her feet, it is caught up and poured
out in large part into a hundred channels through which
it reaches poor souls in direst need.
This woman waits the coming of the man she loves.
Who is this one man who may have her love?
Enter Mamie, bearing a card tray.
"Fly" took the card, "Jim," she exclaimed.
"Yes, Jim," comes a voice from the doorway.
The rich color climbed from neck to hair, up over
her beautiful face as she went toward him.
"And welcome," she murmured.
Jim Gardner, "Gent," Mickey s "squares man in de
world," looked hungrily into the brown eyes uplifted to
his.
"Well, "Fly," are you going with me?" he inquired.
"No, Jim, I ve made other plans." She paused.
"Other plans!" Jim spoke in a tone that implied
both surprise and disappointment.
"Yes, other plans," the woman looked down and
seemed ill at ease under her lover s eyes.
"But Fly, you know we had agreed that when T
went East you should go with me, and Judson has
wired that we can make a killing. I wanted to show
those New Yorkers the most fascinating thing in the
way of a woman they ever looked upon."
"And, Jim, you wanted you want to parade me
as so much fancy stock."
"No, no, Fly not that!" he protested.
"Yes, Jim, just that. "You have just two motives
in asking me to go, you want me and all I can give
you; then you want the satisfaction of knowing that
every man who can be influenced by such a feeling will
be jealous of you and covet me."
Gently releasing herself from his arms, she stood
before him, bright-eyed and serious.
244 MILLS OF MAMMON
"God, but you are ravishingly beautiful to-day."
A pout came to her lips and her face clouded. Jim
noted the change and blurted out: "What in the world
is the matter, Flora?"
"Not that name from you." "Fly" stamped her foot.
"I ve told you before "
"Girl, girl, are you going to turn out like the or
dinary woman?" he questioned peevishly.
"No, James Gardner, I am not and , but what s the
use, Jimmie, you won t understand me. You, who know
me if any man does, who always say I am different
from other women, even you give me nothing that other
women may not claim of you."
" Fly, I don t understand you at all. Let s quit
talking in riddles. Tell me the truth why won t you
go with me?"
"Because another man offers more for my compan
ionship," came from her lips almost in a whisper.
Jim Gardner sat stunned. For five years this wom
an had professed to love him, and as . he sat blinking
his big blue eyes at her he remembered the sacrifices,
big and little, she had made for him. She, his one sure
rock in time of stress, more mother than mistress, had
led him out of difficulties; had bought him liberty, had
staked him when he was "broke," had nursed him back
to health when he was sick. This woman, whom he
had proudly told himself, and immensely tickled his
vanity in the telling, loved him, now stood before
him dry-eyed and informed him that another offered her
more than he could give.
"I won t stand for it, Fly ! " he blurted out, and fin
ished lamely, "I want you; I can t go without you!"
"Will you pay my price ?"
He looked up and laughed.
"Name it, girlie, name it ; and if it takes my last red
copper, it s yours."
"Oh, Jim, if you only meant that."
"Well^ try me."
"Will you marry me?" As she asked the question
she was at his feet sobbing out: "Do it, Jimmie, I am
so tired of this."
Jim s hands fell across her shoulders. "There, there,
girlie, don t cry. I can t stand it."
THE ULTIMATE DEMAND 245
"But will you?" She looked up blushing like a
girl.
"Will I? Well, hardly."
There was nothing of harshness in his voice, yet the
woman winced as under a lash.
"Just one more chance, Jimmie," lier eyes sought
his, but he avoided a direct look. "Take your time, I m
waiting." Again the regal head dropped.
"What s come over the woman?" Jim asked himself
as he stroked the brown locks. "Just a whim; she ll
be well over it in ten minutes." Then, aloud " Fly/
you are not yourself this morning, and in an hour you ll
be laughing with me over your own fool question."
"Is that your answer?
"The only one I ve got with me," the man answered
lightly.
The next instant a new woman, one whom he had
never before seen, was upon her feet and pointing to
ward the door.
"Go, Jim; go before I go mad; mad enough to kill
you."
"In the name of God, Fly, what ails you?" he
gasped.
"Go, go, you brute! And I have loved you so! O
God, I have loved you so! Go away from me!" she
screamed, as he attempted to take her in his arms.
"Leave me, or, before God, I ll tell you something that
will scorch your soul, if you have one."
He persisted and Fly ran to the little table in the
bay window. Reaching under it she pulled out a re
volver and faced the man she loved.
"Not a step, Jim; not one, or, as sure as there s a
God I ll kill you, and your re too much the coward to
die ; too much the coward."
Jim stood white-faced and trembling, his eyes held
to hers in dread fascination.
"You wouldn t go, you drove me to tell you. Oh,
Jim, if you had only been half the man I have tried to
believe you to be! If you had shown only one spark
of clean love for me, the woman. No, all you want is
my body, ail you have ever wanted, all you have ever
seen in me was a thing out of which you could feed your
self. Faugh ! When I think of all I have suffered for
246 MILLS OF MAMMON
you you I could kill you. Years ago, I gave you
money, a home, a place to hide, and I have caressed
the sweaty, gouty, pauchy brutes who held the power
to punish you. And you, you poor bit of handsome
emptiness, went free and came again at feeding time.
And you dare to spurn my love, you, who have tested
it in all the fires of the hell in which we struggle. I,
the fool, the supreme fool, with every sacrifice made for
you, you dog, I hugged to myself the belief that any day
I wanted to put you to the test, any day I wanted* to
try you, would be to me the greatest day in my life.
Look at me!" She swayed as though about to fall.
Jim took one big step toward her with outstretched
arms and halted. "Stop!" The revolver was held in
a hand steady once more. "Don t play with death, Jim,
you need to live as long as all women who love are
fools." He dropped his head under the utter contempt
of her eyes. "Listen, Jim Gardner." Fly tapped the
barrel of her revolver upon the table top. "You think
yourself too good to marry me, and you are going out
of this room to try to forget me ; but, empty as you are,
you have so much need for me that you would be back
here whining to be fed like any other tramp within a
month. Now listen, I swear that I will kill you if you
ever speak to me. And if you ever talk of your con
quest of me to the fools who will love you, and I find
it out, I will follow you to the ends of the earth and
hire, with my kisses, some other little dog to put you
away. Now go !"
The woman dropped her revolver and clutched at
the frail table for support. At each step of the retreat
ing figure her heart was torn, and when he had reached
the portal, her anguish became audible. Jim heard and
half turned, but did not comprehend; another step and
the heavy draperies had fallen behind him. Had he but
known when that stifled cry reached him that the wom
an s power for resistance was at it s ebb, had he but
known, he might have walked back and taken her in his
arms and held her slave to his will at his own price.
But he did not know. Too dazed to have a connected
thought, he stumbled down to the street, and taking
the first empty cab drove to tfhe Eagle.
I will
follow you to the ends of the earth and hire, with my kisses, some
other little dog- to put you away. Now go!" Page 246.
THE ULTIMATE DEMAND 247
In her beautiful parlor a woman lies unconscious
upon the floor; there Mamie found her a few minutes
later.
"Lost! Lost!" was her moan as faithful servants
crowded about at Mamie s call.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
WHEN JIM LACKED SAND.
James Gardner was put to bed the night Fly Boyd
had driven him from her Michigan avenue apartment by
his man George.
In the first hours of his defeat he told himself he
didn t care a rap, and at each repetition of this asser
tion he had imbibed another glass, until in the end
George was sent for, and his master went to bed crying
like a baby and assuring George that "She s the bes-h-t,
bes-h-t woman in the worl , by gad! An she ll come
roun all right, all right !" It was different in the morn
ing. His first sense was one of outraged innocence,
and he did the principal part in the play. When his
head would consent to think for him he summed it up
about like this:
"She was bluffing you, Jim, just plain bluff, and if
you had called her hand she would have thrown her
cards on the table. All women like to make them
selves believe they own a man, and Fly wants a bill of
sale for me. Why, if I d have said, Yes, I ll marry you/
she would have loved me to death for a month and
talked about nothing but life in a cottage; then she
would have taken another tack. I was too innocent."
At night he had still another view of the matter.
"Say, I wonder what she meant when she stamped
her pretty little foot and told me not to dare call her
Flora ? I remember now ; she told me one night a year
or more ago that she hoped I might call her Flora some
time. I wonder if she does love me so much that she
wants to give up the others? I wonder if she does?
Now, I never felt that way about her. If she was my
wife, it would be different. I d kill her if she oh, hell,
what s the use. I don t want a wife ; this suits me."
"Say, Jim, wasn t she just about the most glorious
picture you ever saw in your life, when she grabbed up
248
WHEN JIM LACKED SAND 249
the gun and sang out, Go, you dog! Did she call
me a dog? I don t distinctly remember, but it sounds
right when hitched on to the gun play?"
The next day he had still another view.
"That old pie-faced Holdon, he s the boy who swung
her over. I wouldn t have believed it if Murphy hadn t
told it; say, but she s fly! Here s me, doing things
for her all these years, when along comes this mil
lionaire; what sort of con does he give her? I suppose
something like this: I saw you with Jim Gardner not
long ago. Now, my girl, if you want a chance to touch
up my heirs for a million or two after I am dead and
gone, you just give Mr. Gardner to understand that he
is not expected to arrive any more; then pay strict atten
tion to me/ That s about the way she took it from him,
eve^n if he didn t say it in so many words ; and didn t
she pass it on to me in a lovely manner? Tragedy
queens get a thousand bucks per, and Fly Boyd s got
em all skinned."
The next day but one he had still another revela
tion.
"There s been some one lyin to the girl. Now, I
come to think of it, I haven t been paying attention to
any woman but her. Now, that is strange. Darned if
it isn t a strange sort of business. Well, now, let s see :
some mollie who s got it in for me goes to Fly and says :
Jim Gardner s telling what a killing he has made with
you and that all he has to do is whistle and you ll love
the whole city government for a month, just to get him
out of trouble. I did hear a man say that once. Well,
the mollie goes to Fly and puts it up to her that way,
then she sits down and digs a plan out of her dear little
head to put me to the test. I ll ask him to marry me,
and if he refuses, I ll know the stories they are telling
about him, calling me easy, are true/
"And say, Jim, you chump, you fell into the trap for
all the world like a clay pigeon goes out of one."
A week later he had still another view of the situa
tion.
"Say, old man, there s no two ways about it. Fly
Boyd either loves you or all the dope sheets put out by
the historical novel writers are dead wrong. Didn t she
call me a dog and tell me not to play with death and
25O MILLS OF MAMMON
ordered me to go, and all the time her eyes were asking
me to come and take the gun away from her? Lord,
what an idiot I was ! If I had just taken the barker and
told her I d be up at nine p. m. and talk it over, she
would have laughed and kissed me and I d been all to
the good. Instead, Fm stung, and stung deep, too. Of
course she loves me; every sign of it, and whenever
Fm ready to go back to her well, I ll keep her waiting
long enough to teach her that gun play is dangerous,
even when you don t shoot. No, I won t. I ll go over
this afternoon and have it all over. Gee, just thinking
about how good she s going to be to me almost pays for
the unpleasant things I ve had to mull over for a week
now."
James Gardner, square gambler, big sport, and as
brave a man face to face with one of his own tribe as
ever stood in shoe leather, north, south, east or west,
drove to the neighborhood of Fly s abode, dismissed the
cab and then sneaked around the corner, and after a
furtive look at the brown-stone front sneaked back again
out of sight.
"My, but I m a brave man; guess I better mosey
around the block and see if I can t get my sand working
by the time I get around."
Three-fourths of the way around, he struck the Mich
igan avenue pavement. Straight north, six doors from
where he stood, was the brown-stone front, behind which
all his trouble was to vanish as soon as he got his sand
to working. But his feet dragged and his sand failed
to materialize. He was within ten seconds of his des
tination.
"Say, Jim, you are a poor, ornery chicken-hearted
chump ; there are but three women in that house, and one
of them is dead in love with you. Get a move on your
self."
He started, halted, went on again, and sneaked by,
looking neither up nor down, right nor left, until he
reached and turned the corner where he had dismissed
his cab.
"Confound the luck ! I d like to know what made my
heart act that way? Why, it s dangerous to have the
thing jumping around in a fellow like that, it might get
loose."
WHEN JIM LACKED SAND 251
He mopped the perspiration from his brow, replaced
his hat, walked back to the spot from which he had re-
connoitered before going around the block.
"No use, Jim. You re plumb woozy. You might
find sand enough to tackle a dray load of devils, but
this is different"
At the Auditorium bar Jim Gardner looked shame
facedly at a couple of friends and wondered if they sus
pected what a double- distilled fool he was.
The next week Jim had gotten deep enough into the
problem to fairly understand its beginnings. Murphy
had told him that Fly and Holdon had gone East on the
same train.
He had tried to take the news without an outward
show of feeling, but Murphy, the best friend he had in
the world, excused himself as soon as he could after
imparting his news and muttered, as he went down the
street: "Poor old Jim, I wouldn t have done it if I d
known how he d take it."
Jim followed Murphy and walked out toward Michi
gan avenue. He halted in front of a cafe he fre
quented, then turned down the street.
"No booze for yours to-day, Jim," he told himself.
"This thing you re up against is too serious to be
thought out through booze."
He tramped for hours and returned to his rooms
tired out. George brought the ingredients for a whisky
and soda, but Jim Gardner, who couldn t remember when
he had refused before, pushed the stuff away and asked
to be left alone for the evening.
He carefully took up the threads of life from the
day he had met Fly Boyd. One by one, he checked off
the services she had rendered him. One by one, he
brought back items of cash she had advanced; and he
had not repaid. Here he buried his face until its heat
was felt in his delicate gambler s fingers. From that he
went on to the day when he had gone to her and pleaded
that she "fix" certain officials, in order that he might
escape conviction for a swindle in which he was impli
cated and which would have sent him to Joliet. He
had known that she had done this thing; how, he had
never asked. What had she said? It came to him
her burning, passion-scorched words. He thought of
252 MILLS OF MAMMON
her sweet body, her love of cleanliness, and, like a hound
on the scent, his mind flew to the men with whom she
had dealt in seeking his freedom. As he passed them
before him in mental review, as each new face came up
leering and bestial, Fly Boyd s cry in protest against this
thing that had been demanded of her cut into his heart ;
to gain relief, he swore he would have vengeance on the
men.
Then came a vision of a darkened room, and the
memory of a woman. Her hands ministered to him, her
voice lulled him to sleep and came first to him when he
awoke. Through the weeks of convalescence she had
brought sunlight to him, and when he was strong enough
to take her in his arms now he remembered the look of
rapture, the hot, red blushes oh, he had been blind, and
all these years he had fed upon her bounty, her love.
"Within a month you will be back, whining like any
other tramp to be fed." Hadn t he gone in just that
spirit? And all the time she had loved him, and hoped
that love would find an answer in his heart.
"She was right, Jim, right as a rivet. You are a
dog, a dirty, dirty dog. She would have done the world
a service if she had put a bullet into you that day. If
all women were like her there would be less dogs in the
world. But, Jim Gardner, look yourself in the eye, and
tell me, are you nothing but a handsome piece of empti
ness? That s what she called you."
He looked into the pier glass, drew himself to his full
height, and, shaking his fist at the image of a perfect
specimen of physical manhood, concluded: "Jim, you
won t give her up, will you? No, not in this life. That s
right, old man ; stick to it."
CHAPTER XXXV.
THE MOCK MARRIAGE.
When Fly Boyd awoke the morning after Jim Gard
ner s departure she awoke to an old world with a new
meaning. She had seen to it that Jim would know
that Holdon was courting her. But so long as she had
faith that Jim would respond to her appeal and through
(marriage lift her above the traffic of the street, she
looked upon Holdon only as a means to gain this end.
This morning, s he recast her lines, and as she walks
back and forth, back and forth across the soft car
peted floor, she reminds one of a splendid tigress, rest
lessly pacing the space allotted to her behind fixed bars.
The fixed bars in Fly Boyd s life were bars to respec
tability; she had labored for years to win one man to
unlock the door that led out between those bars into
the great world beyond. Pacing up and down, up and
down, facing life with her love a wreck upon the rock
of a man s cold sensuality, she rebelled against a society
which puts the keys to this door to the woman s cage
in the hands of the man, and thus makes it possible for
him, however unworthy he may be, to dictate the terms
upon which she may gain her release, while he enjoys
the privileges of entering her cage at will.
When finally seated at her secretary, pen in hand,
she had determined to wage relentless war upon the
world beyond the bars, and we shall record the results
of that warfare without pausing here to moralize upon
the attitude of this woman toward the moral code, our
outside-of-die-bars people profess to uphold.
The result of her morning s effort with a pen brought
no less a personage than the Hon. Horace Holdon, to
her apartments that evening. All the wiles that a beau
tiful woman learned in the school of cajolery might
bring to bear against a man were deftly plied, and in
253
254 MILLS OF MAMMON
the end, it was decided that she was to accompany the
magnate on his vacation.
In explaining that he might not be able to visit her
for three evenings during the next week, the million
aire casually mentioned that he would be in Battle Creek,
Michigan, during that time.
Holdon s step was still to be heard on the stair go
ing down, when the woman began plotting to destroy
him.
Calling Mamie, she asked the girl to get ready to
take a note to a certain cheap hotel on State street.
The note read:
"Dear Tom I m going to ask you to do me a favor. Come
around to Michigan avenue by nine o clock to-morrow.
I wouldn t ask this of you, but you know you have insisted
that you owe me a debt of gratitude; I m going to let you
liquidate it in full. Fly."
Tom Mitchell arrived on time and was ushered into
Fly s parlor, to be received with every mark of affec
tion.
"You poor old dear," she pushed him into a stuffed
chair. "You are going down hill. What does the doc
tor say?" She put an extra cushion at his back.
"Six months," was the laconic reply.
"Six months?" She stepped back and looked at him
wide-eyed. "Six months?" she repeated, then began up
braiding herself. "Oh, Tom, I hadn t thought of it be
ing anywhere as near as that only six months."
"That s five months and twenty-nine days too many,
unless it takes more than a day to do that piece of work
for you."
"No, Tom, we ll cut it out. I can t think of having
you expose yourself you might take cold."
"Why, Fly, you talk like a grandmother," he laugh
ed. "Wait a half an hour and I won t look so bad it s
the change since you saw me that s what s got on your
nerves. I ve been this way for two months and I am
not dead yet."
"But, Tom, I wanted you to go to Battle Creek,
Michigan, for a couple of days and marry me."
"Marry you !" The man stared vacantly at her.
"Yes, marry me under another name." He sank
back and closed his eyes. "It s a game, Tom, a game
for big stakes, and I wanted you to help me play it."
THE MOCK MARRIAGE 25$
"Go on!"
"But, Tom, you are not fit for the part, so we had
best say no more about it."
"Oh, yes I am. You know, Flora, I teased you
for years to marry me, until I saw my finish, and I ll
do it now. Why, I d do it if it had to be done in the
name of Old Harry himself."
"I haven t forgotten, Tom; no, I haven t, and I ll
tell you now what I never would before. All these years
I ve loved a man, and just the other day I discovered
that he did not care for me. So, you see, Tom, we
two have a lot in common." S he laughed bitterly.
"I know the fool, Flora but name the day."
"The day will be some time this next week.
"Who am I to be during the ceremony?"
"H. J. Holdon."
"Holdon ? Holdon ?" He looked at her with startled
eyes. "Not the millionaire iron man?"
"Yes, Tom, the millionaire."
"The devil!"
"No, the millionaire, Tom; they have played with
me for the last time, from here on; I am dangerous to
any man who comes within reach of me."
"And here s wishing you good luck," were Tom s
parting words when the plot had been fully discussed.
On Monday morning, he received a short note at the
hands of Mamie, containing two crisp bills and a late
photo of the Hon. Horace Holdon. This was the pur
port of the note:
"Dear Tom I m sending enough stuff along to tog you out
like the original Iron Angel/ You are so near his size and
both of you having an equal amount of hair, the only thing
necessary to your makeup is that you get yours colored to
match enclosed sample. Now don t be jealous; you will be a
ringer and go under the wire lengths ahead. As soon as you
are fixed up, hike. Get into that quiet little hotel and wait
for Mamie. When she arrives, you can get busy. I am glad
you re feeling better. Ply."
The morning after his arrival in Battle Creek,
Mitchell received this letter:
"Dear Tom Everything is working out fine; I will send
Mamie to you to-morrow with more dough. Get the license,
and if there is any kick on the part of the clerk about keep
ing the report back, put up all the money he wants. The
thing must be on the quiet; don t do a thing unless you can
256 MILLS OF MAMMON
fix the clerk. Then go to a minister. Pick out some poor
man who is doing his best to be a Christian on five hundred
dollars a year. The years you put in on the stage ought to
help you through the con we fixed up. Don t try to bribe
him; put up a strong story and offer him one hundred dol
lars. Tell him we have more money than we know what
to do with. I ll depend on you to clinch the first preacher
you tackle. It will be highly dangerous to have one square
man with our story in his possession take to leaking.
"Ply."
The task of marrying a millionaire without his
knowledge might have halted a woman less resourceful
than Flora Boyd, but when the Hon. Horace Holdon
stepped out of the hotel bus and was followed by a
splendidly gowned lady, when they with other new ar
rivals, went to the desk and the gentlemen gave way
until she had registered as Flora Marie Wieboldt and
had been assigned a room ; when she saw the magnate
crowd up at her elbow, and put his great, sprawly sig
nature on the line below her autograph ; when she heard
him ask the clerk to assign him to the room next to
that assigned her, when she saw how closely the clerk
observed her; she felt sure there would be no hitch in
the proceedings.
She went to her room and had hardly finished her
toilet, when the magnate was at her door. There fol
lowed three days of unalloyed pleasure for the magnate.
When he was not busy closing up his business affairs,
he was being entertained by a bewitching woman. And
the aforementioned bewitching woman allowed a number
of the good citizens of Battle Creek to surmise that the
visiting millionaire was a good friend of hers.
The wedding of a spurious millionaire and Flora
Marie Wiebold was attended by Mamie and the minis
ter s wife as witnesses, while the genuine millionaire sat
in a closed carriage at a point in one of the parks where
Fly had promised to meet him for a last drive before
going home. The minister had reserved his decision
as to withholding his report of the marriage until he
saw the bride. When he saw her and she had whispered
that her people had been opposed to the match, that
she loved Mr. Holdon and her plea of secrecy was made
that he might be protected from the annoyance of full-
page stories in the Sunday papers would cause him, the
THE MOCK MARRIAGE 257
gooa man softened. If the minister would only grant
their request, they would be in Europe before their re
spective families learned the truth. It would save them
much trouble. Wouldn t he do it?"
Then the prospective groom took a hand.
"I was opposed to a secret marriage at first," he con
fided to the minister, "but since Miss Wieboldt insisted
so strongly against publicity, I have concluded that there
may be a good deal said in defense of the thing. For
instance, before going to Europe I have a great deal
of business to look after, and naturally I don t want
to be annoyed with the worse than senseless drivel one s
friends insist on dispensing upon an occasion of this
sort. Then, too, it would seem that the law ought to
be satisfied when people of our age marry if we go
before the proper officer, then go about our business
without a flourish of trumpets and an invitation to the
newspaper people to write us up and lie about us in an
unwholesome manner/*
The minister surrendered, the marriage ceremony
was read, the proper responses made, and Mamie re
turned to the city immediately, carrying with her the
marriage certificate, duly attested by at least two rep
utable people, while the spurious Mr. and Mrs. Holdon
hurried to the park where the Honorable Horace Hol
don, all impatience, awaited the appearance of the bride.
As Fly alighted from the carriage, Tom whispered,
"I hate to give you up, girl I hate it like sin but here s
hoping you pull his leg for a million."
The answer he received came back on the breeze, as
laughing, Fly hastened away to meet the man of mil
lions.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
JOEL S PLANS.
As Joel went out of his father s office a few morn
ings after agreeing to take a position at the mine, he
chanced to see Mickey Dougherty limping across the
street. At the time he only thought that the cripple
didn t amount to much and wondered how long his fa
ther would keep him on the pay roll. Later, when he
began to plan for his little campaign with Estella,
Mickey came back into his thoughts and gradually took
an assigned place in the maturing plan. From the day
of her surrender Estella had been pleading to be taken
away from Madame s. She would go anywhere and
remain out of sight, if only she might escape the mem
ory, ever recurring, of her first hours in the gilded
cage. Besides, the whole establishment and everything
in it, save one poor, disfigured, little mortal, had become
hateful to her. She knew she had paid an awful price
for one man s love; but he was such a persistent lover
and the picture he painted of a care-free existence out
in some quiet little cottage, near to his place of employ
ment, had so filled the perspective of her vision that
Madame s boarders coarse jests and open sneers were
lost upon her.
The senior Mr. Holdon s announcement that he pro
posed to get away from business cares for a year and
that he had fixed the time for his departure materially
changed Joel s plans for the future. He decided at
once to ask his father for a lump sum above his ordi
nary allowance, on the plea that he might see his way
to a profitable investment while his father was away.
This appeal was favorably received and instantly met.
Joel was fully equipped to carry out his changed pro
gram, which had taken shape even as his father was
outlining his own pian for the rest period.
"Beatrice is so bent upon continuing her work in
258
JOEL S PLANS 259
the slums," he observed to Joel over their cigars, "that
she insists upon keeping the house open."
"She s a fool!" the brother answered. "Not as bad
as that, Joel," the father quietly interposed. "I take it
that she owes this devotion to charity to her mother.
Of course it is a foolish notion and I don t like it, but
you know how determined she is. I had thought of
asking you to live here "
"Not for mine," Joel declared.
The magnate went on as though he had not heard
the declaration. "But since you are to get settled down
to something, and with a man who knows every kink in
the game, I have had to look up some one else, and this
time I found a poor relative who can be used to ad
vantage."
"Well, that s good, better get all you can out of em
before you die. They ll all be on top of us for a slice
of the swag before you re cold."
Joel threw his cigar away and began rolling a cigar
ette. The father frowned across the table, but Joel met
his angry gaze without a tremor. "Who s the chaper
on?" he inquired, drawing a match across the gold case
from which he had extracted it.
"Sister Nell Bishop has just written Beatrice that
she will be pleased to keep house for her."
"Not that old fire-eater? Why, dad, the house will
be overrun with woman suffragists and long-haired
geezers who believe in straight- jackets for such gents as
you and I. I can see Charley Wetherby s finish if Aunt
Nell ever sticks her probe into him."
"I don t look at it in quite that light," the father
hastened to explain. "You see Beatrice has never been
in close touch with any of the people who make a pa
rade of their love for the poor. When Aunt Nell was
here last Beatrice was but a child, and mother was the
receptacle into which Nell poured her woes. Now, I
have an idea that if we give Beatrice about six months
of Aunt Nell, and a taste of close acquaintanceship
with short-haired women, she will have enough of the
whole tribe and will be writing me to hurry home, so
we may get back to a sane way of living."
"There may be something in it. Yep guess your
head is as level on this as on biz, good-by."
26O MILLS OF MAMMON
Horace Holdon sat at the library table long after
Joel had gone. He had arranged his business affairs
satisfactorily. Price was fully instructed as to the
part he was to play in disposing of Charley Harris and
his invention. Nothing stood in the way of the Honor
able Horace Holdon s contemplated vacation. Fly Boyd,
the woman who had been able to stir his blood, as his
wife had never done, was willing to visit the Island
Continent and Europe with him. As he sat there,
thinking of her the physical expression of perfect
womanhood he marveled at his passion for her. He
reasoned that he could feed it to death and return to
business at the end of the year without having a vision
of her before his eyes, and a hungry longing for he?
presence eating at his heart every hour of the day. It
had been that way with all the men he had read or
heard of. They had been mad for a time, then when
passion had full satisfaction, the madness had passed.
As he mulled over the several cases with which he was
more or less familiar, a troubled look settled on his
face. In not all of the cases in review had the woman
been willing to release the man. Scandal, murder, even
suicide had followed. The magnate sat thinking yes,
he would give it up. It was folly ; what would Beatrice
think should there be trouble in the end? He would
go to Flora (as he called her) and tell her that his
business demanded that he give it his full attention. No,
he would not. To get out of town without seeing her
that would be the better plan. But, why not have this
one fling? The glorious presence of the woman, her
hands, her wonderful hands, her eyes looking into his,
her lips telling him he was the peer of any man she had
ever met. He went to the mirror, stretched himself to
his full height and was not disappointed as he gazed
upon the well-made, well-kept man the mirror reflected.
He would go on with it.
"You here, father?"
Beatrice entered the library and threw her arms
around her father s neck.
"I am so glad you are going to have a good time,
daddy, so glad, and besides, I want to thank you for
suggesting Aunt Nell as my chaperon while you are
away. And, daddy, I won t be horrid again if you
JOEL S PLANS 261
offer me money for my charities. I am glad, too, that
Joel is going to do something, though I would have
been better satisfied if he could have stayed with us.
And, daddy, you must be a good boy while you are
away on the other side of the world and write me just
lots and lots of letters."
"Yes, yes," the father promised, as Beatrice patted
his hair and picked a speck from his coat.
On the way downtown, Joel congratulated himself
upon having a father who would conveniently remove
himself from his little theater of action at the right
time.
"I wonder if Mickey wouldn t be just about the
best person to leave with Estella when we get settled.
He has always been a tight-mouthed chap as far as I
know him, and he s ugly enough and small enough to
be trusted with a woman, if I can only get him to keep
his mouth shut. I ve got to have some one, and any
sort of a woman is out of the question. They would
blab. Yes, I ll just have to carry Mickey away for a
few months. I wonder what the governor pays him."
At the Eagle Club he swung off the car and entered
the club rooms. Two straight whiskies found lodg
ment within his interior before he went up to his rooms.
With a cigar between his teeth, in his lounging coat, he
puffed the fragrant smoke ceilingward and finished his
plan.
"Gad, I believe Estella loves me. She isn t satisfied
unless I m with her all the time. Lord, but I was the
lucky dog to get her when I did. And now when I go
out to our country nest, my love bird will come plump,
plump down stairs and just fall into my arms, with two
big kisses and a squeeze for me. Now, Jim/ isn t that
rich? And to think there is a Johnson hitched onto
the end of it. Ha, ha ! What won t a man do for love
of woman? Now, Jim, you naughty boy, don t you
know it grieves me to have you away from me down
in that wicked city? Yep, wicked city; that s the way
she puts it. I wonder who ll be her Jim by this time
next year?"
For a little time Joel sat staring straight ahead,
then, shrugging his shoulders, got up, went to the side
board and poured a glass of brandy.
262 MILLS OF MAMMON
"No, I don t love her, it s just her baby ways that
get me. By the time they are gone it will be time for
me to marry some one. Let s see; I guess I ll not tell
her a different story ; I m in the lumber trade to her and
to all the folks I have to meet in the town I take her to.
Why wouldn t Michigan City do for our home; it s far
enough away from her folks and close enough to Chi
cago for me. Yes, I m in the lumber trade and my
cards will read, Mr. Jas. Y. Johnson, Portland, Ore
gon. That puts my home address far enough away so
that should she ever take a notion to make trouble for
me, she ll have a nice, long trip and an interesting hunt
for my people. The next move is to square Mickey
with the game and take him along to help get things
in shape in Michigan City.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
AGITATORS IN THE PLANT.
Harris had been gone four days and Mickey one,
when Price went to Moran to inquire if he had any
word from Harris.
"No, sir, and the cripple hasn t showed up this
morning."
"Well, as he s the only one who knows about Har
ris whereabouts, I wish you would get his address from
the boy when he comes."
Moran, who had made application for membership
in the moulder s union the night before, passed a wink
to Carson, the big moulder, as much as to say, they d
keep Harris address in their own hands until they
landed him in the union.
In the office, Hon. Horace Holdon was giving his
attention to the various bits of information and in
struction he still felt it necessary to impart to his man
Price, before he started on his vacation.
"Well, Price, before I leave, I would like to know
just how far you have gotten in your negotiations with
young Harris."
He lit a cigar, and as Price wasn t hurrying with an
answer, he went on: "I wrote our congressman a
month ago, asking him to have a good, reliable lawyer
investigate the matter thoroughly. He reports that
there isn t a thing, either in the Patent Office or in the
hands of any of the patent attorneys he could reach,
that touches that machine of Harris . So, you see, we
have every incentive to push this matter to a successful
issue. Don t haggle with him; agree to anything he
asks, but push the thing through and be sure to get
duplicates of all his drawings. You know the steps
to be taken when you have the whole thing in your
hands. Now, how far have you gotten with him?
Mr. Holdon leaned back in anticipation of a favor
able report.
268
264 MILLS OF MAMMON
"You know I only got at him last week, Mr. Holdon,
and I m taking it slowly. You see, it s a rather deli
cate business, and I want to be sure "
"Yes, yes, that s all right, Price, but we want to
make headway. I d hurry the thing along as fast as
possible. When I get back next year, I expect to be in
a position, with that machine, to wipe out all competi
tion on small casting. We ve got the big business now
and that machine will give us the rest of it. We must
have it, so don t make any mistakes in handling your
end of it."
"Trust me for that. I anticipate but little difficulty
in landing Harris."
With a grunt of satisfaction, the magnate took up
another matter in which we are interested.
"Here s a letter," he said, turning with the docu
ment in his hand, "from the Corporations Protective.
They have the required membership of one hundred
over subscribed, and are prepared to furnish union
moulders, machinists, or other mechanics, or men who
will join those unions, on short notice. "
"That s something like," the superintendent ex
claimed, rubbing his hands.
"Yes, and I would advise you to get three men from
them, a moulder, a machinist, and a general utility man,
should there be a symptom of trouble in the shops."
"I will if it s necessary, but the men seem quiet
enough these days and I don t anticipate trouble. I did,
you know, when I suggested that you go into this Cor
porations Protective Association, but I guess the con
servative element is on top now."
"That s good. Do you think of anything else,
Price?" He asked the question with his eyes on the
clock.
"N o, I guess we have everything well in hand."
In the shops, word was passed from man to man,
that Holdon had left the plant in charge of "Stinker"
Price. To a handful of picked men, word was passed
that three foremen, Moran on the casting floor, Weeks
in the tool room and Yancey of the machinists had
agreed to stand by the unions and would make room in
AGITATORS IN THE PLANT 265
their departments for men who were competent organ
izers.
About a month after Holdon s departure, John Bui-
man happened into the machinists headquarters just as
the secretary received word that Yancey had come
across and an organizer could be used in the great
Holdon Shops.
Turning to John, he asked, "What are you doing,
Bulman?"
"Doing time," John laughed. "Doing time in God s
great world-prison, and unless I quit pretty soon, my
jailer will refuse to give me even bread and water, un
less I beg for it."
"More of your confounded Socialism," the secre
tary snapped.
"Why, no, that s nothing but gospel truth, trimmed
up to take the raw edge off."
"Well, I was thinking of giving you an organizer s
job, but, Bulman, you would have to cut out your po
litical work while handling this job, for it is delicate in
the extreme and a misstep might prevent us from get
ting old Holdon where we want him."
"Holdon? Not the Holdon company?"
"Yes, the Holdon company, and if we are able to
carry out our plans we ll force the plant into a closed
shop agreement." John whistled.
"Say, Barnes, is that where you wanted to put me?"
"Yes. Yancey, you know him; well, he s with us."
"Yancey? By the eternals, Barnes, he s the strong
est man in that shop. I want to congratulate you ; why,
he s got a head on his shoulders ; I ll take the job under
Old Man Yancey. You need not be afraid."
"All right," the secretary broke in. "How much of
an advance do you wan/t?"
John blushed as he thought Barnes had divined how
hard up he really was. How he had been stretching his
credit from week to week, and wondering each day
when the butcher, baker, grocer, and landlord would be
gin to suspect that his cheery smile and hearty greet
ing were really counterfeit.
"Well, Barnes, I could use any amount, but you see
when I get on the pay roll, I won t need help from the
office."
266 MILLS OF MAMMON
"The job will pay you five dollars per day and ex
penses," Barnes announced, handing John twenty-five
dollars and pushing a voucher out for his signature.
"And Old Man Yancey came over. Won t he be
surprised when I present myself for the position? It s
just six years since he left the Nixon company and went
over to Holdon s. How he used to curse the unions
and call me an anarchist. Won t he be surprised?"
John visited his grocer and butcher on the way home
and informed them, as he made a payment on account,
that he had the promise of a good job and would soon
be able to square up. At home, he met his wife at the
door.
"Sweetheart, we are going to live on Easy street,"
he announced.
"Get a job, father?" The question came from Rob s
room.
John released his wife, who sat down smiling
through her tears, and rushed into the boy s room.
"Sure thing, son."
"Isn t that fine?" The boy looked up and laughed.
"But, not a word to our good angel," the father
warned, with a shaking finger, as he went back to the
kitchen.
John went to Yancey s home that night.
"Well, of all men! John, I ve thought of you a
thousand times." Yancey was holding one of John s
hands in both of his and shaking it, too. "Do you re
member what a fool I used to be, Bulman?"
John laughingly answered, "We all take a turn at it,
Yancey."
"Yes, yes, yes," the host laughed, as he led John back
to the sitting rom and introduced his wife and daugh
ter.
For a time, they talked of the men they had known
at Nixon s, then John broached the subject of Holdon s
departure and inquired if everything was quiet at the
works. Yancey answered in the affirmative, and get
ting up suggested that it was time they were going or
they would be late. Outside he said:
"John, my wife doesn t know I ve gone into this
AGITATORS IN THE PLANT 26/
business, and after the way I educated her I m ashamed
to tell her; and besides, I take it, you came from the
union and we will need to know we are alone before
we begin to talk business.
At Holdon s the morning after Bulman s visit with
Yancey, three new men were put to work. Each one a
representative of the organized workers in the depart
ment to which he had been assigned. For years, the
foremen at Holdon s had had full control of the men
under them, both hiring and discharging. When Moran
found a man incompetent, he simply presented the
worker with a time-slip and sent him to the office.
Holdon had always insisted that he could get more
work out of a foreman and the men under him in this
way than he had ever been able to get when the fore
man had to carry his grievances to the office. Price
had always considered this a curtailment of the func
tions of the superintendent and Holdon was hardly out
of the city when he began to plan a change. Had he
acted immediately, three union workers would not have
been hired and four men who bore the reputation of
being "leakers" would still have held their jobs.
Price, having finally formulated his plans, sent word
to five of his foremen to meet him in the office. Yancey
was first to arrive and his surprise grew as, one after
another, the men came in.
Price gave each a cheery "Good morning" as he
entered. When all were seated, he faced them. "Gen
tlemen," he began, "you know of course that Mr. Holdon
left me in sole charge of the business when he went
to Europe. That being the case, you can understand
that I am anxious to make the best possible showing;
that is, I want the books to show a gain in both output
and profits when Mr. Holdon returns."
The men looked at each other, but did not reply.
"I have determined to make an investigation of each
department and, with your assistance, institute certain
changes which I have long believed would benefit the
ledger."
He eyed each man in turn before he proceeded.
"In the first place, I want closer co-operation with
you gentlemen who are over the men. And it has oc
curred to me, as the initial measure in inaugurating my
268 MILLS OF MAMMON
plan, that it will be necessary for me to be as close to
my working force as possible; consequently, from to
day you will send any complaint you may have against
men in your several departments to the office, and if on
investigation the complaint is sustained, I will eithei
discharge or transfer the men to other departments."
"Mr. Price, I certainly shall have to " Moran
interrupted, when he caught a signal from Yancey,
"have to insist to insist that my complaints be acted
upon at once, if I want to get rid of them," he finished
lamely, while Price smiled.
"Certainly, certainly, Mr. Moran," he agreed. "In
the matter of hiring men, I believe the same rule should
govern, consequently you will send men who apply, to
the office with such recommendation as you see fit to
give. I will assign them to the various departments.
Wilson, who had charge of the pattern-shop and all
woodwork, got to his feet.
"Mr. Price, I want to ask you one question," he
announced in a loud voice.
"A dozen," Price replied, and added, "I would ad
vise that you lower your voice, Mr. Wilson; I am in
clined to believe that none of us are deaf."
Wilson s face was red with anger, as he went on.
"The question I want to ask is this : Did Mr. Holdon
authorize you to make this revolutionary change?"
"And I must insist, Mr. Wilson, "that your ques
tion is impertinent. What Mr. Holdon suggested or
did not suggest is outside the question. I am in
charge "
Wilson interrupted in turn. "I object to any such
change. I know my business. Having held my place
for more years than you have been here months is
my warrant."
"I am of the same mind." Miller, of the shipping-
rooms announced shortly. While Price, giving all his
time to these two insurgents, failed to note that the
three union foremen had sent the signal to "lay low"
down the line.
"Mr. Wilson and Mr. Miller seem to forget that
even a foreman may be discharged for insubordination,"
Price announced.
And the insurgents gave it back to him.
AGITATORS IN THE PLANT 269
"Consider that you have my resignation and act upon
it at once," came from Wilson.
"Here, too, you want to get a good, bright office boy
to handle my job," Miller announced and started for
the door.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen, this will never do." Yancey
was on his feet and Miller stopped with his hand on the
knob.
While Price leaned against his desk, rather shaken
at this unexpected development of opposition to his
plans.
"I am inclined to think we should yield to Mr.
Price s suggestion," Yancey broke in. "He has told us
his single purpose in suggesting these changes is to
make a better showing. Now, if the whole business
shows a betterment, this will be reflected, only in lesser
degree, in the various departments." He paused, and
facing Miller, gave him the broadest wink possible and
Wilson caught it. "Now, I take it that Mr. Price is not
going to harbor ill will toward any of us, even if we
have not felt like giving up our control over the men."
"Not at all, gentlemen," Price hastened to assure
them. "I want men who are able to defend their opin
ions. If Mr. Wilson and Mr. Miller will listen to my
further reasons for desiring this change, I believe they
will take the same view of the matter as Mr. Yancey."
The insurgents sat down and Price went on. "I
take it for granted that each of you appreciates the
present situation as regards organized labor. In this
plant, there is but one department that may be said to
be a closed shop and that is the pattern-shop. In all
the other departments we have men who belong to the
unions and those who do not. As far as I am con
cerned, I would agree that this policy continue, but I
am satisfied that organized labor will not be as chari
table. Some day, these labor skates, living upon a
salary drawn from the wage of misguided workers, will
be forced to make an effort to organize this plant.
It was to circumvent this very thing, to make it im
possible for the unions to load us up with their mem
bership, also to prevent some union sympathizing fore
man no reflection on any of you from discharging
safe men and taking on union men, which led me to de-
270 MILLS OF MAMMON
cide upon this change. In a word, I want to be pre
pared to meet any attempt on the part of the unions to
gain a stronger foothold in this plant. And I want to
suggest that if any of you have outspoken advocates of
unionism in your departments, you get busy and find
some grounds upon which we may discharge them, with
out stirring up the men too much. Now, gentlemen, if
there is no further opposition" he waited, looking at
both Miller and* Wilson "we will consider the matter
as settled." No one entering an objection, he continued,
"I have also decided to change the present pay system,
at least on a part of the work, and I have prepared
these blanks. At present, we have entirely too much
day labor, and I want you gentlemen to make a careful
estimate on the work you have in charge, and fill out
these blanks, showing the averages as indicated. To
gether with this, I desire that you should carefully go
over your work and determine how much of it may be
put on a piece-work basis. I will admit that the read
justment of a wage scale is always a delicate matter,
but if we go about it carefully and make our reductions
gradually we may be assured that the men will not
cause trouble, especially as we have but few organized
workers to deal with. When you turn in these reports,
and I would like to have them by Saturday noon, we
will be well along toward a practical application of my
plan."
The men filed out.
"Drunk with power," Wilson commented.
"I d like to see him cut wages in the pattern-shop,"
was Miller s grim comment.
Yancey, Moran and Brush, had occasion to visit each
other that afternoon.
"I m going to slash my non-union men to the core,"
Moran told Yancey.
"Say, Yancey," Brush whispered when the machinist
called upon him, "I m going to put three-fourths of my
men on piece-work and set the price where they will
have to hump to save themselves from a twenty per
cent loss in wages."
Yancey laughed and went back to his department.
He went to Bulman, and told him of the conference.
"You say you are all right with him? Then for
AGITATORS IN THE PLANT 2/1
God s sake keep right. You may be the means of saving
the whole works."
"I don t see how," said Yancey.
Til tell you. If you are in his confidence, go to
him and suggest that he ought to have two or three
good safe men who could get into the unions, so as to
keep posted. If this company s already in the spy fur
nishing conspiracy against the workers, he ll give it
away."
"But, Bulman, won t that fix my clock," Yancey de
manded. "Suppose the spies get into the union, where
do I get off?"
"Nixie, the first spies they send out here, will get
their blocks knocked off before they ever see the union.
We need the spies in our business. You know there are
several men under you that you are afraid to trust. Well,
the spy comes on and lines them up. We pass the
word to all the men we can trust to lay low, and you
and the spy and Price do business. In this department,
we want our spy to be a man who is willing to join the
union; be sure to get that kind. Then we ll get a line
on the men and later initiate the spy and he ll never for
get it as long as he lives."
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
MICKEY IN A NEW SETTING.
"Dey s somethin rotten wrong in dis house; de
Missus is a bein flim-flammed. She ain t none of yer
fly-up-the-creeks ; she s a lady, an by grab, I loves
(her."
The speaker, our old friend Mickey, brought his
knuckles down upon the floor of the little back porch
with such emphasis that the next moment he had them
before his lips blowing for dear life.
"He s another stinker, James Y. Johnson is, th
dirty welcher. An here s me as thought first off dat
de girl was one of dem as changes deir names over
night. But she ain t; she s jest de sweetest piece o
calico in de world, an Joel Holdon, he lied like a dog
first t her an den t me."
"Mickey, Mickey, come here," a voice floated out
from the kitchen.
"Listen t dat, now, just like a bird." The cripple
sprang to his feet. "Comin , Missus."
"Oh, Mickey, Mr. Johnson writes me from Chicago
that he will be home to-morrow. He s just back from a
trip west."
"Huh ;" Mickey snorted, <and the young woman paus
ed, flushed, and looked at him steadily. Laying down
the letter, she sat looking at him until he became rest
less under her steady gaze.
"Mickey," she began, "I have often caught you look
ing at me as though you were trying to make up your
mind to either ask me a question or tell me something,
which was it?" She smiled and Mickey, shuffling his
feet, stammered an incomprehensible answer.
"Which was it, Mickey?" There was pleading in her
voice ; a pleading the great heart in him could not easily
resist.
"Both ov em, Missus; both ov em." He looked
272
MICKEY IN A NEW SETTING 273
into her beautiful eyes; looked and was blinded; for, in
the months he had served her as chore boy, a man s
love had come to dwell with him, a poor misshaped bit
of abused clay. "But, Missus, I don t dare t ask youse
nothin , an I don t dare t tell youse nathin least not,
till yer man has gone away agin."
"Gone away again, Mickey ! Gone away again ! You
must be joking. James is not going away again until
after " She blushed. "Well, not for a long, long
time."
"I hopes so, lady, God bless youse, I hopes so;" and
Mickey hurried out.
For a time, Estella sat dreaming of the home-coming
of her lord and master, planning her little campaign of
endearments and the future she anticipated.
"Well, I declare," she exclaimed, running to the
door. "I forgot that I wanted Mickey to go downtown
for me. Mickey! Oh, Mickey!"
On the way downtown, Mickey s emotions well nigh
choked him.
"Mr. Johnson, who s Mr. Johnson," he muttered.
"Dat I passes me word t th welcher dat I don t never
breathe his name t no one an I done it afore I know-
ed w at he wanted ov me. If I d a-knowed w at he was
doin if I d a-knowed. But, he ain t seed th last of
de deal not by no manner ov means, he ain t." Mickey
shook his fist at a telephone pole at that moment doing
duty in his imagination as Mr. James Y. Johnson.
"Youse jist try it on, Mr. Johnson youse jist get gay
an go to a makin her cry, an carry on youse jist
try it!"
On the way back home he began to dig deeper into
the relationship existing between his master and mis
tress.
"I d give a purty t know how he got her why, she s
a angel. An all th time she talks jist like she s
fixed fer life. I knows she thinks she s his wife, all
regular, but it stands t reason she ain t. Fer why, she
thinks his name is Mr. Johnson, w en I knows it s Joel
Holdon; an she thinks he s a workin in a lumber
biz somewheres, w en he s jist gamblin , an lushin , an
spendin de old man s coin." As he came in sight of
the little cottage, he looked up. "Dere she is, an she s
274 MILLS OF MAMMON
a thinkin Joel Holdon is a-comin home t stay. I wisht
I hadn t never promised him nothin ."
After delivering his purchases into the hands of his
mistress, he went to his room to think over the situa
tion.
The next day, Estella, all a-flutter with excitement,
sent Mickey down to meet the first train from the city,
telling him Mr. Johnson would probably have more
packages than he could conveniently carry. The train
came and Mickey hurried home.
"I thought youse might be anxious," he told her, and
went back to meet the next train. Four times, he made
his round trip that day, and each time the mistress had
shown deeper distress. "Ef he don t come, I ll go an
git him he ll come w en I whistles I ll bet him dat,"
was his grim comment as he went back for the nine-
twenty train.
Mr. Johnson swung down from a Pullman, spied
Mickey, handed him a suitcase and parcel.
"Well, Mick, how s things up at the palace?"
"All O. K., captain, an she s bin a waitin fer youse
all day. I made every darned train on de card; next
time youse ud greatly oblige me by a-statin w at train
yer a-goin t fetch up on, see?"
"And she s been looking for me all day? Well, I
have been gone a long time." He turned square upon
the cripple. "Say, Mick, think she smells a mouse?"
Mickey did not answer as quickly as his master expected.
"Hey, Mick, are you dreaming? Why don t you an
swer?"
"I didn t know any mouse was dead," was the an
swer, and it came in a muffled voice.
"Answer my question," Joel commanded.
"Well, no, captain, I don t reckon dere s anybody on
dis here earth ud make her smell a mouse lest youse did
it yerself."
"You haven t talked to her, told her anything?"
"No, captain."
"Has she had any visitors since I ve been gone?"
Mickey set the suitcase down and laid the parcel
on top of it, while Joel stood with his hands in his
pockets, wondering.
"See here, Mr. Joel Holdon, I "
MICKEY IN A NEW SETTING 275
"Shut up, you fool !" Joel had him by the collar.
"Let loose ov me, youse welcher!" Mickey exploded
and began kicking and scratching for all he was worth.
Joel let loose and backed off.
"Well, what s the matter with you?" he asked the
panting cripple.
"Nothin ain t th matter with me? Oh, no! I m
all right, all right." Mickey laughed wickedly. "Youse
put yer han s on me agin an see. I ll rip th guzzlins
out of youse, see ef I don t."
"Pick up those traps, you little devil, and come along.
I ll settle with you to-morrow." Joel turned on his heel
and went on towards *he house.
Mickey came behind muttering "Hires me t work
fer him an makes me promise I won t never tell no
one he s a liar an a fraud. Now he wants me to
spy on th woman he s a-foolin with me as ud lay
. down in dis street an let all de wagons in town run
over me ef ut ud do her any good in de world. He s
go-in t settle with me to-morrow no, no, I don t git
canned not dis trip. Me wages goes up, an I buys
a gun an learns to shoot it, too ; an as long s I se actin
a lie every day an am a helpin t spoil her life, why
they can t be no more sin in lyin t him an I m goin
f do it, see ef I don t."
The next morning, Mickey was down in the kitchen
kindling a fire, when Joel entered. He stood looking
at the cripple for a long time.
"Say, youse have knowed me fer some time, ain t
yer?" The cripple turned. Joel laughed.
"Well, Mick/ said he. "You haven t forgotten our
little misunderstanding of last night, I see. But, what
the devil you got mad at is beyond me."
"I ain t mad," Mickey announced, and to drown the
sound of the lie in his own ears, he created a great com
motion among the stove lids.
During the commotion, Estella entered the room, her
eyes red from weeping, and her pretty face showing
evidence of having passed through a storm. Joel look
ed quickly from one to the other of these two persons
he played with; but if he hoped to catch a covert look
of mutual understanding or sympathy, he failed. Mickey
with one swift look as Estella entered the door, read
276 MILLS OF MAMMON
enough to put him on his guard, and as soon as he
could, he got out of the kitchen.
After breakfast, Joel called him and ordered the
suitcase he had brought the night before, taken to the
depot.
"Hike out with it, Mickey I ll be down in time for
the ten o clock train." With that, he hurried back to the
house.
"Well, I ll be literally chawed inter bits; an he s
goin ter quit her to-day, after all she s been plannin
fer him th brute ! Oh, Mickey, Mickey, ef youse was
jist as big as Jim Jeffries, wouldn t youse take de low
lived stinker by de back ov de neck and shake th devil
out ov him ? Wouldn t youse ? well, I guess yes." He
halted out of sight of the house, threw the suitcase on
-the pavement, kicked it up against the fence, sat upon
it and took stock of the situation. "Now, he s goin t
try t shake her, dat s plain as a cop in a saloon, an
he can t no ways do it less he squares me dat s more
of it. Now, spose he tries t square me how much am
I goin t touch him fer? But first, is he a-goin* f
square me ? Yep, less he s lookin fer about all kinds ov
hell t break loose an am I goin t stay squared yep
agin Mickey, till youse gits enough rocks t take de
missus back t Chi. when th house falls down." Pick
ing up the baggage, he trudged on and reached the de
pot just a few minutes before Joel entered. His face
flushed and his voice hoarse.
"Hi, there, Mick," he sang out. "Bring that lug
gage over here."
When the cripple set the suitcase down at the side
of the seat, Joel caught him by the arm.
"Sit down here, Mickey; I want to talk to you. Now
see here, I want to have a thorough understanding with
you. You remember, you promised me you would never
tell any one anything about this little spree of mine."
Mickey nodded. "You promised also, that you would not
let Estella pump anything out of you." Another nod.
"Well, have you kept your word ?"
"Yes, siree. Kept it t date, captain." He looked
up squarely. "But, I m goin t quit t -day."
"The devil you are !"
"Yep, dis s my last trip fer youse."
MICKEY IN A NEW SETTING 277
"What s the rip, Mickey?" Joel showed his uneasi
ness.
"De game isn t goin to be jist as pleasant as pick-
nickin frum now on an th wages is too small fer me
t listen t a cryin woman an stan all th pumpin
they s likely t be fore youse git her palmed off onto
some other guy."
<> "So that s it. Mickey, you gave me a -bad turn last
night ; I thought you had gone over to the side of virtue,
and was going to work for love" the cripple winced and
looked down "instead of working for me and money."
"No danger ov me gittin much out ov love, is dey,
captain?" The bitterness in the face of the youth de
ceived Joel, who took it to mean that the lad s misfor
tune had made him immune.
"That s right, Mick, there is mighty little in it but
trouble anyway. You re as well off and now to busi
ness. I ll give you two dollars per day, and you are to
look after things closely and keep me posted about how
she acts. I won t see her again for a month, and by
that time she ought to have sense enough to see what s
up, and begin to talk sense. I want you to go to a
second-hand man some day this week and sell all the furni
ture, everything, and I ll write her where to go. I left two
hundred dollars up at the house in the first volume of
Cooper s works; you take charge of it, and if you get
her to move out of here quietly, I ll give you all you
get out of the furniture and stuff up at the house. The
two hundred dollars is to see you settled at the other
end of the line."
Mickey was puzzled his question showed it.
"What what youse want t move fer?"
"Well, Mick, since you are going to stand by me
until I get out of this scrape, I ll tell you. Estella hasn t
had any more sense than to get into trouble, and if we
stay here, all the old cats in the neighborhood will know
all she can tell them; and she told me last night that
four or five of them were getting very friendly."
Mickey bit his lips until he almost cried out. The
train whistled; Joel pulled out a card and scribbled an
address upon it.
"Don t ever let her see that card she s got a differ
ent address. When I get you moved, I ll give you an-
278 MILLS OF MAMMON
other name and you can get my letters without any dan
ger of her getting next. Don t forget about the furni
ture. I ll write or wire her where you are to go."
Here the train pulled in and Joel climbed aboard.
"Well, w at d youse think ov dait, Mickey Dougherty ?
Th cold-blooded sinner. He s goin t move her, an
as soon as she gits a friend dere we ll move agin, until
she gits tired an either kills herself r goes straight t
th devil. An I m t help de son-of-a-gun. But say,
I m goin t have de money t help put a spoke in his
wheel." Slowly he made his way home. "I d drather
be in de hot place with me feet in th fire dan t go
an have her ask me anything," he told himself as he
halted at the gate.
Yesterday, he had stood at this same gate and lis
tened to her sweet love song, sung for a man unworthy.
He waited, pretending to be interested in the traffic of
the street, lest she should chance to see him and suspect
him of listening.
"She ain t singin dis mornin , poor little bird," he
whispered as he slammed the gate and whistled to let
her know that he had arrived.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
A HOBBY AND ITS RIDER.
"Oh, Mr. Bulman, I came all the way over here
alone, just to see you, so you must be good and do
what I ask." The speaker, Miss Holdon, came out of
the sick boy s room to meet John as he came into the
living room.
"Well, I declare!" John exclaimed, extending his
hand. "How are you ? Do you know, I ve been wonder
ing how your new hobby behaved. I was thinking of
you as I came home, and mourned because the great
cause loses your enthusiasm while you spend your efforts
trying to break new hobbies to ride." His eyes nar
rowed to a mere slit, and his face took on a look, half
banter, half protest. "Do you know what set me think
ing of you ?"
"No, I don t, and besides, you are real mean to call
me a hobby jockey."
"Well, do you want to know?"
"Of course I do. Tell me."
"All right, Miss Holdon. It was a corps of the
Salvation Army, marching with music and song, up and
down a nasty, dirty, half-paved street. I stood and
watched them quite a spell. The great majority of them
believe in their work, are consistent, earnest and intense ;
but how much enthusiasm they are wasting! They be
wail the effects of sin, when they might so easily reach
down to grapple with the great primal cause of sin and
suffering. I came along toward home, and from think
ing of them I came to think of you and your work."
"And you think it useless ?" she demanded, but with
out resentment.
"No, only a great waste suffered, that a mite of
transient good may be accomplished."
"But surely, Mr. Bulman, you do not understand the
279
28O MILLS OF MAMMON
work I am doing now," she insisted, with a strong in
flection on the "now."
"No?"
"I came here to-night to get you to assist me, at least
to the extent of delivering one address before our new
club."
"And because I call your work a hobby, you think
I am going to disappoint you ?" John laughed. "No, no,
Miss Holdon, nothing in the world so delights a Socialist
as to be able to put burs under the saddle on a hobby
horse, then watch the animal throw the next one who
mounts it."
"That s perfectly horrid of you," Beatrice pouted.
Then, brightening, went on: "I challenge you to make
your old Socialist burs stick this time so there !"
"I ve put my foot in it, haven t I, mother?" he in
quired of his wife, who sat smiling.
"Trust Miss Holdon for that," she answered.
John, with a hearty laugh, turned his attention to
their visitor.
"You ve heard it said that a thorough Socialist never
was known to refuse an opportunity to try the sticking
qualities of his burs, have you not?"
"I ve heard it said, and quite recently, that a So
cialist never knew when he was worsted in an argument,
because, because" the girl seemed embarrassed, and
John laughingly finished the statement for her. "Be
cause his premise is impossible, his whole philosophy in
the air, as it were."
"That s it, that s it !" she. exclaimed, "but I don t
believe half of it. You know there s lots of things upon
which we agree."
"Yes, I know you re playing with fire, but we won t
discuss that any more. When do I get my chance to
try the burs on your hobby?" He was smiling at her
as he asked the question.
"Two weeks from to-night, at my house," she re
plied.
"At your home? Why, is it possible that you arc
going to carry open rebellion against capitalism into
your home?"
"Oh, Mr. Bulman, you always put things in such an
extreme way," she protested.
A HOBBY AND ITS RIDER 28 1
"Yes," John answered, there are two extremes.
Your splendidly appointed home represents one, the so
cial rebel you invite to enter its beautiful portals repre
sents the other, and we cannot harmonize or fra
ternize."
"You might come under a flag of truce," the girl in
terposed, brightly.
"No, not in this fight, where no quarter is asked, and
none is given. The struggle is to the death; the white
flag never flies. I might add" his tyes twinkled "that
stragglers between the lines mounted on hobbies that
rock forward and back, back and forward, are apt to
get hurt."
"Anyway, I promise you we shall not take you cap
tive," the girl said, as she got up and gathered her
wraps.
"All right, Miss Holdon, I ll carry the war into the
enemy s country. At what time?" he asked, as she pre
pared to depart.
"At eight o clock, and I must thank you in ad
vance."
"No, save your thanks until after the battle."
"I wonder what she wants me to talk on," John mur
mured. "It s a good thing for us that there are only
a few such women in the world, mother. If all of them
were like her, their charity and love would disarm the
fighters and reduce the mass of our women and children
to beggary unless we could "
"Why, John, how. can you say such a thing?" the
wife protested stoutly. "I am sure Miss Holdon is an
angel. I wish all rich women were like her."
"There, there, mother, your answer is my justifica
tion."
"Your justification!" the wife repeated indignantly.
"John Bulman, you never talk anything but riddles to
me."
"And you have never guessed one of them in your
whole life, have you, mother?" He took her by the
shoulder, and shook her gently, lovingly, and stooped
to kiss her.
"There, you goose, it s bed-time," she replied. John
let her go, and as he did so a little cloud crossed his
smiling face.
282 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Where in the world have you been, child?" Aunt
Nell demanded, with a great show of interest, on
Beatrice s return from Bulman s.
"Auntie, I went out to capture a lion, as you call
them, for our next Ethical Study Club meeting, and
I m going to give them a really and truly surprise.
"Who is the lion?" The aunt eyed the radiant girl
narrowly. "Who s your lion?" she asked again.
"Mr. Bulman, a Socialist, and a gentleman, but a
man awfully radical in his views."
"Oh, radical, is he, and a Socialist? Now, my dear,
if you would only listen." Two pretty hands went up,
and Beatrice put her ringers in her ears.
"I won t listen, Auntie, not to one who says I can t
have my lion, and give our club a real surprise."
"My dear, you may not listen now, but I warn you.
I, too, undertook the fascinating game of playing with
lions." She got up, and stood looking down at Beatrice.
"There are lions and lions, my dear. Some are old,
mangy and toothless, but still able to roar. You can get
plenty of this sort. Each one will bring his own per
sonal hobby, and ride it to exhaustion, and no one but
the lion and his hobby need be the worse for the exhi
bition. But, Beatrice, these Socialist lions have both
teeth and claws, and if I know them, they would as lief
make a meal off the lion tamer as to partake of the meat
she offers."
"Oh, Aunt, you are as radical as my lion. I do be
lieve I shall have to arrange to keep you apart. The cap
italist tigress and the Socialist lion might forget all but
their teeth and claws. I shall certainly keep you apart,"
she called back over her shoulder as she went upstairs.
CHAPTER XL.
UPLIFT FORCES AT WORK.
The task Miss Holdon had set herself in the forma
tion of the Ethical Study Club was by no means an
easy one. As she labored to bring the "uplift" forces
together for the study of ways and means looking
toward the betterment of the wretched poor, a hundred
obstacles were encountered. Mr. Wilmerding, salaried
by the "United Charities," was willing, of course, to
join the club, but he insisted emphatically in joining
he hoped to be able to convince some of the more rea
sonable of the members that in the "United Charities"
could be found the sum total of all the uplift virtues.
He even went further, when he informed Miss Holdon
that a great many well-meaning people were not only
wasting energy and substance in the prosecution of their
so-called individual charities, but were actually breeding
paupers by reason of their indiscriminate giving. Beat
rice took his application with a heavy heart and went
to Miss Amos.
Miss Amos presided over the destinies of a social set
tlement, an oasis in a desert of poverty, filth and crime.
To her treasury came a goodly amount of conscience
money from the rich.
Miss Holdon s name had never appeared on her sub
scription lists; still, she listened patiently to Beatrice s
heart-emptying. "Yes, she would join and be pleased
to give the use of the Home Hall to the club when it
had a special program." "But, my dear," she added,
"there are so many of these organizations, and we never
see anything of their undertakings manifest in con
crete achievements." She surveyed the well-appointed
room in which they sat. "Don t you think you might
accomplish fully as much, my dear," she inquired bland
ly, "if you were to join with us, and concentrate your
efforts here?"
283
284 MILLS OF MAMMON
Miss Holdon had Miss Amos application when she
left the settlement house, but her heart was heavier
for it.
Mrs. Sandstrom was next on the list. This lady
had set herself the task of solving the servant prob
lem, and she found the work fully as strenuous as she
could desire. With a beautifully appointed home and
an abundance of money, she had succeeded in gathering
a membership in her special uplift that invariably re
sponded to her call when they were to be entertained
at the Sandstrom mansion. About two weeks before
Beatrice s visit she had executed a feat which in its in
ception had promised to be a brilliant success, but which
in its denouement proved well that old adage, "The
proof of the pudding," etc., etc. The membership had
been invited and promised a treat, "The Servant Girl,
from the Girl s Standpoint, by the Girls." This an
nouncement, beautifully embossed on dainty souvenirs,
was found under each plate at luncheon. At the same
time, some five strange servant girls of all degrees of
intelligence, temper and general condition were being
regaled in the servants quarters. Mrs. Sandstrom had
hired them at a week s wages each to come to her kome
and give their side of the servant girl problem in short
talks before the club.
Mrs. Sandstrom s houseservants, we might mention,
were in open rebellion against that lady s method of up
lift, and when she had informed them at the "family
council," three days before, that she had hired five girls
to talk before the club at its next meeting, a second
council followed immediateely upon the adjournment of
the first. This council proceeded to hope the hired
speakers would be able to tell the uplifters a few things.
Consequently, when the hired talent appeared they were
greeted with a warmth that quite won their hearts. By
the time they were to be called to the parlors they knew
more, touching the shortcomings of a goodly number of
the ladies above, than is good for a servant to know.
"Can I make a spiel?" Mary Morrisey, one of the
hired orators, replied to a question from Mrs. Sand-
Strom s maid. "Can I? Say, haven t I been fighting
their impudent brats, dodgin their men with th goo-goo
eyes, an makin me demands for better wages in one
UPLIFT FORCES AT WORK 285
place, better rooms in another, an better grub some-
wheres else, to say nothin of me havin to hold me own
with a tonguey, sharp-nosed, snoopin mistress. Can I
make a spiel?"
Mary was pretty, plump and saucy. Every one con
cluded that she could make a "spiel," and at the close^of
her speech they elected her unanimously to the position
of leading speaker. She accepted, laughing until the
tears rolled down her rosy cheeks, and proceeded to ar
range the program so that she might close the debate.
When the ladies and their servants (each had brought
at least one candidate for uplift) were seated, Mrs. Sand-
strom opened the exercises with a few minutes of gentle
patronizing gabble, then took up the slip of paper Mary
had handed her, and the fun began. At the close of
the session the following comment might have been
heard, as the ladies prepared to depart :
"Shocking!"
"Perfectly horrid!"
"Impudent things !"
"The idea of that red-faced thing insinuating that
our husbands and children needed the first dose of up
lift!"
"I really pitied Mrs. Sandstrom when that long-nosed
one said, After she d been in a certain place three days
she got so nervous she couldn t sleep, from thinking her
snooping mistress was peeking at her from the closet."
"And that chubby one who told about the man catch
ing her and pulling her behind the door and kissing her.
Did you see Nora Jackman color up? They say she
caught her maid and Jackman doing that."
"Well, this is my last uplift meeting," another de
clared. "My maid gets her walking papers just as soon
as I can find another. I know she told that big-mouthed,
warty thing, with the loud voice, about my children I
know it!"
"And the last one!" another exclaimed, throwing up
her hands. "The last one who summed up the evidence,
as you might say."
"Yes; wasn t she a bold hussy?" a little woman in
velvet interrupted. "Why, her language was something-
frightful, and the impudent way in which she pointed
out our defects and defended the servants."
286 MILLS OF MAMMON
"About four such meetings as that," a thoughtful-
looking woman observed, "and we wouldn t have any
more servants. I ll keep mine in their places after this;
the rest of you can uplift and solve all you want to."
"Mrs. Sandstrom asked me to offer her excuses ; she
has an attack of sick headache." Mrs. Sandstrom s smil
ing maid stood in the doorway. Her message was re
ceived in silence, but as soon as she disappeared the si
lence was broken to a purpose.
When Miss Holdon called at the Sandstrom home
she was met at the door by the mistress of the house.
"Yes, she would join the club; she still believed in her
mission and would be glad to present her plan to the
club. Mrs. Sandstrom recounted her side of the servant-
girl problem for Miss Holdon s benefit, and again the
club organizer felt depressed, as she took up her cross.
Miss Natalie Marble s name was next on the list.
Miss Natalie had been a progressivist ever since her
thirteenth year that is, she had informed the world
that she loved liberty and despised love. Liberty, she
asserted, depended solely upon the attainment of one
grand object; that secured, woman would immediately
assume her rightful position in the world of affairs.
Prostitution, child murder, unholy marriage, sweat shop
labor, irreligion, everything of evil in the life of woman
would be wiped away as soon as woman had the bal
lot, the sacred ballot! Miss Natalie was profuse in
her greeting; was not Miss Holdon an heir to millions?
Now, if she could only be won over to the great cause.
Certainly, she would join the club, and hoped to be put
on an early program for her lecture on "Woman, the
Eternal Woman," a lecture prepared in the shadow of
the sphinx.
"Of such, with a sprinkling of new thought, single
tax, science and slum grubbers, Beatrice organized her
club for the study of the world s ethics.
Into this assemblage of warring good folk, intent
upon cleaning a little patch of earth of its weeds and
smells, and righteously jealous of every other sort of
muckraker in sight, our friend John Bulman is to be
precipitated. How many of Aunt Nell s mangy, tooth
less, clawless, tame lions will he meet?
CHAPTER XLL
THE ETHICAL STUDY CLUB.
It was a well-dressed, prosperous appearing assem
bly into which John Bulman was projected the night
he visited for the first time at the home of the Hon.
Horace Holdon.
The program was under way when John was an
nounced. Beatrice hurried to meet him and the look and
words of welcome she gave removed the last doubt he
held, and he entered the great dining room determined
to break a lance in the tourney.
A Mrs. Wilber, whose specialty was fallen women,
had the floor, and the ear of at least a fourth of her
audience. In a nicely modulated voice, she was telling
them that "the problem of moral regeneration is in the
hands of our virtuous womanhood we must shame our
erring sisters by the exalted attainments of our virtue.
It were better to incur the anger and suffer the abuse
some of our fallen sisters heap upon us than to let them
go unrebuked into lower depths of vice and crime. The
one great woman s work of the world to-day is cen
tered in this effort of a few heroic souls to regenerate
and finally save fallen women all else is of little worth
beside this task.
"Every woman who can spare the time should join
with us in the Rescue Work/ visiting those awful
haunts of iniquity, praying with the calloused inmates,
and by our very presence shame the men into abandon
ing such resorts." Mrs. Wilber sat down to the soft,
non-kid-splitting applause of the few.
Mrs. Sandstrom as chairman consulted her tablets
and called upon Miss Tibbs. Miss Tibbs, young, viva
cious, beautifully gowned, and pre-eminently conscious
that she was about to prove her worth as an uplifter,
blushingly made her bow to the audience.
"Fellow students," she began, "I am going to talk to
287
288 MILLS OF MAMMON
you mainly upon a subject far removed from the one I
had in mind when I accepted an invitation to address
this meeting. I am led to do this because it seems to
me Mrs. Wilber has put entirely too much emphasis
upon the importance of her work. I cannot agree with
the statement that the greatest work before us is cen
tered in uplifting fallen women. My conviction comes
from experience. In working among the children of the
needy poor I have met many women of the class men
tioned, and I am satisfied that they, at least, were lost
beyond redemption. To illustrate, I will recount a sin
gle incident. One morning last summer I induced a
gentleman friend to accompany me on a visit to some
families in whose children I had taken great interest.
They lived in a tenement building and Charles" she
blushed and looked down "the gentleman I mentioned,
stood in the hall while I talked to a mother about the
proper care of her children, when one of those wretched
painted women in a kimono came through the hall I
had just stepped to the door when I saw her throw her
arms around the gentleman s neck, and heard her say,
"Charley, old sport, it s good to see you again. Looking
for rooms?"
The speaker blushed to the roots of her hair, as men
coughed and women smiled. But she was both inno
cent and brave, and went on with her story. "My es
cort actually looked scared, and as for me, I almost
fainted at the very boldness of the woman. As soon as
she saw me, she turned and ran down the hall laughing
horridly. When we came away, he explained to me tnat
all such women were alike and that the one we had met
just made a guess as to his name. He was actually as
nonplussed as myself. Now, do you wonder that I
have come to believe women of that class beyond the
power of either prayer or shame?"
She paused and let her big eyes travel slowly over
the audience. The audience sat silent, offering a trib
ute to her innocence.
"We, who meet together as students of ethics are
agreed, I believe, that ethics and righteousness are inter
changeable terms. Then, if ethical culture is to be de
sired, it seems to me we should extend our efforts where
the best basis upon which to build an ethical or right-
THE ETHICAL STUDY CLUB 289
eous life is to be found. I take it, no one will dispute
the statement that the child trained to some useful occu
pation, and at the same time given a right understanding
of moral responsibilities, is the only basis from which to
work, and upon which to build for right relations in
mature life." With radiant face and hands clasped be
fore her, Miss Tibbs hesitated a moment and for a
second time took stock of her audience. "I wish, oh,
how I wish," she exclaimed, "that you, each and all,
could go with me into the homes of thousands upon
thousands of our children and learn of the great need
there is that they be rescued from the sordid struggle
for bread. Little tots, who should not yet know the
alphabet, have been forced to labor for bread. Babies,
who should be lisping that sweetest of all baby prayers,
Now I lay me down to sleep/ have become experts in
profanity, and adepts in petty crime. Boys and girls,
not ten years old, boast of depravity, look upon virtue
as a lie, and laugh at the story of the cross. An army
of children, bred without the pale of civilization, and
yet bread-winners in a Christian city." Lifting appeal
ing hands, with eyes suffused with tears, the girl cried
out. "I want to do something to banish this curse from
the lives of these little ones. Who will help me? Who
will help them? I know that the majority of the fallen
women and the majority of the unclean men, a majority
of the paupers, a majority of the criminals, with whom
society will have to deal fifteen years hence, are in the
making to-day, in the homes of our wretched, over
worked, ignorant, godless poor. This is the work that
is worth while. Will you help me. Will you teach
me?"
There may have been a kid split in the applause as
Miss Tibbs sat down. At least, the men were most lib
eral in their efforts to show appreciation.
Mr. Matthews, a divinity student, connected with
the social settlement, and an ardent admirer of Miss
Amos, was called, and for ten minutes argued that the
only thing necessary to the salvation of any commun
ity was the sum of one hundred thousand dollars, in
vested in brick, mortar, wood, steel, books, beds, pic
tures, kitchen utensils, wooden horses, swings, horizon
tal bars, tools, work benches, the love of Christ, a chas-
2QO MILLS OF MAMilOX
tened spirit, a forgiving heart, and enough "willing
workers" to gather in the mothers and prospective
mothers, and start them right. Capture the children
and teach them self-reliance and the needful art of
being able to produce five dollars worth of wealth for
a dollar in wages. This accomplished with the decent
women and children, he opined that the job of regener
ating the fallen manhood and ditto womanhood of a
community would be an easy matter, and in conclusion
said he : "The social conscience of the community, once
fully awakened, all undesirable characters will be ex
pelled," and he sat down.
The next number on the program was decidedly
sensational. Miss Holdon had discovered a disciple of
individualism in the body of a newly arrived Count, and
had through a friend secured his attendance, also a
promise that he would talk on the "Ethics of Individual
ism." The Count was introduced to a vacuum produced
by the indrawing of breath, induced in all the ladies by
the announcement that a real Count was to appear be
fore them in the flesh.
Count Rousselin smiled indulgently upon his vas
sals, stammered, coughed, cleared his throat, blew his
nose vehemently, and plunged into a discussion of "The
Individual Versus Society." A few of the gems that
dropped from his pale lips are here appended:
"Zis ting we call government, is it not an abomina
tion? Ze lady, God bless her, has want for some fine
silk gown. Ze continent alone, it produce ze silk, fit;
ze modiste fit; ze gown to fit (rapturous applause), an*
ze government, ze, oh ze abominable government, it
charge tariffs, an ze lady, she must pay. Me, I believe
ze world ze whole world, it should be free to woman,
beautiful woman (more rapturous applause). For men,
I believe in liberty all government is slavery. To have
government, some one must rule ; if ze few rule, ze
many must obey. Zose who must obey are slaves ; is it
not so? To ze extent zat zey obey, are zey not slaves?
Count Rousselin/ zey say to me on ze continent, how
can you, who own thousands of acres of lands, an have
hundreds of servants an peasants who obey your light
est wish, how can you speak so like you do? It is not
what you Americans call an insincerity. An I answer,
THE ETHICAL STUDY CLUB 2QI
I live to-day as other men force me to live, but, to
morrow will come. To-day, while my servant waits
upon me to-day, I teach my servant ze lesson of true
liberty; individual liberty.; an to-morrow my servant
will have grasp ze great truth an liberty will be born.
But you must be an anarchist, Count/ zey say to me
again; an I answer, I am I am, and only a very rich
man can afford to teach an to practice zat anarchy. I
laugh at zem, an I laugh at your large-around and little-
headed statesmen; an I clasp hands wis your big-
headed, lean an hungry business men; zey who
take an hold; an to-morrow take an hold
more of ze good zings, and laugh, an buy,
an take, an hold all zat zey want; an still to-morrow
zey want more an take an hold zat, too. I clasp hand
wis zese big-headed, lean, an hungry men; but I spit
upon your men in politics, your government, where in
service ze men grow big below ze what you call it?
Belt? Oh, yes, ze belt, an infinitesimal in ze head; an
zat is government. An always, it has been so. New
governments are built by big-headed, lean, an hungry,
fighting men. Old governments go always into ze hands
of fat, fatter, an fattest bodies, wis little, small, small-
es heads. Zen, ze revolution comes ; an finally, out of
all ze revolutions, individual liberty it is to be born.
Would you kill a man? my friends have asked of me,
an I say to zem, Would you put pork in ze barrel or
fish in ze tubs ?" An zey look foolish an I say : Tis
ze same to-day ; you kill meat an catch fish zat you may
live. To-morrow, ze world will demand liberty an
liberty, it is more zan life; so, too, will ze world kill
meat an put fish in tubs. Is it not so? But, you are
dangerous ! zey exclaim, making large zeir eyes at me,
an I answer: No, not so dangerous as a railway train
is to zose who use it ; not nearly so dangerous as ze
machine, ze ze what you call hands, tends. But, you
would destroy society ! and zey try to look pained an
displease, so I reassure zem. I do not seek to destroy
society ; I but point out zat all government is slavery ;
all law is so much of fetters, an so unnecessary to ze
individual capable of understanding liberty. Would I
destroy? No! Ze ignorant will destroy, an ze wise,
zey will watch ze destruction an smile while ze ignorant
MILLS OF MAMMON
build again. My servant may kill; my words may in
cite his anger; an his ignorance of ze great law of
change may cause him to anticipate ze law ; but I I am
above ze law, an Individulist for I need not to labor
I am free. Ze man, ze woman, all should be free. Zen
will ze gods come down to earth again ; zen, when laws
are forgot, an freedom is ours, zen will great men be
born, an ze world ethic, pure anarchy, ze essence of
individual liberty, it will compass ze globe. Zen will ze
folly of government be demonstrate an ze count, your
servant, be remember as is one John ze great Baptes."
The Count took his seat in a silence that was audi
ble, and the chairman, looking frightened, made frantic
signs of distress to Beatrice, who failed, however, to
understand the signals.
CHAPTER XLII.
BULMAN TALKS ETHICS.
As recorded in the last chapter, Count Rousselin had
but finished his dissertation on Individual Liberty,"
when the chairman hoisted signals of distress, which
Beatrice failed to comprehend.
The distress had its origin in the whispered question
of a member, who had read John Bulman s name on the
program and had advised that that number be omitted.
As Buknan was to follow the Count, and was seen mak
ing his way toward the platform, she had no choice, so
long as she could not get the ear of Miss Holdon, but to
announce the speaker.
"Mr. John Bulman will now address you on A
Socialist s View of Ethics/ " she announced in a low
voice; then turned to the member who had suggested
omitting the number and asked in a whisper, "Who is
he?"
"One of those anarchists, Count Rousselin told uf>
would some day blow us all up."
"Gracious, is that so?" the chairman gasped, then
turned to survey the man who, at that moment, bowed
to her and faced his audience.
"Friends, I have but a limited time in which to deal
with a great subject ; therefore, I hope that you will par
don me if I do not use a great number of words in
thanking the Ethical Study Club for the courtesy ex
tended a representative of the revolutionary movement
of the world. But, I do thank you for this opportunity."
The speaker paused a moment then plunged into his sub
ject. "All about us, we have Ethics talked of, and talked
of, yet how many of us would know an ethic if we met
it at noon-day? What are ethics? What is ethical? If
I can give you a short definition of ethics as I view
the things you call ethical, we shall be the better able
293
294 , MILLS OF MAMMON
to understand the basis upon which the conclusions I
shall reach are founded."
"One speaker has said, in effect, that ethics and
righteousness are identical terms, and the great majority
of us do look upon anything named ethical as being
righteous. Yet, the Mormons taught that polygamy was
ethical ; so too do many religions espoused by millions
and millions of people. Our Protestant and Catholic
churches teach that it is unethical for the men and
women of the common life to have more than one hus
band or wife, and any stepping aside from this ethical
relationship is branded as criminal and is punishable by
law. This looks good, is good; but, this ethic is not
all-conclusive. This being true of any ethic we may
examine, the Socialist makes contention that the ethics
of to-day are upon the same level as were the ethics of
the tribe, the first governmental unit in the development
of society above the dignity of the family.
"To revert to the sex ethic, which we have heard ex
pounded at some length to-night. Is it not true that
your churches grant to kings, princes, dukes, counts, and
capitalists, immunity from the sex law? Who among
you but knows that with but few exceptions the royal
families of the world are rotten morally, yet they are
all anointed of God? Dare you deny that the possession
of wealth exalts the holder above this ethical law?
Should you deny it, I would cite you so many cases
wherein your ethical reforrners, Christian purists, God-
serving officials and patriotic politicians, have taken the
bribe offered in dollars and cents by the licentious and
greedy pillars of society that you would hang your
heads for shame. The very fact that prostitution exists
in a Christian nation proves weakness on the part of
the Christian majority, when it comes to dealing with
an offense against the very root of all ethical relation
ships, the sanctity of the home. This abominable insti
tution pays tribute direct to the city treasury in one
place, through a system of fines in another, and by way
of bribes and blackmail in a third; and these are all
Christian cities. Prostitution could not exist for a sin
gle year in any land wherein one moral law was made
to apply to all people. A land where an ethic could not
be twisted to suit the needs of an immoral, profit-taking
BULMAN TALKS ETHICS 295
class, and an equally immoral, semi-criminal class of
procurers, who for profit subsidize both church and state
and ply their hellish traffic among the daughters of the
working world.
"That is a strong statement. Your faces tell me it
is too strong for you, and I do not wonder. You, who
twiddle your thumbs and hatch resolutions for the up
lifting of the sodden mass of disease and filth-cursed
poor, are not used to anything stronger than an ethical
tea, and that must be diluted and well sweetened and
taken in sips. The meat of a revolutionary program,
looking to the establishment of an economic base upon
which a world-ethic may be builded why, the very idea
is repugnant ! Please pass the sugar, Mr. Bulman."
Significant glances passed between the uplifters, and
the speaker, apprehending them, said: "To invite a
Socialist to talk on ethics is to ask him to direct his
darts at the weakest spot in your nice, white-enameled
armor. What is an ethic? What are ethics? You say
an ethic is the last word of righteousness expressed in
government. And I tell you flatly, an ethic is neither
more nor less than an agreement between two or more
persons as to the manner in which they shall treat each
other in all matters covered by said agreement. This
agreement, either accepted voluntarily or by compulsion,
becomes a law, and all law is ethical to those who profit
through its enactment and is likewise unethical to all
who are despoiled by its enforcement. That this is the
case, I shall prove even to your satisfaction.
"To-night, we have listened to a free man, one above
the need of labor, who, with lands and hundreds of
workers at his beck and call, may talk anarchy, the
dreamy ideal of an individual liberty in operation out
side the pales of an organized state ; and his talk of
revolutions, the killing of men as one kills animals for
meat, or puts fish in tubs, will be listened to by the
parlor gatherings of the world, and next day his hear
ers will vie with each other to wine and dine him. But,
should any one of you hear a ragged devil on a street
corner talking the same stuff about Individual Liberty/
you would hand him over to the police as a dangerous
citizen an undesirable citizen and defend your act as
ethical.
296 MILLS OF MAMMON"
"I do not care to discuss individual liberty in
the sense anarchists use that term; I only insist that the
world of mankind passed from the age of individual lib
erty when man took upon himself the responsibilities
of family life, and later, organizing into tri bes, estab
lished laws and dubbed them ethical. From that time to
this, as society has become more centralized, more com
plex, the individual has been forced to surrender, one
after another, the liberties he enjoyed as a savage living
without government; but for every liberty surrendered,
society has heaped upon the individual and his children a
store of blessings, and the work of the social order in
the reclamation of the individual is not finished; it is
but begun.
"To talk of destroying government while man as yet
has scarcely mastered the A B C of the alphabet of
possible progress may be all well enough before a mob
of ignorant and oppressed workers, or at an ethical func
tion such as this, but among thinking men and women,
such an argument can have but little weight in face of
our knowledge of the needsj the duties, the powers of
the social state for good, for progress.
"When the forebears of our present-day individual
ists forsook their lonely lairs in the forests of the young-
old world and banded themselves together for mutual
protection, I strongly suspect that they did not at once
organize an Ethical Study Club. Yet, in their organi
zation ethics had birth, and have been handed down to
us in the same form. Through all the religious experi
ences the world has had, strange though it may seem,
the Ethic has never changed. Instituted in that far
distant time for the protection of property rights in
life, service, and material wealth, running to the tribe
first, then to the individual, we find that through all the
vicissitudes of time the Ethic has held its own. Let s
examine it as it first appeared. In the trrbe, it was
Ethical to protect the common property of the tribe ;
Ethical to protect the life of a tribesman; Ethical to
surrender one s life for the life of the tribe ; Ethical to
protect the private property of the tribesmen; Ethical
to protect the marriage relation; Ethical to protect
whatever form of sex-companionship had been found
best adapted to the needs of the tribe, be it monogamy,
BULMAN TALKS ETHICS 2Q7
polyandry, or polygamy. All this was Ethical at the
birth of government, at the beginning of individual sur
render. And, I can not see how you could quarrel with
so splendid a system of ethical laws. Why protect the
common property of the tribe? Why inculcate the wis
dom of patriotism? Because they protect the common
life and make ample provision for virtuous family rela
tionship; they protect private property in the hands of
the individual. Now, what more could one demand, even
at this day, in the name of Ethics?
"But let us investigate this seemingly ethical,
righteous relationship. Within the tribe, this works for
the strengthening of the bond that unites the individual
members, for the Ethics of those days might not be
denied without loss of property, banishment, or even
death, as the penalty imposed upon the unethical tribes
man. It does look good. But, suppose we go with the
warriors of this tribe to-night on march round the base
of yonder mountain. Beyond the mountains, our chief
tain tells us there dwells a people rich in tanned skins,
bows and arrows, horses and cattle, and other of this
world s goods, all of which, besides the comely damsels
of the trib e, may be ours for the taking. Let us go
on march to-night. To-morrow morning, we shall fall
upon this people ; a people whose only offense against us
is that they have something we want. We shall butcher
the men of the tribe, confiscate all the property we can
move, and take the women of the tribe captive. Now
let us return to our side of the mountain loaded with
spoils, to meet the women and children, the old men
and the halt. What sort of reception will we receive?
Will our wives storm at us: Away with these strange
women ; return them to their families ; this conduct is
unethical ?
"Will the old men who helped shape the laws that
protect tribal and private property cry out: You have
disgraced us ! disgraced us ! Return at once to the peo
ple you have robbed all the loot, all the women! You
are unethical/
"Will the tribe s ethical study club resolve regard
ing immorality, because we broke up a hundred homes
and consigned the wives and maidens of the tribe we
destroyed to an immoral life? Will any one of these
298 MILLS OF MAMMON
things happen? How will you know that none of them
may happen. The uplifters, the old men, the women of
our tribe, all will acclaim us heroes ; receive us with open
arms and kindle fires to the Great Spirit in thanksgiving
for a victory and this, too, is ethical/
"So, in the final analysis, it is just as ethical to
murder men your government wants killed as it is t<s
save the lives of those the government needs to protect
it against an equally ethical foe.
"It is ethical to protect the private property of the
individual members of your organization, be it a busi
ness association, state, or nation ; and equally as ethical
to confiscate the private property of any man who is not
of your tribe/
"It is ethical to resolve on virtue at home, talk
sanctity of the family, and enact laws for the guidance
of your own household; and it is equally ethical to
destroy this relationship wherever you find opportunity
outside the little ethical circle you have drawn about
yourself.
"I contend that your ethics to-day are but the ethics
of the jungle, the law of tooth and claw, half hidden
under the thin, white enamel of a spineless Christianity.
The only ethic you know, the only one the world has
known since the days when Christ attempted the found
ing of a world-ethic, has been made to fit property
rights in labor, and the products of labor. As a So
cialist, I contend that the human family will not be lift
ed out of the degradation of ignorant sinning against
the fixed laws of life until society shall give to the
weakest individual among us the protection of its strong
arm shall institute a world democracy and take up the
task of deodorizing present day ethics/
"Some of you seem dissatisfied" the speaker paus
ed "but, if I give you concrete examples of the opera
tion of ethics in business, in religion, in politics, and
in labor circles, and prove to you that present day ethics
are dictated and dominated by property interests, and
not by that altruism which alone is capable of lifting
man above the sordid grind of the material world, I
shall feel that my effort has not been in vain.
"The Socialist maintains that a class-struggle exists
in the social order; in a word, that there are two mighty
BULMAN TALKS ETHICS 2QQ
factors in the modern state which make for revolution.
The capitalist class exploiting the material world of its
wealth, through the ownership of the machinery of pro
duction and the power that ownership gives over the
workers, and over against it the sweating millions.
"The exploiting, capitalist class has need for a large
retinue of go-betweens, politicians, teachers, bribe hand
lers, labor misleaders, and flunkies in general.
"Holding first place in all councils of state and
church, and by reason of its wealth always arbiter of
social activities, it is but natural that all who are ambi
tious for such distinction as society may give should both
ape and envy our dollar-damned leaders.
"This being the case, the great majority of our pro
fessional, business, and legitimatized-gambling families,
together with their retinue of little parasites, give tongue
to the cry raised by their masters, when the Socialist
condemns the class division in society and seeks to de
stroy it through the introduction of an industrial de
mocracy.
"On labor s side of this shifting class line, you will
observe a few men of wealth, an army of professors,
not a few writers, and a great body of students, all of
whom are willing to go down into the old melting-pot
of democracy along with the workers, in order that they
may be the better able to reach the exploited class with
the program offered by the social democracy. Along with
these recruits from -the class above, come the class-
conscious workers who accept the philosophy of Social
ism as their demand. Below them stand the great mass
of the exploited, unreasoning labor world. And out of
this great army of labor, every man and woman who lives
upon the other side of the class line must draw food,
clothing, shelter and all the luxuries they enjoy. The
product of the producers being limited, it follows that the
more the exploiting class draws from the wealth pro
duced from the land, in mine, mill, or factory, the less
the producer may have for his own needs. And your
ethical laws are so fixed that the idle class and its
hangers-on may revel in the plunder taken out of the
worker s life, while his family suffers the keen pangs of
a hundred hungers and it is ethical/
"In order to better exploit the producers of wealth,
30O MILLS OF MAMMON
our capitalists institute boards of trade, through which
to rob the farmer and this is ethical/ To control their
employes in our industrial centers, they establish spy sys
tems, hire men to join unions, and, for a few dol
lars, become the abettors of perjury and this is ethical.
"When your captain of industry wants to destroy a
rival in business, or violate the laws of the land, he
lays his scheme for escaping the law before his legal
adviser, and that gentleman proceeds to fix it and that,
too, is ethical/
"When one of our great business men is caught with
his hands deep in the pockets of the people, a man who
has sworn to uphold the law, an attorney, if you please,
appears for his client and all the machinery of evasion,
subterfuge, technicality, and chicanery is put in motion
to defeat the law and this is ethical/
"Your lawyers have perverted every ethic law is
based upon, wherever and whenever wealth has been
cited before the bar; but they, and -the bench as well,
make up for this laxity when the poor, half-maddened
victim of your class-ethic is brought to bar. Away with
him! If he has stolen a ham to feed a starving child,
send him to the penitentiary. Let the majesty of the law
be vindicated! Had he only stolen a railroad or some
thousands of acres of land, he could have had a mis
trial, and at the next election he might go to congress
and this is ethical/
"Your M. D/s have fought for hundreds of years
to compel suffering humanity to accept horse medicine,
divers poisons, a squirt-gun and a lancet, as the only
implements and remedies fit to minister to suffering flesh.
In every legislature, in every state, they have lied, lob
bied, and bribed, and bulldozed every other school of
practice. Every individual doctor standing for progress
has been sandbagged by the Doctors Slugging Commit
tee. Mark them down, homeopathic, eclectic, osteopathic,
biochemic; all these schools of progressive treatment
have suffered at the hands of these saw-bones and this
is ethical/
"Your manufacturers organize a union, elect a slug
ging committee and go out after members, with the
plea that they must organize to keep labor from organ-
BULMAN TALKS ETHICS 301
izing, and to break up those labor organizations already
established; and this, too, is ethical.
"Your business men organize a Merchants Associa
tion and send out a committee -to solicit members. They
send their families to church, while their Trice Making
Committee meets to fix prices for the next week. How
much any member may pay for produce, how much he
shall charge for his wares, is fixed, and woe to the
business man who will not join this most ethical* asso
ciation.
"But of all the organizations in this day of organized
ethics/ the lawyers Bar Association takes preeminence
as the most unethical, most venal, unprincipled, lawless
aggregation of them all. To hear a bunch of its high
lights each of them an attorney for from one to a dozen
piratical concerns when they are -met together -to dis
cuss "The Ethics of the Bar" must certainly cause the
good Christian s very bad devil to laugh -with glee ; yet,
I desire to assure you, this association is as ethical as
your ministerial association or the patent poison adver
tising religious press of this day.
"The last ethical organization on the side of capi
talism to which I desire to call attention to-night is
that of our worthy bankers. Able assistants are they to
our gambling fraternity, the right-hand men of the
speculators who filch their winnings largely from the
decaying middle class.
"The bankers spend your money liberally in the hope
of winning a fortune, and when they have lost your
savings, you are blandly admonished to keep your mouth
shut for the good of the business world. They advo
cate the arbitrary abrogation of your banking laws when
they get pinched ; but they are over-anxious that the com
mon herd shall obey the laws they have had passed for
the protection of their very profitable business. Should
one of them be convicted of violating the class laws
their association has secured, you will discover that the
violation was but technical; and should the banker be
found to have forged notes for hundreds of thousands
of dollars, learned gentlemen belonging to that eminently
ethical association entrenched in our courts will argue
the intent of the act, and finally this farce in the name
of ethics, will end either in the banker becoming a
3O2 MILLS OF MAMMON
bookkeeper or clerk for a short term in our penitentiary,
or he goes scot free through the application of a tech
nicality and it is ethical/ But we Socialists warn all
poor mortals against forging commercial paper or
memorandum notes, for the propertyless man will go on
the rock pile for ten years if he tries to filch twenty-five
dollars from a bank, and it won t make an iota of differ
ence what his intent* may have foeen.
"Take all these organizations of the exploiting class
and let us see what next they will do in the name of
ethics/ Nothing more nor less than the formation of
an association of Post-nuts scab worshipers, made up of
delegates from the organizations I have mentioned. This
alliance for the promulgation of patriotism is never
known to flourish in a soil that has not first been plow
ed by organized labor. Its speakers are drawn from
pulpit, platform, and the marts of trade. All swear
that a man who Jo/ins a militant organization puts a
collar of servitude about his neck. Freedom of Con
tract is the very breath of social and business life, they
shout at us. Yet, each one of these men is held by the
ethics of the association to which he belongs in just
that sort of servitude. The free man, a scab, we are
told, is the noblest work of God, the best citizen, the
highest exponent of a perfect patriotism, and all the
goo-goos, me-toos, reformers, and delegates, cry amen,
amen/
"Just across the line that divides the workaday world
from this most savory gathering of the elect, a labor
agitator and a Socialist gets busy. He tells the work
ers that organization will give them power to shorten
the work day and increase wages, that they may have
more of leisure and more of comfort in their homes if
they will organize for mutual protection, as have the
politicians, capitalists, -manufacturers, merchants, law
yers, doctors, and preachers.
"Then, going a step farther, the agitator insists that
the producers of the world s wealth may adequately pro
tect their product when they understand the power they
may wield through the ballot, and at once, and from
every quarter, our Parryized Scab Hunting Push sends
up the cry: Away with the agitator! Crucify him!
is a disturber! An un-Christian, un-American, un-
H P e
BULMAN TALKS ETHICS 303
patriotic disturber, who is stirring up discontent! And
at once every little lickspittle in the camp of the ex
ploiters takes up the cry and it s all ethical. "
For many a day after, Bulman s rapid fire talk on
ethics was discussed with bated breath at parlor gather
ings throughout the city.
CHAPTER XLIII.
YANCEY PLAYS A PART.
"Mr. Yancey, I want to thank you for your timely
suggestion when we had this plan under consideration/
This was the salutation with which the superintend
ent greeted the foreman when he had responded to a
call to the office some weeks after the foremen had re
ceived their instructions.
"You re welcome to anything I can do to keep busi
ness moving/ Yancey replied, seating himself.
"That s the spirit; that s the spirit. The superin
tendent was all enthusiasm. "And Mr. Yancey, do you
know I am more than surprised at the comprehensive
reports I have received from yourself, Moran and
Brush? Why, I had not contemplated the possibility
of making half the saving your reports suggest. I have
been going over them one at a time. I had both the
others in here, and they insist that the changes they
suggest may be made without more than a grumble or
two on the part of the men, and I have decided to order
these changes, provided you are of the same mind re
garding your department."
"Well, there s one phase of the situation that has
struck me since I sent in my report, Mr. Price." Yan
cey looked squarely at the official. "I had not taken
into consideration the union men in the shop. You
see," he added hastily, "a cut in wages, or a change to
the piece-system will give the union people the best
argument in the world, and they will doubtless use it.
Xow, I would suggest that we ought to have a man in
each department or at least in the more important ones,
who, while nominally a union man, may be depended
upon to report to us. I understand there are several
companies who are prepared to furnish men."
"The very thing!" Price nodded vigorously. "And
I see no reason why I should not tell you; of course,
304
YANCEY PLAYS A PART 305
you understand it is to go no farther. Our company is
already a member of the Corporations Protective Asso
ciation, and we can get men here within a week if neces
sary." Price was in high feather. He felt that Yancey
was to be of great service to him.
"I m glad we are so well fixed to handle them. And
when you send for a man for my department, don t for
get that I want one who is not a union man, but wants
to join. He will be able to do good work."
"When do you think we ought to have him here?
They cost about one hundred per month besides the reg
ular wages."
"Well, there is no immediate hurry. You say you
can get them on a week s notice? I ll think it over and
let you know. Anyway, I don t believe I will need my
man for a couple of weeks."
When Yancey had returned to his work, Price called
Moses Webster in, dismissed the office stenographer,
and dictated the following letter:
Chicago, 19
Corporations Protective Association, Cleveland, Ohio:
Gentlemen We were very much pleased to learn of the
successful launching of your very worthy association, and
may be hammering at your doors with a cry for "Help" in
a short time. Please write us fully as to cost to us per
week for three men, good mechanics; one a machinist, the
other a moulder, the third to be named later; none of them
union men, but all willing to join. You notice we are anxious
to have our men organized. Let us hear from you fully,
also, tell us just how long it will take to get the men to
us after you receive wire from us for three. Yours cordially,
The Holdon Co.,
P. Price, Mgr.
There had never been such a harvest of applications
in so short a time from one establishment for member
ship to trade unions as came out of the Holdon Co. s
plant within two weeks after Mr. Price had introduced
the piece-work system and began cutting wages.
Yancey disliked his part in the battle more and more
as the days went by, but as he thought of the infamous
spy system he brought his jaws together over a tongue
that often brought him near to trouble those days.
Smiling grimly, he walked over to the office one morn
ing and ordered three spies to be delivered within the
306 MILLS OF MAMMON
week. Manager Price sent for Moses at once and in
structed him to send "for 3," as indicated in his letter
of previous date.
Moses Webster, at the close of his labors that day,
waited until Wilson came through the office building to
leave his reports, and hastened out after him.
"Say, Wilson, I want to have a talk with you if you
have time. How s things coming in the shop?" was his
query as they fell into step.
Wilson eyed him keenly. "Are you talking from an
office standpoint or on the basis of our long friend
ship?" he demanded.
"Well, Wilson, I don t know what to say to that;"
he hesitated. "You see, it s this way Holdon gave
me an increase and then put me in a confidential posi
tion, and it was something I have learned in that ca
pacity that has been causing me a world of uneasiness."
He looked straight into the eyes of the old foreman.
"George, I wish to God I was back on my sixteen dollar
job. You know I have been calling myself a Christian
how serious the thing is growing, you will be able to
guess when I tell you I must either quit my job or the
church." His voice broke and the older man looked his
astonishment. "I don t know what to do we need we
must have money to live on and this is a poor time to
go hunting a job."
"Moses," the foreman replied, "it s always a safe rule
to do right, or at least, what your conscience tells you
is right."
"If I d done that, I d been out of a job the day after I
got my raise."
"Well, what in the name of time "
Moses interrupted. "Will you promise never to tell
a soul what I am going to tell you?"
"I don t want any secrets "
"But, I want your advice," the young man protested.
"I ve known you since I first came here and I have al
ways heard men say, George Wilson is a man to tie
to/ "
"All right, Moses, fire away, but remember I may ask
you to give my promise back." Moses paid no attention
to this and plunged at once into his story.
YANCEY PLAYS A PART 307
"The Holdon Company is doing a dirty, despicably-
dirty thing, Wilson. And I am the one through whose
hands all the correspondence passes. They are members
of a great company, backed by over one hundred big
employers of labor, who through this company hire men
to join the unions; then make daily reports on all the
men do or say in their meetings. They also keep track
of the men on work, and this information is purchased
at the price of perjury and is clearly a conspiracy against
the men." Wilson s look of amazement halted the nar
rative.
"You, you don t mean to tell me that there is such a
company ?"
"Yes, and the Holdon Company holds five hundred
dollars stock in it."
"And I thought that story was a Socialist lie," Wilson
admitted in a low voice.
"Lie, nothing ! I sent to them to-dav for three spies ;
they will be here within a week. There, it s out and thank
God; I feet better."
Wilson looked up blankly at the closing exclamation,
slowly rubbed his stubby, gray beard and stood silent.
"What would you advise me to do?"
"Moses, you have knocked a couple of props from
under me ; consequently I am not just steady in my upper
works, and and I need time. You don t mean to say
Mr. Holdon went into this thing?"
"Mr. Holdon dictated the letter accepting member-
ship-
"Well, I ll be . Say, Moses, how long has it been
going on?"
"Ever since they got afraid the men would organ
ize."
"And Mr. Holdon did this?"
"Yes, Mr. Holdon."
"Give me time, Moses, give me time; the world
wasn t made in a minute. I ain t going to give your
story away; but I want to suppose a case with another
man before I give you an answer. You see, the men in
the shops and the foremen have some rights."
"Yes, I saw that that s why I said I either had to
give up my job or my religion."
"Yes, yes, boy, I see; pretty tough pill to take, but
308 MILLS Or GAMMON
your conscience won t die over night, not as long as it
has been getting tougher right along."
"Oh, I can stand it until the spies arrive; then I ve
got to do one thing or the other."
"Yes, either stand by the men and your conscience,
or by the perjurers and your job. Well, I ll give you my
opinion in time enough."
It so happened that Yancey was approached by Wil
son the day after and a supposititious case was presented
to him, by a serious-faced fellow foreman who wanted to
know did Yancey believe the stories told about spies be
ing hired to enter unions and report on the men in the
shops? "No," Yancey replied, "I couldn t believe in any
thing quite so damnable," and repeated that time-worn
assertion : "It s a confounded Socialist lie, told to stir up
strife between the men and their employers."
Wilson wore a sickly grin in memory of his belief of
the day before.
"But suppose," he insisted, "that it was the truth and
was being worked on us in this plant, what then?"
"Then why why " Yancey was sparring for
breath. Wilson was bringing it too close home for com
fort. Was it possible there was a "leaker" on their little
board. "Why, oh, hell, Wilson, what s the use; there
ain t no sense in such talk. Why, man, if it was true it
would drive every one of us who had an ounce of
self-respect into the unions to fight it that s all."
"That s me to a dot, Yancey, and I m here to tell you
I may call upon you one of these short days to repeat
the last part of that warm talk of yours."
Feigning surprise, Yancey faced around from the blue
print he had been examining.
"What s that?" he demanded.
"Wait and see," Wilson answered as he hurried
away.
From Yancey he went to Miller and went through the
same process with him.
"That s all right, Wilson; I don t say there are no
such things going on among the thousands and thousands
of men who employ labor, but I contend that no man
with a decent regard for the sanctity of an oath would
be a party to a scheme to induce men to betray others
YANCEY PLAYS A PART 309
they had sworn to protect. Why, that s too far behind
the ethics of a heathen nation for a Christian to be able
to comprehend the utter depravity of the thing."
Wilson stood nodding, nodding in affirmation as Mil
ler laid down the moral law with swinging arms. When
the latter paused, he asked:
"Now, suppose our firm, the Holdon Company, should
enter into such a scheme and hire spies to join the
unions represented here suppose they did ? What would
you do?"
"I ll tell you what I d do," he looked about as though
there were a possibility that the spies might be within
earshot. "I d help hang the spies, then organize the
works from top to bottom and tend to Price. Say, little
Mickey had him named right, when he called him stinker/
I d tend to Stinker Price later." He looked intently at
his visitor for a time, then said: "Wilson, you don t
mean to say there s anything like that going on here?"
Then added, hastily : "It sounds too much like rant."
Wilson was laughing when he left Miller and went
over to visit Moran on the casting* floor. He would be
even with Price yet. All he needed was to get Moses to
agree to tell the several foremen over the more impor
tant departments the story as he had told it the day be
fore, and there would be things doing in that plant. He
walked into Moran s little cubby office in one corner of
the shop and after a hasty "good morning," Moran look
ed out the window and turned back quickly.
"Wilson, unless you ve got something that can t wait,
I wish you would go; Price is coming and it won t be
healthy for us foremen, office boys, I should have said,
to be seen together." Wilson started for the door with
out a word.
"I ll come over in an hour," Moran called after him.
When Price entered, Moran was busy over his re
ports.
"What did you want ?" the visitor asked.
"Why, I ve got a man here I want to get rid of,"
Moran replied, without looking up.
"Well, why don t you write out your complaint and
send it to the office ? I can t be giving "
"My complaint," Moran interrupted, still busy on his
3IO MILLS OF MAMMON
work, "wouldn t look good even in the office. The man s
a splendid worker."
"Well?"
"Well, the facts are, he s a union man and I am afraid
he s having a bad effect on the others. He s constantly
telling them, if they were organized they could knock
out the piece work in a week."
Price reached out his hand.
"Moran, I am glad you brought this to my attention.
Just write on your complaint blank, discharge recom
mended for the betterment of shop discipline/ and it will
go straight to the secretary. I don t want to waste words
with that sort of cattle."
He left the room and left behind him a man whose
massive features were wreathed in smiles.
Williams, the man who was to be "discharged for the
betterment of shop discipline," was a thorough union
man, but he had a large family to support and, scenting
trouble ahead, had quietly looked about for another job.
As soon as he had found one, he opened up on the man
agement and the non-unionists, before work began at
noon and after the night whistle. Moran had gone to
him the day before and suggested that he might hurt his
cause by such tactics. Williams had replied that he
wanted to be "canned."
Fifteen minutes after Price left the shop, Moran
walked out of the office with a bit of paper in his hand.
Williams guessed what was coming and stopped work
to talk with a non-union man on the job next to him
as Moran approached. With the eyes of at least fifty
men upon him, men who had been telling each other he
would be "canned," he took the slip of paper from Mor-
an s hand. High words followed and finally, Moran or
dered him from the floor.
Carson, bending over his flask, pounding sand for
dear life, asked himself: "Was it possible that Moran
was a traitor after all?" One of the best men on the
floor, who had held out against the unionists, came along
shortly after and pretending to want the loan of a tool,
said to Carson:
"You can have my application at noon. I know, and
every man in the shop knows, we can t go on in this
YANCEY PLAYS A PART 311
v-. y ay. And, if men are to be fired because they are not
fraid to say what they think, why, the sooner we are all
ide the fence, the better."
That night several men in Moran s department whoiii
,he men hoped to get in had made application to the
union, and all but two of them thought Moran in full
sympathy with the management.
CHAPTER XLIV.
CARSON, PHYSICAL INSTRUCTOR.
In a quiet little hall on a side street, near the great
Holdon plant, seven men had met to discuss the situa
tion at the works.
"It s coming along just a little bit too fast to suit
me," John Bulman was saying, when Carson, the big
moulder, interrupted :
"It can t come too fast for me, and if it ever comes
to a time when I can take a crack at Stinker* Price I
won t begrudge a year s work."
"There s too much of that feeling in the works, too
much ; that s one thing we must curb." Brush was talk
ing. Yancey laughed as he said:
"Talk about wild men. This is the third week under
our piece-work system. The first day the men growled
like the very devil, and our union boys laughed at the
others, and then lit in and growled harder than any of
them. At noon, the first day, every man on piece-work
was figuring on his earnings from the time he d swal
lowed his grub until the whistle blew. At night they
were a glum-looking outfit. When a machine went
wrong they fairly cussed the air blue. On day work
they would have whistled and took their own time fixing
it. Well, it s been getting worse all the time, and to
day the piece-work men held a meeting at noon and put
it up to me to make a demand to-morrow for the old or
der of things."
"My men didn t hold a meeting," Brush reported,
"because there s but few of them on piece-work, but I
gave over half of them another two per cent cut in
wages; the notice was posted day before yesterday, and
things are looking black."
"My men," said Moran, "are all up in arms, from
the sand boy up, and whenever Price so much as sticks
312
CARSON, PHYSICAL INSTRUCTOR 313
his nose inside there s enough under-breath cursing to
sink a ship."
"Who can tell how any of the other foremen are
coming?" Downey, organizer for the moulders, inquired.
"Well, Miller s been over to my place twice to-day,
an says he hopes to God the unions will get busy and
get every man in the plant."
"Did you sound him, Brother Brush, as to his per
sonal feelings in the matter?" Yancey inquired.
"No; I wanted to let him sweat a little longer. You
see, Price wasn t nearly as well satisfied with either Mil
ler s or Wilson s reports" the men laughed "as he was
with ours, so he goes over to their departments and
makes things fairly sizzle. When it gets hot enough,
I ll see Miller again."
"How about Wilson?"
"Wilson s advising his new men to join the union,
and told them if they d make a clean job of it he d go
into it and help them till hell froze over."
"Bully for Wilson."
"That s the talk."
"And the next thing is to get the spies in and find
out who s who," Bulman began, when Moran asked :
"How are we to handle the departments in which
the foremen are not with us ?"
"Why, we won t have spies sent into those depart
ments."
"But if he does send them?"
"So much the worse for the spy, that s all," from
Carson.
"Well, we want to agree upon just what is to be done.
I believe in an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, if
we have to fight for it. Price will have injunctions
served on every union, and there will be broken heads
after the strike begins. If we have to fight for decent
conditions against spy systems, injunctions, scabs and
policemen, I, for one, am not going to be too nice about
taking a whack at a head before the show opens, if it
will make us one less to handle."
"Carson," said Brush, "we will make you a present
of the job of physical instructor, without vote, without
salary, without authority other than your two good arms,
314 MILLS OF MAMMON
and may God have pity upon the poor, shrunken-souled
spy who gets within reach of them."
All joined in the laugh that followed the mock crea
tion of this office, but Carson s savage snarl sobered
them.
"Of course it is understood that nothing is to be
done by any individual member of this committee with-
out the sanction of the body," Bulman interposed ; "also
that the names of all applicants for membership in the
unions represented here be withheld until this board is
ready to act. It is also understood that the other shop
foremen who do not come over by the time we are
ready to make our demands are to be notified by the
men in their departments that they shall refuse to work
under them when the trouble is settled."
With this understanding, the conference broke up.
At about the same time Price left the downtown apart
ments of the magnate and went to his rooms to dream
of the conquest of a golden future in which he was to
enjoy the fruits of another s labor.
CHAPTER XLV.
WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SPIES.
"They ve come," the foreman whispered to John Bui-
man one morning as the two met at the street corner.
"Price had me in last night, when we knocked off, and
he s as tickled as a kid with his first pants."
It was a grim smile that played about John s mouth,
as he made answer: "And may God pity them."
And "they" who had arrived, lost no time in making
it known in the departments to which they had been as
signed that they were strongly in favor of unions. Many
were the stories they narrated of strikes and lockouts
in which, While they were not strikers, they had assisted
the good cause by breaking a head or two when the
Chance offered. Off work, they were total strangers, un
til they were safely away from the men.
For four days, Price received the reports of his spies
with joy mingled with a tempering doubt. The fifth
day s report from both the moulder and machinist, were
scarcely to his liking.
The machinist reported: Men mostly mum on question of
union men in here; one man, John Bulman, is most danger
ous, I should judge. He s got a lot of horse sense and says
flat-footed that every man here ought to be in the union. I
gave him my application to-day. He s a funny cuss, looked at
me kind of queer and says, "Do you realize the gravity of
the step you are taking?" He will bear watching. When
word went round the shop that I d signed up, some of the men
I couldn t get a word with before thawed out, and I have com
menced to pump them. (Signed) W. Y. Farley.
The moulder reported: Moulding floor is just about a
"closed shop," or my ten years experience in getting next
goes for nothing. I m to be taken into the union some time
next week. My advice is for you to begin to work up a force
to take hold here, for if I know anything about trouble signs,
I see them in this plant. I put off telling you this until
I was sure. (Signed) P. Johnson.
315
3l6 MILLS OF MAMMON
"They are either trying to earn their wages by giv
ing me something to keep me awake, or I ve been fooled
in the men/ was Price s comment as he finished the
day s reports and sent for Moses, who took the papers,
and after reading them locked them in the vault.
Out in the big plant about fifty men, machinists,
moulders and blacksmiths, all men who had served al
most if not quite as many years in their unions as they
had at their trades, were taken into the leaders confi
dence, and were assigned a part in the coming initiation
of W. Y. Farley, P. Johnson and A. T. Jones.
A week passed, a week that brought but little com
fort to the superintendent, as he read the reports of his
spies, each day growing more lurid, as the men selected
for this special duty plied the company s men with ma
terial intended to unsettle the mind of "Stinker" Price.
The week in passing afforded the men ample oppor
tunity to perfect their plans for the initiation of the spies.
The hall secured, the several men who were to assume
the role of officials were drilled in their parts. All were
instructed to wear masks, and the stage being set, each
of the three men was instructed to appear for initia
tion. The machinist at seven-thirty, the moulder at eight,
and the blacksmith at eight-thirty. It was impressed
upon the would-be members that they must be punctual,
or they might have to wait two weeks longer before be
ing taken into the organizations.
"Where do you go to ride the goat?" Johnson asked
Jones.
"Over on Randolph somewhere, I ve got the number
here."
"Why, that s damned funny; that s where I go!" ex
claimed Johnson.
"Oh, that s all right, there may be a dozen unions in
the one building," Jones assured him.
So the two arranged to go together. At seven-
thirty, both men were standing on the pavement in front
of the number to which they had been directed.
"There went three of our men," Jones observed as a
half-dozen workers entered the building.
"And there goes Farley, I ll "
"Let him go," Johnson interrupted, catching his com
panion by the arm. "I don t have to show up until
WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SPIES 317
eight, and I guess we better not be seen together; it
might not pay in the end. I m going to a saloon; see
you to-morrow night and talk goat."
Farley was met at the landing by a young fellow
whom he had never seen before.
"Is one of you gents Mr. Farley?" the latter ques
tioned, as Farley came up with two others.
"I m Farley."
"You re the man, then. Well, the machinists sent me
down to look for you, they are waiting."
"All right, go ahead," Farley answered as his guide
started up a second flight of stairs.
The guide pushed him through a doorway, the door
closed behind him and he heard a key turned in the
lock. Three men entered through another doorway, each
wearing a mask.
"Hello, you put on some extra touches out here.
I " the astonished candidate began when he was in
terrupted by one of the masked men.
"What extra touches, brother?"
"Why, them blinkers," he replied.
"Brother, your application states that you have never
been a member of our order, what can you know of it s
initiation ?"
"Nothing, I I only thought labor unions didn t use
such things."
"You will know more after your initiation," the
mask replied.
Another mask stepped forward, and solemnly said:
"Brother, you have given one of our brothers an appli-
action for membership. Did you do this of your own
free will?"
"Yes, sir," the candidate answered.
"As you cannot know the nature of the obligation
you are to take to-night, I am instructed to inform you
that it is both solemn and binding, yet it will in no way
conflict with your duties as a citizen, neither* will it in
terfere with your religious belief. With this assurance
on my part and on the part of the brothers here, are you
willing to take the obligation ?"
"I am."
"Then may God help you. Brothers prepare the can
didate for initiation."
318 MILLS OF MAMMON
"That s a murderous looking gun you carry," one of
the men observed, as he took a thirty-eight caliber auto
matic revolver from Farley s pocket.
"Here, give me that gun !" The candidate made
a grab for it, when his arm was caught by one of the
men.
"Not so fast, brother, not so fast; that gun might
scare the goat. We ll keep it until we get through and
come out for your clothes."
"All right, pard, keep it; but, on the level, I don t
like this undressing business," he protested, as they
stripped him to shirt and pants, and led him into the hall.
Farley may live to join several other unions, but he
will never forget the sight that met his gaze as he was led
into the hall. The stillness of a living death brooded
over it. Four stations in the hall were occupied by robed
figures, masked and bearded, while the masked members
banked upon either side, sat rigid in their chairs.
"They do things in style out here, all right," the
candidate whispered as he was being led to the first
station.
"Worthy Past President," the voice of the guide
droned on the silence as he swung about to face the sta
tion, while in the far end of the hall four raps of the
gavel sounded, and every man was upon his feet in an
instant.
"I bring before you a man from the great body of un
organized labor, who is desirous of joining our order.
W r ill you question him?"
The worthy Past President cleared his throat with an
audible effort and began: "Fellow worker, this good
brother who acts as your guide assures me that you de
sire to become a member of our order, is this true ?"
"It is."
"Do you know that you will be required to take an
obligation binding upon you before God and man, an
obligation that none but a renegade, without sense of
honor would betray ? Do you realize the solemnity of an
oath and that you must take this obligation before our
secrets may be revealed to you?"
"I do."
"Guide, you will escort the candidate around the
hall in order that each member may closely scrutinize
WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SPIES 31Q
him before he is allowed to take the obligation." The
speaker lifted his voice and added: "If there be aught
against him, if one of the brothers present knows of
any good reason why W. Y. Farley should not be ad
mitted, let him make his Objection known, before the
oath is administered." A single rap from the gavel, and
the banked rows of masks peered from their chairs as
the two, guide and candidate, took up their march about
the hall.
"Most Worthy President," again they halted and
again the gavel rapped the members to their feet, "I
bring before you a fellow worker, who has answered all
questions satisfactorily, who has also passed under close
scrutiny of the brothers here present. This brother de
sires membership in our order, and I present him for
initiation."
"He has answered all questions ?"
"He has."
"He has been duly elected?"
The clerk answered, "He has."
"His initiation fees are paid?"
"They are," the treasurer replied.
"Then, my brother, in the presence of God and the
brothers here assembled, I ask you; are you willing to
take an oath of allegiance to this order, an oath that
will bind you before all men to keep inviolate the secret
business of this organization?"
"I am." The words came in a low tone of voice.
"Speak louder," the guide admonished.
"I am," the candidate s affirmation was heard to the
ends of the hall.
"You will repeat after me, using your name where I
use mine, the following obligation: "I, W. V. Smith,"
(the candidate repeated, "I, W. Y. Farley,") "do solemn
ly swear in the presence of God and the witnesses here
assembled; that I will never reveal any of the secret
business, signs or passwords, oral or written, that may
be given me at this time, or at any time in the future,
to any one not a member of this order, and as much en
titled to them as I am. I further swear, as God is
my witness, that I will never use my membership in
this organization for any end not sanctioned by its mem
bership. That I will obey the officers of the organization
32O MILLS OF MAMMON
and be orderly in meetings, and by my daily walk in life
endeavor to so live that I shall not bring discredit upon
the order or upon my fellow members. If I should
prove unworthy or false to my oath of allegiance, may
my deceived fellow workers mete out to me such punish
ment as they deem adequate to fit my treachery."
"To all of this you most solemnly pledge yourself
before God and men."
"I do."
"May God help you," the president s voice was al
most a sob.
"Has Farley taken the oath ?" came a voice from the
door as a large man pushed his way in.
"He has," the president answered.
"Well, he s a traitor and a spy ?" the big man shouted
as he made rapidly for the front of the hall.
"Brother this is an
"Let me out of this!" Farley shrieked and struck
viciously at the guide who clung to him, "Let me out,
you damned " he thundered, and pulling away from
the guide, made a dash for the door. Shaking in every
fiber of his body, he was recaptured and half led, half
dragged before the presiding officer.
"This is a most serious charge, brother, a charge of
treason coming on the heels of your most solemn oath,"
the president s voice was tense.
"And I can prove it," the big man declared, puffing
after his exertions.
"Produce your proof," came from the chair.
"That s easy ; this guy who calls himself Farley isn t
Farley at all. He is one of those Corporations Protec
tive something s spies, and he works in old Holdon s
plant, and we ve got the goods on him."
"Brother, is this true?" the president asked.
"True or not, I m game. You run me into a regu
lar plant, and I ve got to take my medicine "
He got no further ; the president shouted, in order to
be heard "The committee on traitors will take this
worse than scat) in charge."
Farley broke away from the guide and struck at the
first man who attempted to lay hands upon him, but five
minutes later he was carried out of the hall unconscious.
"Bring in the next candidate."
WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SPIES 321
And again at the proper time, the big man at the
door made his charge of treason against an oath-bound
member, Who thought he had joined the moulders union,
and again the presiding officer called "Bring in the next
candidate."
In the end three men had gone through the intitia-
tion and of the three, Farley alone showed fight.
Johnson and Jones both confessed, begged, promised
and pleaded, yet they went the same way. From the al
ley, three closed carriages, each carrying three pas
sengers, issued at various times that night and whirled
away into the maw of the town.
"A labor leader overcome with eloquence," one man
said to another at the alley s moufh as two men carried
a third to the waiting carriage and bundled him in.
"Or rotgut," the other laughed.
Price sat at his desk the next morning, busy with a
refractory thought when Moses Webster entered. "Mr.
Farley s in a cab says he can t come in, and wants to
see you."
"What? Farley? Isn t he working?"
"Don t look like it," Moses admitted aloud, and to
himself he said : "I wonder what they did to him ?"
"Farley!" Price went white when he saw the bat
tered spy propped up in a corner of the cab. "In the
name of God, man "
"I don t want to hear no more name of God for a
year," Farley interrupted with a snarl. "I got my fill
of that last night."
"But but man, what s the matter with you?"
"I ve been eaten up and spit out, that s what s the
matter, and see here" he loosened his suspenders on one
side and pulling his clothing apart, disclosed a great livid
welt upon his hip.
Price wide-eyed and disconcerted, stood silent.
"Yes, damn them, and there s another just like it on
my back. I ve got to get into a hospital and get fixed
up; that s why I am here I want money."
"You want money ? Why, man, you are paid by the
Protective."
"That s all right, but I need it now, and bad. I tell
you I m all in. Those devils almost killed me."
322 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Mr. Price, you are wanted on the phone. Some
hospital says a man there claims to have been slugged by
union men and says you will "
Price went hastily to the phone. When he returned,
he simply asked the waiting man how much he needed.
"Oh, a hundred will see me started all right and
say, Price " when he had pocketed the money "my
advice to you is to give the men something and don t
try to run any more of our kind in on them. They are
the wisest bunch I ever went up against. I ll write."
Price went all the way to the street corner and stood
staring after the cab. "Now what could he have meant?"
he asked himself as he went slowly back to his office.
Mechanically, he picked up a morning paper. A two-
column scare-head caught his eye and he read :
"MORE UNION SLUGGERS IN MURDEROUS ATTACK.
Three Inoffensive Citizens in as Many Districts of the City
Mercilessly Beaten While on their Way Home from
Downtown District.
At midnight W. Y. Farley, a machinist, was found at the
back door of a saloon on Sixty-third street in a frightful con
dition. As near as could be gathered from his disconnected
story, he had had some trouble with a union or with cer
tain members of it some time ago, and had all but forgotten
it, when he was set upon by a dozen men somewhere on Hal-
sted, north of Sixty-third street, while on his way home. He
was terribly beaten and evidently left for dead.
The second case is more atrocious, if that be possible. A
moulder, who refuses to give his name for fear of the union s
slugging committee, was found about one o clock this morn
ing by Policeman Dooley on Clark, near Lincoln Park. He
had been assaulted on Wells street while going quietly home.
Besides numerous bruises, this man was terribly burned, with
acids, it is thought. At the county hospital he gave the name
of one of our leading employers, but asked that no mention
be made of the case, as he feared for his life.
The third case, furnishing substantial proof that certain
labor organizations of this city are banded together in a con
spiracy to intimidate or murder individual workers who re
fuse to be cajoled or driven into the unions, comes from the
west side. On Madison street near Western avenue a belated
pedestrian stumbled over a man lying at the entrance to a
dark alley. An alarm was given, and when assistance arrived
the victim of a union s vengeance was carried to a drug store
and revived. His story is materially the same as of the two
quoted above.
A hard-working mechanic, trying to earn an honest living
WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SPIES 323
as a blacksmith, is approached by emissaries of the black
smiths union, who, it seems, are preparing to compel their
employer to grant certain demands or have his busine:?
wrecked.
This man, who desires to have his name withheld for a
time, refused to listen to the union agitators, and was point
edly told that yesterday was his last day of grace. Laugh
ingly, he informed them that he still lived in a free country
and proposed to remain free. As a result he lies bruised and
burned in the Sisters Hospital, and his family, in Cleveland,
Ohio, may take what little comfort they can out of the state
ment that he will live."
"So, that s how it panned out," Price said aloud,
after reading the newspaper report of the "slugging."
"They must have been a bunch of dubs, but who the
devil put the unions next?"
An office boy stood at Price s elbow.
"Well, what now?"
"Please sir, some of the men wants to see you."
"Well, I m here ; show them in."
And in they came, five of them, led by a big burly
fellow from one of the forges who pulled at his coat
collar and cleared his throat at every step. The dele
gation filed into the office and arranged themselves in a
row, each looking at his neighbor for encouragement
and finding in the faces of his fellows an equal embar
rassment, driving all thought of a fixed purpose from
their minds. Price, always insolent and overbearing with
the men, eyed this delegation with open contempt, and
they felt it instinctively rather than by process of reason
ing, as their eyes turned from time to time, during the
leaden moments of silence to his sneering face.
"Well, men, what s the matter? Have you struck?"
"Hem, hem, you tell him Smith," the big burly man
from the forge turned appealing eyes upon a little thin-
faced fellow at the end of the line.
"I wasn t elected no chairman of this here commit
tee," Smith protested.
"Well, men, whichever one of you is to make the
spiel, let s have it." Price grinned sardonically at the
foot-shuffling group. "I d ask you to sit down, but I m
in a hurry," he explained.
"Th men did lect me chairman an an I had some
resolutions as has bin passed." The man from the
forge fumbled in his pockets, and Price, with out-
324 MILLS OF MAMMON
stretched hand and snapping fingers, sat square-jawed
and grim.
"You put them resolutions in your hip pocket, Jim.
I seen you," one of the committee ventured.
"So I did, so I did." Jim heaved a sigh of relief,
as he pulled out the document in question, and placed it
in Price s outstretched palm.
Price tapped the papers on the desk. "Well, men,
say it and get out what else?"
"Why, just this here ; we gives you one week from to
day to make up your mind in, an we ll be back here
for an answer, that s all."
"What do you want? Don t you know that if Hoi-
don was here, the last one of you would have been fired
out into the street long ago? I ve put up with you and
your insolence just as long as I m going to." He got
up and kicked the chairs back. "Now get out; for a
cent I d fire the whole bunch."
"Do it, do it, and we ll take the last man in the works
out with us," the big, burly man from the forge an
nounced with a meaning shake of his huge labor grimed
fist, having found both voice and control of his other
faculties at last, "You try it on, Mister!" he taunted
from the doorway. "We ll be here one week from to
day for our answer to them demands and if you ain t
lookin for trouble, take my advice and consider them
serious."
The committee could be seen from the office window,
breaking up into individual units and so making itself a
part of the great labor army in the Holdon plant.
"Well, I ll be literally" the superintendent com
mented, as he stood watching the men as they went to
their several shops. "One week, one week," and turning
to the desk, he stood looking at the thumb^marked "de
mands" of the men.
M oses Webster entered the office and laid a telegram
on Price s desk. "Cabled from Bombay," was his terse
comment as he turned to leave the room. Price picked
up the cipher message, and gazed at it speculatively be
fore taking up Moses translation just beside it.
"Closed contract for biggest job in India. Specifica
tions follow. Rush your work. Holdon."
Price read it and sat dawn limply. At any other
WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SPIES 325
time he would have rejoiced that the job they had fig-
ired on for two years had been safely landed, but to
day the news of this success carried another meaning.
He had determined to bluff it out with the men when
they came for their answer the next week. Now in the
light of Holdon s cable to rush work, he couldn t think
of inviting a strike. An hour after Price had been made
acquainted with the contents of Holdon s message, the
council of the unions was also possessed of the news and
from the leaders word went to the men that their de
mands would be granted.
"There s only one thing to do," Yancey told Price the
day before the committee was to call for its answer.
"And that "
"And that is to grant the demands of the men."
Price scowled and Yancey hurried on: "They ain t
asking much only to be put back on the old basis, with
an increase of about 3 per cent in the mechanical de
partments."
"But what right have they to make such demands?"
"The right organization gives them, I guess."
"But there isn t a handful of them that s organ "
"And there you are mistaken," Yancey hastened to
correct him. "Practically all my men are organized, and
they are my best mechanics at that."
"Do you," Price turned an anxious face to the fore
man, "do you really believe they would strike if these
demands were not granted?"
"As sure as fate." Yancey answered, and enlarged
upon the theme : "You see, Mr. Price, the men have
been restless since you changed the work and prices, and
that spy business has not helped matters any. Besides,
they have gotten it into their heads that if Holdon was
here they would never have been put on piece-work in
short, that he does not know of the changes you have
made, and would not stand for them if he did, and they
have not been slow to grasp the fact that if this is the
case you won t dare to face a strike."
Price sat, biting his lips, while Yancey put the case
thus bluntly. For a time there was silence after the
foreman ceased speaking, then Price looked up to say:
"I ll think the matter over, Yancey, I suppose the
326 MILLS OF MAMMON
committee will be here on time/ He had tried hard to
smile, but had not quite succeeded when the foreman
left the office.
It proved an easy victory for the men. Thursday
was the day set for the committee to call upon the super r
intendent, but he forestalled them by having notices
posted on the bulletin-board, and upon all the shop doors,
to the effect that commencing the next month the old
system of work would prevail, and an increase of two
and one-half per cent in wages would be paid from that
date.
There was rejoicing among the men from end to end
of the great plant. It is needless to say this rejoicing did
not reach into Price s office. That gentleman was
cudgeling his wits in a vain endeavor to evolve a plan
which would lead him to the discovery of the "leak"
through which the unions had gotten next to his hired
spies. And, although he failed, he still hoped to get in
touch with some worker in the plant who would be able
to give him the right "steer."
PART II.
CHAPTER I.
A DETECTIVE STORY.
"Will he some, Mickey?" The speaker looked up
from her work upon a tiny garment.
"Yes, missus, he ll come fast enough dis time."
"What did you write him?" she demanded, even in
her distress, jealous that any one should have more pow
er over the man than she possessed.
"A business letter, strictly," Mickey answered with
out looking up from a copy of the "Old Sleuth" library.
"Mickey," she walked over to him and put her hands
upon his head and strove to make him look at her. "You
haven t given me a good, square look since you wheedled
me into moving here, and you are always looking at me
when you think I don t see you. Mickey, you know my
heart is breaking; can you sit by and see me suffer day
after day and refuse to tell me if you know anything
about about about things?" Her eyes were bright,
a dry bright, that told of tears spent in the nights that
had gone before.
Mickey had set his jaws and with neck stiffened re
sisted her effort to make him look at her. He knew if
his eyes ever looked into hers while that plea was on her
lips he would surrender and the whole story would come
out, and this did not suit his purpose. Finally he said :
"Missus, he s a-comin this week sure, an if he
leaves youse again, an youse kin say to me, Mickey, I
don t love him no more an* T won t have nothin t do
with him, I ll tell youse everything I knows an it s a
heap. But, you must promise you won t say nothin t
him about it."
"I will not promise to deceive my husband," she pro
tested.
"Yer husband?" It was a question.
327
328 MILLS OF MAMMON
In a twinkling Estella was on her knees by his
side.
"Oh, Mickey! Mickey! I thought you didn t
know."
"Missus, don t, don t, youse ll kill me." He got to
his feet. "I knows it all, lady, an I hope God strikes
me dead if I don t wish I d croaked before I ever seen
Jo , either of youse." He rushed from the room
and left Estella upon her knees by his chair.
Mickey was sure Joel would visit Cairo that week.
He had made excuse that his business would keep him in
the north for at least another month in his last letter to
Estella. Still, Mickey was sure he would write and tell
her he would arrive that week. When they left Michi
gan City Mickey had three hundred and fifteen dollars,
the proceeds of the furniture sale, and the two hundred
dollars left at the house by Joel.
Mr. James Y. Johnson had wired Estella on a Sat
urday to give possession of the furniture the next Mon
day and go to No. , Hendee street, Cairo, 111., and
that he would arrive there the following Tuesday.
Arrived at Cairo, mistress and servant found that
Joel had wired for a cottage and telegraphed two hun
dred dollars to the real estate man to be delivered to
Mrs. James Y. Johnson. Mickey, with an eye single to
the future, suggested that they take up the two hundred
dollars at the real estate office and buy as little furniture
as they could possibly get along with, and save the money
for other expenses. Estella agreed. In fact, she would
have agreed to anything proposed to her by Mickey, so
completely mystified was she over the order that had
come to her to move.
Tuesday came and went, and still no letter for her.
Two months passed and Mickey had received two
letters under his new name, while she had received but
one, enclosing one hundred dollars for expenses. She
turned the money over to Mickey with the remark that
he might as well keep it, she didn t go downtown any
way.
When nine weeks had passed, Estella received a let
ter, and ran to her room to read it. Mickey, standing
at the dining room door, heard a low moan, and running
in, found her stretched upon the floor insensible. He
A DETECTIVE STORY 329
gathered her up in his arms and kissed her and cried
over her as he put her on the bed. Then he picked up
the letter and hastened to a neighbor s to get help.
While the women worked over Estella, he read Joel s
letter. The sum and substance of it was that business
would keep him away another month. Couldn t she find
another man to amuse herself with, or was she too far
gone for that?
One of the women came out of Estella s room, look
ed curiously at Mickey a moment, then said:
"Your wife ought to have a woman with her, sir."
"My wife! Why, she ain t my wife. Her man s a
swell guy; I m a errand boy."
The woman grinned and went back. But, as a re
sult of their neighborly interest, Estella had a servant
girl, black as coal and as good humored as a pet coon,
duly installed the next day.
That night as Mickey lay thinking of the misery
he had seen in Estella s eyes as he sat down to his sup
per, he decided to bring Joel to Cairo if the whole heav
ens fell as soon as he got there.
"I ve bin a lyin , low-lived, white-livered whelp ever
since I took dis job, an one lie more or less ain t a-goin
to sink th ship. I m goin t write him first thing in th
mornin ." And this is the letter :
Mr. Manning, care Eagle Club, Chicago:
Affectionly yours;
This here letter gits away frum me when I haint got bud
$11.00 and no sence, an* I got all th . money yor womming
had too.
Captyn, it was this way. i got too tips on a race horse
down to Memfies what was to run thaer. i had it doped out
to me bi a fellow wot sayed he knowed, an he lyed. Then i
backs anothyre pony a 20 to 1 shoot to git da coin back, an
dammitt, that one gits blancketyd to. Say we got to have
some money cause we can t live much on this aire. And you
wanter come rite along ith the money, cause i got somthynze
i must tell you i don t dares to rite it. John Williams,
Yourse treuley,
Mickey Dougherty.
P. s. i aint foolisch. Yo must come this hear weak er i
sells da furnisher an we comes to Chi.
youse trueley. Mickey Dougherty
nix John Williams
At the Eagle Joel sat with a couple of congenial com-
330 MILLS OF MAMMON
panions recounting the features of a little splurge they
had engaged in the night before at Madam Vaughn s,
when one of the attaches signalled Joel, who shook his
head; the man persisting, Joel got up and went over to
a vacant table in the smoking parlor. There the man
joined him, and taking Mickey s letter from his pocket,
said:
"Mr. Holdon, this came under special delivery, as
you see, so you will excuse me for interrupting you."
A silver dollar was Joel s answer, but he scowled
frightfully as he opened the envelope.
When he had mastered the contents of the letter we
have read, he sat staring ahead.
"The little beggar," he muttered. "So he took a
whirl with the ponies and is broke. He says Estella
gave him all her money. She probably lied to the little
runt, but after all, his threat that he will sell the stuff
they have and come to Chicago will have to be looked
after. I was a fool to take him on in the first place. He
knows too much about my people." He sat silent, biting
his nails and frowning. "Yes, we might as well have it
over with. I ll run down and give Mickey a little money,
and the woman enough to see her through her trouble.
Then, I m done with the whole business."
He rejoined his companions and seemed as free of
care, did this man with money enough to buy twentieth
century indulgences from society, as men felt who were
once able to buy like indulgences from a ruling church.
Had Mickey gambled on the races and lost? Not he;
instead he had established quite a reputation as a curb
stone broker, who would take a watch worth ten dollars,
or a revolver worth five dollars for a week or two, as
security for a small sum at big interest. No, he had not
lost money, and as he waited the coming of Joel, his
greatest uneasiness resulted from fear that Estella would
lose confidence in him, and he did not feel that he could
trust her with his secret.
"When he s gone, I ll jest tell her why I sent fer him.
We was all out of money, cause I lost it, but I won t
lose no more. An ef she wants t lecture me, I guess I
cud stand it. Fac s is, I d give anything t j see her get
up enough ginger t cuss some one out proper."
When Joel reached Cairo the second day after he re-
A DETECTIVE STORY 33!
ceived Mickey s letter, he went to a hotel and from there
sent a negro boy with a verbal message to the cripple.
"Wat s dat, boy? Take dat mush outin yer chops
an talk Mericain , cain t yer?"
"Day s a gent, name of Manning to de hotel wants
powerful bad t see you-all, an him sais you-all was i"
come erlong wid me," the boy repeated.
"The gent says all of us is ter come, does he?"
Mickey demanded, wondering why he wanted Estella to
go to the hotel.
"No, him says jus you-all is to come, an him says
not fer me t tell you-all fore no women folkses."
"That s more like it, me -buck. Jist wait till I gits
ready, will youse? Go round th corner an wait. I ll
be there in a jiffy."
Mickey ran to his room and put a short thirty-eight
calibre revolver in his pocket, then hid his money and
started. When they entered the hotel lobby Manning
was not in sight, and they were going out to look about
when the clerk called them.
"Looking for Mr. Manning?"
"Yep." The clerk looked hard at the twisted little
figure, called "Front" and motioned the visitors to fol
low the bell boy.
"Well, whose there?" Joel demanded, when the bell
boy knocked.
"It s me, Mr. John Williams," Mickey sang out.
Joel opened the door, but only scowled, when Mickey
saluted him with a "Howdy, Captain."
Pulling a quarter from his pocket, Joel handed it to
the negro boy, caught Mickey by the shoulder and pushed
him into the room.
When those on the outside had started down the hall,
he locked the door and put the key into his pocket.
Mickey had always been credited with having a grain of
"sand," for each atom of his shrunken body, but as he
looked into Joel s eyes when he turned from the door he
felt that he had not made a mistake when he put the re
volver in his pocket.
"Well," Joel stood silent glaring at his visitor.
"Water s deep in that well, ain t it? Youse seem to
take a long time to reach bottom."
"I don t want any lip from you, my man, and "
332 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Don t need to have none: jist talk biz; I hain t in
th well business nohow."
"Say, you young devil, I ve a notion to wring your
neck." Joel took a step toward the cripple.
"An again, youse has a notion not t do it. I hain t
wantin no trouble er nothin , but it s jist as I told youse
in me letter. We got to have some of th mazuma t buy
stuff t live on. An I thought youse wanted me to keep
youse posted. Calculate I am goin t write bout th two
men as come here from Chi a-lookin up Steller? Not
me ! I wants to see youse, so we kin lay our plans."
At mention of men who were on his trail, Joel turned
a sickish white.
"You say two men have been here looking for her ?"
he asked, and sat down.
"Yep, they went to Michigan City first, an got a
description of youse an th woman, from some of them
old pussies as got t be imitate with her, and "
"It s the detectives her people hired in Chicago to
trace her." Joel paced up and down the room. "When
did you last see them?" He halted in front of his
caller.
"Why, it was th day afore I writ to youse. I was
downtown to buy some things an one of them twigs me.
I didn t tumble fer a while an when I did, it was too
late. He jist kept to my heels an I knowed ef I went
t th house he d shadow the crib till he got his lamps on
yer woman. Then th game wud be off. So what does
I do but take them groceries an go most t th other end
of town, an th first big house I comes t I goes in a
gate at th side, an when he couldn t see me no more, I
heaves th stuff over a fence an takes out th back way."
"And then?" Joel was smiling.
"Why, Captain, I makes me git-away an keeps
mighty close till after I gits that letter off. Then I
cusses myself fer two solid hours fer bein th biggest
fool in th state."
"I don t see "
"Youse don t see? W y it s plain as a rummie s
nose. W y, s pose youse ud a-come down here an them
fly cops ud a spotted youse huh !"
"Damn it, I hadn t thought of that," the employer
frowned.
A DETECTIVE STORY 333
"No, ner me, but I puts in th most of the day a-think-
in what a mess I d got youse inter, an I says : Th*
captain allus hes bin square as a box with youse, Mickey,
an this ain t no time to be runnin him up against no
plain clothes men, an by crimeny, I twigged the racket
that ud send em out of town on th double quick."
"Did you do it, Mickey, did you ?" Joel fairly beamed
so great was his relief.
"Yep, an done it jist as easy. Yisterday mornin I
comes downtown an* waits around watchin fer dem
geezers. Purty soon, I sees one ov em in front of th
Planters hotel. I watches till he walks t th corner,
then I comes up behin him an asks him jist like I d
never seed him afore: Say, mister, could youse give a
cripple somethin t do? Lord, he bit quick. Sure
thing/ says he. come t th hotel/ he says. Well, we
goes down there an he brings me up t his room, an
telephones t th clerk to send out somewheres fer his
side kick. Say, Captain, he was most as well pleased
s ef he d drawed a prize, but he didn t make no move t
do biz till his partner come. Then they both lit in, an
I done some tall lyin . They asks me what I was doin
yisterday. W y, I was deliverin groceries, special order.
How long I bin in th town? Most six weeks. Did X
come with a man describin youse, Captain Yep."
"You didn t "
"Wait, Captain. I says yep/ Was der a lady?
Yep. Does she look like so an so? Yep/ again. An
I could see dem geezers a-winkin t one another an a-
swellin up t think what a easy mark they d struck.
Well, me man/ says one of eni, where are they now?
An right there I does th baby act fit t split. Sa y, I kin
go on th vaudivil stage. W y, them fly cops jist sets
there an says goo-goo words like they s talkin t a kid.
Tell us where they are an* we ll see at youse gits
enough money t go back t Chicago on/ one of em tells
me; an I tells de pinchers youse takes de gal an skips
t Atlantic, Georgia, a-leavin me in de lurch most two
weeks ago."
"You didn t ! Glory, but you re the cheese, Mickey."
Joel reached out a hand that Mickey pretended not to
see.
334 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Sure, I did, an after a-doin all dis, you hits de town
an acks like youse wants t eat me up."
"I m sorry, sorry, old man." Again he reached out
a hand; this time Mickey saw it, shook it, and shook it
quick.
"And they hit the grit ?"
"Sure Mike ! I watched em till they got their tickets,
seen em on th train, then I looks at th ten plunks dey
puts up fer me con talk an goes home."
"Say, Mickey, you re a jewel, and we won t quarrel
if you did lose money on the ponies." Joel was in the
best of humor. "I had intended to give you a blowing
up and send word to Stell to go to the devil, but if her
people are on my trail I ve got to stay in the game until
they give up. Lord, if the detectives were to get next
to me it would cost thousands of dollars and no end of
trouble to get clear. You did the right thing, Mickey,
the only thing, and I ll be darned if I can understand
how you thought it all out."
The magnate s son paced the length of the room,
while Mickey sat with his eyes on the floor.
"You ll have to move again, Mickey, and this time I
guess you better go to Texas."
"Texas?" Mickey s voice came from his shoes. To
him Texas was just on the other side of the world.
"Yes, there s Dallas. It s a fine town, and only about
a day s ride from here. Yes, you ll have to move. I ll
go up and see Estella, and tell her the climate will suit
her better there. Come on !"
Mickey communed with himself as they went in si
lence to the house.
"So we goes t Texas th skunk! Well, it s me as
goes wherever she does. Ain t she most educated me
w y, I kin almost talk United States now, an I kin I
wonder if kin is right I kin write somethin fierce. An*
when it comes to swear words, she s jest about broke
me of that. W y, she don t need only t look sorry, an
I m dam no, I m doggoned ef I don t want t go jump
in th river. I ll go t Texas, but not less th missus says
so."
CHAPTER II.
JOEL LEAVES CAIRO.
What passed between Joel and the woman he had
so grossly betrayed, beyond the scene enacted when Es-
tella saw them as they entered at the gate and with a
cry of glad surprise threw herself into Joel s arms, to
be fairly picked up and carried into her room, Mickey
never knew. He saw no more of Estella that nig j ht, but
he had a business talk with Joel, who instructed him to
send Estella to Dallas within a day or two, and to tell
the servant-girl she was going to Chicago. Then he
was to dispose of the furniture and follow. He gave
Mickey the name of a Dallas hotel, and after handing
him two hundred dollars, promised to send him as much
more the next month.
In the morning Mickey was on the front porch, when
he heard Estella and Joel discussing the move to Dal
las. Joel said something about a hospital, and Estella
seemed to be pleading with him. Finally, Joel gave ut
terance to an oath, and again asked a question. Mickey
strained every faculty to catch her reply, but he had lit
tle need to exert himself, the reply came clear and true.
"My God, my God ! What have I done? You, of all
men, to ask me to do this?" Her voice was raised, al
most a shriek. "I will not! I will not kill my baby!"
There came a sound as of a dead weight falling, hur
ried steps from the dining room, and Mickey standing
as one stunned heard Joel cursing in the hall as he
halted to get his suit-case, coat and hat. Mickey ran in
just as Joel was struggling into his coat.
"Get that wench and see to Stell, she s fainted. I m
going. Do all I ve told you and I ll -make it right with
you."
He rushed out of the house, but Mickey was on his
knees beside the woman he loved better than his own
life before Joel had reached the door.
335
336 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Oh, my poor Stella, my poor Stella. I ll kill him;
I will ; so help me God ! I ll kill him ef he ever touches
youse agin/ 5
For the second time in his life, he kissed her lips and
hair, then left her to find the girl, who had gone to visit
with a neighbor s servant a few minutes before.
"I m goin ter give her a chance t hear what I ve
got t say jist as soon as s he comes outen it sufficient,"
Mickey said to himself when assured that Estella was
able to go to her room. And he further promised himself
a good kicking for having brought Joel to the house.
"Gee, but he wus easy ; an two hundred more plunks
t de good, an* we ain t a-goin t move, not immegeately.
I got to collect on my capital w at I ve loaned out. An*
them niggers an poor whites is dead easy when they has
a sport t deal wid," was his comment as he -went down
town to make sure that Joel had gone.
For two days, Estella kept her room and when she
did appear, the third day after Joel s departure, Mickey s
eyes took on a hard, cold glaze as he looked at her wan
face, beautiful even in it s sadness. She sat in a big
rocker by the window and motioned him to bring a chair
and sit by her. There was a world of weariness in her
voice as she asked :
"When do we move again, Mickey?"
"Not till youse is ready," he answered.
- "But didn t J , didn t he tell you something about
going right away?"
"I didn t understan it that way, less youse wants
t go."
"Oh, I do Mickey. We may have stayed too long
now ; they may come back."
"Who s comin back, lady?" Mickey was frightened.
He thought that Estella was "seeing things."
"The detectives, the men my people hired to look
for me."
Mickey s eyes widened. His relief was so great, he
almost laughed aloud.
"Who told yer they was fly cops here lookin fer
youse?" he demanded.
"He did he told me, when I refused to move again
without him, he told me I could either do that or let
my people find me."
JOEL LEAVES CAIRO 337
"It s a dirty, low-lived lie!" Mickey was hammering
the window-sill with as much gusto as though it were
the head of Joel Holdon.
"A lie, Mickey? Oh, don t say he deliberately lied
to me," the woman pleaded.
"It wouldn t be th first one, would it?" he demanded.
"An fer w y should youse be frightened, missus; don t
youse want yer folks t find youse?" The question was
asked in all honesty.
"No! No! No! Anything tut that, anything but
that!"
"Well, I ll be dam scuse me missus, but youse lays
it over enybody. Say, why don t youse want t see yer
people?"
"Oh, Mickey, I have no wedding ring, no ring !" At
the last word, she seemed to grow faint and struggled
for breath. Mickey bent over her.
"Missus, missus; I ll git youse a weddin ring; a
nice, big, fat one like they has in Chi in th big stores.
Jist youse let me git th size of your which one is it
th guys what loves -wimmen puts it on ?" In spite of her
sorrow, Estella could not help but smile at the earnest
face, and eloquent eyes of her esquire, as he stood by
her side fitting a bit of paper to her finger.
"I ll git one ef it costs a hundred." he declared. "Ef
that s all as keeps youse from a wantin to* see yer folks,
it s a-goin t be fixed."
For a long time, Estella sat with her hand upon his
arm, debating whether or not to open the eyes of this
vassal of hers to that part of the moral code in which his
education had been neglected. Finally, she turned to
him with:
"Mickey, you must not pay too much for my wedding
ring, we must move some day soon and we can t go
without money."
"Don t youse git t frettin bout money, missus; I
got five hundred dollars."
"Five hundred dollars!" Estella exclaimed. "Five
hundred? Why he told me you had gambled all your
money away, and all I gave you!"
"It was a white-livered lie lady, a low-down lie. I ll
tell youse jist how it was. Youse see "
338 MILLS OF MAMMON
"No, Mickey, I won t hear a word. Go ami buy my
wedding ring, then we will talk about moving."
"But, missus, I want t tell youse how it was."
"And I cannot listen to you, Mickey," she pro
tested.
As he stood in the hall getting into his coat, he heard
her say : "I wonder why James told me that I wonder
why?"
"Well, Pll be literally clawed inter shoestrings, ef T
knows what good she s a-goin ter git outin a weddin
ring. Queer idea she s got, but, by crimeny, I d git her
one ef it took th last cent in the house." So he com
muned with himself on the way down town ; and get the
ring he did. When he slipped it on her finger, he re
membered how the heroes in his stories always kissed the
hand of the lady when they couldn t do any better, so
Mickey planted a good, honest smack fair on the back
of Estella s hand, then bolted.
For a week, Estella said nothing about moving, and
Mickey had come to the conclusion that his business as
a curb-broker was not to be disturbed, when he was in
vited to a conference.
"Now, Mickey," she began. "I guess we better be
getting ready to move. In fact, we should have started
a week ago."
"Youse mean it?" His surprise was only too evi
dent. "Youse ain t goin to go where he says, to Texas ?"
"Yes, to Texas."
"But, missus, he won t never go away down there t
see youse an he s told me "
A hand was placed over his lips. "Mickey, Mickey,
not another word. I m going to give him another
chance."
Mickey twisted himself free, looked up into her face,
radiant with a new-born hope.
"Another chanst," he repeated lamely.
"Yes, another chance. Mickey, I m going to Dallas
and when my baby comes, I I " Her hand went up to
her throat. "I, O God! I must believe in him or go
mad. Help me, Mickey, help me!" His arms, like the
arms of a great ape, went out and held her. Something
she saw in his eyes frightened her, and he, quick to see,
released her as she began struggling. " Scuse me,
JOEL LEAVES CAIRO 339
missus, I jist thought youse was goin f fall." Then, as
she sat down, he hurried on. "I kin git youse away ter-
morrer, an when I sells th junk an squares everything
up, I ll come erlong. An youse jist go to th hotel an
stay till I come. We ll look fer a house an a good
nigger girl soon as ever I gits there."
"Why not take Nancy?"
"Nixie, Missus, it can t be did. His instructions
wus to not let nobody know nothin . An I m to tell
Nancy youse goes to Chicago. If youse is boun to give
him another charist, do it so as he can t have a word to
say but that youse did what he says."
"Oh, Mickey, I don t know what I would do with
out you; you always know just what to do. Do you
think I ll ever be able to repay you?"
"I don t never expect notliin lady ;" he looked at her
for an instant, his heart in his eyes. "It won t ever be
possible fer me to do everythin I d like to fer youse; I
won t live long enough. An lady, they ain t no pay in
this world fer me. Look at me !" The long arms were
lifted high above the shrunken, twisted body and a
pleading face turned to her. "Look lady ; did youse ever
think that I might be like other men inside dis here
cracklin dey left me t live in ? Well, I is ; an lady, I
knows they s nothin in this worl fer me, so youse need
n t worrit none bout payin me."
He was gone, a poor, little, limping figure with
bowed head passed out of sight, and the woman who
had been wholly absorbed in her own sorrow found a
mother s love welling up in her heart for this one of
God s children who had been grievously sinned against
was being sinned against. As she thought more of his
suffering, her own occupied just that much less of her
little world, and it was largely because of this new in
terest in her life that she was enabled to face the or
deal ahead as bravely as she did.
If she could have had assurance that society would
accept the story of her betrayal, her struggle, her pray
er and final surrender as a badge of honor, rather than
the mark of sharfte; if she had not known that all the
virtuous women, and the men attached to them, both
married and single, whether virtuous or immoral, would
point the finger of scorn at her, brand her with the "scar-
34O MILLS OF MAMMON
let letter" and leave her to rot on the highway; if she
had not known this, she would have gone to her mother,
to meet her first and greatest trial, hard by the gates of
death. But, she knew. Oh, you dear good Christians (?)
what did she know ? She knew that unless she took home
with her a man to whom she yielded her body on de
mand, and offered him to virtue as a reason for her con
dition, virtue would refuse to reason at all. And she,
who came without the man, regardless of the wrongs
man had done her, virtue would not hear ; for, forsooth,
without the man she must be unclean. How is this,
good people? If a pimple-faced, disease-eaten, siphi-
lized reprobate shall induce a woman to marry him, and
she bring this disease-breeding pimple to you, my virtu
ous friends, and say, "This is my husband," you accept
them and their relations and call them virtuous ; yet are
they not filthy ?
Estella knew, and valued the wedding-ring Mickey
bought her, because the very presence of that circlet of
gold upon her finger would satisfy all beholders that she
had a right as a wife to become a mother : would satisfy
them, so long as she might be able to ward off their
friendship, and its consequent inquisitiveness,
CHAPTER III.
CONCERNING CHARLEY.
Martin, the detective, and Price met at lunch one day
when the latter had all but given up hope of getting
Charles Harris back.
"You remember that Harris you sent me to hunt?"
Martin asked casually, over the cigars.
"Yes, certainly, why?" Price was all animation in a
moment.
"Well, he wasn t down in the country, never had
been," the other announced, laconically.
"You reported that, I believe."
"Yes, but I haven t reported that I found him."
"Found him; good for you." Price reached out a
hand.
"He wants him mighty bad. Ought to be some
dough in this for Martin," the detective thought as he
took the proffered hand.
"Well, where is he?"
"Down the line."
"Can you get him up here?"
"Sure thing, but it will cost money, and have to be
handled diplomatically." He eyed the man across the
table narrowly and hazarded a guess. "He don t love you
any," he ventured.
"No," Price laughed. "No, I suppose not. How
much will it take to get him up here for an interview?"
"I couldn t promise it short of a hundred dollars."
"How much for expense now?"
"Fifty."
"All right. Can you get him to-morrow? Tell him
I made a failure of my machine and Holdon is willing
to put up money to develop his invention that will bring-
him hot-foot."
"No, I can t go until next week. But you don t need
341
342 MILLS OF MAMMON
to worry; he s perfectly safe where he is. I don t be
lieve he s got money enough to get out of the town."
"That s good," Price commented as they parted.
While Price plotted the consummation of a long con
templated robbery of the worker, the man who had once
had a "vision" was plodding the weary way most labor
ers travel. We may understand him better if we read a
letter written home shortly after he located in Whiting,
where Martin discovered him.
Whiting, Ind., , 19.
Dear Mother You will pardon me, won t you, for not writ
ing you for a month, when I tell you that we have moved
out of Chicago? And in the hurry and worry of moving,
though we had little to carry with us, we didn t forget you,
only waited until we could write and tell you that we had a
fixed address once more.
Mother, I know your first question will be: "Why did you
move?" So I am going to answer it right away. I had to,
mother, mine. I could not go on working at a job where all
my hopes were shipwrecked. Besides, there s every indica
tion, so I hear, that there is to be trouble in the near future
between the Holdon company and their employes, and you
know I want to keep c^ear of that sort of strife, so it probably
Is just as well that I am not there.
Let s see, mother, mine, didn t I tell you in one of my late
letters that I had hopes of getting enough money ahead this
year to enable me to get my moulding machine made and
patented? Well, mother, dear, my dream is shattered. An
other man, a man with money and plenty of business ability,
has a machine under way, a machine like mine, and it s all
up with me. I have felt sort of lost since I found it out, and
at first I was mad enough to have killed the man who had un
wittingly taken so much out of my life. Of course it was
foolish, mother, but I did feel my loss so keenly that I be
lieve Mary was about right when she said I was just about
crazy for a couple of weeks. Don t be alarmed, sweet mother;
I have gotten away from the environment and am back to
normal again and digging away as hard as ever, but with
this difference: I have only to work my hands now; by mind
is taking a sleep.
Seriously, mother, I am alarmed about Mary. She haa
never been the same since our baby died, and each letter she
gets from her mother seems to depress her more and more.
I can t interfere; you know I have not been on good terms
with Mrs. Holcomb s-nce she discovered that I was deter
mined to bring Mary to the city. Besides this, there s the
question of religion; Mary is getting more and more like
her mother in this respect and charges all our trials up to
our sins, and gives her mother s God credit for putting the
mark of his displeasure upon us. Oh, how I wish we could
have just a little of your sweet faith in our home!
CONCERNING CHARLEY 343
Do you know, mother, I am sorry, now that it is too late
to atone in any other way, that I ever made light of your
faith. Somehow I seem to be able to call up your face as it
used to look when I treated your charity work lightly, and
I am sorry. But I couldn t measure and weigh then as I can
now. Oh, mother, mother, a wife is not everything unless
,jhe be nine-tenths mother to the man. Mary is good, true,
pure, and I love her. But you will never need to be jealous
of her. Pshaw! I ought not to write such things.
We are settled in a little bit of a cottage down back of
the great oil plant, where I found work.
Write me, care of general delivery. Guess they thought
people who would live on our poor street did not need num
bers.
I did one mean thing, mother, when I left the city. I ran
away from Mickey Dougherty; you remember him, the little
cripple I used to write about. Well, I ran away from every
body there. I didn t want a single link to bind me to the
memory of my struggle. But it was downright cowardly to
treat Mickey as I did.
Tell father I am hoping that money matters will be in
such shape with me soon that I may be able to send you a
couple of tickets to Whiting. Then, when you get here, we
will spend so much money showing you the big town up the
lake that it will keep me working for months and months be
fore I can get enough scraped together to send you home.
When you go to sleep to-night, won t you give me one of
the kisses I sometimes felt ashamed of, and just say, "God
bless my boy?" We love you. Charley.
CHAPTER IV.
THAT VISION AGAIN.
"Hurrah, Mary, we re going back to Chicago and
my machine is going to be built after all!" Charley,
elated after his interview with Martin, bounded into the
house like a boy.
"That machine again, Charley," the wife complained.
"I thought you promised me never to "
"There, there, Mary/* he attempted to kiss her, but
was pushed away.
"None of your trying to cozzen me into going back
to that awful city."
"Mary, Mary, be reasonable," he pleaded. "Be rea
sonable ; Chicago is no more a door to the bad place than
Whiting is; and besides, Mary, the man who I thought
had beaten me out in making a moulding machine "
"Didn t you promise me?" she stood before him with
an accusing finger uplifted. "Didn t you promise me that
you wouldn t mention that machine again?"
"Yes, but I was without hope then," he protested.
"Charley Harris, mother was right ; that machine was
born of the devil," she began to sob hysterically.
"But, Mary, listen to me. Just think what it means
if I can get this machine "
"Don t! don t! don t!" she screamed, stamping her
foot, and Charley, looking at her, wondered, rubbing his
hand across his eyes, he looked again. "Was she really
getting to look as well as act like her mother?"
"We won t say any more about it, sweetheart," he
told her, as he sat at the table, his heart heavy.
The next morning when he did not start to the shop
when the whistle blew its ten minute summons, his wife
eyed him coldly.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"Going to the city," he answered, whistling.
She had made no comment and lifted a pair of
344
THAT VISION AGAIN 345
straight, tight-drawn lips to meet his proffered kiss
when he was ready to go.
"Poor little girl; between that old she imp of a
mother and her own troubles and our poverty, she s had
a hard time of it ; but, she s got to get rid of the notion
that devils invent machines and use them in the battle
for human souls. I ll win her over and in a year from
now she won t be the same Mary/*
"It s just as mother said," Mary thought to herself,
as she hurried with her little housework. "She said
from the start that the devil had a hand in the building
of that machine and would own any one that had any
thing to do with it."
Taking a letter from between the pages of the family
Bible she sat down in the midst of her work to read
again the last word she had had from her mother. >
God s chastening hand is falling heavily upon your fa
ther, Mary. He s not as spry as he was last year, and don t
go out among them wicked old sinners down to the feed store
like he did. But he is gettin stiff-necked again, a very man
of wrath, and I shudder when I think what his end is likely
to be. But you know I done my best to bring him to re
pentance, and would have, too, if that agent of Satan, your
baby-faced, lyin , deceivin husband hadn t come between us.
I told you jist how it would be; he d either drag you down
into a heathen life with him, or you d have to fight for your
soul, same as I did. I warned you that Sunday-made contrap
tion of his was nothing but the works of the devil made mani
fest, and it is proved true, every word of it. You wrote me
you was awful distrest when your baby died. Oh, daughter,
lift up your eyes to the Lord; He sent it upon you as a pun
ishment for leaving me to follow after a heathen and his gods
of wood and iron. And how can you hope for the love of God
and His peace while you live with a idolater; and Charley
Harris is a idolater. Didn t he say so? Says he: "I can
see God in my machine," and that s idolatory. When you are
ready to fly from the tents of the wicked, from the doorway
to hell and all its abominations, and that s what Chicago is,
write to me, and I will come and get you if T have to crawl.
Your mother, Martha Holcomb.
Carefully folding the letter, she replaced it in the
Bible.
"He can choose between me and the machine; if he
chooses the machine, I m going home."
Had Charley looked in upon her then he would have
been further shocked at the growing resemblance to the
mother, observable in his wife as she went about her
346 MILLS OF MAMMON
work. From her father, Mrs. Holcomb had inherited a
species of insanity and from him she had had long years
of training in its culture. Her only daughter had in
herited the same bent of mind and with trouble, death
and poverty on the one hand and an openly irreligious
(in any dogmatic sense) husband to fill out the measure
of her limited vision, there is little wonder that Mary
Harris put the narrowest of narrow constructions upon
all happenings in her life, and charged all things that
brought trial to the agency of the devil, forgetting the
while to credit God with anything other than a purpose
to let this same devil have his own sweet -will.
"Come and get me; I m ready to go home/
This laconic message was sent on its way the morning
after Charley s visit to the city. And he, thinking his
wife s silence argued that he had convinced her that it
was folly to fly in the face of a Providence that offered
to shower blessings upon them, went to his work with all
the enthusiasm of youth pulsing through his body. He
would give them notice to put another man in his place
by the end of the week at farthest.
Better begin to pack up, Mary ; we ll move next Mon
day. I rented a cottage about four blocks east of where
we lived ; got it from the same agent."
"I don t feel able to pack to-day," she had answered,
and he went to his work, wondering if Mary was going
to be sick.
He had never known her in but two stages, ready
for all the work in sight, or ready for bed. The next
day it was the same with her; she couldn t pack. He
busied himself with odds and ends after supper, while
she sat listlessly rocking, rocking, rocking.
"Something wrong with the girl; I never saw her
that way," he commented, as he stopped work to look
at her.
"I get off at noon to-morrow, Mary," he told her that
night. "The new man came, and if you are not feeling
well, you don t need to touch a thing. This is Friday,
and by Monday I can get everything in shape."
When he returned at noon, a free man, he found the
house in disorder, doors open and the breakfast dishes
still on the table.
"Mary s sick/ was his first thought ; but, an examina-
THAT VISION AGAIN 347
tion of their rooms told- him another story. "She s gone,
gone without a word." He ran from room to room ; then
up and down the length of the lot. A neighbor stuck
her head out of a side window.
"Looking fer yer wife?"
"Yes, yes, where is she?"
"I thought so; didn t I tell you?"
He stood mute watching the neighbor turn to some
one in the room behind her ; then she appeared again.
"An old lady came with an expressman bout eight
o clock, and they hustled two trunks into the wagon and
drove off/
Another head appeared at the window.
"Rather suddent, wasn t it?" the last comer inquired,
and Charley, without a word turned back to his deserted
home.
"You fool, what/d you want to put your lip in for;
you spoiled it all."
"I didn t neither, he was goin anyway."
"He wasn t he d a-told me all about it if you hadn t
butted in."
Charley Harris sat brooding over this new calamity
for an hour. As he reviewed his life from the day he
had determined to win Mary Holcomb s love to the pres
ent hour, he found but one flaw in his conduct toward
the woman who had left his home without a word. He
told himself, over and over again, that if he had not car
ried his troubles home with him, if he had only loved
her more, this thing would not have befallen him. Yet,
as he thought of those last days, a picture of Martha Hoi-
comb in the body of her daughter haunted him, and to
be rid of it, he plunged into the labor of packing his be
longings. While at work he determined to move to the
cottage he had rented and also to send his new address to
his wife. If she wanted to return, the door would be
open and his heart as well. In the meantime, he would
work night and day on the machine ; that would help him
to forget.
So it happened that the next Monday found him in
stalling his household effects in a south side cottage,
while his wife, in her father s home, sat staring dry-eyed
at the sheet of paper on which he had written the new
address.
CHAPTER V.
A SPASM OF VIRTUE.
Snively sat with Pagan and Hilman in a back room,
over the latter s saloon, policy shop, gambling house
and free-and-easy. Pagan was biting her nails, while
Hilman made Rome howl. Pagan had had her say, and
had said it was the last word, but when Hilman, red and
blinking, uttered his plaintive whimper, "Well, if we
have to get the money well, I won t put up again after
this time, that s flat!" Pagan got up and shook a
clinched fist at the cowering Dutchman.
"That s a man all over. Blow and bluster and damn
things blue and then turn around and whimper like a
whipped pup. You make me sick!"
Snively looked up and grinned.
"That s right, grin, you lying blackmailer. You
know I don t dare to hurt you, or I d take you by the
throat, even if I am a woman, and choke the last grin
out of you."
She turned to Hilman again. "You are the beauty
I want to talk to. Here this go-between, Snively, who
has had many a good job from me, comes and demands
that I put up one thousand dollars to keep my joints
from being pulled in the raid the goo-goos are planning.
And you, you big slob " the Dutchman did have
manhood enough to cringe "you told me a month ago
to come to you if they tried to hold me up again for
more than the monthly touch and you d help me."
"But, my God, woman, I have lost my pull, and it is
two thousand dollars they want from me." He was red-
faced and panting.
"Two thousand devils!" Pagan screamed. "You have
money enough, why don t you fight?"
"We have money enough to fight some peoples, but
not that bunch of grafters."
"Don t you think it will be just as well in the end if
348
A SPASM OF VIRTUE 349
you two give -me your promise to pay? You re up
against it. They can force you to pay or quit business."
This was Snively s advice, mildly given.
"But, I tell you, I can t and won t pay it." Pagan
persisted.
"But suppose a couple of countrymen were sent
down to your place next week and you could clear up a
couple of thousand on them. You d do it, wouldn t you?
And especially if I send a man to you, who will as
sure you that, whatever happens to the guys we send
down, you ll be protected?"
Pagan got up, buttoned her coat and went to the
door; both men followed her with their eyes. At the
door s he turned with: "I d kill any man on earth for
one thousand dollars. Send them along. Some day I
may kill a couple for a whole lot less."
"That woman is a devil, Mr. Snively. She is a
devil," was Hilman s compliment.
Snively laughed and asked: "How about our end
of it, August?"
"I told you I can t pay no such money."
"Let s say that I agree to send enough customers
here from the houses that will be raided to make up to
you your two thousand dollars."
"Now, that s more like business; sure, I ll put up.
Why didn t you tell me that at first?"
"I wanted to see the fun. You see, I ve not had
much excitement to-day, and I knew from past experi
ence that if I got you and Pagan together and tried to
make a touch there would be excitement, and I needed
the music, see?" Snively s eyes danced as he explained.
Now that Hilman knew himself to be in the good
graces of the syndicate, he felt a load lifted from his
mind, and still smiling, asked : "Who s behind this raid,
Snively? I haven t seen nothing about it in the papers."
"No, and you won t see anything for a couple of
weeks. Our people are organizing this raid, in anticipa
tion of the annual opening of the gospel mills."
"What ! you helping them preacher sharps ?"
Snively s lips curled in scorn. "You don t mean to
tell me you ain t on and you in business all these years."
"I ain t on to a damned thing but this, Snively,"
Hilman retorted hotly, resenting his visitor s open
35O MILLS OF MAMMON
sneer, "That through your representin our side and
Sullivan representin the city, I m held up every year
for more and more of the profits of the business ; and I
ain t going to stand it much longer." He brought his
big fist down with a bang that made the glasses sing.
Snively put his feet upon the table, lit a cigar and
smiled at the ceiling, as he said : "Funny thing how you
fellers that don t know the game squeal when you have
to put something into the kitty/
"Well, if you have no objection, I d like to know
why I have to feed two kitties?" Hilman had lost his
smile.
"No objection in the world, Hilman. Facts are, I
want to tell you. It will keep you out of trouble; and
some day you may feel like reciprocating." At an en
couraging nod from the host, he went on. "First off,
there s two sides to every question, some have three
sides, and others have four. This business has four
sides; the politicians, and the property-owners is one
side; gospel sharps and goo-goos makes another; that s
two. The big gamblers, sportin houses and policy
kings makes another; that s three. The pikers, porch-
climbers and street walkers makes the fourth. Now you
see all the cards in the deck and with your kind permis
sion, I m going to shuffle them." Hilman nodded.
"Well, every so often, we ve got to have a spasm, a reg
ular goo-goo camp meetin when all the papers hot- foot
it after the politicians and demand a clean town with
the lid screwed on. Before we got organized, there was
nothin to it but hell to pay and the fiddler gone with
the dough, when the goo-goos got ready to shake us
down. Why, man, when we didn t have lawyers hired
by the year didn t have no straw bonds, no detectives,
an no notice of them spasms, there wasn t no one to give
even a square sport a show for his coin. Then we got
pinched and ticketed straight thrqwgk, and the mollies
contributed regularly to the education of the goo-goo s
children. But since we got our side organized, and own
some smart legal sharps, there ain t nothin to it. We
just wear the goo-goos out in court by practicin up-to-
date law, and the mollies only has to contribute to the
edification of the politicians. Now, the gospel sharps
and good citizens can t be fighting all the other sides at
A SPASM OF VIRTUE 351
once and all the time, so they takes it in spasms. And
we have it doped out to us, by side number one that
half belongs to us that the good people are getting
ready to throw another fit; that they ve opened up the
gospel mills for the regular revival campaign against the
devil and all his works."
Hilman roared. Snively surveyed his audience
closely.
"You seem to enjoy being touched," he observed.
"What, me ? Not much !"
"Well, I thought you did, the way you laughed when
I said they were going to throw another fit." He
paused, but, as Hilman was all attention, went on. "It s
their fit that s costing you two thousand bones, my duck.
You see they are bringing in ex-thugs, ex-ball-artists,
ex-horsethieves, ex-gamblers, ex-mollies and ex-anything
else that can carry a tune across the street in a basket
or exhort them in the real, old blowed-in-the-bottle fash
ion. And for a month there ll be hell let loose on the
awful sin of being a sport. When the people that makes
up side number one gets wise to the fact that the spasm s
comin , why, they tips it off to side number three; that
in order to hold the vote of the goo-goos at the next
city election there s got to be a crusade against side num
ber four just as soon as them sky-pilots calls for it. And
there you are."
"But I don t see yet where my two thousand dollars
goes to," Hilman objected.
"You don t? W T ell, I ll be teetotally say, you ain t
a mutt are you? Why, it s plain. Here s us; if them
goo-goos was to get the action they wants wouldn t it
wipe us off the map ?" An affirmative nod. "Well, then,
if we own half the politicians (and it costs money to own
a politician, and you ought to know it), and a lot of the
property-owners and some of the business men are milk
ing us of good money on rents and other things, don t it
stand to reason that they won t want to kill a good
thing? Besides, there s lawyers, detectives, bondsmen,
coppers, and God only knows how many more to pay.
Now Hilman" Snively took his feet from the table and
looked his host straight in the eyes "who s going to put
up the dough to square things with them as has to be
bought? And in the natural course of events, who s
352 MILLS OF MAMMON
going to be raided and have their layouts smashed ? You
see, Hilman, the good tribe are not going to come out of
their spasm until they see some several dray loads of
junk taken in a raid, and they won t quit pray in for the
wrath of God to take a whack at the town until two or
three hundred suckers and a lot of cheap mollies are
hauled before the law sharks. Well, when they sees this
they throws up their hands and shouts, hallelujah, and
comes out of it and shakes hands all around, telling each
other what a great work they ve done. But say, I could
fell them suckers something. My advice to you, Hil
man, is to get in out of the cold again. We ll take you
in, and then, if we ever have to let them raid your place,
you ll have the best lawyer we can find, and get paid for
everything the police either swipes or breaks."
"I m in, all right, and thank you, Snively."
"Oh, that s all right. Your place is big enough and
your business, too. It won t pay you to stay out of the
organization."
Amid Hilman s protestations of friendship and a
desire to do something substantial for his friend, Snive
ly departed. Hilman watched the receding figure a
minute, then went back to his den to ponder over the
revelation that had come to him.
CHAPTER VI.
THE MILL OF THE GODS STOPS.
Beatrice Holdon sat in her splendid home on
avenue, awaiting the arrival of a tardy lover, and the
while Wetherby lounged in the card room of the Eagle.
"By the fumes," he exclaimed, "I most forgot my
appointment with Miss Holdon."
"Going in for some of that sunny-faced old sin
ner s pile, are you?"
"Say, Gardner, don t you know I don t like the tone
of voice you use when you mention Pater Holdon. You
don t mean to insinuate that my future father-in-law is
a bit of a rogue, do you ?"
Gardner, with a front of Jove, handsome, hard and
polished, smiled cynically as he put two hands upon
Wetherby s shoulders.
"Never mind the old rogue elephant to-day, Wether
by. Just center your energies in loving the daughter;
when you get her and need to know something that -will
open the Holdon treasure box to you, should the Hon.
Horace prove a bit close, come to me."
"Say, Gardner," C. Augustus pulled away from the
detaining hands, "I don t half like the look in your eyes,
and I don t mind telling you I don t like the insinuation,
but "
"But, let me finish it for you, old man." Gardner
touched the 1)611. "If what I know will serve you when
the first golden shower has been assimilated, come to me
and I will engage to give you the combinaition to Hoi-
don s chest. But now you surely must go. The fair
one should not be robbed altogether; that will come
later."
"You re a devil, Gardner," C. Augustus declared as
he took his hat, cane and gloves and turned to the door.
At the portal, he .turned back. "I say, Gardner, don t
353
354 MILLS OF MAMMON
forget that you promised to finance that little trip down
to Pluto s Place for the twentieth of next month?
When Wetherby had gone, Gardner turned his eyes
from the ornate portal, saying : "I"m going to my room,
George, don t bother me until dinner is served."
Sitting in a great arm-chair before a toy grate, con
suming gas, while stolid iron pipes hidden away in elabo
rate trimmings supplied adequate heat, Jim Gardner,
shrunken to the size his own estimation placed upon
his present worth, thus questioned himself:
"Jim, I want you to take a good look in at your stock
of chips and set your hold-out for this game. Yes, the
stakes are high. C. Augustus Wetherby, big family, mil
lions behind that name, and clean people, too; different
on the Holdon end. I ve got Holdon dead to rights, and
the best of it is, he doesn t know it. And C. Augustus,
once married, will be a mint. But wait a minute, Jim ;
is the game worth the ante? To play this hand, Hoi-
don s daughter, who is a clean-limbed little filly, must be
sacrificed for the stake. Wetherby s family, although they
have millions and unlimited opportunities to do worse
that take their revenues from legitimate business, are
clean. They must be made to suffer, and they will suf
fer. C. Augustus, well, he wouldn t make good dog
meat anyway. When I play with him the little brag
gart he makes me think of the woman who wrote, The
more I see of men, the better I like dogs and he don t
count. Do I need to do this thing? That s the ques
tion." Huddled in the depths of the great arm-chair,
Jim Gardner reviewed the heavy penalties he had suffered,
the added weight he had carried in the race, the purse
hung up, being a place, food, clothing, shelter, and recre
ation in civilized society. While the clock, held aloft by
a Grecian maiden in antique bronze, ticked off the min
utes on the mantel above the grate, the man beneath
checked off the years of his soul-eating struggle and
winced and winced again, as crucial scenes on the film
of life played before his vision. His hands, lying loose
ly on the arms of the chair, suddenly clutched the great
leather tufts, his eyes grew hard and his figure straight
ened. Ah! There he had been hit hard. There had
been a day in his life when, had he taken the other side
of the street and met other than the men and women he
THE MILLS OF THE GODS STOPS 355
did meet, Jim Gardner would have been far from the
depths of this chair to-day.
For a moment his hand passed nervously over his
brow; the cold gleam of diamonds, those bits of hell-
heated carbon for which women exchange -their virtue
and men, strong men, struggle like wolves, glinted on the
polished face of the clock. As his hand passed back and
forth across his brow suddenly he leaped from the chair,
and shaking his clinched fist at the photograph of C.
August Wetherby, he cried, "I will do it; I will! All
the devils in hell shall not cheat me of this revenge !"
Again he sat in the soft fullness of the chair before
the grate. "What am I that I should sit here crying into
my own heart for the things I have lost out of my life ?"
he demanded savagely. "If these gold-plated pirates did
not fear me ; if I could not make good on a show-down
that would put such men as the Hon. Horace Holdon
into stripes, do you think they, the ultra respectable, law
abiding, God-fearing upholders of the social fabric
would permit me to live here and rob other men s sons ?
No ! And by all the gods of Rome, no man shall stand
between me and my accounting with this man Holdon.
If brute force and fox-like cunning is the highest con
cept of which these men upon whom I prey have knowl
edge, if they will use me, the social outcast, the one man
selected by the godly for hell s fiercest fires, to gain their
ends in politics, to act as a connecting link between their
Christian homes and the society of their mistresses, shall
I be denied the right to put my claws into the vitals of
the individual among them who but, pshaw Jim,
You re making a fool of yourself. Some one said, It is
not well for man to be alone, and that is true of you.
To be alone is to think of your wrongs. To think of
your wrongs is to decide either to sharpen your claws
or go jump into the river. Well, it will be the river
some day, old man, but not until the tiger loses his
taste for blood and his claws are inadequate to meet
the demands of the jungle."
"Come in," Gardner called out, in response to a
ring. George entered, and laying several letters upon
the table at his master s elbow turned to go.
"Dinner in thirty minutes," he announced, and add
ed: "I saw Snively he said you were to remember
35^ MILLS OF MAMMON
the meeting with the committee tonight at
Hotel, said the committee is afraid Sullivan is trying
strong-arm work in the thirteenth. Snively said you
ought to make it look big; said it would be safe to
milk em to the limit; said he d seen Smith and he
promised to raise hell to-day in the twelfth."
"Here, old man;" Gardner laughed as he handed
George a ten dollar bill. "You are the best ever. Tell
Snively that I will see the Honorable, the Committee,
and to-morrow afternoon the deal will be fixed between
our enemy, Murphy, and ourselves. Tell him I ll see
him at his place."
When George had gone, Jim Gardner left his chair
for a second time and he appeared another man, erect,
the fire of battle in his eyes, and the strong lines of
purpose clearly marked upon an equally strong face. As
he walked back and forth across the length of his sit
ting-room, he arranged his pawns upon the squares
the Municipal Campaign two great parties struggling,
two armies of honestly divided citizens, playing inno
cently into the hands of "Shifty" Smith, the prostitutes
angel, into the hands of Jim Gardner we know him
playing innocently into the hands of Sullivan, the man
on the other side a combination of all the worse traits
in both Snively and Gardner, playing innocently into
the hands of great vested interests.
"I wonder what s in the mail ?" Gardner asked him
self, taking up one after another of the letters upon the
table. A smile came to his lips as he gazed at the
superscription upon the envelope in his hand. "Maggie,
or I m a piker." The smile broadened, and one might
read in the face of this social wolf a trace of soul.
"Maggie I wonder what she can want now?" The
envelope lies open upon the table, a hasty glance at its
contents and George is summoned.
"George, is Shifty Smith in town? If he isn t, I
want you to find out where a wire will reach him. If he
is, I want a letter taken to him."
"I could telephone him to come over."
"No, George, that won t do. The thing I want of
him won t bear talking about ; I want to put it in black
and white and get his answer in the same shape. Go
down and see if you can catch him."
THE MILLS OF THE GODS STOPS 357
As George left the room, Gardner picked up the
letter again.
"Poor little Maggie, she, too, has carried weight, but
up to now she has been close to the money all the time.
It s a lie ; I know the girl s as square as any on the turf.
So Hogan got her gives her the choice of being rail
roaded to the pen on the testimony of his hired witnesses,
or accepting the queenship of his 5th avenue house and
his dirty hogship thrown in as an alternative. Well,
George?"
"Yes, I can get him ; going to be here until after the
committee meeting."
"All right, wait !" Gardner took up a pen and wrote :
A. Z. Smith:
Dear Sir Hogan is assisting in prosecution of Margaret
Benton. I want you to either write or tell him that, should
he persist in this matter, you will see that he is cut off be
low the ears make it plain. The girl is innocent, and his
graft is to get her under his control as the price of his pull
ing out of the case. I don t care how you do the trick, only
do it to-day. For political reasons, Hogan must not know
that I have passed this up to you; I ve got to work with
him in this campaign. Give bearer your answer. Yours truly,
James C. Gardner.
The Honorable Horace Holdon sat in the parlor ot
his Paris hotel as he wrote the following letter, addressed
to ex- Judge Carton, one of the leading members of the
Business Men s League:
Dear Judge Your letter of this morning fills me with ap
prehension. I have known for some time that the Democrats
were prepared to take advantage of the seeming laxity of the
present administration to make a grand-stand play for the
vote of the discontented rabble, the anarchical Socialist labor
element. I also feel with you that it would indeed be throw
ing good money away to finance a campaign with our present
mayor and at least two of the other officers on the ticket. I
also agree with you that "A Business Administration" is the
very best thing we can offer against the cry of graft that Sul
livan is raising against the administration. Your suggestion
that I am financially, socially and religiously fitted to head
our ticket does me great honor; the further suggestion that
my name at the head of the ticket will give our party a pres
tige with the moral element that will put us on a plane above
even the suggestion of our using the purchasable vote, while
it is no doubt true, has in a measure overwhelmed me. I can
only add, dear friend, that I place myself in your hands and
assure you that I am ready to meet my pro-rata of the legiti
mate expenses of the campaign, in case of nomination.
Yours, Horace Holdon.
MILLS OF MAMMON
Three hours after the receipt of this letter, ex-Judge
Carton had his private secretary fousily engaged in get
ting out fifty letters, identical in all respects, touching the
naming of the head of the ticket, but in personal pleas
made to the several men addressed a wide divergence of
reasons were advanced in order to insure their approval.
To James C. Gardner he wrote :
Dear Gardner I have succeeded in landing Holdon, late
of the Founders Trust, now a plain citizen, for head of
ticket and have his promise that he will fill the barrel. I
am writing to the others who gave me their pledge last No
vember to stand by whatever I framed up to beat the Fed
eral crowd in the coming campaign. I ve fixed two other
places on the ticket, one for the Provident Gas people, one for
the "P. and A.," as the price of their influence in the conven
tion. We want you to take charge of the lower end of this
campaign, and with Holdon, gas and street R. R., to say noth
ing of the moral element we shall be able to call, you can
have all the funds you need. We are bound to win. The peo
ple are ripe for revolt, and the only way to hold them away
from the Socialists is to give them a goo-goo to vote for for
mayor and a business platform. After it is all over, win or
lose, come to me for anything you want and I will see that
you get it. I can say this to you, because you know that I
am not risking anything, either personal or political, in this
fight. I ll tell you more when I see you. Can you meet me at
the Eagle to-morrow at 2:30? Judge Terwill will be with
me. Yours, J. M. Carton.
To a staunch Republican, he wrote:
Rev. J. M. Alexander, Pastor, St. John s:
Dear Brother It gives me the greatest pleasure to be able
to let you have a foreword of hope, relative to the coming
campaign in this city. You doubtless recall our interview in
November last, at which time I gave you assurance that I
should give the municipal situation my most careful atten
tion, and, if possible, so work upon our party managers that
they would see the absolute necessity of placing next year s
campaign practically in the hands of the best business men
of the city. And as I am convinced that the vast majority
of our business men are Christians, I trust that we shall
have not only a business men s ticket, but a clean business ad
ministration, as the result of our November interview. I am
pleased to announce to you that Mr. Holdon, of the Holdon
Company, a leading member of the Methodist church, and a
man who has never permitted his name to be used in any
political connection whatever in city politics in the past, ha^;
consented to make the race for mayor, provided our party
pledges itself to use none but clean methods in the cam-
THE MILLS OF THE GODS STOPS 359
paign. I am depending upon you to take personal charge of
the campaign among right-thinking people in the churches,
and especially amongst Prohibitionists. Mr. Holdon is, as
you are doubtless aware, an ardent Prohibitionist. Of course,
this will not be an issue in the campaign, but believing as
I do that we must be both as wise as serpents and as harm
less as doves if we are to successfully combat the evil influ
ences in our municipality, I feel confident that you will know
how to use the information here given. I suppose it is hard
ly necessary to add that we shall have to depend largely
upon the free-will offerings of our Christian citizenship for
funds for this campaign. I shall do myself the honor to call
upon you Thursday evening, when we can more fully enter
into the several matters that may suggest themselves to you,
and would suggest that you see Judge Terwill in the mean
time. Yours truly, Carton.
CHAPTER VII.
IN A TEXAS TOWN.
It is not necessary to our story to recount the hap
penings of the early days of Estella s sojourn in the
city of Dallas. Suffice it to say that she has suffered
and still has faith ; has hoped against hope and is still
unconvinced that the man who promised so much is
utterly a bankrupt in moral sense. She did not know
that Mickey had had two letters from Joel ; the last more
insistent than the first, in declaring that the deal was
all off and that if the girl had any sense, she would un
derstand the situation. Mickey had been sorely tempted
to make a clean breast of the affair, but her pathetic
faith in her baby s power to ultimately prevail upon the
father, to give her the right to live in the world of good
women, disarmed him. When both nurse and doctor
were gone, and Mickey sat cuddling the little black haired
daughter of his mistress in his arms one morning, there
came to him a something that satisfied the hunger of his
heart and for a moment even softened his hatred of the
baby s father.
The door opened and Estella entered. Mickey, with
face aglow, lifted a warning finger, at which magic sign
the young mother, radiantly lovely, came up on tip-toe
and knelt down beside the two.
"Isn t she just beautiful, Mickey?" The whisper
came while the mother s eyes dwelt lovingly upon the
sleeping babe.
Mickey lowered his head and answered with a great
lump in his throat : "She s most like you, lady."
"And, Mickey, you believe James would love us if
he could only see his little daughter, don t you?" This
prayer for the sustaining power of another s faith was
not read amiss by her knight as he looked into her plead
ing eyes.
"If he s a man, missus if he s on y half a man, he
360
IN A TEXAS TOWN 361
can t in no ways help it." Under his breath he con
demned that man to the very depths of perdition.
"I knew you would say so !" she exclaimed exultant
ly. "And now we must write James once more, and this
time he will come."
The baby s eyes opened and a tiny hand reached out.
The mother, on her feet in an instant, had the wee mite
in her arms, close hugged, while Mickey sat feasting his
soul upon the vision and swearing the while that he
would bring Joel to them if it cost his life.
Two letters bearing the same date and the same
postmark reached Chicago on the same day. Both were
for the same -man, but each bore a different address.
Joel received the first at his hotel and as he read it he
scowled, and cursing, tore it into bits and consigned it
piece by piece to a cuspidor. The second letter was
handed to him that afternoon at the Eagle. Joel sat a
long time after reading this second letter without giv
ing audible expression to his feelings. But if his face
was a fair index to what was going on behind it, there
was death lurking there for some one who had offended.
To learn the next step in this tragedy, the reader
must scan closely the letter this man has read, as it lies
open upon the table before him.
Dalas, Texas, Dec , 19
Mr. William Manning: Care Bagel Club, Chicago,
Yours afactionate the missus is a wrighten to yo agin to
day. And she Wants yo to comb most owfel badshe has the
sweatest little babby say it is a Piech. Now I knows yo
haint agoine to Comb kauze steller asks yo to, but yo Is a
combin Jist the samee cause i ses combAn yo air agonter
give her the one more chanst Shes bin a cryin fer cause ef
yo dont ime agonter comb ub strait to the Mertroplys an rayse
Helle with yo an yo knows i knows how to
yo don t need to think es how I am out ov coin cause I
haint i got 800 Iron dollyars in my close an when I lyed
to you bout a losyng de coin i done it cause I knowed yo was
a Welsher an intented to do the Missus dirt so yo see ime
fixted fer yo
Now yo comb an comb P. D. Q. er we is combin to the Mer
troplys an look up youse fokses an i knows where to look,
we ar a combing by Januairy fyrste
John Williams,
yose Trule,
Mickey Dougherty.
Joel picked up the letter and read it a second time,
362 MILLS OF MAMMON
drew out a bill book, placed the letter in it and returned
it to his pocket. He passed a hand across his forehead,
muttering the while, "I might have expected it. The lit
tle devil! And he lied to me about the money. Much
good it will do him once I get my hands on him. I ve
got to do it." Still muttering, he went to his dinner,
and later joined Will Hammond and a couple of sports
in a game of poker. In the small hours of the morn
ing, when the "setting" broke up, he said to Will Ham
mond, "I m beastly tired of this town and believe Til
start for the coast to-morrow or the next day ; so I might
as -well say good-by. I m not going out home, too busy;
you say good-by to Bee for me, Hammond. So long,
fellows."
Tis said so long as one has life, there is room to
hope for better things. And surely Estella hoped for
better things, as with a mother s eyes she looked at her
baby, and for the thousandth time told herself, James
could not resist the touch of those baby fingers. With all
the weight of her accumulated sorrows upon her those
little fingers had twined themselves about the tendrils
of her heart and lifted her even with their puny strength
above the world we know, and full into the realm of ex
alted motherhood. Looking through eyes of love at the
delicate lips, the bright, brown eyes, the dimpled hands
of her month-old babe, she told herself again and again
that even though the man did not love her, he surely
could not refuse to do her justice for the sake of his
wee, winsome daughter. Believing this, she sang once
more the songs Mickey had heard upon her lips in a
time which seemed to him to have belonged to another
life.
While Mickey sat listening, the owner of the cot
tage and another man came around the house.
"What s the matter with you giving me enough dirt
out of that hole you have been digging to fill up this old
well," Mickey s landlord asked the other man.
"Nothing in the world, if you ll get it out of our
way," was the reply.
"All right, I ll send a man up," the landlord be
gan, when Mickey, anxious to get at something that
would take some of his time asked "Boss, couldn t
youse give me th job ?"
IN A TEXAS TOWN 363
"Why yes," said the man laughing. "I never thought
of you ; come down with me and I ll give you a shovel.
How much is the job worth?" he asked the contractor.
"Why, if you was buying the dirt, and having it put
there it would cost you a good bit ; but, he can have one
of our wheelbarrows, and he ought to get five dollars
out of the job."
"That s all very satisfactory," Mickey announced,
and went for his shovel.
Returning, he labored for two hours, and went in to
supper, tired bodily, rested mentally, and ravenously
hungry. That night as he looked down into the well and
guessed its depth at sixteen feet, he concluded he would
earn the five dollars if he ever filled the hole.
James Y. Johnson rode out of Chicago in a Pullman,
bound for Kansas City, Mo. As Joel Holdon, he might
be bound for the coast, but as Mr. Johnson, he proposed
first to settle a little matter of domestic business this side
of the Rockies. His only information regarding the
whereabouts of those he sought in Dallas was a street
address, and that tells nothing until one stands at the
door and rings. He did not know that the little cot
tage in which they had taken refuge was fully a block
away from any inhabited dwelling. He did not know
that Mickey had strenuously opposed this and had
begged Estella to take a flat down town, out she had in
sisted that this "last house but one" on a poor street was
good enough, since James had twice quarreled with her
because she had made friends with her neighbors. Here
she would not have neighbors until he gave her a right
to have them.
Arrived in Dallas, he went to a cheap hotel and reg
istered as John H. Smith, Dennison, Texas. Paying fo*
a night s lodging, he asked the clerk to direct him to the
address Estella had given him. Mickey never thought of
sending a street address.
"At this time of night?" the clerk inquired. "You
ain t going out there; why it s past ten and it s right
smart over a mile."
"Well, I m going," Joel answered shortly.
"All right, you can t miss it; go two blocks north,
then straight east. I used to deliver groceries out that
way. The house stands by itself, there s about a block
364 MILLS OF MAMMON
on each side of it that s open. It s the next to the last
house on the left hand side going out. You can t miss
it," he called after the departing guest, then took
Smith s suitcase and set it behind the office desk, remark
ing as he did so : "That guy sure does carry a Jim daisy
grip."
CHAPTER VIII.
THE % MURDER.
"See, Mickey, she s wide awake as though it wasn t
ten o clock. Isn t she sweet? Do you want to go to
Uncle Mickey?" Mickey laughed as he took the baby and
began to hobble up and down the room while Estella
put things in order for the night. When all was ready,
she took the baby from his arms, laughingly said : "Good
night, Uncle Mickey," and closed the door.
The boy sat with elbows on the table, his head rest
ing upon his hands and his eyes fastened upon the door
of Estella s room. Would Joel come and if he came
what would be the outcome of his visit. These ques
tions, and the answers that multiplied as he gave his
mind to the problems ahead, held him motionless for a
good half hour. Then he arose, locked the outer doors
and -went to his bed in the long, low room above. He
was still speculating on the responsibilities and possi
bilities involved in his position when he heard a step on
the board walk, then after a pause the gate in front
opened and the steps came nearer and nearer.
Estella had taken her baby in her arms, and lay
awake, dreaming of the coming of James. He could not
resist the claims of their baby. He could not! If he
should refuse to live with her, he would at least give
her his name, if only until he could divorce her and thus
protect their child. Still dreaming of her baby s fu
ture, still exulting in sacrifice of self, she was startled
at the sound of footsteps upon the creaking board walk.
That step ! Was it possible ! Instantly she was upon
her feet. Hastening to a window commanding a view
of the tiny front porch, she drew the shade aside suffi
cient to admit a view of the porch.
The nocturnal visitor halted at the steps, and light
ing a match held it high, as he scanned the door for a
number. At sight of his face in the flickering light Es-
365
366 MILLS OF MAMMON
tella gave a glad cry "Oh, James ! James !"
The man turned his eyes upon the window, while she,
mad with joy, had thrown open the door of her room,
then the front door, and stood in the darkness of the
hallway, trembling and sobbing out her relief.
Joel entered to be clasped tight in the arms of the
woman he had wronged so grievously.
"I knew you would come,. James/ She sought his
lips and he, bewildered by this unlooked-for welcome,
submitted in silence. "I knew you would come, and now
you poor, tired dear, I am going to show you our treas
ure before I do anything else for you. Why, James, she
is so lovely, and she does resemble you."
Unresisting, she led him into her room, and left him
to turn on the lights. When the lights glowed, and she
turned back to him, she halted and looked in terror at
the face of the man. Timidly she approached him and
laying a trembling hand upon his arm, asked "What is
the matter James? You look you look are you ill?"
And the man, his heart rilled with hatred of this wom
an, because, forsooth, she seemed bent upon preventing
him from having his own way, even at the fearful cost
of her life and the future of their babe, stood with the
stamp of man s worst passions clearly defined in every
feature. He had not spoken a word since he entered the
house. She, standing rigid before him, read in his face
the doom of every hope, and as she tottered back, her
hand fell upon the warm body of her child. Like a cur
rent of fire, this contact sent hope surging back to rein
force her reason. Quickly bending over the child, she
clasped it in her arms and kissed it.
Joel watched her as she bent over the bed and his
heart hardened.
This baby was a fetter for his limbs, and so long
as Estella and Mickey lived it must ever be a night
mare to take a thousand hateful shapes, tormenting him
with the possibilities of exposure.
In that long, low room above, Mickey had bounded
from his bed at Estella s first cry. Then when he heard
her voice in the hall he knew that at last his prayer had
found answer and had brought with it his hour of su
preme trial. He hurried into his clothes and hastily
gathering his little hoard of money, started to leave the
THE MURDER 367
room, fully intending to hide out until Joel should leave.
The mother lifted the babe in her arms and turning
held out her offering of a new life and it s wondrous
possibilities to the man. "Take her, James, take her
and may God help her to win your love." The pathos
of her plea, the renunciation of self, were all lost on the
infuriated man.
With the quickness of a tiger, he clutched the baby
and with an oath, flung it blindly from him. The moth
er, reading death in his eyes, flew at him with a cry of
mingled rage and terror. For a time, he sought only to
keep her from harming him, but as she persisted, the
devil of unbridled license took full control of his facul
ties, and he began to push her back until she fell across
the bed. His hands had settled in a grip upon her throat.
As her eyes began to protrude, and her struggles grew
weaker, the demon whispered to him to end it all, all.
Mickey heard the mother s cry and the wailing of the
baby he loved as he halted at the head of the stairs be
fore seeking safety in flight. That cry was all that was
needed to bring back the courage that in his mill days
had often pitted him against those, who, because of
physical superiority attempted to abuse him. With set
lips and a face red with the rich blood of a righteous
purpose, the boy ran back to his attic room and slipping
into his pocket the revolver he had taken once before
when he went to meet Joel, he bounded down the stairs.
The door stood ajar and the first glimpse Mickey
got of the interior showed the baby in a huddled, now
silent heap upon the floor. Without a thought of the
others, he darted in and catching up this, his one legiti
mate love, the one affection of his poor, starved life, on
account of which he need not feel ashamed, he turned
facing the bed, and all the pent-up wrath, engendered
during his months of slavery to the man, found utter
ance.
Joel turned his head to meet the angry eyes of the
cripple.
"You little devil ; your time has come !" he cried as he
sprang at the boy.
Mickey had forgotten that he held the baby when he
saw Joel choking the mother, and as Joel sprang at him,
he attempted to dodge, still holding the baby. Joel,
368 MILLS OF MAMMON
blind with a murderous passion, saw nothing but the boy
and in his mad pursuit frustrated his own ends by rea
son of his haste. Overturning the center-table in an
effort to remove it from his path, he stumbled, and
Mickey, throwing the baby upon the bed, darted from
the room with Joel at his heels.
The cripple had read the same message in the man s
blood-shot eyes that the mother had read for her child
death! Forgetting for the time that he held the key
to life and death in his pocket, in fear of his life, he
started back through the sitting room. The -madman be
hind him, had almost clutched him at the entrance to
the dining room. On through that room, the panting
cripple, now fully possessed of the terror of death, raced
for his life. The kitchen was reached, and only then
did Mickey realize that he was trapped. The door was
locked, and the key hung upon its accustomed nail. The
moment necessary to secure that key and that other mo
ment necessary to unlock the door, would never be his.
Turning from the door to double back, he felt the hands
of the pursuer upon him, then his hot breath, as he
bore the weaker body to the floor. Mickey, like any
other animal, however weak, when facing death, fought
desperately ; while the man, intent only upon the accom
plishment of a fixed purpose, worked to fasten his hold
upon his victim s throat, regardless of the scratches and
blows rained upon him. In the struggle, Mickey sud
denly put one hand down to his side to give him lev
erage to lift himself, and relieve his body of the grind
ing weight of Joel s knee, it was then his hand came in
contact with the revolver. The mind acting with the
rapidity of light, the twisted body heaving upward from
the hips, lifted the weight of the man. The free hand
drew the weapon, and pressing it against the body of
his adversary, a bullet speeded to its work. The grip
of the hand upon his throat relaxed, the body above him
settled down with a little shudder of twitching muscles.
The breath of his enemy came in a sigh to his ears, and
was stilled. How long he lay half smoiwered beneath
the weight of the man, Mickey Dougherty will never
know. In the reaction that followed his deliverance from
death, he lost consciousness, and lay as one dead.
But life and its perplexing problems will remain to
THE MURDER 369
all who fight death, until he shall finally conquer. So,
Mickey awakened to life; to a realization of his crime,
if crime it be. Yet his first thought as he shudderingly
struggled to release himself from the dead weight that
held him, was for the woman and her babe.
Shaking with terror of the thing he fully expected
to find in that front room, he hesitated even when he
had reached the sitting room, and stood leaning for
support against the table, every faculty strained to catch
a sound of life from the room before him. He remem-
bered that he had found the foaby lying upon the floor.
He remembered that it had not moved in his arms. Was
it dead? He had seen Joel s cruel fingers upon the deli
cate throat of the mother. He put his hands to his-
own throat that pulsed and throbbed with pain, where
the same fingers had sought his life. Was she dead?
"I must, I must, I must," he repeated -with ashy
lips. But it was long before his fear of the coming
day finally drove him to action.
His mind made up, he rushed into the room, then
halted. Sitting upon the edge of the bed, with eyes
that still protruded and seemed dulled with pain, hair
disheveled and night robe torn and bloody, Estella stared
at him.
"Thank God she s not dead," he whispered.
Then seeing the tiny heap on the bed beside her he
cried: "The baby, the baby." Taking the mite in his
arms, he ran to the light.
"He killed her, and it s just as well." Estella spoke
without emotion.
"She s alive, she s sure alive ; her heart beats."
The mother came staggering from the bed and held
out her arms.
"She hain t hurted much, just stunted like," Mickey
assured her, as he placed the little bundle in her arms.
Without a sound, Estella turned back to the bed and
lay down with the baby in her arms, while Mickey stood
trembling with a new fear in his soul.
"They goes bughouse fer lots less dan she s gone
through," he told himself, as he stood waiting, waiting.
But, the mother did not move, and Mickey, remember
ing that awful thing in the kitchen, went slowly back,
clutching his revolver. A thousand terrors lurking in
37O MILLS OF MAMMON
the darkness halted him upon the threshold. He could
see Joel s murderous eyes peering at him out of the
blackness; he lifted his revolver and the specter danced
away, then came nearer, and as he pointed the revolver
again with a muttered oath, the eyes vanished. Backing
to the dining table, his eyes ever on the dark outline of
the doorway, he turned on the light and in an instant
his fear of bodily harm vanished.
The man he feared was no longer able to cope with
the weakest life cell in the world. He lay face down
upon a thick woolen rug, and Mickey, no longer a prey
to fear, went boldly into the kitchen, turned on the
light, locked the door behind him and sat down to meet
the greatest crisis in his life, alone and unaided.
"Of course they ll hang me," he cast reproachful
eyes upon the body. "An I wouldn t care t be hanged
fer killin a man, but you youse never was nothin but
a Johnny. Youse never was, an youse come here in-
tendin to kill all of us. Youse knows youse did and
I don t want t be hung fer no sich dirty welsher. An
I won t! I won t!" He jumped from the chair. "I ll
t row him in th old well an tell missus he s gone; that
he beat me an then left."
Fairly reveling in relief at thought of this sure de
liverance, he set about his task.
"They do it at th works, an it s jist as fair fer
me," he argued. "An they s one thing I got ter do an
dat s take everything offen him; so if any one ever
does dig him up, dey won t know who he is." Suiting
the action to the word, Mickey removed the papers,
bill-book, watch, rings and jewelry from the body and
did it as unconcernedly as though he were working on
an every-day job.
His long years in an industry wherein death is
almost a daily visitor among the workers had made hi^ft
callous and thoughtless of the value of human life ex
cept where it touched his friends. Johnson, the work
man, killed in the Holdon Company s plant, had been
such a friend.
The woman and child for whom he had risked his
life, he loved.
This thing with its still snarling lips and bloodshot
eyes, he had sworn to kill if he harmed Estella, and
"They ain t no priest ner sky-pilot g-oin t say a word t God fer youse, an
G-od knows I ain t." Page 371.
THE MURDER 371
his only wonder as he stripped the body was that he
had not thought of the revolver as he went down-stairs
in answer to Estella s cry and shot the brute as he stood
over her.
Having removed all he could find that might serve
to identify the body, he unlocked the back door and
after taking a look about to assure himself that there
was no one to discover him at his labor, he returned to
the kitchen and extinguishing the light, began the task
of removing the body. Taking the rug by two corners,
he pulled its burden to the door, then down the steps,
and across the grass plot to the edge of the well.
"There, Joel Holdon," the panting boy exclaimjed;
"see what youse got fer being a low-down cuss ! They
ain t no priest ner sky-pilot goin t say a word to God
fer youse, an God knows I ain t. Yer jist a-goin t
b e buried like th dog that youse are. "
With a mighty heave, he sent both body and rug to
the bottom. Then he began the labor of covering the
grewsome thing. With shovel and wheelbarrow, the
boy worked on in the dark until he was satisfied that the
body was well hidden, before he went back to the
house.
Creeping noiselessly to the front room, he opened the
door and peeped in; then entered and approached the
bed. Estella was asleep, but the baby was crying.
"Poor little kid, I guess I ll have ter let youse cry
till th missus wakes up," he told the baby, then left
the room to take up his vigil. "Four o clock an I ain t
hardly touched th bed, an I don t dast to now fer
fear I might sleep too long." He spread the contents
of a paper bag of loot, taken from Joel s pockets, on
the little table in his attic room.
"Now I wonder what s in this here bill-book. Gee
whiz! Yallerbacks an five hundred dollar ones, an
one hundred ones an a bunch of fifties. Ain t they no
little ones? Yes, they is, here s a wad of little ones.
He had these here in his pants pocket." He looked over
his shoulder into the shadows, bit his lips and looked
back at the pile of bills before him. "Ain t I a fool,"
he exclaimed. "He s got his, plump through him, too,
an sides, if he was alive, they ain t no way in th
world he could climb out of that hole, an here s me
3/2 MILLS OF MAMMON
as has seend all kinds of stiffs, a-lookin in corners ex-
pectin to see him. Huh!"
Busily, he counted and recounted the bills and coins
he had dumped upon the table. "Well, if I can t count
it, I reckin it s enough," he mused, replacing the large
bills in the bill-book and stowing the smaller ones in
his pockets. "Now, what s in them letters; if they s
anything bout missus er the kid, I reckon I ought to
kind a-know it." Picking up one, he took it from the
envelope. "Female, by crackey an she s in Oakland,
Calif. that s Colorado no California. Miss Ethel
White, now what s he a-doin t this here one?" Slowly
he read the letter, then with the exclamation, "He need
ed t die," threw the missive on the table. "An he
was a-goin t th coast t marry Miss Ethel White an*
they was a-goin t Europe, an he told her he s a-bringin
a sparkler along, fer she says she is countin th days
till she sees that sparklin gem he is a-bringin her.
Wonder if it s in this!" He picked up a flat package,
neatly wrapped. "Gracious snakes, ain t they th beau-
tifulest ever," holding up a string of pearls from which
swung a beautiful diamond pendant, his eyes devoured
their beauty. "An this is th ring my, it s swell, an
cost it must have cost as much as a hundred bones,
an all of these was fer Miss Ethel White, an nothin
but his ringers fer th neck of th woman what loves
him like a dog!"
Throwing the gems back upon their satin bed, he
closed the case with a snap. "Them s fer his baby, an*
nobody don t get them away from me less I m dead."
"Well," he went on, after a time given to specula
tion as to the outcome of it all, "if I am t know what
all them papers stands fer, fora I puts them away fer
keeps, it s me t work."
At five o clock his task was finished, and as the
herald of day threw his beams of rosy light over the
east, Mickey went softly down-stairs, peeped in at the
woman upon the bed, then went out to renew his labor
upon the old well.
CHAPTER IX.
SHE WANTS AN ANGEL.
"He meant to kill us! Oh, my precious baby, he
meant to kill us !"
"She s all right in her top piece," Mickey whispered
to himself as he stood without the door.
"And I ve slept and left my poor half killed baby
to cry its little heart out."
"That s the stuff. Long as she s a-thinkin ov th
kid, she s all right." He started to leave the room.
"Mickey, oh, Mickey, are you up? Has Julia come
yet?"
Mickey turned bac^ and thrusting a tousled head into
the room answered, "No, missus, Julia isn t here. It s
on y six o clock."
"Where is he, Mickey?" A wild look of remem
brance, of terror, convulsed her face. Mickey allowed
himself but an instant s gaze into the woman s eyes;
the something he saw there, akin to hate and fear and
pain, dumfounded him. Those were not his Estella s
beautiful eyes. His eyes fell, and with white trembling
lips, he muttered to himself, as he clutched at the door-
jamb for support :
"She is batty, she is. Oh, my poor missus !"
"Where is he? Tell me, is he hiding behind you?"
She sat up, holding the baby to her breast. "Ha, ha,
ha! You thought my baby was dead but see I, I
saved it. And when the time comes " She nodded
her head and smiled with hideous swollen lips. "When
the time comes "
Mickey could endure no more. In an instant he
stood beside the bed.
"You go straight to sleep, missus," he pleaded.
"They ain t nothin to be excited over. He s gone, gone,
I tell youse, an be won t come back."
373
374 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Won t come back? Why, Mickey, I want to show
him the baby."
Mickey, distrait, changed his tactics.
"Yes, he s gone, an he told me positive when he
left, to pack up sudden and hit the grit for Chi."
"Why suddenly, Mickey? Everything seems to go
around and stop, and then go around again suddenly?
Mickey, what does it all mean?"
"It means that as soon as we gits t Chicago, you
can have anything youse wants, missus ; anything in this
world youse wants."
"I want to make my baby an angel, a beautiful white
angel with long wings, so she can help me into heaven."
The mother looked questioningly at him.
"Can I do that?" she demanded, now scowling.
Mickey shrank back affrighted at the thing he saw in
her face.
"Sure thing, missus. Dey s a reg lar angel factory
in Chicago, they makes em over, jist as youse wants
em."
"Tell me about it, Mickey tell me how they make
angels."
"Some other time, missus." He backed to the door.
"Some other time. Now I got to git things fixed so s
we can git t that angel factory. You take good care
of th kid -th baby, missus, else she won t do fer no
angel."
"Oh, God Almighty what can I do? She s crazy
as a dope fiend widout dope," Mickey said to himself as
he sank into a chair by the table and buried his face
in his hands.
In the bed room, a disheveled woman sat upon the
edge of the bed beaming down into the upturned eyes of
the babe, who, after satisfying its hunger, lay staring
into the face above it.
"I m going to make an angel, a beautiful angel of
my baby, and then it can come to me in the night and
sit on -my bed and let me feel of its great white wings."
She kissed its lips and stroked its hair, as she went on.
"That funny twisted little man knows where there s an
angel factory and we re going straight to it."
She arose and placed the baby snugly among the pil-
SHE WANTS AN ANGEL 375
lows, saying, "Now sleep, precious, it s to be mother s
guardian angel."
******
"Julie, did youse ever hear of Chi?"
"Where are -what am Chi?"
"Chi? Why, that s the short fer Chicago, the great-
es mertropolis in th whole world."
"Not more bigger as Houston, I reckon."
"My girl, youse could put twenty-seven Houstons
into Chicago, an she d holler fer a couple ov St. Louises
to finish out her breakfas on."
"Lord, I d like to see dat town! Got any colored
folks dar?"
"Got any? W y, say, Julie, Chi is de place where
colored folks blossoms. W y, say, girl, spouse youse
was there broke to-day, in six months youse ud have
on glad rags and be flashin real gems. Well, I should
say there is niggers in Chi."
"I d gib a heap to see dat town. I never did see
but jus one colored pusson from dat town, an he cer-
tingly was bout the gayes proposition ever."
During this speech, Mickey was eyeing the girl keen
ly. He had determined that a nurse would be neces
sary on their trip North, and he wanted to take Julia
for two reasons. She was practically the only link that
connected those in the little cottage to the rest of the
town, besides, she had been with them long enough for
him to believe she could be depended upon. Drawing a
wad of bills from his pocket, he displayed them before
the eyes of the astonished girl.
"Lord, boy, where you get all dat money?" she de
manded.
"W y it grows in our fambly, Julie. I carries all de
dough for dis establishment, an when youse wants
money, Julie, jist talk to me. Now I wants t know
was yer kiddin w en youse sed youse wanted t see
Chicago, cause if youse wasn t, w y I ll take yer long
with the rest of us. We moves next week."
"Course I wants to see it near. Reckon I hain t got
no ambitions? I hain t none of your low-down trash."
"All right, Julie, it s a go. An say, when we gets
settled in th city, I ll give youse a hundred plunks
extra."
376" MILLS OF MAMMON
He counted the bills off his roll and held them be
fore her eyes. "A hundred plunks extra, if youse do
as I tells yer whilst we is a-gittin there."
"All dat money and my wages, too?"
"Sure t ing, I ain t no piker," he protested.
"Golly," the girl chorused, "I ain t goin to wait no
six months after I hits dat town fore I puts on my glad
clothes."
******
"Fo de Lord, man, come in and see what ails mis
sus." Julia s frightened face appeared at the back door.
Mickey straightened up from his task at the wheel
barrow and ran to the house, pushing past the colored
girl, who stood trembling in the doorway; he ran on
to Estella s room.
"Stop it ! Stop it t oncet !" he screamed.
The woman looked up, smiling. "See doesn t she
look funny, see how her tongue hangs out and her eyes
roll?"
"I thought youse -wanted to make an angel of her."
He took the baby from Estella s lap and she offered no
resistance. "Here, Julie," he called, and when the girl
came haltingly into the room, he put the baby into her
arms. "Run into the back yard an see if youse can t
git some breath into it."
"Didn t she look funny?"
Mickey looked into the smiling face and sickened.
What could he do? The mother demented, the baby
in constant danger of death and he loved both with all
the love of a starved soul denied other outlet for its
passion,
"Oh, missus, you mustn t never do that no more.
We wants to make a angel outer th baby." An inspir
ation came to him, "an ," he explained, "missus, if you
was to kill it, choke it that way, why it ud turn inter
a devil an haunt youse, haunt youse," he repeated as
the mad woman hid her eyes and shuddered. "Youse
mustn t hurt it. We can t never make no angel of it if
it s hurted."
"I ve seen a devil." Estella caught him by the arm
and gripped it until he winced. "He looked like, this,"
her face took on the murderous look he had seen Joel
wear as he bent over her, "and he choked choked.
SHE WANTS AN ANGEL 377
Do you know him?" she demanded, staring into his
eyes.
"I knows him. If " Mickey twisted out of her
grasp "If youse don t want th devil t come back
an choke youse agin, don t youse hurt that baby no
more."
"It isn t my baby, you funny little twisted man. It
isn t my baby," she sat down laughing.
"No, it ain t your baby. I knows that, but we kind
of got to take it long t Chi so t get it made inter
a angel, ain t we?"
"Oh, yes, I had almost forgotten I do so want an
angel."
"Course youse do, an didn t I steal this here baby
purpose t take, an isn t it goin t make a beautiful
angel? But don t youse choke it no more er I ll send
th devil back. Youse mind what I say." He left her
sitting there repeating, "I ll mind. I ll mind."
He went out to find Julia working over the baby.
"Man, am dat woman crazy?" she demanded. "If
she are, I don t go to no Chicago, an dat s a fac ."
The baby lay whimpering in her lap, while a sorely
perplexed philosopher walked the length of the room. As
he walked, Mickey debated whether or not he should
tell the girl the truth. In the end, he constructed a
compromise. The girl watched his every movement
keenly, eaten with a desire for the things she dreamed
the great city could give her, a city in the land where
her people were really free. She still had a great dread
of crazy people, and was ready to bolt at the next
alarm.
Mickey halted in front of her. "Yes, she s crazy as
a bedbug to-day." The girl nodded. "We had a doctor
in th night an he says she ll she ll be all right agin as
soon s we gits her home. She s bin through a awful
lot of trouble, jist when her man is t come, we gets
a message last night that he s killed an that puts her
off her trolley, see?" Another nod from Julie. "Now
this medical guy, he says fer us t pull our freight t
oncet hit th grit an git her back home an she ll be
O. K." He heard a step and turned to see Estella
with her arms outstretched.
MILLS OF MAMMON
"Oh, there s my precious darling," she sobbed and
threw herself before the frightened girl.
Mickey went from red to gray, from gray to white,
as the mother took her baby s face in her hands. With
a cry of anger, she turned to him; "See! see!" she
shrieked, "see where his cruel ringers caught her throat !
My God, he tried to kill her, and he her father!" She
sprang from her knees, her eyes sane and burning with
an awful purpose. "Take me where I can but put my
hands on him, Mickey as God is my judge, I ll kill "
she staggered and fell headlong to the floor.
"Quick, Julie, quick, let s get her to bed. She ll be
all right when she comes out of it ; th doc sed it would
be this here way."
CHAPTER X.
LETTERS AND COMMENT.
Paris,
Dear Mamie We are living in regal splendor. Every
thing the finest. You will doubtless remember that I had
some doubts when I started out on this world-seeing expedi
tion. I was ever so little afraid that my Angel wouldn t stand
to be milked but, the Lord bless you, when I curl up 128
pounds of live woman in his lap, put my arms around his
neck and play with the lobe of his right ear why, child, he
gives down gold, bank notes, diamonds and pearls as a Jersey
gives creamy milk.
Take my word for it, Mamie dear, every mother s son of
them the men have a spot the tickling of which will surely
hypnotize them. My Old Iron Angel s vulnerable spot is the
afore-mentioned lobe of a big, outstanding red ear.
He s chucked the iron business and we are going into re
tirement. Keep the house intact, Mamie, and hunt for the
lobe of a rich right ear but get one that is nice and lays
close to the head.
Some day my longing for the fleshpots of home is going
to overcome my avarice and when that day comes, steam
won t be able to carry me fast enough.
Mamie, I wish you would find out what Jim Gardner is
doing, and write me. I laughed at you once because you
said the man you loved could do anything he pleased with
you even after he had deserted you. Well, I won t laugh any
more. Write me about Jim.
If the Founders Trust don t fail in the meantime we will
reach Italy and be doing Rome by the time this reaches you.
If Florence is having trouble with her lungs again, give
her a hundred, tell her to give Shifty the slip and take a
rest. Yours, with love, Fly.
Chicago, , 19 .
Dear Flo Your Paris letter came through all right and
the envelope looked like some of the suit-cases once-overs are
so anxious to show us all stamped up on both sides and
ends. I m glad for your sake that the Iron Angel is liberal
I haven t discovered the right lobe as yet guess they are
built differently.
I intended to write you a week ago, when something hap
pened. I m not going to tell you the story, but must tell
379
380 MILLS OF MAMMON
you that I have taken a whole family, father excepted, into
your establishment. And one member of that family owns
us all even Big Jack, the new janitor the old one is sick.
Well, Jack has surrendered unconditionally. You ll know
more about it when I tell you what Jack, as black a fellow
as you ever saw. said after his surrender. "Miss Mamie," he
said, "hain t dis a culiar place t hab er baby in hit?" His
big eyes stood out and he looked as solemn as a judge.
"Course I hain t a-meanin no disrespec t you-all, but hit do
seem mighty culiar I hain t neber seed no babies round a
house like dis heah," he went on there, it s out, and I feel
better.
You will remember that crippled little Irish fellow,
Mickey? Say, he s pure gold and all the way through. He
brought the baby, her mother and a colored girl all the way
from Texas, and plumped them in on me. When he told me
how hard pressed he was and the awful things both he and
the mother had been through, and added that if you were
at home there wouldn t be any talk of the mother having
to leave the house until she was able to take care of her
self well, I surrendered, first to the baby, then to the mother.
The colored girl only stayed two days, when she was whisked
away by one of her own tribe, and we haven t seen her since.
Flo, when you come home you may fire them, but you want
to hurry or you won t see the mother. She s going to die.
Now, tell me that you would have done just as I did. They
have plenty of money, so I judge the man in the case must
have been rich.
Now, a word about Jim. I had Snively up here and
pumped him dry. Jim took to plunging as soon as you left
town. I believe I told you that before anyway, he made a
killing, and has been playing in big luck ever since. He s
bought stock in some telephone scheme and is trying to put
it through the Council, though what he can want to put
through is more than I know, and Snively only looked supe
rior and intimated that too much knowledge would be a dan
gerous thing when I asked him.
Snively swears Jim has not looked at a woman since you
left and if he has made a pile, you can guess he has had
plenty of opportunity to forget his troubles.
Sure, I ll keep the house warm for you, and I hope the
good news I send you will cause you to forgive me for tak
ing a family to raise.
Come home and I ll tell you the third of a long story.
Estella that s the mother will tell another third if she s
alive and in her right mind, but the most interesting part of
the story will doubtless be contributed by Mickey. With love,
Mamie.
Chicago, , 19 .
Dear Brother You will doubtless be surprised at receipt
of this letter, but I feel it my duty to write you upon a very
LETTERS AND COMMENT 381
delicate subject. I trust that you will understand the spirit
in which I write. I also hope that you will heed my sugges
tion and return home as soon as possible.
Well, I suppose I have at least succeeded in awakening
something of curiosity in the region from which you draw
your amazing business ability, even tho you are a man. So
I might as well go straight to the point and have it over
with.
Beatrice is in grave danger. I intended to convey in the
underscored words all that I mean, but I find that I have
failed. She has gone beyond my control. Frankly, brother,
she has surrounded herself with a set of advisers who are
dangerous Socialists, labor agitators, a female doctor, and a
couple of old-maid schoolma ams who have undertaken to
mother the world. I have done my best to bring her to a
realization of the nico distinction that must ever be drawn
between the aristocrat and the mere laborer. And what
do you suppose her reply was? "Why, Aunt Nell, I thought
you were the radical of our family." The women of my
family are given credit with being quick to turn a speech,
but I must confess that for once I was nonplused. You will
laugh, but I didn t; neither was I able to explain to Beatrice s
satisfaction. I fear there is somewhat more of a chill in
your home than the condition of the weather warrants me in
feeling. I sincerely trust that your return will not be long
delayed. Joel came home not long since, looking troubled,
and I having this letter in mind, sought to get a little infor
mation from him touching his business, but to little purpose.
He seems morbid. Now, brother, you doubtless are surprised
that I am objecting to Beatrice s taking up with things I
once loved to orate over before women s clubs and certain
other "functions," but if you will think back you will doubt
less remember that I was rich in those days. Besides, the en
tertaining of an avowed anarchist Prince was a bold piece
of. originality; while to talk the "brotherhood of man," "the
golden rule against the rule of gold," or have a choice bunch
of reformers on one s bounty list was the very height of ec
centric originality. Yes, brother, I paraded my reforms, tried
to tame the revolutionists and pull the fangs of my anarchist
Prince, but all the time I realized that they and their brood
were not numerous enough to be dangerous. It is different
to-day, and therefore I am different. So Beatrice believes me
a hypocrite, and I am distressed. I would add a whereas
and a resolution or two to this if I were not afraid that you
would laugh at me even after your return. Physically, we are
in splendid health. I must add that Beatrice seems to be en
joying her flirtation with the red revolution to the limit.
Yours in trouble, Nell Bishop.
The Hon. Horace Holdon, Paris, France.
As this letter indicates, Aunt Nell was acting a part
when she received her title of "Radical," and she could
afford it then. When her husband had lost his millions
382 MILLS OF MAMMON
to some craftier speculators, and she was forced back
to a position in the ranks of "poor relatives" hanging
in economic uncertainty upon the skirts of the so-called
respectable world, she could no longer afford to play
with "radicalism" and even "reform" was unsafe. It is,
therefore, little to be wondered at that Beatrice, who
moves only as her conscience prompts and is constantly
educating that conscience to examine more closely the
principles involved in the problems that confront her,
should come to detest this shallow woman who has
played with the fire of truth while living a lie.
"Have you no faith in the working people?" she
had asked her aunt one day, shortly after her arrival,
and after they had had some little argument.
"Faith in them, child ! Why, certainly, I have faith
in them. They will work to-morrow and I will both
drive and eat."
"Oh, aunt, that sounds so brutal. Where did you
learn it?" Beatrice had asked, and she long remembered
the expressive shrug, her only answer.
CHAPTER XL
ANNOUNCING THE COMING OF MR. WM. ABNER.
Joel Holdon had been dead but a week when a letter
arrived at the office of the Holdon Company a letter
that had been forwarded from the Eagle Club. Price
looked at it, and noticed the return which gave an
Oakland, California, address, then thrust it into a
drawer and forgot all about it until two days later,
when another letter carrying a special delivery stamp
was handed him by a messenger. He looked at the
address, then at the return, and thought of the letter he
had put away. Instructing the messenger to go to the
Holdon residence, and take both letters with him, he
dismissed the matter.
That afternoon he was called to the phone and after
a time returned to his desk muttering: "It s funny
how some young fellows with money manage to stay in
one place over night. Now, this Joel is certainly a
peach, and to hear his sister tell how anxious she is
about his whereabouts one would think he had never
done a thing in the world but write her letters."
Four days after Price had talked with Beatrice over
the phone another letter came to his desk, bearing the
Oakland return, and this time directed to the Honorable
Horace Holden. Price turned it over in his hands, and
at the same time turned it over in his mind. What
would he do with it? Evidently the party who wrote
it wanted to be put in touch with Joel, and if he for
warded it to Holdon it would finally come back to him
for answer. Why not have it over with at once? He
would When he had read the letter he threw it on
the desk and sat with his face in his hands for a time:
"Now what in the name of all the saints could have
happened to the fool. Wonder if he found some other
woman on the way out there and ran off with her? It
would be just like him. Guess I had better call up
383
384 MILLS OF MAMMON
no, that won t do. There is no use of having her
worrying about the chump. Guess I had better put
Martin on the case. Then write a full explanation to
Holdon."
The politicians in the world of "Big Business" had
known for some time that the Honorable Horace Holdon
was to withdraw from activity in the affairs of the trust
he had helped to build up, and would stand for nomina
tion as their candidate for mayor, and use that office
as a stepping stone to things higher, but Price knew
nothing of it. So the announcement that Mr. Wm.
Abner, of Cleveland, Ohio, would arrive within the
week to take full charge of the Chicago plant, and also
take up the duties of the presidency, came to him as a
bolt from the blue.
On the heels of this announcement came a letter
from the Corporations Protective Association that fair
ly scorched the paper upon which it was written. The
letter informed the reader that, as they had been un
able to get anything approaching satisfactory replies to
their letters for several weeks past, they had, upon
notification of the election of Mr. Wm. Abner to the
management of the Chicago branch, furnished that
gentleman with a full and detailed report covering
their relations with the Holdon Company, and he had
promised a thorough investigation upon his arrival in
Chicago. The letter closed with the statement that the
three men who had been sent to the Holdon Company
had prepared a supplementary report, and this had been
placed in the hands of Mr. Abner. The intimation
being that they had informed Mr. Wm. Abner that they
considered it both unsafe and unwise to trust anything
of a confidential nature to the Holdon Company while
he (Price) was in charge.
He was still smarting under the lash wielded by
the caustic secretary of the "Protective" when Martin
was announced.
"We ve run the last clue to earth, Mr. Price, and
as far as we can find out, Joel jumped off the earth at
Kansas City," was the detective s salutation as he took
a chair.
"Did he go there?"
ANNOUNCING THE COMING OF WM. ABNER 385
"Oh, yes, he went there all right. He registered at
the Grand, but he left the hotel within a day and
dropped out of sight. Our people are still on the case,
but we ought to have some one on the ground who
knew him. If he was done for it was a slick job. You
don t think he put himself away, do you?"
"Not him," Price declared. "He was having too
much fun; besides, he was to have been married."
"Another woman in the case?" Martin asked
quickly. v
"There may have been a dozen but not one," the
other replied seriously.
"Then that s all right. But say, we can t go much
farther without all the facts. When can we have
them?"
"I ll have to consult another party before I can tell
you," Price affirmed, and closed the interview.
"Now I m in a devil of a hole," Price informed him
self as he sat at the desk after Martin had gone. "Con
found the man who said wheat couldn t go down. Con
found the wheat pit and all the rest of it! And here,
before I have any chance to make good, a new presi
dent is to be dumped in on me. Why in blazes didn t
Holdon tell me? Did he want to catch me napping?
The next thing will be to check me up, and when that
is done I can see my finish. Damn that Corporations
Protective. If it has any weight with him, I see where
I get out, even without their looking into the books.
Another nice thing for this Mr. Abner to get hold of is
my settlement with the unions, and their growth in this
plant since Holdon left."
"By , I ll do it. And when I get him here I ll
paint millions in the picture of the Harris Machine I
show him. I ll hold this new president off until Holdon
arrives; pad my expense account enough to let me out,
and finally hold my job through my pull with the Hon
orable himself. Wonder if I hadn t better put another
thousand on wheat this afternoon. It ought to come
my way once in a while."
******
Mr. William Abner a self-made man of fifty years,
without unnecessary luggage in the way of flesh, and
386 MILLS OF MAMMON
with a superabundance of self-esteem, stick-to-it-iveness,
egotism, and a general, all around opinion that he had
earned his promotion to the head of the Founders Trust
by the application of almost superhuman talents arrived
at the offices of the Holdon Company one bright winter
morning.
"Please take my card to your superintendent," he
commanded the young man who happened to be the first
to catch his eye.
The young man, Moses Webster, read the card, as he
slowly made his way to Price s office.
"So that s the new president. Looks starchy enough/
was his inward comment. Without a word, he laid the
card on the desk.
"What? Eh so soon? What s he like?" Price stam
mered as he caught the name.
"Looks like the finished article," Moses replied
soberly.
"Well, show him in."
After the formalities were over, the new president
plunged into a cross-examination of the superintendent,
at the conclusion of which he announced his program.
"I never trust any man, Price, and I believe I owe
my success to that fact. I was not born in Missouri,
still I have to be shown. You admit that you have made
Confidants of your foremen; that a clerk in the office is
in possession of practically all the secrets of the business.
You wouldn t have needed to tell me that. The report of
the Protective Association makes that clear.
"W-hy, man alive, under your management, this busi
ness would belong to the men inside of six months. Do
you know what the devils did to the men sent out here
from the Protective Association?"
"I have guessed," Price answered in a low voice.
"Guessed? Don t you know?" Abner asked, con
tempt sticking out of each word. "Well, I ll tell you.
They were half killed by the union sluggers, and their
reports show the unions could never have caught on, ex
cept through a leak from your office. Now the first thing
I am going to do after I have our auditor check you up,
will be to fire all the confidants you have in the plant,
also the confidential clerk. How soon can you have
ANNOUNCING THE COMING OF WM. ABNER 387
things in shape for the auditor?" he demanded, switch
ing the subject suddenly.
"Why, why, not until Mr. Holdoa comes/ Price man
aged to say.
"Not until Mr. Holdon comes, and pray tell me, what
Mr. Holdon has to do with my checking up this branch
of the business ?"
The new president s assumption of superiority came
from his lips, but it emanated from his whole person, and
to such a degree that Price lost his temper.
"It strikes me," he retorted, "that for a stranger, you
assume too much, even though you are to manage this
business."
"That will do, that will do, Mr. Mr. "
"Price, if you please."
"Price then. You have been superintendent of this
plant quite too long already, and your impudence, sir,
your unwarranted impudence compels me to anticipate by
several days the date I had fixed upon for your removal.
You may consider your services here at an end."
Mr. Abner stood to deliver the last half of his speech,
and made it impressive by an all too evident anger.
Price sat white and cool. He knew that the outcome
of the game he played depended upon two factors, Hol
don and time.
"And suppose I refuse to turn this plant over to you,
until I am ordered to do so by Mr. Holdon?" Price
reached for a cigar.
"Suppose you do," Mr. Abner s voice rasped, "and
again, suppose you don t ! My man," he shook a threat
ening fist at the superintendent "your bluff is an in
sult, an insult, sir! I am president of this whole in
dustry, and manager of this individual plant."
Price nodded. "Exactly, but it happens that Mr.
Holdon s interests cannot be protected if I turn the busi
ness over to you to-day, and as he has not notified me to
put you in charge, why " He smiled up at the dap
per, little man. "I must decline to comply with your
request. I would strongly advise you to defer to my
wishes in the matter."
"I shall see our attorneys, sir. I strongly suspect
something crooked here," the little man fumed.
"And tell them that the superintendent refused to let
388 MILLS OF MAMMON
you play "bull in the china shop with this business," Price
sneered. "Do so by all means. They will tell you that
I am the manager of this plant, and am well within my
right, when I refuse to turn the business over to you or
any other man."
"But I tell you, I was elected manager of this plant,
and I propose to manage it."
"You forget that your election would not stand a
test in the courts any more than would the Founders
Trust. I do not forget, and my duty is plainly to pro
tect the majority stockholder s interests here, until such
time as he. relieves me of the responsibility."
Price s attitude of virtuous solicitation for the in
terests of the powerful Mr. Holdon began to take lodg
ment in the mind of the new president.
"I declare, I declare," he ejaculated, seating himself.
"This is an extraordinary situation. You really mean to
tell me, the president, that you will not allow me to as
sume control here until Mr. Holdon authorizes you to
do so."
"Exactly, Mr. Abner," Price faced the little man,
"and when he does, you can check the business up, and
begin firing commencing with me, of course," he added.
"Well, well, well, I ve been in business for years, and
thought I knew every kink and turn in the game, but
I ve learned a new one."
"Would you care to visit the plant and get acquaint
ed?" Price questioned, convinced that he had won his
point, and sensible of the fact that to press it too far,
might result in shipwrecE
"Why, yes, I suppose I might as well. When will
Mr. Holdon arrive ?" Abner asked as they got .up.
"I cabled him a week ago, and expect him within
two weeks," Price replied, and they went to the shops.
* * * * * *
"Arrive in New York, 2Oth. Telegraph news.
"Holdon."
Price and Charley Harris were seated in the rooms
over "Shifty" Smith s, when Price produced the above
telegram, and said : "I wired him to meet me here upon
his arrival, and I will want you to be here to explain our
work to him. And Harris," he added, "make it strong.
He took a fancy to you at first, and would have tried
ANNOUNCING THE COMING OF WM. ABNER 389
your machine out then, if I hadn t had mine in my head."
Two days later Price made a hurried trip to the lit
tle machine shop where Harris was working on his ma
chine.
"He ll be in to-night at eight o clock, and I want you
to come up, come up the back way about ten o clock."
He looked about the shop for a time, then stood
watching the mechanic at his work.
"How s she coming?" he asked, idly handling a pat
tern.
Charley turned a beaming face to him. "Coming
along nicely, Mr. Price. In two months at the outside,
I can have it ready to turn out a mountain of castings
a day."
"That s good, that s good. Just keep the pace," he
encouraged, "and you ll land a millionaire."
"Confounded lucky thing I tumbled onto old Hoi-
don s political aspirations," Price told himself on the
way back. "If he won t fix things at the plant on the
strength of this machine, he ll have to fix them to save
himself a little bit of annoyance I might cause him by
putting certain parties next to his European trip, and
some of his property holdings downtown. Oh, I guess
he ll come across all right. Then Mr. Abner can have
his management. I ll take mine along with politics and
this new moulding machine."
The Honorable Horace Holdon reached Chicago on
schedule time, and after a flying trip home, went down
town, in spite of the protest of both Aunt Nell and
Beatrice.
"Well, Price, how does everything look? Your wire
frightened me. I can t think what that boy could have
done with himself, and I didn t want to come home for
two months."
"Having a good time?" the superintendent inquired.
"A good time," Holdon leered across the board.
"Never had such a time in my life. But about Joel," the
magnate s face showed concern.
"You ll have to go to Kansas City. That s the last
word from Martin. I sent him down there a week ago.
I ve done everything money could do."
"When do they expect me?"
"As soon as you can go. I took it upon myself to
39O MILLS OF MAMMON
inform the agency that you would be there day after to
morrow. And they "
"Say that s rather well, I suppose I had best know
all about it as soon as possible."
At this point, Price proceeded to tell Holdon how he
had taken funds out of the Holdon Co. s safe to meet
the detective s charges, and then, apparently as an after
thought, said: "And by the way, that Harris moulding
machine has taken a pretty penny, and of course, I took
that out of the safe, too."
"How did you square things with Mr. Abner?" Hol
don inquired witJh interest.
"I couldn t; could I, without exposing your connec
tion with the Harris deal? Price looked depressed.
"No, that s so, and, great guns, man !" Holdon was
excited.
"Oh, I fixed it all right," Price interrupted, but with
a long face.
"Fixed it with Abner why that prying, long-nosed
fox. Say, I d rather have Sherlock Holmes on my trail
than our president."
"Well, when I tell you how I fixed him, you can let
your mind rest." Price pulled at his mustache.
"Well, out with it."
"I bluffed him out."
"You didn t bluff Abner?"
A look of unbelief mingled with mirth, sat upon Mr.
Holdon s countenance, as he regarded his vis-a-vis.
"Yes, I did. He demanded that I check up, and get
out, and I as flatly refused to do so until you should
come, and relieve me. Told him I -was protecting your
interests, and wouldn t give up my position as manager
until you released me."
"Say, that was great. How did he take it? Stormed,
didn t he ?" The magnate seemed to relish it hugely.
"Well, yes, you might say he stormed, and it s been
deuced unpleasant for me."
"Oh, we ll fix all that," Holdon beamed. Tomor
row morning we ll turn the plant over to him, and I ll
leave you a check, payable to Mr. Abner. If I am not
back from Kansas City . by the time the auditor gets
through. He s here, isn t he?"
ANNOUNCING THE COMING OF WM. ABNER 3QI
"Yes, he got here the day after Mr. Abner arrived,
and they are both as mad as wet hens," Price answered,
with a light heart.
"Well, as I was saying, I ll leave a check, and when
they get the cash figured up, you can fill in the sum of
the shortage, and explain that you drew it out for my
private account, while I was in Europe. That will fix
it."
"The very thing, and do you know, I never thought
of that, or I would have turned the office over to them,
and told them that you would draw a check to cover
the shortage."
"Didn t think of it, eh ? Well, you did very well as
it was," Holdon commented, well pleased that Price had
held out against the redoubtable Abner and the au
ditor.
The sound of footsteps on the back stair claimed the
attention of both men.
"By the way, Mr. Holdon," Price hastened to ex
plain. "I thought you might want to verify my state
ments regarding the Harris machine by having a talk
with Harris, so I asked him to come up about ten o clock,
and I guess he is coming."
"Price, you made a mistake there." (A knock on the
door). "Hurry and tell him I didn t come, anything to
get rid of him." Price showed his bewilderment, and
stood looking helplessly at his employer.
"Hurry, man! Don t stand there staring."
The door was opened a crack, and Price put his face
to the opening. "That you, Harris," he whispered. "Well,
I m sorry that you had the trip for nothing. He didn t
come, and I have a lady visitor."
"All right. Happy dreams," Charley replied, and
moved away, but as he passed the window, and noticed
that the shade was not drawn quite to the bottom he
stooped and looked into the room.
"What sort of game is this?" he muttered, as he
caught sight of the Honorable Horace Holdon standing
at the farther side of the long table. "He lied to me I
wonder why?"
"Is he gone?" Holdon inquired in a stage whisper.
Price put his finger to his lips, and turned to the door.
392 MILLS OF MAMMON
He had been listening, and failing to hear descending
footsteps, concluded that Harris was still at the door.
Harris could not see Price, but from Holdon s atti
tude and looks concluded that they suspected him of
eavesdropping, so he tiptoed to the stairway and made
an unnecessary amount of noise as he went hastily down.
"He s gone," Price whispered, taking his place at the
table.
"You should not have had him come up here ; not to
night anyway. One man is enough to be mixed up in
the business, so in the future steer him clear of me. I
don t want to see him, or have anything to do with it
until we are ready to close up the business."
"Very well, if you say so, but you know I ve been
telling him, just to jolly him along, how pleased you
would be."
"Well, you can tell him to-morrow that I ve gone to
Kansas City, and when I get back you can tell him I m
too busy to see him. I ll leave this matter entirely in
your hands."
"But how about it, if Abner fires me, and I suppose
he will."
"Why? Oh, I see, because you bluffed him out.
Well I ll take care of you. You ve certainly got nerve,
and I ll need a good man to look after loose ends, from
now on. Don t worry. I ll look out for you."
When Holdon left, Price sat for a long time, think
ing of the tangled skein of life, thinking of the knotted
snarl that had been straightened out so easily that night.
"Confound it, I might as well take ten thousand
more," he said aloud, "and I will, if he gives me that
check, as he promised. What s the difference?" he de
manded of the wine bottle, "by the time he gets the
check back if he sees it at all I ll be so deep in his
confidence, and he ll be so deep in politics, that he won t
dare to peep. And won t that little piece of congested
self-conceit, our president, get a surprise at nine o clock
to-morrow morning, when Mr. Holdon walks in, hands
me that check, and orders me to turn the plant over to
Mr. Abner. Well, I should think so."
The next morning at the appointed hour, Mr. Holdon
was announced, at the close of a very unpleasant half hour
ANNOUNCING THE COMING OF WM. ABNER 393
for his superintendent, who had been hard pressed by
both Mr. Abner and the auditor, who wanted to finish
his work and get away.
"Mr. Holdon, I m delighted to see you, delighted,
because if anything had kept you from appearing here
in person, I am satisfied that your very excellent super
intendent would have compelled us to go to the courts,
before he would have turned the business over to us."
Mr. Abner ended his remark with a very peculiar smile
in the direction of Price.
"Quite right, quite right, Mr. Abner. I assure you
he did just what I would have had him do. Protected
my interests as he saw them."
Mr. Holdon was not averse to posing, and he surely
played it up very well, as he pulled out his bill-book,
and extracted the promised check. "There, Mr. Price,
if you have used any of the firm s funds for my private
account, and I conclude that you have, just fill in the
amount and turn the check over to Abner."
"Thanks, Mr. Holdon," Price replied, while Mr.
Abner and the auditor stared. "I suppose I am released
from responsibility, and that Mr. Abner and the auditor
are to consider themselves in charge."
"Exactly, and gentlemen " Mr. Holdon turned at
the door, "I must beg your pardon for a hasty leave-
taking, but I am called to Kansas City. When I return,
I shall want a business talk with you, Mr. Abner."
Fingering the check, and smiling blandly, Price
turned to Mr. Abner.
"My dear sir," he said, "you are now in full posses
sion of your office, and I desire that your first official
act shall be the acceptance of my resignation as manager
and superintendent."
"Not until we have checked up the office," the au
ditor interposed.
"As you will, gentlemen. If not now, then at your
pleasure."
His eyes were on t he oblong bit of paper over which
he drew the fingers of his left hand, vaguely wondering
what Holdon would say when he next saw it.
Within an hour after Holdon had left the office, Price
had drawn another ten thousand from the funds of the
394 MILLS OF MAMMON
firm. As soon as he had the money deposited in another
bank to his credit, he entered into the work of the au
ditor with a vim that surprised that astute official. But
it would not have surprised him could he have known
that Price wanted the work finished before Holdon re
turned from Kansas City, in order that he might get the
check out of his hands.
"You are thirty thousand dollars short, ten thousand
of it drawn yesterday." The auditor looked hard at
Price, and Abner gasped, "Thirty thousand dollars
short. So that s" but he got no further.
"Gentlemen," Price began, "I am agreeably surprised.
I thought the amount would touch close to forty thou
sand. You see," he looked at them unblinkingly,"Mr. Hol
don has several large business interests. When he went
to Europe he gave me charge of some of them, and I
drew from this firm s account occasionally, simply as a
matter of convenience, as was the case yesterday."
He got up, and taking the balance sheet from the au
ditor, remarked: "I suppose you have no objection to
my having your figures verified, before I fill in this
check for the amount necessary to balance cash ?" With
out waiting a reply, he took the sheet out to Moses desk,
and asked him to check it up and bring it back to the
office.
While he was out, the auditor stepped over to his
desk; picked up the Holdon check; looked at it closely,
and remarked : "Mr. Holdon evidently has implicit con
fidence in Mr. Price."
"Oh, that doesn t necessarily follow," Abner replied.
Then Price returned, and busied himself at his desk,
sorting papers until Moses came in.
"The footings are correct," he announced, laying the
sheets on Price s desk.
Without a word the latter drew the check toward
him, glanced at the figures, wrote in the amount, and
handing the check to Mr. Abner, said : "With my com
pliments, and my resignation."
At this moment a messenger entered and handed
Price a telegram.
"See Judge Terwill to-morrow without fail. Letter
follows. Two clues. Holdon."
ANNOUNCING THE COMING OF WM. ABNER 395
"Letter follows, does it? Well if that letter contains
the things it should, I m all to the good with the Hon
orable Horace Holdon. I m to see the Judge. I wonder
if he is behind Holdon s political ambitions." Price
folded the telegram, put a few personal belongings in a
grip and left the offices of the Holdon Company, with
out a word of farewell to any one,
CHAPTER XII.
AN IRON ANGEL.
Florence, Italy, Jan. 20,
Dear Mamie My Iron Angel has gone, and by the time
this reaches you he, too, will be in the city by the lake. He
didn t insist upon my accompanying him, though he did
show every sign of emotion at parting, and, really, I felt
mean when I thought how I had written you of his outstand
ing red ears.
He certainly came across in handsome style before he left
me, and I have since excused myself, to myself, for loving
him half to death after he gave me the draft on a bank in
Rome. And he didn t even ask me to be good while he was
gone, not a word. Just told me to go ahead and see things
as we had planned. But, really, I am tiring of the endless
procession of good clothes on foreign backs, gold braid and
shining swords on local dignitaries, and the endless, endless,
ever-pressing, ever-changing, yet always the same mass of
fantastically rag-clad, begging poor. The money in my pocket
fairly burns to be spent, and every attempt I make to spend
it is met by such bold-faced, smiling, wheedling, cajoling liars
and extortioners that I end up by refusing to part with any
of my coin.
I long for Chicago, the city of a million wonderful things.
And if this gnawing home-hunger keeps up for another week,
Fm going to come; in fact, I feel now that I am coming to go.
Your family cares do not worry me at this distance. If
your conscience, now in the sere and yellow leaf, upholds
you, I have nothing to say at this distance. The Lord knows
the house is big enough, but a baby? A baby in a house
where no child has a right to abide by any law written or un
written, a baby, Mamie! But there, I dare not judge; when
I come home we will take your Mickey and your mother, and
your baby Into executive session and decide their fate in-
stanter.
So Jim plunged, made a stake, went into business, and is
now turning his matchless talents to account in politics.
Mamie, the one trait I admired above all others in Jim Gard
ner was his honesty he was square with men. I doubt very
much whether he can retain his honesty and succeed in Chi
cago politics. But, ai yway, I was glad and sorry; somehow
all my joys are half of sorrow. You didn t mention May in
your last. Is she better or worse?
If you need money, don t be afraid to ask for it; or have
you still a few dollars left? Your homesick Fly.
396
AN IRON ANGEL 397
To this letter Mamie replied:
Dear Flo We have been living with death in the house
for two weeks and he has taken his victim at last.
Bstella had not been here a week when she became so ill
that we felt compelled to call a doctor, your doctor. He gave
us no hope. The strangest thing about her was that she
denied that she ever had a baby, denied it from the day she
was taken sick. And do what we would, she persisted that
the baby could not po&sibly belong to her. I sent for Mickey
and he said she had been the same way in Texas and suggest
ed that we keep the baby away from her. When the doctor
made his first call Mickey was here, and I told the doctor
Mickey could tell him all about the case; and whatever pos
sessed him I don t know, but he asked the doctor if she was
going to die, and I thought he would faint when the doctor
said, "Yes, there isn t a single chance for her."
Then the doctor asked him if she didn t have a baby, and
Mickey said she had, but they had left it in an orphans
home in Missouri, and I sat there and let him lie. When the
doctor was gone I asked why he had lied, and, would you be
lieve it, he said if he had told the doctor the truth he would
have had some old hen or other taking the baby away, and
he wanted it and would die before he d let anybody have it.
Did you ever hear of the like?
I had made up my mind to tell the doctor, and I guess
my looks must have given me away, for Mickey actually went
down on his knees and begged me not to tell, and I prom
ised. So we have been hiding every trace of the baby, and
the doctor don t suspect a thing.
Long before this reaches you we will have had a funeral
from the house.
I wish you were here to help me, to advise just what to
do now and afterward with Mickey and the baby. The colored
girl they brought from Texas has gone.
Later: Mickey brought me a five-hundred-dollar bill, and
asked me in a matter-of-fact way to get it changed for him.
When I looked at it, then at him, and sat absolutely speech
less, he looked at me a minute as solemn as a judge and
said:
"I wish Fly Boyd was here. She d know how to help a
feller without all the time a-lookin like she wanted to call in
the bulls."
Well, I took that bill up again.
"It s good, all right, and I got plenty more; enough to
keep the baby an make a lady of her. Are youse goin to~
get it busted for me?" he demanded, and I still sat there like
a fool.
Finally, I came to, and promised to get it "busted" for
him. But, what do you think of. it? I do wish you were
here. Mickey would tell you the whole story; I might pump
until doomsday and get nothing but a string of lies out of
him.
398 MILLS OF MAMMON
Still Later: I went to Jim Gardner s office (yes, he has
a, swell office now) and asked him to break the bill. Say, he
turned it over and over. He s dead in love with you, Flo. He
thought he knew where it came from. "Holdon s money, is
it?" he said, and looked frightfully wicked. I don t know
what I said, but he asked: "When did she get home?" And
I wanted to know who? "Why, Fly; didn t she come with
old Holdon?" He nearly bit my head off. When I said: "No,
she didn t; she s in Florence, Italy. Want to send a word
over?" he started to say "yes," then changed his mind and
changed Mickey s bill. Yours with love, Mamie.
P. S. I must tell you how our visitor died, Flo. I must.
Yesterday morning when the doctor came out of her room
we stood huddled at the door. I started to enter the room
and he caught me by the arm. "Don t go in; her knight-er
rant is with her. Let him have her all to himself these last
few minutes. Come," he added, "let s sit down; I want to
ask you about her. I ve done all that can be done."
When he and I were seated in the big front parlor, the
doctor asked: "What do you know of this woman?" I re
lated the circumstances of her coming to the house, and he
said:
"I have met with some strange experiences in my practice,
but never with a case like this. That Mickey knows more
than he has told me, I am satisfied; but that l.e does not
know her name, I am sure. They tell me the love of woman
passes understanding, but in this case it s the love of a man,
a big-hearted, whole-souled man in a fearfully abused body,
that passes understanding. I wish I knew her name. My
certificate of death must be made out, and it must bear more
than the name of Estella."
Just then Jane came downstairs sobbing. We ran to the
door. "Oh, come, she s dying!" the girl cried, and started
back.
When we entered the room the doctor ran to the bed and
lifted Mickey, a dead weight, from across the body of the
woman he had loved, loyally, honorably, faithfully, while he
might serve her. Gently we laid him upon the divan, and the
doctor paid a man s tribute to a man when he wiped his eyes
and went back to the bed.
"Dead," he whispered.
Mickey struggled up and sat wild-eyed, looking first at
one, then another of us, as he said: "She s dead; but she
knowed me. She knowed me." Great tears rolled down over
his cheeks. "She said, Mickey, I m so glad he didn t kill
youse. " The words had hardly left his lips when he realized
what he had said, and, shaking off his emotion, sat staring
straight before him.
The doctor turned to him. "Mickey, won t you tell me her
name?" Mickey started and sought the doctor s eyes, a
troubled look on his face.
"I don t dare t tell youse th name she ought to have,
Doc; an afore God, I don t know her other name."
AN IRON ANGEL 399
"Did she never tell you her name? She s dead, Mickey,
and we must know her name."
"Doc, I asked her;" he gulped down a sob; "asked her
what her name was afore she met him, an* she begged me
never to ask her again, till he married her, an he never
did."
"But I must fill out a burial certificate, and I must have
another name."
"Ef youse must, Doc, w y not give her my name? It won t
matter none to her when she s dead, an an I was all she
had in the worl to th* last." He got up and, feeling blindly
for the doorway, left the room.
Do come home, Flo. Come as soon as ever you can.
With love, Mamie,
CHAPTER XIII.
THE LETTER HE WANTED.
The second letter that came to Price from Kansas
City made him wish he had taken twenty, even thirty
thousand more from the Holdon Company s cash,
Dear Price You will have seen the Judge by this time.
Write me what he had to say.
I wouldn t write this letter, but I may start for Texas to
morrow. The agency thinks it has a new clew leading to
Dallas, so I am uncertain as to where I will be at this time
to-morrow. A. M. White, of California, is here with two de
tectives on our case. Joel was to have been married to his
sister. I want you to put a good man on the back track in
Chicago; I want to know what he (Joel) had been doing for
a year. I don t like this agency; they seem to be pulling my
leg and giving me nothing in return but pipe dreams.
Now, about that Harris business. I want you to have each
piece of the machine duplicated, with the changes in shape
of patterns and in the driving mechanism, as Robinson sug
gested. Have Robinson sign over all rights in the machine
to me. Pay him whatever you have to. I enclose draft. Get
the rest of the drawings of Robinson s machine to Wash
ington as soon as possible; better send them down one at a
time, so Gridley can be fixing up our claims. And don t for
get that every scratch that goes to Gridley goes under Robin
son s name. This is important, and Gridley understands it;
I saw him in New York.
Keep Harris jollied along; better give him a few hun
dred out of that draft. Tell him he must not let a soul see
the machine; that he must not even whisper of its existence
to any one. And be sure that he keeps at work. I want to
get this business closed up before spring. Ask the Judge to
put you in touch with a fellow naved Snively, also a Jim
Gardner. We will use both of them in the next campaign.
Destroy this. H. Holdon.
"Destroy it? Well, I don t think." Price laughed
and shook his fist to the west. "Destroy it! I hope to
God they take you to Texas and keep you there a month.
I ll have enough letters in that length of time to cine ;
my hold upon you, my dear next mayor of Chicago, tint
I will."
400
THE LETTER HE WANTED 4<DI
"Hasn t Mr. Holdon come yet?" Harris asked, in a
matter-of-fact way, as Price stood at the bench watching
him at work.
"No, and what s more, I don t expect to see him for
some time. He went through to Kansas City, but I had
a letter from him. He sent you two hundred dollars
and is anxious that we get the machine set up for a
test as soon as possible." Price laid a check for two
hundred dollars drawn on his bank on the bench. Harris
picked up the check, looked at the signature, then at
Price.
"What s the matter with it?" Price asked.
"Oh, I suppose it s good, but I thought you said
Holdon sent it."
"So he did, but as I had other bills to meet, he sent
a draft to cover the full amount and I am checking it
out."
Harris watched Price closely. "I d like to see that
letter," he was thinking, even while Price made his ex
planation.
"Have you made the drawings for the moulding
mechanism?" Price inquired, running over some draw
ings on the bench. "If you have, I ll take them to the
pattern shops. We want to make all the speed pos
sible."
"I haven t finished them." Charley s voice was hard
ly audible. "I ll get at them again to-night," he added.
"All right, Harris; be sure and have them ready in
the morning, I ll be out after them." He went over
and looked at the machine, growing piece by piece, then
left the shop.
As soon as he was gone, Charley threw down his
tools and ran to a window where he could see Price as
he went toward the car tracks.
"I wonder if I am a fool! Anyway, he lied to me
once, and why not again? My God! If they should
try to rob me now after all my labor; after firing my
hopes and lifting me out of hell into heaven. If they
do," he shook his clinched fists at Price as the latter
boarded a car. "If they do, by the eternals, I ll be the
last man they rob/ Back to the bench he went, mut
tering to himself: "I ll pretend that I couldn t finish
the drawing and see how Price takes it. If I have a
4O2 MILLS OF MAMMON
single doubt left to-morrow, I ll take the work to some
other pattern maker."
The mechanic worked that day under a pressure that
promised a nervous breakdown in the near future. As
he labored, his suspicions of both Price and Holdon
grew and he determined to shadow Price and finally se
cure an interview with Holdon and get from him some
thing more substantial than Price s word before he com
pleted the machine.
For three days he held Price off with the statement
that he had been unable to finish his work on the draw
ings for the moulding device, and each day, as Price be
came more persistent in his efforts to get the drawings,
Harris became more fixed in his belief that there was
something more than a desire to see the early comple
tion of the machine, behind Price s evident anxiety.
"Let s see, this moulding mechanism and the for
mula for the moulding compound about finish the parts
our patent claims will cover, don t they Harris ?" Price
asked on the fourth morning when Harris had told him
the drawings were still unfinished.
"That s about all," Harris admitted and went on
with his work.
"Well, I wish you would hurry them along. We
want to put this machine to the test at the earliest pos
sible moment, and if it will do the work you claim for it,
we ought to have all our patent claims worked up and
be ready the day the machine proves a success, to fire
them into the patent office," Price insisted.
"The machine will do more than I claim for it," the
inventor spoke with conviction. "And, I ll get out the
drawings, never fear. I ll work day and night to get
the machine set up, but this side of the test, Mr. Price,
I ve got to have my interest, a one-half interest in all
patents, put down in black and white."
"I thought we had settled all that at the beginning."
A nasty scowl crawled up over the speaker s face, and
wiped out the smile he attempted to assume.
"We settled nothing but that I was to build the ma
chine, Holdon was to furnish the money and each of us
to have a half interest in the patents." Harris watched
even the quiver of Price s eyelids.
THE LETTER HE WANTED 403
"That s what I meant by a settlement/ the other
answered. "Just that, and I know no reason why it
should not stand."
"There are to me several very substantial reasons why
I should insist upon something more. Besides," he
went on, "I have decided to do a certain thing and you
might as well know it now as later. I propose
to keep the rest of the drawings and the formula in my
own hands until I have Holdon s agreement in black and
white."
Price s face betrayed him, though he did his best to
hide the fear that had put its markings on him.
"I I don t understand you/ he stammered.
"Then, this will help you to understand. I want five
hundred dollars to cover cost of finishing the machine.
Then I ll go ahead. As soon as Holdon signs up, I ll
turn all the drawings and formula over to you and not
until then."
"This is an extraordinary demand, Mr. Harris."
Price tried to look indignant. "And, I must say, your
language is insulting to both Mr. Holdon and myself.
It implies a suspicion on your part that we are not not
acting in good faith."
"Take it that way, if you like," Harris answered,
hotly. "But I tell you for the last time, I want five hun
dred dollars to-day. If you don t want to go ahead on
that plan, I ll see a lawyer and find out what my rights
are."
Thoroughly alarmed at the mention of a lawyer being
brought into the case, Price capitulated.
"Harris," said he, "you are unreasonable, but to
show you that I am above resentment, even when you
insinuate that I am not dealing fairly with you, I will
give you my check for the five hundred and leave the
whole matter in your hands. Could anything be fairer
than that?" he demanded with a great show of outraged
innocence.
"That s fair, Mr. Price, and the sooner you bring Mr.
Holdon and me together, the better it will suit me."
That ended the interview. Price lost no time in
writing all the facts to Holdon, and in reply received the
following letter:
404 MILLS OF MAMMON
Dear Price You must get those drawings and the formula,
and I don t want you to employ any one else. Do it yourself.
Go to him and take the enclosed letter; let him read it. He
will hustle the thing along. Tell him I want to know when
everything is ready and I will try to get back as soon as he
can show me the completed drawings.
As soon as Harris reports everything ready for my inspec
tion, get him out of the city. Martin knows where his folks
live. A telegram calling him home will do the business. You
know what to do as soon as he s gone.
Put everything in Robinson s hands, and tell him to push
the work. Be sure and put everything back just as you
found it before he gets back. Then go ahead as though noth
ing had happepned. Holdon.
Destroy this.
CHAPTER XIV.
PRICE IN THE ROLE OF A BURGLAR.
For six days and nights after the receipt of Holdon s
letter, insisting that the remaining drawings for the
Harris moulding machine be secured at the earliest mo
ment, Price had worked with Harris in the little shop
during the day, and had shadowed him evenings until
he discovered that the mechanic was working on his
drawings at home until late in the night. This fact es
tablished, he laid his plans for the robbery of the work
er, as soon as he was sure the work of drafting the last
piece of the machine had been finished.
On Monday morning, when Charley approached the
shop, he found Price standing shivering at the door.
"I m a little bit late this morning," he observed ;
had to make a slight change in one of my drawings;
the difficulty developed yesterday when I placed the low
er gearing in the machine." He turned the key in the
lock and both men entered, Harris exclaiming:
"I could well afford to work late last night, for I
finished the drawings and will take them to the pattern
maker to-morrow."
"I m glad to hear that, Harris ; it s the best news I ve
heard in a long time. How long will it take to finish the
machine ?"
"Why, if I can get the heavier machine work at th<j
time promised, we ought to have the machine ready for
a test run inside of three weeks."
"Just what Robinson said about his machine." Price
was thinking ; aloud he said : "That s better than ever.
Holdon ought to be here in two weeks, then we can
have your black on white scruples satisfied, and get
down to business." This open, free-handed talk of meet
ing his demands for a settlement between Holdon and
himself thoroughly disarmed Charley and made him
ashamed of his earlier suspicions. And to make amends
405
406 MILLS OF MAMMON
he opened his heart to Price, telling him of the success
ful tests his moulding compound had stood and that he
had measured and weighed out enough of the several
ingredients to make the moulds for their trial run. Well
satisfied, the mechanic went about his work, while Price
poured forth his admiration of this or that ingenious de
vice about the machine.
It was in the neighborhood of ten o clock when Price,
preparing to go back to the city, said: "I m going to
write Holdon to-day, and I know he will be more than
pleased with the progress you have made. By the way,
suppose I come out to your place to-night and talk over
the business end of the deal. If we get together on it
before Holdon comes, it won t take so long to settle mat
ters then."
"Why, I don t know but that would be a good plan."
"All right, I ll be out to the house about eight
o clock," Price replied; but, as he went toward the car
tracks he said to himself: "I won t get there quite so
early, but when I do arrive, it s dollars to doughnuts he
won t be there."
"Martin certainly did good work on the Harris case,"
he observed, as he reached his apartments. "If Harris
knows any more about his family or his wife s people
than I do, he s welcome to it."
Seated at a table with a telegraph blank before him,
he pondered:
"Wonder which would draw him the quickest, a wire
from home or from his wife ; whichever it is, I ve got to
make it so urgent that he won t wait to take those draw
ings to the pattern maker. If he did, the whole game
would have to be recast. Well, here goes a quarter,
heads it s mother ; tails, the wife."
The coin flipped toward the ceiling, fell whirling
over and over.
"Tails, by George ! Just what I wanted."
About thirty minutes later a man wearing a slouched
hat, soiled negligee shirt, clothes to match and a faded
brown overcoat, stood at the corner of Randolph and
Dearborn with an envelope in his hand. The winter
winds whistling down the throat-like streets caused him
to bend over and shield his face from the icy blast.
PRICE IN THE ROLE OF A BURGLAR 407
"Damned funny where all the messenger boys are/
he muttered, after standing for some time in the cold.
A hot chestnut vender opened up for business a few
feet from where he stood, and after buying a bag of nuts
the man in the faded brown overcoat asked :
"Know where a man could find a messenger this time
of day, stranger?"
"Sure ting, frein you want to pay how much?"
"Why, a dollar if I can have the message delivered
once."
"You watch the stand; I ll git a boy"; the vender
was gone. He had returned in five minutes with a lad
of about fourteen.
"It s my boy," he exclaimed. "You give him the let
ter; I take the dollar."
"And here s ten cents besides; I sold some nuts."
Price grinned, and after giving the boy explicit instruc
tions, returned to his rooms.
"There s only one chance of a hitch, and that s re
mote, for I don t think he ll ever dream of it being a
phony message he hasn t had enough business with
the wires to know what trimmings go with the delivery
of a genuine message."
Charley was getting Beady to go out to lunch when
the message was delivered. He stood with the unopened
envelope in his hand long after the boy had left the lit
tle shop, and for the life of him he could not have sworn
as to whether the boy wore uniform or not.
The type-written message was short:
D , Jan. 10, 19 .
Your wife is dying; come on first train.
Holcomb.
The message was addressed to his place of residence,
and the first clear thought he had aside from the message
was that some one had directed the boy to the shop
when he could not deliver the message at the house.
Gone from Charley Harris thoughts completely as
though they never had existence, were all the loose ends
of his work. Everything else save the thought that
Mary had called to him was lost out of mind, and two
hours later he was on his way to the Grand Central sta
tion, where he waited an hour; one of those hours that
stretch across a lifetime and reach out beyond.
408 MILLS OF MAMMON
That night a figure wrapped in a faded brown over
coat and wearing a cap pulled down over face and ears,
left the building where Price had apartments, left by the
back way and later entered with a roll of papers and
bulging pockets.
"There, by the gods, I m glad that s done. My, that
was a beastly job, but I ve got the goods, compound
and all."
The speaker threw the roll of papers on the table and
emptied his pockets, tried the door, removed his shabby
clothing and consigned them to the top shelf in a closet.
Ensconced in smoking jacket and comfortable in slip
pers, he pulled a chair to the table, and after lighting a
cigar, began the examination of the papers.
* * * * * #
"For the Lord o mercy, if it ain t Charley !"
The speaker, Jed Holcomb, was standing with his
body blocking the doorway. Open-mouthed, disconcert
ed, he gazed at the man, who but a moment before had
knocked upon the front door.
"Well, father, she isn t she isn t dead ?" Charley be
gan.
"Who isn t dead?" Jed asked in a shaking voice, as
he stepped out on the porch and closed the door behind
him.
"Why, Mary. I got your message. You "
"My message, Charley, why, I ain t sent you no mes
sage an Charley, don t tell mother I sent you word to
come; she d think they d both think, I sent it so as
you d come an break off th business "
"You didn t send a message, you say?" The young
man spoke slowly while Jed nodded vigorously. "And
Mary is not sick? * he went on, then asked: "What
does it mean? Let s go in and talk it over."
The old man laid a hand upon his son-in-law s arm
and said : "I hate like pizen to tell you boy, but mother
is a gitten a divorce fer Mary to-day, and a young gos-
lin of a preacher will be a-courtin her open an above-
board to-morrer. I don t like it, but they ain t no use to
holier, and you see it wouldn t do fer me t have you in
th house when they come back." He looked furtively
up and down the street. "They may be comin back any
minute now."
PRICE IN THE ROLE OF A BURGLAR 4OQ
Stunned, bewildered, and at a loss to account for his
inability to even answer the stooped figure before him,
the young man stood shuffling his feet and frowning at
the door. "What could he do ? What did it all mean ?"
"They are comin Charley; please don t stay."
Jed s eyes were on the stretch of street to the south
and Charley turned in that direction.
"Yes, the larger figure was Martha, and the other
in spite of all he had suffered, a strange heart hunger
possessed him.
"If they see you an think I sent for you, they won t
be no livin with either of them, t say nothin of
both "
The pleading eyes of the older man brought Charley
to his senses.
"You are right, father; you are right," and as he
took the old man s hand, he added: "I m glad I came
father, glad to have a sight of you, remember that. I ll
go out the alley way," he added, and with a last good-
by swung down the steps and traveled the familiar
path to the little barn, then down the alley to a side
street.
"What can it mean? Did some one here who knew
about the divorce proceedings wire me, in order to make
more trouble for all of us? That must be it," Harris
told himself as he hurried to a hotel. "And it proves
that mother was right when she said half the trouble in
the world was caused by people who were afraid there
would be less of it to-morrow than there was yesterday,
and in order to keep up the average and give God some
thing to forget and the devil one more soul to remember,
work overtime at trouble brewing."
At the hotel he asked when he could get a train for
Chicago.
"The bus has gone, but if you hurry you can make
it," the clerk replied, and the guest hurried out into the
night.
Martin had not discovered that Harris and his wife
had parted. All he knew was that she was with her
folks. And Price had calculated that even after Harris
discovered the message to be a fake, he would hardly
return to the city within a couple of days, and that
would be ample time in which to get prints of all the
410 MILLS OF MAMMON
drawings as well as an analysis of the compound. But
Harris, as we have seen, spent but little time at the
home of the Holcombs and was on his way back, while
Price was skulking down side streets with his loot.
CHAPTER XV.
HOLDON RETURNS.
The first man the Honorable Horace Holdon met
upon his return from Kansas City was none other than
ex-Superintendent Price.
"Get my wire?" he asked cheerily, when Price met
him at the Eagle.
"Yes, and I ve got other things."
"Not the Harris plans?"
"Yes, everything," Price affirmed. "And it was like
taking candy from a baby. But between you and I it
won t be a baby we ll have to handle if he ever gets next
to the deal. He got back before I could return the
swag. He s dangerous."
The magnate laughed softly.
"Think he s dangerous, do you? Well, if he wants
revenge, he ll have to take it out of either you or Robin
son; I want the machine, and if some one besides Har
ris can show me a machine that will do the work say,"
he turned suddenly and shot a quick look at Price. "You
are sending all the drawings and claims to Washington
in Robinson s name, are you?"
"Sure thing, and I have his bill of sale for the ma
chine ; this is it." He extracted an envelope from a num
ber he had taken from his pocket, and as he handed it
to Holdon, remarked : "The model maker will have his
work finished within two weeks."
"That s good," Holdon mumbled, as he read the
document Price had handed him. When he had finished
reading he looked up. "I see you have taken care of
your own interests in this conveyance." The tone was
not pleasant, and Price flushed.
"Well er yes," he stammered. "I have taken all
the risks, and I don t think a half interest in the machine
is any too much."
411
412 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Well, I think it is too much, and I would strongly
advise that you do a bit more thinking along that line,
and when you get it thought out, 1 shall expect an as
signment of the interest this document gives you."
"But," Price began, when Holdon, with a wave of
his hand, declared:
"There are no buts in this case, Price, and I thought
you understood it. I gave you instructions and the
money to carry them out. I told you I wanted that ma
chine. I never intimated that I wanted to enter into
a business partnership with you, did I?"
"No, but "
"There it goes again; I tell you there are no buts
in the case. For a certain sum per month you agreed to
handle this matter, did you not?"
"Y-e-s," the answer was long in coming, though
short in itself.
"Was there anything said about you having a half
interest or any other interest in the machine?"
Holdon waited for some time for the "No," Price
reluctantly uttered.
"I am glad, Price, deuced glad, your memory is bet
ter to-night than it was when you had that assignment
drawn up," Holdon observed, laughingly, and after giv
ing his agent instructions for the morrow, excused him
self and went home.
When Price reached his apartments he was in any
thing but a pleasant frame of mind.
"The old hog wants the middle of the trough, does
he ? And after me running the risk of a trip to the pen.
Well, my dear, good, ambitious boss, I haven t forgotten
that I have a couple of letters of yours marked "Destroy
this safely tucked away, and before I assign the half
interest in Harris patents, I rather guess I ll mention the
fact that I forgot to destroy them and see then if there
are no huts in the case."
He had his feet on the table, a cigar between his
teeth, and was planning the last battle of his campaign.
"Gad, I wonder if his hair won t curl some when he
finds out how much T took out of the Holdon Company.
Hope he don t study his bank balance too close before
we get this Harris business finished up."
HOLDON RETURNS 4 ! 3
A vigorous knocking on the outer door brought
Price to his feet.
"Now, who "
The knocks being repeated even more vigorously, he
called out, "Come in," and Charley Harris entered.
As their eyes met, Price put a trembling hand on
the table, and tried to utter a welcome, but the face of
his visitor, the aggressiveness, determination, desperate-
ness of the whole man unnerved him. He had told
Holdon they would not have a baby to deal with should
this man ever "get next."
"God, Price, I didn t know you were taking it so
hard, too," Charley burst out, throwing himself into a
chair.
Price had his cue. With a sigh of relief, he, too, sat
down, and the visitor, looking at his host, noted a pallor
and nervousness he had never before observed about the
man.
"Take it hard," Price began in a low voice. "Why
should I not take it hard? Think of the money I ve
spent, besides Holdon s back and don t seem to take
much stock in the story you tell. He insists upon hav
ing the machine and says he will have it if he has to
buy it from "
"The thief," Harris finished.
"Yes, the thief," the other agreed.
"But, see here, Price, whoever stole those drawings
and that compound, can t finish the machine unless he
has the drawings and specifications belonging to that
part of the work I had already finished."
He brought his fist down on the table with a thump.
"And what I came up here for to-night was to find out
if you ever allowed any one to take copies of the draw
ings you took to the pattern maker?"- Looking straight
at Price, he demanded an answer.
"How absurd," that gentleman declared, and con
veniently dropped a match, stooped to recover it, and
while relighting his cigar, gained the time necessary to
shape his answer. "Absurd, Harris, utterly absurd!
I ve been in business too long to do such a fool thing
as you surmise."
"Well, will you tell me what could have possessed a
thief to take those drawings of mine, and that heavy
414 MILLS OF MAMMON
compound and leave money lying in the drawers he
rummaged through? Tell me that; tell me what use he
could possibly make of them, unless he had the rest of
them? I tell you there s been a leak and it wasn t at
my end. The old pattern maker says not a soul but
you ever saw the drawings, the last man says you visited
him often and as I had told him you were in the deal
with me, he never thought to keep the work away from
you."
Harris paused, but Price did not take his eyes from
the ceiling, as he said:
"I surely told you I visited the last pattern maker;
you see, I couldn t always take time to run clear out to
the shop, and I was as anxious as you to see the thing
completed before before Mr. Holdon s return."
"And you never made duplicates of my drawings or
gave a description of the machine to any one other than
Mr. Holdon?"
The question came in a low voice, but it carried
something of menace in its timbre.
"Never!" Price almost shouted, turning squarely to
ward his visitor and reassuring him. His shaking nerves
told that he did not miss the measure of. the man he had
robbed.
"That s all, Price."
Harris got to his feet, pulled his hat down over his
eyes and strode to the door. There he hesitated, turned,
and facing his host, said:
"The man who stole those drawings has stolen the
rest of the machine, and, so help me God, I will kill him
I would kill him if I knew that there was a red-hot
hell waiting for me."
The visitor was gone, but Price did not retire until
he had considered every possible chance he could con
jure up whereby the mechanic who had had a vision,
might discover the truth.
CHAPTER XVI.
MICKEY MEETS AN OLD FRIEND.
Charley Harris determined while on the way home
after his talk with Price to see Holdon the next morn
ing, and accordingly went to the foundry early.
When lie inquired for Mr. Holdon, a clerk informed
him that Holdon was no longer connected with the es
tablishment in an official capacity, and the disappointed
mechanic was loitering about on the street in front of
the plant, hardly knowing what next to do, when he saw
Mickey Dougherty scuttling into an alley on a side street
as though he were trying to avoid some one.
Without a thought, other than that he owed the
cripple an apology for his unceremonious leave-taking
some months before, Charley ran down the side street
and fairly ran into Mickey at the mouth of the alley.
"Well, of all things !" he exclaimed. "How are you,
Mickey?"
"Did he see youse, too?" the other questioned, hold
ing out his hand.
"Who see me?" Harris asked, as their hands clasped.
"Why, his nibs, deboss!"
"No, I guess not was it Mr. Holdon you meant?
If it was I assure you I want to see him and I will
was it Mr. Holdon?"
"Yep, Mr. Holdon."
"Where did you see him?"
"Why, as I was a-makin a sneak back of de works,
trying t see some one I knows, he comes along on de
street an stops. I turns from a lookin tru de fence an
it s him; so I hits de high places only, till I gits most
down dis alley."
"But why in the world would you run; are you
working? What have you been doing since I left?"
"Say, Charley," Mickey looked up soberly. "Them
is long questions an I ain t got answers fer all of them,
415
MILLS OF MAMMON
cept this: I was makin my git-away cause I don t
want t meet Old Holdon. I ain t bin in th works fer
a thousand years, an what I bin doin since I seed youse
last I d give I d give anything t be able t fergit an
that s all I kin tell yer, Charley all I kin tell any
body."
Charley stood looking at the forlorn little figure be
fore him. The months that had passed since they part
ed had stamped old age on the face of Mickey Dough
erty, and the man standing more than head and shoul
ders above him for the time forgot his troubles as he
pictured the hard luck Mickey must have experienced to
so change him.
"Mickey," he put a hand upon his companion s
shoulder. "I ve got a few dollars and a place to eat and
sleep; won t you share them with me?"
"Me? Wy, I don t need no money; what I need is
frien s frien s some one t help me. I m I m des
perate, an I don t no more know what t do n a rabbit."
The Irishman lifted his blue eyes to Charley s face,
and Charley saw not only the quivering lips, but great
salty tears welling up and out of those appealing eyes.
He could appreciate the gravity of a situation which
would force tears from the eyes of Mickey Dougherty,
and his heart went out to his old-time chum.
"Mickey, we all run into hard lines in this world,
and I feel that mine are about as hard as man was ever
called upon to endure. So let s halve our troubles by
taking up our old friendship, and I promise you I will
not run away again without a good-by."
"All right, Charley, an I ll go out home with youse;
might jist as well live with youse as anybody better, I
guess but, I ain t a-promisin t spill my troubles, not
even if youse asks me."
So it happened that Mickey got scent of a new trail
that night when Charley told him of the robbery, and
of his visit to Price, and that gentleman s avowal that
he was not responsible for any "leak" that might have
led up to the robbery.
Mickey s memory of a conversation they had had
when Charley first told him that Price had invented a
moulding machine and wanted him to build it, together
with the suspicion aroused when he overheard Price
MICKEY MEETS AN OLD FRIEND 417
and Moran that morning, came back to him, and he de
termined to shadow Price until either he or Harris had
found a clue to the thief.
This new occupation was a relief to him, inasmuch
as it lifted his mind above the rut in which his troubles
had confined it.
Two days later Charley found him at the house when
he returned home from an interview with Holdon.
"Say, Charley, you know I worked in the foundry,
an ought t know when I sees a machine t do that
sort ov work, hadn t I?" was Mickey s welcome as
Charley entered the room.
"Sure thing why, I ll bet you d know what my
machine was for the minute you put your eyes on it."
"Well, suppose youse opens up a little, an , startin
at the ground, tells me what your machine looks like;
how it is run: where youse pours in th iron; how th
castings is made, an what sort of a contraption it is on
top. Tell me all about it, so as I kin jist see it in front
of my eyes."
"Why, that s easy, Mickey, even if they did steal all
my drawings, I can see the machine. It s like this: It
sets on the floor on a base shaped like this." He drew
a sheet of paper to him and quickly drew an outline.
Mickey followed every movement of the pencil and
never uttered a word until the whole machine had been
described, and the more important parts outlined; then
he straightened up.
"Charley, ef youse l promise not to do nothin rash,
not to try t make me tell youse nothin till I m ready,
I ll tell youse somethin ."
"Promise! Promise! Why, of course, I ll promise;
fire away."
"Then it s this; I seen yer machine."
"Were you out at the shop?" Charley interrupted.
"No, not to th one youse mean; but I was t a
shop."
"And saw oh, pshaw, you re joking."
"Not on yer life; I hain t jokin ; I tell youse I seen
yer machine. It s changed some, but it s made to do th
same work."
"Where did you see it?"
"There you goes. I knowed youse would, but youse
4l8 MILLS OF MAMMON
gived a promise an I m a-goin t hold yer t it; I ain t
ready t tell nothin else. When I am, youse l know
who stold yer machine an I ll have another som thin
often my mind."
By every means short of force, Harris tried to worm
from the cripple at least a part of the story he knew lay
behind his sturdy assertion, that he had visited a shop
and had seen the Harris Automatic Moulder.
Finally Mickey looked at the clock, saying: "I got
t be hittin it, Charley."
"Why, what on earth ! It s bed time and we haven t
had supper. You aren t going out this time of night.
Wait, I ll get something to eat."
Mickey, declaring he had to go and that he couldn t
wait for anything to eat, left the house, leaving a much
perplexed mechanic to mull over some much mixed and
perplexing probabilities.
CHAPTER XVII.
LOST A SON.
How many thousand homes, how many, many moth
ers hearts might well carry these three words : "Lost a
son!" or even these: "Lost a daughter!" branded with
the ever hot iron of memory where the world might read.
As you and I have become acquainted with Joel Hoi-
don know his willful, bestial crimes, I doubt if one of
us could force a tear to fall in tribute to his memory.
We know, but his father and sister do not know. And
supposing they did know, is it not within reason that they
would charge the son s crime to the woman s passion and
move heaven and earth to reach the one responsible for
his death ? Is this not the way in which we square away
the sins of our own flesh?
"It s no use, Bee. The agency Price put on the case,
and the detectives White hired, as well as those I en
gaged because they thought they had a clew, have all
come to the same conclusion Joel was killed somewhere
between Kansas City and a point west of Dallas, Texas,
killed for the money and jewelry he carried." The fath
er paused and stroked the girl s head, as it lay upon his
shoulder.
"Did they, did they do everything, everything money
could do?" she asked between sobs.
"Everything, sweetheart, everything. I wouldn t be
here to-night if they hadn t. We thought we had a strong
clew in Dallas, but while the experts declare a signature
on a hotel register there was written by Joel, we were
unable to find the slightest trace of him, or, for that
matter, of the Mr. Smith who registered that night.
Aside from a couple of loungers and guest there was no
one but the clerk in the office. A week later the clerk
went to El Paso; we brought him back because the men
who were in the office swore this Mr. Smith wore clothes
such as Joel had on when last seen in Kansas City, and
419
42O MILLS OF MAMMON
carried a suit-case. The suit-case was missing, though
the men swore Mr. Smith did not take it with him when
he went out to some address" to which he had inquired
the way. Of course the detectives suspected the clerk
of having taken the suit-case, but he established his in
nocence. He remembered where this Mr. Smith went, or
at least where he directed him to go. The detectives dis
covered that a Southern woman,named Estella something,
a baby, a colored servant and a crippled fellow lived at
the address the clerk had given. By the time we had gotten
there, or a little before, they had left the city ; she to join
her husband in St. Louis, then go South. We followed
every clew ; I went out to the house, but I never believed
Joel had been there. He couldn t have known the
woman, and if he had he wouldn t have stopped there
on his way to be married."
"Wasn t it strange he never told us he was engaged ?"
Beatrice whispered.
"Yes, it was strange, but, sweetheart, men do strange
things."
Silence fell over the grand setting supplied for this
recounting of a life tragedy, while the father thought
how little he had known his only son, as he reviewed the
side lights upon his life, this quest for him had revealed.
And the sister silently prayed that her wayward brother
might be restored to her, promising in her heart to for
give and forget all that had passed, if he but returned to
them.
"I have done everything; will continue to do every
thing so long as the agencies will take my money ; but, I
have lost hope. The detective now in the South has run
a dozen clews to earth and is asking to be relieved. I
have put another man on the back track, to find out to
find out if there was any relationship, any circumstance
that might, if discovered, give us a fresh hold; but so
far, there are no developments."
"Did he take much money with him ?" Beatrice asked
at this point.
"Yes, all he could rake and scrape together; besides,
he bought about four thousand dollars worth of dia
monds and such stuff."
"Four thousand !" the girl exclaimed.
LOST A SON 421
"Yes, a present to his bride-to-be. I will pay for
them to-morrow. Besides, he borrowed money, and but,
I shouldn t be telling you this." Holdon bent and kissed
his daughter. "The boy is known to have exhibited his
money and talked of the jewels he was taking with him,
and it is the opinion of the police that the plot to do
away with him was hatched here, and that he was lured
to his death by some one he believed to be a friend."
Beatrice sat up and with her hands locked behind her
father s neck, looked into his tear-dimmed eyes.
"Oh, daddy, he was a foolish boy. I know how you
have longed for years for him to settle down ; but, daddy,
if he d only come home, only come home!"
"Yes, if he d only come home," the father repeated,
and added, "I could forgive everything; but, he won t
come, Bee, so you and I will just have to make the best
of it, and forget that we ever hoped to see Joel a sub
stantial, steady-going business man. We will have to
learn to forget, Bee, forget."
"And forgetting is doubly hard when we do not know
what it is we must forget, doubly hard," the girl ob
served as Holdon got up and announced that he had to
meet an engagement downtown.
The engagement the Hon. Horace Holdon had to
meet, was with Mr. Abner, the new president of the
Founders Trust. They had been discussing business in
a general way for about fifteen minutes, when Mr. Abner
turning his little head with a jerk, blinked savagely, and
observed: "Your superintendent, that man Price, left
things in a nice mess here."
"What do you mean ?" Holdon scowled. He had never
loved Abner, and although he had given up his hold on
the plant and the remunerative office of president to sat
isfy a widening ambition, he still felt jealous of Abner,
and did not relish that little man s tart comment on cer
tain conditions he had found upon taking charge of the
plant.
"Oh, I know you will champion him, Mr. Holdon.
When I think so much of a man that I hand him a check
and tell him to fill it in," Abner began banteringly, when
his visitor interrupted hotly: "A matter of business,
422 MILLS OF MAMMON
my dear sir, a matter of business, if you refer to the
check I gave Mr. Price when you took charge."
"Exactly, exactly," Abner chuckled and rubbed his
hands. "And do you know, I ve often wondered if you
yet know the figure that check was drawn for?" Another
soft chuckle and an added question: "Do you?"
"No, I don t, having been out of the city practically
ever since I handed it to him." He paused. "If it will
relieve your mind any, suppose you tell me the figure."
Holdon leaned back smiling at the neat turn he had
given his last speech.
"With all the pleasure in the world." Taking the
auditor s report from a drawer, he ran his eyes over it
hurriedly and looking up, said :
"The auditor found him thirty thousand short."
"Thirty thousand devils!" Holdon was out of his
chair and had snatched up the report.
Mr. Abner paused but a moment and went on.
"And of course the check you so. kindly signed for
him was drawn to cover that amount."
Holdon had mastered all outward show of anger
when he finally handed the report to Abner. He re
marked calmly: "Come to think of it; that would be
about the figure after he had drawn for the deals I had
entrusted to him. Of course, at first blush, I was startled.
To accuse a man of being short thirty thousand without
the proof to back your assertion is just a bit lurid, you
know, and it caught me."
"Well, I m glad it s all right, for, to be frank with
you, while it would seem that I was mistaken in this
matter, I can assure you, I have not changed my mind
about the man he s "
"He s earned your ill will because he refused to let
you have your own way here before he was satisfied that
my interests were being fully protected," Holdon said
aloud, but inwardly he was boiling.
"Have it that way, if you please, my dear friend, and
let us hope you need never change your mind," Abner
answered calmly, and other visitors -being announced,
Holdon took his departure.
He had a second appointment to meet, and went to
it in anything but a good humor. This time, he was to
LOST A SON 423
meet the man who had been robbed. Going direct from
the office of Mr. Abner to his suite of rooms over
"Shifty" Smith s, he did not have long to wait before
Harris was heard knocking upon the door that connected
the suite with the vacant room in the adjoining building,
through which Price had taught him to seek entrance.
Holdon was not expecting a visitor from that direction
by daylight, and for a moment, hesitated to throw the
bolt. The knock being repeated, he shot back the bolt,
and Charley Harris, hat in hand, stepped in. The mag
nate was so surprised that he did not question the visitor
as to how he had obtained knowledge of the secret en
trance. On the contrary, without a word, he led the
way into the room where Charley had seen him once
before, standing by the table, while Price insisted that
he was out of the city.
"Well !" When seated, Holdon uttered this one word.
"I ve been robbed," Harris answered.
"It s the common lot of men," the host observed with
a sneer. "You don t need to feel bad about it, we all
get touched occasionally, you know."
"But, some one has stolen my machine and "
"And, see here; I ve a mind to throw you through
the window." Holdon had let all holds go. "You and
your machine ! Did you ever have a machine ? I don t
believe a word of it. You and Price, between you, have
been bilking me out of good money for a year on the
strength of a machine I never saw. I tell you, young
man, you ve played your last card; and you wouldn t
6e here now with your tale of robbery if you knew "
"I protest, Mr. Holdon, I do know that you are un
just. Let me explain."
Harris was on his feet.
"You want to protest, do you ? Find Price ; then the
two of you come up here together, and I ll listen to your
protest."
"But, Price is as much in the dark about "
"Get out of my sight !" Holdon thundered at Charley s
intimation that Price was innocent of something unstated,
but innocent. "Get out, you young thief you robbed,
indeed !"
"Don t you call me a thief ; I might forget your age,"
Charley broke in in a choked voice.
MILLS OF MAMMON
"Then go ; how many times must I tell you ?"
On the street, Harris started toward Clark street,
when a figure darted out of a doorway. A hand was
laid upon his arm and he heard :
"Don t go that way ; youse don t want t be seen by a
party I m layin fer go back home. I m a-comin out
purty soon an I ve got a piece ov news fer youse."
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PROSPECTIVE CANDIDATE AT A CONFERENCE.
Judge Terwill, actuated solely by a patriotic desire to
serve his city(?), had called a conference in Fat Fred s
suite at the Eagle for the afternoon of the day follow
ing Holdon s discovery of Price s duplicity and his sum
mary disposal of Harris.
It is quite probable had the judge known the status
of affairs between Price and his master, Price would
have been left out, and Price, who had been working
like a beaver with pattern maker, machine builder and
model maker, had a grist of good news for his employer
and thought there would be an excellent opportunity at
the conference to lay these matters before him. Judge
Terwill, having transacted all business relative to Hoi-
don and the spring campaign through Price, naturally
concluded that he was to be Holdon s right-hand man,
suds dispenser, small change passer and molly-coddle
buffer-in-general, therefore the invitation.
Price arrived ahead of his employer. When the lat
ter came in, and after greeting the others present sat
down as far away from Price as possible and without a
word to him, that gentleman got up, went over to the
magnate and whispered: "I ve got a lot of things to
tell youcould you " he got no farther.
Tapping the arms of his chair to keep his hands off
the man who began to go white under his withering
look, Holdon hissed: "Yes, you have a lot to tell me,
and you ll come when I send for you; don t forg-et
that."
Price backed away and resumed his seat as Fat Fred
called upon the judge to state the reason for calling the
conference.
The judge, carefully measuring his utterances, as
sured his hearers that he felt honored, etc., and was fol-
425
426 MILLS OF MAMMON
lowing this introduction with a plain statement of facts,
when an interruption came.
"Do I understand that whatever may be said here
to-day is to be considered confidential?" Holdon de
manded without prefacing his speech in any manner.
"Most assuredly," the judge beamed. "We have
abundant reason to be careful."
"Then I shall have to request the withdrawal of that
man," Holdon pointed at Price.
"Well, well, well; but, I understood," the judge be
gan, while the other gentlemen, uncomfortable and em
barrassed, shot furtive glances at the principals in the
action, but kept silent.
That man," Holdon insisted, "must withdraw, or I
will have no part in your "
"I demand an explanation," Price spluttered, but his
face told those who observed him that he lied.
"Mr. Price ! Mr. Holdon ! Gentlemen," it was the
suave-voiced judge, "let us understand just one thing.
Is or is not Mr. Price to have an interest in the er
matters we are met to discuss?"
"Never!" Holdon bellowed.
"That being the case, gentlemen, I must bear the
blame. Without consulting Mr. Holdon, I invited Mr.
Price to this conference. But, of course, Mr. Price can
have no desire to remain."
"None whatever," Price mumbled, and left the room.
With the atmosphere cleared and the remaining vis
itors vouched for by the judge, the conference pro
gressed smoothly; a new state machine was organized
and plans laid for capturing the party machinery in the
city before the spring campaign opened. Through it
all the nicely modulated voice of the judge purred on,
calming the boisterous, satisfying the skeptical, encour
aging the faint-hearted. When the gentlemen had fin
ished their labors, it was understood that the Hon. Hor
ace Holdon was to stand as the business man s candi
date for mayor. Judge Terwill assumed charge of the
press agency, Gardner took the saloons and gamblers,
and the handling of the preachers and temperance peo
ple was left open. The judge opined he had the very
man to spread the salve in that direction. Well satisfied
THE PROSPECTIVE CANDIDATE AT A CONFERENCE 427
v/ith each other and joying in the savory smell of the
flesh pots but a little way beyond, the conference broke
up.
Before leaving- the club, Holdon had Price s apart
ments called up, and on being told Price was there, he
gruffly ordered the boy to hold the phone. For fully
five minutes he stood before the instrument with clinch
ed fists and purple face before he could master his anger
enough to trust his voice. Then, taking down the re
ceiver, he asked that Price be called to the phone.
"That you Price? What s that? Don t talk that
way to me, sir. I I why what s that? Yes, I ll be
there, nine o clock to-night, and mind, there s to be no
trying to dodge the issue. You either make good or by
I ll put you where "
"What s that? Oh, you will?"
The receiver went to the hook with a bang, and the
magnate hurried from the club.
It was nearing nine o clock that night, when two
persons started downtown from the building in which
Price had his apartments. One had left the building
through the front exit, the other had sneaked out of the
shadowy court as the first left the lighted portal. Down
through the thoroughfares they went, seemingly in
separable as substance and shadow. At the entrance to
the building adjoining "Shifty" Smith s, the shadow
paused an instant, then darted in after the substance.
Three hours later Mickey entered Charley Harris
home and stood looking at the mechanic, who all the
evening had sat brooding over his troubles. The cripple
looked at him so long without speaking that Charley be
gan to wonder if the little Irishman had lost his wits.
"Well, Mickey, have you lost your voice?" Charley
finally asked.
"Not me, but Fse wonderin how t tell youse what I
got ter so as youse won t lose yer head."
"Lose my head? Why, Mickey, if anything in this
world could make me lose my head, I wouldn t have it
now."
"Wouldn t? Well, don t youse be too sure."
He sat down, threw off his coat and cap and seemed
in no hurry to tell his news.
428 MILLS OF MAMMON
"Go ahead, Mickey, I m waiting," the other admon
ished.
"All right, all right; I se found yer robber, and it s
two of em, stead of one."
"Don t joke, Mickey, please don t."
"No joke, Charley; this is th word with th bark
on it. I seen both of em heard all they says an now
it s up t youse."
"Heard them !" Charley stood with his hands spread
out on the table, every nerve, every fiber of his body
tense. "Mickey, don t tell me a word that is not God
Almighty s truth." He measured the words one by one
in a low voice. "God Almighty s truth, Mickey, for I
am not to be played with, not by you, even."
The cripple looked up and something he read in the
mechanic s face caused his voice to tremble as he went
on:
"It s th truth, Charley ; I seen them heard them
an an "
"Go on!"
"Well, if I must it s Stinker Price an th Boss
an I wish t God it hadn t a-bin th Boss. I ain t got
nothin agin him no more God knows I ain t."
"Price and Mr. Holdon; is that what you mean?"
"Yes them, an nobody else," Mickey answered,
passing a hand over his eyes to rid himself of the face
he saw across the table. To himself he said : "He takes
it a sight differenter as I thought he would jist as
quiet."
"Go on, Mickey."
"Well, youse remember last night, how I twigged
youse an tells yer youse better go th other way? Well,
I was a-layin fer Stinker Price then, an I was some
afraid he might shy off ef he sees youse moonin round.
He went up into th buildin jist th other side ov
Shifty Smith s joint, an I most froze fore he comes
down; then purty soon down comes Mr. Holdon. Now
I hooks em together on this robbin business to oncet.
Yer got t use yer headpiece ef youse wants t git next
t things in th mertropolis, an youse don t never want
t forgit nothin . I remembers how Holdon wants yer
machine, an how Price was so mighty anxious t find
youse that time youse hit th grit; so when I meets up
THE PROSPECTIVE CANDIDATE AT A CONFERENCE 429
with youse this time, an youse ses as how some bloke
has swiped yer fixin s fer th machine, I ses t myself,
Mickey, that ain t no hard nut t crack; jist keep yer
lamps on Stinker* Price, that s all/ "
"Yes, and then?"
"Don t look at me that way," the narrator protested.
"I I hev seen only one set of eyes that looked like
yourn do an I got enough t do t fergit them."
Charley mumbled a promise not to look that way
any more if Mickey would finish his story.
"Well, I was right as a rivet. I told youse I d seen
yer machine; it s in a little shop run by a man name
of Robinson at street. I follered Stinker
Price there, an when he went away I made up to Mr.
Robinson he s as innocent as can be an it didn t take
me but two days t find out that th Stinker was havin
a machine built. Then cause I acted like I m half nuts,
an jist can t help it, I gets t see th machine, an holds
things an gits tools fer Mr. Robinson. I asks youse,
remember? what sort of machine it is, an as soon as ever
youse tells me I knows I got it straight; an to-night
fixed it." The cripple paused, got up and seemed loath
to finish his story.
"Go on, go on! My God, man, don t you see how
hard I am trying to be to keep quiet, until you come to
the end?"
"And then what?" Mickey demanded, shooting a
quick look at the other.
"Leave that to me but now for God s sake tell
me the rest."
"I was a-feared of it." Mickey spoke more to him
self than to his listener, and went on:
"Well, to-night, I f oilers th Stinker t Shifty s ,
he goes up them same stairs an I follers. Then when
he s in th back end of a side hall, he lights a match,
opens a door an goes in. I sees his match go out an
steps in with him. When I thinks what he ll do t me
if he lights another match an sees me, I purty near
croaks. But, I m in there, an he s huntin fer another
match, an swearin whilst I prays prays, that he ain t
got no more matches, which is bout th only prayer I
ever had answered, fer he ain t got none. Then he un
locks another door and says, guess I better see if that
430 MILLS OF MAMMON
other door is latched, an goes back t th first one an I
dodges in t the one he s jist opened a minute afore an
begins t feel fer some place t hide, when I comes t a
other door an it isn t shut, so I slips in an finds I m in
a swell bedroom. Jist then I hears somebody sing out,
That you, Price ? an I knows to oncet it s my old boss.
I makes a duck under th bed an from then on, I jist
about fergot that I might be took out frum under that
bed an* be skinned alive. First off, Holdon s fer han-
din Price over to th police, says he s robbed him of
$25,000 an* when Price mentions your machine, Holdon
fairly sizzles, he *s so mad, swears that s another piece
of robbery, says he s bin bamboozled by both of youse.
Then th Stinker tells him where th machine is and
that by to-morrer night he can have th drawin s, formu
la an* other papers all where th boss can see fer himself
that th machine is all t th good. Then old Holdon
fires at him. Hev them papers, th assignment of your
interest an ? all th rest of it here to-morrer night at ten
o clock, an we will settle this machine business ; an* see
that youse is prompt, too, cause I m goin to stay here
to-morrer night and you ll have to git through business
by eleven o clock. "
"Did he say ten o clock?"
"Yep, ten perzactly. Well, I thought th show was
about over an was wonderin how t make me git-away,
when Holdon says: Are youse going t be prepared t
repay that twenty-five thousand to-morrer night? Price
waits a minute an then says, I ll promise t set youse
right on th machine, but will have t take a little more
time on th money, when Holdon snaps him up. No,
youse don t; we clean th whole business up to-morrer
night. So come prepared, and th Stinker agrees. An
they leaves suddin , an say, I m plum scared till I gits
t thinkin that all them locks jist hev keys fer th out-
sides. Ennybody kin git out, but it takes keys t git in.
Comin out here , I gits t thinkin how them gents has
bin plannin t rob youse from th start. An how
Stinker Price gits it inter his nut t help Holdon rob
youse. Then when he has th old man where th hair is
short, up an robs him. Say, I d like t be up there to-
morrer night, but I got other biz t tend t bet yer life
it will be gay."
THE PROSPECTIVE CANDIDATE AT A CONFERENCE 43!
"Well, why don t youse say something?" Mickey in
quired after waiting a long time for Charley to com
ment upon his story.
"It s up to me to do, the saying s all been done." The
tone of the speaker, was level , matter-of-fact, subdued,
and Mickey looked at him in astonishment.
"Well, what do youse think ov that? Cooler n me,
an it wasn t my machine." Mickey commented to him
self while watching his host.
"You say Price is to have the drawings up there to
morrow no, to-night? It s past one, Mickey."
"Yep, an now I put youse next, I m gcin t look aft
er a little biz of my own to-morrer, but I ll run out here
in a day or two an see how things is comin I d advise
youse t see a lawyer."
"I won t need a lawyer, and, Mickey, I never ex
pect to be able to thank you in this world "
"An no other counts with me," the cripple inter
rupted. "When I gits out of this cussed old world, I
wants t take a rest, an I don t want nobody comin
round thankin me fer anything I ever done here. I
want ter fergit it."
"Then let me thank you now, and, Mickey, if any
thing should happen to me, and we should not meet
again, remember I hold you the best and truest friend
I ever had, my mother excepted."
"That goes," Mickey grinned. "That goes an th
best luck I could wish youse fer to-night is that youse
could be under that bed. So long."
Charley stood in the doorway watching the cripple as
he made his way down the street, then turning the key,
he went to the light, drew a key ring from his pocket
and examined two keys closely.
"I wonder does he remember no, of course he does
not, and if he did, unless he suspected or had discovered
Mickey, poor little chap, he would never think of the
possibility of "
CHAPTER XIX.
MICKEY MEETS A TOPNOTCHER.
There was but one party at interest whose fear of
meeting Fly Boyd grew as the days of her coming grew
nearer, and that was Mickey.
What would she do how would she receive the baby ?
How much of his story dare he tell her? How should
he tell it? "Any ways," he concluded, as he mulled the
matter over for the hundredth time, "they don t none ov
em take my baby away from me. Wasn t de kid s
mother bugs ? Mighty queer she was set on a-sayin she
ain t never had no baby. An the doc says they was a
blank in her headpiece an a obsession of some sort in
her thinkin work; an me a-sittin there a-tryin t look
wise, when all I kin do is bat me lamps an nod, an me
not a-knowin a darned word he s a-sayin hardly. Say,
I wisht it was over, I wisht Fly would come."
And Fly came, but Mickey Dougherty did not meet
her that day. He had found other business, as we have
seen; business so engrossing that he even forgot the
baby; of course, he wouldn t have forgotten the baby or
missed Fly s home-coming had he not known that Mamie
would care for the baby, and not being at the Michigan
avenue house the day a wire came, telling them the mis
tress would arrive two days ahead of schedule, and then
the business well, surely Mickey may be excused.
When Mamie began the story of Mickey and the
baby, Fly asked : "When will his highness, Mr. Mickey,
arrive ?"
"I ve been expecting him any minute for three days."
"Well, he wants to put in an appearance inside of an
other three days, for I want to know this baby-hiding
business to the bottom."
"I can tell you part of the story, Flo, and I think you
will agree that I have done the right thing." Flo (to
432
MICKEY MEETS A TOPNOTCHER 433
Mamie, she was always "Flo"), leaning back in a
comfortable chair, evinced her willingness to listen, and
Mamie began. "You know how they came here, and
I ve kept you posted on everything up to the time she
died. When she got over that first bad spell the doctor
said she d live, for her mind was freed from the sorrow
that had been killing her. When she got well enough to
talk, she wanted to know where she was, and said she
had had such an awful bad dream. Looking all about
and at us, she wanted to know who we were and how
she came to be with us. My head ac hed from answer
ing her questions, and I guess hers did, too, from try
ing to understand my answers. When Dr. Thomas
came, the first thing he said was, Well, really, I didn t
expect this; she will get well, but it is doubtful if she
ever regains all her senses. I must see that little Irish
man and make him talk. Before he went away he had
an opportunity to talk to Mickey, but when I asked him
if he had learned anything, he only shook his head. One
morning when she was able to sit up, Mickey, who had
suffered keenly because she didn t know him, proposed
that we try what the baby could do toward bringing her
back to consciousness of the past. The baby was brought
in by Jane, and Mickey took it and carried it over to
her. She looked at it and smiling asked, Whose baby is
it? Isn t it a beautiful little thing? At that Mickey
lost command of himself. His face went white and as
he suddenly thrust the baby into her arms, he exclaimed,
Td think you d be ashamed to disown your own baby;
and it with no father or nothing but you an* me to take
care of it ! She had caught the little thing in her arms
when he thrust it upon her, but before he had finished
speaking, she dropped it in her lap and looked distressed :
It isn t my baby ; I couldn t have had a baby. Oh, won t
some one take it away and send that horrid little man
out of my sight? That was all she said, but the dis
tressed voice and the bitter weeping that followed Mick
ey s experiment convinced us that it was best to let her
have her own way. I did my best to make her believe
it a joke, but with little success. She declared it was
simply awful for Mickey to do such a thing. I left her
and found Mickey in Jane s room on his knees by the
baby s bed, crying as though his heart would break."
434 MILLS OF MAMMON
Mamie paused and looked fixedly at Fly. "I hope he
will tell you all the story. There is a tragedy back of his
love for this woman and baby; it s written all over his
face."
"He will tell me," Fly declared.
******
"Hello, Mickey, they tell me you have gotten to be a
man of family since last I saw you."
Fly Boyd met our little Irishman with outstretched
hand, as he entered her parior the morning after he had
delivered his startling news to Charley Harris.
"Yep, guess I m it all right, ail right," he responded.
"But say, youse is good to lok at in them togs. Say, d
youse know, Mamie jist about flunked when I brung the
missus and baby here. She sure got.cold feet."
"Do you blame her?" Fly asked, as she pointed him
to a chair.
"Well, rfot so as youse ud notice ; I reckon it was a
big contract t put up t her."
"I should say so; anti the baby, Mickey? Whose is
it, and what are you going to do with it?"
"Whose it is," Mickey answered after some delibera
tion, "was fer it s mother t say. What I m goin t do
with it is a heap sight bigger question than I kin find a
answer to jist now."
"But if you d tell, we could make its father take care
of it, you know. Otherwise, it will have to go -to some
orphans home."
"No, that kid don t go t no old orfing s home. An
it don t need no father t take care of it. I m a-goin t
see that kid raised, an say why won t youse kind of
dopt it, Fly? Youse d look mighty good with a baby
like that."
The peal of laughter that greeted this speech rather
dampened his ardor. What could she see that was laugh-
provoking in a thing that to him was all tragedy?
"Really, Mickey, you are too droll. The very idea."
And again the woman laughed.
"I don t see nothin funny bout this here biz," Mick
ey protested.
"You don t?" Fly gasped between paroxysms of
laughter. "Why, it s the funniest thing that ever hap-
MICKEY MEETS A TOPNOTCHER 435
pened. Whatever put it into your head to ask me to
adopt the baby?"
"What s a feller a-goin t do with th kid, ef some of
his fren s won t dopt it?"
"I said you could send it to an "
"An I says nit! I got t h coin t bring that kid up
a lady, an , an "
"You ve got the coin?" Incredulity written in every
line, Fly looked intently at her visitor. "Now, Mickey,
lets talk business," she admonished. "You say you have
the coin. How much, that s the question?"
"Well, how much had it oug ht to cost to keep er kid
like that a year?" Mickey parried.
"Oh, two or three hundred a year, and you know,
you can t possibly get that much together year after
year," she answered lightly.
"Can t I ? Say, Fly, I kin show youse in a minute
say, I kin keep dat kid dressed in velvet, an eatin offen
nuthin but gold dishes fer a hundred years !"
Diving into a pocket, Mickey fished up a handful of
bills, and held them out for Fly s inspection.
"And they s more where that come frum," he con
cluded as she took the bills.
"Twelve hundred dollars? W here in this world did
you get it, Mickey?"
"Where I had a right to take it fer th kid." He col
ored up and looked troubled when Fly pressed her ques
tion.
"They ain t no use, Fly, an youse is just wastin
time. They ain t nobody but me an God, if they is one,
as knows, an when I m dead, they won t be nobody
know. Say," he looked square into her eyes : "Youse
never knowed me to be nothin but square, did youse?"
"No, Mickey, I never did."
"Then ef I tells youse I hev a right t that money
long as I uses it t fake care ov th kid, youse ll b leve
me, won t yer?"
"Y-e-s, Mickey, I believe you. But it seems so
strange."
"An Fly, it s stranger as it seems," he answered with
a sigh, then looked up to ask : "What th hell am I goin*
t do ef youse won t dopt th kid? I had my heart set
on youse; course Mamie d take her, but Mamie ain t
MILLS OF MAMMON
Mamie, he was worth his weight in gold, even if he did
let trouble and dope get the best of him."
"Yes, he was white," Mamie admitted; then asked:
"What in the world did you want to get your hooks into
Holdon for anyway?"
Fly clasped her hands in her lap and, bending for
ward, sat silent with her eyes on a figure in the carpet
for a time, then looking up quickly, said :
"You remember, I had just broken with Jim and was
desperate. The scheme came to me after reading a well
written story in a Sunday paper. I thought I would
marry this old millionaire when he wasn t around, go
to Europe with him and milk him for all he would let
loose of, then come home and tell him what he was up
"against and get a lump sum from him in order to keep
me quiet and save him the notoriety an explosion would
cause."
"And why didn t you do it ?" Mamie wanted to know.
"Because he was too good to me, too good, Mamie.
Why, there never was an hour when he did not treat me
better than the majority of men treat their wives, I
fancy. So, bacl as I am, I could not bring myself to it,
I could not; and if I could destroy the record of that
little piece of business over in Michigan, I would gladly
do it. The cold facts are, Mamie, I m afraid it will come
out. What could I tell him ; what could I do ?"
"Have you forgotten Jim ?" the maid asked, reproval
in her voice.
"Forgotten Jim? No, I have not; I never shall. But
this case is different. Mr. Holdon has been square with
me, and if I had known him as well then, well, I wouldn t
have lugged poor old Tom over to Michigan!"
"As long as he don t know, I don t see why you
should fret about it," Mamie protested; then advised:
"If I was you, I d stick as long as he s good, and
when it s safe, I d let folks know how friendly he is.
Some day that Siarriage may prove the best investment
you ever made."
"So you d go up there to-night?" Fly questioned.
"Sure I d go. What are such men good for, if it isn t
to keep up the running expenses?"
CHAPTER XX.
A HAND AT HOLDON^S.
Mr. Abner was a much shrewder manager of men
than either the Hon. Horace Holdon or Mr. Franklin
Price, and it followed that while he boiled privately, he
was all smiles when any of his hands were about. The
reports from the Corporations Protective Association
had convinced him that there was a "leak" in his office
and a dangerous one. Taking over another man s busi
ness along with his mistakes but intensified Mr. Abner s
determination to rid himself of the mistakes, greatest
among which was the "raise" the hands had secured
through Price s tactical blunder. But the new manager-
president was not to rush blindly into a readjustment of
wages. First, he had to find the "leak," then gradually
dispose of the more aggressive unionists ; then, and only
then, could he put into execution his plans for a wide-
open shop. From the first he strongly suspected the
foreman and the confidential clerk Mr. Holdon had so
warmly commended. To be forearmed is better far than
to be forewarned. And Mr. Abner knew just what he
proposed to do, therefore set about arming for the bat
tle he proposed to bring on. His attorneys were given
the names of all the unions having members in the Hol
don plant and of the officials of the same, together with
instructions to prepare a blanket injunction against them
individually and collectively.
"And make it strong, so strong they can t do more
than breathe, then when the crash comes I ll put them
Out of business once and for all. When the thing s ready
bring it to me ; I want to look it over." These were his
exact words. And the forthcoming injunction pleased
him.
"Can you find a judge who would issue it? They
tell me most of your judges are politicians and are
afraid of the unions," he observed to the attorney, and
on that point he was reassured.
439
44O MILLS OF MAMMON
Moses Webster, who when a boy took up his home
with the people who later gave him their name, found
a note purporting to be from Moran on his desk one
morning shortly after the president had examined the
injunction he proposed to use as a club over the hands.
As a result, he went out to the moulding floor to see
what Moran wanted.
"Why, man alive, I never left a note for you, not on
union business. Say, don t do it again," the foreman
advised. "I tell you, for all his smiling, the new boss
isn t asleep, an you want to be careful."
Puzzled, the young man returned to his desk. And
after examining the note carefully, thought, "If I d taken
a second look at it, I would have known Moran never
sent it in."
"Mr. Abner wants you," a boy announced.
Webster looked up, then leaned back in his chair,
and was lost in thought until the boy appeared again.
At the second summons he hurried into the president s
office.
"Well, young man, how s the Moulder s Union?"
The question came point blank and the clerk stood
dumb. "Did you see Moran?" came next, and Moses
answered "Yes." "Well, young man, I don t know that
I ought to waste words on you, but I will say this much,
if half I believe of you is true, I ought to kick you off
the premises."
To this the clerk made no reply. He knew his doom.
"I didn t think you d have anything to say, a sneak
ing spy such as you generally is dumb when even con
fronted with a suspicion that he s been found out."
"So I m a sneaking spy, am I?" The man in him
had found voice.
The president whirled about in his chair.
"Yes, you are," he thundered, and the stenographer
hastily quit her seat.
"Stay there, Miss Wagner, if you please ; I may need
you," he commanded, and Moses now ready for battle,
replied with spirit:
"Yes, have Miss Wagner stay, have her stay; you
may need her, but not to take down what I have to say
to you you "
A HAND AT HOLDON S 44!
"What have you to say? Well, I like that." Mr.
Abner had recovered his poise. "I like that," he re
peated. "An informer, spy, ingrate, has something to
say to the man who has found him out. Go ahead, young
man, and you," to the stenographer, "see that you don t
miss a word."
"Now, young man, what have you to say?"
The president leaned back smiling, but when he
looked into the face and saw the eyes of the man stand
ing beside his desk, the smile faded.
"You have made it easy, Mr. Abner, easy for me to
tell you just what I think of you and the rest of the
employers of labor, who organized the Corporations
Protective Association." Moses paused a moment, drew
a long breath and trained his guns upon the enemy. "It
comes with poor grace from you to accuse another of
being a spy, when you, too cowardly to do a spy s work,
hire, with the profits you take out of the workers, a lot
of the world s outcasts to spy upon the men whose in
dustry made your wealth." Abner put up a hand in
protest. "No you don t ; I will have it out ! And I dare
you to call any one, and you can t put me out ; you, you
Sunday saint! Haven t I followed you to church?
Don t I know that you and I profess the same religion?
Yes, and I also know that it was my religion that caused
me to expose the Holdon Company s infamous scheme to
put perjured spies into the unions; and since I have
known you, and know that you are hand in glove with
the spy furnishers and are at this time planning the de
struction of the workers sole defense against your
greed, I often wonder if it is your religion that makes
you a reprobate or "
"Stop that!" Abner was on his feet. "Stop that,
you cur !" With clinched fists and livid face, he took one
step toward the clerk.
"Not another inch, you whited sepulcher, not an
other inch! As I am a Christian, if you cross the bor
der of that rug, I ll forget your age, everything, and do
what I ve longed to do ever since I learned that you were
no better than Price or Holdon."
The president halted, and in a torrent Moses poured
forth his pent-up indignation.
"What do such men as you care for us the men and
442 MILLS OF MAMMON
women who work for you? What do you care whether
our families live or die, whether we rot in filth or give
way in the struggle for existence and help swell your
criminal class? What do you care? And yet, you are
a Christian! God save the name of Christian. You, a
Christian! Why, your soul isn t big enough to lay on
the furnace grates in hell it would fall through into
the ash pit. A man who will hire a conscienceless
wretch to perjure his soul for a few filthy dollars isn t
fit to be named barbarian, to say nothing of parading as
a follower of Jesus Christ."
"I tell you I will not hear more of this; you are a
fit candidate for an asylum ! * Abner sat down and
reached for the button which once pressed would bring a
clerk to the room at double quick.
"Don t put your finger on that, or by all that s holy,
I ll give the whole works just what you re getting,"
Moses declared, and Abner withdrew his hand and bent
his head to listen. "When I first discovered that Hoi-
don was of your stripe I wanted to quit my job, but I
thought they might not bring on the spies after all. Then
when they did come, I either had to surrender my re
ligion or become an informer and spy in defense of the
men. I chose to stick to the men; and I want you to
understand that the only thing I regret in the whole con
nection is that the men did not treat Price to the same
dose they gave the spies. So far as you are concerned,
my prayer is that if you bring on another bunch of free-
born patriotic perjurers the men will take you out and
treat you the same as they did Farley and the others."
Moses sat down, but Abner did not look up. How
ever, Miss Wagner did, and the young man glancing at
her, read approval in her eyes.
"I ve had my say," Moses went on after a painful
silence, "and it s up to you make it short."
Slowly the great financier turned in his chair, his
face white and drawn.
"Young man," he began, "I don t want even a dog to
hold such an opinion of me as you have formed. I I
never ," he paused to pass a hand over his face. "I
never heard such talk in my life, and I don t know
how to meet it"; another pause. "I thought
they paid you for the information I really did."
A HAND AT HOLDON S 443
"Then you were mistaken. I was paid through the
approval of my own conscience, and while I faced, and
face now, the greatest misery that may fall upon a prop-
ertyless man, lack of employment, embittered by the
knowledge that you will blacklist me," Abner winced,
"yes, blacklist me I will go out of your office clean in
heart and soul, clean in thought, and ready to face any
indignity your power may put upon me and mine. I
have done a man s duty in as dirty a fight for dollars as
was ever waged against the men of my class."
The stenographer sat biting the end of her pencil
and Abner, lost in thought, induced by the problem of
what to do with this young rebel, pen in hand, sat mark
ing his blotter with long strokes.
"Mr. Holdon to see you, sir," a clerk at the door an
nounced.
And Mr. Abner relieved for the moment of an awk
ward burden, responded with alacrity, "Tell him to
come in."
"And me?" Moses queried as Mr. Holdon entered.
"Oh, I ll attend to that later," the employer answered,
his tone implying that the matter referred to was tri
vial.
For the remainder of the day Moses worked but lit
tle. He sat dreaming of a hunt for work, always end
ing in refusal because he had dared to be a man in the
presence of one who had insulted him, and wondered
how he would break the news to the little wife. Then,
too, he wondered when Abner would send for him, or if
he did not, how he would be disposed of, who would act
as headsman?
That night he entered his modest little home weight
ed with a thousand cares that grew as he dwelt upon
them.
"Oh, Moses, I have such good news ! Why, what s
the matter, are you sick dear?" The exclamation and
question came in a breath as the wife lifted her face for
a kiss.
"If your good news will offset my bad news," the
husband began
"Offset your bad news? Why, nothing in the world
can be bad enough to weigh a feather."
/{ /| /| MILLS OF MAMMON
"Don t be too sure," he smiled in spite of himself, as
he looked into her radiant face.
"Too sure; why, Moses, I know. Haven t I got the
letter ? You know how badly I have wanted to get out
of this dirty city for the children s sake?"
"Yes, dear, I know."
"Don t frown so ; you do nothing else when you come
from work lately, nothing else."
"Don t I love you and let the kids use me for a rid
ing horse?" he demanded, taking her in his arms.
"Oh, yes but you don t listen to my news," she
pouted. "And it is almost too good to be true."
"I m listening."
"Well, it took you a long time. You know how
much I love Mother Webster? Well, they, she and
father, have written that they want to quit the farm and
move into that new town near them, and father wants
you to take charge of the farm." Moses whistled. "But
that s not the best news ; you know they always said you
should have the property some day? Well, mother
writes that they have decided that this is no place for
the children, and you know I never complained to her,
and to induce you to go to them they are going to give
us the farm now."
"Wait a minute, mother," the astonished husband
protested. This being lifted out of poverty in a city
and a jobless poverty at that, was too enervating; it
was of the species of joy that kills. "Wait a minute,
mother," he protested, "I I-
"Moses, you are crying, what in the world-
He drew her closer to him and allowed his tears to
fall unchecked. Back across the years, memory carried
him to that night, that one night in his life that would
ever stand out distinct from all other nights. He saw
a sweet- faced mother, whose only babe had been taken
from her, gather a poor, half-crazed little wanderer to
her bosom ; and from that day to the hour when he had
gone out of her home into the great world she had been
his rock in time of need. And here, at another crucial
moment in his life, her hand and that of her jovial, big-
hearted husband, were held out to him, to his.
Do you wonder that the flood gates opened?
CHAPTER XXL
THE PLOTTERS MEET.
"You are at least punctual in keeping your engage
ment," Hoi don eyed the roll of papers and parcel Price
deposited on the table, then continued. "I suppose you
are prepared to meet my demand for the return of the
money you appropriated during my absence?"
Price stood beside a chair he had drawn up alongside
the one occupied by his employer.
"First, allow me to suggest that we settle the ques
tion of the existence or non-existence of the Harris ma
chine," he advised, as he sat down.
"Oh, that s settled, I had Robinson on the phone,"
Holdon answered. "I am more interested in that money
than in anything else just at present."
"And I insist that we will be able to settle that little
point more amicably when you have my report, and see
the figure this machine deal has set me back," the other
persisted.
"Well, have it your way now ; but I warn you, there
isn t anything you can say will prevent me having that
money out of " he ceased speaking and got to his
feet
"What was that?" he demanded, searching the room
from end to end with his eyes, his hands spread out upon
the table before him. "What was that?" he repeated,
while Price looked up quizzically to ask: "What was
what?"
"Why, I d swear I heard some one moving in this
room."
Price smiled and untied the papers, while Holdon
went through the rooms in a vain search for that some
one. When he returned to the table, Price, without com
ment upon the interruption, plunged into the case in
hand. Step by step, he knit about his vis-a-vis the web
in which he hoped to hold him. From the beginning,
445
446 MILLS OF MAMMON
he laid great stress upon the fact that he had been deputed
to get possession of the confidence of Harris, then secure
the machine or the plans for it. Next, he took up his
relations with Robinson and recounted the various steps
he had taken to insure the building of the two machines.
When he had finished, he said :
" In view of the fact that I have succeeded in getting
this machine Robinson is finishing in shape for what can
not fail to be a successful test, and have the model so
far along that it can be finished within the week, don t
you think I had a right to draw sufficient funds to meet
any emergency that might arise, without calling you into
the case, and in event of a show-down, exposing you
Never mind that Price," Holdon interrupted. "Just
pass those figures over; I want to see how much you
have set over against this job."
"The figure is stiff enough," he commented, after
carefully scrutinizing the statement Price had prepared.
"But it don t commence to cover the twenty-odd thou
sand you took."
"No, it don t; but I have not finished the job. Be
sides, it seems to me that the man who is competent to
handle so delicate a piece of business is entitled to some
thing more than wages."
"And you call this a delicate job ?" Holdon exclaimed
in disgust. " Why, man, a fool could have robbed Harris
of his eyes. Delicate nothing ! It was boy s play !"
"It may seem so to you, who had no part in working
it out, but, if you think it s boy s play to act the part of
a thief and skulk through alleys and back streets well,
I only wish you might have a chance "
"Tut, tut, Price, let s not become hysterical. You
have no need to convince me of your histrionic abilities,
since that little check scene enacted right in this room."
"I am not hysterical, however, when I insist that in
view of the work I have done for you on this job, your
little histrionic stunt at the conference the other day
was a gross insult," Price retorted.
Holdon stared at his guest a moment, then blurted
out: "Just drop that tone, my man. You are not sure
enough of your footing to get farther from the ground."
"I want to stick to the ground," Price insisted. "Right
THE PLOTTERS MEET 447
to the ground. And as for my footing, leave that to me."
Glaring at each other, Holdon first found words to
express his feelings.
"You contemptible liar," he hissed. "You want to
keep your feet on the ground, do you? Well, be careful
how you move, or you ll swing high enough from the
ground."
"Will I?" Price questioned, his face contorted by the
play of passions long pent up. "Will I? Well, it won t
be because your virtuous self has any part in the swing
ing; and, what s more, I tell you flat you either come to
terms "
"Come to terms! Come to terms! You scum!"
Holdon struck at the man beside him, biting his lips and
puffing like a winded bull the while. Price dodged and
pulling his chair farther away, turned a set, white face
to his antagonist.
"You had best keep your temper, Holdon," his voice
was low, "because I ve something to say to you that
may try it a bit a bit more," he corrected.
Holdon still biting his lips, sat humped over, as
though prepared to spring at his agent.
"You have called me a thief," Price began, intently
watching his neighbor. "A thief, and I want to tell you
why I took some twenty thousand dollars of your money.
You hired me to rob Harris, and I hadn t been in the
game long until I made up my mind that you would
rob me if you got a chance. That being the case, I pro
posed to put myself in a position where I could force
you into a gentleman s agreement to keep your hands off
me. I have brought all the plans for both the Harris
and Robinson machines with me to-night. I also have
the Harris formula and the compound as he made it
up. I also have two letters you wrote me from Kansas
City you "
"You devil ! Didn t you destroy those letters ?"
It was not a belligerent man, but a suppliant who
asked the question, and Price did not misunderstand in
the slightest degree what the changed tone implied,
"I should say I did not destroy them," he boasted.
"And you have them with you ?" Holdon asked, wet
ting his lips with his tongue.
"Not me, they re in a box behind a good lock."
44^ MILLS OF MAMMON
"What do you propose "
"Yes, I, too, would like to know just what he pro
poses."
Both men turned on the instant and started to leave
their chairs when the same voice, calm, cool, and des
perately deliberate, said:
"Gentlemen, you will please be seated again and put
your hands on the table; that s right now, the first
one of you to lift a hand will beat the other one to hell
by about three seconds." The speaker paused.
Holdon and Price, from staring open-mouthed at the
disheveled, stern-faced man, with a revolver in each
hand, looked at each other, and each read a plea in the
other s eyes for deliverance, and a promise of co-opera
tion as well, were it possible to pass intelligence under
those two tubes of steel.
"You two," the intruder began slowly, "will not need
to agree as to the division of the spoils. You have rob
bed and been robbed for the last time but one on this
earth, and I propose to finish the work."
Again the two shot a furtive glance at each other.
Holdon had huddled down in his chair while Price had
leaned back with only his fingers on the table.
"I hope to God Price has a gun," Holdon thought,
as he noted the position of his companion. If Charley
Harris noted Price s drawing back from the table, he
paid no heed.
"You, Mr. Holdon," the revolver in his left hand
moved downward until it pointed at Holdon s third vest
button, "are a more contemptible hound than this dog
over here straighten up, Price your only hope of life
lies in keeping your hands on the table."
Price brought his chair down with a thump and
thrust his hands well out on the table.
"That s better," the same cool voice went on. "Now,
Mr. Holdon, I was saying I consider you a more con
temptible hound than this sneak thief over here. You
took me into your foundry under a promise to help me
perfect my machine. I laid my whole heart open before
you ; told you just what I wanted to do with the money
my invention would bring me, how I wanted to make
my father and mother happy and care free; all of this,
I told you, and you smiled and promised to help me.
IB first one of you to lift a hand will beat the other one to hell by about
three seconds." Paj?e 448.
THE PLOTTERS MEET 449
I went to work and within three days you had hired a
detective to worm his way into my confidence, and when
his report satisfied you that I really could build a suc
cessful moulding machine, you hired this whelp over
here to rob me."
Harris paused and looked intently at Price, who had
moved back once more until his fingers alone were on
the table. He moved forward again before Harris
deigned to proceed.
"But, Mr. Holdon," he went on with a short laugh,
"there was a part of the story he failed to tell you.
From the first, Price decided to rob both of us, and
very nearly overreached himself. He told me he was
building a machine and described mine so closely, thanks
to your detective s ability to pump a boy from the coun
try, that I quit your plant, and for months Price used
your money and the detective, Martin, to hunt me.
When he found me, he had a new story. His machine
had proven a failure, and you insisted upon taking up
my machine. I was to have one hundred dollars per
month while building it, and a half interest in the patents
when it was finished."
Holdon looked at Price, moistened his lips and asked :
"What do you want, Harris?"
"I don t want anything either of you have to give."
"I ll sign everything over to you, Harris, everything,
and give you an agreement to buy the machine."
"No you won t. If you did, you d hire another thief
to rob me to-morrow."
Price had his fingers back on the edge of the table
again, and as Harris was attending to what Holdon
was saying, he thrust himself back a little farther, and,
as their captor s vehemence while answering Holdon
caused him to be less watchful, Price slipped his hands
from the table, kicked his chair over and ducked to
the floor. Once under cover of the table, it took him
but a moment to draw his revolver. With the disappear
ance of Price, stillness fell upon the group. As Holdon
looked up into Harris eyes, he shuddered. The man
was mad and unless Price had a gun
"You might as well come out, Price," Harris voice
broke the silence, "I m going to kill you, and unless you
are praying, you re wasting time, and you, too, Holdon.
45 MILLS OF MAMMON
If you have any idea an honest God would listen to a
dog like you, I d advise you to pray."
"You don t intend to kill me, Harris?" He s mad,
the magnate thought, even as he spoke. "You can handle
madmen if you humor them." At that moment, he felt a
pinch on his leg, and a hoarse whisper.
Tush back and duck like I did; I ve got my gun."
"No use, Price," Harris answered. "You re a fool
as well as a knave. I could kill you just as easily now
as I could "
With an oath, Price pushed Holdon s chair back, and
as the latter threw up his hands to save himself from
falling and thus drew Harris fire, Price got to his feet,
but before he could level his gun, Harris had pulled on
him with both guns. The ex-superintendent pitched for
ward upon the table, his revolver discharging in the air,
then slid to the floor. His revolver fell upon a heap of
papers upon the table. Holdon lay with his feet en
tangled among the rounds of the chair he had sat in
but a moment before. The soft lights that had looked
down upon the starting of so many successful ventures
by this captain of industry lighted up a face made re
pulsive by the hand of fear that had written its telltale
markings over all others his countenance had worn in
life.
Harris for a time stood with the barrel of one re
volver resting upon the table, the other pointed at the
body of Price.
"So you are dead, are you, Price? And you, too,
over there with your foot in the air. Well, I said I
would; I told God I d do it if He let me live until to
night, and it s over with."
A sigh of infinite sadness drawn from his tortured
soul, escaped. His eyes fell upon the revolver that had
fallen from Price s nerveless fingers.
"I wonder if it is loaded? If it is, why didn t he
try to "
He threw the barrel down and the loaded shells were
thrown out. While picking them up mechanically, his
mind began to shape a way out of the present situa
tion. When he entered the suite that night through the
secret passage Price had disclosed to him and for which
he had furnished the keys he had but one thought
THE PLOTTERS MEET 451
to kill those two men, then end his own life, and let the
world judge when it had read the statement he had writ
ten and placed in his pocket. As he stood by the
table, he had no thought of flight until in picking up
Price s revolver, he had noticed that it was the same
caliber as those he had used. Once the possibility of
escape dawned upon him, he took up his guns and in
feverish haste broke them, extracted the used shells, and
thrusting them into Price s revolver, he threw it beside
the huddled form on the floor. Hastily gathering the pa
pers from the table, he ran to the grate and thrust them
in, and as they burned, he extracted from the pockets of
both men, all the papers he could discover, and fed the
flames with them, and without a glance in the direction
of the men upon wham he had taken vengeance, he
walked out of the suite, out through that unused office
in the next building, down two flights of stairs and was
lost in the crowds upon the street.
As he went down the first flight of steps, after leaving
the dark office, a woman, hearing him coming, crouched
in a dark corner on the landing below and waited there
until she was sure he had reached the street.
CHAPTER XXII.
OUT INTO THE NIGHT.
Out into the night, Charley Harris sped from the
scene of his vengeance a vengeance but half complete.
He had burned the plans from which both his and Rob
inson s machines had been built, but the machines still
existed, and these, too, must be destroyed before his
work was completed.
As he crossed the river on his way to Robinson s
shop, lie dropped the moulding compound into the river,
muttering: "Much good any machine will do them
without that," and hurried on.
An hour later as he crossed the north branch of the
river and turned south to catch a Madison street car
west, he heard the clanging of fire gongs and halted as
the fire fighters lashed their horses along the way he
had just covered.
"They won t save it," he told himself. "They won t
save it I fixed it too well for that."
He jumped from the car a few blocks below his
home and hurried on. His only fear was that Mickey
might be there waiting for him. "What would he do
if the cripple was there?" The blood madness upon
him, he drew one of his revolvers, as he opened the
door, and stealthily entered. With the revolver still in
hand, he went into the room Mickey had occupied, but
the cripple was not there. With a laugh of triumph
he thrust the revolver into his pocket and went to search
for every scrap of drawing and bit of the machine that
might be among his effects. Picking up the first cast
ing from the machine built in Holcomb s barn, he kissed
and hugged it.
You are to be broken into a thousand bits, my
beauty," he murmured. "Yes, broken like they have
broken me, and then the fire will turn you a beautiful
red and you ll melt, melt, melt, and drop into hell, a
452
OUT INTO THE NIGHT 453
drop at a time, and fasten upon the souls of the men I
sent there tonight."
Tenderly he wrapped the casting in its covering, and
gathering the bundle he had prepared, hurried out into
the night once more.
That morning three fires were reported, two of which
we can account for. Robinson, seen by a reporter for
an afternoon paper, gave the following statement:
My machine shop was burned by some one who desired to
prevent the completion of an automatic moulding machine I
was building. Yes, I was interested in the machine, but I
am not at liberty at this time to give out the names of the
other parties interested with me. I know it was deliberately
burned. Since it has cooled off, I have been investigating
and have found that the machine I mentioned was first
broken up with a heavy sledge. Two men are ready to swear
they heard some one using a sledge, but as machine shops
often work night shifts they thought nothing of it. Who
ever did it was either a machinist, or knew enough to turn
on the lights and start some of the machinery, in order to
give the appearance of regularity to his infamous work. No,
I have not reported it to the other parties. I rather expected
to hear from them before this; anyway, I don t want to do
anything until I see them; they are prominent and will cer
tainly push the investigation.
In the ruins of the second fire there might have been
seen a pile of bent and battered iron and brass lying
about midway of the broken walls. To the casual ob
server, this pile of iron would not stir the imagination,
but could this unmoved observer have looked upon the
same metal yesterday as it stood the concrete expression
of genius wedded to more than living labor, the contrast
would have been enough to stir the slowest blooded on
looker.
The owner of the building did not learn of the de
struction of his property until notified by the insurance
agency.
"I know but little of the man who rented from me.
He was an inventor and seemed well-to-do. I visited
the shop several times to collect rent and always found
him busy. He gave me to understand that he was be
ing backed by a wealthy man here in the city. No, I
haven t seen him to-day ; and the only reason I can ad
vance for his not putting in an appearance is that he
may have been out of the city last night and has not
454 MILLS OF MAMMON
yet returned." The owner and the reporter turned away
from the smoking ruins.
A little before six o clock that morning a man whose
hands and face were smirched with oil, rust, and iron
dust entered a boarding house in a manufacturing
suburb of the great city.
"Can I get breakfast and a bed?" he inquired.
"Sure thing; working nights?" the proprietor asked,
interested in the possibilities of securing a new boarder.
"No." The man turned a pair of heavy lidded eyes
upon his questioner.
"Well, you look as though you worked last night,"
the landlord observed casually.
"Yes, last night I worked." The newcomer laughed,
as he took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves prepara
tory to washing. "But I don t do it as a rule. There
was a piece of work that had to be done last night and
I was sent out."
"What plant?"
The man at the wash bowl looked up quickly. "Oh,
not here; it was up at Franklin Park. When I got
through, they told me I could get a car home from here,
but when I hoofed it in here, I made up my mind to
rest up until to-night."
"Oh, that s it; well I guess you .earned a rest all
right if you walked down from the Park," the landlord
observed and gave his mind to other things.
That evening shortly after supper, the man who had
fixed things at the Park, handed the landlord a silver
dollar and with a short good-toy, left the house and drop
ped out of the world that had known him as a boy and
man.
When John Smith shook hands with you yesterday,
you did not know that he once answered to the name
of Clarence Jennings, now did you? When that banker
died in Cincinnati a few months ago and it was discov
ered that he had at one time in his adventurous life
faced a vigilance committee in a western state, and that
it had taken three names and fifty years to make him a
pillar in the financial world, were you much shocked?
In Mammon s mills men change their names to fit
their needs. And we have come to look upon such ex
posures as of little moment. To say that men change
OUT INTO THE NIGHT 455
their personality, their methods and their ambitions
when they change names, might invite a heated argu
ment; but I shall insist that some men have changed
all of this when they took a new name and went forth
into new environments. This I shall insist happened to
Charley Harris, when he quitted the boarding house on
the outskirts of Chicago and plunged into the darkness
of a night that shall hide him from you and all who have
known him, until such time as the iron hand of fate
shall fall upon his shoulder and the voice of doom shall
say, "Thou art the man."
CHAPTER XXIII.
FLY BOYO S SUDDEN DEPARTURE.
When Charley Harris footfalls ceased to sound in
the dark halls of the building adjoining "Shifty"
Smith s palace, the woman who had crouched in the
darkest corner of the second floor landing stepped out
and hastily climbed the next flight. Making her way
to the door through which Holdon s suite was reached,
she groped for the button the owner had had cunningly
hidden in the side of the casing for the use of such as
she. Time and again, she pressed the button.
"I wonder has he forgotten?" she whispered, and
again tried the button.
Growing impatient, she tried the door and finding
it yielded to her touch, entered the room and went on to
the door leading into the Holdon suite. This door was
not locked, so boldly and with something of resentment
against the man whom she mentally accused of having
left those doors open for her in order that he might not
be disturbed, Fly Boyd entered and hesitated but a
moment before going to the sitting room. As she paus
ed at the doorway, she sniffed the powder laden air,
then glanced at the grate in which the last flickering
flames were issuing from a heap of twisted sheets of
paper ash. From where she stood, neither of the bodies
were in sight. Yet, into her very bones, there crept the
chill of horror. Standing thus in the doorway, she
searched out the far corners of the room and question
ing the silence, the mystery of it all, was about to flee,
when a memory of the man she had heard upon the
stairs returned, and gave her courage to investigate.
Stepping into the room, the floor on the opposite side
of the long table came into view.
"My God, what is this?" she cried, as staggering to
the table, she caught at it for support, her eyes fastened
456
FLY BOYO S SUDDEN DEPARTURE 457
upon the body of Holdon lying with the soft light beat
ing into its staring eyes.
"He is dead! Dead! Dead! That man murdered
him," she whispered, and began edging along the table
to be farther from the body, and in doing so, her eyes
fell upon the huddled form of Price lying close up to
the table.
The woman drew back and clasping her hands to
her head began to cry. For a little while, she walked
back and forth near the doorway through which she
had entered, uncertain what to do, whether to go away
quietly and allow some one else to discover the tragedy,
and thus escape notoriety, or to give the alarm to the
police. From thinking of the notoriety that would come
to her, and worse, if she should be discovered there, her
mind carried her to the conversation she had had with
Mamie. Standing where she could see both bodies,
she looked long at them, her face hardening, her hands
clinched at her sides.
"Why not, if he s dead, and through with it all, I
might just as well." She paused. "Is he dead?" To
determine this, it became necessary for her to examine
the body. Slowly edging her way around the table,
she fell upon her knees beside the body of her lover.
"Yes, he s dead," she whispered. "Dead, and I am
a widow." Getting to her feet, she ran from the suite,
locking the doors behind her.
******
"Mamie, Mamie, for God s sake, wake up!"
Fly Boyd stood over her maid s bed, shaking the
girl as though her very life depended upon her being
awakened instantly. Mamie, awakened, sat bolt up
right, rubbing her eyes.
"Why, Flo what in the world is the house on
fire?" she questioned.
"No, but the world s turned over since you went to
sleep," the mistress began and hurried on: "Holdon
has been murdered and another man with him."
"Murdered?" Mamie s eyes were wide. "Murder
ed? Flo, you didn t "
"No, I didn t, you goose. But get up. We re going
to pack up and get away just the same."
The girl looked questioningly at her mistress and
45^ MILLS OF MAMMON
noting the flushed face and nervous twitching lips, was
tiut half satisfied.
"You can tell me the truth, Flo," she insisted. "If
you killed him, I know you must have had cause."
At that, Fly sat on the bed and gave the maid a
brief outline of the evening s adventure, concluding:
"I don t know what put it into my head, but, from
thinking of what we had talked over about that Michi
gan marriage, I got to thinking of Mickey and his baby ;
and the thought struck me that Holdon would be as
good a name for the baby as any other, besides, I d be
doing Mickey a good turn and have my fingers on two
shares of the Holdon estate."
Mamie, standing at the dresser, turned to stare at
the woman sitting upon the edge of the bed.
"What is the matter, Mamie? You don t seem able
to grasp the situation."
"I don t grasp the part our baby s got to play,"
Mamie protested, "though I do see where you can hold
up the Holdon heirs for a million. Lord, Flo, you must
have been born under a lucky star. Just tfiink how
they ll come across."
"And the baby will cinch it. Why, Mamie, can t
you see how much stronger it makes my case?" The
girl shook her head. "Well, it does. See here you ve
got letters from me written from different places in
Europe. I ve got the same pen and the same ink I
wrote them with. You hunt them up and I ll just drop
in a line in each of them, telling about the baby. Let s
see, it s about three months; that would bring it about
right. Why, Mamie, I can write you how I left babe
with the nurse, and went to So-and-So s. There s dead
loads of people over there who will swear to anything
for a hundred dollars. I can tell you how sorry Mr.
Holdon was that he had to go home without us. I
Scan -"
"But you have forgotten Mickey. What s he going
to say to all of this ?"
"Yes, that s the one question; what will Mickey say?
Say, Mamie, can you find him at this time of night?"
the mistress asked.
"Why, it s past midnight, but I know where he was
FLY BOYD S SUDDEN DEPARTURE 459
going to stay to-night. Yes, I can get him if I don t
get pinched."
"When you get pinched, shove some of this at the
bull. He ll forget his duty long enough to take the bill
to the light." Fly pressed some bills into the girl s
hands and with a parting word to her to hurry, sat
down to plan her work with Mickey. So absorbing was
the theme her mind played with that she was startled
when Mamie and Mickey entered her room.
"What s th matter with th kid?" the visitor de
manded. "She," pointing a thumb over his shoulder
at Mamie, "is either walkin in her sleep or somethin ,
she wouldn t say nothin , only youse come erlong. Say,
is th kid sick?"
"No, Mickey, baby s asleep. I I sent for you to
tell you I d adopt the baby/
"Gee whiz ! is that so ? Say, youse kin git me up in
th middle of th night any old time."
"But, there s a condition, Mickey, that you may not
care to agree to."
Fly, pale and trembling, hesitated to throw the last
card in her hand into the scale. Mickey stood before
her, his every faculty awake, and noting the woman s
hesitancy, he hurriedly replied.
"They ain t no conditions I won t agree to t see
that kid fixed fer life."
"Are you sure?" the woman asked.
"Absolute," came the answer.
"Then you promise to forget anything I ask you to
forget about the baby, to remember anything I want you
to remember?"
"Say, quit kiddin me. Ain t I told youse I d do
anythin fer th kid er its mother?" he added softly.
Fly scrutinized him so closely that he became rest
less.
"Say, what sort oi a lay-out is this, hey? I ain t
used to bein got up in th middle of th night jist fer
ladies to set an make eyes at me." He shifted from
one foot to the other.
"Mickey, I don t know how to tell you the story so
you will understand it, and unless you do and will agree
to help me, why, I can t adopt the baby."
"Well, fer God s sake; what s the use ov me sayin
460 MILLS OF MAMMON
it agin? Ain t I sed fire away; I m yours truly?"
"Yes, I know, but there are so many " she paused.
"Say, Mickey, you know the baby s got to have a name."
As he nodded, she went on hurriedly: "There s only
one name I could give her, and that s Holdon."
The cripple jumped as though shot.
"Who ever put youse next," he quavered.
"No one put me next to anything, only if I adopt
her, she s to be called Estella Marie Holdon."
Mickey sat down limp as a rag. Finally he looked
U ?V
"Fly Boyd, are you th devil, or am I dreamin ?" he
demanded soberly.
"Neither, Mickey ; we were discussing a pretty name
for our baby."
"An youse don t know nothin bout th kid ceptin
what I told youse?"
"No; how could I?" she questioned, puzzled at the
change which had come over her visitor.
"An youse, with nobody tellin youse nuthin bout
th kid cept wha/t I tells, wants t call it Steller Holdon ?"
His eyes big with wonder at it all, he stood clasping and
unclasping his ,hands.
"Yes, Estella Marie Holdon."
"Then they is a God!" he exclaimed. "They is a
God, an I won t "
"What in the world has my naming the baby got to
do with God?"
"Heaps ! heaps !" he answered. "Jist go ahead an*
call her that an I ll swear it s her name, an I ought
t know, I ought t know !" His voice sank to a whis
per as he put a hand on Fly s arm and nodded his ap
proval.
The woman before him, relieved of her fear, plung
ed into the story of what she had seen in Holdon s
suite. Only once was she interrupted.
"I knows who let th daylight into them devils,
an I seen youse go up them stairs an shadowed th
joint till th man as done fer them come down but I
lost him," oame from Mickey, but that was all, and
the woman could not induce him to say another word.
It was four o clock when Mickey left the house with
instructions to secure a ticket for New York and take the
FLY BOYD S SUDDEN DEPARTURE 461
first train. He had agreed readily enough when Fly
laid her plans before him. Mamie was to go to a woman
whom Fly had befriended many times and giving the
baby into her care send them to New York by a round
about way, that morning, if possible. In the afternoon,
Fly was to start for the same city. Arrived there,
they were to take up quarters in a good hotel and
await news from Chicago.
Mickey turned at the door. "I don t know as I kin
go," he began in a hesitating voice. "Youse see, if th
man I thinks done fer them skunks last night, I ought
t stay an try t help him >he don t know no more n a
rabbit bout th mertropolis, an is jist as like as anything
t run right into a bull th first thing. I guess "
"But the baby, Mickey? We must get this business
fixed."
"Yep, I guess youse is right, an after this here night,
Fly Boyd," he paused with lifted hand, "I ain t never
goin t say a word against God ; I had some doubts which
was nacheral, seein as how I bin bumped, but I m all
right now."
When he was gone and Mamie had started on her
mission, Fly Boyd sat down to ponder over the [conduct
of Mickey.
"I wonder will I ever learn what it is behind -this
baby s coming into the world that he guards so closely?
What did he mean anyway?" she asked, then gave her
mind to the part she had set herself to play.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE HUE AND CRY.
Holdon never permitted the keys to his suite above
"Shifty" Smith s palace to remain in the hands of a
janitor or care-taker. When he was in town, the woman
who took care of the suite was summoned by phone and
the owner remained in the apartments until they were
in order, or if it was inconvenient for him to be present,
his agent, Price, had to oversee the work. Price was
well content with this arrangement, as it gave him un
disturbed possession of the suite whenever Holdon was
out of the city.
When Price had finally secured possession of Harris,
he had planned to have the latter do all his drafting in
this suite in order that he might have access to the work
when Harris was at the shop. With this in view, he
had shown Harris the secret entrance and supplied him
with keys. Later, when Harris insisted that he could
work on his drawings to better advantage in the quiet
of his own rooms, or at the shop, Price had not asked
that he return the keys, either because he feared to anger
the mechanic or because he was too much occupied with
his schemes to give thought to so small an item.
The third day of her father s absence came and with
it brought a great fear to Beatrice and her aunt. Never
before had the father left the city without telling the
family when and where he was going.
Til call up Mr. Price. He will know. I m sorry I
did not do it yesterday."
"Or the night before, when your father did not come
home," the aunt added.
Central reported that Mr. Price could not be gotten
on the wire and was asked to ring again. Finally the
girl gave up.
"Aunt, you don t suppose they have got track of Joel
and were so excited they forgot to tell us when they
left?"
462
THE HUE AND CRY 463
"Oh, dear, don t ask me what a man does or why he
does it. When you are as old as I you will have learned
that it isn t the women who will, and do as they will,
and that s the end of it it s these men."
"But that doesn t help me now, really," the girl pro
tested. "I am anxious oh, I know what I ll do I ll
call up Martin."
"Yes, Mr. Martin. What is that? Not for three
days? Price yes, this is Miss Holdon. Wait a min
ute. What plans did father discuss with me? The last
things he said? That he would go to the Art Institute
with me yesterday afternoon. Not a word about leaving
town? No, nothing about Joel. He would have told
me."
The detective hung up the receiver and scowled at
his reflection in the mirror. "Not like Holdon at all,"
he informed the reflection. "Now, I wonder if he s got
somebody else on the trail of that good-for-nothing
scamp, and they ve put up a strong con talk and carried
him off on a wild goose chase. Well," he concluded,
"I m under instructions from the house to hunt him up,
so here goes."
Price s rooms were visited. The janitor and care
taker both insisted that the lodger had not been home
for three days. Had he left the city? Would they open
his apartments? There was fear of foul play. This
suggestion added solely for effect. The apartments were
opened and proved beyond a doubt that the lodger had
not purposed going out of the city when he left them.
Next Martin visited Holdon s attorneys. Fanchett,
the senior member of the firm, was all attention in an
instant.
"Did you see the report of the fire on the North
Side?" he asked, hastily taking down a file of papers.
"No, what fire ?" the detective inquired ; then added.
"I don t get the connection."
"Then read that. Of course, it is understood that
what I tell you is confidential, and when you have found
Holdon my name is not to be used."
"Why, that goes without saying," Martin replied,
promptly. "You are his attorney, I am his detective, and
if the truth was out, I suspect we would both discover
464 MILLS OF MAMMON
that some things we each think is known to no one else,
is known as well by the other."
The lawyer smiled and handed over the paper. Mar
tin read the interview Robinson had given.
"Say, this doesn t look good," he announced.
"Why?" Fanchett asked.
"Because I know a story, but this is no time to teli
it. The thing I ve got to do is to find Holdon."
"Have you inquired at the Eagle?"
"Yes, but there s one place I have not visited/
"On Monroe street?"
The detective nodded.
"Then it s the next place to visit," Fanchett advised,
and added: "I will call up a couple of men who weit
with him that afternoon. Oh, by the way, do you know
a certain woman on Michigan avenue?"
"Yes, I know her but she s not in town."
"Well, if there isn t anything doing on Monrot
street, go to her place, it s your next best lead."
A look of comprehension passed, and Martin said
at parting: "If it isn t asking too much, would you
mind staying here where I can get you on the wire, say
for an hour?"
A half hour lated Fanchett was called to the phone.
An agitated voice at the other end said:
"Go down to the Eagle go as fast as you can. I m
at Shifty Smith s I ve got to see you, and for God s
sake hurry."
Fanchett ran out of the office, hailed a cab and hur
ried to the Eagle club.
What did that urgent message mean? Was it death
he heard in the detective s strained voice? That wom
an. How often he had pleaded with his client to quit
her, even if it cost him half his fortune to do it quietly
Martin met him at the entrance and without a wora.
hurried him upstairs.
"Well," the lawyer sat down.
"Hell," the detective fairly threw the word from
him.
"Out with it."
"Then it s murder and suicide."
"Not the woman !"
"No, no woman ; Price killed him."
THE HUE AND CRY 465
"My God, man, not Price, his agent?"
"Yes, Price. Mr. Fanchett, I stayed there long
enough to make up my mind God, I shall never forget
it. They have been there dead in that warm room three
days at least."
The lawyer got up. "Martin, you say Price killed
him; you infer that he then took his own life?"
"I would swear to it ; the doors were locked ; the two
had been discussing the machine ; I found evidence of
that, the one Robinson says was broken up before his
shop was fired."
"But, Martin, we must act now, at once. But how?
How? Let me think."
"That s what I wanted you for. I locked the doors
and left things just as I found them." He shuddered.
"You were right, Martin. Now, you will go and
tell the chief, then phone to Black s. Ask the chief to
send two good men with you and tell him we mention
our firm, Martin tell him we don t want the papers to
get at this until we have had time to prepare a state
ment. Tell Black s to send a trusted man to our office
at once ; make it strong, Martin. Then you and the two
men go in at the back and T will phone you when we
will arrive. I I must see this thing, though God knows
I would rather see anything else in the world. But I must
see it. I can t believe Price killed him. He was too
much of a coward. We need to go slow, Martin; God
alone knows what complications may arise out of this
this double murder."
Two hours later Fanchett s office was besieged by a
dozen hungry newspaper men. Fanchett had assured the
first to scent out the tragedy, that a statement would be
given the press at 3 130 p. m., and with this the repre
sentatives of the near-decent papers had to be satisfied.
Those who represented the unscrupulous, scare-head
hunters had rushed into print with half pages given to
blood curdling stories, alleging for cause the full gamut
of crime, from gaming to women.
Inside, Martin, the chief of police and the three mem
bers of the firm had been struggling to get a statement
in shape for the press. Fanchett alone, of those who had
examined the bodies and their immediate surroundings,
held out against accepting the murder and suicide
466 MILLS OF MAMMON
theory. The time was almost up, nothing had been
settled. A clerk tip-toed into the room.
"Judge Terwill wants a word with you gentlemen;
he says he can give you some light."
"Tell him to come in," Fanchett ordered, and added :
"We ve got to let that pack in pretty soon."
The judge, haggard and depressed, told the story of
the meeting at which Holdon had publicly insulted his
agent, and stated further that a porter at the Eagle had
heard Holdon tell Price over the phone that he expected
him, Price, to meet him at his apartments and settle up
something or other. When the judge had finished, Fan
chett surrendered, and the other members of the firm
voted that he should make the statement for the press.
Martin left the office after the last reporter had been
satisfied, himself dissatisfied with the evidence he had
but a short while ago accepted as final.
******
In the palatial home of the Holdon family there was
greater grief locked in the heart of one woman that
night than she had ever thought it possible to bear.
"Oh, aunt," she sobbed, "only to think that he was
murdered in a quarrel over money over money, when
we had so much of it."
"Much or little, it s all the same," Aunt Nell replied,
philosophically. "Men and women never get enough so
that they won t quarrel over the next dollar they see."
"But think think of him lying there three days,
and we did not think enough of him "
"Beatrice, why should you say that? You know we
worried from the first, but we thought some business had
called him away; be just to yourself. You will need to
be strong and you are not going to help matters by ex
aggerating either side, his or yours."
"I know, I know, auntie, but what am I to do? They
are not going to bring father home until to-morrow and
I cannot live through this night. I cannot, I can
not!"
"There, there, dear, cry, cry hard. Do anything, but
try to think. If you could have your Socialist stoic with
you now, he might help you."
This last was thrown out by Aunt Nell in the hope
that Beatrice would resent it, and great was that lady s
THE HUE AND CRY 467
astonishment when the girl threw her arms about her
neck and cried:
"I do want him I do, I do. Won t you send for
him ; tell him I am in trouble."
"Beatrice!" the aunt exclaimed in horror. "What
would your friends thing of such a thing, of all "
"I don t care; I want to talk to him if only for a
minute."
"I won t "
"But, you suggested it," the girl protested; "and if
you don t send for him, I ll go "
"Gracious heavens, child, have you there, there, I ll
send Honore over."
"Send Honore up to my room. I m going up now."
The girl tottered from the room and left a much per
plexed aunt staring after her.
When Bulman received the note Beatrice had given
Honore for him, he was sitting on his doorstep reading a
third edition, alleging additional and startling informa
tion relative to the "Holdon Murder," this additional in
formation consisted of an interview from Mr. Abner
of the Holdon Company, relating his suspicions as to the
cause of the murder.
"Hurry right back, Miss, and tell Miss Holdon I will
be over as soon as I can change clothes : I ve been tinker
ing around home, you know."
And over he went to be ushered into the great library
by as sour a visaged body as ever attempted to divide
her face between two expressions. Beatrice got to her
feet as John was ushered in, the aunt following.
"Mr. Bulman, this is kind," she began, and that in
stant found both her trembling hands clasped in the
hands of a wholesome man whose very person radiated
sympathy.
"Don t say a word, Miss Holdon, not a word! How
many times have you gone to Robert and others with
your sweet presence and cheered them when they
thought there was nothing left to life but death and
ashes?"
"Oh, I am so glad you came. I was so afraid you
would not." She looked past the man and seeing the
look of disgust on her aunt s face, said to that lady:
"Auntie, I want to talk to Mr. Bulman alone."
468 MILLS OF MAMM0N
Aunt Nell bowed, and with one swift glance at the
man, hurried from the room.
"You have you know that my father was killed in
a quarrel over money." The girl sank back into a chair,
and John, pulling another up facing her, answered:
"I know your father was murdered, but, Miss Hoi-
don, you must not allow your mind to dwell upon the
causes any one may assign as a reason for his death at
the hands of another man. You and I know he is dead.
And you know he was a good father. But, out in the
world there are a hundred men who will make money,
or hope to, by giving some sort of story to the press.
Then there are others who may attempt to get money
through attacking his honor "
"Oh, do you think so? Do you think they will?
Isn t this this enough?" she protested.
"Yes, more than enough, little woman, but it is apt to
be just as I have stated, and I am telling you this now,
at this hour, in order that your pride may arm you
against a weakness that might be fatal."
"Yes, and then?"
"And then," he replied, measuring his words, "your
father s memory, your memory of him, the things the
world is to believe of him, will depend upon your brav
ery, your ability to meet every issue fairly, and fight for
your father s good name against those who are to-day
making bread and butter out of the senseless lies they
mix with a bit of probability and feed a morbid public
through the columns of a filthy press."
"And you think I shall have to fight for my father s
good name?" There was nothing of tears, rather re
sentment in her voice as she went on. "Mr. Bulman, I
know you did not like "
"No, no, Miss Holdon," he protested, earnestly,
"don t, I pray you, don t think I carry my warfare be
yond the fair limits of an honest fight in the open. What
I am telling you is not necessarily based upon anything I
know or even suspect, but rather on the experience of
the families of other rich men who have died without
having had time to gather up the loose ends of their
many interests. You may, and I hope to God you will,
escape all of this, but if you value your father s honor
above the money, the property he had, and I know you
THE HUE AND CRY 469
do, then this is not a time for weeping; rather it is a
time for gathering all of your reserve force to meet and
master the problem this tragedy has brought into your
life."
"I I am glad and sorry you have told me this ; isn t
it enough for one day to learn this awful thing?" she
asked with a pathetic quiver in her voice, as she looked
into the worker s face.
"More than enough, more than enough, but, little
woman, the whole load is really lighter than any part of
it, and may be carried more easily to-day than to-mor
row; for if you give way to-day to the grief common
to all of us when death comes to ore we love, and to-mor
row some one attempts to put upon you another burden,
you will find that you are already spent, that you cannot
meet and conquer these things one at a time, as they
spring upon you out of the dark. I cannot bring com
fort to your sore heart, no one may do that, and the
things most people will say to comfort, you you will find
unbearable, weakening, enervating. The thing I want
to do for you is to make your pride arm you against
every outside influence, make you true to yourself, your
splendid womanhood, your clean heart, your best thought
of your father. If I can do this, you will not cry What
shall I do, what can I do? ; you will look life and "its
added responsibilities square between the eyes and fight
for " he hesitated.
"For my father s honor," she answered for him, and
added : "You have accomplished one thing I did not be
lieve possible of accomplishment. You have driven
weakness from me ; yes, and armed me." She sat silent
a moment watching him, then asked: "Do you believe
my father was dishonorable?"
Bulman met both her question and her narrowing
eyes fairly as he replied:
"What I may have believed of your father has been
swallowed up in the respect I have for his daughter,
and as your friend I have forgotten anything and every
thing I ever knew or thought or heard about him. The
only thing I know to-day in this relation is that prac
tically every rich man has hundreds of secret enemies,
that there are besides as many more professional black
mailers and parasites who are ready, for the sake of
47O MILLS OF MAMMON
profit, to suck honor out of a dead saint even though to
do it they are forced to paint their own souls as black as
the unlighted depths of hell. I know, too, that few men
of great wealth die without members of their own fam
ilies being found who gladly give aid and comfort to the
hell s pack who are turned loose to rend and tear the
mantle of honor the dead has left to the care of the
living. I know this, Miss Holdon, and while I hope you
may be spared, as a friend who has something of more
worth to offer than tears and the maudlin miscalled
sympathy of the friends one tries to shun in such hours
as these, I come to you and ask you to justify my high
est opinion of your womanhood, your courage, by being
brave. And to be brave is to let your soul weep for your
love while your heart stands at the door to your home
armed against a hungry, wolfishly hungry, world of
self-seekers."
When he had finished, Beatrice sat silently regarding
the flickering play of the gas flames in the grate. So
long she sat thus dry-eyed, with a hand upon either arm
of her chair, that Bulman arose. Thinking he had of
fended beyond pardon, he was cudgeling his brain for
some word to say before leaving, when she turned her
face, resolute, calm and purposeful, to him.
"I did you grievous wrong," she began, motioning
him to his seat, but he shook his head and stood cap in
hand. "A grievous wrong," she repeated, "and if I can,
I want to atone for it ; I have been thinking, and in the
few minutes I have sat here, a host of men and women
have gone in and out my mind. They each have had a
story. I never realized what each one of these stories
must have meant to the woman who sat as I sit to-day,
with death in her heart. I never thought how these
stories of crime, of secret marriage, of other lines of
social sin, of business dishonor must have wrung the
hearts of those who loved. I know now. I know and I
shall do my best to be worthy the confidence you place
in me."
"Mr. Fanchett, Miss Holdon," a muffled voice at the
doorway repeated the announcement, and John, taking
the girl s hand in his, said:
"I know you will be brave, and you know I will do
anything in my power to aid you."
THE HUE AND CRY 471
The lawyer came through the doorway as John left
the room.
"Miss Holdon," he began, "I am glad that I am not
the bearer of our sad news."
She wtlcomed him, and inviting him to be seated,
awaited his message.
"I would not have come to you thjs evening, but,
well, after office hours Mr. Sample Mr. Sample is a
very estimable gentleman, and a member of a reputable
firm of attorneys. As I said " he looked at the girl and
noted a heightened color, and a strange brightness in her
eyes "as I said, Miss Holdon, Mr. Sample came to me
he had just received a telegram from New York ask
ing him, no, instructing him, to take charge of a very
ahem a very important case against the estate, and he
asked me for a plain, straightforward answer. Would
we listen to his client with a view to a a settlement out
of court, or would we fight?" Fanchett pulled a hand
kerchief from his pocket, but forgot tfie purpose for
which he had extracted it, when Beatrice asked:
"And what is this case?"
"Well, well, now Miss Holdon, I only came to you as
a matter of form. You see, I told him I d have to see
you before I gave him a final answer, and, anyway, I
wanted time to telegraph to Battle Creek and get a re
ply, all of which I did, and as I said, I came to you a a
matter of form. In fact, I came so that, however thrs
case may go, we could say we consulted our client, for
you are now our client, you know."
Still holding the handkerchief, Fanchett remembered
his purpose and blew vigorously.
"Yes, to have everything ship-shape. I told him I
would have to see you. He grumbled a lot, said the pa
pers would give a lot for the release of the story "
"What story?" the girl demanded, and as she asked
the words of Bulman: "A hundred secret enemies and
as many blackmailers and parasites," flashed before
her.
"Why, the story tha your father ; now my dear
young lady don t faint, or or "
"For heaven s sake, tell me! Do you think I am
made of iron?"
MILLS OF MAMMON
"Well, well, I beg your pardon, but coming as it has
immediately "
Beatrice was on her feet and one of them was stamp
ing, even before his lips formed the words :
"Tell me and have done."
Fanchctt squared his shoulders, shot a look, not un
mixed with wonder, from underneath his bushy brows.
"Well, the story is this: Your father was married
to a Miss Wieboldt in Battle Creek, Mich., a little over
a year ago, and his wife is now in New York with her
baby. That s the story, and while I will admit the case
against the estate looks strong "
"What do they, she and the lawyers want?"
There was another look shot at the girl, this time of
growing wonder and appreciation.
"They want us to agree to meet for conference.
Otherwise they will give the story to the papers and at
tempt to make their case in the courts/
"And your advice is " she paused.
"Why, my advice is to fight. Of course, they would
put their strongest cards in the hand they snowed us to
day, but things are not always just as good as they look.
Besides, a conference means that we recognize that they
may have have well, have a fighting chance. And as
senior counsel of our firm, after conference with the
other members, I came to lay the case before you, in the
absence of your brother, and strongly urge that you sanc
tion our going ahead with a searching investigation, and
as good a defense as we can put up. Of course, it is
probable she will get "
"What is due her," Beatrice answered for him. "And
you will tell her attorney that the day after the funeral,
if she will attend " Yes, there was a dry little sob,
but she went on. "Tell her attorney I shall not set the
time of the funeral until I hear from "
"But, my dear girl, this is madness. Why, we have
put Martin and another man on the case; surely you
don t mean "
"I menn to defend my father s honor if it takes the
whole of his property, and then "
"But, I must protest. If all these unmarried widows
of rich men no offense Miss Holdon if all of them, a
tenth part of them, got their dues "
THE HUE AND CRY 473
He was interrupted. Beatrice had walked the length
of the room and as she turned back, said :
"You will please recall your detectives and give this
woman s attorney the assurance he asks. If she is not
iny father s wife, we can prove her falsity without hav
ing another full page in every newspaper in the country.
If she is my -father s wife, she shall have her rightful
place here."
"But I protest."
"And I insist. You will either carry out my wishes
in this matter to the letter or you may prepare to turn
my father s interests over to "
Fanchett did not wait for her to finish.
"Your wishes are law, Miss Holdon, law, as binding
upon me as the laws of the Medes and Persians were
upon the subjects of that kingdom, but I trust they may
not be as unchangeable."
Bowing himself out he was met in the front hall by
Aunt Nell.
"Well, sir, did you see him ?" she inquired.
"No, I saw her," the lawyer replied, shortly.
CHAPTER XXV.
MR. ABNER PREPARES TO GIVE BATTLE.
The morning after Moses Webster s interview with
Mr. Abner, that gentleman had regained his wonted calm
and dignified hold upon the forces he guided in the bat
tle for business. For a time the young man s denuncia
tion weighed upon him, even after business hours, but he
threw it off, much in the same manner the first murderer
is said to have attempted to lay the foundations for an
alibi with his God.
"A lot he knows about business, and less about those
rabid unionists, I guess, or religion. Now that was a
queer notion he had, another freakish outcropping of the
golden-rule-in-business idea. Well, I ll have to let him
go ; it wouldn t do to keep him on, after what happened
to-day." This as he lay courting sleep.
When he arrived at the office he took a hasty look in
the direction of Moses desk, and seeing that young man
with his face boring into his books, he passed on hurried
ly. Entering his office, the secretary and timekeeper
were summoned. Orders were issued that Moses Web
ster s name should leave the payroll that night.
The secretary, a good friend of Webster s, was much
perturbed, and reluctantly went about his task. In the
end, he returned to his office wondering how a young
man with a family could take a discharge without notice
so coolly. The news spreading through the office build
ing, that the confidential clerk had been "fired," not a
few offered condolence. To all, Moses had but one
reply,
"Yes, I got what the boys call the can/ and am going
to quit the city."
Abner had hardly finished with Moses when he sent
word to Moran that he was wanted in the office. The
foreman responded without a thought of what impended.
"Mr, Moran," Abner began, after he had kept the
474
MR. ABNER PREPARES TO GIVE BATTLE 475
foreman waiting, cap in hand a full ten minutes. "I
have read your report on the loss of that twenty-ton
casting last Tuesday; I have also examined the reports
of the moulders and furnace men, handed in by the as
sistant superintendent." He paused, took up a packet of
long envelopes and began leisurely to examine them.
"And I hope I made it plain in my report that we
have had a less percentage of loss on both light and
heavy work than the average plant using a like equip
ment," Moran spoke confidently.
"I noticed that you sought to convey that impression,
but it don t satisfy me. I mean, I am not running this
business on other men s averages. If other employers
keep incompetent help, that s their lookout. I want the
work done in this plant to count. And that on the right
side of the ledger. Take this piece of work, under your
direct supervision, and all the time used in producing
that cast and all the time it has taken to break it up is
just so much dead loss."
"But, Mr. Abner, there never was a moulder who
didn t lose work; and your assistant superintendent told
me the figure given on those four castings was made to
cover the loss of one and still leave the usual profit."
"And if the one had not blown out, the profit would
have been that much greater," the employer finished,
tapping the desk.
"I am sure I selected the very best men in the
shop "
"And this is the result," Abner exclaimed, triumph
antly. "This is the result."
"No, sir, it did not result from any fault of the men."
"Then you admit the fault was yours?"
"Yes, if it is a fault to obey the orders of a superior,
it was my fault."
"That will do, Mr. Moran ; that will do. I want a
foreman in your department who is less apt to make mis
takes, nnd one, sir, who when he does make a mistake,
will not attempt to "
"If I may finish that sentence for you, Mr. Abner, I
shall be a thousand times obliged to you. You want to
fire me and have labored over a very poor excuse, at
great length." Moran walked over to the president s
476 MILLS OF MAMMON
desk and looked down on that little man with a righteous
wrath burning through his blackened face.
Abner looked up quickly, wondering was he in for
another tongue lashing, and mixed with that query in his
mind was another. What sort of men were these he was
dealing with? Aloud he said:
"The reasonableness of the excuse must rest with
me; you could hardly be expected to admit its justice,
but, you did finish what I had to say to you. To-night
you will be relieved of your duties as foreman. If you
care to go on the floor as a moulder, I will see what can
be done."
"No, thanks, I know when I ve had enough/*
With these words, the foreman left the room and
went back to his work.
"I was a fool to let him go back among the men; I
should have fired him on the spot. The next one won t
fare so well." Mr. Abner jammed his pen into the shot
and scowled at the calendar.
Yancey took the news to John Bulman shortly before
noon, having got it straight from Carson.
"I have been looking for it," was John s comment.
"And I haven t. Why, man alive, the plant is almost
solidly union and the boys were getting ready to make
a demand for a closed shop all the way through."
"And he knew it." John laid a hand on Yancey s
arm. "You haven t been in this fight long enough to
know all its ins and outs. He knows almost as much
about the work of the unions as we do not all of the la
bor spies are men sent from a regular spy furnishing
agency. Right here in this room there are at least two
men, members of our union, who are supplying Abner s
assistant superintendent with every thread of informa
tion they manage to pick up at our meetings or from
the men."
"I can hardly believe it, John. How could a man at
your elbow, who called you brother, and accepted the
material advantages the organization gives him, consent
to play so mean a part?"
"God only knows, I don t; but I do know there are
such whelps in practically every labor organization."
"Well, that being the case, I suppose I m billed out,"
Yancey replied, resignedly, just as Wilson came up.
MR. ABNER PREPARES TO GIVE BATTLE 477
"Hello, Yancey. He turned to John. "Hear about
Moran getting the boots put to him, John?" The new
arrival looked anxious.
"Yes, I guess it s not news any longer," John an
swered.
A man working near Yancey s office called out : "Oh,
Yancey, the phone," and the word was passed along.
Yancey came back where John and Wilson were en
gaged in an animated conversation. John smiled as he
looked into the foreman s big, square- jawed, honest
face.
"Now, what?" he questioned.
"We are both invited to the office," Yancey replied,
and Wilson whistled.
"Guess you were right, John. Maybe I better get
back so as to answer my call when he s through with
you. Say, won t there be a little piece of something tore
off here if this keeps on?"
"If what keeps on?" The assistant superintendent,
a slim, lean-faced Pittsburg importation, had slipped
up behind the three. Wilson whirled on him.
"This slippery weather," he answered, and strode
away.
When Yancey and Bulman faced Abner, he said:
"I called you men in together because I understand
that you," his pencil pointed to Yancey, "have not made a
protest against this man s inflammatory utterances
among the hands. I have had any number of complaints
from the decent men in your department, and I have
waited, Mr. Yancey, to hear of your taking this matter
up, as I certainly expected you would." Yancey bowed
slightly, while John, remembering his experience at
Nixon s, sat smiling.
"Well, what have you to say, Mr. Yancey? You cer
tainly knew this man had been engaged in stirring up
discontent among our hands. In fact, I have it on what
seems to be quite good authority that you have listened
to his anarchistic mouthings, and "
"Will you allow me to say a word, Mr. Abner? It
may simplify matters a great deal," John added explana
tion to question and awaited a reply.
"I I would much prefer to settle the matter under
discussion with Mr. Yancey ; he ought to be able to"
MILLS OF MAMMON
"Hang himself," John blurted out, "because he hap
pens to be a friend of mine and would neither lie nor
state the truth in a way to hurt my feelings."
Yancey looked his gratitude and was on the point of
answering, when Bulman went on:
"Mr. Abner, you do not need to mince words nor
frame up excuses in order to get rid of me. I am only
a hand here, and you would not need to call me into your
office ; you didn t call me in on my own account, did you ?
Of course not; Yancey is the man you are after oh,
yes, you want me, too, but it s Yancey you want now.
But I m going to tell you that you ll have to hunt some
other excuse. Yancey is not a Socialist; he doesn t be
lieve in anything political, but your dear Republican
party. As for his listening to me, I will have to admit
that he has, but he nor any other man ever heard me talk
Socialism during work hours, and this foreman of yours,
happening to be one of the few old line partyites who
still believes in political liberty and free speech, has lis
tened to me and been very much disgusted with my ar
guments; still he listened. Now, if you can convince
him that it is necessary to the preservation of the Ameri
can democracy for all workers to surrender their politi
cal convictions at the door to your plant, why, without
doubt, he will see to it that I am the last disrupter ever
allowed in his department."
When John had finished, Mr. Abner straightened up.
"Your flippancy will not save you, my man, and I
am inclined to think I might dispense with your pres
ence, that is, if Mr. Yancey can get along without his
attorney;" the sneer that accompanied the thrust made
Yancey wince, but John just sat and smiled.
"Well, sir, do I have to repeat my desire that you
leave?" the president demanded, well-nigh beside him
self with anger, as he observed Bulman s cool demeanor.
"But you certainly have forgotten something, Mr.
Abner," John insisted.
"I will forget "
"And I would remind," John laughed. "Remind you
that you have not disposed of me. To allow me to re
turn to the machine shop with my case in its present
status might mean a further contamination of your vir
tuous, patriotic help. And if I quit this room without
MR. ABNER PREPARES TO GIVE BATTLE 479
first having been discharged, my duty to you, my em
ployer, would leave me no choice but to return to the
work I left unfinished. This being the case, Mr. Abner,
don t you think it would be best for you to have one of
the tale-bearers from the shop and another good safe
man accompany me and see to it that T pack my kit and
get out without attempting to blow anybody or anything
up?"
Yancey, in deep water himself, could not hide the
grin that spread over his face as he watched the two
men. John, cool, good humored, and in every way mas
ter of the situation, facing a little man on nettles and
plainly showing his discomfort. When John had finish
ed, he stood hat in hand waiting the decision of his em
ployer. The last named gentleman fumbled among some
loose papers on his desk, coughed and made up his
mind. Taking a speaking tube from its holder, he call
ed, "Williams, Williams," and waited.
Williams entered and without looking up, Abner
said: "Williams, go out with this man and see that he
gets his tools and other traps. As you go out, tell
Lowry to make out his time and see that he gets it
cashed."
When they were gone, he turned to Yancey, but was
forestalled by the latter s saying:
"It s entirely unnecessary for you to take up time
with me, Mr. Abner. You have discharged three men
within two days, for a reason known to both of us. And
you won t need to discharge the fourth on your list. If
you ll just call the secretary in and give him to under
stand that I ve resigned and want the same treatment
Bulman is to get, you ll greatly oblige me."
"But, I did not intend " Abner sputtered, and was
cut short.
"Your intentions I have no desire to discover at this
time ; you have my resignation ; I will not work another
hour under you. I believe in discharging men for cause,
and I do not believe in lying about the "
"Do you accuse me of lying?" Abner demanded, in
dignation written all over him.
, "I accuse you of attempting to job me over the shoul
ders of a better man ; I m going out to get my tools, and
480 MILLS OF MAMMON
by the time the men knock off I ll be in the office and
shall expect a settlement in full."
We have said that Abner was a better handler of
men, a better industrial general than either Price or Hoi-
don. He is, but the men he has been weeding out are
not the ordinary "hands." If he is once safely rid of
the few "men" he had marked, he will prove his title
well bestowed.
It is the "man" among the "hands" who is always
marked, bear that in mind. It is always the fighter for a
man s rights in the industrial battle whose name graces
the "blacklist." And it is always the lick-spittle, tale
bearer, liar, hypocrite and me-too whose welfare is the
concern of our goo-goo apologists for scabbery and Pink-
erton espionage over labor. Abner, manager of the Hoi-
don Company, and of its sister corporations, president,
is not asleep. There are a dozen men or more in this
one plant who are almost as courageous as these men
he is discharging and he must be rid of them.
Will the "hands" at Holdon s rise in revolt when
these twelve "men" are put aside? Will they?
Remember, an injury to one is not yet felt to be the
concern of all, even in the ranks of organized labor.
The infamous blacklist bears witness that thousands
of men have been and are being denied the right to live
by the exercise of skill, dearly bought in the mills, mines
and factories of this land, simply because they fought
for the advancement of a principle. And in these mills,
mines and factories other men, union men, to hold their
jobs, forswear the principle their blacklisted brothers
fought to uphold, make peace with the scab, sit un
moved in the presence of Pinkerton spies, and insist that
they are saving the world of labor from degradation.
What will the "hands" do? A handful of men in the
various departments will do their utmost to induce the
"hands" to go on strike ; should they succeed in taking the
hands out with them a few hired thugs, a few broken win
dows, a street fight or two, then a prostituted court B would
issue the ready-made injunction and the unions involved
would have to set a watch on their membership to keep
them in line, another watch on the scabs, another for spies,
/iii l finally appeal to labor as a whole to finance the
strike. In the meantime, the gentlemanly agents of the
MR. ABNER PREPARES TO GIVE BATTLE 481
employer would get busy. First, priests and preachers
would be reached in order that moral suasion might be
brought to bear upon the misguided, though righteous
among the hands. Next, these same gentlemanly agents
would hunt high and low to discover an official or two
among the unions who might be moved by bribery. Hired
liars and leprous lawyers in swarms would surround the
hands; jealousy, distrust, fear, want, hunger, religion,
politics, patriotism, property interests, all centering their
fire upon the "hands," the best they would dare to hope
would be a drawn battle. A victory in wage increase, ac
companied by as great an increase in living expenses, is
the history of all successful labor struggles. The history
of labor s defeats is indeed pitiful. But what will the
hands do?
Mr. Abner is prepared for battle, and a thousand Mr.
Abners are preparing for, are prepared or are engaged
in battle with their hands as you read this.
Read the story, any story of labor s struggle, from
Homestead to McKees Rocks, and aside from local color
ing, they are practically identical.
In Mammon s mills the miller sets the toll each shall
pay who brings grist to be ground.
And Mr. Abner is ready for battle.
CHAPTER XXVI.
THEY ACCEPT.
The funeral of the Honorable Horace Holdon was
featured by the press as one of the most notable in a
decade.
In an eastern city another funeral was held the same
day, the funeral of a man who has been charged with
two crimes, and this funeral was also "played up" in
order that the story of the Holdon murder might be re
told as "news."
When the women of the Holdon household returned
from the cemetery it was to find a telegram from New
York.
"Mrs. Holdon is very ill ; will wire again to-morrow.
"J. D. Downie, M. D."
Beatrice read the message and handed it to her aunt
without comment.
"The strumpet, ill, indeed! I tell you, Beatrice, that
woman is an impostor." Aunt Nell ended by throwing
the message on the floor and putting her foot on it.
"But, aunt, you know Mr. Martin reported that he
had found the record of the marriage license; also the.
janitor who took care of the church "
"I thought you told me yesterday that they were mar
ried at a parsonage?" Aunt Nell snapped out.
"Yes, but it happened this janitor was at the parson
age, not at the church. Mr. Martin says he described
both quite accurately," the girl replied in a tired voice.
"And so you intend to take that filthy thing in here,
when she recovers from her illness?" The scorn of the
elder woman cut deep, but the girl ignored it as she re
plied :
"If she was good enough for my father to marry, she
is good enough to have her rights in the estate. If I
cannot live with her "
482
THEY ACCEPT 483
"Yes, if you can t live with her, what then? Marry
that cad who s been snooping around here for a year?"
"To whom do you refer?" the niece asked quietly,
but there was anything but quietness -in her eyes.
"To Charles Augustus; who else?"
"That will do, aunt. At any time it would be, well,
presumptuous, let us say, but at this time, aunt, aunt,
I haven t merited this." The girl covered her face with
her hands and began to weep.
"You haven t merited what, I should like to know?
To hear you talk one would think that your own father s
sister had no more rights in this house than a stranger."
Aunt Nell lifted her voice to a shrill pitch as she went,
on. "When I called Charles Augustus a cad, I meant
it. And what s more, when he called here the other
evening, I told him as much. Do you think I am blind?
Well, I m not, and neither am I deaf. I heard him not
two weeks ago telling Hammond he had you broke to
the bridle and that as soon as he had the thing cinched
he d see to it that the female chestnut of the family, who
was already cracked, got hers."
During this recital Beatrice had dried her tears and
sat drinking in every word.
"Did he really say that, or were you having a nap?"
she asked in an awed voice.
"Nap, your grandmother! I don t nap when young
men are around, or old ones either."
"If it will," Beatrice selected her words carefully.
"If it will relieve your mind and in some measure restore
me to your better thoughts, I will tell you. I never in
tended to marry Mr. Wetherby, even should he ask
me."
"Thank the Lord, that s off my mind. That is, if
you really mean it?" She cast a glance of suspicion in
the direction of Beatrice, then turned her eyes to the
ceiling in silent thanksgiving.
Aunt Nell had developed a deep interest in the Hoi-
don estate, and had written a brother and sister that, if
they came on to the funeral, she had no doubt Miss Hoi-
don would, through her influence, do the handsome thing
,by them. She had added that, without doubt, Joel was
dead, and the property would be divided.
The clan had arrived and in time for the last sad
484 MILLS OF MAMMON
rites. At the moment Mrs. Bishop had given her opin
ion about the new Mrs. Holdon, the brother had stood
within earshot in the hall, and in his righteous indigna
tion against this woman who would claim a widow s
dower, and this baby who would suck up so great a
part of the estate if it did not with its puny hands hold
the entire property away from the hungry heirs there
assembled, he had fairly groaned aloud. He was still
standing there, and occupying as little space as possible
against the wall, when Aunt Nell again gave voice to the
subject uppermost in her mind.
"Really, my dear, I should like to know," the speak
er brought her eyes from the ceiling, "once for all, are
you going to be fool enough to recognize that woman
and her brat?"
"Stop right there, aunt. My father s child, my sis
ter, is not a brat, and besides," Beatrice had arisen and
was about to leave the room.
"Your father s child?" the other taunted. "A likely
story. It s some brat picked out of the gutter and foist
ed upon you in order to rob us of our property."
Beatrice turned. "Our property?" she repeated,
questioningly.
"Yes, our property. When your father died intestate
the millions he left belong to his family, and this inter
loperthis "
"I have heard quite enough of this, aunt. If you and
all the other relatives are going to begin to fight for the
spoils before the grave is sealed, I shall have to ask you
to to leave me. I cannot "
"You cannot play into the hands of that adventuress
fast enough," the other almost shrieked as the girl ran
out of the room and plumped into her Uncle Walter,
who had gradually drawn nearer to the door during the
interview.
Beatrice ran to her rooms without stopping to
acknowledge the profuse apologies Uncle Walter offered
for having just at that moment halted at the door un
certain whether to go in or not.
"Oh, my poor father," she cried upon bended knees
by the big chair he used to sit in when she could in
veigle him into visiting her sitting room. "They are
here, not out of respect for you, but because they want
THEY ACCEPT 485
your money. And Uncle Walter I wouldn t have
thought that of him."
As the clock ticked off the minutes the girl, sore
pressed, poured out both tears and prayers for guid
ance. Her father s lawyers were against her her own
flesh and blood as well and all against the woman
who had married her father as well. Every one to fight.
Hew she wished the mother and baby were there to give
her courage, or drive her to despair ; any way, she would
hold out for the wife and her little sister against them
all, no, not all. With a glad cry, she sprang to her feet.
John Bulman was not against her. Had he not warned
her, urged her to be brave?
She would see him and at once, if he were to be
found. A little note written and folded by nervous
fingers, a call on the house phone and a maid hastening
away as though her life depended upon it, then a rest
less nerve-consuming wait. Finally, unable to remain
inactive longer, Beatrice went downstairs and as she
reached the front hall, saw Aunt Nell at the door.
"No, you are mistaken, you were not sent for," Mrs.
Bishop was saying and a voice on the outside replied :
"Madam, it is you who are mistaken: Here is the
summons I answer." Bulman held Beatrice s note to
ward the keeper of the gate. It was snatched from him
and torn into bits.
"That for your summons; the girl is clearly beside
herself, and it is high time her relatives put a stop
, .v
"Mrs. Bishop, will you please step aside?" It was
not a question, but a command, and Mrs. Bishop, after
one frightened glance at the girl s set face, fairly flew
up the stairs and into her apartments.
"Mr. Bulman," Beatrice held out both hands. "I am
more glad to see you than I can tell, and I want to apol
ogize "
"Not at all, not at all." Their hands still clasped.
"I don t mind, and you wouldn t if you knew the over
topping reason for it all. " He was led into the library.
Excusing herself, Beatrice went to the doors and
carefully closed them one after another.
"They have not begun already?" the man protested,
486 MILLS OF MAMMON
and was answered with a nod and a blush of shame as
the girl turned back to him.
For two hours this man of the people listened, ad
vised, dissuaded and encouraged the woman. At the
end of that time they had decided to present to the at
torneys a proposition, which if accepted, would give them
time to prosecute the search for Joel, rid the estate of
the several pieces of property then used for questionable
purposes, and at least satisfy the b rother and sisters of
the deceased for a time. It also provided for Beatrice
holding the residence until such time as the court should
decide -that the son s interest in the estate need no longer
be considered.
When it had been roughly drafted by Bulman
Beatrice asked:
"Will they sign it?"
"The widow will," John answered, soberly.
"And the others?"
"The others, too, if they know what s good for them.
You see," he added, "the way matters stand, they are
not sure of anything; there are so many complications.
I believe they ll grab at the twenty thousand each, and
hope to find some way around the waiver, should any
thing else turn up."
"I ought to be insulted when you talk that way about
my relatives" a sad little smile came to her lips "but I
am not. Your talk this evening has been a tonic to
me."
"And I have been paying a debt." Bulman looked
at his watch. "Nine o clock; land alive, I had no idea
it was so late."
"Is it? Why, so it is!" She stood facing him.
"What are you doing; still in the shop our shop?"
"No, I was overworked and am taking a much need
ed rest."
There was banter in his tone.
"Out of work again, Mr. Bulman? I am sorry. How
would you like to work for me?"
"Tip-top," he replied, and on the way home, asked
himself what she could have meant.
When Lawyer Fanchett called by appointment at the
house the day" after Bulman s visit, the first thing he
said was:
THEY ACCEPT 487
"I want to congratulate you upon the stand you took
regarding your father s widow. The evidence is ac-
. umulating and in her favor." Beatrice smiled wanly.
"Pretty hard lines for you, e h, Miss Holdon?" he be
gan, and hesitated. "But, you are as brave as as a
woman ought to be. Now, if you d broken down, we d
made a mess of it, I know we would. Why, Linkenfelter
was furious, positively so, when I went back and told
him we were not to fight."
Silently Beatrice had pushed the agreement she had
rewritten across to him. Mechanically he picked it up
and immediately it came under his eyes he was repeat
ing, "I told him we were not to fight," and then, "Good
heavens, what is this, a will? No."
The girl watched him closely as he read, but made
no comment. When he had finished, he turned back and
began all over again.
"Will they sign this ? Your relatives, I mean ? Have
you consulted them ?" he demanded, and before she could
answer, asked: "Did you draw up this paper?"
"I had the help of a friend," she replied.
"And a level-headed one one who knows something
of the entanglements we have to unravel. B} the way,
how did you know about these several pieces of prop
erty?" Tapping the paper with his knuckles, the lawyer
observed her narrowly.
"My friend knew." A blush of shame dyed her
cheeks, and she bent her head until she could only see
his shoes.
"Your friend knows enough, evidently," he put in,
with some warmth.
"Yes, enough to be a true friend."
"As a rule," he began, "I do not believe it good policy
to fix hard and fast conditions of this sort, say like these
selling orders, but in view of your stepmother s past
life; do you know of that, too?" he questioned.
"Yes." The answer seemed to be drawn from her
with her own heartstrings. The man looked at the
shrinking girl and over his face there came a new ex
pression, an expression of approval, as he said:
"I shall urge the carrying out of this agreement, and
I have no doubt that Mrs. Holdon will be glad to sign it.
The sale of the property in that case would be a matter
488 MILLS OF MAMMON
easily disposed of, and the creation of the trust fund out
of the proceeds for carrying on your project for the
children will be easy. There s one thing you forgot, a
provision for the expense attached to the search for
Joel. We should include that."
"I did not forget that," Beatrice corrected. "I want
to bear that expense."
"Nonsense, nonsense!" the lawyer sputtered. "The
estate shall bear the expense. I shall note it down in
this most entertaining document." He smiled and the
girl nodded assent. "Now about the relatives ; have they
been making demands upon you?"
"No, not demands."
"But, rather blunt insinuations, eh? I ll tell you
frankly, Miss Holdon, three of them have hired attor
neys, and there are others to follow. Now, I m going
straight to the office and have their attorneys over. I ll
lay this document before them and tell them flatly that
unless they accept all of the conditions you have named,
we will tie the estate up in a neat little package and they
won t get a cent. There is no doubt as to the outcome.
We have plenty of funds on hand to pay them, and if
you will draw up a check for forty thousand, I will see
that it goes through and you will be relieved of this
much of your burden."
Beatrice drew her check book from the table drawer,
and asked as she held it in a trembling hand, "Have I a
right to to "
"Certainly, you have a right. Did you suppose we
intended or that the courts could, tie up your father s
estate so that you or your agents could not get funds to
meet your every-day needs? Why, if you want to real
ize on a check for one hundred thousand, I ll see that
the money is forthcoming."
"Thank you, I feel much better; I really thought
everything would be "
"Involved in litigation," he finished for her, with a
broad smile.
She bent over the check book. "The largest check I
ever drew, and, oh, how I wish I we had Joel here."
"Yes," Fanchett replied in a very deliberate way,
his face expressive of anything but enthusiasm as he took
the check.
THEY ACCEPT 489
"Now, unless there s something further you want to
say to me, Miss Holdon, I am going back to the office.
By the way, with your permission, I ll get those lawyers,
both the relatives and Mrs. Holdon s, on the phone and
have them there when I get back."
"There is one thing I d like to have your opinion on."
The girl spoke slowly and with great effort, as Fanchett
hung up the receiver and announced ; "They ll be there."
"Don t you think I ought to have an agent, a good,
reliable man, to look after the details so long as I am sup
posed to be the head of affairs?"
"Of course," the reply came with emphasis.
"And may I select my own agent? A man I have
known for years, one who is the soul of honor and "
"If he s a business man, yes," Fanchett explained.
"There s a thousand loose ends to be picked up, a lot
of property to be taken care of, and it needs a man of
business. Now, I have in mind an excellent man for the
place "
"But, you forget, Mr. Fanchett, that you have ad
mitted my choice is to be considered."
"Well, yes, now, who is he?"
"Mr. John Bulman."
"John Bulman, John Bulman. I ve heard that name
before. Well, we will discuss this agent proposition
later." Mr. Fanchett held out his hand.
"No, we won t discuss it later. Here s his address.
You will please notify him that he has been appointed
to look after mv interests in the estate, at a salary of
of "
"But, my dear lady, I must protest that we, your at
torneys, should have the right to examine this man, this
Mr. , what was it? Yes, Bulman. Unless you
are absolutely sure of his good judgment, his ability, his
honesty, in which case of course "
"Of course, I would have the right to name him.
Well, I have every right to name him, Mr. Fanchett. I
have every reason to esteem Mr. Bulman. You said if I
had broken down you would have made a mess of the
case ; you have been pleased to tell me that if we can get
my father s widow and the others to accept the terms I
offer them, we will be saved a world of trouble. Well,
Mr. Bulman saved me from breaking down. It was he
49O MILLS OF MAMMON
who advised me to protect my father s honor by keeping
this woman out of the courts ; it was he who pointed out
that father s brother and sisters would accept a lump
sum now in preference to the uncertainty of getting as
much after litigation; it was he who insisted that the
woman and baby are more apt to be impostors than not,
but that we could not afford to quarrel with them now;
it was he who pointed out the way by which I might re
tain my home here and at the same time be free to in
vestigate this woman s claims, and that without material
ly injuring her or her right to finally take possession of
the property; it was he who suggested asking the court
to sanction our plans upon the ground that no proof that
Joel is dead has been discovered, and we should have a
reasonable time in which to ascertain his fate. Finally,
it was he who, knowing my father owned these pieces of
property, at present used," she hesitated, "he suggested
their immediate sale and the disposition of the proceeds."
"And this man " the lawyer began.
"And this man, John Bulman, gave me courage and
advice worth more than the millions father left for others
to fight over, and I want him to help carry out the things
he planned for me."
"Who is he?"
"My agent, if you please."
"Very well, we ll call that settled. I will notify him
and make the salary, say, two hundred dollars per month.
Of course," he added, misunderstanding the expression
on Beatrice s face, "if he is of as great value in an ex
ecutive capacity as your your recommendation would
imply, we might make him one of the administrators of
the estate also, and increase his salary accordingly. But
I must go, positively, I must. Those claimants lawyers
will be anxious. Don t be surprised if I call you up in
an hour."
The hour Beatrice Holdon sat with the phone before
her on the library table was short indeed. For in that
hour she had built and furnished a new home for John
Bulman, and saw the fund for the defense of working
children beginning to bear fruit. The bell rang its tiny
silver note. She looked at the instrument, then as it
rang again, pushed it away, with something akin to
dread written upon her beautiful face. Again the bell
THEY ACCEPT.
rang. With a sudden cry of protest, protest against the
possibilities of disaster to her hopes that lay within the
moment, she took down the receiver.
"They accept, both for the widow and the relatives.
Say, their lawyers were not overly well pleased, but to
refuse would have have put them in such bad light. And
about Bulman. Are you listening? Yes, well, Linken-
felter knows him."
"And what does he say?" The girl s voice was so
low Fanchett asked her to repeat. Then answered:
"Oh, he says Bulman will do. Says he will take
charge of him yes, he said tell Miss Holdon I am of
the same faith. I don t know what that means, but when
Linkenfelter says he s all right, your interests will be
perfectly safe in his hands."
(THE END.)
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