INTERNATIONAL PRESS ASSOCIATION. CHAPTER XXV. HE receipt of Miss H e t h e r 1 n gton’s check seemed to come like oil upon the troubled wat ers of the little household. Caussi dlere was certainly pleased. Though it was not so much, he said, as the old miser might have sent, It was certainly acceptable under the circumstances. , After taking care to pocket the "draft, he tossed up the boy and kissed him, and told Marjorie he looked as if she coddled him too much. Then he prepared to leave. “Shall you be back soon, Leon?” asked Marjorie, timidly. Whenever she addressed him now she was al ways fearful of the reception of her words. “I shall not return at all,” answered Caussidiere; “or rather, I shall be late, as I dine with a little party of friends. Do not sit up for me.” And with another kiss blown airily to his offspring he was off. , Marjorie did not cry or show any sign that this conduct distressed her. She was too used to it for that. She turned in tender despair to her only comfort—the child. They sat alone to gether, the little one perched on his mother's knee, listening opened mouth ed as she talked to him of her old home. She told him of Miss Hether ington, about the manse, and Mr. Lor raine, who lay quietly asleep in the little kirkyard. How strange it would be, she thought, to take the little one there. How Miss Hetherington would love him; how old Solomon would stare and call it “uncanny” to hear him prattling so prettily in french! Ah! but would the day ever come when she could take him there in deed? Long after the child had gone to bed, Marjorie sat by the fire thinking of those happy days; she wrote to Miss Hetherington, concealing as well as she could the dark spots in her life, speaking cheerfully and happily of her little boy, and still dwelling upon the hope of one day bringing him to her old home. Then she sat down to wait for her husband. V Caussidlere was late, and when he appeared Marjorie saw at a glance that all his good humor ,had left him. He was angry at finding her up; accused her of wishing to time his going and coming, and peremptorily ordered her to bed. Without a word Marjorie obeyed; she saw that he was rather the worse for liquor, and that any thing she might say would provoke him. The next morning she rose early, ac cording to her usual custom. To her amazement, just as she was about to give the child his breakfast, Caussi dlere came down. He had dressed with unusual care; he took his breakfast silently, and when it was over he went up stairs again to add a few more touches to his already carefully made toilet; then he reappeared, nodded to the boy and to Marjorie—he was too well dressed to touch either—and left the house. Though he had said nothing, Mar jorie was certain from his dress and mysterious manner that it was no or dinary work that had called him away that morning, and as she thought of the strange, cold way he had left her, her eyes filled with tears. Suddenly there was a knack at the door. Hastily brushing away her tears, Marjorie cried “Entrez,” and the door opened, admitting a woman, none other than Adele of the Mouche d’Or. Of all the women of Caussidiere’s acquaintance, this was the one whom Marjorie most wished to avoid. She was half afraid of Adele, since she had on one occasion heard her singing one of her songs in a cafe crowded with men. Marjorie’s strict Scotch train ing made her shrink from commun ion with such a woman. When she saw Adele’a face, therefore, she felt troubled, and demanded rather coldly What she sought. ,, "I seek Caussldlere,” returned Adele. “Is he at home?” “No,” returned Marjorie, quietly, “he has gone out.” She thought this answer was con clusive and expected to see Adele dis appear, but she was disappointed. She came In, closing the door behind her, walked over to little Leon, and patted him on the head. Leon gazed up and smiled; he had no fear of her; but Marjorie made a movement as it to protect him from her touch. As Marjorie came forward. Adele looked up from the boy’s curly head, and asked, almost roughly; "Where is Caussldlere, did you say?” "I do not know,” returned Marjorie, drawing the boy toward her; “he did not tell me. . “He seems to tell you very little, about himself, madame,” said Adele! fixing her eyes strangely upon her companion’s face; then she added, suddenly, “Why do you draw the boy away from me?” Marjorie did not answer, so, with a short, hard laugh, the girl con* tinued: “I suppose you think, madame, that X am not fit to touch him? Well, per haps you are right.” “I did not mean that,” returned Mar jorie, gently. “If X kissed the little one, would you be angry?” cried Adele, with a curious change of manner. "Ah, madame, I am bad enough, but not quite so bad as you think me. I love little chil dren. I once had a little boy like this of my own." “A little boy! Then you are mar ried; you have a husband-” "When my child was only a baby, before he could walk or speak,” con tinued Adele, not heeding the ques tion, “I—I lost him. I do not even know if he is alive or dead.” And she lifted little Leon in her arms, and kissed him wildly. Marjorie’s gentle heart was touched. “You lost your child?” she cried, full of sympathy. "He was taken from me, madame. I was too poor to keep him, and one night—one cold winter night—his father placed him in the basket at the Foundling. X have never seen him since—never! ” . "How wicked of yotsi; how cruel! To desert your child!” “You do not understand. In France it is the custom when folk are poor.” Marjorie shrank from the woman in horror. All her maternal heart was in revolt, and with an impulsive gesture she drew little Leon to her and em braced him tenderly. Adele looked at the pair with a strange expression of mingled sorrow and pity. “And your husband, madame?” she asked, suddenly. "Is he good to you?” “Yes. Why do you ask?” says Mar jorie, in surprise. “Never mind,” returned Adele, with her old laugh. "For myself, X thinir that all men are canaille. It is we others, we women, who bear the bur den while the men amuse themselves. Why does Caussidiere leave you so much alone? Why does he dress so well, and leave you and the little one so shabby? Ah, he is like all the rest!” “What my husband does,” cried Marjorie, indignantly, “is no concern of yours. I will not hear you say a word against him!” Adele laughed again. “You are only a child,” she said, moving to the door. “Will you give Monsieur Caussidiere a message from me?” “Yes, if you wish." “Tell him he ii wanted tomorrow at our place; he will understand.” She half opened the door.then turned and looked back. “Do you know, madame, that in a few days the Germans will be before Paris?” “Ah, yes!” “Let them hasten! I hope they will come soon. I shall not be sorry for one, if they burn Paris to the ground!" “Why do you say that?” cried Mar jorie, shocked at the speaker’s tones as well as the words. “Let them burn Paris, and me with the rest of the people; it will be well!” said Adele, in a low voice, very bitter ly. “The bonfire is ripe, madame! But,” she added, "I should be sorry if any harm came to you or to the child. Some day, perhaps—who knows?—I may be able to serve you. Will you remember that?” “What do you mean?” exclaimed Marjorie. “You are a strange woman; you-” “I am what I am; sometimes I think I am a devil, not a woman at all. Good-by.” And without another word she dis appeared, leaving Marjorie lost in i wonder at the extraordinary interview i between them. CHAPTER XXVI. N leaving Marjo rie that day and coming into the street, Caussidiere walked along rapid ly in the direction of the boulevards. He hummed a light air as he went,and held up his head with that self-sat isfaction only felt by the man who has money in his pocket. Indeed, the receipt of Miss Hetherington’s draft had taken a weight off his mind, as he had "an ap pointment that evening with an in dividual whose tastes were expensive like his own. His business during the day does not concern us, but when it was evening, and the lights were lit, the cafes thronged, the footpaths full of people coming and going, he reappeared in the center of the city. Lighting a ci gar, he strolled up and down; paused at a kiosk and bought a newspaper; then, approaching the front of one of the great cafes, found a vacant seat at a table, ordered some coffee, and sat down in the open air watching the busy throng. He was sitting thus when his atten tentlon was attracted to a figure stand ing close by him. It was that of a young man dressed carelessly In a tweed suit and wearing a wideawake hat. He was standing In the light of one of the windows, talking to an other man, somewhat his senior, whom he had just met. Caussldlere caught a portion of their conversation. “And hoo lang hae ye been In Par is?” asked the elder man. “All the summer,” replied the oth er. “I came here to study and paint, and I have been doing very well. How are all In Annandale?” “Brawly, brawly. Where are you staying?" Caussldlere did not catch the reply, and the two men moved away with the crowd; but he had recognized, at a glance, in the younger of the inter locutors, an old friend—John Suther land. “Dlable!” he muttered. “What has brought him to Paris? I must take care that he and Marjorie do not meet.” He rose, paid for his refreshment, and walked away. It was now 8 o’clock. Hailing a fiacre, he jumped in, and ordered the coachman' to drive to the theater du Chatelet. Alighting at the door, Caussldlere strolled into the vestibule, and paid for a seat in one of the balcony boxes. He found the vast place thronged from floor to celling to witness the' per formance of a fairy spectacle, then in its 100th night, the "Sept Filles du Dl able," founded on some fanciful east ern story. It was a tawdry piece,with Innumerable ballets, processions, pa geants, varied with certain scenes of horse-play, In which a corpulent low comedian, a great popular favorite,was conspicuous. Caussldlere was charmed, concentrating his admiring eyes par ticularly on one black-eyed, thickly painted lady, who personated a fairy prince and sang “risky” songs, with topical allusions and dancing accom paniments, in a very high shrill voice, to the great rapture of the assembled Parisians. At the end of the third act Caussldlere left his seat and •trolled round to the back of the thear ter. CHAPTER XXVII. ASSING the Cerbe rus of the stage door, by whom he seemed to be well known, Caussl dlere soon found himself "behind the scenes," and pushed his way through a confused throng of supernu meraries, figuran tes and stage carpenters till he reached the greenroom. Here he found many of the perform ers lounging about and standing in the center of the floor. Dressed in a tur ban and sultan’s robes, and surround ed by a group of ladies in all kinds of scanty costumes, was the obese low comedian—as loud voiced, low-fore headed a satyr of a man as could be found in the theatrical profession, even in Paris. As Caussidiere appeared, the actor greeted him by name with a loud laugh. "Welcome, mon enfant, welcome,” he cried, shaking hands. “The Germans are approaching, yet behold—we sur vive!" The ladies now turned to Caussidiere, who greeted them by their Christian names—Blanche, Rose, Ada, Adele, Sarah, and so on. He seemed to knod’ them well, but, as he talked to them, looked round impatiently for some per son who was not present. (TO BE CONTINUED.) HE WAS JUSTLY DEFEATED. Came Within Four Inches of Being m Millionaire. "I’m not going to give names, but you all know that I have no imagina tion that can invent fairy tales. I lit erally came within four inches of be ing a millionaire.” “Go on!” exclaimed the man at the club who is the recognized story pro moter in the organization, says the De troit Free Press. "I’m telling you right. Some years ago I secured employment in an im mense factory that turns out a certain chemical basic used the world over, and as staple as wheat It was a rule of the establishment that a good man could stay as long as he wanted to In one department, but under no circum stances could he go from one depart ment to another. Every possible pre caution was taken against the discov ery of the secret process. By a series of studied disguises I succeeded in find ing employment in every department but one, and that being where the col oring was done I thought this omis sion of very little Importance. By standing in with one of the office men I succeeded in tracing the parts entering Into the prlm tpal machines. This was no small Job, for there would be one piece made in Portland, Me., andother in San Francisco, another In Dallas, and another would be imported. I went everywhere and mastered the machin ery. Then upon a guarantee that I had secured the process I interested capi tal. When we anxiously analyzed re sults we found that the stuff was all right except in color. Then I grew des perate and determined to dig my way into the coloring department of the parent institution. Just as I began work on a four-inch partition I was discovered, and incontinently tossed from a second-story window. We found it impossible to master the trick of col oring, and all we had to show for half a million Invested was a lot of empty buildings and smokeless stacks. I’ve concluded Blnce that I got just what I deserved.” Sales of land along the Northern Pa cific and Great. Northern railways are reported larger than in many years. A SAMPLE REFORMER THE PISE AND PALL OP A POP PATPlOT. From Roustabout to Politician) Re Be comes a Free Paws Grabber and Sella the Pasteboards to Scalpers—Conster nation In Pop Headquarters In Its Re lation to Railroad Headquarters. An Object Lesson. The rise and fall of Prof. Hendee, of the Deaf and Dumb Institute at Omaha affords an object lesson. Hen dee used to live In Saline county, where he was knowif as a roustabout politician of the lower order. When he had run his course there he dis appeared, drifted out, and after sev eral years turned up somewhere In Kansas. Edmlsten, the state oil In spector, who knew Hendee and what he was good for, sent for him a few months ago to come to Lincoln, for there was some special work In hts line that needed to be done during the campaign. Just what this special work was no one will ever know outside of the state house ring at Lincoln, but Hendee was provided with free transportation and sent out over the state ostensibly to solicit subscriptions for populist newspapers. He performed his work so well that after he had been hero only a few weeks, while his wife was still in Kansas and he was yet a resi dent of that state, he was made as sistant superintendent of the Deaf and Dumb Institute at Omaha. He had no qualifications for this important place, but the poor deaf mutes could not pro test, and, being backed by the Btatc house ring, he got the job, not only for himself, but his wife was brought up from bleeding Kansas on a free pass and put on the state pay-roll. There were several worthy persons, teachers and citizens of this state, who had given some attention to the technical knowledge necessary for a position in such an institution, but tho Hendees, by reason of this secret work performed under the direction of Ed miston, the state chairman of the re form movement, they snapped their fingers at their Nebraska competitors. For a few months the Hendees flour ished at this state institution, and when Mutz, the Investigator, called to spend a few days and eat a few meals they took care that his royal stomach was satisfied with the fat of the land at the state's expense. But no man of crooked ways is ever se cure. His tricks will find him out and his chickens will come home to roost. Free transportation, while it is free, has its meets and its bounds. You can ride a free pass just as you can ride a free horse, but you can’t sell it to some other man who is not in the free pass ring and whose name is not written there on the free pass list without an after-clap that is full of grief. The railroads, when they are held up by a reform movement and commanded to deliver free transporta tion, generally do so with an affable grace that comes only with long ex perience, but they have their way of keeping tab on the free pass reform patriots who frolic up and down their lines, and when they find a free pass which hau been sold to Home cold blooded stranger who is no pass re former at all and no patriot, and who has no claims whatever on the free ride courtesy of the corporations, then they take this free transportation in out of the wet and they get after the man who procured it and the man in whose name it was issued and who converted it into cash, with an energy which shows more spirit than you would expect to find in a brow-beaten pass-ridden, reform-regulated cor poration. Now, when this reform professor had sold his free transportation and when It bobbed up in the hands of a stranger who had never been in the reform movement at all, had never been initiated into any of the anti pass alliance lodges which Prof. Hen dee had organized in this state, the conductor coolly took that free trans portation up and forwarded it to head quarters at Omaha. Then came a sharp letter from the railroad headquarters at Omaha to the reform headquarters at Lincoln. Now you understand when the railroad headquarters and the reform head quarters put their headquarters to gether in a co-partnership for the pur pose of regulating the corporations and the politicians of the state, and when they start in to ferret out any crookedness, they generally find their man. And so the letters flew back and forth, thick and fast, and the reform movement at Lincoln fairly sweat in its efforts to purge itself of the guilt which should rest on the professor, for it was he and he alone who had sold the transportation to a scalper in Omaha and had pocketed the money, every dollar of it, not turning so much as a penny into the reform campaign fund. Edmundson was innocent, and he did not hesitate to declare himself so, not only to the railroad officials, but also the other members of the anti pass reform ring at the state house, each of whom went about for several days from one department to another with a sort of Cock Robin inquiry on their faces, for they realized how em barrassing it would be for the reform movement if a coldness should spring up between their headquarters and the railroad headquarters at Omaha. Edmundson admitted candidly that he had found the professor wandering over bleeding Kansas’ wind-swept plains, where whiskers take the place of brains, and had brought him to this state to do some special work for the reform movement; that the professor had been provided with free trans portation, as all active reformers are in this state, but they had conjured the professor that under no circum stances, however urgent, must he sell the transportation to a scalper. Soon after election, a year ago, when a fusion had been effected be tween the fusion headquarters at Lin coln and the railroad headquarters at Omaha, the railroad people said: “Now, if we must, we will arrange to furnish all the free transportation which is necessary to run this pass reform movement, but you ■will par don uh If we suggest that in this re form gang which you have organ ized there are a good many rag-tag and bobtail scallawags, who will not scruple, when they have bidden this free transportation as far as they want to go ,to sell it for whatever they can get, anu we want to stipu late that this shall not be done.” Edmisten, tapping his gold-headed cane on the carpet and considering his proposition gravely for a moment, ad mitted that It was no more than fair as between one headquarters and an other, and he agreed to it “We are honorable men,” said Edmisten. “We are not as bad as our enemies have painted us. We are all, ail honorable men.” And now, because the honor of these honorable men was at Btake, and because it is a matter of principle with them that whatever promises they break they will keep faith with cor porations when once they have given their word, it was Incumbent on Ed misten and Eager, who had been the Joint chaperones of the Kansas pro fessor, to make it hot for him . “Write to him,” said Edmisten, “and I roast him in the paper if necessary. We must do something to clear our selves of this breach of faith, for we never can carry the next state elec tion w.,.u a coldness between us and the railroad headquarters.” "I’ll write to him,” said Eager. "I’ll blister him. I’ll cartoon him. We’ll burn him at the stake. We’ll do anything but dis charge him. Rather than that this pass reform shall fail and the com mon people be left without protection, naked to their enemies." And they did make it hot ror me professor. He had writhed In the blis tering simoons of Kansas. He ha.l groaned and sweat under the pressure of the money power, but now as Ed misten and Eager fired through the malls volley after volley of red-not stuff the professor wriggled and twist ed and realized that he had never had real trouble before. Looking through the dim vista of the coming years he could distinctly see himself wearily counting the ties from one town to another, and never again as long as he lived would he gambol over tha state on a free pass, for the railroads had a blacklist and his name was written there. At first the professor denied that he had converted the free transportation Into money, but when confronted with the evidence he collapsed and con • fessed that the financial stringency had made him desperate and he had yielded to the temptation of ready cash. The passing of the professor Is a solemn object lesson to all pass re form pass grabbers. It meana, you can grab, but you cannot sell. The benefits of a free pass Bystem are not a3 far-reaching as they might be. Like all other earthly joys, they have their limitations and their penalties. There may come a time when the re-' form movement will have achieved such sway as to be able to remove these unreasonable restrictions, but at present writing the railroads are hold ing on to this one cinch with a tenac ity which baffles the tremendous reg ulating energy of even the Board of Transportation. A few years ago a pass grabbing politician in Kansas attempted tp make a few hundred dollars by pro curing passes and selling them for one hundred dollars each. If the reform ers now in the state house were al lowed to sell and if they could realize at the Kansas rate on their annuals for 1898, they could roll up a pile of thirty-six thousand dollars. Think of the governor jingling $1,600 in his his pocket, and. Marpt $1,700, for the little secretary Is able to show one more annual pass than any other re former In the state. If the Populist ring at the state house could realize a hundred dollars each for every annual which they pro cure and send out under the state house postage to county sheriffs and county treasurers and their political strikers over the state, they could re tire rich, and they would no longer have reason for the little jealousies which they are now whispering against Bryan because he gave only $1,500 to the national campaign fund while pocketng $150,000 from the com mon people. But, brethren of the reform move ment, as the new year ushers in up on us, let ub be thankful for small fa vors. If we can’t sell ’em, we can ride ’em, for they never get tired, and when the reverberations of this great reform movement shall have died out on these western plains, "end when f-.t last we have junketed the last junket and taken the last farewell view of the red apple country and the rolling plains of Texas; when the names now newly written on these bright paste boards are faded and dim with age. wo can bequeath them as souvenirs to our children, and future generations, looking through the family albums and seeing these tokens of greatness, will realize that there was once a great pass reform and a time when "the common people’’ were in the sad dle . Let us, brethren, be thankful for small favors. These limitations which the corporations still hold over us but serve to remind us that the work of regulating the railroads is not yet complete andithe people’s movement has not yet ranched the full meridian of its glory. These passes which we get for ourselves give us free rides and free beds. Each one that we send out brings us a political crony, who sticks closer than a brother. Our poor relations who hav9 never trav eled before can now plank themselves down in the soft cushions of the new chair car, can gaze out through the plate glass windows on scenery which is new to them, can gather in family reunions that never could have taken place without this reform movement, and the few of us who have more than we can use, although we cannot con vert the surplus into ready cash, yet each clean lettered pasteboard as it nestles sweetly with its companions in the little morocco pocketbook, whis pers softly and tellB us that we have much to be thankful for. There is room for everybody in this big world, but we can’t all have front rooms. AFTER CARL SCHURZ. J CONGRESSMAN CROSVERNOR 'I ON CIVIL SERVICE. ;i Will Not Be Brawn Into Any Entangle* v, ment With the President—His Bmpeeta to lhe Civil Service Lesge Generally aad to Carl Schnra Particularly—CartlsanA -Vs Other High Priests Denounced. - ■ The Hoase Yesterday. ^ WASHINGTON, Jan. 7.—The houm . yesterday promptly resumed he .le- ^ bate on the civil service question, and ’ Mr. Grosvenor, of Ohio, took the floor for an elaborate speech In opposition to the law. In opening Mr. Grosvenor disclaimed any leadership of the anti* civil service reform forces and any purpose to speak for any officer cf the government, executive, lejlslatlve or Judicial. "AH efforts to entangle me in x collision with the president,” he said, “were as so much powder wasted. It A, I believed that my relations to tho president would be changed because I differ with him In any representative : capacity, I would despise him as he ; would despise me If I faltered in my convictions.” Mr. Grosvenor said that he halt 3; watched with admiration the presi dent's public career, and one of hie most prominent characteristics ha:l ' always ben that he not only did not ■ demand subservlencey, but despised ft : > man who sought favors by sycophancy. Mr. Groavenor proceeded to pay hl» I respects to the National Civil Service Reform League and to Carl Schurz. Its president. His excoriation of tb« latter was the most scathing that had been beard on the floor of the house in months. He denounced unspar- | ingly those who sought to read out of the republican party those who believ ed In the repeal of the civil service law. With vltrolic language he de- :l plcited the political career of Mr. Schurz, which he characterized as the ;■ "checkered, spotted, leprous career of • one who betrayed by every party and* * every duty to which he was bound. 1 and whose betrayals have been his only stock In trade In the arena qf poli tics.” J He traced Mr. Schurs’s political hi* tory and defied any one to point out * j \ place in the trail which waa not taint ed with political corruption. Yet, ha said, thlB was the man who, with other “foul political demagogues at Cincinnati, under the nsms of .Na tional Civil Service League, had c"e nounced him and those who thought ■with him on this question.” He read '■ the resolutions adopted at the Clncin- - , nati meeting, branding them as In- . famous beyond description. Grosvenor denounced George Will- , t lam Curtis and other high priests of civil service reform, who, he said, had been traitors to the republican party, v and argued that as Mr. Cleveland ex- v j tended the civil service system enor- ■ mously after the St. Louis platform was adopted, republicans we e not bound by the platform as regirds these extensions. He warned reDuhli- V cans that the people wfre overwhelm- . ’ ingly opposed to the law. Mr. Grosvenor’s description of the habits of the ‘cuckoo’ teemed with 4 humor and .kept the house In a roar. Mr. Grosvenor, in replying to the charge made against himself and hia colleagues that they were betraying the republican party, adverted to what the calls the list of traitors among the high priests of civil service reform, at the head of which he placed George William Curtis, who abandoned the republican party in 1884. He review ed the platform declarations of the republican party to show that the present position occupied by the ma jority of the house was not inconsis tent with these declarations. “For I give the members of the civil service i committee notice,” said he, “that we have a majority on this floor and you cannot strangle a majority in the * American congress.” (Apiause.) He denied that when the St. Louis platform was adopted the extension* contained in the Cleveland order In May, 1896, had been understood. -It was not until November, 189-I, that the enormous scope of that order, cover ing 46,000 officials, was publicly de- ‘ clared. The republicans, coming into ' power on a platform adopted before theso vast extensions, were not in honor bound to ayrej with them, and it was proper that the president should announce in his message to congress that there were portions of these or ders which never ought to have been* made. The Tragedy Near Falrbury. FAIRBURY, Neb., Jan. 7.—William Baker, who killed his brother Georgs' 1 and the latter's wife Tuesday morn ing, completed the triple tragedy by / taking his own life. Bloodhounds were procured as soon as possible and put on the tracks leading from the win dow where the murderer had stood and they followed the trail to a bam on the farm of an uncle of the Bakers, some distance from the scene of ths murder. The posse immediately sur rounded the barn and took every pre caution to prevent the escape of the * murderer but it was an unnecessary procedure. On entering the barn the dead body of William Baker was found, having taken his own life with ' the same weapon with which he*