MAKES HARD WORK
HARDER
A bad back makes a day's work twice
aa hard. Backache usually comes from
. weak kidneys, and if headaches, dizzi
i ness or urinary disorders are added,
doo’t wait—get help before the kidney
disease takes a grip—before dropsv, gra
vel or Bright's disease sets in. Doan's
Kidney Pills have brought new life and
new atrength to thousands of working
men and women. Used and recom
mended the world over.
A CALIFORNIA CASE
Loots 0. Wardwell,
16S0 Pacific Ht., San Ber
nardino, Cal., Bars; “I
had so much pain In my
back I could hardly got
off und on the wagon.
The Jarring 1 got while
riding brought, on the
trouble. The kidney se
cretions were filled with
aedlmont. 1 tried many
remedies, but Doan's
Kidney Pills were the
only one that cured
me. They drove away
all the pnln and latno
ness and fixed my kid
neys up In good shape.”
Get Doan's at Any Store. 50e a Bon
DOAN'S VMV
FOSTER-M1LBUKN CO.. BUFFALO. N. Y.
The Wretchedness
of Constipation
Can quickly be overcome
CARTER’S LITTLE
LIVER PILLS.
Purely vegetable
—act surely and
*ently on the
Over. Cure
Biliousness,
Head
ache,
Dizzi
ness, and Indigestion. They do their duty
SMALL PILL. SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICB
Genuine must bear Signature
FREE TO ALL SUFFERERS.
if you ImTOUT OP SORTS’*RUM DOWN'or'GOT TIIH BLUES'
•UPPER Iran KIDNEY, BLADDER. NERVOUS DISEASES,
•MROMIC WEAK NESSES. ULCERS.SKIN ERUPTIONS. Pll.ail
writ# Utt my FRHI book. THE MOST instructive
IfRUICAi. BOOK EVER WRITTEN.it TELLS ALL about th«9R
THERAPION
Cl It a th« TtBiir for your OWN all went. Don't Mad a cent,
AbsolutelyF R K K. No'fnllowap’clrculari. Dr LeCLERO
Med. Co. Havbjistoce Kd. Hampstead, London, Kna
We Will Pay You $ 120.0C
# distribute religions literature In your comumnltj
days’work. Hzperlence not required Man or wo
brq Opportunity for promotion. Hpare tlraamay b
IMd. ImUrutlanal Bible Press, 1014 Arab ft, Phlladelpki
KEEP-THEIR HEADS STEAD’
Australian Statesman Asserts Worn#
Prevent Conditions of Political
Turbulence
The prime minister of Australli
where the women have suffrage ot
equal term* with men, was Interview
•d while on a visit to London on tb
results of woman suffrage In his coun
try. He Is quoted as saying:
"Women's suffrage steadies politics
feeling. In Democratic countries tui
bulence Is always a danger. Well, li
a time of political excitement mei
will let themselves loose. Womei
won’t. They don’t want hysterlci
They don’t want earthquakes. The|
Are the domestic economists, and the)
have to calculate the needs of theli
households pretty closely every week
This Is why economic questions ar«
more carefully studied now and wh)
you get a steadier, more sober, mor»
wholesome opinion on all question!
connected with the home.’’
Possibly no stronger conclusion can
be deduced from the eleven years’ ex
perience of woman suffrage In Aus
tralia than the fact that Its national
parliament, by unanimous vote, adopt
•ed a resolution declaring its entire
'Success and calling upon the parlia
ment of Great Britain to enfranchise
women.—New York Evening Post.
Too Much of It.
—Mirth reigned laBt night.”
'"Yes, and when I got home my wife
Stormed.”
Wen Met—
A Good
Appetite
And
Post
Toasties
A dainty, nourishing
dish for breakfast, lunch
or supper—ready to serve
direct from the package
s with cream and sugar.
“Toasties” are thin bits
of choice Indian Com—
skilfully cooked and toast
ed to an appetizing golden
f brown.
Wholesome
Nourishing
Easy to Serve
Sold by grocers everywhere.
v_I__y
Wie MINISTER
y POLICE
By HENRY MONTJOY
_CfpHfht. IM2. TW B»M» M.rtffl Ctmymaj.
synopsis.
. “THE MINISTER OF POLICE," by
Henry Mountjoy, la a romance of Faria
during the Louis XV reign, a period when
Europe was In a condition of foment and
unrest: when Voltaire was breaking to
f'ieces the shackles of religion; when
lousseau at the Cafe de Regenance was
preaching the right to think; and when a
thousand men, some in the gutter, some
near the throne, were preparing the great
explosion of the revolution. .
Madame Linden, an Austrian lady,
after completing a simple mission to tne
French country, lingers on in Paris, en
joying the gay life there. De Sartlnes, tn©
minister of police, thinks she has some
other motive than pleasure in delaying
her departure and surrounds her witn
spies to discover, If possible, whether sne
is dabbling in state plots.
De Lussac Is a noble of exceptional
character of that period. Handsome, wun
all the elegance of a man of the ccH„i
there Is still about him something that
stamps him as a man apart, something ox
the visionary, the enthusiast and tne potm
rare in that age of animal lust, chilling
wit and embroidered brutality. He is, u
fact, steeped In the philosophy of Keus**
seau aijd Is trying to hut this
Into practice thr-VOgTi his connection with
a secret society that Is plotting the aown
fall of the state. Before he has gone
enough to Incriminate himself he £allf *n
lovt) with the beautiful Austrian, who per
suades him his method of righting tne
wrongs of humanity is impracticable, ana
ends by promising to go to Vienna wltn
her to live.
As he leaves her house a fellow ron- j
splrator, his chief, Joins him, says several
of their members are arrested, ana en
trusts the secret articles of the association
to him. He then explains to De ^u8?Ji2
that their only hope is to Intimidate the
minister of police. Tills can be accom
plished only by obtaining an incriminat
ing contract signed by the minister of po
lice and In the possession and safe keep
ing of De Richelieu. De Lussac’s cousin.
With this contract In their possession they
can dictate terms to the minister of po
lice, obtain the release of the members
already imprisoned and be safe them
selves.
De Lussac goes home, buries the papers
ho lias just received, writes Madame Lin
den that he Is attempting one last mission
for the society, and also writes an asso
ciate telling him where the papers may he
found In case of his death. Then he en
ters Richelieu’s homo and almost succeeds
In getting the document, but Is surprised
and leaves it in a drawer which he has
unlocked. Before he can make another
attempt he Is arrested and taken to the
Bastile but not before ho has told Madame
Linden how nearly ho succeeded In get
ting the document. She, realizing how
desperate her lover’s position is, visits
Ricnelleu’H homo and succeeds where her
lover has failed.
Meantime the police have secured strong
evidence against her, since De Lussac ad
dressed the letter ho Intended for his fel
low conspirator to ner by mistake. This
letter the police Intercepted and at once
Identified her with the society. However,
with a document In her possession, which,
If made public, will disgrace the minister
of police, she prevents her own arrest by
intimidating the minister of police. Do
Lussac escapes from the bastile and goes
with her to Vienna where the story leaves
them.
CHAPTER IV—(Continued).
“Why, mon Dleu! certainly," crl.ed
the other. “Step In, my dear sir, and
■welcome, thrice welcome. No man
can ever say that Jacques Galllard
ever refused a hand, or a spat in his
carrlace, to the distressed. ’Tls a yel
low carriage—I would that it were
some more respectable color, but ns It
it so let us take It, Just so, and, after
all, what's In color? In a girl, yes; in
a cabriolet, no. Never mind the color.
Vlte, cocher! for my friend In black
has to reach Paris by 7:30.”
"Eight,” said De Maupeou, wonder
ing at his companion’s ease and af
fluence of language, while the cab
riolet started, leaving tho coachman to
do what he could with the broken
carriage In the roadway.
“Eight?” said Galllard. “Well, it
does not much matter.”
Ho dlvpd his hand beneath the seat
and brought out a bottle, proffered it
to his companion, who refused it, took
a gulp himself and returned it to its
place.
“Yes, monsieur,” said Galllard, as
though continuing a conversation, “one
doesn't get married every day; that Is
to say, one doesn't make a fool of
oneself every day. You understand me
perfectly?”
"Ah!” said De Maupeou, perceiving
In a flash that Ills companion was not
only drunk but very drunk. "Monsieur
then hus been married today?"
"Mai fol, yea," replied Galllard,
making another dive at the bottle as if
for comfort.
“And where, may I ask. is madem?"
inquired the incautious De Maupeou.
"Madem?” said Giallard, corking th.e
bottle and replacing It. “Madame?"
Then, us though the question had sud
denly reached his understanding.
“Mon Dleu! where Is she?" He glanced
around him as lr looking for the ab
sent one; then he began shouting to
the coachman to stop.
Tho vehicle drew up.
"Madame?" cried the coachman.
"How can I say? I picked you up at
the Couronne, you and your bottle.
You have lost her? Well, that is not
my fault."
Galllard. to the alarm of Do Maupe
ou, Instead of replying to this, strug
gled out of the cabriolet and stood
looking about him, up and down the
road and across the fields, as If in
search of his missing partner.
“She's gone,” said he, “but the ques
tion remains, where did I leave her?
We must return; that Is the only thing
to be done, decidedly."
Do Maupeou, who had clambered
out and was standing on the road be
side this desirable husband, held up a
piece of gold to the coachman, unob
served by his companion.
“And what about this gentleman who
wishes to go to Paris?" asked the
coachman.
“He can come back and have a drink
at the Couronne," replied Galllard.
"Then when I have found my wife we
can all go to Paris and have a pleas
ant evening."
“Monsieur" cried De Maupeou, “what
you say Is Impossible. It Is Impera
tive that I should reach Paris by half
past eight."
He was furious now, not only at the
delay, but at his own position: the
vice chancellor of Prance arguing w ith
a drunken stranger on the highroad; a
nice affair, truly, should it come to the
ears of the court.
"Ah!" said Galllard, his fuddled wits
seeming to clear. “I see It all now!
You are both of you In league against
me. How do I know you haven't sto
len my wife, got her away from
and now you are taking her to Paris?”
The coachman, at this, got down
from his seat, furious at the implica
tion, and a battle royal of tongues en
sued, whl e the unfortunate De Maupe
ou, watch In hand, stood by like the
timekeeper of a boxing bout, trying to
make peace and failing.
They had lost 10 minutes already,
and the vice chancellor was in despair
when, from the direction of Versailles,
he saw a vehicle approaching. It was
the Paris diligence. ♦
"Ah!" said he. “Here Is the dili
gence. I will take It.”
The words acted like a charm. The
coachman climbed to his seat again
and Gaillard, seeming to forget his
wife, took De Maupeou by the arm.
“Get In. monsieur.” said he. “I have
lost my wife. No matter. I will find
her again, and we can have a drink
at Paris. Wives are easily found. Be
sides, she may have gone on to her
mother, who lives in the Rue de Ben
dy; and I have a bottle In the cabrio
let.”
De Maupeou hesitated between the
choice of Gaillard. who was undesir
able, and the diligence, which was no
vehicle for the first magistrate of
France to be found In. He chose Gall
lard, stepped Into the cabriolet, and
was lost.
For several miles they proceeded at
a rapid pace, and Gaillard, forget
ting his wife, forgetting his grievances,
forgetting everything but conviviality,
applied himself to the bottle and under
Its charms sang songs of a free and
volatile nature, and presently, losing
Interest in music, fell asleep.
The horse, as though in sympathy
with the wearied reveler, slackened Its
pace, and the Paris diligence, which
had been following them and taking
their dust, passed them with a tinkling
of bells and a cry of derision from the
driver.
De Maupeou looked at his watch. It
was after eight. He shouted to thg
driver to hasten his speed and that in
dividual replied through the dusk that
was now gathering, and whipped up his
horse.
fl’Vlft I ,, .. . . «
a mile and then slackened gain, de
spito the apparent efforts of the dri
ver, so that when the toll gate was
reached and DeMaupeou looked at his
watch he found that it pointed to 20
minutes past 8.
The vehicle stopped at the toll gate
and the sergeant on duty came to the
window with a lantern. The lantern
was for the examination of the inter
ior of the cabriolet, for it was not yet
dark and De Maupeou could see the
sergeant's face clearly in the dusk.
Galllard, who had suddenly wakened
from his sleep, put his hand under the
seat for his bottle, and pulled out In
stead a dead fowl, which he hastily
stuffed back.
But the sergeant had seen him.
In a moment Do Maupeou and his
companion were hauled from the coach
and the sergeant, diving under the seat,
gave a cry like the cry of a hound.
The compartment beneath the seat
was stuffed with contraband!
It seemed to the luckless vice chan
cellor that he was in the midst of a
nightmare; dumb at his abominable
position and not daring to give ^his
name before all the guards and those
loafers who hung around the toll gates
of Paris, he lot himself bo led into the
guard room, which was fortunately
empty, and where he took his seat on
the bench beside Galllard, whose
drunkenness had again descended on
him like a veil, and who now, relieved
from the clutches of the soldiers, sank
into a condition of complete oblivion,
despite the fact that while being led
past the sergeant he had in a perfect
ly wide awake manner contrived to slip
into the hands of the latter a piece of
paper containing a short paper signed
"Rappelier.”
Do Maupeou, unable for a moment to
think or form a plan, looked at his
watch. It pointed to 8:30.
Th,e sergeant and the soldiery did
not know him by sight; these men of
the guard houses had nothing to do
with the law courts or the palaces,
and tho paper of Rappelier disclosed
nothing, containing only a direction
that neither Galllard nor his com
panion were smugglers, but that they
were to be held In custody till 10
o'clock and then discharged, and the
whole affair reported to Monsieur de
Sartlnes.
Galllard, let us say at once, was Mon
sieur Marmortal, that plainclothes
agent of tho palace police whose
humor and resource in the case of the
mysterious Mademoiselle M. form such
an amusing chapter In the memoirs of
Mensieur do Condamine.
CHAPTER V.
hats and Compliments.
While De Sartlnes was getting into
his carriage at Versailles and De Mau
P.cou was preparing to take leave of
the king and the Comtesse du Barry,
Madame Linden, standing in the draw
ing room of No. 12 Rue Coq Heron,
was putting tho last touch to her
preparations for the evening.
This drawing room, which opened
out of the boudoir, was a large apart
ment hung with yellow silk curtains
and a tapestry representing the doings
of Samson. The tapestry, which had
belonged to a country house of Mon
sieur Gorges, the landlord, was a bit
too big for the drawing room of No.
12 Rue Coq Heron; a scene had to be
cut out to make it fit, and tho scene
chosen by Monsieur Gorges for ex
cision, chiefly on account of its ex
treme freedom of treatment, was the
scene depicting the doings of the
strong man with Delilah, or rather, one
should say, h,er doings with him.
“Everything is packed, Rosine?"
asked madame as she contemplated tho
room with satisfaction.
"Everything, madame.”
"Monsieur Behrens will be here at
8 with my dresses and hats; the
dresses will remain downstairs ready
to be taken to tho carriage, but the
boxes containing the hats must be
brought up here. I wish to examine
them. Show Monsieur Behrens up
here when he com.es.”
"Yes, madame."
"Mon Dieu!” murmured the baron
ess. "How shall I ever find room for
all those hat boxes in the carriage?
They will have to go inside. Tho rest
of the luggage con go on top."
"Yes, madame."
“That will do, then."
Rosine left the room, and Madame
Linden sat down on a sofa, folded her
hands, and fell into meditation. Direct
ly De Sartlnes arrived she would re
quire him to order the release of the
comte, dispatch a messenger to the
hostile and have him brought directly
to the Rue Coq Heron. After that she
would use Monsieur de Sartlnes as
he hud used her, and worse; she would
play with him as- a cat plays with a
mouse; she would bring him to the
edge of that bottomless pit. De Mau
peo, and let him look in; then she
would let him go—perhaps.
She was not sure of herself yet, or
whether the man's ruin or abasement
would please her moet. While thinking
these thoughts a chilly Idea suddenly
crossed her mind.
Wes it possible for De Sartines to or
der the release of De Lussac? Had an
order of release, like an order of im
prisonment, to be signed by the king?
If this were so, the harmony of her
plan would be spoiled; she would have
to wait till the morrow for the comte’a
release.
She was considering this point when
the sound of the bell below made her
start. She listened. Steps sounded on
the stairs, leaving the drawing-room,
she entered the boudoir.
Scarcely had she done so when the
door of the boudoir opened and she
found herself face to face with De Lus
sac.
De Lussac, when he left the house of
Jean Jacques Rousseau, found that the
evening was much lighter than he ex
pected. Rousseau’s house with its nar
row dusty windows and atmosphere of
age and gloom was almost in darkness,
but the Rue Plastriere was fully light
ed. With a few francs, which he bor
rowed from the philospher, he hired
a passing cabriolet which set him down
at the corner of the Rue Peysette.
He had now no fear of compromising
the woman he loved by going to her
house, knowing as he did the weapon
she held against his enemies.
For a second they stood, he at the
door, she in the middle of the room, as
if doubting each other's exist»nce; the
next, she was in his arms.
"You are free!”
“I am free, mordieu; yes, I am free.”
He led her to a couch. "Free, unless
they catch me again. They arrested
me when I left your house yesterday,
and I broke out of the Bastile today
disguised as my kinsman, De Richelieu.
But before I tell of myself, tell me of
what you have done. Ah, I know! I
have heard of your devotion, but tell
me of it with your own lips. You have
the document?”
She laughed. “Yes, and a frightful
price I had to pay for it.”
“You—”
"I had to kiss Monsieur de Rich
elieu.”
“You are forgiven,” laughed De Las*
sac.
“I let him embrace me.”
“You are forgiven."
"I promised him—”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“But tell me—”
"Tell me first, my friend, your ad
Vfintnrps’ mlno o ro ♦ Vn* n,,4
a woman whose only weapons were a
kiss and a promise, scarcely worth re
counting. Tell me.”
He told her briefly but graphically;
told her of the prison he had escaped
from and its horrors; of De Richelieu,
whom he had left half strangled on
the bed; of Beauregard, whom he had
left half dead in the wood-yard; of the
agent of police whom he had felled,
the carriage he had stolen, and o|
Rousseau, with whom he had sought
shelter.
Like Rousseau, as she listened she
could scarcely believe that the elegant
De Lassac, this poet and dreamer, was
the man who had done these things.
"So,” said she when he had finished,
“you are still pursued?”
De Lussac laughed. "By my faith,
yes. Not that I care now that, thanks
to you, we have De Sartlnes in our
power.”
“My friend,” said she, "till the game
is finished one never knows the end
ing. Should De Sartlnes free himselt
by some master-stroke, you would be
lost and in a worse position than be
fore, because your treatment of the
Due De Richelieu would be held
against you; and should Monsieur
Beauregard die, which God forbid, they
would perhaps exact your life as pay
ment for his.
“Attend to me. When I start for
Vienna tonight you must accompany
me on the box-seat of my carriage.
Monsieur Gorges, my landlord, from
whom I rented this house, has left in
the lumber room, among other things,
some clothes that belonged to his
lackeys. Rosine will show you tho
room. Disguise yourself, then go to
Vaudrin, the livery-stable keeper in
the Rue de la Harpe, ask to see the
traveling-carriage that is tth call for
mo here at ten o’clock; examine it as
a good servant should; test the springs;
see that the axles are faultless; and
when the hour comes, arrive, on the
box. My poor Armand, you must be
content to be my servant till we ar
rive at Vienna."
"I shall be your servant till I die.”
“Yes, but not my lackey—”
As she spoke the clock on the man
tel struck eight. She rang the bell for
Rosine.
"Now you must go, and we shall not
meet again ti)l you open the carriage
door for me at ten o’clock. There is
Rosine; go, my friend, for I am expect
ing Monsieur de Sartlnes."
"Monsieur de Sartlnes?”
“Yes, and Monsieur de Maupeou, and
Madame de Stenlis, and several other
brilliant people who are much dimmer
since I have had to deal with them. Till
ten o'clock, then.”
De Lussac kissed her hand.
What plan she was about to execute
he did not know, but he felt vaguely
uneasy, knowing as he did her spirit,
her hatred of the minister of police,
and the latter’s power and capacity for
trickery.
He left the room, following Rosine,
f.nd Madame Linden, passing into the
drawing-room, sat down to await
events.
(Continued next week.)
A Fair Exchange.
From the Saturday Evening Post.
Electricity has now been taught the ac
complishment, which many people never
can learn, of not bothering a person if he
Is busy. It is in telephone systems that
this new ability has proven most useful
so far. A concern may have a dozen tele
phone trunk lines to accommodate Its in
coming calls, because they are so numer
ous. with several clerks to attend to the
calls, and the new device will automati
cally take any Incoming call and give it
to one of the clerks who is not busy, and
do it without bothering operators who are
already answering culls. A selective ap
paratus takes the call, and ti tes out one
wire after another until it finds one that
is not busy, and then turns the call in on
that wire.
The whole operations of trying nut the
various wires takes only a fraction of a
second and does not interrupt conversa
tion on any of the busy lines.
The principal application of the idea at
present is to distribute the work fairly
among the girls of a telephone exchange.
When a persons calls up central by tak
ing the telephone receiver off the hook,
the selector at the central exchange runs
over the switchboards operated by the
different girls until 't finds some girl who
has no other calls to attend to. A refine
ment makes tt possible for the selectors
' to allow each girl two calls to attend tc
all the time.
Thus If a girl Is actually attending to
one call, and the selector finds that sh«
is but that she has had no other calls
waiting, the selector will turn the call In
to her so that she will have one awaiting
her attention the Instant that she com
pletes the connection she is then giving.
Compact Interest Reckoner.
A Hungarian has invented an instru.
nient that shows Instantly the amount ol
j Interest on any sum for any period at any
rate of Interest. All that Is necessary to
, operate the Instrument, which Is of sim
ple construction, about the size and shape
of a watch, Is to place the hands In tht
proper position on the dial. The exact
amount of Interest Is given on the face ol
the instrument. It Is said to be Inex
pensive, The Inventor has applied foi
, an American patant
ATROCITIES IN MEXICO
TO FORCE INTERVENTION
Newspaper Correspondent Who
Has Been on Field, Tells In
teresting Story.
THINK U. S. IS AFRAID
From the Sioux City Tribune.
Atrocities such as would shock the
civilized world were the details fully
known are dally being committed in
Mexico, according to an American
newspaperman who has Just arrived
here from the border, after many des
perate experiences. Inhumanity in the
southern republic is rampant, he said,
in an interview with a Tribune reporter
this morning, and added that the lives
of Americans are in constant danger
from both rebel and federal soldiers,
as well as from many bands of rob
bers parading under the guise of sol
diers.
That the Mexicans are fighting for
loot, instead of liberty; that they have
as their main object three meals a day;
that American intervention is certain
within two or three months, and that
it will require 250,000 men and take
at least two years to whip Mexico,
were other opinions expressed by the
visitor, who has been along the Rio
Grande and deep into the distraught
country for the past six months. Here
are some of his opinions:
"Mexicans have the same fatal Ideas
that all Latin people have concerning
the power and vastness of the United
States. At the beginning of the Span
ish-America war General Blanco, in
command of the Spanish troops In
Cuba, made the absurd statement that
he would land 50,000 men at Tampa,
Fla., and march to St. Louis in 48
hours, when the poor, deluded fellow
could not have gotten there personally
in 48 hours, even if he had taken a
mile-a-minute train.
Barbarous Yaquis.
"Conditions in Mexico are so terrible
that the average American living away
from the border cannot understand the
horror of the situation. Mercy is a
word unkown in that country, and
especially is this true, where the
Yaqui’s live. They are gentle people—•
these Yaqui Indians. All they do to
prisoners they don't like would fill a
volume that would make the story of
the Spanish inquisition tame read.
"First the victim is stripped and the
outer cuticle of his arms, legs, back and
stomach is peeled off. The bleeding in
ner cuticle is then packed with salt and
the flesh that has been removed is tied
in place with fiber strings taken from
the cactus plants that abound in that
country. The prisoner, writhing in
agony, Is then made to run the gauntlet
over the cactus plants.
"When he can afford no more amuse
ment on foot his captors stake him
over the entrance hole of the huge hills
built by red ants, some of the insects
growing to an inch and a half in length.
They gleefully dance around him as he
twitches in agony, and when he be
comes unconscious they push him over
a cliff and speculate on the time it will
take for his body to reach the rocks
below.
"Savagery, such as this, cannot be
charged to the "regular” rebel troops,
or to the federals. but they have about
the same ideas of cruelty as that pos
sessed by the Yaquis. For instance,
witness the shooting, a few months ago,
of Immigration Officer Dixon, at Juar
ez. across the river from El Paso. He
was not given a chance, although in the
Mexican city on United States govern
ment business. Not far south of El
Paso, an American woman was re
cently shot at three times by a federal
officer. He did not intend to kill or
wound her, but simply wanted to tor
ture her. She was waiting for a train
to take her across the border.
"Instances, of this kind, Illustrating
the truth of the statement that Mexi
co and Mexicans are not afraid of the
United States, are frequently occur
ring.”
Mexico Hard to Conquer.
Asked his opinion as to the number
of men it will take to whip Mexico, the
correspondent continued:
“Whipping and conquering Mexico
are two things. If the army of inter
vention, which I believe will shortly
enter the southern republic, could get
in front of all the troops, Huerta and
the rebels, who will undoubtedly com
bine with the Federals against us,
could assemble, the fight would be over
within 48 hours. However, Mexico, is
a country of mountains as well as
plains, and once we go across, the ene
my will immediately retire into the
canons or fortify themselves upon the
cliffs. "It may be remembered that it
took the United States two years to
whip Mexico in '48, when practically
every man in the army had been under
fire and was an expert shot on account
of years of Indian fighting. While at
present we have the best fed, best
clothed, best paid and best treated
army in the world; comparatively few
of our soldiers have been under fire
and one man who has faced fchot and
shell Is worth, in the first clash, 50
men who have never smelled powder.
In case of war it will be necessary to
protect a long line of communication
that will constantly be attacked by de
tached bands of the enemy, so that
the estimate of 250,000 men. in case
this country decides to send its forces
across the border, is not too large, es
pecially when the fact is taken into
consideration that nearly a 1.000 miles
must be protected between El Paso and
Mexico City.
“Slowly the United States is getting
into a position for a scrap. When
Woodrow Wilson went into the presi
dent's chair he found this country Just
as unprepared for war as it was four
years before. That was on account
of President Taft's world-wide peace
policy, upon which he based all of his
hope for glory upon the pages of his
tory. It would have been very incon
sistent for him to have asked congress
for appropriations for additional war
supplies, while advocating universal
peace. Hence, the country’s unpre
paredness.
"Then, there must, be taken into con
sideration the internal condition of the
country. The tariff and currency
questions, must be decided before this
government can take drastic action on
any foreign subject. Furthermore, it
would have been foolish to order troops
into Mexico during the hot months,
even if the United States was prepared
foi a war. It will doubtless surprise
many people to learn that there are
about 20,000,000 people down there, or
a tilth of the population of this coun
try.
Panama Canal Is Factor.
“There is another phase of the situ
ation of which the average man does
not think when lie condemns what he
thinks is inexcusable Inaction on the
part of the government. That is the
fact that the Panama canal is not com
pleted and that if Japan, or any other
foreign nation, has the slightest hope
of whipping the Unted States, that
hope will be gone after the big ditch
is finished. Hence, the best time to at
tack us Is right now. Statesmen from
foreign countries are agreed that, soon
er later, this nation must battle with
both Germany and Japan. This asser
tion has been made that the latter
country Is too poverty stricken to fight
America, but It will be a very easy
matter for the German empire to loan
Japan money through the Krupp gun
interests, which are allied so closely
with that country.
“For many years German commer
cial agents in South America have been
trying to instill into the people upon
that continent the idea that the United
States is an enemy to their Interests
and the day American troops cross the
Rio Grande they will point to that fact
as conclusive proof. Our country
stands to lose hundreds of millions o!
dollars in the southern continent as a
result of intervention in Mexico, ana
it will take at least a century to dis
sipate the idea that we are not de
sirous of annexing all of the countries
to the south.”
Questioned as to personal experi
ences, the correspondent continued:
“There is not a newspaper man on
the border who has not had practically
the same experiences that have been
mine, for all of us have gone through
hardships untold to the general public.
So far, three newspaper men have been
killed in Mexico, because they would
not submit to the dictation of federal
or rebel commanders. General Inea
Salazar thought he would add anothei
victim to the list of correspondent!
who have met their death by “official'
execution or treachery, when he ord
ered me bound and shot, because I re
sented his aspersions on the bravery
of Americans and also refused to giv!
him information concerning the where
abouts of federal troops, with whos!
position he knew I was familiar. I*
company with George Clemments, of
the New York American, and severa)
other newspaper men, 1 Interviewed
Salazar at Le Ascensclon, near El Paso,
Surrounding him were several hundred
of his motley horde, called 'soldiers.'
‘General Salazar.' I asked, ’do you
think the United States will interven!
in Mexico?’
Yankee Rats.
General Salazar Is a big man—■
very big man. He stands 6 feet. 4
Inched In helghth and Is built east and
west according to his dimensions north
and south. Looking down at me, with
contempt spread over his countenance,
he roared:
" ‘Intervene In Mexico? No, yon
Yankee rat, your country will never
Intervene in Mexico. We've spit In
your faces and Insulted your women,
and my God, If that won’t make you
fight, what will make you fight?’
"Like a consummate fool I sprang
toward Salazar, was grabbed by three
of his bodyguard and my hands were
tied behind me. The orders ‘ready,*
‘aim,* were given, when Mr. Clemments
interceded with General Salazar, who
consented to spare my life if I would
apologize for resenting his Insult and
also tell what I knew about the posi
tion of the enemy. Clemments Is a
personal friend of Salazar and I lay
the fact that I am In Sioux City today
to his Intercession in my behalf. It
would take volumes to relate all of the
experiences I have had on the border
and below, but what I have told you
will serve as an Illustration.
"Americans, who understand the sit
uation In Mexico, are considerably
peeved at the reports that the mining
and ranch interests are behind a so
called ‘jingo’ campaign to bring about
Intervention. If there was ever a class
of men opposed to the entrance of Uni
ted States troops in Mexico, it Is made
up of these very men who are proper
ty holders there. They are paying
tribute, it is true, to both federal and
rebel troops, but they would far rath
er do this than instigate a war with
the United States, which they know
will not end for at least two years, and
during that period their property would
be totally destroyed by the forces that
will be sure to combine against this
country.
"Americans, who have closely stud
ied the situation, are looking for trou
ble about the last of November,” the
correspondent concluded.
Still Going Around.
From the National Monthly.
Last year I did not want to em
barrass my best girl to make her pro
pose to me, so asked her to be my
wife, and she said. "I ■would rather
be excused,*’ and I like an Idiot ex
cused her. But I got even with the
girl. I married her mother. Then my
father married the girl. Now, I don’t
know who I am.
When I married the girl’s mother,
the girl became my daughter, ana
when my father married my daugh
ter he is my son. When my father
married my daughter, she was my
mother. If my father Is my son, and
my daughter Is my mother, who In
the thunder am I? My mother’*
mother (which is my wife) must be
my grandmother, and I being my
grandmother’s husband, I am my own
grandfather.
The Three Branches.
From the Kansas City Times.
Senator Galllnger Is one of those ol4
fashioned persons who still believe In the
three co-ordinate branches of the gov
ernment—the protected Interests, the Bps'
rial interests and the United States Sen
ate.
WIFE OF GOVERNOR
OF THE CANAL ZONE
MRS. RICHARD LEE METCALFE.
Mrs. Richard Lee Metcalfe, wife of
the new governor of the Panama canal
lone, Is now at Ancon, Panama,
where they will make their official
home.
The family have made their home in
Lincoln, Neb., where Mr. Metcalfe waa
the editor of William J. Bryan's news
paper.