el_r.. - — ■■■ - .-—
The Man Who Forgot
^ A NOVEL
By JAMES ITAY, JR.
GARDEN CITY NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
1915
CHAPTER XXXTU—(Continued.)
As he passed, the crowds oil the
sidewalks became storming, roar
ing, frantic lines of white. Rib
bons and handkerchiefs filled the
air. It was as if, at his coming,
the sea of humanity on each side
rose toward him like the white
crest of a wave. As far as he could
see the avenue was fringed to |
right and left with the rising and
falling soliil lines of white. The
tumult of the applause was like
the roar of the sea. To his ears
the roar of the men’s voices domi
nated, and now and then the shrill
bravos of the women cut through
tiie heavier tone.
They cheered him because he
had done a great thing. He had
called the country to Washington,
and it had come. They felt this
felt, even, that he had called each
one of them personally, and that,
while their great motive had been
ttair hate of whisky, his voice had
been the one to unite them. They
had secured their places to look at
him, and would fall in lines as the
procession passed them.
Every few yards he bowed to
right and to left, his clean-cut,
Wiry figure bending gracefully
from the waist. Now and then,
passing a high building whose
Windows swarmed with humanity,
be waved his gauntleted hand. lie
Was smiling, and, somehow, so vi
brant was his spirit, so intense his
emotion, that the men and women,
who-lined the pavements persuad
ed themselves that lie smiled at
each of them in turn. There was
about him nothing of theatric.
He rode down that long lane of
thundering applause, a strong
Cian, a brilliant personality, doing
simply well the thing lie had
planned to do, carrying to fruit
ion the great dream that had been
bis—the dream at which many
had sneered at first, the dream
which millions now loved.
Twenty yards behind him were
the two bishops in a carriage, and
behind them five hundred little
girls in white. After that came
the apparently endless line of
inarching men and women— the
singing clubs, delegations from
various states, companies of men,
troops of women. And, when the
end of the line came, all those who
had stood on the sidewalks fell in.
He led them to the right of the
peace monument and up the road
way on the right hand side of the
capitol, halting on the east plaza.
So nicely had the thing been
planned that the marches from
North Capitol street flowed into
the grounds on tho west front as
the agitator’b division had occu
pied the east plaza and the sur
rounding territory. Those from
the east joined the agitator, and
Ihosc from the south went to the
west of the grounds.
On the east side a great band
played hymns, and the people
sang. On the west side a singing
elub sang “My Country, 'Tis of
Thee.” Back farther, on the ed
ges of the crowd, other hands
played.
The agitator dismounted on the
plaza, and, going back to the car
riage, escorted the two bishops to
the top of the east steps on the
House end of the building. There,
at the front of the stand, among
senators, representatives, and men
and women who had spent years,
some of them a lifetime, in the
fight for prohibition, the vener
able Bishop Rcxall took his seat.
Smith, leaving him, went with
Bishop Fraydon through the
building to the west front.
There were to be no speeches.
“On that day,” Smith had said
weeks before, “we will pray to
God and command congress.”
There was no program, save the
bishops were to offer prayer, and
the people were to sing and tc
stand there, a commanding army
enveloping the home of the gov
eminent, until they saw the sigi;
that what they' asked had beet
granted. The sign to be the run
ning of a huge white ribbon to the
top of the flagpost over the House
end of the building.
In the line that followed Smith
a fat man had ridden alone in s
carriage. It was Vetter.
He was far enough to the froth
to catch the thunder of applause
that greeted Smith and to watcl
the glow the leader’s passing hac
I
23
left in the faces of the thousands
,on the sidewalks. There was up
on his face, also, a glow.
“ Ilow they love him!” he
thought, ‘‘it is wortli living to
have seen this.”
lie, like the others, loved him.
That was, he reflected, the secret
of the agitator’s great gift of
leadership. The man’s spirit had
reached out and charmed a na
tion.
CHAPTER XXIX.
John Smith paced to and fro
in Crawdlor’s committee rooms.
After escorting Bishop Fraydon
to Ihe west side of the capitol, he
had gone back into the building,
and, taking an elevator, had
reached the subway that leads
from the capital proper to the
building occupied by -the offices
and committee rooms of most of
the representatives. Walker, who
had been close to him ever since
he had arrived at the east plaza,
had protested.
“No,” the agitator had an
swered, “this is the proper thing
to do. This is a demonstration
of the strength of prohibition sen
timent in this country. There are
friends of mine in the crowd. In
their excitement some of them
might be tempted to try to make
it a personal triumph of mine.
That would not do. You know it
wouldn’t.”
For that reason he had effaced
himself from the scene.
The room in which he waited
the result Crawlor’s motion to
have the House pass the national
prohibition measure faced the in
ner court of the big building from
the first floor on the south side. lie
had opened one of the big win
dows and, even at that distance,
with the other side of the huge
structure towering between him
and the vast throng, he could hear
faintly the bands and the sing
ing. There was upon his face a
shadow of the smite he had worn
while riding down the avenue. He
felt nothing but supreme confi
dence in the outcome. The weari
ness he had known for the past few
days had fallen from him. He was
at his best, brave, brilliant, tuned
to the top of his wonderful ener
gy^
Suddenly the singing and the
music of the bands stopped as if
the great voluinn of uoise had
beep cut by the stroke of u knife.
He knew what that meant, the
dead silence. Crawlor had risen
at his place in the House and put
the motion, and, at a signal, the
two bishops, holding tjieir hands
aloft, had begun their prayers for
its passage.
He stood by the window- silence
all about him save for the plash
dug of the big fountain in the cen
ter of the courtyard. He know,
as well as if he had seen it, the
tremendous effectiveness of those
prayers—the bared heads of the
thousands of men, the bowed
heads of the thousands of women,
the quiet of the children.
The singing began afresh.
He stood and watched the foun
tain, a tall column of water moved
slowly by the breeze until it
looked like a big, new flower
hanging in the air. He thought
cf the figure of a woman swaying
in a doorway like a reed moved by
the flow of cold and heavy wat
ers. Whore was she at that mo
ment 1 How had it gone with hert
He wondered if there was in her
hear one-half the fierce hunger for
love that he felt. He had not seen
her since that day in her home
when the Leslie woman had told
her story. But he knew that she
waited for him, expected to see
him that evening. Walter had
brought him that message from
her.
And yet, there was the immut
able fact: lie could not claim her,
had nc right to permit her to come
him. When could he throw off the
ehaims that bound hunt Would
he eveh know his own past! His
thoughts went to Vetter. Yes; he
would go back to Vetter at once
and take up again the weary
heart breaking work of trying tc
find something, some light, how
ever faint, to pierce the darkness
behind him. If only Vetter eould
He threw back his shoulders
with a swift movement and looked
up to the blue sky and laughed.
—
“Vetter can! he said to him
s<lf. “Vetter must! Vetter will!
It will come right! It must.”
The corridor door was flung
open, and Waller rushed in. En
thusiasm at last had him by the
throat. He even had forgotten
his cane.
“Old man,” he shouted, “it's
| marvellous, immense! I never
sa\f anything like it. You’ve got
‘era—got ‘cm sure!”
“Give me the news,” Smith de
manded swiftly.
“They’ve just started to call the
roll.”
“How was Crawdlor? Was he
very effective?”
“You bet lie was! He stood
up, tall, powerful looking, pale
with excitement.
“ ‘Mr. Speaker,’ he said, ‘I rise
to offer a privileged motion.’
“ ‘The gentleman will state it,,’
said the speaker.
“ ‘Mr. Speaker,’ Crawdlor came
back amid a stillness throughout
the House that was spooky, ‘I
move that the committee on
amendments to the constitution be
discharged from further consider
ation of the resolution providing
for an emendment to the federal
constitution lor nation wide pro
hibition in the United States, and
that the House, without further
delay, proceed to vote on my mo
tion to pass the resolution.’
“lie said that in a way which
foretold victory. He said it in such
a way that everybody went raving,
stark mad. In the galleries and on
the floor you could hear the rebel
yell, the Yankee yell, and every
other kind of a yell. Members and
spectators had hysteria. Men were
pounding each other on the back.
You couldn't hear the speaker’s
gavel. Some of the women in the
galleries were screaming. Men
stood up and shrieked without
knowing that they were shrieking.
It took 20 minutes to quiet the
members and the galleries. The
thing showed, once and for all,
whether people hate whisky.”
Smith drew a deep breath.
“It must have been very fine,”
he said, something like reverence
in his voice.
“And all those thousands and
thousands of people on tin; out
side!” Waller’s dramatic descrip
tion rushed on. “You couldn’t see
them, and you couldn’t hear much
more than a whisper from them,
there in the chamber of the House.
Hut their spirit was there. And it
was a highty thing. It was as if
they reached out and touched con
gress with their hands. You were
right when you said they would
pray to God and command con
gress. That’s what they did. That
is what they are doing now—mak
ing the House of Representatives
adopt that Crawdlor motion!”
“How long will it take to call
the roll, to get the complete
vote ? ’ ’
About 40 to f)0 minutes. But
it's a foregone conclusion. We’ve
won. We’ve won, I tell you!”
Waller slapped him on the back.
“I know we have. I knew’ wc
would,” Smith said quietly.
“Yi j,” Waller agreed. “That’s
what got me th»* first time I talked
to you. You knew this thing
would win. By George, you’re a
wonder! ’ ’
Smith looked at him a moment
a little wistfully.
“Am I?” he asked.
Waller knew he referred to the
Leslie woman’s story, which, al
though it had not hurt him in the
fight for prohibition, remained as
an obstruction which he could not
put out of the path of his happi
ness without regaining his mem
ory.
“You’ll beat that, too!” the
writer assured him. “Why, you
can beat anything!” His tone
changed. “I wish I could find that
blushing rose, that uncalloused
conscience, that perfect man, the
Simpson individual. He knows
about you.”
Smith, ignoring that suggestion,
asked:
‘ ‘ Have you seen Miss Mallon to
day?”
“Yes,” Waller replied a little
reluctantly.
Smith noticed the hesitation.
“What is it?” he inquired
quickly.
“Well, to tell you the truth, I
think she’s hiding around some
where, waiting to be the first to
congratulate you when the vote is
announced.
“In this building?”
“I believe so.”
“What room?”
Waller laughed.
“Say, now,” he protested;
“don’t pump me any more. I re
fuse to disclose a woman’s plans.
Besides, what’s the use? She’s so
apt to change them, you know. ’ ’
The corridor door opened again,
this time to admit Senator Mallon.
“May I come in?” he asked,
hesitating.
“Certainly,” the agitator in
vited him.
Waller turned to Smith. *
“I'm going back to the press
gallery. I’ll come back with the
figures on the vote.”
He rushed out, leaving the door
open. Smith could hear his foot
falls far down the corridor as he
ran.
The senator came farther into
the room.
“Mr. Smith, good afternoon,”
he said, speaking with difficulty,
even diffidence.
“How do you do Senator?”
Smith answered him coolly.
“I have come,” Mallon went on,
“to thank you, if you will permit
me.”
“To thank me? For what?”
“For your unusual generosity.”
The senator was beginning to
strike his ordinary, suave conver
sational pace. “For the past week
Washington has been crazy, abso
lutely crazy, about this whisky
business. Several men have had
their careers cut short by being
identified with the whisky inter
ests. I—I have to thank you for
my escape.”
“No,” Smith corrected him, his
voice still cool. “You have your
daughter to thank.”
■ “At any rate, I felt that I must
come to express my gratitude—to
you.” |
“ Was it gratitude, senator,” the
agitator asked, his tone tinged by
contempt, “or was it fear?”'
He made a swift, deprecatory j
bow, and added: “I should not j
have said that to Miss Mallon’s
father.” i
The senator bowed.
“Politics is polities,” he said
smoothly. “The great trouble
about whisky is that there isn’t
anything you can say in favor of
it in a stump speech.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“And I’ve got political sense
enough to know that no man who
wants to stay in polities can vote
against your prohibition people
any longer.”
“You mean,” Smith asked in
surprise, “that you’ve come over
to us?”
“I mean I’ve been driven over
to you,” the old man explained.
“Every big thing bus two kinds of
men on its side—those who vote
from conviction and those who
vote from fear. You were right
just now. Mine is one of the ‘fear
votes ’. ’ ’
“ But the country will know the
difference.”
“The country’s too busy to
bother much about motives,” Mal
lon gave it as his opinion. “What
the country wants is results.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about
it in a thing of this kind, because
_> t
“Oh, well,” the senator inter
rupted, “that will have to take
care of itself. After the Senate
does what the House is doing now,
and the resolution has passed both
bodies, it will have to be ratified
by the legislatures of 36 states.
When the tight is made in my
state—if there is any fight—you'll
find me with you. That’s all there
is to that.” He hesitated a mo
ment. “There’s something else I
wanted to speak to you about.”
“What is it?”
“Confound it all!” he ex
ploded, “I wish you’d tell me who
yoi3 are. I wish to thunder I knew
what it is you’ve done.”
Smith gave him a long, sharp
look.
“Senator,” he said earnestly,
“I don’t know.”
“I wish you did. I wish you’d
talk. You see—my daughter-”
“Your daughter is still my
friend, senator,” Smith cut in
quickly. “Please don’t attempt
to tell me she is not. ’ ’
Mallon exploded again.
“Your friend! I should say she
is. If she ever finds out who you
are and untangles this Leslie wom
an's story, she’ll marry you so
quick it will make your head
swim! ’ ’ He stepped closer to
Smith. “She’s in the next room,”
he confided. “She asked me to
come with her. I thought I
hoped I could fix this up. But I
can’t. You won’t talk.”
“Senator,” the agitator de
manded, “why will you persist in
disbelieving me! I tell you alcohol
can destroy anything in a man. It
has destroyed my memory. I tell
you I don’t know who I am. I
cannot remember what I was.”
Mallon looked disappointed.
“Then,” he said, “that’s all.
It’s ended. My daughter can’t
marry a man who already may
have been married. That’s a dead
sure thing.”'
He put his hand on the knob of
the door on the right, leading into
Crawdlor’s larger office.
“No, it isn’t ended,” Smith said
with great determination, and fol
lowed Mallon. “I must speak to
Miss Mallon!”
(Continued Next Week.)
The Ignited State* hast no national
flower, but efforts have been made to
have the gohlenrod adopted. This flower
is abundant through an enormous .area
of the continent.
Elections In'Land of Nippon.
Tlie Japanese people are satisfied
with the result of the election of April
20, but agitation regarding expense at
tending a canvass for a seat in parlia
ment Is renewed. The same argument
is heard as those after the last gen
; eral election, according to East and
West. The Cliugai fsbogyo estimates
the cost of GOO candidates at not less
Hum $2,040,000! This is more than
representatives in the United States
expend, but senators have been known
to pay half a million for seats In that
body. The Uhugal says the govern
ment spent .$200,000 for supervising !
tb»‘ election, which, to Americans, will
appear moderate. This sum includes |
“stumping trips” through Hie country
by cabinet ministers; members of the
opposition paid their own expenses. ;
The editor rpgrets tlmt so many men !
entitled to vote fall to exercise their j
high privilege. Repeated dissolution i
of the diet not only causes political j
disturbances, he argues, but imposes
heavy financial loss upon the nation
and upon individuals.
4 PAIN? MOT A BIT!
j LIFT YOUR CORNS f
1 OR CALLUSES OFF I
• — - - i
• i
t No humbug! Apply few drops i
? then just lift them away 1
• j
i with fingers. i
? * i
This new drug is an ether compound
discovered by a Cincinnati chemist. It
t.3 vuiuu j. i. vcouiiv, nuu v. a u
now be obtained in tiny
bottles as here shown at
very little cost from any
drug store. Just ask for
freezone. Apply a drop or
two directly upon a tender
corn or callus and instant- i
ly the soreness disappears.
Shortly you will find the
corn or callus so loose that
you can lift it oft, root
and all, with the fingers.
J Not a twinge of pain,
soreness or irritation; not
. even the slightest smart
ing, either when applying
Si freezone or afterwards. j
|! This drug doesn't eat up
jjjij the corn or callus, but
[ | shrivels them so they loos
jj! eu and come right out. It
lj is no humbug! It works
I like a charm. For a few
a........ ... i
ery hard corn, soft com or :
corn between the toes, as well as pain
ful calluses on bottom of your feet. It |
never disappoints and never burns, !
bites or inflames. If your druggist
hasn’t any freezone yet, tell him to
get a little bottle for you from his
wholesale house.—adv.
Then Silence.
They were dancing merrily, this
young man and the young woman, and
were talking of nothing at all, when
suddenly the girl asked :
“Have you enlisted?”
“No,” answered the youth.
“Haven’t you joined the Otticers’ Re
serve corps?”
“No, not yet. I haven’t thought
much about that sort of tiling.”
“Haven’t you done anything about
the war?”
“No,” the youth replied.
Whereupon the girl stopped danc
ing.
“1 wish you would take me to a seat.
I don’t think I want to dance with
you."—Washington Star.
WATCH YOUR SKIN IMPROVE
When You Use Cuticura—The Soap to
Purify and Ointment to Heal.
On rising and retiring gently smear
the face with Cuticura Ointment. Wash
off Ointment in five minutes with Cutl
tura Soap and hot water. Continue
this treatment for ten days and note
the change la your skin. No better
toilet preparations exist.
Free sample each by mail with Book.
Address postcard, Cuticura, Dept. L,
Boston. Sold everywhere.—Adv.
In a Sense.
“I ache all over from working in my
garden yesterday.”
“Growing pains, eh?”
—;-\
The hardest work some men do Is
Inventing excuses to keep them from
•exerting themselves.
The Effects of Opiates.
THAT INFANTS are peculiarly susceptible to opium and its various
preparations, all of which are narcotic, fa well known. Even in the
smallest doses, if continued, these' opiates cause changes in the func
tions and growth of the cells which are likely to become permanent, causing
imbecility, mental perversion, a craving for alcohol or narcotics in later litif
Nervous diseases, such as intractable nervous dyspepsia and lack of staving
powers are a result of dosing with opiates or narcotics to keep children quiet
m their infancy. The rule among physicians fa that children should never
receive opiates in the smallest doses for more than a day at a time and
only then if unavoidable. ’
The administration of Anodynes, Drops, Cordials, Soothing Syrups and
other narcotics to children by any but a physician cannot he too strono-iy
decried, and the druggist should not be a party to it. Children who are id
need the attention of a physician, and it fa nothing less thsn a crime to
dose them willfully with narcotics.
Castoria contains no narcotics if it bears the r
signature of Chas. H. Fletcher. /Jr y/KTJTi * ‘ **"
Genuine Castoria always bears the signature ol^uz^^J-£c<cAM^
——■—gasBaaBEa
Foresight. Girls Won’t Agree.
“When one of those musty thrones ; While we cannot wholly indorse the
topples over in Europe do you suppose plan to impose an extra tax on bnch
there Is much dust?” eJors, we are frank to say. having been
“Not as much ns you might think, one for many years, thnt It is worth it.
Most monarehs are crafty enough to —Topeka Capital.
put their dust away in n safe plant* be- --... _ . »
fore a revolution starts.” When Your Eves Need Care
Pain 1* no longer pain when it is g.nJFcEfifffiffi „ i
* ■-». ntniss bis uudi co., csiCAua
HILIfllEi CUHIM <
Produce More Food, But at the
Lowest Cost.
A trip through most of the grain
growing districts of Western Canada,
and information received from authen
tic sources, reveals that the spring
seeding of wheat, barley and oats is
finished and the grain is having a most
rapid growth. Men of fanning expe
rience here say that the conditions are
similar to those years when there was
an abundant harvest reaped. During
the past year a number of new settlers
caino into the country, and they will
undoubtedly have a good crop this
year. This added to the normal acre
age, made considerably less by the
lack of labor owing to the number who
have gone to the front, will give a
fair general yield. It is surprising the
growth that this country is capable of
producing.
Wheat has this spring gerinipa?ed\
and shown three or four inches growth
In five or six days, and with anything
like favorable weather, harvesting
should commence about the 15tli of
August, or a little over one hundred
days from first seeding. Hundreds of
farmers throughout this vast country
paid for their entire holdings out of
one year’s crop and it would not be
surprising if the same experience met
a great many more this year.
The ber-t authorities on the wheat
situation give it as their opinion that
for tnanv years to come, wheat prices ,
will be high. They base their opinion *
on a scientific calculation and their
reasoning seems to be sound. Anyway,
it is quite evident that for some years
to come, the producer of wheat will
he amply rewarded for any effort ho
may make to develop this branch of
agricultural industry. Money may be
made on the high-priced lands of the
wheat-growing districts of the United
States, but it is a question if these
high-priced 1; nds would not be more
profitably employed in other branches
of farming than in growing the smaller
grains, leaving it to lands just as jtro
ductive for wheat, less expensive to op
erate. and with a much smaller
initial price, to provide the world
with this necessity of life. Hero is
where Western Canada, with its vast
rich fertile plains, its low railway
rates, its exceptionally good shipping
privileges, its excellent climate, and its
perfect social conditions, has a com
bination of advantages not possessed
by any other portion of the continent.
Furthermore, these lands, of unex
celled quality, are extraordinarily
cheap, while for the man who does not
care to undertake farming on so exten
sive a scale there is the free home
stead which offers him all the opportu
nity for which he is looking.
The prospective purchaser will have
no difficulty at all in making a selec
tion of a fine piece of land, well lo
cated and convenient to transportation,
which may be had for from $15 to $25
an acre, and the railway companies or
other holders of large tracts are al
ways glad to sei! on easy terms. Or
if he desires a farm that is a!ready
under cultivation and improved, many
such are to be had from farmers who
already have made comfortable for
tunes and are ready to retire.
It is not to the grain grower or.iy
that Western Canada offers great op
portunities. If one wishes to go in for
cattle raising, there are great stretches
of range land both free and for lease;
and in many sections of the country
there are the finest of grazing lauds
that may be purchased at very low
prices.
The appeal which has been sent out
both by the United States and Cana
dian governments, for an unstinted, un
limited production of food stuffs to pre
vent what might otherwise be a fam
ine throughout this great continent—
and then consequently, throughout the
world—should In itself arouse all tiie
ambition and desire in the heart and
soul of the man who is not lighting at
the front, to produce all he can. In
addition, there is the potent fact that no
chances are being taken in answering
the appeal. Take it from either stand
point you answer the country’s call, al
though not fighting, and you are also
insured against any loss by the high
prices that are bound to exist for some
time. jWhether it be in rhe'*United
States on its excellent grain lands or
in Canada on its splendid grain lands,
all should do their bit.—Advertisement,
“Money makes the mare go,” and al
so the dogs of war.
WMiiiimn—iiiiiiiiiiii i i i i i i 11»
