t<p crier' “7
Of? riHEfflTO® j&ra 1HLUB
BV CHARLES MORRIS BUTLER.
j9i///to/' of “77/e Gerenpe of /VtvY't” ‘JS/ 7f/te/ncrt/ 77izp "life.
Copyright, 1905, by
CHAPTER |.
Jim Denver, the Detective, and His
Great Scheme.
“I believe this is Louis Lang?”
“It is.”
“Well, how are you to-day?”
“Oh, fairly well,” replied the young
man addressed as Lang. He was sit
ting before a small table in one of
the secluded corners of a high-class
saloon on Clark street, Chicago. When
first accosted, the youth looked up
quite surprised at being spoken to,
and saw a very gentlemanly-looking
personage standing before him. “You
certainly have the advantage of me,”
he replied, cautiously, eyeing his in
terrogator enquiringly. “Whom have
I the honor of addressing?”
The gentleman smiled, and drew up
a chair beside the youth. “I am Jim
Denver, lately from New York,” he
replied somewhat harshly, then in an
undertone he added abruptly, “who
once arrested you on suspicion of hav
ing committed a murder!”
It was a cruel stab, and Lang was
flustered for a moment, an angry
flush spreading over his face. A shud
der seemed to pass through his frame,
that passing, he- composed himself
almost immediately. “Well, what’s
your ‘lay’ now?" he inquired.
“Still have hard feelings against
me, I see,” said the detective, as if
surprised at the bitter tone of the
youth.
“I have no love for you, certainly—
and as far as that goes, no grudge
against you, either,” answered Lang.
“The arrest was made in the line of
your duty—but I was innocent! You
can bet that you will have no further
cause to ‘take’ me!” The subject was
very painful to Lang. He fidgeted
around in his chair as if sitting on a
red-hot gridiron.
“Keep on in the way you are go
Morris C. Butler.
case ended. Becoming interested in
the windy city, and realizing the pos
sibilities there for more rapid ad
vancement than he had enjoyed in his
home city under municipal employ
ment; attached himself to the staff
of one of the leading private detect
ive agencies, and settled down to pri
vate business. Five years before, when
in New' York, he had arrested Lang
on suspicion of having committed
murder. He had been attracted to the
young man since meeting him in Chi
cago, and imagined that he could use
him to good advantage, the stain
upon the youth’s name being more of
a desirable quality than hindrance in
the case he had in view'.
Louis Lang is about twenty-five
years of age. A broad-chested, me
dium 'uuilt German-American; fair
of face and features, save where the
marks of dissipation had begun to
show upon him. A few years before,
while in a saloon carousing with a
number of his associates, he became
involved in a drunken brawl. In the
melee one of the participants was
killed, and Lang had been arrested for
the crime. At the trial, Lang admit
ted the possibility of his having killed
the man; if he had. it was in self
defense. It was proven that the mur
dered man had first drawn a knife
upon Lang. Lang in his defense
claimed to only have wrested the
knife away from his antagonist. He
might have accidentally wounded the
man, but was sure he had not struck
a blow' which would have caused
death.
Lang’s early association with the
rougher and tougher element of New
York society, made it extremely hard
for him to prove the correctness of
his assertion; but after a year of in
carceration in the Tombs, with the lib
eral spending of his brother’s and his
father’s fortunes, he was liberated by
I
“I have a scheme to rob a colony of th ieves of over a million dollars in gold."
ing,” insinuated the detective, “and
you will end in a different manner
than you expect.”
“Oh! I don’t care what becomes of j
. me!” said the young man, moodily
toying with the empty beer glass on
the table before him.
“Life, then, has no attraction for
you?”
“Not much!” answered Lang.
“What would make life of interest
to you?” asked the detective, as if in
terested in the answer.
“To be able to lift up my head; to
become respectable—wealthy,” said
the young man, fiercely.
“Pardon me, I>ang,” said the de
tective, quite earnestly, “if I seem to
be reading you a lecture. But do you
imagine that you are going ahead in
the right direction—to attain all these
—when you begin by throwing away
what little respect and manhood you
may have had left? You, and every
one else, owe the world your best
efforts. You are really a criminal,
as much to be despised as a thief,
when you sink to a low level!”
“Fate!” sadly replied the youth,
taking the rebuke in good part, vainly
striving to frame an excuse. “The
best years of my life were taken away
from me. I have no ambition to be
gin over again. 1 have struggled to
combat fate, but I am no better off
now than I have ever been.”
“Fate, indeed,” echoed Denver, con
temptuously. “One would think, V>
hear you talk that you were an old
man looking back upon a life of fleet
ing opportunities! Instead of striving
and overcoming opposition, you make
y<fir condition worse. Your dreams
of wealth and honor, are they dead
now?”
“No! If I didn’t dream, all hope
would indeed be gone! I would put |
an end to my existence now if I did j
not hope.”
“How do you expect to realize this
hope—to become rich, if you don’t
toil; respectable, if you do not re- |
spect yourself?”
“I don’t. I have toiled, striven hard
to please—but to no avail. Who wrants
me in their employ? What kind of so
ciety is open to me? Answer me
that. It is for this that I am dis
couraged.”
“A hopeless case,” said the detect
ive shaking his head. “You brood
over a mere fancy—yet you say you
still hope! How many more days of
dissipation do you think you can put j
in on the money you now have?”
“This is my last night,” sadly re- I
plied the young man, as he gaze<J at a
tv few stray coins brought to light from
- his trousers’ pocket.
“Then what are you going to do?”
“Haven’t the least idea in the
world.”
“Are you open to a business profio
sltion?"
“I most certainly am.”
The detective arose. “Now that we
have a foundation to work on, I think
that I can interest you. Let us retire
to a private room where we will not
be disturbed.”
“Very well.”
Jim Denver was a noted New York
detective. Recently, while engaged in
hunting down a noted forger, he had
been brought to Chicago W»“»re the
_
a jury, who brought in the old Scotch
verdict of “Discharged for lack of evi
dence to convict.” This was not a
vindication, and the stain on his repu
tation remained. Being unable to face
the ordeal of taunts and sneers which
met him on every hand, the only thing
left him to do was to leave the scenes
of his early youth, and amid strange
surroundings, attempt to live down his
ignoble past. By a strange course of
circumstances very recently he had
been enabled to prove his entire inno
cence, by discovering the true mur
derer.
“Your vindication was a pretty
shrewd piece of detective work,” said
Denver, as he took his seat before a
table in the little private room allot
ted to their use. “I think you are the
right kind of a man to make a good
detective of.”
“If there is anything that I can do to
aid you, you can depend on me,” earn
estly replied Ixmis.
“You would have no fear, then
of losing your life?”
“Not if the object to be gained was
worth the risk. I think I would be
willing to attempt almost any desper
ate scheme to prove my worth to the
world. But, of course, you do not
expect me to promise to do something
blindly—to run into danger without
fully realizing of what the danger con
sists?”
By way of answer, Denver replied:
“Suppose a million dollars was the re
ward—what would you do for a mil
lion?”
“Anything!” exclaimed the young
man. “Anything save to kill a man
in cold blood! I draw the li»ie there!
No amount of money could t#mpt me
to have the blood of an innocent man
on my hands!”
“You would have no conscientious
scruples against retaining any valu
able plunder recovered from a thief,
providing you did not know the
owner? ”
“Not at all. But why all these
queries?” the young man rather im
patiently asked. “If you are not sure
of me, why do you approach me on a
subject of such vital importance?”
“I am getting at it,” the detective
replied calmly. He arose from his
seat, making sure that no one was
listening at the door, then he leaned
over the table and looked his com
panion in the eye:
“I have a scheme to rob a colony of
thieves of over a million dollars in
gold!” he Anally said.
CHAPTER II.
The Theory of the Convict Country.
“A colony of thieves?” questioned
Lang.
"Yes! A colony of thieves!” said
the detective. “No doubt ypu have
often wondered where all of our rich
defaulters and criminals go to in order
to keep from falling into the hands of
the law?” *
“It is commonly supposed that they
take up their residence in Canada or
other foreign countries.”
“I have every reason to believe that
there exists a colony composed of
‘escaped’ or ‘wanted’ criminals—not
in Cannfa, but right here in this free
aagiliglffhtened republic! More than
one have ninied at the possibility of
the existence of such a place, uid it
seems to me more than reasonable.
How else can we account for the
many complete disappearances of
such men as Snell’s murderer (with
$50,000 on his head) and the mutilator
of Amelia Olsen? I would not be sur
prised if it could be proven that they
there rest secure from the law they
have outraged. Bombthrowers, mur
derers, thieves—these are the col
onists.”
“A select gathering,” said Lang.
“And you imagine, because these
gentry cannot be traced to Canada or
Mexico, that they have formed a col
ony in some secluded part of the
United States. Bearding the lions of
the lawr in their dens, as it were.”
“That’s my idea exactly. And the
thing which is most to my liking,” ex
claimed Denver, “is the fact that
these colonists must have a world of
gold money in their possession!”
“Where did you get your idea?”
“From a dying criminal, who con
fessed to having a knowledge of such
a place, though he could not tell me
where it was located. It w'as de
scribed as a barricaded town. For a
certain sum of money prisoners or ac
cused persons are assisted to escape
from custody, and taken to this place
to live. The sum demanded as an
admission fee is so large that none
but criminals of renown and wealth
become ‘colonists,’ and as they can
hardly have use for money in a place
undoubtedly supported by co-operative
effort, I estimate that they must have
accumulated about this sum of money.
Even if this is not so, a vast fortune
could be made by capturing or killing
ten or twenty of those rascals for
whom extra large rewards are offered,
Tascott, for instance, and the ab
ductor of young Cudahy, there’s a
hundred thousand dollars right there
for some brave man to pick up. I
want you to help me discover this
place.”
“These ‘colonists’ must have a pow
erful clique on the outside—agents in
every city of importance in the Unit
ed States,” said Lang, “to recruit the
colony in the way described by you.”
(To be continued.)
SOME IDEAS ABOUT WOMEN.
By One Who Imagines He Knows the
Softer Sex.
The woman who knows Greek will
still spend an hour and a half in
dressing her hair for a party. I calcu
late that if women wore their hair
short a million unemployed hours
would be thrown daily upon the world.
The young couple with the grains
of rice still upon them start blithely
across the marriage links. Much de
pends on the way they negotiate their
first disillusion—or bunker!
Passion wins maids and persever
ance widows.
The rejected lover should never
lose hope. In addressing the lady his
tone should be soft, mellifluous—a
south wind rustling over orange trees.
Orange trees—not cypresses!
The man who sums women up in a
sentence is the man whom women
can fool with a phrase.
It is a woman's most delightful
quality that she is not interested in
politics.—From '•Mollentrave,” popular
London play.
A Precocious Sportsman.
"The Americans are great Sports
men,” said Sir Thomas Dewar, in re
counting his impressions of America.
"From their earliest years they take
a consuming interest in all sorts of
contests and races.
"I remember one cold afternoon in
New York seeing a poor little, ragged
lad, with his nose glued against the
window- of a toy shop. I stopped be
side him and looked down. But he
paid no heed to me. His clear young
eyes were intent on the window's
bright and inviting contents.
"Without a word I slipped a penny
into his cold little hand. He looked
at the penny, and then he looked at
me.
“ ‘Well, if this ain’t luck,’ he said.
‘I’ve been wishin’ for a cent, and
here's one dropped right in me fist.’
“ ‘What did you want the cent for,
my lad?’ said I.
"The urchin answered:
“ ‘I wanted to get a night extry to
see wot’s won. I’ve got a dollar on
Swallow in the third race.’ ’
Ralph Waldo Emerson's Stove.
Ralph Waldo Emerson was a man of
rare integrity, and very particular
about small things. One day a new
cooking stove had been provided for
his house, and, although the stove
came very highly recommended,, it
proved thoroughly unsatisfactory and
most provoking, as it did everything
but what it was expected to do. After
a while the family were in despair,
and some one suggested sending it to
auction.
"What!” exclaimed Emerson, “trans
fer our own perplexity to another
pair of shoulders? No, never! Unless
the stove is labeled ‘imperfect.’ ”
And so, “imperfect” it was labeled,
and sold at a great discount.
Familiar With the Disease.
Dr. William Osier of Johns Hop
kins and Oxford, tells this story: An
old darky quack, well known in a
certain section of the south, was pass
ing the house of a planter, whose wife
was reported to be dangerously ill.
Stopping at the gate he called to one
of the hands:
“I say, Rastus, how’s the missus?”
"Well,” replied Rastus, “the doctah
done say dis mawnin’ dat she conva
lescent.”
“Humph! Dat ain’t nothin’, chile,”
said the old quack, with an air of
superior wisdom. “Why, I’ve done
cured convalescence in twenty-foah
hours!”
Uncertainty of Life.
“Young man,” said the clerical look
ing passenger, addressing the beard
less individual across the aisle, “do
you ever consider when you lie down
at night that you may never see the
sun rise again.”
“No,” replied the party at whom the
query had been fired, “I can’t say that
I do; but every morning when I wake
up I realize that I may not live to see
another sunset.”
“You do?” queried the surprised c.
1. p.
“I do,” answered the young man.
“You see. I’m a baseball umpire.”—
Cincinnati Enquirer.
National League News.
Homer Hillebrand, though left
handed, bats from the right.
Manager McGraw has turned over
Neal, his utility man, to Baltimore.
Joe Kelley declares that the Cin
cinnati pitchers outclass those of the
Pittsburg Club.
Del Howard is authority for the
charge that Heinie Peitz coaches him
self while running bases.
The Brooklyn Club has released
pitcher Eddie Poole and catcher Jack
litsch. Both have signed with Provi
dence.
Harry Arndt may not go back to
Louisville. The Boston Nationals are
said to hanker a little bit after the
third sacker.
According to Pittsburg critics, first
baseman Clancy is the quickest base
ball thinker in the business, a very
high compliment.
Manager Joe Kelley is unable to
gain any definite information as to
when he may get into the game again.
His injury is mending but slowly.
Pitcher Willis has jumped the Al
toona club and gone back to the Bos
ton Nationals, President Soden, of
Boston, having come to the pitcher’s
terms.
Pitcher Willis last week made him
self an outlaw by joining the Altoona
club. He says his salary will be far
more than $3,000 and that he has it
guaranteed.
Brooklyn fans are enthusiastic over
the work of their new infielders,
Batch, Owens, Lewis and McGamwell.
Batch and Lewis are particularly
praised for their fast work.
Fred M. Knowles, secretary-treasur
er of the New York Giants, is empow
ered to bet $1,000 to $10,000 that the
champions repeat their performance
of 1904 and that the National League
pennant again floats over the Polo
Grounds.
American League Notes.
Dick Cooley will play right for De
troit.
Jesse Stovall has joined the Minne
apolis team.
Ban Johnson says the Washingtons
are all right.
Three-I League Tips.
Seitz, the young pitcher who was
given a trial by Decatur, has been
signed by Dubuque.
Pitcher Jesse Ruby, formerly cap
tain of Purdue, has joined Rock
Island. He will pitch and do utility
stunts.
After a lively scrimmage with Man
ager Connors, of Bloomington, Mana
ger Nicol, of Peoria, has secured the
services of first baseman Elton, from
Minneapolis.
Manager Belden Hill, of Cedar Rap
ids, signed a new infielder, C. R. Cave,
last week. He has been playing in
Kansas and is said to be fast. He
will be given a trial on third.
Rock Island has signed another in
fielder. Shirley Reeves, of Knights
town, Ind. He was in the Copper
State League last year and was given
a trial by Minneapolis this spring.
President Holland is anxious that
his staff of umpires present a good ap
pearance on the diamond and has or
dered each man to provide himself
with a uniform of dark blue to consist
of trousers, blouse and cap.
Central League Chatter.
The Fort Wayne club claims pitcher
Farrell, released by Cincinnati to
Grand Rapids.
Summerlot, who was tried out for
the initial sack by South Bend, has
been released.
Coggswell, the red-headed right
fielder of last year’s South Bend team,
has been sold to Evansville.
Manager Grant, of South Bend, has
released first baseman Summerlot and
outfielders McKee and Tiqry.
Manager Watkins, of Indianapolis,
has loaned Wagner, a former Amer
ican Association twirler, to Dayton for
the season.
Dayton has brought Tommy Haw
kins to time and the well-known
catcher has accepted the terms offered
by the Vets.
The Cincinnati club has turned
pitcher Bert J. Farrell back to Grand
Rapids, and pitcher James Feeney to
Terre Haute.
“Billy” McCoombs, Wheeling's for
mer pet for second base, has been
W7ZZZ4/T Z> ZZ4&SZ&4ZZ
Catcher of the New York National League Club.
Young Knight is doing some fine
hitting for the Athletics.
Boston will probably turn Pitcher
Perry Sessions back to St. Paul.
The Athletic club has released
Pitcher Pete Noonan to St. Paul.
Mullin, the Detroit pitcher, lost his
first opening game in three years.
“Jimmy” Williams is going it some.
He stole four bases in Washington.
Ford and Thomas, the new twirl
ers with Detroit, are hard workers in
practice.
Clarke Griffith wants to trade Fultz,
Puttmann and Kleinow for Patten and
Kittredge.
It is said that Manager Griffith will
have first pick of the Indianapolis
players next fall.
Outfielder Jackson, with Cleveland,
looks like a find. He has a neat posi
tion at bat and swings hard.
“Herman Long,” says Jim McGuire,
"was the greatest of them all on
making plays with one hand.”
Pat Flaherty has the nerve of a
burglar—a sterling quality good ball
players require in their business.
Southern Sayings.
The Nashville Club has received
pitcher Harry Nickens back from the
Indianapolis club.
The Memphis club has released
third baseman Jeffries, formerly of
the K.-I.-T. League.
Grantland Rice figures that fifteen
big league teams spent over $80,000
in the land of cotton this spring.
Dale Gear says first division honors
will not satisfy either him or Little
Rock patrons, the pennant being his
goal.
Shortstop Williams is back with
Charlie Frank, whom he jumped to
become a Cardinal. The ex-Aemphian
is New Orleans’ manager.
Third baseman Edward Beecher is
again a full-fledged member of the
Memphis club, having placed his sig
nature to a Memphis contract last
week, immediately after Brooklyn
turned him back.
Following are the nicknames of the
teams: Birmingham—Steel Magnates
and Barons. Atlanta—Crackers, Fire
Crackers and Colonels. Little Rock
Travelers. Nashville — Fishermen.
New Orleans—Pelicans. Montgomery
—Legislators. Memphis—Champions..
Shreveport—Plra*'
signed for 1905 and “Stogiedom” is
greatly rejoicing.
Iowa League Items.
Manager George Cole, of the Water
loo club, died in the Presbyterian Hos
pital of Waterloo, on the 15th from
the effects of an operation for appen
dicitis.
Five men have been released by
Manager Owens, of the Burlington
team. The deported are: Outfielders
Fleming and Bowman, shortstop Carl
Bond, Pitcher Friedlein and catcher
Killian. A new man has joined the
squad for trial, Murphy, of Keokuk’s
1904 team.
Agitation in Oskaloosa against the
playing of Sunday base ball has put
new life into the reports that the
Quaker city would be dropped from
the Iowa League circuit and Clinton
substituted. It may be said upon the
most reliable authority that there is
nothing but fiction in the story, that
neither Oskaloosa nor Sunday base
ball will be abolished.
American Association Affairs.
Pitcher Tate Cromley has at last
signed an Indianapolis contract.
Loitoville carries but two back
stops—Captain Dexter and Popper Bill
Schriver.
The Kansas City club has turned
pitcher Ralph Gibson over to St. Jo
seph for this season.
The Toledo infield will be made up
of Doyle, Demont, Clingman and Mo
riarity, not a weak bunch, by any
means.
*
Nobody in Toledo is able to tell
whether Wyatt Lee’s arm will be good
enough to allow him to try pitching
again.
Larry Quinlan has been elected to
cover short for the Colonels, and Or
ville Woodruff will elbow Roy Mont
gomery off third base.
K.-l.-T. League News.
Cy Swain of Dennison, O., has
signed to pitch for Princeton.
The Henderson club has released
Mike Donovan and Henry Freeman.
The work of Clyde Goodwin, who
played on Vincennes last season and
who is now in Indianapolis, is being
closely watched by Vincennes fans,
and there is not one who believes he
will not make good.
The Parting Volley.
TVifh arms reversed the ranks pass on.
The muffled drum makes faltered tread,
A muster roll reads simply. "Gone,”
One more is numbered with the dead—
A crash! The parting volley rolls
A requiem among earth's souls.
The flags hang drooping from the mast,
Faint echoes come and go and die;
Tears fiU the eyes, welled from the past.
Of those who see a comrade lie
Where memory must be a name.
And tablets praise a hero's fame.
What then? A soldier gives his life
For love of country, valorous deeds.
And lies as one whom carnal strife
Marked for its own among its seeds.
I Ah, yes! ere yet a flashing blade
Was drawn or sheathed his grave was
made.
Who calls the names of those to fall?
Ask of the God of Battles, who?
But they are known, and some of all
Who go to war to dare and do
Know that the piercing shot will bring
To him his altar's offering.
Some meet the shock within the fray.
Some fail within the nurse's tent.
Maimed, weak and gaunt they waste
away.
Yet to its end each way is bent;
The end? Deserved promotion calls
To higher life each one that falls.
—Clifford Kane Stout.
OLD SPIRIT STILL STRONG.
Veteran in Desperate Straits Adopted
Reckless Suggestion.
“Two or three years ago,” said the
doctor, “I was living in New York,
and was engaged in a profitable busi
ness. One evening 1 was seated at
a table in a restaurant when a well
dressed, elderly man came in from
the street, walked straight toward
me and said in a low voice: “I am
in great distress. I am at the end of
my string. I have no money, no place
to sleep, and I am hungry. What
would you advise me to do?’
“Of course, I was annoyed, and I
showed my annoyance. There was no
reason why the man should have
singled out me for such a speech, ex
cept, possibly, that I wore the Grand
Army button. How-ever, that did not
occur to me at the time, and I said
jocularly, ‘I know what I would do un
der like circumstances. I would go
outside, look for a good-sized stone,
clutch it firmly in my right hand, find
a large plate glass window, and hurl
the stone through it. After that I
would be sure of board and lodging
for some weeks at the expense of the
city.
“The stranger said with jaunty po
liteness: ‘You are very kind. Thank,
you, sir. I will act on your sugges
tion.’ Thereupon he walked straight
to the door and went out, and I or
dered my supper. In less than five
minutes there was a crash in front, a
tinkle of broken glass and a clamor
of voices. I went with others to the
street and saw that my acquaintance|
of five minutes before had taken my
advice with a vengeance. He had
thrown a stone throuya the window of
a jewelry store and was awaiting ar
lest. There were all sorts of theories
on the lips of men who were awaiting
the second move in what they regard
ed as a daring scheme of robbery.
Meantime several policemen were
closing in cautiously on the man who
had thrown the stone. They evidently
regarded him as a dangerous charac
ter, or insane. Divining this, the
stone-thrower said, ‘Oh, I will go with
you. No trouble on that score. In
fact, I broke the glass that I might be
arrested.’ As a policeman grabbed
him, I said, ‘Wait a minute. I am
afraid I am to blame for this. I said
to this man when he asked for assist
ance that I would throw a stone
through a plate glass window, and in
that way secure board and lodging
from the city. That was a joke, but
he seems to have acted on my advice,
and I feel in a measure responsible.’
“The upshot of the affair was that I
agreed to pay for the broken glass and
to take charge of the man who had
broken it. I paid for the supper of the
stone-thrower, secured lodgings for
him, and told him I would listen to his
story the next day. I never expected
to see him again, but he kept his ap
pointment the next morning and told
his story. He had been in the employ
of the house for twenty years, and
when it failed thought he would have
no difficulty In securing other employ
ment. But he found no other place
and finally found himself with no re
sources and no chance of employment.
“The sensation of being turned out
of doors, of being without friends, and
of being hungry, affected him strange
ly, and, noticing my Grand Army but
ton as I went into the restaurant, he
decided to lay his case before me. In
his desperate mood my suggestion
struck him as being much better than
suicide. I secured him employment
the next day on trial, and he did so
wrell that he was regularly engaged
the next we6k. In six months he
came to my office looking so much
better that I did not recognize him.
He said the jeweler of the broken
window had told him that I paid a bill
of $70 for replacing the glass, and he
had come to repay the money.
“He said he had a good position
and was abundantly able to pay the
bill; that he was indebted to me for
the position and for the general brac
ing up he received in following my
advice, and that he wanted to be a com
rade in good standing. Then it came
out that he had seen service in the
same brigade as myself, and he re
called an exploit In which he and
some of my own regiment had been
engaged—to their credit. I understood
then the reckless, devil-may-care spirit
of the fellow who threw a stone
through a window on my advice.”—
Chicago Inter Ocean.
First Badge of the G. A. R.
The history of the Grand Army is an
old story and one that scarcely needs
retelling at this late day. But there is
one thing connected with the organiza
tion ‘hat will bear telling about, and
that Is the familiar bronze star that
every comrade wears and which only
service in the army or navy of the
United States during the rebellion en
titles him to wear. As everybody
knows, the Grand Army originated in
Illlfttis in 1S66, and almost coincident
with its orgasization was the adoption
et a badge which should serve to
| identify its members, but it was not
j the bronze star which is so familiar
' tc-day. It was a silver shield which
was fastened directly to the breast of
the coat by a pin clasp. This state
ment will undoubtedly be a surprise
to 99 out of every 100 comrades in the
order to-day. and probably not one in
10.000 ever saw one of these shields.
In a six months’ searching after one
of them the writer has askc«l scores of
comrades if they knew where one of
“original" badges of the Grand Army
could be obtained. “Oh, yes,” was fre
quently the reply; "I have one my
self.” and the comrade would proudly
exhibit one of the bronze stars that
were issued along in the 70s.
“But that is not what 1 mean.” the
writer would say: “I want one of the
badges in the shape of a shield.”
“Why, I never heard of any such
badge of the Grand Army,” would be
the surprised rejoinder, and many of
those comrades had been in the order
for thirty-five years or more, and some
of them had occupied high official posi
tions in it.
But Past Commander-in-Chief Rob
ert B. Beath, in his “History of the
Grand Army of the Republic,” pub
lished in 1888 under the auspices of
the national encampment, gave a brief
description of the badge in question
and also cuts showing what it looked
like. It appears that the badge “wa?
adopted in 1866 on the recommends
tion of a committee consisting of
Adjt. Gen. Webber, A. O. Behm of
Lafayette, Ind., and Maj. O. M. Wil
son, Indianapolis.
Badge of Colorado and Wyoming.
The badge adopted by the depart
ment of Colorado and Wyoming is of
bronze and consists of a heavy disk
having upon it, side by side, the of
ficial seals of the two states. The
eagle and star of the G. A. R. badge
appear at the top and bottom of the
disk. On the reverse is a wreath of
laurel encircling the “little bronze but
ton.” The pin, from which depends
the disk by a cherry ribbon, is also
of bronze, bearing the names of the
two states constituting the depart
ment.
Next General Encampment.
General Orders No. 5, from the
Headquarters of the Grand Army of
the Republic, says:
“At a meeting of the Executive Com
mittee of the National Council of Ad
ministration. held in Denver, the date
for the assembling of the Thirty-ninth
National Encampment was fixed for
the week beginning Monday. Septem
ber 4. The annual parade, in connec
tion with the National Encampment
will be on Wednesday, September 6,
and will be composed exclusively of
Grand Army organizations and the
usual military bands. It will be over
asphalted streets and will not be more
than two miles in length. The Depart
ment of Illinois, by right of seniority,
will have the right of the line; other
departments will follow in order ol
seniority of date of charters. The en
tertaining department will take post
tion on the left of the line. The busi
ness session of the Thirty-ninth Na
tional Encampment will be held on
Thursday and Friday, September 1
and 8.”
Full information in relation to trans
portation to the encampment cannot
be given at this time, but all of the
passenger associations have acted on
the question of rates and the com
rades can depend upon one cent per
mile for the round trip from any point
in the United States to Denver.
Colored Man Post Commander.
For the first time in its history the
Department of Massachusetts. Grand
Army of the Republic, at its last an
nual encampment, held at Boston in
February, elected a colored comrade
as department commander—Joseph H.
Wolff of Brighton. The election was
practically unanimous. Commander
Wolff Is a well known attorney. The
number of deaths among the members
of the G. A. R. in the Department of
Massachusetts during the past year
aggregated 683, but notwithstanding
this loss and the losses by honorable
discharge, transfer, suspension and
surrendered charters, which show a
grand total of 1,121, the department
actually gained in membership thirty
nine comrades.
Ruling on Widows of Veterans.
According to a recent decision or
ruling of the Pension Department a
widow pensioner under the general
law who has been dropped from the
rolls because of her remarriage may
have her pension restored by applica
tion, subject to the following condi
tions: That she was the wife of a
soldier during his military service;
that pension had been allowed her un
der the provisions of the general law,
and that she is dependent within the
meaning of the act of June 27, 1890.
Centenary of Abraham Lincoln.
A movement is on foot to hold In
Washington a magnificent celebration
of the 100th anniversary of the birth
of Abraham Lincoln, which will occur
Feb. 12, 1909, four years hence. Noth
ing can be on too grand a scale for
this occasion. Every State in the
Union ought to. and probably will take
part.
