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CHAPTER XVIII.—Continued.
‘‘You bet,” is the only comment
Dick vouchsafes, but his manner
shows how coolly he takes the stir
ring information given, which may
mean the greatest of danger and per
haps death.
Truth to tell, he is worried secret
ly, but only because those are with
him who may be injured in the me
lee. He has already considered a
scheme, wild though it may appear,
by means of which he shall win the
favor of the assemblage, and thus
crush the incipient rebellion.
It is too late for them to get away
from the crowd. As soon as they
make a move the very thing they seek
to avoid w’ill be precipitated upon
them.
Some other plan must be tried, and
the more Dick Denver reflects the
more convinced he becomes that his
wild thought is not such a bad idea
after all. At any rate, it suits his no
tion as a clever way to win the sym
pathy of the crowd, which, like most
of its kind, is. in general, a good
natured one. ready to swing with the
hero of the hour.
Dick would like to confer with his
comrade, but this is hardly possible
now without allowing the ears of Miss
Pauline to catch what they are talk
ing about, and he hardly cares to do
that.
So he must depend upon himself,
and. taken with a sudden notion, de
<.CZif?Z>XZ?ZJ95&' Ay S2SE!TCS2/lSi
madman who seeks the life of the
band leader, or does he Intend to
present his thanks, accompanied per
haps by a substantial present, to the
man who can draw out such wonder
ful music?
Ah! now he clambers over the rail
ing; with a bound he is on the piat
form. Cries arise—more of the as
semblage has discovered him. What
does he now?
Dick turns to face the crowd—he
finds a thousand eyes fixed upon him,
as though he were seme prize animal
at a show. He raises his hand, and
his wonderfully powerful voice rings
across the plaza.
“Silencio!”
All noise immediately ceases—they
wonder what this American senor has
to say to account for his singular ac
tions.
Dick takes the bull by the horns—
he proceeds to invite these good peo
ple into his confidence, well knowing
that they admire bravery, and will
side with the man who appeals to this
feeling.
He begins by telling them of the
situation, the plot against a brave
young woman, simply because she
chances to have inherited a large
share of the El Dorado Mine, de
scribes lightly some of her persecu
tions to which she has been subject
ed, and thus gains the good-will and
sympathy of the crowd in the ad
vance.
His manner is fervid, so that he
carries them by storm. Cries of
"bravo” are heard, showing that the
people are with him Not a sound
has as yet been heard from Lopez,
the schemer, or any of his lieutenants.
“I Understand—They Will Attack U s To-Night.”
cides upon his unique plan to outwit
the senor and his clique.
He will take all the City of Mexico
into his confidence—the good people
shall hear how some of their fellow
citizens endeavor to persecute those
whose only sin has been the extension
of Mexican business—the restoration
of her most famous mine.
Already the situation has grown
grave. He can see scowling faces
around, and it is evident that if, as he
believes, the followers of Senor Lo
pez mean them harm, the crisis will
not long be delayed.
Bob is close to him—Bob, whom he
can trust in any event, and who will
protect Pauline with his life if need
be. He presses against the sheriff.
"Look after Miss Westerly, my dear
fellow. I'm going to astonish these
chaps a bit. The spirit is moving
within me. We're in the net here:
you can see the senor’s adherents all
around us, scowling like demons.
What I propose to do—but time
passes, and the opportunity is ripe.
Watch me, my boy.”
* Bob's curiosity is, of course, imme
diately aroused; he cannot for the
life of him imagine what it is his com
panion aims at. The object may be
plain, but the means which he is
about to employ are decidedly hazy.
It may be readily understood, there
fore, that Bob watches his companion
with great interest, though he does
not for an instant forget that he has
,a charge to keep. Dora no longer
hangs upon his arm; he must have
both of them free in order to meet
the difficulty, if it comes, with his full
strength.
t'aunne wonaers, iuu. me wuiua
ehe has heard Dick utter open her
eyes to one fact, end she takes note
of the scowling faces around them.
One glance she gives, and then de
votes her attention to the man she
loves. What is it he means to do,
this man who does not seem to fear
any danger so long as he accom
plishes the work which he sets out
to perform?
Dick's sudden notion is a strange
one, but quite suited to capture these
people, who depend a great deal upon
excitement to keep them in the land
of the living: a champion bull-fighter
is here a hero, just as in Madrid, the
«dol of the populace, until someone
comes along who overturns this bra
ten image.
Dick knows this as well as the next
man. and it has a bearing on his
movements. He has seen a way by
means of which he can probably win
the good-will of the crowd and baf
fle the plans of the clique. However
stagey it might appear in almost any
other country, it goes here as a
mighty dramatic effort.
He has timed himself well. The
hand of Pedro Gomez rests for a brief
period—they have gained much ap
plause by previous efforts, and will
soon endeavor to win fresh laurels
with the last selection on the night’s
program.
It is at this moment that a man
comes clambering up onto the dais
or platform that has been erected
for the band—a man whom those
nearest recognize as an American.
Surprise keeps them almost quiet,
only a sort of murmur passing
through their midst proclaiming the
astonishment with which they behold
this bold act.
What fa he about to do? Is be a
Perhaps they are too amazed at this
peculiarly bold movement of the en
emy, and hold their place because
they do not know what to say.
Having carried his auditors along
with him thus far. Dick now springs
a surprise. He boldly proclaims that
one of the leaders in the miserable
scheme against the welfare of a
young girl is a man whom they have
known and admired in the past by
reason of what they considered his
bravery, but who is now sunk so low
that It is dpubtful whether he would
dare to respond to a challenge, and
meet the speaker face to face upon
that platform, without arms, to prove
himself a man capable of defending
himself with the weapons nature gave
him.
Dick knows his man well, and
doubts not the result of his speech—
it is a consummation devoutly to be
wished, and he has taken the surest
way of accomplishing his end.
Then, with some expression of dis
dain for the man who has sunk so
low, he gives the name of Tordas Bar
celona, creating something of a sen
sation, for the time was, not long ago,
when the inclosure devoted to the
baiting of el toro in the City of Mex
ico rang with vivas and bravos for
this same athletic bullfighter.
In the midst of the exclamations a
roar is heard, not unlike that which
a mad bull might emit as he sees the
red muleta dangled in front of his
eyes. This comes from the man who
has been thus publicly challenged by
the gringo horse-tamer. Barcelona
has heard, Barcelona is even now
pushing his way forward, hurling peo
ple right and left in his desire to
reach the stage, and thereby making
enemies. Barcelona is no longer the
pitman Mill fBrbmii
% iFnotligbta
By WILLIAM H. CRANE.
the Actor.
Never make terms
with a headache back
of the footlights.
Will — sheer, down
right will. That's the
safest, surest emergen
cy tonic I know. Of
course, a man's got to
take care of himself
on general principles,
particularly the actor, who has so much depending on him night
after night. But there’s a way of meeting the headaches, colds and
toothaches that everybody has. Heaven knows, I’ve tested it. And
I’ve found it good. It’s will.
I suppose few people realize, to look at me now, that for years
I was a nervous dyspeptic of the most sorely tried sort.
There were years when a dinner of a toasted cracker and a
cup of hot milk gave me acute distress four hours afterward. Night
after night I used to go through my part with the lights and scenery
swimming around me in a dyspeptic daze, and night after night I
used to lie awake in bed, wondering how much longer I could
stand it.
The habit of feeling that I must be on hand, however I felt, has
taken strong root in me. It began years before, when I was getting
$10 a week and my expenses at the Royal Lyceum theater in Toronto.
I was their one and only leading man. I used to do the lover in a
comic opera one night, the villain in a melodrama the next, and a
clown in pantomime the third. Many a night I sat up in bed studying
a part until five ia the morning—all from that driving sense that I
must do it because there was no one else. That is the kind of ex
perience that stiffens up the will.
cool man who used to stand in front
of the bull and await his chance—h®
is even now frothing at the mouth
with fury
Dick sees him coming, and laughs;
it is his desire to so enrage the other
that he can manipulate him as he
pleases.
He even makes some remark to the
crowd relative to the bullfighter, and
from the laugh that bubbles forth it
is evident that he has the popular
esteem on his side to begin with. Dick
does not pin his faith on this; he has
seen the fickle nature of Spanish and
Mexican crowds before now. and if
Barcelona can gain even a temporary
advantage over him. these same
throats that now roar forth bravos for
the Yankee will possibly resound with
cries. “Muerte los Americanos!”
Now the other reaches the staging
—he seizes hold and begins to mount,
just as Dick did before him; seeing
whi®h, that worthy takes off his
lightweight coat, and rolls up the
sleeves of his shirt, knowing what an
effect such little dramatic actions
have at timeB, and the shouts that
arise prove him correct.
The members of the band, as deep
ly interested in this singular game as
any present, move back to make
room. Fortunately the platform is
of a generous size, and will allow the
participants in the unannounced bat
tle free play.
Dick does not cast more than one
glance in the direction of his friends,
and seeing Pauline with a look of the
deepest concern upon her face, it
nerves him for the task to come—
under her eyes he will exert himself
as never before.
A victory over Barcelona will carry
with it such popular favor that the
game that has been started on the Al
ameda will be blocked in its inception,
and must at least be transferred to
the El Dorado.
Now Barcelona flings himself over
! the railing of the stage—his exertions
i below have already winded him in a
degree, so that he is hardly in a con
dition to face one so much at home
with his hands as Dick has proven
himself to be.
In his present frame of mind the
Mexican does not care—he would
rush at one ten times as strong and
j agile as Denver. Twice before, of
late, he has found occasion to regret
| meeting the American, but this is all
forgotten in his present heat of pas
i sion.
Dick awaits his coming in what ap
i pears to be a rather careless attitude.
Every eve is upon these two figures
* thus brought face to face in the pres
ence of the multitude, as champions
I of their respective causes.
When Barcelona advances he dou
bles his fists and makes ready to de
molish the man who has dared him
to the combat. Perhaps, if he can get
within easy reach, he may do consid
erable execution with the terrible
power he controls, but the trouble
will be to get that near with a man
so used to keeping on guard.
Up come Dick's Lands—his attitude
would delight the eye of a champion
in the ring, it is so easy, so graceful,
and yet so full of conscious strength.
The Mexican appears to be a human
avalanche, hurling itself down the
side of a mountain. Dick is the rock
upon which it will split.
He is no longer inactive—his arm
shoots out and the loud thump is plain
ly heard. A shout arises as the glad
iator of the bull-pen staggers back
from the concussion—he who has
been used to hearing cheers in his
favor now learns what it means to
feel the sting of rebuff, the shout3
for his antagonist.
He becomes a little more cautious,
since that first staggering blow has
knocked a portion of sense into his
skull—he waits for an opening to get
in one of his terrific strokes that will
stretch his antagonist senseless at his
I feet.
Now Dick begins to play with him
as a cat would a mouse—his superior
education in this line, and the agile
powers which nature has given him,
make this an easy matter; indeed,
there does not seem to be one in all
the crowd who does not see through
the bull-baiting and enjoy it. Thus is
the biter bitten—the man who has
played the hero so many times, and
convulsed the crowd by his antics
with a confused bull, now finds him
self placed in something of the same
position.
(To Be Continued.)
Plate Glass Loss SI,000.000.
It is announced in Pittsburg that as
a result of the San Francisco disaster
plate glass manufacturers will desert
the long standing custom of closing
their factories during the hot months
and operate them at full capacity
through the summer, to fill Pacific
coast orders. It is estimated that plate
glass worth $1,000,000 was destroyed.
j PRESERVER OF PEACE IN PARIS.
iH. Lepine, on whom fell the biggest portion of the burden of main
taining order in Paris on May day, has been in the police service of the
French capital since 1888 and has-been prefect since 1891. His fitness
for the office, with its multitudinous duties, is shown by his reappoint
ment to the office by the various presidents elected since he first became
prefect
WATER SUPPLY OF PANAMA
Elevated Reservoir Holding Vast
Quantity Furnishes the City
Plentifully.
Writes John F. Wallace in the En
gineering Magazine: The system
consisted of a main impounding reser
voir, at an elevation of approximately
235 feet above the level of the sea,
containing enough water to supply the
city of Panama with 2,000,000 gallons
daily, an average of the basis of 30,
000 population, which was at least 50
per cent, in excess of the present num
ber of inhabitants. This water was to
be conducted to the immediate vicin
ity of Panama through a 16-inch
main, and discharged into an auxiliary
reservoir of 1,000,000 gallons capacity,
situated at an elevation of approxi
mately 140 feet above the sea level in
the immediate vicinity of Panama,
from wrhieh the water was conducted
through a 20-inch pipe to a connection
with the distributing system in the
city.
Numerous delays occurred in the
construction of this water supply sys
tem, due to the fact that the last ship
MIGHT HAVE BEEN RIGHT.
Pet Phrase of a Store Clerk. Repeat
edly Used, May Have Hit
the Mark.
A clerk in a clothing store in south
ern New Hampshire, had an amusing
habit of using, on all sorts of occa
sions, the expression, ‘That helps
some.” If a customer came in and
found a suit of clothes of the right
pattern, even though the price was
too high for him to think of buying,
the clerk would utter the consoling
words, "That helps some.” If the
clothes were cheap enough, but were
several sizes too large or too small,
still he would remark, “That helps
some.”
One day a lady came into the store
and asked to be allowed to see an as
sortment of neckties. The polite clerk
spread out an array of these goods for
her inspection, and while she was
making her selection he noticed that
she looked exceedingly sad and tear
ful. The clerk ventured some com
monplace remark, which led the wom
an to explain that her burden was a
very heavy one; that she was left with
PRINCE FERDINAND OF BULGARIA.
Ruler whose strained relations with the sultan of Turkey has caused
uneasiness among the European powers.
ment of 16-inch pipe for the water
main did not arrive on the isthmus
until May, 1905—eight months after
the requisition for it had been issued.
The system was in final readiness for
the delivery of water in the city of
Panama at the close of June, 1905,
although the auxiliary reservoir and
the full local distribution would still
require several months for completion.
Even in the United States it is rare
indeed that a water supply of this
magnitude is conceived, designed and
executed in so short a time, and, con
sidering the delays in securing the
material and especially the difficulty
experienced in obtaining the proper
quality and quantity of labor, the re
sult of this particular installation was
certainly gratifying. And the credit
therefor is due to Mr. Carleton E.
Davis and his efficient staff of assist
ants.
Champion Talker of Congress.
Littlefield, of Maine, is the cham
pion talker of the house. He rattles
off hit words faster than an auctioneer
calling for bids and in very much the
same manner. When interrupting an
other man’s speech he has a way of
emphasizing his words syllable by
syllable and with each syllable he
snaps his head forward as if to break
his own neck. For instance. “The
president’s power is soup-ream.” When
be said that the other day he nearly
cracked the desk in front of him with
his head when he said “soup” and
again when he said “ream."
but little money and with several
small children to support.
“My husband,” she said at last, “has
gone to a better world.”
“Well," said the clerk, deeplj
moved, “that helps some.”
SHE WOULD SPANK DARLINC
Five-Year-Old Was Pumping in thi
Questions Too Fast for
Mother.
They were strolling through one o:
the uptown parks, plainly mother ant
daughter, the latter a child Betweei
five and six years of age. The daugb
ter evidently is learning the letters
and has the regular order of the al
phabet well in her little mind, relates
the New York Sun.
Passing under a big oak tree, tht
mother stopped and picked up a hand
ful of acorns with their cups that hac
fallen from the tree.
“Look, Kathie,” she said to tht
child, “you can take these home foi
cups and saucers for dolly.”
“What are they, mamma?” cried tht
delighted child.
“Acorns,” said the mother.
“Why not B-coms?” said the inter
ested little one.
“Because they grow on that oal*
tree,” said the wise mother.
“Then why not O-corns?” queried
the deep thinking little one.
“I’ll spank you, darling, when we
get home if you ask me any more such
foolish questions,” answered the affec
tionate mother.
e
WORKMAN IS HELD CAPTIVE ON
Broken Scaffold Leaves Him on Nar
row Ledge 150 Feet in Air Until Res
cued by a Nervy Steeplejack.
Philadelphia. — Marooned for 13
weary hours on the top of a chimney
standing 150 feet in the air, John
Burnett was rescued by Joseph Cor
bett, a daring and intrepid “steeple
jack,” in Camden. The rescue was
witnessed by a crowd of fully 1,000
persons, many of whom had stood
near the chimney watching the im
periled man nearly all day, and such
a cheer went up from their throats
as Burnett came down to terra flrma
that the chimney itself threatened to
topple.
The thrilling scene lasted from
seven o’clock in the morning until
eight o'clock at night, with intermit
tent shifting of the center of excite
ment as efforts were made to save the
WITH A MIGHTY EFFORT HE
SCRAMBLED TO THE TOP.
man from what seemed a lingering
death from exposure and starvation.
Burnett is a workman in the em
ploy of a firm of chimney builders of
New York. The firm had a contract
to tear down and build anew the chim
ney at the plant of a nickel company
at Tenth and Elm streets. With
other workmen he had been employed
there several days erecting a scaffold
for the beginning of the demolition.
Burnett was the first man up the
Bcaffold at the start of work at seven
o’clock, and he had not yet reached
the pinnacle of the flimsy structure
when he heard a crash below him and
discovered tc his horror that the scaf
fold was giving way. With a mighty
effort he managed to scramble to the
top of the chimney, where he hung
for dear life, amid the crackling of
the planks and stays of the structure
he had just left.
There he stuck In the winds, which,
at that height, cut him to the very
marrow, and gave him but insecure
hold upon the narrow ledge of bricks.
He never lost courage, however, and
when he heard the shouts of encour
agement from the foreman, John Mc
Mahon, he knew that his plight had
been discovered and that aid would
reach him if human hands and human
brains could accomplish it.
Foreman McMahon got busy as soon
as he discovered the peril of his
fellow-worker. He gathered a lot of
spikes and, with a rope about his
waist, he began to drive them into the
interstices of the bricks of the interior
of the chimney, hoping thus to reach %■
the man.
It was a slow, tedious process and
fraught with great difficulty, but Mc
Mahon stuck bravely to it till he was
compelled to abandon it as useless.
This he discovered after he had gone
some distance from the ground. The
old bricks, corroded and decayed by
the fumes of the chemicals from the
nickel works in years of use, gave th6
spikes such insecure hold that many
of them pulled out at the slightest
pressure.
McMahon had covered pretty near
half the distance to the top of th6
chimney when the discouraging dis
covery was made, and the day was
wearing on. To leave the man at the
top of the chimney all night meant
death, for no human frame could with
stand the rigors of such exposure.
By the time the crowd of people had
grown to immense proportions and all
sorts of suggestions for the rescue of
the man were offered.
“Send up a balloon with a rope,"
said one.
“Fly a kite and let him catch the
string and then send up a rope,” said
another.
Among those really feasible plans
many ridiculous suggestions were of
fered, but the happy one was that of
sending for “Joe Corbett," the
“steeplejack" of local fame, who has
performed many perilous feats on
church spires and chimneys of Cam
den. McMahon grabbed the chance,
fearful that even this might fail, and
in a little while Corbett was at the
scene.
With a stout rope about his waist
Corbett began the slow ascent of
those spikes which held, but he had
half the distance to traverse the top
of the stack when the last spike was
reached. He knew what he was about,
though, and. like the small boy who
climbs up the walls of an alley by
bracing his hands and feet against the
sides and moving foot by foot by main
strength and agility, Corbett began
the wearisome ascent.
It was a nerve-racking wait for the
crowd and the foreman below and a
terrible strain upon the lone man
above, now invisible in the darkness
which had fallen. But the skill of the
brave climber won. After his tedious
effort he managed to reach the end of
his rope to the man on the chimney
top. Burnett made it fast, and Cor
bett was able to get rest for his mus
cles. Then after the latter had let
himself down. Burnett followed, and
when the two men emerged from the
opening at the bottom of the big stack
the cheers of the multitude broke
loose.
Circus Chariot ii\ Wild Runaway Race
Vehicle Loses Its Driver and Thrilling
Contest Ensues—Audience
in a Panic.
Alton, III.—One of the most thrilling
chariot races probably ever witnessed
in this country took place the other
night before 7,000 persons in Alton,
when one of the tandem teams in a
circus lost Its driver in a collision and
becoming maddened charged five times
around the arena, endangering the
lives of more than 1,000 persons.
Joseph Mescal, driver of one of the
chariots, was thrown from his vehicle
in a collision with the chariot driven
by Mrs. Abrams at the second turn
and he was sent flying into the crowd
occupying the seats at the ring side.
When they felt the reins loosen the
animals dashed ahead with renewed
speed, charging full toward the spec
tators at the next turn as if they
would not turn, but would plunge
among the crowd. The people stam
peded for the higher seats and tram
pled upon each other in their excite
ment. Women were seized with hys
teria and screamed.
The horses turned all right and
made down toward the other end of
the track, where a similar panic en
sued.. For fear of another collision
Mrs. Abrams turned her horses out
of the side gate and gave the full
track to the runaways. Around and
around flew the horses, seemingly go
ing faster at every bound.
Dirt was thrown over the spectators
left in the lower seats and several
times the wheels just missed the grand
stand. If it bad knocked the supports
from under this undoubtedly the loss
of life would have been great After
the first circuit or two the spectators
had retreated and were huddle into a
solid mass at the top of the rows of
seats.
Twenty or 30 clowns with bogus
musical Instruments had been giving
a burlesque rehearsal in one of the
rings. When they saw the danger
they dropped their horns and drums
and ran out on the track. They made
several ineffectual efforts to stop the
horses and several times members of
the motley crew had narrow escapes.
Finally as the horses were making
the fifth circuit of the track the
clowns massed at one of the turns and
by waving their arms and shouting
caused the horses to go slower. A
dozen hands seized bridles and reins
and the animals were stopped.
Metical was badly bruised and one
shoulder was dislocated. The injury
was attended to in the dressing room
and lie was taken to the circus train,
where he was put to bed.
■■wry i ,i_1_n »
AROUND AND AROUND FLEW THU
MADDENED HORSES.
Muskrat Attacks Man.
Bridgeport, Conn.—While Joseph
Callahan was passing through Mad
ison avenue a huge muskrat sprang
upon him from the entrance of a sewer
pipe and fastened itB teeth in his right
leg, severing an artery. A desperate
fight ensued. Callahan seized the rat
by the tail and, after great effort, suc
ceeded in loosening its hold and
throwing it into the sewer. With dif
ficulty he reached Emergency hospital,
where he fainted and nearly bled to
death.
Woman of 30 Weds Fourth Husband.
Pottsville. Pa.—Mrs. Mary Novock,
30 years old, of Cass township, has
wedded her fourth husband. He is
Michael O. Belski, one year her senior.
The blushing bride says she doesn’t
think marriage is a failure by any
means and will wed again in the event
of the death of her latest lord and
master
For This Belief Much Thanks.
Little Tommy—Why—?
Pa—Ask your big brother; he grad
uates this summer.—N. Y. Sun.