Newspaper Page Text
8
The Mischief Maker
£y E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM
BOOK 11.
CHAPTER XII.
DISTRESSING NEWS.
Mr*. Carraby advanced into the library
Os th* great house in Grosvenor Square.
Her husband had risen from his desk
and was standing with his hands in his
pockets upon the heart-rug. Her dress
was as neat and correct as ever, hi* hair
as accurately parted, his small mous
tache as cffectutaliy twirled. Yet there
was a frown upon hi* face, an expression
of gloomy peevishness about hi* expres
sion His wife stood and looked at him.
looked at him and thought.
"You are back early.” he said. "What
is the matter? You don't look radiantly
happy. I thought you were looking for
ward so much to this bazar.”
"I was” *he replied. "I am disappoint
ed.”
He saw then that her silence was not
a matter of indifference, but’ of anger.
"W|jat'» wrong?" he asked quickly.
Her lips parted for a moment. One saw
that her teeth were firmly clenched.
There was a wicked light in her strange
colored eyes.
"It was that woman again,” she mut
tered—"the duchess"’
"What about her?” Carraby demanded.'
••She’s bound to be civil to you now.
anyway.”
"Is she?” Mrs. Carraby replied. "I* she.
indeed! Well, her civility this afternoon
has been such that I shall have to give
up my stall. I can't stay there.”
"What do you meant" he demanded.
"Nothing except that before everybody
she once more cut me dead, cut me wick
/ edly.” Mrs. Carraby declared. "You
don't understand the tragedy of this to a
woman. You are not likely to. She did
It in such away this time that there
isn't a person worth knowing in London
who isn't laughing about it at the pres
ent moment.”
"Deast of a womanhe muttered.
Mrs. Carraby came a little further in
to Ihe room. She sank into an easy
chait and sat there. Her hand* were
tigbtlv clenched, her face was hard and
e* cold; her tone icy. Yet one felt that
underneath a tempest was raging.
"You know, Algernon." she went on.
"we ha« some hard times when you first
began tc make your way a little. When
we first took this house, even. things
weren't altogether easy. Americans can
come from nowhere, do the most outrag
eous things in the world, and take London
by storm. London, on the other hand,
is cruel to English people who have only
their tnoffry. She was cruel to us. Alger
non. but with aH the snubs and all the
difficulties. I ever had. nothing ha* ever
happened to me like today.”
"You’ll get over It."
"Get over it!” she repeated. "Yes. but
I thought that that sort of thing was
at an end. I thought that when you
were a cabinet minister no one would
dare treat me as though I were a social
nobody.”
"You must remember that the duchess
has a special reason," he reminded her.
"I suppose it's that Portel affair.”
"Yes.” Mrs. Carraby agreed, "it is the
Portel affair.”
They were both silent. There wasn’t
much to be said for the moment.
"Have you heardY’ he inquired pres
ently, "whether Lady Anne is with him
tn Paris? ' ,
"No.” she replied. "Somehow or other,
people don't seem to talk scandal about
Lady Anne. They say that she is stay
ing for a time with an old friend there,
Algernonl"
“YesY’
"Is It trie that you are doing so badly
at the foreign officer' she asked blunt-
A little flush mounted almost to his
forehead.
“I have had the devil's own luck,” he
muttered.
“I can't take up a newspaper.” she
continued bitterly, "without finding it full
of abuse of you. They say that during
six weeks the entente cordiale has van
ished. They say that you have lost the
friendship of France, that she trusts us
no longer, and that Germany's tone be
comes more threatening and more belly
ing every day. solely on account of your
• weakness."
"We can't afford to risk a war,” Car
raby explained. "I am a radical minis
ter. I have represented a radical con
stituency ever since I came into parlia
ment. What the devil should I have to
say to my people if within a couple of
months of taking office we were plung
ed into war?”
"I do not pretend.” Mrs. Carraby re
marked. “to be an active politician, but
I have heard it said that the .best way
to avoid war is to show that you are
not afraid of It. They say that that
Is where Sir Julien Portel was so splen
did. Do you know that the leading ar
ticle of one of your own papers this
morning declares that Germany would
never have dared to have said so much
to us if she had not known that she had
only a puppet to deal with in the cabi
net? You know what all the other papers
are hinting at? Is it true, Algernon, that
you gave two hundred thousand pounds
to the party ?*’
"Whether It is true or not.” Carraby
retorted. "It makes no difference. I want
ed this post, wanted it for your sake as
much as my own. a"hd I wish to Heaven
that it was at the bottom of the sea! I’d
resign tomorrow if I could do so with
dignity. I can't now, of course. Every
one would say I was chucked. To make
things worse.” he went on savagely,
"there comes these infernal letters of
Portel’*!”
Mrs. Carraby raised her eyebrows.
"Why, I’ve heard It said that those
letters are the one hope this country
has! I have heard it said that but for
those letters France and England would
be as far apart today as they ever were.
I heard it said only this afternoon that
those letters were our only hope of
, peace. They were compared with the
letters of Junius, whoever he was. Lord
Cardington told me himself that they
were the most splendid political prose
he had ever read in his life.”
“That may be true enough.” Carraby
growled, “but they make it all the hard
er for me- No doubt Portel was a good
minister. No doubt he was doing very
well in his poet. Now he writes these
letters every one remembers it, every
one is asking for him back again. It's
hell. Mabel! I wish to God we'd let the
man alone!”
Mrs. Carraby looked at her husband
steadfastly. She was a little taller than
he. She looked at him, from his well
brushed hair to the trim patent boot*
which adorned his axoall feet. She look
ed at him and in those strange-colored
eyes of her* were unmentionable things.
She turned away and walked to the win
dow In imagination she was back
again In Julien's rooms. She lived again
through those few minutes. If he had
answered differently!
Outside in the square the newboys
were shouting. She had stood before
the window for some time when a fa
miliar name fell upon her ears. She
turned around and touched a bell.
"What is it that you want?' her hus
band asked.
"A paper,” she replied.
A very correct butler brought her the
Pall Mall Gaxette a moment or two lat
er She scanned it eagerly. Then it
slipped from her shuddering fingers.
She turned upon her husband.
“He is dead!” she cried. "Can’t you
read it? Death of an Englishman in
an explosion in Pari* Mr. Kendricks, a
journalist, seriously injured; Sir Julien
Portel. the ex-cabinet minister.—dead!”
She stood as though turned to stone.
Then something in her husband's face
seemed to bring her back to the present.
She turned upon him. Her face was
suddenly lit with some strange, quiv
ering fire. It was one of the moments
of her life.
“You miserable worm!” she shrieked.
‘•You dare to stand there and smile be
cause a man is dead! You!”
He tried to draw himself up, tried to
rebuke her. He might as well have
tried to stem a torrent.
"I have done my best to share your
rotten, scheming life,” she cried, "to
help you in your dirty ways, and to
crawl up into the place we coveted!
Once I saw the truth. Once a real man
was kind to me and I saw the differ
ence. I’ve felt it in try heart ever
since. For your sake and my own, for
the sake of our rotten, miserable ambi
tions, I ruined him and sent him to
his death. He is dead, do you hear?
You I did it! We are murderers!
And to think that I did it for you!
That you—such a creature as you—
might take his place!”
She threw up her hands high above
her head. There had been people who
had doubted her good looks. No one at
that instant would have denied her
beauty. Carraby’s eyes were fixed upon
her, and he was afraid. Even when
she had cast herself face downward up
on the couch, and lay with her head
buried in her hands, he dared not go
near. He stood there gazing at her
across the room. Perhaps he, too, though
his understanding was less, tasted a lit
tle of the poison!
In the splendid library of his palace
in Berlin, the maker of toys leaned
back in his chair after a long and hard
day’s work. There lingered upon his
lips still the remnants of a grim smile,
which the dictation of a despatch to
London had just evoked. His secreta
ry gathered up his papers. His mas
ter was disposed to be genial.
"My young friend," he remarked,
“those letters from Paris—they were
stopped just in time, eh?”
“Just in time, indeed. Highness," the
young man replied. "I have friends
who me from there. They as
sure /ne that their effect was tremen
dous. The cessation of them was in
deed an act of Providence.’
Prince Falkerberg's lips relaxed,
There were hard lines at' the corners
of his mouth. Yet if this were indeed
a smile, it was no pleasant thing to
look upon! ,
"An act of Providence without a
doubt!” he exclaimed—" Providence
which watches always over the desti
nies of our dear Fatherland!”
“I shall bring you now, Hlghnesfe, the
foreign papers!" the young man sug
gested.
"If you please,” his master replied.
"I read them now, thank Heaven, with
an easier feeling.’ /
The young man retreated and reap
peared in a few minutes with a pile of
newspapers. Prince Falkenberg rose
and stretched himself, lit a long black
cigar, and threw himself into a com
fortable chair before the high window.
"Your Highness will take some cof
fee, perhapsY’ the young man asked.
"Presently."
The great minister unfolded his
newspapers. A reference in the Eng
lish Times perplexed him. He turned
to the journal which only a few days
ago he had opened with almost a shud
der. He undid the wrapper, shook ft
open, and looked at it. Then suddenly
he sat like a man turned to stone. The
cigar burnt out between his teeth, his
eyes were riveted upon that page, the
black letters seemed to have become
iurid. The sentences stabbed, he was
face to face with the Impossible. The
paper which he read was dated on the
preceding day. Before him was a
fourth article, dated from Paris, dat
ed less than forty-eight hours ago,
signed "Julien Portel." The title of
the article was "The World’s Great
Mischief-Maker!” He read on. read
from the first sentence to the last the
naked truth about himself, saw his
motives exposed, his secret visits to
Paris derided, his foibles photographed.
He saw himself the laughing stock of
urope. Then he leaned over and rang
the bell.
"Neudhelm,” he said, "let it be given
out that I leave tonight for Falkenberg
as usual. Let the automobile be pre
pared for a long journey. I leave in
half an hour.”
The young man stared. He had fan
cied that those flying visits of his
master’s for a time were to be dis
continued.
"Your Highness goes south T’ he
asked.
”1 drive all night,” Prince Falken
berg replied. "See that the Count Ru
dolf is prepared :o accompany me.
Quick! Give the orders.”
CHAPTER XIII.
ESTERMEN’B DEATH WARRANT.
In the untidy salon of his bachelor
apartments in the Boulevard Maupas
sant Estermen awaited the coming of
his master in veritable fear and trem
bling. In all his experience he had
never been compelled to face a crisis
such as this. There had been small
failures, punished, perhaps, by a sar
castic word or biting sentence. There
had been no failure to compare with
this one. Herr Freudenberg deliberate
ly, and of his own free choice .was
accustomed to take huge risks. When
they came he accepted them, but when
they were not inevitable he as sedul
ously avoided them. The wrecking of
Julien's apartments in the Rue de
Montpelier was by far the most haz
ardous enterprise which had been at
tempted since the days of the toy
maker’s first secret visits to Paris.
Half a dozen human beings had been
done to death in a manner wrich in
vited and even challenged the atten
tions of the French police. A terrible
risk had been run and run in vain. The
blow had been struck at the very mo
ment when its object was unattain
able. Estermen shivered as he tried
to imagine for himself the coming in
terview. Gone, he feared, was his life
of pleasant luxury among the flesh
pots ard easy ways of Paris; his bach
elor apartments, occupied in name by
him, but of which the real tenant was
his dreaded master. And behind all
this apprehension lurked another grisly
and terrible fear. For the 20th time
during the last few minutes he peered
through the closely drawn Venetian
blind, and his blood ran cold. On the
pavement opposite, before the small
table of a case, a man was sitting—
the same man! For two days he had
been there—a gaunt and silent person
with a wonderful trick of gazing away
into space from the columns of his
newspaper. But Estermen knew all
about that! He knew, even, the man's
name! He knew that he was one of
the most persistent and successful of
French detectives. His name was Jean
Charles and he had never known a
failure. Estermen looked at him
through the blind and his pale face
was ugly with fear.
The moment arrived. The long, gray
traveling car, covered with dust,
swung around the corner and stopped
below. Herr Freudenberg was travel
stained and almost unrecognizable in
his motor clothes as he stepped out
end passed into the block of apart
ments. Contrary to his usual custom,
he did not at once present himself be-
THE ATLANTA SEMI-WEEKLY JOURNAL, ATLANTA, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 5, 1912.
fore the man wh<x awaited him in
fear and trembling. Estermen heard
him enter his own suite of rooms on
the other side of the stairway and give
a few brief orders. Then there was
a peremptory knock at the door. Herr
Freudenberg was announced and enter
ed.
To the man who had been waiting for
his sentence there was something terri
ble in the grim impassivity of Prince
Falkenberg’s features. His face was set
and white and sphinx-like. Only his
eyes shone with a tierce, unusual fire.
"What have you to say, Estermen?’’ he
demanded.
"Sir Julien descended the stairs with
the copy in his hand to speak to a call
er. For 17 hours he had been in his
rooms, for the following 17 hours he
would probably have been there, too.
For the intervening 30 seconds he hap
pened to be upon the pavement. It was
a miracle!”
This was the end of all the specious
story which Estermen had gone over
so often to himself. Yet he had done his
cause no harm, for the few sentences he
spoke were the truth.
"You have discovered his present
whereabouts?” his master demanded.
Estermen hesitated. He feared that
this was another blow which he was
about to deal.
"He is at the house of Madame Chris
tered.
His news, however, did not discompose
Prince Falkenberg. On the contrary, he
seemed, if anything, to find the intelli
gence agreeable.
"Have you made any inquiries as to his
condition?”
Estermen shrugged his shoulders.
"The household of Madame Christo
phor,” he replied, "is, as you know,
outside my sphere of influence. It is,
besides, incorruptible. I myself am per
sonally obnoxious to Madame. I could
do nothing but wait for your coming.”
Prince Falkenberg stood with his hands
behind him, thinking. He had relapsed
into his former grim and impenetrable
silence. And while he waited th* sweat
stood out in beads upon Estermen’s fore
head. Greatly he feared that the worst
was to come.
“Have you anything else to say to
me?” his master asked.
“Nothing," Estermen replied, with
faltering lips.
Prince Falkenberg’s eyes were , fierce
orbs of light and his servant quailed be
fore him.
"Have you any reason to believe that
the origin of the crime is suspected?”
It was the question which above all
others he had dreaded. Estermen was a
coward and a fluent liar. The latter
gift, however, availed him nothing. He
felt as though the nerves of his tongue
were being controlled by some other
agency. Against his will he told the
truth.
"Jean Charles is watching these apart
ments!” .
"Ah!”
Prince Falkenberg’s single exclama
tion was the death sentence of his agent.
Estermen knew it and his knees knock
ed one against the other.
"For six years,” Prince Falkenberg
said, after a moment’s pause, “you have
lived an easy and a comfortable life, Es
termen, a life, I dare say, spent among
the gutter vices which would naturally
appeal to a person of your temperament;
a life, apart from the small services
which I have required of you, directed
altogether by your own Inclinations. Be
thankful for those six years. As you
well know, but for me they would have
been spent either in prison or in the
problematical future world—a matter en
tirely at the discretion of the judge who
tried you. It pleashed me to rescue you
for my own purpose. You were possess
ed of a certain amount of low cunning
and a complete absence of all ordinary
human qualities, a combination which
made you a useful servant of my will.
My one condition has always been before
you. The present case demands your ful
filment of it.” ,
Estermen began to tremble.
“The man may be there by accident,”
he faltered. “There is no certainty as
yet that I am suspected. I’m—l’m horri
bly afraid to die!” he added, with an
ugly little laugh.
"So are most men of your kidney,”
Prince Falkenberg replied composedly
"Nevertheless, die you must, and to
night. Write your confession. Make it
clear that one of the victims was your
personal enemy. I'll dictate it if you
like.” ' • >
"I can do it myself,” Estermen mut
tered. "Let me—let me write the con
fession first and then make an attempt
to escape," he pleaded. “If I am taken,
the confession shall be found upon me.
It will make no difference. Let me have
a chance! I know the secret places of
the city. I have friends who might help
me to escape."
Prince Falkenberg watched his agent
for a moment in contemptuous curiosity.
Estermen was walking restlessly up and
down the few feet of carpet, his fingers
and the muscles of his face twitching.
His words had come with difficulty, as
though he had suddenly developed an
Impediment in his speech. His sallow
complexion had become yellow. His care
fully waxed mustache was drooping, a
speck of saliva was issuing from his
lips.
"The request which you make to me,”
Prince Falkenberg replied, "I absolutely
refuse. I know you and your cowardly
temperament too well to allow you to
come alive into the hands of the French
police.”
“You value your own life highly
enough!” Estermen snarled.
"It is not so,” Prince Falkenberg as
serted. "If I had ever valued my own
life highly there would have been no
Herr Freudenberg; and if the whole his
tory of Herr\ Freudenberg is discovered,
I follow you, my friend, post haste. If I
seem to be taking any pains to hold my
own, remember that mine is a life which
is valuable to the Fatherland. You have
been and you are only a feeder at the
troughs. One more or less such as you
in the world makes just the difference of
a speck of dust—that is all.”
Estermen shrank cowering into his seat.
"I’d rather live—in torture—in prison
or in chains—anywhere!” he gapped. “I
can’t think of death!”
Prince Falkerberg was becoming im
patient.
"My dear Estermen,” he exclaimed,
“what prison do you suppose remains
open for the murderer of seven men!
You shrink from death. Yet let me as
sure you that the guillotine, with the
certain prospect of it before you day
after doay through a long trial, is no
pleasant outlet from the world for a
sybarite. Be a philosopher. Go and die
as you have lived. Write-your confession,
summon your dearest friend by telephone,
give a little supper—j ou’ll have plenty
of time—but see that the affair is over
before midnight!’ This is my advice to
you, Estermen; these are also my orders,
my final orders. If I find you alive
when I return, or the confession unwrit
ten, I will show you how death may be
made more horrible than anything you
have yet conceived.”
Prince Falkerberg turned on his heel
and left the apartment. Estermen re
mained for several moments shrinking
back in the chair upon which he had
collapsed. Then he rose and with trem
bling footstep stole to the window,
peering out frem behind the blind. Tne
man at the case oposite was still there!
(Continued la Next Issue.)
HOSTS OF CANDIDATES
WANT WHITFIELD VOTE
Forty ; six Would-be Office
Holders Have Qualified
for Contest
(Special Dispatch to The Journal.)
DALTON, Ga., June 2.—lntense Interest
•ocally centers in the primary for county
officers to be held here in August, for
the number of aspirants is a record
breaker. July 1 was the time for closing
the entry list, and by Monday night, 46
candidates had qualified by paying the
required entrance fees.
Only two of the candidates are unop
posed. W. A. Broadrick will be re-elect
ed tax receiver, and Peck Worthy will be
named surveyor. No one wanted to look
after the deari folk, for not a candidate
announced for coroner. The rule will be
broken in this instance; If any one
shows a desire for the office, his name
will be put on the ticket.
Fourteen are out for treasurer, and the
board of commissioners will be selected
from 12 candidates. The names of the
qualified candidates are as follows:
For senator from Forty-third district:
M. C. Tarver and J. A. Longley.
For representative: S. E. Berry and E.
B. Holland.
For ordinary: J. M. Davis, Joseph Bo
gle, W. H. Islbill, H. J. Wood, R. A.
Williams.
For sheriff: C. A. Connally. S. A.
Vaughn, F. J. Vining, J. H. Gilbert. T.
F. Howard.
For clerk superior court: J. D. Field,
W. M. Sapp.
For tax collector: J. T. Nichols, J. H.
Smith.
For tax receiver: W. A. Broadrick.
For treasurer: Jim Leonard, J. M. Cash
L. R. Morgan, J. A. Blanton, Sam Thom
as, Will McNally, N. G. Henderson, T.
M. Kirby, J. T. Coker, Joe Smith, Lon •
Bohanan, Charley Hall, J. A. Shope, J. <
L. Ledford. 1
For surveyor: Peck Worthy. <
For county commissioners: J. H. Carr,
Hundreds T? T? T?
of Dollars £IXII/11/
To Agents of The Semi-Weekly Journal in Our
Great Profit-Sharing Contest. The Offer Is
Open to All.
You Take No Chances
The harder you work the more money you will make and the more the prize winners will <
receive. Our offer is as follows: For every yearly subscription that you secure to The Semi- •
Weekly Journal we will allow you 25c commission and in addition we will deposit in a special I
fund 10c for each and every yearly subscription sent in by all agents. This 10c of each sub- |
scription received from our agents w r ill be held and given as prizes as follows: J
50 Per Cent of Fund to Agent Sending Largest Number of Yearly Subs
25 Per Cent of Fund to Agent Sending 2d Largest Number of Y early Subs
15 Per Cent of Fund to Agent Sending 3d Largest Number of Yearly Subs
10 Per Cent of Fund to Agent Sending 4th Largest Number of Yearly Subs
5.,4 1 ■ I • |
If our agents will take an interest in this contest they can make it the largest contest ever i
conducted in the South. You have all .to gain and nothing to loe by entering, for you get your
commission on the subscription and in addition we place 10 cents for each yearly subscription in
this fund as additional pay for your services. Remember, every subscription brings the
fund up just that much more, so the more subscriptions you secure the greater the fund will
be and the more money you will have to divide among the four winners when the contest closes, _ 1
August 31, 1912.
Write the contest editor right away and ask for further information; special contest order
blanks may be had upon application.
Each yearly subscription at 75 cents a year, or any of our combinations at SI.OO, will count
in this contest. 25 cents commission allowed on either.
In case of a tie for any prize, the amount of the prize tied for will be divided equally among
those tieing.
, Address All Communications or Orders to
CONTEST EDITOR
Semi-Weekly Journal
ATLANTA, GA.
. r . , .
- . ■ . <■ "• • • , ■ ■ ... • . .... ' . ■. ■ V , .. • . ..... - .. . ...
NORTH ADAMS, MASS., FIRE
SWEEPS BUSINESS BLOCKS;
PEOPLE FLEE FOR LIVES
(B? Associated Press.) at $300,000, with the flames still rag-
NORTH ADAMS, Mass., July 2.—A Are Ing.
which was discovered shortly before day- Wilson s hotel the Empire theater and
. . , . ~ three business blocks were on Are at
break today threatened an hour later to h our -
destroy a large part of the business sec- More than a hundred guests at Wil
tion of the city. son’s hotel escaped from the building
The loss at 4:20 o’clock was estimated In their night clothes.
POSTAL WIRE RATES
LOWER FROM ATLANTA
The Postal Telegraph company has
notified Its local manager, A. M. Beatty,
that, effective July 1, telegraph rates
from Atlanta, Ga., to a number of points
will be reduced from 40 cents for ten
words to 30 cents. The rate for all word*
In excess of ten has been reduced from
3 cents to 2 cents per word.
The rates in the future from Atlanta
to the following points are:
Asheville, N. C„ 30-2; Easley, ?. C.,
30-2; Morristown, Tenn., 30-2; Murfrees
boro, Tenn., 30-2, and quite a few other
points in the south.
Russell Appointed
(Special Dispatch to The Journal.)
DALTON, Ga., July 3.—Rev. J. E. Rus
sell, pastor of Hamilton Street Meth
odist church and chaplain of the Frank
Jackson camp. United Sons of Confeder
ate Veterans, has been notified by Ad
jutant General N. B. Forrest of his ap
pointment as assistant chaplain general
on his staff. Rev. Mr. Russell has ac
cepted the commission.
J. C. Johnston, W. R. Evlt, J. N« Crow.
J. B. Hayes, D. C. Henton, G. W. Staf
ford, R. J. L Richardson. G M. Mitch
ell, S. J. Boyles, J. B. Wallace, W. H.
Westbrook.
FT. OGLETHORPE TROOPS
ARRIVE AT ANNISTON
ANNISTON, Ala., July 3.—Five hun
i dred and ninety-four regular army cav
alrymen arrived in Anniston Tuesday
, from Fort Oglethorpe, Ga.. the trip being
made across the country in regular army
fashion.
There are 30 officers and 564 men in
the party. Troops B, C and D made the
march. Troop A arriving a few days ago.
Twenty-three escort, wagons and three
ambulances were brought along. These
. regular army men will remain in Annis
ton from this date until the close of
the maneuvers, in the latter part of Au
gust.
THOMASTON MERCHANTS
REMOVE STREET SIGNS
THOMASTON, Ga., July 3.—Every
merchant and business man In Thomas
ton agreed on July 1 to remove all
street signs hanging over he sidewalks
and streets of this town. Thomaston
has had about 100 of these signs, which
were unsightly.
Some time last year one blew down
and broke a plate glass window in A.
A. Britt’s store, and the one of the
Bank of Thomaston blew down in a
gale and narrowly missed a school
child.
CANDIDATES TO SPEAK
AT QUITMAN THURSDAY
Congressional and Legislative
Aspirants Will Take
Part
(Special Dispatch to The Journal.)
QUITMAN. Ga.. July 3. —The Fourthi
of July will be celebrated here by %
barbecue and political speech-fest ow
: :he court house square, and a isnrs
crown is expected from the country a*
well as the town. Mr. John M. Slaton,
gubernatorial candidate, was expected*
but a previous engagement will prevent
his attendance.
Mr. J. Randall Walker, candidate for
congress from the Eleventh district i«
another speaker on the program for
the occasion, and E. H. Beck, represent
ative in the legislature from this coun
ty, who is running for the office of stat*
school commissioner, is also expected.
Besides these, there will be a host of
local candidates present, one of whom.
Grover Cleveland Edmbndson, is evl
i dently expecting trouble and has appeal
ed to the police for protection.
He is a candidate for the legislature
1 and has advertised that he will speak on
the issues o fthe campaign, regardless
• of “threats” that he would be attacked
by his enemies. He is an ardent ad-* .
mirer of Thomas E. Watson and has'ad
vertised that his speech will be “red J
headed.”
, His appeal to the police for protection!
» is regarded as another tribute to ths
picturesque methods employed by Mrz-
' Watson, as rowdyism on such occasional
• is unknown here and the public would!
I have to be prodded to make it fight
i about political issues.
i —.
J, L. Smith Dies
> CARNESVILLE, Ga., July 3.—John L*
Smith died Tuesday morning at hfs
> home, six miles south of
; He had served as county treasurer of
I Franklin county for four years. He had
been in bad health for som» time.
