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liW 1 ! IMS Sfflß ■ wB/ V > XIX. IMPRISONED IN CUBA- PART I. the mysterious package. There is not a class o£ men in the world who ■possess such a horror of police and prisons, and regard with such veneration and respect the ■Jaw and its of ten-times mysterious workings as ■“those who go down to the sea in ships,” and although they often find themselves “fouled” in its meshes, it is generally due to accident, or the machinations of some “land-shark;” or per ihaps, in dealing with unprincipled people “along shore,” the sailor may he unwittingly flaught in the net spread to ensnare him. Although the mariner may boa veritable giant when upon the broad, trackless ocean, ho is a mere child if placed among men who have their training upon terra firma; and the simplicity of the sailor is often the cause of his being arraigned before the bar of justice. It is very seldom that one will find a seaman •deliberately committing a deed which will lay himself liable to arrest, and when such a case is met with it will almost invariably be found that the act was done to assist a friend or shield a comrade from the consequences of ■Some misdeed. A few years ago, shortly after the capture of Captain Frye and crew of the American steam er, Virginias, and tlie subsequent execution of a part of the same by the Cuban authorities, I became entangled with the Spanish soldiers of lhe beautiful tropic isle of Cuba, and my ac quaintance with them came very near putting an end to my voyage of life. I was a master of a trim little barque sailing Ji'om Boston and engaged in the West India ’trade. One evening while the vessel was lying at a wharf in the latter port where she was receiv ing cargo for Matanzas, I was sitting upon the {quarter rail enjoying an after-supper smoke, when I observed a young man of perhaps twenty-five years of age coming down the dock very leisurely. As he got abreast of where I was seated, he Stopped, and with a very affable smile, bade mo “good evening,” and then inquired if wo ■were not bound to the West Indies. Assuring him that wo were, he stepped aboard, remark ing that he belonged in Cuba, and was looking lor a vessel in which to take passage. I rather liked the appearance of the stranger, ,and seeing a chance to make a few dollars for ■piy owners by taking a passenger, as we had plenty of room in the cabin, I offered to take him, and wo soon agreed upon terms; the Stranger promising to give me fifty dollars in the morning for his passage to the island. The following day, while sipping coffee in •company with the mate, I was surprised to see Our prospective passenger with a small valise in hand hurrying down the wharf. There was no one about, as the hour was •quite early. He stepped quickly on board, and with the profound politeness peculiar to the Cuban peo ple, bade me a “very good morning.” After partaking of a cup of coffee with us I invited jhim below and showed him the room ho was to occupy during the passage. lie was very well satisfied with the accom xnodatlons, and taking out a well-filled wallet the paid me the price agreed upon, then and there. “This bag,” he remarked, indicating the small satchel in his hand, “contains some arti cles of value, and I should be well pleased if you would take care of it for me until we teach Matanzas.” Os course I was perfectly willing to accom snodate him, and took the bag; he then went ashore, promising to be on board in the even ing, as we were going to sea the following morning. When left alone I turned my attention to the bag which was still in my hand ; it was small and neat, and, I judged, quite an expen sive affair. Turning it over I observed an address pain ted in white letters upon the bottom; it read, “Senor Roderiquez Gonzales, 13 Plaza di Poco, Jdatanza, Cuba.” The Plaza di Poco I knew quite well, as I Siad been many times to Matanzas, and had •teamed considerably about the city. It was a pleasant little open square, sur rounded by the homes of the middle class, most of whom were native-born Cubans. However, I had not much time to spend With the bag, so I threw it into my bunk and closed and locked the state-room door before going ashore. A master of a vessel is always very busy on the day before sailing, as there is sure to be a great deal of business to attend to, and my pas senger never entered my mind but once, and that was when I went to “clear” at the custom iiouse. It was quite late when I returned to the ves sel, and on entering my room, the presence of the bag reminded me of the Cuban, so calling tlie mate, I inquired if the stranger had yet Come aboard. “No, sir, I’ve seen nothing of him,” was the •officer's reply. In the morning everything was bustling and active. The crew were aboard and the tow boat alongside shortly after daylight, but noth ing had yet been seen of our passenger. The pilot and the captain of the tug were anxious to start, but I was bound to wait until the last moment to give the young fellow a chance. Soon our overtaxed patience was rewarded. A hack dashed down the wharf and drew up at the vessel’s side. It was not the Cuban who alighted, however, but a telegraph boy waving a dispatch in his hand and calling for “Captain Graham, barque •Rambler.’ ” “Here,boy .here!” I cried, jumping into the mizzen channels to reach the message, which J quickly tore open and read: “Captain Graham, barque Rambler, Consti tution wharf, Boston. Through unforeseen circumstances it will be impossible for me to make the passage with you. Please deliver the little bag I left to the address upon it, and retain the money I paid you for your trouble. Q. D. Gonzalez. Hastily thrusting the bit of paper into my pocket, I called to the pilot, “All right, pilot, let tier go”—and in a few moments wo were heading down the harbor, the tow-boat puffing away alongside, while the crew were rapidly Spreading the white canvass to catch tho strong, westerly wind that was to give us a good start upon our voyage; and as may be supposed there was now no thought of the' Cu ban left behind. The passage down to the island was without event and we came to anchor in Matanzas after a run of eighteen days. AVe were, of course, boarded by the full force ■of Cuban officials, revenue, military and naval, and after a close scrutiny of our papers and a rigid search of the barque I was allowed to go ftshore to report to the consignees and “enter” i the vessel. I had not thought it necessary to inform the Customs authorities of the Cuban’s trust as I jfelt assured that I could any time during our [ etay in port, deliver it to the address and no ! one would be the wiser. It is true that the officers looked at me very fjueerly when I explained the absence of tho basseuger whose name was on the manifest, but as lie had not been found on board the ves lei, they were obliged to accept my story ; still I noticed that my movements were more close ly watched than they had ever before been; £uey even went so far as to place, beside the regular custom house officer, a soldier of the army on board the vessel. This strict surveillance did not at all please me and I was now determined to deliver the bag to No. 13 Plaza di Poco in spite of all the Spaniards on the island. I fully realized that it would be no easy mat ter to get the bag out of tho vessel without the officers detecting mo, although it was but a small parcel. I watched my chance, however, and one day it came. Several American captains, whose vessels were in port, had made up a party to visit tho renowned Crystal cave that lies upon the east ern side of the Bay of Matanzas. Os course each one must carry some refreshments for themselves and their boat's crew, and here I saw an opportunity to smuggle the bag ashore. Accordingly, tho night before the picnic, I spoke to the officers over a glass of brandy which I put out for their special benefit, and requested permission to take some eatibles ashore the next day. They gave their consent without hesitation, and I at onco called the stewart topackup his “dog basket” with provisions and drinkables, and purposely had him make a display of do ing this before the officials, as I wanted them to see everything that went into the basket. After it was full we left it on thecabin table ready for the morning, as wo were to start by daylight. Along the middle of the night when I was sure that everything was quiet, I turned out and, securing tho basket, hurried back to my room where I removed some of the food and put tho Cuban’s bag in its stead and again re turned the basket to the cabin table. All the time I could hear the footsteps of the officer, who was on watch, pacing the deck overhead, but as there was no light in the cabin I had no fear of being detected. In the morning everything worked as I had expected; I went over into the boat in which were two of my men, and the steward handed down the basket; waving an adieu to the officers we pulled away across the bay. AV ben well over to the eastern shore I took the bag out of the basket and changed the course of the boat so as to land on the outskirts of the city. Reaching the shore I instructed my men to pull for the cave 'where they would meet the other captains and deliver the basket to them, and say that “business had called me to town, but I would join them some time during the day.” A few minutes later I was seated in a Volati le (Cuban carriage) and was being driven slowly (a Cuban team will never travel fast) in tho direction of the Plaza di Poco. Turning into the square, in the centre of which were growing rare and beautiful t Top ical plants, I observed several policemen and Spanish soldiers lounging about, but as one cannot take fifty stops in any Cuban city without meeting one or more of these servant's of the crown, I paid but little attention to their presence. I however ordered the carrage to stop sever al doors from the house of which I was in searh ; and. after dismissing the driver, I proceeded on foot. Number thirteen differed little from its neighbors, save an unusual air of quiet by which it seemed to be surotpided; it. had the same large iron gateway, leading Into the enclosed area peculiar to all Cuban houses; the same long, barred, open windows, but, unlike the majority, these were furnished with close blinds which effectually precluded tho passer-by from obtaining the slightets glimpse of the enterior of the dwelling. Anproacingthe gate I rapped loudly with the ponderous knocker, and my summons was quickly answered by an old man who took in my whole dimensions before dropping tho fast enings of the gate, and then not until I had repeating tlie name of Roderiquez Gonzalez, thirteen, Plaza di Poco, several times. Finally, appearing satisfied that I had a right to call, he opened tlie gate just far enough for me to squeeze in, and then after again securing the fastenings, he led tho way across a paved court, in the centre of which was playing a miniature fountain, into cool room and from thence into another which was quite dark, but as my eyes became accustomed to tho gloom I could see that it was a chamber, nice ly furnished, and upon a couch in tho middle of the apartment was the outline of a recum bent form, which started up at our approach. My guide spoke a few words in Spanish and then retired, while the person upon the couch arose, and throwing open one of the blinds al lowed a stream of light to enter the apartment, and by its aid I could see that I was in the presence of a fine looking gentleman some what past the meridian of life but with a tall figure still erect, and with eyes that flashed out brightly from beneath a pair of gray brows. Turning, he addressed me in his native tongue, only a few words of which I could un derstand, but by those few I knew that he bade me welcome, and inquired the object of my visit. I replied in English, asking if I had the pleasure of speaking to Senor Roderiquez Gonzalez. “I am he,” ho returned, in English which had but a slight accent, “in what can I serve you?” Before I could respond his eyes fell upon the bag; instantly his whole manner changed. In voluntary he sprang forward and reached out his hand as if to grasp it, and then collecting himself he looked searching!}' into my face. “That bag—where did you get it?” he ex claimed, impetuously, but in a low, subdued voice. “It is yours,” I replied, handing him tho satchel, “at least this is the place where I was instructed to leave it.” If the bag had contained the riches of Gol conda, he could not have received it more eagerly. “Excuse me a moment, but remain here”— and with that he hurrieuly left the apart ment. He might have been gone perhaps ten min utes when he returned and approaching tho window closed the blind, which left us in total darkness, then drawing a chair close to mine, he inquired eagerly as to how the bag had come in my possession. I gave him the whole story, described the young Cuban and showed him the message which I had received the morning of sailing. “My boy, my boy,” he murmured, and sever al times during the recital he broke in upon me as though he was about to tell me some thing, but would then quickly chock himself. At the close of my narrative I arose to go when the strange, old man requested me to be seated a few minutes longer, and then again left the room. To say that I was surprised at his manner does not express it. There was certainly some thing very mysterious in it all, and 1 was half tempted to sneak out of the house like a thief, so wrought up were my feelings, when my host again enternd. “Captain,” he began—"you have rendered a service, the value of which you may never ■ know, and thousands yet unborn will bless you | for it. It is impossible for me to repay you for ' all the risk you have run, but take this”— thrusting a packet into my hand—“as a slight | memento of my gratitude. I shouM Invite you I to renew this call upon me, but it would bo j dangerous to us both ; even this may do you injury, though I trust not”—and pressing my Land he unceremoniously pushed mo before him through a series of hallways and rooms to I a rear entrance and left me bewildered upon the street with the package in my hand which I I had not had the presem e of mind to refuse. I For a moment I stood still, not knowing ex actly which way to turn and feeling that I had I undoubtedly escaped from a call upon a lu- I natic, when I was startled by the exclamation. Bonos dios, senor!” and looking up recog nized the features of an army officer who had .frequently been loitering around the ship „ chandler's, the custom house and other places ATLANTA, GA., TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 1887 about the water front where my business called me. His appearance recalled mo to my senses and awkwardly answering tlie salutation. I turned on my heel and hurried away, nor stopped for anything until seated in a boat and being pulled off to my vessel, anil did not breathe easy until I stepped over tlie rail to the deck, and even then a glance at the packet which I still clutched in my hand was suffi cient to cause me to tremble. Hurrying through the cabin I entered my own room, closed the door and broke open tho package and tojniy surprise out foil 'several United States bank bills. PART 11. THE ARREST. I gathered tho money up, and it counted just two hundred and fifty dollars; then I sat down and pondered. Surely the contents of the bag must have been of great value to have called forth such a present, but tho more I tried to explain tho affair to myself, the more I was puzzled. The day wore slowly away; at sundown the boat returned bringing word that tho other captains were disappointed at my not being with them. At an early hour I sought my bed in any thing but a tranquil frame of mind, for I knew that should tho authorities discover that I iiad carried the bag ashore and left it, no matter what the contents might be, it would go hard with mo, for the Spaniard of the AA’est Indies has little love for tho American, and is only to well pleased to catch one tripping. I might have been midnight when I was awakened from a troubled sleep by the sound of a boat bumping alongside and the voices of strangers on deck. At length several men came down, the forward companion way, but they were met by tho mate who refused them admission to the cabin. They then began loudly calling for the captain. I trembled, I’ll admit it; but there was no alternative, I must face them. So hurrying on my clothing I came out into the cabin and met the officers. “AVe must take you ashore, captain,” re marked one of the soldiers in English. “For what?” I demanded. “That the captain will learn when we reach there”—was the. only satisfaction that I got, and unceremoniously they hustledjnio out of the vessel and away—but not before I had a chance to tall my mate to inform tho Ameri can consul early in the morning of what had taken place. On leaving the bark I was surprised to see that they did not take the course for the city, but kept away to tho westward “Where are you taking me?” I inquired, in dismay. “See, bimeby,” was the only answer, and I hold my peace. Soon the dark outlines of the shore arose before me, but tho formation of the outline as it broke upon my view caused a shudder to creep over me and almost froze the blood in my veins. It was the fort that we wore approaching, and the sharp angles and lofty turrets stood out grim and threatening against the star-lit sky in the west. Al! the tales that I had over read of the Spanish inquisition and the manner in which they administer justice (?) in Cuba rushed to my mind, ami again the fate of poor Captain Frye was still fresh in my memory. Still I was sure that they could only punish me with a fine for smuggling the bag ashore; yet, suppose that the bag contained something of Importance to the Cuban patriots? AV hat if I had unwittingly been the bearer of valuable mesages to tho insurgents? The thought almost unnerved me. If it was so, and the government had found the packet, I could expect no better fate than fell to the lot of so many of the crew of the Virginias. AVhen the keel of tho boat grated upon the coral rocks at the foot of a flight of stone steps, I was ordered to disembark, and between two soldiers with muskets, and preceded by an offi cer, the ascent was began up the damp, slimy stairs. AVe had not taken many steps when we were hailed by a sentry who was answered by the officer in whose charge I was—we then re sumed our way: soon a bright light shone in our faces and we could see an open door a little above us. Through this door we passed and as it swung to again upon its massive hinges we found ourselves between tw’o rows of soldiers with drawn swords; the apartment seemed to boa sort of guard room or keep. A few moments after our entrance, during which time we had remained standing without a word being spoken, a door in the further end of the room opened and an officer, gaily be decked witli gold lace, entered and approaching our party took some papers from the soldier in charge and began to read them very carefully. AVhen he had finished he waved an adieu to those who had arrested me, and they at once turned and left the apartment by tho same door through which we had entered. Then, at the word of command, two soldiers stepped from the ranks and began to search my pockets and clothing, taking everything that they could find even to my handkerchief. I was next ordered to fall into line with the guard and was marched off through long gloo my passageways, down flight after flight of damp, mouldy steps; past strong iron doors which was easy enough for me to imagine were closed upon some poor mortals who were des tined never again to breathe the pure air of heaven, but to lie entombed within this dismal pile of masonry until welcome death should release them from their suffering, perhaps years after their very names had been forgot ten in their own homes. Onco 1 heard—or thought I heard—a low, distinct moan, that seemed to rise from the fctone flagging beneath our feet. Narrower grew the passage, as we advanced, and by the feeble rays of the single torch car ried by one of the guard. I could see number less lizards, scorpion I, and other creeping rep tiles scamper away at our approach, At length, after a journey which seemed to have led me into tho very bowels of the earth, we were halted before one of the numerous iron doors, which the officer unlocked and opened, and without further ceremony I was thrust into a small, damp, fetid cell, with bare stone walls, floor and roof. By the light of tho torch which streamed into the apartment before the heavy door was swung to, 1 could see that it was entirely empty, save a countless number of those loath some creatures which had darted across our pathway as we came down the corridor. O, what a feeling of despair camo over mo when I found myself alone in total darkness, entombed in this loathsome, subterranean dungeon. Slowly the remaining hours of the night wore away, giving mo plenty of time to think over tho incidents of tho past few weeks and see if I had done anything to deserve such treatment. Easy it was to trace my trouble to the strange youth who had formed my acquaintance in , Boston, but I had committed no crime in deliv- I ering his effects to his family, save in the act of smuggling them ashore and that in Itself was a trivial offense. The more my mind dwelt upon the matter, I the more I was convinced that I had allowed ; myself to become a medium between tho I Cuban patriotsand their sympathizers in tho United States, and tho information or what ever it was that I had delivered must have been of great importance to call forth such a reward from Gonzalez. Vc,, th re was no doubt but what 1 was in for it, and knowing I tho irascible temper of tho Spaniards I felt I that my death was well-nigh certain. After what seemed an ago from the time of my commitment to the prison, a faint streak made its appearance upon one of the walls of my cell; it was the first break of day. The small aperture through which the light struggled was only about fire feet from'tho floor, and I could easily look out. The slit was too narrow to allow a very ex tended range to my vision but I could see that I was confined on the water side of the fort, and directly fronting tho shipping. But this fact afforded me little consolation, for I felt sure that 1 should only leave this dreary dun geon to march to my death. I was gazing wistfully out through tho tiny aperture when I heard tho heavy bolt thrown back and the ponderous door swung open upon its rusty hinges; and turn ng 1 was confronted by an officer and a silo of soldiers armed with muskets. Tho officer, with drawn sword, step ped into the cell, and in a pompous manner ordered me to “fall in,” and we took up our march through tho tortuous passage-way to the light of day above. Issuing from the underground labyrinth of corridors we emerged into a spacious square across which 1 was conducted and placed with my back against tho stone face of a wall, while the soldiers w’ero drawn up in line a few paces in front of mo. Several soldiers now appeared carrying a table and some light camp-stools which they placed quite near me but little to one side, and then retired ; two of them almost immediately returned bearing that grim symbol of death, a coffin. That my time had come I was certain, but I resolved to make a vigorous protest aganst such summary measures, and called loudly for a hearing. But I might have saved my strength, for my protestations were not taken the slightest notice of. Presently u number of officers appeared crossing the plaza, and to my unspeakable re lief I recognized the American consul in their midst. I was the to bo granted tho semblance of a trial at least. The officials wasted no time in further cere mony, but seating themselves at tlie table began at once by one of their number reading the indictment, which was repeated in English by an interpreter, and which accused mo of “aiding and abetting the Cuban Insurgents, who were in arms against their lawful sover eign’ the King of Spain, by delivering into the hands of one of the chiefs of the insurgents, incendiary papers to incite the people of Cuba to further deeds of violence against tho gover nment, and also money to enable them to carry on a desultory warfare.” To have attempted to disguise anything or withhold any part of my share in tho unfortu nate affair 1 knew would be disastrous to my cause; so I told my story staightforward from beginning to end, and the eousul, I saw, was faithfully translating it. Several times, I afterwards learned, tho party employed as interpreter construed my language so as to make me appear much more guilty than I really was. The fact that I had concealed the presence of the bag in my Cabin from the officers, and then stealthily convoyed it ashore and deliv ered it to tho address upon it. was a strong, very strong point against me, and it required all the eloquence Os tho consul to prove that I was ignorant of the contents of tlie bag. “If the prisoner had been aware what was witfiin the bag, would lie have dated to liayo taken it to thirteen .Plaza di Poco in broad daylight, when the plnza is full of soldiersand members of tho secret service ?” asked my countryman and defender. This argument bore weight. For some ten minutes tho officers converged apart, while tho consul did his best to cheer me up. AVhen everything had been fixed apparently to their satisfaction, an elderly soldier, one who seemed to bo chief among my judges arose, and in a lengthy speech Imposed my sentence. “The court had found that I had been but an unwitting agent, and therefore was not wholly responsible, but inasmuch as I had surrepti tiously conveyed tho bag ashore I had thereby violated the customs rule and was consequent ly found guilty and ordered to pay a fine of five hundred dollars in gold, and to remain im prisoned within tho fort at Matanzas until tho sum was paid.” Oh, what a relief. I almost fainted on hearing tho sentence, the reaction was so great I As may bo imagined it required but a few moments for the consul to give his bond for tho amount, and I was a free man. I had no desire to remain longer within tho walls of the grim old fortress, after my release, and in company with my defender hurried out through a sally port which was opened for our egress, and as we wore passing through, much to our surprise, tho contents of my pockets, (which had been taken from me the previous night) were retured to me. Thus was ended my first and last tilt with the blind goddess, which far-famed lady may be said to bo doubly blind in tho distant islands of tho Antilles, I afterward ascertained that the Spaniards had failed to secure tho person of Senor Gon zalez as he had left tho city lhe same day of my visit, but as I had been seen to enter his house with a bag and leave it without one, and as he was known to hold strong revolutionary principles the authorities thought it their duty to arrest me, thinking that 1 was at least a sympathizer, and that through fear of instant death I would reveal some secrets of the in urgeuts. < ROTHSCHH.D’H TERRIBLE REVENGE. From the Dctriot Free Press. An amusing adventure is related as having hapjiemd to the Bank of England, which had com mitted the unpardonable sin of refusing to discount a large bill drawn by Anselm Hothsehild, of Frank fort, on Nathan Rothschild, of I.ondo c The lank hud haughtily repll.d that they discounted only their own bil s; not those of private persons ; but they had to do with one stronger than tire bank. “Private ; esons?” exclaimed Nathan when the fact was reported to him. “I will make those gen tlemen see what kind of private person-: we are.” Three weeks later Nathan Rothschild—who find employed the interval In gathering all tlie five pound notes he could procure in England and on the continent—presented himself at the bank. He drew from his pocketbook a five pound note, and they naturally counted out five sovereigns, at the same time looking quite astonished that the jfuron Roths child should have personally troubled himself for such a triHe. The baron examined one by one the coins, and put them in a little <an, as bag, then drawing out another note—a third a tenth—a hun drelth—he never put the pe< sof gold Into tire bag without scrupulously examining them, and in gome instanceea trying tlreui In the balance, us the law gave him the right to do. The first pocketbook being emptied and tho first bag full, he passed them to bis clerk and received a ge l end, and thus continued till the bank closed. The baron had employe 1 seven hours to change £21,009, but as he iuid also nine employes of his borne engaged in the same manner, it resulted that tlie house of Rothschild had drawn £210,000111 gold from the Bank of England, and that he had so occupied ■ ■ no otic r pel son <o.l ■ I single note. Everything which liears th- stamp of eccentricity has always pleased the English. Tliey were, there fore, t m first day, very much amused at the little pi.pic of Baron Imtliseidld. d liny laughed tliey saw him return the next day,at tlie opening of I tho bank, flanked by his nine clerks, and follov.e 1 this tin,e by drays to carry away tbespci.i-. Tliey I laughed not at all when tlie klngof bank i--. .Id | with Ironic simplicity; "These gen'l'.men have refused to pay my bills. I | have sworn not to keep theirs. At their leisure— i only I notify tie < that 1 have snougn P> crnp.oy j them for two monti.s ” “for twoniMi.h-l ” “Eleven millions In gold drawn f. cm the Bank of England which tliey have never ;x>.-.< - cd The bank took alarm. There was something to lie done. Next morning notice appeared in the Jour- ! oats that henceforth tlie bank would pay Bolus child's bllU the salae a:t their own. The Anarchists Daughter. BY WALLACE P. REED. For The C institution. It was nine o’clock in tho morning, and the yards and offices surrounding tho Morley mills presented a spectacle of almost turbulent ac tivity. A thousand operatives were at work inside tho mills, and outside an orderly mob of clerks, truckmen and laborers surged to and frobvsily engaged in their various tasks. Tho private office of Mr. John Morley, tho millionaire owner of this vast establishment; was unoccupied. It was too early for Mr. Morley to make his appearance, but tho janitor had carefully dusted the handsome desksand chairs, and arranged everything in perfect order. From time to time a clerk or an errand boy entered the office and deposited a letter or a parcel on the great man’s desk, and then re tired with business-like celerity. Taking advantage of a moment when tho office was deserted, a swarthy little man with restless black eyes and a stern, strongly marked face, slipped into the room. Tho visitor was Silas AVost, one of the opera fives, but his movements would have made it apparent, if there had been any one to watch him, that he was not in search of Ins employer. “Aha!” chuckled Silas, “I am just in time, and I had bettor not tarry.” Ho drew from his pocket a small square parcel wrapped in white paper and laid it on the desk by the inkstand. The parcel was addressed to “John Morley, Esq.,” and was marked “Personal.” Silas AVest quietly left tho place, and after a furtive glance around to assure himself that ho was not observed, he took a quick turn down a narrow street whore there was not a living thing in sight. “Old Morley didn't know that ho had an anarchist among his men,” ho muttered. “Well, ho will never know it now. There is enough dynamite in that thing to kill a dozen men!” A troubled look came over his face as ho talked to himself. “It is a bad thing to do,” ho said; “but, curse him, why did he suspend mo? An honest workman has a right to take his littlo spree now and then without having tlie bread taken out of his mouth. Morley treated me like a dog, and ho deserves what lie is going to get.” lhe man walked along with his head down, evidently struggling with unpleasant thoughts. “Confound it!” he broke out, “I am forget ting tho sublime principles of my creed. I t lias been held by wise and good men that it is right to assassinate a tyrant. These bloated capitalists uro in the same box. AVhenever one is killed his wealth goes into different hands and is distributed. If we can’t have communism wo can at least kill off the men with big fortunes, and their money will be scattered liy their numerous heirs. Morley's death will be a benefit to mankind.” Still, Sil#* did not linger anywhere in the neighborhood of the mills. Ho knew that the expected explosion might occur at any moment, but a nervous dread took possession of him, and Im was seized with a desire to reach his cottage and shut himself up. “Good news!” exclaimed Mrs. AVest when Silas entered the door. “How? What is it? I don’t understand,” stammered her husband, turning his careworn face upon her. “It is almost too good to be true,” replied Mrs. West, half laughing and half crying. “Who would have thought that a millionaire like your Mr. Morley would take tho trouble to think of us?” “ Woman! AV hat do you mean ?” “Oh, Silas, how can you look so? Mr. Morley is our friend. Ho sent his secretary hero this morning to request you to return to work, and, Silas, he says that if you will lot liquor alone ho will promote you, and that (Jiis suspension was only for your own good. It was to give you time to think. Now, my dear, don’t you agree witli me that Mr. Morley is a good man, and won’t you promise to turn over a now leaf, and quit that secret society which takes up so much of your time?—for lam sure that half of your trouble comes from going with those strange, repulsive looking men.” ' Silas AVest had turned as while as a sheet, and he raised his hand to his head with a groan. “Husband, are you sick?” “Where is little Mary?” ho asked with a vacant stare. “Oli, yes; I’ll tell you about that, too,” said Mrs. AVest. “Alary, dear little thing, was so delighted over the news that she couldn't rest until she fixed up a pretty bouquet to place on Mr. Morley’s desk so that ho would find it when he camo down.” “My God!” screamed Silas. “Do you mean that—” “Yes; she went to the mills half an hour ago, and will be hero in a few minutes.” With a wild shriek of more than mortal agony, Silas AVest staggered forward and fell senseless to tho floor, just as the muffled sound of an explosion a mile away rattled the win dows of the cottage. It was a long time before Silas West recov ered from liis attack of brain fever, and win n at last be was strong enough in mind and body to listen to tho sorrow-stricken woman by his bedside, he silently prayed for death. “It was M) horrible, Silas,” said his weeping wife, ‘ to have our little golden-haired darling kille'l in that manner. She was mangled beyond recognition, and the horror of it nearly killed me. But, Silas, there was one blight gleam in the midst of all our trouble. Mr. Morb y and his w ife came here. They had tho funeral arrangements made, ami during all tho weeks that you have been ill Mr. Morley has footed all the bills ami saved us from starva tion. W<- owe him a debt of gratitude that wo can never repay.” She paused in her talk. Her husband had fainted. The tragedy caused by the explosion of the ' dynamite bomb in Mr. Morley’s otfico had been driven out of tho public mind by other matters of semational interest before Silas West was able to return to his work. Some of his fellow operatives told the wretched father that the affair was supposed to be the work of tho anarchists, but (hat no olew bad ever been ob tained. It was believed that the little girl had waited in the ofiice for Mr. Morley, and tlie j queer-looking package bad attracted her atten tion. She bad probably handled it, ami an ; unfortunate touch had caused it to explode. Mr. Morley told bis wife that Silas West was , tho most tender-hearted man be had ever j known. Ho went back to work a changed man. ! His face wore a look of hopeless sorrow, but he ‘ seemed to be entirely devoted to three things— bis wife, bis work, ami Mr. Morley. j “No,” said Mr. Morley one day; “I am not afraid of anarchists in my mills. I treat my workmen like men, and tliey appreciate it. But if there is any danger that man, Silas ' West, will warn me in time, For some reason I lie has an intense hatred of anything like 1 anarchy. If vou mention tho name of an . anarchist in Ids hearing he turns white and . red and grits his B eth. I toil you, West has a heart of gold! There will bo no anarchists ! around as long as he stays with me.” Tlie patient, pale-faced worker in the Mor- 1 ley mills will doubtless go to his grave ami '■ make no sign. His wife wonders sometimes at hi tenderness, and tiis employer thinks him a j littlo cranky in bis rigid sense of duty. Silas West alone Knows the piuse of the ’ regeneration and reformation, and hip. secret ' has made him a feeble old man, although ho j is still in bis thirties. PRICE FIVE CENTS. HOW SWEARING EZ REFORMED. True Story of a Modern Uncle Toby—Coovers’ ed by an Honest Woman’s Frayerg. Fiom the Chicago Inter-Ocean. * The best, or rather the worst, swearer I eve* knew was an old farmer up in the northwest, ern part of Pennsylvania. Profanity flowed ( from his mouth as fast and fluently as water from an artesian well. He was swearing at or about something from the time he awoke in the morning until ho kicked his boots under the bed at night, and his wife declares that he i even swore in his sleep. But whether that statement is correct or nosy he certainly did deserve the nick-name whical everybody called him behind his back, “SwearJ ing Ez.” He had the reputation all over that end of the State for being the most profane man in exlstenoo. People universally hated to come into contact with him, so voluminous was his vileness. But profanity was his only vice. He was a rarity, a rich man WHO WAS OENF-Hons TO A FAULT. He didn’t go to church, but his wife paid the pastor of the little brown Presbyterian church more money every year than any other mem ber of it. And every fall, as sexm as his first grist of buckwheat was ground, “Swearing Ez’* • would take a two-bushel bag of tlie flour to tho parsonage and give it to the pastor with the re l mark: ‘‘Parson, I’ve brought you some of the —~ nicest Hour that ever let grow ill this country.” Old Ez was no lij pocrito. He didn’t pretend to he a bit better before the preacher than ho did lie fore his plow. He was the same man every day in the week. There was but one thing that “Swearing Ez” considered a terrible crime, and that was drunkenness. EverytimO be met a man whose breath was scented with spirits Old Ez waded into him. Imagine a man preaching a temperance sermon with » blood-chilling oath sandwiched in between nearly every other word I It would lie laughs* ble if it wasn’t so shockingly wicked. And X know of more than one instance when ho wound up his temperance lecture to a pooF drunken wretch by HANDING HIM ICNCUGH MONEY to buy a pair of shoes or a hat and even a sulf of clothes, and then saying: “Now, you ——• lazy loafer, get fixed up and, by , try to make a man of yourself, you.’’ Well, that’s the kind of a man “Swearing Ez” was, until one winter’s day, not quite four years ago. Ho had been drawn as a juror and was roaming around tho county seat of “Mes ser Diocese,” as somebody long ago christened tho staid old town of Mercer, ft sounds para dox ica Ito say that extremes meet,but tliey did that night; “Shearing Ez” stumbled into the camp of the. Salvation Army. 11 was not then what it is now, there were in that particular company or regiment, a number of sincere, honest, hardworking Christians—a little cranky, perhaps, but earnest and true worship pers of God. I f Hit ad been a regular church or an ordiik ary congregation of church-goers, old Ez would have gone out of there like a sheep over a stile. But the novelty of the thing attracted him. 1 (e went into the tent and sat down on one of the rear seats. A BIG, HONEST-LUOKING OLD SOUL, who carried the cognomen of Halleluiah Anne was speaking. It seemod she was a widow who had two sons killed on tho battle-field. One was a Christian and died at Antietam with e prayer on his lips. Tho other was an unbe liever and he died on the battle field of Gettys burg, cursing with his latest breath. The old woman was uneducated; her gram* mar and her phraseology were all but proper; yet when she finished her sad story of her only sons, the life, death ami the hereafter of each, tears were running down the cheeks of all who hoard it. She wept, but not alone. At the far end of the tent were beard heavy, half smothered sobs. There sat “Swearing lCz,” his strong frame shaking with emotion, and tears streaming over the hard, cruel lines of his face. Presently he rose to his foot. Slowly he ad vanced to the kneeling form of the old woman, whose sad tale had so wonderously affectea him. Placing his hand on her silvered tresses he said, in tremulous tones: “My mother, too, had sons who went to the wars. ONE WAS A CHICJHTIAN J I was not. At the battle of tho Wilderness he was wounded. We both knew he was dying,and as 1 knelt beside him, the ground stained with his blood,ho tried to pray. He died. Four (lays later I was shot through the arms, a triflling wound enough, but they put me in tho hospital. How 1 cursed God ami man for niy allliction[ Instead of thanking Him for saving my life, I cursed because I was not killed. Well, 1 came home. My brother’s death had killed my mother, if God will forgive me, I will meet them in heaven. Pray for me as you have prayed for your sons, as my mother has fox mo.” That scene will never be forgotten by those who witnessed it. “Swearing Ez” went into that place a hardened, wicked man. He cam! out a penitent sinner, and from I hat day not an oath has left his lips. The man who was once despised by all is now the more honored and respected for tlie hard battle be bad to tight and bravely won. The Salvation Army saved “Swearing Ez” if it never before or since ac complished any good. ABOUT A YEAR AGO I board him relating his “experience,” and it is so different from that usually heard at “love feasts,” “campmeetings,” and “classmeet* Ings,” that a repetion of it may prove interest ing ami amusing as well. “I had a great deal of trouble after I quit swearing,” the old man said. “In the first place I couldn’t do any Blowing. I had to ‘break’ my oxen over again. They understood every oath and cuss-word I ii m d, but when 1 talked decently to them they didn’t know anything. Same with my dog. He couldn’t even chase a chicken w hen I or den d him to in plain English, but if I’d swear al him he’d tackle anything that walked. I finally had to invent a lot of slang that wasn't wicked to fire at the dog and the oxen. They’ve learned it now and we get along all right, but it was pretty tough sledding at first, 1 tell you.” . • Whiftky Arithmetic- From the Cincinnati Enquirer. “How many drinks of whisky do you ' age a day?” »ald one gentleman to another us they w< r<* enjoying a social glass at a well known resort on Vine street yesterday afternoon. “Oh, taking the year round. I presume my average would be about ten a day.” “And how long has thb been going ons” wag asked. “Straight along f<>r twenty years, I guess; but It ■ never hurt me any, and I cun tend to my patients - (he is a professional man) just as well as 1 ever I.” “But how much whisky, taking your own state ment for it, do you suppose you have drunk during | that time?” “I’m sure I don’t know. I never thought about that.” “Well, let us take another nip and then I figure on it,” and they did, and here is tho result of their work; “Ten drinks a day would be seventy drinks a I w-ek, or over6.o drinks in a year. In years ' that would give the enormous numtMsr of 7X- ■ drinks. Now, the average drink taken in thw Country is j-ahl to lx- 60 to a gallon. Then dividg this 72,800 by 60, and y*iu will liml that you have ' consumed 1,213 and a fraction gallons. Now, therw an .-upixwd to be, on an ftvetug •, 36 gallons to g burn 1. Divide 1.213 by Wami you find that you you have drunk just about th.rty-rix barrels of tha I stuff.” The old toper l< ok d at the figures and then at his friend, ami then remarked: “Well, let's taka one more and then 1 think I’ll give my stomach a i rest foi a day or tx,o.” Burlington free Prr»i: Occasionally practical Jokers <lo a witty thing—as when some students iu a western city took down a sign, “Stamping dong here,” and put Bup over the entrance to a i