Galveston Tribune. (Galveston, Tex.), Vol. 24, No. 65, Ed. 1 Wednesday, February 10, 1904 Page: 6 of 8
eight pages : ill. ; page 24 x 18 in. Scanned from physical pages.View a full description of this newspaper.
Extracted Text
The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
THE GALVESTOK TRIBUNE: WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 1904.A
A
A
A
A
A
A
A
!TE|E GENTLEMAN <§« '
i>5>S» FROM INDIANA
A By BOOTH TARKINGTON. ...
$
Cut Tilts Story Out and Keep It. You Will Want to Read It Later, If Not Now. A
A---------------------------------------------------------------.AA Copyright, 1899, by Doubleday & McClu/e Co.
Copyright, 1902, by McClure, Phillipps & Co.
->»»»»> »>:>» »5>2»> »»» 2>>3»d2> >$>»»
“Wouldn't encourage it too much-
livin’ at the Palace hotel,” observed
Bowlder. “Sorry you won’t ride.” He
gathered the loose ends of the reins in
Ids hands, leaned far over the dash-
board and struck the mare a hearty
thwack. The tattered banner of tail
Jerked indignantly, but she consented
to move down the road. Bowlder thrust
his big head through the sun curtain
behind him and continued the conver-
sation. “See the White Caps ain’t got
you yet.”
“No. not yet," Harkless laughed.
“Reckon the boys 'druther you stayed
In town after dark,” the other called
back. “Well, come out and see us if yon
git any spare time from the judge’s.”
He laughed loudly again in farewell,
and the editor waved his hand as Bowl-
der finally turned bis attention forward
to the mare. When the flop, flop of her
hoofs had died out, Harkless realized
that the day was silent no longer; it
was verging into evening.
He dropped from the fence and turn-
ed bis face toward town and supper.
He felt the life and light about him,
heard the clatter of the blackbirds
above him, heard the homing bees hum
by, saw the vista of white road and
level landscape framed on two sides
by the branches of the grove, a vista
of infinitely stretching fields of green,
lined here and there with woodlands
and flat to the horizon line, the village
lying in their lap. No roll of meadow,
no rise of pasture land, relieved their
serenity nor shouldered up from them
to be called a hill.
A farm bell rang in the distance, a
tinkling coming small and mellow from
far away, and nt the lonesomeness of
that sound he heaved a long, mournful
filgb. The next Instant bo broke into
laughter, for another bell rang over the
He stepped to exchange a word.
fields, the courthouse bell in the square.
tTbe first four strokes weTe given with
mechanical regularity, the pride of the
custodian who operated the bell being
to produce the effect of a clockwork
bell, such as he bad once heard in the
courthouse at Rouen, but Ibe fifth and
sixth strokes were baiting achieve-
ments. as. after 4 o’clock he often lost
count In the strain of the effort for pre-
cise imitation. There was a pause after
the sixth; then a dubious and reluctant
stroke, seven; a longer pause, followed
by a final ring with desperate decision
—eight! Harkless looked at bis watch.
It.was twenty minutes of 6.
As he crossed the courthouse yard to
the Palace hotel on his way to supper
he stopped to exchange a word with
the bell ringer, who, seated on the steps,
was mopping bis brow with an air of
bard earned satisfaction.
“Good evening, Schofields’,” he said.
“Ton came in strong on the last stroke
tonight.”
“What we need here,” responded the
bell ringer, “is more public sperrited
»ien. I ain’t kickin’ on you, Mr. Hark-
less—no. sir; but we want more men
Like they got in Rouen. We want men
that ’ll git Main street paved with
block or asphalt; men that ’ll put in
factories; men that ’ll act—not set
round like that old fool Martin and
laugh and pollywoggle along and make
fun of public sperrit, day in, day out.
I reckon I do my best for the city.”
“Ob, nobody minds old Tom Martin,”
observed Harkless. “It’s only half the
time he means anything by what he
says.”
“That’s just what I hate about him,"
returned the bell ringer in a tone of
high complaint. “You can’t never tell
which half it is. Look at him now!”
U'he gentleman referred to was stand-
ing over In front of the hotel talking
to a row of coatless loungers, who sat
with their chairs tilted back against
the props of the wooden awning that
projected over the sidewalk. Their
faces were turned toward the court-
house, arid even those lost in medita-
tive wbilliing had looked up to laugh,
lir M;i;nu, one of bis bands thrust io
a pocket of his alpaca coat and the oth-
er softly caressing his wiry, gray chin
beard, bis rusty silk hat tilted forward
till the brim almost rested on the
bridge of his nose, was addressing
them in a one keyed voice, the melan-
choly whine of which, though not the
words, penetrated to the courthouse
steps.
The bell ringer, whose name was
Henry Schofield, but who was known
as Schofields’ Henry (popularly abbre-
viated to Schofields’), was moved to in-
dignation. “Look at him!” he cried.
“Look at him! Everlastingly goin’ on
about my belli Well, let him talk.
Let him talk!”
As Mr. Martin’s eye fell upon the
editor, who, having bade the bell ring-
er good night, was approaching the
hotel, ho left his languid companions
and crossed the street to meet him.
“I was only oratin’ on how proud the
city ought to be of Schofields’,” he said
mournfully as they shook hands; “but
he looks kind of put out with me.” He
hooked his arm in that of the young
man and detained him for a moment
as the supper gong sounded from with-
in the hotel. “Call on the judge to-
night?” be asked.
“No. Why ?”
“I reckon you didn’t see that lady
with Minnie last night.”
“No.”
“Well, I guess you better go out there,
young man. She might not stay here
long.”CHAPTER II. (
HR Briscoe buckboard rattled
along the elastic country road,
the roans setting a sharp pace
as they turned eastward on
tho pike toward home.
“They'll make the eight miles In
three quarters of an hour,” said Judge
Briscoe proudly. He turned from his
daughter at his side to Miss Sherwood,
who sal with Mr. Bisbee behind them,
and pointed ahead with his whip.
“Just beyond that bend we pass through
Six Crossroads.”
Miss Sherwood leaned forward eager-
ly. “What did you mean last night
after the lecture,” she said to Fisbee,
“when you asked Mr. Martin who was
to be with Mr. Harkless?”
“Who was watching him,” he an-
swered.
“Watching him? I don’t under-
stand.”
"Yes; they have shot at him from
the woods at night, and”—
“But who watches him?”
“The young men of the town. He
has a habit of taking long walks after
dark, and lie is heedless of all remon-
strance, so the young men have organ-
ized a guard for him, and every even-
ing one of them follows him until he
goes to the office to work for the night.
It is a different young man each night,
and the watcher follows at a distance,
so that he does not suspect.”
“But how many people know of this
arrangement?”
“Nearly every one in the county ex-
cept the Crossroads people, though it is
not improbable that they have discov-
ered it.”
“And has no one told him?”
“No; be would not allow it to con-
tinue. He will not even arm himself.”
“They follow and watch him night
after night, and every one knows and
no one tells, him? Ob, I must say,”
cried the girl, “I think these are good
people!”
The buckboard turned the bend in the
road, and they entered a squalid settle-
ment built raggedly about a black-
smith shop and a saloon. “I’d hate to
have a breakdown here,” Briscoe re-
marked quietly.
Half n dozen shanties clustered near
the forge, a few roofs scattered through
the shiftlessly cultivated fields, four or
five barns propped by fence rails, some
sheds with gaping apertures through
which the light glanced from side to
side, a squad of thin razorback hogs,
now and then worried by gaunt hounds,
and some abused looking hens groping
about disconsolately in the mire, a
broken topped buggy with a twisted
wheel, settling into the mud of the
middle of the road (there was always
abundant mud here in the driest sum-
mer); a dim face sneering from a bro-
ken window—Six Crossroads was for-
bidding and forlorn enough by day.
The thought of what might issue from
it by night was unpleasant, and the
legends of the Crossroads, together
with an unshapen threat easily fancied
in the atmosphere of the place, made
Miss Sherwood shiver as though a cold
draft had crossed her.
“It is so sinister!" she exclaimed.
“And so unspeakably mean! This is
where tBey live, the people that hate
him, is it? The White Caps?”
“They call themselves that,” replied
Briscoe. “Usually White Caps are a
vigilance committee in a region where
the law isn’t enforced. These fellows
aren’t that kind. They got together to
wipe out grudges, and sometimes didn’t
need any grudge—just made their raids
for pure devilment. There’s a feud be-
tween us and them that goes back Into
pioneer days, and only a few of us old
folks know much about it.”
“And he waj the first to try to stop
them?”
“Well, you see, our folks are pretty
long suffering,” said Briscoe apologet-
ically. “We’d sort of got used to the
meanness of the Crossroads. It took
a stranger to stir things up, and he
did. He sent eight of them to the peni-
tentiary, some for twenty years.”
As they passed the saloon a man
stepped into the doorway and looked
at them. He was coatless and clad in
garments worn to the color of dust.
His bare head was curiously malform-
ed, higher on one side than bn the oth-
er, and though the buckboard passed
rapidly and at a distance this singular
lopsidedness was plainly visible to the
occupants, lending an ugly significance
to bis meager, yellow face. He was
tall, lean, hard, powerfully built. He
eyed the strangers with affected lan-
guor and then, when they had gone by,
broke into sudden loud laughter.
“That was Bob Skillett, the worst of
the lot,” said the judge. “Harkless
sent his son and one brother to prison,
and it nearly broke his heart that he
couldn’t swear to Bob.”
When they were beyond the village
and in the open road again Miss Sher-
wood took a deep breath. “I think 1
breathe more freely. That was a hid-
eous laugh he sent after us.”
The judge glanced at his guest’s face
and chuckled. “1 guess we won’t
frighten you much,” he said. “Young
lady, I don’t believe you’d be afraid of
many things, would you? You don’t
look like it. Besides, the Crossroads
isn’t Plattville, and the White Capa
have been too scared to do anything
much except try to get even with the
Herald for the last two years—ever
since it went for them. They’re lay-
ing for Harkless partly for revenge and
partly because they daren’t do any-
thing until he’s out of the way.”
The girl gave a low cry with a sharp
Intake of breath. “Ah, one grows tired
of this everlasting American patience!
Why don’t the Plattville people do
something before they”—
“It’s just as I say,” Briscoe answer-
ed. “Our folks are sort of used to
them. I expect we do about all we
can. The boys look after him nights,
but the main trouble is that we can’t
make him understand he ought to be
more afraid of them. If he’d lived here
all his life he would be. If they get
him there’ll be trouble of an illegal na-
ture.” He broke off suddenly and nod-
ded to a little old man in a buck-
board turning off from the road Into a
farm lane which led up to a trim cot-
tage with a honeysuckle vine by the
door. “That’s Mrs. Wimby’s husband,”
said the judge in an undertone.
(To Be Continued)
BANK RECEIVER ASKED frOR.
Depositors Will Lose Nothing, But the
Stockholders May.
By Associated Press.
New York, N. Y„ Feb. 10.—By unani-
vote the directors of the Equitable na-
tional bank have decided to ask the con-
troller of the currency for the appoint-
ment of a receiver. The depositors, ac
cording to the officials of the institution,
will not lose a cent, but the stockholders
may lose more than 30 cents on the dol-
lar on an aggregate amount of between
$30,000 and $40,000. The bank, situated in.
the dry goods district at Broadway and
11th street, was organized only two years
ago. Many changes have occurred in its
official roster and a few months ago C.
R. Schultz was chosen president. He is
the youngest head of a national bank in
the country.
“The earning capacity will not meet the
running expenses of the bank in its pres-
ent condition and will not warrant further
continuance,” said one of the directors.
We have taken this action to avoid
further loss. The depositors will be paid
in full.”
The bank is capitalized at $200,000, with
claimed assets of $175,000 in excess of de-
posits.Are the Statements of Galveston Citizens
Not More Reliable Than Those of
Utter Strangers?This Is a vital question1.
It is fraught with interest to Galveston.
It permits Of only one answer.
It cannot bo evaded ar ignored.
A Galveston citizen speaks here,
Speaks for the welfare of Galveston.
A citizen’s statement is reliable,
An utter stranger’s doubtful.
Home proof is the best proof.
Mrs. M. Sweeney, tvidow, residing at 3315
avenue M, says: “I suffered from kidney
trouble off and on for a number of years.
The attacks were frequent and sometimes
lasted for weeks at a time. I was never
so bad during the day moving about, but
at night just when a person wants rest
and oomfort I was unable to turn in
bed without suffering agony, and sorrto
nights I had to sit up. I wore plasters and
used home remedies, but received little if
any benefit. Doan’s Kidney Pills were so
highly recommended that I decided to try,
them and bought a box at Schott’s drug
store on Market street. In a short time
the backache disappeared and by the time
I completed the treatment I was feeling
better than I had for a long time.”
For sale by all dealers. Price 50 cents.
TNoster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y., sole
agents for the United States.
Remember the name—Doan’s—and take
|U) substitute
“No More Aches and Pains.”
No. 826 Perdido Street,
New Orleans, La., March 27, 1903.
For over nine years I had been troubled with leucnrrhoea. The discharge was yellowish at times but after
the menstrual period it would become reddish, acrid and excoriating. This exhausted my system. I was con-
tinually tired while my appetite was poor, my digestion very bad and my sleep fitful and feverish.
Wine of Cardui was the one remedy which helped me in my distress. I soon found that it relieved the
pain and imbued me with new strength and after the use of 22 bottles . .
I was well. No more discharge. No more aches and pains and oh, /A J
what relief, only those who have had my experience can appreciate gyS'ldr'IT
the value of such a fine medicine as Wine of Cardui. Vicb-President, United Daughters’ Industrial Club.
WlN&CARDUI
Mra Anna D. Moore.
Does not this letter convince the most skeptical sufferer that Wine of Cardui will bring her
health ? It is difficult to imagine a case where there are more discouraging features than this
before Mrs. Moore began taking Wine of Cardui. Leucorrhoea is an inflammation of the
vagina. It is really decay in the vital organs of womanhood. This inflammation often drives
women into the direst stages of nervous excitement. At the menstrual period the continual itching is accompanied by the utmost
agony. The life of the woman who lets this trouble run on as Mrs. Moore did is one of misery. But Mrs. Moore did not
know what medicine to take to cure it. When she had Wine of Cardui brought to her attention she took it and continued the
treatment until she was cured. The case was a chronic one and it took presistent effort to bring a permanent cure.
This cure can be secured by any woman who takes Wine of Cardui. Mrs. Moore tried everything else and continued to
suffer. She tried Wine of Cardui and was cured. You can treat your case successfully in your own home and nobody
l need know anything about it. Secure a $1.00 bottle of Wine of Cardui today and begin the treatment.
| TWO PAINT BOOKS EACH WEEK
One for children under 11 years of age and one for children
over II and under 15 years of age.
SOMETHING FOR THE CHILDREN?
HERE IS AN OPPORTUNITY for our bright little
folks to earn a handsome book and at the same time develop
their talent in Water-color Painting. Pictures like the one
below are to be printed in the Tribune each week, and
the child that colors one of them in the most artistic manner
will be presented with a beautiful book of one hundred
pages and a set of water-colors and brush.THE MOTHER GOOSE PAINT BOOK that will b®
presented as a prize for the best colored picture consists of
a collection of 50 plates, 6x9 inches, and 50 jingles together.
The plates illustrative of the rhyme aue printed on heavy
paper, bound in brilliantly illuminated board cover. A set of
water colors and an artist’ sbrush are conveniently attached
to the cover margin of each of the books.
I colored the above TRIBUNE Picture without assistance, and submit it in the
contest next Friday for a MOTHER GOOSE PAINT BOOK.
Name - __
Date ____ Age--------------- .......... Address
TO EARN A PAINT BOOK: Any child under 15
years of age may compete. For the most artistically colored
Mother Goose picture cut from the Tribune and sent to the
Tribune office by noon of Friday next, with the accompany-
ing b’ank tilled out and signed, one of these handsome books
will be given as a present.THE JUDGE OF THE PICTURES is Mr. Julius Stock-
fleth, the well known Galveston artist. Upon his decision
as to which picture has been colored in the most artistic
manner, the award vvih be made each week. The name,
address and age of the successful contestant will be
published in the Tribune each Saturday.
Upcoming Pages
Here’s what’s next.
Search Inside
This issue can be searched. Note: Results may vary based on the legibility of text within the document.
Tools / Downloads
Get a copy of this page or view the extracted text.
Citing and Sharing
Basic information for referencing this web page. We also provide extended guidance on usage rights, references, copying or embedding.
Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
Galveston Tribune. (Galveston, Tex.), Vol. 24, No. 65, Ed. 1 Wednesday, February 10, 1904, newspaper, February 10, 1904; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1209349/m1/6/: accessed July 16, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Rosenberg Library.