The Saturday Evening Post 1920-11-20: Vol 193 Iss 21

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Mranklin oe pat ws + Reh rg Re A HOLWORTHY HALL — LAWRENCE PERRY — ROLAND PERTWEE HUGH MACNAIR KAHLER — SIR PHILIP GIBBS — DR. E. J. DILLON

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“THE GREAT AMERICAN DAILY” Painted by Edw. V. Brewer for Cream of Wheat Co. Copyright 1920 by Cream of Wheat Co.

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Westclox Big Ben’s oldest brother The America alarm is the oldest West- clox in the line, It was designed and put out thirty-five years ago and is still going strong. It tops the sales record. A good- looking, clean-cut, substantial clock at a low price. The Westclox mark of good timekeeping is on the dial. —the Westclox midget He’s only waist-high alongside Big Ben but he has scads of friends every- where. One look and you'll want to adopt him. Get acquainted at your dealer's; see how jauntily he wears that bright orange and buff Westclox tag. —just tell him when Sleep _.Meter —punctual and friendly Sleep- Meter elbowed to the front in the alarm clock market in a remarkably short number of years. Good looks helped a lot; but the right construction inside is the real reason. The name West- clox, on the dial, a/ways means faithful timekeeping. He’ll get you up in the world and help you meet the toughest kind of a job with a grin. Seven inches tall and every inch a clock of his word. Big Ben, also, is proud to wear that Westclox mark of punctuality on his dial and on the orange and buff Westclox tag. It means he’s built right from the ground up for faithful timekeeping. WESTERN CLOCK CO., LA SALLE, ILLINOIS, U.S.A. Makers of Westclox: Big Ben, Baby Ben, Pocket Ben, Glo-Ben, America, Sleep-Meter, Jack o’ Lantern Factory: Peru, Illinois. In Canada: Western Clock Co., Ltd., Peterborough, Ont

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 ' You want a stylish @&. overcoat : at the right price Be le TI al OU’LL find it at the stores F where our clothes are sold— all-wool quality; correct style; prices based om very low mar- gin of profit If you don’t get all the wear, style, value and all- around satisfaction you think you ought to get— money back Hart Schaffner & Marx : omey r 23 SHES, SRP 1 Dee OP ete OS ; tr ota, Me eee

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—_——_—__——— Published Weekly George Horace Lorimer EDITOR The Curtis Publishing Churchill Williams, F. S. Bigelow. A.W. Neall, Arthur McNeogh, ompany Walter D. Fuller, Secretary E. Dinsmore, | Under the Act of March 3, 1879 Cyrus H. K. Curtis, President Associate Editors C.H. Lud on, Vice-President and Treasure . | rp $c atlas Gee tier By oven he nme ; Entered as Second -Class Matter, November i5, 1879, ot the Post Office at Philadelphia William Boyd, Advertising Director Additional Entry os Second-Class Matter Independence Square, Philadelphia Founded APD! 1728 by Benj. Fran klin at Columbus. Ohio London: 6, Henriette Street | Covent Garden, W.C Entered os Second-Class Matter at the Copyright, 1920, by the Curtis Publishing Compeny in the United States and Great Britain Post-Office Department, Otriews, Canada

bee — ee Volume 193 Sc. THE copr in Canada PHILADELPHIA, PA., NOVEMBER 20, 1920 2.26 >. Number 21!

HEN Stephen was fully a quarter mile from the Oakmont station he heard a familiar sound which at first, in the depths of his gloom, he disregarded, but the sound kept on, and multiplied and echoed JET ] Ih her acquaintance, he enlarged that estimate and V © wor VY @ thought that she was one of the most intelligent of her ILLUSTRATED Br JAMES sex; for she listened gravely to everything he said H. CRANK and evidenced a deep respect for all his views and principles. Later, he had learned, to his consternation, that she was

until at last it awoke a very definite meaning in his jaded brain, and he recognized it as the whistle of the eight-twelve local express. Instinctively Stephen crammed his straw hat on the back of his head and began to run, but his stride was broken and unsteady because of the conflict among his various emo- tions. At the outset perhaps the strongest of these emotions was dismay, mingled with sheer mor- tification. He was unfamiliar with that sprightly epigram which says that punctuality is the thief of time; indeed, he would have flayed the author as a man of loose character. Punc- tuality was one of the credos of Stephen’s religion; he was always waiting around for life to keep its appointments with him; and until this morning he had never in all his career been forced to run for a train, nor had he ever missed a train which he had planned to catch. He was bitterly conscious, now, of a clear-cut paradox: He was late because he had overslept his alarm; and he had overslept it because he had lain awake suffering, until nearly dawn; and he had suffered because last eve- ning a girl had told him that he was a man witha clockwork soul, She had told him that what he personally considered to be his greatest virtues were in reality his chief defects; she had called him a human chronometer, and implied that he was something of a miser, and very much of a blue- stocking, and she had virtually asked him why he didn’t transfer his affections to somebody stuffed with sawdust. Stephen had lain awake over this and suffered about it; not wholly on account of what Betty Paget had said to him, but partly because he didn’t know how much of it she meant. As he ran on he told himself that this was the worst of Betty Paget; she was almost impossible to interpret. Six months ago, when he had first come to live in Oakmont, he had regarded her from a distance and estimated her as the most fascinating young woman he had ever seen; there were as many sides to her nature as there are facets to a beautiful diamond; he had envied those who were permitted to be her

laughing at him. He had gone directly to her and had it out with her, and she had been very contrite and pleaded a harmless disposition; and thereafter she had treated him in such a manner that he lost his heart to her. It now developed that she had merely been flirting with him and that she didn’t approve of his character, which was flawk It didn't seem consistent He was positive that he loved her and he was willing to d almost anything in the worl to improve his case, but as he pushed doggedly forward he told himself that if he missed the train it would be entirely her fault. He also claimed that he didn't give a continental whether he missed it or not. It was most undignified to sprint for a train, anyway, and especially on a hot and sticky July morning There was still another factor of the situation, and it was this that half a dozen years ago Stephen had been a middle- distance runner of considerable merit. In his room at the Oak- mont Inn he kept a pint of medals in his upper bureau drawer, and the finest of these trophies was his prize for win ning the Conference quarter, in forty-nine seconds flat Ahead of him, now, there was a straight away path to the station, and moreover the sidewalk was made of close-packed cinders. Stephen was alwaysin the best of physical condition, and he knew that even with his clothes on he could cer tainly cover the ground in less than a minute and preserve hi sacred routine. The effort, how ever, would just as certainly cost him a great deal of personal! discomfort and require him to abandon temporarily his whole supply of dignity. While he was struggling with the problem the whistle of the eight-twelve came

once more to his ears, as though in challenge Ambition seized him, and he lengthened his stride and went flying down the straightaway as though the best of the Conference sprinters were on his heels again His gloom was washed away by the exhilaration of speed; he could see, far ahead of him, the local express just coming to a standstill; he experienced a thrill f

friends. In the course of time, when he had been honored by

a A NE ORE a “Betty, I Can't Go On Like This Any More. aes << of triumph to perceive that he I’ve Got to Know. Have I Got a Chance?" should win his race regardless of ee EE eA a A

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the girl who, by indicting him for his precious habits, had nearly caused him to break one of them involuntarily. His chin went up a little; he gathered himself for a whirlwind finish; and at that pre- cise instant, when he was still a hundred and fifty yards from the lower platform, Stephen's hat blew off In a twinkling all his purposes were confused. To arrive hot and breathless at the station was a commuter’s priv- ilege, but to arrive with neither breath nor hat was ridiculous, and Stephen hated ridicule almost’ as much as he hated tardiness. He wavered, and he knew that by wavering he had lost the His gloom returned in volume, dismal j ense of failure, and Stephen slowed not to pull a eight-twelve. accompanied by a down gradually, so as tendon As he back to retrieve his hat he hoped fervently that there had been no spectators to mark his sacrifice of schedule and dignity, both. Then as he became aware of his state of com- Srie aked plete deliquescence he began to hope that no one would approach him tog closely until he had returned to the inn for at fresh if possible, another cold bath and an least a collar and entire change of linen. Theseardent desires, however, were choked to death when he perceived on a neigh- boring lawn the portly figure of Mr Anthony Hamlin, who waved his hand jocosely, and called out to Stephen across the hedge: “ Well sort of got left for once, didn’t » you?” Stephen gave him a sickly smile, but thought of nothing appropriate to say. Some men, like all women, are menially dependent upon their outward appear- ance, and Stephen was proving that he belonged in this class. He was the sort of man to whom a breach of etiquette or of convention was quite as serious as a misdemeanor, and he had never before presented himself in public except as a living definition of the word “immacu- late.”” He continued to melt visibly, and to favor Mr. Hamlin with that sickly smile; he was un- able to frame an answering sentence “Well,” said Mr. Hamlin with indulgence, “it only goes to show you're human, after all, just like the rest of us. But I wouldn't have run that fast on a hot day like this, not if it was for the last train bound to glory. It’s ninety- four in the right on my piazza. I wouldn't have run that fast for anything.” Stephen, gazing over the hedge, was impelled to make a very ment upon these remarks, for Mr. Hamlin wasn't a particularly tall man, and he “ weighed perhaps two hundred and twenty pounds, net. But it so happened that Stephen owned a trade magazine devoted to the export industry, and that Mr. Ifamlin was a partner in the firm that sold him his paper It also happened that Mrs. Hamlin was the self-appointed but nevertheless the de facto social government of Oak- mont, and that she was an old friend and a confidante of Miss Betty Paget. Stephen caressed his wilted collar and mastered his temper and attempted to capitalize the situation “When | owe anybody as much money as I do Hamlin & Co.,"” he said, “I like to get to the office before nine Ten years from now maybe I'll meet you on the Bankers’ Special.” For all his bulk Mr. Hamlin was as cool and placid as any proverbial cucumber, so that his air of indulgence was particularly maddening “Oh, I guess you could take it now if you wanted to, Benedict. Don’t tell me a man with your habits hasn’t alted away a nice little pile somewhere.”’ His grin broad- “And if you think you've got to hustle like that on why, don’t do it. It makes me hot just to I'd rather give you an extension of time any shade, personal com o'clock ened my account look at you day.” “TI may need it,” said Stephen, and moved off with imi- tation nonchalance. He glanced at his watch, and dis- covered that the next train was due in less than twenty minutes. The next after that wasn't due for thirty minutes more, Briefly he debated whether to return to the inn or to continue on to town and stop at the first haberdasher's for replacements. The former course would snatch another hour from the already crippled morning; the latter would THE SATURDAY EVENING POST attract a certain amount of undesirable publicity en route, Jehind him a pleasant voice sang out his name. The voice belonged to Charlie Coolidge, a young vice president of Stephen's bank; he was popularly sup- posed to be a vice president because he could say “‘No” in more different ways and with more diplomacy than anyone of his age in banking cir- cles. Incidentally he was the beau ideal of younger Oakmont. “Well,” hesaid cheerfully, “‘this marks another epoch in the his- tory of our thriv- ing community! What’s the mat- ter, Stephen—missed your train?” Stephen looked at him. A solid encyclopedia of mean- ing was in that look; it con- tained a wealth of short, simple nouns and of ornate, double-barreled adjectives; it was Stephen’s tacit ar- raignment of a man who could see anything funny in such an obvious occur- rence, “Yes said, Coolidge was unharmed by the arraignment; in fact, he was unconscious of it. “Pretty luxuriant eyelash, seems to me.” by an eyelash,” he Stephen fumbled for an apt rejoinder, and + s ac as : See & a bey laa ° oo t finally chose to repeat himself “Well, when I've got a five- thousand-dollar note discounted at the Urban Trust I sort of like to be at the office before nine o'clock in the morn- ing. You'l! notice I'm not so anxious about getting home.” “I’ve noticed it,” said Coolidge. “You must work about three nights a week, don’t you? That's too much.” “Too much for what? "’ demanded Stephen belligerently. “Too much for anybody in this sort of weather. Well, are you going in on the eight-thirty-six?”’ Stephen hesitated, shrugged his shoulders and finally made up his mind. Publicity had sought and found him, and he might as well swallow a little more of it and save the extra hour. “Yes, I guess so.” He endeavored to switch the conver- sation. ‘I'm coming in to see you on -business one of these days.” “Fine. I'll be glad to see you. And by the way, that reminds me—I meant to speak to you about your per- sonal account, Stephen. Why don’t we get that as well as your company’s account? We're pretty good people, aren't we?” Twice He Leuned Perilousiy Through the Door and Bribed the Chauffeur to Disregard the Speed Laws November 20,1920 ” “Why, yes, but —— “ And it strikes me that your personal account might be a good deal more profitable to us than the other one.”” He eyed Stephen with deep wisdom. “Lord! If I had the strength of character to live the way you do I'd save ninety per cent of my salary. Well—go on and pile up the shekels while the shekeling is good; but we want to have your personal account, Stephen, and I think you owe it to us. Think it over.” A fraction of Stephen’s poise returned to him, for he was always secretly amused and flattered by the local suppo- sition that he had an independent income. It was gener- ally known that his business didn’t amount to much, but it was also generally known that when he had bought it he had paid cash for it, and that the cash had come to him from the estate of his father, who had been a prosperous manufacturer. What Oakmont didn’t know was that Stephen had received a legacy of seventy-five thousand dollars, anc that after buying his magazine for thirty he had been com- pelled to feed it the other forty-five in order to preserve its life. But he dressed meticulously, practiced a rigid econ- omy of time and effort, spent never a penny that didn’t advertise the spending, consulted no man about his inti- mate affairs, mentioned his business seldom and boasted not at all; so that in consequence he had acquired the rating that invariably goes with just such behavior. In his individual bank account he carried perhaps a thousand dollars, and it was for precisely this reason that he kept his individual account away from Coolidge’s bank. “All right, I'll think it over,” he said. At the station he moodily bought his newspaper and turned as usual to the editorial page, but Coolidge, stand- ing at his elbow, wouldn't leave him in peace. “Seen this new play of Lucile Cartwright’s yet?” “Umph!” said Stephen. “She certainly’s a corker, isn’t she? I took Betty Paget Monday night. But the play’s rotten. It’s a good idea, but it’s rottenly done. They thought it would run all summer, but I don’t see how it can. It’s too talky. Still, she’s a wonder. That’s what she is—a wonder. Don’t you think so?” “Umph!” said Stephen, and kept his eyes glued to a paragraph about next year’s income tax. From time to time he wriggled, as in the trenches. “TI had a chance to meet her last year—that was in Detroit. Somebody gave her a tea and I had an invitation, but just at the last minute I had to jump back here. I'd like to meet her sometime. They say she’s a mighty nice girl too. Not stagy a bit.” “Umph!” said Stephen, with one eye out for the eight- thirty-six regulars, who were straggling along the plat- form. As they saw Stephen waiting there and trying to seem aloof they joyously fell upon the fragments of his reputa- tion. “Hello, Stephen. train?” “Why, Benedict, I didn’t know you'd retired from business.” ri Hello, Stephen. Go home and go to bed. To-morrow’s trains aren’t running yet.” “Oh, Benedict, here’s an ad that ought to interest you. It’s headed Why Perspire?”’ “Say, old man, would you mind doing it regularly? You went past my house so fast you kicked up the first cool breeze we've had this week.” Stephen gave them a feeble smirk, which was intended to show them that his soul was above such badinage. “Here she comes! Don’t get excited, Steve, old boy, I'll see you on.” “Yes, for Pete’s sake, don’t let Benedict get left again!”’ “Run, Stephen! You can just make her! I'll hold your hat.” Ordinarily Stephen rode in the foremost coach, because this naturally left him a shorter walk at the other end of the line; but this morning he deliberately swung aboard the rear car, because his tormentors were all going forward. He tramped stolidly down the aisle, paused at the first va- cant place, and without so much as a glance for the woman who sat by the window he slumped down beside her, and shielded himself with his newspaper, fully unfolded. Beside him he heard a smothered little laugh. “Why, Stephen!” It was the very la.t person in the universe he wanted to meet. In his immediate reaction Stephen only confirmed a discovery of last night; namely, that love, like the Gulf Stream, has a double current, hot and cold. But the inward chill of last night had been increased by the events of this morning, and it was further complicated by his physical sensations, which were the exact opposite of frigid. His cheeks glowed with embarrassment at the same time that his spirit congealed within him. Involun- tarily he put his hand to his withered collar. “Why—why, I didn’t see you get on,” he stammered. One of her most devastating accomplishments was her ability to convey by her voice and by her eyes two utterly What’s the matter—missed your

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different impressions. She offered him now his choice of the sweetest sympathy and of wicked banter. “What’s the matter, Stephen? 9» Did you miss your train? As the camel was eventually beaten to its knees by one straw too many, so was Stephen’s patience broken by the same question repeated once too often “Yes, I did,” he snapped. “And I don’t give a whoop who knows it either!” Miss Paget had begun a playful smile, but she instantly canceled it. The tone of her next remark was a distinct reproof. “You're Stephen’s mouth was a straight line, and his eye insurgent “Well, maybe I am. But you and everybody else in Oakmont seem to think you can make all kinds of a fool out of me while I just sit still and bear it. Well, you're I’ve had enough of it. I’m sick of it. If I were one of these sanctimonious gospel sharks with a washable white necktie and a face you could fit into a churn, maybe I could understand it. But I can’t read your mind; I have to judge by what you say. The idea seems to be that you don’t like me the way I am, but you might like me if I were somebody else. All right; let it go at that.” He wriggled unobt ly, and avoided the l-plush seat Miss Paget shook her head, and was slightly pathetic, as though it grieved her to be misjudged. “That isn’t what I said. I couldn't possibly have said it, because I don’t think it. I said you let the clock and the calendar and the conventions run you, Stephen ” too sensitive, Ste phen Ss were mistaken. back of the uSsi ve ISI\ her intonation and you I saw you on the platform when they were jollying 9° do too. Didn't that tell you whether I'm right or not He ignored the question and went on with the recital of his wrongs “And you said I’m too methodical, and too literal, and too puritanical; and you as much as called me a tightwad.”’ “Oh, Stephen!” “Well, didn’t you?” She lowered her eyes. if it isn’t true?” Stephen shook himself. “‘ Angry? I’ma you “*What makes you so angry, then, I'm not angry. I’m perfectly calm calm as anybody. But when you talk the-way you did last night you simply show that you don’t know me half as well as you think you do.” There was a glint of mischief in her eyes, and she allowed Stephen to espy it “You're not trying to tell me you've been deceiving us all these months? You're not a gay Lothario in disguise, are you, Stephen?” “As a matter of fact,’’ he said sharply, “I think you'd like me better if I were.’ ‘‘As a matter of fact,”’ she conceded with the utmost candor, “I probably should. Even if it made me take back every word I said last night and eat each one of them sepa- rately, without any sugar. Because then at least I'd know you've got some sentiment in you and not just the ma- chinery to keep you going.” There was passion in his eye ee it. to remove , but she pretended not to After a moment he used the newspaper as an excuse his attention. And, delicately, so as not to transmit any hint of his discomfort, he endeavored to draw away from his spine. “Up to yesterday,” he blind. I admit it. said, subdued, “I was pretty I’m not used to having women play horse with me. I took you seriously; I thought you'd do the with me. And every time fooled me | thought that would be the last time; I thought you'd at least return the compliment I paid you. It was silly, of I should have known better. But I’m not blind Oh, I knew you flirted with everybody. I'd seen you enough with Charlie Coolidge and the rest of the crowd, but I And in the fully. The most accomplished flirt in Oakmont gazed with deep innocence at the most gullible man in the world. “You can be cruel, can’t you? What I actually said was that 1 wished you could be more like other men—speak the same language, do what they do, act as though you enjoyed life. Could anything be more sincere than that?” Stephen began to backslide. ‘Is that all?” ‘Isn’t that enough?” He drew a long breath. ‘“‘ You want me to be more like well, Charlie Coolidge, for example?” She was looking at him from her lashes, and ter man before him, allowed his Same you course; any more oh, well, it doesn’t matter now.” succeeding instant he lifted his head hope- under Stephen, like many a b:

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 5 judgment, his intuitions and his common sense to be out- voted by a minority element, which was pure delusion. He possessed her hand and squeezed it violent! Thi act was in the nature of an apology and a vow combined. “Why, Stephen—you devil!” she whispered “T'll show you,” he promised. ‘I tell you, you don’t know me! What are you doing in town, Betty?” “Just shopping.” Stephen delayed for only a second and then he custom and principle into the discard “Tf you'll wait while I stop a few minutes at a haber- dasher’s I'll take you over in a taxicab.”’ threw She gave him a glance that nearly killed him. ‘You're making a good beginning, Stephen “If vou think the beginning is good, wait till you see the finish,”’ he said resolutely u JEHOLD Stephen, then, three-quarters of an hour later, arriving at his neglected office. Long since, his of recklessness had dropped away from him Miss Paget had appreciated his care of her, and she had thanked him prettily, but Stephen had been too net to absorb the blessing mood To be sure, ou His brain had twitched with im patience for its usual routine fodder; and, besides, during the side trip to the shopping district Miss Paget had beer thinking primarily of bargains and not of Stephen As he hurried past the switchboard operator he her saying that she had thought he must be ill or some thing. tum, where his secretary wa Stephen frowned and went on to his private san¢ fidgeting at a des} She sprang up to greet him “Oh, Mr. Benedict! I'm so relieved! was a wreck on the railroad “Anybody call up?” inquired Stephen short] “Nobody important. But when half and then ten o'clock, and still you didn’t “Anybody waiting? His secretary appraised his tone and became self-effacing “One. Stephen was pawing over his mail “He wouldn't tell me. He said it’ ] was sure there You never “ past nine < ime, He's been here all the morning.” ‘What's he want? a personal matter “Humph!” said Stephen. “Insurance solicit He'll have to wait.” He selected a letter from the pi ind (Continued on Page 46 v . ifaw ee F A ——F a ~*~ , Suddenty Stephen's Heart Turned Over, for He Jaw That Her Right Hand Hung Idily by Her Side, While Coolidge's Left Hung Idly by His Side

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Moscow's SMALL group of met , chosen by the Second Congress of the Third or Communist Inter- national, which had its sessions in Petro- grad and Moscow last July and August, is prepared to make a bid for greater world power than was Kaiser Wilhelm or any of his histori in the domain of world conquest ever dreamed of b forerunner lo this group the Communist Interr ational and hay powers have been delegated by constituting the executive committee of ing its headquarters in Moscow, extraordinary the last congress. The aims which these men are to pursue and the methods which they are to employ have been set forth with a remarkable degree of clarity in the proceed- ngs and the resolutior of the CONZTESS fifteen in number, have been desig- general staff of the Their to be the coérdinating and directing center of In every country These men, officially the committee is nated a world revolution. the communist activities the world over of the earth, every individual and group working openly ecretly for the cause of communism must take order from thi executive committe obey those order im plicitly and unqualifiedly, and look to the committee a the master and the last court of appeal laken individually or even as a group, these men do not represent outstanding figure Were they to be considered on the basis of their individual merit, they would deserve very little attention. None of them is a person of unusual ability None of them is even prominent in the affairs of his own country, with the exception of the five Russian representatives, whose claim to prominence in their coun- try rests upon the foundation of tragic historic accident namely, certain conditions growing out of the war, a foun- dation similar to that which constitutes the basis of the power of the whole committee and the International back of it 7 And yet the Communist International and its executive committee represent to-day a force to be reckoned with, a power before which some of the statesmen of Western Europe stand in confusion and almost in awe, while many of the enlightened leaders of socialist and radical thought humble themselves before it. This power, which is already wielded by the Moscow International, and on the basis of which its leaders are ready to make a bid for much greater pewer, rests principally upon one positive and two nega- tive elements of strength Three Elements of Strength HE first element of their strength lies in the fact that they have behind them, under their complete control, the vast resources of Russia. They can draw upon the immense natural wealth of the major portion of what was formerly one-seventh of the earth's surface and upon what remains of Russia’s economic equipment. The teeming millions of Russia’s population are hostile to them, but are lashed into obedience by the harshest methods of terror and crushing discipline that civilization has ever known. Through the application of the same methods, only raised—if such a thing is possible to an even higher degree of ruthlessness, the leaders in Moscow have created the Red army, a fight- ing machine held in leash like a ferocious mastiff. In their power Russia has ceased to exist as a nation and has merely become a powerful base of the world revolution In their hands Moscow has ceased to represent Russia and has become the storm center of this rapidly gathering hurricane of destruction The other two elements of their strength are negative, because they represent primarily their opponents’ weak- The first of these is the lack of unity among the great democratic nations of the world, which had made their war effort so mighty and the disappearance of which makes their peace efforts so weak and ineffective. The second is the general slackening of moral and intellectual fiber which exists in every country as a reaction against the strain of the war A determined group, arrogant and daring, backed and Russia, can utilize to the fullest extent these temporary weaknesses. Especially are the chances of such a group good, since its appeal is to the destructive rather than the constructive nature of man. Each nation faces grave difficulties as it passes through the period of convalescence from the war Insidious and skillful propaganda of the kind of which the ieaders of the Moscow International are past masters can easily turn the masses into the path of least resistance, the path of destruction. Let the masses lose confidence in everything there is, let them turn upon civilization itself and begin to demolish its very founda- tions, and before long we shall have Russia's experience repeated on a world scale, all the ties that hold civilized life together broken asunder in the orgy of destruction, the orgy itself soon over and the masses awakening from ness inspired with confidence by its success in fever. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST d for World By LEO PASVOLSK Y Bi their frenzy merely to find themselves already in the grip of an iron discipline imposed by the determined group which alone had not lost its head during the orgy. And then what? Oppression always breeds rebellion. And rebellion in conditions of hatred and persistently stimulated enmity, suppressed and suddenly breaking loose, can result in nothing but utter chaos. The edifice of civilization is the work of centuries, the toil of countless and nameless generations. Its destruction and the diversion of the materials and forces thus released to purposes that are more than problematic is a matter of comparative ease, provided there is sufficient daring or sufficient madness The Communist International came into existence only a year and a half ago. It was a strenuous time for the whole world, when in the press of other problems there wa an almost universal tendency to push the question of Russia and of the rising tide of communism or Bolshevism into the background. The peace conference in Paris was making its attempts to adjust the questions raised by the war. At the same time the leaders of socialist parties, which had supported their governments during the war, met for a conference in Bern, in an attempt to reconstruct their international organization, known as the Second or Socialist International, and shattered by the war. Maxim Gorky’s Analysis HE formation of the Third or Communist Interna- tional was a challenge to both Paris and Bern. In their proclamation, calling the first congress of the new International, issued on February 24, 1919, the leaders in Moscow described the world situations as follows: The revolutions in Russia, Germany and the countries of the former Austro-Hungarian Empire had brought the possibility of a world revolution close to a realization. This world revolution, however, was threatened from two directions. In the first place, there was danger and possi- bility of its being stifled by the association of capitalistic states, which are organizing for a struggle against this revolution under the hypocritical standard of a League of Nations. In the second place, attempts were being made by the social-traitor parties to make up their differences, to amnesty each other, and then help their governments and their bourgeoisie to deceive again the working class. The communist leaders in Moscow proposed then to fight the Allies and the League of Nations by means of a world revolution, which would destroy the capitalistic states and establish in their place the dictatorship of the proletariat. At the same time Moscow proposed to make every effort to break up the Second International and to obtain control over the parties of which it was made up. What the communist leaders were then trying to do, and still hope to do, was never expressed so well as in the following lines, written by Maxim Gorky in analyzing the psychology of Bolshevism and of its leader, Lenine: The working class cannot but understand that Lenine is merely trying to perform a certain experiment upon the body and the blood of the working class; that he is merely trying to bring the revolutionary attitude of the prole- tariat to the last degree of strain, and then see what would happen. And Lenine, of course, is not an all-powerful magician but a cold-blooded trickster who cares nothing for the life or the honor of the proletariat. The workmen of Russia should not permit adventurers and madimen to pile upon the head of the proletariat shameful, senseless and bloody crimes, for which the price will be paid not by Lenine but by the proletariat itself. The first year following the creation of the Communist International at the Moscow Congress of March, 1919, did not bring any startling developments. In Russia it was a year of the acutest stage of the civil war, in which four anti-Bolshevist movements, mishandled both by their Russian leaders and by their Allied supporters, collapsed one after another. In the rest of the world, in the countries of Europe and America, as well as in the various countries and colonial territories of Asia and Africa, persistent propaganda was carried on under many and various guises. The preparatory work for a world revolution was proceeding ceaselessly. At the beginning of the present year the soviet govern- ment found itself face to face with difficulties of very serious nature in the domain of Russia’s economic life. Russia’s agriculture, industry, commerce, finance—every branch of the country’s national economy is admittedly disorganized. The communist leaders realize that their power cannot continue long unless the bases of economic life are reconstructed at least to some degree. And so at November 20,1920 owe the beginning of the year they began to bend all their energies toward Russia’s internal eco- nomie reconstruction. The world revolution was becoming a long-drawn-out process. In the meantime it was most important for the communist leaders to preserve their own power in Russia in order to have a powerful base for operations. But the war with Poland interrupted this and intro- duced a new element into the work and the outlook of the leaders of communism. The startling success of the soviet forces during the second stage of the war, following the brief triumph of Marshal Pilsudski’s offensive into Ukraine, brought two important revelations to the leaders at Moscow. In the first place, the Allied coalition and the League of Nations suddenly proved to be powerless. They could do very little toward saving Poland. If Poland finally succeeded in turning her defeat into a partial vic- tory, it was because the Red army repeated the psycho- logically strategic blunder made by Pilsudski— that of marching so far into the enemy's country as to cause ther an outburst of patriotism based upon outraged national feeling The second revelation to Moscow was the sudden possibility of a rapid advance of the world revolution There appears to have been a gigantic plan back of the military movements of the Red army in Poland. The suc- cesses of the Red army, backed by necessary propaganda, were intended to sweep Poland into the fold of communism. A provisional Polish communist government was already designated. With Poland sovietized, it was expected that Germany and Italy would follow suit; and this would sweep the states of the former Austro-Hungarian Empire and of the Balkans also into the grasp of communism. Then all the forces of Central and Eastern Europe would be turned against France. The French workmen were even warned that it was immaterial for the masters of the Communist International whether they marched with German troops against France or with French troops against Germany, provided the object of the expedition was the establishment of communism. Englard could be threatened both at the metropolis, that is, om che islands, and through the colonies and the depen. ncies. The United States would then remain isolated, but surely scarcely a match for the combined and coérdinated forces of Europe and of Asia. Plans Delayed But Not Abandoned T THE time when the Second Congress of the Third International held its sessions in the latter part of July and the beginning of August the Red army was still vic- torious on the field of battle. In reporting the work of the congress to the Petrograd soviet, Nicholas Bukharin, a member of the executive committee of the Communist International, summarized in the following sentence the possibilities which the communist leaders saw opening before them: . “Our Red army will march forward to new conquests, and the Western proletariat will march with it, clearing the way for it in the struggle with the world imperialism.”’ The reverses which the Red army suffered in Poland have delayed the execution of these ambitious plans, but they have not by any means obviated the possibility of their being carried out. For after all, military movements are but outward manifestations. The World War has demon- strated conclusively that the victory is prepared and assured not so much on the battle front as far behind the enemy’s lines, by means of skillfully conducted propa ganda. The Red army still exists; the organization that brought it into being and directs it is still active. What it may still do even on the battlefield is problematic. Th« negotiations for peace, even if temporarily successful, would be no more than temporary arrangements — and both sides know it. For the communist leaders are now apparently convinced that a continuous process of the world revolution is possible only if it becomes an extension of the Russian process through physical contiguity. What ever moves Moscow makes in the West, Poland is her first step. The Second Congress of the Third International marked the inauguration of a new epoch and a new line of pro- cedure as far as the work of the International is concerned. The First Congress spoke of unity of action and coérdina- tion of effort as desirable; the Second Congress has made it imperative. The First Congress called for action by any group, isolated or not; the Second Congress wants only strictly coérdinated and subordinated action, under unified and centralized control and direction. The First Congress worked in the hope of convincing the working classes of the world that they should follow the standards of com- munism; the Second Congress is prepared to compel them to fall in line for this. The First Congress hoped, as the outlook for the immediate future, to establish communist

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 7 authority in some countries and obtain a kind of alli- ance of such communist countries; the Second Congress lays plans for world power, not on the basis of a possible alliance but on the basis of a world communist state. In order to achieve this the Second Congress of the Third International has laid the strategic plans necessary for action, and has also designated a general staff of the world revolution, charged with the execution of these strategic plans. These plans, set forth in the resolutions of the congress, indicate the direction which this latest bid for world power intends to follow. What are these strategic plans of the Moscow Commu- nist International? In order to understand them clearly we must examine, first of all, the foundation upon which the Communist International bases its work. This foundation is the com- munist analysis of the world situation at the present time. In terms of this analysis the Communist International shapes its policies and determines the points of attack. Some Misleading Computations HE communist analysis of the world situation was given to the congress at Moscow by Nikolai Lenine, the undisputed leader of world communism, in a very long and loosely constructed speech. Lenine sees as the central feature or even the basis of the international situation the rapid growth of imperialism—that is, of domination, political and economic, exercised by the so-called Great Powers outside of their national boundaries. And it is par- ticularly the economic phase of this world imperialism, being an outgrowth of the whole capitalistic system, that constitutes, according te Lenine, the very essence of the present-day condition of the world. Internally—that is, within each particular country capitalistic imperialism expresses itself in the growth of monopoly, which rapidly displaces free competition. Sources of wealth and means of production rapidly be- come the property of comparatively small groups of capi- talists, particularly the bankers, who control them for personal aggrandizement and profit. But capitalism is not content with this internal monopoly. It seeks sources of profit outside of its own country. It becomes imperial- istic par excellence. Externally—that is, outside the na- tional boundaries of the Great Powers—imperialism finds expression in the development of the colonial policy. Lenine calculates that thirty years ago the population of all the colonies controlled by the six Great Powers was not more than a quarter of a billion. On the eve of tle World War, in 1914, the population of the colonies was already six hundred million. To this number Lenine adds also the population of Persia, Turkey and China, which he considers as already fallen at that period into a semi- colonial condition, and gets a total colonial and semicolonial population of about one billion. The outstanding result of the World War has been a redistribution of the colonial and semicolonial lands from the point of view of ownership and control, and the reduction of countries which were formerly economically independent to conditions of economic dependence closely approximating those of semicolonial countries. Into this last class Lenine puts particularly Russia, with a population of one hundred and thirty millions, and Germany, Austria, Hungary and Bulgaria, with a total population of one hundred and twenty millions. Thus to the figure of colonial and semi- colonial population already noted he adds another quarter of a billion, and gets a total of one and one-quarter billion as the population of countries totally or partially depend- ent economically upon the Great Powers. Of the countries which have profited by the war and which now control this colonial and semicolonial popula- tion Lenine mentions particularly the United States, with a population of one hundred million; Japan, with a popu- lation of fifty million; and England, with a population of fifty million. To these three he adds the several less im- portant countries. On the basis of this calculation he computes the total population of the controlling Great Powers as one quarter of a billion. Thus Lenine conceives of the world as being divided substantially into two parts: One and a quarter billion people economically exploited and controlled by a quarter of a billion. Within the controlling quarter of a billion he finds small groups controlling and exploiting the rest. This state of affairs results in a series of fundamental in capitalism and imperialism, and also in a series of contradictions inherent which must lead to revolutions; similarly fundamental contradictions in the labor move- ment that does not follow the revolutionary methods, contradictions which lead to a bitter struggle of com- munism against reformist evolutionary socialism. Some of the contradictions in the first case, particularly glaring a. the present time, are the increase of national indebted ness, economic disorganization due to lack of correspond- ence between wages and prices, the depreciation of money, and so on. What Lenine Fears Most of Ali T IS doubtful whether this whole analysis of Lenine would stand the test of even a superficial scientific criti- cism or, for that matter, of a plain examination in the light of commonly known facts; and no doubt Lenine himself knows that he is inaccurate in the presentation of facts and unscientific in his deductions. But he wants his analysis for a definite purpose, and that purpose he achieves. He wants to prove that the methods of disposing of these manifest difficulties as applied by people of noncommunist political and economic ilk are inadequate. In proving this he first of all directs a diatribe against Wilsonism. Judg- ing by the bitterness with which he attacks what Wilson stood for at his best and what Lenine now calls an illusion, it is this Wilsonism, this liberalism based upon justice and fair play, that Lenine fears most of all as an antidote for his communism. But Wilsonism, so Lenine assures us, has been swept into the scrap heap and no longer counts The League of Nations, which had been brought forward as a solution of the world’s ills, according to his view, no longer has anything tostand on. And by its obvious failure it merely serves as the best possible proof of the inadequacy of all means short of those preached by the communists, and consequently as the best agitator for Bolshevism. And the conclusion which Lenine wishes drawn from all this, and which he himself draws, is that since the exist- ing system has failed to dispose of the contradictions which are inherent in it the whole system must be swept away (Continued on Page 138) NO FOREIGN por TiCAl. m PETS Sey 2. ie J 7] On TH PERMATIED & “You'll Have to Leave Those Outside"’ - er ee el = A ner et

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SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 J HEN my friend Perei to me and to Paula Ostuni on the outside the Hotel Dandolo at Venice into his gondola | saw that the It was not grief at . though | was his friend hand in his airy Oxford way, And then he turned to the girl, roots of his hair, and took her hand—a hand, as I had ofter ' were drawn to it by the clustered diamonds of her rings il Croring said good-b tep before jUMpiny boy Wa sbeurdly overcome by emotion parting with me, needless to say He just shook my “So long old blushing up to th and said, man pretty noticed, because one’s eyes and raised it to his lips, and said in Italian, “A rivederci, adonna , Those words were commonplace enough, a formal au revoir, but they were spoken with an immense boyish tenderness and infinite regret for this parting, which I had arranged by he would have thought it that had he known—-so that he should be taken away from this girl, the wife of Count Ostuni, who was also my friend a kind of treachery “IT hope to see you soon again,” she answered in Eng- lish, and then laughed a little as though at some secret joke. I think that laughter hurt him, and I saw by the look in his eyes that he was surprised because she showed no touch of grief at his going. 1 was glad of it, and thought, “The minx is not so bad as I supposed. Perhaps she did not lead him on so fast as I imagined.” “Somewhere, and soon, I'll find you again,” boy said the ‘As soon as my mother is better “ He did not know that I had written to his mother, say ing, ““Make some reason why Percival should go home quickly. I am afraid of trouble here.” She had given the reason of ill health, which was true enough, dear lady, because she was always ailing. She had been very quick to take my hint, and her telegram had come to this Venetian hotel in less than two days after the receipt of my message, which was fast, as Italian wires working then ‘Pronto! said the gondolier, and with a stroke of his were long oar sent his boat gliding out of the narrow canal by the side of our hotel to the broad sunlit water of the Grand Canal, where many gondolas lay in waiting by the landing tage, with their slim black bodies and steel prows shim mering in the glare of light The Italian girl and I, standing above the wet steps in our waterway below the high blank walls of old palaces—in the sixteenth century our hotel had been one of the most splendid pal aces of this republic on the sea the shadowy coolness of two gray watched Goring’s boat hoot out into the sunlight, saw how the white jacket of the gondolier caught the first splash of that noonday glare, and how Goring’s panama hat was touched by it before he took it off and waved The Countess Ostuni, reckless of hotel porters, hotel guests and of me, put the tips of her fingers to her lips and blew kisses with them to that boy in the boat, that English boy on whom I had promised his mother to keep an eye. By Sir Philip ILLUSTRATED Said the Boy “Somewhere, and Soon, I'tt Find You Again," Br He saw her message with those white finger tips, and I think he was tempted instantly to come back. I saw him rise from his seat and put his hand on the gondolier’s arm with an eager imperative gesture. The gondola swung round a little, but then, after a kind of hesitation, answered another stroke of the blade, and disappeared from our view round the corner of the Grand Canal The Italian girl turned to me full-faced, and I saw that her eyes were wet with tears, which she did not try to hide. She spoke to me with a harshness of tone which was startling because often I had admired the sweetness and music of her voice “You are glad he is gone! You are much relieved in your stupid, suspicious mind! You are too old, perhaps, to understand a youthful friendship.” “Not very old, countess,” I said, “but old enough to know that between an emotional boy and a young married woman friendship sometimes leads to tragedy.” She laughed, with a quick pretty hunch of the shoulders, graceful as neat in all her movements, whatever she did. “You are very English!” ‘And you,” I answered, “very Italian!” ‘Italian women have quick wits. I saw quickly that you disliked me very much. That amused me! I shall be more amused when Percival comes back and you are frightened again.” “He is going straight through to England,” I told her, and at those words she made a funny face at me—she was a merry beauty, I must admit—and said in a mysterious and teasing way, “I wonder! You know your old proverb, ‘There's many a cup ‘twixt lip and How does it go?” “Not quite like that,” I laughed. “‘ But in half an hour young Goring will be in the train to Paris.” I was wrong. In half an hour young Goring was back again at the hotel. I was leaning out of my bedroom win- dow on the first floor of the Hétel Dandolo, listening to the band on the American battleship lying out there in the Grand Canal, and watching the coming and going of gondolas from the landing stage and the ceaseless proces- sion along the quay side of Venetian girls in their long black shawls, barefooted boys, dandy Italian officers, American sailor boys, monks and nuns, merchants and beggars and cripples passing across the little stone bridge whose old stones have been hollowed by the footsteps of three hundred years of Venetian life. I was not thinking of that human picture below me, though I did as a matter of fact notice a kind of sullen look on some of the faces of the Italian workmen who passed, and the hostile deliberate way in which a huge fellow spat on the stones as he passed the hotel. I was thinking of young Goring, with an immense sense of relief that he had gone. But she was in no melting mood. , laborers, Gibbs D. KOERNER During the last three weeks he had been far too much with Paula Ostuni. I had introduced them in the tea lounge, that wonderful room downstairs, with its marble pillars and painted walls and star- spangled ceiling and portraits of doges, cardinals and princes who once had moved across these polished boards. They had talked two minutes together, and then young Goring had said, “It’s a pity to waste the music! Won't you dance?”” She had given him her arms, and I had watched them making their way rhythmically through the little crowd of dancers who, between four and six, made a cosmopolitan throng in this room, beyond the tea tables. A strange crowd—of Italian profiteers and their women, Italian actresses and dancing girls, officers of the Bersa- glieri and Carabinieri, with English tourists, abashed sometimes by the startling frocks of the Italian ladies, American naval officers out for fun with their nurses of the Y. M.C. A. or with lady friends of a more expensive kind, and a sprinkling of Greeks and Israelites and Germans waiting at Venice a few days before going eastward or westward. Young Goring and the Countess Ostuni were certainly the prettiest couple there. The boy was as good a type as any that comes from an English public school, fine and tall and clean in line— youth, as a sculptor sees it in his mind’s eye. The girl was a match for him, but utterly un- English with her black hair and eyes and ripe lips and full white throat. Certainly she was beautiful and enticing. She had laughing, rather catlike eyes and a wonderful grace of body which does not belong as a rule to English girls. I remember that afternoon she wore a dress of gold- embroidered silk, with an old-gold fringe, which was the fashion at that time—the fringe, I mean. It was very low at the neck and not, I must admit, very low below the knee, but she was a slim and girlish creature who looked well in such a frock. Goring and she danced together then for the first time, and many times afterward, as though they had been di- vinely matched. It was a pleasure to watch them, a per- fect melody of rhythmic movement. A pleasure, though even at that first time I was startled by some look on the boy’s face, as though he had been caught up into the seventh heaven. Afterward, when other people noticed how often they danced together, and how utterly oblivious of all but their own words and looks they were, I was worried. More worried when they went out at night for long gondola rides on the Grand Canal, and when Goring came back with an excited look and shining eyes. Count Ostuni was in Rome then, before the resignation of his offi¢e as Minister of Commerce, after a storm of popular fury, and he only came to Venice three days before to-day, when Goring ieft for England. “Thank heaven the child has gone to England!” I said aloud, and at that very minute there was a sharp knock at my door, and in the child came, flushed and troubled. “Good heavens!" I exclaimed. “Why have you come back?”

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“An extraordinarily foolish thing has hap- pened,” he answered in his quiet way. “Some- body has pinched my passport. I swear I had it in my pocket half an hour before I left. At the station I felt for it, and I'll be hanged if it hadn’t gone! Of course they wouldn’t let me on the train. Without a passport one can’t move a yard these days. What’s to be done?” “Find the thief,” I told him. “I know who it is.” “You know?” He was astounded at that. “Paula Ostuni,”’ I said quietly. “T’ve no doubt about it. She played the pickpocket, the little devil, so that you should miss your train.” Percival Goring glared at me angrily for a moment, and then laughed. “What extraordinary notions you do have! If there were a murder committed in this hotel you would think Paula had a hand in it. You’re infernally prejudiced against her—for some unknown reason.” “T haven’t told you my reason,” I answered, ‘‘but I think you guess it.” His face flushed instantly, and he went over to the window and stood there, talking, with his back to me, while he stared out at the canal and tied knots in the window cord. “You guess wrong. You've got an idea that I want to run away with Paula or do some fool’s trick like that. As a matter of fact that’s all rot. There’s a splen- did friendship between us, and she’s the most won- derful girl I’ve ever known, and I'll be as miserable as hell if I can’t see her pretty often. But nothing more than that.” I followed him across the room and put my hand on his shoulder. “Look here,” I said. “I’m almost old enough to be your father, and anyhow I’ve promised your mother to keep an That gives me the right to say things which What I want to say is just You don’t know your own strength or your own when temptation will find the weak spot in No fellow does at your age. Some fellows experience. I want to save you that eye on you sound like cheek otherwise. this: weakness your armor learn by tragi tragedy. That girl Paula has no more morality than a kitten. Anyhow, she’s an Italian, with a different code from us. And even if she were a saint which she isn’t—-she’s too pretty and too passionate to be safe company for a boy like you or a man like me. My advice, old lad, is, cut and run before the fat’s in the fire.” He shook my hand off his shoulder savagely ‘*Rot! You belong to the older generation. You were taught to be afraid of women—that cut-and-run policy of a dirty old Puritanism which sees no innocence in friendship between men and women. We've got beyond that. We’re more healthy. Paula and I could be on a desert island and be good pals—and nothing more.” What can one say to words like that? Just nothing at all. That re- mark about the older generation was some- thing of a body blow, and this boy’s calm assurance of superior wisdom, due to having been born some years later in the world’s history, was beyond argument, as youth is always beyondargument, and beyond warning, and always will be, accord- ing to the law of life, which makes human ex- perience, the wisdom of the old, a million tragic lessons of the past, inca- pable of transmission. “ Anyhow, Paula has got your passport,” I said. “ You had better hurry up and get it from her or you will lose the evening train.” He denied utterly that Paula Ostuni could be capable of such a trick knowing that his mother was ill and needed him. But I saw, or think I saw, that my definite assertion caused him some uneasiness, and that, according to the way of youth, the thought that the girl should have pinched his passport to keep him back was not unpleasing, “Iam Here. Do Your Killing Quickly"’ THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 9 in spite of his anxiety about his mother. It showed her desire for his company. Poor kid! Still, as he repeated, the idea was absurd! I am certain it was true, all the same, because of the wicked little smile the girl gave me across the boy’s shouldei as they went dancing again in that room which I had come to hate in spite of its Renaissance beauty, and because Percival’s passport was discovered tucked down the back of the sofa where they had been sitting before his false start for Paris. She found it by accident, with a very natural air of surprise, and cried out with a ripple of laughter, “ How careless you are, Percival!” It was found in time for him to have caught the night train, but by that time all of us in the hotel, and Paula Ostuni, knew that there would be no night train, because Venice had joined the railway strike, which had been spasmodic in Italy for several weeks The news had been telephoned through to the hall porter from Cook’s office at the corner of St. Mark’s Square, and had caused consternation among the little crowd of people who were already having their luggage put into the gondolas and had already said good-hy to friends in the great hall An American business man said, “ For the love of Mike! And they call this darned country the cradle of civiliza- tion!” A rich Greek family, on their way to Liverpool, stood disconsolate among their hand baggage, and the father abused the hotel manager for not letting them know be fore. I noticed that two of the waiters laughed to each other, as though vastly amused by the inconvenience to people who did not give them tips, according to the new rule placarded in the rooms and in the lifts: “Le Mance sono assolutamente vietati.”’” Afterward I saw some of these fellows whispering together. It was Count Ostuni who gave me a more serious view of the matter than I had first taken. He touched me on the arm as I stood in the hall, and said, “I want to talk to you. Let’s find a quiet corner.” We found two of the big low leather chairs at the far end of the room, by the high stone chimney piece sculptured with the arms of the Dandoli, as far away as possible from the minstrels’ gallery below the pointed arches where the orchestra was playing after dinner. Up there in the open galleries which looked down into this central hall were groups of people who had just dined and were sitting on the balustrades or leaning over them, watching the scene be low, and chatting to each other and smoking Cigarettes (Continued on Page 86 “We'll Let the Lambkin Go if You Tell Us Where to Find the Wolf"’ tt A A + eee teee eee

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SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 ly am Old Guide walked the legs off that lieutenant the other day. As I say, just plain luck has saved me. In forty-eight years my only hurts have been a case of lockjaw due to a gun exploding in my hands and the loss of part of my shin bone when an excited duck shooter blew a hole through the bottom of my gunning kiff back in the nineties. I never was really reckless, but | im getting more and more careful I'd like to live to be a every year. hundred. Nowadays I can size up these scatterbrained sportsmen the moment I see them coming to my dock, and I refuse to take them out. Even at that I sometimes make a slip. Two months ago two young men, recommended by an old hunting friend in New York, came down to the marshes for plover and yellowleg nipe shooting. I took them upstairs in my boathouse to equip them in rubber The fact that they had not thought of rubber boots should have tipped me off that they knew nothing about gunning —especially for nipe—but it didn’t. In the boathouse there is always a lot of old junk lying about clothes, caps, guns and things like that On this day four or five guns left by some of my regular patrons were on the racks. One was still standing against the wall, a thing that caused me to stop and utter a cuss word, “What kind of a gun is that?” asked boots boots, Looking Across Lake Rachet " HAVE been a hunting and fishing guide for forty-five | years. At the age of sixty-eight I am still working at my trade Just a few weel igo on a hike across the I had to stop to let a young infantry lieutenant a half hour's rest. Yes, true, spreading gossip in our little fishing village that I am about to get married again The fact that I have lived to be active at sixty-eight is not all due strong constitution, though. Luck has played a big part. I have had dealings with many fool folks in my time, and I dare say I have had more narrow escapes from accident than the average soldier had during the war. Incidentally I tried my best to get in that war just to see what it was like, but the best they would let me do was build speed boats and do the woodwork on airplanes. I thought a right smart about that medical officer who turned me down on account of age when I meadows have and though it is not ome fellow has been Lo my one of the young fellows. Out of curiosity he picked it up and tried it to his shoulder several times He sighted it and—pulled the trigger! The explosion ounded like the report of a cannon in the little boathouse. The load of bird shot blew a hole as big as your fist through the wall, taking with it parts of a gunning coat and an old slicker. “IT didn’t know it was loaded,” stammered the young fellow as he saw the expression on my face. He was as pale as a sheet. “No,” I spoke severely, “and you didn’t know it wasn’t loaded either.” “Of course not, but I had no idea that —— “Then why did you pull the trigger?” “Why, I just snapped it to test the trigger pull!” “People round here,” I told him, “don’t go round snap- ping strange guns, or their own for that matter. It is not only dangerous, but it ruins the plungers. Now, look here, don’t you touch another thing in this boathouse! When old ” —-— in Yellowstone National Park Mack sent you down here I didn’t think you’d be like these other old fool folks who go round 2 “‘Isn’t that pretty strong?” “No, it isn’t strong enough. Now you and your friend go out there and sit on the landing until I tell you when to get in the boat. I'll put everything where it belongs, and don’t you lay your hands on a thing. I’m going to take you out because I promised Mack that I would, but I’m not going far unless you do exactly what I tell you.” We have to talk rough to folks like that. Maybe I talk too rough sometimes, but I’m still alive, while some of my old friends are not. These young fellows took the call- down all right. “As a rule,” I told them after I had stowed them in the boat, “‘I would refuse to start with you fellows; but you are no more to blame than the fellow who leaned a gun up (Continued on Page 34) .@ AG Me 2 2 We. y a ; A Camp Near the Headwaters of the Falis River, Yetlowstone Park

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 11

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The park administration has its hand full, and capable hands they are. Very littl time has been allotted this busy crew for ex ploration and research. Hence the super tendents have not visited the southwe BILL has passed the United States Sen- ate and is pending in the House giving about eight thousand acres of the Yellowstone National Park to Idaho Irrigationists ; This land is in the southwest corner, one of the most beautiful parts of the park. It is almost unknown. Only one park super-

corner to check up the occasional statement of a lone ranger: “That's a fine country down there You ought to see those water ; intendent has visited this vicinity, and that falls.” } was about twenty-five years ago. The pres- Of those rangers I have found only two, ent superintendent, Mr. Horace M. Albright, McBride and Little, who have ever beer was going over this region in late September through this section and know all its beaut ! There are more falls and cascades in this So much for why it is unknown / small corner than in all the rest of the park A glance at the map of the Yellowstone Park shows this southwest corner in blac put together. Of more than forty of these features, thirty-five are unnamed and, so far as I can learn, not one of the forty was ever Its nearest point of tourist travel is Old : ee ® Faithful Geyser. With my two daughter we! Mr. A. H. Dinsmore; Horace LaBree, a pack-horse outfitter; Jim Russell, a first-class

photograp! ed before oes ————_—______-_- This region presents no unusual obstacles Two Views of Cave Falls, Falis River cook; and sixteen pack and saddle horse to the trail or road builder ’ What is the explanation? we left Old Faithful August tent We The superintendent of the park and his JB Wit Jl NRUM ( GREGG camped two days on the hot-spring-lined . . 7 0 , , 1" assistants are as busy as bees attending to shore of Shoshone Lake. There I persuaded LaBree and Russell that I could not be diverted from my plan to cut right through a trackle

tourists in the summer and to poachers in the winter. The former come into the park in great dangerous fires, writing their foolish names in beauty spots

droves, the usual proportion asking questions, violating and breaking off mineral specimens. It is night-and-day country and do some real exploration worl They hac rules, scalding themselves in boiling springs, leaving work for those charged with keeping the park where the Continued on Page 78) good Lord placed it; otherwise it would be scattered from Maine to California ae ae r On September fifteenth the tourist sea |

| son ends; on October first the hunting | season commences in the surrounding states. The park borders must be patrolled and the |

game protected from those hunters who have a strange optical ability to see the game but not a perfectly plain boundary line. F Wolves and coyotes must be shot when possible, as in the deep snow they kill even the biggest game.

;

PHOTOS YRIGMT @Y WILLIAM e Unnamed Falls, Boundary Creek, 130 Feet Ouzel Falls, 380 Feet Colonnade Falls, Bechter River — Upper 40 Feet, Lower 8&0 Feet SE A i A a ttt - A a ae a ke - —<

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Answering Questions Put to Him by a Uniformed Man, He Catted Them Butts, and Hated Them, Despised Them [ have seen wicked men and foo i great many of both: and | believe they both get paid in the end, but the fools first rR] S HE went out between the two placid men from Head- A quarters, men who appalled him by their calm indifference to the tragedy in which they were in- volved, Fraser discovered that Ann Whittaker hated him. The others, from kindliness or embarrassment, took pains not tosee him. Behind Ann Whittaker he observed Old McKenna submerged in his order books, Canty ham- mering away at the adding machine, Foster fingering his index cards—as if nothing out of the smooth routine were happening. Only the one face lifted and turned as his guards led him past the railing. For a pulse beat he braced himself to see compassion, hating and hoping for it. What he saw, instead, as their eyes locked, took his breath, sickened him as a boxer is sickened by a blow below the helt She was glad. There was no mistaking the message of those eyes, kindled with the first warmth he had ever seen in them; of the smile, which drew the thin lips back from white sharp teeth; of the color lifting in the pallor of the cheeks. She was glad—not with the frozen gladness he might have found almost normal in the Ann Whittaker he had known, but with something elemental, something as frankly cruel as the pleasure of a savage in the torture of a captive enemy. It seemed to Fraser, as he obeyed the pressure of the steel ring about his wrist, that he had seen into Ann Whit- taker’s soul. The idea distracted his thought from himself. He would never have guessed that she had asoul. Certainly he would not have believed that she could hate anybody as he knew she hated him. Gradually, during the short ride, he lost interest in the matter. He was too sorry for himself to think long about anything else. There was upon him a conviction of injus- tice, a sense of conspiracy against him, of a willful refusal to understand that he had merely borrowed, that he had done nothing dishonest, that he was perfectly willing and nble to pay in full—if they'd give him a chance to turn round. He was so possessed by the idea that everything could be explained that he tried to tell the two plain- clothes men about it on the way to Headquarters They listened patiently. One of them was chewing gum lazily —a fattish, weak-chinned fellow, not in the least like a policeman. Frazer felt that he'd be willing to let a prisoner get away if it could be managed without any fuss. The other was harder— Fraser thought he might have made a capable longshoreman or something like that. Neither of them displayed any interest-—not even disap- proval. They nodded and agreed that it was too bad and the fattish man said that it would prob’ly come out all right. Lots of ’em did. But something happened to Fraser as he walked past the white-haired amiable veteran who sat beside the doorway. He was distinctly conscious of a change in himself —some- thing vital and permanent and complete, as if the Tommy Fraser he had been had stayed outside on the pavement ind a different man had come in between the two bulls The word eurried a kind of spite into his mind. He had TE VENSON always thought of policemen as policemen or officers or, playfully, as cops. He had rather liked them, too, felt a kind of gratitude toward them as he crossed traffic streams divided by their lifted palms or heard the musical clang of night stick on pavement in still hours and lonesome streets. Now, answering questions put to him by a uniformed man behind a kind of bar, he called them bulls, and hated them, despised them, began to fear them. “They've made a crook of me now.” He felt as if the two who had arrested him, the old door- man, the fellow behind the desk, had worked the change. Outside, even with the handcuff biting at his wrist, he’d heen somebody else-—an innocent, misunderstood victim of circumstances, Here, with his name and pedigree in that book—they called it a blotter, didn’t they?—he was a thief and knew it. Somebody spoke of getting bail, sending for a lawyer. He accepted the suggestion sullenly, annoyed by the com- plete want of malice. All a bluff of course. These men earned their living by this business. They might pretend to be friendly, but underneath they were intent on rail- roading him into the pen. That was their job, making crooks out of people. He mentioned Line Dorner, and the desk man telephoned for him. “He'll be right over.” Fraser understood the gesture. Again he had the sense of undergoing some chemical change as he submissively entered the narrow iron cage and watched its barred door shut. It was as if the atmosphere fixed his new identity in him. He'd never be anything but a crook now. They'd managed it quickly —old, fussy, horrified Simpson, kicking up a row like this over a measly two or three thousand; the bonding company, thirsty for blood; these paid man- catchers. Between them they'd done something to Tommy Fraser that couldn’t be undone—ever. He sat on the plank bench and scowled at the bars. All right, if they wanted him to be a crook they could have it their way. His mind jumped ahead. Sooner or later he'd be out of this. And then—he drew in his breath. If the world in- sisted that Tommy Fraser was a crook the world could pay for it. He'd make it come high next time. No small change after this. It was the cheapness of the present disaster which enraged him now. Only three thousand or less! If he'd meant to steal he could have made it thirty as well as not! Because he'd been honest, because he’d only borrowed a bit, with every intention of putting it back, they’d made a thief of him! Even then he foresaw that there was no chance of an acquittal for him. Broke. If he’d taken a decent lump and put it away safely he could have dickered with them perhaps; fought it through the courts, anyway. As it was well, it couldn't be helped. But it would have been cheaper to keep him honest. He was utterly sure of that Because if he hadn’t wanted to go straight he could have cleaned up long ago. He chuckled at the memory of how eagerly Simpson had fallen for his suggestion of that short-cut system with the books— it saved him the price of one bookkeeper. Never occurred to him that it also gave Fraser a beautiful chance to cover up those borrowings. SATURDAY EVENING POST By Hugh MacNair Kahler rTrLELEVU STRATE DO SF H#. J- November 20,1920 SQOULEWN The old fool never dreamed that Fraser had framed it up just so that he could help himself when he ran short. It had always been that way, ever since Fraser could remember. He'd always had a sort of instinct for the crooked profit in any situation—from the time he’d spotted the way to beat the sixth-grade teacher at examination. He hadn’t done it, because he could pass without it, but he’d known how it could be done. He hadn’t had to doctor the grocery pass book, either, to get candy and chestnuts and cider for the gang, but he’d seen how to manage it—the first time he understood the system itself. At high school, when they made him treasurer of the athletic association, he'd rendered true account of every nickel, but always he had seen exactly where and how he could have helped himself. The clear- ness of these visions had given him a sort of active pride in his honesty; knowing that he could have stolen without risk, he had deliberately played straight. So with the course at business college, when the science of book keeping revealed a dozen easy loopholes to his interested inspec- tion; and with his early jobs, where he saw safe chances to steal at every turn—and looked away from them. Thinking it over, crouched behind the barred door, Tommy Fraser realized that he knew by instinct what most crooks had to learn by hard experiment. When this thing was settled, when they'd finished punishing him for perfectly innocent borrowings, he’d use that instinct to advantage. Lincoln Dorner, considerably less friendly than he had seemed three nights before, when he’d won thirty dollars of Tommy Fraser’s money in the weekly poker game, listened somberly to the history of the affair. “And you're three thousand short?” “Something like that.” “Got any of it left?’’ Dorner looked sidewise at his client. Fraser understood. “You got the last of it Saturday night, Linc.” Dorner bristled. ‘ Look here, if you think you can drag me into this ——”’ “Forget it. What would that get me? Only I guess you'll do what you can for me, won't you? I would if I were you, Linc.” Fraser let his voice droop a little. It struck him that he was handling Dorner rather well. Just that much of a hint would do better than a fat fee—and Dorner had a reputa- tion as a clever fixer. “I’m here, am I not?” Dorner scowled. “ And I haven't asked you to slip me any retainer, have I? But if you think I can square this you're kidding yourself. On your own story they've got you sewed up. And it’s the meanest surety company on earth too. They’ll see that I don’t get bail for you without a fight. And they'll push the case to the outside edge of the limit.” Fraser nodded. “I see all that. But suppose you offered them a plea right now—before I’m even indicted? Suppose you put it up to ’em that I’m sorry and ready to take my dose without a whine? How would that work? Think they’d be willing to go easy?” He seemed to stand away and listen to this new shrewd- ness, an impartial, approving auditor. Dorner’s scowl faded, relief in his worried eye. “That’s talking! 1 thought you’d want to scrap it out toa finish. Sure—if you’re game to face the music we can shave it down a lot. Leave it tome! And take it from me you're wise too. Why, with that layout there isn’t a kid on the D. A.’s staff who couldn’t nail you! The way you worked Simpson into putting in your own system makes it a clean case of premeditation. We'd never get an inch away from it.”” He got to his feet, brisk again. ‘I'll see the surety counsel and get him to help fix the D. A. Murdock’ll do what they want. Saves him work. And about bail 1 “Never mind any bail. I guess I might as well get used toit now. And I’m getting free board in here. Let it go at that. And hurry it up all you can. If I’m on the inside looking out I'd like to have the time count — you know.” He watched Dorner go, sourly amused at the man’s relief. Dorner was afraid somebody might think he’d been too friendly with Tom Fraser; afraid somebody might whisper that Dorner himself wasn’t exactly on the square. From his new position Fraser was able to see the compen sation of being definitely classed as a criminal. You needn't ever worry again what anybody thought about you 4 }

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And instantly he remembered Ann Whittaker’s stabbing eyes and the triumph in them, and wondered what lay behind that revealing look. He'd never done anything to justify her in that sort of hatred; he’d made rather a point of being decent to her, in fact. He recalled a succession of trivial courtesies on his part, of rebuffs on hers. That had in that other life with which he was that snubbing Tom Fraser, who had ible to suit himself in the matter of The thought brought a shadow. There quite a lot of busy little explainers by the time the evening papers carried the news. He had no illusions They had liked him when he was free and in lisgraced. They would be careful to forget amused him, bacl finished—a girl like pretty We ll feminine approval would be be en about this. funds and unc him now that Some of er would be sorry, of course. They weren’t all just pretending. But they wouldn’t say so, and Fraser them. No nice girl can afford to be known as a friend of a a jailed crook. But Ann Whittaker—he could see her almost as if she were present in the flesh, and the vision of her puzzled Thin and cold and—he groped for the right word to idn’t blame rook him describe the dominant quality—sharp, that was it. She looked as if she’d cut if you touched her. Edges. That thin-bridged nose and the tight line of the lips. Never Funny how she’d always tried to be pleasant. And she was glad he’d been caught. Why? He tried to remember some possible cause for the hate which would as she had looked at him when he passed. She must be just naturally etting herself go fora second. frozen him when he make her lool There wasn’t any sense in it. soured on men a poor bed and the air was bad. He lying awake, found a queer comfort in the riddle of that parting look. It gave him something to think about He continued to think about it. He was still thinking when he three-year sentence— Dorner had been unduly optimistic in his estimates of judicial leniency to penitent and self-accusing embezzlers—and as the dullness of the prison settled upon him he came to be glad that was interested enough in Tom Fraser to take Next to having a friend, a good had no friends. Not even a letter came to 1 and choked in the gray wet caves, instead of head, to whisper with The plank made slept very little, and, began his somebody pleasure in his disaster enemy. And he him while he bleachec learned to motionless lip, to shuffle walk, to hate the thing move eyes instead of scheme of which had made honest, cheerful, friendly Tom Fra ser into a sullen thief The two ideas grew upon him to- gether—Ann Whit taker’s mystifying hatred and the set- tled acceptance of a status thrust forcibly upon him by the law and the surety and Old Simpson, yammering as if he’dlost the money himself, as if every of the short- age hadn't been re- paid by the bonding compar cent concern! Ton Fraser had been honest. That was tormentingly self- evident after months of surly meditations in the stone grave they calledacell. Ifhe’d been a thief in in- tent he’d have taken enough to make it worth while. Only an honest man would nave stopped at the few he’d Again and again he came back to He’d been square. They’d called him a thief, marked the word on him, compelled him to be one. hundreds borrowed this. ete He Stopped Her as She Turned. en ere He knew that they’d continue to compel him. When they let him go the affair wouldn't be closed. They’d watch him, follow him about, warning everybody who might befriend him that he was a convict, crowding him back to crookedness or starvation or suicide. He had absorbed an unshakable belief in the relentless persecution of the police which was not weakened by the irritating evidence that his case had no interest for the men who jailed him, the keepers who guarded him, that these knew him only as a number among eighteen hundred other numbers. There was no chance for a convict to start over again and make good. All right. Let ’em have it their way. They’d get the worst of it. They’d never catch him again, and some- body’d pay high for his liberty too. He could think of a hundred good schemes—safe, sure money getters. When he got out —— And when he wasn’t pitying himself and planning his future he generally thought about Ann Whittaker. What had he ever done to make her glad that he’d been branded thief? Why? Some day he’d hunt her up and ask her outright; make her tell. What was a woman like that doing with emotions, anyway? She was as cold-blooded as a weasel, he told himself. And yet she’d watched him led out in handcuffs with a glow in her, a blaze as sudden and startling as the re- surgence of red coals when a gust whipped away the gray ashes that had hidden them. There was something almost pleasant in the assurance that she hated him like this. The others had forgotten him by now. They’d try to do it—choke any random memory of Tom Fraser that might flicker into their minds. But Ann Whittaker would remember. You might forget con- genial friends without trying if you lost sight of them for a while; but people who hated like that didn’t forget the men they hated—ever. She came to stand in his mind as a barrier between the old Tom Fraser and oblivion, a link with the world which had done its best to cut him off. Her attitude soothed another ache too—the affronted vanity which resented the refusal of the world to watch him while it punished him. He felt that he had « right to attention, interest; and the failure of the courts and the prison to manifest anything resembling this seemed like a gratuitous added cruelty. “When They Were Jugging Me, Back There at Simpson's, You Looked Glad" THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 13 He was glad that one person was interested enough to be glad of his downfall, though the mystery of her hatred continued to puzzle him to the day of his release on parole. i CIENTIFIC humanitarianism reduced his sentence in mathematical proportion to what it termed good be- havior; it permitted his hair to grow during the month preceding his conditional discharge, and provided extra periods in the exercise yard to lessen the prison bleach. It furnished him, finally, with the clothes in which he had arrived and a ticket back to Beaufort. There was, besides, a tiresome moral lecture from the warden, to which he listened courteously and agreed without qualification He used the Beaufort ticket to carry him two stations away from the prison town. Here he dropped from the wrong side of the train and waited in a dingy cigar store across the square until another local pulled in, headed in the opposite direction. He boarded this without buying a ticket and paid his fare to New York out of the ten dollars the warden had given him. He had settled this in his mind long ago, down to the detail of the method. New York offered a criminal a hundred opportunities for every one he might find in a little city; it held out an even greater advantage in the matter of safety. But from the moment he left the prison station he wa unpleasantly conscious of surveillance, tempted to look over his shoulder, to break into a run. He knew that this was illusion and fought it stubbornly. No one had fol lowed him. He was perfectly sure of it. He must get over the idea; it would help to make him feel himself. He carried out his preconceived plan carefully, He was sitting at a desk in the writing room of the newest and biggest hotel in the city, pretending to write a letter while he kept a shrewd eye on the registry desk, when the sense of being watched became too strong for him. He turned very slowly and looked into Ann Whittaker'’s level, chilling eyes. For a moment he sat breathless and cold under the shock of it, rebelling helplessly against the freak of chance which had brought him, here in a city of millions, face to face with the one person who would take pleasure in making The girl studied him, the old hint of of her thin tight lips. She seemed to wait for him to speak, but uncertain of more trouble for him contempt visible at the corner ro, j bi ia al i “e oF & Rie 4 y when he remained stubbornly she whipped a sin gle word at him He could almost feel the cutting edge of it. “Well?” He rom Loa poor silent pretense of uncon cern, “ Hello, Mis Whittaker. Thi world’s getting too blamed small for any use, isn’t it? What you doing here?” “Waitingtohear what you're duing We'll go up in the mezzanine. It quite private there.”’ She seemed sure of him. Without watching to see that he followed, she walked across the marbie lobby to a curving stair between He noticed that thinnerand sharper than ever; he ob served that she elevator cages now she wa wore neat but ur impressive clothe and hat—the ser sible, serviceable garments of a worker. He even noted the fact that the stout shoes had been resoled and that a slight tear in the serge skirt had (Continued on Page 127) ry -_"* ty _— been darned

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i4 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST , ALVARO OB TARY LEADE. EGON: By Dr. E. J. Diilllom November 20,1920 MAY seem incredible to [ever that the movement which drew Obregén from the tranquillity of his home and the joys of a pure family life n Sonora to the hardships and langers of civil war in the sierras ind deserts of the republic was the embodiment of principles rather than of interests. Yet this is a demonstrable fact. But it was such a startling innova tion, and ran so counter to the general trend of things Mexican, that fore igners who judge men by labels and in groups are still unable to realize it. For many years previously Mexican politics had lacked an ideal The Diaz government, having made a splendid begin ng toppe d suddenly short Despite its undoubted asset of material progress whi h, how ever, reposed upon the frailest of foundations —-it was living from hand to mouth, allowing sleep ing dogs to lie and hypnotizing r killing off those that ventured to bark It no longer stood for any ocial conception It pursued but one ideal—that of dispen ing with ideals The members of the administration—many of them honest, well-meaning, polished but shortsighted men were gifted with too much intelligence for the task they had set themselves and too little for that which was be- coming daily more urgent. In the spirit that moved them there was naught that could be termed constructive. It was impatient of every new tendency which had rendered human society progressive. It made no effort or pr@ense to think, act or feel in rhythm with the pulse beats of the contemporary world. In truth the government was less a viable organism than a huge mechanism for the perpetua- tion of the actual régime and the maintenance of such meager social forces as were deemed innocuous and had received official recognition, to the exclusion of all others In short, it had become a process of decorous petrifaction. Mexico Under the Diaz Regime | N THESE conditions the bulk of the people were hardly better off than under the Spanish domination. Indeed ome sections were more miserable still, and they had no redress Those who openly showed signs of disaffection, ind many who were only neighbors of the discontented, were promptly silenced, sometimes executed and some times condemned to hard labor in what was considered to be the deadliest climate in the republic. A revolution from above was excluded from the program of the oligarchs, the slender base of whose scheme of government was the maintenance of Mexico's credit abroad and of outward tranquillity at home. Those were the principal needs of the ountry at one time, but that epoch had gone by, pressing forward other problems. The relations between master and servant, between the government and the governed ind between the various heterogeneous ethnic elements of the population were never visualized as practical ques- tions, but rather as skeletons in the cupboard to be kept hidden out of sight. Thus time, with its alternations of life and death, its silent burial of cherished hopes and the emergence of new aspirations, passed by the peoples of Mexico, bringing them no new birth. The dictatorship had indeed become an oligarchy, but this change of mas- ters produced no surcease of misery among the population; and it was left to the partisans of the régime who had crushed out all legal opposition to sap the foundations of the fabric which they themselves had so laboriously built up. This, however, they duly accomplished. A gifted North American observer published his im- pressions of these conditions as follows: “There is not a Sfanish-American state which has proved its capacity for self-government as yet. It is a fair question whether any one of them would have been worse off than it is to-day if Spanish rule had been maintained in it. The chief exception is Mexico, but Mexico has been Girts of Tehuantepec. Above -- Ancient Maya Arch Among the Ruins of Uxmal, Yucatan for ten or fifteen years under a dictator, and the republican forms have been in abeyance. What will happen there when the dictator dies nobody knows.” Vague discontent was rife among the masses and con- centrated hatred among the few intellectuals and politi- cians whose impulsive temperament, wild idealism and recklessness constituted the most formidable danger con- fronting the ruling class. Francisco Madero became the incarnation of these manifestations, after having risked his life in an attempt to focus, control and direct the rebellious elements in the country. Fallen into the clutches of the authorities and escaped to the frontier, he became the center of a nucleus of resolute men who took up arms against the dictator and the régime, and headed the revolu- tion which culminated in the overthrow of the government. From that movement Obregén, who, like many other intelligent Mexicans, evinced a keen and sympathetic in- terest in its suecess, held almost entirely aloof. He wished it well, lauded its champions and advocated its principles, but that was all. He was reluc- tant to fight for it. For by this time he possessed some land, on which he was successfully culti- vating chick-peas, a house in which he lived with his two children and their aunts —his first wife having died some time before—and he was bending all his energies to the maintenance of his sisters and the rearing of his offspring. This attitude of his toward the revolution is outlined by himself with that frankness which is one of his most attractive qualities, as fol- lows: “The Maderist, or antireélec- tionist, party was split into two sections: One composed of men responsive to the call of duty, who left their homes and severed every tie of family and of inter- est to shoulder a rifle, a shotgun or any other weapon they could lay their hands on; and the other of men who hearkened to the call of fear, who found no arms, who had children who would become orphans if their fathers should fall in combat and who were bound by a thousand other ties which even duty cannot suppress when the specter of fear grips the hearts of men. “It was to the second of these classes that I unfortu- nately belonged.” ‘ The sense of his obligations to the narrow circle of his family was stronger than that of duty to the wider com- munity. The revolution against Diaz triumphed therefore with- out Obregén’s active help, and this circumstance left him long remorseful. He felt guilty of gross remissness, and when two months later he was elected by his fellow citizens to the mayoralty of Huatabampo, this mark of esteem from the people in whose midst he had grown up and who were thoroughly conversant with his qualities and defects, seemed to carry with it a rebuke to his egotism as well as a tribute to his political creed. “It did not,” he writes, “reconcile me to my conscience, which continually whispered: ‘In the work of emancipa- tion you failed to do your duty as a citizen.’”’ Chief of the Rich Battalion S' JON afterward one of the emancipators, Pascual Orozco, rose in rebellion against Madero, inflicted a severe defeat on the troops sent against him in Chihuahua and shook the belief of many in the stability of the new order of things. Thereupon the governor of Sonora called upon the mayors of the state to assist in the enlistment of volunteers to put down the revolt. In this summons Obreg6n seemed to hear the voicé of duty calling out, ‘Here is your oppor- tunity to set yourself right.”” He accordingly offered his services to the governor, und within a fortnight had about threé hundred men, mostly inhabitants of the place, ready to march to the inhospitable desert, where a large section of the army had just perished of thirst. Obregén’s troops were nicknamed the Rich Battalion, owing to the number of relatively well-to-do young men—agriculturists like himself—who composed it. He was unanimously recog- nized as their chief, taking unofficial rank as lieutenant colonel. During this first campaign, which was fought to a successful issue within less than a year, he distinguished himself so signally that his commander in chief, Victoriano Huerta, who was shortly afterward to play such an un- enviable part in the history of his country, on receiving him exclaimed: “Let us hope that this chief may become the promise of our fatherland.” That campaign was fraught with hardships and dan- gers which by comparison with the life of ease and security he had enjoyed in Huatabampo surpassed those which confronted him later on when he was inured to privation and hardened to physical suffering. As a private citizen he was an inveterate smoker of cigarettes. In the sierras there were seldom any to be had. Occasionally a soldier | i.e.

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‘ ' THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 15 would smuggle in a few, together with a bottle of whisky, from the United States, and would sell a puff for five, ten or twenty cents, receiving several dollars for the whole cigarette. The food, too, though not ex- actly scarce, was far from varied, beef and flour being the staple foodstuffs on which the army lived. Ob- reg6n felt painfully at first the absence of cigarettes, but he promptly took the resolution never to indulge habitually in the habit of smoking again kept it ever since. Now and and he has again he smokes a cigar, but he never feels the need of one, nor does he ever touch a cigarette This detail, trivial in itself, is wortl only as a typical instance of his complete command rect yrdir g ~-_ =o * —_ * 2 > e fant misruled the country with a rod of iron and demoralized the people irremediably His policy abroad, coupled withenforced peace at home, might indeed have suited some foreign investors and domestic reactionaries, but even they had no guaranty that the dubious advantages which they looked for would be lasting. He treated the country as his footstool and the people as his instru- ments Freedom from the restraints of law and exemp- tion from punishment for crime were his personal priv ilege. Inan advanced state of society such an individ- ual would be classed as a dangerous criminal and dealt with accordingly. Mr. Wilson’s detestation of the man was as well ms grounded as the acts inspir- Ss te, we ng it by which Huerta -_ * dd ' overstepped the hmits of over his appetites. It was — during the same campaign that he acquired the useful habit, which he still retains, of being able to sleep at any hour of the day and practically in any posture. When this first campaign was over Obreg6én returned to his home in Huatabampo, hoping to spend the rest of his days in peaceful pursuits. He arrived on the anniversary of his patron saint. In Mexico one’s saint’s day is cele- brated with much greater solemnity than one’s birthday. General Obregon | Fourth A Patriot's Farewell to His Son IS sisters, his children and many of his neighbors had made extensive preparations to welcome him back; but hardly had he been an hour in the house when an urgent telegram summoned him to Hermosillo, the capital of the state. Without hesitation he forthwith mounted his horse, and before reaching the state capital he learned that President Madero had been arrested by Vic- toriano Huerta, and that the achievements of the revolu- tion were about to be nullified by the usurper. Thereupon he summoned his men and hurried off on a campaign which was to last for years and take him thousands of miles over sandy deserts and sultry plains, exposed to hardships unknown in European warfare. On this occasion there was no internal struggle between family obligations and duty to the larger community. Obreg6n started off unhesitat- From the Left, First Row), Doctor Dillion, General Saenz and Others Near the Uxmal Ruins moral upport country, your sister and the three women who have been mothers to you form a sodality which shall be ever sacred to you. To them you shall dedicate your life. Embrace Mary, Cenobia and Rose, and receive yourself, together with my dear Quiquita, the heart of your father. Huerta’s treachery and the prospect of its obvious con- sequences roused bitter resentment in the hearts of the few who were inspired by principle, and found approval and aid among the many who were actuated by self-interest. For Obreg6n therefore to take up arms against the man who had so recently eulogized him was to enlist in a cause that relied upon a powerful backing and to breast a bloody flood which might at any moment engulf himself and his comrades The two figures of Madero and Huerta have often evoked sympathy or disgust among foreigners upon grounds that are at variance with historical facts; and in the United States one is frequently confronted with the opinion that Huerta was the man whom President Wilson ought to have supported. I cannot share this view. Huerta was a highly shrewd desperado possessed by un- governable passions. It was only his untamable temper and freedom from all restraint that gave him the appear- ance of strength. He recognized no law, human or divine. Had he established his régime securely he would have were unjuUus- tifiable and dangerous Madero, on the other hand, was an honest, disinterested visionary whose principal merit | in his courage and initiative, coupled with the circumstance that his name had become a symbol and his voice a clarion to those who yearned for social reconstri ‘tandard of political-social values. Hence the enthusiasm he called forth throughout the country. But his influence was greater at the circumference than in the center. His head, figuratively speaking, was where his hould have been, and was filled wit! bodied theories weakened his will, with measures furthered. His well seem, in national calamity iction and a new heart sentimentality, while disem Ing compli ince which damaged the i1use he would have murder was a dastar crime, and might of the usurper who profited by it, a View The Personification of Victory Fj dao participation in the civil war landed Obreg6n ina domain wholly foreign to his habits of living and modes of thought, and subjected him to a set of new and searching tests which brought the hidden lines of his character into view and revealed him as a leader of men in the widest acceptation of the term. It is a remarkable fact that from the day on which he led his raw recruits from Huatabampo to the desert of Chihuahua suc- ingly, without paying even a fly ing visit to his family. But from Hermosillo he hurriedly scrib- bled a letter to his boy, whom I have often met, which is worth re- producing. My dear on: When you receive this letter I shall have begun my march, together with my battal- ion, to the north- ern frontier, in response to the voice of the fath- erland whose very entrails are being torn out at pres- ent. No good Mexican can hesi- tate to answer the call. Mysole regret is that your tender age does not allow you to accompany me. If fate should re- serve for me the glory of dying for this cause, bless your condition as an orphan, for with legitimate pride you ean call yourself the son of a patriot. Be cess crowned his every effort, until at last he came to be looked upon as the incarnate symbol of victory Among the offi- cers who fought on the popular ide were profes- ional soldiers like Felipe Angeles, who had attained eminence in Eu- rope and might therefore be ex pecte d to take prece dence of ar une ducated jarmer inexperi enced in the art of wal But some were pedant others were irreso- lute, a few were untrustworthy, and the best were good commander. of brigades but liable te collapse when caught in the clutches of adverse circum stance bre gon, on the other hand, was in his element as a di- rector of large bodies of men. ever the slave of duty. Let your ee sintiedaninens People of Paiszada, State of Campeche, Going to the Square to Hear General Obregon Address Them — ———_-— (Continued on Page 95

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directly on any subject, though I could often feel in my bones there were things he wanted to say Ihe fact was that he nearly got let down himself through betting, and only escaped being acked from Waterhouse on account of his perfectly stunning school record and the pretty spectacular nature of the bet he undertook Every Waterhouse boy knew Ralph Casement by reputation, and how in his last year he shinned up the chapel steeple and planted the Head’s opera hat on the weathercock. With a decent pair of ‘ glasses you can still see the old wires twisted [: WASN'T very often the guv’nor tackled me round the arrow with twenty years’ rust He was frightfully keen Ishould leave a decent impression at the school, and of all chaps in the world he was the one I most wanted to upon them please. His trust in me was one of the things I was proudest of and I did my best to keep it at full pressure “Pitch it high, Dennis,” he said ‘Your half-hearted fellows are no good to anyone. I'd rather hear you had tried to burn down the Western Hall’’—that was where the school days —‘“‘than get a report you were a breaker of minor rules—a mem- ber of silly smoking societies and gambling ciiques.”’ I never meant to let him down, and all said it was a stupid affair One of the chaps had a pack of cards and four of us started to play nap. Then a fellow named Preston planked down some coppers and suggested a half penny pool. I started to kick at that “No one expected you to play,” he said, and got a laugh against me “All right,” said |, and turning out my pockets; “but after we've finished I'm going to plug you in the eye.” “Better do it first,”’ he sneered, not believ- mustered on speech ing I meant what I'd said So I rushed him, and because I was a bit wild and he a bit rattled I planted a good ‘un where he kept his wind. He let go a mighty squawk as his breath ran out — a squawk which carried over the hedge and was heard by Brander, our house master. Next moment he had pushed through a gap and was with us. Preston was gasping on the ground alongside the spread rug with the cards and the cash upon it The two other chaps had legged it before Brander arrived It was a pretty rotten case for both of us and we knew it “Well, you fellows,” he said, “it’s out of my hands, you know.’ His mouth looked a bit queer and his lips twitched uncertainly. “I thought you were above this sort of thing, Casement.” And he turned away. It was Preston who called him back. “My stupid fault, sir,” he stammered, and told the tale as it had happened. I never thought Preston had that much decency in him, «” | couldn't do leas than sing out: “But 1] was going to play for money, sir ” Brander dug his stick into the ground without saying anything, ther: “The rules are clear enough. If you were in the Sixth you'd be sacked for this. As Lower Fifth boys you've earned the rod — publicly. If this is reported to the Head you know what to expect. If I don’t report it I shall be shirking a duty myself. I think I'll leave the choice in your hands. You can tell me what you decide after evening call-over.”” It was to Brander’s credit, not ours, that we told him we would take ovr gruel from the Head. Brander was a rip- ping chap—a nailer for duty—and it seemed a low-down thing to squeeze out by taking advantage of his offer. “Good,” he said, “that’s British! The thing’s finished, and you needn't be afraid I shall read you a sermon. Cer- tain things aren't worth while, that’s all I’ve got to say.” We went out of the study loving Brander—there’s no other word for it. I told the guv’nor all about it when I was back for the Easter vac. “I'm glad, very glad, you told me,” he said. “Gam- bling —oh, well, you know yourself how much good it is. ILLUSTRATED Br THE SATURDAY EVENING POST SILLY THING TO By Roland Pertwee FULLER ARTHUR D. I nearly got fired for it myself—and some- how, Dennis, I don't want you to get fired.” “Dad,” said I, “if you like I'll swear never to touch another ecard while I'm at Waterhouse.” “No,” he replied; “only if you like. I don’t want to exact any oaths.” “IT do like!” “Oh, fine!” said he. “We'll shake hands on that.”” And we did I can tell you it meant something when the guv’nor and I shook hands on a promise. He knew he could count on my word just as I could count on his. Our partnership was sound and pretty tremen- dous. You see, my mother died when I was born, ‘ so we only had each : other to look to. His m, was a pretty : lonely sort of life 4 and he was only 17 Ev thirty-six quite a young- ster really. I often used to wonder why he “I Want You to Meet Conrad's Daugh: didn’t marry ter, Dennis. I Think You'll Like Her. again. Isu p- 'T Any Rate, I'd Like You to Try" pose it hadn’t occurred tohim. The afternoon following our talk he took me over to Conrad’s house and talked rather queerly as we strolled across the fields. “T want you to meet Conrad's daughter, Dennis. I think you'll like her. "T any rate, I'd like you to try.”” He didn’t wait for my answer but went on: “I suppose, old son, I seem an elderly sort of chap to you.” “No fear,” I answered. “But I've got set in elderly molds and you're used to that. Think you could get used to me in any other way?” [I'm jolly certain I don't want you any different,” I said. And he laughed rather an awkward sort of laugh. We met Conrad and his daughter at the foot of their garden. She was absolutely stunning, for all the world like Mary Pickford, but with more fun at the corners of her November 20,1920 mouth. The guv’nor packed us off together to make friends—and I never had a jollier task than that. “You’re Dennis,”’ she said. “My name’s Ger- aldine, which is horrid—but Gerry’s all right, I think, don’t you?”’ “Topping,” I replied. “Then I'll make you a present of it, grin that showed her little white teeth. And I said “Gerry” as bold as brass. It’s jolly fine to get to Christian names inside ten min- utes, especially with the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. It never occurred to me before that I was a susceptible sort of chap, but I don’t mind owning that Gerry took my wickets at the first over. She had such a topping irresponsi- ble way of talking—here, there and everywhere. It almost took one’s breath away. I voted the guv’nor a jolly good sort for giving me the introduction. “How old are you?” she asked. I told her fifteen, and put the same question. “ Add ten,” she said. “Oh, rot!” I said. “ You're only a kid.” “Twenty-five,” she replied. “I hope you don’t mind.” But I did mind, and I suppose I showed it. “*T any rate.” I said, “we can be friends just the same. After all, what’s ten years?” “That's just what I said to myself one glorious night three weeks ago, when Ralph came to dinner with us.” It seemed funny to hear the guv’nor called Ralph. “D’you mind my calling him Ralph?” she asked. “Not a bit. It'll make him feel young. You know,” I added, “he’s not a bit old really.” “*Course he isn’t,”’ she laughed. “Those are my ponies over there. Let’s try and catch them.” We had a tremendous spree doing the bareback-bronco act, and after we’d subdued the fiery mustangs we raced off to where the guv’nor and Mr. Conrad were sitting, to report progress. The guv’nor got up to greet us. “You seem to be getting on all right,”’ he said. “Beautifully,” Gerry answered. “I love Dennis don’t 1?” she appealed to me. I must say I thought it was rather stupid of her to say that, for it makes a fellow look a bit of an ass to have that kind of confession made to his own father. All the same I couldn’t help being pleased, and the guv’nor seemed pleased too, and slipped a friendly arm through mine. I saw a lot of Gerry during the next few days, but never enough, for the more I saw the better I liked. I had never felt much interest in girls before. The few I had known I had liked well enough, but not in the same way. It sounds fearful tosh, but I actually dreamed about her. You know the gallant rescue and hair- breadth escape sort of dream, with a post chaise to Gretna Green at the end of it! Made me positively awkward to meet her next day, for my worst enemy couldn’t accuse me of being a spring-poet sort of chap. But the fact is I went to bed thinking about her, and woke up doing the same thing, and even the guv'nor noticed that I left half my porridge at brekker and only scoffed one egg instead of two. You may laugh, but all that sort of thing goes to show. *Course I never meant to say a word, and to this day I don't know how I came to be such a fool. It just happened, as these things will, while she and I were walking up and down on the terrace one night after dinner. I was going back to school next day and that may have brought it on. We were talking about the guv’nor and I said I was so jolly glad she and he were such good pals. I said, too, what a frightfully straight chap he was. “T know,” she answered. “It almost frightens me some- times.” “Oh, rot!” I said. “It does, for I car’t help thinking he would never understand anyone who was less well principled than himself.”’ “He’s got a jolly high standard,” I replied, “and he'd be frightfully hurt if one did anything shabby.” “That's what I mean.” “But you never would.” “I don’t know. I'ma bit of a pickle really. Always get- ting in and out of scrapes. Ask my father.” “I'd rather make up my own mind,” said I. “And have you?” “Te.” “Tell me what it is.’ I hesitated. “Tt’s this,” I said. “I like you—most awfully.” “ And do you think you could bear the idea of my being here for good?”’ It fairly took my breath away. “Oh, Gerry!” I gasped. “I could—I could! That’s what I’ve been dying to say for ages, but I hadn’t the pluck. So I sent you those daffs instead.” she said, with a

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She stopped and looked at me, her eyebrows raised and disappearing under the loop of hair upon her forehead. “To say what?” “T love you.” “Dennis, you mustn’t do that—no. I thought you | . Knew “T only know I love you enormously,” I repeated. ss that I’m going to marry your father,” she went on. Once when I was a kid I fell from a hayloft, but the jolt I had on landing was nothing compared to what I felt that moment. Every part of me seemed to stop like a dropped clock, and I could only gape at her while a shameful desire to blub got hold of me by the throat. “I thought you’d guessed that. Oh, you poor darling, you mustn’t look so miserable. I wanted you to be glad.” And then it came over me that she was ten years older than I was, and that lots of girls would have laughed at me—couldn’t have helped themselves. But she didn’t laugh, and because of that I knew what a little trump she was—what an absolute first-rater. So I took a grip on myself and managed to say: “I’m jolly glad, Gerry, that you've chosen the better man.” The least flicker of a smile came and went at the corners of her mouth, then she put an arm round my waist. “Tt would be a good plan if you kissed me and wished me luck, wouldn’t it?”’ I did, and we sat side by side on a carved stone bench. “You won’t tell the guv’nor,”’ I said after a long silence. She shook her head. “No, it shall be a secret for all time, “rn ’ "she answered. Thank you, Gerry,” said I. “I shall always remember that, and if ever there’s the least or greatest service I can render—you'll ask me, won’t you?—so that I can repay.” “But what is it you want to repay?”’ she asked. “You might have laughed at me,”’ I explained. “One doesn’t laugh at things one’s proudest of,’’ she said. I gave her hand a mighty squeeze. “Oh, bless you,”’ I said, and went indoors to tell the guv’nor what a lucky chap he was. They were married during the summer term. I came up for the wedding and I must say old Conrad fixed every- thing in tophole style. It went with a whiz and all I seem to remember is the laughter, the ices and the guv’nor, who “I Say, Gerry, What's Up?" I Demanded. looked like a boy, with Gerry, pink and smiling, upon his arm. They went to Switzerland for their honeymoon, and I returned to school with a fiver in my pocket and a silly sort of lump in my throat. We spent the summer vac. together, and without exception it was the finest time I ever had in my life. I never knew a real mother, but I voted if Gerry was a sample of the step variety there wasn’t much to kick at. It was great, too, the way she made the guv'nor open out. He behaved like a two-year-old. His old seriousness was clean gone--swamped out by her high spirits and fun To watch him helping her with the household books was as good as a play, for she could no more add nine and seven than fly, and was just as pleased with one result as another. But between them they laughed some sort of method into the enterprise. It would have been a lesson in patience to our mathematics master at Waterhouse. It was toward the end of the holidays the guv’nor re- ceived some correspondence that seemed to sober him down a bit. He said nothing to me, but I could see that everything wasn’t quite right. He cut out some of our picnics and spent a fair amount of time writing letters and sending wires. Also he tackled me on the subject of trying for a scholarship. I told him I'd never thought of it and he replied in an offhand way: “Still, you ought to have a pretty sound chance. Why not have a go at the Aitchin Schol.?” “Tt’s over my head, guv’nor.” “Don’t you believe it,”” he said. “Try your luck, and if you pull it off I might slip you a motor bike for Christmas.” That was something like an offer and I made a few very hearty resolves with myself. At the time it didn’t strike me as unusual that he should have to go abroad for a couple of months. He had consid- erable interests in some Balkan oil fields and often spent a few weeks there during the autumn. So that Gerry shouldn’t be dull while he was away he took a furnished flat for her in town. “It’s bad luck coming this year, but I shall have to see to things,” he said. I took the bad luck to mean leaving Gerry so soon after they were married. “While you're away I shall knuckle to and make a for- tune,”’ she replied. ‘ THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 17 “Heavens,” said the guv'nor half comically, “I shall never be able to afford that.” For some reason Gerry colored up. “Don’t you be so sure,” she said. “You don’t know what I can do. I'm a mascot, p’raps, and shall bring you luck.” “You've done that,”’ said he, and pinched the end « her nose { I fairly got down to it at school that term—got my remove to the Sixth, and to my own amazement carried off the scholarship with a pretty decent margin. | don't want to boast, but I fancy the other entrants must have been well below the average. "T any rate the Head made a flattering speech and I felt all sorts of a fool standing on the platform while the school cheered as though I were a hero returned from the wars. Fearful rot it was, and I was jolly glad to duck out of the little door beside the organ and make a dash across the Close with half the schaol yoicking and tallyhoing at my heels. However, it was something to be bucked about, I sup pose, and I was pretty full of myself when I turned up at Euston a day or two before Christmas with the prospect of the guv'nor returning from the Near East, of Gerry or the spot, and a brand-new motor bike thrown in. Between the three I reckoned to have a pretty gay old Christma I was rather surprised that Gerry wasn’t at the station to meet me, and more surprised still when I nipped int« the flat to find her in the drawing-room looking white and serious. “Good heavens, you do look rotten!"’ I cried She grinned, but it wasn’t one of her real kind “I'm all right,” she answered “You aren't, or you'd have been at the station to meet me. Look here, stick on your hat and I'll take you out to lunch. I've heaps of boodle.” “Lucky you!” she answered. “Wish I could say the same. But lunch is ordered here.” “Oh, that'll keep.” She tipped up the end of her nose with a forefinger, but not very convincingly “IT don't think I want to go out,” she said “Then we'll have a merry old lunch at home,” I said, and flopped down on the sofa by her side e Continued on Page 154) “You Keep Saying Things I Don't Get the Hang Of"

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RAAVINN relate in this chapter in the first days tention to l! WAS my u ome of my of the revolutior persor al ¢ x perience and not being in possession of any diaries or notes, as we had left behind every- thing except wear ng apparel in our flight from that combination of prison and mad house y cleped oviet Russia, I resorted to the files of the New York Times in order to refresh my memory as to the dates of some event The first mention of the revolution I found in the issue of that paper of March 15, 1917, in the shape of a series of cablegrams, most of them dated from London, some of the same date and some of the day before, the revolution having taken place on the twelfth The very headlines printed on the first page of the New York Times, on top of the first column of a long series of cable grams, the fatal the real meaning of the Russian re show misconception of volu tion which prevailed among the represent well atives at Petrograd of the press, a as of the diplomacy of Allied countries They ran as follow LONDON HAILS REVOLUTION Eexpecrep ('zar's OverrHRow AND Sees BRIGHTER Prospects ror THe ALLE PHINK THE COUP DECISIVE WeL.-INrormep Onservers BeLreve THe Pare mic Wak Party Has Mabe tte ContTROL Securt PEAR NO SEPARATE PEACI Wirth Weak Rover Derosep AND PRO-GERMAN Apvisers Ovsrep THey Prepict New Vicrori On the second page I found another eablegram from London, dated March fifteenth, under the caption COMMONS TOLD OF ABDICATION Revowetion Dur To Russian Purpose TO Ficut Wark Ov, Says Bonar Law In the text of the cablegram giving an extract from Mr. Bonar Law’s speech in the House of Commons, he is made to aay: “ There is some comfort for us in the comparative tranquillity with which the change was conducted. Here is also real comfort that all the government's infor- mation shows that the movement was not in any sense directed toward an effort to ecure peace by Russia. On the contrary, the discontent was not against the gov- ernment for carrying on the war, but for not carrying it on with that efficiency and energy which the people had expected.” That such a fundamentally erroneous idea of the causes and effect of the revolu- tion should have been held at first in Allied is THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Forty Years of a Diplo By BARON ROSEN Former Ambassador From Russia to the United States November 20,1920 at’s Life government falls, you will see absolute chaos in Russia, and it will be many a long year before you see another government able to control the mixture that makes up the Russian nation.” I shall not attempt to give here a de- scription of the sensational events of the @! first days of the revolution. That has been done with far greater fullness and accuracy than I could command by the very able and distinguished correspond- ent of the London Times at Petrograd, Mr. Robert Wilton, in his interesting book, Russia’s Agony. But no one who has not lived through a revolution in his own country can possibly realize the tragic meaning of the sinking of the heart one experiences in feeling that, so to speak, the bottom has suddenly dropped out of everything. Nor can I attempt to convey in feeble words an impression of such an experience which I should not wish my worst enemy to have to go through. But I may relate some episodes from my personal adventures in those days which will serve to illustrate the chaotic conditions brought about at ones by the overthrow of the imperial govern- ment It was the third day of the revolution March 14, 1917. I was at luncheon with my fellow lodgers in one of the erstwhile Imperial Yacht Club’s bedrooms reserved for the use of members, where I had my bachelor quarters when separated from my family. These bedrooms, five in num- ber, were situated in a wing of the club- house on the second floor, opening on a corridor, and the windows overlooking the courtyard. The clubrooms on the first floor were closed because of the dis- order and frequent firing in the street, so that we were having our meals in one of our bedrooms. My four companions were all military men—three generals and a captain of a guard regiment—all men of social prominence; a former governor- general of one of our outlying dominions; a division commander; a near relative of one of our Allied sovereigns; and a member of one of the leading families of the Polish nobility— but all of them innocent of any connection whatever with politics of any kind. We had just finished our meal, and I had returned to my room, when our apartment was invaded by a noisy crowd of some twenty soldiers and sailors armed with bayonets and pistols, who declared with shouts and threats that they had come to arrest the generals and to take them to the Duma. I had left the door of my room open on purpose to avoid the appearance of trying countries is perhaps not to be wondered at ——— The wish is father to the thought; and the Allied diplomacy and the representatives of the Allied Powers at Petrograd were handicapped in their task of forming a correct judgment on Russian affairs, on one hand by their ignorance of the Russian language and their noncomprehension of the men- tality and of the true sentiments and aspirations of the Russian people, and on the other hand by their habit of relying for their enlightenment mainly, if not exclusively, on such information as would reach them through their particular friends and adherents among the Duma leaders and their following; in other words, on one-sided informa- tion derived from political circles which, though either prejudiced or deluded themselves, were being mistaken for the only authoritative exponents of the nation’s feelings and wishes. This, however, is a subject which I shall have to revert to later in attempting to analyze the causes of the prolonged prevalence of a not only totally erroneous but also surprisingly shallow view of perhaps the most tragic and in its remote possibilities perhaps the most sinis- ter event in the whole history of civilization. But there was one feature in the outbreak of the Russian revolution which, one would think, should have opened the eyes of even the most superficial observer of the event to the fact that the revolution meant, not the advent of an improved or even simply a new form of government but nothing more or less than the advent of anarchy, at first in a comparatively mild form, but which from week to week — nay, from day to day accentuated, and that therefore all expectations based on sometimes was bound to become more 4 UNOERW ne Tempte of Our Saviour, Moscow the overthrow of the imperial government were necessarily doomed to disappointment. That feature was the leading part assuméd from the very first days of the revolution by a so-called Soviet of Workmen's and Soldiers’ Delegates, organized in haste by professional revolutidnists, which had established its head- quarters in the Taurida Palace and was holding its meet- ings in the hall of sittings of the Duma. Neither the provincial executive committee of the Duma nor the pro- visional government which it had been suffered to appoint with the consent of the soviet was ever for a moment any- thing but a government in name, the real power resting with the soviet, the only body whose authority was being fully acknowledged by the forces that had achieved the revolu- tion —the mutinoussoldiery and therevolutionary workmen. In this connection I cannot help quoting from an article I have just come across in one of the New York dailies the truly prophetic words uttered by the late Count Witte in a conversation with the distinguished author of that article at a dinner given in honor of the Russian plenipotentiaries by Mr. Melville E. Stone, of The Associated Press, a few days after the conclusion of the Treaty of Portsmouth. “ The world should be surprised,” Count Witte is reported to have said, “that we have any government in Russia, not that we have an imperfect government. With many nationalities, many languages and a nation largely illiter- ate, the marvel is that the country can be held together even by autocracy. Remember one thing: If the Czar’s to hide. One of the soldiers looked into my room, but seeing that I was a civilian he withdrew. After some noisy altercation my fellow lodg- ers put on their overcoats and were marched downstairs into the street, where a lorry was waiting to take them to the Duma. But an ugly mob had collected in front of the house and, hurling invectives at the “‘bloodsuckers,”’ in- sisted on their being marched off on foot. They reached the Taurida Palace after a march of some two or three miles through the snow and slush character- istic of Petrograd streets in early spring, all the while exposed to the insults and imprecations of the populace As good luck would have it, they met on the steps of the palace M. Gutchkoff, the Minister of War in the pro- visional government, who happened to be personally acquainted with one of them, and who not only had them liberated at once, but brought them back to the club in his automobile. I would mention here incidentally that, hav- ing deposited my friends at the door of the clubhouse, he continued on his way farther down the same street, where some desultory firing was going on, with the result that his aide-de-camp, young Prince W.., an officer of one of the guard regiments, was killed by his side by a stray bullet After my fellow lodgers had been carried off by the sol- diers who had come to arrest them I was left alone, our servant having disappeared, and fancied that the trouble had blown over as far as I was concerned. This illusion, however, was soon to be dispelled. Some eight or ten of the original band of soldiers, among whom seemed to be (Continued on Page 104

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EIS part of the landscape now— out there every H Saturday night, haranguing the crowd round the soldiers’ monument, with a bronze Civil War in- fantryman standing guard over his head to assure him a hearing or his constitutional rights or something. We catch fragments of his oratory—‘‘the working classes,” “toilers of America,” “the power of the pee-pul,” “who all the wealth?” “who owns that skyscraper?” The policeman does not even glance at the familiar nut, though he casts a professionally interested eye over his little group of listeners. There are one or two husky young vage slaves from the implement works in their silk shirts, several foreigners and decent middle-aged mechanics, a negro of popeyed-parson cut and a few small boys. Prosperous American families whizzing homeward in automobiles give him a glance of amused tolerance. A newspaper reporter, a schoolma’am, a sales manager and a clergyman, each pauses ten seconds to sample the oratory dutifully, as serious thinkers, recognizing their responsi- bilities toward the thought of the day, ready to hear all sides of every question fairly. One clean-cut young fellow with Uncle Sam’s military drill showing in his set-up takes a more active interest. | “The best thing for these trouble makers is a punch in the jaw!” he declares. “Aw, come on!” laugh his two soldierly companions, and drag him away. produc eS The Effects of Slow Poisoning IKE street loiterers the world over, most of the soap- box orator’s auditors have stopped chiefly to rest. Harmless? A good many comfortable citizens think so, and willingly let him blow off steam. There is a vague popular belief that if you shut him up or head him off there will be an explosion somewhere. Others go to extremes in their belief that he is dangerous, and so radicals have been trailed, raided, deported and their publications, red flags and meetings suppressed. The soap-box orator doesn’t usually preach straight Bol- icali He calls attention to shortcomings hevism or syndicalism. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST When Soa@ JD TELLING THE RADICAL ORATOR’S CROWD THE OTHER SIDE By James HH. Collins in the world as we know it, and appeals to our idealism, asking us to make the world better; and his small, shifting audience suggests sweeping back the sea with a broom But the soap-box orator is dangerous through his per- sistence and because nobody takes the trouble to answer him from another soap box; likewise in the persistent propaganda organization behind him The burden of his sermon is always discontent tent—discontent. The mechanic on his way home Satur- day night stops to listen. He could not be easily won over to a revolutionary program. But it would be strange if he had no grievances. Everybody has grievances. The cap- italist is dissatisfied with government interference, the professional man with his income tax, the town drunkard with prohibition. Easily demonstrating that something is wrong by practical illustrations drawn from wages, rents, grocery bills and other matters of everyday experience, the soap-box orator raises the suspicion that everything is wrong. This poison, administered in homeopathic doses with regularity, year after year, leads people to think in terms of dissatisfaction and hatred. Some day the stored-up inhibitions may be exploded. A police reporter went to a trolley-strike meeting one night with an astute radical leader. They found a husky orator on the platform. “Down with the street-car company !”’ he was shouting. “The workers demand their rights!’’ The crowd cheered these sentiments to a man. “Stop that fellow!" directed the newly arrived leader. “Take him off the platform! I'll talk to this crowd my- self!’’ Then to the reporter: ‘‘ He was wasting their steam. Now I’ll show you how to talk to a mob.” He mounted the platform and began to talk quietly to that crowd about its grievances and wrongs. There were no gestures. His tone was conversational, and people had to strain forward to listen. He gave the crowd absolutely discon- 19 no opportunity to cheer or blow off steam. Its part was strictly to listen. Full of its wrongs, and seeking an outlet when the meeting broke up, it was no longer a crowd but a mob, and went out and destroyed several hundred feet of street-car track. Soap-box oratory works in much the same way, and in the very quietness of its methods lies the danger. Besides the actual soap-box speaker there is a tireless soap-box press. The two hundred and forty socialist and radical periodicals in the United States— daily newspapers, weeklies and monthlies—reach ten million readers weekly. On top of that, one hundred million radical pamphlets are distributed yearly in the United States. The Steady Gnawing of the Radicals VERY Sunday morning, with the newsboy and the milkman, five thousand volunteer distributors cover Milwaukee, slipping radical reading matter into every home This work has been going on for years. It is an illustration of the volume and persistence of the radical movement Once every two years, for six or eight weeks before election, the Republicans, Democrats and business men of Mil- waukee try to counteract socialism and beat the socialists Why they do not succeed is easily explained when one understands the persistent penetration of radicalism Their brief effort is like the spurt of the hare. The radical tortoise often wins by eternal plodding. There are other American communities where the same penetration has gone far enough to-day to make radical election victories possible—and soon. Radicalism has an element of the mysterious to the average American who regards it as dangerous. It appar- ently travels like wildfire and cannot be stopped except by force. He doesn't understand how it works, how far it has gone, where to look for its results or how to overcome them. But actually, radicalism travels slowly. Its doc- trines have to be poured into normal people week by week, drop by drop. Its apparent quick spread to-day is simply (Continued on Page 146) 3 ete A Labor Leader Addressing a Meeting on Tower Hill, London

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as -”~ + ierenn O. “Rar Accidents, in Three-Quarters of an Hour I Shall be a Whiskertess Man and on My Way to London" « & N'TONY set the tray on a small gilded table jagged with floral ornament, and gazed through the window at the retiring figures of his inamorata—or rather, to be exact, one of his inamoratas and his variegated ‘ival—with a deep frown “She didn't know me! They call it love!"’ he said to himself in a tone of the coldest bitterness. Then the enormity of Mr. Bracket's attire smote him with a pang of mingled shame and horror. He ground his teeth and cried to himself: “After all the trouble I’ve taken with the fat-headed bounder!” Poppy's enmauved figure and the offending blazer dis- appeared behind a clump of deodars. Then the full enormity of Mr. Bracket’s behavior burst on Antony's mind “The mud-faced muckaroo has not only got Poppy removed from me—he's come after her himself!"’ he thought, and scowled blackly at the deodars. On the instant the large loan to be obtained from Mr. Bracket became definitely a heavy fine—ten thousand at the least He turned and met the full blast of the dazzling blue. He staggered, and muttered: “Heavens! Reckitt has done fell work here!" He did not know The Towers well. Lord Branksome had been firm in the matter of keeping his poor relations at a distance. Twice Antony had been firmer than he, and stayed a week with him. One of the principles which had guided his life was that he could stand no nonsense from Uncle Egbert. He could remember the charming, restful, Old World room Then the picture of the sheep smote his distressed eyes. It was such a blow that he looked this way and that for something to throw at it. The brass clock, which went three hundred and sixiy-five days on one winding, caught his eye. He stepped toward it with a clutching hand. A rustling behind him saved him. He turned to see Pansy coming through the window— Pansy dressed as a lady's maid, carrying a basket of flowers. He stared at her with THE SATURDAY EVENING POST unbelieving eyes. She looked at him, knew him and gasped “Why—why— it’s you!”’ she mur- mured, and a charming flush stained deli- cately her pale cheeks. The pleasing sight banished for the while from his vision the blasting blue. “Tt’s me all right,” he admitted. ‘But what are you doing here—dressed like that?” “Well, since you're actually in the house, it would be very diffi- cult to conceal from you the fact that I’m Poppy Briggs’ maid. So I'll ad- mit it,”’ she said, and smiled. “And I'm Mr. Briggs’ second footman,” he said in a rather dazed voice. “Well, this is a go!” “It is, rather,” she said, smiling again. Antony relaxed under that smile it set him glowing. She was plainly so glad to see him The horror of the blasting blue lifted for an instant from his spirit. “Why on earth didn’t you tell me that this was your job?” he said. ‘*‘Whatever would Little Tar- kington say if it heard I was a lady’s maid?” “I shouldn’t have ever dreamed of telling the silly little hole,” he said. “You might have let it slip.” “Not I! I’m discretion itself,’ he said firmly. “If there was one thing I should have thought you weren't, it’s discretion,”’ she said. “Oh, yes, | am,” he said firmly. Then in a joyous voice he added: “ But I say this is top hole. I shall be able to see something of you.” “Indeed you won't,” said Pansy coldly. “I only asso- ciate with the housekeeper, the butler and the chef, and have all my meals in the housekeeper’s room —such good meals.” “That's all right,”’ said Antony cheerfully. “I expect Anderson will attend to that. He likes my conversation. But if he doesn’t there are other occasions besides meals.” “There aren't. It would be most irregular. I should lose caste,’’ she protested. “Well, it can’t be helped. You’ll have to lose it,” said Antony firmly. “If you think I could be within ten miles of you and not see a lot of you you're wrong.” “Then you just won’t!” cried Pansy. ‘ You can attend strictly to business. I know you're down here on that disgusting matrimonial enterprise of yours!” “Well, | was stooping—in whiskers—to conquer. But now that I find you here, conquering’s off,”’ said Antony. “But that’s nonsense!"’ protested Pansy. “It isn’t!” cried Antony. “It is!’’ she cried. Then she said quietly: ‘‘Of course if you hadn’t your mother and Priscilla to keep we might jog along quietly here for a few years, saving our tips and wages; and then if we decided that we were really suited to one another we might invest our savings in a small public house and settle down.” She smiled at him, a cold and wicked smile. “You're the most cold-blooded little devil I ever came across!"’ cried Antony furiously. ‘‘A few years here and a few years there don’t matter a hang to you! I want you now!” For a breath her eyes were hungry on him. Then with a mocking smile she said: ‘‘That public house was only a pleasing dream. You're here to marry Poppy —and you're going to marry her.” By Edgar Jepson «n ILLUSTRATED November 20,1920 Antony ground his “And you'd find another place at once,”’ he said. “Of course I should,” said Pansy coolly. He took a few steps across the room, scowling. Then he said mournfully: ‘“‘To think that if our governors, after idiotically investing all they had in Honduras copper, had only had the sense to stick to the shares instead of selling out at the bottom of the market like the fine old English investors they were, the mater and Priscilla would have been comfortably off and you’d have been worth twenty thousand pounds, and we could have been married a year ago. What an intensive garden we might have had with twenty thousand pounds!” “You don’t mean to say those copper shares are worth anything!” said Pansy. ‘For the last five months they’ve been going ap and up, and now they’re worth a fiver apiece.” “‘B-b-but it’s astonishing! Why stopped short. “Why—what?” said Antony. “Poor dad! To think of all the worry the loss of that money gave him. Why, if it hadn’t been for that he’d be alive now!” said Pansy sorrowfully. “Yes, it was a wretched business. But it’s no good crying over spilled milk. The money's gone. But I say, don’t be so infernally hard-hearted. Let me see some- thing of you while I’m here.” “Certainly not. You stick to business,” said Pansy coldly “Why shouldn't | combine business with pleasure?” pleaded Antony. “And make love to both of us at once! I know you, Tony!” said Pansy with some heat. “Not in whiskers. These whiskers have had a great effect on my character; they've steadied it wonderfully. Besides, I tell you I’m not in love with Poppy yet. That comes after marriage. I told you it did,” said Antony. Mr. Briggs came bustling in through the window. An- derson had been shown the ground floor, and then excused himself from making a tour through the conservatories on the ground that he must go to see that everything was properly prepared for the visit of Lord and Lady Brank- some. Mr. Briggs stopped short and frowned darkly. “Now, now! I won’t have this!”’ he said sharply. “I pay you to work—not to gossip.””’ He turned to Antony and looked him over with the pleased air of the proprietor of a prize bullock. “I suppose you're the noo footman as Anderson was ter bring with ’im. Wot’s your name?” “Henry James Wilkinson, sir,” said Antony in a deep, rough, bass voice very different from the rich and agreeable tenor he ordinarily employed in conversation and in song. Mr. Briggs looked at him earnestly, and said: “I seem to know your face, me lad. Was you ever in Bootle?” “No, sir,” said Antony gruffly. ““My memory for faces isn’t wot it was. Well, you run along an’ git to yer work. There’sa couple of ’underdweight noo old silver come yistirday as wants polishin’. Git onto it now.” “Yes, sir,” said Antony, moving majestically toward the door. “I want two more of these vases, Wilkinson,” said Pansy. “Yes, miss,”’ said Antony. “You don’t seem to git much of a move on,” said Mr. Briggs to him in a tone of dissatisfaction. “‘ You'd never do for Bootle.” “No, sir,” said Antony from somewhere in the region of his boots, and he went out of the door. Br H. J. MOWAT * said Pansy, and xu “T’M SURPRISED at you talkin’ to the likes of ’im, Featherstone,”’ said Mr. Briggs in a tone of reproof, and he pointed over his shoulder with his left thumb at the closed door, placed his thumb in the armhole of his waist- coat, and once more surveyed the blue drawing-room with admiring eyes. “He seems a very respectable young man,” said Pansy, and set about arranging the flowers in the bright-blue vases. ‘Respectable!’ snorted Mr. Briggs. ‘ You gals are all alike!” Pansy did not take the trouble to contradict the mis- statement. His small blue-and-red eyes left the survey of his masterpiece and rested on her slender figure. It seemed to please them, for they sparkled. **Well, me lass, any noos for me? Still no letter come to Miss Poppy surrepshous like?” “Not to my knowledge,” said Pansy. “Well, they ’aven’t come by post, I'll take my oath to that. I've gone through that post bag mornin’ an’ ’

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( - afternoon every day since we come ‘ere, an’ no one’s got a key of it but me. All ’er letters, excep’ the begging ones, come from Bootle. But it’s odd as she doesn’t show more down-’earted.” “Perhaps she’s forgetting him,” said Pansy, with no great interest in her voice “Or ’e ’er. After the tellin’ orf I give ‘im I shouldn't wonder if ’e thought it was the best thing ’e could do, an’ the quicker 'e did it the better. You should ’ave ’eard the tellin’ orf I give ‘im! It would have opened your eyes,”’ said Mr. Briggs proudly. Pansy could have told him that she had heard that tell- ing off and it had not opened her eyes. She said nothing. ‘Well, remember it’s arf a crown for every surrepshous letter you intercep's an’ brings me—arf a crown.” “T should think that Miss Poppy would give anyone who brought her a note from Mr. Hambleton a good deal more than half a crown,” said Pansy a trifle scornfully. “Then you’re wrong, me lass. Poppy ’as bin brought up very careful. Besides I stopped ’er pocket money di- reckly she come down ’ere,”’ said Mr. Briggs triumphantly. ‘You would,” said Pansy. “You're right,”’ said Mr. Briggs, bridling. “I don’t see how you can prevent their meeting when she goes for a stroll to the village or in the park,” said Pansy in a dispassionate tone. “T can an’ I ’ave,”’ said Mr. A quiet fragrance of mixed liquors still floated on the blue air. Poppy came forward, pulling the hatpins out of her hat. “If pa gives you any more of his nonsense, Featherstone, you just clout his head. It’s the only thing that does him any good,”’ she said in the careless tone of one speaking of the inclemency of the English climate Pansy was a little taken aback hy this matter-of-fact treatment of Mr. Briggs’ amorous endeavor, but she said calmly: “I will, miss.” “If one girl clouted his head in Bootle, a dozen did said Poppy in a tone of careless reminiscence. ‘‘ And some didn’t—and ma had to clout them,”’ she went on. It seemed to Pansy that Bootle must be a rather purple place. “Of course that was in the old days before he made such a lot of money,” said Poppy, still in the historic vein. She took off her hat and added: ‘Not that he’s any better now.” “It must he rather—rather trying,’ sympathetic voice, Some comment seemed to be required. “Some men are like that,”’ said Poppy in the tone of one experienced but indifferent. ‘I must say pa’s a fair terror, though. I want a hat with a broader brim. This ” said Pansy in a THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 21 scorching sun is fair ruining my complexion. I'll wear the pink one I got at Margate.” Pansy considered the effect of the hot pink of that hat with the mauve frock Poppy was wearing. “The blue hat suits you much better, miss—the one you got from Madame Elise,”’ she said firmly “But pink’s my favorite color,” said Poppy plaintive “Very well, miss,” said Pansy coldly “No, no! Get the blue—get the blue!’ said Poppy quickly. Pansy went to get the blue. As she went she wondered at the purple patches in the Briggs’ family life. Poppy went to one of the Venetian mirrors which hung on either side of the fireplace. Their frames had been recently regilded. She surveyed her heated face and powdered her nose. Then she sighed deeply. It seemed to her that life had grown uncommonly difficult. Antony’s long, ani- mated, whimsical face and Mr. Bracket’s quiet brown beauty floated before her inward vision The door opened and Antony entered bearing two bright-blue vases on a silver tray. He had been some time finding them. Poppy put away the powder puff quickly, glanced at him nervously and shrank a little nearer to the fireplace, with averted eyes. Antony looked at her as he crossed the room. She was looking uncommonly at tractive; and his spirits, depressed by Pangsy’s cold Briggs. ‘I kep’ an eye on ’er for the first week myself, an’ now Albert Bracket does it. I give ‘im the orfice. That was the reason I arsked ‘im down *ere—one of the reasons.” Pansy said nothing He surveyed her more at- tentively, edged a little nearer the table, and said: “I say, you’re lookin’ prettier than ever this arternoon.”’ He smirked most agreeably. Pansy missed the smirk. She said nothing He edged a little nearer still and observed: “I don’t know as I ever saw a prettier gal outside Bootle, an’ I knows a little bit of orl right when I sees it, I do.”’ Pansy looked at him. Her eyes would have looked much more kindly on a toad. She moved round the table. All of it was between them. He looked at the table and began to move round it. So did Pansy. The pace grew quicker. Then she smiled, a fleeting, ravishing smile, and pushed one of the bright-blue vases off the table. It struck Mr. Briggs about the middle. There was a good deal of water in it. It ran down him ““Now, look what you've done!” she said coldly. “Me?” cried Mr. Briggs. “S'welp me, I never! You done it yourself! An’ you done it a-purpuss, you little "ussy!”’ He tore from his pocket a large purple-silk handkerchief and began to mop himself vig- orously Poppy came t irough the window. ““Soppin’ wet you’ve made me trousies! I'll catch me death o’ cold!’ said Mr. Briggs with tears in his voice. ‘“*At your games again, pa,” said Poppy in a tone of cold and weary disapproval Mr. Briggs turned on her and cried in a tone of virtuous indignation: ‘‘Games? Wot games? I don’t know wot you're talkin’ about. I just knocked up agin the table accidental like an’ one o’ them blarsted vases fell off it and wetted me legs.”’ He went briskly toward the door. “I must go an’ change me trou- sies this minnit or I'll catch me death o’ cold. An’I put on ~ this pertickler soot because ’Er 0 wank ’ prudence, rose, He set the vases on the table and said in deep, mournful and moving tones: “Don't you know me, Poppy?” Poppy jumped. Her eyes grew uncommonly big in her head as she stared at him, then she cried: ‘Goodness grace ious! If it isn’t Mr. Hambleton!” “And you didn’t know me,” said Antony mournfully “*T never thought to look at you in those clothes,” said Poppy quickly. “‘And those whiskers alter your face so They make it rounder like.’ “This was the only way to come to you—to be near you,”’ he said ‘But fancy your dressing up like that!" she said rather breathlessly as the astonishing and romantic situation grew plain ‘What does the coat mat ter? It’s the heart that beats beneath it,’”’ said Antony, pat ting the crimson velvet above his left lung. “To be near you I would have dressed as a dust man.” ‘I don’t believe you'd stick at nothing!” said Poppy wit Intense conviction and lapsing a little from grammar in her emotion ‘And and it’s really romantic. It's like the old times one reads of.’ “In love there are no old times, or new. It is always the ame—alway laughing at locksmit!} "said Antony, get ting into hi wing I've often felt that and you put it so beautifully, Mr Hambleton. You ought to have been a poet,” said Poppy with immense admiration Then she added in a tone of pain: “And you've shaved off your dint little mustache ‘It had to go,” said Antony in the tone of a determined suitor, “It was a trivial sac rifice for han et The pl e pleased him greatly. H made a mental note ol oo ppose it had sald Pan 5 idly, and then in a fresh access of admiration she cried How those clothes and tnose } ’ eT do change you I never liked pa’s livery he fore. But you do set it off.”’ Antony, who was alread giving himself his full value contrived to draw himself uy Ladyship was comin’ to tea.” He went through the door and banged it behind him. “If You Wilt Go and Behave Like a Bull in a China Shop, Pa, it’s Onty What You've Got to Expect,”’ al Said Poppy With Filial Clear: Sightedness > higher (Continued on Page 69)

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22 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST XXVIII [! WAS on Monday morning that Anna Bly set out from her obscure hotel to find the man who might ay the word to save a Christian minister to his iwindling congregatior She had applied at the offices f the Natural Energy Fruit and Land November 20,1920 By Wallace Irwim RALEIGH ILLUSTRATED BY HENRY “No, not legal matter. I know he’s a very busy man, but I think he’ll give me a moment.” “Shank you!” declared the sweetest Japanese in the world. “I see what I can.” He dodged behind a glass screen and was gone a long time. Other mem- Company on Saturday just after Zu- lie’s boat had sailed from a Pacific Mail dock. But the place had been wed on the afternoon of rest. Anna bleak Sunday ina boarding house which, had spent a blank, Ceary Street leceiving the passer-by with the sign Hotel,” pitality of musty carpets and stringy offered the depressing hos- irtains. The place was called The Royalmere The Royal Smear it is, an’ that’s he truth,” Susan Skelley had pro- aimed upon her first sr iff of the dank nterior Anna had passed Friday night and aturday morning with the new-made At dawn on Friday Sid Foot- ridge’s squadron had faded into the bride fog beyond the Narrows light. They ire always unsatisfactory things, these hours of waiting tosay good-by. Triv- the mind s occupied with the practical job of ialities obtrude themselves; getting away How many a sweet word has been left unspoken because a steamer trunk refused to close! The press of detail crushes out senti- ment and philosophy—-and it is often better so Or ly heart ‘I never thought I could be a navy had said. “I used to wonder how you ever managed with Alec —-always from port to port, always waiting for him to come But I know now, Anna, how had Zudi onee spoken her wife,”” she moving ashore you felt “It’s the waiting that makes us love them,” Anna had answered quietly. But the pain of a parting had Then whistles brayed, the deck was a-flutter with handkerchiefs, and officious little tugs hauled the dignified monster out second been over in an instant into the stream. That chapter was closed for Anna; and she was glad when Monday came and she could finish her one remaining business with the little town of Bly She found the offices of the Natural Energy Fruit and Land Company prosperously established on the tenth floor of a skyscraper. The main office which she entered expressed itself in from polished ma- hogany counters to gilt-lettered win- In and out of many corridors terms of wealt} dows and anterooms smartly dressed Jap- clerks, their wiry mustaches cropped and their hair combed back anese : in fierce black pompadours, were scur- rying about the business of Natural Energy In the large room beyond could be glimpsed the glories of a cashier's de- partment, outfitted like a national bank, with many quick and clever yellow faces behind brass-grilled windows. To all appearances the Natural Energy Fruit and Land Com- pany was a powerful machine Anna stood for an instant confused by the prevalent bustle. The Natural Energy had no end of business that morning. Peasant Japanese, wandering with that lost expression peculiar to the city-visiting yokel, would be addressed in their native tongue by the Natural Energy's brisk then they would be personally con- ducted from counter to counter to linger over typewritten A few of them would be led away through handsomely lettered in hirakana, Stout, middle- uged sons of Nippon, obviously representing the commer- cial class, asked authoritative questions of the amiable clerks Several representatives; documents in blue covers swinging doors the flowing shorthand of Japan behind the longest counter American typists and a few slim tidy in i] ne keys Japanese girls, the and American shirt waists, clicked hatter husily at t bers of his information bureau were busy on both ends of the counter, giv- ing advice in Japanese to a throng of Natural Energy’s customers. . At last the sweet little man brought out a very thin Japanese with a mournful gray mustache. “Who you wish see?” asked the latest arrival, his manner markedly contrasting with the saccharine air of his inferior. “‘Tshould like to speak to Mr. Sato,” she began all over. “Eh!” The red-rimmed eyes glared at her through brilliant spectacles. “‘] am second vice president. What you wish say?” ““T am engaged in farming at Bly,” she decided to tell him. ‘“‘I have come with a message from one of his friends there.” “Which friend?” ““A Mr. Awaga—he’s the Japanese clergyman there, you know.” “Eh! What he can do for Mr. Awaga?”’ “It is confidential business—I’ve got to speak directly to Mr. Sato.’ “Eh!” Without another word of encoyr- agement the melancholy person turned on his heel and vanished behind the screen. Anna’s wait this time was longer than before. Her feet grew weary of standing in one place. She leaned on the counter and tried to amuse herself with guessing just what the stenog- raphers could be putting down so earnestly. Once she lost patience and appealed to the sweetest Japanese in the world, who looked up from the confidential advice he was doling out to his countrymen. “Prerry soon somebody tell,” he sipped, and resumed his discussion. Finally a handsome yellow boy with a face as smooth as an egg made his appearance from behind the magic screen. When she saw him Anna had the impression that the second vice president had gone back to his desk and told the office boy to pounce out at her in half an hour. Her impression was justified when the youth approached and addressed her. “Mr. Sato out,” he cooed. “Do you think I could make an ap- pointment with him for to-morrow?” she asked, already sufficiently discour- aged. ” He Leaned a Little Forward as Though t¢ Make Himsetf Plainer as He Added: “I am K. Sato"’ The sweetest Japanese in the world stood behind a desk labeled “Information,”’ and when Anna approached him his smile revealed all but his wisdom teeth, and he writhed in excruciating politeness. “Do you think it would be possible for me to see Mr. Sato?” she asked. ‘Oh, madam!” lids. “‘That would be entirely difficult this time. “But I have come here on rather important business.” “So sorry! Could you tell me that business so I could take it up?"’ His voice bubbled into a series of giggles, so amiable was his mood. “I'll have to talk to Mr. Sato,” she insisted. “So sorry we must know the nature,” he trilled. ““‘We could give such advice from our various departments. Possibly it is rear estate you wish to discuss?” ““No, not real estate,” “ Legar matter?” He sipped twice and blinked his flat Te + > “T see,”’ smiled the lad, and van- ished into the unknown. Dune Leacy had once told Anna that a Japanese never says no, and in this instance the graceful national habit was prettily illustrated. She drooped against the counter, growing more satisfied as time passed that the Japanese office boy had gone back to pitch pennies—or whatever it is that Japanese office boys pitch in moments of leisure. She had just settled herself upon a bench, determined to bide her time, when a huge, red-faced American in a gray cutaway coat and wide-brimmed hat came swinging in and presented himself noisily at the information desk. “I want to see Sato,”” he rumbled as he glared savagely and chewed a rag of a cigar. “Which name you say?” asked the sweetest Japanese in the world. “Senator Ogensbury.’ Anna looked up with renewed curiosity at the name of the state senator. The sweetest little man behind the desk fairly melted into sirup before so mighty a person.

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“You come this way, senator!” he sipped. “Mr. Sato see you this door, sair.”’ The little guide, bowing like a major-domo, opened the gate and showed the distinguished visitor to a heavy door in the rear. All of which goes to show that you can find anybody if you only know how. Anna did not permit the office boy to stain his soul with another mendacity. She rose and had started toward the exit when she recognized a face which was welcome to her for the first time since she had known it. Hurrying busily among the minor officials was the elegant Mr. Oki. “Ah, Mrs. Bly!” he came rushing toward her, showing the smile that had always reminded Anna of so much cocoa butter. “You're in this office too,”’ she said. “‘How charming!” “IT became appointed here only last week,”’ he explained with the air of one too poor to deserve such a reward. “T am now second assistant treasurer. Is it not nice offices we got here?”’ “Wonderful!” s unlimited power.” “Quite so.”’ He paused for an instant as though taking time to swallow her remark. “‘ We are going at everything on grand scale. That is secret of success, is it not, Mrs. Bly?” “The very secret,” she agreed. ““And we have wonderful plans for improvement in all California. We shall show them what blessings Japanese can make for America.” “Ts that a threat, Mr. Oki?” she asked. He giggle d glee fully “T wish I could learn jokes like you do! Something we can never know right is American jokes. What brought you so far in the air this afternoon?” “TI have been trying to see Mr. Sato,”’ she admitted. ‘Perhaps you could help me.” “Oh, how I wish it! But this declared. ‘“‘They seem to express never marry a Japanese. Also she recalled how Mr. Oki had mentioned Mr. Otisuki as a narikin—a vulgar fel- low, suddenly rich and swollen with bourgeois pride. “Even for so sweet and charming a girl,’’ she could not help saying, “it must be a great advance in the world to marry so much above her station.” Oki waited for that to sink in, then his smile was broader than ever. “Oh, no,” he admitted. ‘So much money is equal to nobility anywhere.” ‘Weren't the great daimiios of Japan taught to despise money?” she argued. “Yes. But why?” His bright eyes snapped with the question. “They got plenty of it—swords in those days plows in this. If you got money sufficiently behind you, then nobility crops up in the world. Same Japan, same everywhere.” “Your country must be changing,’ fully as she bade him good-by. she said thought- XIX EXT morning Anna received a night letter from her Aunt Julia.in New York, and the message seemed to settle everything in an aimless sort of way. Mrs. Stannard had always considered the California venture queer. To Aunt Julia the queer was unforgivable; not to be queer had been the fixed determination of her sixty years. Anna had written to her on the day she sold the farm, and she had sent a telegram to announce Zudie’s marriage to Sid Footridge. That in itself must have struck the eminently conventional Mrs. Stannard as sufficiently queer, for her reply was delayed until the Tuesday which followed Anna’s visit to the Natural Energy Fruit and Land Company. The night letter was urgent and of double length; and though it expressed disapproval at the queerness of Zudie, it melted into affectionate entreaties for Anna to bring the children home and put Kipps back in the only school that THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 23 Aunt Julia thought fit for one of her blood. There would be room for them all in the big house, the message said. Anna read it to the close, and realizing that there was no house sufficiently large to shelter her and Aunt Julia in comfort, she was about to word an affectionate refusal when a second consideration decided her to show the night letter to Susan Skelley. “New Yark’s the place,” decided Susan. ‘An’ a bad day it was whin ye took th’ childer to live among thim Chinee. Ef ye stay here another week they'll git ye yet, an’ it’s truth I’m tellin’ ye. I’ve no childer of me own, Mrs. Bly, an’ ef I had they’d go no further west than Third Avenoo, an’ that but wance a year. Yer Aunt Julia’s got sinse in ‘er head, though few wud think ut.” Susan Skelley cast the deciding vote for Anna. Life ir Aunt Julia’s house would be far from an easy thing. It was better than the prune ranch—that was all. To endure Aunt Julia meant surrendering all personality, taking the crumbs from a grudging table, sinking to the level of a poor relation. But there were Kipps and Nan to be thought of. Under Aunt Julia's guidance Anna could manage so that her boy should be educated; her daughter destined, Anna was sure, to great beauty, would have her rightful place in the world. To become a hanger-on in a set where once she had lived on a lavish scale frightened her for just an instant. Then she dressed herself and prepared to seek out a railroad ticket office. “Where you going, moms Kipps plunged at her out of the dimness of the hall “I’m going to the ticket office. Want to come along?” “T'll say I do!” shouted the boy, who had chafed like a caged animal under the confinement of the hotel. “ But say, moms, what do you want at a ticket office?”’ “We're all going back to New York.” “When?” “Just as soon as we can get accommodation This kept Kipps silent until ?”’ asked a treble voice, a Mr. Sato is long time out of Sar Francisco. We cannot tell when to expect him back sometime.” She overlooked this pleasan chasm between fact and fiction. “Ab, Mrs. Bly,” he cooed, “that is very happy news we hear about your sister’s wedding.”’ “News travels fast, doesn’t it?” she asked, an- noyed at this man’s continual prying into her affairs. “Has my news traveled to you, Mrs. Bly?” “Your news?” Inwardly she resented his coup- ling of his own news with Zudie’s. “T, too, am soon to be mar- ried.” “How delight- ful!” chimed Anna, repressing any note of sar- casm which might have struggled to be heard. “And whom have you made lucky?’’ “Miss Oti- suki— Miss Gene- vieve Otisuki.”’ Ina flash Anna recalled the wealthy land speculator’s daughter who had played Chopin and Beethoven for her in her father’s Piedmont palace; she re- membered the they had gone down in the ele- vator and were crossing the cheaply ornamen- ted lobby “What are we going back for?” he took up the Lnerme oon a they had reached a street corner ‘You must go to school again,” she told nim, a d had a feeling of being on the de- fensive “Where are ws going to live?” the cro exam iner persisted as the Geary Street car had stopped to take them in “With Aunt Julia.” “Fowiet” “Don't you want to live with Aunt Julia?” hi mother asked, but Kipps was then too busy getting t her afels aboard the car to answer When they had settled ir their 2ats he LOOK a geep breath toex pre his eandid opinion *Moms, I can’t ee thi Aunt Julia stuff a-tall,’ However Kipp felt about it Anna had mads up her mind, and in this the sale man at the ticket office was help ful. Hecould get them nothing or the Overland SLI OA Limited inside a week; possibl;: girl’s insistence that she would “Te Isn't What I Want,’’ She Answered Without Looking at Him. (Continued on ‘My Life Hasn't Been Guided by That" Page 58

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24 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST FOUNDED A°‘D' 1728 PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY INDEPENDENCE SQUARE PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA, U.S.A GEORGE HORACE LORIMER, EDITOR Five Cents the Copy From All Newsdealers. By Subscription; ~$2.50 the Year, Remittances from outside the United States proper to be by U. 8 Money Order of Draft, payable in U. 5. funds, on « bank in the U. 8. To Canada--By Subscription, $5.75 the Year Foreign Subscriptions; For Countries in the Postal Union. Subscriptions, $6.00 the Year. Remittences to be by Draft on « bank in the U. S., payable in U.S. funds Single Copies, Ten Cents PHILADELPHIA, NOVEMBER 20, 1920 Miracles HEN America was young and raw and hard every If he had need of clothing, he raised sheep and his womenfolk made If he had need of meat, he tramped through the woods with If he had need of a house, he felled a tree, fashioned it into boards man needed to be sufficient unto himself. the wool into garments for him and for themselves. a long rifle and brought it back on his shoulder. and pinned the boards together. He made his own tools, raised his own food and even made his own shoes. The last half century, with its miraculous inventions, Each that keeps has taught us ease and robbed us of independence. of us has a little task —the task of a specialist him in a rut and makes him dependent on others for the comforts he demands as the profit for his toil When one who is near the gutter reaches the point where he can without shame accept a coin from an intimate, he progresses quickly to the point where he can without shame ask a coin of a stranger; so one who is content to depend upon others for a few things develops a feeling of helpless- ness that persuades him to depend upon others for all things When America was drawn into the war with Germany there were many who understood that the task of dis- couraging dreams of world empire would require the whole of America’s energy; but there were many more who hoped and dreamed and fully expected that Edison or some other genius of hard work would come forward with a miracle to wipe the enemy from the face of the earth and permit the rest of us to go about our business. So now, with the world in a state of turmoil, with men seeking spoil in the name of liberty, patriotism and ex- pediency, and civilization given over to folly and excess and plunder and strife, each man says to his brother, “Why doesn't somebody do something?” A world en- tirely surrendered to selfishness and stubbornly refusing to turn its hand for any common good pauses at intervals in its getting to scold because somebody doesn’t appear on the stage and calm the troubled atmosphere by pulling rabbits from his hat In saner days there were young men eager to begin at the bottom and learn the business. Now they wish to begin at the top, and show the old fogies how to put a little pep in the works. There is little eagerness to learn, but great eagerness to get. In a saner day men worked and saved to buy a bond, and then another and another—sure investments, paying THE SATURDAY EVENING POST little income, but affording a guaranty of protection in later years. Now they scorn all things conservative. They give up their money in exchange for promises of twenty or forty or one hundred per cent of profit, and dream dreams of mansions and butlers and limousines that will be theirs to-morrow when the miracle is uncorked. Why should one be content with a pocketful of silver or a little sum in the bank when there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and a nice gentleman who is free from guile volunteers to serve as guide for a consideration? Generating a pound of steam this year requires just as much coal and just as much sweat as the same task re- quired last year and the year before. Growing a bushel of wheat requires just as much labor this year as last. Rosy promises and rosier dreams serve only to woo us away And these two, power and food, are the essentials. from the plow and the shovel, and for each moment we spend in dreaming now we shall pay another day in sweat. One may get wealth quickly by getting it from others who created it, but creating wealth is a slow job. There are miracles to lessen man’s burdens and increase his com- forts, but there are none to take the place of common sense and sweat. Nothing Venture, Nothing Lose N THE game of tennis, as in the game of baseball, the I secret of success is known in the vernacular as putting ‘em where they ain’t. And yet an overzealous desire to put ’em in this vague and uninhabited place loses many games. The amateur ball player who has some skill with the bat is seldom content with a single. He yearns to meet one head-on with a mighty swing and park it some- where east of Suez. Frequently he accomplishes his pur- pose, but more frequently the effort proves his undoing; for the ball that aspires to clear the fence and falls yards short is prey to a rangy outfielder. In amateur tennis, also, there is an everpresent tempta- tion to get into the air to meet the high ones and from that vantage drive a return ball that will strike near the net When the return is made in this fashion it is time for another serve, but those and bound up among the birdies. who attempt it more frequently drive the ball into the net or out of the court, and thus defeat themselves, if The spectacular player wins an occasional mighty cheer, but the opposition is content to get the balls safely over. more frequently ardent fans call down the wrath of heaven The But an upon him. This is not a defense of the defensive. offensive is ever possessed of the advantage. offensive is most effective when most prudent. Desperate chances are for desperate situations. To ad- One crosses a So one might multiply instances without end. venture unnecessarily is to court disaster. desert and stumbles upon a pocket of gold; thousands attempt the journey in search of other pockets—and leave their bones to bleach in the desert sand. If one could not succeed without venturing, and if one disposed to venture had an even chance to win, venture would be justified. But all experience has shown that one who travels the safer road is more certain to arrive, and that the short cuts lead to destruction more frequently than to the goal. Shrewd and conservative men at times do things that to the uninitiated seem venturesome, but these shrewd and conservative men know what they are doing and are justified by their profits. They measure the distance and chart the course to a goal before setting out on a journey. Luck is usually the product of infinite pains in planning a campaign. The best of extemporaneous speeches require hours of patient toil. It is said by those who have delved into the history of the last generation of sporting gentlemen that of the hundreds who made a profession of following the races and won and lost fortunes again and again but one or two ended the game with a competence. Certain it is that of the thousands who risk their little fortunes to get profit by fluctuations in the cotton and grain markets few survive one season of gambling, and none are content to draw out with a little profit. Each little winning tempts them to further risk until at last they are plucked clean. November 20,1920 It is not necessary that any man possessed of wit and health should remain the sport of poverty until the end of his days. Whether one’s earnings be great or small, he can save a portion. And his savings, whether invested wisely or left idle in a bank, will become a modest fortune. This is the slow way, but it has the virtue of certainty. Once in a great while a man gets rich quickly. But men have been experimenting for many thousands of years in an effort to find an easy way to wealth, and nearly all the experimenters have come to grief. The recipe required to make something from nothing has not yet been dis- covered. The race of man has not outgrown its follies, but it has learned many hard lessons and got from its bruises a store of wisdom. One may profit by the lessons other men have learned, or start an argument “with a hornet’s nest and retire to poultice the swelled places and meditate concern- ing the measure of his folly. To Bewildered Parents LD-FASHIONED parents of newfangled girls have QO never had deeper misgivings over daughter’s amuse- ments, recreations and general outlook upon life than they feel to-day. It is not that they grudge daughter her harm- less fun or harbor any crabbed wish to clip the bright wings of youth they find themselves in a state of real bewilderment over for that is not the way of parents; but the commonplaces of a newer world that did not exist when they were young. They simply do not know what to make of the young admirers who take daughter out to ride in motor cars that can cover a hundred miles in an afternoon. They feel a strange embarrassment when they see movies that make them blush while daughter merely giggles; and they are frankly scandalized by those evening dresses and dances that are so contrived as to be as devoid of beauty and distinction as they are of mod- esty and good taste. The craving for such things is but one of the problems that many a new-fashioned girl is thrusting upon her vainly protesting parents. “And what,” a bewildered mother is reported to have asked at a London dinner table, “‘is a modern girl?” ““A modern girl,” replied her shrewd neighbor, “‘is a girl who is determined to have a good time, whatever the price.” This rather severe definition, with its implication, per- haps confirms the fears of old-fashioned mothers who do not regard jazz, Georgette and the pictures as the only good things in life, or even as the stuff wherewith to make the type of motherhood most to be desired for future gen- erations of young Americans. Doctors have found that they can cure many destruc- tive addictions by offering the patient a substitute that allays the craving and is beneficial rather than harmful. For growing girls who are merely nibbling the pink frosting off the cake of life and think they cannot exist without the cheaper and more tawdry amusements, it would be impos- sible to find a better substitute than the Girl Scouts and their really interesting and wholesome doings. If any superior young lady is inclined to turn up her sophisticated nose at the Scouts, let her get a copy of Scout- ing for Girls—the official handbook of the organization and discover in its pages the amazing depths of her own ignorance about the commonest everyday things, indoors and out, that every bright girl should have at her finger tips. If she knows a good thing when she sees it she will make an effort to join the nearest troop, and very lucky she will be to get in, for the nominal dues do not begin to pay the expenses of maintenance and administration any more than they begin to measure the real value of what they buy. Any parent or elder brother who will take the trouble to spend an hour over Scouting for Girls will be amazed by the amount of interesting matter it contains and the skill with which it is presented. Itis not too much to say that the brain power behind the Girl Scouts is as great and as efficient as that behind the average college. It is a pity that at present only about ninety thousand girls can avail themselves of the pleasures and benefits that this admi- rable organization has to offer.

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 25 AN ANNOUNCEMENT ELIEVING as I do that the people of the United States retain their demonstrated high . oom sa me sense of responsibility and their broad conception of what may rightly be ex- pected of them under given circumstances, I cannot think that we need any- thing more than this plain and indisputable fact to go on with: There are three and a half million children in Eastern and Central Eu- rope still dependent upon us for their lives! This fact is the basis of what I hope may prove to be our final problem of hu- manitarian duty in connec- tion with the great conflict and catastrophethroughthe after effects of which the world is now struggling Soon after the armistice, and under the generous authority of Congress, we the American people—un- dertook the rescue of five million children in the ter- ritories that had been shut a ae dag off from us for more than four years by the western battle front. Hundreds of thou- sands of these children had been orphaned by the war; other thousands were waifs astray in the general chaos, and all of them were suffering the physical consequences of a long-drawn-out period of undernourishment that in many localities approached the verge of actual starvation. Under governmental supervision, and with a congres- sional appropriation to cover the necessities, we created an organization the function of which was to furnish moral support and financial backing to local branch organizations in the countries involved, to the end that these children should be fed and clothed and brought back in as large numbers as possible to a normal process. When the Funds Gave Out HERE are many citizens who have permitted them- selves to labor under an impression, and who have openly expressed a fear, that in undertaking this work we were embarking upon a course that would result in the pauperi- zation of Europe. This description of an impossibility has been so frequently used that it has come to sound as though it might mean something; but it does not, and I wish to emphasize at the outset that no misgiving was ever founded on a less accurate conception of facts. In the first place, America’s work in Europe under the American Relief Administration, European Children’s Fund, has been done to a great extent by the various European peoples them- selves. If this were not so it could not have been done. If we had had to send to Europe and to maintain there the number of men and women necessary for carrying out the details of our operations, if we had had to cover all local expenditures and to establish all the institutions that were needed, no sum of money within our power to imagine as being devoted to relief would have been sufficient. The first step of organization was for American repre- sentatives in the capital city of each of the afflicted countries to assemble the leading business men and promi- nent women for the purpose of directing them in the forma- tion of their own committees to work out the details of operations in their territories. The intention was to make each-nation. feel a fulleresponsibility for the welfare of its By HERBERT HOOVER When the American Con- gress made its splendid charitable appropriation to —_ Children Streaming to the Kitchen of the American Relief Administration, Furopean Children's Fund, This Was Formerty the Patace of the Emperors of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and Napoteon's Residence When He Occupied Vienna own children, and there has never been any cause to devi- ate from this purpose. It has been carried out everywhere in a most satisfactory way —in Serbia and in other sections of Jugoslavia, in Austria, Hungary, Rumania, Czecho- slovakia, Poland, the Baltic Provinces, andinevery country, in fact, to which we have given assistance. The central committees were rapidly extended to cover child welfare in every town and village. Demands for local charity and voluntary service were met with a whole- hearted response; help from municipal and central gov ernments was asked for and received, and each branch organization, without exception, undertook to supply in local currency the funds for the local expenditures required The organization as it now stands aggregates in excess of one hundred thousand earnest workers, while the personnel of the American end consists of only about forty represent- atives-—-men and women; yet it is only fair to say that these forty actually held together and kept going the vast organization which stretches from the shores of the Baltic to the Black Sea. The local workers have coérdinated local charities; have placed orphans in homes; have instituted and conducted orphan asylums and children’s hospitals, and above all have created some fifteen thousand kitchens and canteens for feeding children who live at home. The idea with which we have sought to imbue them, and which has become predominant in so many minds, is that the future worth, not to say the very life, of each race depends upon the conservation of child life and the careful upbuild- ing of the bodies and characters of the young. They are doing their part. We, the American people, have done our part by sending to them in free gift the milk, the fats, the clothing, the medical supplies and other essentials obtain- able from no other source. America does not and never will fight children, and the children of every race and creed, of friend and former enemy alike, have been cared for on a basis of absolute equality; and it is a fact that nothing America has ever done as an act of grace has sunk so deep in the heart of the world. In the minds of millions of men and women of ten different nations there dwells a thought which supersedes all others with regard to us, and that is the grateful thought of our solicitude for their children. } meet the desperate condi- | tions in Europe it was thought that the necessities would not extend beyond the harvest of 1919. But, as we all know now, the es- tablishment of peace and the restoration of industry, economic stability and or- derly conduct among the European peoples have proved to be tasks mucii more difficult of accomplish- ment than was expected, and a situation still exists which demands of us yet another season of broad humanitarian service When the congressional appropriation was exhausted the men in the organization which was formed by my colleagues and myself found themselves faced by the al- ternative of turning millions | of youngsters unfed and — , uncared for from America’s door or taking meastres on their own initiative te en- able them to go on with The question was, What kind of measures? the 1919 had of children dependent upon us by about a million and a the work During year we reduced the number half, through a careful process of elimination of the less undernourished and through improved conditions in some countries. Each child on our voluminous lists was periodi- cally examined by competent physicians and nurses, and wheresufficient improvement was shown or where the child’s condition did not indicate a too pronounced degree of undernourishment, his kitchen card was taken away from him and he was turned out to shiff@for himself. This in cases only, of course, where there were parents or other competent relatives. The orphans we had still with us How the Children Were Saved xo a emma Pe Warsaw in January, 1919,where there was never a child to be seen playing in the streets. If the harrowing, absolute truth must be told, the children of Warsaw were clinging to the hands and the skirts of their elders, crying for food which But telief Administration three had established its system the streets of Warsaw were filled their elders were unable to provide within months after the American with children, more than two hundred thousand of them, adequately fed and comfortably clothed for the first time No American miracle of modern civilization could ever in five years, frolicking and playing games who saw that forget it or ever underestimate its value. In the growth of our system it has developed that the local organizations secure for themselves and disburse between two and three dollars a month for the support of each child. The American assistance has amounted to about one dollar per month per child in imported supplies, which shows that we have contributed not more than a But the important fact is that we have met the local deficiency in third of the funds required for the enterprise. milk, fats, medicines, clothing and other essentials, with out which the situation would have been hopeless. Also it has been only through American leadership and codpera- tion that the morale, stability and courage of organization (Continued on Page 117)

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26 MAN TO NDER the elms, whose branches reared starkly in the moonlight, a band forth, drowning the rapid-fire interchange of cries and calls that had running among two young aligned snakelike in column of fours across the venerable crashed heen ome thousand men campus Then as the opening strains of music were identified, the crowd caught up the swinging, surging football song and sent the militant words roaring out into the crisp night until it seemed they must be carrying on and on through out the land, finding echoes in the heart of every far-flung alumnus From ahead came a megaphoned word of command; feet shuffled on the graveled walk as the long line obedi- ently set itself into motion “Let's sneak into the mass meeting, Buster.”’ Jim Starbuck, left tackle of the Varsity, who had been standing on the turf out of the column of undergraduates, about the shoulder of Buster Taylor, the also his roommate—and moved threw his quarter back forward with the rest “But look here, Jim, old boy, we can’t do that arm who wa We're due at the Lawn Club for bed in two hours.”” The little quarter back’s steps were lagging so that the man at his side was fairly dragging him along. “Are you crazy, Jim?” I haven't seen a mass meeting since | was a Freshman. May get something there. We need it Lot better than sitting round with a bunch of chaps doing their best to be cheerful and making a bad job of it.” “Crazy nothing “But the coact “Oh, chuck it! I'm captain of this team. We needn't stay long. Lf I had my way I'd have the whole squad go Come on Buster Taylor shrugged and took pace with his com panion along the line of march The two men were Senior the only Seniors on the eleven: The mood of both was subdued. And this was not solely because of knowledge that it was the last time they would come forth as undergraduates under the November moon to watch fellow sought to work them up to the proper fighting pitch of big their students as various orator game enthusiasm They had this thought, of course, and it was a somber one; but over and above anything pertaining to sentiment was the conviction that it would take more than spirited singing and cheering to whip the team into form qualified to defeat or even to stand at bay the representatives of rival wh« the _* A an ancient filled with dence of a successful season thus far as well as th® know! edge of still greater potency town conte

in reserve, was due in on the morrow But there was nothing in the atmosphere of Wolsle Hall to indicate that the mass of students there gathered had doubt their ability in this Standing in the extreme rear in the shadow of a doorway, the two football players caught an impression of spirit which surged like the waves of the sea. Reason told them that it meant nothing but the sheer unwar ranted optimism of, youth and college loy- alty; knowledge advised them that when they took the field the lips of the throng of partisans would be dumb as far as they and their fellow players were concerned. Yet it required both reason and knowledge to combat a force that urged toward sheer emotionalism. All about them eyes were flaming and bodies gyrating as the sharp barking college cheer with its fine sonorous conclusion roared to the roof and rolled.back in giant repercussion Then a-song, a swinging anthem that seemed to make tangible all that everyone felt and would like to say were there any words with which to say it. “Good stuff, Buster.” Starbuck grinned at his com- panion. “Better than mooning about.” “You bet, Jim!" Buster's face was solemn, set Then came the president of the university. He was a wise man and the snows of many Yale winters had begun to register in his hair. Many football elevens had he seen come and go—and many things of greater importance. He had a sense of values. So now his remarks were tempered with humor and broad vision. Of course Yale would win. any as to respect

It was the habit of Yale men to win in every- thing they undertook to do. But there were things even greater than victory, and even in y defeat Yale could still attain them. He named them—magnanimity, fair play, clean sports- manship. And then to take the edge from his didacticism he told in his rollicking way a funny story at the expense of some ultra-Harvard professor, unnamed “Good speech,” said Buster Taylor “Oh—it was all right.”” Starbuck shrugged. The coach spoke; several of them in fact. Yale could win, they said, if the undergraduates, every man of them, were back of the team. The Yale cheering section, they said, could send on the field, in an irre- sistible wave, the will to victory. Without that impulse, without that solid backing, any efforts the players might make would be as nothing. Fight! Fight! Fight! That should be the slogan. And sO on. A frown had settled upon Starbuck’s face. “Stuff!” he said, placing a hand upen his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s slope out of here, Buster.” “Wait a minute.” Taylor drew back. “T want to hear this song; always liked it.” Starbuck gestured impatiently but lin- gered until the thrilling chorus had ended, and was then turning away when a cheer and a rattling of exclamations filled the hall. Glancing toward the platform, the two men saw a short, slight man with rumpled hair, long nose and steel pectacles making his way to the platform “Why, it’s the Titan!”’ exclaimed Taylor, peering at the curious little figure. “What the deuce does he want?”’ Starbuck laughed. Many were laughing, in fact. The Titan was Professor Timson, his nickname born some years before in the mind of an undergraduate who was gifted with a sense of jovial contrast. He was a logician and had never been known to take any interest in extra curricular activities; certainly not football. The laughter and ironical cheering continued as he made his peace with the chairman in laughing colloquy. “Young gentlemen,” he said, advancing to the edge of the platform, teetering just as was his habit in the lecture room, “I've been thinking. I know how repugnant that ahem!” He paused to let the derisive outburst subside. ‘“ Now, let’s be serious. I may have something to say that is worth hearing —and I may not. At all events I am bold to confess to you that foothall—phases thereof—have interested me, academically, for many years. This season particularly aspects of our game have been appealing. We have found our team defeated by what is, I believe, idea is to some of you The Crowd Caught Up the Swinging, Surging Football Song and Sent the Militant Words Roaring Out Into the Crisp Night called a midseason opponent, one that never before dared lift its head in our presence, and by our dearly loved rival of Princeton. Two defeats! But to Yale they spell fail- ure. Yale has failed.” Starbuck, who had been staring at the speaker, nudged his companion. “Holy Moses, Buster, do you hear all this? The Titan, of all mutts!” Taylor scowled SATURDAY EVENING POST By LAWRENCE PERRY ILLUSTRATED

“Out Here, Fettows. November 20,1920 Br mM. L. BLUMENTHAL “Shut up, Jim! This is going to be good. You don’t know this bird as I do.” “Why have we failed?” The voice was rising. “The answer I have evolved seems satisfactory. Be- cause, then, we are playing to a system that ordina- rily produces results—but has not produced results this season. “The Yale system, what does it mean? To me it seems to mean a definite, inelastic method. Am I right?” ' “Goon! ’Rayfor Prof. Timson! Soak *em!”’ The cries volleyed from every- where. The man gestured for silence. “The personal equation has been subordinated to the fitting of individ- uals to collective purpose _” “Eh?” camea big voice. “Let’s have that again.” “Well, we have sunk men into a machine—if that meets your comprehension. All very well, ordinarily. “But already this season we have met two teams whose mem- bers knew as much about rock- bottom principles of this game, football, as we did. We have met men, besides, who stood firm in the glory of their manhood and demanded—what? They de- manded before they would accept defeat that they be outmanned if I may be permitted to coin a word—outmanned. “The Yale system! Bah! They stood ready to tear it down. And they did tear it down. They piled it all over the field in shattered bits. They stripped our men bare of the adventitious elements of our game and left us, as it were, naked, with no alternative save the dealing of primeval battle, eye to eye andmantoman. And how did we acquit ourselves? Bravely? Valiantly? Yes. But futilely.” He paused, taking off his glasses to wipe them, and, having done so, gazing about the great auditorium which he was now holding silent. “Why futilely? Because we were faced with the pride of personal opinion. Because the linemen who opposed us said: ‘Gentlemen of Yale, the territory allotted to us to defend is our territory. Therein you come at your peril.’ Or conversely, on attack, they were intolerant of our presence—not of our presence as a team but as eleven individual men each to be dealt with as the pugilist deals with his single opponent—eye to eye, man to man.” As he paused Starbuck turned to his quarter back. “Are you getting this, Buster?” “Yes. Is it rot?” ‘I don’t know. Listen.” “1 don’t suppose,”’ Professor Timson went on, “that the members of the team are here to-night. I could wish that they were. For I am fain to believe I have fathomed a lesson of our football season which I wish they could understand as I do, not alone for the value ; it would be to them as football players but to carry out into the world with them. (Continued on Page 28) Everybody Gather Round"

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST MADE BY THE MAKERS OF CAMPBELLS SOUPS _ simmm!i/===tiiiinnl ES SAE RE -_ WITH Tomato SAUCE + it % of, JOSEPH CAMPBELL GOMPANY fe CAMDEN,N.J.,U.SA- Slow-cooked and digestible Campbell’s Beans are slow-cooked until they are thoroughly wholesome and digestible. They are so carefully prepared in the famous Campbell’s kitchens that you obtain the full food value of the highest quality, selected beans. The flavor of rich, lean pork and the appetizing relish of the tomato sauce make this dish as delightful as it is strength and energy building. | 15c a Can Except west of Mississippi River and in , BEANS anada LOOK FOR SZ AZO4AAN D2 WrITZ LASZL aauiinataed Sat ap tienda. ae eeeieaiee aeeeiad om Say eee re Pee, ~ >

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28 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST (Continued from Page 26 “In any event the point has its practical application to every man here to-night. Not all of you can play football, but you will go out into the world where team play, where +} organized methods, may or may not stand you in stead, but where in all verity you will be called upon to deal man to man with many persor And against them you will pre- vail not only because you believe in something back of you—a business system, say, or a professional code— but hecause you believe in yourselves Because you are bul- warked by the majesty of your own personality and the puissance .of your own will yee ey Say of a tackle on our eleven” the Titan lifted 1 glass of water to his lips while Buster Taylor’s hand went through Starbuck's arm— ‘they say of a tackle on our eleven—I am not now quoting gossip; it is the opinion of one of our great critics of the game—that Mr. Starbuck would in the past three seasons have been known as the greatest tackle of his time if a Mr. Loughran, of Princeton, had not played end against him in the past three years.” ‘Gee, Jim 7 “Shut up, Buster! ‘What does that mean, in the last analysis? Why, noth- ing other than that Mr. Starbuck was playing the Yale ystem and Mr. Loughran was playing Mr. Starbuck. Man Eye to eye! Is this good football logic? I don’t I have not a great familiarity with ‘There stands that pro- to man! know. Perhaps not the game. You may be saying feasor guy, all loaded up with theory, as usual.’ Well, let that be as it may. In conclusion, deserting my favorite pagan philosophers, | commend you young gentlemen in my behalf to the fourth chapter of Philippians, the eighth verse. Thank you all.” At the Lawn Club, out on a quiet elm-shaded avenue, where the members of the Yale eleven were preparing for bed, the head coach met Starbuck and Buster Taylor as they entered the door “For heaven's sake, Jim Starbuck “Don't say a word, Mac.”” The big hand of the captain of the eleven gripped the coach's shoulder with painful “Look here, let’s go to a quiet place. I want prer sure to have a long talk with you fei S JAMES STARBUCK, of Lambert, Starbuck & Co., brokers, swung through the hall of the Metropolitan Club two men to whom he nodded gazed after him “Jim Starbuck certainly keeps his shape,”’ observed one with a tinge of envy. ‘ Doesn't look any older than he did when he was in New Haven playing football nineteen or twenty years ago.” “Takes care of himself, I imagine,”’ replied the other. “We all should, I suppose. Still, he has a build worth taking care of. Wonderful specimen. Always was.” Starbuck in the meantime was making his way upstairs to a private dining room, where, seated at table, he found a group of men awaiting him. They were all of about his age, with the exception of a man who was verging upon sixty, if indeed he had not attained that age. Unquestionably he was the strong figure at this table Starbuck seemed slightly embarrassed as he turned to this man, ignoring for the moment all the rest “I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Cullen. I had to go to a meeting and we got into all sorts of a mess. I hope you didn’t wait for me.” A gleam shot across the gray eyes of the older man. The eyes were wolfish; in fact the whole impression of the man was vulpine “That's all right, Starbuck. We had our oysters. So don't flatter yourself that you held us up.” Starbuck flushed but said nothing as he drew out his chair, nodding in response to the salutations of the rest of the company about the table When Darius Cullen gave a dinner which was not frequently —it meant that something was to be doing in Wall Street. Those who were invited were entitled to the understanding that they were declared in on the thing. It was Starbuck’s first dinner with the Wall Street magician. Everyone else present this night could say the same thing. One or two of them had known the man only by reputation—which was not a wide one, not a newspaper reputation. He was one of those men who grow rich and powerful without gaining great fame or notoriety, or both. And he was rich; and he was powerful—extremely so. “‘No,"' Quavered the Little Man; Talk was more or less halting throughout the various courses. Cullen was inclined to be silent and the rest took cue from him. Yates, a Harvard man who knew Starbuck quite well, smiled at him across the table. “What do you think of your eleven this year?” “En?” “The Yale team. The papers say that judging from her first game she looks to be stronger than in years.” “Oh!” Starbuck laughed. “Is that so? I haven't fol- lowed football much in recent years. Been too infernally tied up with things.” “Good thing to forget when you're through with col- lege,” observed Cullen. “I've got a nephew up in Yale. Only thing he knows appears to be football. Well, I went to work when I was thirteen.” “Is that so?"’ Starbuck gazed upon the man with in- terest designed to be flattering. “‘ You certainly didn’t lose anything, sir, by keeping away from college.” Cullen’s eyes closed and opened. “It isn’t often I work in with a lot of youngsters,” he said, lighting a cigar and drawing back his chair; “but here’s a case where I want action and enthusiasm.” There was a general leaning forward of his guests. “What do you all think of Blauvelt Coal and Iron common stock.” “Selling low, isn’t it?’’ ventured Yates. Cullen’s shaggy brows lowered. “What difference does that make?”’ No one answered. “It isn’t what a stock is selling at,’’ Cullen went on; “it’s what the potential value of the property is and what the stock could sell at.” There was a chorus of assent. “Quietly, I’m interested in Blauvelt,”’ went on the cold, level voice, “and I'm not content with the stock as it is.” Starbuck interposed: “Isn’t it about where it should be, Mr. Cullen? The stock has never paid dividends, and when there has been November 20,1920 anything but a deficit after the payment of charges the earnings have been very small.” Darius Cullen’s eyes turned slowly to the man. “Does that mean you’re not interested, Starbuck?” “Why—why—no; I was merely asking.” Cullen shrugged slightly. “Now there are ten brokerage firms represented here. I’ve picked you fellows to get a movement on the stock.” “A pool, you mean?” asked one. «herrea. ihe % tere igs Se eet Me “You've Nothing Against Me" “A pool, yes.” “You'll manage it?”’ “Yes; certainly. I said I wanted that stock up—way up. That’s where it’s going. Now, Starbuck, I’m doing the others no injustice when I say of all the younger bro- kerage firms Lambert, Starbuck & Co. stands high. You'll recall we were associated in Raritan two years ago, with no loss to you.” Starbuck, who feared he had displeased the great man, laughed, reassured. “Quite the contrary, sir.” “How about twenty-five thousand shares among us? You all in?” All declared that they were, whereat Cullen drew a pencil and pad from his pocket. “Starbuck and I will work pretty close together on this. Starbuck’s firm will be the floor manager. So I suggest his firm take five thousand shares. I'll take three thousand.” He wrote rapidly and then, calling off the various firms represented, he gave them their buying commitments of a two-months’ agreement. “All right; there’s twenty-five thousand shares of Blauvelt Common accounted for. Begin to-morrow; on margin, of course.” “Can we let it be known you are interested, sir?” asked Yates. “My broker will be buying, won’t he?” “Of course he will, and that'll be enough.” Starbuck rose. “Thank you very much, Mr. Cullen. I imagine the Street is in for a bear killing.” ““Well’’"—a dart of humor crossed the gray eyes ‘we'll see.” A week later Blauvelt was selling at forty. The last week in October saw the stock at eighty. “We've got to go at it still stronger, Starbuck.” Cullen leaned back in his chair in the private office of Darius Cullen & Co. and nodded at the younger man. (Continued on Page 38) em

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 29 -— Styleplus Clothes Trade Mark Reg America’s quality clothes at medium prices Men are seeking to escape from extreme prices. Yet no one wants to do it at the expense of the style and the quality of his clothes. In exact response to this Fall’s special demand stand Styleplus—reasonably priced, perfectly styled, all wool clothes tailored for long wear and guaranteed to give entire satisfaction. Every season more men turn to Styleplus, finding in them everything they demand from good clothes and yet offering an appreciable saving in the price. The great Styleplus reputation is built on that ser- vice and you can profit from it on your new Fall suit and overcoat. Henry Sonneborn & Co., Inc., Baltimore, Md. Trade rem STYLEPLUS ~The big name in clothes

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30 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 EVERYBODY’S BUSINESS A Food and Haulage Economy N THESE unsettled days of readjustment there I is one angle of the food problem that has re- ceived too lit- tle attention. One DECORATION Br w. Ss. By Floyd W. Parsons RICHTER of the most neces sary, and yet the cheapest, things in the world is water. Notwith- standing this fact, we devote the largest part of the nation's transpor tation facilities to hauling water, in one combination or another, from place to place. Of all transportation wastes, none ap- pears so futile as this handling and hauling of water, and still no great loss holds forth more promise of being easily elimi nated All of the vege tables that are commonly used for food contain from sixty-five to ninety-five per cent of water. It is likewise true that the fruits we eat here in the United States con tain onanaverage about eighty-five per cent of water here fore Ww he n generally eliminated, and there would be a material saving in the present charges for cold storage. The process would also create a wider range of vegetable foods and so provide a better diet for the people. Dehydration is not a new art, for the process has been known and practiced for cen- turies. In factitis the oldest method of food preserva- tion known to the human race. In its proper applica- tion, dehydration removes the sur- plus water from food without de- stroying the cel- lular tissues or impairing the en- ergy values. It is a business that people have dab- bled in for gen- erations, and yet, especially here in the United States, the industry has received com- paratively little thought and less encouragement. The difficulties that have been met up to the present time are not at all insur- mountable. The principal criticism has related to the palatability of the dehydrated foods, and this trouble vegetables or fruits are shipped with their water content remaining in them the transpor- tation companies are handling more water than food, and the purchaser must pay the heavy charges incidental to If we could only perfect plans to take the water out of the vegetables and fruits before they are shipped and then let the householder put the neces- sary water back into them after the foods are received in this wasteful practice the kitchen, a large national economy would result A fresh tomato contains 94.3 per cent water, while the balance is mostly carbohydrates, with a little mixture of protein, fat, fiber and ash. When the water is taken out of a tomato in commercial practice the process is called dehy- dration and the fomato then contains only about seven per cent water in its composition. One Federal investiga- tor recently showed that, so far as food value is concerned, one pound of dehydrated tomatoes is equivalent to ten two-pound cans of solid-packed tomatoes containing a During the war a case of canned tomatoes costing $2.60in California brought little more than five per cent solids seven dollars laid down in Havre, France. An equivalent amount of dried tomatoes selling for twenty-six cents a pound in California cost only 40.5 cents in France. It is evident therefore that the saving through dehydration amounted to more than six dollars a case In their fresh state the following vegetables contain water in the proportion named: Beets, 87.5 per cent; cab- bage, 91.5; carrots, 88.2; celery, 94.5; corn, 75.4; let- tuce, 94.7; peas, 74.6; potatoes, 78.3; spinach, 92.3; and turnips, 89.6. When subjected to dehydration these foods contain no more than ten per cent water. One in- vestigation showed that one pound of the following vege tables dried is equivalent to these weights of the same vegetables when fresh: Beans, 10.4 pounds; spinach, 13.3 pounds; potatoes, 4.4 pounds; cabbage, 12 pounds; tomatoes, 13.3 pounds; and carrots, 6.6 pounds. When dried to a moisture content of eight per cent one ton of fresh green beans weighs only 250 pounds; cabbage, 215 pounds; carrots, 292 pounds; corn, 465 pounds; lettuce, 114 pounds; peas, 350 pounds; potatoes, 450 pounds; and tomatoes, 125 pounds. After beipg properly dried, beans are reduced to one-fifth of their original volume, while potatoes are reduced to less than one-half and tomatoes to less than one-fifteenth of their original volume. The average can used as a container for vegetables and fruits requires the use of from five to seven ounces of tin plate. Canned goods never contain less water than the fresh food and frequently contain an even higher per- centage. This accounts for the fact that when a ton of fresh peas is canned and prepared for shipment the total weight of the ninety-three cases of cans amounts to 4291 pounds. The weight of this same quantity of peas, dehy- drated and properly packed for shipment, would weigh less than 475 pounds. The average can of fruit contains about twenty-one ounces of the food substance and eight ounces of sirup. Furthermore, as previously stated, the fruit contains on an average more than eighty-five per cent water. For example, a ton of fresh peaches, after being prepared for canning, weighs 1500 pounds. This quantity of peaches contains 1321 pounds of water and only 179 pounds of solid matter. As to food units, these peaches average 220 calories a pound. Now, taking 1500 pounds of dehydrated peaches, we find that this quantity contains only 285 pounds of water, while it has 1215 pounds of solid food matter. A pound of the dried peaches will contain 962 calories All of the foregoing makes it plain that a great saving in packing, handling and transportation charges results from food dehydration. In addition to the saving in weight, there is a saving in bulk amcunting to from fifty to eighty per cent. However, there are other advantages that would attend the more common use of food dehydration. As con- ditions now exist, it generally happens that if there is a very large crop of a certain product one year the price of the article is forced to a low level, with the result that in the following year the farmers raise less of this particular product, and then there comes a scarcity and high prices for the article. With dehydration the surplus of the prod- uct could be saved and the farmer would not have to force his goods on the market at an inopportune time and thereby break prices. The consumer would profit because the waste of a fluctuating crop and unstable prices would be eliminated, It is likewise true that the wide practice of dehydration throughout the United States would save a large part of the fifty per cent of fruits and vegetables now grown in this country which never reach the consumer. Potato culls, instead of being thrown away, as now sometimes happens, would be first dehydrated and then manufac- tured into flour of a kind used largely by European nations. Losses by crushing or spoilage during shipment would be has been due to carelessness in the practice of the art and in cooking the dried foods rather than to any fault or deficiency in the theory or practical operation of the process. When food is properly dehydrated it gradually loses its water, but does not give up its color or flavor or have its cellular structure impaired. When the water has been removed the stored food materials and salts remain in concentrated form. Such drying of food does not decrease its nutritional value. Furthermore, if dehydration is practiced while the products are still sound and fresh the flavors of the foods are conserved intact. Under no circumstances should the process of drying be so severe or complete as to remove all of the water. From five to ten per cent of the water should be left in the food, otherwise the dehydrated products will absorb water too slowly when the householder is soaking them preparatory to cooking the products. In other words, the presence of a small water content in the dried goods greatly speeds up the replacement of the water removed by dehydration. But it is a fact that if more than ten per cent of water is left the food becomes liable to slow deterioration, due to, oxidative changes and the action of molds and bacteria. The American soldiers in France were fed largely on de- hydrated foods, and the quality and flavor of these foods were generaily satisfactory. Some of the boys tell me they did not relish the dehydrated potatoes, but liked most of the other vegetables and fruits about as well as they did the fresh goods. Not all of the army cooks were A-1 chefs, so it is possible that a part of the fault lay in the cook- ing. On the other hand, foods can be easily spoiled in the process of dehydration if a lack of care is exercised by the manufacturer. When the drying is begun at too high a temperature or is carried on too rapidly, vegetables are so changed that they will not readily absorb water. Sometimes the dehydrated foods taste as if they had been scorched and this is due to the application of too high a temperature to the fresh foods at the commencement of the process. Experience has shown that the best practice is first to subject the fresh green goods to a temperature not exceeding 120 degrees and an atmosphere relatively high in humidity; then in carrying on the process the temperature is increased and the humidity reduced. Various processes are used in preparing dehydrated or desiccated foods. The art has been further advanced in (Continued on Page 32) ee ee ee — eee

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST “ba, CADILLAC OARD oF THE We 7) ae? “The workmanship and finish on the Cadillac are equal to anything extant,’ whether it be a product of Europe or America.” HE full force of this striking statement from an eminent English authority will be instantly apparent to anyone at all familiar with the fine motor cars of Europe. Its chief interest and importance consists in the fact that it places the Cadillac on a parity of excellence with the best European cars of very much higher price, whose repu- tation has rested upon the very points now conceded to the Cadillac. Several of these cars have, indeed, sold hitherto for as much as three times the price of the Cadillac; but the same writer, in another part of his editorial, admits that the Cadillac has broken down the wall of prejudice existing in England against American cars. “By reason of its up-to-date design,” he says, “excellence of material and workmanship, and fine performance on the road, it has for some considerable time been generally accepted as one of the finest, if not the finest, of American models imported into this country.” Again, this same frank admirer corroborates the opinion of American army officers and observers generally, in pronouncing the Type 59 an even greater car than the great war Cadillac. From The Motor—the National Motor Car Journal of Great Britain —of August 4, 1920 He lays stress on Cadillac progress and development during the past two years, emphasizing the experience gained in arduous war services, and pointing out that in many respects — including coachwork and greater driving comfort and luxury—the Cadillac shows marked advance over its own previous high standards. He refers again and again to the beauty of the Cadillac and its enhanced charm of appearance, speaking of it in one instance as “giving the impression of a tasteful traveling boudoir on wheels.” The highly desirable changes of the past two years in the Cadillac, he quite properly describes as “the natural and considered outcome of extended experience.” “Regardless of price or size,” he concludes, “the Model 59 Cadillac approaches the ideal (of perfection) as closely as any other car on the market today.” With distinguished foreign observers pro- nouncing the Cadillac the equal of their own costliest productions, which far exceed it in price, what need is there for us to impress upon appreciative Americans that the Type 59 Cadillac represents the greatest monetary motor car value in the world today? bs 31 CADILLAC MOTOR CAR COMPANY? DETROIT, MICHIGAN?

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(Continued frem Page 30) Germany than in any other country. During the last twenty years the industry has grown in Germany from a few small plants to upward of a thousand more or less important factories. One authority states that the total quantity of potatoes alone dried in Germany in 1917 ex- ceeded the total crop raised in the United States that year. Such a fact helps to explain how Germany maintained her food supplies when practically cut off from the rest of the world Of the different processes used in drying foods the most common methods employ kilns, tunnels and specially de- signed machines. When a kiln is used the vegetables are laid on a perforated floor to a depth of about six inches and the heat from a stove below passes up through the layer, carrying away the moisture, which goes off through a ventilator in the roof. The food on the floor must be turned over from time to time. In the tunnel system the green goods are placed on screens or racks through which a strong current of warm air is blown. In most cases the heat is supplied by coils of steam pipe and the air is moved by electric fans. In both the tunnel and kiln systems there is a lack of physical control of conditions which tends to turn out a product which is not uniform in quality. In the more scientific methods of dehydration, where certain types of machines are used, the operator has per- fect control of the temperature, humidity and rate of move- ment of the air. Foods dried in such machines retain all their original color and flavor and reabsorb water readily when being soaked preparatory to cooking. A few manu- facturers use the vacuum process, whereby the green goods are dried on shelves placed in chambers where the at- mospheric pressure has been materially reduced. In all these methods the use of too high a temperature and air that is too dry tends to destroy the cellular structure of the foods. Summing up, dehydration is a process that must be carried on scientifically. It is safe to say that when our surplus foods are dehydrated by individuals and corpora- tions that employ as much care in the operation of the process as the big bakers now employ in baking bread, there will be little complaint on the part of consumers concern- ing the palatability of such foods. No one need expect that dehydrated foods will now or ever supplant canned goods in the public’s favor. Can- ning is a simple and practical process that permits food values to be transported into any climate and yet remain in perfect condition even when exposed to the elements. But when it comes to economy in transportation, dehy drated foods afford us an opportunity to effect great savings. It is a further fact that foods properly dried will remain in satisfactory condition though stored for years, Great Britain, during the Boer War, purchased large quantities of dehydrated food from factories in Canada and the United States. When the war in South Africa ended one of these manufacturers was left with several thousand pounds of such food on his hands, Americans had not been educated to use this kind of goods, so the manufacturer carefully put his dried product in barrels, which were paraffined and stored away. When the World War started in 1914 this same manufacturer hauled out his barrels of food that had been stored for a dozen years this food to the British Government for its Reports indicate that the food was in and sold soldiers in France every way satisfactory. So far as investigations have been able to determine, dehydrated foods possess all the essential properties of fresh foods, They promote growth and are antiscorbutic. No sensible person would suggest, however, that dehydra- tion should be applied to vegetables and fruits that can be purchased fresh and at a low price in a near-by market, The chief field for dehydration is in saving surplus crops and in cutting down the waste in hauling water that can easily be left at the base of production and replaced at the point of consumption. It goes without saying that dehy- dration will succeed best in those regions where crops are abundant and can be previously contracted for at a fair, fixed price, Though the great future for dehydration of foods in the United States lies in the building up of a big commercial industry equaling in size our present great canningindustry, there are unlimited possibilities for the expansion of the practice of drying foods on our farms and in our homes, The amateur should bear in mind a few fundamental facts when engaging in this work. Most vegetables can be suc- cessfully dried and fruits rich in sugar are especially adapted to the process. Meats also can be easily dehydrated, but in so treating them it is particularly necessary to keep all flies away. Primitive peoples were familiar with this fact and used to tie their strips of meat to the branches of trees thirty feet or more above the ground, out of the fly zone, Various types of mechanical dryers for home use can be obtained in almost any locality. Many people build their own small portable dryers, which can be used on a kitchen stove or in connection with a special furnace. Artificial drying with mechanical appliances is far more cleanly and sanitary than drying by the sun. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Before starting the process the products should be thoroughly washed and drained and all inedible portions removed. The accepted practice is to cut the food in small pieces or thin slices before placing it on the drying rack. One authority suggests that corn should be blanched on the cob for five minutes, then cold-dipped and cut from the cob before drying. When a patent dryer is used the heat should be carefully regulated with the thermometer. The product should be turned frequently and when finished should feel dry on the outside but should be slightly soft inside. Under no circumstances should the food be dried until brittle, for if it is allowed to become hard or crisp it will not absorb water readily when wanted for use. If the products appear to be too moist they should be returned to the racks for another period of drying. The dried foods should be put into glass or pasteboard containers, and one expert suggests that once a day for three or four days the foods should be removed from the containers and poured back and forth several times so that moist and dry particles are brought into contact with each other and a more even condition of dryness is secured. Rules and time-tables for drying can be obtained from the Government or other authoritative source. When preparing dried foods for cooking it is usually advisable to soak the products overnight. This soaking should be carried on in a cool place to prevent souring. It is best to use enough water to soak properly and still leave sufficient for cooking, as it is generally better to cook in the same water, thus preserving the flavor. In the case of a few vegetables that have a strong or bitter taste, it is advisable to change the water. It is best to use from three to four cupfuls of water for each cupful of dried product. The color of the food is improved by the addition of a small amount of soda in the water in which the dried material is cooked. The palatability is improved by high seasoning with cheese, celery, mustard, paprika, and so on. In the cooking of dried fruits, lemon, stick-cinnamon and whole cloves should be added. Though this country is already producing more than 500,000,000 pounds of dried fruits and vegetables each year, the greater part of this production comes from Cali- fornia and consists of the output of the big factories that are now producing dehydrated fruits. In three-fourths of our states no worth-while attempt is being made at the present time to develop this promising industry. In the meantime the country is confronted with serious transpor- tation difficulties. We require twenty railroad cars to carry the same amount of farm and orchard products when canned that could be transported in a single car if first dried and then packed closely in inexpensive paper cartons, It is a thought well worth remembering that every car- load of canned goods contains 10,000 pounds of tin and 14,- 000 pounds of lumber in addition to the food. This gives us something to think about while we are considering the high cost of living and the lack of railroad equipment. At the same time there must be an adequate market for dried foods or the industry cannot develop. The only way we can provide such a market is to make these dehydrated products popular with the people. This end can only be gained through g campaign of education that will break down current prejudices and at the same time teach the cooks of our land the proper methods for making the dishes prepared from the dried foods as attractive and palatable as some of the dishes now prepared from the fresh products, Time-Saving Business Ideas HEN a fellow can advance from a twelve-dollar-a- week shoe clerk’s job in an unimportant store in a small town to the position of general manager and part owner of a large corporation operating two factories, and a dozen stores located in several of the country’s greatest cities, it is safe to assume that he is possessed of business qualities of a high order of merit. Energy and ambition are splendid virtues, but they will not carry a man to the top unless he also has original ideas of a practical nature and sufficient courage and initiative to transform his theories into actual working plans. Looking out over the Hudson River from a big office in a New York skyscraper is the busy general manager who twenty years ago was selling shoes to small-town folk and wondering if fate would ever be so kind as to permit him just to visit the nation’s chief metropolis with its high buildings, famous stores and much-advertised theaters. The country clerk reached his present position of importance through the constant practice of time-saving methods. Unlike thousands of executives to-day who talk loudly about the present inefficiency of the average worker and yet only get in two or three hours of real work out of a pos- sible ten, this busy manager follows the old-fashioned plan of actually working harder at his regular job than any of his subordinates. He has managed to keep his health and vigor without devoting the chief part of his time to the game of golf. He has refused to allow himself to become one of that clan of big bosses who never do more than ren- der a few decisions a day and yet are so occupied with November 20,1920 mysterious business that they are inaccessible even to important members of their own organizations. The writer who must go forth with a dragnet to try and capture a few business ideas that are worth passing along finds his werk transformed into a labor of joy when he meets an executive who, though noted for his accomplish- ments, is simple and direct in his methods. In the case here referred to I found management and men -working together with the smoothness and precision of a single per- fect machine. In my rather hasty survey of this mana- ger’s methods the following facts seem to be most interesting and to hold forth greatest promise of being adaptable and helpful. First, let me cite a few of his over- head principles which have been used effectively in his daily work: Any man whois reluctant or unwilling to learn new ways is an impediment to the progress of a business organiza- tion. Instances are on record where men have met with unlimited success in one field and yet have failed dismally in a new position simply because of their insistence on putting into practice the same business habits that had served them so well in their former jobs. In one case a man of high reputation and having an enviable record of accomplishment in a certain field was employed at a fancy salary by a corporation operating in another terri- tory and catering to a different clientéle. The second com- pany barely saved itself from ruin by finally giving the new and highly advertised boss a substantial payment of several thousand dollars to cancel his contract and re- linquish his job. His individual business methods had become so fixed in his nervous system that he found him- self unable to change sufficiently to meet successfully the new situation. This does not mean that-all fixed habits are undesirable in our commercial life. Close attention to details, the practice of concentration and the art of making definite and prompt decisions all become habits in a short time and add to one’s chances of attaining success. Each work- man must guide his response by the demands of the pres- ent day and he can only get ahead by adapting himself to change, growth and progress. Still it must not be over- looked that when a good habit is automatized the faculties of the person are released for matters requiring careful thought. Fatigue is often lessened materially by an in- dividual’s habits which make his movements exact and properly timed. Habit ceases to be a business virtue when it limits the output of an individual and prevents him from achieving his maximum accomplishment. The recent war caused many men to discover that they were doing only half as much as they could do because they had formed the habit of energizing at a low degree of intensity. Thousands of business men now attribute their breakdown in health to overwork, when as a matter of fact their illness has come from a long struggle under a load of bad physiological habits. Habits of ease have always been more readily acquired than habits of work. As a general rule, ability to save time is the most accu- rate gauge of personal efficiency. The manager in question proved to be a past master in the art. He permits no ideas worth keeping to slip away. Each important business thought that comes to his mind is jotted on a small card and dropped inté his desk drawer. At the end of the day the cards are gone over and the ideas that have been adopted and attended to are placed in the inactive file. Not more than ten or twelve cards with these daily re- minders are permitted to accumulate in the desk drawer. It is demanded that each employee shall develop con- ciseness and brevity in his work. Though not a fixed rule, it is generally understood by all employees that not more than one hundred and fifty words shall be devoted to telling any story. The boss says that the tale of the crea- tion of the world was recited in less than five hundred words, and most business problems can be explained in at least one-fifth that many. Each worker is advised that he must know what he wants to say before he starts and that he must stick by his decisions after once they are made. This policy has tended greatly to shorten the average time of interviews between members of the organization. When a department head wants an office boy he simply lifts his telephone receiver slowly twice. The operator at the automatic switchboard sees the signal and sends in a messenger. When a company official desires to send a telegram he lifts the receiver three times, and the tele- phone girl rings for a telegraph messenger. With this plan no executive need interrupt his work or stop dictating to signal for an office boy or messenger, and his secretary need not be burdened with the task. All conferences are held the first thing after arrival at the office each morning. This plan was initiated because the big boss found that when he attempted to dispose of his mail the first thing in the morning he was embarrassed and delayed by many interruptions from underofficials. In the plan now used suci: conferences as are necessary are held at a time when everybody feels fresh. During the day notes are made for subjects to be discussed at the next conference the following morning. (Concluded on Page 123)

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 33

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against a wall and left a shell init. You can bet I'll never take him out again. I don’t want that kind af man’s money.” Finally we warmed up a little, and I dis- these fellows had been sol- explained that they had been ap army rifles in drill and had covered that rhe allowed to sr diers. got used to it. They recognized discipline, and as soon as they found out that I was boss and was going to stay boss they obeyed me to the letter It turned out that they got a pretty fair bag of birds. I have ever seen a hunter so anxious to apologize for being a fool, and I believe he was taught a lesson But giving lessons like that is not a pay- ing business. That never-do-it-again prom- ise doesn’t do much good after some poor guide or hunter is shot or a gunning skiff is ruined As these boys were leaving I explained to them the lifelong rule that we baymen follow, and I hope some other careless gun- ner will read it. We never snap a gun, even if it is our own gun, until the breech has been opened and we have looked down the barrels It is better still never to snap a gun at all It is of no benefit to the shooter and it only injures the gun I could point out a dozen accidents some fatal—that could have been pre- vented if that rule had been followed. The hard part, though, is that they don’t remem- ber until something has happened — and the next time I have somebody else to watch Most of my gunning, fishing and boating work has been done in the Great South Bay, near which I was born. I have done guiding in the field, though, and have gone after big game with old hunters who wanted to have me along. Good friends have got me jobs all over the country at duck shooting clubs. This very winter I am chief guide at a marsh club of wealthy sportsmen near the coast in South Georgia. I speak from long experience. Gunners, just like other people, are di- vided into two classes—men with sense and those who haven't a grain of solid judgment in their heads. If a man has good, hard, common sense he is not dan- gerous, even if he has had no experience with a gun. He will follow instructions and wil! learn to be safe—-if not to shoot. There are others who will be bumble-headed fools as long as they live. They never will realize that there is danger in guns and boats. They never give a thought to the safety of their companions I knew a stage comedian once who de- liberately shot a hole through the bottom of a gunning skiff with a pistol just to have a joke on the guide. To this day he tells how funny it was to see the gang wade ashore——he waded, too. He never went out gunning in our part of the bay again. Dangerous Company Right now I could name a dozen men who have been shooting on the Great South Bay for fifteen years who couldn't get a guide to go out with them if they paid one hundred dollars a day. They are the fellows to blame for a lot of the severe laws put on real sportsmen. Innocently I took out one of those men one day. He had a fine gun, and I picked it up from the floor of the boat to examine it. I discovered two loaded shells in it—and the safety catch off. On the excuse that the wind waan't right and there was no use in going out I turned back and landed him on the dock. “Well, if I don’t go out, don't pay,”” he said I let him know I didn’t want his money at all. “Well, say,”” he insisted, “I'd be willing to pay anyway if you could show me some- thing else to shoot.” “The only things I’ve seen round the shore here,”’ I told him, “are some star- lings in that oak tree over there.” I said this as a joke, of course. The tree was in the corner of a man’s yard, with children playing round. I turned to my work of fixing up the boat. In a few minutes I heard shots going at a great rate. I looked round to see what it was all about, and, I give you my word, here came that man with a string of fifteen dead starlings! He just had to kill some- thing, and was all enthusiastic about hav- ing murdered a bag of these little birds you know, I THE SATURDAY EVENING POST FOOL FOLKS (Continued from Page 10) I did not report that man to the game warden, though I should have done so. He got it, and got it good, a little later on, I hear. I did order him out of my boathouse, though, and told him I didn’t guide for that kind of a sportsman. The automobile, I believe, is responsible for the increase of fool gunners. They can come out from New York in a little more than an hour, park their cars near the dock, and after a day’s shooting get back home in time for a late supper. Most of them, though, spend two days. They like to sleep in the shack or boat and eat shore cooking—roughing it, they call it. This easy access to the hunting grounds holds good all over the country. As a result there are more people of all kinds gunning now than ever before. Naturally the smaller shore birds, such as the several varieties of snipe and plover, are getting searcer. But there seems to be no falling off in wild duck, geese and brant. In fact last year was the best season we have ever had. Good strong local laws have pro- tected the quail and partridge, which do not come under the Federal Migratory Bird Law. In the old days—the ones I like to talk about--there were not so many gunners, but the parties stayed longer. Also they knew more about shooting. They were real sportsmen. There are still a lot of real gunners, but the number of fool gunners has grown too fast on account of easy transportation. Most of that class go out for a lark more than out of a real love of shooting. It is not at all unusual for me to get a telephone message that some fellow wants to come down to the bay to get over the effects of a drunk. Sportsmen of Other Days The Smart Aleck sportsmen think we baymen are queer characters, and they like to hear us talk so that they can laugh about it on the way home and describe us in the clubs. Oh, I know! But we are not as big fools as some of them think. I am paid well for being a quaint character, and often have some good laughs myself aftér they have gone. I can be just as quaint and picturesque as they like—for ten dollars a day. I don’t believe some of the comedians who come out here get more than that. If they do they are overpaid. It is not so very long ago that it took nearly a month to arrange a duck-shooting trip. Our section of the shore is just thirty- two miles from New York City. Before the Long Island Railroad was built a stage ran from Brooklyn to Mineola. Another one connected with it there and came down to the South Shore, bringing the mails. It was quite a trip in those days. Many of the wealthy gunners used to drive all the way from New York in their own rigs, taking a full day. After exchanging letters and con- firming dates it was my duty to get sleeping accommodations for my parties. The tav- ern keepers were just as clone then as they are now in making it easy for the city fellows to spend their money. A certain millionaire in Wall Street, who died not long ago, used to come down to our place when a young man and make special arrangements by which he could shoot out the lights in the reflectors that hung round the walls in the barroom on the water front. He never hurt anybody, and was always willing to pay for the damage. In addition he always gave all present what they wanted to drink, and five dollars each. Strange to say, everybody liked shat man even as a gunner. Once he got out of the hotel and into a gunning boat he Was as careful as anybody — was a good shot, too. He would do all his drinking at night, but would never touch a drop while handling a gun. But my, what a time he and his friends would have in that old shellback tavern! I suppose it wouldn’t be fair for me to identify these old-time gunners. If I did you would recognize the family names in a minute. In those days I was as familiar with the names of the young men in the Four Hundred as I am to-day with people round the village. We didn’t have any game laws then, and we could go out at any time we pleased, and could kill as big a bag as we wanted. We didn't have any motor boats either. When the ice came in late winter and the sportsmen quit coming out we guides would shoot for the market, and it was a good living for us. I have made as high as forty dollars in a single day shooting hunter gulls—tern, some people call them—for the taxidermists. They used the wings cnd breast feathers for dressing women’s hats. All a guide had to do was find where blue- fish were running—hunter gulls always fol- low bluefish schools— and imitate a wounded bird by a peculiar whistle. The little gulls would flock to the cry and were killed by the hundred. The law put a stop to that, and it is a good thing. In our ignorance we would have exterminated the tern. They are plentiful now, under protection. The one thing that saved these birds was the law nage their use for hat decorations. As as there is a market for any kind of binds it is impossible to keep professional gunners from shooting them. I know, be- cause I have been a warden as well as a guide. The average bayman is narrow- minded, and he firmly believes that the ordinary game laws were made by edu- cated people to rob him of his bread and butter. In pointing out the fool practices that have cost many lives and have turned many strong men into cripples I naturally give most of my attention to duck and shore bird shooting. Duck shooting is more dangerous for green sportsmen than any other form of gunning on account of the gunners being so close together. In the field the hunters are scattered, and even if a gun should go off accidentally there is less dan- ger of an individual being hit. There is cer- tainly no boat to be put out of commission. In duck shooting, though, the guide and the sportsman—the word sportsman is al- ways used by baymen for the man who pays the expenses—sit close together in a small gunning skiff or a blind, built of reeds, on the bank. Often three or more gunners will insist on sitting in the same blind for com- pany. That is very dangerous, and I never permit it—one man to a guide is my rule. Then we have battery shooting. That is shooting from a sink box made to float on the surface of the open water with the aid of canvas wings held down by heavy weights made in the shape of duck decoys. These batteries are usually far from the shore. In a double battery—the usual kind—two gunners have to lie down be- side each other and rise to a sitting position to shoot when the ducks come in. ft is quite a job for an inexperienced man. Also it is tough shooting. In the Chesapeake Bay they have a battery box in which the gun- ner sits upright, ws Mao the guide keeping in sight with a power boat to pick up the killed birds. That i is the safest shooting that I khow of. It is impossible for a man to shoot himself, and all others are out of range. The big percentage of serious accidents in waterfowl shooting result from trans- ferring a gun from one boat to another, or a gunner in excitement reaching for his gun and pulling it toward him by the muzzle. A Common Cause of Accidents Another guide and myself once took out two young men for snipe shooting, separat- ing when we got to the marsh islands. Inci- dentally do not confound yellowleg shooting with the hunting of jacksnipe, as they are ealled in the West and South. The inland jacksnipe is walked up. The yellowleg is shot over decoys like » a This day we were after yiiveleen, and my sportsman and myself were well away — unfortunately so, it proved—when a sad accident happened to the other party. The guide had pulled up to a marsh bank, in range of a small salt pond, where he in- tended to put out his decoys and then sit in waiting on the grass. Both of them had crawled up the bank when the peculiar soft whistle of a snipe was heard overhead. The yellowleg will come to that call when imitated by a guide, and my friend got out his whistle. The young sportsman became excited and feverishly rushed back to the skiff, reaching for his gun, which lay in the forward part of the boat. Grasping it by the muzzle he yanked the weapon toward him and it went off. The full load of shot struck the young man just at the elbow, practically tearing his arm off. The guide, an ignorant man, didn’t know enough to make some kind of tourniquet and bind the arm above the elbow. When I got there an hour later the poor boy was near death November 20, 1920 ‘ from loss of blood. We got him ashore after a long pull, and the doctor amputated his arm. But it was too late. He died that night—had really bled to death in the gunning skiff. That accident was talked about in the bay for months. It was told to every gun- ner. Now you would think such a terrible end to a day of sport would act as a lesson, wouldn’t you? But it didn’t. In the few years that have followed I have known of six hunters being shot dead or badly wounded from pulling a gun out of a boat by the muzzle. I have a regular job as guide for a party of gunners who have a boat of their own—a large boat with a cabin—on which they can sleep and eat. I have been guiding them for ten years. At the very outset I made a hard and fast rule, which they agreed to, and it has worked well. It is forbidden to transfer a loaded gun from one boat to another under any circum- stances—from the skiff to the big cabin boat, for instance. The moment a small boat pulls alongside and the gunner passes up his gun the man receiving it opens the breech and looks in the barrels. If a loaded shell is found the guilty one is fined ten dollars, which goes to the support of the club. We have never collected but one fine, and that from a guest. We also have a rule that when a boat is going from one point to another all guns must be laid on the bottom against the gunwale—long- ways—and that none must be loaded. We only allow guns to be loaded when we anchor and get ready to shoot. Rules to Insure Safety This little club is made up of men ex- perienced in shooting—now—and who seem to have common sense. We have never had an accident, and I don’t think we ever will. They used to drink freely at times on the big boat, but by common consent no one ever took a bottle or flask in a duck boat or skiff. We have found that hot coffee is much better than whisky or brandy when a man gets chilled while duck shooting. The vacuum bottle beats all the whisky bottles in the world for that. Leaning a gun against the wall, whether loaded or not, is a common cause of acci- dents. Even if unloaded, the gun is likely to fall and break the stock. If loaded some- one is liable to be shot. Two years ago I had a new man out. We went in that night to the home of another guide who had made arrangements to board us, and this man leaned his gun against the door facing on the outside of the house. I came in a little later, and by luck happened to see the gun. Just as I did so k heard someone call a child—a little girl. I saw the knob turn and knew that the child was about to open the door from the inside. Had she done so she would have been shot—I am certain of it. I made a jump for the gun and caught it by the stock just in time. Already it was slipping. I looked in it and found both barrels loaded and the safety catch off! That was the finish of our hunting trip. To this day no guide will risk taking that man out. Down in Georgia last winter I saw a very handsome gun broken by being stood up against the wall. The gun belonged toa very wealthy man who had not been trained in the care of weapons. Frequently he had been warned not to lean his gun against the wall. It was not loaded—no gun is ever loaded in that clubhouse—and he seemed to think that made everything all right. Just the same, as we expected, someone in getting up from the table struck the gun with his foot and it fell to the floor, break- ing the stock in half at the grip. Careless- ness had ruined a two hundred dollar gun— a brand-new one. In that club, by the way, we have made a set of rules that might be well for others to follow. Due to the number of green sportsmen who come there as guests we decided that to prevent any possible acci- dent we would prohibit the loading of guns within a certain zone. A fence sur- rounds the big yard at a distance of one hundred yards from the clubhouse en- trance. On each outside gate we have posted a notice that all guns must be examined and unloaded before coming into the yard. It has grown to be a custom for each incoming hunter, upon approaching (Concluded on Page 36)

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Wille z Oe the start of a perfect day OUR whole day depends on the start you get in the morning. Therefore, your morning shave is much more than a mere matter of disposing of whiskers. What does your shave do to your morning morale? The destinies of nations hang on shaves; any man can be a better diplomat after a pleasant shave. Home life, business life— in fact, the sum total of human happiness —is affected by the kinds of shaves men get in the morning. Success itself is a matter of shaves. So, what kind of safety razor do you use? Wesay, absolutely without blushing, that every man in the world ought to use an Ever-Ready Safety Razor. (Advertise- ment.) It would be a better world. Ever-Ready users start their day with an advantage over other men. The Ever-Ready gives them an exhilarating exhibition of efficiency. er- Safety Razor They get clean, quick, comfortable shaves. And this is not simply fancy ad- writing. There is actually something in the fine edge of the Ever-Ready Radio Blade that makes it act different Fd from other razors in the presence of hard Success itself beards. Ever-Ready is a matter of shaves owners will tell you: THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 35 “I tried four other safety razors before I found Ever-Ready. There’s some- thing about adv cut easier and makes them last longer.”’ \ We know Zs what this mysterious something is, ofcourse. Itisn’taccidental. It’stheresult of things we have been doing to our blades for years, and, furthermore, of the war-dis- covered Radio process of blade treatment. the blades that makes them with an over men Even experimentally, isn’t it worth $1 to you to investigate Ever-Ready? We absolutely know that if we get three or four Ever-Ready shaves onto your face, you are our friend for life. Start your day with an Ever-Ready shave. Yes, still $1. A sturdy frame guaranteed for a lifetime, six Radio blades —all attractively cased. All $1. Make a mental note to buy the “Little Barber in a Box” ‘today —at all stores. Extra Blades 6 for 40c Sold the world over AMERICAN SAFETY RAZOR TRADE CORPORATION MARK Brooklyn, N. Y. eaGe Makers of the famous Ever-Ready Safety Razors and Ever-Ready Brushes Factories: New York Breoklyn Toronto London Ready

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36 (Conctuded from Page 34 the gate, to stop and throw the shells out of his gun. The only man who ever broke the rule was treated with such coolness that he cut his visit short. He has never been invited again The greenest of men are now careful to obey that notice. In the four yegrs of my connection with the club there has never been an accident—inside the grounds. It seems we are bound to have them some- times in the boats The main thing in working out these ideas of safety is to get the members so interested that each of them appoints him- self an inspector. Down there they look upon a breaking of the rules as downright discourtesy, just as if the offender had insulted the host. A good specimen of what I call fool folks out gunning is the man who monkeys with high explosives and dearly loves to tinker with his ammunition. Men who are sup- posed to be very learned in their business often do things like that. They seem to have no more judgment about guns than a child. My partner and friend, a guide for thirty years, took a man out last winter who was known to have had much experience as a shore-bird shooter. They were after snipe and plover. This man, by the way, is a lawyer, and is said to be a successful one. Starting for the marsh the lawyer re- marked to the guide that he had but eighteen shells loaded with Number 10 shot. “I've got some more, though, that I loaded myself with Number 8,” he said. “Loaded yourself—what kind of loads?”’ asked the guide. “Oh, three or four drams of ballistite.” “Of what?" asked the guide, laughing. “Of ballistite.” My friend looked at him to see if he were in earnest. “Well,” he said, passing it off as a joke, “when you get ready to shoot those just let me know and I'll get out of the boat.” The guide thought no more of the matter until the shooting got good. Suddenly the lawyer remarked that he had run out of Number 10 shot and would use his eights. Even then the guide didn’t pay any par- ticular attention. A snipe swung into the decoys and there was a big flash. The next thing the guide knew he felt a hard jolting pain in his side and found himself lying in the bottom of the skiff. He looked round, and the law- yer, bleeding from the nose and mouth, was holding his hands to his eyes and groaning. The gun had been blown to bits and the stock had struck the guide in the side. Luckily neither was permanently injured. That lawyer, a supposedly sensible man, had loaded a single shell with enough ballis- tite—one of the highest known explosive powders-to blow up two guns. When he said he had used four drams to the shell the guide naturally thought he was joking. He had used bailistite just as freely as we did black powder in the old days—had even guessed at the amount by pouring it in the palm of his hand! Monkeying With High Explosives Loading shells by hand with these new high explosive smokeless powders is a mighty risky thing. They all have a dif- ferent force, and a person who is not an expert should stay away from them. In the oid days of black powder it was customary for hunters and guides to load their own shells because it saved a lot of money. But not now. A guide never thinks of using anything but a machine-loaded shell put out by some reliable company. He is not a chemist and knows it. I have another friend, a guide, whose arm was shattered and his left hand withered for life by accidentally using a shell that had been inaccurately loaded. Ammuni- tion is the least expensive item of a hunting trip, and it is well not to monkey with it, In big-game hunting I have found that there is but one thing to remember— one important thing: Never fire at any moving object until you know absolutely what it is. The man who exclaims in grief, “I wouldn't have shot, but I thought ita deer,” has no excuse. He should have known it wasn’t a deer. Such things as colored’coats and red bandanna handkerchiefs round the neck help in a way, but they would nat be necessary if every hunter made sure of what he was shooting at. Still, nobody ever has been able to make a rule that will keep a THE SATURDAY man from getting excited—and that’s the pity of it. In the big-game country there are com- paratively few cases of a hunter acci- dentally shooting himself. The casualties happen to somebody else, and somebody at whom the rifleman has deliberately aimed, thinking him a wild animal. I am getting a little too old for quail and partridge shooting. Though I feel sure of being able to go as well as many of the young fellows, I find at the age of sixty- eight that it is just as well to save up my strength and not walk all day ose the woods and fields unless I have to. Besides, I always have preferred duck shooting to any other sport. Somehow it seems to give me more of a thrill. I can still feel the tingle of the blood when I see a bunch of canvasbacks drop their wings and head into the decoys. The last time I was out quail shooting we were going through a rough skirt of woods where the dogs had scented a covey. We moved round slowly, waiting for them to come to a point. The young man with me was a stranger—a guest of the club where I was working. I had not paid particular attention to him, because we hadn’t yet got up any birds, and I didn’t know how he shot. Some Close Calls One of the dogs came to a point, and I was just stepping over a rotten log in going to him when the man behind me tripped and fell face forward. His gun went off and the entire load passed between my legs, cutting a big gap out of the rotted log and making a path through the underbrush. When I had recovered from my fright I ex- amined his gun and found that he had been walking with his gun slung over his shoul- der, both barrels cocked and the safety off! When he fell the gun was thrown forward and went off when it struck the ground. That, I believe, is the narrowest escape I ever had. If I had taken a half step forward or backward my leg would have been shot off. I recall an accident a few years prior to that that has served as a valuable lesson when I relate it to other bird hunters. The dogs, after flushing a covey, were hunting out the single birds. An Irish setter had located one in front of us and was smellin round cautiously. We stood and waitec for him to make a point. He was so de- liberate and slow that my companion evi- dently got nervous. I happened to look over at him just as it happened. While waiting he was standing with his gun cocked and the muzzle resting on the toe of his shoe. It was too late for me to say anything. At the very moment I looked his fingers, nervously monkeying with the triggers, pulled one! he only thing that saved him from los- ing his entire foot was that the muzzle rested on the tip end of his big hunting shoe. That was blown completely away and he lost part of two toes, For years I have tried to pound it into hunters never to stand in a position of waiting for a shot with the muzzle of a gun down. If it accidentally goes off with the muzzle pointing in the air nobody will be hurt. And don’t think they'll never go off! Guns in the hands of the most experienced hunters sometimes go off in most unex- pected manners. I suppose all of you have read of hunters being shot by pulling a gun through a wire fence by the muzzle. I have never seen an accident like that, but I often have read of them. It is just as easy to get killed that way as it is to jump across a stream or a ditch with your gun cocked and unsafe. My forty-odd years as a guide have not been devoted entirely to gunning. In the closed seasons—that is to say, summer and spring—I work as a guide and pilot for fishing and boating parties. In fact boats are my first love. I am a boat builder and a licensed pilot for the waters round New York Bay. It was through my so-called expertness in boat construction that I was engaged during the war to do the woodwork on airplanes. Almost as many fatal accidents result from the mishandling of boats as from gun- ning. Salt-water fishing is really a branch of boating sport. The only knowledge re- quired for safety is in handling the boat. Inland the same thing applies, so far as danger is concerned. From what I have seen I believe that more foolish, irresponsible people under- take the handling of boats than guns. EVENING POST I know certain waters so well that I can find the channels and avoid the dangerous bars and reefs at night. Even so I fear them. At the same time I have seen men, utterly ignorant of danger, skimming gayly over stretches of water that I wouldn’t think of attempting to navigate in broad daylight. How they get away with it the Lord only knows. Some of these amateur sailors ought to be in an asylum for luna- tics. Every day or so I see men and boys, without the slightest knowledge of their engines or the channels, taking power boats out into the open water. And in nine cases out of ten they have with them helpless, trusting guests. The practice has grown worse since the gasoline motor came in. A man must know something to handle a sailboat. There is no law that I know of to prevent a man from navigating his own pleasure boat. It would probably be a great hard- ship if there was. I believe, though, that it would add a lot to his pleasure and to the safety of others if some kind of examination or instruction were given with his license. If you will remember, there were some rather cold days the first part of last Se tember. On one of them we had frost. Tt was on that morning that I was taking out a gunner for snipe. We had come out of a winding creek about daylight into the main waters of the bay and were skirting the edge of a big sand bar partly covered with eel grass. The low tide had left it exposed. I was steering when the gentleman with me tugged me by the leg to indicate that he had heard an unusual noise. I am a little deaf, and stooped over to hear what he said. “There’s somebody in trouble over there,” he shouted, pointing to the big sand bar. This bar is very dangerous to navigators, as it cannot be seen when the tide is up. The channel is marked by barrel buoys, however. I looked in the direction the gentleman was pointing and made out something like a boat out on the bar. I came about, made a circle and skirted closer to the edge. Presently we heard a woman calling. A man was waving his hat. I stopped my engine, and after getting as close to the sand as possible pulled on my gum boots and waded out to them. A small power boat—kicker ty -was stuck hard and fast in the sand. S it sat a man, a woman and a child of three years, all shivering. That early September wind cut like a knife. The child was blue from cold. “What are you doing here—how’d you get here?’ I asked. Innocents Afloat “We were coming across the bay and our boat struck bottom,” the man told me, just as calm as you please. ‘‘I trietl to go ahead but the farther I went the harder we stuck. Then my engine stopped and I have not been able to start it. I guess it’s full of sand,” I was so stumped for a moment that all I could do was stand there and stare at him. “How long have you been here?” I finally asked. “Since yesterday at three o'clock!” “Why didn’t you try to pull off when the tide came up?” “T haven't any oars,” he said. This was getting to be unbelievable. I was just about to ask about his anchor, when I saw it. That man had contrived an anchor out of part of an old stove grate. It wouldn't have held your hat in a blow. That was his complete equipment for emergency. “You mean to tell me,” I asked him, my dander getting the better of my pity, “that you took this lady and this baby out in a boat on the bay without oars or an anchor?” “Well, I thought it would be all right,” he said. “I had just bought the boat and wanted to give them a ride.” “And you didn’t know this bar was here?” “Why, no!” he answered, as if surprised at such a question. ‘How could I? You see, I'd never been out here before.” They hadn’t had a mouthful to eat or a drop of water. The boat was absolutely unprotected from the weather. They didn’t even have an oilskin. The child had suf- fered all night. I told them I would bring them something to eat. I waded back to our boat, took out the sandwiches and the vacuum bottle of hot coffee and fed them. That warmed them up considerably and November 20,1920 made the woman more cheerful. I also brought them an oilskin coat to cover up the child. I left them as comfortable as possible, telling them that I would have someone come for them at high tide. J never knew if the baby suffered any ill- ness as a result. They never wrote or came to see me. But that man should have suffered. Can you imagine a sensible man taking his wife and child out in a boat across tricky, shallow water without an oar, in ease of engine trouble, or an anchor? Don’t you think you would at least have asked someone about the course or have procured a chart? Can you blame me for enrolling that man in the list of fools who think they are sportsmen? Honestly, don’t you think something ought to be done to protect men like that—or at least their families? In October, a month which gives us some heavy blows, a man who owned a cottage at a summer resort some distance down the coast from us had some city friends out to dinner. About four o’clock in the afternoon he suggested that they take a sail in his new power boat to get up an appetite for the big meal. All agreed that it would be a dandy idea. Without further ado and with no seepeny A inspection they boarded the boat, got the engine started and were away, waving flags and yelling merry “ Aye, aye, sirs’’ to the shore. Necessary Precautions The self-made skipper and owner steered a direct course toward a sand dune between the ocean and the bay. The wind was breezing up in the southwest, but that meant nothing to him. Presently it began to blow hard, and the little boat was taking the waves gamely when it went out of sight of those ashore. In the wallow of what was now a pretty heavy sea the engine suddenly stopped. The skipper couldn’t understand that at all. With the boat rolling and pitch- ing he made an examination and found that he had come away without gasoline only a half gallon or so in the tank. And he had no oars! Also the party had no food or water! Despite the efforts of the amateur crew the tide and wind spun the helpless boat along until it was washed ashore on a small marsh island. The wind was then blowing a gale out of the southwest. A sailboat saw them, but could not take a chance on get- ting close. There was no life-saving station near. ‘ The next morning at daylight, when I first heard of the trouble, to asked to take a boat and try to rescue them. It was noon before we got them ashore. We had to bring them one at a time, as nothing but asmall boat could get near, and in the blow it was unsafe to handle it with more than one passenger. Those men had the appetite for the big meal all right. They had been there all night, numb with cold and hungry. In case these two incidents do not indi- cate the remedy I would suggest that no one should ever take a boat out on open water without first examining the engine and the supply of gasoline. Next he should see that oars and a good anchor are pro- vided, and that the cables are in good condition. A piece of rotten rope in a boat may cause a lot of trouble when a strong one is needed. Always he should carry a few sandwiches or canned goods and some fresh water. Having seen to that he should either pro- cure a chart—and know how to read it— or make inquiries from some old-timer as to a safe course to sail. If I were not accused of trying to build up my trade I would add that he should do all that, and then hire an experienced boatman to handle his boat until he has learned how and had some realization of the dangers. It almost makes me weep when I think of the lives that are lost through the ig- norance .of foolish people who never seek information, or the upstarts who will not heed advice when they get it. If you are not a waterman you will naturally think that constant talk of accidents like that would act as a lesson, but it doesn’t seem to. Some ignorant, unthinking fellow goes right out the next season and does the same thing. For forty-five years I have seen stupidity taking its toll of human lives, oa I reckon it will go right on. 1 know a lot of new people are born every year, but even with the increase I haven’t noticed much difference in the percentage of brains. - ’ wr ~~

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Good Cra Make Good Hizens

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST HEN old John Hull established his mint in Boston in the year 1652 and began the manufacture of Pine Tree Shillings—the first American coins—he showed the same brand of independence that later built the American Nation. A good craftsman by birth, by nature and by necessity, he was also a good citizen—treasurer of town and colony, town representative, com- mander of the Boston Artillery Company, a founder of Old South Church. So, even in the earliest days of our history, good citizenship and good craftsmanship went together. In modern New England this is as true as ever. And modern New England craftsmen work as they live. They don’t believe in short-cuts to ac- curacy and efficiency any more than in short- cuts to Utopia.

men < MG lina”

People have said that the Stevens-Duryea Motor Car was made better than was necessary, that too much time and money were spent upon such things as square-taper joints and close tolerances; but you may be sure that such expenditure and workmanship are worth while or these modern craftsmen would not insist upon them. For the methods that produce this car, though they express the finest traditions of many gener- ations, are as modern as the performance of the car itself. The texture of every piece of steel, the result of every manufacturing process, the scien- tific solution of every problem have their mean- ing for the owner of a Stevens-Duryea during the long, uninterrupted, satisfying years of pos- session and use. STEVENS-DURYEA, INC. Chicopee Falls Massachusetts

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST MAN TO MAN (Continued from Page 28) SKOLOINKO).Y, by 4 renewable -([SES NDUSTRIES using electrical energy save 80°0 annually in fuse mainten- ance costs when they install Economy renewable Fuses in the place of ‘one- time” fuse-equipment. Economy Fuse performance is a matter of record—they were the first fuses using inexpensive bare renewal links for restoring blown fuses to their original efficiency to be Approved in All Capacities by the Underwriters’ Laboratories. Your plant needs Economy Fuses. Investigate the quality of the electrical protection you now have from the “ie beles ole) teh ame) Mmel-)o]-leler-Leytb ia ams 08 (e (olen and economy. Then order Economy Fuses installed. For Sale by all leading Electrical Jobbers and Dealers. ECONOMY FUSE & MFG. CO. Chicago, U.S. A. Foonomy Fuses are also made in Canada at Montrea | i | in the Street and himself sought after and | others to take up the rest. Starbuck smiled. He gloried in the inti- macy he had established with this powerful man, an intimacy that made him marked flattered. Yet it was only a business association, an association that gained him access to the man’s private office at will as business reasons suggested. There was nothing per- sonal about their relationshi It was, in fact, as cold and hard as could be. But this was as Starbuck would have it. Certainly there was nothing about this man to enlist his affection, however much he might admire him. Starbuck was as ambi- tious as the next man and, much as he might mean to Cullen, Cullen meant more to him. Cullen, he knew, was using him for his own purposes; but those purposes ~ nye to ye—in fact, had already proved to be mutually beneficial. And there were im- mense future possibilities of all sorts. What Starbuck hardly realized was that the admiration, that all the elements in- volved in his attitude toward Darius Cullen were elements that upon adequate occasion could easily give birth to fear. For he was in the spell of the man’s personality—the personality of a man who knew how to make millions. It was all-compelling. “We'll have to have another pool with another agreement, calling for at least fif- teen thousand shares. I don’ ’t want a big pool. W hat can you take? Eight thousand shares?’ “Why—yes. Eight thousand.” “ All y* t. I'll take two, personally. You might get Yates, Gwynne & Co., Selden, Pratt & Jamieson and one or two Bring them up to dinner to-night. Metropolitan Club.” “Yes, sir. But ey “*Look here, Starbuck. I’m too busy to bother with questions. Let it stand as I say—or, if you don’t want to, why, just tell me so and I'll make other plans.” “Why, certainly I want to, Mr. Cullen, but “All right, then. Good morning, Star- buck. See you to-night.” Starbuck met Yates by appointment for luncheon at the Bankers Club. “Look here, Jim, let me tell you some- thing.’ Yates was eying his friend sol- oman. “I’m not going in on this new pool, and I’m not going to renew on the old one. I don’t feel good about this movement at all. What's old Cullen up to anyway?” “What do you mean— what is he up to? He’s putting up Blauvelt, isn’t he? That is, I am; with his influence of course.” “Yes, but neither he nor you nor anyone else can keep it up. It’s a rotten property, I tell you. You hear talk all saad now about manipulation. I don’t trust Cullen too much anyway. Why should he play out of his class with us? I don’t want to be associated with it—or with him. And you shouldn't be. Except we all know you’ re right at Cullen’s elbow, and of course “Tom Yates! Steady there, old chap.” “Well—forgive me, dear boy. I didn’t mean that. But for your own good, Jim, keep out of any more agreements. You're loaded up now with nearly your whole commitment of five thousand shares “a Starbuck flushed angrily. “All right, Tom; if that’s the way you feel about it.” The conversation, which was stilted thereafter, ranged fields apart from finance. That night at the Metropolitan Club when cigars were lighted in the private dining room Starbuck cleared his throat. “Mr. Cullen,” he said, “I have explained the idea of the new pool to the men who are here and they are all—well—anxious to go in. I only want to say for my firm that eight thousand shares as my commitment seems out of proportion and a “But your firm is the main backer of the movement, Starbuck.” Starbuck's eyes fell before the man’s steady gaze. “Why—why—yes—that is, publicly. But of course we all know here that you are the main backer—that is, without you we | would be helpless. And for us to take eight thousand shares at the present price —— “If you want to back out, say so.” For a full minute the eyes of the two men met, Starbuck’s eyes questioning, almost pading. Cullen’s steady and level, ighted by a wintry gleam. “T am relying upon your opinion, sir,”’ | Starbuck said at length. November 20,1920 “If I asked you to buy eight thousand shares, wasn t that an opinion?” “Well - ” Starbuck’s voice fell away. Cullen drew his memorandum book from his pocket. “Now then, let’s get this straight. Me, two thousand shares. Lambert, Starbuck & Co., eight thousand shares. Selden, Pratt & Jamieson, one thousand. Ryan & Black, two thousand. J. B. Dick & Co., one thousand. Alison, Kirby & Co., one thousand.” Darius Cullen placed the book in his pocket and rose from his chair. “Thank you one and all, gentlemen.” As he nodded dismissal Dick Alison stepped forward. “There’s something I think ought to be brought up, Mr. Cullen. Every ten points that Blauvelt has gone up there’s been a definite selling movement, and it has re- quired fresh buying by the pool members to start the stock going again.” ““You mean someone in the pool is un- loading?"’ Cullen’s voice twanged reso- nantly. “I don’t know. I shouldn’t say so.” “T’ve known of it, but it didn’t strike me as big enough to be at all worried about,” remarked Starbuck in a voice of forced cheerfulness. “ There’s always some selling in a bull movement.’ “You should have spoken to me about it, my boy “TI did, Mr. Cullen; joked it off.” “Did I? Anyway, symptom.” several times. You I'll look into the m1 OWARD the end of the second week in November, shortly before noon, Star- buck entered Darius Cullen’s private office. His face was tense, his straight black hair somewhat disheveled; his hands were clenching and unclenching as he stood con- fronting the man at his desk. Cullen looked up from a letter and nodded. “Well, Starbuck?” A bronze Laocoon, the only ornament in Cullen's office, was holding Starbuck’s gaze. The stalwart figure fighting in the serpents’ toils seemed to fascinate him; so much so that for the moment he seemed unable to direct his attention to the man he had come to see. Cullen eyed him without curiosity. “What's the matter?” Starbuck cleared his throat. “T’ve been trying to see you for a week, Mr. Cullen. You've been " “I’ve been having a set-to with old Knipe. Got a nasty wallop while I was concentrating on Blauvelt. Had to get out and mend fences. Blauvelt’s keeping up eighty-five, isn’t it?” “*It’ll break soon unless something hap- pens, Mr. Cullen. Break like a bubble.” “Break like a bubble! What do you mean? Whe re’ s your nerve, boy?” “My nerve’s all right. It can’t stand against facts. There’s been unloading of Blauvelt by someone for the last three weeks. The effect is going to tell sooner or later—sooner, I guess. I’ve come to ask you about it—ask you what to do.” ‘What to do! Why, stand up and sup- port the stock! What is your situation now?’ Without a word Starbuck stepped for- ward and laid a sheet of handwritten figures before the man, who picked it up and ran over it hastily. He whistled. “IT had no idea you were like this, Star- buck.” “I didn’t myself until yesterday, when they began to raid Blauvelt in earnest. Yesterday we bought block after block of the stock and almost exhausted our calls on the pool for help. We've kept the price up, even raised it a point. But we can’t stand another such day.” “Why can't you?” “Because—because we're about ex- hausted. The banks keep throwing securi- ties back at me. What is your advice?” “Simply to stand up. You're floor man- ager of this pool. You'll have to support the stock, that’s all, Starbuck, unless you want to go under.” “IT know that. I am asking your help. How about your banks? Couldn’t you give me a note to them?” “I’m using my banks myself in another matter. I’m tight, Starbuck, awful tight. You'll have to see this thing through your- self.” (Continued on Page 41)

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 39 ow a Pot of Coffee Saved $1502" \ K T vict surface in a certain plant found the bare hot surface of a steam chest a most convenient stove on which to heat their coffee. Refilled by each oncoming shift, it became a con tinuous service to coffee drinkers—and as it turned out it was the means of teaching the plant management a very valuable lesson. One day a Johns-Manville man (a Waste Killer) hap- ie pened in, saw the simmering brew and used the instance as a simple demonstration of the way heat intended for power alone was being wasted by many surfaces through- out the plant because of the lack of proper insulation. The calculations given in detail below* show that the plant was losing $1615. yearly in this way. Insulation cut the loss to $113., an annual saving of $1502. . Through Johns-Manville, Insulation has become an exact science. Read about it. Johns-Manville Insulations Whether the service is for steam, hot water, air, brine, cold } water or some special heat- carrying medium in the plant or | in your home—whether for heat- ing or for power use—Johns- i Manville will apply the material, a most important factor in as- } suring maximum heat-saving id performance. There is a com- plete department of this service ; in each Johns-Manville branch. { Asbesto-Sponge Felted, Asbes- ‘ tocel, Underground System ot { ' There are hundreds of places where heat is being wasted at a much greater rate than in this conservative coffee-pot instance, and at a greater expense because fuel costs more than ever. Many surfaces regarded as insulated are wasting almost as much heat as if they were bare—so poor is the protec- tion their covering affords. For rule-of-thumb often regulates the application of so- called ‘‘Coverings.’’ In fact, guess work coined the phrase “‘pipe covering,’’ a mysterious material that may have little to commend it except that it saves some heat. Today there is an expert technology in Insulation. Johns-Manville now maintains a national service in Insula- tion for all fuel users. It is based on sound engineering practice, made practical through materials of known merit as heat savers. Moreover, it is possible to calculate losses from present faulty materials now in service and to predict new savings under corrected conditions. And in this day of high coal prices it is no wonder that Industrial Management eagerly welcomes this phase of Johns-Manville Service in Conservation that is saving thousands of dollars of wasted power to the hard-pressed industries of our country. JOHNS-MANVILLE CO. Madison Avenue at 4ist Street, New York City q Insulation for Steam and Hot Water Pipes, Anti-Sweat Sec- tional Pipe Insulation, Built-up Brine and Ammonia Insulation. | " Asbesto-Sponge Felted for bigh | y pressure steam lines . rw } Tom ah 1s i i: ve ie OP nt VG, Z %, fs {| EEEEees j i , 10 Factories— Branches in 64 Large Cities | Asbestocel for hot water and Pee age ; P, ' low pressure steam lines , A ‘ ’ ; For Canada ° wr CANADIAN JOHNS-MANVILLE CO., Ltd., Toronto ~ at » Whe average temperature of the surface on which the coffee pot stood was 320 degrees, in a room temperature averaging 70 degrees. There were many surfaces like this in the plant, some large and some small. Based on a low cost of coal at $5.00 per ton, the total loss from these in a year was $1615.00. Insulation was applied, reduc ing the loss to $113.00, a net saving to the plant of $1502.00 annually Built-up Brine and Ammonia Insulation for Refrigeration Lines ARO ie os! pee He dand L ‘| ‘% , : ~f : : ° Ve 2 Y oll ‘ ares es and its allied products INSULATION that keeps the heat where it belongs CEMENTS that make boiler walls leak-proof ROOFINGS that cut down fire risks PACKINGS that save power waste LININGS that make brakes safe FIRE PREVENTION PRODUCTS = omy a te : . ec ee

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 - DEALERS This handsome, mahogany finished cabinet in your store will help you sell more shoe laces. Keeps your stock clean and well assorted. Write our Dealers’ Help Depart- ment or your jobber for details of our Special Display Cabinet offer. How to Get SERVICE from Shoe Laces UY only laces of the finest quality in yarn and weave. Cheaply made laces will soon take on a shabby appearance, exposed to dirt and weather. Keep an extra pair on hand for each pair of shoes. Re- place your laces before they are worn out. Neat laces keep J shoes looking like new. OM\Cle Shoe Laces 6 be E gold and white wrapper and the trade-mark BEADED have stood for shoe lace QUALITY for twenty years. Shoe dealers and repair shops recommend Beaded Tip Laces; they 4vow the service they will give. The best yarns are used in making Beaded Tip Laces. Colors are absolutely fast. The workmanship is perfect. The tips are stamped into the fabric— won't come off. Beaded Tip Laces are imitated, but the QUALITY ts unequaled Manufactured by UNITED LACE x BRAID MFG. CO., Providence, R. 1. BEADED! Sarina Die sMapks= The Tip That Won't Come Off

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 41 (Continued from Page 38) good. It’s for Yale, Jim. Don't you catch | seers ene mmerrscemaermmmernsnmmen steerer ene ES ARETE anny “But as it stands, if I have to buy any it—Yale! We're in a hole and we need more I won’t be able to take up what I buy. you.” You can see by that memorandum I’m overloaded now.’ “‘Well”’—Cullen picked up a letter and rang for his secretary—‘“‘go out and see what you can do. Call me up in the morn- ing and let me know.” Starbuck stood irresolutely as Cullen’s secretary entered and took a seat at the side of the desk. Without a glance at the younger man Darius Cullen entered upon the dictation of a letter. Suddenly after completing a sentence he looked up as though for the first time recognizing that Starbuck had not departed. “Excuse me, Starbuck, but this is pri- vate correspondence.” “Oh!” Jim Starbuck reddened and grew rigid. “‘I beg your pardon.” Turning, he left the office. Once upon the street he stood by the curb, living the agony of a man who has been weak and knows he has been. Fora week he had suffered all the torments that a comparatively young man suddenly con- fronted by grave alternatives can suffer. He had fought, yes; fought as a red- blooded man will fight, all a and throughout the morning. He had stood with his back to the wall taking all that his opponents could give; holding up a rotten stock through the sheer force of indomitable energy and will. But throughout he had sensed an enemy within his own camp. In Cullen’s withdrawal during a crucial week, in the subtlety and malignity of the selling movement in Blauvelt, he had divined that the man, if not guilty, was not igno- rant as to the nature of the underlying forces. And he had gone to his office to confront him with his suspicions—well, not exactly that; he had gone to beg the man that he would rid his mind of those sus- picions. But he had not voiced them; barely in- timated them. His fists doubled. He wanted to beat himself upon the head. Something seemed to break in his head, something that released through his entire being a flooding anodyne. As in a daze he walked over to the Stock Exchange. Jamieson, one whose firm was in the pool, always ebullient, optimistic, slapped Star- buck upon the shoulder. “Good work, Jim! That shove up to eighty-six was good work. The morning ended up with buying; no selling at all.” “Yes,” Starbuck regarded the man vaguely. Turning away, he was walking up Broad Street with no settled purpose save the vague idea of luncheon when he felt a hand upon his shoulder. “Jim Starbuck!” Starbuck regarded the man dully for a moment. Then his face brightened. “Buster! Buster Taylor! What are you doing round here? Didn't I read some- where you were up in New Haven coach- ing?” “Yes, trying to. Things haven’t broken well, Jim. The team’s in a rotten slump. Everybody’s been licking us. I don’t know why. We've got the men—and they know the game. There’s something wrong; has been all along. Now it’s two days be- fore the Princeton game, and the team’s in for a licking, for no reason other than lack of the right spirit. The material’s the re, as Isay. Best I ever saw. But —— Starbuck, who had been listening with an absent expression, suddenly laughed. “Gee, Buster, are you still worrying about football?” “We can’t all be Wall Street magnates, Jim. But look here; I tried to get you yesterday on the phone all day. Day be- fore too. Don’t you answer telegraras, either? Isent you three. So I simply came down to get you myself. Jim, you've got to come.’ “Eh, telegram? What did you want? Want to buy some Blauvelt?” “Buy nothing! Yale’s in trouble, old boy. She needs you. Jim, listen; you re- member that time on the night of the Harvard game when you took us up in your hands and simply pumped so much punch into us that we won a one-to-three- shot game? Well, your big act is needed up there again. Socome on; we'll just get the one o'clock.” “Look here, Buster, you idiot; don’t be foolish. I’m busy. I’m ina bad hole. I’ve got other things besides football to worry about. I can’t go to New Haven.” “Yes, you can too; just this afternoon and evening. Do you good; do everyone “In a hole? Why, Buster ——” Suddenly Starbuck advanced toward the man, placed both arms about his shoulders | and let his head fall heavily forward. For a moment Buster Taylor stood im- mobile. Then gently he released Starbuck's hands. “All right, old boy. Yale may need you, but you need Yale more.” Linking his arm through the man’s, he strode with decisive step toward the Sub- way. y Iv S THE Yale football squad was dress- ing in the gymnasium a group of men entered the room from the trainer’s apart- “ment a few feet down the hall. Three of them were members of the coaching staff; the fourth was in football garb, a stalwart man whose sweatered chest with its -big white Y was not matched in expanse by | any chest in the room. There were patches of gray in the tumbling black hair. While the players gazed at him curiously | the trainer, who had been supervising the bandaging of a bad ankle, left his task and hurried toward the newcomer. “Hello. This is Mr. Starbuck, isn’t it? | Jim Starbuck? I wasn’t here when you were playing; but I saw you play all right. That Harvard game! But the captain, a manly upstanding lineman, intervened. His face was solemn. “Mr. Starbuck, this is mighty fine of | his voice. | “We can still teach them football up here, | but we can’t make them play it. Not this | team, anyway. Mr. Starbuck, we need | something, need it badly. I won't say | you. We need you.” He lowered spirit, no; we take our lickings. But that isn’t the point. We've got it in us some- where to make the other teams take their turn. You're the man to find it.” “I! I find it? Find what, Hale?” “Why, find the fight. It’s in us. Dig it out. Buster is always telling about that | night—Harvard-game night when you | routed the whole team out of bed, sat them on the floor and Well, I wish I could doit. ButI can’t. I’vetried. Princeton’s | due here day after to-morrow, and we're in for another licking. That’s all. It’s up | to you, Mr. Starbuck.” Starbuck smiled vaguely, turning to the coach. “Nineteen years ago! Buster, I had something that night. It’s—it’s gone now.” “Gone nothing!”’ The coach took the | man by the arm, literally shaking him. “Gone! Why, big as you are I'll land you | on the jaw in a minute. Gone! Look at yourself—and then tell me that!” “Well’’—Starbuck surveyed the little | terrier of a man doubtfully—‘‘tell you what, Buster. I'll do the best I can, if you'll wait a minute until I call New York and see how Blauvelt closed.” The special trolley car conveying the | team out to the Bowl rattled and rocked upon the tracks just as it had always done. Jim Starbuck stared out the window, mark- | ing the houses as they were passed. He remembered them all, or most of them How many fall afternoons with the sun- | light like this and the air like this had he ridden through these old streets! A mole- skin knee was rasping his; there was a feel to the contact that evoked rushing mem- | ories. And the owner of that knee was a | blond; reminded him of Jo Rogers, some- thing. There was the same silence as of a | regiment being hurried to battle. And in | many of the faces was a look he had seen in the faces of the teams he had captained that expression which he had changed overnight to an expression that Harvard had speedily come to fear. There was another player who sat oppo- site—a rangy youth whose gray eyes vaguely bothered him as they turned on him. The past fled. Starbuck moved irritably. As the car stopped and he stepped to the ground instinctively he turned toward the gray weather-worn fence that surrounded Yale Field “Not that way, Jim,” called the head coach. “‘Here’s the Bowl over this way.” “Oh, yes; the Bowl.” Starbuck gazed with interest at the huge circle of earth and concrete, so very like a fortress. He had not seen it before. The coaches went on ahead as the team reached the Bowl and collected in one of the runways for their advance upon the field. Starbuck remained with them, er aarerepnen “a.° While Eating Consider Your Digestion A man who 1s so absorbed in his business that he thinks business while at meals fails to give the necessary atten- tion to the proper mastication of his food and usually suffers from indigestion. The routine use of Beeman’s Original Pepsin Gum ten minutes after each meal will help the digestion of many men who eat too hurriedly. ~ American Chicle € ompany 4 a New York Cleveland Chicago Kansas City San Fran Rochester CHIcle a amc AONE NOC ter

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THE Ps » BOYCE MOTOME How To Get More Gasoline Mileage in Cold Weather QUIP your car with a Boyce Moto-Meter and make intelligent use of a radiator cover. That's the secret of efficient automobile operation in cold weather. If the red fluid in your Boyce Moto-Meter indicates “Cool Motor”, cover your radiator and keep it covered, until the fluid in the Boyce Moto-Meter rises to “Summer Average” Then, and then only, will you get proper gasoline mileage. If your car is not Boyce Moto-Meter equipped, order one from your dealer today. It will only take him ten minutes to install, and its cost will pay for itself many times over in the course of the winter. Seven Models, $2.50 to $15.00 THE LONG ISLAND CITY 8 A PTC EY MOTO-METER COMPANY, Inc. NEW YORK, U.S. A. SATURDAY EVENING POST standing in the front rank behind the cap- tain, living scores of tumultuous recollec- tions. Then out into the open, the gridiron still gleaming like emerald, the skies and clouds booming above the towering sides of this crater of football spirit. “Fellows, come here; gather close.” Buster Taylor, with a list of names in his hand, immediately became the center of a group of some forty young men who stood with arms linked about one another's shoulders, their eyes fixed upon him. “Fellows ——” Buster paused and looked round. “Where’s Jim Starbuck? Oh, come in here, Jim, will you? “ Fellows,” he went on, “this is your last hard scrimmage before Princeton comes. I've taught you all I can. It’s up to you to put it over. I’m going to have nothing to do with you; at least not yet awhile. I’m going to sit on the bench while I turn you over to Jim Starbuck here. You don’t know Jim Starbuck; some of you, I sup- | pose, never heard of him. Well, Jim was | captain of a great Yale team, a team that was great because it came up under re- | verses—reverses such as you have had— and won out. Why? Because Starbuck was captain and knew how to make men fight. Well, that’s what he’s here for to-day, to give you stuff. Catch it? I'm going to to turn this scrimmage over to him and — “No, you're not, Buster. At least not yet. Fellows”—he turned to the players, | who were gazing at him curiously—‘‘I’ve been getting something while‘I’ve been here with you; something I’d forgotten I | possessed. All sorts of things are going through me. Now I’m an old man —— He paused until a chorus of flattering, in- credulous laughter died away. “Well, thank you. I don’t feel old, any- way. What I want to do, if Buster will let me, will be to go out there and play left tackle for the scrub as long as I can last. Then, after that, I may have something to say. If I think I have I'll say it; if not I'll keep my mouth shut. What do you say, Buster?” Buster laughed. “Jim Starbuck in at left tackle of the | scrub. Right? Varsity, I’m a friend of yours, so I'll give you a bit of advice—look out! The scrub kicked off, and when a Varsity | back had been nailed on the twenty-five- yard line the teams lined up hastily. Starbuck, standing half crouched, ex- yectant, his hands upon his knees, as Jim lense used to stand, grinned at the oppos- | ing end, “What's your name, youngster?” “Cullen, sir.” “Cullen!” Then it was that Starbuck remembered why the cold gray eyes of this boy had made him uncomfortable during the trolley ride. Cullen? He recalled Darius Cullen’s statement of a nephew at Yale who knew nothing but football. Cullen! With a sort of fierce pleasure he outstared the boy. hen, as though it were someone else speaking, Starbuck heard his own voice, a voice fresh with youth and with the aban- don and the daring and the impudence thereof. “All right, you end—Cullen. You know what the defensive tackle does to you.” “T know what he tries to do, sir.””’ The voice was twangy, resonant. The Varsity quarter rattled forth the signal; the next instant with a gurgle of joy Starbuck’s great body was leaping forward, “Bang! Cullen, see. I charge you and make in toward center. Ah, you block it, eh. Then—bing! I use you as the ful- crum to drive myself into the play. Blooie!”’ Like chaff the interference was knocked apart by Starbuck’s hurtling body,,while the defensive left end launched in and nipped the runner for a good four-yard loss. “Ha!” Starbuck rose, laughing and shaking his head, his teeth bared. “Catch it, Cullen? It’s you and me battling over a e of ground. That’s what you want to eep in your head. What you've learned about your game tells you where you want to go and what you have got todo. That’s what it does with me too. But besides, I say: ‘Cullen’—all you fellows of the Var- sity listen to this—I say: ‘Cullen, you and I have a personal misunderstanding, and you, Cullen, personally, have got to yield to me personally.’ Catch it, all you fel- lows? It’s a fight between two men, a fight hitched to your team-play machinery November 20,1920 and all that sort of thing. Now, come, Varsity and scrub. Make it personal as well as mechanical; every man with a fight on his hands—someone to—to—out- man. Yes, that’s the word—outman. Are you wise? “Now you, Cullen, here’s another point: By your shifting and eye glances you were trying to ball me up as to the trend of play and what you were going to do, and so on. But you didn’t faze me a bit. Why? Be- cause I had to get you, and to hell with everything else until I had got you. And I knew I was going to get you. Why? Be- cause I knew I was gamer than you and more of a fighter and —— Ha! That makes you mad, eh? Well, that’s what I want, Now, come at me and prove I’m a liar—if you can.” It came to be one of those wonderful tackle-end fights that live in the memory of all who see and can appreciate the extraor- dinary elements involved. And it ended when the Varsity captain at length was forced to assign a back to assist Cullen in blocking the hurtling tackle. On offense Starbuck had succeeded also in making of the game a personal encounter with the defensive guard and had done that portly young gentleman a lot of good, but his heart was not in this as it was in the battle against that end with the stone-cold eyes. And it was not until he had him where he wanted him, with the assisting back-field man doing most of the blocking, that, panting, bleeding, chuckling, he with- drew from the mélée. “It’s in your hands now, Buster.” The head coach surveyed the big man. “Jim, just what was it you said you didn’t have? Lord, man, look at ’em! You’ve sent my best scrub tackle out of the game with a nose broken by a man who never before even stepped on anyone with- out saying excuse me. Johnny Mack had to stop three fist fights out there. Well, I'll have to go out and apply a sedative.” Starbuck grunted. The deep shadows of the afternoon were falling; only the squat towers of the Bowl were gilded with cold light when the whistle of the coach was heard calling for cessa- tion of labor. Out in midfield stood a monolithic figure with blanket flowing from one shoulder. “Out here, fellows. Everybody gather round.” Starbuck’s voice sounded like a trumpet. “Fellows, you caught it. Do you know what you caught? Answer.” “Fight!’’ The chorus was as savage as a bayonet charge. “Right. Listen. When I was captain here we had a team that was shot to pieces just as you have been. Our material wasn’t so good as you have. Princeton had licked us. Harvard was going to lick us. Well, the night before the game at a mass meeting a little runt of a professor got up on the platform and he made a speech. No one had asked him to. But he was full of his theory and he had to get it off. What he said was that though football was col- lective, mechanical, it was also individual, personal. Eye to eye! Man to man! I can hear him now. Do you catchit? Man to man.” He swept his arms in a gesture. “A system is only as good as the men who are parts of that system. When you beat one man down, dominate him, make him mellow, there’s a cog of the system gone. That’s what we did way back nearly twenty years ago against Harvard. Every man who faced us had to show us, person- ally. Every man of us was not fighting a position; we were fighting another man. We weren’t even fighting Harvard, not concretely. No, sir. We were fighting in- dividual men. Do you get it? Man to man! Eye to eye! And we broke that Harvard machine to pieces bit by bit until we had our will. Who do you play day after to-morrow?” “Princeton.” “No, you don’t. You are going to play eleven men who happen to represent Princeton. Eleven men. Man to man. Eye to eye. They quit or you quit— personally.” Starbuck was conscious of the gray eyes of Cullen, the end, fixed upon him steadily, unblinking. He straightened up, laughing, a curious thrill quivering down his spine. “System! We bend to it. We play it. We let it rule us. When you get out into business you'll find Pe Suddenly he stopped. His hands clashed together. He swung round upon the coach. (Continued on Page 45) > { \ i

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 43 fe wey . ~ " ‘a 4 . i os be: f +e EE ee ae ee 6 ee Mae ot ¥ 7 ’ om 3 —_ es , ‘ Oo "Ee & a ‘“ % - Foe : r is ba ’ PR ONE IAT tag A GAME LOTS I : ’ ) neers ote ‘ a “yen Sa eS eR “- . . 5 ‘ 7 ; pe Phtsiaccs ay eee Per - or - ite aT | “~S ti . | Dapeowe | ve 3 & ’ oat ft es os ™ d . crater a ~ a . $ caginry ger, ~A N three days and three hours McElwain could make as many | There are cheaper shoes than McElwain Shoes Til a a but none that are less expensive RE | Especially interesting in style is this Men's markets of the world, tans them | Black or Brown Gun in its own tanneries, and makes OS een: each separate part of the shoe in a separate, specialized factory. HE very high priced shoe and the very low priced shoe are both often expensive shoes. The real test is this: How much med style and beauty, how many months of wear does each shoe dollar buy? And by this test there are no less expensive shoes than those McElwain makes. For the McElwain Company buys its hides direct in the hide At every single operation there is a sav- ing of pennies; and the pennies amount to dollars by the time the shoe reaches you. Millions of men discovered McElwain worth before they knew the McElwain name. Today the discovery is easy for the name is stamped on the sole. You can buy McEl-wain Shoes at the stores of 25,000 leading independent shoe mer- chants throughout the country. Send to us for the booklet “How to Make Your Shoes Last.” It will help you to make a definite reduction in your shoe bills; and it is free. A card will bring it to you. W. H. McElwain Company, 358 Congress St., Boston 3, Mass. TRADE MARK To stand rough wear this Men’s | Brown Blucher is sturdily built. i — EVERYDAY WEAR MEN'S AND BOYS' SHOES FOR DRESS AND McELWAIN SHOES

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 = —— any -Alll-Clay Plumbing fixtures OU can’t stain “Tepeco” China. If it’s medicine or any bottle containing acid that is upset over the lavatory, it may be a laughing matter or a reason for lasting regret, depending on the kind of lavatory you have. You can't stain “Tepeco” China. “Tepeco” All-Clay China Lavatories are not affected by acids. The glaze is baked on and into the body so hard that even acids (hydrofluoric excepted) cannot penetrate. Medicine stains, so often the ruination of softer surfaces, ge can be removed from a “Tepeco” Lavatory by a second’s “ees application of a dampened cloth. It’s just like washing a x dinner plate. By es Add to these virtues of “Tepeco” ware, durability—the oar life of the house itself—and beauty—glistening whiteness, « with lines of attractive simplicity. “But *‘Tepeco’ All-Clay Plumbing Fixtures must cost a lot il of money,” you may think. Not over 10 or 15 per cent more than you would pay for some other fixtures which at the best do not last nearly so long—and with each month added, harder to clean. And the cost of installation is the same in either case. “Tepeco” All-Clay Plumbing Fixtures include every descrip- tion of plumbing fixture from the Si-wel-clo Silent Closet ora Kitchen Sink to a“Tepeco” Porcelain Bath. If you Pe, intend to build or renovate your plumbing, write cs for our instructive book “Bathrooms of Character.” THE TRENTON POTTERIES COMPANY j Trenton, New Jersey, U.S. A. BOSTON NEW YORK SAN FRANCISCO World’s Largest Makers of All-Clay Plumbing Fixtures

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(Continued from Page 42) “Buster, excuse me. But I have to hurry. I want to get back to New York, quick. First train.” “What’s the matter with you, Jim? You're going to stay up for dinner. In fact I want you here to-morrow.’ “Nothing doing, Buster. You can swing this situation now. As for me, I’ve got something of my own on my hands; some- thing very important.” “Tt must be.” “It is, Buster, old boy. It is. See you again sometime.” He turned and galloped across the field to the exit. Good-by. Vv HORTLY after eleven o'clock next morning Starbuck appeared in the outer offices of Darius Cullen & Co. The guardian of the door looked doubtful. “Mr. Cullen has turned away several men this morning. He’s very busy. Maybe he'll see you, though. I'll take in your card.” “All right.” Starbuck handed the man his card and then, as he turned, followed close behind with the lithe noiseless steps of a panther as the man walked down a corridor to the door of a secluded private office. Here suddenly he pushed the negro and entered. Darius Cullen was reading a newspaper. “You here? Well, how is it?” He ges- tured the negro to withdraw. “T think you know how it is.” Starbuck stared into the stony eyes without quiver- ingalash. ‘They began to pound it down as soon as the market opened. It was eighty when I left. Our resources are practically exhausted and we ate up calls on the pool for support in the first half hour.” “T see. Pretty bad.” “When it gets to seventy my firm will have to go—and others too.” ‘That's a fighting margin if y stand the gaff.” “We can't stand it. — by closing. Cullen’s head was shaking sadly. “Starbuck, I’m disappointed in you. I picked you for a bright young man who reoe swing this thing. You've bungled everything from start to finish. Already you've bought more than the pool called for. Well, it isn’t my fault. I’m sorry for you.” “You're sorry, eh?” Starbuck moved close to the desk. “Mr. Cullen, I spent until four o’clock this morning talking to the members of this pool; talking to other people. I went into the club of one man whose name you'd like to know, caught him in the washroom and choked him until he told me what I wanted.” Cullen eyed the man calmly. “Starbuck, I think you're crazy.” “No, I’m not crazy, Cullen. My trouble has been that I have been playing a system instead of men. That’s where you tried to beat me; where you've beaten others. You had no rules of the game. You play a personal game. You played me and a lot of the rest of us for suckers. And all the time we were playing what we thought was a game, whereas we ought to have played you. Manto man. Eye to eye. I was so late getting this fact that now I've got to take you in my bare hands—sort of a short cut.’ Cullen sat quietly watching the man, saying nothing. ‘Eye to eye! That was your long suit. You haveac aH penetrating look—hypno- tism, I guess. You'd look at me and I'd crumble. Why? Because you were a great money getter and because I wanted to get money. I was money mad, like the rest. So much so that I rolled over and played dead every time you batted an eye at me. Afraid of the chief. That’s what we all called you.” “Get out of here, Starbuck!” “Not just yet. We were a ing the sys- tem, the financial system. hich means that we stood to win if you am straight and to lose if you played crooked. And if we lost we were to take our medicine, get our newspaper notoriety and begin over again. Starbuck slapped the desk a ringing blow, which made the glass blotter cover jump. “And you played crooked. You’ve been unloading on the quiet every week —— “That’s a lie!” “Oh, no, it isn’t, you old double-crosser. You were playing us. We were playing your system. All right. Now, I’m going ou can The stock will be at THE SATURDAY to change. I’m going to play you. Do you get me, Cullen?’ With a sudden movement the man’s hand went out and touched a button, the fingers withdrawing just the shade of an instant before Starbuck’s big fist descended | with a force that would have broken every | bone in them. , a | He stood back waiting as the door opened and the secretary, a dapper little | man, entered. “Ah, Mr. Stobbs. Will you just step over | there and pull that call box?” The man started to obey. Starbuck reached out and seized him by the arm, drawing him back to the desk with a jerk that sent the man’s eyeglasses flying. “If you move, Stobbs, I'll twist your | neck off!” With a swift movement he reached down and tore out the desk telephone wires by the roots. Then, laying hold of the under ledge of Cullen’s heavy mahogany desk, he dragged it across the floor, swung it round as though it were a mere trunk and jammed it against the door. Cullen, utterly bewildered, still sat in the chair which had been by the desk, the secretary at his side. ‘This is pretty strenuous, young man. I suppose you know you'll go to jail for this? “i “Jail! It’s the electric chair that’s both- ering me. But I think I can escape it on the ground of temporary insanity. I took care to establish an impression of the sort at the Exchange. They led me from the floor. Nervous wreck. Do I look like one, Cullen? I’m sorry you called in Stobbs. Still, that will make it look crazier, since I've nothing against him.” “No,” quavered the little man; “you've nothing against me. And I want to goout. -" Filled with sudden thought, his mouth opened. But before sound could | come Starbuck’s fist had crashed to the jaw | and he tumbled into a corner. “Now then, Cullen, stand up!” He took the man by the collar and jerked him from the chair. “You poor old shrimp! You're the chap | that sets up to bust strong men, play them | for fools, take their money and then listen with a smile while they whimper. You're a joke. It’d take me one minute to shake all the life out of you that still sticks to your bones.”’ With a dart like a serpent’s tongue Cul- len’s hand struck Starbuck on the temple. | “My! My!” Starbuck laughed as he seized the hand and then stepped behind, drawing it with him until he had a hammer lock. kicked backward, his heel biting Starbuck's shin. Starbuck drew the hand upward until an involuntary groan: came from his V ic tim. “Cullen, in a minute I’m going to pull your shoulder out of the socket—that is, unless you do what I want. Look out The man | there! If you try to eall I'll strangle you | like a rat. It would be a poor chance any- way. Noone could hear you in this remote place.” A stream of foul profanity began to flow from the man’s writhing lips. It broke into another groan as his shoulder joint strained , in its socket. Starbuck forced him across the room to an extra telephone set in the wall. “See that telephone, Cullen? Call up your broker, Stacy, and tell him to buy thirtee *n thousand shares of Blauvelt Com- mofi.’ “You —— The stream of curses flowed again— flowed until the fingers of Starbuck’s dis- engaged hand seized the thin neck and brought sound to a mere wheeze. There was a crackling of cartilage. “Look at me, Culien!’’ Starbuck twisted the man’s head round. ‘“ Why, you've got eyes like a dead fish. That's all; a dead fish. Now look sharp! I want you to call Stacy and tell him to buy thirteen thousand shares of Blauvelt Common.” He jerked upward upon the man’s hand. Cullen sank to the floor, writhing, groaning in unbearable pain. “Come up!” The man rose like a puppet under his tormentor’s grasp. “Call Stacy. Turn your head round. Look me in the eyes. Call Stacy or I’ll pull you apart, so help me!” Suddenly a quiver went through the thin body. His hand went out to the telephone receiver. “‘Five thousand — one — one — Broad.”’ Cullen’s voice was thin as a reed. EVENING POST 45 LE eA good way to down your worries, if you {~ have any. Forget them a while and == \ they'll forget you. When troubled, % light up a Girard. Let its mellow as fragrance help you to think your way through hard problems smoothly, cheerfully and with a keen clear active brain. Talk about memory systems! A good for- gettery system has them all beaten a mile. And this wonderful Girard carries the first and finest lesson. Look for this box in your dealer’s case. Take the box along with you and enjoy the whole delightful “course.” ANTONIO ROIG & LANGSDORF, PHILADELPHIA Established 49 vears Never gets On your nerves

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST ri fae A L22£28L44 6228 aMe -— Money can not buy a finer Christmas gift O matter how much you spend, you can not find a handsomer, more useful, more acceptable gift for ‘“‘him’”’ than a Dur- ham-Duplex Razor at One Dollar. Packed in an attractive case of American ivory, with three double-edged, hollow-ground, oil-tem- pered Durham-Duplex blades, famous for their wonderful sharpness, this beautifully finished razor is sure to bring a smile of genuine appreciation on Christmas morning. | Give Him a A Real Razor~made Safe Standard Set, as described above, One Dollar. Special Christmas Model, with gold plated blade holder and safety guard, Two Dollars. Other Sets up to $12. Additional Blades 50 Cents for a Package of 5 DURHAM-DUPLEX RAZOR Co. Jersey City, New Jersey FAC TORIES SHEFFIELD. ENG TORONTO, CANADA + JRRSEY CITY, U S.A PARIS, FRANCE Re resentatives in all Countries | nicely. | him. | anot her “That's better. Ask for Stacy.” In another minute Cullen’s head darted forward. ss hurry at once and tell the pol——” But Starbuck was not caught napping. His fingers were round the man’s throat, so tightly that the jaws fell open. “Tell him to buy thirteen » “Stacy, quick! Buy me thirteen thou- sand shares of Blauvelt. Yes—buy! I said buy “Tell him to hurry.” “Hurry!” *‘Good.” Starbuck hung up the receiver and drew the man from the phone. He threw him into his chair, standing over him. “Now it’s eleven-twenty. That'll do We'll sit here half an hour, by which time, due to your influence, there ought to be a fine rising tendency. The floor of the Exchange will be a sight, won’t it? Cullen buying Blauvelt! My broker has been ordered to begin selling as soon as you begin to buy, so that'll be all right.” For a few minutes there was silence. Starbuck watched the older man, curious as to the expression that had settled upon his face. As for himself, he seemed to have no feeling. There came a sigh from the body lying in the corner. “Poor Stobbs. Coming to life again. That’s good, I’m really sorry I hit him, but I had to.” November 20,1920 Suddenly from Cullen there came a eackle of laughter. Starbuck turned to him, surprised, menacing. But Cullen held out his hand. “Starbuck, this i is funny.” “What's funny?’ “T ought to know men. I made my first money as a timber wolf. In my time I’ve but I won’t tell tales on myself.”’ Again came the cackling laughter. “What's the joke?” “Oh, it’s on me. I picked you fora fool.”’ “Well, you picked right.” “IT thought so. However, I guess not. But you know you won't get away with this, Starbuck.” “T’ll get away with all the Blauvelt I hold.” “Yes, you will. I grant it. You turned that trick. The joke’s on me. I'll stand the gaff. I won’t even throw you into jail. That’s the way I lose. But’’—the eyes began to glitter—‘‘you’re a young man, Starbuck, and I’m not dead yet. We both have yet a piece of the road to travel down here in Wall Street. You've made an enemy of a man worth a lot of millions and who doesn’t fight a piker game. That's a bad enemy to have, Starbuck. I’m warn- ing you.” Starbuck stretched leisurely. “Cullen, that’s all right. Perfectly square and open. Only let me ask you one favor—whenever you start anything, let it come just before the Princeton or the Har- vard game.” THE OTHER MR. BENEDICT (Continued from Page 5) thrust it out at her. “‘This isn’t for me. It’s for the other Mr. Benedict. Send it over to " Here he caught sight of Miss Ca- pron’s expression, and impulsively he called himself a brute. Her solicitude should prop- erly have touched him; there was no earthly reason for her to suspect the source of his irritation. His voice softened. “By the way, Miss Capron, did you telephone to the Cc ity Directory people yet? What did they say? Miss Capron wasn’t accustomed to being squelched, so that she answered with some punctilio: “Oh, yes; long ago. Why, they’re very sorry they made the mistake, of course, but there’s nothing they can do about it until next year’s directory is published.” “‘Humph!" said Stephen. “And here’s wait a minute—no, this is his | too.” | the ducument with great interest. | a stockbroker’s statement. other thing, Miss Capron?” > neatly on the blotter; He leaned back in his chair and regarded It was “What's that “Just a receipted bill. From a jeweler.” “Let me have it back. Thank you. We'll put them both in one envelope. All right, Miss Capron, you can send in the insurance man now. But tell him I’m busy; he’ll have to cut it short.” Methodically he began to set his desk affairs in order. From his silver case he took four cigarettes and aligned them they constituted his morning's allowance of nicotine. From a waistcoat pocket he took a patent card- index memorandum book and placed it to flank the row of cigarettes; and from a desk drawer he brought out a miniature card file, which contained all the fugitive memoranda of yesterday, and last week, and two years ago. From the breast pocket of his coat he produced a flat packet of papers, confined not by a single elastic band at the waist, but by two bands, an inch distant from top and bottom. The tools of his trade were in readiness and Stephen was himself again. Mr.—Stephen Benedict ? . He glanced up briskly. “‘Come in. I’m Mr. Stephen Benedict. What can I do for you?” “Why,” said the visitor, advancing, “I really don’t think you can do anything for me at all. On the contrary, I came in to do something for you.” This introductory remark was enough to ratify Stephen's original belief and he shook his head. “I've got a hundred and ninety-seven friends in the insurance busi- ness already. I'm perfectly willing to let you be the hundred and ninety-eighth. But I’m afraid that doesn’t give you the slight- est chance in the world.” The visitor, who by this time had seated himself at Stephen’s elbow, put up his hand in the gesture which stops all traffic. ““You’ve got me wrong, Mr. Benedict. I’m Mr. Hawksford, of Gossip. You know the publication, don’t you? Of course you do. Everybody does.” “I’ve heard of it,’’said Stephen brusquely. He knew that it was a journal devoted to society matters that justified its title. “But I think you're wasting your time on me.” “But I'm quite sure I’m not.” And Mr. Hawksford managed to give his mouth a twist that suggested extreme confidence in himself. “You see, there’ s another Stephen Bene- dict, and we're crossed in the directory— that is, my office and his home, and my home and his office. Sq I naturally get a lot of his bills and letters and one thing and another, and he gets a lot of mine. And once in a while somebody comes in to see me by mistake too.” Mr. Hawksford hitched a little closer. He was well dressed, well manicured and fairly well mannered, but even in the dawn- ing of acquaintanceship Stephen didn't like him. “T’ll trust our organization, Mr. Bene- dict. We’re only four years old, and we've gone into a field that was pretty well cov- ered by The Society Mirror, but we've got a system down there that’s just about infallible. We don’t make any mistakes.” Stephen didn’t attempt to conceal his unrest. ‘“‘ You’ve made one this time. Soci- ety doesn’ t interest me.”” He glanced at his desk. “‘And I’m rather busy this morning, so if. you'll kindly excuse me —— The visitor laughed softly. “I wish I could afford to get to work at eleven o'clock. Let me show you I’m not mis- taken. Weren't you born in Chicago?” i “Lived there quite some time?” “Te Stephen picked up his memorandum book and studied it, but Mr. Hawksford refused the hint. “Went abroad a few years ago?” ““T was in the Army, yes.” Mr. Hawksford made an odd grimace. “Well-—all right; we'll let that pass. Came back about a year ago?” Stephen brought his hand down on the desk. His restiveness had nearly reached its limit. “Yes, but, really, Mr. Hawksford, I’ve told you “Just let me finish if you don’t mind. While you were overseas your father was— taken away?” Stephen put down the memorandum book. “Why—yes.” “And you took some of your inheritance and moved over here and bought a busi- ness, and now you're living very quietly and all that sort of thing. Pretty accurate so far, aren’t I?” (Continued on Page 48)

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ea ae Aen et THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 47 What happened in your home this morning? Between Zand 7.30.A.M. NO an en See See ert ON (ET AY OD CSU CN ONE A ee er ee ee ee ee ee “Fill in this picture yourself nA Sees ; ANNA NH NE) He HR (Was the steam heating system HAT is why Hoffman Valves are so vital to efficient dead? Did you shiverinan jreating. Because— icy bathroom? At breakfast As soon as the heat is turned on, Hoffman Valves are open wide “in spite of high steam pressure- and stay so until the entire sys- did the radiators stay cold or tem is cleared of air. This gives the steam an open road to heat spout water or thump and bang? up the radiators from end to end in a jiffy—noiselessly—without thundering. Experts wes Atari have good steam But the instant steam approaches heat if you have good air valves on your Hoffman Valves, or water your radiators and steam pipes. surges into the radiators, they snap shut automatically. No steam can escape—no water can leak. You never adjust Hoff- mans —no fiddling or fussing with a penknife to stop hissing steam or spouting water. Hoffmans operate automatically. Hoffman Valves insure warmth and comfort at lowest possible steam pressure. No waste effort. Hence they cut a surprising slice from your yearly coal bill. If your heating contractor cannot supply you, write today for a sample No. 1 Hoffman Valve. It costs $2.15 parcel post prepaid. Put it on your worst radiator—in the icy bathroom or frigid dining room. Watch that radiator come to life. When convinced, have your heating contractor Hoffman-equip a// your radiators. He can do it in a few hours at small cost. Hoffman Valves are guaranteed in writing for five years’ perfect operation through your architect or heating contractor. The many vital points you want to know about your steam heating are contained in ‘‘ More Heat from Less Coal.’’ Be sure When the air valves do their job right, every section in every radiator must get hot quickly and stay hot steadily. It’s up to the air valve if radiators thunder and pound. It’s up to the air valve if radiators hiss steam or spout water over expensive rugs and hardwood floors. It’s up to the air valve if you burn 14 eo a CHICAGO tons of coal in a winter instead of ten. 130 N. Wells Street No. 8 Hoffman Return Line Valve for vapor, vapor vacu um, modulating and vacuum systems OFFMAN VALVES to write to our New York office for a copy of this book. HOFFMAN SPECIALTY COMPANY, Inc. NEW YORK CITY LOS ANGELES 405 8. Hill Street more heat from less coal one-pipe systems No. 1 Hoffman Siphon Air Valve for ordinary

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(Continued from Page 46 “T'll grant you that,” said Stephen, and in spite of himself he betrayed a rising curi- osity. “ But where'd you pick up all your information, Mr. Hawksford, and what’s the point eg Mr. Hawksford duplicated that earlier twist of his mouth. “The point is just this—if I hadn't known you're the man I was looking for I wouldn't have hung round an hour and a half to see you. Now let me tell you a little bit about Gossip. Maybe you don’t know the paper as well as you vught to.” He put an unweleome hand on Stephen's knee. ‘In the first place, there’s no halfway business about Gossip—none whatever. A man’s either with us or against us. He’s a good friend of ours or else he’s an enemy Some people don’t like us; of course they don’t—and maybe you've been prejudiced against us by some of those peo- ple.. But if they don’t like us there’s a rea- on. I'm here to state, Mr. Benedict, that Gossip is one of the strongest influences for good in this community. We're a deterrent. You and I and all the rest of the world are pretty bad, Mr. Benedict, but some of us are worse than others. Now, Gossip acts as a deterrent of wrongdoing and fourflushing and shamming, because we publish the truth. That's what Gossip is.” “All very well,” said Stephen, glancing at his desk, “but I fail to see how it con- cerns me one way or the other.” Mn Hawksford gazed steadily at him “You're in sympathy with our aims, aren't you? Of course you are. Every decent citizen wants the truth,” “Well?” Mr. Hawksford’s eyes were piercing. “When a man pede in a good cause, Mr. Benedict, he ought to be willing te support it, hadn't he?” I've alre ady told you I don’t see “T'm here to explain it to you. We're in a position to be of very great assistance to our friends, Mr. Benedict, and we extend you an invitation to join the family. We've got a mighty powerful organization; we've got a big outside staff that collects exclu- sive information; we've got the best finan cial news bureau in the country; we've got representation in banks, hotels, brokerage houses, newspapers-—-everywhere. We're young yet, and The Society Mirror's got a big start over us and a big reputation, but we can do all they can, and more too. If one of our friends wants advice about the market or if he’s got social ambitions or if he wants the entrée to any particular group of men, whether they're politicians or financiers— why, we generally manage to take care of him. That's our se rvice, and that’s what we offer our friends.” Stephen began to drum on his desk. Specifically, Mr. Hawksford, I can’t imagine anything you ¢ could ever do for me, As I said before “Specifically, Mr. Benedict, I can’t swear that we ever could do anything for you. But if there ever came a time when you needed us we'd be right there on deck. Let me illustrate what a powerful organiza tion it is.” He branched off into a story which showed how Gossip had once saved an innocent state senator from the plot of his political opponents; he told of a par venu millionaire who had acquired prestige through the benign influence of Gossip; he added an anecdote of one who had made a fortune in the stock market by adopting the recommendations of Gossip's financial editor “What we'd like to have you do,” he said in conclusion, “is to join the fam- ily, and be a subse riber to the service. Mind you, I can’t guarantee exactly what we could ever do for you. That's a gamble. But if you want my private opinion, it’s the best gamble you could make, because our big idea is to be friends with our friends. And one more thing— Gossip never repeats an invitation. We come once, and that’s all.” He sat back and smiled blandly. To Stephen the purpose of Mr. Hawks- ford’s visit was crystally apparent. “What you're really getting at,” he said slowly, “is that if I don’t subscribe to this service of yours you'll print some thing in Gossip you think I won't like? “Mr. Benedict!"" Mr. Hawksford was righteously indignant. ‘‘ There isn’t money enough in the world to buy any part of our ‘olumns! There isn't money enough to get anything into them, and there isn’t money enough to keep the truth out of them. And as far as the service goes, some men have paid as high as ten thousand dollars for it.” “I'm not interested,” said Stephen flatly. “You've got the wrong man.” THE SATURDAY Mr. Hawksford received this with sad tolerance. ‘Aren’t you interested in our principle of publishing the truth, then? Of course we're only four years old, but it’s quite a significant fact that in those four years there’ve been just two judgments against Gossip, and both of ’ em were for nominal damages of six cents.” Stephen got to his feet. ‘‘ You'll have to excuse me now. I've told you repeatedly that you think you're talking to the other Mr. Benedict.” Mr. Hawksford also stood up. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You're overlooking a mighty good bet, but that’ 8 your own affair, and not mine. I won't trouble you again. Well, good morning, Mr. Blair. “Benedict,” said Stephen. Mr. Hawksford seemed to be amused by something. “TI beg your pardon. Benedict, of course.” He paused on the threshold. “Just a little pleasantry of mine. We're not supposed to, but sometimes we do tip off a—a friend of ours. I was hoping to take your check back with me, but— you won't change your mind? No? Well, maybe you'll hear from us a little later. Good morning. When Mr. Hawksford had gone and Stephen set himself to the task of meshing his brain with his daily routine he found it peculiarly difficult to concentrate. He was viaguated by the nature of the recent ses- sion, and yet he was morbidly fascinated by it; he told himself that the ramifica- tions of life went almost beyond the imag- ination. He guessed that Mr. Hawksford had unearthed some indiscretion committed by the other Mr. Benedict. The other Mr. Benedict had probably committed it under the alias of Blair; at least that was logically to be deduced from what Mr. Hawksford had said in parting. Stephen had never seen the other Mr. Benedict, but he knew, from the character of some of the bills and letters he had opened by mistake, that the otber Mr. Benedict was a man of far less simple tastes than his own. He had accumulated a rather keen disapproval of the other Mr. Benedict, but he wondered whether it wasn't his active duty to convey to him a warning that Gossip was on his trail. It seemed to Stephen that inasmuch as he had just sat through an interview that had obviously been planned for his name- sake he had acquired toward him a special trust. He rang for Miss Capron, and as she entered he was putting the jeweler’s bill and the broker's statement into an envelope. “ Miss Capron, please call the other Mr. Benedict at his office and see when’s the eafliest time he can possibly make an ap- pointment with me. Tell him it’s urgent.” She came back presently with the in- formation that the other Mr. Benedict was out of town for two or three weeks. Stephen deliberated. “ Well, write him a letter, please, and ask him to be sure to get in touch with me as soon as he comes back. Say it’s important.” Then gradually his commercial mind got into gear, and he forgot about everything but business and the burden of his debts. mr S HE took his seat in the forward car of the five-forty-two that afternoon he was prepared for another skirmish fire of facetiousness, and he got it. Singly and by twos and threes the Oakmont passengers drifted in; they spoke humorously to Ste- yhen, and they passed on; the car was com- fortably filled, yet Stephen occupied a seat alone. At first the fact escaped him, but perhaps because he had been living since yesterday below the surface of life he slowly and inevitably became aware of it. And when it was once firmly established in his consciousness he let his paper fall to his lap and. yielded to self-inquisition. The ver- dict was startling. For six months he had traveled twice a day this road between Oakmont and the city; he was on speaking terms with dozens of commuters, and at least one in each dozen called him by his Christian name. But of a sudden it was borne in upon him that often he sat alone throughout the en- tire journey. It was rarely indeed that any- one spontaneously chose to ride with him while other seats were left untenanted. To be sure, he usually wanted to read his news- paper, anyway, but to-night it struck him orcibly that he was seldom interrupted in his reading; and for all his habits of mental discipline he was gregarious by instinct, and he craved friends. EVENING POST Last evening he had resented all that Betty Paget said to him. This morning he had surrendered to her wishes without fully ey gee them. But now, when he was thoroughly awake to his isolation, he began to ask himself what was the basic cause of it and what he had ever done to deserve it. In honesty to himself he had to admit that he had never compromised with Oakmont; Oakmont hadn’t isolated him; he had engineered it himself. Someone slipped in beside him; it was Charlie Coolidge, and Stephen, in his raw sensitiveness, drew a little away. He told himself with acid garnishment that Cool- idge wasn’t here by preference, but by necessity, unless he had elected to stand up all the way to Oakmont. “Hello, Stephen. Caught your breath yet?” Stephen achieved a faint smile. about,” he said. He hoped that Coolidge wouldn’t try to talk to oe he didn’t want to talk—he wanted to think. Coolidge opened his paper. pretty good?” “Tt never is, in summer. We hardly take in enough to pay postage.” He was poco # wo upon the mysterious difference which made Coolidge popular and himself a part of the background. They wore the same sort of clothes; they had both been to college; they lived in the same atmosphere. Furthermore, Stephen could maintain, without conceit, that he himself was the more distinguished figure of the two. His physique was better than Coolidge’s, his features were better. Yet Coolidge was the pattern by which Miss Betty Paget —and some others—judged all men, and Stephen was on the ragged edge of becoming a laughingstock. He had made a covenant to be more like Charlie Coolidge, and he inspected his model ¢ritically, and catalogued his activi- ties and his contradictions. Coolidge went to church on Sundays, but he always played golf after the sermon; he was one of the vil lage trustees, but he wasn’t afraid of a cock- tail; he was called a hard-headed banker, but he was always available for dances and bridge and week-end parties; he was one of Mrs. Hamlin’s lieutenants, a worker for lo- cal charities and a sponsor of civic improve- ments, and yet he was proud to know a scattering of bohemians in town. Finally, as Stephen knew from experience, he had a reversible vocabulary, one side for business and the other side for pleasure. Stephen sighed at the magnitude of the contract he had accepted. “Hello!” said Coolidge with sudden ani- mation. ‘“‘Here’s a good picture of Lucile Cartwright. Isn't she a peach?” Obediently Stephen glanced at the half- tone. “Yes, she’s a peach,” he said abstractedly. It occurred to him that at college he, too, had cultivated a certain flippancy of diction; he hadn’t by any means attained great prominence at rep- artee, but he had held his own with the average undergraduate. They had bor- rowed a phrase from the vaudeville stage, and called it ‘sidewalk conversation.” Stephen hadn't objected to it at college, but after he had taken his degree he had felt that it was irreconcilable with the serious ambitions of an adult. ‘‘ That's the one you were talking about this morning, isn’t it?”’ Coolidge nodded. “I shouldn’t wonder. She’s the best little actorine in America. You ought to see her.” The knowledge that he was expected to be more like Charlie Coolidge involved Stephen’s sense of humor, but he reasoned that if a banker could get away with that sort of language, then he himself could. Experimentally he threw out a comment in the olden style. “Oh, she doesn’t cut any ice in my young life,’’ he said, and had to smile at the sound of his own voice. Coolidge looked up, puzzled. ‘That's an odd expression to hear from you.” Stephen continued to smile. “What's all your crush on this actress person?” Coolidge continued to stare. ‘* Why, it’s not that—Betty and I both liked her im- mensely. What's got into you, Stephen? You're as sprightly as a two-year-old.” Stephen flushed a little. ‘Oh, nothing. “Feeling your oats? That sprint this morning must have done you good.” “Yes,” said Stephen, ee ‘if I felt any better they'd have to call out the reserves.” Coolidge laughed and didn’t revert to the dramatic page. ‘I thought you’d be work- ing to-night to make up for lost time.” “Just “Business November 20,1920 “No, it’s too hot. I’ll work some other night.” “Not Friday, though.” “What's the matter with Friday?” Coolidge raised his eyebrows. ‘Mrs. Hamlin’s dance?’ “Oh, of course.’ “They say it’s going to be a grand party, so I’m counting on you to be there, Stephen.” “How so?” Coolidge laughed again. “Because you're so beautifully conscientious. You can give the mothers a whirl while I go and frolic with the débutantes.” ““Noth-ing doing!” said Stephen brightly. “T’m sort of tired of towing those dread- naughts round, myself. If I come I’m going to have a good time with the flappers.”’ Coolidge sat up straight. “‘Man! I don’t know you! You talk as though you’d been through a rejuvenation!” “Or in other words,” said Stephen with a faint little laugh, “‘as though I’d been eating meat? Well, in a way, I have.” He told himself that it was ridiculously easy to be like other young men; it was rather fatuous, but from the technical side it was no trick at all. “That’s the only thing I’ve really got against you, Stephen—dancing.” Coolidge shook his head ga eee | “You claim you hate it and you won’t dance unless you're dragged ide it, and yet as soon as you get out on the floor you’re as graceful as a silly gazelle; and I’m crazy about it and dance all the time, and compared with you I’m a regular rhinoceros. It doesn’t seem right to me. There’s no justice. Do you really hate it as much as you say you do?” “T’m a deep and subtle man,” said Stephen, “and you'll have to do your own detective work.” For the remainder of the journey he was engrossed by Coolidge’s new attitude toward him. Heretofore Coolidge had treated him in one of two ways, either im- personally, as a client of the bank, or with a sort of restrained levity, suited to their respective positions in Oakmont society. But Coolidge to-night was a different man; he chatted to Stephen as though to an equal; and Stephen, who knew very well that his own change of manner was respon- sible for the change in Coolidge, was both pleased and enlightened. His enlightenment, however, included a vague deprecation of the facts. He held it to be remarkable that a man of Coolidge’s standing should be so favorably affected by this superficial dialogue. Stephen didn’t realize that Coolidge at twenty-eight was merely a boy with a thin veneer of matu- rity, while he himself at twenty-eight had been behaving like a patriarch with a thin veneer of youth. But regardless of the applied psychology, it was all very novel and entertaining; so much so that Stephen was genuinely astonished when the train slowed down for Oakmont. A thunderstorm was on the point of breaking, and Stephen, with a score of others, raced for the taxi stand, only to dis- cover that all the cars were out on service. As he returned to the shelter of the sta- tion he passed Coolidge, who was climbing into a neighbor’s limousine. Coolidge was speaking: “Why, it beats me! He was just as sociable and clubby as anybody. Shifty with his tongue too. I tell you, maybe there’s two sides to that fellow, and so far we've only seen one ——” Stephen enjoyed a grim little smile, all to himself; and while he loitered for his taxicab he found diversion in the memory. His resolution to act like Coolidge, to talk like Coolidge, even to think like Coolidge, had brought him its first appreciable re- ward—it had made Coolidge almost en- thusiastic about him. He wondered what effect it would have on Betty Paget. On the trip to the inn he was still retro- spective, but when he went down to dinner he had allowed a strong dash of cynicism to mar his pleasure; and by the time he returned to his room he had renewed a aa of his resentment against Miss aget, and charged a little of it to Coolidge too. It occurred to him that once he had been so great that no one ventured to criti- cize his character; indeed, his mannerisms had been slavishly copied by a horde of freshmen; and he went thoughtfully to his top bureau drawer and ran his fingers through the heap of trophy medals. The pride of conquest welled up in his heart, and he saw himself coming down the home (Continued on Page 51) Oe

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(Continued from Page 48) stretch, eating away, inch by inch, the lead of the Wolverine captain, and finishing, all out, a hand’s breadth to the fore, in forty-nine seconds flat. ‘Then unexpectedly there flashed into his mind a lecture delivered him by old Mike, the trainer, on the day after his greatest victory. “Steve,”’ the man had said, “there's only one thing keeps you from bein’ one of the best quarter-milers that ever stepped on a track. You don’t never get no real let-down. You never break trainin’. Your habits are so damn good that after the season’s over you don’t get no let-down to give you a sort of a kind of a purchase to come back stronger the next time. Now if you was to spend part of your summer just loafin’—just bummin’ round—stay up late, take a few drinks, eat like a fool, smoke your head off—and then: go back into trainin’, you'd flirt round forty-seven sec- onds. But you're stale. You're stale in your body, young feller; but you're stale in your noodle, too, and that’s worse. That’s why yesterday’s race was the best you'll ever run, unless you use some horse sense. Paste it in your hat.” And in his senior year Stephen had never beaten fifty-one seconds; he was a poor third in the Conference meet; and he didn’t even place in his trial heat in the Inter- collegiates. He sat down on the edge of his bed to think it over. Stale in body, and in his noodle too! No one but himself could realize how diligently he had trained for permanent success in life; how he had worked too hard and thought too hard and fought too hard to reach a standard that was too high. He had longed, half a dozen years ago, to be crowned Intercollegiate champion; and he had failed because he went stale. He longed now to be young, to have friends, and above all he longed for Betty Paget. She had given him a recipe, and he had tested it and found it accurate. Her recipe required him to break training intellectually, commercially, socially. Stephen had intended that night to pay a penance for his morning’s sins and to di- gest some export statistics and write an article on the immediate situation in Para- guay. Three persons, however, joined spiritual hands and made him the center of a circle; they were Betty Paget, and Cool- idge, and old Mike, the trainer. So that instead of paying his penance Stephen deliberately took himself away from the inn and over to the Country Club. Betty Paget wasn’t there, and neither was Coolidge; but Stephen had a téte-a-téte with Mrs. Anthony Hamlin, and danced with a flapper to the music of the phono- graph, and wound up with bridge at a quarter of a cent a point, and when he went home he was conscious that he had created a mild sensation. He had made Mrs. Hamlin laugh, he had made the flapper look soulful, and he had played buccaneer bridge instead of his usual ultracautious game. It had cost him three dollars and sixty cents, but even his own partner was pleased by his adventurous spirit, and Stephen knew that it had been a good in- vestment. His last coherent thought as he fell asleep was a consolidation of the old and the new doctrines. He was firmly resolved to get a sort of a kind of a purchase, to come back stronger next time; and he told him- self with a flickering little smile that to this end he was going to be more like Charlie Coolidge than Charlie was himself. Then Betty —— Vv N THURSDAY morning he caught the eight-twelve without having to run for it, and he didn’t sit alone; nor was he iso- lated on the homeward trip either. Ham- lin and two other men invited him into the smoker to play cards, and, though he dis- approved of smoking cars on sanitary grounds, yet he recognized the value of the invitation, and perceived that he couldn’t afford to reject it. He won back a dollar and twenty cents, but more than this he won an appreciable measure of companionship. The trio quizzed him intermittently, but he noted with much satisfaction ‘that it was the same style of quizzing that passed current among them- selves; it wasn’t by any means a concerted movement against Stephen. He gained in confidence, and from purely defensive tactics he dared once or twice to take the initiative. As a result of one of his sallies he got himself heartily slapped on the back, at after an instant of ingrowing dignity THE SATURDAY he sensed that he had received an accolade. From that point onward he was content to switch off his scruples and to run on neutral. He went jauntily to call on Miss Paget, but his mood co 1) when he found Coolidge there ahead of him, and then it revived again when he discovered that Coolidge had been acting as his press agent. This inspired him to heights of joviality that astonished even himself, and true to his resolution he modeled his demeanor upon Coolidge’s, and then attempted to surpass the model. oolidge outstayed him, so that he had the opportunity for only a word or two apart with Miss Paget at the door, but each word was a trophy infinitely more precious to him than a gold medal. “I'm awfully pleased by what Charlie says about you, Stephen.” “T don’t care a lot what Charlie says; I want to hear what you say.” “IT liked you better to-night than I ever did before,”’ she told him. Stephen flushed and looked away. ‘I’m glad of that.” “Keep it up- you're doing splendidly.” “I—J will,” said Stephen; and on the way to the inn the flagstones felt like clouds under his feet. Later, however, when he recalled how Coolidge had conducted himself in the Paget living room, how complacent and posses- sive he had seemed, Stephen was visited by a brand-new apprehension. Somehow he had never visualized Coolidge or any of the other men as potential rivals; he had as- sumed that Miss Paget was merely flirting with them, just as she had flirted with Stephen. He had thought of her in her relation to himself and then to the rest of the world in bulk; he hadn’t conceived that there was any question of the survival of the fittest, but simply a question of whether Stephen individually would survive or not. But Coolidge’s air of mastery worried him. He wondered if Miss Paget had been quite candid when she prescribed Coolidge as a model. Then Stephen was thunderstruck; for when he went back over the realities he could remember very clearly that Miss Paget hadn’t prescribed Coolidge at all. Stephen had asked her if she wanted him to be like Coolidge, and she hadn’t even answered him! Her reaction might have implied an affirmative, but she certainly hadn’t spoken it. Wide-eyed, he began to pace the floor. Was it possible that he had entered an actual competition, man to man, against Charlie Coolidge? He shuddered to think of.it. And if Coolidge were in fact his rival, what a ghastly circumstance that Stephen should have to go to Coolidge within a day or two to plead for additional accommoda- tion—for increased credit to carry his busi- ness through the lean,dry months of summer. His logic warned him that he had better go to Coolidge to-morrow, before any per- sonal contention had a chance to assert itself. His second thought, however, pro- duced a complication. He was expecting to receive in the near future several adver- tising contracts that would materially strengthen his case, and he hesitated to approach the bank until he was supplied with every available item of ammunition. Between eleven o'clock and midnight he thrashed out the problem, and at the end he decided to see Coolidge to-morrow, and to begin negotiations, but to prolong them until his new advertising contracts were on the books. Accordingly he dropped in at the bank on Friday morning and explained his errand. Coolidge was genial enough, but his vocabu- lary was functioning on the business side. “*Let’s see,”” he said; “I want to get this whole situation straight. You bought the property in 1919, didn’t you?” “Yes, just about a year ago. As soon as I got back from overseas. It was published in Chicago then.” “T see. It was in pretty bad shape, wasn’t it?”’ “Why, it was practically insolvent, but it looked like a bargain to me, and it does yet. I paid thirty thousand cash for it, and took over its obligations—they amounted to eighty thousand more—and I've paid off forty-five of it.” Coolidge was as calm and unim passionate as a magistrate. “But not out of profits?’’ “Oh, no. I put up the money myself. But we’ve made a small profit the first year, and sooner or later it’s bound to be a young gold mine.” Coolidge nodded, “That’s fine. But what you really need isn’t banking accom- modation; it’s working capital. Isn't that EVENING POST so?”’ He regarded Stephen benignantly. “Well, then, what I want to know is why you don’t put up some more money your- self and clean theslate. That's the simplest thing, isn’t it? And the best business dliey?”’ Until a few days ago Stephen had argued that the best policy was to confess the truth and to throw himself on Coolidge’s mercy. He had hated to give up the finan- cial prestige with which Oakmont had gratuitously endowed him, but he knew that any prestige that rested upon so slight a foundation was ready to topple over at any moment. He had argued that the wisest course was to be frank and ingenuous with Coolidge; but now that he put himself to the trial he was inhibited by a rankling sense of antagonism. He refused to play into the hands of a possible rival. “T’'ve got enough in it now,” he said. “I've put up seventy-five thousand already. If it’s going to succeed somebody else has got to hold the bag for a while. I’m between you and Hamlin.” Coolidge was tapping his desk with the tips of his fingers. “T can appreciate your idea on that all right, but we can’t look at it from your angle; we've got to look at it from ours. The point is just this, Stephen: We've given you a little accommodation, and you've certainly handled it in a perfectly shipshape fashion so far. We all know you're an earnest, conservative business man, and we don’t doubt that in time you’ll put this magazine on its feet and make a wad of money with it. We hope you will. But your company isn’t on a sound footing now—you know that as well as I do—and the credit situation’s very tight, and still you want to increase your discounts. Well, unless you can show me a lot better com- pany statement than I think you can there’s just two ways to get round it; one’s col- lateral ——’ Stephen flinched. ‘Collateral!’ he said. “Well, if you don’t care to put up col- lateral you can try the other way. Now you've evidently got some private resources that you aren’t anxious to shovel into your business. Very well; furnish us with a list of your personal assets, indorse your com- pany’s notes, and you can have anything within reason.” Stephen cleared his throat. He was in desperate need of the credit, but his per- sonal assets consisted of a few hundred dollars in a checking account and a very modest flock of Liberty Bonds bought at par and now selling at eighty-five. Every other penny of his inheritance had gone into his company’s till. The company even owed him his salary for the past six months. “My dear man,” he said at length, “you don’t call that credit, do you?” “That’s the best we can do, Stephen.” Stephen’s mouth went upward at the corners. “Your bank doesn't think much of what the older Morgan said about char- acter being the basis of credit, does it?” Coolidge shook his head amusedly. “No; you see the older Morgan was never on our foam committee. As a matter of fact, old man, we'd like to have that personal state- ment, anyway—that is, if you expect to renew your present note, and I suppose you do. We'll want your own indorsement, and a statement to support it. Bring it in by next Tuesday, if you will; the commit- tee meets on Wednesday.” Stephen was reflecting that both Coolidge and Miss Paget had indicated the same flaw in his cosmos; as long as he was on a casual footing with them they took him at face value; but when he asked for special con- sideration they both demanded collateral. He wondered if he could make any greater headway with Hamlin than he had with Coolidge. He adopted a bearing of great indifference, but his soul was abject. “T’ll try to,” he said “Good. See you to-night, then? “Yes, I'll see you to-night.” He went back to his office and spent a day of pungent distress. He couldn't afford to give Coolidge an inkling of his poverty, nor could he even afford to pay his note, which matured within the week. Further- more, he couldn't continue in business un- less somewhere, somehow, he got the funds to guarantee him against the summer. The next few days might settle his future in more ways than one. He dreaded the necessity of going to Mrs. Hamlin’s danee, for he knew that Coolidge would be there, and he shrank from im- mediate contact with him, to say nothing of the possibility that he might try to monopolize Miss Paget. It demanded the 51 utmost of his will power to compel himself to dress and to set out for the party. Once past his hostess, however, he relaxed a trifle, and wandered out to the veranda, where he found Miss Paget, as usual, the focus of an admiring group. He took up his position on the fringe of the circle. “Hello, Stephen. Not working to- night?” “No,” he said gravely, “‘not yet.” Across the circle Gharlie Coolidge grinned at him, “You'd better watch your step, old man. That oid bluff of working late at the office doesn’t go any more. What do you do when you Stay in town anyway?” Someone else picked up the cue. “Can't you just see Stephen hanging round a stage door with an armful of azaleas?” Miss Paget giggled. “Is that what you do, Stephen?” “ Absolutely.” “The Midnight Foolishes, and every thing?” “And everything,” he said absently. “Loganberry juice until the wee smal! hours?” “Discovered!” said Stephen. Coolidge sat up in pretended horror, “People, he’s leading a double life!” “Triple,” said Stephen. ‘Oakmont, office and Orpheum.” He peered across at Miss Paget to see how she was taking all this, but Miss Paget was airily detached. She was sitting next to Charlie Coolidge in the duskiest corner of the veranda; suddenly Stephen's heart turned over, for he saw that her right hand hung idly by her side, while Coolidge’s left hung idly by his side. He had caught her, flagrante delicto. The flirt! Or—was she? Indoors the music began, and the group filtered slowly through the French windows to the living room. Stephen followed, in trospective. He hadn’t wanted to come to this dance, and now that he was here he wished that he had stayed uway. He couldn't bear to see Miss Paget so familiar with these other men, especially with the one man who, above all others, stood as the arbiter of Stephen's double destiny. He knew that the evening held little happiness for him; he told himself that it was best to go and dance once with his hostess, for duty’s sake, and then to immure himself in the welcome solitude of the inn. Nobody would miss him, anyway — Miss Paget least of all. Accordingly he stalked straight to Mrs. Hamlin, and whirled her through a dizzy one-step that left her breathless. Duty per formed, he was actually on his way to the men’s room when Miss Paget caught his eye. He hesitated and then went over to her. “Aren't you going to ask me for a single dance, Stephen?” Unsmiling he gazed down at her. “Come out under the trees. I want to talk to you.” With complete graciousness she rose and took his arm, and Stephen led her out to the veranda and across the Hamlin lawn to the protecting shadow of the giant elms “Betty, I’ve got to know something I can't go on like this any more. I've got to know. Have I got a chance?” “Silly!” she said under her breath. “That isn’t an answer.” “Why, Stephen — you're so funny to pick out a time like this to 2g “Never mind that. I want an answer.” She was very soft and appealing. “‘ Don’t you think you'd better just go ahead the way you're going and see what happens? Just do what I told you? Be like other men, and A “Be like other men!” said Stephen thickly. “Be like other men!” Before she could be on guard against him he had seized her in his arms and kissed her. He had kissed her and released her, and stood back, defiant. This was a crisi he himself had precipitated; now let her meet it. Miss Paget laughed —a low, sweet, mis chievous laugh, which pecked at Stephen’: nerves. In that instant he lost a fragment of his delusion. He drew a very deep breath and squared his shoulders. I—I'll take you back to the house now,” he said. “I think I'd better,” “Yes,” said Miss Paget, with curious accent. “I think you had,” Vv IR the next three days he tried to drown his somersaulting passions in overwork, but the panacea was quite as sharp as the disease, because it continually (Continued on Page 53

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 | GARFORD The Motor Truck Frozen Credits Insufficient transportation has con- sested shipments of finished goods and materials to such an extent that millions of dollars of capital have become tied up and_ unavailable. This has resulted in “frozen credits,” and the problem of the day is to alleviate this situation. It is conceded by our ablest business men, financiers and railroad officials that the fullest possible utilization of the motor truck is the indispensable remedy for this condition. For self-protection, as well as for the general good, it is the duty of each and every business man to assume his share of the responsibility and— Keep the Traffic Moving TRUCKS

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(Continued from Page 51) reminded him of the day of reckoning just ahead. He didn’t venture to call unbidden upon Miss Paget; he wasn’t sure that he could properly call upon her until she be- tokened her forgiveness by sending for him. One thing was certain, that on Friday night, after the interlude by the elm trees, she had flirted so outrageously in his pres- ence as to suggest that she was doing it for his own especial benefit. He had tried to manage another conference, to abase him- self and come to an understanding, and for that purpose he had lingered at the Ham- lins’ until the last, but she had kept him always at a distance, and made him a mere onlooker at her capriciousness. He had gone home downcast, and he had found that his qualms couldn’t be blotted out by overwork. She didn’t send for him; even though in the dim hope of a message he kept to his room all day Sunday. And then the next week began with a bad omen, for he spoke hazily to Mr. Anthony Hamlin about the future, and Mr. Hamlin grew very serious and preached a lay sermon about conservation and re- trenchment, and the possibility of a panic in the late autumn. Increasingly he was embittered by the knowledge that he had to depend on Cool- idge for salvation; but there was no help for it and no time for delay. Instead of making out a list of his personal assets, as Coolidge had asked, he presently took a fresh record of his company’s condition, a profit-and-loss statement and an inventory, put them in an envelope and went over to the bank to fight for his commercial life. The statement wasn’t particularly opti- mistic, but it showed some progress; the expected advertising contracts had come in and Stephen could only pray that Cool- idge would see the light and be generous. “T’ve just been talking to Tony Ham- lin about you,” said Coolidge cheerfully. ‘“‘He’s your biggest creditor, so his opinion naturally has some weight with us. For your own good, old man, I want to repeat what I said the other day. Your company doesn’t need loans; it needs working capi- tal. What you ought to do is to put up forty or fifty thousand more yourself. You've got it, of course, haven’t you?” Stephen wouldn’t lie about it, but he saw no crime in sidestepping. “I’ve said before that I’ve put up all I’m going to.”” He brought out a neat parcel of papers confined by two rubber bands, slipped out the top envelope and handed it over to Coolidge. “‘That’s as good a story as I can give you.” He turned his head and stared fixedly out of the window to conceal his Misgivings “Does it—alter your opinion at all?” And he loathed Coolidge with inexpressible loathing. Coolidge glanced up from the documents. ‘These are for our files, are they?” “Certainly. That’ swhy I brought them.” “Stephen,” said the vice president, “they alter the whole situation. To tell you the truth, I didn’t expect you to show anything like this; you’ve shown more than I ever asked for. When you went out ef here last Friday I had a very wrong im- pression of you. But when you bring us data like this we’ve got to talk turkey.” Stephen’s pulses quickened. ‘Do you call it a satisfactory statement?” Coolidge leaned back in his chair. “I call it more than satisfactory,”’ he said. “TI call it convincing. And I’m mighty glad you came across with it too. I'll tell you what I’ll do. With your permission l'll take this up with Tony Hamlin. If he’ll increase your bill of credit from twelve and a half to twenty-five thousand, we'll increase ours to twenty-five thousand.” Stephenswung back toward him. “ With- out a personal! statement?” Coolidge struck the envelope with the back of his hand. “I'll take this, and your personal indorsement.”’ Stephen’s heart jumped, but he suc- ceeded in beating down s radiant joy. “Can I—could I put the notes through this week? A new one, and a renewal of the old one?” “Well, I'll get in touch with Tony this morning. I think it ought to be all right.” He stood up and grasped Stephen by the arm. ‘ You’re getting more human every day,” he said. ‘This last week I’ve hardly known you. Only don’t go too far, or some nice old widow'll have to marry you to reform you.’ Stephen went out in a daze of relief and exultation; he had looked forward to a long, debilitating summer of scheming and contriving and desperate financing, and of THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 53 a sudden the clouds threatened to lift. He ; couldn’t believe it; it was too good to be true. Of course he had given Coolidge the best possible statements, and he had held them back until he could include the new advertising contracts, but even so, his suc- cess was beyond his wildest anticipations. And he had no latitude to worry about Hamlin’s action, for he had hardly reached his office when Coolidge called him. “Hello, Stephen. I’ve got some good news for you. Yes, I’ve talked with Tony and it’s all right. You send him a letter stating your — —what you want in the way of credit—and he'll accept it. And about those notes, you can shove ’em through any time. This is special, and the loan committee’ll O. K. it.” “To-day?” Stephen’s muscles were tense, but Coolidge’s voice was heartily reassuring. “Yes; send ’em over. I’m going out to play golf, but the note teller’ll take care of you. Make ’em either three or four months; suit yourself.” As in a dream Stephen gave instructions | to the bookkeeper, and as soon as the notes were dispatched by messenger to the bank he dictated his letter to Mr. Hamlin. He waited then in half-fearful doubt until the boy came back with the loan slip. After that he abandoned himself to his almost delirious joy. Like so many other troubles, his own had never happened. He warmed prodigiously toward Coolidge; perhaps the rivalry for Betty Paget wasn’t true, either. It was past five o’clock when with light- headed celerity he began to clear his desk. | He put away his miniature card file and pocketed his patent memorandum book. | There was a letter he wanted to keep with him for reference, and he added it to the flat packet with the twin rubber bands. Something in the appearance of that packet | arrested his attention, and he paused and eyed it perplexedly. envelope; it contained the company’s statement, and the profit-and-loss account, He drew out the top | and the inventory which Miss Capron had | typed for him that very morning. As he stared blankly at these papers his thoughts went tumbling over each other | in loose confusion. There was no halluci- | nation about it; exhibits, intact. trifle giddy. What, then, could he have given Coolidge? What under the sun could he have given Coolidge to justify a bank loan, and twice the normal line of credit from Mr. Anthony Hamlin? A terrifying notion seared his brain and he rang vio- lently for his secretary. “Miss Capron, do you remember what we did with two pieces of mail that came by mistake on the day I was so late getting in? Did we send them over to the other Mr. Benedict?” Miss Capron shook her head. “No, sir. Y ou kept them.” “But I’m sure I gave them to you to ——-”” “You gave me one of them, and then you took it back. Don’t you remember? You were going over to see him that morning. Then I called up for you, and found he was out of town.’ “I—I kept them? You’re sure I kept them?” here were the original | Stephen began to feel a | Miss Capron was very respectful, but | she was also very positive. ‘“‘Yes, Mr. Benedict, I know you did.” “Hold on a minute. That man from | Gossip was here, and when he went out I sent for you and —— “Yes, sir, and you were just putting them away when Icamein. I haven't seen them since.’ Stephen caught his breath. “‘ Did you did you see what I did with them?” “Why, yes, Mr. Benedict. You put them i in an envelope end put them in your pocket. Stephen began to laugh helplessly. He, the conservative citizen; he, who was too ministerial to suit Bett Paget; he, the man who wasn’t like pr men—had ac- — credit by virtue of a broker's balance eet and a receipted bill from a jeweler. The balance sheet gave proof that the sum of sixty thousand dollars was waiting for the owner to claim it. The bill covered the purchase of a lady’s wrist watch in plati- num and diamonds. The man who had paid the bill and who also was entitled to the sum of money was the other Mr. Benedict. vi WICE on the way across town Ste- _ taxicab was Vlocked in traffic, dewice again he leaned perilously through warlwou i b/g Ruggedly built, simple in design and opere ation, having only two moving parts, the Swartwout H ydromatic Trap prevents waste of steam from coils and heaters and increases their efficiency. Save man and motor power. aor Ventilators Economy Engineering HE field representatives of this organization, travelling from our branch offices and agencies from coast to coast, are actually ‘‘economy engineers,’’ carrying a story of savings to architects and engineers, to foundry men and to ship-builders, to factory and power-plant executives. Save time and fuel. Steel Core Ovens Save roofs and replacement Each of the products illustrated at the left has its own particular economical usefulness—each saves man-power, steata-power, production-time or fuel or else reduces plant depreciation. Heads Each accomplishes its purpose -because of definite, easily under- stood individual features which distinguish it from other devices of its type. To specify ‘‘Swartwout’’ is to specify savings which will heap up steadily to your profit for years to come, Save man-power & first-cost. Stand Unit-System Feed-Water Individual Bulletins on any Swartwout patented products are gladly mailed on request. SWARTWOUT SPECIALTY DIVISION OF THE OHIO BODY & BLOWER COMPANY CLEVELAND = VU. S. PAT, ee and Bod erCoa | Cleveland Y A, > ==, "

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But after a few seconds of humorous appreciation he had got a different perspective and he had stopped laughing. He saw that he owed Coolidge and Hamlin a very humiliating explanation of a fraud that was no less a fraud because it was innocent and unin- tentional. And to make that explanation, as inevitably he had to make it, would put him in far worse straits than before, and bring out the fact that he and his company were mutually bankrupt. But it had to be done, and more than that it had to be done before either Hamlin or Coolidge had breathed to any living soul a single syllable that bore on the transaction. Coolidge was playing golf and couldn't be reached until later; but Stephen had telephoned to Hamlin’s office and learned that Mr. Hamlin had already started for the station. It was his intention, therefore, to waylay Hamlin in the train shed and to prevent the development of any unfortu- nate rumors. To be sure, Hamlin wouldn't deliberately publish information that had come to him in a more-or-less confidential manner, but Hamlin was certainly a normal-gaited citizen and Stephen didn’t put it beyond him to indulge in small talk in the smoking car. And every word that Hamlin might say about Stephen, defi- nitely or indefinitely—-every casual re- mark he might naturally make to the effect that Stephen really did Seve money, or that Stephen maintained a big open account with a brokerage house, or that Stephen had been buying ladies’ wrist watches at twelve hundred dollars—every such re- mark would pave the road to a greater humiliation when Stephen was obliged to confess and Oakmont was to hear the sequel. fe was destined to lose his prestige, any- way, as far as Coolidge and Hamlin were concerned, but he shuddered to think of any publie degradation. And there was still another point that made Stephen set his teeth. uring the past week he had a eeey | planted in the consciousness of Oakmont the idea that he was leading a double life. He had done this in utter pleasantry and almost in self- defense; no one could possibly have taken it, at the moment, with any smallest grain of seriousness. But there had been all sorts of quips with reference to his activities on those evenings when he stayed late in town, and Stephen had made rejoinders which de now remembered with chagrin. He also remembered what Coolidge had said to him to-day, at parting: ‘‘ Don't go too far, or some nice old widow’'ll have to marry you to reform you.” Stephen writhed at the conception of what Coolidge was probably thinking about him, and what Hamlin was thinking too. Neither of them must retail any part of the story. Everybody in Oakmont would know that Stephen hadn't bought an ex- pensive wrist watch for Betty Paget indeed, she would be the first to say so; and then there would spring up a vivid curiosity and a prompt suspicion. Of course, Stephen could establish his alibi, but just the same he sensed that he would be in a far stronger position if he suppressed the story at its fountainhead instead of being g obliged to po the alibi. to place unqualified trust in ( coolidee s discretion, but he also had to try to intercept him, somehow, in Oak- mont, before Coolidge had a chance to see Betty Paget. He also had to waylay Ham- lin in the train shed and blockade the only other source of any compromising bulletins. And then he would quietly pack up his be- longings and find another place of residence; he would sell his tottering publication for what it would fetch and start life all over again. The gates of the five-forty-two were already open and a thin stream of com- muters was trickling through them. Stephen shot a hurried question at the gateman “Do you know Mr. Anthony Hamlin by sight?” “ Nope. , “Stout man, bald, about forty-five usually takes this train.” Nope.” EVENING POST “You don’t know if he’s gone through yet?” “I said ‘Nope,’ didn’t 1?” Stephen pressed through the gates, but the attendant grasped him by the arm none too gently. “Hey there, young feller, my lad, that don’t go! Show us your ticket!” Fuming, Stephen showed his ticket and raced down the long platform. He stepped aboard the last car, which was the smoker, and before he was fairly in the aisle he per- ceived Mr. Hamlin, moist and cheerful, dealing the first hand of the inevitable bridge ame. Stephen came to a standstill. Fie lo, Benedict,” said Mr. Hamlin, and went on dealing ‘with calm precision. Impotent, Stephen gazed at him. He was eager to separate Hamlin from his friends, to ask the vital question, and to lay the strictest of injunctions upon him, but his tongue balked at a siete excuse. Then Stephen noticed that the three other men in the game were all looking up at him, and that each of them wore a rather remarkable expression —an expression com- posed partly of embarrassment, as though Stephen had come in while they were talk- ing about him, and partly of critical amuse- ment, as though the underlying topic of discussion had aroused both their interest and their disapproval. And in the atmos- phere there was also a faint trace of some other feeling, which might have been sym- pathy or even a mild degree of envy. Stephen quivered. He was convinced that he had come too late; that Hamlin had already told them everything —that is, ever thing that counted. ell,’ said one of the three, drawing a deep breath, “I’ve got to take my hat off to you, Stephen. You certainly did put it all over us, didn’t you--you sly old dog?” “What do you mean?” demanded Stephen gruffly, and if looks were deadly Mr. Anthony Hamlin would have ridden home in the baggage car. “Seen this week's Gossip?” inquired one of the others. “Oh, shut up!” said Mr. Hamlin ami- ably. “Shut up and play bridge! I make it a spade.” Stephen was gazing at the man who had mentioned Gossip, and abruptly he was put in mind of Mr. Hawksford, who had sat in his office and purred about his financial service, and informed Stephen, as he took his leave, that Stephen might hear from him later. “No, I haven't seen it. Why?” No one replied and Stephen became vastly more confused. His eye was at- tracted by the characteristic cover of the magazine, and he leaned over and picked it up from the far window ledge. ‘Second page,” said the man who owned it. “Two no trumps.” Stephen had found the place. ‘Too much suspicion of human nature indie ates as great ignoranc e of the world as too much confidence.’ This is all very well in its place, but there is some doubt whether its place is in a book of familiar quotations or in the best society. For example, the not-too-open infatuation of a quietly Vesu- vian young man of exclusive Oakmont Why dissemble? We mean Mr. Stephen Benedict—for a young and beautiful and talented follower of the art of Melpomene and Thalia Why equivocate? We mean an actress—is to be interpreted in accord- ance with any reasonable doubt of any reasonable reader. This column cannot hope to compete with the ouija board. If, however, the Vesuvian, who has always been known to his friends as a prince of propriety, desires to convey the proof of his sentiment in secret he should certainly say it with flowers and not with jeweled trin- kets. We deduce that Miss Lucile Cart- wright is equally concerned with secrecy, for the trinket itself has never been seen to adorn her yy To give honor where it is proved, Benedict's taste is most excellent, and he buys his platinum- and-diamond wrist watches at the very best price and at the very best jeweler’s. As to his motive, we return a Scotch ver- dict—‘Not proven’—but we assume, of course, that Mr. Benedict and Miss Cart- wright are old family friends. In later issues we shall hope to be able to affirm this, or deny it, or something. Our Chicago correspondent promises an interesting bi- ography of Mr. Benedict ~whois Chicagoan by birth—for an early issue.” Stephen, lifting his horrified eyes from this lengthy paragraph, saw that his four November 20,1920 onion were neglecting their game ridge. Limply he ed: into the op- posite seat; the eyes of the four pursued im. He knew that he mete say something, and say it promptly, and yet his thoughts were so tumultuous that his speech lagged back. He wondered if it wouldn't be best to make a brief and general denial of the whole business—simply to say that there was another Mr. Stephen Benedict who had been confused with him. And he could add to Mr. Hamlin that there was a further explanation to be made to him privately. A man with a different mental make-up from Stephen’s would probably have come out flatly with a defense, and the alibi, and carried it off with some sort of spontaneity. Stephen, however, was a man of peculiar sensitiveness and diffidence, and recently he had built up a considerable distrust of his own effectiveness. He struggled for exactly the right thing to say, ro 4 struggling, he gave the im- pression that he was overcome by a truth- ful accusation. Mr. Hawksford hadn’t even kept the complication in its original form; he had got both of Stephen's addresses, and neither of the other Mr. Benedict's. Stephen real- ized that no one who knew what Coolidge and Hamlin knew could be swayed by any brief and general denial. Furthermore, if he made such a denial in public, and in Mr. Hamlin’s presence, it might not even be possible to stave off Mr. Hamlin’s natural reaction until Stephen could get him alone. And if Hamlin pave? blurt out just one query—if he should demand what sort of chicanery Stephen had tried to practice, then, in the negotiations of to-day—the situation would be out of control entirely and Stephen’s dignity and reputation would be in the ash heap. His next realization was that if he had intended to make a denial he should have made it at once. One—two—three minutes had passed, and he had been occupied with thinking and not with defending himself. But the car was filling rapidly; and a man was actually now asking to share the seat with Stephen. Other men were standing in the aisle. He couldn’t possibly bring his case before a public forum in which there were more strangers than acquaintances; he had used Fabian tactics at the wrong time, and now he would have to wait for his opportunity. The man beside him, a stranger to Stephen, touched the magazine. “Through with this?” “No,” said Ste — brusquely, and opened it again and glared at it with un- seeing eyes He went into a dull trance which was ended only by the brakeman bawling “ Oak- mont!” at him, and even then the brake- man had to baw! it out three times before Stephen’s mood was penetrated. He de- scended blindly from the car steps and cast about for Hamlin; Hamlin came up behind him and linked arms with him. “Well, young man!” Stephen shook himself free. ‘‘Let’s get out of this. I want to explain to you that ag . ““Nonsense!”” Mr. Hamlin took his arm again, “‘ Don’t ever explain anything, Bene- dict. Your friends don’t need it, and your enemies—if you’ve got any—wouldn’t be- lieve you anyhow. But you fly high, don’t you?” Stephen was in such haste to speak that he stammered badly. ‘You see, there’s another man of the same name, and ——”’ Mr. Hamlin laughed. ‘‘Come on, now, pull something new! There isn *t another Stephen Benedict in Oakmont, is there? Why, the thing’s absolutely photographic. And besides, I’m on the inside.” Stephen’s throat was arid. “Did you did you tell those fellows on the train - “Why, I simply said I knew positively it’s a fact.” “Oh, Lord!” said Stephen. “Mr. Ham- lin, you’ve got to listen! I —— **Now, hold your horses a minute. Don’t you worry a bit about that innuendo in the aper. Of course it’ll hit Oakmont right tween the eyes, but what of it? We all know what kind of man you are. Heaven's sakes, you aren't ashamed of it, are you? She’s a wonderful actress, and they teil me she’s a mighty fine girl. Some of Charlie Coolidge’s friends in Detroit know her in- timately. Why, if Charlie knew her he’d bray ey? it from dawn to dark.” ut, Mr. Hamlin, it’s all a mistake. I didn’t know I was giving Charlie that bill, and (Continued on Page 57)

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\f THE SATURDAY EVENING POST The cost of shoveling—sand, ashes, cinders, stone, etc.—was too high in a large industrial plant in an eastern city. It was out of all proportion to the cost of many other operations. The leak was discovered and corrected by an operations expert in the Mechanical Department. ‘*The trouble has been,’’ he reported to the General Manager —‘‘$5.00 a day men and $3.00 a day shovels.”’ ‘*What’s the answer ?P”’ **One and three-eighths inches.”’ **You win,’’ said the General Manager. ‘*What does it all mean P”’ ‘*Wear in the business end of the shovel —that is, the main shoveling edge. I found shovels worn down to half size still in use. Now, it’s human nature for all the men in a gang to shovel at the same rate of speed. Therefore, these worn shovels meant that some men were doing from one-third to one-half less shoveling than others in the same gang. On every $5.00 in wages paid to these men your re- turn in work done was about $3.00. ‘*Now, we know that when a shovel with an‘11% inch shoveling length when new has worn down 1% inches, it’s eton- omy to junk it. Theoretically a man should fill his shovel full. Practically even the best man doesn’t. The heap rests on the forward three-fourths of the shovel. When wear cuts the shoveling surface down 1% inches, or nearly one- sixth, the heap is reduced about one-third. Get the point? Do your $5-a-day men use $3-a-day shovels? **Only the best shovel can keep the cost of this junking policy from being prohib- itive. That’s why we use Wyoming Red Edge shovels. They put up a gamer fight for that 134 inches than any other shovel we know of. In fact, they will outwear an ordinary shovel two or three times. ‘*Naturally shovel costs are now higher than formerly, but shoveling costs promise to be thousands of dollars less each year.”’ Great railway systems, mines, large industries and other big users are eloquent in their testimony to the endurance of Red Edge shovels, scoops and spades. The blades are of Chrome-Nickel steel, heat treated, hard as tool steel, tough as spring steel, which is why they wear down so slowly. They are equipped with handles of second growth Northern White Ash. Three severe tests of both blade and handle insure a shovel that gives the buyer real economy in the cost of shoveling. (Note on each blade the mark left by the Brinell test.) Whether you buy shovels in quantity or only one now and then, you want Red Edge —a durable togl on every kind of a hard job. How Red Edge shovels became the leaders is an absorbing —yes, romantic—story of modern industry. It is told in pamphlet form. Ask our distributor—probably the leading supply house or hardware store in your town—for it, or write us. THE WYOMING SHOVEL WORKS Wyoming, Pennsylvania WYOMING | RED EDGE SHOVELS - SCOOPS - SPADES WYOMING NP YF

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 one cvuanypienee “OEREDOCUEDODTEAEDEREL ODEN OT NORGE ELE LT OSLRDEDOT EON FERS RS GnLG), ' Ayn i Mh, 4 P i ISA nenavcuenornanenncvueenvonsinnseunenssuennnavianettttl inant INNA ESS NENA ROARAGHUU HOS HUNHRODAAOARLUDNAUAY AIAN EMAAR US NOTA RUA CSUN AULA sLLiil Entrance, British Embassy, Washington, D.C. WILELAewK NIGHT The Motor of Monarchs and the Monarch of Motors Their Majesties the King of England and the _ tion of flunkeyism by being eternally at beck King of Spain use the Silent Knight Motor. — and call. We mention this, not as a tribute to Royalty ‘The Knight Motor has no valves to grind, but as Royalty’s tribute to quality! service but adds to its efficiency and power, They chose it because it is a motor that will — and like a fine violin whose quality improves not falter in the performance of its duty, and, — with age, the longer you use it the better it perhaps, because it preserves the ancient tradi- —_ performs. Willys-Knight Booklet on Request WILLYS-OVERLAND, INC., Toledo, Ohio THE JOHN N. WILLYS EXPORT CORPORATION, New York o/ WILLYS-OVERLAND LIMITED, Toronto, Canada (4, . ee eee ee ee ee eee eT V8te ve var ost | TUT j hh} — TTTTTATETHUTTTTTTTEPT TREATED itl

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a ————— neeeneaee a _— —s oe a =m (Continued from Page 54) “T’ll bet you didn’t! But what’s the odds? I’ll tell you something: It’s nobody’s business but your own what you do with your money. One man’ s extravagant one way and another man’s extravagant an- other way. The only mistake you made was in not letting us know you’re a friend of Miss Cartwright’s. Then this wouldn’ t have caused so much as a ripple.” Stephen was almost apoplectic. “T’m trying my best to tell you ——’ Mr. Hamlin tightened his grip. ‘I’ve got an idea! Why don’t you bring Miss Cartwright out here next Sunday? You bring her out, and Mrs. Hamlin’ll have a little tea for her. That'll choke off any talk, and besides she’s somebody that everybody wants to meet. Do that, why don’t you?” They were abreast of th'e Hamlins’ lawn, and Stephen was still incoherent. He was endeavoring to say that he had never met the lady in all his life, that he had never as much as laid eyes on her, but he was also striving against the temptation to quit under fire. Hamlin wouldn’t accept the truth; there was no use in arguing with him until Stephen could bring forward his proofs, and at the earliest he couldn't bring them forward until to-morrow. In the meantime Coolidge would probably be in the same frame of mind as Hamlin. Betty Paget too. He could imagine how stunned she would be, how completely bowled over by amazement, and perhaps by wrath, and even—as he hoped with all his heart—by a wave of jealousy. Well, it would serve her right. A paralyzing inspiration came to him; he thrust it away, but it fought back as often as he thought he had conquered it. If he had won the oblique reputation, why not take the ephemeral glory that went with it? Coolidge’s money was safe; Ham- lin’s money was safe; Stephen knew for an utter certainty that with fresh credit his business success was insured. Instead of stultifying himself by proving the chain of errors, why shouldn't he enjoy the benefits fate had tossed into his lap? No one would be harmed; Coolidge and Hamlin would get their money back, and Betty Paget might conceivably be brought to terms. It was a demoralizing inspiration, and it car- ried Stephen clear off his balance. Another thought! If he elected to prove the facts, would Coolidge and Hamlin be- lieve him? Or would they opine that in his desperation he had tried to pry credit out of them by fair means or foul, and:that if Gossip hadn’t printed its article hé never would have confessed at all? This, too, was a factor to be considered, for when Hamlin and Coolidge once comprehended the pov- erty Stephen had so far concealed, they might readily believe anything else about him. Many a man is honest until the last ditch, and then forfeits his integrity in a final scramble to preserve his business existence, “Come on, Be nedict,” said Mr. Hamlin encouragingly. ‘‘Give the ne ighborhood a treat. If you say you'll do it I'll have Mrs. Hamlin fix up the details and confirm it over the phone. Come on—will you bring her out Sunday?” Stephen, battling against was forced a step backward. “I—I don’t know if she could come.” He was promptly blighted by the conscious- ness of downfall. “Well, you do your best. Mrs. Hamlin’ll call you. See you later, Benedict. Bear up!” temptation, THE SATURDAY Stephen went lethargically toward the inn. He couldn’t understand himself at all, but he understood very clearly what he had just done. He had burned his bridges. His philosophy had always told him that it was more important to be friends with himself than with anybody else. In the past half minute he had sacrificed that friendship. And yet when he remembered the salient points of his career he was savagely persuaded that Oakmont was responsible for his dereliction. At college he had been a hero; and in the Army he had been a genius—a routine genius of such repute that he had been withdrawn from his division and made a cog in the machine at Chaumont, and eventually promoted from the silver baby pins of a first lieutenant to the gilded oak leaves of a major. But Oakmont had belittled him—be- littled him until he had begun to ape Charlie Coolidge—and then Oakmont had fawned upon him. And look at the farce of to-day! Mr. Anthony Hamlin had always treated him with courtesy, but never with fraternity until Gossip had printed this yarn about a popular actress. He wondered if Oakmont would follow Mr. Hamlin’s example. It was a fine comment on the value of hard work and serious purpose as against a glit- tering bit of notoriety. A flood of resentment washed over him, and he snapped his head back, straightened his shoulders and went up the steps of the Oakmont Inn like a staff officer reporting at headquarters. When he came down to dinner it was evi- dent that rumor had preceded him, but as soon as he had intercepted a few of the glances sent in his direction, and realized that they were composed of the same ele- ments as Mr. Hamlin’s actual remarks, he lifted his chin a trifle more and became imperial. By the time that the salad was served he had disproved the theory that a man can’t swagger while he’s sitting down. He felt horribly guilty, but he also felt a thrill of excitement which sometimes counteracted the guilt; he told himself that he was going to furnish Oakmont with the prize sensation of its history—and then move somewhere else. In the meantime, let the world roll on! At eight o’clock he was summoned to the telephone, and when he heard Betty Paget's voice, and caught the delicate note of agitation in it, he knew that a minor triumph was in the making. ‘Stephen! Charlie’s been dining with us. I’m going to send him home in just a min- ute; I wish you would come over here at once!” Her tone ruffled him at the same time that it gave him revenge. Even in the tele- phone booth he kept his chin high; nobody could dictate to him like that. And without hesitation he resisted her orders, for it spontaneously occurred to him that this was strategic. “Sorry, Betty, but I’m afraid I can’t.” There! Now she could estimate how much influence she had lost. “Stephen, you must!” “Can't do it, Betty.” He threw into his voice the utmost of friendly nonchalance, and hoped that she got it. There was a pause. “Why can’t you? where?” It was as good a reason as any, adopted it. “Why, yes, I am.” Are you going any- and he EVENING POST I don’t think it’s bs x you? “Well,” he said, “it’s pretty important.” And he knew that his intuition had been correct, and that he was stirring her, for the first time, to a genuine emotion. Another pause, during which he remem- bered how Betty and the others had laughed at somebody's comic picture of Stephen hanging round a stage door. It was significant that Betty didn’t seem to have a laugh in her system “You'd better come over.” “I’m awfully sorry, but it can’t be done. “Where are you going? In town?” She was making it very easy for him to economize on imagination. “Why, yes, I might.” “Oh!” This time the hiatus was even more prolonged. ‘I suppose you think you’ve behaved in a very gentlemanly fashion. After all you said to me—and then have it turn up that you’re giving presents like that to another girl—an actress!” Stephen interrupted her. “Didn’t you say that Charlie Coolidge is over there?” “That” s different.” “Ts it? He recalled the quality of her laugh on the evening that he had kissed her, and how a part of his delusion had perished then, and how a little more of it had perished as a result of her subsequent be hav ior. “Oh, I suppose } you'll say you're dear old frie nds, and - ° “Very likely I will, Betty. Very likely I will. But I never asked you.” An odd little sound came to him; it might have been either a sniff or a sob. Probably a sniff. “Are you going in town to see her?’ This gave him an opening for a slashing offensive, and he took it. “T might. I'll tell you one thing, Betty: If I do she won't try to make me over into somebody different.” For a full quarter minute nothing else came over the wire. “All right, Stephen. Good-by.” Still holding the receiver and marveling at the implied avowal she had just made to him, he almost yielded to a wild impulse to call her back and to swear that he loved her and that it was all a silly mistake and that he would rush to her as fast as his feet would cz yd him. But the impulse weakened as he recognized the power that was in his grasp. She had demanded of him a change of character, and he had tried to satisfy her; very well, she could change her own character now if she cared enough. She could stop flirting. The power was in his hands, and at -his biisure he would transform Miss Paget into a Mahomet, while he himself would play the stellar réle of the mountain. He would carry out his bluff; he would go to town and—here he conceived an im- promptu so brilliant that it made him dizzy —he would seek out Miss Cartwright, and show her a copy of Gossip and unravel the whole scenario to her. She was a friend of the other Mr. Benedict's; and the copy of Gossip would be an adequate introduc- tion. What if she proved to have a heart and a sense of humor? .What if she proved to have a woman’s understanding? What oh, glorious fantasy!—if she could be per- suaded to accept an invitation for tea at the Hamlins’ on Sunday afternoon? as important as this ” (TO BE CONCLUDED) asked her what I've TAAot Mame Deen Lectin Can SS, Autumn’s going, helter-skelter, Winter's coming — Get a Pelter! You need fear no sn In these raw Nowsube TY breez res; Though you be a football bug You can sit with comfort snug In the shelter Of a Pelter, Rooting like a lunatic At each plunge and pass and kick While or sneezes with cold the crowd may quiver, You will never shake a shiver With a Pelter ‘round your form You'll be cosy, comfy, warm Shelteved now—and sheltered later When the wintry chill is greate r— For a Pelter’s built of leather, - Made to put the cold to rout. Then for wet and sleety weather Turn the Gabardine side out Either side is trig and smart, Tatlored with consummate art In a Pelter You can welter Through the most tremendous snow storm (Pelter ( oats give way to no storm). And a Pelter’s always trig It’s anall-round fellow’s rig; It’s a bear for looks and shelter W nter’s coming Get a Pelter! For men, women the nan International Duplex Coat Co. 14-1 16 Fifth pate New York City 57 rag . Sei eetieiinteee te Se ee

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' 4), if is UCCESSFUL, clean-cut men of business know the importance bodily comfort in handling the i\ "A / . — ~\ of Ds day’s work. That's why so many wear athletic undergarments. like summer in your office. The light, free fit of a TOPKIS Union Suit enables you to sit at your desk in per- fect ease. Outdoors you meet the weather with a top-coat —light or heavy - a» Preshrunk nainsook. Expertly tailored. Low priced. $1. Drawers . 8 Union Suits Men's Athletic ye Men's Shirts, 85c ; 5c Boys’ Union, Girls’ Bloomer Union and Children's Waist Union Suits $l 00 lealer, Look for the TOPKIS \wk TopKis Red Diamond war rs BROTHERS COMPANY Wilmington, Delaware 350 Broadway, New York City General Sales Offices: Athletic Underwear had picked out the right ticket; | seemed now quite hopeless. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 SEED OF THE SUN (Continued from Page 23) there would be a chance for a drawing-room and berth on the slower Pacific Limited leaving Thursday at one o’clock. He was the very flower of ticket agents, a young man who could pass before a rack the length of a city block and never hesitate until he a young man who could hold a telephone receiver between his shoulder and the lobe of his left ear while he barked mysterious numbers into the mouthpiece and never missed a number, despite the fact that other and equally im- portant ticket agents were walking on his toes, gouging him in the ribs and repeating comic anecdotes into his disengaged ear. “For Thursday afternoon, madam,” an- nounced the prodigy at last as he dropped several squares of cardboard and wisps of paper into an envelope. While Anna was counting out her money Kipps stood with his inquisitive gray eyes peering just over the edge of the counter. “Gee!” he muttered. “If I had that much dough I'd buy an airplane.” There was little left to do but wait for Thursday, but Anna filled the first hours of intervening time with further efforts to see Mr. Sato. To approach him, as at first she had tried, by means of a call at his office Indeed she repeated her attempt Tuesday afternoon, and was again smoothly passed from clerk to clerk. She failed to reach as high a point as the vice president this time. The sweetest Japanese in the world almost wept when he told her that Mr. Sato was not in. Anna was too sensible a woman to harbor resentment against the busy establishment. True, she had no reason to believe that Sato was not in. “He out!” seemed to be the only words of Cnglish Mr. Sato’s clerk could say. She heard this phrase often enough dur- ing her second visit to his headquarters. Later on, when at her hotel telephone she tried the simple ruse of calling him by wire, again she was told ‘“‘He out!” in many degrees of politeness. She was unable to take offense at any of this. Why should so important a man as K. Sato bother with a woman on an en- tirely unknown mission? If his assistants lied amiably, even that was but an act of diplomatic mendacity borrowed from the white man’s books of ethics. Any man of affairs on a busy day would have shielded himself from interruption just as Sato had done; and Sato had a reputation for being the most unapproachable of his race. She clung doggedly to her program, how- ever, not because she hoped to come face to face with Sato, but because she wanted to feel that she had tried to do something in | behalf of the poor Awagas. | method and considered other means. | fluence, of course, | if you have the right sort. vocal In- will take you anywhere But what in- Finally Anna relinquished the | fluence could Anna summon to open Sato’s | at Bly. closed door? She thought once of Tazumi. He undoubtedly could have touched the right button, but Tazumi was out of the question. At last she hit upon direct action, which often succeeds where circumlocution fails. She wrote a letter to K. Sato, Presi- dent of the Natural Energy Fruit and Land Company. “My dear Mr. Sato: I am writing to beg a favor. Will you give me a little time that I may explain a matter affecting the success and happiness of two of your own people? I realize that you are a tremendously busy man, and it is only because I feel that great injustice might come with delay in this case that I am anxious to see you as soon as possible. ““My business—which I could not fully explain to your subordinates—concerns I. Awaga, pastor of the Japanese church I feel assured that I can appeal to your fair-mindedness, regardless of your faith, because you must sympathize with this claim on the part of a humble country- man of yours; and his only offense, I assure you, consists in his unselfish sacrifice to his convictions. “Hoping that I may be permitted to talk with you, however briefly —— Anna wrote this on the second-grade | stationery of the Royalmere, signed, sealed and addressed it and sent it away with the favor of a special-delivery stamp. The post box had scarcely swallowed up her letter when she was tempted to break a Federal law and fish it out again at the end of a hatpin. She had a picture of her plea being delivered to an undersecretary of the Natural Energy Fruit and Land Company to be passed up the line, possibly as far as the desk of the second vice presi- dent. There it would flutter to the waste- basket. Or possibly the egg-faced office boy opened the mail; in which case her letter would drop in the first wastebasket instead of the sixth or seventh. She wrote this letter on Tuesday night. At five o’clock Wednesday afternoon she was just coming into the shabby foyer of the Royalmere when a woman behind the desk leaned over and said: ‘Gentleman in the parlor for you, Mrs. Bly.” “Oh! A gentleman, did you say?” “‘ Japanese gentleman.” It was too easy to draw a conclusion from this announcement. Sato, the mys- terious and powerful, had harkened to her humble plea and sent an envoy or come in person! The sitting room, a plush-upholstered dungeon on the second floor, held a solitary figure when Anna entered its dimly lighted depths. In the shadowy atmosphere de- tails were obscured, but Anna knew that the neat little person sitting so upright beside the lace curtains was a Japanese. He rose and bowed as she approached. Baron Tazumi! And he fad taken her hand in his! Anna released his cold, silken fingers, and it was an effort to be civil to this man, always courteous, always helpful, whom she had resolved never to see again. His manner, however, was so friendly and natural, so full of his former thoughtfulness for her that her qualms disappeared almost upon his first word. “T am sorry to be a little late,” he was saying in the voice of one who has kept an appointment tardily. “It is almost impos- sible to be punctual at this time of day, when Market Street is so crowded.” She had no reason for being impolite, but do what she could, she was unable to reply. She seated herself stupidly as he laid his gloves and walking stick beside his pearl-gray hat. “T understand that little Zudie is mar- ried,”” he said as soon as he had taken a chair. ‘‘I was immensely pleased to hear that. A fine chap, Footridge! A little nar- row perhaps, but who isn’t? And did you get a good price for your farm?” “A very good price,” said Anna, finding her voice. “‘The terms were better than I expected.” “T am very glad of that. I was afraid your inexperience might lead you into a bad bargain. They are very sharp people, these land speculators.” had a great deal of trouble with my Japanese farmer, ” she went so far as to inform him. “His inefficiency on my be- half and efficiency on his own made it so that I had to sell to save myself.” ““My dear Mrs. Bly! I am wretchedly sorry to hear that. You should have let us know.’ Since when had Baron “us”? “And in the matter of these Awagas, Mrs. Bly,” he went smoothly on, “I think you will agree with me that many very estimable people can make trouble for a whole community.” “Baron Tazumi,” Anna broke in, a sus- picion having obtruded itself, “‘have you come to me as a representative of the Natural Energy Company?” “T shall never come to you, Anna-san, except as a friend,” he replied, his voice losing its overtone of politeness and revert- ing to an earnest bass. ‘I confess I can’t quite understand,” ad- mitted Anna. “There is no reason for you to know that I am here. I wrote a letter to Mr. Sato, asking if he would talk to me about the Awagas.” “My dear Anna-san,”’ cut in Tazumi, “‘would it please you better to talk to him?” “Frankly,” she said, “‘it would please me better.” “Very well,’”’ answered Baron Tazumi, “then you have your wish. You are talk- ing to him now. He leaned a little forward as though to make himself plainer as he added: “I am K. Sato.” Tazumi become xxx T WAS Thursday morning, and the Bly trunks having just been sent away, there was nothing to do but wait for a quarter (Continued on Page 60)

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 59 | The very nature of this busi- bility, and of our ability to ness imposes a large responsi- meet it. i bility upon us. is Our physical equipment in- Our product is wheels—funda- cludes five great plants—the mental factors in transportation. most extensive wheel-building facilities in the world. Our customers are manufac- turers of motor trucks, tractors, | But still more important is our ! and passenger cars, daily adding twelve-year foundation of many units to the nation’s building good wheels. / transportation facilities. e / Our whole aim and purpose f The automotive industry looks has always been, and will always to us, not only for the bulk of _ be, to give every manufacturer 1 ben its wheels but for good wheels, —and through him every indi- : worthy of its confidence. vidual user of Hayes Wheels— the very utmost of wheel service We are jealous of our responsi- — and efficiency. Automotive Manufacturers Who Use Hayes Wheels W. H. Allison Co., Detroit, Mich Elgin Motor Car Co., Argo, Ill Nash Motors Co., Kenosha, Wis Auburn Automobile Co., Auburn, Ind Ford Motor Co., Detroit, Mich Nat’! Motor Car & Vehicle Corp., Indianapolis Barley Motor Car Co., Kalamazoo, Mich. Gardner Motor Co., St. Louis, Mo Nordyke & Marmon Co., Indianapolis, Ind Briscoe Motors Corp., Jackson, Mich General Motors Export Co., New York City Pan American Motors Corp., Decatur, I!) Buick Motor Co., Flint, Mich Huffman Brothers Motor Car Co., Elkhart, Ind W. A. Patterson Co., Flint, Mich J. I. Case T. M. Co., Racine, Wis. Hupp Motor Car Corp., Detroit, Mich Peerless Motor Car Co., Cleveland, Ohio Chevrolet Motor Co., New York City Jackson Motors Corp., Jackson, Mich Premier Motors Corp., Indianapolis, Ind Columbia Motors Co., Detroit, Mich Jordan Motor Car Co., Cleveland, Ohio Samson Tractor Co., Janesville, Wis Commonwealth Motors Co., Chicago, I! Maibohm Motors Corp., Sandusky, Ohio Stanley Motor Carriage Co., Newton, Mass. Geo. W. Davis Motor Car Co., Richmond, Ind Maxwell Motor Sales Corp., Detroit, Mich Westcott Motor Car Co., Springfield, Ohio Dodge Brothers, Detroit, Mich Mitchell Motors Co., Racine, Wis Willys Overland Co., Toledo, Ohio Dupont Motors Incorporated, Wilmington, Del Willys Corp., Elizabeth, New Jersey Jackson, Michigan j Branches at Albion, Mich., and Anderson, Ind. Hayes Motor Truck Wheel Co., St. Johns, Mich. Hayes Wheel Co., Lid., of Canada, Chatham, Ont., and Windsor, Ont World’s Largest Builder of Wheels—Wire, Wood, Steel ee a COOLEY PO a ee i . - geek ET RN ew

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When the clothes are the opening of the machine brings them the hot ready to in the adjustable wringer. through clothes, washed, up out of water, wring out Cas-Heated Electric Operated BETTER WASHING Easier washing and perfect re sults are yours with the Ever hot Almetal Household Steam Laun dry. Our new booklet tells why. Write for a free copy and the name of the nearest dealer Naitonal Distributors MANUFACTURERS DISTRIBUTING COMPANY 410 Fullerton Building St. Louis, Missouri THE SATURDAY (Continued from Page 58) past eleven, when the taxi would come to take the little family to the ferry. “What are you doing, Kipps?” asked Anna, who had been seated at the window trying to read by the light which sifted through imitation Nottingham lace. “Fixing my necktie,"’ replied the he boy, his angular elbows flopping before the mirror. ‘Please don’t!” she begged. half an hour tying it for you.” ‘There never was a woman born,” de- clared the sage, ‘‘who knew how to tie a necktie. See, moms! You don’t do it by making a noose and sticking the end through. You pass it over and round like that Kipps illustrated his lecture by twisting the strip of silk into his own idea of fashion, which, though no better than his mother’s, suited Kipps. He had on a very new suit of clothes and a pair of bright tan shoes which squeaked as he walked. Altogether he looked the model boy. “I don’t like this idea of dolling up every day,”” he complained. “The minute we start East I begin looking like a Molly. I think it’s awful efeminine.” “It’s what?” asked Anna, cerned. “*Efeminine,”’ he repeated. “Where do you pick up such words? “Oh, I read a great deal,” he informed her loftily as he shook out his new gray coat with plaits in the back and began putting it on. After this was done he slouched on the window sill and continued his interrogation. “What's the big idea East, anyhow?” ‘Do you prefer California, dear?’ “Who wouldn't?” “But Aunt Julia wants to put you in school, Kipps.”’ “Aunt Julia! She'd put me in dresses like a girl if she had her way. Aw, moms! I'm pretty near grown up anyway. I've got about all the education a man needs for a practical business life. I could get a fine opening with Dune Leacy if I wanted to strike out for myself.” “Would you strike out and leave your mother, Kipps?” “You bet I wouldn't!” he replied after what was undoubtedly an inward struggle. ‘And that’s why I'm following along. Somebody's got to look out for you, moms.” “‘Come here and kiss me!” The affectionate demonstration was cut off by a parrot call from Susan Skelley de- manding to know why Kipps had opened another hand bag and what it was he had spilled across Nan’s new shoes, “Susan never gives me a chance to con- centrate on anything,”’ complained the young genius as he passed into the room beyond and engaged himself in a violent argument with his sister. The hour dragged slowly. Through the Royalmere’s shoddy curtains Anna could look down into Geary Street and study the ways of city-living Japanese. Most of the store fronts were lettered in flowing kana or the more elegant characters borrowed from China centuries ago. Across the way were several boarding houses with urbane Japanese passing in and out. A little be- yond these high-stooped houses a low door was marked “Baths” in English above bold brush strokes in the island language From her place at the window she could see a little cobbler busily at work shaping soles at a complicated electric machine, while his partner rat-tatted patiently by the door. Japanese women passed by, trundling gocarts or carrying children against their shoulders, their bodies swayed back by the weight of their young. A Jap- anese laundry wagon backed against the eurb. It bore an English name—chosen perhaps to disguise its Oriental proprietor- ship. At a corner farther uptown a Jap- anese bookseller was dressing his window with tinted lithographs of American beau- ties in the deminude From her height Anna could study the brown faces. Those of the women were as unwrinkled as though they had been enam eled with porcelain; those of the men were puckered into serious lines. They gave the appearance of men worked until everything but a lust for work had been driven from their characters— men born of tired parents to a heritage of hard ambition. They smiled mechanically, they bowed mechani- cally. Behind them stood the invisible slave driver, goading them on to reclaim “T spent truly con- 9” about our going their souls from an age-long bondage. EVENING POST ‘Who are the great of the earth?” again the woman asked, gazing like a disembodied spirit down upon a scene as busy as any in the little town which she had quit because Japan had conquered it. “If singleness of purpose is great, then Japan is great. If patience to endure is admirable, then Japan is admirable. The will to power ——” The phrase struck cold upon her heart. Prussia had worshiped that thought before her man-made Valhalla fell and the houses of the gods were steeped in death’s twilight. Busily in and out, under the picturesque signs which she could not read, dapper business men, smartly clad young women, dumpy matrons came and went. Every face was marked with the expressionless ex- pression which spelled “ambition.” -Am- bition for what? At a second-story window across the street a child of three appeared and peeped with elfin black eyes down upon a problem equally insoluble to child or man, yellow or white. The huge, swollen face of a Jap- anese woman came into view beside the inquisitive head. For an instant the mother soul seemed to shine out through the mask as her heavy shoulderg drooped and her eyes were turned tow ard the little face. A telephone bell rang out in Anna’s nar- row room, urging her away from her thoughts. “Mr. Johnson calling,’”” announced the hotel operator. Anna went down to the reception room to meet Henry Johnson, who, faithful to his trust, had come to report. As he rose be- fore her he looked starv ed and prophetic in his shabby plaid suit and 1 Bohemian necktie. ‘Omega has arrived,” he said in a deep voice. ‘It isn’t quite finished,”’ she told him, attempting to brighten his long, solemn face. “Tt is the longest letter in the alpha- bet,” he replied. ‘According to Milton’s inaccurate account, it took Lucifer longer than union hours to tumble from heaven to hell. Rome took her time about going to pieces, you will remember. Nothing stops all at once. And in my case I have re- quired a number of days to settle up your affairs on the ranch.” Henry’s long fingers went probing into a greasy vest pocket to bring out various folded papers. “Your storage warehouse receipt,” he announced, presenting the first one, “and a receipt for your automobile. I left it for sale, mentioning the price which you re- quired. Your trunks you received, I suppose?” “Thank you, Henry. They came Sat- urday.”’ ‘lam surprised. It all goes to show that I might succeed if only I had sufficient will power to keep my attention on one thing for a long time. Do you know, Mrs. Bly, that the months I spent on your farm repre- sented the longest time I have ever stayed in one place since I was twenty-five years old?” She motioned him to a chair and sat be- side the anomaly for whom she had learned to feel an affectionate interest. “Why don’t you get the habit, Henry? si “You mean sticking at things?” He laughed bitterly. “‘Sticking is not meant for a thing like me. Staying in one place indicates a healthy mind—I am a diseased condition, Mrs. Bly. Two good stocks, never intended to interbreed, have come together in my poor soul and body. I am like a mongrel attached toa tin can—I try to escape it by running. “Henry,” began Anna impulsively, feel- ing that she might not see him again, “you have always been so bitter against inter- marriage. Do you remember what you promised me a few weeks ago?” “The day you found me making metry with Japanese newspapers?” ‘Yes. You said you why ii “Why I hate myself,” “WwW as og mother Japanese, Henry? “No, the Japanese was my father,” he said, a rough note coming into his voice. ‘But your name’s American.’ “What's in a name?” He snapped his skinny fingers over the Shaksperean ques- would tell me Henry supplied. or tion. “Henry Johnson is a ready-to-wear name-—easy to get, easy to cast aside. My father? Oh, probably you have read his name a hundred times in the newspapers. You would recognize it if I told you which I shall not do.” “You've never explained anything about yourself,”’ she reminded him. “Why explain the inexplicable?” he asked, but suddenly the habitual look of November 20,1920 sarcastic humor fell away from the warring features and his eyes were filled with savage pathos as he said, ‘My mother—she was an American. Do you really wish to know how I came into being?” “So much!” replied Anna. “T’ll tell you about her. It’s rather a story —Euripides might have made quite a decent tragedy out of my mother; but people don’t tear out their eyes nowadays. They tear out their hearts and get a polite obituary in the morning papers. I'll leave my mother’s story with you. It’s all I have to give in return for your kindness.” The oddly matched features were stern as granite as he went on, “My mother’s been dead a long time now. She’s just an- other forgotten episode back in the Meiji epoch. My father, I think, still says pray- ers to her tablet. It’s a delicate attention, isn’t it, to apologize to a block of wood after the damage is done? “He’s an intellectual man, my father, and he belongs to what in France they would cal] the small nobility. He was one of the first Japanese of position to drop his prejudice and go in for money-making. The old nobility, you know, used to regard merchants as something lower than pawn- brokers. They say in Japan to-day that our last gentleman died when General Nogi committed seppuku, which you inaccu- rately call hara-kiri. But my father was very radical for a nobleman. He came to Boston nearly forty years ago, represent- ing the silk industry; and there he met my mother. “In Boston, you know, they are very fair-minded on the subject of race. My father became popular, and he met this pretty lady, whose parents had been aboli- tionists; they had filled her with romance about the dark-skinned races. The mar- riage was quite a natural thing; wasn’t it? ‘I remember my mother very slightly, because she died when I was a small boy. I have an impression of a colorless, sad woman who wore her Japanese clothes well, you know how Japanese women look when they try to dress like Americans! It must have been a dog’s life. She seemed always to have an apologetic look, because it’s impossible for the white woman to carry chains gracefully as the Japanese women do, “IT don't want to give the impression that my father is a bad man. He merely lived the life which society required of him. Had he taken my mother with him to din- ner parties he would have been regarded as insane. Public dinners are for gentlemen and for women hired to entertain them. Here in America you would not invite ladies to a prize fight, would you? It was no fault of my father’s that the social sys tem demanded that his wife should be left at home. “It was many years after my mother died that I began to realize just what had killed her. It was what in Tokio they call matrimonial felicity and in Boston they call neglect. “His social obligations kept him away from home most of the time. As ladies of quality were not allowed to appear at large public dinners, his feminine compan- ions were naturally of the geisha class. If my mother had been head of her own household, as she would have been in America, it might not have been so trying. But there was always my honorable grand- mother to rule the place with a rod of iron. “Tt was the rod oi iron and the cord of silk that killed my mother. Through the thin partitions of my bedroom I used to hear her crying in the night. Once I slid away the panel and crept in to her, and I heard her praying to a Christian God that she might die before another morning. My grandmother found me there and took care of me after that.” “You loved your mother a great deal?”’ asked Anna, touched and terrified. “That, too, I cannot say. I loved her dearly as a child. Then as a boy of twenty, when I realized what I was and renounced my father, I harbored a certain bitterness toward her. She had been a partner in the plot to make me what I am. His lank body drooped for just an in- stant, then he straightened up, a wild humor in his eyes. ““You remember the song of the soldiers, Am Ia Man or Am I a Mouse? Certainly I am a bad job upon the face of the earth. My father sent me to the university, and I became addicted to the fashionable thing in socialism. The Japanese students didn’t understand it, but they delighted in aping (Continued on Page 63)

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THE SATURDAY Measured Light Sells Imagine, if you can, trying to buy or sell goods without the yard, pound, bushel, quart or any other accurate unit of measurement! It seems almost impossible, yet merchants have until recently been compelled to make one of their most important purchases—lighting—without any guide except their own “judgment.” Now at last it has been made possible to buy store lighting on known standards. The Foot-Candle Meter (shown below) measures exactly the illumination you are actually getting —on the counter where the goods are examined and the sales are made! It measures lighting as simply as a thermometer measures heat. It furnishes a basis of aceurate knowledge from which can be determined the proper lighting for every department, allowing differences for basements and upper floors, light goods and dark goods, coarse goods like kitchenware as against goods with intricate patterns like jewelry—and all other differences for which allowance needs to be made in order to secure accurate, comfortable, sales-helping illumination. If you will call in the man who supplies your NATIONAL MAZDA lamps, he will arrange to take foot-candle readings throughout your store— without obligation, and with the certainty that helpful results will follow! NATIONAL LAMP WoRKS of General Electric Company 40 Nela Park, Cleveland, Ohio of these labels represents a Division of National Lamp Works equipped to give a complete lighting service EVENING POST te ene = 61 Goods . i (30) NATIONAL a a

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For Men, Women and Children DURHAM HOSIERY THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Three ways to make your hosiery wear longer — HEN hosiery wears out quicker than it should, there are three reasons for it: First: The fabric of the hosiery has been weakened in the process of dyeing, so that decay has started before you have worn the hosiery at all. Second: The reinforcings at points of wear are not strong enough. Third: The hosiery fits your feet too tightly. Therefore, if you are to get maxi- mum wear from your hosiery and keep its cost down, the following three things are necessary: First: It must be dyed by a harmless process which does not affect the fabric. The Durham Hosiery Mills have perfected and are using such a process. Second: The reinforcings at points of wear must be stronger than most reinforcings on hosiery. All Durable-DURHAM stockings and socks have this extra protection. Third: The feet of the hosiery must be full size. There is no skimp in Durable-DURHAM sizes. The most impressive proof of the superiority of Durable-DURHAM is the fact that it is the largest selling brand of hosiery in the world. When you wear it you will know why. DURHAM HOSIERY MILLS, Durham, N. C. Sales Offices: 88 Leonard St., New York Export Agents: Amory, Browne & Co., New York November 20,1920 = z | ‘ if 4 i z et . i | a nae ee | ’ ZU For Men, Women and Children Made Strongest Where the Wear is Hardest

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ss — (Continued from Page 60) the white man’s spirit of unrest. We plotted toy revolutions among ourselves, and it was well that I joined myself to the scum of the earth, because my mixture of blood made me a despised thing. “At last I cut away from my father. I have what you call a yellow streak, and it makes me hesitate upon decisions. But one night when I was a little drunker than usual I wrote him a letter and renounced all relationship to him. He had been mar- ried again, and had two sons by his Japa- nese wife, sc you see it was easy enough for him to agree with me. “And so my travels began,” he con- cluded with a twisted smile. ‘I’ve been on the road to Nowhere ever since. Every- thing has its purpose on the face of the earth. Mine is to serve as an object les- son.” ““You should think more of yourself,” said Anna. “ You have a fine mind, and all it needs is a sense of direction.” “You might as well say that I am a fine automobile, and all I need is a new engine. Do you know what Herbert Spencer said about me, possibly before I was born?” “T can’t imagine.’ “‘He wrote a letter to a white man living in Japan and warned him against the inter- marriage of whites and Japanese. Hybrids he said, are usually inferior. Nature rebels against bad mixtures of breed just as much in the human species as in the case of sheep or cattle. If you don’t believe it, look at me.” “‘So you have decided to go wandering again,” she mused after a kindly glance at the unsuccessful experiment. “IT have taken passage on the Shinyo Maru.” ““When does it leave?”’ “Next week.” “It may be a long time before we see each other again,” said Anna when they were shaking hands. ““We shall never meet again,” he de- clared. “I am returning to my father’s country to start a revolution on Christian principles. Until we have ceased to wor- ship the Emperor—a god of flesh—we can never hope to talk on equal terms with the modern world.” “‘ Are you entirely satisfied with the mod- ern world?” she asked. “No. It has behaved very badly, but it has a hope.”” The prophetic look came back into his long face as he said: “If it could learn of Japan as Japan has learned of it!” He stood there squinting his flat gray eyes and lingering over his final message. “T have said too much about the faults of Japan. Let the Japanese in me speak about America. If you had studied my little half brothers instead of hating them you might know by now how to save the soil of California. Long hours, economical lives, safe investments—see how they have stud- ied Poor Richard’s Almanac while American labor has been joy-riding between radical meetings. The Japanese is not afraid to be poor a few years in order to be prosperous a long time. Perhaps the Japanese do not deserve a share of California, but you can 't deny that they work for what they get.’ Henry Johnson held out his hand, and all his elfin humor had returned. “What a wonderful thrift-stamp cam- paigner I would make!” he grinned, and took his departure toward his shabby destiny. XXXI HE taxicab which was to bear them to the ferry was late, of course, and the trip down Market Street was embittered by Susan Skelley’s dark predictions. Of course they’d lose the boat, she pointed out, and again they would be thrown upon the tender mercies of ‘“‘thim dirty Chinees and thim winds that fair tear the hair off ye.” To Susan every train was met on Fri- day the thirteenth and every railroad schedule was a book of evil tidings. At the foot of Market Street the ferry clock assured them that it was a quarter to one, and they had time to spare; but the situation was complicated by Nan’s getting herself lost in a press of pedestrians going in exactly the wrong direction. Susan effected a rescue, however, and two burly porters took charge of the family luggage. Anna had seized hold of Kipps—the lat- ter loudly protesting that he was too old to be treated like a baby—and Susan was con- voying Nan through the jumbled, hurrying crowd, when Kipps stopped in his tracks, upsetting an Italian laborer and his mag- nificent blanket roll. THE SATURDAY “You see not’ing where you go?” snarled the hot-blooded victim of Kipps’ perver- sity, and Anna was formulating an apology when her attention was diverted by the boy’s ear-splitting yell: “Hello, Dunc! Here we are, Dunc! Aw, hur-ee up!” Dunc Leacy, looking like a traveling mil- lionaire in his sport coat and cap, was shouldering his way through the mob, and as he came up he winked at Kipps and roared: ‘‘Seems to me you're taking pretty poor care of your mother, sgnny. Here's a hole in the air. Let me give you a lift, Nannie. There you are!” That was all his explanation. Anna, torn between an impulse to run away and a de- sire to make her train, found herself sub- mitting without a word to Dunc Leacy’s uninvited management. In all the hurly- burly she had no time to ask how, when or why he had come. She satisfied herself with the sight of his broad shoulders, upon which Nan rode triumphant through the crowd. What a picture they made—the big, clean-looking man and her little girl, whose quiet beauty was always a joy! He set his decorous burden down as soon as they had reached convenient benches in the waiting room upstairs, and all that time his face was a puzzle. “Baggage all right, Anna?’”’ he asked in his matter-of-fact tone. “IT don’t know—please don’t bother about it,” she begged none too cordially. “Oh, pshaw!”’ he exclaimed in his usual self-disparagement. Whereupon he strode among the throng and was gone in search of the porters. Anna was given little time to delve into the enigma of his presence when he came back smiling. “How many pieces in your band wagon?” he ied cheerfully. “Eleven,” Kipps spoke up promptly. “All right,”” he sang out; “the count’s correct.” His eyes kept wandering wistfully over to Anna, but he seemed to find no respon- sive spark there, for he looked more serious when he asked: ‘“‘What decided you to go all in a rush like this?” “T didn’t know that we were in a rush,” she answered coolly. “T’ve been scouring the town for you,” he grunted. “I’ve exhausted all the reg- isters in the big hotels and quizzed every living being that I thought would know anything about you. It wasn’t till this morning that I got a trace.” “*Where?”’ she asked in the same guarded tone. “Baron Tazumi,” said he, and his voice betrayed his dislike. ‘When Susan had led Kipps and Nan nearer to the big door which was soon to slide open she unbent sufficiently to ask: ‘““Why did you want to see me now?” “You stole away from Bly without a sign,” he muttered. ‘I found the house gutted of furniture and a tribe of Japanese looking it over. It wasn’t right to me, Anna. Why don’t you ever tell me anything?” She held her peace, and he went on: “‘Couldn’t you at least have let me know you were going East so soon?”’ “TIT might have,” she agreed noncom- mitally. “Anna, you’ve got to marry me,” he said quietly. “What?” she asked as if she hadn't heard. ‘“Marry me,” he repeated distinctly, so pad that she was ashamed and looked awa rm te ~ too late to talk about that, Dunc.’ “Why “There are a great many reasons.” “What sort of reasons?” “I’m going East in a very few minutes. intend to stay there.” “‘Have you got your tickets?” This seemed a sordid question to be thrown into his song of despair. “Right here in my bag.” “You haven't any objection to my see- ing them, have you?” he asked in a tone which savored of a command. “Certainly not.” But she made no move toward her bag. “There have been two or three schedule changes this week,” he explained, holding out his hand. “It might be just as well if I looked them over.” She brought out a Southern Pacific en- velope and permitted him to examine the accordion-plaited length of pasteboard and the brilliant paper coupons. “T thought so!” he grunted, and dropped the envelope in his pocket. _ EVENING POST “Anything wrong with them, Dunc?” she asked, made nervous by his manner. ““Wrong!”’ His thick eyebrows gathered to a frown as he asked suddenly: ‘At least you'll per- mit me to see you to the train?” “It’s very kind of you, Dune,” she al- lowed. ‘“ Please tell me about those tickets.” “Tl have to some, that business out,” he answered gr . “You keep the party together pd I’ Hl take care of these things.” An instant later he disappeared down the steep stairway. He had asked her to marry him! Reali- zation of this came slowly to Anna’s numbed senses. He had arrived too late with an avowal which a few weeks ago would have meant heaven to her. What had occurred to have brought him so suddenly to her feet? Had the black-eyed girl from Oroville re- fused him and sent him out into the world to seek what consolation he could find? Anna’s heart was still bitter with the things he had said and the looks he had tn her 7 their angr parting. Even in er rage she saw his shining virtues, but they were tainted with faults she could never forgive. And he had, after taking a year of her heart, asked her to marry him! Anna was wakened from her reverie by the urgent voice of Kipps: P “Moms, they’re opening the door to the erry! ainly enough Anna could see the great door being rolled back majestically to reveal a wide passage through which travelers were crowding toward the one o’clock boat. “We'll be late!”’ snarled Susan Skelley, taking a ghoulish delight in the evil pre- diction. “What's holding us, moms?"’ Kippg was saying, but Anna stood irresolute. “Mr. Leacy has taken the tickets some- where to—oh, there he comes!” A fawn-colored sporting overcoat could be seen among the throng. But as it came near Anna saw that it encased a stout gen- tleman of Teutonic cast. “We'll miss the boat!’’ she lamented softly. “Of coorse we will,” cheerfully. “‘Dunc’s got the tickets,”’ decided Kipps. “and he’ ll make good all right. He always does.” The boyish faith apparently was built on sand. The crowd had passed through the broad door and thinned out alarmingly when Anna, after beseeching her little party to stay together, hurried downstairs to find the man who had never before proved false to his trust. Another crowd had formed in the waiting room below, but in all its varied costuming she could see noth- ing which resembled Dune Leacy’s vivid overcoat. What could have become of him? Panic now claimed her for its own. The clock had just jumped its larger hand an- other space forward to point a minute be- fore the hour of one. Anna stood irresolute, not knowing whether to take her family aboard the boat or to wait her chances here. Somewhere a voice was chanting monoto- nously to warn the world that all should be aboard. Belated passengers were going at an undignified run toward the open door. Anna’s eyes searched helplessly for any trace of Dunc Leacy. The stragglers passed in review. At last two roustabouts on the lower level began sliding the big door back upon its lock. The minute hand had jumped to one o'clock. Out in the ferry slip a deep- throated whistle roared farewell. Anna’s party had missed the train, and it was Dune Leacy’s fault! At that instant she caught sight of him through the steel-wire partition. A porter had just dumped the Bly baggage on the flagstones, and Dunc, jauntily puffing a cigarette, was handing a dollar bill to the obviously pleased menial. He paused for a moment to chat with the man and ex- change a joke or two. It was plain to see that Dune Leacy had not a worry in the world. He came leisurely through the gate, his every movement expressing indifference to the passage of time. An indulgent smile was on his lips. He threw away his cigarette and removed his cap with a gesture which intimated that he was meeting her for the first time that day. “Where have you been?” she asked rudely. “Looking out for your baggage, Anna,” he replied in an innocent tone. “T’ ve got it all safe for you. You can count it.’ (Continued on Page 65) agreed Susan almost Ea ee a a ie The BELMONT One of the reat lershin¢g Square Hotels Under the Direction of Joun McE. BowMAN President OPPOSITE GRAND CENTRAL TERMINAL Hand your bag to the Red Cap and say ‘‘Belmont’’ JAMES WOODS Vice-PRES. & MANAGING DIRECTOR Its quiet, conservative luxury makes a universal appeal. It has always been particularly attractive to men and women prominent in the business, financial and professional worlds. The Belmont is famed architecturally for the restfulness and beauty of its in- terior, the accessibility of its public rooms and its sbsolutely fireproof con- struction. 27 stories. 800 outside rooms. Every modern comfort, with the concentrated effort of expert man- agement along personal-service lines, makes The Belmont mean Home — in New York. As with the other Pershing Square Hotels, the traveler arriving at Grand Central Terminal goes directly to The Belmont without taxicab or baggsge transfer. Close to theatres, clubs, libraries, music and art exhibitions and but a few steps from Fifth Avenue — the heart of the fashionable shopping district. Surface cars and elevated at hand. Direct subway with all parts of the city. Other Hotels in New York under Mr. Bowman's direction; — The Biltmore Adjoins the Grand Central Termine! HotelCommodore**, recs a Grand Central Termina “Get off the Train "5 Turn to the Left.” Janes Wooos Murray Hill Hotel ?*x* Wee A Short Block from the Station The Ansonia ©°y. M Jum Vice-Pres. Broadway at 73rd Street inthe Riverside residential section PERSHING SQUARE HOTELS NEW YORK ee

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DB. a I Leading Pianists’ Playing Recorded on Player-Rolls Play the classics in the style of famous pianists you have heard, A score of them have made roll-records of their playing for you to play on your Gulbransen. You may play them as the artiste did, or modify them with your own interpretation The result is a quality of music and character of performance that only the few accomplished pianists can With the Martin Method as taught on Gulbransen Instruction Rolls you can interpret the playing ot these masters with most satisfy ing excellence “GD ce, ew Meet John Martin THE SATURDAY EVENING POST *ronounced Gul-BRAN-sen) ery-P November 20,1920 1lano Hundreds of High Class Songs on Player-Rolls Who sings in your family | Mother, Father, Daughtér, Son? Whocan play accompaniments sat isfactorily? Anybody, if you have aGulbransen. Anditencouragesall to sing, to love music, to enjoy home, to have friends in. Hundreds of high class songs for all occasions and purposes are ready for you in player rolls, words on the roll. You could be singing your favorites t night if you had a Gulbransen Keep Your Gulbransen in Good ‘Tune The Gulbransen responds to intelli gent tuning It is more enjoyable when kept in tune It is too fine an instrument to neglect Master of the Player-Piano (NOW ON RECITAL TOUR) YOU will find him a plain, unassuming business man. Yet how he does pull your heart strings with his music! How 1s it that a man without musical training can play so enchantingly ? Three years ago Mr. Martin was like a million or so other business men. Successful, overworked. Finally his health was impaired. He retired. His physician advised him to make music his recreation, because he got so much fun out of his player-piano Business Methods Applied to Learning to Play Like a good business man, Mr. Martin was not content todo anything indifferently. He must play better! Slowly he developed a method ot playing There was none to be bought or learned; he had to create one. And the results amazed everyone. Incidentally, his health is restored It was on a Gulbransen Player-Piano that Mr. Martin learned to play and developed his method. So we persuaded him to devote a year to concert and instruction tours for us. He is appearing in nearly 200 cities, under the auspices of the Gulbransen Dealer in each city. At these Gulbransen recitals, critics have set difficult tasks for Mr. Martin to equal, selecting compositions supposed to show the “ limita- tions” of the player-piano. And they are dumfounded at his skill and the simple method behind it. You should hear him. Gulbraneen Trade Mark. Learn from John Martin His Player-Piano Method Mr. Martin not only explains his method at these recitals, and plays for your enjoyment—he shows how anybody can learn to play as well as he, with the Gulbransen Instruction Rolls prepared by him. With these six lessons, covering the whole art of player-piano interpretation, it is easy to play intelligently, artistically, and produce every effect possible in hand playing. Mr. Martin’s Method—these six instruction rolls—now goes with every Gul- bransen Player-Piano without charge. If you already own a Gulbransen or some other player-piano, you may secure the entire course for $15.00. Ask the Gulbransen Dealer in your locality about these rolls and when Mr. Martin will appear. You can locate the dealer's store by the “ Baby at the Pedals” in his window. Or write us. Nationally Priced Gulbransen Player-Pianos, three models all playable by hand or by roll, are sold at the same prices to everybody, everywhere in the United States, freight and war tax paid. Price, branded in the back of each instrument at the factory, now includes six instruction rolls (Martin Method) and our authoritative book on home entertaining and music study with the Gulbransen. White House Model $750 Country Seat Model $660 Suburban Model $595 Gucsransen-Dickinson Co., 3232 W. Chicago Ave. , Chicago ———— —_—

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gt, ee me al a (Continued from Page 63) Indeed he indicated the extensive pile jumbled against the wire partition. “T see you have,” she agreed. “T’ve been engaging porters in two shifts to look out for it. Watch on, watch off.” “What for?” she asked sharply. “Well, you see there are a great many pieces. I often wonder why people need so much baggage.” A great silence had fallen over the sta- tion. There were no more passengers to clamor round the big door. The newly ar- rived crowd had settled on the benches to wait. The gate was tight shut on all chances of making the one-o’clock boat, which was to meet the East-bound train. At the head of the stairs Anna could see Kipps coming down to impart the news she already knew too well. ““You’ve made us miss our train!” cried Anna. “T thought I would, words came like a sigh. “Dune Leacy, I know you're not stupid enough to make a mistake like this. Just what are you trying to do?” “Oh, didn’t you know? certain childish sweetness. “T think I deserve an explanation.” “Oh, that’s easy enough,” he smiled. “I’m keeping you in San Francisco.” Color surged in Anna’s cheeks; she couldn't speak. “You've got to give me a chance to talk to you,” he declared, and he wore the look of a man who would not be denied. ” said Dunc, and his * he asked witha XX UST what happened in the hours di- rectly following the train-losing episode neither Kipps nor Susan Skelley could make out. Dune Leacy’s stocks went down several points in Kipps’ regard, but they could suffer such a depression and still re- main above par. The boy had the feeling which had once tortured him when the New York Giants fell in their final struggle for the pennant. They couldn’t be great all the time, and they would come up better than ever upon their next trial. Susan Skelley rode silently back to the Royalmere. Dunc’s behavior merely strengthened her theory that all Califor- nians were more or lessinsane. She felt, too, that “‘thim Chinees’”’ were lurking some- where behind the fiasco. Worse than that, Susan was far from approving her mistress’ behavior, for the Blys had scarcely finished their luncheon when Anna Bly, quite with- out explanation, went forth to spend the afternoon in Dune Leacy’s car! Anna, true to her appointment to talk it out with Dunc Leacy, was almost as much at sea as Kipps and Susan. She stepped into the he-man’s car feeling that she should have been very angry, which she was not. He had tricked her shamelessly, to be sure; but he carried it off with such a high hand that Anna, seated silently beside his busy wheel, had scarce passed ten city blocks when she began to think that he had done nothing more than exercise his just authority. It was a beautiful afternoon, mild and sweet. There was more languor in the air than is customary in a city where trade winds blow to stimulate more trade. As the ‘ar rolled merrily up the Sutter Street grade Anna could see San Francisco's happy polyglots—Japanese, Italians, Ger- mans, Greeks—gazing dreamily from the windows of their shops. Little girls of every nationality but American played hop-scotch on the sidewalks; their broth- ers risked their necks on scooters and bi- cycles coasting down the steep hills. The man and woman said very little during that westward drive. His clear gray eyes, glued on the road ahead, seemed lost in speculation. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking about to bring that softened look into his rugged face. When they had passed the cemetery wall at the top of the grade he turned. At Cali- fornia Street they turned again to the west. And now they were speeding between long rows of pretty houses, each with its garage door facing on the street to make it look like a diminutive fire station. She caught a glimpse of a white facade with prettily curtained windows, and in the glimpse she remembered the Korean woman who had summoned her in the fear that all Tazumi’s household might be slain. She wondered if Miss Kim would remain all her little life in that pretty jail. The road sank into a winding boulevard between handsome houses which clung like fish hawks’ nests on the cliffs above the sea. THE SATURDAY The Pacific! How graciously it feathered its tide against purple rocks upon which the sun, already filmed by low-lying fog, dis- play ed its broad benevolence. The shaggy hills of the Presidio lay be- fore them, rich and rugged like one of old | Leonardo’s splendid backgrounds. The steep promontory was a tumbled mass of wind-blown cypress, of brown shrubs and of silvery wild grass which rippled in imita- tion of the sea below. Hills that in spring had been glorious with blue iris and yellow lupine were now the color of softly bur- nished metal—old gold, old silver, old cop- per. Up the tortuous road they wound, up between wind-twisted trees and shrubs. At the very summit, just at the point where the road seems to hang like a wind- blown streamer above the racing waves, Dune Leacy stopped his car and said, “There’s a place up there where we can be out of the wind.” She followed submissively until he had found a hollow sweet with grasses a few yards above the road. From that quiet vantage the eye could look far out to sea along the sparkling procession, hurrying forever toward the sunset. Above their heads the ugly snout of a great gun pointed across the Pacific. Out of the mist a grace- ful steamer, black of hull and white of superstructure, was cleaving the waves toward the Golden Gate. On her smoke- stacks the insignia of a Japanese line could be discerned. Anna sat for a long time, wondering if Dune would ever speak, and if so what his first words woud be. “Anna,” he said at last, “‘do you really want to go away from all this?” “It isn’t what I want,”’ she answered without looking at him. ‘My life hasn't been guided by that.” “Do you think it was honest to go with- out telling me?”’ “Honest?” She looked at him now, and was uncertain as to the motive of his ques- tion as she added, ‘‘What you did at the station wasn’t exactly puritanical, I should say.” “Perhaps not.”” He looked out to sea and seemed to be thinking that point over. “I’m a business man, Anna, and when it’s a matter of collecting a bill I take the best practical means.” She turned in amazement to encounter that same odd look. “T suppose you’ ve forgotten, Anna, how much you owe me,’ ’ he said gruffly. “Far from it,’ " she replied. “I owe youa great many favors. I don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten them. If you want a brokerage for your share in saving my crop ——”’ “Holy snakes!” he bellowed. “I’ve for- gotten all about that! You owe me a lot more than that, Anna!” “If you’re a business man,” “why not be more specific?” “Do you remember a bet we once made?” Anna had not forgotten, but she must be reminded. “You remember,” he persisted, “that I bet you would agree with me about the Japanese? The terms, as I recall the m, were a carload of asparagus against “How do you know I agree with you about the Japanese?’’ she temporized. “Do you still think they’re a maligned and persecuted race?” She made no reply. “Do you still think they’re a blessing to the state of California?” he asked insist- ently. She remained silent, her eyes on the light buoy far below. “Because if you do,” he urged, “you'd better give me your address so that I can have the grass shipped to you.” “T don’t want asparagus—as much as that,” she whispered. In an instant the winner was collecting his bet. she said, Anna, as we must recall, had staked one kiss—no more—against Dunc Leacy’s vege- tables. But now the hour had struck, and Anna Bly clung to the man she had wanted with- out admitting her want. “T've loved you so!”’ he kept repeating. “Dune, my dear boy, why didn’t you | ever tell me this before?’ The question brought him back to earth long enough to give her a puzzled look as he asked, ‘‘Haven’t I?” “Dunc, dear, there were a hundred times when I could have cried on your shoulder and begged you to take me away!” “Ts that so?” a as He took a long time to it, and—to | be candid—he collected usuriously, for | > t EVENING POST ¢ Come on in! The Robe is Fine!”’ PROPER PROTECTION UNAPPROACHED FOR BEAUTY SANFORD MILLS, SANFORD, ME. HEN motor cars ceased to be luxuries and became utilities, motorists insisted upon | personal comfort. Hence the top, the wind-shield and the motor robe! 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A ‘ The Jack O'Leather store in by your town is now featuring the | Mo new fall and winter suits for ff q boys of 6 to 18 years i I | Send for Free Sample 4 ‘i Write us for a free sample of the isi IN| leather that lines the seat, knees, el- 7] bowsand poc kets of Jack y'I eather A Suits (see diagrams below). This sample will show you just what we f mean by “soft, pliable,real leather.” It's like a piece of chamois. Drop a post card to our address today. s-_= = + = =— CH 3 ) JJ. PREIS & CO: 636-638 BROADWAY New York City eee se THE SATURDAY He stared at her, quite apparently as- tounded at this piece of news. “T haven't any parlor tricks, Anna,” he said at last. “I’m a blundering jackass when it comes to saying the things a man ought to say to a lady. But I thought you understood. Somehow or other I was con- ceited enough to think we’d settled some- thing between us.” Her hand went over to his, because his look had become sad as his eyes followed the sparkling procession of waves. sab | ou ’ve never told me, Dunc,” she whis- pe red. “What's been the trouble?” “T’ve been pretty close to the rocks my- self, Anna.” “Dune!” He pulled his cap over his ears and clapped a palm down on his knee as he = y os fore an argument. I’m a business man, Anna—a business man and an engineer. I don’t suppose you know what I’ve been up against down there on the island. All the time I was | hanging round your farm the worry was driving me distracted.” “Poor Dunc!” she said, and stroked his capable hand, wondering what could have kept him aloof so long. “Every time I came over to Bly I was on the point of asking you. Then the hard | fact would show up and come between you and me. I realized how things stood. It would have been a crime to have asked you to marry a bankrupt.” “Why, Dune, you are celebrated all over the state as the most progressive farmer on the delta!” “That's it. I got proud and haughty about my reputation, and wanted to own the earth. I bought out nine hundred acres of pear orchard on the ot’ vr side of the island. I’ve mortgaged my crop three years now to hang on. “Tt would have been an easy deal toswing if it hadn’t been for labor—that’s what's been ome me blind. This year I saw myself going under and under. Then luck struck again.’ “You got your money back on crops?’’ she jes a “No, real estate. Do you remember the time I took a trip to Mr. Bowen's place in Oroville?” How well Anna remembered it! In her heart she was resolved never to let him know how jealous she had been, but she allowed herself to inquire: ‘‘ You mean the time you went to see the father of that girl with the black eyes? “The girl with the black eyes? Oh, yes,” he acknowledged, dismissing Miss Bowen forever. ‘Anyhow, I got rid of half my pear orchards at double their original price. Bowen and I closed last week. I’d hardly got his check i in my poc ket before I streaked it to see you.’ “You wouldn’t have sold to the Jap- anese, would you?” she questioned, look ing ge 4 into his eyes. “No, dear girl.” “And you still blame me for the way— the way I took a bribe from the Mikado, as you d say? *I was a fool to be cross with you about that. But when I met you that morning my hopes were higher than the moon. All the way down from Oroville I was work- ing on a plan to take your place over and make it pay. “We could have stuck it out together, Anna. But I see the fix you were in. How could you have understood the game | as I did?” Pas inc A EVENING POST He paused as though the question had suggested the one that followed. “Say, Anna, what was Tazumi’s share in that transaction?” “T don’t think he was directly responsible for getting me out of Bly,” said Anna. “I—I had a long talk with him the other day. He’s doing business under the name of K. Sato, you know.” “That’s the general opinion,”’ admitted Dunc. “But don’t hold that against him. Titled men of every race use obscure family names for business.” “T wanted to see Sato about the preacher at Bly. So I wrote a letter to K. Sato, and who should call but Baron Tazumi.” “One of these | unofficial official calls. What did he say? “Dune, I have detested Tazumi for a long time. I’ve never told you this—how could I? But Tazumi = me to marry him, and once—once—oh, Dunc! She hid her frightened eyes against his shoulder and heard him say, “ You almost gave in, didn’t you, Anna?” “God must have saved me from it,” she replied. ‘A Korean woman told me enough to open my eyes. I hoped never to see him again. But after I had talked with him the other day I didn’t know what to think. We diseussed his religion and mine. He didn’t try to be smooth or elusive or diplo- matic. I don’t believe anybody could have been more candid.” “What did he say?” repeated Dunc acy. “He said he was sorry about the trouble on my farm, and that he would have made things easier for me if I had told him. He said that all the Bly region had to be Japanese; that my farm was a keystone to an arch of land that had to be held solidly together. He said that the Japanese were moving in America, just as they were mov- ing in Manchuria and Siberia, to gain con- trol of the land that was to make them a great people upon earth. He said that he, as Tazumi, was merely an agent in the hands of a divine power. “Dune,” went on Anna, “you should have been there to feel as I did about Tazumi. It didn’t seem to be the talk of a small man clattering off a lot of propaganda he had learned by heart. He hasn't any of our standards, either moral or social. But according to his own standards he’s a very noble gentleman. It’s not money for him- self or power for himself that he wants. He’s giving his life for an ideal just as surely as the little Awagas are doing the same thing in their shabby church at Bly.” ““What did he say when you asked him to save the Awagas?”’ “He said he'd use all his influence to help them,” replied Anna. “And, Dunc, do you know, I think he’ll keep his word?” Leacy sat, his hands clasped across his knees, and indulged himself in reflection. “T often think,”” he concluded, ‘that Tazumi’s a pretty big man.” They were sitting close together in the —~ of a high hill, the deep Pacific swelling below like an enchanted arch between Orient and Occident. “Dune,” said Anna out of the silence, “T lived with Alec over eight years. We must have been very close together.” “Eight years is a long time,”’ he replied. “And yet—I hope it isn’t wrong for me to ask it. But why is it that I feel this way toward you, Dunc? I'm almost thirty. I've lived a lifetime already, and loved another man as much as I thought I could love anybody. Why is it I have the feeling ae AA eee, November 20,1920 of something new and wonderful in the world? How am I able to love you more than anybody—anybody [I have ever known?”’ Tears filled her eyes; her voice was very low. “‘Tt’s because we’re grown up, Anna,” her lover said. ‘‘You’ve got to know life to know love.” Gazing over the sparkling waters, Anna wondered if Zudie, soon to be happy on the other side of the world, knew what life is. The wind was dying with the afternoon, and a splendid peace had settled over the Presidio hills. A hot edge of the sun had already cut its way into the thin line of violet mist lying across the westward ocean. “Isn’t it strange?” said Anna dreamily. ‘When the sun is setting in America it is just rising in Japan.” “That’sa beautiful idea,” muttered Dunc Leacy. ‘‘There’s something terrible about it too.” XXxX1IT NNA did go East after all, but it was on her wedding trip. When they came back to take up their ate in the colonial house on the island the rainy season had set in; but the showers were intermittent, and California newspapers were already lamenting the shortage. During one of the bright weeks between rains Dunc and Anna drove along the con- crete road through the twisted streets of Bly. The change in the town was not obvious at first; it required careful inspec- tion to see that all the signs on the stores were now in Japanese. A fat Japanese, plainly the proprietor, stood blinking on the steps of the grocery which had so recently held the defiant sign of Henry Ward. Anna wondered just what riotous scenes had pre- ceded Mr. Ward’s capitulation. Dunc Leacy slowed down in front of the Japanese Methodist Church. A little woman in a prim tailor-made suit had just come out of the door and was walking mincingly round the corner. She did not recognize Anna, who gave a thankful sigh at the sight of Mrs. Awaga, still holding her own. “Want to go in?” asked the bridegroom of his bride. “No, dear. kept his word.” “If he’d been working for a white man I wonder if he’d have kept it as well,” suggested Dunc. “Hush, hush, Jap hater!”’ cautioned the bride, giving her he-man an affectionate slap on the elbow. As they were passing what had once been the Bly property Dune slowed up again. Plowing between rows of naked trees, they saw Mr. Shimba, Esq. He seemed to have grown a little stouter; and as he recognized his former half sharer he removed his battered straw hat and grinned from ear to ear. “How nice for you!”’ he cooed and hissed several times. ‘Everything deliciously O.K. inside this ranch.” “And how is Mrs. Shimba?” asked Anna, curious to know how that venture had turned out. “Ah, you look see how nice!” Shimba waved a horny hand toward a little dumpy figure, bending laboriously over a hoe. Beside the woman stood a perambulator from whose depths a feeble wail proclaimed that heaven had smiled very promptly upon the house of Shimba. But you see that Tazumi (THE END)

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“All the same it’s a comedown for a gentleman like you,”’ she added. The door opened. Neither of them per- ceived it. Pansy stood on the threshold. In her hand she carried a blue hat. “Nothing that brings me nearer to you can be a comedewn,” said Antony with a splendid and impassioned air. Pansy shut the door and went away. She carried with her the blue hat and an un- commonly vivid impression of Antony’s splendid and impassioned air Poppy paused, gazing at him with shin- ing eyes. For the while she had quite for- gotten Mr. Bracket and the lure of Bootle. Then she said: ‘I’ve never known anyone talk like you, Mr. Hambleton —only in novelettes and books—the heroes, you know. I didn’t suppose they did. But I suppose it is the way they talk in the highest circles.” “I’m hanged if it is!” cried Antony, falling toa sudden naturalness at the amaz- ing suggestion. “You wait till you hear my Uncle Egbert talk! He’s coming to tea this afternoon.” “Goodness! Is Lord Branksome your uncle?” cried Poppy in immense surprise as Antony made a gigantic leap in her estimation. “‘Fancy Mr. Bracket’s never telling me that! If only pa knew!” “Doesn’t he?” said Antony, surprised in his turn as it flashed on him that he had failed to use a great advantage in his matrimonial enterprise. “No, and he mustn't be told either. It would take all the romanticness out of it.” “Um! Do you think it’s quite fair to him not to tell him?”’ said Antony doubtfully. “Of course it is,’’ said Poppy with decision. “‘And after all you never know how pa will take any- thing.” “Then perhaps we'd better keep it as a pleasant surprise for him after we're married,” said Antony, readily accepting her guidance in the matter. “Married? How you do go on, Mr. Hambleton!” she cried. The door opened. Anderson came in quickly. Antony was be- tween his eyes and Poppy. He began: “Oh, here you are, sir. I'm afraid ¥ He stopped short as Antony, turning to him, disclosed Poppy. “It’s all right, Anderson. Miss Briggs knows who I am. Fire away,’ said Antony. “I’m afraid there’s no getting out of His Lordship’s seeing you, sir. Mr. Briggs has given orders that both you and Symons are to wait at tea,’’ said Anderson. “That’s a nuisance! Uncle Eg- bert is such a fool!” said Antony, frowning. ; ; “He'll never recognize you in those clothes,”’ said Poppy confi- dently. “He might. Fools always show a little intelligence when you don’t want them to. And if he does he'll blurt it out to a dead certainty. He goes about the world burning to inquire after his confounded five hundred,”’ said Antony. “If he does there'll be no hold- ing pa. At present you're just like a red rag to a bull to him. What a scene there'll be! And what Lady Branksome will think I can’t imagine!” cried Poppy in a lively consternation. “I’ve never known Aunt Clem- entine to think anything at all, so there’s no need to worry about 4 said Antony more cheer- TWerewmmned is forearmed,”’ said Anderson sententiously. ‘‘If we know that a sudden emergency is likely to be sprung on us, sir, we shall be ready to meet it. We can think out ways.” “The only way I can think of is to throttle your excited papa before his astonished guests,” said Antony to Poppy cheerfully. “No, you mustn’t lay a hand on pa,” said Poppy in the tone of one who recognizes the excel- lence of the method but cannot approve its use. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST THE WHISKERED FOOTMAN (Continued from Page 21) “Your word is law to me,” said Antony with a splendid air. A curious scuffling noise drew their eyes to the window. There entered Mr. Briggs, his right hand gripping Priscilla’s right arm, his left hand gripping the waistband of his trousers. Priscilla’s hat was crooked on her head, but her mien was unruffled. She appeared rather interested than excited. Mr. Briggs’ face rivaled the reddest cara- pace of any lobster ever boiled, and his eyes seemed to be sticking out of his head in the true lobstrous fashion. Antony made one step toward Mr. Briggs, and— Poppy or no Poppy—would then and there have laid a hand, and a violent hand, on him had not Anderson caught his arm and stayed him. “Steady, sir! Leave it to me,” sharply. “T’ve caught ’er!’’ said Mr. Briggs in a voice of breathless triumph He loosed Priscilla, who calmly shook out her skirt, straightened her hat, patted her hair, turned to him and observed quietly: “You red-faced old pig!” ‘“Who’s this little girl? What’s she been doing, pa?”’ said Poppy sharply. “* Trespassin’—in the’ome wood —walkin’ about as bold as brass. I caught sight of ’er from me bedroom winder, an’ I'd just taken orf me trousies, an’ I pulls them on agin—drippin’ as they was—an’ I run like an ’are, I did. I didn’t stop to fasten me braces—I ’adn’t time—an’ I caught ’er!” he said said Mr. Briggs, panting like a starting locomotive. “I Don't Believe You'd Stick at Nothing! And —and —it's Really Romantic. Priscilla rubbed her right arm gently, and said coldly: ‘‘And why shouldn't I walk about the home wood, you red-faced old pig? “The magistrates—will tell you—why,” panted Mr. Briggs. “T walked about it whenever I wanted to last time I stayed at Branksome.”’ “And this time you'll be prosecuted— for trespassin’,”” panted Mr. Briggs, and with unaffected simplicity he began to attach his suspenders to his trousers. Anderson stepped forward and _ said coldly: ‘I’m afraid, sir, if you'll excuse my saying so, that you've gone and put your foot in it badly. This young lady is the favorite niece of His Lordship and related to half the chief people in the county.” Mr. Briggs ceased completing his toilet, turned and gazed at him somewhat blankly. “What's that you say?” he said sharply. ** Miss Priscilla is a niece of His Lordship and related to half the chief people in the county,” said Anderson yet more distinctly. The fierce triumph faded from Mr. Briggs’ face, and he said in a tone of great uneasi- ness: “She is, is she?”’ He looked at Priscilla, and a sudden dread dawned in his eyes. They began to retire a little into their sockets. Priscilla was looking at Anderson. The sight of him in Mr. Briggs’ drawing-room was a great surprise; his statement that she was Lord Branksome’s favorite niece an even greater, though it was possible that she would assume that position if ever Lord Branksome made her acquaintance. “She is, sir. And nothing puts up the county’s back like anyone’s meddling with one of themselves. And Miss Priscilla is a general favorite,”’ said Anderson in incisive tones. It's Like the Old Times One Reads Of" Ow was I to know that? 'Ow was I to know who she was? The moment I catches ’old of ‘er I arsks ‘er for ’er name an’ ad- dress, an’ the young 'uss—the young lady, I mean—ups an’ tells me to go ‘ome and wash me face an’ put it in a paper bag,” said Mr. Briggs in an injured tone. “Yes, sir. She would, sir. She’s a very high-spirited young lady. The aristocracy are like that,”’ said Anderson. “‘An’ orl I done was to make ’er come along er me ter The Towers till she give me ‘er name an’ address,” said Mr. Briggs in a rising whine as his sense of injury grew keener. “You had no business to lay a finger on her, sir,’ said Anderson severely. “Why not? I'm a landed proprietor, ain’t I?’’ said Mr. Briggs with some heat. “Yes, sir. But these high-handed ways are all very well in Bootle—with factory girls and such people. But they won't.do with the aristocracy, sir. They really won't. You'll be years living down this business, sir—years. Even His Lordship’s influence, supposing he could be induced to exercise it—which I very much doubt would be of very little use in a case like this,” said Anderson in tones of the coldest severity “Uncle Egbert will be furious,”’ said Priscilla with a confidence for which her ignorance of her noble relative’s disposition gave her very slight grounds “If you will go and behave like a bull in a china shop, pa, it’s only what you’ve got to expect,” said Poppy with filial clear- sightedness. Mr. Briggs had fairly wilted. He looked like a lobster which has made a stay of several days on a third-rate fishmonger's marble slab. But he recovered enough of his manliness to observe to his daughter: “Oh, shut your head!" Then he looked helplessly round the room, and said bitterly: “‘ This is wot comes of not knowin" the ropes. ’Ere, Anderson.” He moved across the room to the door and stopped. Anderson came to him. “You gotter get me outer this,”’ he said in a low, confidential, im- ploring tone. “I can’t ‘ave the show bust up for a trifle like this arter orl the brass I've spent on it. Wot’s to be done?” Anderson's eyes shone, but he said solemnly: ‘It’s no trifle, sir—believe me.” Then assuming an expression of pro- found reflection, he added: ‘I think I might be able to persuade the young lady to let the matter drop—to say nothing to her peo- pie about it in fact —for something in the way of a—a trinket —a necklace, say—yes, a pearl neck- lace—not an expensive one, of course, sir—a hundred guineas should buy the very thing.” ‘“‘A hundred guineas!" cried Mr. Briggs so shrilly that it wa: fortunate that Priscilla was busily e ngaged inreceiv ‘ing amiab ily Pop- py 's apologies. ‘‘Not me! W! I've smacked an impere nt’ ussy’s face, an’ smacked it ’ard,in Bootle, for saying a damn sight less than what that young limb said to me about washin’ me face—an’ ten shillin’s was every penny it cost me!" Anderson drew himself up very stiffly, and said coldly: ‘Very good, sir. This isn’t Bootle. But, of course, it’s for you to say, sir.”” “T wishit was Bootle!” said Mr Briggs fiercely. Then the fight went out of him, and he added with a groan: “Oh, square ‘er, damn it! Square ’er!”’ “Very good, sir,” said Anderson without elation. Anderson went up to Priscilla with the grave and important air of a plenipotentiary to find her re- garding Antony, who was frown- ing at her, with her mouth a trifle open and lending but an inatten- tive ear to the excuses Poppy was making for her impetuous sire. “Tf you please, miss,”’ said An- derson, ‘‘ Mr. Briggs wishes me to express his regret that he acted so hastily in his ignorance of who ” you were. suddenly

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If he can't supply you, write us. your THE PHILIP CAREY COMPANY Dale Ave., Lockland Headquarters for the building and insulating products of aseHattr ASBESTOS acnesia A Roof for Every Building Cincinnati, Ohio Get this Free Booklet « ASBESTAIR PIPE,GOVERING for Hot Air Furnaces TEAR OFF AND MAIL It gives all the facts about N, the coal saving and the appli a cation of this wonderful insu lation, and other ways of ; saving coal. No obligation Street — a City State — EVENING POST “‘T should think he did act hastily!’’ said Priscilla, observing that though Ander- son's face was grave his eyes were dancing with a mischievous glee. “‘And he suggests that I should discuss the question of compensation with you over some tea and cakes in the morning room in a friendly way. The chef’s cakes are excel- lent, miss— better than any you can get in a London shop,” said Anderson; and Priscilla fancied that, had his respect for her permitted, he would have winked at her. Priscilla’s haughty air of a grievously offended young lady of good family van- ished wholly; and moving toward the door, she said in the friendliest tones: ‘All right, Anderson. Tea sounds very nice and so does compensation.’’ She paused on her way to the door and said in an un- commonly incisive tone to Mr. Briggs, who had stepped gloomily aside to let her pass: “All the same, cakes or no cakes, I'll bite you next time—-so there! I would have done it this time, only I never thought of it.’”’ “There won't be any next time,” said Mr. Briggs bitterly. “There better hadn’t be,’ darkly. Anderson opened the door, she went through it, and he followed her. In the hall she said to Anderson: “Tsay, don't you let Antony get at me. If he does I shall get into trouble about telling that red-faced old pig to go home and wash his face and put it in a paper bag.” “Very good, miss. Come in here,” said Anderson, and he ushered her into the red morning room. It was of a redness to wake in anyone who used it for half an hour in the morning a combative spirit of a fierceness to last the rest of the day. The pictures were of Oriental scenes, chosen for their redness, and Mr. Briggs had had the happy idea of getting masterpieces with plenty of blood in them to match the coloring of the room. In one there were two decapitated corpses; in another three; in a third Salome held the head of John the Baptist on a_ bloody charger; in a fourth Judith held a dripping blade just withdrawn from Holofernes’ bleeding breast. Every figure that could bleed freely was bleeding freely. It was indeed a room to begin the day in. “Golly, but these are pictures!”’ said Priscilla in a tone of hushed but profound admiration as she looked round the walls. “They're a trifle too bizarre for my taste, but I thought you'd like them, miss,”’ said Anderson in a pleased voice. “TI do,” said Priscilla, and it was plain that the words came from her heart. While she studied the masterpieces with a loving eye which missed none of their more thrilling details he rang the bell and ordered Symons, who answered it, to bring tea and the four kinds of cakes in which from their appearance he judged that the chef most excelled. Symons went, and Priscilla said: “TI could spend hours looking at these pic- tures.” “There's no need for you to hurry away, miss,”” said Anderson, and he plunged into the matter of the pearl necklace. ’ said Priscilla x10 \ K THEN the door closed behind Priscilla and Anderson, Poppy said in filial tones: “Well, I hope you're satisfied now, pa.” Mr. Briggs did not look satisfied, and he did not say that he was satisfied. He thrust his hands into his trousers pockets and with hunched shoulders walkéd toward | the window. “Perhaps it'll be a lesson to you not to go dragging young ladies about,’’ Poppy con- tinued. Mr. Briggs did not say that it would bea lesson to him; he did not say that it would not. He said “Ow, shut it!” and went through the window. PoppyturnedtoAntonyandsaid: “‘Some- times pa is neally too aggravating. He was always getting into trouble in Bootle, even | when he was in quite a small way of busi- ness, because he would act as if the whole place belonged to him; and now he’s acting just the same in the country. I always say it’s his Irish blood.” For all his approved hardihood, Antony quivered. But he said in soothing tones: “Probably he feels that it does belong to him. If I know anything of my Uncle Egbert he’s let The Towers to him at a thundering big rent." “Ah, well, pa can afford to pay it,” said poppy. calmly. She paused, and added: “If His Lordship does let out that it’s yo. November 20,1920 at tea it doesn’t look as if you'd be long at The Towers.” “It doesn't,” said Antony, “so I haven't any time to lose. They interrupted us just as I was going to tell you that I find it utterly impossible to go on living without ou. " “Oh, Mr. Hambleton, you’re joking!” cried Poppy. “T was never more serious in my life. It’s absolutely impossible. You don’t know what I’ve gone through during the last fortnight while I was waiting for my whiskers to grow. It has been a hell on earth,” said Antony in fervid accents. “Has it now?” said Poppy, flushing as her eyes began to shine with pleasure. “‘ Absolutely!” said Antony with passion- ate conviction. ‘And now that I’ve seen you again it will be ten times worse hopeless— intolerable. I realize that it can't goon. If it does I shail go mad.” “Oh, no, not mad!” cried Poppy. “T shall! You're one of those women those siren women—who madden men absolutely,” cried Antony, and he made two quick steps toward her, caught her in his arms and kissed her. She struggled to escape, but with no great vigor. She was not of an upbringing or class which attaches great importance to kisses. He kissed her again. “We must get out of this. You must run away with me,” he said, and kissed her again. “How you do carry one off one’s feet!" cried Poppy. “That's all right. I’m going to carry you away with me this very night!” “B-b-but that’s eloping, and nobody elopes nowadays,” objected Poppy. “Don't they? There are more elope- ments nowadays than ever there were. There are more people to elope— and we're two of them,” cried Antony, and he kissed her. “Fancy me eloping!”’ said Poppy. “‘Say you'll come,” said Antony tenderly. The big front door bell of The Towers clanged loudly. “That's Lord and Lady Branksome. I must go and tidy myself. Loose me!” cried Poppy, struggling in earnest to get free. “Say you'll come!” cried Antony, hold- ing her tighter. “Oh, Mr. Hambleton, I don’t know what to say!”’ she murmured. “Say ‘Yes, Tony,’ he said softly, kiss- ing her again. “Yes, Tony,” she said faintly. He kissed her and said: “Right, dear angel! Meet mie on the south veranda whether I'm recognized or not—at half past nine, and we'll catch the ten o'clock train to town. It’s quite all right. I've got a special license. We'll rouse up a parson and get married as soon as we get there. He kissed her again, added “At half past nine on the south veranda,” and loosed her. She ran through the window, crying over her shoulder “Oh, you do carry one off one’s feet!’’ and vanished. Antony heaved a deep sigh and mur- mured: ‘And that’s that, as Shakspere so often remarked. She is a dear, though.” Then he straightened his tie and moved majestically toward the door. It opened in his face to admit Lord and Lady Brank- some. “I'll tell Mr. Briggs that you're here, M’Lord,” said Anderson, who had ushered them into the room, and he made room for Antony to pass him. Antony slipped behind Lord Branksome’s back unnoticed, and Anderson shut the door. Lord and Lady Branksome stood stock-still, staring round the room, a little dazzled by its blasting blue. Then Lord Branksome said in a tone in which admiration and wonder were neatly blended: “ Hang it all, that low ruffian has brightened up this dingy old room! It always used to give me the blues.” “Yes, Egbert,” said Lady Branksome, sitting down on the nearest couch and assuming a very stiff, upright attitude. She was a tall, square woman, with pale- blue eyes, pale-fair hair and pale-pink lips. She wore an expression of the most amiable insipidity, and was dressed in an elaborate frock and hat of a pale blue which gave that insipidity its full value. “No half measures about it,” Lord Branksome continued in a tone of warm approval. ‘New carpet, new wall paper, new curtains, the furniture recovered and regilded—and new pictures.” (Continued on Page 72)

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(Continued from Page 70) “Yes, Egbert,” said Lady Branksome. Lord Branksome walked round the room looking at the pictures. He stopped dead before the picture of the sheep. “I say, look at these sheep! That’s what I call a picture!” he said with the air of a connoisseur and in a tone of genuine enthu- siasm “Yes, Egbert,” said Lady Branksome. “I never saw such intelligent sheep!” he cried with swelling enthusiasm. “I'm hanged if you couldn't teach them tricks to sit up and beg and that kind of thing!” “Yes, Egbert,” said Lady Branksome. Of a sudden Lord Branksome’s face dark- ened. He snatched at his watch, tore it from his pocket, glanced at the dial and cried: “Here! I say! Where is the low ruffian? Why isn’t he here? What's he keepin’ me waitin’ for? When I agreed to take him up on condition he took The Towers I didn’t bargain for this kind of thing. Impudence, I call it—impudence!” “Yes, Egbert,” said Lady Branksome. “What is he doin’?” cried Lord Brank- some on a shriller note of exasperation. “I don’t know, Egbert,” said Lady Branksome. “Of course you don't! You never do!” cried Lord Branksome with a bitterness born of forty years’ experience. “Yes, Egbert,” said Lady Branksome. “T say no!” roared Lord Branksome with the most violent ferocity. “No, Egbert,” said Lady Branksome The door opened, and Mr. Briggs en- tered, beaming, in a tweed suit on which, had there not been too many black and grayish yellow squares, friends accompany- ing him on a railway journey could have played chess with fair-sized chessmen. “Ah, here you are, are you?” said Lord Branksome in a tone of cold menace, scowl- ing horribly at him “Here I am,” said Mr. Briggs cheerily, beaming unabashed, as he seized the heated peer’s unresponsive hand and wrung it warmly. “’Ow do you do? An’ this is your good lady. Very pleased to make Your Ladyship's acquaintance."”’ And he wrung Lady Branksome’s hand with no less warmth “You didn't seem to be in any hurry to make ij,”” said Lord Branksome in a tone of icy rebuke, and feeling cold about the corners of his mouth he wiped away a little foam from them. “Better late than never,” said Mr. Briggs cheerily. “'Toggin’ myself out, you know Must be O. K. to entertain the aristocracy. This is a proud day for yours trooly, an’ I don't mind admittin’ it—entertainin’ the ‘ighest in the county in me own drorin’- room,”’ “Oh, come! It's not exactly yours. You're only rentin’ it from me, don’t you know,” said Lord Branksome captiously He was determined to take exception to anything his tenant might say. Mr. Briggs’ eyes sparkled; the smile vanished from his face; he became the hard, red man of business; fixed the cooling peer with boring eyes, and said with iron firmness: “For seven, fourteen or twenty- one years; an’ whichever I fixes on, it's mine for that period, in a manner of speakin’.”’ “Oh, in a manner of speakin’!"’ said Lord Branksome more than a little contemptu- ously. Then, appeased, he waved his hand at the picture of the sheep and said in an imperious tone: “I like that picture.” Mr. Briggs’ face relaxed into a gratified smile, and he said in a tone of high delight: “It's my favorite picture, too, Branksome. We're birds of a feather, we are.” Lord Branksome’s mouth shut with a click; then he said with icy dignity: =" think it's extremely improbable.’ “We are, though—in a manner of speakin’,”’ said Mr. Briggs with hearty conviction. “Oh, in a manner of speakin’!"’ said Lord Branksome, again contemptuously. The door opened and Poppy entered, followed by Mr. Albert Bracket in a morn ing coat, gray trousers and patent-leather boots of an engaging yellow. He had pro- cured them since he had fled from An- tony'’s guidance. Poppy's color was high; and for all that she was supported by the presence of Mr. Bracket, she looked flus- tered. ‘This is my daughter Poppy. This is Lord Branksome an’ ‘is good lady,” said Mr. Briggs. Poppy bobbed at Lord Branksome the. awkward little curtsy in use in the British primary schools, shook hands with him, THE SATURDAY and said “How do you do, Your Lord- ship?"’ remembered that she ought to have shaken hands with Lady Branksome first, said “Sorry, I was forgetting,” shook hands with her, said “How do you do, Your Ladyship?” breathed a sigh of relief at having got it over, and stood panting slightly, and tried unsuccessfully to hide one of her pretty little feet behind the other. “Albert Bracket, a young friend of ourn from Bootle,” said Mr. Briggs. Mr. Albert Bracket came forward, ele- gant, assured, shook hands with Lady Branksome, and said “How do you do? Very pleased to meet you, Lady Brank- some,” shook hands with Lord Branksome, and said ‘How do you do? Very pleased to meet you, Lord Branksome.” His voice sounded more than ever as if it had been recently greased with careful thoroughness. “Albert Bracket’s one of our risin’ young men, ‘e is,”” said Mr. Briggs solemnly. “One of these days ’e’ll be mayor of Bootle, ‘e will. You mark my words.” Lord Branksome looked Mr. Bracket up and down. Then his eyes fell to his yellow boots and stayed there, glued. The entry of Symons bearing a large silver tray laden with tea things, followed by Antony bearing a large silver tray laden with cakes and bread and butter, followed by Anderson, caused a shifting of the group which removed the yellow boots behind the couch on which Lady Branksome was sit- ting and relieved Lord Branksome’s strain- ing eyes. He found his tongue again, and with his eyes fixed lovingly on Poppy’s pretty face he murmured over his shoulder to Lady Branksome, “An uncommonly attractive young person, Clementine.” “Yes, Egbert,” said Lady Branksome. The group rearranged itself. Mr. Briggs sat down on the couch beside Lady Brank- some and engaged her in conversation, to which he contributed everything but the monosyllables, about The Towers and the neighborhood. Mr. Bracket stood behind the couch recovering from the strain of his elegant entry, and envied his distinguished fellow townsman his ease and his loquacity. Lord Branksome drew a chair beside that on which Poppy had sunk and set about making himself agreeable while he gazed languishingly into her eyes. Anderson poured out the tea. Symons and Antony made ready to hand round the teacups, the cream and the sugar. Then Lord Branksome’s voice rose in the words: “ We shall be delighted to have such a charming neighbor. It will brighten up the whole neighborhood, and it wants brightening up badly. The standard of beauty round Branksome is low—deplor- ably low.” “What's that?” said Mr. Briggs sharply, and he sprang to his feet, once more the hard, red man of business. ‘Low is it? Then I've bin done in the eye. Your agents told me that The Towers stood in some er the most beautiful scenery in England.” “So they do,” said Lord Branksome. “I wasn't talking about the scenery. I was talkin’ about the young ladies.” “Oh, the gals,”’ said Mr. Briggs in a tone of relief, and he dropped back on to the couch. ‘‘Norty! Norty! But I’ve got an eye for a pretty gal meself, Branksome. So it is birds of a feather after all.” “It's nothing of the kind,” said Lord Branksome icily, and he turned again to P oppy. “Well, orl I can say is, it looks uncom- monly like it, don’t it, Albert?” said Mr. Briggs equably. ‘There are different ways of looking at the ladies, Mr. Briggs,” said Mr. Bracket coldly, even austerely. “Pa takes a lot of looking after, Your Lordship,”” said Poppy in a confidential tone to Lord Branksome. The conversation had fallen into lines she knew. “Does he indeed?” said Lord Brank- some in a tone wholly devoid of interest. “Yes, ma had a lot of trouble with him,’ said Poppy. “Did she indeed?” said Lord Branksome in the same tone. ‘Look here, miss, don’t you tell tales out of school!” said Mr. Briggs sharply. Antony and Symons came forward with cups of tea, and cream and sugar on smaller silver trays. Symons held his tray down in front of Lady Branksome, Antony his in front of Poppy. Lord Branksome looked at him care- lessly. Then his face filled with amaze- ment, and he said “God bless my soul!” EVENING POST “Hush, Your Lordship!” said Poppy, who was on the lookout for the recognition. “Eh? What?” said Lord Branksome, re- covering himself on the instant like the man of the world he was, and he added: “*Oh, it’s like that, is it? I see—I see!” He chuckled softly, and took a cup of tea from the tray. Fortune had set three tea- cups on his tray, two on that of Symons. Antony carried the tray round the couch to Mr. Bracket. Mr. Bracket poured some cream into the teacup, said in the lofty tone he used to menials, “‘No sugar, thanks,’’ looked at Antony, knew him, opened his mouth and let his cup and saucer fall with a clatter. “Nah, clumsy! That’s a nice thing for the noo carpit!"’ said Mr. Briggs with ready irritation. “Never mind, Mr. Bracket! Accidents will happen!” cried Poppy, quick to come to his defense. “Sorry,” said Mr. Bracket, and his mind whirled. His eyes were wide open, and he looked like a boiling owl. Antony picked up the cup and saucer and moved majestically to the table to get the cup refilled. Mr. Bracket stared at his back, then moved up and down behind the couch to get views of his face from different angles. Only Poppy observed his jerky movements. Mr. Briggs seized on the break in their talk caused by the accident to make the conversation general. “‘ Arter all, Branksome, wot’s the odds as long as you're ’appy,”’ he said in the accents of a philosopher. “‘Why shouldn't we ‘ave an eye for a pretty gal? Boys will be boys, and me an’ you don’t feel arf as old as we look, do we?” “Suppose you speak for yourself, Mr. Briggs,”’ said Lord Branksome tartly. “Tam,” said Mr. Briggs, unruffled. “‘ All the same I'll lay fairish odds as you've give your good lady lots o’ trouble. ’Asn’t ’e Your Ladyship?”’ “Yes, Mr. Briggs,” some. Mr. Briggs slapped his thigh and laughed high and shrill “I knew it!” he cried. “I knew it as soon as ever I clapped eyes on you, Branksome! I said to myself: ‘A fair knock-out with the gals, ’e’s bin! A fair knock-out!’”’ Lord Branksome ground his teeth, his eyes gleamed and his nostrils dilated. He could have felled Mr. Briggs like an ox. But this was a drawing-room. He con- tented himself with saying in a rather breathless, sarcastic voice: “I suppose we're to consider this kind of conversation as the-—-er—the—er—proper kind of thing for a young lady to listen to.” “Oh, L don’t mind about Poppy,” said Mr. Briggs carelessly. ‘‘There’s no non- sense about Poppy. She takes arter me. She’s got ‘er ’ead screwed on straight, ’as Poppy.” “T need to have with you, pa,” said Poppy with cold conviction. Antony had brought Mr. Bracket an- other cup of tea while he was still in the first whirl of confusion. He had received it with a trembling hand, but in silence. Twice he had received cake with the same uncomplaining decorum. But when Antony handed cake to him for the third time his tender wits had recovered their wonted balance, and he was able to regard him with the daunting eyes of the basilisk. “So it’s you, is it?” he hissed in a low whisper. ‘It’s me all right. And if you give me away I'll wring your neck!” replied Antony. Mr. Bracket shrank away from him, and nearly dropped his third piece of cake. Antony returned to the tea table. Mr. Briggs drank two cups of tea with said Lady Brank- no little emphasis, talking to Lady Brank- | some about what he had done and what he was going to do to The Towers. He spoke of it as of an opponent. He finished his second cup with an unusually long-drawn sound of suction and waved the empty cup at Lord Branksome. “Poor stuff, Branksome—poor stuff for men,” he said sadly. Then he added in an encouraging tone: ‘But never you mind! There's a little tiddly waiting for us round the corner.” He turned and resumed his monologue with Lady Branksome. Lord Branksome gazed at him with hos- tile eyes, turned and said to Poppy: “‘ What on earth is a little tiddly?”’ “T expect it’s a bottle of the bubbly. Pa is very partial to the bubbly, Your ‘Lord- ship,” said Poppy simply. November 20,1920 Lord Branksome’s eyes dilated, and he waggled on his chair. But, like the man of the world he was, he recovered himself. Nevertheless his voice was not quite steady when he said to Poppy in a low tone: “So my young nephew has followed you down here, has he?” “Hush!” murmured Poppy with a fear- ful glance at her happy sire. “He’sa spirited young fellow, Antony— very spirited,” said Lord Branksome. “Oh, he is!”’ said Poppy with conviction. “He takes after me,” said Lord Brank- some. “Does he, Your Lordship?” said Poppy. “He does. He’s a splendid young fel- low,” said Lord Branksome with enthusi- asm. “He’ s the very man to make a girl happy.’ “Ts he, Your Lordship?” said Poppy. “He is,”’ said Lord Branksome in a tone of absolute certainty. “IfI’da daughter of my own of the right age there isn’t a man in England I'd sooner see her married to.’ He gazed at Antony’s broad back with fond eyes. “It’s a pity that pa doesn’t see with you, Your Lordship,” said Poppy gloomily. “He will—he will,” said Lord Brank- some confidently. Poppy gazed at her happy sire with doubtful eyes. “He doesn’t often see with other peo- ple unless they’re letting him have his own way,” she said. Lord Branksome did not hear her. His mind appeared to have strayed to other matters. Of a sudden he broke into a high- pitched, cackling laugh. “Wot’s the joke, Branksome?”’ said Mr. Briggs in a tolerant, rather patronizing tone. “You were quite right—hanged if you weren't, Mr. Briggs. Boys will be boys.” He cackled again and added, “And girls will be girls.” “IT thought you'd see it,’ in an indulgent tone. “T do,” said Lord Branksome, and he cackled again. “It’s too bad of Your Lordship, pulling poor pa’s leg like that,’” murmured Poppy, smiling at him. Mr. Briggs rose and said: *‘’Er Ladyship’s comin’ along er me to see them golden pheasants. It seems as they was pertickler favorites of ers. Lady Branksome rose. “I’m not a poultry fancier myself. But I know what poultry fanciers is,” said Mr. Briggs, and he moved with her toward the window. Lord Branksome rose, and said: “And I want to see the silver carp in the Japanese lily pond. They were particular favorites of mine. If you'll be my guide, Poppy you don’t mind me calling you Poppy? I’m old enough to be your father, you know.” ‘You're old enough to be her grandfather you mean, Branksome,” said Mr. Briggs over his shoulder from the window, and he laughed heartily at the happy quip. Lord Branksome’s eyes gleamed fiercely, and he gazed at the checked back of his re- tiring host with a murderous glare. He was not proud of his white hairs. As he mov ved after Poppy to the window he observed in a dreadful voice: “ Your father is a—er—er—a humorist.” “Pa will have his joke,” said Poppy in a tone of resignation, and she went through the window. Lord Branksome’s face cleared a little, and as he followed her through the window he said: ‘ Well, I had mine. I certainly had mine, didn’t I?” His high-pitched cackle rose on the sunny air. * said Mr. Briggs xIV YMONS picked up the big tray and car- ried it through the door. Anderson went out after him. Antony picked up the other tray, set it down, turned and faced Mr. Bracket, who had come from behind the couch and was standing in front of it, hesitating whether to follow Poppy and Lord Branksome into the garden, or stay to deal with Antony. When Antony turned he fixed him with a baleful glare, and said: “So it is you!” “Yes, it’s still me,”’ said Antony calmly. “Tf you think I feel like being funny!” said Mr. Bracket thickly. “Why not? You look funny. You always do,” said Antony coldly. Mr. Bracket gnashed his teeth. “Now my gallant young friend, I’ve got a bone to pick with you—a good, large, meaty bone,” said Antony in a suddenly (Continued on Page 75)

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 73

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 A Merrier Xmas for Your Child Merry indeed will the children be who receive packages of Faultless Toy Balloons and Faultless Rubber Toys on Christmas Morning. These rubber playthings give “heaps of fun” to all the young folks and will cause many a shout of glee. FAULTLESS TOY BALLOONS in Sanitary Sealed Packages are untouched by anyone's hands from factory to child. Each package contains a well varied assortment. Many equipped with Faultless Patented Closing Valve, so child may inflate and deflate balloon at will. All colors are brilliant, fast, non-poisonous. Thoroughly safe-to-play-with balloons. Two size packages —10c and 25c-—each the biggest balloon value its price will buy anywhere. FAULTLESS RUBBER TOYS, also prominent among Toyland’s treasures, are designed by artists who know what children like. Well made from soft but strong rubber moulded-in-one-piece. Faultless Rubber Toys stand unlimited strenuous handling by their loving little owners. We illustrate two of these toys‘ Sweetie,"’ the most widely known rubber doll on the market, and two views of “Pat-Biddy" (double toy with different figure on each side). Faultless Inlaid Rubber Balls are finest quality and have decorations moulded right in the ball. These toys in gift assortments, CLEAN PACKED IN BOXES, are priced 25c, 50c, and $1.00 per box. Dollar Box contains one 25c Balloon Package, one Inlaid Rubber Ball, one “Sweetie” Doll and one “Pat-Biddy’’ Duo Toy. 50c and 25¢ boxes each hold like big values for these prices. Sold by leading stores everywhere. We aleo manufacture No. 40 “ WEAREVER”™ Water Bottles, No. 24 “ WEAREVER ” Fountain Sy «, the “ FAULTLESS NURSER” and a complete line of fine quality rubber goods for toilet, nurtery and sick room use — sold by representative druggists and merchants everywhere. THE FAULTLESS RUBBER COMPANY (Ashland Rubber Works) Ashland, Ohio, U.S. A. ‘DEALER * FAULTLESS TOY BALLOONS in Sanitary Sealed Packages and FAULTLESS TOYS in Boxes are fast sellers and secure the best trade. Write for full details regarding these quality rubber playthings. %

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4} } { / iv } i i it of 7, (Continued from Page 72) harsh, rasping voice. ‘When you discov- ered last time we met that Miss Briggs was coming to tea with me you went straight off and told her father.” “T only did my duty. I’m a friend of the family,” said Mr. Bracket with a virtu- ous air. “It was a sneaking trick,” said Antony. “All’s fair in love and war,” said Mr. Bracket with more defiance in his tone and bearing than in his spirit. “You've nothing to do with love. You had your chance at Bootle years ago, and you chucked it away.” “It was coming back. I know it was— and then you came interfering,”’ protested Mr. Bracket. “And I’m going on interfering,’ said Antony. “Tt isn’t her you want. said Mr. Bracket bitterly. “You’re wrong. I want both,” said Antony. “And I want her!” cried Mr. Bracket. “T don’t believe it, and if I did you shouldn't have her,”’ said Antony with cold determination. “Perhaps if you hadn’t played that sneaking trick on me after all I'd done for your social advancement I might have done the magnanimous stunt and cleared out of your way. But as it is, I'm adamant—especially about the fist. And what I want to make clear to you is that if you try to queer my pitch again I'll push your face with that fist—hard and often. Do you get me, Steve?” Antony extended his arm and held his closed hand about three inches from Mr. Bracket’s nose in order to make his mean- ing quite clear. Mr. Bracket backed away from it has- tily and said bitterly, “I get you all right. Cowardly, I call it—taking advantage of your superior strength.” “T couldn’t take advantage of my in- ferior strength, could 1?” said Antony reasonably enough. ‘Besides, this is a free country. Anyhow you asked for it when you played that measly trick on me. I'm too busy at the moment to settle with you for that now. When I’ve time to go into it I shall fine you five thousand pounds.” Mr. Bracket’s slate-colored eyes opened wide, and he looked as if he could not believe his ears. He snorted faintly, and said: “And I should like to know how you're go- ing to do that. You're not a judge, you know, though you do give yourself the airs of one. “Anyone with a fist as heavy as mine can impose a fine in a free country like this,’ said Antony. ‘“‘Really you'll impose it on yourself. At least you'll have the choice of imposing it on yourself or getting a thrashing that will lay you up for a month.” ““B-b-but that’s b-b-blackmail! And b-b-blackmail’s felony!” stammered Mr. Bracket in a tone of horrified surprise. “Don’t be so conventional. You're not in Bootle,” said Antony in a tone of cold contempt. “‘You know quite well that felony isn’t felony till it’s found out. It’s the very first principle of business.” “There’s depths in you I’ve never sus- pected, Hambleton,” said Mr. Bracket in a tone of hushed horror. “You'll learn something new about me every time you play a measly trick on me, and every time you'll like the new thing less. But this isn’t blackmail—it’s retribu- tion—and I’m not asking you to pay the fine. I’d just as soon wale you—sooner in fact,” said Antony grimly. “‘But, as I keep telling you, I haven’t time to deal with you at the moment. I’m busy bringing a much more important piece of business to a satis- factory end.” Mr. Bracket jumped. An expression of bitter anguish contorted his face. He said in a tone of anguish: “I know what that means. I saw it coming. I knew you'd never rest till you’d brought it off. I don’t know what to do. I really don’t. I can’t stand it!” “Then try sitting it,’’ sympathetically. Mr. Bracket went to the window with bowed head. On its threshold he turned and said with a weakly defiant air: “You may mock, but I shall find a way. “Don’t forget my adamantine fist,’ Antony coldly. Mr. Bracket turned and took his gloomy way across the sunny terrace. Antony looked after him thoughtfully; then he picked up the tray and was carry- ing it to the door when a voice behind him said “Pst!” It’s her money,” said Antony un- ’ said THE SATURDAY He turned to see Lord Branksome stand- ing in the window. “That five hundred of mine is looking up, eh?” he said in an eager voice, a bright light of eagerness in his eyes. “Uncle Egbert, it is,” said Antony gravely. “Good!” said Lord Branksome from his heart, and he turned and went with a jaunty air, swinging his ebony stick. Antony carried the tray down into the basement. He could not find Anderson, but he found that his fellow workers were having tea in the servants’ hall. He joined them, made a hearty tea and won golden opinions for his mneleliel and intelligence, especially from the two pretty housemaids to whom he addressed most of his con- versation. After tea Anderson told him that he would have no work till dinner time, when he would wait on the Briggs family. Antony devoted this hour of leisure to a careful search for Pansy, but did not find her: She had no wish that he should find her. After finding him in earnest and impassioned converse with Poppy in the blue drawing-room she had made up her mind that she never wanted to see him again. She had had about three weeks to consider the idea of his marrying Poppy, and the longer she had considered it the less she had liked it—if Poppy had only been ugly, or even deformed, she could have borne it. After tea she had gone to her room and cried about it. This had enabled heed to make up her mind that she hated im. Antony traversed most of The Towers and a good deal of the gardens in his search, and it was nearly dinner time—his dinner time—before he abandoned it. One of the pretty housemaids found him in the Dutch garden. Anderson had sent her to find him and bring him to his pantry. Antony came to him in a gloomy frame of mind. He found Anderson cheerful. He had obtained a check for a hundred guineas, made out to Mr. Briggs’ jewelers, and—a far more diffi- cult business—had arranged that Antony should dine in the housekeeper’s room. Mrs. Burchell, the housekeeper, was one of the old school, a stern observer of prece- dents. She refused flatly to have a footman dine in her room. She was shaken by Ander- son's assurance that Antony was a young man of good family under a temporary financial cloud, but did not yield till he had made the brilliant suggestion that he should dine in a tw lounge coat instead of crimson velvet. The French chef, a dark, lantern-jawed, saturnine man of the world, raised no objection when he learned that Antony had served with distinction in France. Then Anderson sought Pansy, with greater success than Antony had sought her, and obtained her cold assent to the arrangement. He was not a little sur- prised to recognize in Miss Briggs’ maid the young lady to whom Antony had been so deeply devoted. He was also disquieted. He could not see that she would in any way make for the success of Antony’s enterprise. The dinner in the housekeeper’s room was a pleasant meal. Good food always brought out the best in Antony; and he charmed Mrs. Burchell and Monsieur Legros by his urbanity, his manifest wish to please. He was able to talk to Monsieur Legros, who had been a captain in an in- fantry regiment, of the part of the line in which he had chiefly fought. He gathered that the saturnine air of his French brother in arms was the result, or rather one of the results, of a long-standing dyspepsia. It had imprinted on his face most of the crimes of the Borgias, though he was of an amiable and refined disposition. He talked little to Pansy, though his eyes continually sought hers. She did not encourage him to talk to her; she did not manifest any wish to please a* all. She was much too busy hating him to be able to do anything else at the moment, even to make a good dinner. She did not give him an opportunity of getting a word alone with her after it. She went straight and hastily to help Poppy dress for dinner. That dinner was not a pleasant meal, though Mr. Briggs was in very good spirits and voluble on the subject of the Brank- somes’ call and the social advantages to be derived from it. Poppy was absent-minded and uncommonly gloomy for a young lady about to perform one of the most romantic exploits possible to her sex. She rarely met Antony’s eye. Mr. Bracket was morose. Usually abstemious, he drank with quiet perseverance. At the end of dinner Mr. Briggs told Anderson to serve coffee and liqueurs on the EVENING POST south veranda. Antony wished that he would not have these tiresome flashes of inspiration. He could not see that Mr. Briggs on the south veranda w- ld be of any use to him. Leaving the’: master, whose appearance—thanks to the sherry, sauterne and champagne he had drunk with his dinner—was already of the most lobstrous, to drink a glass or two of port, Anderson and Antony went to procure the | coffee and liqueurs. They found them ready and carried | them out to the south veranda, an agree- able place set with comfortable, cushioned, wickerwork chairs and small, firm tables, each affording standing room for two glasses. Antony set his*tray on a larger table at the back of the veranda, surveyed the moonlit terrace, breathed deeply in the — evening air, heavy with the fragrance of flowers, and said in a hopeful voice: “Bar accidents, in three-quarters of an hour I shall be a whiskerless man and on my way to London.” He appeared to be quite free from the dismal apprehension which usually blights the man who will be married inside of three hours. “I’m very pleased to hear it, sir,” said | Anderson in a tone of considerable aston- ishment. “I didn’t expect things to move so quickly as that, sir. ‘This is my lugger,” said Antony, stamp- ing on the floor with a brave air. “Your what, sir?” said Anderson in the tone of one not quite believing his ears, and he looked round the veranda. “My lugger—a seagoing craft in great request when the dear old nineteenth cen- tury was young. Once aboard it, the girl is mine,” “Meaning Miss Anderson. “Meaning Miss Briggs,” said Antony, and he folded his arms and assumed the desperado pose. “That's good hearing. I wish you luck, sir,”’ said Anderson, beaming on him. Antony turned sharply, let his arms fall to his side, and cried: “That’s torn it! You should never wish a man luck at cards, hunting or love! Didn't you know that?” “No, sir. Sorry, sir,” said Anderson con- tritely. “Granted,” said Antony kindly. Briggs, sir?’’ said xv HE murmur of voices prevented further talk. Then in the true baronial fashion | Mr. Briggs came through the door first, followed by Poppy and Mr. Albert Bracket. The glass or two of port had put the finish- ing touches to Mr. Briggs’ color scheme. His little eyes stuck out farther than ever from his lobstrous face, which was bright with a redness which clashed fiercely with the purple silk handkerchief he had spread neatly across the lower part of his shirt front. He took the center of the veranda and stood with his legs wide apart, his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, a large cigar drooping from the corner of his mouth, and surveyed the moonlit garden said Antony in a seafaring voice. | with the complacent air of a proprietor and | hazy eyes. he saw two moonlit gardens or three, but he was very happy. Poppy dropped heavily into a chair, frowning unhappily. yet more heavily into a chair, facing about eight feet away. Poppy gazed at him with troubled eyes. His astonishing glum- ness appeared to have a charm for her, which it could have for no unbiased ob- server. She had less than ever the air of a young lady in a pleasant quiver of excited anticipation at the prospect of performing in little more than half an hour the most romantic exploit possible to her sex. As a matter of fact she had begun to regret her promise to Antony the moment she had passed out of the circle of his magnetism. The fascination of Mr. Bracket and Bootle had resumed its sway over her spirit. She looked at him with a mournful longing, and would not meet Antony’s eye when he held down the tray for her to help herself to coffee When he carried the tray to Mr. Bracket that worthy young Bootle blood caught his eye readily enough and glared into it, rather feebly, loathing and hate. Antony with a callous coldness winked at him. Mr. Briggs took his cup of coffee with fumbling fingers, still gazing diligently be- fore him at his moonlit gardens. Possibly he was trying to separate them. He tossed off the cup of coffee in one ringing gulp and set the cup back in its saucer on the tray. (Continued on Page 77) It is impossible to say whether | Mr. Bracket oaipes 75 Poor Mr. Jones! Here he is, pushing his way through the driving sleet when he should riding to work in comfort in his own car. Yes, he owns a car, but it is an open one. And he has to lay it up dur- ing the ‘‘mean"’ weather—just when he needs it most! He gets only about 50 or 60 per cent use out of his car simply because it lacks a closed top. Don’t be a Mr. Jones Have an Anchor Top for your open car. Then you will get your money's worth out of your car. You will prac- tically have two cars in one. For bad weather driving you will have a good- looking, comfortable closed model, and for summer a “light airy” touring car—for your Anchor Top can easily be lifted off any time and your regular extension top put on, Each model Anchor Top is designed for a specificcar. For instance, the model for a Buick is designed especially to harmonize with the lines of the Buick car. In other words the An chor Top actually converts your open car into a iuak die of true closed car elegance and beauty. The top fastens to the regular body irons perfectly. No rattle, no squeak. Each top has dome light, rich whip-cord lining and snug-fitting doors and windows. Don't con fuse the Anchor with the ordinary top. The Anchor Top is the work of real coach builders Sedan ag i Glass -Enclosed 20 models for these care Reo Maxwell Buick Ford Willys-Knight Overland * Essex Dodge Chevrolet Write for Free Book nail Let us send you our free illustrated f/f booklet describing Anchor Tops in ¢ The Will cleo cond you price list end # Anchor name of Anchor Top dealer 4 Top & formation today.” Jost mal f ony oe the coupon or a postal. No 4 357 South obligation. Clip the cou- ¢@ Street, Cincin- pon now nati, Ohio F i Without inc a obligation | woul The Anchor Top like to see illustrated & Body Co ’ ———— and price of 4 a. Anchor Top for 357 South St. 4 wyobe Cincinnati, Ohio / of Car Fine Coach / Model Builders for ¢ 30 Years 4 Name ! Address

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Showing how an exact impression of the master” sheet is left on Ditto’ copying surface — Ditto Has Work to Do in Nearly Every Ditto service—quick, accurate du li- cation from one writing—is valuable in nearly every department of every business. Ditto lightens the order and invoice work; speeds it; saves errors. It gets your bills out on time. It reduces the number of billers necessary. Ditto is widely used in factory opera- tions. It can control all elements such as work orders, requisitions, material shortage lists, stock reports, inspection records, engineering change notices, assembly schedules and the like. Ditto handles bulletins, charts, graphs and reports in the sales and advertising departments, in five colors, if you wish. Trade Merk Registered CS Potent Offre bcdieié O00 after which it is a sim; matter to produce the neede ——— TC Se eee Ditto supplies accounting forms— time and cost records, financial reports —everything involving duplication used in the accounting department and at the same time it will provide the tags, cards and labels used by the shipping department. Ditto service, versatile and economi- cal, is today accepted among progressive business organizations as a necessary element in efficiency. Ditto is never sold unless it can save. Its uses will be charted for you before you buy—its savings proved. Some of the things Ditto is doing for others are told in the Ditto Book. Write for it _ today or telephone the Iitto office. Duplicator Manufacturing Company, Chicago Offices in All Principal Cities Ditto THE QUICKEST WAY TO DUPLICATE November 20,1920 epartment ——— a ee

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(Continued from Page 75) Anderson’s approach with the tray of liqueurs seemed to rouse him, and a shadow fell on his face. He had reached that stage. He turned on his guest and said in an aggrieved voice: “I can’t make out wot’s come over you, Albert. "Ere you are—in one of the ’istoric 'omes of England, eatin’ the best food, drinkin’ the best bubbly, smokin’ the best smokes—that cigar in your mouth cost me every penny of three an’ a bender ’olesale—an’ you seem to ’ave an "ump as big as an ‘aystack.” “T know I have,” said Mr. Bracket in funereal accents, taking from the tray the curacao and brandy which Anderson had poured out for him. “Then chuck it, me lad! Chuck it!” said Mr. Briggs in a tone of deep disgust. “Tt’s all very well to say chuck it,” said Mr. Bracket, once more gloomily. “Why don’t you cheer ’im up?” said Mr. Briggs with great. severity, turning to Poppy. “You're ’is ’ostess, aren’t you? Wot’s the matter with ’im?” “It’s not so easy to cheer up a serious- minded gentleman like Mr. Bracket. He takes things to heart so,” said Poppy in a half-miserable, half-complacent voice. Mr. Bracket’s gloom harrowed her tender heart, but she was not insensible to the tribute. Mr. Briggs took a glass of liqueur brandy from the tray, raised it, and said in a tone of dignified politeness, ‘I looks towards you, Albert.” “Cheerio!”” said Mr. Bracket yet more gloomily. Antony, in obedience to a nod from An- derson, went through the door into the house. Anderson followed him. Mr. Briggs looked from Mr. Bracket to Poppy and from Poppy to Mr. Bracket. Then Poppy heaved a deep sigh and Mr. Bracket uttered a faint groan. Mr. Briggs emptied his liqueur glass and threw it on the floor. “Well, I’m blessed!” he cried in a bit- terly aggrieved voice. “I s’pose you think I want to spend my evening with a pack o’ moanin’ mummies. I don’t!’”’ He paused to glare from one to the other, and added in a tone of savage menace, “I’m goin’ to talk to the glowworms, I am.” He took three steps toward the left side of the veranda, paused, and added in the most bitterly sar- castic tone, “They’re more sociable like.” He went to the top of the steps, turned, and said in a purely conversational voice, “I’ve written to Dickson, the bird fancier in Cor- poration Street, you know, to arsk ‘im wot’s the proper food for them glowworms. I’m goin’ to grow ’em.”’ He paused for the murmur of sympathetic congratulations. It did not come. He said with savage bit- terness, “You can jolly well moan at one another!” and went down the steps. As he started across the terrace to join brighter boon companions they heard him say, “‘ Poor li'l’ glowworms!”’ There were tears in his voice. Poppy looked miserably at Mr. Bracket; Mr. Bracket looked miserably at Poppy. “‘What’s the good of his telling me to be cheerful? I can’t do it,” said Mr. Bracket in heartbroken tones. “I’m feeling none too cheerful myself,”’ said Poppy. She seemed to be on the verge of tears. ““We do seem to have made a mess of things,”’ said Mr. Bracket in a plaintive, moaning voice. “It wasn’t my fault,” protested Poppy. “How was I to know what your feelings were if you didn’t tell me?” “T was meaning to tell you for months— the best part of a year,”’ said Mr. Bracket. “It’s my way. I do like to take my time over things. It worked very well in busi- ness too. It’s only in other things that it doesn’t seem to work.” “It doesn’t indeed,” mournful agreement. “All the same there must be a way out of the mess,” said Mr. Bracket in firmer accents. “You'll have to find it in less than half an hour then,” said Poppy. “You're going to run away with Hamble- ton!” cried Mr. Bracket in a sudden, rather breathless apprehension. “I may be—and again I may not,” said Poppy. The secret was not wholly her own. “But it isn’t safe!’’ cried Mr. Bracket. “How do you know he’d behave honorably if once he got you away from here?”’ “TI know that all right. He’s not that sort. He really is a gentleman,”’ said Poppy confidently. said Poppy in THE SATURDAY “A gentleman blackmailer!” cried Mr. Bracket bitterly. “You can’t trust him.” “Oh, yes, I can!” said Poppy even more confidently. “TI tell you, you can’t. It isn’t you he’s really after—it’s your money,” said Mr. Bracket with no less certainty. He felt that it was no ny about the bush; frankness—absolute frankness— was the only course. He must open her eyes. “T dare say he wants my money,” said Poppy, unmoved. “But he wants me as well. I’m quite sure of that, or I should never have listened to him. You can always tell—always.” She paused and added in a reproachful tone, “Anyhow, whatever he wants he goes straight for it without any shilly-shallying. And that’s what I like him for—among other things. Any girl would.” “Look here,” said Mr. Bracket in a tone of astonishing decision. “I’m slow, I know. But I want you ten times as much as he does. You give him up.’ Poppy shook her head. “Do!” Mr. Bracket pleaded. “I tell you what—if you'll chuck him and marry me I'll take you straight to live in Bootle. We'll settle down in that big house the Mor- — jused to live in. I bought it six months a y sat bolt upright; she flushed; her eyes shone; she clas; her hands; she cried, “Oh, Albert, that would do us a fair treat!” It was a cry from the heart. “If there’s one place in England you can really get your money’s worth in, it’s Bootle. We should be really happy there,”’ said Mr. Bracket with hardly less enthusiasm. Poppy sank back in her chair; the flush faded from her .cheek, the light from her eyes; limp and disconsolate, she said, “But what’s the good of talking? A prom- ise is a promise.” a don’t care! Promise or no promise, you’re not going away with him! I’m go- ing to stop it!” cried Mr. Bracket with immense decision. Love on the top of a good deal of cham- pagne had made another man of him. He spoke with spirit; his eyes flashed fire—not much fire, but ‘still fire. To Poppy he seemed heroic. But she said in no hopeful tone, “‘ You'll have to be quick.” “I’m going to be quick—quicker than ever I was in my life before. And I think I’ve found a way,” said Mr. Bracket, and his eyes flashed a little more fire as he strode to the electric bell beside the door, put his thumb on it and kept it on it. “I’m going to have a talk with him at once.” “You're not going to talk to him before me!” cried Poppy, and she sprang out of her chair in a panic. “No fear! That wouldn’t be any use. He’d have to be romantic,” said Mr. Bracket astutely. ‘I'll talk to him in the smoke room—just he and I—as man to man.’ ““Now mind, you’ve got to persuade him to give me up of his own free will. I won't have you going to pa about it. If you did I should feel more bound than ever,” said Poppy firmly. “T’ve tried going to your papa, and it doesn’t work,” said Mr. Bracket rather glumly, for her words had recalled to his mind Antony’s painfully felonious intent. “‘T’ll persuade him all right.” Anderson entered. The prolonged ring- ing of the bell did not seem to have quick- ened his steps. “Where’s your master?” said Mr. Bracket. “T don’t know, sir. I left him with you, sir,” said Anderson, suave but uninter- ested. “T don’t mean Mr. Briggs. I mean Mr. Hambleton,” said Mr. Bracket. “He did say that he was going up to his bedroom,” said Anderson. “Then it’s too late! He’s gone to shave off his whiskers! I knew he’d never travel to London with me in those whiskers!” cried Poppy i in the accents of despair. “No, it isn’t. Fetch him down and send him to me in the smoke room, Anderson. Hurry up!”’ said Mr. Bracket. “Yes, sir, in the smoking room, sir,” said Anderson, and he went through the door- | way with decorous deliberation. “It won’t take long,” said Mr. Bracket | confidently. He shuffled his feet. Then he went | briskly out after Anderson. (TO BE CONCLUDED) EVENING POST 77 How Hot Is the Furnace? The Pyrometer Tells — Once the fallible human eye estimated furnace heats. Today Hoskins pyrometers everywhere are elimi- nating guess work—are controlling heating processes by the accurate measurement of temperatures. Their accuracy is based on the remarkable heat-resistant prop- erties of Chromel, from which Hoskins thermo-couples and protection tubes are made. Chromel couples can be used at temperatures as high as 2300° F. They retain their accuracy throughout their exceptionally long life. Chromel is used as the thermo-couple with the majority of all the pyrometers used in America. Where Hoskins pyrometers are in- stalled, any mechanic can make his own thermo- couples with Chromel because they do not require calibration. The nickel-chromium alloy Chromel, which is used as the heating element in practically every domestic electrically heated device and in Hoskins electric fur- naces, is useful in many forms where a lasting, rugged, heat-resistant metal is needed. Production managers and metallurgists interested in heat measurement and heat problems will receive helpful information by ad- dressing the Research Department, Hoskins Manufac- turing Company, Detroit. GINATED BY HOSKINS DETROIT

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not been through, but round, and advised the latter course as safer. As often happens, we found screwing up our courage and making an actual start the hardest part. A gradual climb of eight hundred feet from Shoshone Lake took only two hours, and we were on the Continental Divide. Another three hours and we were followin a small but beautifu stream down toward the head of Bechler River Cafion. At first we stopped to pane. peo each waterfall and cas- cade, but LaBree was on the lookout for a camp site with grass enough for sixteen horses. So we waved a reluctant au revoir to some beauty spots un- photographed. he girls and I, dneahll awa practi- cal thoughts of phesib le danger or disaster, gave ourselves up to the joy of being in the trackless wilderness just as God made it, with no blaze, no sound, no sign of life save the occasional evi- dence of shy animals THE SATURDAY EVENING POST CORNERING CASCADES (Continued from Page 11) —_—-—_—_ that glided away from such an unheard-of in- trusion, We descended toward what we could occasionally see was a basin, into which this stream and probably others flowed. As we neared the evident center our road became rockier, and the roar of other waters made us spur our horses to see what we intuitively felt to be something unusual. A Country of Thrills And so it proved. Three rushing streams came together at one point with such a roar that we could scarcely tell each other that this must be the head of Bechler River, LaBree was delighted to find good pasture in the basin, so we pitched our tents at the very point of the union of the streams, and named the place Three River Junction named not because we thought it pretty or romantic but because neither we nor others would call it anything else. Such a happy lot we were! At five P. M. we had crossed the Rubicon without losing a horse or injuring a person; only a rope or two were broken as the pack horses crowded between trees or bit and kicked each other on the way. Unnamed Cascade — Upper Falis River We spent three great days here exploring stream and cafion. We felt almost like first- nighters, viewing Nature’s wonderful show. Our camera bag included three falls, several cascades, one hot spring and some rock formations, all within half a mile of our camp. The government topographical map, made from a survey in 1883, had noted none of these features. When we broke camp and started down the cafion of the Bechler River, man and Nature were in tune. Just leaving this de- lightful vestibule of fairyland and entering a long corridor, we were as truly led by a sprite as any children in wonderland. We had just passed a group of hot pools when someone pointed high up on the cafion’s side, saying “‘Oh, look—cascade!”’ There a small stream came dancing down a wide stone way almost too broad for its volume. Many tall spruce trees prevented a good photograph. The perpendicular of this cascade, unhonored and unsung by name, is two hundred and sixty feet. Near it a fifty-foot sentinel rock stands guard. The river falls about one thousand feet through its eight-mile cafion to the open country below. We picked our way without difficulty. Spruce timber in this region does not present impossible barriers. Many splendid trees towered above us more than one hundred feet, with bodies four and five feet through. The Bechler River had a gorgeous cas- cade program which unfolded as we went, giving us several real thrillers. Twice the river divided and came together again be- fore our eyes, inclosing a charming island, the whole set at a slant—I would like to say of forty-five degrees—sufficient to make everything a roaring cascade. Several small groups of deer stood curious as we passed not far from them. The topographical map shows two falls, Iris and Colonnade, near where the river leaves the cafion. I don’t know who named them, perhaps the map maker. They have undoubtedly been seen by a few people. Both are notable spectacles, Near Iris we found on a tree, carved ah haps thirty years ago, the name of W. Winegar. We had heard rumors of a _ by that name, and this increased our in- terest in the find immensely. Later I heard November 20,1920 that Winegar, now an old man, is still alive somewhere in the West. It was no easy job to photograph Colonnade Falls. Mr. Dinsmore and I had to ride our horses across the stream to a point where we could include both sec- tions entirely in our pic- ture. The side of the cliff made this almost impossible and interfer- ing branches seemed to make it hopeless. To cap the climax, we had left our hand ax on the other side. However, we got the picture by using our hunting knives and fixing our tripod with about the shortest leg uphill and the longest downhill ever used, one man holding while the other pulled the event. We reached the mouth of the cafion in ample time to make camp for the night, finding solid meadow land, running water and timber instead of the great swamp shown on the topographical map and so much talked about by the Idaho ir- rigationists. Two days later we moved farther into the “‘swamp,’’ settling down for several days’ stay in the heart of it. What splendid meadows they are, and pMiBecne by what fine pine forests! Ten to twenty thousand acres of the best camping country in the world, and every stream is full of native trout! Not hav- ing found any fish above the falls in the Bechler Cafion, we took to them in the val- ley mightily. An Unknown Wonder We roamed all over the valley and climbed the sides of the sheltering plateaus, finding several streams coming over the edge, all scenic in the extreme. One splendid falls with a straight drop of one hundred and thirty feet is yet without a name. Withina hundred yards of it another stream cascades over a perpendicular height of three hun- dred feet. Ouzel Falls was noted on the topograph- ical map. It is plainly visible from the cen- ter of this valley as it comes over the brink of the plateau near the mouth of the cafion. It is not strictly a falls, as it slides (Concluded on Page 83) Meadows in the Bechler River Vatley

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—2 we eR NERS Re THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Washing, for beauty HIS is to tell you how to make washing, your Why Palmolive is so mild face the most important of all beauty treatments. How to wash so thoroughly that every tiny pore and minute gland is cleansed from poisonous accumula- tions of dirt and oil. Yet to wash so gently that your complexion is soothed as you cleanse it. Cleopatra knew their value—they served her both as cleanser and cosmetic. They adorned the marble baths of the Greeks and Romans. Today their scien- tific combination in Palmolive Soap achieves the final toilet luxury. Because it contains the mildest, most ,entle of natural cleansers—the Palm and Olive oils discovered 3,000 years ago in ancient Epypt. The secret is using the right soap—soap with a mild, lotion-like lather. And in using, such soap scientific- ally, as we explain here. Wash with Palmolive and your two hands ’ b ; Why i sat cost more Palmolive Soap makes a wonderfully profuse, creamy y it doesn't cost more lather, which you should work up and apply with Users of Palmolive may wonder why it isn’t very ex- your two hands. Use these same hands for rinsin},. pensive. Why this extra fine facial soap can be bought Use tepid water, but finish with ice cold. at the price of other soaps. Apply as much Palmolive Cold Cream as the skin The answer is—Palmolive is so popular that it forces will absorb, wiping, off the surplus. Then look in the production in enormous quantity. The Palmolive mirror and admire the becoming, freshness and rosy factories work day and night, ingredients are pur- bloom of your complexion. chased in almost unbelievable volume. Just before going to bed - the ideal time for this The result is a moderate price which puts Palmolive thorough cleansing. If your skin is unusually dry, within the reach of everybody, everywhere. we advise usin’, Palmolive Cold Cream before you begin washing, This supplies the lacking, natural oil Palmolive is sold by leadin?, dealers and supplied in and keeps your skin smooth and supple. puest-room size by America’s most popular hotels. THE PALMOLIVE COMPANY, MILWAUKEE, U. 5S. A. THE PALMOLIVE COMPANY OF CANADA, LIMITED, Toronto, Ontario “\ Copyright, 1920—The lalmolive Company (1148 Y

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SO THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 If any one thing more than another can add to the joys of Christmas, it is music— and the Victrola can bring into your home, any music you may wish to hear. The Victrola is the one instrument to which the greatest artists have entrusted their art—an unanswerable acknowledgment of its artistic achievements. Moreover, the Victrola is the only instrument specially made to play the records which these artists have made. Christmas Day and any other day th all the years to come, the best or the n of the world’s music may be yours to e By all means get a Victrola this mas, but be sure it is a Victrola and some other instrument made in imitz $25 to $1500. Victor dealers everywh Victor Talking Machine Co., Camden, N. J.

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 Look for the Red Pyramid on the Radiator Learn the Vital Results of Service Scientific Cushioning Many factors of major importance enter into motor truck construc- tion. Design, material, workmanship—each plays a part. But, undoubtedly, the most important of all is adequate protection from the Five Fundamental Shocks and Strains which are a con- stant and deadly menace to motor truck efficiency. * * Ten years ago Service engineers took the first definite steps toward complete shock insulation. The outcome is Serv- ice SCIENTIFIC CUSHIONING. Today thousands of Service Trucks carrying loads of every kind over the roughest highways of the world, prove * * * more tonnage per day, more miles per dollar of expense, and more miles of service. There is no doubt about these facts. Records of Service Trucks prove them without question. Nothing of such ss that Service SCIENTIFIC CUSH- vital importance to truck users has Shocks IONING solves the problem. ever been developed. Service Motor Trucks—protected SCIENTIFIC CUSHIONING = ond insured by SCIENTIFIC Number 4 gives to Service Motor Trucks ‘the = CUsSHIONING—are made in 7 models ) red most ideal working conditions possible. ith 0 diff binati Strains Shocks and strains are absorbed, WX? Over 80 different combinations and Shocks Braking Strains and Shocks Se avi’ softened, neutralized before they reach the vital parts. What is the result? Simply this. Protection of the “ works” of the truck means a big increase in efficiency, in reliability and economy. It means more hours on the road, of power, speed and capacity. There is no hauling problem large or small that our engineers cannot solve. You can always tell a Service Motor Truck by the Red Pyramid on the radiator and on the ends of the seat. SERVICE MOTOR TRUCK COMPANY, Wabash, Indiana, U. S. A. MOTOR TRUCKS With the Red Pyramid on the Radiator ail) —_ Se

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(Concluded from Page 78) down rocks in a little less than a perpen- dicular course. The height is three hundred and eighty feet, according to my barometer. Mr. Little, the ranger, was with us dur- ing part of our three weeks’ stay in this southwest corner. He says there are sev- eral fine falls farther up these streams. We next moved our camp some miles east to the headwaters of the Falls River, not in the “swamp” area, but near it. Here, including Cascade Creek, we found six falls and cascades within a radius of a quarter of a mile. Any one of them if located in New Jersey or Illinois would be advertised as a world wonder. Finally we journeyed west again to where the Bechler joins the Falls River and both go south into Idaho. Among other attrac- tions, we photographed two falls, the largest in volume and height in the park, save only the two great falls of the Yel- lowstone. One is unnamed; the other is called Cave Falls, with a drop of sixty feet or more and a width of two hundred and fifty feet. The cave is one of those extravagan* gifts of the Creator, thrown in on top of more than we could ask for. We photographed the falls from the rear of this cave, which is about fifty feet deep and of equal width. It is really formed by the eddy from the falls in high water washing away a soft forma- tion from under hard rock. There is so much water in the stream that it was all our horses coulddo to make the breast- high ford below, Room for Tourists Before summing up the things worth seeing and keeping in this corner of the park, which the Idaho people just below are seemingly so ignorant of or perhaps care so little about, I wish to quote a paragraph from the favorable report on their project made to Congress by Rep- resentative Addison Smith. Smith is vice chairman of the Public Lands Com- mittee. He said: “There is absolutely nothing in the way of unusual scenery or other interesting features in this part of the park, but the entire area contains only the ordinary Western mountain landscape scenes, such as may be seen along the lines of travel for many miles by any tourist approaching the park from any direction. I am compelled to say this does not square with what I found and saw there. I personally visited and photo- graphed between thirty-five and forty falls, cascades, hot springs and rock for- mations. We found no swamps beyond an occasional small one such as is found in other parts of the park; but in their place were beautiful meadows aggregat- ing several thousand acres, surrounded by an equal acreage of valuable timber and traversed by clear, cold streams full of trout. Innumerable fresh signs in- dicated the large number of elk, deer, moose, bear and beaver in this bottom. The meadows are superb for grazing or hay land and can be invaluable in supp lying feed for elk and deer in the winter. They are so far from being swampy that we were able to gallop our horses anywhere at will—and one does not gallop in a swamp. This Bechler River Valley is the widest, most level and most beautiful in the Yellowstone National Park. Its vicinity has more falls and cascades than all the rest of the park put to- gether. It will produce more hay than all the rest of the park. Ten thousand individual automobile parties can camp in and round it with elbow room for all. I submit, as proof, our photographs and the disinterested and enthusiastic corrob- oration of all our party, and of Ranger Raymond Little and Chief Ranger James McBride, who almost alone have known this country heretofore. The tourist automobiles are now so thick on the park road that the superintendent has to establish one-way-street traffic regu- lations, and the designated camping grounds are so inadequate that often the auto camp- ers find themselves huddled uncomfortably. They fail to get that sense of bigness and freedom for which they come. An inexpensive dirt road, not more than twenty miles in length, will connect this valley, through the Bechler River Cafion, to the main road system of the park near Old Faithful Geyser. No new road could be made elsewhere that would serve a quarter of the people that would be served THE SATURDAY by thisone. No other road to new camping grounds could be built so cheaply, because a ten to fifteen mile an hour road can be opened here merely by removing the trees and using them for corduroy culverts over occasional soft places. The autos can ford all the streams mentioned, except the Falls River, near the southern boundary. To get down to brass tacks, such a road can be built for a few thousand dollars, enabling an auto to go in and out again in half a day if necessary. The reason I advocate setting aside this country for auto campers is because of its unusual adaptability for that purpose, its close proximity to the present park roads and the necessity for more auto camping places. Personally, I am a trailer, and not a tripper, as the average tourist is called, EVENING POST thrown open to the people to whom it was deeded by Congress without reserve in 1872. Nearly all intelligent citizens of our broad land favor irrigation when the cost is within reason and when no injustice may result. It was in this spirit that our party followed Falls River down a few miles south of the park to see what ather places for water storage, if any, might be found. We ran right into three great side valleys before we had followed the Falls River five miles. We spent three days going over them—Winegar’s Hole, Dog Creek and Boone Creek. I will not record here tedious details; I had already found the proposed dam site up in the park. With my barom- eter it was not hard to get a very close esti- mate of levels and elevations on these three tributaries of Falls River. ti _ Mountain Ash Creek I believe in preserving areas of primeval wilderness just as they were five centuries ago, with only enough trails to enable naturalists and near naturalists like myself to study and record the flora, fauna and other features impossible to be found else- where, I will fight for such areas, just as I will urge other provision for the great mass of Americans to make pilgrimages to moun- tain and stream. A fair balance between tourist and trailer can be maintained. It is true that this region has never been used by either trailer or tourist, but it is absurd to say that such a reserve recrea- tional ground is of no value on this account and should now be flooded for commercial purposes. If my father leaves ten thousand dollars, to be paid to me, principal and interest, five years hence, will Congressman Smith say it is of no value because unused? This southwest corner, hitherto held in trust by circumstances, is now due to be The simple conclusion is inevitable by any disinterested observer that a very large water storage is possible in these three valleys just outside the park. A _ two- hundred-foot dam ‘can be thrown across the Falls River Cafion below the mouth of Boone Creek that will store probably twice as much water as is proposed in the park. A cheaper dam across the very narrow neck of Falls River below the mouth of Dog Creek will store, at less expense than that below Boone Creek, all the water the farmers: can probably use. All the storage areas in these sem ions are without settlers or improve- ments, but another paragraph of Mr. Smith’s report says: “A careful examina- tion of the watershed has been made by the officials of the state of Idaho and the engi- neers, Which examination discloses the fact that this reservoir site in the Yellowstone National Park on Falls River is the only site which can be utilized in providing an 83 additional water supply for the land in question.’ Again, A. P. Davis, director of the United States Reclamation Service, say$ in a letter to the Public Lands Committee of the House that he visited this region and that “the land that would be submerged by the lake thus formed is mostly of a swampy nature and is unsightly and without any scenic value or economic value that is com- parable to its value as a reservoir.”” And when he testifies before the House Public Lands Committee, we find the following in the Congressional Record: Mr. Extston: Then this territory is on the outermost edge of the park? Mr. Davis: Yes, sir; and remote from the scenic features of the park. There are no scenic features down here at all. It is simply a swamp. It is fairly good pasture, but it is very high and cold. Mr. Davis, so far as I can learn, was the only official of the Government to go into that region—some time before the bill was introduced in the Senate— and to make a statement based on his per- sonal observations. Our party rode com- pletely across it in different directions several times. We followed the Bechler from its source into the Falls River and five miles out of the park. We rode round and round this area, Last winter the Yellowstone Park had an unheard-of snowfall, from eight feet in some places to round four to six feet in this southwest corner. As there were no roads into this region, there was no vossibility for further investigation from Novembes, 1919, to May, 1920. Neither Secretary Lane, Mr. Mather, director of national parks, nor Mr, Albright, super- intendent of the Yellowstone Park, had been in this region. Lane favored the project. Mr. Mather, confronted by Davis’ testimony and Lane's attitude, could only ask for time to investigate. Idaho's Great Asset The bill was introduced in the Senate February 10, 1920, and passed. It was introduced in the House February eleventh and favorably reported March twenty-fifth. Meantime the opposition of the people started. Warnings appeared in print. Congress was about to adjourn, Something had to be done quick ly. Smith applied to the Rules Committee April 20, 1920, for a special rule by which this bill could reach a vote in the House after only one hour’s debate, half an hour for each side. Think of it! Sixty minutes and then a vote in the whirl and fury of the closing hours of the session! But the Rules Committee held a hearing and there were enough questions raised by people present to convince the com- mittee that such haste was not wise, so the bill is still on the calendar. (H R 12466.) After Congressman Smith had written his report he admitted that he had not visited the region it described. He, along with a lot of honest, intelligent Idaho people must have based their con- clusions on other people’s stories about the country. Idaho has a great and growing interest, a money interest, in the whole Yellowstone Park, and the part of Idaho adjacent to the southwest corner has a special money interest in this “swamp”’ part, with all its beauty and possibilities as a campers’ delight. If they would put just a little of their energy into getting an entrance into the park through this corner, they would increase the park automobile travel tribu- tary to them immensely. The total number of visitors into the park this year was about twenty thousand greater than last. The great resort regions of the White Mountains, the Adirondacks and Southern California, not toname dozens of other resorts, have a tourist business that makes these irrigation schemes look like thirty cents. The money advantages are well distributed, and patronage is on a steady increase. What will we think of Idaho, with such a capital endowment al ready made for her, deliberately destroying a part of the endowment, with a prospect of her action wrecking the whole beneficent Yellowstone Park? Idaho adjacent to the park, and so much interested in it, certainly does not know-— cannot know—that there is water storage outside the park and that her proposed invasion is as inexcusable as it is shortsighted,

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O FOOD particle can hide from the Pro-phy-lac-tic Tooth Brush. tufted bristles really reach in between and around the teeth. The curved handle makes cleaning the back teeth an easy matter. In Always child’s, youth’s, and adult’s sizes. soid in the Yellow Box. The Pro-phy-lac-tic Pen-e-tra-tor Hair Brush, with its thin, straight-up-and-down knots of choice, extra-stiff bristles, vigorously massages every part of the scalp, brushes thoroughly every strand of hair, smooths out all snarls and tan gles, and endows the hair with a soft, silken sheen. The bristles are fas- tened through a non-tarnishable alu minum face into a durable, special compositiot bed. Always sold in the Fellow Box. Send for free é k which fully describes the several attractive styles and finishes Florence Mfg. Company Florence, Mass. Also Makers of the Pro-phy-lac-tic Hand Brush Canedian Address 247 St. Paul Street West Montreal : THE SATURDAY For better teeth —for better hair EVENING POST November 20,1920 FILTHY LUCRE By Robert Quillen HEN I was a boy there came to the town in which I lived an evangelist who served the Lord on a piece- work basis. He demanded no guaranteed wage or proportion of the collections, but agreed to harvest the sinners and gather them into the church at the fixed rate of four dollars each. He was a skilled ex- horter, adroit, persuasive and courageous, and within a week he and his sermons held the town’s interest to the exclusion of all other affairs. Many of the unregenerate accepted his invitation to confess their sins before the world, and the meeting was a gratifying success. I do not now recall any of the texts he used or the morals he got from them, but one of his favorite expressions put me to the inconvenience of consulting the dictionary and thus fastening itself in my mind. In each of his sermons, whether coining lurid phrases to picture hell’s torment or describ- ing the fearful state of persons yet unweaned from their wickedness, he found frequent occasion to speak of filthy lucre and man’s love of it. I had acquaintancewith the adjective and, being persuaded by its unsavory reputa- tion, judged the noun to be some monstrous evil known only to adult persons. The dic- tionary brought me understanding, but it brought disappointment as well. It seemed unreasonable to me that one who hated and feared money and the pleasures and com- forts bought with money as this man hated and feared them should risk his immortal soul by accepting a fee for the salvation of sinners. I realized that this ungenerous thought doubtless was proof of my unre- generate nature and forbore mentioning it to my elders; but secretly I pondered over it and enlarged upon it until I came at last to open doubt of the evangelist’s sincerity. In later years I discovered that this hy- pocrisy concerning the possession of money is almost universal and is in fact more delu- sion than hypocrisy. The normal man con- trives a philosophy to take the sting from failure. Like the fox in AZsop’s fable, he leaps again and again to seize a bunch of rapes and, being at last persuaded of the utility of his efforts, consoles himself with the reflection that the grapes are sour. This reflection is unworthy and has no basis in fact. It is but an effort to defend himself against the accusation of impotence, but, once accepted as a sop to vanity and used to dull the edge of his cupidity, it becomes in time an accepted conviction, a faith and ac . The desire for money, which is but a desire for the comfort, luxury, ease and beauty money will buy, is shared by all normal people. Some persons while striving to Fs money become enamored of getting and learn to love money for its own sake; but these are a little mad. A great deal of money is a dangerous pos- session and is more frequently a burden than a blessing. It may demand the whole of one’s.energy and thought and time, thus depriving him of his rightful share in the joy of living; or.it may be set to work in quiet fashion so that it will make no call upon him and leave him to an idle, useless and bored existence. The man who is slave to his money and the man who is by money condemned to idieness are alike deserving of sympathy, though neither may be con- scious of his need of it. The average man labors in the hope of attaining prosperity. His need of money is real and his desire for it is wholesome. He does not dream of acquiring millions, for ambition is gauged by a reasonable hope, and the average man has no reasonable hope of acquiring millions. He hopes to be free of debt, to own a comfortable house with shade trees and a wide lawn, to pos- sess a car and to acquire a bank account that will put the children through college and insure his old age against want. He might by puerile dreaming learn to desire a million dollars, and assuredly he would ac- cept a million if it should be offered; but his present desires are circumscribed by the law of probabilities. Persons who condemn money never con- demn it in small quantities. The evil in money consists in the quantity possessed by one who is richer than he who condemns. And as a general thing those who condemn quantities of money have by much think- ing concerning great fortunes kindled within their minds an envy that robs them of peace and, being tormented by envy, Subadnes in the belief that the thing they desire and cannot get is evil. I am conscious of possessing two natures, and because I am a normal man I am per- suaded that other persons have dual na- tures. One nature persuades me to love simple things— homely fare, a little house snuggled under trees on a quiet village street, un- pretentious friends, the freedom of shirt sleeves, a ramble in the woods, work that taxes muscles, a book and a pipe under an evening lamp, a romp with the kiddy. This nature is wholesome and, though it offers little of adventure and nothing of excite- ment, reason insists that it is the better part of me. The other nature scorns simplicity. It would have me in a castle standing at the end of a shaded drive miles back from an iron gate that shut out the world. There would be high-vaulted ceilings and rooms lighted by a thousand candles, gay friends by the score to drink my liquor, fine clothes and finer manners, horses, hounds and guns and joyous days of loafing and joyous nights of frolic. This is the nature left to me from childhood, and it believes in fairy tales and dreams. By working hard I can get the money to gratify the nature that is content with sim- ple things, and by grace of a defensive phil- osophy I can persuade myself that the things desired by my other nature would not be good for me. Men get what they can and, for the most part, spend in proportion to their getting. Money does not b vice any more than want breeds virtue. Rather the desire for money encourages industry, industry en- courages sanity and sanity insists upon virtue. It is not money that is filthy, but only the abnormal man who, being bent upon evil, uses money for filthy purposes, as other and better men use it to cleanse and enlighten and beautify the world.

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——s sean na Ie ne ett A OO OC CO LLL AA gp ee me _ = Class in Bacteriology Camp Pike, Arkansas THE SATURDAY EVENING POST on Ws) ARMY BUILDS MEN EARN, LEARN AND TRAVEL THE ARMY is a school where a boy can learn to be a man among men. Mind and body are trained by expert teachers. He earns a good living and can learn to be a skilled man in a trade, if he chooses. And all the while he is broaden- ing out—living in new places, mak- ing new friends and finding new opportunities. That’s why, when a soldier goes back to civil life from the new dem- ocratic peace-time Army, he has an advantage over the stay-at-homes. Auto-Mechanics Class Camp Eustis, Virginia

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A glow of candlelight, or, rather, of electric lamps made in the shape of candles and fastened in gilt brackets, gave a glamour to the women’s hair and to their white arms and shoulders. Their diamonds twinkled with little points of light. The men’s shirt fronts gleamed white, and here and there the medals of Italian officers glinted like the women's jewels. Down below where we sat only about four couples were dancing, and among them were Paula and Percival, go ing round dreamily, looking into each other’s eyes, whispering a word now and then Ostuni shifted in his chair as the « stra started a new dance tune in American rag time “So they go on fiddling while burns!” he said. He spoke with bitterness, that the man’s nerves were all on edge. I studied him as he sat there smoking a cigarette through a long amber mouthpiece, his face in the shadow flung across him by one of the pillars behind which we sat, but with a ray of candlelight touching his pro- file. He had a strong face, on stern lines. Rather Roman, I thought, and not unlike a youthful Cwsar. Youthful, that is, com pared with the bust of Julius Cwsar on a pedestal in this room, though he was a man of thirty-eight or so. That is, I reckoned, eighteen years at least older than that wife of his who passed us with her arms round Percival, to whom she said something that made the boy smile I did not wonder that Ostuni's nerves were on edge. He had played a difficult part in the last Italian cabinet, and his des perate efforts to cope with the financial situation and restore the order and credit of Italy had failed lamentably. He was re sponsible for the withdrawal of the bread subsidy which had increased the price of the loaf and caused riots in several towns. The people had called him “ baby starver,”’ and the if alian papers had surpassed them selves in the violence and obscenity of their cartoons. He was made the scapegoat of the government and expelled from office when the cabinet yielded to popular pres sure and renewed the subsidy. But the people were not satisfied with this expul- sion, and his life even had been threatened at Rome. He had come to Venice as a place of safety. “This strike,” he said, “may be the be- ginning of the revolution which I'm afraid is bound to come. Italy cannot stand a continuance of these conflicts. We are already a bankrupt people. We can only save ourselves from absolute disaster, from actual starvation, by an intensity of work and production. Yet these poor fools refuse to work and think that by demanding more wages and less taxes they can better their conditions, Look at Venice! For three weeks not a single ship has been un- loaded. The steamship lines are already diverting their vessels to other ports, like Marseilles. Now this railway strike cuts us off from the other cities of Italy, and every city from its neighbor. ,Venice is already short of food, with only three ds ays’ stock. In a week, in less than that, there will be a famine. And anarchy, as sure as fate.’ “Pretty serious,”’ I assented. Paula and Percival came and sat next to us. Ostuni patted his wife’s hand. “You never tire of dancing, carissima. | m glad you have a good partner, though I disapprove of too muc *h gayety, with our poor Italy in such a desperate state.” He smiled over at Percival in the friend- liest way, and I saw the boy’s hand tremble a little as he lit a cigarette. A faint color crept beneath his fair skin. =a must find a partner somehow,” said Paula, “with a husband like an old bear, and a ‘sulky one! You are always worrying about the state of Italy and the poverty of the people. I find that so dull. So dull! I want to enjoy youth and get all there is of the beauty of life. The people—bah! they are a dirty lot.” She spoke pettishly, like a spoiled child, and Percival laughed. But I saw a shadow cross Ostuni’s face “Do not speak of the people like that, said gently. “In the war they were heroic. They have suffered terribly, and now have no reward for all their sacrifice. We who escaped the greater suffering must dedicate our lives to the people, and help them by every means,” yrches Rome and I could see carissima,”” he THE SATURDAY EVENING POST VENETIAN LOVERS (Continued from Page 9) “I hate them!” said Paula. “I hate dirt and poverty and misery. Most of it, anyhow, is their own fault. You say so yourself. Why don’t they work, instead of abusing people like ourselves?” Ostuni looked round the room, into which more people had come from the gal- leries upstairs. “There is much to abuse here,”’ he said. ‘These profiteers, who have gorged them- selves fat like vultures on the business of war, on the dead bodies of youth—these shameless people!” He struck his hand a sharp blow on the arm of his chair, in a kind of passion. Paula laughed in her silvery way. “They obey the law of life, my husband. Some gain, some lose. But do not let us talk politics. I want you to give me that rope of pearls which we saw in the window at the corner of St. Mark’s Square. It is a wonderful bargain, and foolishly cheap.” “T told you no, carissima,”’ said Ostuni gently. ‘We are too poor. Thank God, anyhow I have made no money out of this war, though they call me also, in their ignorance, a bloodsucker. What do you want with more jewels? Even those dia- monds hurt my eyes, because I think of the starving people. And anyhow it is dangerous to wear them where the people may see. Look, there are eyes upon you now. Not friendly eyes.” He turned his head slightly toward the window by the side of us. Then, as often before, faces were pressed against the window panes and eyes were staring into this great room with its lights and its white-armed women and its look of luxury. [ thought then, though I may have been mistaken, that as Ostuni turned his head his name was spoken by someone in the street outside, by a voice belonging to one of those staring faces pressed hard against the window panes, “Impertinent wretches!” said Paula, turning her back on the window and those watchers. She caught hold of her husband’s hand as it lay on his knee, and pleaded with him in a childish way: “Buy me those pearls, Luigi! I will give you no peace until you do.” “No, no!" said Ostuni. “‘Is not my love worth more than a foolish trinket?” He took up her hand and kissed it, and would have kissed it again if she had not dragged it away ina passion. “You are old and mean!” she said in a low voice. “You do not care for me now. Let us dance again, ragazzo bellissimo.”’ Those last words were to Percival, who had been distressed by the conversation that had gone on, and now rose with a look of relief, though shyly because of Ostuni. They danced away from us and then disappeared behind a pillar. “She is still a child,” said Ostuni. “She does not understand. I want only her happiness, and yet because of my career and duty I have left her much alone. I wish she would be less intolerant of the poor people. She thinks I am a foolish sentimentalist. It is the intolerance of youth and happiness.” was tempted to lean forward to him and say, “Take your wife away if you want to keep her. Do not leave her too much alone again. It is very dangerous for you and for her.” I did not yield to that temptation, be- cause something happened to disturb all conversation. The orchestra was playing that piece called Destiny, which has a sound lighter than its name, and there was the swish of silk shoes on polished boards, and light ripples of laughter frorn girls taik- ing to their men at little tables on the edge of the dancing place. Suddenly into the midst of these pleasant sounds came a startling crash, very close to where I sat, followed by a tinkle of broken glass. Someone from outside had hurled a stone straight through the window. It fell close to Ostuni and broke one of the electric candle lamps before it fell. There was a sensation in the room, though it took the form of silence instead of noise. Everybody sprang up, and then stood still, and the dancers stayed motionless for a few seconds, From the street came a gust of harsh laughter, and then a shout in one man’s voice: “Ostuni! A morte!” Bandito! Porco! Scellerato! Three times the name of Ostuni was shouted out, followed by foul words. Then, as one could hear, the crowd outside was scattered by the sharp report of a rifle shot or pistol shot, and after that there was silence in the street as well as in the room. Ostuni was standing rather rigid and very pale. The first words he said were spoken to me: “The trouble is beginning. Why do they hate me most of all? I have done my best for them Ostuni was quite right when he said it was the beginning of trouble. Looking back now I see that he had been right about other things, especially the danger of flaunting wealth so openly in the face of the multitude made bitter by the soaring prices of foodstuffs and all necessities of life, while Venice was infested with rich people who had made great profits out of a world con- flict. It was bitter irony which made the ople fasten on his name and desire his dlood, as the worst enemy of their class and interests. Our hotel, which had seemed securely aloof from all this trouble until that stone came crashing through the window, did not escape from internal disorder and the spirit of this conflict. It came home to us closely before another day passed, and afterward more seriously. All the waiters and hotel servants, including the cooks and the scullions, went on strike before the next day’s dinner. We were all sitting at table, waiting for the soup—the same women in their filmy frocks, the same dandified Ital- ians and rich Greeks and English tourists when the hotel manager, who called him- self a Swiss, and was, I think, an Austrian, announced the dread news to hungry peo- ple. He spoke in Italian, French and Eng- lish, and made the same little speech in each tongue: “Ladies and gentlemen, owing to the strike of all our servants, with the excep- tion of the female staff and a few others, I et that it is impossible to serve dinner this evening.” That made a greater sensation than the crashing of the stone through the window downstairs. To he denied food seems a worse calamity to prosperous people than to be in physical danger of a more violent kind. There was an uproar of voices, ex- postulations, lamentations. “ Disgraceful!"’ said an English lady, the wife of a clergyman. “Surely the police ought to prevent such a thing!” One of the waiters came into the room. He was one of those I had seen whispering in the hall the day before, a sinister wild- eyed fellow. He had changed from his waiter’s clothes into an ordinary civilian suit, and wore a red scarf round his neck. He stood by the buffet from which the waiters used to serve, and laughed harshly. “Our turn has come!" he said. “ And yours. This is more than a strike. It is revolution. It is a fight between the people and the fat pigs who have betrayed them. You are the fat pigs, the profiteers, the robbers of the people’s wealth. Now you may go hungry. You will know what it means to the poor who starved while you gorged. Those plump arms of your overfed women will shrink a little. Take care those white necks are not tied round with rope and hung from the balconies of Venice. And you, Luigi Ostuni, bloodsucker and baby starver’’—he stretched out his arm toward my friend, who was sitting facing me at table, with Percival and Paula on each side of us—‘‘be very careful not to show yourself to the people. They are ask- ing for you. They want small pieces of you to carry as souvenirs.” He gave again that harsh insolent laugh, and went from the room just as several Italian gentlemen rose from their chairs with intent to thrash him or hur! him out. One of them held a table knife like a dag- ger. Something in his eyes told me that he would have stuck that waiter through the throat if he had uttered another insult. But passion and indignation did not pro- duce a dinner. Some of us went foraging in the kitchen and brought up meats and pies which were good enough for a picnic meal. It restored good humor to some of the vis- itors, and Paula especially thought it all a good joke as she and Percival shared the wing of a fowl. She had pluck, I thought, and was not cowed by those threats against her husband, who sat pale and silent, and did not eat the food T handed to him. November 20,1920 Once he made a remark to me in a low voice: “I believe that fellow is right. This is more than a strike. It is revolution.” I made allowance for his pessimism, and saw no sign of real revolution next day in fenice, but “7 the anxiety of shop- keepers and a rather sullen attitude among small groups of men and women who stood talking in St. Mark’s Square and on the Rialto, where the crowds were thicker be- low the old bridge where once Shylock called for his ducats and his daughter, and Antonio heard the news of doom. The weather was hot again, and the Grand Canal seemed like molten gold be- neath the sun’s glare, and every gondola, every painted mooring pole and the Amer- ican battleship were perfectly mirrored there on the smooth shining water. On the other side the Church of Santa Maria della Salute and the Island of San Giorgio were dazzling in this sunlight beneath a sky of intense cloudless blue. The pigeons preened them- selves in St. Mark’s Square. The figures on the old clock above the gateway struck the hours lazily, beggars lay sleeping during the afternoon siesta on the marble seats by the Doge’s Palace. No sign of revolution. But that evening, before dusk, ugly things began to happen. From all the nar- row winding streets—round the fonda- menta di San Zaccaria, the Calle Lunga, the Campo di Santa Maria Formosa there came crowds of men and women of the poorest classes, and groups of boys and girls, out for mischief. They were shouting * and singing and shrieking out revolutionary cries. From what I heard afterward, they started attacking the provision and clothes shops down the Merceria under the Clock Tower; but when I met them they had surged into St. Mark’s Square and were loot- ing some of the rich shops, especially jew- elers’ shops, which cater to the tourists of the a gg The Italian police had disap- peared, and at that time no soldiers had come on the scene. As a stranger and a prudent man, with a long experience of mobs and riots, I had decided to beat a retreat before I became involved, when I saw to my alarm and astonishment that Percival and Paula were in the midst of a menacing crowd outside one of these jewelers’ shops. Young Goring had already been hit by a bit of broken glass—the windows had been smashed to splinters—and there was a nasty gash down his cheek, bleeding profusely. He was very pale and held Paula by one arm while he tried to elbow his way out of the crowd about him. The girl was passionately angry. I think her anger had entirely destroyed all sense of fear. She called the crowd dogs and bigs, and bade them get out of her way and let her pass. I noticed even then—and I think it queer that at such a moment I should have seen this detail—that she wore a rope of pearls about her neck. Percival Gorin had bought her the treasure which she ha been refused by her husband, and I think it was the sight of those pearls which inflamed the anger of the mob, as much as her words. It was the women who called her the worst names—coarse names from the vo- cabulary of Boccaccio, untranslatable and I think she understood the meanin . them, for a wave of color swept into face, but she held her head high conde. with a most arrogant and scornful look. Whether they would have laid hands on her and young Goring I am not sure. I be- lieve they were in great danger, but at that moment a small body of Carabinieri, swun into the square, and at a word of comman which rang out the crowd fell away a little from the boy and girl. I joined them and spoke anxiously: “Don’t run, but walk fast. If they follow, get into the cathedral.” “T am net afraid,”’ said Paula Ostuni. “They are only a dirty rabble.” “I'm afraid,” said Percival. ‘For your sake, Paula. Walk faster, for God’s sake!” The crowds did not follow. We were just out of the square when we heard the firing of the volley that, as we knew afterward, killed several men and women and led to rioting and fighting in a night of terror. Paula stopped just outside our hotel and dabbed Percival’s cheek with a lace hand- kerchief. “You were my knight,” she said. “TI will kiss the blood that flowed for me.” (Continued on Page 90)

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 87 5) = = (e fy il | ae tere ay <= 7 va)” ore

I WENT TO BUY A PHONOGRAPH : } . . 2 R I found one—and something infinitely greater

Che! SBOLIAN VOCALION EFORE | purchased | graphs had but meagerly portrayed. Del- reflecting my spirit, that the joy was close e tonal-tints that marked t st ; kin to wroductio ; thoug looked at manv phono icate tonal-tints that marked the subtle akin to actual production—as though I ‘* .* difference of instrument and instrument. myself were sounding the very note graphs. Fine instruments though some of them were, the gtridency. ¢] differences seemed trifling. All Che demonstrator asked meif | wished voice the latent music-instinct of my soul. looked alike. In playing, one to play it. What could he mean? How ttttte+ | nep did, perhaps, a little better with could one play a phonograph! The Graduola—the exclusive tone con And the nm a miraci of! |

All untinged with any hint of phonograph And so I found the greater phonograph lat gave to me, at last, the means to ins : -_ ic hap- trol feature of the Vocalion—adds im j instrumental music; anotne! pave | | \ j . . , ‘ e | 1. I became tl ttalented and measurably tothe interest and enjoyment a shade more perfect reproduc- versatile musician the wildest flight of of the phonograph. No musical knowl- tion of the human voice. Imagination could picti edge is needed to operate the Graduola } ‘ I , And then, at last, my quest led me to I played the flut ind reveled inthe and the Vocalion will play records with the greater phonograph—andalltheothers joy of expr ing my inmost music feel out it, like other phonograph But u S i & J I ; t I taded trom my mind. ing in its liquid, 1 llow ton ing the Graduola gives a sen of partici { It was a very beautiful instrument to I played the violin—and all the wist pating in the performance and ' look at—this greater phonograph. Chai ful string beauty of that wizard instru thrilling and fascinating experienc acter and distinction showed in every ment responded to my mood and wish. Added tothe Vocalion’s marked suy . . . t line; in its rare d pth of finish was sug I play ithe krench horn, the clarinet, ority in tone, the beauty of its cases and gested the richne of old mahogany. the 'cello. I whistled. I ever ing excellence of its mechanical features, the \ record was put in and [ heard sound first with a full-throated baritone, and — tact that this instrument alone p [ never dreamed a phonograph could re then witha marvelous and b ke tenor the wonderful Graduola, establishe t t roduce. Sweet, full richnesses of tone, Did I rea lo th thing No! But ipremacy in the phonograph world. } t I r vibrant with the very quality of /ife.. that wonderful phonograph did them a Vocalion prices compare tave rably with Deep voices of the orche stra other phono der my control: So utter y, so completely those of other standard phonograph R

vv COMPANY, Ako.ian HALL, NEW YORK CITY Pari Maprip Metpournt SYDNEY THE AEOLIAN Foremost —Manufuct rer F Wu al IL nts im th WM oorla Makers Da art Pian f the

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 AWS ANGELES — WEW Yor V3 DAYS 5 HOURS Copyright 1920, by The Goodyear Tire & Rubber Co ran G ivear Aignway ir ¢ veiceran c IS] p by motor truck from Los Angeles $

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST so Quickening the Nation’s ‘Iransport ' With the Easy-Rolling Pneumatics i At 11:15 p. m. on June 20th, 1920, certain New Yorkers, homeward bound from i Broadway entertainment, saw a huge motor truck on big pneumatic tires looming \ up in the glare of West Side street lights. Exactly 13 days, 13 hours and 15 min- y utes before, this highway cruiser had borne eastward out of Los Angeles. In the | interim, it had broken the world’s truck record for this coast-to-coast run of 3,451 miles; indeed, had covered the distance in the actual running time of 13 days and 5 hours fiat. Although a heavy duty transport with a previous record of 120,000 miles traveled in 32 states, including three former transcontinental trips, it had overwhelmed the time schedules of all other trucks, light and heavy. ‘ And it rolled into New York City on California air. Not one of its powerful Goodyear Cord Tires had been removed from a wheel during this gruel- ling race against time over mountain, desert and prairie to victory. URELY the feat described here makes vividly clear why motor trucks on Goodyear Cord Tires are found extremely advanta- q geous in the present transportation situation. Hy In vital duty, the pneumatic-shod couriers are decisively surpass- | ing old schedules, are short-cutting over routes formerly un- ( attempted and are enlarging delivery range. Pneumatic traction surmounts handicaps of weather and grade; ) pneumatic cushioning saves drivers, loads, trucks and roads; pneu- matic quickness increases deliveries and earnings. In the burly strength of Goodyear Cord construction is the valu- able means by which all these outstanding virtues of the big pneumatics are made most intensely practical. Uniformly high mileage records now reflect that long pioneering period, prior to their public introduction, during which Good- year Cord Tires were tested on Goodyear fleets. Such records, plus analyses of hauling costs supplied by many businesses, can be obtained from The Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company, Akron, Ohio, or Los Angeles, California. th Hu}

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Vernon, Augusta, Ga == | seratch before they hurt you!” | and the | heard, quite distinctly, the THE SATURDAY (Centinued from Page 86) She put the handkerchief to her lips and in her emotional Italian way kissed the red sti ains on it. “I’d have spilt more blood than that said the boy. “The “y were like wild beasts.’ “Listen!” said Paula. “Some of them are dying because of their beastliness.’’ Some more shots rang out in St. Mark’s Square, and I hated to hear the sound of them, and hated to see the smile on that girl’s face. “They are ge tting what they deserve, she said. ‘‘The dogs!’ I think even Percival was startled by her joy in the sound of those shots, which he knew meant death. “Poor wretches!”’ he said. But he was very tender to Paula when, nearly fainting for a minute, in spite of her disdain of danger at the time, she sat back in one of the low chairs in the tea room of our hotel. He went down into the kitchen, a cheerless place now, with only a few old women in attendance, and made some tea and brought it up. By this time Paula had recovered and was merry again, laughing at her adventure, and fingering her pearls like a child playing with a new toy. “They were cheap, you say?” I asked. And she replied: “Wonderfully cheap. Only forty-five thousand lire!" Five hundred pounds in English money. Yes, cheap for a rope of pearls, and not ruinous to young Goring, heir to Lan- cashire cotton mills, but a folly and a shame at a time of wretchedness in a bank- rupt country. I held my tongue about that. What was the good of protesting to this girl, who was utterly irresponsible, entirely callous of her yeople’s misery; or to Percival, who was vewitched by her beauty? Yet I went to the boy's room that night, determined to give him a more serious warning, to appeal to that sens¢ of honor in him which for a while seemed destroyed by lovesickness. I had found it impos- sible to sleep. Ugly things were happen- ing in Venice. It was quite quiet along the Riva degli Schiavoni, the quay side below my windows. Some American bluejackets stood on guard by the Vaporetto landing stage, and I saw the gleam of their bay- onets and heard them talking in low voices. But from the direction of St. Mark’s Square narrow calle behind came the sound of rioting. I could hear distant shout- ing, and now and then screams of women. There was a fire burning somewhere, and its ruddy glare touched the pale-blue sky of this Venetian night. From another quarter,came the sound of rifle shots, and I rat-tat-tat of machine-gun fire. Once a woman came running past the landing stage and cried out in anguish as she ran: “O Gesi! . O Maria, Madre di Cristo!" The American bluejackets barred her way, and for some time she stayed there, making shrill lamentations. No, it was impossible to sleep, and I put on my dressing gown and went down the corridor to Percival Goring’s room. The door was ajar, and he had left his light burning. I called to him twice, and, getting no answer, went into the room and found it was empty. He had not been to bed yet, and none of his clothes were lying about. A sense of uneasiness took hold of me, and after hesitating in the room a few moments I went out again and down the great stair- case to the gallery overlooking the hall. Perhaps young Goring was asleep or smok- ing in one of the big chairs down there, It wes the kind of thing he would do in his present state of mind. Only one light was burning in that great cavernous space below the arches. It was an electric lamp on one of the small tables by the sculptured fireplace, and it made a round pool of light on the polished boards and reached out in the room to gilded brackets and marble pillars and Venetian mirrors which faintly sparkled through the surrounding darkness. It also illumined two figures sitting close in one of the big leather chairs. They were Paula Ostuni and Percival. I was certain it was the Ital- ian girl because her face was turned to the lamplight above a vague shimmer of blue silk which was her dressing gown. Of Per- cival I could see nothing except a black form and a.streak of white where the light caught the edge of his shirt front. But I heard his voice. “What can we do?” he said. ‘We can’t go on like this, now that we know we love EVENING POST each other. Oh, Paula, I thought we could just be pals!” There was a note of anguish in his voice. Paula answered him with that soft Ital- ian purr of hers which could sometimes change to harshness, as I had heard. “Foolish child! Are you afraid of love, then? I want you and you want me. It is very simple. It is just life. We will go away toge ther with our love. Bellissimo! ‘I’m sorry we found out,” said Percival. “T thought it could just be friendship.” ‘Between you and me it was love—from the first,” answered Paula; and I think she had her arms about him then. “It was your boyhood, your clean English look, which caught hold of me. ‘That is my boy,’ I said. Little boy of mine, you are afraid be- cause my love is so like a flame which scorches you. Do not be afraid of burning!” “It’s a sweet fire,” said Percival; “but, oh, my dear, I feel ashamed when I think I shall drag you into dishonor. Have you thought of that? What will Ostuni say, and all the world?” “Love is above honor,” said Paula. “It is above law. What do I care about the world, or anything, with you as my little lover, my big little English boy?” I was an eavesdropper there in that dark gallery, but it was only after those few mo- ments that I was conscious of shame in listening to words not meant for me. Be- fore then I had been held by a kind of spell, fascinated by that revelation of two souls confessing a love which one of them knew was sinful so that he was agonized. A great anger took hold of me against the girl, that catlike creature who was weaving her witchery round this English boy, and I had a mind to go straight down to her with violent words and all the indignation which stirred me. And then suddenly I had a sense of pity for them both, for these two children of life, so young, so mastered by the passion of their youth. How could one help them out of this trap into which the old devil had lured them both? I turned to go out of the dark archway, but drew back again suddenly. Another figure passed down the corridor and looked over the bal- ustrade. It was Ostuni’s voice which called out quietly: “Are you there, carissima?”’ I heard the noise of a swift rustling move- ment in the hall below. Paula was standin up alone, by the shaded lamp. Perciva had drawn back into the darkness and was invisible. “Is that you, Luigi?’ she answered; and her voice shook a little. “Yes,” he said. ‘‘I cannot sleep. There is bad work in Venice to-night. Will you not come up to your room? I was anxious when I looked in and saw that you had gone.” “T was restless,” she answered again. " And it is cooler down here.” “I will come down to you,” said Ostuni. She did not answer him, and again I heard the sound of a quick movement down below. Ostuni went down the corridor. I saw his dark figure at the head of the stairs, and a moment later young Goring stood face to face with me. He had come up the other stairway, very swiftly and silently, and I saw the whiteness of his face. I grasped him by the wrist and whispered to him, and I think my sudden apparition gave him a great shock. *Fool!"’ I said. ‘And worse than fool if you go on like this!" He asked me what the devil I meant, and I told him plainly as we stood outside his door. “That girl is luring you to dishonor. You are up to the neck in it now. What abot your mother, who is lying ill, pray- ing for you? Is this the time for love- making with Ostuni’s wife?” I think that reminder of his mother hit him hard. Too hard, I think now, for it was pretty cruel of me. “Hell!” hesaid. “I ought to have caught that train. Now it’s too late, anyhow.” He put his hand up to his head, and I could see that he was almost crying. I turned up the light in his room, and when he came in I shut the door after him. “Cut and run,” I said. “It’s the best plan. I'll help you all I know. If there are no trains, ride. You can get a horse. If there are no horses, walk. I'll come with you. ‘Too late!” he groaned. “Paula and I have found out we love one another, We're fairly in the cart!” For two hours that night I sat with him, arguing, pleading, protesting, and it was November 20,1920 all useless and ended in a quarrel when I said that Paula Ostuni was an immoral little baggage who ought to get a whipping from her husband. “Clear out of my room,” he said, ‘ I'll throw you out!” The boy was infatuated, though con- science stricken, torn between loyalty to that mother of his who lay ill and, for all he knew, dying, and to that Italian girl who had roused the first passion of his heart so that he was Romeo to her Juliet, and on fire with love. I saw there was only one chance of saving him from immediate shipwreck of honor, and of happiness too, after passion should be spent—one day he would find out the hardness of the spirit behind that pretty face—and that was by the ending of the strike, so that he could have no excuse for staying away from the mother who called for him. I hoped to God there would be a train from Venice in the morning. The truth was that Venice in the morn- ing had a sinister look, and so far from showing any sign of peace was preparing for renewed conflict. A score of people had been killed in the night, and large numbers wounded. Some of the soldiers had gone over to the mob, or had at least refused to fire on them, and the others were outnum- bered and cowed by the ferocity of the strikers and the crowds of looters. Many of the little courts and alleys of Venice were barricaded; all the shops were shut and boarded, if they had not been already wrecked; and in St. Mark’s Square there were great gatherings of revolutionary spirits addressed by violent orators, among whom I recognized the waiter at the Hotel Dandolo who had made a-scene in the dining room by outrageous and menacing words. I listened to him on the outskirts of the crowd, and heard the name of Ostuni re- peated many times and greeted each time with hootings and jeers. “The fellow is obsessed with hatred of Ostuni,”” I thought, and then pressed nearer, to catch the gist of his speech. “Here in Venice,”’ he shouted, “‘we have our worst enemy—the man who tried to starve our women and children by putting up the price of the loaf, so that he and his fellow robbers might grow fatter on the profits of dear bread. What is the punish- ment for a crime like that?” “Death!” cried many crowd. “*In the old days of Venice,”’ shouted this orator of the mob, ‘‘the Council of the Five Hundred had merry ways with poor devils who displeased them, people like you and me who dared to voice their grievances. In that prison there across the Bridge of Sighs they tortured them in dark dungeons, and then chopped off their heads and dropped them into the canal below. We will not torture Ostuni, but if we are Venetians, and not traitors, we will drag him out of that hotel where he dances with his painted women—oh, I know them and their inso- lence—and trample him to death beneath our feet. Who will be the first to fetch him? I will show you where he hides.” There were hoarse laughter and a great shout, in which I heard the old note of cruelty when men desire the blood of other men. Some people moved away as though they would go there and then to fetch Ostuni, but the orator was not yet through with his speech, and held up a hand. I walked quickly back to the Hdtel Dandolo. That crowd meant ugly business regarding Count Ostuni. It was not merely froth of mob fury. He was sitting with Paula and Percival in the very place where these two had been that night, and I could see that he had no suspicion of the boy, or of that girl, his wife Before those two I told him what I had heard, and begged him to leave the hotel at once and take shelter in some other house. “What house?” he asked quietly, with- out a sign of fear, but without false heroics. “They would find me wherever I go.” “Go to the cardinal,”’ I said. *‘ They re- spect him for his courage and goodness. They will not lay a finger on him, nor on anyone whom he shelters.” “It’s a good idea,” said Percival eagerly. “Tt’s a ridiculous idea!"’ said Paula. “If I were a man bearing the name of Ostuni I should be ashamed to hide from a crowd of ruffians.”’ She laughed in a shrill, p aay way, and said: “‘ You will not go, “It might be hae tory ‘said Ostuni gravely. “One man against a mob has (Concluded on Page 92) voices in the

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John Philip Sousa March King of the World f the genuir tiful, the rnet thril, splen rmnmering nani po r. When Music Really — You “Tiss igor a stirring Cultivate your Musical “Bump” UK L | guns — Ge Ho Get This _ Free Book the coup. hat or ‘ah : ke He, Cc. G. Cenn, Ltd. 1236 Conn Bidg., Elkhart, Ind THE SATURDAY Concluded from Page 90) little chance. I do not mind for myself, but for your sake I want to live a little longer.” He spoke those last words with a smile, and tenderly, putting his hand on hers. She drew her hand away impatiently and jerked her head back. “T like men with physical courage,” said. I could see a little color creep beneath the skin of Ostuni’s rather pale face, and Percival looked horribly uncomfortable. “T am no coward,” said Ostuni. “I think I have proved that. I will stay here if you think like that.” Percival spoke in a low voice: “The countess spoke a little thought- lessly, perhaps. I have no right to an opinion in this matter, but I cannot help thinking that it would be risky for you to stay here, sir.” “Oh, I will stay,” lessly ‘They won't come anyhow!” said Paula. But they came, as as dusk had fallen. We heard the noise of the approach- ing crowd along the Riva degli Schiavoni, as we sat in the dining room upstairs, still eking out the scanty stores left in the kitchens. They were shouting outside the hotel, and above the growling murmur of the men’s bass voices there sounded the ‘ hrill clamor of women. ‘They have come for me, calmly. Percival Goring glanced at Paula with an expression of extreme distress. I, too, looked at her, and saw a strange glitter in her eyes, and she seemed to me rather witchlike. Her lips, so red and ripe as a rule, had lost their color, and she paled be- neath the touch of rouge on her cheeks. ‘They will make a noise,” she said. ‘Perhaps break a few more windows!” What happened was the breaking of the door downstairs, which had been shut against them by the manager, that Aus- trian, as I think he was. Percival and I had gone down from the dining room to the hall with an idea of seeing more closely what was happening, so that we might warn Ostuni of any instant peril. Other people staying in the hotel were there, too, standing in groups, with fright- ened looks. The women were in their eve- ning frocks, in spite of a picnic meal, and two or three Italian officers among them were gesticulating in an excited way. The English clergyman’s wife, a rather sour- faced lady, showed her contempt for all foreigners, and for this mob, by knitting her usuil sock as she sat in a straight- backed chair. Paula came down the great staircase, slowly dangling her rope of pearls, with a queer smile about her lips Ostuni himself was leaning over the bal- ustrade of the lowest gallery, smoking a cigarette through his long amber mouth- p ece It was then that the door was burst open with a crash and a splintering of glass and wood. The first man through was the fel- low who had been a waiter here, wild-eyed, with disordered hair, and the red tie round his neck with loose ends. A score of his fellow rioters surged after him, and a great mob pressed behind them but could not get through the door because of these others she answered Ostuni care- soon ” said Ostuni EVENING POST “Ostuni!” shouted several voices. ‘“ We have come for Ostuni!”’ They called him frightful names, to mark time, I think, while their eyes roved about the little groups of women in evening clothes, and took stock of the men who might resist them, and measured the amount of loot which might tempt them to other deeds when they had done with the man they hated most. It was Percival Goring who stood in their way. He stood very straight and rigid, as I had seen him once in a steel hat beneath a trench parapet when shells were bursting very close to us. In his clear boyish voice, and in good Italian, he spoke to the mob, who were silent when he raised his hand and began to speak, so that one heard only their panting breath. ‘The Count Ostuni is not here,” he said. “He is dining in another house of Venice, somewhere along the Grand Canal. You waste your time in staying here, if that is the man you want.” “You lie!” said the ex-waiter savagely. “We have kept wetch on this place. Ostuni came in this afternoon and has not stirred out since. “You are mistaken,” calmly. ‘He has gone.’ I glanced up at the balustrade where Ostuni had been standing. He was there still, but had withdrawn behind a pillar, and only part of his figure was revealed. “‘No mistake, young puppy dog!” said the leader of the mob. “Stand back while we search this den of thieves—ithis palace of profiteers, this pigsty. Stand back, or I'll break your head!’ For a moment I did not see what hap- pened next between Goring and this black- guard. A window in the great salon came crashing through, and several men and ragamuffin boys came through the empty framework. They were madly excited, and with shouts of laughter smashed some of the lights, overturned tables with glass- ware and porcelain, tore the silk curtains in strips, and wore the rags as scarfs. That was what I saw afterward, though at the time I was only aware of this new incursion and of its pandemonium. Percival Goring had seized a brass candlestick from a bracket on the wall and raised it above his head; but that gesture of his, which meant a broken skull for someone, made the fore- most men_recoil a moment. Then something happened which was the worst thing—at least as bad a thing as any woman might do in treachery to a husband for the sake of a lover. It was a girl who did it, and that was the pretty Paula with the ripe, red lips and face of witchery. She was the only woman now downstairs. The others had fled to the upper galleries, leaving the Italian officers and about eight other men on the stairs at the foot of the grand staircase. She had been standing by a carved oak chair, holding to the back of it with a fight grip, which suddenly she let go to come swiftly like a young tigress in front of Percival, facing that wild-eyed waiter and his mob ‘Do not lay hands on this boy!” she cried. “I beseech you not to harm him. If you wz ant Ostuni I will tell you where to find him.’ I saw young Percival lower his candle- stick and all the color fade from his face, leaving it gray, like an old man’s skin. said young Goring November 20,1920 “Paula!’’ he said in a voice of horror. “For God's sake She spoke again, panting, with one arm, one of her plump white arms, thrust out as though to shield Goring. ‘If you will let this boy alone I will tell you where to find the man you want.’ “Paula!” cried Percival again. ‘For the love of God i The leader of the mob laughed harshly, and his laughter was echoed by the men behind him. “We'll let the lambkin go if you tell u where to find the wolf. We want Ostuni the bloodsucker!”’ “He is there,”’ said Paula. She flung up her arm toward the balcony, where still | saw a glimpse of Ostuni’s figure behind the pillar. “‘Ostuni is up there, hiding among the women, while a boy shields him.” It was a plain betrayal, deliberate, most treacherous. Ostuni himself heard his wife’s words, understood them, answered them. He came from behind the pillar and stood clear in the light, looking down on the mob ‘IT am here,” he said in a cold hard voice. “Do your killing quickly, and spare the rest. I am only afraid that you should let me live with that woman who betrays me.” At the sight of Ostuni there was a mo- ment’s silence among the mob. They stared up at him with a kind of smiling greedi- like beasts who see their food. Then they surged forward to the stairway. Young Goring had fallen back to the lower stair, and I was next to him, with other men about us. I saw his candlestick come down like a flash, and the foremost man fell. Then he, too, fell from a blow in the face. It was like a fight of wolves on that stairway, and they forced us back almost to the first gallery, but not without casualties on their side, and several on ours. An Italian officer of the Bersaglieri, a young giant of a fellow, lifted up one of the rioters and heaved him over the balustrade so that he fell as senseless as a log. I had Italian hands about my throat, and should have choked if rescue had not come just then. It came in the rear of our attackers, and was good enough. A squad of American bluejackets sprang upon the mob struggling for possession of the stairs, and set about them with butt ends, and with bayonets if they had much trouble. It was a rapid bit of work, and at the end of it, when the prisoners were hustled out, the Hétel Dandolo was not a pretty sight A number of broken-pated and bleeding men lay about the floor and stairs, and among them was young Percival. Paula Ostuni had fled to her room. She came to the hospital where the boy was being nursed by nuns, but he would not see her. “Tell her,” happy escape. He wept then so that his pillow was wet. His boy’s heart had had a nasty knock. He could not forgive that girl’s treachery to her husband — the offer of Ostuni’s life to the mob—though it had been for love of him. We left Venice when the strike ended, after something not quite as bad as revolu- tion, and by a paper which I picked up in the train I saw that Ostuni had reached Paris in safety. But he went alone. ness, he said, “that I’ve had RALPN CARLYLE PRATHER,

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~ TO mie = re etemeeat He rose at once to the new level, and above it. For him civil war was a terrible misfortune, and his own part in it could be justified only if it led to the moral and social regeneration of the community. But, keep- ing this object steadily before him, he sought to forge an instrument powerful enough to enable him to attain it, and was ever ready withal to seize a favorable op- portunity to remove the destinies of the republic from the arbitrament of the bat- tlefield to the council chamber of the National Palace. From the outset Obreg6n set about creat- ing an army after his own heart and bent all his efforts to that end. He began by inculcating THE SATURDAY EVENING POST ALVARO OBREGON: AS MILITARY LEADER (Continued from Page 15) In all this one should not lose sight of the inevitable influence which a bitter civil war invariably exercises on the most enlight- ened and clement of military commanders, or of the cardinal fact that from the day when he first left his home to take up arms against the enemies of good government Obreg6n consistently strove to permeate his troops with a spirit of humanity and moder- ation, while most of the hostile bodies against which he fought had no ethical idea whatever, no guiding principle, and held out noattraction but such as proceeded from the prospect of license, loot, promotion or the gratitude of a chief to whom they were upon his fellow officers and their men the idea that they were fighting for justice and liberty and were discharging thereby a duty to their country, their families and themselves, the con- sciousness of having ac- complished which was to be their sole reward. He knew every officer and in the - beginning every soldier personally, and he treated them all in a spirit of true com- radeship. He never once struck a private or re- viled him publicly in anger; neither did he ever hesitate to punish an officer, however high his rank, for cowardice or disobedience. At the historic battle of Celaya, for example, observing that Colonel Kloss had executed a half turn with the artillery under his command at the mo- ment when Obregén’s forces were beginning to waver, he unhesitat- ingly ordered him to be arrested and shot unless he could justify his con- duct to the satisfaction of his superiors. Thus the bonds of union between the chief sae Does he not support you? Is he out of work?’ “**My husband is with General Orozco, fighting, so I have to do the best I can for the children.’ “*Well, my good woman, take this little present from me. It will help you get some- thing more substantial than roots for your- self and family to eat’; and with that I handed her a twenty-peso gold piece. But she gave me a look half defiant, half con- temptuous, and said she did not need my gold. I shall never forget that look. I've seldom felt more humiliated in my life Offering a hurried apology, I bade her good 95 During the operations which he con- ducted in Sonora he expelled from the army and also from the territory of that state, among others, two officers named respec- tively Cafiado and Dr. Philip Dussart, for conduct which was deemed unworthy of army men. The disgrace rankled in the hearts of the two dishonored individuals, who thereupon went over to the hostile forces, nursed their grudges and bode their time. Later on, when the fortune of war had seemingly placed Obregén beyond their reach, his evil genius played him a nasty trick and appeared about to give them the revenge they yearned for. The episode, of which I wit- nessed the final chapter in Yucatan, is thrill- ingly interesting. The facts are briefly these: Obregén went to the city of Chihuahua to in- duce Villa to take part in a meeting of generals convened by Carranza in Mexico City, the ob- ject of which was to dis cuss the most efficacious measures of safeguard- ing the interests of the revolution. A ball was arranged for Obregén and his military com- rades, whom Viila hailed with apparent pleasure. But after lunch on the day of the festivities Villa sent his cheuffeur with a motor car to take Obregén to his house, where he desired to have a quiet and friendly talk with him. Facing Death As soon as Obregén entered the room Villa rose and exclaimed: ‘General Hill fancies he can play with me. You are a traitor and I am going to have you shot at once.’ Turning to one of his secretaries he ordered him to telephone for a and the rank and file were common aims, per- sonal attachment and loyalty. Naturally this jdeal relationship could subsist only so long as the men under his orders were rel- atively few; but Obregén assures me that it was fairly well maintained among as many as three thousand men. Very soon, however, owing to his rapid advancement, his command extended far beyond the radius within which his moralizing per- sonal influence could directly reach and effectually mold it, however earnestly he might strive to imbue it with his own spirit of justice and moderation. It included large numbers of uncultured men from other armies—men on whom long years of sub- jection followed by brief intervals of satur- nalian license had left an abiding mark. And it was sheerly impossible to keep these elements always well in hand. Among the officers, too, as one learns from Obre- gon’s own accounts, were men whose moral character was streaked with inferior or corrupt fiber. As for the general himself, it should be noted that certain acts occasion- ally laid to his charge as unnecessarily cruel, such as the shooting of captured officers, were consequences of the civil war, and therefore as defensible or indefensible as the war itself. A Wayside Episode “T always had the firm intention,’’ he writes, ‘“‘to display benevolence in my deal- ings with the vanquished enemy, and of this the best proof is the treatment which the chiefs and soldiers taken at Cananea re- ceived at my hands. There I practiced the maxim embodied in my manifesto of Her- mosillo—‘ Respect for the conquered is the dignity of victory.’ But my disposition and endeavors to this end slackened and van- ished when we learned the details of the brutal way in which Ojeda’’—commander of the hostile forces—‘‘was dealing with those of our people who fell into his hands.” Lunch Given by Guatemalan Ministers to General Obregon on an Isiand Without a Name Which Belongs to Mexico and Guatemata Jointly devoted. Parenthetically, itis worth noting that disinterested —nay,altruistic— personal attachment to a leader, an employer or a friend is a curious phenomenon which con- stantly recurs in the republic, and is well worth studying. It sheds a bright side light on Mexican psychology. Obregén himself received a practical lesson on this subject, enforced by a painful rebuff, during his first campaign against the rebel Orozco. He narrated it to me one soft southern night as we sat on the deck of a Mexican gunboat gliding over the waters of the Pacific and talked about the past and the future of his country. The story incidentally illustrates his own generous disposition. ““As you know,” he began, ‘“‘I possessed a firm, unqualified faith in the justice of the cause for which I was fighting; and J took it almost for granted that it would appeal with the same force to most thinking Mex- icans. But to my intense disappointment I found on my arrival in the state of Chi huahua, and especially in the district in which my troops were quartered, that prac- tically everybody was heart and soul with the arch rebel, Pascual Orozco. For us and our cause they had no sympathy, no under- standing whatever. We were enemies, nothing more. Nor could I get them to discuss the subject. “Well, one morning when out riding | passed a female figure crouched on the ground. Moving nearer, I noticed that she was young and comely, but pale and wasted, and that she was gathering roots and throw- ing them into a basket. I bade her good morning and asked her what she was doing. **As you see, sefior, I am digging up roots.’ “*What for?’ “*For myself and children. eat, war or no war.’ “Have you no husband then?’ “Yes, I am married.’ We must morning and rode off, turning over in my mind this curious mixture of canine fidelity to an inferior type of man and a developed sense of personal dignity.” Obregén loathed soldiers of fortune who passed from chief to chief and forsook one army for another as the whim took them or self-interest prompted, and he was never tired of sifting and winnowing his officers, removing the worthless without paying the slightest heed to their antecedents, social status or influential friends met several of those condottieri during my travels in Mexico, and they gave me the impression of men deficient in moral sense. Caring nothing for principles or shibboleths, the lure of loot would cause them to change sides and —as the Irishman put it—turn their backs upon themselves in a twinkling oes ‘rs who were devoted partisans of Villa, Zapata or some oth ler chief, to whose aims they were supremely indifferent, reminded me of the Italian who fought fourteen duels to prove that Tasso was a greater poet than Dante, and when he was dying exclaimed: “I still believe that I was right, though I have not read the writings of either.”’ Obreg6n was inexorable in expelling from his army all those elements which were cal culated to destroy discipline or bring his troops into disrepute. In this way he raised up a little host of troublesome ene mies and made but one regenerate friend During the ups and downs of those revolu tionary times some of those rancorous out casts were on the very point of glutting their petty spite by taking his life or witnessing his execution. But like other men of destiny he bore a charmed life and appeared to his soldiers invulnerable. As the Turks express it, if you have luck and are thrown into the sea you will come up with a fish in your mouth; and many of Obreg6n’s experiences confirm the saying. platoon of twenty sol- diers under Major Cafiado to shoot the trai- tor. Cafiado, the man whom Obregén had branded with the mark of Cain, was about to have his lust for ven geance gratified to the full. On his arrival the execution was to take place. Obregén, who never lost his presence of mind addressed Villa, saying: “ Ever since I placed my life at the service of the revolu- tion | have held that to die for it would be a piece of luck.” It was a dramatic moment. The two generals eying each other, the one waiting for death, the other making up his mind to snuff out one more life—this time a life the loss of which would leave a great void in the republic and produce far-ranging changes in its destinies. There seemed no way of escape. Obreg6én, who was standing up in the room, had no reason to believe that he would get away with his life. But he was acquainted with the workings of his cap- tor’s mind, and was therefore expecting every minute that Villa, whc was growing impatient, would not wait until Cafiado and his escort arrived but would whip out his revolver and blow out his prisoner's brains On the other hand he deftly touched the only chord that could attune his treacherous host to a less murderous frame of mind. Obreg6én himself outlines the scene with epic simplicity as follows: “During the few moments while I was replying to Villa’s threat and while I was perhaps in danger of being assassinated by himself--as so many people had been as- sassinated by him before—there entered into the adjoining room a certain so-called general, Dr. Philip Dussart, an individual whom I had expelled from our ranks in Sonora as unworthy to belong to the Con- stitutionalist army. This person made a sign to Villa and began to applaud him, leaping by way of displaying his delight at my approaching execution and exclaiming: (Continued on Page 98)

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46 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20, 1920 OUR PARTNERS The name Dunlop comes down in an unbroken line from the beginning of the pneumatic tire industry. It is the name of John Boyd Dunlop, who invented the first practical, commercially successful pneumatic tire and whose successors were responsible for commercial develop- ment of the most important pneumatic tire principle—namely, the combination of an inner tube with a protective casing open on the inner side. It has been associated with the progressive development of tire types for tricycle, bicycle, automobile, motor-truck and motorcycle. It is associated with the first commercial develop- ment and improvement of the straight-side and also the clincher type of pneumatic. The name Dunlop today also stands for a great tire- building enterprise, with factories in England, France, Ger- many, Japan, Canada and Australia—with warehousing and selling organizations in every quarter of the globe—with vast rubber-growing lands in the Far East—with extensive cotton- raising activities and tire-fabric mills in different countries. Thus Dunlop can, in a special sense, view all who are associated with, or benefited by, the automotive industry as its partners in progress—a progress in transportation which affects practically every individual in America. The Dunlop Tire and Rubber Corporation of America, which has been established to manufacture Dunlop Tires in America, with the advantage of Dunlop processes and experience, fully recognizes this partnership in progress with the automotive industry and the public it serves. Dunlop views this partnership as representing an obligation to those who purchase and use tires, to the builders of auto- motive vehicles and to the merchants who distribute the various products of the industry. iN

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it IN PROGRESS f Therefore, Dunlop policy is a policy of mutual interest be- ) tween user, dealer and manufacturer in an effort to secure { the greatest amount of continuous transportation service from ) every Dunlop Tire. ) The Dunlop dealer thus becomes a Dunlop representative | ; THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 97 to you and your representative to Dunlop. To do this he it must as truly have selected Dunlop as it has selected him, in the mutual belief that responsibility in the manufacture and f distribution of tires does not end with the sale, nor even with any Stated mileage, but continues as long as the tire remains in use. } Such a policy, of course, calls for adequate manufacturing equipment and efficient manufacturing methods. It calls for the production of high-grade tires in volume sufficient to make such production economical. It calls, too, for unceasing ap- plication to the problem of tire development and tire im- provement. ( All these demands are met in a large-handed way by the Dunlop plant nearing’ completion at Buffalo, which represents a distinct advance in tire-building. This plant, with buildings that alone cover 35 acres and with capacity for producing 12,000 tires a day, is in itself impressive and important evi- dence of ability to serve in a way consistent with Dunlop reputation and Dunlop policy. *K * * Production of Dunlop Tires will be under way about the first of 1921 and distribution will be effected through retail channels as rapidly as is consistent with sound policy. We will welcome the opportunity to discuss distribution plans with retail tire merchants who may be interested. DUNLOP TIRE AND RUBBER CORPORATION OF AMERICA BUFFALO, NEW YORK

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i \ell-dressed men will ~&) find that a winter coat of “Suede- Like” fies every demand of satis- style and comfort. This robust, weath- er-resisting fabric conserves bodily warmth and pro- vides hardy resist- ance to wind or cold. The genuine is stamped WATER SIO LG SUEDE L IKE: How ett & HOCKMEYER Co. Makers of WATERSIDE CORDUROYS AND VELVETEENS war THE SATURDAY (Continued from Page 95) |. ‘Bravo, bravo, general! That’s the way to } do business !" “Villa’s feelings at the exhibition given by this contemptible being who was thus | cele sbrating my death were such that he ; turned all the vials of his wrath against | him, exclaiming: ‘Get out of this, you scoundrel! Away, you blackguard, or I will kick you out!’ “While this farce was being enacted by the two I continued walking to and fro in | the apartment. As soon as Dussart was ejected from the room I turned to Villa and he and I kept striding backward and for- ward in the chamber. The fury of the man was sensibly depriving him of control of his nerves, and he was constantly making con- vulsive movements which betokened his excitement. | “The only wedge I could hope to drive | into Villa’s mind was the idea which I strove to hammer into him that he would be conferring a service upon me by mur- dering me; and with that object in view, whenever he reiterated the words: ‘This time I am going to shoot you dead,’ I kept on replying: ‘On me personally you are bestowing a benefit, for this kind of death will give me an importance to-which at present I have no claim; and the only loser will be yourself.’ “By this time the escort had come. My officers were being detained in the chamber which had been prepared for me as a bed- room, Nothing was now lacking but the fatal word from Villa. He, however, con- tinued to pace the room by my side. All at once he swerved from me and darted toward the interior of the house. The moments were slipping by and our situation re- mained unchanged. “When everything was at last ready for our execution a special agent of the United States of America, Mr. Canova, appeared, doubtless for the purpose of interviewing Villa; but he was compelled to go back without seeing him, because he was not allowed to pass the threshold of the house. “The news of the order for our execution had in the meanwhile spread throughout the city, and groups of quidnuncs were gathering round Villa's house to witness the spectacle. One hour had elapsed, when Villa ordered the escort to return and re- lieved the guard at the door.” The Last Act of the Melodrama “It was about six-twenty when he came into the room, sat down and invited me to be seated beside him. Never before was I so ready to accept an invitation. I at once | took my seat on the sofa to which he had motioned me. With signs of emotion which everyone would have taken to be real, and in a tone of compunction, Villa addressed me thus: ‘Francisco Villa is not a traitor. | Francisco Villa is not the man to kill un- | armed people, and least of all to kill you, comrade, who are my guest. I am going to prove to you that Pancho Villa is a man, and if Carranza does not respect him he | will know how to discharge his duty to his country.’ “His feigned emotion waxed ever greater until his voice was choked with sobs. Thereupon a dead silence ensued, lasting for a considerable time. It was at length broken by the arrival of a lad who suddenly stalked into the room and cried, ‘Supper is ready.’ “Villa rose, dried his tears, turned to me and said: ‘Come and have supper, dear comrade, now that everything is over and done with.’ “I confess that I did not share his opin- ion that all was over and done with.” The two men then broke bread together. It was a rare meal. Villa's wife was present at it. When it was ended Villa, sceating indisposition, did not appear at the ball. Obreg6n went and danced until the small hours of the morning. Truly, it was a curious existence! The last scene of this melodrama of ven- geance and caprice was enacted one eve- ning in Merida, the capital of Yucatan, on | the eighth of September last. I was accom- panying General Obregén on his journey through the southern and eastern states of the republic, and the Socialist Party in Merida invited him and his friends to a Centenary Park of that city. As I arrived late, instead of being, as usual, near the president-elect, I sat about five yards from him. Near me was a man whose physiog- nomy arrested my attention. He was rest- less and nervous. He cast furtive glances now and again toward the guest of the EVENING POST evening. After the first toast was drunk to the health of the general, in a speech in which socialism and its enemies were the main theme, General Obreg6n delivered a masterly reply. The tide of passion rose high in Yucatan, and the flames of party fanaticism blazed fiercely in various places. A day or two be- fore one orator had asked for the heads of the burghers, and when the general inquired whether he had been authorized to speak in the name of the party, and if not what steps would be taken by the council, he was disavowed and deprived of his post. At the banquet the general spoke of the necessity of measure, of the interests of the country to which all mere party aims ought to be subordinated, and of the danger of admitting into the party professional agi- tators and individuals whose antecedents should disqualify them for admission. The guest whose changeful features I had been watching from time to time was growing more and more uneasy. After that opening the general went on to say that at that convivial board sat a man who had be- trayed the cause of the revolution, had changed sides and had leaped with joy when the rebel Villa had treacherously seized him, Obreg6n, and condemned him to be shot offhand. Dramatic Episodes “That individual is at this moment sit- ting here among us,” he remarked, “as your guest and comrade.” Cries of “Name! Name!” interrupted the orator, and among those who uplifted their voices in this outcry was the agitated individual near me. Obreg6n replied that vindictiveness was not among his defects; that what he asked for was circumspection in choosing their members and their spokesmen, not the punishment of traitors. A day later the newspapers of Merida contained a letter from Dr. Philip Dussart stating that the person alluded to in the his- toric speech was himself; explaining that his action in Villa’s house had been mis- construed; asserting that his aim had been to save Obregén’s life; and announcing that he would now go into voluntary exile from his country. Thus he chastised himself for his good intentions! Such was the end of that episode. It may not be amiss to chronicle another of the many incidents connected with Ob- reg6n's weeding-out process, inasmuch as it offers a little picture illustrating one of the enduring phases of Mexican use and wont in contact with the new muckrake which is to sweep all the old rubbish away. A promising young officer of good family came to General Obregén with letters of recommendation asking for a suitable place in his army. His credentials being unim- peachable, he was taken over and intrusted with a position of responsibility. It was part of his duty to receive certain purchases made for the army, and to pay the bills. When the general, who is a shrewd business man, looked over the accounts a few days later, he noticed that the newly arrived officer had taken for himself fifteen or twenty per cent of the sum paid. Withdut more ado he sat down and wrote an order of the day setting forth the fact, degrading the officer and expelling him from the army. The order had to be typed, and the de- linquent by virtue of his office had cog- nizance of it before anyone else. He has- tened to the general and besought him tearfully to withdraw it. His explanation was simple: “T never even suspected that I was doing wrong, because I merely followed a custom which is universal. I always did it. So do all the others. It is supposed to be one of our perquisites. I could not therefore know that in your army it was forbidden. Had I known that you regard it as a grave offense I never would have taken a centavo. So much for the past. As for the future, I swear to you that I will never fall into that error again. But please take back the ex- pulsion order, for that would be my ruin.” As Obregén was inexorable, the officer played his last trump card. “If you publish the order,” he said, “you will have signed my death warrant. I will at once blow my brains out. Surely you will not have my death on your con- science?” “Do you seriously mean to say that you will commit suicide?” “I do emphatically.” “Well, that of course alters the matter. In that case I promise to reinstate you November 20,1920 posthumously in your rank, to restore your ood name and to give you an officer's urial with military honors.” Thereupon the young man slunk out of the room with his head hanging down, like a criminal on his way to execution. “Did he blow his brains out?” I asked. “No, he went back to civil life, mended his ways and rose in the social scale. When- ever I meet him now—which is seldom—he invariably thanks me for the bitter but salutary lesson I gave him in the summer of 1915.” To curb the common soldier was a task much more difficult than to keep the officers’ corps within moderate bounds. The rank and file of the army was composed of men who, to put it mildly, lacked education and instruction. They were characterized by the cunning, the obstinacy and the sim- plicity of children of Nature. By way of illustrating one side of their psychology, I should like to narrate a little incident which happened to General Obreg6n in connec- tion with his endeavors to discipline his men. They were inordinately fond of dis- playing their emotions by emptying their rifles in the air and wasting their ammuni- tion. They continue to practice the bad habit to-day. Obregén forbade it strictly, but now and then his order was disobeyed. One day a number of shots had been fired to welcome the arrival of a train, and some arrests were made in consequence. One of the prisoners, an Indian soldier against whom there appeared as witness an officer who had seen the smoke from his rifle, ap- pealed to the general. Obregén confirmed the sentence of arrest, but the Indian per- sisted in denying his guilt and pleading for acquittal. “IT swear to you, general, that I did not fire.”’ “But the officer there saw the smoke come out of your rifle, and that settles the matter.” “No, general, it does not. I admit that there was smoke. I saw it myself, and was surprised. But it was old smoke.” It would, of course, be a gross exaggera- tion to assert that Obregén’s winnowing »yrocess was a thorough purge or that the ehavior of his officers and soldiers always differed essentially from that of their ene- mies. But speaking generally, excesses were indulged in at the risk of swift and severe punishment. That acts of unjusti- fiable cruelty and other excesses were ac- tually committed by Obreg6n’s army seems highly probable a priori when one takes into account the character of many of the officers and soldiers of his army and the frenzy that possessed them after a hard-won victory; and it appears certain u posteriori when one remembers the bitter resentment generated in the hearts of those elements of the population who at the time entertained scant sympathy for either side. The peaceful population included all the armies in one comprehensive anathema. Charges of Barbarity Circumstantial narratives of eyewit- nesses are still current in the north, espe- cially in the town of Gomez Palacio, de- scribing the butchery of wounded prisoners in a hospital and other murderous atroci- ties perpetrated by the Carranzists, whose military chief was Obregon. The source of most of the tales which acquired for that general at home and likewise abroad the unenviable reputation of a ruthless soldier is Mexico City, which he captured and occupied at the beginning of the year 1915. As I was not in the capital at the time, nothing that I can now advance by way of denial or confirmation of those charges pos- sesses the slightest value as historic testi- mony, while the stories told by residents are so colored, contradictory and at times so obviously false that their worth as con- tributions to the history of the civil war and to the biography of its most distin- guished leader is superlatively slight. With his usual audacity he occupied the city, after a laborious campaign, with in- sufficient troops to repel the attacks of the numerous Zapatist and other hostile forces in the environs—attacks which were fierce, frequent and well sustained. Inside, the smoldering animosities of the clergy, who regarded him as a sort of anti- christ, and also of well-to-do business men and foreign investors, who set him down as a socialist and leveler, were ready to burst into flame. On the very day of his entry into the city an organized attempt was made to assassinate him, which, like so (Concluded on Page 101)

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

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In this THE SATURDAY fice Frank W Can EVENING POST you accomplish more by ceaselessly driving—? Woolworth, master builder of “chain” stores, tireless worker, answered this question when he furnished this spacious office TARTING at scratch, without re sources or backing, Krank W Wool worth built one of the world’s greatest retail store organizations and the world’s tallest building His final creative work on the “chain” of over a thousand stores was done from an office in his own towering skyscraper. To day, in this office, Hubert T. Parson is carry ing on the enterprise of the great leader planning ind building on the same splendid scale. Lhe office Woolworth left it—a spaci filled Its furnishings and ad itself is just as us workroom with objects of ar cora modelled after During brief moments of relaxa snatched tions are those in imperial palaces tion from crowded days, these beautiful surroundings brought Woolworth the refreshment that he needed. Woolworth entarily, He driving does knew the value of re/axing knew that ceaseless not bring the preatest rec sults All the world’s leaders have learned the secret of alternating work with trequent, of rest In they brief moments this way themselves from breakdown under hours of effort. Save rf mg, tense ; ; , ' Phere are a dozen simple ways of getting / this momentary relaxation. A new way to snatch a moment of real relaxation Most of us have noticed, for example, that just washing the hands is often wonderfully loday there is a new way—an in that makes thisordinary, restful expensive luxury pleasant act of washing twice as refreshing. Next time you bathe your hands and face, use Jergens Violet Soap. See what a deli r of cool, fragrant cleanliness ‘ cious feelin this how it soothes simple act gives you both mind and body This soap contains a remarkable cooling agent that refreshes and stimulates. The instant the cake touches the water it releases the living fragrance of violets. Whenever you feel nervous or fatigued use if rgens Violet Soap. Use it for each of the five or six times you wash your hands every day. The same qualities that refresh you when you are tired make it just as de lighttul for ge neral use. : You can get Jergens Violet Soap wher- ever soap 1S sold—1¢ cents a cake. Send 6 cents for a guest-size cake Send us 6 cents and we will mail you a small size cake of this refreshing soap. Write today to The Andrew Jergens Company, 66. » Spring Grove Av enue, Cincinnati, ¢ Jhio If you live in Canada, address The Andrew Jergens Company, Limited, 660 Sherbrooke Street, Perth, Ontario. JERGENS VIOLET SOAP TRANSPARENT November 20,1920

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(Concluded from Page 98) many similar dangers through which he passed unscathed before and after, lent color to the belief in the army that he bears a charmed life. He himself tells the story thus: “When the entire column was already marching through the streets of the city, and just as I was passing in front of the cathedral with the members of my general staff and the escort from headquarters, a group of men began to open fire upon us from the towers of the temple, killing one of our soldiers and wounding another. [ at once detached a posse with instructions to enter the church and capture the firing party, and this was effected without diffi- culty. The individuals caught confessed that they had been posted there with orders to fire upon me the moment I was passing in front of them.’ That was a challenge which he could not leave unanswered, and it was only one of many which he received later on. Meantime the 7 Zapatists and other hos- tile troops were daily making tremendous onslaughts on his scanty army, sensibly reducing the number of his men, lessening his ammunition, which he was unable to replenish, and lowering the spirit of his troops by the ever-increasing tale of the dead, wounded and diseased. From every point of view his military position was pre- carious, and at times it seemed dishearten- ing. The enemy kept him literally besieged in the capital, continually harassing him by well-directed attacks, which, had they been properly coérdinated by units of com- mand, might have annihilated his army and stamped out the revolutionary movement for a time. So close was the ring of fire drawn round him that he dared not extend his line so far as the village of Xochimilco in the outskirts. In a word, his hold on the capital, never firm from the outset, was gradually loosening, and the prospect grow- ing rapidly darker. To the cares which the military outlook generated others possibly more disquieting still were added by the urban population, many of the elements of which were openly hostile or cove rtly disaffected to the revolu- tionary leader whose retaliatory measures were dreadedeven morethantheulteriorreal- igation of hisradical theories. It was natural therefore that the clergy, pious Catholics, prosperous Mexican and foreign merchants and capitalists with vested interests should prefer Huerta to the champion of a sub- versive movement whose name was asso- ciated by wild rumor and deliberate spite with tales of horrible cruelty and mur- derous vengeance. The desperation and enmity engendered by these beliefs and ap- prehensions might at any moment assume perilous forms and ruin the enterprise to which Obreg6n was devoting his life—and Obreg6én was not the man to give them scope for dev elopment. Emergency Measures The measures he adopted to exorcise the danger were undoubtedly drastic. The cir- cumstance that he himself and his personal friends considered that they needed ex- planation is itself an indication that there was a consuming fire where so much smoke thickened the air. But as he himself puts it: ‘War is savagery broken loose, and if civilization is to endure, it must be elimi- nated as a measure for composing interna- tional quarrels and harmonizing interna- tional interests.’ The orly element in the city which was frankly in favor of the revolutionary leader was‘that of the lackalls, who welcomed in him their savior. It is needless to remark that their expectations were as wild as their demands. Meanwhile their condition was desperate. Hunger and disease were mak- ing havoc among them, and if they could only be sufficiently exasperated by the continuance of these hardships, it was on the cards that they, too, might be converted into open enemies. That at any rate was believed by General Obreg6n and his staff to be at once the hope and the aim of the reactionaries, and certain acts of theirs which may or may not have been inspired by this desire-for they are known to recur in all places and times in such crises—lent color to the suspicion. Obregén himself alludes to this matter as follows: “From the moment when I first occupied the City of Mexico I became aware of the prevalence of a marked hostility toward the Constitutionalist army on the part of the clergy, the big houses of commerce, bankers, wealthy industrials and the bulk THE SATURDAY of foreigners. This hostility assumed the form of opposition to the execution of the measures emanating from headquarters or communicated by myself in concert with the chief of the Constitutionalist Army. I sincerely believe that this opposition, at any rate in most cases, was less the out- come of conviction than of expediency, for the elements in question could not get it into their heads that our army, so reduced in numbers and so lacking in munitions, would be able to withstand the hosts of Villa and Zapata, which they had seen mare hing past in the capital. “Those forces were five times more numerous than ours. It was therefore nat- ural to assume that our army would shortly be wiped out; that Villa, the in- vincible warrior and Angeles, the brand- new military chief, would—after having annihilated us—treat the citizens who had given in to us with more or less rigor. Con- sequently the main object of the latter in striking out this line of conduct toward us was to further their own interests. “Mexico City was in an alarming state of misery. All primary necessaries were in the hands of men who accumulated and concealed them, and the public was the victim of this immoral monopolization.” Some Critical Days This distress was intensified by a meas- ure which Carranza and Obregén decided to take, and which was practiced consist- ently by both sides in the civil war. All the paper money—and it amounted to an enor- mous sum—issued by the government of the convention and by Villa was declared worthless on the ground that it would be a crushing burden to the nation. The conse- quences of this repudiation to the hapless individuals whose worldly wealth was repre- sented by these notes can better be imag- ined than described. Obreg6n sought to alleviate the wretchedness of the popula- tion by creating a committee of public assistance, to which he donated half a mil- lion pesos—about two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. “The attacks of the enemy,” he writes, “now became general. Our ammunition was being consumed in greater quantities than we had the means to renew. Hunger had its grip on our poor classes; and in concert with these misfortunes the priv- ileged castes—as I call them sarcastically in my work, though their proper appella- tive should be accursed castes — headed by the clergy and antagonistic to the revolu- tion, raised prices, concealed necessaries of life and spread rumors of an alarming char- acter about Villa’s approach with vast bodies of troops to seize the capital and nullify, on triumphing, our paper money. The profiteers thereupon closed their doors to the retail trade, and the streets began to be filled with large groups of hungry hu- mans, whose pinched faces bore marks of protracted fasting. Most of the foreigners had recourse to their diplomatic repre- sentatives, to whom they complained of the situation which they had not raised a finger to alleviate, whereupon all the maledic- tions of the people I have described were showered on my head. General Obregén stood forth in the eyes of those folk in the guise of a monster of evil, a monster of her- esy and a monster of untamable ferocity. “Thus the hour was striking when I had to choose between two alternatives— to withstand all the enemies of the revolution, or yielding to the pressure of those perverse influences to confess myself beaten. The former a thousand times sooner than the latter, was my decision. And in the depths of my conscience I swore by my honor as a man to fling down the glove and deal with those enemies as their attitude merited. After that I deemed it indispensable to adopt measures so radically energetic that they would leave no doubt as to my de- termination to tread under foot all their material interests, all their influence and all their pressure in defense of the dignity of our cause and of the moral interests for which we stood.” Such is General Obregén’s own defense. It speaks for itself. Enemies as well friends will draw from it proofs of their re- spective theories. The disinterested his- torian will set it down as a confession and an excuse—and that is the best the biog- rapher can say of it. That the measures framed by the genera! were in truth radically drastic will not be denied. There is no question that the clergy were treated with unnecessary and I fear — unjustifiable harshness, and there is EVENING POST little question that the well-to-do classes saw not only their material interests trod- den under foot, but in some cases their per- sons subjected to treatment which even the rigors of a civil war could hardly justify. A contribution of half a million pesos was imposed on the ecclesiastical body, one hundred and eighty of whom were taken prisoners and compelled later on, in conse- quence of their refusal to pay the contribu- tion, to march to Vera Cruz with the forces when these evacuated the city. Heavy contributions were also levied on the moneyed classes in the shapes of a tax on capital, a tax on mortgages, a tax on im- movable property, a tax on trades and pro- fessions, and so on. And as the money was not forthcoming by the time Obregén evacu- ated the city, the arrested merchants were likewise condemned to accompany the troops to Vera Cruz, whereupon they paid their respective quotas and were set at liberty. As foreigners were included among the classes mulcted by Obregén in Mexico City, their diplomatic representatives were up and doing. The Government of the United States, as one of the most closely interested, took prompt cognizance of the complaint of its citizens, though foreigners had meanwhile been exempted from the contributions; and it addressed a sharp note through the Brazilian legation to the general informing him that his public ut- terances tended to “incite the populace to commit outrages in which innocent foreign- ers . . . could be involved. Whena factional leader plays upon astarving city to compel obedience to his decrees by inciting outrages, and at the same time uses means to prevent the city from being supplied with food, a situation is created which it is impos- sible for the United States to contemplate longer with patience. . The Govern- ment of the United States therefore desires Generals Obregon and Carranza to know that it will hold General Obregén General Carranza personally responsi- le, . The General’s Answer Obreg6n's anwer was to the effect that the note received being of an international nature, it lay outside his functions to an- swer it, but that he would refer it to Gen- eral Carranza, who would doubtless take due cognizance of its contents. At the same time he addressed a telegram to Carranza denying specifically and emphatically the charges preferred against him in the United States note, and censuring the atti- tude of the majority of the foreigners and well-to-do Mexicans as unworthy of human beings. Among the speciiic charges made against Obregén is the sacking of the Church of Santa Brigida by the mob while he was in command of the city; and also that when in the capital, to the soldiers who com- plained that they had nothing to eat, he had said, pointing in the direction of the shops: ‘What? Nothing to eat with the shops full of provisions? Be off and eat your fill!’’ The accusation is a priori most un likely, for it runs counter to his known maxims. He himself denies it credibly and with emphasis. ““What,”’ he asked me, “‘would have be- come of army discipline if I had ordered or even allowed my troops to run thus amuck? What I did was simple. I had the necessary provisions collected in an orderly way and distributed to my troops. Any man caught plundering would be made a deterrent ex- ample of for his comrades.” I possess documentary evidence of Obre- gon’s real attitude on this subject, and it tallies with his telegram to Carranza. He issued and had posted upon the city walls the following order regulating the behavior of his troops: ‘‘ With a view to the effica- cious maintenance of public order, on the occupation of Mexico City by the forces under my command, I hereby ordain: That anyone who shall attempt to disturb the public order by outrages, rob- bery or other criminal acts will be shot without any procedure other than the identification of the delinquent. 2. The same punishment will be in- flicted on that chief or officer who, swerv- ing from the line of duty, shall permit his subalterns to commit unlawful acts of any kind whatever. “3. As these headquarters are disposed to offer every kind of security and guaran- ties, all persons who have grounds for com- plaint are hereby requested to lay them 10! before headquarters immediately after the commission of the act complained of. “4. The sale of alcoholic liquors is ab- solutely forbidden so long as headquarters deem it necessary. Therefore taverns and liquor shops must remain closed to the public until further orders.” Those were real deterrents, not mere threats to be set aside in favor of this man or that, and every officer knew it. That document, it may be objected, is at most proof of good intentions and of the drastic measures devised to carry them out; but it leaves the question whether those meas- ures were effective to be settled by the bai- ance of evidence —and there is force in the objection. It is obvious and worth remem- bering, however, that in revolutionary epochs when the success of a cause and the life of a leader are trembling in the scales and both depend upon the energy and dar- ing of that leader it is vain to expect him to deal out blows by measure, and it would be unfair to judge his excesses by the canons of normal times. How Great Leaders Develop The process of weeding out, which was continuous and never superfluous, appears to have had good results, enabling the author to rally round him a nucleus of loyal, resolute and conscientious officers. I am personally acquainted with many of these, and the impression which some of them made upon me was wholly different from that which the average Mexican gen- eral produces. What struck me about them is their sense of responsibility and their eagerness to carry out the general’s orders in the spirit as well as in the letter, They may not be paragons of intelligence, but one and all they have been trained to look upon themselves as organs and as such to obey their head. Obreg6n, like the great Russian statesman, Count Witte, is accus- tomed on critical occasions to listen atten- tively to the views of his subordinates as to the course of action to be pursued. But once his decision is taken, whether or no their opinions have been discussed or even heard, it must be followed at all costs. To swerve deliberately from the line traced by the chief was in war time to merit death, and would in peace be to forfejt his confi- dence. This discipline, which is indispensable in war, may well continue to be necessary dur- ing the period of reconstruction that will follow it. The intellectual relation between the reformer and his aids will not be sensi- bly different from that between the general and the members of his staff. Of all the men likely to be called in to work together with him, the president is the only one gifted with true political vision and ca- pable of taking a firm-handed grasp of fast- changing positions. Moreover the temper of the man will not brook vacillation, di- vided counsels or half-hearted action. It is not in his nature to content himself with being the symbol and rallying center of a movement which he possesses the capacity and recognizes the duty to control; and this te mper of the new president is one of Mexico's strongest grounds for hope In the rapid survey of the life of a great revolutionary chief, to attempt to appor- tion blame and censure is a task at once unenviable and fruitless. Every real leader of men whose personality is a living force has undergone a constant change from worse to better, learning and unlearning; and as he goes, widening his vision, deepen- ing his feeling for human progress, focusing more and more of the hopes and aspirations of his countrymen and adjusting with in- creasing nicety his own conceptions to the general tendencies of the age. To set forth the various stages in this process and to describe the central facts in his life story which reveal his feelings for the course of human advancement and his concrete rela- tions toward his country and the world is the task of the biographer. That such a leader and kneader of men, who has become a powerful agency in his coun- try and his epoch, should occasionally fail to keep the balance, even between im- pulse and reason, promise and achieve- ment, is natural and inevitable. Moreover the defects of unusual strength invariably transcend those of cautious mediocrity. In any case it is idle to dwell on shortcomings and to disparage positive achievements be- cause the social faith of the man to whose credit they stand did not always remove mountains. The reader, if in want of moral labels, can devise them to suit himself,

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SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20, 1920 | EMORY sometimes swings back to days when the automobile was nothing but ‘“‘another crazy idea’’. When the few who took it seriously were objects of the misplaced sympathy of friends, and of unfriendly comment by the general public. When the legal rate of speed in many big cities was not to exceed seven miles an hour. When the man whose horse ran away at the sight of a horseless carriage always had the jury with him. Those early days mean something to us now because to believe in the future of the automobile meant a great deal then. To point a business in a new direction, seaward without a compass, took something more than courage and resource. It took the same vision, the same purpose, that were actuating those who were spending their days in the shop and their nights at the drawing board, producing the very beginnings of a new kind of transportation. It took faith! _ It took red-blooded, he-man faith! During the last score of years the automobile industry has made a place for itself from which it can never be dislodged. It has done something more than develop a new mechanism to serve con- TIMKEN

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venience, or whim. Jt has produced a new and fundamental transportation method, whether for people or things. It has made a daily contribution to the health and welfare of every person who lives in the civilized world. It has made Better Service between men, and ‘ between peoples, a fact instead of a theory. It has ii justified the faith of those who saw in it an agency that would realize the dream of a Railway Without Rails. The reliable passenger car and truck builders, and every manufacturer who produces good equipment for their completion, are in the same business as the railroads. It has taken hard work, a lot of it unseen ‘ and unsung, to put them there. Most of those who ’ took off their coats in the early days have never had time to put them on again. The demand has been insistent for automotive transportation that should be increasingly better and more reliable. Each unit of the industry has had to organize for service. Engineering has made tremendous strides. Production methods have evolved that are the wonder even of those intimately concerned with them. Every day has meant twenty-four hours of progress. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 103 Now comes a further development of the funda mental idea, which will make possible machine methods, and larger harvests, on every acre of farm land, cultivated and uncultivated, in the world today. The opportunity for service which lies before the tractor industry is as magnificent as any American business has ever faced. It seems a long way back to the days when most people were saying, ‘‘the automobile will never work”’. But we remember when faith in our product was all we had with which to anticipate the refined, fast-moving, powerful motor vehicle. Manufacturers of automobile, truck, and tractoi have already surmounted their gravest difficulties. Commerce and industry, and the individual, recog- nize that the usefulness of the self-propelled vehicle has established it as a utility, and as an essential. The world can no longer get along without it. Faith today is founded on fact! THE TIMKEN ROLLER BEARING COMPANY, Canton, O. Plants manufacturing mf hearing ww Canton, O.; Columbus, O.; Birmingham, Eng.; Paris, France Lv 4 General Offices, Steel, Rolling, and Tube Mills, Canton, O Timken Tapered Roller Bearings for Passenger Cars, Trucks, Trailers, Tractors, Farm Implements, Machinery, and Industrial Appliances BEARINGS

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104 after having seen off their prisoners, of their exploit for of finding out whether also a couple of sailors their comrades carry returned to the scene the purpose evidently some loot could not be secured from the rooms of the presumably wealthy bourgeois They had no difficulty in invading our apartment, the servant having neglected to lock the entrance door before running awa) by the back stairs; and presently I found myself confronted by one of the band, who entered my room with a drawn sword, but looked 80 silly and sheepish that | laugh ingly asked him whether he had really come to cut my throat Whereupon he respectfully said that he had come to look for concealed arms, and when I had shown him that there were none hidden under my bed he discreetly withdrew In the meantime the others had begun to search the rooms vacated by their occu pants, opening their wardrobes, drawers and boxes and appropriating such small articles as struck their fancy. These pro- ceedings occupied considerable time, amid much boisterous shouting and ap- parent quarreling. Curiosity made me go to see what was going on. I went out into the corridor and looked into the room of my left-hand neighbor, a brilliant young cavalry officer, and there I found two sol- diers, one of whom was in the act of putting on my young friend’s magnifi | cent regulation boots, hav | ing thrown into a corner his own dirty footwear My appearance in the cor ridor attracted the other invaders, and one of them, who seemed to be their leader, told me in a gruff and threatening tone that their orders were to arrest me as well, and that I noise, had better make ready te accompany them to the Duma Seeing that in the pres- ence of superior force pro testing would be useless, | began with some deliber ation to get into my fur coat, when one of the soldiers approached me from behind and whis pered inmyear: “That's all right, don't be in a hurry.’ There evidently wer divided counsel and somewhat reassured as to immediate fate, I re my turned to my room, took off my fur coat and sat down in my favorite cor ner in the expectation of further developme nts It so happened that my right-hand neighbor had a few days before removed from his room a_ bulky trunk and had it placed in the corridor between the doors to our rooms. The marauders had procured an ax and had begun ham mering away at the top of the trunk, when insti: tive indignation moved me to interfere According] into the corridor the men, in as authoritative a manner as I thought | might assume, that the trunk they were trying to open belonged to a foreign prince, a near r ative of one of our Allied sovereigns, and that they had better re his property The y responde od threatening s — : I went out and told calml spect at least by Get out of here! This is none of your business!” | had to retire with as good grace as I could muster, but I had barely reached my favorite corner again when | heard one of the soldiers shouting at THE SATURDAY EVENING POST FF ORTY YEARS OF A DIPLOMAT’S LIFE (Continued from Page 18) indignation: “For shame! This is a polit- ical action, and you behave like a lot of scoundrelly bandits!"’ However, my incautiously attempted in- terference had excited the ire of the ma- rauders. After some noisy and rather violent dis- cussion, the echo of which reached me in my retreat, the whole crowd rushed into my room, led by a particularly villainous- looking individual, and I realized that things had begun to look decidedly blue for me, when suddenly a_ distinguished-looking young man in a reserve officer’s uniform appeared in the doorway and, the soldiers having instinctively subsided into silence in the presence of a superior, asked me who I was. Upon being told, he at once declared that he knew and respected my name, that I need not be arrested, and that he would be personally responsible for me. A violent altercation ensued, the leader of the crowd behaving with the utmost in- solence and insisting on carrying me off to the Duma. But the majority of the sol- diers sided with the officer, and he suc- ceeded at last in causing them to depart, having shown them a certificate which he then and there had made out on a sheet of my letter paper and signed in their pres- ence. This curious document, which I have the others in a voice be- tokening evidently sincere PYRIGHT BY UNDERW @ UNDEWOOD, NIWw YORK CITy preserved as a memento of those troubled days, runs as follows: “March first—that is to say fourteenth, new style—1917. “By order of the Provisional Govern- ment, the Yacht Club, as well as the room occupied by Baron Rosen in the building, having been searched and no arms having been found, Baron Rosen is allowed to re- main in his room. “Patrol of the Armored Cars. (Signed) LIEUTENANT DEKHTIAREFF.” My young benefactor, who was a student of the University of Petrograd, then ex- plained that the military commission of the Duma had sent him in an armored car with a couple of men to verify whether in our part of the town the search for arms by the soldiers was being effected in an or- derly way; that in passing he had noticed that a crowd had collected in front of the clubhouse; and that, suspecting something to be happening in the house, he had stopped his car, run upstairs and arrived just in the nick of time to save me from being arrested and carried off by my tor- mentors. I wonder if this young man has escaped the cruel fate that has overtaken so many thousands of deserving people of his class. Reserve Division of ae iT) ‘Teeeeee Moscow Under the Otd Imperial Régime November 20, i920 If he has been spared to live a life of honor and usefulness to the country and the na- tion, and if these lines should ever meet his eyes, I beg he will believe that his timely intervention at a critical moment will always be remembered with profound grati- tude by their author. Late in the evening of the same day, the third day of the revolution, we inhabitants of the club chambers were destined to meet with another and this time less alarming experience. We were quietly, over tea and cigars, exchanging our impressions on the events of the day, when there was a furious knocking at the door, and our servant, in great alarm, evidently under the im- pression of the afternoon’s invasion, rushed in to inquire what he was todo. He was, of course, ordered to open the door imme- diately, and we all went out into the corri- dor to see what was going to happen. When the door opened we beheld a rather surprising sight—two burly soldiers with rifles and bayonets, led by what at first sight appeared to be a young woman dis- guised in male attire awkwardly handling a large army revolver. The young woman, however, turned out to be a very nice and well-bred boy of fifteen or sixteen, who in the most polite language explained that he had been sent by the Duma Commission on Military Affairs, in charge of a dozen men in a motor lorry, to search for and to collect arms of every kind that might be found in private houses and apartments in our part of the town; that they had not yet finished their task, which was to be taken up again the fol- lowing morning; and he asked whether we would consent to put him and his soldiers up for the night on the premises of the club. Under the circum- stances the best we could dowas to comply with this request, and we sent for the steward of the club, who declared his willing- ness to let our unexpected guests occupy for the night the bowling alley, and even to have some supper prepared for them. The following morning I went downstairs to see how things were going on, and found that the soldiers had been behaving them- selves with propriety, and though quite innocent of any show of military dis- cipline, they seemed to acquiesce in the unpreten- tious leadership of the boy who had been placed at their head and whom they addressed as comrade “Tovaristch” in Russian. Taking aside the young- ster, I asked him how it had come about that he, a mere boy, had been placed in charge of these men, every one of them old enough to have been his father. This is what he told me: When it had been de- cided —evidently under strong pressure, or rather oS by command of the soviet — to disarm the pop- ulation, the Duma Com- mission on Military Affairs had taken steps to send out all over the town groups of soldiers in motor lorries for the purpose of searching for and confis- cating arms found in pri- vate dwellings. Being afraid, however, of intrust- ing this task to an uncon- trolled soldiery, and as there were no officers available, many of them having been murdered by their soldiers on the very first day of the revolution and the rest having been disarmed by its order, or (Continued on Page 108)

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST worry Cay U tam P ANGELUS: dia BOL 3% MARSHMALLOWS | SEND FOR BOOKLET By JANET McKENZIE HILL Make It Easy For Yourself. BY USING ale Goll) am Gh iodel—la FLUFFY AND LIGHT AS A FEATHER- i ee. we Oe Oe - RUECKHEIM BROS. & ECKSTEIN Chicago Cracker Jack and Candy Makers Brooklyn

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 _— oe st, Et tects T will be well worth your while to phone the : nearest Burroughs representative and let Sn eee) him show you how Burroughs Bookkeeping y Machines and Burroughs Calculators can be : ® adapted to the stock-keeping requirements of your business, be it large or small, in such a way as to provide you with stock records as accurate, up-to-the-minute and economical as those of the Cadillac Motor Car Company. - amy ° FR The A B C of Business . Burroughs Machines fall broadly into three ‘Aes groups, Adding, Bookkeeping and Calculating, , with models adapted to every kind and size . of business. ae An interesting and more detailed description , of the Cadillac Stock-Keeping System, as handled on Burroughs Machines, can be ob- tained upon request to the Burroughs Adding Machine Company, Detroit, Mich. ————EE iT | Sa # f. ’ Cadillac didn't have to guess at the value of stock on these shelves the day before the fire. Their Burroughs stock records showed it. ADDING ~ BOOK KEEPING ~ CALCULATING A-B-C

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~ THE SATURDAY EVENING POST When the Adjuster Asked N CHRISTMAS DAY, 1919, a Thursday, on of the stock-storage buildings of the Cadillac Motor Car Company was destroyed by fire. On the following Monday, the Cadillac Motor Car Company had an exact statement of the money value of the tools and supplies lost, taken direct from perpetual stock records posted on Burroughs Book- keeping Machines. Adjustment of the loss was immediate and satis- factory. Orders for replacing the lost stock could be issued at once, and thus delay in getting back on the job was minimized. On the other hand, considerable delay was ex- perienced in making up a proof of loss in the case of certain equipment covered by pen-and-ink stock records, and the adjustment was not so easily ef- fected. The contrast in the two methods is obvious. But full fire-loss coverage is only one item among Here are some of the Burroughs Max hine sin operation the benefits of Burroughs stock records. For ex- ample The machines make no mistakes in figuring. They do not post items to the wrong side of the account. Che records are always up-to-dat With Burroughs Bookkeeping Machines ledger clerks do nothing but post. Their work is proved correct by another group of clerks with Burroughs Calculators. These machines are also used to figure the extensions in reducing quantity items to money value. Burroughs Machines, used in’ connection with Cadillac's stock-keeping system, saved approximately $6,000 a year in their operating speed and made possible a consolidation of work that released five posting clerks for other duties. Cadillac knows, at any moment, what is on hand both in number of units and in money value; what ts being used and where; what is on order. keeping ¢ wlillae’s stock records correct ind up-to-the mute 107 Knew to a Cent MACHINES FOR EVERY BUSINESS Burroughs

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108 (Continued from Page 104) being in hiding, the commission had applied to the university and to the higher schools, calling upon volunteers among their pupils who woud be willing to take charge of the groups of soldiers to be sent out. Our young friend, being a pupil of the Petrograd Com- mercial College, Pad volunteered for this service, and had not so far experienced any difficulty with the men of his command. I have dwelt at such length on the ap- parently immaterial details of these occur- rences because they shed much light not only on the general mentality of the Rus- sian peasant soldiers, which so strangely combined truly Sadic lust of murder and torture applied to their regular officers with good-natured acquiescence in the occasional leadership of mere university students and even school boys, but also on their state of mind in the initial stages of the revolution, when they were still dazed and bewildered by the unexpected results they had them- selves achieved, and were not yet awake to the consciousness of having entirely at their mercy the capital of the empire—nay, the empire itself and more particularly the bitterly hated educated classes, whom they held responsible for the war and the misery of its indefinite prolongation. This consciousness was to come to them later and was to be skillfully and ruthlessly ex- ploited by the sanguinary bandits and demented fanatics of Bolshevism, for the purpose of seizing power over a helplessly unresisting nation, which they proceeded to enslave by a régime of terrorism such as the world had never yet seen, reducing the Russian people to a state of deepest abase- ment and irretrievable ruin. A few days after the above described happenings I had occasion to visit the so- called Palais Marie, the home of what had been the Council of the Empire, and found the beautiful vestibule of the palace occu- pied by a most disreputable-looking lot of some twenty to thirty soldiers, who were lounging on benches and chairs they had brought in, and who presented a lamen- table spectacle of revolutionary sans géne and contempt for discipline. An official of the Chancellery of the Council, where I had some business to transact, told me that the palace had been occupied by the sol- diery in the beginning of the revolution, presumably for the same reason that prompted them to invade the Duma; that so far they had not done any serious dam- age to the state apartments and the hall of sittings on the main floor of the building; that it had not been possible as yet to get rid of their unwelcome presence, but that nevertheless the members of the provi- sional government were using the state apartments for their meetings; and lastly that at that very moment they were as- sembled there for the purpose of receiving the representative of a foreign power who was to announce to them their recognition by his government. I could not help reflecting with profound humiliation on the thoughts which would be bound to cross the mind of that dis- tinguished foreigner, however friendly dis- poses, at the sight of such a disorderly »xand of armed men, which by no stretch of the imagination could be taken for a guard to give military honors to an ambassador. It would seem difficult to explain how it was possible that in the presence of similar evidences — and there were many and more serious ones-—-of the provisional govern- ment’s helpless inability to maintain even an outward show of really controlling the situation Allied diplomacy could have ac- claimed that shadowy government with favor and could have based optimistic ex- pectations on its advent. The shrewdly observant, sharp-witted and level-headed wife of a naval attaché to the American Embassy, in her recently published Inti- mate Letters From Petrograd, written in 1917 and 1918, has expressed her perplexity in this regard in the following somewhat cruel terms: “T have determined upon a new defini- tion of optimism in Russia: An optimist is an alleged diplomat who is willfully blind.” The reproach of willful blindness, fully merited by Allied diplomacy in the sequel of events when it played such a sinister part in shaping the destiny of our unfortu- nate country, could hardly be applied to the illusions entertained at first, inasmuch as these illusions were shared not only by those political circles from which that diplomacy was wont to derive its informa- tion on Russian affairs, but also, indeed, by the majority of the educated classes in the country. After the lamentable collapse of THE SATURDAY the last government of incapables under the imperial régime, the advent to what was supposed would be real power of a provisional government, composed with one exception of leaders of the moderate conservative and liberal parties, all men of yroved ability in various walks of life, of high character and unquestioned integrity, was hailed by public opinion with un- feigned satisfaction and even enthusiasm. Their fatal lack of backbone, manifested in their acceptance as a fellow member in their government of Kerensky, the leader of one of the revolutionary parties whose aim was—and always had been—the de- struction of the empire for the purpose of clearing the ground for the advent of their socialistic millennium, was not at once real- ized in its inevitable bearing on the future development of events. Nor was their failure to understand the underlying mean- ing of the revolutionary outbreak and to gauge aright the real feelings of-the im- mense bulk of the nation comprehended as what it really was—a total lack of that true statesmanship which places the satisfac- tion of the crying needs of the people above the gratification of personal ambitions and of the aims of party policies. Moreover, they were handicapped not only by their inexperience in statecraft, for which no blame could be attached to them, since they had never been given an opportunity to participate in the handling of affairs of state, but also by their inexperience in dealing with the complicated mechanism of the huge bureaucratic machine. This ma- chine continued indeed to function by that force of inertia which keeps all institutions running for some time after the guiding power is gone. But it was bound to and did break down very soon, leaving the country in a state of complete anarchy. Among my personal adventures of the first days of the revolution was one which I have not yet mentioned. It was on the day following my attempted arrest by some soldiers that I was sent for by # pro- visional government and requested to ac- cept the post of governor-general of Finland, where my name enjoyed some popularity on account of the position I had taken up in the Council of the Empire in defense of the constitutional rights of the Finnish people. I told the member of the Duma who approached me on the subject in the name of the provisional government that I held it to be the duty of every good citizen to place his services unreservedly at the disposal of that government which evi- dently stood between the country and promen as the only hope of the reéstablish- ment of law and order, and that therefore I unhesitatingly agreed to undertake the task it was proposed to intrust to me. At the same time I pointed out to him the very serious misgivings I felt as to the possibility of a successful accomplishment of such a mission—not, of course, on ac- count of any difficulties to be encountered on the part of the Finnish population, which after the complete restoration of the Fin- nish constitution immediately conceded by the provisional government would, I felt sure, prove entirely loyal; but on account of the manifest unruly disposition prevail- ing among our soldiery stationed in Fin- land, and especially among the crews of the numerous vessels of the fleet wintering in the harbor of Helsingfors, of the existence of which I had had occasion to convince myself by personal observation in my fre- quent visits to the Finnish capital, where my family had found a temporary home since the autumn of 1915. I must say here that if this offer had come to me before the war I would have accepted with real enthusiasm the task of being the instrument of reconciliation between the empire and the grand duchy on the basis of the unreserved recognition and the full- est restitution of the constitutional rights of Finland, because of my profound con- viction that such a_ reconciliation was imperatively demanded by every considera- tion of sound statesmanship, and was of the utmost importance to Russia no less than to Finland. I will say also that I was perfectly sin- cere in my immediate acceptance of the offer made to me, evidently on the spur of the moment, on behalf of the revolutionary provisional government and emanating yresumably from some of its more really iberal-minded members. But knowing the mentality prevailing not only in our bu- reaucratic circles, but generally speaking in the world of our political intelligentzia, priding itself upon its freedom from bu- reaucratic prejudices and pettinesses, I had EVENING POST not a moment’s doubt that nothing would come of it after all. Indeed, that same evening I was called up on the telephone by a friend of mine, who told me that one of the leaders of the Cadet Party—Constitutional Democratic Party —who was with him at the time, and who, though not personally acquainted with me, was atly in favor of my ap- pointment to the post of governor-general of Finland, had come to ask him to ascer- tain from me whether it was true that I had written a letter to the former Emperor advising the conclusion of a separate peace with Germany, the point having been raised in the party council by someone opposed to my appointment. I — that I had never written any letter to the Emperor, and that if I had done so I would certainly not have advocated the conclusion of a separate peace with Germany. This story of a letter supposed to have been written by me to the Emperor could only have related to the paper mentioned in a preceding chapter, of which I had handed a copy to the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Sazonoff, and which, as the reader will remember, did not contain even an allusion to the conclusion of such a peace, let alone the tender of an advice to that effect. A couple of days later, as I expected from the first, I was informed that my proposed appointment had been canceled, the mem- ber of the Duma who had approached me on behalf of the provisional government explaining in his letter to me that, on sec- ond thought, the question had once more been discussed in the Council of Ministers and that the majority of the members of the government had concluded that at such a time the appointment to the post of governor-general of Finland of a person bearing a not entirely Russian name would be undesirable. I must own that this decision of the gov- ernment, far from causing me any disap- pointment, gave me a feeling of profound relief, because I was entirely convinced that the position, which as a matter of patriotic duty I had consented to fill, would in the nearest future become absolutely untenable, since the revolution in Russia was bound to have its counterpart in Finland. At first the Russian revolution was hailed by the ruling classes in Finland with some apparent satisfaction, not perhaps unmixed with serious apprehensions as to future de- velopments, because it meant the end of the oppressive régime unconstitutionally maintained by the Russian bureaucracy and the complete restoration of the coun- try’s autonomy and constitution, at once unreservedly conceded by the provisional government. At any rate, when I had oc- casion to visit Helsingfors in the second week of the revolution I was struck by the sight of quite a large number of Russian national flags, which since the days of the extremely popular Emperor and Grand Duke Alexander II had not been seen flying in Finland’s capital, except from the governor-general’s palace—a sight as grati- fying as it was humiliating to a Russian fresh from the contemplation of the shame- ful spectacle offered by his own country's capital, where the national colors were no longer tolerated and where from thousands of houses was seen flying the sinister red flag of socialism—emblem of bloodshed and revolution. In order to understand the attitude of the Finnish—or rather Finlandish—bour- geoisie, since it was composed of both na- tionalities, Swedish as well as Finnish, with a preponderancesof the former, one must keep in mind that Finland's connection with the Russian state—geographically natural—had been economically of the greatest advantage to the country, to whose trade and industry it had opened unre- strictedly a market of unlimited capacity in the immense extent of its Russian hinter- land, and had never been felt as a hardship under the wise and liberal rule of the first per Grand Dukes Alexander I, Nicholas I and Alexander II. Finnish sep- aratism, whose birth and growth the Rus- sian bureaucracy’s oppressive policy was supposed to prevent pr to counteract, really been the direct outcome of that very policy with whose passing the main com- lling motive for aiming at separation rom Russia had ceased to exist. It was, of course, not te be wondered at that the Finnish socialists should have welcomed the Russian revolution as ‘a powerful aid in realizing their aim at bring- ing about a revolution in their own coun- try. It was, indeed, not long before our November 20,1920 mutinous soldiers and sailors, who had at once organized soviets on the most ap- proved pattern and had been freely mur- dering and often cruelly torturing their officers, had concluded an alliance with the Finnish socialist red guards—an alliance which, after the withdrawal from Finland of most of the Russian troops, led to, or rather was followed by, the outbreak of civil war between the Finnish red guards, assisted by Russian revolutionary ele- ments, and Finnish white guards composed of volunteers drawn from the bourgeoisie, at first with the aid—soon withdrawn— of some German troops who had been landed in Finland, and later with the coéperation of a brigade of Swedish volunteers. Finland's bourgeoisie—to its great credit and honor, be it said—had found in its own midst the courage, the resources and the energy not only to resist the onslaught of revolutionary socialism, but—with very little external aid—to defeat it and to save the country from the fate that has over- taken unfortunate Russia. Foreseeing the impending outbreak of revolution and civil war in Finland, I had in time caused my family to move from Helsingfors to Petrograd, where they found in one of the few still-open hotels a precarious shelter, open tosudden nocturnal invasions and searches for arms by the revolutionary soldiery; and where they remained until in May, 1918, it became possible for us to escape from the socialistic ~~ and the doomed capital of what ad been the Russian Empire. To those of my readers who might wish to form a vivid idea of what life in a town cursed with a state of revolution really is like I can do no better than recommend the perusal of Mrs. Pauline S. Crosley’s fascinatingly interesting volume, Intimate Letters From Petrograd, of which its pub- lisher, in his commendatory epitome printed on the wrapper, justly says: “As a record of personal observation of one of the stu- pendous events in history, it is remarkable for its unbiased opinions and penetrating judgment of the political situation quite as much as for its stirringly realistic accounts of the chaotic condition of the country. It contains innumerable little graphic touches that help to illuminate the whole huge, incredible series of social and military phenomena.” When the clear-sighted author of these letters regretfully alludes, as mentioned above, to the willful blindness of diplo- macy she is unquestionably right. That this blindness was indeed willful is amply age by the fact that it was not shared y independent observers—such, for in- stance, as E. H. Wilcox in his Russia’s Ruin or Oliver M. Sayler in his Russia White or Red—independent both of diplomacy and of organized war + gery that newest, perhaps least creditable, and in its influence on the public mind most pernicious devel- opment of the art of warfare, which in all belligerent countries without exception has been ministering to the service of the sin- ister god of war by the systematic spreading of lies, concealment of the truth and preaching of the gospel of hatred and re- venge. And yet even they, though fully recognizing the unwillingness of the Rus- sian people to stay any longer in the fight, seem to have been sufficiently under the spell of the all-pervading war psychosis to believe that this unwillingness could be due to really well-grounded suspicions, suppos- edly entertained by the people and the army of treachery in court, or bureaucratic or even military circles, and to the effect of successful German propaganda—such be- lief being apparently strengthened by the reckless vaporings of Russian war patriots, unconscious of its implied contempt for the Russian people no less than for its former rulers. The fact of the blindness displayed by our Allies in their policy in regard to Rus- sia, before as well as after the revolution, is, of course, undeniable, since the outcome of this policy is there to prove it—an out- come as catastrophically fatal to Russia as it must in the end prove disadvantageous to our former Allies themselves, and which therefore could not possibly have been de- liberately aimed at by them. However, to attribute the blindness of their policy to mere willfulness would be neither satisfac- tory as an explanation, nor would it be fair to the statesmen who devised and con- ducted it in what they believed to be the best interest of their countries. Whether this belief has been justified by events they will determine for themselves. Butit stands (Continued on Page 110)

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 109 _ Thursday— NONE SUCH MINCE PIE Day SS

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NONE SUCH ONE Such Mince Pies just naturally fit into Thursday's ‘MINCE MEAT; ’ ri ; ; amman lunch or dinner, ‘There may be one or two big reasons. We ng SBOE 5 zs know there are several smaller ones — all home from school and on = NONE SUCH deck to get a man’s-size slab of Thursday’s None Such Mince Pie. None Such Mince Pie on Thursday is such a widespread institution at American tables that few persons even comment on it. Like Sunday’s ice cream, it’s just accepted, Turkey and None Such Mince Pie for ‘Vhanksgiving, Christ- Ready to use or y ‘ . . ° , ' 5 mas, and New Year’s— None Such Mince Pie and any other good dish every Thursday. Arrangements have been made with bakers, Condensed shal hotels, and restaurants throughout the country to specialize on BAKERS— , 8 | None Such Mince Meat is put up None Such Mince Pies on ‘Thursday. in 5-lb. packages, condensed, and No. 10 tins (7% tbe.) ready for You add no sugar to None Such— the sugar is in it use, for bakers, restaurants, hotels, > > .< wECO AT ai -—— -s , ie greg MERRELL-SOULE COMPANY, Syracuse, N. Y. plan for 1920. NONE SUCH MINCE MEAT, Ltd., Toronto, Canada

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_ Jor comfort For Holiday giving each President is encased in a Christmas box re quality and your and handsome flecting its good judgment good wishes I-very pair guaranteed be sure the name President on the buckle Ma Wr. Dealer: For the Holiday Packing wire your jobber yeur order—now THE SATURDAY (Continued from Page 108) | to reason that their willfulness in deliber- | as provincial, under Prince ately shutting their eyes to conditions which were bound to defeat in the end the very aims of their policy, and which to them no less than to independent observers must have appeared quite evident, could not have had some determining and per- haps even compelling causes. Among these determining causes the first place must be assigned to the attitude of the various governments, imperial as well voff’s presi- | dency, and lastly coalition under Kerensky, | with which they had to deal; and which, all | achieved, of them, in disregard of the country’s trag- ically erying need of peace, of the manifest unwillingness of the people to stay any longer in the fight, and of the resultant gradual voluntary demobilization of the army, which in reality had set in—though care fully concealed—already toward the end of 1916, were constantly assuring and continued to the last moment to assure our Allies of their unshakable determination to continue the war with the greatest en- ergy and vigor until a final victory was Of their earnest desire to do so | there could be no question, though the sin- | cerity of their own belief in their ability to | ailed all these governments they carry through such a policy might well have been doubted Therefore the solemn character of their repeated official assurances, however skep- tically they may have been regarded, fur- nished the Allies, who were bent on the continuation of the war at any cost, with a sufficient and welcome ground for vigor- ouslytinsisting on their realization to the fullest extent. But in exercising such pres- sure by persuasion, flattery, and lastly by comminatory joint representations, they seemed not to realize sufficiently that what were deal- ing with—the imperial government in the last months of its existence no less than its revolutionary successors—was that they were governments only in name, bereft of real power, since the complete disorganiza- tion of the huge bureaucratic machinery and the disintegration of the army whic accompanied the long-drawn-out death throes of the imperial régime had been suc- ceeded by a condition of revolutionary an- archy, gradually growing in intensity and presaging the imminence of the final catas- trophe. They were being swept along help- lessly and semiconsciously on a current of elemental forces whose irresistible nature they failed to realize—a current which they neither commanded the power to stem nor had the wisdom and ability to deflect into the only possible channel of safet I cannot undertake to say whether or not any one of these successive governments, composed all of them of elements swayed by various degrees of conservative, liberal or socialistic octrtanieion, and belonging to the same intelligentzia whose fatal sep- aration from the masses of the people has been the bane of modern Russia since Peter the Great —whether any one of them at any time had political insight enough to com- prehend that under existing circumstances the only government that could ever hope to become a government in fact, wielding the plenitude of power, and not in name merely, would be a government willing to bring to the people what they were clamor- ing for—that is to say, peace in any shape or form. If they possessed such insight they lacked the moral and civic courage to act upon it, thereby working not only their own downfall but the destruction and ruin of the country deliberately abandoned to the tender mercies of those who had both the insight and the determination to trans- late it into action and who were thus en- abled to seize real power which they to this hour exercise with a sanguinary ruthless- ness une madi in the history of the world. It was not unnatural that the Allies should have at first welcomed and treated as Russia's coming and at last real states- men the members of the provisional govern- ment whose advent to power they had—if not aided and abetted, as Dr. E. J. Dillon has it—evidently hoped for and favored. Did not Russian public opinion itself on the whole share this illusion before these men had shown their utter inability to deal with the tragically critical situation in which the country found itself placed through the war and the revolution, an inability due not only to their own incompetence, for which no blame could justly attach to them, since they had never been given an opportunity to acquire the necessary ex- perience by being admitted to a participa- tion in affairs of state, but also to the fact EVENING POST that they never at any time had been really free agents? But it is hardly credible that Allied statesmen could have taken seriously the sinister farce of the dictatorship of that glorified Russian Pooh-Bah, Kerensky, at once dictator, prime minister and supreme commander in chief of the army and of the navy, who by the inspired press in Allied countries was hailed as the greatest states- man of Russia, the coming man and savior of his country. Nor could they have failed to realize that Russia was drawing ever nearer and nearer to a state of anarchy and dissolution, from which nothing could save her but the conclusion of a general peace— an eventuality they were anxious to avoid for reasons that had nothing to do with any altruistic consideration for the welfare of Russia and her people— which, indeed, they were not bound to entertain. But Kerensky and his honest, simple- minded and—like himself —quite inexpe- rienced associates were just the elements that could be made instruments of the policy of the Allies, aiming at the recon- stitution at any cost and maintenance in a state of efficiency of the Russian front, which was palpably melting away, in the mistaken belief in the possibility of such an achievement. Not being minded to await in mute resig- nation the doom of my country, I devoted myself entirely to the thankless task of fighting with word and pen the fatal blind- ness and irresolution which prevented the adoption of the only course compatible with her honor and dignity which could lead to the country’s salvation. I never ceased un- til the very eve of the November revolution, and regardless of the rebuffs I was meeting with, my efforts in seeking to be given a hearing by the men in whose inexperienced hands was placed the fate of our unfortu- nate country. I met with similar treat- ment at the hands of the press, which, following the example of the press in ail belligerent countries, and evidently from the same motives of misunderstood patriot- ism, was suppressing all independent opin- ion which would not minister to the prevail- ing war psychology. Out of a number of articles which I had written as events were rogressing, only the first could be printed in one of the important newspapers, to the readers of which I wished to address my- self. The remaining ones I was finally compelled to print and to issue in pamphlet form under the title Peace, or War at Any Cost, in the hope that in this shape they might reach at least a limited circle of readers. The following quotations from these articles will speak for themselves “The greatest perturbing element in the situation has been the totally erroneous conception of the true meaning and signifi- cance of the Russian revolution formed at first in Allied countries on the basis appar- ently of the dubious attitude of our diplo- macy in regard to the directions given at first to the provisional government by the socialistic leaders of the movement which had actually achieved the overthrow of the autocracy. This erroneous conception was evidently shared in—whether sincerely or not, I would not undertake to say—by those circles with whom the diplomacy of the Allies has been in closer contact and where it has been in the habit of looking for sources of information. The consequences, however, of this fundamental misunder- standing have proved fatal to us. It was the cause of endeavors made from the out- side to exercise a totally inadmissible—as applied to a great power—pressure with a view to induce us to undertake an advance on our front, which, undertaken not for strategic reasons and purposes but from political and partly sentimental motives, after an apparent success at first bought at the cost of an awful loss of invaluable lives of an enormous number of officers who heroically sacrificed themselves for a for- lorn hope, ended—as under existing condi- tions it was bound to end—in disaster and disgrace, played into the hands of Hinden- burg by exposing to him quite openly the theretofore perhaps merely suspected utter demoralization of our army, assured him of the certainty of being able to win new and cheap laurels, brought about the penetra- tion by the enemy of our southwestern and next of our northwestern front, the loss of Riga and the prospect of the possibility of further losses of territory. “But then we were told by way of con- solation that by this advance we had re- deemed our honor in the eyes of our Allies. Well, I must confess, I know of no such honor in the eyes of anybody whomsoever November 20,1920 that could demand of us the sacrifice of our country’s most vital interests. But I do know of a real duty of honor toward our Allies which rose before us with the revolu- tion, and that duty commanded us not to endeavor to conceal the true meaning of the revolution as a protest of the Russian people against the war, but openly to con- fess the unvarnished truth—that the people, under a vague and instinctive conscious- ness of the catastrophic meaning for Russia of the present war, imperatively demand its termination as soon as it may possibly be brought about; and that was the call of duty and of honor we failed to obey. “The most elementary wisdom of states- manship demanded submission to the will of the people instead of attempts to over- ride it, though this will had been expressed in a revolutionary way through the mouth- piece of entirely self-constituted bodies, but nevertheless unmistakably and author- itatively. Russia can never in our coalition voluntarily play a part similar to that of Turkey in the coalition of the Central Powers, the o- of a voiceless provider of an unlimited reserve of human material, the part of the Moor who could some day be told, ‘The Moor has done his duty; the Moor may go!’ “The voice of the Russian people will always have the right to make ftselt heard and would undoubtedly have been listened to by our Allies had we not weakened it ourselves by the dubious attitude of our diplomacy, ‘due, it must be supposed, to a mistaken conception of what Russia’s true interests required, or else to a desire to save the face of the adherents of that policy which has brought down on Russia the catastrophe of this war, has already landed her in such unheard-of abasement and is threatening her with still more somber dis- grace. “No one, certainly, could doubt the capacity of those distinguished and really competent statesmen who direct the policy of our Allies for gauging correctly the situa- tion of affairs here and its inevitable further developments. They cannot but realize fully that the further unavoidable weaken- ing of such an essential link in the chain ~ our coalition as Russia—even if com sated by the United States having joined it—must in a great measure weaken the whole chain, and that therefore political self-interest would have pointed to the ad- visability of ready compiance with the Russian democracy’s invitation to proceed to the settlement of the war by negotiation. But, of course, they could not adopt such a line so long as we ourselves, through the mouth of our diplomacy, assured them and continue to assure them of our determina- tion—in spite of its realization being to all the world an evident impossibility—to carry on the war at any cost until a final victory. “Such a policy, based on groundless il- lusions, concealment of the truth and politi- cal cowardice, can only, by deceiving our Allies, injure incalculably, and has already injured incalculably, the real interests of Russia; and if we were to attempt to put it into practice could only complete the de- struction of the fabric of the state already begun by the ever threateningly rising tide of anarchy. “We have already missed the exclu- sively favorable opportunity for beginning, in accord with our Allies, with joint forces and in our joint interest, to prepare for the termination of the war by way of negotia- tions. The undermining by anarchy of the foundations of the state had then only just begun; the fighting capability of our army and navy had not yet been questioned; our front was still unbroken and presented a threatening force. Our hesitation to enter upon the only path — to us compatible with the honor and dignity of Russia has with every month—nay, with every week— been weakening the position of Russia, has played new trump cards into the hand of the enemy, and is bringing us ever nearer to the moment when this path will be closed to us.”’ In another article dealing with the fatal division of the nation which was so plainly reflected in the attitude of the convention called together in the summer at Moscow I wrote: “What the country requires above all in this hour of her trial is the close and firm union of all her loyal sons. But no such union is possible so long as the masses are under the spell of Utopian doctrines of socialism and the classes are obstinately wedded to the idea of war at any cost, (Concluded on Page 113)

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 111 ' ‘ is as P Ani te . a 7 ee ee ee . ML LONG rH La” f | - | “ee os ves Car ¥ BR ACKER 25 =... Velvet Joe's Class. in Geography j AND now, folks, we come to old Kaintucky. ' Nature has been mighty good to Kaintucky. She gave it a limestone soil that grows some things a little better than they grow anywhar else. And the tobacco she grows — Burley—‘is rich with comfort and content. Just imagine takin’ the delicate, silky leaves of these tobacco plants and letting them mellow two years in wooden hogsheads. Nature already did a lot—but she does a heap more during those two years. She richens them, milds them, makes them mellower. When you get hankerin’ for something worth while in that pipe of yours, just set back and think of Kaintucky—America’s Tobacco Won- derland. That’s whar Velvet came from, and it came through clean and right. Class will now adjourn to prove up with their pipes. F Cmerica’s smoothest Yatvel Jo smoke

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THE ray Viorn How kind Fate took a Hand in the Misfortunes of War back in the days of 64 OR two days the General and his orderly had been cut off from their troops; for two days, so the story goes, they had lain hidden in bushes on the Mississippi's bank. Northern troops were every where, it seemed. No venture could be made by day —even for food. Only at night dared they move. And this was the second night already paling into day. Cautiously through the dark hours they had wormed their perilous way. Once a cracking twig had brought a sentry’s bullet whizzing over their heads. Once a soldier's half concealed cough had saved them from capture, perhaps from death. They made Their own lines could not be many miles away, they thought. With day break would come the noise of a new day’s battle; then they'd know. Me pre wress But daybreak meant stopping —and to stop meant time to think of their hunger One hour more. They decided to go on. Through the gray, heavy fog they groped their way along. Wi AT’S this? A path tothe river. A path from barely could they see it—a cabin. Fate had led them there But whether for good or ill, they could not know Who was in this lonely place? Southerners friends? A small detachment of lawless guerrillas? Or was it forsaken? Dangerously near they hid in And they waited They crept forward the bushes. \ thin wisp of smoke drifted and mud chimney. perhaps. Someone was there. lazily from the crude Perhaps Fate would smile on them again stone “Lawzee! You chilluns pestah th’ life out 0’ yo’ po’ ol’ mammy with yo’ evahlastin’ appetite fo’ a ~ pancakes.” From the cabin came the voice. Good old Southern pancakes — perhaps with a jug o’ ‘lasses to sweeten them! That little cabin became the most desirable place in the world to them then. They ran to the door, opened it, and stood there Aunt Jemima —for she it was, we are told —seemed to guess their story. And the General, as he re- counted his experience some twenty years afterward, said he honestly believed it was that wonderful pan- cake breakfast which put the “power” into him and his orderly to reach their lines the next night. W AS Fate to withdraw her guiding hand? Was this the fulfillment of her plan? No, indeed. Among the legends that have grown up around Aunt Jemima’s name is one that among the men who heard the old veteran tell the story you've just read was a representative of a milling company in the North. What a wonderful thing it would be, he thought, to have that old mammy’s recipe for pancakes! SATURDAY EVENING POST - November 20,1920 “Yo? sho’ did give dem Yanks de slip”’ If Aunt Jemima could only be found! It is said that he did find her still living in her little cabin on the Louisiana bank of the Mississippi; and that, so tempting was his offer, she finally ac- cepted it and sold her famous rec Ipe. "THE Aunt Jemima Pancake Flour you see in the vroceries today is that recipe, ready mixed. Everything’s in it that Aunt Jemima used except the water! That’s all you need add—just water. No eggs; no milk. Whisk up a batch of these cakes tomorrow morning. Fragrant, golden-brown Aunt Jemima Pancakes! Rich, tender and fine flavored! So fast they'll go that you'll wonder if you, too, aren't making them for a man nearly famished. And you'll find hubby as grateful and happy as was the old Confederate General that other morning years and years ago. ~Aunt Jemima Pancakes— today they’re America’s favorite breakfast! Does it not seem that they were destined to be so? If you would add variety to your pancake break- fasts use Aunt Jemima Buckwheat Flour. It, too, is complete; you need add nothing but water. Real buckwheat cakes with butter and syrup—they cer- tainly do taste good these chilly mornings! ‘'I’s in town, Honey!" How to get the Funny Rag Dolls Look on the top of an package of Aunt Jemir Pancake or Aunt Jemima Buckwheat Flour to find out how to get the funny Aunt Jemima Rag Dolls ny Copyright 1920, Aunt Jemima Mills Company, St. Joseph, Missouri

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(Concluded from Page 110) utterly abhorrent to the bulk of the nation and most of all to the soldiery. Still there is a common ground upon which such a union could be achieved, and that is the crying need of peace, a need that cannot but be felt by anyone who has truly at heart, not the saving of his own or this or that party’s political face but the saving of what still can be saved from the wreck of the country’s former greatness and prosperity. “If such a union could have been brought about it would have presented to the world the imposing sight of a great nation rising in ardent and unanimous fervor for the sacred cause of liberty and of peace; it would have increased tenfold the weight of Russia’s voice in the council of nations; and it would have silenced those scornful voices full of contempt for the Russian people, which—be it confessed to our shame—have sometimes found a not un- willing echo in our press and in our society, so disastrously torn by partisan dissensions and passionate hatred. “But it was not to be. The unique op- portunity for opening negotiations with our Allies was neglected at a time when the imposing edifice of the state, though begin- ning already to be undermined by the ris- ing tide of anarchy, wes still standing erect and our strategic front was still unimpaired, and at a time when exhausted and defeated Germany was plainly anxious for peace. I have used the term ‘defeated Germany’ purposely and advisedly. If one stops to consider that of the contending sides the German side is the only one which holds in its armed possession immense extents of enemy territory of the European Continent which might become objects of annexation, as well as grounds for claiming pecuniary contributions in exchange for their sur- render, one must suppose that nothing short of a realizing sense of Germany’s de- feat, irrespective of the actual military situ- ation, could have induced the German Reichstag in its resolution of July nine- teenth to declare itself in favor of a peace without annexations and contributions— if not in these very terms of the Russian de- mocracy’s formula, unquestionably within its meaning—nor could have caused the German Government, in its reply to the note of the Vatican, to announce its wilil- ingness to conform not only to the wishes of His Holiness but likewise to the peace resolution of the Reichstag of July nine- teenth. “It is evident that the German Govern- ment is not in a position to decline to accept any fair and reasonable terms that might be offered them, and it is obviously our duty to begin without the least delay negotia- tion with our Allies with a view to reaching an agreement as to such an expression of the determination of mankind, undoubtedly shared in by all the peoples, to put an end to the World War, as would lead to the initiation of negotiations for the conclusion of a general peace. That my estimate of the situation in Germany was correct I find confirmed in what the Austrian Minister of Foreign Af- fairs, Count Czernin, has to say on the subject in his secret memorandum, pre- sented to his sovereign in the beginning of April, 1917, as published now in the count’s book, In the World War. These are his words: “T am firmly convinced that Germany, too, like ourselves, has reached the limit of her strength, and the responsible political leaders in Berlin do not seek to deny it.”” On the other hand,.G. Lowes Dickinson, in his introduction to the recently published volume, Documents and Statements Re- lating to Peace Proposals and War Aims, says on the subject of the Reichstag’s peace resolution: “This resolution, it will be observed, is on the lines of the Russian proposals—a peace without annexations and without indemnities. But we have Count Czernin’s authority for the statement that the mili- tary rulers in Germany were opposed to any such peace. There was thus a cleavage in Germany between the civilian government and the majority of the representatives of the people on the one hand and the army chiefs, who had the effective power, on the other “Had the Allied governments been willing to consider such a peace as the Russian de- mocracy and the Reichstag were demand- ing, their policy .was clear. They would have expressed their willingness to discuss terms on that basis. Had they done so, it is at least possible that the movement THE SATURDAY for peace in the enemy,countries would have become irresistible and have swept the militarists from power. But as we have seen, the Allied governments were just as much res to such a peace as the Ger- man militarists. The Reichstag resolution, therefore, was treated with contempt by the governments, the parliaments and the press of the Allied nations.’ The Russian bourgeois press was ‘dealing with the question on the same lines, re- flecting evidently the views of the Kerensky government, which by that time had en- tirely fallen under the influence of the policy of continuing the war at any cost. Intending to have my say on the subject, and having found all the organs of the bourgeois — inaccessible to me, nothing remained for me but to try my luck with the socialist paper Novaya Zhisn, to whose editor, Maxim Gorky, I addressed the fol- lowing letter: “Being a most convinced opponent of the Utopian doctrines of socialism, and the more so of any attempts at their applica- tion to our country, I nevertheless venture to appeal to your patriotism and impar- tiality in requesting you to open the columns of your esteemed paper to this letter. I venture to do so because I know that you, as well as I, have set yourself the task of working for the reéstablishment of general peace. “To serve this cause I consider to be the sacred duty of every Russian citizen who has at heart the fate of his country and the saving of what can still be saved from the wreck of her former greatness and pros- perity. “In order to prevent any intentional or unintentional misunderstanding of my posi- tion, I deem it necessary to state here ex- pressly that in using the term ‘general peace’ I do mean a peace reached in com- plete agreement with our Allies, with whom we should have begun aerer more than six months ago, as directed by the democracy who had just overthrown the régime of autocracy, but whose directions have not been obeyed to this hour. “‘I beg you will find room for the follow- ing text of an identical letter I have ad- dressed to the editors of the most widely read papers, none of whom, however, has seen his way to print it: “*Tn the treatment of the question of peace by our press, which evidently reflects the views current among the public, the following points call for attention: “*First, the adverse comment on the Russian democracy’s proclaimed formula, Peace Without Annexations and Without Contributions, of which such a respected organ of the neutral press as the Journal de Genéve, in a ed we article on June twenty-sixth, says: ‘It imposes itself not only on the delegates at Stockholm, but on the opinion of all countries.”” At its sitting on July nineteenth the German Reichstag adhered to the sense of this formula. And in its reply to the note of the Vatican the German Government says how much it has at heart this task in conformity with the desires of His Holiness and with the resolu- tion in regard to peace adopted by the German Reichstag on July nineteenth. This resolution among other things covers also the Reichstag’s adherence to the sense of the formula of Russia’s democracy. The renunciation of annexations, implied in the adherence of this formula, can evidently refer only to that side which has realized the occupation by force of arms of territo- ries which could become the objects of an- nexation. “*The Russian democracy’s formula covers indisputably all territories occupied by the enemy, consequently also Courland, with Riga, Lithuania and Poland, and does not therefore sacrifice any one of our real interests. The dreams of annexations by us of parts of Thrace, with Constantinople and the Asiatic shores of the Straits—if realizable at all—could evidently be realized only in a very remote and very dim future, and could not therefore be included in the category of real and actual interests of Russia. ““*On the other hand, the acceptance by all the civilized powers of the world of the Russian democracy’s formula—which should be the aim of the future peace con- ference—would do away, once for all, with the right of conquest hitherto recognized by international law and would thereby remove forever one of the most potent mo- tives for armed contests between states. “*Secondly, the constantly expressed expectation that the German Government would at last come out with a statement of EVENING POST the concrete conditions of peace which would be acceptable to them if they really, and not hypocritically, wished for peace, and also apprehensions lest their silence on this subject covered a trap with a view to induce our coalition to consent to the con- clusion of a so-called German peace. “*Similar statements fill the columns of those organs of the press in Allied countries which minister to the public sentiment arti- ficially created by the governments and ruling classes, and sustained by a régime of censure and administrative tyranny hith- erto unheard of in free countries. To any- one who has ever taken part in the conduct of negotiations, even if not on questions of great international importance, but simply on important questions of private interests, it must be perfectly plain that such atti- tude of the German Government is dic- tated to it precisely by their consciousness of the impossibility of realizing what is termed a German peace. In all business transactions the obvious tactics for the side which expects to have to make large concessions will consist, not in beginning by offering such concessions itself, but .in waiting till they are demanded by the other side. “*But our coalition with the accession of the United States has acquired material strengta and moral authority quite suffi- cient, in spite of the failure Pm front, in order to cause —if and whenever it really so wills—the submission of the German Government and the ruling caste on whose support it relies to the will of now almost all civilized mankind, if expressed in the terms of a final proposal based on the prin- ciples of justice and equity to all. The re- luctance to enter upon negotiations to that effect can only be explained by the desire to continue the war at any cost in the hope that military events in an indefinite future will realize the total crushing of the adver- sary promised to their peoples by the bel- ligerent governments.’ “The above are views an open expression of which seems to be considered inconven- ient and even dangerous by an influential part of our press, though these views are undoubtedly shared by millions of people, who even under the tyranny of the belli- cose psychosis fostered by the govern- ments and the ruling classes still possess the faculty of independent reasoning. “Our failure to enter upon negotiations with our Allies in the direction pointed out by the democracy—and the dubious atti- tude of our diplomacy in regard to its formula—has already caused and con- tinues to cause an incalculable and irrepa- rable injury to the true interests of Russia. The weight of her voice goes on diminish- ing with every month the war lasts, as the impending bankruptcy of the treasury, the entire ruin of the economic life of the coun- try and the destruction of the social and political fabric of the state through the ever Tigher rising tide of anarchy ap- proach nearer and nearer. At the same time this double-faced attitude toward the question of peace or war discloses before the world the division of the nation into an overwhelming majority thirsting for peace and an influential minority obstinately wedded to the doctrine of war at any cost, which —if under existing conditions it could possibly be put in operation—could only lead to the completion of the ruin and per- dition of Russia, a division which has al- ready foreshadowed to us the formidable phantom of coming civil war. “We should remember that on con- temporary Russia and her leading men of all parties a merciless verdict will be ren- dered by future generations of the Rus- sian people.” The publication of this letter in Maxim Gorky’s widely read newspaper brought down on my devoted head the fully expected silly insinuations of pro-Bolshevism and pro-Germanism. These I could only treat with the con- tempt they deserved. Of the comparative soundness of the divergent views taken of the situation in Russia by the Kerensky government on one hand and by the author of these rem- iniscences on the other, the reader will be able to judge from the following quotations. The first is from a telegraphic circular ad- dressed by Mr. Terestchenko, Minister of Foreign Affairs, to the Russian ambassa- dors at Paris, London, Tokio and Washing- ton, and to the envoy at Stockholm, under date of August 31, 1917--old style—re- lating to the military rising attempted by General Kornilov, with the connivance of the Duma leaders and other adherents of 113 the war-at-any-cost policy, which seems to have been favorably looked upon by Allied diplomacy as promising an effective restora- tion of the Russian front. The Minister of Foreign Affairs begins by saying: fhe rising of General Kornilov has been definitively liquidated; all has been settled without bloodshed, as the troops moved by him on Petrograd refused to march against the provisional government and declared their submission.” In concluding his circular, he says: “In general it may be considered that the re- grettable events of the last days, thanks to their quick liquidation, have not weakened us for the struggle with the external enemy, but have demonstrated the unity of senti- ment and the general tendency toward con- centration on that <- regardless of domestic dissensions. Whatever attempts may be made in the future, from left or right, todisturb the course of policy adopted by the government, it may be hoped that they will meet with a unanimous rebuff in the country. “The government will firmly follow the path of continuation of the war at any cost and will with renewed energy conduct the work of the renovation and restoration of the moral health of the army.” The second is the text of a letter I had occasion to address four days later, in reply to an inquiry, to a distinguished E nglish statesman with whom I was in friendly correspondence: **PETROGRAD, September 3/16, 1917. “My dear X;: 1 do not know whether my reply to your last letter which I had to for- ward by mail ever reached you. Under present conditions it is rather difficult to carry on a regular correspondence. The present missive, however, will reach you through another channel. It would take me a couple of hours to tell you all I would have to say, or a ream of note paper to take it down in writing. The best I can do therefore is to inclose herewith some of the material I have had printed for circulation among my friends, from which you will be able to form an opinion in regard to my views on the situation of affairs. “The sober, unvarnished truth being now- adays everywhere in belligerent countries treated as contraband of war and a most dangerous explosive, I have great difficulty in bringing my views before the public even here, where there is now no more political censure. So it happened that even the mildly socialistic Den, which had picked up sufficient civic courage to print my first article on the way out of the present im- passe, felt itself compelled to vee to pub- lish a second one, part of the substance of which you will find reproduced in a Letter from a Russian Patriot to an American Friend, of which I inclose a printed copy. “The greatest perturbing element in the situation has been the totally erroneous conception of the true meaning of the Rus- sian revolution formed at first in Allied countries on the basis apparently of the dubious attitude of our diplomacy, due either to failure to understand the real trend of events or else to culpable insin- cerity. “Even now people who ought to know better are loath to admit that the main- spring of the outbreak of the revolution was the revolt of the people against the war-—a revolt that will probably soon be shared in by-the masses in other belligerent countries, unless the classes come to their senses before it will be too late. “The attempted revolt of General Korni- lov has disclosed a crisis of the utmost gravity. Its immediate inglorious collapse, it is to be hoped, should at least have served to open the eyes of even the most obsti- nately purblind believers in the war-to-the- end doctrine, and to convince them of the utter hopelessness of their endeavor to force their policy upon an unwilling people The country is confronted now by this alternative: “Either the speedy conclusion of a gen- eral peace—not of course a separate peace with Germany, that groundless bugbear of Allied diplomacy and of our own chauvin- ists but a general peace on the basis of the Russian democracy’s program, and of the principles proclaimed by President Wilson; or else the prospect of civil war, anarchy and the disruption of Russia as a state, which could not possibly be to the advan- tage of any one of our Allies. “Yours very sincerely, R. R.” Editor's Note—This is the twenty-seventh of a series of articles by Baron Rosen. The next will appear in an carly issue

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PUMPS "THE rapid growth of industry and agriculture has brought forth an insistent demand for “pumps—pumps—and still more pumps!” Today's pumping problems tax the skill of pump designers to the utmost to turn out a better and more efficient product. Fairbanks-Morse build a wide variety of pumps. They help to increase the world’s supply of oil. Railroads use them for water supply. Cold storage warehouses obtain their low temperatures by using Fairbanks-Morse pumps for brine circulation. Im- mense hotels find them best for general water supply, as do hundreds of municipal water-works. And in the nce fields, as in other irrigation projects, they have been found economical— dependable—long lived. Fairbanks-Morse stand out distinctively for complete installations of their engine and motor driven pumps, where satisfactory oper- ation is assured by one responsibility. This is another example of the application of Fairbanks-Morse resources to emphasize its service objective, of which the trade mark of this house is the symbol. Our products include Fairbanks Scales—oil engines—pumps electric motors and generators—railway appliances and coaling stations—farm power machinery, such as “Z” engines, lighting plants, water systems. FAIRBANKS, MORSE & CO. y MANUFACTURERS CHICAGO \ World-wide distribution through our own branches and representatives THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 Cea seer

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 115

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116 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20, 1920 MADE IN_U.SA 4 bow * Wes San Drinizess ) | DISTINCTION IN DRESS } REG US PAT OFF The symbol of quality Haven't you found yourself seeking for some tangible assurance of better quality and more lasting style in order to get real dollars and cents value? That is the secret of the satisfaction derived from Printzess “Distine- tion in Dress.” You know that your coat or suit is not only good style but that it will wear well—that the beautiful fabrics are built on lines that persistently refuse to lose their shape under even the most trying conditions. For the Printzess tailors have placed their signature on every garment with the pride of an artist signing a masterpiece. And the Printzess merchant in your town endorses this signature because the reputation of his store rests on the quality of the merchandise he sells. Thus the Printzess label in your coat is a promise of the quality and style you demand—a promise which is fulfilled through seasons of wear until the regret of putting the garment aside is supplanted by the joy of replacing it with another Printzess. If you do not know the name of the Printzess merchant in your town, write us THE PRINTZ-BIEDERMAN CO. CLEVELAND New York Paris IN DIiSs'T TNG’ fT Faer™ Copyrighted 1920 by The Printz-Piederman Co THE NEXT PRINTZESS ANNOUNCEMENT WILL APPEAR DECEMBER (18th

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have been maintained. For us to get out from under now and permit these people to fall back upon themselves and their own as yet insufficient resources would be to my mind unthinkable. In the summer of 1919, when our official work ended, my colleagues and I undertook to form a voluntary association to carry the work forward on our own responsibility. We continued the name of the American Relief Administration and added to it European Children’s Fund, because the original name, abbreviated to the A. R. A., was a valuable asset when it came to secur- ing the actual coéperation of the peoples concerned. The Relief Administration did not make a general public appeal. We decided against it, because our peo- ple had been responding generously to such calls for five years, and we felt a sense of embarrassment in the thought of again ap- proaching them. Certain moneys came to our disposal from the liquidation of various functions under the Supreme Economic Council; other funds were given us by wealthy fam- ilies and foundations, and we were assured of financial support from groups in America representing the various nations with which we were concerned. There was also assist- ance from and coéperation with the Red Cross, the Joint Distribution Committee, the Y. W.C.A., the Y. M.C. A., the Amer- ican Friends Service Committee— Quaker and other committees for relief established among the numerous social groups in the United States. Despite all this, our representatives abroad continually besought us for aid to meet the grave distress among the adult populations in the countries in which they were operating, and we were convinced that means must be found for some allevia- tion of this condition. Working Out a Great Idea In addition, with our funds diminishing, we were anxious to discover a means of meeting our overhead expenses by some practical method which would enable us to put a dollar’s worth of food into some child’s mouth for every remaining dollar we had, and to assure people of good will that for every dollar they might contribute we would provide the cost of buying, trans- portation, distribution, and so on. It was at this juncture that the idea of the Food Draft presented itself. There are approximately four million families in the United States with affiliations in Central and Eastern. Europe, and as soon as inter- national mail communications were estab- lished after the armistice large numbers of these four millions began to receive direct appeals from their hungér-stricken rela- tives for food. Money would have done them very little good in their extremity, because there was practically no food of the kind they needed— milk, fats and flour—to THE SATURDAY EVENING POST AN ANNOUNCEMENT (Continued from Page 25) A Kitchen in Betvedere Patace, the Vienna Residence of the Archduke Ferdinand, Whose Assassination at Sarajevo Was the Immediate Cause of the War be bought. It is not possikle to describe a population that has lived for a long period without these essentials. If you are able to look beneath the usual surface of pride and bravado you get a vision of whole- sale suffering which moves you to an irresistible desire to turn to and do your part, whatever it may be, to put a stop to it. There was always some food of the right quality in Central and Eastern Europe, but the supply of the people—from the armi- stice, where our period of observation be- gan—fell and still falls into two classes: First, the ration issued by government; second, illicit circulation of food available to those who had or have a sufficient amount of money to pay any price for it. The gov- ernment ration—in those countries where the government-ration system is still in operation—always has been and is yet necessarily meager—insufficient, in fact, properly to maintain life; and if it had not been supplemented by American and Allied relief the story of Central and Eastern Europe after the war would have been lit- erally a horror great enough to have plunged civilization into chaos. The scramble for the scanty illicit food supplies placed the price of food to be bought in the open mar- ket entirely beyond the reach of the great bulk of the populations. As an illustration, at the end of 1919 a single ham outside the ration system sold for as much as one hun- dred and fifty dollars. The result of the individual appeals from the stricken countries was a flood of misdi- rected and wasteful relief from the United States. Thousands of men and women Rumanian, Bulgarian, Serb, Croatian, Austrian, Hungarian, Czech, Slovak, Jew, Ruthenian, Ukrainian, Pole, Esthonian, Levonian, German, and what not — we have them all with us in large numbers— began to purchase or prepare packages of food for overseas shipment on their individual re- sponsibility. They went to their own gro- cers and paid retail prices for their gifts; in a majority of cases they packed them inse- curely; they prepaid freight or parcels postage, which added in some instances as much as one hundred per cent to the cost of their operation; then they hopefully in trusted their precious contributions to transportation systems that were, to say the least, undependable, and as a result their food packages were generally lost en route or pilfered long before they reached their destinations. The consignee usually received nothing but a notice that a parcel had arrived for him, though there are thou- sands of recorded cases where the empty box itself was actually delivered. But the impulse to help was a right one, and it occurred to us that it would be a good idea to organize it. We thought out a plan in December, 1919, and named it the American Relief Administration Ware- houses. The idea was simple to begin with, but proved to be somewhat complicated when my colleagues came to working it out in detail. Briefly set forth, it was that we should stock warehouses in various parts of Central and Eastern Europe with food supplies and then sell Food Drafts on these warehouses to people in the United States which would call for the delivery uf spe- cific quantities of foods to designated per- sons. The development of this scheme cost us several weeks’ time and concentration of effort. Because there were so many de- tails to consider we were beset with a fear that we might make some irretrievable mistake in putting it in operation. It was a great business venture, with un precedented ramifications. First, we had to make sure that we could obtain the neces- sary credits for the purchase of supplies; then we had to approach the various Euro pean governments concerned and secure from them guaranties of active coéperation; after which came the problem of deciding upon the different kinds of food units we would handle—working out a package of staple foodstuffs with variety and high food value at the smallest financial out- lay; estimating the cost of the displace ment of our commodities from the United States to our distribution centers in Europe—their value, and last, but in our opinion by no means least, we had to pro vide some means of avoiding the too easy possibility of becoming an agency for de- preciating rather than enhancing the repu- tation of American products in foreign markets. We had to make sure that the materials we dealt in were of the highest quality, and in order to do this we made arrangements to place our own inspectors in every plant and wholesale house from which we purchased supplies. Even the proudest packing houses in the United States agreed to this measure. What the Food Drafts Buy When it came to the detail of working out the form of the Food Drafts we decided upon two denominations —one for ten dol lars and another for fifty. The ten-dollar Food Draft called for 24!» pounds of flour, 10 pounds of beans or rice, 8 pounds of bacon and 8 cans of milk; or a kosher pack- age designed for Jewish ‘consumption con taining 24'4 pounds of flour, 10 pounds of beans or rice, 7'» pounds of cottonseed oil and 12 cans of milk. The fifty-dollar Food Draft called for 140 pounds of flour, 50 pounds of beans or rice, 16 pounds of bacon, 15 pounds of lard, 12 pounds of corned beef and 48 cans of milk; or a kosher package containing 140 pounds of flour, 50 pounds of beans or rice, 45 pounds of cottonseed oil and 48 cans of milk. It was with some hesi- tation that I asked the bankers of the United States to become unremunerated selling agents for these Foof Drafts, but the response was all but unanimous, and represents one of the finest and most prac tical charities in my experience. To-day there is not a state in the Union that is not represented on our list of 4582 banks, while Hawaii, Porto Rico and our neighboring friends, Canada, Cuba, Mexico, all the re- publics of South America, the West Indies, (Conctuded on Page 120) Two Corners of the American Relief Administration Warehouse in Vienna, in Prince Eugene's Patace, Over the Counters of Which More Than $1,500,000 Worth of Food Has Passed in Less Than Six Months

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118 he ee "i "ig, “=e, THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Rich for all cooking \. SNOWDRIFT Fresh Pure Creamy Vegetable Fat November 20,1920 = We want to call the at- tention of every merchant to the unusual SNOW DRIFT GUARANTEE Our Snowdrift guarantee has al- ways been as plain, simple and broad as we can make it. We mean it as a real guarantee our personal assurance to you and your customers, It reads “Personally recommend Snowdrift to your customers — the women whose trade you value best If any customer does not like If she tells you that she did not like the cake or anything else in which she used Snowdrift, re- fund her the price of the Snow- drift and of the flour, sugar and eggs she used in making the cake, or the pie or biscuit, or whatever it may be If she fries a chicken or any- thing else in Snowdrift and tells you she doesn’t like it—pay her the cost of the chicken, or what- ever it was. We will promptly make good to you—in cash — without any fuss or argument.”* We not only offer her money back if she is not pleased but we offer to pay thinks is not better because she used Snowdrift. This is for the benefit of any of your customers who have for any food a woman never used Snowdrift and hesitate materials as expensive as all food- stuffs are today. We can afford to make this un live usual guarantee — and up to it because Snowdrift is so un- usually good when we make it and is then packed in an airtight can that Aeeps it just as pure and white and creamy and fresh as the day it was made. As a grocer you appreciate what an airtight can means. When your customer opens the airtight can in her kitchen she finds Snowdrift exactly as we made it. we can guarantee it. Southern Cotton Oil Trading Co. NEW YORK SAVANNAH NEW ORLEANS CHICAGO Makers of SNOWDRIFT WESSON OIL Of course Snowdrift — give her back her ; ; and SOUTHERN Brand money. to try any new experiment with PEANUT BUTTER om | Soe - 8 2 ——____—_—— ie ay — — — ™ Bir. Un Snowdrift is packed .™ aia ee 1, 2, 4 and 8 pound airtight tins — ee never sold in bulk. FR ea es ae ee, Sa

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 119 i |} dj Open the Airtight Can

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| No metal re 0) /OME out strong for Ivory Gar- ters. Say “Ivory Garters’’ so your dealer can hear you. You'll thank your stars you stuck to your tune, when you feel how blissfully light and cool Ivory Garters are. The difference is due to their free dom from pads and metal. Ivory Garters will not rust. They never hitch nor press nor bind. Every inch around an Ivory Garter is lively, active fabric with an unobtrusive but never-let-go cling. With almost no weight of their own to support, Ivory Garters work full time to make your socks and spirits toe the mark. They keep their life indefinitely and finish strong in the endurance run. Write it on the edge of your cuff. When you're up against your dealer's counter, “A pair of Ivory Garters, please,” is your sentence to leg freedom IVORY GARTER CO., New Orleans, U.S.A. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST | (Concluded from Page 117) | Costa Rica, the Republic of Panama and | the Canal Zone have all come in and are making invaluable contributions to the success of the plan. | In the beginning we encountered prob- lems in economics that could not be solved by any theoretical process with which we were familiar—chief among them being the instability of the prices of products—but if we had not learned early in our careers as relief agents to take long chances without succumbing to an attack of nervous pros- tration we never could have got anywhere. During the previous five years we had su- perintended the transportation to Europe of something in excess of two billion dollars’ worth of foodstuffs, and had therefore what might be called a practical starting point from which to work out a financial system which under all reasonable circum- stances would provide for overhead and other expenses and take care of all the ordi- nary risks involved. It was agreed that any margin of profit that should be left to us after all operating expenses were paid should be turned over to the European Children’s Fund, each country receiving the sum which accrued from the transac- tions on its behalf. After the period of machinery building our first act was to purchase in the open market six million dollars’ worth of food, which was shipped immediately to Europe and distributed among the various warehouses that we had established, manned and equipped. In the beginning there were only five of these, located at Vienna, Budapest, Prague, War- saw and Hamburg; but after the plan got | under way it was evident that due to the chaos existing in Eastern Europe, and the difficulties of internal transportation, it would be necessary to establish branches, of which there are now twenty. A Terrible Winter Ahead We began operations early in 1920, and on the twenty-third day of January the first Food Draft was sold. At the end of August, 1920, our books showed a sale of 165,814 drafts for $3,738,900, and by the end of September this had increased to 177,915 drafts for $4,156,810, and more than 80,000 canceled drafts had been re- ceived in New York representing completed transactions. At the close of business on July thirty-first, which is the latest com- pleted report we have to refer to, the public accountants who audit our books found that we were in possession of a balance of profit of $605,194.61, which was immedi- ately divided among the various nations in proportion to the number of Food Drafts purchased for each country and made available for child feeding. It was to get at this item in some detail that I have briefly sketched the story of the Food Drafts. Since I am making a direct appeal—for the last time, I sincerely hope—I want every American to know just what is being done and how it is being done. My concep- tion of this work is that every man and woman in the United States has a respon- sible share in it, and I wish above all things that I could induce every man and woman to acknowledge it. We may not be making as much of a profit out of our Food Draft transactions as an accomplished grocer en- gaged in the same enterprise might make, but it is more than we expected when we outlined our plan, and it is what it is largely becduse we have been able to command so much voluntary service, thereby reducing November 20,1920 running expenses. And such as it is, it is sufficient to cover the entire overhead ex- pense of the Children’s Relief, leaving a fine balance for the children, which is an assurance to everyone who contributes to the A. R. A. European Children’s Fund that not one cent of his contribution will be spent for anything except food and clothing for some child who without such a gift would have to go hungry and cold. When we embarked upon our effort to keep things going through the winter of 1919-1920 we thought that by the harvest of 1920 the recuperation in Central Europe would be such as to release us from further responsibility. But in some localities the crops were very poor; in the more back- ward countries the revival of industry and economic recovery have been so slow as to amount to almost nothing, while in those states affected by the bolshevik invasion our difficulties have increased, and condi- tions have grown worse instead of better. Five Million Children to Save On the other hand, the improvement in some sections—in Rumania and Serbia, for instance, where native food is now abun- dant—has been so great that we have been able to withdraw from them though they still need the medical services of the Red Cross. The areas that still require our sup- port are those in which the necessary food is not yet being produced, and where gov- ernments have not yet secured credits abroad; and it is in these areas that our three and a half million dependent children are located for whom we must have twenty- three million dollars over and above all our present resources. Failure to provide for these children in their distress would be equivalent to turning them from America’s door when there is no other door. The twenty-three million dollars which we need—the estimate being based on a careful calculation—added to former ex- penditures, will make a total outlay in excess of sixty million dollars. It sounds like an important sum, but far more impor- tant than its size is the fact that it represents the saving of five million children. No one shrinks from asking for chari- table support more than I do, yet my chief occupation for five awful years has been begging at the feet of the civilized world. I cannot promise never to beg again, but I can pray with therest of you for such rapid improvement in world conditions that I shall never again find it necessary. I know the various and manifold needsin the United States, but I cannot help but feel that with- out neglecting these needs there are thou- sands of American families, both native and foreign born, who out of their prosper- ity can afford something more to help these helpless children of Europe to live through this winter of their distress. They are not my children any more than they are yours, but I know exactly what they will have to face without us, and I therefore have no hesitation in asking the readers of THE SATURDAY EVENING Post to consider whether they cannot now and periodically during the winter give support to the American Relief Administration agencies throughout the country or through the head office at 42 Broadway, New York. As an item to be specially noted it should be added that any contributor who wishes to specify the country for which his money is to be expended may doso with a certainty that his instructions will be faithfully car- ried out. | Alder Creek, Gila County, Arizona

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Of the many white-robed folk who serve us, few own their workaday linen. The immaculate coat of the dentist is usu- ally a rented coat. The prim white apron of the waitress is a rented apron. Our down- town dinner is served on a rented tablecloth. In the barbershop and in the washroom we dry with a rented towel. Every morning, during every business day of the year, jackets, aprons, towels, and napery are delivered to 15,000,000 of us. This is the service of the Linen Supply. The Linen Supply is a division of the mod- ern laundry industry. 2,000 independent plants compose it. It is served by more than 40,000 employees. Instead of troubling themselves with the purchase, upkeep, and laundering of linen, business and professional men rent from this institution. Individual towels —those so conveniently at hand in the school , fy Pc > me the factory, and the office —these, too, " are rented from the Send it Linen Supply. Much of the table linen in restaurants is leased from this same great, country-wide service on similar rental basis. Every day the doctor, the dentist, the drug- gist, and the many other snowily clad people who serve us secure their cool and hygienic apparel from this modern purveyor of clean- liness and sanitation. The Linen Supply delivers coats, aprons, napery, towels, and trousers when they are wanted; collects and launders them when they are soiled; and replaces them when they are worn out. And the cost of this service is alw ays mod- erate —less than it would cost individual users and wearers of linen to buy their own supplies and launder them privately. May we suggest that when you need white linen youcall the Linen Supply? It’s another of the services that modern laundries have made available in your interest. If you dwell inany of the 500 towns and cities of 15,000 or more peo- ple, you'll find the to the : LinenSupply waiting and willing to serve bo cloundn you—ust telephone. The ALMCo THE AMERICAN LAUNDRY MACHINERY COMPANY Executive Offices: Cincinnati A lowel, a Tablecloth, and a Suit of White Every Morning, tor 15,000,000

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 VA ARRISON Radiators are without com- [Ze parison. This is the verdict of motorists \ whose cars are Harrison-equipped. Assuring efficient engine-cooling service win- ter and summer, adding to the cars’ appear- |' ance their own distinctive beauty, Harrison : Radiators measurably increase the joys and security of motoring. The Sheridan is another Harrison-equipped car. : ae Harrison Radiator Corporation General Offices and Factory: Lockport, N. Y. General Sales Offices: Detroit, Michigan Cities l Hexagon | Cellular

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— Considerable time is saved in the matter of dictation by making a careful memoran- dum of each detail that must be attended to before certain letters can be answered. All routine correspondence that requires no research is handled on the first reading. The other letters that cannot be replied to are laid to one side, and the memorandums respecting them are handed to the execu- tive’s secretary, who makes two copies of the list of notations. One copy goes to underofficials and department heads, who write brief replies to the questions asked. The other copy of the memorandums goes to the executive himself, who files it for reference. Later in the day, when the notations with answers appended have been returned to his desk, the boss is ready to clean up the held-over mail, since he has notes before him containing all the informa- tion necessary to use in replying to his cor- respondents. All department heads are aware that answers to the queries of the chief must be made promptly. Color codes are used to simplify matters in all departments. The color red is ui for items requiring prompt attention; blue is employed to record matters that are im- portant but not pressing; black is used for all details that can be laid aside for future action. Most department heads keep mem- orandum cards on the mouthpieces of their telephones. These cards contain items scheduled for disposal that day. The chief keeps a progress sheet in his desk on which are recorded all matters pending and in course of completion. A color code is also used on this progress chart. Memorandums in red show at a glance all delays in the completion of any matter. In this way slow spots in the company’s organization can be readily detected. One file on the manager’s desk contains a card index listing every important em- ployee in the company and giving a com- plete record of the worker’s time of service, regularity in attendance, personal habits, progress in the company, principal quali- fications, and so on. These cards are kept up-to-date by writing additional informa- tion on them as new developments in the company occur. The executive in charge of the company’s purchasing department has installed a unique arrangement which he claims is a time-saver. He sits on an armless swivel chair in front of a large roll-top desk, while directly behind him is a flat-top typewriter desk with disappearing machine. This ar- rangement permits him to get off short letters and memorandums himself without having to wait for a typist to come in re- sponse to his ring. Under the glass top covering part of the flat-top desk is a list of the telephone numbers most frequently called. Other data and tables most often referred to are visible under the glass on the desk. A spiral penrack offers quick selec- tion of the pen needed for each special class of work. The chair intended for callers is placed in such a position that all papers, important or otherwise, are out of the range of casual eyes. The system used by the company’s exec- utives for issuing instructions necessitates the employment of a loose-leaf book with sheets in duplicate. Instructions are writ- ten in this book and a carbon duplicate is sent to the employee who is expected to execute the order. If the instructions can- not be carried out as indicated, a stub attached to the duplicate is filled in and returned to the executive issuing the order. If, on the other hand, the order hus been taken care of, the upper portion of the duplicate sheet is signed by the employee and returned to the executive. The general manager has recently estab- lished what he calls a modified put-up sys- tem for the handling of important company mail that is not addressed directly to him, but which eventually requires his action. The general plan is to have all letters that require special service and are not covered by routine procedure go first to some im- portant subordinate whose business it is to see whether or not a letter can be taken care of without having to be put up to the general manager or other high executive. In case the letter must be referred to an officer higher up, the department head or other subordinate official figures out what he thinks would be the best way of dealing with the problem, makes a memorandum of his ideas in the matter and then notifies THE SATURDAY EVENING POST EVERYBODY’S BUSINESS (Concluded from Page 32) the information department, which acts as a clearing house for all put-up letters. All of these communications are handled by a system, and in due time the department worker is notified by the chief of the in- formation bureau that the executive in question is ready to see him and complete the handling of the letter which he has passed up with comments attached. The executive listens carefully to the solution proposed by the subordinate, and thus establishes a sympathetic personal contact. By the time the employee has finished his explanation the executive is ready to pass on the adequacy of the pro- posed solution. If the executive differs with the employee regarding the suggested course of action, a full explanation is made as to why he differs. The scheme so far has tended to bring the company’s personnel closer together and develop teamwork. It has also been discovered that the plan saves time by referring many relatively unimportant problems to detail workers whose time is not so valuable as that of the higher-up executives. In many business offices a system pre- vails which encourages subordinates to pass the buck on nearly all matters to someone in a higher position, Under such conditions they are not inspired to formu- late decisions, and when they are called in to furnish an executive with information the hearing often results in an argument that does anything but foster harmony. The put-up plan makes real executives out of the big bosses and educates subordinates to undertake larger responsibilities, think intelligently and develop initiative. It is also a fact that this scheme increases the worker’s resourcefulness and causes him to consult the reference books in the com- pany’s library. So far I have confined myself to stating a few of the practices employed in the principal or home offices of the company referred to. Many of the plans and meth- ods used in the big retail establishments of the concern indicate that the successful ideas of the general manager have per- meated to the remote ends of the whole or- ganization. The details of many of the practices must be held for a later story, but a few further remarks seem to be appro- priate here. In all branches of the busi- ness, and particularly in the retail end where employees come in contact with the public, service appears to be the basis of all action. Certain stores located on busy transfer corners render a degree of accom- modation to patrons that is quite unusual. Printed schedules are posted showing the time of arrival and departure of various cars on the electric trolley lines passing these points in the city. It is the business of one employee to announce a short while before- hand what cars are due to come and leave. This permits the customers to shop up to the last moment without being subjected to the inconvenience of missing the car they wish to take. Each store has a bulletin board on which are posted all telephone calls received for customers. Confidential messages are re- ceived and held in sealed envelopes. As a general rule the name of the person called is posted on a bulletin board and upon in- quiry he or she is given the number to call up, provided there is no message to deliver. The management of each establishment endeavors to keep in touch with all its customers by sending an original letter to each patron who has not made a purchase within the last six months. The letters sent out are signed personally by the local manager, and state that the company has noted the customer’s absence with much regret. A simple but efficient card ledger provides the company with information as to when a customer made his last purchase. In all of the company’s stores each cus- tomer is card-indexed as to the number and kind of purchases made. By this plan the local manager is enabled to send each cus- tomer booklets and other literature on only those subjects that will be of interest. This information is collected by one clerk, who takes the monthly statements and posts each customer’s card with the last month’s purchases, subdividing the articles under their proper headings. In this way the company not only gets a clear idea of the likes and dislikes of each patron, but it also obtains definite information with respect to each person’s social and financial standing. Through the operation of this plan there is no danger of wasting a circular describing roller skates on an old bachelor who has difficulty navigating with a cane. All ad- vertising matter is sent out with state- ments and receipts, and is never included in the letters mailed to absentee customers urging a renewal of their patronage. he general manager of the company, who, as before stated, is the guiding spirit in its industrial relations as well as in its business methods, has imbued his employees with respect for various simple but effec- tive practices that have added materially to the company’s success. Each and every worker has been impressed with the im- portance of remembering names and faces. “In no way,” says the manager, “is it possible to pay a more marked compliment to customers than by addressing them by | their right names.” He believes that the personal efficiency of any worker may best be gauged by find- ing out what percentage of available ideas the person actually adopts for practical use in hisown work. The man who, through reading or personal association, comes across a dozen worth-while schemes and lacks sufficient energy to apply most of them to his own business is certainly not efficient. The manager advises that each em- ployee should study all the periodicals that pertain to his particular line of work. Only in this way is it possible to discover what other men in the same industry are doing and saying. On frequent occasions he calls one or another of his assistants or department heads in to discuss the details of his work. This is done without warning and gives the boss a good line on the work- er’s efficiency. Good-natured rivalry among the officers and departments in a company stimulates effort and heightens efficiency, but such competition must be carried on without the petty jealousies so common in large corpo- rations to-day. The manager who can rouse rivalry of the right kind among his lesser officials is possessed of a faculty worth much to his company. It is also advisable to remember that it is far better to create new customers than to appropriate them from the other fellow. The customers we create are both easier to get and easier to hold. The way to develop such business is to do things other people have failed to think of or believe cannot be done. “Tt is all very well to be cautious,” said my friend the executive, “but one should never forget that the power to decide promptly is a greater asset than ability to think exhaustively. The man who decides quickly will sometimes make mistakes, but he will learn more from his experiences than the slow and timid man will ever learn from | his days of thought. “Prompt decision does not always mean snap judgment. The employee who would rise in his profession to-day must first de- cide on his objective, and then concentrate all his energies on that one aim. He must also understand that the attainment of | future success generally means the sacrifice | of present comfort. ‘Success is not so easy to attain as most people imagine, for if it were we would not have a condition in this country where eighty-five per cent of all adults ‘die with- out leaving any estate; one-third of all widows would not be left without the necessities of life, and seventy-five per cent without the ordinary comforts. The errors that lead to failure are not those that occur in the handling of big and difficult prob- lems. On the other hand, they are the little oversights and omissions such as sign- ing documents without knowing their con- tents, neglecting to get and keep receipts after bills are paid, inability to establish a standard of living so that one’s expenses will not exceed his income and dissipate his savings, too little caution in starting credit accounts and in investing money on mere hearsay without a proper knowledge of facts. Many a man has lost hard-earned dollars through merely neglecting to check up items on current bills, and dozens of individuals have been compelled to face ruin simply because they were careless in the handling of valuable business papers. The thing that counts most in everyday life is the common-sense observance of well-known fundamentals of business con- duct rather than any adherence to complex rules that have been mastered only by a fortunate few.” | Tire adjusters say that even careful motorists waste on an average of 2000 miles per tire by driving their tires under-inflated. This leads torim cuts, strain- ing of fabric or separat- ing of cords and premature breakdown. The Tirometer is a simple, lasting de- vice which warns instantly of under- (or over-) inflation. It is a combination of a mechanically correct valve with an ac- curate pressure gauge, fitted with un- breakable transparent cap, so as to be instantly readable. Easily and quickly adjusted to the tube or changed from an old tube to a new one. Taking tire pressures with the old style auge isa troublesome, messy operation. t simply isn't human nature to take them often enough. With Tirometer merely a glance shows the pressures. At dealers’ or direct $1.75 or five for $8.00. Specify wood or wire wheels. An attractive dealer proposition on request. Tirometer Valve Corporation of America Charleston, W. Va. No bumping the bumps Garco has prevented many men from losing their heads when confronted with emergencies. It’s reliable in action because it’s reliable in construction. It’s as tough, durable and gripping as experienced brake lining manufacturers can make it. Garco is made of the best materials the markets of the world can provide. The more responsible dealers sell Garco. |General Asbestos & Rubber Co. Charleston, S. C. NEW YORK CHICAGO PITTSBURGH GARCO) BRAIXIZ LINING WRITE FOR OUR R BOOKS 9 620 Woolworth Bldg. NEW YORK 625 F Street. WASHINGTON, D. C. 801 Tower Blig.. CHICAGO, ILL | Hobart Bidg., SAN FRANCISCO, CALIF.

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20, 1920 Westinghouse ELECTRICAL APPLIANCES Saw FOR FARM PURPOSES \ \ D lap ees pabubtot i $ re oes Lay RES be ee i mess

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For thirty years the American farmer looked with longing eyes upon the wonder-working of electricity in city and town. He saw it creating new stand- ards and new comforts—to him denied. Today electricity, reaching out into the farm home and the farm field, is bringing to the rural millions all that it has already brought to the urban : dweller. Whether produced by a little power plant in the cellar or brought over wires from a central power station in the nearest community, electricity today is } ( modernizing the business of farming— (4 the greatest industry of them all. f It has solved the problem of auto- matically maintaining an ample and reliable supply of water. Progressive farmers are milking their cows, separating the cream, and churn- THE SATURDAY EVENING POST esting COMPLETE POWER PLANT The New Farm Help~ Electricity Westinghouse engineering and equipment play a great part in this development. Westinghouse Generators develop the current which sweeps through Westinghouse line apparatus to its point of service. Westinghouse devices make it safe, Westinghouse Motors and Appliances make it serviceable. WESTINGHOUSE ELECTRIC & MANUFACTURING CO, house AND LINE EQUIPMENT ing it to butter, electrically. Dairy products are kept unspoiled in storage, cooled by electrical refrigeration. On the electrified farm corn is shelled and ground by motor, ensilage cut, hay hoisted, the tool-room and even the threshing machine are driven by motors. Electricity thus makes it possible for fewer hands to do more things, to do them at the right time, and at a profit. In the home, motor-driven helps do: the washing, the sewing, the cleaning. Electrical appliances do the ironing and the cooking. The same current that supplies warmth in winter provides cooling breezes against summer heat. And every nook and corner, indoors or out, is provided with a convenient, safe, and economical supply of light—a thing of which the average farm has never before had enough.

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 es Thé way to lower shoe bills LV "THE construction of a battleship is No.1 of a much like the building of a shoe. iain a Its strength, to an unusual degree, de- pends upon the strength of its inner Hidden Strength — construction. Ribs of a Ship When you buy shoes the lining you pay for—the lining you accept—will add up to $2 worth more wear—or it will lessen the worth just that much. Red-line-in Shoe Lining not only makes shoes wear longer, but it insures greater comfort and keeps the shoes nearer their original shape. It eases the wear on seams and leather. The inside rein- ewe is the abiding strength of the snoe, The demand is world-wide for more serviceable, more economical goods. You can get additional wear and thus lower your shoe bills by calling for shoes lined with Red-line-in. Look forthe RED LINE in the lining. It is the RED LINE that guarantees a reduction of your shoe bills. FARNSWORTH, HOYT COMPANY § Established 1856 Essex and Lincoln Sts., Boston, Mass. Inside Facts FREE About one person in a hun dred knows just what makes shoes more servic i bl ya , moi! nce ~ and This is the lining that economical. “The Service makes shoes wear longer Stripe.” sent without charge as cut by the manufacturer pe, sen ‘ h utch arge before it goes into the shoe. on request, gives the IN- See the lines in “ Red-line-in.” 8 SIDE facts. Write for it, shoes wear longer

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She chose a corner where blank marble walls provided a safe backing and the open space, looking down into the lobby, prom- ised protection against eavesdroppers in that direction. There were other couples in the gallery—men and women talking with an obvious thought for seclusion; an effect of furtive intimacy, of romance finding secrecy in the midst of publicity, amused Fraser. He wondered if a chance observer would draw the same inference about him and this hard cold woman who had spoiled his initial enterprise. “Now, please. What are you doing here?” He shrugged. “ Waiting for something to turn up, I suppose.” “Don’t quibble. I’ve followed you all the way from—from your late residence.” She seemed to take pleasure in his start of surprise. “I know you’re up to something. What is it?”’ The tone stirred an answering hostility in him. He shrugged again. “Find out, if you know so much. There’s no crime in sitting here, I guess.” “Oh, don’t be so stupid. Do you think I’m against you? Can’t you see that I’ve got a good reason for asking? Do you sup- pose I’ve been hanging round up there waiting for you to get out just to make trouble for you?” “Then why have you?” He was puzzled again. ‘Put your own cards on the table. You can afford to. I can’t.” “T can’t either—just yet. Tell me this much: Are you going to play straight or keep on with the other game? You can trust me that far, can’t you?” He knew, strangely, that he could. “‘What’s the use? You know I haven’t got a chance to quit now. Of course I’m going on—only I’m going to play safe this time.” She softened instantly. ‘‘That’s better. I had to know. I wasn’t going to spoil any- body’s chance of keeping straight, but I’ve been waiting for you ever since they sent you up. If you're going on I can use you. He stared. “Use me? How? Do you mean x “Oh, of course I mean! Look at me! Do I look soft? Ever hear of Lou Whit- comb? He opened his eyes. Of course he had heard of Lou Whitcomb, forger, fraud, who had practiced his trade almost in the open, spent only three years in prison out of thirty or more of continuous theft and died, according to report, while THE SATURDAY EVENING POST FOOLS FIRST (Continued from Page 13) and beat it. They jugged me because I tried to play it square —— She shook her head. “They caught you because you were a fool,” she said evenly. “That’s the one crime that never escapes. My father used to say that it didn’t matter whether a fool was honest or crooked, he got what he deserved, and got it quick.” “TI don’t see that there was anything so stupid about that entry scheme of mine.” He was hurt. “That shows you're still a fool then. You knew that if they caught you it would be a penitentiary job, didn’t you? You knew that it was just as crooked, in the law’s eye, to borrow that money as to steal it?” “But I thought I could get before = “That doesn’t matter. You were playing a crooked game, with your reputation and liberty as your stake. And you stood to win nothing but a bit of small change! If that wasn’t foolish I don’t know what the word means.” “Yes, but “And what else did you do? Did you try to keep them from finding out? Not you! Instead of taking extra trouble to look square you did your best to make them suspect you. How did they come to spot you? Because they saw you spending three or four times what you earned! You might as well have put an ad in the papers! sg ‘T see that—now. But I’m a crook now. “Oh, you are? one?” it back When did you get to be There was the old sting in her tone. He felt himself coloring under the insult of her eyes. “They made me one—back there,”’ he said. “They stamped the word on me so it won "t ever come off.” “Tsee. And if they’d hung a sign round your neck with ‘astronomer’ painted on it I suppose you'd know about the stars, wouldn’t you? All a general needs is a uniform? Oh, you are a fool!” “T mean 7 “You mean that they’ve made it harder for you to be honest. That's true. But they’ve made it harder still for you to be a crooked success. Don’t make any mistake about that. You've got the label now. And that’s going to hurt. But you can manage, drawing a stiff salary from a bank- ers’ association for letting its mem- bers alone. But what had Lou Whitcomb to do with this woman? “T see you have,” her dry voice told him. ‘‘He was my father. Do you understand now?”’ “Your father? Why - i “Yes. And not such a bad one as you might think. But it doesn’t give me much more chance than you have. I can’t get away from it very long. Sooner or later sorne snoop- ing bull spots me and gets me dis- charged. Lou Whitcomb’s girl isn’t welcome in any place where there’s money. I left Simpson’s the day they caught you. I knew they'd recognize me if I didn’t.” It came to him vaguely that this explained her animosity. Naturally she’d hate him for spoiling her job, forcing her to move on to another, not so go “T see. But you said you’d been waiting—you could use me. What did you mean by that?” “It’s simple enough. I saw that you had something I haven’t—im- agination. My father had it. ft explained the way he got along so many years. He was always spring- ing something absolutely new — something they weren’t ready for. Sometimes he’d even beat the law- makers—invent a game the penal code didn’t cover. That scheme of yours at Simpson's s showed a flash of the same gift. I’d have tried some- thing like it long ago if I could have invented it. But I’d have succeeded where you failed.” His old wrongs came back to him. “I wasn’t a crook,” he said sullenly. “‘That’s why they got me. ‘class, I'll say. New too. if you'll only get it out of your head that you know all about the hardest business in the world, just because you failed the first time you tried it.” “T guess I’m not apt to have my head swell as Jong as you're round to tell me about it.” He grinned surrender. “T can see your point. You're right.” “TknowIam. Now tell me: What were you going to do here?” He brightened. It was a clever scheme. “Oh, that was just to make a stake. Small-time stuff. But pretty good in its I was watching for some prosperous bird to register—some fellow with a lot of bags, you know. Then I was going to ride up in the elevator with him and spot his room number. Then I'd come down and wait till he turned in his key. Wait half an hour or so and ask for it myself. The key clerk can’t possibly tell who’s who. I’ve been watching. There's three of them down there. They hand out a to anybody that asks for ’em. That's He waited for applause. Instead he saw her eyes narrow ont her lips lift in scornful amusement. “Ts it? You go through his luggage and = k up some silver-plated bag fittings per- aps. You can go out and pawn them for two or three dollars. And you take about ten good chances of being spotted. You haven't learned anything, have you? You got twenty-eight hundred from Simpson. Now you want to steal a few pennies!” “Well, I’ve got to have a front for a big play “Yes. And that means something more than clothes and pocket money—unless you're set on always being a fool crook. The front you need is a solid position, re- spect and trust and confidence that’ ll stand back of you when you need ‘em. And you’ve got to work for them. Oh, I guess you need me more than I need you, sure enough! You'd be back in the pen inside of a week if I hadn't looked afte or you. “It's a good scheme “Yes, that’s true. It’s fine. But you want to waste it on petty larceny! An idea like that ought to be worth something big. It’s a thing we could use to pull off a play in the thousands or millions perhaps. But if you work it now they'll be watching for it—they’ll fix up some system of key identi- fication. Don’t you see “But I’ve got three dollars left. I’ve got to raise a grubstake —— “Not now. I’ll take care of that. That's why I waited for you up there. I didn’t dare speak to you till I was sure you weren’t being trailed. And I had to find out whether you'd turned over a new leaf in there too. But it’s all right now. Here’s a hundred.” She slid a folded lump of bills from one of the mended gloves. “ Don’t be silly. We're in partnership now, aren't we?” He took it. But I don’t see “4 “Don’t interrupt if you can help it. Listen carefully. I’m a stenographer with Benton C. Drew, at 35 Broadway. He's a freight forwarder. Never mind what that means. I think there’s a chance for some- thing big in the line. And I've been per- suading him that he ought to get some bright ambitious youngster in with him He does need somebody, true enough. He's gone so far as to advertise for one. Here's the clipping. And here’s the letter you're going to write him as soon as you've looked up a boarding house. I’ll give you an ad- dress in a minute. I think I can manage to make him answer you. He’s got quite a lot of confidence dn my judgment. And when you call I can make him give you a chance. If I can’t we'll try something else, but I think it'll be all right.” “But I don’t know a thing “That's understood. Mr. Drew's a tight- wad. How he ever got into the freight- forwarding business I don’t know, but he plays it exactly as you might expect squeezing the pennies, even if it costs him dollars. He'd have to pay a trained man pretty well. He'll offer you ten a week probably. He'll pay twelve or fifteen, I think. And he'll work you to the edge of frenzy to get it back. There’s no eight-hour day in our shop—for anybody.” “References, though?” “You've never worked anywhere before Been at college. Your father’s died, and you've got to paddle your own canoe. He won't bother about references, anyway, if he thinks he can make a profit on you. And I'll be there, remember. You'd better get used to the new name too. Fraser Thomp- son ge “Oh, no—too much like the old one.” “There! I was right about you. You're brilliant one way and a baby in every other. Don’t you see that we've got to be prepared for every possible “All right. chance? There must be a hundred people who know you well enough to speak to you if they happen to meet you. It’s on the cards that you'll run into one before the week's up. Anyway we've got to be pre- pared for it. Suppose your name’s Andrew Jackson and somebody stops you on the street and calls y ou Fraser or Tom or Tommy? See? “Right. I'm learning e very min- ute Anything else?”’ “Yes. The most important thing of all. You've got to be Fraser Thompson. You've got to live on what you earn—dress on it, save out of it. You can’t play a part al! day and another at-night. You can't afford to give anybody a chance in the world to suspect you. A man who's on the level can afford to look otherwise now and then, but a crook can't.*Do yousee that? Your front, as | said before, has to be convinc- ingly honest. Father always said that was four-fifths of success —look ing square.” “It sounds sensible. And I guess I can stand pretty near anything after a year and a half up there.” She rose, smoothing down the serge skirt carefully. “That's all. You'll hear from us day after to-morrow probably. Bet- ter get some other clothes in the meantime. “Go round to a sec ondhand shop on Seventh Avenue and pick out something respectable and quiet, with a few signs of wear. And if things go wrong you can get in touch with me at this address.” He took the card and pocketed it. “Can’t we—I wish you ‘d have dinner with me. It’s—it’s lone- some re I meant to pay it back. If I’d. been out to steal I’d have filled a grip, Not Even a Letter Came to Him White He Cleached and Choked in the Gray Wet Caves (Continued on Page 130)

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20, 1920 New December Numbers umbia Nora Bayes Makes Records Exclusively for Columbia Some Other Exclusive Columbia Stars HARRY C. BROWNE FRANK CRUMIT HARRY FOX MARION HARRIS TED LEWIS’ JAZZ BAND VAN AND SCHENCK BERT WILLIAMS

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Now on Sale THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Records Ponselle and Hackett in Great “Aida” Duet

aorn> ; P Beautiful at Sixty as / gv e You Were at Sweet (A ‘ Sixteen.” YS A-2997—$1.00 Ted Lewis’ Feature Fox-trot.“Fair One’ Ted Lewis’ Jazz Band is NOW repe: ating in Chi- cago its phenomenal New York success. That’s where these exc/usive Columbia ar- tists recorded “Fair One”’ and ‘“‘Gypsy Moon,’ the two catchiest fox-trots of the year. A-2998—$1.00

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST **Faithfal to the Last"’ Only Two from a Skin N making Nunn from each skin is cut only one pair of Bush Superfine Shoes, vamps (the leather over the forward part of the foot, between the tip and the upper). The quality of the remainder is not trustworthy enough for this fine footwear, we believe, so it 1s used for some lesser purpose. This care in the selection of leathers may seem | more discriminating than is necessary. But it is in the maintaining of such distinctions in materials and workmanship that Nunn-Bush Shoes have achieved their reputation. | On display in the larger exclusive shops in New York at the Nunn-Bush Stores, 9 Cortlandt Street and 139 Nassau Street. {| Style Book on request. | NUNN, BusH & WELDON SHOE Co. MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN (Continued from Page 127) She shook her head decisively. ‘No. | There’s nothing to be gained in risking it. | After we’ve met in the office we can do as we please. Till then we’d better not be seen together. I had to risk it this once.” He stopped her as she turned. “‘ When they were juggin me, back there at Simp- son's, you looked—well, you looked glad.” “I was—for a minute: I hadn’t been sure till then, though I’d suspected. It was selfish, [ suppose. But I was thinking, even then, that now we could work together.” “Funny. I've been thinking all along that you hated me like poison.’ “Well, I suppose I did too. It’s mighty hard not to hate a fool. Even God can’t help doing that.” She spoke with the old whipping cut, and the words kept on stinging as he watched her move away, erect, adequate, self-sure. She hated him even now, he thought. But there was a compensating sense of security in her contempt. He felt that he was safe under her leadership. There had been little of the fool about Ln Whitcomb. There was none whatever in his daughter. wm IS confidence deepened after his inter- view with Benton Drew. The man’s native shrewdness seemed to lie visibly on the surface; his eyes perpetually narrowed at their outer corners, his lips curiously sly even when they smiled, a canny distrust apparent in every question he asked. Yet Ann Whittaker dominated him completely without his suspecting it. Fraser approved her simple method of managing this. She merely played on Drew’s instinctive dislike of advice. He heard them arguing in the inner room while he waited for the verdict. “Too cheap,” said the girl’s taut voice. “If he’s any good he doesn't have to work for twelve a week.” “TI worked for three when,I started,”’ said Drew. “‘ Maybe you think ——” “Tt’s your business, But I'd get a trained man.” “And have him starting in for himself in six months with your customers. No, sir. I'm going to try this fellow out.” “Suit yourself.” Fraser could almost see her shrug. He avoided her eye during the lecture which introduced him to the business of freight forwarding as Benton Drew conceived and practiced it, his mind alert and receptive, his imagination on the watch for the pos- sibility of fraud. It was too technical at first. He found himself meshed in a tangle of strange words, dealing with processes bewilderingly complex in their unfamiliar- ity. He gathered only the essence of the business. It appeared that Drew merely attended to certain details of transferring merchan- dise from the rails which brought it to the seaboard to the steamers which carried it to overseas buyers—a simple service, seem- ingly, and yet, as Drew elaborated it, an affair of highly specialized technical knowl- edge. There were all sorts of obstacles in the way of international shipping, evi- dently—consular invoices, manifests, ma- rine insurance, lighterage. He realized that he would have to penetrate far into the business before his talent for the illegal profit could serve him. And his respect for Ann Whittaker deep- ened when she supplemented Drew’s in- structions. She had already acquired a comprehensive understanding of the busi- ness; he saw that Drew himself deferred to her on occasional points of dispute. And from her, during and after business hours, he learned more than Drew could have taught him. In its complete novelty the new trade interested him quite apart from its possi- bilities as a field for theft. It gave him a sudden glimpse of hidden rivers of trade, held a hint of romance and adventure in its driest details. The fine-typed conditions on the backs of bills of lading stirred his imagination, 8 ge the shipowner of losses occasioned by piracy and barratry and mutiny on the high seas, the jettison of cargo for safety during storm. There was allure and mystery in the very destinations: Maracaibo and Port of Spain and Delagoa Bay. Commonplace commodities acquired a romantic aspect when embarked for harbors facing the Caribbean of the bucca- neers, for open roadsteads under the spell of Andean peaks; harness for equatorial Africa; typewriters consigned to Chinese traders in Java and Penang; patent medi- cines for mule-back transport into Bolivia; November 20,1920 suspenders destined for the headwaters of the Amazon. His work took him to railroad piers across the river, where he watched myste- rious steel-strapped cases swing from flat cars to the clumsy, buoyant lighters; he learned to understand the queer symbols stenciled on their sides, to recognize the marks of big importers dotting a world suddenly made real and yet more interest- ing. He grew familiar with the long ware- houses on the Brooklyn docks, with their heady smells of tar and sugar and fruit and wool and lumber; he saw into holds where lascars stowed freights; he grew familiar with the offices where consuls issued docu- ments in strange tongues, where foreign bankers dealt in drafts and bills on cities hidden under the bulge of the blue sea. At first it merely interested him, and bewildered. There was sg little that he recognized, so much that seemed deliber- ately baffling. Even with Ann Whittaker’s evening lessons he gained his understand- ing slowly. He saw her often, in the drab boarding house where she lived or in the® parks when the night was kind; and his faith in her steadily strengthened. “It’s fascinating,” he told her after a month of it, “but I don’t see any opening for us. We don’t handle money to amount to anything. Of course there’s all the chance on earth for little graft—we could pad bills without a bit of risk. The shippers don’t know what they ought to pay for insurance or fees. But that’s Drew’s end of it.” “Yes, and he’s wise enough to know better. He could get away with it for a while, but some other forwarder would come along and underbid him sooner or later. 1 should think you'd learn that next to being a fool the surest way to lose is to be a piker. Or haven’t you tried that often enough?” She had a way of throwing his past folly at him just when he imagined she had begun to forget it. Always the reminder had the effect of increasing his faith in her straighter vision. “The whole business is a piker’s trade,” he objected. “‘ Drew picks up his profits in five and ten dollar lumps. He only deals with little concerns. The big shippers handle their own freight.” “That's Drew's trouble. He’s a small- job man by instinct. But I know I'm right about the business, It’s just what we need.” “IT don’t see why you're so sure, It looks ——” standing in between people who're ten thousand miles apart. That's the big asset. It would take months to find out a good play. It’s up to you to see the way of working it. That’s why I’ve waited for you. Don’t be too much in a hurry. You don’t see half of it yet.” He waited patiently enough. The work entertained him more than any he had ever done. And there was fun, too, in playing his part. Poverty in itself would have been hard to endure; poverty adopted as a disguise was a sort of game. Up at the boarding house they clearly took him for what he seemed, with his resoled shoes, his one suit, his alarm-clock punctuality. Drew himself observed his thrift and compli- mented him on it. “You've got the right idee,”” he declared, finding Fraser eating a lunch of an apple and soda crackers in the outer office. “That’s how I made my start—squeezin’ the a, Savin’ any money?” “Why? Think you can cut my pay?” Frazer grinned impudently, sure of his ground. The answer plainly delighted Drew. “Sharp too. Got Yankee blood in you, I guess. Don’t need to tell me now. know you got a bank account started.” Fraser hadn't then, but he took the hint and deposited the remnant of the money Ann Whittaker had advanced that after- noon, Thereafter he made a point of put- ting away something out of every week's It helped him to feel at home in his part. Ann nodded approval when he showed her the book. “You're learning. Better ask Mr. Drew if you can leave the pass book in the safe. He'll like you better if he thinks you're thrifty.” Drew clearly did. He bitterly contested the point when Fraser demanded a three- dollar raise after his third month, but he yielded. Ann Whittaker interpreted this as a token of extreme regard, and Fraser (Continued on Page 133)

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 131 Among the Christmas Gifts For the grown-ups or the nearly grown-ups, a Kodak for pictures of the post card size, 3} x 5! inches, It is familiarly known to hun- dreds of thousands of enthusiasts as the ‘'3A”’, It makes the largest Picture available in “* pocket photography”. The 3A will really go into the side pocket of almost any coat. Frankly, however, it is more > conveniently carried in an overcoat. pocket—or slung over tHe shoul- der in a case. Excise war.tax and all, the Junior model, with a fine Rapid Rectilinear lens, sells-at $24.64—and with the Kodak Anasfig- mat f.7.7 lens, at $30.62, There are other more expensive models— all have. the Kodak simple Aad they all make good pictures. b of 3 i ae es A gift for theone whi already has a larger Kotiakecothe Vest Pocket. You don’t carry @, Vest Pocket Kodak—you wear it, like a watch~ It is always ready to picture the unexpected and the unusual, The price, includ- ing the excise wat tax, is $9.49. For the boy or girl in high school—the No. 1 Kodak Junior. There’s always room for it in the” pocket, and the Kodak story of the school days is one that not only gives fun in the making but in its album form becomes a permanent delight to the whole family, The price of the No. 1 Autographic Kodak Junior is $16.67, includ- ing the excise war tax. For the little folks--a No, 0 Brownie. These little cameras have good lenses and shutters and finders, and use the same film and make the same size pictures as the Vest Pocket Kodak. You will’be astonished by the good work they do; you will be even more astonished at the intelligent way in which a youngster of. seven or eight will go about picture- making With a No. 0 Brownie. The pricey including war tax, is $2.86. This page gives only a hint of the Kodak and Brownie line—there are Brownies for pictures of every size that Kodaks make, and there are Kodaks with high speed shutters and rapid lenses—there are folding Brownies as well as box Brownies——but they all have one common characteristic—they make good pictures. And all Kodaks (except Stereo and Panoram) and all folding Brownies have something else in common they are Autographic, and when used with Autographic film provide for the instant titling of every negative at the time it is made. And the Autographic costs no more than other film. EASTMAN KODAK COMPANY, Rocuester, N. Y., The Kodak City. oie}

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132 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST { AC APOE ‘Nn 4 i a =€ PHOENIX) 7% Z Z nema . bec D ge Down all the walks of life Phoenix Hosiery spreads a stout and unending carpet for the tramp of strenuous feet. A finer and a more economical fabric the world has probably never traveled on. It is this dapper sturdi- ness that has made it the best selling line of hosiery that the builders of trade have ever known. PHOENIX HOSIERY November 20,1920

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———— (Continued from Page 130 believed her. He saved five dollars of the fifteen religiously, and he saw that Drew knew it. Nevertheless, he made no progress toward inspiration. The office handled almost no money. Only small checks came in, cover- ing Drew’s advances and fees, and these offered no chance for illegitimate profit on Fraser's part. Drew did his own banking. “It’s no good,” he declared after a long talk with Ann Whittaker. “We're playing a dead card. Let’s shift.” “Not yet. I know there’s something big here. And I’m counting on you to find it sometime. There’s no hurry. That’s an- other thing we can’t afford in our pusiness. A crook in a hurry is a poor crook, father always said.” He felt the truth of this. But he clung to his position as to the promise of big profit in their present employment. He had his first enlightenment one bitter January morning when Drew, wheezing with a hard cold, dispatched him on an errand hitherto withheld. “Go up to the Maritime Bank and fill out that Holden draft on Guayaquil for this amount,” he rasped. “I ain’t goin’ out till I hev.to. And it’s time you learnt somethin’ about the bankin’ end.” Fraser took the slip and departed. At the bank he interviewed a draft clerk, who produced the bill in question—a sight draft on an Ecuador importer, with the amount left blank. “‘Why didn’t they fill it out themselves?” said Fraser as the clerk checked his addi- tion and wrote in the amount. The man grinned at his ignorance. “How'd they know what you robbers were going to charge for freight and fees and insurance?”’ he demanded. “Kind of new at this game, aren’t you?” Fraser nodded, and the other took time to enlighten him. “The consignee pays all charges, you know, nine times outa ten. But the insur- ance and freight and fees got to be paid in advance. So they make out the draft in blank and fill it in when you fellows make up your minds how much to sting ’em.” “IT see. And then what happens?” ““Gee, you are new, ain’t yuh? Well, when you get the B L—bill o’ lading, y’ know—you bring it to us an’ we pin it to the draft and mail it to our Guay’quil correspondent. They hold it till the con- signee comes in an’ settles. Then they give h'm the B Lan’ he can get the goods. See?”’ “T see. And the bank down there sends you the money and you pay the shipper “ a The clerk winked. ‘“‘Not! It costs money to ship gold. The bank down there puts the amount to our credit and we sell drafts against it to people that have got bills to pay down there. Course there may be a difference, one way or the other, an’ that means gold shipments. But it gen- erally cancels out pretty well.” “Where's your profit, then?” was interested in earnest now. “You leave that to us. Mighty few bankers die in the poorhouse for neglectin’ profits.” The clerk sniggered. ‘‘ We charge at both ends. Shipper has to pay us for getting his cash of course. And same when some- body wants a draft. Then there’s the vari- ation in exchange too. Suppose there’s only ten dollars to our credit—I mean to the whole country’s credit, not the bank’s down there at Guay’quil, an’ somebody’s got to pay a bill of a hundred down there. Supply an’ demand works—price goes up. Balance of trade, y’ understand.” “T guess I get it.’’ Fraser’s mind worked at the problem. “Then, sometimes, a draft like this is worth more than its face 1 “Sure! That’s our velvet, but don’t say I told you. We get a draft for five hundred dollars. That’s all the shipper wants. If we can sell it for five ten, that’s our affair.” “But suppose you can’t—suppose it’s the other way?” “All the worse for the lad at the other end. He’s got to pay the five hundred plus whatever it costs to clear the payment through. The shipper gets his money either way.” Fraser carried away the stirring embryo of an idea. There must be a substantial profit in this end of the business which Drew wasn’t getting because the bank handled the drafts. Suppose, instead of sending the draft to the bank, the shipper could be induced to send it to the forward- ers. Then they could sell it to whatever bank would pay best. Fraser THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 133 He thought it over that afternoon and spoke to Ann about it in the evening. She laughed. “Yes. But what good would that do you and me? Drew’d get the profits.” “That’s so. But it’d help one way— we'd be handling some real money. That | draft to-day was for eight thousand odd. Our end of it comes to something like | twenty-five!” “Something in that. But still we’d have | Drew in-the way of any play we might want to make.” “T wonder if he’d sell out. He’s getting along—and he looked mighty sick to-day. He’s been whining about going South too. We could make a quick play somewhere else ——”’ “No. That’s where you'd go wrong again. But your idea’s all right except for that. He might sell. Let me work it.” ““Where’s the money coming from?” “Leave that to me, too. D’you think I’ve been living this way for six years with- | out saving anything? And I had a bit to start with. Father wasn’t broke when he died.” He stared. ‘“‘You mean you've got real money put away?” “Of course I have. You need capital in this business the same as any other.” “You’re a wonder! Living this way, when you could cut loose and take it easy.”’ “For how long? Two or three years, | And then have to do it all over | again! Notforme. When I quit I’m going | maybe. to quit for keeps.” The intensity of her purpose strength- ened his growing awe of her. She had looked so far ahead that she had saved—he did not try to guess the amount, but it must be respectable if she hoped to buy out | Drew. Again he congratulated himself on the luck that had put him in her care. Lou Whitcomb’s daughter! Her father would be proud of her, all right. She justified his faith by her dealings with Drew. Yankee though he was, she out- generaled him. He could retire with a half interest in the profits and eight thousand in cash or he could find somebody else to help him while she and Fraser went into competition with the eight thousand for capital. It took two weeks to convince him, but he was beaten from the first. “T might have known it,”’ he mourned, half jesting. “‘If I ever goin business again you don’t catch me hiring anybody’t saves the way you two do. It ain’t safe.” He departed presently for some Florida resort. The sign on the door was changed by the addition of Thompson & Whittaker to the original style; letterheads and forms were surcharged in red with the new head- ing. And Fraser Thompson, in a new suit, made a hasty trip to interview the inland shippers on the firm’s books. “You've been losing money on every draft you’ve sent through your banks,” was the text of his story. “‘They’re charging you a commission, aren’t they? Well, let us handle them after this, and we'll guar- antee you the face or better, net. There’s no reason why you shouldn't take the profit when the exchange is in your favor instead of giving it to a bank.” He came back smiling. It had worked beautifully. The shippers were properly indignant at what seemed unfair profiteer- ing on the part of their bankers, duly grateful to the upright young man who had opened their eyes without seeking to keep the profits for himself. “We'll be handling real money now,”’ he told Ann Whittaker. ‘All we’ve got to do is to spot a way of lifting enough at one throw to make it worth while. And I guess you cari trust me to do that, eh?” She nodded. “Anyway we oughtn’t to lose,"’ she said. “‘We got the business pretty cheap.” He snapped his fingers. ‘‘ Pocket money! When we clean up on this play, Ann, it ought to run into six figures.” She looked interested. ‘‘I don’t see that, so far. We can’t pad the drafts or the con- signee would refuse to pay. We can’t hold out the proceeds, when the drafts are honored, more than a little while, or the shipper’ll want to know - a “You wait. I'll fix it somehow. This is going to be good. I feel it coming.” The effect of the innovation was to in- crease their work so appreciably that they had to hire others—a bookkeeper and clerk for the office and a young fellow to do some of Fraser’s work. Ann Whittaker managed the office and correspondence, and Fraser, __wizare— working harder than he would have be- | ' lieved he could, did the rest. Dancers, be careful | of your feet! Dancing puts a very severe strain on one’s feet. Try standing on your toes for a minute and notice how tired your feet become. | j During an evening’s dance, the feet must stand this strain hundreds of times. If pains develop in the toes, arches, ankle, calf, knee, thigh, hip or back, look to your feet for the trouble. There is probably a distortion of one of the bones which form the arch in the ball of your foot. ‘‘Morton’s toe”’ often results from dancing. The distorted arch can be restored to normal, and more serious trouble averted, by wearing Wizard Adjustable Lightfoot Arch Builders, Beneath these all-leather Arch Builders and Callous | Relievers are overlapping pockets, so located that inserts of any desired thickness can be placed in exactly the right spot to support the dislocated bones in normal position. Adjustments are simply made by shifting inserts or changing their thickness. Being all leather, Wizard Lightfoot Adjustable Arch Builders and Callous Relievers are light, flexible and are worn without one being conscious of them. Wizard Lightfoot Arch Builders and Callous Relievers are sold by leading dealers everywhere. Usually where they are sold there is an expert who has made a study of fitting them. If there is no such dealer near you, write the Wizard Lightfoot Appliance Company 1719 Locust Street, St. Louis, Mo., or 950 Marbridge Bldg., New York City. European Headquarters:—-Central Chambers, South Castle Street, Liverpool, England. Ask for “Orthopraxy of the Foot"’—a simple treatise on foot troubles. No charge. ay — CLCHTZOOT SU BUILDERS ARCH ALL LEATHER soa, —— a Ws ee HEFI LEVELER CALLOUS RELIEVER ARCH BUILDER

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OO THE SATURDAY rrr Litit San aan nanan nnn Rn oe | biti iN bLiiiiil Town & Country Sheep-Lined Coats E = For the man who desires the 4= = advantages of a fur-lined coat. ‘= = This coat combines good style, long = = service and absolute protection from = Fj the coldest weather under all i= ES" | circumstances. — - | = | The Universal Garment for Out 0’ Doors = is] \1 L GOOD WRITE POR STYLI —J Ly CLOTHING STORI BOOKLET S-54 she ys = = GUITERMAN BROS. ‘= = SAINT PAUL, U.S.A. — oe Originators and manufacturers of wind-proof and cold-resisting clothing 4 —{ | is — ‘ a Ta aT a | — —e Viva’ x LAT a a a i — EVENING POST But except for a slowly growing volume of business, their revenues did not increase, and the added expense cut into profits. Even Ann grew restless as the days passed in a blur of frantic labor and no sign of any big opportunity rewarded them. “We've got to get some bigger accounts, that’s all,” said Fraser finally. ‘These fellows aren't ever going to ship in big enough quantities to make it pay us to grab a few drafts and quit. I’m going after some of the real ones, Ann.” He managed to arrange his work so that he could leave for a day or two together. He could get as far west as Cleveland and Pittsburgh in a night’s journey, spend the day in soliciting new business and be back at work the second morning. But it was slow work, even with his new proposition to offer as bait. “I’ve got to find something better,”” he admitted. “This isn't getting us any- where.” “It can’t be too soon for me,” said the girl. Her tone struck him through his inat- tention, weary, with none of her old resolu tion. He glanced at her. She was thinner, he thought, and strangely less aggressive in her self-certainty. He saw an unfamiliar droop of eye and lip and neck. “T'll hit it yet, Ann. Don’t quit—you were right. There’s something big in this game. I'll find it.”’ “Maybe.” She shrugged. “I guess I counted too much on that imagination of yours. There isn't anything here except honest money.” “Honest money! wait!” It came to him afterward that they had exchariged positions. He was stronger now, wiser, more determined. And he fancied that Ann Whittaker thought so too. He laughed. ‘You iv HE great idea came unheralded. He sat staring out at the traffic, stunned by the simplicity of the thing. At first it seemed impossible—it couldn't be as easy as that. He'd put it up to Ann. If there was a hole in it she’d see it. Trust her for that. She looked up as he came into her tiny private office. It was time they cleaned up and quit, he told himself. She couldn't stand this much longer. **Ann, I think I've got it.” He had a trick of lowering his voice for emphasis, learned in his adventures on the amateur stage. He saw her straighten, saw her eyes freeze in the old queer way he remembered. “You know that most of our drafts have been turned over for collection. The bank pays when it gets advices from its foreign correspondent that the drawee has settled. That keeps us from padding the figures any. But now and then we've been able to sell one for cash. I always supposed that it was because the buyer wanted it extra bad, but it just came to me that I was wrong. They'll cash a draft when the firm that signs it is known to be good for the amount! Do you see?” “T don’t see what that’s got to do with it. It’s the drawee who matters. If he can’t or won't pay, the draft’s no good.” She drooped again. He chuckled. “Guess again. I’ve been a nut not to see it long ago. It doesn’t matter who the drawee is, so long as the drawer is good for the amount. If the draft isn’t paid the buyer can collect from the maker. If we drew a check on a bank where we didn’t have funds enough to meet it and cashed it at our own bank, what would happen? When it came back unpaid our bank would collect from us, wouldn't it? It’s the same way with these drafts.” “Well?” She was still listless. “Well, that’s the beginning. What we’ve got to do is to get business from firms who rate AAAI. It doesn’t matter so much whether they’re big shippers or not, so long as their credit is above suspicion. And we can get it by this same bait I’ve been hold- ing out—cash on the spot for their drafts, at the full exchange rate. I know I can get it. I've got three or four so far.” “Yes. But what of it? There’s nothing in it,evenso. Either they fill out the drafts themselves or they attach invoices and bills of lading which show the value of the ship- ment. If the amount’s left open we still haven't a chance to raise them much.” He chuckled. ‘“There’s where the big idea comes in. We don’t attach the bills of lading at all. We fill out their drafts for as | much as we like. We leave the rest of the November 20,1920 documents right here in the shop. I go out and sell the paper for what I can get. Just as if they were drawing against matured obligations abroad, you know. The buyer isn’t taking any risk. He knows the firm’s good for the face of the draft. That’s all he cares about.” He saw the old sharpness in her face now. “You're right! You've hit it. I always knew you would. When can we ——” “No hurry, Ann. A crook in a hurry isa cheap crook, you told me. We're going to do this right. We're going to line up a squad of big firms first of all. Then we’re going to nurse ‘em along till we’ve got drafts from all or most of ’em on the same day. Then the big killing and the get-away and the live-happy-ever-after line—Mo- rocco or Honduras, where they don’t know what extradition means.” She smiled thinly. “All right. But don’t be any slower about it than you must. I don’t know how much more of this I’m good for.” An unexpected tenderness softened his exultant mood. “Don’t you weaken, Ann. It’s going to be worth working for this time. You've been a wonder all the way through. If it hadn't been for you 6 He stopped, realizing. If it hadn’t been for Ann Whittaker he’d have tried to plunder some traveler’s baggage, risked going back to the pen within twelve hours of his release! He'd never have learned the first principles of the big game. He owed her pretty nearly everything. “T’ll square it with you somehow,” he finished. ‘‘You—you've been great, Ann. When I think what a wild idiot I was when you took hold of me a “You can get the Century, if you jump,” she interrupted. “Better try Cleveland first. Take two days, or three if it looks good. We'll keep things going while you're gone. You can deliver the rest of that speech when there’s nothing better to do.” He went out, laughing. The same old Ann—not a scrap of sentiment in her! A business woman, first and last and in be- tween. He sobered a little. Lucky for Tom Fraser that she was. If it hadn't been for her —— Vv HE eight slips of paper spread on Tom Fraser's desk put a queer stuttering skip into his pulses as he surveyed them. Eight drafts, each signed by a firm worth better than a million, according to the com- mercial agencies. Each one of them drawn against a big commercial point—three against London, two on Paris, one each on Barcelona, Buenos Aires and Rio. And the amount in every case left blank so that Drew, Thompson & Whittaker might fill it out to cover insurance and freight as well as the face of the invoices! He felt entitled to a little delay, to savor the triumph in advance. He'd worked hard enough to rest a minute or two and let his imagination run ahead to the years of easy leisure before him. Worked? The word didn’t express it. He’d slaved, schemed, sweated, waited—why, if it came to a couple of hundred thousand he’d have just about earned it! Funny how the easy money made you work, very much as you had to work for your wages. He let his thought run over the list of his competitors. Not one of them had ever put in six such months as lay behind him. Even old Drew, for all his industry, hadn’t ever held his long Yankee nose to the grindstone like that. He grinned at the thought of the shrewd sly old man, pottering away at roque in some low-priced winter resort, thinking he'd driven a good bargain. Drew—why, this would break him of course. He was still a partner in the firm, and the firm would be blown up like a paper bag, and burst, when those drafts came back. They’d take Drew's private property away from him. Somehow the thought took the edge from his pleasure. He hadn’t considered that side of it at all. It would have been better to buy Drew out entirely or organize the firm as a corporation. It seemed a pity that the old fellow should lose all he’d made in a lifetime of hard honest labor. Of course the real victims, the firms whose drafts would come back on their hands, could afford it easily enough. He had no compassion for them. But Drew—he could see the sly old fellow now, humped over this very desk, whimsically regretting hav- ing hired Yankees! (Concluded on Page 137) es —

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST T - a ) In SYSTEM for December } What is behind good selling? Getting ready fora buyer’s market? Overhauling the sales department ? \ And what else ? That’s what George Ed. Smith, president of the Royal | Typewriter Co., writes about in { | System for December. There’s something for the smallest depart- ment in the business to do. And he tells how his business does it. Conferences that get } \y somewhere You know the other kind; you’ve 1) 3 been in them. Here are some ideas bt that several businesses are using to keep their conferences on the track. } Photographs of five business meet ings that move at fair speed, with- out Roberts’ Rules of Order. Men wh O look beyond f Reducing need for credit Not more credit to do business on, h e b 7 but less credit business, is the need W of manufacturer,wholesaler, dealer, t eir O n usiness \ according to Geo. N. Peek, pres \ ident, Moline Plow ‘Co. In De . cember System he applies the YOU remember the man who was so war-taught lesson of straight-line ‘ i methods to present-day financing. close to the trees he couldn t see the What does the noon-hour forest. Some men are like that in business. cost you? | L.. S. Ayres & Co. found an unex P ; — Sa | pected growth in company meal But many look beyond their own bust- f after their cafeteria was started. — + oe .@ . a " > | saber ey seca agp oe ness. They see what others are doing. They } gives interesting facts and figures. find and use the ideas and plans which ‘‘Men I like to work for’’ You'd like to see yourself as your employees see you; they won’t tell make other businesses pay. you always about the little things SYSTEM 1stheir magazine. They contrib- : that may or may not gain their con : 7 " fidence and respect. In System a ute to it; they read if. i thoughtful secretary tells frankly of - D, her experiences with employers. 4 F ; Get SysteM for December. Read ‘Why b Why they cut their sales force . . py a ‘ y ; Phoenix Mutual,of Hartford,found we cannot have a panic, by Governor the way to more sales was through Harding of the Federal Reserve Board. fewer salesmen. It was an experi- ; ; ; ‘ c » . " ‘ ment at first, but in System for Read ‘‘What is behind good selling,” by December, Winslow Russell, vice ~ ‘ — ; att president, tells how well the plan George Ed. Smith, president Royal I ype- nes paid and why. writer Co. At news-stands; 25 cents. Cheaper distribution in St. Paul Postmaster Raths suggested it; us ing the mail for retailers’ deliverie ' So well did it work, 90° of pack { ages formerly delivered are now A mailed at one-half the expense, 5° ‘ P } of the complaints. SysTEM sent a “The Magazine of Business M ‘representativ e to test the speed ot j the new’service. His report is in } the December issue. Published by A. W. SHAW COMPANY, © ag New York, Lon P shers ais ot FACTORY and of SY TEM ON THE FARM

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136 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 Years ago they killed by dripping water fet a ween BAT) The constant repetition of slight shocks exhausts the nervous system MONG the most dreaded A punishments of the Mid- dle Ages was the famous water torture. The victim was placed in a stone chair and the spigot of a water cask suspended above him was opened slightly, so that every second or two a drop of water escaped and fell upon his head. and floors wear you out. If you are a man of average ac- tivity, you take 8,000 steps a day —suffer 8,000 shocks to the nerv- ous system. Though each shock is small in itself, its constant repe- tition is a severe drain upon your energy—one of the serious causes of fatigue. Remove this cause of fatigue Stop this useless expenditure of energy. Eliminate the constant jolts and jars of pounding hard heels on harder pavements. O’Sul- For the first few moments the victim scarcely felt the gentle shocks. But their constant repe- tition soon broke down all resist- ance. It took only a few hours of this carefully calculated punishment to reduce the strongest man to utter nervous exhaustion. In employing this water torture, the medieval mind displayed surprising knowledge of a fundamental weak- ness of the nervous system: the constant repetition of slight shocks will exhaust it. Over three hundred years have passed since the horrors of the Middle Ages—yet today many Ameri- inflicting upon themselves a punishment which is the same in principle. cans are Like the continued shocks of the dripping water in the sombre torture chamber, the constant shocks that come from pounding old-fashioned leather heels or “‘dead”’ rubber heels on hard streets, sidewalks O’Sullivan’s Heels - Absorb the shocks that tire you out The Water Chair—a form of torture of the Middle Ages livan’s Heels absorb the shocks that tire you out. To secure the resiliency, the springiness of O’Sullivan’s Heels, the highest grades of rubber are blended by special formula. With this blend of live, springy rubber are compounded the best toughening agents known. The compound is then “cured’’ or baked under high pressure. The same process that makes O’Sullivan’s Heels resilient gives them their great durability. O’Sullivan’s Heels outlast three pairs of leather heels—they often outlast two pairs of ordinary rubber heels. Stop pounding away your energy. Go to your shoe repairer today and have O’Sullivan’s Heels put on your shoes. With every step on hard heels you are pounding away your energy

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(Conctuded from Page 134) Well, it couldn’t be helped. After they’d cleaned up they could manage to send Drew He'd have to go through bank- iptey anyway. Once he was discharged anything he got would belong to him. That would be the best way. They could get word to him not to worry. He drew a pad toward him and began to calculate. The three London drafts were all against big houses. He could make them almost any size he chose without rousing suspicion. And sterling exchange was active too—plenty of ready buyers for paper like that. Suppose he made them for two fifteens and a twenty—odd figures, of pounds, shillings and pence. Fifty thousand on London; not enough. He somet} ir g course couldn’t risk such heavy drafts on any other point Suppose he took a bigger chance—say seventy-five thousand. The five others would hardly foot up to more than that at the outside limits. A hundred and fifty thousand, all told, if the luck was good Divide it by two—half for Ann. Seventy-five thousand for his share. Some- how it didn’t seem as big asit had. Seventy- five thousand at, say, four per cent—three thousand a year. Why, his share of the business profits ought to be twenty-five hundred, at the inside, this year, And the business was growing. To be sure, he wouldn’t have to work for the three thousand. Just lie back and col- lect it. And live easy, over there in Mo- rocco—or Honduras. Tropics—hammocks swung in the shadow of stone courts—per- petual summer. Still, three thousand wasn’t such a lot when you figured it out. Probably cost more to live in those out-of- the-way corners too, Company of course. Must be plenty of other people there for more reasons than their health. Bank cashiers and embezzlers anc stock fraud high-grade crooks, not like the shambling, slant-eyed rascals up the river. There’d be good fun—no danger of being lonesome, But—the word kept crowding back into his mind, But. That was it. There were two sides to this thing after all. Drew for one. And Ann Whittaker. He hadn't thought of her side yet. She thought she wanted this easy money—this money they ‘d slaved and schemed for. But did she—at the price? She’d never seen the inside of those wet walls up there between the railroad and the river. She didn’t know what it meant to be a crook if some- thing went wrong And suppose nothing did? Suppose they got away with it safely? Was she going to like Morocco or Honduras such a lot after all? He saw himself suddenly as in some sense responsible for her; and he shrank back from the vision. It was all right for a man to take a chance on strjpes, to cut himself off; but a girl, even a girl like Ann, was something very different. He frowned at the eight blank drafts, potential loot such as he had dreamed about. Big money, easy money, his for the mere taking. A roundabout revenge on the world which had made a crook of him. Suddenly he got to his feet and took the slips from the desk. He went into Ann’s office. “We've got enough to risk it, Ann. Fight, all extra-good ones. And we'd have three d safe—to get away. There’s a boat for Honduras in the morning.” She faced him. He saw her stiffen, saw the lips press tight and the eyes half close, as if to hide the cold light in them. “‘How much are they good for?” “Perhaps a hundred and fifty thousand.”’ He spoke evenly. “‘We only wanted a hun- dred, but somehow this doesn’t seem such an awful lot, now it’s in reach.” She laughed. ‘“‘ Your ideas have changed. Haven’t you learned how much work there ; in a thousand yet? It looks pretty big tome. When do you cash in?” He hesitated. “‘I wanted to talk it over first. Somehow I don’t feel right about it, altogether. It’s going to smash Drew, you know. It’s a partnership, and they'll take whatever he’s got 3 “That's his lookout, isn’t it?’ He had never heard her voice so cold and harsh. THE SATURDAY “You aren’t getting soft at this stage of the game, are you, Tom?” “I don't know. Maybe. I—I’ve got sort of fond of Drew, since he hasn't been round here. He was pretty white to us in his own way.” “His way, yes! His way of being white was to pay us half what we earned and work us till we dropped! I’m not worrying about him.” “Well, Iam. And I’m worrying more about you, Ann. You haven’t been through what I have. You've never been a crook yet. And if anything slips—well, I'd hate | to let you in for - “Stuff! Whose idea was it in the first place? Who got you into it? Who found the money to get Drew out of the way? You talk as if I hadn’t done anything!” Her impatience roused an unsuspected obstinacy in him. He shook his head. “Tt isn’t that. You’ve done everything But I feel as if—as if I'd be doing it all now—as if I'd be making a crook of you, Ann, all by myself, for my own profit. And [ hate it. I hate it, I tell you!” She eyed him steadily. “Losing you nerve, Tom? Quitting, just when we've got our hands on the game? What about me? Haven't I earned my share of it? Are you going to go back on me now?” He brought his fist down hard on the desk, and his voice sank, in his old trick of emphasis: “No—I’'m not going back on you. That’s the whole thing! I’m going to stand by | you the way you stood by me when I was a raw bleating fool of a kid. You kept me from smashing myself then and I’m going to keep you from it now. A fool? Why, Ann, don’t you see that we'd be the silliest fools on earth to go through with this? Leave out every other consideration and look at the money alone—we can have four | or five thousand a year if we’re lucky and get away clean. And right here in our hands we've got a business that’s paying us practically that right now. And we've hardly begun to cash in on the work I've done. These new accounts—every one of them developing—the banking end of it why, we can make ten or fifteen thousand a year out of it in five years’ time— make it honestly, without having to run and hide before we spend it!” He laughed. “You've called me names pretty often, Ann. I had ’em coming to me too. But it’s my turn now. You're the fool this time. So is every crook! And I ean prove it. He chooses the losing end every time. The work and brains it takes to put over a winning crooked play would pay bigger on the square. You stopped me that day when I was all set to make a double ass of myself for some fellow’s silver- plated hairbrushes. Well, I’m stopping you now. You're not going to be a fool Ann. And that means you're not going to be a crook. They’re the same darn thing!”’ He stared as she came to her feet. Some thing in her face frightened him. She had never looked like this. He had a moment of blank fear that she would cry. The idea of Ann Whittaker in tears was curiously appalling. “Oh, Tom! I wondered if you'd ever ever see it!” He saw it now, saw what she had done to him, and a hot torment of shame pos- sessed him. He had strutted and preached to Ann! Ann, who had waited for him at the very prison door, had planned and plotted for him, cajoled and prodded him inch by inch along the path he had thought his own discovery! His mind flashed back to the parting in Simpson’s office; and the old puzzling mystery challenged him again. She had been glad, then—glad that he was a fool and a thief. And yet she had slaved and schemed to save him from greater sin and folly. Why? He forced his eyes back to hers. And the answer came to him with a great throbbing rush of understanding Lou Whitcomb’s daughter—the sins of the fathers—glad because Tom Fraser had crossed the line between them. He put out his hands. It seemed as if he saw her now for the first time. EVENING POST sé Ty Ps . * / ®, y What shall I give Him: You've racked your brain over the question with every return of the Yuletide season. Here's an answer—it’s “Braxton!” Braxton is the belt for men—a belt with merits that make it prized by every wearer, holidays and all days. Make him a present of the Braxton, and he will esteem your thoughtfulness every day of the year. The Braxton is a plus belt— you'll say as much your- self when you see it. It is specially shaped to fit the body comfortably and naturally —it doesn’t have to be drawn so tightly as ordinary belts; it supports the trousers more smartly. The Braxton is made in many rich leathers, finely tanned and finished, and fitted with that you can attach any style of buckle you may desire. Each Braxton is also packed in a trim box — the kind of a box a man de- snaps so Secure his waist THIS 1S A CENUINE measure — then get PRODUCT him a Braxton. At y all the better shops BRAXTON THE [3 Ie LT FoR Men PATENTED lights to open on Christmas morning.

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST | MOSCOW’S BID FOR WORLD POWER (Continued from Page 7)

+ 4 ee ees (<6 = 6.9618 O's eles

. o “=a Doone “es = “225;

PIAHERE is a Areh Amit to price in shoes beyond which Azgh price buys only superfluous quality. There is a 4w /imit to price below WW hich eT UT eable quality cannot be produced, You will find the wfmest in Ralstons at a medium price—a price that insures the balanced essentials. Write for the name of the Ralston dealer in your neighborhood RALSTON HEALTH SHOEMAKERS BROCKTON (Campello), MASS. 7

in a tempest of worid revolution, and upon the ruins of the organization of human life thus destroyed there must be upreared an international soviet republic. Such is Lenine’s analysis. Though it lays emphasis on the general conclusions, it also brings out prominently the fact that the world is not uniform so far as its funda- mental conditions are concerned, and there- fore the approach to the problem of the world revolution cannot be the same. So for purposes of active operations we find that in the strategic plans of the Com munist International the world is divided into two general classes: First, those coun- tries which have a fair degree of industrial development, and consequently more or less numerous industrial proletariat and socialist or labor political parties—in this class are included all the countries which, | . . ’ . ° | according to Lenine’s classification, are at the controlling end of the world imperial- istic system as outlined by him, and some of the economically dependent countries; and, second, all of the colonial and practi- cally all of the semicolonial countries. In other words, roughly speaking, the first group would be the West and the second group the East. In each of the countries comprised in the first class there are two principal move- ments which can serve as the foundation for the work of the communists. The first is political —viz., that which finds expression in the socialist and the labor parties. The second is economic, expressing itself in labor organizations, irrespective of whether they are or are not under the influence of the political parties, or are even anti- political in their character. In such countries there must be, first of all, preparatory work, consisting of agita- tion and propaganda designed to make the masses of the proletariat look with favor and hope upon communism, and distrust everything that is not bound up with com- munism and everybody who does not preach communism. As far as the political parties are concerned, this can be done by compelling them to lose their present iden- tity and take on certain new characteristics prescribed from Moscow. It goes without saying that they must renounce entirely the Socialist International as reconstructed in Bern. But besides this, they must accept a set of conditions worked out at the Second Congress of the Communist Inter- national. The conditions presented to the French Socialist Party cover all the points exacted by Moscow The Moscow Dictatorship The French Socialist Party is accused of a number of crimes and oversights. Its group in the parliament does not carry on revolutionary activity and expose the criminal acts of the government, particu- larly with regard to its colonial policy. The party does not call upon the workmen to arm themselves, and its press does not agitate in favor of a proletarian revolution. The party’s work among the peasants and the soldiers is of a very mild character, and its attitude toward the trade unions is full of indecision. It is demanded of the party that it change all this. It must immediately change its name to the French Communist Party. It must begin agitation among the workmen with a view of proving to them that militarism can be destroyed only through an overthrow of the capitalistic governments by means of a violent revolu- tion. It must compel its parliamentary group to recognize entirely the will of the party and become subordinate to it, carry- ing out all its orders and making the parliament an instrument of revolutionary agitation. It must expel from its membership all those who preach reforms instead of rev- olution and who refuse to follow the revolutionary path. It must organize its work openly and secretly, through legal and illegal organizations. And finally it must recognize absolutely the obligatory nature of all the decisions made in Moscow by the Communist International. In short, it is demanded that the French Socialist Party lose entirely its own iden- | tity and become an agent of the Moscow | International, a blind tool in its hands,

November 20,1920 pledged to carry out implicitly all the orders received from Moscow. Precisely the same kind of pledges are demanded of all the socialist parties in Western Europe and America. But it is clear that under their present leadership these parties would be com- mitting suicide were they to submit to these demands. The Moscow leaders understand this, and their method is to appeal to the rank and file of the parties, over the heads of the leaders when they cannot intimidate the leaders into carrying their appeals themselves. A socialist party presenting a solid front in the relations be- tween the leaders and the masses is im- pervious to communism. The task of the communists then is to introduce an ele- ment of disintegration, break up the parties into layers, set the masses against the leaders. In this work, according to their own statements, they have already suc- ceeded to some extent in France, Germany, England, Italy, in most of the other coun- tries of Western Europe, and in the United States, Yet the socialist and the labor parties, even in the most advanced countries of the world, comprise in their membership but a small part of the working class and extend their influence over but comparatively few workmen. A much wider influence is exerted by the labor organizations, the trade unions, the industrial and syndicalist organizations. Most of these are far from being communistic or even faintly 80- cialistic. Nevertheless, the task of winning them over is an important one, since they represent the masses of the industrial popu- lation. The labor movement constitutes the second point of attack in the com- munist work in the West. The New Classification So Important is the question of labor or- ganizations considered in Moscow that the very first sitting of the new executive com- mittee was devoted to working out the di- rections to be given to delegates for their work in the trade unions. According to these instructions, based on the reports made to the congress and the resolutions adopted by the congress, the labor organi- zations must be revolutionized, led to drop their present leaders and accept new, revolutionary leaders. Since in most coun- tries the majority of the workmen remain outside of the uniohs, every effort possible should be made to organize new unions and bring them also under the influence of com- munist leaders. Just as in the problem of the political parties, that of the trade unions should be attacked both nation- ally—in the manner indicated above—and internationally. There exists to-day an international association of labor unions in the form of the Amsterdam Federation of Trade Unions. In order to counteract the work of this body a Red International of Trade Unions was recently established in Moscow. It includes the Russian trade unions and a part of the trade unions of Italy, Germany, England, France and Bul- garia. The task of the Communist Inter- national is to lead the trade-union groups of various countries away from the Amster- dam Federation and into the fold of the Mescow Red International. The most important single act of the July-August Congress of the Communist International was the Resolution on the Role of the Communist Party in the Pro- letarian Revolution. It is a lengthy docu- ment, which, however, states with clearness and abundance of detail the methods of work which should be performed in the cause of communism. For purposes of the revolution the labor movement which must culminate in it is no longer divided, according to this resolu- tion, into its former classical triple classifi- cation—namely, the political party, the professional and trade unions and the coép- eratives. The new classification, adopted by communism, is the party, the soviets and the productive unions. There are two main differences between the two classifi- cations. In the first place, the classical classification presupposes the labor move- ment as one of the movements in the state; it is therefore limited only to one class. (Continued on Page 141)

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A At lt, Se ce See What Happens when you brush teeth in this new way Five desired effects Five things happen every time you brush teeth in this new way which dentists now advise. The salivary flow is multiplied. That is Nature's great tooth protecting agent. The starch digestant in saliva is multiplied. That is to quickly digest the starch deposits which otherwise cling and form acid The alkalinity of the saliva is multiplied. That is to neutralize the acids which cause tooth decay. The film-coat is attacked in two efficient ways. The teeth are so highly polished that film cannot easily adhere. Three aids to Nature Three effects are simply aids to Nature. They would come through diet if you ate much fruit. But they must come regularly to prevent acid attacks on teeth. Ce ema Ge Cow REG. U ME. BLE large tubes. fF SL. SLT AT PAT. O psaden ‘Tie New-Day Dentifrice A scientific film combatant which brings five desired effects. Approved by authorities and now advised by leading dentists everywhere. Supplied by druggists in Pepsodent brings them twice daily, what- ever the diet. It combats the starch and starch effects when diet fails to do so. Film—the great enemy But the still greater object is to fight film, the cause of most tooth troubles. Film is that viscous coat you feel. It is ever-present, ever- forming. It clings to teeth, enters crevices and stays. It is the film-coat that discolors, not the teeth. Film is the basis of tartar. It holds food substance which ferments and forms acid. It holds the acid in contact with the teeth to cause decay. Millions of germs breed in it, and many seri ous troubles, local and internal, are now traced to them. A many-year problem Film has for many years been a great den- tal problem. Careful people have dentists re move it twice yearly. But there are months between when it may do a ceaseless damage THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 139 So dental science has been seeking a daily film combatant. Efficient methods have now been found and proved by ample tests. These methods are embodied in Pepsodent. Thus all these five desired effects are now secured by this one application. We supply it free Pepsodent is now advised by leading den- tists everywhere. Millions of people daily employ it, largely through this advice. The results are evident wherever you look, particularly in glistening teeth. A 10-Day Tube is being sent to everyone who asks. Also a book which tells the rea- son for each unique result. This is to urge that you send for that tube. Watch the effects, learn their meaning, judge them for yourself. Then consider what they mean to you and yours. Based on years of research Pepsodent is based on years of research Its principles have been evolved by some of the ablest authorities. It accords with the best modern dental opinion. Its effects are now regarded as essential to proper tooth protection. So everyone should make this test. See how the teeth improve What you see and feel will then decide your proper course. Cut out the coupon now The visible effects Note how clean the teeth feel after using. Mark the absence of the viscous film See how teeth whiten as the film-coat disappears. Then let the book explain results les evident to you. 10 -Day Tube F ae THE PEPSODENT COMPANY, Dept. 106, 1104 S. Wabash Ave., Chicago, Ill Mail 10-Day Tube of Pepsodent to

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140 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 nae S ‘ - ee . oe" Pe AX * z y toy r f age ie @ Old sperm lamps were inefficient, costly and insanitary. Electric lights and paper towels are kindred con- veniences of this healthier age. The sure cleanliness of Northern paper towels recommends them even more than their convenience and low cost. «| Choose the paper towel because it is hygienic. Soft, sturdy, quickly absorbent—for the scientific drying of human skin— the Northern paper towel is supremely sanitary and cheap. Made at Green Bay, Wisconsin, by the Northern Paper Mills, also manufacturers of fine bathroom papers. Novia PAPER TOWELS l A A em ei el

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— a a — ee -_ —— (Continued from Page 138) The communist classification presupposes a condition of affairs in which that one class becomes the only class in the state, really the state itself. In the second place, in conformity with the above, in the clas- sical classification the three forms are practically independent of each other, though working for a common end. Inthe communist classification the three forms are closely correlated and strictly subordi- nated to each other. In this communist classification the so- viets express the political activity of society; the productive unions express all of man’s economic activity. Over them both, cantealiing and directing them, is the Communist Party. The Communist Party is described in the resolution as “‘a part of the working class, its most adv bed. oy class-conscious an d consequently most revolutionary part.’ It must not by any means be considered identical with the working class as a whole. On the contrary, we are told in the reso- lution that ‘‘the idea of the party should be strictly differentiated from the idea of the class.’”” Nor should it be a party of the masses, the admission to which should be open to all workmen. The Communist Party is conceived of as a restricted and closed corporation, a sort of an order of priesthood. It is definitely spoken of as a party of the minority; for until com- munism shall have become firmly estab- lished, “‘the Communist Party will have in its ranks only a minority of the pro- letariat.”’ The Communist Party must preserve this oligarchical character not only before and during the social revolution, but also after the revolution; in the first instance in order to organize victory, in the second in order to consolidate it. After all that we have heard from the apologists of the soviet régime in Russia concerning the democratic and representa- tive nature of communism, this frank and insistent avowal of the minority and oligarchical nature of the Communist Party, coming from no less an authoritative source than the Congress of the Commu- nist International itself, must be something of a revelation. But even that is not all. We have been told by these same apologists that the soviets are representative bodies in which the party of the majority has the controlling ae. The Communist Inter- national has a different conception of the role of the soviets. The resolution of which we speak notes that the soviets, though presumably expressing the will of those whom they represent, may sometimes fail in thinking along communist lines; in other words, using the terminology of communism, the soviets may become reac- tionary. Since this is so, says the resolu- tion, the Communist Party must in all cases be placed above the soviets, and must control and direct them. Democratic Centralism Now what should be the nature and the work of the Communist Party itself? First, during the period preceding the revolution. In each country there must be but one Communist Party. If there are several at the present time they must unite. Orders to this effect have already been issued from Moscow, and these orders con- cern particularly the merger of the Com- munist and the Communist Labor Parties in the United States, a similar merger in Great Britain and in other countries. All the other labor political parties must be either discredited and destroyed, or else ab- sorbed in the Communist Party after being purged of ali their noncommunist elements. The basis of organization and of the whole work is 4 formation of communist groups. In the language of the resolution, “wherever there is even a small number of proletarians or semiprole tarians, in every ee of workmen’s deputies, in every pro- fessional or trade union, in every house or factory committee, in every codperative or- ganization, in every shop— in short, in every place where at least three persons can be found who are in sympathy with commu- nism, a communist group should be organ- ized.”’ The creation of these communist nucleuses should not be limited only to labor organizations. They should be es- tablished wherever men come together for common work. Work of this character should be carried on in the parliaments, in the armies, even in organizations of clearly reactionary character. To use a very vivid expression employed by N. Bukharin in the THE SATURDAY presentation to the congress of a separate resolution on parliamentarism, “even in | the most reactionary organization, in the | most active capitalistic institutions of ex- ploitation, we’’—the Communist Party— | “must have our own men, or, if we can express it so, our spies.” | All these local organizations must be | subordinated to the party as a whole, or | rather to the guiding center of the party. | The basis of party organization should be | that of democratic centralism. That is a | term in the nomenclature of communism which simply means rigidly sustained hier- archy. It means a pyramid of power in which the organizations closest to the people vote for those immediately above them and obey these latter imphecitly. Or- ganizations on the second stage vote for those on the third, and so on to the very top—that is, the central executive commit- tee, which is supreme and removed as far as possible from the rank and file. All through this system a strict discipline of a military nature must be maintained. This is the system built up in Russia, and the ease with which the dictatorial oligarchy on top can maintain itself through skillful manipulation is shown by the fact that during the three years of the soviet régime the only important changes on top have heen due to deaths. It is recognized that in most countries where the Communist Parties must operate | they are antigovernment parties and are not permitted to exist openly. The resolu- tion therefore emphasizes the need of both legal—that is, open work; and illegal that is, secret work. The law laid down on this point is that wherever both legal and illegal Communist Parties exist the illegal | one should be considered supreme, and _ all others should take orders from it and carry out these orders implicitly. Legal and Illegal Parties | An excellent illustration of how this sys- | tem works may be found in the re port on the communist situation in the United States, as presented to the Congress by a delegate of the American Communist Party The party was organized in September, 1919, and for the first period of its existence worked openly. But after the arrests made by the Department of Justice last fall, and particularly early in January, 1920, the party became illegal, and is now working secretly. The party is built on the principle of democratic centralism. All local organi- zations are subordinated to the central | body. All party organs of the press are en- tirely controlled by the central executive body. Strictest attention is given to the | maintenance of party discipline. The center of attention in the work of the party is at the factories, mills, mines, shops. Agitation is conducted there in every possi- | ble manner. Wherever possible, factory committees in the manner of the shop stewards in England are organized. Work in the trade unions is carried on within and outside the American Federation of Labor. The closest possible contact is established with that part of the I. W. W. movement which strives for the dictatorship of the proletariat. Concerning the attitude of the American Communist Party to strikes, the report says: “The Communist Party of America, con- scious of the fact that in the proletarian movement the economic struggle cannot be separated from the political, makes it obligatory for all its local organizations to take an active part in all economic strikes, in order to impress upon the masses of the proletariat the political significance of the strike movement.’ This is the kind of work that the Com- munist International requires of all com- | munist parties. } These national Communist Parties, too, are not autonomous in themselves. For them there is also a codrdinating center namely, the Communist International, or more specifically, since the international holds its congresses but seldom, the execu- tive committee of the Communist Inter national, the fifteen of whom we spoke at the beginning. The relation between the | different parties and the international is also that of democratic centralism. These par- ties are absolutely subordinated to the cen- tral body. They must carry out implicity and unqualifiedly all the decisions handed down to them. They must be entirely un- | der orders of the executive committee. The executive committee, thus becoming truly the general staff of the world revolu- tion, is given a wide latitude of power EVENING POST Lot Boss Gloves work with you AKE them your constant companions in all hand work. Boss Work Gloves are a comfortable necessity in dozens of odd jobs about the home. In shop or factory, Boss Gloves protect the |hands from dirt, grease, and minor injuries. They are especially valuable to garage | men, and all who work around automobiles. Made of the finest quality white canton flan- nel, Boss Work Gloves are tough enough for the most rugged jobs. Yet, their exceptional flexibility makes delicate work possible. Sizes for men and women, boys and girls |'—in ribbed, band and gauntlet wrists. Ask your dealer for them. THE BOSS MEEDY — The world’s THE BOSS XTRA HEVY—The favorite work glove for odk world’s champion heavy jobs around the house and weight handwear for rough garden, and all light hand work Made of the finest work. 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142 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

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Presumably within the limitations of the decisions of the congress on matters of principle, the committee has entire freedom of action. It is charged particularly with the direction of the work of the various parties and with the maintenance of an iron discipline within this world organization of communism. It has the power to ad- judge differences among parties and groups, and its decision is final. It has a right to expel whole groups and parties from the international whenever it considers their actions as violations of party dicipline. By these means and under the direction of this oligarchy of fifteen the Communist International hopes to establish the rule of communism in the countries of Europe and America. But there still remains the great colonial and semicolonial world of Asia and Africa, as well as of other parts of the earth, with its huge population and tremendous resources. The problems of communism here are different, and the approaches and methods must also be different. Communism in the sense in which the word is used—that is, a politico-economic movement of the industrial proletariat and the landless peasantry, led by a select and determined minority—is impossible in the East. The reports on the situation in the most important ones of these countries and territories, presented to the congress, indi- cate, however, the presence there of move- ments that are not communistic at all, but that can be turned to account by the astute communist leaders. For example, in India, with all the revo- lutionary o—— that appears to be going on there, judging by the noise made about it in America, there is not at the present time even a rudiment of a Communist Party; and this in spite of the fact that, according to the report at the congress, eighty per cent of the population of India have been deprived of their property by the British rule. There are, however, two movements in India that are of importance. The first is the nationalist movement, popular among the none too numerous educated class; and the second is the very widespread agrarian movement among the masses of the population. Almost exactly the same conditions exist inChina. Here, too, there are a nationalist movement, directed against foreign domi- nation, and a widespread agrarian move- ment, due to land shortage. How can these countries be brought to the fold of communism? Obviously both these movements should be utilized. Two resolutions passed by the congress deal with these questions. The first resolution is on the colonial question, and the second on the agrarian question. In presenting the first of these resolutions, Lenine ex- plained that the democratic movements existing in the backward countries, usually led by the bourgeoisie, are of two kinds. There are movements which adapt them- selves to and harmonize themselves with the interests of . ruling countries. Such movements are, by their very nature, re- formist. Communism should have noth- ing to do with them. On the other hand, there are movements which are entirely destructive in their immediate object, con- sequently revolutionary. Such movements should be supported. Chicherin’s View But such movements are usually agrarian in their character, and their backbone is the peasantry. The attitude toward the peasantry is given in the resolution on the agrarian question. The peasants are classi- fied into rich peasants, middle peasantry and poor peasants. The first class should be suppressed ruthlessly. The third class, theoretically, ought to be good material for communist agitation, and all efforts should be directed toward converting them. The second class should also be brought over to the side of communism when that is possible. When that is impossible, every effort should be made to neutralize the middle peasantry by giving it land and rendering state assistance in agriculture. These tactics are applicable both for the West and for the East. In this connection Lenine takes the op- port unity for expressing the opinion that it is necessary to abandon the scientific preju- dice that the establishment of the soviet régime is impossible unless the given coun- try has passed through capitalistic develop- ment. On the contrary, soviets can be established in the most backward countries. For eventually, when communism is uni- versally established, the more advanced November 20,1920 countries will come to the assistance of the backward ones. But when the Communist International comes to supporting the national and agrarian movements in the colonial and semicolonial countries, it comes face to face with the attitude of the workmen in the metropolis, or colony-owning countries; and the congress declared solemnly that whenever the working ciass of any metrop- olis power declares itself against a national- ist movement in any colony of that power it is guilty of treason to the cause of the revolution. Here we have the interrelation between the work of communism in the backward countries of the East and the advanced countries of the West. George Chicherin, the soviet Commissary for Foreign Affairs, recently expressed this very clearly in an article on the international policy of com- munism. According to his view, the funda- mental task of international communism is the creation of independent states out of the colonies and the dependencies which now constitute so large a portion of the earth. And since such independence would be won for these territories through the assistance of the Communist International, it is reasonable to expect that the form of government which would be established in these countries would be that of the soviet republic. This work should go hand in hand with the work which the Communist Inter- national aims to perform in the countries which are known as the Great Powers. “The liberation of the de pe nde nt coun- tries,” continued Chicherin, “is possible, because in the controlling countries the power of the ruling oligarchies has already become weakened to such an extent that they can no longer command the influence which they had before. On the other hand, the weakening of the colonial power of the oligarchies of the advanced countries hastens the fall of these very oligarchies.” Bidding for World Power The two movements, in the West and in the East, are thus closely interrelated. The direction of both movements in all their phases is in the hands of a small group, the executive committee, whose influence thus extends into the greatest centers of the world civilization and the remotest corners of savage lands. As the work it directs pro- ceeds, this group gathers in its hands the controlling threads which extend all over the earth and which are intended to give it the power at the proper moment to tear down everything that stands in the way of its undisputed sway over every nook and corner of the earth, which will then become the gigantic object of communist experi- ments. We are assured in the resolution on the role of the Communist Party that this party must carry on its work irrespective of whether the majority of the population wants it or not. When the Communist arty gains control of governmental power it must use it in the manner in which such power has been used in Russia—for the coercion of the majority, when that ma- jority opposes too strenuously the paradise which is being introduced by the Com- munist Party. We are told that eventually the Com- munist Party will disappear, when classes themselves are no more. When will that be? No one knows; certainly the com- munists do not. And in the name of what are the masses to submit to the dictatorial rule of such a frankly oligarchie group? In the name of what are they to live in conditions of discipline that approximate slavery and that are termed discipline merely as a euphonious substitute for serf- dom? In the name of what should civiliza- tion, culture, intellect and morality be forced to bow down and grovel in the dust before ignorance, arrogance and armed force, as we have seen in Russia? Again, no one knows. The house we live in is dark because its builders, less enlightened than we, have left some of its walls windowless. We are striving after light. Instead of putting windows through the blind walls in order to let in the sun and keep out the elements and the malefactors, we are told to break down the walls, let the roof collapse, so that we may find ourselves amidst these ruins, at the mercy of the elements and the , unrestrained forces of our baser nature. This has been Russia's experience. If the hierarchs of Moscow are successful, this will be the whole world’s experience. (Concluded on Page 145) ——— - - _

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(Concluded from Page 142) Just as in Russia, a group of men, dis- guising their actions under lofty and high- sounding phrases, have seized power over the people and for three years have been exercising that power, still under the guise of the same phraseology, in a manner in which no despot has ever dared to exercise authority that was frankly tyrannical, so a group of men are now attempting to obtain similar power over the whole world. We are unmistakably dealing here with a bid for world power. But to what extent is it Moscow’s bid? Is it the same group? Communism is theoretically interna- tional, or rather, extranational. Its avowed aim is to destroy national boundaries, make the nations of the world lose their identity, merge them into a unified world state, establish within that state a system of tremendously centralized administra- tion, disguise this ruthless centralization under quasi-democratie forms, manipulate these forms in such a way that the central and supreme power would be always in the hands of a small coterie of men who would be the rulers and the dictators of the world. Since this is so, then what difference does it make whose bid this is nationally? But it does make a difference, for in the process of achieving this so much of our civiliza- tion has to be destroyed that the success of this movement endangers not only the political liberty and the economic advance that Western civilization stands for, but also its very foundations of culture and progress. Since the danger is so real, it must be met; and the sources from which its strength and guidance spring are, in- deed, matters of importance and concern. It may have been an accident of history but it is nevertheless too obvious a fact that the center of the world communism is in Russia—specifically in Moscow. The leaders of communism would not have eared particularly where they made their beginning, in what country they estab- lished their base. It happened to be Russia; hence Russia is the center. This point of view of the communist leaders was very clearly, if somewhat pompously, set forth by N. Bukharin when he greeted the sritish Labor Mission in Moscow. In the name of the Communist International, Buk- harin said: “We, the international of the triumphant and rapidly rising communism, are bound very closely with the Russian proletariat. But the reason for this is not that we see extraordinary merits or virtues in the Russian proletariat as such, but that the proletariat of the whole worid, as well as of Russia, now has at its disposal a power- ful, centralized organization, equipped with the mightiest means and instruments of the struggle, and that organization is the Rus- sian soviet republic.” Russian Dominance With the resources of Russia pledged for the world-wide struggle of communism, the group which controls those resources nec- essarily plays a commanding role in the affairs of the Communist International. This is the group which holds in its hands the power that is represented by Moscow. Let us see how this rdle of the Russian communist group finds expression in the affairs of the Communist International. The First Congress of the International was almost exclusively Russian. That was natural; that was to have been expected. At the Second Congress at least thirty countries were represented. The number of delegates, as far as one can judge from the reports of the soviet press, was one hundred and _ sixty-one Of them, six represented England, five represented Ger- many, five represented France, five rep- resented the United States, and sixty-seven represented soviet Russia. In the course of the debates, when the question of pro- portional representation generally was raised at the congress by some of the naive delegates from Western Europe, the con- gress was assured by G. Zinoviev, the president of the executive committee of the Communist International—who is at the same time the dictator of Petrograd that proportional representation is a mix- ture of pink water and the deadliest poison—and the congress let the question rest at that. Every important committee at the con- gress was headed by a member of the Russian delegation. Every important resolution was presented by a member of the Russian delegation. When a delegate who was not a Russian presented a resolu- tion, and there were debates on it, the last word would always be given to Lenine or ! Zinoviev or Radek or some other prominent Russian communist, and the resolution would be carried in the form desired by the Russian delegation. The new executive committee is com- posed of fifteen men, of whom five are Russian communists, the other important countries being represented by one dele- gate each. The seat of the executive com- | mittee is in Moscow. No wonder that the Dutch communist leader, Wynkoop, ex- | pressed frankly his fear that the executive committee of the Third International would be merely an extension of the central executive committee of the Russian Com- munist Party. Wynkoop has already had experience with Moscow. He was very prominent in the affairs of the Amsterdam bureau of the Communist International, which was set up for the purpose of con- ducting communist propaganda in Western Europe and was soon after its establish- ment closed by a peremptory order from Moscow for refusing to obey unquestion- ingly the latter’s directions. It is that small communist group of Russia’s rulers that dominates the whole communist movement. Obviously the first important thing to consider in the de- fense against the possibility of success of this bid for world power now being made in Moscow is the dislodging of the domi- nating group from its position of power and prestige. The civil war which is going on in Russia is still the vanguard of this world defense against the encroaching tide of that monstrous thing which has its headquar- ters in the very heart of Russia. Light From America The only ray of light in this very dark and threatening situation that has recently come to pierce the gloom has been the clear statement of America’s position on the Russian question, set forth with such admirable definiteness and clarity in the recent declarations of the United States Government. The thing that has been sorely missing since the armistice and the real beginning of the growth of Moscow's power has been a lack of precisely this clarity and definiteness in the approach to the problems represented by Russia and communism. The statement of America’s position fixes the world’s attention upon the impassable gulf that exists between what democratic civilization stands for and what Moscow communism offers as a sub- stitute, and upon the fact that we are in the very midst of a struggle in which either democracy or disguised despotism, either civilization or savagery will be the victor, and in which a compromise is impossible. The civilized world still has enough THE SATURDAY EVENING strength to overcome the danger which im- | pends because of Moscow's bid for world power, if it would only use this strength The situation which I have sketched briefly in this paper is so huge in its magni- tude and almost incredible in the far-flung and penetrating nature of its detail that one is almost tempted to lay the whole thing aside and call it a fairy tale; and in- deed it reminds me of that familiar story of the king and his robe. Once upon a time there was a king whose courtiers assured him that the clothes he was wearing were not suitable to his rank and station. They prevailed upon him to cast these clothes aside and to place the wealth of his realm at their disposal for the tailoring of a robe really suitable for the king. They were unscrupulous, and took all that wealth for themselves. And when the king finally appeared before his people in what he had been led by his courtiers to believe was a resplendent robe a little girl in the crowd of his subjects cried aloud, “But the king is naked!” The masses of the people all over the world to-day are like that king. The com- munist leaders, the fanatical among them themselves in the power of the unscrupu- lous, bend every effort toward convincing the masses that if they would cast aside all of their historic heritage and intrust to communism the making of a new robe, they would indeed be dressed suitably to their station. If life reproduces faithfully the fairy tale which popular imagination has created, may it not be too late, when th« little girl—-the undying common sense cries aloud, “‘But the king is naked!” There is consolation in the fact that life usually ends its stories differently from the way primitive imagination ends its fairy tales. May the end in this case be for better, not for worse! POST Thanksgiving That was a real dinner, Mother. |! thought our first Thanksgiving dinner thirty years ago was the best I’d ever eaten, but every one since has been just as good. Such a dinner calls for a good cigar. That’s why Bob and I are smoking Cincos, and you and the girls always say you enjoy the pleasant odor of Cinco as much as we do the smoking of them. The quality of Cinco never varies. Thank goodness Cinco has been for years, and always will be, the same mild, satisfying cigar —the most restful cigar in America. STICK TO DID GATS OO &B. I 19 Reg. | Pat Off IT’S SAFE OTTO EISENLOHR & BROS. INC. EST. 1850

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the visible result of years of work carried on while normal Americans have been asleep on the job. If it were based upon economic truth its persistence would have enabled it to sweep the world long ago. But even now it is vulnerable to the right kind of opposi- tion. That opposition is not amused tolerance, but systematic participation by normal Americans in what is now a purely one- sided discussion. Radicalism thrives on special pleading and one-sided statement. There is nothing radicals fear more than a sane, unheated statement of their case. They elude open debate whenever possible. It is not necessary to go to Russia for proof that they oppose the free speech so vocifer- ously demanded by themselves, because the case can be proved right at home. Free speech in the out-and-out radical communities of the United States is re- garded with the same deep affection mani- fested by Comrades Lenine and Trotzky for a free press. Announce a meeting for open discussion of economic questions and radi- cals in such communities defend the cause vinapeushr. First, they endeavor to pack the meeting—that keeps out the near radical and honest inquirer leaning their way and eliminates the danger of their be- coming confused by hearing the other side of economic questions. If they cannot cap- ture the meeting they endeavor to drown out discussion with noise. If a speaker op- posing radicalism procures a hearing and throws the meeting open to discussion, they can still ask long questions amounting to one-sided radical discourses, It was a meeting of this sort in Detroit, < city where one-sided preaching had m: “ie radicalism strong, that resulted in Michi- gan’s legislation against the red flag. A well-known labor man, speaking against radicalism, announced a lecture and dis- cussion in a public hall. His appearance on the platform was the signal for pandemo- nium, organized by radicals with the thor- oughness of the demonstrations at national party conventions. For several hours all effort to address the gathering was pre- vented by noise, though finally the speaker got a hearing. A week later Catherine Breshkovsky, the Little Mother of the Revolution, appeared in the same hall to lecture on the real workings of soviet gov- ernment in Russia. That was a story the Detroit radicals didn’t want heard! They paid two dollars apiece to pack the hall, and by continuous noise prevented her from getting a hearing at all. But these dis- orders woke up the state authorities and resulted in publicity and legislation that have hurt the radical cause in Detroit. Peter Collins on the Stand ‘ Some months ago five socialist members were expelled from the New York State legislature. A good many broad-minded, tolerant Americans feel that constitutional rights were overridden and injustice was done to a minor political party. The action was based on evidence brought out that among other things every socialist who runs for political office must put his resignation into the hands of the socialist organization before election, subjecting himself to secret recall at any time, and also that every socialist is required by the constitution of his party to vote against every measure to uphold the military power of the Govern- ment. But the most interesting point in the Al- bany case is that the investigating com- mittee called and examined the first expert in radicalism that has ever testified in such proceedings in this country. This expert was kept on the stand three days. The committee quizzed him on technical as- pects of socialism, bolshevism, communism, the I. W. W. and radicalism generally. After that he was cross-examined by the counsel for the socialist assemblymen, and their individual attorneys separately, and by each member of the committee. This witness is Peter Collins, a labor man who for more than ten years has been meeting radicalism in the open, by lecture, discussion and debate. During that time he has spoken forth more than four thou- sand times, in every state of the Union and every province of Canada. His meet- ings are always open to anybody who

November 20,1920 wishes to attend, without admission fee or collection—a striking contrast to rad- ical meetings, where admission is always charged and a collection taken up as well. Many thousands of dollars are gathered in weekly by radical lecturers and publishers. After a lecture in which radical beliefs are analyzed and their true nature shown by quotations from radical writers almost entirely socialistic—Marx, Engels, Lieb- knecht, Bebel, Bax, Debs, Hunter, and others, foreign and American—the meeting is thrown open for discussion. Anyone in the audience may ask the lecturer a ques- tion, which he endeavors to answer. More than ten thousand questions asked at these meetings have been carefully recorded, and give a most interesting insight into public psychology on radical beliefs. The American public might be compared to a jury which has heard clever special pleaders present only one side of a very in- teresting case. Ninety persons out of every hundred in the United States interested in radical philosophies have neither heard the other side nor gone to the original writings upon which such philosophies are based. They are attracted and influenced by misrepre- sentations of these philosophies. A clear exposition of real radicalism often startles and turns them against it. More Poison Than Antidote The notion that radicalism affects chiefly foreigners, workers in industrial centers and dwellers in slums is both widespread and untrue. It is also reaching out into typical American towns, villages and farming dis- tricts as well as into the colleges. Incities—like Detroit—which have drawn upon farming sections for additional labor since 1915, radicalism is very strong. Coun- try boys coming to town, breaking their old moorings, earn good wages and get a taste of excitement. But they also see ex- travagance and luxury, with bad living con- ditions due to crowding. The latter are probably temporary. But they make their impression and demand explanation. The radical soap-box orator’s explanation is the only one at hand. If they do not see these contrasts he points them out, and teaches them discontent, resentment and self-pity The American farmer has his grievances, like everybody else. Just now they seem to be even more acute than the grievances of industrial workers. Wide, unexplained dif- ferences between the price he gets for his stuff and that paid by city consumers losses through war control of food products, ; wasteful marketing machinery, and the like, have made him discontented. He re- sponded to Uncle Sam's war call for more wool and started a flock of sheep. During the two years required to realize on the crop he has paid high prices for clothing, seen wool speculators and manufacturers grow rich, and then when his wool is ready to sell he finds prices below cost. The hard facts of life to-day are ready- made material for the radical agitator. He alone seems to have a plausible explanation to offer, and the farmer listens to him and feels sorry for himself. Radical propaganda is bringing about great changes among negroes, both in the South and in Northern cities with growing negro populations. The negro works under racial as well as economic handicaps. Even in the North he can only follow certain oc- cupations, mostly semiskilled, and is re- stricted in education, living quarters and other circumstances of his life. Ne ‘gro grievances are being painted in vivid colors by the radical agitator. General economic handicaps in no way connected with race have bee on added to them. Discontent is evident to-day wherever negroes live. The soap-box orator speaks, and nobody pre- sents the other side of his issues. During the past few years radicalism has spread fast among labor organizations. A good many Americans probably regard this as a matter of course, assuming that labor and radicalism go together. But that is a fallacy. Labor unions have a program of social reform which is conservative. They seek higher wages, shorter hours and im- prov ed working conditions through organ- ization bargaining, legislation and like (Continued 'on Page 149)

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“I put the meal in the oven, set the temperature indicator for five-hour cooking and go to the store to Oe \ & help my husband out,confident that when I get home a complete meal, deliciously cooked, will be ready.”’ “<!' “The woman who kept house and helped in her husband’s store “ Perhaps my experience with ‘Lorain’ will help other women to realize what a practical invention this is. My husband keeps a store. In our small town it i hard to get sales-people. I often wished that I might be able to help him out in his rush hours. I never could until | bought a‘ Lorain’ because I was always tied down by my kitchen duties “Since I got my ‘Lorain’ I find that I have ple nty of spare time. I get through with all my housework by noon, including the preparation of the evening meal. Then I put the meal in the oven, set the temperature indicator for five-hour cooking and go to the store to he Ip my husband our, « onhdent that whi n l yet home a complete meal, deliciously cooked, way, | save him the cost of an extra clerk “My cooking has in proved since I bought exact measured heat to cook with.” This letter to the American Stove Company reveals a new usefulness for ‘ Lorain.”’ There are doubtless many women who could help their husbands if they had the time. “ Lorain”’ gives them the time. They can prepare a full meal, put it in the oven, with the indicator set for low temperature cooking, and be miles away all afternoon with the comforting knowl edge that when they get home “Lorain” will have cooked:a perfect meal for them. Not all women want to work in stores this way, but all women do want more time for relaxation, for sports outdoors, for cultivating physical and mental gifts. They do not dis like cooking, but they do dislike the drudgery of pot-watching. “Lofain” frees them from hanging over a hot stove. will be ready in the oven. In this ‘Lorain’ because I can always have ‘Lorain’ does much more than cook a com plete mea! unwatched. It makes possible better cookery. It places 44 Oven tempera tures at your command which makes possible the most exact scientific cooking results. No matter what heat you want in your ove! “Lorain”’ will give it to you, and will sustain that heat so that it cannot vary, for ai length of time. Kor baking, where exact temperatures are r quired according to whether you are making pies, breads, cakes, biscuits, dainties, roasts, etc., this heat-meter insures happy resul ‘| here are no “unluc ky a baking day W th al “Lorain”’ heat-meter. Only these famous gas stoves are equipped with the ‘‘ Lorain”’ CLARK JEWEL—George M. Clark & Co. Div., Chicago, III. DANGLER— Dangler Stove Co. Div., Cleveland, Ohio DIRECT ACTION —National Stove Co. Div., Lorain, Ohio NEW PROCESS—New Process Stove Co. Div., Cleveland, Ohio QUICK MEAL— Quick Meal Stove Co. Div., St. Louis, Mo. RELIABLE—Reliable Stove Co. Div., Cleveland, Ohio We manufacture oil and coal stoves for use where gas is not available AMERICAN STOVE COMPANY, 111 Chouteau Ave., St. Louis, Mo., Largest Makers of Gas Ranges in the World

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148 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20, 1920 } ' ; Y 1 oc a a ne se, f ye e* . " } rr 7. ~~, sal fe kM tr " ‘ f Tr e — : ’ fy r r ' " of ef | ’ e oe 5 “ao! , 4 £ ' 4 ; ; hig N yy \\ HidJiyybiaes™ Will YOU Profit by the E f th R S Music C ? of the Q usic Company | The QRS Music Company of Chicago, the largest sable part of our organization, growing in favor and manufacturer of music rolls in the world, is using number. Thirty Dictaphones in our Chicago and 30 Dictaphones in its various departments. For | New York offices add hours to our days in service general correspondence and inter-ofhce communi and years to our lives in comfort.” cation The Dictaphone is invaluable to this com- Whether your office is large or small we are ready pany in speeding up letter production and lowering _ to install Dictaphones; ready to give you a working costs. E. J. Delfraisse of this company says: “The | demonstrationoftheirability tospeed upcorrespon- Dictaphone is a blessing. Its loss would be a dence work and to cut your costs. Write, wire, or calamity. For ten years it has been an indispen- _ phone today fora tryout on your work in your office. *‘The Shortest Route to the Mail-Chute’’ ™ DIZ TAPAVAN > and What the Girls Say

Interruptions to takedictation in my “I never realized the time Nomorelast minute rush for horthand notebook were always an used in taking shorthand me. I get a good part of the / awiul nuisance to me. Not only did notes until | began using letters written while the boss ; these interruptions distract me in the 4 The Dictaphone, and I hon is still dictating. That's easier, J work which | was doing, but they - estly believe that the time a and there's less possibility of a a actually interfered with my doing my saved with The Dictaphone ae errors than when transcribing work efficiently That's one thing | 4a has been a factor in my in is crowded into the late after- can say in favor of The Dictaphone at creased earnings < a noon, | like The Dictaphone.” / once when speaking of its good points Statement made bu Statement made by Statement made by Miss Corinne Sexton j Miss Florence Hanse TA Miss Adele L. Kane . of the 9 R S Music Company of the QRS Music Compar of the Q R S Music Company Phone or write our Branch nearest you for convincing demonstration in your office, on your work, and for the Booklet, ‘‘The Man at the Desk’’ THE DICTAPHONE, Woolworth Building, New York City Akron, Ohio Chicago, Il Grand Rapids, Mich New Orleans, La. San Francisco, Cal. Syracuse, N Y. | Atlanta, Ga Cincinnati, Ohio Hartford, Conn Philadelphia, Pa. Springfield, Mass Toledo, Ohio B h Baltimore, Md Cleveland, Ohio Indianapolis, Ind Pittsburgh, Pa St. Louis, Mo Washington, D. C ranches Birmingham, Ala Dallas, Texas Kansas City, Mo Portland, Ore St. Paul, Minn. Worcester, Mass Boston, Mass. Denver, Colo Los Angeles, Cal Providence, R. I. Seattle, Wash Montreal, Can Buffalo, N. ¥ Des Moines, Iowa Minneapolis, Minn Rochester, N. ¥ Spokane, Wash. Toronto, Ont. Detroit, Mich New Haven, Conn Salt Lake City, Utah

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(Continued from Page 146) orderly means. The idea of revolution does not enter into it anywhere. But their unions have been invaded by radical agita- tors seeking to use them for re volutionary ends, and much of the recent violence in connection with labor disturbances is at- tributed to this invasion, against which conservative labor leaders are taking steps to protect their organizations. The spread of radicalism in our colleges is perhaps most marked of all. The cartoon type of radical, with his whiskers and bomb, has a very limited field of activity any policeman would arrest him on a. The college radical, on the contrary, can move in every circle. It is not easy dy ex- plain him. Sometimes he is a self-seeker and loves notoriety. Again, his hostility to society is based on envy. Ambitious, but lacking energy, he hates people who suc- ceed through energy, and sours on life. Some of this intellectual radicalism is attributed to the materialism of the age, eo sm and similar philosophies being based on the material concept of history. Other observers charge it up to slipshod teaching of history and economics, stu dents lacking the solid grounding that would put superficial radical theories in proper perspec tive. There is discontent in our colleges rising from small salaries and difficulty with liv- ing problems. The teachings of a radical oda professor may have great influence. In one college rex ‘ently some of the students made a demonstration when a radical pro- fessor was dropped from the faculty. But loyalty to the man rather than to his doc- trines seems to be characteristic of such cases. We regard the parlor bolshevist, like the soap-box orator, with amused tolerance. Yet he is dangerous in two ways: First, as an out-and-out revolutionist who will take your property if he gets a chance, enslave or kill you and demonstrate his philosophy along Russian lines gener: illy— though apart from this he may be a very likable fellow. Second, if not an out-and-out revolutionist, then he illustrates the strong intellectual appeal of radical philosophies. These are penetrating many quiet places by means of radical books and periodicals, and often crop up among teachers, clergymen and other leaders of normal American com- munities. That people who are comfortable themselves should want to make others comfortable, abolishing poverty and privi- lege, is entirely human and commendable. Granted that, the only debatable point is how to do it. Never having worked with his hands, nor mingled with wage earners, n or bee ’n creative or constructive in any way himself, the intellectual radical sees nothing difficult in the revolutionary program of first tearing everything down and then building from the ground up, entirely new. Classifying Radicals “No revolution in history was ever started by a workingman,”’ Peter Collins says. ‘The man who works with his hands is constructive—a builder who knows the cost of building in terms of work, time and patience. Destructive revolutionists have almost invariably come from the intellec tuals. Having no experience as manual workers, they are ignorant of these building costs and lightly tear down what the prac- tical worker knows will take years to re- place. The working class goes after results through bargaining and adjustment, avoid ing violence and understanding that de struction will defeat its ends. This may be disputed, in the face of violence during re cent strikes, but it is true of hundreds of labor organizations which have improved conditions the past generation without violence. Labor organizations have been invaded by radical elements seeking to di vert them to revolutionary programs and to destroy them along with the employing class.” About the first step in counteracting radicalism through discussion, he adds, is to understand the separate elements in ever) radical group or gathering. These have become thoroughly familiar to him during ten years of lecturing and discussion before radical audiences First in activity, thougk not in numbers, the out-and-out revolutionist is under no illusions whatever about the philosophy or the program. Radicalism with him may as ume various names and forms, but it all means violence and revolution. Idealism eldom enters into his make-up. He is a rough customer, sometimes bordering on THE SATURDAY the criminal, out to profit by tipping things | over. Radicalism is his regular trade, and it pays well in lecture fees, collections, ex- penses and spoils generally. Then comes the half revolutionist, with some idealism, but also understanding the real program and willing to tip things over for the common good. After that the main group, largest in numbers, made up of believers who antici- pate a peaceful revolution or believe that the radical program is to be achieved grad- ually by changes in established govern- ment, and the followers who have not yet become avowed radicals, but have griev ances or are idealists, and, on the general assumption that the world needs improv- ing, like to hear social questions discussed. Finally, there is a lunatic fringe of the erratic, fanatic and unbalanced. Most Americans who read, mix with people, take an interest in affairs and watch tendencies, run across radicalism at some time in their lives—usually at an early age. Every intelligent, well-balanced young American might be advised to be- come a socialist in his youth, and then get over it like the measles. The temporary socialist is usually attracted by the litera ture. It may be a book like Looking Back- ward, in which he discovers for the first time that he has blundered into an imper- fect world capable of improvement, and is invited to help on the improving job. It may be periodicals or pamphlets, and if he is a college man perhaps he digs into the formidable classics of radicalism, even the ponderous Kapital of Herr Marx himself But workaday life soon absorbs him. Tak- ing people as they are, with all their self- interest and shortsightedness, he deals | with them as people. What originally made these theories fascinating was a streak of idealism in himself, He drops the theories, not because he has lost his idealism but because they seem to call for a new kind of humanity. On the principle that idealism will carry you just as far as you can make it work, he takes people as they come along, and tries to give his work and life an up- ward slant toward better things. Unmasking Radicalism Radicals lightly passing through this measles stage, together with those in whom the malady has been arrested, make up a very large proportion of radicalism in this country. The best way to deal with radicalism, Collins says, is to let its followers see it at work. Three-quarters of therm are deceived by one-sided radical reading and radical pleading, having heard no counterargu- ments. Their sympathies are roused by shortcomings in the social order, and ideal- ism leads them to desire improvement. They have no suspicion of the antagonism to established government which is really at the bottom of the radical philosophies, or of the violent and revolutionary methods proposed to bring about the radical mil lennium. When radicalism is publicly unmasked, in meetings and discussions, deluded followers are often horrified, and disavow it, tearing up membership cards in radical organizations. Unmasking radicalism is simply a mat- ter of going to the writings and actions of radicals themselves, from the classic Marx to the pragmatic Lenine and Trotzky. Marx and socialism are at the bottom - all—communism, syndicalism, the 1..W. and bolshevism. Socialism proposes in the plainest terms to overthrow present forms of government wherever violence will do th job, to upset and destroy industry, to abolish property and the family, and set up a class government of the workers. Recog nizing only the material concept of histor) it ignores the spiritual side of man, and though appealing to that spiritual side for the present, would abolish it when th time comes. It preaches class hatred, atl ism, materialism. These basic principle are carefully camouflaged in the soap-box propaganda. To attract followers, both the good and bad in average humanity ar carefully utilized, with clever adaptatior to people and circumstances. At the bot tom of it all, however, violent overthrow of society is the indispensable preliminary of radicalism for setting up a vague new order of things. That order has not been « lear] defined in the radical classics, but the prac tical demonstration in Russia is awakeniny even radicals themselves to some of the basic things in the philosophy they have been advocating for years. For Russian bolshevism is simply socialism in action EVENING POST Pleasurable Shaving Soften your beard—then lather is necessary when Shavaid is used. -asier, more comfortable shave. No “rubbing in” And you will enjoy an small quantity out on your quicker finger tips and spread it over your dry beard. Then lather as usual, using your favorite soap or cream and brush. | Men the nation over have welcomed this easier, method, Kor Shavaid does away necessity for hot : : Ap Now shave. It will seem onl to you as though some ex pert had been sharpening your razor. Your beard has been thoroughly softened and that’s all. with all towels, for ‘rubbing in.” plied before lathering, it tens your beard. Men who use Shavaid have better « omplexions, Hot prepared Shavaid keeps your skin normal, so that after shaving no lotion is necessary. Even age the skin prematurely. after a close shave, vour face They bring wrinkles. feels cool and comfort Shavaid comes in a able. For Shavaid is sanitary collapsible in itself a soothing, tube. Just healing emollient. towels and rubbing in of lather are not only unneces- sary, but injurious. They squeeze a havaid In 50-cent Tubes— Buy from Your Druggist BAUER & BLACK Chicago New York Toronto Makers wae Sterile en al Dressings and Allied Products Science for Boys Cultivate your boy’s mind. Make him bigger and broader. Gilbert educational outfits will give him a better chance in life. They include sound experiments, magnetic fun and facts, real weather bureau sets, civil engineering, chemical, electrical and many other educational outfits for boys. Each outfit was prepared under the di- rection of noted educators and includes a valuable book on the subject, written in boy language. Write today for a free copy of our monthly magazine for boys and a folder on Gilbert Toys. GILBERT BOY ENGINEERING—A derfully intere ting yd helpful book for | sent postpaid for 25c, Get it for your boy. The A. C. Gilbert Company, 119 Blatchley Ave New Haven, Conn In Canada: The A. C. Gilbert-Menazies ( Amited, Toront In England: The A. C. Gilbert Co., 126 High He a rn, London, W.C.1 we tee a COUPON: nity Bla bley Aves New Haven, Conn { tT Enclosed find 25« ' h send bowk Boy Engineering Name Addre City

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150 THE SATURDAY N Y Remove Corns! Doesn't hurt a bit! Apply a few drops of l'reezone upon a tender, aching corn or a cal- lus for a few nights. The soreness stops and shortly the entire corn or callus loosens and can be lifted off without a twinge of pain. l'reezone removes hard corns, soft corns, also corns between the toes and hardened calluses. Freezone does not irritate the surrounding skin. You feel no pain when apply ing it or afterward. Small bottles can be had at any drug store ai line Uniled . Slates or Canada, Edward Wesley and Co., eaiomate, O. “Si By Las _— — s} JOON Folding v Ironing Table _ Cannot Wiggle, Wabble, Jiaggie, Slip or Stide “You're a Dear, Thoughtful Husband!— You're always seeking some way to make my work lighter and easier And this Rid-Jid lroning Table will help wonderfully. I've wanted one for months. It not only makes my Christmas happy but my ironing will never be a task any more ‘And it's so strong, and so convenient. It can't creep or crawl, and never has to be lifted to put on and take off circular garments.” Choose a RID JID Open End, Folding Troning Table — the most appreciated gift that Five Dollars will buy. See your dealer and reserve one for wife, mother, daughter or sister RID-JID PRODUCTS CORPORATION, WAUKEGAN, ILLINOIS Western Factory Portland, Oregon r “s Ba SS EVENING POST Neither force nor pussyfooting can be effective in meeting radical activities. In- stead of suppressing the apm om ney mapa people ought to have an opportunity to get them at first hand, in all their purity, and know exactly what they are going in for. Suppression simply strengthens the belief of misinformed followers that there must be something in them. The hush-hush spirit is even more futile. Like the politicians’ method of ignoring radical minorities, it leaves the field to the special pleader, en- | couraging growth. New York State’s five socialistic assem- blymen were elected by a radical element which had grown up in New York City without fair and open opposition from con- servatives. They were unseated, not by changing the beliefs of voters in their own districts, but by mobilizing conservative forces in the state at large. The best serv- ice rendered by the investigation was bring- ing out facts about radicalism that woke many people to its real character. What happened in New York, say those who are familiar with the growth of radical- ism, is pretty nearly due to happen in other communities which have reached the same development in radicalism. Detroit, To- ledo, Minneapolis, Butte, Seattle, Winni- peg, Toronto and Vancouver are radical strongholds, with turbulent minorities ready to upset things. Milwaukee, with its socialistic city government, is popularly regarded as extremely radical. On the con- trary, observers pronounce it almost con- —_ ative, because success in gaining office has leaded socialists in city jobs, and this new order of society is so satisfactory that they do not want to be turned out of office by a revolution, Boston's disorder during the police strike last year was not of a radi- eal nature, but chiefly an outbreak of criminals and rowdies taking advantage of the situation. The most practical way of dealing with the soap-box orator and everything he stands for and all that is behind him is to go right out into his territory, take his soap box and his audience and meet his arguments with facts. That social conditions are not ideal can readily be admitted. There are grievances, but everybody has them. However, when the social advances made under our form of peepee are contrasted with those made by radicals, it is plain to the average American that the latter offer chiefly promises. Given the facts, there is plenty of sense in the average American. His idealism and desire for a better world will not allow him to run along revolutionary lines. If he has become a near-radical it is usually because he hasn’t been getting the facts, and because people who stand for orderly progress and are working to make a better world through established Amer- ican institutions have not answered radical claims. Tireless Talkers, but Poor Debaters In Detroit radicalism is being met by volunteer speakers. The Knights of Co- lumbus have organized there the largest council of their order in the world, with eight thousand members. Instead of sup- pressing or ignoring the soap-box reformer, his methods are being adopted. Speakers go out into his territory, ask for the privi- lege of his soap box, and talk to his audi- ence. These speakers are trained to state the case against every radical belief and to answer questions This adds interest to soap-box meetings and appeals to the American sense of fair play and a fair hearing for all sides. Soap boxes are plentiful. If the radical orator does not extend the platform courtesy, rival meetings are easily started, and con- servative soap-box activity carried into fresh territory heads him off or puts him on the defensive. Contrary to popular notions, most radi- cals are far from being good debaters. They are continually talking, talking, talking, but only on their own side. It is assumed that practice must have made them alert on every point, ready with the crushing reply. As a matter of fact, they are prop- agandists, speaking mostly to believers who never question their statements. Once interested in the new social philosophy, followers confine their reading chiefly to its publications, and become as one-sided in their information and views as the most hidebound follower of the old political parties. Facts on the other side often have, to them, the interest of news. There is always the interest of hearing answers to November 20,1920 what they have been led to believe is unanswerable, One of the most convincing features of radicalism is that it proposes to do some- thing to make the world better. Any oppo- sition that stops at mere refutation of radical arguments, therefore, is as negative and futile as force or silence. Four years ago radicalism became so strong in Bridgeport, Connecticut, that quarantine measures were taken to prevent its spread to neighboring communities. The job was first handed over to the police. Good citizens in Bridgeport did not like to mention the local unrest for fear publicity would give the city a bad name. In the end, however, the cure was found neither through force nor silence. Investigation proved that radicalism rested on griev- ances. War had made the town a munition center. Thousands of workers, with their families, had been added to the population. Shortage of houses made living conditions intolerable, despite war wages. So the business men of Bridgeport began building houses. A corporation was formed by manufacturers, merchants, bankers and public-service companies. Capital was subscribed, limited to six per cent earnings, and put behind a housing plan. Including government housing activities, new homes were provided for seventeen hundred fami lies. Rents ranged from eighteen and a half dollars to forty-six dollars a month, or houses were purchasable from fifty-two hundred dollars to ten thousand dollars, on installments. To-day Bridgeport is _re- ported as crowded but orderly. Radicalism has subsided to a degree that justifies the town's housing slogan: ‘‘The home of the workingman is the balance wheel of democ- racy.” If that section of New York called more vaguely than people suppose—the East Side could be set down somewhere by itself it would form a city certainly larger than Cleveland and perhaps as large as Philadelphia. That this East Side should have built up an industry characteristic of itself which will this year turn out one billion dollars’ worth of products is little realized by the nation. The Needle-Trade Workers The needle trades are synonymous with the East Side, and the term is vague, be- cause the nine hundred thousand Jewish and five hundred thousand Italian people more or less connected with that industry are now scattered through other parts of the city. Who they are, where they came from, why they came, what their living conditions and political ideas were before setting out for America, what they think now, what they have accomplished and what they want—few of us have been interested enough to inquire. Almost the first businesslike study of New York’s needle trades has lately been published—a book entitled The New Unionism, by two labor experts, J. M. Budish and George Soule. The authors deal with East Side radicalism to-day and show how it has grown up among immigrants originally conservative. More than half the needle- trade workers are Jewish, and about one- third Italian. The industry has less than seven per cent native Americans among its employees and employers. The Jews came from agricultural countries with few industries, in Eastern Europe— Russia, Poland, Austria and the Balkan States. Barred by law from farming and the pro- fessional and administrative classes, they became traders, shopkeepers, artisans and money lenders. There was a large propor- tion of skilled tailors, dressmakers and furriers among them when they arrived. In business they were independent, self- reliant, ambitious, able to take care of themselves in competition. Their literacy was far above the average. Few had ever been wage earnérs in factories. The freedom that they sought in America was largely economic—they came here to make money. The Italians, too, came from South Italy, where they were farmers, laborers, servants and artisans—among the latter a large proportion of people who already knew needle trades. They also came here for economic freedom—to escape taxation, landlordism and crowding at home, and to make money. Landing in New York, handicapped by language, isolated from Americans and typical American industries, their energy was directed to the garment trades. With (Concluded on Page 153)

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The Plumb Line Shows What Happens The load on a moving truck seldom pushes down evenly across the whole width of the axles. The illustration with the perpen- dicular plumb line crudely shows how the center of the weight has shifted from the center of the axle nearly to the end of the axle be- cause the truck is on a sloping road. There are many other elements to cause this shifting of the weight. Skidding brings five times more stress upon parts of the axle than the ordinary weight of the load. Rounding corners at high speed momentarily slews the weight out of line, lifts it from one side of the axle and throws it to the other. - That is why the two inside wheels will lift from the ground if a car is driven around the corner at an excessive speed. This shifting weight, the side strains and stresses encountered by all axles on commercial trucks have been studied in the designing and building of Sheldon Axles. They are built on the same principle used by locomotive and freight car axle makers—widely spread bear- ings and wheels rigidly fixed to the revolving axle. Sheldon Axles are worm-gear driven with ball bearings that never need adjust- ment. Made for trucks from !> to 5-ton capacities. SHELDON AXLE AND SPRING COMPANY, Wilkes-Barre, Pa. Manufacturers of Sheldon Axles for Motor Trucks and Sheldon Springs for Trucks and Automobiles Sheldon Axle FOR MOTOR TRUCKS SATURDAY EVENING POST When you see a truck with these torpedo-shaped hub caps and double anchor trade mark—it has Shel- don Axles.

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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 ee = Ha Hisitii) Hlth tit Ali } i at Haake al? HASLER it Hide hai WENT Makes wood endure Wood is one of the most perishable of industrial necessities. The prodigal waste of timber and lack of reforestation makes wood preservation imperative. 140,000,000 railroad ties are consumed yearly. Treatment with Zinc Chloride would extend the life of this wood 200%. It saves costly replacements and returns corresponding profit. under conditions where timber is exposed to attack by bacteria, fungi or similar agencies which cause wood to decay. The New Jersey Zinc Company produces Zinc Chloride which fully meets the specifications of the American Wood Preservers’ Association, and aids in saving millions of dollars yearly, as well as in enhancing con- servation of our timber supplies. This is only one of our economic activities in the service of American industry. New Jersey Zinc Oxide in paint gives equal protection to structural wood, both for exterior and interior use; and through the scientific production of high-grade zinc pigments, chemicals, and metal products, this Company serves many lines of manufacture with materials just as indispensable to the economic pre «duction of their wares. The COOpC ration of our Research Departme nt is at the service of all our customers seeking to effect greater economy and to increase their output through the use of Zinc products. THE NEW JERSEY ZINC COMPANY, /60 Front Street, New York ESTABLISHED 1848 CHICAGO: Mineral Point Zinc Company, 1111 Marquette Building PITTSBURGH: The New Jersey Zinc Co. (of Pa.), 1439 Oliver Building Manufacturers of Zine Oxide, Slab Zine (Spelter), Spiegeleisen, Albalith, Lithopone, Sulphuric Acid, Rolled Zinc Strips and Plates, Zinc Dust, Salt Cake and Zinc Chloride The world’s standard for Zinc products New Jersey ZINC FATA Hu IN i AI | HOA ed

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(Concluded from Page 150) enterprise and experience, many of them be- came employers. The newly arrived green- horn was exploited by his own countrymen, not only in wages and working conditions but in theslumdwe lling where he lived under a landlord of his own nationality. As the industry developed it was exploited in turn by Americans, speculators in real estate, who drove it from section to section of the city, saddled it with high overhead ex- penses and brought it into disfavor by ruining each new section that it invaded. Nobody seemed to take any interest in the troubles of these people. Even the labor organizers in the characteristic American industries ignored them. So they were left to work things out themselves, and their struggle for better conditions took a radical trend. Instead of the straight business bargaining and gradual betterment through legislation typical of labor organizations in other industries, they concentrated upon a socialistic program. Their outlook was limited. Work, wages, hours, housing and opportunity were clearly wrong. Radical agitators easily persuaded them that the whole American political system was wrong. Set down by themselves in the slums of a great city, they lacked knowl- edge and skill in using American institu- tions to procure better conditions. In working out their own betterment they have procured results by bargaining, arbitration, legislation— American results through the established system chiefly. Their future program, however, is frankly socialistic—nothing less than state own- ership of their own industry and allied industries. It would probably take a plebi- scite to show how many needle-trade workers anticipate a peaceful revolution and how many believe the change will come about otherwise, but they believe a change absolutely necessary. Meanwhile constructive forces are at work among needle-trade manufacturers. Recently they have come together on a plan to erect coéperative factory buildings in an undeveloped section of the city. This gives the industry strength by bringing it together. The old migrations under the real-estate speculator will stop because the new center is permanent. There will be a decided saving in overhead expense. The real handicap of the industry to-day is its seasonal nature, with idleness part of the year for workers, and fluctuations in fashion and prosperity adding to employ- ment difficulties. The same business ability which is now dealing with concentration of the industry can unquestionably deal with its seasonal fluctuations. One signifi- cant fact is that our needle-trade products, as peculiarly American as our typewriters and adding machines, as yet hardly ex- ported at all, may find in foreign markets one solution of the industry’s seasonal handicaps. Sounder economic knowledge, better business methods and closer contact with Americans and American institutions seem to promise much more than radical- ism—certainly more than revolution. The Test of Results A good many people view the soap-box orator with alarm, and would suppress him. But it is evident that the situation calls for more soap boxes, with a little more variety in the doctrine preached therefrom. The answer to radicalism, however, is not simply counterstatement. Some _ things are wrong in every community. Radical- ism usually grows where conditions call most urgently for betterment. Radical heat and class hatred can be dissipated best by setting everybody at work to im- prove conditions. The whole appeal of radicalism can be expressed in one word, familiar in business “results. ou - our prese nt system of government is not giving you results,” it preaches. “Change the system immediately, and let us manage it for you. We will give you more to eat and wear, a better house to live in, shorter working hours, more education, more entertainment. Exactly what it has done in Russia, how- ever, or anywhere else, radicals themselves all over the world begin to see and admit frankly. “Given six months’ operation, this phil- osophy will put itself into bankruptey,”” was Herbert Hoover's prediction when Bolshe- vism first attained power in Russia. Three years have passed. Bolshevism is still in power, but it is also bankrupt. Radicals themselves have investigated and disavowed it on results. Ultimately the system must fall in Russia, because it is unworkable. Its hundreds of thousands of city dwellers and industrial workers, misled by the fallacious teaching that they alone are producers, cannot even make commod- ities with which to purchase food from the one hundred and twenty million soil dwellers of Russia, the peasants who will not exchange bread and meat for theories or paper rubles. When it falls, or how, is not important, but fall it must. The longer Bolshevism persists the greater will be its ultimate deficit among liberals and in- dustrial workers everywhere, and the wider their recognition that present schemes of government are flexible enough for all pur- poses of improvement when people know how to use them to the utmost advantage. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST There will still be, of course, deluded people | who feel that the Russian soviets were suppressed by capitalism, and will want to try the experiment all over again; and the self-interested agitator, preaching false economics and stimulating one-sided socio- logical thinking for his own ends, will be with us always. Americanism as a Cure Radicalism is not the first fallacy upon which the American people have cut a wisdom tooth. Concentrate enough atten- tion and discussion upon Bolshevism, populism, greenbackism, bimetallism or | similar something-for-nothing schemes, and American sense will disprove them forever. The response to the soap-box orator shows widespread interest in eco- | nomics and government. If it is made broad enough and sound enough there will be results in better citizenship, the more direct application of individual ability to community problems, a better knowledge of what will work and what won't. Radi- calism proposes to attain many generations of growth overnight by destructive means. The thing will no more work in government than in physiology. But a great many people honestly believe it will when they first hear about it, and until they have facts on the other side, the long perspective of history and human progress, and a clear idea of what is humanly possible, radical theories will pass at face value. The latest word in medical theory is glands. Yesterday it was blood pressure or suppressed wishes; the day before ade- noids or Metchnikoff’s microbes. To-day glands promise to explain everything from Willie’s backwardness in school to the fat lady and the circus giant. And it may well be, the doctors say, that radicals are un- balanced, not mentally, but in the su- prarenal region. Feed his starved glands | with their counterparts taken from a sheep, and the soap-box orator will stop talking and seek the employment department. Maybe so. But feed the glands of conservative progress too! Straight Americanism is perhaps a little old-fashioned, but it has cured worse troubles than those of the nation to-day, and will cure these if honestly applied. Americanism is not too delicate, exclusive or complex for soap-box demonstration. It has a long record of results behind it, and far greater possibilities for future growth than any of the radical panaceas Feed it up, and make the soap box its great outdoor dispensary. 153 ur feet Do Your Feet “Stand the Gaff’’? All those who depend upon their feet for a part of their success need Jung's XXX Arch Braces. They strengthen and support the muscles, Correct fallen arches and foot-strain. Relieve tired and aching feet instantly; prevent that broken-down feeling. They are so perfect in operation that those who are enjoying their efficiency daily find them so satisfactory that they hold them pre-eminent above every other arch support or brace on the market. Comfortable and corrective, economical elastic braces. Amazingly light in weight. No ungainly humps. No leather pads. No metal plates. Insure perfect foot com- fort without the burden and annoyance of heavy leather or steel supports. They fit the feet perfectly; make walking or standing easy. 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R MacDougall & ¢ Ltd., Toront: = 2S: «see's x LANPHER CLOTH COATS SF a bigness and friendliness about a Lanpher coat that manly man—a style that impresses without DT AT = A A TT OL ae ST LT = There's commends it to the oes ‘ rf intruding it By sr. raut LANP HER, SKINNER & CO. sow. a > = 2 2-Sa -S8 22 Ss -S St 29) “Se es) ce ee ee ee ee om nme my me ee ewe aan == EVENING POST November 20,1920 A SILLY THING TO DO (Continued from Page !7) For a while I babbled away about what I had done at school, but it came over me that she wasn’t listening very attentively. “It’s rather a feather to have won the Aitchin Schol.,’’ I said. ** Must be,” she nodded. “I’m glad he’ll have someone to be pleased with.” “He?” “Ralph.” “But why do you say that?’ “Don’t know.” “Sounded as if he wouldn’t with you.” “P’raps he won't.” “T say, Gerry, what's up?” I demanded. “You keep saying things I don’t get the hang of.” “Nothing’s up, Dennis. stock is very low.” She looked at me, then fired a direct question: ‘‘Dennis, have you ever been a disappointment to your father?” “Chuck it,” I said. “You're not going to come the heavy stepmother on me.” “T asked seriously.” “Oh, I don’t know. purpose.”” And I told her the yarn about the gam- bling business. I thought she looked even paler when I had finished. “Did he forgive you?” “Yes, rather. You see I promised I wouldn’t touch another gamble at school.” “T see—and you kept your promise?” “Yes, I have.” “Supposing you'd broken it?”’ od shouldn't have, because “Well?” “T think he’d have been most awfully cut up.” “And you ‘d shave hated tha Pe course. Gerry rose and stood by the mantelpiece. “‘T suppose it’s easy for some people to do the right thing.” She rapped with her foot. “It’s jolly easy for others not to. Dennis, can you recognize the rebellion germ when you see it?” “Rebellion germ?” I repeated. She nodded. “‘Someone shakes a head and says ‘Be careful! The ice won’t hold!’ And you snap your fingers and slide across it.” “Oh, rather. I’ve done that.” “Tt isn’t perverse, you know—only silly and independent; but it’s so jolly hard to go home afterward and shiver before the fire while your wet clothes are steaming on the rack. That someone thinks you did it because you've no sense of right—that someone can’t understand it was because you wanted to be right yourself—or be a help. There! That’s lunch—come along.” “Gerry,” I said, “I think you've forgot- ten our pact. You promised to let me help you if ever you were in need.” “But I’m not,” she answered. “Then answer me one question and | won't bother you again.” “Go ahead.’ “TIs—is there anything wrong between you and the guy’nor?”’ She hesitated, then: “‘There isn’t any- one in the world I love so much or I want to please more. If I’m down it’s on my own account.” “Well then, why is “Full stop,” said Gerry, and taking my arm led me in to lunch. I was pretty bucked when later in the afternoon I got a wire from the guv’nor saying he would be at Charing Cross at ten-thirty next morning. ‘Bravo you for earning the bike,”’ he wrote. ‘ We'll buy it to-morrow or burst.” Gerry had a wire, too, which read rather mysteriously: “Everything O.K. So don’t worry any more.” I asked what it meant. “Only that I’m much luckier than I’ve any right to be,” she answered, and that was all. I got up bright and early next morning and wandered into the drawing-room to have a glance at The Mirror. I didn’t notice Gerry until I almost stum- bled upon her. She was seated at the writ- be pleased Just at present P’raps, but not on t?” | ing table, her head in the angle of her arm, and her little shoulders shaken with dry silent sobs. “Gerry, Gerry!"’ I cried. “Gerry, what For answer she sat up quickly, snatched at two or three opened letters that lay on the flap before her, and dropped them into the drawer. She turned the key in the lock, withdrew it and put it in one of the pigeon- holes. “You shouldn’t have come in like that— you startled me.” “I’m sorry—I didn’t know e “Tt’s all right—it’s nothing. I—TI’ll go and finish dressing.’ She turned at the door. “I think you’d better go and meet Ralph at the station. I—I’m too miserable with myself.” “But, Gerry, it ’ud hurt him frightfully if you weren’t there.’ “Oh, let me alone!” she wailed, and the door closed. To this day I don’t know whether I acted rightly or wrongly. I only know I felt sure the two people I cared for most were drifting apart. There is a wholesome enough code about touching private corre- spondence, but there was never a code in- vented which covered every possibility. That’s why I found myself unlocking Gerry’s table drawer before I had time to realize the rights or wrongs of the case. The first letter I picked up was enough for me: “Dear Mrs. Casement: I shall feel ob- liged if you would forward your cheque for £70 before the 27th inst. I trust that your unlucky bank will not dise ourage you from another visit to our tables.” It was signed ““P, Babcock” andin the tep right-hand corner was embossed an ace of spades and an address in the West Crom- well Road. I put the letter back in the drawer and returned the key and sat down to think Gerry had been gambling, and she couldn’t pay. Sooner or later she would have to tell father. Of course I reasoned all wrong, but I guessed she was frightened to make the confession. Perhaps, like myself, she had promised to have nothing to do with gambling and knew what a stab it would give him to know she had broken her word. Poor little kid, and this ought to have been such a rippingly happy day for her too. I was certain she had meant no harm and probably had just tumbled accidentally into a gambling set and been thoroughly dunned. A wild desire to go round and punch the head of P. Babcock came over me, but there was no good in that notion. The money was owing and someone would have to parker up. Then I thought of my promise to Gerry, and with the sc came an idea. It was a good idea, but per- haps I shan’t be blamed if I didn’t jump at it and instead wasted time sorting my mind for a possible alternative. I came back to it at last, driven, I suppose, by the extremity of the situation. There was no other way that I could see and when I walked into the dining room I was resolved to follow it. Gerry came in two minutes after and I tackled her straight away. “*Look here,”’ I said, “‘ you've got to come to the station, and what’s more you've got to say not hing ove rc hristmas about what’s been worrying you. “‘Any more orders?” said she. “No, that’s all. But as a favor I ask you to make the guv’nor’s homecoming a cheery one. You're too much of a sport to refuse that.’’ “Did you ever hear Ralph say put off till to-morrow what should be done to- day?” “He doesn’t know everything,” I an- swered. “You will do what I ask, won't you: : ad “All right, have it your own way,” she nodded. The guv’nor looked tremendously fit, and I never saw him in better fettle. He was no end bucked about the Aitchin Scholarship. “IT think we'll have to put a side ear on that motor bike,”’ he said. Gerry helped him unpack, and from the dining room where I was waiting I heard them chattering away like a couple of kids over the job. Prese ontly he drifted i in to me for a glass of sherry and a biscuit, and I chose that moment for the ordeal. “T’m awfully pleased about you, old chap,” he said. ‘It's first rate. Getting your remove is good too. I won’t keep you talking now, as I expect you're crazy to get on with this shopping expedition.” I crossed over to the door and closed it. “The re’s something I wanted to say first,’’ I blurted out. “Well? On you go!” (Continued on Page 15.) a

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ee ae —- THE SATURDAY EVENING POST re Do you know what it means to VOUr por ketbook to get the right electric motor on a piece of machinery: Lincoln Motors are 40 degree motors— their capacity for work is approximately 25°) greater than the “continuous rated ” motor The illustration above shows one actual instance out of thou- ands where firms are buying bigger motors and paying larger power bills than they should. Such waste is not the fault of any one in particular. It simply results trom the old system of taking a machine with an arbitrary ind inaccurate horse power rating and trying to drive it with an | ctric motor which rates “about the same Vhere is a scientific way to select a motor for a machine so that the two will absolutely fit and do the maximum amount of work at the lowest possible cost for power. That 1S by aC tually trying the two together and checking the result. Lincoln Engineers, because they specialize on this one subject, can select motors for a machine by this scientific method. They work with the machinery manuiacturer—test out motors on machines in actual operation measure the results with delicate instruments, Then they recommend a motor of correct type and size for ich model of machine—even design a special motor if that be cessary —and guarantee that motor to do the work in the best vay, at the lowest power cost ’ very user of motor driven machinery can save money by specifying that his machines come ready equipped with | neoln Motor we service for then money by having Lincoln Engineer test i Every machinery maker can vive his custome! recommend motors for his compl re line “ “Link Up With Lincoln” Also Sold By The Fairbanks Co. Lincola Motors are the only motors sold Branch Offices by the 23 branches of The Fairbanks Co. under their famous Fairbanks “OK Branch Offices New York Cit = The Lincoln Electric Company sere General Offices and Factory, Cleveland, Ohio t I bu I vd b tor r The Lincoln Electric Co. of Canada, Ltd., Toronto-Montreal

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156 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST aaoSa » Tg “47 . Sr 0 HAUGHTON ELEVATORS SG) gan are SAFE Wy a ae . —_— ~spe AUGHTON engineering principles do more than meet the construction and _ test requirements of safety codes. They insure safety under all conditions and throughout the entire life of the equipment. Liberal design and extreme construction stand- ards afford the best guarantee against interrup- tion of service and the greatest certainty of continued safe operation no matter how constant and severe the duty. The strength and durability of Haughton Elevators not only insure maximum safety, but also permit the greatest efficiency and economy of operation and reduce repair and upkeep expense to the minimum. THE HAUGHTON ELEVATOR AND MACHINE CO. ToLepo, Onto November 20,1920 | | ——_— a A HAUGH ION ELEVAIORS

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-- —— (Continued from Page 154) “It—it’s about—oh, look here, you re- member that beastly gambling business?” “Pff! We buried that ages ago.” “‘N-no—not altogether,” I said He shot a queer glance at me, then shook his head. “My dear old fellow, when you gave me your word off your own bat that you'd never touch another card at school I knew there was nothin g more to worry about on that score I grab bed at a straw—a very wispy one. ‘It—it was a roulette board,” I stam- mered I had seen his mouth go hard before on one or two oceasions, but never for any- thing I had done. Ugh! How I hated it. “That’s rather a miserable quibble, Dennis, * he said slowly ‘T know,’ * I answered. ‘‘You—you don’t think I’m proud of myself!’ He lit a cigar and wandered toward the window. The silence seemed to last for ages “Aren't you going to say Dad?” “I’m doing my best,” he answered, ‘‘to find what solace I can in the fact that yot told me.” I knew how perfectly rotten my reply was bound to appear. ‘I had to becausé a lot.” The look on his face when he turned round almost made me chuck the whole business and tell him the truth. “Oh, so that’s the way of it? How much?” I mumbled the amount under my breath. ‘Seventy pounds,” he repeated. ‘Sev- enty?” Then it was thi ing seemed to come easily and I told a colt n story about a rich chap I'd been playing with who'd taken the money off me “‘And he threatens anything, because I lost such “to write ’ I added, to the Head if I don’t pay up straight away.” I received a very emphatic answer to that “Does he want to get expelled himself, then?” One lie gives the lead to another. “He left school this term,” I replied. It was characteristic of my father that he never asked the fellow’s name. Esa api him IOU's?” shook my head ‘Then he ‘s no proof.” ‘None.” ‘And that never occurred to you as a solution ?”’ I flamed up “*T shouldn’t have tl ought you ‘d make a rotten suggestion like that!” “T asked you,” he said pointedly. ‘The sample of honesty you've given me is pretty imperfect.” And that wa true dropped my head And so,”’ he went on, to frank the debt?”’ ““Yes,”’ I mumbled ‘I see—you break the rules and your word, and I pay. Is that the idea?”’ “It’s a debt of honor.” ‘I won't discuss the honor,” he said, “except to remind you that that kind of debt should be met by the person who con- tracts it.” ‘I haven't the money, dad. ‘Then you must raise a mortgage “There’s nothing I can mortgage.” ‘I had put aside rather more than that sum to buy you a motor bike.” I saw then what he was driving at. “Oh, dad!’ I gasped ‘Anything wrong with the suggestion?”’ It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t told some of my particular pals that I was going to h ave the motor bike. Selbourne and Cuffley both had them, and we'd fixed a run together for Boxing Day. Besides, I never | ad wanted a thing so much before. oo gl 1v’nor put the question again. "| blurted out; “‘it’s fair enough.” He took out his note case and counted seven tenners upon the table. ‘Take ’em,” he said, “and get it into your head that I’m no better pleased to spend the money this way than you are. I think we can call it a disappointment all enough, too I “you expect me round.”” Then all of a sudden his voice went queer. “Oh!” he said. ‘“ Why did you give me your word?” I just pic ‘ked up the noies mechanically and put them in my pocket. At the door he turned, took a brace on himself, and said: ‘You can count yourself lucky I was able to pay. I didn’t tell you before, but things have been touch and go. If I hadn't been on the spot at the right moment we should have gone under good and hard.” “Tf I’d known ” | began. “T’ll do you the credit to believe that,” he cut in. “I left you in ignorance because I didn’t want to worry you. Gerry knew.” “Gerry knew?” [ repeated. But before he had time to answer, Gerry, wrap yped in furs, ¢ ame into the room. ‘Taxi’s waiting!" she cried. ‘We ought to hurry.” “T’ll just get my coat,” and went out. “Hurry up, Dennis!” “I’m not coming,” I said “But we're going to Great Street after lunch.’ ‘I’m not going to buy a motor bike “Not going to buy , “No. Gerry, did you know the guv’nor had been nearly broke?” **Course | did.” “And yet “What?” “Oh, nothing.” The guv’nor came ir “Ready,” he said. “Ralph, what’s wrong with He says he’s not coming out.”’ “T expect he has something else to do. Come along, dear.” I heard the front door slam and pres- ently, from below, the hum of a taxi mov- ing up the street. Looking back I’m not really so ashamed of having blubbed. I'd let the guv’nor think me an absolute outsider. I'd done myself in for the bike, and, worst of all, Gerry had known all along that things were dicky, and in spite of that had fooled about and lost money when it was needed. Oh, Lord, that was a rotten day! After a bit I pulled myself together, stuck the notes in an envelope with a few lines to say where they came from, and registered it at the post-office at the corner of the street. Then I came home to a solitary lunch of cold mutton—pretty near the bone—and an afternoon without a soul to speak to. It was after six before the guv’nor and Gerry returned. He had been making a great effort to seem in form, but I guessed it was only a sham. What I had told him earlier in the day had done away with his real high spirits. Gerry, too, in spite of her laughter ~y talk, had the air of being worried and nervous. I was frankly too miserable to pretend to be otherwise, and as soon as I could manage it slipped off to change for dinner. While I was changing the guv’nor came into my room to me. “Look here,” said he, ‘‘the thing’s over, Dennis, and there’s no good brooding over it. We ‘ll get it out of our heads as soon as we can. “‘ Are you likely to get it out of yours?” I blurted out. “T shall do my best. Let’s shake hands.” “No,” I stammered. “ You're only try- ing to be decent—but you think all the time I’ve behaved like a bounder.” He didn’t answer that and I couldn't blame him. “I’ve offered to shake hands,” he re- peated. “It’s your own affair if you'd rather not.” Hewaited for imoment, but I did nothing. “Very well,” he said; “but I must ask you not to sulk in front of Gerry. That isn’t playing the game.” The door clicked and he was gone. I suppose I owe it to his departure that I didn’t swing round and give away the whole show. It gave me a minute to think and I saw what a measly trick it would be to croak just because the load was heavier than I'd bargained for. Besides, I always had wanted to do something for Gerry, and I’d got my wish. It’s rather queer, but there’s a kind of satisfaction in taking gruel for a thing you haven’t done. so jolly sorry for yourself, and somehow that kind of sets you up. 'T any rate I said the guv’nor, Portland ’ 1 began. 1, buttoning his coat. Dennis? THE SATURDAY You can be | EVENING POST ss ~ pADLS JAM: Righ’Ripe Fruit and Pure _ Nothing Else .» . You can use PAUL of fresh berriés le the fruit cocktails. 2: © give spice to mivats. ‘ , " To add richness to ; In fruit salads. ~ In shorteakes % As (illing tm caltebeo>. In pu yi and sauces. To give flavor to ice creams With The ripe berry flavors add est to any mesh Send 4c today tor “From the Valley of the Mountain.” It tells how’we é preserve fresh berries in pure sugar and how you may serve them. 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THE SATURDAY EVENING POST &

Every day more men are buying The Florsheim Shoe again, permanently. Its sound merits and reputation do not disappoint. Quality considered The Florsheim Shoe sells at a relatively low price. Florsheim Quality is unusual; Florsheim prices are reasonable. The name in every pair. THE FLORSHEIM SHOE COMPANY Manufacturers Chicago The Hampton—Style M-58 Booklet—"' Styles of the Times on request,

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| came to dinner that night determined to | make the best of it, and though I dare say it wasn’t much of a show, I’m glad I made the effort. Once I saw the guv’nor looking at me approvingly, and that helped no end. While we were at dessert the maid entered with a note on a salver. “‘A messenger brought it by hand,” she said. The guv’nor opened it in a mechanical sort of way and glanced at the contents. “There's no answer,” he said, and Nellie went out. He seemed to puzzle for a moment, then he glanced queerly at me. “T’ve made a mistake,” he said is intended for you.” I hadn’t the smallest idea what it was, | and held out my hand. As he passed the letter over I caught sight of an ace of spades in the top right-hand corner. Gerry must have seen it, too, for the glimpse I had of her face showed it to be quite white. I suppose I turned a pretty deep crimson. I knew my cheeks felt on fire. | “Yes, it’s for me,”” I stammered. Then the gov’nor spoke one word very softly, and it cut across me like a whip: “Liar.” I sprang to my feet. “‘That’s not true! ”

“This “Every word was a lie! Get out of the room. I'll talk to you later.” For a second I faced him, then I saw how hopeless it all was, and turned to obey. As I touched the door handle Gerry spoke. “‘T want to see that letter,” she said. “Let him go,” said my father. “I’d rather you knew nothing of this.” “T want to see that letter,”’ she repeated. “You were told to go, Dennis. Is it your wish she should see the letter?” “N-no,” I stammered, and pulled open the door. “Dennis, come back!”’ “Oh, Gerry, shut up!” I cried. be such a fool!”’ “T want—I’'m going to see that letter!” “Why?” he demanded. “‘ What interest can it have for you?” “T want it because I believe it is mine.”’ “Tt isn’t yours—it isn’t!’’ I returned. | “Then it has nothing to do with a debt for seventy pounds?”’ she asked. For a second my father stared at her, bewildered, then he turned to me with what seemed the only explanation. “So you tried to get the money from her first, eh?”’ It was the only chance, and I took it. “Don’t November 20,1920 “Yes,” I said. “It’s no good, Gerry; I had to pay up, so I went to the guv’nor and asked him for it.” “For what?” “The seventy péunds. For heaven’s sake don’t ask any nfore about it! It’s my pigeon, let’s leave it at that.” And I tried to signal her to be quiet. Gerry looked at me very hard, then at the guv’nor. “Ralph,” she said, “‘I don’t understand. That debt was mine. A gambling debt. I lost at roulette. Dennis has nothing to do with it—nothing at all.” “Yours?” a “Wait a minute,” he said. ‘Let me understand this.”” Then he turned away and put his elbows on the mantelpiece. “Oh, Ralph, I didn’t mean any harm! You were hard up and I thought it would be so splendid to make some money—to pay for the flat and the housekeeping, so if things went really wrong I should have helped. Of course I lost, and I was mis- erable to have been such a fool. I didn’t know you would feel like this about it.’’ “T shouldn’t have cared if you’d lost a thousand,”” he answered, ‘“‘but to let my boy be the scapegoat is more than I can swallow with comfort. Dennis, old chap, I’m sorry. Yours, at least, was a fine effort.” “No, it wasn’t!’’ I cried. “It jolly well wasn't. I just butted in where I'd no right. She never asked me—never told me. I saw she was fretting about something, so I broke open her table drawer and found out. I thought it "ud be easy to make you pay. I’ve messed up everything.” And suddenly I felt a warm soft arm go round my neck and a warm wet cheek touch mine. “Oh, Dennis, Dennis, you perfect sweet!”’ trembled a voice in my ear. “ You did all that for me!” “Oh, rot—rats!”’ said I. Then the guv’nor turned round and looked at us, and all the worry had gone out of his face. “You queer kids,” he said, “hanging to one another as if the bottom had fallen out of the universe. And, Lord knows, it hasn’t. No, don’t let go—but it comes over me very forcibly that if three isn’t too many I'd like to Join in.” Later on he said: “By the way, I or- dered that bike this afternoon. It was weak of me, but I did it. A kind of offering to the gods, it was.”

| THE SATURDAY EVENING POST IS fully protected by copyright. The use of our articles or quotations from them for advertising promotions and stock-selling schemes is never authorized.

PAGE Venetian Lovers—Sir Philip Gibbs & Fools First—-Hugh MacNair Kahler 12 A Silly Thing to Do— Roland Pertwee 16 Man to Man—Lawrence Perry 26 SERIALS | The Other Mr. Benedict—Holworthy Hall ree ee c, 3 The Whiskered Footman— Edgar Jepson at eee 20 Seed of the Sun— Wallace Irwin 22 ARTICLES | Moscow’s Bid for World Power — Leo Pasvolsky Se es 6 Fool Folks—By an Old Guide 10 Cornering Cascades—William C. Gregg Rte arti 11 Alvaro Obregon: As Military Leader—Dr. E. J. Dillon a se 14 Forty Years of a Diplomat’s Life— Baron Rosen Rica 18 When Soap Box Meets Soap Box— James H. Collins <_< 19 An Announcement — Herbert Hoover ‘ 25 DEPARTMENTS Editorials ee . 24 Everybody's Business— Floyd W. Parsons 30 Filthy Lucre— Robert Quillen 84 Table of Contents November 20, 1920 SHORT STORIES

IMPORTANT NOTICE TO READERS: A Request for Change of Address must reach us at least thirty days before the date of the issue with which it is to take effect. Duplicate copies cannot be sent to replace those undelivered through failure to send such advance notice. Be sure to give your old address as well as the new one.

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OL a

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— ——————— Se ET I THE SATURDAY EVENING POST OST of the letters he gets, most of his telegrams, all cry ‘‘When—when —when will my job be finished ?”’ Most of his too-frequent telephone calls are to find out when he will finish a piece of work. Most questions that begin with ‘‘When” are grossly unsympathetic. Whistler, in reply to the impatient sitter, suavely answered ‘*Perhaps never’’—an answer, of course, which no printer can make. For, no matter how much art is expected of a printer, his customers re- fuse to treat him as anything but a business man—and a very resourceful and wonder- working business man at that. In addition to Better Paper, the printer requires something else before he can produce Better Printing. And that is the element of moral support from his customers. To aid materially in the prompt production of more beautiful work, S. D. Warren Com- pany offers to printers and buyers of printing a dozen standard grades of printing papers. But in addition §. D. Warren Company be- speaks for your printer, and for all printers, a higher degree of sympathetic support, a little less insistence on ‘‘When?’’ and a little more patience with him when he encounters difhi- culties in his efforts to give you work that will make money for you. 5. D. WARREN COMPANY, ““When?” of an Bosron, Mass. “The ‘Burden of Every ‘Printers Mail is When?. Briefly classified, Warren’s Standard Printing Warren's Cameo Du artistic half-t Warren's Warrentown Coated Book ¢ half-tone a Warren's Cumberland Coated Book ws od enades Warren's Printone ated. Better th : oheee dds enti Warren's Artogravure fiset pr Warren's Cumberland Machine Book ee apers are Warren's Silkote Warren's L ustro Warren's Library Text Warren's Cumberland Super Book andard Warren's Olde Style A wa Warren's India ~ a I paper be tter | printing | wm | | | |

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160 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 20,1920 Autocar Assets are f Every Autocar Owner Assets o Chassis (1%-2 Ton) $2300, 97-inch Wheelbase $2400, 120-inch Wheelbase Aut Wherever there’s a road The distinctive name, which has always stood for efhciency in transportation. The distinctive design, which is the basis of its recognized dependability and economy. The plant at Ardmore, Pa., where the Autocar standard of manufacture has been maintained for over twenty years. The national system of direct factory branches, developed through a long period of years to assure every Autocar owner maximum operation at minimum expense. Upon these is built that greatest of all assets—a nation-wide confidence in Autocar transportation—evidenced by thousands of° satisfied users in every line of business. THE AUTOCAR COMPANY, Ardmore, Paz, estabiishes 1897 The Autocar Sales and Service Company New York Boston Philadelphia Pittsburg Chicago San Francisco Brooklyn Providence Camden Baltimore St. Louis Sacramento Bronx Worcester \llentown Washingt Dallas Oakland Newark New Haven Wilmington Richmond Los Angeles Stockton Schenectady Springfield Atlantic Cit Atlanta San Diego Fresno San Jos Syracuse Represe nted by these Factory Branche ocar me en te te ~_—

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Smell Fels- Naptha t! odor of naptha sufficient quantity t rt led, you can tell I For Washing Machines Fels-N I t hine do even better machine sticky i Fels-Naptha This g t f t er rt and gives the Make your own flakes containing naptha 2 1S a great f Pp me chit or ' ; 1 promptly and work ha dissolves the dirt, an. Better than soap How many uses in your home? t carpets, t dwork instant- tub, washstand., sink. GOLDEN e golden BAR naptha. the very last sliver! bar with ‘he clean naptha odor ~~ ELS-NAPTHA is golden because of the natural a4 color of the good materials that help to hold the And Fels-Naptha does hold its naptha—to The clean naptha odor of Fels-Naptha proves that real naptha is in it. Naptha (a product somewhat similar to gaso- line) is that surprising dirt-loosener used by dry-cleaners to cleanse and freshen cloth—even the most delicate fabrics and colors. Fels-Naptha is good soap plus rea naptha, combined the | —the greatest clothes-cl insing combina- tion ever invented—a super-soa] When Fels-Naptha comes in contact with w iteT (even ¢ | lukew irm) the naptha instantly and completely mixes sof, of I with the water it get nt ever fibre of the cloth It seek mut the dirt and loosens its hold Then the foamy white Fels-Naptha suds speedily flush the dirt away This saves hard rubbing ( lothes come out fa Fels Naptha wash thoroughly clean and sweet. White fabrics keep snowy-whit Of course you may boil clothes with Fels-Naptha if you choose, but there is no need—Fels-Naptha will loose lirt water If \ va Fels-} } . els-i i} lil 4 if work The t n ode | in ul i | } that last nor i Th ec tf I ! c ican of thes¢ trnre FELS & CO., PHILADELPHIA

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