The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1885-07-24

| LAoneHGS OF Sllence, some one put q
query in which lurked suggestion.
Lenoir acted finely at Anderson
vile, too, didn't he, Brewster?'
The lumberman gave short rejoin-
der, consulted his watch, and rose to
go. Despite the self-depreciation OF
his narrative, all were aware that he
had been one of those noble specimens
of American manhood who had sur
viyed the horrors of that awful expert
ence, and finally emerged an emaciated
wreck of humanity whose heroic devo-
ton to noble principle will resound
throughout the everlasting ages. But
he could never be betrayed into any re-
lation of his prison experience. he
pulled on his driving gloves, nodded
cool adieux to the score or more OF
loungers, and was soon driving at a
quick pace up Market street, and out
Sixth. For the first few blocks the well
paved street was lined with handsome
buildings and presented the appearance
of an important thoroughfare; but, as
he progressed, the buildings dwindled
in stature and were occasionally al
ternated with a handsome, comfortable
residence, and the pavement grew I'M
even. Half mile further the street
abandoned all pretense at smartness,
trailed humbly between one-storied
warehouses, leaped railroad track,
lost itself in maze of switches, and
resumed existence III the guise of a
wagon road, terminating with dismal
wooden structure, standing in desc
late region and fanked on one side by
tall lumber piles. The clerks and day
laborers were filing away, and the
night-watchman, q quiet-mannered
man, with an unlit lantern in his hand,
stood on the steps.
"Well, Martin, what success?'
81 gave them warning, sir, to clear
out, early this morning, and kicked
their houses over after they left, for
fear they'd be back again tonight, like
rats-that is, all but one"
Great guns, man! Don't you know
ones as bad as dozen? [ can't get a
dollar of insurance on the stock with
out paying double rates until | can
satisfy the company that the whole
tribe is gone"
The tribe referred to by Brewster
consisted of floating population of
disreputablo vagabonds, allied in
character to the hoodlums and
criminals commonly known as ''wharf-
rats" and hay-bunkers, who
had squatted on the dumps, !"
and utilized the cans plenti-
fully scattered over the ground in the
construction of a miniature village. The
members of this peculiar sub-stratum
of society were tabled to exc out their
sustenance by diligent grubbing in the
heaps by which they were surrounded.
They were looked upon by the police
and the public as a dangerous class of
citizens, and the underwriters very
wisely refused to insure property in
their proximity at the ordinary rates.
Martin, meanwhile, advanced a lame
self-defense.
ut was early, and he hadn't shown
himself, sir. | didn't quite like to knock
this house down about his ears You,
see, Mr.. Brewster, he's different like
from the rest-quite carries himself
above them, you know"
This stammering communication
amused Brewster. A queer notion en-
tered his head. He would confront the
usurper himself and see what manner
OF creature he was. He called to the
office-boy who was walking down
the road, bidding him drive up
to the house and inform his wife that
he would be detained a couple of
hours.
The two men, left alone, stood at the
window and looked in the direction of
the RACED village, to detect some sign of
life; but they saw only stray dog who
wandered disconsolately amid the ruins,
shifting the heaps of garbage with
disdainful air. The light waned and
the SERTED ranks of mist that had been
lying in wait amid the western hills
and across the straits, closed in upon
the city. The merchant grew impatient
under the long delay.
81 can't understand, Martin, why
you didn't get rid of the man along
with the rest. Did he venture to cues
tioa your authority, or my right to con-
troll my property"
'Why, you see, sir, didn't like to
speak rough to the old chap. I'd
venture to say he hasn't always been
what he is now. Fact is, l didn't speak
to him direct, | thought he'd take the
hint and leave"
''My souln' The man shrank from
the indignation and disgust expressed
in his employers tone. then fastened
to smooth away his righteous indigna-
ton with happy after thought.
Come to think of it, haven't seen
a sign of him since yesterday. Like as
not he's gone Of his own accord, I'M
less" The watohman's face became
suddenly grave.
swell, unless what?"
"He's lying down there all this time.
He was thin, weakish-looking fellow;
the kind that go off quick, sometimes y
''What ghoul you are, Martini
Brewster laughed q short, nervous
laugh. Pleasant suggestion this, that
on his own land, not forty rods away,
dead man was lying, who had per-
haps persisted from lack of proper food
and care! Then better sentiment
stirred his heart He was a narrow
souled man, but not hard-hearted.
'Take your lantern and come ahead,
Martin; no morgue on my premises, if
| can help it.
They stepped out into the chill and
darkness, carefully locking the door be-
hind them as precaution against law
less intruders. As they left behind
them the tall lumber-piles with their
sweet scent of the woods. and ap-
preached the border of Mission Creek,
malarial poisons filled the air, and a
host of unsavory odors assailed them.
Rocking vapors seemed to arise from
the putrid heaps and clutch at their
Threats with phantom fingers. Their
feet slipped and sank into the masses
of fostering decay. 1t was Brewster's
first visit to this choice portion of his
recently acquired possessions, and the
thought came to his mind that it was a
poor stick of a man who would deny
fellow-creature the hospitality of such
an accursed spot, on any other grounds
than that of its total unfitness for
human occupancy Suddenly Martin
brought up with a short step, swinging
his lantern around to illuminate the
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