The Cecil Whig., 1885-12-12
Rp"'"'': A"''h'''. fiction.
THE STRIKE AT McGUFFIN'S MILL
A Tale of Capital and Labor, by Pa.
tience Sta apIeton.
copyrighted by S. S. Mcclure ]

When McGufin went to Webster
named after the great Daniel-the
town was fguratively on its last legs.
1t had no railroad, no business in it.
quiet streets, and no energy in its in
habitants. McGufin was young, am
bilious and had some capital. He
found the ''crick" running through
Webster to be just what he wanted SC
he bought land and water privilege,
and before the townspeople awoke
from the stupor into which they had
fallen at hearing that stranger was in
their midst and had bought the worth
less rocky land by the "crick," a big
flour mill rose six stories high above
the rushing water, and wo1kmen, like
busy ants, swarmed all over It's high
walls. McGufin's mill prospered,
and the McGufin brand of flour be-
came celebrated. Webster felt tide
of prosperity; for miles around the
farmers found market for their corn
and wheat, and their coming and 60
ing made hustle and activity.
Bill Blossom had been the ne'er do
weel of Webster. His dead parents
had left him a fortune, which he wasted
in few years. He lived the most OF
his time in New York, coming home
occasionally with a few wild compan-
ions and opening his deserted home,
where he held wild revelries, and set
all the town talking against him. In
Webster to be like Bill Blossom was to
be the very acme of wlldness and
wickedness
Judge the surprise of the town
when grave, silent 81 McGuffin made
Bill-then humble, poor and much
out at the elbows-bookkeeper in his
mill. A few friendly neighbors remon-
strated with ST about it. He listened
to them with polite attention, but said
firmly:
"Willlam and were college chums
l worked my way through l was bit,
terly poor. He helped me gener,
ously, and his recommendation got
me the place where made the money
that started me here. l like and trust
William with all my heart"
They were touched by his graft
tude; they even felt that they might
have misjudged the black sheep q
little.
Two years passed and one day S
McGufin found himself bankrupt. His
bookkeeper had been robbing him all
the time by false accounts, and wher
the exposure must come had fled tc
Canada with SIS, 600. ST McGufir
had earned his money by hard toll and
rigid economy; now the work and
saving of twenty years was utterly lost
to him. Another man took his mill
and erected more buildings-a shrewd
old Scotchman-a bachelor like 81
He kept the latter as bookkeeper, and
ST, lean, lank, gray-haired before his
time, round -shouldered, with shamb-
ling gait, went back to work in the
mill where he had once been master.
In the next twenty years Webster
grew to be a great city. The foul
mills were enlarged till they seemed
like gigantic octopus gathering for it:
use all the people and industry in the
city. When the old Scotchman died
ST McGuffin was his heir, heir to q
million, master of the mills, and sole
owner of the world-famed McGuh1r
brand of flour-for the old name had
been kept. He was a clean-shaven
bent old man of 60 now. Friendless
wifeless, childless man loving only
wealth, having only bitterness toware
the world, and who ever felt fierce un
dying hate to the bookkeeper who hac
ruined his life.
Around the mill were narrow streets
where close together, all neglected ane
filthy, were the homes of the mill men
Here 81 McGuffin often walked in tht
evening. He liked to watch the mer
at home, and in the days of his pow
erty he had lived in one Of these i'll
smelling lanes. Recalling his pas
poverty, ST walked one night down /:
crooked lane to an old cottage unde
a big elm. Here he had lived tn,
first ten wears after hi, bookkeeper hat
ruined him.
The place had been tenantless ;