Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1888-02-01

in a week." and be shut the Office door after
them with a slam.
"But You have lot those men SO away
thinking you had just as lief they would DO
burned TO DEATH" expostulated Philip, flush
ing with excitement.
"Nothng OF the kind, sir, only that--but
do you take sides with theml That is tho
last thing expected, that my own son would
take part against me.n Possibly tho old
gentleman was little ashamed OF having
spoken quito as harshly 10 the worknen ns
he had. IL would be repeated all about
town. And IL was certainly incautious, but
his very uneasineSs made him the more pro-
voked at Philips suggestion. 81 presume
you picked up few socialistic ideas at
school No doubt you would like TO put on
the fire escapes out of tho money your
mother left you.n He rang the bell violently.
"Yes would" exclaimed Philip, his eyes
lighting up. II will be very glad 10 pay for
it all II seems unjust, somehow, % crowd
the men and girls into the mills rs thick rs
they can work, and not provide so but that
they all may be burned to-
t'Mary, bring those three mon back" In
terrupted Mr. Breton.
"But they are ON the street by this"
at makes no difference" and the cholcric
old gentleman brought his fist down with
crash on the table "Go after them II you
have TO chase them mile. Bring them back,
l say"
The little office clock licked its loudcst 10
break the silence until the door opened 20 let
in the returning committee. What could II
meant Mr.. Breton stood with his back
turned TO them, drumming on the window
pane, while Philip, pale and uncomfortable,
looked nervously at his father and then at
the three awkward figures in the doorway,
with the breathless servant girl behind them
waiting for startling developments
'You can report to your meeting,' said
Mr. Breton in constrained voice, without
facing the workmen, THAT my son will put
on the fire escapes at his own expense That
is all.n
The men were astonished. So the young
mill owners son had begun to redeem his
promise of the night of the fire There were
rough words of gratitude on their lips, their
hearts were in a glow, after the first chill of
disappointment, but there was an influence
in the little office that hushed their eager
speech, and they only ducked their heads in
awkward acknowledgement and followed the
maid out.
"Did you suppose" said Mr., Breton in
calmer tone as he left the window and took
his chair by the long table, that was go
ing to let you pay for those fire escapesl Not
penny, my dear boy, but you can have the
credit of it, discredit / should call it." He
opened the drawer and drew out a sheet Of
business paper
1.-THE Breton Mills" was printed at the top.
He dipped his pen in the ink and wrote in the
date.
Then he wrote tho address, as follows:
"John I. Giddings, Esq, Attorney at Law.
42 Loring street, Lockout"
4 ..AN. Il. -
the habit Of talking OF my business to any
body, but presume it is your right to know
this.n Mr.. Breton laid down his pen and
clasped his hands behind his back. ~ want
to make this mill four times its present size;
/ haven't the money but other men have.
am going to take those other men in with
me, and then turn the whole thing into cor
poration Giddings is managing it for me"
Philips face fell A corpOration Then
all his thoughts of some day letting q little
light into the lives of the villagers so far
always in the shadow, his dreams which had
lent new dignity TO his life, were all for
nothing. soulless corporation, with no
body to blame for an act of injusticel How
it would rivet the shackles of the poor past
any power of his hands to loose them.
"What is the trouble, my boyi' smiled his
father, in his superior wisdom. Zone would
think you wanted the tough job have had,
over again. 1t is too much, too much for
man; why, thought was doing you kind
ness. A man thinks, at first, he is strong,
that he won't care for the murmurs and the
threatenings of his help, but he gets tired
The amount of power, almost like Gods, Phl-
lip" said Mr. Breton excitodly, "almost like
Gods, which a big fortune gives man, is
too much, too much" He came around the
table, and put his hand on his sons shoulder.
"The people arr poor and unhappy; we can't
shut our eyes to it. Don't we all WONDER"
he went on in this new, strange mood Philip
was fairly startled at, "dont we all wonder
what life is worth to them that they are so
hungry for the bread that keeps the breath in
theml And they all blame the men who own
the mills; they think it is our hardness and
injustice. A man may know he is all right,
that rich men have always done as he IL
doing, that the few always have the best Of
everythinR,7and seem to deprive the masses
of their rights But it wears on man; he
wants to get behind somebody OF something
occasionally"
The little office clock licked on restlessly,
for another week, and Philip. had como to
feel that to be in love may be the most ter
rible misfortune Of mans life His pride
had not let him call again on Bertha for days
of Distress days of hot, dry wretchedness,
his quenchless passion that met only insult.
1t was insult, as he felt it, for lover has
Bensibilities painfully acute, and can detect
the slightest change In womans relations
with him, by signs too subtle for unstimu-
lated observation. A hairs breadth varia-
ton in tone makes mysterious revelations,
sweet or bitter to him; shade of expression
in the beautiful blue eyes, has meaning
clearer than words, to thrill him with hope,
or plunge him into despair. And in those
days, too he found time to remember how
unloverlike Bertha had always been to him,
and the many times she had met his ardor
with GOODNESS, with all the instances of hard
ness and neglect she had melted out to his de-
votion, rose up in his mind like hideous sins
that will not be forgot How he had fooled
himself and yet he had been SO happy in his
delusion.
There came light tap at the door. He
closed the drawers and turned about in his
chair in time to see Mary, the maid, enter
with a letter for him. He glanced at tho
writing, and then was so angry at the sweet
glow about his heart that he tossed the letter
carelessly on the table.
The maid had fingered with woman's I'M
wearying taste for sentiment; but now she
slammed the door on him and went bridling
down the hall in high dudgeon-
"He's pretty beau, he is" she muttered;
eff was that girl of his I'd teach him to
treat my love letters that way"
But the maid did not see, for the door was
shut, what might have better suited her ideas
Of propriety. Her young master had torn
open the envelope and read the three lines of
the letter before Mary had finished her dis
gusted soliloquy. Then he reread it a dozen
times and behaved generally in as foolish a
fashion as the most exacting sweetheart could
have desired. But there were only three
lines
~ have not deserved it, do not deserve