The Press., 1896-03-26

SCrOk0 Ol JISnlulDS 4FO1l all apparently clear sky struck an unexpected object ill an unexl ected way and startled the city as even the Sawtelle murder had not done.
 CHAPTER V.
 My name is Jimmy James, and don t care who knows it. I'm tourist, I'll allow, but 1 m no tramp, and 1 nev- CT jumped case Thanks to you, Caleb Sawtelle, I've held 'em and lost lem all the way from Cape Cod to the Gold en Gate. You've follered me every where, and you've caused me to lose many and many good sitiwation. I've shook hands with old Thurlow Weed, James Gordon Bennett, George w. Childs, James F. Storey and all the best editors and newspaper publishers ill this country. Why, d-n you, 1 set type l with Horace Greeley away back in the l fifties, and I've slept on his office table too. It now remains for you, a journal istic accident, a mere moneyed manipu lator, to bounce me out of printin of- foe and call me tramp. Eff 1 had been tramp, your foreman would "a bounced me when he locked the composin room this mornin. What you nosin round here for anyway? I know you. knew you 45 years ago, and knew you 20 years ago, when they come near hangin you in Sacramento. They'd ought to "a done it. You're a d--d rascal, sir. You and your old father ruined my life, and when he disowned you and had trouble by you l was glad He paid for lettin you back with his life, and he'd "a been alive today'-
 "Hold on there, MT. Sawtelle! Don't hit an old imbecile with a club like that Put down your stick, and I'll make him shut up. Put it down, say, or I'll break your arm short off. '
 An exciting scene was occurring be- fore The News office one clear May morning, and the language above quot ed had been preceded by the sounds of heavy body falling rapidly down the ironclad stairway leading to the com posing rooms above. This falling was what had attracted Bob Brayton's at- tention, and he turned just in time to see poor old Jimmy James roll out on the sidewalk, where he lay quivering with pain and indignation. It was when the old man staggered to his feet, the blood streaming from several savage cuts in his high bald forehead, that he had delivered his denuncation of the red faced Sawtelle, who had followed him out as if to kick him again. Brayton had arrived just ill time to prevent a renewal of the savage assault, and his grip on Sawtelle's left arm was such that the brute Writhed and twisted and finally fell on his knees. A crowd was gathering and considerable indig- nation was manifesting itself, all of which BraytOn did not notice. He was toe angry, and while he had never be- fore desired to do any one bodily injury, he could now feel all the evil passion in him rise mp, and was strongly tempted to wrest the club f1om Sawtelle's right hand and beat his brains out with it.
 "You cowardly hound! You brutal wretch Curse you! 1 ought to kill you right where you are. You shall suffer for this don't care if you have mon ey; it sham protect you. Get into your den or I'll take the law into my own hands!" And he flung his captive from him with such force that sawtelle's heels flew up in the air and his head smote the sidewalk.
 Of all the crowd that had collected every soul seemed in sympathy with poor old Jimmy James, who, weak and pallid, had sunk back in the arms of Sawtelle's job foreman, who had has, | tened out ill time to catch him. For 40 years the old man had made the rounds, and by his quiet, civil manner had won the respect of all with whom he came in contact. To be sure, he would not work more than three days in any one place, but he never agreed to, and there fore never broke his word. He was, as he always admitted, tourist, but not tramp. He "never jumped easel -i. e., left one without putting some one in his place. If left as sub for more than three days, he always went out and hunted up another to take his place, and p1odded on. Like the Wan dering Jew, he was never at rest, but unlike the supposed wanderer, he never betrayed a confidence, made an untruth. ful statement or stole so much as com posing stick He was the soul of honor, and all foremen throughout the country took on themselves the responsibility of allowing him to sleep in the composing room or office somewhere, for such was his passion for travel he did not work enough to more than provide himself with meager food and raiment. It had remained, as he said, for such man as Caleb Sawtelle to violently eject him from printing office, and it now look ed as if Sawtelle's brutality might re- suit seriously.
 AB the old man had hurled forth his