Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1899-12-12

cy-former street car conductors, truck
men and the like-who are sent to the
Hooking valley whenever the miners
show signs of Instruction
You're come none too soon,' said the
young superintendent, as he advanced to
meet the leader of the guards.
Lots Corners was awake. The sound
Of a horn echoed among the hills. From
every ramshackle house there came forth
a man; from some dwellings three or
four. Groups formed at various cor
ners, and over the snow there crept lit
tie companies Those who walked in
the center Of the knots of men carried
oil cans and fagots of kindling wood. A
deputy sheriff, who stood at the base of
the hopper. saw the approaching host
and fired his revolver into the air. He
was caught. bound and hurled head first
into, snowdrift. Another deputy. rath-
err than fire uDOn the miners, dropped his
gun and ran as fast as his legs could
carry him. Half q dozen railroad spikes
and three or four chunks Of coal whiZZed
past his head. The crack of a rifle and
the ping Of bullet FASTENED his steps to-
ward the station, where the guards were
slowly forming.
They're going to fire the hopper he
yelled, as he stumbled and fell at the
superintendent feet.
a quick word of command, shoulder
ing Of guns and column of armed men
were going at double quick over the
snow. Ahead of them they saw 9 tall,
gaunt figure The long hair was flying
in the wind. One hand was stuck in the
breast of an old army coat. At the sound
of marching feet the captain FASTENED his
pace, grabbing with his left hand an i'm
aginary sword, as if to keep it from
tripping him as he ran.
''Out of the way there, CAPT. cried the
young superintendent. Are you clean
daft?'
Capt. Jim reached the hopper a hun
dred yards in advance Of the guard. About
the base of the structure men were pill
ing wood and shavings and splashing the
rubbish with OIL Towering above all the
rest was broad-shouldered Hungarian.
who had lighted a match. Capt Jim had
christened him ''Attila the Hun" and the
name stuck to him. The man was a nat
ural leader. He was one of the kind who
make strikes possible.
Drop that, Attila.' yelled the old cap
tain.
Attila motioned Capt. jim away.
You be friend he said. mo be here
Coz
The captain turned about He saw a
hundred leyeled rifles.
SUPERINTENDENT he cried, '1et me
The miners stood with hands upon
ready revolyers.
''See here, you fellows" continued
Capt Jim, I'm an old soldier, and |
know what | am talking about If you
fire that hopper you'll be punished for it,
to do it. Take my advice and quit the
game.
Nobody could ever tell how it happened
There came a shot from somewhere.
Capt. Jim threw up his hands and fell in
= ,<r A l. Il
trampled drift. The old soldier placed
one hand above his heart; with the other
i he pointed toward the torch held by the
leader of the strikers. The Hun threw
the hrebrand to the ground and tram
pied it beneath his feet until the last
spark had left it. The strikers dropped
| their guns in the snow. They surrounded
the form of the old soldier.
Attila, the Hun. lifted up the white
head upon his knee.
/ Not us, F" whispered the Hun, mot u.s."
The young superintendent rushed for
ward.
L call these men to Witness he cried
that no shot was fired by u.s.
Six men carried the old captain to the
Widow Kerrigan's. They were guards
and strikers, three of each
Don't take on so, boys" Can't. Jim
whispered, as they raised him up. ct
was nobody's fault. Any old soldier
knows that you can't always account for
a weapon. Harris, go up tomorrow morn
ing to the school and say goodby for me
to the youngsters. Tell them that none
of their dads was to blame"
Capt Jim clasped Harris right hand,
and with his left gripped the oil-smeared
fingers of Attila
MAKE it up, men, he said
With the. two grasping each others
nands over his breast, Capt. James For
tescue was mustered out of the army Of
earth. In the little graveyard at Lots
Corners is a monument bearing beneath
crossed swords the inscription, Capt.
Jim. AS long as that memorial stands
the Whlrr of the machine shall not be
heard in the Panther mine.-Jobn Walk
er Harrington in New York Herald.