The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1900-05-13

Company Z came on last night.
/ They saw that the road was torn up
and took the log-pike over Pelton's
/ hill, and are coming down through the
woods. They have found it OUT
'They certainly have, "eDenby cried,
as he watched the scattering crowd.
I would give a hundred if that man
/ hadn't shot"
He rushed down into the street.
'sWho was hurt?" he asked.
He forgot himself, though the men
] before the mills shouted after him.
/ These were his people after all; he
understood them-he had worked with
! then
As he ran he dropped his pistol into
! his pocket, and soon he was in the
| throng. But though the faces were sui
! len, no fist was raised. He was risking
his life, if he had known it. But <e
was not thinking Of this at that mo-
ment.
who was it?"
"Radford-damn you, DENLY! They
/ are taking him TO his mothers
Damn me, or not, but get Dr.
/ Fox, quick"
/ He pushed his way into a bare frame
! house. A number of men stood about,
, looking at him in sullen surprise. On
the bed RadfOrd's big, brawny form
was stretched out, while woman lean
ed over him.
They've killed him-my lad-kilIed
! him-my lad-and there he is-there he
is-to take him to prison"
One of the standers-by lifted his fist
with Get out OF here" and a number
| Of adjectives thrown in But it was
Radford himself who protested.
Don't touch Mr.. DENLY: I've worked
beside him. Don't touch him. he didn' [
do it. 1t was that farmer O. the sher-
| ifs"
Il couldn't help finding out how bad
" you were hurt. ] am dead sorry. I
came here without thinking"
And it is said to this day that this
impulsive act Of Denby's did more
than anything else to patch up the
troubles between the company and it's
men. He might have been torn to pieces
and he risked it to see how the wound
ed man was. Radford's wound was but
a slight one-principally shOck-and he
was shortly around.
On returning to the street, DENLY
found that the militia were already
policing the crowd. At his office Della
field. the manager, met him. For the
first time in mis- life the manager was
demonstTatiYe.
My dear boy-my dear boy-T can
never say enough of your pluck"
1T wouldn't have amounted to much
If you hadn't turned up, and now-I
| can't hold up-I must get some sleep"
And presently he was tumbIed on his
bed, his clothes all on.
Hours after he aWoke. The window
was open. 1t was. wonderfully still.
You could hear the splashing Of the
little stream not far away. His eyes,
half open, saw the pines on the hill
side.
The, - .7,-.e ~ 4t,oe.o ..-.,.-4 1,
but a long stretch of lawn, with be-
yong an old red brick house. It was his
own; il was home. And the finest gen.
tIeman in all the world was walking
there-the dear old general, while pres
entity his mother drove UP in her phae-
ton and called to him. But he said he
hadn't time, because he was. teaching
Annie how not to .'muf' a ball. Annie
was a chubby faced, small girl. who
laughed at this, and said she knew as
much about it as he.
And then there We're other scenes and
other faces, his brothers and his sister.
and always somewhere in the back
ground that chubby girl whose face,
! after a time, to be- sure, grew less
chubby, and when he was back from
school she was almost grown up and
didn't seem to think Tluch of him or
he Of her.
Then, again, it was school, and soon
coNege; friends who had gone from
him; events that were like dreams. just
as all life is a dream to the dead.
He now was watching a boat race:
now dancing at a. promenade" with
Annie. now again in Far WestchesteF.
and then he was in London and all
abOat-your young man of the world;
soon he was very much your man OF
many clubs and Of the town.
be had TWO sides TO his nature, one
strong for the inherited sense of the
gentleman, the other for pleasure, and
subtly pleasure sapped the strength. II
was DENLY here and DENLY there-a
youth to be talked about. Annie now
was quiet young woman, of whom he
saw little. But life waSFthe best fun.
presently he was doing things he
once would not have thought of doing:
and then more of them. and more of
them, until they spelt disgrace and Hen
began to cut him, for he was full of
force and passion for whatever he did,
and his was not the nature to brook
criticism. Men told their women friends
that they would not be seen with him.
Annie's brothers, once his warmest
friends, told her that people fed from
MIN as rats from a sinking ship he
said TO himself. But he had new
friends, not such nice ones, to be sure,
and soon, when certain successes he
had had on the street" turned TO fail
ures, these, too, began the cutting
Fellows l. wouldn't have in
my house." DENLY said.
Then there came the dreadful day
when the dear old general turned as
adamant, and told him he had dis
graced the family.
But his mother, in the graveyard,
could not know-or did she know?
In town things went from bad to
worse. If sullen pride often held him
up, there were other days when shame
tore Denby's heart. His friends were
gone; his family was gone; he was
snubbed at his clubs: he had become
one Of those who disappear" You see
them about for some years, and then
they vanish, and you wonder where"
OF day at this period of his career
ne passed Annie somewhere near Wash
ingtOn square. She bowed as graciously
as ever He replied as stiff1y as ne could
But she looked back and called out:
Why, Jim; why don't you ever call
II haven't time; and you lznow-you
know, you ought not to want to see me-"
Il viii prove that. You simply have
TO persistent to give up. It's work you
want-work-work As for you, jim, l
have known you too long-not TO want TO
see you at any time-under any circum-
stances"
She spoke rapidly and her eyes and
words were earnest, and he was not Of ler
class, utterly out of tia man Unbiased.
He broke away as soon as he could. He
did not want to have people see her with
him. there was too much scandal true
and untrue. about MIN: and thank
heaven, he had something of the gentle
man left
But her words rang in his ears, IT'S
work you want-work.'
He had dawdled and fooled and thrown
ffa-r H1Ir cnn h1d F-fr m
with no forced smile. And there was a
way-the way of work. But what work
could he do?
Yet the thought cheered him. and he