The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1902-10-26
Love Of James Youn8er for Alix Mueller

Mans Justice is grim enough, but
pound of flesh demanding justice of life
itself it seems but puny thing. "A
smiling and careless Clotho reels off
from her distaff the threads of human
life, but stern Lachesis examines the
threads with relentless eye and for
every knot with which reckless youth
has marred- it's smoothness she weaves
in a bit of rue. = Nor does the blind
Atropos cut those threads until the rue
exactly balances the weight Of the tan
gled knots.
Last Thursday there was consigned
s to it's last resting place-a plot Of land
in Missouri village-the body of Jim
Younger, bandit. Moralists of this and
other generations will point to his life
as an attention compelling example Of
the bitter wages of transgression. He
sinned," they will say, land in proper
ton to his sin he suffered"
Small boys will remember the bandit
as one, of the famous robbers of the
West and doubtless their lively imag-
nations, unbiased by facts, will con-
lure up a figure of heroic size and a
dashing personality.
: But women-born sentimentalists-
who have none of the sternness of the
moralist and much of the imagination
of the small boy will remember only
Jim Younger's pathetic love story,
love story alas, that was only part
Of the rue entwined in the threads of
his later life.
1t Was Generation Ago.
Twenty-six years ago the prison
doors of Saltwater closed in on three
young men, all brothers. They were
members of a gang of robbers that had
terrorized the whole West. They had
taken property and life with equal i'm
punity. "They must spend lifetime
in prison to eXpiate their crimes" said
the court. And law abiding Western
ers, while they bowed to the will of the
court, thought that court too lenient.
Was it too lenient? Lachesis, hoard
ing her pile of rue, must have laughed
when she heard that verdict of YER
dict Only she knew certainly
of those moments in the night
when the life convicts awoke
with start to the realiza-
ton of encompassing prison walls that
were to shut them in for all the years
or their lie with QOpei6SSneSS ana re-
morse and utter misery. Only she knew
of the agony which pressed on the
hearts of two of the brothers as they
listened to the hacking cough that
told of the suffering and presaged the
death of the third-a death that was
not terrible to them in itself but only
In it's desolateness. For it was not their
brother who was dying. 1t was just a
number.
Fate Did Not Forget.
But as year after year moved slowly
by after the death of Bob Ford, it
the gray threads she still held in hel
hand. Cole Younger, the elder Of the
two remaining brothers, was working
In the prison hospital and apparently
content. Jim, the youngest of the
three who had gone into prison was in
the prison library among books that he
had learned to love and to find a
solace. The angry murmur of a re-
Yengeful people which at first had
penetrated the prison walls grew faint
{ er and fainter and finally died away
altogether. Jim and Cole Younger had
begun to feel at peace with themselves
and the world. Then Lachesis slyly
took up bit of rue and twined it with
q the gray thread of their lives. At first
1t did not look like rue. Indeed, it was
as rosy as hope, for it contained the
promise of freedom. Cole Younger
snatched at it with avidity His twenty