New-York tribune., 1903-07-08
CHAPTER ".

ney's end would prove no annoyance to any one
again Her mother sat fearless in one Of the
coaches while the old lady who denied the
utility OF physicians tried fesbly 10 comfort
her The two Princetonians turned out n he
much like other boys. ready with sympathy.
little touched by awe. Tragedy. sweeping into
the lives Of all of them brushed away the little
afectations one constructs with so much care.
and left each man or woman as he was-weak
or strong silly or sensible callous or loving
Some joked. some swore, some wept, some
worked. They had the papers at little juno
ton whittier they had crawled by noon, and
there learned first the full force Of the acct
dent and the names of their fellow passengers
who had so abruptly been hurried upon longer
journey than they meant to take. There were
fourteen dead in the two mournful cars ahead;
there were forty-two hurt. But of those in the
Pullman only the little frecked girl had been
killed. Bradford saw in one glimpse the girl
whom he had noticed and wondered over the
afternoon before So she had not left the train.
he speculated. He still wondered who she was
but the shock Of the accident dulled the edge
Of his wonder. He saw Murdoch go up and
speak 10 her, and she smiled as she answered
He reflected with half sreer and half smile
that Murdoch had probably spoken TO every
man. woman and child on the train. There
were few. indeed whom he had not pressed to
boro for whiskey. He wore a black alpaca
coat OF the sort bookkeepers affect tie of all
the colors Of the rainbow garnished his throat.
He had led the raid upon the general store of
Hoopsboro, and these were among the spois of
war The big pickle maker put in the morning
in exhortation: mo compromise for injury
his theme He offered TO advance money to
fight any and all cases and damned the rail
road interminably.
Rapid events had left Bradford little time to
think over his letter. Yet all the time it was
in the back Of his head, and on the slow journey
home he found a spot where he could be alone
TO consider il. So he fancied; but he reckoned
without the pickle maker who routed him out,
and insisted once more upon shaking hands,
IF the papers don't give you send off thatH
keep the town awake" he said. my name isn't
John Murdoch. Have a drink Bradford de-
clined but was overborne. and drank, shudder-
ing wishing that Murdoch might be drowned in
his own pickle vats-a sentiment which, how
ever. he took some pains TO conceal When the
papers came he discovered that Murdoch had
been right. There was the send Of indeed
Like the rest, he hurried through the long ac
counts to find his own name He passed over
the solemn roll of the dead, with all its scrUpu-
losity and its inaccuraCy, and its sad and fatal
prophecies-"cannot recover; will die" In the
forid and spectacular account which followed
he read of himself under the headline Singing
Amid the Sorrow: and editorially, too, he found
that he was commented upon. He and Muir
doch were singled out for praise. Nowhere,
ran the curious journaIese, "as in scenes Of
suffering and sorrow can plainly discern
that tie Of brotherhood which unites all men,
from the emigrant in the smoker TO the aristo-
cra+ in +he Pullman. Where all were
heroes. It would be invidous TO praise
individuals Yet the names Of some stand out,
bright spots ever amid the brightness.
Francis H Bradford e" There was much
more He read with avidity; he smiled his su-
perior smile al the frescoed English. but he
was immensely pleased. It was while he was
perusing the account of his own deeds that he
felt hand on his shoulder and, looking up. saw
again the bearllng face Of Murdoch.
We'll, they've done well by US, haven't
they? I must have scared that young chap last
night when I threatened him with sudden death
if he didn't give us three cheers, eh? What do
you think of it?'
They've made me tenor, for some reason
laughed Bradford What pity can't
have his name copyrighted. that the news
papers couldn't print it without his consent
You like people to let you alone, do you?
Il won't say that But I don't care TO have
reporters finger marks all over my concerns
Does anybody"
why not when it's so much advertisement:
Now. they play me up in here; suppose you
noticed it. What Of it? After all, it's true; /
was there. and I pulled a few out. Why
shouldn't I have the credit Of it? Somebody
must toot my horn. # people are TO know that
I'm around and when 7 can get it footed for me
don't see Why I should object"
Neither do I If you like the tunes they PLAY.
Personally I'd rather make my own music. 1
think
7 saw last night" said Murdoch reminis-
Gently. that you hated TO give that chap your
name I liked that II wouldn't sell many
pickles that policy. but I kind Of liked il just
the same Oh don't deny I. Tou amt the first
man I've met who thinks my bIlboards are too
numerous" He chuckIed. A man said 70 me a
few months ago. What do you stick your face
all over the country for7 It's not yourself
you're trying 70 sell it's pickles Then Why
don't you advertise pickles? told him what
tell you-it's not only pickles but my pickles.
want to get rid Of If you know grocer you'll
buy at his store. eh, in preference TO another
mans that may be just as good. but that you
don't know? Well. that's the tack I'm on Peo-
pie get to know who I am, then they buy my
goods They're good pickles. but they re no bet
ter than any others. I suppose They're Mur-
doch's that's all, and folks know who Murdoch
is You say you're going TO be a lawyer How
60 you expect 10 get started in the law if you
don't advertise 80
III do il in the old fashion" replied Bradford
IN hire an Office. buy a sign. and put mucilage
on the seat Of my chair"
Do cried Murdoch. oontemptuously. DO.
and sit and watch the spiders on YOUR desk 1
tel you my boy. things aren't done that way in
this generation. You might as well expect 70
win race BY wishing You go on that course
and you'll srarve IN a year