Evening journal., 1903-08-22

In the September number of PearsOn's
Magazine is a story entitled "rhe Dead.
lock-" by Daniel J.. Layton. The follow
ing is another version of the same events,
by Bill Parsons, who borrows the title
without apology, and who attaches to his
narrative the label: "A True Story
lEd.
The old-fashioned State house, typical
of the plain people who had built il, and
as solid and unpretentious as were the
sturdy farmers and small merchants who
entered its portals every two years to
see their servants make the laws, gave
no outward sign of turmoil and commo-
tion, save when its doors occasionally
flew open TO vomit group Of statesmen
I'm front lay an old cannon which had
once been used to fasten the tyranny of
Spain on people struggling for self
government.
Around the square bordering the messy
green pavements We're the rows of law
yer's Oflices-rclics of men who had
played a great part in the history of
their State, and who had gone TO larger
fields because their character and pro
bity had gained them recognition, or had
laid aside their dusty law books having
tried their last case only to gain the ver-
dict of approval from their fellow
citizens for lives well spent and talents
well directed.
Those dingy old offices had been the
scene of many strange experiences. In
one of them on a certain winter day a
few years previous to the date of our
story, sat lawyer, busy in the prcpara-
tion of a case He was tall raw boned
and muscular. A tawney name was
hanging half over his brow occasionally
he would run his nervous hand through
his red side whiskers as he plunged
deeper into the intricacies of the case.
But there were numerous interruptions,
for George Neasy was not only one of
the ablest men at the bar, but one of the
most popular. Hello, Bill how are
things down in Marshy Hope?" his
cherry voice broke out as one of his ad-
mirers entered. And then came famil-
lar chat ere he would again be left TO his
task.
Presently the door opened and man
dressed in the latest fashion, carrying
with him an air that bespoke familiarity
with cities and large affairs, entered he
bowed pleasantly, gave his long nous
tache n twist, and took the chair that
| Neasy indicated
1t was John Il. Allison, the hero of my
story. Now Allison in many respects
was a remarkable person. As a young
man he had been rather successful
drummer, and after acquiring a small
sum by his shrewdness had begun a life
of speculation. He was plunger, but
shrewd withal, and his very audacity had
been an element in advancing his fort
mnes
His method was to secure a charter
from some State whose laws allowed cur
porations to engage in any sort of busi-
ness short of highway robbery, and then
to harass some legitimate corporation
till il either sold out TO him or bought
his interests at figure that meant ruin
He had organized companies, and by plac-
ing as the directors wooden men, had
managed TO have shares of the capital
stock representing millions voted TO him
without consideration.
This was the man who sat in George
Neasy's office that winter day; and
George Neasy knew him.
Neasy had been one of the idols of his
party, and his popularity was by nc
means confined to that organization He
was both able and popular. Every ready
to help a friend or TO enter a contest
whether it promised success or not, he
had become the most prominent candi
date of his county for the United States
Senate. John +. Allison, lately from hi,
sphere of action in the large cities of tho
east, was also candidate, and this haC
to do with his mission 20 the lawyers
office that day.
Allison wasted no words "Alr. Neasy,
he began, Il have many interests thai
require lawyer of ability, and as l re
gard your talents very highly, want t
retain you by the year, and pay you ,
proper retainer"
a peculiar look came into Georg'
Veasy's eyes; he twisted his long leg
under the table, ran his hand through hi
red beard, and said in his shrill voice
MIR. Allison, l am pretty busy with my
practice and don't care to engage in othe
work. Good day"
But Allison was not to be dismisse,
; so lightly. He went on suavely. Now
Mr.. Neasy, l know you are busy, bu
your work doesn't pay a man of you
. talents as il should. You may be max
ing $4,000 a year, while / am willing L
. pay you $4,000 for only a part of you
5 time-make it more if you choose"
''What do you require me TO doy
asked Neasy.
, oh" laughed Allison, "your dutie
will not be onerous. l want you TO loO
after my interests generally, and l ma
call upon you occasionally for some spe
! cifc work"
The long legs under the table untan
+, gled: before John Allison lowered a ma