The San Francisco call., 1904-07-03

the fiat nose and green eyes were again
framed between the curtains
Finally after had scrutinized every
thing about me, heavy steps reached
my ears l OWNED the coming of Rab-
bi Fuchs. l cleared my throat, passed
my hand down over the buttons OF my
waistcoat, passed my slim fingers
through my hair to arrange IT In poetic
diSarrangement,a and awaited his arri-
val He appeared at the door ana
measured me from the soles of my torn
shoes to the top of my untrimmed hair
in one glance from his steady, cold
eyes. He was a little taller than his
wife and almost as fat, and his grayish
beard was closely trimmed. His nose
was aquiline. and purple at the end.
which l thought mistakenly, perhaps)
resulted from too Jealous worship or
Bacchus. He wore white tie and
high waistcoat, which-so my fancy
struck me-gaVe him the full appear
ance of the Almighty's coachman. His
forehead was originally not high, but
it was heightened and broadened by
his partial badness.
/ rose and bade him good after
noOn," to which he bowed perfunctorily.
He did not ask me to SIT down, so
told him my story standing. expiatlng
especially on the high position of the
Levandos in former days. He listened
as members of his congregation listen
to his sermons, l thought; but he did
not fall asleep. He stood with his hands
in his trousers pockets, unmoved by my
tale of woe as his congregation by his
lectures, 1 fancied. Several times / no
ticed spasmodic shake of his head, as
if he wished to interrupt me, but he
waited without a word to the end of
my speech. This politeness, flashed
through my mind, he had also learned
from his flock.
oh yes, you Russians are ever dis
satisfied with work and look for some
thing easy" he said coldly "Anarch-
ism, socialism, nihilism, and all kinds
OF isms-that's all you care about.
can't do anything for you. There are
Hebrew charity societies and hospitals
which do all they can for paupers and
immigrants"
But you must realize" I pleaded
almost with tears in my eyes, 'the
injustice Of Mr.. Fetter in trying to ruin
this noble family. that has worked in
a sweatshop in order to make an hon
est living. / do not ask of you anything
but merely to go and see Mr.. Fetter on
behalf of these unfortunate people, and
he will not be so hard upon them"
'I know you Russians" he said i'm
patiently. We'll. this you have for
your trouble" he added with a mean
his pocket and handing it to me.
At this 1 lost my control. I spat on
his outstretched hand and shrieked at
the highest pitch of my voice: "Hypo-
critei high-toned beggari 1 ask no aims
of you, stone-hearted rabbi in Israeli"
He grew as white as the tie he wore
around his neck, and his fat wife, who
had been watching us between the cur
tains, rushed to the front door and
cried. "POIiCei POliCe -
An officer answered the call with
promptnesS that ought to be recorded
in the history of the police department.
dis Russian anarchist wanted to
SHOOT my husband If he wouldn't give
him a t'ousand t'alers,'' Mrs. Fuchs ex-
planned to the officer. Rabbi Fuchs
stood dumfounded and trembling.
Come along-come along" said the
officer, giving me few touches from
his club. 1--WE have good place for
anarchists who throw bombs" He laid
hold of my arm, gripped it tightly, and
led me out of the house.
Some people appeared on the neigh
boring stoops; servant girls stood in
the doors and windows, with their
aprons rolled around their clasped
hands, looking at the officer and his
prisoner A driver jumped off his
wagon, and leaving his horses standing
ing the middle of the street eagerly in
quired What's the matter?" An in
creasing crowd of boys followed us ex-
citedly as we walked toward the cor
ner.
The policeman telephoned for another
officer to take me to the station, and
while we waited for his arrival large
crowd gathered around us, asking one
another: What's the matter?" 1
heard several voices answer: An an
archist." He was going to shoot Doc
tor Fuchs.
i heard all this as II in q dream. I
became so confused that I lost my
memory and did not know what had
happened. A cold drizzle began to fall.
kept my eyes on the ground and wish
ed for some open grave below. One Of
the crowd shouted: Look at his facet
Look at his eyes! He shot Rabbi
Fuchsi'
Did II" I asked myself 1 did not
know then. Perhaps 1 had shot him.
In q comparatively short time an
other officer arrived and took me to the
station. The desk sergeant asked my
name (Which ] had given as Russ)
and inquired regarding my nationality.
They searched my pockets, in which
they found a dollar and a few cents.
Then 1 was locked up.
When / sat down on the bunk in my
dark room realized what had happen
ed to me that afternoon. My expecta-
tions were gone. and now 1 was con-
flied in a murky cell with a lot of Grim
inals. Criminals. did 1 say? They were,
perhaps, just as much criminals as l.
How 1 spent that night leave to the
readers imagination
The next morning about 10 o'clock I
was taken to the police court and there
brought before the magistrate.
The prosecutor read long list of ac-
cusations against me In a voice like
the conductors who call out streets,
and I could only catch, What have
you got to say for yourself?''
Not guilty." 1 stammered.
The officer who had arrested me was
called to the witness-stand and stated
all he knew. or rather all he did not
know.
The rabbi did not appear, so there
was no evidence against me.
However, the Judge dipped his pen
In the inkstand, and looking at me over
his spectacles, said: Thirty days and
costs.'
CHAPTER VII.
AN OLD FRIEND.