Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1907-04-12

has swamped his own fortune, and.
what Is worse. a million to a million
and half of his trust funds as well,
and the old judge-well, you and can
understand his position. Yet 1 do not
know that you just can, either, for
you do not quite understand our Vir-
ginia life and the kind Of revered posi-
ton a man like Judge Sands occupies.
You would have to know that to un-
derstand fully his present purgatory
and the terrible position Of his daugh-
ter, for 1t seems that since he began
to get into deep water he has been
relying upon her for courage and ideas.
From our talk gather she has Won
derful store of-up- to- date business no.
tions, and I am convinced from what
she lays out that the judges affairs
are hopeless, and, Jim, when that old
man goes down 1t will be smash that
will shake our state in more ways than
one.
up to now the girl has stood up to
the blow like man and has been able
to steady the judge until he presents
an exterior that holds down suspicion
as to his real financial condition, al
though she says Reinhart and his Bal
timore lawyer, from the ruthless way
they put on the screws to shake out
his holdings in the Air Line, must
have a line on 1t that the judge Is
overheard. The old gentleman can
keep things going for six months
longer without jeopardizing any Of the
remaining trust funds, Of which he has
some two millions, and while his wife,
who is an invalid, knows the judge Is
In some trouble, she does not suspect
his real position. His daughter says
that when the blow came, that day OF
the panic, when Reinhart jammed the
stock out Of sight and scuttled her
fathers bankers and partners in the
road, the Wilson's of Baltimore, she
had a frightful struggle to keep her
father from going insane. She told
me that for three days and nights she
kept him locked in their rooms at their
hotel in Baltimore, to prevent him
from hunting Reinhart and his lawyer
Rettybone and killing them both. but
that at last she got him calmed down
and together they have been planning.
"Jim, 1t was tough to sit there and
listen to the schemes to recoup that
this old gentleman and this girl. for
she is only 21, have tried to hatch up.
The tears actually rolled down my
cheeks as I listened; I couldn't help
it; you couldn't either, Jim. But at
last out of all the plans considered.
they found only one that had tint OF
hope in II, and the serious mention OF
even that one, Jim, in any but pres
ent circumstances, would make you
think we were dealing with lunatics.
But the girl has succeeded in making
me think it worth trying. Yes, Jim,
she has, and I have told her so, and
hope to God that that hard-headed
horse sense of yours will not make you
sit down on it."
Bob Brownley had got to his feet;
he was slipping the shackles OF that
fiery, romantic, southern passion that
years in college and Wall street had
taught him to keep prisoner. His eyes
were flashing sparks. His nostr1is
vibrated like deep bucks in the au-
tumn woods. He faced me with his
hands clinched.
"Jim Randolph" he went on, as
listened to that girls story Of the ter
rible cruelty and devilish treachery
practiced by the human hyenas you
and I associate with, human hyenas
who, when in search Of dirty dollars
the only thing they know anything
about-put to shame the real beasts
Of the wilds-when / listened. I tell
you that felt 1t would not give me
twinge Of conscience to put a ball
through that slick scoundrel Reinhart.
Yes, and that hired cur Of his, too,
who prostitutes a good family name
and position, and an inherited ability
the Almighty intended for more hon.
est uses than the trapping OF victims
on whose purses his gutter-born mas
ter has set lecherous eyes. And, Jim,
as I listened, troop Of old friends
invaded my memory-friends whom
have not seen since before I went to
Harvard, friends with whom I spent
many a happy hour in my old Virginia
home, friends born Of my imagination
stalwart, rugged crusaders, who car
ried the sword and the cross and the
banner inscribed For Honor and for
God Old friends who would troop
into my boyhood and trumpet, BOD,
don't forget, when you're a man, that
the goal is honor, and the code: DO
unto your neighbors as you would have
your neighbors do unto you. Don't
forget that millions is the crest OF the
groundlings.' And Jim, thought my
friends looked at me with reproachful
eyes, as they said. You are well on the
road, Bob Brownley, and in time your
heart and soul will bear the hallmark
Of the snaky on the two upright
bars, and you will be but frenzied
"ellow in the Dirty Dollar army Jim,
Tim Randolph, as I listened to that