Ladysmith news-budget. [volume] (Ladysmith, Rusk County, Wis.) 1907-1927, 1908-06-25
The Anarchist
BY Hiram Shcoch.

The sullen, hard-set face Of the an
archist turned toward the ground at
his feet, and a look of wonderment
heightened the CLEAN of the midnight
eyes. Then he commanded gruffly,
with an inpatient swing Of his
gnarled hand
go on away, girl"
But the limpil blue eyes of the fair
haired little one gazed at him radiant
ly, the red lips in sweet benevolence,
and the voice was tender and quantity
assertive:
but l want you to take these flow
ers. Why, | gathered them right here
in the park; and they are beautiful.
Just see!"
And dimpled hands held the fra
grant bunch upward. Older and
grosser mortals might not have OBJ
served the quick flash of pleasure and
half amuseemnt in the somber eyes
of the anarchist; but the child saw,
as he took the posies in his clumsy
clutch and then passed on with a
curt word of thanks.
The little one walked away, radiant;
the anarchist stalked on along the
graveled path A moment later he
crushed the flowers to his face, as
though in a passion of gratitude
Then with a wild oath he cast them
at his feet and trudged on
Half an hour later he had, by
means of a spuriously worded card
gained entrance to the steel kings Of
flee and stood before that cold-faced
mortal
What can / do for you, my friend?''
The gloomy eyes of the anarchist
cleaned wickedly.
II am not your friend" he growled
The eyes of the two men met-men
whose thoughts and aspirations were
apart as the poles. In second the
man of millions OWNED the in
port of the visit He reached for an
electric button, but his fingers did not
touch 1t. He was in the fierce grip
of the anarchist, and long-bladed
knife would be in his heart.
you're done for now, damn you!
You've got to die, slave driver, and
die nOw!"
you'll be caught and hung for
this, you cur" cried the magnate, I'M
finchingly, as he grappled with the
anarchist, clutching the appraised arm
and for an instant stopping the de-
scent of the keen blade.
Hang! That's nothing to me, so
wind you up at last"
But the steel king had been once
in his time laborer, and there were
yet strong sinews in his limbs and
sturdinesS in his heart. He struggled
terrifcally, calling for aid in the
meanwhile; but all the doors were
closed and no one heard. Again and
again that fearful blade lunged down
ward Yet always the strong arm OF
the millionaire was able to avert the
thrust But he was fast weakening.
Another moment, if no help came, the
knife would be in his heart.
And now, indeed, it was coming
Slowly again it was pushing down
ward-past his cheek, now over his
heart.
'Why, here you are now, and you
and papa are playing. See, here are
the pretty flowers you frowned away,
naughty man, and l picked them up
again. They're all just for you
And once more the fragrant bunch
was pushed toward that sullen face;
once more the limpid eyes beamed
upon him; once more the red lips
smiled gleefully.
The descending knife stopped, poised
an inch from the steel kings heart.
Then the weapon ratified to the floor;
one big arm sank down; the other
relinquished it's crushing grip on the
intended victim. The anarchist bent
quickly forward, drew the angel face
to him and passionately pressed the
smiling lips to his own.
Then he Strengthened I'D, glared
once more malevolently at the mill
ionaire and strobe to the door. AS it
opened he pushed the little bunch of
drooping flowers beneath the lapel of
his coat, passing out, uttered but one