The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1915-12-30


Mason.
it left off on the night that Mason
stumbled upon the notorious Sid
Dodge's place, running wide open.
you see," he finished, IF wasn't
sure that whole outfit is as crooked as
hell, / wouldn't come up here squealin'
like a kid. But I'm dead sure those
dice were loaded, the wheel was lop-
sided and the cards were marked;
and l think that this rotten lot of
underhand pirates"-Mason wondered
at his qualifying adjective+-"should be
sent up"
Mason felt it was strange trick Of
fate that sent that young loose
mouthed rounder to the district at
torneys office at just the time it was
possible for him to act. He had been
admonished By his chief to forget it"
when he reported that fragrant VIOLA
tion of the law, and it seemed to his
highly imaginative mind that this mo-
ment had beeh opportunely selected by
an unseen Judge to weigh the sincerity
of his prindlHass against the material
success" of his career. He knew that
his principles were right-that his
ideals were n,ble, aspiring, splendid,
true-knew that they would be true
no matter hov their injunctions were
sighted, CLOSED over, spurne ed-knew
that truth was unalterable, everlast-
ing, infinite. Truth wouldn't be any
the less truth or his ideals any the
less fine because he failed to stand by
them. What good would it be-where
was the advantage of his broad con-
ception of what was right and just if
he failed to acknowledge it in his
actions?
That night the busy traffic of Sid
Dodge's gilded cafe was interrupted
in the midst Of it's feverish play by a
squad of police, headed by Ellis Mason,
and the entire outfit loaded into a
waiting patrol wagon. Clarice Adair,
the dancing girl and guiding spirit"
of the place, recognized Mason as
the man who two nights before, had
refused her urgent persuasion to play.
While the police were busy taking
charge of the place, he went up to
her.
"I'm sorry, but you'll have to be
detained. You remember, | said I'd
be back soon, when / felt luck to be
with me-" he laughed; "You see, I've
made clean sweep, as promised
She looked up at him, all the fierce
vindictiveness of her passionate soul
finding expression in the concentrated
stare of her hate-glowing eyes.
Eyes, you have made a clean sweep
of it this time," she said slowly, in
tensely. Make the most of it. The
banker always wins-in the end"
He turned from her, smilingly, but
annoyed at her covert threat, and pro-
ceeded ia the direction of the men
under him.
v.
Charles Gibson was pillar of So
ciety." Ponderous and portly, he was
endowed by nature with a digniied,
heavy face, and pompous air that his
snow-white hair and ivory-headed
cane did great deal toward making
impressive. He was fifty-five years
old and seemed sixty-five. His deeply
scanned face and massive jaw were his
greatest assets, and would have
vouched for him had the rest of his
appearance needed endorsement.
His voice, never harsh or strident,
had peculiar booming quality that
made his slightest utterance seem
fraught with significance, its very
tone commanding the respectful audi
ence that many another voice of great
er volume and more sincerity tried for
in vain.
His Bible class reverenced that
voice and unconsciously acknowledged
its influence by an unusual proficiency