Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1920-11-07

| tenants to the appeal for peace. The
crowd quieted.
ut don't hurt us to LISTEN The
captains voice doomed over the heads
| OF the crowd. 1T don't hurt us to hear
Just what this young man and his
friends want. 1 say all Americans
ought to know it. l call on you. in
the name of the governor, in the name
or the state itself. to let him have his
say. Let's have free speech"
! That's it! Free speech" yelled Ra-
Der and his friends and all of Bills
friends.
| But Hudston was unable to go ahead
| with the same fire and assurance that
had marked his previous words. He
| said nothing more about flags. but be-
gan to talk of sovietism and what he
called the American misunderstand-
ing Of the soviet principle. inculcated
| and fostered by capitalistic press.
He wound up rather lamely with an
appeal for sympathy with and MEM
| bership in the one big union. and
stepped back to his chair. The presid-
| ing officer rose. with glasses on his
nose and paper in his hand-a reso-
luton, it might be inferred, which
would commit the meeting to radical
. and probably direct" action-but
! Capt. Titus was at the front of the
stage ahead of him and had begun
to talk.
This is a night of free speech" he
! began, "and I've got a few words I
want to get out of my system. We
| workingmen have got to hang to-
| sether. just like my young friend
| from New York said'
a good many men Uttered Bill tt
tus within the recollection of young
persons. had never been regarded as
within the category of laborers
1T amt any cause for laughter"
| Bill defended. Indignantly. Were all
of us workingmen. Some of us"-he
gestured indefinitely over the crowd
nave calluses on our hands. Some Of
| us"-he embraced himself and Hud-
ston in an including motion-"have
calluses on our brains. Hold on" in
mock protest. as the jest won a laugh.
Il didn't mean what you thought l
meant-natchully." And won another.
What ] mean to say" he went on. lis
| that everybody that works. whether
he does it with his head or his hands,
ought to have sight in the pot, in
proportion to what he has on the ia
BILE in front of him. That's according
| to Hoyle, amt it?''
ooh, you table stakes." a young
! driller. near the front cried, and
| there was some applause. Bill recog-
nlzed the boy as wild youth who
had recently returned from France
with medals and prestige and had
shown signs of becoming inoculated
with dangerous doctrines and threw
his reply directly at him:
What would you do to the Teller
after you'd got your chips in the pot,
who said the other players would d.
vide it without giving you n show 90
And went on, before the boy or any
body else could answer:
| IF Mr.. Hudston had said that every
Teller who puts in chips-labor, inven-
| ton, brains, money, whatever is
needed-ought to get a sight. ! would
agree with him. Lots of you fellers
know me. Anybody ever know me
not to give man fair run for his
money!"
NO" came from a good MANY
threats. Raber didn't like the looks
of things and hurled a sudden inter-
ruption:
~ rise to point of order. Mr..
Chairman. Where does this sorta
meetin'?'
wait a minute" Bill had his right
| hand up in the air. palm outward.
/ fingers spread. "I'll match calluses
with you, Raber. this minute. When
did you ever work with your hands ?
And at that" he told the crowd in
booming confidence, 81 haven't got but
one callus on my hand. That's where
a man used to grow callus
handling a Colt" He remarked. and
completed the sentence significantly
| in Raber'S direction.
! And now I've only got to say some
thing l sort of overlooked when I
made my first speech tonight, and
then I'll sit down and give whoever
| else wants to free speech a little his
chance. This boys great-gran'daddy
F, fought at San Jacinto. His gran
daddy was in the war between the
states. His daddy was as brave a
Ranger as l ever rode with. He
worked. too. With his hands. And
with his head. You've heard, maybe.
about how. after he got out of the
Rangers and went into cattle raistn'.
Jack had luck. AS matter of fact.
it wasn't luck a-tall. Luck-reeuIar.
real luck-is spelled with a z. That's
what Jack Hudston had-Pluck, And
when he went out one day to help a
sheriff and a couple of Rangers do
their duty by the state of Texas. and
got killed, he left almost $500, 900
Bill was grinning broadly now
every cent to this young, soft
handed, tea-table workingman. He
still has it. plus a good deal that it
has earned in interest. so my bankin'
friends tell me-" He wheeled on Hud-
ston and snapped a question:
when are you going to divide it 90
Hudston was on his feet facing the