xt7z08635m29 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7z08635m29/data/mets.xml Litsey, Edwin Carlile, 1874-1970. 1911  books b92-236-31281267 English Neale Pub. Co., : New York : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Man from Jericho  / by Edwin Carlile Litsey. text Man from Jericho  / by Edwin Carlile Litsey. 1911 2002 true xt7z08635m29 section xt7z08635m29 











      NEW YORK


     Copyright, 1911, by
The Neale Publishing Company




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  There had been a thunder-shower in the middle of
the afternoon, but it had passed away about five
o'clock, accompanied by sullen rumbles and intermit-
tent flashes of uncertain lightning. Then the sun
burst forth and poured its light over the drenched
Kentucky landscape. It showed millions of diamonds
and pearls strung upon the bending blades of blue-
grass; broad expanses of molten silver where the
ponds lay, and smaller mirrors of the same metal
where puddles had formed from the recent downpour.
It showed boundless hoards of gold where the nas-
turtiunms were banked in a crimson mass, and the mot-
tled bells of the rank trumpet-vines sent forth a silent
summons to the answering sunshine. In the vivid
green of a large oak tree a pair of orioles wove a
wonderful pattern of living flame as they darted
about among the boughs. Two honey-bees crawled
out upon the tiny porch of their little home, and,
being assured by the instinct which God gave them
that the storm was over, arose on buzzing wings to
seek some distant store of sweets.
  His attention being drawn by the sunlight bursting
suddenly through the window of the library where he
sat reading-to be exact, it fell upon the open page
before his eyes-Major Thomas Dudley closed the
book, leaving one long fore-finger between the leaves



to mark the spot where he had been interrupted, and
turned to look outdoors. The scene which was spread
before him brought a peaceful but sad smile to his
face. For two hundred feet or more the broad yard
sloped very gently down to the highway, from which
it was separated by an iron fence of ornamental de-
sign, but now much worn, and sadly bent and twisted
in places. This yard was carpeted with a luxuriant
expanse of bluegrass in which no alien growth was
allowed to find root. There were a number of ma-
jestic trees, of the oak and maple variety, and a few
shrubs, nicely trimmed. A gravel driveway came up
one side from the road, led by the old portico in front,
and from thence disappeared towards the rear in the
direction of the stable. Through the open window
came the odour of honeysuckle, heavy and sweet; the
vine grew near the corner of the house. It was not a
very sightly shrub, and it marred the wonderful cor-
rectness of the lawn no little, but the Major had his
reasons for letting it alone. As a matter of fact, the
Major's wife had planted it many years before, when
their love-dream was at its height. Now she was gone,
but it remained, and it helped to keep fresh and vig-
orous the memories which made Thomas Dudley's
daily life a benediction to all who came within its
  As the perfume from the tiny white and yellow
flowers crept subtly to his nostrils-fine, delicate nos-
trils they were, like those of a well-bred horse-a
hungry, beseeching look stole over the old gentle-
man's face. He leaned forward and placed one hand



upon the window-sill, while his eyes half closed, and
his countenance became transfigured. Then, had any
been watching, they would have seen his lips move, as
though they were shaping words.
  At this point the sound of shuffling feet was heard
coming from the hall running through the center of
the house. Another moinent a throat was cleared in
the doorway, and an apologetic voice spoke.
  "Beg pahd'n, suh; but de Prince am 'peah to be
bettah, sub. I went to de stable ez soon ez de rain
quit to tek a look at 'im, 'n' he hab come to he feed,
suh, sho' !"
  "Peter! Peter! What's this you're telling me
The Prince eating again !"
  With remarkable activity the Major arose to his
feet and faced about, eveing with undisguised elation
the figure in the doorway. It was that of a very old
negro, bowlegged and bent. His face was brown,
wrinkled and kindly in expression, with tiny cork-
screws of gray hair, each totally isolated, dispersed
over it. His head was flat and bald, but for a fringe
of white wool shaped like the tonsure of a monk. He
wore a rusty pair of trousers, so patched that it was
impossible to tell what their original material had
been; a brown hickory shirt tolerably new, and sus-
penders made of strips of bed-ticking. His huge feet
were encased in a pair of old shoes, slit almost into
shreds at the toes for the benefit of the "mis'ry" which
he frequently had there. Such was Peter, faithful
servant to the Dudleys before, during, and since the
Civil War.




  "Eatin', suh; eatin'!" he answered, with vehemence,
replying to his master's question and accompanying
the first and last words with a forward jerk of his
head, by way of emphasis.
  "This is good news you bring me, boy; we must
have a look at him. He's the best bred horse in the
Commonwealth," he added, to himself, as he turned
aside to place his book upon a table, carefully noting
the page as he did so. "It would be a pity in more
ways than one for him to die by accident or foul play."
Then aloud-"Have you seen your mistress re-
  "Not since dinner, sub. I'ze heerd her say afo'time,
do, dat she laks a nap in de rainy ebenin'."
  From somewhere above a voice broke out singing as
Peter spoke. The tune was a popular air of the day,
lilting and free. The tones were those of a young
woman, for they rang with irrepressible vitality, and
there was hope and laughter and faith and happiness
in them. The 'Major had started forward, but now
be stopped and his bead sank as under a benediction.
Likewise did Peter's, for he always reflected his mas-
ter. Thus they stood, types of the bond and the free,
while that tender voice rang on above thein as its
owner moved about the room, for they could plainly
hear her light footsteps going to and fro.
  In his younger years the Mlajor must have been a
man to command any one's notice. Now, as he stood
with his chin sunk in his stock under the spell of pres-
ent enchantment and precious recollections of the
past, one could behold the remnants of a magnificent



physical being. He was exceedingly tall, long of limb
and square-shouldered. His hands were slender and
white; his face naturally grave and thoughtful. He
was clean shaven except for close cropped mustache
and carefully cut imperial, both white. His com-
plexion was ruddy, but whether this was natural or
acquired it is not for us to say. Certain it is, how-
ever, that Peter mixed his mint juleps three times a
day a few minutes before each meal. Certain it is,
also, that never in his long life had Major Dudley
taken more whiskey at one time than was good for
him. He held that it wvas a Kentucky gentleman's
prerogative to drink, in moderation, and he had the
profoundest contempt for the weakling who would
bestialize himself by getting drunk. "Whiskey, suh,"
he would say, "is like every other luxury; to be used,
not abused."
  The singing ceased, and there was the patter of
feet on the stair.
  "She's awake, Peter," said the Major; "get my
hat." Then as he stepped into the hall-"News,
daughter!" he cried, to the vision in pink and white
muslin descending the curved stairway. "Peter re-
ports that the Prince is eating. Will you go with me
to see him"
  A little croon of delight escaped the vision, and the
next instant she had settled like a butterfly upon the
MIajor's broad breast. "I knew he would get well!"
she exclaimed, rising on tiptoe and pulling with both
her hands on the shoulders of her father in a vain
attempt to reach his lips with hers. He, seeing her




purpose, caught her around the waist and lifted her
bodily, though there was a matter of a hundred and
twenty pounds to reckon with, and gave her the caress
with a hearty smack.
  "You'll have to learn to bring a stool along with
you !" he panted; "Iin getting too old to lift such a
buxom lass." But he smiled denial of his speech and
patted her cheek fondly.
  Peter presenting his stove-pipe hat with a low bow,
the Major took it, placed it upon his sparse gray
locks, and drawing his daughter's hand through his
arm they passed out upon the long back porch, which
had an eastern exposure, but was shaded all along its
length by a species of vine which grew luxuriantly
every summer. Peter preceded them, and Peter in
motion was a sight to behold. It is useless to attempt
to describe his method of locomotion. To one unfa-
miliar with the peculiar gait of a "befo' de wah"
negro I can give no adequate picture of the old darkey
as he shambled along over the large flat stones laid
in a row which formed a walk to the gate of the lot
wherein stood the stable.  Behind him came the
stately form of Major Dudley, and by his side Miss
Julia, his only child, whose feet had just passed those
elusive portals which give into the magical realms of
young womanhood.
  "What has been the matter with The Prince,
daddy" queried the young lady, lifting an annoyed
and earnest countenance which Nature had blessed,
or banned, however one may regard unusual beauty.
  A deep furrow was immediately visible on Major



Dudley's forehead, indenting his brow just above his
nose. It only came when he was angry, or intensely
worried. His gray eyes gleamed with subdued re-
sentment, and for the space of a few steps he did not
  "We do not know," he said, then, but he kept his
eyes set straight ahead, instead of looking at his
  "But you have suspicions, daddy, dear," she
pleaded, coming closer to him, and pressing his arm
gently. "Have you a right-have you the wish to
keep these from me Am I not Major Dudley's
daughter, and is not your blood my blood The
Prince has been very sick. Corn and hay don't make
a horse ill. What do you fear, daddy"
  The old man stopped and faced his daughter. She
was quite serious now. Her firm chin, her positive
but pliant mouth, her deep brown eves which showed
courage, and the waving wealth of her chestnut hair,
all made a quick pride rush to the Major's heart, and
brought a satisfied smile to his mouth. His stern eyes
melted into tenderness and love.
  "My child, you shall know all I know; all I suspect,
rather, for nothing is positive. We-Peter and I-
fear an attempt has been made to poison The Prince."
  The word struggled through an indrawn breath of
  "The horse's symptoms indicated this.   Peter
found him in time for an antidote which he admin-
istered to be beneficial, else I fear we would have lost




him. We examined the feed which had been given him
last night, and found some of it mixed with a whitish
powder. In view of this we could come to only one
  The sentence which the girl's lips started to frame
died with the first word. Her lips met firmly, and a
slow dread gathered in her eyes.
  From the highway not far off came the sound of a
horse's hoofs, running at full speed. The Major
was facing the road, and the girl turned to see a horse-
man dash furiously along the pike and disappear
behind a fringe of trees which bordered the road far-
ther on. Julia turned to her father, and saw written
plainly upon his face a confirmation of her fears.
  "Heh" she breathed, awesomely.
  "Or an emissary. He is our onlv enemy, and in
all his stable of thoroughbreds lhe has not one that can
approach The Prince !"
  "Would he dare"
  "Anything, little girl.-Come."
  At the door of The Prince's stall they stopped, and
looked in eagerly. The horse recognized them, and
whinnied feebly. Peter, with curry-comb and brush,
was going over the splendid animal vigorously, though
not a speck showed on his shining coat.
  "Better, suh! Better, young missus !"
  The old negro spoke encouragingly between the
grunts caused by his exertion.
  "He am beginnin' to tek notice. He et mos' he
feed, 'n' he 'peared right glad to see me. I wush I



c'd lay dese brack han's on de low-down skunk whut
tech 'imr! I'd break his naik !"
  The Prince was standing a little stiffly, and his slen-
der, patrician head hung lower than it should, but his
breathing was not labored, and his eves were bright
and beaming with intelligence.
  "He'll come, Peter; he'll come!" said the Major,
warmlv. "He had a close call, but your prompt ac-
tion saved him. You're a good boy, Peter, and I
commend you !"
  Peter grinned his appreciation, and rubbed the
satin limbs with renewed vigour.
  "Yassuh, he'll come all right, 'n' w'en de race hit
come, he'll beat eb'ry one ob 'em! De hoss ain't
folded whut kin tech 'im !"
  "I believe you, boy. Only once in a lifetime is a
hoss born like The Prince."
  Julia slipped into the stall as her father was speak-
ing and going up to the noble brute, put both arms
around his neck and cuddled her cheek upon his
  "Poor old fellow !" she murmured.  "Have they
used you badly because you belonged to us Never
mind. They shan't do it again. Miss Julia loves you,
and all of us love you, and we are going to take care
of you."
  The horse turned arid muzzled the sleeve of her
dress understandingly.
  The girl withdrew her arms and stroked his nose
gently. As she rejoined her father there were tears
in her eyes.




  "Put a new padlock on his door tonight, Peter,"'
cautioned the Major, as he turned to go, "and see that
there are no loose planks which a sneakin' assassin
might prize off."
  "I'll fix 'im so tight dat a gnat can't git in !" was
the emphatic reply. "Dey shan't git nigh 'im ag'in !"
  Julia was quiet as she and her father returned to
the big house. Though her tongue was idle, her
mind was busy. She was trying to elucidate this mys-
tery of the attack on The Prince. Her father had
said in as many words that he believed Devil Marston
was at the bottom of it, but why should Devil Marston
be so bitter against them Half forgotten incidents
came back to her-things which had been glozed over
or dismissed with a laugh. Marston had been at their
home several times, but all at once he stopped coming.
She remembered it now. The last time he came was
at night, and she had seen him only long enough to
speak to him in the hall as she was starting upstairs.
She recalled now some loud words being spoken by
him; the regulated tones of her father in reply, and
that night the Major had paced his room till nearly
morning. When she asked for an explanation the
following day, her father had put her off by saying
it was purely a business matter which it was best she
should not know about. She had let it go at that at
the time, although she wondered that a business call
should have been so stormy. Now she realized that
something was being kept from her; that her father
was shielding her through love and mercy from some-
thing she had a right to know. That had been in her



girlhood, though only two years ago. But since then
her mother had died, and during the following two
years, which had brought her to twenty, she felt that
she had grown to be a woman. She had met success-
fully the responsibility of caring for the house, and
she felt that she could equally meet any other respon-
sibility touching her family.
  As they passed into the long hall again, the Major
laid aside his hat and turned to the open library door
to resume his reading. Julia gently detained him.
  "Daddy, what's the trouble between Mr. Marston
and us"
  The old man's face grew very grave.
  "Who spoke of trouble, lassie"
  "Would a friend attempt so vile a thing as was
attempted last night Ile has grounds for his con-
duct, or thinks he has. I want to know it all. I'm
sure you never harmed any of his, or him. Then why
does the man hate us  He must be very wicked, for
no honorable enemy would employ such underhand
methods of attack. Now tell me all about it, won't
you "
  Major Dudley tilted her chin with his bent fore-
finger, and gazed long and earnestly into the fearless
eyes upheld to meet his owvn.
  "There are some things little girls shouldn't know,"
he said, finally.
  "Little girls, indeed !" she exclaimed, almost petu-
lantly. "Won't you ever realize that I'm a woman,
though a young one, and can't you trust your only
daughter with a family secret, daddy dear"




  It was quite evident that her feelings were on the
verge of being wounded, for her lips were a little
unsteady, and her eyes were reproachful.
  The reply came in a soft, reminiscent voice.
  " 'Twas yesterday you were in pinafores, chasing
butterflies by day and fire-flies by night, out yonder
on the lawn. Are you really twenty"
  "Yes, sir; and I demand it as my right to share
your burdens. They will be lighter so, for us both."
  The Major sighed, and lifted his hand to his fore-
  "You are right, and I promise that you shall know.
But not now-not now."
  "In a day or two, then"
  "Yes, in a day or two. Run along now and gather
some flowers."
  He bent to receive her kiss, and stood watching her
as she moved with a free, swift step out onto the por-
tico, into the yard, and over to a side fence where a
mass of nasturtiums were rioting in a wealth of varie-
gated colors.
  "That is where her life should be," he murmured
to himself; "spent among blooming flowers, listening
to the birds, caressed by sun and wind. Now she de-
mands of me the storv of Devil Marston's hate, and
I have to tell her. Why do innocent children have to
grow up and taste of bitterness Why must she
know of man's inhumanity, injustice and greed 0
my little Julia, I would keep you from every thorn
if I could! This old breast would gladly take all that
were meant for you, and not mind the sting! But


         THE MAN      FROINI JERICHO           21

that is not God's way, and His way is best. Poor
child! I wish it could be otherwise."
  He passed slowly into the library, and sat down
with his book.
  After the frugal evening meal, which Aunt Frances,
Peter's spouse, served with due punctiliousness, the
Major sought his room, pleading fatigue. Really he
sat alone, thinking, for a long time before going to
bed. It was past ten o'clock when he finally arose,
and going to a south window, looked out in the direc-
tion of the stable. The night was starlit only, so he
did not see a stealthly figure climb the rail fence en-
closing the barn lot, and move swiftly across the
intervening space to The Prince's door.



  As a town, Macon did not differ materially from its
sister towns of like size throughout the State. It is
true it was located on the border of the bluegrass,
and this alone gave it a distinction which the penny-
royal arid mountain districts did not possess. The
corporate limits of the place held about three thou-
sand souls-black and white-and nobody ever got
in a hurry. A quiet air of indolent aristocracy per-
vaded the town. Shops were opened late, and if any
one wished to buy, they were served courteously and
languidly, but there was no "drumming for trade."
For all of its lazy atmosphere, it might have been
located farther south.  But its people were good
people, on the whole, although they permitted saloons,
and went wild over horse racing. And, best of all,
they reverenced their women. A lady on the streets
of Macon had respectful right of way. It may have
been that they were duly proud of these three things,
for they knew full well that nowhere in the world were
nobler or more beautiful women, faster horses, or
better whiskey.
  The nabobs of central Kentucky were a distinct
and exclusive class in the years preceding the great
Civil strife which freed the colored race. They had
friends about them constantly, near and from a dis-
tance. They gave large banquets and more often



drank immoderately; they dressed in expensive and
fashionable clothes, and had body servants galore.
Each gentleman had a personal valet, to shave him
every morning, attend to his wardrobe and be always
within call. Another servant groomed his favorite
horse, brought it around and held the stirrup while
his master mounted, and was always on the spot when
his master returned to have the bridle reins thrown
to his waiting hands.
  Then came the war scourge, and the old order
passed. Homes were broken up; houses were pillaged
and burned, bought and sold. Of the several stately
homes surrounding Macon, but one or two remained
in the family after the war.
  The Dudleys were an old family, proud as could
be, and holding manual labor a disgrace. This faulty
doctrine was due to heredity and training, and de-
tracted in no way from the sterling manhood and
womanhood which ran with the name. They had been
wealthy people generations gone, living freely and
without stint. Then came the days when one of them
became a black sheep and killed a man while in liquor.
It took most of the vast estate to save him from the
gallows. When the war ended MIajor Thomas Dudley
found that he had little left save a wife and child, the
homestead, a half dozen horses of purest racing
strain, and an eighty acre farm which would grow
with equal abundance hemp, tobacco, corn or wheat.
He would not work; he could not work. Had a Dud-
ley's hand ever touched the handle of a plow Never!
Welcome genteel starvation rather than ignoble toil!




In the meantime the family had to live in befitting
manner. One by one the servants, enticed by their
new-found freedom, drifted away. At length only
Peter and Aunt Frances were left, and the Major
knew that his body servant would never go, for be-
tween these two was that subtle, adamantine bond
which rarely existed, but which, once formed, was
  Julia grew to girlhood, and the question of her edu-
cation came up. There had never been a Dudley,
male or female, who had riot received a complete col-
lege course. The Major avowed that Julia should
go to boarding school, and he signed away the re-
maining eighty acres with a hand which did not trem-
ble in order that the traditions of his family should
remain inviolate.  Julia, ignorant of the sacrifice
which had been made for her, went away three suc-
cessive years, coining back the last time to find her
mother dying. After Mrs. Dudley had been laid to
rest in the little cemetery east of town, the daughter
stepped into her place in the management of the
household. Up to this time she had supposed her
father had plenty, but the fact that they were almost
poverty stricken became quickly revealed to her now.
She met the situation with a brave and smiling face,
and employed every art she knew to cut down ex-
penses. About this time a number of shares of stock
in the thriving Bank of Macon were placed on the
market. Then Major Dudley severed the last tie
which bound him to the old life. He was getting too
old to give his horses proper attention. He sold them,



every one, retaining only a colt not quite a year old,
and bought the bank stock. He had figured out that
the dividends which this would bring would barely
keep them in food and clothing, and pay the taxes on
the home. The colt which he had held back from the
sale he had given to Julia at its birth, and this was
The Prince, the last member of the stables which in
years gone by had been the wonder of all Kentucky.
  Peter, born to the care of fine horses, shadowed The
Prince day and night. Though well up in the seven-
ties, he had broken the young horse to the saddle, and
that without a fall. Then, shrewd old rascal that he
was, one balmy night he had ridden the colt out to
the race track, one mile from the town limits, and
tested his speed. He had no watch wherewith to time
the exploit, but he needed none, for had he not seen
races ever since he was two feet tall! The result had
been marvelous. The Prince almost ran from under
him, and he must needs cling on with heels and hands
when the horse was in motion. When he slipped from
his back in an ecstasy of joy, Peter knew that he
stood beside the greatest race-horse that had ever
touched Kentucky soil! The old darkey was wild with
delight, and could hardly wait till morning to tell the
Major of his discovery. Major Dudley's face beamed
when the news was given him.
  "Keep it still, Peter," he counselled, "and watch
him. There'll be racing here in July next year."
  Winter passed and the Spring came again, and Peter
hied himself and The Prince to the race track as soon
as the earth became solid. He went always at night,



and always alone, but a rumour began to spread
through Macon and the county in general that Major
Dudley's colt was a marvel, and could make a mile in
two minutes flat. Certainly the story lost nothing by
its constant re-telling, and while few believed it true,
yet everyone confided it to his neighbor as a matter
of gossip.
  Then came the night of the cowardly attempt upon
The Prince's life.
  The evening express from the north was due at
Macon a quarter till eleven. The night of the day
upon which Major Dudley had promised to his daugh-
ter a revelation of certain things which had been kept
hidden from her, this train was running fifteen min-
utes late. The engineer was trying to make the time
up, and in consequence the coaches were swaying and
jerking over the rather imperfect roadbed. Crouched
in the corner of a seat next the window sat a young
man. It would have been impossible to form any idea
of his physical appearance from the uncouth position
which he had assumed. It was quite evident from this
that he was traveling entirely alone. He had slipped
down in his seat until his head was below the top of
its back. His long legs were flexed so that his knees
rested against the back of the seat in front of him.
His shoulders, unusually broad and square, drooped
somewhat, as from weariness; his chin was sunk upon
his shirt front, and his cap was pulled well down over
his eyes, so that only a portion of his face could be
seen. The line of shadow slanted across his face



sharply just at the cheek bone, revealing below it a
smoothly shaven surface, and a chin as square and
resolute as the shoulders. In common with the ma-
jority of his fellow-passengers, he was dozing. The
conductor came unsteadily up the aisle, fumbled at his
cap band for the piece of paper sticking in it, then,
observing that the man was asleep, he shook him gent-
ly by the shoulder. The sleeper aroused readily, and
in response to "Your's next station," nodded his head,
and turned, as one will do the blackest night, to look
out the window. This not with the purpose of seeing
anything, but from some inexplicable force within.
  But the young man (lid see something-a dull glow
was discernible in the sky, apparently a great distance
away. To a sleep-befuddled brain it looked very much
like the rose tints of morning, and John Glenning
mechanically pulled out his watch, to smile at his stu-
pidity the next moment, for it was not yet eleven. He
glanced about the car and brought himself to an erect
sitting posture with a quick exercise of the great fund
of reserve strength which he undoubtedly possessed.
His shoulders went back squarely against the seat,
and his feet sought the floor. Then, as he pushed the
cap off his eyes, his f:ce became visible. It was a
strong face, with jaw- and cheek-bones showing prom-
inently. The forehead was good, almost square, and
over one eve was a crescent-shaped scar, not livid, but
standing out plainly against the white skin. His hair
was black and straight, and his face wore a half mel-
ancholy expression, which seemed habitual.
  After a casual and disinterested survey of the com-




partment, he turned to the window again, placed his
elbow upon the sill, and looked out into the night.
The glow in the distance was still there. He judged
it to be a fire, although no flames were yet visible.
Just a dull red vapor seemed suspended, like an ini-
mense ruby, against the black draped breast of the
sky, and on all sides of it the stars shone like rare
gems. As this poetic thought struck Glenning, he
smiled, as though pleased at the conception, and just
then a long blast of the whistle told him that they were
approaching his station. A moment later the door
was flung open, admitting a rush of pure, sweet night
air into the stuffy coach, and the flagman passed
through, touching alternate seats with either hand to
steady himself, and shouting "Macon! Mlacon !"
  Women began to rouse soundly sleeping children,
men to stretch their arms and remark to their neigh-
bors, and John also began to get himself together.
He was near the door, and as the train came to a halt
with jangling bell and escaping steam, he grasped his
suit case and safely made his exit before the aisle be-
came crowded.
  The place was entirely new to him, for his home
had been in the north end of the State. The engine
had stopped at the edge of a bisecting street, and just
in front of it an arc light was suspended, which threw
his surroundings into view uncertainly. Back of him
was the bulk of a water tank; to the front, and at one
side, the station. People were hurrying to board the
train, and packages and trunks were being hastily
dumped from the open door of the express car onto a



truck drawn alongside. A number of forms moved
vaguely about-that pitiful, shiftless class which no
small town can eliminate, who had merely come to "see
the train come in." All this Glenning saw in the
twinkling of an eye, and then he started briskly up
the crushed rock space which served for a platform.
Opposite the tender of the engine were two or three
men, one of them a negro, standing abreast, toeing an
invisible line and bawling lustily the names of differ-
ent hotels. Glerning stopped for a moment in front
of a row of hands eagerly outstretched, and just then
the words "Union House!" came to his ears through
the din of jumbled voices. He remembered suddenly
that a friend had told him this was the best hotel in
the place, so he resigned his suit case to the care of the
one who had velled "Union House!" and fell in with
the straggling line of people streaming up town.
  Above the babel of the hotel criers, and the slow,
muffled puff s of the inert engine, a new sound now
throbbed through the air-the clanging, tumultuous
notes of a sharp-toned bell, rung with fury. The
people nearest John pricked up their ears, and he
heard  the sinister query   "Where's the fire"
"Where's the fire" repeated on all sides. No one
knew, and those who had been from home, and had
returned on the train, hastened their steps, some
breaking into a run, for none knew whose household
goods were in danger. The panic spirit seized Glen-
ning, too, for henceforth his life was to be in this
place, and with these people, and he found himself
running with the others. Covering a short square,




they turned into the main street of Macon, where
confusion reigned. Men were dashing about in the
middle of the street, shouting to each other, and an
ancient fire engine had just been dragged into view,
with the hook-and-ladder wagon trailing in its wake.
Glenning ran towards the engine, which had halted
in the center of the highway, and at which some strip-
lings were tugging in a vain effort to move it.
  "Where's the horses Where's the fire company"
demanded the newcomer, hurriedly, stopping in per-
  "Men is the hosses that pull this old water-bug!"
volunteered one of the youths, ceasing his efforts to
move the antiquated vehicle; " 'n' the fire comp'ny's
anybody that's got spunk 'nough to fight fire !"
  As these words were spoken a number of men
reached the sc