THE WRONG BAG. How It Changed the Prospects of Mr. Cranley. (W. R. Rose In Cleveland Plain Dealer.) 5 It was the end o( the battle. Ezra Cranley was going home defeated. He had come to the city with high hopes, IHe was going home worsted In measure discouraged. He was not the Ban to give up completely. There waa too much of the Puritan stock in him for that. But he was defeated In his first battle and admitted it without question. He had tried hard to succeed. The great trouble was that he hadn't sut' oeeded fast enough. He had found employment, but at wages that were scarcely sufficient to maintain him. He had striven hard to please to make himself useful but his efforts were not swarded. He finally told himself that it was the lack of opportunity that kept him down. Without opportunity his sever est efforts availed nothing. Opportun ity might confront him at any moment It might never come. It was a good thing that Anna Lin coln had written and advised him to come home. Anna was his sweet heart, and it was Anna who had been his Incentive. He wanted to win fortune for Anna's sake. He had gone to the big city cheered by her love. Anna's letters cheered him when lie felt the bluest. But finally she had written hlni In another strain. Ezra," she wrote, "I want you to eome home and take a rest or at least enjoy a change. I can see that you are not In a frame of mind to do yourself credit You need enlivening. You need mental relaxation. Besides, the tenants on your farm require atten tion. They are taking advantage of your absence. And I want to see you, Ezra. Com home." He was glad to receive this call. He wanted to see Anna. He felt that ha need the tonic of her cheering Words. The next morning he drew the lit tle money that was duo him from his mployer, his week being up, and bought a present for Anna in one of the big department stores, and after eating his modest luncheon from a long counter, went to his boarding flace and paid his landlady and pack ad his bag with his simple belongings and started to walk to the ferry. It was a long walk, but he enjoyed It. Perhaps this enjoyment was Increased fey the fact that he was nearlng home and Anna. ' The sky was cloudy, and as he Boarded the ferryboat a drizzling rain was falling. The train shed was dark and gloomy and the rain fell heavily on the roof as Ezra reached the wait ing train. He boarded the smoking sar and put his bag on an empty seat. As he entered the door he was Jostled W y. m ,!, , 4k. .1.1 "J " w nun hcid Jll iuq ituilI III, Se paid no attention to them, mere ' noting that one was dark and that the other was tall and slender. After putting down his bag he sudden ly remembered that he hadn't made are he was on the right train. It was a road that frequently changed Its tohedules. M Be stepped back to the platform and net the two men, Just entering , the aisle. They looked at him sharply, he femembered. "Dow this, train stop at Millville!" tie called to a uniformed official. "No." was the answer. "This is the express. The way train follows in ' twelve minutes." . A gong clanged sharply. x 1 "All aboard' a voice shouted. Ezra turned and ran back into the far. It was quite dark, but he dis- corned the form of the smaller man, who had Jostled him In the aisle, lean ing forward and intently staring through the nearest window as if ex pecting to see some one. The other Van was not In slg'ht The train was moving as Ezra light ly caught up his bag and turned and hurried back. It had gained consid erable headway when he dropped to (he station floor. Nearly four hours later he left the way train at Millville and bag in hand started up the main street As he looked around at the familiar scenes he sighed. This wasn't the way he had hoped to come back. He was going to stay at the old cot tage where. he had boarded when he read law In the village. He would yeas the home of Anna on the way.' .. The sky had cleared, the moon was ahlning, the evening was warm and peasant. . As he neared Anna's home he saw her standing on the porch. She ran down to greet him. '1 knew your figure," she cried and pat out both her hands. ' ' She drew him into the little sitting room and took his hat i "I dont think I could have 1 come home if the. thought of this welcome hadn't draw. a me," he said.. "I'm a fail are, and you know it." . "I know nothing of the sort," she aried. "You expectnd to climb 1 too 'last1 that's the trouble And because you found that the rounds in the ladder were far apart you, became dis couraged. That isn't fair." . "t have been standing on tie eame round for a year or more," .said Ezra, grimly. "I began to think I had grown fast to it But there," he cried, "let ana forget all this. How are you, dear, ad haw Is old Millville?" ' "Both of. us auite tie same" .she BxEtagly answered, "and both set tintc-laer." ' He flushed. atjWa aa wauld have 1 said something, but suddenly checked himself. The thought that she was growing old waiting for him hurt Ezra, bub he knew she would think it unkind if he told her so. "I've brought you a little reminder of the big town," he said. He stooped over the travelling bag, and then sud denly drew back. "Why, this isn't my bag!" he cried. The girl arose and came to him. "That's funny," she said with a light laugh. "Are you sure?" He was staring at the bag confused ly. "The color is exactly the same.' he said, "but the handle and the lock are different. I've taken somebody bag by mistake." "Or Boniebody took your bag1 which Is much more likely. The big city Is full of wicked men, you know." "Whoever took my bag," said Ezra, still staring at the strange handle, "did not get much." "You forfeit my little present," laughed the girl. Ezra drew a key from his vest pocket. It failed to lit the lock. "What a delightful mystery," said the girl. "Who knows what fate may have concealed In this mysterious hid ing place?" "I'll soon find out," said Kara, a little grimly. He didn't see any hum orous suggestion In the exchange. He drew out his knife and opened it. "Wbit," said the girl. "Use the uni versal handy tool." And she gave hi m a hair plu. He straightened the wire and pried at the lock, while the girl knelt be side him. For several minutes he worked without success. "Fate keeps her Becret stubbornly guarded," he presently remarked. 'Yse," said the girl. "I dont think I ever was quite so near the verge of a mystery. I feel an assistant bur glar." Before he could reply the lock sud denly yielded. Ezra loosened the clasps and pushed the bolt aside. Then he opened the bag. A newspaper was spread over the contents. He lifted this and suddenly stood up. The girl gave one scared look and then crossed the room swiftly and turned the key in the door. The bag was filled with bank bills in packages! Ezra drew a quick breath. "Rather a heavy dose of the un expected," he said, meekly. The girl, her face drawn and pale, came near him and put her band on his. 'Better cover it, Ezra," she said. "It scares me." "Not yet," he answeerd. "I'm go ing to count it, and at the same time look for a clue to the owner." He stared at the money as if fascinated. He breathed hard. "There's a lot of solid enjoyment in that," he muttered. "Ezra," said the girl, sharply. He started suddenly and began tak ing out the packages. Each waa wrapped with a slip of letter paper, the "500" being written with a com mon lead pencil. Ezra counted the packages aloud as he placed them on the floor. "Fifty-eight," he murmured. He nibbed his forehead confusedly. "I've GOLDEN WORDS. "The trouble with the average young-man who starts out to make his mark in the world of business is that his sole aim is to begin at the top. He is not willing to begin with the rudiments, the drudgery, depending upon industry, loyalty, economy and absolute rectitude ot purpose and practice. Ho does not seem to realize that hard work, faithfulness and thrift will always win recognition that will be last ing and of the best." , almost forgotten how to divide," he added. "It's $29,000 Isn't it." "Yes," the girl replied. "And you And no clue?" "No." They both stared at the treasure. "What do you think, Ezra?" He divined what Bhe meant "I think it's stolen money," he re plied. "You are sure it's good money?" He picked up a package and leafed the bills over, scrutinizing them care fully. "It's good.' "Why do you think it is stolen, Ezra?" Then he told her about the men on the car platform, the dark man and the tail man. The dark man was so Intently watching someone through the car window that he did not hear me when I approached and picked up the wrong bag. And the car was dark and I did not notice the mistake. The bags were so much alike that it is possible the dark! man himself did not discover the exchange until hours afterwards." "Was there anything in your bag that would identify you?" the . girl asked. . .. . ' He reflected a moment "Absolutely nothing." ' "I think that is fortunate,' - said the girl. "If they were robbers and found out who had taken their treas ure they might be quite desperate enough to do anything." He shook his head. "The express makes its first stop at Columbia," he said. "If they found out their loss by that time they mrght re turn to the oitr they. waM hare ao for ttopjgg "here. " "It makes ma feel uneasy," said the girl. "Put the money back." He replaced the packages hurriedly. suddenly he stopped and iield onemp. A card had been slipped through the band that wrapped it Ezra pulled out the hit of paste board and read the few penciled words on it aloud: "Be at Francis Garrison's office at 2 o'clock, Tuesday." That was all. Ezra turned the card over. It was blank on the other side. "Francis Garrison is one of the lead ing lawyers of the city," said Ezra, "I have often beard his name." "What is his reputation?" "I fancy it must be very high." The girl put her hand on Ezra's arm "You will see him tomorrow inorn Ing, Ezra," "Yes," he said. "Francis Garrison may know nothing of the loss of this money, but he will advise me what to do." The girl put her arm around his neck and kissed bis cheek. "Spoken like my Ezra," she inur mured, and kissed him again. The young man stooped uud closed the bag. "There," he said, "I'm glud the stuff Is hidden from sight" "And now,' said the girl quickly, "I'll take charge of this. I think it will, be safer with me. Besides, I'm going to put a leather dressing on It Unit will restore the color and dis guise It so that wicked eyes will nev er tecognlze it. Good night and pleas, dreams, Ezra dear end come as ear ly as you like In the morning." Kzra Cranley gave his name to the trim young man at the door of Francis Garrison's office. "Mr. Garrison has a client with him,'" said the trim young man. Ezra seated himself on the long settee near the door, with the precious bag be tween his feet. The trim young man regarded him with some Interest. "If you will write your business on a card,' he presently said, "I will take It to Mr. Garrison." Ezra drew a card from his pocket and wrote: "Mr. Ezra Cranley desires to ask the advice of Mr. Francis Gar rison concerning the recent loss of a considerable sum of money." The trim young man took the card and entered the inner room. Almost Immediately he returned. "Mr. Garrison will see you In a few minutes," he said. Presently he opened the door and Ezra picked- up his bag and enteerd the inner room. He heard the click of a telephone receiver falling into its hook, and the gray haired man at the broad table near the window straightened up. There was another man in the room, a tall man whose back was turned and who was staring down into the street through the most distant window. The gray haired man had Ezra's card in his hand. "Sit down, Mr. Cranley," he said. I am Mr. Garrison." Ezra bowed as he took the nearest chair. The lawyer seemed waiting for him to speak. Mr. Garrison," he said, "I have come to you in the hope that you may know something about a large amount of money that was lost, or possibly stolen, yesterday. I think. A slight clue led me to believe that the owner might be one of your clients. If you do not know him, then I want your advice." The gray haired man looked at him steadily. And why do you hope that I know the owner?" "So that the money may be returned to him." The gray haired man continued to study Ezra's face. "And you have come liere to open negotiations?" he slowly said. Ezra flushed. "No," he answered. "Where is this money?" the lawyer slowly asked.'' "Here," and Ezra pushed forward the bag. The man at the window suddenly turned around. He was a broad shoul dered man with a kindly face and keen blue eyes. The lawyer looked around at the tall man. ' "Mr. John Dermot," he Bald, "let me make you acquainted with Mr. Ezra Cranley." , - Ezra and the stranger shook hands. "Mr. Dermot had the misfortune to lose a sum of money yesterday,'' the lawyer went on. "He was bringing it to my office on a surface car when an adroit thief aided by a confederate took the bag in which the money was packed. It is possible that the money you desire to restore to Its owner is Mr. Dermot's money. Can you identify your property, Mr. Dermot?" The tall man nodded. "I think so," he replied. "The money was in bills, which I had pack aged in $500 bunches. I tore the slips I used from a sheet of letter paper, and placed a copy of the Los Angeles Herald over the stuff." Ezra's face was impassive. "What was the amount of money. In the bag?" he asked. "Twenty-nine thousand dollars.'' Kkra arose and picked up the bag and laid It on the lawyer's table. "Mr. Garrison," he said, "may I aak you to act as a witness while Mr. Der mot examines hie property?" The tall man stared from Ezra to the lawyer. "Well, what do you think of thatT" he muttered. . Ezra opened the bag. "This is your bag, Mr. Dermot, al though you may not recognize it. A friend thought it well to restore the original color for fear the bag might be recognized by the persons we sup posed stole It." "Then there Is someone else who has knowledge of this this loss?" said the lawyer. "Only one other person," Ezra an swered. He flushed a little. "The per son is the lady I expect to marry," he said. "And she advised you to hunt up the owner of the money?" said the tall man. "Why, yes," Ezra answered. "Fine," muttered the tall man. He turned abruptly and shook the packages from the bag and hastily counted them. "The money Is all here, Mr. Cran ley," said the lawyer. Before Ezra could speak the door opened and a slender man with smooth shaven face suddenly entered "Oh, Ridley," said the lawyer, "glad to see you. I thought something In teresting was about to happen when I called you over. Detective Ridley, Mr. Dermot, Mr. Cranley. That money has been found, Ridley." The slender man, threw a 6wlft glance at the packages of bills on the lawyer's table. Then he looked at Ezra. "Found by Mr. Cranley?' "Yes,' replied the lawyer. "Perhaps," said the detective, "Mr. Cranley wouldn't object to letting us hear his story if agreeable all around." It was the eminent lawyer who took Ezra in hand and drew the story from him. Ezra skillfully guided, told of his hardships In the great city, of his defeat and return, of the momentous journey, of the short, dark man and his companion. "One moment," Interrupted the de tective. "I fancy I am the engrossing object that your dark man was watch lng so intently. I happened to be in the station on other business, however. Go on." So Ezra finished and the detective came forward and shook him by the hand. "Glad to know you, Mr. Cranley,1 he said. He looked across at the lawyer. 'The parties who sneaked the bag are the ones I suspected, Mr. Gar rison. They must be getting a lot of enjoyment out of Mr. Cranley s col lars and cuffs. Good day, gentlemen,' he laughed, noiselessly, as he passed out. The tall man had made a little pile of money packages on the table.' "I think that ten of these belong to you, Mr. Cranley,' he said . Ezra's face grew red and he drew DOCK. "No, no," he murmured. "As your legal adviser," said the lawyer, gravely, "I strongly recom mend that you take this gift from Mr, Dermot The amount will not cripple him he is a man of wealth and I am sure he wolud not rest easy if he could not testify ni a practical way to hts high regard for you." 'That's right,' broke In the tall man. "And another thing to get this money back Is like finding It in the street I never expected to see a blamed dollar of It again. And, say, when will that wedding take place?" Ezra suddenly smiled. 'There'll be no reason for postpon ing it now,' he said. 'Fine!' cried the 4all man. "I'd like to meet the lady. ,. See here, Cran ley, how would you like to come out to Southern California as my secretary? I'm looking for such a man. Good pay, plenty to do, and a glorious climate. What do you say?" Ezra's head swam. Opportunity waa crowding him bard. - "I say yes, and thank you," he re plied. "Make it your wedding tour!" cried the tall man, "and we'll all shake hands on the compact" . And the three men shook hands. A Cool One, A tall man, with a very long face and sleepy eyes, stood on the steps of a PIcadllly club. "That is the Duke of Devonshire," said the American gride. "The Dukes of Devonshire are noted for their sleepiness. They are not unintelligent, but they would always rather sleep than eat or play bridge, or hear mu sic, or smoke, or drink champagne. "To give you an idea of this young man's imperturbability," said the guide 'do you know that when he made his maiden speech in the house of com mons in the old duke's day, he actual ly stopped to yawn three or four times in the course of his remarks? "Such an exhibition of coolness had never been Been in the bcuse before. The premier, marveling over it, said: ' 'A man who can yawn before a crowded house in the miM ot his first speech is capable of rising to tne highest position in the land.! " Washr Ington Star. Carelessness. Gushing Musician D'you know, It makes me feel sad when I play. Hostess (seeing too late ber unin tentional double meaning) That is because you feel in such sympathy with your audience! London Opin ion. , Because of accidents in various na vies the British admiralty plana to cool all warships' magazines with re frigerating apparatus. Fame- By Elllt O be famous is not is not necessarily sT 1 famous is to "make a fait" The next question to he decided V I by the authorities, self-appointed or otherwise, la whether I I the fame is deserved. That Invariably starts an argument r I No fame was ever unanimous. Fame, therefore, Just as soon as we analysis ot different viewpoints, we are embarked en the atormy sea of disputation without compass or quadrant, without destinatloa or starting-point, doomed forever, like the Wandering Jew, to float on and oa to nowhere. ' Buffeted thus aimlessly is the shade of Poe. In the ordinary acceptation of the term, he was and is famous, and the effort of his detractors to maka out otherwise only serves to increase his fame. Whether he Is Justly or fle eervedly famous or not, is quite another question, a question which is both Irrelevant and indeterminate. It is Irrelevant because fame is objective rather than subjective. If it is to be qualified, it takes its quality from tha contemplating public and not from the man under consideration, bringing u to social introspection and there we stick until some arbitrator plenipoten tiary leads us out. Hence the question is also indeterminate, since arbitra tors plenipotentiary disappeared with the "divine right" bubble. The matter of Poe's going into the Hall of Fame depends and should depend upon those having the Hall of Fame In charge, whether they be An thony Comstocks, Battery IKaus, John L. Sulllvans, or other gentlemen who may have happened to become famous in their chosen sphere. Others should keep hands off. Whatever the outcome, the Hall of Fame merely reflects the opinion of those who have it in charge. No matter how much public discussion there may be, no matter how much outsiders may engage In controversies In which they have none but a bellicose interest, the governors will still use their own Judgment, and we will be supposed to Infer that their selections were deservedly famous. There is no danger of any one's deliberately starting a Hall of Unjust Fame. The only other way would be to decide It by referendum. If we should vote him in and his fame was still undeserved, then, of course, It would prove that we were a bad lot From Llpplncott's Magazine. 3 j. i uiiuug jur ustiuii e By Cora S. Day. K AAA A 4 E let little things annoy him. He gave way to outbursts of L anger, when a moment or two of firm self-control would T have carried him safelv nast the crisis. He rather Drlded m iititAaiAiAiAi f TTTTTTT T himself upon his "quick temper," so unruly, so easily roused, and so bard soothed. Then came the climax, when one day be flew Into a passion, and almost before he real ized it, he bad committed a crime which by a narrow mar gin escaped being murder. His neighbor was a quiet, pleasant young fellow whom everybody liked and respected. He was never even suspected of owning the naturally quick temper which bo kept as sternly under control. He made it a point to be master, and he succeeded. When the first young man went to prison for his attempt upon the life of another, the second accepted a position of trust, of honor, of large responsibility, where his self-control and calm poise of spirit amid vexations was invaluable to himself and bis em ployers. Neither of the young men would have believed, years before, that they were in training then for the positions each came to occupy. Yet so it was . In truth; for had not things gone before which fitted the one for honor, the other for crime and disgrace, the results would not have been what they were. Juvenal says: "No man becomes a villain all at once." Equally true Is it that no man becomes a saint all at once. Training goes before both; and that training Is a matter of Individual choice. Your temper, your taste, your faults and your virtues, all are your own, to train as no one can train them 'for you. For what are you training then? Outrages of the Telephone By Minna Thomas Antrim HE Drunken Sailor's fate having been satisfactorily settled,, what shall be done with the Telephone Fiend? This dis tressing problem is agitating more than one long-suffering soul. The Fiend is petticoated, rarely trousered, who holds you ud until vou are readv to hurl anathemas uoon the T HI very Inventor. Where is the specialist who will conquer I this disease of the wire disease that is working such JJ wholesale havoc, rifling husbandly purselets, stealing Time bodily, breaking the needed rest of invalids without a qualm, and robbing the "party" at the other end of all surety of peace? For all else seem we to have found a quietus, but for the "caller up" at any old time or place, no remedy seems forthcoming. That the telephone has blessed many a man, saved many lives, and helped pile up fortunes, Is true; but has it not cursed some women, ruined more lives, and hastened domestic misfortune? It has. Has it not become the favorite pastime of the woman with nothing to do? It has. Does it not accelerate gossip? Aid the flirt and the wayward, constantly? It does. Self indulgent women waste their husbands' money by ordering food over the too handy telephone, rather than bother to dress for the street, thereby losing both their wholesome morning exercise and their chance thriftily to secure the best there Is for the price at market or at stores from which the family larder is supplied. The time wasted by women In foolth 'phoning can never be offset by time gained by forehanded profit a man if he gain the whole world if his "world" is lost through lolly? Telephoning from a habit finally becomes a vice, and a menace to the courtesies It has destroyed a fine art of social correspondence. It has crowned Haste with Courtesy's laurel. ' Ice CE Is used as a handy T I the interior into large cities, where the iiihaittacts can in dulge In them freely. In the winter, when it is not needed to cool the air, tre Hudson River is filled with chipped ioe, whioh disap pears as soon- as the weather gets warm enough to make It an nKla.-f J A A. A A A A A A WUJV h Ice fills many uses, but its highest mission is in the early morning, when it floats up to a man whd has been out all night At other times It may do some itself a humble instrument in the hands Ice comes in bergs and lumps. In Jeave a berg on your door-step, charging for It by weight But when you get it it is a lump. This 13 due to Its shrinking nature. Packed In refrig erators, it gradually pines away, until on Sunday afternoon, when It is most needed, it has silently disappeared, leaving naught but germs behind. A re refrigerator, by the way, is an Invention ot science to melt ice in the quickest manner. ' Ice is used in drug-stores and Wall around cornstarch and ugarand vanilla, it makes ice cream. No "Uncle Tom's Cabin" is complete without It Is need to sit down on by people learning to skate, or to fail through by young boys who have warsjleredl away From Lippincotts. J. O. Jonas necessarily to be great, and to be great to be farfuoue. In the vernacular, to ha can be taken only at its face value. attempt to subject It to the critical M3 men in business, for what shall It Llpplncott's Magazine By Thomas L. Masson medium for conveying microbes from good, but thie is where it truly shows of Providence. the early morning the ice man will Street When ptaced conveniently It forms on lakes and mill-ponds, and from home. It also oomes in rinks. I
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers