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