, which was then due, was expected to
come in sight around the bends of the
road.
This lonely figure was clad in a long
duster; over its head was what seemed to
be a flour sack with holes cut in it for
the eyes and mouth. In his hands he
held a double-barreled shotgun. Across
the road, near where this man was hiding,
an old log had been rolled to impede the
way; there was also stretched across a
rope, which was fastened to a tree on either
side, and at about the height of a horse's
breast.
In a very short 'time the rattle of the
coach was heard and in a moment after
the lamps on the sides of the stage blazed
forth their reflected light, now in full
view, then again lost to sight in the turns
of the road. As the coach came bowling
along, the muffled figure grasped the short
gun tightly in his hands, sprang lightly
over the brush directly into the road, and
waited for the approaching stage-coach.
Anderson, unconscious of impending
danger, drove swiftly along down the hill.
As he came near to the up-grade he drew
his horses down to a walk and slowly
ascended the hill. When the team reached
the summit. Bill got his whip ready to
start them at a lively pace down the
grade. Just then the leaders shied sud-
288
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
denly to the outer edge of the road, and
at the same moment the muffled figure
standing in the middle of the road direct-
ly in front of the horses, pointed his gun
at Anderson's head, and in a calm, steady
voice, said:
"I want the express box, pard ! Be
quick about it, too. Throw it out and
drive on."
"I can't throw you the box," answered
the driver. "It's secured to the bottom
of the coach."
"Well, get down, pard, and unhitch
your team. I'll get the box, without much
difficulty."
Under cover of the gun, Anderson
obeyed the orders, and in a few moments
the team was unhitched and driven to the
foot of the hill, there to await develop-
ments. By the time Bill had gone a safe
distance and quieted his horses, the rob-
ber had begun work. Anderson heard the
sound of some heavy instrument being
struck against the iron express box. This
was repeated several times. Then came
a sound as of the breaking or wrenching
of wood and iron, and finally all was
quiet.
Anderson waited fully half an hour
before he ventured back to the coach.
When he did, he found the express box
torn open, the treasure gone, and the
masked man nowhere in sight.
The driver hitched his team to the
stage, mounted the box and drove as fast
as his horses could run to the next station
where he lost no time in reporting the
robbery.
The telegraph was soon ticking away,
and in a few hours a dozen or more men
were scouring the mountains in search of
the highwayman. Detective Stone was
telegraphed for. He came at once and
commenced a vigorous search for the rob-
ber. Taking up the pursuit of the man
at the scene of the robbery, he traced him
for a short distance along the main road,
thence up the mountain side to the sum-
mit, along the summit for half a mile,
then in an easterly direction down the
mountain to a deep canyon, where, look-
ing over the edge of a rocky precipice, he
saw the object of his search stretched out
on the sand beside the swift water of the
mountain river. Approaching the man
by a circuitous route, Stone covered him
with a pistol and ordered him to hold up
his hands.
"I give up, Mr. Officer. I am helpless
and have a badly broken leg. In my efforts
to escape, I got bewildered and lost my
way in the dark. I stumbled over the
bluff you see there, and fell headlong over
the rocks to where you now find me. Would
to God the fall had killed me. The evi-
dence of my crime is here beside me."
With the aid of an improvised stretcher
the captive was carried by Detective Stone
and his assistants to the county jail, where
he lay for several months before his broken
leg became knitted, and well enough for
him to limp about upon.
At the time of his arrest, the robber
gave his name as Frank Thomas, and un-
der that name the Grand Jury found a
true bill against him for the crime of high-
way robbery. When brought into court to
plead, he was asked if he was indicted un-
der his true name, also if he were guilty
or not guilty. He answered:
"As to my true name, no one shall ever
know it, for I have disgraced it, and those
who bear it. As to my guilt, why should
I attempt to deny it? Was not the evi-
dence of my crime found with me? I
plead guilty and can only say that I am
sorry for what I have done."
The judge then proceeded to pronounce
the judgment of the Court upon him. He
reminded Thomas of the enormity of his
offense, and spoke of the frequency of
stage robberies; he said he was sorry for
the prisoner, but that in this particular
case he deemed it his duty to make an
example as a warning to others, and added,
"The judgment of the Court is that you
be incarcerated in the State Prison for
the term of your natural life."
The prisoner trembled visibly when the
sentence was pronounced; otherwise he
showed no emotion. He was quickly led
away by the Sheriff, and a few days there-
after, Frank Thomas became an inmate
of the State Prison, known as convict No.
20406 a life-timer.
Some sixteen years afterward a party
of ladies and gentlemen made a visit of
curiosity and inspection to one of our
State Penitentiaries. Among the party
was a sad-faced, blue-eyed woman, with
flaxen hair, through which could be seen
streaks of gray. Accompanying her was
THE VISION.
289
a blue-eyed girl of about twenty, evidently
the lady's daughter,, as she very much
resembled the elder woman.
After the workshops had been visited,
the guide turned to the party and said:
"We have a large gang of convicts in the
stone quarry. You will find some inter-
esting specimens of humanity among
them."
Taking a winding path down the hill,
they were soon in the vincinity of the
working convicts. The guide pointed out
a number of the most notorious celebri-
ties, and finally pointed to a prisoner at
work superintending the moving of a large
stone. He said : "That man is a mystery
to all here. He is a patient, hard-working
prisoner, known to the prison authorities
as convict No. 20406, and among his fel-
low convicts as 'Old Mystery.' He was
committed to this prison about sixteen
years ago, having been convicted of high-
way robbery. During all the time he has
been here, he has never been visited by a
friend or received a letter or communica-
tion of any kind from the outside world.
No one seems to know or care anything
about the old man, and nothing about his
previous history can be wormed out of him
by his fellow convicts. He was committed
under the name of Frank Thomas. But
that is evidently an alias to hide his true
name and conceal his identity. He is a
sadly broken man. When he first came
hero he was of strong physique, with hair
and beard of a dark, sandy color, and al-
though he is yet in the prime of life, he
now has the appearance of a decrepit old
man."
As the party moved past the old convict,
he looked up. His eyes rested for a mo-
ment on the little blue eyed woman, and
then moved toward the daughter, whom he
eagerly scrutinized. His face flushed, his
breath quickened a little, a half-sob es-
caped him/ Then he turned his back to-
ward them and went patiently on with
his work.
There was an inexplicable something in
the face of the old convict that seemed like
a dream to the little blue-eyed woman
where had she seen that face before?
"Poor fellow," she remarked to the
guide. "It seems very sad for so old a
man to be chained for life to this hard
work."
"The poor soul," said the daughter.
"Yes, it is sad indeed," said the guide.
"He is buried for life under Section 213
of the Penal Code of California."
THE VISION
BY HERBERT ARTHUR STOUT
I had a vision in the city streets
Of hills that rose behind the dawn,
Dim-towered where the gold of sunrise fleets
In magic streamers pale and wan.
I saw sweet fields in vision lie,
And flowers and hills and stream
Had caught a dappled radiance from the sky,
And stood like figures in a dream.
My soul then saw the wonder of the gold.
And stood enraptured in the hush
To see the beauty of the dawn unfold
I only heard the singing of a thrush !
THE SPOTTED DOG'S BRIDE
BY WILDER ANTHONY
SPOTTED DOG sat stolidly in.
front of his tepee, and gazed
gloomily out across the brown,
i sun-baked prairie. All around
him the village was wild with excitement,
for the hunters had just returned laden
with game, and there was to be a great
feast that night.
But there was no joy in all this for
Spotted Dog. His heart was very heavy.
For many moons he had loved Yellow
Lily, the fair young daughter of Chief
Fire Bear, but from the very first his
love had- been hopeless. He found favor
in the eyes of Yellow Lily, but she dared
not tell him so. Her father had said that
she should not marry, and his word was
law. Therefore, day after day, she went
listlessly about her duties while her lover
sat eating his heart out in sullen silence.
At length Spotted Dog arose, and with
the air of a man who has made up his
mind, walked to where his pony stood,
ready saddled. Mounting it, he rode off
into the gathering darkness. He was go-
ing to ask the advice of Sam Harris, the
agent in charge of the reservation, who
had, among the Indians, a reputation for
wisdom that surpassed even that of old
Storm Cloud, the aged medicine man.
Harris was alone in his little store
when the young brave entered.
"How !" he greeted, pleasantly.
"How !" grunted Spotted Dog in reply,
and then coming directly to the point:
"Me love the Yellow Lily. Fire Bear no
let marry; what do?"
The agent scratched his head. He
knew Indian ways, and he realized that
Spotted Dog had made him, in this odd
way, the recipient of an unusual confi-
dence. During his ten years in charge of
the reservation he had straightened out
many a tangle, matrimonial and other-
wise not always without profit to him-
self. For several weeks he had guessed
how matters were going, and he had been
expecting a visit from Spotted Dog. Like
most Indians, Chief Fire Bear was an in-
veterate gambler; if he could be induced
He unlocked his little safe and took out
a greasy pack of playing cards.
"You savvy poker?" he asked, turning
to the Indian.
"Mebbyso," answered Spotted Dog, non-
committally.
"Listen," continued Harris, "Fire Bear
is a great gambler and he's plumb loco
about poker. 'Spose you could get him
into a game and win all his ponies and
blankets; then you could make your own
terms. Savvy ?"
"Me no win," said Spotted Dog, sadly.
He had played poker with Fire Bear be-
fore.
"Oh, yes, you can. That is, with these
cards and my help you can. Look here !"
He explained sundry little marks and
spots on the paste-boards to the Indian.
Spotted Dog grinned. "Huh!" he
grunted, "me .savvy. Heap a good !"
For over an hour the agent explained
and illustrated the manipulation of the
marked cards. At the end of that time
the young Indian carefully concealed the
pack beneath his blanket and stalked out
into the night.
Next morning, as Fire Bear sat before
his tepee smoking his long stone pipe, he
was approached by Spotted Dog.
"Hjfuh !" grunted the old chief contemp-
tuously in Crow. "What do you want?"
"Listen for a moment, great chief. In
the night I dreamed a dream, a most won-
derful and curious dream. The Great
Spirit himself appeared before me and
ordered me to play a game of poker with
Chief Fire Bear. As proof," he held out
the pack of cards, "I have here a pack of
cards that the Great Spirit left in my te-
r>ee. Oh, Chief Fire Bear, well we know
WAS IT JUST AN IDLE DREAM?
297
fireside, of his home, and the great devel-
opment which he had noticed during his
long and active life had increased to even
a greater extent. Even society had
changed. Somehow, there were no longer
any of the very rich to oppress mankind,
nor yet did he see any of the very poor.
Society seemed to have progressed so far
as to reach a common level. Science and
invention seemed to have kept pace with
social development, for on every hand his
eyes beheld suns and his ears heard sounds
which almost bewildered him with their
immensity and their grandeur. How he
got there he did not know. He simply
'knew he was there, and glad he was to
contemplate the wonderful development
of conscience and invention over that of
our present day.
Holding to the arm of a venerable
guide he was shown the wonders of his
own American continent, and after hav-
ing viewed its various phases he was led
to a subway station. On the platform
emerged seven large tubes. In the front
of some of these a car was seen, and as
Mr. Johnson entered one of these cars
in this elaborate station in New York,
the guide gently closed the door, and as
he walked to the other end of the car
a distance of perhaps thirty feet, he re-
marked : "Now that we have seen Amer-
ica, let us take a glance at England."
With that he opened the door at the other
end of the car and to Temple's surprise
he found himself on the streets of Lon-
don. Real as this feat seemed, Temple
was inclined to doubt, and with consid-
erable pains he began to investigate the
methods of construction and the details
of this wonderful pneumatic tube. He
found the construction under the Atlan-
tic had been effected by a wonderful ser-
ies of ice machines arranged in stations
twenty miles apart across the ocean. These
stations were connected with ammonia
tubes arranged in circular form with the
pipes close together and stretched across
the entire expanse. When the water was
frozen around these tubes it formed a
solid casing of ice in the shape of a
big pipe reaching the entire distance. The
water inside this big pipe of ice was then
rapidly pumped out. In its place were
built seven nickel steel tubes surrounded
by re-enforced concrete. When this ce-
ment was hardened the ice machines
ceased to operate and this immense re-
enforced concrete subway with its seven
vacuum tubes remained intact. The ice
plants remained, however, just as they
had originally been placed, so that at any
time a break occurred the water would
be frozen around the exterior of this tube
and stop the leak, while necessary re-
pairs were made.
So quickly, silently, and wonderfully
had their car started and passed over three
thousand miles of space and stopped with-
out a jar, that the old man was compelled
to ask his guide who he was, and what
was the meaning of it all.
In reply he looked at Temple with a
smile and said:
"These are 'the times of restitution' as
spoken of by all the holy prophets since
the world began." (Acts 3, 19. 21), and
my name : Well, my name is Melchesidec,
the architect and builder of the great
pyramid."
THE PROBLEM OF THE MILLIONAIRE
BY HENRY WALDORF FRANCIS
THE IXDISCKIMIXATE de-
nunciation of the millionaire
solely and simply because he is
a millionaire, and without re-
gard to his personality or the use he makes
of his wealth, is as senseless and without
justification as it would be to rage against
dynamite or strychnine because they can
be employed in illegal, dangerous and ne-
farious operations.
This is the era of the railroad, the
steamship even the aeroplane not of
the stage coach, the brig, and the gas
balloon. It is the era of "big things."
Modern enterprises require large capital,
and the corporation, and it is well to re-
member that but for corporations and cap-
italists we would not have the Railroad,
the Trolley, the Telegraph, Telephone-
any of the wonderful mediums of commu-
nication and transportation that have
revolutionized life and thought, and com-
pared to which the marvels, as we once
thought them, wrought by Aladdin's Lamp
are mere commonplaces. Since we are
or the majority of the public is opposed
to the Government (the Nation), engag-
ing in enterprises of a business character,
the Panama Canal excepted, we can look
nowhere but to private sources for im-
provements and progress not only in busi-
ness matters, but in such scientific and
eleemosynary lines as great hospitals, col-
leges, for research into the causes of dis-
ease, crushing diseases out and a hundred
other benefits to humanity. Under our
system of Government and with our jeal-
ous limiting of its powers, the United
States would never have reached the re-
markable state of development it has, and
individually we would in many important
respect? be helpless indeed, and certainly
would not be enjoying the fruits of mod-
ern inventive genius. For these things
we are indebted to aggregations of private
capital, their development being beyond
the means of any single individual, even
if any single individual had been or would
be willing to assume the risk that always
attends a new departure from beaten
paths. To accept the benefits which ag-
gregated capital confers and then to not
only denounce it but seek to destroy it
not its results oh, no, we will keep them !
simply because it is capital, certainly
looks like the heighth of ingratitude.
The choice is between Capitalism and
Socialism, and beautiful as the theories
of Socialism undoubtedly are, until Social-
ism can formulate some better scheme of
distribution than is comprehended by
"from every one according to his ability,
to every one according to his needs," it
will never win the majority of people to
its support. The tendency is to "bear
the ills we know rather than fly to those
we wot not of." Admitting the possibility
of being able to tell whether one is always
giving "according to his ability," needs
are changing things, largely imaginary and
born of contrasts and who is to deter-
mine what my needs are why I should
be satisfied with a cotton suit instead of
an all-wool one, and do not need the latter
as much as the next man? Etc., etc.
Plainly, for any man or body of men to
impose their ideas of my needs upon me
without regard to my own notions on the
subject would be exercising despotic power.
This is the question the question of the
willing subordination of the individual,
of envy and Self with the aided solution
of Distribution that Socialism will have
to offer some better, more explicit, com-
mend-itself-to-the-reason answer before
it is likely to be adopted to the extent its
ultra advocates preach and urge it. The
writer is not opposing Socialism in toto,
because in a very large measure he be-
lieves in it, and that it is practical, and he
realizes as every one with eyes and a
modicum of sense and feeling must, the
THE PKOBLEM OF THE MILLIONAIRE.
299
terrible inequalities prevailing under our
present social system, and that there is
something, somewhere, radically wrong
with it, becoming daily more and more in-
tolerable, and which being wrong cannot
endure. Only the Right can defy time;
nothing that is Wrong can, although its
righting may be slow and tedious, and its
seeming triumph often. It is probably
true that all of us are more or less, con-
sciously or unconsciously that is to say,
all of us who have to struggle for existence
and earn it by the sweat of our brow pre-
judiced against the possessor of wealth.
We do not forget what the old copybook
of our school days sought to impress upon
us that "money is the root of evil." The
copybook, however, was misleading. It is
not the use, but the abuse of money that is
the root of evil; and the copybook would
have been more accurate if it had said
"GREED is the root of evil."
But while the ambition to acquire wealth
is laudatory rather than condemnatory, it
is entirely plain that the millionaire can
and often does, use the power it gives him
to oppress the people, and that the public
should be protected against the wealth it
creates being employed for purely selfish
ends, and mere accumulation against, for
instance, such ways of using it as "corner-
ing" or attempting to "corner" any of the
necessaries of life a crime in every civi-
lized country of the world except the
United States corrupting public officials
or private persons, or for any purpose det-
rimental to morality and the public inter-
est. It is entirely within constitutional
legislative domain to accomplish this; in
other words, it is within the power of the
public itself, whenever it becomes wise
and united enough to assert itself and
subordinate the individual to the commu-
nity.
The greatest danger lies in the inactive
increase of wealth that is to say, its con-
tinual compounding in the mere course of
time without any labor on the part of the
owner or any return to the community.
This results from the privilege of dispos-
ing of property by Will and creating trusts
thereunder a privilege that should be
greatly limited. It should not be possible
for a millionaire to so tie up his estate
that when his unborn or infant grandson
comes into possession of his legacy it will
amount to twenty, thirty or fifty times the
original amount. This is only another
system of Primogeniture, and in its effects
is even more pernicious to society. Prevent
this and one of the great evils of million-
aires the dead in effect dominating the
living will disappear. Let the million-
aire enjoy honestly every dollar he earns
while living, but limit the amount he may
devise or bequeath to heirs or individuals
or for other than public purposes which
can be done among other ways by death
and inheritance taxation and absolutely
stop the now common practical suspension
of ownership. Let him divide his wealth
while living if he pleases divided wealth
'returns ultimately and comparatively
quickly to the public but prevent his
making money for others when he is in
the grave. It will be necessary, of course,
to guard against the evasion of laws made
to this end. This can be done. Contrary
to the generally prevailing idea, there is no
constitutional right to make a will. It is
wholly a statutory privilege, and any State
Legislature could revoke it altogether any
day it saw fit, and oblige all property to
pass under a Statute of Distributions a
fact every lawyer is or ought to be fully
aware of. Other safeguards against the
millionaire acquiring too great or oppres-
sive power are a progressive income tax,
progressive inheritance taxes, progressive
taxes upon him generally on the correct
theory that he requires and receives greater
public protection and should pay a higher
rate. In taxing we should follow the Fire
Insurance companies dividing into Ordi-
nary, Hazardous and Extra Hazardous
risks and increasing the premium or rate
according as the individual has more at
stake and more requires public protection.
Coming to Corporations, while they should
rot be hampered or their usefulness im-
paired or restricted by unwise or preju-
diced legislation and should not all be
set down as sinners and public enemies,
because some of them have been and are,
any more than we should all be regarded
as thieves because we have jails they
should be under strict Government super-
vision, limited as to the amount of divi-
dends they may pay allowance being
made for improvements and depreciation
liberally and any surplus earned beyond
fair returns should go into the Govern-
300
OVERLAND MONTHLY.
ment treasury as a tax upon the franchise.
In the case of railroads and other corpora-
tions of similar character, where the earn-
ing? exceed a fair return upon the invest-
ment after deductions for maintenance, de-
preciation and improvements, and the
surplus has been taken as a tax in the
manner stated, the toll charged the public
should be reduced, and in the event the
reduced toll should fail to prove sufficient
then the Government should refund out
of the surplus theretofore taken as a tax
enough to make good the loss. In this
way stockholders as well as the public
would be protected and there would be no
more "melon cutting" at the community's
expense. All "watering" of stocks and
let it not be forgotten that a "stock divi-
dend" is "water" upon the dividend stock
the public is expected to pay dividends,
and it is used as a pretext against any de-
mand for a reduction in fares and rates
it would be "cruel to the widows and or-
phans" into whose hands the stock has
been unloaded by the "melon eaters" to
reduce rates and the paltry six or ten per
cent dividend, all that is earned now upon
the capital in which the "water," since it
was allowed to be injected, must be includ-
ed all "watering" of stock, directly or in-