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He was

ceaseless chattering of the telegraph instrument, as the various messages were fitting to and fro.

Meantime, the storm rose and fell.

During a brief pause, human voices were unmistakably heard from without. There could be no doubt about it this time.

“Somebody's outside, sure,” said Lute.

Yes, we are not mistaken nor:

Suddenly loud voices were heard, and heavy footfalls. Then the office door was violently flung open just as Fred and Lute both jumped from their seats.

“Throw up yer hands, young fellers," sang out a hoarse, gruff voice, “an' be

quick about it, tu." In the doorway 'stood a tall man roughly clad, wearing a blanket coat, a slouch old hat, and his features concealed with a bandana handkerchief. Through the burned holes gleamed two black, flashing eyes, savage as devils. pointing a revolver at the boys.

Behind the bandit stood two of his pals, both masked and armed. Up went the boys' hands. No second order required. In the bedroom just behind stood a big repeating rifle and a shotgun, both charged. But what good were they yards away against such a trio? To make a false move meant death.

“Tie 'em tight," said the leader roughly, addressing the other two men.

This was quickly done with ropes and straps. With hands and feet securely pinioned, Fred and Lute were left lying on the floor, to unpleasant reflections.

One of the bandits picked up a red lantern and lighted it. Then the office lamp was blown out, leaving the room in Simmerian darkness.

“Doan't you fellers move or peep, or yer'll be sorry fur it," growled harshly the big leader, as the three filed out. They took the precaution to lock the door from the outside.

All this time the instrument was clicking away. Singular that the bandits had not smashed the sounder. Queer oversight that they had not gagged the boys. Later they saw the folly of it.

Everything was plain now. The bandits proposed to stop the North Coast

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table, and groping about found the key. To call up the operator at Homestake was only the work of a moment.

“This is the Kid. Is that you, Jeff ?" clicked Fred.

“Yes. What's up?" flashed the an

Limited and hold up the train. First, they turned the signal light so as to warn the engineer. Then they would, besides, swing the danger lantern.

I see the game," said the Kid in a whisper to Lute, “but I'll head 'em off-2

"Now, how,” whispered back Lute in the darkness.

“Wait, wait-keep still."

Over by the door, just inside, was a small boot scraper, to clean muddy boots. The edge of the metal scraper


Plenty's up here. Lute and I both held up by three masked fellows. Has the N. C. L. passed yet?"

No, expect her in five minutes."

“Stop her; tell engineer not to heed signal at Spur. Is only ruse hold up


AN UNKNOWN GRAVE IN ALLATOONA PASS. On the headstone is: " An unknown hero, he died for the cause he thought was right."

On line of N. C. & St. L. Ry.

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train. Remember. Understand?"

“Yes. O. K."

“That fixed their pudding plenty, I guess,” whispered Fred.

“Bully for you, Kid,” said Lute. “But if the robbers find out what you've done they'll kill us both sure," added Lute in a quavering whisper.

“We'll pull our freight mighty quick,” answered the Kid, “before they'll get our wind.”

Time was precious; none to be lost. To be caught by the bandits now meant death.

Fred and Lute grasped the guns and prise, in bitter anger they discharged a crept cautiously out through the back few random shots at the retreating door. They found the robbers' horses train. tied on the lee side of the little coal Through the darkness and howling shed just in the rear. Kid cut the halter tempest then came angry shouts and straps and turned them adrift. But the fiendish oaths. The red lantern was poor animals huddled back to shelter seen flying towards the station, The later and gave the robbers a chance to robbers were rushing for vengeanceescape.

and their horses. However, the bandits were some dis- In a moment Fred and Lute saw the tance down the track, waiting for the office all aglow with lamp light. DeFlyer. The cold was bitter and the moniacal yells and louder curses rose storm fiercely raging. The robbers were when the robbers discovered the escape very impatient, stamping, pacing, and of the boys. Evidently the bandits cursing at the delay.

guessed why the flyer had not responded Twenty rods behind the station rose to the signals, for, seizing chairs they quite a hill densely covered with trees smashed the table and instruments, and brush. Lute and the Kid quietly leaving the office a complete wreck. climbed up some distance and secreted Mounting their horses they rode themselves in a clump well sheltered swiftly and silently away to the north from the storm and cold. The position and were quickly swallowed up in the commanded a good view of the station black tempest. and a long stretch of track. Away down

Nor did they escape any too soon. the road they could see gleaming like a

Scarcely had they disappeared before an spark the fiery danger lantern carried

engine and car came plunging down from by the bandits.

Homesta ke. The bandits would not “We've spoiled their little game," have wished to held up this little train, chuckled the Kid.

for it contained some twenty-five reso"All the credit's yours; you're the lute fellows armed to the teeth. chap that got us out of the ugly scrape.”

When the section boss at Homestake Silently the boys waited and watched.

heard of the hold-up at the Spur he Time moved laggardly. They were get

quickly collected an armed crowd of ting very cold and impatient. The ban

railroad employes and closely followed dits were swearing and restless.

the flyer down the track. His hope of Finally, away up the track was heard

catching the robbers proved vain, for the scream of the Flyer. Two minutes

they had just fled before the later and the great dazzling headlight reached the spur.

Pursuit in the darkshot into view. She was coming down

ness and storm was then useless. Beat a "fifty-mile pace” to run the gaunt

fore daylight a foot of snow had fallen let.

thus obliterating all traces of the banNow the robbers seen wildly

dits, Nothing more was heard or seen swinging the blood-red signal. Lute

of them. and the Kid fairly held their breath. On, on, rushed the iron monster like a demon of vengeance.

Past the ban- And as for the Kid: He was the hero dits, past the station, the train dashed of the hold-up that was frustrated. He with unslackened speed. Out of sight has been reported to headquarters as a she had whisked in flash, darting "young man of nerve, good judgment, around a curve,

prompt action, and one well meriting As if in defiance and mockery of the promotion." robbers, the engineer gave several sharp However, Fred and Kelso are well toots as he shot past the station. Hardly satisfied with the outcome. had the bandits time to realize that “Lute and I had glory and fun enough their plans were foiled before the flyer for one night in coppering the robbers' had passed. Recovering from their sur- game,” was the Kid's modest comment.







AGANDA. Excerpts from its Literature, which The Intercollegiate Socialist Society

would distribute, range from Revolution to Inanity.



Thomas Wentworth Higginson, whose name among the signers to the call to form an Intercollegiate Socialist Society excited surprise among the admirers of his distinguished and patriotic career, was conspicuously absent from a recent meeting at which some of his fellow signers and a group of sympathizers with that call, representing even more than “fifty-seven varieties” of socialism, formed an organization. It is reasonable to attribute to his absence a certain significance. He may be representative of others who have innocently lent the weight of their names to a movement of whose sinister origin and unpatriotic purpose they had been ignorant.

It was quite fitting that this aggregation of "impossibilists,” revolutionists" and all-round economic freaks should elect "eat-'em-alive" Jack London as their president. He is the “barker" who invites the crowd to walk inside and feast upon garish cataclysms eclipsing “The Fall of Babylon” or “The

Destruction of Pompeii.” Hear him at the gate :

Socialism is distinctly revolutionary and in scope and depth is vastly more tremendous than any revolution that has ever occurred in the history of the world.

I know that anarchy, civil war, death and crime will be the results of the revolution I prophesy; but what are you going to do about it.

The rest of the official staff of this organization

First vice-president, Upton Sinclair, newspaper writer; second vice-president, J. G. Phelps Stokes, settlement worker; secretary, M. R. Holbrook, secretary of the Collectivist Society; treasurer, Owen R. Lovejoy, secretary of the National Child Labor Committee.

It has been shown in a previous article that the origin of this dilettante cult of revolution is foreign. Its sinister source lies among those who plot in European cities to overthrow governments.

The chief activity of this imported school

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First gun in Battle of Chicka mauga, September 18, 19, 20 and 21, 1863.


finds vent in printed matter.

This constitutes the "literature suitable for college men,” which it is the purpose of the new society to distribute. It will be interesting to look at a few samples of this literature, of which these disciples aspire to become collegiate apostles. It ranges from violence to inanity, and of its making there seems no end.

Few persons outside the circles of avowed socialism are aware of the zeal and ingenuity exerted to multiply the productions of its pens and presses. The International Socialist Review, the most pretentious periodical of the movement in this country, is published monthly by a co-operative house.

The same house publishes much other Socialist literature, including a series of more than forty booklets. The house is in debt, and each issue of its International Review contains an appeal for stock subscriptions, together with an acknowledgment of subscriptions received. Some of the names in the list are of well-known persons, who, as have been the friends of Mr. Higginson, may be surprised to learn to what end their subscriptions are devoted. One of the recent appeals reads:

America is ripe for Socialism. Whether genuine international Socialism is to come at once to the front, or whether we are to have a long and painful siege of opportunism, depends largely on the amount and the kind of Socialist literature circulated in the near future, and this again depends to a very considerable extent on the financial position of this publishing house. Comrade, it rests with you to say whether the growth of our work shall be rapid or slow.

A few extracts from the literature provided by this co-operative house will suffice to indicate its character, which the Intercollegiate Socialist Society would consider “suitable for college men.” The editor of the International Review, in the course of an address to the Socialist convention held in Chicago last June, to form an organization to fight the American Federation of Labor, said:

The proletariat of America stands ready to grasp any weapon, the ballot, the strike, the boycott and the bullet, if necessary.

The cheers that greeted this outburst encouraged him to add:

This is the beginning of the greatest battle in history.

The following are some excerpts from issues of the International Review:

The Socialist movement differs from trades unionism in this, that per se it has nothing whatever to do with anything short of the revolutionary solution of the labor or industrial problem.

The only hope of an adequate representation of the Socialist movement in the field of journalism is the establishment of a Socialist press, frankly revolutionary:

While Tolstoi would have peace even at the price of liberty, Socialists prefer war for freedom to the peace of slavery.

The socialist tinder now on hand needs only some violent clash of classes to strike the spark to ignite it, and with the ruling classes ready to fan the flame, we have all the elements essention to a Social conflagration.

The coming revolution will be much less of a sudden uprising against the authorities than a long drawn out civil

All indications point to the probabil. ity that American Socialism will be the champion who will batter down the walls of capitalism.

The Socialist party of America stands in the most intelligently revolutionary and uncompromising position of any Socialist party in the world.

Three interesting epochs in the history of the world are the English revolution of the 17th century, the French revolution of the 18th century, and the approaching World Revolution of the 20th century. The third will see the final overthrow of the autocratic, aristocratic and plutocratic forces of government.

There is no Socialism that is not Rey. olutionary Socialism. This is a Revolutionary Ideal to be attained by a Revolutionary Class, preaching a Revolutionary Propaganda, through the agency of a Revolutionary party, and by which the workers are to secure the general ownership of the means of production and distribution for all the people.

Interspersed through some of the other literature distributed by publishers of the International Review are such gems as the following:

From Ferdinand Lasalle: The revolutionary method, terrible as are the drawbacks with which it is accompanied, has in spite of them the one advantage of attaining speedily and energetically a practical result.

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