The Rising of the Tide

ballot boxes. You know those two birds are robbing this village every hour of the day. Nobody with pep enough to sit up and fight 'em. Rotten selfishness, that's what ails this town. Peo

he city, and we hav

t it out,' not disturb things. Nice place for a man who'd like to help a community

You must have several. I'm serious. You're like the men in the mines that will tackle but one job, always s

ou're lying down. I'm ashamed of you, Parson.

that taking a city calls

e it up," they said in the shop. It was only when calm settled over Sabinsport and he felt no violent reaction from his spirited attacks on town iniquities that he was depressed. This was one of these periods. The year before he had fought and won for the Progressive Party of the District a smashing victory. He was eager to f

riend, advising waiting. He hung h

h, in type of education, in their contacts with the world, they were close in a love of decency and justice, in contempt for selfishness and vulgarity. Both were accidents in Sabinsport, and so looked

ng expressions of life, a fine confidence in their power to create social institutions as well as forms of art which would sweep the world of what they called the "worn out." Whatever their professions, they went forth to lay bare the futility and selfishness

not see with their eyes or share their confidence in the possibility of regeneration through system. Like revolutionists in all ages

He worked up from cub reporter to a desk in the editor's room. But he chafed at the variety of things which occupied the editorial attention, at the tendency to confine reform to an inside page or even

. It had the varied collection of problems common to a prosperous Middle-West town, settled at the end of the eighteenth century, and later made rich by coal mines and iron mills. Ralph saw in Sabinsport a perfect model of the dr

ection. A regular feature of their day was an hour together in Ralph's office after the paper was on the press, and he was getting his breath. They were spending this hour together now, a late afternoon hour of July 28, 1914. It was a pleasant place to talk on a hot afternoon. The second floor back of the three-story building which housed the Argus opened by long windows on to a wide veranda, a touch of the Southern influence in building which w

ieve you can win by going at this thing in your usual way. You must find a new approach. Mulliga

the town for tolerating them, fight them to a finish. If I could get the proofs th

't get t

won't help m

d

ds, Micky Flaherty. Micky had listened at the Boys' Club, which Ingraham ran, to a clear and forceful explanation of why the ballot box must be sacred. He had given the talk at the first rumor that there had been a raid on the ballot box by Jake, for the direct purpose of finding exactly how the town stood towards giving him and

detail, and with relish too, it must be acknowledged, how at midnight he alone had stolen from the clerk's office in the town hall the ballot boxes, and how he had worked with Jake and two or three faithful foll

. Micky's sense of guilt might recognize the confessional, but it did not, and would not, recognize the witness stand. He had no intention

believe for a moment that Jake and Reub are anything

artly because I like Jake

ho saved a neighborhood from freezing to death because he's too blamed obstinate and narrow to listen to the leaders of his own workingmen. 'Runs his business to sui

r that coal; most of it

u. Of course you did.

how fine and able Jack is. He has already swung the old man into modernizing the 'Emma.' If we will stand by him, I believe in time he will have reformed his father. Give him a chance at least

y own it from the ground to the electric wires; and they

hed in the '90's? He is never done talking about the water works. His wife used to say he celebrated them every time he turned a tap-water for turning a tap to a man who had carried every gallon in buckets from a spring by the barn for years and years! Pure water to a man who had seen a town he loved swept by typhoid! You ought to realize what it took for him to bring that about; you who are trying to do things here now. He could not budge the town. He and Reuben practically put up the money for the water. They had learned

nd put things through, while the respectable have been afraid to go ahead, lest they should lose something. Now

lowing you up. If you would concentrate on the presen

alph. What'

s the use when your best friend's like that? What has it got to do with us in Sabinsport if Austria has declar

k, springing up, "that A

just came in,"-flinging a y

on't you know w

er day; what's that? They'll clean up a little affair like Serbia quick enough; teach her to stop running around with a chip on her shoulder. And no matter, I tell you, Parson; it's nothing to Sabinspo

ad grown stern. "Good night, Ralph," he said curtly; "just telephone me to-night

n the street without seeing peo

arson is worried. Met him and he didn't see me.

t heard of trouble. Maybe Mick

ked worried, they often had noticed, unless somebody had b

r of the fruit store and a half dozen miners over the hill, who had some understanding of the awful possibilities of Austria's declaratio

means, in one of those charming, middle-west towns settled early in the nineteenth century by New Englanders, their severity tempered by a sprinkling of Virginians and Kentuckians. Great Rock, as the town was called from a conspicuous bluff on the river, was planned for a big city; but the railroad failed it, and it remained a quiet town, where a few men and women ripened into happy, dignified

n him horses, and, an unusual accomplishment, as Dick afterwards learned, had trained him to walking. A tramping trip by the two of them had been one of Dick's joys from the time he could remember. He did not know then that his guardian had more than pleasure in view by t

, wise, counseling power. He had done what had been suggested, and always found joy in it. He had never really wanted anything in life, as he could remember. His guardian had foreseen everything. And now what was he? A boy of 23, with comfortable means, a passion for reading, for travel and fo

g and short holidays he spent tramping Central

rogress which each generation works out. I think this because you so love people. You'll never be content, as I have been, with books and solitude. I don't think you realize how full your life has been of hu

h their useful activities. To this he did not object; but while so active he had been chilled to the bone by his failure to get spiritual reactions from his parishioners. Moreover, he had been unable to establish anything like companionship, as he had known it, with any one in his chu

. For the first time in his life he wanted his mate. He couldn't face life again without one. He would go and find her. Why, why, he asked himself, had he not done this before? It was so clear that it was she that he needed. He did not ask himself if he loved her. He knew he did. As for Annie's loving him? Had he waited too

ul that it was in the dark that he heard the words at her doo

together and took to the road, Swiss bag on his back. He seemed to have no friend now but the road, and more

ing sun, until finally they are mountains. A fine, old post road from the East, one that had been fought over by French and Indians and British and trod by Washington, was Dick's main route. He knew it we

lls, splendid woodwork and great rooms, but low and narrow doors, built at a

modation the country had not needed since the passing of the stage coach. Often he struck off the highway and made detours over wooded hills a

ful, crystal curve was visible from where Dick stood in charmed surprise. The town that filled the mounting semicircle, in spite of its wealth of trees, could be roughly traced. On the high slope which ran gently down from where he stood were scores of comfortable houses of well-to-do folk, all of them with generous lawns. They ran the American architectural gamut, Dick guessed, for he c

r what Dick guessed was a red brick business section. "It was once

ed by trees which grew in abundance on the steep slopes. The most striking feature of the picture was a great iron mill to the left. It filled acres of land along the south river bank, its huge black stacks, from which smoke streamed straight to t

quaint front of the Hotel Paradise. It was like things he had seen years before in the South; a long, brick building with steep roof and tiny gables fronted by narrow verandas with slender, girlish, iron pillars. The arched door was perfect in its proportions, and the big stone hall was cool and inviting. But once inside, Dick

rrified men. He caught the words, "On fire." "One hundred and fifty men shut in." "No hope." A word of inquiry and he learned that at a near-by coal mine, they spoke of as the "Emma," there had been a terrible disaster. He learned too t

relief that on the instant could be gathered, were just ready to leave. Quickly sensing the leader, a young man of not over twenty-fi

look. "Jump in," he said curtly

all looked peaceful enough to the straining eyes of the men on the flat car. It was not until they were within a quarter of a mile of the place itself that they caught the outline of the crowd that had gathered. Dick's first thought was, "How quiet they are!" They we

ause, so trivial that the miners themselves who were within reach and might easily have put out the first flame had not taken the trouble. An open torch had come in contact with a bit of oily rag.

ked it, were driven back. The shaft was timbered, and before they knew it the timbers were blazing. The smoke spread through the levels. A thing, so easy to stop at the beginning, was now taking appalling proportions. Men who had passed by the flames on their way to the 1:30 cage and had not even stopped to lend a hand to put it out

reet vender. Another, the driver, who moved everybody who came and went to the mines. They had gone down without hesitation. Halfway down the smoke began to overpower them, but they went on. The probability is that they were unconscious before they reached the bottom, for only a fe

ollection of nationalities now fused into one, stood around the shaft for four hours before the first signal was given, a peremptory call to raise the cage. As it came up and the few that were allowed at the shaft saw who were in it, such a shout of exultant joy as Dick had never heard came from them, "They are al

were alive, might it not be that the other hundred were? But it was not to be! The draft had aroused the smoldering flames, and when the cage attempted again to descend sharp signals were soon given. This time it was only the rescue party that came up, and they were in various stages of collapse. The cry went out, "She has broken out!" "She has broken out!" The reaction on the

knew a little of everybody's language, enough to make himself understood at least; the fact that he understood their customs, had made many of the miners open their hearts to him in a way which otherwise would have been impossibl

with Jack Mulligan, the stern young man who had bid him to jump on the flat car the morning that they had started from Sabinsport. Jack, he h

because it was his mother's wish, he had taken it; but he had turned it into the way of his own tastes. He had thrown himself heartily into the work of the great technological institute to which he had been sent. He had taken all of the special training as a mining engineer that the country afforded, and h

d in whom his pride was so great, had them at heart. Jack had finally brought his father to consent to electrify the mines completely. The whole equipment had been ordered. In a few months at least it would be in place, and now this fearful thing had happened. No wonder that day after day as he went about white and silent among the people, his heart was bitter, not against his father, but against th

w just one thing, that the two leading stockholders in the "Emma," the men who had always run it, were the two most unscrupulous and adroit politicians in that part of the world-the two that he had set out from the start to "get." He felt that in the mine disaster he had, as he said, "the goods." They, particularly Jake, were responsible for this awful thing. And never a day that he did not in the Argus publish wrathful and indignant articles, trying to arouse the community. He received no protest from his victims. Jake was so overwhelmed by the disaster itself, so a

tate. They were practically null. It was then that he went to Ralph and laid before him the possibility of using this disaster as a means of securing in the State a fair compensation law. And he said to him very frankly, "I believe that if the Union leaders here, the better

thing like a program. In the meantime Dick, who by this time had won the entire confidence of Jack, opened the matter. It needed n

ockholders' dividends in sentimental and Utopian plans. Reuben Cowder stood steadfastly against the scheme. To him it was utterly impractical, an un-heard-of thing. While the matter was being discussed, Ralph hammered daily, wisely and unwisely. It touched Dick to the heart that Jack never but once spoke of this, and that was one day when

aveler delayed en route. With the remembrance came the realization of what these people had come to mean to him, that he was actually m

n the disaster which had for a time swept down all the barriers in the community they had become deeply interested in Dick. His hallmarks were so much finer than any they had ever dreamed possible to secure for their chur

an they want you. They are in a fair way to die of respectability. You can perhaps resurrect the

was happy. He realized in his leisure moments, of which he had few enough, that he was happy without several things that he

thing of which the inhabitants themselves were quite unconscious. As a matter of fact, all sorts of people were blending in Sabinsport. A thin pioneer stream of Scotch, Irish

ze. Slowly but surely the trade that had so long put into Sabinsport changed its course to what only too soon they began to call the City. Fewer and fewer boats came up the river, fewer and fewer coaches and laden wagons came from the up-country. The town submitted with poor grace to its inevitable decl

was still those early settlers who had first come into the town and built the splendid old houses, with their spacious grounds, that considered themselves the aristocracy. It was an aristocracy a little insistent with n

oney and had come into the town. Their children had learned trades, indeed there was a corner of the high land known as Welsh Hill; a place where one found reliable workmen of all sorts, and a place too which was famous for

s; among them was a man, Rupert Littman, who once had milked his father's cows and raked his hay and now was president of one of the richest banks, a stockholder in eve

o back to Serbia to fight. They had been most exultant with the outcome of the war. The most intelligent of this group was Nikola Petrovitch, a thoughtful fellow of thirty-five or forty, an ardent Pan-Slavist. It was only because of an injury he had sustained in the mine at the time of the great disaster that he had not gone out in 1912. He had followed with Dick every step of the war, chafing bitterly that it was impossible for him to be in the fight. When at the end of June, 1914, the news of the murder of the Grand Duke ha

they did not realize was that this man with his queer name was probably as well read as any man of the town, certainly far better read in European affairs than any of the leading citizens of Sabinsport. His ambiti

any's social work. The forms of social insurance she had devised interested him keenly. He had regularly written enthusiastic editorials on the way she met the breaking down of men through age, illness, accident. Her handling of employment was one of his stock subjects. Germany was socially efficient in his mind, preserving men power, "as well as machines and hogs," as he put it in the phrase of his school. He pictured her as a land where every man and woman was well housed, continuously

. He published the news as it came to him daily. He kept the maps on his walls, and now and then he wrote a few correct paragraphs, noting the change in situation. He was pleased th

per and still be so completely cut off from the affairs of the globe outside of the United States? It was a fact, but Dick could not

g care of their scrap heaps. A million a year coming here to be reconstructed and Americanize

ances of various points of view, he had played the fascinating game of speculation and forecast that traps every student of history and politics who in the last forty years has spent any length of time in any great continental center. Dick knew something of the ambitions of every nation in Europe, something o

helming him. "Of course, they'll stop it," he told himself; "they have b

h loved her garden, and the severe outlines of the company house were softened with blossoming honeysuckle, which filled the air with a faint perfume. It was very sweet to see, but before Dick wa

tice! Thou

eepest bo

rbian child

lp as in

ighty hand

rugged pat

pe! protect

own and Se

sepulche

e resurre

ough of dir

anew

hundred yea

elt before

in, O God

s the Serbia

. Nikola, Yovan, Ma

end of a shift, and the men who had come out had washed, eaten and now were smoking their pipes

e called to him. "I

raid so,

little Serbia for, a big one like A

his Irish fr

l right. Nikola is going in the morning. Marta too. It

he flared up and said, 'He no go, I go! Serbian men fight-not 'fraid.' I

foremen dropped out of the

and Marta came up, and went home with them. Nikola was just here. He told me Serbia was going to

mment was, "Must be some country that will take a

," sai

e that some one is at the 10:30 to-morrow morni

n they're fools enough to rush out without knowing whether there's going to be

right, Ralph, and no man could hold Nikola

if you

of the Sabinsport Argus for July 29, 191

is morning for New York. They expect to sail at once for Serbia, where they will join the army whic

the Great War first