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CHAPTER XXVI

A ROVING COMMISSION

was difficult for Ralph to sleep after the departure of Big Denny. He was still under the disturbing influence of the exciting events of the afternoon and evening. His mother had not been disturbed by the watchman's visit. Ralph finally strolled out into the garden, and sat down in the little summer house to rest and think.

He did not exactly feel as though he were at the height of his ambition, but Ralph did feel exceedingly thankful and encouraged. He valued most the friends he had gained personally, from the lowly walks of life it was true, but who had been bettered and elevated by the contact.

The pre-eminent thought now in Ralph's mind was concerning Gasper Farrington. Had things gone on smoothly, and had the magnate left him alone, Ralph might have been inclined to accept the situation. His mother did not care to rouse a sleeping enemy, and he would have respected her decision. But now that Farrington had so palpably shown his intentions, had declared war Rh

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Rh to the knife, bitter and vindictive, all the fighting instincts in Ralph's nature arose to the crisis.

"I shall not take Mr. Matthewson's ten dollars a week unless I find the stolen plunder and really earn the money," Ralph reflected. "It is hardly probable I shall succeed along that line, after his expert assistants have failed. But in trying to locate Van's friends I shall probably be in the neighborhood of Dover, and I may stumble across some clew to Ike Slump's whereabouts."

Ralph went inside the house after an hour and brought out a railroad map. He studied the route of the Great Northern and the location of Dover, and went to bed full of the plan of his projected journey.

He showed his mother the check for the twenty dollars and his pass over the road the next morning, and explained his projects fully. They met with the widow's approbation.

"Not that I want to get rid of Van," she said feelingly. "He has grown very dear to me, Ralph. Poor fellow! Perhaps it is his affliction that appeals to me, but I should be very lonely with him away."

"I do not think he has many friends who care for him," theorized Ralph, "or there would have been some search, or inquiry through the newspapers."

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

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212 After breakfast Ralph went to the depot. He found his young pensioner, Teddy, in high feather over success in getting two hours' regular employment a day delivering bundles for a dry-goods store. Ralph gave him some encouraging advice, and went to see the young doctor who had attended Van.

He explained his intended experiment clearly, and asked the physician's opinion as to its practicability.

"Try it by all means," advised the doctor heartily. "It can do no harm, and the sight of some familiar place may be the first step towards clearing the lad's clouded mind. A great shock robbed him of reason; a like event, such as strong, sudden confrontation by some person or place he has known for years, may restore memory instantly."

Ralph was encouraged. When he went home he sat down with Van and tried to fix his attention.

It was very difficult. His strange guest would listen and look pleased at his attention, but his eyes would wander irresistibly after some fluttering butterfly, or with a gleam of satisfaction over to the wood pile his careful manipulation had made as neat and symmetrical as a storekeeper's show case.

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Rh Ralph pronounced in turn the name of every station on the main line of the Great Northern, but Van betokened no recognition of any of them.

Ralph waited in the neighborhood of Griscom's house after the 10.15 express came in, and intercepted the engineer on his way homeward.

He showed his pass and explained his project. He wanted Griscom to allow himself and Van to ride on the tender to the end of his run and back.

"That's all right, Fairbanks," said the engineer, "pass or no pass. Be on hand at the water tank yonder as we pull out the afternoon train. I'll slow up and take you on."

Ralph tried to express to Van that afternoon that they were going on a journey. Van only looked fixedly at him, but when Mrs. Fairbanks handed him a parcel of lunch, he proudly stowed it under one arm, and when she put on him a clean collar and necktie, he showed more than normal animation, as though he caught a dim inkling that something out of the usual was on the programme.

Van went placidly with Ralph. The afternoon train came along a few minutes after they had reached the water tank.

"Now then," said Ralph, as Griscom slowed up, "be lively, Van!"

His words may have conveyed no particular

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214 meaning to his companion, but the approaching train, the picturesque track environment and Ralph's energetic motions roused up Van, whose face betokened an eagerness out of the common as he commented:

"Engine."

"Yes, Van."

"Ride."

Ralph bundled him up into the cab, clambered back into the tender, and made a comfortable seat for Van on top of the coal.

On that perch the lad seemed a happy monarch of all he surveyed. Ralph realized that the variety and excitement had a stimulating influence on his mind, and that even if nothing materialized in the way of discoveries from the trip, the general effect on Van would be at least beneficial.

Griscom tossed a cheery word to his young passengers ever and anon. His fireman, a new hand, was kept busy at the shovel, and had no time to inspect or chum with the boys.

They passed station after station. Ralph kept a close watch on Van's face. It was as expressionless as ever. His eyes roamed everywhere, and he was evidently at the pinnacle of complacent enjoyment.

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Rh that he saw anything in the landscape or the depot crowds they passed that touched a responsive chord of recognition in his nature.

Forty miles down the road was Wilmer. It was quite a town. Southwest forty miles lay Dover, and west was the wild, wooded stretch known as "The Barrens." This was no misnomer. There were said to be less than twenty habitations in the desolate eighty miles of territory.

The Great Northern had originally surveyed ten miles into this section with the intention of crossing it, as by that route it could strike a favorable terminal point at a great economy of distance. The difficulties of clearing and grading were found so unsurmountable for an infant road, however, that the project had been finally abandoned.

They passed Wilmer. Signals called for "slow" ahead, as a freight was running for a siding. They had barely reached the limits of the town when Griscom put on a little more speed.

"Whoop!" yelled Van suddenly.

Ralph had shifted his seat on account of some undermining of the coal supply, and at just that moment for the first time was away from the side of his fellow passenger.

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216 Before he could clamber over the coal heap Van had arisen to his feet.

"Stop, Van!" shouted Ralph.

But Van's eyes were fixed on the little winding country road lining-the railway fence at the bottom of the embankment.

An antiquated gig, well loaded and attached to a sorry looking nag, and driven by a man well muffled up in a dilapidated linen duster, was plodding along the dusty thoroughfare.

Upon this outfit Van's eyes appeared to be set. His hand waved nervously, and he seemed to forget where he was, and was not conscious of what he was doing.

He was in the act of stepping off into nothingness, and in a quiver of dread Ralph yelled to the engineer:

"Mr. Griscom, stop! stop!"

But the engineer's hearing was occupied with the hiss of steam directly around him, and his attention riveted on signals ahead.

Ralph made a spring. Some lumps of coal slipped under his hasty footing. His hand just grazed a disappearing foot.

The train was going about fifteen miles an hour, and Van had recklessly taken a header down the embankment.

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title: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 26


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CHAPTER XXVII

RECALLED TO LIFE

landed half-way down the incline. His feet sank deep into the sandy soil, the shock threw him forward with dangerous velocity, and he went head over heels, slid ten feet like a rocket, and reached the bottom of the embankment.

His head landed squarely against the lower board of the fence. Rip! crack! splinter! The contact burst the board into kindling wood. Van drove through and about five feet beyond, and lay still and inert in the bed of the dusty country road.

Ralph believed he was killed. With a groan he leaped to the side of Griscom and grabbed his arm. The engineer's lightning eye followed his speechless indication of Van, and he pulled the machinery to a speedy halt that jarred every bolt and pinion.

Ralph was trembling with dread and emotion. He ran back along the track fifty feet, and breathlessly rushed down the incline at the point where Van had descended. Rh

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218 As he gained the bottom of the embankment his heart gave a great jump of joy. He saw Van move, struggle to a sitting posture, rub his head bewilderedly with one hand, and stare about him as if collecting his scattered senses.

"Are you hurt?" involuntarily exclaimed Ralph.

"Not much Hello! Who are you?"

Ralph experienced the queerest feeling of his life. He could not analyze it just then. There was an indescribable change in Van that somehow thrilled him. For the first time since Ralph had found him in the old factory he spoke words connectedly and coherently.

A great wave of gladness surged over Ralph's soul. He was a quick thinker. The presentation of the moment was clear. The young doctor at Stanley Junction had said that just as a shock had deprived Van of reason, so a second shock might restore it. Well, the second shock had come, it seemed, and there was Van, a new look in his eyes, a new expression on his face. Ralph remembered to have read of just such extraordinary happenings as the present. He had but one glad, glorious thought—Van had been recalled to life and reason, and that meant everything!

Toot! toot! Ralph glanced at the locomotive where Griscom was impatiently waving his hand.

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Rh The Great Northern could not check its schedule to suit the convenience of two dead-head passengers.

"Quick, Van," said Ralph, seizing the arm of his companion—" hurry, we shall be left."

"Left—how? where?" inquired Van, resisting, and with a vague stare.

"To the locomotive. We must get back, you know. They won't wait."

"What have I got to do with the locomotive?"

"You just jumped from it."

"Who did?"

"You."

"You're dreaming!" pronounced Van. "What you giving me—or I've been dreaming," he muttered, passing his hand over his forehead again.

Ralph suddenly realized that Van regarded him as an entire stranger, that time and explanation alone could restore a friendly, comprehensive basis.

He gave Griscom the go ahead signal. The engineer looked puzzled, but there was no time to waste, for the tracks were now signaled clear ahead. He put on steam and the train moved on its way, leaving Ralph and Van behind.

The boy paid no further attention to locomotive or Ralph. He struggled to his feet, and

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220 looked up the country road, then down it. The gig had disappeared, but a cloud of dust lingered in the air over where it had just turned a bend.

Van started forward in this direction. There was a pained, confused expression on his face, as if he could not quite get the right of things. Ralph came up to him and detained his steps by placing a hand on his arm.

The way Van shook off his grasp showed that he had lost none of his natural strength.

"What you want?" he asked suspiciously.

"Don't you know me?"

"Me? you? No."

"Hold on," persisted Ralph, "don't go yet. You are Van."

"That's my name, yes."

"And I am Ralph—don't you remember?"

"I don't."

"Ralph Fairbanks."

Van gave a start. He squarely faced his companion now. His blinking eyes told that the machinery of his brain was actively at work.

"Fairbanks—Fairbanks?" he repeated. "Aha! yes—letter!"

His hand shot into an inside coat pocket. He withdrew it disappointedly. Then his glance chancing to observe for the first time, it seemed, the suit he wore, apparel that belonged to Ralph,

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Rh he stood in a painful maze, unable to figure out how he had come by it and what it meant.

"You are looking for a letter," guessed Ralph.

"Yes, I was—'John Fairbanks, Stanley Junction.' How do you know?" with a stare.

"Because I am Ralph Fairbanks, his son. When you first showed it to me"

"Showed it to you?"

"Yes."

"Where?

"At Stanley Junction."

"I never was there."

"I think you were."

"When?"

"About three weeks ago. And you just left there this morning. You was with me on that locomotive that just went ahead, jumped off, and—you had better sit down and let me explain things."

Van looked distressed. He was in repossession of all his faculties, there was no doubt of that, but there was a blank in his life he could never fill out of his own volition. He studied Ralph keenly for a minute or two, sighed desperately, sat down on a bowlder by the side of the road, and said:

"Something's wrong, I can guess that. I had a letter to deliver, and it seems as if it was only a

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222 minute ago that I had it with me. Now it's gone, I find myself here without knowing how I came here, with you who are a stranger telling me strange things, and—I give it up. It's a riddle. What's the answer?"

Ralph had a task before him. In his judgment it was best not to crowd things too speedily, all of a jumble.

"You came to Stanley Junction with a letter about three weeks ago," he said. "It seemed you had dead-headed it there on the trucks from some point down the line."

Van nodded as if he dimly recalled all this.

"You hid in an old factory, or went there to take a nap. A baseball struck your head accidentally. We took you to our home, you have been there since."

"That's queer, I can't remember. Yes—yes, I do, in a way," Van corrected himself sharply. "Was there a chicken house there—oh, such a fine chicken house!" he exclaimed expansively, "with fancy towers made out of laths, and a dandy wind vane on it?"

"You built that chicken house yourself," explained Ralph.

"Oh, go on! " said Van incredulously.

"Well, you did."

"And there was a lady there, dressed in

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Rh black," muttered Van, his glance strained dreamily. "She was good to me. She used to sing sweet songs—just like a mother would. I never had a mother, to remember."

Van's eyes began to fill with tears. Ralph was touched at the recognition of his mother's gentleness. Emotion had lightened the shadows in Van's mind more powerfully than suggestion or memory.

Ralph felt that he had better rouse his companion from a retrospective mood.

"You're all right now," he said briskly.

"And I was knocked silly?" observed Van. "I see how it was. I've been like a man in a long sleep. How did I come out of it, though?"

"Just as you went into it—with a shock. I took you for a trip on a locomotive. Just as we got near here you made a sudden jump, rolled down the embankment, your head burst through that fence board yonder, and I thought you were killed."

Van felt over his head. He winced at a sensitive touch at one spot, but said, with a light laugh:

"I've got a cast-iron skull, I guess! But what made me jump from the locomotive? Did I have daffy fits?"

"Oh, not at all."

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224 "Well, then?"

"Why," said Ralph, "I think the sight of a man in a long linen duster, driving a one-horse gig down this road startled you or attracted your attention, or something of that sort."

"Ginger!" interrupted Van, jumping to his feet, "I remember now! It was—him! And I've got to see him. He went that way. I'm off."

"Hold on! hold on!" called the dismayed Ralph.

But Van heard not, or heeded not. He sprinted for the bend in the road, Ralph hotly at his heels.

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title: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 27


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CHAPTER XXVIII

MYSTERY

outran his competitor, then kept easy pace with him, and did not try to stop him. He recognized a certain obstinacy and impetuousness in Van that he felt he must deal with in a politic manner.

He noticed, too, that Van was not in normal physical trim. The roll down the embankment had wrenched one foot slightly, and when they came to the bend to discover no gig in sight, and a series of other bends ahead, Van halted, breathless and tired.

"Give it up!" he panted, sinking to a dead tree. "Oh, well! I can catch him up later. Twenty-miles tramp, though."

"You seem to know who the man in the linen duster is?" ventured Ralph.

"Oh, yes."

"Is it important that you should see him?"

"Well, I guess so!"

Van was close-mouthed after that. He lay back somewhat wearily on the log and closed his Rh

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226 eyes. The reaction from his tumble was succeeding the false energy excitement had briefly given him.

"See here," said Ralph, "I suggest that you take a little snooze. It may do you a heap of good."

"Wish that lady was here to sing one of her sweet songs!" murmured Van. "I just feel collapsed."

"If you will stay here quietly for a few minutes," suggested Ralph, "I will go to that house over yonder and get some water and a bite to eat. That will make you feel better. We had a lunch, but it was left behind on the locomotive."

"All right," said Van sleepily.

He seemed instantly to sink into slumber. Ralph waited a few moments, then he went over to a house on the outskirts of the town, all the time keeping an eye directed towards the spot where he had left his companion.

A woman stood in its open doorway. She had witnessed the jump from the locomotive, and referred to it at once.

"Where's the boy who was with you?" she inquired.

Ralph pointed to the spot where he had left Van.

"Was he hurt much?"

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Rh "I think not at all seriously. He's played out, though, and I have advised him to sleep a little."

"That's right," nodded the woman. "Natur's the panoseeds for all sich. That—and hot drops. You just take him a little phial of our vegetable hot drops. They'll fix him up like magic."

"Why, thank you, madam, I will, if you can spare them," said Ralph. "I was also going to ask you to put me up a bite of something to eat and let me have a bottle of water."

"Surely I will," and the good-hearted woman, pleased with Ralph's engaging politeness, bustled off and soon returned with a paper parcel, a two-quart bottle of water and a little phial filled with a dark liquid.

Ralph insisted on leaving her twenty-five cents, and went back to his friend with a parting admonition "to be sure and give him the hot drops soon as he woke up."

Van was sleeping profoundly, and Ralph did not disturb him. He sat watching the slumberer steadily. Van seemed to have placid, pleasant dreams, for he often smiled in his sleep, and once murmured the refrain of one of Mrs. Fairbanks' favorite songs.

An hour later Van turned over and sat up quickly. Ralph had been somewhat anxious, for he did not know what phase his companion's

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228 might assume at this new stage in the case. Van came upright, however, and dispelled vague fears—clear-eyed, smiling, bright as a dollar.

"Hello!" he hailed—"locomotive, friend, embankment. You're Fairbanks?"

"That's right," said Ralph—"you remember me, do you?"

"Sure, I do. What's in the bundle? Grub? and the bottle? Water? Give me a swig—I'm burned up with thirst."

"This first," said Ralph, producing the phial, and explaining its predicted potency. "Half of it—now some water, if you like."

Van choked and spluttered over the hot decoction. Ralph was immensely gratified as he followed it up by eating a good meal of the home-made pie, biscuits and cheese with which the kind-hearted woman at the nearest house had provided them.

Van's affliction had lifted like a cloud blown entirely away by a brisk, invigorating breeze.

"Rested and fed," he declared, with a sigh of luxurious contentment and satisfaction. "So I was crazy, eh?" he bluntly propounded.

"Certainly not."

"Idiotic, then?"

"Hardly," dissented Ralph. "My mother has

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Rh grown to think almost as much of you as she does of me"

"Bless her dear heart!"

"You've made our home lot look like the grounds of some summer villa," went on Ralph. "That don't look as though there was much the matter with you, does it?"

"But there was. It's all over now, though. My head is clear as a bell. I remember nearly everything. Now I want you to tell me the rest."

Ralph decided it was the time to do so. They would certainly be at cross-purposes on many perplexing points, until his companion had gained a clear comprehension of the entire situation.

There was never a more attentive listener. Van's eyes fairly devoured the narrator, and when the graphic recital was concluded, his wonderment, suspense, surprise and anxiety all gave way to one great manifestation of gratitude and delight, as he warmly grasped Ralph's hand.

"I never read, heard or dreamed of such treatment!" declared the warm-hearted boy. "You cared for me like a prince!"

"Seeing that I had so effectually put you out of business," suggested Ralph, "I fancy I had some responsibility in the case."

"I want to see your mother again," said Van,

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230 in a soft, quivering voice. "I want to tell her that she's woke up something good and happy and holy in me. I was a poor, friendless, homeless waif, and she kept me in a kind of paradise."

"Well, you have woke up to more practical realities of life," suggested Ralph, "and now what are you going to do next?"

But Van could not get away from the theme uppermost in his mind.

"And you are John Fairbanks' son?" he continued musingly. "And I landed against you first crack out of the box! That was queer, wasn't it? Some people would call it fate, wouldn't they? It's luck, anyhow—for you sure, for me maybe. The letter didn't tell you anything, though. Now what should I do? Say, Fairbanks, let me think a little, will you?"

Ralph nodded a ready acquiescence, and Van sat evidently going over the situation in his mind. As he looked up in an undecided way, Ralph said:

"I don't see any great occasion for secrecy or reflection. You were sent to deliver a letter?"

"Yes, that's so."

"To my father. My father is dead. We open the letter, as we have a right to do. It satisfies us that the writer knows considerable that might vitally affect our interests. Very well, it seems to me that your duty is to take me, the

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Rh representative of John Fairbanks, straight to the person who wrote that letter."

"Yes," said Van, "that looks all clear and nice enough to you, but I don't know how he might take it."

"You mean the writer of the letter?"

"Of course."

"Whose name is Farwell Gibson."

"I didn't say so," declared Van evasively.

"But I know it, don't I? Have you any reason for concealing his identity?"

"Yes, sir, I have," declared Van flatly.

"Why?"

"I can't tell you that. See here, Fairbanks, you guess what you like, but until I have reported the result of my mission to—to him, I have no right to say another word."

"All right," assented Ralph. "It will all come out clear in the end, only before we drop the subject I would like to make another guess."

"What is it?" challenged Van.

"That man in the long linen duster in the one-horse gig was Farwell Gibson."

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text: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 28

title: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 28


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CHAPTER XXIX

A RIVAL RAILROAD

was some mystery about Farwell Gibson, Ralph decided, and the more he scanned what he knew of his past, his peculiar method of sending the letter to his father, and Van's guarded manner, the more he was satisfied that there was a puzzle of some kind to solve.

The sun was going down and night was coming on apace. Ralph propounded a pertinent query.

"What is your next move, Van?"

"I don't mind telling you—to get after that one-horse gig."

"It's home by this time, probably."

"I intend to follow it."

"I think I had better go with you, Van," suggested Ralph.

"Why not? You don't think I am anxious to shake the best friend I ever had, do you? There's just this, though: Mr. Gibson is a kind of a hermit."

"And does not like strange society? I see. 232

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Rh Well, I shall not intrude upon him until you have paved the way. Let me keep with you. When you get near his home go on ahead and report just how matters stand. If he cares to see me, I shall be glad. If he don't, there's an end to it."

"That's satisfactory," assented Van heartily. "I guess he will be willing to see you."

"I hope so, Van."

"And if he does, I know you will be glad he did," declared Van convincedly.

"Do you intend to start for his place to-night?" inquired Ralph.

"I think we might. I feel fresh as a lark, and it's a beautiful night. If we get tired we can stop for a rest, and cover the journey by daybreak."

"By daybreak?" repeated Ralph. "Why, it's an easy four hours' jaunt."

"Is it? " smiled Van. "I guess not."

"Only twenty miles?"

"Yes, but such twenty miles! Why, it's a jungle half the distance."

"Isn't there a road?"

"Not a sign of one. The gig will make it on the cut-around, and that means a good forty miles."

"I see. Very well, Van, I am at your orders," announced Ralph.

He thought it best to secure some more

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234. They went into the village this time, and at a little store secured what eatables they fancied they might need.

The first mile or two of their journey was very fine traveling, for they kept for that distance to the regularly-traversed road the gig had taken.

Then Van, who seemed to know his bearings, directed a course directly into the timber.

"I don't see any particular fault to be found with this," remarked Ralph, after they had gone a couple of miles.

"Oh, this is easy," rejoined Van. "You see, the Great Northern started in right here to make a survey years ago. That's why there's quite a road for a bit. Wait till you come to where they threw up the job. I say, Fairbanks, that's where they missed it."

"Who? what? where?"

"The Great Northern. If they had surveyed right through and made Dover the terminal, they could have still put through what is now the main line, and this route would have kept the Midland Central out of the field."

"You seem pretty well-posted on railroad tactics," said Ralph.

"I am—around these diggings. I've been in the railroad line for two years."

"You a railroader!"

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Rh "I call myself one."

"You have worked on a railroad?"

"Sure—for two years."

"What railroad?"

Van regarded Ralph quizzically.

"Tell you, Fairbanks," he said, "that's straight, although the railroad hasn't a name yet, hasn't turned a wheel, is so far only two miles long, and that's all grading and no rails."

"Well, you present a truly remarkable proposition," observed Ralph.

"Isn't it? It's a reality, all the same. And it's the key to a situation worth hundreds of thousands."

"You mystify me," acknowledged Ralph,—"allowing you are in earnest."

"Absolutely in earnest. No joshing. I'm quite interested, too, for I'm one of the two men who have built the railroad so far."

"Who is the other?"

Van shook his head.

"That's a secret, for the present. I think you'll know soon, though—soon as you see Mr. Gibson."

Ralph had to be content with this. He comprehended that there was some basis to Van's railroad pretensions, and felt very curious concerning the same.

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Carey v. Population Services International

Section 6811 (8) of the New York Education Law makes it a crime (1) for any person to sell or distribute any contraceptive of any kind to a minor under 16; (2) for anyone other than a licensed pharmacist to distribute contraceptives to persons 16 or over; and (3) for anyone, including licensed pharmacists, to advertise or display contraceptives. In appellees' action against appellant state officials challenging the constitutionality of 6811 (8), a three-judge District Court declared the statute unconstitutional in its entirety under the First and Fourteenth Amendments insofar as it applies to nonprescription contraceptives, and enjoined its enforcement as so applied.

Held: The judgment is affirmed. Pp. 682-703; 707-708; 713-716.

Mr. Justice Brennan delivered the opinion of the Court with respect to Parts I, II, III, and V, finding that:

1. Appellee Population Planning Associates (PPA), a corporation that makes mail-order sales of nonmedical contraceptive devices from its North Carolina offices and regularly advertises its products in New York periodicals and fills mail orders from New York residents without limiting availability of the products to persons of any particular age, has the requisite standing to maintain the action not only in its own right but also on behalf of its potential customers, Craig v. Boren, 429 U.S. 190, and therefore there is no occasion to decide the standing of the other appellees. Pp. 682-684.

2. Regulations imposing a burden on a decision as fundamental as whether to bear or beget a child may be justified only by compelling state interests, and must be narrowly drawn to express only those interests. Pp. 684-686.

3. The provision prohibiting distribution of nonmedical contraceptives to persons 16 or over except through licensed pharmacists clearly burdens the right of such individuals to use contraceptives if they so desire, and the provision serves no compelling state interests. It cannot be justified by an interest in protecting health insofar as it applies to nonhazardous contraceptives or in protecting potential life, nor can it be justified by a concern that young people not sell contraceptives, or as being designed to serve as a quality control device or as facilitating enforcement of the other provisions of the statute. Pp. 686-691.

4. The prohibition of any advertisement or display of contraceptives that seeks to suppress completely any information about the availability and price of contraceptives cannot be justified on the ground that advertisements of contraceptive products would offend and embarrass those exposed to them and that permitting them would legitimize sexual activity of young people. These are classically not justifications validating suppression of expression protected by the First Amendment, and here the advertisements in question merely state the availability of products that are not only entirely legal but constitutionally protected. Pp. 700-702.

Mr. Justice Brennan, joined by Mr. Justice Stewart, Mr. Justice Marshall, and Mr. Justice Blackmun, concluded in Part IV that the provision prohibiting distribution of contraceptives to persons under 16, as applied to nonprescription contraceptives, cannot be justified as a permissible regulation of minors' morality in furtherance of the State's policy against promiscuous sexual intercourse among the young. Pp. 691-699.

(a) The right to privacy in connection with decisions affecting procreation extends to minors as well as to adults, and since a State may not impose a blanket prohibition, or even a blanket requirement of parental consent, on the choice of a minor to terminate her pregnancy, Planned Parenthood of Missouri v. Danforth, 428 U.S. 52, the constitutionality of a blanket prohibition of the distribution of contraceptives to minors is a fortiori foreclosed. Pp. 693-694.

(b) The argument that sexual activity may be deterred by increasing the hazards attendant on it has been rejected by the Court as a justification for restrictions on the freedom to choose whether to bear or beget a child. Eisenstadt v. Baird, 405 U.S. 438, 448 ; Roe v. Wade, 410 U.S. 113, 148. Moreover, there is substantial doubt whether limiting access to contraceptives will in fact substantially discourage early sexual behavior. When a State, as here, burdens the exercise of a fundamental right, its attempt to justify that burden as a rational means for the accomplishment of some state policy requires more than the unsupported assertion (appellants here having conceded that there is no evidence that teenage extramarital sexual activity increases in proportion to the availability of contraceptives) that the burden is connected to such a policy. Pp. 694-696.

(c) That under another provision of the statute a minor under 16 may be supplied with a contraceptive by a physician does not save the challenged provision, especially where appellants asserted no medical necessity for imposing a limitation on the distribution of nonprescription contraceptives to minors. Pp. 697-699.

Mr. Justice White concluded that the prohibition against distribution of contraceptives to persons under 16 cannot be justified primarily because the State has not demonstrated that such prohibition measurably contributes to the deterrent purposes that the State advances as justification. Pp. 702-703.

Mr. Justice Powell concluded that the prohibition against distribution of contraceptives to persons under 16 is defective both because it infringes the privacy interests of married females between the ages of 14 and 16 and because it prohibits parents from distributing contraceptives to their children, thus unjustifiably interfering with parental interests in rearing children. Pp. 707-708.

Mr. Justice Stevens concluded that the prohibition against distribution of contraceptives to persons under 16 denies such persons and their parents a choice which, if available, would reduce exposure to venereal disease or unwanted pregnancy, and that the prohibition cannot be justified as a means of discouraging sexual activity by minors. Pp. 713-716.

Brennan, J., announced the Court's judgment and delivered an opinion of the Court (Parts I, II, II, III, and V), in which Stewart, Marshall, Blackmun, and Stevens, JJ., joined; in all but Part II of which White, J., joined; and an opinion (Part IV), in which Stewart, Marshall, and Blackmun, JJ., joined. White, J., Powell, J., and Stevens, J., filed opinions concurring in part and concurring in the judgment. Burger, C. J., dissented. Rehnquist, J., filed a dissenting opinion.

Arlene R. Silverman, Assistant Attorney General of New York, argued the cause for appellants. With her on the briefs were Louis J. Lefkowitz, Attorney General, and Samuel A. Hirshowitz, First Assistant Attorney General.


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236 At about eleven o'clock that night Van's predictions as to the difficulties in the way of progress were fully verified.

They were apparently in the midst of an untrodden forest. The brush was jungle-like, the ground one continuous sweep of hill and dale.

It took one breathless, arduous hour to cover a mile, and their clothes and hands were scratched and torn with thorns and brambles.

"It's a little better beyond the creek," said Van. "A man could hide in a wilderness like this a good many years in a safe way, eh, Fairbanks?"

"Yes, indeed," answered Ralph, and mentally wondered if his companion was alluding to the mysterious Farwell Gibson.

They were a wearied and travel-worn pair as they lay down to rest at the first token of day-break. It was at the edge of a level expansive sweep surmounted by a dense growth of trees.

"We're nearly there," proclaimed Van.

"How near?" interrogated Ralph.

"You see that hill?"

"Yes."

"That's our last climb."

"I'm thankful," said Ralph.

They tramped up the slope after a bit. Once over its edge Ralph, looking ahead, made out a low rambling log house. It was about half a

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Rh mile away, and smoke was coming out of its chimney.

"Now then," said Van with a smile, "I reckon this is about as close as you need come, for the present—it's a great deal closer than many others have come."

"This is a very isolated spot," said Ralph.

"That's Mr. Gibson's house yonder," continued Van. "I'll go on alone, see him, report, and come back and advise you."

"That's business," said Ralph.

"Just wander around and amuse yourself," recommended Van. "You may find something to interest you."

Ralph grew tired of sitting alone and waiting for Van. As his recent companion had advised, he took a stroll. There seemed a break in the timber about one hundred feet to the left. Ralph proceeded in that direction. He paused at a ten foot avenue cut neat and clean through the woods, and stood lost in contemplation.

Far as he could see across the hill this break in the timber continued. The brush had been cleared away, the ground leveled here and there, some rudely cut ties were set in place, and the lay-out showed a presentable and scientifically laid put and graded roadbed.

"I wonder," said Ralph thoughtfully, "if this

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238 is a part of Van's boasted railroad? It looks all right as far as it's gone."

What Ralph scanned represented a great deal of labor, that could be discerned at a glance. He knew enough about survey work to judge that a master mind had directed this embryo railroad project.

Ralph was still inspecting the work when a shrill whistle signaled the return of Van.

"It's all right," he announced as he came up to Ralph. "I've told Mr. Gibson everything. He will see you."

"That's good," said Ralph.

He followed Van to the house in the distance. As he neared it he observed that a man stood in the doorway.

This individual was powerfully built, wore a full bushy beard, and had a keen, piercing eye.

He scanned Ralph closely as he approached, and then, standing partly aside, with a not ungraceful wave of his hand welcomed Ralph to the hospitality of his house.

"You are Mr. Gibson?" said Ralph, feeling impelled to say something.

"Yes, young man, I am that person, and this is the office of the Dover and Springfield Short Line. Come in."

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text: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 29

title: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 29


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CHAPTER XXX

THE RIGHT OF WAY

peculiar announcement of Ralph's host was so grandiloquent, and his manner so lofty and important, that the young railroader smiled despite himself.

Certainly Ralph decided the Dover & Springfield Short Line had its headquarters in a particularly isolated place, and its presentation of physical resources was limited.

"I never heard of that road before," observed Ralph.

"Probably not," answered his host—"you will hear of it, though, and others, in the near future."

Ralph did not attach much importance to the prediction. He had seen at a glance that Gibson was an erratic individual, his hermit life had probably given birth to some visionary ideas, and his railroad, simmered down to the tangible, had undoubtedly little real foundation outside of his own fancies and dreams.

Ralph changed his mind somewhat, however, as he crossed the threshold of the door, for he stood Rh

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240 in the most remarkable apartment he had ever entered.

This was a long, low room with a living space at one end, but the balance of the place had the unmistakable characteristics of a depot and railway office combined.

In fact it was the most "railroady" place Ralph had ever seen. Its walls were rude and rough, its furniture primitive and even grotesque, but everything harmonized with the idea that this was the center of an actual railroad system in operation.

There were benches as if for passengers. In one corner with a grated window was a little partitioned off space labeled "President's Office." Hanging from a strap were a lot of blank baggage checks, on the walls were all kinds of railroad time-tables, and painted on a board running the entire width of the room were great glaring black letters on a white background, comprising the announcement: "Dover & Springfield Short Line Railroad."

To complete the presentment, many sheets of heavy manilla paper formed one entire end of the room, and across their surface was traced in red and black paint a zigzag railway line.

One terminal was marked "Dover," the other "Springfield." There were dots for minor

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Rh, crosses for bridges and triangles for water tanks.

Ralph readily comprehended that this was the plan of a railroad right-of-way crossing The Barrens north and south from end to end, and the big blue square in the center was intended to indicate the headquarters where he now stood in the presence of the actual and important president of the Dover & Springfield Short Line Railroad.

Ralph must have been two full minutes taking in all this, and when he had concluded his inspection he turned to confront Gibson, whose face showed lively satisfaction over the fact that the layout had interested and visibly impressed his visitor.

"Well," he challenged in a pleased, proud way, "how does it strike you?"

"Why," said Ralph, "to tell the truth, I am somewhat astonished."

"That is quite natural," responded Gibson. "The idea of the world in general of a railroad headquarters is plate glass, mahogany desks and pompous heads of departments, looking wise and spending money. The Short Line has no capital, so we have to go in modest at the start. All the same, we have system, ideas and, what is surer and better than all that put together, we have the Right of Way."

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242 "The Right of Way?" repeated Ralph, taking in the announcement at its full importance.

"Yes, that means what? That under the strictest legal and full state authority we have a franchise, empowering us to construct and operate a railway from Dover to Springfield, and vesting in us the sole title to a hundred-foot strip of land clear across The Barrens, with additional depot and terminal sites.

"That must be a very valuable acquisition," said Ralph.

"I am not used to talking my business to outsiders," responded Gibson, "and you are one of the very few who have ever been allowed to enter this place. I admit you for strong personal reasons, and I want to explain to you what they are."

He sat down on one of the benches and waved Ralph to the one opposite. His mobile face worked, as silently for a minute or two he seemed concentrating his ideas and choosing his words.

"I am a strange man," he said finally, "probably a crank, and certainly not a very good man, as my record goes, but circumstances made me what I am."

A twinge of bitterness came into the tones, and his eyes hardened.

"The beginning of my life," proceeded Gibson, "was honest work as a farmer—the end of it is

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Rh holding on with bulldog tenacity to all there is left of the wreck of a fortune. That's the layout here. The Short Line, no one knows it—no one cares—just yet. But no one can ever wrest it from me. Ten years ago, when the Great Northern was projected, your father saw that a road across here was a tactical move, but the investors were in a hurry to get a line through to Springfield, and dropped this route. Later the Midland Central cut into Dover. They too never guessed what a big point they might have made cutting through here to Springfield. Well, I got possession of the franchise. I had to bide my time and stay in the dark. To-day, with the Short Line completed, I would hold the key to the traffic situation of two States, could demand my own price from either railroad for it, and they would run up into the millions outbidding each other, for the road getting the Short Line completely dominates all transfer passenger and freight business north and south."

"Why, I see that," said Ralph, roused up with keen interest. "It becomes a bee-line route, saving twenty or thirty miles' distance, and opens up a new territory."

"You've struck it. Now then, what I want to lead up to is Farrington—Gasper Farrington. You know him?"

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244 "Yes, I know him," assented Ralph emphatically.

"Between my old honest life and the dregs here his figure looms up prominently," resumed Gibson. "Around him has revolved much concerning your father and myself in the past. Around him will loom up considerable concerning you and myself in the future. For this reason I take you into my confidence—to join issues, to grasp the situation and to move down on the enemy. In a word: Gasper Farrington ruined my chances in life. In another, he robbed your father."

Ralph was becoming intensely interested.

"He robbed my father, you say?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure of that, Mr. Gibson?"

"I am positive of it. I have the proofs. Even without those proofs, my unsupported word would substantiate the charge. The more so, because I helped him do it."

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text: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 30

title: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 30


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CHAPTER XXXI

A REMARKABLE CONFESSION

" helped Gasper Farrington rob my father!" exclaimed Ralph.

"Yes," answered Gibson unhesitatingly.

Ralph wondered how he could make the admission thus boldly and unblushingly. Gibson, however, acted like a man who had taken a desperate stand with an important end to attain, and for the time being at least had set aside all questions of sentiment and conscience.

"It will be brief," said Gibson, after a pause. "When the Great Northern was on its first boom and everybody gone wild to invest in its bonds, I caught the fever too. My wife had died and I had no children, and converting my land into cash I came up to Stanley Junction with thirty thousand dollars in my pocket. I was always stuck on railroading. I fancied myself a director, riding in the president's car and distributing free passes to my friends. In a black moment in my life I ran afoul of Gasper Farrington. He took me under his wing and encouraged my visionary Rh

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246 ideas. At that time your father had twenty thousand dollars in Great Northern bonds. They were not all paid for, but nearly so. They were, in fact, held by a bank as trustee in what is known as escrow—that is, subject to his call on payment of the small sum still due on them. Your father had great confidence in Farrington. So had I. I put my capital in his hands."

Gibson became so wrought up in his recital that he could not sit still. He got up and paced the floor.

"If we had kept to a straight investment, your father and I," proceeded Gibson, "we would have been all right. But Farrington dazzled us with his stock-jobbing schemes. He actually did let us into a deal where by dabbling in what is called margins we increased our pile considerably. In about a month, however, he had us where he wanted us. That is, he had our affairs so mixed up and complicated that neither of us knew just where we stood, and didn't dare to make a move without his advice. For some time we had all been dabbling in Midland Central securities. One day, after he had got me to buy a big block of that stock, the market broke. I was a pauper."

"Had Mr. Farrington lost too?" inquired Ralph.

"He pretended that he had, but later I found

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Rh that he was the very person who was manipulating the stocks on the sly, and trimming us. We had a bitter quarrel. Then he said all was fair in war and business. I was desperate, lad, about my money, and when he set up a plan to get hold of your father's bonds, I went into it. I am sorry now. I was crazy those days, I guess, money-mad!"

The man's candor vouched for his sincerity, but Ralph looked sad and disturbed.

"Anyway, he got your father in a tight corner, and I helped him do it. It was a complicated deal. I can't say that Farrington stole those bonds outright, but in a roundabout way they finally came into his possession. If the transaction was ever ripped up, I don't believe it would stand in law. But I don't know that positively. Your father lost his bonds, and I got nothing out of the transaction. But there is something else that I want to get at. A little later, never doubting Farrington's honesty, your father gave him a mortgage on his homestead. It was done to protect your mother—that is, feeling himself getting involved, your father wished to be sure that she had at least a shelter over her head. There was no consideration whatever in the deal. It was merely put temporarily in the shape of a mortgage until affairs had cleared somewhat, when it

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248 was to be deeded to a third party, and then direct to your mother."

"Then Mr. Farrington never had a right to collect that interest money," said Ralph.

"He wasn't entitled to a cent of it. Farrington then got me into another deal. I had borrowed one thousand dollars from my brother. He got me to take security for it, as he called it. In some way he had got hold of the old Short Line charter here. At that time it was treated as a joke, and considered worthless. I didn't know it. He got my thousand dollars, claimed to lose it in a deal, and I was flat broke."

"And later?" suggested Ralph, recalling in an instant what he had heard from Big Denny about Gibson.

"Well, I got hard pressed. I saw a chance to get even with him. We were in a deal together. I canceled it to get a few hundred dollars, and signed our joint names as a firm. Later I learned that I had a right only to sign my own name. I went to his house. He threatened to have me arrested for forgery the next day, showed me the forged paper, as he called it, and a warrant he had sworn out. We had a fearful row. I beat him up good and proper, smashed some windows, and, disgusted with life and mankind, fled to this wilderness."

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Rh It was a vivid recital, running like some romance. Gibson took breath, and concluded:

"A man can't sit forever eating out his heart in loneliness. I knew that Farrington would not hesitate to send me to jail. I located here. One day, yonder faithful fellow, Van Sherwin, came along. He was an orphan outcast, I took him in. His company gave a new spur to existence. I got casting up accounts. I rarely ventured to the towns, but I sent him to a relative, who loaned me a few hundred dollars. I investigated the Short Line business, even paid a lawyer to look it up. I found I had something tangible, and that for a certain date, then two months ahead, provided I did some work each day except Sunday thenceforward on the right of way, I could hold the franchise indefinitely, unimpaired. Since then, Van and I have been at the grading work, as you see."

"And why did you write to my father?" inquired Ralph.

"My hard, bad nature has changed since Van came here to cheer me with his loyal companionship," said Gibson. "I always felt I had wronged your father. I wrote to him, thinking him still alive, to come and see me. Instead, you come as his representative. Very well, this is what I want to say: I am willing to make the statements

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250 in writing that I have given to you verbally. That, you may say, is of no practical benefit to you. But here is something that is: My sworn statement that the mortgage was in reality a trust will cancel everything. That means something for you, doesn't it?"

"It means a great deal—yes, indeed," assented Ralph.

"Very well," said Gibson. "You go and use the information I have given you, the threat to expose Farrington, to get him to destroy that forged note he holds against me, so that I can come out into the daylight a free man to put my railroad project on foot, and I will give to you a sworn statement that in any court of law will compel him to surrender to your mother, free and clear, your home. And I won't say right now what I will be glad to do for the widow and son of John Fairbanks, when the Short Line is an assured fact and a success."

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text: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 31

title: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 31


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CHAPTER XXXII

FOUND

did not take Ralph long to figure out the merits and prospects of the proposition that Farwell Gibson had made to him.

As the latter went more into details concerning his own and Mr. Fairbanks' dealings with Gasper Farrington, Ralph felt a certain pity for the hermit. He had been the weak, half-crazed tool of a wicked, cool headed plotter, had repented his share of the evil doings, and was bent on making what restitution he might.

The peculiar situation of affairs, Ralph's quick-witted comprehension of things, above all his kindness to Van Sherwin, had completely won Gibson's confidence.

They had many little talks together after that. They compared notes, suggested mutually plans for carrying out their campaign against the Stanley Junction magnate, legally and above board, but guarding their own interests warily, for they knew they had a wily, unscrupulous foe with whom to contend. Rh

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252 Gibson insisted that they could do nothing but rest that day and the next, and when the third day drifted along he took Ralph for an inspection of his enterprise.

There was not the least doubt but that Gibson had a valuable proposition and that he had legally maintained his rights in the premises.

"Every day except Sunday within the prescribed period of the charter, I have done work on the road as required by law," he announced to Ralph. "Van's affidavit will sustain me in that. Everything is in shape to present the scheme to those likely to become interested. It will be no crooked stock deal this time, though," he declared, with vehemence. "It's a dead-open-and-shut arrangement, with me as sole owner—it's a lump sum of money, or the permanent control of the road."

Van's eyes sparkled at this, and Ralph looked as if he would consider it a pretty fine thing to come in with the new line under friendly advantages, and work up, as he certainly could work up with Gibson so completely disposed to do all he could to forward his interests.

Next morning Ralph said he had other business to attend to. It was to go to Dover in pursuance with his instructions from Matthewson, the road detective of the Great Northern.

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Rh It was arranged that Van should drive him over in the gig. If Ralph made any important discoveries that required active attention, he was to remain on the scene. If not, he promised to return to "headquarters" on his way back to Stanley Junction.

Ralph reached Dover about noon, and put in four hours' time. He located Jacobs, the man to whom the stolen fittings were to have gone, he saw the local police, and he gathered up quite a few facts of possible interest to Matthewson, but none indicating the present whereabouts of Ike Slump, his tramp friend, or the load of plunder.

"Did you find out much?" Van inquired, as they started homewards about five o'clock.

"Nothing to waste time over here," replied Ralph. "I imagine the Great Northern has seen the last of its two thousand dollars' worth of brass fittings, and Stanley Junction of Ike Slump, for a time at least."

The Gibson habitation was more accessible from this end of The Barrens than from the point at which Ralph and Van had four days previously entered it.

There was a road for some ten miles, and then one along a winding creek for half that distance. Beyond that lay the jungle.

The sun was just going down when they forded

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254 the creek. The spot was indescribably wild and lonely. Its picturesque beauty, too, interested the boys, and they were not averse to a halt in mid-stream, the horse luxuriating in a partial bath and enjoying a cool, refreshing drink.

Suddenly Ralph, who had been taking in all the lovely view about them, put a quick hand on Van's arm.

"Right away!" he said, with strange incision—"get ashore and in the shelter of the brush."

"Eh! what's wrong?" interrogated Van, but obediently urged up the horse, got to the opposite bank, and halted where the shrubbery interposed a dense screen.

"Now—what?" he demanded.

Ralph made a silencing gesture with his hand. He dropped from his seat, went back to the edge of the greenery, and peered keenly down stream.

He seemed to be watching somebody or something, and was so long at it that Van got impatient, and leaping from the wagon approached his side.

"What's up?" he asked.

Ralph did not reply. Van peered past him. Down stream about five hundred feet a human figure stood, faced away from the ford, bent at work over some kind of a frame structure partly in the water.

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Rh "You seem mightily interested!" observed Van.

"I am," answered Ralph, and his tone was quite intense. "I expect to be still more so when that fellow faces about."

"If he ever does. There—he has!" spoke Van.

Ralph drew back from his point of observation, took a quick breath, and was palpably excited.

"I was right," he said, half to himself. "There's work here."

"Say," spoke Van, impatiently and curiously, "you're keeping me on nettles. What are you talking about, anyway?"

"That fellow yonder. Do you know who he is?"

"Of course I don't."

"I do—it's Ike Slump."

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text: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 32

title: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 32


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CHAPTER XXXIII

IKE SLUMP'S RAFT

" don't say so!" exclaimed Van.

"Yes," declared Ralph—"the missing Ike Slump is found. I would know him anywhere, in any guise, and at any distance, and that is he yonder."

"You don't seem to have luck or anything in finding opportunities—and people!" observed Van dryly.

"I don't know about that."

"There's the boy the railroad company wants to find, isn't it?"

"Well, Ike Slump alone, a vagabond fugitive, isn't so much what they are after," explained Ralph. "They want to recover that stolen plunder, and from the general appearance of Slump I don't imagine he has much of anything visible about him except what he probably calls 'hard luck.'"

"What are you going to do?"

"Have a talk with him first, if I can."

Ralph reflected for a few moments. Then he Rh

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Rh decided on a course of action. He suggested that Van remain where he was. Lining the shore himself, Ralph kept well in the shelter of the shrubbery until he was directly opposite the spot where the object of his interest was at work.

He could not secure more than a general idea of what Ike was about unless he exposed himself to view. Ike seemed to be framing together a raft. He was very intent on his task—so much so, that when Ralph finally decided to show himself he was not aware of a visitor until Ralph stood directly at his side.

"How do you do, Slump?" spoke Ralph, as carelessly as though meeting him on the streets of Stanley Junction in an everyday recognition.

"Hi! who—smithereens! Stand back!"

Ike let out a whoop of amazement. He jumped back two feet. Then he stared at his visitor in a strained attitude, too overcome to speak coherently.

"Ralph Fairbanks!" he spluttered.

Ralph nodded pleasantly.

Ike grew more collected. He presented a wretched appearance. He was thin, hungry-looking, sullen of manner, and evidently dejected of spirit.

A sudden suspicion lit up his face as he glanced furtively into the shrubbery beyond his visitor,

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258 as though fearing other intruders. Then with his old time tricky nimbleness he described a kind of a sliding slip, and seized a short iron bar lying on the ground.

"What do you want?" he demanded, with a scowl.

"I want to have a talk with you, Ike."

"What about?"

"Your mother."

Ralph had heard back at Stanley Junction that Ike's mother had mourned her son's evil course as a judgment sent upon them because her husband sold liquor. He felt sorry for her, as Ike now shrugged his shoulders impatiently, and not a gleam of home-longing or affection followed the allusion to his mother.

"Did you come specially for that?" demanded Ike. "Because if you did, how did you know I was here?"

"I didn't—this meeting is purely accidental."

"Oh!" muttered Ike incredulously.

"I'll be plain, Slump," said Ralph, "for I see you don't welcome my company or my mission. Your father is worried to death about you, your mother is slowly pining away. If you have any manhood at all, you will go home."

"What for?" flared out Ike, savagely swinging the iron rod—"to get walloped! Worse, to

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Rh get jugged! You played me a fine trick spying into Cohen's and getting the gang in a box. I ought to just kill you, I ought!"

"Well, hear what I have to say before you begin your slaughter," said Ralph quietly. "Out of sympathy for your mother, and because your father has friends among the railroad men, I think the disposition of the railroad company is to treat you with leniency in the matter of the stolen junk, if you show you are ready to do the square thing."

"They can't prove a thing against me!" shouted Ike wrathfully. "Think I don't know how affairs stand? They can't do anything with Cohen, either, unless some one peaches—and no one will."

"Don't be too sure of that," advised Ralph. "They can lock you up, and if they delve very deep, can convict you on circumstantial evidence. But I don't want to discuss that. It's plain business, and now is your time to act. Go home, give the company a chance to get back it's property, and I'll guarantee they will deal lightly with you—this time."

"Put my head in the jaws of the lion?" derided Ike—"not much! Say, Ralph Fairbanks, what do you take me for? And what do I know about their stolen plunder?"

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260 "You drove off from Stanley Junction that night with it."

"Prove it!"

"You and your tramp friend. I was at Dover to-day. Your tramp friend sold those two horses belonging to Cohen twenty miles further on, I learned."

"Drat him!" snarled Ike viciously.

"You wasn't with him. Did he give you the slip, and leave you in the lurch? It looks so. I wouldn't hold the bag for anybody, if I were you, Ike Slump," rallied Ralph.

"See here, Fairbanks," gritted Ike between his set teeth, "you know too much, you do!"

"Now what, in the meantime, became of the stolen brass fittings? You know. Tell. Give the company a square deal, and take another chance to drop bad company and behave yourself."

"I won't go home," declared Ike, with knit, sullen brows. "You start on about your business, and leave me to mine."

"All right," said Ralph. "I'd be a friend to you if you would let me. By the way, what is your business, Slump? Ah, I see—building a raft?"

"What of it?"

"And what for?"

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Rh "Say!" cried Ike, brandishing the rod furiously and trying to intimidate his visitor with a furious demonstration, "what do you torment me for! Get out! I'm building a raft because I'm a persecuted, hunted being, driven like a rat into a hole. I want to float to safety past the towns, and go west. And I'm going to do it!"

"Why not walk?" suggested Ralph.

Ike flared a glance of dark suspicion at Ralph.

"And why such a big raft?" pursued Ralph smoothly—"no, you don't! Now then, since you've forced the issue, lie still."

Ike had suddenly sprung towards Ralph, swinging the iron rod. The latter was watching him, however. In a flash he had the bad boy disarmed, lying flat on the ground, and sat astride of him, pinioning his arms outspread at full length.

Ralph gave a sharp, clear whistle. Van came rushing down the bank in the distance in response.

Ike Slump raved like a madman. He threatened, he pleaded. He even took refuge in tears. All the time, Ralph Fairbanks was making up his mind. That partially built raft had roused his suspicions very keenly, had suggested a new line of action, and he determined to follow out the promptings of his judgment.

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262 "There's a piece of rope yonder," said Ralph, as Van approached on a run. "Get it, and help me tie this young man hand and foot."

They did the job promptly and well, Ike Slump raving worse than ever in the meanwhile.

"Now then," directed Ralph, "help me carry him to the gig. Van, this is Ike Slump, of whom you have heard a little something. He is bound he won't further the ends of justice, and I am as fully determined that at least he shall not have his liberty to frustrate them. We will load him in the gig, take him to headquarters, and you are to ask our friend there as a special favor to me to keep him safely till he hears from me."

"I won't go!" yelled the squirming Ike—"I'll have your bones for this!"

"I would advise you," said Ralph to the frantic captive, "to behave yourself. You are going where you will have good treatment. Build up, and do some thinking. I shall be as friendly to you as if you hadn't tried to brain me."

"You don't mean," said the astonished Van, "that you are going to stay behind?"

"Yes," answered Ralph, with a significant glance at Ike. "I have an idea it is my clear duty to investigate why Ike Slump built that raft."

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text: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 33

title: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 33


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263

CHAPTER XXXIV

VICTORY!

about five minutes the arrangements were completed by Ralph and Van for the transportation of their prisoner to "headquarters."

Ike Slump, tied securely, was snugly propped up in the seat beside Van. Ralph waited until he saw them safely on their way, and then went straight back to the spot where he had discovered Ike.

A cursory view of the raft had already awakened a vivid train of thought. Now, as he looked it over more particularly, Ralph found that he had grounds for suspicions of the most promising kind.

"Ike must have been at work on this for several days," decided Ralph. "I didn't think he had so much patience and constructive ability. It's big enough to carycarry [sic] a house, and of course his making it, as he says, to float himself down stream to a safe distance, is sheer nonsense."

Some large logs formed the basis of the raft. Rh

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264 Over these were nailed boards to give its bottom depth and solidity.

It was a sight of those boards that had set Ralph thinking. Such handy timber, he recognized, had no business this far from civilization. Where had they come from?

"Those two are box covers," concluded Ralph, after a close inspection, "and they are the exact size of the boxes I saw at Cohen's back room at Stanley Junction. I must find out what it does mean."

Then Ralph made a second discovery, and knew that he was distinctly on the hot trail of something of importance.

Two corners of the raft were bound with heavy brass pieces used as ornamental clamps on passenger coaches. They were stamped inside "G. N."

"Great Northern property, sure," reflected Ralph, "and of course part of the stolen plunder. That wagon load never went to or through Dover, so far as the police people have been able to find out, but I am sure it did come here, or near here, or what is Ike doing with those pieces?"

Ralph now set about tracing Ike's living quarters. They must be somewhere in the immediate vicinity.

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Rh He had little difficulty in following up a worn path across the grass. It led to a snug shake-down, under the lee of a slope roofed over with dry branches and grass.

Here Ralph found a case of canned goods, a box of crackers and a lot of tobacco and cigarette papers. On a heap of dry grass lay a wagon cushion.

Ralph circled this spot. He had to exert the ingenuity and diligence of an Indian trailer in an effort to follow the footsteps leading to and from the place in various directions. Finally he felt that his patience was about to be rewarded. For over two hundred feet the disturbed and beaten down grass showed where some object had been dragged over the ground, probably the boards used in the construction of the raft.

The trail led along the winding shore of the creek and up a continuous slope. Then abruptly it ceased, directly at the edge of a deep, verdure-choked ravine.

Ralph peered down. A gleam of red, like a wagon tongue, caught his eye. Then he made out a rounding metal rim like the tire of a wheel. He began to let himself down cautiously with the help of roots and vines. His feet finally rested on a solid box body.

An irrepressible cry of satisfaction arose from

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266 the lips of the lonely delver in the debris at the bottom of the ravine.

When Ralph clambered up again he was warm and perspiring but his eyes were bright with the influence of some stimulating discovery.

He stood still for five minutes, as if undecided just what to do, glanced at the fast-setting sun, and struck out briskly in the direction of the road leading to Dover.

It was midnight when he reached the town he had visited earlier in the same day. Ralph went straight to the police station of the place.

For about an hour he was closeted with one of the officers there whom he had met earlier on his visit in the gig. They had a spirited confidential talk.

Ralph was on railroad business now, pure and simple, for he was acting in accordance with Road Detective Matthewson's instructions and on the strength of his written authority.

"I can catch a Midland Central train west to Osego in about an hour," he planned, as he left the police station and walked towards the depot. "There's a ten-mile cut across country on foot to Springfield, and then I am headed for Stanley Junction by daylight."

Ralph boarded the train at Springfield at about six o'clock in the morning. His pass from

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Rh won him a comfortable seat in the chair car, and he had a sound, refreshing nap by the time the 10.15 rolled into Stanley Junction.

Griscom had this run, but Ralph did not make his presence known to his sturdy engineer friend. He left the train at a crossing near home, and was soon seated at the kitchen table doing ample justice to a meal hurriedly prepared for him by his delighted mother.

Almost her first solicitous inquiry was for Van.

"Van is well and happy, mother," Ralph answered. "Grateful, too. And, mother, he remembers 'the dear lady who sung the sweet songs.'"

"Ralph, do you mean," exclaimed Mrs. Fairbanks tremulously—"do you mean his mind has come back to him?"

"Yes, mother."

"Oh, God be praised!" murmured the widow, the tears of joy streaming down her beaming face, lifted in humble thankfulness to heaven.

Then Ralph hurriedly went over the details and results of his trip with Van Sherwin.

Later he spent half an hour at a careful toilet, and just as the town clock announced the noon hour Ralph walked into the law office of Jerome Black.

Mr. Black was a well-known attorney of

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268 Junction. He was an austere, highly efficient man in his line, had a good general record, and all Ralph had against him was that he was Gasper Farrington's lawyer.

It was upon this account that Ralph had decided to call upon him. All the way to the attorney's office Ralph had reflected seriously over what he would say and do.

The lawyer nodded curtly to Ralph as he came into his presence. He knew the youth by sight, knew nothing against him, and because of this had granted him an audience, supposing Ralph wanted his help in securing him work, or something of that kind.

But the leading lawyer of Stanley Junction was never so astonished in his life as now, when Ralph promptly, clearly and in a business-like manner outlined the object of his visit.

"Mr. Black," Ralph said, "I know you are the lawyer of Mr. Gasper Farrington. I also know you to have the reputation of being an exact and honorable business man. I do not know the ethics of your profession, I do not know how you will treat some information I am about to impart to you, but I feel that you will in any case treat an honest working boy, looking only for his rights, fairly and squarely."

"Why, thank you, Fairbanks," acknowledged

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Rh Black, looking very much mystified at this strange preface—"but what are you driving at?"

Then Ralph told him. He did not tell him all—there was no occasion to do so. He simply said that he could produce evidence that Gasper Farrington had treated his dead father in a most dishonorable manner, and that, further, he could produce a sworn affidavit showing that the mortgage on his mother's homestead was in reality only a deed of trust.

The lawyer's brows knitted as Ralph told his story. He could not fail to be impressed at Ralph's straightforwardness. When Ralph had concluded he said briefly:

"Fairbanks, you are an earnest, truthful boy, and I respect you for it. What you tell me is my client's personal business, not mine. But I see plainly that he must adopt some action to avoid a scandal. Your grounds seem well taken, and I am pleased that you came to me instead of making public what can do you no good, and might do Mr. Farrington considerable harm. What do you want?"

"Simply two things—they are my right. After that let Mr. Farrington leave us alone, and we will not disturb him."

"What are those two things?" inquired the lawyer.

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270 "The cancellation of the mortgage on my mother's home, and the alleged forged note upon which Mr. Farrington bases a criminal charge against one Farwell Gibson."

"Why!" exclaimed the lawyer, very much amazed. "What has Farwell Gibson got to do with this matter?"

"Mr. Black," replied Ralph, "I can not tell you that. You have my terms. Mr. Farrington is a bad man. He can make some restitution by giving me those two documents. That ends it, so far as we are concerned."

"And if he does not agree to your terms?" insinuated the lawyer.

"I shall go to some other lawyer at once, and expose him publicly," said Ralph.

Mr. Black reflected for some moments. Then he arose, took up his hat, and said:

"Remain here till I return, Fairbanks. Mr. Farrington has been sick for some days—"

"I should think he would be!" murmured Ralph, to himself.

"But this is an important matter, and can not brook delay. I will see him at once."

Ralph had to wait nearly an hour. When the lawyer returned he closed the office door and faced his visitor seriously.

"Fairbanks," he said, "I have faith in your

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Rh honor, or I would never advise my client to do as he has done. You are sure you control this matter sufficiently to prevent any further trouble being made for Mr. Farrington, or any unnecessary publicity of this affair?"

"Yes," assented Ralph pointedly—"unless I ever find out that we have any just claim to the twenty thousand dollars in railroad bonds which once belonged to my father."

"I fancy that is a dead issue," said the lawyer with a dry smile. "Very well, there are your papers."

He handed Ralph an unsealed envelope. Ralph glanced inside.

Gasper Farrington had been forced to swallow a bitter dose of humiliation and defeat.

The inclosures were the Farwell Gibson forged note, and a deed of release which gave to Ralph's mother her homestead, free and clear.

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text: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 34

title: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 34


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CHAPTER XXXV

CONCLUSION

stepped across the turntable entrance to the roundhouse at Stanley Junction just as the one o'clock whistles were blowing.

It was like coming home again. Limpy, shining up a locomotive headlight, gave a croak of welcome, jumped down from the pilot, and slapped his greasy, blackened hand into that of his young favorite with genuine fervor.

The engineers, firemen and extras in the dog house called out the usual variety of cheery chaff, but all pleasant and interested.

"This is a great place to find friends!" smiled Ralph, and then hurried his steps, for the roundhouse foreman at that moment appeared at the door of his little office.

"This way, Fairbanks," he hailed, quite eagerly. "Well," as he ushered Ralph into the grimy sanctum, "back again, I see?"

"Yes, Mr. Forgan," answered Ralph, "and glad to be here."

"What news?" Rh

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Rh "About the stolen plunder," began Ralph.

"Of course. That's the one considerable weight on my mind, just at present," acknowledged the foreman, with an anxious sigh. "We show a mortgage on our inventory, and a big railroad system don't take kindly to that sort of thing, you know."

"Very well, Mr. Forgan," said Ralph brightly, "you can change your inventory."

"What! you don't mean"

"I have found the wagon load of brass fittings," answered Ralph. "They are in safe charge at the present time, subject to your order. Here is my report to the special agent, Mr. Matthewson, and I guess, Mr. Forgan, I'm out of a job again, for I don't see anything further in sight."

"Fairbanks, you're a trump!" shouted the delighted foreman, slapping the young railroader vigorously on the shoulder. "You've saved me some uneasiness, I can tell you! That your report?" with a glance at a neatly-directed envelope Ralph had produced. "Come with me. We want to catch Matthewson before he gets away. He's going down to Springfield this afternoon—on your business, too."

"On my business?" repeated Ralph. "That sounds like a good omen."

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274 "Don't you worry about omens, my young friend!" chuckled the foreman. "You've about won your spurs, this time. How did you run across that stolen stuff, when those smart, experienced specials never got a sniff of it?"

"Quite by accident," replied Ralph. "I found Ike Slump. As near as I can figure it out, he and his tramp friend had a breakdown near Dover. The tramp appears to have got discouraged or frightened, cut away with Cohen's horses, sold them and decamped, leaving Ike in the lurch. Ike got the wagonload over into a ravine to hide it till he could raft the stuff to a distance, and dispose of it and disappear, too. I nipped his scheme just in time."

Matthewson appeared as glad to see Ralph as Forgan had been. He expressed the liveliest satisfaction at the contents of the report Ralph handed to him.

"I think this will be a final spoke in the wheel of Mr. Inspector Bardon," he said significantly. "Hope you attended to your writing and spelling in this report, Fairbanks?"

"Why so?" inquired Ralph.

"Because the president of the Great Northern is likely to see it before nightfall," announced Matthewson, with a grim chuckle.

The foreman and Ralph returned to the

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Rh house. After a while Big Denny came in, full of animation and welcome. Ralph learned that Mrs. Slump was better, but hers was a sad household. The parents had about given up ever redeeming their scapegrace son from his evil ways, and the stricken mother insisted to her husband that they would never know good luck again until he gave up selling strong drink.

With a promise to come up to his house and see little Nora, "who so prettily says her prayers for you every night," Forgan told Ralph, the foreman allowed his friend to go home late in the afternoon.

That was a quiet, happy evening at the Fairbanks homestead.

It seemed to mother and son as though after a brave, patient struggle they had reached some sublime height, from which they could look back over all difficulties overcome, and forward to golden promises for the future.

Ralph valued the friends he had made in the railroad service and also the experience he had gained.

There had been ups and downs. There was hard work ahead. But, brighter than ever, shone the clear star of ambition at the top of the ladder of the railroad career.

Ralph felt that he was in the hands of his

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276 friends, and could afford to await their exertions in his behalf.

The next day he was returning from a stroll, turning, over in his mind a plan to learn Matthewson's decision as to what, if anything, the company wanted done with Ike Slump, and to make a visit to Farwell Gibson with the joyful news that would make him a free man, when nearing home, Ralph hurried his steps at the sounds of animated conversation within the cottage.

In the cozy little parlor sat his mother, and on a stool at her feet was Van. His bright, ingenuous face was aglow with happiness, and he was chatting away to a loving, interested listener merry as a magpie.

"Hello, there, Van Sherwin!" challenged Ralph, in mock severity. "I can't have any prodigal son pushing me out of my place this way!"

"I have two boys now," said Mrs. Fairbanks, with a proud smile, as the two manly young fellows joined hands in a brotherly welcome.

"What brings you here?" was Ralph's first query.

"Slump, mainly," answered Van.

"What about him?"

"Sloped, bag and baggage—and some of Mr. Gibson's baggage to boot. He played it pretty

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Rh fine on Mr. Gibson, who allowed him more liberty than he deserved. Yes, Ike cut out last night, and we thought you ought to know about it at once."

"That's right," nodded Ralph. "However, maybe it is better he should drop out of the affair in just that way. It will save trouble and complications. He may sometime see the errors of his ways, and turn over a new leaf."

"I doubt it," dissented Van. "I think he's an all-around bad one. What about Mr. Gibson's business, if I may ask? He's terribly anxious."

"Nothing but good news," answered Ralph heartily. "Mr. Gibson is free to introduce the Dover & Springfield Short Line Railroad to the great traveling public just as soon as he likes, now."

"Bet you he'll have it running inside of a year!" predicted the exuberant Van. "Bet you in two I'm a first-class, bang-up locomotive engineer, and you're master mechanic of the road!"

"That's a far look into the future, Van," said Ralph, with an indulgent smile. "Just now, I'm getting restless for work of 'most any kind—I wish they would put me back in the roundhouse."

There was a vigorous knock at the front door of the cottage at that moment.

Mrs. Fairbanks answered the summons. She

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278 reentered the parlor holding an envelope in one hand.

"A telegram," she announced.

"For me?" questioned Ralph, as she extended it towards him.

"For you, Ralph."

It was the first telegram Ralph Fairbanks had ever received, and, his mind on a working strain already, he looked conscious and expectant as he opened it.

The telegram was dated at Springfield, the headquarters of the road.

It was signed: "James Blake, Master Mechanic."

At a glance Ralph comprehended that the mission of his friend, Matthewson, had been successful.

"The first step up the ladder!" he said, with shining eyes, to his mother and Van.

The telegram read:

"Ralph Fairbanks will report Monday morning at the roundhouse, Stanley Junction, for duty as a regularly appointed switch towerman on the Great Northern Railroad."

THE END

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text: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 35

title: Ralph of the Roundhouse/Chapter 35


text: Report of the Secretary of the Interior/1883


text:
Translation:Shulchan Aruch/Orach Chaim/455

The Law of Water that Rested Overnight

דין מים שלנו

Paragraph 1 - We only knead with water that rested [overnight], whether it is from wells and springs or from rivers. We draw the water when it is still day (close to twilight) (himself and Hagahot Maimoni chapter 5), or twilight, and we do not knead with it until the whole night has passed. One can draw [water] one day for many days [of kneading]. If it is hot, the water should be left in the cold cellar. If it is cold, it should be left outside because the cellar is hot, and one must wake up and bring it into the house before the sun rises, even on a cloudy day. Rem"a: ''If one did not bring it in upon waking but it has not been outside for long enough to heat up, there is no problem. It is better to put it under the roof, lest one forget to bring it inside upon waking (Beit Yosef in the name of the Orhot Hayim). When one transports the water outside, one should cover it (Trumat Hadeshen chapter 115 in the name of the Sma"g and the Sma"k and the Mahari"k). When Passover falls on Sunday, one should draw water on the eve of the 13th [of Nissan], which is Thursday night (Mordechai at the end of the first chapter of Pesahim). A priori, one should draw from rivers and not from wells (Oshr"i and Mordechai), but when the rivers are big from snowfalls and rainfalls, it is better to draw from wells (Mahar"i Weil). Do not spill water that rested because of a death or the solstice (Mordechai chapter Kol Sha'ah and Hagahot Maimoni chapter 5), and a priori it is good to put metal in it. It is also forbidden to use water drawn by a non-Jew for matzo used to fulfill the mitzvah. Even water used for other matzo should be drawn by a Jew if possible (Mordechai and Mahar"i Brin and Mahari"l). The practice is to use designated water for the matzo used to fulfill the mitzvah. The practice is to use new ceramic containers [to store the water], and this should not be changed, but one need not worry about wooden containers (Kol Bo).''

סעיף א - אין לשין אלא במים שלנו, בין שהם מי בורות ומעינות בין שהם מי נהרות. ושואבין אותם מבעוד יום (סמוך לבין השמשות) (דברי עצמו והגהות מימוני פרק ה'), או בין השמשות, ואין לשין בהן עד שיעבר הלילה כלה. ויכולים לשאב יום אחד לימים הרבה. ואם הזמן חם יניחם במרתף שהוא קר, ואם הזמן קר, יניחם באויר כי המרתף הוא חם, וצריך להשכים ולהכניסם לבית קדם שיזרח השמש ואפלו ביום המענן. הגה: ''ואם לא הכניסם בהשכמה, אם לא עמדו כל כך עד שהוחמו, אינו מזיק. ויותר טוב להעמידם תחת התקרה, שמא ישכח להכניסם בהשכמה (בית יוסף בשם אורחות חיים). וכשמוליך המים תחת אויר הרקיע, יש לכסותן (תרומת הדשן סימן קט"ו בשם סמ"ג וסמ"ק ומהרי"ק). כשחל פסח באחד בשבת, יש לשאב המים אור שלשה עשר, דהינו בליל חמישי (מרדכי סוף פרק קמא דפסחים). ולכתחלה יש לשאב מן הנהרות ולא מן הבארות (אשר"י ומרדכי), אבל כשהנהרות גדולות מהפשרת שלגים וגשמים, טוב יותר לשאב מן הבארות (מהר"י וייל). ואין לשפך מים שלנו מכח מת או תקופה הנופלת (מרדכי פרק כל שעה והגהות מיימוני פרק ה'), ומכל מקום טוב לכתחלה להשים בהם ברזל. גם אסור לשאב מים על ידי אינו יהדוי למצות של מצוה, ואף לשאר מצות ישאב ישראל אם אפשר (מרדכי ומהר"י ברי"ן ומהרי"ל). ונוהגין לטל מים מיחדים למצה של מצוה. ונוהגין לקח כלי חרס חדשים, ואין לשנות המנהג, אבל בשל עץ אין להקפיד (כל בו).''

Paragraph 2 - There are some who say that water from a cistern can be used to knead immediately after being drawn, but one should not be lenient on this matter except for in an emergency.

סעיף ב - יש אומרים שמים המכנסין בסיסטירנ"ה מתר ללוש בהם סמוך לשאיבתן, ואין להקל בדבר אם לא בשעת הדחק.

Paragraph 3 - One should not knead with hot water, even if it was only heated by the sun, nor from water taken from a big boiler with a wide rim that is suspended over a fire and the water in it is room temperature, even if there is no fire underneath. And if one transgressed and kneaded either with these or with water that did not rest, [the resulting dough] is forbidden. There are those who disagree and permit water that did not rest, and there are those who permit when it was done by mistake. In an emergency, rely on them. Rem"a: Even with no emergency, one should be lenient with someone who used water that did not rest by mistake (Rabbeinu Yerucham and Beit Yosef).

סעיף ג - אין ללוש במים חמין אפלו לא נתחממו אלא בחמה, ולא במים הגרופים מדוד גדול שנחשתו עבה ותלוי על מקום האש ומים שבתוכו פושרים, אפלו כשאין האש תחתיו, ואם עבר ולש בין באלו בין במים שלא לנו, אסור. ויש חולקין ומתירין בלש במים שלא לנו, ויש אומרים דבשוגג מתר, ובשעת הדחק יש לסמך עליהם. הגה: ואפלו בלא דחק יש להתיר אם עבר בשוגג ולש במים שלא לנו (רבינו ירוחם ובית יוסף).

Paragraph 4 - We knead with water that did not rest but was nullified by twice its amount in water that did rest.

סעיף ד - מים שלא לנו שנתבטלו חד בתרי במים שלנו, לשין בהם.

Paragraph 5 - There is a practice not to put salt in matzo, and this is right. (Even after the fact, this is forbidden) (Mordechai and himself).

סעיף ה - נוהגין שלא לתן מלח במצה, ונכון הדבר. (ואפלו בדיעבד יש לאסר) (מרדכי ודברי עצמו).

Paragraph 6 - If one kneaded [the flour] with carraway, sesame, or spices, it is kosher, because it has the taste of matzo. In any event, one should not use spices, because they are sharp and heat the dough. Rem"a: Regarding peppers, [dough] is even forbidden after the fact. The same is true if plaster fell in (Mahar"i Bruna).

סעיף ו - לש המצה בקצח ושמשמין ובמיני תבלין, כשרה, כיון שיש בה טעם מצה. ומכל מקום אין לתן בה תבלין, לפי שהוא חד ומחמם העסה. הגה: ופלפלין, אפלו בדיעבד אסור, וכן אם נפל בה סיד (מהר"י ברונא).

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 The whole building will be of brick, burned clay, and metal, and be fire-proof throughout.

The expenditures to this time for work and for material, of which a large quantity is on hand, has been $176,970.14 for construction of building, and a contract has been made for heating apparatus much under the appropriation, and this work is now in course of erection, the steam and return pipes being inserted in the flues provided for them and carried up as the walls themselves rise.

There remains available on the construction of the building $223,- 129.86; for construction of heating apparatus, $39,480.55.

PATENTS.

The report of the Commissioner of Patents shows increased activity in that Bureau during the past fiscal year.

Number of applications for patents received. . . . 32,845 Number of applications for design patents received. . . . 1,039 Number of applications for reissue patents received. . . . 247 Number of applications for registration of trade-marks. . . . 854 Number of applications for registration of labels. . . . 749 Total. . . . 35, 734 Number of caveats filed. . . . 2,688 Number of patents granted, including reissues and designs. . . . 21,185 Number of trade-marks registered. . . . 883 Number of labels registered. . . . 618 Total. . . . 22,686 Number of patents withheld for non-payment of final fees. . . . 2,056 Number of patents expired. . . . 7,471

RECEIPTS AND EXPENDITURES.

Receipts from all sources. . . . $1,095,884 70 Expenditures (not including printing). . . . 704,348 45 Surplus. . . . 391,536 25

COMPARATIVE STATEMENT SHOWING THE INCREASE IN THE WORK.

Number of applications for patents, including reissues, designs, trade-marks, and labels, received—

During the fiscal year ending June 30, 1881. . . . 24,906 During the fiscal year ending June 30, 1882. . . . 30,062 During the fiscal year ending June 30, 1883. . . . 35,734 Increase 1883 over 1881. . . . 10,828 Increase 1883 over 1832. . . . 5,672

Number of applications awaiting action on the part of the office on— July 1, 1882. . . . 3,387 July 1, 1883. . . . 4,699 Increase, 39 per cent., or. . . . 1,312


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 not succeed among a people fond of war, by any other means, but by giving them a minor for their king, who was by the law of the land under her direction, as the country was, during his minority, under her regency.

this, the ordinary state of the empress's politics, had hitherto answered well between the kingdoms, when no other parties were engaged, the introduction of a third power, and its influence, totally changed that system. The Turks, an enemy not yet known in any formidable line by the southern part of Africa, or Asia, now appeared under a form that made all those southern Hates tremble.

, emperor of Constantinople, had defeated Canso el Gauri, Soldan of Egypt, and slain him in the field. After a second battle he had taken Cairo, the capital of that country; and, under the specious pretence of a violation of the law of nations, by Tomum Bey, the successor, who was said to have put his ambassadors to death, he had hanged that prince upon one of the principal gates of his own capital; and, by this execution, had totally destroyed the succession of the Mamalukes. Sinan Basha, the great general and minister of Selim, in a very few months over-ran all the peninsula of Arabia, to the verge of the Indian Ocean.

people, trained to war, Mahomet had inspired with enthusiasm, and led them to the conquest of the East. Trade and luxury had, after that, disarmed and reduced them to much the fame situation as, in a former age, they had been found by Augustus Caesar. Sinan Basha, with a troop of veterans, had, by degrees extirpated the native princes of the country; those that refilled, by force; and those that


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 The semi-annual interest which matured July 1, 1883, is included under the heading "Interest paid by the United States."

The Commissioner reports the total indebtedness of the several subsidized Pacific railroads to the United States on June 30, 1883, to be as follows:

TOTAL DEBT.

Union Pacific (including Kansas Pacific): Principal. . . . $33,539,512 00 Accrued interest. . . . 31,087,183 50

Central Pacific (including Western Pacific): Principal. . . . 27,855,680 00 Accrued interest. . . . 25,120,804 21

Sioux City and Pacific: Principal. . . . 1,628,320 00 Accrued interest. . . . 1,464,297 49

Central Branch Union Pacific: Principal. . . . 1,600,000 00 Accrued interest. . . . 1,549,808 26

Total. . . . 123,845, 605 46

TOTAL CREDIT.

Transportation services performed and money paid into the Treasury: Union Pacific. . . . $13,535,040 05 Central Pacific. . . . 7,653,813 07 Sioux City and Pacific. . . . 121,355 39 Central Branch Union Pacific. . . . 159,084 01

Total. . . . 21,469,292 52 Balance in favor of the United States, but not due until maturity of the principal (1895-'99). . . . 102,376,312 94 CONDITION OF THE SINKING-FUND ACCOUNTS.

The Commissioner gives a detailed statement showing the condition of the sinking funds of the Union and Central Pacific companies, held by the Treasurer of the United States under the act of Congress approved May 7, 1878, from which it will be seen that on June 30, 1883, these funds amounted to $4,036,713.45; the Central Pacific having to its credit $2,404,015.86, and the Union Pacific $1,632,697.59. Investments have been made by the Secretary of the Treasury as follows:


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