Front matter (continued 2)

"I believe He did," said McBryan.

"I suppose you believe that Christ authorized the sale of the papacy at auction by Benedict IX. Well, I don't believe it."

"It don't make any difference to Catholics what damn Protestants think of their pope."

"Mr. McBryan, I have no objections to your believing in the infallibility of the popes if you want to. The Klan does not object to any religious belief. It stands for the worship of God according to the dictates of conscience, and will protect Catholics as well as Protestants in such worship. What the Klan does oppose, and what every American should oppose, is the exercise of civil power by the Church. Whenever any church, Catholic or Protestant, attempts to gain control of the affairs of state they will find solid opposition from the Klan. One of the principles of this organization is the separation of church and state."

"I would oppose even the Baptist church's doing that," said Wilson.

"Catholics don't believe in the church controlling the state," said McBryan.

"I hope not, but the history of the Catholic church is largely the history of a church directly controlling, or dominating, civil powers; and when such powers have been wrested from it, struggling to regain them.

"The time was when the Catholic church controlled the political affairs of all Europe. In 754 Pippin, king of the Franks, recognized the temporal authority of the pope. In 774 Charlemagne confirmed this power and enlarged the dominion of the pope. For many years contentions between the church and the rulers of Europe were common. France, under Philip the Fair, was the first power to successfully resist papal authority. The rise of Protestantism under Luther caused the pope to lose fully one-half of Europe. This power was never regained. After the treaty of Westphalia in 1648 conditions were brought about that made a rapid decline of the pope's temporal power.

"Napoleon III was forced to withdraw the French troops from Italy during the Franco-German war, Victor Emmanuel took advantage of this circumstance and on September 20, 1870, entered Rome and took possession of the palace. The pope was stripped of all direct temporal power. His influence in church matters was in no wise interfered with. Since then he has exercised much indirect political power."

"I am not in favor of the pope's exercising temporal power, and Catholics as a whole are not in favor of it. You see we only believe in the infallibility of the pope in religious matters," said McBryan.

"Well, if it is true that the Roman Catholics are not in favor of the pope's exercising temporal power certainly they should not object to the Klan's insisting on the continued separation of church and state. And while there may be some Catholics like yourself who would oppose the re-establishment of the direct temporal control of the pope, there are many who would welcome it and assist in bringing it about."

"You are mistaken. You see that we don't believe in the pope's infallibility in political affairs."

"While it is true that your church teaches that the pope is infallible only in spiritual matters, yet Catholics believe in his right and ability to rule in temporal affairs."

"How do you know they do?"

"Cardinal Manning, in his debate with Robert Ingersoll, declared, 'The greatest statesmen and rulers that the world has ever seen are the popes of Rome.' Cardinal Gibbons, in his book, 'The Faith of Our Fathers,' in the chapter headed 'Temporal Power of the Popes,' says:

"'The Papacy,' they say, 'is gone. Its glory vanished. Its sun is set. It is sunk below the horizon never to rise again.' Illboding prophet, will you never profit by the lessons of history? Have not numbers of popes before Pius IX been forcibly ejected from their See, and have they not been reinstated in their temporal authority? What has happened so often before may and will happen again.

"For our part we have every confidence that ere long the clouds which now overshadow the civil throne of the pope will be removed by the breath of a righteous God, and that his temporal power will be re-established on a more permanent basis than ever."

"Well, I guess everybody has a right to his own opinion," said McBryan.

"Yes, freedom of speech and freedom of the press is another of the Klan principles," replied Reverend Benton, as he rose from his chair. "If you will give me my insurance policy, Mr. Wilson, I will go."

"The premium is nine dollars and forty cents," Wilson stated, as he handed the policy to the minister.

"Will it be all right to let that go until the first of the month? I am short of funds now."

"Yes, that's all right, but I didn't know that preachers ever got short," remarked the real estate and insurance agent, laughing.

When Reverend Benton had gone out Wilson turned to McBryan. "I will appreciate it if you will give Harold King a chance at the city building, he is a fine fellow."

"He has already spoken to us, and we have asked him to submit a perspective drawing. There are several other applicants."

"He's a fine young fellow and a home man, and I'd like very much to see him get it."

"He'll be given careful consideration," McBryan replied. "Other things being equal, I would prefer to hire a home man."

Chapter IX

The door between Ruth's office and the president's office was slightly ajar. She could hear the suppressed voices of Stover and another man. She caught a sentence that caused her to leave her desk and tiptoe to the door. She stood with her ear near the opening.

Ruth had a high sense of honor. She would have been the last one to eavesdrop through idle curiosity. The sentence which she caught convinced her the conversation taking place on the other side of the door concerned her indirectly, if not directly, and she felt warranted in listening.

She listened with bated breath while the color left her cheeks. She opened and shut her hands nervously.

When the conversation ceased and Stover's caller left she sat down to her desk and wrote a note. She looked at her watch; it was almost quitting time. She stepped to the president's office. "Is there anything more tonight?"

"No, Ruth, nothing more tonight. You may go if you wish to."

She went back into her room, tore up the lengthy note that she had written and wrote a very brief one. After she had placed this in an envelope and addressed it, she put on her hat and went out on the street.

She had walked but a short way from the bank when she met a small boy. "Say, boy, will you deliver this note for me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She gave him a dime and he hurried away on his errand.

Harold King had seen but little of Ruth in the last two weeks. He had been busy getting up a perspective and plans to submit to the mayor and commissioners. He had seen Ruth a couple of times lately in ice cream parlors with Golter. That afternoon Harold had submitted his drawing and plans. Now that he had submitted them he wondered if anything would come of it. The architect's fee would be fifteen thousand dollars for this city job. If he could just land that his financial embarrassment would be relieved and he would be sufficiently advertised to get other good jobs. He had been three years in Wilford Springs, and had barely made a living. There had been many expensive buildings erected since he came, but out-of-town architects had been employed. Sometimes he had been discouraged and felt a desire to seek a new location, but his friend, Charles Wilson, would always tell him at such times: "Stay with it and things will come your way; just keep a stiff upper lip. When you get a job, no matter how little it is, do your best and some day the big jobs will be running after you." Harold was inclined to question this philosophy, but nevertheless it encouraged him somewhat.

Ruth Babcock had had a large place in his thoughts since he had met her two years before. He admired her and was sure if he would allow himself to he would love her—but what right did he have to allow himself to fall in love with a girl when he couldn't properly provide for his own needs!

He had felt bitter pangs of jealousy when he had seen Ruth with Golter. He didn't blame her for accepting the attentions of someone who had an income sufficient to take her out in public and properly entertain her, one who had a right to entertain thoughts of love and matrimony—but he didn't like this man Golter and wished that she would not keep company with him. Golter was a snob and in no sense a man that appealed to men, but deep down in his heart Harold knew that he would be unhappy to see Ruth escorted by any man. If he wasn't so poverty stricken he wouldn't stand back for anyone. His best suit was hardly decent to appear in at social affairs. He would not, in his present condition, embarrass Ruth by asking her to accompany him any place, but maybe fortune would soon smile on him. If he landed the city job and the fifteen thousand dollars, things would be different. His reverie was interrupted by a small boy who entered the office and asked, "This Mr. King?"

"Yes."

"Here's a letter for you. A young lady sent it to you."

"Was she good looking?" asked Harold, smiling.

"You bet yer life. She's a peach."

"Well, I'm interested. What do I owe you?"

"How'd a dime be?"

"All right." Harold tossed him the coin.

As he was going out the door he stopped and looked back. "Say, mister, the girl had done give me one dime, but I thought you'd want to go fifty-fifty with her." He hurried down the stairway without waiting for a reply.

As Harold tore the letter open he thought, "That boy may land in the penitentiary, but his chances to escape the poor house are good. However, I am inclined to believe I would be willing to go fifty-fifty with Ruth in a life partnership, but the one great obstacle is I can't furnish my fifty."

The letter was brief but interesting:

Dear Mr. King:

I would like to have a talk with you. If it will not greatly inconvenience you I would be pleased to have you call at my home this evening.

Yours truly, Ruth Babcock.

"There is nothing to do but to go, if I do have to wear the old suit," he thought. He tried to conjecture what it could be that she wanted to talk to him about. Maybe she had some suggestion to help him secure the city job. Her employer, Jim Stover, was regarded as the political boss of the town and whatever he said went with the city officials. He was quite sure Ruth was going to make a suggestion to help him to secure Stover's assistance. Wilson had already talked with Stover in his interest but had not secured a definite answer.

That evening Harold got out his best suit and brushed it thoroughly. It was badly worn. When he had dressed he viewed himself in the mirror. "Harold, old boy," he said to himself, "there is no mistaking the fact you are run-down, you look seedy. You need a new casing but will have to make out with the old one for awhile."

As Harold walked down the street to the car line he met Golter. Harold noticed his well groomed appearance. When they spoke, the supercilious smirk on Golter's face nettled Harold.

"Come in, Mr. King. Let me have your hat. Ruth ran over to a neighbor's. She said if you called before she returned to tell you that she would be back in a few minutes."

"How are you, Mr. Babcock? I believe you are looking better."

"If I could only get over having this pain in my head. Sometimes I do not have it for two or three days and then it will come back and I suffer terribly. I worry lots, Mr. King, because I can't remember my business affairs before I was hurt."

"It may come to you some time."

"I hope so. Not long ago in my dream I remembered the rest of the safe combination."

"Are you sure that was really your safe combination?"

"Yes, positive of it. I had remembered all but the last number before the dream."

"Did you remember anything else besides the combination?"

"Yes, I dreamed that I showed the combination to a man in whom I had confidence and that he stole the money."

"Whose money was in the safe, Mr. Babcock?"

"My money."

"Are you sure you had money?"

"Yes, I have always remembered that."

"You say you dreamed that you showed the combination to a man in whom you had confidence?"

"Yes, I trusted him. The dream was very real."

"Can you remember anything about this man's appearance or what his business was or his connection with you?"

"No, I have been trying for days to remember who he was but have not been able to."

At this juncture Ruth came in and the subject was dropped. Soon after, the door opened and Clara Babcock started to enter, but seeing there was company present, hesitated.

"Come on in, Aunt Clara," said Ruth.

The four visited together for a time. When Ruth's father and aunt had left the room Ruth asked, "Were you surprised to get my note?"

"Yes, I was somewhat surprised," he replied.

"I first wrote you what I wanted to tell you but afterwards decided that I could tell you better; so I tore up the letter I had written you and wrote the note asking you to come."

"I was pleased to come, and if I can be of any service to you I will only be too glad to help you."

"Harold," she spoke in a low, soft voice, "I did not ask you to come here because I needed your help."

He felt a little twinge of disappointment. He would like to have her look to him for help and be able to help her. The only time he had attempted to help her he had failed.

"I asked you to come because I wanted to help you."

His pride was hurt. He thought she was beginning to pity him. Pity is not relished by a strong, self-respecting man. He became conscious of his run-down condition. He would not have been much surprised if she had offered to loan him money to buy a new suit of clothes. He wished he was away.

"You know," she continued, "I think that friends should always guard the interests of each other and, Harold, if I should need advice or assistance I do not know of anyone, outside of my father, whom I would rather trust than you." He felt better.

"I hope I may always be worthy of your confidence," he said.

"What I have to say concerns you directly, and it concerns me because you are my friend. I know that I can trust you not to tell the source of your information."

"Certainly you can."

"This afternoon I was seated in my office with the door slightly ajar. There was someone in the president's office talking with Mr. Stover. I am not sure who the man was, but from the quality of his voice I believe it was McBryan. I heard this man say 'Harold King is one of them.' I moved close to the door that I might hear better. Mr. Stover asked, 'Are you sure of that?'"

"What did he say?"

"He said, 'Yes, I am positive. We have a man who is a member of the Klan, who gave us this information.'"

"Did he say who it was?"

"No, the man to whom Stover talked——"

"I'm sure that it was McBryan," said Harold, interrupting her.

"This man said, 'we'll fix this young upstart.'" Harold clenched his teeth and hands. He felt the muscles of his arms tighten. "Mr. Stover said, 'let's give him one chance.' 'What do you propose?' the other asked. I could not hear what Mr. Stover said as he dropped his voice to a whisper."

"What else did they say?"

"That was all I heard except the man said, 'I'll keep you informed.'"

"You are sure he said that he got his information from a member of the Klan?"

"Yes, positive."

"So they are going to fix the 'young upstart,' are they?"

"Mr. Stover did not say that; it was the other man who said it. Mr. Stover said, 'Let's give him another chance.'"

"I thank you, Ruth, for this information."

"Harold," she said, laying her hand gently on his arm, "I hope you can prove that you are not a member of this organization."

"Didn't you say the principles were all right?"

"Yes, but so many claim that a lawless element belongs."

"Ruth, you know that hatred and prejudice will cause people to make bitter accusations which they cannot prove and which have no basis in fact. Enrolled as members of the Klan are ministers, lawyers, judges, congressmen, governors. Do you believe that officers who have taken an oath to support the government and enforce its laws and who have always been law-abiding citizens would become and remain members of an outlaw organization? I tell you, Ruth, the Klan is composed of many of the best citizens and its purpose is to uphold and enforce law—not to violate it."

"I suppose that is true, but somehow I can't help but hope you do not belong and that if necessary you can prove that you do not. I hardly know, after what you have told me about the Klan, why I should feel this way unless it is because I am your friend and interested in you and do not want you to do anything that will injure your chances for success in the business world or subject you to worry and persecution."

"I appreciate your consideration for me, but, Ruth, if the issues are as vital as I believe they are and the United States needs an organization of this character to protect our American institutions and our Christian civilization would you want me to refuse my support for fear of personal consequences?" As he asked this question, his gray eyes looked straight into her brown ones.

"Excuse me a moment," she said and left the room. She soon returned with two portraits. "This," she said, handing him one of the pictures, "is a portrait of Colonel Jameson, a Virginian, who was an officer in the Confederate army, and a member of the old Ku Klux Klan. He was my mother's father; and this is a picture of Major Babcock of General Sherman's staff, who was my father's father. Both of these men fought at the risk of their lives and at the sacrifice of personal interests for principles they believed to be right. On both sides of the house ancestors fought in the wars of 1812 and the Revolution. My family had a part in making this nation. Not only did the men of the Jameson and Babcock families fight, but the women folk sent them forth to battle in the spirit of love and sacrifice. The blood of these ancestors are in my veins. If the institutions and laws of our country and the sacred principles of Americanism are imperiled I ask you to do your duty courageously as becomes the man that I know you are." They were standing now, and as she made this speech he met her steady gaze unflinchingly. He slipped his arm about her and for a moment neither spoke. There are moments when speech is inadequate.

The following morning at the breakfast table in the Babcock home Mr. Babcock remarked, "You know that the more I see of that Mr. King the more favorably I am impressed with him. He strikes me as a man who has good stuff in him."

"Looks to me like he's kind of run-down at the heel—as mother used to say," said Aunt Clara. "He sure isn't prosperous looking like that Mr. Golter. In this day and age it's mighty essential that a man have money or a good income when he gets married or his wife can't have a place of any consequence in society."

Ruth blushed but made no reply. Her father noticed her embarrassment and said, "Ruth, money has its place in life, but character is the big thing."

Chapter X

"Come right in, Harold. Glad to see you." Judge Rider greeted his friend warmly.

"Judge, I ran up to talk to you a few minutes, if you are not busy."

"Sit down, Harold. I am not too busy to talk with you. Anything of importance?"

"Yes, Judge, there is. Something very important. There's a leak. Somebody is giving out inside Klan information."

"Is that so? What has been given out?"

"Someone told Stover that I am a member and that they would fix me. Stover suggested that I be given one chance. I don't know what that chance is to be nor how Stover's informant meant to fix me."

"Do you know who Stover's informant was?" Judge Rider asked.

"Not positively. I am of the opinion that it was McBryan."

"How did you get your information?"

"I am not at liberty to tell you that, Judge. It would be betraying a confidence."

"By all means don't tell it, then, but are you sure that it is correct?"

"Yes, there is no question about the truthfulness of the report."

"You say that this man whom you think is McBryan said that they would fix you?"

"Yes."

"He was going to get you because you are a Klansman?"

"He told Stover that I was a Klansman and that they would fix me, and naturally the inference is that being a Klansman is the reason for the desire to fix me."

"Was that all that was said?"

"Stover's informant said that he was sure of his information as they have a man on the inside!"

"What! A man on the inside!" The judge sprang to his feet.

"Yes, and when he parted from Stover he said, 'I will keep you informed.'"

"We must look after this at once. It is serious. Just keep it as quiet as possible and we will undertake an investigation. As this is the first leak we have heard of, it is quite likely that the traitor is someone who has recently been taken in."

It was the middle of the afternoon of the same day that this conversation took place that Harold received a 'phone call from the Wilford Central State Bank requesting him to call there for a few minutes. When he arrived he was told by the teller that the president wished to see him in the office. When he entered Stover shook hands with him and asked him to be seated. The door was open into Ruth's office and she had seen Harold enter. Stover stepped to this door and closed it. Ruth was writing on the typewriter.

"Mr. King," said the banker, "I had the teller 'phone you to come down because I wished to have a little private conversation with you. You know, Mr. King, I have been keeping my eye on you since you designed Simpson's cottage. That is an artistic and well arranged home. I said when I looked through that house that you had ability. I have been expecting ever since to see some big building constructed that you had designed, but I have been disappointed. Of course I recognize that a man in your profession needs more than ability—he needs some influential friends."

"One must have the ability if he makes good, but I realize the value of influential friends," Harold remarked.

"Yes, you must have them if you get on in this world, especially if you are short on capital. I think that you realize, Mr. King, that I have influence with the city administration."

"I am sure that you have."

"Yes, what I say usually goes. Now, Mr. King, I would like to see you get the contract to do the architectural work for the new city building."

Ruth, writing on the typewriter in the other room, heard the sound of the men's voices. She was anxious for Harold. She wondered if Mr. Stover was going to give him the chance today. If so, she hoped the terms would be such that he would accept. She did not want to hear, and pounded unusually hard on the typewriter.

"I thank you, Mr. Stover. To be sure I want the job."

"I have already talked to the mayor and commissioners in your interest."

"I certainly appreciate it."

"I thought you would. If there is anything that gives me pleasure it is to help a young man get a start. I'm a self-made man, Mr. King. I started to work in a bank at thirty-five dollars a month. It took me a long time to get a start. If I had had a few influential friends to back me I might have established myself ten years sooner than I did. Whenever I think of those long years of hard struggle I make a new resolution to help some young fellow to get a start. Harold, I have helped lots of them along the road to success. What I am going to say to you is in the spirit of a father to a son." (He placed his hand on Harold's shoulder and smiled on him affectionately.) "I want to give you a little advice."

"I am willing to hear it."

"The city officials like your perspective drawing, but they say that you have had very little practical experience."

"I have not had a great deal of experience since I opened an office of my own, but before coming here I was employed in an architect's office and worked on drawings for expensive buildings. I drew up most of the plans and specifications for one building that cost a million dollars."

"Understand, I am not doubting your ability, but the mayor and commissioners must be convinced or influenced. I am quite sure I can overcome this objection without any trouble, but there is a more serious matter."

"What is it?"

"They know that you are a Ku Kluxer." The banker had partially turned his face from Harold as he made this statement but gave him a side glance for the purpose of noting the effect and was disappointed that Harold did not appear surprised or alarmed.

"How do they know that?" he asked with apparent unconcern.

"It doesn't make any difference how they found out. The fact is they know it."

"If it be true, what has that to do with this architectural work?"

"It may not have anything to do with doing the work, but it has a lot to do with getting the job. You see they don't want to give this fine job to a man who is identified with an organization that is so highly objectionable."

"You are personally opposed to the Klan?"

"Yes, very much. You see, I am going to advise you the same as I would if you were my son."

"What are your objections to the Klan?"

"They are many; but one of the principal ones is that they hide behind masks. If they want an organization let them take off those masks and come out in the open. It's cowardly for men to hide behind masks, besides there are too many of them who take advantage of their concealed identity to get out and whip somebody."

"You are mistaken, Mr. Stover, the members of the Klan are not permitted to wear their masks except in the lodge or Klan meetings for the purpose of doing guard duty or putting on ritualistic work, when doing deeds of charity or in peaceful parades."

"Well, if they want to put themselves right before the public let them publish a list of their members."

"That would destroy the value of the organization as a law enforcement body. How would it do, Mr. Stover, for the secret service men of the government to publish their names when they come into a community and let everyone know just who they are?"

"We don't need the Klan to enforce the laws. We have officers for that purpose. The Klan has no right to take the law into its own hands."

"The Klan does not take the law into its own hands. The Klan assists the officers in enforcing the law by furnishing evidence. If the officers refuse to act it is the purpose of the Klan to have them recalled or voted out at the election and others put in who will act. It is the duty of all good citizens to help enforce the laws."

"Our officers enforce the laws—we don't need the Klan."

"Our officers enforce the laws in Wilford Springs against the uninfluential violator, but fellows like Hennesy are permitted to operate."

"Well, young man, you had better not line up with a bunch who are in disfavor with the public. The last election showed what the people of Wilford Springs thinks of your Klan organization. Now to get down to business. It's of a great deal of importance to you that you get this city building job. If you will follow my suggestions I will get it for you. You know that, don't you?" Ruth had finished her typewriting and the men were speaking so loudly that she could not help but hear now.

"I have every reason to believe that you can."

"Very well." The banker began to rub his hands together. "What I have to propose is this, you withdraw from the Klan and make a public statement that you have done so because it is a lawless organization, and I will see that you get the city job."

"Would you have me make this statement in spite of the fact that all I personally know of the Klan is to the contrary?"

"Well, you have read of enough outrages being committed by the Klan other places that you could conscientiously make that statement even though you do not have personal knowledge of law violations by Klansmen."

A fifteen thousand dollar job was at stake. He wanted it as he had never desired anything before, but his virtue never wavered. In a flash he remembered the parting admonition of his mountain mother when he left the mountain home to make a place for himself in the world. She had said, "Son, when you are sorely tempted to do wrong say, like your Master, 'Get thee behind me Satan.'" He also remembered his obligation as a Klansman.

He sprang to his feet and towered like a Hercules over Stover who sat at the table rubbing his hands nervously. "Stover," he said, "if you think for a minute that you can bribe me with a fifteen thousand dollar job to betray the best interests of my country and community and violate my sacred obligation as a Klansman you have another think coming. I tell you and you can repeat it to your henchmen that you can take the job with which you have attempted to bribe me and go straight to hell with it." King turned on his heels and left the room. When he had finished this speech Ruth clasped her hands together in joyful admiration and exclaimed, "Good, good!"

Chapter XI

Ruth was proud that her friend, Harold King, had courageously turned his back on the proposition that would have meant the prostitution of his manhood. She was not altogether happy—it is always a great shock to discover a lack of principle in one in whom you have had great confidence. Ruth had regarded Stover not only as a friend but as a man of exceptional honor. To say that the discovery that he would try to bribe a man to do a dishonorable thing shocked her, is to put it mildly.

When she next saw Harold she said, "I tried not to hear your conversation with Mr. Stover, but you both got to talking so loudly that I could not help it. Harold, I am certainly proud of you."

"I would have liked to have had the job but not at the price they asked. I will get along some way. If I can't make a living as an architect I can go to work on the railroad section."

"I have faith that you will succeed as an architect, but I would much prefer to have a friend of mine an honorable section hand than a dishonorable architect, no matter how successful he might be in his profession."

"Ruth," he said, "it is good to have a friend like you. You are different from so many girls who think so much of display and veneer. You think more of the things that are really worth while."

"I feel that I do not deserve all that, Harold. My father deserves a great deal of credit for whatever views of life I have that enable me to appraise people by a better standard than bank accounts, automobiles, clothes, painted faces, and dance steps. He has always laid great stress on the value of character. Often I have heard him say, 'The real gold of life is not to be found in mines or at the end of the rainbow but in hearts that are true to friends and loyal to the best interests of life.'"

"That is certainly a noble sentiment. How is your father?"

"I don't see much change in him. He worries so much because he can't remember the man who stole his money. Ever since he had that dream he really believes that some man in whom he had confidence and to whom he had shown the combination of the safe really robbed him. (Of course it is only a delusion.) His bank stock, the only property he had except the home, was turned over to satisfy his debts."

"Ruth, in whom did your father have a great deal of confidence?"

"Do you mean in a business way? Well, there were a number of men in Zala for whose honesty and ability he had great respect. Of the men out of town with whom he had business relations, I believe he trusted Mr. Stover more than any other."

"Ruth, who was the cashier of the bank in which your father was president?"

"His name is Dick Watson."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know. He left Wilford Springs when Mr. Stover bought my father's interest, and I have not heard of him since."

"Do you suppose that it is possible that Watson defrauded your father?"

"No, my father's account at the bank tallied with his personal pass book. His bank stock was sold to Mr. Stover, as you know."

"What did Watson do with his stock?"

"He owned only a small amount of stock, and it also was purchased by Mr. Stover."

"What kind of a looking fellow is this man, Watson?"

"He is fairly good looking."

Harold laughed. "When you ask a girl about a man's looks she answers: 'Handsome, good looking, fairly good looking, homely, ugly or ugly as a mud fence.'"

"That's because we think so much of looks, I presume," she said, laughing, "or it may be because we are so limited in descriptive powers, but since you do not like my general statement I will try to be a little more specific. He is about five feet nine or ten inches in height, has light brown hair and dark blue eyes, his nose is rather prominent, when he smiles he displays a row of exceedingly white, even teeth. Is that sufficient?"

"Very good. I believe you will be able to develop your descriptive powers."

"Why should I?"

"Well you may want to write novels some day."

"If I do I will have you for one of the characters. You will be my hero."

"I see that you will not succeed as a novelist."

"Why?"

"You have already shown sufficiently poor judgment in selecting a character to condemn you as a novelist; however, you might succeed as descriptive writer. I will test you a little farther. Did the man Watson have any peculiarities?"

"Nothing that I remember, except he lisped slightly."

"Speaking of descriptions," he remarked, "there is a scene that I would like to have descriptive power to describe."

They were walking through the City's Natural Park and had come suddenly upon a little lake surrounded by wooded hills. It was the first of October, and nature's artist had tinted the foliage a rich golden hue. Two couples in row boats were rowing along the shaded side of the lake while shimmering light was reflected from the opposite side. The deep green of the grass which bordered the lake, the gold of the tree foliage, the blue of the sky above and the passing clouds mirrored in the water blended in a harmonious picture that no lover of beauty could fail to admire.

"Isn't it beautiful!" Ruth exclaimed.

"Yes, as Riley says, 'A picture that no painter has the colorin' to mock.'"

They walked on down a winding road, through the woods and around the hills. Ruth began humming, "There's a long, long trail a winding into the land of my dreams."

"That song has a lot of truth in it," he remarked. "The road is often a long one, and the night seems so long while waiting."

"Yes, but the song also expresses the pleasure that many enjoy while pursuing the dreams and traveling with 'you.' It depends a lot on who the 'you' is."

It was a pleasant October afternoon and there were many people riding and strolling through the park. Harold was thankful that it was cool enough for him to wear his light overcoat.

A car honked behind them and they stepped out of the road. Golter drove past. He lifted his hat and spoke very distantly. Ruth had declined an invitation to go riding with him that afternoon.

"Your special friend," Harold remarked.

"Don't put too much emphasis on the special if you would be exact in your expression," she replied.

As they were leaving the park they met two young ladies.

"Why, Ruth, for the land sakes! I haven't seen you for a coon's age."

"Mable, I certainly am glad to see you! What are you doing here?"

"I am visiting my cousin. Miss Babcock, my cousin, Miss Welty."

"And allow me to introduce my friend, Mr. King."

After the formal recognitions of the introductions, Ruth said, "Mable, I haven't seen you since you moved to the capital."

"No. This is the first time I have been any place."

Mable Finch and Ruth had been friends at Zala. Soon after Ruth came to Wilford Springs, Mable had moved with her parents to the state capital.

"How are your folk?"

"They are well. Father sticks right to business. Mother and I tried to get him to go to the Shriners' convention this summer, but he thinks that the business wouldn't run if he were away."

"Is your father still in the hotel business?"

"Yes; you couldn't get him to do anything else. He is planning to build the largest and finest hotel in the city."

"Will he build soon?"

"Yes, he expects to consider plans at once."

Harold and Miss Welty had walked a short distance away to look at a petrified tree that had recently been donated to the park and were out of hearing.

"That's a swell looking beau you are with," said Mable.

"He is a splendid fellow and a very dear friend."

"He certainly looks good."

"Mable, I want you to visit me while you are here."

"I wish I could, but it will be impossible. I just ran down for the week-end with my cousin, but I'll tell you what I want you to do. Will you do it?"

"Well," said Ruth, "it will depend just a little on what it is."

Both girls giggled.

"I want you to go home with me for a visit. This week we are to have our fall musical festival."

"I am going to surprise you by accepting the invitation. That is, provided I can get off at the bank where I work."

Harold and Mable's cousin now rejoined them and the four left the park with the crowd that was now homeward bound.

Chapter XII

A group of white robed figures were gathered on the summit of White Eagle mound. A great fiery cross was visible for many miles. Many of the citizens of Wilford Springs who had recently read in The Journal that the Klan was dead beheld with amazement the fiery emblem—got into their cars and drove along the road near the mound that they might get a close-up view of the cross and if possible gain some idea of the number of Klansmen who were assembled. The reports that circulated on the street the following day varied greatly, the numbers ranging from five hundred to a thousand.

It was an important meeting and a large per cent of the members of Wilford Springs Klan (which now actually numbered eight hundred) were present, together with a few visiting Klansmen from neighboring Klans.

It was an impressive sight for the occupants of the cars on the road when the white robed figures on the mound kneeled in a circle around the fiery cross. The Reverend Benton led the prayer. The minister, clad in the white robe which symbolizes purity, kneeling there beneath the star-lit heavens in the flickering light of the fiery cross (that signal for gathering and emblem of militant Christianity) poured out his soul in earnest supplication to Him, the all wise and loving Father:

"Lord, we bow before Thee in humble recognition of Thy power and goodness. We thank Thee, as citizens of a great republic, for the blessings and opportunities that Thou hast granted us. We thank Thee for our country; for our churches; our homes; our free schools; and our pure womanhood.

"Dear Heavenly Father, we thank Thee above all else that Thou didst send Thy Son Jesus Christ into the world 'to give life and to give it more abundantly.'

"Lord, help us to stand courageously for our country, its institutions and laws. Teach us our duty to our fellow man. Lead us into larger fields of usefulness and in the great conflict of righteousness against sin may we be dedicated to Thy cause in body, in mind, in spirit and in life.

"All wise Judge, as we are called upon to pass judgement on our fellow man, may Thy spirit of love prevail, and in our decisions may we be guided by Thine unerring judgment.

"Lord, we pray Thee to bless this group of men and the homes of our community. We humbly beseech Thee to be with us as we pray together in the language which the Christ who died for us taught us to pray:

"Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil; for Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen."

As the seven hundred men on the mound united their voices in the Lord's prayer the people in the cars heard and many were filled with awe and wonder. Many who had honestly believed that the Klan was an organization of undesirables were astonished.

Mr. Henry Agnew, a Catholic, who was an exemplary citizen and highly respected, remarked to his wife when the "amen" had been pronounced, "Mary, my suspicions and fears that the Ku Kluxers are a menace to the community is considerably lessened since seeing that large body of men kneel in prayer."

The prayer concluded, all stood. Judge Rider, the exalted Cyclops, said: "Klansmen, we have an important matter to come before the Klan tonight. You will each be called on to render an important decision and I ask you to listen attentively to the proceedings and render your verdict according to the evidence. Klaliff, you have some important matters to present."

"I have, Your Excellency."

"You may present the matter to the Klan."

"The Kladd will present Klansman Tom Glynn at the Exalted Cyclops station."

When the Kladd brought Glynn before the Exalted Cyclops, King, the Klaliff, said: "Klansmen, some time ago it became known to your Klaliff that the identity of Klansmen was being made known to men not Klansmen. The matter was reported promptly to your Exalted Cyclops. A secret investigation was made, and the movements of a number of Klansmen were closely observed. Klansman Glynn was seen to go directly to a room after a number of Klan meetings and confer with Pat McBryan. Will Klansmen Sam Bronson and Ned Fields come forward?" The two Klansmen came forward and testified to Glynn's conferences with McBryan. "The next morning after these conferences McBryan and other men were known to be in possession of information of inside affairs of the Klan.

"One day when slips were passed to Klansmen giving some valuable information a photographer succeeded in taking a very interesting snapshot. I will ask a number of Klansmen to look at the picture and write on a slip of paper what you see without conferring with each other." Six Klansmen who were designated for this purpose examined the picture carefully and then wrote their observations. Four of them stated that the two men in the picture were Glynn and McBryan and that they were consulting a Klan information slip. The other two stated that one of the men was Glynn, that they did not know the other man and that they were looking at the Klan information slip which Glynn held in his hand. The Klaliff read these reports and then said: "Your Excellency, that is all the evidence we have to offer."

"Klansman Glynn, do you wish to offer a defense or make a statement?" the Exalted Cyclops asked.

"I have nothing to say except that I gave the information."

"Why did you do this?" the Exalted Cyclops asked.

"I did it to help the Holy Catholic Church."

"Are you a Catholic?"

"I was raised a Catholic. I do not now consider myself a Catholic, but I believe in The Holy Roman Church and am glad to serve her."

"Glynn, who asked you to do this?"

"I refuse to answer."

"Klansmen, you have heard the charge and the evidence and Klansman Glynn's confession of guilt. What say you, shall Tom Glynn be expelled from this organization?"

The vote was unanimous for expulsion.

"Tom Glynn," said Cyclops Judge Rider, "you were received into this organization in good faith. You pretended to act in good faith. You took a sacred and solemn obligation to support the principles that all Klansmen are obligated to support. On the open Bible and before God you promised loyalty to Klansmen and the organization. You have confessed to violating that oath and give as a reason that you did it to assist the Catholic Church.

"It must be a strange religious conscience that will permit one to hypocritically take the obligations of a patriotic and benevolent organization for the purpose of assisting the church of his choice. The information you furnished was of value only to law violators and designing politicians, and could not possibly be of any value to a church that has no other motives than to spread the religion of Jesus Christ.

"You are now clad in the white robe of a Klansman. This robe was made white to represent purity of thought and actions, which it is the purpose of the Klan to promote. You, Tom Glynn, have disgraced this robe by your act of perfidy. You will take it off."

Glynn removed the robe and handed it to the Exalted Cyclops.

"No true Klansman would want to wear this robe that has been disgraced by you, consequently I consign it to the flames." A Klansman applied a lighted torch and no one spoke as the robe was being consumed by the flames. When it had been reduced to ashes, the Judge continued. "As the robe which you might have worn in honor has vanished so your relationship to this organization has ceased.

"If perchance in the future you behold upon some hill the fiery cross may it say to you, 'That they who worship God must worship Him in spirit and in truth.'

"Guards, you will escort the expelled member to the public road."

So Tom Glynn was conducted out of the presence of the seven hundred Klansmen and was no longer a member of the Invisible Empire.

Chapter XIII

As the fall election drew near when county and state officers were to be elected, a tremendous effort was being made by all opposing factions to defeat those candidates that the Klan was said to favor. The wildest stories were circulated as to outrages having been committed by the Klan. The fear of the negroes was again played upon.

Rastus Jones was airing some of the church troubles of the Union Avenue Baptist Church in the Wilford State Bank one morning and the bank force who had time to listen were greatly interested in his recital.

"You sees it wa' jest like this. I's elected deacon and so's that rascally niggah, Sam Jenkins. I se's I ain't gwine to act as no deacon if that low down niggah is goin' to be deacon. It's not in accordance wid my exalted opinion of the dignities an duties of the impo'tant and splendiferous office of chu'ch deacon."

"I guess that's right, Rastus," remarked the bank teller.

"Yes, sah; dat is right. Well, when we'd been instituted in ouh offices——"

"You mean installed, don't you?" Ruth asked.

"Yes'm, dat's it, installed. The fust Sunday we 'ficiated aftah de duties and sponsibilities had become incumbent upon us dat impudent niggah looks at me and says, 'Rastus, do you presume that you has the qualifications requisite to serve as deacon?' It was lucky for that niggah that I didn't have my razzer with me. I jumps up befo' the entire boad of deacons and says, 'I moves that Sam Jenkins is disqualified to occupy the high and exalted position of deacon of The Union Avenue African Church.' Maybe you don't tink that brought on a battle. About half took sides wif me and tothah half wid Sam. Dar ware some langwage bein' used what wouldn't sound good in a pulpit when the Reverend George Washington Bascom entered and ast what all de argument was about. Well, Sam splained and I splained; but Sam splained moah than I did, an the Reverend George Washington Bascom decided that Sam could remain a deacon. I'd done said that I ain't gwine to serve with no sech a low down niggah so I takes my hat and walks out, and I ain't gwine to pay no moah of my ha'd earned money to a prechah what ain't got no mo' discriminatin and amplyfien powah than to side in with sech a wuthless niggah. I'se done stopped payin' and I reckons the Reverend is gwine to miss my thuty cents what I'se been takin' evah Sunday."

"You better watch out," warned the cashier. "The Ku Kluxers may visit you."

"Ain't nobody gwine to scah me with no Ku Klux talk. If I'se some if these niggahs what's a shootin' craps and liftin' othah people's chickens of' de roosts I might be scahed, but I'se a Christian, I is, and I jest like to know why the Kluxer would botheh me."

"They might get you for going back on the preacher."

"He done went back on me and de best interests of the chu'ch when he saved that onry low-down niggah from my just wrath and indignation."

"The Klan may not look at it that way," said Ruth.

"Go on, you all ain't gwine to scah me with no Ku Klux talk, you ain't."

The bank clerks continued their work and Rastus busied himself about the bank. Several times during the morning his questions about the Ku Klux Klan showed a grave apprehension.

"Rastus," said Stover, "I think you had better mop this evening after banking hours."

"Yes, sah; I'll mop it tonight. I'se janitah at one of the school buildings and have to do the work there right aftah fo' o'clock."

"Well, I don't care when you do it just so you get it done," Stover replied.

That evening after dinner at the Babcock home Ruth announced that she was going back to the bank.

"I'm sorry that they want you to come to the bank and work at night," said her father.

"This work that I am going to do tonight is a little work I want to do for myself. Mr. Stover did not tell me to do it."

"I hope you will not be out late."

Before going, Ruth went to her room and secured a pillow slip and a sheet; in the pillow slip she cut eyes and a mouth vent for breathing. She wrapped the pillow slip and sheet in a paper which she carried under her arm.

When she reached the bank she locked herself in her office and waited for the arrival of the janitor.

It was eight-thirty when he came. Ruth could hear him talking frequently to himself as he worked. Once she heard him say, "Who's afeared of them Kluxers, anyway. I'm mighty shuah I ain't."

Ruth put on her robe and mask and viewed herself in the mirror. She suppressed a laugh. When she heard Rastus emptying the water she went out of the door that opened directly into the corridor and waited behind the elevator cage which was standing at the bottom of the shaft.

Soon Rastus came out and when near the elevator Ruth stepped from behind it.

Rastus threw up both his hands and exclaimed, "Lawd, Lawd!" and began to back off. The white robed figure wearing a white mask slowly followed him. One arm under the robe was lifted toward him. He was sure the Klansman had a revolver in his hand, as he backed away from the approaching figure he said, "Please don't shoot me, I ain't done nothin', Mistah Ku Klux—honest to Gawd, I ain't."

"You have refused to support your pastor." The white robed figure spoke in a sepulchral voice.

"I'se only missed payin' one Sunday and that's a fact. If you will let me go this time I'll pay evah Sunday."

"You may have one more chance. Now face the wall and don't look around until you have counted three hundred. My final warning to you is beware, beware, beware!"

The negro, as directed, faced the wall and began to count. Ruth removed her robe and mask as she passed through the outer entrance to the corridor and hastened to the street intersection where she caught a car.

The next morning it was ten o'clock before Rastus made his appearance at the bank.

"Rastus, you are a little late," said Stover.

"Yes, sah, Mr. Stover, I'se late. I had a terrible sperience last night that's kinda made me feel flober-gasted."

"What was the trouble, Rastus?" asked Stover.

"I was visited by the Ku Klux Klan."

"What, are you telling the truth?" Stover asked with interest.

The bank employees all left their work and gathered around Rastus.

"Honest to Gawd, I'se tellin' the truf. I'd jest finished moppin' and sta'ted home, when out from behind the elevator stepped one of them Ku Kluxers."

"Did he have a mask on?" someone asked.

"Yes, sah; he had a mask on."

"Was there just one?" the cashier asked.

"Jest one in the hall, but I heard a lot of 'em outside the doah."

"What did the Klansman say to you?"

"He said I hadn't been payin' our preachah. I spec dat skunk of a Sam Jenkins done set 'em on me."

"What did they do?"

"This big spook done say he give me one moah chance."

"Why didn't you grab him and lift his mask?" Golter asked.

"He was too big and powahful."

"How big was he?" asked Ruth.

"He must have been seben feet tall."

"You thought he was too big for you to grapple with?"

"Yas, ma'am, he was too big—besides he threatened me with a gun."

"Are you sure he had a gun?" she asked.

"Yes'm, I'se shuah. I didn't see the gun itsef. He kept it covered with his robe, but he shuah nuf pointed it at me."

"This is no more than I have been expecting," Mr. Stover remarked, and the clerks resumed their work.

All day at irregular intervals Ruth shook with suppressed laughter. That evening when she reached home and saw a copy of the Journal she gave full vent to her mirth. Springer had made the most capital possible out of the incident. This was a consequence that Ruth had not foreseen. When she saw the article she was thoroughly amused at the exaggerated garbled report of it, but after reflecting on the article she regretted that she had staged the affair. She had never once thought of the incident's being used to the detriment of the Klan. She re-read the article:

KU KLUX KLAN MOB NEGRO His Life Threatened

"The very thing that was to be expected of the Ku Klux Klan has come to pass in Wilford Springs. Last night about 9 p.m. a dozen or more members of the Ku Klux Klan went to the main entrance of the Central State Bank of Wilford. One of their number, wearing a robe and mask, entered the corridor and waited for Rastus Jones, the janitor of the bank, who was doing some work on the inside. When he had finished his work and was walking through the corridor leaving the building a man in a white robe and wearing a mask suddenly stepped from behind the elevator and forced Mr. Jones into a corner at the point of a revolver. The Klansman threatened the life of Mr. Jones if he did not agree to do something that was contrary to the dictates of his conscience. The white robed and hooded ruffian then flourished the gun in the face of Mr. Jones and warned him that he would be given only the one chance. Mr. Jones was then forced to face the wall and was told to count to three hundred before looking around. When he had counted the required number and reached the street, the Klansmen were gone. The robed Klansman is described as a very large man with an exceedingly heavy voice.

"It seems that Mr. Jones had had a little trouble with another colored man, and he is of the opinion that this man secured the assistance of the Klan. This seems plausible as Mr. Jones is a highly respected colored man, honest and industrious. This hooded organization has been known before to act as an agent to punish someone through personal spite.

"The Klan movement in Wilford Springs has been discouraged by the best citizens of the community. The organization here at present is small and, as it is elsewhere, composed of the derelicts of society, together with a few foolish individuals who are easily influenced to part with their money to enrich Klan promoters, not knowing the real nature of the organization.

"This incident should arouse all good citizens to do their utmost to oppose the Klan."

Saturday evening when the employees of the bank were receiving their pay Rastus Jones said to the cashier, "I wants some change fo' my chu'ch envelope tomorrow."

"I thought you had quit paying to the church."

"I done quit but I'se gwine to sta't to payin' agin. I don't believe a Christian should quit payin' the preachah jest 'cause he don't like all the preachah does. I wants the change so's I can get sixty cents out of it fer my envelope."

"All right, here you are, but I thought you said that you only gave thirty cents."

"Yas, sar, dat's all I gives regular, but I didn't pay las' Sunday, so I'se gwine to make up fer it this time."

The following Sunday evening the Reverend George Washington Bascom discussed "The Questions of the Day." The Union Avenue African Church was well filled. Many of the members of this church were among the best colored people of the town, but of course the Union Avenue Church also had its share of the other kind.

The major portion of Reverend Bascom's address was devoted to the coming election. He discussed the issues of the campaign and then he aroused tremendous interest when he said:

"They tell us that the Ku Klux Klan is a factor in this campaign. They told us in the city election that if we did not line up for certain candidates that the Klan would get so strong here that no negro would be safe in the pursuit of his happiness. Now if there is any nigger here whose pursuit of happiness leads him to the chicken coop of his neighbor he ought not to be safe in that pursuit."

("Dat's right, dat's right," came from a number of his auditors.) "Now they are trying to scare us with that bogey man, the Klan."

"Now the Klan may go out and do unlawful things and then again it may not." ("I know it does," came from the pew where Rastus Jones was seated. "Amen," shouted Sam Jenkins.) "As I was a saying, the Klan may sometimes whip a nigger and then again it may be some folks who have no connection with the Klan, but if the Klan does do it I want to tell you that it isn't any more than some of you rascally niggers need."

("Amen, amen; dat's right, dat's right," came from various parts of the house.)

The Reverend Bascom ceased to speak. His mouth dropped open, his eyes, fixed on the door in the rear of the room, protruded from his head.

The congregation turned and looked to see if their minister had suddenly seen a ghost. There in the doorway, clad in white, his face concealed by a mask, stood a Klansman. Some of the women screamed. The man in white started down the aisle, and other white robed and masked figures entered, and as fifteen or twenty of them pressed down the aisles the greatest excitement prevailed. "Lawd have mercy on us!" some of the women ejaculated. One or two negroes crawled under benches and one man, of whom it was reported that he had been paying too much attention to another man's wife, jumped through a window and never quit running until he reached the woods a mile and a half from town.

As the white robed figures neared the front of the room the pastor clutched the pulpit with both hands. Rastus Jones, who was seated on a front seat, called out, "Mistah Kluxers, I'se done paid up my chu'ch dues. You kin ast de treasurer."

When the two Klansmen in front halted in front of the pastor one spoke in a clear voice that could be distinctly heard all over the room: "Reverend Bascom, the Wilford Springs Klan has heard of your good work as pastor of this church. (The preacher breathed easier.) The Klan is ready to help you and back you up in every good work. Here is an envelope containing an expression of good will from our organization."

The spokesman handed the envelope to the minister who, with trembling hands, tore it open. It contained three hundred dollars and a note which read: "Fifty dollars of this money is a personal gift to the Reverend Bascom and the remaining two hundred and fifty dollars is a gift to the church to be applied on the church indebtedness."

Whatever fear that the pastor had entertained up to this moment now vanished. A broad grin overspread his black face.

"Members of the Ku Klux Klan," he said, "in behalf of myself and this congregation I thank you for this gift. I wish your organization success in its efforts to uphold the laws and promote good citizenship. Again I thank you."

The Klansmen then left the room in silence. After the last one was out the pastor read the note just received and a chorus of hallelujahs followed.

"Hallelujah! That's right, brethren," said the Reverend Bascom, "I believe it would be a fine thing to close this meeting with a hallelujah song." And they did and sang it with a will.

Chapter XIV

"What are we going to do, mother?" asked little ten-year-old Grace Armstrong. Mrs. Armstrong wiped away a tear and answered, "I don't know what, but I think God will help us find a way."

Mrs. Armstrong was a widow; her husband had died three years before and left her with three small children. When the doctor bills and funeral expenses were paid there was very little of the thousand dollars of insurance left, and she found herself confronted with the problem of earning a living and caring for the three small children. She went heroically to work taking in washing and succeeded fairly well until one of the children became ill and, after a lingering illness of four months, died. During the time of the illness of the child Mrs. Armstrong's earnings were considerably decreased, as a great portion of her time and energy must be given to the nursing of the little invalid.

Doctor bills and funeral expenses and decreased earnings were responsible for the piling up of considerable debts.

Grace was the oldest of the children, and the mother often talked things over with her as she had no older person with whom to counsel.

This question was occasioned by a letter which notified Mrs. Armstrong that unless the house rent were paid by the first of the next month she must move out.

"We might find another house, although vacant houses are scarce, but everybody would want a month's rent in advance. We have only three dollars in the house, and we must keep that to buy bread. You know I had to give up two of the family washings during little Jimmy's sickness, and I have only been able to get one in place of them. I'll go down to the bank and explain to Mr. Stover why I haven't paid the rent."

"Do you think if you explain it to him he will let us stay?"

"Yes, I think so. You peel the potatoes for dinner while I finish this washing, and then after dinner I'll go see him."

That afternoon Mrs. Armstrong called at the Central State Bank and asked for the president. She was informed that he was busy. "Would she wait?"

She sat down on the bench and watched the people coming and going; some to deposit and others to draw out. Some with large sacks bearing many coins, others with only a few dollars to add to their accounts. She had neither money to deposit nor money to withdraw. She noticed the large stacks of money behind barred windows and thought of the inequalities of life, and wondered not a little why it should be so.

After a wait of half an hour she was informed that Mr. Stover could see her. It was with a great deal of trepidation that she entered the president's office.

"I am Mrs. Armstrong," she explained. "I have come to talk with you about the rent."

"Yes, let's see, I sent you a notice, didn't I?"

"Yes, you told me to pay by the first or get out. I thought if I explained to you why I was behind with the rent you might let me stay, and I will pay."

He opened his desk and took out a large book and turned to his list of tenants. He owned ten business houses and fifty residences which he rented. "I find," he said, "that you will be three months behind the first of next month."

"I am very sorry that I am so much behind. My little boy was ill so long that I couldn't earn much and then there were the funeral expenses."

"I am very sorry, Mrs. Armstrong. I would like to let you remain in the house regardless of whether you could pay any rent or not if I consulted my feelings alone," the banker rubbed his hands together and smiled benignly, "but the fact is, Mrs. Armstrong, that if I get fifteen dollars a month, which is the amount you have been paying, after paying taxes and paying for the upkeep of the property, I am losing money. I would like to give you the free use of this house if I could afford to do so, but I simply can't afford to let you have it any cheaper, as I am now renting it to you at less than cost, if I figure any interest on my investment."

"I am not asking you to rent it any cheaper. All I am asking is that you give me a little more time to catch up. I will pay you every cent I owe you if you will just give me time. It's pretty slow work catching up when you have a family to support and no way to make money except by taking in washing."

"I am very sorry, Mrs. Armstrong, but really believe that for your own interest you should get a cheaper house. I really feel that I am advising you for your own benefit when I tell you that if you find that you can't raise the back rent I will have to insist on your vacating. Good afternoon, Mrs. Armstrong. I am always glad to advise you. When you wish to consult me, feel free to call." He bowed her out.

She must try to find another house, as there was no possibility of her earning the amount of money necessary to pay the back rent by the first of the month.

She went to Charles Wilson's office to inquire about a house. The fat real estate man was so jovial and at the same time so sympathetic that (though she had intended to tell him only of her inability to pay but a part of the month's rent in advance, in case she could find a house) she told him of her financial difficulties and of the notice from Stover to vacate.

"You say that Stover told you that you must pay up by the first of the month or vacate?"

"Yes, he said that he would like to let me have the free use of the house if he could afford it, but he could not afford it as he was losing money on it at fifteen dollars. To be sure I do not want the free use of his house or any house. All I want is a little time until I can catch up."

"Did he say he was losing money on that house you are living in?"

"Yes, he said he was if he figured any interest on the capital invested."

"Well, you know Stover is used to figuring a pretty high rate of interest on the money he has invested. Let's see, are there three or four rooms in that house?"

"Three."

"It isn't modern, is it?"

"No."

"I didn't think the water had been put in on that street."

"The closest city water is on Sixteenth Street, three blocks away."

"Mrs. Armstrong, I have a little three-room house listed here on Maple Street—a much better residence district than where you are living. I can rent you this house for twelve dollars a month and it is modern."

"That will be fine."

"If I were you I wouldn't wait until the first of the month to take this house, as it will not stand vacant long at that price."

"I want it but I can't raise even half of a month's rent before the first of the month."

"If you want the house, that part can be arranged all right."

"Thank you. I certainly want it and I will move right away. I intend to pay Mr. Stover just as soon as I can."

"Klansmen, you have all read of the alleged Klansmen who threatened the life of the negro, Rastus Jones. We know that they were not Klansmen." (Judge Rider, the Exalted Cyclops, spoke with earnestness.) "True Klansmen do not take the law into their own hands. The man who does, not only violates his oath as a Klansman but acts contrary to the purpose and spirit of our organization. If it is proven that any member of this organization takes part in an affair such as was narrated in the Journal (you can't believe half that's in the Journal, someone interposed) he can expect to leave this Klan as Tom Glynn left it. I would like to see how many of you endorse this sentiment."

He paused while they voted their approval. The vote was unanimous. "I feel confident that no one who has taken the sacred and binding obligation of a Klansman took part in that affair, yet it is going to hurt the organization. Let me remind each of you that the mask is only to be worn in regular Klan ceremonies, when in peaceful parades and when doing charitable deeds. It may be that occasionally some misinformed, or misguided Klansman may think it his duty to check some unlawful act by the commission of some other unlawful act. We cannot expect three million men all to keep implicitly the rules of the organization. Breaches of the peace are sometimes committed by soldiers in the army, by members of fraternal orders and churches. Even Peter denied his Master thrice, and there was a Judas among the twelve. But you who are strong must help to strengthen the weak, and when you see a brother acting in a manner unworthy of a Klansman remind him of his obligation.

"Fortunately, selected as our members are from the best citizens of the community, we have a right to expect only a small amount of misconduct."

When Judge Rider had finished his talk, he asked if there were anything to bring before the Klan.

"I have a matter to present," said Charles Wilson. "There is a widow in this town whose family is in need." He then told them how Mrs. Armstrong had been left a widow without means, how she had labored to support her children; of the death of her little boy; and that she had gotten behind and could not pay her rent and unless it was paid up in full, Stover had ordered her out of the house.

"What do you wish to do in this matter?" the Exalted Cyclops asked.

A Klansman moved that a special collection be taken for the relief of Mrs. Armstrong and her children.

When the collection was taken Judge Rider remarked: "Klansmen, we can do no better work than this. I believe it was the Apostle James who said: 'Pure religion and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.'"

Mrs. Armstrong had risen early to get an early start at the washing. The children were asleep. She liked to let them sleep as long as possible of a morning. She hoped to get an extra washing during the week as she would have the added expense of moving.

There was a knock at the door. Who could her early caller be, she wondered. She slipped a clean apron on over her dress and hurried to the door, but not until the impatient visitor had knocked the second time.

When she reached the door she found a stranger there waiting. Another man whom she did not know was waiting in a car in the street.

"Is this Mrs. Armstrong?" the man at the door asked.

"Yes, I am Mrs. Armstrong."

"Here is an envelope that I was requested to hand you." He gave her a large envelope and without another word hurried to the car. Mrs. Armstrong, wondering at his brevity and haste, watched them drive out of sight around the corner before she opened the envelope which he had handed her. Imagine her surprise when she found that it contained bills. She looked at it carefully—yes it was real money. There was some mistake. They must have been mistaken in the address where they were to take the envelope. She counted the money. There was two hundred dollars. "If this money were really mine," she thought, "how much it would help me. Sixty or seventy dollars would pay all my debts, and I could go right to town and buy some school clothes for the children, which they are needing so badly." She happened to look into the envelope and saw a piece of paper on which was written in a large bold hand:

"The Wilford Springs Ku Klux Klan commends you for keeping your children in the public schools and Sunday School and for all your efforts to raise them to become good citizens. In appreciation of your services to your family and community we send you a little gift which we trust will be accepted in the same spirit in which it is sent.

"Wilford Springs Ku Klux Klan."

"Thank the Lord for the Klan!" exclaimed Mrs. Armstrong and then hurried to call the children that they might share the joy with her.

When the morning meal was over and the washing on the line she went down to the Central State Bank and asked for Mr. Stover. The bank president was surprised when she told him that she had come to settle the back rent. When he saw her he supposed of course that she had come to beg for more time. When she said, "I have come to settle with you," he could scarcely believe his ears.

"Are you ready to pay all?" he asked.

"Yes. I will settle with you and move out tomorrow."

"If you settle, Mrs. Armstrong," he said, smiling, "you don't need to move out."

"I want to move out. I have found a modern three-roomed house for twelve dollars a month."

"There must be something wrong if you get a modern, three-roomed house for twelve dollars. You had better be careful. It must be in an undesirable locality, and you know, Mrs. Armstrong, you can't afford to take your children into an undesirable neighborhood."

"This house is on Maple Street."

"There must be something wrong."

"I am going to move out of your house tomorrow. I owe you for two and a half months."

"You owe for three months. When you remain in a house you owe for the entire month."

"Very well, Mr. Stover. Here is your money. I was visited this morning by a stranger who gave me an envelope containing two hundred dollars—a gift from the Wilford Springs Ku Klux Klan."

Stover's countenance fell when he received this information.

"That's a very bad organization," he said gravely. "Didn't you read in the paper how they mistreated my janitor?"

"I don't know anything about what they did to your janitor, but I do know they helped me and that I am thankful," she said, smiling.

That afternoon Stover rented his residence which Mrs. Armstrong was to vacate the next day and secured a month's rent in advance. He did not deduct to the new tenant the half month's rent the widow had paid, neither did he give it back to her. He was at a loss to know why within a week from this time two hundred thousand dollars were withdrawn by depositors.

Mrs. Armstrong went directly from the bank to the home of the Reverend Earl Benton.

"Reverend Benton," she said, "I have heard that you are a member of the Ku Klux Klan."

"I am," he replied. "I do not hesitate to let the public know that I am a member of this great organization, as my work for the organization is in the lecture field, but if the membership as a whole would permit their identity to become known it would destroy in a large measure the efficiency of the organization. Nothing would please law violators better than to know the identity of these men who are assisting officers as special detectives."

"What I wanted, Reverend Benton, is to ask you to thank the Wilford Springs Klan for the wonderful present they sent me. Tell them I certainly appreciate it. It came at a time when I was in dire need."

The day following the gift of the two hundred dollars to Mrs. Armstrong, Willard Jackson, who owned a large clothing store and was considered one of the most conservative men in town, met Springer, the editor of the Journal.

"Say, Jackson," said Springer, "wasn't that incident that happened the other night a disgrace to our city?"

"To what affair do you refer?"

"The mobbing of that negro by members of the Ku Klux Klan."

"If the facts were as stated in your paper it was an incident to be regretted, and if the Klan is responsible for it, it is to be condemned."

"There's no question about the facts as reported in the Journal, and no question but what it was done by the Kluxers."

"Did they say they were Kluxers?" Mr. Jackson asked.

"No; they didn't say so, but the one who threatened the negro with the gun wore the Ku Klux robe and mask."

"Springer, I do not consider that any proof at all. Anyone could have put on a white robe and mask."

"Well, when the Klan insists on wearing those masks they should be willing to take the blame for all damage done by masked parties. If they are not directly responsible for all the depredations committed by masked ruffians they should take the blame for wearing the masks."

"Did you ever stop to think that there were more whippings and applications of tar and feathers by masked men before the Klan came into existence than there has been since? Reverend Benton stated in his lecture that it is the purpose of the Klan to prevent lynchings."

"That's not true," said Springer, getting excited. "The Klan practices lynching and encourages mob violence."

"I noticed in the Eagle that the Klan gave the Union Avenue Colored Church a two hundred fifty dollar donation to apply on the church debt and the pastor a donation of fifty dollars, but I never saw any mention of it in your paper."

"I heard something about it, but it was not officially reported to me. It is the policy of the Journal not to print rumors. We only print news from reliable sources."

"I heard today that the Klan gave the Widow Armstrong a donation of two hundred dollars. Now if that is true, it sounds mighty good to me. I don't belong to the Klan or know much about it, but I am in favor of giving everybody a square deal."

"The Klan never gave anybody anything. If the Widow Armstrong got a donation it is safe to say it wasn't from the Klan. The gifts to charity that are reputed to be from the Klan are not from the Klan at all."

"Who gives them, then?"

"The organizer does it for advertising purposes."

"I shouldn't think that he could afford to make so many gifts."

"This Klan business is a great money-making scheme. You see the organizer makes ten dollars on every member he secures."

"How much does it cost to get into this organization?" Jackson asked.

"Twenty-five dollars," the newspaper man replied.

"That's news to me."

"I can tell you something else that perhaps you do not know. The Klan oath is in direct violation of the Constitution of the United States. The Klan members are obligated to support the Klan regardless of how the interests of the Klan may clash with the government of the United States."

"How do you know, Springer, did you ever take this oath?"

"No."

"Did you ever see it?"

"No."

"How do you know, then?"

"I am in the newspaper business, and I have ways of getting information that the ordinary person does not have," declared Springer with an air and tone of great importance.

Two Klansmen, standing near, heard this conversation. Each one had contributed to the funds for the colored Baptist Church and the Widow Armstrong donations; they had each paid only ten dollars initiation fee and knew that the organizer received only a small part of that; they had each taken the solemn obligation of a Klansman binding himself to support to the full extent of his ability the Constitution of the United States. As they moved away one remarked, "Springer is certainly a malicious liar or an ignoramus."

"'Verily, he hath his reward,'" the other remarked.

"Pray tell me what it is."

"I have heard that Aesop once said that there is a compensation for everything. A friend said, 'You are wrong! What compensation hath the fool?'

"Aesop replied, 'The fool has the joy of being wise in his own conceit.' If Aesop is correct, Springer should experience a great deal of joy."

The two men laughed heartily.

Chapter XV

Harold King was walking in the clouds. He had received a letter from J.C. Welty asking him to come to the capital at once. He stated that he was going to build a large hotel, work to begin as soon as the plans were drawn, and that King had been recommended to him as an architect.

Harold decided that in order to make the right kind of impression he must have some new clothes, consequently he waived his objections to going in debt for clothes and that evening visited Jackson's clothing store where he was fitted out.

He had made the drawings and drawn up most of the specifications for a big hotel when he was an employee in an architect's office, and these he now got together. It was fortunate he had saved them. This done he called Ruth over the 'phone and secured her permission to call in the evening.

About three o'clock in the afternoon Golter entered Ruth's office. "Miss Ruth," he said, "don't you want to take a ride?" Ruth had declined many invitations to ride with Golter and refused many requests to call.

"I would prefer riding to pounding this typewriter this time in the afternoon, but the chances are I will have to continue to pound it until four o'clock."

"I am going to Zala and thought you might enjoy going along for the ride."

"I would like to go to Zala. I haven't been there for so long. When are you going to start?"

"Right away."

"I wouldn't want to ask to quit work early."

"I'll ask Uncle Jim for you, if you will go."

"I don't want to go if Mr. Stover needs me."

Golter stepped into the president's office and soon returned with the information that Uncle Jim said that she could go as soon as she finished the letter she was writing.

"How long will you be gone?" she asked.

"Oh, we should be back by six or six-thirty. You know it is only twenty-four miles from here to Zala, and it will only take a few minutes to attend to the business."

Ruth called her aunt and told her that she was going with Mr. Golter to Zala.

On the way going he asked, "What do you think of the Ku Klux Klan by this time?"

She replied, "It seems to be doing some good."

"Perhaps a little good but much more harm."

"How do you know that it's doing harm?"

"I know by what I read. Besides you can't expect anything but trouble from the class of people that belong."

"What do you know about the class of people who belong?" she asked.

"They are mostly crooks and ne'er-do-wells like that fellow King, who goes around with his coat frayed at the cuff."

"Mr. King has more to him than a whole lot of fellows who are better dressed; but how do you know who belongs?"

"You see that that class of people have little principle and many of them give away their membership."

"I don't believe it," she said with spirit. "I think that there are unprincipled people who work some of their bunch into the Klan for the purpose of giving it away."

"It certainly ruins one's standing in society when it is found out that he belongs to the hooded bunch. I wouldn't want to associate with anyone who was connected with these midnight marauders."

"I believe in the principles of the Klan; I believe that a good class of men belong; that they are doing many charitable acts, and in many places have created more respect for law and order. If I were a man I would join this order of real red-blooded Americans."

Golter decided that he was not getting anywhere in the direction which he desired to go; he tried a new tack.

"I was reading a new book the other day, the title of which is, 'The Quest for Happiness'."

"Is it good?"

"Yes. It is so much more practical than many books along that line. I suppose you would call the author a materialist, but then you know that everything in this world that has any value has a material basis."

"I am not so sure of that."

"Well, if you will read this book you will see that his philosophy is good common sense. He shows that no matter what enjoyment one seeks one must possess material wealth to secure the means of gratification. If one desires music, he needs money to attend the concerts or provide the instruments for himself. If he loves art he is all the worse if he hasn't money with which to buy pictures or visit art galleries. Man may develop an appetite for orange sundaes but he is miserable because of this fondness if he lacks the price. He knocked the doctrine of 'love in a cottage' into a cocked hat. He says, how absurd to think a couple could be happy in this day and age in a little stuffy cottage without any of the modern conveniences, unable to entertain, no automobile, no money to take a trip, etc. Isn't he right?"

"No, he isn't. Of course money has its place, and it might be very difficult to be happy in penury; but love is not dependent on rugs, furs, pianos and automobiles, which are all well enough in their place. Honesty and all of the Christian virtues are not dependent on material things. It is true that the one with the artistic taste may desire fine pictures, but if he is a true artist he will not be more miserable with the love of the beautiful within him and no money with which to purchase pictures than he would be without the aesthetic talent. Quite the opposite. He can behold the beauties of the heavens at night, the wild flowers and the birds; he can appreciate the pink hue of the dawn and the golden glow of the sunset, and enjoy the forests and ferns that jack frost paints on the window panes. To be sure, nobody wants to starve, but I am of the opinion that love will flourish no better on roast turkey and maple syrup than it will on bacon and sorghum molasses."

Ruth visited with a few of her friends in Zala while Golter attended to his business. They remained in Zala a little longer than Ruth had thought they would.

When they started home Ruth remarked, "It is later than I had thought we would be here."

Golter looked at his watch. "It's only six o'clock. If we have no bad luck we will be home by seven. We could drive it in much less than an hour if it weren't for that five miles of bad road."

"I hope we can get home by seven," said Ruth.

"Anything of importance?"

"Yes, there is. I had a date with Mr. King tonight." Ruth was not only anxious to keep the engagement with her friend but was also anxious to show Golter that his slurs and innuendos had made no other impression on her than to create a stronger desire to be more loyal to her friend. She was filled with a feeling of disgust for Golter.

This information was evidently not very pleasing to Golter. He became less talkative and the conversational atmosphere became rather chilly.

They had driven but a few miles when Golter stopped the car.

"What is the trouble?" Ruth asked.

"Something wrong with the engine." He got out and worked for fifteen minutes. Ruth felt relieved when he closed down the hood. He got into the car and they started. They had not gone far when he stopped the engine again and remarked, "There is something wrong yet with the engine."

"Oh, I wish I were an automobile mechanic for a little while so that I could know whether there is really anything wrong with that engine," thought Ruth.

Harold King's heart was singing a joyful melody as he went to the home of his friend, Ruth Babcock. He was happy because he had a chance at a big job. He felt more efficient because he was wearing a neat suit of clothes. There is a psychological value in clothes. A man who is poorly and shabbily clad may be ever so brilliant and honorable a man, but the shabby clothes detract from his confidence and power.

When Harold reached the Babcock home he was met at the door by Aunt Clara who informed him that Miss Ruth had gone to Zala with Mr. Golter. She did not know when she would be back but presumed that it would be late, as it was a long drive to Zala, and Ruth had so many friends there that she would want to see.

Harold was not in a pleasant frame of mind when he returned to his room. He threw himself down in a chair with a woe-begone look on his face. What a difference a half hour may make in one's spirits! How quickly the sunshine can vanish and darkness envelope us! Harold wondered whether or not Ruth really cared a great deal for Golter. He couldn't understand how a girl with the ideals and good sense that Ruth possessed could care very much for a snob like Golter. However, she must think a great deal of him when she broke her engagement with himself and went to another town with Golter.

He would not let her know that he cared, except to show her he was independent. He would leave on the five o'clock train the next morning for the state capital. She wouldn't know of his chance for this good job nor would she see him in his new suit. Every man desires to appear well before the woman he admires. "She owes me an explanation, and I shall stay away from her until she makes it," he thought. He was not only disappointed but his pride was hurt as well.