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THE GREAT WHITE LORD Ctfyritht, 10-. Hp T»-« .«« U. UcKtt, y-V N THAT gr«at highway of the foolish and m ■ miserable, condemned and defamed lot nil<»prnblp. condemned nnd dpfntnpd for B m years, we have hunger and thirst, hope V^-A and despair, love and hatred, as you have elsewhere. And there, too. on the Bow err we hate honest men and women, strong on the side of righteousness, as well as those who have leagued with the devil from earliest to most recent Do remember that tho Bowery Is In the heart of onrgreatest city and not In the wilds of Tibet, and believe Tme that human nature and emotions prevail there a* anywhere. If you doubt me, come and see, transfers are given at all crossings. lfI If there Is anything that will distinguish In one particular human nature on the Bowery from that of other part. It It Its primitive directness. People will love. hate, trust and despise more strongly, more directly, where the shellac of civilisation has not vet entirely veneered the whole surface. And you. of the higher civilisation, the human ty of the Bowery, because of Its absolute directness, Beems grotesque, absurd. ltI It Is Claimed that In certain stages of intoxication men will show their true selves. That • how It is on the Bowery. There, the potent inebriety of misery makes men throw all pretense to the winds. If one "WHY, NOW, YOU AIN'T GOING OUT?" is about to kill, or steal, love, grow good, or go crazy, there Is no mistaking his purpose. We have no kleptomaniacs, geniuses or eccen trics down our way; we have the direct sort, crooks, "daffies" and "bugs." And of these I will tell you a story, as I have seen It played before me. Should you come to the con clusion that the narrator belongs to either of the two last named categories of the species, stick to it by all means; it will not change conditions even a trifle. Ni«k Bender was of so littl<=> account that no one knew anything about hie private history and no one trted to find out. Not even bis landlady, Mrs. Spillane, of East Third Street, knew any more about him than that he was about aa poor as the rest of her lodgers and made less of a bluff at pros perity. Olid Mary Splllane was not a sociologist and that Bender never got above the stage of dis tributing circular i for spectacular dentists and flamboyant chiropodists, in spite of his youth and physical well-being, was no concern of hers as long as her weekly stipend of seventy five cents was paid on Saturday. There had been Saturdays when even this nriall amount had not been forthcoming, but old Mother Spillane did not have the heart to die possess the poor, inoffensive devil from his room, which, in verity, was the merest cubby hole on the top floor, where trunks unused furniture and other trash shared the space with him — in fact, Mother Spillane, who never took any interest in her lodgers, came about as sear to liking Bender as it was possible for her to like anybody. Whether Bender knew or appreciated thla fact was not apparent. He plodded along his simple way, sometimes eating, sometimes starv ing, and nothing of importance occurred to him until he fell into the gaping meshes of the Salva tion Army. Who shall dare to read men's souls arigbt? Therefore, do not Ist u« judge Bender's motives in joining this horde of Jubilant fanatics. Whether eeking salvation or forgiveness for his sini, or whether seeking self-aggrandizement, it. was his personal matter, not ours. On the other hiiiul. Hinder was not so far re moved from his kirn! of the day to oferlook any possible accruing benefit. It siwmed to him quite likely that some "painless dentist" would willingly incrtitu^ the usual daily wage of fifty cents to, at least si'Vfutv-flve cents for the privilege of hfuviug his circular* distributed by a soldier of the Army in full regimentals. But th*t was still in store, as Bender had not yet reachedf the uniformed stage and in the meantime fate was to have its frolic with him. NBXTWEEK "Gold and the Guinea's Stamp," By Leo Crane. On the day on which the curtain of this little comedy of errors rolled up, Bender was returning from his dally search for work. He had not met. with any encouragement and made his homeward Journey entertaining himself by noting the many lncidents which make the streets of the metropolis an unending panorama. He made bis leisurely way to the Bowery and, before turning Into East Third Street, Investigated the progress of the "Hygienic Restaurant," which, for weeks, had displayed this sign: "Will Open To morrow." lt was In his Immediate neighborhood and Ben der took a personal pride in this improvement of It via this dnzzlingly shining establishment for feed lng purposes. Charmed by the" bold inscriptions on the still whitened windows, reading, "Surpassing Coffee" and "Try Our Home-Made Cooking," Bender dwelled in dreams of feasting and was not aware that he, In turn, was being scrutinized. T lip proprietor of the Hygienic, a man of swarthy mien nnd decked out In much conspicuous jewelry, who had been directing the hangers of the great sign bearing the name of the restaurant, had for some time watched the circular distributer. "Working?" he broke, at last, the mutual spell of Inspection. "Me? No, not just now," answered Bender, feel lng, instinctively, that he confronted a crisis. "Want a job?" "YES, I'M GOING. PLEASE DON'T DETAIN ME." '•What at?" •'Giving out handbills and carrying a banner. The offer, partly acceptable and partly objection able, was duly considered by Bender before re plying. "I'd give out the bills — but carrying the banner ■ — gee, 1 couldn't do that." "<VII right. Get somebody else." The man closed the incident and, turned again to the sign hangers. The last Saturday had been one of those on which the seventy-five cents had not been forthcom ing Not a penny was in his pocket, of credit he knew nothing, and Bender thought furiously. No, there was no other way than the one of humilia tion, but the swarthy man never dreamed what sacrifice to pride was made when Bender declared his willingness to carry the banner. "I guess I might's well take the job, banner and all," Bender spoke at last. "What's in it?" "Fifty cents a day and three square meals.' "I'll take it and^when do I start in?" "To-morrow morning, at wven." "I'll be here." "All right, and don't disappoint me." Thus, lv this land of opportunities, fortunes are made in a twinkling. For years Bender's daily wage had been fifty cents, but never before had three square meals been thrown in." Mis. Splllane had a right to know about this turn of the wheel and to her Bender hurried. His triumphal progress was somewhat retarded by the. "second floor, rear," man, who sat, staring, on the stoop of the house. Not that the man of the sec ond floor was given to Idle talking, but his very presence alone was enough to interfere with Bon der's pursuit of the moment at any time. There had been times when that man's step on the stairs had held Bender spellbound until the slamming door resounded behind him. And so, as he came through East Third Street, his steps drew more dragging and dragging the nearer he got to the house. Hlb affairs were forgotten for the instant aud he thought so deeply of the other's that, un consciously, ho halted to ponder with greater con centration. The other's protracted scowl, directed at. Bender, set the latter aguln In motion and sent Mm flying "P the stoop with an unreplled, "Good inorning." In the hall Mrs. Splllane was trying to rub some glosu into a dilapidated hat-stand when her favor ite lodger entered. "Well, auy luck to-da^?" she Inquired listlessly. Bender reported tho events of tho day and, point- Ing at the stoop, ended with: "And how's his nibs to-day?" "Oh, about the same's usual," replied the land lady and closed the Interview. Louk after Mrs. Splllane had retired to her be loved basement regions, where lodgers were not LOS ANGELES TIER ALT) SUNDAY SUPPLEMENT. permitted to Intrude, Bender still stood In the hall. fairly boring holes with his eyes through the door, behind which the second-floor man was taking his sullen Airing. And again, later, when Bender it last had started on his Climb, he stopped at the "second floor, rear," door and came as near 10 eavesdropping as his conscience would permit htm. Whatever he heard or discovered, after a vigil of, perhaps, two minutes, Bender dlrefully shook his head and continued on to the top floor. During his three months In the Army Bender had carefully absorbed and practised the dogmas of that remarkable body. Scarcely any of the small daily tasks were performed by him without "holding communion." And no. as soon as his cubby-hole was reached, he again resorted to com munion in this "travail of his soul." These "communions" were not perfunctory mat ters, but. events accompanied by much detail. First he went to tho "sink" In the hall to Cleanse his hands: then he brushed his hair and spread n, newspaper on the floor before his cot, After this mlK<> en scene had been arranged, he again wont to the "sink" and once more washed his hands. Back In (lip room, hr locked the door and sank to hist knees on the newspaper beside the bed. With folded hands and unllfted eyes he remained so for n moment before communing with Him. his God, the (Jod of Bender. "Please excuse me, Ood, for coming to You again with my troubles, but, honest, I can't help It. And ltI It ain't only my troubles I want to talk to You about, but. I want to thank You, too, for what You done for me about getting that job at the restaur ant. it's no use o' talking, I needed it, and, You can bet. It came In awful handy. But 1 don't know what to do about them two funny people on the second floor. They're my neighbors and I got to do something for them because it Is my duty, but I don't know how or what, and I got to put It up to You and I hope You'll help me. If You would only give me a little more nerve so's I could speak to that fellow about coming over to the Army some night with me, I think it would be nil right. He's been? a sinner all right, for Captain Aggie Hasklns says you can read a whole lot. in faces and his face don't look right, to me at all. I guess that's about all I can tell You just now and 'I hope You'll send me some inspiration so's I can rescue that fellow from his wickedness. And now I thank Yon for Your goodness to mo and ask Your blessing and strength bo's I won't fall by the way side. And — and, so long, Father. Amen." And, truly, that, prayer Was heard. They were celebrating a "Hot Time Evening" at the Salvation Army that night and Bender, of course, was present. The trend of his simple life was sadly disturbed by the strange couple on the second floor, rear. The only thing he knew about them from observation and through Mrs. Splllane was that they were poorly situated. Had he known all about them he might have deemed their fate commonplace, but the mystery surrounding them and the odd appearance of the man had a strange fascination for Bender. He had thought about them and how to help them all day and at the "Hot Time" he found application to them in every song, every speech, every testimony uttered. It was ofter the song, "We're All CJoing Home to Heaven," sung to the air of "We Won't Go Home Till Morning," that Bender's psychological moment came to him. Throughout the pvpnlng a pale, ascetic man. in officer's uniform, had sat brooding on the platform. After the last chorus of "We're All Going Home to Heaven," the commanding officer of the post stepped to the edge of the platform to make the following announcement: "Comrades and friends! As you nil know, we have with us to-night Colonel Harvey Timberall, the silver-tongued orator of the Golden West. ( Colonel Timberall has been fighting glorious bat tles out in the -wicked digger-towns of Nevada and Colorado and Montana, and he is going to tell you how to fight the battle on to victory. And now let us give three cheers for Colonel Harvey Tim berall!" The cheers were given and much noise was made while the Colonel made his way to the cen ter of the platform. How his speech ranked according to Salvation Army criterions cannot be stated, but. to the aver age listener it was a weird compound of twisted theological doctrines and bombastic rhetoric. But — and that was the point— the audience liked it. Greedily they swallowed the sentences and often interrupted the orator by tumultuous applause after some particularly appealing sentiment. Bender's attention was so rapt that almost the entire speech was memorised by him. And when the speaker came to the practical hints, telling hiß congregation how they, too, every one of them, could go out into the world and do as much for their fellow men as he had done, then Bender knew and felt that the sermon had been preached solely for his benefit. v ". . . And there, behold, there He stood upon the mountain, facing the multitude, proving beyond peradventure that He was the saviour of the lowly. What did He say? 'The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Ron of Man hath not where to lay his head.' And what did he do? Did he remain facing the multitude? No! He went right down among them and gave them the message of the Master. And these are the commands of the Great White Lord: 'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.' And He also said: 'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends, . . ." That was the whole thing in a nutshell, those were the commands of the Great White Lord, and Bender heeded them. Devotional hysteria ran high that evening, and it was midnight before Bender crept up the stoop, on which the man from the second floor rear, was taking his siesta. Ordinarily Bender's nerve would have failed him, but the influence of the "Hot Time" was still potent and he determined to begin his mission at once. "We had a poorty good time over at the Army to-night." The man looked up without npeaklng. "Yes, I — you see, I belong to the Salvation Army," Bender bravely kept on, and, not getting an answer, asked: "You don't belong to the Army?" "No, scarcely," was the harsh reply. "I think you ought to," declared Bender fer vently. "It made a man o" me all right and you ought to join them too, for " "What do you mean?" exclaimed the man an grily. "Oh, nothing, only It makes a man much hap pier and — well, it does a lot o' things." "It can't make me or mine happy and I'm more interested in getting food than happiness," growled the stranger. "The Army'll give you food." "To be sure they will and then will take a mort gage on my manhood. There's such a thing as self-esteem; it's the only possession I hare and I will not beg. I have reached thn limit of misery, am foraaken by every living soul, even she — but I won't beg." "But when a man la In your fix," Bender spoke didactically, "only the Great White Lord can help him." "The Great White Lord? " "Yes," replied Bender. "I ain't never been to school, but I know that the Great White Lord can help If you only will pray to him." "And you are crazy enough to believe that? sneered the man. "I" I know it's so and nil yon got to do is to try If." "You fool! If there were any truth In that He would have helped me long ago." "Hut did you pray to Him?" "I" I prayed to Him and I cursed Him — nnd nil without avail. And they called me crazy because of my belief In Him. Now— ah, but why waste time In Idle talk." "Oee, but you mull have been an awful sinner!" ltI It slipped involuntarily from Bender's lips. " i must have been," mocked the. other. "I was one of those fools who tried to satisfy a champagne appetite on a beor Income. I played the grand bluff and when It didn't work any longer they called me Irresponsible, put me away and dubbed mcm me "crazy." But I got away and they shan't got mcm me again. And If she," — be pointed upward In the direction of his room — ."If she gives hip away, then 111 give them a chance to put me away — nnd for good." What to reply to this Bender did know. "You ought to tell It all to the Great White Lord." he sold, hesitatingly. "He'll help you — and I'll pray for you anyway." "You. and your Oreat White Lord, pshaw!" find the tenant of the second floor, rear, went up to his chamber. Alone. Bender realized that he was facing a crisis. But what was he to do? Only one thing was obvious, he must procure some food for them. But that Is no easy matter when one Is without a penny. Whnt wns he to do? They were working nil night at the Hygienic Restaurant to get It ready for the morning's open ing. Several men were bossed about by the swarthy proprietor and the place: was a bedlam of noise when Dender entered. What plea Bender made ho never knew, but after pledging his next day's pay, hp left the res taurant loaded with bundles. Careful not to lose any of the? packages, he gingerly ascended the stoop of his house and opened the door. Homebody was In the hall. There was no possibility of burglars — there was ' nothing to steal — still it was strange to find some body there at this hour of the night. Bender went straight to the figure, shrinking into the shadows — and found the wife of the second floor tenant dressed for the street. "Why how — you ain't going out?" he stam mered. ' "Yes, I'm going. Please don't detain me," she answered, eager to get away. " I think I know what you're going out for, but it, ain't necessary. . I got it right here." Bender smiled slyly, displaying his bundles. The woman's glowing eyes had been fastened on Bender, but now they saw the packages and the smiling face above them — and, as people in some rare moments will, she understood a great deal. "And you you got this for us?" . ■ "Sure," he said. "It ain't much, but in the morning I'll get you some more. Anyway, I wouldn't have him doubt, my Great White Lord." "Your Great White Lord?" the woman, asked . wonderingly. "Yes, He who says you might entertain an angel unawares." "And you think that he, upstairs, might be an angel unawares?" Bender did not like the sound of her scornful laugh. "I don't know about that, but I believe in what the Great White Lord says and " "And he should tell you that that man Is a fiend," cried the woman. "I have been loyal to him through all our stages of degradation, I have stood hin insinuations and slights, but now the end of ray endurance has been reached. To-night be told me I was the sole cause of his misery, and — and I can't stand It any lpnger. The street Is more welcome than " "Oh, now you're talking about as crazy as he does," Bender declared with a charming frankness. "All married people have a little row onoet In awhile and then they make up. All he's got to do is to believe In the Great White Lord and every thing will be all right. I know he's laughing at It now, but it's worth while trying anyway. Look what hot) made o' me!" Gently taking her arm he led the way to the dtairs and helped her retraoe her steps. Sobbingly she went with him and leaned on him until they entered the room. At the table sst the man, staring into emptiness OWEN KILDARE md not tnrnlng when he heard them. She war* ered for an Instant, but then went to him and placed her hand on hi* shoulder. "Edward," who whispered, "1 have come back; I couldn't go." TIM husband stood up. and, without a glance at Bender, who hovered In the background, he folded bis wife In his arms. The humble Intermediary thought this a good opportunity to absent himself and stepped to the table to leave his bundles. But before he had reached the door, the wife had him by the arm. "Oh, don't, go yet," slip pleaded, looking also at flip husband. "We must thank you first, and——" "Yes, I suppose we have to thank you, hut I shall r r oo — well, I shall make it all right In a day or two," mumbled the husband, greedily eying the package*. The wife, not at nil satisfied with the husband's manner, Insisted on Bender's remaining. The package! were quickly opened and the two fairly gorged themselves. Thn food disappeared rapidly, This unexpected feast seemed to intoxi cate the husband. "The Oreat White Lord isn't such a bad fellow, nfter all," lip mumbled between mouthfuls. "But say. you're a mighty queer looking cubs to be so intimate with such a great personage." The last few hours had taught Bender a great many things and he did not, propose to stand any moro flings. "You can sneer all yon like nt my Great White Lord) but I think it would become you much bet ter to thank Him. You can kid all you like, but it's only the Orpnt, White Lord that can save fel lows like on." "And -1 suppose as the next part of the service our brother here will lead in prayer?" the stranger still mocked. lt was what Bender wanted. He did not know how to expound or argue, but he had implicit faith in the power of prayer. So, for once dispensing With his preparations, he knelt In the center of the floor and spoke to his God, the God of Bender. "Please, Ciod. excuse me for coming to You with my troubles so late at. night, but this fellow here thnt I have been telling you about, he's in a bad way and his heart Is getting more and more stub born. Now, what am I going to^do? I done everything I could and prayed for him, but It don't seem to do much good. How can he refuse to believe in You? He ought to know that only for You he wouldn't maybe be alive and wouldn't have gotten his little lady back again. It waa You that made mo meet her and steer her back again. And, honest, You know how square and loyal she ls and that, she's all to the good." Whether it. was a laugh or a sob behind him Bender never knew or cared. He Just kept on. "AND THAT'S ALL, GOD, AND I HOPE YOU'LL DO IT " "This is the first time I ever tried to do what the Great White Lord tells us for to do and now, please, God, don't disappoint me. Let me make good this once, anyway. This fellow here, he ain't so bad after all, and he's educated, but he got a lit tle daffy from being on the bum and can't see that he's the cause of the whole trouble. So, please, Ood, open his eyes and make" him go out and hus tle for a job — and let him find one — bo's the little , woman won't have to be ashamed o' him no more. And You, who knows everything, know* that then the little woman's cheeks will be rosy again and that a follow has been saved from going completely to— down and out. And that's all, God, and I hope You'll do it for me. Amen." A sudden quiet had come Into the room and: Bender, not wishing to disturb It, went through! the door -with a whispered "Good-night." Insomnia never troubled Bender. Hie slumber were always Bound, in spite of hard pillow an< thnnkß to a clear conscience. It was toward morn Ing, just as the dawn was strenuously fighting th stubborn night for supremacy, when Bender wa awakened from his dreams. "Bendor," whispered the figure beside the b« I want to thank you — " "Oh, gee, that would have kept until morning, growled Homier sleepily. "I'm good and drowsy, "Uut I must tell you this, that the little woma has forgivon me and that I'm going to look for job In the morning. And I also waut to tell yo that you did this or ■" "Ah Ktup your kidding," retorted Bender, no a littlo more awake. "Don't you know yet wh done it? 'Twas the Great White Lord. Go un thank Him — and let me go to sleep. Good-night.' Moral? Ik there one?