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"it if $ :in I 4 5 tr KV &-i & h- *r} I Mi «®W I ll it ••.•.. !.. .: •••'.' ~,V5V A, r. A Striking New Serial Story That Is Coming The City wmmA OF Dreams By EDWIN BAIRD It is ft story everyone will want to read. A stoiy in which aU will find an intense interest. A phenomenal, breath-takings down-to-the* minute piece of fiction in which the reader will find himself in a grip of imagina tion and a style with an edge that holds. It is a story that contains all the intensity of action that can be expected in a plot laid in Chicago, the American city of magic. Interwoven with this intense action is a wonderful word picture of the people and conditions of a great city, a picture that takes you into the homes of the rich and the hovels of destitute. man and against whom was every man's hand. The heavy paw of the law was constantly shoving him from place to place, and he had arrived at the state of mind where it mattered to him not at all just what happened lo him. Into his life came a Girl. She was a Daughter of the Rich and her life had been sheltered and happy. Her automobile brushed the Derelict. The Derelict removed the chauffeur from the seat and spanked him soundly. The police came and would have removed the Der^ elict. But the girl intervened in his behalf and he was allowed to remaia Said the Girl to him, eyeing him with calm interest: "You are the dirtiest man I ever saw. Take this, get clean, and stay clean!" The Derelict purchased soajp and got clean. From then on it was his ambition to climb. That he had to use as stepping stones the Anarchist, a dark, intense woman who loved him, the man who loved her and various and sundry others, encountered the upward journey, mattered not at all. He wanted the girl. ^That's the story of "The City -of Purple Dreams/' and it is interesting enough to keep one waiting for each new chapter. & We are going to print this story serv ally, and you will want to read it because it is worth reading. Be sure that you get the opening chapters. die We Want Every Reader toWatch for the Open ing Chapters for if They Are Read There Will Be No Question About the Remainder *p V'F- ISaStSS There was once a Derelict whose hand was against every Read What a Few of the Critic* Say About THE CITY OF PURPLE DREAMS By Edwin B&ird The New Serial Story Which Will Be Printed in Theae Columns A story told with an abundance of imaginative force and vigor of treatment. Salt Lake City Tribune. The City of Purple Dreams" is of decided interest which does not depend alone on the love theme.— Savannah, Ga., News. The style is terse and pithy, and the work ably executed Springfield, Mass., Homestead. A story which fulfills the poetic promise cf its title. It holds the interest from start to finish.—Milwaukee Sentinel. As romantic as its title, proof that Chicago does not wear a sinister aspect for all her writers. New York Post. The virility of the chief char acter a.id the vigorous style of the writer himself raises the story above the ordinary.—The Publishers' Weekly. In large details, this story has often been told in fiction, but in description of conditions, in graphic portrayal of stormy scenes of business life, in the meetings of anarchists and the haters of the rich, there is a difference which indicates the practiced hand at writing and a knowledge of what is written about. Detroit Free Press. You Will Like It! -.,f b- !l®ifs§ •, V'S1" "3 xv tiwftSl •"•'..I'1' k*1, *4 "^5** 1 4 -v The City of Purple Dreams 8888 By EDWIN A I Copyright by F. G. Browne & Co. SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I.—Typical tramp in appear ance, Daniel Randolph Fitzhugh, wW.Ie crossing a Chicago street, causes the wreck of an auto, whose chauffeur dis ables it trying to avoid running him down. In pity the occupant of the auto, a young girl, saves him from arrest and gives him a dollar, telling him to buy soap, and wash. His sense of shame is touched, and he Improves his appearance. That night, in a crowd of unemployed and anarchists, he meets Esther Strom and in a spirit of bravado makes a speech. CHAPTER II.—Esther induces Fitzhugh to address the radical meeting. He elec trifies the crowd, and on parting the two agree to meet again. A few days later Fitzhugh visits Symington Otis, proml- nent financier, and displaying a package which he says contains dynamite, but which is merely a bundle of paper, de mands $10,000. Otis gives hirn a check. At the house he meets the girl who had given him the dollar, and learns she is Kathleen Otis. She recognizes him. Ashamed, he tears the check and escapes, but is arrested. CHAPTER III.—Esther is the first to visit Fitzhugh in Jail, and despite his pro test makes arrangements for procuring legtl advice. His trial is speedily com pleted and he Is found insane and com mitted to an asylum, from which he eas ily makes his escape and travels many miles on foot to the city of Chicago. CHAPTER IV.—Friendless and penni less, Fitzhugh takes refuge with Esther, who has become infatuated with him, but with the thought of Kathleen in his mind he gives, her no encouragement. His one idea is to become rich and powerful and win Kathleen. While hiding in Esther's nouse he grows a beard, which effectu ally changes his appearance. CHAPTER V.—In a fight with Nikolay, jealous admirer of Esther, Fitzhugh worsts him. leaving him unconscious, and escapes, though Esther is despondent. Se H1., menial Nikolay has been found dead in Esther's house, and in a letter to him she admits the killing, telling him she did it for his Bake and that she has gone away. He sees Kathleen from a distance, and is strengthened In his determination to win her. CHAPTER VI.—Fitzhugh attracts the attention of one Quigg, dealer In bogus stocks. In Qulgg's place of business Fitz hugh acts as a decoy for gullible Inves tors. Staked by his employer in a poker game for high stakes, he meets a wheat pit speculator, Henry Hunt, who believes him to be a New York man of wealth. 1th his poker winnings he joins Hunt in a wheat deal. Hunt has formed the opinion that Fitzhugh is a New York man of wealth, who will be useful to him in a business way. ..CHAPTER VII.—Through Hunt's opera tions Fitzhugh nets nearly $30,000. He leaves Quigg, devoting himself, with Hunt, to board of trade operations, win ning large sums. He receives a pathetic letter from Esther, who is in Russia, and sends her money. Telling Hunt he has gone to New York, Fitzhugh returns to his old companions and indulges in a two weeks' debauch. CHAPTER VIII.—Recovering from his spree," Fitzhugh finds Hunt knows he wealthy, but, impressed with his ability, the speculator admits him into his business deals. Fitzhugh meets Sy mington Otis, who invites him to Join him in a proposed "corner." Fitzhugh puts him off. At Otis' house he is intro duced to Kathleen, who knows him again and his enslavement Is complete. Learn ing Fitzhugh has little money, Otis is in dignant and severs friendly relations. CHAPTER IX.—Fitzhugh has won mon ey from Artie Sparkle, brainless society youth, at poker, and holds his notes. With these as a weapon he compels Sparkle to introduce him into society. He meets Kathleen occasionally, and finally con fesses his love. She gives him no definite answer, but he believes she returns his affection, and he is confident that in the end he will be able to overcome Otis' op position to the match or force him to give his consent. CHAPTER X.—Four years' speculation has netted Fitzhugh nearly $700,000. He presses Kathleen for a definite answer. She tells him that when he has a million dollars she thinks her father will consent. He agrees to wait. CHAPTER XI.—On the day Fitzhugh can claim to be a millionaire he receives a visit from Esther. She is aware of his infatuation for Kathleen and accuses him of ingratitude. He learns she is on her way to Washington to assassinate the Russian ambassador, and he warns the authorities. Esther has seen Otis and the latter affects to believe she is Fltz hugh's wife. Fitzhugh asserts the wom an is nothing to him but fails to convince either Kathleen or her father, and feels hopeless. The newspapers announce the failure of Esther's attempt to kill the Russian ambassador, and her suicide. CHAPTER XII.—Overcome with re morse, Fitzhugh seeks out the members of Esther's family and arranges for their future financial welfare. Continuing his board of trade operations he amasses much money, but all his efforts to see or get into communication with Kathleen are futile. CHAPTER XIII.—In a board of trade duel with Otis Fitzhugh brings the finan cier to the verge of ruin. He offers Otis a chance to recover in part at least his financial standing, If he will withdraw his opposition to Fitzhugh's marriage to Kathleen, but the old gentleman is ob stinate. Still Fitzhugh refrains from bringing about Otis' complete ruin, which it was In his power to do. CHAPTER XIV.—While abroad Fitz hugh learns of Otis' death and that he has left practically r.o estate. He returns home, resumes his right name—Hugh Daniel Fitzrandolph--which he had drop ped during the days of his reckless wandering and while engaged in his op erations on the board of trade, and to oc cupy his mind goeB Into politics, becom ing a candidate for the mayoralty of Chi cago in a bitter fight which satisfies even Fitzhugh's love of excitement. CHAPTER XV.—Despite lavish outlay of money and a spectacular campaign, Fitzhugh is defeated. He decides on a philanthropic scheme in memory of Es ther Strom which will involve the outlay of millions, and while engaged in this work receives a note from Kathleen, re minding him of an appointment they had made in happier days. He hastens to her, and their meeting results in the clearing up of all doubt and misunder standing. AUDUBON COUNTY JOURNAL. iisii employment he learns that CHAPTER I. Even Chicago's corroding March Wind could not dull the gloss of his buoyancy. Like a furious mastiff it tore at him angrily, snapping viciously at his poorly protected body, snarling fyid howling malevolently. But to him it was no more than a bumptious puppy that worried him not at all. Head erect, hands thrust deep in rag ged pockets, he swung jauntily along the Rush street bridge, whistling mer rily a popular coon song. He was wretchedly clad—a mass of rags and tatters. His face was smudged with a healthy growth of jet black beard, and It required little scru tiny to see he had long been a stranger to soap and water. He was very tall— over six feet—and this accentuated his slovenliness. He was a man of twenty-four, with a distinguished face rather than a handsome one, and he had an athlete's physique. At the south end of the bridge he turned and* started across the street. Midway he stopped short. Standing on the opposite sidewalk was a plain clothes detective, Pat Kelly by name, who yesterday had arrested him on a vagrancy charge and released him with a warning to leave the city or suf fer the consequences. There was no time for hesitation. He had caught Kelly's unfriendly eye, and he knew what to expect. He wheeled about, started back and plunged directly in the path of a high powered touring car which came hur tling across the bridge. Things happened quickly. It was too late to sidestep the onrushing ma chine, too late to stop it, and the chauffeur, in a frantic effort to avoid running him down, jerked wildly at his steering wheel the big car veered, dashed diagonally across the street, and smashed slap-bang against a brick wall. The hood of the car was caved in, the lamps demolished, the front wheels broken and the axle twisted but to the occupants—two girls who sat in the tonneau—no harm had come. As soon as the vagabond looked upon the wreck, a smashing blow caught him behind the ear, another on his neck an arm was twisted be hind his back, and a red, hairy hand clutched at his throat. Without turn ing round he knew it was Kelly knew, also, that he must not strike back, for nothing earns a culprit quicker or se verer punishment than resisting an of ficer. One of the girls in the tonneau jumped quickly to the ground and stepped between the belligerents. The heavy motoring veil which theretofore had concealed her face was now lifted, and she stood revealed as one of those Insidiously beautiful and frankly femi nine girls who command golden opin ions from all men, slavish obedience from most, and the envy and jealousy of many women. Her eyes, normally of a dark, velvety blue like a pansy's petals, were nearly black as she turned scornfully upon the detective. "You contemptible coward!" she ac cused spiritedly. "To attack a man when his back is turned!" Kelly smiled down at her Indulgent ly and shook his head. "No, miss," said he, "you misjudge me I'm a plain-clothes man from detective headquarters." "That does not alter the first fact," 6he retorted. Fumbling hastily In her purse, she confronted Kelly as he started off with his prisoner. "If you arrest that man," she cried warningly, "I'll—" She left the sentence uncompleted, and plucking a visiting card from her purse thrust it into the detective's hand. He read the name thereon, and then looked at the girl with a respect as sudden as it was profound. "Let me see you're Mr. Black burn's—" "Niece. He will grant me any favor I ask of him. Do you still wish to take your prisoner?" Officer Kelly capitulated uncondi tionally. Without a word he lifted his hat half an inch from his head and turned on his heel and walked swiftly away. The girl stepped back from the lib erated pne and surveyed him curiously from head to foot. He had sniffed an odor of violets when she was near him, and he saw now It came from a cluster on a lapel of her tan motor coat. He felt ashamed. For perhaps the first time in his life of vagabond age he was conscious of his rags, of his unwashed body, of his unshaven face, of his slothful dirtiness. And he was ashamed. "Take this dollar," she said, hold ing out a bill to him, "and buy some soap with It. Candidly, I believe you are the dirtiest young man I ever saw." The hot color receded from his cheeks, leaving them, if one could have seen the slcln, as white as marble. Very daintily he took the bill from her fingers, crumpled it In his capacious I A left hand, and removing nis Dattered hat with his right held it arm's length and made a sweeping, exaggerated bow, bringing the hat upon his breast at its conclusion. "Thank you, kind lady, you are very good," said he, and there was now in his voice a deep, mellow tone which caused her to look at him more closely. "The base lucre"—he folded the bill and deftly concealed it in some myste rious recess of his rags—"will pur chase for my parching thirst some twenty swallows of whisky. Dear lady, I bid you good day." "Wait!" she cried, as though uncer tain whether or not to laugh. .UTell me your name." "Daniel Randolph Fitzhugh, dear lady, at your service." Again he made the mock-cavaller bow, and with a ridiculous show of haughtiness walked innih "Buy Some Soap With It. Candidly, I Believe You Are the Dirtiest Young Man I Ever Saw." off, leaving her staring after him with I parted lips and a half-amused, half puzzled expression in her pansy eyes. Beside the automobile he stooped and picked something from the ground. An examination showed it to be a dainty handkerchief of exquisite lace. He thrust it in a tattered pocket and walked on. Just outside a certain unsavory sa loon, supported by derelicts of the un derworld, he took out the handker chief and held it to his nostrils again he breathed the fragrant odor of vio lets. He examined it clumsily, with a sort of awe, and in one corner found a tiny embroidered "K." For a full minute he stood with the bit of lace pressed to his nose sud denly he .jerked his hand away, glanced sheepishly around and grinned foolishly. He entered a "blind" al ley near the saloon, and with his back toward the street unbuttoned his coat and vest, thus displaying the absence of a shirt. He glanced over his shoul der, and grinned sheepishly, and folding back the flap of his soiled un dershirt he placed the handkerchief next his skin. With a safety pin (it required several to hold together parts of his apparel) he secured it to his un dershirt over his heart. After which he laughed loudly and harshly and with a great, cynical contempt, and emerged from the alley and buttoned his coat. "I'm a blanl^gty-blank fool!" he mut tered savagely, and pushed open the swinging doors of the saloon and stalked inside. The remainder of the day he spent In attending to his personal appear ance. He enjoyed a shave and a wash, and discarded his tattered coat for a newly purchased snowy white sweater which reached from the top of his throat to below his waistline. Thus transformed, he appeared at midnight In West Madison street, where a densely packed crowd had assembled. A. platoon of policemen, marching five abreast and nrmed with night sticks, had .drawn up on the outskirts of the ?rowd. The police had been given to understand that the jobless men would march once around the "loop" and dis band on the lake front. But It was now seen this was not their plan. In stead of turning east the leaders turned west, and all along the line the :ry arose "Smulskl's hall Fitzhugh fell in with the surging aiass, and like it became imbued with the spirit of "On to Smulski's hall!" In front of the rendezvous a large ?rowd was already collected the new arrivals swelled it threefold. Then, Dy that curious Coiui ox thought trans ference which often animates big gath srings, word went through the crowd that the hall was nearly fille^, that there was room for scarcely two hun flred more. And fully five thousand wanted admittance. As by a single impulse the crowd became a seething, damorlng, blind mob that surged this '., way and that, trampling the weak un derfoot, crushing, struggling, swearing, without reason or purpose. The police, instantly suspectiug a riot, rushed in, using tlieir batons freely. •j By sheer strength Fitzhugh wedged his way to the protection of a door, which, being partly open, gave way before ihe impact of his body, precipi tating him into a narrow hallway, ile regained his feet in a second, and stepping outside closed the door and stood with his back against it. The next moment a singular thing happened. From out that frenzied mob, like a ship tossed by a restless sea into a haven of safety, a woman was swept squarely into his arms. For a bare moment he held her, flushed and palpitating, in a close embrace. Then he released her and saw her hat was missing and that her clothing was torn and disarrayed. "Thank you!" she exclaimed breath lessly. The rays of a near-by street lamp fell athwart her face, and his first thought was that she was a Jewess then a Russian, he added, apparently of good birth and schooling. Though she spoke with a slight foreign accent, her English was grammatically per fect. Her forehead, unusually broad and high for a woman, and her cast of features denoted uncommon intellect. Like angry waves the mob raged about them in their inadequate refuge, and he opened the door, pushed her into the hallway, and followed, clos ing the door behind them. "You'll find it safer in here," said he, and added with some hesitation "I—my name is Fitzhugh. You needn't tell me yours if you'd rather not." "I see no reason why I shouldn't,'' she retorted, yet with the hot color flooding her cheeks, "i am Esther Strom, Mr. Fitzhugh, and I am very happy to know you, even if only for a minute." She held out to him a small, dark hand, and he pressed it in his large, white one. "Are you going inside?" she asked. "I don't think so," he laughed, and motioned toward the crowd outside. "How can I?" "You—I might be able to get you in—if you care to go." He started. "Then you are an—" "Oh!" Her hand fumbled excitedly at her neck, then dropped to her side with a little gesture of dismay. "I'm afraid I've lost something—something I valued very much. It was a brooch— an heirloom. And I've lost it!" He struck a match, and together they searched the floor. "Perhaps you dropped it outside," he suggested and feeling the neces sity of doing something, yet knowing the futility of the action, he opened the door leading to the street. Mid way between the door and the alley, against the brick wall of the building, he saw a large packing case. He noted' it was of strong material, re- enforced at the corners. The woman seemed to have forgot ten her loss in the rush of some stronger emotion. She stood beside him, gazing at the-unclean crowd with wistful eyes, and there shone in the liquid depths a great sadness, and something far rarer besides—sympa thy. "You poor, wretched people!" he heard her murmur. "How I wish I could talk to you as I should like to!" Ho looked at her quickly. His bud ding thought burst suddenly into full bloom. To "show oil" before this woman, to parade his talent before her, to impress her and win her ad miration—what delight that would be! "Perhaps I could do it for you," he offered, his voice betraying his eager ness. "Would you like to hear me try?" Without waiting for her answer, fearful lest It be a negative, he el bowed his way to the packing case, mounted It, drew a deep breath, and stood up to his full height. The arc lamp, beating upon his face, served uncommonly well for a calcium light. "Fel-low cit-i-zens!" His deep-toned bass boomed up and down the street. "The time has come for revolt. The rich and the mighty have ground us in the dust long enough. We must turn. We must claim our own. We are the pro-ducers—the backbone of this pow-er-ful nation. Who shall con trol it—the capitalists or the working men His voice, deep and sonorous, pro nouncing each word very fully and very distinctly, rang out over the dis ordered crowd like a foghorn cutting through a misty night. It was the old story of noise being mistaken for wisdom, and it inflamed his hearers like* fire to dry twigs. (Nothing could have more aroused them. When after several minutes of thunder and bombast he brought his address to a whirlwind close and bowed and turned to climb down, there was a rumbling, mumbling, confused outcry that arose, one solid roar of approbation, and lasted until the giv ers thereof were hoarse. He fought his way through his newly made ad mirers and returned to the woman, whom he saw standing in the door way, waiting for him. She pulled him inside and stood with her back against it, looking at him with shining eyes. "I—I want you to speak for us tonight. Won't yon. please?" She leaned nearer him, rest ing her hand on his arm, and her eyes as well as her lips said "please." He felt a peculiar impulse to put his arms around her, and conquered it just In time. "There's a side entrance. I have the 'open sesame.' I will take you on the platform with me. You will come, wont you?" Again that pleading of mouth and eye. She stepped into the street. "Are you coming?" she called back. "Coming?"—he hurried after her and took her arm, the better to pro tect her from the jostling throng. "You bet I'm coming. With you!"