  Harold the Klansman BY GEORGE ALFRED BROWN THE WESTERN BAPTIST PUBLISHING COMPANY KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI 1923 Copyright, 1923 by George Alfred Brown NEODESHA, KANSAS All Rights Reserved As a tribute of love and in appreciation of her encouragement and help in my various lines of labor I respectfully dedicate this volume to my wife, Lela Lockhart Brown. G.A.B. PREFACE The purpose of the author in writing this story is to furnish the public with reliable information about the Ku Klux Klan, and at the same time give entertainment. It is also hoped that Klansmen who read this story will be given a greater appreciation of the Invisible Empire. While this is essentially a work of fiction, yet the principles as here elucidated are the true principles of the Ku Klux Klan. Statistics quoted in this story are accurate and quotations credited to real persons are correct. The story as a whole is fiction but many of the incidents are true. George Alfred Brown. Neodesha, Kansas, Chapter I Ruth Babcock was a heroine. To be sure folk did not think of her as deserving a place in any catalogue where the names of heroic folk are recorded. She was known in the community as a girl with a kindly heart and plenty of grit. She was descended from fighting stock—her mother, who had died when she was twelve years old, was the daughter of an ex-confederate colonel, Clayton Jameson. She had run away from home to marry Fred Babcock, the son of Major Babcock of General Sherman's staff. The Jamesons were opposed to the match. Their family was one of the oldest and most aristocratic of Virginia. They knew nothing of young Babcock except that he was an intelligent, well mannered young man and the son of a major who had fought against the Southland during the war. Caroline Jameson had a number of suitors, scions of "best families," but, contrary to her parents' wishes, she refused to accept any of these and insisted on marrying Fred Babcock. When her parents positively refused to give their consent, she defied them and eloped with him. They came West and settled in the town of Zala, where young Babcock secured employment in the only bank of the town. When the baby came and Caroline Babcock wrote her parents that they had named their baby girl Ruth, in honor of her mother, the Babcocks received a letter, by return mail, containing a message of forgiveness and blessing and insisting that they come home on a visit and give the grandparents an opportunity to become acquainted with their granddaughter. In this way the estrangement came to an end. Two years before this story opens, when Ruth was eighteen, an event happened which brought Ruth, who had just graduated from high school, face to face with the stern realities of life. Her father was at this time president of the bank where he had worked for twenty years. Through careful economy he had become the principal stockholder. Ruth had noticed for several weeks that her father was nervous and worried. One night he was called out of bed and had a conference with Dick Watson, his cashier, and Jim Stover, the president of Wilford Springs Central State Bank. The next morning after this conference her father told her that Stover was helping him out of a little difficulty he was having in his banking business. That morning Stover took charge of the Ranchmen's Bank of Zala. The same afternoon her father was hurt in an automobile accident. He was seriously injured, and for a time his life was despaired of. He had partially recovered from the injury, but with his memory destroyed to the extent that he could remember nothing that had transpired before the accident. When Ruth inquired about the business she was told by Stover that he had bought her father's bank stock for twenty thousand dollars. She found a balance of only twelve hundred dollars to her father's credit. Stover informed her that her father had been in debt to him in the sum of twenty thousand dollars and that he had taken the stock to accommodate him. He showed her the assignment which her father had made. Most of the twelve hundred dollars was spent for hospital fees and doctor bills. When her father was brought home, unable still to take up active work and with his memory gone, Ruth found herself confronted with the problem of how to earn a living for herself and family. After consulting with Mr. Stover, she decided to take a stenographic course in a business college. In order to provide the money to do this she sold the home in Zala and moved with her father and aunt (who, since the death of her mother, had been their housekeeper) to Wilford Springs where there was a good business college. As she must husband her resources she felt it would be advisable to rent a residence and live at home; another consideration was her father's condition. She could not bring herself to the point where she was willing to leave him in Zala with her aunt; besides, after disposing of the home, she concluded that the expense of living in Wilford Springs with the family all together would not be as great as if part were to remain at Zala. After a year in business college she felt qualified for a position. It was imperative that she get employment as soon as possible as her finances were getting low again. She went to her friend and former advisor, Jim Stover, to ask his assistance in securing employment. Much to her surprise he offered her a position in the Wilford Springs Central State Bank. It was with a great deal of figuring—close figuring, too—that she met the bills of her family with the meager salary she received as stenographer. One evening, after she had been employed in the bank about a year, as she stepped out on the street she met her friend Harold King, a young architect, whom she had met soon after coming to Wilford Springs. "Hello, Ruth." "Hello, Harold." "Which way, Ruth?" "I am going down to Smith and Son's Grocery Store to get some groceries, then I intend to catch a Sylvan Avenue car." "If you have no objections I will walk with you to the grocery." "None whatever. I always enjoy good company." "How is your father?" "Apparently there is no change in him. He has a good appetite and rests well but gets very nervous at times and his memory doesn't come back to him. If I only had the money I would take him to Dr. Lilly, who is recognized as one of the best mental and nerve specialists in the United States." "It is too bad that so many of us have to be so often hampered for money," he remarked. "I can stand it except when we need it for the services of a doctor. I don't mind having to wear the old dress longer than most girls wear theirs, but when Daddy is in the condition he is and I think there might be some help for him if I just had the money then the lack of it hurts." "Don't worry," he remarked, endeavoring to comfort her, "circumstances may soon change." "Circumstances must change. I'll make them change," she said with determination. "Ruth, I wish I could help in some way. Maybe, if someone would suggest to Stover that he raise your salary he would do so." "He might. I have worked there a year. He seems pleased with my work but has raised my salary only once and that raise was but ten dollars. Of course, I wouldn't want to ask any of my friends to make a suggestion of that kind to my employer." The subject of salary was dropped and Ruth remarked, "There was a man in the bank today who said that there is an organizer of the Ku Klux Klan in town and that he wants to organize here." "I hadn't heard that," he replied, "but I have been reading considerable about Klan activities." "You haven't read much that was good of them, have you?" she asked. "Well, yes; I have read of some charitable deeds of the Klan and also of some other good things that they have done." "The most I have read of them were accounts of where they had whipped someone or given somebody a coat of tar and feathers. Mr. Stover said that it would be a disgrace to the city to have a Klan here. He says that it's an outlaw organization." "Really, Ruth, I don't know enough about it to judge." "Here is Smith and Son's. Goodbye." When she reached home, not seeing her father, she asked for him. "He just went for a little walk down the street." "How is he?" "He has been talking all day about that safe combination," Aunt Clara answered. "I was in hopes he had gotten his mind off of that. He hadn't mentioned it before since I told him they had found the combination and opened the safe. Which way did he go? I will go and meet him." "He started east on this street." She walked several blocks east but saw nothing of her father, and was about to turn back when she looked down a side street and saw him only a short distance away. She waved her hand to him and he waved his in answer. She was soon by his side. "How are you, Daddy?" she asked. "Busy, Ruth; very busy. I have been trying to remember the combination to that safe. I almost had it once—I got as far as two turns to the right and then back to the left to forty. I can't remember any more." "What safe is it, Daddy?" "My safe; where all our money is locked up. We wouldn't be poor if I could find that safe and get it open." "Where is that safe? Can't you remember at all?" "No, honey, that is what I am trying to do. If I could remember the combination it might help me to remember where the safe is." "Daddy, don't you remember that you sold your bank stock to Mr. Stover and that the only safe you had was the bank safe?" "No. I can't remember anything about ever having had any bank stock." "Can't you remember at all about being a bank president?" "No. I remember that you have asked me about a bank lots of times, but then you know I can't remember anything that happened before I woke up in the hospital and they told me that I had been in an automobile accident; except, that I had a safe with money, lots of money." "Well, don't bother about it now. Look at the beautiful roses in that yard." "They are beautiful. How wonderful it is that God touches the cold dull earth with life and it brings forth such marvelous beauty." Ruth looked up at him admiringly. He was a tall well proportioned man, a little past middle age. His features were noble, his bearing dignified. In spite of the loss of memory, his speech and acts expressed a refinement which had become second nature to him. "Come, Daddy," she said, taking him by the arm, "let's go. Aunt Clara will be waiting dinner for us." Aunt Clara was on the porch waiting for them when they arrived. "It's about time you were coming, the dinner is getting cold." "We are here 'ready to go,'" said Ruth, laughing, "and I have a wonderful appetite that is craving some of your chicken salad." "My dear," said Aunt Clara, "you are not going to be disappointed tonight. I have the salad prepared." "Fine! Doesn't that sound good, Daddy?" "Yes—if I can remember the other numbers." "I was talking about dinner. Aunt Clara has chicken salad for dinner. Isn't that fine?" "Yes, chicken salad is all right." At the dinner table Ruth remarked, "I heard in the bank this afternoon that there is an organizer of the Ku Klux Klan in town, and that he intends to organize here." "Mercy on us!" exclaimed Aunt Clara, "I hope those awful Ku Kluxers won't come to this town. I was just reading today of some of the terrible things they are doing in Texas." "I know it's two turns to the right, then back to the left to forty." "Father, we were talking about the Ku Klux Klan." "What's the Ku Klux Klan?" her father asked. "Don't you remember from your study of history of the Ku Klux Klan that came into existence after the Civil War?" "No, I have no memory of it. You told me about the Civil War the other day, and as you told me it seemed to me I had heard of it before." "The Ku Klux Klan was an organization that originated at Pulaski, Tennessee, in 1866. Its object was to preserve order. Local authority had been broken down as a result of the war and women were not safe on the streets. Carpet-baggers from the North were controlling the negro vote in the South and actually placing ignorant negroes in office for the purpose of preying on the impoverished South. The Ku Klux Klan was not only for the purpose of preserving order, but to control the political situation as well and keep ignorant negroes from office. It was claimed that while it seemed necessary to establish law and order at that time through an organization outside of the officers, since these were mostly carpet-baggers and negroes during the reconstruction period, there were many cases of abuses, such as whippings for minor offenses and occasionally someone even punished who was not guilty of any offense." "It's dangerous for people to take the law into their own hands," said Aunt Clara. "Yes, but you remember it was thought necessary to have vigilance committees in pioneer days out West. The old Ku Klux Klan claimed that no one was ever punished without a trial." "But wasn't there courts to give trials?" "Yes, but the civil courts were at that time presided over by ignorant negroes and by carpet-baggers who were anxious for political reasons to please the negroes. It is quite likely that there were not nearly so many cases of miscarried justice where cases were passed on by the Ku Klux Klan as there would have been if these cases had been passed on by the courts." "But you said a moment ago that it may have been true that some innocent persons were punished." "Of course that is always to be regretted but our courts often make mistakes also." "Is this the same organization that is coming here?" her father asked. "Oh, no, the old Ku Klux Klan was disbanded in 1871. Congress passed a law providing suppressive measures, and as the best people of the South, many of whom were members of the Klan, did not wish to oppose a law of Congress, the society was disbanded; however, during the time it existed it had done much to bring order out of chaos. My mother told me that Grandfather Jameson was a member. Today when we were talking about the Klan in the bank, Mr. Stover said that the Klan might have been necessary in the South in reconstruction days, but that the courts and police officers were now amply able to enforce laws and furnish the public with protection. He says that this new Klan is composed of outlaws, that it has all the vices of the old order and none of the virtues." "Judging from what I have been reading in the papers, he is correct," said Aunt Clara, and then added, "Ruth, have some more chicken salad?" Chapter II Reverend Rossini was the priest who presided over the Roman Catholic parish in Wilford Springs. He was an Italian by birth and was educated for the priesthood in Italy. He had been in this country only ten years. He did not mix with the general public and apparently took but little interest in public affairs. Protestants often remarked that one thing that could be said for the Reverend Rossini was that he attended strictly to his own business. The Reverend Rossini was seated in the living room of the priest's home one evening enjoying a cigar, when his housekeeper announced a caller. "Father," she said, "Patrick McBryan is in the reception room and wishes to see you." "Have Patrick come in." Patrick McBryan was a local politician. He had held some office for the past fifteen years and was an important factor in every election. At the present time he was one of the city commissioners. "How are you, Patrick? Have a chair." "Glad to see you, Father. Are you well?" "Quite well, Patrick." The priest rang a little bell on the table by his side. A maid came promptly in answer to this summons. "Margaret, bring up a bottle of wine and two glasses." "Yes, Father." She courtesied and left the room. In a short time she returned with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. The priest poured a glass of the sparkling beverage and passed it to Patrick. When he had filled his own he held it up and toasted his visitor. "May you prosper and be granted many years to serve the Holy Church." "Thank you, Father; the same to you." After Patrick had emptied his glass he smacked his lips and remarked, "Splendid stuff! We don't get anything like that at Hennesy's." "It is too bad," said the priest, "that a lot of prohibition cranks can pass laws which compel the common people to drink poor liquor; and that where they do not have liberal officers, as we have here, are compelled to buy it clandestinely. It's a shame! The time will come, though, when we will have the votes to repeal this ridiculous prohibitory amendment." "You are right, Father. It's only a question of time until we will be able to restore the saloons. The expense of trying to enforce the law and the great number of violations will disgust the public and make them anxious to repeal the amendment." "Another bad feature of this law is that it increases crime. Statistics show that crime is on the increase in this country. Folk are restless without liquor. Of course, I believe that folk should obey the law, but a law that increases crime is a bad law. Patrick, have another drink." He filled the glasses again, and they both drank. "This is certainly fine, but a little expensive, I should judge." "Yes, that is another evil effect of the law. This wine was made in the famous Champagne district of France, shipped to Canada and was brought via airplane from Canada here. The runner is entitled to reasonable compensation but, Patrick, I tell you he is unreasonable—even to his regular patrons, charges five times what he should for this wine. It's a shame that the government will pass a law that permits grafters to take advantage of the public in this way." "Father Rossini, I came to talk with you about a very important matter." "All right, Patrick. What is it?" "A Ku Klux Klan organizer is in town and is wanting to organize a Klan here." "Mercy, mercy! Is that a fact? Do you know it to be true, Patrick?" The priest rose from his chair and walked nervously to and fro. "Yes, Father, there is no mistake about it. The Knights of Columbus at Asher notified us that he was coming. We located him at the Andrew's Hotel. One of our Knights of Columbus took a room next to his. Last night he heard the organizer and some man, whom he could not identify by the voice, making a prospective list. Our Knight of Columbus stood on a chair near the transom but did not dare to look over to see who was with the organizer." "God bless the Knights of Columbus! They are rendering valiant service to His Grace, the Pope, and the Holy Church. What was the character and standing of the men whom they were discussing as prospective Klansmen?" "They were among the very best men of the town." The priest resumed his seat. "Patrick," he said, "this Ku Klux Klan is a very dangerous and vicious organization." "Yes, Father, we often hear that in the Knights of Columbus hall." "Yes. I know we have often discussed it there, but I am afraid that you do not fully realize the danger. The Catholic Church is strong in the United States and growing stronger every day. Stronger not only in numbers but in influence and wealth. We have many men in important public positions, naturally this is to be expected—but Patrick, do you know that we have men in office out of all proportion to our numerical strength? Why? Simply because we are united. Politicians know that if they can get the support of Catholics that they will have back of them an organization that will act as a unit. 'In union there is strength.' The fact that we are united has a powerful influence in the industrial as well as in the political world." "Yes, I am sure of that. Down at the L. & B. factory we have Catholic foremen in every department, and the employees there don't need to be told that it is advantageous to a Catholic. "The Protestants are divided, and we want to keep them divided. If the Ku Klux Klan becomes a great organization uniting the Protestant men of this country (and it is having a marvelous growth) our influence will be lessened. This Klan organization is opposed to foreign immigration. In 1921 there were eight hundred five thousand, two hundred twenty-eight immigrants to the United States." (He went to a cabinet and took out a little book which he consulted). "Two hundred twenty-two thousand, four hundred ninety-six of these were Italians, my own countrymen, thirty-nine thousand, fifty-six were Irish, your countrymen——" "I was born in America," said McBryan, interrupting the priest. "Well, the land of your ancestors, then. Twenty-nine thousand, six hundred three were Mexicans. Of this group of two hundred ninety-one thousand, fifty-five, at least ninety per cent are Catholic. Of the remainder—one hundred nineteen thousand, fifty-six were Jews, in whom we have no especial interest. Of the remaining three hundred ninety-five thousand, one hundred seventeen it is safe to say that fully fifty per cent are Catholic. You see that the Catholic Church is gaining through immigration more numbers than all the other churches combined, while the next greatest number go to the Jewish Church. We must keep the bars down to immigration, as it means a rapid increase in membership for our church, and that means an increase in influence and power. Father Vaughn says: 'The tide of immigration is a Catholic one. And it is more: it is from these Catholic immigrants settling in the states, that teeming generations are to come condemning by their overwhelming numbers the sterility of the old American settlers.' Patrick, I am satisfied that if this organization is not put down we will never be able to repeal the eighteenth amendment. In the cities where the Klan has become strong our men have been voted out of city offices and our teachers have been removed from the teaching forces of city schools. The things which this organization has already done are outrageous and the things which they purpose to do are damnable." "Yes, Father, I know that what you say is true, but the Knights of Columbus are on the job to prevent the spread of this Klanism." "That is true, Patrick, I know it's true. A blessed organization is the Knights of Columbus! You said that the men suggested good citizens for membership. We must prevent as many of these good citizens from joining the organization as possible." "Father, how is that to be done?" "We must put out propaganda to discredit the organization. The press of the country for the most part is very helpful; occasionally there is a renegade paper that supports the Klan, but for the most part the papers that support it are small country papers. As you no doubt know, many of our metropolitan papers are owned by Catholics and many more that are owned by Protestants are under obligations to Jewish and Catholic advertisers. However, we must have a local paper that will quote the law violations of the Klan from the press all over the country and write editorials against it. Springer, the editor of The Journal, is a Catholic sympathizer, and I am satisfied that with proper inducements offered he will line up all right. If we can continually put before these good citizens propaganda to the effect that this is an outlaw organization they will be slow to join. I will see Springer." "Don't you think that it would be a good thing to get the mayor to make a public statement denouncing the Klan as an outlaw organization and warning the citizens against becoming members or in any way encouraging this organization?" McBryan asked. "That is the thing to do if we can find the proper person to approach the mayor." "Jim Stover is the man to see the mayor." "You mean the president of the Central State Bank?" queried the priest. "Yes." "He's a Protestant." "Yes, but very much opposed to the Klan. A number of Ks. of C. have heard him express himself as bitterly opposed to the Kluxers. He is able to get anything he wants from the mayor." "You see him, Patrick, and give him to understand that if he stands by us in this fight he can expect more deposits than he has had from Catholics and that the Ks. of C. will return the favor in a political way whenever he wants it—just so they are not asked to oppose a Catholic or support a Protestant who is hostile to Catholics. Patrick, it would be advisable to get a Catholic or a Catholic sympathizer to join the Klan so that we may get inside information." "I know just the man. His name is Tom Glynn. He works at the mill. He told me that his wife is a Catholic and that he was raised a Catholic but that he had not been to confessional for so long that he no longer considers himself one." "See if you can't get him to undertake this mission for His Grace, the Pope, and the Church. Tell him that sometime he will want the consolation of the Church, and that if he renders this service I will absolve him and give him my blessing. I think that is all for the present." "Goodbye, Father." "Goodbye, Patrick. The Klan is dangerous and an enemy to Rome, but we have the Knights of Columbus, Deo gratias." Chapter III Charles Wilson, a prosperous real estate dealer, sat in his office enjoying the breeze from his electric fan. Charles was a hustling real estate agent in spite of his two hundred forty pounds. He had just returned from a long, hot drive in the country and found the fan very agreeable. He had just removed his collar and tie when a young man entered. "How are you, Harold? Have a chair." "How are you, Mr. Wilson?" "Just able to sit up and take nourishment. You see I am wasting away." Wilson shook his fat sides with laughter. "I hope you will soon take on a little flesh," said Harold. "Harold, how is architectural business?" "The facts are that I am not doing much, but I still have hopes." "It would be an awful world without hope. Just keep a stiff upper lip and things will come your way some of these times." Wilson's voice was so cheerful that Harold felt encouraged already. "Why don't you make a bid for the proposed new city building?" "I had thought of trying for this work, but I am not acquainted with the mayor and only slightly acquainted with one commissioner." "That doesn't make any difference, if you can convince them that you can do the work." "I have a good recommendation from the architect in whose office I was draughtsman before coming to Wilford Springs. Since I opened the office here I have designed only a few small buildings, but I am competent to design any kind of a building they want." "Harold, you apply for the work, and I will see what I can do for you." "Thank you. I will make application. I did not come up here to talk of my own affairs. I understand that your stenographer has quit and I want to recommend one to you." "No, my stenographer has not quit, but she is off for a two weeks' vacation." "I thought if you didn't have a stenographer I would make a recommendation. Do you know of anyone who does need one?" "No, not at present. Who is the stenographer you wish to secure a position for?" "Miss Babcock, the stenographer at the Central State Bank." "Are you interested in stenographers in general or Miss Babcock in particular?" Wilson asked with a knowing smile. "It's an interest in Miss Babcock in particular," admitted Harold. "Eh, you sly fox, I thought so," said Wilson as he gave Harold a vigorous punch in the ribs. "Well, I don't blame you. If I were twenty-five years younger you might have some competition, but as I am old and fat I presume I will have to trot along in single harness, pulling the whole load by myself to the end of the road. What is the matter with the job at the bank?" "She only gets ninety dollars a month. You know, Mr. Wilson, that that isn't enough for a good stenographer. Ruth—I mean Miss Babcock—has to support her father and aunt. They can get along on her salary, but her father was injured in an automobile accident and as a result of the injury he lost his memory. Miss Babcock is anxious to save enough money to send her father to a specialist." "I like to see a girl like that succeed. If she is worth more than ninety dollars a month Stover should pay it to her." "Maybe if you would make a suggestion that she should be paid more Stover would raise her salary." "I'll find out what she can do, and if I think she should have more money I will mention it to Stover." "Thanks, I will appreciate it and I am sure Miss Babcock will." Harold arose and walked to the door and then turned and asked, "What do you think of the Ku Klux Klan?" "Judging from what I know of it—from sources other than the newspapers I read—I think pretty well of it." "I do too. I hear that there is to be a lecture on 'The Klan' given in a pasture four miles west of town. What do you say? let's go." "All right, Harold. I'm with you." That afternoon Wilson went into the Wilford Springs Central State Bank. "How are you, Jim?" "How are you, Charles?" "My stenographer is off on a vacation and I need to draw up a contract. I thought perhaps I could get your stenographer to write it for me." "Certainly," replied the obliging banker, "come right into my office and she will get it out for you." Stover and Wilson walked into the office. "Ruth," Stover said, addressing his stenographer, "Mr. Wilson wants you to draw up a contract for him." "Yes, sir." She sat down to a table and took down the dictation without once asking him to repeat. When he was through dictating she went into her private office to make typewritten copies. The two men remained in the president's office talking. In a short time Ruth returned and handed Wilson the contracts and returned to her office. After looking them over Wilson remarked, "Jim, that's a fine stenographer you've got." "Yes, she's good and always on the job." "What do you pay her?" "Ninety dollars." "How did you manage to get a girl like that for ninety dollars? I pay my stenographer one hundred thirty dollars, and the chances are that if she had done this work I would have had to send the work back to have one or two corrections made. If you don't pay that girl more money someone will take her away from you." The banker smirked and rubbed his thin hands together. "I have raised her wages once since I employed her. I think a lot of Ruth, both as a stenographer and a girl. I will probably give her another raise soon. You see, Mr. Wilson, I am a special friend of her father. He got into some difficulty when president of the bank at Zala a couple of years ago, and I bought his stock to help him out, and of course I feel an interest in the girl." "Well, I must be going." A little way up the street Wilson met Harold King. "I saw Jim Stover and had a talk with him about the salary of your friend. (Just brought it up incidentally.) He said that he would probably raise her salary soon. You see he is an old friend of the Babcock family." "So I have heard." "Her salary is a little low, but I presume Jim never thought much about it, but since it has been called to his attention, I think he will raise it." "I thank you, Mr. Wilson." Harold could scarcely wait for night to come when he could call on Ruth. He was anxious to get business for himself, but he was more anxious that Ruth should receive an advancement in wages, not alone because she was a dear friend, but largely because he knew she had her heart set on sending her father to a specialist. Harold didn't believe that it would do him any good. He had talked with several local doctors who had examined him and they pronounced his case as hopeless. He knew, though, that Ruth would never be satisfied until she had sent her father to Dr. Lilly. That same evening when he called at the Babcock home he found Mr. Babcock on the porch, his head resting between his hands, his elbows on his knees. "Good evening, Mr. Babcock." "Good evening, Mr. King. Have a chair." "How are you feeling, Mr. Babcock?" "I am feeling better, but not very strong yet. I worry so much because I can't remember. If I could only get my memory back I believe I would be myself again." "Can't you remember anything that happened before the accident?" "No, nothing; except that I had a safe with money in it, but I can't remember where the safe was. I can remember part of the combination. It was two turns to the right then to the left to forty——" "How do you do, Harold." "Good evening, Ruth." "Here, take my chair, Ruth; I am going inside, if you will excuse me, Mr. King." "Ruth," said Harold, "I have something of interest to tell you. I heard it in the early afternoon and could scarcely wait until evening." "I have something of importance to talk to you about and am so glad you came, but first you tell me what you were going to tell of interest. You have my curiosity aroused, and you know that when a woman's curiosity is aroused she must know at once." "Here goes, then," he said, laughing. "I have reason to believe that you are going to have your salary increased." "That sounds good, but where did you get your information?" Harold then told her of his conversation with Wilson and of Wilson's report that Stover would probably raise her salary soon. "Oh, that will be fine! I thank you so much. I wouldn't have asked you and Mr. Wilson to have done so much, but since you have I certainly appreciate it. I am so anxious to see if anything can be done for father." "Well, here is hoping that you will get a raise within the next few days." "Will you please thank Mr. Wilson for me? What I wanted to talk to you about is the Ku Klux Klan." "That's a common subject of conversation nowadays. I hear it being discussed everywhere on the streets." "Mr. Stover called all the men employees of the bank into his office this evening and told them that any one and every one of them who joins the Ku Klux Klan will be discharged." "Are you sure of that?" "Yes, I heard two of the men speak of it after the meeting." "What are Stover's objections to the Klan?" "I do not know what he told the men, but I have heard him say that it is an organization of outlaws and that it is a great money-making scheme for the promoters. I told him that my grandfather had belonged to the old Ku Klux Klan in Virginia. He said that some good people had been connected with the old order but that this present organization is very different; that it has all of the vices and none of the virtues of the old order." "He may be right, and then again he may be wrong. There is going to be a public lecture four miles west of town Friday night and I am going to hear a representative of the organization explain it." "I don't think it will do you any harm to go and hear him, but I want you to promise me that you won't join. I have lots of confidence in Mr. Stover, and he says that when it becomes known that a man belongs to the Klan he will be branded in the community and never will have any standing again. You saw what the editor of the Journal had to say?" "Yes, but you can't always depend on what you see in a newspaper. Springer may have been sincere in his statement that the organization is a menace to America, but again he may be hired to say that, or he might be misinformed." "You also saw the statement of the mayor warning the public against joining the organization and telling the people that the police are amply able to enforce the laws?" "The mayor is a politician, and politicians do not like the rise of organizations that they cannot control for political purposes, as to the enforcement of the laws—if his police force are amply able to enforce the laws they had better get busy and do it. Case after case of law violation is brought to their notice and they refuse to act." "I was out riding with Chester Golter last night and——" "With whom?" Harold was more interested now than he had been in her discussion of the Klan. "Chester Golter." "Who is Chester Golter?" "He is our new bookkeeper, from Indiana. He is a nephew of Mr. Stover. What I started to tell you was that he said the Klan in his home town was composed of 'roughnecks' and thugs." "They may have had a hard bunch to choose from in his home town. Ruth, I do know this, that there are numbered among the Klansmen of the country judges, congressmen, ministers, doctors, lawyers, merchants and men from every vocation. I have this on good authority. It is quite likely that much of this adverse criticism comes from people who are misinformed or are natural enemies of the Klan." "Promise me, Harold, that you won't join." "Ruth, I can't promise you that, until I am convinced that this organization is detrimental to the best interests of America. I want to be a hundred per cent American, and I do not want to withhold my support from an organization that is for the good of my country." "You understand, Harold, that I am interested in you because you are my friend, and I do not want you to do anything that will impair your chances for success or injure your standing in the community." "I appreciate your interest, and I promise you that I will have nothing to do with this organization if I find on careful investigation that it is not lawful, has unworthy purposes and is composed of bad citizens." "I feel quite sure then you will not join, for when men like Stover condemn a movement the chances are it is dangerous and wrong." "I hope you will have the raise before I see you again. Good night." "Good night, Harold." As he walked to his room he was not in a pleasant frame of mind. He was concerned about what she had told him of the attitude taken by Stover toward the Klan, but he was worried most of all about Chester Golter, the nephew of Stover. Ruth had gone riding with him. He wondered what he was like. He knew he would not like him. He was sure of that. He was a little peeved that Ruth would go riding with him when he had been in town such a short time. He was a little fearful that his relationship with Stover might have undue weight with her. Chapter IV The Klan meeting held in the open was well attended. Stover, Springer and McBryan had predicted that there would be but few there. Contrary to their prediction, there were thousands present. Many came to this first public Klan meeting through curiosity; others came earnestly desiring to know something of this much talked of organization. The next time Harold saw Ruth after this meeting she asked, "Did you attend the Klan meeting?" "Yes, I was there and heard every word." "I heard there was a big crowd." "Yes, the crowd was estimated all the way from six to ten thousand." "Mr. Stover said that they were drawn there by curiosity and had no intention of joining. He also said there was a morbid curiosity to see some Kluxers in their robes." "If they came for that purpose they were not disappointed. There were twelve men in full regalia who passed application blanks." "I should have liked to have seen them." "Some time when there is another one we will go, if you care to." "Did you like the speech?" "Very much. He explained the thirteen points of Klanism." "Thirteen points, you say; may I ask what they are?" "Certainly. These principles are not kept secret. You have the same right to know of them that I have and the other thousands who heard the speech." He reached in his pocket and took out an inquiry blank with the thirteen principles of the Klan printed thereon and handed it to her. She took it and read aloud as follows: I am a "Native Born" American Citizen, having the best interests of my Community, City, State and Nation at heart, and believe in, viz: 1. The tenets of the Christian religion. 2. White supremacy. 3. Closer relationship between Capital and American labor. 4. Protection of our pure womanhood. 5. Preventing the causes of mob violence and lynchings. 6. Preventing unwarranted strikes by foreign labor agitators. 7. Prevention of fires and destruction of property by lawless elements. 8. The limitation of foreign immigration. 9. Closer relationship of pure Americans. 10. The up-holding of the Constitution of these United States. 11. The separation of church and state. 12. Freedom of speech and press. 13. The much needed local reforms. When she had finished reading, Harold asked, "What is the matter with those principles?" "Nothing at all so far as I can see, but I thought Jews and Catholics could not join. There is nothing said about either in these principles." "No, Ruth. The principles say nothing about either. The Jews cannot subscribe to the first one, the tenets of the Christian religion. The Jews do not believe in the Deity of Christ, consequently they are excluded from this organization." "That's so, but I do not see anything in these principles to exclude Catholics." "No; but the lecturer said that all candidates for membership in the Klan must, before they become members, be able to declare that they do not owe allegiance to any foreign power, either civil or ecclesiastical. Catholics cannot make this statement—as they owe allegiance to the Pope of Rome." "That makes it perfectly clear why both Roman Catholics and Jews are excluded, but will their exclusion not create bitter feeling and strife?" "It seems that the Klan has already aroused the antagonism of Catholics, and they are doing all they can to prevent its growth. But, Ruth, why should the Jews or Catholics object? The Jews have the B'nai B'rith organization and the Catholics have the Knights of Columbus. Protestant Gentiles are excluded from both of these organizations and do not object. I never heard of a Protestant condemning a Catholic for belonging to the Knights of Columbus." "Harold, what about the lawlessness of the Klan?" "You see by these principles that it is the purpose of the organization to put down crime and prevent violence and lynchings. The lecturer stated that in no instance had the Klan been convicted of crime." "The principles are good and the organization may be all right in practice, but some way, Harold, I can't help but wish that you would stay out of it. Maybe it is because I have so much confidence in Mr. Stover and he is so bitterly opposed to it." They were seated on a bench in the park. A dapper young man about Harold's age approached them and lifted his hat to Ruth. "How do you do, Miss Babcock." "Good evening, Mr. Golter, I want you to meet my friend, Mr. King." King stood and shook hands with him. The two men were about the same height, each standing a good six feet. King was the heavier and more rugged in appearance. "I heard that you were in town, Mr. Golter, but this is the first time I have had the pleasure of meeting you." "I have been quite busy in the bank since I arrived in Wilford Springs and have been able to meet scarcely anyone except those who work in the bank. I have had the pleasure of taking several rides with Miss Babcock." Ruth colored slightly. "You are related to Jim Stover?" "Yes, he is my uncle. Where are you from, Mr. King?" "I was born in Kentucky but came West with my parents when I was only nine years of age, hence I feel that I am of the West as much as if I had been born here." "This is my first experience west of the Mississippi. I was born and educated in Indiana." Golter, at King's invitation, took a seat on the bench. For some time they talked of the opportunities of the West compared to the East. Ruth was asked what she thought of the West as compared to the East. "I like the West," she said, "however, I do not know much of the East—except Virginia. I have been back there often to visit. It is a great place to be entertained;" and she discussed the hospitality of the people of the state of her ancestors at some length. She spoke in an interesting way of some of her visits to the old plantations. She was a pretty girl and had a dash and at the same time an air of refinement that made her very attractive. Several times while she was speaking King noticed Golter bestow admiring glances upon her in a way that told him that in Golter he had a rival; but that was no more than he had expected when Ruth spoke of having taken a ride with him a few evenings previous. "There is lots of excitement in town over the Ku Klux Klan," remarked Golter. "Yes. Were you out to hear the lecture?" "No, I wouldn't go to hear any of their lectures. I know too much about them." "You are acquainted with the activities of the Klan?" "Yes, the members in my home town were the lowest class." "Were you a member there?" There was a trace of sarcasm in King's voice. "Certainly not, sir," replied Golter with feeling. "How did you know then who were members?" "Well, I knew whom they said were members." "A matter of hearsay, then?" "Well, you might call it hearsay, but there are some things one is confident of though he is without positive proof. I know that the organization is lawless." "Now, that is what I would like to have proof of. How do you know?" "I read the exposure in Judson's International." "Aren't the Judson's publications Catholic?" "I believe they are." "Don't you think Judson's International might be a bit prejudiced?" "I don't think so. It's a great magazine. Well, I must be going. I will see you at the bank tomorrow," he said to Ruth. When Harold separated from Ruth at her home, she asked, "What do you think of Mr. Golter?" "To be frank," Harold replied, "I don't think much of him, that is, I am not favorably impressed.' "I think he's nice," she said, teasingly, and added, "don't you think he is good-looking?" "I think it's going to rain," Harold remarked and then told her good-night. Chapter V During the summer several public meetings of the Klan were held near Wilford Springs. Ruth accompanied Harold to one of these and remarked, when she saw some Klansmen in robes, "I would like to wear one of those myself. I think it would be fun!" However, she continued to express a desire that Harold would not become one of them, not that she did not believe that the principles were all right, but she heard so much adverse criticism of the Klan and condemnation of the men who were suspected as belonging that she was afraid that in some way he would suffer from joining. Occasionally it was reported that a fiery cross had been seen on mounds near the city, and a number of times passing cars had seen men in robes and masks guarding the entrance ways into woods or pastures. Springer continued to fire broadsides at the Invisible Empire through the columns of the Journal. He published all of the alleged reports of acts of lawlessness that he could secure from far and near. Occasionally he tried ridicule and referred to the Klansmen as the "boys who parade in nighties," and the "pillow slip boys." He said that there were only a few, a very few, in Wilford Springs, who belonged or who were in sympathy with them. The mayor of the city frequently warned the city employees that if it became known that any of them belonged to the Klan they would be dismissed from the employ of the city. One or two industrial plants gave like orders. As the spring election drew near there was a great deal of interest manifest, also a feeling of uncertainty pervaded the camp of the Stover-McBryan-Springer bunch who had dictated the politics of the city so long that they had come to regard their rights to dominate as inherent. There was the usual interest in the control of the affairs of the city and the public patronage, but in addition to that there was added interest because the city was to vote on the issuance of five hundred thousand dollar bonds for the purpose of erecting a municipal building and auditorium. One afternoon, about two months before the election date, McBryan was transacting some business in the Wilford Central State Bank. Stover noticed him at the cashier's window, and said, "Mac, when you're through there I would like to see you in the office." When McBryan came into the president's office, Stover said, "Do you realize that it's only two months until election?" "Yes, I know it, and we had better get busy at once." "Let's have a little caucus here in my office tonight and fix up a slate." "Whom shall we ask to be present?" "Not many. It doesn't take many to do the head work, we want the rabble to do the voting. I think we should have Hennesy; he controls the votes of the roughnecks, and Thompson should be invited." "Does Thompson want the nomination again for mayor?" "No, it would be useless for him to try again. There is too big a 'holler' about the non-enforcement of law. Abe Greene has announced himself as a law-enforcement candidate, and he will be a hard man to beat. We must get a man that there is nothing against. I told Thompson that he'd better not try it and that we would take care of him in some other way. Of course we want Springer present." "All right, you notify Thompson and Springer, and I will see Hennesy. What time shall we meet?" "Nine o'clock. We want to keep this meeting secret. There are a lot of people who resent slate fixing, but there must always be leaders." "Sure, there must be leaders," replied McBryan, as he left the room. That night McBryan, Hennesy, Springer, Thompson and Stover met in the bank office. "Let's see, are we all here? Here's Thompson, who has a big personal following, and Hennesy, who has a lot of good patrons whom he can control, Springer furnishes the publicity and shapes the opinions of the general public and McBryan represents the Catholic vote. We have a real lineup. They can't beat it," remarked Stover, rubbing his skinny hands together and smiling one of those hungry smiles of the avaricious before devouring a meal. "We need a good lineup," said Springer, "the insurgents are going to make a desperate effort to control the election and have put up a strong man for mayor." "That's so," replied Stover, "Abe Green will not be an easy man to beat. He has always trained with the prohibition crowd, and in addition to that he is a successful business man. What we must do is to get a candidate for mayor who can divide the dry vote with him." "We ought to have Isaac Goldberg here, too. We can't afford to neglect the Jews," said Springer. "That's right," Thompson affirmed. "We simply overlooked Goldberg. I will call him and ask him over." Stover went to the 'phone and called Goldberg, and in a few minutes the little Jew came puffing in. "Vat is it, vel, vel, vat is wrong? Has anytings happened to the monies market?" "No, Goldberg, there's nothing wrong with the money market. Stocks and bonds are steady." "Vat den, vat den?" "There is an election close on the way," explained Stover. "An election is it, vell?" "Yes," said Stover, "we've got a hard fight on. Greene has come out as a law enforcement candidate and we must get busy or he will be elected." "The Ku Klux Klan are getting strong, and of course they will be for Greene," Springer remarked. "No, the Ku Klux are not strong, they are veak, veak, I say." "I have an idea that there are more of them here than you think for, and we must be on the job or they will get control." "You say in your Journal that they are veak, very veak. Vy don't you tell the truth, Springer?" Goldberg was becoming excited. Springer laughed. "Goldberg, you don't always tell the truth to your customer when you try to sell him a suit of clothes." "Yes, yes, I tells dem shust the truth." "Wait a minute, Goldberg. I was in the store the other day and you sold a fellow a suit of clothes. When he asked you if it were a new suit you told him it was. Now, I happen to know that that suit was sold to you by a fellow that was hard up and it was a second-hand suit." "It would not have been goot bezness to tell it vas second-hand. It vas shust as goot as new." "Neither would it be good business for me to tell the public that the Klan is getting strong. There are always a lot of people who want to go with the crowd." The Jew laughed and slapped the editor on the back. "I see you vas a bezness man," he said. "Come, boys, let's get to business," said Stover. "What about the 'niggers'?" Thompson asked. "I'll handle the 'niggers'—just leave that to me. You never want to take a 'nigger' into your conferences. You don't want him to get the idea that he is of much importance. Decide what you want him to do and then tell him to do it. If necessary, bring pressure enough to bear on him to make him do it." "The question is, whom shall we put up for mayor? We want a man that there is nothing against but one who is not radical on anything," Springer remarked. "How would Bill Frazier be?" Thompson asked. "He would run well but he is pretty 'bull-headed.' We might have trouble with him after he was elected," Springer answered. "Fred Clark is a good, clean fellow, at any rate, no one has 'got anything on him,'" said Thompson. "Fine! He is good timber. He seldom expresses an opinion on anything," said Stover. "But do you know we can handle him?" McBryan asked. "Sure. He will be all right. He owes the bank seven thousand dollars—he couldn't afford to turn us down." It was agreed that Clark should be the candidate for mayor. McBryan was to run again for commissioner. A Jew was selected for a place on the ticket. When men had been selected for all the offices, Goldberg and Stover were appointed as the committee to get their consent. "Before you say anything to these men," McBryan advised, "I had better take the list to Father Rossini for his approval." This suggestion was well received by the others, and they agreed to meet the following night to hear McBryan's report from the priest. When they met the next evening McBryan reported that the priest was favorable to all of the selections except one, whom he knew to have expressed anti-Catholic sentiment. The name of this man was dropped and another substituted. During the following three weeks Springer announced the names of these men as candidates. It would not do to announce them all at once as the public might suspect a secret caucus. These leaders went to work at once to elect their candidates. Rastus Jones was the colored janitor of the Wilford Springs Central State Bank. He was a good janitor and prided himself on the fact that he was the janitor of the "biggest bank in Wilford Springs." Like most members of his race, he was superstitious and possessed an imagination that became very active under the stimulus of fear. "Rastus," said Stover as the janitor was straightening things in his office, "what do you think of the race for mayor?" "Law, Mistah Stover, I don't know much about elections. I ain't no politician." "What do the colored folks think of the candidates for mayor?" "I hears a heap o' them say that they's goin' to vote for Mistah Greene—that he's a powerful good man." "Do they talk that way, Rastus?" "Yes, sar, lots of them do." "Rastus, you tell your friends that if they vote for Greene they are working against their own interests. Greene is in favor of the Ku Klux Klan." "Fo' de Lawd's sake! You sholy don't mean dat, Mistah Stover!" Rastus dropped the waste basket which he held in his hand and threw up both hands. "Yes, that's a fact, Rastus, and you know what the Ku Klux Klan is." "Yes, sar; I's herd my ole father tell how they uster whip niggers down South afteh the wa'." "The new order is worse on colored men than the old one. I was reading where they took a colored man from his home the other night and whipped him—and then gave him a coat of tar and feathers, just because he had had a dispute with a white man over a bill that the white man owed him." "Is that a fac'?" "In many places they run the negroes out of the country." "Lawd help us! You sure that Mistah Greene is for the Ku Klux?" "Yes, there are a few of them here now and they are supporting him. If we can elect Clark we can see that they do not do any damage here. I advise you to tell your friends that if they want to get a flogging or swing from a tree some dark night just to go ahead and vote for Greene." "Say, Mistah Stover, you don't know nuffin' 'bout niggahs if you think they're goin' to vote fo' Greene after I tell 'em about them Kluxers." "Mr. Roberts is waiting out here to see you," one of the bookkeepers informed Stover as Rastus left his office. "Tell him to come in." Roberts was a small contractor who had a good reputation for honesty. "How are you, Roberts? Have a chair." "Thank you." "What can I do for you?" "I just wanted to talk with you a little while. What do you think of Clark's chance for election?" "Fine! I don't think there is any doubt about it. He has the support of all the good politicians." "If he is elected, he is willing to appoint me chief of police." "That suits me. You would be a good man for the place." "Clark says that campaign expenses are heavy and he would like to have me 'kick in' two hundred dollars." "That would be a safe investment." "The trouble is I am short at this time. I haven't the two hundred." "That's all right, you needn't let that worry you." Stover picked up his pen, took a promissory note from a pigeon hole and made it out for two hundred and passed it to Roberts, who signed it and received the money, which he contributed to the campaign fund. Chapter VI "Have a chair. I will call her," Clara Babcock said to the young man who had called and asked for Ruth. She went to Ruth's room where she was pounding away on a typewriter. Several months previous Ruth had been hopeful of securing a raise in salary but the raise had not come. When the second pay-day failed to bring the increase, she inserted an advertisement in the paper asking for stenographic work to be done of evenings. In this way she was able to earn from six to ten dollars a week toward a fund to send her father to Dr. Lilly. She was joyful every time she could add a dollar to this fund, although she knew that she was doing this extra work at the expense of her health. When her aunt entered her room she found Ruth playing a merry little tune on the typewriter. "Ruth, dear, there is a young gentleman here to see you." "Is it Mr. King?" "No, Mr. Golter. He is in his car. I suspect he has come to take you for a ride." "I haven't time to go riding. I have more work than I can get done by tomorrow night." "Ruth, you are sticking too close to your work. If you can't get the work out and take an hour or so for recreation you had better let it go until the next day." "I don't like to disappoint my customers." "I know you don't, dear, but it is not right for you not to take any recreation." "Well, if I take a little time off tonight maybe I can work a little longer and faster and make it up tomorrow night." "Tell him I will be in in a minute." Her aunt left to deliver the message, and Ruth looked at herself in the mirror, tucked in a few straggling wisps of hair, rubbed her face with her powder puff, but the tired expression would not rub off. It stared at her from the mirror. There was no disputing the fact that the home work after banking hours was telling on her. "Good evening, Mr. Golter," she greeted in a cheery voice when she entered the room where the young man was seated. "Good evening, Miss Babcock. I thought that perhaps you would like to take a ride." "I enjoy riding and would be pleased to go for a short ride. I have such a demand on my time that I cannot be out late." She walked to the far end of the living room where her father was seated with the evening paper. "Papa," she said, "I am going for a ride. I will not be gone long." "All right, Ruth. Good evening, Mr. Golter." "Good evening, Mr. Babcock." After riding a few minutes in the fresh air Ruth felt revived. "How invigorating the air is! It certainly refreshes one to ride in the fresh air when tired." "Yes, I couldn't get along without a car. That makes me think of it. You remember that fellow you introduced me to in the park—let's see, what is his name?" "Do you mean Mr. King?" "Yes, that's it—King. What I was going to tell you was that the Dodge Auto Sales Company are offering the car they sold him a few months ago, for sale at a bargain. It seems that they sold it to him on time and had to take it back. I should think it would be very humiliating to a man in business to have to do a thing of that kind." Ruth knew all about his car deal. Harold had told her. His uncle owed him two thousand dollars which was due three months after he purchased the car. He had expected to finish paying for it out of this. When the money came due his uncle had written him that he had been disappointed in some financial matters and that it would work a hardship on him to repay it at that time. Rather than work this hardship on his uncle he turned the car back and lost what he had paid on it. Ruth wondered whether Golter was simply telling this as a news item or whether he was seeking to belittle Harold. She feared the latter and felt a resentment rise within her. A desire to resent in strong language this slur aimed at her friend tugged at her heart strings, but she held herself in leash; her judgment told her that she might be mistaken as to his motive, but she was sure she saw in the remark the manifestation of littleness in Golter. |
|