"We 've got five thousand dollars that the bureau's made for us. It seems to me that 's enough to start with," replied Craigin.

"Five thousand dollars!" exclaimed Pemberton. "Would you put all that into this club?"

"Why not? It is n't more than one man in comfortable circumstances would put into a house. We could n't fit up an attractive saloon with less, and we've got to have more room than a saloon has. We've got to have lots of room, all the appointments-plain, but comfortable-of a good club, a parlor with piano, carpets, and pictures, a gymnasium, smoking-, reading-, and billiard-rooms, a café. All these things cost money. We've got to have a good manager at a living salary. We've got to do the square thing if we're to make a success of it and make it pay."

"Make it pay!" cried Bradford and Pemberton together.

"We've made the hotel and bureau pay," replied Craigin. "We 'll make this pay. Men who 've spent dollars every week in saloons won't kick over as much every month for something better; if they do they 're not worth saving. We must n't treat them like paupers. It won't do to make them objects of charity. Suppose the dues are only a dollar a month; the billiard-tables will earn a good deal, and coffee, icecream, soda, mineral waters, cigars, tobacco, and the like will bring in a good deal more."

"Would you sell tobacco and cigars?" asked Pemberton.

"Yes, if smoking is allowed on the premises-and men won't come together if they can't smoke."

"But lots of people will think it is n't consistent to sell tobacco and keep others from selling beer."

"Of course! But we draw a line between tobacco and beer. If it's right to use a thing, it must be right to sell it. If it's wrong to sell it, it must be wrong to use it. The two things go together; you can't separate them. I don't see how a man who drinks can say a word against a man for selling without condemning himself."

The Apsleigh Brotherhood became a great success. Men who went from curiosity and because they had nowhere else to go stayed because they liked it. It was the history of the Reform Club repeated on a larger scale. Craigin won their hearts before they knew it, and those who could and those who could not understand his self-sacrifice and moral heroism loved the friendly grip of the scarred hand that had smashed the ruffian's jaw.

Meanwhile other work was going on. Through all the instrumentalities at its command the League was secretly and systematically finding out how each man in the county stood, what sort of a man he was, and, if he were with them, what he could best do. Captains were chosen, the county was divided into military districts, and secret records began to show who, in every hamlet, in every farm-house, would answer the call to arms on the day of battle that was approaching.

VII

IN ITS MAJESTY

R. CHARLES BYRD was the leading druggist in Apsleigh.

M

was passing.

"That young man is not adapted to this latitude," he remarked one day, as Craigin

"Neither was Jesus Christ," replied a customer. Byrd raised his eyebrows with an expression of pious horror.

"If

"I mean what I say," continued the customer. Christ had n't hit the scribes and Pharisees and rulers of the synagogue he 'd have been the most fashionable preacher of the day instead of the Crucified One, the Light of the Ages. The same class that hunted him to death would drive Craigin out of town if they could!"

"Why," exclaimed Byrd, "I-I thought you were one of the old board of aldermen ?"

"So I was, but I had the honor to belong to the minority that did n't vote to perjure themselves."

Ex-Alderman Capen, having made his purchase and freed his mind, went out; and Mr. Byrd inwardly

thanked God that he, Mr. Byrd, was not a sinner like other men, and, above all, that he was not guilty of blasphemy like Mr. Capen. Mr. Byrd was a pillar in one of the churches. He lived on Apsleigh Avenue, was a director in a bank, and, while not rich in the sense that Denman was, could have put up collateral for a hundred thousand dollars and still have had a modest competence left. Mr. Byrd had thought it proper to proceed against Bridget Maloney, who had sold uncommonly poor whisky to uncommonly disreputable customers. He had approved the suppression of the sneak-holes and the pocket-bottle trade, on high moral grounds as well as for pecuniary reasons incident to his business. If anything further was to be done, the prosecution of Denman was unavoidable, for he had handled, either wholesale or retail, most of the liquor drunk in the county. The enforcement of law against Mr. Byrd's drug store, sumptuous with plateglass and mahogany, was, in Mr. Byrd's opinion, quite a different matter.

The "drought" had caused a great demand for "medicine." Mr. Byrd was a law-abiding druggist with customers who, he thought, might talk too freely or stagger into the clutches of the police. He sold to others as "a special favor," and, as these "special favors" were somewhat hazardous, charged accordingly. The proscription of the regular trade brought thousands of dollars to him.

One day he received an invitation to appear before the police court, and although the occasion was not festive nor the company select, it could not be declined. He paid his fifty dollars and costs, and was warned

that the next time it would be imprisonment. After that he sold "medicine" more cautiously. It went by all sorts of innocent names. He did not put the store label on the bottles. He wrapped them in white paper, guiltless of printers' ink, and hid them in a dark corner of the cellar. It was months before he was again molested. The business was so profitable that his avarice got the better of his discretion and he began to conduct it on a larger scale. "They won't dare to shut me up," he said to himself. "If I'm caught, I'll only get a hundred dollars and costs." At last he received a second invitation, which ominously set forth the record of the preceding one and what had come of it.

"We 'll plead nolo, pay the hundred dollars and costs, and end it in the police court," said Woods, in a private interview with the county attorney.

"Can't think of it," replied Strickland.

"Surely you don't mean to insist on imprisonment?"

"That's just what I shall insist on if he's convicted." So Mr. Byrd pleaded "Not guilty," and was bound over to the county court close at hand.

His case had been anxiously discussed before the second complaint was made.

"The geyser formations at the Yellowstone National Park are as delicate as they are beautiful," said Har"You can destroy in a minute what it would take a hundred years to replace. Every one who enters the park is presented with a copy of the rules for their preservation, on which is conspicuously printed, 'These rules will be enforced.' The day be