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Also there were dog kennels with many dozens of strange breeds. "Father got those for me," said young Lockman. "He thought I'd be interested in agriculture." "Well, aren't you?" asked Samuel. "Not very much," said the other carelessly. "Here's Punch what do you think of him?" The occasion for this was a dog, the most hideously ugly object that Samuel had ever seen in his life.
"Steering the grafters off the Lockman preserve. Getting the right men named by the machine, and putting up the dough to elect them. Last year the Democrats got in, in spite of all he could do; and he had to buy the city council outright." "What!" gasped the boy in horror.
In the news columns of the paper they found the explanation of the calamity old Henry Lockman had dropped dead of apoplexy at the climax of his career, and the bears had played havoc with "Glass Bottle Securities." Their three thousand dollars was gone.
"He's just off a farm," said Lockman. "He was on his way to New York to make his fortune. And think of it, Glad, he'd been robbed, and he'd been wandering about town begging for work, and he was nearly starving." "You don't say so!" gasped the girl. She took a chair and indicated to Samuel to sit in front of her.
"I knew just what would happen," said the other. "But I thought I'd let you see for yourself." "But what does it mean?" demanded the boy. "It means," was the answer, "that the Lockman estate has a mortgage of one hundred thousand dollars on the Express." And Samuel's jaw fell, and he stood staring at his friend. "Now you see what it is to be a Socialist!" laughed Everley. And Samuel saw.
"So there's plenty of men looking for jobs in Lockmanville,". the other continued, "an' some of the other factories is closed, too the cotton mill is only runnin' half time." "I see." "Old Lockman used to say there was too many glass works," the barkeeper added. "An' the fellers he bought out went an' built more. So there you are." There was a pause.
With all the power of his being Samuel was seeking for excellence; and a great and wise man had explained to him what were the signs by which this quality was known. And in the "struggle for existence" old Henry Lockman had succeeded more than any other man of whom Samuel had ever heard in his life. He owned these huge glass works, and many others all over the country.
"Lockmanville!" he gasped. "Yes," said the other. "Don't you know where you are?" "I didn't know," said the boy. "Lockmanville! The one where the big glass works are?" "That's the one." "And where old Henry Lockman lived!" "What about it?" asked the other. "Nothing," said Samuel, "only my father invested all his money in Lockman's company, and lost it." "Gee!" said the bartender.
It was the beautiful and radiant creature who had kissed Bertie Lockman; her face was now flushed with drink and distorted with rage her hair disheveled and her aspect wild; and she was screaming in the voice which had first startled Samuel. Bertie had grappled with her and was trying to push her out of the room, while she fought frantically, and screamed: "Let me go! Let me go!"
There is another, called the Speech and dying words of John Dalgleish, lockman alias hangman of Edinburgh, containing these lines: "Ay; if I waited in the Tolbooth here to have him fit my cravat but that's an idle way o' speaking, Mr. Sharpitlaw." "Why, I suppose you know you are under sentence of death, Mr. Ratcliffe?" replied Mr. Sharpitlaw.
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