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Updated: October 21, 2024


Sure enough, there it was: SAFE ROBBED IN WALL ST. OFFICE Door Into Office of Langhorne & Westlake, Brokers, Forced and Safe Robbed. One of the strangest robberies ever perpetrated was pulled off last night in the office of Langhorne & Westlake, the brokers, at- Wall Street, some time during the regular closing time of the office and eight o'clock. Mr.

Samuel Langhorne Clemens impressed me as the most complete and human individual I have ever known. He was not a great thinker; his views were not "advanced". The glory of his temperament was its splendid sanity, balance, and normality.

"What's up, Ike?" demanded Langhorne suspiciously. Craig looked at me significantly. It was Ike the Dropper! The other lowered his voice. "I don't mind telling you, Mr. Langhorne. You're in the organization and we ain't got no grudge against you. It's Carton."

War having been declared in the name of the Florida Indians, a detachment of volunteers with some regulars, under General Duncan L. Clinch, moved to the Ouithlacoochee, the Indian encampment. Three days before the event which will be described as occurring at Ouithlacoochee, Major Francis Langhorne Dade, with a small command, had moved from Fort Brooke to relieve the post of Fort King.

Kennedy shook his head non-committally. "I don't know. They are worried. It doesn't look as though they, at least, had the record that is, if Langhorne has really lost it." I wondered whether Langhorne might not, after all, as Kennedy had hinted, have concealed it elsewhere. The activity of Dorgan and Murtha might indicate that they knew more about the robbery than appeared yet on the surface.

Of course, we did not and could not know what was going on behind the scenes with the Silent Boss, what drama was being enacted between Dorgan and the Wall Street group, headed by Langhorne. Langhorne himself was inscrutable. I had heard that Dorgan had once in an unguarded moment expressed a derogatory opinion of the social leanings of Langhorne.

We can scarce credit how noblemen like Lord Stafford, ecclesiastics like Archbishop Plunkett, and commoners like Langhorne and Pickering, were dragged to death on the testimony of the vilest of the vile, without a voice being raised in their behalf; or how it could be considered a patriotic act on the part of an English Protestant to carry a flail loaded with lead beneath his cloak as a menace against his harmless neighbours who differed from him on points of doctrine.

On the 6th of December he protested with three other peers against the measure sent up from the Commons enforcing the disarming of all convicted recusants and taking bail from them to keep the peace; he was the only peer to dissent from the motion declaring the existence of an Irish plot; and though believing in the guilt and voting for the death of Lord Stafford, he interceded, according to his own account, with the king for him as well as for Langhorne and Plunket.

He inquired about Father Langhorne, and found he had been educated in Paris, and was really a Roman priest. Perhaps it was the province of childhood to see good in everybody. Or was it due to the simple life, the absence of that introspection, which had already done so much to make the New England conscience supersensitive and strenuous.

"Because I've been looking for a chance to have a quiet word with you," the man rejoined. "Langhorne and Mrs. Ogleby," cried Craig excitedly. "Sh!" I cautioned, "they might hear us." He laughed. "Not unless I turn the switch further." "I saw you down at the Criminal Courts Building this morning," went on the man, "but you didn't see me. What did you think of Carton?"

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