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Updated: June 10, 2025
He took pains to indulge in profanity and obscenity before Tom, and received the full reward he sought when he saw how much his course grieved him. Finally Tom struck the remedy. It was simple. He showed perfect indifference toward his persecutor. When Zeigler made a cutting remark, he acted as if he did not hear him.
His aid was not necessary, and, again, he knew it would not be acceptable to his discomfited antagonist. "A rather neat blow, Zeigler," remarked Tom; "when you wish to even up matters, I will be ready to accommodate you." It sounded strange to the other clerks to hear the gentle Tom Gordon speak thus to the young man who had played the bully so long over him.
Nothing much came of this conference, except that they sat about discussing in a general way wards, pluralities, what Zeigler was likely to do with the twelfth, whether Pinski could make it in the sixth, Schlumbohm in the twentieth, and so on. New Republican contestants in old, safe Democratic wards were making things look dubious.
They concluded that the crushed worm had at last turned. The vanquished one made no reply except to give the other a look of hatred, and leave the room. Now, there is not one person in a thousand who would not have been conquered morally as well as physically by an experience like that of Max Zeigler.
He continued his conversation with another; and though his enemy repeated his words, they did not seem to enter the ears of Tom. Even when Zeigler put a question direct to him, it was ignored. It then became the turn of Zeigler to flush at the general smile that went round. At last he had been rebuffed.
"A bad day, this, for me, friend Mignot," said Zeigler, spreading his hands, "for I perceive that I must sell you a weapon that will not fetch a tenth of its value. Only last I week I bought from a peddlar a wagon full of goods that he procured at a sale by a commissionaire of the crown.
One afternoon, when there was little custom in the store, Tom entered one of the rear rooms, where were Zeigler and two other clerks. The fellow's heart rankled at the snubbing he had received, and he was plotting some way of "getting even" with the sanctimonious fellow, who would never swear or indulge in a coarse word. "This is just the place for a wrestling match," remarked Zeigler.
We give here some hints on one case the full explanation of which would need as large a volume as this volume is. During the building of Etzler's machine George Karle found John Zeigler in a hermitage in which he employed one half of his time to chopping wood and the other to studying the Bible and to prepare for a happy home in the spirit world.
"All right; we'll see. Now do your best, for I mean to throw you just as I did a minute ago. Are you ready?" "Of course I am; go ahead." Zeigler was not lacking in a certain skill. The lesson he had just received was not lost on him. He was cautious, tricky, and alert more so than Tom suspected, and he put forth the utmost cunning of which he was capable.
He started, but he was pushed into the Ohio River in the night of the 10th of April, 1850, between 11 and 12 o'clock by a papist instigated by the power of darkness. The whole conspiracy was then detected to us; but we committed the murderer to the Judgment of the Heavenly Court, and Zeigler continues to work with us amongst the departed.
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