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D.E. Ewart Surgeon, John McGowan Quartermaster. Cadets were sent from the Citadel as drill masters to all the regiments, and for six hours daily the ears were greeted with "hep-hep" to designate the "left" foot "down" while on the drill. It took great patience, determination, and toil to bring the men under military discipline.
It was evident that many were there, not for the service, but for what promised to be a sensational after-meeting. Members of the Athletic Club were scattered through the room, and the same dogged determination was on their faces as on the night of the boxing affair. Mr. McGowan hobbled up the pulpit stair. He announced his text: "Launch out into the deep and let down your nets."
Aides, with rank of Major: S.W. Melton, B.F. Withers, T.J. Davis, E.S. Hammond, S. Warren Nelson, Samuel Tompkins, W.P. Butler, M.B. Lipscomb. Colonel S. McGowan, Volunteer Aide. Dr. Reeves, of Virginia, was Brigade Surgeon. Colonels Morayne and Boylston remained only a few weeks.
Murphy sagged back against the wall and waited respectfully for her to disappear. McGowan did not alter his position nor did he remove his hat, though he waited until she had reached the landing before speaking again: "And now, what are you going to do, Mr. Breen?" he demanded in threatening tones. "Nothing," said Jack in his same even voice, his eyes never moving from the contractor's.
He cursed and went on dreadfully. The door was shut, but Garry heard him. Oh, Jack! what are we to do?" "Don't worry, Corinne; I'll take care of Mr. McGowan. I myself heard Garry tell him that he would attend to his payments in a few days, and he went away satisfied." "Yes, but McGowan says he has been to the bank and has also seen the Rector, and will stop at nothing."
They landed, searched everywhere, particularly the house, premises and surroundings of Jack Powers' residence. Powers and McGowan both well knew that catching meant hanging beyond all hope. After a thorough quest Curtis and his armed band gave up the hunt and returned to San Francisco. At Powers' home they had searched every place except that in which McGowan was concealed.
"Are you trying to tell me that Harry's got the gossiping fever?" "Not only that, but what he's saying is pure lies. I can't see why he wants to do other people's dirty work," complained the unhappy woman. "I cal'late you'd best give me some idea about this here yarn he's spinning, so's I can lay for him with a spike." "It's about Mr. McGowan, and what he's telling ain't true, and I know it!"
We are putting in overtime on it to-night in the way of gasfitting. You know, Handy," said McGowan, confidentially, "these gasfitters, like plumbers, are curious critters and need watching, and I'm going to have them work night and day until they get through. I wouldn't, between ourselves, have this anniversary celebration fall through for any amount of money, but " "Ah! I was expecting that."
"I acknowledge that, Dad, but the closet idea suggested it to my mind. Then, perhaps, it's not a bad idea for Mr. McGowan to know the worst side of me first. I spent about a week in that hole they called a prison," he said turning to the minister, "and seven days there couldn't be very easily effaced from my memory unless I went bugs and had an awful lapse.
McGowan holds ideas that are too far advanced for our humble little church. We must not overlook the fact that we hold sacred some of the things to which he flippantly referred to-night, and it is our duty to protect er the sacred doctrines which have been handed down to us from the more sacred memory of our fathers and martyrs of the past.
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