Chapter XVI

 SHE was a slip of a girl—not more than sixteen years of age. She had boarded the early morning train at a little station and took a seat on the east side of the coach where she sat looking at the first rays of approaching day, oblivious of the other passengers in the coach.
A man of perhaps twenty-eight or thirty years walked through the coach several times looking attentively at the women passengers. He was well dressed and of medium size. The bill of his cap was pulled well down and shaded his weak eyes. There was a narrow, pinched look about his mouth and chin.
After several trips up and down the aisles he stopped in front of the seat in which this young girl was seated and asked, "Miss, is this seat taken?" The girl turned her face suddenly from the window and hesitatingly replied, "No, it's not taken." The man sat down. He at once proceeded to engage the girl in conversation. At first she was very shy, but gradually her timidity wore off and she talked freely.
She told him that she was an orphan, her mother having died when she was five years old. She had been raised by her grandmother in a little country town. Her grandmother had recently died and left her without any living relatives. She had worked for two weeks in the restaurant in the little town and had decided to go to the city to seek employment.
"Do you know where you are going to work?" he asked.
"No, I don't."
"Have you any acquaintances in the city?"
"No, I do not know anyone there. I am afraid I will feel pretty much alone."
"A pretty girl like you ought not to be long in getting some friends."
"I never was in a city and I am a little afraid."
"I live in the capital city," said the man. "I am well acquainted there. I can help you get a job. Not long ago I helped a girl who was a stranger in the city get a good job. I landed it for her the next day after she arrived. She thinks I'm the 'hot stuff' and she's a cute little dear—just about your size but not so pretty as you are. Say, girlie, it's lucky you met me, for I can sure land you a good job."
"Oh, thank you! I am so glad, for I have money to keep me but a short time without working."
"Do you know where you are going to board?"
"No, I want to get a good clean place that is not too expensive."
"There is a good room vacant where I board. It's the best place in the city for the money."
"How much is the board per week?"
"Seven dollars a week for both room and board."
"That's cheaper than I hoped to get it."
"I tell you there is not another place like it in the city."
"Is it a respectable place?" she asked.
"Oh, yes; it's the finest kind of a place. The land-lady is very particular whom she takes in. I'll recommend you and you'll get in all right."
She felt more comfortable now that she had found someone who was acquainted where she was going and would help her.
He talked to her of the city and the things of interest. Especially did he dwell on the attractiveness of the cabarets and the public dance halls. After a half hour of this talk intended to inflame her imagination and stimulate a desire for the amusements of the city, he said, "Do you know I never before met a girl I thought so much of in so short a time. It's a case of love at first sight with me, dear." He took her hand in his. She drew it away gently.
In the seat behind them was a young man who had heard the entire conversation. This young man was a very different type from the one in the seat in front of him with the girl. He was of a stronger build, his face more refined and intellectual. His eyes were not dull and lids drooping, as were the other's, but wide open and bright. This young man was clean of mind and attractive in appearance. He had one sister who was about the age of this girl when he last saw her. (That had been several years ago.) He remembered that his mother had said, "Son, remember to treat every girl like you would want your own sister treated." A man never gets entirely away from the influences of a Christian home and the teachings of a good mother. This young man had recently had another experience that had made a profound impression. He had taken a solemn and sacred obligation to protect pure womanhood. Kneeling beneath the star-lit heavens his life had been dedicated in prayer to the service of Christian civilization, and among the things enumerated to which he dedicated his life was the protection of women.
Harold King, the Klansman, spoke, "Young lady, do you know this man?" The man in the seat with the girl turned and cast a side glance at Harold from under the bill of his cap.
"No, sir," she answered.
"Never saw him or heard of him until he sat down beside you?"
"No, sir."
"Then my advice to you is to let him alone."
"I'm jest wantin' to help the girl," the man in the seat with her drawled.
"Young lady, my advice to you is that when you get to the union station you place yourself under the protection of the police woman and ask her to see that you get to the Y.W.C.A. headquarters. The secretary of the Y.W.C.A. will help you find a boarding place and secure employment."
"Thank you."
Harold leaned back in his seat and there was silence in the seat ahead. After a time the man with the girl whispered something to her that Harold could not hear, and got up and went into the smoker. The news agent came through the car calling the morning paper. Harold purchased one and was soon absorbed in its pages and thought no more of the girl and the man who had the looks and used the methods of the procurer.
When the porter called the union station the girl was soon out of her seat and well down the aisle so that when Harold stood to leave the car there were several people between them.
When Harold stepped off of the coach he saw the weak-eyed, pinched face man, who had been one of the first off the smoking car, approach the girl and offer to take her grip. She informed him that she could carry it, but he took hold of it and fairly pulled it away from her. With the other hand he took her by the arm as he said, "Come on, dear, you mustn't try to get out of here alone. I will take care of you." She pulled back and he was pleading with her to go with him when Harold interfered. "You let go of that girl and hand her back her grip at once," he demanded.
The man dropped the girl's arm and faced Harold. "Is this any of your damn business?" he asked.
"It certainly is, and my advice to you is to go while you are all together and have your freedom of action." Harold spoke in a voice that convinced the offender that he meant business. He glanced at Harold's athletic proportions, then turned and hurried down the gangway.
Harold conducted the girl to the station police woman in whose charge he left her after being assured that the police woman would see that she had a safe escort to the Y.W.C.A.
Harold found Mr. Welty an affable business man, and he had not conversed with him long until he had gained his confidence. Mr. Welty was pleased for the most part with the plans which Harold submitted, but asked that some changes be made. Harold went to his room at the hotel and went to work. The next day he had completed floor plan drawings according to Mr. Welty's directions. When he showed him the revised drawings, Mr. Welty was greatly pleased.
"That's fine, Mr. King; there are just one or two minor changes to be made and you can do that when you get up the complete plans. Now if we can get together on terms we are ready to build a hotel."
When Harold King boarded the train for home that night he was happy. He had landed a job that would pay him twelve thousand dollars, and on the trip had rendered protection to a friendless girl. He felt the joy that comes to one who has acted honorably from unselfish motives. The Klan motto, "Non Silba Sed Anthar" (Not for self but for others), was growing in its significance for him as mottoes and principles always grow as they are worked out in acts.
When Harold got off of the train at Wilford Springs he met the Reverend Earl Benton. "Hello, Harold, how are you?"
"How are you, Doctor? I am feeling fine. Just had some good luck."
"Is that so? I am mighty glad to hear it."
"Yes. I just landed a big job. I am going to do the architectural work for a big hotel in our capital city."
"Fine, fine! Allow me to congratulate you." The minister wrung his hand earnestly. "Are you just returning from the city?"
"Yes, I have been gone a couple of days."
"Have you heard the news?"
"What news?"
"The facts about the mobbing of Rastus Jones."
"No; what about it?"
"It was nothing but a prank pulled off by a girl."
"How do you know?"
"The young lady made an affidavit stating that she was the perpetrator of the joke and published the affidavit in The Eagle."
"Who was the young lady?"
"Let's see. I don't recall her name just now. She works in the Wilford Springs Central State Bank."
"It surely wasn't Miss Babcock?"
"Yes, that's the girl—Ruth Babcock."
Harold felt a dizzy sensation. Could it be possible that Ruth had been the one who had subjected the Klan to all this criticism. He couldn't believe it.
"There must be some mistake," Harold ventured.
"No, there's no mistake. It has made Springer the laughing stock of the town."
"What do—the—the Klansmen think of Ruth, I mean Miss Babcock?"
In this last question Harold revealed anxiety, and the minister's quick perception told him that there was an interest, other than his interest in the Klan, back of the question.
"Oh, the boys think that it is great of her to have the courage to come out in the paper and put the Klan in the clear."
"But what about her having pulled this stunt in the first place and thereby brought reproach on the Klan? Do they criticize her for that?"
"No. Everybody knows that she did not do it for that purpose."
"Where can we get a paper?" Harold asked.
"There's a news stand in the middle of the next block."
When they reached the news stand Harold asked for the Eagle of the previous day's issue. The news dealer informed him that he was sold out, that he could have sold twice as many Eagles of the issue asked for if he had had them.
"Let's go into this jewelry store and see if they have one," said the minister.
"Have you a last night's Eagle?" Harold asked.
"I believe there is one around here some place," the jeweler replied.
After a brief search he found it. The article read:
"A circumstance which occurred recently has been erroneously reported by the press, and an organization which is in no sense responsible for this incident has been blamed. Being in full possession of the facts in the case and not wishing to injure a worthy organization or the public, I feel it is my duty to tell under oath the facts concerning the Rastus Jones affair which occurred on October 3, 1922."
Ruth Babcock.
Then followed the oath:
"Ruth Babcock appeared before me, a notary public, and first being duly sworn, deposes and says:
"On the night of October 3rd, 1922, I hid behind the elevator in the Wilford State Bank for the purpose of frightening one Rastus Jones, a negro. I was clad in my usual attire with the addition of a sheet wrapped around me and a mask made of a pillow slip over my face. When Rastus Jones came down the corridor and was near the elevator I stepped in front of him and he uttered an exclamation and began to back off. I followed him. I was not armed with a revolver or any other weapon. I did point my finger at him under the sheet. I did not threaten his life. I referred to some church trouble of which I had heard him speak. I told him I would give him one more chance but did not threaten to injure him in any way. I was entirely alone. My only motive was amusement. No one but myself was directly or indirectly responsible."
Ruth Babcock.
"Subscribed and sworn to before me, a notary public in and for the County of Rush, this 12th day of October, 1922."
John P. Snider.
"My commission expires January 1st, 1924."
When Harold had finished reading, Reverend Benton remarked, "That certainly puts the Klan in the clear."
"I should say so," said the jeweler, "but it gives Springer a black eye as a news agent."
"His report of this incident was just about as reliable as most of the news reports found in his paper," Harold remarked.
Isaac Goldberg, whose place of business was next door to the jewelry store, had dropped in about the time Harold was through reading the affidavit. "I tell you vat I dink—the Klan or some von hired that girl to make the affidavit?"
Harold whirled around and faced the Jew, his face flushed and an angry light flashed from his eyes. He felt a strong desire to knock him down, but he controlled himself, and looking the little Jew straight in the eye, said, "Goldberg, I know this girl, and there isn't any man or group of men who could bribe her to make an affidavit to an untruth, and I warn you that you better not make a statement of that kind in my presence again or where it reaches me."
"Oh, of course I knows notings, notings at all about the young leddy. I shust think there is sometings wrong." The Jew gestured excitedly with both hands.
"You are like a great many others who speak from prejudice and not from knowledge," said Harold.
"No, no, no," said the Jew, "I have not prejudice." Turning to Reverend Benton, he said, "You are a Klansman. I shust like to ask you von question."
"Very well. What is it?"
"Vy have you this Klan that won't admit Jews?"
"Before I answer that I want to ask you one. Why have you Jews the B'nai B'rith organization that does not admit Gentiles to membership?"
"The B'nai B'rith is a strictly Jewish fraternity."
"And the Ku Klux Klan is a strictly Gentile organization. It is necessary to be a native born American Gentile who believes in the tenets of the Christian religion to become a member of the Ku Klux Klan, just as it is necessary to be a Jew in order to join the B'nai B'rith, a Roman Catholic to join the Knights of Columbus, or a negro to join the African Brotherhood."
"I must go back to mine store," said the Jew, and he hurried out.
"Harold," said the minister, as they stepped out on the street, "this affidavit is going to be a great help to us in the approaching election. A lot of good people will have their suspicions removed by that affidavit."
"There is no doubt of it," Harold replied. "I turn off here. Good-night, Doctor."
"Good-night."