pour of rain, with the result that instead of the temperature at Las Vegas being 128 degrees as on the day previous, it was but 94 on our arrival. We had a warm meeting there.

Then we were off for California. We are never likely to forget passing through those beautiful mountains and valleys, during the sunset and the twilight. Words can convey no idea of it, and so it's no use talking. We had a great welcome at San Bernardino. The local comrades had put their all upon the altar, and it turned up trumps. The metaphor's mixed, but so were the feelings of the Democrats and the Republicans when they caught sight of that parade, and saw the crowded hall-paid admission, mark you!-and heard how much collection respectable "Sanbadoo" had put up for the spread of "these pernicious Socialist doctrines."

"Sanbadoo" struck the keynote for California. At San Diego was that never-to-be-forgotten open air meeting, where 14,000 people assembled and paid, mark you!-to hear Austin Adams and A. M. Simons and Eugene Debs. And they all did hear. For the open-air acoustics of that natural amphitheatre were perfect. Los Angeles and San Francisco followed suit with enormous gatherings and great collections for the Red Special, so that Manager Harry Parker had to be provided with a bodyguard to escort him and his precious burden to the train. At the University of California at Berkeley, there was a mild “divarshun" by the questions asked the candidate by an evidently sincere inquirer. "But if these things are against the Constitution, what do you propose to do about it?" asked the gentleman. Of course, that was dead easy. "Why, just abolish the Constitution," said Gene with a smile. And that great crowd in the Greek Theatre just opened their heads wide in appreciation.

The personality of Eugene V. Debs was a considerable factor in the campaign. From being the most maligned man in the country he is to-day the most loved. A book could be filled with the pathetic incidents that occurred of the people's devotion to this man. Many a time we had literally to fight to get him out of the roughly-tender hands of the crowds. We have almost despised ourselves when doing it, as we have caught sight of many a young face-aye, and many a time-seared face-with that inexpressible ardour and zeal and affection in their eyesthe spirit of the enthusiast without which revolutions could never be. Many were content if they could only get near enough to Gene to touch him. These were anxious times for the "brother's keepers", because Gene was as eager as the comrades to fraternize. But while their minds were harassed by their responsibility, their hearts were gladdened that the man who had

been so long persecuted was at last coming into his own. The American movement is indeed fortunate in its candidate.

I remember talking to a man out West-a middle-aged man of business, with a family, and not an irresponsible fanatic. He carried on his hip an automatic Colt, and almost blushed to confess that he still carried a gun. He had carried one ever since

the days when a gun was a necessary article of wearing apparel; and I suppose if he were to go without it now he would most likely catch cold. This man's love for Debs was a passion. We were talking about the many leaders of the people who had been maltreated by capitalist thugs, and this man of the West said, "I often feel that some day they will do something to Gene. They

are more afraid of him now than ever." With his teeth almost clenched, and placing his hand significantly on his hip, he added, "But, by God, the man who hurts Gene, wherever he be, has got to answer to me personally!" And I believed him.

We had to save Debs from his friends. When he was not dictating to his long-suffering Brother Theodore, or speaking, he was ordered rest, and his stateroom door was locked. Hundreds of men and women have come on the train at various points, and begged and pleaded just for a hand-shake with Gene-"Nothing more, on my oath!"-and they invariably had to be denied. This indeed, was the "unkindest cut of all." Most of us shrank from it, and the distressing work of disappointment these comrades fell upon Stephen Reynolds. Most of the applicants took their medicine manfully; but it was very, very hard, and very, very bitter. I have seen many a workingman, who had perhaps looked forward for weeks to grasping Gene's hand, when it was explained to him that the candidate was resting, swing round on his heel and march out of that car, with perhaps only the faintest touch of a tear in the corner of his eye to indicate how much it cost him.

One old man-I believe it was at Grand Junction—had come many miles to greet the candidate. When he arrived at the train Gene was sleeping prior to the evening meeting, and it was not until after the meeting, and Gene had got back to the Pullman, that the old man caught him alone. And there, between the double row of bunks, these two great souls put their arms about each other; and the old man, with tears trickling on to his white beard, told Gene how long he had loved him from afar. I was busy at the other end of the car, but I got out-I just couldn't stand it.

We were sorry to have to part with Comrade Simons at Frisco. Then we hauled on board Harry McKee. Simons had been general utility man so far as managing the day meetings concerned. He was on a beggage wagon and barking before the brakes of the train had done squeaking. Tabloid talks were the order of the day, with a band concert thrown in; and therefore we were a little anxious when our hustler had to leave us. But bless your life, Harry McKee had only to take a couple of bites, and then he came up smiling; and for ever afterwards he could not be suppressed.

Those were splendid meetings at Portland and Seattle; and indeed all the way up the Pacific Coast. It was nothing unusual on the day stops for a town to close up stores and come down en masse to the depot. You see, a Presidential candidate, alive and very much kicking, did not come their way every day.

And what do you think of Everett's effort? Thousands of people crowded into a hall for a meeting in the wee sma' hours of the morn. Why, it was like a religious revival, where I understand they always sing "We won't go home till morning."

Soon we were in the mining districts that have been making history during recent years. Wardner and Wallace had great day meetings. There is no half-heartedness about those miners, I tell you; and America will hear from them again before very long. At Mullan, Idaho, we had to leave McKee, and our hearts were sore; but we left him among friends in those mountain wilds.

Then we had trouble with Hill's railroad, and our train was delayed hours. Instead of reaching Missoula, Montana, in the afternoon, it was pitch dark at night before we got there; and then we wondered what we were up against. The people were at the depot in thousands, and it was so dark that we could not see the edge of the crowd. They were keeping the red flag flying in very deed. We are never likely to forget the man with the red flag. It was about as big as he could manage; but there was a look in his eyes and in his moustache that boded ill for any man rash enough to touch that flag.

Now there had been a strike at Butte. The Red Special was due there for a night meeting. The presence of the Red Special and of Eugene Debs was undesirable-from the capitalist point of view. And the Red Special just didn't get to Butte until six o'clock next morning. The local comrades, however, held the fort until after midnight, and demonstrated that the Socialist movement is not necessarily a one man show.

Sheridan and Billings were visited, and then we had one of the finest meetings of the campaign at Lead, where Comrade Freeman Knowles, much persecuted by the capitalists and much beloved by the comrades, was paid a glowing tribute by Eugene Debs. In Minnestota we had Beecher Moore aboard as a speaker. Right along we had nothing but enthusiastic gatherings, and the work of the young farmers out in that country and South Dakota is something to make note of. St. Paul, Duluth, Hancock and Green Bay, and a full day at Manitowoc, before we got back to Chicago, made us tired-but it was "fair champion," as the Yorkshireman would say.

And by the way, I must just express my admiration of the oratory of Eugene Debs. It was perfect in every respect. He said the right things in the right way, and brought home to the

workingmen in a way I have not seen equalled, their responsibility for the abominable system we are living in to-day. His epigrams ought to be preserved. They took the people off their feet.

And particularly in dealing with the emancipation of woman and of the child slave, was he effective. Here is an instance. He was speaking of the enormous evils of prostitution, and quietly reminding the workingmen that it was the daughters of working

ON THE WAY TO DANVILLE, ILL,