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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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 opy 
 
 1 RING 
 
 RULE 
 
 / 
 
 AND 
 
 RING RUIN 
 
 READING EDITION. 
 
 A PICTURE FOR THE PEOPLE. 
 
 — -«■ » ■» » 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 BROADWAY. 
 
 Room 35, No 176. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, by the Hon. A. G. W. Carter, in the year 1875, in the 
 Office of the Librarian of Con'-'i' " J . at Washington. 
 
ALSO 
 
 STAGE EDITION. 
 
 Ring R 
 
 ULE AND 
 
 Ring Ruin. 
 
 AN ORIGINAL— RELIGIOUS— SOCIAL— COMMERCIAL— FINANCIAL- 
 LEGAL— POLITICAL— RAILWAY PLAY, 
 
 IN THREE ACTS 
 
 AND SERIES OF TABLEAUX. 
 
 A Metropolitan Picture of Real Life. 
 
 Hon. A. G. W. CARTER. 
 
 With the Stage Business, Cast ot Characters, Costumes, Relative Positions, 
 
 Properties, &c. 
 
 Time of Play, 1872 to 1874. Place, New York. 
 
 • Behold this Ri *a, \vh ise high resp set, and rich validity, did lack a parallel.' 
 
 " A precious Ring, that lightens all the hale; 
 Which like a taper in some monument, 
 Doth shiue up hi th • de id m ill's earthy cheeks, 
 And shows the ragged entrails of this pit." 
 
 "A death's face in a Kino."— Shakespeare. 
 
i5 
 
 v 1 
 
 RING RULE AND RING RUIN. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I. — A room in the Grand American Depot, J. COOLIE PLANNING, Vice- 
 President of the Inter-Oceanic Railway, and SAMUEL SLYKES, Esq., an 
 Attorney, sitting together smoking. 
 
 Planning. — Well, Sam, how goes the chapel ? 
 
 Slykes. — Goes, Coolie ? A reg'lar run— no let up, I tell you. Sham- 
 mius Chapel beats my old locomotive " Nancy," mended, packed, 
 greased, and rubbed like a tea-pot— track straight, and pine knots 
 under biler — whizzin' sixty mile an hour. 
 
 Planning. — Shammius Chapel then's a spec! hey! old fellow, 
 pays? Your down-town building sold well, and your up-town edifice 
 will rise in value every day. After paying expenses, forty per cent, 
 over for parson, and charitable uses ! Ecclesiastically, and commer- 
 cially, Sam Slykes is a shrewd fox — sharp as that animal on his cane- 
 head ! 
 
 Slykes {flourishing his cane.) — Coolie, have a fellow-feelin' with 
 the brute, that's a fact — sort of a brother of mine — same great-grand- 
 papa in old times. Rather have a fox for my ancestor than a 
 monkey ! 
 
 Planning. — Sam, I am not anxious to pursue the line of your 
 ancestors, nor of my own, fearing each might prove a hemp one — 
 vegetable rather than animal. But I do want to know how you have 
 filled Shammius Chapel with such crowds. You seem to run a church 
 as well as you ran a locomotive. 
 
 Slykes. — Thing's plain as a steam-gauge. Parson got into trouble 
 — family big — expensive wife — bills and vacations long, cash and 
 visits short — scandal with the women. Pews wouldn't rent — income 
 bad — congregations slim, and a general grumble. Then comes in 
 Sam Slykes, my boy, to foreclose his mortgage, and drive the old 
 failure off. He gets a flash preacher, hires opera singers, puts steam 
 
2 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 on one organ and electricity on t'other, puffs parson in dailies. 
 Pews soon sell like strawberries and crowd runs back like sheep to 
 spring-pasture; and Sam Slykes is the biggest toad in the puddle — 
 walks about with his hands in his pockets, and says to himself — 
 "here's the boy what runs this concern ! " 
 
 Planning. — But Sam, you don't belong to the church, and I often 
 wonder you are permitted to take so prominent a part in religious 
 affairs. 
 
 Slykes.— Money's the go, Coolie, Church and State! Don't need 
 any other capital for myself. Mrs. Slykes is pious enough for both 
 — trade on her share; I give cash — she gives religion — joint-stock 
 concern. Where expenses are big, and debts heavy, members wink, 
 and parson shuts his eyes. Sam Slykes carries pews and pulpit in 
 his pocket, and an awful row they make sometimes. 
 
 Planning. — If I remember right, you have driven off three par- 
 sons — one because he was too pious, and another because he was 
 not pious enough. In all heathendom I have read of nothing so 
 merciless as a Christian congregation in its judgments of its own 
 clergymen. 
 
 Slykes. — Fact, Coolie ! I told you about our first parson. Our 
 second spiritual boss got clean crazy — down on railroads — a reg'lar 
 hobby— screamed at us every Sunday like a steam-whistle — said we 
 lied, we bribed, we watered stocks, we cheated widows, robbed orphans, 
 and stole from Johnny Bull, hide, hoof, and horns. Raised my dander, 
 Coolie ! Sam Slykes swore he must leave, and soon druv the old 
 monk off. He went off three blocks, and set up agin'. Last Sunday 
 sent down to count noses — jist one hundred and eighty-nine in his 
 new church to our fifteen hundred and one. Third parson was a 
 good fellow, handsome, and sentimental— set the women a flutterin' 
 and a cryin', and they scared him off with tears, soft-sodder, and 
 slippers. 
 
 Planning. — You have driven out two clergymen, and your women 
 have frightened off a third ! Admirable, Sam ; Bible Christianity this, 
 old boy ! You were made for our city as a fish for water, or a bird 
 for air — better yet, as a fox for geese. 
 
 Slykes. — Coolie, the man that draws the crowd should git the 
 credit. Look at this pocket-book, well stuffed I tell you ! Green- 
 backs did the bis'ness. Greenbacks is power, Church and State. 
 Greenbacks is the word in America, more nor stars, nor stripes, nor 
 spread-eagle. Gold here isn't a little starved calf, it's a fat ox 
 walkin' the street in ribbons on independence day. It's as necessary 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 3 
 
 as wood to a locomotive to make fire and steam. When Sam Slykes 
 goes down in a panic, Shammius Chapel goes down with him sure as 
 fish-blades. 
 
 Enter LYMAN RISK, the President of the Inter-Oceanic Railway, reading- a news- 
 paper. 
 
 Planning. — See Lyman poring over the " American Weather- 
 cock!" His cigar's out, and that means thinking. Some happy 
 thought is just struggling up, and his fore-finger is on his head as if 
 he would pull his new speculation out through his hair. Well, 
 Risk, what bothers you in that daily oracle of yours ? 
 
 Risk. — -Coolie, I'm no college graduate and regatta man like your- 
 self. I've never had a sheepskin or a flag to prove my mental and mus- 
 cular abilities. You may study books, but I study markets and man- 
 kind in the dailies. The "American Weathercock" shows me every 
 morning how the wind blows in politics, business, and religion. I regard 
 it as a delicate instrument nicely adjusted to surrounding circum- 
 stances, and better for me than thermometer, barometer, and tele- 
 graph to " Old Probabilities" and the American public. 
 
 Planning. — An infernal humbug, Lyman, as you and I well know, 
 founded on the idea that men are either knaves or fools, and made 
 to enrich its proprietors. This is a sheet for pimps and parsons, 
 cooks and doctors, coachmen and attorneys, waiting-maids and fine 
 ladies, gamblers and merchants — patronized alike by honest mechanics 
 and convicted criminals — democratic, republican, Catholic and Pro- 
 testant in the same is"sue — in one corner, sermons and religious notices, 
 and in another, advertisements for assignations and abortions — news 
 from London made in our own city — reports about things never seen 
 and lies about things really heard — a net for all fishes, suckers, sharks, 
 and whales. This paper flourishes on the follies and rascalities of the 
 community which it purposely demoralizes. A vulture feeds on the 
 carcass as it is found. This daily bird of prey has the devilish art of 
 corrupting the corpse with which it stuffs its maw. 
 
 Risk. — Hard on the " Weathercock," Coolie, and no man uses its 
 columns to better advantage than yourself. You abuse our best 
 friend with your cant. We get what we want from it, and have no 
 right to growl if it suits other people. Men scold at it and read it ; 
 scorn it, and pay for it ; relieve their consciences by saying it 
 should be driven from the world, and use their pockets to keep it 
 in. I'll bet a case of champagne and a box of Havanas that the 
 Inter-Oceanic Railway makes a half-million out of this number in 
 my hand. 
 
4 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 Planning. — Nonsense, Lyman. I'll go it double. Tell us what 
 you mean. 
 
 Slykes. — I'll take half agin' you, Coolie ! Lyman's always right on 
 a bet. 
 
 Risk. — I will read a few lines from the telegraph column. — " Boston. 
 Mrs. Emily and Miss Lucy Neville arrived in this morning's steamer. 
 Colonel Oscar Neville — husband and father — an officer of the British 
 army, distinguished alike for his birth, achievements, and noble qual- 
 ities, was unfortunately pitched overboard by a sudden lurch of the 
 vessel, and drowned. We understand that he was coming from India, 
 via England, to this country for the purpose of selling Mrs. Neville's 
 stock in the Inter-Oceanic Railway. The widow and her daughter 
 are at the European Hotel." 
 
 Planning. — What's that to do with a half-million to us? Don't 
 see it, Mr. President. 
 
 Slykes. — Out with it, Lyman ! Have a glimmer of your plan like a 
 head-light in a morn in' fog. 
 
 Risk (rings for a servant). — Stage-drivers and locomotive-engineers 
 have got to think for college-heads after all. {Servant enters.'] Bob, 
 take this key, and get the stock-holders' book. Now we'll take 
 fresh cigars, and light up while the fellow's gone! Give me a good 
 Havana when there's work to do. [Servant returns, places the book on 
 the table, and retires.] Sam, open that book, and turn to the letter N ! 
 
 Slykes. — All right, Lyman ! 
 
 Risk. — Look down the column, till you come to Neville! 
 
 Slykes. — Found it, old fellow! Plain as "Nancy" on my old 
 engine! Emily Neville, Calcutta, five thousand shares. Say no 
 more, Lyman ! Them shares '11 be ours ! Leave the rest to Sam 
 Slykes! If he fails he'll knock this fox-head off his cane higher nor 
 a kite. 
 
 Risk. — Sam, a thought strikes me! I'll telegraph to these women, 
 and invite them to come here on our new palace-car, "Victoria." 
 To save time I'll sit down at the instrument, and send the message 
 myself. I'm an old hand at this business. [Risk goes to the telegraph- 
 ing apparatus, and touches the keys.] Go on, Coolie ! You're bursting 
 with a speech. I can hear you and talk with Boston all at once. 
 
 Planning. — Gentlemen, your scheme may be admirable, and if 
 successful I will cheerfully pay my bets. But a much more important 
 matter now presses. If our new Railway Real Estate Confiscation 
 Law fails, Colonel Livingstone, his son, and old Pilkilson will give us 
 trouble. Both material and moral success are essential ; nothing in 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 5 
 
 America is so hateful and pernicious as failure. But here comes our 
 general agent just in time. [Enter Mr. Oilip.'] Ha! Jude, glad to 
 see you. Your appearance is most opportune. 
 
 Oilip. — Good morning, gentlemen! I am fresh from the scene 
 of action, and can give you any information you may desire. 
 
 Slykcs. — Cheerin' to see you, smooth tongue! Your smilin' face 
 shows the greasin's well done at the capital. J tide's the boy to put 
 on oil ! Slicks law-makers like locomotives ! 
 
 Risk. — Mr. Oilip, we welcome you, and expect to hear good news 
 of your progress. 
 
 Planning. — Before our agent reports, I wish to say a few things. 
 Our railway now joins ocean to ocean. At its Pacific terminus our 
 ships will soon control the trade of Asia. A vast occidental city is 
 swiftly rising. To our Atlantic emporium our steamers are steadily 
 gaining the European traffic. The lands granted by our generous 
 government will make us the richest corporation of the world. Our 
 debts and expenses are indeed overwhelming. But we trust our 
 future to fortune and our wits. A prospect of boundless wealth and 
 power opens to our vision. However, both for our traffic and our 
 prestige we must enlarge our Grand American Depot. If baffled 
 here by our enemies, our failure will end in our ruin. Our very exist- 
 ence centers in this vast enterprise. 
 
 Risk. — Coolie, we know it. No need of your college hifalutin'. 
 I tell you, by the soul of Lyman Risk, our Grand American Depot 
 shall be the biggest in the world, and no Livingstones, or Pilkil- 
 sons are going to stop us, any more than fleas can stop coach-horses. 
 Now, Oilip, what about that old sham of a Governor? 
 
 Oilip. — A case, Mr. President, embarrassed by peculiar difficulties. 
 His excellency must be reached through his vanity and his passions. 
 He is wholly unapproachable by direct offers. When he once 
 receives our money we can more easily mold him to our wishes. 
 
 Slykcs. — Send up Olive Nelson to sing a bally, and play Juliet at 
 the Capitol Theater. The old struttin' peacock '11 knock under to 
 her, tail and all. A few winks and a billy-dux will do the bis'ness, 
 and he'll sell out soul and breeches. I'll go it a hundred to one, he'll 
 sign our bill, and live on our railway pap all the rest of his hon'rable 
 days. 
 
 Oilip.— In my opinion the advice of Mr. Slykes is most timely, 
 judicious, and admirable. My observation shows that officials who 
 receive a first offer, are much more accessible to a second, and 1 
 think I know a business I have followed long and profitably. Unlike 
 
6 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 all other animals, food does not appease but increase their appetites. 
 Just now they are peculiarly voracious, because their pay is poor and 
 times are hard. 
 
 Planning. — Oilip, never buy a man without a concealed witness! 
 We own officials whom we can prove bribed by a third party, and can 
 use them as our property. 
 
 Slykes. — Right, Coolie! If we buy the donkeys, we must own 
 'em, ears and all, and drive 'em so as to get our work and save our 
 fodder. 
 
 Oilip. — The price of votes is also raised in the market by the 
 recent exposures of the Press. To secure legislators, governors, 
 and judges, is a formidable undertaking. Besides, we must gain 
 innumerable persons in lower positions. But all things are possible 
 to brass, and greenbacks, and I expect to see our depot the wonder 
 and glory of our common country. If you can find any person who 
 will promote your measures more cheaply and effectually than myself, 
 I will resign my position. 
 
 Risk. — Stop your nonsense, Oilip ! You have a right to your 
 earnings. We'll place to your credit another hundred thousand. 
 That will do the business. I know your job. We'll soon have with 
 us the legislative, executive, and judicial departments of the State, 
 and the Grand American Depot of the Inter-Oceanic Railway shall 
 extend over two more blocks of this infernal city, or Lyman Risk 
 will resign its presidency, and crack whip again from his coach-box 
 along the mud-roads and through the pine forests of old Maine. 
 
 Scene II. — The Library of Colonel Livingstone, -who is sittitig on his chair 
 reading a paper, while his wife and son are on tlie sofa. 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — I see, sir, there is bad news in the " Evening 
 Gazette." From the way you knit your forehead and pull your eye- 
 brow, I infer that it is hard for you to digest. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — Hard, my son ! My blood boils while I read. 
 Never did my ancestors in the revolution resist foreign oppression 
 more violently than I resent these infamous and incredible rascalities. 
 Here is something to stir both our patriotism and our pockets. [Reads 
 from the "Evening Gazette."] — " Dec. 31st. The Real Estate Railway 
 Confiscation Act, which recently passed the legislature, and was 
 signed by the Governor, has been sustained by the highest Judicial 
 tribunal in the State, only two judges dissenting." — A pretty piece 
 of justice for this last day of the old year! 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — Just, sir, what I expected ! The Inter-Oceanic 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 7 
 
 Railway bribed the nominating conventions, bribed the voters at the 
 polls, bribed the legislators when elected, bribed the executive, bribed 
 the judges. We have resisted this corrupt and overshadowing mo- 
 nopoly at every step, and it has so far beaten us ; but I will never quit 
 the fight until I see its utter ruin. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — There spoke a Livingstone ! Give me your 
 hand, my son ! I pledge myself with you to the battle. But however 
 we succeed in the end, our house will have to be given to the robbers. 
 
 Mrs. Livingstone. — Our house, Mr. Livingstone? You amaze me. 
 You don't mean that in this free land, and in this nineteenth century, 
 we are to be driven from our home? 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — Just what I do mean, my dear ! Here have the 
 Livingstones lived and died for generations. Washington, Hamilton, 
 Jefferson, Franklin, and other founders of our government, have often 
 been under this roof. Look at that picture of my father over my 
 study table ! I almost can see the indignation burn on those noble 
 features at the thought of being borne from their place at the will of 
 public plunderers. In a month, on the ruins of our home will rise 
 the extension of the Grand American Depot. Soon after, the loco- 
 motive will be hissing and screaming on the very spot where we 
 are now talking. 
 
 Mrs. Livingstone. — And this is liberty? That of robbers to take 
 what they will. Our land is called a refuge from oppression. Yes! 
 and enacts worse than European tyrannies. We boast that over our 
 soil still float the stars which waved above heroes. Oh ! I blush to 
 think that they look down now on slaveries vile as they have ever seen 
 abolished. But I can not believe a country hallowed by the blood of 
 martyrs will ever be cast out like a carcass and devoured by birds of 
 prey ! 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — -Such is our present prospect, nevertheless. 
 The very atmosphere is full of putrescence. Bribes and frauds rule 
 the hour. We seem sinking in a sea of corruptions. 
 
 Mrs. Livi?igstone. — Heaven has helped us in every past extremity, 
 and will not fail us now. 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — Ma, I admire your woman's faith — that thing 
 which saves this bad world. You remind me of a saying of our Spanish 
 ambassador, who asserted that there was a special Providence over 
 children, drunken men, and the United States of America. The 
 sentiment is comforting, if the association be not a flattering one. I 
 believe, with you, there will be a way out. These thieves shall be 
 driven from the palaces they disgrace to the prisons they deserve. 
 
8 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 A violent noise from the door-bell. 
 
 Mrs. Livingstone. — A nervous pull, truly ! That bell seems jerked 
 by some madman ! There again ! What a fury at the knob ! Worse 
 and worse ! Surely spirits to-night are frolicking with our wires! 
 
 Enter Dr. SOLOMON PlLKILSON, with his face and neck buried in wraps, and 
 accompanied by his wife — both in a high state of excitement. 
 
 Dr. Pilkilson. — Good evening, Colonel, Mrs. Livingstone, and Mr. 
 Frank ! Let me present my wife, Mrs. Solomon Pilkilson ! Pardon 
 this onexpected call — suthin' urgent — we couldn't wait until to- 
 morrow to interview you and your son in your law-office, so we came 
 straight to your private sanctum. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone — Glad to see you, my old client. No need of 
 apologies. Business excuses every thing. 
 
 Mrs. Livingstone. — We assure you that you are both most welcome. 
 While personally a stranger, I have heard of you through my husband 
 and my son. Indeed, all the world knows Dr. Pilkilson by reputation. 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — Good evening, Doctor and Mrs. Pilkilson. We 
 have not met since I saw you in the Park. 
 
 Mrs. Pilkilson. — La ! I remember. Dr. Solomon was drivin' in our 
 dog-cart with me at his side, when the horse scared, ran off, spilled us 
 out, me on top, and made a gen'ral sqush, and you're the very young 
 gentleman what helped me off, got Dr. Solomon on his legs, and 
 druv' us to our house in your carriage. I shall feel quite at home 
 here now. Dr. Solomon, let me take the shawl off your face! I'll 
 hold your gloves. Excuse Dr. Solomon, Mrs. Livingstone! He's 
 hotter nor our kitchen range, or patent furnace, and I bundled him 
 up to keep the cold out. Sit down now, Dr. Solomon ! keep cool, 
 and I'll fan you. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — My good neighbor, you do indeed seem 
 strangely agitated. May I venture to inquire the cause of your 
 unusual excitement? 
 
 Dr. Pilkilson. — On your table, Colonel, that very table, is the ex- 
 citin' cause of my nervous irritability, and stimulant to my blood, as 
 we doctors say profeshunly. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — You surprise me, Dr. Pilkilson. I did not 
 think that in my house, much less in my library, and before my very 
 eyes, could be any thing so offensive to you. 
 
 Dr. Pilkilson. — No fault of yours, Colonel Livingstone! Yet there 
 lies on that table what has riled my blood, and turned my liver 
 topsy-turvy. Yes, sir, in that " Evenin' Gazette," is a telegraph 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 9 
 
 about the confiscation law, worse, far worse, sir, than an infamous 
 advartisement in those same columns of my rival Bloodgood's vile 
 quack elixir, made of aloes and bad whiskey, and bitterer nor the 
 gall of kine, and which allers sets me a trimblin' down from my 
 heart through my pockets to the skirts of my garments. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — It is a trial to all honest men to see fraud 
 flourish. But we must fight these fellows like men, until their infa- 
 mous corporation shall be known in history as the "Broken Ring." 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — Thank you, sir, for those words! They stir 
 my blood. I'll give myself, with you, to the work of abolishing the 
 Inter-Oceanic Railway ! 
 
 Mrs. Livingstone. — I am grateful to heaven for such a husband 
 and such a son, and in this struggle am willing to suffer any loss or 
 inconvenience. 
 
 Mrs. Pilkilson. — We'll jine you, Colonel Livingstone ! We'll jine 
 you with our words. We'll jine you with our deeds. We'll jine you 
 with our money. We'll jine you to the last pill. 
 
 Dr. Pilkilson. — Yes ! Mrs. Solomon, to the very last pill. My 
 father, Colonel Livingstone, was a veterinery surgent, and a vaccin- 
 erry physischun, and by the shades'of all the patients he bled, purged, 
 and mended, I'll give my profeshnul talents, and my parsonal ener- 
 gies, and my public influence to the task of expurgatin' these vermin 
 gnawin' on the vitals of my country, and of dispellin' out the pisin 
 from the corrupted veins and arteries of the diseased body politic. 
 Yes! I am in to the last pill. Pills has made me what I am. Pills 
 brought me from an obscure Western village to this fast expandin' 
 metropolis. Pills made my bank-stocks, my railway shares, and other 
 s'curities. Pills built my magnificent store, erected and furnished my 
 elegant and convenient manshun. Pills bought my carriages and 
 other vehicles, feeds my wife, children, coachmen, cook, and other 
 servants. Pills have advertised my name over the world, and placed 
 in grand and even sublime proportions, the phiz and figgur of Dr. 
 Solomon Pilkilson over the roarin' Niasfra, alonsf the blusterin' 
 Atlantic and the sleepin' Pacific, on rocks, roofs, fences, signboards, 
 rails, trees, stakes and curbstones — on mountains and down valleys, 
 fernenst palaces, acrost prairies, against the very temple of St. Peter 
 in the Etarnal City. Pills is to me clothes, house, food, fame, flesh, 
 and fortune, in this life; and after death, under the shadow of a pill 
 on the top of my mausoleyum, will sleep the dust and bones of Dr. 
 Solomon Pilkilson. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — Why, Doctor, I thought that globe on your 
 
IO THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 monument in the city of the dead, represented your world-wide 
 reputation. 
 
 Dr. Pilkilson. — A pill, Colonel ; the pill ; I may say my last pill — a 
 sign for the dead, and an advartisement for the living — useful and 
 ornamental — an emblem of my profeshun, and a proclamation for 
 my business, and yet I'll sell that monumental pile, and that monu- 
 mental pill, rather than we should want a dollar to swamp this plun- 
 derin' railway. 
 
 Another violent and continual ringing. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone.— I. am very sorry, sir, that this noble burst 
 of patriotic and professional indignation has been interrupted in so 
 loud and unpleasant a manner. Our very bells seem maddened by 
 our wrongs. Certainly there must be something of importance to 
 cause this unwonted noise. 
 Enter Sam Slykes. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — Good evening, sir. I believe I have not the 
 pleasure of your acquaintance. 
 
 Slykes. — Samuel Slykes, Esq., if you please. Beg pardon, Col- 
 onel, for intrudirT- — one dark sick,, and t'other on a bust — come to 
 sarve you myself — hope acquaintance will be mutually pleasant. 
 
 Colo/icl Livingstone. — I can not possibly predict how that will be, 
 until I know your errand. Let me suggest that ladies are present, and 
 that my office, not my library, is my place for transacting business. 
 
 Slykes. — No diff, Colonel- — just the same — over in a moment, like 
 a train on short bridge — have two little papers, one for you, and 
 t'other for Doctor — must come to roost to find the chickens after sun- 
 set — no offense meant — notice had to be sarved on person and prem- 
 ises — ladies good witnesses. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — I do not understand you, Mr. Slykes. Please 
 explain ! 
 
 Slykes. — These two papers — one for you, and t'other for Doc — tell 
 story plain as letters en a steel rail. 
 Gives the papers to Colonel Livingstone oWDr. Pilkilson. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — A glance enables me to comprehend your 
 impudence. How dare you come to my library, and in the presence 
 of ladies give me this outrageous notice to quit in ten days the very 
 house of my fathers? Such effrontery is unparalleled and insuf- 
 ferable. 
 
 Dr. Pilkilson. — I'll not have sarvice on premises, and don't you 
 come into my manshun with your writs, or I'll pound you like my 
 
THEBROKENRING. II 
 
 patent steam-pestle beats the pill-stuff in my mortar, and give you 
 my foot besides. 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — This is unendurable. Be careful, Mr. Slykes, 
 or you may leave this room with less ceremony than you entered. 
 
 Mrs. Pilkilson. — Come to sarve us in our house, and I'll be in your 
 hair. I'll be at your eyes. I'll tear you into bits. I'll tramp on you like 
 a rat. I'll crush you like a cockroach. I'll mash you like a musketer ! 
 
 Slykes. — Law's passed, gentlemen and ladies — the thing's done — 
 all on the square — blusterin's too late — this property belongs to Inter- 
 Oceanic. I had to come, and get a first look at our premises. 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — Slykes, this is too much! Out of this room, 
 you rascal ! Your errand is over — begone. 
 
 Slykes (slopping in the door, and putting his cane to his chin). — Sam 
 Slykes won't forget this treatment — he's done his duty ! Good-by, 
 ladies and gentlemen ! May you all have a pleasin' introduction to 
 the new extension of the Grand American Depot of Inter-Oceanic 
 Railway, although the partin' from these premises must be soon, 
 violent, and forever, like hot steam from a safety-valve ! Gentlemen 
 and ladies, put on the brakes and stop your scoldin' ! 
 Exit Slykes. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — This scene has been a curious mixture of 
 farce and fight. Indeed, the most opposite feelings of human nature 
 ever live near together. I mourn over the degradation of my coun- 
 try, and laugh at the grotesque instruments of her ruin. Yet in the 
 excitements of our breasts in this library, I see the rising of a popu- 
 lar tempest, destined to purify our social and political atmosphere, 
 and gather in power and magnitude until it sweeps from the earth 
 these colossal monopolies, reared by private fraud and corporate 
 villainy. To break down this corrupt " Ring," will be as useful to 
 our country as any victory in its history over foreign or domestic 
 enemies. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I. — A meanly-furnished room in the second story of a house in an obscure 
 
 part of the city. 
 
 Mrs. Emily Neville (alone). — Oh, the misery of my situation ! 
 Estates in England, and yet almost destitute in America ! Money 
 there, and here starvation ! With all my friends at home, not a 
 single letter of mine yet answered! Mountains stand around me; 
 clouds hang over me ; no way of escape visible ! Every thing sold or 
 pawned ! Jewels, clothing, even my family miniatures gone, and my 
 
12 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 money exhausted ! The heavens are brass ; the earth is iron — cold, 
 cold, cold, oh, how, how cold ! Risk, Planning, Slykes, seem friends. 
 Are they really plunderers? Have their artifices thus walled me 
 round to possess my property — perhaps, my person ? Sometimes the 
 suspicion rises like a phantom too horrible for endurance, and I drive 
 it from me. And my Lucy — my pure, innocent, beautiful daughter! 
 This vulgar Slykes has asked her hand, and Risk has proposed for 
 my own. Once they would have excited my rage, my disgust, my 
 contempt, my laughter. But oh, poverty, thou art a strong leveller 
 and a merciless tyrant. My Oscar forgive me ! I see thee stand so 
 nobly with folded hands on the deck of the steamer, exulting in the 
 battle of the elements — then a lurch — heavens, thou art out on the 
 mad billows! Horrible sight! Oh, memory, torture n*y heart no 
 more! Do not reproach me, Oscar! Forgive! Remember my 
 extremity and my agony ! But I hear a knock, and like a servant 
 must admit a man I loathe. 
 Mrs. Neville opens the door, and Sam Slykes enters. 
 
 Slykes. — Good evening, Mrs. Neville ! All right, I hope ! 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — Good evening, sir ! All wrong, as I know and feel. 
 
 Slykes. — Sorry, madam, really sorry. But bis'ness first, as the 
 freight-train said to the car it smashed. 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — Then I infer from your comparison that I am the 
 helpless victim, and you the pitiless destroyer. 
 
 Slykes. — You don't mean that, Mrs. Neville! You're not ungrate- 
 ful — won't believe it. For a year I've negotiated your stocks, sold 
 and pawned your property, raised all your money, and managed your 
 affairs to best advantage. 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — To the best advantage for myself, or for you, 
 Mr. Slykes? Certainly my interests have not particularly prospered 
 in your hands. Since you took charge of my affairs, we have plunged 
 from wealth into poverty. This small, shabby room tells the story. 
 My own person bears its testimony. To admit you, I went to the 
 door as a servant. Not the most desirable situation for a lady with 
 some of the best and oldest blood of England in her veins ! 
 
 Slykes. — -Times agin' us all, madam ! Black Friday played smash 
 — a general bust up. Men in the mornin' went to the gold-room, 
 princes ; came back beggars. Country exploded like a biler with the 
 water down and the fires up — splinters went flyin' all over the world 
 — sky black, ground shakin', and death laughin' above the wreck. 
 You're no worse nor thousands sent from palaces to hovels. But 
 there's a way out, Mrs. Neville ! Never stay among smokin' ruins 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 1 3 
 
 when you can have parlor coach, revolvin' chair, good company, and 
 be flyin' over charmin' country at the rate of forty mile an hour! 
 Your daughter '11 bring you through all right ! Sam Slykes was 
 ready for the bust-up — has splendid house, and lots of cash, and 
 he'll take care of her and you into the bargain. 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — Mr. Slykes, this is not to be thought of for a single 
 moment. Such a union would be unnatural, and even laughable, 
 and could only end in your mutual misery. I will never sacrifice 
 Lucy to escape from any extremity. 
 
 Slykes. — Let me have one chance, Mrs. Neville — jist one ! Let 
 me plead my own cause, and I'll make it all right! 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — Why, Mr. Slykes, you are twice a widower, and 
 twice my daughter's age. 
 
 Slykes. — Young yet, Mrs. Neville ! Spruce and spry as a new 
 locomotive fresh from the works ! My lonely heart's a blazin' and a 
 roarin' hot as a furnace, when I think of Miss Lucy. Love, like a 
 railway, levels hills, raises valleys, and smoothes matrimonial track, I 
 tell you. 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — In view of my past obligations, I will call her, and 
 let her answer for herself; but I must plainly say to you, that I 
 know her well, and she will never give her consent. You must 
 expect to be rejected, and perhaps laughed at. 
 
 Mrs. Neville retires to send in Miss Lucy. 
 
 Slykes. — Now's the chance, my boy ! Spry and smart's the 
 words ! Time's short ! Stocks down ! Money gone ! House mort- 
 gaged ! Broke gen'rally ! Marry the gal, and the thing's t'other 
 way. Got old woman's letters from England this mornin'. Estates 
 large! Best family ! Genuine aristoc ! Ha! maybe Samuel Slykes 
 Esq.! Sir Samuel Slykes ! Baron Slykes ! Lord Slykes ! Markiss 
 Slykes ! Earl Slykes ! Duke Slykes! In Parlyament ! Among the 
 big bugs of Old England, and Sam Slykes the biggest bug in the 
 pile! 
 
 Enter MlSS NEVILLE. 
 
 Miss Neville. — Good morning, Mr. Slykes ! I hope you are well. 
 
 Slykes. — All right, Miss Lucy, but a little sad — sorter down — 
 lonely like — you understand ? 
 
 Miss Neville. — A young girl like myself, Mr. Slykes, far from 
 home, having lost her father at sea, with a widowed mother, among 
 strangers, brought, as you well know, from affluence to beggary, can 
 easily comprehend what is meant by loneliness. 
 
14 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 Slykes. — My first misfortune was when my " Nancy" bust, threw 
 me on bank, arm broke, face scalded, head bruised, eye bunged, 
 smashed gen'rally. Felt like a widerer, Miss Neville ! Then I 
 turned lawyer, and Lyman Risk, an old friend, President of Inter- 
 Oceanic, lifted me along, till I got to be one of the attorneys of the 
 road — third from boss lawyer, Miss Neville. Soon married — lost my 
 wife — went to her grave with flowers — met Mrs. Slimsy at her hus- 
 band's grave with flowers — exchanged flowers, and courted one 
 another — both lonesome — made a match — now that pious woman's 
 gone, and this world to me is like a smokin' tunnel with the train 
 jist out ! 
 
 Miss Neville. — I most sincerely compassionate your misfortunes, 
 Mr. Slykes, and only wish that my ability to assist you equaled my 
 sympathy for your situation. 
 
 Slykes. — You can help me, Miss Neville — can end my lonesomeness. 
 
 Miss Neville. — I can not even imagine, Mr. Slykes, how a poor 
 friendless girl like myself at present, can in any way aid you. 
 
 Slykes. — I said I was a smokin' tunnel when the train's jist out 
 not strong enough, Miss Neville. You've fine locomotives at home ? 
 
 Miss Neville. — None better in the world, than those I have seen 
 both in India and in England. They've rushed me like like lightning 
 many a mile along the Thames and the Ganges. 
 
 Slykes. — Splendid sight, Miss Neville, is a locomotive under full 
 steam, flyin' over plains, windin' up mountains, dashin' through tun- 
 nels, flashin' acrost bridges, and a blowin' and a yellin' and a snortin' 
 like an Arab steed — eye, fire — breath, smoke — step, thunder — excitin' 
 the country, and makin' the very dogs run barkin' mad ! But when one 
 cylinder's smashed, and t'other's patched, and she is like a man with a 
 leg off, what a poor, creepin', puffin', pantin', laborin', lonely thing ! 
 That's Sam Slykes the widerer ! He begs you, Miss Neville, down on 
 his knees, to be his t'other cylinder through life, and he'll take you on 
 all right, faster nor you ever went along Thames or Ganges. 
 
 Miss Neville. — Ridiculous, Mr. Slykes ! Positively laughable ' 
 Perfectly impossible ! Funny, I must say, too funny ! Miss Lucy 
 Neville hereby respectfully declines to be the other cylinder with 
 Mr. Samuel Slykes in the journey of life. The absurd proposition 
 casts suspicion on all your intentions, sir ! I now fear you have 
 caused our misfortunes to take advantage of them. Certainly, if my 
 mother could have anticipated such a proposal, she would never have 
 granted this interview. I must instantly withdraw, sir, and request 
 you to answer that knock at our door. 
 Miss Neville retires, Slykes opens the door, a^RiSK enters. 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 15 
 
 Risk. — Why, Sam, are you here? What's the matter? You 
 look like my old peacock sneaking away with his tail off. 
 
 Slykes. — Done for, Lyman ! Worse nor widership ! Sam Slykes 
 smashed to bits — bust to flinders — nothin' left of him ! All our 
 hope's in you, Lyman Risk! Don't fail with the widder! Here's a 
 brush — let me slick you! hair and whiskers! Neck-tie a little 
 tighter ! Now you'll take her eye ! Handsome fellow, I tell you ! 
 She's rich, Lyman ! Got out her letters this mornin' ! Uncle jist 
 dead — she next heir — estates worth all the rollin' stock of the Inter- 
 Oceanic, and Depot into the bargain ! 
 
 Risk. — That's what brought you here, Sam ? Wanted to get in 
 before me, and mend your fortunes, old boy ? 
 
 Slykes. — I went for gal— left widder for you, Lyman. But I was 
 throw'd, flung into mud, knock'd up gen'rally ! Now's your turn ! 
 Be smart, and you'll be Lyman Risk, Esq. — Sir Lyman Risk — Baron 
 Risk — Lord Risk — Markiss Risk — Earl Risk — Duke Risk — in Parly- 
 ament — among fust toads of British puddle, and bellowin' near Queen 
 Frog ! Remember, Lyman, that Sam Slykes brought these folks 
 into your power; and when you're up in the world don't forget your 
 old friend ! Here's my hand. Good-by, and good luck ! Go it 
 without brakes, Lyman Risk ! 
 
 Risk. — Farewell, Sam ! Whatever my fortune, you shall share 
 it. Lyman Risk never forgot a friend — or an enemy. [Exit Slykes.] 
 This is my last card ! Black Friday blew every other from the 
 pack, and sent them flying over the country. I can keep my head 
 above the wave just another month, and that will be enough, if this 
 suit is successful. Besides, I love the woman. Her beauty fascinates 
 me, so that my earnestness is sincere. This will give me power. She 
 is rich, and thinks herself poor. This makes the chances in my favor. 
 I hear her step. I promise heaven, if I succeed, that I will forsake 
 my evil ways and be a better man. 
 Enter MRS. NEVILLE. 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — Good evening, Mr. Risk ! I see that you are punc- 
 tual to your appointment. 
 
 Risk. — Good evening, madam ! With such a motive as yourself, 
 delay would be impossible. 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — In a matter so serious, please spare compliments! 
 
 Risk. — Pardon me, Mrs. Neville ! I perceive you have considered 
 my proposal, and hope you are prepared for a final answer. My 
 suspense not only disturbs my peace, but is a serious injury to my 
 business. 
 
16 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — I am sorry that I am yet undetermined. Alone, 
 without a friend to consult, with no opportunity of inquiring about 
 yourself, with my daughter's interests to consider as well as my own, 
 you can not wonder that I am bewildered, and almost distracted. 
 
 Risk. — It is in view of this very solitude and distress that I offer 
 you my heart, my hand, my name, my fortune, and my protection. 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — Having loved a man who satisfied every want of 
 my nature, I can not love another in the same manner. A woman's 
 heart is never filled but once. 
 
 Risk. — I grant you that she can regard no other like the husband 
 of her youth, and yet as a plain fact how often second marriages 
 prove the greatest blessings ! 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — I must be candid, sir. You must know that, not- 
 withstanding your wealth and my poverty, I perceive in you indica- 
 tions that our rank in life is not the same. 
 
 Risk. — I understand you perfectly, madam. Nor am I ashamed 
 of an humble origin. I would rather make than take my fortune. 
 Lyman Risk has risen by his own arm and brain. It is not heirship, 
 but battle, makes the man. Besides, I have improved my advan- 
 tages of culture, and especially since you have inspired my efforts. 
 Love is a swift teacher. Do not reject me! My wounded pride will 
 burst forth like a volcano, and I shall be a fearful wreck. I admire ! 
 I esteem ! I love you ! You hold the clew to my life. I stand where 
 the ways part — one leads up to heaven ; the other down to hell. 
 Link yourself to me, and we are both saved ! Cast me off, and we 
 are both lost ! 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — I confess myself moved by your earnestness, but 
 not persuaded. A woman's heart is always kindled by a man's ardor. 
 Your face, your eye, your voice bespeak your interest in me. But 
 for this very reason I hesitate. Oh, sir, this can not be the fascination 
 of the serpent ? You can not be so base, so cruel, as to deceive a 
 stranger and a widow ! 
 
 Risk. — Do not doubt me, Mrs. Neville! The differences of our 
 past will disappear. Time will assimilate us. Let me lift you from 
 your desolation to my side, and Lyman Risk will be a new man! 
 Spurn him off, and, conquered by his lower nature, he will be turned 
 into a fiend ! 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — The power of your unexpected eloquence bids me 
 beware. Emily Neville has a nature fiery and explosive as your own. 
 You have seen the flash in her eye. Misfortune has developed her. 
 She is, too, a Stanley! The pride of an old English race is in her 
 
THE BROKEN RING. \J 
 
 veins. If false, you incur a tremendous peril, and your success may 
 prove your ruin. 
 
 Risk. — Mrs. Neville, I feel my cause is gained, but I will not now 
 press a decision. Let me call to-morrow and hear your answer. 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — I consent to this course. But I tell you again, 
 beware ! If not perfectly sincere, you are touching a match to the 
 magazine, and the explosion- will be frightful. You will find Emily 
 Neville competent to defend herself. 
 
 Risk. It is the persuasion of this fact that adds fuel to my pas- 
 sion. Farewell ! When we meet again I am sure you will share my 
 name and fortune. 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — Farewell ! I promise nothing. Beware ! [Exit 
 Riski] I know not what to do ! This man made an impression on my 
 woman's heart when he rushed so nobly to peril his life, and save that 
 train! He is handsome and manly, and that excuses much. His 
 form, as he stood after his daring feat in the palace-car at my side, 
 will rise before me. Yet over me is the shadow of a dark doubt ! 
 Oh ! Oscar, am I false to thee ? Husband of my youth, pity my dis- 
 tresses ! Forgive if I mistake ! Smile from heaven on thy wife ! 
 She is urged to an abyss more terrible than that where she saw thee 
 struggling and sinking. She pauses — draws back — returns — retreats, 
 and yet comes and lingers once more over the mysterious chasm. 
 She asks help of heaven, and heaven hears her not ! Lucy, daughter 
 of my Oscar, the thought of thee decides me. I will lift thee from 
 thy misfortunes if I sink myself! Yet, can a woman, even for a 
 daughter's rescue, sell herself? I hesitate, and then feel I am already 
 on the altar, perhaps the deserved victim of my own sins. 
 
 Scene 11.— The parlor of Lyman Risk. 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — Lucy, the clew to this infamous conspiracy is 
 here in my hand. These papers tell the whole story. 
 
 Lucy Neville. — My dear Frank, we are under unspeakable obliga- 
 tions to you. But for your skill and energy our ruin would have been 
 complete. 
 
 Frank. — A certain little English girl must have some credit for 
 inspiring the enthusiasm resulting in her rescue. My aims were not 
 wholly unselfish. 
 
 Lucy. — Where on earth did you first see me, Frank ? I have often 
 wondered. 
 
 Frank. — A queer story, Lucy, showing heaven decreed you to be 
 Mrs. Frank Livingstone. I saw a notice of your arrival in the morn- 
 
18 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 ing papers, and of your father's fall into the sea. Afterwards I had 
 a glimpse of you at the hotel after your arrival from Boston, and I 
 need not say what a flutter that produced. Next I met you, in a 
 plain dress and on a retired street, and curiosity made me follow you 
 home. Often my walks would extend before your dwelling, and once 
 I was startled by seeing Risk and Slykes come from your door. You 
 and your ma haunted me, and while these rascals were plotting your 
 ruin, heaven was preparing me to be your deliverer. You know how 
 I got on the track of the scoundrels, and with my father's counsel, 
 and old Pilkilson's purse, penetrated their secrets, and possessed these 
 papers, until the whole crew is now in my power. Had your ma 
 fixed her marriage a day later, my information would have prevented 
 it. In the meantime you came into our neighborhood, and I have 
 taken you for my fee. I can scarcely wish the waves hadn't raged, 
 when they've rolled me such a treasure to the shore. 
 
 Lucy. — You can't know your treasure till you've tried it, Frank. 
 You may prove not the first lawyer disappointed in his fee. 
 
 Frank. — I hope, Lucy, you will be as well pleased with us as we 
 are with you. Don't judge our country by such fellows as Risk and 
 Slykes. They are horrible excrescences on her young life. Notwith- 
 standing her faults, no man loves her Stars and Stripes more than I do. 
 
 Lucy. — I've not yet reached the stars, Frank, and I'm not anxious 
 for the stripes. Gentlemen are gentlemen, and ladies are ladies all 
 the world over, and I can see no difference, in India, England, or 
 America. The snob, too, is a growth of all lands alike. 
 
 Frank. — That's my observation at home and abroad, and I am 
 truly glad you understand it. 
 
 Lucy. — I am much more troubled about ma than myself. It would 
 kill her not to be rid of the blot of this terrible marriage. She did 
 wrong to sacrifice herself even for me ! Then think of my proposal 
 from Sam Slykes ! 
 
 Frank. — Curse the fellow, Lucy ! I'll pay him for his impudence. 
 Don't be anxious for your ma ! She will soon be free. I confess I 
 don't want Lyman Risk for my father-in-law. 
 
 Lucy. — Laughable that Emily Neville should bear such a name ! 
 I hope our friends in England will never hear of it. 
 
 Frank. — I can't promise, in these days of lightning and reporters. 
 But, hark ! I hear her step. Risk will soon join her, and then look 
 out for an explosion ! I have promised to be near her. I will leave 
 her papers on the table, and we will retire into the next room ! 
 Frank puts down a bundle, and retires with LUCY. MRS. Risk soon enters from 
 s - an opposite door. 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 19 
 
 Mrs. Risk (taking up the papers). — Oh, in this package is the 
 future — of Emily Neville, shall I say? Of Mrs. Lyman Risk ! Risk ! 
 Risk ! Odious name ! A thorn in my flesh ! A shadow over my 
 life ! A haunting ghost wherever I go ! Yelling in my ears day 
 and night, I hear some devil scream "Risk! Risk! Mrs. Lyman 
 Risk! " Worse this than death itself! Nay ! I fear I hate it more 
 than hell afterward. The daughter of a Stanley, and the wife of a 
 Neville, tormented by so vile a name ! I despise it ! I abhor it ! 
 My cheek burns as I think of it ! [Taking a pistol from her pockety 
 I have brought this for my defence, and I thank heaven my Oscar 
 taught me its use in Calcutta ! Dreadful that a clergyman's daughter 
 should be armed with a revolver. {Replaces the pistol.'] But I hear 
 his step ; I can not moralize ; more than my life is at stake. A fool 
 that woman who sells herself ! Love alone sanctifies marriage ! Ter- 
 rible the penalty when any other motive intrudes itself! 
 Enter Lyman Risk. 
 
 Risk. — I am glad, Mrs. Risk, that you have consented to this 
 interview. 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — Do not call me by that name! I will not hear it! 
 I hate it, scorn it, loathe it ! 
 
 Risk. — I thought this morning would end our troubles, and you 
 are fiercer than ever. My name is yours by your own consent, and 
 by the law. Once you were glad enough to get it. But the moment 
 you married out of poverty you turned on me like a tigress. Since 
 we stood at the altar you have never touched my lip, nor even my 
 hand, nor in anyway recognized me as your husband. You detest my 
 very person. This can be endured no longer. I must know your 
 reasons. 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — You shall know my reasons, Lyman Risk ! 
 
 Risk. — You degrade yourself by talking of divorce. Young people 
 in this country marry for the honey-moon, and that over, separate by 
 divorce. If an old fellow would send from his side a faithful wife 
 faded by years and cares, divorce brings a blooming virgin to his 
 arms. When men would exchange wives, and women husbands, 
 divorce transfers wives and husbands like cattle in the market. All 
 over this land divorce has turned love to lust, bewildered children by 
 the multiplicity of legal parents until they can not know their own 
 fathers and mothers, converted homes into hells, and poisoned society 
 itself. And now Emily Neville, a lady of English blood, would place 
 herself in the rank of free-lovers and adulterers by a public applica- 
 
-'O THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 tion before our American courts for a divorce. Our affairs have 
 reached their crisis when she has consented to such a measure. 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — Our affairs have reached their crisis, Lyman Risk! 
 
 Risk. — Olive Nelson, that ventriloquizing imp, scared you in the 
 church as you stood at the altar, when she shrieked — " Whom God 
 hath not joined together, man shall put asunder." 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — Terrible! Yet this woman whom you ruined has not 
 wrought my resolution. 
 
 Risk. — Jane Slag goads you by her editorials and caricatures in 
 the " Globe," and you are weak enough to let them keep you in a fury. 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — Neither has the girl your betrayal stung on to ven- 
 geance, driven me to my purpose. 
 
 Risk. — You are angry because the Inter-Oceanic stocks went 
 down on the day of our marriage, and you fear my income will not 
 meet your expectations. 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — Poverty could never impel me to divorce, nor make 
 me abhor an honest name. 
 
 Risk. — Then out with it, madam ! Let me know the whole ? 
 You are making a devil of me. You counsel with my foes, and 
 drive away my friends. You scorn to own me as your husband. 
 Beware! You may go too far! Hell is rising in me while I talk, 
 and I can scarcely keep my hands from your throat. Persevere in 
 this course, and we are both ruined ! desist, and we may both be 
 happy ! 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — Never, Lyman Risk, while our present relation as 
 husband and wife lasts. Your name I will never bear. 
 
 Risk. — Say that again, and I will not be responsible for conse- 
 quences ! Muscle and law arc on my side ! 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — But Justice and Heaven are on my side, sir! I am 
 prepared for you. In my left hand, these papers are the proofs of 
 your villainy, and this pistol in my right is the protector of my per- 
 son. A bullet is swifter than your arm, and makes me superior to 
 your brute force. Here are my letters to my English friends, and 
 their letters to me, stolen from the post-office by your paid tools, 
 and brought to me by detectives from your very desk ! They are 
 evidences incontestible of your conspiracy to withhold my dividends, 
 obtain my stocks, and possess my person. Each thread in the web 
 of your scheme has been unraveled, by eyes keener, and hands 
 stronger than your own. You taunt me with my purpose to secure 
 a divorce ! A marriage conceived and consummated by fraud is void 
 before the law. I am bound in the sight of neither earth nor heaven. 
 
THEBROKENRING. 21 
 
 Most of these proofs were in my hands an hour after we left the 
 altar. This is a sufficient explanation of my conduct. My sole 
 wish in life now is to be relieved of the blot of your name, and to 
 have back that of my noble husband. To die called Risk, would be 
 to Emily Neville the worst part of death — to have Risk on her coffin, 
 would be like the torments of the lost. 
 
 Risk. — I can not deny that circumstances seem against me. But 
 give me time for explanation ! Do not goad me to despair and 
 to vengeance. 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — Ha! you beg! You have committed the crime, and 
 would evade the penalty! No uncommon thing with culprits. But 
 you shall confess, and you shall restore ! On that table is oppor- 
 tunity for both ! The paper is an acknowledgment of your guilt — 
 the check is for the sum of which you robbed me; sign both, or take 
 the consequences ! 
 
 Risk. — This is sharp practice, Mrs. Risk. I see these papers are 
 in young Livingstone's hand ! He and his father have contrived 
 this plot. I may be in your power, but you should not use it to 
 fleece me. Your stocks are now nearly worthless, and this check is 
 for their full value. 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — They were at par when your fraud obtained them, 
 and at par therefore, you shall refund them. 
 
 Risk. — But I am ruined. You can not draw blood from a skeleton. 
 I have no money. 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — A different story from that with which I was wooed, 
 sir ! I happen to know, however, there is a million to your credit in 
 the bank. 
 
 Risk. — It belongs to our railway, and I have no right to pay my 
 private debts with it. 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — Your infamous corporation is responsible to me for 
 my money. I vowed before heaven to have justice, and justice shall 
 be mine at this pistol point ! Your name, Lyman Risk, or your life 
 
 Risk. — This is a conspiracy against me. My enemies have ensnared 
 me. Do not force me to this act ! It can only lead to vengeance, 
 and to blood. 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — Risk, you are a coward ! No man who wrongs a 
 woman can be otherwise. I see beneath your brag and bluster. 
 Sign those papers ! Sign them both ! Sign them instantly ! [Risk 
 signs.] Now leave this house ! 
 
 Risk. — This house is mine. You have back the money. That's 
 enough ! You can not drive me from my own roof. 
 
22 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 Mrs. Risk. — We can't both stay. Thank me for what I've done ! 
 Without confession and restitution, Heaven laughs at the villain. He 
 can't repent with hands full of plunder. The gate of mercy is too 
 narrow for the thief and his spoils. Be grateful for my work! But 
 leave this house ! Nowhere else than here will I bear your name, 
 and we can not both be under the same roof. Therefore, leave ! 
 When that stain I loathe is off my life, that sound I hate is out of 
 my ears, that load like death is lifted from my heart, gladly will I 
 fly from this odious spot. Until then I remain. Leave! I say 
 leave ! Leave, or die ! 
 
 SCENE III. — A room in the Grand American Depot. 
 
 Planning. — Lyman, you look blue ! Some of those little domestic 
 troubles, hey ! 
 
 Risk. — Coolie, I'm sore on that subject. Don't name it ! I've 
 taken a she-hyena to my house, if not to my arms. 
 
 Planning. — British mastiff, Lyman ! And Sam, too, 's in the 
 dumps ! Failed to make up his matrimonial losses ! Can't get another 
 cylinder, old fellow ! Like a broken engine in a machine-shop, wait- 
 ing repairs ! Long time before you're mended and on the road again, 
 my boy ! 
 
 Slykcs. — 'Tis'nt widership bothers me, Coolie ! The Inter-Oceanic's 
 killin' me! Bore "Nancy's" smash-up, and death of Mrs. Slykes 
 number one, and Mrs. Slykes number two, better nor this railway 
 break-down. Stocks depreciated, bonds worthless, credit tumblin', 
 debts pressin', rolliir stock ruin'd, track shaggy, bridges shaky, 
 engines crazy, workmen grumblin', shops shut, mobs along the line — 
 folks here on the street hootin' at us! Inter-Oceanic's busted, 
 smashed, cursed, and laughed at, and fragments flyin' all over this 
 planet ! 
 
 Planning. — Bad enough, Slykes ! The time was when we talked 
 in this room under brighter skies. It seemed as if we would be 
 enabled to control the European trade on the East, and the Pacific 
 on the West, build up a vast occidental city, be the largest land- 
 owners in the country, subject to our power all other railways, mo- 
 nopolize the coal and iron traffic, and sway the whole commerce and 
 mold the politics and legislation of the nation — indeed be virtual 
 kings. Lately all. has gone against us. The prospect is black enough. 
 Still we will hope on, and work ever, and in the end we will conquer. 
 By taxing our remaining resources to the utmost, in both Europe 
 and America, I have succeeded beyond expectation. To meet our 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 23 
 
 present engagements, and keep up our credit another month, we 
 have deposited, in Lyman's name, a million now in bank. 
 
 Risk.— A lie, Coolie ! 
 
 Planning. — What do you mean, Risk ? Such language to me ? 
 You must be crazy. 
 
 Risk. — I am crazy. But it's a lie — a ruinous lie ! There's only 
 half a million. 
 
 Planning. — Risk, stop this ! Don't give me the lie again. I 
 deposited the money myself, and here's my bank-book to show it. 
 
 Risk. — And I drew out a half-million myself, and here's my bla- 
 zing head to prove it. 
 
 Slykes. — Luny, Lyman ! Who'd 've thought it ! Crazy as a loco- 
 motive, steam hissin', throttle-valve open, engineer tumbled off, flyin' 
 along precipice with death roarin' in the waters below. Inter- 
 Oceanic bust up, and president gone mad ! 
 
 Risk. — I am mad — mad as the devil wants me, or hell can make 
 me. Desperate! Disgraced in my own eyes! Burning mad! 
 Murder or suicide all that's left me ! Two women I ruined — the 
 ghosts of my life — lampooning me in the papers, and ridiculing 
 me on the stage ! A she-devil at home always in my hair, and ears! 
 Old Livingstone the head, Frank the hand, Sol Pilkilson the purse, of 
 a conspiracy which has broken into fragments the Inter-Oceanic 
 Railway ! The country and the world all against us ! I'm mad — 
 mad as flames ! 
 
 Planning. — Don't rave over it, Lyman ! Out with your secret ! 
 We must know the worst. 
 
 Risk. — I'll tell you, Coolie, but it's a hot spike to swallow, and it's 
 burning me through and through. 
 
 Slykes. — Let's have it, old boy! Sam Slykes '11 bet his fox-head, 
 Mrs. Lyman Risk's the imp that's bust the biler of the Inter- 
 Oceanic. 
 
 Risk. — Curse the hell-cat ! Her name sets me on fire ! I met 
 her this morning, hoping to stop her fury. In one hand she held all 
 her letters stolen from my desk, with a confession, and a check for 
 half a million for me to sign, and in the other hand she held a six- 
 barreled revolver, loaded and cocked. On my way up I noticed 
 policemen on the street, and when I saw all the documents in Frank 
 Livingstone's writing, I knew I was trapped, and that it meant my 
 name, or a cell and a striped jacket. I signed, hoping to get to 
 bank first, and draw out the money. When I reached the front 
 door, I saw young Livingstone dashing down the street, in his car- 
 
24 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 riage, and I knew it was all up with the Inter-Oceanic Railway. I 
 have a right to be mad. My brain burns— burns for revenge ! 
 
 Slykes.— Cheer up, old boy! You couldn't help it! We'll stick 
 to the train, and to each other while there's a tie on the track, or a 
 screw in the engine. 
 
 Planning.— -Yes ! we'll stand together. If we must go down, we 
 will sink from the same plank to the bottom of the sea. Not so bad 
 as you think, after all! I've mortgaged this depot to old Pilkilson 
 for six hundred thousand, and sent the money to London! I have 
 not yet transferred the insurance policy which expired on yesterday. 
 I'll play the old quack a hot joke. J. Coolie Planning has provided 
 for this emergency. Sam, take this key, and open that closet ! 
 SLYKES unlocks the door of the closet. 
 
 Slykes.— Champagne, old fellow ! Hurrah ! we'll end up in a 
 
 frolic. 
 
 Planning— Take down a box ! Pull out a bottle ! Uncork it 
 with this screw ! Don't be surprised ! What's the matter ? 
 
 Slykes {uncorking and smelling a bottle).— Sold, Coolie ! Kerosene ! 
 Sure as a throttle-valve ! 
 
 Planning.— -Yes, gentlemen. Kerosene ! Kerosene in America is 
 the popular' remedy for pecuniary diseases. When a man's note's 
 going to protest, and his buildings are well insured, kerosene saves 
 his credit. If his policy is large on cargo and ship, and he can't 
 scuttle, kerosene does the business. When he can't get a divorce, 
 and his wife owns the dwelling, the marriage tie is dissolved by kero- 
 sene. In this country kerosene is comfort to the afflicted, deliver- 
 ance to debtors, and a friend to all classes except the rascally 
 insurance companies, who deserve all their losses. Kerosene, gentle- 
 men, will kindle its last and highest glory over the Inter-Oceamc 
 
 Risk.— Right, Coolie, let it burn! Flames! I say, flames! flames! 
 
 Planning.— Sim, take out all those bottles ! Uncork them ! Pile 
 up the books and papers of the company ! Soak them well ! Pour 
 a dozen bottles over the stair-balustrade down on the first floor! 
 Let it run all along the halls ! Don't be sparing ! Old Pilkilson pays 
 the damage ! See this door ! From it a stairway leads down to a 
 large sewer ! A mile from our entrance it divides into three ! There 
 we separate. Let each make his own way to Montreal! From 
 thence we'll sail together to London for the tour of Europe ! All 
 arran-ed for you, boys ! Hard to be beat j . Coolie Planning ! I hear 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 25 
 
 a noise in the street below ! While Sam finishes the kerosene, I'll 
 
 go to the window. 
 
 Slyk.ES empties the bottles as PLANNING directed. 
 
 Risk. — Here are matches ! Lyman Risk will touch the oil ! He'll 
 make the fire ! He'll wrap round the Grand American Depot in 
 flames ! flames ! flames ! 
 
 Planning {looking from the window). — A crowd is gathering ! 
 Men, women, children pour along the streets! Hear their yells for 
 vengeance ! Ha ! Old Pilkilson sits in his carriage, with the Living- 
 stones at his side ! I'll speak to the quack ! Halloo ! Old Pills ! 
 Your money's on the way to London, and safe to our credit ! Your 
 policy on this building expired yesterday! The Grand American 
 Depot burns at your expense ! Those Livingstones didn't advise 
 you well when you lent us the money! He looks at me! Good! 
 He grits his teeth! Better! He shakes his fist! Best! No use, 
 old Shark! Out of pocket this day, six hundred thousand! Can't 
 get ahead of J. Coolie Planning! Good-by, Sol ! My compliments to 
 the Livingstones! I congratulate you and your counselors! Now, 
 a race for our lives! Quick, boys! they're rushing for the door! 
 Hark ! they're pounding it ! They'll soon be in ! Quick ! quick ! 
 They're like tigers ! We must leave ! Good-by fellow-citizens, and 
 ill luck to your chase ! 
 
 Risk. — We're ready ! You and Coolie go down the stairway, I'll 
 do the rest, and follow you ! 
 
 PLANNING and Slvkf.S pass through the door. Risk strikes a watch, and tights 
 two long twisted papers. He takes one to the area of the stairway, and 
 throws it over, and returns with the other shouting: Flames! Flames! 
 Flames ! He applies the fire to the kerosene, and vanishes through the 
 door. 
 
 Voices outside. — Burst in the door ! Strike harder ! Smoke 
 comes from the window ! Harder ! Harder ! Fire ! Fire ! Fire ! 
 Catch them ! hang them ! Kill them ! Fire ! Fire ! Fire 1 
 
26 THE BROKEN KING. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I. A telegraph office— crowd within and without— operator at the instru- 
 ment receiving and sending messages. 
 
 Frank Livingstone— Wow do you take it, Dr. Pilkilson ? These 
 fellows have burned the depot, and if you can't get your money when 
 it reaches London, you will be a large loser. 
 
 Dr. Pilkilson— Not the money that riles me, Mr. Frank! Soon 
 make that up ! People's ills sell my pills ! The country will sympa- 
 thize with my loss and buy more of my medicine. No better advar- 
 tisement for me, nor the fire which consumed the Grand American 
 Depot ! Will blaze Dr. Solomon Pilkilson all over this planet ! But 
 it beats me that the scamps should enjoy my money ! That's worse 
 nor Bloodgood's Bitters ! While they have that pile they'll carry on 
 their robbin' and their rollickin' somewhere, sure as pills ! 
 
 Frank Livingstone- -Doctor, we'll nab them yet ! That telegraph 
 will make this country too hot for them ! There is music in every 
 click ! See how excited the crowd grows ! The just anger of the 
 people is a sure prophecy of the ruin of this Ring. 
 
 People— News ! news ! We want the news ! Tell us about the 
 
 Ring ! 
 
 Frank Livingstone.— Fellow-citizens, I beg you to be calm ! All 
 has been done for their speedy arrest that is possible. Here comes a 
 telegram ! [A message is handed to him. which he opens, glances over, 
 and then reads alo?J.] Good news ! All right !• I'll read this dis- 
 patch ! "Slykes has been taken, and is now in irons on his road to 
 
 jail-" i 
 
 People.— Hurrah \ The mouse is caged! Hurrah! Hurrah. 
 
 Now for the two rats ! 
 
 Frank Livingstone.— Here is a second message right on the heels 
 of the first. Quick, boy, give it to me! Better yet ! Here's some- 
 thing to make you cheer in earnest. [Reads the telegram.] " Lyman 
 Risk & has just been arrested— seems crazy— all safe in handcuffs." 
 
 People.— Hurrah ! Hurrah! The king-rat's caught ! Hurrah! 
 
 Hurrah ! . . 
 
 Frank Livingstone.— Now, my fellow-citizens, while we are waitmg 
 for another telegram I want to make you a speech. But first, three 
 cheers for Dr. Solomon Pilkilson, whose pocket has furnished the 
 means of making the Inter-Oceanic Railway a " Broken Ring ! " 
 
 People— Hurrah for old Pills! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah for 
 Frank Livingstone ! Hurrah for the Colonel ! Hurrah for our flag ! 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 27 
 
 Hurrah for workingmen and honest capitalists ! Death to all grinding 
 monopolies ! 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — My fellow-citizens, I want to say to you that 
 the power in this country is always in your own hands.. Your votes 
 can make it what you please. Mark that man who gives or takes a 
 bribe ! Put him in a striped jacket ! Go to your nominating assem- 
 blies ! There's where this country is to be saved and governed. Let 
 rich and poor, capital and labor, meet there alike ! Name good men 
 for office ! Our salvation is not in party politics, but in honest can- 
 didates. May heaven send us true and able men ! 
 
 People. — That's it ! That's the figure 1 Clear as gospel ! Hurrah 
 for honesty in office ! 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — But I hear the telegraph clicking another 
 message! Here it comes! I anticipate good news. I will read it 
 to myself, and then to you. Best of all ! — " J. Coolie Planning has been 
 picked up exhausted from the river, and is now on steamer Antelope, 
 in chains, and bound for city-jail." That man, fellow-citizens, was 
 the brain of the Ring, as Risk was its hand, and Slykes its foot. All 
 are in our power, and I congratulate you and the country! 
 
 People. — Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah ! Stars and Stripes forever ! 
 The old flag shall live ! Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah ! 
 
 Scene II. — A large cell in the jail — the window screened — a table set with every 
 luxury — lights blazing, and the officials waiting on RISK, Planning, and 
 Slykes. 
 
 Planning. — Ha! boys, no kerosene here to-night! Genuine cham- 
 pagne, and nothing else i Do you want the best wines in America? 
 Go to jail with money in your pocket. Or do you crave the delica- 
 cies of the season ? Still go to jail, but don't forget your money. 
 Would you be well served at table? Look for your waiters in the 
 jail — but be sure you have your money. If you'd have women cry- 
 ing over you, reporters writing about you, the country talking of you, 
 commit a murder, set up the plea of insanity, and get the privilege 
 of going to jail — but be certain your money is there with you ! 
 
 Slykes. — True as preachin', Coolie ! We've got the money from 
 old Pills to pay our little bills — good things of America to make our 
 cell better nor a California palace-car, with kitchen in one end, and 
 a bar all the way through ! Six hundred thousand in London pays 
 all expenses ! 
 
 Planning. — What's the matter, Lyman ? You look down-hearted. 
 No English widow here to pull your hair, scratch your face, tear 
 
28 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 your eyes out, and make you sign checks and confessions with a 
 pistol at your head ! 
 
 Risk. — Coolie, you and Sam are fools to make sport of our troub- 
 les. We have been arrested for conspiracy and arson, tried and con- 
 victed by a jury, sentenced by the court, and to-morrow we leave 
 for twenty years in a state prison; and yet you joke and laugh like 
 stage-drivers changing horses in an old-fashioned tavern. If old Sol 
 Pilkilson gets his money in London, you'll be desperate as I am. 
 
 Slykes. — All right, Lyman ! Old quack can't come it ! But we'll 
 do what we can, and make the best of it ! Once my old locomotive 
 " Nancy " run off a bridge, and threw train into a gully. Some 
 smashed, some scalded, some burned, some drowned, and death 
 about gen'rally. Sam Slykes crept out the wreck, climbed back to 
 track — another train comes thunderin' along, and we stopped it by 
 wavin' the red rag, and we well ones were soon rushin' jolly as ever 
 to make up lost time. Inter-Oceanic may come out of this crash, 
 from jail and penitentiary, in the same way, and be yet the fastest 
 corporation in Young America. 
 
 Planning. — Sam's right, Lyman ! Don't lose heart over breaking 
 stone, and eating soup, and walking lock-step in your striped jacket ! 
 Money failed with jury, witnesses, and judges, but it has not lost its 
 power over guards and wardens. Money is a golden key which 
 unlocks many a prison. Money is a golden ladder up which has 
 climbed many a broken corporation. Money opens a golden para- 
 dise, where many a rich bankrupt has lived in luxury until he could 
 repair his fortunes. With six hundred thousand to our credit in 
 Europe, I don't fear any penitentiary in America! 
 
 Risk. — I can't take that view of the question. All looks to me 
 hopeless and terrible. The past seems like a fire, the present a fur- 
 nace, and along the future are red and mocking flames. 
 
 Slykes. — Lyman, drown your troubles in champagne ! Forget 
 that kerosene ! See this glass ! Here is the pure stuff! The cork 
 popped out all right with a jolly noise! How the bubbles come 
 creepin' up to the brim in this lamp-light! Them sparkles look like 
 the mountain dew when the train's flashin' past and the sun's jist 
 climbin' up on the mornin' ! Jine me, old boys ! Here's resurrection 
 to the Inter-Oceanic Railway! 
 All drink. 
 
 Planning. — I'll give a toast, Lyman, you will like. The Living- 
 stones, the Pilkilsons, the Nevilles, Olive Nelson, Jane Slag, and 
 all our enemies! May they burn in a hotter fire than we kindled 
 around the Grand American Depot! 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 2g 
 
 J?is&. — That's the thing, Coolie! You always hit it! Flames are 
 what is wanted. Let those who ruined us blaze and scorch, and 
 Emily Neville roast and twist longer than any of them ! 
 All drink. 
 
 Planning. — The excitement of our trial is now over, and we have 
 plenty of time yet to-night. I propose that we tell our adventures 
 after we parted in the sewer. We need a little cheering up before 
 we begin in the morning our journey to our new and long, but I hope 
 not last, home. Let us then light fresh cigars, take a drink, and Sam 
 will tell his story first, I will follow, and Lyman shall end the fun. 
 
 All light tlicir cigars and drink. 
 
 Slykes. — Well, Coolie, after I left you and Lyman, I stumbled 
 over a mile of rats — a screechin' and a creepin' round my feet with 
 their eyes glarin' like young head-lights. Had a pleasant feelin' if 
 I'd fall they'd soon gnaw me into bits. The hole was black as mid- 
 night, and the stench like a carcass. Stuffed my nose, and pushed on 
 till I saw a glimmer — it got bigger and bigger — soon I crawled out — ■ 
 hardly got a snuff of air and a few spots off my clothes, when a kop 
 nabbed me, ironed me, chucked me in a cart face down, and jolted 
 me to jail like a train on cross-ties. Here's another glass, and better 
 luck next time to Sam Slykes ! 
 
 All drink. 
 
 Planning. — My story is somewhat longer. I made my way over 
 the vermin, and through the gloom and filth — sometimes on my 
 feet, and sometimes on my knees — until I emerged near a river. 
 I found a boat tied to the bank, and rowed all night up the stream. 
 In the morning I landed, and struck for the hills, and thought my- 
 self safe. But the telegraph was too fast for me. The country 
 was aroused, and at my heels, and the river was my only chance. 
 I came out at a high rock, with a whole armed crowd yelling behind 
 me, stood a moment on a crag, and leaped a hundred feet sheer 
 into the water, and knew nothing more until I found myself in 
 chains steaming down the river to this infernal jail. Curses on my 
 takers, and deliverance when our time comes ! 
 
 All drink. 
 
 Slykes. — Coolie, do you think we'll ever get out ? Slim chance, in 
 my opinion. Whistle to keep my courage up, but it's all gammon ! 
 Hope, or no hope, Sam Slykes will stand by the throttle-valve, while 
 there's a stick in his tender, a coal in his furnace, a pound of steam 
 in his biler, a'screw in his engine, and a rail or cross-tie on the track ! 
 
 Planning. — Right, Sam ! I like your pluck. My motto is never 
 to be conquered. I'll fight to the last, if I am to die manacled in 
 
30 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 my cell. I expect to think myself out of a striped-jacket and prison 
 walls, to think the Inter-Oceanic Railway from its wreck, and to think 
 myself its next president, unless Lyman Risk shows himself a braver 
 man. 
 
 Slykcs. — True ring, that, Coolie ! Sharp as a sound car-wheel 
 under a steel-hammer! 
 
 Planning. — Now, Lyman, let us have your story before we retire. 
 Cheer up first, by recalling the old times ! Imagine yourself, after a 
 full glass, on your old coach-box, whip and reins in hand, stage full, 
 passengers jolly, horses rubbed, fresh, and champing for a start, sun 
 bright, roads smooth, birds singing, and all nature laughing, and 
 saying, "Go it boys! " Better after all those slow days than these 
 fast times ! If the stage-horse was not so swift as the steam-horse, 
 he was a good deal more honest animal. Here's to the memory of 
 the old coach-box! 
 All drink. 
 
 Risk. — You're driving me crazy, Coolie ! The thought of my 
 happy old stage "Amelia" kills me. I was a good young man when 
 I sat on that coach-box, and true to Jane Slag, whom I afterwards 
 deceived and ruined. That began my troubles, and I've been going 
 down, down, until I have come to arson and a jail. Flames all the road, 
 even when I was president of the Inter-Oceanic Railway ; and a king 
 in the Grand American Depot. The sewer where we parted was not 
 dark. It blazed like fire. I crawled out from it, and saw the depot 
 burning, and the earth and the heavens were fire. This cell is fire. 
 I am fire myself. See! fire leaps from my eyes, my mouth, my nose, 
 my ears ! Put it out ! It creeps along my legs, my arms, my body ! 
 Fire! Fire! Fire! Stamp it out, Sam ! Water! Water! Water! 
 Throw it on, Coolie ! Quick ! more ! more ! Fire ! Fire ! Fire ! 
 
 SCENE III. — Passenger room of the Grand American Depot, just rebuilding from 
 its ruins, in great splendor. — FRANK and LUCY LIVINGSTONE sitting at 
 one end, and Colonel and Mrs. Livingstone, with Mrs. Neville, at 
 the other. — Two trains are supposed to be outside, nearly ready to start. — 
 Bronze statues of COLONEL and of FRANK LIVINGSTONE at opposite ends 
 of the room. 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — Lucy, a glorious day! Your ma freed from 
 that ignoble name, your property restored, your injurers imprisoned, 
 and our wedding trip to old England by way of San Francisco, Can- 
 ton, and Calcutta, beginning under as bright a sky as ever looked 
 down on happy mortals ! 
 
 Lucy Livingstone. — Thanks to heaven first, and you and your 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 3 1 
 
 father next ! As we crossed the bay, the breezes seemed to laugh 
 and the waves to leap for joy. The flag over this depot dances mer- 
 rily to see so grand an edifice rising from its blackened wreck. Even 
 ma, there, is looking calm and restful, if not buoyant and happy. 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — And how beautiful she is, Lucy ! Only one 
 handsomer woman in the world, and that some might dispute. 
 
 Lucy Livingstone. — I'll not, Frank ! Have it all your own way 
 now, and I'll wait 'till my time comes. Ma is the image of my 
 Grandpa Stanley, and he is the best and noblest-looking old gentle- 
 man I ever saw — -a clergyman of the Establishment who gives honor 
 to his calling. I know you'll love and revere him. 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — Well, my faith needsalittlestrengthening just 
 now. I nevermore believed in my Bible and the apostolical church in 
 the old way of your fathers and of mine, and yet I have to confess that 
 in our fight with municipal corruption we have been more helped by the 
 press than the pulpit. Our city parsons are too often carried in the 
 pockets of rich old canting rogues, and only taken out to be used for 
 whitewash. Clergymen arc as a body by far the purest class in the com- 
 munity — are pious and respectable — often they are brave, learned, and 
 eloquent — in them, as heaven's instruments, is the hope of the world. 
 But they know little of men, and sometimes grow unconsciously like 
 parasites around a few wealthy supporters. If they are not careful we 
 laymen will set after them the players they have so long abused, and 
 invoke the stage to the reform of the pulpit. 
 
 Lucy Livingstone. — You're too sober, Frank ! I wish we could have 
 a jolly dance on the palace-car to shake the cobwebs out of your 
 brain ; or perhaps you are becoming a little vain. That statue there 
 is turning your head ! 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — Queer, Lucy, is'nt it, that a young fellow like 
 myself should be standing in bronze opposite the figure of his father! 
 Such is the wrsdom of our city in decreeing honors to a savior from 
 this " Broken Ring ! " 
 
 Lucy Livingstone. — Capital likeness, too, of both of you ! Wonder- 
 fully well done for America, and I, an English girl, am proud enough 
 of the images and their originals. But see, your pa beckons us ! We 
 must go to him ! 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — Yes, and hear that old joke about the honey- 
 moon. I'll bet a book against a bracelet we get it a dozen times 
 before we leave this depot ! 
 
 FRANK and Lucy Livingstone cross the room, and join the group at the other end. 
 Colonel Livingstone. — Ha ! my young lovers, the honey-moon likes 
 
32 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 all the sky to itself. It will soon change and put on its horns, which 
 it is not so apt to put off. But we'll hope for the best face possible. 
 What do you think of the statues, Frank? 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — I must refer you to Mrs. Neville and ma as 
 more unprejudiced judges than myself. 
 
 Mrs. Neville. — Unprejudiced ! Those forms to me are like images 
 from above. They move my heart far more than they please my 
 eye — admirable as they are in design and execution. I am reminded 
 as I gaze on the silent statues of my deliverers, erected by a grate- 
 ful city, how much I owe them and heaven. Oh, sirs, how bright 
 this hour in contrast with the blackness of the two past agonizing 
 years ! My cup this morning is sparkling over! Nothing is wanting 
 to my happiness. 
 
 Mrs. Livingstone. — You referred to me, Frank, for my opinion. 
 With all a mother's pride, I think you were rather young a man for 
 such a civic honor. Besides, I never think of these two Livingstone 
 bronzes without smiling, as I remember how near old Solomon Pilkil- 
 son was to occupying that central niche between my husband and my 
 son. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — Be careful, my dear! There comes that dis- 
 tinguished physician, and his better half! He may hear what you 
 would rather not have come to his ears. 
 Enter Dr. SOLOMON, and Mrs. PILKILSON, arm in arm. 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — Yes ! by Jove, there comes old Pills and his 
 wife right toward us! I thought I smelled his medicine. The pon- 
 derous couple roll down the room like a pair of their own pill-boxes ! 
 
 Mrs. Livingstone. — Hush! Hush! Frank! Remember he is your 
 client. 
 
 Frank Livingstone. — Needn't remind a lawyer, ma, when his pro- 
 fession's touched. Old Pills has put many a dollar in our pockets, and 
 will put many a dollar more. Aside from our interest in him, he is a 
 noble old fellow, and without his purse our family and our country 
 would have been in a different condition to-day. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — Good morning, Mrs. Pilkilson ! Good morn- 
 ing, Doctor! You are making an early start ! 
 
 Dr. Pilkilson. — Good morning, Colonel ! Good morning, ladies ! 
 Good morning, Mr. Frank ! Glad to see you all ! 
 
 An exchange of salutations between Dr. and MRS. PILKILSON, and all the members 
 of the Livingstone group. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — Doctor, I congratulate you on this new depot ! 
 You did well to take the ground under your mortgage, and erect this 
 
THE BROKEN RING. 33 
 
 noble edifice for the present corporation which succeeds the corrupt 
 and broken Inter-Oceanic Railway ! This structure will be famous 
 over the world for its commodious arrangements and its grand and 
 graceful proportions. 
 
 Dr. Pilkilson. — All turned out right, Colonel ! The ground and 
 the profits will repay my losses. But those scamps shan't keep my 
 money. While they have sich a immense sum to their credit they'll 
 think of risin' from their ruins. Mrs. Solomon and myself are goin' 
 to England by way of Boston to git that 'are money back from the 
 thieves. I vow to leave them nothing on this arth but their cells and 
 their striped jackets. 
 
 Mrs. Pilkilson. — Yes, Colonel, Dr. Solomon and I is resolved. I 
 helped him mix and pound his pill-stuff at the beginnin' of his great 
 profeshnul career, and I and him will beat these thieves worse nor 
 ever I hammered the Universal Panacea in our big mortar. They'll 
 be stamped out, I tell you. 
 Enter messenger, with telegram for COLONEL LIVINGSTONE, who opens ami reads it. 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — Well, Doctor, here is good news, which will 
 render your long voyage useless. I explained your case in an inter- 
 view with the English ambassador — an old friend, by the way, of Mrs. 
 Neville. Lord Willoughby telegraphed to the court of St. James, 
 and I now hold in my hand a dispatch from him, which I will read— 
 " Washington, September 26th. My government has agreed to seize 
 the money for your client, Dr. Pilkilson of your city, and it will be 
 placed to his credit, so that he can draw on it to-morrow morning. 
 Let me congratulate Mrs. Livingstone and yourself on the marriage 
 of your son. Connubial ties, more than steam, electricity, and com- 
 merce, will bind together Europe and America. My compliments and 
 regards to your son and daughter, and my dear friend Mrs. Neville." 
 
 Dr. Pilkilson. — Good, Colonel Livingstone ! Good as pills ! All 
 right now. No more danger of Inter-Oceanic ! dead as Bloodgood's 
 Elixir! 
 
 Mrs. Pilkilson. — Hurrah for success ! Pills is up, and the Ring's 
 down ! Happy day for us all — happy day ! 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — Now Dr. Solomon Pilkilson may consent to 
 have his statue placed in yonder niche of this new depot, in accord- 
 ance with the vote of our city fathers. 
 
 Dr. Pilkilson. — Never, Colonel, without the pill in the rigger's hand, 
 and that they refused. Dr. Solomon Pilkilson will not stand in that 
 spot in bronze unless he holds in his fingers a likeness of the pill 
 
34 THE BROKEN RING. 
 
 which has made him all that he is. It would be base, mean, the act 
 of a quack — treason to my profeshun, Colonel Livingstone. 
 
 ./ voice witliont, saying, now in loud, sad t 'ones, and then in frantic 
 shouts, — Fire ! Fire ! Fire ! 
 
 Co/one/ Livingstone. — What docs that cry mean? It is a most 
 fi arful noise! Evidently from the lips of a maniac! 
 
 / oice without, again. — Fire ! Fire ! Fire ! 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — Mrs. Neville, what's the matter? You turn 
 pale? Catch her Frank, or she will fall! She faints! Water! 
 Water! Water! 
 
 There now appear ,it Ike opposite end of the room, RISK, PLANNING, and SLYKES, 
 handcuffed, and marched in the midst of policemen, while a crowd is fot- 
 Mrs. Neville, who was the first to see tin- prisoners, having 
 fainted, is supported in the arms of FRANK LIVINGSTONE. LuCY kneels 
 at her mother's side with clasped hands, looking upward. — COLONEL and 
 Mrs. Livingstone bend over Mrs. Neville.— Mrs. Pilkilson shakes 
 her parasol at the prisoners, and Dr. Solomon makes demonstrations 
 / his fists. 
 
 Risk.- -Fire! Fire !! Fire!!! 
 
 The three e, wing taken their places on the train, and also the LIVINGSTONE 
 
 party, the bell rings, the whistle sounds ; when the shouts of the crowd 
 bring ( OLONEL LIVINGSTONE to the rear platform of the ear. 
 
 People. — Livingstone! Hurrah for Livingstone ! Hurrah for the 
 city ! Hurrah for honest men ! Handcuffs, striped-jackets, bars and 
 bolts for the thieves ! 
 
 Colonel Livingstone. — My fellow-citizens ! Let me call your atten- 
 tion to a strange fact! See the name of this palace-car! It is the 
 "Victoria" — the same on which the King robbers brought the 
 English ladies to this city, as their victims! Now, on this very car, 
 the criminals in chains and their leader a maniac, are on their way for 
 life to the penitential}-, while the innocent whom they marked for 
 plunder, with their rights restored and amid every circumstance of 
 prosperity, are starting for their native shores. Thus, in our country, 
 may it always happen to the foes and to the friends of honesty, truth, 
 and justice ! 
 
i 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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