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Dixon, Thomas, 1864-1946

"The Southerner A Romance of the Real Lincoln"

It
brings him to terms quickly."
The tall figure bent curiously examining the contrivance:
"And we apply this to thousands of brave American seamen every year?"
"Undoubtedly."
"Let me try it and see what it's like."
It was useless to protest. He had already taken off his tall silk hat
and there was a look of quiet determination in his hazel-grey eyes.
He stepped quickly into the enclosure, which he found to be about three
feet in length and about the same in width. His tall figure of six feet
four was practically telescoped.
"Close your door now and turn on the steam," he ordered. "I'll give you
the signal when I've had enough."
The door was closed and the steam turned on.
He stood it three minutes and gave the signal of release.
He stepped out, stretched his long legs, and breathed deeply. He mopped
his brow and there was fire in his sombre eyes as he turned to Welles:
"Mr. Secretary, I want every one of those things dumped into the sea.
Never again allow it to be found on a vessel flying the American flag!"
In an hour every sailor in the harbor had heard the news. The old salts
who had felt its shame and agony lifted their caps and stood with bared
heads, cheering and crying as he passed.
One by one, every country of Europe heard the news and the sweat box
ceased to be an instrument of discipline on every sea of the civilized
world.


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