The stories of great business enterprises which have been born and have died during a generation have been told. We are in the habit of thinking on the subject in terms of tragedy to the manufacturer or to his employee. How about the investor? Is he not the more innocent victim of the fast-changing conditions? Has he not purchased publicly offered securities and laid them aside as a permanent source of secondary income? What recourse has he if Fordson tractors wipe out the harness factory in which his money is invested, or if aggressive sales effort on the part of the electric-refrigerator agencies makes such inroads on the business of the local ice company as to make it no longer a source of income to him? In the face of this fast-changing business panorama keenness of observation on the part of the investor himself may serve him better than expert advice. At least he should be awake to all signs of the times. The executives of most businesses are too close to their jobs to have the proper perspective regarding the outlook of the industry; the banker must be consulted for facts, but cannot be taken out of this class because he is really in business with the manufacturer. The case calls for alertness and a constant questioning attitude on the part of the investor. The fact that a security has been laid aside for years may be the best reason for questioning the desirability of holding it longer. What the public wants to-day is something new and different. Sales organizations, quick transportation, and powerful national advertising can put a product on sale throughout the country almost before the American citizen of 1905 could have said Jack Robinson. That product can render valueless an industry in which you have placed ten per cent of your funds. Business, political, social, or even religious news may be of significance to an extensive investor. It is because we appreciate the significance of this fact that the financial expert who manages the Investor's Service Bureau of Scribner's Magazine was chosen not only for his knowledge of securities, but also because he is alert to all current business movements. We invite you to seek his counsel as a part of any thorough examination of an investment problem. Investor's Service Bureau 597 Fifth Avenue, New York City TO THE SOCIETY OF GOFFERS AT BLACKHEATH. -See page 583. SCRIBNER'S MAGAZINE VOL. LXXXI JUNE, 1927 NO. 6 The Necessity for Capital Punishment BY GEORGE W. HAYS Former Governor of Arkansas HE governor lived in sank and a pall of gloom enshrouded tentious to call it a mansion. It was just dawn time. The streets were gray in the filtering light. It was intensely still except for the twittering birds in the trees, arousing themselves to greet the sun. The rustle of their wings and the weak cheeping as they opened their eyes were distinctly audible. Down the empty street came footsteps, ringing loud and clear in the silence. A woman and a little boy appeared before the governor's house. The woman was typical of the country. Her face, tired and faded, bore a look of wild desperation. She was beyond social conventions. Her business had to do with life and death. And life and death do not wait on hours nor stated times. The woman had come to put in a last plea for her husband, who was to die at sunrise. When they wakened the governor he groaned in anguish of spirit. He would have given anything to have avoided the meeting. Nevertheless, he hurriedly dressed and went down-stairs. His wife had arrived on the scene before him. As the governor entered the room he noticed that she had given the little boy a piece of bread and butter and a glass of milk. He took a small delight in the kindly act, but as his eyes rested on the mother his heart Copyrighted in 1927 in United States, Canada, VOL. LXXXI.—42 The woman ran over to the governor, imploring his mercy. The chief executive closed his eyes. He could not bear to look upon this woman in such a distressful condition. He felt her hot tears on his hands. He steeled himself against her cries and sobs. Suddenly the thought occurred to him with the force of an unexpected blow that he could transform this wretched, weeping woman into a being of joy and happiness. A word from him and the murderer would escape the chair. The little boy threw down the bread he had been munching, upset the glass of milk and, bursting into tears, ran to his mother. He was too young to understand the tragic situation, but he saw that his mother was suffering. "I cannot," the chief executive managed to say. "But you pardoned-" and the woman mentioned the names of others the governor had saved from the death sentence. There was a note of anger in her voice. Desperately, she was playing her last poor card. Yes, the governor was considered by some to be perhaps too soft-hearted. Other men had he pardoned, and he would have been only too glad to commute the death penalty of this one if there were some legitimate reason to justify clemency. If only he could send the mother and little son away singing with joy. But alas, there was no justification. He had carefully investigated the case. It was a coldand Great Britain by Charles Scribner's Sons. Printed in New York. All rights reserved. 577 blooded, brutal murder, with no extenu- nounce that the murderer had satisfied ating circumstances. society. Outside, the dawn was increasing. The governor's eyes caught the rosy light in the east. The birds were moving about more restlessly. The plod-plod of a horse's hoofs sounded. The governor was essentially a people's governor. The great mass of the common people had chosen him as their chief executive. He had known what it was to be poor and struggling. Born in the South during the days of reconstruction after the Civil War, his opportunities had, perforce, been limited. In the battle to succeed he felt that he knew people and their problems. That was the very reason he paced the floor at this early hour in agony of spirit. He saw his pitying wife, no longer able to stand the harrowing scene, rush from the room, her face bathed in blinding tears. He saw the mother, her face working convulsively, seeking a fresh argument. Perhaps if he had secluded himself from the people and sat apart in dignity he might have avoided such a spectacle as this. Never had he realized until now the tremendous burden and responsibility of the pardoning power. It was true that he had always believed that power to be the highest and greatest gift of the people. The light grew stronger outside the window. The birds broke into song. In a few moments the first rays of the sun would break over the horizon. A strong temptation to rush to the telephone seized him. He restrained himself with an effort of the will. In his mind's eye he visualized the agents of justice at the penitentiary. The death march must be on. Suddenly the sunbeams broke through and played on the floor. The governor gave a great sigh. Decision had been made. Cold beads of perspiration broke out on his brow as he collapsed into a chair. Monotonously now, as if she had exhausted every emotion, the woman wept on. The little son had dried his tears and stood manfully by his mother's side. The governor blinked back a tear. That little child's father had paid the death penalty. The telephone rang, and even as it did he knew that it would an I was that governor. During my terms of office as governor of Arkansas I commuted, approximately, one-fourth of the total number of death sentences. The incident described illustrates one of the striking occasions when my sense of duty to the State forbade clemency. Let me explain my position clearly. I am not one of those who hold to the reactionary conviction that the individual that sheds his brother's blood should pay the death penalty primarily to satisfy the spirit of retribution, which perhaps is only a pleasanter term for revenge. Rather I believe that the murderer should be given the opportunity to reform. Theoretically, I believe capital punishment might well be abolished, but actually to do away with it in our present stage of development would be unwise and dangerous. Judging from my own experiences and observations I believe that mob violence would be the result. The example I have used to illustrate my opinion was one of those types of deliberate murders against which society cried out instinctively. The murderer, the day before the commission of the murder, had hitched up his team and driven to town, stopping along the way at various homesteads to ask the invariable question: "Are you going to the funeral to-morrow?" When asked what funeral, he named his victim, a resident of the same community, with whom he had been on bad terms for a considerable period of time. "Why, he isn't dead," was the re sponse. "No, he's not dead yet," declared this grim humorist, "but he will be just as soon as I lay eyes on him." The astonishing statement proved correct. The murderer came upon his victim as he was standing in a drug-store, and, after pulling his gun, announced calmly that he was going to kill him. The other man, who was unarmed, threw up both hands and begged for mercy. Bystanders joined in his pleas and attempted to restrain the armed man. With cold deliberation he warned them not to interfere, |