The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1889-07-13

IN du luSlduO a pt1E VI Qdn0-
cuffs were on his wrists.
The clothing clerks gathered around
him. A patriarch with flowing white
beard. who would have done for Moses
in tableau, but who was really the
proprietor of the place, joined the
group.
Venerable SIR" cried Mr.. Ruins
don't see me murdered before your
ewes. I'm Job Rufus, of Rufustown.
I've been robbed already. Mercy!
Helpr"
But all the patriarch did was to in
quire of one of the two desperadoes:
whats he done?"
"a bank was the last thing" said
the man who had first spoken. I've
been on his track week. I'm Detec-
tive Burke"
And Mr. Rufus was hustled into a
cab. He was beginning to understand
that a mistake had been made, and
though furious, was no longer terrified.
"Who do you think 1 amp" he in
quired, over his handouts, of Detective
Burke.
40, gammonP" replied that gentle
man. There isn't suit like that in
New York nor hat"
II doubt if there is, sir,' replied
Mr.. Rufus, quite calmly.
Shortly after, in some strongholdkof
the law, he discovered that he was sp-
posed to be one Knowing Bill, of BaltY-
more; that Detective Burke had never
seen his face, but had followed the hat
and overcoat from description, and Se-
spite his wrath and the miseries of a
day and night passed in durance vile,
it was a joy to him when at last he
heard portly, white-haired gentleman
remark:
Detective Burke. you are an idiot.
Couldn't you see that this gertleman's
story was true? Knowing Bill has
changed clothes with him in the bath
rooms, and so eluded you. Why, the
fellow is twenty-eight, as dark as an
Indian, and half this genteman's age.
Very sorry, Mr.. Rufus, that this has &C.
CURED"
Poor Mr.. Rufus he uttered furious
philippe, and afterward pinned to-
gether the garments which the action
of his strong knees and elbows had al
ready ripped, and hurried down stairs.
~ fol nd fa1n nh.
for money from home was his only
course. He could not take cab. Cab
men must be paid, and
"Lord help mer' said Mr.. Rufus.
1--WE forgotten where stop"
Indeed, after standing on the curb
stone for half an hour, he found that
the name of his hotel was utterly gone.
He had never noticed in what street it
was located, and only that it had an
Irish name.
The O'Gorman. the McManus, the
O'Brien-what was it? Alas! it was
gone.
i'm going mad" thought poor Mr..
Rufus. 'Td better go home and be
locked up there"
And as he knew the way to the depot
he hurried up Broadway. the pins ia
his knees flying out at every moment
and exhibiting the red flannel beneath,
his big sombrero shading his eyes. his
tight little overcoat bursting up his
back. Who would have recognized
MIR. Job Rufus, of Rufustown, as he
hurried into the depot?
"Well?" said the ticket clerk. peep
ing out at the remarkable figure that
stood before his window.
Pm Job Rufus, of Rufus Brothers,
Rufustown." replied Mr.. Rufus. live
been robbed. l want ticket down
there. I'll pay at the other end"
"You will, ehP" asked the clerk
"Get it at the other end, then"
but, sir" exclaimed Mr.. Rufus.
The window went shut in his face.
Mr.. Rufus clasped his head with both
hands, What should he do? He went
to the door and stood there for mo-
ment. Suddenly his eye rested on a
sign opposite:
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