Cherokee scout. [volume] (Murphy, N.C.) 188?-1961, 1891-11-10

"WnaG Is this near you nave been
doing now3 Didn't I tell you I'd dis
charge you'll I heard of any mora st
your performancss2"
ST ANTI dOns nothing," was the an
s~et.
"Wsll; / should say nOti Who poured
link all over MIR. Williamson yesterday
morning when he was asteepG"
81 don't know"
"Was there anybody there but your
81 didh't see anybody"
"Of course you didn't. Now, my
boy" (this in very fatherly tone), "we
can't have any one around here forever
playing up such capers. Wewant boy
to worn, not to play. You have been in
mischief ever since you have been here,
and can't stand it any longer"
'What is the matter noW7"
It was the cool calm voice of the pro.
prietor, who had heard the business man.
). ayers earnest tones, and had opened his
door to hear what it was all about.
|. The business manager explained the
situation. =
| tAnd did you pour ink on Mr.. Will.
iamson9" asked the proprietor:
rsNo; SIR"
Many d crirHsoned prisoner at the bar
of Justice has said s'not guilty" in tone
that has carried conviction Of innocence;
but this innocent boy, with his shifting
weak blue eyes; very red hair and embar-
rsssed face; had not one item id his
favor:
z"You are quite sureG"
ayes, SIR"
The proprietor looked at the business
manager, and that look the latter under
stood. He had seen it before. It meant
that the testimony was all in, the dis
trict attorneys duty over, and the mat.
ter was wholly with the judge.
"You can GO back to the press-room
and go to work. I will look into the
matter later;" and so Charlie was dis
missed, and the proprietor went back to
the crowd of politicians i'll the private
Office, and the business manager went on
quoting rates to some big advertising
firm in Chicago.
So Charles life went on. The fore-
man never f0fgave the ink affair, and
Charles lines were harder than ever.
Once in while the business manager
came into the press-roon, but he never
noticed the boy; nobody noticed him;
but what did he care for that9 What
did he care? Why, he cared SO much
that one day when he met the proprietor
in the alley, and the pleasant-faced and
pleasant-voiced man spoke to him, and
called him ''mv boy," he went back to
his work and tears fell on the inky roller
! he was washing. There is many ten
der heart; many an appreciative and
hungry one, behind an ugly face.
A boy working about an engine, it
he has any conception or inventiveness
about him, will soon learn the principles
upon which the machinery runs, and
Charlie was naturally bright il this di-
rection. He had dreams of being mas
ter mechanic some day, and he began
away down amYng the primaries, and
picked up what he could. It was little,
for Mr.. Williamson did not allow any
one - fool around the press engine, and
he had threatened innumerable times to
use Charities red head to heat the boiler.
!: One day the big etIIrien Of the day had
been run, the last ''fifty" had been taken
from the packer, the men in the mail
room were wrapping like automatons,
and Mr.. Williamson aud the pressmen
had disappeared, as they had way of
doing after long run.
Charlie was clearing up. He had
piled the waste paper into tine pit, turned
off the gaslights around the presses, and
that made up the SUN of his duties. He
was just about taking off his greasy
tic ing apron when he noticed that there
was smell as of something burning. He
looked all around, the gas was out. and
what peculiar smell it was! Those
who have smelled iron burning may
know what it was!
His eyes instinctively went to the
water gauges of the boiler. Trey were
all right, and showed the necessary
depth. But while he was still looking,
there was q sucking sound, aud the
water went down out of sight like
flash. Could he believe his eyes2 What
should he do in a case like this2 Call
somebody9 Where was Mr.. williamson
Suppose they should all rush in, aud just
that minute the boiler explode and kill
every onel The big rake stood by the
door. He seized it, banged open the
door of the furnace, and with mighty
sweep drew the glowing mass Of red.
white Goals out on to the zinc. He never
thought of running; he was not the kind
of boy to turn his back on danger.
As the Goals came piling out, some of them
rolled against the apron he wore, which
touched the floor as he stooped-an
apron soaked with ink and press oil and
kerosene. In an instant, and before he
had dropped the rake from his fingers, a
tiny flame leaped up from the hem un.
noticed by the boy: wider it grew and
further up it leaped, until in an instant
he was envelOped in flame from head to
foot. He had presence of mind enough
to leap into the tank and turn on the
water, but is was too late. A wreath OF
fame had circled around the neck of his
checked ghiEyf he he'd drawn . 2Eeags
frightened breath and sucked in the 6re.
They found him when they returned
lying with his face half in the water, hrs
clothes black and dropping to pieces,
soaked with water, one poor little claw
like hand over the side of the tank as If
appealing for help. They lifted him out
and laid him on the bench in the mail
room; the foreman wrapped his overcoat
around him; the doctor from the drug
store across the street was summoned.
He came, and the business manager
came, and the proprietor, and the Office
generally; and they crowded into the
mailing-room, all curious.
The foreman saw at glance how
everything had happened-the water,
.aaac.nn nm nfu thu nnola rakad ont in