The Forrest City times., 1891-10-09
913 AS BEST MAN.

snub-nosed and he wasn't altogether tough. Most messenger-boys are both.
 He used to swing his heels and wait for calls in District Messenger Station No. 67. West. which is up in quiet part of the town. and where most of the calls are to private dwellings. Number 9l3 wasn't overworked, and put in considerable leisure thinking about the things that went on in the neighborhood. He knew how many times day the pretty Irish maid in the first house on the side street shook the house-mats at the big policeman as he passed. He knew a lot more things too. He knew that the pretty girl in the house had lover and that the mother and she were trying to keep the fact for some reason from the father.
 Nine-thirteen knew that the father was kept out of the love affair by the way in which things were conducted. The old gentleman went of to his of flee each morning and returned about half-past four in the afternoon. Just at luncheon time each day, the young man would turn the corner briskly and dash up the steps
 Sometimes his trap would come up after luncheon, and the two young people and the mother would go for a drive in the park. Sometimes he came in his ridiug-clothes and then she would come down the steps in her close, dark habit and silk hat. and they would drive off together. Nine thirteen was little disappointed that they didn't have the horses brought to the door, He wanted to see Miss Mabel mount.
 Occasionally they neither drove nor rode, but just went out for little walk and sometimes they did none of these things but sat in the house and talked Once in a long while. the old man didn't go downtown for the day, and Nine-thirteen never looked in vain on these days for a summons from the house whence he was sure to carry a telegraph blank on which was written:
 Gan not see you to-day. Will write
 To be sent to Frederic Brown -Romayne. l"
 M. W
 One of these days had come Nlne- thirteen had answered the call and dispatched the telegram. A few min- utes later, Miss Mabel came down the steps and walked toward the avenue, with stout grey-haired lady. who looked like Mrs Wright, but who wasn't Mrs. Wright
 About twelve o'clock the door of District Messenger Station. No. 67, opened with kind of dumb reverence to the impressive person of Mr. Horace Wright broker. Taking gold pen out of his pocket. he dipped it into the ink we'll pulled a pad of blanks toward him and began to write. The telegraph operator was sitting at the instrument with his back toward the office. Here, Clark, he called out to his assistant,
 take this message down.:
 Mabel Wright, 2i East ---th street Something has happened Must see you to-day. Wire me where and when F. B."
 The words rang out loud and unmis- taxable. moving two persons to indis- erect and unusual behavior thereby. The stout old broker stopped in the midst of scratch as he heard his daughters name. As the words went on, he grew first purple then ashen. He stood motionless while Clark wrote out the message. Then large pres ence lowered at Clark's side and a large hand was laid on the paper. ..I will take that. if you please, he said, and the operator looked up, saw Mir Horace Wright, and slipped the tele- gram into an envelope.
 When the message came in, Nine- thirteen was speculating how much a pair of patent-leathers. like those the operator was wearing, must cost When he heard the address of the message, he jumped to his feet like a cat
 The blame fooir he whispered, under his breath. Then he watched old Wright, as he always called him. Nine-thirteen hadn't been down to the Bowery theaters for nothing. He knew the look meant mischief. His head whirled for minute and his mouth was dry. He didn't know that he was pale, but he was. Nine-thir- teens life had been cast along in prosaic lines until now. and this was n great tragedy. He sat down to think, and in minute things got clear. That blame foolr he said again. un- Ger his breath and yet up to that very hour the operator had been his hero. Old Wright meant mischief. that was sure, and Nine-t thirteen saw Miss Mabel's pretty face wet with tears and hoard hot words poured out before her and-something had got to be done, and he had got to do it.
 Well she ain't ketchin' it this minute" quoth Nine-thirteen to him. self; she's away yet Then he fell into deep thought for q minute. Sud- denly he seized sheet of paper and began to write. What he wrote he thrust into an envelope stealthily di- rected it and slipped is into his breast-pocket Then nc sat down again and seemed half-asleep for few minutes.
 When the clerk happened to be looking that way. Nine-thirteen jump ed to his feet with cry. Il forgot me old lady, he said, clapping his breast- pocket
 What old lady?' said the clerk. l .slhe old dame as glve me the let ter" answered Nine-t thirteen airily. pulling out the envelope; s'she stopped 1 me when wuz goin' past de house dis m0rnin' an tOle me to take diA an | x,,,t if in ma ,aaeixat ant farOot av.s