The free press. (Poplarville, Miss.) 1890-19??, 1894-12-13

for life, but Coco, with the equal des-
peration of hate. Struggle as he
would, he was borne back and back
until his legs cringed from the glow
of the paila. At this he made SO wild
a lunge that it bore him back few
feet: but it was only for q moment.
Inch by inch the negro urged him to-
ward that bubbling roar which seemed
to drown all other sounds. And even
now, with wild chuckle, the giant
doubled him backward against the
edge of the paila, with black, re-
sistless palm under his chin.
Only an instant had Felipe stopped,
frozen at sight of Coco in another
he had sprung to the rail, shrieking
to the men below: "Juan! Sancho!
Quico! Come!" And then rushing at
the struggle, he flung himself as
ferociously upon Coco as Coco had
attacked Don Melito. But it seemed
as If he were back in some dreadful
dream. He hammered with futile fists
upon that bare and mighty back and
caught a fierce hold about one of
those gnarled legs and tugged to trip
it and kicked it with crazy feet. But
it was all with the nightmare sense
that he was doing nothing by all his
efforts. Indeed, it was half doubtful
if the infuriated Coco knew at oil OF
this attack in the rear. What to him
were the peckings of twelve-year-
old boy.
Would the men never come? Felipe
redoubled his kicks and blows, but
with a sickening fear. Don Melito
was weakening-already his head was
thrust over the steam of the paila.
Only for his arms locked about the
giants waist, he would go in. And
now Coco's huge hand came behind
him and wrenched at the old mans
slender ones, tearing open finger by
finger resistlessly. In another mo-
ment it would be too late to think.
Aha. Mr.. Coco The boy sprang to
the second paila and snatched the
long handled skinner that leaned
against it, and, dipping it full from
the caldron, flung the molten sugar
squarely upon Coco's back. Howling,
the negro whirled about dropping the
half senseless administrator from him,
and sprang at Felipe. But the boy
stood stiff and very white, holding the
ladle back aloft. "This time the
eyes!" he cried hoarsely. eff you
tonch Don Melito again or me, will
throw it in your face!"
Even Coco hesitated at this. He
was not too drunk with rage to know
what boiling sugar meant. Plainly,
this little fool had the advantage. He
must be tricked-and then But Just
then q wan smile fitted across Felipe's
face, and, as Coco half turned his
head to see what pleasant thing could
be behind him, he got glimpse OF
Pancho, the horse breaker, and some
thing dark and wavy III the mir. He
ducked forward, but rope settled
upon his broad shoulders, tightening
like iron, and he was jerked backward
to the ground and dozen men were
upon him.
That is about all there is to tell, ex-
cept that Coco made no more trouble
on the hacienda of Villa. At Lima
he found the swift justice which some
times happens in Peru. Don Melito
was in bed several days, for he had
been roughly handled in body and in
nerves. The first day on which he
could sit up little Felipe brought
HIM a cake OF chancaca.
"Thank you," said the old man,
LAYING it on the coverlet. Sugar was
an old story to him,
"But you must taste this, my ad.
ministrador, and see if it is all
right. "
"It is good" answered Melito,
submissively. And then,
with sudden light: sit is very
good. as good as I could have made
myself. Quite right. And l think
you sent it to the molds at just the
right time. Atlanta Constitution