The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1897-08-28
JAcKIE'S BURcLAR.
BY A. O. BRAZIER.
.HE garnet was squalid to degree

THE garnet was squalid to degree.
1t was dark, dirty and wretched,
and the thin streaks of light which fill
tered in through the tiny, dust-choked
skylight only seemed to heighten the
darkness and increase the misery of the
place. 1t was a small, square room,
with no furniture except a couple of
broken chairs, a grimy table and a
broken packing case, and it seemed a
place scarcely fit for habitation. Yet
on the floor there were coarse straw
mattresses, and on one of them, with
his weary face turned up to the dismal
skylight above, lay boy. He was only
a small boy, but his face was like an old
mans, and his limbs were shrunken
and dwarfed and thin. He lay looking
up into the face of man who bent over
him.
II shall be all right by and by, dad,"
he said, in weak voice. II shall be
all right as soon as the sun creeps up a
bit and can get out. Don't worry,
dad. P'r'aps / shall be able to do some
thing soon. P'r'aps / could make some
boxes or something if could sit up a
bit"
Two big. tears came down the mans
cheek and fell on to the boys hand.
He turned away hurriedly and began
walking to and fro across the garnet.
II must get the doctor to you some
: how" he said, more to himself than to
the boy on the bed; ''if fetch him by
force he must come. It's no good put
ting it off any longer"
He looked at his son and shuddered
as he thought of the change year of
misfortune had made in him.
mo, no." said the boy, with the
thoughtfulness of an ldman; wait a
bit. may be all right tomorrow"
The man plunged his hand into his
pocket and sighed. With twopence be-
tween them and starvation, what was
the use of fetching a doctor who would
order eggs and milk for his boy? What
was the use of anything except to sit
and stare at the skylight and starve?
John Endleton was man who had
once been in good position. Only
year ago he had believed himself to be
out of the reach of want, but misfortune
had ovcrtaken him, his bank had failed,
he had lost money in hundred differ
ent ways, i'll luck had followed him and
he had fallen from bad to worse, until
at last he found himself with his ten
year-old son in an East end slum, penni-
less, heart-sick, hopeless, with sickness
overtaking them, with no prospect of
anything better than hand-to-mouth
existence and with criminals gaol
bird-a common convict for a con-
panion.
John Endleton was proud man. 1t
was his pride, perhaps, that had led him
to refuse good berths that he would
have been thankful for now, and he
hated the man who shared their gar
ret. If he could have afforded tiff he
could only have made sure of the neces-
sary pence-he would have rented the
entire room in order to keep his boy
from contact with the man; but he had
reached such hopeless stage of his
existence that he was. thankful if he
found himself able to provide one de-
cent meal day, and he was obliged to
tolerate him, although his very pres.
cnce seemed poison. He hated his
coarse ways, his bad face, his evil
breath, and the thought that he was
within almost a yard of his son made
him shudder.
Jem Brooker was the leader of gang
There was no better known criminal in
the whole of London than he, and he
was proud of his reputation, proud of
his wickedness, and proud even of the
time he had done" in Portland prison.
He was foul-mouthed, bad-tempered
and had been convicted of numberless
crimes; but for some reason little Jackie
Endleton interested him.
In the early morning when he stag
gered up to the garnet half drunk the
sight of the thin, white face on the
'rtsirty mattress sobered him. The touch
of the boys hand dragged back his
memory through thousand dirty by
ways to the fresh country where, when
he was q small led. he had played with