The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1899-08-26
Toni edond
By 8. Rhett Roman.
e;aSeA Na.1AS

TONI had been altar boy now for
nearly six months. and, in conse-
quence, his position had been greatly
improved. not only with the community
at large, but among the ragged urchins
swarming around Decatur and Old
Ievee streets.
Even Mere Felix, the old bottle wom-
an ont St. Anthony's alley, was less
rancorouss in her attacks, more eau
tious how she struck at him when he
passed by, and not quite so vicious in
her abuse Of his dead mother.
Toni sat on the front steps of the
cathedral, and looked out at the beau
tiful. towering square in front; at the
palng tints of the evening sky; the ia
pering masts and rigging and red fun
nels of the ships lined UP along the
wharves beyond where the traffic of the
levee front rolled in distant, ceaseless
hum and rumble; and at the curling
smoke of locomotive as it switched
some heavy freight trains back and
forth with grumblng persistency.
For all seemed to Toni Il revelation
something he had never noted before.
And yet the IL years OF his young,
but troublesome life had been spent
right here, on the levee, in the narrow
streets and crowded alleyways adjon-
ing and around the old cathedral and
jackson square, in which he used to
steal. to throw stones at the sparrows,
when no one was looking.
Toni sat idly, his chin resting in
the palms of his hands, his elbows on
his knees, and he pondered if he were
really Toni Tedona, the vagrant and
imp of yore.
The lshmaelte. whose code of morals
had been summed up in the words:
do not be found OUT" whose agile
fingers were wont to steal anything
available, and whose sharp wits were
for sale to the highest bidder for any
nefarious job, to be executed in mys-
terious courtyards and under the shad-
ows of night, in those days not long
ago. before Pere Laurent had taken
him in.
For TOMS bold intrepidity, his cool
daring and matchless elfrontery had
made him a tool of rare value for the
reckless, turbulent, criminal popula-
ton around the wharves. and his small,
sharp features, brilliant dark eyes and
short, curling black hair had become
well known to the local police, as was
his hooking insolence and his clever
ness in getting out of scrapes where one
less quick-witted would have been cor
nered and trapped.
Toni seemed hardly to recognize him
self.
How was il he had refused, fiercely
and at last with blows, to accompany
that lawless band of which he had erst-
while been chief, gathered that evening
for raid long meditated on old Be-
lou, the butchers, premises, out by
the barracks? Belou, who was cor
daily hated by all the rabble of the
market?
II was not through fear of the stout
old Gascon and his stick. Toni would
mock and jeer with glee at both; nor
fear of his big-mouthed dog. Bah!
Toni knew a sure specific to quell the
noisy buster of watchdog, whether
bloodhound or bull pup.
IL was not because Toni hesitated to
appropriate Belou's fruit and vegeta-
bles. War had waged too long and
fierccly between the two factions
(Toni's band and Belou, the close-fist-
ed, brutal butcher) for him to look
upon the destroying Of his enemy as
anything but fair reprisal of war.
And when, with hootings and re-
proaches, the boys scurricd off down