Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1900-03-30
THE FOorPAD RETURNS TO US.
Considerably Battered and Scared,
But Still In the Ring.

SOnsiderabIy Battered and Scared
But Stfll In the Ring.
The footpad presented a sorry appearance
as he walked along the sunny side of Penn
sylvania avenue few days ago. The
jaunty, debonair air with which he car
ried himself prior to his going to Chicago
several weeks ago had vanished, together
with the color in his cheeks, for he was
pale and weak and walked with a painful
limp. He carried his left arm tenderly In
sling. -.-
"Oh, it's me all right, all right" he said
only this time my astrologer says that my
planets are in collision with Mercury and
Jupiter. l collided with something else in
Chicago-think Of 1t, in Chicago. No, my
best friend would not recognize me. nor the
police, either-not that I am afraid of the
detec's. understand" he added, fiercely
with an attempt at Strengthening up his
once powerful frame that failed dismally.
We'll. 1t was this way. OF course, you
want the story. 1t is a brief tale Of mis-
placed confidence. I was red hot to get to
chicago and now I'm an iceberg to stay
right here in dear little old Washington. !
didn't know when l was well off.
The very first night 1 struck the windy
city. at about midnight, l happened to be
on the aristocratic quarter of Prairie ave-
nue.. in neighborhood which had been a
profitable field for me in times gone by,
! saw well-dressed gentleman approach
Ing. smoking his cigar, evidently returning
from a late dinner. He looked rich and /
wanted his wallet. I stepped behind large
tree and waited for him to come up. Then
1 revealed myself and politely but firmly
asked him to throw up his hands and be
pretty quick about it, too.
That man was unQuestionably a gentle
man and one of engaging, accommodating
manners. His hands went right up, but In
the right as he hauled them out Of his
overcoat pockets was revolver and
or ,0h 1oTt
shoulder and another through the same
arm in less time than it takes me to wink.
was l standing there letting that fellow
make sieve of me and doing the baby
act myself? No, sir. / was swapping the
cylinder of my old revolver around like a
buzz saw. But 1 am an Indian if 1 hadn't
how cannot even now tell-failed to load
1t, and. of course, it wouldn't go off.
1T took but about a minute for me to
ind this out and the next found me Logging
it across the street with more bullets whis-
ting about my ears in manner that made
me doubly ashamed of myself. Yes, l was
evenings soiree had just begun. AS /
turned the corner 1 ran into the bay-win-
dow stomach of a fat policeman. 'Ouch!'
he grunted, gruff1y. Excuse me- said L.
butt of my gun. He dropped. 1 skipped
right along. He rolled over. pulled his pis-
toll and sent bullet along with me- 1t
plowed a nice round hole through nv thigh.
Think of it. Plugged by a Chicago police
man. To my undying shame 1 confess it.
And real tears stood in the highwaymans
hollow eyes.
We'll, the wound in my leg didn't stop
my home-stretch gait My lucky star sent
night hawk along that minute. 1 made
a lightning change act and got inside. and
in fifteen minutes more I was in the fiat of
a friend with surgeon playing scissors
and knives with mes And there l stayed
until l was ready to take, the train to
Washington to recuperate,
But there is a rift in the clouds OF my
gloom L afterward iearrsed that the fat
cop ran down was the chap whot though
he has been on the force for over twenty
years. enjoys the remarkable distinction OF
having never made an arrest. Such rec
ord couldn't be made outside Of Chicago.
but it is true.
IF the big fellow had caught me that
night, he'd broken his record