The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-10-12
CTRANGE FOLK
~ QUEER THINGS
David Christie
Murray

nonsense. w ell, the man was ulSLS AOA
life. His eye bulged out of his head like
decanter stopper, but he didn't actually
lose the sight kof it. I used to think the
world was full of friends. ] woke up to find
that / hadn't one. There wasn't soul 10
go bail for me- I'd only one relation, an
uncle. He was rich and | should have been
his heir. He dropped me like hot potato.
got six months, and it was all over with
me. The name of the man had hurt was
Gall. 1t might have been NORWOOD. He
had been a handsome man, and after THAT
night he looked like a gargoyle- He never
left me from that day to this, and ne never
will leave me till he lands in the grave
served my six months at Worcester, and
when it was over L went home-in that hat.
and in this coat''-he pointed to the one
and touched the other lightly with his fin
ger tip-"and 1 called at my uncle's house.
He wanted to throw me out, but wanted
to appeal to him and 1 wouldn't be thrown
out, all on a sudden. Violent conduct-as-
sault on a butler. Gall had the case and ran
it for all 1t was worth. and a trifie more.
Nine months from the same judge In the
same court. Plain that I was dangerous
person. Must be taught to respect the law.
What with sentences and the waiting for
the Assizes nineteen months gone in all. /
went on the road, meaning to find my way
to London somehow, and thinking that 1
might get work of some sort But whether
you'll believe me or no Gall set man to
shadow me, and the very first time that 1
asked for copper in my life 1 was run in.
After that 1 pegged straight on until 1
should have liked to have dropped and
died on the road. They don't fatten you up
much on six or nine months spin. So
long as / stuck to the casual ward l was
safe You get bread and bacon soup at
night and bread and skilly in the morning,
and you needn't actually die on it under a
month or two, but the stonebreaking's
cruel, and gaol is a paradise beside life
on the road, unless you can pick up some
thing as you go along. Well, gentlemen, 1
felt Calls hand on my shoulder, and / felt
Calls bullying eye at the back Of my neck
like gimlet all the way to London. You
may think me fanciful, but here's one
proof of it. / went into a bakers shop at
Reading and begged a stale roll, because
couldn't stand hunger any longer. got
what wanted, and 1 went along the street
munching 1t. was run in, on whose au-
thority I didn't know, but 1 guessed in
time. 1t was Monday and no Petty Ses-
sions till Wednesday. I was put up and
down again pro forma on the Tuesday,
and there was one of Calls own men, hap
pening by accident-the purest of accidents
to be in town on official business, to iden-
tify The baker refused to appear and
was allowed to go. 1 got as far as Mar
low, and there met miller and maltster,
jolly chap who began to talk to me of
hi
down on my luck. and spoke like a gentle
man, and he wanted to know how 1 came
down in the world. If I'd told him the truth
l might have found the beginning of new
career. but was afraid. and pitched him
fairy tale. He gave me a berth at fifteen
shilling week, but before the week was
over Mr.. Gall was on my track again. 1
had drawn half crown on account, and l
had earned 1t. and half sovereign to the
back Of it. but they made it out to be OBJ
tanning by false pretense and after re-
mand, Gall had man up from Worcester
to prove that l hadn't been from under ar
rest for consecutive fortnight for nearly
two years. Get a thing like that saic
against you in court and have it proved
and then If you have fancy for addressing
an unsympathetic audience, take a turn at
the bench Obviously an incorrigible rogue
and vagabond. Six weeks. Well, I did the
worst thing / could have thought Of
went mad, and / said things, and had a
turn-up with the officer in the dock when
he wanted to take me down. Six weeks
clapped on to the original. 1 was bound to
get up to the Smoke" soon or late. and
when 1 did get here I thought myself out
of danger. God knows how lived, but
did live till got berth at yard not far
from here as timekeeper. kept in a fort
night, and when L went to draw my Sec
ond weeks money the foreman called me
| by my name. / had gone in as Brown or
Jones-I forget what. But he had my name
| pat, and 1 jumped when / heard it, You
| needn't turn up on Monday says he. we
| can do without gaol-birds here" By this
| time the narrator's grog was cool enough
/ to be drinkable. He took il at a draught
| and pushed the glass across the table as If
| to invite a new supply. II don't want you
to get into trouble said the Inspector but
/ he poured out third of tumblerful The
| man went on: '"That was when my heart
broke he said. I'D lived a day or two in
| the kitchen-the place you found me in
and 1 went back there. I'd eighteen shilI-
] ings, and I meant to live cheaply. And
now I'll ask Mr.. Field-he knows my rec
| ord-whether there's any trace of it up till
then Of my having touched, or tried to
| touch a coin that wasn't mine" mot
| them said the inspector. But now you
know. Victim. you've got to go slow. you
know" mot yet, SIR said the Victim,
patting the table again and again with the
palm of his gaunt hand. mot yet" His
| look was an appeal, but the inspector did
| not meet it. He beat down the topmost
| Goals with the heel of his boot, and then
/ leaning back blew a ring of smoke from
| his lips and watched it as it circled to the
ceiling. 81 met some men at the kitchen, -
| the Victim went on. 'Three of 'em. Nice
| quiet, ignorant, respectable men they were,
| who couldn't write and couldn't read, and
| would i, being a man of education, write
for them and sign for them in the name of
~