The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1903-02-06

now carried with 1t an unwOnted re-
proach. 1t revealed to him with pain
full vivldness his own position in the
world, and he cursed the fate that
had caused him to leave the freight
train. Illica was potent in rousing
the unwelcome spectre of the past, in
stirring memories that he had fancied
dead or so somnolent that they would
never waken to plague him, in
kindling longings that he had for
many day resolutely banished.
AS Rossiter drew near, and it be-
came evident that he was seeking the
saloon, the two loungers stepped back
to allow him TO enter, scanning him
with leering curiosity as he walked
toward the bar. With one hand he
tossed his little bundle of clothes
upon the polished slab behind which,
in trousers and gauze undershirt, a
close-cropped, red-faced Irish-Amer-
lean was standing, and with the other
cast down his last precious nickel.
ga glass of beer, for Heavens
sake!" said he.
The saloon-keeper shot an amused
glance at him, seized beer mug,
turned spigot, held the mug
up, cycling it's contents critically,
blew off the foam, put it beneath
the tap again, and then placed it be-
fore Rossiter with flourish.
"Still hottern'n 'ell!" he remarked.
Rossiter answered with little nod
of assent, and then gave himself over
10 the luxury of the beaded draught.
No bottle of wine quaffed in his
primrose days had ever afforded him
quite the satisfaction he experienced
from that plebeian beer. He put
the mug down with sigh.
"Have another?" asked the saloon
keeper.
Rossiter smiled regretfully and
produced his three remaining pen
nies, chinking them in his hand.
"Guess not" he answered.
ooh, WELL" said the man behind the
bar good-naturedly, 81 see you're
ruther down on yer luck, I'll STAN
treat. They's some crackers over
there" he added, pointing to a nicked
b4gSii phop ptOOu upOlt u pttblS oA viz
opposite side of the room.
Rossiter helped himself to a gener-
Gus handful, and, returning, took up
his brimming mug that was awaiting
him.
"Here's looking at you," he said.
my best thanks
Coin hop-pickin', I suppose?" said
the saloon-keeper he tossed off his
pony"
Hadn't thought of it," replied Ros-
sitter, who now recalled that it was
the season of the hop-harvest, when
there was large influx of people
into Illica on their way to the hop
the hills.
Thought likely ye were. They's
a big crowd goin' this year. They
say the crops heavy"
An idea flashed into Rossiter's
brain.
81 wonder if could get chance to
pick?" he queried.
"Gosh, yes!" said the saloon-keep-
er, "plenty o. chance if ye kept
SOBER"
Rossiter made some additional in
quiries in regard to the matter of
hop-picking, then, as the saloon
keeper suggested that he guessed
he'd shut up, the vagrant took his
bundle from the bar and sought the
street.
81 might try it," he unused as he
strolled aimlessly in the direction of
the station. "I'll see how it strikes me
in the morning."
Reaching the railway tracks, he
halted for a moment in indecision.
The station was closed, so it was USE
less to attempt to get an hour or
two of rest upon one of the seats
under the plea that he was waiting
for train. Turning to the left,
he walked parallel with the tracks
for more than thrice score of PAGES,
crossed deserted street, and de-
scried directly in front of him
freight house, along all sides of
which platform extended. On the
side towards the railway some
WCIS uDOA a
switch. He gained the platform and
began trying the doors of these cars.
They were all securely fastened,
however, so he slipped down between
one of them and the platform, be-
meath which he CROPPED his way till
he found where some chips and
sweepings had been thrown. Here
he arranged his bundle for a pillow,
stretched himself out, and was soon
calmly slumbering. Night-long near
him darkened express trains went
rushing by or began to slacken speed
with a hiss of steam and a grating
of wheels, but they disturbed him
not, and when the breezeless dawn
began to break he was still sleeping
as peacefully as though his bed were
one of luxury.
CHAPTER II.