Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1903-01-20
DAILY SHORT STORY
Luck of Blackboard Hannigan

| getting scarcer and scarcer and the
| November air had Il way of nipping the
ears and nose which was not pleasant
| Hannigan was wandering painter.
He had once been proficient as Il de-
| spoiler of scenery, as many of the leg
| ends which now adorn the Buckeye
landscape and proclaim the merits of
pink pellets and condition powders will
| testify. Rum had got the upper hand
OF Hannigan. His hand was no longer
steady enough to follow the configura
ton of letters, even when they were
chalked out by steadier fingers, but
| Hannigan could still paint blackboards.
There was time when around the
| walls of every district school in south
erp Ohio there was painted Il dark
dado. on which the pupils worked out
their arithmetical salvation.
Mr. Hannigan as he strobe along the
tracks was muttering to himself about
the perversity OF fortune. He had
spent nearly his last cent for material.
He had been to three SchooIhouses, and
in each he had been confronted with
slabs of smoothly polished slate which
covered the plastered wall. The agent
of a Chicago school supply company
had preceded Hannigan and had done
him much injury. At the last school
house the teacher had smiled pityingly
when the decorator talked of the evil
which had come upon him. She had
unclasped from Il long chain which she
wore Il silver mounted rabbits foot and
had insisted upon the astonished paint
er's accepting it.
Now that Hannigan was alone again
his thoughts went back to the little
schOolhouse. and the more he thought
about the duplicity of the trustees and
the slate blackboardS the more angry
he became. He drew from his pocket
the fuzzy fetch which the teacher had
given him and in the half darkness con-
templated il with a look of fine scorn.
Hannigan was walking on the railroad
track with the measured tread common
to the experienced wanderer who aVails
himself of that courtesy of the -cOmpa-
ny known as the tie pass"
Luck muttered Hannigan. Jim
Hannigan walking the track with not
thing in his pocket but n rabbits foot
has Il run of luck, hasn't he? Where's
that fool thing?"
Hannigan took the talisman from his
dropped near rail, where the CLINT
from its mounting revealed its pres
ence. Hannigan stopped as though to
pick it up again. Then he reconsid-
cred.
NO" said he; don't want it; won't
have it. Let some fellow find it who
wasn't born to be unlucky."
Hannigan heard a shrill whistle and
the rumble of wheels. He stepped aside
in a mechanical way just in time to
evade a train. He stood for u moment
contemplating the two fiery eyes of red
which were diminishing in front of
him. Then he looked around him.
Il was crossing the long trestle, and
1 didn't know it," said Hannigan.
Now, by gum, that is what l call luck
crossing the treStle with no chance i'll
the world to get off 1t and spikes on the
sides of the track to make it uncom-
Portable for us hoboes; crossing the
treStle, by jung! If l had jumped, 1
would have been drowned in twenty
feet of water, and if l had stayed they
would never have recognized me eX-
cept for this can of sawdust cocktails.
Jim Hannigan, you are an ungrateful
cuss. That rabbits foot saved you, and
you threw it away. This is where you
see a crayosl enlargement of Jim Han
nigan going back to find the only thing
which ever brought him luck"
He went back over the ties, lodging
the spikes, looking for the rabbits
foot. He could see no trace of it. He
glanced up in time to see two bullying
eyes of red which were growing bigger
with every second. James Hannigan
jumped and shrieked. The Cannon
BALI was backing down on him, and
he was in the middle of the trestle. He
threw himself on the track, rolled over.
clasped the end of Il tie in his arms and
swung himself off just as the express
whizzed over his head. Above him was
the roar of the train, and beneath him
the waters of the Hooking were greed
lily tapping the wooden piles.
Talk about hard luck muttered
the trembling painter of blackboards.
"Queered for life by Il rabbits foot and
a schoolmarm's smile"
The trestle was vibrating beneath
the weight of the train. Hannigan.
with his right arm within six inches of
the rail over which were rushing the
wheels of the Cannon Ball. felt a
SILVER through every nerve of his body |
He yelled curses, and the rails gave |
back a hooking sound. He felt the |
dull pain of WEAKNESS in his arms.
Twenty feet Of water below"
moaned Hannigan, land 1 can't swim!
1 couldn't draw myself up, even if the |
train wasn't here. Well, so long, every |
body. Here is the end of James Han |
nigan, born a scenic artist, died a |
bum
He dropped. The cold waters closed
about the form of the knight of the |
road. Then a moment of silence. and |
James Hannigan awoke. He thought
he was sitting on downy cushions and
around him was poured a cooling and
a -. lALnl4