The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1904-06-10

face, and the knotted pulses In MS
thin temples we're throbbing riotous-
| ly beneath the tight drawn skin.
There's just one girl in this world
for me-" rippled the piano from out
side, with final burst of treble
Then the masio ceased suddenly with
the hollow knock the lid of q box
makes when it is let fall. And at the
sound, The Rats head dropped upon
his breast again.
The chiefs right hand orept slowly
to the pencil tray and scrawled few
words upon a piece of paper which he
gently tore from yellow pad. Keep
the Quincy playing. Don't let him
stop" the pencil traced. He looked
furtively at The Rat. The little mans
head was still sunken upon his soiled
waistcoat, and he did not notice when
the other tiptoed to the green door
and thrusting a hand out beyond, tip
toed back again to the desk, waiting.
The renewed tinkle of the piano
foated into the courtyard, and the de-
tective smiled as he distinguished the
tune. 1t was the refrain of senti-
mental ballad, which made the audi
ence at Tony Castor's applaud wet
eyed. The chief had watched them do
it more than once. So he stared at
the shrunken man before him expec-
family.
Seems to me it sounded like the birds
at play.
Darling,
Sue, dear, don't believe Pm chatting.
Bless your heart, l love you in the
same old way"
Slowly The Rat raised him from his
lethargy. His bent shoulders CULVER
ed, and he was no longer the huddled
heap in the chair, inert and limp. Up
went his head as he listened-up, I'M
til his gaze met that of the chief.
Look here" he said hoarsely. "He
let her starve. He let her starve on
the top floor of a Cannon street tene-
mnt. | wasn't wise to it up the river.
l wasn't wise to it. / kept hammer
ing away on Sing Sing stone pile,
thinkin' he was lookin' after her. Why.
l believed him square. 1t was stripes
and the stone pile FIR me, and FIR him
the Bowery of a Saturday, night wit
the easy come-ons ready waitin' on
the pavement.
He come ter see me in the Tombs
before they took me up. I'll look af
ter Name, s'elp me- he said. And wit
that horsed the deputies in the
smokin' car and give me pedigree in
the warden's Office like the real
thing. l thought Dutch was right.
The calendar amt turning like no rou-
lette wheel up at Sing Sing. But it
went heap faster wit the letters
from Dutch what give Names love
at the end. Name didn't write. She
wasn't no scholar. And how was
to know that Dutch was lyin'?"
The Rat halted waveringly. But
the piano refrain sent him plunging
on. "They took me good conduct
time off and got me ticket of leave.
And l was FIR the home route wit a
new suit of paper clothes and me
stone-pile cush in 'em. | hadn't let
'em know l was comm l wanted to
surprise Name. 1t was dark wen
got ter Cannon street. l meets
Sweeney, the janitor, on the top of
the stoop, after rushin' the can.
Fifth floor?" I asks, thinkin' maybe
Name had moved. Sweeney eyes me
and says, 'Wot're you handin' me?'
Name Gilligan. you mutt says, and
pushin' past him made as if ter go
upstairs
Sweeney crossed himself, and wit
that / knowed there was somethin'
gone wrong. 1t struck me cold be-
fore he spoke, and I've never felt
warm since-but once" The Rats
yellow teeth rasped against one an
other like terrier worrying bone.
He went on thickly.
Didn't they put you next? says
Sweeney. Next ter what?' | asks
Name Gilligan's dead in Bellevue
these six months he says
The Rat put one hand to his head
painfully. When Sweeney says that
somethin' busted in here" he said.
"I've been gone bit in me nut ever
since, but not too much gone FIR find
in Dutch Gallagher. Why, a dog
wouldn't have treated Name the way
he'd done it. She'd been starved.
The ambulance doctor what come
when Sweeney found her senseless in
the hall said she hadn't ben eatin'
enough f'r weeks. Dutch had left
her. She'd hooked everything she
had except the ring I'd bought her.
They buried her wit that on. He'd
been writin' to me and sendin' me
Names love after she was dead, and
he lrr, nod Al. IL. -