Pine Bluff daily graphic., 1904-09-04
A RACE FOR A LIFE.


chair in The front part with a yes
terday's Chtcago paper flung over his
f:'ce for perfection against the too
..ersistent flies. The three o'clock
ash had not yet come in. Mr.. Blye
va waiting tor 4 fresh newspaper 10
a.alser him.
The street outside was as sounolent
as Mr.. Blye. 4 group OF taciturn and
patient farmers were waiting outside
the postonice; few horses nodded
droWsily above their hitching-posts.
The sun snone hot, and the towering
elm in front Of the drug store scarcely
stirred its dusty leaves.
Robert mated to clean bottles. Ev-
cry now and then his wide-aWal1e blue
cyes wandered restlessly towards the
distant window in search Of some life
and interest
SimmonsvilIes the deadest hole in
Michigan he muttered, discontented-
ly: nothing ever happens
He hustled a row of bottles together
and crash. one of them slipped to
tho floor and broke into a hundred
pieces.
Mr. Blye started up from his chair,
bewildered and irritated by his sud
Gen awakening. He glared through
his spectacles towards the dim end
of the store for a moment. and then
sank back into his chair.
Carr" he called out sharply, as he
stopped and swept up his scattered
newspaper with his hand. Carr, | do
wish you'd learn to be little more
careful BOTTLES cost money. Be-
SIDES. they're 1ay property, and not
yours-rememEe9 that"
Yes, sir said Robert flushing hot-
" under the rebuhe The idea OF
calling a fellow down for little thing
like that" he nHtrered anelily I've
= good mind to cult"
But Robert knew very we'll that ha
could not QNit If nc wouia-that hi
little salary Of four dollars Week
was absolutely necessary te the main
tenance Of their home. He was six
teen and the oldest Of three. Bella
ard Dick musa be Kept at school. His
widowed mother did all the dressmal
ing she could get: but this was not
much. fer SHmmonsyille was but 4
village Of three hundred. Assuredly,
Robert could not qnit-iust yet.
4 s,posa am careless" he said
to himself, for Robert was an honest
hoy. "H-hen you come to think of il
c&relessness is g pretty poor habit t
get into. III have TO turn over :
rev leaf
Presently an old Indian shnflel intC
the store His face was as impas-
sve and rmchanging in expression as
if welded in copper, and only his black
eyes seemed alert and anxious. Fl
silently laid a greasy slip of paper OF
| the counter.
Mr.. Blye stepped un 10 read tht
| l.essase it evidently held. The writ
| ing. hastily soribbled in pencil, had
| be en- rubbed. and was far from legiblc
From Hy Colborn, ehoo' said Mr.
Blye "He says your little baby girl s
got the Group. Johns that right?
/ 700 bad, Too bad! Well, We'll try
to fix up something that'll ease youl
rapoose and make her lively again.
"Be back in fl minute.' said the
Indian sto!t.ly. sMe go postoffice TO
Mr.. Colb'n.'
"All right. John. It'll be ready by
the time you're back
Mr.. Blye adjusted his spectacles
more firmly and peered among his gilt
labeled shelf bottles. He took down
two or three OF these. carefully exam
ired their labels, smelled of their
contents, and then measured out p
small quantity from each. He poured
the mixture into smaller bottle,
corked tightly. and then wrapped
it in cracking pink paper. All Mr.
Blye's movements were deliberate and
methodical, for he had been drug
gist for many years.
When this was done, he placed il
On his prescription desk. near another
bottle wrapped in blue paper.
Carr" he said, I'm going to step
over for my paper. If that Indian
GENES in, give him the bottle wrapped
iE pink Remember-the pink one. -
"All right. sir answered Robert,
cheerily His Old goodnature had re-
turned by this time.
"The charge is quarter Mr.. Blye
went on, over his shoulder. "The blue