The Minneapolis journal., 1905-11-19

the clinging velvet darkness the young
man heard groan.
els that yourself, Fergy7'
HAnd are you there, Mr.. Macbeans'
"Mon, didn It it shut just fnel'
Curiously blended with the physical
pain in the managers voice was sod
den philosophic humor which maddened
the younger man. Fergus swore where
he lay writhing on his stomach. Mac
bean chuckled and groaned again.
"It's stingaree," he said, drawing
breath thru his teeth.
"Of course it isl
"I never breathed it to soul.''
emo more did ~
Fergus spoke with ready confidence,
and yet the words left something on
his mind. It was something vague but
haunting, something that made him feel
instinetively unworthy Of the kindly,
accomplishing tone which had annoyed
him but a moment before.
emo bones broken, Fergys'
"None that know Of"
~ doubt I've not been 50 lucky.
I'm thinkin' It's rib, by the way it
hurts to breathe.'
Fergus was already fumbling in his
pocket. The matchbox opened with a
click. The match scraped several times
in vain. Then at last the scene sprang
out as on the screen of magic lantern.
And to Fergus it was very white old
man, hunched up against the muddy
wall, with blood upon his naked scalp
and beard, and both hands pressed to
his side; to the old man, a muddy face
stricken with Mortified concern, and a
match burning down between muddy
fingers; but to both, such a new view
and version of their precious hole that
the corners Of each mouth were twitch.
ing as the match was thrown away.
Fergus was fumbling for another
when step rang overhead; and at the
sharp exchange of words which both
underground expected, Fergus came on
all fours to the old man g side, and to-
gether they sat gazing upward into the
pail Of impenetrable Grape.
"You Internal villain!H they hearo
Donkin roar, and stamp his feet with
such effect that the floor opened, ani
down thru the square Of light came the
cashier feet first.
"Heaven and hell!' he squealed, but
subsidized unhurt on hands and knees a.
the flaps went up with such a snap tha,
Macbean and Carrick nudged eacl
other at the same moment. "Now
know who you arel' the cashier raved
"Call yourself Stingaree! You II
Fowler dressed up, and this is one o:
Macbean's putrid practical jokes.
saw his jackal hurrying in to say
was coming. By cripes! it takes sur
gical operation to see their sort,
grant you.' ~. @
There was noise Of subdue'
laughter overhead; even in the pit
dry chuckle came thru Macbean's Sc
teeth.
eff it's practical joke o. mine, Don
} kin, it's recoiled on my own poo
J pate,' said the old man. 1--we Ri
Stove in, too, if that's any consolation
, to ye. It's stingaree, my manny!'
"You re right, it is, it must be!
cried the cashier, finding his words i
a torrent. IT was going to tell yor
He's been at his game down south
stuck up our own mail again only yes
: terday, between this and Deniliquir
and got a fine haul Of registered letters
SO they say. But where the deuce ar
, weq + never knew there was q celia
under here. let alone a trap door tina
might have been made for thes
E villains -
cit was made for them," replie
I Macbean after pause; and in the dea
:. dark he went on to relate the fran
! and humble history Of the hole, from it
r inception to the crooked climax OF tha
!, bitter hour. A braver confessio