The Washington herald., 1906-12-09

invisible but for a recent scrubbing OF
the floor, which gave the dirt-enameled
initial background of white. While
Willie was stiH viewing this collateral ex-
hibit in the career Of Tom Colder. de-
ceased, the postmaster Sidled up and be-
slowed meaning look upon his COM
panion.
That's where his head hit when he
fell after the stabbing Now. III show
you the room the yigilantes met in.
Come on"
Without stopping TO explain whose head
had hii there and fired with excitement
and gin, Mr.. Dix cIutched Mr.. Bloke by
the arm and hurried once more into the
road. Turing to the left, he approached
the Beach Hotel. and. to the great agita-
tion Of Willie, passed into that beanery,
through the bar and billiard room. and
on 10 the Isolated dining hall beneath the
waving palms
This man is either liar, net" mused
the tourist, .or one of those chaps who
feel that story. no matter how true, is
incomplete without all the corrobora tive
details. Wonder if he always tells it this
way, and If my boarding house had any
thing 60 do with hanging the gentleman
An iridescent tangIe OF cement, pork
barrels. epitaDhs and dangling rope, per
meated with an aroma of gin and Bit
tiers, had slightly buIaloed MIR Bloke
when the postmaster drew up al the door
Of the dining room. The barefooted ma
Tn IL
was rearrdnging the table after the even
ing meal Mr- Dix paused on the thresh-
hold and delivered a sweep Of the arm.
In this very room We sat-at that
same table-with Herr Bull in the chair.
No one said anything for it was ticklish
business, you must admit. All hands just
voted-yes or noon slips OF paper and
chucked 'em into a hat. didn't see the
ballots myself, but I've heard since that
it took three letters to spell every vote.
Unanimous. that was. and no mistake.
Here's his picture, too, and the now vol
uble Mr.. Dix dragged his puzzled auditor
to an artistic Photographic group Of alb
sconding supercargoes. entitled Sydney
Frauds. displayed at the head Of the din
ing hall.
There he is on the right-hand side Of
the circle. with his curly black mus
tache and plastered hair that caught the
native girls. He was the kind they fan
Cied and that smlrk simply stunned EN-.
II L"
Who is this man. anyhow" broke in
the bewildered Bloke. who was rapidly
losing the thread Of a narrative at no
time clear owing to the peculiar style OF
the narrator.
tom Colder. Who else could 1t be-"
said the postmaster. in an aggrieved tone.
well, then, whose head hit the floor
where the epitaph is? That is what Z
want 20 know.
His name was Fisher, a trader from
the Marshall group. and a decent man,
as traders 60"
Now let me get wise to this stunt be-
fore you break loose again." said Willie.
assuming a proprietary interest in the
story for the valid reason he had paid for
the gin that set Mr.. Dix buzzing Cod
der killed Fisher, whose head struck that
spot or the floor marked by letter F..
Yes, that's what 1 said"
You didn't say 50 until this minute,
but I've surmised these facts or tancies.
or whatever they are. Then Colder was
hanged to a tree in your front yard
lynched by prominent citizens who met
here and voted for violence-and you then
embalmed the butt of the tree in cement q"
For once you've got ii straight sol
emnly declared the postmaster, 'and af-
ter all my trouble, too. Now I'll show
you a photograph of the hanging. taken
by myself. Come on back to the house. ."
On the way back Willie asked Mr.. Dix
to have some more gin and bitters. He