The St. Mary banner. (Franklin, Parish of St. Mary, La.) 1889-1931, 1909-10-16

1t was not 50 dark On the second
floor. Charley could not stand up
Clinsing to his one idea. he crept &c
the foot Of the next flight.
That was terrible climb. He seem
ed to have on a lead-weighed diving
suit Each step he thought would be
tie las. When finally he SPRAYED
along the floor boards, his body was
almost stiff. Rousing for a last ef-
fort, he began to creep toward the
front Of the building.
1t was a tremendous change from
scoty darkness to pallid ligh-. The
clerks very brain seemed frozen; his
thinking was slow and painful. He
| felt himself an old, Old man, feeble.
tottering, his eyes dim, his blood thin
and icy 1t seemed years ago that
he was in the cellar.
Snail-like, agonizingly. he crawled
by those terrible pipes. He felt as
if he were using somebody else's
hands and fee The cold seemed to
hold him back, closing round him
like a thick, clogging garment. He
moved as if stemming an invisible
current The chill could have been
no deeper in the sunless heart of
glacier. Beams and posts were IL
chenad deep with frost flowers, white
and ghostly.
The dim light grew brighter. He
rounded a corner, and window ap-
peared. the goal for which he had
been striving Had he strength LETT
now to grasp his only hope OF
salty?
There were three windows, one
outside the other. with a screen Of
coarse wire before them to keep the
panes from being broken. Pushing
his fingers through the screen. Char
ley pulled himself TO his feet. Be
yond the iced panes he caught a dim
glimpse of the street. An electric
car flashed by. On the opposite cor
ner stood a policeman. swinging his
night-stick, his badge glittering. The
clerk must tear off the screen, smash
the window, and attract the officers
attention. He shook the wire with
all his might. 1t seemed inmov3ble.
He shook it again with sudden az
cess of strength but still it resist
ed. Hooking his fingers deeper
through the coarse meshes, he saggej
back with his whole weight, until the
screen loosened. With one final mad
wrench, he tore i. clear, tumbling
over backward.
Corey was at the fag-end of his
powers of body and mind. He clawed
himself upright by grasping the sill.
Only three thicknesses of glass sep |
arated him from the summer night. |
1t was all he could do to restrain |
himself from battering blindly a. the |
panes with his unprotected hands: |
but a glimmer Of prudence restrained |
him From a barrel near by project
ed the head of frozen salmon. He
dragged it out. 1t was over yard
long, and stiff as cordwood.
Pulling himself together and stag
gering back a step, he swung his
fishy mace aloft; and with q fiarv
squirt of energy, the last in his long
battle with silence and loneliness and
gloom and deathly cold he hurled the
1regs of his strength into one crash
ing, spintering blow.
Sash and panes gave way in a
linking rain of glass. In gushed the
hot air, as if furnace door had
been suddenly flung open. Corey saw
he policeman start and look up, and
he knew his fight was won. He drop
ped Imply back. unconscious.
He came to in the engine-room, with
he officer and the night engineer
bending over him. For while he lay
1rowsiIy. basking in the welcome
heat. Then he remembered some
hing.
What time is it," he whispered.
Quarter past nine" replied the
policeman. Corey felt relieved. They
we're working overtime that night at
FORD & Hanscoms, and the manager
would still be there. Again he whis-
,ered. and the officer stopped to
,atch his words:
Telephone Mr. Remy that I've
ound those chickens. youths Com
,anion