The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-06-09

IsIIllat!IlAalIIilIiIltllisIilIIIIIN N
 shut on that. When I'm kicked out. 1t be diff'rent story. That's black
 ma1l again. if you iil1e.''
 nervous. gray-haired man at the
 saying: "
 Its scarcely needfuI, MT. Conovsr
 to adopt that tone For the sake of
 the clubs good name. we are simply lnqulrlng into the truth of certain re-
 ports or the way your money was
 It's my own business how it was
 made, MT. Hawarden," countered Caleb
 Ihe way l spend it is anybody's busi-
 ness An when leave this Club I'm w1llin' to make public the accounts of some Of my disbursements'
 Though the retort was not rough of tone and seemed quite harmless,-even vapldZof meaning. Hawarden all at once dropped out of the dispute. In vain die several of his fellow Com | mttteemen who had relied on him to press the prosecution, signal for a re-
 newal of attack. Thenceforth. through out the session. Hawarden was gloom lily mute. But there were others to | carry on the attack he had so unex- | pectedly abandoned. Notably a downy | ish's right.
 Tt is said. MT. Conover.' observed | the new assailant. with an air of
 nervous relish. that your father was | a convict
 | Again the murmur of deprecation at | the bland brutality of the assault | Caine leaned far forward, hoping to | catch a glimpse of Caleb's silhouetted | face. and half expecting to see the | downy-haired accuser tossed bodily | from the window.
 For an instant. Conover made no
 reply. His cigar had gone out and he was busy fumbling for a match. But | when he did speak. it was with per
 feet. unaffected calm.
 'Yes. MT. Vroom.'' he said. My | father was convict. He may be one l again, by this time, for anything I
 know I've never set eyes on the old
 crook since the day they sentenced
 him to five years in the pen" | He puffed at his cigar. Then rambled | on. half to himself:
 T was, ten years old then. It was | my birthday, I remember The old
 man had a job in the c. G. & x. coal | yards. I came home early from school
 Ma had promised me a birthday cake | with candles for supper. She an dad i had planned to have some measly little | celebration for me. an take me to | variety show in the evenin'. I ran
 home all the way from school. When | got to the eminent, there was | crowd of gapin' kids an women around
 of cops with Dad between 'em: an Ma | followed with her apron over head 1 cryin' to break her heart I remember | she still had one of those silly birth l QaV candles Sr1ppeQ Tn ner ndnQ. Sne O
 been putin it onto the cake when the | cops came. After that there wasn't
 any talk of birthday sprees in the Con- | over flat. It was up to us to hustle.
 An we did. My mother went out washin' an as a floor -scrubber. An, I
 got a job as tally boy in the c. G. 6 | x. yards. That was my start" He paused again, looked thought
 fully at his cigar ash and went on in
 more business-like tone.
 | MT VrOOrn my father was a | convict. Not much of one; but as
 much as his small chances allowed.
 He was only weigher at the coal scales He fixed the scales an took his rake l off. That was all. It went on for a | couple of years. We got the only | square meals I'd ever ate. durin' that
 time. Then he was sent up; an'-well | Ma wasn't used to scrubbin'. She took | pneumonia an died the year before
 Dad got out. He never came back to | our neighborhood. an I haven't seen
 him since. He may be dead or in jail | or mine owner. for all know-or | care. I'm sorry, for the sake of your | arg gment. he wasn't more of @ criminal | MT. Vroom. Now, if he'd been indict-
 ed for misappropriation of the Or 1 phan'S Home trust funds. like your | wife's brother was an his family had | had the indictment quashed by payin'
 the right parties SIS, ,4O0-''
 l You are out of order, MT Conoverr'
 rebuked Standish. in answer to look
 of frenzied protest from Vroom- Your | retort is-''
 | 'Ts dead-true; an I've the means of | layin" my hands on the proof" finish
 ed Caleb. I'd do it, too-just for the
 sake of punishin' a cur-if the CUTS
 brother-in-law. MT. Vroom. didn't hap | pen to be a clubmate of mine.'' | With a man like this on our rolls.' .''
 fumed an elderly Governor. 'We shall ! lose our reputation for
 l ''If some of you fellers could get rid
 of your reputations," interrupted I 1n1. F i,, 1oIy
 A man at Standish's left had risen
 and was waiting moment of silence
 in which to speak. He was nattily l clad in blue reefer and white duck
 table beside him. Every inch of his
 stalwar1t body from the curling black | hair and pink cheeks down to the inn
 macu1ate white canvas shoes bespoke l a perfection of grooming that seemed
 vaguely redolent of scented soap and
 tailors' models. His full red lips were curled back now from a double set of
 ultra-pearly teeth, and his eyes, which | Desiree ShevIin had disrespectfully
 likened to twin chocolate pies, were | glasSy with wrath.
 Well. Brother BIacarda," hailed Conover, breaking off in his reply as
 his gaze rested on this latest opponent
 who stood threatenfngly above him, | What have you got to say. Did you
 come to congratulate me on the Steel | old win-out, or have you somethin' to | adQ to the DOkayS that your ICtle | friends here have been tossin' at me? | Speak up, mani Stop lookin' like
 'This-Nobby-Sty an say what
 you've got to-
 | You've played a. trick on my Steel
 old Company" sputtered Blacarda, l that ought to land you in States
 Prison with your crook father. A
 trick that ought to put you out of the | society of decent men. It will cer-
 tainly put you out of this Club. E>ith-
 CT you leave the Arareek or do.' l Well, now that's too bad, Bla- | carda.' purred Caleb. "Us chappieS
 at the Club will be real sorry to lose
 you. But if you must go,-why take
 my blessin' with you.''
 | t'This man, gentlemen" pursued Bla-