The Mobridge news. [volume] (Mobridge, Walworth Co., S.D.) 190?-1917, 1910-07-22

dancing; through open windows l
could see pretty brown girls Waiting
with smart brown beaux. Music fioated
out ~agreeably, also many odors. .
You ladies don't really mind him
being here7" Mrs. Browne whispered
at my elbow. He seemed right
young and innocent to go to gaol.
He'd eve feel the same about him
self, after he came out"
Mind him-Mr. Linton? He seems
a nice quiet boy" felt magnanimous
in forgiVing his open dislike.
Now, that's what l say" Mrs.
Browne went on. But a lodger left
TODAY, because Of NE keeping him"
"A ledger left? But why, what did
he do?"
Look at that town." Mrs. Browne
waved a despising hand. There's a
few white people up on the hill, but
much they know or care about a par
eel Of sailors, Just strange young
men. with mothers Of their own at
home, and sweethearts."
Yes, ! noticed he wore a ring"
Mrs. Browne had much to tell.
Yes, and you will notice how bad he
feels when he looks at it, too. And
a gayer boy than he was, three days
ago! But what do people expect?
Keep 'em afoat three months, turn
EN- loose ashore in a black-and-tan
town like this, with money in their
pockets, and not a thing for them to
do! Not a home for the boys to go in,
not a white woman to throw them a
word. What do they expect?" she
broke off impatiently.
And what happened?" She
seemed to await my question.
What happened, miss? Why, the
only thing! There's no decent amuse-
ment here for one white lad, not at
the best Of times, let alone a hundred
and more. There's Just two things
they can do, and getting drunk's not
the worst"
Beyond, IN the avenue of palms, !
could dimly see Frank Liston pacing
to and fro, with bent head, detected
shoulders and the invincibly springy
step of youth
And he could have lodged arrest.
If he'd been willing to quit like the
Others" Mrs. Browne continued.
They'd have never caught him. Easy
enough for a sailor to swing u of
any window in this town. But he saw
the girl was dying"
"The girl?" But this time l was 10
learn without further question.
Eyes, miss. OF course he never
should have been there. You and l
know that. They were all, or most of
them, in one Of those coon joints. /
don't know just how it began, but a
girls black fellow got in, fighting
drunk, of course, with a machete.
Slashed an artery, and she was bleed
ing badly. The other boys lit out. No
n wants to be mixed up In those
rows. By the time the police got in,
there was no n but her and Frank.
He waited to try and stop the flow.
And that's how he's here now, under
surveillance. No friends to go bail
for him, till the trial. Say, you don't
mind, do your" she asked abruptly.
but maybe we'd best not tell your
aunt"
With this l heartily agreed. And
the other lady left" / m~arvelled.
Perhaps being a mother is Just
why" / suggested, watching the lone
ly young figure on its disconsolate
promenade.
Presently the police officers again
interviewed Frank Liston, and Mrs.
Browne further volunteered that they
required him to keep early hours. Not
that he's getting much sleep, these
nights. He's so afraid his people will
catch wind Of 1t, and the girl at home.
He ZONES from New Hampshire, a
country lad, and she's a schoolmarm."
Certainly If a ~creaking couch be
a sign of troubled slumbers, Frank
Lsston spent a night the w~akefulness
of which passed over the partition
between rooms. He tossed and |
tossed, and all the while a sense Of
guilt, OF adding to his troubles, lay
upon me, r~idiculously, Enthusiastically,
but with a shiver Of growing respon-
sibility.
At daybreak he was up, softly
dressing. / could swear that he wrote
a letter. Then came a queer sound, a
click, another. / could not place that
sound, 1t worried me.
Sudden light flooded my room, the
dawnless uopic sunrise. Slipping on
a dressing-gown ! passed out through
open doors into the quiet garden.
Strange dollhouse plants bloomed like
weeds, strange fragrances waited in
owe the harbor. Far TO the right.
long rollers of surf broke on a rocky
promontory, sending up fountains of
cleaning spray. Circling gulls lowered
above the anchored shipping. On the
sea wall a solitary man seemed busy
with some planks. a heavy stone.
Frank Liston! He balanced a stout
board over the water, staying its
earthward end with stone after stone:
then coming back. he picked up a
small object from the gras, 1t gilt
tered in the sun.
Quickly l moved towards him. You
are making a nice diving board, Mr..
Liston, but are there no sharks?"
None get in over that reef you see
yonder. where the water Is light