The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1910-01-24

Copyright, 1909. by George
Barr McCutcheon.)
Copyright, 1909, by Doud,
Mead & Company. Published
Sept, 19O0.)
Sir Vagabond, blissfully swing
ing his heels and munching his
venison. smiled amiably upon the
yard men as he passed them by.
So genial was the smile, so frank
the salutation, that not one
scowled back at him or hurled
the chunk of coal that bespeaks
a surly temper. Down through
the maze of sidetracks whisked
the little train, out upon the main
line with a thin Shrek of greet
ling, past the freight houses-it
was then that Sir Vagabond sat
up very straight, a look of mild
interest in his eyes. Interest
gave way to perplexity, perplexity
to concern. What's this? Leav-
ing the city? He wasted no time.
This would never do! Clutching
his belongings to his side, he
vaulted from one hand, nimbly
and with the gracefulness of wide
experience, landing safely on his
feet at the road side.
There he stood with the wry,
dazed look of man who sudden
ly finds himself guilty of arrant
stupidity. watching the cars whiz
past on their way to the open
country. Just ahead was the
breach in the wall through which
all trains entered or left the city.
Into that breach shot the train,
going faster and faster as 1t saw
the straight, clear track beyond.
He waited until the tail end
whisked itself out of sight in the
cut below the city walls, and then
trudged slowly, dejectly in the OPP
posite direction, his heart in his
foots. He was thinking of the
luckless pair in the empty box"
Suddenly he stopped, his chin
up, his hands to his sides. A
hearty peal of laughter scared
from his lips. He was regarding
the funny side of the situation.
The joke was on them! 1t was
rich! The more he thought. of
their establishment on awaking.
the more he laughed. He leaned
against car.
His immense levity attracted
attention. Four or five men ap-
preached him from the shadows
of the freight houses, ugly I'M
smiling fellows. They demanded
of him the cause of his unseemly
mirth. With tears in his merry
black eyes he related the plight
of the pretty slumberers, dwell
ing more or less sentimentally on
the tender beauty of the maiden
fair. They piled him with ques-
tions. He described the couple
even glowingly. Then the SIMS
ter fellows smiled; more than
that, they clapped each other on
the back and swore splendidly.
He was amazed and his own good
humor gave way to fierce resent
ment. What right had these ruff
fans to laugh at the misfortunes
of that unhappy maid?
A switchman came up, and one
of the men, lank American
whom we should recognize by the
sound of his voice (having heard
it before), asked whittier the train
was bound and when 1t would first
stop in its flight.
"At the Poo quarries, seventeen
kilometers down the line. They
cut out a few empties there. She
goes on to the division point after
that"
ANY trains up from that direc-,
ton this morning?" demanded
Newport"
mot till this afternoon. Most
of the crews are In the city for
the" But the switchman had no
listeners beyond that statement.
And so 1t was that the news
spread over town at five o'clock
that Truxton King was where he
could do no harm. 1t was well
known that the train would make
forty miles an hour down the
steep grade into the lower valley.
Up into the city strolled Sir
vagabond, his fiddle in his hand,
his heart again as light as a
feather. Some day---ah. some