The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1910-01-22

fOnce more he turned to look
upon the sleeping pair. This time
Ehs lighted the stub Of tallow
candle. The tender. winning
smile in his dark eyes grew to
positive radiance. All, how he en-
WED this great, sleeping way
farer! How beautiful his mis-
tress! How fortunate the lover!
And how they slept-how tired
they were! Whence had they
come? From what distant land
had they Travelled together to
reach this holiday-garnished city
in the hills? vagabonds, tramps!
They were of his world, part of
his family; he knew and had
loved hundred of her sisters, he
was one of a hundred-thousand
brothers to this man.
Why should he stay here to
spoil their waking hour? The
thought came to him suddenly.
No; he would surrender his apart
ment to them. He was free and
foot-loose; he could go elsewhere.
He would go elsewhere.
Softly he tip-toed to his own
corner of the car, looking over his
shoulder with anxious eyes to see
that his movements did not dis
turb them. He gathered up his
belongings: an ancient violin case,
a stout walking stick, a goodly
sized pack done up in gaudy
cloth. a well-worn pair of Sandals
with long, frayed lacings. AS
gently he stole back to the door.
Here he sat down, with his feet
hanging outside the car. Then,
with many a sly, wary glance at
his good comrades, he put on his
sandals and laced them up the
LEG. He tossed a kiss to the
sleeping girl, his dark gypsy face
aglow with admiration and mis-
chief, and was about to blow out
the light of his candle. Then he
changed his mind. He arose and
stood over them again, looking
long and solemnly at the face of
the sleeping girl. All, yes, she was
the most beautiful he had ever
seen--the very fairest. He had
known her sisters, but-no, they
were not like this one. With a
| sly grimace of envy he shook his
fist at the tall man whose leg
lserved as a pillow for the tired
head.
The girl looked wan and tired
land hungry. Poor thing! New
er had he seen one so sweet and
lovely as she; never had he seen
such a shockingly muddy mackin-
| tosh. however, as the one she
wore, never were hands so dirty
as the slender ones which lay
llimp before her. With a deter
mined shake of his head and a
new flash of the eye he calmly
seated himself and began to open
his ragged pack. Once he paused,
startled look in his face. He
caught sight of the revolver at
ITruxton's side for the first time
The instant of alarm passed and
drawer smile than ever came.
All, here was a knight who would
fight for his lady love! Good fell
low! Bravo!
At last his small store of food
LAY exposed. Without hesitation
he divided the pieces of smoked
venison. giving one part to him
self, two to the sleepers; then the
miller's bread and the cheese, and
the bag of dates he had bought
the day before. He tied up his
own slender portion and would
have whist1ed for the joy of it all
had he not bethought himself in
time.
From one Of his pockets he
drew out tobacco and cigarette
papers. With his back planted up
against the wall of the car, his
legs crossed and his feet wiggling
time to the inward tune he sang,
he calmly rolled half a dozen Gig
arettes and placed them, one by
one, beside the feast. One match
from his thin supply he placed
alongside the cigarettes. Then he
looked very doubtful. No; one
might blow out. He must not be
niggardly. So he kept two for
himself and gave three to the
guest at his banquet.
Again he blew kiss to the
prettiest girl he had ever seen
Shutting his candle. he dropped to
the ground and closed the door
against all spying, uncivil eyes.
The first gray of dawn was
growing in the somber east. He
looked out over the tops of cars
and shifted the air. The rain was
over. He knew. A tinge of rec
that none but the gypsy could
have distinguished betrayed the
approach of sunny day. Jaunt-
lily he swung of flown the path
between the lines of cars, his
tickle mind wavering between the
Joys of the coming day and the
memory of the loveliest Roman!
he had ever encountered.
Daybreak found him at the
wharf gates. 1t was gloomy here
and silent; the city above locke
asleep and unfruitful. His heart
was gay; he longed for company
whimsical, careless hearted. he
always obeyed the impulse thai
struck him first. AS he stoof
there, surveying the wet, desert
ed wharf, 1t came to him sudden