Arizona republican., 1911-05-13

Tank got up straightway. He flung his cigar from him, and stretched d heavy, almost fatherly hand on Dunnes shoulder.
 My boy" he said, "vou're ou q wrong lead. Kathryn said last night you'd think that, but I told her no, you wasn't such blamed fool. That little girl is my daughter"
 The Boss, with all his roughness, uttered the last words with infinite tenderness. As he spoke, his small blue eyes filled with tears, and q shaky spot appeared in the center oi his huge chin.
 Your daughter" exclaimed Dunne, in amazement, half whispering the words: Your daughter? Kathryn Moore your daughter? I thought why. I thought did not know you had a daughter"
 Yes" said Tank, speaking in a low reminiscent way, with a voice of deepest gravity, in tones so solemn and tender that Dunne thought he had never heard any priest, or preacher. or actor approach them: Yes, she is my daughter"
 "Then her name is not Moore? he asked stumbling and clutching at the different features of the startling revelation as they presented them selves 10 his mind.
 Yes" said the Boss, breathing heavily, and laboring under strong emotion Her lame is Moore. My name is not Tank. That's only a nickname. they gave me in another town. Without much I c'n tell you tha story no man ever heard before. Twenty-twO years ago yesterday l come in from a spree to find my wife dead, and our little baby. Kathryn, beside her cryin' with hunger. No, I hadn't killed her. I never struck her. I never gave her a harsh word. She was frail little thing. I just killed her by neglect. In them days I was nothin' but a sponge, lush. Q tank That's what the boys called me, and that poor little girl just broke her heart. Well, it sobered me. I crcpt out and got a drink of liquor on jawbone for myself, and on some more iawbone l got a drink of milk for the baby. There ain't many words said over a drunkard's wife when she dies, and the next day I took the baby and left the place. But before 1 left that room, l, sot at twenty three, stood up and promised AL mighty God that I'd do for the girl what I failed to do for her mother, and I crossed my heart, and said. An so help me. God, I'll make a man of myself, too So I got her into a Catholic Home. and drifted around for a few months. tryin' to work when could, and readin' some and studyin' l thought maybe I'd be a second George Washington or an Abraham Lincoln, but nothin' didn't come of that I wasn't built right or bred right. I was cradled too close to the gutter, I guess. Well, after a while, l struck this town. I hadn't made a start yet, because I couldn't seem to get place to start from. About the time 1 landed here. I got an idea that the place for a feller to start from is right where he is. I was just bar room bum, and right there I woke up and got onto myself, and started-in the bar room. I quit tankin' so much and took to hangin' out close up to Mike Hennessy's free lunch counter. 1 cleaned out spittoons and took out old sawdust and put down the fresh. l used to help carry the drunks up- stairs to sober off. and the like of that. got into better physical condition, too, and, one night when they was a big row in Mikes place. and it looked like shootin' and a lot of it. climbed in amongst them, and cuffed a few fellers out and bluffed some more, and took away about a bushel basket full of guns from 'em. Then I sent 'em home in different di- rections When it kind of quieted down. Mike sticks his head out from under the bar:
 Whats your name, cove?' he says.
 Dan Tank says I, and that day I buried Dan Moore forever. We'll, Dan Tank says Mike, you're on the payroll from now on. You sleep up stairs and you live off the counter and there's five a week besidesl
 "That give me start. My long suit was handlin' the rough necks, and I been handlin' 'em ever since. That's why I'm boss. I've always drunk some. but I've never been drunk since I struck this town. I've never seen a feller on his uppers that I wouldn't help him if I could, and every time I've helped one he's sort of wanted