Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1911-06-22

"NOthin,' Tnef0 AlN Y any DAdCh Manu-
It's all dope. Just a signature that any
dago uses, like unknown friend.
"You ought to know" said l. but
here we are with this man hanging
around. Take 1t or leave it. should
think there might be story IN 1t
merely from his side. now that you
can really connect him with the as
sal1lt, ANYHOW, I'm going after him. :"
"All right" Mac said, "1'm going
with YOU. Good afternoon, Miss
Tabor"
"Good-by," she called after us: and
thought that she watched US from the
window.
We pursued trolley car and settled
down painting on the rear seat. Mac
loan lay back in . meditative silence,
his hands thrust deep into his trousers
pockets. his shoulders hunched for
ward and his hat on the back OF his
head. staring before him where his
feet doomed up In the distanse. Al the
inn he suddenly Strengthened hlmseil
and slid OF the car.
II thought we were gong up 10
town?" / said as I followed.
He glowered hollowly at me above
a cavernous grin. 1--WE are. But not
in those fannels or that nice new col
lege rah-rah shirt. We'd have the
whole place wonderin' what you want
ed. and the mothers shown their little
ones how real gentleman ought to
look"
"But you're respectable enough" |
protested. laughing. Are we both
going to be disguised?
Disguise nothing. You just want
to cut out the comedy-chorus-man, you
see? Put on a jersey, or anyhow
collar that don't meet In the middle,
an old shoes. me, I look low-life any
way"
rebelled when he rolled my gray
suit into a ball and jumped on 1t. In
the interest of realism. But at last
we got started. On the car, Mac un-
folded his plan OF campaign.
This guinea didn't put the cops on,
because he wanted to get you himself,
YOU see? He's out for the money
the mazume. So he beats 1t up here
and drops Tabor q love-letter But,
he's Just out Of the jug, you see? An
he knows the force'll watch out tor
him. So he'll mix up with lot OF
other dagoes, an maybe get Job day.
times. SOS to have an excuse for bein'
here. Well, he don't love work. but
he does love booze; an he gets
through at FIVE p. m. with an awful
thirst So we'll hunt for him first
where they sell the demon rum"
He dived into tie police rtation,
leaving me standing outside, and
presently emerged with the lust Of the
hunter in his eye.
"I'ye located every cheap red-eye
emporium in our beautiful little city.
Now YOU spot all the fruit stores an
shoeblacks an guinea grocers we pass,
an wen take them later.
you'll have to be careful how you
inquire after him." l said.
II amt. I'm lookin' for his cousin,
Giuseppe, that looks like him. Blue,
an hairy, an tattoo-marks on MS
hands, you said. Come on"
We went through two or three sa-
looms, where Maclean loitered what
seemed to me an unconscionable, time,
weaving into an elaborate discussion
of things in general some curiosity as
to the whereabouts of an Italian debtor
whose name and personal affairs varied
without in the least alter
ing his description. knew that Mac
had an inventive genius, but was as
tonished at its fertility Of detail.
81 didn't expect anythin' In those
Joints" he confided, as we pushed
through a swinging door. They're
peg too good for him. just wanted
to hear myself talk, an get up my
speed Now, this place looks better.
You take settler after this, or cigar.
Their e-medicine'd poison you.
Me, I'm immune"
It was low-ceiled and smoky, and
full of large cuspidors and small tables.
The bottles were fewer, and gllttered
with gilt ornamentation, like the bot
ties in a barber shop. A veil of dingy
netting protected the mirrors.
The bartended was blue.shaven and
delicate, with neat trick OF Siding
bottles and glasses, without upsett1ng
them, several feet along the dark, dull
surface of the bar.
Giovanni Scalpicco been IN TO-
night? ?" Mac asked casually, after
ten minutes Of excise problems and the
pure food law.
eff he has, he amt left his visiting
card" returned the bartender. What
do you think | am-delegate from the
union? l don't keep
tap on every Italian dago that comes
into the place. What kind OF look
in Teller is he?"
81 don't know. They all look alike
to me. On, monkey-faced guy, all
tattooed-works up the line here
little. His wife owes me on SEWN
machine. Told me he was down here.
Seems to me seen that felier.
the bartender reflected. Talks all
chocky. don't he? Yes, he was IN to-
night, about half an hour ago. Made
an argument becuz wouldn't hang
him up-if that's him."
| waited, shutting with Impotence,
while Maclean bought cigars and SLOW
ly changed the subject. Then burst
out of doors SO hurriedly that col
lided with two Misunderstanding 1ndl-
viduals who were coming in.
What shall we do now" de-
manded.
"Take a cigarette instear o that
~. NnN1 0f IT 1t'S