Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-02-04
SUNDAY MAGAZINE FOR FEBRUARY f. 1912
ALL THE MONEY IN THE WORLD

the possession of Red Head, never occurred
to them.
waited for school to let out, heavy with
the fear that at the last moment Red Head
would say, "You may all go-except Paulle.
But the dispensing bell rang; we grabbed
our hats and books and dived for the door;
and no OBTAINING voice reached me. | will
admit that it must have been an unusually
loud voice that could have stopped me. l
made all the noise that could as | went out,
with the idea that if Red Head really called
me could say next day:
81 didn't hear you, Miss Anderson. The
bows was maxim such noise!' | had tried
that, and it had done fairly we'll on occasions.
So fastened out of the schoolyard, at the
head of a sycophantic band of followers,
serene in the belief that Red Head had for
gotten to punish me for my indiscretlons,
and that she considered it a perfectly natural
affair for me to be going around with pock-
etful of nickels. Alas! Little did | know
the revenge she was planning!
A S l say, was the worshiped of the syco-
"A plants. | had never been more than
ordinarily popular with my fellows; but this
afternoon | was the beloved of all. Tom
Cuniff, who was two classes ahead of me, and
thirteen or fourteen, fairly devoured me with
his attentions. The only previous time that
Tom Cuniff had ever noticed me, so far as |
could recall, was once when | refused to shay
a ball for him and he boxed me on the ear
and pushed me into mud puddle. But here
was Tom Cuniff walking famiiarly at my
side, and, when others tried to crowd me a
little, saying with growl
"Here, you kids stop shown Paulie! Him
and mes friends: We're goin' somewhere,
ain It We Paule?"
"Y-yes," said l, wondering where it was,
but imagining land quite right l was too)
that it was One Arm Jake's.
Along the way Tom discoursed on several
topics, interrupting me only by his task of
chasing the rest of the boys away from me.
Once we had to run little, because Archie
Rowland and George Breitenstein, outraged
at being deprived of the pleasure of renewing
their earlier companionshlp with me and my
wealth, fired rocks at us from distance.
But Tom protected me. He wouldn't see a
hair of my head hurt, he said.
oyer good little teller, Paulie, he told
me. "You bet you are! The finest little
Teller l know! Say, have We seen them ten
cent bats down to One Arm .Jake's? Don't
We want to buy one O them?'
"I-I guess so, said l. | had not thought
of it till then; but somehow Tom convinced
me that wanted ten-cent bat more than
anything else in the world. Also a reg1ar
baseball, the cover sewed in two pieces, and
a scorecard, and-well, whatever happened
to suggest itself to the fertile mind of Tom
Cuniff
When we reached One Arm Jake's it was
Tom Cuniff's strong arm that held open the
screen door for me to enter. 1t was Tom
Cunif who glowered upon the imprisoned
throng without and forbade their entering
after me.
Cant We let Paulie alone?' he demanded.
"Dye think he's goin' ter spend all his
money on youse kids? Leave him be, or"
A threatening swing of his arm made them
fall back terrified; but they could not be
driven away from the door, against which
they pushed one another, sending comment
in upon us.
Jaw, who wants to come in? He amt got
no money, anyway Wait till we ketch him
alone! Don't we buy him nothin, Paulie
Say, Paulie, don't we remember the time |
let we use my sled when yourn was broke?
Hey, Paulie, don't be stingy!"
In the face of so much 1attery and threats
l was like a reed in the March wind knew
not what to do, whittier to turn. was full
of the desire to treat all alike; but Tom
Cuniff would not have it so.
0NE ARM lake looked with diSfavOr