Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1912-05-23
blow your husbands gol-blame head

hastened to her place, but put out
restraining hand on Jimmie, who need.
ed no restraint. "Certainly, to save
Jimmie"
Then each man stuck one revolver
into it's convenient holster, and, GOV.
ering the passengers with the other,
proceeded to frisk away valuables
with a, speed and agility that would
have looked prettier if those impa-
tient-looking muZzles had not pointed
here, there and everywhere with such
venomous threats.
And so they worked from each end
Of the car toward the middle. Their
hands ran swiftly over bodies with a
loathsome familiarity that could only
be resented, not revenged. Their
hands dived into pockets, and up
sleeves, and into women's hair, every.
where that a jewel or bill might be
secreted. And always a rough growl
or a swing of the revolver silenced
any protest.
Their heinous fingers had hardly
| begun to ply, when the solemn still
ness was broken by chuckle and
| low hoot Of laughter, darkey's unctu.
Gus laughter. At such a place it was
more shocking than at a funeral.
"What ais you?" was the nearest
| robbers demand.
The porter tried to wipe his stream
ing eyes without lowering his hands.
as he chuckled on: "I-I-just thought
| of sumpum funny"
Funny" was the universal groan.
81 was just thinking" the porter
snickered, what mighty poor pick
| ings you-all are goin' to git out of me.
Whilst if you had "a waited till I
| got TO Frisco, I'd jest nachelly been
oozin' money"
The robber relieved him of a few
| dimes and quarters and ordered him
| to turn round, but the black face
whirled back as he heard from the
other end of the car Wedgewood's in
| dignant complaint: Il say, this is an
outrage
"Ah, close your trap and turn
round, or I'll"
The porter's smile died away. Good
Lawd." he sighed, they're goin' to
skin that British lion! And | just
wore myself out on him."
The far-reachng effect of the whole
procedure was just beginning to dawn
on the porter. This little run Oh the
bank meant a period of financial
stringency for him. He watched the
hurrying hands moment or two,
then his wrath rose to terrible proper
tions:
Look here man." he shouted at
the robber, "ain't youall goin' to
leave these passengers nothin' tall?"
Not on purpose, niger"
mo small change, or nothing"
"Nary a red"
Then, passengers" the porter pro-
claimed while the robber watched
him in amazement; then passengers,
want to give you-all fair warnin'
heah and now: No tips, no whisk-
broom"
Perhaps because their hearts were
already overtlowing with distress, the
passengers endured this appalling
threat without comment and when
there was a commotion at the other
end of the line, all eyes rolled that
way.
Mr.. Baumann was making an ef.
| fort to take his leave, with great pO.
| likeness.
"Excoose, pleass. l want to get by.
| pleass!"
Get by!" the other robber gasped.
why, YOU"
But I'm not a passenger" Mr..
Baumann urged, with a confidential
smile I've been going through the
train myself"
Much obliged! Hand over!" And
a rude hand rvmmaged his pockets.
1t was heart-rending sight.
"Oi OIL" he walled, don't you allow
no courtesies to the profession?" And
when the inexorabe thief continued
to pluck his money, his watch, his
scarf-pin, he grew wroth indeed. Stop,
stop, refuse to pay. I'll go into bank
ruptcy foist." But still the larceny
continued; fingers even lifted three
cigars from his pockets, two for HIM
self and a good one for customer.
This loss was grievous, but his wild
est protest was: "Oh, here, my frient,
you don't want my business carts"
Keep 'em!" growled the thief, and
then, glancing up, he saw on thr ten
der inwards of Mr.. Baumann's up
held palms two huge glisteners, which
their owner had turned that way in q
misguided effort to conceal the stones.
The robber reached up for them.
Take 'em. You're welcomed" said
Mr.. Baumann, with rare presence OF
mind. 'Those Nevada nearlies looks
almost like real"
Keep EN-" said the robber, as he
passed on, and Mr.. Baumann almost
swooned with joy, for, as he whis-
pered to Wedgewood a moment later:
They're really real!"
Now the eye-chain rolled the other
way, for Little Jimmie Wellington was
putting with rage. The other robber,
having massaged him thoroughly, but
without success, for his pocketbook,
noticed that Jimmie's lett heel was
protruding from his left shoe, and
made Jimmie perform the almost in
credible feat of standing on one foot,
while he unshod him and took out
the hidden wealth.
There goes our honeymoon, Lu-
cretia" he moaned. But she whis-
pered proudly: Never mind, have
my rings to pawn"
"Oh, you have, have you? Well, I'll
be your little uncle" the kneeling rob-
ber laughed, as he overheard, and he