The Breckenridge news. (Cloverport, Ky.) 1876-1955, 1912-09-11

uDi ftdHuS up 0tNt ONtT tntfei
Mrs. Jimmie Wellington took her
time about moving into position, and
her delIberation brought howl OF
wrath from the robber: Get into that
line. you'll"
Mrs. Wellington whirled on him:
How dare you, you brute7" And she
turned up her nose at the gun.
The anxious conductor interviewed:
Better obey, madame; he's an ugly
lad"
Il don't mind being robbed" said
Mrs. Jimmie, but | won't endure
rudeness."
The robber shook his head in de-
spair, and he tried to wither her with
sarcasm: "Pardong, mamselly, would
you be so kind and condescendin' as
to step into that there car before |
blow your husbands gol-blame head
off,"
This brought her to terms. She
FASTENED to her place, but put out a
restraining hand on Jimmie, who need.
ed no restraint Certainly, to save
my dear husband. Don't strike him,
Jimmie"
Then each man stuck one revolver
into its 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 IL those impa-
tient-looking muzzles had not pointed
here, there and everywhere with such
venomous threats.
And 80 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, aud up
; where that jewel or a bill might be
secreted. And always a rough growl
or swing of the revolver silenced
any protest.
Their heinous fingers had hardly
begun to ply, when the solemn still
ness was broken by a chuckle and
low boot of laughter, a darkey's unctu-
Gus laughter. At such a place it was
more shocking than at funeral.
What ails your" 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-a,l are goin' to cit out of me.
Whilst If you had "a waited till 1
! got to Frisco. I'd jest nachelly been
oozin' money"
The robber relieved him of 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 Wedgewoods in
dignant complaint: 81 say, this is an
| outraged"
"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-reaching effect of the whole
procedure was just beginning to dawn
on the porter. This little run on The
bank meant period of financial
stringency for him. He watched the
hurrying hands a moment or two,
then his wrath rose to terrible proper
tons:
Look here, man." he shouted at
the robber. "ain't you-all goin' to
leave these passengers nothin' a tali?"
mot on purpose, niger"
mo small change, or nothin'?"
Mary 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 overlooking 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. 1 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 Overt" And
! rude hand rummaged his pockets
, 1t was a heart-rending sight.
, "Oi oil" he walled, don't you allow
no courtesies to the profession?" And
when the memorable 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