Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1913-02-19

story just as Mrs. shrimplin began
TO prepare the dressing for the small
turkey that was to be the principal
feature Of their o'clock dinner. The
mornings scanty fall Of snow had
been so added 10 as time passed that
now It completely whitened the strip
Of brown turf in the little side yard
beyond the kitchen windows.
Il think" said Mr. shrlmplin, we
are going TO see some weather. Well,
snow amt q bad thing His
dreamy eyes rested on Custer for an
instant; they seemed to invite
question.
NO" said Custer interroga tively.
II I was going to murder man,
don't reckon I'd care to do it when
there was snow on the ground
Mrs. Shrimplin here suggested Gym
ieally that perhaps he dreaded cold
feet. but her husband ignored this.
To what he felt to be the common
placeness of her outlook he had long
| since accustomed himself He merely
said:
Il suppose more criminals has been
caught because they done their
crimes when It was showing than any
other way Only chance a Teller
would have to get off without leaving
| tracks would be in a balloon. I dom.
know as | ever heard OF a murderer
escaping in balloon, but I reckon
it could be done"
He disliked 10 relinquish such an
original idea, and the subject of
murderers and balloons, with such
ramihcatlons as suggested themselves
to his mind. occupied him until din
ner-time. He quilted the table 10
prepare for his nights work. and at )
o'clock backed wild Bill into the
shafts of his high cart, lighted the
4 Kissing gasolene torch. and mounted
to his seat.
q expect he'll want his head to-
night: he's got a game look he said
to Custer. nodding toward Bill. Then,
as he tucked horse blanket snugly
about his legs, he added: It's a
caution the way he gets over the
ground. | never seen horse that
gets over the ground like Bill does"
! Which was probably true enough,
for Bill employed every known gait.
He's mighty well-broke horse!'
agreed Custer in tone of sincere
conviction.
lie is. He's got more gaits than
you can shake stick at" said Mr..
Shrimplin.
Privately he labored under the de-
lusion that Bill was dangerous; even
years of singular rectitude on Bits
part had failed to alter his original
opinion on this one point, and he
often told Custer that he would have
felt lost with horse just anybody
could have driven. for while Bill
might not and probably would not
have suited most people, he suited
him all right.
We'll, goodbye, son. said Mr.
shrimplin, slapping Bill with the
lines.
Bill went out of the alley back OF
Mr.. Shrimplin's small barn, his head
held high, and taking tremendous
strides that somehow failed in theiI
purpose if speed was the result de-
sired.
Twilight deepened: the snow fell
softly, silently, until it became i
ghostly mist that hid the town-hid
the very houses on opposite sides OF
the street, and through this furry Bill
shuffled with unerring instinct, drag
ging Mr.. Shrimplin from lamp-post &c
lamp post, until presently down the
street q long row of lights blazed red
in the swirling smother OF white.
Custer reentered the house. The
day held the sentiment of sunday
and this he found depressing. Hi
had also dined ambitiously, and this
4 he found even more depressing. He
wondered vaguely, but with no large
measure of hope, If there would be
shedding in the morning. Probably IL
would turn warm during the night;
The knew how those things went. From
his seat by the stove he watched the
hurrying fakes beyond the windows,
and as he watched the darkness came
down imperceptibly until he ceased
to see beyond the four walls of the
room.
Mrs. Shrimplin was busy with her
mending. She did not attempt con-
versation with her son. though she
occasionally cast a CURIOUS glance in
his direction: he was not usually so
silent. All at once the boy started.
.What's that" he cried
LA. Custer. how you startle a
body. It's the town bell. I should
think you'd know; you've heard II
often enough" AS she spoke she
glanced at the clock on the shelf IN
the corner of the room. Il guess that
clocks stopped again" she added, but
in the silence that followed her words
they both heard it tick.
The bell rang on.
at amt half past yet. Maybe it's
a fire." said Custer. He quilted his
chair and moved to the window. l
wish they'd give the ward. They d
ought to. How's a body to know
"set down, Custer commanded his
mother sharply. you amt going
OUT You know your pa don't allow
van 10 go to no fires after night"
you don't call this night He
was edging toward the door.
YES, l dot
"A quarter after ! amt night" he
expostulated.
mo arguments, Custer! You sit
down, | won't have you trapesing
aboue the streets"
Custer turned back from the door
and resumed his seat.
"Why don't they give the ward? l
never heard such a fool way of ring
ing for a fret he said.
They were silent, intent and listen
ing. Now the wind was driving the
sound DANGEROUSLY across the town.
"They amt give the ward yeti" said
Custer at length, in tone of great
d;eg,,st at could ring for fire bet
ter than that"