The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1914-08-11

arm, crossed the station platform and fixed an electric light bulb.
 s'I know, it's comic opera guessed WaIlingford. 'Who wants to read about my trunk hinge?'
 ssThe Spanglerville city council. I'm the official baggage carrier and he clomped away.
 .sDon't you get t?" laughed Blackie Daw. "His is a political job. The other one is the official bulb hxer and here comes the official bus driver. I've seen municipal ownership towns, Jim, but this one must be the linnit.''
 ssThat means there isn't live dollar in the burg, and our trains pulling out" regretted Wa1lingford, and with some disfavor he viewed the approach of the official bus driver, who wore blue band on his cap and carried a grin full of holes.
 Good evening, gents" hailed the tooth shy officer. q got two good seats left in the grand stand" and he produced a pair of faded blue past boards from which the printing had long since worn away. q reckon most of the councilmen have sold their regu- lar seats by this time, but these is good. Front row, right next to the official box
 We're in luck, Jim,'' declared B1ackie, inspecting the penci1ed num- bers on the tickets and slipping them into his pocket q was afraid we wouldn't get seats at all. By the way, Sergeant, what are they for2'
 tsWhy, don't you know ?'' inquired the driver in surprise. eIt's the regular Saturday night festival. Why, people come from miles around, from all these summer resorts and health cures, to see the fireworks. The city council makes a heap of money off of lem. The whole courthouse steps is covered with a grandstand that's left there winter and summer,'
 Don't people ever have business in the courthouse? P asked Wallingford.
 The driver paused to help the lug gage carrier lift trunk on top of the bus. They go in by the back door, he briefly explained.
 Do we get ice cream cones ?' de manded Blaekie.
 Anything you want" asserted the officer largely. s@The city council ain'i overlooISin' any chances .''
 'sThey must be the leading industry ;. 1 surmised WalIingford
 tsThey're right peart lot," assented 1 the official driver, as the muscular boy approached with the last trunk. .Some of 'em's been in the council fifteen year I've held office twelve year myself. Dc you know how much money there is il the city treasury P
 ser1l bite consented Wai1fngford srWhat's the answer?"
 'sNigh on to $1oO, O,o0or' proudly stated the citizen.
 And what might your business bef' | asked the office holder looking bacl with cordial interest
 'Hush!'' warned Blackie in a hoars, whisper, and, leaning forward, he con fded, ssWe are detectives
 You don't say sop responded th, shocked driver in the same breathIes fashion. 'sWho are you after?''
 Maybe you can help us" went ol .Blackie solemnly, though wincing iron the pain of vigorous kick that Wal Hngford had secretly administered
 Do anything can for you offered the driver so hastily that he forgot t whisper. q don't reckon there's any body in town better posted than me.s
 Being an official suspector, I sus pected as> much,'' returned Blackie keenly interested. taThere is a man fl this town who goes away every little while, and no one knows where hs goes or why.''
 tro Be continuea.1
 Celery Plants, 15c Per Dozen