Meade County news., 1915-09-09

W "Oduh GCdITs
fore you get tired, pitch the thing into
the river and go about your business
If you open it, it'll conjure you worse
than any Obi-man you ever heard Of"
mo. sub! l amt gwine open hit,
Cap'm-not if deys cunjah in hit; no,
suh!"
We'll, there is-the worst kind of
conjure this old world has ever known.
But 1t won't hurt you if you don't
meddle with 1t. Keep your wits about
you and be ready to grab it and run.
Here we 60"
The pilot had found his wharfage
and was edging the Belle Julie up to
1t. The bow men paid out slack, and
Griswold and the black, dropping
from the swinging stage, trailed the
end of the wet hawser up to the near.
est mooring ring. Griswold bade the
negro keep watch and knelt to knot
the hawser in the ring. While the
negro sentinel was stammering,
"L-l-lookout, Mars Cap'm!" the trap
was sprung.
In Difference to the upcoming pas
senger from the Belle Julie, the two
man catchers tried to do their job qui-
etly. But Griswold would not have it
so, and he was up and had twisted
himself free when a blow from a
dubbed pistol drove him back to his
knees. Half stunned by the clubbing,
he still made shift to spring afoot
again. to drop his handkerchief bundle
and kick it aside, and to close with his
assailants while the negro was snatch
ing up the treasure and darting away
among the freight pyramids. After
that he had but one thought; to keep
the two plain-clothes men busy until
the negro had made his escape. Even
this proved to be forlorn hope, since
the smaller of the two instantly broke
away to give chase, while the other
stepped back. spun his weapon in air,
and leveled it.
Rage-blinded as he was, Griswold
knew that the leveled pistol meant
surrender or death. When his captor
had handcuffed him and was walking
him toward a closed carriage drawn
up before the nearest saloon in the
river-fronting street, ne ventured to
ask what he was wanted for.
You'll find that out soon enough"
was the curt reply, and nothing more
was said until the carriage was
reached and the door had been ierked
open. Get in" commanded the mai
esty of the law, and when the door
was slammed upon the captive, the
plain-clothes man turned to the driver,
little wizened Irishman with face
like shriveled winter apple. What
time does that New Orleans fast train
pull out?"
Griswold heard the reply: "Sivin-
forty-five, sorr," and something in the
thin, piping voice gave him fresh
courage. Through the open window
Of the carriage. he saw his captor
glance at his watch and begin an i'm
patient sentry beat up and down un-
der the electric transparency advertis-
ing the particular brand of whisky
specialized by the saloon. He was evil
IDENTIFY waiting for his colleague to
bring in the negro, and time passed.
The spring evening was raw and
chilly, and the open doors of the sa-
loon volleyed light and warmth and a
beckoning invitation. Griswold's gift.
prostituted to the service of the
changed point of view, bade him read
in the red face, the loose lip and the
bibulous eyes the temptation that was
gripping the plain-clothes man.
BY careful contortion of the man
acled hands, which seemed suddenly
to have become endowed with the
crafty deftness of the hands of pick
pocket, he found his working capital
in a pocket of the short-sleeved coat.
1t had been diminished only by the
hundred dollars put into John Gavitt's
hands. and the twenty he had given