The Clio messenger. (Clio, Mich.) 1907-current, 1915-10-15

package of tobacco that took my most
valiant efforts to keep alight.
Not only that, but l had an inter
esting conversation with three nigh.
firemen on the railroad regarding the
relative merits of corncob and clay
pipes while We were crossing the fer
ry. I'd played a number of roles in
my day and this was only one more.
The shuffling of the weary laborer
was assumed as 1 covered the distance
from the ferry to Kennedy's place
The excitement that had been keep
ing me up was gone. I was dead for
sleep, and 1t needed every bit of will
I had to drag one foot after the 9th.
er. / was almost staggering when
finally reached my destination.
Ken was just opening up for the
day when I got there, and as lurched
through the door my face grimed with
countless layers of mud and coal-dust,
my hands sight, my hat a shapeless
mess, and the overall-suit black with
engine grease. he looked up.
cit out, we dirty hobo." he roar
ed at me.
The two or three early morning
workmen grinned, but l kept right on.
His keen eyes recognized me as I
reached the bar, but he did not let
on.
Maybe it is that We have the price
Of beer" he sneered, with a fino
humor that is always good for a
laugh in place like that.
Gimme BOOZE" 1 croaked huskily,
throwing a quarter on the bar.
""Tis case of mistaken ident'y I
was havin'," he grinned. Eye can 80
in an sit down for the price of that"
l took the liquor and change and
went to seat in the far corner of the
back room. In ten minutes or so the
bar was empty and he came back.
Mother of Mary" he bagan, but
cut him short.
Il want Sleep" I could hardly keep
my eyes open as / said it. 81 want
clothes, too"
"Git up-stairs-the bartenderll be
in at five"
knew the way, and in the little
| kitchen where we'd talked the night
before scrubbed the CRIME from my
face and hands. The cold water kept
me awake till Mike came up abou:
twenty minutes later.
did we see him." he whispered as
he closed the door tight.
told him what 1 had found, and he
breathed weird Irish oaths at my
story.
"'Tis on'y by the grace of God my
bartender went home to his folks last
night without comm upstairs. An
towld him ye'd taken a bit too much
an was sleepin' was fearin' some
thin would happen and that ye'd need
a abby"
He put his hand on my shoulder like
J my father would have done if I had
ever known him. "Ye know, Jimmy.
boy'-he said fondly - that ri
swear We spint the night here if they
give me stack of Bibles mile
high"
II know it." smiled YEARLY.
"Take me bed an I'll get we some
clo'es." He showed me the neat little
bedroom and wrothfully thrust aside
my proffered wallet. "The buds won't
be the siventy-doIlar kind we are used
to wearin, but they look enough like
them we wore last night to pass the
hotel people till we get Others"
you're a good scout, Ken" I nut
tered sleepily. Wake me at nine
four hours is all I need"
"But I'm fearin' Jimmy" he
croaked; I'm fearin' the divil wild n
stone eyes"
Nonsense" I grinned feebly. I'll
he don't let up-I'll tell-it won't send
him to the chajr-but it'll be uncom
Portable while" / was asleep even
as / said it.
don't know where Kennedy got the
clothes or how, but when he walked
me they were laid on a chair along
side of the bed. He held newspaper
in his hand and there was curious
look on his face.
whats the matter?" I demanded
"Ye said It was fear We saw in his
eyes," he said slowly, solemnly. Ill
wasn't! II was DEATH"
"Quit croaking!" l laughed. The
sleep had made new man of me.
"'Twas death that was in tn store
eyes of him." he repeated doggedly
holding out the paper.
snatched it eagerly. On the front
page was big story of the murder
News was evidently slow in New
York, for the story was a feature OF
the yellow sheet.
read the account OF the rain-coat
ed stranger and smiled at the fact
that dogs had been put on the trail
at daylight.
The man I had hit at the path or
trance was the town-judge, and he
was at his home nursing a sore jaw