The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1916-08-26

It. AIOUuQ HUI, Ou JUG uOOT, III tue seats, in the racks and on the hooks, were innumerable packages, bags and bundles.
 Next morning as the train slowed down for the desert town Winthrop was in the vestibule, peering out anx- iously. It did not occur to him that Overland Red knew nothing of his coming or that the other would be waiting on the station platform if he did. The tramp had not the faintest desire to make himself conspicuous. Some of Winthrop's enthusiasm had evaporated during the hot night in the sleeper.
 He watched the train crawl down the track. He wondered how long he would be able to distinguish the pat tern of the brasswork on the obseIva- tion car rail.
 Out of the empty distance came the click, clinl, clank of hammers and shovels as the section men, mile down the track, stepped into work be- hind the train.
 "Prospectin'Y' queried lank indi- vidual. slouching. up to Winthrop.
 "A little," said Winthrop. Its pret- ty dry work"
 "Uhuh. It's goin' to be hot about noon."
 'I suppose so. Will you kindly give me a hand with this monstrosity?" said Winthrop, indicating the pack. ''The agent seems to be busy"
 i-y jrht
 Which proved to be true. The bun dle with kind of animate indiffer- ence slowly sagged, opened, and things began to trickle from 1t in its journey across the platform. Among the things was a bottle of brandy. The lank individual picked this up tender ly and set it to one side. Winthrop noticed his solicitude and smiled.
 "We can rope 'em up again." said the lank one, suddenly becoming en- thusiastic. My naEe's Jim Hicks. I'm constable here."r,
 q see. We'll, I'm William winthrop. from Los Angeles. I'm a naturalist. Will you accept a-cfgar?" Thanks. You want to pack this here bottle tool"
 Mot right away. Whew! It is get ting hot"
 "Goin' up to the hotely' queried the constable.
 Winthrop glanced along the street The hotel did not look inviting. q don't know. I'd like to get in the shade somewhere" There's old Fernandos 'dobe down the track under them pepper trees. He's a friend of mine. He ain't to home today. Mebby you'A like to set "My friend?"
 "Why, ain't you wsitin' for any body? You 4ain't goin' to tackle that bug huntin' trip alone, be you? It's dangerous out there for tenderfoot Now, I have took folks out and brought 'em back all right-gone as far as them hills over there, and that's a good jag from here-and only charge $4 a day and grub"
 q thought you said you were con- | stableT
 "So I be. Takin' parties across the | desert is on the side. How far you fgurin' on goin'?'' "I haven't made up my mind yet. Say we go down as far as the adobe you spoke about as a beginning. Per haps we can arrange terms" "I'm on, pard," said the constable. Under the pepper trees shading Fer | nando's adobe sat Winthrop and the | constable. The brandy bottle was half empty, and box of cigars was open beside it on the bench. The afternoon ! shadows were lengthening. The con- stable had been discursive, voluminous in his entertaining. Time was as noth- ing. He borrowed generously of to- morrow and even the next day. He became suddenly quite fond of this quiet, gentlemanly chap opposite h.ll
 who said little, but seemed to be a prince of good fellows. | "'S this way" said the constable, leaning forward and waving his cigar: You're fr'en' of mine-sure thing $ afternoon now, but was plumb fooled this mornin'. Y know is afternoon now. Thought you was the guy I'm 1 lookin' for. H'overland Red-bum- i tram. Wire from Loshangeles to up- peran' him if he shows up here. See?-
 You're not quite clear to me-" re- piled Winthrop. But never mind about apprehending any one. Let's talk about this glorious prospect of sand, silence and solitude. I feel like fallen an- gel. Never mind about arresting any body. Life is too short. Let's talk of | rosea"
 "Roshes! Huh!' sniggered the con- stable. You're kin of sof', ain't you? Roshes nothin'. I'm goin' talk bout business. It's business, my business, to talk bout it. See? 'Tain't your business. You c'n lissen, an when get through then you c'n talk roshes.''
 "But what is your business?' asked Winthrop, with an indifference that he did not feel.
 "S-s-s-h-h! I'm constable. Tha's on the quiet Thousand dollars rewar fir tn appr'enshun of 'Verlan' Red