The Holbrook news., 1916-11-03


 with the same commodity.
 The night was cold and since eight o'clock a steady drizzle had soaked through the clouds and made every thing thoroughly wet and every one compelled to be out in it thoroughly miserable.
 Orders had gone out to "clean the town" and officer Carey had worked hard, all day. giving cheap crooks, "coke fiends'' "hop heads" and other undesirables the high sign"
 He had started home when, thinking a glass of beer would not be bad after his labors. he entered a Market Street saloon. Upon entering he noticed a skinny figure lurking near the lunch counter and recognized il as Tights habitual drunkard. twenty-nlne years of age-residence none, Occupation- none" as the blotter at the station often quoted.
 When sober Tights was a sinking. slipshod, nonenity who would wash cuspidors, clean windows. accept abuse or be the butt of the vilest practical jokes, for liquor. What little he ate was the offscourings of the free lunch counters. The wreck of what had once been man and. so ran the leg end. one of the cleverest performers
  lance, the high traps" the Greatest Show on Earth" ever had.
 A fall had taken his nerve and he had drifted until he became a thing which even the nigger porters pitied and yet scorned =
 Carey, the officer, never saw Tights but what hIs gorge rose and. seeing the miserable object lowering near the counter to snatch a bit of chesse or bite of bread when he thought himself unobserved. a look of disgust and anger swept across his face.
 In two strides he had grasped the thin arm of the figure and dragged 1t to the bar.
 Tights" he said. I'm going to give you the tune of your life. I'm going to see you swirl booze un it runs out a your ears an then I'm going 10 push you on or under a frelghI-I don't care damn which it is. If l ever see yuh in thIs berg again I'm gOin' to run you down the first alley and stomp your guts out. Now you swine, drink!"
 From one saloon to another towards the ievee they went. In each one Carey ordered beer or whiskey for Tights and the latter drank; drank the last drink as if it were the first and hls whole being craved the st1mulant. As Broadway was reached and they swung into a saloon of the better class, Carey muuered, This is your finish"
 Pulling the rag-like Tights to the bar he called the bartender.
 ''Souse this swIne," he ordered The bartender, with a disgusted look at Tights took long glass from beneath the bar, poured an assortment of li- Quors into it and put foamy crown of beer on the mixture.
 He put it before Tights, winked at Carey and sald Call the wagon. It's a sure knockout"
 He gets no wagon in this town again." snarled Carey. I'll put him on the rods of the first through train out and pray to God he falls under the wheels as soon as they are outside the city limits."
 Best thing for him." agreed the bar-keep, looking at Tights as if he were an animal of some kind, He certainly aint worth man killin'."
 Hes a dirty yellow dog" roared Carey, The aint got the guts God gave geese. He's cur. Spit in his face" he admonished the bar-keep, as some one would say Poke stick at him" of some caged animal.
 The bar-keep with perfect sangfroid did as the officer directed and Tights merely wiped his face with his sleeve, smirked and said, "Aw, quit your foolin'.''
 The proprietor of the place who had seen and heard all now came forward. Take that thing outa here Carey, or I'll kill it" he ordered.
 With his open hand Carey slapped -1T~ s<-I,+ the door and swung him around. Bid him goodbye" he said, You'll never see hlm again if you change your ways and go to heaven" and with this bit of humor he dragged the smirking Tights into the street.
 And so-as the beer train shrieked its way into the night, Tights, lying on a board placed across the rods closed his eyes and slept.
 He was thrown off at several towns, begged liquor in a dazed way and when the marshal at last caught him was always hustled aboard some out- going, west bound freight and ordered to leave.
 The explanation was simple. To his back Carey had tightly pinned a handkerchief on which was printed in ink:
 Cant work-A Bum. Keep Him Going West.-Chief, St. Louis."
 At last Tights found himself be- heath water tank in strange coun- try. How he got there he did not know or care. A terrible thirst was upon him that water would not quench.
 He was a mass of quivering flesh. Every nerve in his body shrieked aloud for the alcohol on which it had fed for so long.
 His clothes were rags. His flesh caked with dirt, his body was vermin infested from the top of his head to his feet He was weak, sick, semi delirious and like an animal that feels death drawing near, Tights looked for some hole into which he might crawl.
 A small lean-to built at one time to protect cement sacks stood near the tank, the dripping from which had formed a small gulley beneath 1t, which now ran possibly an inch deep with water.