The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1916-04-29

irrelevance. "A good old Irish
MOTHERHOOD know the kind, Father?
Oh, her heart would break If she
could see me now!" with an anguish
cd sigh And those were her very
words-the good God! DO you think
land his haggard eyes questioned the
priest-"do you think He could ever
forgive--a person-for knocking a.
man down and trying-to rob him?"
The last words were in a terrified
whisper, to catch which the priest had
to lean close.
1t was four days later. In Tom
Dalton's room at the hospital there
was what George Naughton called
"a sound of revelry," for the patient
was better, his convalescence helped
on by the arrival of George, always
host in himself as far as entertain
ment was concerned The press dis
patches had carried the news of the
assault back to Pittsburgh and George
had left on the next train for Den
yer. He was weighted down, he
declared, with messages from his
father and mother-and Frances, put
in merely as an afterthought.
"And what about the old duffer who
attacked your he asked at the first
pause in conversation.
Hes dying answered Tom,
rather soberly.
Dying? Well, serves him right.
The car hit him and all but missed
you. It isn't often thief meets re-
tribution so quickly, is it?"
"The poor fellow!'' said Tom
thoughtfully. "Do you know, I feel
rather sorry for him., Father O'Con-
nor has been telling me about him
Sorry for him!" interrupted George
blankly. "Well I'm blessed! Tell
you what" as Tom laughed, eff a
thug up and hit. me over the head,
I'd be sorry for him don't Think"
''But he isn't a thug, really Tom
explained. "He is only a poor I'm.
| fortunate old fellow who was driven
temporarily mad by bad luck and
exposure" ...a
Fine story" said George derisive.
ly. Every holdup man no doubt puts
up the same plea. And old soft
hearted Tom-he's going to let him
go scot free, I suppose?"
Hell be freed all right, Tom an.
swered gravely. Really, George
he added, Il wish you would go to
see him and hear the story from his
own lips"
who, me?" asked George in plain
| but ungrammatical surprise. What
do ! want to see the old duffer for?
Besides, if he's dying-are any of his
people with him."
That's the sad part-T believe he
had no people. George,
Tom went on with unaccustomed
earnestness, Il can't tell you why, but
/ / do fell sorry for the old man.
Here's man who knocked me down.
gave me a broken leg, and worst OF
all, tried to rob me, and yet can't
feel hard toward him. He isn't a
regular thief; he had never robbed
any one in his life, and he wouldn't
have thought of doing it now, only
he had been out of work and hadn't
eatene anything for nearly week
Think of it! And when he was al
most starving he met an old mining
camp chum who took him to saloon
and gave him a drink. That was the
condition he was in when he attacked
me. The queer part of it u.s." Tom
concluded, ''he told Father O'Connol
he didn't want to hurt met was
only the pearl he wanted for his
little girl. But Father is inclined to
think he was wandering when he
said that"
"'The pearl?" asked George in sur.
prise. What pearl?"
4 why" Tom explained in some con
fusion, Il bought pearl for Frances
for Christmas, you know
"Oho!" exclaimed George signifl
cantly, ''the sixteenth pearl! | knew
you were slated for it! Well" pity
ing his friends confusion, do you
really want me to go to see the ole
stage robber?" with a smile.
Il wish you would" was Toms re
: ioinder.
The small ward in which Georges
"stage robber" lay dying was in a
pleasant corner of the hospital with
! a western outlook. The pale, wintry
sun shone softly on the old mans
face, and George was constrained tt
admit that the countenance turned
toward him was prepossessing one
though sunken now in the darl
shadows of death.
"My name is Naughton," sale
George as he took one Of the wasted
hands. I'm friend of Dalton's YOU
know, and he asked me to come tt
see YOU"
The dying man looked up intently
at his visitor. 'Naughton?" he said il
a feeble voice. Il used to know ;
George Naughton here twenty-five
years ago."
''Then you must have known my
father" George said, "for he used tt
: live here. In fact, | was born here"
The sunken eyes regarded thu
young man closely. "Your name j!
George" he said finally, land you have
cousin Frances
That's right" George answered il
growing surprise. "You knew my PEG
pie then?"
The lids fell over the WATCHING
eyes, and there was no immediate
: reply. Then George noticed a tea
Il 1In ~. NH