Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1917-01-18

spotless white shirt front and a sub
stantial black bow tie? What did it
mean when Red Whitley. decorated
in green tie. went back to the tap
and washed his face.
What have you guys turned up?"
demanded Mike Dowd, his curiosity at
last past bearing
"Oh, nothin'." 1t was Jerry-the-
Limp who gave this nonchalant reply;
Jerry. who had adjusted every cravat
and critically inspected it, who had
turned up Piggy Marshalls trousers
band, so that it did not lop in rag
ged gray edged line over the top of
his belt, who had sent Red Whitley
shuffling sullenly back to wash his
face second time, with instructions
to use soap and brick or quit the
party. Jerry, even now, was going
nervously from one to the other of
his forces, and ordering the adjust
ment of buttons.
Here, you bum," Jerry command
ed Piggy Marshall; didn't l tell you
to wet your hair when you combed
"Nothin', eh!" growled Mike, view
ing the resplendent quartet askance.
IF you stiffs pull anything phoney
around this corner and get the Chi
cago Buffet in bad, I'll pike you!"
'Aw, give that stuff the double
bell, Mike" husked Piggy Marshall.
lounging over against the bar and
twisting his neck to comfortable
settling in his collar. Were just
goona call on a friend"
oh" and Mikes yellow mustache
went up. The Tombs or the Island 2"
Cant a guv have friends that
never cracked a rock?" he demanded.
This friend O. ours -"
Shut your yawp, you fat sl9b!"
suddenly blazed Jerry-the-L Limp. "If
III cave in your hoops" and he
shook a bony fist at the offending
brother. Red, amt you got that
map scraped yet?"
You go to hell" yelled the suffer-
ing Red Whitley from back at the
tap. Il got soap in my eye!"
You don't know how to use it,"
drop you off the wagon. Two slugs
and two scuttles, Mike" and, with
the recklessly eXtravagant air which
went with his celluloid shirt front and
black bow tie, he counted a dime, a
nickel and five pennies, on the bar.
Red Whitley, with one eye closed
and his face rasped to the color of
his beard, came hurrying forward.
leaving stream of profanity behind
him, and seized his 'scuttle of suds, :"
the same being n glass of beer; and
the four, the solemn line, drank their
parting drinks, leaving Mike Dowd
mystified to the point of whiting a
ring around his mallet handle.
1t was Jerry-the-Limp who led the
way, striding along with an appear
ance of great briskness, which, how
ever. made but little headway, with
Piggy Marshall beside him and Red
Whitley and Tank Tonkey following
They trudged up the Bowery, in the
bhghting shadow of the elevated
tracks, and over to Broadway, and
far up town. a procession with
their eyes popping, and their faces
reddening from the cramping of their
stiff collars, but their destination fixed
inexorably in their minds!
Past the wholesale district, past the
dry goods section, past the hotel
quarter, and up near the theater dis
trict, where at last they turned in,
with the unbreathed ease of them who
have traversed continents, at one of
the old office buildings. Just before
they entered the lobby, Jerry-the-
Limp drew up his cohorts for a final
word of instruction, while a nearby
policeman wondered whether or not
he should trouble himself.
Now, look here you boneheads
listen to me. When you drill into
this dump, hold your heads up and
don't look at the janitor. Just pass
him right by, because if he ever
catches your eye, he'll give you the
run. Follow me, and throw a bluff
you got business where you're goin'.
Do you get me2"
shoot" rumbled Tank Tonkey. his
chin elevated, and a ridge of white
numbness coming in his neck where
1t bound against his collar
Damn soap!" snarled Red Whitley.
rubbing his knuckle in his eve.
Well, when we get where we're
goin'," went on Jerry, stick right
close to me, and don't any of you
butt in unless l give you a stamp on
the hoof. That's all. Nowi"
With this word of command. Cen
eral Jerry-the-Limp led his troops
boldly into the lobby, and passed the
elevator starter in unquestioned safety.
and turned into the open car and
lined up against the back wall in sill
ent stiffness.
"Twelf!" shrilled General Jerry. as
the car shot upward. Tank Tonkey
was holding his huge middle with
anxious care, and Red Whitey's knees
were bent under him. He had NOT
ventured beyond the Bowery in wears
and this was a foreign land. He won
dered If the elevator boy had money.
te'AN "chiu DS 6OOu lOT q TWO RltnaV
touch; but the motion was too swift
for proper work.
"Now!" again said Jerry-the-Limn
as they emerged on the twelfth floor
1t was word of reinsurance as we'll
as command, for Red Whitley was al
ready showing signs of weakening
and seemed unanxious to leave the
elevator. 'e
For only moment General Jerry
paused before the office door of viii
liam Lane, Engineering Architect.
then he boldly opened and entered
and the snubnosed office boy, who still
felt that hereditary instinct for rod
and line and hook and worm. was
astounded to see confronting him the
four most remarkable visitors who had
ever infested that reception room He
was city-bred boy, however. and
he knew exactly what to do He
bristled straight up to the gate of The
low railing, and barred the wav of
the entire four. He came about tn
TANK Tonkey's middle shirt button
What do you want?" he demand
ed
rs Mr.. Doe in?" The voice of
jerry -the-Limp. a wheedling voice a
voice intended to be suave, but which
ended in a whine.
What do you want"
Ped Wbitav tob;.u