The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1917-12-27

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citement of different kinds. were al
most simultaneously from within
| the stable and the third from q point
In the alley about eleven inches lower
than the orifice just constructed in
the planking of the door. This third
point, roughly speaking, was the open
mouth of gayly dressed young color
ed man whose attention, as he strolled,
had been thus violently distracted from
some mental computations he was
making IN numbers, including, particu-
larly, those symbols of ecstasy or woe.
as the case might be, seven and eleven.
His eye at once perceived the orifice
on a line enervatingly little above the
top of his head; and, although he had
not supposed himself so well known in
this neighborhood, he was aware that
he did, here and there, possess ac-
| quaintances of whom some such I'M
complimentary action might be expect
ed as natural and characteristic. His
immediate procedure was to PROSTATE
himself flat upon the ground. against
the stable doors.
In so doing, his shoulders came
brusquely in contact with one Of them,
which happened to be unfastened, and
it swung open, revealing to his gaze
two stark-white white boys, one of
them holding an enormous pistol and
both staring at him in Stupor of ulti-
mate horror. For. to the CLASSY eyes
of Penrod and Sam, the stratagem of
the young cOlored man, thus dropping
to earth, disclosed, with awful certain
ty, slaughtered body
This dreadful thing raised itself up
on its elbows and looked at them, and
there followed a mOtionless moment
tableau of brief duration, for both
| boys turned and would have fled,
shrieking, but the body spoke:
"'At's nice business!" it said re-
proachfully. mice business! Tryfn'
blow a mans head off"
Penrod was unable to speak, but
Sam managed to summon the tremu-
lOus semblance of voice.
"Where-where did it hit your" he
gasped
"Nemmine anything bout where it
hit me-" the young colored man return
| ed, busting mis- breast and knees as he
rose. II want to know what kline o.
white boys you think you is-man
can't walk long street 'thout you blow
in his head Off" He entered the sta
BILE and, with an indignation surely
| justified, took the pistol from the limp,
cold hand of Penrod. "Whose gun you
playin' with? Where you git at gum"
"It's ours" quavered Sam. ut be-
longs to u.s."
"Then you pa ought to be rested"
said the young colored man. 'Lettin'
boys play with gun!" He examined
the revolver with an interest in which
there began to appear symptoms of a
pleasurable appreciation. my goo-
ness! Gun like 'iss blow a team O.
steers thew brick house! Look at at
gun!" With his right hand he twirled
it in a manner most dexterous and sur
prising; then suddenly he became Sc
we're. "You white boy, listen mel" he
said. EFF went an did what l ought
to did, I'd march straight out 'iss sta.
BILE, git a policeman, an tell him rest
you an take you off to jail. ATS what
you need-blowin' mans head OFF !!
Listen me: I'm goin' take 'iss gun an
th'ow her away where you can't do nc
mo- harm with her. I'm goin' take her
way off in the woods an th'ow her
away where can't nobody fine her an
go blowin' mans head off with her,
ATS what I'm goin' dol" And placing
the revolver inside his coat as incon
spicuously as possible, he proceeded to
the open door and into the alley, where
he turned for final word. ~ let you
| off 'iss one time," he said, "but listen
me-you listen, white boy: 20 bet not
tell YOU pa. I ain goin' tell him, an
you ain goin' tell him. He want know
where gun gone, you tell him you los
her."
He disappeared rapidly.
Sam williams, swallowing cOntinu'
Ously, presently walked to the alley
door, and remarked in a weak voice,
''I'm sick at my stummick." He paused
then added more decidedly: "I'm goin'
home. I guess I've stood about enough
| around here for one day." And be-
slowing O last glance upon his friend
who was now sitting dumbly upon the
floor in the exact spot where he had
stood to fire the dreadful shot, Sam
moved slowly away.
The early shades Of autumn evening
were falling when Penrod emerged
from the stable; and better light
might have disclosed to shrewd eye
some indications that here was boy
who had been extremely, if temporar-
lily, i'll. He went to the cistern, and,
after a cautious glance round the re-
assuring horizon, lifted the iron cover.
Then he took from the inner pocket OF
his jacket an object which ne dropped
listlessly into the water: 1t was a bit
of wood, whitfield to the likeness OF
pistol. And though his lips moved not,
nor any sound issued from his vocal
organs, yet were words formed. They
were so deep in the person Of Penrod
they came almost from the slowly con-
valescing profundities of his stomach.
These words concerned firearms, and
they were:
"Wish I'd never seen one! Never
want to see one again!
OF course Penrod had no way OF
knowing that, as regards bingism in
general, several Of the most distin-
guished old gentlemen In Europe were
at that very moment in exactly the