The citizen-Republican. (Scotland, Bon Homme County, S.D.) 1???-19??, 1917-01-11
PROLOGUE.

and was on his way to the sleeping
quarters, paused and turned his
purplish face toward h door that had
been shaken by the blow. Keener witted
than most of the derelicts who drifted
into this house of refuge, he wondered
whether the place could furnish him
amusement. Also, he was making a
mental bet that there could come in
nobody more wretched looking than he.
After a short, dead silence outside,
there followed the sound of hard. flesh
and rough finger nails scraping and
clawing on the woodwork. The door
swung In very slowly, and that which
had sounded lik a sack of meal stood
Wavering in the opening, like a. spectre,
his right shoulder against the door
Jamb. his left land still on the knob.
He trembled yisibly, and, without re-
moving his shoulder from the wood
against which he leaned, passed his
right hand wearily across his forehead,
the long, pale fingers moving loosely
against his coal black, tangled hair. He
wore no hat. His beard, a week old,
completed the dark, circular frame for
his dead white face, made all the
ghastlier by the big, fever lit eyes.
The eyes We're terrific. They had in
-hem the flame of terror. 1t was as if
the fierceness of it lighted up all the
badges of misery hat he wore. His
collar was gone, showing the neckband
OF his shirt fastened with a bone collar
button. The rusty coat huns open,
posing a tear in his shirt just over his
heart, and from the right cuff Of his
coat sleeve, as he moved his hand with
that peculiar, crawling motion, dangled
O long piece Of cloth. His trousers,
baggy and shapeless, tapped slightly
as his knees knocked together. His
Glothes, too big for him. made him look
like a draped skeleton. His torn shoes
spread out as if they had been filled
with mush.
The terror that was in his eyes was
also in his heart. 1t was more APP
parent, more real, than any terror that
mad ever faced Simpson the bum, or
old Sullivan. 1t was something super
Misunderstanding ghostly.
Simpson shivered.
Sullivan, who had let his paper slide
noisily to the floor, got to his feet
"Hello!' he said, trying to make the
Word a mere greeting. In reality it was
a command to the stranger to speak. to
Danish the spectral impression.
Inc trembling man sprang into the
room with the agility of a cat, slammed
the door shut, and fell hard with his
b~ack~against it. He looked like one
who has u a great distance and
makes n last effort to escape pursuit.
His burning eyes glanced at Simnson
and then at the few articles in the
barely furnished room. but they took no
knowledge of what they saw. The
flame of them, brilliant and steady.
went toward Sullivan.
What a we do for you?" the old
man asked ~bruSquely, disliking the bril-
liant eyes.
The stranger, a grotesque flattened
against the door, licked his lips twice
and tried to speak. When he did so. II
was in a rafting whisper, and he moved
ms neck curiously as if his throat hurt
him. u
Help me-" he said, and there was in
the whisper something that und
u~npleaSantly like a whine.
All right" Sullivan, having pulled
himself together, assured him. Come
over here
The visitor trembled as if invisible
irresistible hands had hold of him. and
again his burning eyes surveyed the
room blindly. He came away from the
door with an infinity of caution. his
breath audible in his nostrils. He came
slowly, his knees half giving way be-
meath him. AS he walked, half Of the
sole OF his right shoe fell away from
HIS arms hung loose at his sides.
Will you"-he said, whisnerinp
When he almost had reached the desk
will you help-help me?"
Although the whine Of appeal was
stun In the whisper, there was, back Of
AhS WHICH Ounded like a
new definition Of despair. 1t ]nnounce
ina he had no hope Of finding help.
"Sure!" Sullivan answered him
breezily. Aii'
The stranger lurched against the desk
and fell forward, the hardness of his
pony elbows making a knocking noise.
With his head bowed, his nose mashed
against h hard wood, he flung up his
right arm, his hand shaking, the fingers
moving through the air with the slow
Gravity motion, and screamed aloud
one prolonged note.
I'm afraid of it,"
He lifted his head so that it was
flung far. back on his shoulders. and
stared at Sullivan.
I've run through the streets" he
said in a whisper, through the streets
and through the fields-1,o 900 miles!
And It was always-always behind me.
1t held On 10 ny shoulder"
He clapped his left hand to his right
shoulder, hesitated a moment. and
grlnned sheepishly, trying to v I'm
ms failure to capture that which
threatened him.
Nearly got it then!" he declared.
n whisper. more than the burning
eyes. made Sullivan all sympathy. He
held forward a pen and spun the reg
lister around.
Can you sign your manner" he in
CURED kindly.
The stranger took the pen and pushed
the torn piece Of coat sleeve outeof the
way, preparatory to writing. He paused.
the pen webbing in his hand, while a
new and grayer horror spread over his
race. Then, with the new ugliness up-
on him, he began to laugh In q silly.
scarcely audible. fashion.
My name?" he giggled. Somebody's
stolen it," Their slowly. the words
coming one by one through his vacu-
Gus laughter: I-don't-know-my-
! am" ~"
al right" Sullivan said lightly, TAX
ing the pen from the others palsied
fingers. I'll sign for you" He wrote
It down n spoke it: John Smith
There you are. That all right?"
John Smith laughed ~vacantly and be-
gan to look around the room furtively.
The tramp Simpson. who had been
watching him with absorbed interest,
thought that avery bit OF the msn,