Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1918-06-23
AWAY FROM HERE


E1HE weather was so hot that the
asphalt Of Riverside drive
gave forth a bftuminous odor.
g and as Grandma Bunker
crossed the celebrated drive to find
:, cool seat facing the river her feet
seemed to sink into the asphalt. 1t
vas awful weather for the poor peo-
de cooped up in the tenements. The
farious newspapers supporting vari-
Gus 'ice funds" did not let the we'll
o-do forget this; there were a great
many photographs Of the heat-strick-
poor published about that time.
Dear old Grandma Bunker loved these
lectures. They made her weep; they
ouched her heart.
She crossed the drive, found a seat,
ook out her knitting and. looking up,
discovered that the man in the seat
beside her was no other than Mr..
rrebbs.
We'll. 7 declared" abe exclaimed.
IF it Amt MIR. Trebbs: amt it awful
not? When think Of them poor
:olks In the tenements. just feel SO
bad could cry"
Eyes, rnasam." said Mr.. Trebbs, clos
ing the book he was reading, but leay-
ing his finger between the pages as q
mark.
Mr.. Trebbs was a f1ne-looking man.
Always neatly dressed. he had the in
eellectual face OF a clergyman and the
beautiful gray hair Of an elderly man.
He was a newcomer at Mrs. Winners
boarding house. but Mrs. Bunker had
AIKEN to him at once. The only thing
-ty of one eye; at the outer corner of
he left eye the skin just above the
upper lid was drawn down as If it had
been cut loose and sewed tight again
100 far down. This was the fact. It
gave that eye queer, almost sinister
explained to Mrs. Bunker that this
rad happened when he was a mis-
sionary to the Fiji Islands. A spear
brown by native had clipped him
iust above the eye, he exclaimed, and
he crude native surgery had left this
mark.
AS a matter Of fact, Droop-Eye
McGosh-for SO he had been known in
he old days-had received the cut by
'e1ng hit over the eye with a heavy
)eer-mug in barroom mix-up during
which he shot Mike McGinnis. Not
moving whether Mike would live or
lie, Droop-Eye had gone into temper.
ry hiding, and his good friend and
Ial Red Finnerty had sewed up the
we as best he could.
When I think of them poor people
own In the tenements." said dear old
irandma Bunker, beginning to knit,
I wisht I had a whole mountain Of
re to give to them"
Mr.. Trebbs drew a deep breath and
Tipped the book into his pocket.
I've GOT he began, and then he
.opped. I've got the same feeling,
ia'am," he said. If 1 wasn't a poor
He did not say what he would have
one ii he had not been a poor man.
glanced at Grandma Bunker, and,
icing she was intent on her knitting,
opened the book again and read
lently.
The book, which had been at first a
appointment, had suddenly become
iteresting to Mr.. Trebbs. From time
time he raised his eyes from the
iges and let them rest thoughtfully
the river or the New Jersey shore.
ow and then smile twitched the
'rners of his mouth.
For twenty years Mr.. Trebbs had
en- a retired" gentleman, doing no
IN a rather famous character in the
orld of semi-criminals. He was now
xty years old, but even at forty he
I'D known he was through" For
fteen years, between the ages of
twenty-five and forty. Droop- Eye Nc
osh had been very fair bunco-man.
had never been anything remark
,le
Such fame as Droop-Eye McGosh
lined was as money-saver He was
ne stingiest bunco-man in America;
hen he got dollar ne hung onto
cents Of it forever, with the re-
1t that his other nickname was
;tingy joe" Fully twenty years be-
re he seated himself on the bench
cling the Hudson river this hot
Immer day, Droop-Eye had given up
20 bunco business in disgust. He re-
red not because he wanted to, but
ecause he was such O poor hand
the business that it did not pay.
Some idea of how softened and
me Mr.. Trebbs ESQ to call him, since
lat was the name he had been wear
ig for twenty years. had become
ay be had from the fact that he
ally enjoyed living in middle-class
Jarding houses and that his favorite
essert was stewed prunes.
tt book Mr.. Trebbs was reading
as library book. and one Of Stock
ms, and the story he had been read
ig whan Mrs. Bunker interrupted
i'm was my Terminal Moraine."
ow he turned to Mrs. Bunker again.
What you said just now about q
fountain of ice. Mrs Bunker" he
lid. made me smile. Maybe you no.