The Washington times., 1918-08-04

Ptlktns OelieveS 10 JnlS day tnat he
wormed this information out Of the young
man.
'PIl tell you about It," said Jones at
last. I'm commissioner for Charlie
Powell"
Commissioner" repeated Henry in a
dazed way.
Sure" said Jones' Charlie Powell
you've heard of him-he owns a lot of
horses
"oh!" said Henry Pilkins. The race
track"
"Surest thing you know" said Jones
easily. "Powell's in with everything that
comes OF, and I'm with him. That gives
me the inside. When I'm making his bets,
it's easy to place few dollars of my own.
1t isn't really gambling. because it's a sure
thing I'm about seven thousand to the
good this season already. How's the old
town out there? Used to be a pretty
sporty little village, IL . remember right"
See here" said Pnkins suddenly,
what's the matter with me getting in on
some of this easy money? I've got bank
roll that isn't working"
".
Less than a week later, Mr. Charles
Powell, fresh from his bath, rubbed his
rather puffy eyes and stared at a note
which a bell-boy handed him It vas a
trifie early for visitors. but il was Mr..
PowelPs boast that he never overlooked a
trick.
SHOW him up!" said he.
He listened quietly to the recital
"Humph," said he, at the end Of the bald
narrative. And you fell for that? don't
need to tell you. do /. that ! never heard
of this man Jones in my life? Where are
you from?"
Overcome, Henry C. Pilkins spoke the
truth.
"Ah, hai" said Mr.. Powell, nodding his
head You're one OF those wise small
town guys! They're always trying to get
something for nothing. and they fall for
stun that was old before racehorses we're
in--ented. The best thing you can do. my
boy. is to go back where you came from
You amt fast enough for the company
over here. Good morning."
Stunned. crushed. utterly crestfallen.
Henry c. Pilkins reached the street.
"a small-town guy!" he thought.
At the same time the interesting Jones
was dividing a slender roll of bills with
Simmons. the bell boy. and. oddly enough.
he was saying the same thing.
He was only a fresh hick from the
country-one of them small-town fellows
with short roll thought, from the way
he talked. that he was there with a coupl.
of thousand at least, but he only had a
hundred and twenty bucks"
"A piker!" said Simmons with great
contempt.
Pilkins. kicking viciously at the Autumn
leaves on the sidewalk. was arriving at the
same conclusion. His healthy conceit, sud-
denly stricken. was dying in agonies. He
remembered Circletown. 1t will be re-
called that the prodigal thought of his
fathers house after his money was spent.
Pilkins had just seven dollars and forty
cents in the wide. wide world, and he owed
forty dollars at the hotel. It would not do
to go back there.
sudden resolution sent him down
side street and into a small shop. The
window was filed with musical instru-
ments. revolvers. field glasses and iewelry
all the things which a man sacrifices
when the pinch comes.
How much?" asked Henry. pulling out
his watch.
Eight dollars" said the man. Il
wouldn't give my father a cent more"
The train was nearing Circletown. In
the smoker sat young man with his soft
hat pulled well down over his eyes. The
familiar landscape brought no joy to him,
and he was not smoking, because tobacco
and an empty stomach do not always agree.
The young man remembered that Jennie
Purcell could fry chicken in way to
linger in the memory; and after that he
that he had not done well in
failing to write to the young lady.
After all. there were no friends like the
old friends Jennie would be surprised to
see him. He could imagine the light in her
eyes as he walked through the gate. JeQ,
ME had rather fine eyes, he remembered.
II was almost dinner-time. The young
man felt for his watch. sighed. and allowed
his stomach to tell him that it was close
to Circletown's evening meal-time.
Ten minutes after the train stopped. he
rang the hell at the Purcell home