Grand Forks herald. [volume] (Grand Forks, N.D.) 1916-1955, 1919-05-29
MORNING EDITION

Dranch through h slot-ltke, hfgh-set
window? Or had Il, crawled down. the
corridor q under the door? After
az, that hardly mattered;aybut what
did 1t now intend by \ of ascam-
patgnS? Would 1T leave him In peace,
or would 1t remain to run across his
shrinking flesh after nightfa1f?s He
could not know. and he did like
to imagine. He sighed wearily and
returned to his stool and his medita-
ton. But the door to his mental re-
treat was closed; crashed shut, as 1t
We're, by the, shock of his encounter
with the tarantula. ~ d
Bruce sighed heavily. What was
70 be done now? He could neither
dream awake Q asleep. Think, he
did not dare. He was too ant to re-
member that he had spent one year
was fifteen. $500
By and by the rain ceased, with
the ab%ruptness OF a faucet turned off.
An hour later, a thin voice broke the
s1lence-the sharp, piping voice OF q
very old ma
What are you saying. friend?"
/. Il did not speak," denied Bruce,
hoarsely.
He did not move or look up to the
door Of rough wooden bars beyond
which the speaker stood. He knew It
was Tthe. Little Bald one" a prison.
er sometimes privileged to wander
about the place from which he had
not the strength to escape. 4.
The old half-breed peered in be-
tween the bars. -
ut is bad today? p" he questioned.
yes" =. ~
Shall I talk to the senhor?" -.
IF you like" said. Bruce. He
stammered slightly in his speech, not
because he knew the language i'm
perfectly, but as a falling he had
never been able to overcome in mo.
merits of agitation.
The old man nodded. and squatted
rier. Made %garrulous by age and
monotony of life. he loved to recite
long, aimless tales of his active days.
And the American had found a relief,
sometimes, in listening to the COM
fused, endless variations that man
aged to retain a certain vividness and
movement. Sometimes, as now, he
the enjoyment of a fancied listener,
too good-natured- and too sad him.
self to check another's pleasure.
Good" grunted the old man. ITO
day I will tell of a scene of yesterday:
Of when I followed the Caudillo. Dom
David Noel. Yes, I was a cook in his
camp, eight years ago." 80
! liz. lduiCLIeO lHLO n long wandering
story; an account of a military ex-
petition against a group of cattle.
raiders n bandits.
At first Bruce heard little. He had
caught the rapid stamp of hoofs upon
the road through the village without
A party of riders was passing. He
could imagine their sinuous bodies
swinging to the horses stride, their
brown faces turned to the clean sky.
and the lift of their sleek black hair
to the wind. Once such a call from
without had stirred him to frantic re-
bellion against captivity. Months
ago. he had learned to listen apatheti-
cally. But today he was stirred to
bitter envy. If he might only havA
one more such ride! If he might
even hope to be transferred to- anoth-
err prison! But his trial was over. his
sentence passed. nothing stretched
before him except m%onotony. If he
had been in some countries: say, in
Central America. he might have
hoped for a revolution, but Brazil lay
basking in peace. To fend off des-
peration. Bruce began to fasten his
attention on the old mans speech.
And gradually attention ceased to be
an effort. His interest was shared.
Continued in tomorrow's ,
Evening Herald.