Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1920-10-19

and turning to the window, stood star
Ing out over the river.
He was still man without a name.
The Boss stepped back from the
door.
''The Blue Moon" he said. 'Hit
orta be putt away SAFE"
As II the statement recalled
thoughts that had strayed far, the
young man reached In his pocket and
drew forth the pearl, still rolled in the
bit of cloth.
The two days of ripening and the
chafe of the cloth had greatly en-
HANGED its brilliance. Quietly rolling
the pearl up in the cloth again, he left
the cabin and. followed by the Boss,
strobe down the slope through the
trees to the boat, and together they
rowed away toward the village.
The fame of the Pearlhunter had
preceded him. AS he came up from
the wharf into the town, the Mud
Hen, the one saloon of the place. dis
gorged staggering, swearing popu-
lation that gathered round him. The
Boss crew. camped half mile below
Fallen Rock, and the crew of Bull
Masterson, camped three miles above,
were both there. Besides these, the
Obenchain, small steamer plying be-
tween the ports of the Wabash. had
come in that morning, bringing other
river men.
Caught in the swirl of the crowd,
the Pearlhunter and his companion
we're swept into the Mud Hen. A hun
bred voices clamored to have the pearl
laid upon the bar where all could file
by and see 1t. There fell few min
utes of comparative quiet while the
hungry eyes of the river men were de-
vouring 1t. Then followed drinks all
round-at the expense of the finder
and-what followed is not a pleasant
task to describe.
The Pearlhunter, remembering that
mound Of fresh earth at Fallen Rock,
kept his head and drank but little.
The Boss, on the other hand, 'cut tn
dog loose" as the river men say. By
noon he was singing snatches of half
forgotten songs and fighting the In
dian wars all over again. Coming up
to where his young friend leaned
against the bar, in easy reach Of the
pearl, still lying upon its bit of cloth,
he threw an arm about his neck and
leant hard upon him, something he
couldn't have been hired to do when
sober.
"Come ere, you fellers. This'n's on
me, an it's to tn Pearlhunter, tn
whitest man along tn Wabash-an'
be ID t tn man what says e
ANTI"
The rabble swarmed about the bar
all that were able. Bottle necks
gurgled; glasses clinked; red whisky
sizzled down hot throats; a few
shouted; some swore; others merely
laughed foolishly.
That last drink was the Boss fin
ish. He wilted down into the nearest
chair; lurched heavily over upon ia
Dle anu lay lHcIe lluAlDlillS, VI ituSii-
ing in high, shrill key; occasionally
shouting out note or two of a boat
ing song that had been old on the riv-
er for a quarter of a century.
1t was early afternoon before the
Pearlhunter dared to think seriously
of depositing the pearl-before river
etiquette permitted him to remove IL
from the bar. He tried to rally the
Boss. All he got was further In
stallment of the Indian wars.
Half disguised with it all, he turned
back to the bar and stood leaning his
chin upon his hand. A door opened
from another part Of the building
the Mud Hen being an inn, the only
one in the place. A man entered
Crossing the floor with as little atten-
ton to the crowd as If the place had
been deserted, he staggered up to the
bar. Perhaps he secretly wished that
somebody would get in his way. He
had just that air about him.
The Pearlhunter heard the door
| open; felt the hush that fell-the
hush that always falls upon the rab-
BILE at the coming of masterful pres