Cleveland County herald., 1920-01-15

''No. l haven't anything to offer him."
 q suppose not" Kinney returned thoughtfully, as he went on. q don't know that 1 would myself. Well, we'll probably see his name in the papers some day if he stays with that job P
 :. However, the nitro-glyeerin expert of whom they spoke did not get into the papers as a consequence of being blown up, although his daily life was certainly continuous exposure to
 that risk. Destiny has constant pas
 sion for the incongruOus, and it was
 Georges lot to manipulate wholesale
 quantities of terrific and volatile eX- plosives in safety, and to be laid low by an accident so commonplace and in- consequent that it was a comedy. Fate had reserved for him the final in- suit of riding him down under the wheels of one of those juggernauts at which he had once shouted "Git q | hossw Nevertheless, Fate's ironic choice for Georgie's undoing was not l big and swift and momentous car, such | as Eugene manufactured it was a spe- cimen of the hustling little type that was flooding the country, the cheapest, commonest, hardest little car ever made.
 The accident took place upon Sun day morning, on a downtown crossing, with the streets almost empty, and no reason in the world for such thing to happen. He had gone out for his Sunday morning walk, and he was thinking of an automobile at the very moment when the little car struck him; he was thinking of a shiny lan- daulet and a charming figure stepping into it, and of the quick gesture of a white glove toward the chauffeur, mo- tionfng him to go on. George heard a shout, but did not look up for he could not imagine anybody's shouting at him, and he was too engrossed in the ques- ti0n "Was it Lucy?" He could not de- eide, and his lack of decision in this matter probably superinduced a lack of decision in another, more pressingly vital. At the second and louder shout he did lool- up; and the car was almost on him; but he could not make LID his mind if the charming little figure he had seen was Lucy's and he could not make up his mind whether to go back ward or forward; these questions be- came entangled in his mind. Then, still not being able to decide which of two ways to go. he tried to go both and the little car ran him down. It was not moving very rapidly, but it went all the way over George.
 He was conscious of gigantic vio- lence; of roaring and jolting and con- cussion; of choking clouds of dust, shot with lightning, about his head he heard snapping sounds as loud as shots from a small pistol, and was stabbed by excruciating pains in his legs. Then he became aware that the machine was being lifted off of him. People were gathering in a circle round him, gabbling.
 His forehead was bedewed with the sweat of anguish, and he tried to wipe off this dampness, but failed. He could not get his arm that far.
 "Nev' mind," a policeman said; and George could see above his eyes the skirts of the blue coat covered with dust and sunshine. Ambulance here fin a minute. New mind tryin' to move any. You want 'em to send for some special doctor?"
 No" Georges lips formed the word.
 Or to take you to some private hospital?"
 "Tell them to take me-" he said faintly, Ito the City hospital"
 A right"
 A smallish young man in duster fidgeted among the crowd, explaining and protesting and a strident-voiced girl, his companion, supported his ar gument, declaring to everyone her willingness to offer testimony in any court of law that every blessed word | he said was the Gods truth.
 Its the fella that hit you," the po- liceman said, looking down on George. | q guess he's right; you must of ben l thinkin about somep'n' or other. It's | wunnerful the damage them little ma chimes can do-yOu'd never think it but ] guess they ain't much case ag'in this fella that was drivin' it."
 You bet your life they ain't no case on me" the young man in the duster agreed, with great bitterness. He came and stood at Georges feet, addressing him heatedly: "Pm sorry fer you all right, and 1 don't say I ain't. I hold nothin' against you, but it wasn't any more my fault than the statehouse! | Wasn't goin' step over eight miles an hour! I'm perfectly willing to say I'm sorry for you though, and SOS the lady with me. We're both willing to say that much, but that's all, under stand !"
 Georges drawn eyelids twitched; his misted glance rested fleetingly up- on the two protesting motorists, and the old imperious spirit within him flickered up in a single word Lying on his back in the middle of the street, where he was regarded by an increas- ing public as an unpleasant curiosity, ha cnnlya fhic yyord olaa, ,-lu frc1,, n