The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1920-01-09

s'Yes, ], think he u.s." said Eugene.
emo. haven't anything to offer him. =
II suppose NOT" Kinney returned
th0ughtfully, as he went on. II don't
know that would myself. Well, Wen
probably see his name in the papers
some day If he stays with that job!"
However, the nitro-glycerin
expert Of whom they spoke did not get
into the papers as 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 1t 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 comedy.
Fate had reserved for him the final in
suit Of riding him, down under Sthe
wheels Of one Of those juggernauts at
which he had once shouted "Git a
hossl" Nevertheless. Fate's ironic
choice for Georges undoing was not a
big and swift and momentous car, such
as Eugene manufactured; it was 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 Sum
day morning, on 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 shiny Ian
daulet and a charming figure stepping
into it, and Of the quick gesture of
white glove toward the chauffeur, mo-
tioning him, to go on. George heard q
shout, but did not look up, for he could
not imagine anybody's shouting at him,
and he was too engrossed in the ques-
ton "Whs it Lucy?" He could not de-
eide, and his lack of decision in this
mattes probably superinduced lack
of decision in another, more pressingly
VITAL At the second and louder shout
he did look up; and the car was almost
on him; but he could not make up 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 joltlng and con-
cussion; Of choking clouds Of dust,
shot with lightning, about his head |;
he heard swapping sounds as loud as
shots from 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, Cabling.
His forehead was believed 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" policeman said; and
George could see above his eyes the
skirts of the blue coat, covered with
dust and sunshine. Ambulance here in
minute. New mind tryin' to move
any. You want 'em to send for some
special doctorY
NO" Georges lips formed the word.
"Or to take you to some private
hospital?"
"Tell them to take me-" he said
family, "to the City hospital"
ga 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.
sits the fella that hit you," the po-
liceman said, looking down on George.
Il guess he's right; you must Of ben
thinkin' about somep'n' or other. It's
wunnerful the damage them little ma
chimes can do-y0u'd never think it
but guess they amt much case ag'in
this fella that was drivin' it."
"You bet your life they amt no case
on mel" the young man in the buster
agreed, with great bitterness. He came
and stood at Georges feet, addressing
him heatedly: SIM sorry f.. you all
right, and I don't say I ANT. I hold
nothin' against you. but it wasn't any
more my fault than the statehouse
Wasn't goin' a 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
dickered up in single word. Lying
on his back in the middle of the streer,
where he was regarded by an increas-
ing public as an unpleasant curiosity,
| ne smoke fhiS word clearly from q