Indiana daily times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1914-1922, 1921-06-25

had found the tip partly a good one.
There was hospitality in plenty of a
careless, liberal, irregular sort. But the
town itself was q weight upon his spirits
business-like, systematized cities of the
North and East Here he was often flung
dollar, but too frequently a good nat
ured kick would follow it. Once bond
Military Plaza and dragged him across
the black soil until no respectable rag
bag would have stood sponsor for his
clothes. The winding, doubling streets,
leading nowhere, bewildered him. And
then there was little river, crooked as
a pot-hook, that crowded through the
middle Of the town, crossed by a hun
dred little bridges so nearly alike that
they got on Curly's nerves. And the last
bartender wore a number nine shoe
The saloon stood on a corner. The
hour was O'Clock, Homefarers and
outgoers jostled Curley on the narrow
stone sidewalk. Between the building to
his left he looked down a cleft that pro
claimed itself another thoroughfare. The
alley was dark except for one, patch OF
light. Where there was light there were
sure to be human beings. Where there
were human beings after night fall IN
San Antonio there might be food, and
there was sure to be drink. So Curly
headed for the light.
The illumination came from Schwegels
cafe. On the sidewalk in front Of It
Curly picked up an old envelope. It
might have contained check for mil
lion. 1t was empty, but the wanderer
read the address, "Mr. Otto Schwegel,"
and the name Of the town and State. The
postmark was Detroit
Curly entered the saloon. And now
| In the light it could be perceived that
vagabondage. He had none Of the tidi-
ness of the calculating and shrewd FRO
fessional tramp. His wardrobe repre-
scented the CASTOR specimens Of half a
had combined their efforts IN providing
shoes for his feet. AS you gazed at him
there passed through your mind vague
impressions Of mummies, wax figures,
Russian exiles, and men lost on desert
islands. His face was covered almost TO
his eyes with a curly brown beard that
he kept trimmed short with pocket
knife, and that had furnished him with
his nom de route. Light-blue eyes, full
of sullenness, fear, cunning, impudence,
and fawning, witnessed the stress that
had been laid upon his soul.
The saloon was small. and in its at
mosphere the odours Of meat and drink
struggled for the ascendency. The pig
and the cabbage wrestled with hydrogen
and oxygen. Behind the bar Schwegei
laboured with an assistant whose eptder-
NAL pores showed no signs OF being 0O-
structed Hot weinerwurst and sauer-
kraut were being served to purchasers OF
beer. Curly shuffled TO the end Of the
bar, coughed hollowly, and told Schwegel
that he was a Detroit caolnet-maKer out
Of job.
1t followed as the night the day that
he got his schooner and lunch.
Was you acquainted maybe init
Heinrich Strauss In Detroitf" asked
Schwegel.
"Did l know Heinrich Strauss?" re-
peated Curly affectionately. why, say,
30, wish had a dollar for every game
of pinocle me and Heine has played on
Sunday afternoons"
More beer and a second plate of steam
Ing food was set before the diplomat.
And then Curly, knowing. 10 fluid,
drachm how far ''con" game would
go, shuffled out into the unprOmising
street
Aud now he began tc preceive the in
conveniences Of this stony Southern
town. There was none OF the outdoor
gaiety and brilliancy and music that
provided distraction even to the poorest
In the cities of the North. Here, even
so early, the gloomy, peck walled houses
were closed and barred against the
murky dampness of the night The streets
were mere assures through which flowed
grey wreaths Of river mist. AS he
walked he heard laughter and the chink
Of coin and chips behind darkened win
dows, and music coming from every
chink of wood and stone. But the diver
sions were selfish; the day Of popular
pastime had not yet come to San An
tonic.
But at length Curly, as he strnyed
turned the sharp angle Of another lost
street and came upon a rollicking band
Of stockmen from the outlying ranches