Cavalier County farmers press. (Langdon, N.D.) 1920-1921, 1921-05-12

came the rattle of a latch-key and
voices in the hall to tell me that the
major and his folks were getting
home. 1 had barely time to pocket
the pistol and to drop into a chair
where l could pretend to be asleep,
when l felt the boss hand on my
shoulder.
"Come, Jimmie" he said. tits time
we We're moving along" and in a min
ute or two, after he had said good
night to the major and Mrs. Kendrick,
we got out.
At the gate we found the taxi driver
doing something to his motor. With
The scare from which I was still shak-
ing to make my legs wobble, I grabbed
at the chance which our good angel
was apparently holding for us.
= Lets ride" l suggested and when
we got into the cab, 1 saw a man
stroll up from the shadow Of the side
walk cottonwOodS and say something
to the driver; something that got him
IN invitation to ride to town on the
front seat with the cabby when the
car was finally cranked and started.
l a a sight of our extra fares face
when he climbed up and put his back
to us, and l knew it was Tarbell. But
Mr.. Norcross didn't.
When we reached the Billiard the
boss went right up to his rooms, but /
had a little investigation to make, and
I stayed in the lobby to put 1t over.
On the open page of the hotel register,
in the group of names written just
after the arrival of our train from
the West at 80, I found the signature
that I was looking for, Howard Col
lingwood, N. Y" Putting this and
that together, l concluded that our
young rounder had come in from the
WestAwhich was a bit puzzling, since
it left the inference that he wasn't
direct from New York.
Waiting for a good chance at the
lions. They were answered promptly
enough. Young Mr.. C%ollingwood had
come in on the 7:30. But he had been
In Portal City a week earlier. too,
stopping owe for a single day. Yes,
he was alone, now, but he hadn't been
on the other occasion. There was a
mar with him on the earlier stop
over n he, also, registered from
New York. The clerk didn't remem-
Der the other mans name, but he
Obligingly looked 1t up for me IN the
older register. 1t was Bullock, Henry
Bullock.
suppose it was up to me to go to
bei. 1t was late enough, in all con-
science. and nobody knew better than
I dld the early-rising, early-ofice-
cross, G. M. Just the same, after l
had marked that Mr.. Collingwood's
room-key was still in its box, I went
over to a corner of the lobby and sat
down, determined to keep my eyes
open, if such a thing were humanity
possible, until our rounder should
show up.
Finally my patience, or whatever
you care to call it, vas rewarded.
Just after the baggage porter had fin
ished si%ng-songing his call for the
night express westbound, my man came
in Oh the run.
When he rushed over to the counter
and began to talk fast to the night
clerk, | wasn't very far behind him.
He was telling the clerk to get his
grips down from the room, ad~jectively
quick. While the boy was gone for
the grips, my man made a straight
shoot for the bar, and when I next
got a sight of him-from behind one
of the big onyx-plated pillars of the
bar-room colonnade-he was pouring
neat liquor down his throat as if it
were water and he on fire inside.
That was about all there was to it.
By the time C%ollingwood got back to
the clerks counter, the boy was down
with the bags. Colllngwood looked up
sort of nervously at the big clock, and
paid his bill. And while the clerk
was getting his change, he grabbed
the pen out Of the counter inkstand,
and made out as if he was shading in
a picture, or something, on the open
register.
A half-minute later he was gone.
When the taxi purred away 1 turned
to the open register to see what our
maniac had been drawing in it. What
he had done vas completely to. OBJ
literate his signature. He had scratched
1t over until the past master of all
the handwriting experts that ever
lived couldn't have told what the name
was.
1t was while we We're eating break
fast the next morning in the Billiard
cafe-the boss and-1-that we got our
first new Of the Petrolite wreck. The
story was r~ed-headlined in the Morn
ing Herald-the Hatch-owned paper
and besides being played up good and
strong in the news columns, there was
an editorial to back the front-page
scream.
AT two o'clock in the morning a
fast %westbound freight had left the
track in Petrolite Canyon, and before
they could get the flagman out, a de-
layed L%eaStbOund passenger had col