New-York tribune., 1921-02-27
By FRANK CONDoN

SVERY so often somebody asks
me how long Harmony Childs.
~ Omar Gill and l have been
eeagled up together, and whenever
that query arises it makes me think
again of dear cid Joseph City. It
was in that quaint little one-horse
town that we two first laid unsus-
peGc.ng eyes upon the form and per-
son Of Harmony Childs.
1t happened so many years ago
that prefer not to go into the vital
statistics. We were all very much
younger than we are now, although
not a bit poorer, showing you that
a life of lively and indiscriminate
crime is more or less a mistake if
a man aims to die rich. Joseph City
was, and still remains, one of those
slab-sided Western towns, with two
trains daily, three thousand in
mates, and a scandal in the choir Of
the Second Baptist Church.
I REMEMBER that Omar Gill
and I were comparatively new
friends at the time, bound together
by ties of poverty and a couple of
rowing dispositions, and we de-
barked one sultry afternoon in
Joseph City from the extreme rear
end of what the English jocularly
call goods train. We departed
rom our particular goods train
about four inpulsive leaps ahead of
an irate brakeman armed with a
coupling pin and betraying brisk
familiarity with it's use.
Thereupon we discovered that we
had landed in the midst of Joseph
City, and after investigation we took
p small bungalow in the outskirts.
1t was not difficult to take this mod
est home, because no one else
seemed to be using it at the time.
We moved IN quietly through rear
window and prepared to enjoy what
calm the future might hold.
Omar Immediately began to dis
play unsupported gifts with refer
ence to groceries, fancy provisions
and all forms of edible human food.
At dusk he would saunter forth into
Joseph City, armed with nothing but
4 pleasant manner, and return later
to our bungalow, very red and
breathless, but with his arms full of
canned corn, dried beef, Irish pota-
toes and miscellaneous sundries.
For week everything was lovely,
and then we met Eli Purman. I
shall never forget Eli, and neither
will Omar. He was a red-faced
man, with a rolling countenance, the
chin of which formed the letter ON"
as written out by schoolgirls strug-
Cling with the round-hand system,
and he owned and operated the
Joseph City Hotel.
In an unguarded moment Eli
waXed frienlly and invited us to
walk into his sanitary bar and have
at least one. From that moment the
hotel was our club.
In those fortuitous days it was
Omar's totally unfounded but in
curable conviction that he could
sing tenor. There is no hallucina-
ton in the human breast harder to
eradicate than the firm belief that
one can sing tenor, and for years
Omar Gill had freely used up good
American atmosphere in attempting
to prove out his theory.
Of an evening at the hotel, sur
rounded by a cheerful group, he
often raised his voice in song, and
the customers applauded and bought
for both of us. There is no audi
"nce, OIL course. less Cap0ouS or
more warmly enthusiastic than a
small group Of adult males standing
along the moist side of bar and
listening to fellow biped in the
actaof song.
Among our admirers none was
more outspoken than Eli Purman.
He actually believed tha5 Omar
could sing and that l was h racon-
teur with great future. When we
arrived one evening earlier than
usual Eli greeted us somewhat ex-
citedly.
ssT'HERE'S a man looking for
v,aS. Fx..o-9s L. auua,,.oz y