Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1925-05-21
Sr1appy Town to
Live In
20 By Doubleday. PAGE & Coz
BY RALPH D. PAINE

oAOoAA OoFC DC1A pacing SpA -SHCPt
quarterback or riding the open spaces
among red-blooded men. He said so
himself, as often as anybody would lis
ten. If customers edged away from his
word pictures there was always the
pretty cashier with the bobbed hair and
the smile that beat any closeup ever
dashed on screen Johnny told her
this TO her face. Instead. of rebuking
him as a fresh ginE, Miss Edna made
him dizzy with another of those mil
lion-doIlar smiles
Not that | want 20 run wild or pun
any freak stuff, Edna, for En- too
sensible for that. But l simply nave
gotta express myself somehow. I ana
terribly ambitious That's what ais
me- And ambition Is bound to make a
fellow restless. My gosh Nothing ever
happens In this soggy dump Of a town,
and nothing ever Will"
adventure? Is that the big idea.
Sohnny?'t
you said it. Edna More to it than
that, though. It's up to me to make a
stake somehow What chance have
got here? You tell me-" "
Miss Edna ceased checking up a pile
of monthly statements and gazed at
the young adventurer with fond amuse-
ment. Then she powdered her pert
nose and inquired.
why the stake? You can take ma
out and buy me one for supper, if you
like. What's the hurry to get rich?
You have good job for kid"
$50 can marry you, Edna. Haven't
told you that fifty times2"
Il am not fortune hunter, Johnny,
dear. You better hustle and earn a raise
Of salary. Heavens but you are
handsome boy when you look at me
IKE that. Now run away, or I'll do
something RASH"
Listen If l had stake of five thou
sand dollars would you marry meY'
persisted the impassioned sutton.
mo, for I'd drop dead in my tracks
before you could be widower. For
the love of Mike, shoot / am a poor
working girl
AS a brutal anti-climax the boss
bawled from an alcove: "Drat you, :
Johnny. What in time do | pay you
for? You come get this sprayer and
load it with bug poison. Then you trot
around to Doctor Merritt's house with
it and show him how to spray his per-
later patch. He phoned that the mix
ture was no good and had the nerve
to tell me his bugs got fat on it."
"The old dumb-bell don't know how
to- use sprayer," said johnny Beal.
Il watched him putterin' in his back
yard. All right, I'll show him how"
Expertly, Johnny measured a proper
dose of the prepared poison and
dumped it into the two-gallon gal
vanized spraying tank. Then it oc-
Cured to him to make it sure death and
so avoid more trouble with the I'M
pleasant Mr.. Merritt. So he ADDED at
random, some arsenate of lead, a dash
of blue vitriol and rich seasoning Of
paris green.
"That ought to put a crimp in EN-
said he, as he poured The sprayer two
thirds full of water and vigorously
shook it. He slung it over his shoulder
by the strap and moved briskly Gut of
the store. AS he walked along he piled
the plunger to build up air pressure in
the cylinder and get ready for action.
In front Of the bank he paused to
look at a shade tree whose leaves were
badly eaten by caterpillars The fuzzy
pests We're crawling along the twigs,
SO many of them that Johnny unlim-
bered the sprayer for a practice shot.
He might as we'll make sure that the
machine was ready for business.
The caterpillars appeared so dis
gusted that he gave them another vol
ley. The breeze carried the fine spray
against the side of closed car stand
ing at the curb. The courteous Johnny
fastened to wipe off the white spots
with his handkerchief The man be-
hind the wheel swore and told him to
go chase himself. Johnny resented his
rudeness and advised him to seek a
torrid climate.
Just then pistol shot was heard in
the bank, then another. Out from the
entrance, taking the stone steps in .
leap, came burly figure of a man, a
small satchel in one hand, a pistol in !
the other. He charged straight for the |
closed car at the curb 4
Johnny Beal stood petrified, his
mouth open, too scared to bulge from |
the path of the outlaw. The pistol |
was jerked up to fire and clear the |
way, but Johnny was quicker. lie did /
not mean to be- One finger happened /
to be ON the nozzle valve of the spray
er. That finger frightened conyulsively.
The nozzle was pointing straight
ahead with plenty Of air pressure. be
hind it.
The fleeing bank robber caught it
full in the faee-prepared poison,
arsenate of lead dash of blue vitriol
and a rich seasoning of paris green.
Blinded, he swerved with his hands to
his face and crashed into the maple
tree. Failing to the pavement he
groaned that he was. dying, just before :
Johnny Beal banged him over the head
1ui+h tha loo dad snraypr