Montgomery County sentinel., 1926-04-09
HE WAS
TH LOST
DOG
By ARTHUR T. QUESTION:
(@ by Short story Pub. Coz

YHUNG idly over the tramp freight
er's rail ON the side toward Puerto
Il Barrios, and stared at the forsaken
little town-a wretched cluster of
thatched huts, for the most part, un'
der a few stunted palms. The cap
tAiA had gone ashore to settle up his
business with the officers Of the Guate-
mala Transportation company; the
crew had scattered in the town, all
but the man on deck-watch, who was
busily whiting boat out of chip
Of mahogany. l, the passenger, the
one avowed pleasure seeker on the
Chlncora, alone was bored to extlnc-
tion.
Through the hot, lazy, moist sum
mer sunshine, a man came sauntering
toward me down the long pier-a
''dead-beat" by every token-also, to
my trained medical eye a "rummy"
past all common hope Of redemption.
His face was SO swollen, so battered
his eyes so bleared under the still
fine forehead and fair hair-hls COM
plexion so pimpled and revolving that
II took all my experience Of odds and
ends Of humanity to know him for a
young man, with year or two to the
good before his thirties. He slouched
as near me as the pier allowed, and
Rccosted me huskily:
For the love of Heaven, man, give
me cigarette I must have 1t |"
For all his degradation, his voice
wholly lacked the professional whine.
had a feeling that this was almost,
II not actually, the first time he had
begged. He stood facing me with hor-
rlbly appealing eyes.
"See here" 1 temporized, "eyen II
weren't a doctor, I'd have the sense
to see that in the state you're in. and
on such a day, It wouldn't take many
cigarettes to put you beyond the power
to ask for one. Come aboard and let's
have look at you"
He came shuf1iing over the gang
plank, hang-dog and hopeless in every
inch; but still with that element Of
unfamlliarlty with the situation that
made me willing to do my best for
him, to try, at the least, to ward off
the craving until the safer, cooler
nighttime. Suddenly he spoke up:
"If you're no good for a cigarette,
have you pianoT
Under the carelessness of his tone.
l caught hint Of urgency.
Sure" I answered, ian old rattle.
trap the captain says he took at Bel
ize, two or three trips ago, for bad
debt"
"Itll do" he insisted. Let me at
itp
SO | led him down out Of the glare
into the dark, stuffy cabin. He didn't
wait to sit down at the instrument
just laid his hands on It as he stood
and began to strike chords. pushed
the stool up behind him, and he hauled
1t into place with his foot, running his
fingers over the keys all the time Nfor
dear llfe-then sat down and really
started In. l am no musician, but I've
heard most Of the good music going
and well played at that-and never
heard better playing than there In the
gloomy, old cabin of the ChincOra-
airs from all the operas I'd ever heard,
Chopin, Beethoven, queer, out-Of-the-
way fantasies I'd never run across be
fore, or since, for that matter-and
clear out OF the chaos again and again,
blending into the rest and rising su.
preme out Of them, the clean, pure
strength Of the pilgrim Chorus,
Heavens the soul the man threw into
that thing And the old, tuneless pi-
anO, with note gone here and there,
just sang It for him like another soul
answering his.
"once more with JOY, oh. my dear
home, I greet thee"
Over and over again from the sad
dest medleys Of wang" and Handel's
Largo" and coon songs he came back
to 1t.
At the end Of some three hours his
hands dropped suddenly from the key
board
"Pm tired" he said. "YOu don't sail
till the tide turns. Haven't you a cor
ner where I could turn in and rest?"
AS 1t happened, a spare bunk in my
own stateroOm was empty, and ! took
him there, rags, dirt and all, and told
him to sleep 1t off. After couple Of
hours / went to rouse him. II was
getting on to sailing time, and I want
ed a word with him before we left.
As he lay there asleep the boy in
him looked out through the mess he