Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-06-16

hand, preparatory to hnglng II INTO tne NolSn
Carolina landscape.
voice came to his ears, q voice that was
as welcome as the greeting Of hangman.
'FIeyg Porterl" said the voice.
Epic knew who 1t was, even before ne turned.
Nobody but Mr.. Warren could speak III Such
deadly voice.
with knees trembling and heart pounding,
EDic Peters turned to face his doom. MI.
warren was standing In the doorway, gazing
first ut Epic and then at the gun. Mr.. Peters
lips moved.
He bowed his head and waited for the on
slaught-wondering whether 1t would take the
form of o verbal assault or physical battery.
There raced through his head an the tales OF
Mr. Warren's compromising badness. Epic re-
called that he was at least member IN good
standing OF the Overtime River Burying Society
And then Mr.. Warren spoke again, and Epic
realized that the white gentlemans voice was
fun Of gladness.
"where In the world did you find my re-
volver?" inquired MIR. Warren.
CLowLY an idea sifted into Epics brain.
The word find" gave him . wild hope.
He tried to look innocent as he struggled to
adjust himself to this new development.
"Y-y-y-y-yo' revolver" he gasped.
eyes. Some one took 1t from my section
last night, and the conductor has been looking
everywhere for it. Where did you find it?"
Epic was thinking with amazing speed.
Cola, major-I never knowed this was yos
gun. I found it up yonder in them toweI4
rack"
MIR. Warren extended his hand. "Tn mighty
glad to get 1t back It's my favorite gum
"Y-y-yas, sub. reckon it would be-"
Mr.. Warren was actually beaming.
Reckon you've earned reward for finding
this" he smiled. How would IS suit your"
Then occurred the ultimate miracle. Mr.,
tracted therefrom an oblong leather wallet,
Under Epic's popping eyes he tipped it open
and selected from among wad Of bills new,
crinkly hve-spot.
Weakly and gratefully Epic accepted it.
"Is--it that wallick which was lost?" he
inquired
ooh, yes" smiled Mr. Warren. "But 1t
wasn't lost long. told the conductor about
it this morning. and he had it. Seems as how
1t was found in the corridor yonder."
Gosh ;" murmured Epic.
"cueer thing, too" went on Mr.. Warren,
converSationally. whoever took the revolver
evidently was hunting for the wallet, and then
dropped the thing in the corridor. About $400
In 1t. I'll bet that fellow felt funny when he
discovered that the holster had nothing in 1t
but the gun .
''Y-y-yas suh," agreed Epic, fervently: st
know he felt funny"
A warm glow suffused Mr.. Peters. He fin-
gered the crisp, new hve-dolar bill that reps
resented Nquidated damages for his period OF
misery. A tremendous load had been lifted
from his shoulders. The sun was shining again.
He wanted to tell some one. The sudden
break In luck was too good to keep to himself.
He felt that he must share his happiness with
q friend.
And SO, when the train stopped at Charlotte,
Epic rushed to the telegraph Office. There.
with much thought, he created and dispatched
q telegram. It was, in truth rather cryptic,
but it satisfied Epic's craving to share the news
OF his good fortune with some one else. It was
q wire written from the heart-a composition
that was, TO Epic's way Of thinking, complete
and comprehensive:
"FTORIAN SLAPPEY
CARE BUD PEAGLER'S LUNCHROOM
BIRMINGHAM ALABAMA
ARRIVED CHARLOTTE SAFE WILL EX-
PLAIN LATER EPIC"
(Copyright, 1922