White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1931-10-29


hall, see? And was standing in tn,
middle of the floor, working, and hat
the gun right in my hand. Anybod.
could see. / wasn't carrying no con
cealed weapon"
The jury filed back. Not guilty
The rat-faced girls shyster lawyer
said something in her ear. She spoke
in dreadful raucous voice, simpering
II sure thank you, gents"
The dance-hall girls cheered feebly
Out of that fetid air into the late
afternoon blaze. "The dance halls
open about nine," Sabra said. "We'l
wait for that. In the meantime I'll
show you their rooms. The rooms
she looked about for the fresh-cheeked
Harvard boy. "Why, where"
"There's some kind of excitement
said the New York editor. People
have been running and shouting. Over
there in that field we visited awhile
ago. Here comes our young friend
now. Perhaps he'll tell u.s."
The Harvard boys color was higher
still. He was breathing fast. He had
been running. His eyes shone behind
the bone-rimmed spectacles.
"Well, folks, Wen never have mar
rover squeak than that"
"What?"
"They put fifty quarts in the Gypsy
pool but before she got down the oil
came I'D"
Quarts Of what?" interrupted an
editorial voice.
"Oh-excuse me-quarts of nitro
glycerin."
"My Cd"
"It's in a can, you know. A thing
like a can. 1t never had chance to
explode down there. 1t just shot up
with the gas and oil. If 1t had hit
the ground everything for miles around
would have been shot to hi and all
of us killed. But he caught it. They
say he just ran back like an outfelder
and gagged it with his eye while it
was up in the air, and ran to where
it would fall, and caught 1t in his
two arms, like baby, right on his
chest. 1t didn't explode. But he's
dying. Chest all caved in. They've
sent for the ambulance"
"Who? Who's he?"
II don't know his real name. He's
an old bum that's been around the
field, doing odd jobs and drinking
They say he used to be quite fellow
in Oklahoma in his day. Picturesque
pioneer or something. Some call him
old Vance and I've heard others call
him Sim or SIMEON Or
Sabra began to run across the road
"Mrs. Cravat! You mustn't-where
are you going?"
She ran on, across the oil-soaked
field and the dirt, in her little buckled
high-heeled slippers. She did not even
know that she was running. The
crowd was dense around some central
object. They formed wall-rousta-
bouts, drillers, tool dressers, shooters,
bumpers. They were gazing dow at
something on the ground.
"Let me by! Let me by!" They
fell back before this white-faced wom-
an with the white hair.
He lay on the ground, a queer.
crumpled, broken figure. She flung
herself on the oil-soaked earth beside
him and lifted the magnificent head
gently, so that 1t lay cushioned by her
arm. A little purplish bubble rose to
his lips, and she wiped it away WITH
her fine white handkerchief, and an
other rose to take it's place.
"Yancey! Yanceyw
He opened his eyes-those ocean
gray eyes with the long curling lashes
like a beautiful girls. She had thought
of them often and often, in an agony
of pain. Glazed now, unseeing.
Then, dying, they cleared. His lipn
moved. He knew her. Even then, dy-
ing, he must speak in measured verse.
"'Wife and mother-you stainless
woman-hide me-hide me in your
lover"
She had never heard a line of it.
She did not know that this was Peer
Gynt, humbled before Solveig. The
once magnetic eyes glazed, stared;
were eyes no longer.
She closed them, gently. She for
gave him everything. Quite simply,
all unknowing, she murmured through
her tears the very words of Solveig.
"Sleep, my boy, my dearest boy"