Evening star., 1932-12-19
BY DANIEL ROBERT MAUE.

derins boys.
BY DANIEL ROBERT MAUE.
An instant after the town marshal of
Du Pc, Ill. had locked me and my two
young hitch travelling companions in
his jail as I described in my previous
article, that We might be out of the
nights blizzard, I turned, thumped on
the steel panel and asked a private talk
with him.
Reluctantly he granted my request
Introductory letters carried for just
such an emergency. left him highly CO.
operative. The letters explained that 1
was travelling across the continent by
motor and freight; that I was in all
possible detail living the life of a hitch
traveller so I might study the personnel
of the unprecedented number OF young
men and boys who are besetting the
whole United States with their aim
less. bewlldered and destitute wandering
from city to city and State to State.
Dick Tracy and Melvin Knight. my
beyish companions of the Gays nine
miles Of rain. snow and cold. des cribed
also in yesterdays story, were still in
the cell room. The marshal readily
admitted them now into his Office. l
must go on, but first must explain to
was not quitting cold or deserting them
We found socks for Dick. And then we
trailed through the snow to Mother
Dyroff's little hotel and generously
piled dinner table.
After Dick and Melvin had consumed
vast amounts of provender, returned
with them to the Jail. said farewell to
the marshal. and made connections
with a night train for Little Rock, Ark,
and Texarkana, far to the south. Morn
ing brought a sunny day.
Waiting in Hope"
What town is this?" I asked bare
headed. overcoatless blond youth who
stood shivering. despite the sun, on the
platform Of a small station in Southern
Arkansas.
oh" he said. startled. He turned
to look at the stations signboard. "Oh,
sure! It's Hope" He laughed in ap-
probation of having been trapped and
Of the significance Of the towns name
as applied to himself.
Then you aren't from here?"
Little Rock"
waiting for a freight"
"Yes-about two hours. Nones come
along"
Going far this time?"
Home? There's nothing to do there.
I came here to see a friend. I've been
home now about seven eeks"-home
from q Summers 'jaunt through Mis-
souri,, Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi
and Texas.
My train went on and put me down
In TeXarcana m mid-afternoon.
Ninety seconos after left the coach
I was talking with Louis De Busk. 10,
of Detroit.
You waiting for freight?' asked.
YOU'RE telling mel he countered.
Where to?"
"Oh-Longview CTex). or somewhere.
It doesn't make much difference" We
had talked a moment when he said:
This is the darndest town. I can't
seem to get a bit. I've put up such
stories that they make the tears come
to my own eyes. but guess these cotton
farmers haven't got ANYTHING them
selves"
And there wasn't much to eat at
home?"
We'll. not too much. And lots Of
brothers and sisters-six. I'm the
Oldest"
Worked rs Coal Passer.
Louis had been standing against the
corner Of a hotel along the station
street when I approached. His stout
shoes, overalls, open shirt and suit
coat branded him as transient.
The night before he had been SO cold
in his hitched position among the Gin
ders behind a speeding freight engines
tender that he had finally crawled
over the coal and offered his services
to the engineman and fireman as q
coal passer
He had quit the eleventh grade in
school when a job was offered him at
the Howard Baking Co., Detroit. Then,
as selected employe, he had been sent
to the Fleischmann School OF Bakery;
graduated from there. There was no
employment for a young baker. He
went from coast to coast last Summer
and as far South as Memphis during
the Fall.
Sure was going to stay home when
I got there the last time. The fellows
on the road are all going to stay home
But one Of the boys said, Let's start
West?' And here am
offered to split few cents on food.
When later Louis and I left small
restaurant and turned corner we were
in the midst of eight young men-a
barber from Kansas City; a sandy
haired youth, 81. out Of Poplar Bluff,
Bronx, New York City and\five others,
about whom I picked up no informa-
ton.
Chased From Yards.
After I had eased myself from the
afternoon group, I entered the freight
yards lying beyond the passenger sta
ton. A stream OF curses came 10 me
from beyond a newly arrived freight.
fhro,,ph hn toll
chap goading four young men and
child along the ballast.
Not one of you critters is worth a
hurrah," Is the best summing para
phrase I dare give of his remarks as
he drove the five out Of the yard
asked permission to snap the re-
treat with my midget camera. Il don't
know you,' sullenly said the man. a
railroad special agent. Then reached,
too quickly. for an inside pocket. The
agents right hand went to his pocket,
but l beat him on the draw-of ere
dentials Meanwhile the FIVE transients
had disappeared.
This hard man answered some Of the
descriptions of a Southwestern yard
bull who within two years has become
IN American tradition.
Sauntering out of the yards at their
western end, spent hours with groups
about campfires.
At one spot. behind a pile of iron
pipe, a hobo of advanced years was the
center of attraction for five young men.
Watching him was a pop-eyed. 16-
year-old authority on Southwestern
freight schedules He was headed for
Del Rio, Tex. where he could be warm
and have all the fruit he could eat.
New Recruits for Road.
An exceedingly tall and slender blond
Fellow was shifting all the clothing from
his pack to his person. When he had
finished he wore three pairs of breeches.
two pairs of gloves. five shirts and a
leather wind d-breaker, all topped by q
init red cap.
A shifting boy of hang dog look and