The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1936-05-21

TOSEPH FRANCES XAVIER
- MULROONEY pounded the oak
en- bar with his fist mad beloved:
Il don't believe in ghosts. Wouldn't
believe in one if I saw it,"
The long, hot afternoon wore on.
The barroom filled. The argument
waxed longer, louder, and more
profane as the big hand of the bar
room clock wllizzed round and the
little hand plodded after.
1t was $50 of a Saturday night
when Mulrooney staggered out of
the cloying neat of the speakeasy
into the heavy humidity TO the
night. But Mulrooney had suddenly
felt drunken distaste of keeping
company with men who believed in
the denizens Of the hereafter.
He remembered also that Maggie
who had a double task as his
wife and cook to the RoIlenbachs-
would be waiting for him in their
little cottage on the Rollenbach
estate. He was head chauffeur.
The station car which had
brought Joe to the village that
morning had long before returned.
He'd have to walk the two miles
home
Walking, in his condition, was no
easy matter. Nor did the swarms
OF mosquitoes that zoomed through
the heavy night alleviate his course.
CLAP He picked huge mashed
~ skeeter off his cheek.
Slap Another skeet bit Null
rooney.
The remainder Of the trip was
double fight for Joe-the road
wouldn't stay on the ground and
the mosquitoes wouldn't stay off him.
1t was 1870 p. m. when Null
rooney staggered through the great
iron gates of the estate and on down
the driveway to his own cottage.
Maggie was waiting for him.
AT 1875 Mulrooney was headed
toward the gate again.
And keep your drunken self away
until you sober up" muttered Mag
gle
He stopped to consider.
He had it. Slap! A skeet bit him.
He had that tool
He'd go down to the gatekeeper's
lodge and sleep on. Tom Finnegan's
cot. Tom'd be glad to have the COM
pany.
Joe was almost up to the lodge
- when his feet wobbled. His
steps CONCEALED in their tracks. Did
he--or didn't he-see IT? A float
ing headl A head without body.
There could be no mistaking the
fact that white, bodyless head
was bobbing along toward Joe, in
the darkening night.
Did Joe believe in ghosts? He
didn't even stop to consider.
'Heyl" the bodyleSs ghost shouted
at him.
For a being who had been Stun
bling hesitatingly along but sec
ond before Joe seemed to have been
transformed into an agile, CULVER
ing gazelle.
He fled up the drive toward the
great house. He tripped A roar
deafened his ears. There was
sting in his legs. He pitched head
long to the ground He struck his
head on hard object and lay I'M
conscious.
There was a great hullaballoo on
the Rollenbach estate that night.
The old lady herself took hand.
HONEST, Madame, I couldn't
Il l. tell it was Mulrooney," vowed
the gatekeeper, Tom Finnegan.
waving his gun. Il saw what looked
like drunken man coming down
the drive. I stepped out to see who
it was. When he saw me he turned
and ran like sixty. Thinking that
man who ran so fast could run
for no good. followed and yelled
at him. He kept on going toward
the house so l fred
I'm not blaming you, Finnegan,"
said the mistress of the house. "I'll
do more than that to him"
When Mulrooney came to, bleery-
eyed and fuzzy-headed, he saw it
again-leaning close TO him. The
ghosts head
"Ow! The saints preserve me
it's the ghoSt!" he shouted.
Gatekeeper Finnegan whipped off
the white mosquito netting mask
he was wearing.
What's the matter with you,
Joe? I'm no ghost. It's Finnegan.
Just put this new-fangled thing
on my head to keep the pesky skeet-
ers away"
oh" said Joe weakly.
Joe was pretty sick, physically
al and mentally. This time Mrs.
Rolenbach would certainly fire him
for this was the climax of long
series Of hinges.
The fatal day arrived. So did
Mrs. Rollenbach, looking extremely
stem and unforgiving. He squirmed
in bed and pulled the sheet up over
his whiskers.
He eyed the black CARRIED little
woman standing at the bedside.
- n WIEN TIM. TIE PAINT