The Seattle Star Newspaper, December 14, 1922, Page 17

(Continued From Page © “Now let me tell you how they hap- pened to catch him, Maybe you heard—he and Dago Frank were in the act of breaking into the Western- Danish Bank. Part of this I'm giving you now came straight from Frank himeeclf, He say at they were in the alley, in the act of jimmying a window, and all at once Kinney straightened up as tf something had hit him and let the jimmy fall with a thump to the pavement, Frank salt he thought that the man had Sgone off hts nut,’ but It's my private opinion that he had been somewhat deranged all the time he was in Se- aitle, and he just came to, more or Jexs, that minute. The man hardly seemed to know what he was doing ‘Have you lost your guta Kinney? | Fran iked him; and Kinney stood there, staring like he didn’t know hy was being spoken to. He put hi hands to his headd, then, like a man with a headache, And the next tn- stant a cop came running from the mouth of the alley. “Kinney was heeled, but he didn't even pull bis gun. He still stood with his hands to his head All his pards in the underworld always said he'd die before he'd give up, but he Jet the cop take him like he was a baby. Frank got away, but they got him, you remember, three weeks later. After some kind of a@ trial Kinney was sent down here.” Sprigiey paused and shifted hts gun from his right to his left shoulder, “Youll say that's all common enough,” he went on. “Now let me tell you another queer thing. You know, the chief has started a sys- tem here to keep track of all the Prisoners, with the idea of making them good citizens when they get out He has them all fill out a card. Well, when this man Kinney turned tn his card, he had written ‘Ren’ on it, but the rest was absolutely Dienk. “Mr. Mitchell thought at first that the man couldn't write It turned @ut, tho, that he can write—an fnteligent hand, and spell good too. | 4:4,, ‘Then Mitchell decided he was just Mitehell persuaded yet, and may- be never will have him pe but I'm confident I know the an- ewer. The reason he didn't fill out When he was born, or who were his or where he had come from, or “Ben,” his first name, sounded to him, but ‘Kinney’ didn't— reason likely being that Kinney an alias adopted during his life @2 8 criminal. I suppose you've Beticed that queer, bewtldered look be has when any one calls him Kin- What his real name ts be doesn’t mark ‘@at man hasn't been a criminal a! ays. Something got wrong with his ao and he turned crock—you say that the criminal side that of has simply took posseasion him. That night tn the alley he himself—only his mind was not only in regard to criminal, but all s tia Y te 7-25 zs He the alley. had done, upon him, jut as Sprighey Gear! don't tell that Calhoun begged, not the two squaws and Peggy to think it, do you?” away as soon as the Was right, and I rowed as as I could, til we got to We put in there and I couldn't get to shore with the boat, but Miller saw us and “But even then we were four and a half miles from the Izetts. There was a pretty good wagon road to the place, however, and the little folks walked most of the way, tho I curried Sam a good deal. “And the next day was the Fourth of July, and we all had our picnic at the Haller place. Wonder what you would think now of spending two daya and a halt to go to a picnic half way around Whidby island! “But you want to hear about the squaws. That's good one on mother. “Well, one day I was coming THURSDAY, DECEMBER 14, 1922. or weird, wailing sound brought ReERReH THE SKY LINE OF--~ RRUCE 1990-Little, Brown & Company had eaid, that night had marked « change Tt was true that eo far as |facta wont he was no better off when he had come to himaeif he had | found his mind a blank regarding not jonty his career of crime, but all the years that had gone before. Even his own name eluded him. That of Kinney bad an alien sound in bis ore ‘The past had amply ceased to exist for him; and because It ts some way |the key to the future, the latter jfeomed Mkewise blank,—a toneleas gray that did not tn the least waken j his Interest, Indeed the only light |that flung into the unfathomadie darkness of his for; that whioh played tn Might. Sometimes these were tn- ordinately vivid, quite tn contrast to | the routine of prison lite Me felt if he could only recall these dreama clearly they would interpret jtor him the mystery of his own life. | He wakened, again and again, with | the consctousness of having dreamed the most stirring, amazing drea but what they © he couldn't tell He could only remember fragments. | such as @ picture of rushing waters recurring again and again—and sometimes an amazing horizon, a dark line ourtously notched against & pale green background. They were not all bad dreams: tn reality many of them stirred him and |moved him happily, and he would | waken to find the mighty tides of hi } surging fiercely thru ¢t j avenues of yeina, Evidently they re- called some happiness that was for gotten, And there was one phase, at least, of this work in the road gangs that brought him moving, tntense de- Meht. It was merely the sight of the bird Hfe, abounding tn the flelds and meadows about the towna There had been quite a northern migration lately, these late apring days, The lesser songsters were al ready mating and nesting, and found secret pleasure tn thelr eh: calls 4 bustling activity. But they 't tegin to move him as did the waterfowl, pasing {0 long V-shaped Mocks. That strange, wild wanderer’s greeting that the gray geere called down to their lesser brethren tn the meadows had a really extraordinary effect upon him. It always caught him ap and held him, stirring some part of him that he existed, Sometimes the him quite to the edge of rofound dis covery, but always the flocks sped on and out of hearing before he could quite grasp It. When the moon . thru the barred win- dow of his cell, he sometimes felt the same way. A great, white mysterious moon that he had known long ago. It was queer that there should be a relationship between the gray geose and the cold, white satellite that rode he sky. Ben Kinney never tried to puzale out what It was; but he always know it with a knowledge not to be denied, The last of the waterfowl had passed by now, but the northern mi- gration wae not yet done. The sun atill moved north; warm, north-blow- tng winds blew the last of the lower- ing, wintry clouds back to the Arctic Seas whence they had come. And the road work the convicts } . | 4d not in the least hide a smile that | 5 | kindliness and humor. rir Bee ges! see what had attracted They saw what seemed a white-haired oid nderer years or more; but at first were wholly at a lows to explain ‘s fascinated look of growing in- It was true that the olf man represented the usual worth- less, criminal type that took to vagabondage. As he paused to scrut- imize the convict gang neither in- solence nor fear, one of which was aH ifs home from work and long before I reached the house, I heard the sound of Indian voices raised in song. -“ "What's It all about? I won- dered, and I hurried on, Fancy my surprise when, as I neared the house, I saw a fat squaw seated atop of ich high gate. post, smiling blandly and singing at the top of her voice. “I hastened tn and said, “What does it mean?’ and my wife look- ed so fuswed and embarrassed os she explained-—"We—ell, you see, they came for some apples, and— and I didn’t have any for them. But I had some of that, cider I was going to make vinegar of, and I let them have @ gallon and— and 1 thought they would take it home, of course, But they didn’t. They didn't take any of it home, They drank it—-every drop! Then they climled up there and began to sing.” ” How teaned the dear little lady looked as they all laughed over the story. It was so funny, for anybody could look at her and know she never would have dealt out “tipsy” drinks to her savage neighbors. Before the kiddies were done asking questions about the cider story, Mrs, Libby remembered an- other Indian one. We'll have that tomorrow, |Werd in the arms of the elderly the other gripped her shoulder. \straight and tall and looked about ATTLE STAR BY AHERN PAGE 17 OUR BOARDI! THE OL) HOME TOWN + HOUSE > Was ONE BRR. Pry TH! WEM+HiEHy VERY Ou MY such oF “WEese Pook BAREFOOTED| / WELL MUH PROUD 1 KNiow “TALENT NEWSPAPER ARABS ON A NIGHT | | BEAUTYs REMEMBAH, \T SEEMS A SHAME You BOYS You BOVS WILL BE THE SENGATION OF OUR ENTERTAIN. “SNOW FLAKES” HAG "TH WEATHER REPORTON IT, AND (TSAVS “FAIR AND WARMER”! LIKE “THiG! « SIR COURTNEY, You FEWD, I WILL PERISH FIRST WITH MY CHEEILD IN THIG BUZZARD. BEFORE I TELL WHER MY DEAR OLD FAWTWA WID TWEE WAFFLE \RON = L DEFY I WILL LBAVe You WERE “Toe MERCY oF THE WoLvVes! AND MY MEN WILL TorTURE YouR WANDSOME LOVER WITH A HAIRCUT! CLK-CLK = THINK OF THAT GEL! SOME TIME DURING THE NIGHT THE TWO RAMPS "-g. | WHO HAVE BEEN GATING THE “TOWN MINTO Deer DUG THEIR WAY OUT OF THE JAIL WITH A PUTTY KNIFE- ee lo |p TREWeARSING aN f+ ne Cy Zz certainly to be expected, necame| BVERETT TRUE manifest tn bis face. They bad antici- | pated certain words in greeti certain look out of birary, sh eyes, but neither materialized. True, the old man was following the cinder trail northward, but plainly he did not belong to the brotherhood of tramps. They saw that he was white. haired and withered, but upright: and that undying youth dwelt in his twinkling blue eyes and the com- plexity of little, good-natured lines about his mouth. Poverty, age, the hardships of the cinder trail had not conquered him In the least. He was small physically, but his skinny arma and legs looked an tf they were made of high-tension wire, His face ‘was shrewd, but also kindly, and the gray stubble on hia cheeks and chin { OIS MUST BE ONE —— OF DEM SELF SERVE was surprisingly boyish and win- ning. And when he spoke his cracked go0d-natured votce was perfectly tn) character, evidently that of a man, Possessing full self-respect and con- | fidence, yet brimming over with easy Roth guards would have felt tn- stantly, instinctively friendly toward | him if they had been free to feel at | all Instead they were held and amazed by the apparent fact that at | the first scrutiny of the man's out- line, bis carriage and his droll, wrinkled face, the prisoner Kinney was moved and stirred as if con- fronted by the risen dead. | The old man himecif halted, re- turning Kinney’s stare. The moment | had, still half conceated, an unmis- | takable quality of drama. In the contagion of suppressed excitement, the other prisoners paused, their tools held stiffly in thetr handx. Kinnoy’s | mind seemed to be reaching, groping | for some astonishing truth that 4 : > Uf eluded him. : Nyt The old man ran, In great trides, i i g toward him. “My God, aren't you| Ben Darby?" he demanded. ‘The convict answered him as from & great distance, his volce cool and calm with an infinite certainty. “of | course,” he said. “Of cour: "mn | sols so I'm! (Continued THE ONE-MAN WOMAN BY RUTH AGNES ABELING Ward. A little later Kate walked alone out in the garden where the holly: |hocks grew tall and pink. On down the little path she went toward the |cool, green dusk of the grove, | “TI can forget here—and I can find {him again here,” she murmured aa she rested against the soft moss at the foot of a huge oak. There was in her heart a very definite happiness despite the lonell. |ness. Because Kate Ward kmew that she had come back, all the way back, a little narrow, primitive path. She remombered so well the night |she dropped out of her bedroom win: dow and started down the road, Re- membered the season that had fol- lowed, the mad hit-or-miss days with Elsie, until Dan Ward, in his ear, passed the park be on which ahe sut alone that morning. The way down to that morning hadn't been the glorious, free, rose- pink, candlelight way of the ro. |mancer’s imagination. It was a it. said he “Or, I should say, @ bit of magical medicine.” “Why, what's wrong with asked the Green Wizard in prise. “Oh, my medicine's al) right, it's the people,” answered Dr. Sm fles gloomily, “When I get ' cured of @ cold, they get the matism, and when I get them of that they get the chilblatns, when I fix that all right, they the shingles, next it's the h then dyspepsia and mumps and ache and—well, some folks never get cured, I thought mebbe you knew of @ magical cine that would cure everything once.” “I see—I see! declared the G Wizard. “It's the same folks keep sending for you over and and you want to get them oured for good ‘n’ all,” “That's just it,” replied Dr. ADVENTURES OF NINS Clive CHAP. 5.—-BACK TO THE OLD LIFE It seemed as if she must have gone |of broth, and a bone for your" on the wind, so quickly was Kate! sonk expressed approval with « mad twitching of his stubby tail and followed Kate to the kitchen. “Didn't do much dishwashing, reckon, 4n the city?" Justin was helping his daughter to put away the breakfast things. “Not much!’ amiling. “That's the trouble with us, Katie —not enough dishes to wash and clothes to mend for the women, or kids to support for the men,” rumbled Justin, “No,” softly. “Your fault?" suggested the elder. man. “My little girl—my little Katle—" her father repeated the words, one huge hand rumpling her hair while In & moment of silence Kate stood the little place. At length the ques. tion formed on her lips, *"Mother?” she said. “Gone—child,” gently. Almost with the dawn Kate Ward wan up. While she dressed, Monk padded |!¥ man. tle way, shadowed and uncertain, fles. oe a very und ; “You.” licked on either side by the flan of 4 i ” an a - bot out one AS eon oe eee Dou y tyind aati S wekle wet gee cineed conbebaes, 1 ‘Nancy, bring me @ bettie fectionate nose over her slippers. /inew you to toll an untruth, but 1| primitive way, steps rough-hewn by my cupboasd,", sald wie Gress “How do you do, Dr. Snuffles,” she cried when she spied Then he stretched, with his huge|/know you aren't that kind of a| * desire, ‘i i ard, “and, Nick, bring me that forepiiwn on her shoulders while he} woman.” tosis ye ee by that her little old friend. pitcher with the clear stuff in looked confidingly but questioningly| “He's gone now—anyway,” gently. |same little way that she went—with | Dr. Snuffies, the little fairy doctor | door, Next the wizard filled the into her face. Justin Parsons looked at his|one burden added—doubt of the man|man of Whispering Forest, rang the} “How do you do, Dr, Snuffies,” she |out of the pitcher and then “We'll get him a@ nice breakfast, |daughter sharply. That was like|who loved her, She had known that |Green Wizard's doorbell one day. cried when she spied her little old jon a big label which said, “! Medicine. Good For All That Your" i: “There,” he said. “That ought Nancy ran down the stairway on the inside of the big pine-tree where the wizard lived, and opened the friend, “Come right tn and walk up- stairs, please, Mr, Wizard will be ‘er and ever so glad to see you,” her, just to come and not any any- thing, It was like her neither to ask for nor to expect sympathy, and while he lived, Dan never felt quite sure about her, but she felt that with his passing he must under. won't we?” Kate questioned, think- ing of Justin, who, in the room on the other side of the hall, was stir. — stand, When everybody had said how-do. | fix tl . But be sure to show ring to consoiousnogs and trying to) «Katle—I didn't know; I'm sorry,”| So, even in her loneliness, more toward the little house, you-do and shaken hands all ‘round | patients the label, Dr. Snuffies.”* clarity his vision; tn whiten persisted | ne spoke. was happy because she was sure he| ‘‘Katio,” he said, as she neared,|and Nick had set a chair for the| Dr. Snuffies took the bottle, tl Kate and her mother as they were} And that was all that was said years before. between Kate Ward and her father “Hot biscults, Monk—and a bowl| concerning the parsing of Dan “there's someone here to see you.” (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1922, by Seattle Star) ed him and left. (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1922, by Seattle: a knew @ length that her heart haa gone every step of the way back, She smiled as she turned once visitor, Dr, Snuffies told them why he had come. “I want a little magical medicine,”