The evening world. Newspaper, December 3, 1921, Page 13

FRE LEED PALES OF ——_ x 2 of TWO SECTIONS. Our work is mot design, but destiny, —Owen Meredith “Clytemnestra.” 6 URE!” affirmed “Squinty” Phelan, stoutty. “‘A bao - S jute-ly, Boss! J promise— on me affidavy. You should worry. I'l be back on the 610 to-_ night.” The big warden, whose faith in his fellow man‘had never yet wavered, clapped the little, twisted fellow beside hint upon the shoulder and pushed him almost affectionately out of ‘he prison office. “Well, Squinty, go to .t! Remember! “Word of honor,’ now!” Then the Boss closed the coor and ‘eft the convict a free mun cutside— free for six hours on his own parole. Squinty fitted on the derb, hat he had borrowed from one of the kocpers and took a tentative step along the mac- adam. In the warden's enormous black cutaway he looked cvricusly like a crow. A half minute later Squinty, ® grotesque figure, was hurrying along the road to the railroad station. Back in the office in the bare brick building on the hill over the track, Tim Anders, the trusty, watched bim through the window, ‘Tim, as Vice President of the Mutuzl Welfare League, had his doubts. What was the use? The Boss was ali right—had o big heart and all that—but he was taking a big chance in lating & com- yicted professional safecracker go off by himself to New York to his grand- mother’s funeral. If Squiaty shouldn't turn up, then they would ail be in bad, heir privileges would be cut off, and to use his own mental expression, the whole damm League be put om the bum. He grunted disapprovingly, as he contemplated the brass cuspidor he was polishing upon his kaees. “What's the matter, Tim” inquired the warden from his desk. “Jealous?” “Me?—Huh!" The trusty p'aced the cuspidor on the floor and sat back on his haunches. “Suppose the little runt don't come back?" “He will come back!” asverted the Boss with conviction. “anybody else, mebbe'’ muttered ‘lim. “But Squinty’s a weik eharac- ter, You can't count on him, Does whatever happens to come along. Ain't got no will of his own. Fact. He'll do anything you tcli him, He ain't a real gun at all—beiangs to the class of mental deficients, a ‘high- grade neuro’—ain't that what the bug doctors call ‘em? ‘You mean, if he sees a safe he cracks it!" smiled the warden. “You've said it!” assented the other. “He's a good sort, whatevor else he 1!" returned the warden “Had less trouble with him than with most of you, And he’s only got six months u.ore to serve, He'd be srazy to beat it and forfeit all his time «ff for good behavior, He's earned a ycur and two months, besides making h ma:lf liable for another ten-year term on that sus- pended sentence of his!” QUINTY, the wardens cutaway flapping about his legs, scened to himself, as he entered the train, to fill the entire car. The blazing light from the river blinded him; the rattle and roar deafened him. Squinty, always retiring, sank in con- fusion to a secluded seat by the fire €xtinguisher, Those who in fact no- > a F U n She «GH “i N EVERY SATURDAY |} SATURDAY, DECEMBER 8, 1921. THE CROOKED EAIRY By ARTHUR TRAIN Illustrated by WILL B. JOHNSTONE _When- Squinty Saw a Safe He Cracked It—When Dean Saw a Duty He Did It—They Met, and Thus Arthur Train Spins One of His Best Stories of Love and High Finance liced him, saw only a meagr, marrow- shouldered middle-aged man with a plaintive, half-surprised j»ok upon his twisted face. If he had not had a real purpose in Loing to the city, he mignt very well have got out at Yonkers and taken the next train back to Ossining. The beat and dust gave bu. an aw- ful tliTfst and ao slight heutache. He had a curious, helpless fovlng. He comgratulated himself on having no Cuties except to go to the funeral and then come right back—‘bowe.” He had his return ticket—the warden had Landed it to him. And he had a two- doHar bill. “WELL, W E'RE JUST BUSTED, The funeral services fcr Grand- mother Phelan were heid at the house of his Uncle Richard in Long Island City, but he had no so mer arrived there than it became quite evident that his appearance was both unex- fected and inopportune. No place had been arranged for him in any one of the funeral hacka, so that ultimately he was thrust, ignominiously and much to his disgust, into the landau used to transport the flora’ decorations trom the house. Even at the cemetery bo waa clearly de trop, and he lingered in tne back- ground, the last to leave when the ceremonies were concluded. The others Se ° SECTION TWO. —. all piled into their hacks, but Squinty found himself standing disconsolately _nlone at the gate while they rolled off merrily toward the Queensboro Bridge. A fine lot they were! Curse them! Give him the boys at Sing Sing, the big boss,-the Welfare League and & fixed and unambiguous place in the eocial order! ° Squinty (as there were mo- street cars) started to walk beck to New York, The day was warm, and the Saturday afternoon strean: .f motors filled the air with a hanging pall of white powder that got in bis nose and eyes, Tired out, utterly miscrable, his throat fiery, the warden's dust-coy- HARD LUCK; THAT'S ALLL”