Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 4, 1925 — page 141: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

SENOR JINGLE BELLS. “Tove him?” growled Little Samuel. ‘“Nope, but I figgered that he was the one gent in the world that could teach me the sort of things that I mostly wanted to know, and that he was the sort of a gent that could take care of me when J needed care- takin’, Y’ understand? ‘Well, before I was able to walk, he goes back to the town. He says to ’em: ‘Friends, if you was sure that this here nigger would never come back and bother you none, would you agree to wipe off all of the charges ag’in’ him? Would you turn him loose and let him go, and never try to get him again, if he was to promise to leave these here parts and never to come back?’ “They figgered this all over, and they decided that they’d have one last try to catch me. So they done their mighty best, but it wasn’t good enough, because my boss was there takin’ care of me and lead- an’ the dogs off on the wrong trails. Pretty soon they give it up. And that very night my boss he sneaked down into town and he pretty near wrecked the place. He pretty near wrecked it, but he left my trade _mark behind him, so’s everybody would think that I’d done it. “ After that he went to see ’em again, and they was glad enough to make the bargain. They was sick of me and my ways, they said, and they’d drop every- thing they had ag’in’ me if I’d promise to clear out of there. Which I done. And the name of that boss of mine, lady, I guess you know him already—that’s El Cantor!” He continued: “ That’s why I say that he ain’t never met nothin’ that was big enough to really bother him none. He can’t lose, and he knows it. He can’t fail; it ain’t in him to. Me? I was nothin’ to him, and neither was the others.” ‘‘ But what is he aiming toward, Samuel? What’s his goal in life, or has he any?” ‘Miss Swain,” said the black man sol- emnly, “ I dunno that he quite understands himself; but I’ve always figgered- that he’d keep on smashin’ and breakin’ unti] he got into some sort of trouble that was bigger ,than he was, and that then he’d stop—and not till then!” 931 ‘“ Perhaps you are right—perhaps! And yet here he has left you in jail. Do you still have faith in him?” ‘“Lady, this ain’t no jail to him. When he wants to get me cut of it, he'll rip it in two and pick me out safe and sound to go along with him. You dunno what sort of a man this here El Cantor might be!” ‘“But are you sure that you will see him?” “Plumb certain to hear from him pronto.” ‘Then, when you have an opportunity, let him know that I wish to see him. Do you understand, Samuel? I wish to see him as soon as possible. But as for your es- cape—isn’t it safer in the long run to stand your trial—” ‘ That’s the old-fashioned way,” grinned Little Samuel. “ And it don’t fit E] Cantor no ways at all. I'll take my chances with him, lady.” CHAPTER XXXII. THE JUNGLE BREED. HERE were five men by the fire in the “jungle”; there was one man in the highest tip of the great tree which rose above this haven of the tramps. He kept good lookout in the moonlight for the approach of any strangers of a formidable respectability in their appear- ance. For these were stirring and unhappy times with the hoboes. The good men of Gloryville, enraged by the murder of poor old Mart Hendon at the hands of vagabonds, were quartering the countryside; and when they found a loafer they thought nothing of riding him on a rail and then rolling him in a coating of tar and strewing him with feathers. People who do not know think that the shame is the only punishment in this; but others, more wise, understand what trouble It needs to remove the tar from even one spot on a finger. So, the word of the reign of terror having gone forth, this small com- pany was gathered here. It had been herd- ed in from varying directions. They met here for a brief rest, the cook-. Conn lDOOlK