Argosy, Vol. 111, No. 1 — page 101: what you’re looking at

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

RESURRECTING Their series of petty quarrels had ended in a violent ruction. For the first time in life he offered to defend himself, and he was led to regret his impetuosity. A man physical- ly unable to work acts unwisely in trying to prove it to his wife with a barrel stave. He regretted his wife’s termagant na- ture; he himself was of a mild, equable temper. His return to her partook of grim necessity rather than pleasure. He was over fifty years old, and too stiff to ride the “ gunnels ” with safety, and of late his rheumatism had been getting worse. Work he would not, and to beg too often meant going hungry. Yes, it was better to go back to her; there was no alternative. He would bear with her tantrums tolerantly. Memories of her remote persecutions paled before the more recent discourtesies of brakemen, policemen, irate farmers, and vicious dogs. And in these hardships he suffered in vain; they were not followed by a warm bed and warm, regular meals. But how explain his long absence? his years of silence? He had studied cut a working excuse. Shame—shame and a broken spirit. He would tell her that he had spent all these long, silent years in a Western penitentiary, and he was too ashamed and crushed in pride to write. Dovie would believe it. She had too often said that he would end in the penitentiary; she had oftener said that he should end there. And the kid? For an instant his gorge swelled with tenderness at the thought of little Minnie. A chubby, laughing, cooing little mite. Always wanted to hold his finger, and say, ‘‘ da-da.” ‘“‘ Well, I’ve come back, hon,” he re- And hearsed with a broken voice; “ back from the bowels of the grave. Worser than the grave, Dovie.” Already he was ravenously hungry, though only the night before he had eaten . two whole onions and a turnip. And he wanted a drink. But Dovie had a washer- woman’s antipathy to heart-gladdening beverages; he would have to lay off of the booze for a while, anyway. So thinking in his jumbled, disconnected way, he approached the city. He sensed ALABAMA SLIM. 91 a change, but he was too intent on his own troubles to notice his surroundings closely. Not till he stood on the corner of Main- Street and Chickasee Avenue did the city rise up and slap him in the face. ‘““How’d I make this mistake?” thought. ‘“ This ain’t Nebo.” A glance at the signs convinced him of his error. ‘“ Aw g’wan, g’wan!” Slim told the whis- pering air. ‘‘ Where’s the subway an’ the elevated an’ Central Park?” It might be well to get the lay of the land before going home, and he strolled off down the street, looking for familiar faces. he . Faces there were in abundance—faces, faces, everywhere, but not a one he knew. And when at last he saw one that he rec- ognized he hastily averted his head and passed on. For it was the face of a man to whom he owed two dollars, and he was in no position to remit. Perhaps he could get. his information from strangers. Edging up to a foppish youth before the new bank, he initiated conversation by asking the youth’s name. The young man looked him over with dis- favor before parting with the information that he was known at home as Pink Gibbs. ‘“Not Mr. Solomon’s son?” Slim asked incredulously. The young man was, and he saw no rea- son for denying it. ‘“ Aw, g’wan, g’wan!” said Alabama Slim. ‘“ Pink Gibbs is jes’ a little shaver, so high. That is, he was when I knowed him.” Up sauntered another gentleman, whom Slim recognized instantly. He was Hen Owens, Slim’s boyhood friend. How many times they had shot craps and played poker and drunk wildcat whisky together Slim couldn’t say—perhaps ten thousand. On him Slim fell with brotherly affection. “Lo, Hen! Don’t know me, huh? Don’t look like yer ol’ frien’ Bill Thompson, do I, huh?” | For a moment Hen looked at the un- couth apparition, and then tore himself from Slim’s embrace. ‘Tell it to Sweeney!” he grunted sarcas- tically and walked off. Hen’s failure to recognize him was a bit- ter disappointment. He realized that he EComicloool