The Argosy, March 1907 — page 147: what you’re looking at

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

DOWN AND OUT. When he glanced up from the debtors’ court and saw the guards pacing the walls with Winchesters on their shoul- ders, and knew that he was just as much in danger of being shot down by those rifles if he mutinied against the rules of the prison as anv life-term man in the place—this knowledge, I say, was enough to drive him mad. The Jewish membe: had gone out by this time, and “ Dutchy ’ likewise. These defections brought the grcup of debtors closer together, for zo sew mein- bers entered fcr severai days. Mazyon, the Portr guese. was the only one of the party with whom Wib had not become fairiy well acquainted. He was a consumptive, and sometumes at night his coughicg xepi the prisoners awake and brought down upon his devoted head the threats o* tae night-watch. He was from Fayal, the island of “eternal summer,” anc the harsh climate of Fallowsea had aftectecd his lungs. His disease and inability «to work had brought him here The sheriff had been obliged to wait two weeks for Manyen to-recover from the effects of a hemorrhage beicre bring ing him to jail. And his original debt was for three weeks’ board in some foreign lodging-house down on_ the wharves of Fallowsea. Wib found that he had only to ask a question about Manyon’s native country to open the silent little man’s lips. Ah! it was a beautiful land—flowing in wine and fruits. December, January, and February ‘were the only wet months, and it was never cold then. The hills are covered with olive groves and vineyards, and Manyon smacked his lips over the remembrance of the light, harmless wine which costs about ten cents a gallon when five years old. ‘The peo- ple drink it like water. “But,” said Manyon, dr-r-ink mooch as dat /ere, you. dr-r-unk. ‘You be outside de ceety; ’spose-a you tirsty. Ask“for dr-r-ink of water. Dey say: ‘N o can give-a you water; give-a you wine. ‘Plenty fresh feesh, too!’ he contin- ued, smacking is lips, his white teeth gleaming under his jet-black mustache, and the little gold rings twinkling in “suppoes-a you it make-a 719 his ears. ‘ Feesherman come in ‘bout sax o’clock—sell feesh all alive. Not sell out by two—t’ree ’clock, t’row back in water—no goot!” That night Manyon had a bad cough- ing spell and the officer cursed him and threatened him with the dark cell if he did not “ shut up.” Strangely enough, this threat did not cure the consumptive’s cough. With the assistance of another brute, the guard hauled him out of his bed and shut him into the dungeon re- served for refractory -prisoners. Of course, they had no right to treat a debtor so outrageously; but might makes right very frequently behind the bars of a penitentiary. And, besides, Manyon was friendless and’ penniless. In the morning, when the dark cell was opened, the man was found uncon- scious, having had another hemorrhage, and was taken to the hospital ward, where, at least, he would have kind treatment and decent food. Bella wrote Wib that she had called on Mrs. Kempt at the Gallup Street house. “And say! ain’t she a peach? She don’t know a lady when she sees one,’ was Bella’s comment. The thought of the interview between the “ hash-house”’ waitress and the stiff and particular Mrs. Kempt brought a smile to Wib’s lips, disappointed as he was in the report that no letters were waiting for him there. By word of mouth, when she came the next week, Bella related to him her in- terview with Adrian Lowther’s mother. The little woman was evidently afraid of everybody who came to inquire about her son, and ai! Be..a could get from: her were tears *~- the admission that her brother-in-law received Adrian’s let- ters and transmitted her own to her son. “He says people will take advantage of me,” she had told Sella, “so I don’t even know where Adrian is now. He doesn’t tell me when he writes, and Mark won't tell me. I don’t know whether he’s really in the West or not. I thought he went there to work on a ranch.” “You can’t get anything sensible out of that woman,” declared Bella. ‘‘ She’s a kid—just a kid. Her men-folks boss her. Huh! Catch me lettin’ a man be the boss! ”’ EOI OOO <Sq(€0) im