That Printer of Udells | Page 3

figure, and pictured in every rag
of the fluttering raiment, and yet--the fellow really was hungry,--and
again came the thought of that fifteen cents. The young man was
hungry himself; had been hungry many a time in the past, and
downright, gnawing, helpless hunger is a great leveler of mankind; in
fact, it is just about the only real bond of fellowship between men.
"Come on," he said at last, "I've got fifteen cents; I reckon we can find
something to eat." And the two set out toward the city together.
Passing a deserted mining shaft and crossing the railroad, they entered
the southern portion of the town, and continued west until they reached
the main street, where they stopped at a little grocery store on the
corner. The one with the fifteen cents invested two-thirds of his capital
in crackers and cheese, his companion reminding the grocer meanwhile
that he might throw in a little extra, "seein' as how they were the first
customers that mornin'." The merchant, good-naturedly did so, and then
turned to answer the other's question about work.
"What can you do?"
"I'm a printer by trade, but will do anything."
"How does it happen you are out of work?"
"I was thrown out by the Kansas City strike and have been unable to
find a place since."
"Is he looking for work too?" with a glance that made his customer's
face flush, and a nod toward the fellow from Arkansas, who sat on a
box near the stove rapidly making away with more than his half of the
breakfast.
The other shrugged his shoulders, "We woke up in the same
straw-stack this morning and he was hungry, that's all."
"Well," returned the store-keeper, as he dropped the lid of the cracker
box with a bang, "You'll not be bothered with him long if you are really
hunting a job."

"You put me on the track of a job and I'll show you whether I mean
business or not," was the quick reply. To which the grocer made answer
as he turned to his task of dusting the shelves: "There's lots of work in
Boyd City and lots of men to do it."
The stranger had walked but a little way down the street when a voice
close behind him said, "I'm erbliged ter ye for the feed, pard; reckon I'll
shove erlong now."
He stopped and the other continued: "Don't much like the looks of this
yer' place no how, an' a feller w'at jes' come by, he said as how thar war
heaps o' work in Jonesville, forty miles below. Reckon I'll shove erlong.
Aint got the price of er drink hev' ye? Can't ye set 'em up jest fer old
times' sake ye know?" and a cunning gleam crept into the bloodshot
eyes of the vagabond.
The other started as he looked keenly at the bloated features of the
creature before him, and there was a note of mingled fear and defiance
in his voice as he said, "What do you mean? What do you know about
old times?"
The tramp shuffled uneasily, but replied with a knowing leer, "Aint ye
Dicky Falkner what used ter live cross the river from Jimpson's
still-house?"
"Well, what of it?" The note of defiance was stronger.
"Oh nuthin, only I'm Jake Tompkins, that used ter work fer Jimpson at
the still. Me 'n yer daddy war pards; I used ter set 'em up ter him heap
o' times."
"Yes," replied Dick bitterly, "I know you now. You gave my father
whiskey and then laughed when he went home drunk and drove my
mother from the cabin to spend the night in the brush. You know it
killed her."
"Yer maw allus was weakly-like," faltered the other; "she'd no call ter
hitch up with Bill Falkner no how; she ort ter took a man with book

larnin' like her daddy, ole Jedge White. It allus made yer paw mad
'cause she knowed more'n him. But Bill lowed he'd tame her an' he
shor' tried hit on. Too bad she went an' died, but she ort ter knowed a
man o' Bill's spirit would a took his licker when he wanted hit. I
recollect ye used ter take a right smart lot yerself fer a kid."
The defiance in the young man's voice gave way to a note of hopeless
despair. "Yes," he said, "you and dad made me drink the stuff before I
was old enough to know what it would do for me." Then, with a bitter
oath, he continued, half to himself, "What difference does it make
anyway. Every time I try to break loose something reaches out and
pulls me down again. I thought I was free this time sure and here comes
this thing. I