The Luck of the Mounted | Page 9

a despairing little sigh, "whatever--"
Their eyes met and, at the droll perplexity he read in hers, George
laughed outright. An explosive frank boyish laugh. He rose with a
courteous gesture. "I'm afraid it's a case of 'if the mountain won't come
to Mahomet,'" he began, with gay sententiousness. "Won't you sit
down?"
The matron's kindly eyes appraised the bold, manly young face a
moment, then, with a certain leisurely grace, she stepped in between the

seats and, seating herself, lugged her two small charges down beside
her.
"I suppose, under the circumstances, an old woman like me can discard
the conventionalities?" she remarked smilingly.
Jerry and Alice leered triumphantly at their victim. "Now!" Jerry
shrilled exactingly "tell us all about hoboes!"
"They do carry empty tomato-cans, don't they?" pleaded Alice.
It was now their guardian's turn to laugh at his dismay. "You see what
you've let yourself in for now?" she remarked.
"Seems I am up against it," he admitted, with a rueful grin, "well! must
make good somehow, I suppose?"
With an infinitely boyish gesture he tipped his fur cap to the back of his
head and leaned forward with finger-tips compressed in approved
story-telling fashion.
"Once upon a time!--" a breathless "Yes-s"--those two small faces
reminded him much of terriers watching a rat-hole--"there was a hobo."
He thought hard. "He was a very dirty old hobo--he never used to wash
his face. He was walking along the road one day when he heard a little
wee voice call out 'Hey!'. He looked down and he saw an empty
tomato-can on a rubbish heap. Tomato-cans used to be able to talk in
those days and the hoboes were very good to them--always used to
drink out of them and carry them to save them from walking. This can
had a picture of its big red face on the outside. 'Give us a lift?' said the
can. 'Where to?' said the old hobo. 'Back to California, where I came
from,' said the can. 'All right!' said the old hobo, 'I'm goin' there, too.'
And he picked the can up and hung it round his neck and kept on
walking till they came to a house. The window of the house was open
and they could see a big fat bottle on a little table. 'Ah!' said the old
hobo 'here's an old friend of mine!--he's comin' with us, too,' And he
shoved his arm through the window and put the bottle in his pocket. By
and by they came to a river--'Hey!' said the can, again--'What's up?'

said the old hobo--'I'm dry,' said the can--'So am I,' said the hobo; and
he dipped the can in the water and gave it a very little drink. 'Hey!' said
the can, 'give us a drop more!'--'Wait a bit!' said the old hobo, and he
pulled the cork out of the bottle. 'Don't you pour any of that feller into
me!' said the can, 'he'll burn my inside out--an' yours--if you pour him
into me I'll open my mouth where I'm soldered and let him run out, and
you won't be able to drink out of me any more. Chuck him into the
river!--he's no good.'
"'You shut your mouth!' said the old hobo, 'or I'll chuck you into the
river!' And he poured some of the stuff out of the bottle into the can--"
At this exciting point poor George halted for breath and mopped his
forehead. He felt fully as thirsty as the tomato-can. But the children
were upon him, clutching his scarlet tunic:
"What did he do then?" howled Jerry.
"Eh?" gasped the young policeman,--"oh, he opened his mouth where
he was soldered and let the stuff run out. So the old hobo threw him
into the river. That's why hoboes always pack a bottle with them now
instead of a tomato-can."
He leaned back with a sigh and, thrusting his hands deep into his
pockets, smiled wanly at his vis-à-vis.
"There!" he said, with feeble triumph, "I've carried out the sentence."
And it did him good to drink in her mirthful, waggish laugh.
"Yes!" she conceded gaily, "you certainly did great execution, though
you look more like a prisoner just reprieved."
Jerry, screwing up his small snub nose leered triumphantly across her
lap at Alice. "Goozlemy, goozlemy, goozlemy!" he squeaked, "that
man was a real hobo."
His grimace was returned with interest. Alice hugged her puppy awhile

contentedly, murmuring in that canine's ear, "What a silly old thing that
tomato-can must have been. If I'd been him I'd have kept my mouth
shut."
"Cow Run!" intoned the brakeman monotonously, passing through the
coaches, "Cow Run next stop!" His eye fell on Redmond. "Wish I'd
seen you before, Officer!" he remarked, "I'd have had a hobo for you.
Beggar stole a ride