The Oakdale Affair | Page 6

bulls, or croaking frogs. The boy's heart went out to them. Something that was almost a
sob rose in his throat, and then he turned the corner of the building and stood in the
doorway, the light from the fire playing upon his lithe young figure clothed in its torn and
ill- fitting suit and upon his oval face and his laughing brown eyes. For several seconds
he stood there looking at the men around the fire. None of them had noticed him.
"Tramps!" thought the youth. "Regular tramps." He wondered that they had not seen him,
and then, clear- ing his throat, he said: "Hello, tramps!"
Six heads snapped up or around. Six pairs of eyes, blear or foxy, were riveted upon the
boyish figure of the housebreaker. "Wotinel!" ejaculated a frowzy gentle- man in a frock
coat and golf cap. "Wheredju blow from?" inquired another. "'Hello, tramps'!" mimicked
a third.
The youth came slowly toward the fire. "I saw your fire," he said, "and I thought I'd stop.

I'm a tramp, too, you know."
"Oh," sighed the elderly person in the frock coat. "He's a tramp, he is. An' does he think
gents like us has any time for tramps? An' where might he be trampin', sonny, without his
maw?"
The youth flushed. "Oh say!" he cried; "you needn't kid me just because I'm new at it.
You all had to start sometime. I've always longed for the free life of a tramp; and if you'll
let me go along with you for a little while, and teach me, I'll not bother you; and I'll do
whatever you say."
The elderly person frowned. "Beat it, kid!" he com- manded. "We ain't runnin' no day
nursery. These you see here is all the real thing. Maybe we asks fer a hand- out now and
then; but that ain't our reg'lar lay. You ain't swift enough to travel with this bunch, kid, so
you'd better duck. Why we gents, here, if we was added up is wanted in about
twenty-seven cities fer about ev- erything from rollin' a souse to crackin' a box and
croakin' a bull. You gotta do something before you can train wid gents like us, see?" The
speaker projected a stubbled jaw, scowled horridly and swept a flattened palm downward
and backward at a right angle to a hairy arm in eloquent gesture of finality.
The boy had stood with his straight, black eyebrows puckered into a studious frown,
drinking in every word. Now he straightened up. "I guess I made a mistake," he said,
apologetically. "You ain't tramps at all. You're thieves and murderers and things like
that." His eyes opened a bit wider and his voice sank to a whisper as the words passed his
lips. "But you haven't so much on me, at that," he went on, "for I'm a regular burglar,
too," and from the bulging pockets of his coat he drew two handfuls of greenbacks and
jewelry. The eyes of the six registered astonishment, mixed with craft and greed. "I just
robbed a house in Oakdale," explained the boy. "I usually rob one every night."
For a moment his auditors were too surprised to voice a single emotion; but presently one
murmured, soulfully: "Pipe de swag!" He of the frock coat, golf cap, and years waved a
conciliatory hand. He tried to look at the boy's face; but for the life of him he couldn't
raise his eyes above the dazzling wealth clutched in the fingers of those two small, slim
hands. From one dangled a pearl necklace which alone might have ransomed, if not a
king, at least a lesser member of a royal family, while diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and
emeralds scintil- lated in the flaring light of the fire. Nor was the fistful of currency in the
other hand to be sneezed at. There were greenbacks, it is true; but there were also
yellowbacks with the reddish gold of large denominations. The Sky Pilot sighed a sigh
that was more than half gasp.
"Can't yuh take a kid?" he inquired. "I knew youse all along. Yuh can't fool an old bird
like The Sky Pilot --eh, boys?" and he turned to his comrades for confirma- tion.
"He's The Oskaloosa Kid," exclaimed one of the com- pany. "I'd know 'im anywheres."
"Pull up and set down," invited another.
The boy stuffed his loot back into his pockets and came closer to the fire. Its warmth felt

most comfort- able, for the Spring night was growing chill. He looked about him at the
motley company, some half-spruce in clothing that suggested a Kuppenmarx label and a
not too far association with a tailor's goose, others in rags, all but one unshaven and all
more or less dirty--for the open road is close to