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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, July 22, 1912, Image 14

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1912-07-22/ed-1/seq-14/

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poor house there. It was too dan
gerous a proceeding. He took
ship from Savannah and landed in
Jpr Vnrtr axtIi'at-p Tin rciimf1 flic
fit old riverside life. He did not ex
plain his two years of absence,
and none asked him. It does not
pay to be inquisitive along the
water front.
All this flashed through his
mind in a moment. The next, he
had raised his head and met
James' gaze steadily.
"You you've got well, James,"
he said huskily. "You're fat and
strong."
"Doctor said it was the pines
done it," assented James. He
could afford to wait if Sullivan
could.
"Well, I ain't seen her," said
Sullivan at last. "Too risky.
What're you going to do about
it; what?"
"You blackguard," James
screamed. "She died, died there
last month. When they told me I
knew I'd follow you to the end of
the world until I found you. I es
caped I got a bullet through me,
"but that couldn't kill me till I
found you. You fool, you told me
where you were going to hide."
"Hide?" laughed Sullivan.
"Why, Sullivan, you think you're
James. You're Sullivan now, and
I'm James, and a word to the po
lice will bring them down on you.
Come, have a drink and we'll call
it square."
James threw back his head and
laughed shrilly.
"I'm Sullivan," he answered.
"Yes in the convict camp. But
I didn't bring the convict guards
along to identify you. I brought
the chief of police of Atlanta, who
measured and took your mug."
He pulled a whistle from his
pocket and blew the call. And,
even as Sullivan sprang at his
throat, he felt the muzzle of a' pis
tol press hard against his cheek.
He looked up in the face of the
police chief of Atlanta.
"Come along Sullivan," said the
latter cordially.
o o
FOXY GRANDPA.
'I can't reach it, grandpa.1
im
'Try it noyr, Tommy.
4
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1

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