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Newspaper Page Text
STAR OF HOPE
By Selina Elizabeth Higgins.
It was a fortunate circumstance
that John Bross wore a heavy hat
and a wig when, turning into one of
the worst streets of the big city, he
was suddenly pounced upon by two
footpads. They did not even sound
the worning of 'hands up!" but while
one of them threw his arms about
his neck from behind, the other rais-
"I'll Be Clad To Do It, Governor."
ed a heavy slungshot and aimed a ter
rific blow at him.
"Help!" naturally shouted Mr.
3ross, and then felt a stunning con
' act and sank helpless to the ground.
He was not entirely divested of
jonsciousness, for as said, his hat
and wig. protected him. The dead
ening blow he received did him no
physical injury beyond raising a bad
lump on his head. As he sank down
a blurred picture greeted his vision.
A roughly dressed but stalwart man
shot around the comer. He sprang
at the two footpads bending over
their victim and preparing to rob him.
Whack! bang! biff! One of the
fellows went hurtling head over heels
into the gutter. The other, holding
his hand to a badly damaged optic,
sneaked away with a bellow of pain
"Hurt, boss?" solicitously inquired
the rescuer, helping Mr. Bross to his
"No not seriously," answered Mr.
Bross confusedly. "They were foot
pads?" "Just that. Luckily you hollered;
I was just in time."
"Who who are you?" spoke Mr.
"Don't remember me?" laughed
the other. "You gave me half a dol
lar just before you turned the corner.
It's a big stake for a fellow as near
desperation as I was, and I was glad
to put up a fight for you. Why, mis
ter, you're wearing a false wig and
beard! What's that for, now?"
"Get me somewhere to rest and
steady my shaken nerves," said Mr.
Bross. "You have saved my life, my
friend. Surely my money," he added,
as they sat down at a table in the
nearest restaurant. "I see you are
honest and trustworthy and I want
you to do a little service for me at a
"I'll be glad to do it, governor,"
said the tramp.
"The reason I am disguised," ex
plained Mr. Bross, "is that I have a
curiosity to see low life as it really is
in the slums of a great city."
"Say, mister," observed the tramp,
spurring up, "you couldn't have
struck a boter guide!"
The speaker proved his boast.
When Mr. Bross had recovered him
self a little they started out. For
two hours the tramp piloted his com
panion through the lodging house
district, a hideous experience that at
times made his companion (quail.
They sat down finally 'to' rest in a
drinking resort infested by mere
wrecks of humanity. All along Mr.
Bross betrayed more of interest than