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Show Elyley Cooper (WNU Service.) Copyright by Courtney Ryley Cooper PRECEDING EVENTS Joe Barry, country youth In New York, ekea out a living a3 caretaker In a poor rooming house and accordion player in Louie Bertolini's restaurant. Lured by the open country, he spends a nigrht in the fields, near Newburgh. Bertolini discharges him. Friendless and "broke," he is ottered $10,000 by a man he knows only as "Martin" to Impersonate Im-personate a liquor runner facing arrest. It means thn penitentiary, peniten-tiary, but Joe Is desperate. Uf defers decision until the next night, and is given $1,000 "on account." ac-count." Next day Joe deposits $S00 In country banks, giving his name as Joseph Bradley. A circus cir-cus attracts him. Outside a tent he sees an accordion and is tempted to play .It. A girl. Sue Dayton, niece of the owner, who admires the music, urges him lo join the cjrcus, but Joe says he must first return to New York "on business." He has decided to refuse "Martin's" offer. In his room four men accost him. Bewildered, Be-wildered, Joe sees the men, who are detectives, find large amounts of money, a machine gun, and two revolvers. Next day, under un-der arrest, Joe Is identified by men who had seen him the night before near Newburgh, when two prohibition agents were killed and robbed Joe finds he is charged with their murder and robbery. He realizes "Martin's" "Mar-tin's" object to have him found guilty of the murders, executed, and the case closed. A man known as "Fullhouse," waiter at Bertolini's. hurts Joe's case by his evidence. Joe keeps silent as to his previous day's doings, fearing to embarrass Sue Dayton. Day-ton. Pete Maxwell, a detective, appears friendly, but Joe fears everybody. His cellmate. Hymle Fradke, gives Joe $20. Next day Fradke, having secured a revolver, revolv-er, "shoots It out" with prison guards. an3 Is killed. In the confusion con-fusion Joe escapes. Using the $20 Fradke had given him. Joe flees New York. CHAPTER V Continued 15 This was to be his trial. Certainly bankers would watch the newspapers, and be alert for the sight of criminals. Immediately, Joe. fought against the word; he was not a criminal, he told himself. But he laughed mirthlessly ; it was a grimace and an expulsion of breath, little more. He was adjudged a criminal crim-inal and he was being hunted as a criminal; a murderer, if that made it any clearer, and what difference did it make if in his own mind, he knew himself to be innocent? That was bad reasoning. t It made him shaky. Then suddenly he whirled, walking swiftly, and turned in at the door of the bank. "Good afternoon," he said, and waited. wait-ed. The banker looked up. "Oh, hello," he said, and smiled. "Back to make that other deposit?" Joe Barry cleared his throat. "No I'm sorry. I've got to draw out some money." "Certainly, certainly." Then the banker passed over a saving account withdrawal slip and made a remark about that most casual of things, the weather. After a time, Joe picked up the pen. His hand had stopped shaking. shak-ing. Then, almost before he realized It, he was out of the bank. Free, and money in his pocket. He had drawn only half of his deposit but It was enough. There would be no need to take the risk of going to the other bank ; all custodians of money might not be alike. lie had money in his pocket two hundred dollars. He could buy a ticket all the way across the continent with that and still have something to live on after he had made the Journey. Jour-ney. His brain was filled with the thought, of the clatter of trains, the rush and roar of miles slipping away beneath him. strange cities where one could lose onpself, ships at anchor, looking for eager, hardworking young men. More and more glorious became be-came the thought of the far away. Then It all was gone. For Joe Barry realized that he was standing still, half turned from the chipped sidewalk which led to the blackened railroad station. Before him was a wooden fence, and upon that fence, the rain-washed, tattered posters of a departed circus. Two days later, Joe Barry stood on the curbing of a down town business block in the quiet old town of Frederick, Fred-erick, Md.. his own troubles for the moment forgotten. From far down the street, there came the faint music of a band, rising through the steady overtones of its has- drum With this the crowded sidewalks forgot other things In an undulating bulge toward the curb, like the sweep of a wave. The music of the band became louder. Joe Barry edged forward. He had come here only after menial travail. In a few minutes now. the "grand, glittering and glorious pageant" of the Pnyton Brothers circus would pass him. and he would see little of it. save one person. And when that view bad boon gained, that one bit of worship wor-ship silently and surreptitiously given. Joe Barry would go on to far places, to ships thai sailed the seas. He felt he could nut do otherwise. He had fought it all out. that day he had seen the posiers. down hy the railroad station. Conditions had changed since, flushed with the lure ot a new life, Joe Barry had promised to come back to the Dayton Brothers circus just as soon as he could be released re-leased "from his other job." Now, he knew, there could be no release. His job was a Job of a life or death ; either it clung to him like a hated scourge, to haunt him throughout through-out the years, or it would send him to where men screamed and beat their rough shoes against the floor late at night when one of their number, his head shaved and his trouser legs slit to make way for the touch of clammy electrodes, went through a little door, never to come back. Joe Barry had been forced in the last few, year-like days, to face this situation with something some-thing of dull resignation; there was nothing else to do. But the complications complica-tions of his heart had not, in the turmoil, tur-moil, been reckoned with. The poster had brought them into sharp relief. Lonely, harassed, hungry for some one who would be kind to him, he had stood before those tattered tat-tered circus bills like a reverent person per-son before an altar. If he could only see her and hear her voice; if he could once more stand beside her, watching the slanting sun string its filmy gold through her soft hair, to have her talk to him, the tones of her as soft as a caress! The protective side of him had cried out against the thought, while the heart of him throbbed and pounded for her and demanded her, this one thing above all the world. So, at last, there had been a compromise. com-promise. Joe Barry was going away, forever; she must never see him again, because he no longer was the man she had met that day on the circus grounds. But he could see her, a fleeting glimpse, he could watch her approach him. and watch her pass; he could follow her as far as eyes could see, and then, when she passed from his vision he could say good-by to her, he could wdiisper so that no one but himself would know. If he could only see her again, he had told himself, the future might be easier. Perhaps she would be smiling when she passed him. That was why he now stood on the curbing in Frederick, thrilling strangely strange-ly to the approaching music of the circus band. Steam had appeared from far away, floating over the asphalt-colored hulks of heaving "I Felt Sure You'd Come Today!" Sue Dayton Said, and Leaned Far From Her Saddle to Clasp the Suddenly Cold Hand. forms; the elephants were in the distance dis-tance and behind them the calliope, denoting the end of the parade. Anxiety Anx-iety struck Joe Barry, that somehow he had missed her. Suddenly forgetful, forget-ful, he stepped into the street for a belter view, only to draw back wilh something of impatience as a marshal rode along the line of spectators to hold them to their places. Suddenly he gasped. A girl, trim in riding clothes, was smiling down at him, her hand extended. "1 felt sure you'd come today !" Sue Dayton said and leaned far from her saddle to clasp the suddenly cold hand he had raised to her. "I told Uncle Dan you'd he here today !" Then, with a swift movement, she had swung out of the saddle. Joe Barry dazedly knew thai he was laughing boyishly and telling some hastily conceived uniruth about a delay; de-lay; beyond that he forgot all except that he was talking to her. But the crowd was milling now. Sue Dayton swung her horse about quickly, as if to mount. "1 saw you from half down the block." she laughed. "Queer, wasn't it? You see, 1 never go in parade-except parade-except this way." She glanced along the line of march. "I've got to get on! Uncle Dan's not feeling well to day I've got to watch his section, too. You'll come back right after my act?" She caught her stirrup and swung to the saddle an turned to wave to him as the horse trotted on In the wake ot the parade. Joe Barry only , stood there, a lone figure now against the curbing. In that vague. tanglPd conversation in which Joe had asked and answered questions, he had made a promise. Yes. he had told her. he'd come back to her tent, right after she had finished her act in the sawdust ring! (TO BE CONTINUED.) |