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Show ....... ,----n CAGED III I By Ml Courtney Ryley Cooper ! (WNTJ Service.) , Copyright by Courtney Ryley Cooper .' CHAPTER IX Continued 21 Joe Barry brushed a haDd across suddenly weary eyes. There was nothing he could say. Nothing that he could explain, except to hide behind be-hind the mask of his Injury. At last he was alone, Uncle Dan gone and the fussy car' porter finally assured that there was nothing more he could do. Alone, where he could think But there was only one thought. This was the end. Fullhouse must know that there was a reward on his head. By now, he must be at the little town's police headquarters, telling tell-ing his story. The old hate began to boil in his brain, the hate which he had known in his cell at 240 Center street, in the Tombs, in the countless cages. Suddenly, he strove to rise; but the bolts of pain drove like lightning light-ning through his head ; dizzy, exhausted, ex-hausted, he dropped to his bunk again. When Joe awoke, it was dark, and the slow-moving train was rocking along its cradlelike Journey to a new town. He half rose, and stared up and down the aisle. But there were no watching men at the doors. No one, then, had come to the train to claim him. Either legal technicalities of which Joe knew nothing had offered of-fered a temporary bar, or more Important, Im-portant, Fullhouse had chosen not to remember I A swift picture came to him, of a scene in the homicide bureau, bu-reau, with Louie Bertolini standing smugly at one side, Fullhouse at the table, hands behind his flat hips, his narrow shoulders rounded, his flaccid, emotionless features turned toward Joe with the laconic question: "How did I know what you wanted him to look like?", For the first time, Joe Barry saw in that statement in the homicide bureau bu-reau a possibility of friendship. Full-house Full-house might have meant It when he had said : "How did I know what you wanted him to look like?" k few hours should tell now. Certainly Cer-tainly if the news had traveled, even If there had bem the necessity for confirmatory telegrams to New York, there would be an officer awaiting the arrival of the show train in the next town. An hour later, Joe Barry heard the grinding of brake shoes and stiffened stif-fened himself for the agony of waiting, wait-ing, minute upon minute. In that hour certain things had come to him, grim plans for the immediate future if the worst had happened, an equally desperate des-perate alternative, accomplished with less haste if there were a respite. In either event, he knew, his happiness, his hope, was gone. After b time he rose weakly and dressed. His head pounded with triphammer trip-hammer blows ; his surroundings floated float-ed at times. The parade was coming back to the lot when at last he reached the circus grounds. A flying figure leaped from her horse and ran to him ; Joe caught her hungrily. At last : "Sue, I've got to have a serious talk with you." "Of course, you have!" she pouted. Then with a laugh : "Goodness, Joe, our talk can wait." "I didn't mean today," the man said. "It isn't something that we can settle In a short time. Tonight, after the show." "Maybe," she said and patted his cheek. "Now, you do as I tell you. You go and rest until time to make up. That is, if you really Insist on going into the ring." Joe rested only a short time. Soon he was up and walking around again, in answer to the restlessness of him, the waiting, hour upon hour of agony; the agony of a gamble. But It was not a gamble; either way, Sue must soon or later know. The experience of yesterday had taught him the futility fu-tility of hope; today, or a year from now, or ten years, it would be the same, always the threat, always the danger, the restiveness, the gnawing fear that would never cease. Beyond all this was the knowledge that Sue Dayton loved him ; In that realization lay finality. As long as he could worship wor-ship her, with never a thought beyond that worship, as long as he could love her and never let her know, Just that long had his life possessed fullness, for no one could rob him of that. There had been a certain satisfaction in it, the feeling that she was his friend and that he loved her, loved her enough to seal his heart against ever committing the crime of telling her. But now that was done. He knew thai by loving her, he had hurt her. Today, roughly, from the lips of some one else, or tonight, from his own faltering ones, she must learn the truth, before he went away forever. Dully he turned his steps to the treasury treas-ury wagon. "I guess I'll draw out a little money," he said. Joe had allowed his wages to "ride the wagon," except for necessities. The treasurer counted out i hundred dollars In accordance with Joe' signed withdrawal slip. The matinee came, and the mockery of the act of the sawdust ring; for the first time, the beloved Iorio verged now and then Into the faintest of discords. dis-cords. Then the easy-chair again, the ministrations of Sue, the bluff sympathy sym-pathy of Uncle Dan and the waiting, the watching, the fear at the sight of every one who rounded the edge of the tent. But no one came who did not smile; at last It was night. Loading activities were on their way now. Joe stumbled into the dressing dress-ing tent and to the duties of making up, long ahead of time. At last, attired at-tired for the ring, he stepped forth. Slowly he moved forward, half blind from the pain of his aching head, picking his way He halted ! His hands raised, clutchingly at his side. From over there in the darkness, some one was calling, half voice, half whisper: "Joel Joe Barry!" A dim form showed vaguely at the shadowy side of a bulky wagon. Once more the voice: "Joe! Duck In here quick, before some one sees you !" The man in clown-white sagged, straightening from sheer force of will. He swerved into the darkness and stumbled forward. "Hello, Fullhouse," he said at last. CHAPTER X Fullhouse did not answer in words. He only caught the man by the arm and led him farther into the shadows. "Listen, keed," he asked at last. "You know why I followed this show on here, don't you?" Joe shook his head. "I've been waiting for something to happen all day. I thought you'd set the police on me." "Who, me? Me tip the bullls? Have a heart. Anyway," said Fullhouse, "they don't need no' tippin'." "Then they're already on my trail?" "Do you think I'd be here If they wasn't? Listen, keed," Fullhouse grasped his arm again. "You ain't goin' to stick here and let 'em slough you? Where's your bean? They'll crank the Stingin' Lizzie If they connect con-nect with you." Joe Barry's head rolled. "Yon said the police knew. How did you find out?" "They come to Louie's." "When?" "Night before last." "Then why haven't they arrested me?" "How do I know?" Fullhouse asked somewhat testily. "Don't ask me why they ain't here. I just know what I know. I thought enough of you to try to tip you. You never done nothin' to me, did you?" "No." "I've always felt I done you a dirty rap at that bureau. Why didn't you tip a guy? I didn't know what you wanted that bozo to look like." Joe rubbed his dry lips. "That's over anyway, Fullhouse," he said at last "You were telling me they came to Louie's." "Yeh, about eleven o'clock night before be-fore last; Chuven and Maxwell. I was gettin' ready to blow; me'n Louie'd just settled up. That's phooey, you know ; I'm out. I quit Louie. They walked In just as I was walkin' out I'd just told Louie what I thought of him. I don't have to work for no guy ; I can get all the Jobs I want without workin' for no slave driver. I worked for one guy four years ; take you right to his joint Guy named Jamison, he's a big shot in the oil business; take me back any time I want to work for him. But I don't need to work for nobody. I got a racket of my own. "The way I figured, Chuven and Maxwell don't miss many bets. They usually get what they're after. So when they blow into Louie's on your trail, I stalled around. Then I thinks to myself, why shouldn't I blow out and see if you was what they said you was. So out I come. I got my own bus," said Fullhouse proudly. "I go where I please." "What did they say when they came to Louie's?" N "Well, first they blow In and begin to stall around. I see they're on the make the minute they bulge the joint So I sticks. Finally Pete asks about the radio." The word shot a chill through Joe. This was confirmation. (TO BE CONTINUED.) |