The Other Fellow

o the sprawling wooden steps, and kicked ope

won't kick, I know. You git in; I'll go for the mail." The pro

ver out into the cold night. The only light visible came from a smoky kerosene lamp boxed in at

her face. She was about ten years of age, and wore a cheap woolen hood tied close to her face, and a red shawl crossed over her chest and knotted behind her back. Her hair was y

ith an oval face ending in a pointed Vandyke beard; piercing brown eyes, finely chiseled nose, and a well-modeled mouth over which drooped a blond mustache. He was dressed in a dark blue flannel shirt, with loose sailor collar tied with a red 'kerchief, and a black, stiff-brimmed ar

young fellows to fall back upon. Then my eyes rested with pleasure on the pointed beard, the peculiar curve of the hat-brim, the slender waist corrugating the soft fur of the deerskin waistcoat, and the peculiar set of his trousers and boots-like those of an Austrian on parade. And how picturesqu

errupted my meditations. It was the mail-bag. The n

was goin' 'long far as Bingville.

nan, Davy Crockett, and Daniel Boone! Could this lithe

k Sands?" I

en I'm out of jail. When I'm in I

my time-honored views on solitary confinement, and that it had disposed him to be more or less frank toward me. If he expected, however, any further outburst of sympathy from me he was disappoint

t still closer, holding on to the man's arm, steady

spite my implied boasting to the driver, I had never, to my knowledge, met one before. Then, again, I had

your litt

lm voice. "This is Ben Mulford's girl; she lives next to me

ce for a while, wondering what I would say next. I felt that to a certain extent I was t

ells me your

e isn't what she was-I being away from her so much lately. I got two t

ining each detail,-my derby hat, white tie, fur overcoat

e?" He had no suspicion that I

was under discussion, to which he had fallen a victim while I had escaped. As he spoke his fingers tightened over the ch

she any relation?" I asked, forgetting that

down upon the deerskin waistcoat, close into the fur, with infinite tenderness. The child reached up her s

med hat that I only knew they were fixed on me when some sudden tilt of the stage threw the light full on his face. I tried offering him a cigar,

ossing near the college gate

led shoes would not scrape my coat. In the action I saw that his leg

better," I said. "Good-nig

a strain of sadness that I had not caught before. T

wing with my eyes the stage on its way to the station. The child was on her knees, looking at

g fellow, with his pointed beard and picturesque deerskin waistcoat,

ired professor, with bulging eyes and watch-crystal spectacles, if he knew of a man by the name of Sands who had lived in Hell's Diggings with his mother, and who had served two t

advise you to be very careful in returning. The rogue will probably be lying in wait to rob you of you

him," I said; "he

hom all moral sense is lacking. I have begun making some exhaustive investigations of the data obtainable on this subject, whi

, cutting short, as I could see, an extract from the re

no, sir; not

swered. "I thought I had, b