Chapter 6 - Page 2

poetry--flesh pots. I'm hungry. I could eat a cow."

The girl pointed to an adjacent field. "Help yourself," she said.

"That happens to be a bull," said Bridge. "I was particular to mention cow, which, in this instance, is proverbially less dangerous than the male, and much better eating.

"'We kept a-rambling all the time. I rustled grub, he rustled rhyme--

"'Blind baggage, hoof it, ride or climb--we always put it through.' Who's going to rustle the grub?"

The girl looked at The Oskaloosa Kid. "You don't seem like a tramp at all, to talk to," she said; "but I suppose you are used to asking for food. I couldn't do it --I should die if I had to."

The Oskaloosa Kid looked uncomfortable. "So should--" he commenced, and then suddenly subsided. "Of course I'd just as soon," he said. "You two stay here--I'll be back in a minute."

They watched him as he walked down to the road and until he disappeared over the crest of the hill a short distance from the Squibbs' house.

"I like him," said the girl, turning toward Bridge.

"So do I," replied the man.

"There must be some good in him," she continued, "even if he is such a desperate character; but I know he's not The Oskaloosa Kid. Do you really suppose he robbed a house last night and then tried to kill that Dopey person?"

Bridge shook his head. "I don't know," he said; "but I am inclined to believe that he is more imaginative than criminal. He certainly shot up the Dopey person; but I doubt if he ever robbed a house."

While they waited, The Oskaloosa Kid trudged along the muddy road to the nearest farm house, which lay a full mile beyond the Squibbs' home. As he approached the door a lank, sallow man confronted him with a suspicious eye.

"Good morning," greeted The Oskaloosa Kid.

The man grunted.

"I want to get something to eat," explained the youth.

If the boy had hurled a dynamite bomb at him the result could have been no more surprising. The lank, sallow man went up into the air, figuratively. He went up a mile or more, and on the way down he reached his hand inside the kitchen door and brought it forth enveloping the barrel of a shot gun.

"Durn ye!" he cried. "I'll lam ye! Get offen here. I knows ye. Yer one o' that gang o' bums that come here last night, an' now you got the gall to come back beggin' for food, eh? I'll lam ye!" and he raised the gun to his shoulder.

The Oskaloosa Kid quailed but he held his ground. "I wasn't here last night," he cried, "and I'm not begging for food--I want to buy some. I've got plenty of money," in proof of which assertion he dug into a side pocket and brought forth a