PS 3500 
 .PI 06 
 Copy 1 
 
 
 THE 
 
 ORACLE 
 
 OF 
 
 THE 
 
 SECRET 
 
 REVEALED 
 
 
 PRICE 
 
 (News Item.) 
 
 SECRET 
 
 Carried To Grave 
 
 When "Mystery Man" of 
 Shantytown Passes. 
 
 Classics Quoted Over 
 His "Monkey Stove" 
 
 BroMglit Reputation of 
 Seer To Armstrong. 
 
 Identity Is Hidden for 25 
 Years On West End 
 Dump By Sciiolariy 
 Recluse 
 
 BY AN 
 
 INTIMATE 
 
 FRIEND 
 
 
 ^i SHANTYTOWN i 
 
 
 
 35 CENTS 
 
C1A615G77 
 
 «*v,,., 
 
-ft-3^ 
 
 0^ 
 
 .THE. 
 
 Oracle of Shantytown. 
 
 Copyright 1921 by Advance Feature Service- 
 
 A heavy cloud of dust and smoke hung 
 over the dump; the fumes of burning refuse 
 commingling with the fine particles of earth 
 stirred up by the rumbling city dirt carts, as 
 if the}^ would conceal from the eye of the 
 passerby, the unsightly dumping ground set 
 aside for the waste and refuse gathered 
 from the highways and byways of the city. 
 Down upon the almost impenetrable pall 
 beat the relentless rays of the July sun, until 
 the heat seemed to be rising in waves to keep 
 the clouds of dust and smoke in constant 
 commotion. 
 
 It was a forbidding place, to be shunned 
 and avoided by all but the few employes of 
 the street cleaning service, compelled to visit 
 it with their carts laden with refuse to be 
 cast away out of sight and out of reach of 
 the daily round of city life. 
 
Still in that welter of heat, dust, dirt, 
 smoke and pestilential odor from early in 
 the morning until late in the afternoon, a 
 small army of decrepit old men and women 
 cmd ragged children searched the piles of 
 rubbish for bits of paper, old rags, frag- 
 ments of broken dishes and bits of wood 
 and worn out furniture; anything of value 
 that might be sold to the rag man, or utilized 
 to help furnish their humble shacks in Shan- 
 tj^town; a strange jumble of hovels built up 
 of weather-beaten boards, bricks and rusty 
 old tin at the edge of the dumping ground. 
 
 Laboriously the denizens of Shanty town 
 toiled to sustain a meager subsistence from 
 I lie wastes of the dump. Even as the pall of 
 smoke and dust hung over the forbidding 
 place a cloud hung over their dreary exist- 
 ence, casting dark shadows into their 
 wretched d^YelIings — "01' Tom" was dead. 
 
 To the outside world the passing of "OF 
 Tom." meant but little more than the disap- 
 pearance of a human derelict, of the kind 
 often caught in the backwaters of life and 
 eddied about on its uncertain currents for 
 a brief period before sinking out of sight in- 
 to a never-ending oblivion. 
 
 To the poverty-ridden residents of Shanty- 
 town, the death of "OF Tom" brought a 
 closely personal bereavement, deep and sin- 
 cere. He had been their counsellor, their 
 leader, their best friend. 
 
 Quietly he had slipped into their little 
 
 MAY 1 1 1S2I 2 
 
comiiiurxily from the outside world. Why? 
 No one knew. From w^hence he came, no 
 one could tell. In Shanty town they never 
 ask questions as to the antecedents of a new- 
 comer. It is the retreat of those who have 
 turned their backs on the past, that it might 
 pass into the realms of things forgotten. 
 
 Further back than any of the members of 
 the ever shifting colony could recall from 
 its annals, ''OF Tom" by virtue of an ability 
 and knowledge superior to that of his fellow 
 townsmen in Shantytown, had been regard- 
 ed as the head man of the place. 
 
 The officials of the city and its laws and 
 ordinances were to them things entirely 
 beyond their horizon, and the affairs of a 
 world entirely different from their own. "OF 
 Tom" was their ruler and law giver by the 
 right of natural selection. 
 
 Fate plays strange tricks with the denizens 
 of Shant3'town, just as it does with people 
 of the "outside world," who do not know 
 Shantytown. During his last illness a few 
 daj^s before his death, an ambulance called 
 at the humble shack of the "Oracle of Shan- 
 tytown," as he was known to those who 
 sought his counsel and the patrolmen who 
 called at the village now and then; remov- 
 ing him to a comfortable ward of a hospital. 
 That the good Samaritan who provided for 
 "OF Tom" in his illness also provided decent 
 burial for his remains, became known to 
 the people of Shantytown from remnants 
 
of newspapers rescued from refuse on the 
 dump. That "OF Tom" had been provided 
 for and his remains given a decent burial 
 was to them a source of consolation. 
 
 The identit^^ of the good Samaritan who 
 cared for him was a mystery thej^ could not 
 fathom, but then, the faculty of forgetting 
 is highly developed among those who live in 
 Shantytown, and the memory of "01' Tom'' 
 quickly passed from minds occupied with 
 the struggle for necessities culled from the 
 refuse of a more orderly and prosperous life. 
 
 My profession as a reporter and writer for 
 many years, naturally brought me into con- 
 tact with the denizens of many out-of-way 
 places; people as varied in their traits, char- 
 acter and mode of living, as the minerals of 
 the Earth vary in their usefulness. 
 
 Among them was Tom Armstrong, the 
 "Oracle of Shantytown." I learned of his ill- 
 ness and death from reading the stories 
 written by fellow reporters and published in 
 the papers the da^^ following his demise. I 
 knew of him as a strange character with "a 
 past," who chose to pass his latter days 
 among people far below his standard as re- 
 gards mental attainments. That he liad had 
 
advantages of a superior education was evi- 
 ('ent by the ease and fluency with whicli he 
 (discussed current events and the rich fund 
 of i^eneral information lie seemed to have 
 at his command. 
 
 The spirit of curiosity, which had often 
 P'rompted me to speculate as to his identity 
 and history, was revived by reading the re- 
 cital of his passing, but as there seemed very 
 little likelihood that my curiosity could ever 
 be satisfied in this respect, I dismissed the 
 ])roblem from my mind with the mental ob- 
 servation: "The secret was buried in the 
 grave with its owner." 
 
 Boarding a train in the mid- west for a 
 journey Eastward, I carried a parcel — just 
 reclaimed from a cobbler. It was wrapped 
 in a wrinkly old newspaper. While reach- 
 ing up with this package to the bundle-rack 
 overhead, it slipped from my hand, falling 
 with a thump into the open magazine of a 
 tall, gray-eyed gentleman in the adjacent 
 seat, knocking the periodical he was in- 
 terestedly perusing from his grasp. 
 
 The stranger, inclined to corpulency, gave 
 evidence of a genial disposition, combined 
 with a virile personality and fairly radiated 
 the spirit of success. 
 
 Quickly he had recovered my shoes and 
 quietly chuckling at my embarrassment, he 
 
extended the parcel toward me, but with- 
 drew it siiddenW to scan a heading in the 
 paper w^hich caught liis attention. 
 
 "That," he murmured with a tremor in 
 his voice and gravely pointing to the paper, 
 his color ebbing a little, "that, is the cause 
 of my journey.' 
 
 With eager interest I scanned the bold 
 conventional heading which read: 
 
 "Secret Carried To The Grave — - 
 When 'Mystery Man' of Shantytown 
 Passes. Classics Quoted Over His 
 'Monkey Stove' Brought Reputation of 
 Seer to Armstrong. Identit^^ is Hidden 
 For 25 Years on West End Dump by 
 Scholarly Recluse." 
 
 Unwrapping the package he became deep- 
 ly absorbed in the more than column long 
 article, reading it to the end — that is, as 
 much of it as creases and soiled spots per- 
 mitted — w4iile I grew keenly curious as to 
 the relationship which might exist between 
 the "Mystery Man," and my new4y found 
 traveling companion. 
 
 Finishing the article and folding the 
 crumpled paper, the stranger lapsed into 
 quiet contemplation, his reverie after a time 
 being interrupted by my question: 
 
 "You knew the 'Mystery Man'?" 
 
 "I did," he responded briefl}^ wdth a sad 
 smile, then relapsed into silence. 
 
 6 
 
As a newspaper man I ventured the sec- 
 ond time, sajdng: 
 
 "I knew of him and often wondered about 
 his history and identity, but was never able 
 to penetrate his secret." 
 
 "There is an old adage that goes some- 
 thing like this," he observed: "'Bread cast 
 upon the waters shall return again to feed 
 the giver.' It has been my privilege in a 
 small way to repay an old debt." 
 
 Our long journey gave us ample time and 
 opportunity to discuss the subject at length. 
 Realizing that I was interested in the par- 
 ticulars of the recluse, he suggested that we 
 repair to the smoking compartment where 
 we enjoyed our cigars, while he told me the 
 following remarkable story of his own 
 career, in which the "Mystery Man" played 
 no inconsiderable part. 
 
THE STRANGER^S STORY 
 
 "That all the luckj^ numbers had not been 
 drawn from the wheel of destiny before I 
 was born — lift^^-fonr years ago — albeit that 
 all the blanks had not been exhausted either, 
 I shall endeavor to prove by my experiences 
 as thej^ happened in the course of several 
 decades of my more or less nomadic career. 
 
 At an early age I found myself in the sec- 
 tion known to the Department of Agricul- 
 ture as the Mississippi Valley; domiciled wdth 
 my father and a tyrannical step-mother in 
 a three-room shabb}^ log hut, over a mile 
 distant from tlie nearest neighbor, and a 
 half day's journey from a paltry hamlet 
 kno\vn by the bedight misnomer of "Dash 
 City." It boasted of a post-office immured 
 in a general store atmosphere, a tavern, the 
 inevitable smithy and several dw^ellings. The 
 wagon track leading by our homestead was 
 seldom burdened with trafBc and a visit 
 from a neighbor or stranger at our heath 
 was an event rarely enjoyed. 
 
 At my age of ten, father departed this life, 
 leaving me alone with my irascible tem- 
 pered step-mother, who long before had de- 
 veloped against me an unnatural antipathy 
 amounting almost to a passion; she, chas- 
 tising me on the slightest provocation. The 
 
 8 
 
parents having labored incessantly to bring 
 the wild prairie land to a profitable produc- 
 ing standard, I mostly had been left by my- 
 self engaged at such tasks as were assigned 
 me, leaving me entirely bereft of any educa- 
 tional opportunities. 
 
 When I was of the age of fourteen our 
 unhappy family w^as augmented by mother's 
 iiewdy widowed sister, fat, fortj^ and fatu- 
 ous, accompanied by her blue-eyed, flaxon- 
 haired winsome daughter, Ada — she being 
 slightly my junior in point of years. We 
 took to each other naturally. Having stored 
 cruite a bit of serviceable knowledge in a 
 capable head, and being direct bj^ nature, she 
 lost no time in apprising me of her utter 
 astonishment at my deplorable ignorance 
 and lack of schooling and then she set about 
 wdth persistent energy to instruct me in the 
 rudiments of education. 
 
 It was Ada who opened my eyes to the 
 fact that the w^orld extended thousands of 
 miles beyond Dash City; that millions of 
 people existed engaged in other pursuits 
 than agriculture; that there were schools 
 and churches, mountains and valleys, cities 
 and parks, oceans and rivers, railroads and 
 steamships and oodles of other commodities 
 for the enjoyment, the use and abuse of the 
 human race. 
 
 She could sing. Never had I known that 
 the human voice was adapted to any other 
 use than mere speaking and shouting. 
 
 9 
 
Through her persistent efforts I learned to 
 write my name and to read, staggeringly. 
 Inadvertanth^ she also implanted the urge 
 for adventure in my young noddle. To ily 
 from my sordid surroundings, io see, to 
 gain experience, was the one, the fondest 
 ambition I cherished as I grew older. 
 
 Returning from a neighbor one day where 
 I had been sent in quest of a utensil not then 
 available, my step-mother became infuriated 
 and beat me so unmercifully ^^dth a stick of 
 cordwood, that I was constrained to herd 
 mj^ bed for an entire week. 
 
 I was now eighteen and the flogging to- 
 gether with its indignity, to say nothing of 
 its injustice, rooted the desire for revenge 
 deep in my heart. Through Ada's soothing 
 ministrations and cheerful counsel I became 
 reconciled for a time, but as the old lady's 
 daily bickerings continued, I concluded that: 
 ^'Distance lends enchantment." Unlike the 
 phrase in the legend of the Arabs: I did not 
 ''Fold my tents" — I had none to fold; but 
 with the second portion of it, I complied to 
 the letter: "I "Silently stole away." 
 
 Poor Ada! The very thought of my dear 
 preceptress and faithful companion to be 
 left with and at the merc^^ of a plebeian, 
 hair-brained barbarian of an aunt — same be- 
 ing my step-mother — was most distressful; 
 then again I opined, that my departure 
 might become an incentive to spur her indo- 
 
 10 
 
lent, gabby mother to tasks more productive 
 than her vain efforts at crocheting. 
 
 A week later found me in a small town 
 operating a dirt cart at a cellar excavation, 
 ("riving a team of mules, from which posi- 
 tion I graduated into the livery business as 
 a stable hand. 
 
 One Spring morning I set out with a team 
 to a distant city for tlie purpose of convey- 
 ing a fellow townsman — who was arriving 
 l>y train — back to our village. Arriving 
 hours ahead of train-time, I indulged in an 
 excursion through the city's principle streets, 
 then hitched my team near the depot. 
 
 An elaborately decorated car on a side- 
 track tempted my curiosity to a close-up in- 
 vestigation, when presently I stood awe in- 
 spired ^yith mouth agape, admiring the fero- 
 cious wdld animals depicted in gay colors on 
 its glossy side. A man in paste-bespattered 
 overalls and freakish straw hat was empty- 
 ing sacks of flour into large galvanized cans. 
 Leering at me while he stirred the flour he 
 addressed me as "kid," wanting to know "If 
 I was gon'na see the circus?" 
 
 "Yaas, I reckoned," wondering where the 
 circus was and what it could be hke, the 
 word never having entered into my limited 
 vocabulary before that very minute. What 
 the billposter wanted was someone to fetch 
 water for his paste fabricating process, 
 
 11 
 
which I thought was food for the animals* 
 that I presumed were inside the car. A 
 j^cial conference sprang up between myself 
 and "funny-hat" in which lie told me that 
 a position of porter for the car, with an 
 emolument of twenty dollars per month plus 
 eats, was awaiting a claimant. In spite of 
 my denseness I saw my opportunit}^ at a 
 glance. 
 
 To travel, to learn, to cast aside my crass 
 ignorance, even a possibility of gaining 
 proficiency in some branch of endeavor 
 flashed through my mind. The upshot was 
 that he led me into the car and introduced 
 me to the agent — car manager — who sub- 
 jected me to a brief examination, after which 
 he filled out a contract which he generously 
 read aloud. Having? my a^e down at twentv- 
 one I mildly protested; but when he ex- 
 plained that a contract with a minor is void, 
 and with determination thundered that I 
 was twenty-one, I took it for granted — he 
 being older than I — that he knew whereof 
 he spoke. So during that brief transaction 
 I aged almost three vears. 
 
 Meeting my passenger I informed him 
 that I had quit ni}^ job, he agreed with little 
 comment, to drive the team home alone. 
 To allay any suspicions he might harbor as 
 to my intentions, I rode well into town with 
 him, then hastened back to the depot bliss- 
 full}^ considering the new career I was about 
 to enter. 
 
 12 
 
The car was divided into three compart- 
 ments. One reservation had lockers on both 
 sides for the purpose of storing advertising 
 matter, above which Piihman ^berths were 
 arniiged for the sleeping accommodation 
 of tvventy persons. Next came a well- 
 appointed modern office occupied by the 
 Agent; then a small compartment with an 
 upright boiler used in making paste. Under- 
 neath there was a cellar for storing paste 
 cans, brushes, buckets, etc. The entire ar- 
 rangement betokened order and cleanhness. 
 It required but a week's time to put me 
 wise to the fact that to endure the jeering 
 cachmnations of twentv husky billers, min- 
 istering to a sixty-eight foot car, making 
 paste, loading new suppKes, slaving from 
 early dawn to summer's dusk, taking^ orders 
 from everyone, wasn't such an all-fired im- 
 provement on my previous occupations after 
 all — a deliberation which fostered an intense 
 desire to desert. To go back to Ada and that 
 loathsome step-mother of mine would be a 
 rehef; but lashed by fear of prosecution for 
 breach of contract, I sullenly subjected my- 
 self to the inevitable. 
 
 Being gifted with an observing and in- 
 quisitive mind my vocabulary grew apace. 
 I learned through courtesy of the crew that 
 I was—chump, gink, guy, geezer, flunky, 
 taker, hick, hayseed, pinhead and damphool, 
 all rolled into one. For variation— being tall 
 and skinny — I was tauntingly referred to as 
 
 13 
 
^Vamrod'' or, "that dressed-up tapeworm." 
 appellations that made me writhe, but al- 
 ways bearing in mind the axiom Ada had 
 freqiientl}^ quoted, that: "Silence is a \drtue 
 in those who are deficient in understand- 
 ing," I endured their contumelious taunts 
 with tolerant resignation. 
 
 Everj^body was a "gu^^" or a "faker" and 
 every commodity a "fake." Someone wish- 
 ing a lamp lit in the car, would vociferate: 
 "Why don't Vvon'na you'se guys fake the 
 fake?" indicating the lamp with the large 
 reflector above. 
 
 "Hi!" responds a co-worker searching for 
 a match, "some guy lend me a fake till I 
 fake the business on the gainsfake." 
 
 Their slang terms were not without merit, 
 retaining sufficient value to cover my lim- 
 ited vocabulary by designating any unfamil- 
 iar object as "that fake" — and getting by 
 with it. 
 
 The uncouth and lumbering manner in 
 which I performed my sundry tasks attract- 
 ed the attention of a blithe-tempered bill- 
 poster named Wally Moss. He was the bell- 
 weather of the party; a tall, sinewy athletic 
 young chap, who between seasons served as 
 an instructor to voung comers in the fistic 
 arena; which aside from his amicable dis- 
 position ma^^ have been the source of his 
 popularity with the personnel. 
 
 Through his guidance I learned to plan 
 i\y \\qt\- to advantage, thereby reducing 
 
 14 
 
drudgery to an ordinary degree of occupa- 
 tion. As gradually ail on board became 
 more friendly disposed, I began to view my 
 plight in a decidedly different aspect, with 
 a desire for ultimate promotion. To mingle 
 with the seasoned troopers and listen to their 
 droll anecdotes of personal experiences in 
 most every state in the Union, was perlect- 
 iy enthralling, and before the season closed 
 1 had registered a vow never to cease my 
 migratory career until I had visited every 
 state in this grand and broad Domain of 
 ours. 
 
 After the close of the season I went with 
 Wally Moss to a mid- Western city where he 
 promptly placed me with a friend of his in 
 the livery business, he devoting his time to 
 the gymnasium as instructor of boxing. 
 
 In my new position I came under the 
 supervision of one Dave Ellis, with whom 
 I shared lodgings in a large harness-room. 
 Dave was of medium heighth, sallow- 
 skinned, had sharp gray eyes with a well 
 shaped aquiline nose, was firm-lipped 
 and wore a short brown beard. His ad- 
 dress betokened intelligence and character. 
 He was deliberate and slow spoken with an 
 independent air. He spoke the language 
 of the people either common or high-brow, 
 according to whom he was addressing' or 
 
 15 
 
being addressed by — but never too faniiiiar. 
 He was versed in many branches of intelli- 
 gence and spent most of his leisure hoiir^ 
 in the harness-room garnering knowledge 
 from high-class library literature. 
 
 Our livery boarders were mostly the 
 property of well-to-do folks who drove out 
 but seldom during the winter months. The 
 proprietor being an old sport who left all 
 the details to Dave, gave us a fair amount 
 of leisure, which Dave promptly trans- 
 formed into a plan of exercises advanta- 
 geous to my deficient education — thanks to 
 the foresight of Wally Moss. Dave ar- 
 ranged our work so as to be within speak- 
 ing distance most of the time, during which 
 he would contrive to inculcate me with 
 wholesome mental exercises; which he 
 usually punctuated with abrupt interroc^i- 
 tions. Orthography, reading and compu- 
 tation were taken up as time afforded. 
 
 He proved v/ithout exception the most 
 erudite person I ever met before or since. 
 Chapter by chapter he could recite or 
 quote from masters of the pen by the 
 hour. He availed himself of an Academic 
 dictionary in which he had attained such 
 proficiency, that he could give the definition, 
 as well as the exact location of hundreds 
 of words. In numerous instances when 
 I asked the meaning of a word' he gave the 
 definition, together with its synonyms from 
 memorv; then referred me to the number 
 
 16 
 
of the page, the column — first or second — 
 and its exact numerical location in the 
 column. 
 
 On an occasion of mental arithmatic, he 
 bluntly propounded the question: 
 
 "Six sheep, a shepherd and his dog, how 
 many feet?" 
 
 Considering myself out of the primary' 
 class I laughed scofhngl3% then answered, 
 "thirty." 
 
 "The shepherd in question has two feet," 
 he smiled, "now turn to the Academic, 
 page 411, second column, fifth word; also 
 page 596- first column, ninth word." In- 
 vestigation revealed that sheep have trot- 
 ters; the dog has paws. 
 
 When he gave the wrong steer — which 
 I ultimately discovered he did with malice 
 aforethought — and I came back at him 
 with a: "Well, I got 'cha this time," chesty 
 aspect, he would cut me short, assume an 
 apologetic mien and assert: 
 
 "Oh, yes, my error! the seventh word 
 on page 290 second column, is- incrassa- 
 
 tion. I should have referred you to " 
 
 giving the details. 
 
 As mathematician he approached per- 
 fection. Not only was he conversant with, 
 but employed every device known to the 
 so-called lightning calculators. An ex- 
 periment I frequently enjoyed' was to 
 write twenty-five or thirty digits on a black- 
 board — four or five wide and five or more 
 
 17 
 
in depth — unseen by him. Within a dozen 
 rapid strides towards the board, lie ^vould 
 add the sum total; write the footing from 
 left to right with marvelous speed, then 
 place the results of his diagonal additions — 
 from left and right bottom to top^ — above 
 the first and the last digits as an added 
 flourish. Then together we would add the 
 columns figure by figure to prove the re- 
 sults. 
 
 A favorite pastime of his was to coin 
 words from s^^nonyms. Once reading an 
 article to him in which the word sinister 
 repeatedly occured I stopped to inquire its 
 definition. After a busy minute with his 
 pencil he handed me a sheet of paper on 
 which he had printed perpendicularly the 
 word weddicub. '*Here is the key w^liich 
 will help you to memorize the meaning 
 of the word,'* he said. 
 
 Each perpendicular initial was fol- 
 lowed by horizontal letters reading succes- 
 sively from top to bottom: "wrong, evil, 
 dishonest, disasterous, injurious, corrupt, 
 unlucky, bad.*' 
 
 Never have I forgotten the word weddi- 
 cub- nor its kind, painstaking and patient 
 author, whose delightful guidance shall 
 ever be a tablet deeply impressed on my 
 memory and in retrospect I cry out with 
 Horace: 
 
 "With equal foot, rich friend, impartial 
 Fate, 
 
 18 
 
Knocks at the cottage and the palace 
 gate." 
 
 After a winter's sojourn at my livery 
 stable Alma Mater, I joined Wally Moss 
 in another whirl at seeing the country, 
 being promoted to programmer — distribu- 
 ting advertising matter from house to 
 house throughout the towns in which the 
 show exhibited. After working one hun- 
 dred and sixty-seven assorted towns that 
 season, I could readily subscribe to Dave 
 Ellis' observation: "Traveling conquers 
 prejudice, broadens the mind and is an 
 education books can never teach." Which 
 I would extend by adding: especially when 
 under orders to work the business, the resi- 
 dence, the factory and the slum districts. 
 
 One comes in contact with the queens 
 and the drones, the educated and the ig- 
 norant, the industrious and the slothful; 
 the timid and the tough. Programming 
 is a fine occupation for a student 
 of human nature, especially if he knows 
 how to take care of himself; for occasions 
 arise when a left hook to the jaw^ of some 
 hoodlum w^ho is just dying to lick some 
 circus guy, comes in mighty handy. 
 
 I spent another winter with Dave Ellis 
 to good advantage, joining out again in the 
 spring. 
 
 One Sunday during the summer I joy- 
 fully journeyed nearly a hundred miles, 
 for the express purpose of indulging in a 
 
 19 
 
few hours of social intercourse with liiy 
 dear friend Dave. The visionary picture 
 of a gladsome surprise I had painted of our 
 meeting, was rudely wiped out with one 
 stroke of dissapointment, when I learned 
 from my old boss — the liveryman — that 
 Dave' had left some time since, liis where- 
 abouts being entirely unknown. 
 
 Dave's departure followed an unsual in- 
 cident. 
 
 A stranger leaving his team with him 
 one night, engaged in a spirited argument 
 claiming to have casually known hiin as 
 the erstwhile pastor of a Vvcalthy . congre- 
 gation in Southern Ohio. 
 
 Dave stoutly denied the intimation claim- 
 ing it to be a case of mistaken identity. The 
 stranger asserted he could prove his ari- 
 gations by his wife, who had been intimaic 
 ly accfuainted with him during his clerical 
 career, upon which the redoubtable Dave 
 boldlv challenged him to bring his evidence 
 and he did so the following day, but — there 
 Was no Dave. 
 
 The lady vouchsafed to the liveryman 
 that Dave had been an ordained clergyman 
 having served at her church for some 
 time; was greatly beloved and highly re- 
 spected by the congregation, but had be- 
 come involved in a controversy^ with his 
 bishop regarding some orthodox doctrine 
 of the church, which ultimately led to his 
 
 20 
 
exoomnvuni cation for heresy, after which 
 all trace of him had been lost. 
 
 I felt bereft. Whether or not he had 
 been a divine and fallen from grace, mere- 
 ly because he harbored a few opinions 
 contrary to the tenets of his religion, modi- 
 fied my fidelity towards him not one jot; 
 the fact remaining that he had manifested 
 a material interest in my welfare, been a 
 friend, benefactor and companion with rare 
 intelligence; whose indulgent guidance had 
 improved me in mind, morals and charac- 
 ter, being a matter for everlasting gratitude 
 with me. 
 
 When Waliy heard the news he also was 
 keenly depressed. With mingled emotions 
 we descanted our mutual friend's sterling 
 qualities into the late hours, fearful that 
 never again would our eyes feast on the 
 genial countenance of Dave Ellis. 
 
 1^ ^ ^ :^ 
 
 Long since had I dipped my fingers in 
 both tile Atlantic and the Pacific, the Lakes 
 of the North and the Gulf to the South, 
 when late summer once again found me 
 bnck in the State of my nativity. 
 
 Being detailed one morning to cover a 
 railroad route — I was a full fledged bill 
 poster now — I blithly set out over a compar- 
 <i lively newh^-built railway, arriving at a 
 small town called Drexton, before the 
 
 21 
 
noon hour. Drexton was what we termed 
 a typical 'jay burgh,' boasting of a grain 
 elevator, flour mill, farm implement and 
 general store, together with divers minor 
 industries. 
 
 After billing the town in approved fash- 
 ion I hied myself back to the station, when 
 I noticed at a short distance a long corn 
 crib by the roadside. With the objective 
 to cover it with posters, I started in its di- 
 rection looking for the owner whose per- 
 mission I sought. Which being granted, I 
 set to work. All the while I saw the lum- 
 bering approach of an old-fashioned prairie 
 schooner. Being more interested in my 
 work than I was in the schooner, I paid 
 no particular attention, until it was square- 
 ly behind my back when I heard a voice 
 calling: 
 
 "Can you please tell me what town this 
 is?" 
 
 Turning to see the owner of the voice I 
 dropped my pastebrush and stood rooted 
 to the ground. WitTi a bound the driver 
 hit the gravel and was approaching. 
 
 "Hell's kenoodleberries!" I yelled, "Dave 
 Ellis!" 
 
 "The right church but the wrong pew," 
 was his comeback, mouth expanded into 
 a happy grin, as we began pumping hands 
 with ostentatious heartiness, "you are ad- 
 dressing," he said, mth mock arrogance, 
 "Mr. Thomas Daley." 
 
 22 
 
*'Well' Tommy, a rose by another name- 
 got anj^ money?" I blurted too excited to 
 know just what I was saying. 
 
 "I can stalce you to a twenty," diving into 
 his pocket. 
 
 "No! No!" I bawled, "its me that wants 
 to do the staking.*' 
 
 "Never mind," he retorted with a hearty 
 chuckle, "I'm comfortable, thank you." 
 
 "I'll be through here in a jifTy," I said 
 hurriedly grabing up my pastebrush, "then 
 we'll have an old-time gabfest," — having al- 
 ready made up mj^ mind to miss my train, 
 
 "I have both the time and the inclina- 
 tion," he said still grinning, then led his 
 roan plugs oft* the road to a tree where 
 he put them to graze. 
 
 In the conversation which followed he 
 explained how and why he left the livery 
 barn, but neither denied nor affirmed his 
 ever having been a cleric. His possession 
 of the "schooner" he said came by the way 
 of meeting up with a prospector named 
 Jack Pruden, who had induced him to join 
 on a west-bound trip merely for compan- 
 ionship. In Indian Territory, Jack con- 
 tracted the milkfever and died, making 
 "Thomas Daley" heir to the team, its ap- 
 purtenances and a small bank roll, his 
 story being evidenced by papers in his pos- 
 session duly signed and witnessed. He 
 was driftinfif East without particular ob- 
 jective, buying commodities by the wayside 
 
 23 
 
and disposing of them at a profit in towns 
 along his route. 
 
 Leaving his team to their free lunch we 
 sauntered back into the town and into the 
 "Dewdrop Inn," for the purpose of investi- 
 gating a few "schooners" not of the 
 prairie variet3^ 
 
 Incredulous as it might seem it never en- 
 tered my noddle — of which a phrenologist 
 once said "had a wonderfully developed 
 bump of locality" which on that day must 
 have been a dent — in the remotest degree, 
 thnt I was merelv a few home-run \vU 
 away from my childhood's native heath, 
 until an old codger entered and was ad- 
 dresssed by the bartender as Mr. Shillaby, 
 whom I at once recognized as a former 
 old neighbor of ours. Adopting the most 
 approved method then in vogue in convi- 
 vial circles, I ordered a round of drinks — 
 for the eight or ten present — which system 
 was commonly recognized as an initiation 
 fee with floor privileges, of the meeting 
 then in session. 
 
 Asking Mr. Shillaby how long since he 
 had migrated to this new settlement, he 
 stared at me speechless for the better part 
 of a minute, then explained he hadn't been 
 out of the neighborhood for nigh onto 
 twent^^ years. This put me to thinking. By 
 and by I began to realize for a certainty 
 that I was practically right at home — then 
 things began to happen! 
 
 24 
 
Shillaby proved willing- even anxious to 
 submit to an interview, same being adroitly 
 drawn to matters concerning my personal 
 interests. After answering a dozen or two 
 rf mv queries, lie launched into a most in- 
 teresting monologue, in which he depicted 
 the sad tale of a mild-tempered, suffering 
 wddow — same being my stepmother — 
 whose villainous stepson, who had had 
 every advantage of a mother's care and 
 consideration, deserted her just when she 
 was ready to send him away to be educated, 
 and oh joy! the dastardly youth had be- 
 come a tramp- committed some terrible 
 depredation and was now languishing in 
 durance vile — which served liim right, by 
 hek! After years of constant worry oyer 
 her beloved stepson the poor thing died 
 brokenhearted, only two years since. And 
 this Yv'as still more important: Her stone- 
 hearted husband — my father — evidently not 
 apprcciatin.^ a kind indulgent second wife, 
 willed his propertv to his son; the widows 
 dower interest lately through her mother, 
 — ^deceased — passing to her neice, Ada. 
 
 At once I saw a few possibilities. I could 
 locate Ada, come to some agreement with 
 her, then turn the place over to "Thomas 
 Daley," whom I shall continue to designate 
 as Dave Ellis. 
 
 Without further ado or disclosing my 
 identity, I gave Shillaby two complimen- 
 taries for our circus; then bid my new 
 
 25 
 
friends a pleasant farewell. Outside, head- 
 ed for Dave's schooner, I explained the 
 entire situation to him then drove over to 
 the log cabin which we found devoid of 
 anything, excepting a large family of bats — 
 Dave promptlv dubbing the shack: "Bat's 
 Roost." 
 
 In a fever of excitement I tendered him 
 the place for a home without remuneration, 
 to which he demurred with mild dignity, 
 giving as a reason his capability of making 
 his own livlihood and his abhorrence to 
 favors involving obligations which he was 
 in honor bound to respect. Only after 
 ])rolonged argument I convinced him of 
 liis indispensable sersdces in the matter of 
 shaping mv interests in a legal manner, and 
 a promise to return and spend the winter 
 with him. I sighed with relief when he 
 reluctantly consented to remain. 
 
 Keeping within compass during fifteen 
 consecutive seasons ahead of the white 
 tops, with varying positions during the win- 
 ter months — even at modest salaries — I had 
 been enabled to lay by a competence 
 amounting to a few thousand dollars; in- 
 stilling a sense of independence and a deep- 
 felt desire for an extended holiday. 
 
 Dave, having secured Ada's — now Mrs. 
 John Har^^ey, of St. Louis — address from 
 the County Court records at Dash 
 City, advised her of my intentions 
 of acquiring her interest in the estate 
 
 26 
 
bv purchase, to which she rephed in- 
 viting further negotiation in the matter, 
 with a special invitation for a visit from 
 me, after the close of our season— a kindness 
 mcetinp; with mv ready approbation. 
 
 I located her with her husband— an ex- 
 pert accountant — and two small children, 
 Frank and Nettie, in a neat but unpreten- 
 tious cottage to which I found a most cor- 
 diar welcome. Quite naturally— figurative- 
 ly speaking— Ada and I lived back m the 
 wilds most of the time, recounting our 
 vouthful joys and regrets, having one 
 phvsical sensibility in common: a disrehsh 
 aniounting almost to a passion for my step- 
 mother, whose vixionish vituperations, when 
 Ada could stand torture no longer, forced 
 her to seek more congenial quarters. 
 
 My offer of one thousand dollars — same 
 being on the tax duphcate for eighteen 
 hundred — for her one-third interest in our 
 heritage, found favor on her behalf; but 
 her husband bringing his expert account- 
 ant's faculties into action demurred, tabhng 
 the matter for future consideration. 
 
 With Ada's assurance of exerting her in- 
 fluence with John, for a speedy consum- 
 i^iation of the deal, I closed my pleasant 
 week's sojourn v/ith the Harvey's on most 
 amicable terms, and proceeded to Drexton. 
 
 At "Bat's Roost" I Avas elated Avith the 
 orderly manner in wdiich evei-^ihing had 
 been placed, and the improvements Dave 
 
 27 
 
had wrought with his o^\^l unskilled hands, 
 crude as some of them were, they serv^ed 
 their purpose admirably; being a credit to 
 the Oracle of the dictionary, who had often 
 deplored brain education, without hand- 
 training. 
 
 Gadding about the town I found its as- 
 pect of greater importance than I had 
 realized on ni}^ previous visit. A bank and 
 a Weekly- called the Drexton News, were 
 new acquisitions. The town having been 
 designated as the County seat, the excava- 
 tion for the foundation of a Courthouse had 
 already been completed. New houses and 
 new stores augured prosperity. This being 
 during the epoch when the Eastern j^opu- 
 lace was being bombarded by the trans- 
 portation interests with Horace Greele^^'s ad- 
 vice: "Go West Young Man and Grow up 
 with the Countr^^" — which slogan in a 
 multitude of instances did not fall on deaf 
 ears — I was already accustomed to seeing 
 Western towns grow by leaps and bounds. 
 
 I visualized Drexton five, aye, ten years 
 hence, with a population of from ten to 
 twenty or more thousands. With my one- 
 hundred and sixty acres subdivided into 
 building lots I would have nothing to do 
 but count money, or, well, perhaps send 
 Frank and Nettie Harvey to college and 
 minister to their needs. 
 
 After the holidays Wally Moss, who was 
 functioning as an enterprising exploiter of 
 
 28 
 
aspiraiils to fistic fame with championship 
 bees in their bonnets, dropped in on us for 
 a week's visit. 
 
 On my return from tlie post-oflfice tlie 
 following morning, I found a note on the 
 table saying that he and Dave had gone to 
 Shillaby's to fetch a jug of cider. Ensconc- 
 ing myself in a chair with feet parked on a 
 table, I was perusing the Drexton News, 
 when my two old cronies returned. 
 
 Wally began a humorous recount of the 
 antics of Shillaby's Airdales, when he broke 
 off suddenly, a new inspiration having been 
 born in that teemful brain of his. As the 
 poet Heine said: "We are- after all, notli- 
 ing but unconscious instruments of men of 
 thought." 
 
 '"Say Tape," questioned Wally, leering at 
 me thoughtfully, "let's start a Dog and Pony 
 show!" 
 
 "What with?" I drawled' not greatly in- 
 terested, I had seen too many small show^s 
 go under for the lack of capital. 
 
 "With three thousand dollars and a 
 trunkful of nerve," enthused Wally with a 
 grin. "We'll put up fifteen hundred dol- 
 lars each; with twent^^-five hundred we buy 
 tents, seats, w^agons and printing, leaving us 
 five hundred for incidentals. All our acts 
 will be on a salary basis. Fm tired of the 
 mulish temperament of my would-be cham- 
 pions and Vv^ant a change — besides I w^ant to 
 jiiake some money!" he snapped with 
 11 no lit 3*. 
 
 29 
 
"But," keeping up my drawl, "by the 
 time I get matters fixed up with Ada, I may 
 not have fifteen " 
 
 "Never mind about Ada," he interrupted' 
 "she hasn't sold you anything yet, so you 
 don't owe her nothin'. The time to think 
 about that, is after you got plenty coin, be- 
 sides," he mused staring at the log fire, 
 "if you close with her, wliich I hope you 
 will, we want this place for our winter 
 quarters, you can get enough jack from 
 the bank on a mortgage on this joint." 
 
 This phase of conditions had never en- 
 tered my mind. Bringing my feet from 
 the table with a dull thump, I extended 
 my hand — all great contests are entered in- 
 to with the shaking of hands. 
 
 Within twenty-four hours all the tenta- 
 tive plans had been arranged and Dave set 
 to work unleashing a few bushels of ad- 
 jectives from that overburdened dictionar>' 
 brain of his. In due time copy for the 
 "Stupendous Climax of Managerial Enter- 
 prises," was ready for the printer. Dave's 
 refusal to join our itinerant exhibition of 
 quadrupeds, was final and absolute. He agree- 
 ing however, to remain at "Bat's Boost" 
 to supervise a new building, keep the books 
 and act as treasurer for our show. 
 
 The latter part of April found us on the 
 road with the niftiest Dog and Pony show 
 of that particular season; and not only did 
 we begin, but continued making money. 
 
 30 
 
During the summer friendly missive-^. 
 \vere exchanged between the Harvey's and 
 myself, but as to a final adjustment of tlie 
 matter relating to the estate, they said never 
 a word^ — a matter I began to look upon 
 with some apprehension. 
 
 Closing a prosperous season we returned 
 to our winter quarters at Drexton as per 
 schedule, which Dave had contrived to have 
 ready according to our specifications. The 
 enthusiastic reports regarding the tov/n'j-: 
 p;rowth — furnished by Dave during our a!)- 
 sence had not been overdrawn. 
 
 The Courthouse — within a quarter of a 
 mile from "Bat*s Roost," was nearing com- 
 plelion ; Railroad shops were under con- 
 struction; Sabbathdays were ignored, with 
 buildings springing up like Yellowstone 
 geysers. 
 
 While on the road the following season, 
 1 received a letter from John Harve5% stat- 
 ing that he had stopped oil' at Drexton on 
 a trip West; was rejoiced at the town's pros- 
 perity; giving me a barrel full of advice as 
 to subdividing the land, then closing with 
 a proposition wherein, for a mere bagatelle 
 ]\]<e ten thousand dollars, they w^ould deed 
 me their oneThird interest — I was flabber- 
 gasted. 
 
 ^ My first impulse was to apply to the 
 Court for sale in partition, letting the 
 property bring what it might at sheriffs 
 sale; but this plan was at once vetoed by 
 
 31 
 
Dave, who suggested to prolong, instead of 
 curtailing the Court's procedure; let the 
 Harvey's wiggle, then when John came to 
 his normal senses he would transact busi- 
 ness in a rational manner. 
 
 So far our season had met with nothin/; 
 but ill-fated results. It had rained days on 
 end, roads were impassable, detours had to 
 be made, and in a few instances — ovving to 
 the torrential rains we passed through towns 
 scheduled for exhibition, without even un- 
 loading our paraphernalia. We had been 
 out five months, with a shrinka.oe of over 
 ten thousand dollars in our bank account, 
 and were nearing the financial edge. 
 
 About this time we received a long letter 
 from Daye, which after mature deliber- 
 ations we interpreted about as follows: 
 
 His attempt to hide liis light under a 
 bushel from public vision, succeeded only 
 in a small measure. On an occasion when 
 the two Shillaby boys — fine, sturdy youn^' 
 chaps — consulted him to the advisability of 
 a public petition concerning a political 
 proposition, he had advised in its favor and 
 agreed to write the introduction, which he 
 headed with an artistically penned spread 
 eagle device, followed with the preamble. 
 
 As a chirographer, Dave was a perfect 
 artist. With one continuous movement of 
 his pen he would draw a spider's web; 
 write his name diagonall^^ across, complet- 
 ing with a blinking spider in an upper cor- 
 
 32 
 
ner complacently surveying his liandiwork. 
 His phraseology together with the artis- 
 tic penmanship meeting with considerable 
 well merited comment, resulted in a wTite- 
 up in the Drexlon News, expatiating on his 
 sijperior intelligence and at once launched 
 a boom for his nomination for Count}^ Re- 
 corder at the coming primaries. Dave was 
 furious. In his best style he addressed a 
 missive to the "News" denying any ambi- 
 tion for political preferment. This only 
 added fuel to the fire. The editor printed 
 his note in full, calling special attention to 
 its "excellent points," with an appeal to the 
 voters to nominate him even against his 
 ardent protest — which the "News" regarded 
 as mere subterfuge. Tliis was the straw that 
 broke the camel's back. Dave having no 
 ambition to parade his idenity bj^ becoming 
 embroiled in politics, hitched his old roans 
 to the old prairie schooner, and departed 
 for points unknown. Having no particular 
 objective, he left no address. The entire 
 lamentable situation depressed us to a pain- 
 ful degree. His enclosed check covered om° 
 entire bank balance, not having deducted 
 a single penny for his valuable services — 
 occasioning^ some caustic, but well meant 
 remarks from Wally. 
 
 As the great bard said: "The Miserable 
 
 33 :. 
 
hath no other Medicine, but only hope." 
 Accordingly we pursued our ill-fated course 
 until September, when "The Golden Guar- 
 antee of Supreme Perfection," yielded its 
 melancholy ghost into the hands of the 
 sheriff; setting two enterprising magnates 
 and tentative Napoleons of the Circus 
 world- to counting ties and riding the bum- 
 pers on freight trains, headed for the haven 
 of all stranded show-folk — the great Me- 
 tropolis, where we found the Rialto teem- 
 ing with "professional people" seeking en- 
 gat- em en ts. 
 
 Wally was fortunate in securing a posi- 
 tion with an Athletic Club, while I starred 
 as a parasite — living on Wally. Finally I 
 booked up with a cheap melodramatic 
 thriller as propert}^ man, at a salar^^ of fif- 
 teen dollars per — perhaps. 
 
 Near the close of the season we came to 
 St. Louis, for a week's engagement. No 
 communications having been exchanged be- 
 tween the Hars^ey's and myself for some 
 time, but bearing them no ill will whatever, 
 I looked them up, finding them in a new 
 location and in rather reduced circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Poor John! Through his arduous labors, 
 indoor confinement- sedentary habits to- 
 gether with long hours as an accountant, 
 he had become afflicted wdth the grim 
 ravages of tuberculosis; having already 
 
 34 
 
passed the stage where his earning capacity 
 had ceased to function. 
 
 Like myriads of other victims of this 
 dread malady, he had availed himself of 
 every known remedy to alleviate his sidfer- 
 ings, thereby reducing his financial resourc- 
 es to an exceedingly low ebb. My heart 
 bled with profound sympathy when I was 
 apprised that through their penury, cruel 
 fate had compelled them to send Frank and 
 Nettie to work, that their meager earnings 
 might assist in the maintainance of the 
 household. Thus cruel fate robbed them 
 of their inherent right — a common school 
 education. 
 
 An appeal to our show's manager, a 
 burley and natural bully, for my back sal- 
 ary — amounting to nearly two hundred dol- 
 lars — fell on deaf ears. His everlasting 
 plea being: "poor business, low admission 
 price and high salaries." My deep grati- 
 tude to Ada for interlarding my dumb 
 brain with a few grains of common sense, 
 together with John's plight, made me des- 
 perate. A second conference with my 
 manager resulted in a temporary relief to 
 his deafness; being brought about by a 
 smashing left hook on the jaw and a few 
 kicks in the ribs, which loosened his bank- 
 roll to the extent of a full settlement. I 
 dispatched the amount to Ada and pre- 
 cipitately left the city — being afraid of 
 sentence to the rock-pile, 
 
 35 
 
 
During the summer v/hile I was manag- 
 ing a Street Fair, a thouand miles awa\' 
 they laid poor John to rest. 
 
 J f 
 
 ^f> Kju »i> »t» 
 
 f 'P <!• 't' 
 
 Through friendly offices of the Court 
 officials, the sale of our land had been de- 
 ferred to the limit, by which time I had 
 a little money. Wally, who was contract- 
 ing agent for a prominent circus, had a 
 little more; and Ada's insurance from John 
 helped. Shillaby did the bidding, then had 
 the title made to me. So at last I became 
 a ful-fledged freeholder. After the close 
 of the season — I was assistant to Wally — we 
 both returned to Drexton. Mapping out a 
 plan to rehabilitate our shrunken fortunes, 
 we opened an ofTice, sold lots in assorted 
 parcels— and prospered. 
 
 As time passed our business grew to such 
 proportions that we needed an assistant. 
 My mind naturally turned to no one except 
 — ^Dave Ellis. A goodly sum would I have 
 sacrificed to la}^ my hands on that con- 
 founded, rascally, slinking, old friend; boon 
 companion and benefactor. 
 
 Here I w^as for the first time in my life 
 able, willing, longing, to make his existence 
 congenial and worth while; to pay in kind- 
 my debt of undying gratitude for the pains, 
 the patience, the fatherl^^ regard he had 
 continually shown in my welfare. Where 
 
 36 
 
was he now! — my flood of memory raced 
 on — where? No doubt, roaming about 
 eking out a precarious hving, when he 
 should be right here —with me, sharing in 
 my good fortune, instead of, damn him, no, 
 no; not that! Wherever he may be- may 
 peace and contentment be with him. Over- 
 come b}^ emotion — I wept. 
 
 Years rolled by as has been their wont 
 from the beginning of time. Ada has been 
 my devoted and adorable wife, for lo, these 
 many years. For Frank and Nettie and 
 our grand-children I cherish the tenderest 
 of affections — nothing they would not do 
 for their old grand-pap. My revered friend 
 Wally — we long since dissolved our part- 
 nership — abandoned his migratory habits 
 and is now the respected autocrat of the bill- 
 boards in our town — which the latest census 
 informs us is approaching the one-hundred 
 thousand mark. 
 
 Many are the felicious hours I have spent 
 with Wally, drawing on our memorj^ gal- 
 lerys, wherein frequently pleasant reference 
 reverted to our mutual friend, Dave Ellis. 
 
 One pleasant July day, A. D. 1920, Wally 
 called my attention to an itein in our local 
 Dail3^ referring to a "M3^stery man" giving 
 full credit to one of Americans foremost 
 New^spapers, a copy of which vv^e sent for 
 and received in due time, from which the 
 following excerpts are copied verbatim: 
 
 37 
 
"Life's curtain gently dropped io siiield 
 from the vvorid, from which he tied, the 
 history of Thomas Armstrong, the "m^^s- 
 tery man" of Shantytown. 
 
 " 'Tom' Ai'i^^strong, a man of culture- of 
 scholarly attainment and a gentleman by 
 all the standards of refinement' hid his reol 
 identity beneath a course exterior, until 
 death sealed his secret. Years ago there 
 arrived within Shantytown, a mysterious 
 stranger, driving an old wagon of the 13^)0 
 known in Western frontiers days as a 
 "prairie schooner." He gathered together 
 debris tossed aside by the river and built 
 himself a shanty. Dump inhabitants soon 
 remarked the new inhabitant was different. 
 His shanty was kept spotlessly clean and 
 the "monkey" stove, which warmed his 
 aging limbs during the long winter days 
 and nights, soon became the attraction for 
 a growing circle of acquaintances who 
 learned to wonder at his wisdom and re- 
 spect his advice on their problems. 
 
 "The classics were at his finger's tips; 
 Greek and Latin were his linguistic com- 
 panions. Throughout the years no one was 
 able to pierce the veil that shrouded Arm- 
 strong's past, nor unlock his lips in answer 
 to the query of why he chose to live there 
 or whence he came. 
 
 "During the years passed in that com- 
 munity he never referred to the veil separ- 
 ating him from the past. In sharp contrast 
 
 38 
 
to the usual derelict, he lived the code of his 
 forefathers, a gentleman." 
 
 Why he chose to live there? Ay, there's 
 the rub; why, indeed? With his briUiant in- 
 tellect, his pleasing address, his gentleman- 
 ly conduct, his kind and S3niipathetic na- 
 ture; what field of endeavor he might not 
 have entered, is left to conjecture. Yet, no 
 doubt, he bore his lot with fortitudinous 
 complacency' as in his philosophical moods 
 he repeatedly asserted that ''contentment" 
 is the most eloquent of all Enghsh words, 
 a trait of character he apparently had 
 thoroughly mastered. 
 
 Fain would 1 carve his name with goldeis 
 chisel in the consciousness of the pubhc— 
 were I in possession of the right one." 
 
 i'fi i^ ^ v'> 
 
 Several days later in the lobby of the 
 *'Savoy," I again met the Realtor from 
 Drexton^ — w^hose name for obvious reasons 
 has been withheld — who had told me the 
 story of his life with Dave Ellis, and learned 
 from him that by the aid of a few old 
 relics, together with some manuscripts 
 found in his shack at the dump, he had 
 established the fact that Tom Armstrong, 
 the recluse and Dave Elhs were one and 
 the same person. But the ^reat riddle 
 vIk) was the "Mystery Man"^'of Shanty- 
 
 39 
 
town before he assumed the name of Dave 
 EIKs, or Thomas Daley, or Thomas Arm- 
 strong remained a mystery as much as it 
 did before. 
 
 My parlor car acquaintance was satisfied. 
 He had located and paid proper respect to 
 the memory of his benefactor; thus dis- 
 charging a debt of gratitude, as far as it 
 was humanly possible to do. 
 
 In the realms of fiction all mysteries are 
 solved in the end. In real life, it is not al- 
 ways so. The records of any police depart- 
 ment are replete with details of obscure 
 tragedies and incidents never disclosed to 
 the full light of day. 
 
 That Dave Elhs should have been dis- 
 turbed when on one occasion he was parti- 
 ally identified as a clergyman- started a 
 train of thoughts in my mind, which would 
 not be dismissed. 
 
 Some day, when the ouija board reaches 
 a liigher state of perfection, I shall avail 
 myself of the services of some scientific 
 manipulator of the wireless, to subpoena 
 one Dave Ellis, for the sole purpose of hav- 
 ing him yield expert testimony, regarding 
 the whereabouts of one Reverend Lougherty 
 — this is not a pseudonym — who flourished 
 in the Southern part of Ohio in the early 
 eighties. 
 
 ADVANCE PRINT.. 
 CINCINNATI, O. 
 
 40 
 
■S^ '^ CONGRESS 
 
 012 793 612 2 
 
 ^