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Beach, Rex Ellingwood, 1877-1949

"The Ne'er-Do-Well"


Meanwhile he uttered epithets in broken English which the other
had no difficulty in understanding. Kirk promptly turned the
nozzle upon him, and the full force of Colon's water-pressure
struck him squarely in the stomach, doubling him up like the kick
of a mule. Down the newcomer went, then half rolled, half slid
across the street as the stream continued to play upon him. He
scrambled to his feet, a sorry spectacle of waving arms and
dripping garments, his cries of rage drowned in the delighted
clamor of the beholders.
"I guess they'll keep away now," laughed Kirk, as he turned back
to his self-appointed task.
But Allan exclaimed, fearfully: "Oh, boss, I fear he is some 'igh
h'officer."
"Never mind. We're having a lot of fun. It's medals for us--gold
medals for bravery, Allan. To-morrow the board of aldermen will
thank us."
But this prediction seemed ill-founded. An instant later a half-
dozen policemen advanced in a businesslike manner, and their
leader announced: "Come! You are arrest."
"Pinched! What for? We're doing a lot of good here."
"Come, queeck!"
"Oh, Lard, my God!" Allan mumbled. "I shall die and kill myself."
"They won't do anything to us," Kirk assured him. "I've been
pinched lots of times.


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