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About The west shore. (Portland, Or.) 1875-1891 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 21, 1889)
WEST SHORE. It was about two weeks after Marie's disappear anee, and an intensely hot day. Little John hud the Water street door of his olliee wide open, and was sit ting on a stool. In his mouth he held a short-stemmed, black-bowled clay pipe. Tho door was opened at sueh an angle that tho lower hnlf of the room was obscured from the gaze of a passer, but certain sounds that came from within told that Little John was not tho only oc cupant. A steady pounding, interrupted at times by a grating noise, was made by a man who stood at the bench, on which were a number of thick earthen dish es, with pestles protruding above their tops. The dili gent workman was Old Tom. On account of the sti lling heat Tom had thrown aside his coat and waist coat, and there was exposed a dirty linen shirt, rone suspenders holding up pantaloons very baggy in tlie seat ami short in the legs. A Bimburned, grinly neck and thick black hair, cut as square as a thorough bred's tail, completed the rear view of the worker, who pounded and ground something in one of the dishes. At about three o'clock on this afternoon, a man en tered Water street some quarter of a mile alove Little John's shop. To a boy who was vainly trying to find sufficient air to lly a kite, the man put some questions, and receiving answers, came leisurely toward the wharves, and presented himself at Little John's door. Little John was still smoking and gazing into space, and it took some seconds for his eyes to focus so as to comprehendingly behold the figure, but when ho got tho required distance ho took out his pipe and ex claimed, in a complaining whine, Now, you go away from here! I don t want you I 'Twas you that drove her oil !" Instead of lcing dismayed at Little John s violent gestures, tho man pushed him gently aside and en tered tho office. Tom, who had turned alHiut, said, Ins hubby face wreathed in his most conciliatory smile: " Don't ye take on so, John! lie won t hurt no body. I know him well. He's Mr. Hawkes, n lies a come ter see me. Ain't ye?" "I don't want no Mr. Hawkes here!" persisted Little John, sullenly. "He made my girl gn away. He worried her, V she's run oir." John was sniveling like n crossed child. Hawkes attempted to soothe him, saying: " I did not drive her away. When she went I was many miles from hero. I have come to assist you to find her." , , . . ., ,P There was a black Kittle on the ben.h beside r.mi and it was evident to Hawkes that the littl n had tasted often of its contents. , "Will you bring her back?" asked Little John, who had caught only tho lust of the remark. " You must help me find her." said Hawk. "I don't know where she is!" Little John ex claimed, half crying in disappointment. i v. ... i '.:n i..i.n .ni. 0 i Tom: then in an ..!.!- il-'i ... in. Mr. Hawkes," loin lnpr his great head significantly, then asked in a Mrt-r tone, " Yc's my pardner. ain't ye, John. John nodded feebly, then his head dropped, and ho fell asleep. ... i i I " What are you doing hero, Tom?" Hawkes aske. " You seem to have struck prosrnty at hint. I sl.u I stay with you awhile," drawing up a rhair ami light ing a cigar. " I'm in business," said Tom, grinning. " This 'ore's my factory, S'poso ye know I'm a chemicler. I'm a gom' ter learn hint my formuler," nodding to ward the sleeping John. " All the trouble is, he can't keep 'wake long 'nough, V when he's a sleepin' he fergits all wot I've a told him." " What are you grinding there?" Hawkes asked. "Them's yearbs," turning to his work. "I'm tonkin' stuff as 'II kill warts now. A old lnjin gin me the formuler. I'm a chemicler, I am. I use ox alic acid, 'n' Bamlnige, V sugar o' lead, 'n' sleh sull." He paused in his grinding to look back and Impart this information, with a fin expressing consciousness of his accomplishments, " And occasionally you get time to tip up that black bottle," said Hawkes. " When he gin's me a chance." said Tom, with an other grin. " He's at it most o' the time," then turn ing abruptly, his dirty face shining, in bis most wheed ling smirk, "(!in me a dollar." " No!" Hawkes answered, llrmly. Tom looked surprised, but was Instantly smiling again, ami came toward the banker, crying eoaxlngly: " Come, now, do. I allers thought more o' ye 'n I docs o' me own son, I's told ye so ninny's the time, V I tell ye so agin." " I said the last time that I would give you noth ing more, If you will answer my questions, I'll pay vou. but I'll give vou nothing I want to know if you null lull lllll lllll' lliinir nlioiit the ladv. his wife's com- ..... .. .. ... , i, i ,11 paninn? pointing to Utile Joint. na ne ever mm you of her?" I knows all aUit her," ell'uslvcly. " I knows niore'n anylody." " Where is she?" " K u micd away." "Alone?" ' " No; with t'other gall, the one as the old man s sou was a goin' ter marry." " How do you know?" " Old man said so," scowling at the doubt In the questioner's Voice, " ))id volt ever see her?" For ft few minutes Tom eyed his questioner cilll- ( ' course I seed her! " he answered. " I sm her afore anylssly round here s I her. I made her cry onee," grinning broadly. " How could you timkn her cry? as she afraid ofvoll?" '" Will ye gin the dollar?" shrewdly. Hawkes nodded. Twar a paper I hud, V she read it n cried, I got it here in my old cat. Ye can have it If ye want it. Hhe cried 's though her own mother writ It. Hay, with ft return of the cunning twinkle, "p'raps her own mother did writ it." .. I. . .1 .1 ll..uki.l "IliM'i III) j in a louder know anything of her move uM sli.ee she left his house? Tom shook his head. " H ain't done nothin' but rry after her. Hawkes riM.e to go. " Here Is your .Mlur," he said, " If jru will find out where she went when aim left, I will pay well for the Information,"