ing away in his New York sky parlor, writing his verse

of the things he longed for but had never known; until,

one day, I met a fellow between Victorville and Cajon

pass who knew His Knibbs, and come to find out this

Knibbs is a regular fellow. His attic covers all God's coun-

try that is out of doors and he knows the road from La

Bajada hill to Barstow a darned sight better than he

knows Broadway."

There was no answering sympathy awakened in either

of his listeners--they remained mute. Bridge rose and

stretched. He picked up his knife, wiped off the blade,

closed it and slipped it into a trousers' pocket. Then he

walked toward the door. At the threshold he paused

and turned. "'Good-bye girls! I'm through,'" he quoted

and passed out into the sunlight.

Instantly the two within were on their feet and follow-

ing him.

"Where are you going?" cried The Oskaloosa Kid.

"You're not going to leave us, are you?"

"Oh, please don't!" pleaded the girl.

"I don't know," said Bridge, solemnly, "whether I'm

safe in remaining in your society or not. This Oskaloosa

Kid is a bad proposition; and as for you, young lady, I

rather imagine that the town constable is looking for you

right now."

The girl winced. "Please don't," she begged. "I haven't

done anything wicked, honestly! But I want to get away

so that they can't question me. I was in the car when

they killed him; but I had nothing to do with it. It is

just because of my father that I don't want them to find

me. It would break his heart."

As the three stood back of the Squibbs' summer

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