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Sitting in the dark with nothing to occupy him Billy let his mind dwell upon the

identity of his jailer, until, as may have happened to you, nothing in the whole

world seemed equally as important as the solution of the mystery. Even his

impending fate faded into nothingness by comparison with the momentous

question as to where he had heard the name Eddie Shorter before.

As he sat puzzling his brain over the inconsequential matter something stirred

upon the floor close to his feet, and presently he jerked back a booted foot that a

rat had commenced to gnaw upon.

Helluva place to stick a guy," mused Billy, "in wit a bunch o' man-eatin' rats.

Hey!" and he turned his face toward the door. "You, Eddie! Come here!"

Eddie approached the door and listened.

"Wot do you want?" he asked. "None o' your funny business, you know. I'm from

Shawnee, Kansas, I am, an' they don't come no slicker from nowhere on earth.

You can't fool me."

Shawnee, Kansas! Eddie Shorter! The whole puzzle was cleared in Billy's mind in

an instant.

"So you're Eddie Shorter of Shawnee, Kansas, are you?" called Billy. "Well I know

your maw, Eddie, an' ef I had such a maw as you got I wouldn't be down here

wastin' my time workin' alongside a lot of Dagos; but that ain't what I started out

to say, which was that I want a light in here. The damned rats are tryin' to chaw

off me kicks an' when they're done wit them they'll climb up after me an' old man

Villa'll be sore as a pup."

"You know my maw?" asked Eddie, and there was a wistful note in his voice. "Aw

shucks! you don't know her--that's jest some o' your funny, slicker business. You

wanna git me in there an' then you'll try an' git aroun' me some sort o' way to let

you escape; but I'm too slick for that."

On the level Eddie, I know your maw," persisted Billy. "I ben in your maw's

house jest a few weeks ago. 'Member the horsehair sofa between the windows?

Member the Bible on the little marble-topped table? Eh? An' Tige? Well, Tige's

croaked; but your maw an' your paw ain't an' they want you back, Eddie. I don't

care ef you believe me, son, or not; but your maw was mighty good to me, an' you

promise me you'll write her an' then go back home as fast as you can. It ain't

everybody's got a swell maw like that, an' them as has ought to be good to 'em."

Beyond the closed door Eddie's jaw was commencing to tremble. Memory was

flooding his heart and his eyes with sweet recollections of an ample breast where

258

The Mucker