" There was almost a sob in his voice,
so real was his terror.
The man threw an arm across his companion's shoul-
der. "Don't worry, kid," he said. "You're not a murderer
even if you did kill Dopey Charlie, which I hope you
did. You're a benefactor of the human race. I have known
Charles for years. He should have been killed long since.
Furthermore, as you shot in self defence no jury would
convict you. I fear, however, that you didn't kill him.
You say you could hear his screams as long as you were
within earshot of the barn--dead men don't scream, you
know."
"How did you know my name?" asked the youth.
"I don't," replied the man.
"But you called me 'Kid' and that's my name--I'm
The Oskaloosa Kid."
The man was glad that the darkness hid his smile of
amusement. He knew The Oskaloosa Kid well, and he
knew him as an ex-pug with a pock marked face, a bul-
let head, and a tin ear. The flash of lightning had re-
vealed, upon the contrary, a slender boy with smooth
skin, an oval face, and large dark eyes.
"Ah," he said, "so you are The Oskaloosa Kid! I am
delighted, sir, to make your acquaintance. Permit me
to introduce myself: my name is Bridge. If James were
here I should ask him to mix one of his famous cock-
tails that we might drink to our mutual happiness and
the longevity of our friendship.
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