"There must be some good in him," she continued,
"even if he is such a desperate character; but I know
he's not The Oskaloosa Kid. Do you really suppose he
robbed a house last night and then tried to kill that
Dopey person?"
Bridge shook his head. "I don't know," he said; "but
I am inclined to believe that he is more imaginative
than criminal. He certainly shot up the Dopey person;
but I doubt if he ever robbed a house."
While they waited, The Oskaloosa Kid trudged along
the muddy road to the nearest farm house, which lay a
full mile beyond the Squibbs' home. As he approached
the door a lank, sallow man confronted him with a sus-
picious eye.
"Good morning," greeted The Oskaloosa Kid.
The man grunted.
"I want to get something to eat," explained the youth.
If the boy had hurled a dynamite bomb at him the
result could have been no more surprising. The lank,
sallow man went up into the air, figuratively. He went
up a mile or more, and on the way down he reached his
hand inside the kitchen door and brought it forth en-
veloping the barrel of a shot gun.
"Durn ye!" he cried. "I'll lam ye! Get offen here. I
knows ye. Yer one o' that gang o' bums that come here
last night, an' now you got the gall to come back beggin'
for food, eh? I'll lam ye!" and he raised the gun to his
shoulder.
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