Ben Blair: The Story of a PlainsmanLillibridge, Will
General
Ben Blair: The Story of a Plainsman
Lillibridge, Will
Cowboys -- Fiction; Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction; Western stories
Straight ahead, looking neither to right nor to left, went the
countryman; he turned the corner of the block, a corner without a light.
Suddenly, with an instinctive tightening of his breath, he drew back. He
had nearly stepped upon a man, dead drunk, stretched half in a darkened
doorway, half on the walk. The wretch's head was bent back over one of
the iron steps until it seemed as if he must choke, and he was snoring
heavily.
Not a policeman was in sight, and Ben, in great physical disgust,
carried the helpless hulk to one side, out of the way of pedestrians,
took off the tattered coat and rolled it into a pillow for the head, and
then moved on with the sound of the stertorous drunken breathing still
in his ears.
Still other experiences were in store for him. He made a half block
without further interruption; then he suddenly heard at his back a
frightened scream, and a young woman came running toward him, followed
at a distance by a roughly dressed man, the latter apparently the worse
for liquor. Blair stopped, and the girl coming up, caught him by the arm
imploringly.
"Help me, Mister, please!" she pleaded breathlessly. "He--Tom, back
there--insulted me. I--" A burst of hysterical tears interrupted the
confession.
Meanwhile, seeing the turn events had taken, the pursuer had likewise
stopped, and now he hesitated.
"All right," replied Ben. "Go ahead! I'll see that the fellow doesn't
trouble you again." And he started back.
But the girl's hand was again upon his arm. "No," she protested, "not
that way, please. He's my steady, Tom is, only to-night he's drank too
much, and--and--he doesn't realize what he's doing." The grip on his arm
tightened as she looked imploringly into his face. "Take me home,
please!" A catch was in her voice. "I'm afraid."
Ben hesitated. Even in the half-light the petitioner's face hinted
brazenly of cosmetics.
"Where do you live?" he asked shortly.
"Only a little way, less than a block, and it's the direction you're
going. Please take me!"
"Very well," said Blair, and they moved on, the girl still clinging to
him and sobbing at intervals. Before a dark three-story and basement
building, with a decidedly sinister aspect, she stopped and indicated a
stairway.
"This is the place."
"All right," responded Ben. "I guess you're safe now. Good-night!"
But she clung to him the tighter. "Come up with me," she insisted.
"We're only on the second floor, and I haven't thanked you yet. Really,
I'm so grateful! You don't know what it means to be a girl, and--and--"
Her feelings got the better of her again, and she paused to wipe her
eyes on her sleeve. "My mother will be so thankful too. She'd never
forgive me if I didn't bring you up. Please come!" and she led the way
up the darkened stair.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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