Cappy, 1939, 22 yrs. old.


            One weekend a couple of months later we found an old lumber camp that was closed. About fifteen or twenty camps. We divided to look through them. There wasn't much in any of them. One had a lock on it and that made us want to see what was inside. We had a small pinch bar but couldn't get the lock open so we pried the boards and all loose.
            I sprung it out enough so that Frank could get inside and he told me to stay outside and watch for anyone that might come around. He kept telling me what he was finding. It used to be the office. There was nothing around, only old papers, figures, and records of the work they did.
            All of a sudden he was quiet. "What you doing?" I asked. He said he'd found something we might use. I waited a few more minutes and wondered what I could pull on him. Finally I just yelled "Cops!" and I took off around the next camp and watched what would happen.
            I heard him trying to get out. He sounded like someone trying to wreck a room. He called for me to hold the door far enough open so he could get out but I just stayed put. He pushed the door and boards far enough out so he could squeeze out. He ripped his pants on the nails as he came through and I heard him say "Oh!" as he took off down through the camp. I seen envelopes flying out of his pockets as he ran. He was maybe two or three hundred yards before he realized there was no one around. He stopped and looked back and seen me just standing and watching him break another world's record and laughing my head off.
            Boy, I'm telling you, from the time I said "Cops!" till the time he stopped running I bet no more than ten seconds had gone by. He had found a drawer full of envelopes he was filling all his pockets. That's what was flying out as he ran. I never did know what in the world he wanted with all those envelopes. He didn't know himself when I ask him, but he did say the next time I could go in and he's watch outside. Said he's like a chance to nail me in. One thing, he never could tell when to trust me. I never did know why.
            Anyways, we always did have a lot of fun while we were together. One thing for sure, anyone never wanted to be in his road when he get scart because he'd run them right over to get away.
            It wasn't too long after that Frank headed back for Pennsylvania to our Uncle's place and I got a job on a farm in southern New York state. It was a big farm. They had four hired men all the time. We got so much pay and our board. They served real good meals. They had a good cook. We had our own table to eat at. In the summer there were six men working there. I used to look forward to breakfast. They used to bring plates piled up with hot cakes, others with bacon and ham and eggs. I sure used to put away plenty of those kind of things. After all when we ate breakfast we had already done two and a half hours work. They had 85 milking cows and back at that time there was no milking machines. We done it all by hand. We each had 23 cows to milk. They all gave any where from 14 to 22 quarts each at a milking. I was a pretty good milker and could milk 15 an hour so by the time we had them done and fed we were ready for a good breakfast.
            The only trouble, there wasn't no time for anything else. Our day was from 4:30 in the morning till 7 in he evening so nobody felt like doing anything but rest and sleep at night.
            I did have an old bicycle I used to ride Saturday night to see the movies in town close by. There was no coaster brake on it. It was like a tricycle. The pedals kept going around on it. If I was going too fast I couldn't get the brake on, I had to slow it down by pushing backwards on the pedals but I got along with it for a while. It was better than walking.