Thirty

            We went to Cranston, Ohio every Saturday and came back Sunday. It was about twenty miles and we rode the train so we had to go and come back when the train did. We had got to know some of the girls that lived there so the weekends were spent there.

            After a couple of months the boss told us about a place on an old farm we could live for nothing so we were making plans to move in about a week when one night we heard a girl screaming down the street. We looked out the window and saw a fellow hitting a girl. My brother said, "Come on, let's go get him." Me, I was all for that and I beat him down the stairs, out onto to the street and right up to the fellow and said, "Hey you, what you think you're doing? Cut it out!" That's all I got out when he turned around, took hold of the front of my shirt and said, "I'll show you what I'm doing," and drew back his other hand.

            He was big and that fist looked bigger. All I could say was, "No, no, no, I was just passing by, I don't want any trouble." I looked around for my brother Frank and he was no where in sight. He just took off.

            It happened the fellow told me to take off and I sure got gone but I looked for ab out half an hour before I found my brother out back of the store hiding in the outdoor toilet. He sure wasn't much help to me when it came time I needed him. I wasn't fully grown yet and that fellow sure looked big when I got right up to him. My brother always did have plenty of nerve to start with but between the start and whatever the trouble was he always lost it and took off in some other direction and I was the one left holding the bag, and when he took of he could of won the world's fastest race as he was always outrun any of us with him and he always seemed to disappear into some hiding place. It was weird sometimes. Sometimes I thought he must of had some hiding place picked out ahead of time.

            I remember one time me and the fellow that owned the farm where we stayed decided to scare my brother. We wanted to walk to town that night. It was five miles if we followed the road, three and a half if we cut across. It was dark and my brother said he wouldn't take that short cut for anything. He decided to take the road and meet us in town so we let him go. We took the short cut and decided to wait for him where we came out to the road.

            It happened where we was to come out there used to be an old house. It was gone, just the old open cellar hole left, but we didn't know it.

            We stopped just before we got to the road and waited for my brother. The cellar hole was between us and the road, unknown to us.

            We soon heard him coming. He had a pair of knee high rubber boots on and a heavy long overcoat. He had his carbide light that he used in the mine for light.

            When he was about right we jumped up and started running and yelling. All at once we had the ground drop out from under s and we went down into this cellar hole on a pile of old dead brush. It was about an eight foot drop. The brush was dry and brittle and made a noise. At the same time the fellow with me started laughing and he had a high pitched voice. He could be heard a half a mile away.

            I never seen anyone take off like my brother did. I bet he took about three steps before he started moving. The wind kept blowing his light out. Every time he rubbed his hand across the flint to light it, it would make a little bang. That's all we could hear was bang, bang, bang and them rubber boots hitting the ground. The old coat was sticking right out straight behind him. Anyone could of played a game of checkers on it. An old care came by just bout then. they slowed down and kept him in the lights. He never stopped till he got into town. Boy, he sure called us some nice names all the rest of the night and the next day too.