A Missing Poolball

Ben Totten keeps the tavern at Dry Run, Pa. AYheii tbe railroad waa built through thatbailiwick a few yearsago, the Dry Run boys took to going to other places as much as 20 miles away to see the sights and learn things. Ainong other things they learned was pool, and to keep thein from being led astray in strange places Ben Totten put a pool table in his tavern, and since then the boys have staid mostly at home and patronized Ben's table. Two years ago a bushwhaeker carne into Dry Run with a 2-months' old bear cub. Ben took a fancy to the little chap and bought him. He got to be a great pet. He grew like a weed and hadn't been more than a fortnight about the place before everybody noticed that he was fascinated by the roll and clatter of the poolballs. First he climbed on chairs so he could see the game going on and would watch the game by the hour, with every sign of the greatest enjoyinent. By and by he got big enough to stand on his hind feet and see the play as well as any of the bystanders. He was lots of fun for the boys, and they named hini Sport. But they were not prepared for the way the bear developed and wouldn't believe jt until it was brought so plain before their eyes that they might as well have said they didn't believe there was suchathing as pool. Before he was 6 months old the bear knew all the points of the game and got so that he wouldn't look on at a game if the players were green or poor ones, but after seeing a shot or two would go off to his corner in disgust and go to sleep. But he would sit up all night for a good game. "But we hadu't begun to know that bear yet," says Ben Totten. "One night along late in the summer after everybody had quit and gone home, I went out on the stoop to smoke a cigar before I went to bed. Pretty soon I hearcl the poolballs clicking. I glaneed in through the open window, and there was Sport with a cue in his paws, dancing about the table and pegging away at the balls. It was a comical sight, and I was having a good laugh all to myself, whenall at once niv merriment gave wavto a sort of awe, and í gazed in at that bear with my mouth wide open and my eyes staring, for I discovered that he wasn't punching the balls around in a haphazard and aimless way, but was putting up about as scientific play at pool as I had ever seenl He was holing the balls not only by simple and easy line shots, but was tackling difficult combinations and doing artistic cross table and cushion shots with the skill and accuracy of a champion. "By and by I recovered myself sufficiently to get up and go inside. Sport hurried to put up bis cue and looked sheepish. Then he started to go away, but I called him back and coaxed him into a game with me. He beat me seven straight games and fchen took six balls off and put 'cm in my rack and wanted me to play him with that o'i'4.5 jn niy favor, but I hadn't the cheek to do it. "Well, of course, after that Sport was the greatest man in Dry Run, but after the Dovelty wore off I shut down on his playng pool, except exhibition games now and then, because my wife said he was getting the big head so bad that he kicked about running the cliurning machine, which was one of his chores about the place. "Joe Benson used to come over from the county seat every little while looking for fun with the boys. Joe has the reputation of being a little too slick with cards, and when he plays pool the balls generally run the way he wants 'em to. He had lots of fancy tricks with the balls, too, and Sport used to watch Joe punch theni about with an anxious and a jealous eye. A couple of weeks ago Joe and Bill Flynn, a partner of his, drove over to my place. They staid late and tired everybody out. Everybody went home but them, and I was wishing they would go so I could shut up when Joe said he'd bet me $50 he could pocket the cue ball and the 15 ball in three shots after the break. I have every reason now to believe that Sport had seen Joe do this, for when Joe bantered meto bet the bear slyly pulled me by the coat and scowled. But I had a little in that night and took the bet. Sport went off to his corner disgusted. "The balls werebroke, and just then some one called me into the barroom. I went out, and while I was waiting on the customer Joe and Bill carne out and had a drink. Then we went back to the table. Sport was huddled up in his corner, too much disgusted with me apparently to watch the game. It was Joe's shot. He looked over the table and then looked at me in a peculiar way and said: " 'Whpre's that 15 ball?' "Tüen I looked over the table. The 15 ball wasn't among the others. It was there when I went out, and I thought its position wasn't very favorable for Joe. I knew Joe's reputation and at once concluded that he had swiped the missing ball so that he could claim there was uo 15 ball there to pocket and make the bet a draw. " 'Joseph,' said I, 'tliat 15 ball was on the table when I went out. This won't do. Play or pay!' "Joe kicked, and Bill Flynn kicked, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Besides that, Sport had got up and was acting a little ugly, and the two sharpers went away without their $50 or mine. The next day was churning day, and in the morning my wife caiue to me and said: " 'Sport's all doubled up with cranips or Bomething and is too sick to churn.' "I went out, and sure enough there was the bear almost tied in a knot. The more we doctored hini the worse he seemed to get, and he was a dead bear before night. I sent for Jim Blake, the butcher, to come and take the poor fellow's hide off. Akng in the forenoon Jim carne in and said: " 'It's durn little wonder that bear died. See what I found inside of him.' "When I saw what it was, I almost fainted, and at once sent Joe Benson's $50 to him and apologized. It was the missing 15 poolball. Poor Sport! He had meant well. but his digestión wasn't eoual to his intentions.'