True stories of old Houston and Houstonians: historical and personal sketches / by S. O. Young. Page: 159
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HOUSTON AND HOUSTONIANS 159
cottage was owned by a real "bad man," a killer, who was intensely
jealous of his wife. Just why he should have been jealous
of her no one could understand, for she was as ugly as a
brush fence. But he was jealous and took no pains to conceal
It was late in July when Mike got located, and everything
moved along smoothly until about the middle of August. One
very hot Sunday night Mike, being off duty, went to his room
and retired early. Unfortunately, that same Sunday night the
bad man's wife concluded to visit her mother over in the Fifth
Ward and the bad man himself concluded to get drunk. That
combination-was hard to beat, and, as a matter of fact, it was
The bad man arrived home about midnight, and, finding no
wife in his room, he instituted a search. Of course, he suspected
Mike at once. Going to Mike's door and finding it locked he
tried to kick it open. That got Mike out of bed in a hurry. The
man, finding he could not kick the door open, drew his pistol and
shot the lock off. But Mike was too quick for him.
Before he could get the door open Mike was out of the window,
out in the street and was well on his way to the banks
of the bayou. The man entered the room, shot under the bed
and into the wardrobe, but by that time Mike had buried himself
in the weeds on the bank of the bayou and was beginning to
realize what a fix he was in. He was safe, but he was clad
only in a thin summer undershirt that reached scarcely to his
hips. Aside from that undershirt he had not a stitch of clothes
on and he was barefooted. The moon was full and the night
was almost as bright as day. Such a thing as returning to his
room for his clothing never entered his head. If he could only
get to some friend's house he knew he could get some clothes,
but how to get anywhere was the problem.
Finally he crept along the bank of the bayou until he reached
the foot of Main Street, and then began working his way up
that highway. His progress was slow, because he had to hide
in doorways and behind barrels and boxes every time he saw any
one coming. At last he reached the Fox building, long after
midnight, skipped up the steps and appeared before the astonished,
lone night operator.
Mike explained the situation and persuaded the operator to
lend him his clothes so he could get out and rustle some for
himself. Mike, as everybody knows, is long and lank, while the
operator was somewhat squatty. Mike had to have clothes, however,
so he forced himself into the borrowed ones and started
out to find others. Unfortunately, he had a desire to refresh the
inner man, so he headed for the old Capitol bar, where he knew
the "barkeep." In the bar he met a number of his friends and
had to tell the story of his escape and take a drink so often that
he forgot all about the naked operator he had left in the office
and went to bed in the hotel, oblivious to everything. He slept
until midday, and when he awoke he realized what he had done.
Here’s what’s next.
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Young, Samuel Oliver. True stories of old Houston and Houstonians: historical and personal sketches / by S. O. Young., book, 1913; Galveston, Texas. (texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth24646/m1/159/: accessed February 20, 2018), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, texashistory.unt.edu; .