a

Hugh Tatum, the town marshall, behind the wheel. Tatum was a gross man, with thick, blubbery lips, red bulbous nose and fleshy jowls. He weighed about 250 pounds.

Charlie averted his face and kept walking. Tatum jumped out of the car, quick despite his size, and seiz- ed Charlie's arm. In a panic, Charlie tried to tear himself loose. Suspicious, Tatum said, "Let's just see who you are, girlie.

11

Seizing the purse Charlie carried he searched it thoroughly, finding the usual stuff a girl would have-- lipstick, compact, hankie, some money--but no driver's license or other identification. This seemed to enrage Tatum.

"No identification, hey?" he said. "You must be one of them big city chippies. Let's go for a little ride.'

Tatum drove a couple of blocks to a dark alley, where he turned off the lights and made Charlie get in the back seat, climbing in with him. Charlie felt Tatum's lips slobbering on him.

"No! No!" he whimpered in a whisper, struggling to get loose.

"Just take it easy, girlie, " Tatum said, placating- ly, his hamlike hands fumbling under Charlie's skirts. Then harshly, "Why, you ain't no girl at all. You're one of them big city queers. I'll teach you to come to my town.

Charlie's breath was nearly crushed out of him by Tatum's weight. He struggled harder and Tatum slapp- ed him. He lay sobbing, them screamed in pain. Tat- um laid a big hand over his mouth to muffle his scream, and he fainted. When he returned to consciousness Tatum was kicking him out of the car. He lay sobbing with pain as Tatum drove off growling, "Get back to the big city, you queer, and don't ever let me catch you in my town again.

*

For an eternity of agony Charlie walked, till he

56.