came to church with the family but I knew him to be a large dark-haired man with a certain gregarious air about him. Mrs. Malley was the one all the children looked like. She was even smaller than her twin daughters and lent all of the children her fair skin and blonde hair. My mother knew Mrs. Malley to speak to because of church work and I heard the Malley name mentioned occasionally at our supper table.

Patrick was small for his age and seemed to be patterned after his mother. His hair was blonde and he had the same complexion. He gave you the impression of skinnyness. His hands and feet were on the small side and his voice had not yet changed from its childhood pitch. I recall that he sang as a soprano that year in the Sunday School choir. In spite of these traits he was known around the neighborhoods and up at Warner Park as a tough kid and a good fighter. He once beat Larry Conrad in a fair fist fight after school. I did not see the fight but I know Larry Conrad was at least a year older than Patrick and larger in size as well. I think Patrick had a temper and when he was really mad it was best to leave him alone. From our scrub games at the park I can testify to his athletic prowess. He had a good fielder's mitt and was very fast and agile. He usually played shortstop or the outfield. Sometimes he pitched. He did not have a lot of power at bat but he got his share of hits.

Until that year I never paid much attention to Patrick and I am certain he was never particularly aware of my presence. As I have implied how- ever, that situation was destined to change. It happened in the Fall of the year after we had returned to school. October came and it was time for Halloween. The church sponsored a big costume party for the children and teenagers in Sunday School. That year Halloween was on a Monday and the party was to be the Saturday before. My sister being a senior in high school then had no particular desire to attend. The older kids were always invited but they seldom came. For my own part I was looking forward more to roaming the streets on Monday night with a gang of friends in quest of popcorn balls, candy bars and a good prank or two. Going to the Sunday School costume party was all right but I had been there nearly every year since I could remember and the experience was growing monotonous. There were always the traditional organized games and prizes all supervised by a very proper squad of church ladies. However, the food they provided was usually excellent fare and that alone was reason enough to put on my old pirate's costume and go again.

When that Saturday arrived I went fishing on the White River with my father early in the morning. We stayed the day and did not return until late in the afternoon. Then there were fish to clean and fishing gear to put

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