The Penn's Grove record., 1888-02-25
SPRINGSTEEL.

These objectionable epithets had
been neutrality-suspicious. in any
society, and only to be atoned with
blood in the wild code of the frontier.
Instantly the hand of each disputant
flew to his revolver, and the crowd be.
fore the gambling house bar swayed
back on either side for what was
deemed the Inevitable killing that must
ensue.
The quarrel was between Luke
Baldwin and Grant Battersby, sur
named ~Springsttel Grant, until re-
Gently ''pards" and chums, now,
through a moments difference and
those humiliating epithets on the part
of the former, apparently transformed
into enemies to the death.
Baldwin was a far faced youth of D.
or %, frank, generous and impulsIve ny
nature, though at present maddened by
liquor and a fancied indignity; his
opponent and whilom mentor, a veteran
frontiersman, priced as a friend dreaded
as a foe -cool card, Iron will, dead
shot.
Luke was the cleveyer In first whip
ping out bis revolver and bringing it to
. murderouS level-or "a 1t that the
other had purposely delayed the GUS
tomarily lightning like and deadly
movement on his own part.
Luke gave an exulting laugh.
''Springsteel, your games upl" he
sneered. "Lie down and take a bleedl'
'SnapI" the t%reacherous cartridge
had failed, the weapon missed fire.
Then, like a fash, the veteran shooter
flew to the level, the iron lines of his
handsome face frightened and darkened,
his gray eyes took on the cold glitter of
q steel blade in action.
There was not a movement In the
crowd of o%nlookers. '~'Springsteel has
got him dead, and it's his own fault
wa the general. If not expressed, YER
DICT, and you could have heard q pin
drop.
The prospective victim was game.
Though deathly pale, he had folded
his arms and stood waiting, without
hope, but without ninching.
Springsteel's invariable shot was for
the heart, and he had never been known
to miss or let W.
Was an unheard of miracle working,
or was that, indeed, a sOftness creeping
into b iron face, a mOistness into the
heretofore memorable eyes.
At all events, the shot was not fired;
the W, apOn was lowered and returned
to its receptacle.
Luke Baldwin," said Battersby,
with significant q~uietness, 'for the
present l give you back the life you
have forfeited, reserving my right to
CLAIM on demand the shot that is my
due. l could have bored a bullet
through you without conjunction, but
for the photography you wear over your
heart. That 1 could not n utilate-it
Is sacred"
He turned on his heel and strobe
away.
Luke Baldwin had sunk into a seat
and was looking dazed.
He was regarded as a temporarily
fortunate, though none the less doomed,
man; for there was no denying the
right that Battersby had reserved for
himself-a sort of quit claim or death
note on demand that was everywhere
recognized as the unwritten code of the
border, though the circumstances OF
the Indebtedness were at best unusual,
and in such a case as this unprecedent-
cd.
In fact, Springsteei's unlocked for
leniency, apart from the mysterious
allusion to the photograph, was the
wondering talk of an hour in Hank
Hammond's Deadwood hotel.
doubtless al Old time love scTape
between 'em. Mebbe they'd both loved
the same gal, an Springfield he'd given
up to the other Though not much on
Springsteel's style, ehf) an then she'd
died back there in the states, and that
was why they chummed 1t together so
long up. yonder in Scorpion Guich,
though Luke, never anything but a
freshly, an SpriDgsteel old enough to
be his dad"
Something like the foregoing was the
prevailing impression involved out of
the guesswork over the affair, aud then
it was forgotten.
Partly sobered, Luke Baldwin had
sought his room in the top story of the
hotel not far away.
He dropped into a chair beside the
wash stand-the only other piece of
furniture. barring the iron bedstead,
with its coarse provisions for a "tran-
sient's" ACKNOWLEDGEMENT a drink
AOh bAath bobeAC ludS hftu JSAst DtCD
sent up from the bar, and, by the light
Of a gluttering tallow candle, the only
artificial illumination with which sky
parior guests were supplied at the Ala
bama, as the hotel had been rather
ironically designated-with or without
intentiOn-fell to thinking hard.
How madly had he acted, how mar
row had been his escape from death,
and with what unexpected magnanim-
ity Springfield had behaved
Should he not seek him out at once
up at Spanish Peters pavilion, where
he was staying, acknowledge the fault,
and beseech his forgivenessp
No; he knew the nan too well.
While true in his friendships as the
significance of his surname as the
unapproachab.e spring steel of Damas-
Gus blade-he was also in enmlties. as
keen, as implacable, as deadly.
While Grant Battersby Mad never