Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1889-08-31

his fine blue eyes as he Kissed throu,a
his clenched teeth ::
aye, villains, you may well trem,
BILE, for the 'AveDger' is on your tracl
The chase has commenced, and I Iii
follow you to the end of the earth I
will never cease until the innocent !,
saved and I have dragged your vile-s
The detective felt powerful erasn
on his collar and pants, and he vas
hurled through the air, with terrific
relentless force. His iron nerve avail,
ed him naught against the powerful
enemy who had caught him in that
terrible grasp, and as he was hurled
violently to the earth cry escaped
him, q terrible wall. so loud and de-
sparing thatit must have made "Bleary-
Eyed Bill" turn green with envy.
All the tom-cats in the neighbor-
hood, with cries of dismay, and tails
standing in the air, sought more con-
genial chimes; frightful din came
from the hen-house, and, horrible to
relate, there were sounds of surprised
ordinations from within the residence
of Tommy Graves. The whole family
turned out to see what was wrong,
while the abashed detective heard Miss
Grace herself exclaim, in a voice of
mingled horror and disgust:
"Why, grandfather, was that ugly
little rag-muffin trying to break into
the store? 2"
Some conversation among those as
sembled followed. but the detective
heard it not. His great mind was
dazed and bewildered, his iron nerve
crushed.
Presently the detectives father ap-
preached him and seized an ear. The
gentleman before mentioned did the
same, and together they dragged him
homeward with cruel, relentless force.
Yet, in spite of all his reverses, the
indomitable spirit of the detective was
not entirely broken. He still retained
possession of his terrible weapon, and
he managed to draw it forth, at the
same time e1claiming, mechanically:
Halt, villains! I've got you Gov
ered!"
But at the same instant an extra
jerk on the ear, propelled by his
father, sent the weapon spinning from
his hand. As it struck the ground it
exploded, the improvised cylinder-pin
at the same time flying in one direc-
ton, the cylinder in another, and the
revolver in third, while the hammer,
loosened by some internal CONFUSION,
ratified helplessly in its place.
"Eh! What does this mean? The lit
tie rascal has got gun!" exclaimed
the father, and he gathered up the re-
volver and carefully deposited it in his
pocket. Again, with a meaning light
in his eye, he seized the detectives arm
and the latter was marched on in grim
silence. The paternal abode was
reached, the gentleman friend babe
them goodnight, and the detective was
left alone with his father.
But the look on the latter's face only
became more stern and determined,
his grasp frmer and more relentless.
As he dragged "Old Thunderbolt, +"
hopeless and dispirited, into the house,
he cried, in voice of thunder:
"Maria Jane, where is the paddle ?"
Maria Jane brought that implement
of torture with alacrity. It was an
ugly-looking weapon, fully three feet
long, and the blade at least six inches |
wide.
"Old Thunderbolt" was led to his
room in the same manner as before,
and his father took chair. Knowing
well what was coming, the detective
despairing cry.
A malicious, almost fendish smile
played for an instant over the face of
the stern parent. Then the detective
was again caught up by the collar and
pants and thrown across his knee, face
down. The bludgeon was raised, poised
for an instant in the air, and
Over the narrowing scene that fol.