The weekly intelligencer. [volume] (Lexington, Mo.) 1891-1901, 1891-07-18

better man. Even Mike 1uuOk, the
big Polander, saw it. He was viewing
the fray from an upturned beer keg i'll
front of Yankee Pete's saloon.
"Jim lick 'um, dam quick" he ejac-
ulated, and his words were prophetic.
In less than ten minutes Black Jake
was thoroughly and scientifically
.licked,'' and he knew 1t. He would
have fallen on his face again as he
staggered up after the last knock-down
blow, if some one had not giyen him an
arm to lean on. Through the blood
that blinded him he saw the crowd in
II red haze. But his reeling sight looked
for but one object, and his whole brain
and soul were filled with Il fierce and
dcvilish hatred for the man who stood
near with bruised face and barred arms
his conquercr.
Slocum's Patch had no sympathy for
Black Jake Murphy. As Il rule, the
Patch displayed no excessive fastidious-
ness us To the component parts of its
select society. IL had even got beyond
obiectingto to the Polander and lIunga-
rian. But with Jake Murphy and his
father il refused To associate on any
terms more friendly than those involv-
ed in imbibing Yankee Pete's whisky
at their expense. 1t could not be as
serted that either father or son was at
all discomposcd by this partial ostra-
ciSm. Ii rather seemed to suit their
sullcn and morose dispositions. They
did not seek the alurements of Slocum
Patch society, except on the rather
rare occasions when together they sat
down for II drinking bout at Yankee
Pete's. Then all those who chose
could drink ut their expense, and then
for the few hours their money lasted
none were more popular. Yankee Pete
did a land Office business and could
well afford the broken chairs and win
dows which usually ornamented his
grOggcry the next morning.
Black Jake said no word rs he turn
ed from the fray II beaten man and
staggered off toward his home. II was
rough cabin of battened hemlock
boards. The two men had built il
themselves on strip of company land
up on the hillside above the Patch.
They lived there alone, and from one
years end to another no one else cross
ed its threshold. Around it, in summer,
the soft breeze murmured among the
scraggy hemlocks and oaks. The wild
violet and honeysucklG gave out their
| fragrance. From its door the great
Wyoming Valley stretched away rs in
Il panorama. Pitvillc's many spires
rose not four miles away, and on still
Sunday morning the distant chime of
its bells was borne to the ear. Half Il
mile distant rose the massive timbers
that marked the opening of the new
Woodford shaft, the biggest and deep
est in all that region; where | 200 feet
below the sinkers had just struck the
red ash vein and were finishing theiI
contract.
The old man smoking his pipe on
his doorstep made no comment rs his
son washed the blood from his face al
the little spring near the door. AT las
he said:
"Who've yer been lickin' now?"
"No one" growled his son; "cursC
him, he licked me"
The old man gave II grunt.
'Who was it?' he asked.
"Jim Carroll"
"Sarye yer right. | told yer ter qui
foolin' round his gal. Easy huff to SEE
she thought more o. his little finge
than o. yer whole carcass
"God strike me dead eff don't have
his life"
1t was bitter threat that Blacl
Jake made, and the deadly hate tha
filled his heart made it no idle one.