St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1907-09-18
PETE'S
BAD HOUR.
By FRANK II. SWEET.
Copyrighted, 1907, by P. c. Eastment.
By FRANK H. SWEET.

freight yards, ScramDlng under the
cars on all fours Then, ascending to
the top of the box car with the agility
of cat, he lay painting beside the
footboard.
The city rose from the yards as from
an amphitheater. They were bathed
In dust, though red cash still showed
in the west where the hostile sun with
drew after a day that had filed the
hospitals. The heat was intensified by
reflection from the labyrinth Of rails
and the metal of the rolling stock.
A switch engine coughed unseen far
down the yards, where harsh, jarring
sounds accompanied the shunting and
coupling Of cars. Lanterns danced and
fickered in jerky undulations.
Pete was saturated with perspiration.
He pressed his chest against the slope
of the car roof, where it fell away from
the footboard, to still the pounding of
his heart His temples throbbed, his
mouth was dry as ashes, and he
breathed with wheezy sobs. Yet in
the midst of his torture, he listened
with a sense so sharpened by preda
tory habit and present danger that the
physical consciousness of it added to
his pain.
As yet he dared not move. Voices
hoated to him, muffled and indiStinct,
and he strained his ears to catch what
was being said, or, failing that, to
gather from their tones some clew to
the identity Of the speakers. A burst
of laughter relieved him. The police
would not laugh.
The revolver, thrust into the tight
hipped trousers that he wore in COM
mon with his type, pressed against his
ribs as he lay on it. He drew it out
and placed it under the footboard with
in easy reach. There were still three
cartridges in it. The other two had
done their work-done it WELL he hoped,
with a grim tightening of his thin lips.
Mulligan had been looking for it
since the section mems down the river
picnic, when Pete proved himself the
better man, as everybody had de-
clared. Mulligan deserved it too
Couldn't he have taken a beating
without making such rumpus about
it and then spinning Old Man Leary
whole string of lies? And Leary
was just on the point of adding his
consent to Norahs and letting them hit
it off together on the next picnic down
the river. Even the priest had been
spoken to with Leary's knowledge.
Oh, WE'LL there was no use whining
about it now. Mulligan was soft on
Norah, too, as everybody knew, and
that was the real bone Of contention,
and Mulligan was brother-in-law to
the section boss, who was supposed to
have a pull with the division superin-
tendent himself. The end was as
plain now as If pronounced in the
crisp tones Of a judges sentence.
MuIligan was in the doctors hands
and good for at least month in the
hospital When he came out he would
marry Norah, who would be mad
through the lies told her, and-and-
well, he, Pete, would either have to
skulk around in hiding or give himself
up and take his medicine. And, of
course, he had forever lost all chance
of a job on the road with Mulligan.
u Pete dug his nails into his palms and
writhed. Remorse he had none He
would have done it all over again.
What had happened was, from his
viewpoint, inevitable, the one honor
able thing. He would resist to the
last of course Now that Norah was
lost to him, what was the use of liv-
ing?
They would search the freight yards
though they seemed to have lost the
scent. The growing darkness favored
him. Perhaps he might venture now
on change of position.
He raised his head. The switch en-
CINE still puffed, and the uneasy re-
Election Of lanterns glimmered in spots,
their bearers hidden by intervening
cars The tracks shook with the vi
bration of trains passing on the main
line. To the north a massive bridge
overhung the yard where it narrowed.
Under the arc light that snapped and
fickered above it two policemen were
posted. their faces blue black under
the shadow Of their summer helmets.
He was about to descend between
the cars when the sound of approach
ing feet arrested Linn even as his hand
closed upon the top rung of the iron
ladder to swing off. He noiselessly
cooked the revolver.
The car door rolled open. There was
q scramble and the crack of a match
within. Pete lowered his weapon and
peered downward just as dark form
emerged from the interior, closely fol
lowed by a second There was thai
in each stumbling figure which needed
no more than outline to declare the
| tramp.
They stood leaning with their backs
| against the sill.
Hes goin' to croak," asserted on'
| of them. "Me for Beertown."
you've lost your nerve. It's pothin
but the heat, l seen kids like that be
FORE"
81 tell We he's goin' to croak," reiter
ated the first voice. "Listen to hin
breathe"
| n,horo ,,,A, n sho,t s;lonoo