The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1910-10-27

rdrIey Wnen hlncdlu SIOuiu hd'S
squared his account.
The leisurely chase led the round OF
the great gates first. and thence
through the deserted and ruined coke
yard to the foot of the huge Stag dump.
cold now from the long shutdown.
Tom looked to see Farley turn back
from the toe of the dump There were
no gates on that sid OF the yard. and
consequently no guards.
But the short cut to the office was
up the slope of the dump and along the
railway track over which the drawings
of molten Stag were run out to be
spilled down the face of the decllv-
ity. There had been no slag-drawing
since the new "blow-in" earlier in he
day; but while he was watching 70
keep Farley in sight in the intervals
between the g~as-fiares, Gordon vas
conscious of the note of preparation be-
hind him: the slackening of the blast.
the rattle and clank of the dinkey To-
connective pushing the dumping ladle
into place under the furnace lip.
Farley had aiken two or three
scrambling steps up the rough-seamed
decllvity when the workmen tapped the
furnace. There was a suffering roar
and the air was filed with c~oruscating
sparks.
Then the stream OF molten matter
began to pour INTO the great ladle. a
huge eight-foot pot swung on fitting
%trunnions and mounted on a skeleton
ist-car; and for Gordon, standing at
the corner Of the ore shed with his
back to the Stag drawers. the red glow
picked out the man scrambling I'D the
miniature mountain of COOLER scoria-
this man and another man running
swiftly to overtake him.
He looked on coldly until he saw
Kincaid head off the retreat and face
his adversary. Instantly there was a
squirt Of fire from a pistol in Farley's
righ. hand, a brief flash with the re-
port swallowed up in the roar from the
furnace lip. Then the two men closed
and rolled together to the bottom M
the slope. and Gordon turned his back.
When he looked again the
note OF the big blast-engines had
quickened TO its normal beat, the blow
hole was plugged with It's stopper of
damp clay, and a red twilight born of
the reflection from the surface of the
great pot of seething Stag had succeed
ed TO the binding glare. Where thera
had been two men locked in strugg,s
there was o only one, and he was
lying quietly with one leg double nm
der him. Gordon set his teeth in an
CRY disappointment Had Kinca.d
broken his compact?
The irst-long-drawn exhaust of the
dinkey engine moving the Stag KETTLE
out to its splitting place ripped the si-
lence. Gordon heard-and he did M,
hear: he was watching the prone fp-
ure at the dumps toe When 1t should
rise. he meant to fire from WHERE he
stood under the caves of the ore-shed
The murder-thought CONTEMPLATED
nothing picturesque or dramatic. II
was merely the dry thirst for the blood
of a mortal enemy
The pulling locomotive had pushed
the slag-pot halfway to the track-end
before Farley sat up as one dazed and
seemed TO be trying to get on his feet
Twice and once again he assayed IL.
falling back each time upon the bent
and doubled leg. Then he looked IN
and saw the slag-car coming; saw and
cried cut as men scream In the death
agony. The end rails of the dumping
track were fairly above him.
Gordon heard the yell OF terror and
witnessed the frenzie efforts of the
doomed man to rise and get out of the
path Of the impending torrent. Where
upon the murder demon whispered In
lis ear again. Farley's foot was caught
IN one OF the many sears or seams in
the lava bed. 1t was only necessary to
wait, to withhold the merciful bullet
to go away and leaves the wretched
man to his fate.
Like a bolt from the heavens. mo
the very midst OF the FLOODED.
murderous triumph, came a long-neg-
lected form of words. writing itself N
flaming letteds in his brain: Tho
shalt do no murder" And after it am
other: But I say unto you. love your
enemies, bless them that curse you, 10
good to them that hate you"
Something gripped HIM and before
he realized what he was doing he was
running. gasping. tripping and falling
headlong. only TO spring up and run
again, with all thoughts trampled out
and beaten down by one: would he
still be in time?
There was something wrong with the
dumping machinery of the slag-car.
and two men were working with it on
the side away from the splitting slope.
Gordon had not breath wherewith 10
shout; moreover, the sarety-valve was
still screeching to gulf all human cries.
Farley was lying face down and mo-
tionless, with the twisted foot still
held fast in a wedge-s,aped crack IN
the cooled Stag. Tom bent and lifted
him; yelled. tugged. strained. kicked
fiercely at the imprisoned 'shoeheel.
Still the vise-grip held, and the great
kettle on the height above was creak-
ing and slowly careening under the
winching of the engine crew. If the
molten torrent should plunge down the
slope now. there would be two human
cinders instead OF one.
Suddenly the frenzy. so alien to the
Gordon blood. spent itself, leaving him
cool and determined. Quite methodi-
caly he found his pocket-knife. and
he remembered afterward that he had
been collected enough to choose and
open the sharper Of the two blades.
There was a quick. sure slash at the
shoe-lacing and the crippled foot was
freed. With another yell. this time of
glad triumph. he snatched up his bur-
den and backed away with 1t in the
fitting half-second when the deluge IF
Stag. firing the very air with shrivelins
heat, was pouring down the slope.
Then he fell in a heap. with Farley
under him. and tainted as a woman
miSht-when the thing was done.
CHAPTER XVII.
Mr.. Vancourt Henniker was not
greatly surprised when Tom Gordon