The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1910-12-16

| grcater-that he had como to ming
their misfortunes into the faces of the
father and the son. and to tell them
that the work was his. He heard only
the voice of the savage in his heart.
and that was whispering, xiii! kill"
! It was close on midnight when tha
door giving on the porch opened and
| the two men stood on the threshold.
| The younger of the two was speaking.
| IT'S Quieter than usual tonight.
/ That was a good move-getting Lud-
low and the two Helgersons jailed.
| was in hopes we could snaff1e old Ca
Ieb with the others. He pretends to be
peacemaking, but as long as he Is loose,
these fools will hang to the idea that
they're fighting his battle against us.
| 1T is already fought" said the older
man, dejectedly.. my luck has gone.
| When Henniker puts us to the wall.
we shall be beggars."
The young mans rejoinder was an
| exclamation of contempt.
| you've lost your nerve. What you
need most is to go to bed and sleep.
Wait for me till I've made round Of
the guards, and we'll go home. Better
|
He left the porch on the side near
est the furnace, and Gordon saw an
| active figure glide from the shelter of
| flask shed and go in pursuit. He
| followed at distance. 1t was needful
| only that he should know where to find
Farley when Kincaid should have
| 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 ba ok
| from the toe of the dump. There were
no gates on that side 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 decliv-
ity. There had been no Stag drawing
since the new "blow-in" earlier In the
| day; but while he was watching, TO
keep Farley in sight in the intervals
between the gas-flares, Gordon was
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 taken two or three
| scrambling steps up the rough scanned
declivity when the workmen tapped the
furnace. There was q sputtering roar
and the air was filled with coruscating
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
hat-car; and for Gordon. standing 1T
| the corner Of the ore shed with his
back to the Stag drawers, the red glow
picked out the man scrambling up tho
miniature mountain of cooler scoria-
| this man and another man running
swiftly to overtake him.
| He looked on coldly until he saw
| Kincaid head OF the retreat and face
his adversary. Instantly there was a
squirt Of fire from a pistol in Farley's
right hand, q 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 of
the slope, and Gordon turned his back.
| When he looked again the trampling
| note Of the big blast-engines had
| quickened to its normal beat, the blow
hole was plugged with its 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 there
had been two men locked in struggle
| there was now only one, and he was
lying quietly with one leg doubled I'M
| der him. Gordon set his teeth in an
cry disappointment. Had Kinca: id
| broken his compact?
| The first-long- drawn exhaust Of the
dinkey engine moving the Stag kettle
| out to its splitting place ripped the ST.
lence. Gordon heard-and he did not
| hear: he was watching the prone fir-
ure at the dumps toe. When it 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 pufing locomotive. had pushed
the Stag pot halfway TO the track end
before Farley sat up a. one dazed and
seemed to be trying to get on his feet
Twice and once again he assayed IT,
falling back each time upon the bent
and doubled leg. Then he looked ur
and saw the slag-car coming: saw and
cried out 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 frenzied efforts OF the
doomed man to rise and get out OF the
path Of the impending torrent. Where
upon the murder demon whispered II
i. his ear again. Farleyss foot was caugh
in one Of the many sears or seams II
the lava bed. II was only necessary <
wait. to withhold the merciful bullet
to 90 away and leaves the wretchet
J man to his fate
, Like Z bolt from the heavens. init
the very midst OF tho cold -blooded
murderous triumph. came e long-neg'
lected form Of words. writing itself y
. flaming letteds Ia his brain: Tho,
! shalt do no murder" And after It an
! other: but say unto You, love you
! enemies, bless them that. curse you. q
good to them that hate you"