Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1911-10-28

done fetched 'em up heah and laid 'em
on 70 bed" said Eph. preparing to
withdraw
II certainly am obliged to YOU said
Hannibal. and with good night, Eph
retired, closing the door after him,
and the boy heard the patter OF his
bare feet as he scuttled down the hall
The moon was rising and Hannibal
went to the open window and glanced
out. His room overlooked the back
yard OF the inn and neglected truck
patch. Starting from a point beyond
the truck patch and leading straight
away to the woodland beyond was
fenced lane, with the corn-field and
the pasture-lot on either hand. Imme-
diately below his window was the
steeply slanting roof Of she'd For
moment he considered the night, not
unaffected by its beauty. then, turn
ing from the window, he moved the
bundle and rifle to the foot OF the bed,
where they would be out OF the way,
kicked off his trousers blew out the
candle and lay down. The gossip OF
the men in the bar ran like whisper
through the house, and with 1t came
frequent bursts Of noisy laughter.
Listening for these sounds the boy
dozed off.
Yancy had become more and more
convinced as the evening passed that
Murrell was bent on getting him drunk
and suspicion mounted darkly to his
brain. He felt certain that he was
Bladen's agent. Now, Mr.. Yancy took
an innocent pride in his ability to
"cool off liquor" Perhaps it was some
heritage from a well-living ancestry
that had hardened It's head with Port
and Madeira in the days when the
Yancys owned their acres and their
slaves Be that as it may, he was equal
to the task he had set for himself. He
saw with satisfaction the flush mount
to Murrell's swarthy cheeks, and felt
that the limit of his capacity was be-
ing reached. Mr.. Slosson had become
a sort of Greek chorus. He anticipated
all the possible phases OF drunken
ness that awaited his companions. He
went from silence to noisy m1rtn'
when his unmeaning laughter rang
through the house; he told long wit
less stories as he leaned against the
bar; he became melancholy ana de-
scribed the loss of his wife five years
before From melancholy he passed TO
sullenness and seemed ready to fasten
a quarrel on Yancy, but the latter
deity evaded any such issue.
what you-all want is another
drink" he said affably. with all you
been through you need a tonic, SO
shove along that extract OF corn
shucks and molasses!"
"T'm a rip-staver," said Slosson
thickly. "But I've knowed enough sor-
row to kill horse"
Have drink with met" cried Sos
son. giving away to drunken laughter.
. Don't you reckon you'll spile 70,
appetite TO- breakfast. neighbour" sug-
gested Yancy.
do you mean you wont drink WIN
me?" roared Slosson.
"The captains dropped out and !
low It's about time TO- these here les
tivities to come to an end. I'm think
ing some of going to bed myself" said
Yancy. He kept his eyes fixed on Muir
rell. He realized that IL the latter could
prevent 1t he was not to leave the
! bar. Murrell stood between him and
the door; more than this. he stood be.
tween him and his rifle, which leaned
against the wall in the far corner of
the room. Slosson roared out a protest
to his words. That's all right, neigh
hor," retorted Yancy over his
shoulder, "but I'm going to bed" He
never shifted his glance from Muir
rell's face. Scowling now, the captains
eyes blazed back their challenge as he
~. 4, 81. ,.i<~ Lo~ n a
Fair play--I don't know who you are,
hut I know what you want! said
.Yancy. the light in his frank gray eyes
deepening. Murrell laughed and took
a forward step. At the same moment
Slosson snatched up a heavy club from
back Of the bar and dealt Yancy q
mnrderous blow. A single startled cry
escaped the Scratch Hitler; he struck
out wildly as he lurched toward Muir
rell, who drew his knife and drove 1t
Into his shoulder.
Cropping wildly, Yancy reached his
rifle and faced about. His scalp lay
open where Slosson's treacherous
blow had fallen and his face was COW
cred with blood: even as his fingers
stiffened they found the hammer, but
Murrell. springing forward, kicked the
gun out Of his hands. Dashing the
blood from his eyes, Yancy threw him
K self at Murrell. Then, as they stag
gered to and fro, Yancy duly bent on
strangling his enemy, Slosson--who
the sight Of blood had wonderfully
sobered-rushe out from the bar and
let loose a perfect torrent of blows
with his club. Murrell felt the fingers
that gripped him grow weak, and
Fancy dropped heavily to the floor.
How long the boy slept he never
knew. but he awoke with start and a
nnnfusad idea Of thinpa He Eaemed to