The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1911-12-03

behind the desk of the precinct station
at the first shout which arose on the
street. After years of service at the
same station deep in the city's heart,
he could always distinguish, even
above the clatter and roar of traffic,
that quality in a sudden uproar which
indicated danger or disturbance of
the peace.
As he rushed to the door, with old
Ben, the turnkey, pottering slowly in
his wake he felt from sheer force Of
habit for his rear hip pocket to see
that his revolver was handy In case It
might be needed; and he swore vigor-
ously to himself as it flashed across
his mind that he had left 1t in the
Lieutenant's locker-and that the
Lieutenant was then out for lunch.
When he reached the door, after
three hasty strides, he swore again and
then uttered warning yell to some
children, who, bewildered by the cry
arising up the street, were standing
doubtfully in the gutter.
"Git in some store, there! Hurry,
youse!"
In one glance he had grasped the
situation. Half a block away, with
head high lifted, tail lashing its TANKS
and stepping swiftly forward a few
mincing steps at time, was steer
one of the swift, rangy animals which
occasionally escaped from the shipping
yards, a couple of blocks away, and
had their last taste of wild freedom in
the city streets. Sometimes these anil
mails, frightened and blinded by the
roar and changing view about them
after their long journeys from the
West, were easily rounded up and
driven back by attaches of the yard.
Sometimes they ran amuck in a wild
fit of desperation induced by terror.
And his first glance told the Sergeant
that this steer was of the latter kind.
He sure means troubled" groaned
the Sergeant, frantically glancing
about the station to discover a weapon.
Got gun, Benz"
y Without waiting for the old mans
mumbled reply in the negative, the
Sergeant snatched up a heavy night
stick, only to throw 1t down with a
crash to pick up the rusty poker of the
massive stove, which stood cold and
detected in the corner of the big, bare
room throughout the summer The
poker was huge affair, and, in case
of necessity, he reflected, he could stun
steer with it. In the meantime, he
sfluently blam ed himself for leaving his
revolver in the locker. He had placed
lit there, after cleaning, to give a free
sadose Of oil a chance to loosen the ac-
tion which had become frightened with
rust.
Ready as he was to do his duty, the
Sergeant paused with a critical eye as
he reached the open door. He was per-
fectly willing to attack the steer with
his simple weapon IL need arose for
it. But he was also prepared to bide
the arrival of aid If 1t could be done
without danger to passersby. For he
knew that to assail the huge brute,
which stood paving the street. sweep
ings, piled in the gutter, all the while
looking about in readiness for instant
assault on any thing or person which
seemed offensive, would be desperate
affair indeed.
Vigorous shouts from the Sergeant
and Ben scared back two little girls
who were about to cross the street.
One man. issuing absent-mindedly from
the swinging door of saloon, glanced
up just in time, upon hearing the cho-
rus of yells from the heads which
fringed all the windows In the block, to
leap wildly back to his refuge. He
dashed through the swinging door just
as one thousand pounds of beef and
bone hnrtled in his direction. Had he
been obserYant, like Sergeant Collins,
he doubtless would have breathed
thanks that his pursuer was of the
long-horned variety of range cattle.
One eager, searching horn barely
reached his coat tails as he passed
through the door. The other spread
ing out widely, caught on the
door jamh and snapped off-but it
stopped the rush, although the big
brown and white body was whirled
sideways by the force of its own i'm
pact, banging against the brick wall
as the steer slipped on the sidewalk.
The swinging doors, slamming on its
nose at the same moment, evidently
startled the animal, which backed off,
snorted loudly and eyed the door men
scingly from the gutter.
II he's going to start chargin'
around here" muttered the Sergeant,
with a glance at the low store fronts
on all sides, through which the refu-
gees were peering, "it's goin to be bad.
Or If he goes after thin horses
He glanced to the next block where
long line of drays were drawn up,
the horses plaCidly eating their noon
day meal, while their drivers, hastily
arisen from the shady side of the
building where they had been eating
their lunch, were watching the excite
ment on the block and keeping within
safe distance of the factory doors.
"It'll be bad" the Sergeant repeated,
as he took fresh grip on the poker
and started forth. Then he stopped
with a sigh of relief. On the opposite
corner, sprinting toward the steer with
his revolver already in his hand, was
young Policeman Farrell, just elevated
to become a patrolman, after service
as q probationary.
Don't waste timel He's dangerousi
Let him have it," yelled the Sergeant.
policeman Farrell turned a counte-
nance toward him which was wreathed
In smile of joyous excitement. He
waved hand of recognition across
the street and dropped to brisk walk
as be approached the steer.
He goes at him quick enough" re-
marked the Sergeant, with note of
admiration in his voice: "but the boy
oughtn't to go that close. He could
drop that damned brute fron where he
is.