The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1913-05-06

/ job 1n the yard. They'll kill him if he stays in there"
 Mike understood without the translation "No, no, I quit-a da gang" He started for the door, stopped and back. "I ikea you," he said reaching out big paw and shaking hands with the foreman. He turned and went decisively into the foundry
 The coremakers punched together as Mike came back to the gang, but he gave them hardly glance as he picked up F.s scoop shovel and work.
 The cable quickly repaired, and the clash of the machinery hunmed and roareds with the rush of the days work Sudden death-coming, as it often did, to the foundry-occupied but a few no Inents of the mems time crushing grind of the work demanded their undivided attention; lack of vigilance, moments thoughlessness, might mean the snufdng of their own lives.
 The superintendent, wearing linen duster to pro- tect his clothes, met by the foreman as he came into the foundry. He listened in doubtful silence to the forernan's suspicious.
 And you really think they roped him to the cable and he broke it by main strength?"
 T certainly believe it, although have no means of proving it." answered the foreman, stoutly.
 impossible, man; impossible. Why, there isn't human being living that could do thatn and the, superintendent went his way leaving the foreman biting his lip in chagrin.
 All day as Mike worked the constant rasp of his clothes against his ropeburned flesh kept the idea constantly before him that these men with whom he tried to be friends had planned and attempted to kill him. For what he did not know or how if was done for it had all happened so quickly that fe did not remember whether it was Manila hemp or steel rope that had wrapped itself about his body but he had growing belief that they were respon- sib1e
 The coremakers soon began to sense portent of danger in the change that came ever the demeanor or the itallan 1t caused them to walk warily and leave him alone. Even Moran forgot to sheer, and glanced n his direction But during the hour there was gathering of the gangs the canal bank lunch. -'4S ny @' ''is'' ad dhs s Saeheo5s N; xas late again that night flsTa elased him without looking up from his desk he throat; he lifted him up and damned him back into
 fe5 PiiS ne 9s' aef fs sfssh you affs glanced up the street at the saloon sign T guess go now, drink-a for whiskey. at Sweeney's," dirty yellow house two blocks from the foundry. with th se of eap eef th and m SaTt & P5 EseSd @ air was heavy with tobacco smoke, the sawdust- juice and filtered with bread crusts and bologna skins from the free lunch
 clothed in coarse woolen trousers, belted at the and brd sreegeless t % @ the threat muscles bulged through the fesh the skin their drawn tight across the cheek bones from lifting and straining at heavy weights. They were hard-faeed, syllables eolored with hard, explosive oaths. the low doorway the 1oud-voiced talk suddenly silenced and the glared him. raising on toes,
 Mistakng the ominous silence for fear or friend satp Nike smiled as he stepped to the bar and said
 The short : buet-hesded man back of the bar spun glass oSsr fo h Not move OF Pa sound was there as Mike filled and raised his glass.
 As his lips touched the liquor the door slammed shut the glass was knocked from his hand and he staggered sidewise from blow the neck. Before he could recover himself they upon him.
 Two of them he caught in his great hands and flung crashing against the mirror. But they many for him; fierce brutal fighters, they swarmed over him like pack of wolves; battered and bore him to the floor amid the wreck of the bar and
 He fell fighting, his back against the overturned bar hoarse voice called harsh command, and the man cingng to his throat loosened his hold and Taked Mites foTehead sending the blood streaming into his eyes. Pulling his head forward avoid the next kick he jerked his right arm free and slid his hand came with upward twist, and the his waist, striking him foul groaned and rolled Again he dodged the boot-hee, at the same time raking upward with his hand A scream of agony from Moran, who had kicked, and he doubled back the floor, trying to close with his hands the gaping knife-wotnd.
 roaring for vengeance. The lust of the killer was him, he Iunged at the dodging Farley, missed, and went crashing through the himsy door into the street. and looked wildly about him From the saloon came cries, curses and groans bullet whizzed close to his head, another scored red streak across hie
 Children scattered and bawled women screamed his heels Of these things he took no heed. His one thought was to run to get away as far as possible and cried calling on the Virgin to help him.
 Behind him the sound of pursuers swelled. and
 Timothy O'Rourke, newly appointed policema.s respIendent in uniform and brass buttons, his ton, standing the far end of the canal bridge when he saw Mike Drawing his pistol he stepped
 As the big Italian reached the bridge, O'Rourke not seem to see or hear but knife in hand, blood spattered he rushed straight stopped and flung out his arm, sending the knife spinning One hand cutched at his breast the other pistol