The Blackfoot optimist. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1907-1918, 1913-09-25

his pocket, spun 1t by means Of an
imaginary string, then sent it aloft and
pretended to catch 1t dexterously. The
cowboys watched him with grave, un.
compromising eyes.
He starts with case five and rune
it up to eight thousand dollars, that's
ALL"
Slower uttered an exclamation Of
establishment, whereupon the New
Yorker grew even holder.
1.-THE next week he hops over to Bar
Harbor and wins the futurity ping.
worth twenty thousand If it's worth a
lead nickel. Oh, guess he's there, all
right" He searched out a match and
relighted his pipe.
II suppose he's great croquet play.
or, too," observed Fresno, whose face
was purple.
"Sure!" Glass winked at him, glad
to see that the Californian enjoyed
this kind of sport.
I'VE don't care nothin' about HE
skill at sleightof-hand tricks" said
the man in spectacles. seriously. "And
we wouldn't hold his croquet habits
agin him. Some men drink, some
gamble, some do worse: every man
has his weakness, and croQuet may be
his. What we want to know is this:
Can he win our monograph"
"Surest thing you know!"
Then you vouch for him, do your"
Willie's eyes were bent upon the fat
man with a look Of searching gravity
that warned Glass not to temporize.
with my life!" exclaimed the train
You're on!" said the cowboy. with
unexpected grimness.
What d you mean"
But before the other could explain
Berkeley Fresno, who had sunk weak
ly into a chair at Larry's extravagant
praise Of his rival. afforded diver
sion. The tenor had leaned back, con-
vulsed with enjoyment when. loring
his balance, he came to the floor with
. crash. The sudden sound brought
q terrifying result, for with q startled
cry the understood cowman leaped as
II touched by living fame. Like q
fash Of light he whirled and poised on
his toes, his long, evil-looking revolver
drawn and cooked, his tense face vul.
turelike and fierce. His eyes glared
through his spectacles, his livid fea-
lures worked as If at the sound of his
own death-call. His whole frame was
tense; q galvanic current had trans.
formed him. His weapon darted to-
ward the spot whence the noise had
come. and he would have fred blindly
had not Slower yelled:
Don't shoot!"
Willie paused, and the breath crept
audibly into his lungs.
who done that?" he asked, harshly.
Still Bill brought his lanky frame up
above the level Of the table.
God 'lmighty! don't be 80 sudden,
Willie!" he cried. 1T was q acct.
dent"
But the gun man seemed uncon-
vinced. With q cat-like tread he stole
cautiously to the door. and stared out
into the sunlight; then. seeing nobody
In sight. he replaced his weapon in its
resting place and sighed with relief.
II thought it was the marshal from
Waco" he said. He'll never git me
alive"
Slower addressed himself to Fresno.
who had gone pale. and was still pros
trate where he had fallen.
Get up, Mr.. Berkeley, but don't
make no more moves like that behind
. mans back. He most got YOU"
Fresno arose in a daze and mopped
his brow. mumuring. weakly: FL
didn't mean to-"
Carara and Mr.. Cloudy came out
from cover whittier they had ned at
Willie's first movement.
n dreamed about that Teller agin
last night" apologized the little man.
I'm sort Of nervous. and any sudden
noise sets me or"
Az for Glass. that corpulent indi-
vidual had disappeared as II into thin
air: only q stir in one of the hunks
betrayed his hiding place. At the
first sight Of Willie's revolver he had
dived for a refuge and was now nat.
tened against the wall, pillow
pressed over his head to deaden the
expected report.
"Hey!" called the foreman, but
Glass did not hear him. !
Seems to be gun-shy," observed
Willie. gently.
Slower crossed to the bunk and laid
q hand upon the occupant, at which a
convulsion ran through the trainers
soft body. and it became as rigid as
II locked in death. Come out, Mr..
Glass, it's all over"
Larry muttered in q stifled voice.
go 'way!"
1T was a mistake"
He opened his tight-shut lids, rolled
over, and thrust forth a round, pallid
face. He saw Slower laughing, and
beheld the white teeth Of Carara, the
Mexican, who said:
Perhaps the Senior Is sleepy!"
Finding himself the object Of what
seemed to him a particularly senseless
joke. the New Yorker crept forth, his
face suffused with anger. Strangely
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