The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1914-07-15


out" assented Jim, with more OF
warmth and life than he had shown
before, land let me know who 1t Is. !
guess two years won't make me love
him more"
His father turned and passed into
the light of the free air, while the son
looked after him with a scowl Of
dreadful hate.
Smarter Kelly plugged doggedly
alongside the railroad track and medi-
tated on ugliness. Even apart from
the dismal desert landscape he had
plenty Of material for meditation, for
to achieve ugliness had been the am
bition of his degenerate life, and in
that, at least, he had not failed.
But it's the boy, Jim, with whom
this story is chiefly concerned. The
Smarter had built up fond hopes Of
being mighty proud Of Jim, for at an
early age Jim showed himself an apt
pupil in the lessons of ugliness which
his fond parent constantly instilled.
One day, the time, in the estimation
OF the Snarler, being ripe for more
definite instruction in the training of
his offspring, he had preached unto
Jim the pulling Of a pretty bit Of vii.
lainy which was to nourish his own
empty exchequer and start the young
man upon his natural career.
The boy listened until the man was
through, his eyes on the ground and
his accustomed scowl knitting his
brow. Then he looked up.
That's thieving, amt it," he in
CURED
The Snarler was little taken aback
for moment. To qualify things had
never occurred to him.
Sure, Nike" he said uneasily.
Then count me out" growled Jim.
So the kid refused his career, and
the Smarter, after hiding his disgust in
three days of oblivion, resumed his
with the careful cowardice Of the petty
sneak thief.
But at length there came a time
when, tempted by a seemingly easy
opportunity into larger operation, cow
ardice overreached care, and the trail
became too hot for Snarler's peace of
mind. And so, with simple cunning,
he had pulled the trick that saved him
and sent his son to Jail.
Certainly it was upon ugliness that
Snarler medtated as he plugged dog
gedly alongside the railroad track.
Night drew in, and in the distance he
saw against the dark sky the painting
glare Of an engines exhaust.
Ten minutes later he had swung
himself thankfully into the open box
car. He struck match to find his
bearings, and found himself staring
into the barrel of big revolver, too
dazed to do anything but hold the
match.
The other came to his relief with a
short laugh. That's all right, bo,"
said he. Il thought maybe you was a
shack, an I'll put a shack's light out
before I'll hit the ties and starve in
this desert. I'm tough guy, am"
II don't blame you," agreed the
Snarler 81 was kicked off myself,
yesterday, after I'd lost my gun. If
hadn't lost tim a tough guy my
SELF" he finished significantly.
Overhead there was the sound of
heavy shoes. Then there was the
flicker of light With easy strength
a brakeman had swung himself into
the car, his lantern slung by string
around his neck.
Hit the gravel!" he growled, as he
held the light on them.
Beat it." snapped the tramp, push
ing his big gun into the foreground.
But 1t was Kelly on whom the brake
mans eye rested, and he lowered his
lantern quickly.
Beat 1t, dye heart" again ordered
the gunman.
Suddenly the brakeman dropped to
one knee. Like flash his hand was
In and out of his overalls pocket. The
gunman's, bullet went high and passed
through the open door, but the train
mans shot took the other between the
eyes, and he lurched forward-dead.
With hardly look at him the brake
man turned his gun upon the Snarler.
Turn around an put your hands be-
hind your back" he ordered.
The Snarler laughed, a trifie uneas.
lily and sheepishly.
What's the matter, JIM" said he
Don't you know your old dad? You
sure are an ugly guy"
And Jim put his face close 70 his
fathers "You bet know YOU An
you bet I'm an ugly guy. You trained
me in ugliness, an I'm learning every
day. Your names scratched on This
gun, an there's a sheriff at the next
stop. It's an ugly circle, an you've
drew 1t yourself. Turn around"