The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1914-11-30

MAD WITH THE HEAT
BY EDeERroN FRANKLIN.

The sounder called. in Wilkes law
wacwilkes up the line at Bradford
ana belcher awoke from his doze and
answered.
Seen the PRESIDENT" inquired his
sounder. ~
belcher licked back that he had not
ana inquired if there was any news.
Inc sounder said: odd mans either
gone through on one Of the fast trains
or Is going through. Stop his train and
tnank him for me- Now, shut up!"
belcher snarled as he turned away
from the table. That was Wilkes
iacetlous way of saying Good morn.
ing over the telegraph wire. It made
him tired.
Everything made Belcher tired. He
rose YEARLY and shuffled out to the lit.
tie platform of Raynor station. Twelve
years OF looking at that platform had
made him dead tired.
ne looked around. Down the line
eastward, Belfeld, presumably swell.
tering In the heat, and 20 miles away.
Up the line. Bradford, another 20 miles
away North. an endless trip of flat
middle West country, uninhabitated,
onering no excuse for existence save
as a haven for some solitude-loving
salamander, quivering just now in the
j., AWFUL sun. Southwark precisely the
same thing, with the main road a mile
! away and out of sight, and the heat
qulvering more violently, if possible.
On, yes, 1t was unusually warm that
DAY, Belcher reflected, as he glanced at
the thermometer and noted that, in the
| shade, it stood just ia, 1t was hot
enough to make a man sit down again
SO Belcher sat on the edge of the plat
form. his face in his dry palms.
| Poor old Belcher! At thirty he looked
forty, and felt fifty. He had entered
, the w. & E. service. right here at
Raynor, when eighteen years of age, a
graduated telegrapher, at $12 a week
| He had also assumed the duties Of
station, freight and express agent,
porter, ticket agent, track.walker and
information bureau to the two or three
dozen who detrained there monthly.
And he still earned $12 week.
Not that he had not been buoyant
and ambitious at first. Why. at first
he would have bet ten years of his ex-
istence that he'd be chief train dis.
patcher, at the very least, by this
time. But the monotony of the thing,
/ the heat in summer and the cold in
winter, the twice-a-day tramp, with the
station and Benker's shabby farm
house at the respective ends, had
worked into Belcher.
His head had a queer feeling. He
rubbed 1t stupidity. Probably it was the
heat; Belcher didn't care much. He
only wished he had the president sit
ting there in that soundless hell, to
talk things over and say that he was
sorry the matter hadn't been attended
to before, and that he'd raise Belcher
at least five dollars at once. If he
didn't say that, Belcher had a notion
that he'd throttle him.
With another groan, Belcher shut
fed to the end of the platform and ex-
tracted from the closet something of
his own contrivance-a sledge and a
strip Of iron, with a small spike at
either end. Whether he felt lazy or
not, he'd have to pull together that
crack in the tie next the switch and
keep it from spreading wide open be-
fore the track repairers finally worked
around to replacing the tie-some
seventy or eighty years hence
, YEARLY, he shuffled across the track
and looked the thing over Yes, about
two weeks more, or good rain, and
there'd be one tie split in two and a
loose rail.
There was no way of fixing it, for
the mechanism of that particular
switch, locked or open, usually de-
clined to operate with anything less
than a hammer, and now it was twist.
ed and broken to bits! Still more, the
morning express ran on mighty close
time. And
What the dickens are you doing?"
a loud voice buzzed into his spinning
brain.
Belcher turned quickly. He stared
He stared harder still! AS certainly as
he breathed, it was President Bullion,
black-clad, puffy, red-faced, the very
gentleman with whom Belcher had
wanted to hobnob-or slaughter!
THAT was deliberate destruction OF
the company's property" Numbered
the bulky man. 81 saw it
| Momentarily he saw more. Bel
cher's hard fist struck him in the re-
gion of the solar plexus, and he
sprawled backward, with the lone sta
tion-agent doing a wild war dance
over him.
Mr.. Bullion did not struggle. For
the time he was altogether too dazed
Belcher stepped back and laughed
somewhat wildly Inspiration had
| fairly blasted into his dulled brain.
There was his strip of iron to hold
the tie together: there was his sledge;
| there vas Buttons motionless foot
and ankle, laid automatically along
| the tie.