The Kenna record. (Kenna, Roosevelt County, N.M.) 190?-1924, 1914-08-28


warmth and life than he haG shown
before, and let me know who It is. l
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.
Snarler 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 All
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 broached unto
Jim the pulling of a pretty bit of viii
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
ha nn
That's thieving, amt it?" he in
quired.
The Snarler was little taken aback
for a moment. TO qualify things had
never occurred to him.
Sure, Mike" he said uneasily.
Then count me out" growled Jim.
So the kid refused his career, and
the Snarler, after hiding his disgust in
ehree days of oblivion, resumed his
with the careful cowardice of the petty
sneak-thief.
But at length there came time
when, tempted by a seemingly easy
opportunity into larger operation, cow
ardlce 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 1t was upon ugliness that
Snarler meditated 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 a big revolver, too
dazed to do anything but hold the
match.
The other came to his relief with
short laugh. That's all right. bo,"
said he. Il thought maybe you was
shack, an I'll put shack's light out
before I'll hit the ties and starve in
this desert. I'm tough guy, l am"
81 don't blame YOU" agreed the
yesterday, after I'd lost my gun. II
hadn't lost it-Pm 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 it was Kelly on whom the brake
mans eye rested, and he lowered his
lantern quickly
Beat It, dye heart" again ordered
the gunman.
Suddenly the brakeman dropped. to
one knee. Like a 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, trife uneas-
lily and sheepishly.
Whats the matter, Jim?" said he.
Don't you know your old dad? You
sure are an ugly guy"
And Jim put his face close to his
fathers. "You bet know you. An
UOu ltpf I'm on nUlU onu Won frafrad