The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1915-02-15
1t PLACE Of PEACE
BY GEORGE FoxHALL.
(Copyright.)


one side and the employees on the
otner. A mans life was cheaper than
barrel Of apples in San Andora at
that time. for the yeggman has Meth.
er code nor conscience. He gives NO
| quarter, and he gets none.
-Four men met in the office Of Yard.
master O'Curran. They had met there
the previous evening. joking with the
grim humor of men whose lives are
suspended on a hair between two
worlds.
Tonight there was no humor in their
grimness. Tonight there were four of
I them. The previous night there had
been six.
Tom Clarkson, brother and chief as
sistant of the chief. snapped the maya
zine of his automatic into place and ex-
pressed the sentiment Of them all.
There's only one way to beat these
murderers,," he said, "and that is, If
you see your man before he sees you,
shoot him first and warn him after"
"'Tis the only way" agreed Yard
! master O'Curran, "and It's the plan I
shall use myself If get into anything.
My brother Martin is on his way home,
an want his welcome to be more
fitting than a funeral"
The two Clarksons turned in quick
surprise to the big yardmaster.
That's good news, Tim" said the
chief; when do you expect him?"
within the week." answered O'Cur-
ran. smiling happily.
Tom Garrison put out hearty hand.
"It's a long and lonely trail he's been
on, Tim," said he. 81 hope he doesn't
bear any grudge against me for his
starting on it."
Never grudge did Martin bear in
his life. I know you were rivals in
pretty near everything. and by some
luck you generally managed to beat
him, but l reckon the winner felt
more enmity than the loser, even when
you beat him for the girl"
A momentary frown showed that
the elder O'Curran at least felt that
there was some cause for grudge.
A wet mist was drifting over the
yards as the men sought their vari-
GUS patrols. No man was more glad
than Tom Clarkson that Martin O'Cur.
ran was coming home. for 1t was when
he had married the girl both had court
ed that Martin had left San Andora on
his aimless, restless tramp: but the
elder brothers attitude toward him de-
pressed him in spite Of himself.
He was aroused to the need OF
watchfulness by the sound Of scuf-
he at the end Of box car. and a. he
advanced with drawn pistol, man
with a bludgeon in his hand sprang to-
ward him.
He fired. He fired with the intent
and skill that takes no chances. A sur
prised, frightened sob gasped from the
stricken mans lungs. For q second
he stood upright, then sank to the
ground-dead.
From beyond the car came the sound
Of fleeing footsteps. Garrison sprane
past the inert figure and stumbled over
another man slowly struggling to hil
feet between the rails. He was evi
IDENTIFY dazed, and Clarkson, still work
ing on the principle Of taking nc
chances. snapped q pair Of handouts
on him before he could recover.
"Al right. bo," said the man re
signedly. "You can't prove nothin' OF
me morn trespass. Did you get thu
guy you fred att"
"You bet l did. It's the only wa,
to- make sure of you murderin(
thieves"
Huh! Then I guess thcre'll b
somebody to pay an no birthstone hot
He warn't no yegg."
HE made a pretty good imitation
of one when he came for me with hi
club"
The yeggman laughed sardonically
Say. bo," he said, Il reckon you sho
the yardmaster's brother. That's VIII
he said he was. He dubbed me on tn
head when l tried to make him 60 Il
with U.s."
The sickening horror o. hat minute
and the ordeal of the next few day
wrote haggard lines upon the face
! Tom Clarkson.
! Sad of soul, he went back to dut,
and the big yardmaster, Tim o'Curra'
with a pitiful ache in his heart, rea
and reread the letter in which hi
brother had told him that his TT 9
wanderlust had passed and he wa
coming home.
Two DAYS after the funeral Tol
stepped softly into the yardnaster
office and closed the door after hin
The yardmaster, bending unseeingl
over some papers. looked up as 10
shadow fell across the light.
"Tim," said Clarkson, Il don't kno
exactly what I've come to say, 81
somehow want to add my sorrow
YOURS and to know that you bear m
no enmity.
O'Curran stared at him with har
ewes and grimly set lips without sa
ing a word, and Clarkson knew TIL
the hope that he had felt was vaiI
= hut pity for the sorrow he had brougl
was in his heart.
81 hope you bear me no enmit
Tim he said gently.
The thin, grim line OF OCurran
Inns parted. He spoke in his low, ric
Irish voice, with the faint sugsesue
of brogue.
"'Tis the family feud. Tom," sa
he. II guess it's the family feud. n
an Martin. an you an Jim have be-
g arrayed against each other since
~.nts ON, ouese Y