The states-graphic. (Brownsville, Tenn.) 1???-1984, 1916-10-06

Immediately his thin tenor was rolling
ahead of them through the black alley
between the pines. to continue In soul
fUi reiteration until the construction
camp clearing doomed up ahead. Sud
denly Fat Joe frightened the reins above
the tagged team: then he shot forward
ana la+a the whip across their tired
TANKS as they cleared the breastwork
Of trees.
Steve's head was jerked backward
by the abruptness of their first plunge.
ard then he saw what Fat Joe had
seen a second before. High up on the
hillside there was a light glowing from
the windows Of the shack which served
the chief engineer of the East Coast job
as office and domicile too. While Fat
Jee laid on the whip a man came hur-
Ting past the outflung door sprang 10
his feet and. running low to the
ground. disappeared into the blackness
OF the brush. Joe swung the horses NJ
In a galloping curve and with one cat
like leap, incredibly light for a man OF
his chunky build. was down from the
seat and crashing through the bushes
on the trail of that fugitive whose
noisy flight had already become faint
crackle in the distance.
Flame poured from Fat Joe's revolv-
er. Two whiplike reports shattered the
night quiet before stephen O'Mara
moved. Then he lifted himself heavily
from the seat. Something nuzzled his
shoulder while he stood listening to the
diminishing tumult of the pursuit, and
even before he turned he knew what
1t was. He paused moment to stroke
the soft nose of the black horse stand
ing there with reins a-trail 1t was
Ragtime, wet with lather and caked
with dust. But even then he was not
prepared for the sight which met him
when he entered the shack. Seconds
must have passed while he stood star
ing from the threshold, for Fat Joe
came putting back from his fruitless
chase in time to see him bend and lift
a black ROBBED lifelessly limp body
from the floor and stagger with 1t to-
ward bunk. Fat Joe's steady flow OF
profanity, oddly, double vicious In his
thin, complaining voice, was checked
short. He. too, stood and stared from
the doorway-stood and lifted his nose
and shifted.
Seems to be our night for callers"
he remarked, with bad mildness, "and.
say, this ones got peach of load"
Then Garry Devereau's head rolled
over, CHASTITY loose and slack, and the
plump one caught sight of a ragged
cash in the senseless mans temple.
800, that's it?" he droned, and his
complaining voice was deadly again.
80 that's It'll But he wasn't so far
gone that he couldn't put up tidy lit
tie battle, was he? Funny about that.
too, but could always do my best lit
tie jobs Of man handling when was
about half over myself"
His pale eyes swept the floor. He
pounced forward and recovered sheaf
Of blue prints from a corner.
"This, take It," he muttered, was
what they was arguing about when we
busted in. Steve, them's our bridge esq
Inmates and there want no copies of
'em either. 1t wouldn't take us more'n
two weeks to replace 'em neither-not
more'n two precious, priceless weeks.
I'm only hopin' now that when our
other caller, who seems to want them
more than we do, calls again, I'll be
here myself to entertain him with tea
or somethin'. I'd plumb hate to seem
so inhospitable as not to be home,
twice hand runnin', to visitors"
maybe that was a tidy little battle
while 1t lasted" Fat Joe continued,
"but it amt deuce high alongside this
fight we've got on our hands right
now. For he's just as near over as I'd
care to see a man, unless it was some
one I'd little prefer dead! It amt
that scratch on the head that's got
him slippin', either" Joe paused and
turned to address Garry Devereau's