Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1917-07-10

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III Illustsatisss byllwlN MYERS I8
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Copyright by Cbas. scribnsr's Sons
From the quarry cutting the viev
struck out by the camp mastheads wa
unobstructed. The dam and the I'm
completed power house, still figuring
to the eye as skeleton masses Of form
timbering, lay just below them, ant
on the hither side the flooding tor
rent Numbered through the spillwa!
gates, which had been opened to thei
fullest capacity. Between the QUAR-.
and the northern dam-head ran tn,
smooth concerted channel Of the mail
ditch canal, with the water in the res
ervoir lake still tapping several fee
below the level Of its entrance to give
assurance that, until the spillway!
should be closed, the charter saving
stream would never pour through thu
canal.
On the opposite side Of the rivel
the dam-head and the camp street
were deserted. but there were lights
in the commissary, in the Office shack
and in Blue Pete Simms' canteen dog
gerry. From the latter quarter sounds
of revelry rose above the spillway
thunderings, and now and again q
drunken figure lurched through the
open door to make its way uncertain.
ly toward the rank Of bunk houses.
Harding was staring into the farther
nimbus Of the electric rays, trying to
pick up some sign Of the other half Of
his posse, when Smith made sug.
gestion.
Both Of your parties will have the
workmen's bunk houses in range, Mr..
Harding, and we mustn't forget that
Colonel Baldwin and Williams are
prisoners in the timekeeper's shack.
# the guns have to be used"
There won't be any wild shooting,
Of the kind you're thinking Of" re-
turned the sheriff grimly. There
amt single man In this posse that
can't hit what he aims at, nine times
out O. ten. But here's hopin' we can
gather 'em in without the guns. If
they amt lookin' for us"
The interruption was the whining
song Of a jacketed bullet passing over
head. followed BY the crack Of q rife.
Down. boys!" said the sheriff softly,
setting the example by sliding into the
ready-made trench afforded by the dry
ditch Of the outlet canal; and as he
said It . sharp fusillade broke out,
with IRE spurtings from the commits
sary building and others from the
mesa beyond to show that the surprise
was baked In both directions.
They must have had scouts out, !"
was Smiths word to the sheriff, who
vas cautiously accommodating the new
" developed situation from the shell
ter Of the, canal trench. They are
evidently ready for us, and that knocks
your plan In the head. Your men
can't cross these stagings under fire."
Your 'wops' are all right, anyway"
said Harding. They're pouring out, of
The bunk houses and that saloon over
there and taking to the hills like a
flock o. scared chickens" Then to
Ills men: Scatter out, boys, and get
the range on that commissary shed.
That's where most Of the rustlers are
cached"
Two days earlier, two hours earlier,
perhaps. Smith would have begged a
weapon and flung himself into the
fray with blood lust binding him to
everything save the battle demands Of
the moment. But now the final mile
stone in the long road Of his metamor-
.phosis had been passed and the darks
some valley Of elemental passions was
left behind.
.Hold up minute, for Gods sake !"
he pleaded hastily. "We've got to give
them a show, Hardingl The chances
are that every man in that commits
sary believes that M'Graw has the law
on his side and, we are not sure that
he hasn't. Anyway, they don't know
that they are trying to stand of a
sheriff's posse !"
Harding's chuckle was sardonic.
pYou mean that we'd ought to 60 over
syonder and read the riot act to 'em
first? That might do back in the
country where you came from. But
tie man that can get into that camp
pyer there with the serving papers
anow,d have to be armor-plated, I
reckon"
"Just the same, we've got to give
them their chance!" Smith insisted
iioggedly. Eve can't stand for any
unnecessary bloodshed-I won't stand
TOR 1t r
Harding shrugged his heavy shout
ders. One round into that sheet-iron
.commissary shack1l bring 'em to time
and nothing else will. ! hain't got
any men to throw away on the dew
dabs and furbelows."
Smith sprang up and held out his
hand. 81
"sYou have at least one man that
you can spare, Mr.. Harding" he
snapped. ''Give me those papers. I'll
60 over and serve them"
At this the big sheriff promptly lost
his temper.
.sYou blamed fool!" he burst out.
sYou,d be dog-meat before you could
get ten feet away from this ditch /"
v Never mind: give me those papers.
I'm moi. going to stand by quietly and