Fulton County tribune. (Wauseon, Ohio) 1883-1925, 1917-06-01
CHAPTER II-continued.

p
Good judges on the working floor Of
the Lawrenceville Athletic. club had
said of the well-muscled young bank
cashier that he did not know his own
strength. II was the sight of the pistol
that maddened him and put the driving
force behind the smashing blow that
landed upon the big mans chest. The
lifted pistol dropped from Mr.. Watrous
Dunham's grasp and he wilted, settling
back into his chair. and then slipping
to the floor. ..l4t..
In a flash Smith knew what he had
done. Once. one evening when he had
been induced to put on the gloves with
the Athletic clubs trainer, he had con-
trived to plant a body blow which had
sent the wiry little Irishman to the
mat, gasping and fighting for the
breath of life. "If ever yez'll be givin'
a man that heart-punch wild tn bare
fisht Misther Montague, It's you FIR tn
fasht train widout shtoppin' to buy
amy ticket-itll be murther In the
first degree" the trainer had said,
when he had breath to compass the
saying.
With the unheeded warning resur-
gent and clamoring in his ears, Smith
knelt horror-stricken beside the fallen
man. On the presidents heavy face
and in the staring eyes there was a
foolish smile, as of one mildly aston
ished. Smith loosened the collar around
the thick neck and laid his ear upon
the spot where the blow had fallen.
The big mans heart had stopped like
a smashed clock.
Smith got upon his feet, turned off
the electric light. and, from mere force
of habit, closed and snap-locked the
presidents desk. The watchman had
not yet returned. Smith saw the empty
chair beside the vault door as he
passed it on his way to the street. The
cashiers only thought was to go at
once to police headquarters and give
himself up. Then he remembered how
carefully the trap had been set, and
how impossible 1t would be for him to
make any reasonable defense.
With one glance over his shoulder at
the darkened front windows Of the
bank, Smith began to run, not toward
the police station, but In the opposite
direction-townrd the railroad station.
For ]. Montague Smith, slipping from
shadow to shadow down the scantily
lighted cross street and listening mo-
mentarily for the footballs Of pursuit,
a new hour had struck. 1t was all
prodigiously incredible. The crowding
sensations were terrifying, but they
were also precious, In their way. Long
forgotten bits Of brutality and tyranny
on watrous Dunham's part came up to
be remembered and, In this retributive
aftermath, to be triumphantly crossed
of as items in an account finally set
tied. On the Smith side the bank cash
ier's forebears had been plodding farm
ers, but old John Montague had been
the village blacksmith and soldier
a shrewd smiter in both trades. Blood
VIII tell. Parental implantings may
have much to say to the fruit Of the
womb, but atavism has more. Smiths
jaw came up with a snap. He was NO
longer an indistinguishable unit In the
ranks of the respectable and the we'll
behaved; he was a man fleeing for his
life. What was done was done, and
the next thing to do was to avert the
consequences.
At the railroad station q few early
comers for the west-bound passenger
train due at ten o'clock were already
gathering, and at the bidding Of GER
tain new and militant craftiness Smith
avoided the lighted waiting rooms al
II they held the pestilence. A string o.
box cars had been pushed up from tht
freight-unloading platforms recently
and in the shadow of the cars ht
worked his way westward to the yart
where a night switching crew was max
Ing up train.
Keeping to the shadows, he walket
back along the line of cars on tn,
makeup track, alertly seeking his op
portunity. Halfway down the lengtl
of the train he found what he wa
looking for: box car with it's sidedoo
hasped but not locked. With bit o