Evening times-Republican., 1917-05-31
illustrations
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das. Seibners Sons,

repeated slowly, advancing a step TO-
ward the presidents desk. "That Is
where you gave yourself awat, Mr..
Dunham. You authorized that loan,
and did 1t because you were willing to
use the banks money to put Carter
Westfall in the hole so deep that he
could never climb out. Now, 1t seems,
You are willing to bribe the only dam
gerous witness. don't need money
badly enough to sell my good name for
1t. shall stay right here in Lawrence
Vile and fight 1t out with you"
The president turned abruptly to his
desk and his hand sought the row of
electric bell-pushes. With finger
resting upon the one marked "police," "
he said: "There isn't any room for
argument. Montague. You can have one
more minute in which to change your
mind. If you stay. you'll begin your
fight from the inside Of the county
JAIL"
Now there had been nothing in John
Montague Smiths well-ordered quar-
ter century Of boyhood, youth, and
business manhood to tell him how to
cope with the crude and savage emer-
gency which he was confronting. But
in the granted minute Of respite some-
thing within him. thing az primitive
and elemental as the crisis with which
it was called upon to grapple, shook IT.
self awake. He stepped quickly across
the Intervening space and stood under
the shaded desk light within arms
reach Of the man in the big swing
chair.
.'ycn have II All cut and dried, even
to the setting Of the police trap, haven't
you?" he gritted, hardly recognizing
his own voice. "You meant to hang
me first and try your own case with the
directors afterward. Mr.. Durham, I
know you better than you think I do:
you are not only crook-you are
yellow-livezed coward, as well You
don't dare to press that button!'
While he was saying it, the president
had half. risen. and the hand which
had been hovering over the bell-pushes
shot suddenly under the piled papers
In the corner Of the desk. When 1t
came out it was gripping the weapon
which is never very far out.of reach in
q bank.
J. Good judges on the working door Of
the Lawrenceville Athletic club had
said Of the we,l-muscled young bank
cashier that he cid not know his own
strength. It 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
Qunham's grasp and he ewilted, settling
back into his chair, and then slipping
to the floor.
In 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 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 givfn'
man that heart-punch wild tn bare
dsht, Misther Montague. tits you FIR tn
fasht train widout shtoppin' to buy
amy ticket-it'll be murther in the
first degree" the trainer had said;
when he had breath to compass the
saying.
With tho unheeded warning reslr-
gent and clamoring in his ears, Smith
knelt horror-stric 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
q 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 It 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 toward the railroad station.
For J. Montague Smith. slipping from
shadow to shadow down the scantily
lighted cross street and listening mo-
mentarily for the FOOTBALLS of pursuit,
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
-------- - = =. 1900