The St. Charles herald. [volume] (Hahnville, La.) 1873-1993, 1919-04-12

| t'u tD w tlilS .J'''
| Following sound of shuffling foot
steps, the iluStrious leader hllnSeii
| appeared in the doorway. Bully TACK
ett's visage was one Of those OF WHICH
the worst dreams are made. Nhiie IL
was rendered somewhat vacant by the
| absence of his nose. one Of his eyes,
| and the major portion OF his upper up
unwilling sacrifices to the god of war
| his expression lost none of its feroci'
! ty on that account, and his shaggy
hair and beard gave him look that
| was scarcely human.
Mr.. Hackett had been engaged on
private foraging expedition. ana
knew nothing of the happenings within
the saloon. nor saw the brakeman. as
he came toward the bar.
''Wot'S the matter?" he inquired saw
agely. Didn't We see that freight pull
inT'
BY way OF attracting his attention.
Brown struck him slnartly on the part
of his face formerly occupied by his
nose.
Yes, an she'll lay there till she rots.
if she waits fer you To take her out.
BY the time | git through with you.
yOu'll be ready To crawl in your hole"
said the brakeman. He had seen the
train crew gathered in the shadows
outside the door and now had little to
fear from the other h0boes.
Better take off your coat. because
I'm not a-gon' to knock you out. I'll
make you quit like dog. so the rest
of these gents'll see what you are
stated Brown, removing his own outer
garment.
Hackett waited not for further adj
vice, but dashed out so viciousiy with
his right arm that Brown was taken
unawares, and. lad ii not been for the
bar at his back, he would have gone
down ANONYMOUSLY. Even So, he was
in an evil plight, for the tramp. seeing
his opportunity. rushed in. raining
blows ON the face and body of his OPP
ponent.
Then, indeed, did it seem that the
brakeman had been Oyercontident in
his boasting. The other hoboeS shout
ed encouragement to their champion,
and the train crew were only restrain
ed from joining in the fight by the con-
iuctor, who continued to voice his be-
lief in Browns prowess.
Veteran of hundred battles.
Browns first move was to stop the
failing arms This he did by the sim
pie expedent of twining his own about
them. Gradually, with the apparent
sinuOSty of boa constructor. he
wrapped his limbs about those of the
other, and for a moment lifted his own
feet clear of the floor making Hackett
support the weight of both their
bodies. Then, unmindful of his strug-
giles, Brown as carefully freed himself.
sending the hobo backward with
solid jolt on the spot where his first
blow had landed.
Brown was intent on proving the
DRY that he had long held. namely, that
a man, though inwardly a coward may
fight with seeming bravery so long as
the blows of his adversary have not
the appearance of being well judged
or aimed with accuracy; but that
succession of blows, however light, on
a sensitive spot will make him quit il
he has the least vestige Of yellow
streak.
During the next few minutes, so
fiercely did Hackett assail him that the
brakeman was almost entirely on the
defensive. More than once he felt the
impact of the tramp's horny fist on his
foo hut no c,til hall 20 hi
When the opening offered. his hand
flashed out. striking with invariable
precision the spot he had selected for
his attack.
Hackett manifested his displeasure
at this mode of warfare, evidently
thinking that Brown acted dishonor-
ably in profting by the absence of his
nasal feature.
For long time they fought. neither
gaining the advantage. Brown was
bleeding freely from the mouth, and
one eye was fast swelling shut; but
his antagonist was also badly bruised,
the remnant of his nose being quite
raw. OF the two, Hackett seemed the
more fatigued. Excessive drinking
had made him shOrt-winded, and he
breathed heavily. The brakeman now
began to force the fighting, striking
more often in the same spot. Hackett
gave ground and once he glanced back,
as if seeking way Of escape.
Stand up an fight, why don't you?"
painted Brown. You claim to be the
champeen DO. Well. l amt no kind e
a champeen, an here you're tryin' to
quit before l git warmed up. What
kind Of fightin do you call that? Come
on an mix it little"
But Hackett had had enough. His
spirit was gone. and he skunk back into
the crowd, whimpering
stop i'm. boys; stop 1m," he plead.
ed. My heavens, my mugs broke in!
can't fight no more"
"You don't need to be scared. I'm
satisfied" answered Brown. II knew
you was gutter the minute ! seen
you, an l wanted to show you up. so
you couldn't lead these dubs into no
more deviltry. Whatll we do with 'em.