The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1921-11-09

pipes with it. for all of me. To h-ll
with itf
"Shut up!" His voice topped the
murmurs at the table Carlson sat
quiet, sometimes licking his lips gent
ly, listening to Lund as he might have
listened TO the rantings of a melodra-
matte actor. But Rainey sensed that
he was making a mistake. He was
letting Lund go too far The men were
listening to Lund, and he knew that
the giant was talking for a specific
purpose. Just to what end he could
not guess. The big booming voice
held them, while it dashed them.
Equal to me? Bah! I'm a man.
Yo're lot of fools. Talk about me
bein' blind. 1t was ice-blink got me.
Then Ophthalmy matterin' up my
eyes. It's gold-blink's got you. Yo're
caye-fish, lot of blind suckers"
He leaned over the table pointing
a massive square finger, matched with
red wool, direct at Carlson, as if he
had been leveling a weapon.
''Carlsen's a fake! He's got you
hipped. He thinks he's boss, becoz
he's the only navigator of yOre crowd.
/ amt overlooked that card, Carlson.
That amt the only string he's got on
We. Nor the three shares he expects
to pull down. He made you pore suck
ers fire off all your shells; he found
out you amt got a gum left among you
that's emmy more use than a club. Hes
got a gun an he showed you how he
could use it, He's sittin' back larfin'
at the bunch of youi"
The men stirred. Rainey saw Carl
sens grin disappear. He dropped the
paper. His face paled, the veins
showed suddenly like purple veins In
dirty marble.
1--WE got that gun yet, Lund," he
snarled.
Lund laughed, the ring of it so con-
fident that the men glanced from him
to Carlson nervously.
"Yo're a fake, Carlson" he said.
"And I've got yore number! To HI
with you an yore pOp-gun. You amt
even a doctor. l saw real doctors
ashore about my eyes. Niphablepsia,
they call snow-blindness. I'll bet you
never heard of it. Yo're only a wom-
an-conning dope-shooter Else you'd
have known that niphab1epsia amt
permanent I've bin gettin' my sight
back ever since l left Seattle An
now, d-n you for a moldy-hearted,
slimy-souled fakir, stand up an say
yo're my equal ~
He stood up himself, towering above
the rest as they rose from their chairs,
tearing the black glasses from his
eyes and flinging them at Carlson, who
was forced TO throw up a hand to
ward them off. Rainey got one glimpse
of the giants eyes. They were gray
blue, the color of agateware, hard as
steel. implacable.
Carlson swept aside the spectacles
and they shattered on the floor as he
leaped ND and the automatic shone In
his hand. Lund had folded his arms
above his great chest. He laughed
again, and his arms opened.
In an instant Rainey caught the OBJ
ject of Lund's speechmaking. He had
done 1t to enrage Carlson beyond en-
durance, TO make him draw his gun.
Giant as ne was, he moved with the
grace OF a panther. with swfftness
too fast for the eye TO register. Some
thing flashed in his right hand, a gun,
that he had drawn from a holster
slung over his left breast
The shots blended. Lund stood
there erect, uninjured. A red blotch
showed between Carlsen's eyes. he
slumped down into his chair, his arms
clubbing the table, his gun falling
from his ner1elesS hand, his forehead
striking the wood ike the sound Of
an auctioheer's gavel Lund had beat
en- him TO the draw.
Lund, no longer a blind Samson,
with contempt in his agate eyes, sur
veyed the scattering group Of men who
stared at the dead man duly, as If
gripped by the exhibition of miracle.
Its all right, Miss Simms, he said
+Jest killed a skunk Rainey. git that
gRp an, attend 70 the Young lady. Ell