The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1924-12-12
CHAPTER XI-Continued

4
name had already been banded about
from ruffian's lips. Lee WINGED at
that even as he had WINGED at the re-
membrance of having been brutaily
rough with her himself. But what was
past was past; Quinnion had talked
and must talk no more.
Hell start something the minute
he sees you," cautioned Carson. his
own revolver loose in the belt under
his coat, his hard fingers like taIons
| gripped about the butt. keep your
eye peeled, Bud. Better cool Off
speck before you tie into him. You're
! too mad, tell you, for straight, quick
| shooting"
Lee made no answer. Side by side
the two men went on. They had left
| the sidewalk and walked down the
middle of the rusty, rut-gouged street
Every man they met, every figure
standing in the shadows, received
their quick, measuring looks.
Most likely" suggested the cattle
foreman, "by now he's got drunk an
gone to sleep it off,"
But Lee knew better than that.
| Quinnion wasn't the sort that got
drunk He'd drink until the alcohol
! stirred up all OF the evil in his ugly
| heart; then he'd stop, always sure or
his eye and his hand. 1t was far more
likely that with crowd of his own
sort he was gambling in the card room
of the Last Chance saloon, the all
| bird saloon as white" men called it.
For there was an ill-famed hang-out
at the far end of the struggling town,
| just at the edge of the Italian settle
ment, that of late had come to be ire
quented by such as Quinnion; men
who were none too well loved by
the greater part of the community,
men who, like Quinnion, had
served time in Jail or penitentiary.
Black Steve, who was both proprietor
and bartender, and who looked like
low-class Italian, though he spoke the
yernacular of the country, was the
god of the 'dago" quarter, the friend
of those who had gotten entangled with
the law. Only last year he had killed
his man in his own saloon, then gone
clear, through the combined perjury
of his crowd.
The street grew steadily gloomier,.
filled with shadows. In front of the
Jailbird the only light came from
within and made scant war on the
lurking darkness without. Lees ears
were greeted with the crazy whine OF
an old accordion, and with mems
voices lifted in laughter. He showed
the swing door open with his shoul-
der, Carson pushed the other half
back, and the two stood on the
threshold, stheir eyes swiftly seeking
Quinnion.
As though their presence had been
q command for silence, sudden hush
fell over the Jailbird. The accordion
man drew out last gasping note and
turned black round eyes upon them.
Black Steve, oily and perspiring be-
hind his bar, caressed a heavy black
mustache and looked at them out OF
cold, expressionless eyes.
The first glance had shown Lee that
Quinnion was not there. At least not,
in the main room. But there were
the card rooms at the rear. He gave
no sign o. having felt the hostility of
the many eyes turned upon him, but
went quickly down through the room,
turning neither to right nor left.
'.Hop on there" came the big boom
ing voice of Steve. "What you fellers.
want, huh?"
Lee gave him no answer but strobe
on. Carson, at Lees heels like a
grim old dog, showed his teeth lit
tie. Steve, striking the bar with a
heavy hand, shouted In menacing
tones:
"Hor on, sayi Nobody goin' to
break in on a play that's running in
my card rooms. If you fellers want
anything, you ask me-"
go ahead. Bud" said Carson
loosely. "It's only the OF black calf
bawling same as usual"
But Lee needed no urging. He had
heard voices beyond the closed door
IN front of him, among them certain
high-pitched, snarling, indescribably
evil voice which he knew. He put his
hand on the knob and found that the
door was locked. With no waste of
time, he drew back a step, lifted his
foot and drove his heel smashing into
the lock. Then, throwing himself for
ward, driving his shoulder into the
door, he burst 1t off its hinges.
At last he had found Quinnion.
Here were half a dozen men, not
playing cards, but interrupted in a
quiet talk. Standing on the far side
of the table was a man who was as
evil a thing to see as was his voice
to hear, his face twisted. drawn to
the left side, the left eye mere slit
of maIevolence, the uneven teeth
showing in an eternal, mirthless grin,
man whose hands, when his arms
were lax as now. hung almost TO his
knees, man twisted morally, men
tally. and physically.
Bud Lee had eyes only for this man.
But suddenly Carson had seen anoth-
err man, seeking to screen himself be
hind the great, misskapen bulk of
ouinnion, and with new eagerness was
crying:
ITS Shorty, Budi He's mine !"
But Shorty was no mans yet. At
his back was window; it was closed
and the shade was drawn, but to
Shorty il spelled safety. Head first
he went through it, tearing the green
shade down, crashing through the
glass, leaving discussion behind him.
| With q below of rage Carson went