The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1931-01-16
CHAPTER xIII-continued

ment. Quantrell was far more nimbles
witted than he, and had completely
turned the tables on him. It was the
prisoner now who jeered at him, an
gered him, and led him into verbal
traps that made him furious. Yet he
did not want to be relieved, exasperat-
ing though the situation was. He
found in it the same savage pleasure
that one with a toothache has when
he is impell to grind upon the throb-
bling molar in resentment.
Nor did Quantrell want him relieved.
He knew there was very little chance
Of escape during the shifts Of Worrall
or Over Both of these were old
timers whosihad healthy respect for
his prowess. Neither of them ever
gave him any opportunity for snatch
at freedom. They watched him like
hawks. Quantrell felt that If he was
to make getaway it would have to
be while Grogan was in charge Of him.
In the darkness of the night shift
the outlaw had made a discovery. He
was small boned, and he could slip
his long narrow hands out of the cuffs
at considerable pain to himself. When
the right moment came he intended to
do so. But he had to be sure Of his
moment. If there was any slip-up, If
he did not succeed, O'Hara would see
that he never had another chance.
livery moment that he was awake, no
matter whether he was eating, read
ing, or deviling Grogan, his mind was
busy with the problem, planning the
best way to divert the guards mind
and make him for one instant careless.
Quantrell played the long shot he
had planned one morning soon after
Worrall went off duty. He had been
playing solitaire at a little table,
handling the cards awkwardly with
his manacled hands. Now he was ap-
parently tired of the game. He began
instead the more attractive one of
rowelling Grogan's temper.
The guard was sitting opposite him
at the table less than three feet away.
Quantrell dropped his arms into bis
lap and leaned forward to jeer at
Grogan. He showed his buck teeth
In a grin and murmured insults at
him. Meanwhile his wrists had slipped
down and he was using his knees for
q wise to hold the iron while he worked
his right hand out Of the cuff.
you an yore whole family,
Buck. Pore white trash, been told.
An yellow. Every last one Of 'em.
Kicked outa yore own state for stealin'
sheep. the way heard it."
Grogan. flushed to furious anger,
lost control Of his temper entirely.
With an oath his right hand reached
across the table and caught the lapel
of Quantrell's coat.
Instantly the lads left hand made
backward circle through the air,
the handcuff still attached to the wrist.
Before Grogan knew what was hap
pening the swinging iron struck the
side of his head. Almost at the same
moment Quantrell rose, leaned for
ward, and with his right hand snatched
the revolver from its holster beside
the guards hip.
Eyes staring incredulously, dazed
from the blow, still uncertain of what
had occurred, Grogan staggered back
step or two. He stared vacantly at
the smiling, derisive face Of his enc
my. Then he understood-and woke
too late to violent action. Like a wild
bull he charged the menacing gun.
Two shots rang out, SO close to-
gether that they sounded like one.
The guards body plunged down on the
table, upset it, and slid to the floor.
Quantrell stood there, feet apart,
wolfishly wary, the hand with the
smoking "A resting on his hip. His
shallow cold blue eyes held to the
body of the man he had just shot
down. He wanted to be sure that his
work was thorough. There was no
doubt about that. After the first
spasmodic twitching of the muscles
the huddled figure lay still.
Slowly a grin creased the face of
the outlaw. "O'Hara will send boy
to mill, eh?" he murmured.
The killer wasted no time. Some
one would hear those shots and the
alarm would be spread. He put his
hat on, tilted jauntily a little to one
side. and walked out Of the room into
the lobby of the hotel.
AS usual Brad Helm was sitting
there with couple of crOnies.
-He was wiry hook-nosed guy
with eyes set too close together
wheezed the hotel keeper. IAN l no.
ticed his claybank had sack hobbies
tied around its neck. Says to him
kinda careless G--ddelmighty!
The last startled exclamation. moi
at all careless in its infection, was
wrung out of the fat man by the sight
Of Qmantrell emerging from the hall.
"Aiornin'. Brad, an gents ALL the
outlaw said lightly. his glance stab
bling at first one and then another.
The fat mans heart died under his
\ribs. "W-where's Grogan?" he qua
kered.
.Grogaur' Quantrelrs smile wa:
n and cruel. "0h. he's back there