The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1933-09-01

"Shot!" He Muttered. "Shot!"
imaginings was closing on Paul Cor
BEL This was real.
"Why why, what the devil
are you driving att" he demanded.
rallying a show of buster.
"Turn on your light and I'll read
why"
Light Light, with the sheriff
standing there against the door, sus-
picious. ready for any emergency?
They're burned out" he lied. fuse
blew just before you drove up. :.
What do you mean-you'n read why?"
'I've got a warrant for you, Cor
BEL" the sheriff said slowly. "It's for
arson" He paused.
"Arson!" Gorbel's voice cracked.
"Yeah. Amt a pleasant word, is
it? Amt a pleasant crime, neither.
Bad as murder, Gorbel You over
stepped yourself in your story. The
university says the lad you put in the
way of bein' killed hadn't been drink
in for long. >. Put on your hat and
coat; we've got drive to make"
Look here, Nat! ;. Why, there's
some mistake! There's some devilish
mistake behind this! Arson? :.
Good Cd. Nat you don't"
Il don't aim to visit with you, Cor
bel Put on your coat p
Bitterness was rising in the sheriff's
heart, a contempt that must be voiced.
81 don't aim to visit with you. I've
got you cold, Gorbell For long time
you've fooled us all, but that's over
now. I'm glad I'm sheriff of this
county tonight to take back to my
Jail firebug, skunk! J"
Lights danced before Paul Gorbel's
eyes, though there were no lights A
roaring sounded in his ears. The
mountain of doom was moving towards
him, to overwhelm him, to blot him
out; to mash his cupidity, his loves,
his ambitions.
He turned, as If to tear open a win
dow and Jump, and great hand
caught his arm.
mo you don'tl If l have to, I'll"
lie uldu LII Tile Su6IlIl
clutch, tried to tear away. He made
strange sounds in his throat as his
trembling hand tugged at a hip pocket.
LET me gop' he screamed. "Let
me go, you foolI"
mo you've gone: to the end
of your rope, and if"
The pistol came out. The stream of
fire was short, barely the span of a
mans hand, so closely was it held to
the sheriff's breast. The report filled
the room, and then, as Gorbel felt
those stout fingers loosen on his arm,
the sheriff drew a long, retching
breath.
"Shotl" he muttered. "Shot !. and
and"
He threw out a hand awkwardly for
support and dragged a chair over with
him as he fell against the desk.
Paul Gorbel was at the door. spring
ing the lock. He drew II shut behind
him. He went along the corridor and
down the steps with breath sputter-
ing through set lips. /. Inside. the
man on the floor breathed heavily. try
ing to speak, to call out, fighting
against the pain, struggling 10 rise !;
then slumping backward to lie and
pant. But his eyes were open and
through the low window he watched
the lighted stores across the way.
John Belknap entered the boarding
house late for supper. He had visited,
after closing hours, with the young
cashier of the Bank of Kampfest. paw
ing the way for following up the story
of double-dealing there that Marie
had told him. Now that the break
had come, he would push every angle
relentlessly.
AS he passed through the Office the
manager hailed him.
Long distances been tryin' to get
you all afternoon from Shoestring,"
he said. "And Nat Bradshaw was
here, lookin' for you Oh. not
over half-hour ago"-glancing at the
clock
'Did Nat drive back?" John asked.
Search me. He seemed sort of