Evening star., 1934-07-01
Sad Street .4!2s;. ~; ;5

syn III lHe rainy Odi hHcoo.
1t pointed to the doorway of dime fophouse
The kid with the blanket roll shouldered
through the door climbed a flight of rickety
stairs, bought cot check at the desk, cached
his blankets and scrubbed the cinders off his
face and hands at hall sink. He then took q
look through the greasy register.
You no police" barked the Japanese pro-
prietor. who you want?"
"A dynamiter by the name Of Ruck Nc
Gloin" answered the kid. But it's no use
lookin' here. McGloin never paid less than a
dollar for flop in his life. Say, which way is
Gunderson's Saloon?"
"You go on up st'eet. Big lights conan. you
see"
Johnny Sermon swung down the stairs He
was big -shouldered in a sheepskin coat. Shape
less, patched overalls could not conceal the
vitality of youth in his stride. girl hailed
him from an open doorway.
whats the rush. kid?' she called THE
sights young"
Johnny stopped The light from the door,
way lit up his freckles. They spread in q
friendly grin and gray eyes shone-young eyes.
Tell me something, sister," said Johnny Ser
mon. do look like qu;tts-?"
NO" answered the girl Eher set smile drift
ing. You only look like a loser. kid"
That's jake sister, am a loser plenty
I'm just through with 80 days in the jug and
q month on the bum. Say is there a chance
you know a hard-rock man by name of Ruck
McGloln?"
Whats he like?"
Middle age. Blue beard on knotty chunk
Of face, when he lets the beard grow any.
Black eyes, and they're the eyes of a killer for
that's McGloin. Built like a pine stump. A
dynamiter by trade and construction camp
card shark on the side. A dyno up the Colum-
bia River told me I'd find Ruck McGloin in
Portland"
IF he's hard rock and in Portland, youn
bump him sooner or later at GundersonS Sa-
LOOM" said the girl "In Seattle he'd be at
Billy the Mugs. You're green from the sage
brush country, amt you?"
yep. First time west Of the mountains
I've bummed all the way from Pocaloo-Poca-
tello in Idyho-but I got to trail on for Gum
dersons. So long. sister. Hope to see you when
I'm f1ush.'
so long. Could you use two bits for eating
money!"
mot me- no ma'am" Johnny Sermon shook
his shoulders with grand swagger. "All / need
Is some luck in Gundersons."
IA /ITH wave Of his hand with lonesome
w dime in his overalls, the kid from the
sagebrush swung on for the big corner lights.
Gunderson's Saloon was a vast room, warm
and shining. At so card tables chips were
rafting and cards were flashing in stud and
solo games. Rugged men jammed the bar.
Loggers, coastwse Sailors salmon fishermen,
mule skinners, miners, railroad boomers-every
tribe of Western labor had gang at Gunder-
sons bar. 1t was Saturday night. The month
was March. Spring work was opening up.
Some 20 men, most of them in sheepskin
coats ard hobnailed boots, were packed at the
lower end of the long bar. Hard rock men,
the tunnel punchers, the road blasters, ham,
mer men and dynamiters Among them loomed
the smoky countenance of Ruck McGloin.
squat and grizzled old-timer stood at the
bar beside the giant dynamiter. Johnny Sermon
shouldered up to the bar so that the old head
was between himself and McGloin.
I'm busted and I crave a shot of redeye,"
said Johnny easily. you look like Gen. Grant
and I fgger you're big hearted. Would you
help poor boy out?"
Bleary eyes peered at him from hedges Of
wrinkles
you don't need to pass out palaver," croaked
the old-timer "If you're hard rock I'll buy
I'm startin' up camp over on the Coast
road. I could use some young and husky ham,
mer men,
Johnny glanced at the back bar mirror In
the reflection his eyes met the gowering gaze
of Ruck McGloin wintry smile played over
the kids mouth His gray eyes were like bits
of ice.
"I don't banker for no haywire gyppo job"
he drawled.
I'm subcontractor," stated the old head
with great dignity. IT don't run no gyppo
camp. You ask Ruck McGloin here. Ruck is
goin' pardners with me-" He swung stif1y
around you tell him, Ruck. The kid looks
like top swipe. We better hook him up"
"In hook him down and walk on him." Nc
Gloin rumbled. Il know this big gazoon. All
he's huntn' is trouble"
Johnny Sermon poured drink with a steady
hand.
you're right" he said, in voice like iron
rasping iron. I'm huntin' trouble, and
I've run you down."
He paused downed the drink, then faced Nc