Adventure, February 1917 — page 131: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

\ The Pride of McNeal The flagman was called and the special rolled away. From the window McNeal thoughtfully watched it go, his fingers tenderly caressing the bruised, raw spot on his cheek. © Il Venn SUPERINTENDENT KANE, in (ee) i) conference with General Manager Bonner the following A.M., was annoyed by disturbing voices just outside the door of his private office; he had given instructions that he was not to be disturbed. First came the protesting voice of his chief clerk, then another voice, insistent; and in a moment the office door was opened pre- cipitately. “Mr. McNeal—” began the flustered chief clerk; and that was as far as he got, for McNeal himself stepped in, closing the door upon him. A different McNeal from that of the day before; quite composed, quite sure of himself now. - “Mr. McNeal!’ Superintendent Kane had angrily risen from his desk. ‘‘What does this interruption mean? I was not to be disturbed!”’ : “So they told me,” said McNeal, ad- vancing until he reached the desk, opposite to Kane, and at the end of which Bonner, still seated, was slowly puffing at a cigar and watching McNeal silently. There was nothing of disrespect in McNeal’s voice or manner as he continued— “But I have something to say to you— something I believe important—and I could not wait.” “Tmpossible!”’ cried Kane shortly. And he added coldly: “I do not care to hear your excuses—they will do you no good now!” He waved his hand in dismissal and resumed his:seat. “You misunderstand me,” said McNeal steadily, making no movement to go. “I have no excuses.” Hands resting lightly on the top of the desk he leaned and shot a sudden. question at Kane— “Do you know where Tom Brady is?” “Brady!” ejaculated Kane; the unex- . pectedness of the question, or the irrelevance of it, discomposed him for a moment. “Tom Brady! No!” “T do!” said McNeal quickly, holding the superintendent with his level gaze. “Tom Brady is dead!” | / “What! Dead! Tom Brady dead!” Kane’s voice betrayed how astounded he was. And even Bonner stopped smoking .to stare in surprise, his cigar poised in mid-. air; he knew of Tom Brady—an employee discharged under a cloud of peculiar cir- cumstances, a thorn-in-the-flesh festering trouble, and lately uttering wild threats. “Tell us!” urged Kane almost eagerly. “‘We have heard nothing! How do you know it? Was he killed?” “Yes,” answered McNeal soberly, a momentary sadness in his voice: ““Yes—he was killed. I killed him!” With a gasp Kane sank back in his chair, fascinated eyes fixed on McNeal’s immobile face, speechless for the moment. The general manager’s mouth opened in aston- ishment; and then he closed it slowly. McNeal stood quietly waiting for Kane to speak; which the superintendent did as quickly as he could collect himself. *“You—you killed Tom Brady! McNeal you—you amaze me! Kane bent forward in his chair, fingers gripping the arms tensely. “Why did—how did it happen? And where?”’ “At Sidon—yesterday!”’? McNeal’s voice did not vary from its composed, even pitch. ‘And that is why I came here this morning —to tell you. It will not take long.” Again he stood waiting, expectantly. Kane, a faint light of understanding be- ginning to glimmer in his brain, looked at the general manager questioningly; and 129 when Bonner nodded the superintendent . turned to McNeal again. “All right, McNeal, go ahead! Take a chair,”’ Kane pointed to one beside the desk and settled back into his own, He wanted to hear this story; some way he felt it would be more than interesting. ‘McNeal pulled the chair to him and sat down, holding his hat in his hands. “T WENT fishing early yesterday morning,” McNeal said, “‘starting before daybreak. It was the first ka day of the bass season and it has been rather a custom for me to go the opening day. To get to the place where I desired to fish I followed the track west fyom the station for about a quarter mile. ‘Just before arriving at the point where I left the track to cut through the fields, the track making a sharp curve there, I (ECOMMICE ZS 0)(0\(0) (E@)