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missing package of dynamite last
"Perfectly," assented Brock.
"Some one sneaked into the powder
house while I was busy with the men,
and I missed a 50-pound package of
the explosive an hour later."
"No trace of the thief?"
"None. I cannot see why any one
should steal dynamite, certainly none
of our men, for they have all they
need to use legitimately."
"Do you think this connects with
the theft?" suddenly and rather anx
iously inquired the manager.
As he spoke he extended a soiled,
creased fragment of paper to Brock
Across its face in pencil was scrawl
ed the words:
"i got the dinimit. looft Out! I'm
going to get evin."
"I found that pushed under the
door of my office, first thing this
morning," explained Boyd. "What do
you think of it?"
"A crank or a sensation monger,"
I should say," replied Brock. "I would
pay no attention to it"
"But I fear that the dynamite and
the threat connect," said the man
ager. "You know some of the em
ployes we have discharged from time
to time have been surly, menacing
"But nothing ever came of it," sub
mitted Brock. "I will keep this in
mind, though, and pursue an inves
tigation." That afternon at quitting time, as
homeward-bound Brock was passing
a drinking resort, hoots and the
sight of a struggling figure attracted
A ragged, wretched looking man
was battling off a swarm of rough
tormentors. They had pinned a card
to his coat with "Kick me!" scrawled
upon it, had throw the cap of the
poor fellow into a watering trough,
and had bundled him about until he
was half frantic, tearing hjs thin,
threadbare clothing and tripping him
over into the mud of the street.
In a flash Brock recognized him,
as Limpy Ted, a half-witted fellow
whose father had been employed at
the plant, and had met with a fatal
accident in its service. The company .
had given his widow a niggardly in
demnity. When it was used up she
demanded that the company give her
son work. This they did, but Limpy's '
erratic spirit could not come under
the working system and they were
forced to discharge him. After that
Limpy hung around the works, the
butt of the workmen. Some idle loi
terers had been baiting him just now.
"You miserable scum!" shrieked
the frenzied Limpy. "You don't know
what's coming, I'll get even with you
and the works, see if I dont!"
"Shame on you, men!" cried
Brock, rushing forward and rescuing
Limpy from his tormentors. The
crowd drew back abashed, for they
respected Brock, who soothingly led
Limpy away from the scene and ar
ranged his disordered atflre, bought
him a new cap at the nearest store,
and gave him a little change.
His extreme kindness broke down
all the resentment m Limpy's nature.
His mood had changed and he was
sobbing out his gratitude.
"You're a good friend," he said.
"I won't hurt you, if I do the rest."
"Hurt nobody, Limpy," advised
Brock. "In a day or two I'll try to
get you some work. Stay away from
the mill, and forget all about, your
"You're a true friend, and I'll try,"
pledged Limpy brokenly and wander
It was two hours later when Brock
and his parents weer startled by a
vast rumbling of the earth and a
frightfully detonating explosion.
"What was that?" gasped Mrs.
Wilton in terror.
"Over in the direction of the old
oil well " began her husband, but
Brock was out of the house and rush
ing excitedly in the direction indi
cated before he could complete the
Less than three hundred yards of
---i i ni iin --- - --- - ---AAAAAlAA,y"