The Redemption Of Kenneth Galt

ng as a restaurant, at which fried spring chicken, hot biscuits, and a cup of coffee were advertised on a crude placard for twenty-five cents, he

freight on ti

heard her blow at the crossing," he answ

the con

lay over at Red Hill to s

e off his lantern to light it. "The engine will water here at the tank," he said, gruffly. "The cab will s

, now barren and out of use, between him and the train, and across them presently shot the wavering gleam of the engine's headlight. On it came, growing larger and steadier till it had passed him, and with the harsh creakin

he ordered. "You needn't hang around my

t-boards overhead, the brakeman disappeared in the cloud

k!" Walton

s had a game on every Sunday. I was just wishing I had enough boodle ahead to lay over and wal

iding the eyes of his friend. "I want to get to A

pass the time with a game. It's down-grade," he laughed, impulsively; "we might turn old

e railroad men," Walton tried to j

ay, and stick it to the first galoot that comes along. Oh, I am on!" There was a sound of rushing water from the ta

replied. "I want to get to Atlanta, and haven't

e. He raised his lantern till the yellow light fell on Walton's face, and he stared in

t's the sum and substance of it. I

y door-seals. Climb in. I'll swing on as we leave the yard. Make

and some yellow blanks for reports and telegrams. There was a hard, smooth, backless bench near the door, and a narrow cot with wooden sides and ends. On an inverted box stood a tin pitcher, a wash-basin, and a c

of mystic moonlight, lay the town he now loved with a yearning which all but tore his heart from his body. He was looking at the old place for the last time unless, unless-and his blood ran cold at the thought-unless he was brought back by the officers of the law to answer for his crime. Yes, that might be his fate, after all. A city so well policed as Atlanta would prove a poor hiding-place for a penniless fugitive. A telegram

aying, "I'd rather be the daddy of one under lock and key,

there was no other way. Escape meant a chance, at least, for

country house he well knew. It was there, at a house-party, that he had been thrown for the first time with Margaret Dearing and had learned to love her. His eye

proud brow was burning under the shame of having trusted a coward and a knave to the extent of having had her name coupled with his. He stood in the centre of the car, swayed back and forth by its ruthless motion. Those m

to that of the caboose. There was a scraping of soles and heels on the tin cover

ade, and we started quick. But why don't you take a seat?" He raised his lantern, and the

Jack," Walton said. "I a

It's a tough ride to Atlanta, along with our stops and sidings and waits on through tr

otested, thoughtful, even in his

've got to be up till daybreak. Crawl in, I tell you!" Walton sat down on the edge of the cot, a trembli

flask of whiskey. "It is actually the smoothest article that ever slid down a human throat," he laughed, a

" Walton returned. "I may ask for it

nd paying for thirsts, he couldn't buy mine for all the money in the State. I've got it trained till it walks a chalk-line. I go without a drink sometimes for days at a time, just so she will get good and ripe and have a sort of clinging rasp on her. But no joking, old man

alton said. "When I get to Atlanta I'll look around and see what wil

the lamp down and pushed his lantern into a corner, so that its light would not fall on the face of his