he was about to rid himself of this pest.

True, the gang was broken up. But it might rise again. Donnegan had
fallen upon it like a blight. But with Donnegan out of the way would not
Suds come back to him instantly? And would not Kennebec Lou himself
return in admiration of a man who had done what he, Kennebec, could not
do? With those two as a nucleus, how greatly might he not build!

Justice must be done to Lefty Joe. He approached this murder as a
statesman approaches the removal of a foe from the path of public
prosperity. There was no more rancor in his attitude. It was rather the
blissful largeness of the heart that comes to the politician when he
unearths the scandal which will blight the race of his rival.

With the peaceful smile of a child, therefore, Lefty Joe lay stretched
at full length along the top of the car and made his choice of weapons.
On the whole, his usual preference, day or night, was for a revolver.
Give him a gat and Lefty was at home in any company. But he had reasons
for transferring his alliance on this occasion. In the first place, a
box car which is reeling and pitching to and fro, from side to side, is
not a very good shooting platform--even for a snapshot like Lefty Joe.
Also, the pitch darkness in the car would be a further annoyance to good
aim. And in the third and most decisive place, if he were to miss his
first shot he would not be extremely apt to place his second bullet. For
Donnegan had a reputation with his own revolver. Indeed, it was said
that he rarely carried the weapon, because when he did he was always
tempted too strongly to use it. So that the chances were large that
Donnegan would not have the gun now. Yet if he did have it--if he,
Lefty, did miss his first shot--then the story would be brief and bitter
indeed.

On the other hand, a knife offered advantages almost too numerous to be
listed. It gave one the deadly assurance which only comes with the
knowledge of an edge of steel in one's hand. And when the knife reaches
its mark it ends a battle at a stroke.

Of course these doubts and considerations pro and con went through the
mind of the tramp in about the same space of time that it requires for a
dog to waken, snap at a fly, and drowse again. Eventually, he took out
his knife. It was a sheath knife which he wore from a noose of silk
around his throat, and it always lay closest to his heart. The blade of
the knife was of the finest Spanish steel, in the days wh