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FAT

the ENEMY thatis:

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have a chance, a small chance of pulling through.

He had never killed a man. The thought of murder made him creepy. But this feeling was not born of any value he placed on the life of a fellow human. It was rather of the dread of punishment and a superstitious fear. He had heard of men who had taken life being ever after unable to sleep, the victim being always prevent in the slayer’s imagination. All rot, of course, but the thought made his scalp prickle, But this would not be murder; it would simply be the old, old law of self - preservation—

Dick was becoming impatient in his demands for water

“You haven’t been playing fair, you swindling thief!” he finally cried out in a weak voice.

At the thought of his having been discovered, Binns’ hot anger flared up as though the accusation had been unjust. Hate filled him, and his hand moved back, shot forward. A spurt of flame leaped out, and the pleading Dick slumped to the sand.

Binns, deathly sick now, mopped his face with a shaking hand, and stood staring dazedly at the thing on the ground; then he backed away.

“God!” he mumbled, as he looked in fascination at the huddled form, At last tearing his eyes from the horrible object, he turned and ran frantically, stumbling over the uneven ground, falling again and again, up again and on and on, until he fell exhausted,

He lay panting for some time, he did not know how long, with eyes wide open. Alter awhile he began to doze fitfully, only to awaken each time with a start, for the figure with the cup was always before him. He reenacted the scene time and again —the pleading man, the flash of the gun, the slow sinking to the ground of his companion.

At last he became calmer, got up and started on again. He hadn't any idea of which way he had been running; it might have been in a circle. That would never do. He must find something to go by. There was that bright star over there, tho one that had fascinated him so, hanging above the horizon. If he kept toward that, he could at least keep a general course, Good old star! He'd follow it as long as it shone,

He staggered on, If only he, could get rid of that infernal thing before his eyes, that huddled thing on the ground — But wouldn't he have been, a fool to give away the water — wouldn’t he? He had as good a right to his life as any other fellow. Sure! A better right than thea thing he bad left back there. It would have died, anyhow.

He stopped and stared, beginning to sweat, The faint shadows cast by the sand dunes assumed grotesque shapes. One of the smaller sand heaps looked like that thing —He leaned forward, peering intently. He could have sworn it moved. He laughed aloud. He was fool to get the jumps that way. Then he tumbled on again. Ta his horror he had forgotten to drink, although his throat was torturing him, He imagined another one of those damnable shapes moved. He went forward and kicked at it savagely.

Ho went on again, staggering, half delirious, and growing weak in the knees. Suddenly he again stopped and stared. Still another shape. Well, he wouldn't be fooled this time. He staggered forward to kick it — The thing sat up and held out that intolerable cup.

Binns plunged forward and fell on his face. The shape crawled to his side, felt over him, searching for the canteen, finally found it, raised it to its lips and sucked at the contents, then tried feebly to turn the fallen Binns over to pour the few remaining drops of water down his throat, . .

At daylight a party of men found two bodies lying on the sand. A man stooped over one of them

This here guy,” he said, “is breathin’ yet, Looks like he'd been burnt with a bullet side of his head. Ain't nothin’ much the matter but starvation, though. Reckon we can bring him round all right.” What about other one, Bill?”

Bill turned the other body over

Two close-set little eyes stared up at the sky which they did not see.

“Couldn’t be any deader,” announced Bill. “IS funny, too,” he went on musingly, “that this guy should be the first to peter out—he's a whole lot huskler’n the other one.”

face uy the aly

WILL USE TEAR GAS ON BOOT- LEGGERS HIEF of Police Truax and District Attorney Lovejoy of Fresno, Call- fornia, recently received a supply of the wherewithal with which to make boot- leggers weep. A consignment of tear gas bombs, guaranteed to wring tears from the most hardened crimins; is to be used for the purpose of persuading reluctant liquor law violators to open their doors before taking time to des. troy evidence,