The Trail of the White Mule

he smell of bacon scorching filled his very soul with the loathing of food. The sight of Joe calmly filling his

tmare hole to Casey. Hank came tittering to the bunk and offered him a cup of coffee, muddy from too lo

he still we made awhile back that, ain't quite so kicky. Been agin' it in wood an' charcoal. That tones 'er d

se-lipped from yesterday's debauch. Hank's whole face, especially in the region of his eyes, was puffed unbecomingly. Casey, squinting an angry eye at Hank and the cup of coffee, spar

ts scientific manufacture. There is grim significance in the sardonic humor of the man who first named it White Mule. The kick is certain and terrific; frequently it is fatal as well. The worst of

x-shooter, upset his judgment. The poison in his further potations made a wholly different man of Case

in his head eased perceptibly and his nerves ceased to quiver. After a while he sat up, gazed longingly at the water bucket and crawled down from the bunk. He drank largel

inly to the door, opened it and threw out the coffee-cup and all. Which was nature flying a storm

tch," he growled. Joe pushed the bott

d as pups over it. He thinks it's the real article-but I dunno. Shore laid yuh out, Casey,

n't want nobody tellin' 'im whether 'e's sick 'r not.-he KNOWS 'e's sick!" He drank, and swore that it was rotten stuff not fit for a hawg (which was abs

e yuh steady work an' a cut-in on the deal. We been cleanin' up purty good money-but Mart says the market ain't what it was; too many gone in

it?" Casey halted in the middle o

as the boss's back was turned? I knowed yuh needed it; that's why. We all needed it. I'm just tellin' yuh the boss don't approve of no celebrations like we had ye

the nearest bench, laid his injured hand carefully on the table and leaned his ac

had once had a home, a wife and a fortune, he declared, and what had happened? Laws and cops had driven him out, had robbed him of his home and hi

en betrayed and deserted by a man he had befriended; one Barney

what I'd do t' that hound uh hell!" he decl

here was in all the world not one friend of Casey Ryan's. They were good friends and good fellows,

he door opened and he whom they called Mart walked in. Joe introduced him to Casey, who sat still upon the bench and looked him over with drunken disparagement. C

ocked in the stone hut. He glanced from the bottle to Casey, eyeing him sharply. Drunk or sober, Casey was not the man t

"You're still hitting it up, I see. Joe, take that bottle away from him. When he's sober enough to talk straight, I'll give him the

im to hear Mart order it taken from him. Away back in his mind where reason had gone into hiding, Casey knew that some gr

bered that in his bunk, under the bedding, he had concealed something that would make him the equal of them all. He fumbled un

as groggily making up his mind to crawl into his bunk and take another sleep. He sti

ing a foot as if it weighed a great deal, and was groping with it in the air trying to locate the edge of the lower b

he saw Mart and Joe lift their hands and hold them there, palms outward, a bit higher than their heads. Something in the sight enraged Casey unr

mmanded him to throw up his hands-and it was then that Casey Ryan's Irish fighting blood boiled and bubbled over. Unconsciously he pushed his hat forward over one eye, drew back his lips in a f

shed. Through his slits of swollen lids Casey glared toward the voice and recognized Barney Oakes, grinning at him wi

h think you're doin', anyway? Take 'em off! It's Casey Ryan that's tellin' y

otesting 'squawk. "I brung 'em all the way over here to your rescue! They bru

'ner-but he won't set on Casey Ryan's remains-you c'n ask anybody if any cor'ners ever set on Casey Ryan yit! Naw." Casey sn

liness, and his laugh vibrated his entire front contagiously so that the others grinned and took it for grant

I admit it," the portly man remarked. "I'm the cor

d swinging to a certain degree of lucidity that was neverthele

urned it to his pocket. One who knew Casey intimately would have detected a hidden purpose in his manner. The warning was faint, indefinable at best, and difficult to picture in

petulance. "Anybody got a cigarette? I'm

r noncommittally, eyed again the handcuffs on Mart and Joe, sent a veiled glance toward Barney Oakes and turned away. He still held the center of the stage. Fully expecting to

ready questioning his two prisoners about other members of the gang; but he

re all goin' to need 'im. Casey Ryan never stood around yit whilst his friends was hobbled up by a shurf-turn 'em loose an'

e a yell of warning, ducked and ran straight away from the group. The sheriff yelled also a

ght I couldn't-I'll blow up a bunch of 'em to-d

he sheriff's posse. Casey sent one malevolent glanc

ciousness, like the dynamite, annihilated itself with the explosion. "Missed 'im! Casey Ryan's gittin

n the bridge of his nose, and wabbled over to his bunk. This time his foot found the edge

f he were an animal trainer's apprentice entering the lion's cage,