The Iron Marshal
Chapter One
A BRUTAL KICK in the ribs jolted him from a sound sleep and he lunged to his feet. The kicker, obviously a railroad detective, stepped back and drew a gun.
"Don't try it," he advised. "Just get off."
"Now? Are you crazy? At this speed I'd get killed."
"Tough. You either jump off or you get shot off."
Shanaghy looked at the gun. "Ah, what's the use? For two-bits I'd take that away from you and make you eat it, but I'll take the jump."
He turned and swung over the edge of the open gondola, hung for an instant to gauge the speed, then dropped from the ladder. He hit the ground knees bent and rolled head over heels down the embankment, coming to his feet in a cloud of dust to hear a fading shout.
". . . an' take your dirty duds with you!"
A bundle came flying from the train and hit the ground several hundred yards farther along. Then the train was past and he watched the caboose disappearing down the singing rails.
Shanaghy spat dust and swore at the disappearing train. "Ah, me lad!" he said bitterly. "There will come a ...
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