It all started as a lost bet in a bar in East Peoria back in 1929. My grandfather was a firmean on the Norfolk and Western Line and had some R &R and found himself in the most delapidated bar in the area. The floors were dirt, the beer was warm and the women were cheap. Or vice versa...can't recall that part. Anyway, the Branson twins were in town after a hard days ride from Joliet and were looking for trouble. Sure they were only 3' 10" and 4' 2" respectively but they had their mind set on bloodshed. "Tiny", the taller one, stepped up to my grandfather and looked him in dead in the navel and said, "