CHAPTER XXXVIII
HANDS UP!
All this time Lieutenant Mallory had been thinking as hard as anofficer in an ambuscade. His harrowing experiences and incessantdefeats of the past days had unnerved him and shattered hisself-confidence. He was not afraid, but intensely disgusted. He satabsent-mindedly patting Marjorie on the back and repeating:
"Don't worry, honey, they're not going to hurt anybody. They don'twant anything but our money. Don't worry, I won't let 'em hurt you."
But he could not shake off a sense of nausea. He felt himself arepresentative of the military prowess of the country, and here he wasas helpless as a man on parole.
The fact that Mallory was a soldier occurred to a number of thepassengers simultaneously. They had been trained by early studies inthose beautiful works of fiction, the school histories of the UnitedStates, and by many Fourths of July, to believe that the Americansoldier is an invincible being, who has never been defeated and neverknown fear.
They surged up to Mallory in a wave of hope. Dr. Temple, beingnearest, spoke first. Having learned by experience that his ownprayers were not always answered as he wished, had an impulse to trysome weapon he had never used.
"Young man," he pleaded across the back of a seat, "will you kindlylend me a gun?"
Mallory answered sullenly: "Mine is in my trunk on the train ahead,damn it. If I had it I'd have a lot of fun."
Mrs. Whitcomb had an inspiration. She ran to her berth, and came backwith a tiny silver-plated revolver.
"I'll lend you this. Sammy gave it to me to protect myself in Nevada!"
Mallory smiled at the .22-calibre toy, broke it open, and displayed anempty cylinder.
"Where are the pills that go with it?" he said.
"Oh, Sammy wouldn't let me have any bullets. He was afraid I'd hurtmyself."
Mallory returned it, with a bow. "It would make an excellentnut-cracker."
"Aren't you going to use it?" Mrs. Whitcomb gasped.
"It's empty," Mallory explained.
"But the robbers don't know that! Couldn't you just overawe them withit?"
"Not with that," said Mallory, "unless they died laughing."
Mrs. Wellington pushed forward: "Then what the devil are you going todo when they come?"
Mallory answered meekly: "If they request it, I shall hold up myhands."
"And you won't resist?" Kathleen gasped.
"Not a resist."
"And he calls himself a soldier!" she sneered.
Mallory writhed, but all he said was: "A soldier doesn't have to be ajackass. I know just enough about guns not to monkey with the wrongend of 'em."
"Coward!" she flung at him. He turned white, but Marjorie red, andmade a leap at her, crying: "He's the bravest man in the world. Yousay a word, and I'll scratch your eyes out."
This reheartened Mallory a little, and he laughed nervously, as herestrained her. Kathleen retreated out of danger, with a parting shot:"Our engagement is off."
"Thanks," Mallory said, and put out his hand: "Will you return thebracelet?"
"I never return such things," said Kathleen.
The scene was so painful and such an anachronism that Dr. Temple triedto renew a more pressing subject: "It's your opinion then that we'dbest surrender?"
"Of course--since we can't run."
Wedgewood broke in impatiently: "Well, I consider it a dastardlyoutrage. I'll not submit to it. I'm a subject of His Majesty the----"
"You're a subject of His Majesty the Man Behind the Gun," saidMallory.
"I shall protest, none the less," Wedgewood insisted.
Mallory grinned a little. "Have you any last message to send home toyour mother?"
Wedgewood was a trifle chilled at this. "D-don't talk of such things,"he said.
And by this time the train-robbers had hastily worked their waythrough the other passengers, and reached the frantic inhabitants ofthe sleeper, "Snowdrop."
"Hands up! Higher!! Hands up!"
With a true sense of the dramatic, the robbers sent ahead of them themost hair-raising yells. They arrived simultaneously at each end ofthe aisle, and with a few short sharp commands, straightened thedisorderly rabble into a beautiful line, with all palms aloft and alleyes wide and wild.
One robber drove ahead of him the conductor and the other drove in Mr.Manning, whom he had found trying to crawl between the shelves of thelinen-closet.
The marauders were apparently cattlemen, from their general get-up.Their hats were pulled low, and just beneath their eyes they had drawnbig black silk handkerchiefs, tied behind the ears and hanging to thebreast.
Over their shoulders they had slung the feed-bags of their horses, toserve as receptacles for their swag. Their shirts were chalky withalkali dust. Their legs were encased in heavy chaparejos, and theycarried each a pair of well-used Colt's revolvers that looked as bigas artillery.
When the passengers had shoved and jostled into line, one of the menjabbed the conductor in the back with the muzzle of his gun, andsnarled: "Now speak your little piece, like I learned it to you."
The conductor, like an awkward schoolboy, grinned sheepishly, andspoke, his hands in the air the while:
"Ladies and Gents, these here parties in the black tidies says theywant everybody to hold his or her hands as high as possible till yougit permission to lower 'em; they advise you not to resist, becausethey hate the sight of blood, but prefer it to argument."
The impatient robbers, themselves the prey of fearful anxieties, brokein, barking like a pair of coyotes in a jumble of commands: "Now, lineup with your backs that way, and no back talk. These guns shoot awfuleasy. And remember, as each party is finished with, they are to turnround and keep their hands up, on penalty of gittin' 'em shot off.Line up! Hands up! Give over there!"
Mrs. Jimmie Wellington took her time about moving into position, andher deliberation brought a howl of wrath from the robber: "Get intothat line, you!"
Mrs. Wellington whirled on him: "How dare you, you brute?" And sheturned up her nose at the gun.
The anxious conductor intervened: "Better obey, madame; he's an uglylad."
"I don't mind being robbed," said Mrs. Jimmie, "but I won't endurerudeness."
The robber shook his head in despair, and he tried to wither her withsarcasm: "Pardong, mamselly, would you be so kind and condescendin' asto step into that there car before I blow your husband's gol-blamehead off."
This brought her to terms. She hastened to her place, but put out arestraining hand on Jimmie, who needed no restraint. "Certainly, tosave my dear husband. Don't strike him, Jimmie!"
Then each man stuck one revolver into its convenient holster, and,covering the passengers with the other, proceeded to frisk awayvaluables with a speed and agility that would have looked prettier ifthose impatient-looking muzzles had not pointed here, there andeverywhere with such venomous threats.
And so they worked from each end of the car toward the middle. Theirhands ran swiftly over bodies with a loathsome familiarity that couldonly be resented, not revenged. Their hands dived into pockets, andup sleeves, and into women's hair, everywhere that a jewel or a billmight be secreted. And always a rough growl or a swing of the revolversilenced any protest.
Their heinous fingers had hardly begun to ply, when the solemnstillness was broken by a chuckle and low hoot of laughter, a darkey'sunctuous laughter. At such a place it was more shocking than at afuneral.
"What ails you?" was the nearest robber's demand.
The porter tried to wipe his streaming eyes without lowering hishands, as he chuckled on: "I--I--just thought of sumpum funny."
"Funny!" was the universal groan.
"I was just thinking," the porter snickered, "what mighty poorpickings you-all are goin' to git out of me. Whilst if you had 'a'waited till I got to 'Frisco, I'd jest nachelly been oozin' money."
The robber relieved him of a few dimes and quarters and ordered him toturn round, but the black face whirled back as he heard from the otherend of th
e car Wedgewood's indignant complaint: "I say, this is anoutrage!"
"Ah, close your trap and turn round, or I'll----"
The porter's smile died away. "Good Lawd," he sighed, "they're goin'to skin that British lion! And I just wore myself out on him."
The far-reaching effect of the whole procedure was just beginning todawn on the porter. This little run on the bank meant a period offinancial stringency for him. He watched the hurrying hands a momentor two, then his wrath rose to terrible proportions:
"Look here, man," he shouted at the robber, "ain't you-all goin' toleave these here passengers nothin' a tall?"
"Not on purpose, nigger."
"No small change, or nothin'?"
"Nary a red."
"Then, passengers," the porter proclaimed, while the robber watchedhim in amazement; "then, passengers, I want to give you-all fairwarnin' heah and now: No tips, no whisk-broom!"
Perhaps because their hearts were already overflowing with distress,the passengers endured this appalling threat without comment, and whenthere was a commotion at the other end of the line, all eyes rolledthat way.
Mr. Baumann was making an effort to take his leave, with greatpoliteness.
"Excoose, pleass. I vant to get by, pleass!"
"Get by!" the other robber gasped. "Why, you----"
"But I'm not a passenger," Mr. Baumann urged, with a confidentialsmile, "I've been going through the train myself."
"Much obliged! Hand over!" And a rude hand rummaged his pockets. Itwas a heart-rending sight.
"Oi oi!" he wailed, "don't you allow no courtesies to the profession?"And when the inexorable thief continued to pluck his money, his watch,his scarf-pin, he grew wroth indeed. "Stop, stop, I refuse to pay.I'll go into benkruptcy foist." But still the larceny continued;fingers even lifted three cigars from his pockets, two for himself anda good one for a customer. This loss was grievous, but his wildestprotest was: "Oh, here, my frient, you don't vant my business carts."
"Keep 'em!" growled the thief, and then, glancing up, he saw on thetender inwards of Mr. Baumann's upheld palms two huge glisteners,which their owner had turned that way in a misguided effort to concealthe stones. The robber reached up for them.
"Take 'em. You're velcome!" said Mr. Baumann, with rare presence ofmind. "Those Nevada nearlies looks almost like real."
"Keep 'em," said the robber, as he passed on, and Mr. Baumann almostswooned with joy, for, as he whispered to Wedgewood a moment later:"They're really real!"
Now the eye-chain rolled the other way, for Little Jimmie Wellingtonwas puffing with rage. The other robber, having massaged himthoroughly, but without success, for his pocketbook, noticed thatJimmie's left heel was protruding from his left shoe, and made Jimmieperform the almost incredible feat of standing on one foot, while heunshod him and took out the hidden wealth.
"There goes our honeymoon, Lucretia," he moaned. But she whisperedproudly: "Never mind, I have my rings to pawn."
"Oh, you have, have you? Well, I'll be your little uncle," thekneeling robber laughed, as he overheard, and he continued hisoutrageous search till he found them, knotted in a handkerchief, underher hat.
She protested: "You wouldn't leave me in Reno without a diamond, wouldyou?"
"I wouldn't, eh?" he grunted. "Do you think I'm in this business formy health?"
And he snatched off two earrings she had forgotten to remove.Fortunately, they were affixed to her lobes with fasteners.
Mrs. Jimmie was thoroughbred enough not to wince. She simplycommented: "You brutes are almost as bad as the Customs officers atNew York."
And now another touch of light relieved the gloom. Kathleen was nextin line, and she had been forcing her lips into their most attractivesmile, and keeping her eyes winsomely mellow, for the robber'sbenefit. Marjorie could not see the smile; she could only see thatKathleen was next. She whispered to Mallory:
"They'll get the bracelet! They'll get the bracelet!"
And Mallory could have danced with glee. But Kathleen leanedcoquettishly toward the masked stranger, and threw all her art intoher tone as she murmured:
"I'm sure you're too brave to take my things. I've always admired menwith the courage of Claude Duval."
The robber was taken a trifle aback, but he growled: "I don't know theparty you speak of--but cough up!"
"Listen to her," Marjorie whispered in horror; "she's flirting withthe train-robber."
"What won't some women flirt with!" Mallory exclaimed.
The robber studied Kathleen a little more attentively, as he whippedoff her necklace and her rings. She looked good to him, and sowilling, that he muttered: "Say, lady, if you'll give me a kiss, I'llgive you that diamond ring you got on."
"All right!" laughed Kathleen, with triumphant compliance.
"My God!" Mallory groaned, "what won't some women do for a diamond!"
The robber bent close, and was just raising his mask to collect hisransom, when his confederate glanced his way, and knowing hissusceptible nature, foresaw his intention, and shouted: "Stop it,Jake. You 'tend strictly to business, or I'll blow your nose off."
"Oh, all right," grumbled the reluctant gallant, as he drew the ringfrom her finger. "Sorry, miss, but I can't make the trade," and headded with an unwonted gentleness: "You can turn round now."
Kathleen was glad to hide the blushes of defeat, but Marjorie wasstill more bitterly disappointed. She whispered to Mallory: "He didn'tget the bracelet, after all."
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