The Boss of Taroomba

by E. W. Hornung

  CHAPTER XII

  FALLEN AMONG THIEVES

  There was life in Engelhardt yet, though for some time he lay as good asdead. The thing that revived him was the name of Naomi Pryse on the lipsof the late ringer of the Taroomba shed. The piano-tuner listened formore without daring to open his eyes or to move a muscle. And more camewith a horrifying flow of foul words.

  "She had the lip to sack me! But I'll be even with her before thenight's out. Yes, by cripes, by sunrise she'll wish she'd never beenborn!"

  "It's not the girl we're after," said Bill's voice, with a pause and aspit. "It's the silver." And Engelhardt could hear him puffing at hispipe.

  "It's gold and silver. She's the gold."

  "I didn't dislike her," said the sailor-man. "I'd leave her be."

  "She didn't sack you from the shed. Twelve pound a week it meant, withthat image over the board!"

  "Bo's'n'd let the whole thing be, I do believe," said Bill, "if we give'im 'alf a chance."

  "Not me," said Bo's'n. "I'll stick to my messmates. But we've stiffenedtwo people already. It's two too many."

  "What about your skipper down at Sandridge?"

  "Well, I reckon he's a stiff 'un, too."

  "Then none o' your skite, mate," said Bill, knocking out a clay pipeagainst his heel. "Look ye here, lads; it's a blessed Providence that'sraked us together, us three. Here's me, straight out o' quod, comingback like a bird to the place where there's a good thing on. Here'sBo's'n, he's bashed in his skipper's skull and cut and run for it. Wemeet and we pal on. The likeliest pair in the Colony! And here's oldSimons, knocked cock-eye by this 'ere gal, and swearing revenge by allthat's bloody. He has a couple of horses, too--just the very thing wewanted--so he's our man. Is he on? He is. Do we join hands an' cuss an'swear to see each other through? We do--all three. Don't we go to thetownship for a few little necessaries an' have a drink on the wholething? We do. Stop a bit! Doesn't a chap and a horse come our way, firstshot off? Don't we want another horse, an' take it, too, ay and cookthat chap's hash in fit an' proper style? Of course we do. Then what'sthe good o' talking? Tigerskin used to say, 'We'll swing together,matey, or by God we'll drive together in a coach-and-four with yellerpanels and half-a-dozen beggars in gold lace and powdered wigs.' Sothat's what I say to you. There's that silver. We'll have it and clearout with it at any blessed price. We've let out some blood already. Afour-hundred-gallon tankful more or less can make no difference now. Wecan only swing once. So drink up, boys, and make your rotten lives happywhile you have 'em. There's only one thing to settle: whether do westart at eleven, or twelve, or one in the morning?"

  Engelhardt heard a pannikin passed round and sucked at by all three.Then a match was struck and a pipe lit. His veins were frozen; he waspast a tremor.

  "Eleven's too early," said Simons; "it's getting on for ten already. I'mfor a spell before we start; there's nothing like a spell to steady yournerve."

  "I'd make it eight bells--if not seven," argued the Bo's'n. "The moon'llbe up directly. The lower she is when we start, the better for us. Yousaid the station lay due east, didn't you, Bill? Then it'll be easysteering with a low moon."

  The other two laughed.

  "These 'ere sailors," said Bill, "they're a blessed treat. Always insuch an almighty funk of getting bushed. I've known dozens, and they'reall alike."

  "There's no fun in it," said the Bo's'n. "Look at this poor devil."

  Engelhardt held his breath.

  "I suppose he _is_ corpsed?" said Bill.

  "Dead as junk."

  "Well, he's saved us the trouble. I'd have stuck the beggar as soon asI'd stick a sheep. There's only one more point, lads. Do we knock up herladyship, and make her let us into the store----"

  "Lug her out by her hair," suggested Simons. "I'll do that part."

  "Or do we smash into it for ourselves? That's the game Tigerskin an' metried, ten years ago. It wasn't good enough. You know how it panned out.Still, we ain't got old Pryse to reckon with now. He was a terror, hewas! So what do you say, boys? Show hands for sticking-up--and now forbreaking in. Then that settles it."

  Engelhardt never knew which way it was settled.

  "The she-devil!" said Simons. "The little snake! I can see her now,when she come along the board and sang out for the tar-boy all on herown account. That little deader, there, he was with her. By cripes, ifshe isn't dead herself by morning she'll wish she was! I wonder howshe'll look to-night? Not that way, by cripes, that's one thing sure!You leave her to me, mates! I shall enjoy that part. She sha'n't die,because that's what she'd like best; but she shall apologize to me undermy own conditions--you wait and see what they are. They'll make yousmile. The little devil! Twelve pound a week! By cripes, but I'll makeher wish she was as dead as her friend here. I'll teach her----"

  "Stiffen me purple," roared Bill, "if the joker's not alive after all!"

  The rogues were sitting round their fire in a triangle, Simons with hisback to the supposed corpse; when he looked over his shoulder, there washis dead man glaring at him with eyes like blots of ink on blood-stainedpaper.

  Engelhardt, in fact, had been physically unable to lie still any longerand hear Naomi so foully threatened and abused. But the moment he sat uphe saw his folly, and tried, quick as thought, to balance it by gapingrepeatedly in Simons's face.

  "I beg your pardon, I'm sure," said he, in the civilest manner. "I'dbeen asleep, and couldn't think where I was. I assure you I hadn't theleast intention of interrupting you."

  His voice was still terribly husky. Bill seized the water-bag and stuckit ostentatiously between his knees. Simons only scowled.

  "Please go on with what you were saying," said Engelhardt, crawling tothe fire and sitting down between these two worthies. "All I ask is adrink and a crust. I've been out all day without bite or sup. Yes, andall last night as well! That's all I ask. I am dead tired. I'd sleeplike a stone."

  No one spoke, but presently, without a word, Bill took a pannikin,filled it from the water-bag, and sullenly handed it to the piano-tuner.Then he knifed a great wedge from a damper and tossed it across.Engelhardt could scarcely believe his eyes, so silently, so unexpectedlywas it done. He thanked the fellow with unnecessary warmth, but no sortof notice was taken of his remarks. He was half afraid to touch withoutexpress permission the water which he needed so sorely. He evenhesitated, pannikin in hand, as he looked from one man to the other; butthe villanous trio merely stared at him with fixed eyeballs, and at lasthe raised it to his lips and swallowed a pint at one draught.

  Even the mouthful he had fought for earlier in the evening--even thatdrop had sent a fresh stream of vitality swimming through his veins. Butthis generous draught made a new man of him in ten seconds. He wantedmore, it is true; but the need was now a mere desire; and then there wasthe damper under his eyes. He never knew how hungry he was until he hadquenched his thirst and started to eat. Until he had finished the sliceof damper, he took no more heed of his companions than a dog with abone. Bill threw him a second wedge, and this also he devoured withoutlooking up. But his great thirst had never been properly slaked, and thetreatment he was now receiving emboldened him to hold out the pannikinfor more water. Even this was granted him, but still without a word.Since he had arisen and joined them by the fire, not one of the men hadaddressed a single remark to him, and his own timid expressions ofthanks and attempts at affability had been received all alike inimpenetrable silence. Nor were the ruffians talking among themselves.They just sat round the fire, their rough faces reddened by the glow,their weapons scintillating in the light, and stared fixedly at thelittle man who had stumbled among them. Their steady taciturnity soonbecame as bad to bear as the conversation he had overheard whilefeigning insensibility. There was a kind of sinister contemplation intheir looks which was vague, intangible, terrifying. Then their vileplot ringing in his ears, with dark allusions to a crime alreadycommitted, made the piano-tuner's position sickening, intolerable. Hespoke again, and again received no answer. He announced that
he wasextremely grateful to them for saving his life, but that he must nowpush on to the township. They said nothing to this. He wished themgood-night; they said nothing to that. Then he got to his feet, andfound himself on the ground again quicker than he had risen. Bill hadgrabbed him by the ankle, still without a syllable. When Engelhardtlooked at him, however, the heavy face and squinting eyes met him with aseries of grimaces, so grotesque, so obscene, that he was driven to buryhis face in his one free hand, and patiently to await his captors'will. He heard the Bo's'n chuckling; but for hours, as it seemed to him,that was all.

  "Who _is_ the joker?" said Bill, at last. "What does he do for hisrations?"

  "They say as 'e tunes pianners," said Simons.

  "Then he don't hang out on Taroomba?"

  "No; 'e only come the other day, an' goes an' breaks his arm off abuck-jumper. So they were saying at the shed."

  "Well, he enjoyed his supper, didn't he? It's good to see 'em enjoyingtheirselves when their time is near. Boys, you was right; it would havebeen a sin to send 'im to 'ell with an empty belly an' a sandy throat.If ever I come to swing, I'll swing with a warm meal in my innards, myoath!"

  Engelhardt held up his head.

  "So you mean to kill me, do you?" said he, very calmly, but with a kindof scornful indignation. Bill gave him a horrible leer, but no answer.

  "I suppose there's nothink else for it," said Simons, half-regretfully;"though mark you, mates, I'm none so keen on the kind o' game."

  "No more ain't I," cried the Bo's'n, with vigor. "I'd give the cove achance, Bill."

  "How?" said Bill.

  "I'd lash the beggar to a tree and leave him to snuff out for hisself."

  Engelhardt laughed aloud in mock gratitude.

  "Oh, I ain't partickler as to ways," said Bill. "One way's as good asanother for me. There's no bloomin' 'urry, any'ow. The moon ain't upyet, and before we go this beggar's got to tell us things. He heard whatwe was saying, mates. I seen it in his eye. Didn't you, you swine?"

  Engelhardt took no kind of notice.

  "Didn't you--you son of a mangy bandicoot?"

  Still Engelhardt would have held his tongue; but Bill started kickinghim on one side, and Simons on the other; and the pain evoked an answerin a note of shrill defiance.

  "I did!" he cried. "I heard every word."

  "We're after that silver."

  "I know you are."

  "You've seen it?"

  "I have."

  "Tell us all about it."

  "Not I!"

  For this he got a kick on each side.

  "Is it in the store yet?"

  No answer.

  "Is the chest easy to find?"

  No answer.

  "Is it covered up?"

  "Or underground?"

  "Or made to look like something else?"

  Each man contributed a question; none elicited a word; no more did theirboots; it was no use kicking him.

  There was a long pause. Then Bill said:

  "You've lost your hat. You need another. Here you are."

  He had blundered to his feet, stepped aside out of the ring of light,and spun a wide-awake into Engelhardt's lap. He started. It was adornedwith a blue silk fly-veil.

  "Recognize it?"

  He had recognized it at once; it was Sam Rowntree's; and Sam Rowntreehad been missing, yesterday, before Engelhardt himself said his secretfarewell to the homestead.

  He looked for more. No more was said. The villains had relapsed intothat silence which was more eloquent of horror than all their threats.But Bill now flung fresh branches on the fire; the wood crackled; theflames spurted starward; and in the trebled light, Engelhardt, peeringamong the trees for some further sign of Sam, saw that which set thepores pringling all over his skin.

  It was the glint of firelight upon a pair of spurs that hung motionlessin the scrub--not a yard from the ground--not ten paces from the fire.

  He looked again; the spurs were fixed to a pair of sidespring boots; theboots hung out of a pair of moleskins, with a few inches of worsted sockin between. All were steady, immovable as the stars above. He could seeno higher than the knees; but that was enough; a hoarse cry escaped him,as he pointed with a quivering finger, and turned his white face fromman to man.

  Neither Simons nor the Bo's'n would meet his look; but Bill gripped hisarm, with a loud laugh, and dragged him to his feet.

  "Come and have a look at him," he said. "He isn't pretty, but he'll doyou good."

  Next instant Engelhardt stood close to the suspended body of theunfortunate Rowntree. Both hands were tied behind his back, his hair wasin his eyes, and the chin drooped forward upon his chest like that of aman lost in thought.

  "See what you'll come to," said Bill, giving the body a push that set itswinging like a pendulum, while the branch creaked horribly overhead."See what you'll come to if you don't speak out! It was a good tenminutes before he stopped kicking and jingling his spurs; you'relighter, and it'd take you longer. Quarter of an hour, I guess, ortwenty minutes."

  Engelhardt had reeled, and would have fallen, but the Bo's'n jumped upand caught him in his arms.

  He did more.

  "Listen to reason, messmate," said the sailor, with a touch of rudefriendliness in his lowered tone. "There ain't no sense in keeping mumwith us. If you won't speak, you'll swing at the yard-arm along witht'other cove in a brace of shakes; if you will, you'll get a chancewhether or no. Besides, what good do you think you can do? We know allthat's worth knowing. Anything you tell us'll make less trouble in atthe homestead--not more."

  "All right," said Engelhardt, faintly. "Let me sit down; I'll tell youanything you like."

  "That's more like. Take my place, then you'll be stern-on to that poordevil. Now then, Bill, fire away. The little man's hisself again."

  "Good for him," growled Bill. "Look at me, you stuck pig, and answerquestions. Where's that chest?"

  "In the store."

  "Didn't I say so! Never been shifted! Whereabouts in the store?"

  "Inside the counter."

  "Much of a chest to bust into?"

  "Two locks, and clamps all over."

  "Where's the keys?"

  "I don't know. Miss Pryse keeps them."

  "She won't keep 'em long. See here, you devil, if you look at me againlike that I'll plug your eyes into your mouth! You seem to know a fatlot about this silver. Have you seen it, or haven't you?"

  "I have."

  "What is there?"

  "Not much. A couple of candlesticks; a few spoons; some old skewers; abiscuit-box; a coffee-pot--but it's half ivory; an epergne----"

  "What the 'ells that? None o' your Greek, you swine!"

  "It's a thing for flowers."

  "Why didn't you say so, then? What else?"

  "Let me see----"

  "You'd best look slippy!"

  "Well, there's not much more. A cake-basket, some napkin-rings, and apair of nut-crackers. And that's about all. It's all _I_ saw, anyhow."

  "All silver?"

  "I shouldn't think it."

  "You liar! You plucky well know it is. And not a bad lot neither, evenif it _was_ the lot. By the Lord, I've a good mind to strip and sit youon that fire for not telling me the truth!"

  "Easy, mate, easy!" remonstrated the Bo's'n. "That sounds near enough."

  "By cripes," cried Simons, "it's near enough for me. 'Tain't the silverI want. It's the gold, and that's the girl!"

  "You won't get her," said Engelhardt.

  "Why not?"

  "She'll put a bullet through you."

  "Can she shoot straight?"

  "As straight as her father, I should say. I never saw him. But I've seenher."

  "What do?"

  "Stand in the veranda and knock a crow off the well fence--with her ownrevolver."

  "By cripes, _that's_ a lie."

  (It was.)

  "I'm not so blooming sure," said Bill. "I recollect how the old mandropped Tigerskin at nigh twenty yards. She was with him, to
o, at thetime--a kid out of bed. I took a shot at her and missed. She'd be aslikely as not to knock a hole through one or other of us, lads, if youhadn't got me to see you through. You trust to Bill for ideas! He's gotone now, but it'll keep. See here, you swine, you! When was it you sawall what you pretend to have seen, eh?"

  Engelhardt laughed. His answer could do no harm, and it gave him athrill of satisfaction to score even so paltry a point against hisbestial antagonist.

  "It was the day you two came around the station."

  "That morning?"

  "Yes."

  "Where did you see it?"

  "In the store."

  "Before we came?"

  "While you were there. When Miss Pryse locked the door, it was all overthe place. While we were in the kitchen she got it swept out of sight."

  "Good God!" screamed Bill; "if only I'd known. You little devil, if onlyI'd guessed it!"

  His vile face was convulsed and distorted with greed and rage; hishairy, four-fingered fist shaking savagely in Engelhardt's face. Bo's'nremonstrated again.

  "What's the sense o' that, messmate? For God's sake shut it! A fat lotwe could ha' done without a horse between us."

  "We could have rushed the store, stretched 'em stiff----"

  "And carried a hundredweight o' silver away in our bluies! No, no, myhearty; it's a darn sight better as it is. What do you say, Simons?"

  "I'm glad you waited, but I'm bleedin' dry."

  "An' me, too," said Bill, sulkily, as he uncorked a black bottle. "Giveus that pannikin, you spawn!"

  Engelhardt handed it over unmoved. He was past caring what was said ordone to him personally. Bill drank first.

  "Here's fun!" said he, saluting the other two simultaneously with asingle cross-eyed leer.

  "'An' they say so--an' we hope so!'" chanted the Bo's'n, who came next."Anyway, here's to the moon, for there she spouts!"

  As he raised his pannikin, he pointed it over Engelhardt's shoulder, andthe latter involuntarily turned his head. He brought it back nextmoment, with a jerk and a shudder. Far away, behind the scrub, on theedge of the earth, lay the moon, with a silvery pathway leading up toher, and a million twigs and branches furrowing her face. But againstthe top of the great white disc there fell those horrible boots andspurs, in grisly silhouette, and still swaying a little to the mournfulaccompaniment of the groaning bough above. Surely the works of God andman were never in ghastlier contrast than when Engelhardt turned hishead without thinking and twitched it back with a shudder. And yet tohim this was not the worst; he was now in time to catch that which madethe blood run colder still in all his veins.