CHAPTER V. ONE TURN DESERVES ANOTHER
WHEN the two tramps approached the farmhouse at which Billy hadpurchased food a few hours before the farmer's wife called the dog thatwas asleep in the summer kitchen and took a shotgun down from its hookbeside the door.
From long experience the lady was a reader of character--of hobocharacter at least--and she saw nothing in the appearance of eitherof these two that inspired even a modicum of confidence. Now the youngfellow who had been there earlier in the day and who, wonder of wonders,had actually paid for the food she gave him, had been of a differentstamp. His clothing had proclaimed him a tramp, but, thanks to the razorBridge always carried, he was clean shaven. His year of total abstinencehad given him clear eyes and a healthy skin. There was a freshness andvigor in his appearance and carriage that inspired confidence ratherthan suspicion.
She had not mistrusted him; but these others she did mistrust. When theyasked to use the telephone she refused and ordered them away, thinkingit but an excuse to enter the house; but they argued the matter,explaining that they had discovered an escaped murderer hidingnear-by--in fact in her own meadow--and that they wished only to callup the Kansas City police.
Finally she yielded, but kept the dog by her side and the shotgun in herhand while the two entered the room and crossed to the telephone uponthe opposite side.
From the conversation which she overheard the woman concluded that,after all, she had been mistaken, not only about these two, but aboutthe young man who had come earlier in the day and purchased food fromher, for the description the tramp gave of the fugitive tallied exactlywith that of the young man.
It seemed incredible that so honest looking a man could be a murderer.The good woman was shocked, and not a little unstrung by the thoughtthat she had been in the house alone when he had come and that if he hadwished to he could easily have murdered her.
"I hope they get him," she said, when the tramp had concluded his talkwith Kansas City. "It's awful the carryings on they is nowadays. Why abody can't never tell who to trust, and I thought him such a nice youngman. And he paid me for what he got, too."
The dog, bored by the inaction, had wandered back into the summerkitchen and resumed his broken slumber. One of the tramps was leaningagainst the wall talking with the farmer woman. The other was busilyengaged in scratching his right shin with what remained of the heel ofhis left shoe. He supported himself with one hand on a small table uponthe top of which was a family Bible.
Quite unexpectedly he lost his balance, the table tipped, he was thrownstill farther over toward it, and all in the flash of an eye tramp,table, and family Bible crashed to the floor.
With a little cry of alarm the woman rushed forward to gather up theHoly Book, in her haste forgetting the shotgun and leaving it behind herleaning against the arm of a chair.
Almost simultaneously the two tramps saw the real cause of herperturbation. The large book had fallen upon its back, open; and asseveral of the leaves turned over before coming to rest their eyes wentwide at what was revealed between.
United States currency in denominations of five, ten, and twenty-dollarbills lay snugly inserted between the leaves of the Bible. The tramp wholay on the floor, as yet too surprised to attempt to rise, rolled overand seized the book as a football player seizes the pigskin after afumble, covering it with his body, his arms, and sticking out his elbowsas a further protection to the invaluable thing.
At the first cry of the woman the dog rose, growling, and bounded intothe room. The tramp leaning against the wall saw the brute coming--amongrel hound-dog, bristling and savage.
The shotgun stood almost within the man's reach--a step and it was inhis hands. As though sensing the fellow's intentions the dog wheeledfrom the tramp upon the floor, toward whom he had leaped, and sprang forthe other ragged scoundrel.
The muzzle of the gun met him halfway. There was a deafening roar. Thedog collapsed to the floor, his chest torn out. Now the woman began toscream for help; but in an instant both the tramps were upon her chokingher to silence.
One of them ran to the summer kitchen, returning a moment later witha piece of clothesline, while the other sat astride the victim, hisfingers closed about her throat. Once he released his hold and shescreamed again. Presently she was secured and gagged. Then the twocommenced to rifle the Bible.
Eleven hundred dollars in bills were hidden there, because the womanand her husband didn't believe in banks--the savings of a lifetime. Inagony, as she regained consciousness, she saw the last of their littlehoard transferred to the pockets of the tramps, and when they hadfinished they demanded to know where she kept the rest, loosening hergag that she might reply.
She told them that that was all the money she had in the world, andbegged them not to take it.
"Youse've got more coin dan dis," growled one of the men, "an' youse hadbetter pass it over, or we'll find a way to make youse."
But still she insisted that that was all. The tramp stepped into thekitchen. A wood fire was burning in the stove. A pair of pliers lay uponthe window sill. With these he lifted one of the hot stove-hole coversand returned to the parlor, grinning.
"I guess she'll remember she's got more wen dis begins to woik," hesaid. "Take off her shoes, Dink."
The other growled an objection.
"Yeh poor boob," he said. "De dicks'll be here in a little while. We'dbetter be makin' our get-away wid w'at we got."
"Gee!" exclaimed his companion. "I clean forgot all about de dicks,"and then after a moment's silence during which his evil face underwentvarious changes of expression from fear to final relief, he turned anugly, crooked grimace upon his companion.
"We got to croak her," he said. "Dey ain't no udder way. If dey findsher alive she'll blab sure, an' dey won't be no trouble 'bout gettin' usor identifyin' us neither."
The other shrugged.
"Le's beat it," he whined. "We can't more'n do time fer dis job if westop now; but de udder'll mean--" and he made a suggestive circle with agrimy finger close to his neck.
"No it won't nothin' of de kind," urged his companion. "I got it alldoped out. We got lots o' time before de dicks are due. We'll croak deskirt, an' den we'll beat it up de road AN' MEET DE DICKS--see?"
The other was aghast.
"Wen did youse go nuts?" he asked.
"I ain't gone nuts. Wait 'til I gets t'rough. We meets de dicks,innocent-like; but first we caches de dough in de woods. We tells 'em wehurried right on to lead 'em to dis Byrne guy, an' wen we gets back hereto de farmhouse an' finds wot's happened here we'll be as flabbergastedas dey be."
"Oh, nuts!" exclaimed the other disgustedly. "Youse don't tink yousecan put dat over on any wise guy from Chi, do youse? Who will dey tinkcroaked de old woman an' de ki-yi? Will dey tink dey kilt deyreselves?"
"Dey'll tink Byrne an' his pardner croaked 'em, you simp," repliedCrumb.
Dink scratched his head, and as the possibilities of the scheme filteredinto his dull brain a broad grin bared his yellow teeth.
"You're dere, pal," he exclaimed, real admiration in his tone. "Butwho's goin' to do it?"
"I'll do it," said Crumb. "Dere ain't no chanct of gettin' in bad forit, so I jest as soon do the job. Get me a knife, or an ax from dekitchen--de gat makes too much noise."
Something awoke Billy Byrne with a start. Faintly, in the back of hisconsciousness, the dim suggestion of a loud noise still reverberated. Hesat up and looked about him.
"I wonder what that was?" he mused. "It sounded like the report of agun."
Bridge awoke about the same time, and turned lazily over, raisinghimself upon an elbow. He grinned at Billy.
"Good morning," he said, and then:
Says I, "Then let's be on the float. You certainly have got my goat;You make me hungry in my throat for seeing things that's new. Out theresomewhere we'll ride the range a-looking for the new and strange; Myfeet are tired and need a change. Come on! It's up to you!"
"Come on, then," agreed Billy, coming to his
feet.
As he rose there came, faintly, but distinct, the unmistakable screamof a frightened woman. From the direction of the farmhouse it came--fromthe farmhouse at which Billy had purchased their breakfast.
Without waiting for a repetition of the cry Billy wheeled and broke intoa rapid run in the direction of the little cluster of buildings. Bridgeleaped to his feet and followed him, dropping behind though, for hehad not had the road work that Billy recently had been through in histraining for the battle in which he had defeated the "white hope" thattime in New York when Professor Cassidy had wagered his entire pile uponhim, nor in vain.
Dink searched about the summer kitchen for an ax or hatchet; but failingto find either rummaged through a table drawer until he came upon alarge carving knife. This would do the job nicely. He thumbed the edgeas he carried it back into the parlor to Crumb.
The poor woman, lying upon the floor, was quite conscious. Her eyes werewide and rolling in horror. She struggled with her bonds, and tried toforce the gag from her mouth with her tongue; but her every effort wasuseless. She had heard every word that had passed between the two men.She knew that they would carry out the plan they had formulated and thatthere was no chance that they would be interrupted in their gruesomework, for her husband had driven over to a farm beyond Holliday, leavingbefore sunrise, and there was little prospect that he would returnbefore milking time in the evening. The detectives from Kansas Citycould not possibly reach the farm until far too late to save her.
She saw Dink return from the summer kitchen with the long knife. Sherecalled the day she had bought that knife in town, and the various usesto which she had put it. That very morning she had sliced some baconwith it. How distinctly such little things recurred to her at thisfrightful moment. And now the hideous creature standing beside her wasgoing to use it to cut her throat.
She saw Crumb take the knife and feel of the blade, running his thumbalong it. She saw him stoop, his eyes turned down upon hers. He graspedher chin and forced it upward and back, the better to expose her throat.
Oh, why could she not faint? Why must she suffer all these hideouspreliminaries? Why could she not even close her eyes?
Crumb raised the knife and held the blade close above her bared neck. Ashudder ran through her, and then the door crashed open and a man spranginto the room. It was Billy Byrne. Through the window he had seen whatwas passing in the interior.
His hand fell upon Crumb's collar and jerked him backward from his prey.Dink seized the shotgun and turned it upon the intruder; but he was tooclose. Billy grasped the barrel of the weapon and threw the muzzle uptoward the ceiling as the tramp pulled the trigger. Then he wrenched itfrom the man's hands, swung it once above his head and crashed the stockdown upon Dink's skull.
Dink went down and out for the count--for several counts, in fact. Crumbstumbled to his feet and made a break for the door. In the doorway heran full into Bridge, winded, but ready. The latter realizing that thematted one was attempting to escape, seized a handful of his tangledbeard, and, as he had done upon another occasion, held the tramp's headin rigid position while he planted a series of blows in the fellow'sface--blows that left Crumb as completely out of battle as was hismildewed comrade.
"Watch 'em," said Billy, handing Bridge the shotgun. Then he turned hisattention to the woman. With the carving knife that was to have endedher life he cut her bonds. Removing the gag from her mouth he liftedher in his strong arms and carried her to the little horsehair sofa thatstood in one corner of the parlor, laying her upon it very gently.
He was thinking of "Maw" Watson. This woman resembled her just alittle--particularly in her comfortable, motherly expansiveness, and shehad had a kind word and a cheery good-bye for him that morning as he haddeparted.
The woman lay upon the sofa, breathing hard, and moaning just a little.The shock had been almost too much even for her stolid nerves. Presentlyshe turned her eyes toward Billy.
"You are a good boy," she said, "and you come just in the nick o' time.They got all my money. It's in their clothes," and then a look of terroroverspread her face. For the moment she had forgotten what she had heardabout this man--that he was an escaped convict--a convicted murderer.Was she any better off now that she had let him know about the moneythan she was with the others after they discovered it?
At her words Bridge kneeled and searched the two tramps. He counted thebills as he removed them from their pockets.
"Eleven hundred?" he asked, and handed the money to Billy.
"Eleven hundred, yes," breathed the woman, faintly, her eyeshorror-filled and fearful as she gazed upon Billy's face. She didn'tcare for the money any more--they could have it all if they would onlylet her live.
Billy turned toward her and held the rumpled green mass out.
"Here," he said; "but that's an awful lot o' coin for a woman to haveabout de house--an' her all alone. You ought not to a-done it."
She took the money in trembling fingers. It seemed incredible that theman was returning it to her.
"But I knew it," she said finally.
"Knew what?" asked Billy.
"I knew you was a good boy. They said you was a murderer."
Billy's brows contracted, and an expression of pain crossed his face.
"How did they come to say that?" he asked.
"I heard them telephonin' to Kansas City to the police," she replied,and then she sat bolt upright. "The detectives are on their way herenow," she almost screamed, "and even if you ARE a murderer I don't care.I won't stand by and see 'em get you after what you have done for me. Idon't believe you're a murderer anyhow. You're a good boy. My boy wouldbe about as old and as big as you by now--if he lives. He ran away along time ago--maybe you've met him. His name's Eddie--Eddie Shorter. Iain't heard from him fer years.
"No," she went on, "I don't believe what they said--you got too gooda face; but if you are a murderer you get out now before they come an'I'll send 'em on a wild-goose chase in the wrong direction."
"But these," said Billy. "We can't leave these here."
"Tie 'em up and give me the shotgun," she said. "I'll bet they don'tcome any more funny business on me." She had regained both her composureand her nerve by this time.
Together Billy and Bridge trussed up the two tramps. An elephantcouldn't have forced the bonds they placed upon them. Then they carriedthem down cellar and when they had come up again Mrs. Shorter barred thecellar door.
"I reckon they won't get out of there very fast," she said. "And now youtwo boys run along. Got any money?" and without waiting for a reply shecounted twenty-five dollars from the roll she had tucked in the front ofher waist and handed them to Billy.
"Nothin' doin'," said he; "but t'anks just the same."
"You got to take it," she insisted. "Let me make believe I'm givin' itto my boy, Eddie--please," and the tears that came to her eyes provedfar more effective than her generous words.
"Aw, all right," said Billy. "I'll take it an' pass it along to Eddie ifI ever meet him, eh?"
"Now please hurry," she urged. "I don't want you to be caught--even ifyou are a murderer. I wish you weren't though."
"I'm not," said Billy; "but de law says I am an' what de law says,goes."
He turned toward the doorway with Bridge, calling a goodbye to thewoman, but as he stepped out upon the veranda the dust of a fast-movingautomobile appeared about a bend in the road a half-mile from the house.
"Too late," he said, turning to Bridge. "Here they come!"
The woman brushed by them and peered up the road.
"Yes," she said, "it must be them. Lordy! What'll we do?"
"I'll duck out the back way, that's what I'll do," said Billy.
"It wouldn't do a mite of good," said Mrs. Shorter, with a shake ofher head. "They'll telephone every farmer within twenty mile of here inevery direction, an' they'll get you sure. Wait! I got a scheme. Comewith me," and she turned and bustled through the little parlor, out of adoorway into something that was half hall and half sto
reroom. There wasa flight of stairs leading to the upper story, and she waddled up themas fast as her legs would carry her, motioning the two men to followher.
In a rear room was a trapdoor in the ceiling.
"Drag that commode under this," she told them. "Then climb into theattic, and close the trapdoor. They won't never find you there."
Billy pulled the ancient article of furniture beneath the opening,and in another moment the two men were in the stuffy atmosphere of theunventilated loft. Beneath them they heard Mrs. Shorter draggingthe commode back to its accustomed place, and then the sound of herfootsteps descending the stair.
Presently there came to them the rattling of a motor without, followedby the voices of men in the house. For an hour, half asphyxiated by thecloseness of the attic, they waited, and then again they heard the soundof the running engine, diminishing as the machine drew away.
Shortly after, Mrs. Shorter's voice rose to them from below:
"You ken come down now," she said, "they've gone."
When they had descended she led them to the kitchen.
"I got a bite to eat ready for you while they was here," she explained."When you've done you ken hide in the barn 'til dark, an' after thatI'll have my ol' man take you 'cross to Dodson, that's a junction, an'you'd aughter be able to git away easy enough from there. I told 'em youstarted for Olathe--there's where they've gone with the two tramps.
"My, but I did have a time of it! I ain't much good at story-tellin' butI reckon I told more stories this arternoon than I ever tole before inall my life. I told 'em that they was two of you, an' that the biggestone hed red hair, an' the little one was all pock-marked. Then they saidyou prob'ly wasn't the man at all, an' my! how they did swear at themtwo tramps fer gettin' 'em way out here on a wild-goose chase; butthey're goin' to look fer you jes' the same in Olathe, only they won'tfind you there," and she laughed, a bit nervously though.
It was dusk when Mr. Shorter returned from Holliday, but after he hadheard his wife's story he said that he'd drive "them two byes" all theway to Mexico, if there wasn't any better plan.
"Dodson's far enough," Bridge assured him, and late that night thegrateful farmer set them down at their destination.
An hour later they were speeding south on the Missouri Pacific.
Bridge lay back, luxuriously, on the red plush of the smoker seat.
"Some class to us, eh, bo?" asked Billy.
Bridge stretched.
The tide-hounds race far up the shore--the hunt is on! The breakers roar! Her spars are tipped with gold, and o'er her deck the spray is flung, The buoys that frolic in the bay, they nod the way, they nod the way! The hunt is up! I am the prey! The hunter's bow is strung!
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