A HARD FIGHT.
In a short time Kelly had produced from his trunk some clothing which
he put on, and when he announced that he was all ready Claude turned
and looked at him. He would not have known that it was the same person
who had conducted him to his room. Aside from the marks of dissipation
which were plainly visible on his face, he looked to be just what he
represented—a traveller out on business.
“Now all I want is to get shaved, and you can stay outside the shop and
stop Hayward when he comes along,” said Kelly.
“If his clothing has changed him as much as it has you I don’t believe
I will know him,” said Claude.
“He will know you, and that’s all you want. How will this valise do?
There is nothing in it, but nobody is going to see the inside of it.”
The valise being pronounced satisfactory, the two went outside into the
hall, and Kelly locked the door and gave the key to Claude.
“You may have to stay here for a week; for, as Hayward said, we may
have to go up to Fort Scully before we can get a chance to try him on
for his money,” said he. “We are going to get it before we come back.”
“Remember, a third of it is mine,” said Claude.
“Of course. We would not have known anything about it if it had not
been for you.”
It was but a few steps to the barber shop, and Kelly went into it,
while Claude stayed outside, walking up and down in front of it for
fear the police might come along and order him to “move on.” Before he
had taken many turns he saw somebody coming up the street with a valise
in his hand, who smiled at Claude the moment he caught sight of him. It
was Hayward, sure enough, but he never would have recognized him.
“It is a wonder to me how clothes will change a man,” said Claude.
“Kelly’s getting shaved; he will be out directly.”
Hayward and Claude had enough to talk over during the time that Kelly
was in the barber shop, and when he came out they turned toward the
levee, where the Talisman was lying. They accidentally caught sight of
Carl and his companion before they got to it, and Claude lost no time
in dodging behind the wharf-boat out of their view.
“Did you see those two fellows sitting in chairs on the boiler deck?”
said he. “Well, those are the fellows that have the money. Take a look
at that man with whiskers, and you will see that his shirt sticks way
out here,” he continued, holding his hand as much as a foot or more
away from his breast. “I have done all I can for you. It now rests with
you.”
The two men started across the wharf-boat, ascended the gang-plank, and
disappeared behind the freight in the direction of the stairs. Looking
carefully out from his place of concealment, Claude saw them go up
to the boiler deck, and, somewhat to his disgust, saw Kelly stop and
address some words to Carl.
“If that is the way they are going to work it I may as well give up,”
said Claude, as he turned and walked away. “He is not going to make
friends with those boys, and he might as well give it up. But, after
all, they are pretty sharp.”
It was Kelly who spoke to Carl, and when he was waiting for him to
answer the question he cast a hurried glance at his companion, and
saw that he had the money. If he had had a coat on, he could not have
buttoned the garment over it. He gave him a look as he passed, and saw
the butts of two ugly revolvers protruding from Thompson’s hip pockets.
“Well, we have placed the money,” said he in a low tone to his
companion, who walked by his side. “The question now is, How are we
going to get rid of Carl and double-team on Thompson to keep him
from shooting? What’s the fare to Fort Scully, please? You have two
passengers with whom I am acquainted, and we’ll take a room right next
to theirs. Room No. 11, have they? Well, then, I will take No. 12.”
Their fare was soon paid, their names registered in the books, and
Hayward, at his companion’s suggestion, took their valises into their
own room, to which the clerk showed him. On the way he noticed that
Carl, or whoever had been in that room before him, had come out and
left the key in the lock instead of handing it over to the clerk. That
much was in his favor. Hayward made a great show of putting his valises
away, and then came out into the cabin again and saw that it was empty,
the clerk having gone into his office and closed the door. With a quick
step Hayward moved to the door of No. 11, noiselessly opened the door,
and went in. The valises were just where Carl had left them, stowed
away under the bunks. He pulled them out and saw that they were not
locked, the springs at the side serving to keep them closed. It was the
work of but a very few minutes to “sound” them, but he saw that the
money was not there. He tumbled some of the contents of the valises
out on the floor in order to make a thorough examination, and before
he had time to put them back he heard the cabin door open and Carl and
Thompson come in. He was just in time, for with one bound he reached
the outside door of the state-room which opened onto the guards, and
ran along until he came to the passage that ran through the cabin. A
moment afterward the door he had just left was thrown open and Carl’s
face was stuck out.
“It is not there,” said he to Kelly, whom he found sitting on the
boiler deck a short time after these incidents happened.
“Of course you didn’t find it,” said Kelly. “I told you where the money
was when I went in. Thompson has it, as sure as the world.”
It seemed a long time before Carl and the cowboy came out again, and
when they did, Kelly gave his companion a sly punch in the ribs with
his elbow. Carl had taken warning by his experience, or else Thompson
had become nervous and refused longer to act as custodian of the money,
for it had changed places; in other words, Carl had it. Thompson’s
revolvers had disappeared and his shirt set naturally, but Carl was the
one who was amply developed this time. They stayed there until Kelly
began to try to talk with them, and then they picked up their chairs
and took a place on the rail.
“Did you ever see anything work better than this?” said Kelly, when the
cowboys had taken up a position some little distance away. “Carl has
got the money, and it will be easy enough to get away with him.”
“If they will only take to sitting on the rail after dark, we’re all
right,” said Hayward. “That must be our only hope now.”
It seemed a long time before the supper-bell rang, and longer still
after that until dark came; but finally the dusk of evening began
to settle around them, and to their surprise no one came aboard the
vessel. The four were there alone. The deck hands were all below, the
captain and the clerk were nowhere to be seen, and the cabin boys had
gone ashore.
“I guess now is our time,” said Kelly.
“Go ahead,” said Hayward.
The men arose to their feet and walked toward the cabin to make sure
it was deserted, and then stole cautiously around it until they came to
the place where the cowboys were sitting. Thompson was sitting a little
nearer the bow than Carl, and him Hayward picked up as if he had been a
bag of corn and threw him over the rail toward the water, while Kelly
at the same time closed with Carl and bore him to the deck before he
could arise from his chair.
We say that Thompson fell toward the water, but he did not go into it.
He comprehended the nature of the assault in a moment, and the first
thing he did was to clutch at the railing with all his force. One hand
caught it, while the other was slipped inside his coat.
“You villain!” said he.
Hayward knew that in a second more Thompson would begin to shoot,
and he was equally determined to prevent it, if he could. He struck
the cowboy a blow full in the face, and then turned his attention to
unclasping his fingers. Thompson could not stand all that, and he
released his hold and went down. Hayward had got rid of his share,
and when he turned to see how Kelly was getting along, he saw Carl
motionless on his back, and his shirt torn completely off him. A
sand-bag attached to Kelly’s right wrist explained it all.
“I’ve got one,” said he in a hoarse whisper, passing a bundle wrapped
in a newspaper up to Hayward, “and here’s the other. Now skip!”
But there was something that both of the men wanted to do before they
went away, and that was to get rid of Carl. He knew too much, and might
make them some trouble with the police. Without saying a word they
picked him up, one at the head and the other at his heels, and tossed
him into the river. They waited a moment to listen to the splash, and
then walked swiftly away. Without appearing to be in any haste they
moved over the wharf-boat and up the levee, but the farther they went
the more they increased their pace. They kept a constant watch behind
them, but they saw nothing to indicate that they were pursued.
“That’s a little the easiest job I ever had,” said Hayward, feeling
the bundle on the inside of his coat. “That fellow was such an awful
man to shoot! If all the cowboys are like him the Indians will eat them
up, sure.”
“Where do you suppose they are now,” said Kelly, who could not resist a
thrill of horror at the thought of throwing the men into the river.
“They have gone to Davy Jones’s locker, where they ought to be,” said
Hayward. “We shall never see them again. Now where shall we go first?”
“Up to my room,” said Kelly. “There’s where we shall find Claude.”
“I say let us go to my room,” said Hayward. “We can count the money
there, and he need not know any thing about it.”
“Do you intend to cheat Claude?” asked Kelly in surprise.
“I don’t know that there will be any cheating about it. He knew where
the money was, and we got it. He thought we were going to fail; that
was what was the matter with him.”
“We didn’t fail, and through him we got money that we wouldn’t have
been able to earn in a lifetime,” said Kelly earnestly. “I won’t cheat
Claude. You can go to your room if you want to, and I will divide my
profits with him.”
Hayward did not say anything after this, but Kelly noticed that when he
turned toward his room his companion went also. When they got to the
door they tried to open it, but the apartment was fastened.
“Who is that?” asked a voice from the inside.
It was Claude who gave the challenge. He was sitting, with his feet on
the window-sill, watching the lamp, which gave out a dim light through
its smoky chimney, threatening every moment to go out and leave him in
darkness. But his thoughts were far away from there. He was dreaming
about Carl and his money, and wondering what was going to become of
him if Kelly and his friend were baffled in their attempts to win it.
He had mistrusted Kelly ever since he saw him speak to Carl, and had
pretty nearly given up all hope; but the sound of the latch when the
door was tried made his heart bound with exultation.
“It is me,” said Kelly. “Open up.”
It was all Claude could do to find the key, but he finally opened
the door. A glance at their faces was sufficient for him.
[Illustration: ALL THEIR LABOR FOR NOTHING.]
“You’ve got it!” he almost gasped.
“You are right, I have,” replied Kelly. “There’s my pile, and Hayward
has the rest.”
“It was not done up this way when it left the bank,” said Claude, a
suspicion creeping over him. “It has been done up since we left there.”
He believed then, as he believed afterward, that Kelly had been duped.
With hands that trembled in spite of himself he tore off the outside
covering, and nothing but a bundle of paper revealed itself. With a
yell that could have been heard over the house he scattered the paper
all over the floor, but no money appeared. Kelly and Hayward looked on
with astonishment, and then the latter tore his own bundle to pieces;
but it, too, was filled with paper. Claude backed toward the chair and
sank into it. He seemed to have lost all power over himself, for his
hands hung by his side as limp as a piece of wet rope.