DOWLEY EGGS ON A CATSPAW
Dowley, as he sprang forward, found the muzzle of Private Overton's
revolver uncomfortably close to him.
"No nonsense," warned Hal. "I don't want to hurt any one, but I'm here
on duty."
Dowley eyed the soldier boy viciously for an instant, then, with
another oath, leaped forward.
Bang!
Private Overton fired without a second's delay, though he did not shoot
to hit.
Into the wood at the end of the room crashed the bullet.
But Dowley, who had not believed that the "kid soldier" would dare
fire, dropped to the floor.
"Get up," commanded Hal, eyeing him closely.
"I'll suit myself," snarled the man on the floor.
The firing had been plainly heard in the outer room.
Two or three of the weaker-nerved patrons out there promptly made a
break for the street. None ventured into that inner room. Corporal
Minturn and his companions must now take care of themselves.
But this, in their present ugly mood, they seemed quite able to do.
"Don't act like a fool, Dowley," rasped Hal impatiently. "The
detachment is strong enough to take you back, man, and you'll have to
go back in irons if you attempt to stir up trouble. Get up!"
"Not to please you, though!" growled Dowley, as he leaped to his feet.
He still retained his grip on the bludgeon.
"Drop that club," ordered Hal sternly.
"You clear out!"
"Drop that club!"
"Make me."
"You're determined to act foolishly, aren't you?" demanded Hal with the
ring of contempt in his voice.
"I'm bound to do as I please," leered Dowley viciously.
"You can't when you're in arrest," replied Hal.
"But I'm not in arrest."
"I've already told you that you are," Hal insisted coolly.
"I don't take my facts from a kid like you," sneered Dowley, edging
closer.
"Get back!" warned Soldier Hal.
But Dowley, grasping the club tighter, made a sudden lunge.
Bang!
Hal fired his second shot. Not even now did he aim to hit. The bullet
whizzed past Dowley's left ear. But that fellow, who had seen the quick
pressure of Soldier Hal's finger on the trigger, threw himself flat to
the floor once more, and this time the club rolled from his hand.
"I mean business, and it will be better for all of you to understand
it," Private Overton announced. "Get up, Dowley, and you three men form
in single file. Corporal Minturn, you take the lead."
"I'll take it in another way," leered the corporal, bending and
snatching up the club. "Hooper, you pin the kid's arms!"
Hooper made a move on Hal's other side. The soldier boy had to dodge to
avoid being seized.
As he did so Dowley leaped up from the floor to join in the attack from
in front.
Again Hal Overton raised his service revolver, though with no more
intention than before of wounding any of the ugly trio.
But Corporal Minturn, as his muddled brain now figured it, had to
strike in self-defense.
Whack!
It was a lusty blow, backed by venom and muscle.
Private Hal Overton simply crumpled up and fell to the floor,
motionless.
"You sneaking dogs!" rang Private Hyman's scornful voice from the
doorway. "Get your hands up now, all of you, or there'll be some real
war!"
Backing Hyman, Noll Terry darted into the room.
Hal's first shot had not been heard, but Hyman's quick ear had heard
the second.
Scenting trouble, in an instant Hyman had summoned Private Terry, who
just then appeared on the street, and both had dashed into this place.
"Get your hands up, all of you, before I shoot fast and hard to square
matters for the kid!" Hyman now insisted savagely.
Noll got a glimpse of Hal lying on the floor, and added savagely:
"Oh, I'm just itching for an excuse to shoot!"
There could be no doubt of the temper of these newcomers. Danger
partially sobered these ugly ones. Up went their hands without further
delay.
"Put your hands down, just one at a time," continued Hyman. "Terry, you
take Corporal Minturn first and iron him."
Click! Snap! Minturn was in no position to do further harm.
It was Hooper's turn next. That big fellow was utterly cowed and began
to talk rather whiningly.
"Hold your tongue!" commanded Noll angrily.
Then he went over and ironed Dowley, who, still sullen, was capable,
while free, of becoming suddenly more dangerous than either of his
companions.
"I reckon Minturn fixed your bunkie for good, anyway. I hope he did,"
Dowley ground out between his closed teeth.
"I'm sorry I've got the handcuffs on you," flared Noll; "If your hands
were free I'd enjoy pounding you all over the floor!"
"Take off the links, then, and try it," sneered Dowley.
"Hold your tongue, you dog!" barked Private Hyman.
"Oh, you're a brave man, when you've got the other crowd in irons,"
spat out Dowley sneeringly.
"I'm brave enough for you at any time," taunted Hyman. "This was your
job"--pointing to prostrate, unconscious Hal--"but you egged another
man on to do it, you cowardly cur!"
"Is that so?" sneered Dowley.
"Well, you know best," retorted Hyman contemptuously.
"You can watch 'em now for a minute," broke in Noll. "I'm going to see
if I can find Sergeant Hupner. If I can't, I'm going to get the first
doctor I can."
"You can get doctors to burn," replied Hyman. "This is a sanitarium
town, and the pickings here are fat for the medicos."
Noll ran through the larger room. The men there turned to scowl at him,
but Noll gave no heed to any of them.
Out in the street, at a little distance, he saw Sergeant Hupner and
the two remaining men of the detachment coming along with two soldier
prisoners.
Noll set up a shout. Hupner, espying him, came on the run.
"Have you found any of the others?" demanded the sergeant.
"We have all the other delinquents. But," choked Noll, "I'm fearfully
afraid that Minturn has done for Hal Overton for good."
"Where is Overton?" demanded the sergeant swiftly.
"In a private room at the rear, Sergeant," Noll answered, pointing.
"You can find the way. I'm going to rustle for a doctor."
"Good boy," nodded Hupner, and darted into the evil place.
Within three minutes Private Noll Terry entered the place, followed by
a keen-eyed young physician.
Hal still lay unconscious on the floor, a bad gap showing across the
top of his head, and a red pool on the floor near him.
Private Hyman was now kneeling beside the young soldier, his eyes misty.
"I'm glad you're here, Doctor," nodded Hyman, speaking huskily as he
rose. "I was just going to try to do something myself, but was afraid I
might do the wrong thing."
"I didn't know what I was doing," muttered Corporal Minturn weakly. "I
wasn't responsible."
"Silence! Tell that to the court-martial," broke in Sergeant Hupner in
a tone of sheer disgust. "Be quick, Doctor, won't you? And if there is
anything that we can do to help you, speak."
The young physician was now feeling the cut on Hal's head, the skilled
fingers glided easily along the edges of the wound, pressing lightly
against the bones of the skull.
"This couldn't well be much worse," announced the physician, looking
up. "But before I do much, or make a thorough examination, I want this
soldier in bed. Have you a surgeon at camp?"
"No, sir," replied Sergeant Hupner.
"Then I'll get out my automobile and take the young man up in the car,
after washing the cut and putting on a first bandage."