THE FIGHT AT CUTER MALONE'S
The porter at Cuter Malone's Klondike Palace was lighting the huge oil
lamps as the girl called Kitty sauntered to the bar with her dancing
partner who loudly demanded wine. Cuter Malone himself, standing behind
the bar in earnest conversation with Johnnie Claw, set out the drinks
and as the girl raised her glass, a man brushed past her. She recognized
Zinn, one of Malone's despicable lieutenants, and was quick to note that
something unusual was in the air. A swift meaning glance passed between
Claw and Malone, and as Zinn stepped around the bar to deposit his
rifle, he whispered earnestly to the two who stepped close to listen.
Unperceived, Kitty managed to edge near, and the next instant she was
all attention. For from the detached words that came to her ears, she
made out, "Ace-In-The-Hole," and "the girl," and then Malone, whose
voice carried above the others issued an order, "The shack behind the
saw mill. Git him soused. Knock him out if you have to--but don't kill
him. Once we git the girl here me an' Claw--" the rest of the sentence
was lost as it blended with an added order of Claw's. "Ace-In-The-Hole!"
thought Kitty, "What did it mean? And who is 'The girl?' Ace-In-The-Hole
is dead. And, yet--" she glanced toward Claw whose beady eyes were
glittering with excitement. "He just came back from somewhere--maybe he
knows--something."
She saw Zinn cross the room and speak in a whisper to four men who were
playing solo at a table near the huge stove. She knew those men, Stumpy
Cooley, and his three companions. The men nodded, and went on with their
game, and Zinn returned and resumed his conversation with Malone and
Claw. But the girl could hear nothing more. The "professor" was loudly
banging out the notes of the next dance upon the piano, and her partner
was pulling at her arm.
For two hours Kitty danced, and between dances she drank wine at the
bar, and always her eyes were upon the four men at the solo table, and
upon Zinn, who loafed close by, and upon Malone and Claw, who she noted,
were drinking more than usual, as they hob-nobbed behind the bar.
The evening crowd foregathered. The music became faster, the talk
louder, the laughter wilder. At the conclusion of a dance, Kitty saw
Malone speak to Zinn, who immediately slipped out the door. The four men
at the table, threw down their cards, and sauntered casually from the
room and declining the next dance, the girl dashed up the stairway to
her room where she kicked off her high heeled slippers, pulled a pair of
heavy woolen stockings over her silk ones, and hurriedly laced her
moccasins. She jammed a cap over her ears and slipping into a heavy fur
coat, stepped out into the hall and came face to face with Johnnie Claw.
"Where do you think you're goin'?" asked the man with a sneer.
"It's none of your business!" snapped the girl, "I don't have to ask you
when I want to go anywhere--and I don't have to tell you where I'm
goin', either! You haven't got any strings on me!"
"Well--fergit it, 'cause you ain't goin' nowhere's--not right now."
"Get out of my way! Damn you!" cried the girl, "If I had a gun here, I'd
blow your rotten heart out!"
"But, you ain't got none--an' I have--so it's the other way around. Only
I ain't goin' to kill you, if you do like I say.
"Listen here, I seen you easin' over and tryin' to hear what me an'
Malone, an' Zinn was talkin' about. I don't know how much you heard, but
you heard enough, so you kep' pretty clost cases on all of us. G'wan
back in yer room, 'fore I put you there! What the hell do you care
anyhow? All we want is the girl. Onct we git her up in the strong room,
you kin have Ace-In-The-Hole. An' as long as she's around you ain't
nowhere with him. Why don't you use yer head?"
"You fool!" screamed the girl, in a sudden fury, and as she tried to
spring past him, Claw's fist caught her squarely in the chin and without
a sound she crashed backward across the door sill. Swiftly the man
reached down and dragged her into the room, removed the key from the
lock on the inside, closed and locked the door, and thrusting the key
into his pocket, turned and walked down stairs.
How long she lay there, Kitty did not know. Consciousness returned
slowly. She was aware of a dull ache in her head, and after what seemed
like a long time she struggled to her knees and drew herself onto the
bed where she lay trying to think what had happened. Faintly, from below
drifted the sound of the piano. So, they were still dancing, down there?
Then, suddenly the whole train of events flashed through her brain. She
leaped to her feet and staggered groggily to the door. It was locked. In
vain she screamed and beat upon the panels. She rushed to the window but
its double sash of heavily frosted panes nailed tight for the winter was
immovable. In a sudden frenzy of rage she seized a chair and smashed the
glass. The inrush of cold air felt good to her throbbing temples, and
wrenching a leg from the chair she beat away the jagged fragments until
only the frame remained. Leaning far out, she looked down. Her room was
at the side of the building, near the rear, and she saw that a huge
snowdrift had formed where the wind eddied around the corner. Only a
moment she hesitated, then standing upright on the sill, she leaped far
out and landed squarely in the centre of the huge drift. Struggling to
her feet she wallowed to the street, and ran swiftly through the
darkness in the direction of the sawmill. And, at that very moment, Zinn
was knocking upon the door of the Reeves home.
When the door had closed behind Brent, Mrs. Reeves had insisted upon
Snowdrift's taking a much needed rest upon the lounge in the living
room, and despatching Reeves upon an errand to a neighbor's, busied
herself in the kitchen. The girl lay back among the pillows wondering
when her lover would return when the sound of the knock sent her flying
to the door. She drew back startled when, instead of Brent she was
confronted by the man they had passed on the river.
"Is they a lady here name of Snowdrift?" asked the man.
A sudden premonition of evil shot through the girl's heart. She paled to
the lips. Where was Brent? Had something happened? "Yes, yes!" she
answered quickly, "I am Snowdrift. What has happened? Why do you want
me?"
"It's him--yer man--Ace-In-The-Hole," he answered.
"Oh, what is it?" cried the girl, in a frenzy of impatience, "has he
been hurt?"
"Well--not jest hurt, you might say. He's loadin' up on hooch. Some of
us friends of hisn tried to make him go easy--but it ain't no use. I
seen you an' him comin' in on the river, an' I figgered mebbe you could
handle him. We're afraid someone'll rob him when he gits good an'
drunk."
And not more than an hour ago he had given his promise--on the word of a
Brent--a promise that Mrs. Reeves had just finished telling her would
never be broken. A low sob that ended in a moan trembled upon the girl's
lips: "Wait!" she commanded, and slipping into the room, caught up her
cap and parka, and stepping out into the darkness, closed the door
noiselessly behind her.
"Take me to him--quickly!" she said, "Surely he will listen to me."
"That's what I figgered," answered the man, and turning led the way down
the dark street.
Presently the subdued light that filtered through the frosted windows of
the Klondike Palace came into view, and as they reached the place Zinn
led the way to the rear, and pushed open a door. Snowdrift found herself
in a dimly lighted hallway. Cuter Malone stepped forward with a smile:
"Jest a minute, lady. Better put this here veil over yer face. He's up
stairs, an' we got to go in through the bar. They's a lot of folks in
there, an' they ain't no use of you bein' gopped at. With this on, they
won't notice but what it's one of the women that lives here."
Snowdrift fastened the heavy veil over her face, and taking her arm,
Malone piloted her through the bar-room and up the stairs. Through the
mesh of the veil, Snowdrift caught a confused vision of many men
standing before a long bar, of other men, and women in gay colors
dancing upon a smooth stretch of floor, and her ears rang with the loud
crashing of the piano. Bewildered, confused, she tightened her grasp
upon Malone's arm. At the head of the stairs, the man paused and opened
a door. "You kin take off the veil, now," he said, as he locked the door
behind them, "They ain't no one up here."
A sudden terror possessed the girl, and she glanced swiftly into the
man's face. "But--where is he?"
"Oh, he's on up," he assured her, "This way." He led the way across the
room known as the small dance hall, and through a passage from which
doors opened on either side, to a flight of stairs in the rear. At the
head of the stairs the girl could see a light burning. He motioned her
to proceed, and as she gained the top, a man stepped out from the shadow
and seized her arms.
One look into his face and the girl gave a wild shriek of terror.
The man was Johnnie Claw.
The next moment she found herself thrust into a room lighted only by a
single candle. It was a bare, forbidding looking room, windowless and
with a door of thick planking, secured by a hasp and padlock upon the
outside. Its single article of furniture was a bed.
"So," leered Claw, "You thought you could git away from me did you?
Thought you was playin' hell when you an' Ace-In-The-Hole hit fer
Dawson, did you? Well, you played hell, all right--but not like you
figgered. Yer mine, now." Trembling so that her limbs refused to support
her, Snowdrift sank down upon the bed.
"Oh where is he?" she moaned.
Claw laughed: "Oh, he's all right," he mocked, "He's soused to the
guards by this time, an' after I an' some friends of mine git him to
sign a deed to a couple of claims he owns, we'll feed him to the fish."
The girl tried to rise, but her muscles refused to obey the dictates of
her brain, and she sank back upon the bed.
"You'll be all right here when you git used to it. The girls all have a
lot of fun. I'm goin' below now. You stay here an' think it over. Tain't
no use to holler--this room's built a purpose to tame the likes of you
in. Some of 'em that's be'n in here has walked out, an' some of 'em has
be'n carried out--but none of 'em has ever _got_ out. An' jest so you
don't take no fool notion to burn the house down, I'll take this candle
along. I got a horror of burnin'." Again he laughed harshly, and the
next moment Snowdrift found herself in darkness, and heard the padlock
rattle in the hasp.
Kitty drew swiftly into the intense blackness between two lumber piles.
She heard the sound of voices coming toward her, and a moment later she
could distinguish the words. "Damn him! He like to busted my jaw! Gawd,
what a wallop he's got! But I fixed him, when I smashed that quart over
his head!"
"Maybe he'll bleed to death," ventured another.
"Naw, he ain't cut bad. I seen the gash over his eye. He's bloody as
hell, but he looks worse'n he is. Say, you sure you tied him tight? He's
been out damn near an hour an' he'll be comin' to, 'fore long--an'
believe me----"
The men passed out of hearing and Kitty slipped from cover and sped
toward the shack the outline of which she could see beyond the corner of
the sawmill.
She made sure that all four of the men were together, so she pushed in
without hesitation. "Hello!" she called, softly. "Ace-In-The-Hole! You
here?" No answer, and she moved further into the room and stumbled over
the prostrate form of a man. Swiftly she dropped to her knees and
assured herself that his hands and feet were tied. Deftly her fingers
explored his pockets until they found his knife, and a moment later the
thongs that bound him were severed. Her hand rested for a second upon
his forehead, and with a low cry she withdrew it, wet and sticky with
blood. Leaping to her feet, she procured a handful of snow which she
dashed into his face. Again and again she repeated the performance, and
then he moved. He muttered, feebly, and received more snow. Then she
bent close to his ear:
"Listen, Ace-In-The-Hole--it's me--Kitty!"
"Kitty," murmured the man, uncertainly. "Snowdrift!"
"Yes I lit in a snowdrift all right when I jumped out the window--but
how did you know? Come--wake up! Is there a light here?"
"Where am I?"
"In the shack back of the sawmill."
"Where's Camillo Bill?"
"Camillo Bill--he's up to Stoell's, I guess. But listen, give me a
match."
Clumsily Brent fumbled in his pocket and produced a match. Kitty seized
it, and in the flare of its flame saw a candle upon the table. She held
the flame to the wick, and in the flickering light Brent sat up, and
glanced about him. The air was heavy with the reek of the whiskey from
the broken bottle. His head hurt, and he raised his hand and withdrew it
red with blood. Then, he leaped unsteadily to his feet: "Damn 'em!" he
roared, "It was a plant! What's their game?"
"I know what it is!" cried Kitty, "Quick--tell me--have you got a
girl--here in Dawson?"
"Yes, yes--at Reeves--her name is Snowdrift, and she----"
"Come then--we ain't got any time to lose! It's Cuter Malone and that
damned Johnnie Claw----"
"Johnnie Claw!" cried Brent. "Claw is a thousand miles from here--on the
Coppermine!"
"He's right this minute in the Klondike Palace--and your girl will be
there too, if you don't shake your legs! They framed this play to get
her--and I heard 'em--partly. If I'd known where she was, I'd have gone
there first--but I didn't know."
Already Brent was staggering from the room, and Kitty ran close beside
him. The cold air revived the man and he ran steadily when he reached
the street. "Tell me--" panted Kitty, at his side. "This girl--is--she
straight?"
"I'm going to marry her tonight!" cried the man.
"Then hurry--for Christ's sake!" sobbed Kitty, "Oh, hurry! Hurry!"
At a certain street corner Kitty halted suddenly, and Brent ran on. He
rushed into Reeves' house like a whirlwind. "Where's Snowdrift?" he
cried, as the Reeves' stared wide-eyed at the blood-soaked apparition.
"What has happened----?"
"Where is she?" yelled Brent, his eyes glaring like a mad man's.
"I--we don't know. I was in the kitchen, and--" but Brent had dashed
from the room, and when Reeves found his hat, the madman had disappeared
in the darkness.
Quite a group of old timers had foregathered at Stoell's, Moosehide
Charlie drifted in, and seeing Camillo Bill, Swiftwater Bill, and Old
Bettles standing at the bar, he joined them.
"What do you say we start a regular old he-man's game of stud?" he
asked. "We ain't had no real game fer quite a while."
Camillo Bill shook his head slowly: "No--not fer me. I'll play a
reasonable game--but do you know since Ace-In-The-Hole went plumb to
hell the way he done over the game--I kind of took a dislikin' to it."
"It was the hooch, more'n the stud," argued Bettles.
"Mebbe it was--but, damn it! It was 'em both. There was one hombre I
liked."
"Wonder if he'll come back?" mused Swiftwater Bill.
"Sure as hell!" affirmed Camillo.
"Will he have sense enough to lay off the hooch?"
"I don't know, but I got twenty thousan' dollars says he will."
Camillo Bill looked defiantly around.
"Take it!" cried Swiftwater Bill, "An' I hope to hell I lose!"
The door burst open and Kitty, gasping for breath hurtled into the room:
"Camillo Bill!" she screamed. "Quick! All of you! Hey you sourdoughs!"
her voice rose to a shriek, and men crowded from the tables in the rear,
"Come on! Ace-In-The-Hole needs us! He's back! An' he's brought a girl!
They're goin' to be married. But--Claw and Cuter Malone, framed it to
steal her! He's gone down there now!" she panted. "Come on! They hired a
gang to get Ace-In-The-Hole, and they damn near did!"
With a yell Camillo Bill reached clear over the bar and grabbed one of
Stoell's guns, and an instant later followed by a crowd of lesser lights
the big men of the Yukon rushed down the street, led by Kitty, and
Camillo Bill, and Stoell, himself, who another gun in hand, had vaulted
the bar without waiting to put on his coat or his cap.
"They'll take her up stairs--way up--" gasped Kitty as she ran,
"And--for God's sake--hurry!"
Bareheaded, his face covered with blood, a human cyclone burst through
the door of the Klondike Palace. Straight for the bar he rushed, bowling
men over like ten pins. Cuter Malone flashed one startled glance and
reached for his gun, but before he could grasp it the shape hurdled the
bar and the two went to the floor in a crash of glass. Brent's hand
first found the gun, and gripping it by the barrel he brought it
crashing down on Cuter's head. Leaping to his feet he fired, and the
bartender, bung-starter in hand, sprawled on top of his employer.
Across the room came a rush of men--Stumpy Cooley, Zinn, and others.
Again Brent fired, and Zinn crumpled slowly to the floor. Stumpy whirled
a chair above his head and Brent dodged as the missile crashed into the
mirror above the back bar. The bar-room was a pandemonium of noise. Men
crowded in from the dance hall bent upon overpowering the madman who had
interrupted their frolic. Screaming women rushed for the stairs.
Brent was lifted from his feet and rushed bodily half way across the
room, the very numbers of his assailants protecting him from a hundred
blows. Weaving--milling, the crowd surged this way and that, striking at
Brent, and hitting each other. They surged against the stove, and it
crashed upon its side, filling the room with smoke from the toppling
pipe, and covering the floor with blazing chunks of wood and live coals.
Suddenly through the doors swept a whirlwind of human shapes! The
surging crowd went down before the onrush, and Brent struggled madly to
free himself from the thrashing arms and legs. Revolvers barked, chairs
crashed against heads and against other chairs. Roulette and faro
layouts were splintered, and poker tables were smashed like kindling
wood, men seizing upon the legs for weapons. And above all rose the
sound of crashing glass and the shrill shrieks of women. The room filled
with choking smoke. Flames ate into the floor and shot up the wooden
walls.
The door at the head of the stairs opened suddenly and Brent caught
sight of the white face of Claw. He was afraid to shoot, for the
frenzied girls, instead of seeking safety in the street, had crowded
upon the stairs and were pouring through the door which Claw was vainly
trying to close. The smoke sucked upward, and the flames crackled more
loudly, fanned by the new formed draught. Struggling through the
fighting, surging men, Brent gained the foot of the stairs. He saw Claw
raise his gun, and the next instant a figure flashed between. The gun
roared, and the figure crumpled to the floor. It was Kitty. With an
oath, Brent sprang up the stairway, as the flames roared behind him.
He turned for an instant and as his eyes swept the room he saw Camillo
Bill stoop and gather Kitty into his arms, and stagger toward the front
door. Other men were helping the wounded from the room. Someone yelled
at Brent to come down and save himself. He glanced toward the speaker.
It was Bettles, and even as he looked the man was forced to retreat
before the flames and was lost to view. At the head of the stairs Brent
slammed the door shut. The little dance hall was full of girls huddled
together shrieking. Other girls were stumbling from their rooms, with
their belongings in their arms. From the narrow hallway that led to the
rear rushed Claw. The man seemed beside himself with terror. His eyes
were wide and staring and he made for a window, cursing shrilly as he
forced his way through the close-packed crowd of girls, striking them,
knocking them down and trampling on them. He did not see Brent and
seizing a chair drove it through the window. The floor was hot, and the
air thick with smoke. Claw was about to leap to safety when like a
panther Brent sprang upon him, and bore him to the floor. He reached out
swiftly and his fingers buried themselves in the man's throat as they
had buried themselves in the Captain's. He glared into the terror-wide
eyes of the worst man in the North, and laughed aloud. An unnatural,
maniacal laugh, it was, that chilled the hearts of the cowering girls.
"Kill him!" shrilled one hysterically. "Kill him!" "Kill him!" Others
took up the cry, Brent threw Claw onto his belly, placed his knees upon
the small of his back, locked the fingers of both hands beneath the
man's chin and pulled slowly and steadily upward. Backward came Claw's
head as he tore frantically at Brent's arms with his two hands.
Upward--and backward came the man's head and shoulders, and Brent
shortened his leverage by suddenly slipping his forearms instead of his
fingers beneath Claw's chin. Strangling sounds came gurgling from his
throat. Brent leaned backward, adding the weight of his body to the pull
of his arms. Claw's back was bent sharply upward just in front of the
knees that held him to the floor, and summoning all his strength Brent
surged backward, straining every muscle of his body until it seemed he
could not pull another pound.
Suddenly there was a dull audible snap--and Claw folded backward.
Brent released his grip and leaping to his feet rushed back through the
hallway, and up the stairs. A door of thick planking stopped him and
upon a hasp he saw a heavy padlock. Jerking the gun from his belt, he
placed the muzzle against the lock and pulled the trigger. There was a
deafening explosion and the padlock flew open and swung upon its staple.
Dashing into the room, Brent snatched Snowdrift into his arms, and
rushed down the stairs. Pausing at the window Claw had smashed, he stood
the girl upon her feet, and knocking the remaining glass from the sash
with the butt of the gun, he grabbed one of the screaming girls and
pitched her into the big snowdrift that ranged along the whole length of
the burning building.
* * * * *
It was light as day, now, the flames were leaping high above the roof at
the front, and already tongues of red were showing around the doorway at
the head of the stairs. A great crowd had collected, and at the sight of
the girl's form hurtling through the air, they surged to the spot.
Spurts of smoke and tiny jet-like flames were finding their way through
the cracks of the floor. Brent realized there was no time to lose, and
seizing another girl, he pitched her out. Then he took them as they
came--big ones and little ones, fully dressed and half dressed,
screaming, fighting, struggling to get away--or to be taken next, he
pitched them out until only Snowdrift remained.
Lifting her to the window, he told her to jump, and watched to see her
light safely in the snow.
Smoke was pouring through the fast widening cracks in the floor. Brent
leaped to the window sill. As he stood poised, a section of the floor
between himself and Claw dropped through, and a rush of flames shot
upward. Suddenly he saw Claw's arms thrash wildly: "My Gawd!" the man
shrieked, "My back's broke! I'm burnin' up!" The whole floor let go and
a furnace of overpowering flame rushed upward as he jumped--almost into
the waiting arms of Camillo Bill.
"It's Ace-In-The-Hole, all right!" yelled the big man, as he grasped
Brent's shoulders, and rocked him back and forth, "An' by God! _He's as
good a man as he ever was!_"
"Where's Kitty?" asked Brent, when he could get his breath. "I saw her
go down. She stopped Claw's bullet that was meant for me! And I saw you
carry her out!"
"Kitty's all right," whispered Camillo Bill in his ear, and Brent
glanced quickly into the man's shining eyes. "Jest nicked in the
shoulder--an' say--I've always wanted her--but she wouldn't have
me--but--now you're out of the way--I told her all over again how I
stood--an' _damned if she didn't take me_!"
THE END
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Normalized punctuation,
Maintained dialect in it's original spelling and format.
Silently corrected a few obvious typesetting errors.