"Well, did you land them hicks?" It was Gray's driver speaking. Through
the gloom of early evening he was guiding his car back toward Ranger.
The road was the same they had come, but darkness had invested it with
unfamiliar perils, or so it seemed, for the headlights threw every rock
and ridge into bold relief and left the holes filled with mysterious
shadows; the vehicle strained, its motor raced, its gears clashed
noisily as it rocked along like a dory in a boisterous tide rip. Only
now and then did a few rods of smooth going permit the chauffeur to
take his attention from the streak of illumination ahead long enough to
light another cigarette, a swift maneuver, the dexterity of which
bespoke long practice.
"Yes. And I made a good sale," the passenger declared. With pride he
announced the size of the Briskow check.
"J'ever see a dame the size of that gal?" A short laugh issued from the
driver. "She'd clean up in vaudeville, wouldn't she? Why, she could
lift a ton, in harness. And hoein' the garden, with their coin! It's
like a woman I heard of: they got a big well on their farm and she came
to town to do some shoppin'; somebody told her she'd ought to buy a
present for her old man, so she got him a new handle for the ax.
_Gawd!_"
A few miles farther on the fellow confessed: "I wasn't crazy about
comin' for you to-night. Not after I got a flash at what's in that
valise."
"No?"
"You're takin' a chance, stranger."
"Nothing new about that." Gray remained unperturbed. His left arm was
behind the driver; with it he clung rigidly to the back of the seat as
the car plunged and rolled. "Frequently we are in danger when we least
suspect it. Now you, for instance."
"Me?" The man at the wheel shot a quick glance at his fare.
"You probably take more chances than you dream of."
"How so?"
"Um-m! These roads are a menace to life and limb; the country is
infested with robbers--"
"Oh, sure! That's what I had in mind. Joy-ridin' at night with a hatful
of diamonds is my idea of a sucker's amusement. Of course, we won't
'get it'--"
"Of course! One never does."
"Sure! But if we should, there's just one thing to do."
"Indeed?" Gray was pleasantly inquisitive, but it was plain that he
suffered no apprehensions. "And that is--?"
"Sit tight and take your medicine."
"I never take medicine."
The chauffeur shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I do, when it's put down
my throat. I _been_ stuck up."
"Really!"
"Twice. Tame as a house cat, me--both times. I s'pose I'll get nicked
again sometime."
"And you won't offer any resistance?"
"Not a one, cull."
"I'm relieved to be assured of that."
For a second time the driver flashed a glance at his companion. It was
a peculiar remark and voiced in a queer tone. "Yes? Why?"
"Because--" Gray slightly shifted his position, there was a movement of
his right hand--the one farthest away from the man at the wheel--and
simultaneously his left arm slipped from the back of the seat and
tightly encircled the latter's waist. He finished in a wholly
unfamiliar voice, "Because, my good man, you are now held up for the
third time, and it would distress me to have to kill you."
The driver uttered a loud grunt, for something sharp and hard had been
thrust deeply into that soft, sensitive region overlying his liver, and
now it was held there. It was unnecessary for Gray to order the car
stopped; its brakes squealed, it ceased its progress as abruptly as if
its front wheels had fetched up against a stone wall.
"Hey! What the--?"
"Don't try to 'heel' me with your elbow," Gray warned, sharply. "Now,
up with 'em--you know. That's nice."
The faces of the men were close together. Gray's was blazing, the
driver's was stiff with amazement and stamped with an incredulous
grimace. Paralyzed for the moment with astonishment, he made no
resistance, not even when he felt that long muscular left arm relax and
the hand at the end of it go searching over his pockets.
Gray was grim, mocking; some vibrant, evil quality to his voice
suggested extreme malignity at full cock, like that unseen weapon the
muzzle of which was buried beneath the driver's short ribs. "Ah! You go
armed, I see. A shoulder holster, as I suspected. I knew you had
nothing on this side." Seizing his victim's upstretched right hand with
his own left, he gave it a sudden fierce wrench that all but snapped
the wrist, and at the same instant he reached across and snatched the
concealed weapon from its resting place. He flung the chauffeur's body
away from him; there was a sharp click as he swiftly jammed the barrel
of the automatic back and let it fly into place.
The entire maneuver had been deftly executed, even yet the object of
the assault was speechless.
"Now then"--the passenger faced about in his seat and showed his teeth
in a smile--"it is customary to permit the condemned to enjoy the last
word. What have you to say for yourself?"
"I--got this to say. It's a hell of a joke--" the man exploded.
"Do I act as if I were joking?"
"If you think it's funny to jab a gun in a man's belly when he ain't
lookin'--"
"A gun? My simple friend, you have--or had--the only gun in this party,
and you may thank whatever gods you worship that you didn't try to use
it, for--I would have been rough with you. Oh, very rough! I might even
have made you eat it. Now, inasmuch as you may be tempted to embellish
this story with some highly imaginary details, I prefer that you know
the truth. This is the 'gun' I used to stick you up." With a rigidly
outthrust thumb Gray prodded the driver in the side. "Simple, isn't it?
And no chance for accidents." The speaker's shoulders were shaking.
"Well, I'll be damned!"
"Not a doubt of it!" chuckled the other. "Especially if you follow in
the course you have chosen. And a similar fate will overtake your pal,
Mallow. By the way, is that his right name?... Never mind, I know him
as Mallow. A shallow, trusting man, and, I hope, a better judge of
diamonds than of character. As for me, I look deeper than the surface
and am seldom deceived in people--witness your case, for example. I
knew you at once for a crook. It might save you several miles of bad
walking to tell me where Mallow is waiting to high-jack me.... No?"
"I dunno what you're ravin' about," growled the unhappy owner of the
automobile. "But, believe me, I'll have you pinched for this."
"How sharper than a serpent's tooth is ingratitude! And what bad taste
to prattle of prosecution. I sha'n't steal your car, it needs too much
overhauling. And I abominate cheap machines. It is true that I'm one
pistol to the good, but in view of the law against carrying lethal
weapons, surely you won't prefer charges against me for removing it
from your person. Oh, not that! It seems to me that I'm treating you
handsomely, for I shall even pay you the agreed price for this trip,
provided only you tell me where you expect to meet Mr. Mallow."
"Go to hell!"
"Very well. Oblige me now by getting out.... And make it snappy!"
The driver did as directed. Gray pocketed the automatic, slipped in
behind the steering wheel, and drove away into the night, followed by
loud and earnest objurgations.
He was still smiling cheerfully when, a mile farther on, he brought the
car to a stop and clambered out. Passing forward into the illumination
of the headlights, he busied himself there for several moments before
resuming his journey.
For the first time in a long while Calvin Gray was thoroughly enjoying
himself. Here was an enterprise with all the possibilities of a
first-class adventure, and of the sort, moreover, that he was
peculiarly qualified to cope with. It possessed enough hazard to lend
it the requisite zest, it was sufficiently unusual to awaken his
keenest interest; he experienced an agreeable exaltation of spirit, but
no misgivings whatever as to the outcome, for he held the commanding
cards. Little remained, it seemed to him, except to play them
carefully and to take the tricks as they fell. He had not the slightest
notion of permitting Mallow to lay hands upon that case of jewels.
There was no mistaking the road, but Gray did not bother to stick to
the main-traveled course when detours or short cuts promised better
going, for he knew full well that Mallow would be waiting, if at all,
in some place he was bound to pass. It was an ideal country for a
holdup; lonely and lawless. Derrick lights twinkled over the mesquite
tops, and occasionally the flaming red mouth of some boiler gaped at
him, or the foliage was illuminated by the glare of gas
flambeaux--vertical iron pipes at the ends of which the surplus from
neighboring wells was consumed in what seemed a reckless wastage.
Occasionally, too, a belated truck thundered past, but the traffic was
pretty thin.
At last, however, he beheld some distance ahead the white glare of two
stationary lights. The road was narrow and sandy here, and shut in by
banks of underbrush; as he drew nearer a figure stepped out and stood
in silhouette until his own lights picked it up. The figure waved its
arms, and called attention to the car behind--evidently broken down.
Here, then, the drama was to be played.
Gray brought his machine on at such a pace and so close to the man in
the road that the latter was forced to step aside, then he swung it far
to the right, brought it back with a quick twist of the steering wheel,
and killed his motor. He was now in the ditch and outside the blinding
glare of the opposing headlights; the stalled machine was in the full
illumination of his own lamps.
Contrary to Gray's expectations, the car in the road was empty and the
man who had hailed him was a stranger. As the latter approached, he
inquired:
"What's wrong?"
"Out of gas, I guess. Anyhow--I--" The speaker noted that there was but
one new arrival, where he had expected two, and the discovery appeared
to nonplus him momentarily. He stammered, involuntarily he turned his
head.
Gray looked in the same direction, but without changing his position,
and out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a new figure emerging from
the shadows behind him. Very clever! But, at least, his unexpected
maneuver with his own car had made it necessary for both men to
approach him from the same side.
While the first stranger continued to mumble, Gray sat motionless,
keenly conscious, meanwhile, of that other presence closing in upon him
from the rear. He simulated a violent start when a second voice cried:
"Don't move. I've got you covered."
"My God!" Gray twisted about in his seat and exposed a startled
countenance. A masked man was standing close to the left running board,
and he held a revolver near Gray's head; the apparition appeared to
paralyze the unhappy traveler, for he still tightly clutched the
steering wheel with both hands.
"Just sit still." The cloth of the mask blew outward as the words
issued; through the slits two malevolent eyes gleamed. "Act pretty, and
you won't get hurt."
"Why! It's--it's Mr. _Mallow_!" Gray hitched himself farther around in
his seat and leaned forward in justifiable amazement. "As I live it's
you, Mallow!" Both highwaymen were in front of him, now, and shoulder
to shoulder; he made sure there were no others behind them.
"Shut up!" Mallow snapped. "Frisk him, Tony, and--"
The command was cut short by a startled, throaty cry--a hoarse sound of
astonishment and rage--and simultaneously a strange, a phenomenal thing
occurred. An unseen hand appeared to strike down both Mallow and his
accomplice where they stood, and it smote them, moreover, with
appalling force and terrifying effect. One moment they were in complete
mastery of the situation, the next they were groveling in the road,
coughing, sneezing, barking, retching, blaspheming poisonously. Baffled
fury followed their first surprise. Mallow tore the mask from his face
and groped blindly for the weapon he had dropped, but before he could
recover it, pain mastered him and he fell back, clawing at himself,
rubbing at his eyes that had been stricken sightless. He yelled. Tony
yelled. Then upon the startled night there burst a duet of squeals and
curses, a hideous medley of mingled pain and fright, at once terrifying
and unnatural. Both bandits appeared to be in paroxysms of agony; from
Tony issued sounds that might have issued from the throat of a woman in
deadly fear and excruciating torment; Mallow's face had been partially
protected, hence he was the lesser sufferer; nevertheless, his eyes
were boiling in their sockets, his lungs were ablaze, ungovernable
convulsions ran over him.
The men understood vaguely what had afflicted them, for they had seen
Gray lift one hand from the wheel, and out of that hand they had seen a
stream of liquid, or a jet of aqueous vapor, leap. It was too close to
dodge. It had sprung directly into their faces, vaporizing as it came,
and at its touch, at the first scent of its fumes, their legs had
collapsed, their eyes had tightly closed, and every cell in their
outraged bodies had rebelled. It was as if acid had been dashed upon
them, destroying in one blinding instant all power for evil. With every
breath, now, a new misery smote them. But worse than this torture was
the monstrous nature of their afflictions. It was mysterious, horrible;
they believed themselves to be dying and screamed in abysmal terror of
the unknown.
Gray squeezed again the rubber bulb that he had carried in his hand
these last several miles, ejecting from it the last few drops of its
contents, then he opened the car door, stepped out of it and stood over
his strangling victims. He kicked Mallow's revolver off the road, and,
holding his breath, relieved the other high-jacker of his weapon. This
he flung after the first, then he withdrew himself a few paces and
lighted a cigarette, for a raw, pungent odor offended his nostrils.
Both of the bawling bandits reeked of it, but their plight left him
indifferent. They reminded him of a pair of horses he had seen
disemboweled by a bursting shell, but he felt much less pity for them.
His lack of concern made itself felt finally. Mallow, who was the first
to show signs of recovery, struggled to his feet and clawed blindly
toward the automobile. He clung to it, sick and shaking; profanely he
appealed for aid.
"So! It _is_ Mr. Mallow," Gray said. "Fancy meeting you here!"
A stream of incoherencies issued from the wretched object of this
mockery. Tony, the other man, stifled his groans, rose to his knees,
and, with his hands clasped over his eyes, shuffled slowly away, as if
to escape the sound of Gray's voice.
"Better quiet down and let me do something at once, if you wish to save
your sight," the latter suggested. "Otherwise I won't answer for the
result. And you needn't tell me how it hurts. I know." This proffer of
aid appeared to throw the sufferers into new depths of dismay. They
called to him in the name of God. They were harmless, now, and anyhow
they had intended to do him no bodily harm. They implored him to lend
succor or to put them out of their distress.
Gray fell to work promptly. The bottle of cream he had begged from Ma
Briskow he now put to use. With this soothing liquid he first washed
out their eyes, the membranes of which were raw and spongy, and
excruciatingly sensitive to light, then he bandaged them as best he
could with compresses, wet in it.
"You'll breathe easier as time goes on," he announced. "You'll cough a
good deal for a few days, but where you are going that won't disturb
anybody. Your eyes will get well, too, if you take care of them as I
direct. But, meanwhile, let me warn you against lifting those bandages.
Advise me as they dry out and I'll wet them again."
A blessed relief stole over the unfortunate pair; they were still sick
and weak, but in a short time the acuteness of their suffering had
diminished sufficiently for Gray to help them into the back seat of his
car and resume his journey.
Sarcastically he referred to the sample case on the tonneau floor. "If
those diamonds are in your way, I'll take them in front with me. If
not, I'll ask you to keep an eye on them--or, let us say, keep a foot
on them. If you should be foolish enough to heave them overboard or try
to renew your assault upon me, I would be tempted to break this milk
bottle. In that event, my dear Mallow, you'd go through life with a tin
cup in your hand and a dog on a string."
Tony groaned in abject misery of body and soul. Mallow cursed feebly.
"What--is that devilish stuff?" the latter queried. It was plain from
his voice that he meditated no treachery. "Oh! I was going to tell you.
It is a product of German ingenuity, designed, I believe, for the
purpose of quelling riotous and insurrectionary prisoners. It was
efficacious, also, in taking pill boxes and clearing out dug-outs and
the like. With some care one is safe in using it in an ordinary ammonia
gun--the sort policemen use on mad dogs. Forgive me, if I say that you
have demonstrated its utility in peace as well as in war. If there were
more high-jackers in the world the device might be commercialized at
some profit; but, alas, my good Mallow, your profession is not a common
one."
"Cut out the kidding," Mallow growled, then he fell into a new
convulsion of coughing. The car proceeded for some time to the tune of
smothered complaints from the miserable figures bouncing upon the rear
seat before Gray said: "I fear you are a selfish pair of rascals. Have
you no concern regarding the fate of the third member of your
treasure-hunting trio?" Evidently they had none. "Too bad! It's a good
story."
Whatever their indifference to the welfare of the chauffeur, they still
had some curiosity as to their own, for Mallow asked:
"What are you going to do with us?"
"What would you do, if you were in my place?"
"I'd--listen to reason."
"Meaning--?"
"Hell! You know what he means," Tony cried, feebly.
"So! You do me the honor to offer a bribe." Gray laughed. "Pardon my
amusement. It sounds callous, I know, but, frankly, your unhappy
condition fails to distress me. Well, how much do you offer?"
"All we got. A coupla thousand."
"A temptation, truly."
Mallow addressed his companion irritably. "Have a little sense. He
don't need money."
Calvin Gray had never been more pleased with himself than now, for
matters had worked out almost exactly according to plan, a compliment
indeed to his foresight and to his executive ability. He loved
excitement, he lived upon it, and much of his life had been devoted to
the stage-management of sensational exploits like this one. As a boy
plays with a toy, so did Gray amuse himself with adventure, and now he
was determined to exact from this one the last particle of enjoyment
and whatever profit it afforded.
Within a few minutes of his arrival at Ranger, the town was noisy with
the story, for he drove down the brightly lighted main street and
stopped in front of the most populous cafe. There he called loudly for
a policeman, and when the latter elbowed his way through the crowd,
Gray told him, in plain hearing of all, enough of his experience to
electrify everybody. He told the story well; he even made known the
value of his diamond stock; mercilessly he pilloried the two
blindfolded bandits. When he drove to the jail the running boards of
his car were jammed with inquisitive citizens, and those who could not
find footing thereon followed at a run, laughing, shouting, acclaiming
him and jeering at his prisoners.
Having surrendered custody of the latter, he dressed their eyes once
more and explained the sort of care they required, then he made an
appeal from the front steps of the jail, adjuring the mob to disperse
quietly and permit the law to take its course.
Nothing like this had occurred during the brief, busy life of the town.
It was a dramatic incident, but the manner in which this capable
stranger had handled it and the discomfiture he had brought upon his
assailants appealed more to the risibilities than to the anger of
Ranger. Admiration for him displaced indignation at the high-jackers;
cries for vengeance upon them were drowned in noisy appreciation of
their captor. Gray became a popular character; men clamored to shake
his hand, and complimented him upon his nerve. The editor of the local
newspaper dragged him, protesting, to the office and there interviewed
him. Gray was covered with confusion. Reluctantly he made known his
identity, and retold the whole story of his trip, this time beginning
at his meeting with Coverly in Dallas. He displayed the bewildering
contents of his sample case, now guarded by a uniformed arm of the law,
and explained how he had volunteered his services out of pure love of
adventure, then how he had played into Mallow's hands while aware of
his malign purpose at all times.
This was more than a local story; it was big enough for the wire. Gray
sat at the editor's elbow while that enthusiastic gentleman called
Dallas and gave it to the papers there.
He was escorted to the railroad station by an admiring crowd; he was
cheered as he passed, smiling, into his Pullman car.