THE BARON’S EXPERIENCE.
“Idt pegins to loogk like excidemendt iss goming my vay in punches.”
The round-bodied baron, hiding in the shadows, stared hard at a man
of big girth who hurried past him bearing a burden in his arms that
strongly resembled the limp form of a woman.
The baron, having heard everything in that interview with Vera
Bright, had begged to be assigned work in and about the Casino.
“I haf done some goot sbying dhere alreadty,” he urged. “I know some
uff der beoples, too.”
“But you couldn’t disguise yerself, Schnitz. Every dog in Blossom
Range knows ther look o’ ye, by this time,” old Nomad had told him.
“Vhen I dry, I gan disguises meinselluf as vell as eenypoty,” the
baron had protested; “but yoost dhis dime I aind’t going to tried
idt; I am going to der show, unt loogk aroundt a liddle afdher idt
iss ofer. Alreadty I haf peen to dhis show more as vunce; unt I gan
go ag’in mitout keeking oop any teeficuldy.”
Buffalo Bill had let the baron go.
After the Casino performance was over, the German managed to lose
himself in the wine rooms and corridors that lay behind the Casino
and connected it with the establishment presided over by Gopher Gabe.
Yet he had not escaped observation entirely. A waiter, meeting him
in a passage, had asked him what he was doing there. And when the
baron said he was trying to find his way out, the waiter had escorted
him to the exit.
The baron had gone out; then he had come in again.
This time he professed to be seeking White-eyed Moses.
“I hear he iss a Cherman, unt uff so, I vant to git acvainted mit
him,” was his statement.
He did not find White-eyed Moses--did not look for him; but again
made his way into the passage which he had been forced to leave.
When near the saloon he heard the low grumble of the voice of Gopher
Gabe, at the time Gabe was talking with the woman; but he could not
hear what was said.
Crouching in a dark corner, the baron waited; he wanted to see with
whom the saloon keeper was conversing.
It was while in that spot that the big figure of Gopher Gabe loomed
before him; then passed swiftly on, bearing in his arms what seemed
to be the limp body of a woman.
Gopher Gabe had apparently passed without seeing the baron.
The latter rose up immediately and began to follow.
“Dot iss shure a vomans,” he thought; “unt it look to me as if she
iss inkinscious. Uff so, idt haf a meanness.”
In the dim light, the baron saw Gopher Gabe slide his huge bulk
through one of the doors of the wine rooms. Then the door closed
behind him. But as the room was not lighted the baron was not able
even yet to make sure that this was Gopher Gabe.
So he crouched outside, again waiting. He had reached the belief that
the woman was Vera Bright.
Five minutes later the big man came out of that room, alone.
Again he passed the baron, without apparently seeing him; and went
toward the saloon.
The baron squatted in the gloom, staring at the door, which the
saloon keeper had closed behind him on coming out.
“He leef der inkinscious voman in dot room vor shure,” was the
baron’s conclusion. “Maybe diss iss a case uff murter. Idt iss oop to
me to see. By yiminy, uff a murter haf been gommitted, Gopher Gape
vill findt himselluf in a slings.”
He rose to his feet, trembling with eagerness.
“Shall I dry der door?” he asked himself. “I ton’dt know vot iss in
dare; unt maybe I gan’t git in uff I dry idt. Yidt, here iss going.”
He crept up to the door, listened, then tried some keys he had on a
ring in his pocket. To his gratification one of them turned the bolt
of the lock, and the door opened.
Having entered cautiously, he closed the door behind him; then stood
listening in the darkness. The room was quiet. From the wine rooms
beyond he heard singing and laughter.
“Iss eenypoty in here?” he asked, in a hoarse whisper.
He got no satisfaction from this; so concluded to risk a match.
When it flared up and he looked about by its light he saw the
outlines of a very small square room, which was empty. The only door
was the one by which he had come in, and there were no windows. The
woman was not there. The only thing which drew his attention as being
out of the ordinary was a piece of wood, or board, braced below the
ceiling, which seemed likely to fall if touched or jarred.
“Vale, I am oop a sdump!” he concluded, staring round in
disappointment. “She vos broughdt in here, budt she iss not bresent.
Vot is der explanadions?”
He turned to the door, intending to leave the room.
As he did so he felt the floor begin to sink under him, carrying him
downward.
He jumped for the door; but he could not get out now, even when
he tried to open it, for the descent of the platform was so swift
that by the time he had the door opened a blank wall was passing
apparently upward before his face. He could not see it clearly,
because of the darkness; but he felt the wall sliding upward, when he
touched it with his fingers.
“I am going indo der cellar uff dhis estaplishmendt! Maybe der voman
vent der same vay. Yaw! I pedt you I am guessing righdt. Now, uff----”
The sinking floor stopped with a bump that brought the baron to
his knees. He heard the piece of timber which he had seen over him
scuttling down, and threw up his arm to ward it off; failing to do
so, it rapped him on the head, knocking him heavily to the floor.
The door opened; and the baron, dazed and bewildered, was seized
by strong arms and dragged out, not knowing at the moment what was
happening to him.
When he came back to something like clearness of thought a dim light
was shining before him, and by it a man was sitting. The man was
Gopher Gabe, and the light was from a candle stuck on top of a box.
The place seemed to be a cellar, and had the odor of one.
The baron’s first effort was to brush away cobwebs that seemed to
obscure his vision. In trying it, he made the discovery that he was
tied up, hand and foot. He was dizzy and half blind.
“Vale,” he said, “how iss dhis?”
His voice sounded strange to him, and far off.
“You know where you are?” came in answer.
“I seem to be in der cellar. Who ar-re you, eenyhow? Somedings seems
to pe fluddering pefore mine eyes, so dot I do not see so blain as I
wouldt like.”
“How did you get in here?”
“Idt iss der kvestion I am vandting to ask uff you.”
“Do you know who I am?”
The baron leaned forward and stared.
“Iss dare somedings pefore mine eyes? I am in sooch a bevildermendt
dot I ton’dt know nottings blainly.”
“You got a crack on the head when the elevator stopped; I guess
that’s what’s the matter with you. There was a piece of timber loose
in that elevator, and it fell down on you.”
“T’anks vor der misinformadion,” the baron grunted incredulously.
“But the question is, What was you doin’ in that elevator?”
“I ditn’t knowed idt vos one.”
“Well, you know now; and by buttin’ in where you had no business you
got yerself in this fix.”
The German, feeling his way back to clearer thought, did not answer
this.
“You was spying!” said the man.
The baron stared hard at him again.
“You are Misder Gopher Gape, I t’ink,” he said at last.
“So you’ve recognized me?”
“Vhy you tie me oop like dhis, Misder Gopher Gape?”
“So you won’t hurt yerself, and so you won’t go pokin’ about in
places where you’ll get into trouble. I’m goin’ to let you think over
that a while. By and by, I’ll see you again.”
Gopher Gabe arose, took the candle, and disappeared, leaving the
baron in total darkness.
“Vale, dis iss a kveer pitzness,” he said. “Yaw! I remember now, dot
I was drying to findt oudt vot habben to der vomans. Unt so I gidt me
into teeficuldy. I vonder vhat pecame uff her?”
He had unconsciously spoken his thought aloud, in his queer English.
Then a voice reached him, from some spot near:
“I am here!”
The baron twisted around in his cords, staring.
“You ar-re here? I ton’dt seen you.”
“It would be hard to see anything, in this black hole.”
“Yaw! I pelief you. You come down py der elefator, too--huh!”
“I don’t know how I got here.”
“Yaw! I remember. You vos inkinscious.”
“That man attacked me, after he had sent for me to visit him in his
room back of his saloon; he choked me until I couldn’t breathe; then
I lost consciousness. I think he means to kill us. For myself, I am
sure of it.”
“Yoompin’ yack rappits! Iss dot so-o?”
“I’m sure of it. I saw it in his eyes when he lunged at me.”
“Dhen I am t’inking dot ve petter pe findting a vay to gidt oudt uff
dhis blace.”
“If it could be done!” she said hopelessly.
“Aber I----”
But he stopped; for voices had reached them. They had been speaking
in whispers, or little more; and the voices came merely as a low
grumble, as if walls separated them from the speakers. When they kept
silence and listened they could now and then make out words, that,
apparently, were not meant for their ears.
“We’ll show Cody a thing or two,” was one thing they heard. “He
has been thinking he is only up ag’inst a couple of men. He is now
gettin’ his eyes open to the fact that he’s got a crowd to fight. But
we can down him. A shot from the dark will put him out of business.
As for this fool Dutchman, we’ll hold him a while, for we may want to
use him; then _he_ can go over the road.”
The grumble rose and fell, so that a good many things could not be
made out; but something was said about the Fool of Folly Mountain.
Then some words came quite clearly.
“He’s in with us, all right;” this plainly referring to Uncle Sam.
“Cody thinks he is standing in with him; and we’ll let him think it.
By and by, if we don’t down him too soon with a bullet, Cody will
learn the truth.”
Again the grumble died down.
Then once more words came which could be understood.
“The trapper, too; we’ll fix him. Needn’t think he can come into this
camp and put the kibosh onto us; it can’t be done easy. We’ve got
too many friends here, and our organization is too strong.”
For some time the voices went on, in a grumble that rose and fell.
But, though snatches of the talk came into the cellar, the baron got
little more that he could piece together into intelligible sentences.
At last the talk stopped altogether. But the men were not heard to
walk away. Still, it was apparent that they had gone.
“Vot do you t’ink uff idt?” the baron breathed at last.
“It proves just what I said--that Gopher Gabe means to kill us. It
proves, too, what I’ve thought, that he has a strong organization in
this town. Cody will find that he is fighting all the thugs and bad
men of Blossom Range, and there is a regiment of them; I think that
in the end they will kill him, too.”
“Ton’dt you pelieve idt!” protested the baron. “Dare iss nodt
eenypoty vot gan kill Cody.”
“He doesn’t bear a charmed life any more than other men; and a bullet
in the dark, or a knife thrust, can put him out of the way as easy as
it would any one else.”
“You ton’dt knowed Cody!”
“Yes, I know him. But his days are numbered.”
“You are loogking indo der darkness,” said the baron; “loogk oudt
ondo der sunlighdt.”
The woman seemed to laugh.
“I can’t see any sunlight, in this black place.”
“Imachine dot you see der sunlighdt, eenyhow! Idt vill hellup. As vor
Schnitzenhauser, he nefer gifs oop. I haf peen in vorse blaces, unt I
am sdill lifing. You pedt me, ve gan gidt oudt uff dhis.”
“I wish you would show me how.”
“Py yiminy, I vill!”
He began to tug and struggle, in a wild effort to release his hands
from the cords that cut them.
“I pedt I vill magke idt,” he declared. “Uff in no odder vays, I vill
gidt you to gnaw dhem off yoost like a radt.”