Adventure, August 3, 1919 — page 103: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

reer | ’ ¥ BD = . aa’ I could hear them yellin’ uncouth sounds in the distance tot , time as they searched, but soon they all drifted in—all but the prince and Degraw. They told me that these two, who were old woodsmen, would soon round up the black- hearted spalpeen and bring him back dead or alive. e prince, they said, was quite likely to kill him first and ask questions afterward. They told me to remember every detail, for I would be the most im- portant witness, and this made me very nervous. Every few minutes one or two of them were compelled by their emotions to go outside. a Suddenly there came a wild, thrillin’ yell from out of the dark, starless night. Out they rushed. Between the dead man inside and a murderer loose outside I felt like sittin’ tight, sor. When they came in, they had the artist chap, drippin’ wet, who said that he had been pushed into the lake by some unseen hand. He thought it was O’Toole’s. I was much upset by their indecent levity, sor, for they split their sides at his misfortune even in the presence of the corpse. It was quite shockin’! None of them knew the bally counthry about there, and they were afraid of bein’ lost in the dark. Besides, O’Toole was well armed, having another pistol besides the one he had dropped, as I omitted to mention, beside the corpse and which had been laid behind the bar right near me, which increased my nervous horrors. They knew so many details about the lives of O’Toole and O’Keefe and related so many of them, sor, that I was really made quite ill. Finally along about midnight a loud war-whoop that chilled my veins called them out, and soon they returned with the villain O’Toole. They had _ evidently handled him roughly enough, and Sheriff Degraw had handcuffed him so that he was quite harmless, as you might say. But he glared at me as if about to spring at me, and the artist chap got between us. And he says: - “Let us give this fiend in human shape a dose of lynch-law right here and now and string himup. He’sas guilty as ,? says he, “and he’s cheated the gallows many times already. You remember how he got off after tellin & the old woman over at _ Smoky Hollow?” bt . A Night in the Wilderness | 93 ‘We do that,’’ says the prince. ‘‘And do you mind how he slipped out of the noose the time he cut the throats of the two school-teachers in Goshen?” “Sure! He’s a bally bad one!” said the sheriff. “It’s agin my oath of office to countenance such work, but we'll try him tonight.” | “Can’t you wait until tomorrow so I can send for a lawyer?” asks O’Toole with a groan. “We can not!” says the prince. “You'll have to play your hand alone this time, Petey, me boy.” So they started to try him. They made me give my testimony first. It was a sweatin’ job, sor, with O’Toole’s devilish eyes burnin’ holes into me bewhilst. When I was through, Degraw says: “We saw it all. A hundred witnesses wouldn’t add to the proof. We'll hang him on young Jarvis’ evidence alone.” “He’s done for me!” says O'Toole. “Tt’s lucky for him that this is a dirty lynch-law trial, or I'd get him sure later: As it is, my spook will hant you, young feller, tll your dyin’ day! May your food choke youl May your booze taste like bilge-water! May your feet be cold in Winter and roast in Summer! And may your wife take your earnings to Asbury Park!” “Be reasonable, O’Toole!’’ says the prince. “The boy’s only done his duty to the counthry——”’ “Hfe’s no better than a lousy informer!” _ cries O’Toole. ‘‘Men, I ask you as a per- sonal favor not to hang me like a horse- thief! Shoot me and let me die like the good old scout I am! O’Keefe only got what was comin’ to him, ard well he de- served it. He stole both my wives. I forgave him and, in fact, paid the carfare omone occasion. I overlooks his weakness when he double-crossed me the time we robbed the Prudential Bank and killed the old cashier, who was my second-cousin. But he went too far for human endurance the night he set the opera house on fire and burned up ninety-six women and children!”’ “Ah! Did he do that deed?” asks Degraw. He was that overcome he leans on the shoulder of the prince, and both of them were sobbin’, sor. But the prince with a deep frown says: “Raw stuff, Petey, and old! This isn’t a Newark jury. 4 P oat : % 4 » & . oe Fie be fee be o? Bern “6 ae Sit i al —_ hp : - owe ‘ihe _ ee ~ ge ~- ~ } ¥ ; : a