Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine, Vol. 107 No. 3 — page 160: what you’re looking at

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

502 swelled by recent events to a diabolical desire to kill; and now even if he, Sorenson, succeeded in slipping away, his whereabouts would be known unless he destroyed the man. Safety demanded that he not only escape but escape without this witness. Weir had not sought cover. He stood upright, his revolver ready, trusting to have the advantage in his speed when it came to an exchange of shots. Then he began an advance, a slow, noiseless, circling advance that while taking him closer to his enemy brought him round on his flank. Sorenson’s hand and pistol appeared and half his face while three shots rattled from his gun, two at the spot where Weir had been and one at him in his new position, which the hiding man had immediately lo- cated. The last shot ticked the engineer's sleeve. In return Weir fired twice, the first bullet striking the rock and ricocheting off with a loud whine, while the second struck the pistol from Sorenson’s hand. Instantly Weir sprang forward. “ Show yourself,” he ordered. And the kneeling fugitive, disarmed, gripping his bleeding hand, arose sullenly to his feet. “ You’ve led me a chase, but I have you at last,” the engineer continued. ‘“ Now you’re going back to San Mateo and jail. Walk toward the horses.” Sorenson cast one bitter glance at the thicket in the ravine; by only the little matter of a few yards he had failed to gain liberty. For Weir his visage when he looked around again was never more hard, hostile, full of undying hatred. Though balked, he was not submissive and was the kind who kept his animosity to the end. Then he started off toward the horses, his own, which had staggered to its feet again, and Weir’s, both standing with hanging heads and heaving, quivering sides. All at once the cattleman halted and faced about. ‘* Most men have a price, and I suppose you have yours,” he said, with forced calm- ness. ‘I’m ready to pay it.” “You're going to pay it,” was the an- swer. “ How much will you ask to let me go?” “Tf you offered me ten million, which you haven’t got, I wouldn’t accept it,” ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. Weir said, harshly. “There isn’t enough money in the world to buy your liberty. You’re going back to San Mateo, and from there to the penitentiary or the gallows, one or the other.’’ ‘Tt will be neither,” Sorenson stated. “You’re mistaken, but I shall not argue the matter with you. Keep walking toward the horses.” Sorenson’s lips became compressed. He glanced down at his bleeding hand, shook the blood from his fingers. ‘“‘T stay here,” said he. Weir went a step nearer and thrust his face forward, jaw set, eyes smoldering. “Go on, I say!” he exclaimed. But the other did not retreat before him or indeed move at all. A sneer lifted his gray mustache. “You have a gun: you're a killer; here I am, unarmed and in your power,” he said. “You intend to take me in; I propose to stay here. If I go to San Mateo, it will be as a dead man. I'll see whether you have the nerve to shoot me down where I now stand. If you have, go to it. You can then take my body to town, but I’ll not have paid the price you name and Ill have the satisfaction of knowing I beat you at the last—in that, at least. Your bragging will be empty. Start your shooting any time you please.” The tone spoke com- plete contempt. Weir said nothing. The defiance, the supreme audacity of this assertion, coming so unexpectedly, surprised him and left him at a loss. He would not kill an unresisting man, even Sorenson, his worst enemy. Sor- enson in his place probably would not have hesitated to do so, for he hac no fine scru- ples in such matters; but for Steele Weir the thing was no more possible than strik- ing a woman or a child. It was not a question of nerve, as the other had stated. It was a test of brutality and consciencelessness. To shoot a man while escaping is one thing, to kill him while a prisoner, however contemptuous and brazen, was another. But there are means other than bullets for handling ob- stinate prisoners. Weir shifted his weapon so as to grasp the barrel and have the butt free.