The Argosy, June 1904 — page 43: what you’re looking at

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

IN THE DRAGON'S CLAW. enough in the darkness, for lead was geold from the leathern sack. He had not even taken the trouble to throw the bars away. ‘Help me drag him under the car, an’ we'll take a look at him to make sure he’s the man I spotted him for,” the leader went on. With some hesitation and no assist- ance, the two laid hold and_half- dragged, half-carried the unconscious form to a place between two cars, where the light would not be seen easily from the depot or the village. Holden’s assailant struck a match and lighted one of those short pieces of candle which the fraternity carry to illuminate the interior of closed box cars upon their travels. He sheltered the flame with the flap of his coat, and bent over the recumbent man. The editor lay upon the broad of his back, arms and legs outstretched, eyes half closed, and lips sightly apart. His face was dead-white and smeared with blood. Two of the tramps gazed at him with scared faces. But the other regarded him with hard, unflinching eyes. “ Say,” said the Kid hoarscly, “ you done it dis time, Punk! He’s dead— dat’s what he is.” “Sure ting,’ whispered the second. “Say, Kid, you an’ me didn’t have nuttin’ to do wit’ dis. You didn’t oughter soaked him wit’ no coupliw’ pin, Punk!” “Youse mugs 1s bug-house pro- tested the leader, “ pose he was croaked, what can dey do wit’? us? Didn’t he pull a gun on us? All we got to do is to swear we soaked him in sclf- defense—mind dat, Baldy, an’ you, too, Kid! If you two go back on me, it won’t make any difference *bout my gettin’ clear, but Ill fix vouse! But I don’t t’ink dere’d be no trouble on account 0’ dis—he’s de mug I seen advertised for on de tank, all right, all right.” “What we sot to do is dis,” said Baldy rapidly: “ We leaves him here aw’ drills for San Mart’—dat’s eighteen miles. Dere we makes a train for Los. Dey won’t find him till mornin’ an’ dey won’t be wise to who did it! ” “Dats right!” assented the Kid eagerly. “ Come on, Punk!” 10 A 12 PRODUCED BY UNZ.ORG G ELECTRONIC REPRODUCTION PROHIBITED 529 The man addressed as Punk (which in the tramp’s vocabulary means bread) stroked his bristly chin with a dirty hand and sucked his thin lips while his small, crue! eyes peered sidewise at one and the other alternately. Presently he straightened up and vented a great oath. “Youse is tryin’ to crawl, an’ it don’t go—see! I stays wit’? dis mug if I has to, aw puts de trouble onto youse— youse run away an’ I stayed—see? Dey’ll get youse all right, all right! But dis mug ain’t croaked for sure, an’ if he lives to stretch hemp, dere’s fifteen hundred reward. I got nerve enough to run a chance for dat.” “We aint goin’ to throw youse down,” declared Baldy in a whining voice. “We wouldn’t do dat nohow, Punk.” “Not on your life!” protested the Kid. “Cut it out—cut it out! don’t go wit? me! I’m dead wise to you cheap ’boes, sce? Youse’ll do what I say, becos youse is a-scared of me, see? Nuttin’ else. Make a break for a get- away, an’ I pipes for help an’ puts up a song-an’-dance dat’ll land youse in de en.” “We'll stick,” said Baldy. “Course you will,” returned the other contemptuously. ‘ Dere’s nuttin’ else doin’. Now you two stiffs pick him up an’ come along quiet.” The ascendancy of the older tramp over the others was complete. Hither would have given anything he ever ex- pected to possess rather than have taken up the body, but at the other’s bidding they obeyed, whimpering. Punk blew out the candle, and, crouching low, stole up the track be- tween the cars. They left the village and the station behind. Once a dog barked and they stopped, but the alarm came to nothing and they resumed their flight. Perhaps a furlong had been trav- ersed when the Kid stumbled and sank down, letting his end of the burden fall. “Tm all in,” he whimpered. “ S’help me, I can’t go no further—me back’s | bruk a’ready!” Punk uttered a fierce imprecation and drew the razor he had recovered. Hot air On clooolks.com