Читать книгу: «Deadwood Dick Jr. Branded: or, Red Rover at Powder Pocket.», страница 6
CHAPTER XVI.
THE FIRST BLOW STRUCK
The caller had suddenly torn the beard from his face and flung it to the floor.
It was the face of Deadwood Dick, handsome, grim, and he looked the quailing banker in the eyes as he stood before him.
"Do you know me, Joaquin Escala?" he demanded.
"N – no, I do not know you. And you call me by a name not my own. Leave my office."
"You fail to recognize me, Captain Joaquin? Then I must show you a proof of identity that you cannot fail to recognize. Behold!"
Deadwood Dick tore open his shirt and exposed the brand of a horseshoe.
There it was, never to be effaced, the brand of a horseshoe that had seared itself into the living flesh.
The man at the desk started to rise, but could not do so; he was like one partly paralyzed and partly bereft of reason. He could only stare.
"Well, I see you recognize me now," said Dick.
"I deny it," was the gasped response. "You are a crazy man. You are a lunatic. Leave my office, or I will not be responsible for your life – "
"Hold! If you reach for a gun, or attempt to call assistance, it will signal your instant death, Red Rover. You and I have a little account to settle and we must have a chat."
"I tell you you are mistaken."
"I know that I am not. Let us not dwell upon that, but come right to the point. You cannot hope to make me doubt what I know to be a fact. Now, what vengeance do you suppose I will take upon you for this?"
"I tell you you are making a mis – "
"I made one mistake once with you, but will not make another. You left me for dead, but Providence was not done with me yet – nor with you."
Perspiration was standing out upon the man's forehead.
"How can I convince you – "
"That you are not Captain Joaquin?"
"Yes, yes."
"Bare your right arm, and if it contains no scar, around from the shoulder and diagonally to the elbow, then you are not Captain Joaquin."
"Curse her! it was Susana told you that!"
"Now, perhaps we can come to business. I will sit down, and you will observe silence and keep your hands in plain sight on your desk."
Dick had a gun in hand, and was ready to use it instantly.
"We must come to terms," said the banker.
"And those terms will be mine," said Dick.
"Name them, then."
"Give me, in funds, the amount that was taken from the express train that day."
"Good heavens! it is more than I have got at my command on short notice like this. I could not do it if my life depended on it."
"Your life does depend on it."
"I must have time."
"You have just time to produce it, no more."
There was a steely glitter in Deadwood Dick's eyes.
This ex-outlaw quailed before him, and Dick saw that he would yield to the demand.
"I must speak to my cashier," he said.
"Not necessary," said Dick.
"Otherwise I cannot procure the funds – "
"It will not go down, sir. I will step with you into the other room, and there you will open the safe and hand out the amount."
A look of relief came suddenly into the entrapped outlaw's eyes.
Deadwood Dick read his thought. A smile curled his lips as he thought of the further surprise in store for the rascal if he acted upon the idea that had come into his mind.
"I will do that," said the outlaw.
"Very well, get up and precede me."
The man rose from his chair, taking care not to let it appear that he had any thought of reaching for a weapon.
He believed – he knew that would signal his instant death, after the treacherous manner in which he had dealt with Deadwood Dick on the former occasion, and he could not risk it.
Going to the door, he opened it, and the instant it was opened he leaped out, shouting:
"A robber! Shoot him!"
A woman was before him.
Strange men were in possession of the bank. Each of them had a badge on his breast.
Captain Joaquin looked around him in dismay, and his face turned even more deathly pale than ever, if possible.
The woman was Susana.
She was pale, but her face was determined.
With a quick movement the rascal reached for a pistol, but Deadwood Dick was upon him instantly.
"No you don't," he cried. "Whether you meant to shoot her or yourself, is all the same. Neither life can be spared just yet. Johnson, disarm him."
One of the deputies stepped forward and did so.
The clerks in the bank looked on with open-mouthed amazement. And as each of them had a man over him with a gun, they believed it to be a robbery.
As soon as relieved of his weapons, the fellow was allowed to go, and Dick again ordered him to produce the money from the safe, or order his cashier to do so in his stead.
He refused to obey.
"Then we must help ourselves," said Dick. "Bryce, you were express-agent at that time, and know the sum that was sent from the Castleville bank that day. Take the same sum from this safe now."
Another of the deputies stepped forward and entered the safe for the purpose.
He brought forth bundle after bundle of the funds, until he had the required amount in a pile on the nearest table.
"Is that right?" asked Dick.
"Yes, according to the markings."
"And that is no doubt correct. Pack it up for transportation."
This the man proceeded to do, with the utmost care and security, and at last it was done and they were ready to depart.
"Now, Mr. Brown," said Deadwood Dick, then, "we will take our leave. You know the justice of this visit, and why we have withdrawn by force a certain deposit that was in your hands."
"Curse you!"
"We can go further, but the time is not ripe. This is only the beginning of your retribution."
"You are robbers! This is only a trick to serve your purpose! I will have a posse after you within ten minutes after your departure!"
"Will you?"
"I swear it!"
"Then perhaps we had better end the business now. Shall I arrest you, make known your true name here, and let the citizens of this camp deal with you as you deserve?"
"Go, and make the best of what you have got. We will meet again some day, and then – "
"And then," said Dick, grimly.
He gave his men a signal and they left the room, then Susana, and last of all, Dick.
At the door he stopped for a last word with the outlaw, upon whom had fallen the first blow of a just vengeance.
"This is but the beginning," Dick said. "You know what to expect at my hands. I have drawn a cordon around you that you cannot hope to escape, and it is only a matter of time."
"Ha! I know you now!" was the last desperate ruse. "You are Captain Joaquin, the outlaw!"
"Perhaps I am," said Dick.
He withdrew, and went down the street. Susana was with him.
The others, somehow, had disappeared already, and after these two turned a corner, they, too, were seen no more.
It was as if the very earth had opened and taken them in. And when, a little later, the hue and cry of a daylight robbery was raised, not a vestige of the robbers could be found.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE SECOND BLOW FALLS
Powder Pocket was all excitement.
Banker Brown declared it was Captain Joaquin who had made the raid.
Not that he knew that worthy by sight, but so, he declared, the robber chief had admitted in private.
The clerks could not dispute this, although their impression had been that the persons who made the raid were regular officers of the law, and their side of the story got out.
This, the banker averred, had been but a clever trick, in case of discovery by citizens during the time they were in the bank. It had been one of the most remarkable bank robberies on record. The bank, however, could stand it, Mr. Brown declared, and would not close its doors.
About a month prior to this time there had come to Powder Pocket a man who called himself Card-Sharp Cale.
Who he was, more than that, no one knew.
He was very dark of skin, almost as swarthy as an Ethiopian, had long hair and a beard of almost equal length.
With him was a younger man, his brother, of similar complexion, some years the junior of the other and beardless, save for a slender mustache that became him well.
These two had opened a gaming establishment.
It was a place where faro ruled, and their bank was declared to be practically limitless.
After a consultation with Banker Brown, on coming to Powder Pocket, this Card-Sharp Cale had deposited fifty thousand dollars in Brown's bank, subject to order.
It had been no uncommon thing for checks of from five to twenty thousand to be presented there of a morning, but the deposits, as a rule, had been greater than the withdrawals, and so, at the time of the robbery, Card-Sharp Cale had about a hundred thousand dollars on deposit.
On the morning after the robbery he dropped in at the bank.
"How is your concern after your loss?" he made inquiry, when greetings had been exchanged.
"It is all right," was the answer. "I have plenty of funds on hand yet that the devils did not find. They took only what was in sight."
"I understand they demanded a certain sum."
"Yes, so they did. They thought that was my pile. That, by the way, was the capital I started with, and they must have heard of it in some manner. But I have doubled it since, to say nothing of your big deposit, and others."
"Then you are ready to meet big checks?"
"Yes, we are all right."
"Because, as I was going to say, luck went against me last night and my bank went broke."
The banker paled.
"You don't mean it?"
"Yes. My checks are out to the tune of some sixty thousand dollars."
"Whew! Beaten at your own game. This is serious; I must find out just what we have got on hand at once."
He went into the outer room, and his caller smiled as the door closed after him. There was something familiar about that smile, now that Card-Sharp Cale was alone.
When the banker returned his face was like death.
"I am in a hole," he declared. "A check has just been paid to the tune of thirty-four thousand, and there is not five thousand left on hand."
"This is serious, Mr. Brown. I have got to have my balance, or I shall have to close my game to-night for want of funds. You must gather in all you can and make me whole."
"What is your balance, less this check I speak of?"
"It must be fifty thousand."
"I can't do it, on short notice; you will have to give me time. Will you force me to the wall?"
"You can pay or you cannot pay, and in the latter case you are at the wall already. There is nothing for me to do in the matter; I must have what is due me."
"Give me a week."
"Impossible! Think of the loss to me."
"Then give me three days – two days, one! I tell you I am unable to meet your demand."
"You must close your doors, then."
"And that will ruin me."
"You are ruined already."
"And you will not spare me?"
"How can I, and why should I?"
"As one man to another, you should."
"And see my own business ruined. No, no; that is not business, as business goes. I must have what is due me; and, besides my deposit I have been accepting papers of yours, believing them to be perfectly good, and they will make up a nice sum."
Brown wiped the perspiration from his face.
"What can I do?" he asked.
"There is only one thing you can do."
"And that is – "
"Convey your property here to me for security."
"And go forth a beggar?"
"Can I help that?"
"Be merciful."
"Do you show mercy?"
"I would, were our positions changed."
"What about that loan made to Hiram Smith which you foreclosed only a few days ago?"
"He is a beat; he never meant to pay."
"I do not believe that. Had I known of it in time I would have saved him. For a few paltry hundreds you scooped in his property worth thousands."
"That was business; he could not pay, and – "
"Ah! you see where you are, don't you? This is business, as I said. It is your own kind of business. Can you square accounts with me, Mr. Brown, if I give you an hour?"
"Impossible."
"Then I must take possession here, and will send at once for the proper authorities."
"You will take charge? By what right?"
"By the right of might."
"You cannot trust me, then, an hour?"
"Not a minute. Practically, you are my prisoner."
The ex-outlaw flushed, and his hand sought his hip, but he was covered in a trice by a brace of guns.
"No you don't!" was the cry. "Bring that hand up from there, and bring it up empty, too! Call in your chief clerk and tell him to close the bank and put up a notice!"
"I dare not; the people will mob me if I do that."
At that moment the door opened, and the cashier looked in, taking in the situation.
"A check for thirty thousand dollars, sir!" he said.
"It is yours," said Brown, turning appealingly to Card-Sharp Cale.
"I suppose it is."
"Can't you hold it back and give me a chance?"
"Not a minute. You have my money on demand; meet my paper or take the consequence."
"But, the robbery."
"Your loss, not mine."
"I could kill you, curse you!"
"Not a doubt of it; you have tried that before."
Instantly the man was upon his feet, and his visitor removed his long, curling beard.
Lo! it was Dick Bristol again! No mistaking that face, even though stained, as we have described. He smiled, and his revolvers covered the rascal's heart.
The cashier might have tried to interfere, but at that moment into the room slipped Card-Sharp Cale's brother, "Joe," he was called, and he, too, had a pair of guns in hand. And Joaquin Escala, utterly overcome, sank cowering upon his chair.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE THIRD STROKE
Deadwood Dick was as inexorable as fate.
This the rascal knew, and he did not dare lift his head to ask further mercy.
"Well what shall it be?" asked Bristol. "Will you sign all over to me, or shall the expose be made here and now? I give you the choice."
"You will give me a chance?"
"I give you that choice. I intend to crush you by degrees."
"And if I do as you say – "
"I will give you a respite of twelve hours."
"I will do it. Cashier, tell that man the bank has to suspend. Put up a notice to close the doors."
"Yes, sir!"
"And say nothing about what you have seen in this room."
"Yes, sir!"
"And say to him, further, that he must return his check to the man who drew it," supplemented Card-Sharp Cale.
The cashier withdrew.
"Now, pard," remarked Dick to Susana, for it was she, of course. "Go and bring here two lawyers. Be as quick as you can, and this business shall be done in proper fashion."
The girl withdrew, and Dick and his arch enemy were alone together.
Captain Joaquin was silent.
"When these lawyers come," explained the Dead-Set Detective, "you will be allowed to transfer your property by the name in which you hold it. Your real name need not yet appear. As I said, I give you a respite."
"And my liberty during that respite?"
"Yes."
"It is all I ask."
"And it is a great deal more than you deserve."
In due time the lawyers were ushered in, and both greeted Banker Brown servilely.
"Gentlemen," remarked the banker, "I am caught in a trap, and am obliged to wind up my affairs at once. I must transfer my possessions to this gentleman and – "
"Ahem!" interrupted one of the lawyers. "Forced to suspend, eh? You want a receiver, that is all; let him take your affairs and straighten them out as best he can. Or, declare yourself bankrupt, and let your creditors get what they can – "
"Probably Mr. Brown will do the business in his own way," suggested Deadwood Dick.
"Certainly, certainly!"
"The bulk of my obligation is to this gentleman – "
"All of it, I think," from Dick. "I have gathered up every scrap of your paper."
"Anyhow, I intend to deed over to him – "
"The sum of fifty thousand dollars," interrupted Bristol. "All the rest of your property, real and personal, you will transfer to Susana Maxton, without reserve – "
"He will do nothing of the kind!" asserted one of the lawyers. "There is a law in the land, sir, and – "
"And he will do as he pleases, eh?"
"It is forced."
"Ask him if it is."
"It is my will," avowed the cutthroat. "You will draw up papers according to my dictation, gentlemen."
That settled the point. The papers were duly drawn and signed and attested, and the second move in the great game had been made successfully. But, there was another yet to follow.
It was night, and a man was softly stealing his way out of Powder Pocket.
"Banker Brown," ruined, was trying to elude his mortal foe, and he believed he could do so.
Little had been seen of Brown the remainder of the day, after the business transaction at the bank, and Card-Sharp Cale, and Joe, too, had disappeared.
In disguise, as a miserable, hungry outcast, Captain Joaquin was trying to escape with his life, with a bitter resolve in his heart that, sooner or later, he would square the account with his implacable foe, Deadwood Dick.
Out of camp he stole, unhindered, and off into the hills.
For a time he used caution, but, at last, feeling that escape was assured, he ran, and did not stop until he was nearly breathless.
"Curse you!" he panted, shaking his fist in the direction of the camp. "I have escaped, and you shall yet hear from me! Your inning this time, Dick Bristol, but mine will come!"
He fairly gnashed his teeth in his impotent rage.
"You are not done with Captain Joaquin," he vowed, in emphatic tone. "He will yet suck your life's blood from your veins – and yours, too, accursed Susana! It was all through you that this blow fell upon me. I will take to the road again; I will gather my men around me once more, and nothing shall stop my career."
Of a sudden light flashed upon the scene, and a woman stood before him – Susana – with a leveled revolver!
"I will not bear the blame that does not belong to me," she said, her voice firm, but her face pale. "There was a time when I could, and would, have followed you to death, but you blasted my love by your cruel suspicions. You wrongly accused me, and you would not show mercy where mercy was deserved. You turned my love to hate, and now I am your most bitter foe."
"Ha! ha! ha!" the outlaw laughed. "So, wildcat, it is you? I am glad we have met, for my vengeance must begin with you. Drop that gun, or, by the stars above, I will drop you!"
He dodged and drew his own weapons; but, in the same second, he was grabbed from behind by strong hands.
It was in vain he struggled.
"Did you hope to escape me?" asked Deadwood Dick. "You were a fool to think it. Do you know what is in store for you? Let me first bind your hands, and I will tell you."
Dick was not alone; there were other men besides himself, who held the prisoner while Dick bound him.
"There," he said, having tied the road-ruffian's hands, "now you are safe. Perhaps you remember what you did for me. Perhaps you remember this horseshoe. Perhaps you – "
Captain Joaquin uttered a scream.
"You do not mean to brand me!"
"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth," assured Dick.
"Anything but that – anything but that! Shoot me, hang me, but do not brand me!"
"Oh, it will hurt you no worse than it hurt me," averred Bristol, with a laugh. "If life is spared you, it may teach you a lesson of mercy to others. You are to be branded."
The wretch cried, begged to be spared; but all to no purpose. Dick called his men around him and told them the story, and his decision met their hearty approval. Not only so, but Susana exhibited no sign of pity or mercy for the cowering wretch.
A fire was made, and the horseshoe was heated.
"Now," announced Dick, when all was ready, "I will repay you in your own coin. This is the very same iron that branded me, and, while I do not fancy wearing a brand the same as yours – or allowing you to wear one similar to mine, rather – yet justice demands it. I feel again that iron searing my flesh; I feel again the rope around my neck; I hear again your mocking laughter, you execrable villain!"
"Have mercy! Have mercy!"
"Yes, I will have mercy; I will not hang you. I will give you your life. Hand me the iron!"
The victim writhed and screamed in anticipation of the acute agony he must suffer, as the iron was handed to Dick by a piece of wire caught in one of the nail holes.
Dick Bristol took the wire and held the red-hot shoe over the bare breast of his foe, smiling at his plea for mercy and his request for death at once, speedy and sure. He held it near enough for its heat to be keenly felt, and the cries of the craven wretch for mercy were indeed pitiful.
"Such mercy as you showed me!" reminded the detective. "I ought to brand your face with it instead of your breast. Suppose I lay it on your forehead and call you Cain? But, no, I will do no worse than you did to me. I will be merciful that far. When you feel it bite your flesh, when the smell of your own burning greets your nostrils, think of your own unmerciful act."
Dick moved as if to lay the shoe on the bare flesh, but hesitated. He glanced at Susana. She was standing by, her eyes on the ground, not a muscle moving. He recalled how she had pleaded for him, and contrasted her silence now. What were her thoughts? He looked again at his writhing victim, and allowed the voice within him to speak – the voice that had been struggling to be heard, yet which had been suppressed by his iron will.
"No, I will not!" he said, as if speaking to some one invisible to the others. "Let my punishment consist in showing mercy where mercy is not deserved."
As he spoke, he flung the hot iron as far as he could among the bushes and boulders.
"Thank God!"
It was Susana, and she threw her arms around the detective's neck.
"Not that I care for him," she said; "he deserved it, and I would not have lifted a finger; but I thank God that you are more merciful!"
Dick kissed her, in turn, and ordered his men to lift the outlaw from the ground. This they did, and led him away. In due course the road-ruffian was found guilty and imprisoned for life.
When Susana came into the property which had been deeded to her, and had turned it into cash, Bristol saw her safely to her friends, and there took leave of her. She had been a true pard, and he almost loved her. That she did love him was not to be doubted, and if ever he wanted a true friend he knew where to find one.
