If dey finds her alive she'll blab sure, an' dey won't be no trouble 'bout gettin' us or identifyin' us neither."The other shrugged.
"Le's beat it," he whined."We can't more'n do time fer dis job if we stop now; but de udder'll mean--" and he made a suggestive circle with a grimy finger close to his neck.
"No it won't nothin' of de kind," urged his companion."Igot it all doped out.We got lots o' time before de dicks are due.We'll croak de skirt, an' den we'll beat it up de road AN'
MEET DE DICKS--see?"
The other was aghast.
"Wen did youse go nuts?" he asked.
"I ain't gone nuts.Wait 'til I gets t'rough.We meets de dicks, innocent-like; but first we caches de dough in de woods.We tells 'em we hurried right on to lead 'em to dis Byrne guy, an' wen we gets back here to de farmhouse an'
finds wot's happened here we'll be as flabbergasted as dey be.""Oh, nuts!" exclaimed the other disgustedly."Youse don't tink youse can put dat over on any wise guy from Chi, do youse? Who will dey tink croaked de old woman an' de ki-yi?
Will dey tink dey kilt deyreselves?"
"Dey'll tink Byrne an' his pardner croaked 'em, you simp,"replied Crumb.
Dink scratched his head, and as the possibilities of the scheme filtered into his dull brain a broad grin bared his yellow teeth.
"You're dere, pal," he exclaimed, real admiration in his tone."But who's goin' to do it?""I'll do it," said Crumb."Dere ain't no chanct of gettin' in bad for it, so I jest as soon do the job.Get me a knife, or an ax from de kitchen--de gat makes too much noise."Something awoke Billy Byrne with a start.Faintly, in the back of his consciousness, the dim suggestion of a loud noise still reverberated.He sat up and looked about him.
"I wonder what that was?" he mused."It sounded like the report of a gun."Bridge awoke about the same time, and turned lazily over, raising himself upon an elbow.He grinned at Billy.
"Good morning," he said, and then:
Says I, "Then let's be on the float.You certainly have got my goat;You make me hungry in my throat for seeing things that's new.
Out there somewhere we'll ride the range a-looking for the new and strange;My feet are tired and need a change.Come on! It's up to you!""Come on, then," agreed Billy, coming to his feet.
As he rose there came, faintly, but distinct, the unmistakable scream of a frightened woman.From the direction of the farmhouse it came--from the farmhouse at which Billy had purchased their breakfast.
Without waiting for a repetition of the cry Billy wheeled and broke into a rapid run in the direction of the little cluster of buildings.Bridge leaped to his feet and followed him, dropping behind though, for he had not had the road work that Billy recently had been through in his training for the battle in which he had defeated the "white hope" that time in New York when Professor Cassidy had wagered his entire pile upon him, nor in vain.
Dink searched about the summer kitchen for an ax or hatchet; but failing to find either rummaged through a table drawer until he came upon a large carving knife.This would do the job nicely.He thumbed the edge as he carried it back into the parlor to Crumb.
The poor woman, lying upon the floor, was quite conscious.
Her eyes were wide and rolling in horror.She struggled with her bonds, and tried to force the gag from her mouth with her tongue; but her every effort was useless.She had heard every word that had passed between the two men.She knew that they would carry out the plan they had formulated and that there was no chance that they would be interrupted in their gruesome work, for her husband had driven over to a farm beyond Holliday, leaving before sunrise, and there was little prospect that he would return before milking time in the evening.The detectives from Kansas City could not possibly reach the farm until far too late to save her.
She saw Dink return from the summer kitchen with the long knife.She recalled the day she had bought that knife in town, and the various uses to which she had put it.That very morning she had sliced some bacon with it.How distinctly such little things recurred to her at this frightful moment.And now the hideous creature standing beside her was going to use it to cut her throat.
She saw Crumb take the knife and feel of the blade, running his thumb along it.She saw him stoop, his eyesturned down upon hers.He grasped her chin and forced it upward and back, the better to expose her throat.
Oh, why could she not faint? Why must she suffer all these hideous preliminaries? Why could she not even close her eyes?
Crumb raised the knife and held the blade close above her bared neck.A shudder ran through her, and then the door crashed open and a man sprang into the room.It was Billy Byrne.Through the window he had seen what was passing in the interior.
His hand fell upon Crumb's collar and jerked him backward from his prey.Dink seized the shotgun and turned it upon the intruder; but he was too close.Billy grasped the barrel of the weapon and threw the muzzle up toward the ceiling as the tramp pulled the trigger.Then he wrenched it from the man's hands, swung it once above his head and crashed the stock down upon Dink's skull.
Dink went down and out for the count--for several counts, in fact.Crumb stumbled to his feet and made a break for the door.In the doorway he ran full into Bridge, winded, but ready.The latter realizing that the matted one was attempting to escape, seized a handful of his tangled beard, and, as he had done upon another occasion, held the tramp's head in rigid position while he planted a series of blows in the fellow's face--blows that left Crumb as completely out of battle as was his mildewed comrade.
"Watch 'em," said Billy, handing Bridge the shotgun.Then he turned his attention to the woman.With the carving knife that was to have ended her life he cut her bonds.Removing the gag from her mouth he lifted her in his strong arms and carried her to the little horsehair sofa that stood in one corner of the parlor, laying her upon it very gently.
