I replied that I had my regular business, that I preferred he should get some one else, and pretty generally made Mr.Stagers aware that I had had enough of him.I did not ask him to sit down, and, just as I supposed him about to leave, he seated himself with a grin, remarking, ``No use, doc; got to go into it this one time.''
At this I, naturally enough, grew angry and used several rather violent phrases.
``No use, doc,'' said Stagers.
Then I softened down, and laughed a little, and treated the thing as a joke, whatever it was, for I dreaded to hear.
But Stagers was fate.Stagers was inevitable.``Won't do, doc--not even money wouldn't get you off.''
``No?'' said I, interrogatively, and as coolly as I could, contriving at the same time to move toward the window.It was summer, the sashes were up, the shutters half drawn in, and a policeman whom I knew was lounging opposite, as I had noticed when I entered.
I would give Stagers a scare, charge him with theft--anything but get mixed up with his kind again.It was the folly of a moment and I should have paid dear for it.
He must have understood me, the scoundrel, for in an instant I felt a cold ring of steel against my ear, and a tiger clutch on my cravat.``Sit down,'' he said.``What a fool you are! Guess you forgot that there coroner's business and the rest.'' Needless to say that I obeyed.``Best not try that again,''
continued my guest.``Wait a moment'';
and rising, he closed the window.
There was no resource left but to listen;and what followed I shall condense rather than relate it in the language employed by Mr.Stagers.
It appeared that my other acquaintance Mr.File had been guilty of a cold-blooded and long-premeditated murder, for which he had been tried and convicted.He now lay in jail awaiting his execution, which was to take place at Carsonville, Ohio.It seemed that with Stagers and others he had formed a band of expert counterfeiters in the West.
Their business lay in the manufacture of South American currencies.File had thus acquired a fortune so considerable that I was amazed at his having allowed his passion to seduce him into unprofitable crime.In his agony he unfortunately thought of me, and had bribed Stagers largely in order that he might be induced to find me.When the narration had reached this stage, and I had been made fully to understand that I was now and hereafter under the sharp eye of Stagers and his friends, that, in a word, escape was out of the question, I turned on my tormentor.
``What does all this mean?'' I said.
``What does File expect me to do?''
``Don't believe he exactly knows,'' said Stagers.``Something or other to get him clear of hemp.''
``But what stuff!'' I replied.``How can Ihelp him? What possible influence could I exert?''
``Can't say,'' answered Stagers, imperturbably.
``File has a notion you're 'most cunning enough for anything.Best try something, doc.''
``And what if I won't do it?'' said I.
``What does it matter to me if the rascal swings or no?''
``Keep cool, doc,'' returned Stagers.``I'm only agent in this here business.My principal, that's File, he says: `Tell Sanderaft to find some way to get me clear.Once out, I give him ten thousand dollars.If he don't turn up something that will suit, I'll blow about that coroner business and Lou Wilson, and break him up generally.' ''
``You don't mean,'' said I, in a cold sweat --``you don't mean that, if I can't do this impossible thing, he will inform on me?''
``Just so,'' returned Stagers.``Got a cigar, doc?''
I only half heard him.What a frightful position! I had been leading a happy and an increasingly profitable life--no scrapes and no dangers; and here, on a sudden, I had presented to me the alternative of saving a wretch from the gallows or of spending unlimited years in a State penitentiary.As for the money, it became as dead leaves for this once only in my life.My brain seemed to be spinning round.I grew weak all over.
``Cheer up a little,'' said Stagers.``Take a nip of whisky.Things ain't at the worst, by a good bit.You just get ready, and we'll start by the morning train.Guess you'll try out something smart enough as we travel along.Ain't got a heap of time to lose.''
I was silent.A great anguish had me in its grip.I might squirm as I would, it was all in vain.Hideous plans rose to my mind, born of this agony of terror.I might murder Stagers, but what good would that do?
As to File, he was safe from my hand.At last I became too confused to think any longer.``When do we leave?'' I said feebly.
``At six to-morrow,'' he returned.
How I was watched and guarded, and how hurried over a thousand miles of rail to my fate, little concerns us now.I find it dreadful to recall it to memory.Above all, an aching eagerness for revenge upon the man who had caused me these sufferings was uppermost in my mind.Could I not fool the wretch and save myself? Of a sudden an idea came into my consciousness.Then it grew and formed itself, became possible, probable, seemed to me sure.``Ah,'' said I, ``Stagers, give me something to eat and drink.'' I had not tasted food for two days.
Within a day or two after my arrival, I
was enabled to see File in his cell, on the plea of being a clergyman from his native place.
I found that I had not miscalculated my danger.The man did not appear to have the least idea as to how I was to help him.He only knew that I was in his power, and he used his control to insure that something more potent than friendship should be enlisted in his behalf.As the days went by, his behavior grew to be a frightful thing to witness.He threatened, flattered, implored, offered to double the sum he had promised if I would save him.My really reasonable first thought was to see the governor of the State, and, as Stagers's former physician, make oath to his having had many attacks of epilepsy followed by brief periods of homicidal mania.He had, in fact, had fits of alcoholic epilepsy.Unluckily, the governor was in a distant city.The time was short, and the case against my man too clear.Stagers said it would not do.I was at my wit's end.
