The Just and the Unjust - BestLightNovel.com
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"I tell you, stand up!" cried Gilmore.
Reaching forward he seized Montgomery by the throat with his left hand and jerked him to his feet, then holding him so, he coolly battered his face with his free hand.
"For G.o.d's sake, quit, boss--you're killin' me!" cried Joe, as he vainly sought to protect his face with his arms.
But Mr. Gilmore had a primitive prejudice in favor of brute force, and the cruel blows continued until Montgomery seemed to lose power even to attempt to s.h.i.+eld himself; his great hands hung helpless at his side and his head fell over on his shoulder. Seeing which the gambler released his victim, who, limp and quivering, dropped to the floor.
Still crazed with rage, Gilmore kicked the handy-man into a corner, and turning poured himself still another drink of whisky. If he had spoken then of what was uppermost in his mind, it would have been to complain of the rotten luck which in so ticklish a business had furnished him with fools and sots for a.s.sociates. He should have known better than to have trusted drunken Joe Montgomery; he should have kept out of the whole business--
With the suddenness of revelation he realized his own predicament, but with the realization came the knowledge that he was now hopelessly involved; that he could not go back; that he must go on, or--here he threw back his shoulders as though to cast off his evil forebodings--or between the dusk of one day and the dawn of another, he might disappear from Mount Hope.
With this cheering possibility in mind, he picked up the gla.s.s of whisky beside him and emptied it at a single draught, then he put on his overcoat and hat and went from the room, locking the door behind him.
Presently the wretched heap on the floor stirred and moaned feebly, and then lay still. A little later it moaned again. Lifting his head he stared vacantly about him.
"Boss--" he began in a tone of entreaty, but realizing that he was alone he fell weakly to cursing Gilmore.
It was a good five minutes from the time he recovered consciousness until he was able to a.s.sume a sitting posture, when he rested his battered face in his hands and nursed his bruises.
"And me his cousin!" he muttered, and groaned again.
He feebly wiped his b.l.o.o.d.y hands on the legs of his trousers and by an effort staggered to his feet. His only idea was escape; and steadying himself he managed to reach the door; but the door was locked, and he flung himself down in a convenient chair and once more fell to nursing his wounds.
Fifteen or twenty minutes had pa.s.sed when he heard steps in the hallway.
He knew it was Gilmore returning, but the gambler was not alone; Montgomery heard him speak to his companion as a key was fitted to the lock. The door swung open and Gilmore, followed by Marshall Langham, entered the room.
"Here's the drunken hound, Mars.h.!.+" said the gambler.
"For G.o.d's sake, boss, let me out of this!" cried Montgomery, addressing himself to Langham.
"Yes, we will--like h.e.l.l!" said Gilmore. "By rights we ought to take you down to the creek, knock you in the head and heave you in--eh, Marsh?
That's about the size of what we _ought_ to do!"
Langham's face was white and drawn with apprehension, yet he surveyed the ruin the gambler had wrought with something like pity.
"Why, what's happened to him, Andy?" he asked.
His companion laughed brutally.
"Oh, I punched him up some, I couldn't keep my hands off him, I only wonder I didn't kill him--"
"Let me out of this, boss--" whined the handy-man.
"Shut up, you!" said the gambler roughly.
He drew back his hand, but Langham caught his arm.
"Don't do that, Andy!" he said. "He isn't in any shape to stand much more of that; and what's the use, the harm's done!"
The gambler scowled on his cousin Joe with moody resentment.
"All the same I've got a good notion to finish the job!" he said.
"Let me go home, boss!" entreated Montgomery, still addressing himself to Langham. "G.o.d's sake, he pretty near killed me!"
He stood up on shaking legs.
Wretched, abject, his uneasy glance s.h.i.+fted first from one to the other of his patrons, who were now his judges, and for aught he knew would be his executioners as well. The gambler glared back at him with an expression of set ferocity which told him he need expect no mercy from that source; but with Langham it was different; he at least was not wantonly brutal. The sight of physical suffering always distressed him and Joe's bruised and b.l.o.o.d.y face was more than he could bear to look at.
"For two cents I'd knock him on the head!" jerked out Gilmore.
"Oh, quit, Andy; let him alone! I want to ask him a question or two,"
said Langham.
"You'll never know from him what he said or didn't say--you'll learn that from the judge himself," and Gilmore laughed harshly.
A minute or two pa.s.sed before Langham could trust himself to speak. When he did, he turned to Montgomery to ask:
"I wish you'd tell me as nearly as you can what you said to my father?"
"I didn't go there to tell him anything, boss; he just got it out of me.
What chance has a slob like me with him?"
"Got what out of you?" questioned Langham in a low voice.
"Well, he didn't get much, boss," replied Montgomery, shaking his head.
"But what did you tell him?" insisted Langham.
"I don't remember, boss, I was full, see--and maybe I said too much and then agin maybe I didn't!"
"I hope you like this, Marsh; it's the sort of thing I been up against,"
said Gilmore.
By way of answer Langham made a weary gesture. The horror of the situation was now a thing beyond fear.
"I'm for sending the drunken loafer to the other side of the continent,"
said Gilmore.
"What's the use of that?" asked Langham dully.
"Every use," rejoined Gilmore with fresh confidence. "It's enough, ain't it, that he's talked to your father; we can't take chances on his talking to any one else. There's the west-bound express; I'm for putting him on that--there's time enough. We can give him a couple of hundred dollars and that will be the end of him, for if he ever shows his face here in Mount Hope, I'll break every bone in his body. What do you say?"
"Perhaps you are right!" And Langham glanced uncertainly at the handy-man.
"Well, it's either that, or else I can knock him over the head. Perhaps you had rather do that, it's more in your line."
"Boss, you give me the money and let me go now, and I won't _ever_ come back!" cried Montgomery eagerly. "I been lookin' for the chance to get clear of this b.u.m town! I'll stay away, don't you lose no sleep about that; I ain't got nothin' to ever bring me back."