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Page 62
Presently, when all was ready, Slavin took the lines and the coroner
climbed up beside him. The rest of the party followed on foot. A
sombre, strange little procession it looked, as it moved slowly westward
into the dusky blaze of a blood-red sunset. In the hearts of the
policemen grim resolve was not unmixed with certain well-founded
forebodings, as they fully realized what a sinister, dangerous mission
lay ahead of them that night.
CHAPTER XIII
'Twas then--like tiger close beset
At every pass with toil and net,
'Counter'd, where'er he turns his glare,
By clashing arms and torches' flare,
Who meditates, with furious bound,
To burst on hunter, horse, and hound,--
'Twas then that Bertram's soul arose,
Prompting to rush upon his foes.
SCOTT
The old detachment clock struck nine wheezy notes. Yorke and Redmond,
seated at a table busily engaged in cleaning their service revolvers,
glanced up at each other sombrely.
"Getting near time," muttered the former, "the moon should be up soon
now. Lanky," he continued, addressing that individual who was sitting
nearby, "what are you and the Doctor going to do? Going back to Cow Run
tonight, or what?"
"Don't think it," replied the teamster laconically. He glanced towards
the open door and assumed a listening attitude. "Th' Sarjint an' him's
out there now--chewin' th' rag 'bout it--hark to 'em!"
Ceasing their cleaning operations for a space, the two constables
listened intently to the raised voices without. "No! no! no!" came
Slavin's soft brogue, in tones of vehement protest to something the
coroner had said, "I tell yu' 'tis not right, Docthor, that yu' shud run
such risk! Wid us 'tis diff'runt--takin' th' chances av life an'
death--just ord'nary course av juty. . . ."
"Oh, tut! tut! nonsense, Sergeant," was the physician's brisk response.
"You forget. I've taken those same chances before, too, and, by Jove! I
can take 'em again! All things considered," he added significantly,
"seems to me--er--perhaps just as well I should be on hand."
Yorke and Redmond exchanged rueful grins. "The old sport!" quoth the
latter admiringly. "Damme, but I must say the Doc's game!"
"It's the old 'ex-service spirit'," said Yorke quietly, "rum thing!
Always seems to crop out, somehow, when there's real trouble on hand."
Nonchalantly puffing a huge cigar, the object of their remarks presently
strolled back into the room, followed by the sergeant. "Behould th'
'last coort av appeal,' Docthor," began Slavin majestically. With a
whimsical grin he indicated his subordinates. "Bhoys," he explained,
"contrairy tu my wishes, th' Docthor insists on comin' wid us this night.
Now fwhat yez know 'bout that?"
"Tried to shake me!" supplemented that gentleman tersely, waving his
cigar at the last speaker. "What's this court's ruling?"
A stern smile flitted over Yorke's high-bred features. "Appeal
sustained," he announced decisively, "eh, Reddy?"
For answer, his comrade arose and silently wrung the doctor's hand; then,
without show of emotion, he resumed his seat and likewise his cleaning
operations. Yorke, as silently, duplicated his comrade's actions. The
ex-Naval surgeon said nothing; but his eyes glistened strangely as he
dropped into an easy chair and proceeded to envelope himself in a cloud
of smoke,
Suddenly the nasal voice of the teamster, Lanky Jones, made itself heard.
"How 'bout me?" he drawled, "ain't I in on this, too? I kin look after
th' hawsses, anyways, fur yeh!"
"Arrah thin! hark tu um?" said Slavin, in mock despair. "Docthor, 'tis a
bad example ye're setting All right, thin, Lanky, ye shall come, an' ye
wish ut. An' as man tu man--I thank ye! We will all go a 'moonlightin'
tugither. Eyah!" he resumed reminiscently, "many's th' toime I mind me
ould father--God rist him!--tellin' th' tales av thim days, whin times
was harrd in Oireland, an' rints wint up an' th' pore was dhriven
well-nigh desprit. How him an' his blood-cousin, Tim Moriarty, lay wan
night for an' ould rapparee av a landlord, who'd evicted pore Tim out av
house an' home. Tim had an' ould blundherbuss, all loaded up wid bits av
nales an' screws an' such-like, wid a terribul big charrge av powther
behint ut. Four solid hours did they wait for um--forninst a hedge on
th' road he had tu come home by, from Ballymeen Fair.
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