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But thoughts of Corrigan's wrath finally conquered. "It it isn't in the safe," he said. And then, aware of his error because of the shrill breath the other drew, he added, quaveringly: "There is no the original record is in my desk you've seen it." "Bah!" The big shape backed away two or three feet, whispering back at the Judge. "Open your mouth and you're a dead man. I've got you covered!"
He saw Trevison standing at one of the grated windows of the wire netting, talking with Braman. Corrigan had taken several steps into the room before Trevison heard him, and then Trevison turned, to find himself looking into the gaping muzzle of Corrigan's pistol. "You didn't run," said the latter. "Thought it was all over, I suppose. Well, it isn't."
I wrote a letter to the cardinal-secretary, enclosing Archbishop Corrigan's letter, and stated my anxiety to meet His Holiness and the limited time I had. A few hours afterwards I received a letter from the cardinal stating that the Holy Father appreciated the circumstances, and would be very glad to welcome me in private audience at eleven o'clock the next morning.
We know Monsieur Carlton well," replied the pretty little wife in response to Corrigan's inquiries. "He is charming. Such a gentleman and so kind to the children! But he is away just now. In fact, we have heard nothing from him for several days and were becoming a trifle worried by his silence. I hope no ill has befallen him."
If you're in charge, it's up to you to smooth things out. Though from the looks av your mug 'Firebrand's' been maulin' you some, too!" Corrigan's answer was a cold glare. "You quit without a fight, eh?" he taunted; "you let one man bluff half a hundred of you!" Carson's eyes brightened. "My recollection is that 'Firebrand' is still holdin' the forrt.
You see, competition is keener in the East, and it rather sharpens one's wits, I presume." "H'm. I reckon you're right. This railroad has brought some mighty slick ones here. Mighty slick an' gally." He looked at her truculently. "Corrigan's one of the slick ones. Friend of yours, eh?" "Clay!" remonstrated his wife, sharply. He turned on her roughly. "You keep out of this!
Though Tony remained a stranger to the beauties of this imagery, he gathered from it the conviction that it was sufficiently anti-Corrigan in its tendency. So, with the confidence of a fellow-conspirator, he sat by Burney upon the stone and unfolded his plot. It was very simple in design. Every day after dinner it was Corrigan's habit to sleep for an hour in his bunk.
He had noted that the black horse was still standing in front of the bank building, and that the group of men had dispersed. The street was deserted. Corrigan's movements became quick and sinister. He drew a heavy revolver out of a hip pocket, shoved its butt partly up his sleeve and concealed the cylinder and barrel in the palm of his hand. Then he stepped into the door of the bank.
"Trevison wasn't there. Miss Benham went to the Diamond K." His eyes gleamed as Corrigan's hands clenched. "Trevison rode back to the car with her which she had ordered taken to the cut," went on the banker. "And this morning about ten o'clock Trevison came here with a led horse. He and Miss Benham rode away together.
Then he saw the broom on the floor and the crevice in the doorway. He got to his feet some way, Corrigan hanging to him, raining blows upon him, and he laughed aloud as, his vision clearing a little, he saw Corrigan's mouth, weak, open, drooling blood, and remembered that when Braman had tripped him Corrigan had hardly been in shape to do much effective hitting.
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