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Updated: May 19, 2025
Braman, arrayed as he had been the night before, had opened the door. He had been just ready to go when he heard Corrigan's knock. "Going out, Croft?" said Corrigan pleasantly, eyeing the other intently. "All lit up, too! You're getting to be a gay dog, lately." There was nothing in Corrigan's bantering words to bring on that sudden qualm of sickening fear that seized the banker.
He knew it was conscience only that. And yet Corrigan's ominous silence continued. And now he caught his breath with a shuddering gasp, for he saw Corrigan's face reflected in the glass, looking over his shoulder a mirthless smirk on it, the eyes cold, and dancing with a merciless and cunning purpose. While he watched, he saw Corrigan's lips open: "Where's the board telephone, Braman?"
Half an hour later, his damaged arm bandaged, and some marks of the battle removed, Trevison was in the banking room. He had forbidden any of his friends to accompany him, but Mullarky and several others stood outside the door and watched him. A bandage around his head, Braman leaned on the counter behind the wire netting, pale, shaking. In a chair at the desk sat Corrigan, glowering at Trevison.
An' the bank? An' killed Braman? Well, you got to admit that's a pretty good night's work. An' you're wantin' him!" Barkwell's voice leaped; he spoke in short, snappy, metallic sentences that betrayed passion long restrained, breaking his self-control. "You're deputies, eh? Corrigan's whelps! Sneaks! Coyotes! Well, you slope you hear? When I count three, I down you! One! Two! Three!"
The woman told the lie courageously, looking straight into his eyes, though she shrank at the fire that came into them as he released her and laughed. "Where did you get your information?" His voice was suddenly sullen and cold. "From Braman." He started, and laughed in humorous derision. "Braman and Corrigan are blood brothers in this deal.
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."
He also robbed the safe in the bank, and killed Braman choked him to death. A most revolting murder. I'm sorry I disturbed you good night." The girl closed the door as he left it, and leaned against it, weak and shaking. Corrigan's voice had a curious note in it. He had told her he was sorry to have disturbed her, but the words had not rung true there had been too much satisfaction in them.
He stepped down into the street and went into the bank. Braman fawned on him, smirking insincerely. Corrigan had not apologized for striking the blow, had never mentioned it, continuing his former attitude toward the banker as though nothing had happened. But Braman had not forgiven him. Corrigan wasted no words: "Who's the best gun-man in this section?" Braman studied a minute.
A queer stupor came upon him, during which he neither felt nor saw. Dimly, he sensed that Corrigan was striking at him; with a sort of vague half-consciousness he felt that the blows were landing. But they did not hurt, and he laughed at Corrigan's futile efforts. The only feeling he had was a blind rage against Braman, for he was certain that it had been the banker who had tripped him.
Nevertheless the "Bramans transfer the sins of the people into one or more Cows, which are then carry'd away, both the Cows and the Sins wherewith these Beasts are charged, to what place the Braman shall appoint."
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