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Updated: May 9, 2025
Brassy's pistol fired a second shot as he fell, but it was from the death clutch upon the trigger, and the bullet went over the heads of the crowd, while instantly was heard the doctor's quiet tones: "Come, men, who volunteers as courier to Faraway?" A young man stepped promptly forward and answered: "I was a soldier at Faraway, sir, and know the trail. I will go."
Ah! but she was ashamed, most bitterly ashamed! The rest of the interview came to her only dimly. She knew that Uncle Mathew was still upon his feet protesting, that her aunt's face was cold and wore a look of distressed surprise as though some one had suddenly been rude to her. From very, very far away came Mr. Brassy's voice: "I was aware that this could not be agreeable, Miss Cardinal.
It was not a second after the shot of Brassy's before the doctor's weapon rang out.
Her aunt looked about her as though she had just awaked from sleep. "Would you care to come up to your room?" asked Maggie, feeling the embarrassment of Mr. Brassy's presence. "Yes, dear, thank you I will," said Miss Cardinal.
At the little inn of the village some of the magnates of the Ring were to assemble on the morning of the fight for an early breakfast, to which Charley and I had the good fortune to be invited by Jack Brassy's second, Peter Crawley, another noted pugilist of his day.
The words fell pat from the lips of the doctor, and there was no misunderstanding them, and Brassy did not, for with a yell he shouted: "Yer shall eat them insultin' words, Doctor Dick!" and quick as action could be, he had drawn his revolver and fired. The crowd had fallen back from about each man at Brassy's cry, and yet one man caught the bullet intended for the doctor in his shoulder.
"By all means, and I'll give my friends a hint to be ready if Brassy's pards go to showing an ugly mood, while you will go prepared, Doc?" "I always am," was the laconic response. "Now, how's yer sick man?" "He will recover bodily, but never mentally I fear." "I'm sorry," and Landlord Larry went to prepare for the burial.
Doctor Dick looked calmly on, and perhaps it was his stern, fearless mien that stayed the trouble that several of Brassy's pards seemed to have decided upon there in the sacred resting-place of the dead, perhaps the belief that they would be quickly sent to join their comrade, for they created no disturbance, only with a significant glance at the gold-king gambler turned and walked away with the bearing of men who would bide their time to avenge.
"You are the very man, Harding; come with Wall to my cabin. Good night, gentlemen, and remember, I pay the expenses of Brassy's funeral, so do not be mean in his burial outfit." With this Doctor Dick raised his sombrero and left the saloon, his admirers being still more impressed with his nerve and bearing after what had occurred.
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