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Updated: June 24, 2025
Before the marshal's confederate could interfere, Alan, tightly as he was bound, had flung himself on top of Jellup and with all the power he could throw into the act had butted his head into the marshal's face. Am oath and a cry of pain indicated how true the stroke had been. Both Ned and the companion of Jellup sprang forward at the same time and the four fell in a silent distorted heap.
And as for walking I'd walk from here to Kansas City or crawl before I'd lie down on my shop like that." "Come on, kid, get busy," exclaimed Jellup again. "An' when ye start, don't bother about lingerin', because I'll be hangin' around and I'm good with this at some distance." As he spoke he drew a Colt 44 and tapped it. "Never fear, Mr. Jellup," laughed Bob.
Leaving Alan to watch over the unconscious Jellup and the frozen gold, Ned dressed himself, and in spite of the rain hastened out in the just perceptible dawn to carry out a plan he and Alan had agreed upon. An hour later, with the assistance of Mayor Bradley, the marshal, now somewhat easier, was placed in a bed in his own home.
For Ned's new leather money belt, containing six hundred dollars in gold was stretched out conspicuously and at full length on top of one of the two rows of glass bulbs in the case. "Lyin', as I thought," exclaimed Jellup. "Gimme' the light, Domingo." And the chuckle that followed almost instantly was indication enough that he had discovered the boys' small fortune. "Dangerous, eh!" he laughed.
Unless the silent Mexican told it no soul in all Clarkeville other than Mayor Bradley and the air ship boys knew why Jellup was absent from his haunts and his post of duty that day. Nor did many of them ever know, when Jellup reappeared on the streets after weeks of suffering, how he had been injured. They only knew that his right arm was gone and that he was no longer marshal.
"Jist as a sample!" roared the angered Jellup. "The next one'll be higher up." And his trembling finger pointed down the hot sandy track. There was nothing more to be done. The pale-faced but nervy reporter turned toward the east and started slowly down the track. Ned ran forward. "Russell!" he shouted, "Russell!"
He saw Jellup examine each key, guess the right one at once and then insert it in the lock. Yet, despite his assumed bravado, it was apparent that the man had considerable apprehension. For, before he turned the lock, he motioned to Domingo to retire further with the candle.
It read: ROBERT RUSSELL KANSAS CITY COMET "Ye'r a purty fresh kid," sneered Jellup. "At your service, Mr. Officer." Jellup had already received an explanation of the whole affair and was aching to exercise his authority. "Ye'r an impostor," he began, "and ef ye hadn't been caught, ye'd have taken money on false pretenses. I was onto ye."
Ned noticed with satisfaction that the lid was properly locked. Jellup noticed it too. Without a word, he turned and easily found Ned's keys. Again he approached the crate, looking over the keys. "Jellup," exclaimed Ned in alarm, "there's gas in that box, and if you go near it with a light you'll blow us all up." "Gas, eh?" answered the eager Jellup. "Don't run no sich bluffs on me."
The possible serious results that might come to him and his plans meant nothing in his anger at such a dastardly act. "It isn't a Colt," he said with dry lips, "but, if you make another move like that it's got ten shots and they come out all together." Jack Jellup, marshal and "bad man," was never more surprised in his life.
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