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Updated: September 15, 2025
Still, by the simple and ancestral process of turning himself around several times, Lad was able to clear enough space on the floor to permit of his lying down; albeit in a very compact bunch. He settled himself into place on the floor with a satisfied jounce which loosened a car-rug draped over the trunk. Down slithered the rug; and fell athwart the dog's shaggy back and one of the bags.
The tramp struck a vicious blow with his knife at the heart of young Vane. The latter sunk bleeding to the ground. "Hello!" A tall, slender young man in hunter's costume peered upon the scene. Perry Jounce walked forward, glanced keenly into the young hunter's face, then said: "I've fixed him, I take it; but don't you peep, or " He did not finish his sentence, but strode swiftly away.
This was the first word he had heard from Silas Keene since he left his home to meet the notorious tramp, Perry Jounce, in Billy Bowleg's saloon. August thought of the first note he had received a warning to be constantly on his guard, and found himself wondering who wrote it. Not the detective, for in this note was a statement that Keene had been stricken down.
Ef't hadn't been fur me Sile Keene wouldn't a went under," uttered the helpless tramp, pleadingly. There was no mercy in the heart of Andrew Barkswell, however. Jounce knew too much and was disposed to be dangerous, so he did not scruple to put him out of the way. "Not a word, scoundrel," growled Barkswell, and with the words he drew a clasp knife from an inner pocket.
"Some folks are one thing, and some are another; but you're in luck, kid. They push a wrecking-car. Now, don't get rattled. Your wheel-base will keep you on the track, and there ain't any curves worth mentionin'. Oh, say! Comanche told me there's one section o' sawedged track that's liable to jounce ye a little.
"He'd resk every stick he hez to carry bad news. Says we're in fer a shift o' wind. He's in fer worse. Abishai! Abi-shai!" He waved his arm up and down with the gesture of a man at the pumps, and pointed forward. The crew mocked him and laughed. "Jounce ye, an' strip ye an' trip ye!" yelled Uncle Abishai. "A livin' gale a livin' gale. Yab! Cast up fer your last trip, all you Gloucester haddocks.
"You do not deny your crime, nor the fact that besides poisoning your wife and murdering Perry Jounce, her brother, you assisted the latter, who had long been your tool, to decoy Silas Keene into a room in the rear of Billy Bowleg's saloon, where, some weeks ago, you committed another crime by hurling the detective into a well." "My soul! This is too much!" gasped the quaking villain.
The tramp had him completely in his power, and it might be that he meditated another murder. "Perry Jounce, listen to me." The young man forced a calmness he did not feel, while speaking to the man before him. "Perceed, Rans, old boy." "Why did you murder an innocent child like my poor Victoria? Surely she had not harmed you."
"I guess if I've lived in a place over sixty year an' hil' my own, I can yet," said Lothrop, quietly. "You don't want to ride too long, Lucindy. You'll be lame to-morrer." "I didn't suppose 'twould jounce so," said Lucindy; "but it's proper nice. I don't know what 'twould be on a real high horse. Well, good-by!" She turned the horse about, and involuntarily struck him with her little switch.
The hunter refused to touch the dirty paw extended toward him. "Won't you shake?" "No. You have made a mistake. I am not Andrew Barkswell." "Not Andrew Barkswell?" "No." "Who then?" "My name is August Bordine." "Lord, is that so?" cried Jounce with a grin. "Didn't you just come from the man I knifed down yonder?" "Certainly, and you'll have that to answer for." "Will he die?" "I expect so."
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