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Updated: June 28, 2025
We were bending over Lewison; for now, the wig removed, Lewison it proved unmistakably to be, despite the puffy and pallid face. "He said 'the golden pomegranates," I replied, and laughed harshly. "They were words of delirium and cannot possibly have any bearing upon the manner of his death." "I disagree." He strode out into the sitting-room.
Evidently the yegg was silently communicating imperious instructions, for presently the dealer said, in a voice natural enough: "Nothing happened, Lewison. I just moved my chair; that was all, I figure." "I dunno," growled Lewison. "I been waiting for something to happen for so long that I begin to hear things and suspect things where they ain't nothing at all."
It was done a leap and a puff of breath, and then Terry had joined the huddled group of men at the farther end of the room. "Hey!" called Lewison. "What's happened to the light? What the hell " His voice boomed out loudly at them as he thrust his head through the window into the darkness. He caught sight of the red, flickering end of the fuse.
It was Pat who weakened, shuddering. "Stowed in canvas sacks, boys. And some paper money." The news of the greenbacks was welcome, for a large sum of gold would be an elephant's burden to them in their flight. "Wait," Terry directed Denver. The latter kneeled by his fuse until Lewison passed far down the end of his beat. Terry stepped to the door and dropped the bolt. "Now!" he commanded.
But the guard had seen nothing and, turning again at the end of his beat, went back in the opposite direction, a tall, gaunt man so much Terry could make out even in the dark, and his heel fell with the heaviness of age. Perhaps this was Lewison himself. The moment he was turned, Terry peered around the corner at the front of the building.
Kate Pollard rose anxiously with a suggestion. Today or tomorrow at the latest she expected the arrival of Elizabeth Cornish, and so far it had been easy to keep Terry at the house. The gang was gorged with the loot of the Lewison robbery, and Terry's appetite for excitement had been cloyed by that event also. This strange challenge from the older Larrimer was the fly in the ointment.
Not till he has 'em bring out a truck from town and he ships the safe and everything in it to the bank. You see, he sold out his own place and he's going to another that he bought down the river. Well, boys, here's the dodge. That safe of his is in the bank tonight, guarded by old Lewison himself and two gunmen he's hired for the job.
He felt a qualm of pity for Lewison but, after all, the man was a wolf, selfish, accumulating money to no purpose, useless to the world. He shrugged the thought of Lewison away. It was close to sunrise when they reached the house, and having put up the horses, staggered in and called to Johnny to bring them coffee; he was already rattling at the kitchen stove.
Joe himself was financed by Elizabeth Cornish and opened a small string of small-town hotels. "Which is just another angle of the road business," he often said, "except that the law works with you and not agin you." But he never quite recovered from the restoration of the Lewison money on which Elizabeth and Terry both insisted. Neither did Denver Pete.
I had not removed the wig worn by the dead man, but I knew that he had fair hair, and when in his last moments he had opened his eyes, there had been in the contorted face something faintly familiar. "Smith!" I cried excitedly, "it is Lewison, Meyerstein's clerk! Don't you understand? don't you understand?" Smith brought his teeth together with a snap and stared me hard in the face.
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