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Updated: May 22, 2025
But I've lost my boy, Hal." "Too bad, Jim. I knew Hal; at a distance, of course." "And Pierre is filling Hal's place in the family." "Is that your answer?" "McGurk, are you going to pin me down in this?" And here Jack whirled and cried: "Dad, you won't let Pierre go!" "You see?" pleaded Boone.
"Here!" he called in answer, and stood with his right hand lifted, bringing his horse to a sharp halt, like some ancient cavalier stopping in the middle of the battle to exchange greetings with a friendly foe. The other rider whirled alongside, his sombrero's brim flaring back from his forehead, so that McGurk caught the glare of the eyes beneath the shadow.
"But all Mary ever saw of him was that second night when she thought that she saw a streak of white, traveling like a galloping horse, that disappeared over a hill and into the trees " "A streak of white " "Yes, yes! The white horse McGurk!" "McGurk!" repeated Pierre stupidly; then: "And you knew she would be going out to him when she left this house?"
He sat down again, and seemed a little anxious to explain his unusual conduct. "Ma'am, suppose you had a well plumb full of nitroglycerin in your back yard; suppose there was a forest fire comin' your way from all sides; would you like to have people talk about nitroglycerin and that forest fire meeting? Even the talk would give you chills. That's the way it is with Pierre and McGurk.
"So for the third time, my friend " said McGurk. "Which is the fatal one," answered Pierre. "How will you die, McGurk? On foot or on horseback?" "On the ground, Pierre, for my horse might stir and make my work messy. I love a neat job, you know." "Good." They swung from the saddles and stood facing each other. "Begin!" commanded McGurk. "I've no time to waste."
"See to it that ye do!" commented his visitor meaningly. Therefore, though no one had seen him commit the crime, word was passed along the line to pick up Shane O'Connell for the murder of Red McGurk. It mattered not there was no evidence except the report of a muttered threat or two and the lie passed openly the week before.
Boone moistened his white lips and answered: "Never," huskily, as if it were a great muscular effort for him to speak. "This time I have to break the custom. Boone, this fellow Pierre has to leave the country. Will you see that he goes?" The lips of Boone moved and made no sound. He said at length: "McGurk, I'd rather cross the devil than cross you. There's no shame in admitting that.
He made another desperate effort, and twisting himself onto one elbow pointed a rigid arm at Pierre. He gasped: "McGurk God!" and dropped. He was dead before his head touched the blanket. It was Jacqueline who closed the staring eyes, for the two men were frozen where they stood. They had heard the story of Patterson and Branch and Mansie in one word from the lips of the dying man.
"Why should I use it against a night rider, McGurk? Are you ready?" And McGurk, not trusting his voice for some strange reason, nodded. The two folded their arms. But the white horse which had been pawing the stones so eagerly a moment before was now unusually quiet.
The only reason why this everyday Bowery occurrence excited any particular attention was not that Shane was an O'Connell but that McGurk was the son of a political boss of much influence and himself one of the leaders of a notorious cohort of young ruffians who when necessary could be relied upon to stuff a ballot box or otherwise to influence public opinion.
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