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It wouldn't be his way to see another feller snatch his dame without a mighty hard kick. It's Shaunbaum sure." He bestirred himself. All his old energy seemed to spring suddenly into renewed life. Again came that forceful gesture of the fist which Bill watched with so much interest, and the binding of the ledger creaked under its force. "By God!
Neither Kars nor Bill Brudenell had heard of any contemplated change in his plans. They had not heard from him at all. Nor was this a matter for their great concern. Their concern was Pap Shaunbaum and the passing of the days of waiting while their outfit was being prepared at the camp ten miles distant from the city, for their invasion of Bell River.
I hope they get him and hang him by his rotten vulture neck! He's run his vile play too long. He's a disease a deadly, stinking, foul disease. Maybe it was a 'gunman' did the shooting. But I'd bet my life it was Shaunbaum behind him. And to think these poor lone women-folk, hundreds of miles away from him, should be the victims. See here, Kars, I'm no sort of full-fledged angel.
It was a rough rock-bound beach upon which the waters of life beat themselves into a fury of excess. Its lights were the beacons of the wreckers set up for the destruction of the human soul. Chief amongst the wreckers was Pap Shaunbaum, a Hebrew of doubtful nationality, and without scruple. He prided himself that he was a caterer for the needs of the people.
He gets all tied up with the woman belonging to Shaunbaum. And Shaunbaum figgers to kill him. Murray needs that. It'll save him acting that way himself. But he's taking no chances. He watches all the while. He locates everything, every move Shaunbaum makes. How I can't guess, but it's easy to a feller like Murray. Well, the gunmen get around. Maybe you'll say this is just a guess.
Perhaps "Chesapeake" Maude understood her risks in a city of lawlessness, and in flinging aside the protection of such a man as Pap Shaunbaum. Perhaps she did not. But those who looked on, and they were a whole people of a city, waited breathless and pulsating for the ensuing acts of what they regarded as a human comedy.
You see, it was the outcome of a brawl. There's no one to arrest yet." "Who did shoot him up? The other 'gunman'? Josh spoke of two. Can't he be got? He could give Shaunbaum away maybe." "That's so. Guess that's most how it stands. Maybe it was the other 'gunman." Murray's satisfaction was obvious. He nodded. "Sure. It's Shaunbaum's play. There's no question. Everybody got it ahead.
Bill once said of him, "One of hell's gentle-folk." A better description of him could not have been found. Under a well-nigh perfect exterior he concealed a depth of infamy beyond description. A confidential police report to the authorities in the East once contained this paragraph: "Pap Shaunbaum has set up a big hotel in Leaping Horse.
I don't guess any feller can gamble on a woman till she's in love, then I'd say the gamble is she'll act foolish." Kars had no comment to offer. He was no longer watching Maude. The dancing had ceased, and the floor had cleared. The orchestra had already commenced the prelude to a vaudeville turn, and the drop curtain had revealed the stage. His interest was centred on Pap Shaunbaum.
A hundred witnesses placed themselves at the disposal of the Mounted Police, and at least seventy-five per cent of them were more than willing to incriminate Pap Shaunbaum if opportunity served. Nor was John Kars idle during that time. His attorneys saw a good deal of him, and, as a result, a campaign to track down the instigator of this shooting was inaugurated.
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