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Updated: August 25, 2024
"You men must have had quite a tussle with that fellow, Moran!" he remarked whimsically. "You seem to have come off the best, Sergeant. You're not marked at all." "Some tussle all right, Sorr!" agreed that worthy evenly, his tongue in his cheek. "Yu' go git yu're prisoner, Ridmond, an' be ready whin that thrain comes in. Come back on the next way-freight west, if there's wan behfure th' passenger.
He'd put th' whole bunch av us out av business in as many shots, behfure a man av us got a chance tu put fut inside. Now, let's see!" he murmured reflectively. "Fwhat is th' lay av th' shack agin? There's " "The door and two of the windows face east," interpolated Yorke, softly "living-room and kitchen one window to the south that's his bed-room."
He turned to his companions with a grim, determined face, his deep-set eyes glittering ominously in the light of the moon. "Lets get things cut-an'-dhried behfure we shtart in," he whispered.
Now th' night behfure last betune say, nine an' twelve o'clock . . . fwhere was ye?" he paused "Think harrd, an' come across wid th' straight goods." A tense silence succeeded. The hobo, the cynosure of a ring of watchful expectant faces, mumbled indistinctly, "I was sleepin' up in th' loft o' th' livery-stable."
"Now, see here; look, me man!" he said slowly and distinctly, a sort of tense eagerness underlying his soft tones, "behfure I shtart in charrgin' ye wid anythin' I'm goin' tu put a few questions tu ye in front av this ginthleman" he indicated the justice "He's a mag'strate, so ye'd best tell th' trute.
And luk here!" he added savagely, pointing to the bare feet, "here's another of Mr. Man's little jokes no boots. If they'd have been lift on they'd have shtuck tighter'n glue in that water. Reddy was 'bout right, Yorkey! Gully, d n him! did frame us that day. Must have used thim himsilf tu make thim thracks wid early in th' mornin' behfure he met up wid us on th' thrail. Oh, blarney my sowl! Yes!
"G d d n!" he spat out to Yorke, from between clenched teeth, "ther' goes another forlorn hope. 'Tis no manner av use worryin' tho' let's go get that jury empannelled!" He uttered a snorting chuckle as a thought seemed to strike him. "H-mm! Gully must be getthin' tindher-hearthed! Th' last vag we had up behfure him he sint um down for sixty days."
He paused "but provin' ut's a diff'runt matther. We must foller this up an' get some shtronger evidence yet behfure we make th' break." Suddenly he uttered a hollow chuckle. "Kilbride!" he ejaculated. "Mind his josh that day 'bout it might be me, or Gully? an how Gully laughed, tu, wid th' hand of um like this?" Napoleonic fashion he thrust his huge fist between the buttons of his stable-jacket.
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