The Rose in the Ring Part 59

But, for the first time since it entered his body, Ernie's soul arose above the sordid flesh. It came as from a great distance and slowly, but it came to take its frightened, subdued stand beside its kin.

"I guess I'll be going," he said, and even as he uttered the words he wondered why he did so. "Ten thousand's a lot of money, but if d.i.c.k thinks it's too dirty for us to touch, why, I'm with him. You can count me out." He put on his hat and started toward the door.

d.i.c.k could hardly believe his ears. "Great Scott, Ernie, you--you--Well, you're just great, kid!"

"Just a minute," said Grand, arising slowly, an ominous glitter in his eyes. He towered above the hunchback, who was near the door. "I don't intend to let you go until you've heard _all_ I have to say."

"Get out of the way, Grand," said the pickpocket, his fingers clenched so tightly that the backs of his hands were white.

"There's only one way to handle swine of your breed," sneered Grand; "and that is with a club. You are a fine, virtuous pair, you are. I've got a job for you to do to-night, and I have the means of compelling you to do it. You must not get it into your heads that I did not prepare myself for either view you might take of the matter. I'm not such an idiot as all that. Now we'll indulge in a little plain talk.

You are a couple of low-down sneak thieves, both of you. Of the--"

"Hold on, Grand!" snapped d.i.c.k. "None of that!"

"Of the two, Ernie is the lower. You miserable, misshapen scoundrel, you are worse than the vilest thief that ever lived. d.i.c.k is an angel compared--" "I'll get you for that!" quavered d.i.c.k, so shaken by rage that he could scarcely hold himself erect.

"No, you won't," squeaked Ernie. "I'll get him! I'll cut his heart out!"

Grand reached out with his left hand and touched a b.u.t.ton in the wall.

In the other hand gleamed a revolver.

"If I press either the b.u.t.ton or the trigger it will mean the end of you, you dogs. Now, listen to me. At the foot of the stairs are two policemen and a couple of detectives. They were duped into coming here by the word that a sucker was to be fleeced in Broadso's rooms to-night. All I have to do is to press the b.u.t.ton and call for help.

This hallway will swarm with waiters and men from all the rooms, and the cops will come on the run. I have nothing to do but to turn you over to them as a couple of thieves who came here to rob me. Trust me to make out a case against you."

"I'm no thief!" shouted Ernie. d.i.c.k was looking about, like a rat in a trap, his teeth showing in the desperation of alarm. "You fellows will come to terms with me inside of two minutes or I'll land you both in the pen so quickly you won't know it's been done. I want this man Braddock put out of the way. I've got two men waiting to go with you, so don't imagine that you can play me false after you leave this room.

It is all cut and dried. You are to carry out a plan I have for landing Braddock. The police will--"

"I'll see you hanged first," grated d.i.c.k Cronk. "You are the king of crooks, you are."

"Don't let him call the police, d.i.c.k," whined Ernie, shrinking back against the wall. "I'm no thief. I won't go to jail! I won't!"

"Well, that's just where you'll land, my handsome bucko," said the malevolent Colonel. "d.i.c.k won't mind it, but it will be a new experience for you, your reverence. 'Gad, you toad!"

"Let me go!" cried Ernie. "Keep d.i.c.k here, but let me out. d.i.c.k will help you, honest he will. I'm no thief. You wouldn't send me to jail!"

"Oh, I wouldn't, eh?" snarled the other. "You'll look fine in stripes, you will. And nothing under the sun can save you if I push this b.u.t.ton. Ten years, that's what it will be. The Cronk brothers! The _sick_ brothers! Why, a jury would give you the full limit. It will please your brother, after all these years, to see you doing time--Here! Drop that, curse you!"

There was a deafening report, a blinding flash and a cloud of smoke.

Then a gurgling groan, the sc.r.a.ping of a heavy body against the wall, and Colonel Grand slid to the floor, his arms and legs writhing in the last tremendous spasm of death.

Neither of the Cronks moved for a full half-minute. They gazed as if stupefied at the b.l.o.o.d.y face of the great gambler; they saw his legs stiffen and his chest swell widely and then collapse.

"Give me the key!" It was a whispered shriek that leaped from the lips of the hunchback. "Good G.o.d, he's dead! They'll hang us!"

He sprang to d.i.c.k's side and s.n.a.t.c.hed the door key from his stiff fingers. As he leaped toward the door, through the powder-smoke, he stumbled over the body of the dead man. He crashed to the floor but was up again in a flash, gasping, groaning with terror. An instant later he was in the hall. Like a cat he sped past the still closed doorways beyond and reached the stairway before a human being appeared in sight.

Half-way down stairs he met men rus.h.i.+ng upward, attracted by the pistol shot. He actually tried to clear their heads in a frantic leap. He was caught in the air, struggling and kicking furiously, to be borne down and held by strong arms. Shrieking with rage and terror, he fought like a wild cat.

"I didn't do it!" he screamed, over and over again, foaming at the mouth. "It wasn't me! It wasn't me! Oh, G.o.d! Oh, G.o.d!"

Some one struck him a violent blow on the mouth. The foam was red from that time on. In the hallway above there were shouts and the sounds of rus.h.i.+ng footsteps. Loud oaths of amazement came ringing down the corridor. A man in his s.h.i.+rt sleeves appeared at the top of the stairs, his face livid with excitement.

"Hang on to him!" he shouted. "Don't let him get away. We've got the other one!"

"What's the matter up there?" grunted one of the two officers holding Ernie, whose feet were now braced against the steps in the effort to keep them from dragging him upward.

"I didn't do it!" he panted between his teeth.

"Search me! See if I have a revolver! I never carry a gun. d.i.c.k always carries one. Let me go! Let me go! Why don't you go and get d.i.c.k?"

"Shut up, you!"

They dragged him to the door of No. 5. He caught sight of his brother standing between two men near the body of Colonel Grand, beside which a coatless man was kneeling. Another man was going through the pockets of the tall, gla.s.sy-eyed prisoner.

From an inner pocket the searcher drew forth a revolver. With nervous fingers he broke the weapon. A cry fell from his lips.

"Here's the gun. One sh.e.l.l empty. Barrel still hot. You low-lived scoundrel!"

d.i.c.k's eyes never left the b.l.o.o.d.y face of the murdered man. He was breathing heavily, as if in pain or extreme terror.

"Is he dead?" he whispered through his bloodless, motionless lips. Just then he looked up and saw Ernie at the doorway, b.l.o.o.d.y-faced, cringing, wide-eyed with dread. Two burly policemen were dangling his ill-favored body almost clear of the floor.

"Dead as a door-nail," said the kneeling man. "Here's his gun with all the chambers full. He didn't have a chance to shoot. Say, this is the worst thing I've ever heard of. You'll swing for this, you dog!"

Ernie sent up a shriek. "Swing for it! I didn't do it! You can't prove anything on me. Can they, d.i.c.k? What are you holding me for? Let go!

I'm an honest, respectable citizen of New York. I'm--"

"Call a wagon," shouted one of the officers to a newcomer. "Nasty job here. We've got the murderer all right." d.i.c.k straightened up at this.

He turned to look at the condemning pistol in the hand of the man who had taken it from his pocket. A great shudder shook his frame.

"You got me all right," he said. "You won't believe it, of course, but he pulled a gun first. I had to shoot. Get me out of this. If you don't I'll kick his face to a jelly. I've always wanted to." He glanced at Ernie, a crooked smile on his lips.

"Well, Ernie, I guess it's going to come true. I always said it would."

CHAPTER IX

IN THE LITTLE TRIANGULAR "SQUARE"

Jenison did not seek the warrant for Grand's arrest. He remained in the Portman house until the middle of the afternoon, vastly exercised by the fainting spell that had come over Christine. The household was considerably upset by the occurrences of the morning; old Mr. Portman was the only person about the place who appeared to be in ignorance of impending peril and disaster. He went out for his drive at two, but was not accompanied by his daughter, a defection which surprised and irritated him not a little.

Christine was herself again in a little while. She stayed in her room, attended by the entertaining Miss Noakes, who struggled manfully, so to speak, in her efforts to shatter the depression that surrounded the young girl like a blank wall.

Downstairs Mary Braddock listened to David's earnest eager plea for an immediate marriage. Now that Braddock had promised to leave at once for the far West, never to return, it seemed to David that all of their problems were solved. She had told him that her husband was to depart by the midnight train, and that it was her intention to go with him to the depot. David begged her to take him along with her, but she was firm in her determination to go alone. Braddock had made it a condition, and she could not break faith with him.

Shortly after the noon hour she drove up town to the bank. On her return she informed David that she had drawn out a sum of money to be delivered to Braddock before the train pulled out. She would not say how much she had drawn, except that it was sufficient to start the man out afresh in the world, and to keep him comfortable for a long time to come, if he should adhere to his decision to eschew drink and cards for the remainder of his life.

"Where is he going, Mrs. Braddock?"