CHAPTER XXXIII

Bill Briggs Tells a Tale

Tinkletown fairly bubbled with excitement. At last the eyes of the world

were upon it. News of the great sensation was flashed to the end of the

earth; every detail was gone into with harrowing minuteness. The

Hemisphere Company announced by telegraph that it stood ready to hand

over the ten thousand dollars; and the sheriff of Bramble County with

all the United States deputy marshals within reach raced at once to

Tinkletown to stick a finger in the pie.

The morning after the "great pavilion robbery," as it was called in the

_Banner_, Anderson Crow and Bonner fared forth early to have a look at

the injured desperadoes, all of whom were safely under guard at the

reincarnated calaboose. Fifty armed men had stood guard all night long,

notwithstanding the fact that one robber was dead and the others so

badly injured that they were not expected to survive the day.

A horseman passed the marshal and his friend near the post-office,

riding rapidly to the north. He waved his crop pleasantly to them and

Bonner responded. Anderson stopped stock still and tried to speak, but

did not succeed for a full minute; he was dumb with excitement.

"That's him!" he managed to gasp. "The feller I saw the other day--the

man on horseback!"

"That?" cried Bonner, laughing heartily. "Why, that is John E. Barnes,

the lawyer and probably a United States Senator some day. Good heavens,

Mr. Crow, you've made a bad guess of it this time! He is staying with

Judge Brewster, his father-in-law."

"What! Well, by Geminy! I thought I knowed him," cried Anderson. "They

cain't fool me long, Wick--none of 'em. He's the same feller 'at run

away with Judge Brewster's daughter more'n twenty year ago. 'y Gosh, I

was standin' right on this very spot the first time I ever see him. He

sold me a hoss and buggy--but I got the money back. I arrested him the

same day."

"Arrested John Barnes?" in amazement.

"Yep--fer murder--only he wasn't the murderer. We follered him down the

river--him an' the girl--to Bracken's place, but they were married afore

we got there. Doggone, that was a busy day! Some blamed good detective

work was did, too. I--"

"And Mr. Barnes was interested in Rosalie?" asked Bonner suddenly. "How

could he have known anything about her?"

"That's what puzzles me. She came here about two years after the

elopement more er less, but I don't remember ever seein' him after that

time."

"It's very strange, Mr. Crow," reflected Bonner soberly. "He has a son,

I know. His wife died a year or so after the boy's birth. Young Barnes

is about twenty-one, I think at this time. By George! I've heard it said

that Barnes and his wife were not hitting it off very well. They say she

died of a broken heart. I've heard mother speak of it often. I

wonder--great heavens, it isn't possible that Rosalie can be

connected in any way with John Barnes? Anderson Crow, I--I wonder if

there is a possibility?" Bonner was quivering with excitement,

wonder--and--unbelief.

"I'm workin' on that clew," said Anderson as calmly as his tremors would

permit. He was thrilled by the mere suggestion, but it was second nature

for him to act as if every discovery were his own. "Ever sence I saw him

on the road up there, I've been trackin' him. I tell you, Wick, he's my

man. I've got it almost worked out. Just as soon as these blamed robbers

are moved to Boggs City, er buried, I'm goin' over an' git the truth out

of Mr. Barnes. I've been huntin' him fer twenty-one years." Anderson, of

course, was forgetting that Barnes had slipped from his mind completely

until Bonner nudged his memory into life.

"It's a delicate matter, Mr. Crow. We must go about it carefully," said

Bonner severely. "If Mr. Barnes is really interested in her, we can't

find it out by blundering; if he is not interested, we can't afford to

drag him into it. It will require tact--"

"Thunderation, don't you suppose I know that?" exploded Anderson.

"Detectives are allers tackin'. They got to, y' see, ef they're goin' to

foller half a dozen clews at oncet. Gee whiz, Wick, leave this thing to

me! I'll git at the bottom of it inside o' no time."

"Wait a few days, Mr. Crow," argued Bonner, playing for time. "Don't

hurry. We've got all we can do now to take care of the fellows you and

that young actor captured last night." The young man's plan was to keep

Anderson off the trail entirely and give the seemingly impossible clew

into the possession of the New York bureau.

"I don't know what I'd 'a' done ef it hadn't been fer that young

feller," said the marshal. "He was right smart help to me last night."

Bonner, who knew the true story, suppressed a smile and loved the old

man none the less for his mild deception.

They entered the "calaboose," which now had all the looks and odours of

a hospital. A half-dozen doctors had made the four injured men as

comfortable as possible. They were stretched on mattresses in the jail

dining-room, guarded by a curious horde of citizens.

"That's Gregory!" whispered Anderson, as they neared the suffering

group. He pointed to the most distant cot. "That's jest the way he swore

last night. He must 'a' shaved in the automobile last night," though

Gregory had merely discarded the false whiskers he had worn for days.

"Wait!" exclaimed Bonner, stopping short beside the first cot. He

stooped and peered intently into the face of the wounded bandit. "By

George!"

"What's up?"

"As I live, Mr. Crow, this fellow was one of the gang that abducted

Rosalie Gray last winter. I can swear to it. Don't you remember the one

she tried to intercede for? Briggs! That's it! Briggs!"

The injured man slowly opened his eyes as the name was half shouted. A

sickly grin spread slowly over his pain-racked face.

"She tried to intercede fer me, did she?" he murmured weakly. "She said

she would. She was square."

"You were half decent to her," said Bonner. "How do you happen to be

with this gang? Another kidnaping scheme afloat?"

"No--not that I know of. Ain't you the guy that fixed us? Say, on the

dead, I was goin' to do the right thing by her that night. I was duckin'

the gang when you slugged me. Honest, mister, I was goin' to put her

friends next. Say, I don't know how bad I'm hurt, but if I ever git to

trial, do what you can fer me, boss. On the dead, I was her friend."

Bonner saw pity in Anderson's face and rudely dragged him away, although

Bill's plea was not addressed to the old marshal.

"Wait for me out here, Mr. Crow," said he when they reached the office.

"You are overcome. I'll talk to him." He returned at once to the injured

man's cot.

"Look here, Briggs, I'll do what I can for you, but I'm afraid it won't

help much. What do the doctors say?"

"If they ain't lyin', I'll be up an' about in a few weeks. Shoulder and

some ribs cracked and my legs stove up. I can't move. God, that was an

awful tumble!" He shuddered in memory of the auto's leap.

"Is Sam or Davy in this gang?"

"No; Davy's at Blackwell's Island, an' Sam told me he was goin' to

Canada fer his health. Jim Courtney is the leader of this gang. He

sailed under the name of Gregory. That's him swearin' at the rubes."

"The thing for you to do is to make a clean breast of it, Briggs. It

will go easier with you."

"Turn State's evidence? What good will that do when we was all caught

with the goods?"

"If you will tell us all of the inside facts concerning the abduction

I'll guarantee that something can be done to lighten your sentence. I am

Congressman Bonner's nephew."

"So? I thought you was the swellest hold-up man I ever met, that night

out in the woods. You'd do credit to Sam Welch himself. I'll tell you

all I know, pardner, but it ain't a great deal. It won't do me any good

to keep my mouth shut now, an', if you say so, it may help me to squeal.

But, fer the Lord's sake, have one of these rotten doctors give me

something to make me sleep. Don't they know what morphine is for?"

Growling and cursing at the doctors, Bill was moved into the office.

Anderson came in from the dining-room at that juncture, visibly excited.

"I've got a confession from Gregory," he said. "He confesses that he

oughter be hung."

"What!"

"That's what he said--'y ginger. Here's his very words, plain as day: 'I

oughter be hung half a dozen times.' 'What fer?' says I. 'Fer bein' sech

a damned ass,' said he. 'But that ain't a hangable offence,' said I.

You know, I kinder like Gregory, spite of all. 'It's the worst crime in

the world,' said he. 'Then you confess you've committed it?' said I,

anxious to pin him right down to it, y' see.' 'ou bet I do. Ef they hang

me it'll be because I'm a drivelling idiot, an' not because I've shot

one er two in my time. Nobody but an ass could be caught at it, an'

that's why I feel so infernal guilty. Look here, Mr. Crow, ever' time

you see a feller that's proved himself a downright ass, jest take him

out an' lynch him. He deserves it, that's all I've got to say. The

greatest crime in the world is criminal neglect.' Don't bother me now,

Wick; I'm going to write that down an' have him sign it."

"Look here, pard," said Bill Briggs, laboriously breaking in upon their

conversation; "I want to do the right thing by you an' her as fer as I

can. You've been good to me, an' I won't fergit it. Besides, you said

you'd make things easy fer me if I told you what I knowed about that job

last winter. Well, I'd better tell it now, 'cause I'm liable to pass in

my checks before these doctors git through with me. An' besides, they'll

be haulin' me off to the county seat in a day or two. Now, this is dead

straight, I'm goin' to give you. Maybe it won't help you none, but 'll

give you a lead."

"Go on," cried Bonner breathlessly.

"Well, Sam Welch come to me in Branigan's place one night--that's in

Fourt' Avenue--an' says he's got a big job on. We went over to Davy

Wolfe's house an' found him an' his mother--the old fairy, you remember.

Well, to make it short, Sam said it was a kidnaping job an' the Wolfes

was to be in on it because they used to live in this neighbourhood an'

done a lot of work here way back in the seventies. There was to be five

thousand dollars in the job if we got that girl safe on board a ship

bound fer Europe. Sam told us that the guy what engineered the game was

a swell party an' a big boy in politics, finance, society an' ever'thin'

else. He could afford to pay, but he didn't want to be seen in the job.

Nobody but Sam ever seen his face. Sam used to be in politics some. Jest

before we left New York to come up here, the swell guy comes around to

Davy's with another guy fer final orders. See? It was as cold as h----

as the dickens--an' the two of 'em was all muffled up so's we couldn't

get a pipe at their mugs. One of 'em was old--over fifty, I guess--an'

the other was a young chap. I'm sure of that.

"They said that one or the other of 'em would be in this neighbourhood

when the job was pulled off; that one thousand dollars would be paid

down when we started; another thousand when we got 'er into the cave;

and the rest when we had 'er at the dock in New York--alive an' unhurt.

See? We was given to understand that she was to travel all the rest of

'er life fer 'er health. I remember one thing plain: The old man said to

the young 'un: 'She must not know a thing of this, or it will ruin

everything.' He wasn't referrin' to the girl either. There was another

woman in the case. They seemed mighty anxious to pull the job off

without this woman gettin' next.

"Well, we got ready to start, and the two parties coughed up the

thousand plunks--that is, the young 'un handed it over to Sam when the

old 'un told him to. Sam took three hundred and the rest of us two

hundred a piece. When they were lookin' from the winder to see that

nobody on the streets was watchin' the house, I asked Sam if he knowed

either of them by name. He swore he didn't, but I think he lied. But

jest before they left the house, I happened to look inside of the old

boy's hat--he had a stiff dicer. There was a big gilt letter in the top

of it."

"What was that letter?" demanded Bonner eagerly.

"It was a B."

Bonner looked at Anderson as if the floor were being drawn from under

his feet.

"The young chap said somethin' low to the old 'un about takin' the night

train back to the University an' comin' down again Saturday."

"To the University? Which one? Did he mention the name?" cried Bonner.

"No. That's all he said."

"Good heavens, if it should be!" said Bonner as if to himself.

"Well, we come up here an' done the job. You know about that, I guess.

Sam saw the young feller one night up at Boggs City, an' got

instructions from him. He was to help us git 'er away from here in an

automobile, an' the old man was to go across the ocean with 'er. That's

all I know. It didn't turn out their way that time, but Sam says it's

bound to happen."

Bonner, all eagerness and excitement, quickly looked around for

Anderson, but the marshal had surreptitiously left the room. Then,

going over to the door, he called for Anderson Crow. Bud Long was there.

"Anderson left five minutes ago, Mr. Bonner, hurryin' like the dickens,

too," he said. "He's gone to hunt up a feller named Barnes. He told me

to tell you when you came out."