The Gold Hunter's Adventures Or, Life In Australia Volume 2 ( Of 2 ) - William H. Thomes (large screen ebook reader txt) 📗

Likely To Cost Him Imprisonment For Life. He

Appeared To Imagine That The Handcuffing Was An Excellent Joke, And A

Taint Smile Overspread His Face; But After Finding That No One Returned

It, A Deadly Paleness Chased The Color From His Lips, And He Trembled

As Though He Was Already Arraigned Before A Tribunal For Sentence.

 

"What Is The Meaning Of This?" He Stammered Out, After Moistening His

Mouth, Which Seemed Parched, With His Tongue.

 

"It Means," Whispered The Inspector, "That You Are My Prisoner, And The

First Effort That You Make To Escape Will Result In Your Death. Remain

Quiet, And Do As I Wish You To, And You Will Fare Well, But--"

 

He Pressed The Barrel Of A Revolver Against His Side, And The Fellow

Trembled At Its Touch.

 

"Who Are You?" Jackson Demanded, Almost In An Inaudible Voice.

 

"I Am That D----D Brown Whom You Spoke Of A Few Minutes Since," Replied

The Inspector, With A Chuckle.

 

"And These Two Men?" He Asked, Pointing To Fred And Myself.

 

"The Americans, Whom You Thought To Get Convicted Of Murder. You See

That They Have Played You A Yankee Trick, And Have Rather Got The Best

Of The Bargain."

 

The Poor Wretch's Head Fell Upon His Breast, And We Supposed That He Was

Completely Crushed By His Unexpected Arrest, But We Kept A Sharp Eye

Upon His Movements, Nevertheless, For Fear That He Should Convey

Intelligence Of His Situation To The Noisy And Drunken Gang In The Room.

We Knew That The Single Word "Traps" Would Cause Them To Swarm Around Us

Like Hornets, And That Many Blows Would Have To Be Struck Before We

Could Make Our Way To The Street And Escape With Our Prisoner, Whom We

Were Desirous Of Holding On To At Every Hazard.

 

"Steel Spring," Whispered The Inspector, But No Steel Spring Was Present

To Respond. The Fellow Had Stolen Away Unperceived As Soon As The

Handcuffs Were Put On Jackson's Wrists,' Disliking The Idea Of Fighting

His Way From The Room. The Act Was Characteristic Of The Man, And We

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Cursed Him In Our Hearts For A Coward And A Traitor.

 

Here Were But Three Of Us To Oppose Nearly Thirty, And To Add To Our

Trouble It Was Not Only Necessary That We Should Get Clear Ourselves,

But That We Should Take Our Prisoner With Us; And While We Knew That In

Case Of A Rush We Would Stand But A Slim Chance, We Determined That We

Would Dispute Our Lives With The Ruffians, And Make Every Shot In Our

Revolvers Tell.

 

"If That Coward Of A Steel Spring Was Only Here," Muttered The

Inspector.

 

"He Would Be Of Little Use To Us," I Remarked, "For He Has Not Pluck

Enough To Fight A Hedgehog, If It Showed Spirit."

 

"I Expected To Send Him For The Reserved Police Force That I Have Posted

Near At Hand. I Told Them To Wait Until They Got Word From Me, And They

Will Obey Orders."

 

"It Is Useless To Repine," Fred Exclaimed. "Let Us Make A Bold Push For

The Street, And Trust To Our Usual Good Luck And Boldness For An

Escape."

 

"Or, Had We Better Sit Here Until Morning, And Pretend To Drink As Hard

As Those Around Us? By Daylight Most Of Those Present Will Be Either

Drunk Or Asleep, And Then We Could Get Off Without Much Of A Struggle."

 

The Advice Of The Inspector Was Good, And Perhaps We Should Have Adopted

It; But Just At That Moment A Burly Fellow Staggered Towards Our Table,

And Seemed Determined To Cultivate A More Intimate Acquaintance.

 

"You Coves Don't Seem To Drink As Though You Liked Our Lush," He Began,

Steadying Himself By Holding On To The Table With One Hand, And Pointing

To The Half-Filled Glasses Before Us. "If The Liquor Isn't Good Why

Don't You Say So, And Be Hanged To You," He Continued.

 

We Made A Short Reply That We Liked The Liquor Very Much, And Was Going

To Drink Our Share Of It As Soon As We Got Some Business Arranged.

 

"Well, Let Us Have A Rousing Drink, And I'll Pay For It," Our

Troublesome Friend Continued, And In Spite Of Our Declaration He Ordered

A Pint Of Whiskey, And Then Sat Down Beside Us As Though He Was

Determined To See That Full Justice Was Done To His Treat.

 

I Shoved Jackson's Hands Under The Table So That His Bracelets Could Not

Be Seen, And Then I Held Them In That Position Until The Liquor Was

Brought, When A New Source Of Trouble Awaited Us. It Was Necessary, To

Escape Without A Quarrel, That Each Of Us Should Honor The Unexpected

Treat By Partaking Of It; But When It Came Jackson's Turn To Drink, We

All Protested That He Had His Reasons For Not Imbibing, But Our

Troublesome Friend Overruled Them.

 

"He Shall Drink, By G----D, Or Fight," Roared The Ruffian; And As He

Spoke We Saw, With Some Misgivings, That Our Corner Of The Room Was The

Volume 2 Chapter 57 (More Of The Same Sort) Pg 88

Centre Of Attraction, And That The Sleeping Thieves Were Waking Up, And

Listening To Hear What The Row Was About.

 

"Sit Down, Man," Cried The Inspector, Calmly, "And Let Me Drink His

Share. I'll Drink Glass After Glass With You, Until Daylight."

 

"Not By A D----D Sight. I Want That Fellow To Respond To My Toast:

'Death And Confusion To All Policemen!'" Shouted The Ruffian, Bringing

His Glass Down Upon The Table With So Much Force That It Was Shivered To

Pieces, And One Of The Fragments Struck Our Prisoner On His Face, And So

Startled Him That He Sprang Up, In Defiance Of The Inspector's Threat,

And Revealed What We Had Attempted To Conceal, His Confined Hands.

 

The Secret Was Out, And Frowns And Threats Were In Vain. We Felt In Our

Pockets And Satisfied Ourselves That Our Revolvers Were Ready, And Then

Waited For The Astonished Ruffian To Give An Alarm; But He Seemed

Incapable Of Motion, For He Sat Staring At Jackson As Though Hardly

Daring To Believe His Eyes.

 

"Make For The Door," Whispered The Inspector, And Grasping The Prisoner

By His Right Arm He Arose, An Example Which We Followed.

 

Then Did The Ruffian, Who Had Insisted Upon Our Drinking With Him, Find

His Tongue, For With One Spring He Cleared The Rude Bench Upon Which He

Was Seated And Rushed Towards His Comrades Shouting A Word, Which, Above

All Others, Was Most Dreaded By Thieves.

 

"Traps!" He Yelled; And At The Sound Every Thief Started To His Feet,

And Even Those Who Were Lying In The Corners Of The Room, Sleepy And

Overpowered With Drink, Sat Up And Rubbed Their Eyes, Ready To Fight In

Self-Defence, Or To Make An Escape, Just According To The Chances Which

Presented Themselves.

 

"Traps," Once More Repeated The Frightened Ruffian, And A Dozen Voices

Demanded Where They Were, While Three Or Four Men Opened The Shutters

Of The Windows To See If The Building Was Attacked On The Outside. Two

Or Three Of The Most Timid Disappeared From The Room Through A Small

Door, Which We Afterwards Learned Led Through A Subterranean Passage To

A Deserted Mine, And From Thence Escape Was Easy By Means Of The Shaft.

 

"Where Are They?" Roared A Dozen Voices All At Once; And As The Ruffians

Asked, We Had The Disagreeable Pleasure Of Seeing Long Knives Unsheathed

And Two Or Three Pistols Drawn; But Even During The Confusion We Managed

To Approach The Door Through Which We Had Entered, And Which We Prayed

To Leave Without A Severe Wound.

 

"There They Go--We Are Betrayed--Down With Them," Were The Cries That We

Heard; But To Our Satisfaction A Man Whom We Had Not Counted On Rushed

Between Us And The Crowd, His Voice, Clear And Ringing, Being Heard

Above The Din.

 

"Put Up Your Knives," He Shouted, "Or You'll Bring Trouble On Me And My

House. Let The Gentlemen Go--It's Nothin' But A Fadlin' Cove They've

Got, And Not A Bushman. For The Honor Of The 'Cricket' Don't Spill Blood

Volume 2 Chapter 57 (More Of The Same Sort) Pg 89

Here," Pleaded Dan Brian, The Proprietor.

 

"Move On," Whispered The Inspector, "And Don't Relax Your Hold Of The

Prisoner. Keep Your Pistols In Your Pockets, And Don't Use Them Until I

Set An Example."

 

"It Is Selling Us, Dan Brian, You Are," Cried Half A Dozen Voices, And

There Were Shouts And Oaths Of Rage At The Thought.

 

"'Pon My Honor, I'm Not," Reiterated Dan; "I Never Sold A Pal In My

Life, And, By The Blessing Of God, I Won't. It's A Poor Devil They've

Got Now, Of No Account To Any Of Us."

 

"He's A Thief, And In The Hands Of 'Traps,'" Shouted One, "And If We Let

Him Go Without A Blow, None Of Us Will Be Safe."

 

"That's So," Yelled The Crowd, And The Most Violent Pushed Dan Aside, Or

Attempted To, For The Purpose Of Getting At Us.

 

"We Will Listen To Nothing," Roared The Ruffians, "Until The Poor Devil

Is Free, And Then We Will Talk Until Daylight, If It Will Please The

Police."

 

An Almost Imperceptible Signal Was Exchanged Between The Inspector And

Dan, But To No Purpose, For Our Party Continued To Retreat, And The

Others Advance, With Many Menacing Gestures, And The Only Thing That

Surprised Me Was The Reluctance To Use Firearms On The Part Of Our

Enemies. This, I Afterwards Found, Was Owing To The Fear Of Bringing A

Squad Of Mounted Police To The Spot, Large Numbers Of Whom Were

Constantly Patrolling "Gravel Pit Hill" During The Night, And The Signal

For A Disturbance Would Have Been The Arrest Of Every One Present,

Simply By Surrounding The House And Searching The Underground Passages.

 

By The Time The Last Demand Was Made, We Were At The Door And All Ready

To Take Down The Bar, When A Rush Was Made Towards Us, And By The Rather

Dim Light I Saw A Dozen Long Knives, Such As The Stockmen Of The Plains

Wear In Their Belts For The Purpose Of Killing Cattle, Flash From Their

Sheaths, And Grasped As Though Business Was Intended.

 

"Keep Your Backs To The Door," Cried The Inspector, Calmly, Not At All

Dismayed By The Formidable Array Against Us, "And Don't Let A Man

Approach Within A Yard Without Getting A Good Shot."

 

We Covered Our Prisoner In Such A Manner That He Could Do Us No Harm,

And Then Formed In A Triangular