Children of the Whirlwind [28]
you sold yourself to Chief Barlow!"
"Why, you damned--"
Even before he spoke Larry launched a furious swing straight from the hip at Barney's twisted face. But Barney had been expecting exactly that, and was even the quicker. He caught Larry's wrist before it was fairly started, and thrust a dull-hued automatic into Larry's stomach.
"Behave; damn you," gritted Barney, "or I'll blow your damned guts out! No--go ahead and try to hit me. I'd like nothing better than to kill you, you rat, and have a good plea of self-defense!"
Larry let his hands unclench and fall to his sides. "You've got the drop on me, Barney--but you're a liar."
"You bet I got the drop on you! And not only with my gun. I've got it on you about being a stool. Everybody knows you are a stool. And what's more, they know you are a squealer!"
"A squealer!" Larry stiffened again.
"A stool and a squealer!" Barney fairly hurled at Larry these two most despised epithets of his world. "You've done your job swell as a stool, and squealed on Red Hannigan and Jack Rosenfeldt and turned them up for the police!"
"You believe I had anything to do with their arrest?" exclaimed Larry.
Barney laughed in his derision.
"Of course we believe it," put in Old Jimmie, his seamed, cunning face now ruthlessly hard. "And what's more, we know it!"
"And what's still more," Barney taunted, "Maggie believes it, too!"
Larry turned to Maggie. Her face was now drawn, with staring eyes.
"Maggie--do you believe it?" he demanded.
For a moment she neither spoke nor moved. Then slowly she nodded.
"But, Maggie," he protested, "I didn't do it! Barlow did ask me to be a stool, but I turned him down! Aside from that, I know no more of this than you do!"
"Of course you'd deny it--we were waiting for that," sneered Barney. "Jimmie, we've wasted enough time here. Take Maggie's bag and let's be moving on."
Old Jimmie picked up Maggie's suitcase, and slipping a hand through her arm led her across the room. She did not even say good-bye to Hunt or the Duchess, or even glance at them; but went out silently, her drawn, staring look on Larry alone.
Barney backed after them, his automatic still held in readiness. "I'm letting you down damned easy, Brainard," he said, hate glittering in his eyes. "But there's some who won't be so nice!"
With that he closed the door. Until that moment both Hunt and the Duchess had said nothing. Now the Duchess spoke up:
"I'm glad they've taken Maggie away, Larry. I've seen the way you've come to feel about her, and she's not the right sort for you."
But Larry was still too dazed by the way in which Maggie had walked out of his life to make any response.
"But there's a lot in what Barney said about there being some who wouldn't be easy on you," continued the Duchess. "That word had been brought me before Barney showed up. So I had this ready for you."
From a slit pocket in her baggy skirt the Duchess drew out a pistol and handed it to Larry.
"What's this for?" Larry asked.
"I was told that word had gone out to the Ginger Buck Gang to get you," answered the Duchess. "Barney has some secret connection with the Ginger Bucks. His saying that you were a stool and a squealer is not the only thing he's got against you; he's jealous of you on account of everything--especially Maggie. So you'll need that gun."
"What's this I've fallen into the middle of?" exclaimed Hunt. "A Kentucky feud?"
"It's very easy to understand when you know the code," Larry explained grimly. "Down here when an outfit thinks one of its members has squealed on them, it's their duty to be always on the watch for their chance to finish him off. I'm to be finished off--that's all."
"Say, young fellow, the life of a straight crook doesn't seem to be getting much simpler! Why, man, you hardly dare to stir from the house! What are you going to do?"
"Going to go around my business, always with the pleasant anticipation of a bullet in my back when some fellow thinks it safe for him to shoot."
The three of them discussed this latest
"Why, you damned--"
Even before he spoke Larry launched a furious swing straight from the hip at Barney's twisted face. But Barney had been expecting exactly that, and was even the quicker. He caught Larry's wrist before it was fairly started, and thrust a dull-hued automatic into Larry's stomach.
"Behave; damn you," gritted Barney, "or I'll blow your damned guts out! No--go ahead and try to hit me. I'd like nothing better than to kill you, you rat, and have a good plea of self-defense!"
Larry let his hands unclench and fall to his sides. "You've got the drop on me, Barney--but you're a liar."
"You bet I got the drop on you! And not only with my gun. I've got it on you about being a stool. Everybody knows you are a stool. And what's more, they know you are a squealer!"
"A squealer!" Larry stiffened again.
"A stool and a squealer!" Barney fairly hurled at Larry these two most despised epithets of his world. "You've done your job swell as a stool, and squealed on Red Hannigan and Jack Rosenfeldt and turned them up for the police!"
"You believe I had anything to do with their arrest?" exclaimed Larry.
Barney laughed in his derision.
"Of course we believe it," put in Old Jimmie, his seamed, cunning face now ruthlessly hard. "And what's more, we know it!"
"And what's still more," Barney taunted, "Maggie believes it, too!"
Larry turned to Maggie. Her face was now drawn, with staring eyes.
"Maggie--do you believe it?" he demanded.
For a moment she neither spoke nor moved. Then slowly she nodded.
"But, Maggie," he protested, "I didn't do it! Barlow did ask me to be a stool, but I turned him down! Aside from that, I know no more of this than you do!"
"Of course you'd deny it--we were waiting for that," sneered Barney. "Jimmie, we've wasted enough time here. Take Maggie's bag and let's be moving on."
Old Jimmie picked up Maggie's suitcase, and slipping a hand through her arm led her across the room. She did not even say good-bye to Hunt or the Duchess, or even glance at them; but went out silently, her drawn, staring look on Larry alone.
Barney backed after them, his automatic still held in readiness. "I'm letting you down damned easy, Brainard," he said, hate glittering in his eyes. "But there's some who won't be so nice!"
With that he closed the door. Until that moment both Hunt and the Duchess had said nothing. Now the Duchess spoke up:
"I'm glad they've taken Maggie away, Larry. I've seen the way you've come to feel about her, and she's not the right sort for you."
But Larry was still too dazed by the way in which Maggie had walked out of his life to make any response.
"But there's a lot in what Barney said about there being some who wouldn't be easy on you," continued the Duchess. "That word had been brought me before Barney showed up. So I had this ready for you."
From a slit pocket in her baggy skirt the Duchess drew out a pistol and handed it to Larry.
"What's this for?" Larry asked.
"I was told that word had gone out to the Ginger Buck Gang to get you," answered the Duchess. "Barney has some secret connection with the Ginger Bucks. His saying that you were a stool and a squealer is not the only thing he's got against you; he's jealous of you on account of everything--especially Maggie. So you'll need that gun."
"What's this I've fallen into the middle of?" exclaimed Hunt. "A Kentucky feud?"
"It's very easy to understand when you know the code," Larry explained grimly. "Down here when an outfit thinks one of its members has squealed on them, it's their duty to be always on the watch for their chance to finish him off. I'm to be finished off--that's all."
"Say, young fellow, the life of a straight crook doesn't seem to be getting much simpler! Why, man, you hardly dare to stir from the house! What are you going to do?"
"Going to go around my business, always with the pleasant anticipation of a bullet in my back when some fellow thinks it safe for him to shoot."
The three of them discussed this latest