A Broken Bond; Or, The Man Without MoralsCarter, Nicholas (House name)
General
A Broken Bond; Or, The Man Without Morals
Carter, Nicholas (House name)
Detective and mystery stories; Dime novels; Popular literature
“That’s the plan—by the next boat,” was the sullen reply. “We figured
it out before this came up, and of course I was anxious to get back
home when I’d made my pile. I haven’t been back in twenty-five years.
When this break came, though, I wasn’t keen on going back with Win. But
he wouldn’t hear of anything else. I reckon he thinks the trip will
give him a good chance to polish me off.”
“The plan still holds good, then?”
“Yes. I ain’t a coward, and if one of us doesn’t get the other before,
then you won’t find me backing out.”
Young Floyd’s brows were knit, and he gazed absent-mindedly at the
ground for some moments.
“Well,” he said at length, “it’s a big responsibility to take, and I
don’t know that I ought to assume it, but there doesn’t seem to be
anything else to do—short of giving you up.”
His eyes sought Stone’s and held them.
“Mr. Stone,” he continued, speaking slowly, “I need not repeat that I’m
in a position to cause your arrest at any moment, and to give the most
damaging testimony against you. I don’t want to do it, because of what
I believe in regard to your condition, but you may be sure that I’ll
do it at the drop of the hat if anything happens to Mr. Crawford or if
you make any other attempt on his life. Now, remembering that, will you
give me your solemn promise—will you swear, in fact—that you’ll have no
other crime against you, and that when you reach New York you’ll do as
I say?”
The bronzed miner hesitated for some time, then held out his hand,
which Floyd took.
“I swear to you, Charlie,” he said, “that I won’t start anything
myself, if that’s what you want. Of course, if Crawford tries anything
on me I’ll have to defend myself. You couldn’t expect me to take it
without lifting a finger.”
“Certainly not,” the young doctor agreed. “Mind you, though, you’ve got
to refrain from anything hostile, unless you actually catch him in an
attempt on you—which is out of the question, as he would be incapable
of doing such a thing.”
“Incapable your grandmother!” was the scornful response. “You don’t
know Win Crawford as well as I do. I’ve given you my word, though. Now
what else do you want?”
“I want you to remember what will happen to you if you fail to keep
this oath. Will you?”
“I ain’t likely to forget. Is that all? What was it you wanted me to do
in New York?”
“To go to see some one who can help you, if any one can.”
“You mean a doctor?”
“Yes, a great one—the head of one of the biggest hospitals in the city.”
“Look here!” Stone burst out angrily. “Are you trying to have me sent
to an asylum?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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