The Demon Trapper of Umbagog: A Thrilling Tale of the Maine ForestsThompson, Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce)
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The Demon Trapper of Umbagog: A Thrilling Tale of the Maine Forests
Thompson, Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce)
Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction; Maine -- Fiction; Trappers -- Fiction
“And why not?” responded the former. “He may have as good luck as the
best of us, as it appears he has had. And hark ye, Gaut, you look
things at us that it might not be safe for you to say in this room.”
“Gentlemen, you will all bear me out in leaving, now,” here interposed
Elwood, beginning to make towards the door.
“Stop, sir!” thundered Gaut. “You are not a-going to sneak off with all
that money in your pocket, by a d--d sight!”
“Why not, sir?” replied Elwood; “why not, for all you can say?”
“Because I have lost, sir!” shouted Gurley, hoarse with rage. “I have
lost three games running,--lost all I have. I demand a fair chance
to win it back; and that chance I will have, or I’ll make you, Mark
Elwood, curse the hour you refused it.”
“Gaut Gurley, you insatiate fiend!” exclaimed Elwood, in a tone of
mingled anger and distress; “you it was who first led me into this
accursed habit of play, by which you have robbed me of untold thousands
yourself, and been the means of my being robbed of thousands more by
others. You have brought me to the door of ruin before, and would now
take all I have to save me from absolute bankruptcy.”
“Whining hypocrite!” cried Gurley, starting up in rage. “Do you tell
that story when you have my last dollar in your pocket? But your
pitiful whining shall not avail you. If you leave this room alive, you
leave that money behind you.”
“Stop, stop!” here interposed one of the company, who had noted what
had inadvertently fallen from Elwood, in his warmth, respecting his
apprehended bankruptcy; “stop, no such recriminations and threatenings
here! I can show Elwood a way to dispose of a part of his money, at
least, without bringing on any one the charge of robbing or being
robbed. Here is a note of your signing, Mr. Elwood,--a debt of
honor,--for a couple of hundreds, contracted in this very room, you
will remember. You may as well pay it.”
“I have a similar bit of paper,” said another, coming forward and
presenting a note for a still larger sum.
“And I, likewise,” said a third, joining the group, with an additional
piece of evidence of Elwood’s folly, in the shape of a gambling note;
“and I shall insist on payment with the rest, seeing the money cannot
be disposed of between you and Gaut without a quarrel and danger of
bloodshed.”
With a perplexed and troubled air, Elwood paced the room a moment,
without uttering a word in reply to the different demands that had
so unexpectedly been made upon him. He glanced furtively towards the
door, as if calculating the chances of escaping through it before any
one could interpose to prevent him. He then glanced inquiringly at
the company for such indications of sympathy or forbearance as might
warrant the attempt; but in their countenances he read only that which
should deter him from resorting to any such means of escaping the
dilemma in which he now found himself. And, suddenly stopping short and
turning to the new claimants for his money, he said:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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