Track's End: Being the Narrative of Judson Pitcher's Strange Winter Spent There as Told by Himself and Edited by Hayden Carruth Including an Accurate Account of His Numerous Adventures, and the Facts Concerning His Several Surprising Escapes from Death Now First Printed in FullCarruth, Hayden
General
Track's End: Being the Narrative of Judson Pitcher's Strange Winter Spent There as Told by Himself and Edited by Hayden Carruth Including an Accurate Account of His Numerous Adventures, and the Facts Concerning His Several Surprising Escapes from Death Now First Printed in Full
Carruth, Hayden
Adventure stories; Dakota Territory -- Fiction; Winter -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
"You'll be glad to hear, Jud, that we're getting along beautiful on
that safe. We're a-going to blow the stuffing out of it the next thing
_you_ know. Reckon if you ain't particular we'll just borrow a sleigh
we see out here and a set of Sours's harness for a couple of our
horses when we go away, 'cause we think the specie may be a little
heavy. Besides, we're calculating there may be some other stuff around
town worth taking off--Winchesters and such agricultural and
stock-raising implements," and he laughed. He seemed to be in very
good humor.
He went back, and for another long while I heard nothing but steady
drilling on the safe and a little of their talk, though I could not
catch much of that. Sometimes, too, I could hear Kaiser barking. He
was locked in the hotel, and I thought he knew I was in trouble and
wanted to get out and help me.
After what seemed hours Pike came in again.
"We blow 'er open now very shortly," he said. "A reg'ler little Fourth
o' July celebration of our own, hey, Jud?" Then he laughed and went
on: "We need that money and you bet it's going to come handy." He
looked at me, came closer with the lantern, and said:
"Jud, what d'ye say to coming in with us and having your share like a
man? You're a good one, if you _are_ young, and we can find plenty of
work for you, and always you get your share."
"No," I said, "I don't care to."
He looked at me sharply a moment and then went on:
"Just as you please, of course. But me and the boys was talking it
over and we calculated it was the best way to dispose of you, a _pile_
the best for you and _some_ better for us."
I had kept looking straight into his eyes, under his big eyebrows.
"No," I said, "I won't do it."
"Oh, take your choice," he answered, "take your choice. Just as you
think best, of course. Only you know the old saying about how dead men
don't tell any tales. And if you come in with us you get your share,
just the same as if you'd done your part of the work."
I said nothing. He waited a minute, then went out and shut the door. I
sprang up and pulled and wrenched at the brace with all my strength.
The handcuffs cut into my wrists, but I did not feel it. The brace
stayed as firm as ever. I sat down weak and trembling with my last
hope gone. A minute later there was a loud explosion in the bank,
which shook the building I was in. Next came a cheer from the men.
Then voices, and I heard Pike shout:
"It's all afire here--bring a pail of water, Joe!"
The well windlass creaked and I heard a man start in from the back.
Next I heard Pike say, "We'll soon fix that fire," then came an
explosion and a crash, like an earthquake, and the wall came down upon
me, and the counter came over and I was half under it. I heard the
cries of the men, and, wriggling about, I got out from under the
counter and found my hands free from the brace, and the snowflakes
coming in my face through where half the side of the building had been
blown away.
CHAPTER XXI
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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