A Woman at Bay: or, A Fiend in Skirts. Carter Nicholas
and her complexion was as dark as the hue to which he had stained his own. Her eyes were large, and round, and full, and fierce, and she held her head, with its crown of dead-black hair, as if she were monarch of all she surveyed. And the strangest part of it all was that she did not appear to be more than twenty years old.
With a steady stare she took in every detail of Nick's appearance, from the top of his head to the shoes he wore on his feet; and then she turned slowly to Handsome.
"Whom have we here?" she demanded.
"Dago John, he calls himself," was the reply.
"The man you spoke of?"
"Yes."
"Who is so strong that he could throw you over the fire into the bushes, and who did not harm you when he might have done so, after you had struck at him with your fist?"
"The same."
She turned her attention to Nick then.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"Just what you see, missus; no more and no less," replied Nick, speaking boldly, for he deemed that to be the surest way to her favor.
"I see very little; nothing whatever that betokens the strength you are said to possess."
"You can't always tell what's inside of a crib before you crack it," was the reply; and the woman smiled.
"Where do you come from?" she asked.
"I ain't giving out my past history, lady, if it's all the same to you," said Nick coolly; and she frowned. Evidently she did not like this answer.
"What errand brought you to this part of the country, and finally induced you to make your camp in the woods out there?" she asked, smiling again.
"I suppose you want the plain truth, lady?"
"Yes," she replied, in an easy tone; "that is, if you put any value on your life."
"Well, the truth is this: I have heard, here and there, a good deal about a certain person who is known as Hobo Harry, the Beggar King. I have heard that he has gathered around him a lot of my kind, and I reckoned that maybe he'd give me a show to be one of them. That's what I came here for, and that's why I camped out there in the woods."
"And who are the three men who came with you?"
"Nobody came with me. I came alone."
"There were three other men there when Handsome found you? No?"
"Yes."
"Who are they?"
"Handsome can tell you that as well, or better, than I. He did the questioning."
"Why do you want to join the forces of Hobo Harry?"
"Because I'm tired of going it alone, and because I have heard that he takes good care of his followers."
"What can you do?"
"I can do anything that I am told to, once I have acknowledged a chief."
"That is a good answer. It covers a good deal of ground. Now, who told you about Hobo Harry?"
"I have heard about him in a good many places."
"Who told you where to find him?"
"A gun friend of mine, who croaked down in Indianapolis, a month ago or more. Jimmy the Sly he was called." (It was true that there had been a Jimmy the Sly, who was one of the many of the band who had been arrested and imprisoned; and after his release he had gone to Indianapolis, and died there, in a hospital. Nick knew this from his interview with the railroad president, and therefore he was not afraid to make use of the name.)
"So you knew Jimmy the Sly, did you?"
"Yes."
"Describe him to me."
"He was tall and slender, with a pock-marked face, and the longest fingers I ever saw; and he had a wart on the side of his nose, and a – "
"That will do. That is sufficient. How comes it that Jimmy never mentioned you to me?"
"You'll have to ask Jimmy that, I reckon – and you might burn yourself if you undertook to do it. I reckon it's hot where Jimmy is, madam."
She smiled at this. Nick could see that he was making a good impression upon her. He was still wondering if she were indeed the chief, or if she were only his representative. It was certain that he had had no expectation of finding a woman in this place.
"And what do you wish me to do with you, now that you are here?"
"I reckon that I'll have to leave that to you. I didn't come with my eyes shut. I guessed pretty well what I was up against. But I came here to be made one of you, and I hope you will give me a chance."
"What do you know of Hobo Harry?"
"Nothing."
"What do you think he is?"
"The head gazabo of this bunch."
"What do you suppose he is like?"
"Just at present writing, madam, he looks to me very much like a beautiful woman who has the grace of a siren and the courage of a lion."
"You should be a Frenchman instead of an Italian."
"I am neither one nor the other. I'm just a – a yeggman."
"You were about to say something else."
"I was going to say – a crook."
"You have not been a yeggman always, have you?"
"I never knew anybody who had been, madam."
"You are not really a yeggman, or a hobo. Confess the truth now; aren't you under cover, and playing the rôle for the purpose of being out of sight for a time?"
"I'm willing to say yes, if it pleases you."
"What has been your line of work, Dago?"
"Well, I'm a fair penman; I'm a good mechanic; I could be a passable druggist if I tried, and I wouldn't shy at taking a hand at running a bank, if it was big enough for the risk."
"I begin to think that you are all right, Dago."
"You can betcher life that I'm all right, madam, if it comes to that. But I don't reckon that you'll take me on my say-so. You'll be wanting some sort of proof of me before you consent to take me into the fold."
"You are correct about that."
"I'm ready for anything."
"You have told me that you are a penman, which means that you could be a forger; you have said that you are a mechanic, which means that you could crack a crib if necessary; you called yourself a druggist, which means that you know how to use the chemicals, and the poisons, too, if necessary; and you would not refuse to tackle a bank job if one should come your way. Do you happen to have the mark of blood against you, too?"
"I don't suppose there is any mark that I haven't got."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"Well, I wouldn't stay in a house if I wanted to get out when a live man stood in my way, if that is what you mean."
The woman turned to Handsome quite suddenly.
"What time do you start?" she asked of him; and he replied, as if the question were a continuance of their conversation:
"I ought to start now – inside of ten minutes."
"Very good," she said. "Take Dago with you. Break him in. Let him have the worst of it. If he makes good, all right. If he doesn't – shoot him."
"All right," said Handsome cheerfully. "What about the others? There are two more out there near the tracks."
"I will attend to them. Go, now. Take this man with you. Give him all the rope he needs – but watch him. I'd sooner trust him with you than anybody else, anyhow – and I believe he is all right."
"Come!" said Handsome, seizing Nick by the arm; and he pulled him through the door after him. But all the way to the door, Nick kept his eyes upon the woman, who was looking at him strangely, and with a curious smile