fiercely, but was faced by Brooks quietly, with one finger calmly hooked
in his waistcoat pocket. The man slightly recoiled from him--not as much
from fear as from some vague stupefaction. "What's that for? What's your
little game?" he said half contemptuously.
"No game at all," returned Brooks coolly. "You came here to sell a
secret. I don't propose to have it given away first to any listener."
"YOU don't--who are YOU?"
"That's a queer question to ask of the man you are trying to
personate--but I don't wonder! You're doing it d----d badly."
"Personate--YOU?" said the stranger, with staring eyes.
"Yes, ME," said Brooks quietly. "I am the only man who escaped from the
robbery that night at Heavy Tree Hill and who went home by the Overland
Coach."
The stranger stared, but recovered himself with a coarse laugh. "Oh,
well! we're on the same lay, it appears! Both after the widow--afore we
show up her husband."
"Not exactly," said Brooks, with his eyes fixed intently on the
stranger. "You are here to denounce a highwayman who is DEAD and escaped
justice. I am here to denounce one who is LIVING!--Stop! drop your hand;
it's no use. You thought you had to deal only with a woman to-night, and
your revolver isn't quite handy enough. There! down!--down! So! That'll
do."
"You can't prove it," said the man hoarsely.
"Fool! In your story to that woman you have given yourself away. There
were but two travelers attacked by the highwaymen. One was killed--I am
the other. Where do YOU come in? What witness can you be--except as
the highwayman that you are? Who is left to identify Wade but--his
accomplice!"
The man's suddenly whitened face made his unshaven beard seem to bristle
over his face like some wild animal's. "Well, ef you kalkilate to blow
me, you've got to blow Wade and his widder too. Jest you remember that,"
he said whiningly.
"I've thought of that," said Brooks coolly, "and I calculate that to
prevent it is worth about that hundred dollars you got from that
|