“Not the front door, Fred. Go to the corner,
then up the cross street and come back through the
coal yard.”
Cummings did as he was told and entering the yard
was met by Weaver, who dragged him into the house,
and after carefully closing the door, lit the lamp
and said:
“Dan’s arrested.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, you fool.”
“So is Cook.”
“If you have any news to tell me out with it;
if you haven’t go get the money. This cursed
country is getting too hot for me. I’m off
for Brazil.”
“The money is safe. Haight will be here
soon. You are safe here.”
“Don’t you be too sure about that.
I thought I was safe down at Swanson’s ranche,
and damn it, two of those Pinkerton detectives ate
with me, slept with me and gambled with me. They
had their hands on me once but I floored one and got
away. Dan, the coward, threw up his hand the
first bluff and was walked off with the darbies on
him.”
“Jim, suppose he should turn informer?”
A terrible frown blackened the outlaw’s brow,
his eyes became hard and steely, and raising his hand
above his head, he said:
“So help me God, I would hunt him up, tear his
cowardly heart from his breast and choke him to death
with it, if I had to go to prison to do it and was
hung for it.”
An involuntary shudder passed through Weaver as he
heard these fearful words and he hastened to say:
“No danger of Dan’s squealing, Fred. He’s
true blue.”
“If he don’t give the express robbery
away he can easily get out of this other scrape.
You see we had a lay to get away with Swanson’s
money and the two detectives went in with us.
That is how they got Dan and nearly captured me.
If Dan keeps his mouth shut they can’t prove
anything against him on account of the Adams Express
affair. So, you see, if he is wise he will keep
mum.”
While the two men were thus conversing Chip and Sam
were seated before an open window on the second floor
of the house opposite the coal office. The city
directory readily gave them the address of Wittrock’s
coalyard, and securing this room a constant watch had
been kept on the spotted house.
Nothing suspicious had been noted during the day;
customers had passed in and out, and Sam had even
bought a half ton of coal which was carried to his
room. The two men who ran the coalyard, whose
names were found to be Weaver and Haight, were well
spoken of in the neighborhood and did not look to
be the sort of stuff out of which train robbers were
manufactured.
While buying the coal Sam had purposely called Weaver
“Mr. Wittrock.”
“That isn’t my name,” said Weaver,
“Me and my pardner bought out Wittrock last
October.”
“Excuse me,” said Sam; “I saw the
name over the door and thought you were the gentleman.”
“We don’t like to pull down the sign.
People know the yard by that name, an’ we don’t
care, so long as they buy the coal.”
