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Dink searched about the summer kitchen for an ax or hatchet; but failing to find

either rummaged through a table drawer until he came upon a large carving

knife. This would do the job nicely. He thumbed the edge as he carried it back

into the parlor to Crumb.

The poor woman, lying upon the floor, was quite conscious. Her eyes were wide

and rolling in horror. She struggled with her bonds, and tried to force the gag

from her mouth with her tongue; but her every effort was useless. She had heard

every word that had passed between the two men. She knew that they would

carry out the plan they had formulated and that there was no chance that they

would be interrupted in their gruesome work, for her husband had driven over to

a farm beyond Holliday, leaving before sunrise, and there was little prospect that

he would return before milking time in the evening. The detectives from Kansas

City could not possibly reach the farm until far too late to save her.

She saw Dink return from the summer kitchen with the long knife. She recalled

the day she had bought that knife in town, and the various uses to which she

had put it. That very morning she had sliced some bacon with it. How distinctly

such little things recurred to her at this frightful moment. And now the hideous

creature standing beside her was going to use it to cut her throat.

She saw Crumb take the knife and feel of the blade, running his thumb along it.

She saw him stoop, his eyes turned down upon hers. He grasped her chin and

forced it upward and back, the better to expose her throat.

Oh, why could she not faint? Why must she suffer all these hideous

preliminaries? Why could she not even close her eyes?

Crumb raised the knife and held the blade close above her bared neck. A shudder

ran through her, and then the door crashed open and a man sprang into the

room. It was Billy Byrne. Through the window he had seen what was passing in

the interior.

His hand fell upon Crumb's collar and jerked him backward from his prey. Dink

seized the shotgun and turned it upon the intruder; but he was too close. Billy

grasped the barrel of the weapon and threw the muzzle up toward the ceiling as

the tramp pulled the trigger. Then he wrenched it from the man's hands, swung it

once above his head and crashed the stock down upon Dink's skull.

Dink went down and out for the count--for several counts, in fact. Crumb

stumbled to his feet and made a break for the door. In the doorway he ran full

into Bridge, winded, but ready. The latter realizing that the matted one was

attempting to escape, seized a handful of his tangled beard, and, as he had done

upon another occasion, held the tramp's head in rigid position while he planted a

185

The Mucker