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 series of blows in the fellow's
face--blows that left Crumb as completely out of battle as
was his mildewed comrade.
"Watch 'em," said Billy, handing Bridge the shotgun. Then
he turned his attention to the woman. With the carving knife
that was to have ended her life he cut her bonds. Removing
the gag from her mouth he lifted her in his strong arms and
carried her to the little horsehair sofa that stood in one corner
of the parlor, laying her upon it very gently.
He was thinking of "Maw" Watson. This woman resembled
her just a little--particularly in her comfortable, motherly
expansiveness, and she had had a kind word and a cheery
good-bye for him that morning as he had departed.
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