Fritz to the Front, or, the Ventriloquist Scamp-Hunter Part 19

"Do so! I would cheerfully pay that penalty of my folly in ever having anything to do with you, a hundred times, rather than submit to your demands."

"Then--but no! I'll release you if you'll give me half of the sum."

"Not a cent, you detestable wretch."

"Curses on your obstinacy! You have refused to do what is right, and you shall take the the consequences."

Stepping back he reclosed the door angrily, and hastily relocked the padlock; then he left the main chamber, for the outer one, and jumped into the boat.

The tide was now on the ebb, and the water was now down so that he could row out of the hole into the ocean.

As soon as he got out a grand sight met his gaze.

The old house on top of the bluff was in a sheet of lurid flame, lighting up the early evening, which otherwise was quite dark.

Showers of sparks ascended toward the heavens, and the crackling of the dancing blaze made weird music.

Pulling in to sh.o.r.e, Griffith Gregg leaped from the boat, and clambered up the side of the bluff.

The first man he met was Thornton of Leadville, who had fastened up the hut, and hurried to the scene of the conflagration, as soon as he had discovered the light.

The recognition was mutual, and each uttered a cry.

"At last!" the speculator cried, and he bounded forward, and seized his enemy by the throat. Gregg clinched with him, and the two men rolled to the ground, in a fierce struggle, the lurid light of the burning building lighting up the scene like unto the colored fire to some wild exciting drama.

CHAPTER XIII.

CONCLUSION.

The struggle was short and decisive.

Supple though the younger Gregg was, he was no match for the man from Leadville, and it was not long ere Mr. Thornton had his man pinned firmly beneath him, so that he could not move.

By this time the villagers had arrived upon the scene, in numbers, and stood contemplating the scene, in wonder.

"What is the matter here?" one of them demanded, stepping forward.

"Who set fire to this building?"

"That I am not prepared to say, as I just came," Mr. Thornton replied, "but I know that I have captured one of the worst villains living. Is there an officer of the law among you? If so, I want him to take this devil into immediate custody, and watch well that he don't escape."

"I am a constable, but I must first know what charge you have against this young man of highly respected family," another villager said.

"Charges enough to hang him higher than Haman, if you like," the speculator cried. "He has my daughter imprisoned somewhere, in hopes of extorting money from me; he is wanted in Leadville, Colorado, for no less than three cold-blooded murders, and also for horse-theft, and I've got papers to show for it!"

"It's a lie! It's a mistake! This man is crazy!" young Gregg shouted.

"I appeal to you for protection, gentlemen!"

"Protection you shall have, sir, by law, if you deserve it!" the constable replied, slipping a pair of hand-cuffs upon the young man's wrists.

"Now, sir"--to Mr. Thornton--"permit me to examine your papers."

The speculator drew a package of doc.u.ments from an inside coat-pocket, and the officer gave them a critical examination.

"They are all right," he said, returning them.

"For the present, I will leave the scoundrel in your charge--until I recover my lost daughter!" Mr. Thornton said.

"That you will never do, curse you!" Griffith Gregg hissed, savagely.

"You've sealed her doom, in tackling me, and you may as well put a mourning band around your hat."

"What! do you dare to tell me my daughter is in peril, sir?"

"Well, that remains to be told. It is according to whether I am released or not. If not, most a.s.suredly you will never see her or the money she stole, for if I am to answer for all the charges you have preferred against me, I can just as well add a few more, without any inconvenience."

"We shall see about that. I think a rigid search will find her.

Officer, remove him to a place of safety, until I determine upon a future course of action."

The constable accordingly took his departure, marching the younger Gregg with him.

The fire had by this time gained great headway.

It leaped in great crackling volumes from the roof, and burst through the sides in fiery forks. The whole interior was a seething furnace of lurid flame, and timbers were already beginning to fall in.

"Where is Silly Sue?" some one cried, and the question went from mouth to mouth. "She sometimes sleeps in the old house."

"Silly Sue, as you call her, is dead," Mr. Thornton announced.

"Dead!" the villagers exclaimed, gathering around him--"Silly Sue dead?"

"Yes, dead, and lies in the shanty down the road, belonging to Hal Hartly, who has gone to some neighboring town to arrange for her burial!" the speculator said. Then he related what he knew concerning the brutal whipping she had had, at the hands of Gregg senior.

A murmur of indignation ran through the crowd as he spoke, and though some of the men did not cry out against the guilty man, the majority were greatly excited.

"Do you swear this is true?" one of the villagers cried, angrily.

"Ay--swear it a hundred times, if you like. If you have any doubts on the matter, it will take but a few moments to examine the poor child's form, upon which welts and b.l.o.o.d.y cuts yet remain to be seen."

"Then, I for one propose we give Greyville as good as he meted out!"

the man cried, whose name was Tompkins. "I always had a private idea that he was a villain, and now I need no further proof to confirm it.

All in favor of hauling him out and lynching him, make manifest by saying 'I.'"

There was a decisive shout among all but about ten of the men, who maintained a grim silence.

"Lynching is a crime, gentlemen," Mr. Thornton said, "in the East, which would render you liable. It can do no harm to give the human monster a taste of the whip, however, and then turn him over to the rigor of the law."