(Nods.)
Hallo! What was that? Oh! Jackson in the counting-room getting to
bed. I'll look at that front door myself. (Takes revolver from
desk and goes to door C., tries lock, comes down stage with
revolver, examines it, and lays it down.)
Oakhurst (slowly and quietly.) The door is locked on the outside:
that may have been an accident. The caps are taken from my pistol:
THAT was not! Well, here is the vault, and here is John Oakhurst:
to reach the one, they must pass the other.
(Takes off his coat, seizes poker from grate, and approaches safe.)
Ha! some one is moving in the old man's room. (Approaches door of
room R. as--
Enter noiselessly and cautiously from room L., PRITCHARD, SILKY,
and SOAPY. PRITCHARD and his confederates approach OAKHURST from
behind, carrying lariat, or slip-noose.
Oakhurst (listening at door R.) Good. At least I know from what
quarter to expect the attack. Ah!
PRITCHARD throws slip-noose over OAKHURST from behind; OAKHURST
puts his hand in his breast as the slip-noose is drawn across his
bosom, pinioning one arm over his breast, and the other at his
side. SILKY and SOAPY, directed by PRITCHARD, drag OAKHURST to
chair facing front, and pinion his legs. PRITCHARD, C., regarding
him.
Oakhurst (very coolly). You have left me my voice, I suppose,
because it is useless.
Pritchard. That's so, pard. 'Twon't be no help to ye.
Oakhurst. Then you have killed Jackson.
Pages:
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111