SHORT STORIES.

Otago Witness, Issue 3595, 6 February 1923, Page 66

SHORT STORIES.

THE BLACK STAR GANG.

By

M. ALXENDER.

[Copyright.] •Tin afraid,” said Kathleen plaintively, “if Ynyr doesn't come back before it gets dark I shall die of fright.” . “There is nothing to frighten you, said I, with more contempt than 1 te fnr we were new to the bush and its strange brooding silence had told heavily «-Vrt. o ”eS™'.he two wonth. which had elapsed since our arrival on m> brother's’ 'election', a homb.e «“P3“ increased daily a ■">' d^wrir»f»S.u ;i twO e tiehet. bounng range, for the an action which m • le chances were that the jug w been alone thieves. Kathleen a t heat, f ea r, that young policeman who was near ’ft.’aSffifm V ‘><-‘oS" battered travesty of him—a dusty, stained, ragged figure, B way g dg tfS C a C n°d d th h en Wed Sowly down over her shoulder into the sand. “Pie’s Kathleen began to cry u„aincome to tell us that Ynvr has been mur SESd ” she sob-bed, clutching at me as 1 “?.^Do™n'd“Sd"h , Srup alter a D r.%.ood"ith one arm ove, h» mare's withers grimacing horriDiy. ‘’Water ” he whispered, * ‘water, an thmi as I ran to get it, added ‘‘a fresh horse —I want a fresh horse. as I “We haven't a horse, I said, as handed him the glass. g* muttered “No horse— good God! life muttered you aren’t fit to ride,” I put 1D “I must,” he answered. “The Black Star gang from the diggings are after me —I gave ’em the slip at Myall Gully. Mv heart sank still further. Myall Gully was a bare five miles away, and the ieputa_ tion of the Black Star gang—a band of ruffians who had terrorised the whole district—had come luridly to us on various aide-winds. * “Mr {smith, the inspector, didn t pass here I suppose?” asked the young man after a second’s silence. ‘‘He didn t ve But the sentence went unfinished, and a second later the speaker slipped down in a heap under his mare’s chest. He was a light little man, and Kathleen and I got him into the house between us. The reason for his pursuit came to light as we were trying to staunch the bullet wounds—a small leather bag hung round his neck, containing about thirty magnificent unset diamonds and a letter addressed to the Governor of Fort Swan. While I was refastening the bag Kathleen came in from the verandah. “There’s a man galloping up to this house,- Nuala. I suppose it’s Mr Smith, the inspector,” she gasped with a shuddering glance at the wounded man. A minufe later I heard the dick of spurs, the gruff note of a voice, and Kathleen’s eager soft tones raised in incoherent explanation. “Oh ! Nuala, that poor policeman has a .bag of diamonds on him,’’ she exclaimed, as she pushed open the kitchen door. I looked beyond her to the figure of Mr Smith, the inspector, which loomed on the threshold. He was heavily built, unshaven man, in an- ill-fitting uniform buttoned awry. “There are half a dozen scoundrels on my heels,” he said, glancing first at the limp figure on the floor and then at me, “Have you a horse? None? Oh! damnation !” Before I could speak, Kathleen, who had slipped out again on to the> verandah, cried, “Mr Smith, two men are Tunning across the horse-yard towards the house.’’ Mr Smith jumped; his hand went to h» oelt. “vYe’ll have to hold the place, against them,” he said, hoarsely. “If they get in it’s all up with meour share of the danger apparently concerned him little. Before I could lay down the sponge which I had been using on O’Donnell’s wound, the inspector had dashed into the room off the kitchen that Kathleen and T sliareu, and I heard the shutters banged there also. I sprang up and flew to bolt, bar and lock both doors of the house. It was a long, low, primitive threeroomed building with a verandah in front. There were five points at which the enemy could attack us simultaneously. When it was all done, shutters shut, doors .barred, we stood, the inspector and I, an!* looked at one another in the hot, dim kitchen. Each knew that the other was afraid. “Those shutters, they’ll go first,” whispered the inspector, “can you make any hand of a pistol ” Mr Smith handed me one with the shakiest fingers it has ever been my ill lot to see. “It’s loaded, you’ve only got to cock it,” he stuttered. “No row—as quiet and quick as you can, boys,” said a voice suddenly outside the back door. “By God, but he’ll pay for this when we catch him !’’ “How many of the gang are there, Mr Smitn . ’ I whispered.

“Six, he muttered, rubbing his wet forehead with his left sleeve, “No, five. My God, if they get in I’ll blow my brains out!” I conceived a sudden dislike of the man—more, a sudden contempt. Plainly, if my own life, or my sister’s were to be saved we must compass the matter ourselves. All the sounds made outside were audible through the log walls, and to follow our enemies’ movements was easy. As a result of a council of war, a bang earne at the door, and a voice called —“Miss O'Malley!” “Don’t answer,” whispered the inspector. “Miss O’Malley,” called the voice again, and then with an oath, “The d d girl ain t there I believe.” “On’y Harry and that blasted young trap maybe,’’ suggested another. They aren’t very respectful in their reference to you, are they, Mr Smith,” I murmured. j-iie inspector’s face contorted in a strange fashion. ‘Set to on the door, boys. What in hell are you waiting for,” cried a third voice angrily. The programme seemed too much for Mr Smith, who turned fiercely to me. “Any whiskey in the house?” he ashed. I pointed to the bottle which stood on the floor near the young policeman’s limp body. Mr Smith picked it up, and applied his lips to the mouth without ceremony. it was then that I noticed a sudden "iCKer of the wounded man’s eyelids. He opened his eyes for a second," and then grimaced at me in the manner of a person Dying to convoy an unspoken message. ’ What is it?” I asked. O’Donnell frowned and flung a ouick. wary glance at Mr Smith—and then, as the inspector turned, shut his eyes again. Any sign of that fellow coining to?” asked Mr Smith. None,” said I, acting on an impulse which I hardly understood. “I think he’s dead.” “You damned little liar,”* he said viciously. “I thought there was something between you two—clear out o’ that!” .h e stopped as he spoke, flung me violently aside, and dropped on one knee beside Brian O’Donnell. A sudden solution of the mystery flashed into my mind ; the inspector’s cowardice, his untidy appearance, his desperate haste, tile reference to him as “Harry” by the scoundrels outside, the glance and the grimace of O’Donnell, who, ten minutes earner had shown such anxiety to meet him, all pointed to one thing, an impersonation of the real Mr Smith bv soma rogue or other. " I was not given long to speculate on the matter. The pseudo-inspector had set to work to tear open the young man’s tunic with an utter disregard for his condition that confirmed me in my belief, and in order to have both hands free laid his pistol down on the floor. I crouching where I had fallen, saw one f G Donnell’s limn hands move cautiously trom his side towards the weapon saw it reach down and close on the butt. Then there came a flounder, an oath from Mr Smith, a second during which two writhing forms wrestled together on the floor and a cracking pistol shot. The smoke as it lifted, showed a quivermg, rigid body still jerking with the last eddies of life, and beyond it O’Donnell's grey, blood-stained face lit bv fierce triumph. He murdered the inspector,” he said slowly. _ “’Tis Black Star himself—no less —the ring-leader, and the biggest scoundrel of em I suppose he had it in his mind to steal a march on the others and collar all the swag.” Is is he dead ?” I whispered. O'Donnell nodded. “There’s ten of bu. fellows coming up bv Myall Gully after this gang, ’ he said huskily, “and if we can only hold the house half an hour we’ll nab the lot.” His voice broke on the last word. The struggle had started the haemorrhage again and after a second he slipped back ‘ in a helpless heap on the floor. While I was trying, furtively, to think of some remedy, a fearful crash," which made me jump and Kathleen shriek, shook the room. A furious attack had commenced on both doors simultaneously. It seemed to last for an hour, and then all at once ceased with a suddenness that was nerverenu,ng. Take a try at the windows, boys. Them doors is too tough,” suggested a voice from outside. Let s all get into the inner room, Kitty, and make a barricade against both tne door and t-ne window,” I su°‘f r os,ted in a whisper. As a pushed her in a loud crack announced that the garden door was bein<* assailed, and that it had splifcA wild idea of handing them the diamonds occurred to me. The difficulty lay in conveying the jewels to the bloo<;l----tmrsty crew outside, and there was, too, the proDa,bility that they would in any case consider it prudent to remove the witnesses of their crime. While i was meditating on this O’Donnell moved his head slightly. His hands went to the breast of his coat, as if feeling for the bag. He rolled over, and then slowly and laboriously began \to crawl towards the threshold of the inner room, making a black track of blood across the boards. The enemy, foiled by the iron shutters, had all concentrated on the garden door. The exertion of dragging himself along exhausted U Donnell’s remaining strength. He could only lie inert half a foot beyond the threshold and watch my frenzied movements as I flung to the door and dragged our two camp beds over to it. Then, the barricade achieved, I looked round at O’Donnell. I found him, rather to my surprise, again fumbling at his precious leather bag. “Take youir boot and break that there bottle in small bits,” he gasped, pointing to a small cut-glass salts bottle. I obeyed mechanically, hardly even wondering what he wanted. “That 11 do—not to small !” he whispered, tnting out the diamonds on to the floor.

I saw his plan then. The cut glass fragments really looked not unlike diamonds. “Ignorant devils like them won’t guess,’’ he said, holding out the wash-leather bag in shaking, blood-stained fingers, so that I might slip the right number of bits in. “What are we to do with the real stones:" 1 whispered. For answer he stretched out his left arm across my knee, showing a long, hideous gash running straight up from wrist to elDow. “Push ’em in there. Tie a bit o’ linen over it,’’ he said huskily. I averted my eyes. “vjo on, Miss O'Malley—for God’s sake,” he panted. “I’m about done, God ! There goes tne kitchen door! Quick ! Quick !’’ A crash and a cheer drowned the last word. In face of his courage and loyalty I could hardly hesitate, but I draw the line at attempting to describe my sensations as I pushed diamond after diamond into toe purple, quivering, flesh. As r gave the bandage, improvised out of the broad hem of my petticoat, a last twist, a torrent of stamping, cursing, humanity surged into the kitchen. A minute’s search showed them that the diamonds were not concealed about Smith’s body, and. they then set to work to ravage the ...Alien, flinging everything in it to right and left. “They re mad !” croaked O’Donnell, hoarsely. You two ladies had better* get into that press there, it’s your only chance. Here’s my pistol with two bullets in it, in case they find you. See.” “What’ll you do yourself ?” I whispered. “I’ve Smith’s six-shooter here. I’ll make one or two pay for this bit o’ work, never you fear,” he whispered back grimly. , I took Kathleen, who was leaning up against the wall, by the arm. She was quite rigid and only just capable of obeying suggestions mechanically, like a. person in a mesmeric trance, and when I pushed her into the cupboard—a large wooden one lined with tin—and made her lie flat on the bottom shelf with a blanket over her, she offered no protest of any sort, though to fit in at all necessitated the contortion of her whole body. It was even worse for me, for I was an inch taller and could only squeeze myself oil to the upper shelf on top of boots, books, medicine bottles, by drawing up my knees to my chin, and bending by head agonisingly. However, in the end I managed, too, to draw to the cupboard doors and lock them on the inside, and then sat huddled up, listening desperately, with the, pistol butt cold against my wrist and a broken bottle cutting my ankle. Sounds came to us—muffled and indistinct —until the gang commenced their attack on the bedroom door about which there could be no mistake. Apparently they brought the axe into play at once, for I heard a heavy thud, thud, thud, and a noise of wood splintering. > 0 Donnell reserved his fire until the door gave, but on top of the crash and the cheer that accompanied it, came the sharp crack of a pistol and a long, horrible scream. Twice the crack was repeated very quickly, and then there came a fourth shot and a little croaking cough so close to the press that I knew it could only mean one tuing. In fear, as in everything else, there are degrees—-steps as it were from that vague uneasiness to the last cold, hideous paralysis of mind and body when *even a sense of humiliation has gone by the board. I thought I had tested every stage on the bitter road since that moment half an hour bexore, when Brian O’Donnell had ridden up to our hut, but now, as I heard the murderers kicking their wav with oaths through tile ruins of the door, I realised there was yet another—and one worse than any of its predecessors. I lost all control of my thoughts. An insane desire to cry out took possession of me; my hands opened of themselves and let fall "the key of the press and the pistol. One or other upset one of the bottles wtnen were propped precariously against various portions of my bodv. ' The bottle clicked against a tin billy "and both together travelled rapidly across my breast, like an avalanche on a hillside, and crashed against the door of the press. A sudden horrible silence fell on the room. “wiio jogged that d d press,” demanded a startled voice. Several others announced with oaths that no one had jogged the press, no one had gone near it. > This assertion led to a. heated and angry discussion which was, however, cut short by a fourth voice. “Here they are, boys, here they are under the darned skunk’s carcase. " I have ’em, bag and all,” he shouted. A clatter of feet proclaimed that all had rushed to look at the find. Mighty like glass,’’ grunted one. Glass be d d,” retorted a brother-in-arms. Worth five hundred quid apiece or more, w e’d better clear out now we’ve got ’em.'’ My heart gave a sickening bound ; if only they, would go ! J But the elation was short lived. “Burst open that press, Bob, afore we clear—-might be something worth takin’ in it, commanded a hoarse voice, and a second later the press quivered under a resounding kick. The usual argument followed. “Take the axe to it, you fool.” Axe be d d. Bust open the darned thing yerself. ” “Here, clear out o’ that!” Bob’s clearinnr out apparently took the form of falling heavily for the "whole press shook. His companion of the axe went to work, and after a long, agonising second, I saw the faint thread of light which had the place where the doors met spread out into a broad band. What happened after that I scarcely know. A wet, hairy hand plucked me forth, and an avalanche of books, boots, and broken glass showered about me as I fell to the floor—a circumstance highly gratifying to the audience. Between cramp and fear I was quite beyond movement, I could not even think of Kathleen.

One man, he of the hoarse voice, stood a seconu looking down at me. Then he spoke regretfully. “There’s not time or we might have some fun with this little heifer. We’ll sling her into the water hole, the way she won't tell tales. Come on ! His two companions had stopped, one to pick up the pistol and the other the tin bifly. A fourth man lay among the legs of my overturned bedstead, within hand’s touch of Brian O’Donnell’s body, rwocking himself slowly to and fro, but making no sound. As we went through the kitchen I saw another rigid figure lying near the shattered door. A measure of coherence was returning to me. i realised two things.—one that they had missed Kathleen under the rugs on the bottom shelf. The other that O’Donnell had made a good fight of it at the last. Curiously enough, the thought of the water hole didn’t worry me at a.x . It was so much better than what I had expected. Well, we marched through the dim kitchen and through the shattered garden door and out into the red-hot shimmering sunught beyond—l was hauled like a sack by one arm, and ui’ged from behind bv an occasional kick. Just as we reached the fence that divided the garden from a belt of scrub, I heard the thud of hoofs and tfm click of a pistol being cocked. The man who held me stopned so suddenly that the two men bumped into him, and I, looking up mechanically without any hope, saw right on top of us half a dozen policemen on lathered horses; the help of which Brian O’Donnell had spoken twenty-five minutes’ before.