Alleys of Darkness, Robert E. Howard [ebook offline reader TXT] 📗

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She clung closer to Ace, and Ace said in a low voice, almost a

whisper: “Let her alone, Galt.” His eyes was like fires burning under

the ice.

 

Galt’s muggs was grinning evilly and muttering to theirselves.

Whithers was nervous and kept mopping perspiration. The air was tense.

I was nervous and impatient; something was wrong, and I didn’t know

what. So when Galt started to say something, I took matters into my

own hands.

 

“Bissett,” I said, striding across the room and glaring down at

him, “if they’s a ounce of manhood in you, this here girl’s devotion

oughta touch even your snakish soul. Why don’t you try to redeem

yourself a little, anyway? Kick in with that paper! A man which is

loved by a woman like Glory O’Dale loves you, oughta be above holdin’

a forged confession over a innocent girl’s head.”

 

Bissett’s mouth fell open. “What’s he talking about?” he demanded

from the world at large.

 

“I don’t know,” said Glory uneasily, snuggling closer to him. “He

talked that way out in the other room. I think he’s punch-drunk.”

 

“Dorgan,” said Bissett, “you don’t belong in this crowd. Are you

suffering from some sort of an hallucination?”

 

“Don’t hand me no such guff, you snake!” I roared. “You know why I

brung you here—to get the confession you gypped outa Whithers’

sister, and blackmailed him with—just like you made him throw my

fight tonight.”

 

Bissett just looked dizzy, but Glory leaped up and faced me.

 

“You mean you think Ace made Whithers turn in that rotten

decision?” she jerked out.

 

“I don’t think,” I answered sullenly. “I know. Whithers said so.”

 

She jumped like she was galvanized.

 

“Why, you idiot!” she hollered, “they’ve made a fool of you! Jed

Whithers hasn’t any sister! He lied! Ace had nothing to do with it!

Whithers was hired to throw the fight to Leary! Look at him!” Her

voice rose to a shriek of triumph, as she pointed a accusing finger at

Jed Whithers. “Look at him! Look how pale he is! He’s scared witless!”

 

“It’s a lie!” gulped Whithers, sweating and tearing at his

crumpled collar like it was choking him.

 

“It’s not a lie!” Glory was nearly hysterical by this time. “He

was paid to throw the fight! And there’s the man who paid him!” And

she dramatically pointed her finger at Diamond Joe Galt!

 

GALT WAS ON HIS feet, his small eyes glinting savagely, his jaws

grinding his cigar to a pulp.

 

“What about it, Galt?” I demanded, all at sea and bewildered.

 

He dashed down his cigar with a oath. His face was dark and

convulsed.

 

“What of it?” he snarled. “What you goin’ to do about it? I’ve

stood all the guff out of you I’m goin’ to!”

 

His hand snaked inside his coat and out, and I was looking into

the black muzzle of a wicked stumpy automatic.

 

“You can’t slug this like you did Red, you dumb gorilla,” he

smirked viciously. “Sure, the dame’s tellin’ the truth. Whithers took

you in like a sucklin’ lamb.

 

“When you caught him in your dressin’-room, he told you the first

lie that come to him, knowin’ you for a soft sap where women’s

concerned. Then when you fell for it, and offered to help him, he

thought fast and roped you into this deal. We been tryin’ to get hold

of Bissett for a long time. He’s got somethin’ we want. But he was too

smart and too tough for us. Now, thanks to you, we got him, and the

girl. Now we’re goin’ to sweat what we want out of him, and you’re

goin’ to keep your trap shut, see?”

 

“You mean they ain’t no Constance Whithers, and no confession?” I

said slowly, trying to get things straight. A raucous roar of mirth

greeted the remark.

 

“No, sucker,” taunted Galt; “you just been took in, you sap.”

 

A wave of red swept across my line of vision. With a maddened

roar, I plunged recklessly at Galt, gun and all. Everything happened

at once. Galt closed his finger on the trigger just as Spike, standing

beside him all this time, closed his jaws on Galt’s leg. Galt screamed

and leaped convulsively; the gun exploded in the air, missing me so

close the powder singed my hair, and my right mauler crunched into

Galt’s face, flattening his nose, knocking out all his front teeth,

and fracturing his jaw-bone. As he hit the floor Spike was right on

top of him.

 

The next instant Galt’s thugs was on top of me. We rolled across

the room in a wild tangle of arms and legs, casually shattering tables

and chairs on the way. Spike, finding Galt was out cold, abandoned him

and charged to my aid. I heered Red Partland howl as Spike’s iron

fangs locked in his britches. But I had my hands full. Fists and

hobnails was glancing off my carcass, and a thumb was feeling for my

eye. I set my teeth in this thumb and was rewarded by a squeal of

anguish, but the action didn’t slow up any.

 

It was while strangling Limey Teak beneath me, whilst the other

three was trying to stomp my ribs in and kick my head off, that I

realized that another element had entered into the fray. There was the

impact of a chair-leg on a human skull, and Jed Whithers give up the

ghost with a whistling sigh. Glory O’Dale was taking a hand.

 

Dutch Steinmann next gave a ear-piercing howl, and Bill Reynolds

abandoned me to settle her. Feeling Limey go limp beneath me, I riz,

shaking Steinmann offa my shoulders, just in time to see Reynolds duck

Glory’s chair-leg and smack her down. Bissett give a most awful yell

of rage, but he wasn’t no madder than me. I left the floor in a flying

tackle that carried Reynolds off his feet with a violence which nearly

busted his skull against the floor. Too crazy-mad for reason, I set to

work to hammer him to death, and though he was already senseless, I

would probably of continued indefinite, had not Dutch Steinmann

distracted my attention by smashing a chair over my head.

 

I riz through the splinters and caught him with a left hook that

tore his ear nearly off and stood him on his neck in a corner. I then

looked for Red Partland and seen him crawling out a winder which he’d

tore the shutters off of. He was a rooin; his clothes was nearly all

tore offa him, and he was bleeding like a stuck hawg and bawling like

one, and Spike didn’t show no intentions of abandoning the fray. His

jaws was locked in what was left of Red’s britches, and he had his

feet braced against the wall below the sill. As I looked, Red gave a

desperate wrench and tumbled through the winder, and I heered his

lamentations fading into the night.

 

SHAKING THE BLOOD and sweat outa my eyes, I glared about at the

battlefield, strewn with the dead and dying—at least with the

unconscious, some of which was groaning loudly, whilst others

slumbered in silence.

 

Glory was just getting up, dizzy and wobbly. Spike was smelling

each of the victims in turn, and Ace was begging somebody to let him

loose. Glory wobbled over to where he’d rolled offa the bench, and I

followed her, kinda stiffly. At least one of my ribs had been broke by

a boot-heel. My scalp was cut open, and blood was trickling down my

side, where Limey Teak had made a ill-advised effort to knife me. I

also thought one of them rats had hit me from behind with a club, till

I discovered that sometime in the fray I’d fell on something hard in

my hip pocket. This, I found, was Ace Bissett’s pistol, which I’d

clean forgot all about. I throwed it aside with disgust; them things

is a trap and a snare.

 

I blinked at Ace with my one good eye, whilst Glory worked his

cords offa him.

 

“I see I misjudged you,” I said, lending her a hand. “I

apolergize, and if you want satisfaction, right here and now is good

enough for me.”

 

“Good Lord, man,” he said, with his arms full of Glory. “I don’t

want to fight you. I still don’t know just what it was all about, but

I’m beginning to understand.”

 

I set down somewhat groggily on a bench which wasn’t clean busted.

 

“What I want to know is,” I said, “what that paper was they was

talkin’ about.”

 

“Well,” he said, “about a year ago I befriended a half-cracked

Russian scientist, and he tried in his crazy way to repay me. He told

me, in Galt’s presence, that he was going to give me a formula that

would make me the richest man on earth. He got blown up in an

explosion in his laboratory shortly afterward, and an envelope was

found in his room addressed to me, and containing a formula. Galt

found out about it, and he’s been hounding me ever since, trying to

get it. He thought it was all the Russian claimed. In reality it was

merely the disconnected scribblings of a disordered mind—good Lord,

it claimed to be a process for the manufacture of diamonds! Utter

insanity—but Galt never would believe it.”

 

“And he thought I was dumb,” I cogitated. “But hey, Glory, how’d

you know it was Galt hired Whithers to throw my fight to Leary?”

 

“I didn’t,” she admitted. “I just accused Galt of it to start you

fellows fighting among yourselves.”

 

“Well, I’ll be derned,” I said, and just then one of the victims

which had evidently come to while we was talking, riz stealthily to

his all fours and started crawling towards the winder. It was Jed

Whithers. I strode after him and hauled him to his feet.

 

“How much did Galt pay you for throwin’ the bout to Leary?” I

demanded.

 

“A thousand dollars,” he stuttered.

 

“Gimme it,” I ordered, and with shaking hands he hauled out a fold

of bills. I fluttered ‘em and saw they was intact.

 

“Turn around and look out the winder at the stars,” I commanded.

 

“I don’t see no stars,” he muttered.

 

“You will,” I promised, as I swung my foot and histed him clean

over the sill.

 

As his wails faded up the alley, I turned to Ace and Glory, and

said: “Galt must of cleaned up plenty on this deal, payin’ so high for

his dirty work. This here dough, though, is goin’ to be put to a good

cause. The Old Man lost all his money account of Whithers’ crooked

decision. This thousand bucks will save his ship. Now let’s go. I

wanta get hold of the promoter of the Sweet Dreams, and get another

match tomorrer night with Kid Leary—this time with a honest referee.”

THE END