The Boss of Taroomba

by E. W. Hornung

  CHAPTER XV

  THE NIGHT ATTACK

  "See here, mother!" said Bill. "There's one or two things we want toknow. Spit out the truth, and that'll be all right. Tell us one lie, andthere'll be an end of _you_. Understand?"

  "I ought to."

  "Right you are, then; now you know. What about this key?"

  "She keeps it in her room."

  "Under her pillow, eh?"

  "That I can't say; but she will tell you."

  "So we reckon. Now look here. Will you take your oath there's notanother soul on the premises but you and her?"

  The pair within again held their breath. They must be discovered; butthe longer they could postpone it the shorter would be their danger.Mrs. Potter's heart was stout, however, and her tongue ready.

  "I swear it," she cried, heartily.

  "What makes you so cussed sure?"

  "Why, it stands to reason. By rights there ought to be four of us.That's with Sam Rowntree and Mr. Engelhardt. Sam's gone off on his ownhook somewhere"--Bill chuckled--"but nobody knows where. Mr.Engelhardt's lost, as I told you. So there's nobody left but mistressand me. How could there be?"

  "I don't know or care a curse how there could be. I only know that ifthere _is_, you'll have a pill to take without opening your mouth forit. About this chap that's lost; you'll take your oath he didn't turn upbefore you left the station just now?"

  "I told you he hadn't, as soon as ever you overtook me."

  "You've got to swear it!" said Bill, savagely.

  "I swore it then."

  "So she did," said Simons, who had been grumbling openly during thiscross-examination. "What's the good of going over the same track twice,mate? Let her give us the feed she promised, and then let's get towork."

  "And so say I!" cried the Bo's'n.

  "You shall have your supper in five minutes," said Mrs. Potter, "ifyou'll let me get it."

  "All right, missus," said Bill, after a pause. "Only mind, if we catchyou in any hanky-panky, by God I'll screw your neck till I put your facewhere your back-hair ought to be. Don't you dare get on the cross withus, or there'll be trouble! Come on, chaps. You show the way to thedining-room, mother, and light up; then we'll...."

  The rest sounded indistinct in the store. The low crunching of thefoot-falls in the sandy yard changed to a crisp clatter upon thehomestead veranda. Naomi waited for that sign; then with a white faceand eager hands she began to tear down, prop by prop, the barricade onwhich their very lives depended.

  "She shall not suffer for this, whoever else does," she muttered. "Atleast she sha'n't suffer alone."

  "You mean to open the door?"

  "Yes, and catch her as she passes. To get to the kitchen she must passclose to the store. We'll open the door, and if she's wise she'll passthree or four times without turning her head; she'll wait till they'rewell at work; then she'll come back for something else--and slip in."

  As she spoke Naomi went round to the gun-rack, took down the Winchesterrepeating-rifle, loaded it and came back to the front of the store. Thenshe directed Engelhardt to unlock the door, she helping him to be gentlewith the key. The lock was let back by degrees. A moment later the doorwas wide open, with Naomi standing as in a frame, the Winchester in herhands.

  The station-yard lay bathed and purified in the sweet moonlight. Thewell-palings opposite, and the barracks beyond, were as though newlypainted white. The main building Naomi could not see without putting outher head, for it ran at right angles with the store, and she wasstanding well inside. But the night wind that blew freshly in her facebore upon it the noise of oaths and laughter from the dining-room, andpresently that of footsteps, too. At this Naomi laid a finger on thetrigger and stood like a rock, with the piano-tuner, like its shadow, ather side. But it was only Mrs. Potter who stepped into the moonlight. Sofar all was as Naomi had hoped and calculated.

  But no further. When the poor soul saw the open door she stopped dead,hesitated half a second, and then ran like a heavy doe for it and Naomi.The latter had made adverse signals in vain. She drew aside to let thewoman in, and was also in time to prevent Engelhardt from slamming thedoor. She shut it gently, turned the key with as much care as before,and with a sternly whispered "hush!" kept still to listen. The other twostood as silent, though Mrs. Potter, in the moment of safety and ofreaction, was heaving and quivering all over, shedding tears like rain,and swaying perilously where she stood. But she kept her feet bravelyduring that critical minute; it was but one; the next, a shout oflaughter from the distance made it clear that by a miracle the incidenthad passed unobserved and unsuspected.

  "We may think ourselves lucky," said Naomi, severely. Next moment shehad thrown her arms round the old woman's neck, and was covering herhonest wrinkled face with her tears and kisses.

  The practical Engelhardt was busily engaged in replacing the propsagainst the door. His one hand made him slow at the work. Naomi washerself again in time to help him, and now there was sturdy Mrs. Potterto lend her weight. The supports were soon firmer than ever, withgimlets and bradawls driven into the door above those at the greatestslant, which were thus in most danger of being forced out of place. Thencame a minute's breathing-space.

  "I had just got through the first gate," Mrs. Potter was saying, "when Iheard a galloping, and they were on me. Nay, Miss Naomi, it isn'tanything to be proud of. I just said the first things that came into myhead about you both; there was no time to think. It's only a mercy it'sturned out so well."

  "It was presence of mind," said Naomi. "We have scored an hour throughit, and may another if they are long in missing you. If we can hold outtill morning, someone may ride in from the shed. Don't you hear themtalking still?"

  "Yes; they're more patient than I thought they'd be."

  "They think you're busy in the kitchen. When they find you're not,they'll waste their time looking all over the place for you--everywherebut here."

  "Ay, but they'll come here in the end, and then may the Lord have mercyon our souls!"

  "Come, come. They're not going to get in as easily as all that. And ifthey do, what with the Winchester----"

  "Hush!" said Engelhardt. He was kneeling among the props, with his earclose to the bottom of the door.

  All three listened. The voices were louder and more distinct. The menhad come outside.

  "I don't believe she's there at all," said one. "I see no light."

  "Go you and have a look, Bo's'n. Prick the old squaw up with the p'into' your knife. But if you find her trying to hide, or up to any o' themgames, I'd slit her throat and save the barney."

  "By cripes, so would I!"

  "Ay, ay, messmates, but we'll see--we'll see."

  All the voices were nearer now. Naomi had taken Mrs. Potter's hand, andwas squeezing it white. For some moments they could make out nothingmore. Bo's'n had evidently gone over to the kitchen. The other two weretalking in low tones somewhere near the well-palings. Suddenly a muffledshout from the kitchen reached every ear.

  "She's not here at all."

  "Not there!"

  "Come and look for yourselves."

  "By gock," cried Bill, "let me just get my grip on her fat neck!"

  A moment later the three could be heard ransacking the kitchen, andcalling upon the fugitive to come out, with threats and imprecationsmost horrible to hear even in the distance; but as they drew nearer,working swiftly from out-building to out-building, like ferrets in arabbit-warren, the ferocity of their language rose to such a pitch thatthe hunted woman within fell back faint and trembling upon the counter.Naomi was quick as thought with the flask; but her own cool hand andsteady eyes were as useful as the brandy, and the fit passed as swiftlyas it had come. While it lasted, however, the only one to follow everymove outside was the assiduous Engelhardt. He had not yet risen from hisknees; but he raised himself a little as Mrs. Potter stood uprightagain, supported by Naomi.

  "It's all right," he whispered. "They've no idea where you are. Simonshas had a look in the barracks, and Bo's'n
in the pines. But they'vegiven you up now. They're holding a council of war within five yards ofus!"

  "Let's listen," said Naomi. "Their language won't kill us."

  They had quite given up Mrs. Potter. This was evident from the tail-endof a speech in which Bill bitterly repented not having "stiffened" bothher and Engelhardt at sight.

  "As for getting to the shed," said Simons, who was the obvious authorityon this point, "that'll take her a good hour and a half on foot. It'd bea waste of time and trouble to ride after her, though I'd like to seeBill at work on her--I should so! If she had her horse, it'd be anotherthing."

  "Ay, ay," cried the Bo's'n. "Let the old gal rip."

  Bill had been of the same opinion a moment before; but this indecentreadiness to be beaten by an old woman was more than he could share orbear. He told his mate so in highly abusive terms. They retorted that hewas beaten by that same old woman himself. Bill was not so sure of that;what about the bedroom with the boots outside? Nobody had looked inthere.

  A brisk debate ensued, in which the voice of Simons rose loudest. Bill,on the other hand, spoke in a much lower tone than usual; his words didnot penetrate into the store; it was as though they were meant not to.And yet it was Bill who presently cried aloud:

  "Then that's agreed. We all three go together to rouse her up anyhow,whether the old gal's there or whether she isn't. Come on!"

  Apparently they went then and there.

  "Nice for me!" whispered Naomi. "Nice for us both, Mrs. Potter, if weweren't safe----"

  A bovine roar seemed to burst from their very midst. It was Bill outsidethe door.

  "Tricked 'em, by God!" he yelled. "Here they are. Never mind that room.I tell you they're here--both of 'em; I heard 'em whispering."

  "Bill, you're a treat," said the Bo's'n, running up. "I never saw such aman----"

  "Where's Simons?"

  "He was bound to have a look for hisself. Here he comes. Well, messmate,where is she?"

  "Not there," cried Simons, with an oath. "The room's as empty as we are.There's been no one in it all night."

  Bill laughed.

  "I knew that, matey. You might have saved yourself the trouble when Isang out. She's--in--here." And he kicked the store door three timeswith all his might.

  "Who is?" said Simons.

  "Both on 'em. What did I tell you? They started whisperin' the momentthey thought we'd sheered off."

  "They're not whisperin' now," said Simons, at the keyhole. "By cripes,let's burst the door in!"

  "Hold on," said Bill. "If they're not born fools they'll listen toreason. Out o' the light, matey. See here, ladies, if you walk out nowyou may live to spin the yarn, but if you don't--" He broke away intonameless blasphemies.

  The cruel voice came hoarse and hot through the keyhole. Engelhardtopened his mouth to reply, but Naomi clapped a warm palm upon it, andwith the other hand signalled silence to Mrs. Potter.

  "We've given 'em their chance," said Bill, after a pause. "Come on,chaps. One, two, all together--now!"

  There was a stampede of feet in the shallow veranda, and then a thud anda crash, as the three men hurled themselves against the door. But fortheir oaths outside, in the store it was as though nothing hadhappened. Not a timber had given, not a prop was out of place. Naomi'swhite face wore a smile, which, however, was instantly struck out by aloud report and a flash through the keyhole.

  Engelhardt crouched lower, picked something from the floor, and passedit up to Naomi in his open hand.

  She carried it into the moonlight. It was a wisp of the musician's longhair, snipped out by the bullet.

  They stood aside from the keyhole. More bullets came through, but all atthe same angle. The women caught up a sack of flour, rolled it over thecounter, and with Engelhardt's help jammed it between the props, so thatthe top just covered the keyhole. Next moment there was a rush againstthe door, and for the second time all the harm was done to thebesiegers, not the besieged.

  "We'll be black and blue before we've anything to show for it!" theyheard the Bo's'n groaning.

  "There's more than women in this," said Bill. "There's that spawn that Ishould have strung up if it hadn't been for you two white-feathers. It'syourselves you've got to thank for this. I might have known it themoment I caught sight o' that lump o' lard on horseback. The swine'sbeen in here all the time!"

  "He has!" shouted Engelhardt at the top of his excited voice; "and it'swhere you'll never get, not a man of you! You take that from me!"

  For a short space there was a hush outside. Then arose such a storm ofcurses and foul threats that the women within put their fingers in theirears. When they withdrew them, all was silence once more, and this timeit lasted.

  "They must have gone for something!" exclaimed Naomi.

  "They have," said the piano-tuner, coolly. "A battering-ram!"

  "Then now's our time," cried the girl. "It's absurd to think of ourbeing cooped up here with any quantity of fire-arms, and no chance ofusing one of them! First we must light up. Chop that candle in two, Mrs.Potter. It'll see us through to daybreak, and there's nothing to keepdark any longer, so the more light now the better. Ah, here's thetool-box, and yes! here's the brace and bits. Now this is my littleplan."

  She took the brace, fitted it with the largest bit, and was making forthe door.

  "What are you going to do?" said Engelhardt.

  "Make a loop-hole to fire through."

  "And for them to fire through, too!"

  "Well, that can't be helped."

  "Excuse me, I think it can. I've been puzzling the thing out for thelast hour. I've a better plan than that!"

  "Let me hear it."

  "A tomahawk!"

  She gave him one from the tool-box.

  "May I hack the roofing a bit?"

  "As much as ever you like."

  "Now a pile of boxes--here--just at the left of the door--and four feethigh."

  The women had it ready in a twinkling. They then helped him to clamberto the top--no easy matter with an arm that was not only useless, but animpediment at every turn. When he stood at his full height his headtouched the corrugated iron some twenty inches from the obtuse anglebetween roof and wall.

  He reached out his hand for the tomahawk, and at the height of his eyeshe hacked a slit in the iron, prising the lower lip downward until hecould see well out into the yard. Then, a handbreadth above the angle,he made a round hole with the sipke of the tomahawk, and called for arevolver. Naomi produced a pair. He took one, and worked the barrel inthe round hole until it fitted loosely enough to permit of training.Then he looked down. There was no sign of the thieves.

  "Have you plenty of cartridges, Miss Pryse?"

  "Any amount."

  "Well, I don't expect to spill much blood with them; but, on the otherhand, I'm not likely to lose any myself." The work and the danger hadcombined to draw his somewhat melancholy spirit out of itself. Orperhaps it was not the danger itself, but the fact that he shared itwith Naomi Pryse. Whatever the cause, the young man was morelight-hearted than was his wont. "They'll fire at the spot I fire from,"he explained, with a touch of pride; "they'll never think of my eyesbeing two feet higher up, and their bullets must strike the roof at suchan angle that no charge on earth would send them through. Mind, it'll bethe greatest fluke if I hit them; but they aren't to know that; and atany rate I may keep them out of worse mischief for a time."

  "You may and you will," said Naomi, enthusiastically. "But still weshall want my loop-hole!"

  "Why so?"

  "The veranda!"

  For some moments Engelhardt said nothing. When at last he found hisvoice it was to abuse himself and his works with such unnecessaryviolence that again that soft warm palm lay for an instant across hislips. His pride in his own ingenuity had been cruelly humbled, for hehad to confess that he had entirely forgotten to reckon with thestore-veranda, a perfect shelter against even the deadliest fusilladefrom his position.

  "Very well," he cried at last. "We'll dril
l a hole through the door, butwe must drill it near the top, and at an angle, so that they can't put abullet through it at a distance."

  "Then let me do it," said Naomi. She sprang upon the flour-bag, and thehole was quickly made. Still the men did not return. "Lucky thing Iremembered the axe in time!" she continued, remaining where she was."They would have hacked in the door in no time with that. I say, Mr.Engelhardt, this is my post. I mean to stick here."

  "Never!" he cried.

  "But you can't work both revolvers."

  "Well, then, let us change places. You'll probably shoot straighter thanI should. I'll stand on the flour-bag with the barrel of the otherrevolver through the hole you've made. If any one of them gets in a linewith it----well, there'll be a villain less!"

  "And Mrs. Potter shall load for us," cried Naomi. "Do you know how?"

  "Can't say I do, miss."

  "Then I'll show you."

  This was the work of a moment. The old bush-woman was handy enough, andcool enough too, now that she was getting used to the situation. It washer own idea to bring round the storekeeper's tall stool, to plant itamong the props, within reach of Naomi on the boxes and of Engelhardt onthe flour-bag, and to perch herself on its leather top with the box ofcartridges in her lap. Thus prepared and equipped, this strange garrisonwaited for the next assault.

  "Here they come," cried Naomi at last, with a sudden catch in her voice."They're carrying a great log they must have fished out from the verybottom of the wood-heap. All the top part of the heap was small wood,and I guess they've wasted some more time in hunting for the axe. Buthere they are!" She pushed her revolver through the slit in the roof,and the sharp report rang through the store.

  "Hit anybody?" said Engelhardt next moment.

  "No. They're stopping to fire back. Ah, you were right."

  As she spoke there was a single report, followed by three smart raps onthe sloping roof. The bullet had ricochetted like a flat stone flungupon a pond. Another and another did the same, and Naomi answered everyshot.

  "For God's sake take care!" cried the piano-tuner.

  "I am doing so."

  "Hit any one yet?"

  "Not yet; it's impossible to aim; and they've never come nearer than thewell-palings. Ah!"

  "What now?"

  "They're charging with the log."

  Engelhardt slipped his revolver into his pocket, and grasped the shelfthat jutted out over the lintel. He felt that the shock would be severe,and so it was. It came with a rush of feet and a volley of loud oaths--acrash that smashed the lock and brought three of the clothes-propsclattering to the ground. But those secured by gimlet and bradawl stillheld; and though the lower part of the door had given an inch the upperfitted as close as before, and the hinges were as yet uninjured.

  "One more does it!" cried Bill. "One more little rush like the last, andthen, by God, if we don't make the three of you wish you was well dead,send me to quod again for ten year! Aha, you devil with the pistol! Verynice you'd got it arranged, but it don't cover us here. No, no, we'vegot the bulge on you now, you swine you! And you can't hit us, neither!We're going to give you one chance more when we've got our breath--justone, and then----"

  By holding on to the shelf when the crash came Engelhardt had managed tostand firm on the flour-bag. Seeing that the door still held, thoughbadly battered, he had put his eye to the loop-hole bored by Naomi, andit had fallen full on Bill. A more bestial sight he had never seen, noteven in the earlier hours of that night. The bloated face was swimmingwith sweat, and yet afire with rage and the lust for blood. Thecross-eyes were turned toward the holes in the roof, hidden from them bythe veranda, and the hairy fist with the four fingers was beingsavagely shaken in the same direction. The man was standing but a footfrom the door, and when Engelhardt removed his eye and slipped hispistol-barrel in the place, he knew that it covered his midriff, thoughall that he could see through the half-filled hole was a fragment of theobscene, perspiring face. It was enough to show him the ludicrous changeof expression which followed upon a sudden lowering of the eyes and afirst glimpse of the protruding barrel. Without a moment's hesitationEngelhardt pressed the trigger while Bill was stupidly repeating:

  "And then--and then----"

  A flash cut him short, and as the smoke and the noise died away,Engelhardt, removing the pistol once more and applying his eye, saw thewounded brute go reeling and squealing into the moonshine with his handto his middle and the blood running over it. To the well-palings hereeled, dropping on his knees when he got there, but struggling to hisfeet and running up and down and round and round like a mad bull, stillscreaming and blaspheming at the top of his voice, and with the bloodbubbling over both his hands, which never ceased to hug his wound. Hismates rushed up to him, but he beat them off, cursing them, spitting atthem, and covering them with blood as he struck at them with his soakingfists. It was their fault. They should have let him have his way. Hewould have done for that hell-begotten swine who had now done for him.It was they who had killed him--his own mates--and he told them so withshrieks and curses, varied with sobs and tears, and yet again with wildshots from a revolver which he plucked from his belt. But he dropped thepistol after madly discharging it twice, and clapping his hand to hismiddle, as though he could only live by pressing the wound with all hisforce, he rushed after them, foaming at the mouth and squirting blood atevery stride. At last he seemed to trip, and he fell forward in a heap,but turned on one side, his knees coming up with a jerk, his feettreading the air as though running still. And for some seconds they socontinued, like the screws of a foundering steamer; then he rolled overheavily; his two companions came up at a walk; one of them touched himwith his foot; and Engelhardt stepped down from the flour-bag with amouth that had never relaxed, and a frown that had never gone.

  Naomi was no longer standing on the boxes; but she was sitting on them,with her face in her hands; and in the light of the two candle-ends,Mrs. Potter was watching her with a white dazed face.

  "Cheer up!" said Engelhardt. "The worst is over now."

  "Is he dead?" said Naomi, uncovering her face.

  "As dead as a man can be."

  "And you shot him?"

  She knew that he had; but the thing seemed incredible as she sat andlooked at him; and by the time it came fully home to her, the littlemusician was inches taller in her eyes.

  "Yes, I shot the brute; and I'll shoot that shearer, too, if I get halfa chance."

  Naomi felt nervous about it, and sufficiently shocked. She was dubiouslyremarking that they had not committed murder, when she was roughlyinterrupted.

  "Haven't they!"

  "Whom have they murdered?"

  "You'll see."

  "I know!" cried Mrs. Potter, with sudden inspiration; but even as theylooked at her, a voice was heard shouting from a respectful distanceoutside.

  "We're going," it cried. "We've had enough of this, me and Simons have.Only when they find that chap in the paddock, recollect it was Bill thathung him. But for us he'd have hung you, too!"

  They listened very closely, but they heard no more. Then Naomi stood upto look through the slit in the roof.

  "The yard is empty," she cried. "Their horses are gone! Oh, Mr.Engelhardt--Mr. Engelhardt--we are saved!"