THE NEXT MOMENT SOME ONE WAS SEEN HOLDING A LAMP IN HIS HAND
THE CAMPERS OUT OR THE RIGHT PATH AND THE WRONG
BY
EDWARD S. ELLIS, A. M.
Jim McGovern was poring over his lesson one afternoon in the Ashton public school, perplexed by the thought that unless he mastered the problem on which he was engaged he would be kept after the dismissal of the rest, when he was startled by the fall of a twisted piece of paper on his slate.
He looked around to learn its starting point, when he observed Tom Wagstaff, who was seated on the other side of the room, peeping over the top of his book at him. Tom gave a wink which said plainly enough that it was he who had flipped the message so dexterously across the intervening space.
Jim next glanced at the teacher, who was busy with a small girl that had gone to his desk for help in her lessons. The coast being clear, so to speak, he unfolded the paper and read:
“Meat Bill Waylett and me after scool at the cross roads, for the bizness is of the utmoast importants dont fale to be there for the iurn is hot and we must strike be4 it gits cool.
Tom.”
The meaning of this note, despite its Volapük construction, was clear, and Jim felt that he must be on hand at all hazards.
So the urchin applied himself with renewed vigor to his task, and, mastering it, found himself among the happy majority that were allowed to leave school at the hour of dismissal. A complication, however, arose from the fact that the writer of the note was one of those who failed with his lesson, and was obliged to stay with a half-dozen others until he recited it correctly.
Thus it happened that Jim McGovern and Billy Waylett, after sauntering to the crossroads, which had been named as the rendezvous, and waiting until the rest of the pupils appeared, found themselves without their leader.
But they were not compelled to wait long, when the lad, who was older than they, was seen hurrying along the highway, eager to meet and explain to them the momentous business that had led him to call this special meeting.
“Fellers,” said he, as he came panting up, “let’s climb over the fence and go among the trees.”
“What for?” asked Billy Waylett.
“It won’t do for anybody to hear us.”
“Well, they won’t hear us,” observed Jim McGovern, “if we stay here, for we can see any one a half mile off.”
“But they might sneak up when we wasn’t watching,” insisted the ringleader, who proceeded to scale the fence in the approved style of boyhood, the others following him.
Tom led the way for some distance among the trees, and then, when he came to a halt, peered among the branches overhead, and between and behind the trunks, to make sure no cowens were in the neighborhood.
Finally, everything was found to be as he wished, and he broke the important tidings in guarded undertones.
“I say, boys, are you both going to stick?”
“You bet we are,” replied Billy, while Jim nodded his head several times to give emphasis to his answer.
“Well, don’t you think the time has come to strike?”
“I’ve been thinking so for two—three weeks,” said Billy.
“What I asked you two to meet me here for was to tell you that I’ve made up my mind we must make a move. Old Mr. Stearns, our teacher, is getting meaner every day; he gives us harder lessons than ever, and this afternoon he piled it on so heavy I had to stay after you fellers left. If Sam Bascomb hadn’t sot behind me, and whispered two or three of them words, I would have been stuck there yet.”
“He come mighty nigh catching me, too,” observed Jim McGovern.
“You know we’ve made up our minds to go West to shoot Injuns, and the time has come to go.”
The sparkle of the other boys’ eyes and the flush upon their ruddy faces showed the pleasure which this announcement caused. The bliss of going West to reduce the population of our aborigines had been in their dreams for months, and they were impatient with their chosen leader that he had deferred the delight so long. They were happy to learn at last that the delay was at an end.
“Now I want to know how you fellers have made out,” said Tom, with an inquiring look from one to the other.
“I guess you’ll find we’ve done purty well,” said Jim; “anyways I know I have; I stole my sister’s gold watch the other night and sold it to a peddler for ten dollars.”
“What did you do with the ten dollars?”
“I bought a revolver and a lot of cartridges. Oh! I tell you I’m primed and ready, and I’m in favor of not leaving a single Injun in the West!”
“Them’s my idees,” chimed Billy Waylett.
“Well, how have you made out, Billy?”
“I got hold of father’s watch, day before yesterday, but he catched me when I was sneaking out of the house and wanted to know what I was up to. I told him I thought it needed cleaning and was going to take it down to the jeweler’s to have it ’tended to.”
“Well, what then?”
Billy sighed as he said, meekly:
“Father said he guessed I was the one that needed ’tending to, and he catched me by the nape of the neck, and, boys, was you ever whipped with a skate strap?”
His friends shook their heads as an intimation that they had never been through that experience.
“Well, I hope you never will; but, say,” he added, brightening up, “mother has a way of leaving her pocket-book layin’ round that’s awful mean, ’cause it sets a fellow to wishing for it. Pop makes her an allowance of one hundred dollars a month to run things, and last night I scooped twenty dollars out of her pocket-book, when it laid on the bureau in her room.”
“Did she find it out?” asked Tom Wagstaff.
“Didn’t she? Well, you had better believe she did, and she raised Cain, but I fixed things.”
“How?” asked his companions, deeply interested.
“I told her I seen Kate, our hired girl, coming out of the room on tip-toe, just after dark. Then mother went for Kate, and she cried and said she wouldn’t do a thing like that to save her from starving. It didn’t do no good, for mother bounced her.”
No thought of the burning injustice done an honest servant entered the thought of any one of the three boys. They chuckled and laughed, and agreed that the trick was one of the brightest of the kind they had ever known. Could the other two have done as well, the party would have been on their Westward jaunt at that moment.
“I’ve sometimes thought,” said Tom Wagstaff, “that the old folks must have a ’spicion of what’s going on, for they watch me so close that I haven’t had a chance to steal a dollar, and you know it will never do to start without plenty of money; but I’ve a plan that’ll fetch ’em,” he added, with a meaning shake of his head.
“What is it?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute; you see I’ve got everything down fine, and I’ve made some changes in our plans.”
His companions listened closely.
“You know that when we got through reading that splendid book, ‘Roaring Ralph, the Cyclone of the Rockies,’ we made up our minds that we must have two revolvers and a Winchester repeating rifle apiece before we started?”
The others nodded, to signify that they remembered the understanding.
“I was talking with a tramp the other day, who told me that he spends each winter among the Rocky Mountains killing Injins, and it’s the biggest kind of fun. He says he steals up to a camp where there’s ’bout fifty or a hundred of ’em, and makes a noise like a grizzly bear. That scares ’em so they all jump up and run for the woods. He takes after them and chases ’em till they climb the trees. Then, when they are all trying to hide among the limbs, beggin’ for their lives, he begins. He takes his place in the middle, and keeps popping away until he has dropped ’em all. He says he has to stop sometimes to laugh at the way they come tumbling down, a good many of ’em falling on their heads. One time he treed forty-seven of ’em where the ground was soft and swampy. Twelve of the bravest Injin warriors turned over in falling through the limbs and struck on their scalps. The ground bein’ soft, they sunk down over their shoulders, and stayed there wrong-side up. He said he almost died a-laughing, to see their legs sticking up in air, and they kicking like the mischief. When he got through there was twelve Injins with their legs out of the ground and their heads below. He said it looked as though some one had been planting Injins and they was sproutin’ up mighty lively. He tried to pull ’em out, so as to get their scalps, but they was stuck fast and he had to give it up.”
“And didn’t he get their scalps?” asked Jimmy McGovern.
“No; it almost broke his heart to leave ’em, but he had to, for there was some other Injins to look after. Well, this tramp told me that all we needed was a revolver apiece.”
“Oh! pshaw!” exclaimed Billy, “we can’t get along without rifles of the repeating kind.”
“Of course not, but we must wait till we arrive out West before we buy ’em. If each of us has a gun on our shoulder we’re liable to be stopped by the officers.”
“Well, if the officers git too sassy,” suggested Billy, “why we’ll drop them in their tracks and run.”
“That might do if there wasn’t so many of ’em. We don’t want to bother with them, for we’re goin’ for Injins, and now and then a grizzly bear.”
“I’m willing to do what you think is best; but who is this tramp that told you so much?”
“He said he was called Snakeroot Sam, because he rooted so hard for rattlesnakes. He tells me what we want is plenty of money, and it was our duty to steal everything we can from our parents and keep it till we get out West, where we can buy our Winchesters. If the people charge too much or act sassy like we can plug them and take the guns away from ’em.”
This scheme struck the listeners favorably, and they smiled, nodded their heads, and fairly smacked their lips at the prospect of the glorious sport awaiting them.
“Snakeroot Sam is a mighty clever feller, and he says he will help us all he can. When we get enough money we are to let him know, and he will take charge of us. That will be lucky, for he can be our guide. He isn’t very clean-looking,” added Tom, with a vivid recollection of the frowsy appearance of the individual; “but he tells me that after we cross the Mississippi it’s very dangerous to have our clothing washed, ’cause there’s something in the water that don’t agree with the people. That’s the reason why he has his washed only once a year, and then he says he almost catches his death of cold.”
“Gracious!” said Billy, “if he knows so much about the West, we must have him for our guide. Injin slayers always have to have a guide and we’ll hire him.”
“That’s my idee exactly. I spoke to Sam about it, and he said he would like to oblige us very much, though he had two or three contracts on hand which was worth a good many thousand dollars to him, but he liked my looks so well he’d throw them up and join us.”
“How much will he charge?”
“I didn’t ask him that; but he’s a fair man and will make it all right. What I don’t want you to forget, boys, is that we’ve got to raise a good deal more money.”
“What a pity I didn’t steal all there was in mother’s pocket-book when I had such a good chance,” remarked Billy, with a sigh; “if I get another chance I’ll fix it.”
“I think I can slip into father’s room tonight after he’s asleep,” added Jim McGovern, “and if I do, I’ll clean him out.”
“You fellers have a better chance than me,” said Tom, “but I’m going to beat you both and have twice as much money as you.”
This was stirring news to the other boys, who were seated on the ground at the feet, as may be said, of their champion. They asked him in awed voices to explain.
“You’ve got a pistol, Jimmy?”
“Yes; a regular five-chambered one, and I’ve got a lot of cartridges, too.”
“There’s going to be a concert at the Hall to-night,” added Tom, peering behind, around, and among the trees again to make sure no one else heard his words, “and father and mother are going. They will take all the children, too, except me.”
“How’s that?”
“He says I was such a bad boy yesterday that he means to punish me by making me stay at home, but that’s just what I want him to do, and if he feels sort of sorry and lets up, I’ll pretend I’m sick so he will leave me behind. I tell you, fellows, Providence is on our side and we’re going to win.”
His companions shared the faith of the young scamp, who now proceeded to unfold his astounding scheme.
“The folks will leave the house,” said Tom Wagstaff, “about half-past seven, and there will be no one home but me and Maggie, the girl. I’ll be up in my room and Maggie down-stairs. When I lean out the window and wave my hand I want you, Jim, to fire two or three charges out of your revolver through the winders of the dining-room.”
“What for?” asked the startled Jim.
“Wait, and I’ll tell you; the noise of the pistol and the breaking of the glass will scare Maggie half to death: she will run out of the house, and you and Billy must then slip inside, hurry up-stairs, tie me to the bed-post, and put a gag in my mouth. I’ll have all the money and jewelry ready in a handkerchief, and you can scoot with it. Maggie will run down to the Hall and tell father and mother, and they’ll hurry home and be so scared they won’t know what to do. They’ll untie me, and I’ll pretend I’m almost dead, and they’ll call in the police, and when I come to, I’ll have a story to tell about robbers with masks on their faces, and all that sort of thing, and they’ll hunt for ’em, and never smell a mouse. What do you think of it, fellers?”
It was a scheme which, in its vicious cunning, was worthy of older scamps than these three young school-boys; but their minds were poisoned by pernicious reading, and they eagerly entered into its spirit. Everything promised success, and Tom, the originator of the plan, found his companions as eager as himself to lend a hand in carrying it out.
It seemed as if fate had arranged to help the boys. When the three climbed over the fence again into the highway, and separated to their homes, Tom, in order that there should be no miscarriage of the programme, took pains to be particularly ugly and impudent to his parents. His kind-hearted father was disposed at first to recall the threat made in the morning that his son should not go with the rest to the concert in the Town Hall, but he was so irritated by the behavior of the lad that he not only carried out his threat, but was on the point of chastising him before leaving home.
It followed, therefore, that when eight o’clock came, the condition of the household was just what Tom prophesied and wished. Maggie, the hired girl, was busy at her duties below-stairs, when he stole softly to the upper story and began his work of ransacking the bureau-drawers. He found considerable jewelry belonging to his mother and sisters, besides over seventy dollars in money which his father had left within easy reach.
All this was gathered into a handkerchief, which was securely tied and placed on a chair beside the window, where the gas was burning at full head. Then, everything being in readiness, he quietly raised the window and looked out.
The night was dark, without any moon, and even his keen eyes could detect nothing among the dense trees which surrounded the fine residence of his father. But, when he whistled, there was a reply from under the branches which he recognized as coming from his allies, who were on the lookout.
Tom waved his hand, lowered the sash, and stepped back from the window.
Maggie was singing below-stairs and, with that exception, everything was still. His heart beat fast as he knew that the opening of the drama, as it may be called, was at hand.
Suddenly the sharp report of a pistol rang out on the night, followed by a second and third shot, mingled with the crash and jingle of glass. Jim McGovern was doing his part with unquestioned promptness.
The singing of Maggie ceased as if she were paralyzed by the shock; but with the third report her scream pierced every nook in the building, and she was heard running to and fro as if in blind terror. She would have dashed up-stairs to escape, but a noise on the rear porch caused her to believe the burglars were about entering the building, and she was certain to be killed if she remained.
Through the front door she went in the darkness, her screams stilled through fear that the dreaded beings would be guided by them; and, recovering her senses somewhat when she reached the street, she hurried in the direction of the Town Hall to acquaint Mr. and Mrs. Wagstaff with the awful goings-on at home.
Billy Waylett and Jim McGovern were on the watch, and the moment she vanished they entered through the rear door, which remained unlocked, and hastened up-stairs to the room where the gas was burning and from which Tom had signalled to them.
“Quick, fellers!” he said, as they burst into the apartment, “father will soon be back.”
“Where’s the rope?” asked Jim.
“There on the chair.”
“What’s that handkerchief for?”
“The money and jewelry is in it; tie me first and then hurry out with that, and take good care of it till to-morrow, when we will fix things; hurry up!”
Billy had the rope in hand, and both boys set to work to bind the young rogue to the bed-post. Since the victim gave all the aid he could, the task was completed with less delay and difficulty than would have been supposed.
This was due also to the preparations which Tom had made for the business. A strong bed-cord, cut in several pieces, was at hand. His wrists were bound together behind his back; then his ankles were joined, and finally the longest piece of rope was wound several times around his waist and made fast to the bed-post. This rendered him helpless, and he could not have released himself had his life been at stake.
But the shrewd boy knew that something more must be done. Though tied securely, his mouth was at command, and it was to be expected that he would use his voice with the fullest power the moment his captors left him alone.
But with all the cunning displayed by Tom, and with all his perfect preparations in other respects, and after having referred to the necessity of the gagging operation, he had forgotten to be ready for it.
“What shall we put in your mouth?” asked Jim, pausing and looking round after the binding was finished.
“Golly! I forgot all about that,” was the reply.
Billy darted to the bureau and caught up a large hair-brush.
“How’ll this do?” he asked, holding it up to view.
“It won’t do at all,” was the disgusted reply; “it’s too big for my mouth.”
“I don’t know ’bout that; you’ve got the biggest mouth in school.”
“We’ll take a sheet off the bed,” said Jim, beginning to tug at the coverlets.
“What’s the matter with you?” asked Tom; “do you think you can cram a whole sheet in my mouth?”
“Why not?”
“’Cause you can’t; that’s the reason.”
“I have it,” exclaimed Billy, running to the corner of the room and catching up a porcelain cuspidor; “this will just fit. Open your mouth, Tom, and give me a chance.”
But at this juncture, when the perplexity threatened to upset everything, Billy Waylett solved the difficulty by whisking out his linen pocket-handkerchief.
“Now you’re talking,” remarked the pleased Tom; “why didn’t we think of that before?”
It was curious, indeed, that they did not, and it was curious, too, in view of the cunning shown in other directions, that all three forgot a precaution which ought to have occurred to them.
A handkerchief was just the thing to be used to seal the mouth of the victim, but it should have come from the pocket of Tom Wagstaff instead of from Billy Waylett’s.
Perhaps had the boys felt that abundance of time was at command, they would have thought of this necessity; but they were well aware that Maggie, the servant, was making good speed to the Town Hall, and that Mr. Wagstaff would not let the grass grow under his feet on his way home. Besides, too, the screams of the girl were likely to bring others to the spot before the coming of the owner of the house. The boys, therefore, had not a minute to throw away, and they did not idle their time.
The twisted handkerchief was pushed between the open jaws of the victim, like the bit in a horse’s mouth, and then knotted and tied behind his head. Billy, who took charge of this little job, was not over-gentle, and more than once the victim protested. Little heed, however, was paid to him, and his words were but feeble mumblings when sifted through the meshes of the handkerchief.
“There! I guess that’ll do,” said Billy, stepping back and surveying his work; “how do you feel, Tommy?”
The latter nodded his head, mumbled, and tried to speak. He was urging them to leave, but his words were unintelligible.
Meanwhile Jim had picked up the other handkerchief, tied at the corners, and was surprised to find how heavy it was. It contained much valuable property.
The boys were reminded of their remissness by the sound of voices on the outside. Neighbors were at hand.
“We’re caught; it’s too late; what shall we do?” gasped Jim, dropping the handkerchief with its precious contents.
“They will hang us for bigamy,” replied Billy, turning pale and trembling in every limb.
Tom Wagstaff tried hard to utter a few words, and was struggling to free himself, but succeeded in neither attempt.
“Come on!” whispered Jim, catching up his load again; “they haven’t got in, and we may have a chance.”
He whisked through the open door, and scurried down the carpeted stairs, with Billy so close on his heels that both narrowly escaped bumping and rolling to the bottom.
The voices were louder, and it looked as if the youngsters were caught.
And such would have been the case, but for the timidity of the parties out-doors. They had been drawn thither by the out-cries of the servant, and were convinced that some fearful tragedy was going on, or had been completed within the dwelling.
These people were unarmed, and it was only natural that they should shrink from entering where several desperate men were supposed to be at bay. They consulted with each other and decided to await the arrival of re-enforcements.
This was the golden opportunity of the young scamps. The rear door was ajar and they noiselessly drew it inward far enough to allow them to pass through.
Before venturing forth they peeped out in the darkness. They could see nothing, though, for that matter, there might have been a dozen persons within a few feet without being visible; but the room in which the lads stood was also without a light, so that the advantage was equal.
The sound of the voices showed that the new arrivals were at the front, and the way was open for the flight of the amateur burglars, who still hesitated, afraid that men were lying in wait to nab them.
More than likely they would have tarried too long, but for a movement on the part of the newcomers. They were increasing so fast that they became courageous, and one of them pushed open the front door.
The creaking of its hinges and the tramping in the adjoining room spurred Jim and Billy, who hesitated no longer. Through the door they stole on tip-toe, and a few steps took them across the porch to the soft ground, where the soft earth gave back no sound. The trees, too, seemed to spread their protecting branches over them, and inspired them with such courage that, after hurrying a few rods, they came to a stop and looked back and listened.
“By George! that was the luckiest thing that ever happened to us!” whispered Jim McGovern, with a sigh of relief.
“That’s so,” assented his companion; “I thought we was goners sure, and we come mighty nigh it.”
“I wonder whether that gag is too tight in Tom’s mouth?”
“No, of course not; can’t he breathe through his nose?”
“But mebbe he has a cold.”
“That won’t make any difference, for he knows how to breathe through his ears; Tom’s too smart to die yet. Besides, if he is dead, it’s too late for us to help him; them folks are upstairs by this time, and they’ll get the handkerchief out of his mouth in a jiffy, unless, mebbe, he has swallowed it.”
“I say, Billy,” said Jim, “this thing in my hand weighs more than a ton!”
“It must have lots of gold in it; shall I help you carry it?”
“No, I can manage it; but what shall we do with the thing? It won’t do to take it home, for our folks might find it.”
“We’ll bury it under that stump back of our barn.”
“Is that a good place?”
“There aint any better in the world, for nobody wouldn’t think of looking there for it.”
“I seen our dog Bowser pawing under the stump the other day.”
“But he wasn’t pawing for money; we’ll hide it there till we’re ready to use it.”
The two moved off, when they heard another cry from the house behind them. They recognized it as the voice of Mrs. Wagstaff, who had arrived on the scene with her husband, and was probably overcome at sight of the woful plight of her boy.
Mr. Wagstaff, on receiving word at the Town Hall from the janitor who brought the message of the terrified servant to him, forgot, in his excitement, to tell his wife of the fearful news, and rushed out-of-doors without a word.
Mrs. Wagstaff knew it must be something awful that had called him away in that style, and she lost no time in following, while the children scrambled after them at varying distances.
The husband entered the door through which several of the neighbors had timidly passed, only a few paces ahead of his wife, who was upstairs almost as soon as he.
“Oh! my dear Tommy,” she wailed, as she caught sight of the silent figure fastened at the foot of the bed; “have they killed you?”
The sight was enough to startle any parent. The father had just jerked the handkerchief loose and flung it to the floor, and the lad’s head was drooping over on one shoulder, his eyes half-closed, and his tongue protruding. The parent caught up a pitcher of water and dashed it in his face, while the mother frantically strove to unfasten the cruel thongs at the wrists and ankles.
The unexpected shock of the water startled Tommy into gasping and opening his eyes, but his look was dazed and aimless. His father whipped out his pocket-knife and quickly cut the thongs. The released boy would have fallen had not both parents seized and laid him on the bed, where he moaned as if suffering greatly.
“Send for the doctor at once,” said the mother.
“And call in the police,” added the father; “a dastardly outrage has been committed; it may prove murder.”
By this time the room was filled with horrified and sympathizing neighbors. The solicitude of the parents for their child caused them to pay no heed to the visitors until the father, seeing a friend at his elbow, begged him to clear the house of intruders, and to admit no one except the physician or an officer of the law.
It took but a few minutes to comply with this request, and the parents were left to give undivided attention to their suffering child, who continued to moan and roll his eyes as if he were at his last gasp.
The father was anxious, silent, and watchful; the mother demonstrative and weeping. She rubbed her boy’s hands, chafed his limbs, gazing lovingly the meanwhile in his face, and begging him to speak to her. Maggie, the servant, had regained her senses, now that she was sure she was alive and the precious heir had not been killed. She took upon herself to fasten the doors and keep out intruders, finding time to make a search up-stairs, which needed to be extended only a few minutes to learn that an extensive robbery had been committed.
“Of course,” remarked Mr. Wagstaff, when the amount of his loss, as well as that of his wife, was reported to him, “I knew what had been done the moment I saw my poor boy.”
“Don’t tell me,” said the mother, waving the servant away, “I don’t care if they have taken everything in the house, so long as my darling Tommy lives.”
Her heart was kept in a state of torture by the alarming symptoms of her heir. At times he seemed about to revive, a look of intelligence coming into his eyes, but, after several gasping efforts to speak, he sank back on his pillow and gave it up as a failure.
By and by, in the midst of the trying scene, the physician arrived and took charge of the patient. He was a wise old gentleman of wide experience, and his cheerful words did much to awaken hope in the parents, who hung on his words and watched his manner.
It required but a few minutes for him to make known that their child was not seriously hurt. During his examination he gleaned the particulars of the outrage, and succeeded in getting Tommy into a sitting posture. Then he expressed the belief that if the boy’s senses did not come to him very soon he would have to bore a hole through his crown with a large auger.
This astounding declaration was meant for the benefit of Tommy alone, a sly wink at the parents preventing them from taking alarm. It was noteworthy that the boy began to pick up at once, and in the course of a few minutes was entirely himself.
When the chief of police arrived the urchin was able to talk with something of his usual facility, and imparted to his awed listeners his account of the daring outrage and crime.
He said he did not feel very well after his folks left for the concert, and he went up-stairs to lie down on his parents’ bed. He thought it strange that the gas was lit, though it was turned down, but he supposed it had been done by Maggie.
Just as he lay down he fancied he heard a man moving softly about the room. He rose from the bed and was about to call out, when he became sure that there were two persons near him. Before he could give the alarm he was seized and told that if he made any noise he would be instantly killed.
Still the brave boy tried to shout, when he was gagged, bound, and tied to the bed-post, where he remained while the robbery went on around him.
The doctor having pronounced Tommy out of danger, his parents became more composed, and listened quietly to the questioning of the chief of police, who was one of the shrewdest members of his profession.
He listened gravely until the questions of the others were finished, when he asked Tommy to describe the appearance of the criminals so far as he could. The lad did so quite glibly. Both of the intruders were masked, wore soft, slouch hats, long dark coats buttoned to their chins, had gruff voices, and one of them took a dreadful-looking revolver from his side pocket, and seemed to be on the point of discharging several of the chambers at the captive.