Storyteller.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 37, 9 December 1893, Page 13

Storyteller.

A GAME OF BLUFF.

Raise you again,” said the man 'with the red beard calmly. I had seen his hand, which, as he would say liimself, worth a red cent., and thought in my own mind he was the •coolest customer I had come across for "a lon°- time. I had reason to endorse that opinion, as you will hear, before 3 had seen the last of him. 1 was travelling at the time on the Grand Trunk Railway, between San J'rancisco and Chicago, and there were in the compartment with me fontother men, strangers to me, but evidently acquainted with each other, who were beguiling the time by playing poker together. • - In the pauses of the game the conversation ch'.etly turned on the doings of a robber, nicknamed Redbeard, who was just then making the tract of country we were passing through the scene of a series of desperate exploits and cold-blooded atrocities. He had been a bushranger in Australia, rumour said, until the country grew too hot for him, when he transferred his attention to the trade of a road-agent in the States, and had soon made his name famous for his recklessness and cruelty.

In answer to a question of mine as to the personal appearance of this miscreant, one of our party replied : “ Well, he’s just an ordinary-looking cuss with a red beard, as you can tell by his name ; a bit under the middle height, but broad and strong. Nobody knows very much about him yet, for he does all his work alone, and leaves very few to bear witness against jjiim ; but, as far* as can be told, .Dick Brooks, over there, might sit for his portrait —a compliment foryou, Dick.’ ’ Dick only laughed. Not very long afterwards the train suddenly came to a stop, and a noise begun as if Bedlam had suddenly broken loose —such a yelling and firing off of rifles and revolvers as 1 had aaever heard before and hope never to hear again. My four companions took it very philosophically. “Guess the line’s blocked by some of those road-agents, stranger, and, maybe, you 11 have a chance now of seeing what Redbeard’s like,” remarked one of them, and then placidly went on with the game. “Ay,” said another; “I heard there was some money to pay the troops being sent by this train, so they ought to make a good haul. It’s a wonder Government didn’t send a guard along, but J suppose they thought they had kept it all dark.” “ I’m going out to see the fun,” suddenly exclaimed the man mentioned as Brooks, opening the carriage door; “who else is on ?” As none of the others appeared keen, I volunteered to accompany him, out of curiosity, expecting a new experience ; and, certainly, it was a new experience tto see a whole trainload of people looking quietly on while an armed gang of robbers spoiled the mails. “ Why don’t these people attack the scoundrels ?” I asked my companion. “ There are plenty of men about, and they can’t all be afraid, surely.” “Well, yon see,” he replied, “it’s none of their business, and no one wants to get shot in somebody else’s quarrel ; if the, road-agents wanted to nob them, they’d soon show their claws, but, as it is, the beggars will take the mails and make off, and that’s the Government’s look out.”

By this time we had reached the guard’s van and looked in. Several of the passengers were standing about, ■watching the proceedings quietly as if it were a play got up for their amusement. Inside, the guard was lying in a heap in the corner, with a Bullet-hole through his side, and a little stream of b'ood trickling from it; while five rough-looking men were rifling the mail-bags, and throwing everything they thought valuable into a sack. They just appeared to Be finishing their job as vve came up. My companion looked at them

closely for a minute, muttered something between his teeth that sounded like, “ They said he always works alonethen suddenly his manner changed; he said sternly to me: “ Wait here forme,” stepped into the van, and walking straight up to the group, commanded in a deep voice: “ Throw up your hands, every man Jack of you,” For a moment there was a dead pause. Then one of the gang laid his hand on his pistol with an oath. “ You needn’t show your teeth,” said Brooks quietly ; “I’m Redbeard, and mean to have the swag, so best hand it over without any trouble; put down those tools.” Here, indeed, was a a shock. This quiet-mannered man I had been sitting beside for the last three or four hours, had turned out to be the famous desperado, and was vindicating his reputation before my eyes by an act of daring that threw all his previous exploits into the sha.de. That one man should beard these five ruffians, everyone of whom bore the stamp of murder on his face, when they had such an amount of treasure in their very grasp, and had tasted blood, and command them to disgorge their spoil, would have appeared to me absolutely incredible had I not seen it. But the very desperation of the act, joined to the fearlessness of the man, was his greatest safeguard. It was not wholly that they were overawed by the terror of his name ; they knew, it is true, that Redbeard had faced greater odds before and had come off victorious ; but in ordinary cases that remembrance would not have had time to occur to them. The ascendancy, it at once became evident he exercised over them, was obtained on the instant, and was moral rather than material ; they appeared stunned, panic-stricken by the dare-devilry of this man ; his was a stronger nature than theirs, and they quailed visibly before his eye, as jackals quail before a lion.

And then I saw the greatest triumph of sheer audacity E ever witnessed, a case of spoiling the Philistines with a vengeance. “ Come, bury up,” said Redbeard; aud the whole five throw their weapons down sullenly 7-, while one of them handed him the sack. “ Keep this,” he said tome, pnssing it on, hut never taking his eye off his quelled opponents. “ And you,” he added to them, “ come out of there and clear the line of the mess you’ve made on it.” At this command they all eyed their weapons with regret; but it was too late now, for unarmed, he had them at his mercy. Once or twice, too. while they worked at theic uncongenial task of removing the log’s with which they themselves had stopped the way of the train, I thought tiiey r were going to turn restive ; but by this time they were surrounded by a crowd of passengers, reg-ularly vibrating’ with curiosity and admiration, dominated, too, by the extraordinary personality of this man, and ready 7- to shoot them down at the least sign of resistance to his commands. When the work was completed we all got into our places again and the train moved off, leaving the little band of road-agents weaponless in the middle of the prairie. In our compartment we all settled down to poker again almost immediately as if nothing?extraordinary had happened, the only difference being that this time I took a hand. At the next station where we stopped two detectives came into the carriage, and one of them said, “I think one of y r ou gentlemen has got the stolen mails in your possession.” “ Yes,” said Brooks, “ here they are,” handing them over. “ Thanks,” said the man, passing them to his comrade, and then threw himself violently on the giver and handcuffed him. Brooks sat still and grinned; we all roared with laughter. The detective seemed surprised ; he had entered the carriage with his life in his hand and prepared for a desperate resistance, and such a reception as this puzzled him. “ I suppose you take me for Redbeard ?” said Brooks at last.

“ Yes.” “ Well, do you know his appearance yourself ?” “ No.” “ Does any of your men ?” “ Yes, several.” “ Then send for them.” When the other policemen came the detective asked them : “Do you know the road-agent called Redbeard by sight P” “ Yes.” “ Is this him ?” “ No, nothing like him,” came the startling response ; “beyond a general resemblance in build and colour of the hair.” “ Jerusalem ! Then who are you ?” cried the detective, “My name is Brooks, as these friends of mine can testify, and I am a respectable member of society, so far as that can be said of a poor devil of a journalist without a cent, to his name.” “ Then where’s the Redbeard that robbed the train ?” “ Well, I’m the only Redbeard in the show, and I didn’t rob the train but only the road-agents. I thought his name might come in useful, and perhaps they wouldn’t know the difference, so I just chanced it; and now, if mu please, I’ll put in a claim for salvage on those mails.” He got his salvage; and if ever a man earned such a reward I think you will agree that man was Dick Brooks, the day he understudied the part of Redbeard. —Ludgate Monthly.