Part 24 (1/2)
”Righteousness shall go before him and shall set us in the way of his steps.”
THE Bishop was not in the habit of carrying much money with him, and the man with the stake who was searching him uttered an oath at the small amount of change he found. As he uttered it, the man with the pistol savagely said, ”Jerk out his watch! We might as well get all we can out of the job!”
The man with the stake was on the point of laying hold of the chain where there was a sound of footsteps coming towards him.
”Get behind the fence! We haven't half searched him yet! Mind you keep shut now, if you don't want--”
The man with the pistol made a significant gesture with it and, with his companion, pulled and pushed the Bishop down the alley and through a ragged, broken opening in the fence. The three stood still there in the shadow until the footsteps pa.s.sed.
”Now, then, have you got the watch?” asked the man with the pistol.
”No, the chain is caught somewhere!” and the other man swore again.
”Break it then!”
”No, don't break it,” the Bishop said, and it was the first time he had spoken. ”The chain is the gift of a very dear friend. I should be sorry to have it broken.”
At the sound of the Bishop's voice the man with the pistol started as if he had been suddenly shot by his own weapon. With a quick movement of his other hand he turned the Bishop's head toward's what little light was s.h.i.+ning from the alleyway, at the same time taking a step nearer. Then, to the amazement of his companion, he said roughly: ”Leave the watch alone! We've got the money. That's enough!”
”Enough! Fifty cents! You don't reckon--”
Before the man with the stake could say another word he was confronted with the muzzle of the pistol turned from the Bishop's head towards his own.
”Leave that watch be! And put back the money too. This is the Bishop we've held up--the Bishop--do you hear?”
”And what of it! The President of the United States wouldn't be too good to hold up, if--”
”I say, you put the money back, or in five seconds I'll blow a hole through your head that'll let in more sense than you have to spare now!” said the other.
For a second the man with the stake seemed to hesitate at this strange turn in events, as if measuring his companion's intention.
Then he hastily dropped the money back into the rifled pocket.
”You can take your hands down, sir.” The man lowered his weapon slowly, still keeping an eye on the other man, and speaking with rough respect. The Bishop slowly brought his arms to his side, and looked earnestly at the two men. In the dim light it was difficult to distinguish features. He was evidently free to go his way now, but he stood there making no movement.
”You can go on. You needn't stay any longer on our account.” The man who had acted as spokesman turned and sat down on a stone. The other man stood viciously digging his stake into the ground.
”That's just what I am staying for,” replied the Bishop. He sat down on a board that projected from the broken fence.
”You must like our company. It is hard sometimes for people to tear themselves away from us,” and the man standing up laughed coa.r.s.ely.
”Shut up!” exclaimed the other. ”We're on the road to h.e.l.l, though, that's sure enough. We need better company than ourselves and the devil.”
”If you would only allow me to be of any help,” the Bishop spoke gently, even lovingly. The man on the stone stared at the Bishop through the darkness. After a moment of silence he spoke slowly like one who had finally decided upon a course he had at first rejected.
”Do you remember ever seeing me before?”
”No,” said the Bishop. ”The light is not very good and I have really not had a good look at you.”
”Do you know me now?” The man suddenly took off his hat and getting up from the stone walked over to the Bishop until they were near enough to touch each other.