Read Ebook: Broadcast by Grattan Will H

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Ebook has 136 lines and 5809 words, and 3 pages

Teagler nodded.

"Got something to show you," he said, and arose.

"I wouldn't," came the harsh voice of the other man.

Slowly, Teagler turned back to face the stranger. He looked into the muzzle of a nickel-plated revolver. The weapon shook slightly in the diner's hand, but the fellow's eyes were coldly malignant.

"What's the matter?" inquired the prospector.

Teagler slowly obeyed.

"I'll see what you were after," went on the stranger.

He crossed to a shelf, which supported a long drawer. Keeping partly turned toward Teagler, he opened the drawer, reached in suddenly, and drew out a big Colt's.

"Thought so," he muttered. "Well, I turned the tables right enough, eh?"

Teagler made no reply. The other returned and stood over the older man.

"Talk up, why don't you?" he demanded, shoving one gun close to the prospector's face. "You know who I am, now, don't you?"

"Things sort of indicate you're that 'Snapper' Kirk," replied Teagler.

"Well, I am," rapped back the stranger. "What of it?"

"'Pears like that's for you to say," evenly retorted Teagler. "Now you've introduced yourself, my name's Teagler--Joe Teagler."

Inwardly, he was not so cool. That radio message meant more to him than the stranger realized. Teagler's mind worked rapidly but evolved no way of circumventing the rascal before him. It would be nearly two hours before the mining company man would be due. Teagler had small hope that Kirk would remain that long. Moreover, the prospector did not like the calculating look in his captor's eyes.

The fellow moved away from him now, one gun, Teagler's, stuck in his pocket, the other ready in his right hand. He rummaged around among a collection of cans and miscellany in a corner of the shanty.

"You missed something in that drawer," spoke Teagler. "I was going after some nuggets. Better take another look."

"Want to trade, eh?" sneered Kirk.

Almost reluctantly, he drew his glance from the collection he had been exploring and went to the drawer. The revolver covered Teagler continuously. From the drawer, Kirk now drew a chamois bag. He emptied it, a dozen nuggets dropping out.

"That's from my mine," said Teagler, intent on interesting the stranger in something besides the problem he knew the jewel thief was facing.

He fumbled in an inside pocket and brought out something wrapped in tissue paper. He unwound the paper and held up a glorious necklace. A streak of sunlight, pouring through a tiny window, struck sparkles that dazzled the prospector's eyes.

"Mighty pretty," agreed Teagler. "Got any ideas how you're goin' to get rid of it?"

"Plenty," answered Kirk. "That'll be easy. Curse my luck, though! Think of running into a radio outfit up here."

His hands trembled as he returned the necklace to its wrappings and then to his pocket.

His gaze seemed drawn back irresistibly to the cans in the corner.

"Don't suppose there's another radio outfit in a hundred miles," he snarled.

Teagler smiled slightly.

"Guess you're right," he acknowledged.

Kirk stooped and lifted an old oil can, its spout spearing a piece of potato. The can seemed to fascinate him. He plucked away the potato and tipped the can. He poured out a few drops on the floor. Then he put down the can and his eyes turned back to Teagler.

"You got yourself in this," he muttered, "with that cursed wireless thing of yours."

Teagler's muscles tautened as he read the other's thoughts.

"You'd take a chance like that?" he drawled.

The prospector realized fear, nor was he ashamed of it. What an inglorious ending this would be, to his years of hopes.

"I'd as soon swing as go to the pen for a dozen years," replied Kirk. "Besides, they'd never catch me. No one has seen me here. They couldn't possibly connect me with it."

He was arguing with himself, out loud, Teagler decided. The prospector's mind worked under feverish pressure. He sought to get back to calmer thinking.

"How do you know I'd tell?" he asked.

Kirk laughed harshly, mockingly.

"Why wouldn't you?" he demanded. "Of course, you'd tell. Think any promise you made would be worth--that."

The crook snapped his fingers.

"I know Coster," said Teagler.

"Oh, you do! That's why you wouldn't tell him, eh? Or, maybe, you'd induce him to let me off easy?"

Teagler shook his head.

"I should say not," continued Kirk. "He hasn't got me yet. I ran the risk to get these little pretties and I'm going to cash in on them. You're not going to stop me, either."

He reached for a coil of rope on the wall and approached Teagler.

"Put your hands behind your back!" he ordered.

In a little more than a minute, the prospector was securely tied, hands and feet.

"I told you I knew Coster," insisted Teagler, as Kirk draw taut the last knots. "There's something yet in that drawer you'll like to see. Open a little black box in there. It's unlocked. You'll find a paper that will interest you. Maybe, it will save your life from the noose. If you see that, you'll think I ain't so likely to tell Coster."

Kirk pulled out the designated paper, glanced at it hastily; then he read it a second time, more carefully.

"Now, you see," urged Teagler.

"This says Joseph Teagler is wanted for embezzlement of ,000 from this same guy, Ellsworth Coster," said Kirk, wonderingly. "You said your name was Teagler. That right?"

The thief glanced sharply from the picture on the circular before him to the prospector's face. The photograph was of a man many years younger, clean-shaven, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

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