credentials, fierce contempt in his face, and, in either hand, a heavy six shooter. “Don’t pull, boys, I’ve got the drop on ye! Cowards, to tackle a single man, six of ye!” “By Heavens, he’s killed Rummey!” “No matter; it was a fair fight, and Rummey at the bottom of the blame.” “All the same he’ll never kill a pal of ours, and live to tell it! Stand off, Cully Devens!” “No, sir! I am going to take this wounded man out of this without another scratch, if I have to send every mother’s son of you to perdition.” His voice rang out clear and commanding. In the might of his wrath, he had forgotten the language of Cully Devens and spoken as a man to cowards. The effect was electrical. From among the men standing at bay, one sprang forward, crying: “Boys, here’s a traitor amongst us! Who are ye, ye sneak, that has played yerself fer Cully Devens?” [59] “Don’t pull, boys, I’ve got the drop on ye!”—page 58. [60]The lithe body bent slightly forward, a low laugh crossed the lips of the bogus Cully, the brown eyes lighted up, and flashed in the eyes of the men arrayed against him. Then came the answer, coolly, as if the announcement were scarcely worth making: [60] “Richard Stanhope is my name, and I’ve got a trump here for every trick you can show me. Step up, boys, don’t be bashful!” CHAPTER VI. STANHOPE’S HUMANITY. “Richard Stanhope is my name, and I’ve got a trump here for every trick you can show me. Step up, boys, don’t be bashful!” Momentous silence followed this announcement, while the habitues of the Thieves’ Tavern glanced into each others’ faces in consternation. An ordinary meddler, however much his courage and skill, would have met with summary chastisement; but Dick Stanhope!
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