Detective Bob Bridger — page 116: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

DETECTIVE BOB BRIDGER. 109 “That would be expensive, and would be insulting to a man whom I must consider my friend, unless he proves the truth of my fear, which, as you say, may be all fancy, for, in fact, I have been drinking too freely of late.” “Then what do you want of us?” “A way to protect myself against assault if necessary.” ‘How can we aid you ?” “You are old hands—men who have done ‘crooked’ work. Pardon me for saying so, but I knew that the young man here was a ‘steerer in’ for just some such a game as you are playing. And so I followed him here—not so much in- toxicated as I have seemed—and willing, as 1 now am, to- leave this roll, containing five hundred dollars, in your hands. Briefly, then, I require a weapon by which I can defend myself if attacked, and I wish no testimony to exist _ if I have to use it, that I possessed it, or where I procured it; “That’s easy. You want to get a revolver, on the sly, I suppose ?”’ “Not arevolver. Something that will make no noise, and can be done away with so as not to be found.” | ‘T have it!” exclaimed Goucher, arising from his chair, and going to the rear part of the room. Soon after he returned and threw a heavy weapon upon the table which resembled, in appearance, a half-yard of fresh Bologna sausage. “There,” he said, “is a sand-bag, one rap from which, in a strong man’s hands, would floor a bull. It is built espec- ially for quiet work—work which, years ago, some of us were into. “Tf you were to knock a fellow down with that,” he con- tinued, striking the weapon upon the table, “all you would have to do to destroy the evidence would be—well, say it was on a railway train. Go to the saloon in the corner of the car, undo this end of it, and pour the filling out through the aperture. They would, of course, distribute along the track, and be lost beyond tracing. Then you have only the bare bag left. Itis made of tough canvas, saturated with spirits of turpentine, and covered with oiled silk. All vou’ve got to do then is to light a match, set it on fire, and drop it through on the track. On the instant it will be aflame and - the blaze will stick to it till it’s burned to ashes and blown away. And if any passing track walker should see it burn- ing he’d think it a piece of blazing waste from the engine, and give it no notice.” “That will suit me, then,” said the Paplinhin: taking S (E(6) EOMICHOOKS