The Captain's Toll-Gate

by Frank R. Stockton

There was not time to strike down the weapon, but before the man had heard steps behind him the captain gave him a tremendous blow between the shoulders which staggered him, and spoiled his aim. Then the captain seized the air-gun. There was a whiz, and a click on the pavement. Then the man turned.

His black eyes flashed out of a swarthy face nearly covered with beard; his soft hat had fallen off when the captain struck him, and his black hair stood up like bristles on a shoe-brush. He was not a large man; he wore a loose woolen jacket; his sleeves were short, and his hands were hairy.

All this Olive saw, for she had been quick to follow her uncle; but the captain, who firmly held the air-gun, saw nothing but the glaring face of a devil.

The man jerked furiously at the gun, but the captain's grasp was too strong. Then the fellow released his hold upon the gun, and, with a savage fury, threw himself upon the older man. The two stood near the top of the steps, and the shock of the attack was so great that both fell, slipping down several of the stone steps.

Olive tried to scream, but in her fright her voice utterly left her. She could not make a sound. As they lay upon the steps, the captain beneath, the man seized his victim by the neck with both hands, pressing his great thumbs deeply into his throat. Apparently he did not notice Olive. All the efforts of his devilish soul were bent upon stifling the voice and the life out of the witness of his attempted crime. Olive sprang down, and stood over the struggling men. Her uncle's eyes stared at her, and seemed bursting from his head. His face was growing dark. Again Olive tried to scream; and, in a frenzy, she seized the man to pull him from the captain. As she did so her hand fell upon something protruding under his woolen jacket. With a quick flash of instinct her sense of feeling recognized this thing. She jerked up the jacket, and there was the stock of a pistol protruding from his hip pocket. In an instant Olive drew it.

A horrid sound issued from the mouth of Captain Asher; he was choking to death. In the same second that she heard it Olive thrust the muzzle of the pistol against the side of the man's head and pulled the trigger.

The man's head fell forward and his hairy hands released their grip, but they still remained at the captain's throat. The latter gave a great gasp, and for an instant he turned his eyes full upon the face of his niece. Then his lids closed.

Now there were footsteps, and, looking up, Olive saw a negro cabman in faded livery and an old silk hat, who stood staring. Before she could speak to him there came another man, a policeman, who, equally amazed, stared at the group below him. Only these two had heard the pistol shots. There were no other people passing on the avenue, and as it was past office hours there was no one in the great public building.

Until they reached the top of the steps the policeman and cabman could see nothing. Now they stood astounded as they stared down upon an elderly man lying on his back on the steps; another man, apparently lifeless, lying on top of him with his hands upon his throat; and a girl standing a little below them with a smoking pistol in her hand.

Before they had time to speak or move Olive called out, "Take that man off my uncle."