“Drop that bag, or the next shot will lame you for life, do you hear?” shouted the boy, now fully resolved that he would have to shoot to wound, in justice to all those poor depositors up in Lawrence, for whom he felt so sorry.
Perhaps it was on account of the threat contained in his words; although the nearness of Jenks, and the other two husky men, may have had more or less to do with it; but the escaping burglar realized that it was a case of either letting his plunder go, or else being badly wounded, and then sent to the penitentiary for a term of years. And so, he relaxed his firm clutch, allowing the bag with the stolen funds of the bank to fall upon the logs of the raft.
[CHAPTER XXIII]
EVERYTHING LOVELY—CONCLUSION
“Hurrah!”
That shout of triumph seemed to break forth from several pair of lips at once, when the taller one of the two thieves dropped the bag he had been carrying, as Jack so plainly threatened to fire upon him at close range.
He was not so much of a fool after all, it seemed. If there was going to be a chance for escaping minus the plunder, why, it would have to go, that was all.
Somehow Jack was reminded of incidents in his own boyish career. He could see himself madly tearing across a field, with a whole bevy of angry bumble-bees chasing after him, and surging about his unprotected ears; and when they started to get busy with their hot little probes, what did he do but dash his hat off, and then his coat in quick succession. This was to attract the attention of the bees to other things, and let him escape. And the manoeuvre was usually successful, too.
Well, this smart rascal, finding himself threatened with trouble, had just done the same sort of trick practiced by the bumble-bee fighters from away back in our great-grandfathers’ days, throw something down to attract the attention of the hunters and hold their attention while he escaped.