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Table of contents
- The Butcher’s Trail
- More Audiobooks By Ann Rule
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Good luck writers! Top 15 Stories in Each Group. Groups are in ascending order, from Group 1 up to Group Please remember that if your story is not listed, it does not mean that is was disqualified, only that it did not place in the top 15 of the group. NOTE - Since the original posting, it was determined that stories in Groups 2 and had been incorrectly listed. The table below reflects the correct point totals after removing these stories. Lorraine Williams. What was that moaning Thing upon which powder and lead had no effect?
The Butcher’s Trail
Three times he tried to raise his arm, and each time it fell back upon the bed. Meanwhile the rattling of chains began once more, and with eyes starting from his head because of his fear, Waters saw the fearsome shape advancing upon him. By a supreme effort he raised his arm, and emptied the remaining five chambers of his revolver at the approaching figure.
The Fool, who had never ceased moaning while the shots were being fired, executed a rapid movement with his hands as if catching the bullets, and then slowly tossed them back, one after the other. The man in bed reached for the little balls of lead mechanically, then straightened back against the pillow, and remained perfectly motionless, staring at the Thing, which had now stopped again and was groaning dismally.
For five minutes neither man moved, then The Fool, thinking that the joke was once more on him, for Waters still refused to speak, gathered his glittering robe about him, and slunk out. Back once more in his own room he undressed hurriedly, and slipped into bed. He was disappointed. He had expected that Waters would be terribly frightened, and that he could joke him unmercifully at the table for the next week. He did not know what the matter was, but he could not sleep. He could not get out of his mind that strange silence of the man down-stairs.
Then, suddenly, a terrible suspicion came over him. Jumping from the bed he threw on a few clothes, and crept fearfully down to the scene of his midnight joke. He opened the door cautiously, and, feeling for the button, turned on the electric light. Then he gave a hysterical cry, half laugh, half moan, and, rushing from the room, he fled down the hall out into the street.
One hand still held the silver-mounted revolver, while in the other were tightly clasped—six little leaden balls. BOBO, the wild man of Borneo, sat in his iron-barred cage reading the morning paper, while he pulled vigorously at a short, black clay pipe. It was nearly time for the show to begin, so he could only glance hurriedly at the stock report; for Bobo was interested in copper.
On alternate days—that is, on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays—the cage of Bobo was closed by a gaudily painted cover; and visitors on those days were told that the wild man was sick. Notwithstanding this report, there could be found on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, out in one of the New York suburbs, a middle-aged [32] Irishman named Patsy McLockin. The connection may not at first be evident.
The show was to start in about two weeks for a trip through New England; and since Mrs. Patsy McLockin had consented to remain in the city till the circus came back in the fall, Bobo agreed to exhibit himself every day while on the trip. Every two weeks during the winter Stetson had written a check for seventy-five dollars in acknowledgment of services rendered. On this morning Bobo was trying to decide whether to sell out his twenty-three shares of Isle Royal while that stock was at eighty-one, or to hang on to it for a while, hoping for a rise.
He fully intended to sell out some time during the next two weeks, for he did not want to be bothered with the stock while on the Eastern trip. Bobo tucked his paper into a little wooden box in the back of the cage, knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and curled up on the straw, pretending to go to sleep. He never worked over time, did Bobo; and up to the time when Stetson brought him his piece of meat, and began telling the people of the terrible struggle which had taken place in the swamps of Borneo, when the wild man was captured, Bobo always pretended to be asleep.
When, however, the manager reached a certain point in his narration, the nearest of the onlookers were usually startled by a savage growl, and the wild man from Borneo got up on all fours. For clothes, he wore merely a ragged breech-cloth about his loins, while the rest of his body was bare, save for a tawny growth of red hair. His skin was stained a dark brown, and in several places there were great raw-looking spots, where the manager said Bobo had bitten himself. His nose was a snout-like protuberance with great cavernous holes for nostrils, while his eyes, peeping out from under bristling brows, were small and wicked.
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All over his face and neck, and extending down to his breast, was a coarse growth of stiff red hair. The manager finished his harangue over Herman, the Ossified Man, pictures of whom a small boy began offering to the crowd for the sum of ten cents each. He was always glad when he came to Bobo, partly because he was the last freak to describe, and partly because the wild man always acted his part so well.
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The crowd rushed from in front of the platform [35] on which the Ossified Man had been exhibited. He killed a man that way last week. Stetson began his lurid tale of the fierce struggle which had taken place when the wild man was captured, and the crowd of country people listened open mouthed.
He yawned, exposing a set of yellow fangs, at the sight of which the small boy in the front row turned a little pale, and tried to work his way back into the crowd. Then Bobo growled. Bobo was proud of that growl. It had taken him weeks to acquire it. Beginning with a kind of guttural rumbling in his throat, he worked himself up gradually, and ended with a ferocious howl. Bobo immediately sprang at the bars of his cage, and rattled them loudly, chattering fiercely meanwhile. The crowd fell back, leaving a clear space in front of the cage; and the wild man, reaching a [36] hairy arm out between the iron bars, seized the meat, and crawling to a corner, buried his teeth in the bloody shank.
Between performances Bobo used to play penny ante with the fat man and the bearded lady, both of which gentlemen now tried in vain to lure him into a game. Lately, however, he refused to attend any of these gatherings, and spent most of his time alone.
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As Stetson said, though, the freaks were always complaining about one another, so little attention was paid to the grumbling in the side-show tent. He was doing better work than he ever had done before. One Sunday night the attendant, who had been before rebuffed, again sought out Stetson with a new tale of woe. He himself had noticed a change of late in the wild man.
They found Bobo lying asleep in his cage. The hair on his arms and breast was thicker than it used to be, and his teeth seemed longer and yellower. The younger Poole brother looked at a half gnawed bone lying on the bottom of the cage, and muttered something which nobody heard.
Bobo ran to the door of his cage and seized the bars, shaking them as he did when the show was on. Then what you kicking about? During the next few weeks the freaks had many causes for complaint. The Bearded Lady claimed that Bobo had spit at him when he went by the cage. But the Bearded Lady was a man of sensitive disposition, and easily offended.
There were other things more serious, however.
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Mille, one of the albinos, showed Stetson a black and blue spot on her arm where the wild man had struck her when she was putting on her wig, and the snake charmer threatened to leave the show if Bobo was not locked in his cage. One night, therefore, when the wild man was asleep, three of the attendants stole into the tent and snapped a couple of strong padlocks through the staple in the door. It was a good thing that they did; for the next day Bobo had a crazy fit before the show opened up, during which he tried to tear his cage to pieces.
It proved a great attraction, though; for the country people outside heard him raving, and the tent was soon packed. He stopped speaking to any one after that, and refused to answer when spoken to.
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He stayed in his cage all the time, sleeping there nights, and never touching the cooked food sent him from the kitchen, but there was never any meat left over for the lions. The Royal Roman Hippodrome and Three [41] Ring Circus played to remarkably good business all summer, and finally brought up at the old winter quarters in New York. One of the first visitors upon their arrival there was Mrs. Stetson took her into the room where workmen were getting every thing in order; for the show was to begin its winter indoor engagement next day.