Part 21 (1/2)
”Come, now, Shank, old man, you mustn't give way like that. You wouldn't, you know, if you had not been terribly reduced by illness--”
”Yes, I would! yes, I would!” interrupted the sick man, almost pa.s.sionately; ”I'd howl, I'd roar, I'd blubber like a very idiot, I'd do any mortal thing, if the doing of it would only make you understand how I appreciate your great kindness in coming out here to save me.”
”Oh no, you wouldn't,” said Charlie, affecting an easy off-hand tone, which he was far from feeling; ”you wouldn't do anything to please me.”
”What d'ye mean?” asked Shank, with a look of surprise.
”Well, I mean,” returned the other, gently, ”that you won't even do such a trifle as to lie down and keep quiet to please me.”
A smile lighted up the emaciated features of the sick man, as he promptly lay back at full length and shut his eyes.
”There, Charlie,” he said, ”I'll behave, and let you do all the talking; but don't let go my hand, old man. Keep a tight grip of it. I'm terrified lest you drift off again, and--and melt away.”
”No fear, Shank. I'll not let go my hold of you, please G.o.d, till I carry you back to old England.”
”Ah! old England! I'll never see it again. I feel that. But tell me,”--he started up again, with a return of the excited look--”is father any better?”
”N-no, not exactly--but he is no worse. I'll tell you all about everything if you will only lie down again and keep silent.”
The invalid once more lay back, closed his eyes and listened, while his friend related to him all that he knew about his family affairs, and the kindness of old Jacob Crossley, who had not only befriended them when in great distress, but had furnished the money to enable him, Charlie, to visit these outlandish regions for the express purpose of rescuing Shank from all his troubles and dangers.
At this point the invalid interrupted him with an anxious look.
”Have you the money with you?”
”Yes.”
”All of it?”
”Yes. Why do you ask?”
”Because,” returned Shank, with something of a groan, ”you are in a den of thieves!”
”I know it, my boy,” returned Charlie, with a smile, ”and so, for better security, I have given it in charge to our old chum, Ralph Ritson.”
”What!” exclaimed Shank, starting up again with wide open eyes; ”you have met Ralph, then?”
”I have. He conducted me here.”
”And you have intrusted your money to _him_?”
”Yes--all of it; every cent!”
”Are you aware,” continued Shank, in a solemn tone, ”that Ralph Ritson is Buck Tom--the noted chief of the outlaws?”
”I know it.”
”And you trust him?”
”I do. I have perfect confidence that he is quite incapable of betraying an old friend.”
For some time Shank looked at his companion in surprise; then an absent look came into his eyes, and a variety of expressions pa.s.sed over his wan visage. At last he spoke.