Part 19 (2/2)

”Beel,” says Pedro, ”let us to remain here. They cannot be hurt now, for they run verree fas'. The es-store is a fort. If we stay, we do better.”

I took in the situation. Tony and his mate were keeping distance n.o.bly.

I suppose they drew a clip or two from a stone, but they were in no deadly danger unless the crowd got hold of them. Pedro wasn't much of a hand to sell groceries and truck, but he was a durned good general when it came to war.

”Queeck, Beel!” says he. ”For to defend us make closed the windows and doors, but the one!”

We worked sharp, rolling barrels against the doors and slapping boxes of canned goods against the window-shutters. The work did me a power of good. Anger had driven out most of my fear, yet getting my muscles into use was needed to remove the rest of the poison from my system.

Next I broke open a box of cartridges and spread them on the counter, while Pedro loaded revolvers taken from the stock. By the time the feet drew near, we were in fighting trim. Another cry for help sounded almost at the door. Pede and I rushed out.

”Get in, boys,” I said, ”and grab a gun!” They ducked under my arm and entered the store.

The rest drew up in a huddle, a ways off, and stopped.

”Now, gentlemen,” I said in the best Spanish I could muster, ”what's the matter?”

I got no answer, but bad looks. They talked and muttered among themselves, and s.h.i.+fted about, with ugly motions--as black and treacherous a mob as a man would like to dream of.

My temperature went right up. I naturally despise not getting an answer to a question. One lad shook his fist and growled something.

That was all. I waited. ”Once more,” says I, ”what's the matter?” Same performance. I shot a hole through the hat of the lad who shook his fist. ”Third and last call,” says I, ”what's the matter?” but they broke and ran.

My play held 'em for a minute. Our best show was to take the top hand at once, so I walked down to them.

”Now I want to know what ails you people,” I said, getting the meaning into Spanish, if the words were a little mixed, ”and I want to know quick, or there'll be a fuss right here.”

A big feller jeered at me: ”Put down the gun, and _I'll_ show you what's the matter,” he said.

”You will?” says I, parting with what sense I had. ”You yellow-bellied snake-in-the-gra.s.s! _You_ will show a white man, will you? Come on out here, you that's so brave in a crowd!”

I chucked the gun away and waited for him. I got just what I might have expected--they all come for me! Cursing my fool soul, I jumped for the gun. I almost had my hand on it when a rock took me behind the ear and laid me on the gra.s.s. It was up to Mr. William De La Tour Saunders to put his feet under him with celerity and hike out of that. It was painful--sufferin' Moses! How I hated to run from that crowd! I snorted, but run was the word, and run I did, with them hollering and laughing at me. Inside, I grabbed two of the guns from the counter, called to Pedro and the other two, and started back. I met the gang right at the door.

It was curious how making me run had braved them; they were for tearing everything apart now. Well, our meeting was a surprise to both parties.

I've had to be grateful all my life that my hands think faster than my head. I put four shots into that crowd before I thought at all. The man who picked up my revolver fired and missed me from a three-foot range. I got some of the powder, also a knife in the shoulder, but four men laid out discouraged 'em and they broke again. I put it to them with both hands, Pedro and the other boys cutting in before they found shelter.

By this time I was wild--wanted to go after them and hunt 'em out. Pedro and the other two fastened on me and dragged me in.

”More shall come, Beel!” cried Pedro.

”We must have care--do not to go, I implore!”

He not only implored, but half-strangled me; they hauled me back and shut the door.

”Listen, all,” says Pedro. ”This is not the end. Others will come with guns, and then!--But now to see what is outside.” He stationed us each where we could peek through cracks, and so cover the store from all sides. There was barrels of ammunition, General Pedro issued commands to blaze away at a sight.

The folks outside kept up a stream of cursing and abuse, jeers and threats, and we returned a revolver fire just as effective. It was too far for a short gun.

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