Part 23 (1/2)

He couldn't understand. He just stared. ”Hand me that knife!” says I, letting what I felt become apparent. He pa.s.sed over the knife. With all his faults, he was too smart a man not to know the fix he was in. Yet I thought I'd clinch it.

”Mr. Belknap,” says I, ”your goose is cooked. The government army is right outside, as your people could have seen, if they'd had the wit of a mud-turtle. I've come into your lines prepared to do anything necessary, as you can readily imagine. We're going to have a little play-acting now, and you're to guess your part. If you guess wrong--Well, heaven has missed you for some time, and she sha'n't be defrauded any longer.”

His eyes flickered with fury. He couldn't have said a word to save him.

”Understand,” I whispers, ”a crooked move and--_adios_!”

He understood. I kicked a table over and scuffled with my feet as if there was a row, then lay down on the floor, where I could watch my man, and yelled quietly for help. Orinez's head showed at the window. I signaled him, and he lay behind the shutter with his artillery trained on Belknap, the virtuous.

”Don't cause me the great grief, Senor,” he whispers. Belknap turned and, seeing him, the life went out of his face.

I hadn't yelled loud enough to alarm the house. Only Mary's quick feet responded to the call.

She, too, was a trifle surprised to find me lying on the floor in Belknap's room.

”Save me, Mary!” I cried. ”Save me!”

What's a little foolish pride when your friend's good is at stake? Yet it hurt to do that.

”Why, Will! Mr. Belknap!” she cried, astonished. ”Whatever is the matter? What does this mean?”

”I came to see you, Mary,” I said, almost crying, ”and Mr. Belknap threatened to kill me.”

”To kill _you_, Will?” she said, in a voice that rang like a man's. ”To _kill_ you?”

”Yes,” I said piteously. ”And I'm not fit to fight him--I've been hurt--see my head, where I've been shot.” I tore open my s.h.i.+rt sleeve.

”See the cuts! and the bullet holes!”

”Oh, poor boy! poor, poor boy!” she said in such loving pity that I felt a skunk and had a mind to chuck the game. But it was out of my hands now. Mary sprang up and faced Belknap, so strong, graceful, and daring in her rage that I forgot my job in admiring her.

”Explain!” she said.

Belknap opened his mouth. Outside sounded a little click--like a creak in the shutter-hinge. No words came.

The blood flamed in her face. ”Have you _nothing_ to say to me, sir? I shall ask you once more what this poor wounded boy has done to you, that you propose to kill him?”

You never saw an uglier mug than Belknap's in all your days, as it appeared then. Ordinarily, although I hate to say it, he was a fine-looking man, but now his face was so twisted he looked like the devil in person. And still he said nothing. He had plenty good reason not to.

At this, Mary went at him. ”I thought you a good man--a wise man,” she said, with a bitter quiet that burnt, in every word. ”You are a cowardly scoundrel. Attack the boy if you dare. I think I am a match for such as you.”

And so help me John Rodgers, if she didn't catch up the heavy ruler from his desk and stand ready for him!

If I had the least remaining pity for Belknap, the look he threw at her finished it. He would have struck her if he could. I know it. The man was nothing but a rotten mess of selfishness.

”Bah!” says she, throwing down the ruler with disgust. ”I am making much out of little. You are not worth notice.”

She turned to me, all womanly gentleness and pity.

”Never mind, Will dear,” she said. ”You are safe, he dare not touch you.

What was it you risked your life to tell me?”