Part 11 (2/2)
”Put him there in the hut,” said Jim, beginning now to breathe a little more easily. ”Ching, take your captive in too. Tom will watch him; if they attempt an escape----”
[Ill.u.s.tration: JIM IN A TIGHT CORNER]
”Ha, ha! I like to see dat,” cried the l.u.s.ty negro, lifting Jaime from his feet as if he were a child and beginning to carry him within the hut. ”By de poker, but I hope him will try to 'scape. Den yo see; Tom smash um into a jelly. Tom make mincemeat of dis bag ob bones. Yo see; Tom lob to kill um.”
He swung the ruffian round till their faces were close together, and, bending closer, bared his teeth and glared at the unfortunate fellow till Jaime recoiled; for, when he liked, Tom could adopt the expression of a demon.
”There; see him safely in the hut, and watch the two of them,” cried Jim, smiling even at such a moment, for he could not help but contrast Tom's unusual exhibition of ferocity with his usual self. It was an eye-opener even to him to see this mild-mannered negro so transformed; and Jim, knowing the faithful fellow so well, realized that all his anger and ferocity were a.s.sumed.
”Just to scare the ruffian,” he thought, ”and very thoroughly he has done it, I guess. Now, let's see this other fellow.”
He and Ching between them rolled the man whom Tom had cast against the hut on to his back, and then carried him within the dwelling, where the lamp gave them an opportunity of inspecting him.
”Bad luck!” cried Jim at once. ”Neither of our prisoners is the one I wished above all to capture. Still, we have accounted for three, and the police will deal with the others. How long will it take them to arrive?”
”Anoder hour, sah,” came from Tom immediately. ”Me know de road. Dey here about den. But no need to worry; dese blackguard son ob guns not try any little game. Tom make himself happy.”
To prove his coolness he dragged a pipe from his coat, filled it with loose chippings which he carried in a pocket, and, stepping to the lamp, held the bowl of the pipe over the flame. Then he puffed big clouds of smoke into the air contained within the hovel, which, to be sure, already reeked with the nauseous fumes of the cigarettes the gang of ruffians had been smoking. Later Tom sat himself comfortably in a chair, crossed one leg over the other, folded his arms, and regarded his prisoners with an air of severity which caused them to cower, though Jim, looking up at him, could distinguish the old twinkle in the negro's eyes.
”By lummy! But s'pose we not wait fo de police,” suggested Tom, removing his pipe from his capacious mouth, and baring his fine white teeth in the process. He leered at the two cowering men, and then looked round at our hero. ”S'pose save de time and labour ob de police, sah. Hang um now. Plenty room in here, and dat beam jest in nice position. Gee! Fine ting to watch dis sc.u.m dance de tatoo in de air. S'pose we get to wid it.”
There was an amiable smile on his lips now. He popped the pipe back between his teeth, causing the latter to fasten upon the stem with a click, and stared up at the blackened roof of the cottage. ”Him bear de weight ob both together, sah,” he laughed. ”But not be too fast. One at time plenty much, so as have heap to laugh at. I'm gwine ter commence wid dis blackguard.”
He glowered upon Jaime de Oteros, the hardened villain who had led the gang, and who, if the information of the Commission police were correct, had more than once robbed his victims with unusual violence. ”Him biggest of de blackguards,” said Tom reflectively. ”Him gwine ter dance on air fust of de lot.”
He rose from his seat, laid his pipe on the table, and approached his prisoner. And Jaime shrunk before him. From being a well-nurtured man, a rascal who, by means of his depredations had been enabled to live on the fat of the land and batten on other people's riches, the wretch, when punishment faced him, shrivelled visibly, till his very stature seemed to be dwarfed, his cheeks shrunken and hollow, and his rounded limbs but half their former size. He grovelled upon the floor, whining for mercy.
”Stop!” cried Jim at once, thinking that Tom's fun had gone far enough.
”We will wait for the police, and let them do as they like. But it jest about shows you the cravens these fellows are. Under the same sort of circ.u.mstances this Jaime would not hesitate to bully his prisoners, I guess; even to hang them outright. However, it is not our job to give punishment; we'll leave that to the judges. Sit down and watch them.”
”Watch dem! By lummy! but dat not necessary; not at all, sah,” came the answer from the negro. ”Yo dere, yo blackguard. Yo go very careful, or Tom do as him say, ma.s.sa or no ma.s.sa. Yo sabbey?”
He scowled at his prisoners till they crouched still lower, and then, turning to Jim, leered again at him, c.o.c.king one eye wide open, while the other closed. He was actually grinning, but the next instant, when he reseated himself, and again pulled at his pipe, the eyes which regarded the rascals cowering against the wall were savage.
”Now,” said Jim, ”lend a hand here, Ching. This fellow is badly knocked about. Bruised all over and stunned I should say: not dead.”
The Chinaman wrapped his pigtail round his head, and secured it in position with a pointed piece of stick which he carried about his person for that very purpose. Then he bent over the man whom Tom had dealt so harshly with, and, chuckling all the while, proceeded to examine him minutely.
”Not one little bone ob him brokee, sah,” he said. ”But plenty fine upset. Got de headachee velly badly. To-mollow, when him wake up, oh him so velly ill. Him groan ever so much. Him giddy and velly sick, and him wish eber so much him neber been a rascal, and neber met dat great big n.i.g.g.e.r dere. Him tink him one big black debil. Him hate Tom.”
”He! he! he! Ho! ho! ho!” came in uproarious tones from the huge negro seated at the table, smoking so comfortably. Then Tom suddenly became very serious.
”Yo Chinee boy,” he cried, ”yo son ob yellow gun, yo listen here. Tom not like serve a man same as dat always. Him very gentle as a rule. But, by de poker, when a villain try to shoot and cut de throat of Ma.s.sa Jim, den time to do tings! Not time to talk. Dat come afterwards. De man dere sorry in course dat he met me; but dat altogether his fault, I guess.
He shouldn't hab laid a hand on de young ma.s.sa. Now yo dere, in de corner, what yo squintin' outer de door for? You tink get away. By de poker, show you dat! Beat you into squash and jelly!”
He switched the conversation round to his prisoner, for Jaime was staring out through the door of the hut, as if he had intentions of making a dash for liberty. But Tom's voice brought him to his senses.
The man--a Spaniard by his appearance, but one evidently long departed from his own country, and well able to speak and understand English--shrivelled up into his corner, while into his black, beady eyes there came a hopeless expression, the expression to be met with on the face of a condemned criminal who knows he is past relief. It seemed evident, too, that Jaime was in that position, for a little while after, while Jim was bathing the face of the man who lay unconscious on the floor, a force of Colon police arrived, and quickly took affairs into their own hands. A smart officer entered the hut without ceremony.
<script>