Part 23 (1/2)
”Let me see. Maybe I can be of some use. Stand aside, please.”
It was Peggy. The group of outlaws that had gathered about the rec.u.mbent man gave place respectfully. From a bag at her waist Peggy drew out a little oblong leather case. It had been a present to her from Mr. Bell before they set out to cross the reptile-haunted desert.
Opening the case she drew out a fairy-like little squirt, trimmed in silver. It was a hypodermic syringe. From a case she produced some crystals of a purplish color.
”A cup of water, please,” she begged.
It was in her hand almost as quickly as she made the request. In the meantime, with a handkerchief she had deftly bandaged the outlaw's leg above the bite. This was twisted tightly with a stick and prevented the poison circulating above the wound.
On Red Bill's ankle the reptile's bite was plainly to be seen. Two tiny blue punctures, fine enough to have been done with a needle.
Yet through the fangs that gave the bite had been delivered enough poison to kill a strong man.
With flying fingers Peggy immersed the crystals in the water, turning it a deep crimson. Then filling the syringe she pushed its needle-like point under the outlaw's skin and just above the wound.
Then she injected the antidote which she had mixed--permanganate of pota.s.sium--and old plainsmen will tell you there is no better opponent of a rattler's poison than the one Peggy used, the method of utilizing which had been opportunely taught her by Mr. Bell.
Red Bill's lips parted. His voice came through them painfully, hissingly.
”Thank 'ee,” he muttered, and then closed his eyes.
They carried him into a shack a little way up the valley and laid him on a cot.
”Anything else to be done, miss?” asked one of the outlaws in an awed tone.
”No,” answered Peggy with quite the manner of a professional nurse; ”he'll do nicely now. In an hour or so he ought to be better. You can call me then.”
”Wa-al, I'll be all fired, double gosh-jiggered,” Roy heard one of the men say as they left the shack and emerged into the late afternoon sunlight. The outlaws were all in the shack of their leader. All, that is, but the Chinaman, who had been an interested observer from the outskirts of the crowd. As the boy and girl came out of the shack he glided up to them as softly and silently as ever.
”Me see. You welly good. Allee samee doctor. Joss he helpee you,”
he said in a low voice. Then glancing about he sank his voice to a whisper:
”But you no tl.u.s.tee Led (Red) Bill. Him plentee bad mans. He feelee sick now. Him plentee thank yous. When he well he do you muchee harm.”
”He could not be so ungrateful,” exclaimed Roy; ”my sister saved his life.”
”Umph. That plentee big pity. Why not let him die. Good liddance,” opined the cold-blooded Ah Sing. ”Listen, Melican boy an' girl, helpee you escape to-night you do one littlee ting for me.”
”You'll help us escape?” echoed Peggy, the blood beating in her ears. ”How? We'd need horses, water, food and--”
”Me catchee eblyting. Leve him all to Ah Sing, he git um.”
A cunning smile overspread his features.
”But Ah Sing wantee some leward he do dis.”
”Of course. Any money you want you shall have in Blue Creek,” burst out Roy.
”Me no wantee monee. Me want lillee misses joss. Him plentee big joss my countlee. I have that joss I have plentee eblyting I want.”