Part 41 (1/2)
”You--” His voice was low; ”you--!”
The words were smothered in his anger.
She smiled then. She thought that she still could hear the even, padded patter of the dog jogging to his freedom.
”So you turned on me;--you--! D'you know what's going to happen to you;--d'you dare to think?”
Her voice was filled with a strange calm.
”I don't care, James;--I don't care--none. I set China-Ching loose.”
His face leered at her evilly in the moonlight.
”You ain't got no excuses;--you don't even make no excuses to me;--huh?”
”No, James;--no!”
Her tone was exultant.
The even, padded patter was still in her ears. It seemed so near. She saw the man's raised fist. The coa.r.s.e, bulging hammer of it. She felt that something was behind her. She turned.
The chow stood there--His ears back; his coat bristling, the hairs standing on end in tremendous bus.h.i.+ness; his fangs laid bare. There he crouched, drawn together, ready to spring.
The man took a step toward her. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see the huge taut fist.
”I wouldn't do that, James;” she said quietly. ”I just--wouldn't!”
”You'll live to rue the day.” The words came hoa.r.s.ely, gutturally. ”I'm going to beat you, woman. I'm going to beat you,--d.a.m.n good!”
”You ain't;” she said. ”Look, James!”
She pointed to the chow.
”Call him off;” the man shrieked. ”D'you want him to kill me?”
She saw him trembling with fear, paralyzed with terror so that his clenched hand still reached above his head,--shaking. She thought then of the pistol he always carried with him. For the second time she smiled. She saw him try to take a step backwards. His knees almost gave way under him. The chow wormed a bit nearer.
”Call him off;--take him away. d.a.m.n you, speak to him--! For Gawd's sake,--do something;--” he whined.
She looked at the man, cowed; abjectly afraid. She had nothing more to fear from him. He was beaten. Her hand went out until it rested on the dog's head.
”It's all right, China-Ching. It's all right,--now.” She felt the chow's great eyes fixed on her face; she felt that he was waiting. ”You can go on, James;--go on into the house!”
”What--what d'you mean?”
He stuttered.
”I'm going,” she said. ”Me, and China-Ching. I told you I'd go when I was ready;--but I wasn't going alone. That's what you ain't understood, James. Now we're both going. And you better be meandering up to your house, or maybe China-Ching he'll be getting tired of waiting.”