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Then suddenly Rufe's words struck that brain, word by word, like the clanging terror of a frightened bell. "I'm goin' to kill me a policeman." And with the last word, it seemed, she sprang upright in bed, clutching the coverlid convulsively. Daylight was showing gray through her window.
Pascherette's last whispered communication to Dolores had told her of Yellow Rufe's intentions; and while Sancho stood in amaze, she bent her ear to catch the expected sound of voices through the sounding-stone behind the tapestry. For there the little octoroon was to play a part for Sancho's especial benefit.
The chill'n haint hed no wild meat lately, 'ceptin' squir'ls out'n Rufe's trap." And then he began to cry out bitterly that nobody would give him work, and they would all starve; that the tanner believed he had stolen the grant, and was afraid to have him about the hides. "'Tain't no differ ez long ez 'tain't the truth," said his mother philosophically. "We-uns will jes' abide by the truth."
But in the momentary pause in her vigilance, a score of Rufe's ruffians burst past her and poured below into the saloon, where renewed sounds of combat told of the ferreting out of the beaten crew. "Milo, follow me!" cried Dolores, springing down the stairs herself, careless whether her wavering half-dozen followed or stayed.
Rufe had tried to do what nobody had done, or could do, while he was alive. Anyway, he was reckless, and he cared little if war did come again. Still, the old man prepared for a fight, and Steve Marcum on the other shore made ready for Rufe's return. It was like the breaking of peace in feudal days. The close kin of each leader were already about him, and now the close friends of each took sides.
"Now you, Berry," said Nimbus, extending his hand heartily, "what for yer no tell me dis afore?" "Jes kase 'twas no use," answered Berry. "Wall, yer know, I left h'yer 'bout two hours ob de sun, an' I pushes on right peart, kase it's a smart step ober ter Rufe's, ennyhow, an' I wanted ter see him an' git back ter help Nimbus in de crap ob a Monday.
Peace, slavish dog!" she panted, flinging out a gleaming hand and seizing him by one earring. "Thus I mark curs that seek their food among the dead!" With the words Dolores's right hand flashed upward, knife-armed, and across Rufe's cheek glared a crimson cross; into his eyes leaped the fear of death. "Now go!" she said imperiously, pushing him away.
It had come how well she remembered just what he had said and how, that night, even when she was asleep, Rufe's words had clanged like a bell in her brain what her awakening terror was when she knew that the deed was done and the stifling fear that the victim might be Hale.
An' whilst Pig-wigs war foolin' round, he drapped his deedie, an' stepped on it tromped the life out'n it." Rufe's expression was of funereal gravity. "An' then he follered me every foot o' the way home, beggin' an' beggin' me ter gin him another. But I wouldn't. I won't gin no more o' my deedies ter be tromped on, all round the mounting."
Dey is quality, an' no mistake. I b'longed to Miss Rufe's grandpaw; he done lef' her all his money, she an' Mr. Carter. Poor Mr. Carter! Dey say he ain't got no lungs to speak of. Ain't no wonder he's sorter wild like. He takes after his grandpaw, my ole mars'. Lor', honey, de mint-juleps jus' nachelly ooze outen de pores ob his grandpaw's skin!
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