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He made no attempt to rise, apparently was unable to move, and a dark, bloody stain covered the deck. West sprang forward, and lifted the head on his arm. "You are hurt badly?" he exclaimed. "What can I do for you?" "Nuthin', I reckon," still in that same strained whisper. "I'm done for; no doubt of it. That guy got me. You ain't one o' that murderin' gang, are you?"
"That's a good job done!" said Dick. "I wish that theer murderin' shep hadn't a-bruk our mast; fur, we'd soon been all right!" "While you're about it, Dick," said Bob, "you might, just as well, wish she hadn't carried the mast and boom away with her. I don't believe they've left us anything!"
"Oh, pshaw, thet's always liable ter happen. Anyhow, I reckon I don't have ter worrit myself 'bout thet yit." "Suit yoreself." This time the native spoke dryly. "But what ye says sounds unthoughted ter me. Ef a man's mean enough ter foller murderin' somebody over a gal, he's more like ter do hit afore ther feller gits his holt on her then a'tterwards. When did ye see ther gal?"
Dinna be fleyt; yer father an' Oscar has him safe eneuch, I s' warran'." "Here, Janet!" cried her husband; "gien ye be throu' wi' the bairn, I maun be gauin'." "Hoot, Robert! ye're no surely gauin' to lea' me an' puir Gibbie, 'at maunna stir, i' the hoose oor lanes wi' the murderin' man!" returned Janet. "'Deed am I, lass!
The side door was unlocked, so I lugged that box into the settin' room and left it there. Pretty nigh broke my back; and that everlastin' Job hollered so I thought the whole town would hear him and come runnin' to stop the murderin' that they'd cal'late was bein' done.
I hae seen him mysel', missin' 't like, luik up o' a suddent as gien his sowl hed been requiret o' 'im, an' grip at it as gien it hed been his proadigal son come hame oonexpeckit." Cosmo told her where he had found it. "I tellt ye sae!" she cried. "The murderin' villian cairriet it wi' him, weel kennin what was intil 't!"
"She's awa to her Ennglish." Lizzy Johnstone. "Did we come to Veeneece to speak Scoetch, ye useless fule?" Christie. "Here, pale and hopeless, but resigned, stands the broken mairchant, Antonio; there, wi scales and knives, and revenge in his murderin' eye, stands the crewel Jew Shylock." "Aweel," muttered Sandy, considerately, "I'll no mak a disturbance on a wedding day." Christie.
"Joe Newbolt," said he, "I put you under arrest on the suspiciont of shootin' and murderin' Isom Chase in cold blood." It was a formula contrived between the constable and Sol. Sol had insisted on the "cold blood." That was important and necessary, he declared. Omit that in making the arrest, and you had no case. It would fall through.
While Hamersley is still smiling at the grotesque prognostication, the ex-Ranger, seizing hold of his hand, continues, "I'm so glad you're a goin' to rekiver. Leavin' out the angels we love, ther'll be some chance to git square wi' the devils we've sech reezun to hate. We may yit make them pay dear for the bloody deed they've done in the murderin' o' our innercent companyuns."
Hunky Ben and his friends had, of course, made rapid preparations to receive them as foes, if need were; but on recognising who composed the cavalcade, they went out to meet them. "Hallo! Hunky," shouted Crux, as he rode up and leaped off his steed, "have they been here?" "Who d'ye mean?" demanded the scout. "Why, Jake the Flint, to be sure, an' his murderin' gang. Haven't ye heard the news?"
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