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Then I charge you on your soul, come back with help and hang that knave Abbot for your Lady's sake, Jeffrey. She'll reward you, and so will God above." The man thrust away purse and deeds in some deep pocket. "How can I leave you to be butchered?" he muttered, grinding his teeth.
But his piercing eyes so disconcerted me now that I had my chance, and was alone with him, that I could not find a word to say, and stood before him mute. I think this pleased him, for his face relaxed. 'Well? he said at last. 'Is that all? 'The man is not dead, I muttered. He shrugged his shoulders contemptuously. 'What of that? he said. 'That was not what you wanted to say to me.
"Why did Jimmie go in disguise to your house on Monday night?" Helen blanched. "How should I know," she muttered evasively. "He he didn't come to see me the admission was barely above a whisper. "But you know what transpired in your house on Monday night?" demanded Kent eagerly. His question met with no response, and he repeated it, but still the girl remained silent.
A slightly built, sandy-haired man, with bright blue eyes and a look of authority, approached the group and Don, with a muttered apology, joined him. "That's our coach," explained Tom to Mrs. Satterlee. "He's instructor in Greek and German, and he's a peach! The fellows call him 'Curly' on account of his hair. He pitched for us last year and he won the game, too!
Fool!" muttered Miss Betsey, and read on: "The inclosed photograph is like her in features, but fails, I think, in expression, but I send it, as it will give you some idea of her as she is now."
With this, he appeared to pluck up his courage, and stepped forward more boldly. "Some dreadful deed is about to be committed, which I may perhaps prevent," muttered Jack to himself. "Heaven grant I may not be too late!"
"And we can't talk to the people here at the house all the men are in love with her, and all the women are jealous. Then there's a lot of money, too, or will be." "Confound the money!" I muttered. "That is nothing. Razor slipped." "I can tell you," he went on, "because you don't lose your head over every pretty face although Allie is more than that, of course.
At intervals he muttered softly to himself, but his words were inaudible suggested by some far-off and disconnected vision. Aunt Verbeny was nodding in her chair, arousing herself from time to time to give a sharp glance into the face of Uncle Ish.
Putting her arm round his waist, she moved with him toward the stairs. If only no one heard; if only she could get him quietly up! And she murmured: "Don't talk; you're not well. Lean on me hard." He seemed to make a big effort; his lips puffed out, and with an expression of pride that would have been comic if not so tragic, he muttered something.
"For God's sake, say something!" he cried at the end of a long silence. "This is as cheerful as a funeral!" "Speak a piece yourself if you feel the want of entertainment," retorted Jack, without looking around. "I wish to God I'd never come up to this forsaken country!" muttered Joe. "I wish I was back this minute in a man's town, with lights shining and glasses banging on the bar!"
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