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Updated: May 16, 2025
"We had a habit practically every team has of shouting 'Signal' whenever a player did not understand the orders of the quarterback. Mal Logan had just snapped out his signals, when Al Weatherhead left his position. Casting furtive glances at the opponents, and tip-toeing along like an Indian scout at his best, the very personification of 'caginess, Weatherhead approached Logan.
"By heaven! if I thought there was a villain on earth capable of shooting that poor inoffensive dog, I'd Why should they shoot him, Lilian? Tell me that! I I hope you won't let me hear you talk like that again. You don't think he's shot, eh, Weatherhead?" I said Heaven forgive me! that I thought it highly improbable. "He's not dead!" cried Mrs. Currie.
Brevoort and Weatherhead, was most gracefully and handsomely rewarded by them. In the course of the following spring, they presented Kit with a pair of magnificent revolvers. Upon the silver mountings, there were engraved a very few, but expressive words, indicating the obligations which the donors considered themselves laboring under towards their deliverer.
Logan, thinking Al had discovered some important weak spot in the defense, leaned forward attentively. Weatherhead rolled up, and carefully shielding his mouth with his hand, asked in a stage whisper 'Signal.
I said to the Frenchman. "I'll let you in, and we can discuss the matter quietly." Then, as we walked back together, I asked him eagerly what he would take to abandon his claims and let the colonel think the poodle was his after all. He agrees zat it is to me, you see? Ver' well, zen, zere is no more to be said!" "Why, Weatherhead, have you lost faith too, then?" said the colonel.
"Except one Algernon Weatherhead, Esq., eh?" whispered Travers, jocosely, in my ear. "No; but," persisted the colonel, advancing, "look here! Has the dog damaged any of your shrubs?" "No, no!" I cried, piteously; "quite the reverse. Let's all go indoors now; it's getting so cold!" "See, there is a shrub or something uprooted," said the colonel, still coming nearer that fatal hole.
Five minutes afterward, when she and I were alone together in the conservatory, where I had brought her on pretence of showing a new begonia, she laid her hand on my sleeve and whispered, almost shyly, "Mr. Weatherhead Algernon! Can you ever forgive me for being so cruel and unjust to you?" And I replied that, upon the whole, I could.
Fox was at once arrested. Messrs. Weatherhead and Brevoort were astounded when informed of the peril from which they had been rescued. Fox was carried back to Santa Fe and placed in jail. The merchants were entrusted to the care of fifteen men who could be relied upon. The rest of the gang were ordered immediately to leave the camp.
To this proposition Kit Carson replied in the negative. On hearing Kit's indignant refusal to be employed in such a menial undertaking, the officer concluded to lay the true state of the case before him, who, he naturally enough thought, could, above all others in that territory, devise some plan that would result in rescuing Brevoort and Weatherhead from their impending fate.
"Well," said the colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences, "don't go rolling over our Bingo by mistake, you know, Weatherhead, my boy. Not but what you've a sort of right after this only don't. I wouldn't go through it all twice for anything."
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