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Garvey and Shank, acting quicker than their red allies, drew their revolvers. "Get him! Shoot 'em down!" they yelled. But Kid Wolf had seized the gun he had placed in Blizzard's stirrup. He dropped to his knees to the sand, just as lead hummed over his head. Dave Robbins had struck one of the amazed Apaches and had jerked his rifle away from him.
Anger against Garvey and his hired killers suddenly overcame him. A hot wave seemed to sweep over him. He turned about and faced, not the distant San Simon, but in the direction of his enemies. "I'll get some of 'em before I go, Kid!" he cried. As if in answer, something came to his ears that brought a cry of joy to the youth.
It was signed John P. Garvey, Secretary, and was inclosed with a note bearing the same signature: DEAR MADAM: Herewith I send you a check for forty dollars for the first week's salary under your arrangement with Mr. Brent. No receipt is necessary. Until further notice a check for the same amount will be mailed you each Thursday.
Yours truly, JOHN C. GARVEY. It was a fair specimen of Garvey's official style, with which she had become acquainted the style of the secretary who has learned by experience not to use frills or flourishes but to convey his message in the fewest and clearest words.
"'Don't whistle, Mary, there's a good girl, the priest says," related Miss Garvey. "'I never like to hear a girl whistle, he says. Well, so that night Aggie," Aggie was Miss Kelly "Aggie wrote a question, and she put it in the question-box they had at church for questions during the Mission. 'Is it a sin to whistle? she wrote.
In any case, its sympathizers and well-wishers were ubiquitous. The "respectable" N.A.A.C.P. never reached such grass-roots support, and even with its white liberal financing, its capital was much smaller than that which Garvey was able to tap from the lower-class blacks alone. Garvey advocated a philosophy of race redemption.
Garvey had evidently succeeded in adding men to his gang, for more than a dozen gun flashes burst out at once. The attackers soon learned, however, that it wasn't healthy to attempt to rush the adobe. Surrounding it was impossible, and for a while they contented themselves with sending lead humming through the small window on the exposed side of the hut.
How you goin' to break it to a gent sittin' by your own fireside that maybe he's a bit rough in the neck, or too much of a yawp to fit into the refined and exclusive circle that patronizes the 8:03 bankers' express? As I see it, the thing can't be done. "Excuse me, Mr. Garvey," says I, "but if there's been any true bill handed in by a pink tea grand jury it's been done without consultin' me.
None had seen him, however, and Garvey went on to tell what had happened. "How many men did he take with him?" Stephenson wanted to know. "About a dozen." "Bear Claw will wipe him out, then," grinned Al Arnold. "Somehow I don't think so," said Garvey. "And if that stage deal fails us " "A twenty-thousand-dollar job!" Shank barked angrily. "And we get half!" "We get all," chuckled Garvey.
The question was merely the protruding end of a train of thought years long and pursued all that time with scarcely an interruption. It seemed abrupt; to Garvey it sounded brutal. Off his guard, he showed in flooding color and staring eye how profoundly it shocked him. Susan saw, but she did not explain; she was not keeping accounts in emotion with the world. She waited patiently.
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