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"Clap that into her mouth," whispered Philip, handing Rawbon his handkerchief rolled tightly into a ball. "Quietly now, but quick. Look out now. She's strong as a trooper."
"Oh, that's all right," said Courtenay, "come along now." "When we find your bunch," said Rawbon as they moved off, "if you could make some sort of excuse out loud, and fade from the scene a minute and leave me there with the men, I'll sure get some of the dandiest snaps I'd wish. I reckon it'll satisfy the crowd if I promise to send 'em copies.
Every bomb has gone in behind the parado there. He might try a few more to shake them before we advance." "Behind the parakeet," snorted Rawbon. "I should smile. You watch! I'll put some through the darn loopholes for you. Didn't know I was pitcher to the Purple Socks, the year we whipped the League, did you?
In an instant several knives were drawn, and Rawbon, spluttering an oath through the spurting blood that choked his utterance, drew a revolver from its holster at his side. The entrance of the two young men was timely.
Especially about not liking it." "I'm beginning to think you'd be better off these premises," said Courtenay. "I ought to be with my company if any trouble is coming off. And it might lead to questions and unpleasantness if you were found here especially if you're a casualty, or I am." "Nuff sed, Loo-tenant," said Rawbon promptly. "I don't want that sort o' trouble for various reasons.
It's bad enough us taking risks we have to, but " "Yes, you spoke that piece, Loo-tenant," said Rawbon, "but I want to see all there is on show now I'm here. Only don't expect me to shriek with hilarious mirth every time a shell busts six inches off my nose." They had halted for a moment, and now another crackling string of light shells burst along the trench.
They approached her without noise, but suddenly, and while Philip grasped her wrists, Rawbon threw back her head, and forcing the jaws open by a violent pressure of his knuckles against the joint, thrust the handkerchief between her teeth and bound it tightly there with two turns of his sash. The shriek was checked upon her lips and changed into a painful, gurgling groan.
Rawbon, who throughout the confusion had been watching for the opportunity of a shot at his antagonist, now found himself front to front with the object of his hate, for the bystanders had instinctively drawn back a space, and even Wayne and Weems, willing to trust to their friend's coolness and judgment, had stepped aside. Harold sighted his man as coolly as if he had been aiming at a squirrel.
"Then I remain with them," she replied, with dignity and firmness. The man who had first remonstrated with Rawbon, stepped up to him and laid his hand heavily on his shoulder: "Look here, Seth Rawbon, you've played out your hand in this game, now mind that. Miss Weems, you're free to go, anyhow, with them chaps or not, just as you like."
"They made an attack here about a week back, and there's a tidy few fertilizin' out there now to say nothin' of some of ours we can't get in." Rawbon squirmed uneasily to think he should, however unwittingly, have jested about their dead, but nobody there seemed in any way shocked or resentful.
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