*CHAPTER XV*
_*In Which the Tables Are turned--at Some Cost*_
After that peace came, and I dozed again.
It was a shot, followed by a scream, that awoke me; and those kind godswho guard us in our sleep and in our waking caused me even at thatmoment not to obey the sudden impulse to leap up. Instead, I flung myhand to my revolver and lay flat--and in doing so saved my life.
Beside me, with the first quick opening of my eyes, I saw Donoghue kickin his blankets, like a cat in a sack, and then lie still, and thesecond shot rang in my ears, fired by the man Dan from across the fireand aimed at me. But truly, it was fated that Dan should go first ofthese two who remained with us of his side, as Farrell had called it,and it was I who was fated to do the deed. Let me put it in that way, Ibeg of you. Let me say "fated" in this instance, if in no other, for itis a terrible thing to slay a man. And then I saw what had befallen,after my shot had gone home and Dan lay on his face where he hadfallen--dead, with the light of morning, of a new day, just quivering upthe eastern sky, and making the thing more ghastly.
Farrell and he must have quietly whispered over their plan where theylay--to make a sudden joint attack upon us. Dan's part had evidentlybeen to put an end to Larry and to me, while Farrell attended to ApacheKid; for there was Farrell now with a revolver in each hand, and bothwere held to Apache Kid's head.
At hearing my shot, for a moment Farrell glanced round, and, seeing thatDan had failed in his attempt, he cried out: "If you move, I kill ApacheKid here, right off. Mind now! I kill him--and let the Lost Cabin Mineslide. We 'll see who 's boss o' this round up!"
And then it suddenly struck me as strange that they had not reckoned onthe other two who were with us,--Mr. Pinkerton and the half-breed. Evenas I was then considering their daring, there came a moan from besideme. I flung round at the sound, and there lay Pinkerton with his handto his breast. Yes; I understood now. That sound that woke me was notof one shot; it was two,--Dan's first shot at Larry, and Farrell's atMr. Pinkerton. But what of the half-breed? I bent to Mr. Pinkertonand, with my hand under his neck, said: "O, Mr. Pinkerton! Mr.Pinkerton! O, Mr. Pinkerton! can I do anything for you?"
He looked upon me with his kind eyes, full of the last haze now, andgasped: "My girl! My girl! You will----" and he leant heavy in my arms.
"I will see to her," said I. "O, sir! this you have got for us. It isthrough us that this has happened. I will see that she never wants."
These or some words such as these I spoke,--for I never could rightlyrecall the exact speech in looking back on that sad affair.
"You--you are all right, my son," he said, "but if Apache Kid gets outo' this--he 's--he's more fit like for----"
I saw his hand fumble again on his breast, and thought it was in anattempt to open his shirt; but then I caught the agony in his eye, suchas you may have seen on a dumb man trying to make himself understood andfailing in the attempt. Something of that look, but more woeful, morepiteous to see, was on his face. He was trying to hold his hand to me;when I took it, he smiled and said:
"You or Apache--Meg." And that was the last of this kindly and likeableman who had done so much for us.
But what of the half-breed? Was he, too, slain? Not so; but he was of amore cunning race than I am sprung of. When I laid back Mr. Pinkerton'shead and again looked around, the half-breed was gone from the placewhere he had lain.
There, on his belly almost, he was creeping upon Farrell from the rear.To me it seemed the maddest and most forlorn undertaking.
There was Farrell with the two revolvers held to Apache Kid's head,talking softly, too quietly for me to hear, and Apache Kid replying in alow tone without any attempt at rising. And Farrell cried out: "Nobodytry to fire on me! At a shot I fire too! My fingers is jest ready. I'm a desperate man."
I crouched low, my breath held in dread, my heart pounding in my side,at long intervals, so that I thought it must needs burst. I did noteven dare look again at that crawling savage, lest Farrell might perhapscast another such quick glance as he had already bestowed on me and,seeing the direction of my gaze, realise his danger.
The result of such a discovery I dared not imagine. There was enoughhorror already, without addition. It was just then that Donoghue gave aqueer little wheezing moan and his eyes opened; but even as I turned tohim, "crash!" went a shot and I spun round, a cry on my lips; and therelay Apache Kid, as I had seen him before Donoghue's voice called me awayfrom observing him. But now he had clutched Farrell's right wrist inwhat must have been a mighty sudden movement, and was pushing it fromhim. He had leapt sidewise a little way, but without attempting torise.
There, thrusting away, in a firm grasp, the hand that held the smokingweapon, he still looked up in Farrell's eye, the other revolver beforehim so that he must have looked fairly into it.
"You durn fool!" said Farrell. "You think I did n't mean what I said?Well, let me tell you that I run no more chances. Oh! you need n'tgrasp this arm so fierce. I don't have to use it. But, Apache Kid, I'm goin' to kill you now. I reckon that that there Lost Cabin ain't forany of us,--not for you, for sure. Are you ready?"
"Quite ready," I heard Apache Kid say, his voice as loud as Farrell'snow, but more exultant still. It horrified me to hear his voice socallous as he looked on death. I wondered if now I should not risk ashot as a last hope to save him.
"There, then!" cried Farrell.
But there followed only the metallic tap of the hammer,--no report, onlythat steely click; and before one could well know what had happened,Apache Kid was the man on top, shoving Farrell's head down in the sand,but still clutching Farrell's right wrist and turning aside that handthat held the weapon which, on his first sudden movement, had sent itsbullet into the sand beside Apache.
"You goat!" cried Apache Kid. "When you intend to use two guns, seethat they both are loaded, or else don't hold the one that you 've firedthe last from right in front of----" He broke off and flung up hishead, like a wolf baying, and laughed.
He was a weird sight then, his face blackened from the shot he hadevaded. But by this time, I need hardly tell you, I was by his side,helping to hold down the writhing Farrell--and the half-breed brought usthe lariat from his horse and we trussed Farrell up, hands and feet, andthen stood up. And as we turned from him there was Donoghue sitting upwith a foolish look on his face and the blood trickling on his brow;and, pointing a hand at us, he cried out, "Come here, some o' you sonso' guns, and tie up my head a bit so as I kin git up and see his hangin'afore I die."
Farrell writhed afresh in his bonds as he heard Donoghue's cry, and in avoice in which there seemed nothing human, he roared, "What! is thatfeller Donoghue not killed?"
"No, sir!" Donoghue replied, his head falling and his chin on hisbreast, but eyes looking up, with the blood running into them from underhis ragged eyebrows: "No, sir,--after you!" he cried, and he let outthat hideous oath that I had heard him use once before, but cannotpermit myself to write or any man to read.