But he was not inclined to be put off. The mountaineer's slow mind had
been at work with his great problem and he had quite determined that he
would take some action, definite and unmistakable, without delay. He had
leaned his ever-present rifle up against a stump, had laid the old
game-sack, still burdened with the stolen dynamite, upon the ground,
close to it, and was prepared to talk the matter out, to one end or the
other. He loved her with the fierce love of the primitive man; his
rising wrath against the circumstances amidst which he seemed to be so
powerless had made him sullen and suspicious; mountain life, continual
defiance of the law, unceasing watchfulness for "revenuers," does not
teach a man to be smooth-mannered, half-way in his methods. He made a
move as if to catch her arm; she darted by him, running straight toward
the old game-sack.
That burden in the game-sack had been a constant horror to him ever
since he had first stolen it down at the railroad workings. The mighty
evidence of the power of the explosive which had been shown to him when
it had torn and mangled its poor victim there, had filled him with a
terror of it, although it had also filled him with determination to make
use of that great power if necessary. But now, as he saw her running,
light-footed, lovely, toward the bag which held it, running in exactly
the right way to stumble on it if a mis-step chanced, his heart sprang
to his throat. What if the dire explosive he had planned to use upon his
enemies should prove to be the death of the one being whom he loved? He
sprang toward her with the mighty impulse of desperate muscles spurred
by a panic-stricken mind and caught her, roughly, just before her foot
would have touched and spurned the game-sack.
"Stop!" he cried, in desperation.
She was amazed that he should take so great a liberty. She stopped,
perforce, but, after she had stopped, she stood there trembling with hot
anger. "Joe Lorey," she exclaimed, "you dare!"
Now he was all humility as he let his hand fall from her arm. "It was
for your sake, Madge," said he. "A stumble on that sack--it mout have
sent us both to Kingdom Come!"
She looked at him incredulously, then down at the sack. "That old
game-sack? Why, Joe, you're plumb distracted!"
"I'm in my senses, yet, I tell you," he persisted. "T'other day I went
down where they're blastin' for th' railroad. I see 'em usin'
dynamighty, down thar, an' I watched my chance an', when it come, I
slipped one o' th' bombs into that game-sack. Ef you'd chanced to kick
it--"
She was impressed. "Dynamighty bombs? Dellaw! What's dynamighty bombs?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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