Short stories, American; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
The doctor's eyes began to twinkle. "Very well," he said presently. "I
will sit here and observe this rescue. And on no account do you warn
them that I am here. Understand?"
Of course Jimmie understood. He had been mad to warn his friends, but
his father's mere presence had frightened him from doing it. He stood
trembling at the window, while the doctor stretched in an easy-chair
near at hand. They waited. The doctor could tell by his son's
increasing agitation that the great moment was near. Suddenly he heard
Willie Dalzel's voice hiss out a word: "S-s-silence!" Then the same
voice addressed Jimmie at the window: "Good cheer, my comrade. The
time is now at hand. I have come. Never did the Red Captain turn his
back on a friend. One minute more and you will be free. Once aboard my
gallant craft and you can bid defiance to your haughty enemies. Why
don't you hurry up? What are you standin' there lookin' like a cow
for?"
"I--er--now--you--" stammered Jimmie.
Here Hold-up Harry, the Terror of the Sierras, evidently concluded
that Willie Dalzel had had enough of the premier part, so he said:
"Brace up, pard. Don't ye turn white-livered now, fer ye know that
Hold-up Harry, the Terrar of the Sarahs, ain't the man ter--"
"Oh, stop it!" said Willie Dalzel. "He won't understand that, you
know. He's a pirate. Now, Jimmie, come on. Be of light heart, my
comrade. Soon you--"
"I 'low arter all this here long time in jail ye thought ye had no
friends mebbe, but I tell ye Hold-up Harry, the Terrar of the
Sarahs--"
"A boat is waitin'--"
"I have ready a trusty horse--"
Willie Dalzel could endure his rival no longer.
"Look here, Henry, you're spoilin' the whole thing. We're all pirates,
don't you see, and you're a pirate too."
"I ain't a pirate. I'm Hold-up Harry, the Terrar of the Sarahs."
"You ain't, I say," said Willie, in despair. "You're spoilin'
everything, you are. All right, now. You wait. I'll fix you for this,
see if I don't! Oh, come on, Jimmie. A boat awaits us at the foot of
the rocks. In one short hour you'll be free forever from your
ex--exewable enemies, and their vile plots. Hasten, for the dawn
approaches."
[Illustration: "THEY WHIRLED AND SCAMPERED AWAY LIKE DEER"]
The suffering Jimmie looked at his father, and was surprised at what
he saw. The doctor was doubled up like a man with the colic. He was
breathing heavily. The boy turned again to his friends. "I--now--look
here," he began, stumbling among the words. "You--I--I don't think
I'll be rescued to-day."
The pirates were scandalized. "What?" they whispered, angrily. "Ain't
you goin' to be rescued? Well, all right for you, Jimmie Trescott.
That's a nice way to act, that is!" Their upturned eyes glowered at
Jimmie.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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