"Vy, de whole ting, señor, de whole ting."
He gazed directly into the partially upturned face of the other, as
though urging her also to speak.
"We do not in the least comprehend the situation here, Mr. Winston,"
she responded, her voice low and steady. "No one has taken the trouble
to explain. We realize, of course, it must be serious, but possibly
the strain would prove less if we understood clearly what must be met."
The engineer bowed, drawing toward him an empty cracker-box, and sat
down facing them both.
"I will relate the circumstances to you in all their unpleasantness,"
he began quietly. "Perhaps your woman wit may discover some loophole
which has escaped us." Clearly, yet rapidly, he reviewed the salient
points of the controversy between Farnham and the "Little Yankee," his
own brief connection with it, the discoveries made in the lower levels
of the "Independence," his desperate struggle with Burke, the swearing
out and serving of warrants, the sudden change in situation which had
placed them legally in the wrong, the accident to the sheriff, the curt
dismissal of his deputy, and the probable consequences. His voice grew
deep as he proceeded, marking the intense interest with which they
followed his recital. Then he unfolded briefly the plan adopted for
relief. It was the impulsive Mexican who broke the silence that
followed his conclusion.
"Si, I see dat!" she exclaimed, leaning eagerly forward, her head
between her hands. "Eet vas ver' good vay. But you tink dar be fight
soon? You tink so? Beell, he tink so? Den you no like dat de Señor
Brown be avay? No, no, you no like be lef' alone ven de fight come?
He big, strong, brav'; he bettah as ten men, hey? Eet vas so, I tell
you. I go vis de message, si; Señor Brown he stay here. Vould not dat
be de bettah?"
Winston shifted uneasily upon his cracker-box, his gaze wandering from
the animated face confronting him to that of the other farther back
amid the shadows, still grave and full of doubt.
"You?" he exclaimed in surprise. "Surely you do not suppose we would
ever permit you to attempt such a thing."
"No? An' vy not, señor?" springing impulsively to her feet, her eyes
opening wide. "Maybe you tink I not know how ride? Maybe you tink I
vas 'fraid of de dark? or dat I lose my vay? You tink me leetle girl,"
and she snapped her fingers indignantly. "Do dat? Of course I do dat!
Sapristi! Eet vas easy. Just ride twenty mile. Bah! I do dat lots
o' times. My pony he take me in tree, four hour sure. He nice pony,
an' he lofe Mercedes."
"But you do not know the way, girl, and the ride must be made at night."