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|Snow-Bound at Eagle's||Bret Harte|
|Page 6 of 9||
"Open that door now--softly."
Manuel obeyed with trembling fingers.
"Ned" said Lee in a low voice, "bring him in here--quick."
There was a slight rustle, and Falkner appeared, backing in another gasping figure, whose eyes were starting under the strong grasp of the captor at his throat.
"Silence," said Lee, "all of you."
There was a breathless pause. The sound of a door hesitatingly opened in the passage broke the stillness, followed by the gentle voice of Mrs. Scott.
"Is anything the matter?"
Lee made a slight gesture of warning to Falkner, of menace to the others. "Everything's the matter," he called out cheerily. "Ned's managed to half pull down the house trying to get at something from my saddle-bags."
"I hope he has not hurt himself," broke in another voice mischievously.
"Answer, you clumsy villain," whispered Lee, with twinkling eyes.
"I'm all right, thank you," responded Falkner, with unaffected awkwardness.
There was a slight murmuring of voices, and then the door was heard to close. Lee turned to Falkner.
"Disarm that hound and turn him loose outside, and make no noise. And you, Manuel! tell him what his and your chances are if he shows his black face here again."
Manuel cast a single, terrified, supplicating glance, more suggestive than words, at his confederate, as Falkner shoved him before him from the room. The next moment they were silently descending the stairs.
"May I go too, captain?" entreated Manuel. "I swear to God--"
"Shut the door!" The man obeyed.
"Now, then," said Lee, with a broad, gratified smile, laying down his whip and pistol within reach, and comfortably settling the pillows behind his back, "we'll have a quiet confab. A sort of old-fashioned talk, eh? You're not looking well, Manuel. You're drinking too much again. It spoils your complexion."
"Let me go, captain," pleaded the man, emboldened by the good-humored voice, but not near enough to notice a peculiar light in the speaker's eye.
"You've only just come, Manuel; and at considerable trouble, too. Well, what have you got to say? What's all this about? What are you doing here?"
The captured man shuffled his feet nervously, and only uttered an uneasy laugh of coarse discomfiture.
"I see. You're bashful. Well, I'll help you along. Come! You knew that Hale was away and these women were here without a man to help them. You thought you'd find some money here, and have your own way generally, eh?"
The tone of Lee's voice inspired him to confidence; unfortunately, it inspired him with familiarity also.
"I reckoned I had the right to a little fun on my own account, cap. I reckoned ez one gentleman in the profession wouldn't interfere with another gentleman's little game," he continued coarsely.
"Up, I say!"
Manuel stood up and glanced at him.
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