It was swollen
shut, puffed out to the size of a goose-egg, and blue as indigo. Dick had
certainly landed hard on Bill. Then I turned round to see Dick sitting
against the little sapling, bound fast with a lasso. His clean face did not
look as if he had been in a fight; he was smiling, yet there was anxiety in
his eyes.
"Ken, now you've played hob," he said. It was a reproach, but his look made
me proud.
"Oh, Dick, if you hadn't called out!" I exclaimed.
"Darned if you're not right! But it was a slick job, and you'll tickle Jim
to death. I was an old woman. But that cold knife-blade made me jump."
I glanced round the camp for the Mexican and Bud and the fifth man, but
they were gone. Bill varied his occupation of the moment by kneading
biscuit dough in a basin. Then there came such a severe pain in my head
that I went blind for a little while. "What's the matter with my head?
Who hit me?" I cried.
"Bud slugged you with the butt of his pistol," said Dick. "And, Ken, I
think you saved me from being knifed by the Greaser. You twisted his arm
half off. He cursed all night. . . . Ha! there he comes now with your
outfit."
Sure enough, the Mexican appeared on the trail, leading my horses. I was so
glad to see Hal that I forgot I was a prisoner. But Greaser's sullen face
and glittering eyes reminded me of it quickly enough.
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