CHAPTER XII
A Tight Corner
"Jack, Jack. Aer yer there? aer yer there?"
The words came from Steve in an eager whisper, and, though repeated time and again, received no answer. Instead, the disabled hunter heard only the dull sound of blows, the hiss of sharply-indrawn breaths, and the snap of breaking twigs. He ground his teeth in his vexation and anxiety, but as he could not rise to his feet and walk, for his legs still refused to carry him, the gallant little fellow rolled on to his side and dragged himself towards the combatants. Very soon his eager fingers fell upon one of them.
"Injun!" he exclaimed, running his hand down the man's back and discovering the shoulders bare. "Then it are time I lent a hand."
Swiftly his fingers sought for his own hunting-knife, for Steve realized that the Indian was kneeling upon Jack, who lay beneath him, and argued from that fact that our hero was getting the worst of the conflict. Dragging his weapon from its sheath, he raised himself on one elbow, and made ready to strike. And to make sure that he had made no error, and that his blade was thrust in the right direction, he again groped for the shoulders he had felt a moment before. There they were, lean and muscular, and at once up went the knife, while Steve braced himself for the stroke. But he never delivered it; for of a sudden the straining muscles beneath his finger tips relaxed, the heaving, sinuous movements of the Indian's shoulders ceased, while the man seemed to become in one instant limp and helpless. He subsided on to his opponent, and then rolled heavily to the ground. The silence which followed was broken by the laboured breathing of one man only.
"Jack, Jack," whispered Steve again, his note more eager and anxious than before.
"Here," came the answer. "Here, safe and sound."
"Yer killed him?"
"Yes," gasped Jack.
"Gee! How?"
Jack sat beside his comrade for a minute and more before he ventured upon an answer. All the while he breathed deeply, in jerky spasms, as a man does who has been sorely tried, and who has striven to the last point of endurance. His whole frame was trembling with the intensity of the struggle, while his fingers were crooked and rigid with the strain of prolonged gripping. Then, getting his breath again, and the use of his fingers by gentle movements, he crept closer to Steve and whispered his answer.
"I had luck," he said. "He took me by surprise at first, and I wonder he didn't send his knife through me. But he missed his stroke, and before he could make another I had a grip of his wrist. At the same time my other hand got a hold on to his neck."
"Gee!" The scout gave vent to a low exclamation. "Yes?" he asked.
"I knew that was my only chance, so I hung on like a bull dog. He's dead, the life choked out of him."
"Sure? Sartin' he ain't foxin'. There never was any ter play possum like an Injun. Ye're dead sure he's done?"
Jack moved from the side of the hunter for one moment, and ran his hand over his late antagonist. There was not a doubt but that he was dead. The chest was motionless, and not a breath left the lips.
"He'll never fight again," he said sternly, creeping back to Steve. "Do you think they'll come to find him?"
There was a low growl from the hunter. "Think!" he whispered scornfully. "In course they will. But his absence'll make 'em mighty careful. I've told yer an Injun don't like to get beat. His game's always to kill, and go scot free himself. But they'll search this here group of trees till they find him, and then – "
He ended suddenly, and propped himself up to listen; for there was no need to explain what would happen. Even to Jack's inexperienced mind the ending was only too obvious. The horses had been found, and now themselves. Of that the Indians would have not the smallest doubt once their comrade failed to return, and failed also to answer their signals.
"Huh! There they go barkin' As ef any fool couldn't tell as it warn't a fox. That'll tell 'em right enough that something's happened," whispered Steve, "It ain't o' no use fer me to send 'em back the call, 'cos I can tell yer no white man can manage it proper. Them Injuns get practising when they're no higher than a dozen dollars piled one on t'other, and there ain't a one as tries it later on as kin git quite at the right sound. H-h-hish! Ain't that someone movin'?"
Intense silence fell upon them again, while Jack raised himself on his knees, so as to prepare for a second struggle. Yes, somewhere directly in front of him, and perhaps four yards away, a twig had stirred, while the gentle rustle of a leaf had reached him. He stooped, pressed Steve's hand to show him that he was ready, and then silently gripped a rifle which lay beside the hunter. To raise himself to his feet was the work of half a minute, for deathly silence was essential. But once upon them, he stood in a tense attitude, bending slightly, both hands gripping the barrel of his weapon, while the stock was raised above his head.
Click! The tip of a brier, or of one of the smaller branches of a bush, swished as it was released by some unseen hand. In that intense silence it sounded to our hero almost as loud as the report of a pistol. And it told him as clearly as possible that this new antagonist stealing up towards him was directly in front, and already somewhat nearer. He held his breath, and waited, his eyes staring into the darkness. Click! The sound was repeated.
And then, for one brief second, an uncanny sensation came over him. For something touched his boot, and that something ran nimbly up to his knees. Was it a forest mouse, scared by the intruder creeping towards Jack with murderous intent? Or was it the man himself?
Quick as a flash Jack decided the matter. A few weeks before he would have waited a little longer to make sure. But he had already had more than one lesson teaching him that indecision is often fatal. Besides, he knew now what he had never guessed before. He had already, this very evening, had an object lesson of the craft and stealth of the Indian, and realized that where a silent and unexpected attack was necessary their skill was phenomenal. Knowing that, Jack struck with all his strength. He struck blindly at the darkness, till the heavy butt of his rifle was stayed in its course by some unseen obstacle. Then he swung it up again, and sent it crashing through the air till once more its course was arrested.
"Gee! That are a blow. H-h-hist!"
It was Steve's voice, low and cautious, and with just the faintest trace of exultation in the note. For Steve was no craven, and even if he were powerless to defend himself, he could yet appreciate that power in others. And the hunter had been in so many engagements and had come successfully out of them, that now that the tables seemed turning a little in their favour, and the outlook did not appear quite so bad as it had done a little while ago, he could not help a feeling of exultation.
"Ef he ain't the boy, this here Carrots!" he murmured to himself, as he peered up in the direction in which he knew Jack stood. "Ef he ain't showing an old hand how these here things should be done. He jest cotched that feller an almighty whack on the head, and guess that's an end of him. Jack," he said a little louder.
"Well," came back the laconic answer.
"How'd yer come out of that 'ere business? Yer ketched him a whop? Eh?"
"Dead," said Jack curtly. "I felt his fingers on my leg. He didn't know exactly where I was till then. I struck out with the rifle, and – "
"Gee! Ef you ain't fine! But hist a moment. Them varmint'll be somewhares about."
It seemed indeed more than likely that the Indians who had entered the trees, and of whom three still remained, would endeavour to follow their comrades. Although Jack's rifle butt had slain the second man in absolute silence, his struggle with the first had produced sufficient noise to attract attention, and without a doubt the enemy were fully aware of the fact that the men they sought were amongst the trees. No doubt they were still uncertain of their exact position. But that was a difficulty which these crafty men would soon overcome.
"They'll send more of the young chaps in," whispered Steve, "and this time they'll hunt in couples. Jack, lad, ye've got ter do a bit more fightin' ef yer want ter keep yer haar."
"You think they will soon find us, now they know we are in the wood?" asked our hero suddenly, kneeling close to his comrade.
"Think!" At any other time Jack would have roared with laughing, for the little hunter's tones were full of indignation and contempt. "It don't want no thinkin'. A baby could tell yer that them critters would find us, and quick, too. That ain't what's worryin'. It's the fact that they'll come along in a bunch, and sence there's you alone to fight, why, in course, it don't leave us a dog's chance."
"And supposing they don't come along?" asked our hero. "Supposing they decide to leave the matter for a while."
"'Tain't likely. But ef they do, the end's jest the same. They'll set a close watch right round the place, and not one of them varmint'll close an eyelid till the light comes. Droppin' asleep when he's watchin' is a thing an Injun can't do. It's clean right up agin his nature."
"Then, that being the case, we'll not wait here either for them to attack us in a bunch or for them to find us in the morning."
Jack spoke quietly, and cautiously raised himself on to his feet. "I'm going to carry you to the edge of the trees, Steve," he whispered. "I tell you, if they're bound to find us in any case, so long as we stay where we are, why, I ain't going to stay to be butchered, and I ain't going to leave you, either. Just take a grip round my neck, and hold tight if we meet anything. That'll leave me with my hands free. Now."
Steve gaped at the words, and more at the tone of them than anything. Little by little as the moments had passed he had seen something in our hero which he had never detected before. He was wont to look upon Jack as a lad who, by accident perhaps, had been enabled to come between a band of train robbers and their victims. He did not deny that he had shown pluck. But that this young fellow was a fire eater, that he could on occasion become a stern, commanding man, and could coolly face a difficulty such as this one, had never occurred to him. More than that, Steve, with all his age and experience, had always been the one to lead and to guide, to give hints as to the manner of doing this, and timely warnings and advice as to the methods to be employed in some other sudden difficulty. Now, suddenly to find the position reversed, to know that Jack was giving orders, and was about to act as seemed best to himself, wholly regardless of his own inexperience, why, it took Steve's breath away.
"Gee! Ef he don't beat everything!" he murmured. "He jest treats me as ef I war a kid, and – and – "
"Hold fast, and don't worry if I have to drop you suddenly. I'll stand by you whatever happens. There! Up you come."
It was all done without hesitation, and in absolute silence. No one could have admonished Jack for lack of caution. His orders were whispered into Steve's ear, and every movement was slow and gradual. He stood, at length, to his full height, Steve gripping him round the neck, while with one arm he held the scout's useless legs suspended. The other hand gripped the haft of his formidable hunting-knife. Then he began a slow and stealthy progress towards the edge of the wood.
"Take yer time, take yer time," whispered Steve. "It would be fatal ter make so much as a sound."
Advancing inches only at a time, placing each foot cautiously in front of the other, and carefully avoiding branches which grew in the way, our hero at length reached the very edge of the trees. Once there he set down his burden for a few minutes, while he lay at full length, and placing his ear to the ground listened for sounds made by the enemy.
"Hist! Did yer hear that?" asked Steve, when some minutes had passed. "Them chaps is startin' in at the far side of the wood, and I should reckon as thar's a heap of 'em. Do yer hear 'em?"
Jack fancied he had heard some sounds, but was not at all certain. But to Steve there was not the smallest doubt.
"They're over yonder," he whispered, a note of conviction in his voice, "and I tell yer there's a good twenty of 'em, else there wouldn't be so much noise. It stands to reason that an Injun kin creep through a wood same as this silenter than a snake. But ef he's got a crowd of comrades with him, some of 'em's bound to be less careful. Yer kin take it from me, them critters has got it fixed in their minds that we're trying to make out over in that direction."
"Then all the better. Let 'em continue to think that," whispered Jack hoarsely. "We ain't going in that direction, but just clear out here in front of us, and if we meet one of their men, well – "
He came to an abrupt halt, leaving Steve to guess his meaning. But if ever determination were conveyed by the tones of a whisper, why, Jack's showed without a shadow of doubt that he was resolute. Indeed, those two death struggles in the wood had hardened him. A little while ago his thoughts had been entirely engaged with the task of escaping the enemy and rescuing his comrade. Now, however, added to that endeavour was a stubborn resolution to punish these men who had wantonly attacked him. He argued that if he with a number of friends had come upon a couple of harmless Indians, he would have shown them kindness, and would not have instantly sought their lives. Why, therefore, should these natives of the plain so diligently seek to kill him and Steve? What right had they to interfere with them? As they had dared to do so, why, they must be made to pay the penalty. In one brief hour, in fact, Jack, who hitherto had had no great dislike of the Indians, for the simple reason that he had never come across them, was possessed of an intense hatred for them, a burning animosity, a desire to come to hand grips with them, and a fierce determination to fight any who crossed his path. Nor in that was he different to the old hunters of the plains, men like Steve and Tom.
"I can see what they mean now," he thought, as he and Steve lay on the outskirts of the wood. "They've told me time and again how the people crossing over to California, to the diggin's, have scoffed at all fear of Indians, have imagined that they would become friendly with them without meeting with unusual difficulties. But those who have lived to reach the diggings have done so with a different understanding of the Indian. They know him by then to be a fierce and relentless enemy, a man who will butcher for the sake of butchering, and who will spare neither a sick white man nor a woman nor a child."
"Jest listen to 'em!" suddenly whispered Steve, interrupting Jack's thoughts. "Ef I ain't right I'll eat me boots. Them critters think we're makin' for the far side. They heard the ruction you had with them two varmint, and though they guess that something bad's happened to 'em, they aer wondering whether the noises ain't caused by us. Yer see, it's right up agin Injun nature and cunnin' ter make a sound. So, ef them noises wasn't caused by fightin', they was caused by us. Reckon a mouse couldn't get through on the far side."
"But a man can on this. Get a grip of my neck again," commanded Jack. "Now, I'm going to strike clear away into the open. If you hear or see anything, jest give my neck a squeeze. That'll stop me, and give me a warning."
It was lucky for our hero that he had such a crafty fellow as the little hunter with him, even if he happened to be helpless. But for Steve Jack would have blundered into one of the Indian sentries. As it was, Steve arrested him with a gentle squeeze of his arms within five minutes of their setting out.
"S-s-sh!" he whispered. "I seed something direct ahead, standin' up agin the white fringe of the clouds. It's an Injun, sure. He'll be shoutin' in a jiffy."
"Then we will turn and make along till we can pass him," suggested Jack.
"Yer might," came the cautious answer. "But I think as you'd be sartin to run up agin another of the varmint. Twenty yards is as much space as they'd dare allow between each man on a night same as this, and ef yer tried to pass between them it means you'd be within ten yards or so. That ain't enough. They'd be sartin ter spot yer. Let's lie down a spell. There ain't no sayin' what the critters aer doin'."
Jack took his advice promptly, for there was not a doubt but that the utmost caution was necessary. Steve might or might not have seen one of the Indian sentries, but it would be madness to attempt a forward movement till they were certain that the road was clear. So for a long quarter of an hour the two lay stretched side by side, the cunning little hunter with his ear glued to the ground, while Jack peered into the darkness ahead. Then, suddenly, a commotion was heard from the direction of the wood. A shrill call awoke the echoes, while instantly following it came that well-known signal, crisp and clearly, now from the centre of the wood, later from one end, and immediately afterwards from the far side.
"Them critters has lit upon the men as attacked you," said Steve hoarsely. "Reckon when the hull lot gets to know that two of their pals is dead there'll be a bit of a bother. It'll make 'em downright mad. But they ain't goin' ter take us, Jack. Somehow, after all that's happened, I feel as ef we was bound to come through, ef only to give me a chance of talkin' ter the boys. But it ain't goin' ter be done easy. Ye've got ter – hist! – That 'ere chap's movin'."
Keen and ever watchful, Steve detected a movement in front instantly, and in a moment he had gripped Jack by the arm, and was directing his attention in that direction.
"He's riding this way. See him? Gee! ef he ain't comin' right on top of us."
"Lie still. Leave him to me," said Jack, peering ahead of him. "Do you think he'll see us easy as we lie here?"
"Might – mightn't," came the curt answer. "Jest depends. Ef he's listenin' to them critters over thar in the wood, why, maybe his eyes'll not happen to spot us. But, as a gineral rule, there ain't no sayin' what an Injun won't see. A needle ain't much too small for the varmint. Ef he comes close, what'll you do?"
"S-s-sh! He's coming quick. Lie still."
Pressing the hunter down with one hand, Jack lay himself full length, his body squeezed as close to the ground as possible, and in that position he had no difficulty in detecting a figure riding towards him. The man was urging his horse on, for there came the dull sound of a moccasined heel applied to the side of the animal. And then followed the muffled thud of the footfalls. Yes, the Indian was riding in a line which would take him almost over the bodies of those he sought, and in that event, even if he himself failed to detect the two figures prone in the grass, the animal would not miss them. Jack braced himself on hands and knees, his feet drawn up beneath him as a panther gathers its limbs preparatory to a spring, and there, hardly daring to breathe, he waited, while the footfalls came nearer. A moment or two later the animal was almost over him. Then it suddenly drew to one side, shying so unexpectedly that the rider was almost thrown. But, gripping the saddle with his knees, the Indian retained his seat, and at the same moment pulled at his reins, for he as yet had seen nothing. It was an opportunity not to be missed, and promptly Jack launched himself at the man. With one bound he was beside him, then, quick as lightning, he gripped him by arm and leg, and, tearing him from his seat, threw him heavily to the ground.
CHAPTER XIII
Dodging the Enemy
There was an intense silence immediately after Jack had thrown the Indian, broken only by his own deep breathing.
"Dead?" asked Steve huskily, for the stress of the fighting and their difficulties were beginning to tell upon the little hunter. "Ye've killed him – eh? I never knew an Injun downed so easy."
"Stunned, I think," whispered Jack sternly. "He's still breathing a little."
"Foxin'? You're dead sartin he ain't foxin'? I've knowed one of the critters lie as if he was as dead as meat, and then get his knife into the man as thought he'd downed him. Aer yer sure? 'Cos if you ain't – "
"Certain," came Jack's emphatic answer. "He fell on his head with a terrible bang, and he'll not recover for a time. Jest take a grip round my neck. We're going to move."
They had spoken in low whispers only, for neither had forgotten that in all probability there were Indian sentries on either side of them. However, it did seem now that fortune was to be kind to them; for at this very moment the outcry which had broken out some few minutes earlier from the direction of the wood was again heard.
Shrill, angry calls came through the darkness, and were answered from a dozen different directions. Then, immediately to the right of them there came a muffled thump, followed by the dull sounds of a horse's footfalls.
"Warn't I right?" asked Steve. "Another of the critters thar, and a second 'way to the left. Now's your time, young 'un. Let's git as slippy as we can."
Jack needed no second invitation. He too had heard the sounds on the right and those calls from the wood; and, realizing that, though the distraction had come just at the critical moment, and would call off the attention of the circle of watchers from themselves, yet it indicated probably a full discovery of that struggle which had taken place amongst the trees, and with it a knowledge that the fugitives had fled, he gripped Steve firmly in his arms and swung him up on to the back of the Indian pony; for the well-trained beast had remained beside its fallen master. To sling his rifle and leap up behind the hunter was the work of a moment, and straightway he set the animal in motion. But almost instantly he was faced by another difficulty.
"Where away?" he asked, for the darkness confused him.
"Dead straight ahead fer a while," came the whispered answer; "then slick ter the right, whar our camp lies. Likely as not some of the boys is riding over ter meet us, for they'll have reckoned by this that things aer queer. Gently does it, Carrots. There ain't no use hurryin'."
At a gentle walk, therefore, they rode away from the small collection of trees which had proved their salvation, and at the same time had very nearly seen their ending. When the pony had covered a quarter of a mile, or thereabouts, Jack turned it to the right, and, setting the plucky little beast at a trot, went on into the night.
"They'll follow?" he asked, after a while; for the cries which they had heard for some time had ceased now for the past five minutes. "I suppose they found those two men and then had a palaver, as you call it?"
"Yer kin put it like that. Them critters has had a hard nut to crack, 'cos, don't yer see, the trees and the darkness bothered 'em. Yes, they found them two critters you downed in the wood, and, in course, they made sartin we was still there, in hidin', but shifted from the old quarters. So they sent their best men in ter ferret around, and in a while they found not a soul save their own comrades."
"That is when we heard their cries, I suppose?" said Jack.
"Right agin. That aer when they began ter shriek. That ain't much like Injuns, and jest shows that their dander's been properly up. They sets to, then, to have a palaver, and – Gee! That aer bad!"
Once more a chorus of shouts came from behind them, and told Jack and his comrades that something more had occurred to disturb the enemy and raise their anger.
"It aer as clear as daylight," said Steve shortly. "Them varmint was bothered when they found the wood empty, and set to to cast all round, and question the critters placed there to watch. They've jest dropped on the feller as you pulled off this here hoss, and – wall, even on a dark night an Injun'll follow a trail."
"How?" Jack was a practical fellow, and this night's adventure had made him critical. He failed to see how even the most astute tracker could follow a trail in the darkness. But Steve soon enlightened him.
"'Twont take 'em many minutes," he said, a note of conviction in his voice. "Yer see, it don't matter to them ef we get to know as they're follerin'. They has it fer sure that we're gettin' away on one of their ponies, and that he's got ter carry double weight. That tells 'em plain that they can easily catch us up once they're on the trail. So they ain't likely to make no bones about the matter. They'll strip the bark off some of them pines and make torches. That'll light the way, and show 'em what line we've took. Now, how aer we to get top side of 'em?"
The little hunter lapsed into silence, while Jack dug his heels into the pony and set him at a fast canter. But it was clear that the animal could not keep up the pace for long. He was not a big pony, indeed was hardly up to Jack's weight. With Steve added he was decidedly overweighted, and the next quarter of an hour proved that fact without the shadow of doubt. The Indian horse was blowing heavily by then, and going slower.
"It stands ter reason he can't last," cried Steve suddenly. "Now I'll tell yer what we'll do. This last ten minutes we've been riding down a slope, and there's a rise behind us which hides them Injuns. We can't say as they're on the trail yet, 'cos we can't see. Likely enough they've got their torches by now, and are skirmishing round fer the trail. If that's so, they'll be after us afore two minutes. But that 'ere rise hides us jest the same, and it'll give us one more chance. Jack, aer yer willing ter do what I suggest?"
"Perfectly. Anything but leave you. I've taken you in charge, and I don't leave you behind for anything."
There was a ring in Jack's voice, a manly, elated tone, which told the little hunter that his companion was anything but disheartened. There was a suspicion of raillery in the voice, and the tone tickled Steve immensely. He leaned back against our hero and laughed heartily, a laugh which shook him, but which, with all his native caution, was as silent as a gentle whisper.
"Yer do fetch the band!" he smiled. "Ef I ain't beat holler, and thet by a townsman. But 'tain't a time ter play, leastwise not yet. Them varmint ain't done with us by a long way. Now jest yer listen. A friend of mine, an old hunter, war once up agin a difficulty same almost as this. And he jest played a trick that cleared the Injuns. It aer our one chance, and we'll take it. The wind's in our faces, though I ain't so sartain that it'll stay thar. Ef it don't, the trap we set'll catch us instead of the Injuns. Jack, jest hop right down and get a bunch of that 'ere grass."
Quick as lightning Jack slipped to the ground, and did as Steve suggested.
"Now, set it afire, and slippy with it. When it's blazin' properly, jest run along with it and fire the grass in as many places as yer can. Don't wait a second longer than you're obleeged ter."
There was a note of tense excitement in the hunter's voice, and he watched eagerly as Jack struck a match and fired a bundle of grass. Then he chuckled as a spout of flame burst from each patch of the long prairie growth he touched.
"Ef anything'll save us, it's that," he said to himself; "save us or cook us. That 'ere fire ain't ten yards wide now, but you wait. In ten minutes it'll have spread to a mile if the wind holds. Get at it, Jack. Hop along as fer as yer like. The farther the better."
Long before this Jack had grasped Steve's meaning, and had realized that in proposing to fire the grass he hoped to stretch a curtain of flame between them and the Indians. But never in all his life had he been so utterly astounded at the result of his action. For it was at the end of the hot weather, and the long rank grass which just there covered the plains was as dry as tinder. Indeed, more than once lately they had observed prairie fires; but some irregularity of the ground, a river, or some hilly and broken ground had in every case limited the conflagration. But even those glimpses of fires had given our hero no idea of their tremendous spread, of the fearful rate at which the line of fire progressed, for distance had diminished everything. Now, however, the thing was at his elbow, and he was struck with awe. As if eager for the flames, the grass caught in every direction, and then surged away with a seething hissing sound, casting up but little smoke. It raced from him on every hand. Patches which he had ignited ten yards from one another were joined hand in hand before he could think, so that in an incredibly short space of time a wall of fire lay before him. He was terrified at his handiwork. But Steve was jubilant.
"Hop on, and let's git," he said easily, as Jack returned to him. "Ef the wind don't change there'll be a wall of fire round which them Injuns'll have to ride, and they won't fancy the business over much. 'Sides, they'll have to divide. There won't be any knowing whether we've gone dead straight on or have turned to one or other side. Gee! Ef this ain't a doin'."
"Supposing the wind does turn?" asked Jack, digging his heels into the horse and setting it at a slow canter.
"Yer won't have much longer need ter worry. This here trouble that you've got tucked out er sight at the back of yer mind'll be done with, 'cos there won't be no escapin'. This hoss couldn't do it, onless he had only one to carry, and I've got the idea as you ain't goin' ter quit with me till things aer quieted down a bit."
Jack heard the little scout chuckling as if it were a good joke, and then felt his bony, strong fingers suddenly fall upon his hand.
"I ain't pokin' fun at yer, lad," said Steve seriously, a little jerk in his voice. "But I aer fair amused ter think that a townsman aer done it, and aer been able to show Steve somethin'. It jest fetches the wind out o' my sails, as the mariners say. Yer see, bein' an old scout, I kinder took you by the hand ter show yer a thing or two. And kinder reckoned ef we got into a muss, as ain't so unlikely hereabouts, I'd be able to protect yer. But, gee! ef this ain't jist the opposite. Reckon ye've saved my life ten times over, Jack. Ye've a right to feel proud of yerself, for ye've done it cold. Do yer foller?"