"I got you where there's no comeback!" gritted Goles, and took careful
aim at Jan!--but did not fire. He felt a ring of cold metal pressed
against his neck and half turned to see what it was. "Don't shoot!
Don't!" he begged.
"You--" The word the bartender gritted out could not be heard, because
he pulled the trigger as he said it.
Goles sagged down until his knees rested on the deck. Then he fell
forward and over the side of the raft. There was the gentlest of
splashes, a patch of red--a cluster of bubbles which burst like sighs.
"Well!" said the bartender, and held up the revolver in wonder. "I never
thought I'd live to kill a man!" He looked to see how the others had
taken it, but they were paying no attention to him. He saw Jan holding
the baby and trying to hush its little cries for its mother, while the
baby's mother was pressing the tips of her fingers gently against the
upper part of the injured woman's right breast.
"You mustn't die! You mustn't die!" Jan said when the baby would let
him.
"I don't want to die--not now!" she answered.
The Finn woman looked up and smiled at Jan. "Not die. No, no--not die."
The raft grounded gently on the beach. Jan took the wounded girl and set
out for the top of the sand-hill with her. The bartender took the baby
and toiled behind with its mother.
"Say," said the bartender, "you're all right! How many more children to
home?"
"Home?" She held up seven fingers.
Pages:
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226