Page:Scribner's Monthly, Volume 12 (May–October 1876).djvu/215

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GABRIEL CONROY.
209

was looking. Lord, she wouldn't have given it to me. I reckon those relatives of hers would have made it very lively for me if they suspected it. Hoss-stealing ain't a circumstance to this, Gabriel," said Jack, with a reckless laugh. Then, with equal frankness, and a picturesque freedom of description, he related his first and only interview with Donna Dolores. I am glad to say that this scamp exaggerated, if anything, the hopelessness of his case, dwelt but slightly on his own services, and concealed the fact that Donna Dolores had even thanked him. "You can reckon from this the extent of my affection for that Johnny Ramirez, and why I just froze to you when I heard you'd dropped him. But come now, it's your deal; tell us all about it. The boys put it up that he was hangin' round your wife, and you went for him for all he was worth. Go on, I'm waiting, and—" added Jack, as a spasm of pain passed across his face, "and aching to that degree that I'll yell if you don't take my mind off it."

But Gabriel's face was grave, and his lips silent as he bent over Mr. Hamlin to adjust the bandages.

"Go on," said Jack, darkly, "or I'll tear off these rags and bleed to death before your eyes. What are you afraid of? I know all about your wife; you can't tell me anything about her. Didn't I spot her in Sacramento—before she married you—when she had this same Chilino, Ramirez, on a string. Why, she's fooled him as she has you. You ain't such a blasted fool as to be struck after her still, are you? " and Jack raised himself on his elbow the more intently to regard this possibly transcendent idiot.

"You was speakin' o' this Mexican, Ramirez," said Gabriel, after a pause, fixing his now clear and untroubled eyes on his interlocutor.

"Of course," roared out Jack, impatiently; "did you think I was talking of—?"

Here Mr. Hamlin offered a name that suggested the most complete and perfect antithesis known to modern reason.

"I didn't kill him!" said Gabriel, quietly.

"Of course not," said Jack, promptly. "He sorter stumbled and fell over on your bowie-knife as you were pickin' your teeth with it. But go on. How did you do it? Where did you spot him? Did he make any fight? Has he got any sand in him?"

"I tell ye I didn't kill him!"

"Who did, then?" screamed Jack, furious with pain and impatience.

"I don't know; I reckon—that is—" and Gabriel stopped short, with a wistful, perplexed look at his companion.

"Perhaps, Mr. Gabriel Conroy," said Jack, with sudden coolness and deliberation of speech, and a baleful light in his dark eyes—"perhaps you'll be good enough to tell me what this means—what is your little game? Perhaps you'll kindly inform me what I'm lying here crippled for; what you were doing up in that court-house, when you were driving those people crazy with excitement; what you're hiding here in this blank family vault for; and, may be, if you've got time, you'll tell me what was the reason I made that pleasant little trip to Sacramento? I know I required the exercise, and then there was the honor of being introduced to your little sister; but perhaps you'll tell me WHAT IT WAS FOR!"

"Jack," said Gabriel, leaning forward, with a sudden return of his old trouble and perplexity, " I thought she did it! and thinkin' that—when they asked me—I took it upon myself! I didn't allow to ring you into this, Jack! I thought—I thought—thet—it 'ud all be one; thet they'd hang me up afore this, I did, Jack, honest!"

"And you didn't kill Ramirez?"

"No."

"And you reckoned your wife did?"

"Yes."

"And you took the thing on yourself?"

"I did."

"You did!"

"I did."

"You did?"

"I did!"

Mr. Hamlin rolled over on his back, and began to whistle "When the spring time comes, gentle Annie!" as the only way of expressing his inordinate contempt for the whole proceeding.

Gabriel slowly slid his hand under Mr. Hamlin's helpless back, and, under pretext of arranging his bandages, lifted him in his arms like a truculent babe:

"Jack," he said, softly, " ef thet picter of yours—thet colored woman—"

" Which!" said Jack, fiercely.

"I mean—thet purty creetur—ef she and you hed been married, and you'd found out accidental like that she'd fooled ye—more belike, Jack," he added, hastily, " o' your own foolishness, than her little game—and—"

"That woman was a lady," interrupted