A horse and cutter had come to a halt on the road, a few rods short of the house. The animal had been frightened by the firing, and was still showing signs of excitement, with lifted ears and stiffened4 forelegs.
The man, whom Job understood to be Moak, stood at the horse's head, holding the bridle5 tightly, but looking intently the other way across the fields in the direction of his companion, the redoubtable6 deputy marshal, who was not in sight.
The boy stole to the other end of the room, and cautiously opened the shed door by as much as the width of his face. Here he could cover at a glance the flat, gently sloping waste of snow which stretched unbroken backward from the house to the gray fringe of woods that marked the edge of the ravine. Beyond that belt of timbered horizon, with its shadows silvery soft in the brilliant morning sunlight, lay sunken in its hollow the ice-bound brook7.
If Mose passed this stream there was before him the real forest—and safety.
The black figures of two running men moved upon this broad and dazzlingly white landscape. The farther of the two was now so far away that he seemed a mere8 dark speck9, like the object seen from the gun-line of a turkey shoot. Perhaps this simile10 was suggested to Job by the fact that the other, pausing now for a moment in his race, straightened an arm and sent five more shots flashing after the fugitive11.
Tenfold that number of echoes came rolling in upon one another's heels through the nipping air as the second man started again to run. He seemed not to be catching12 up with his prey—yes! now Mose was lost to sight in the woods, and his pursuer was not half-way there. Yes! and now the marshal had stopped, hesitated, and turned about.
The deputy marshal retraced13 his steps over the broken crust slowly, and with an air of dejection. He hung his head as he walked, and it took him a long time to reach the house. When he came into the yard he seemed not to look toward the house at all, but made his way straight past as if bound for the road, with his attention still steadfastly14 fixed15 on the snow in front of him.
But just as Job had jumped to the conclusion that he had not been observed, the deputy marshal called in a loud, peremptory16 aside over his shoulder:—
"Come along out here, boy!"
The lad had no course but to obey. He stole a quick, backward glance to where old Asa still sat motionless with bowed head near the stove. Then noiselessly shutting the shed door behind him, he followed out into the road.
"It'll be all right," the deputy marshal was saying to his companion as Job came up. "He can't take a step on this crust without leavin' a mark, 'specially17 now that it's goin' to melt a little. I'll land him in the stone jug18 before night, or you can call me a Dutchman!"
Norman Hazzard, the deputy marshal, was a thin, lithe19, active man, somewhere in the thirties, with a long, sun-browned face and a square jaw20. Although his keen eyes were of a light, bluish gray, one thought of him as a dark-complexioned person.
Ever since Job could remember, this man had been arresting people, first as a sheriff's officer, then as an army detective. Looking furtively21 at him now as he stood at the horse's head, with his sharp glance roving the distant landscape and his under lip nursing the ends of his sparse22 moustache in meditation23, the boy felt that that was what nature intended that Norm Hazzard should be.
The whole country knew him by sight, and talked about the risky24 things he had done in the line of his duty, and the stern, cold-blooded pluck with which he had done them.
As the deputy marshal stood thus pondering the situation, he rattled25 together with his hand some heavy metallic27 objects in one of his overcoat pockets. The clanking sound they gave forth28 fascinated the boy.
"I s'pose them's handcuffs you've got there in your pocket?" he found himself suddenly impelled29 to remark. It was only after the words were out that he realized the boldness of speaking in this fierce presence without having been spoken to.
Hazzard turned his head obliquely31 downward, and regarded Job with a sort of ironical32 scowl33.
"They ain't for you, anyway," he remarked. "I guess the horsewhip'll about suit your complaint."
"No, you don't!" replied Job. "You dassent lay a finger on me unless I've done something—I know that much."
The deputy marshal emitted a chuckle34 of amused contempt.
"Why, you blamed little runt, you!" he said. "You've done mischief36 enough this mornin' to git thrashed for it within an inch o' your life, and go to state's prison into the bargain. You mind your p's and q's now mighty37 sharp, or it'll be the end o' you!"
"I don't see, myself," put in Moak, a bearded, thickset, middle-aged38 man, who drawled his words lazily, but looked as if he might be a tough customer in a fight, "I don't jest make out how you're goin' to catch up with him, even if he does leave tracks. He's got a big start, and has pretty good reasons for humpin' himself, and if he can keep ahead till dark, he knows the woods in the night-time a plaguy sight better'n any of us do."
Hazzard curled his lips in a faint, momentary39 grin of superiority.
"Can't we get snow-shoes?" he asked.
The word had an evil sound to Job's ears. They would run Mose down, sure enough, with those terrible aids to the pursuit.
"The only question is," the deputy marshal ruminated40 aloud, "where'll be the nearest place to git the shoes. We'll hitch41 the horse here to the fence, and take a look at the house. Did you ever see such a tumble-down place in all your life? Here, you boy, mog along there in front o' me, and watch what you do! Or no, wait a minute!"
The deputy marshal had led the horse off the roadway toward the sprawling42 remains43 of a rail fence at the side. He paused now, communed with himself for an instant, then brought the horse and cutter back again, and tossed the blanket he had taken out upon the seat once more.
"No," he said briefly44 to Moak, "you jump in and drive to Juno Mills as fast as you can, and git two pairs of snow-shoes somewhere,—you're bound to find plenty of 'em; the hotel-keeper'll know who's got 'em,—and race back here again. Don't whisper a word to anybody—and we'll have him out in no time."
So it happened that as the cutter with its jingling45 bells receded46 from vision and hearing down the road, Job Parshall found himself marching back in embarrassed state toward the front door of the Whipple house, with the firm tread of the deputy marshal crunching47 on the snow close at his heels.
He could catch the sinister48 rattle26 of those handcuffs in Hazzard's pocket at every stride the man took. He tried not to dwell upon it in his mind, but it was a fact that Norm Hazzard had killed two men, one of them a member of a famous local gang of horse-thieves, whom he had shot where he was ambushed49 behind the grain bags in his barn, the other a wife-murderer, who had escaped from jail to the woods.
How was it, Job wondered, that he had missed all ten of his shots at Mose? Perhaps they were not all misses. Men did run sometimes, it was said, after they had been struck by a bullet. What if Mose, after all, was lying there, somewhere in the woods, wounded and helpless in the bitter cold!
The manacles behind him ground together with a cruel, rasping noise as this picture rose in his brain.
He pushed the door wide open and went in, closely followed by the other.
Old Asa sat where he had left him, his tall frame settled down supinely in the armchair, his head bent50 on his breast, motionless and apparently51 asleep.
"Here's somebody to see you, Asa," Job said, as he heard the door close behind him; but the old man did not stir.
The deputy marshal walked forward, brusquely pushing the lad aside, and laid a heavy hand on Asa Whipple's shoulder. He paused then, as if puzzled by what his grasp felt. Then he put his other hand, not so ungently, into the old man's beard and lifted his head up.
"Say! I wasn't figurin' on this!" was his bewildered exclamation52. "Here, quick, you! run and bring some water. Maybe it's only a faint."
This indeed it turned out to be—a deep swoon, the result of long privation and weakness, accented by the sudden relief and the subsequent strain of excitement.
Hazzard could not rouse the old man from his comatose53 lethargy, with all his rubbing and slapping of hands, and liberal use of snow upon the temple and lips. But he did satisfy himself that there was no imminent54 danger, and he went to work to spread out the bed again behind the stove, loosen old Asa's clothes, and stretch him out to sleep at his ease, comfortably tucked in with Hazzard's own overcoat, which the marshal had stripped off for the purpose, quite as if his mission in life had been to nurse rather than arrest people.
He had taken out of the overcoat pocket, before spreading it across the bed, a big navy revolver, a parcel or two, presumably of ammunition55, and a couple of curious steel wristlets, linked together with a chain; Job looked at these latter, as they lay on the table, with profound interest.
Job had never seen handcuffs so near, and he longed to ask the great man to show him how they worked. Finally, after he had obeyed his curt56 instruction to put more wood on the fire, and the deputy marshal had seated himself by the stove with his feet balanced on a stick just inside the oven door, and a pipe in his mouth, Job ventured to lift the manacles from the table and inspect them.
As this passed without protest he went to the length of opening one of the bands on its hinge, and then shutting it about his wrist. The two parts went together with a clicking snap, and the boy, after a few fruitless efforts to open them or to slip his hand through, began to guess that he would have to ask the help of the deputy marshal to release him.
He would not humble57 himself thus, however, before it was a matter of sheer necessity; and he tugged58 away at the lock in dogged silence, until his wrist was red and sore. The consciousness that the official was grinning at him only made the thing worse.
"If I'd had the sense to do that myself," remarked Hazzard after a time, "when I first laid eyes on you this morning, and then nailed the chain up to the barn door-post, I'd have saved myself a heap of trouble. Leave it alone, or you'll swell59 your wrist out o' shape. I'll unlock it bimeby—maybe."
He smoked silently for a minute, dividing his ruminative60 gaze between the steaming leather in the oven, and the rueful countenance61 of the boy in the handcuffs.
"You're Hank Parshall's boy, ain't you?" he asked at last.
Job nodded and held his imprisoned62 hand forth to hint, without saying, that he had had enough of the handcuff.
The other paid no heed63 to the gesture. "What's the matter with the old man, here?" he inquired with a downward nod.
"He ain't had enough to eat," said Job, bluntly. "That's what's the matter with him. He told me himself he laid down there last night to starve to death."
Mr. Hazzard pointed64 a thumb to the greasy65 frying-pan, and the remains of the chicken on the table beside Job.
"People don't go to work that way to starve," he commented dryly.
"Mose brought him that—I guess I know pretty well where he got it, too. The old man allowed that that was what saved his life. They hadn't been a soul near him before since the snowfall—and he laid up. Oh, that reminds me!" Job finished by taking the two slices of bread from his pocket, and putting them on the table.
"Bring that for the old man?" queried66 the deputy marshal.
Job shook his head.
"No, it's my own breakfast. I was goin' to give it to Mose," he replied stoutly67. "Say, take this thing off, won't you?"
Norm Hazzard laughed outright68. "No!" he said. "Guess after that I'll have to put the other one onto you, too." His tone lapsed69 to seriousness as he went on: "Maybe you know somethin' about it—didn't I hear that this Mose Whipple went to the war as substitute for your man—Teachout?"
"Yes, sir, he did—and Teachout didn't give him not a dollar, but jest let it go on to the mortgage, and he promised to look out for old Asa here, and he didn't—and he'd begrudge70 him this bread here, if he knew it."
The deputy marshal nodded comprehendingly, and blew the smoke through his pipe.
"Charged me and Moak thirty-five cents apiece for our breakfasts this mornin', and twenty cents for the horse," he said, in a musing71 tone. "Reckon he's about the tightest old skinflint on the whole turnpike—and that's sayin' a good deal. So he got drafted, did he? Should 'a' thought he was too old."
"He ain't as old as he looks," explained Job. "He's a good deal meaner, though. I'm glad o' one thing, anyway. I ain't goin' back there any more, except to git my clothes and my money. I'm goin' to live in here with the old man, and kind o' look after him. I promised——"
"Promised Mose, eh?" broke in the deputy marshal.
"Yes—if you want to know—I did promise Mose! You can't touch me for that!"
"Why, that's skinnin' alive, that is—jest for that alone," said Hazzard, with portentous72 gravity, "to say nothin' of scootin' over here to give warnin', and bringin' that bread there in your pocket, and so on. Why, it'll puzzle a Philadelphy lawyer to find punishments bad enough for you."
Job looked him searchingly in the eye for a full minute, then held up the fettered73 hand again.
"Say, unlock this, will you?" he said, unabashed. "I knew you was foolin' all the time," he added, as the other produced the key from his pocket and turned the lock. "I could tell it right from the start."
"Me? me foolin'?" asked Hazzard, with simulated surprise. "Why, you're crazy, boy!"
"No, I spotted74 it right off," Job replied, eager to put into words the idea that had suddenly come to him. "Why, anybody could tell that. A sure-enough dead shot like you wouldn't fire ten shots at a man and not hit him once, if he wasn't foolin'. It was as plain as the nose on your face—you didn't really want to catch poor Mose. That's what made me take a shine to you, right off."
Norman Hazzard blew more smoke through his pipe, and grinned to himself, and even gave an abrupt75 little laugh aloud, shifting on the instant to an air of grave imperturbability76.
"You mustn't talk like that—that is, outside," he said. "It might give folks wrong notions. Besides, I tell you you're mistaken. I never fired more to kill in all my life. But of course—the old man here—p'r'aps that does make it a little different."
He looked down as he spoke30 to where old Asa lay, under the overcoat, and Job felt sure that there was a change on his face—a change toward kindliness77.
"Well, anyway," the boy persisted, "you wouldn't fire to kill now, if you was to catch up to Mose, and what's more, I don't believe you're goin' to try to catch up to him, neither."
"I ain't, eh?" broke in the deputy marshal. "You wait till Moak gets back with the snow-shoes. We'll run him down in no time. He ain't got no more chance than a lame35 mud-turtle."
The words sounded savage78 enough, and Job, scanning the lean, tanned face of the speaker, found his mind conjuring79 up again visions of those two other wrong-doers whom this hunter of men had shot down.
And yet, somehow, there seemed to be a sort of relenting twinkle in those sharp, cold, gray eyes of his.
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收听单词发音
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1
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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redoubtable
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| adj.可敬的；可怕的 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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obliquely
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| adv.斜； 倾斜； 间接； 不光明正大 | |
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ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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ruminated
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| v.沉思( ruminate的过去式和过去分词 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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jingling
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| 叮当声 | |
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receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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47
crunching
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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ambushed
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| v.埋伏( ambush的过去式和过去分词 )；埋伏着 | |
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50
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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51
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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52
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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53
comatose
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| adj.昏睡的，昏迷不醒的 | |
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imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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56
curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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ruminative
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| adj.沉思的，默想的，爱反复思考的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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67
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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68
outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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69
lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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70
begrudge
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| vt.吝啬，羡慕 | |
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71
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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72
portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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73
fettered
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| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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74
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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75
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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76
imperturbability
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| n.冷静；沉着 | |
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77
kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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78
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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79
conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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