I ran like one possessed1 of devils down that rough slope, hurdling2 the stones and crashing through the brush, with a sound in my ears that was not all the rush of the wind. When I reached a level I kept running; but something dragged at me. I slowed down to a walk. Never in my life had I been victim of such sensation. I must flee from something that was drawing me back. Apparently3 one side of my mind was unalterably fixed4, while the other was a hurrying conglomeration5 of flashes of thought, reception of sensations. I could not get calm.
By and by, almost involuntarily, with a fleeting6 look backward as if in expectation of pursuit, I hurried faster on. Action seemed to make my state less oppressive; it eased the weight upon me. But the farther I went on, the harder it was to continue. I was turning my back upon love, happiness, success in life, perhaps on life itself. I was doing that, but my decision had not been absolute. There seemed no use to go on farther until I was absolutely sure of myself. I received a clear warning thought that such work as seemed haunting and driving me could never be carried out in the mood under which I labored7. I hung on to that thought. Several times I slowed up, then stopped, only to tramp on again.
At length, as I mounted a low ridge8, Linrock lay bright and green before me, not faraway, and the sight was a conclusive9 check. There were mesquites on the ridge, and I sought the shade beneath them. It was the noon hour, with hot, glary sun and no wind. Here I had to have out my fight. If ever in my varied10 life of exciting adventure I strove to think, to understand myself, to see through difficulties, I assuredly strove then. I was utterly11 unlike myself; I could not bring the old self back; I was not the same man I once had been. But I could understand why. It was because of Sally Langdon, the gay and roguish girl who had bewitched me, the girl whom love had made a woman—the kind of woman meant to make life beautiful for me.
I saw her changing through all those weeks, holding many of the old traits and graces, acquiring new character of mind and body, to become what I had just fled from—a woman sweet, fair, loyal, loving, passionate12.
Temptation assailed13 me. To have her to-morrow—my wife! She had said it. Just twenty-four little hours, and she would be mine—the only woman I had ever really coveted14, the only one who had ever found the good in me. The thought was alluring15. I followed it out, a long, happy stage-ride back to Austin, and then by train to her home where, as she had said, the oranges grew and the trees waved with streamers of gray moss16 and the mocking-birds made melody. I pictured that home. I wondered that long before I had not associated wealth and luxury with her family. Always I had owned a weakness for plantations17, for the agricultural life with its open air and freedom from towns.
I saw myself riding through the cotton and rice and cane18, home to the stately old mansion19, where long-eared hounds bayed me welcome and a woman looked for me and met me with happy and beautiful smiles. There might—there would be children. And something new, strange, confounding with its emotion, came to life deep in my heart. There would be children! Sally their mother; I their father! The kind of life a lonely Ranger20 always yearned21 for and never had! I saw it all, felt it keenly, lived its sweetness in an hour of temptation that made me weak physically22 and my spirit faint and low.
For what had I turned my back on this beautiful, all-satisfying prospect23? Was it to arrest and jail a few rustlers? Was it to meet that mocking Sampson face to face and show him my shield and reach for my gun? Was it to kill that hated Wright? Was it to save the people of Linrock from further greed, raids, murder? Was it to please and aid my old captain, Neal of the Rangers26? Was it to save the Service to the State?
No—a thousand times no. It was for the sake of Steele. Because he was a wonderful man! Because I had been his undoing27! Because I had thrown Diane Sampson into his arms! That had been my great error. This Ranger had always been the wonder and despair of his fellow officers, so magnificent a machine, so sober, temperate28, chaste29, so unremittingly loyal to the Service, so strangely stern and faithful to his conception of the law, so perfect in his fidelity30 to duty. He was the model, the inspiration, the pride of all of us. To me, indeed, he represented the Ranger Service. He was the incarnation of that spirit which fighting Texas had developed to oppose wildness and disorder31 and crime. He would carry through this Linrock case; but even so, if he were not killed, his career would be ruined. He might save the Service, yet at the cost of his happiness. He was not a machine; he was a man. He might be a perfect Ranger; still he was a human being.
The loveliness, the passion, the tragedy of a woman, great as they were, had not power to shake him from his duty. Futile32, hopeless, vain her love had been to influence him. But there had flashed over me with subtle, overwhelming suggestion that not futile, not vain was my love to save him! Therefore, beyond and above all other claims, and by reason of my wrong to him, his claim came first.
It was then there was something cold and deathlike in my soul; it was then I bade farewell to Sally Langdon. For I knew, whatever happened, of one thing I was sure—I would have to kill either Sampson or Wright. Snecker could be managed; Sampson might be trapped into arrest; but Wright had no sense, no control, no fear. He would snarl33 like a panther and go for his gun, and he would have to be killed. This, of all consummations, was the one to be calculated upon. And, of course, by Sally's own words, that contingency34 would put me forever outside the pale for her.
I did not deceive myself; I did not accept the slightest intimation of hope; I gave her up. And then for a time regret, remorse35, pain, darkness worked their will with me.
I came out of it all bitter and callous36 and sore, in the most fitting of moods to undertake a difficult and deadly enterprise. Miss Sampson completely slipped my mind; Sally became a wraith37 as of some one dead; Steele began to fade. In their places came the bushy-bearded Snecker, the olive-skinned Sampson with his sharp eyes, and dark, evil faced Wright. Their possibilities began to loom38 up, and with my speculation39 returned tenfold more thrilling and sinister40 the old strange zest41 of the man-hunt.
It was about one o'clock when I strode into Linrock. The streets for the most part were deserted42. I went directly to the hall where Morton and Zimmer, with their men, had been left by Steele to guard the prisoners. I found them camping out in the place, restless, somber43, anxious. The fact that only about half the original number of prisoners were left struck me as further indication of Morton's summary dealing44. But when I questioned him as to the decrease in number, he said bluntly that they had escaped. I did not know whether or not to believe him. But that didn't matter. I tried to get in some more questions, only I found that Morton and Zimmer meant to be heard first. "Where's Steele?" they demanded.
"He's out of town, in a safe place," I replied. "Too bad hurt for action. I'm to rush through with the rest of the deal."
"That's good. We've waited long enough. This gang has been split, an' if we hurry they'll never get together again. Old man Snecker showed up to-day. He's drawin' the outfit45 in again. Reckon he's waitin' for orders. Sure he's ragin' since Bo was killed. This old fox will be dangerous if he gets goin'."
"Where is he now?" I queried46.
"Over at the Hope So. Must be a dozen of the gang there. But he's the only leader left we know of. If we get him, the rustler24 gang will be broken for good. He's sent word down here for us to let our prisoners go or there'd be a damn bloody47 fight. We haven't sent our answer yet. Was hopin' Steele would show up. An' now we're sure glad you're back."
"Morton, I'll take the answer," I replied quickly. "Now there're two things. Do you know if Sampson and Wright are at the ranch48?"
"They were an hour ago. We had word. Zimmer saw Dick."
"All right. Have you any horses handy?"
"Sure. Those hitched49 outside belong to us."
"I want you to take a man with you, in a few moments, and ride round the back roads and up to Sampson's house. Get off and wait under the trees till you hear me shoot or yell, then come fast."
Morton's breast heaved; he whistled as he breathed; his neck churned. "God Almighty50! So there the scent51 leads! We always wondered—half believed. But no one spoke—no one had any nerve." Morton moistened his lips; his face was livid; his big hands shook. "Russ, you can gamble on me."
"Good. Well, that's all. Come out and get me a horse."
When I had mounted and was half-way to the Hope So, my plan, as far as Snecker was concerned, had been formed. It was to go boldy into the saloon, ask for the rustler, first pretend I had a reply from Morton and then, when I had Snecker's ear, whisper a message supposedly from Sampson. If Snecker was too keen to be decoyed I could at least surprise him off his guard and kill him, then run for my horse. The plan seemed clever to me. I had only one thing to fear, and that was a possibility of the rustlers having seen my part in Steele's defense52 the other day. That had to be risked. There were always some kind of risks to be faced.
It was scarcely a block and a half to the Hope So. Before I arrived I knew I had been seen. When I dismounted before the door I felt cold, yet there was an exhilaration in the moment. I never stepped more naturally and carelessly into the saloon. It was full of men. There were men behind the bar helping53 themselves. Evidently Blandy's place had not been filled. Every face near the door was turned toward me; dark, intent, scowling54, malignant55 they were, and made me need my nerve.
"Say, boys, I've a word for Snecker," I called, quite loud. Nobody stirred. I swept my glance over the crowd, but did not see Snecker. "I'm in some hurry," I added.
"Bill ain't here," said a man at the table nearest me. "Air you comin' from Morton?"
"Nit. But I'm not yellin' this message."
The rustler rose, and in a few long strides confronted me.
"Word from Sampson!" I whispered, and the rustler stared. "I'm in his confidence. He's got to see Bill at once. Sampson sends word he's quit—he's done—he's through. The jig56 is up, and he means to hit the road out of Linrock."
"Bill'll kill him surer 'n hell," muttered the rustler. "But we all said it'd come to thet. An' what'd Wright say?"
"Wright! Why, he's cashed in. Didn't you-all hear? Reckon Sampson shot him."
The rustler cursed his amaze and swung his rigid57 arm with fist clenched58 tight. "When did Wright get it?"
"A little while ago. I don't know how long. Anyway, I saw him lyin' dead on the porch. An' say, pard, I've got to rustle25. Send Bill up quick as he comes. Tell him Sampson wants to turn over all his stock an' then light out."
I backed to the door, and the last I saw of the rustler he was standing59 there in a scowling amaze. I had fooled him all right. If only I had the luck to have Snecker come along soon. Mounting, I trotted60 the horse leisurely61 up the street. Business and everything else was at a standstill in Linrock these days. The doors of the stores were barricaded62. Down side streets, however, I saw a few people, a buckboard, and stray cattle.
When I reached the edge of town I turned aside a little and took a look at the ruins of Steele's adobe63 house. The walls and debris64 had all been flattened65, scattered66 about, and if anything of, value had escaped destruction it had disappeared. Steele, however, had left very little that would have been of further use to him. Turning again, I continued on my way up to the ranch. It seemed that, though I was eager rather than backward, my mind seized avidly67 upon suggestion or attraction, as if to escape the burden of grim pondering. When about half-way across the flat, and perhaps just out of gun-shot sound of Sampson's house, I heard the rapid clatter68 of hoofs69 on the hard road. I wheeled, expecting to see Morton and his man, and was ready to be chagrined70 at their coming openly instead of by the back way. But this was only one man, and it was not Morton. He seemed of big build, and he bestrode a fine bay horse. There evidently was reason for hurry, too. At about one hundred yards, when I recognized Snecker, complete astonishment71 possessed me.
Well it was I had ample time to get on my guard! In wheeling my horse I booted him so hard that he reared. As I had been warm I had my sombrero over the pommel of the saddle. And when the head of my horse blocked any possible sight of movement of my hand, I pulled my gun and held it concealed72 under my sombrero. This rustler had bothered me in my calculations. And here he came galloping73, alone. Exultation74 would have been involuntary then but for the sudden shock, and then the cold settling of temper, the breathless suspense75. Snecker pulled his huge bay and pounded to halt abreast76 of me. Luck favored me. Had I ever had anything but luck in these dangerous deals?
Snecker seemed to fume77; internally there was a volcano. His wide sombrero and bushy beard hid all of his face except his eyes, which were deepset furnaces. He, too, like his lieutenant78, had been carried completely off balance by the strange message apparently from Sampson. It was Sampson's name that had fooled and decoyed these men. "Hey! You're the feller who jest left word fer some one at the Hope So?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied, while with my left hand I patted the neck of my horse, holding him still.
"Sampson wants me bad, eh?"
"Reckon there's only one man who wants you more."
Steadily79, I met his piercing gaze. This was a rustler not to be long victim to any ruse80. I waited in cold surety.
"You thet cowboy, Russ?" he asked.
"I was—and I'm not!" I replied significantly.
The violent start of this violent outlaw81 was a rippling82 jerk of passion. "What'n hell!" he ejaculated.
"Bill, you're easy."
"Who're you?" he uttered hoarsely83.
I watched Snecker with hawk-like keenness. "United States deputy marshal. Bill, you're under arrest!"
He roared a mad curse as his hand clapped down to his gun. Then I fired through my sombrero. Snecker's big horse plunged84. The rustler fell back, and one of his legs pitched high as he slid off the lunging steed. His other foot caught in the stirrup. This fact terribly frightened the horse. He bolted, dragging the rustler for a dozen jumps. Then Snecker's foot slipped loose. He lay limp and still and shapeless in the road. I did not need to go back to look him over.
But to make assurance doubly sure, I dismounted, and went back to where he lay. My bullet had gone where it had been aimed. As I rode up into Sampson's court-yard and turned in to the porch I heard loud and angry voices. Sampson and Wright were quarrelling again. How my lucky star guided me! I had no plan of action, but my brain was equal to a hundred lightning-swift evolutions. The voices ceased. The men had heard the horse. Both of them came out on the porch. In an instant I was again the lolling impudent85 cowboy, half under the influence of liquor.
"It's only Russ and he's drunk," said George Wright contemptuously.
"I heard horses trotting86 off there," replied Sampson. "Maybe the girls are coming. I bet I teach them not to run off again—Hello, Russ."
He looked haggard and thin, but seemed amiable87 enough. He was in his shirt-sleeves and he had come out with a gun in his hand. This he laid on a table near the wall. He wore no belt. I rode right up to the porch and, greeting them laconically88, made a show of a somewhat tangle-footed cowboy dismounting. The moment I got off and straightened up, I asked no more. The game was mine. It was the great hour of my life and I met it as I had never met another. I looked and acted what I pretended to be, though a deep and intense passion, an almost ungovernable suspense, an icy sickening nausea89 abided with me. All I needed, all I wanted was to get Sampson and Wright together, or failing that, to maneuver90 into such position that I had any kind of a chance. Sampson's gun on the table made three distinct objects for me to watch and two of them could change position.
"What do you want here?" demanded Wright. He was red, bloated, thick-lipped, all fiery91 and sweaty from drink, though sober on the moment, and he had the expression of a desperate man in his last stand. It was his last stand, though he was ignorant of that.
"Me—Say, Wright, I ain't fired yet," I replied, in slow-rising resentment92.
"Well, you're fired now," he replied insolently93.
"Who fires me, I'd like to know?" I walked up on the porch and I had a cigarette in one hand, a match in the other. I struck the match.
"I do," said Wright.
I studied him with apparent amusement. It had taken only one glance around for me to divine that Sampson would enjoy any kind of a clash between Wright and me. "Huh! You fired me once before an' it didn't go, Wright. I reckon you don't stack up here as strong as you think."
He was facing the porch, moody94, preoccupied95, somber, all the time. Only a little of his mind was concerned with me. Manifestly there were strong forces at work. Both men were strained to a last degree, and Wright could be made to break at almost a word. Sampson laughed mockingly at this sally of mine, and that stung Wright. He stopped his pacing and turned his handsome, fiery eyes on me. "Sampson, I won't stand this man's impudence96."
"Aw, Wright, cut that talk. I'm not impudent. Sampson knows I'm a good fellow, on the square, and I have you sized up about O.K."
"All the same, Russ, you'd better dig out," said Sampson. "Don't kick up any fuss. We're busy with deals to-day. And I expect visitors."
"Sure. I won't stay around where I ain't wanted," I replied. Then I lit my cigarette and did not move an inch out of my tracks.
Sampson sat in a chair near the door; the table upon which lay his gun stood between him and Wright. This position did not invite me to start anything. But the tension had begun to be felt. Sampson had his sharp gaze on me. "What'd you come for, anyway?" he asked suddenly.
"Well, I had some news I was asked to fetch in."
"Get it out of you then."
"See here now, Mr. Sampson, the fact is I'm a tender-hearted fellow. I hate to hurt people's feelin's. And if I was to spring this news in Mr. Wright's hearin', why, such a sensitive, high-tempered gentleman as he would go plumb97 off his nut." Unconcealed sarcasm98 was the dominant99 note in that speech. Wright flared100 up, yet he was eagerly curious. Sampson, probably, thought I was only a little worse for drink, and but for the way I rubbed Wright he would not have tolerated me at all.
"What's this news? You needn't be afraid of my feelings," said Wright.
"Ain't so sure of that," I drawled. "It concerns the lady you're sweet on, an' the ranger you ain't sweet on."
Sampson jumped up. "Russ, had Diane gone out to meet Steele?" he asked angrily.
"Sure she had," I replied.
I thought Wright would choke. He was thick-necked anyway, and the gush101 of blood made him tear at the soft collar of his shirt. Both men were excited now, moving about, beginning to rouse. I awaited my chance, patient, cold, all my feelings shut in the vise of my will.
"How do you know she met Steele?" demanded Sampson.
"I was there. I met Sally at the same time."
"But why should my daughter meet this Ranger?"
"She's in love with him and he's in love with her."
The simple statement might have had the force of a juggernaut. I reveled in Wright's state, but I felt sorry for Sampson. He had not outlived his pride. Then I saw the leaping thought—would this daughter side against him? Would she help to betray him? He seemed to shrivel up, to grow old while I watched him.
Wright, finding his voice, cursed Diane, cursed the Ranger, then Sampson, then me.
"You damned, selfish fool!" cried Sampson, in deep, bitter scorn. "All you think of is yourself. Your loss of the girl! Think once of me—my home—my life!"
Then the connection subtly put out by Sampson apparently dawned upon the other. Somehow, through this girl, her father and cousin were to be betrayed. I got that impression, though I could not tell how true it was. Certainly, Wright's jealousy102 was his paramount103 emotion.
Sampson thrust me sidewise off the porch. "Go away," he ordered. He did not look around to see if I came back. Quickly I leaped to my former position. He confronted Wright. He was beyond the table where the gun lay. They were close together. My moment had come. The game was mine—and a ball of fire burst in my brain to race all over me.
"To hell with you!" burst out Wright incoherently. He was frenzied104. "I'll have her or nobody else will!"
"You never will," returned Sampson stridently. "So help me God, I'd rather see her Ranger Steele's wife than yours!"
While Wright absorbed that shock Sampson leaned toward him, all of hate and menace in his mien105. They had forgotten the half-drunken cowboy. "Wright, you made me what I am," continued Sampson. "I backed you, protected you, finally I went in with you. Now it's ended. I quit you. I'm done!" Their gray, passion-corded faces were still as stones.
"Gentlemen," I called in clear, high, far-reaching voice, the intonation106 of authority, "you're both done!"
They wheeled to confront me, to see my leveled gun. "Don't move! Not a muscle! Not a finger!" I warned. Sampson read what Wright had not the mind to read. His face turned paler gray, to ashen107.
"What d'ye mean?" yelled Wright fiercely, shrilly108. It was not in him to obey my command, to see impending109 death. All quivering and strung, yet with perfect control, I raised my left hand to turn back a lapel of my open vest. The silver shield flashed brightly.
"United States deputy marshal in service of Ranger Steele!"
Wright howled like a dog. With barbarous and insane fury, with sheer, impotent folly110, he swept a clawing hand for his gun. My shot broke his action as it cut short his life. Before Wright even tottered111, before he loosed the gun, Sampson leaped behind him, clasped him with his left arm, quick as lightning jerked the gun from both clutching fingers and sheath. I shot at Sampson, then again, then a third time. All my bullets sped into the upheld nodding Wright. Sampson had protected himself with the body of the dead man. I had seen red flashes, puffs112 of smoke, had heard quick reports. Something stung my left arm. Then a blow like wind, light of sound yet shocking in impact, struck me, knocked me flat. The hot rend113 of lead followed the blow. My heart seemed to explode, yet my mind kept extraordinarily114 clear and rapid.
I raised myself, felt a post at my shoulder, leaned on it. I heard Sampson work the action of Wright's gun. I heard the hammer click, fall upon empty shells. He had used up all the loads in Wright's gun. I heard him curse as a man cursed at defeat. I waited, cool and sure now, for him to show his head or other vital part from behind his bolster115. He tried to lift the dead man, to edge him closer toward the table where the gun lay. But, considering the peril116 of exposing himself, he found the task beyond him. He bent117, peering at me under Wright's arm. Sampson's eyes were the eyes of a man who meant to kill me. There was never any mistaking the strange and terrible light of eyes like those.
More than once I had a chance to aim at them, at the top of Sampson's head, at a strip of his side. But I had only two shells left. I wanted to make sure. Suddenly I remembered Morton and his man. Then I pealed118 out a cry—hoarse, strange, yet far-reaching. It was answered by a shout. Sampson heard it. It called forth119 all that was in the man. He flung Wright's body off. But even as it dropped, before Sampson could recover to leap as he surely intended for the gun, I covered him, called piercingly to him. I could kill him there or as he moved. But one chance I gave him.
"Don't jump for the gun! Don't! I'll kill you! I've got two shells left! Sure as God, I'll kill you!"
He stood perhaps ten feet from the table where his gun lay. I saw him calculating chances. He was game. He had the courage that forced me to respect him. I just saw him measure the distance to that gun. He was magnificent. He meant to do it. I would have to kill him.
"Sampson, listen!" I cried, very swiftly. "The game's up! You're done! But think of your daughter! I'll spare your life, I'll give you freedom on one condition. For her sake! I've got you nailed—all the proofs. It was I behind the wall the other night. Blome, Hilliard, Pickens, Bo Snecker, are dead. I killed Bo Snecker on the way up here. There lies Wright. You're alone. And here comes Morton and his men to my aid.
"Give up! Surrender! Consent to demands and I'll spare you. You can go free back to your old country. It's for Diane's sake! Her life, perhaps her happiness, can be saved! Hurry, man! Your answer!"
"Suppose I refuse?" he queried, with a dark and terrible earnestness.
"Then I'll kill you in your tracks! You can't move a hand! Your word or death! Hurry, Sampson! I can't last much longer. But I can kill you before I drop. Be a man! For her sake! Quick! Another second now—By God, I'll kill you!"
"All right, Russ! I give my word," he said, and deliberately120 walked to the chair and fell into it, just as Morton came running up with his man.
"Put away your gun," I ordered them. "The game's up. Snecker and Wright are dead. Sampson is my prisoner. He has my word he'll be protected. It's for you to draw up papers with him. He'll divide all his property, every last acre, every head of stock as you and Zimmer dictate121. He gives up all. Then he's free to leave the country, and he's never to return."
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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hurdling
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| n.跳栏赛跑 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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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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conglomeration
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| n.团块，聚集，混合物 | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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labored
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| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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conclusive
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| adj.最后的，结论的；确凿的，消除怀疑的 | |
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varied
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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moss
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plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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ranger
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| n.国家公园管理员，护林员；骑兵巡逻队员 | |
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yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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physically
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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rustler
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| n.[美口]偷牛贼 | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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rangers
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| 护林者( ranger的名词复数 )； 突击队员 | |
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27
undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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temperate
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| adj.温和的，温带的，自我克制的，不过分的 | |
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29
chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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30
fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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31
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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33
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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34
contingency
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| n.意外事件，可能性 | |
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35
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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36
callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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37
wraith
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| n.幽灵；骨瘦如柴的人 | |
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38
loom
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| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
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39
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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40
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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41
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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42
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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43
somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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44
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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45
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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46
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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47
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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48
ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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49
hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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50
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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51
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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52
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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53
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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54
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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55
malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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56
jig
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| n.快步舞（曲）；v.上下晃动；用夹具辅助加工；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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57
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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58
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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60
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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61
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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62
barricaded
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| 设路障于，以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 )； 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
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63
adobe
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| n.泥砖，土坯，美国Adobe公司 | |
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64
debris
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| n.瓦砾堆，废墟，碎片 | |
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65
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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66
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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67
avidly
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| adv.渴望地，热心地 | |
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68
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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69
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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70
chagrined
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| adj.懊恼的，苦恼的v.使懊恼，使懊丧，使悔恨( chagrin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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72
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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73
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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74
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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75
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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76
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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77
fume
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| n.(usu pl.)(浓烈或难闻的)烟，气，汽 | |
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78
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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79
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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80
ruse
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| n.诡计，计策；诡计 | |
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81
outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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82
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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83
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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84
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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85
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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86
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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87
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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88
laconically
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| adv.简短地，简洁地 | |
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89
nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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90
maneuver
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| n.策略[pl.]演习；v.(巧妙)控制；用策略 | |
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91
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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92
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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93
insolently
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| adv.自豪地，自傲地 | |
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94
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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95
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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96
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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97
plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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98
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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99
dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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100
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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101
gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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102
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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103
paramount
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| a.最重要的，最高权力的 | |
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104
frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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105
mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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106
intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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107
ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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108
shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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109
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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110
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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111
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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112
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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113
rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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114
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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115
bolster
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| n.枕垫；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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116
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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117
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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118
pealed
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| v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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119
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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120
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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121
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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