“I met Black on the corner west of Gordon’s office,” he explained, when he could talk. “I had not been able to sleep, and had been walking to tire my nerves into quiet. I was coming back to the hotel when I heard Black’s shot and then Mary’s. I ran forward and met Black on the corner, running. He stopped, cried out, ‘You, too, damn you,’ and that’s the last I knew until the boys picked me up.”
These were the most interested—Langford, Gordon, Williston. Had they been in the count, things might have been different. It is very probable a posse would have been formed for immediate3 pursuit. But others must do what had been better done had it not been for those shots in the dark. There was blood outside Gordon’s window; yet Black had not crawled home to die. He had not gone home at all,—at least, that is what the sheriff said. No one had seen the convicted man after his desperate and spectacular exit from the courtroom—no one at least but Louise, Mary, and her father. Mary’s shot had not killed him, but it had saved Richard Gordon’s life, which was a far better thing. It was impossible to track him out of town, for the cattle had trampled4 the snow in every direction.
The authorities could gather no outside information. The outlying claims and ranches6 refuted indignantly any hint of their having given aid or shelter to the fugitive7, or of having any cognizance whatsoever8 regarding his possible whereabouts. So the pursuit, at first hot and excited, gradually wearied of following false leads,—contented itself with desultory9 journeys when prodded10 thereto by the compelling power of public opinion,—finally ceased altogether even as a pretence11.
One of the first things done following the dramatic day in court had been to send the officers out to the little shanty12 in the valley where the half-breed lay dead across the threshold. A watch was also set upon this place; but no one ever came there.
August had come again, and Judge Dale was in Kemah to hear a court case.
Langford had ridden in from the ranch5 on purpose to see Judge Dale. His clothes were spattered with mud. There had been a succession of storms, lasting13 for several days; last night a cloud had burst out west somewhere. All the creeks14 were swollen15.
“Judge, I believe Jesse Black has been on that island of his all the time.”
“What makes you think so, Langford?”
“Because our sheriff is four-flushing—he always was in sympathy with the gang, you know. Besides, where else can Black be?”
“What have you heard?” he asked.
“Rumors are getting pretty thick that he has been seen in that neighborhood on several occasions. It is my honest belief he has never left it.”
“What did you think of doing about it, Langford?”
“I want you to give me a bench warrant, Judge. I am confident that I can get him. It is the shame of the county that he is still at large.”
“You have to deal with one of the worst and most desperate outlaws18 in the United States. You must know it will be a very hazardous20 undertaking21, granting your surmises22 to be correct, and fraught23 with grave peril24 for some one.”
“This duty is another’s, not yours.”
“But that other is incompetent25.”
“My dear fellow,” said the Judge, rising and laying his hand on Langford’s big shoulder, “do you really want to undertake this?”
“I certainly do.”
“Then I will give you the warrant, gladly. You are the one man in the State to do it—unless I except the gallant26 little deputy marshal. You know the danger. I admire your grit27, my boy. Get him if you can; but take care of yourself. Your life is worth so much more than his. Who will you take with you?”
“Munson, of course. He will go in spite of the devil, and he’s the best man I know for anything like this. Then I thought of taking the deputy sheriff. He’s been true blue all along, and has done the very best possible under the conditions.”
“Very good. Take Johnson, too. He’ll be glad to go. He’s the pluckiest little fighter in the world,—not a cowardly hair in his head.”
So it was agreed, and the next morning, bright and early, the little posse, reinforced by others who had earnestly solicited28 the privilege of going along, started out on its journey. The rains were over, but the roads were heavy. In many places, they were forced to walk their mounts. No one but the initiated29 know what gumbo mud means. Until they took to the hills, the horses could scarcely lift their feet, so great would be the weight of the sticky black earth which clung in immense chunks30 to their hoofs31. When they struck the hills, it was better and they pressed forward rapidly. Once only the sheriff had asserted that he had run across the famous outlaw19. Black had resisted savagely32 and had escaped, sending back the bold taunt33 that he would never be taken alive. Such a message might mean death to some of the plucky34 posse now making for the old-time haunts of the desperado.
The sun struggled from behind rain-exhausted clouds, and a rollicking wind blew up. The clouds skurried away toward the horizon.
At White River ford2, the men looked at each other in mute inquiry35. The stream was a raging torrent36. It was swollen until it was half again its ordinary width. The usually placid37 waters were rushing and twisting into whirlpool-like rapids.
“I’m thinkin’ this here little pleasure party’ll have to be postponed,” vouchsafed39 one of the volunteers, nodding his head wisely.
“We’ll sure have to wait for the cloud-bust to run out,” agreed another.
“Why, we can swim that all right,” put in Langford, rallying from his momentary40 set-back and riding his mount to the very edge of the swirling41 water.
“Hold on a minute there, Boss,” cried Jim. “Don’t be rash now. What’s the census42 of ’pinion o’ this here company? Shall we resk the ford or shall we not?”
“Why, Jim,” said Paul, a laugh in his blue eyes, “are you afraid? What’s come over you?”
“Nothin’. I ain’t no coward neither, and ef you wasn’t the Boss I’d show you. I was just a thinkin’ o’—somebody who’d care—that’s all.”
Just for a moment a far away look came into the young ranchman’s eyes. Then he straightened himself in his saddle.
“I never for one minute calculated on doing a thing else,” replied the deputy marshal, who had been standing44 somewhat apart awaiting the end of the controversy45, with a good humored smile in his twinkling blue eyes.
“Good for you! Then come on!”
Paul urged Sade into the water. He was followed unhesitatingly by Munson, Johnson, and Baker. The others held back, and finally, after a short consultation46, wheeled and retraced47 their steps.
“I ain’t no coward, neither,” muttered one, as he rode away, “but I plumb48 don’t see no sense in bein’ drownded. I’d ruther be killed a roundin’ up Jesse.”
The horses which had made the initial plunge49 were already in water up to their breasts. The current had an ominous50 rush to it.
“I don’t care. I didn’t mean to hold over and let our quarry51 get wind of this affair,” cried Langford, over his shoulder. “Keep your rifles dry, boys!”
Suddenly, without warning, Sade stepped into a hole and lost her balance for a moment. She struggled gallantly52 and recovered herself, yet it weakened her. It was not long before all the horses were compelled to swim, and the force of the current immediately began driving them down stream. Sade fought bravely against the pressure. She was a plucky little cow pony53 and loved her master, but it was about all she could do to keep from going under, let alone making much headway against the tremendous pressure of the current. Langford’s danger was grave.
“Steady, my girl!” he encouraged. He flung his feet free of the stirrups so that, if she went under, he would be ready to try it alone. Poor Sade! He should hate to lose her. If he released her now and struck off by himself, she might make it. He had never known White River to run so sullenly54 and strongly; it would be almost impossible for a man to breast it. And there was Mary—he could never go back to her and claim her for his own until he could bring Black back, too, to suffer for her father’s wrongs.
At that moment, Sade gave a little convulsive shudder55, and the water rolled over her head. Langford slipped from the saddle, but in the instant of contact with the pushing current, his rifle was jerked violently from his hand and sank out of sight. With no time for vain regrets, he struck out for the shore. The struggle was tremendous. He was buffeted56 and beaten, and borne farther and farther down the stream. More than once in the endeavor to strike too squarely across, his head went under; but he was a strong swimmer, and soon scrambling57 up the bank some distance below the ford, he turned and sent a resonant58 hail to his comrades. They responded lustily. He had been the only one unhorsed. He threw himself face downward to cough up some of the water he had been compelled to swallow, and Munson, running up, began slapping him vigorously upon the back. He desisted only to run swiftly along the bank.
“Good for you,” Jim cried, approvingly, assisting Langford’s spent horse up the bank. Coming up to the party where Langford still lay stretched out full length, Sade rubbed her nose inquiringly over the big shoulders lying so low, and whinnied softly.
“Hello there!” cried Paul, springing excitedly to his feet. “Where’d you come from? Thought you had crossed the bar. Now I’ll just borrow a gun from one of you fellows and we’ll be getting along. Better my rifle than my horse at this stage of the game, anyway.”
The little party pushed on. The longer half of their journey was still before them. On the whole, perhaps, it was better the crowd had split. There was more unity59 of purpose among those who were left. The sun was getting hot, and Langford’s clothes dried rapidly.
Arrived at the entrance of the cross ravine which Williston had once sought out, the four men rode their horses safely through its length. The waters of the June rise had receded60, and the outlaw’s presumably deserted holding was once more a peninsula. The wooded section in the near distance lay green, cool, and innocent looking in the late summer sun. The sands between stretched out hot in the white glare. From the gulch61 covert62, the wiry marshal rode first. His face bore its wonted expression of good-humored alertness, but there was an inscrutable glint in his eyes that might have found place there because of a sure realization63 of the hazard of the situation and of his accepting it. Langford followed him quickly, and Munson and Baker were not far behind. They trotted64 breezily across the open in a bunch, without words. Where the indistinct trail to the house slipped into the wooded enclosure, they paused. Was the desperado at last really rounded up so that he must either submit quietly or turn at bay? It was so still. Spots of sunlight had filtered through the foliage65 and flecked the pathway. Insects flitted about. Bumble bees droned. Butterflies hovered66 over the snow-on-the-mountain. A turtle dove mourned. A snake glided67 sinuously68 through the grass. Peering down the warm, shaded interior, one might almost imagine one was in the heart of an ancient wood. The drowsy69 suggestions of solitude70 crept in upon the sensibilities of all the men and filled them with vague doubts. If this was the haunt of a man, a careless, sordid71 man, would this place which knew him breathe forth72 so sweet, still, and undisturbed a peace?
Langford first shook himself free of the haunting fear of a deserted hearthstone.
“I’d stake my all on my belief that he’s there,” he said, in a low voice. “Now listen, boys. Johnson and I will ride to the house and make the arrest, providing he doesn’t give us the slip. Baker, you and Jim will remain here in ambush73 in case he does. He’s bound to come this way to reach the mainland. Ready, Johnson?”
Jim interposed. His face was flinty with purpose.
“Not ef the court knows herself, and I think she do. Me and Johnson will do that there little arrestin’ job and the Boss he’ll stay here in the ambush. Ef anybody’s a countin’ on my totin’ the Boss’s openwork body back to Mary Williston, it’s high time he was a losin’ the count, for I ain’t goin’ to do it.”
He guided his horse straight into the path.
“But, Jim,” expostulated Langford, laying a detaining hand on the cowboy’s shoulder, “as for danger, there’s every bit as much—and more—here. Do you think Jesse Black will tamely sit down and wait for us to come up and nab him? I think he’ll run.”
“Then why are you a shirkin’, ef this is the worst spot o’ all? You ain’t no coward, Boss, leastways you never was. Why don’t you stay by it? That’s what I’d like to know.”
Johnson grinned appreciatively.
“Well, there’s always the supposition that he may not see us until we ride into his clearing,” admitted Langford. “Of course, then—it’s too late.”
Jim blocked the way.
“I’m an ornery, no-’count cowboy with no one in this hull74 world to know or care what becomes o’ me. There ain’t no one to care but me, and I can’t say I’m a hurtin’ myself any a carin’! You just wait till I screech75, will you?”
“Jim,” said Langford, huskily, “you go back and behave yourself. I’m the Boss not you. You’ve got to obey orders. You’ve sassed me long enough. You get back, now!”
“Tell Mary, ef I come back a deader,” said Jim, “that women are s’perfluous critters, but I forgive her. She can’t help bein’ a woman.”
He gave his horse a dig with his knee and the animal bounded briskly forward.
Johnson shrugged77 his shoulders, and wheeled his horse into clever concealment78 on one side of the path.
“Let the fool kids go,” he advised, dryly. “I’m a lookin’ for Jess to run, anyway.”
The two men rode boldly up toward the house. It seemed deserted. Weeds were growing around the door stoop, and crowding thickly up to the front windows. A spider’s silver web gleamed from casing to panel of the warped79 and weather stained door. The windows were blurred80 with the tricklings of rain through seasons of dust. Everything appeared unkempt, forlorn, desolate81.
There was a sound from the rear. It carried a stealthy significance. A man leaped from the protection of the cabin and was seen running toward the barn. He was heavily armed.
“Stop that, Black!” yelled Langford, authoritatively82. “We are going to take you, dead or alive—you’d better give yourself up! It will be better for you!”
The man answered nothing.
“Wing him with your rifle, Jim, before he gets to the barn,” said Paul, quickly.
The shot went wild. Black wrenched83 the door open, sprang upon the already bridled84 horse, and made a bold dash for the farther woods—and not in the direction where determined85 men waited in ambush. What did it mean? As his horse cleared the stable, he turned and shot a vindictive86 challenge to meet his pursuers.
“You won’t take me alive—and dead, I won’t go alone!”
He plunged87 forward in a northerly direction. Dimly he could be seen through the underbrush; but plainly could be heard the crackling of branches and the snapping of twigs88 as his horse whipped through the low lying foliage. Was there, then, another way to the mainland—other than the one over which Johnson and Baker kept guard? How could it be? How Langford longed for his good rifle and its carrying power. But he knew how to use a pistol, too. Both men sent menacing shots after the fugitive. Langford could not account for the strange direction. The only solution was that Black was leading his pursuers a chase through the woods, hoping to decoy them so deeply into the interior that he might, turning suddenly and straightly, gain time for his desperate sprint89 across the exposed stretch of sand. If this were true, Baker and Johnson would take care of him there.
Black returned the fire vengefully. A bullet scraped his horse’s flank. His hat was shot from his head. He turned savagely in his saddle with a yell of defiance90.
“You’ll never take me alive!”
The fusillade was furious, but the trees and branches proved Black’s friends. It was impossible to judge one’s aim aright. His horse staggered. Another bullet sang and purred through the foliage, and the horse fell.
“My God, Jim!” cried Langford. “My cartridges91 are out! Give me your gun!”
For answer, Jim sent another bullet whistling forward. Black, rising from his fallen horse, fell back.
“I got him!” yelled Jim, exultantly92. He spurred forward.
“Careful, Jim!” warned Langford. “He may be ‘playing possum,’ you know.”
“You stay where you are,” cried Jim. “You ain’t got no gun. Stay back, you fool Boss!”
Langford laughed a little.
“You’re the fool boy, Jim,” he said. “I’ll go without a gun if you won’t give me yours.”
They rode cautiously up to the prostrate93 figure. It was lying face downward, one arm outstretched on the body of the dead horse, the other crumpled94 under the man’s breast. Blood oozed95 from under his shoulder.
“He’s done for,” said Jim, in a low voice. In the presence of death, all hatred96 had gone from him. The man apparently97 had paid all he could of his debts on earth. The body lying there so low was the body of a real man. Whatever his crimes, he had been a fine type of physical manhood. He had never cringed. He had died like a man, fighting to the last.
Jim slowly and thoughtfully slipped his revolver into its holster and dismounted. Langford, too, sprang lightly from his saddle.
Black had been waiting for this. His trained ear had no sooner caught the soft rubbing sound of the pistol slipping into its leathern case than he leaped to his feet and stretched out the crumpled arm with its deadly weapon pointing straight at the heart of Langford of the Three Bars.
There was not time for Jim to draw, but, agile99 as a cat, he threw himself against Black’s arm and the bullet went wild. For a moment the advantage was his, and he wrested100 the weapon from Black’s hand. It fell to the ground. The two men grappled. The struggle was short and fierce. Each strove with all the strength of his concentrated hate to keep the other’s hand from his belt.
When the feet of the wrestlers left the fallen weapon free, Langford, who had been waiting for this opportunity, sprang forward and seized it with a thrill of satisfaction. Command of the situation was once more his. But the revolver was empty, and he turned to throw himself into the struggle empty-handed. Jim would thus be given a chance to draw.
At that moment, Black twisted his arm free and his hand dropped like a flash to his belt, where there was a revolver that was loaded. Jim hugged him closely, but it was of no use now. The bullet tore its cruel way through his side. His arms relaxed their hold—he slipped—slowly—down—down. Black shook himself free of him impatiently and wheeled to meet his great enemy.
“Quits at last!” he said, with an ugly smile.
Quits indeed! For Jim, raising himself slightly, was able to draw at last; and even as he spoke101, the outlaw fell.
“Jim, my boy,” said Langford, huskily. He was kneeling, Jim’s head in his arms.
“Well, Boss,” said Jim, trying to smile. His eyes were clear.
“It was my affair, Jim, you ought not to have done it,” said Langford, brokenly.
“It’s all right—Boss—don’t you worry—I saw you—in the hall that night. You are—the Boss. Tell Mary so. Tell her I was—glad—to go—so you could go to her—and it would be—all right. She—loves you—Boss—you needn’t be afraid.”
“Jim, I cannot bear it; I must go in your stead.”
“To Mary—yes.” His voice sank lower and lower. An added paleness stole over his face, but his eyes looked into Langford’s serenely102, almost happily.
“Go—to Mary in my stead—Boss,” he whispered. “Tell her Jim gave his Boss—to her—when he had to go—tell her he was glad to go—I used to think it was ‘Mouse-hair’—I am glad it is—Mary—tell her good-bye—tell her the Three Bars wouldn’t be the same to Jim with a woman in it anyway—tell her—”
And with a sigh Jim died.
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1
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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3
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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4
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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5
ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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ranches
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| 大农场， （兼种果树，养鸡等的）大牧场( ranch的名词复数 ) | |
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7
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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8
whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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9
desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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10
prodded
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| v.刺，戳( prod的过去式和过去分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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creeks
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| n.小湾( creek的名词复数 )；小港；小河；小溪 | |
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15
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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puckered
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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outlaws
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| 歹徒，亡命之徒( outlaw的名词复数 )； 逃犯 | |
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outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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hazardous
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| adj.(有)危险的，冒险的；碰运气的 | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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surmises
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的第三人称单数 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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fraught
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| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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incompetent
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| adj.无能力的，不能胜任的 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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28
solicited
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| v.恳求( solicit的过去式和过去分词 )；（指娼妇）拉客；索求；征求 | |
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initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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30
chunks
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| 厚厚的一块( chunk的名词复数 )； （某物）相当大的数量或部分 | |
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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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32
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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taunt
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| n.辱骂，嘲弄；v.嘲弄 | |
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plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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38
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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39
vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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40
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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41
swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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42
census
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| n.(官方的)人口调查，人口普查 | |
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43
tersely
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| adv. 简捷地, 简要地 | |
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44
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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45
controversy
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| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
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46
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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47
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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48
plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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49
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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50
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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51
quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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53
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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54
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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55
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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56
buffeted
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| 反复敲打( buffet的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续猛击； 打来打去； 推来搡去 | |
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57
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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58
resonant
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| adj.(声音)洪亮的，共鸣的 | |
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59
unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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60
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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61
gulch
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| n.深谷，峡谷 | |
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62
covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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63
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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64
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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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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66
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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67
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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68
sinuously
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| 弯曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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69
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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75
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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76
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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77
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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82
authoritatively
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| 命令式地，有权威地，可信地 | |
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83
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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84
bridled
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| 给…套龙头( bridle的过去式和过去分词 )； 控制； 昂首表示轻蔑（或怨忿等）； 动怒，生气 | |
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85
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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86
vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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87
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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88
twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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89
sprint
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| n.短距离赛跑；vi. 奋力而跑，冲刺；vt.全速跑过 | |
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90
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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91
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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92
exultantly
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| adv.狂欢地，欢欣鼓舞地 | |
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93
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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94
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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95
oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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96
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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97
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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98
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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99
agile
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| adj.敏捷的，灵活的 | |
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100
wrested
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| （用力）拧( wrest的过去式和过去分词 )； 费力取得； （从…）攫取； （ 从… ） 强行取去… | |
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101
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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102
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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