GLENISTER had said that the Judge would not dare to disobey the mandates2 of the Circuit Court of Appeals, but he was wrong. Application was made for orders directing the enforcement of the writs—steps which would have restored possession of the Midas to its owners, as well as possession of the treasure in bank—but Stillman refused to grant them.
Wheaton called a meeting of the Swedes and their attorneys, advising a junction3 of forces. Dextry, who had returned from the mountains, was present. When they had finished their discussion, he said:
“It seems like I can always fight better when I know what the other feller’s game is. I’m going to spy on that outfit4.”
“We’ve had detectives at work for weeks,” said the lawyer for the Scandinavians; “but they can’t find out anything we don’t know already.”
Dextry said no more, but that night found him busied in the building adjoining the one wherein McNamara had his office. He had rented a back room on the top floor, and with the help of his partner sawed through the ceiling into the loft5 and found his way thence to the roof through a hatchway. Fortunately, there was but little space between the two buildings, and, furthermore, each boasted the square fronts common in mining-camps, which projected high enough to prevent observation from across the way. Thus he was enabled, without discovery, to gain the roof adjoining and to cut through into the loft. He crept cautiously in through the opening, and out upon a floor of joists sealed on the lower side, then lit a candle, and, locating McNamara’s office, cut a peep-hole so that by lying flat on the timbers he could command a considerable portion of the room beneath. Here, early the following morning, he camped with the patience of an Indian, emerging in the still of that night stiff, hungry, and atrociously cross. Meanwhile, there had been another meeting of the mine-owners, and it had been decided6 to send Wheaton, properly armed with affidavits7 and transcripts8 of certain court records, back to San Francisco on the return trip of the Santa Maria, which had arrived in port. He was to institute proceedings9 for contempt of court, and it was hoped that by extraordinary effort he could gain quick action.
At daybreak Dextry returned to his post, and it was midnight before he crawled from his hiding-place to see the lawyer and Glenister.
“They have had a spy on you all day, Wheaton,” he began, “and they know you’re going out to the States. You’ll be arrested to-morrow morning before breakfast.”
“Arrested! What for?”
“I don’t just remember what the crime is—bigamy, or mayhem, or attainder of treason, or something—anyway, they’ll get you in jail and that’s all they want. They think you’re the only lawyer that’s wise enough to cause trouble and the only one they can’t bribe10.”
“Lord! What’ll I do? They’ll watch every lighter11 that leaves the beach, and if they don’t catch me that way, they’ll search the ship.”
“Yes—but how?”
“Leave it to me. Get your things together and be ready to duck in two hours.”
“I tell you they’ll search the Santa Maria from stem to stern,” protested the lawyer, but Dextry had gone.
“Better do as he says. His schemes are good ones,” recommended Glenister, and accordingly the lawyer made preparation.
In the mean time the old prospector14 had begun at the end of Front Street to make a systematic15 search of the gambling-houses. Although it was very late they were running noisily, and at last he found the man he wanted playing “Black Jack,” the smell of tar16 in his clothes, the lilt of the sea in his boisterous17 laughter. Dextry drew him aside.
“Mac, there’s only two things about you that’s any good—your silence and your seamanship. Otherwise, you’re a disreppitable, drunken insect.”
The sailor grinned.
“What is it you want now? If it’s concerning money, or business, or the growed-up side of life, run along and don’t disturb the carousals of a sailorman. If it’s a fight, lemme get my hat.”
“I want you to wake up your fireman and have steam on the tug18 in an hour, then wait for me below the bridge. You’re chartered for twenty-four hours, and—remember, not a word.”
“I’m on! Compared to me the Spinks of Egyp’ is as talkative as a phonograph.”
The old man next turned his steps to the Northern Theatre. The performance was still in progress, and he located the man he was hunting without difficulty.
“I’m glad I found you, Cap,” said he. “It saved me a trip out to your ship in the dark.”
“What’s the matter?”
Dextry drew him to an isolated20 corner. “Me an’ my partner want to send a man to the States with you.”
“All right.”
“Well—er—here’s the point,” hesitated the miner, who rebelled at asking favors. “He’s our law sharp, an’ the McNamara outfit is tryin’ to put the steel on him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Why, they’ve swore out a warrant an’ aim to guard the shore to-morrow. We want you to—”
“Mr. Dextry, I’m not looking for trouble. I get enough in my own business.”
“But, see here,” argued the other, “we’ve got to send him out so he can make a pow-wow to the big legal smoke in ’Frisco. We’ve been cold-decked with a bum21 judge. They’ve got us into a corner an’ over the ropes.”
“I’m sorry I can’t help you, Dextry, but I got mixed up in one of your scrapes and that’s plenty.”
“This ain’t no stowaway22. There’s no danger to you,” began Dextry, but the officer interrupted him:
“There’s no need of arguing. I won’t do it.”
“Oh, you won’t, eh?” said the old man, beginning to lose his temper. “Well, you listen to me for a minute. Everybody in camp knows that me an’ the kid is on the square an’ that we’re gettin’ the bunk23 passed to us. Now, this lawyer party must get away to-night or these grafters will hitch25 the horses to him on some phony charge so he can’t get to the upper court. It’ll be him to the bird-cage for ninety days. He’s goin’ to the States, though, an’ he’s goin’—in—your—wagon! I’m talkin’ to you—man to man. If you don’t take him, I’ll go to the health inspector—he’s a friend of mine—an’ I’ll put a crimp in you an’ your steamboat. I don’t want to do that—it ain’t my reg’lar graft24 by no means—but this bet goes through as she lays. I never belched26 up a secret before. No, sir; I am the human huntin’-case watch, an’ I won’t open my face unless you press me. But if I should, you’ll see that it’s time for you to hunt a new job. Now, here’s my scheme.” He outlined his directions to the sailor, who had fallen silent during the warning. When he had done, Stephens said:
“I never had a man talk to me like that before, sir—never. You’ve taken advantage of me, and under the circumstances I can’t refuse. I’ll do this thing—not because of your threat, but because I heard about your trouble over the Midas—and because I can’t help admiring your blamed insolence27.” He went back into his stall.
Dextry returned to Wheaton’s office. As he neared it, he passed a lounging figure in an adjacent doorway28.
“The place is watched,” he announced as he entered. “Have you got a back door? Good! Leave your light burning and we’ll go out that way.” They slipped quietly into an inky, tortuous29 passage which led back towards Second Street. Floundering through alleys31 and over garbage heaps, by circuitous32 routes, they reached the bridge, where, in the swift stream beneath, they saw the lights from Mac’s tug.
Steam was up, and when the Captain had let them aboard Dextry gave him instructions, to which he nodded acquiescence33. They bade the lawyer adieu, and the little craft slipped its moorings, danced down the current, across the bar, and was swallowed up in the darkness to seaward.
“I’ll put out Wheaton’s light so they’ll think he’s gone to bed.”
“Yes, and at daylight I’ll take your place in McNamara’s loft,” said Glenister. “There will be doings to-morrow when they don’t find him.”
They returned by the way they had come to the lawyer’s room, extinguished his light, went to their own cabin and to bed. At dawn Glenister arose and sought his place above McNamara’s office.
To lie stretched at length on a single plank34 with eye glued to a crack is not a comfortable position, and the watcher thought the hours of the next day would never end. As they dragged wearily past, his bones began to ache beyond endurance, yet owing to the flimsy structure of the building he dared not move while the room below was tenanted. In fact, he would not have stirred had he dared, so intense was his interest in the scenes being enacted35 beneath him.
First had come the marshal, who reported his failure to find Wheaton.
“He left his room some time last night. My men followed him in and saw a light in his window until two o’clock this morning. At seven o’clock we broke in and he was gone.”
“He must have got wind of our plan. Send deputies aboard the Santa Maria; search her from keel to top-mast, and have them watch the beach close or he’ll put off in a small boat. You look over the passengers that go aboard yourself. Don’t trust any of your men for that, because he may try to slip through disguised. He’s liable to make up like a woman. You understand—there’s only one ship in port, and—he mustn’t get away.”
“He won’t,” said Voorhees, with conviction, and the listener overhead smiled grimly to himself, for at that moment, twenty miles offshore36, lay Mac’s little tug, hove to in the track of the outgoing steamship37, and in her tiny cabin sat Bill Wheaton eating breakfast.
As the morning wore by with no news of the lawyer, McNamara’s uneasiness grew. At noon the marshal returned with a report that the passengers were all aboard and the ship about to clear.
“By Heavens! He’s slipped through you,” stormed the politician.
“No, he hasn’t. He may be hidden aboard somewhere among the coal-bunkers, but I think he’s still ashore38 and aiming to make a quick run just before she sails. He hasn’t left the beach since daylight, that’s sure. I’m going out to the ship now with four men and search her again. If we don’t bring him off you can bet he’s lying out somewhere in town and we’ll get him later. I’ve stationed men along the shore for two miles.”
“I won’t have him get away. If he should reach ’Frisco—Tell your men I’ll give five hundred dollars to the one that finds him.”
Three hours later Voorhees returned.
“She sailed without him.”
The politician cursed. “I don’t believe it. He tricked you. I know he did.”
Glenister grinned into a half-eaten sandwich, then turned upon his back and lay thus on the plank, identifying the speakers below by their voices.
He kept his post all day. Later in the evening he heard Struve enter. The man had been drinking.
“So he got away, eh?” he began. “I was afraid he would. Smart fellow, that Wheaton.”
“He didn’t get away,” said McNamara. “He’s in town yet. Just let me land him in jail on some excuse! I’ll hold him till snow flies.” Struve sank into a chair and lit a cigarette with wavering hand.
“This ’s a hell of a game, ain’t it, Mac? D’you s’pose we’ll win?”
“Win? Aren’t we winning? What do you call this? I only hope we can lay hands on Wheaton. He knows things. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, but more is worse. Lord! If only I had a man for judge in place of Stillman! I don’t know why I brought him.”
“That’s right. Too weak. He hasn’t got the backbone42 of an angleworm. He ain’t half the man that his niece is. There’s a girl for you! Say! What’d we do without her, eh? She’s a pippin!” Glenister felt a sudden tightening43 of every muscle. What right had that man’s liquor-sodden lips to speak so of her?
“She’s a brave little woman all right. Just look how she worked Glenister and his fool partner. It took nerve to bring in those instructions of yours alone; and if it hadn’t been for her we’d never have won like this. It makes me laugh to think of those two men stowing her away in their state-room while they slept between decks with the sheep, and her with the papers in her bosom44 all the time. Then, when we got ready to do business, why, she up and talks them into giving us possession of their mine without a fight. That’s what I call reciprocating45 a man’s affection.”
Glenister’s nails cut into his flesh, while his face went livid at the words. He could not grasp it at once. It made him sick—physically sick—and for many moments he strove blindly to beat back the hideous46 suspicion, the horror that the lawyer had aroused. His was not a doubting disposition47, and to him the girl had seemed as one pure, mysterious, apart, angelically incapable48 of deceit. He had loved her, feeling that some day she would return his affection without fail. In her great, unclouded eyes he had found no lurking-place for double-dealing. Now—God! It couldn’t be that all the time she had known!
He had lost a part of the lawyer’s speech, but peered through his observation-hole again.
McNamara was at the window gazing out into the dark street, his back towards the lawyer, who lolled in the chair, babbling49 garrulously50 of the girl. Glenister ground his teeth—a frenzy51 possessed52 him to loose his anger, to rip through the frail53 ceiling with naked hands and fall vindictively54 upon the two men.
“She looked good to me the first time I saw her,” continued Struve. He paused, and when he spoke55 again a change had coarsened his features. “Say, I’m crazy about her, Mac. I tell you, I’m crazy—and she likes me—I know she does—or, anyway, she would—”
“Do you mean that you’re in love with her?” asked the man at the window, without shifting his position. It seemed that utter indifference56 was in his question, although where the light shone on his hands, tight-clinched57 behind his back, they were bloodless.
“Love her? Well—that depends—ha! You know how it is—” he chuckled58, coarsely. His face was gross and bestial59. “I’ve got the Judge where I want him, and I’ll have her—”
His miserable60 words died with a gurgle, for McNamara had silently leaped and throttled61 him where he sat, pinning him to the wall. Glenister saw the big politician shift his fingers slightly on Struve’s throat and then drop his left hand to his side, holding his victim writhing62 and helpless with his right despite the man’s frantic63 struggles. McNamara’s head was thrust forward from his shoulders, peering into the lawyer’s face. Struve tore ineffectually at the iron arm which was squeezing his life out, while for endless minutes the other leaned his weight against him, his idle hand behind his back, his legs braced64 like stone columns, as he watched his victim’s struggles abate65.
Struve fought and wrenched66 while his breath caught in his throat with horrid67, sickening sounds, but gradually his eyes rolled farther and farther back till they stared out of his blackened visage, straight up towards the ceiling, towards the hole through which Glenister peered. His struggles lessened68, his chin sagged69, and his tongue protruded70, then he sat loose and still. The politician flung him out into the room so that he fell limply upon his face, then stood watching him. Finally, McNamara passed out of the watcher’s vision, returning with a water-bucket. With his foot he rolled the unconscious wretch71 upon his back, then drenched72 him. Replacing the pail, he seated himself, lit a cigar, and watched the return of life into his victim. He made no move, even to drag him from the pool in which he lay.
Struve groaned73 and shuddered74, twisted to his side, and at last sat up weakly. In his eyes there was now a great terror, while in place of his drunkenness was only fear and faintness—abject fear of the great bulk that sat and smoked and stared at him so fishily76. He felt uncertainly of his throat, and groaned again.
“Why did you do that?” he whispered; but the other made no sign. He tried to rise, but his knees relaxed; he staggered and fell. At last he gained his feet and made for the door; then, when his hand was on the knob, McNamara spoke through his teeth, without removing his cigar.
“Don’t ever talk about her again. She is going to marry me.”
When he was alone he looked curiously77 up at the ceiling over his head. “The rats are thick in this shack,” he mused78. “Seems to me I heard a whole swarm79 of them.”
A few moments later a figure crept through the hole in the roof of the house next door and thence down into the street. A block ahead was the slow-moving form of Attorney Struve. Had a stranger met them both he would not have known which of the two had felt at his throat the clutch of a strangler, for each was drawn80 and haggard and swayed as he went.
Glenister unconsciously turned towards his cabin, but at leaving the lighted streets the thought of its darkness and silence made him shudder75. Not now! He could not bear that stillness and the company of his thoughts. He dared not be alone. Dextry would be down-town, undoubtedly81, and he, too, must get into the light and turmoil82. He licked his lips and found that they were cracked and dry.
At rare intervals83 during the past years he had staggered in from a long march where, for hours, he had waged a bitter war with cold and hunger, his limbs clumsy with fatigue84, his garments wet and stiff, his mind slack and sullen85. At such extreme seasons he had felt a consuming thirst, a thirst which burned and scorched86 until his very bones cried out feverishly87. Not a thirst for water, nor a thirst which eaten snow could quench88, but a savage89 yearning90 of his whole exhausted91 system for some stimulant, for some coursing fiery92 fluid that would burn and strangle. A thirst for whiskey—for brandy! Remembering these occasional ferocious93 desires, he had become charitable to such unfortunates as were too weak to withstand similar temptations.
Now with a shock he caught himself in the grip of a thirst as insistent94 as though the cold bore down and the weariness of endless heavy miles wrapped him about. It was no foolish wish to drown his thoughts nor to banish95 the grief that preyed96 upon him, but only thirst! Thirst!—a crying, trembling, physical lust97 to quench the fires that burned inside. He remembered that it had been more than a year since he had tasted whiskey. Now the fever of the past few hours had parched98 his every tissue.
As he elbowed in through the crowd at the Northern, those next him made room at the bar, for they recognized the hunger that peers thus from men’s faces. Their manner recalled Glenister to his senses, and he wrenched himself away. This was not some solitary99, snow-banked road-house. He would not stand and soak himself, shoulder to shoulder with stevedores100 and longshoremen. This was something to be done in secret. He had no pride in it. The man on his right raised a glass, and the young man strangled a madness to tear it from his hands. Instead, he hurried back to the theatre and up to a box, where he drew the curtains.
“Whiskey!” he said, thickly, to the waiter. “Bring it to me fast. Don’t you hear? Whiskey!”
Across the theatre Cherry Malotte had seen him enter and jerk the curtains together. She arose and went to him, entering without ceremony.
“What’s the matter, boy?” she questioned.
“Ah! I am glad you came. Talk to me.”
“Thank you for your few well-chosen remarks,” she laughed. “Why don’t you ask me to spring some good, original jokes? You look like the finish to a six-day go-as-you-please. What’s up?”
She talked to him for a moment until the waiter entered; then, when she saw what he bore, she snatched the glass from the tray and poured the whiskey on the floor. Glenister was on his feet and had her by the wrist.
“What do you mean?” he said, roughly.
“It’s whiskey, boy,” she cried, “and you don’t drink.”
“Of course it’s whiskey. Bring me another,” he shouted at the attendant.
“What’s the matter?” Cherry insisted. “I never saw you act so. You know you don’t drink. I won’t let you. It’s booze—booze, I tell you, fit for fools and brawlers. Don’t drink it, Roy. Are you in trouble?”
“I say I’m thirsty—and I will have it! How do you know what it is to smoulder inside, and feel your veins101 burn dry?”
“It’s something about that girl,” the woman said, with quiet conviction. “She’s double-crossed you.”
“Well, so she has—but what of it? I’m thirsty. She’s going to marry McNamara. I’ve been a fool.” He ground his teeth and reached for the drink with which the boy had returned.
“McNamara is a crook102, but he’s a man, and he never drank a drop in his life.” The girl said it, casually103, evenly, but the other stopped the glass half-way to his lips.
She flushed, but continued, “It simply occurred to me that if you aren’t strong enough to handle your own throat, you’re not strong enough to beat a man who has mastered his.”
Glenister looked at the whiskey a moment, then set it back on the tray.
“Bring two lemonades,” he said, and with a laugh which was half a sob1 Cherry Malotte leaned forward and kissed him.
“You’re too good a man to drink. Now, tell me all about it.”
“Oh, it’s too long! I’ve just learned that the girl is in, hand and glove, with the Judge and McNamara—that’s all. She’s an advance agent—their lookout105. She brought in their instructions to Struve and persuaded Dex and me to let them jump our claim. She got us to trust in the law and in her uncle. Yes, she hypnotized my property out of me and gave it to her lover, this ward30 politician. Oh, she’s smooth, with all her innocence106! Why, when she smiles she makes you glad and good and warm, and her eyes are as honest and clear as a mountain pool, but she’s wrong—she’s wrong—and—great God! how I love her!” He dropped his face into his hands.
When she had pled with him for himself a moment before Cherry Malotte was genuine and girlish but now as he spoke thus of the other woman a change came over her which he was too disturbed to note. She took on the subtleness that masked her as a rule, and her eyes were not pleasant.
“I could have told you all that and more.”
“More! What more?” he questioned.
“Do you remember when I warned you and Dextry that they were coming to search your cabin for the gold? Well, that girl put them on to you. I found it out afterwards. She keeps the keys to McNamara’s safety vault107 where your dust lies, and she’s the one who handles the Judge. It isn’t McNamara at all.” The woman lied easily, fluently, and the man believed her.
“Do you remember when they broke into your safe and took that money?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what made them think you had ten thousand in there?”
“I don’t know.”
“I do. Dextry told her.”
Glenister arose. “That’s all I want to hear now. I’m going crazy. My mind aches, for I’ve never had a fight like this before and it hurts. You see, I’ve been an animal all these years. When I wanted to drink, I drank, and what I wanted, I got, because I’ve been strong enough to take it. This is new to me. I’m going down-stairs now and try to think of something else—then I’m going home.”
When he had gone she pulled back the curtains, and, leaning her chin in her hands, with elbows on the ledge41, gazed down upon the crowd. The show was over and the dance had begun, but she did not see it, for she was thinking rapidly with the eagerness of one who sees the end of a long and weary search. She did not notice the Bronco Kid beckoning108 to her nor the man with him, so the gambler brought his friend along and invaded her box. He introduced the man as Mr. Champian.
“Do you feel like dancing?” the new-comer inquired.
“No; I’d rather look on. I feel sociable109. You’re a society man, Mr. Champian. Don’t you know anything of interest? Scandal or the like?”
“Can’t say that I do. My wife attends to all that for the family. But I know there’s lots of it. It’s funny to me, the airs some of these people assume up here, just as though we weren’t all equal, north of Fifty-three. I never heard the like.”
“Anything new and exciting?” inquired Bronco, mildly interested.
“The last I heard was about the Judge’s niece, Miss Chester.”
Cherry Malotte turned abruptly110, while the Kid slowly lowered the front legs of his chair to the floor.
“What was it?” she inquired.
“Why, it seems she compromised herself pretty badly with this fellow Glenister coming up on the steamer last spring. Mighty111 brazen112, according to my wife. Mrs. Champian was on the same ship and says she was horribly shocked.”
Ah! Glenister had told her only half the tale, thought the girl. The truth was baring itself. At that moment Champian thought she looked the typical creature of the dance-halls, the crafty113, jealous, malevolent114 adventuress.
“She is a lady,” said the Kid. He sat bolt upright and rigid116, and the knuckles117 of his clinched hands were very white. In the shadow they did not note that his dark face was ghastly, nor did he say more except to bid Champian good-bye when he left, later on. After the door had closed, however, the Kid arose and stretched his muscles, not languidly, but as though to take out the cramp118 of long tension. He wet his lips, and his mouth was so dry that the sound caused the girl to look up.
“What are you grinning at?” Then, as the light struck his face, she started. “My! How you look! What ails39 you? Are you sick?” No one, from Dawson down, had seen the Bronco Kid as he looked to-night.
“No. I’m not sick,” he answered, in a cracked voice.
Then the girl laughed harshly.
“Do you love that girl, too? Why, she’s got every man in town crazy.”
She wrung119 her hands, which is a bad sign in a capable person, and as Glenister crossed the floor below in her sight she said, “Ah-h—I could kill him for that!”
“So could I,” said the Kid, and left her without adieu.
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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mandates
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| 托管（mandate的第三人称单数形式） | |
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junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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loft
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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affidavits
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| n.宣誓书，（经陈述者宣誓在法律上可采作证据的）书面陈述( affidavit的名词复数 ) | |
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transcripts
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| n.抄本（ transcript的名词复数 ）；转写本；文字本；副本 | |
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proceedings
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bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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obstruction
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stimulant
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| n.刺激物，兴奋剂 | |
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prospector
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| n.探矿者 | |
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systematic
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| adj.有系统的，有计划的，有方法的 | |
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tar
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| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
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boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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tug
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ascending
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isolated
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bum
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stowaway
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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graft
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| n.移植，嫁接，艰苦工作，贪污；v.移植，嫁接 | |
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25
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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belched
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| v.打嗝( belch的过去式和过去分词 )；喷出，吐出；打（嗝）；嗳（气） | |
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27
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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28
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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29
tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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30
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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31
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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32
circuitous
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| adj.迂回的路的，迂曲的，绕行的 | |
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33
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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34
plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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35
enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
offshore
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| adj.海面的，吹向海面的；adv.向海面 | |
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37
steamship
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| n.汽船，轮船 | |
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38
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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39
ails
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| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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40
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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41
ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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42
backbone
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| n.脊骨，脊柱，骨干；刚毅，骨气 | |
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43
tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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44
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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45
reciprocating
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| adj.往复的；来回的；交替的；摆动的v.报答，酬答( reciprocate的现在分词 )；（机器的部件）直线往复运动 | |
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46
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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47
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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48
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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49
babbling
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| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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50
garrulously
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51
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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52
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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53
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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54
vindictively
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| adv.恶毒地；报复地 | |
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55
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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56
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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57
clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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58
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
bestial
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| adj.残忍的；野蛮的 | |
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60
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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throttled
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| v.扼杀( throttle的过去式和过去分词 )；勒死；使窒息；压制 | |
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62
writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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63
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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65
abate
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| vi.(风势，疼痛等)减弱，减轻，减退 | |
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66
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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67
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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68
lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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69
sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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70
protruded
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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72
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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73
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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74
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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75
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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76
fishily
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| adv.无表情地，多鱼地 | |
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77
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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78
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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79
swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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80
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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81
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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82
turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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83
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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84
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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85
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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86
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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87
feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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88
quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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89
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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90
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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91
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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92
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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93
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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94
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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95
banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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96
preyed
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| v.掠食( prey的过去式和过去分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
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97
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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98
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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99
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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100
stevedores
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| n.码头装卸工人，搬运工( stevedore的名词复数 ) | |
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101
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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102
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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103
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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104
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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105
lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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106
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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107
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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108
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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109
sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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110
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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111
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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112
brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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113
crafty
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| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
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114
malevolent
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| adj.有恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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115
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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116
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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117
knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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118
cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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119
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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