The judge of the United States court of the district lying along the Rio Grande border found the following letter one morning in his mail:
JUDGE:
When you sent me up for four years you made a talk. Among other hard things, you called me a rattlesnake. Maybe I am one -- anyhow, you hear me rattling3 now. One year after I got to the pen, my daughter died of -- well, they said it was poverty and the disgrace together. You've got a daughter, Judge, and I'm going to make you know how it feels to lose one. And I'm going to bite that district attorney that spoke4 against me. I'm free now, and I guess I've turned to rattlesnake all right. I feel like one. I don't say much, but this is my rattle1. Look out when I strike.
Yours respectfully,
RATTLESNAKE.
Judge Derwent threw the letter carelessly aside. It was nothing new to receive such epistles from desperate men whom he had been called upon to judge. He felt no alarm. Later on he showed the letter to Littlefield, the young district attorney, for Littlefield's name was included in the threat, and the judge was punctilious5 in matters between himself and his fellow men.
Littlefield honoured the rattle of the writer, as far as it concerned himself, with a smile of contempt; but he frowned a little over the reference to the Judge's daughter, for he and Nancy Derwent were to be married in the fall.
Littlefield went to the clerk of the court and looked over the records with him. They decided6 that the letter might have been sent by Mexico Sam, a half-breed border desperado who had been imprisoned7 for manslaughter four years before. Then official duties crowded the mat- ter from his mind, and the rattle of the revengeful serpent was forgotten.
Court was in session at Brownsville. Most of the cases to be tried were charges of smuggling8, counterfeiting9, post-office robberies, and violations11 of Federal laws along the border. One case was that of a young Mexican, Rafael Ortiz, who had been rounded up by a clever deputy marshal in the act of passing a counterfeit10 silver dollar. He had been suspected of many such deviations12 from rectitude, but this was the first time that anything provable had been fixed13 upon him. Ortiz languished14 cozily in jail, smoking brown cigarettes and waiting for trial. Kilpatrick, the deputy, brought the counterfeit dollar and handed it to the district attorney in his office in the court-house. The deputy and a reputable druggist were prepared to swear that Ortiz paid for a bottle of medicine with it. The coin was a poor counterfeit, soft, dull-looking, and made principally of lead. It was the day before the morning on which the docket would reach the case of Ortiz, and the district attorney was preparing himself for trial.
"Not much need of having in high-priced experts to prove the coin's queer, is there, Kil?" smiled Littlefield, as he thumped15 the dollar down upon the table, where it fell with no more ring than would have come from a lump of putty.
"I guess the Greaser's as good as behind the bars," said the deputy, easing up his holsters. "You've got him dead. If it had been just one time, these Mexicans can't tell good money from bad; but this little yaller rascal16 belongs to a gang of counterfeiters, I know. This is the first time I've been able to catch him doing the trick. He's got a girl down there in them Mexican jacals on the river bank. I seen her one day when I was watching him. She's as pretty as a red heifer in a flower bed."
Littlefield shoved the counterfeit dollar into his pocket, and slipped his memoranda17 of the case into an envelope. Just then a bright, winsome18 face, as frank and jolly as a boy's, appeared in the doorway19, and in walked Nancy Derwent.
"Oh, Bob, didn't court adjourn20 at twelve to-day until to-morrow?" she asked of Littlefield.
"It did," said the district attorney, "and I'm very glad of it. I've got a lot of rulings to look up, and -- "
"Now, that's just like you. I wonder you and father don't turn to law books or rulings or something! I want you to take me out plover21-shooting this afternoon. Long Prairie is just alive with them. Don't say no, please! I want to try my new twelve-bore hammerless. I've sent to the livery stable to engage Fly and Bess for the buckboard; they stand fire so nicely. I was sure you would go."
They were to be married in the fall. The glamour22 was at its height. The plovers23 won the day -- or, rather, the afternoon -- over the calf-bound authorities. Littlefield began to put his papers away.
There was a knock at the door. Kilpatrick answered it. A beautiful, dark-eyed girl with a skin tinged24 with the faintest lemon colour walked into the room. A black shawl was thrown over her head and wound once around her neck.
She began to talk in Spanish, a voluble, mournful stream of melancholy25 music. Littlefield did not under- stand Spanish. The deputy did, and he translated her talk by portions, at intervals26 holding up his hand to check the flow of her words.
"She came to see you, Mr. Littlefield. Her name's Joya Trevi?as. She wants to see you about -- well, she's mixed up with that Rafael Ortiz. She's his -- she's his girl. She says he's innocent. She says she made the money and got him to pass it. Don't you believe her, Mr. Little-field. That's the way with these Mexi- can girls; they'll lie, steal, or kill for a fellow when they get stuck on him. Never trust a woman that's in love!"
"Mr. Kilpatrick!"
Nancy Derwent's indignant exclamation27 caused the deputy to flounder for a moment in attempting to explain that he had misquoted his own sentiments, and then he event on with the translation:
"She says she's willing to take his place in the jail if you'll let him out. She says she was down sick with the fever, and the doctor said she'd die if she didn't have medicine. That's why he passed the lead dollar on the drug store. She says it saved her life. This Rafal. seems to be her honey, all right; there's a lot of stuff in her talk about love and such things that you don't want to hear."
It was an old story to the district attorney.
"Tell her," said he, "that I can do nothing. The case comes up in the morning, and he will have to make his fight before the court."
Nancy Derwent was not so hardened. She was look- ing with sympathetic interest at Joya Trevi?as and at Littlefield alternately. The deputy repeated the dis- trict attorney's words to the girl. She spoke a sentence or two in a low voice, pulled her shawl closely about her face, and left the room.
"What did she say then?" asked the district attorney.
"Nothing special," said the deputy. "She said: 'If the life of the one' -- let's see how it went -- 'Si la vida de ella a quien tu amas -- if the life of the girl you love is ever in danger, remember Rafael Ortiz.'"
Kilpatrick strolled out through the corridor in the direction of the marshal's office.
"Can't you do anything for them, Bob?" asked Nancy. "It's such a little thing -- just one counterfeit dollar -- to ruin the happiness of two lives! She was in danger of death, and he did it to save her. Doesn't the law know the feeling of pity?"
"It hasn't a place in jurisprudence, Nan," said Little- field, "especially in re the district attorney's duty. I'll promise you that the prosecution29 will not be vindictive30; but the man is as good as convicted when the case is called. Witnesses will swear to his passing the bad dollar which I have in my pocket at this moment as 'Exhibit A.' There are no Mexicans on the jury, and it will vote Mr. Greaser guilty without leaving the box."
The plover-shooting was fine that afternoon, and in the excitement of the sport the case of Rafael and the grief of Joya Trevi?as was forgotten. The district attor- ney and Nancy Derwent drove out from the town three miles along a smooth, grassy31 road, and then struck across a rolling prairie toward a heavy line of timber on Piedra Creek32. Beyond this creek lay Long Prairie, the favourite haunt of the plover. As they were nearing the creek they heard the galloping33 of a horse to their right, and saw a man with black hair and a swarthy face riding toward the woods at a tangent, as if he had come up behind them.
"I've seen that fellow somewhere," said Littlefield, who had a memory for faces, "but I can't exactly place him. Some ranchman, I suppose, taking a short cut home."
They spent an hour on Long Prairie, shooting from the buckboard. Nancy Derwent, an active, outdoor Western girl, was pleased with her twelve-bore. She had bagged within two brace34 of her companion's score.
They started homeward at a gentle trot35. When within a hundred yards of Piedra Creek a man rode out of the timber directly toward them.
"It looks like the man we saw coming over," remarked Miss Derwent.
As the distance between them lessened36, the district attorney suddenly pulled up his team sharply, with his eyes fixed upon the advancing horseman. That individ- ual had drawn37 a Winchester from its scabbard on his saddle and thrown it over his arm.
"Now I know you, Mexico Sam!" muttered Littlefield to himself. "It was you who shook your rattles2 in that gentle epistle."
Mexico Sam did not leave things long in doubt. He had a nice eye in all matters relating to firearms, so when he was within good rifle range, but outside of danger from No. 8 shot, he threw up his Winchester and opened fire upon the occupants of the buckboard.
The first shot cracked the back of the seat within the two-inch space between the shoulders of Littlefield and Miss Derwent. The next went through the dashboard and Littlefield's trouser leg.
The district attorney hustled38 Nancy out of the buck- board to the ground. She was a little pale, but asked no questions. She had the frontier instinct that accepts conditions in an emergency without superfluous39 argument. They kept their guns in hand, and Littlefield hastily gathered some handfuls of cartridges40 from the pasteboard box on the seat and crowded them into his pockets
"Keep behind the horses, Nan," he commanded. "That fellow is a ruffian I sent to prison once. He's trying to get even. He knows our shot won't hurt him at that distance."
"All right, Bob," said Nancy steadily41. "I'm not afraid. But you come close, too. Whoa, Bess; stand still, now!"
She stroked Bess's mane. Littlefield stood with his gun ready, praying that the desperado would come within range.
But Mexico Sam was playing his vendetta42 along safe lines. He was a bird of different feather from the plover. His accurate eye drew an imaginary line of circumference43 around the area of danger from bird-shot, and upon this line lie rode. His horse wheeled to the right, and as his victims rounded to the safe side of their equine breast- work he sent a ball through the district attorney's hat. Once he miscalculated in making a détour, and over- stepped Ms margin44. Littlefield's gun flashed, and Mexico Sam ducked his head to the harmless patter of the shot. A few of them stung his horse, which pranced45 promptly46 back to the safety line.
The desperado fired again. A little cry came from Nancy Derwent. Littlefield whirled, with blazing eyes, and saw the blood trickling47 down her cheek.
"I'm not hurt, Bob -- only a splinter struck me. I think he hit one of the wheel-spokes."
"Lord!" groaned48 Littlefield. "If I only had a charge of buckshot!"
The ruffian got his horse still, and took careful aim. Fly gave a snort and fell in the harness, struck in the neck. Bess, now disabused49 of the idea that plover were being fired at, broke her traces and galloped50 wildly away -- Mexican Sam sent a ball neatly51 through the fulness of Nancy Derwent's shooting jacket.
"Lie down -- lie down!" snapped Littlefield. "close to the horse -- flat on the ground -- so." He almost threw her upon the grass against the back of the recum- bent52 Fly. Oddly enough, at that moment the words of the Mexican girl returned to his mind:
"If the life of the girl you love is ever in danger, remem- ber Rafael Ortiz."
Littlefield uttered an exclamation.
"Open fire on him, Nan, across the horse's back. Fire as fast as you can! You can't hurt him, but keep him dodging53 shot for one minute while I try to work a little scheme."
Nancy gave a quick glance at Littlefield, and saw him take out his pocket-knife and open it. Then she turned her face to obey orders, keeping up a rapid fire at the enemy.
Mexico Sam waited patiently until this innocuous fusillade ceased. He had plenty of time, and he did not care to risk the chance of a bird-shot in his eye when could be avoided by a little caution. He pulled his heavy Stetson low down over his face until the shots ceased.
Then he drew a little nearer, and fired with careful aim at what he could see of his victims above the fallen horse. Neither of them moved. He urged his horse a few steps nearer. He saw the district attorney rise to one knee and deliberately54 level his shotgun. He pulled his hat down and awaited the harmless rattle of the tiny pellets.
The shotgun blazed with a heavy report. Mexico Sam sighed, turned limp all over, and slowly fell from his horse -- a dead rattlesnake.
At ten o'clock the next morning court opened, and the case of the United States versus55 Rafael Ortiz was called. The district attorney, with his arm in a sling56, rose and addressed the court.
"May it please your honour," he said, "I desire to enter a nolle pros28. in this case. Even though the defend- ant should be guilty, there is not sufficient evidence in the hands of the government to secure a conviction. The piece of counterfeit coin upon the identity of which the case was built is not now available as evidence. I ask, therefore, that the case be stricken off."
At the noon recess57 Kilpatrick strolled into the district attorney's office.
"I've just been down to take a squint58 at old Mexico Sam," said the deputy. "They've got him laid out. Old Mexico was a tough outfit59, I reckon. The boys was wonderin' down there what you shot him with. Some said it must have been nails. I never see a gun carry anything to make holes like he had."
"I shot him," said the district attorney, "with Exhibit A of your counterfeiting case. Lucky thing for me -- and somebody else -- that it was as bad money as it was! It sliced up into slugs very nicely. Say, Kil, can't you go down to the jacals and find where that Mexican girl lives? Miss Derwent wants to know."
收听单词发音 |
1
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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rattles
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| （使）发出格格的响声， （使）作嘎嘎声( rattle的第三人称单数 )； 喋喋不休地说话； 迅速而嘎嘎作响地移动，堕下或走动； 使紧张，使恐惧 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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punctilious
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| adj.谨慎的，谨小慎微的 | |
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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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imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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smuggling
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| n.走私 | |
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counterfeiting
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| n.伪造v.仿制，造假( counterfeit的现在分词 ) | |
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counterfeit
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| vt.伪造，仿造；adj.伪造的，假冒的 | |
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violations
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| 违反( violation的名词复数 )； 冒犯； 违反（行为、事例）； 强奸 | |
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deviations
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| 背离，偏离( deviation的名词复数 )； 离经叛道的行为 | |
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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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languished
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| 长期受苦( languish的过去式和过去分词 )； 受折磨； 变得（越来越）衰弱； 因渴望而变得憔悴或闷闷不乐 | |
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thumped
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| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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memoranda
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| n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
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winsome
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| n.迷人的，漂亮的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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adjourn
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| v.（使）休会，（使）休庭 | |
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plover
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| n.珩，珩科鸟，千鸟 | |
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glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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plovers
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| n.珩，珩科鸟（如凤头麦鸡）( plover的名词复数 ) | |
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tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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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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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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pros
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| abbr.prosecuting 起诉；prosecutor 起诉人；professionals 自由职业者；proscenium （舞台）前部n.赞成的意见( pro的名词复数 )；赞成的理由；抵偿物；交换物 | |
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prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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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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brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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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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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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42
vendetta
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| n.世仇，宿怨 | |
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circumference
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| n.圆周，周长，圆周线 | |
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margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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pranced
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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48
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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disabused
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| v.去除…的错误想法( disabuse的过去式和过去分词 )；使醒悟 | |
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galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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51
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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52
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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53
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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versus
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| prep.以…为对手，对；与…相比之下 | |
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56
sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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58
squint
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| v. 使变斜视眼, 斜视, 眯眼看, 偏移, 窥视; n. 斜视, 斜孔小窗; adj. 斜视的, 斜的 | |
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59
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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