“No; you stay and make da gentlemen company.”
Then, having stood quite still and looked at Merry, the queer man suddenly held out his hand, exclaiming:
“I t’ank you, sir, for save my little girl. I love her. She is all I have left since her mother go ’way forever.”
Frank was touched.
“Don’t mention it, Delores,” he said, as he took the offered hand. “Her cry of distress appealed to me, and I was ready to fight to the death for her.”
“I know da men who were carryin’ her off,” said Felicia’s father, his eyes flashing. “Da come here an’ make da threat when da no find what da want. I go to look for dem, but I did not t’ink da get dis side of me. I t’ink my Felicia be safe.”
Then he stooped and put his arms lovingly about the little girl, whom he kissed with great tenderness.
“You knew the men?” said Merry. “What did they want?”
“Somet’ing da never get,” answered Delores. “Da big one be Gunnison Bill, da worst dog in da State!”
“That’s the one I had the fight with,” nodded Merry.