“No! It wasn’t! It was Stiff Neck George! And he had something heavy in his hand! You’d better go and watch him!”
She was struggling in his arms, her breath hot against his cheek, fear and rage in every word, but he crushed her roughly to his side.
“Never mind about George,” he said. “What are youdoing up here, now?”
“But he’ll blow up your mine! I’ve heard him threaten to! I just came up to tell you!”
“Oh, that’s different!” returned Wiley, relaxing his grip, “but never mind–my watchman will get him.”
“No! The watchman is asleep–I didn’t see him anywhere! Oh, Wiley; please run and stop him!”
“Nope,” replied Wiley, “he can blow the whole mill up–I want to ask you a question.”
He released her reluctantly, for the touch of her had thrilled him, and the sweetness of her breath on his cheek–but she darted down the trail like a rabbit.
198“Here! Wait!” he ordered and outran her in ten jumps, at which she stooped and snatched up a rock.
“Put that down!” he said, and as she swung back the rock, he braved it and caught her anyway. “Now,” he went on, trembling from the smash of the blow, but holding her in a grip of steel, “we’ll see what all this is about!”