“Yes, top-lofty, I promise to help you. But first you must help yourself. You must pledge your 203 word, the word of a dying man, that he dare not break. You will restore everything that you have taken from the mistress of Sobrante––or anybody else––so far as it will hereafter be in your power; you shall compel your Brother Ferd to guide a party of prospectors to that secret spot in the canyon where that piece of copper came from; and you shall do all that it is possible to do for the good, and not the evil, of your neighbors. That all clear?”
“But, yes, yes!” whispered Antonio, frantically. “Haste! Oh, haste!”
“I’m a-hasting, but I ain’t a-hurrin’. Which is a good thing for you, ’cause so I can think this thing over. That ball in your back will have to come out. I’ve taken some from folks myself, once or twice, but this one is in a ticklish place. A doctor is what we want, and the nearest one is ten miles away on Kimball’s ranch. He’d rather potter with his roses than other folks’ bullets, and I’ll have a tough piece of work to drag him up here, especially to see––you.”
With an impressive emphasis on the word “you” John paused, and waited some rejoinder. None came, and though Jessica again exclaimed against the carpenter’s contemptuous tone, Antonio neither resented it, nor felt it undeserved. Then Benton continued:
“Sharp, here, is a writin’ fellow, and knows what’s what every time. In the jerk of a lamb’s tail he’ll draw up a paper which’ll explain what you promise, and you’ve got strength enough to sign your name to it. The minute you do that I’m off for Kimball, and I’ll fetch him up here fast as horses can travel––if I have to carry him on my back!”
“Quick! The paper! I sign––I live!”
“Quick” it was, and though Ninian was no lawyer, he was always well provided with pads and fountain pens. Also, he was clever enough to use the longest and most impressive words wherever possible, and thus convinced the senor that the document sounded legally important. Indeed, the injured manager could scarcely wait to affix his signature, so eager was he that John should be off on his errand of salvation.
An hour later the padre came, and Jessica led Ninian away, that the pair might have the cottage to themselves. Then, when this visitation was over, the good man lingered, that he might hear for himself the doctor’s opinion when he should arrive. He, too, had listened to another confession from the truly repentant Antonio; but there was still a sacred office to perform if this awaited opinion should be for death, not life. But he had ridden far, and was tired, having come directly from his own church service at the distant mission, and Jessica’s hospitality could not endure to see the look of weariness on the old man’s kindly face.
“Beg pardon, Fra Sebastian, but would you like a cup of coffee?”