I did as directed, and the little fiery eyes turned toward me. Tommy brought down the whip-stock with such fury it shivered into splinters. At the same moment Stephens made a cat-like jump to the side.
The rattler lay coiling and writhing in his death agony.
We three humans stood staring at each other without speaking. A great deal had happened within ten minutes, and speech is for commonplaces—not for crises.
At last Stephens broke the silence. He stretched his long arms, and yawned.
“I feel stiff—sitting still so long,” he said.
Without warning, my nerves gave way; I burst into a strangled sobbing.
Immediately the two men began to pat and comfort me.
“Why, kid,” said Stephens, “you stood the rest of it like a thoroughbred; you mustn’t cry now—there—there, brace up, old man!”
Between them they managed to quiet me, and then Tommy turned timidly to Stephens.
“How about the trouble between us?” he asked.