“Ye see, Franzy,” begins Mamma in a conciliating tone, “I went ter take a look at ye—”
“Oh, ye did!”
“With the candle in my hand.”
“Jest so; an’ to get a good look, ye stuck it pretty close to my eyes. Wanted to see ef I was asleep, or playin’ possum, eh? Wall,” replacing one revolver in a hip-pocket, and trifling carelessly with the other, while he seats himself upon the couch, “what did ye find out?”
Though his tone was one of quiet mockery, there was an angry gleam in his eyes, and neither Papa nor Mamma ventured a reply.
“Mamma brings the candle very near to the closed eyes, waving it to and fro, rapidly.”—[page 309].
“I’ll tell ye what ye discovered, an’ it may be a good lesson fer ye,” he goes on in a low tone that was full of fierce intensity. “Ye have discovered that Franz Francoise asleep, and the same feller awake, are pretty much alike. It’s jest as onsafe to trifle with one as with the other. I’ve slept nearly ten years o’ my life with every nerve in me waitin’ fer a sign to wake quick and active. I’ve taught myself to go to sleep always with the same idea runnin’ in my head. An’ since I got out o’ that pen down there, I’m always armed, and I’m always ready. The brush of a fly’ll wake me, and it’ll take me just five seconds to shoot. So when ye experiment ’round me agin, ye want to fly kinder light. And, old woman, ye may thank yer stars that ye was so close ter me that ye didn’t come in for nothin’ more’n a tumble.”
He sits quite still for a few moments, and then rising slowly, goes over and seats himself on the edge of the table near which Papa stands.