"Steady there, man," he cried. He thought that he was just in time to rescue me from torture, and came forward with his whip raised.
"I beg your pardon," said the Professor, dropping me gently into my chair. "I didn't mean to hurt you, David. Did I hurt you?"
"Not at all, sir," I answered, and feeling more at ease with James near
I made a dive for my coat and hat.
"Well," said James, glaring at my host. "I advise you to keep your hands off anyway, for if I catch you a-hurting of him again—" There was a terrible threat in the eyes and in the upraised butt of the whip, but suddenly the manner changed, for James was looking at the bottle on the table and it had a strangely quieting influence on his temper. The blaze died away from his eyes; his voice became soft to meekness; the whip fell limply. "I might think you'd done it a-purpose, Professor, and you know I allus tries to be friendly."
"I hardly believe David will complain of my treatment," returned the Professor. "You see he came to us all wet and cold from a tumble into the creek."
James turned to me with wide-opened eyes. "And I suppose you met a rattler," he cried.
"Oh, yes," I answered, as though this was but a petty incident of my day.
"Well, you are a boy!" From me his eyes moved to the bottle again, and as he looked at it he began to tremble and his legs lost their strength and he sank to a chair by the table. "You'll be the death of me yet, Davy. Why, my nerves has all gone from just thinking of what might have happened."
His hand was groping toward the bottle, and he gave the Professor a glance that asked for his permission.
"Penelope," the Professor said quietly, "the gentleman would like a glass of water."