Dopey started toward Helen with his slung-shot raised for a crushing blow, when he stopped suddenly with his arm raised, as he saw behind John the long figure of Morris, who stood there, with his pistol raised, ready to fire.
Morris had not lived long as he had in the West without learning how to shoot and to employ some of the picturesque language in use there.
“Looket out, mein frients! Diss is de Yiddish doctor, und he might fill you full of a kint of pills you vouldn’t like so vell.”
“Get away, Dopey; here comes someone else we don’t want to meet.” And they started away so suddenly that Morris had no chance to shoot, had he dared fire in that crowded place.
“Und I dare not shoot, although dose are de mens vot haf mein Dora.”
“They are the ones that killed the man in your shop, for I saw the big one take off his whiskers—and it was the same one!”
“Und mein chilt, maype, is among dis crowd. May de goot Gott show me de vay to fint her!”
While this was transpiring, Helen was kneeling at Loney’s side, weeping with joy and kissing the child at the same time. “May He help you to find your child as He has helped me find mine! Loney is my own little boy, whom Heaven has sent back to his mother’s heart. Thank God! that he did not die!”
“I knew that you would come back some day, for I always prayed you would. I knew I would find my mother. I don’t like my father, for he is bad and wicked. He tried to kill me, and carried Dora away!”
“Is that so, Mr. Goldberg? It is then but an added crime.”