Then, hearing footsteps, Helen started out to meet Snakes who was returning with a jar of startlingly large proportions.
It was Goldberg and Bennie whose steps Helen had heard, and they came into the saloon from the dining-room, where Bennie had persuaded Mr. Goldberg to drink a cup of coffee. His own appetite needed no urging. The elder man wanted some tobacco, and, as they came in, he said:
“Und, take my atvice, Bennie, nefer touch it. Let it alone, strictly. It is no goot. Viskey is de bummest stuff, A1, double Xs.”
“No fear, Mr. Goldberg. I never use it. But, tell me——”
And then the same old question of the disappearance of Dora came uppermost again.
“De only news I effer hat vos dot dey tooket her to Cheyenne, und den I vatch und look und hunt, und von day I heard dot a party of four dot looket like dem haf come dis vay. So I come, too. Ah, Bennie! vot ve haf sufferet—Loney und I! Ah, Gott! und if I shall lif to pe twice as olt as Methusela I shall nefer forget dis place vot dey call Hellandgone. Poor Dora! if dey haf pring her here ve nefer vill find her!”
And Dora was not ten feet away from her father and lover, lying in a stupor from the potion which Muriel had found it necessary to give her to calm her nerves, for some subtle instinct seemed to warn the poor girl that her loved ones were near.
While Morris and Bennie were waiting for Snakesy Duffy to return, Helen came back for the tobacco she had wished to take with her. She started, on seeing the shoemaker, whose strong features were not of a mould to be easily forgotten. After one sharp look she advanced to him, saying:
“It is! It is my preserver! Praise Heaven! I see you again!”
“You are mistakenet, matam. I gannot efen preserve meinselluf. I am de wrong man. I don’t know you.”