Then that cruel grin gathered round his lips again.
“That’s a good idea,” he said. “Thrash you for myself, and hand you over to those others, after.”
But his words had not the effect which his physical force had. Perhaps the boy, with that peculiar twist he possessed, was reading the indecision, the uncertainty in his captor’s mind. Anyway, the terror in his eyes was becoming less, and a defiant light was taking its place. But Will could see none of this, and he went on.
“I’d hate to be handed over to the boys for hanging–––”
Elia suddenly shook his head.
“There’s no hangin’!” he cried, “and you know it. You send me to––the others an’ see what happens to you. I tell you, sis ’ud see you dead before she married you. Guess you best let me go right quick, an’ no more bulldozing.”
The boy had suddenly tacked to windward of him, and Will was confronted with an ugly “lee shore.” The trap he had fallen into was difficult, and he stood thinking. The dwarf had recovered himself, and his bland look of innocence returned to his eyes.
“I killed ’em nigh all––your chickens,” he said earnestly. “I’ll kill the rest later, because they’re yours. I can’t kill you because you are stronger than me, but I hate you. I’m goin’ right out of here now, an’ you won’t stop me.”
But the boy had overreached himself. Will was not easy when at bay.