“Kill ’em,” sez Olaf, “with my two hands.”
He unbuckled his belt and threw it on the ground, then kicked off his chaps, and stepped through the ring we had formed. “Stop,” said the Friar. “Olaf, I forbid this.”
“You had better go to the house, Friar,” said Olaf with pleadin’ in his voice. “Go in—please go in—an’ comfort Kit.”
The Friar made a rush, but we fended him off. The Greasers also tried to make a get-away; and between the three of ’em we were some busy; but it didn’t last long. When the Greasers saw they couldn’t break our ring, they turned on Olaf like cornered rats. They struck him and they choked him; but not once did he speak, and whenever his grip closed on their flesh, he ruined that part forever. It was a horrid sight; but I couldn’t have turned my eyes away if I’d wanted to. In the end he broke their necks, one after the other, and then he stood up straight and wiped his forehead. “I take the blame,” said he. “I take all the blame, here and hereafter”; which certainly was a square thing to do, though we hadn’t counted on it, any.
[CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO—THE FRIAR GOES ALONE]
The Friar had been in earnest tryin’ to get to Olaf; so ’at the four Simpson boys had finally been forced to throw, an’ sit on him. As soon as it was over, they got up and apologized, offerin’ to let him take out any spite on ’em he saw fit, and promisin’ not to feel any ill-will; but the Friar wasn’t angry. He was hurt and sad to think ’at we’d do such a thing; but he had no resentment towards us.
“I know most of you men well,” said he; “and I know you have done this because you felt it was right. I don’t put you on one side and myself on the other. I take my full share o’ the blame. It merely proves that my influence with you during the many years we have been together has not been for the best, and I am very sorry to learn how poor my work has been.”
He turned and went up to the house; and we all felt nearly as bad about the way he had taken it as though the confounded Greasers had got away altogether. We talked it over and finally loaded their bodies into Olaf’s wagon, and hauled ’em up on the rim, where we buried ’em and heaped a lot o’ stones over ’em. We began to feel better after this, and shook hands all around, and the Simpsons and their three friends rode away.
Then we told the others about havin’ seen the Friar’s girl at Ty Jones’s and held a council as to how we should tell him. We finally delegated Horace to do it, though he wasn’t ambitious for the job. The Friar had told Kit that it was all over, and had left to take a walk without eatin’ any supper. We still felt purty low-spirited, and we didn’t eat much ourselves; though we felt certain he wouldn’t bother his head much about a couple o’ Greasers, as soon as he found out his own girl was Ty Jones’s woman.
The boys had come light from the Diamond Dot, but Horace had outfitted way beyond his needs, intendin’ to do consid’able campin’ around, and Olaf also had a couple of extra tarps and plenty o’ beddin’; so we fixed up our old bunk-shack which had been left standin’, and settled down as though the interval between our previous visit hadn’t been more ’n ten days.