I was bent upon saving her—perhaps for that other fellow, whom I hated; but, nevertheless, I was determined to save her at any cost.
All the while we were zigzagging across the city, and nearing blue water.
I tried to imagine I could smell the salty air, but that was impossible in Bolivar, since every cable had an odor peculiar unto itself, and each exceeded the preceding one in intensity.
Now and then I bawled out which turn Robbins was to make, who galloped in the van with the little dark-faced girl, for he was a complete stranger in Bolivar, while I had haunted almost every street in the days of my idling.
Once I saw a dark figure rise up ahead as if about to seize upon the mate, doubtless thinking all that came to his net fair prey.
Poor fool! He did not know that it would have been better for him to have run up against a steam engine than that son of Neptune, with his sledgehammer fist.
I heard an awful impact, saw the fellow go whirling back into the darkness whence he had so eagerly sprung, and, when passing the scene of the encounter, doleful groans told me that chap would trouble us no more.
About this time another thing occurred to give me anxiety.
Hildegarde had tripped along in a fashion to arouse my secret admiration, for it had never occurred to me in the past that she had the making of a heroine in her. I had considered her simply a little domestic despot, who would rule the family roost or at once abdicate.
But the chase was beginning to tell upon the little woman; excitement had lent her wings, as it were, up to now; but even this goad began to fail in spurring her on.