for what passed this morning. I regret what I
said. I was only half awake; and scarcely knew what I did. Will you
overlook it?"
"Talk is cheap," said Garth guardedly. "I will be guided by your actions
henceforth." But his voice was milder; for an apology could not help but
speak to his sense of generosity.
Mabyn, encouraged, amplified his penitent, ingratiating air. "As to the
future," he said, "I mean to show you. You'll soon be satisfied!" He
came closer. "In the meantime let's make a truce! Shake hands on it!"
Garth thoroughly distrusted the man; but he could see no harm to Natalie
in accepting his offer, while privately determining to relax none of his
vigilance. It was only too true, as Mabyn had said; neither could afford
to quarrel. Mabyn had no gun, and Garth could not leave Natalie's side
for an instant.
"I am willing," said Garth readily. "But it's understood this doesn't
affect what I said before. You are not to come within a hundred yards of
this camp!"
Mabyn shrugged, as at the unworthiness of Garth's suspicions.
"You agree to it?" Garth persisted.
"All right!" said Mabyn--a shade too readily. "Shake!"
Garth shifted his gun; and advanced to take Mabyn's hand. The man could
not keep an ugly little gleam from showing in his shifty gray eye; and
Garth stopped abruptly. Mabyn sneered. Garth, fired by one of the
imperious impulses of the blood of youth, strode forward and grasped the
extended hand defiantly.
He saw instantly his mistake. Mabyn's face was suddenly transfigured by
the deadly hatred he had long repressed. His right hand closed on
Garth's like a vice; and at the same time a knife slipped out of his
sleeve into the other hand. He jerked the surprised Garth halfway round;
and aimed a blow between his shoulders. Garth was oddly conscious of the
fresh marks of the whetstone on the blade of the knife. With the
incredible swiftness of our subconscious moves, he dropped his useless
gun; and twisting his body around, flung up his free hand, and warded
the descending blow. Seizing Mabyn's wrist, he flung himself forward to
bear the other back.
It was all very brief. Mabyn, braced to receive Garth's weight, held his
ground. Inspired with a febrile strength, he enjoyed a temporary
advantage. Unable to reach Garth's back, he thrust desperately at his
face, his neck--but only stabbed the air. They were locked together with
their arms crossed--surely as strange a posture as ever men fought i
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