"’Now, don’t get excited, Chief,’said Thorn, and I saw the little rat was in on the game.’We’re going to take you for a ride to a place where you can have a nice little rest. I’ll go and pack a few things for you. Here, Jerry—you watch him.’And he handed Delaney the gun.
"There we stood, Delaney and I, and I saw that Jerry was nervous—the game was a little rich for his blood. Thorn was busy in my room. I began to call for help at the top of my voice—why? Who would come? I didn’t know, but a friend might hear—Louie might have got home—some one might be passing in the road. Delaney told me to shut up. His hand trembled like a leaf. In the patio outside I heard an answering voice—but it was only Tony, the parrot. I knew well enough what was afoot, and I decided to take a chance. I started for Delaney; he fired and missed. He fired again, and I felt a sort of sting in my shoulder, and fell.
"I must have been unconscious for a second, but when I came to, Thorn was in the room, and I heard Delaney say he’d killed me. In a minute, of course, they discovered I was alive, and my good friend Jerry was all for finishing the job. But Thorn wouldn’t let him—he insisted on going through with the original plan. He saved my life—I’ll have to admit it—the contemptible little traitor. Cowardice, I imagine, but he saved me. Well, they put me in a car, and drove me up to the jail at Petticoat Mine. In the morning they left—all except the professor, who had joined our happy party. He stayed behind, dressed my wound, fed me after a fashion. On Sunday afternoon he went away and came back late at night with Shaky Phil. Monday morning the professor left, and Shaky Phil was my jailer after that. Not so kind as his brother.
