With an oath he stopped, and was about to pick up the pistol which had fallen from his hands, but was arrested by the quick, decisive tones of Andy: 

“Let that pistol alone!  If you pick it up, I will shoot you on the spot.”

CHAPTER XIX BAFFLED A ROBBER

Fairfax paused at Andy’s threat.  He was only a boy, it is true, but he looked cool and resolute, and the gun, which was pointed at him, looked positively dangerous.  But was he to be thwarted in the very moment of his triumph, by a boy?  He could not endure it.

“Young man,” he said, “this is dangerous business for you.  If you don’t make yourself scarce, you won’t be likely to return at all.”

“I’ll take the risk,” said Andy, coolly.

“Confound him!  I thought he’d be frightened,” said Fairfax to himself.

“I don’t want to kill you,” he said, with a further attempt to intimidate Andy.

“I don’t mean to let you,” said our hero, quietly.

“You are no match for me.”

“With a gun I am.”

“I don’t believe it is loaded.”

“If you try to pick up that pistol, I’ll convince you; by the powers, I will,” said Andy, energetically.

“What is to prevent my taking away the gun from you?”

“Faith,” returned Andy, quaintly, “you’ll take the powder and ball first, I’m thinkin’.”

Fairfax thought so, too, and that was one reason why he concluded not to try it.

It was certainly a provoking position for him.

There lay the pistol on the ground, just at his feet; yet, if he tried to pick it up, the boy would put a bullet through him.  It was furthermore provoking to reflect that, had he not stopped to parley with Colonel Preston, he might have secured the money, which he so much desired, before Andy had come up.  There was one other resource.  He had tried bullying, and without success.  He would try cajoling and temptation.

“Look here, boy,” he said, “I am a desperate man.  I would as leave murder you as not.”

“Thank you,” said Andy.  “But I’d rather not have it done.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, as I said before, but you mustn’t interfere with me.”

“Then you mustn’t interfere with the colonel.”

“I must have the money in his pocketbook.”

“Must you?  Maybe, I’ll have something to say, to that.”

“He has eight hundred dollars with him.”

“Did he tell you?”

“No matter; I know.  If you won’t interfere with me, I’ll give you two hundred of it.”

“Thank you for nothing, then,” said Andy, independently.  “I’m only a poor Irish boy, but I ain’t a thafe, and never mane to be.”

“Bravo, Andy!” said Colonel Preston, who had awaited with a little anxiety the result of the offer.

Fairfax stooped suddenly, but before he could get hold of the pistol, Andy struck him on the head with the gun-barrel, causing him to roll over, while, in a quick and adroit movement, he himself got hold of the pistol before Fairfax had recovered from the crack on his head.