It was near to a prayer, if indeed this were not a
prayer in truth. And glancing down to the head
on his lap, he shivered with superstitious wonder.
Alcatraz had unquestionably drawn a long and sighing
breath.
PARTNERS
The recovery was no miracle. The strangling coil
of rope which shut off the wind of Alcatraz had also
kept any water from passing into his lungs, and as
the air now began to come back and the reviving oxygen
reached his blood, his recovery was amazingly rapid.
Before Perris had ceased wondering at the first audible
breath the eyes of Alcatraz were lighted with flickering
intelligence; then a snort of terror showed that he
realized his nearness to the Great Enemy. His
very panic acted as a thrillingly powerful restorative.
By the time Perris got weakly to his feet, Alcatraz
was lunging up the river bank scattering gravel and
small rocks behind him.
And Perris made no attempt to throw the rope again.
He allowed it to lie limp and wet on the gravel, but
turning to watch that magnificent body, shining from
the river, he saw the lines of Hervey’s hunters
coming swinging across the plain, riding to the limit
of the speed of their horses.
This was the end, then. In ten minutes, or less,
they would be on him, and he without a gun in his
hands!
As though he saw the same approaching line of riders,
Alcatraz whirled on the edge of the sand, but he did
not turn to flee. Instead, he lifted his head
and turned his bright eyes on the Great Enemy, and
stood there trembling at their nearness! The heart
of Perris leaped. A great hope which he dared
not frame in thought rushed through his mind, and
he stepped slowly forward, his hand extended, his voice
caressing. The chestnut winced one step back,
and then waited, snorting. There he waited, trembling
with fear, chained by curiosity, and ready to leap
away in arrowy flight should the sun wink on the tell-tale
brightness of steel or the noosed rope dart whispering
through the air above him. But there was no such
sign of danger. The man came steadily on with
his right hand stretched out palm up in the age-old
token of amity, and as he approached he kept talking.
Strange power was in that voice to enter the ears
of the stallion and find a way to his heart of hearts.
The fierce and joyous battle-note which he had heard
on the day of the great fight was gone and in its place
was a fiber of piercing gentleness. It thrilled
Alcatraz as the touch of the man’s fingers had
thrilled him on another day.
Now he was very near, yet Perris did not hurry, did
not change the quiet of his words. By the nearness
his face was become the dominant thing. What
was there between the mountains so terrible and so
gentle, so full of awe, of wisdom, and of beauty,
as this human face? Behind the eyes the outlaw
horse saw the workings of that mystery which had haunted
his still evenings in the desert—the mind.
