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To Kill A Man
by
“Suppose I screamed?” she queried curiously. “Suppose I made an outcry for help? You couldn’t shoot me?… a woman?”
She noted the fleeting bafflement in his brown eyes. He answered slowly and thoughtfully, as if working out a difficult problem. “I reckon, then, I’d have to choke you and maul you some bad.”
“A woman?”
“I’d sure have to,” he answered, and she saw his mouth set grimly.
“You’re only a soft woman, but you see, Miss, I can’t afford to go to jail. No, Miss, I sure can’t. There’s a friend of mine waitin’ for me out West. He’s in a hole, and I’ve got to help him out.” The mouth shaped even more grimly. “I guess I could choke you without hurting you much to speak of.”
Her eyes took on a baby stare of innocent incredulity as she watched him.
“I never met a burglar before,” she assured him, “and I can’t begin to tell you how interested I am.”
“I’m not a burglar, Miss. Not a real one,” he hastened to add as she looked her amused unbelief. “It looks like it, me being here in your house. But it’s the first time I ever tackled such a job. I needed the money bad. Besides, I kind of look on it like collecting what’s coming to me.”
“I don’t understand,” she smiled encouragingly. “You came here to rob, and to rob is to take what is not yours.”
“Yes, and no, in this here particular case. But I reckon I’d better be going now.”
He started for the door of the dining-room, but she interposed, and a very beautiful obstacle she made of herself. His left hand went out as if to grip her, then hesitated. He was patently awed by her soft womanhood.
“There!” she cried triumphantly. “I knew you wouldn’t.”
The man was embarrassed.
“I ain’t never manhandled a woman yet,” he explained, “and it don’t come easy. But I sure will, if you set to screaming.”
“Won’t you stay a few minutes and talk?” she urged. “I’m so interested. I should like to hear you explain how burglary is collecting what is coming to you.”
He looked at her admiringly.
“I always thought women-folks were scairt of robbers,” he confessed. “But you don’t seem none.”
She laughed gaily.
“There are robbers and robbers, you know. I am not afraid of you, because I am confident you are not the sort of creature that would harm a woman. Come, talk with me a while. Nobody will disturb us. I am all alone. My–father caught the night train to New York. The servants are all asleep. I should like to give you something to eat–women always prepare midnight suppers for the burglars they catch, at least they do in the magazine stories. But I don’t know where to find the food. Perhaps you will have something to drink?”
He hesitated, and did not reply; but she could see the admiration for her growing in his eyes.
“You’re not afraid?” she queried. “I won’t poison you, I promise. I’ll drink with you to show you it is all right.”
“You sure are a surprise package of all right,” he declared, for the first time lowering the weapon and letting it hang at his side. “No one don’t need to tell me ever again that women-folks in cities is afraid. You ain’t much–just a little soft pretty thing. But you’ve sure got the spunk. And you’re trustful on top of it. There ain’t many women, or men either, who’d treat a man with a gun the way you’re treating me.”
She smiled her pleasure in the compliment, and her face, was very earnest as she said:
“That is because I like your appearance. You are too decent-looking a man to be a robber. You oughtn’t to do such things. If you are in bad luck you should go to work. Come, put away that nasty revolver and let us talk it over. The thing for you to do is to work.”