"I don't s'pose you've killed anyone--or anything," he said, and his
voice seemed thick and distant to him. "Mice don't kill, do they? They
live on--cheese. But I have--I've killed. I killed a man. That's why I'm
here."
His dizziness almost overcame him, and he leaned heavily against the
table. Still the little mouse did not move. Still he could see it through
the strange gauze veil before his eyes.
"I killed--a man," he repeated, and now he was wondering why the mouse
did not say something at that remarkable confession. "I killed him, old
man, an' you'd have done the same if you'd been in my place. I didn't
mean to. I struck too hard. But I found 'im in my cabin, an' SHE was
fighting--fighting him until her face was scratched an' her clothes
torn,--God bless her dear heart!--fighting him to the last breath, an' I
come just in time! He didn't think I'd be back for a day--a black-hearted
devil we'd fed when he came to our door hungry. I killed him. And they've
hunted me ever since. They'll put a rope round my neck, an' choke me to
death if they catch me--because I came in time to save her! That's law!
"But they won't find me. I've been up here a year now, and in the spring
I'm going down there --where you come from--back to the Girl and the Kid.
The policemen won't be looking for me then. An' we're going to some other
part of the world, an' live happy. She's waitin' for me, she an' the kid,
an' they know I'm coming in the spring.
Pages:
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259