Argosy, Vol. 1 (December 9, 1882) — page 62: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE FETTERS OF IGNACIO. - 53 in the air. Josefo, though half stunned by the American’s blows, had picked himself up, and perceiving that his master had Crenshawe covered by a revolver, had thought to creep upon him from behind and overpower, or otherwise injure him. There was no necessity for Crenshawe to fight, al- though he swung his right arm down with fist clenched. Josefo had dodged aside the instant the American’s gesture began. He had no mind for meeting those hard fists a second time. ‘“ Let him alone, Josefo,” called the Don, his voice shaking as his hands did. , Crenshawe laughed scornfully, and turning squarely about knelt beside Tony. The lad lay on his side now, breathing heavily and looking upon the scene with staring eyes. . “Are you much hurt, my boy? ” asked Crenshawe. “They kill you,” Tony whispered in reply. “ Oh, I guess not.” As he spoke, Crenshawe noticed the blacks who had been working upon the rack. They stood in doubtful attitudes at a little distance, and he caught something unusual in the expression of their faces. There was no mistak- ing the hate that gleamed in the eyes they directed towards Josefo and the Don, and it seemed to the American as if there were hope dimly shadowed there as they perceived his own resoluteness in balking the iron law of the island. Those looks caused an idea to flash upon him then and there, but it was no time to act upon it. Josefo had cautiously approached the door of the hut where the Don now stood with his revolver half raised, and cried out: ‘Ask him, your excellency, ask him about those crumbs of rice cake in the prison house. How did they get there? Who put them there? He dare not deny that it was this young rascal.” “ Tony,” whispered Crenshawe, “ was it for that they were torturing you? ” “Yes,” returned the boy, in a fluttering voice. “ Josefo suspected when he saw that you did not grab food the minute he took off the chain. He hunt, he find crumbs. He find how they got there. Last night he go all through huts looking for somebody who have rice cakes and asking questions. I no tell.” Saying this, the boy shut his lips hard together and shook his head. “T guess I understand,” said Crenshawe, “ and now if you can walk, you get up and go to your own hut, or to mine, just as you like.” “They won’t let me. Don Ignacio shoot when I move. He kill me, if not kill you.” Crenshawe felt no fear for himself. He was not giving his mind time to act on that manner of influence. At the last analysis it might be that he was acting in a kind of desperation that dared death without a thought of its seri- ousness. At all events it was not any anxiety about himself that caused him to rise and address the Don, but rather fear for Tony. Meantime the Don and Josefo had been conversing in Spanish. What they said must be left unrecorded, for Crenshawe did not understand a word, but from Josefo’s expostulatory tone it was fairly evident that he was protest- eonmicboe CO