Lady Barbara could not bring herself to desert the man who had thus bravely, however hopelessly, sought to defend her; and when the North Midians had disarmed and secured Smith they saw her standing where she had stood during the brief engagement.
"I couldn't run away and leave you," she explained to Smith, as the two were being escorted toward the village of the North Midians. "I thought they were going to kill you, and I couldn't help you—Oh, it was awful. I couldn't leave you then, could I?"
He looked at her for a moment. "No," he answered. "You couldn't."
18. A GUY AND A SKIRT
Danny "Gunner" Patrick was tired and disgusted. He had walked for several hours imagining that he was following a spoor, but he had seen nothing of his erstwhile companion. He was thirsty, and so cast frequent glances in the direction of the lake.
"Hell!" he muttered. "I ain't goin' to tail that guy no longer till I get me a drink. My mouth feels like I'd been eating cotton for a week."
He turned away from the cliffs and started down in the direction of the lake, the inviting waters of which sparkled alluringly in the afternoon sun; but the beauties of the scene were wasted upon the "Gunner," who saw only a means of quenching his thirst.
The way led through a field of scattered boulders fallen from the towering rim above. He had to pick his way carefully among the smaller ones, and his eyes were almost constantly upon the ground. Occasionally he was compelled to skirt some of the larger masses, many of which towered above his head obstructing his view ahead.
He was damning Africa in general and this section of it in particular as he rounded the corner of an unusually large fragment of rock, when suddenly he stopped and his eyes went wide.
"Geeze!" he exclaimed aloud. "A broad!"
Before him, and coming in his direction, was a golden haired girl attired in a single, scant piece of rough material. She saw him simultaneously and halted.
"Oh," exclaimed Jezebel with a happy smile. "Who art thou?" but as she spoke in the language of the land of Midian the "Gunner" failed to understand her.
"Geeze," he said. "I knew I must of come to Africa for something, and I guess you're it. Say kid, you're about all right. I'll tell the world you are all right."
"Thank you," said Jezebel in English. "I am so glad that you like me."
"Geeze," said Danny. "You talk United States, don't you? Where you from?"
"Midian," replied Jezebel.
"Ain't never heard of it. What you doin' here? Where're your people?"
"I am waiting for Lady Barbara," replied the girl, "and Smith," she added.
"Smith! What Smith?" he demanded.
"Oh, he is beautiful," confided Jezebel.
"Then he ain't the Smith I'm lookin' for," said the "Gunner." "What's he doin' here, and who's this Lady Barbara dame?"
"Abraham, the son of Abraham, would have killed Lady Barbara and Jezebel if Smith had not come and saved us. He is very brave."
"Now I know it ain't my Smith," said Danny, "though I ain't sayin' he ain't got guts. What I mean is he wouldn't know how to save no one— he's a geologist."
"Who are you?" demanded Jezebel.
"Call me Danny, Kid."
"My name is not kid," she explained sweetly. "It is Jezebel."
"Jezebel! Geeze, what a monicker! You look like it ought to be Gwendolyn."
"It is Jezebel," she assured him. "Do you know who I hoped you'd be?"
"No. Now just tell me, kid, who you supposed I was. Probably President Hoover or Big Bill Thompson, eh?"
"I do not know them," said Jezebel. "I hoped that you were the 'Gunner.'"
"The 'Gunner'? What do you know about the 'Gunner,' kid?"
"My name is not kid, it is Jezebel," she corrected him, sweetly.
"Oke, Jez," conceded Danny, "but tell me who wised you up to the 'Gunner' bozo."
"My name is not Jez, it is—"
"Oh, sure kid, it's Jezebel—that's oke by me; but how about the 'Gunner'?"
"What about him?"
"I just been a-askin' you."
"But I don't understand your language," explained Jezebel. "It sounds like English, but it is not the English Lady Barbara taught me."
"It ain't English," Danny assured her, seriously; "it's United States."
"It is quite like English though, isn't it?"
"Sure," said the "Gunner." "The only difference is we can understand English but the English don't never seem to understand all of ours. I guess they're dumb."
"Oh, no; they're not dumb," Jezebel assured him. "Lady Barbara is English, and she can talk quite as well as you."
Danny scratched his head. "I didn't say they was dummies. I said they was dumb. Dummies can't talk only with their mitts. If a guy's dumb, he don't know nothing."
"Oh," said Jezebel.
"But what I asked you is, who wised you up to this 'Gunner' bozo?"
"Can you say it in English, please," asked Jezebel. "Geeze, what could be plainer? I asked who told you about the 'Gunner' and what did they tell you?" Danny was waxing impatient.
"Smith told us. He said the 'Gunner' was a friend of his; and when I saw you I thought you must be Smith's friend, hunting for him."
"Now, what do you know about that!" exclaimed Danny. "I have just told you what I know about it," explained the girl; "but perhaps you did not understand me. Perhaps you are what you call dumb."
"Are you trying to kid me, kid?" demanded the "Gunner."
"My name is not—"
"Oh, all right, all right. I know what your name is."
"Then why do you not call me by my name? Do you not like it?"
"Sure, kid—I mean Jezebel—sure I like it. It's a swell handle when you get used to it. But tell me, where is old Smithy?"
"I do not know such a person."
"But you just told me you did."
"Oh, I see," cried Jezebel. "Smithy is the United States for Smith. But Smith is not old. He's quite young."
"Well, where is he?" demanded Danny, resignedly.
"We were captured by the beautiful men from North Midian," explained Jezebel; "but we escaped and ran away. We ran in different directions, but we are going to meet tonight farther south along the cliffs."
"Beautiful men?" demanded the "Gunner." "Did old Smithy let a bunch of fairies hoist him?"
"I do not understand," said Jezebel.
"You wouldn't," he assured her; "but say, kid—"
"My name—"
"Aw, forget it—you know who I mean. As I was saying, let's me and you stick together till we find old Smithy. What say?"
"That would be nice, the 'Gunner," she assured him.
"Say, call me Danny, k—Jezebel."
"Yes, Danny."
"Geeze, I never knew Danny was such a swell monicker till I heard you say it. What say we beat it for the big drink down there? I got me such a thirst my tongue's hanging out. Then we can come back to this here rock pile and look for old Smithy."
"That will be nice," agreed Jezebel. "I, too, am thirsty." She sighed. "You can not know how happy I am, Danny."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because you are with me."
"Geeze, k—Jezebel, but you're sure a fast worker."
"I do not know what you mean," she replied, innocently. "Well just tell me why you're happy because I'm with you."
"It is because I feel safe with you after what Smith told us. He said he always felt safe when you were around."
"So that's it? All you want is a protection guy, eh? You don't like me for myself at all, eh?"
"Oh, of course I like you, Danny," cried the girl. "I think you are beautiful."
"Yeah? Well, listen, sister. You may be a swell kidder—I dunno —or you may be just a dumb egg—but don't call me no names. I know what my pan looks like; and it ain't beautiful, and I ain't never wore a beret."