In the course of two or three hours--aided by Miss Winthrop's salts
and Mr. Hutchinson Port's travelling-flask of peculiar old Otard, which
together contributed calmness and strength, and being refreshed by a
little slumber--Grace was able to explain in an intelligible manner the
adventure that had befallen her.
"And no matter what dreadful crimes that horrible man may have
committed," she said, in conclusion. "I shall be most grateful to him to
my dying day. And I want you, Uncle Hutchinson, no matter how unpleasant
it may be to you to do so, to thank him from me for what he did. And,
oh! it was so funny to see that detestable little impudent man kicking
about that way in the air!" Which remembrance, at the same moment, of
both the terrifying and the ludicrous side of her recent experience, not
unnaturally sent Grace off into hysterics.
Mr. Hutchinson Port was quite ready to carry the message of thanks to
the desperado, and to add to it some very hearty thanks of his own. But
his good intentions could not be realized; the desperado no longer was
on the train.
"Yes, sah; I knows the gen'l'm yo' means, sah," responded the porter,
in answer to inquiries. "Pow'fl big gen'l'm yo' means, as got on this
mo'nin' to Vegas. Thet's th' one, sah! He'd some kind er trib-bilation
with th' little gen'l'm'--th' drummer gen'lm' as got on las' night to
Lamy--an' he brought him out, holdin' him like he was a kitten, to the
lobby, an' jus' set him down an' boxed his ears till he hollered! Yes,
sah, thet's th' one. He got off to Otero. An' th' little man he got off
to Trinidad, an' said he was agoin' up by the Denver to Pueblo. Yes,
sah; they's both got off, sah! Thank yo', sah! Get yo' a pillow, sah?"