"Where do you come from, Francis?" he asked. "What is your nationality?"
"Why, I’m a Cosmopolitan," said I, half smiling, as one is prone to do when a man asks him some trivial matter with a voice as serious as though he spoke of strange things.
"Yes; we all are," said Apache Kid, putting aside my lightness. "But is n’t it Edinburgh you come from?"
He mused again at my reply, plucking his finger-knuckles, and then turned an eye to Donoghue, who was already surveying him under his watchful brows.
"Tell him what?" said Donoghue, looking uncomfortable, I thought, as though this mood of his partner’s was one he did not relish.
"Tell him what we are—how we live—all that?"
From Apache to me and back again Donoghue glanced, and then: "Oh! tell, if you like," said he. "There won’t no harm come from telling him. He’s safe. He ’s all right, is Francis."
"Well," said Apache Kid, finally, ending his reverie. "The fact is that we—Donoghue and I—except upon occasion, when we want to make some sort of a character for ourselves, to show a visible means of support,—the fact is, we are——"
"Spit it out," said Donoghue. "Spit it out. It ain’t everybody has the courage to be."
"The fact is," said Apache Kid, "we are what they call in this country road-agents—make our living by holding up stage-coaches and——"
"By gum! we ’ve held up more nor stage-coaches," cried Donoghue, and began fumbling in an inner pocket with eager fingers.
"And banks," said Apache Kid, gazing on me to see the effect of this disclosure.
Donoghue stretched across to me, his loose face gleaming with a kind of joy.
"Read that," he said. "Read what that says;" and he handed me a long newspaper cutting.
"Daring Hold-Up of the Transcontinental. The Two-some Gang again at Work."
"That’s us," said Donoghue, gloating. "It reads pretty good, but Apache here says there ain’t no sense in the headin’ about the two-some gang—says them journalist boys is no good. Seems to me a right slick notice—that’s us, anyway."
"Well! what do you think?" he said, fixing me with his eye.
Donoghue threw back his head and laughed.
"It’s not the right sort of way to live?" said Apache Kid, questioningly. "You know I can make out a fine case in its defence."
"Yes," I replied. "I have no doubt you could, and that’s just what makes me all the more sorry to think of your doing this. Still, I feel that you having told me prevents me stating an opinion."