Спрут: Калифорнийская история
Chapter VI
Bydegrees,however,heascertainedthathislastshotbutonehadstruckDelaney’spistolhand,shatteringitandknockingtherevolverfromhisgrip.Hewasoverwhelmedwithastonishment.Why,aftertheshootingbeganhehadnotsomuchasseenDelaneywithanydegreeofplainness.Thewholeaffairwasawhirl.
“Well,wheredidYOUlearntoshootTHATway?”someoneinthecrowddemanded.Annixtermovedhisshoulderswithagestureofvastunconcern.
“Oh,”heobservedcarelessly,“it’snotmySHOOTINGthateverworriedME,m’son.”
Thecrowdgapedwithdelight.Therewasagreatwaggingofheads.
“Well,Iguessnot.”
“No,sir,notmuch.”
“Ah,no,youbetnot.”
Whenthewomenpressedaroundhim,shakinghishands,declaringthathehadsavedtheirdaughters’lives,Annixterassumedaposeofsuperbdeprecation,themodestself-obliterationofthechevalier.Hedeliveredhimselfofarememberedphrase,veryelegant,refined.ItwasLancelotafterthetournament,Bayardreceivingfelicitationsafterthebattle.
“Oh,don’tsayanythingaboutit,”hemurmured.“Ionlydidwhatanymanwouldhavedoneinmyplace.”
Torestorecompletelytheequanimityofthecompany,heannouncedsupper.Thishehadcalculatedasatremendoussurprise.Itwastohavebeenservedatmid-night,buttheirruptionofDelaneyhaddislocatedtheorderofevents,andthetableswerebroughtinanhouraheadoftime.
