An Afternoon Miracle午后的奇迹

欧·亨利(O. Henry, 1862-1910)， 原名威廉·西德尼·波特(William Sydney Porter)，是美国最著名的短篇小说家之一，曾被评论界誉为曼哈顿桂冠散文作家和美国现代短篇小说之父。

At the United States end of an international river bridge, four armed rangers¹ sweltered in a little 'dobe hut, keeping a fairly faithful espionage³ upon the lagging trail of passengers from the Mexican side.

Bud Dawson, proprietor⁴ of the Top Notch⁵ Saloon, had, on the evening previous, violently ejected from his premises⁶ one Leandro Garcia, for alleged⁷ violation⁸ of the Top Notch code of behaviour. Garcia had mentioned twenty-four hours as a limit, by which time he would call and collect a painful indemnity⁹ for personal satisfaction.

This Mexican, although a tremendous braggart¹⁰, was thoroughly¹¹ courageous¹², and each side of the river respected him for one of these attributes. He and a following of similar bravoes were addicted¹³ to the pastime of retrieving¹⁴ towns from stagnation¹⁵.

The day designated by Garcia for retribution was to be further signalised on the American side by a cattlemen's convention, a bull fight, and an old settlers' barbecue and picnic. Knowing the avenger¹⁶ to be a man of his word, and believing it prudent¹⁷ to court peace while three such gently social relaxations¹⁸ were in progress, Captain McNulty, of the ranger² company stationed there, detailed¹⁹ his lieutenant²⁰ and three men for duty at the end of the bridge. Their instructions were to prevent the invasion of Garcia, either alone or attended by his gang.

Travel was slight that sultry afternoon, and the rangers swore gently, and mopped their brows in their convenient but close quarters. For an hour no one had crossed save an old woman enveloped²¹ in a brown wrapper and a black mantilla, driving before her a burro loaded with kindling²² wood tied in small bundles for peddling²³. Then three shots were fired down the street, the sound coming clear and snappy through the still air.

The four rangers quickened from sprawling²⁴, symbolic²⁵ figures of indolence to alert life, but only one rose to his feet. Three turned their eyes beseechingly²⁶ but hopelessly upon the fourth, who had gotten nimbly up and was buckling²⁷ his cartridge-belt around him. The three knew that Lieutenant Bob Buckley, in command, would allow no man of them the privilege of investigating a row when he himself might go.