United States or Bhutan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Mention of Cordts had not always had power to frighten her, but this time she had a return of that shaking fear which had overcome her in the grove the night she was captured. "Cordts all right," replied Creech. "I knowed thet before I seen him. Fer two mornin's back I seen his hoss grazin in thet wide canyon. But I thought I'd slipped by. Some one seen us. Or they seen our trail.
The work was laborious, the remuneration small, and gauger was a name of contempt. But whilst waiting on in the hope of something 'turning up, he was still working busily for Johnson's Museum, and still trying to bring Creech to make a settlement.
Johnson's favorite history of the Turks, that of Otho by Pope's friend, the medical poet, Dr. Garth, that of Solon by Creech, the translator of Lucretius, that of Lysander by the Honorable Charles Boyle, whose name is preserved in the alcohol of Bentley's classical satire, and that of Themistocles by Edward, the son of Sir Thomas Browne.
She gathered all her force rolled over swiftly again got her hands on the gun just as Creech leaped like a panther upon her. His weight crushed her flat his strength made her hand-hold like that of a child. He threw the gun aside. Lucy lay face down, unable to move her body while he stood over her.
Creech gave close and keen scrutiny to the strange face of his son. Then he wheeled away. "Help me pack. An' you, too, Lucy. We've got to rustle out of hyar." Lucy fought a sick faintness that threatened to make her useless. But she tried to help, and presently action made her stronger. The Creeches made short work of that breaking of camp.
"No, Joel 'ain't said a word about the boat," replied Creech. "What about it?" "It was cut loose jest before the flood." Manifestly Brackton expected this to be staggering to Creech. But he did not even show surprise. "There's a rider here named Slone a wild-hoss wrangler," went on Brackton, "an' Joel swears this Slone cut the boat loose so's he'd have a better chance to win the race.
Creech paused a moment, darkly triumphant. A hideous success showed in his strange eyes. A long-cherished mad vengeance had reached its fruition. Then he led the horse near to Lucy. Warily he reached down. He did not know Lucy's strength was spent. He feared she might yet escape. With hard, quick grasp he caught her, lifted her, threw her over the King's back. He forced her down.
About the middle of the afternoon Creech led up over the last declivity, a yellow slope of cedar, to a flat upland covered with pine and high bleached grass. They rested. "We've fooled Cordts, you can be sure of thet," said Creech. "You're a game kid, an', by Gawd! if I had this job to do over I'd never tackle it again!" "Oh, you're sure we've lost him?" implored Lucy. "Sure as I am of death.
Then she told him how she had been dropping cedar berries and bits of cedar leaves along the bare and stony course they had traversed. "Wal, I'm " Creech stifled an oath. Then he laughed, but gruffly. "You air a cute one. But I reckon you didn't promise not to do thet.... An' now if Cordts gits you there'll be only yourself to blame." "Oh!" cried Lucy, frantically looking back.
But these two, so keen, so strong, so alive, did not abide long with sad memories. "Lucy, I want to ask you somethin'," said Bostil, presently. "What about this young Joel Creech?" Lucy started as if suddenly recalled, then she laughed merrily. "Dad, you old fox, did you see him ride out after me?" "No. I was just askin' on on general principles." "What do you mean?"
Word Of The Day