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"Lew, we must go eastward, over Bing Legget's way, to find the trail of the stolen horses." "Likely, an' it'll be a long, hard tramp." "Who's in Legget's gang now beside Old Horse, the Chippewa, an' his Shawnee pard, Wildfire? I don't know Bing; but I've seen some of his Injuns an' they remember me." "Never seen Legget but onct," replied Wetzel, "an' that time I shot half his face off.
Do you think this white thief had anything to do with carrying her away?" "No. Wetzel says that's Bing Legget's work. The Shawnees were members of his gang." "Well, Jack, what'll I do?" "Keep quiet an' wait," was the borderman's answer. Colonel Zane, old pioneer and frontiersman though he was, shuddered as he went to his room. His brother's dark look, and his deadly calmness, were significant.
Then, puffing at their long pipes they sat for a long time in silence, while twilight let fall a dark, gray cloak over river and plain. "Legget's move up the river was a blind, as I suspected," said Wetzel, presently. "He's not far back in the woods from here, an' seems to be waitin' fer somethin' or somebody. Brandt an' seven redskins are with him.
When the sun sloped low toward the western horizon, lengthening Jonathan's shadow, he slackened pace. He was entering the rocky, rugged country which marked the approach to the distant Alleghenies. From the top of a ridge he took his bearings, deciding that he was within a few miles of Legget's hiding-place. At the foot of this ridge, where a murmuring brook sped softly over its bed, he halted.
Did you get out all right with the lass?" "Nary a scratch." The giant borderman grunted his satisfaction. "How'd Legget and Brandt get away?" asked Jonathan. "Cut an' run like scared bucks. Never got a hand on either of 'em." "How many redskins did they meet back here a spell?" "They was seven; but now there are only six, an' all snug in Legget's place by this time."
Then Colonel Zane's tales of their fearless, implacable pursuit when bent on rescue or revenge, recurred to her, and fortitude returned. While she had life she would hope. The advent of the party with their prisoner enlivened Legget's gang.
He was correct, for the chief led him, with the three Shawnees following, toward the outlet of the enclosure. Jonathan's sharp eye took in every detail of Legget's rendezvous. In a corral near the entrance, he saw a number of fine horses, and among them his sister's pony. A more inaccessible, natural refuge than Legget's, could hardly have been found in that country.
At first glance their dark faces and dark eyes were expressive of craft, cunning, cruelty, courage, all attributes of the savage. Yet wild as these savages appeared, Helen did not fear them as she did the outlaws. Brandt's eyes, and Legget's, too, when turned on her, emitted a flame that seemed to scorch and shrivel her soul.
From the sitting-room came excited whispers, a joyous cry from Betty, and a faint voice. Then heavy, hurrying footsteps, followed by Sheppard's words of thanks-giving. "Where's Wetzel?" began Colonel Zane. The borderman shook his head gloomily. "Where did you leave him?" "We jumped Legget's bunch last night, when the moon was about an hour high. I reckon about fifteen miles northeast.
"Jenks, one of Bing Legget's border-hawks." "You have his name right. And who may Bing Legget be?" "He's an outlaw. Jenks has been tryin' to lead you into a trap. Likely he expected those Injuns to show up a day or two ago. Somethin' went wrong with the plan, I reckon. Mebbe he was waitin' for five Shawnees, an' mebbe he'll never see three of 'em again."
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