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Updated: May 5, 2025
She recalled to mind all that was said, and supplied what she thought had been suggested. Brandt and Metzar were horse-thieves, aids of Bing Legget. They had repaired to the glade to plan. The Indian had been a surprise. Wetzel had routed the Shawnees, and was now on the trail of this chieftain. The Indian warned them to leave Fort Henry and to meet him at a place called Two Islands.
This time the savage whispered earnestly to Legget, who called the other Indians around him. The sentinel's low throaty tones mingled with the soft babbling of the stream. No sooner had he ceased speaking than the effect of his words showed how serious had been the information, warning or advice. The Indians cast furtive glances toward the woods.
On two, action of scenes was taking place while the energetic directors were endeavoring to get out of their people the pantomimic representation of the scenario each had in charge. One director suddenly clapped his hands and shouted. "Get this, John! All ready! You dude and cowboy start that scene now. Be sure you run on at the right cue, Miss Legget. Now, John! Ready boys?"
The savage Brandt indicated was a big Indian just coming into manhood. His swarthy face still retained some of the frankness and simplicity of youth. "Chief," said Legget in the Indian tongue. "The great paleface hunter, Deathwind, lies hid in the woods." "Last night the Shawnee heard the wind of death mourn through the trees," replied the chief gloomily. "See! What did I say?" cried Brandt.
"We know what to expect," said Brandt in calmer tone as the daring cast of countenance returned to him. "There's an Indian for you! He got away, doubled like an old fox on his trail, and ran in here to give us a chance at escape. Now you know why Bing Legget can't be caught." "Let's dig at once," replied Metzar, with no show of returning courage such as characterized his companion.
Dice, cards, anyways, so long as I knows the game." "Here, Jenks, hand over yer clickers, an' bring us a flat stone," said Legget, sitting on the moss and emptying the belt in front of him. Case took a small bag from the dark blue jacket that had so lately covered Mordaunt's shoulders, and poured out its bright contents. "This coat ain't worth keepin'," he said, holding it up.
The blade Legget still clutched was red, and the wrist of the hand which held it showed a dark, discolored band, where it had felt the relentless grasp of Wetzel's steel grip. The dead man's buckskin coat was cut into ribbons. On his broad face a demoniacal expression had set in eternal rigidity; the animal terror of death was frozen in his wide staring eyes.
Following it, the whip-like crack of a rifle stung and split the morning air. Hard on this came an Indian's long, wailing death-cry. "Hah!" exclaimed Brandt. Legget remained immovable. One of the savages peered out through a little port-hole at the rear of the hut. The others continued their meal. "Whistler'll come in presently to tell us who's doin' thet shootin'," said Legget.
The game progressed with infrequent runs of fortune for the outlaw, and presently every piece of gold lay in a shining heap before the sailor. "Clean busted!" exclaimed Legget in disgust. "Can't you find nothin' more?" asked Case. The outlaw's bold eyes wandered here and there until they rested upon the prisoner. "I'll play ther lass against yer pile of gold," he growled.
I believe you've lost your nerve, or the lettin' out of a little blood hes made you wobbly. We've Injuns here, an' ought to be a match fer two men." Brandt gazed at him with a derisive smile. "We kin go out an' fight these fellars," continued Legget. "We might try their own game, hidin' an' crawlin' through the woods." "We two would have to go it alone.
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