United States or Malawi ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
She decided that she would not be safe among these men for very long. Whatever she was to do she must do that day, and she only awaited her opportunity. At the ford Sandy caught one of Slingerland's horses a mustang and a favorite of Allie's, and one she could ride. He was as swift as the wind. Once upon him, she could run away from any horse which these robbers rode.
Then the happy congratulations from General Lodge and his staff; the merry dinner given the couple, and its toasts warm with praise of the bride's beauty and the groom's luck and success; Neale's strange, rapt happiness and Allie's soul shining through her dark-blue eyes this hour was to become memorable for Slingerland's future dreams.
Neale rode to Slingerland's cabin twice during the ensuing fortnight, but did not note any improvement in Allie's condition or demeanor. The trapper, however, assured Neale that she was gradually gaining a little and taking some slight interest in things; he said that if Neale could only spend enough time there the girl might recover. This made Neale thoughtful.
She clung there, her body all held rigid, as if some extraordinary strength or inspiration or joy had suddenly inhibited weakness. "Wal, lass, hyar you're takin' it powerful hard an' I made sure " "Hush!" whispered Allie, raising her face. She kissed him. Then she sprang up like a bent sapling released. She met Slingerland's keen gaze saw him start then rise as if the better to meet a shock.
Shore if you hadn't made up to her I'd have.... An', Neale, if you say Pard, I'm yours till I'm daid!" "Pard!" replied Neale, as he met the outstretched hand. Slingerland's hard and wrinkled face softened. "Strange how we all cottoned to thet girl! No I reckon it ain't so strange. Wal, it's as it oughter be. You saved her. May you both be happy, son!" Neale slipped a ring from his little finger.
Neale rode on. Presently out of a lane in the dust he thought he saw Slingerland pass. He reined toward the side. Larry was riding furiously at him, and Slingerland's horse was stretched out, heading straight away. The trapper madly waved his arms. Neale spurred toward them. Something was amiss. Larry's face flashed in the sun. He whirled his horse to take Neale's course and then he pointed.
He could not breathe nor speak nor move. His eyes were fixed on the black remains of Slingerland's cabin. "Gawd Almighty!" gasped Larry, and he put out a shaking hand to clutch Neale. "The Injuns! I always feared this spite of Slingerland's talk."
More than one flickering camp-fire they avoided by a wide detour. Slingerland's valley showed all the signs of early summer. The familiar trail, however, bore no tracks of horses or man or beast. A heavy rain had fallen recently and it would have obliterated tracks. Neale's suspense sustained the added burden of dread. In the oppressive silence of the valley he read some nameless reason for fear.
"Only sometime I want to tell you all everything.... Do you remember the four ruffians who visited Slingerland's cabin one day when we were all there? Well, they came back one day, the first time Slingerland ever left me alone. They fired the cabin and carried me off. Then they fought among themselves. Two were killed. I made up my mind to get on a horse and run.
"I am going back West with you," she said, coolly. "Wal, I knowed you'd go." "Divide that gold. I'll leave half for my father." Slingerland's great hands began to pull at the pack. "Thar's a train soon. I calkilated to stay over a day. But the sooner the better.... Lass, will you run off or tell him?" "I'll tell him.
Word Of The Day