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He again recounted the events of the attack on the island at Glenn's, the death of his associates and the escape of their most formidable enemies. Then he described the nature and position of the mount whither he had led such captives as had fallen into their hands.
He said that the wolves preferred the timber, being enabled to make more comfortable lairs and dens among the fallen trees than out in the cold prairies. But their guns had wrought a fearful destruction among them. Perhaps three-fourths of them fell. The party soon reached Glenn's house.
Captain Jack motioned them to gather around. Frank, Jack and the others a moment later found themselves in the center of the ring of pirates. Captain Glenn's hands, in his pockets, grasped his revolvers firmly. The American sea captain was determined not to be caught off his guard. He was perfectly certain in his own mind that Captain Jack was bent on mischief.
"Have you seen Flo?" he asked. "I just left her. It was funny the way she rushed me off after you. As if there weren't two " Was it Glenn's eyes or the movement of his hand that checked her utterance? His gaze pierced her soul. His hand slid along her arm to her waist around it. Her heart seemed to burst. "Kick your feet out of the stirrups," he ordered. Instinctively she obeyed.
But Glenn's scruples vanished, and as a matter of necessity he determined to submit without reserve to the guidance of his experienced friend. "I should like to know how them yaller rascals got up here so close without being eyed sooner," said Sneak to Joe. "That's what's been puzzling me, ever since I first saw them," said Joe, in scarce audible tones.
As she stepped into the cabin her heart was not acting normally for a young woman who had no illusions about love in a cottage. Glenn's cabin contained one room about fifteen feet wide by twenty long. Between the peeled logs were lines of red mud, hard dried. There was a small window opposite the door.
They describe the principal theatre of the French and Indian Wars, and many of the most interesting localities of the American Revolution, including Glenn's Falls, Lake George, Ticonderoga and Champlain from Whitehall to St. John's, Montreal, Quebec, the St.
Long before this hour something about Glenn's work had quickened her pulse and given rise to an inexplicable admiration. That he was big and strong enough to do such labor made her proud; that he might want to go on doing it made her ponder and brood. The morning resembled one of the rare Eastern days in June, when the air appeared flooded by rich thick amber light.
He described the cataract of Glenn's; the impregnable position of its rocky island, with its caverns, and its numerous rapids and whirlpools; he named the name of La Longue Carabine, and paused until the forest beneath them had sent up the last echo of a loud and long yell, with which the hated appellation was received.
When Calico drew alongside the bay horse and brought Carley breast to breast with Glenn, and then inch by inch forged ahead of him, Carley pealed out an exultant cry. Either it frightened Calico or inspired him, for he shot right ahead of Glenn's horse. Then he lost the smooth, wonderful action. He seemed hurtling through space at the expense of tremendous muscular action. Carley could feel it.
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