The U. P. Trail, page 13
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Allie Lee possessed a mind at once active and contemplative. While shedreamed of Neale and their future she busied herself with many tasks,and a whole year flew by without a lagging or melancholy hour.
Neale, she believed, had been detained or sent back to Omaha, or givenmore important work than formerly. She divined Slingerland's doubt, butshe would not give it room in her consciousness. Her heart told her thatall was well with Neale, and that sooner or later he would return toher.
In Allie love had worked magic. It had freed her from a horrible blackmemory. She had been alone; she had wanted to die so as to forget thoseawful yells and screams--the murder--the blood--the terror and theanguish; she had nothing to want to live for; she had almost hated thosetwo kind men who tried so hard to make her forget. Then suddenly, shenever quite remembered when, she had seen Neale with different eyes. Afew words, a touch, a gift, and a pledge--and life had been transformedfor Allie Lee. Like a flower blooming overnight, her heart had openedto love, and all the distemper in her blood and all the blackness in hermind were dispelled. The relief from pain and dread was so great thatlove became a beautiful and all-absorbing passion. Freed then, andstrangely happy, she took to the life around her as naturally as if shehad been born there, and she grew like a wild flower. Neale returned toher that autumn to make perfect the realization of her dreams. When hewent away she could still be happy. She owed it to him to be perfect injoy, faith, love, and duty; and her adversity had discovered to her aninward courage and an indomitable will. She lived for Neale.
Summer, autumn, winter passed, short days full of solitude, beauty,thought, and anticipation, and always achievement, for she could notstay idle. When the first green brightened the cottonwoods and willowsalong the brook she knew that before their leaves had attained theirfull growth Neale would be on his way to her. A strange and inexplicablesense of the heart told her that he was coming.
More than once that spring had she bent over the mossy rock to peer downat her face mirrored in the crystal spring. Neale had made her awareof her beauty, and she was proud of it, since it seemed to be such astrange treasure to him.
On the May morning that Slingerland left her alone she was startledby the clip-clop of horses trotting up the trail a few hours after hisdeparture.
Her first thought was that Neale and Larry had returned. All her beingsuddenly radiated with rapture. She flew to the door.
Four horsemen rode into the clearing, but Neale was not among them.
Allie's joy was short-lived, and the reaction to disappointment was aviolent, agonizing wrench. She lost all control of her muscles for amoment, and had to lean against the cabin to keep from falling.
By this time the foremost rider had pulled in his horse near the door.He was a young giant with hulking shoulders, ruddy-faced, bold-eyed,ugly-mouthed. He reminded Allie of some one she had seen in California.He stared hard at her.
"Hullo! Ain't you Durade's girl?" he asked, in gruff astonishment.
Then Allie knew she had seen him out in the gold-fields.
"No, I'm not," she replied.
"A-huh! You look uncommon like her.... Anybody home round here?"
"Slingerland went over the hill," said Allie. "He'll be back presently."
The fellow brushed her aside and went into the cabin. Then the otherthree riders arrived.
"Mornin', miss," said one, a grizzled veteran, who might have beenminer, trapper, or bandit. The other two reined in behind him. One worea wide-brimmed black sombrero from under which a dark, sinister facegleamed. The last man had sandy hair and light roving eyes.
"Whar's Fresno?" he asked.
"I'm inside," replied the man called Fresno, and he appeared at thedoor. He stretched out a long arm and grasped Allie before she couldavoid him. When she began to struggle the huge hand closed on her wristuntil she could have screamed with pain.
"Hold on, girl! It won't do you no good to jerk, an' if you holler I'llchoke you," he said. "Fellers, get inside the cabin an' rustle aroundlively."
With one pull he hauled Allie toward his horse, and, taking a lasso offhis saddle, he roped her arms to her sides and tied her to the nearesttree.
"Keep mum now or it 'll be the wuss fer you," he ordered; then he wentinto the cabin.
They were a bad lot, and Slingerland's reason for worry had at last beenjustified. Allie did not fully realize her predicament until she foundherself bound to the tree. Then she was furious, and strained with allher might to slip free of the rope. But the efforts were useless; sheonly succeeded in bruising her arms for nothing. When she desisted shewas ready to succumb to despair, until a flashing thought of Neale, ofthe agony that must be his if he lost her or if harm befell her, drewher up sharply, thrillingly. A girl's natural and instinctive fear wasvanquished by her love.
She heard the robbers knocking things about in the cabin. They threwbales of beaver pelts out of the door. Presently Fresno reappearedcarrying a buckskin sack in which Slingerland kept his money and fewvaluables, and the others followed, quarreling over a cane-covereddemijohn in which there had once been liquor.
"Nary a drop!" growled the one who got possession of it. And with ragehe threw the thing back into the cabin, where it crashed into the fire.
"Sandy, you've scattered the fire," protested the grizzled robber, as heglanced into the cabin. "Them furs is catchin'."
"Let 'em burn!" called Fresno. "We got all we want. Come on."
"But what's the sense burnin' the feller's cabin down?"
"Nuthin' 'll burn," said the dark-faced man, "an' if it does it 'll looklike Indians' work. Savvy, Old Miles?"
They shuffled out together. Evidently Fresno was the leader, or atleast the strongest force. He looked at the sack in his hand and then atAllie.
"You fellers fight over thet," he said, and, throwing the sack on theground, he strode toward Allie.
The three men all made a rush for the sack and Sandy got it. The othertwo pressed round him, not threateningly, but aggressively, sure oftheir rights.
"I'll divide," said Sandy, as he mounted his horse. "Wait till we makecamp. You fellers pack the beavers."
Fresno untied Allie from the tree, but he left the lasso round her;holding to it and her arm, he rudely dragged her to his horse.
"Git up, an' hurry," he ordered.
Allie mounted. The stirrups were too long.
"You fellers clear out," called Fresno, "an ketch me one of them hosseswe seen along the brook."
While he readjusted the stirrups, Allie looked down upon him. He wasan uncouth ruffian, and his touch gave her an insupportable disgust.He wore no weapons, but his saddle holster contained a revolver and thesheath a Winchester. Allie could have shot him and made a run for it,and she had the nerve to attempt it. The others, however, did not getout of sight before Fresno had the stirrups adjusted. He strode afterthem, leading the horse. Allie glanced back to see a thin stream ofsmoke coming out of the cabin door. Then she faced about, desperatelyresolved to take any chance to get away. She decided that she would notbe safe among these men for very long. Whatever she was to do she mustdo that day, and she only awaited her opportunity.
At the ford Sandy caught one of Slingerland's horses--a mustang anda favorite of Allie's, and one she could ride. He was as swift as thewind. Once upon him, she could run away from any horse which theserobbers rode. Fresno put the end of the lasso round the mustang's neck.
"Can you ride bareback?" he asked Allie.
Allie lied. Her first thought was to lead them astray as to her skillwith a horse; and then it occurred to her that if she rode Fresno'ssaddle there might be an opportunity to use the gun.
Fresno leaped astride the mustang, and was promptly bucked off. Theother men guffawed. Fresno swore and, picking himself up, tried again.This time the mustang behaved better, but it was plain he did not likethe weight. Then Fresno started off, leading his own horse, and at atrot that showed he wanted to cover ground.
Allie heard the others quarreling over something, probably the goldSlingerland had been so many years in accumulating.
They rode on to where the valley opened into another, along which woundthe old St. Vrain and Laramie Trail. They kept to this, traveling eastfor a few miles, and then entered an intersecting valley, where somedistance up they had a camp. They had not taken the precaution to hideeither packs or mules, and so far as Allie could tell they had nofear of Indians. Probably they had crossed from California, and, beingdishonest and avoiding caravans and camps, they had not become fullyacquainted with the perils of that region.
It was about noon when they arrived at this place. The sun was becomingblurred and a storm appeared brewing. Fresno dismounted, dropping thehalter of the mustang. Then he let go his own bridle. The eyes he benton Allie made her turn hers away as from something that could scorchand stain. He pulled her off the saddle, rudely, with coarse and meaningviolence.
Allie pushed him back and faced him. In a way she had been shelteredall her life, yet she had lived among such men as this man, and she knewthat resistance or pleadings were useless; they would only inflame him.She was not ready yet to court death.
"Wait," she said.
"A-huh!" he grunted, breathing heavily. He was an animal, slow-wittedand brutal.
"Fresno, I am Durade's girl!" she went on.
"I thought I knowed you. But you're grown to be a woman an' a dam'pretty one."
Allie drew him aside, farther from the others, who had renewed a loudaltercation. "Fresno, it's gold you want," she affirmed, rather thanasked.
"Sure. But no small stake like thet'd be my choice ag'in' you," heleered, jerking a thumb back at his companions.
"You remember Horn?" went on Allie.
"Horn! The miner who made thet big strike out near Sacramento?"
"Yes, that's who I mean," replied Allie, hurriedly. "We--we leftCalifornia in his caravan. He brought all his gold with him."
Fresno showed a growing interest.
"We were attacked by Sioux.... Horn buried all that gold--on the spot.All--all the others were killed--except me.... And I know where--" Allieshuddered with what the words brought up. But no memory could weakenher.
Fresno opened his large mouth to bawl this unexpected news to hiscomrades.
"Don't call them--don't tell them," Allie whispered. "There's only onecondition. I'll take you where that gold's hidden."
"Girl, I can make you tell," he replied, menacingly.
"No, you can't."
"You ain't so smart you think I'll let you go--jest for some gold?" hequeried. "Gold'll be cheap along this trail soon. An' girls like you arescarce."
"No, that's not what I meant.... Get rid of the others--and I'll takeyou where Horn buried his gold."
Fresno stared at her. He grinned. The idea evidently surprised andflattered him; yet it was perplexing.
"But Frank--he's my pard--thet one with the black hat," he protested. "Icouldn't do no dirt to Frank.... What's your game, girl? I'll beat youinto tellin' me where thet gold is."
"Beating won't make me tell," replied Allie, with intensity. "Nothingwill--if I don't want to. My game is for my life. You know I've nochance among four men like you."
"Aw, I don't know about thet," he blustered. "I can take care of you....But, say, if you'd stand fer Frank, mebbe I'll take you up.... Girl, areyou lyin' about thet gold?"
"No."
"Why didn't the trapper dig it up? You must hev told him."
"Because he was afraid to keep it in or near his cabin. We meant toleave it until we were ready to get out of the country."
That appeared plausible to Fresno and he grew more thoughtful.
Meanwhile the altercation among the other three ruffians assumedproportions that augured a fight.
"I'll divide this sack when I git good an' ready," declared Sandy.
"But, pard, thet's no square deal," protested Old Miles. "I'm a-gittin'mad. I seen you meant to keep it all."
The dark-faced ruffian shoved a menacing fist under Sandy's nose. "Whendo I git mine?" he demanded.
Fresno wheeled and called, "Frank, you come here!"
The other approached sullenly. "Fresno, thet Sandy is whole hog ornone!" he exclaimed.
"Let 'em fight it out," replied Fresno. "We've got a bigger game....Besides, they'll shoot each other up. Then we'll hev it all. Come, give'em elbow room."
He led Allie and his horse away a little distance.
"Fetch them packs, Frank," he called. The mustang followed, andpresently Frank came with one of the packs. Fresno slipped the saddlefrom his horse, and, laying it under a tree, he pulled gun and riflefrom their sheaths. The gun he stuck in his belt; the rifle he leanedagainst a branch.
"Sandy'll plug Old Miles in jest another minnit," remarked Fresno.
"What's this other game?" queried Frank, curiously.
"It's gold, Frank--gold," replied Fresno; and in few words he toldhis comrade about Horn's buried treasure. But he did not mention thecondition under which the girl would reveal its hiding-place. Evidentlyhe had no doubt that he could force her to tell.
"Let's rustle," cried Frank, his dark face gleaming. "We want to git outof this country quick."
"You bet! An' I wonder when we'll be fetchin' up with them railroadcamps we heerd about... Camps full of gold an' whisky an' wimmen!"
"We've enough on our hands now," replied Frank. "Let's rustle ferthet--"
A gun-shot interrupted him. Then a hoarse curse rang out--and then twomore reports from a different gun.
"Them last was Sandy's," observed Fresno, coolly. "An' of course theylanded... Go see if Old Miles hit Sandy."
Frank strode off under the trees.
Allie had steeled herself to anything, and those shots warned her thatnow she had two less enemies to contend with, and that she must be quickto seize the first opportunity to act. She could leap upon the mustang,and if she was lucky she could get away. She could jump for theWinchester and surely shoot one of these villains, perhaps both of them.But the spirit that gave her the nerve to attempt either plan bade herwait, not too long, but longer, in the hope of a more favorable moment.
Frank returned to Fresno, and he carried the sack of gold that hadcaused dissension. Fresno laughed.
"Sandy's plugged hard--low down," said Frank. "He can't live. An' OldMiles is croaked."
"A-huh! Frank, I'll go git the other packs. An' you see what's in thissack," said Fresno.
When he got out of sight, Allie slipped the lasso from her waist.
"I don't need that hanging to me," she said.
"Sure you don't, sweetheart," replied the ruffian Frank. "Thet manFresno is rough with ladies. Now I'm gentle.... Come an' let me spillthis sack in your lap."
"I guess not," replied Allie.
"Wal, you're sure a cat... Look at her eyes!... All right, don't git madat me."
He spilled the contents of the sack out on the sand, and bent over it.
What had made Allie's eyes flash was the recognition of her opportunity.She did not hesitate an instant. First she looked to see just where themustang stood. He was near, with the rope dragging, half coiled. Alliesuddenly noticed the head and ears of the mustang. He heard something.She looked up the valley slope and saw a file of Indians riding down,silhouetted against the sky. They were coming fast. For aninstant Allie's senses reeled. Then she rallied. Her situation wasdesperate--almost hopeless. But here was the issue of life or death, andshe met it.
In one bound she had the rifle. Long before, she had ascertained that itwas loaded. The man Frank heard the click of the raising hammer.
"What're you doin'?" he demanded, fiercely.
"Don't get up!" warned Allie. She stepped backward nearer the mustang."Look up the slope!... Indians!"
But he paid no heed. He jumped up and strode toward her.
"Look, man!" cried Allie, piercingly. He came on. Then Fresno appeared,running, white of face.
Allie, without leveling the rifle, fired at Frank, even as his clutchinghands struck the weapon.
He halted, with sudden gasp, sank to his knees, fell against the tree,and then staggered up again.
Allie had to drop the rifle to hold the frightened mustang. She mountedhim, urged him away, and hauled in the dragging lasso. Once clear ofbrush and stones, he began to run. Allie saw a clear field ahead, butthere were steep rocky slopes boxing the valley. She would be hemmed in.She got the mustang turned, and ran among the trees, keeping far over tothe left. She heard beating hoofs off to the right, crashings in brush,and then yells. An opening showed the slope alive with Indians ridinghard. Some were heading down, and others up the valley to cut off herescape; the majority were coming straight for the clumps of trees.
Fresno burst out of cover mounted on Sandy's bay horse. He began toshoot. And the Indians fired in reply. All along the slopes rose whitepuffs of smoke, and bullets clipped dust from the ground in front ofAllie. Fresno drew ahead. The bay horse was swift. Allie pulled hermustang more to the left, hoping to get over the ridge, which on thatside was not high. To her dismay, Indians appeared there, too. Shewheeled back to the first course and saw that she must attempt whatFresno was trying.
Then the robber Frank appeared, riding out of the cedars. The Indianriders closed rapidly in on him, shooting all the time. His horsewas hit, and stumbling, it almost threw the rider. Then the horse ranwildly--could not be controlled. One Indian was speeding from among theothers. He had a bow bent double, and suddenly it straightened. Alliesaw dust fly from Frank's back. He threw up his arms and slid offunder the horse, the saddle slipping with him. The horse, wounded andterrorized, began to plunge, dragging man and saddle.
Ahead, far to the right, Fresno was gaining on his pursuers. He wasout of range now, but the Indians kept shooting. Then Allie's situationbecame so perilous that she saw only the Indians to the left, with theirmustangs stretched out so as to intercept her before she got out intothe wider valley.
Her mustang did not need to be goaded. The yells behind and on allsides, and the whistling bullets, drove him to his utmost. Allie had allshe could do to ride him. She was nearly blinded by the stinging wind,yet she saw those lithe, half-naked savages dropping gradually back andshe knew that she was gaining. Her hair became loose and streamed in thewind. She heard the yells then. No more rifles cracked. Her pursuers haddiscovered that she was a girl and were bent on her capture.
Fleet and strong the mustang ran, sure-footed, leaping the washes, andoutdistancing the pursuers on the left. Allie thought she could turninto the big valley and go down the main trail before the Indianschasing Fresno discovered her. But vain hope! Across the width of thevalley where it opened out, a string of Indians appeared, riding back tomeet her.
A long dust line, dotted with bobbing objects, to the right. Behind aclose-packed bunch of hard riders. In front an opening trap of yellingsavages. She was lost. And suddenly she remembered the fate of hermother. Her spirit sank, her strength fled. Everything blurred aroundher. She lost control of the mustang. She felt him turning, slowing, theyells burst hideously in her ears. Like her mother's--her fate. A roarof speedy hoof-beats seemed to envelop her, and her nostrils were filledwith dust. They were upon her. She prayed for a swift stroke--then forher soul. All darkened--her senses were failing. Neale's face glimmeredthere--in space--and again was lost. She was slipping--slipping--A rudeand powerful hold fastened upon her. Then all faded.
