A Waif of the Mountains - Edward Sylvester Ellis (best reads of all time .txt) 📗

for Vose Adams wholly to restrain all evidence of his pleasure. When in the depths of despair, he was awakened to the fact that the canine had performed one of the most brilliant exploits conceivable. He could not help smiling. The captain was in an ugly mood and in a threatening voice asked:

"Did you have anything to do with this?"

"Certainly; me and Timon fixed up the thing afore he left Dead Man's Gulch; it took us a good while; the dog didn't think it would work, but I stuck to it and finally he promised to have a try at it; certainly we fixed it up atween us."

The guide did a clever thing in thus turning the fantastic belief of the captain into ridicule. Had he protested, he might have added to the suspicion against himself. It was further in his favor that it was known he had never had much to do with Timon. As already related, the brute had few friends among the miners and Vose Adams never sought his acquaintance.

Nevertheless, it was impossible to brush out of sight one significant fact,--the long absence of Adams the day before. But for the last occurrence, nothing would have been thought of the former, but it was clear that Captain Dawson had begun to entertain doubts of the loyalty of his guide.

"He'll never repeat his trick anyway," exclaimed the officer, facing about and bringing his rifle to his shoulder. But his intention of shooting Timon was frustrated, for the brute was nowhere in sight. Unreasonable as it might sound, it looked as if he suspected how things would turn out and took the occasion to place himself beyond danger from the indignant men.

"In the army we shoot spies and traitors," remarked the captain, so angered by his repeated disappointments that he could not govern his feelings. In giving expression to the remark, the officer made a serious mistake, which he saw the moment the words left his lips. He was suspicious of Vose Adams, but he should have concealed all evidence of it, until the proof appeared. When that took place, he would shoot the man with no more hesitation that he would have shot the dog. But he had now put Vose on his guard and the difficulty of detecting him was increased tenfold.

As if to obliterate the memory of his words, the captain said in the most matter of fact tone he could assume:

"The mistake we made has taken us from the right spot; they must have been near the rocks where Timon showed himself."

"No doubt," said the parson, "and were watching us."

"The one thing to do is to retrace our steps; perhaps the two may be fools enough," bitterly added the captain, "to wait for us, since that seems to be the only way by which we shall ever come up with them."

A single short bark startled them. The captain wheeled like a flash with his gun at his shoulder. But Timon was too cunning to show himself. It is not improbable that he meant the expression for a note of triumph over his inimitable exploit, while such a wonderful dog was too wise to run any risk of punishment from his indignant victims.

The hunter is sustained against fatigue by the excitement of the chase; and, despite the severe labor of following the canine guide, all four men stood it far better than the return to the spot where the pursuit began. Angered, chagrined and in desperate mood, even the grim leader was forced occasionally to stop and rest. Nearly two hours passed before they descried the familiar pile of rocks in their front.

"That's the spot," he said, "but what good can it do us? It's a wonder if they have not run off with our horses; it would be a fitting climax to this folly."

It was the secret wish of Adams, from the moment of discovering the cleverness of Timon, that this very thing should be done. If Lieutenant Russell took such a precaution, it could not fail to be effective. Returning to the main trail after his pursuers were out of the way, he would have an open path through the mountains to Sacramento. If the lameness of Nellie's pony continued, her saddle could be transferred to one of the other horses, and, leading or driving the remainder of the animals, the four men would soon find their task a hopeless one.

But the young officer was restrained from such action by a certain chivalry that governed all his actions. He could not consent to take so unfair an advantage of an enemy, even though the fate of one dearer than his own life was at stake. And yet it must be confessed that the lieutenant drew it very fine. His course did not win the respect of his enemies, who were inclined to attribute it to stupidity, rather than courtesy.

But no time was to be lost in deciding their line of action.

"I think we'd better make a hunt among them rocks," suggested Wade Ruggles.

The others studied them with as much interest as if it were the first time they had been seen. If the couple had taken refuge among the caverns and crevices of this immense pile of stone, they must have left their animals on the ground below where they could be readily discovered.

"We may as well have a look," remarked the captain; "what do you think, Vose?"

"I don't think anything; don't ask me any questions."

He never looked more angry. He had not forgotten the slur of the captain and had spirit enough to resent it. Dawson was too proud to apologize and he could not do so, when his suspicion of the fellow's loyalty was as strong as ever. On the contrary, having made his blunder, the officer drove the arrow home.

"I am sorry you didn't take that resolution in the first place; it would have been better for all of us, though not so good for those we are looking for."

The captain and Ruggles now turned to the right, while the other two took the opposite direction. They were thus enabled, after more hard work, practically to pass around the mass of rocks, returning to their starting point, without having discovered any traces of man, woman or their animals. On the journey, Adams and the parson exchanged few words, but it was different with the other couple.

"What do you think of his long absence yesterday?" asked the captain.

"It has a bad look,--worse than I thought when he come back."

"Why so?"

"I take it with the action of that dog. You didn't fail to notice that Timon took us along the exact route that Vose was leadin' us over and we found out that it was the wrong one."

"And you believe he purposely misled us?"

"It's almost sartin."

"Suppose it _was_ certain, Wade?"

"I'd shoot him quicker'n lightning."

"So would I."

"But you see we can't be sartin just yit; if Vose is in that kind of bus'ness, he'll give himself away purty soon."

"I agree with you and we'll watch him."

Thus was the momentous bargain made.

When the four came together once more, the parson remarked:

"It's my belief that after we were well out of the way, the two went down the gorge to the main trail and are now making haste to Sacramento."

The exact line of action that had been agreed upon! Vose Adams was firmly convinced that this was the very thing that had taken place and the utmost he could do was to prevent the horsemen from acting on that theory until the fugitives were given opportunity to pass beyond reach.

Except for the words of Captain Dawson, the guide would have striven to delay the pursuit, but he dared not attempt it after the warning. Ignoring the captain, he said to Felix Brush:

"It's more'n likely you're right, parson; that would have been the most nat'ral thing for them to do and it's no use of our standing here and talking, when every minute counts."

"We can quickly learn the truth; it isn't far to the gorge, where they must have left traces; leave the horses here, for we can soon return for them if it proves necessary."

Forgetting their fatigue, the four walked back over their own trail. The forenoon was well advanced, and, by this time, the fugitives were probably a good way off. Adams was relieved because of this action, for it promised more delay.

Reaching the beginning of the gorge, all began an examination of the ground, for the imprints of the horses' feet were plainly seen. To the amazement of every one, each hoof pointed upward, that is away from the canyon. There was no evidence that any quadruped had descended the slope. All had gone up. Vose Adams was in despair.

"They have let their only chance go by," he bitterly reflected; "it's too late now to save them!"


CHAPTER XXVI

AT BAY

Lieutenant Russell held a long consultation with Nellie Dawson, after the departure of Vose Adams. His first intention had been to press their flight with all possible vigor, and, as will be recalled, Adams carried away that belief with him.

"My view of matters has undergone a change," he said after a time to his companion, who looked up in his face for an explanation.

"Instead of waiting until we reach Sacramento for a meeting with your father, I believe it will be much better to have it as soon as possible."

"Why?" she asked, though curious to say, she had been wavering for some time in her belief.

"It will add to rather than lessen his anger, if he is obliged to follow us that far, and the fact that he is in a city instead of the mountains will not decrease his determination to do me injury."

"What about those who are with him?"

"Your father is the only one to be considered. My proposal is that we wait here till to-morrow morning until they come up; what is your opinion?"

"I believe you are right; let us do so; I don't think father will cast me off when I go to him."

The plan was carried out, though the young man felt more misgiving than his companion suspected. He remained on guard a part of the night, sharing the duty with Timon, whose almost human intelligence made him as reliable as a trained scout himself.

Straight to the spot came the pursuers soon after daylight, when the horses were saddled and bridled. Nellie was in a state of feverish expectancy. When she caught sight of her father, leading the others, she joyfully uttered his name and ran toward him with outstretched arms.

"Father, my own father, are you not glad to see your Nellie?"

Still holding his Winchester half-raised, he glanced sternly at her and replied:

"Come no nearer; you are no daughter of mine!"

She stopped as if shot, and with hands still outstretched stood motionless, with her eyes fixed yearningly upon him. She was like a marble statue, without the breath of life in her body. All were silent. Even Timon looked from one to another without moving. The whole thing was beyond his comprehension.

Then the dreadful truth seemed to force itself upon the consciousness of the girl, who staggered backward to the nearest boulder, upon which she sank and covered her face with her hands. She did not weep, for