The Zane Grey Megapack. Zane GreyЧитать онлайн книгу.
as I have told Myeerah. She is scared half to death,” said Isaac, starting for the door.
“All right, only hurry,” said Col. Zane, grabbing his rifle. Without wasting more words, and lacing up his hunting shirt as he went he ran out of the room.
The first rays of dawn came streaking in at the window. The chill gray light brought no cheer with its herald of the birth of another day. For what might the morning sun disclose? It might shine on a long line of painted Indians. The fresh breeze from over the river might bring the long war whoop of the savage.
No wonder Noah and his brother, awakened by the voice of their father, sat up in their little bed and looked about with frightened eyes. No wonder Mrs. Zane’s face blanched. How many times she had seen her husband grasp his rifle and run out to meet danger!
“Bessie,” said Betty. “If it’s true I will not be able to bear it. It’s all my fault.”
“Nonsense! You heard Eb say Miller and Clarke had quarreled before. They hated each other before they ever saw you.”
A door banged, quick footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Isaac came rushing into the room. Betty, deathly pale, stood with her hands pressed to her bosom, and looked at Isaac with a question in her eyes that her tongue could not speak.
“Betty, Alfred’s badly hurt, but he’s alive. I can tell you no more now,” said Isaac. “Bessie, bring your needle, silk linen, liniment—everything you need for a bad knife wound, and come quickly.”
Betty’s haggard face changed as if some warm light had been reflected on it; her lips moved, and with a sob of thankfulness she fled to her room.
Two hours later, while Annie was serving breakfast to Betty and Myeerah, Col. Zane strode into the room.
“Well, one has to eat whatever happens,” he said, his clouded face brightening somewhat. “Betty, there’s been bad work, bad work. When I got to Clarke’s room I found him lying on the bed with a knife sticking in him. As it is we are doubtful about pulling him through.”
“May I see him?” whispered Betty, with pale lips.
“If the worst comes to the worst I’ll take you over. But it would do no good now and would surely unnerve you. He still has a fighting chance.”
“Did they fight, or was Mr. Clarke stabbed in his sleep?”
“Miller climbed into Clarke’s window and knifed him in the dark. As I came over I met Wetzel and told him I wanted him to trail Miller and find if there is any truth in his threat about Girty and the Indians. Sam just now found Tige tied fast in the fence corner back of the barn. That explains the mystery of Miller’s getting so near the house. You know he always took pains to make friends with Tige. The poor dog was helpless; his legs were tied and his jaws bound fast. Oh, Miller is as cunning as an Indian! He has had this all planned out, and he has had more than one arrow to his bow. But, if I mistake not he has shot his last one.”
“Miller must be safe from pursuit by this time,” said Betty.
“Safe for the present, yes,” answered Col. Zane, “but while Jonathan and Wetzel live I would not give a snap of my fingers for Miller’s chances. Hello, I hear someone talking. I sent for Jack and the Major.”
The Colonel threw open the door. Wetzel, Major McColloch, Jonathan and Silas Zane were approaching. They were all heavily armed. Wetzel was equipped for a long chase. Double leggins were laced round his legs. A buckskin knapsack was strapped to his shoulders.
“Major, I want you and Jonathan to watch the river,” said Col. Zane. “Silas, you are to go to the mouth of Yellow Creek and reconnoiter. We are in for a siege. It may be twenty-four hours and it may be ten days. In the meantime I will get the Fort in shape to meet the attack. Lewis, you have your orders. Have you anything to suggest?”
“I’ll take the dog,” answered Wetzel. “He’ll save time for me. I’ll stick to Miller’s trail and find Girty’s forces. I’ve believed all along that Miller was helpin’ Girty, and I’m thinkin’ that where Miller goes there I’ll find Girty and his redskins. If it’s night when I get back I’ll give the call of the hoot-owl three times, quick, so Jack and the Major will know I want to get back across the river.”
“All right, Lewis, we’ll be expecting you any time,” said Col. Zane.
“Betty, I’m goin’ now and I want to tell you somethin’,” said Wetzel, as Betty appeared. “Come as far as the end of the path with me.”
“I’m sorry you must go. But Tige seems delighted,” said Betty, walking beside Wetzel, while the dog ran on before.
“Betty, I wanted to tell you to stay close like to the house, fer this feller Miller has been layin’ traps fer you, and the Injuns is on the war-path. Don’t ride your pony, and stay home now.”
“Indeed, I shall never again do anything as foolish as I did yesterday. I have learned my lesson. And Oh! Lew, I am so grateful to you for saving me. When will you return to the Fort?”
“Mebbe never, Betty.”
“Oh, no. Don’t say that. I know all this Indian talk will blow over, as it always does, and you will come back and everything will be all right again.”
“I hope it’ll be as you say, Betty, but there’s no tellin’, there’s no tellin’.”
“You are going to see if the Indians are making preparations to besiege the Fort?”
“Yes, I am goin’ fer that. And if I happen to find Miller on my way I’ll give him Betty’s regards.”
Betty shivered at his covert meaning. Long ago in a moment of playfulness, Betty had scratched her name on the hunter’s rifle. Ever after that Wetzel called his fatal weapon by her name.
“If you were going simply to avenge I would not let you go. That wretch will get his just due some day, never fear for that.”
“Betty, ’taint likely he’ll get away from me, and if he does there’s Jonathan. This mornin’ when we trailed Miller down to the river bank Jonathan points across the river and says: ‘You or me,’ and I says: ‘Me,’ so it’s all settled.”
“Will Mr. Clarke live?” said Betty, in an altered tone, asking the question which was uppermost in her mind.
“I think so, I hope so. He’s a husky young chap and the cut wasn’t bad. He lost so much blood. That’s why he’s so weak. If he gets well he’ll have somethin’ to tell you.”
“Lew, what do you mean?” demanded Betty, quickly.
“Me and him had a long talk last night and—”
“You did not go to him and talk of me, did you?” said Betty, reproachfully.
They had now reached the end of the path. Wetzel stopped and dropped the butt of his rifle on the ground. Tige looked on and wagged his tail. Presently the hunter spoke.
“Yes, we talked about you.”
“Oh! Lewis. What did—could you have said?” faltered Betty.
“You think I hadn’t ought to speak to him of you?”
“I do not see why you should. Of course you are my good friend, but he—it is not like you to speak of me.”
“Fer once I don’t agree with you. I knew how it was with him so I told him. I knew how it was with you so I told him, and I know how it is with me, so I told him that too.”
“With you?” whispered Betty.
“Yes, with me. That kind of gives me a right, don’t it, considerin’ it’s all fer your happiness?”
“With you?” echoed Betty in a low tone. She was beginning to realize that she had not known this man. She looked up at him. His eyes were misty with an unutterable sadness.
“Oh,