CHAPTER VIITHE DISCOVERY“Hawk Murray!” exclaimed Elfreda Briggs, as one of the horsemen rode around the hedge and up to the door of the cabin. Elfreda recognized the man by his long hooked nose that really resembled the beak of a hawk. It was not a pleasant face to look upon.“Mornin’, Miss,” he greeted, with an attempt at politeness.“Good morning, sir,” replied Miss Briggs firmly, essaying a smile as she said it, though she did not feel like smiling, for the eyes of the rider seemed to be searching her very soul.“Do ye live here?” was the next question.“For the present, yes.”“Ye don’t reckon ye’ve seen a stranger on a bay mare passin’ here this mornin’, do ye?” he questioned, leaning over and peering into the face of the Overland girl.“No, sir. No one has passed here, so far as I know, since daylight. I don’t know who passed before that. Why do you ask?”“We’re a posse on the track of a hoss thief. The bay mare he rode was stole, and some gold he had was stole, too.”“Indeed!” observed Elfreda.“We trailed the thief this way, but back a piece we kind of lost the trail,” volunteered the Hawk, grinning apologetically. “Be ye alone?”“Oh, no. I am with a party. They are not here now, but I look for them to arrive shortly,” she answered, trying hard not to appear disturbed.“Well, so long. We’ll be on our way.” The man swung off his hat and, wheeling his horse about, jogged along. Her heart sank as she saw that the riders were taking a direction, which, if followed on, would lead perilously close to the spot at which she had secreted Sam Petersen’s horse. She regarded each man keenly as they passed her, and theirs she saw on close inspection were hard, callous, reckless faces. There was coldness, there was daring, in them.The last man in the line, younger than his companions, while his face was also cold, appeared to be of a character different from the others. There was a poise of the head, a grace in riding, and in the manner with which he bowed as he swung his hat low, that singled him out as a man somewhat above his fellows, in intelligence at least.The riders were out of sight in a moment, and, with their passing, Elfreda Briggs’ knees grew suddenly weak. She staggered into the cabin and sat down heavily.“Had they come in I don’t know what I should have done,” murmured the girl, placing a hand on the diary that she had hidden in her blouse. The bag of nuggets and “dust” lay in plain sight near the bunk on which Sam Petersen lay. Elfreda hurriedly sprang up and secreted the bag under the blankets. Then a sudden thought came to her. She recalled that the old prospector wore a holster, and that she had noticed the size of the revolver butt that protruded from it. Instant determination to possess herself of the weapon seized her.“They will return! I feel it!” she cried.It took but a moment to get the weapon and the cartridge belt, to both of which the girl gave critical inspection, for Elfreda had handled revolvers, both in France in wartime, and on their annual summer outings in the saddle. The weapon was loaded, and several rounds of cartridges still remained in the belt.“There!” she exclaimed, after strapping the holster on. “I at least have the means of defending myself. Hark!”Hoof-beats were plainly audible, but they seemed to be those of only one horse. A glance through the doorway, without revealing herself, verified this.“It’s the good-looking one,” breathed Elfreda, retiring into the shadows and giving her holster a shift. “I must go out. It never will do to let that man come into the cabin,” she decided as she stepped to the door with an expression of surprised inquiry in her eyes.“Ye didn’t think I’d be back so soon, did ye?” he grinned.“I don’t think I looked for you to return,” Elfreda replied. “What is it you wish?”“I reckoned as I’d like a drink of water.”“Wait. I will fetch a dipper. The spring is just beyond the stump over yonder.” Elfreda was out with a dipper in her hand in a moment, and held it up to him, but the rider did not take it. He swung from the saddle and stood leaning against his mount, regarding her with something like a twinkle in his eyes. Elfreda saw that twinkle and was reassured.“I see ye’ve got your hardware on,” he said, pointing to the revolver. “Purty sizable gun for a lady, eh? Ye didn’t have it on when I was here before.”“Perhaps I was expecting more company after you went off. Why do you ask?”The rider shrugged his shoulders.“Reckon I’ll take that dipper now,” he said, extending a hand for it. Elfreda gave it to him, and keen as his eyes were, it is doubtful if he discovered the fear that Elfreda felt. After stepping back she got a broom and began sweeping up the cabin floor, which she was still doing when the man returned from the spring. Hearing him coming, she stepped outside.“Thankee,” he said, returning the dipper.“What would ye say, lady, if I told ye I wanted to search the shack?” he asked.“I should sayno!” was the emphatic reply.“And what if I decided to do it anyhow?” grinned the mountain rider.“I’d shoot you!” she answered coldly.“Sufferin’ cats! I believe ye would. Never can tell what these quiet kind might do. Can I have a look at the little toy?” he teased.“You may look at the muzzle, if you wish.”The fellow laughed and slapped his thigh.“Ye’re a cool one, I’ll tell them all.”“Thank you.” Elfreda was covertly watching every movement of her caller, every expression of face and eyes, and she could not but feel that he was unusually confident about something. Rack her brain as she might, she could not think what that something might be, unless Hawk’s party had discovered the bay mare, which she did not believe was a fact, for the party had swerved off to the right after leaving the vicinity of the forest cabin.“If I reckerlect, lady, ye told the boss that ye hadn’t seen any strangers hereabouts—a fellow on a bay mare, an old party and a tough one.”“I told you no one had passed here, and to the latter part of your question I am free to say that your party included the only ‘tough ones’ I have seen since coming into the forest.”“So! I reckon I see the p’int. Lady, what about that saddle over there in the brush?”Elfreda could feel her face going pale.“The—the saddle!” she gasped, but instantly recovered herself. “What saddle do you mean?”“I mean Sam Petersen’s saddle. I’d know that leather among all the rest in the Cascade range. He stole that, too. Now where’s the bay mare? He sure didn’t ride her away without the saddle.”“Find him, if you want to know. Don’t ask me! As for the saddle that you say is over yonder in the brush, draw whatever conclusions you wish. Is that all? If so, I have work to do and will go to it,” announced J. Elfreda with great dignity.“I reckon that’s ’bout all, ’cept that I’d like to look over that shack.”“Very well, you may step up to the door and look in, but no farther if you value your life,” replied Elfreda, turning her back on him and stepping through the doorway.The visitor was not slow to accept the invitation. He reached the threshold, and was about to stride into the cabin when he suddenly found himself facing the old prospector’s revolver, held in the steady hand of Elfreda Briggs.“You may take a look at the revolver now if you like,” she offered. “Stay where you are!”A glint came into the man’s eyes, a glint of danger, but it faded and he laughed.“Very neat, Miss. I think I’ll take a look at that bunk over there, and that there hole in the floor with the trap door in it.”“Out! Instantly!” Elfreda’s voice rang out with a new note in it.The unwelcome guest’s hand sagged slowly towards his own holster.“Hands up! Quick!”The man obeyed, his eyes never leaving hers, nor did Elfreda’s eyes leave those of her caller. While he undoubtedly, with his long experience in quick work, could have dodged and drawn and fired ere Miss Briggs was able to prevent it, he did not do so. Perhaps he feared that she might hit his horse instead of himself, for that animal was directly in range with her weapon.“Mount! Leave this place instantly! If you attempt to interfere with me you will do so at your peril!” she warned.“Farewell, lady,” he answered mockingly. “I shall see ye just the same, and ye will answer my questions next time.” The fellow swung into his saddle, Miss Briggs still keeping her weapon trained on him as she followed him out.Then she saw the man suddenly stiffen in his saddle, and what followed came at such speed that she was dazed. The fellow’s revolver leaped, it seemed to her, from its holster and met his hand half way. There was a sudden report, and a faint puff of grayish smoke from the muzzle.A fraction of a second, after the report of his weapon, brought a shot from somewhere to the left of the Overland girl. The bandit’s horse jumped, and to Elfreda it was plain that the animal had been hit. It reared, and its rider toppled over and plunged backwards to the ground.The Bandit Was Using Elfreda as a Shield.“He’s killed!” cried Miss Briggs, dropping her own weapon and running to the prostrate bandit who lay where he had fallen, his face turned to one side, and half hidden by his sombrero. She gave no thought to the peril that she might be inviting by aiding the ruffian. Her one thought was to give aid.The girl was bending over him, when, in a flash, the fellow was on his feet, and two sinewy hands had grabbed her arms and whirled her about in the direction of the shot that had been fired at him. Elfreda Briggs had walked into a trap!That was not all. A report at her ear was followed by another and another. The bandit was shooting over her shoulder, using the Overland girl as a shield.There were no answering shots, nor could Elfreda see what the bandit had been shooting at, but she stood frozen, while he, alert and cool, kept his gaze fixed on a clump of bushes a few dozen yards ahead of them.Elfreda had not uttered a sound. She was trembling, but rather than have the man using her as a shield know this she summoned all her will power and gained control of herself.The bandit fired again. The shooting, so close to her ear, fairly deafened her. Elfreda had another cause for worry, for she did not know at what instant the bandit’s enemy might conclude to fire again. To a person in her position, that was not a comforting thought. No answering shot came, and the girl drew a long breath of relief.Not a word had passed between them up to this point, but now she spoke.“You coward!” breathed Elfreda.“Had to do it,” was the brief reply.“You will pay dearly for this,” she threatened.“Shut up! I’ll give ye a clout over the head if ye don’t, and I’d hate to do that to a purty gal like—”Bang!The bandit fired. Then a strange thing happened, and Elfreda was hurled forward on her face with unexpected violence.
“Hawk Murray!” exclaimed Elfreda Briggs, as one of the horsemen rode around the hedge and up to the door of the cabin. Elfreda recognized the man by his long hooked nose that really resembled the beak of a hawk. It was not a pleasant face to look upon.
“Mornin’, Miss,” he greeted, with an attempt at politeness.
“Good morning, sir,” replied Miss Briggs firmly, essaying a smile as she said it, though she did not feel like smiling, for the eyes of the rider seemed to be searching her very soul.
“Do ye live here?” was the next question.
“For the present, yes.”
“Ye don’t reckon ye’ve seen a stranger on a bay mare passin’ here this mornin’, do ye?” he questioned, leaning over and peering into the face of the Overland girl.
“No, sir. No one has passed here, so far as I know, since daylight. I don’t know who passed before that. Why do you ask?”
“We’re a posse on the track of a hoss thief. The bay mare he rode was stole, and some gold he had was stole, too.”
“Indeed!” observed Elfreda.
“We trailed the thief this way, but back a piece we kind of lost the trail,” volunteered the Hawk, grinning apologetically. “Be ye alone?”
“Oh, no. I am with a party. They are not here now, but I look for them to arrive shortly,” she answered, trying hard not to appear disturbed.
“Well, so long. We’ll be on our way.” The man swung off his hat and, wheeling his horse about, jogged along. Her heart sank as she saw that the riders were taking a direction, which, if followed on, would lead perilously close to the spot at which she had secreted Sam Petersen’s horse. She regarded each man keenly as they passed her, and theirs she saw on close inspection were hard, callous, reckless faces. There was coldness, there was daring, in them.
The last man in the line, younger than his companions, while his face was also cold, appeared to be of a character different from the others. There was a poise of the head, a grace in riding, and in the manner with which he bowed as he swung his hat low, that singled him out as a man somewhat above his fellows, in intelligence at least.
The riders were out of sight in a moment, and, with their passing, Elfreda Briggs’ knees grew suddenly weak. She staggered into the cabin and sat down heavily.
“Had they come in I don’t know what I should have done,” murmured the girl, placing a hand on the diary that she had hidden in her blouse. The bag of nuggets and “dust” lay in plain sight near the bunk on which Sam Petersen lay. Elfreda hurriedly sprang up and secreted the bag under the blankets. Then a sudden thought came to her. She recalled that the old prospector wore a holster, and that she had noticed the size of the revolver butt that protruded from it. Instant determination to possess herself of the weapon seized her.
“They will return! I feel it!” she cried.
It took but a moment to get the weapon and the cartridge belt, to both of which the girl gave critical inspection, for Elfreda had handled revolvers, both in France in wartime, and on their annual summer outings in the saddle. The weapon was loaded, and several rounds of cartridges still remained in the belt.
“There!” she exclaimed, after strapping the holster on. “I at least have the means of defending myself. Hark!”
Hoof-beats were plainly audible, but they seemed to be those of only one horse. A glance through the doorway, without revealing herself, verified this.
“It’s the good-looking one,” breathed Elfreda, retiring into the shadows and giving her holster a shift. “I must go out. It never will do to let that man come into the cabin,” she decided as she stepped to the door with an expression of surprised inquiry in her eyes.
“Ye didn’t think I’d be back so soon, did ye?” he grinned.
“I don’t think I looked for you to return,” Elfreda replied. “What is it you wish?”
“I reckoned as I’d like a drink of water.”
“Wait. I will fetch a dipper. The spring is just beyond the stump over yonder.” Elfreda was out with a dipper in her hand in a moment, and held it up to him, but the rider did not take it. He swung from the saddle and stood leaning against his mount, regarding her with something like a twinkle in his eyes. Elfreda saw that twinkle and was reassured.
“I see ye’ve got your hardware on,” he said, pointing to the revolver. “Purty sizable gun for a lady, eh? Ye didn’t have it on when I was here before.”
“Perhaps I was expecting more company after you went off. Why do you ask?”
The rider shrugged his shoulders.
“Reckon I’ll take that dipper now,” he said, extending a hand for it. Elfreda gave it to him, and keen as his eyes were, it is doubtful if he discovered the fear that Elfreda felt. After stepping back she got a broom and began sweeping up the cabin floor, which she was still doing when the man returned from the spring. Hearing him coming, she stepped outside.
“Thankee,” he said, returning the dipper.
“What would ye say, lady, if I told ye I wanted to search the shack?” he asked.
“I should sayno!” was the emphatic reply.
“And what if I decided to do it anyhow?” grinned the mountain rider.
“I’d shoot you!” she answered coldly.
“Sufferin’ cats! I believe ye would. Never can tell what these quiet kind might do. Can I have a look at the little toy?” he teased.
“You may look at the muzzle, if you wish.”
The fellow laughed and slapped his thigh.
“Ye’re a cool one, I’ll tell them all.”
“Thank you.” Elfreda was covertly watching every movement of her caller, every expression of face and eyes, and she could not but feel that he was unusually confident about something. Rack her brain as she might, she could not think what that something might be, unless Hawk’s party had discovered the bay mare, which she did not believe was a fact, for the party had swerved off to the right after leaving the vicinity of the forest cabin.
“If I reckerlect, lady, ye told the boss that ye hadn’t seen any strangers hereabouts—a fellow on a bay mare, an old party and a tough one.”
“I told you no one had passed here, and to the latter part of your question I am free to say that your party included the only ‘tough ones’ I have seen since coming into the forest.”
“So! I reckon I see the p’int. Lady, what about that saddle over there in the brush?”
Elfreda could feel her face going pale.
“The—the saddle!” she gasped, but instantly recovered herself. “What saddle do you mean?”
“I mean Sam Petersen’s saddle. I’d know that leather among all the rest in the Cascade range. He stole that, too. Now where’s the bay mare? He sure didn’t ride her away without the saddle.”
“Find him, if you want to know. Don’t ask me! As for the saddle that you say is over yonder in the brush, draw whatever conclusions you wish. Is that all? If so, I have work to do and will go to it,” announced J. Elfreda with great dignity.
“I reckon that’s ’bout all, ’cept that I’d like to look over that shack.”
“Very well, you may step up to the door and look in, but no farther if you value your life,” replied Elfreda, turning her back on him and stepping through the doorway.
The visitor was not slow to accept the invitation. He reached the threshold, and was about to stride into the cabin when he suddenly found himself facing the old prospector’s revolver, held in the steady hand of Elfreda Briggs.
“You may take a look at the revolver now if you like,” she offered. “Stay where you are!”
A glint came into the man’s eyes, a glint of danger, but it faded and he laughed.
“Very neat, Miss. I think I’ll take a look at that bunk over there, and that there hole in the floor with the trap door in it.”
“Out! Instantly!” Elfreda’s voice rang out with a new note in it.
The unwelcome guest’s hand sagged slowly towards his own holster.
“Hands up! Quick!”
The man obeyed, his eyes never leaving hers, nor did Elfreda’s eyes leave those of her caller. While he undoubtedly, with his long experience in quick work, could have dodged and drawn and fired ere Miss Briggs was able to prevent it, he did not do so. Perhaps he feared that she might hit his horse instead of himself, for that animal was directly in range with her weapon.
“Mount! Leave this place instantly! If you attempt to interfere with me you will do so at your peril!” she warned.
“Farewell, lady,” he answered mockingly. “I shall see ye just the same, and ye will answer my questions next time.” The fellow swung into his saddle, Miss Briggs still keeping her weapon trained on him as she followed him out.
Then she saw the man suddenly stiffen in his saddle, and what followed came at such speed that she was dazed. The fellow’s revolver leaped, it seemed to her, from its holster and met his hand half way. There was a sudden report, and a faint puff of grayish smoke from the muzzle.
A fraction of a second, after the report of his weapon, brought a shot from somewhere to the left of the Overland girl. The bandit’s horse jumped, and to Elfreda it was plain that the animal had been hit. It reared, and its rider toppled over and plunged backwards to the ground.
The Bandit Was Using Elfreda as a Shield.
The Bandit Was Using Elfreda as a Shield.
“He’s killed!” cried Miss Briggs, dropping her own weapon and running to the prostrate bandit who lay where he had fallen, his face turned to one side, and half hidden by his sombrero. She gave no thought to the peril that she might be inviting by aiding the ruffian. Her one thought was to give aid.
The girl was bending over him, when, in a flash, the fellow was on his feet, and two sinewy hands had grabbed her arms and whirled her about in the direction of the shot that had been fired at him. Elfreda Briggs had walked into a trap!
That was not all. A report at her ear was followed by another and another. The bandit was shooting over her shoulder, using the Overland girl as a shield.
There were no answering shots, nor could Elfreda see what the bandit had been shooting at, but she stood frozen, while he, alert and cool, kept his gaze fixed on a clump of bushes a few dozen yards ahead of them.
Elfreda had not uttered a sound. She was trembling, but rather than have the man using her as a shield know this she summoned all her will power and gained control of herself.
The bandit fired again. The shooting, so close to her ear, fairly deafened her. Elfreda had another cause for worry, for she did not know at what instant the bandit’s enemy might conclude to fire again. To a person in her position, that was not a comforting thought. No answering shot came, and the girl drew a long breath of relief.
Not a word had passed between them up to this point, but now she spoke.
“You coward!” breathed Elfreda.
“Had to do it,” was the brief reply.
“You will pay dearly for this,” she threatened.
“Shut up! I’ll give ye a clout over the head if ye don’t, and I’d hate to do that to a purty gal like—”Bang!
The bandit fired. Then a strange thing happened, and Elfreda was hurled forward on her face with unexpected violence.