More troubles—Who was Bloody Jim—his attempt at kidnapping Little Wolf—The cause of his hatred and of the terror he inspired.
More troubles—Who was Bloody Jim—his attempt at kidnapping Little Wolf—The cause of his hatred and of the terror he inspired.
Q
uite like a little fury, Little Wolf burst into her own private apartment. Locking the door, she stopped suddenly and stamped, in a paroxism of grief and vexation.
"A drunkard's child!" she said scornfully "Disgrace!—I hate everybody!—I wish I'd shot myself!—I wish I was dead!—I wish father—" she did not finish the sentence; a loud knock at the door interrupted her.
"Who's there?" she asked.
"Me," said Sorrel Top.
"Go away," said her young mistress, imperatively.
"Mammy sent me," said Sorrel Top, "the Doctor is dying."
"O, God!" exclaimed Little Wolf, in an agony, "I have got my wish."
Trembling violently, she descended to the parlor and found her father stretched out on the sofa in an apoplectic fit. Wild and reckless as her words had been, Little Wolf would not for the world have seen her wishes fulfilled, and she was spared the remorse, which under the peculiar circumstances, her father's death would have occasioned.
Not having perceived how completely her information respecting Bloody Jim, had brought her father to his senses, she little dreamed that, while she was giving orders to mammy, he was in another part of the house inspecting the fastenings of the doors and shutters. Finding all secure, he returned to the parlor, in order to learn the particulars ofher meeting with the being, whose very name had created such terror and dismay throughout the household. Observing young Sherman and Dr. Goodrich, he attempted to address them, but suddenly lost the power of speech.
It was many hours before Dr. Goodrich dared give any encouragement of his recovery to his almost distracted daughter. All night long, she watched, with the young physician and Edward, by his bedside.
Daddy and others, kept a bright look out for the enemy; but he had been too badly wounded, to attempt any further violence that night.
For reasons unknown to any except the parties concerned, Dr. DeWolf had, in the person of Bloody Jim, a revengeful and deadly enemy. He belonged to the Red River half-breeds. Several years before, while a company of his people were encamped in the vicinity of St. Paul, on the upper Mississippi, for the purpose of trafficking withthe whites, Dr. DeWolf had paid them a chance visit.
As some alleviation to the insupportable loneliness, which the recent death of his wife occasioned, he accepted the invitation, of his friend and financial adviser, Squire Tinknor, to spend a few weeks with him, in the place above mentioned. This friend, was unfortunately, for a man of the Doctor's irregular habits, wealthy, wild and dissipated. Together they sought out and visited every place of amusement. Returning in company, from a horse race, one pleasant afternoon, they came in sight of the tented village, occupied by this demi-savage people. The novelty attracted the Doctor's attention and he insisted on alighting. "I must see what they've got in there," he said, pointing towards a tent from which the sound of music was heard.
Peeping slyly through a crack in the canvas, he saw the music-maker, a young girl, carelessly drawing a bow across the strings of a dilapitated violin, while her own very sweetvoice, dropped out a gay stanza, in broken English. She was alone; so the Doctor boldly lifted the door and went in. Five, ten and fifteen minutes, his companion impatiently awaited his appearance, and at length, seriously disturbed at his absence, he shouted his name.
"Yes, yes," said the Doctor from within, "I'm coming."
"What detained you so deuced long," said his friend, when they were again on their way.
"O, playing the agreeable to a little fool, who was sawing away on a greasy fiddle," said the recent widower of forty-five, or more. He was careful not to mention that the "little fool," was beautifully formed, with ruddy checks, with dark, loving eyes and, being rather handsome himself, he had conceived the idea of captivating her silly heart. The story of the "Spider and the fly," fitly illustrates the means by which his purpose was afterwards accomplished.
His inamorata had innocently informed himthat her protector, "brother Jim," spent the most of his time in the city, and the Doctor soon discovered that her savage looking relative frequently drank to excess. Under such favorable circumstances it required but little management to elude his vigilance. But, after the mischief was done, it was not so easy to escape a brother's revenge; especially as that brother's naturally ferocious nature had already acquired him the title of "Bloody Jim."
Not many months after the Doctor had returned home, his punishment began. He had just gone to the brewery to spend the evening, when his little daughter came running in.
"O, papa," she exclaimed, panting for breath, "I met such a great tall man out here—he wasn't an Injin—he talked a little like one, though. He had on a blue coat with bright buttons, and he had suchawfuleyes; O, dear!"
"What did he say, daughter?" said the Doctor, catching up his child, and pressing her to his heart.
"O, he said, 'what name?' I told him papa always called me daughter, mamma used to call me Little Wolf, and daddy and mammy called me honey, pet, dove, love, andevery thing, I wish I had a regular name, papa—I mean to give orders to be called Little Wolf, for mamma knew best, and she called me so."
"Little Wolf it shall be," said obedient papa. "But what next did the man say?"
"O, he said 'papa's name.' I said Dr. DeWolf; than he made such a coarse noise in his throat, just like an Injin; I thought he wanted to get me, so I ran in here, quick."
Dr. DeWolf groaned in bitterness of spirit. He thought of Bloody Jim, and was tortured with vague fears of what might be. He did not spend that evening in drinking at the brewery. But it was the last night his child knew a father's care. After that, he did nothing but drink, drink. He had drank before, in spite of the pleadings of his wife, whom his conduct had brought to a premature grave, and, as trouble increased, he drank yet the more.
From the moment Bloody Jim saw the Doctor's beautiful child, he worked to gain possession of her and spared her father's life for a time. In pursuance of his plans he returned to the Red River country and gathered about him a set of lawless wretches, whom he had before led on to deeds of violence, and brought them to Chimney Rock. The gang secreted themselves among the towering bluffs in the vicinity, and, while watching for their prey, robbed all who came in their way. The frequent outrages committed on travellers, spread alarm throughout the surrounding country, and officers of justice were dispatched in search of the perpetrators. In this state of affairs, Bloody Jim, resolved at once to make a bold attempt to capture the coveted prize, and quit the country. Selecting for his purpose, the hour when the Doctor was in the habit of leaving home for the brewery, he lurked in ambush, until Little Wolf, who usually accompanied her father the most of the way, should return home alone, and, when the opportunitycame, seized suddenly upon her, and, in spite of her struggles, bore her away towards the river. Leaping into a canoe, he threatened her with instant death, if she made the slightest resistance, and pushed out for the opposite shore. It was quite dusk when they landed on the other side. The poor frightened child, now for the first time broke the silence. She begged to be taken home again; but her captor only laughed horribly. "I Bloody Jim," said he; "how you like to be my wife?"
"O, take me home, I'm only a little girl," pleaded Little Wolf with quivering lip.
"You be big, by and by."
As he said this, an unseen hand laid him senseless on the beach. The same individual who dealt the blow, returned the child safely to her home, and leaving her to tell her own story, disappeared.
A chill of horror crept over the Doctor, when mammy, the next morning, related to him, her pet's adventure. He wrote immediately to his friend, Squire Tinknor, foradvice. "Send the child away to boarding school," was the counsel given, and forthwith, the Doctor acted upon it.
Four years at school, and a winter of fashionable life in New York, transformed the little miss into an accomplished young lady.
When about to return home, she purchased a superb brace of pistols. At her request, Mr. Marston, the brother of the young lady whose hospitality she had shared, selected them for her. As he was one of those quiet, fatherly sort of young men, who naturally win the confidence, if not the love, of young ladies, she felt no hesitancy in opening her heart to him, on the subject of the pistols. She also related to him the story of her wonderful escape from Bloody Jim, and positively declared that if he ever came near her again, she intended to shoot him through the heart.
"But how would you reward the person who rescued you," said Mr. Marston, eagerly.
"O, I'd do anything in the world for him," she replied, "if I only knew who he was."
"Would you love him?"
"Yes, I'd love him."
Just then the peculiar expression of her sober friend's face startled her, and she added, with one of her merry laughs, "provided he was not a poky old bachelor."
The bachelor perceiving that his time had not yet come, allowed the little would-be Amazon to depart, without again making the slightest approach to the subject nearest his heart.
Her skill in the use of the silver-mounted weapons, excited great admiration in the breast of daddy, whom she usually allowed to assist in setting up a target, because she could not well get rid of him. His eulogies were, on the whole, rather gratifying to her vanity, for before his sight failed him, he had been no mean marksman.
Entirely unconscious of the dangerous resistance to be met, Bloody Jim made his second attempt on Little Wolf's freedom. She was returning from a long tedious walk, among the bluffs, at the close of a Spring day; her revolvers hid away in the holders,beneath her mantle, when suddenly, her enemy appeared in her path. Little Wolf stood for a moment as if spell-bound. Again she heard that horrid guttural laugh and saw those fiendish black eyes. "I got you now," was all he had time to say, before a ball from her pistol pierced him. She saw him fall, and fled. As nothing more was heard from him, or his men, it was generally supposed that Little Wolf had put an end to his life.
Like one risen from the dead, he appeared to her in his attack upon Dr. Goodrich and Edward Sherman, at the Pass. She knew he must have gone there to watch for her, and in saving others, she had also saved herself.
Dr. Goodrich leaves with Daddy as Guide—daddy's war-like preparations—His testimony to the curse of strong drink—What they discovered on their way to the Village.
Dr. Goodrich leaves with Daddy as Guide—daddy's war-like preparations—His testimony to the curse of strong drink—What they discovered on their way to the Village.
M
orning dawned fresh and beautiful. Dr. DeWolf's symptoms continued favorable. Refreshed and re-invigorated, after an hour's repose, the watchers gathered around the breakfast table with cheerful faces. Too young and mirthful to be very seriously affected, for any great length of time, by what had occured, Little Wolf joined with her guests in sippingcoffee, and talking over the events of the preceeding evening with becoming composure.
During the meal, she slipped out to peep into the invalid's apartment. As she flitted from the room, the Doctor turned to Edward, who was gazing after her with an expression of intense admiration. "Ah, Ned," said he "your time has come."
"Fact, Doctor, I do feel queer. The little witch is too much for me."
"What can I do for you?" said the Doctor, with a professional nod.
"O, leave me here to-day, Doctor. Positively, I can't go back with you."
"What, Ned, allow me to fight my way alone, through a band of desperadoes?" said the Doctor, with feigned trepidation.
"Pshaw, Doctor! there's no danger; their chief is dead, or wounded, and they've fled long before this time."
Their young hostess broke in upon the conference with a smiling face. "Papa is resting very quietly," she said; "but I fear a return of his complaint. I shall feel anxious 'till you return, Doctor, if indeed, you still think you must go back this morning. Could not Mr. Sherman go for you? Daddy might show him the way."
Edward cast an imploring look towards the Doctor, who magnanimously sacrificed his own ease to the wishes of his friend. "It will be necessary, for me to go myself," he replied; "but give yourself no uneaseiness, Miss DeWolf. I do not think your father will have a second attack. I will accept your offer of a guide, and, with your permission will leave my friend, Mr. Sherman, as my proxy."
There was a slight dash of malice in the Doctor's last words, which Edward was too grateful to notice.
When the hour for setting out arrived, daddy appeared, armed and equipped, for what his fears had magnified into an exceedingly perilous journey. At sight him, of Little Wolf burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. His little, insignificant figure was girded by an old leathern belt, which wasliterally stuck full, of such weapons as he could hastily pick up, about the premises.
"Bless me! what do you expect to do with that outlandish outfit?" said his young mistress, when she was able to speak.
"Why 'fend myself, to be sure," replied the old man indignantly.
"O, fie, daddy," said she coaxingly; take off that heavy old belt. Why it makes you look so, and sweat so, too. Come, now, if you will, I'll lend you one of my pistols."
The old man's rising temper was quite mollified, at the proposal of Little Wolf; for to sport those pistols, had been an honor, to which he had hitherto aspired in vain.
"Well, now, I'll explain the case, honey," said he, attempting to approach her; "'tween you and me—"
"O, no, no," said Little Wolf, putting her fingers to her ears, and slipping our of his way.
"Bless her heart," said daddy, turning to the Doctor; "that's just the way she used to run away from me, when she was a little gal.'Tween you and me, though, I was only going to tell her, how it wasn't the heft of this ere belt, that made me sweat so. It was sharpening these ere, on the old grindstone," and he drew forth a couple of large butcher knives, which glistened brightly in the sunbeams.
"O, those knives are just what mammy wants in the kitchen; I heard her say so," said Little Wolf appearing on the piazza with the pistols.
It required a vast amount of coaxing to bring the old man to terms, but finally a compromise was effected, and stowing a knife away in his coat pocket, he set out with one of the pistols, the Doctor being armed with the other.
Instead of the short cut of the night before, the Doctor chose the more circuitous route through the village; if a cluster of dilapidated houses might be dignified by that name. Dr. DeWolf's old brown residence, situated on a high hill, with its piazza stretching across the front, was the most imposingedifice to be seen. The remaining comfortless dwellings, mostly log cabins, and board shanties, with their broken windows and ragged inmates, who flocked out to gaze at the strangers, presented an appearance desolate in the extreme. Even the shadow cast by old Chimney Rock, after which the place was named, added a darker aspect to the scene. Chinmey Rock was an irregular old bluff, standing like a grim old castle by the riverside, its chimney-like summit, rocky and bare, the most conspicuous object in the landscape.
"What a God-forsaken place," exclaimed the doctor, involuntarily.
"'Tis so, this ere is a broke-down, one-horse concern, and that ain't the wust on't, nuther," said his companion; who was almost bursting with communicativeness.
"Well, what is the worst of it?" inquired the Doctor, as much to gratify the old man's weakness, as to satisfy his own curiosity.
"Why, Doctor, 'tween you an' me, there's awful doin's here. Ye see, sence that saloonwas sot up in one end of the old brewery, all the men here have got to drinking, and 'tis astonishing how men will act, when they git soaked in liquor. I've heered temperance lecturers tell stories that would make your har stand on ind; that was when I was young, and there was a great excitement on the subject. I signed the pledge then, and I never broke my word on no account, or I expect I should be as bad as the rest of them here. I've had to stand out agin hard persuasions. They've tried to git me to take a glass of lager; sez they, 'lager won't hurt nobody;' sez I, 'it's hurt you.' You see, it don't require no argument, I can pint 'em to facts. Now, there's Prime Hawley; when he come here to live, he was a fine, stiddy young man; his wife was as pretty as a rose, and as happy as a lark. Somehow, Prime got to going to that saloon. Well, I gin him fair waning. Sez I, 'Prime, they'll get the halter on ye, if ye go there;' sez he 'I guess not, a glass of lager won't hurt nobody;' but now, sure as fate, he's the worst of 'emall. He's whipped and frightened his putty wife most to death, and she's got sickly now. Some say he's even jined Bloody Jim's gang. 'Tween—"
"Hark!" said the Doctor, suddenly interrupting the narrator.
Deep, agonizing groans were distinctly heard in the direction of the Pass, which they were nearing.
"O, murder, what's that?" shouted daddy; and he wheeled his horse about and gallopped homeward.
"Stop, come back here," shouted the Doctor, at the top of his voice.
The old man reluctantly obeyed. Approaching within a short distance of the Doctor, he motioned that individual towards him. "O, Doctor, 'twont do fur to go furder," said he; "'tween you and me, I've heern say, that's jist the way them robbers do, when they want to ketch anybody. There goes that yell agin. O, that ereisawful; we'll get ketched; it won't do fur to stay here."
Exasperated beyond endurance at the cowardice of his guide, the Doctor bade him remain where he was, while he went forward to reconnoitre. A short ride round the point of the bluff brought him directly upon the bleeding form of the desperado, who had attacked him the preceeding evening. Hailing daddy, he alighted and approached the apparently dying man.
"Prime Hawley, by gol!" exclaimed daddy, as he came up. "Why, Prime," said he, hopping briskly down from his saddle; "twixt you and me, how did you get in this ere fix?"
"Oh! oh!" groaned Prime, "take me home; I'm dying."
"I'll take him home if you say so, Doctor," said daddy, "his heft is nothing, and it's near by."
"Very well, I'll follow with the horses."
"I say, Prime," said the old man, when they had nearly reached the home of the sufferer, "tween you and me, aint had nothin' to do with Bloody Jim, have you!"
"Yes, I have; curse him!"
"He ain't nowhere 'bout here now, is he?"
"I expect not, oh! oh! I wish he was suffering as I am."
"O, Miss Hawley, 'tween you an' me, here's a sore trial fur you," said daddy to a pale-faced, delicate looking woman, who met him at the cabin door with looks of alarm.
Mrs. Hawley trembled violently, and her pale face grew a shade paler, but she asked no questions, as she led the way to the bed. Her silence, at first, impressed the Doctor with the idea that she was accessory to her husband's guilt, and he watched her closely. No tear dimmed her eye, no sigh escaped her, yet she seemed painfully alive to the agony which her miserable husband endured, while the Doctor was dressing his wound.
"Do you think he will live, Doctor?" she enquired in a sort of hopeless, melancholy tone, as Dr. Goodrich was about to leave.
"It is an exceedingly critical case," replied the Doctor, "he may possibly recover."
"'Tween you and me," said daddy, coming between them, "I'd like to know how Prime got that shot?"
Poor Prime shook his head imploringly towards the Doctor, who went to him, and quieted his apprehensions in a few whispered words. "I don't care," said Prime, "only it would kill her to know it."
As they were passing the old brewery, when they were again on their way, a man came out and accosted them. "Hello, old Roarer," said he, addressing daddy, "how is Dr. DeWolf, this morning"
The old man straightened himself in his saddle, and preserved a dignified silence.
With an oath, the man commanded him to speak, but daddy rode calmly on; his indignation got the better of his cautiousness.
"I'll pound you to a jelly," shouted the man after him,
"I'll risk it," said daddy addressing the Doctor.
Now daddy was not really a natural coward. But it cannot be denied that old ageand extreme cautionsness had greatly moderated the courage which he possessed in his youth. "'Tween you and me," he continued, "that Hank Glutter is the meanest critter that ever trod shoe-leather. I've heern poor Mrs. Hawley plead with him not to sell Prime liquor, and I've heern him order her out of the saloon, and I've follered her hum, to see how she took it. Well, it was dreadful to see her goings on. She'd bounce on to the bed and groan there, then she'd bounce up and throw herself on the floor and groan there, and moan and holler right out; O, it seemed 'zif she never would get cool. She'd walk the floor, and wring her hands and take on awful. Them was the times when she was young and was full of grit—I've been watching her lately, and she's acted rather different. Ye see she was down to the brewery night afore last, I seen her coming hum and I knowed she was dreadful riled about something, so I kept my eyes on her; Lord! if she didn't drop, right down on her knees afore her bed, and let off all her feelins in a wonderful strange way. Seems 'zif she just talked to the Lord. When she riz up, she looked kinder quiet and resigned like, just as she did to-day; sez I to myself, if there's a God in heaven, he's heern that woman. I expected he would send fire down and burn that old brewery that very night, but there it stands and that old cuss, that hollered after me, is alive yet. 'Tween you and me, them things is kinder strange, now aint they, Doctor?"
"Rather strange," replied the Doctor dryly.
After riding a few moments in silence, daddy ventured to make still another attempt to open a conversation. "'Tween you and me, Doctor, was you acquainted with Miss Sherman?"
"What Miss Sherman?" said the Doctor in surprise.
"Why, young Edward's mother, down in the old Bay State. I ain't heern nothin' from the folks down thar since I left. I seed young Edward didn't know me, but I'vedandled him on my knee many a time, when he was a leetle shaver. 'Tween you and me there was a gal working at Judge Sherman's that I had a liking fur, so Sundays, I used to go down thar sparking, I'd kinder like to know if that gal's spliced yet."
"What was her name?"
"Her name was Miss Orrecta Lippincott; they generally called her Recta, in the Judge's family."
"Recta is single yet, I saw her just before we left; but why did'nt you marry her?"
"'Tween you and me, Doctor, I was a fool, I've allers felt a kinder hankering after her. I can't get over them fust feelings I had, to this ere day. Is she handsome yit, Doctor?"
"Not very."
"Well, I used to tell her if she got old and grey, it wouldn't make no difference in my feelins," said the old man, rubbing his great, coarse hand across his eyes.
"'Tain't natur," he began after a moment's pause, "to keep our feelings shet in allers. Now, mammy is chuck full of spunk sinceshe's married me, so I aint let on to nobody. Ye see, if she got hold on't, she'd never give me a minute's peace."
"Well, why didn't you marry Miss Lippincott?"
"'Tween you and me, Doctor, I got it into my head that she liked Sam Brown. Ye see, there was a man told me that he seed him and her kiss, right afore Judge Sherman's gate. Wall, this feller was allers puttin' me up to think that Orrecta was flirty like, and I was jest fool enough to believe him, so I jest packed up my duds and cum out West, with Dr. DeWolf. He'd been teasing me to cum 'long with him fur some time. Ye see, I'd allers been his gardener, ever since he was married. Miss DeWolf that's dead now, she sot heaps by me. 'Now, Philip,' says she—ye see my real name is Philip Roarer—'we can't get 'long without you, fur to milk the cow and make the garden'. I could see that her eyes was a leetle watery like, and I knew that she hated to cum off alone, with the Doctor, 'cause sometimes when hegot a leetle tight, he didn't treat her nun too well. But the Doctor got 'long fust rate, when he fust got here; he didn't drink much and he made heaps of money, he and a crony of hisn, named Squire Tinknor. He lives in St. Paul now, and does the Doctor's business fur him yet. Ye see, Squire Tinknor can drink a barrel of liquor and not feel it, but the Doctor gets crazy enough, on nothing but lager. 'Tween you an' me, that old brewery in the holler has played the devil with the Doctor. I told Hank Glutter how it would be, when he fust sot up the saloon in't. Sez I, 'Mr. Glutter, I'd rather you'd chop this ere right hand of mine right off, than to place that are temptation afore Dr. DeWolf.' Sez he, 'What's the harm of a leetle beer?' Sez I, 'Ain't you goin' to sell nothin' else?' Sez he, 'O, I may keep a few liquors jest for variety.' Seems zif I should sink when he said that are, but I jest felt zif I couldn't gin up, so I let right into him. It didn't do no kinder good though. Sez he, 'If I don't sell it somebodyelse will, and I might as will make money on it as anybody.' Well, the long and short of it is, Doctor, he has got rich on't and now, 'tween you and me, he's kinder hanging 'round the honey, but I guess he'll git his walkin' papers afore long; ye see, the honey she's alive, every inch on her."
The Saloon Keeper—Comforting Reflections—The Unwelcome Call—Diabolical Plotting.
The Saloon Keeper—Comforting Reflections—The Unwelcome Call—Diabolical Plotting.
S
wearing vengeance on daddy, who had treated him with such unqualified contempt, Hank Glutter entered his saloon. He was a young man of about thirty years of age, rather below medium height. His form was well developed, his complexion light, and his hair curled in luxuriant ringlets. He was exceedingly vain of his appearance, and, when in good humor, caressed his whiskers incessantly. He was of a respectable family and his education was liberal, and yethe was nothing more than a smooth-tongued, hard-hearted, revengeful villain.
He had aspired to Little Wolf's hand, but, on making some unmistakable advances to that lady, he was promptly repelled.
The supreme contempt with which she invariably treated him exasperated him to such a degree, that he conceived the diabolical project of placing her in the power of Bloody Jim, with whom he had already had some secret dealings.
At his suggestion, Bloody Jim made overtures to Prime Hawley to assist in the undertaking. Prime, being in exceedingly indigent circumstances, could not resist the tempting reward offered.
The plan to capture Little Wolf, and convey her across the river, in her own skiff, to a point, where, having in mind his defeat on a former occasion, he had stationed a guard, was well laid, but miscarried, as we have already seen.
Bloody Jim was but slightly wounded, and he soon recovered sufficiently to seek a placeof safety, leaving Prime Hawley, as he supposed, dead.
Hank Glutter could gather no satisfactory information from the intoxicated set, who that night returned from Dr. DeWolf's, and, as we have seen, daddy was disinclined to relieve his suspense; therefore, he resolved to go in person to the Doctor's, and ascertain, if possible, the precise position of affairs.
By way of smoothing his ruffled plumes, he hastily swallowed a stimulating draught, and very soon a more complacent expression settled upon his countenance.
Approaching a large mirror, he bestowed a momentary attention upon his dress, but lingered lovingly over his glossy ringlets. "Miss DeWolf was a fool to turn the cold shoulder to me," said he to himself, as he gave the finishing touch to his soft flaxen hair. "I wonder if Bloody Jim really got her. If he has, wouldn't she be glad to fly to my arms, though."
These comforting reflections were entirely dispelled, when a few moments afterwards, hewas ushered into the parlor at Dr. DeWolf's, and in utter astonishment, beheld Little Wolf on apparently intimate terms with the handsome stranger. She was holding an earnest conversation with Edward concerning her father, and did not at first notice the presence of the intruder, who was, by this time, heartily wishing himself behind his bar again. But, contrary to his expectations, the young lady granted him a gracious reception, and introducing him to Mr. Sherman, almost immediately excused herself to attend upon the invalid.
The young men left alone entered into conversation, and, so well did Hank Glutter conceal his true character, that Edward was quite well pleased with his appearance, and at the close of the interview, accepted a polite invitation to accompany Hank to his saloon, and when there, was easily persuaded to take a glass of lager beer. The day was hot and the lager of the finest quality, so before he left, he drank several glasses more, and while thus engaged, confided to his entertainer the whole story of his adventure with Bloody Jim.
"But what became of the men who were shot," said Hank, burning with impatience to learn the fate of his accomplices.
"O, we left the dead to bury their dead, Mr. Glutter. Miss DeWolf is confident there is a gang of the ruffians. I intend to make it my business to look after them a little."
"So do I," said Hank, and as soon as Mr. Sherman was gone, he proceeded to put his dangerous threat into execution, by calling upon Mrs. Hawley.
"Good morning, Mrs. Hawley," said he in his blandest tone, as she slowly approached the open door, in answer to his gentle tap. "Is Prime at home?"
He was about to enter, but Mrs. Hawley quietly motioned him back, and herself stepped outside, "Mr. Hawley is very ill," said she, "and unable to see company."
"May I not be allowed to see him a moment?"
"No, sir."
"Just for a moment," he persisted, "I am really anxious to see Prime."
"No, sir; his life might be the forfeit."
"Now, really, Mrs. Hawley—"
"Mr. Glutter," said she, interrupting him, "have you forgotten your conduct to me the last time we met?" and a burning spot came to her cheeks, and scathing words dropped from her lips. "You know too well, sir, that my home is desolate, my heart is broken, and my husband is murdered, all through the influence of your cursed business. I thought I would treat you politely, Mr. Glutter, but I cannot. God forgive me. Leave me; the very sight of you makes me desperate. Leave me, I say, if you would not again have the curse of a drunkard's wife fall upon your blackened soul."
"What a perfect she-devil you are," said Hank, now throwing off all restraint. "I mean to see Prime, spite of you."
"Try it, if you dare," said she, and her eyes flashed and sparkled with a desperate purpose, as she planted herself in the door.
Just then, Dr. Goodrich and daddy, on their return trip, were seen approaching.
"You'll repent this," said her persecutor with an oath, and immediately withdrew.
He went directly to the cove where Little Wolf's boat was usually moored. It was not there, and he took courage.
"Bloody Jim could not be hurt much," he soliloquized in an undertone, "or he couldn't have taken the boat away. I shall manage that girl yet, and that Sherman, too, if he don't take care of himself. They'll be lovers, I see that plainly enough. So much the better; moonlight walks will follow, as a matter of course. Now we'll see who will beat in this game."
Music—The Warning—Preparations For Winter Interrupted—The Welcome Boat.
Music—The Warning—Preparations For Winter Interrupted—The Welcome Boat.
T
hree months had passed, and during that time, Dr. DeWolf had entirely recovered his health. Prime Hawley was up and doing, following with renewed vigor his former pursuits; threats and entreaties had wrung from him a half-hearted confession, but, out of pity for his wife, the affair was hushed up, and he was saved from merited punishment.
Bloody Jim had not been seen or heard of,and he alone carried the secret of Hank Glutter's criminal designs.
Edward Sherman had become an almost daily visitor at Dr. DeWolf's, and while his friend Dr. Goodrich was establishing himself in his profession at Pendleton, he was gradually gaining a more certain hold, on the affections of Little Wolf.
Our heroine was still, to all appearance, the same little bundle of contradictions that she had always been.
"There, I'm always sure to do the very thing I say I will not do," she said to herself half pettishly, as she opened her piano with a jerk, and ran her fingers carelessly, over the keys, one fine October day.
Very soon she was quite absorbed, in practicing a difficult piece of music, which her lover had, heretofore, recommended in vain.
"O, Miss DeWolf, there's a squaw here that wants to see you," said Sorrel Top, bursting suddenly into the room.
"O, she's begging, no doubt. Give her what she wants, Sorrel Top, I'm engaged justnow," and Little Wolf went on with her music.
"There, I told you so. I knowed Miss DeWolf wouldn't have nothing to do with squaws, or injins, nor nothing else that's low," exclaimed Sorrel Top, loud enough to be heard by her young mistress, who always made it a point to do the very thing it was expected she would not do.
The dumpy little copper-colored creature, enveloped in an Indian blanket, before whom Sorrel Top had drawn herself up with a triumphant toss of the head, was just making a second plea, when Little Wolf made her appearance.
"I want to hear music, do tell the lady I want to hear music," she said in very good English.
"O, if that's what you want, come this way," said Little Wolf, leading on to the parlor.
The Indian followed, pattering along in her soft moccasins, leaving Sorrel Top quite crest fallen.
"Now here is where the music comes from," said Little Wolf, placing her hand upon the instrument, and following her piece of information with a lively air.
"Now, how do you like that?"
"It is very pretty; may I try to make music?"
"Certainly," said Little Wolf, vacating her seat with infinite condescention. The maiden drew her blanket more closely around her, and made it fast. Her exceedingly small and finely formed hands were now at liberty, and, instead of the discordant notes which her auditor fully expected, a flood of harmonious sounds burst upon her ear.
"What does this mean?" exclaimed Little Wolf in utter astonishment, when the strains had ceased.
The performer bent upon her a long searching look, and enquired, "Are you Miss De Wolf?"
"I am."
The strange visitor immediately rose and approached the door.
"There! stop; who are you?" demanded Little Wolf, vehemently.
"Hush! I was going to bolt the door," and she deliberately turned the key in the lock. "I'm your friend, young lady, and I'm come to warn you of impending danger."
Little Wolf slightly paled, but she stood firm awaiting further developments.
"Too much time has been wasted already," she began, "Bloody Jim is here, at Chimney Rock, waiting for the first favorable moment to kidnap you, and murder your servants, and set fire to your home. He is now more daring and reckless than ever. Three times you have thwarted him, and he still carries the scars he has received at your hands. This is the day, and, for ought I know, the very hour, that he designs to fall upon you. It was to be when your father was helplessly intoxicated, and yourself entirely off your guard. I think he has two or three accomplices living in this place. I love Bloody Jim, steeped in crime as he is, and I beg of you, if it shall be possible for you to saveyourself without taking his life, you will do so. I have now done all I can for you; good bye."
"There, you shall not go," exclaimed Little Wolf, springing towards her, "you must stay and assist me."
"I can do nothing more for you, Miss De Wolf, indeed, I cannot. I have told you all I know. My journey has been exceedingly painful and perilous, and I am completely exhausted. If I am discovered, I must inevitably lose my life. I do not dread death, but if alive, and you should be captured, I might possibly render you some assistance. Now you must not detain me."
"Well, but who are you," persisted Little Wolf, "that you are able to give me all this information, and yet cannot give me any aid?"
"I can, in all probability, aid you more by going than by remaining," said the other hurriedly. "My skin is stained, my clothes are stuffed to give me this fleshy appearance, but you will recognize me if we meet again. Myname is Antoinette Le Claire. Now Imustgo. The good Lord help you," and she waddled off, in precise imitation of a fat old squaw.
"Now I must be brave," thought Little Wolf, pressing her hand on her brow, while she tried to think what plan to pursue.
Her first thought was for her father's safety, who was, as usual, at the brewery, where he had gone soon after dinner, and as he had not been there long, she hoped he was not, as yet, intoxicated.
Stepping to the door, she hailed daddy, who was busy storing away some vegetables in the cellar, for winter use. "See here, daddy, I want you to go down to the brewery as quick as you can, and tell father—well, tell him I'm sick, and want to see him right away."
"'Tween you and me, honey,"—
"O, go, this minute, daddy," and she shut the door in his face, and proceeded to the kitchen, where she found mammy quietly smoking her pipe in the corner.
"O, mammy, where is Sorrel Top?" said she.
"Sorrel Top, why she's picking grapes for that are jelly you wanted made. I'm going to help her when I git rested, and slick up a leetle."
"No, mammy, you must help me. Bloody Jim is around here somewhere, and he's going to try to kill us all and burn the house. I've just sent daddy for father, and you had better call Sorrel Top. I'll get my pistols, and we'll secure the house."
"O, laws a mercy! how did you find it out, honey?"
"Wait 'till we are safe and I'll tell you."
"O, honey, did you tell daddy?"
"No."
"O, I'm awful glad, he'd be so flustrated you know."
"Yes, I know; now don't you get flustrated, and let it out quite yet, you had better tell Sorrel Top, though."
Sorrel Top was duly informed, and they all set to work, and had made what arrangements for their safety they could, when daddy returned.
"'Tween you and me, Honey, the Doctor can't come."
Little Wolf knew, by the expression on the old servant's face, why her father could not come, and she went up close to him, and whispered, "Is he very bad, daddy?"
"O yes, pet, 'tween you and me, he's dead drunk."
A shiver ran through the daughter at this intelligence, and she now felt strong suspicions that Hank Glutter was implicated in her enemy's plot, and the condition of her father indicated that the crisis was near at hand.
"Well, daddy, cannot you get him some way?" she enquired, after a moment's thought, "can't you get some of the men to help you?"
"There ain't nobody there but Hank Glutter."
"Well, won't he assist you?"
"Bless your heart, honey, no—he orderedme off when I was there just now, and said things it wouldn't do for you to hear, no how."
"If you should write him a little billet and ask him, may be he would," suggested mammy.
The note was speedily dispatched, and ran thus:—