enough has been already told for the reader to understand the scheme which jennie whitney, with the help of her mother, attempted to carry out for the benefit of the besieged cattlemen.
with her cloak around her shoulders and her saddle supported on one arm, she passed quickly from the rear of her home to the stables, only a short distance away. she had been on the alert for the signal of duke vesey, and, seeing it not, was prepared to encounter some one else.
in this she was not disappointed, for at the moment of catching sight of the dark mass where the horses were sheltered the figure of a man loomed into view as though he had risen from the ground. she stopped short, and observed, dimly, the forms of two others just behind him.
"halloo!" exclaimed the nearest, "how is this?"
with peculiar emotions the young lady recognized the voice of larch cadmus. she hoped this was a favourable omen, and was quick to turn it to account.
"larch, is that you?" she asked, peering forward as if uncertain of his identity.
"i declare, it is miss jennie!" he exclaimed, coming forward; "how is it you are alone?"
"mother did not wish to come with me," replied the daughter, trying to avoid the necessity of direct deceit. "she will probably leave the house pretty soon."
the fellow was plainly embarrassed, despite the protecting gloom which concealed his features. jennie knew him to be one of her most ardent admirers, though she had never liked him. her hopes were now based upon making use of his regard for her.
"you have come out, jennie, i suppose," said he, offering his hand, which she accepted, "so as not to be in the house when the—ah, trouble begins."
"o, i know it will be dreadful; i want to go as far away as i can—do you blame me, larch?"
"not at all—not at all; and i hope, jennie, you don't blame me for all that your folks have suffered."
"why, larch, why should i blame you?" asked the young lady, coming fearfully near a fiction in making the query, for she knew many good reasons for censuring him in her heart. "but how soon do you intend—that is, how soon do the rest of your folks intend to attack the cowmen?"
"we—that is, they—expected to do so long ago, but there have been all sorts of delays; it will come pretty soon now."
"where are you to place mother and me?"
"over the ridge, yonder; you will be out of danger; you need fear nothing; why should you, for your mother will be with you and your brother will be with us, so that he can take no part in the fight."
he made no reference to mont sterry, and she was too wise to let fall a hint of her anxiety concerning him.
"but, larch, suppose, when you set fire to the house, as i heard your folks intended, our people rush out and attack you?"
"do they intend to do that?" he asked.
"i am sure i don't know; but you can see, if they do, the shooting will be going on all around mother and me."
"you can pass farther out on the plain or take shelter in the stable, among the horses."
"but that may be too late," interposed jennie, in well-feigned alarm.
"you can take refuge here now."
"i can't bear to stay in the stable, for the horses will become terrified when the shooting begins; they may break loose and prove more dangerous than the flying bullets."
there was sense in this objection, and the rustler saw it. he was anxious to propitiate the young woman, whom he admired so ardently.
"well, my dear, what would you like to do?"
"now, larch, you won't laugh at me if i tell you," she replied, in her most coquettish manner.
"laugh at you!" he protested; "this is no time for laughing; it was a shame that those people should turn your house into a fort, when it could do them no good. tell me what you want and it shall be done, if it is in my power."
"thanks! you are very kind, and i shall never forget this favour; i want to mount one of the best horses in the stable and ride out so far that i am sure to be beyond reach of danger."
the proposition staggered the rustler—so much so that it did not occur to him, just then, that the daughter appeared a great deal more anxious to look after her own safety than her mother's.
"you have a horse in the stable, haven't you?"
"yes, jack is there, and he is a splendid fellow; he is the one i want."
"but the saddle?"
"i have it with me; here it is; you and i will adjust it together."
and the impulsive miss placed the saddle in his grasp before he knew it. she certainly was rushing things. it must be admitted, too, that she showed fine discretion. there was but one way of handling mr. larch cadmus, and she was using that way.
he turned about and walked to the door of the stable.
"jack is in the second stall," she said, pausing at the entrance, "and his bridle is on the hook near his head."
the gloom was impenetrable, but a couple of matches gave cadmus all the light needed, and a minute later he brought forth the fine animal, who whinnied with pleasure at recognizing his mistress, despite the gloom.
jennie gave what help she could in saddling and bridling him, the other two men standing a little way off in silence. she kept up an incessant chatter, repeating her thanks to cadmus for his kindness, and binding him more completely captive every minute.
but the rustler was inclined to be thoughtful, for before the animal was ready he began to feel misgivings as to the prudence of what he was doing. there was something odd, too, about the young lady mounting her pony, riding alone out on the plain, and leaving her mother behind. then, too, she had emerged from the rear instead of the front of the house, as he judged from her line of approach.
could there be any ulterior purpose in all this? if she would only cease her chatting for a minute or two he might figure out the problem, but the trouble was, nothing could stop her. in fact he didn't wish her to stop, for that voice was the most musical one to which he could listen, and he would have been glad had it sounded for hours in his ears.
he managed to drift dangerously near the truth.
"can it be that she intends to ride away for help?" he reflected. "it has that look; but no, it is hardly that, for there isn't any help within reach that i know of. she might find it in the course of a day or two, but this affair will be over before daylight—i beg pardon, what was it you said, jennie?"
"why, larch, i'm tempted to pull your ears; you are a fine gallant; here i have been standing full ten seconds, waiting for you to help me on the horse, and you have paid me no attention."
"it was rude, my dear; i hope you will pardon me," he replied, stepping quickly forward, "but i am very absent-minded to-night."
"i will pardon you, of course, for you have been so good and nice that it would be ungrateful for me to be impatient."
he took the cinderella-like foot in his broad palm and cleverly assisted her in the saddle. while he helped to adjust the reins, her tongue rattled on harder than ever.
"how far, larch, will it be necessary for me to ride so as to be sure—mind you, sure—of being out of the way when this awful business opens?"
"well, i should say a hundred yards or so will be enough—"
"mercy! do you think so? i ought to go two or three times as far as that; you won't object, will you? and when the shooting does begin, i can hurry jack farther off."
"do as you think best; but it seems to me, jennie, that you are forgetting your mother—"
"o, no; when fred brings her out—maybe he has done so now—tell her the direction i have gone and she will understand. which is the best course for me to take? i guess it don't make any difference, so i will go this way."
through all this apparently aimless chatter, miss jennie whitney was using her wits. she knew a long ride was before her, and everything would be ruined if she lost her way. there was no moon or stars to give guidance, and she therefore carefully took her bearings while the chance was hers.
"i suppose it's all the same which course you follow, but i fear i am doing wrong in allowing you to ride off—"
"now, don't spoil everything by regretting the handsome way in which you have indulged my whim; i think i will ride over the ridge to the left—"
"hold on, jennie, until i can speak to inman; he may object—"
"you can speak to him after i am gone; good-night, larch, and many thanks again for your kindness."
she rode off with her intelligent jack on a walk until she was clear of the camp, when she touched him into an easy gallop.
larch cadmus stood looking into the gloom where she had vanished, almost before he comprehended her intention.
"well, she's a puzzle!" he exclaimed to his two companions, who came forward; "i don't know what to make of her. what do you suppose she meant by that, boys?"
"it's easy enough to see," replied one of them, with a laugh; "she's gone off after help."
"do you think so?" asked the startled cadmus; "where can she get it?"
"she may bring back their hands."
"there are only two of them," said larch, much relieved, "and they won't amount to anything in the rumpus. you don't imagine that she knows of any larger force anywhere in the neighbourhood?"
"she can't know of any, for there ain't any," was the clincher of the rustler; "or, if there is, she can't get it here in time to do asbury and the rest any good."
cadmus was relieved by the words of his friend. enough misgivings, however, remained to make him say:
"there are so many moving about that her departure don't seem to be noticed; i'll take it as a favour if you don't mention it to any one, for now that she is gone i am sure i never should have allowed it."
the couple gave the promise, though their belief was that nothing serious would follow.
leaving the two to keep watch at the stables, cadmus sauntered to where inman was seated near the camp-fire, smoking a pipe. a little inquiry disclosed that neither the leader nor any of his companions had noticed the departure of the young lady.
it was some time after this that duke vesey brought the report of mrs. whitney's illness as an explanation of her son's delay in returning to the camp of the rustlers.
exasperated, and suspecting a pretense, inman consented to a brief postponement of the attack.
the next startling occurrence was the capture of monteith sterry while trying to steal through the lines. as we have shown, he was identified the instant he was brought into the reflection of the firelight, and such precautions were taken that escape by him was out of the question.
when their impatience could stand it no longer, vesey was sent to capt. asbury with the message which he delivered. instead of his returning with a reply, fred whitney came back, bringing the announcement that vesey had entered the house without claiming the protection of a truce, and after telling what he was directed to tell about monteith sterry, capt. asbury had directed whitney to notify capt. inman that he would retain vesey as a hostage, guaranteeing that whatever harm was visited upon sterry should descend upon the head of vesey.
this message, as may be supposed, caused consternation for some minutes in the camp of the rustlers. the feeling was quickly succeeded by exasperation. had inman and cadmus been given the opportunity, no doubt they could have made a good argument to prove that, inasmuch as vesey had passed back and forth several times after his first announcement of a flag of truce, and its acceptance by the besieged cowmen, it was not required by the law of nations that he should proclaim the fact while continuing to act as messenger between the hostiles.
on the other hand, the truth remained that he had entered the house of the rancher with weapons in his hands and without any claim of immunity from harm.
the question was such a nice one, capable of so many finely-drawn theories, that it is useless to discuss it here. whatever decision we might reach, we could not feel assured we were right.
the hard fact confronted the rustlers that one of their principal men was in the power of the cowmen and was held as a hostage for the safety of the detested monteith sterry, who had been warned that he would be shot on sight by any rustler who gained the chance.
the unexpected phase of the situation caused a long and angry discussion between capt. ira inman and his leaders, to which, as may be supposed, fred whitney and monteith sterry paid close attention.
