Part 5 (2/2)
One night as soon as the camp was quiet Pierce rose and, touching his marauders into activity, saddled and rode away as stealthily as the leader of a band of Indian scouts. He made straightway over the divide to the east, then turned, and, crossing the river, entered the town from the south, in order to deceive any chance observer.
Just below the station, in a little gully, he halted his war-party and issued final orders. ”Now I'll ride ahead and locate myself right near the back door; then when I strike a light you fellows come in and swirl round the shack like a gust o' h.e.l.l. The old devil will come out the back door to see what's doin', and I'll jerk him end-wise before he can touch trigger. I won't hurt him any more than he needs. Now don't stir till I'm in position.”
Silently, swiftly, his pony shuffled along the sandy road and over the railway-crossing. The town was soundless and unlighted, save for a dim glow in the telegraph office, and the air was keen and crisp with frost. As he approached the Badger's shack Pierce detected a gleam of light beneath the curtain of the side windows. ”If he's awake, so much the better,” he thought, but his nerves thrilled as he softly entered the shadow.
Suddenly the pony trod upon something which made a prodigious crash. The door opened, a tall young girl appeared in a wide flare of yellow light which ran out upon the gra.s.s like a golden carpet. With eager, anxious voice she called out:
”Is that you, Doctor?”
The raider stiffened in his saddle with surprise. His first impulse was to set spurs to his horse and vanish. His next was to tear off his disguise and wait, for the voice was sweeter than any he had ever heard, and the girl's form a vision of beauty.
Alarmed at his silence, she again called out: ”Who are you? What do you want?”
”A neighbor, miss,” he answered, dismounting and stepping into the light. ”Is there anything I can do for you?”
At this moment h.e.l.l seemed to have let loose the wildest of its warriors. With shrill whoopings, with flare of popping guns, Roy's faithful herders came swirling round the cabin, intent to do their duty, frenzied with delight of it.
Horrified, furious at this breach of discipline, Pierce ran to meet them, waving his hat and raising the wild yell, ”Whoo-ee!” with which he was wont to head off and turn a bunch of steers. ”Stop it! Get out!” he shouted as he succeeded in reaching the ears of one or two of the raiders. ”It's all off--there's a girl here. Somebody sick! Skeedoo!”
The shooting and the tumult died away. The hors.e.m.e.n vanished as swiftly, as abruptly, as they came, leaving their leader in panting, breathless possession of the field. He was sober enough now, and repentant, too.
Slowly he returned to the door of the shack with vague intent to apologize. Something very sudden and very terrible must have fallen upon the postmaster.
After some hesitation he knocked timidly on the door.
”Have they gone?” the girl asked.
”Yes; I've scared 'em away. They didn't mean no harm, I reckon. I want to know can't I be of some kind of use?”
The door opened cautiously and the girl again appeared. She was very pale and held a pistol in her hand, but her voice was calm. ”You're very good,” she said, ”and I'm much obliged. Who are you?”
”I am Roy Pierce, foreman for McCoy, a cattleman north of here.”
”Was it really a band of Indians?”
”Naw. Only a bunch of cow-punchers on a bat.”
”You mean cowboys?”
”That's what. It's their little way of havin' fun. I reckon they didn't know you was here. I didn't. Who's sick?”
”My uncle.”
”You mean the postmaster?”
”Yes.”
”When was he took?”
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