Part 15 (1/2)

Mr. Howitt whispered to his companion, ”Let me open the door and talk to them, Grant. Surely they will listen to reason.”

But the woodsman returned, ”Talk to a nest of rattlers! Jim Lane's the only man that can talk to them now. We've got to stand them off as long as we can.” As he spoke he raised his revolver, and was about to fire a shot through the door, when a slight noise at one side of the room attracted his attention. He turned just in time to catch a glimpse of a face as it was withdrawn from one of the little windows. The noise at the door ceased suddenly, and they heard the two men running to join the group under the tree.

”They've found you ain't alone,” whispered the big fellow, springing to the window again. And, as a wild drunken yell came from the visitors, he added, ”Seems like they're some excited about it, too.

They're holdin' a regular pow-wow. What do you reckon they're thinkin'? Hope they'll keep it up 'till Jim--Sh--h--h Here comes another. It's that ornery Jim Bowles from the mouth of Indian Creek.”

The man approached the cabin, but stopped some distance away and called, ”h.e.l.lo, ol' man!”

”Well, what do you want?” answered Mr. Howitt.

”Who's that there feller you got with you?”

”A friend.”

”Yes! We all 'lowed hit war a friend, an' we all want t' see him powerful bad. Can't he come out an' play with us, Mister?” Another laugh came from the group under the tree.

Young Matt whispered, ”Keep him a talkin', Dad;” and Mr. Howitt called, ”He doesn't feel like playing to-night. Come back to- morrow.”

At this the spokesman dropped his bantering tone, ”Look a here, ol' man. We'uns ain't got no time t' be a foolin' here. We know who that feller is, an' we're a goin' t' have him. He's been a sneakin' 'round this here neighborhood long enough. As fer you, Mister, we 'low your health'll be some better back where you come from; an' we aim t' hep you leave this neck o' th' woods right sudden. Open up, now, an' turn that there feller over t' us; an'

we'll let you off easy like. If you don't, we'll bust in th' door, an' make you both dance t' th' same tune. There won't be ary thing under you t' dance on, nuther.”

The old shepherd was replying kindly, when his speech was interrupted by a pistol shot, and a command from the leader, at which the entire gang charged toward the cabin, firing as they came, and making the little valley hideous with their drunken oaths and yells.

From his window, Young Matt coolly emptied his revolver, but even as the crowd faltered, there came from their leader another volley of oaths. ”Go on, go on,” yelled Wash. ”Their guns are empty, now.

Fetch 'em out 'fore they can load again.” With an answering yell, the others responded. Carrying a small log they made for the cabin at full speed. One cras.h.i.+ng blow--the door flew from its hinges, and the opening was filled with the drunken, sweating, swearing crew. The same instant, Young Matt dropped his useless revolver, and, springing forward, met them on the threshold. The old shepherd--who had not fired a shot--could scarcely believe his eyes, as he saw the giant catch the nearest man by the shoulder and waist, and, lifting him high above his head, fling him with terrific force full into the faces of his bewildered companions.

Those who were not knocked down by the strange weapon scattered in every direction, crouching low. For a moment the big fellow was master of the situation, and, standing alone in the doorway, in the full light of the moon, was easily recognized.

”h.e.l.l, boys! Hit's Young Matt hisself!” yelled the one who had raised a laugh, by saying that Young Matt was sick and the shepherd was wanted to doctor.

”Yes! It's me, Bill Simpson. I'm sure ailin' to-night. I need somebody to go for a doctor powerful bad,” returned the young giant.

”We never knowed it war you,” whined the other carefully lengthening the distance between the big man on the doorstep and himself.

”No, I reckon not. You all played to find an old man alone, and do for him like you've done for others. A fine lot you are, ten to one, and him not knowin' the woods.”

While he was speaking, the men slowly retreated, to gather about their big leader under the tree, two of them being a.s.sisted by their companions, and one other limping painfully. Young Matt raised his voice, ”I know you, Wash Gibbs, and I know this here is your dirty work. You've been a braggin' what you'd do when you met up with me. I'm here now. Why don't you come up like a man? Come out here into the light and let's you and me settle this thing right now. You all--” CRACK! A jet of flame leaped out of the shadow, and the speaker dropped like a log.

With a cry the shepherd ran to the side of his friend; but in a moment the crowd had again reached the cabin, and the old man was dragged from his fallen companion. With all his strength, Mr.

Howitt struggled with his captors, begging them to let him go to the boy. But his hands were bound tightly behind his back, and when he still plead with those who held him, Wash Gibbs struck him full in the mouth, a blow that brought the blood.

They were leading the stunned and helpless old man away, when someone, who was bending over Young Matt, exclaimed, ”You missed him, Was.h.!.+ Jest raked him. He'll be up in a minute. An' h.e.l.l 'll be to pay in th' wilderness if he ain't tied. Better fix him quick.”

The big fellow already showed signs of returning consciousness, and, by the time they had tied his arms, he was able to struggle to his feet. For a moment he looked dizzily around, his eyes turning from one evil, triumphant face to another, until they rested upon the bleeding countenance of his old friend. The shepherd's eyes smiled back a message of cheer, and the kind old man tried to speak, when Wash Gibbs made another threatening motion, with his clenched fist.

At this, a cry like the roar of a mad bull came from the young giant. In his rage, he seemed suddenly endowed with almost superhuman strength. Before a man of the startled company could do more than gasp with astonishment, he had shaken himself free from those who held him, and, breaking the rope with which he was bound, as though it were twine, had leaped to the shepherd's side.

But it was useless. For a moment, no one moved. Then a cras.h.i.+ng blow, from the b.u.t.t of a rifle in the hands of a man in the rear of the two prisoners, sent Young Matt once more to the ground.