Part 23 (1/2)
The next moment found them silently sliding down the mountain. Now pausing, holding their breath to listen, they caught the roar of the hounds, the crash of the men making their way through the brush. Now they came to a dense thicket of briars that tore at their clothes. Luckily they were clad in suits of stout khaki. Now they plunged down a deep ravine that threatened to be their undoing. At last they were up the other side and nearing the cabin.
”Have to work fast!” panted Patience. ”Find-find her! Pick her up. Don't wake her! Don't let her cry! Then go down the mountain-fast-fast as we can!”
Then they caught sight of the dark bulk of the cabin ahead of them. A faint light shone in the open doorway.
”A-a light-” faltered Marion, drawing her companion back. ”Maybe a man has been left behind.”
”Just the fire on the hearth, I guess. Anyway, we have to risk it.
C'mon.”
Again they crept forward. Now they were a hundred yards away, now fifty, now twenty-five, and now, with hearts beating wildly, they were skirting the cabin.
Dropping to the ground, Patience crept to the doorway. One glance within and she was up on hands and knees, creeping rapidly forward.
One moment of tense silence and she appeared at the door. In her arms was a large bundle.
”Got-got her,” she breathed. ”Now go! Go fast! C'mon.”
Once more they crept forward through the dark. A moment pa.s.sed, another, and yet another. A hundred yards below the cabin they were making rapid progress in spite of fallen logs, brush and the dark, when Patience suddenly stopped and gripped Marion's arm.
”Listen!” she breathed.
”Wha-what is it?”
”The hounds! They're baying!”
”They've been baying for a long time.”
”It-it's different now. They've got our scent. They're on our trail.
C'mon! We've got to go fast!”
”Where to?”
”I don't know, but come on!”
What was happening during all this time at the head of Laurel Branch beyond the natural gateway? Had old Job and his followers discovered that little Hallie had been stolen? And were they hot on the trail of the kidnappers? Would they arrive in time to save the little captive and her brave deliverers?
They had indeed discovered their loss and were mourning it bitterly. As old Job sat in the chimney corner reading his well worn Bible, from time to time a tear fell upon the faded pages. But the search had not begun; might not begin for several days. Such are the slow and silent ways of mountain folks. Besides, no clew had been left for them to follow. The kidnappers had entered the valley on foot. Fortune had favored them. It was during the excitement over the narrowly averted raid by Ransom Turner's men that they had slipped into the cabin and had carried away the sleeping child.
On the rocky creek-bottom road the shoes of the kidnappers made no imprint. It was only after walking two miles that they mounted horses, concealed all this time in a paw-paw thicket, and rode away. No aid could be expected from old Job's men.
CHAPTER XVI A PERILOUS GLIDE
As she dashed after her companion, Marion felt a dizzy wave of faintness sweep over her. With her knees all but refusing to support her, she seemed in danger of plunging head foremost down the mountain side. By a supreme effort she regained control of herself and, still gripping the long squirrel rifle, followed on as best she could.
After stumbling through brush and over logs, with the baying of hounds growing louder in their ears, they came to the bed of a small ravine.
There was water here and it offered better going. Besides, it might throw the hounds off the trail. So, sometimes to their ankles and sometimes to their knees in water, they plunged forward.