Part 33 (1/2)
The eyes of his a.s.sociates rested on Woodhull.
”I think one man would be safer than two,” said he. ”My own place is here if there's sure to be a fight.”
”Mebbe so,” a.s.sented Jackson. ”In fack, I don't know as more'n one'd git through if you an' me both started.” His cold gray eye was fixed on Woodhull carelessly. ”An' ef hit was the wrong man got through he'd never lead them Missouri men for'rerd to where this fight'll be.
”An' hit'll be right here. Look yan!” he added.
He nodded to the westward, where a great dust cloud arose.
”More is comin',” said he. ”Yan's Bannack's like as not, er even the Shoshones, all I know, though they're usual quiet. The runners is out atween all the tribes. I must be on my way.”
He hurried to find his own horse, looked to its welfare, for it, too, had an arrow wound. As he pa.s.sed a certain wagon he heard a voice call to him, saw a hand at the curtained front.
”Miss Molly! Hit's you! Ye're not dead no ways, then?”
”Come,” said the girl.
He drew near, fell back at sight of her thin face, her pallor; but again she commanded him.
”I know,” said she. ”He's--he's safe?”
”Yes, Miss Molly, a lot safer'n any of us here.”
”You're going back to him?”
”Yes. When he knows ye're hurt he'll come. Nothin'll stop him, oncet I tell him.”
”Wait!” she whispered. ”I heard you talk. Take him this.” She pushed into his hand a folded paper, unsealed, without address. ”To him!” she said, and fell back on the blankets of her rude pallet.
At that moment her mother was approaching, and at her side walked Woodhull, actuated by his own suspicions about Jackson. He saw the transaction of the pa.s.sed note and guessed what he could not know. He tapped Jackson on the shoulder, drew him aside, his own face pale with anger.
”I'm one of the officers of this train,” said he. ”I want to know what's in that note. We have no truck with Banion, and you know that. Give it to me.”
Jackson calmly tucked the paper into the fire bag that hung at his belt.
”Come an' take it, Sam, d.a.m.n ye!” said he. ”I don't know what's in hit, an' won't know. Who it's to ain't none o' yore d.a.m.n business!”
”You're a cursed meddler!” broke out Woodhull. ”You're a spy in our camp, that's all you are!”
”So! Well, cussed meddler er not, I'm a cussed sh.o.r.e shot. An' I advise ye to give over on all this an' mind yore business. Ye'll have plenty to do by midnight, an' by that time all yore womern an' children, all yore old men an' all yore cowards'll be prayin' fer Banion an' his men to come. That there includes you somewhere's, Sam. Don't temp' me too much ner too long. I'll kill ye yit ef ye do! Git on away!”
They parted, each with eye over shoulder. Their talk had been aside and none had heard it in full. But when Woodhull again joined Mrs. Wingate that lady conveyed to him Molly's refusal to see him or to set a time for seeing him. Bitterly angered, humiliated to the core, he turned back to the men who were completing the defenses of the wagon park.
”I kain't start now afore dark,” said Jackson to the train command.
”They're a-goin' to jump the train. When they do come they'll surround ye an' try to keep ye back from the water till the stock goes crazy. Lay low an' don't let a Injun inside. Hit may be a hull day, er more, but when Banion's men come they'll come a-runnin'--allowin' I git through to tell 'em.
”Dig in a trench all the way aroun',” he added finally. ”Put the womern an' children in hit an' pile up all yer flour on top. Don't waste no powder--let 'em come up clost as they will. Hold on ontel we come.”
At dusk he slipped away, the splash of his horse's feet in the ford coming fainter and fainter, even as the hearts of some felt fainter as his wise and st.u.r.dy counsel left them. Naught to do now but to wait.
They did wait--the women and children, the old, the ill and the wounded huddled s.h.i.+vering and crying in the scooped-out sand, hardest and coldest of beds; the men in line against the barricade, a circle of guards outside the wagon park. But midnight pa.s.sed, and the cold hours of dawn, and still no sign came of an attack. Men began to believe the dust cloud of yesterday no more than a false alarm, and the leaders were of two minds, whether to take Jackson's counsel and wait for the Missourians, or to hook up and push on as fast as possible to Bridger's fort, scarce more than two hard days' journey on ahead. But before this breakfast-hour discussion had gone far events took the decision out of their hands.