Part 15 (1/2)

He was mounted even as he spoke, and others joined him. Then turning, he waved his long arm up the valley towards the mountains. ”Divide into squads of five and cover the hills! Run down to Discovery, one of you, and telephone to town for Voorhees and a posse.”

As they made ready to ride away, the girl cried:

”Stop! Not that way. They went DOWN the gulch--three negroes.”

She pointed out of the valley, towards the dim glow on the southern horizon, and the cavalcade rode away into the gloom.

CHAPTER X

THE WIT OF AN ADVENTURESS

Up creek the three negroes fled, past other camps, to where the stream branched. Here they took to the right and urged their horses along a forsaken trail to the head-waters of the little tributary and over the low saddle. They had endeavored to reach unfrequented paths as soon as possible in order that they might pa.s.s unnoticed. Before quitting the valley they halted their heaving horses, and, selecting a stagnant pool, scoured the grease paint from their features as best they could. Their ears were strained for sounds of pursuit, but, as the moments pa.s.sed and none came, the tension eased somewhat and they conversed guardedly. As the morning light spread they crossed the moss- capped summit of the range, but paused again, and, removing two saddles, hid them among the rocks. Slapjack left the others here and rode southward down the Dry Creek Trail towards town, while the partners s.h.i.+fted part of the weight from the overloaded pack- mules to the remaining saddle-animals and continued eastward along the barren comb of hills on foot, leading the five horses.

”It don't seem like we'll get away this easy,” said Dextry, scanning the back trail. ”If we do, I'll be tempted to foller the business reg'lar. This grease paint on my face makes me smell like a minstrel man. I bet we'll get some bully press notices to- morrow.”

”I wonder what Helen was doing there,” Glenister answered, irrelevantly, for he had been more shaken by his encounter with her than at his part in the rest or the enterprise, and his mind, which should have been busied with the flight, held nothing but pictures of her as she stood in the half darkness under the fear of his Winchester. ”What if she ever learned who that black ruffian was!” He quailed at the thought.

”Say, Dex, I am going to marry that girl.”

”I dunno if you be or not,” said Dextry. ”Better watch McNamara.”

”What!” The younger man stopped and stared. ”What do you mean?”

”Go on. Don't stop the horses. I ain't blind. I kin put two an'

two together.”

”You'll never put those two together. Nonsense! Why, the man's a rascal. I wouldn't let him have her. Besides, it couldn't be.

She'll find him out. I love her so much that--oh, my feelings are too big to talk about.” He moved his hands eloquently. ”You can't understand.”

”Um-m! I s'pose not,” grunted Dextry, but his eyes were level and held the light of the past.

”He may be a rascal,” the old man continued, after a little; ”I'll put in with you on that; but he's a handsome devil, and, as for manners, he makes you look like a logger. He's a brave man, too.

Them three qualities are trump-cards and warranted to take most any queen in the human deck--red, white, or yellow.”

”If he dares,” growled Glenister, while his thick brows came forward and ugly lines hardened in his face.

In the gray of the early morning they descended the foot-hills into the wide valley of the Nome River and filed out across the rolling country to the river bluffs where, cleverly concealed among the willows, was a rocker. This they set up, then proceeded to wash the dirt from the sacks carefully, yet with the utmost speed, for there was serious danger of discovery. It was wonderful, this treasure of the richest ground since the days of '49, and the men worked with s.h.i.+ning eyes and hands a-tremble. The gold was coa.r.s.e, and many ragged, yellow lumps, too large to pa.s.s through the screen, rolled in the hopper, while the ap.r.o.ns bellied with its weight. In the pans which they had provided there grew a gleaming heap of wet, raw gold.

Shortly, by divergent routes, the partners rode unnoticed into town, and into the excitement of the hold-up news, while the tardy still lingered over their breakfasts. Far out in the roadstead lay the Roanoke, black smoke pouring from her stack. A tug was returning from its last trip to her.

Glenister forced his lathered horse down to the beach and questioned the longsh.o.r.emen who hung about.

”No; it's too late to get aboard--the last tender is on its way back,” they informed him. ”If you want to go to the 'outside'

you'll have to wait for the fleet. That only means another week, and--there she blows now.”

A ribbon of white mingled with the velvet from the steamer's funnel and there came a slow, throbbing, farewell blast.

Glenister's jaw clicked and squared.