Cowmen and Rustlers: A Story of the Wyoming Cattle Ranges, Edward Sylvester Ellis [e reader .TXT] 📗
- Author: Edward Sylvester Ellis
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"Well, Mont, what are you going to do about it?" asked Whitney.
By way of reply, the latter twisted the "warning" into the form of a lamplighter. Then he applied a match to one corner, and held the paper until it had burned to the last fragment.
"That's my opinion of Mr. Larch Cadmus and his gang, and I shall pay the same attention to them."
"You are not wise," ventured Jennie, who, with the awful memory of the preceding day upon her, could not but shudder at the peril to her friend, who had never been quite so near to her as during the last few hours, when he showed so much tender sympathy for her and her mother and brother in the depth of their desolation and woe.
"I thank you," he said, with the same manly frankness he had always shown; "I have no desire to appear as a boaster or to make light of danger, but one of the truest adages is that it is not the barking dog that does the biting."
"Don't make the mistake of supposing it is not so in this case," said Whitney, "and none should know it better than you."
"I do not underestimate the courage of those fellows; they will shrink at nothing, but there is no more excuse for my running away upon receiving such a warning than there would be for all the inhabitants of Wyoming to leave the State at such a command."
"The case is not parallel," was the comment of Fred Whitney.
"Bear in mind that if I stay, as I intend to do, I do not mean to sit down and wait for those rustlers to pick me off. I count on having something to say and do in the matter; but, friends, I must bid you good-night."
"What do you mean?" asked the astonished Fred Whitney.
"I must leave," replied Sterry, rising to his feet; "I have already staid too long."
CHAPTER IX. — A SUMMONS AND A REPLY.
Brother and sister were astounded. The hour was late, and they had been urging their guest to remain several days with them. He had not consented, nor had he refused, from which they were confident he would stay.
And now he announced his intention of departing at once, riding out into the night—whither?
They protested, but he replied so earnestly that an urgent necessity existed that they refrained. He gave no hint of the reason for his strange action, and they could not ask it. His fleet mare, which had been allowed to graze on the succulent grass at the rear of the building with the other horses, was brought forward and saddled and bridled, and he quickly vaulted upon her back.
"Remember me to your mother; it is not worth while to disturb her; I hope soon to be with you again."
He leaned over and pressed the hand of Fred Whitney, and then, raising his hat with his left hand, extended the right to Jennie.
Fred made an excuse to move away a few paces, for he understood the situation.
"Good-by," Sterry said in a voice just low enough to reach the dear one, as he pressed the delicate hand which rested so trustingly in his own.
"Good-by," she answered. "I am sorry you are going."
"So am I, but it is better that I should leave. As I said, I trust soon to see you again. Do you know why I hope Fred will decide to return to the East with you and your mother?"
"I suppose because we shall all be safer there;" and then she added, forgetting her sorrow for the moment, "that is if we do not go skating to Wolf Glen."
"It is not necessary to remove as far as Maine, but father insists that I am wasting time here, when I ought to be home studying my profession."
"And he is right, Monteith."
"But," he replied in a low voice, "before I go back I want to make sure that you will do the same. There, good-by again."
He replaced his hat, wheeled and dashed across the prairie without another word.
Jennie stood gazing in the direction taken by him for some time after he had disappeared in the gloom of the night. Then she turned to speak to her brother, but he had passed within the house. She resumed her seat, knowing he would soon return.
Fifteen minutes and more went by and she was still alone.
Sh! Was she mistaken, or was that the faint sound of a horse's hoofs in the distance?
She turned her head and listened. The murmur of voices, as her brother and mother talked in low tones, did not disturb her, and the almost inaudible lowing of the cattle on the distant ranges was but a part of silence itself.
Hardly a breath of air was stirring, but all knew the eccentric way in which sound is sometimes carried by it. Suddenly the reports of rifle-firing were heard, faint but distinct, and lasting several minutes. Then other and different noises reached her, still faint but clear.
Her power of hearing, like her vision, was exceptionally strong. It was that which enabled her to tell that the last sounds were not made by a single animal, but by several going at a high rate of speed. These, with the reports of rifles, made her certain that the rustlers had attacked Sterry.
Meanwhile the young man found matters exceedingly lively.
The reception of the "warning" through the hands of Fred Whitney was proof that his enemies knew he was frequently at his house. Their messenger had gone thither to deliver it. Young Whitney had slain one of their number, and though the law-breakers themselves had suffered the most, they felt bitter resentment toward the family.
If Sterry remained with them they would have trouble. He was satisfied that Larch Cadmus recognized him, as he sat in front of the rancher's house, and would not forget to tell it to his comrades, who would speedily make the place a visit. He believed they were likely to do it before the rise of the morrow's sun.
If the Whitneys were attacked, his presence would add to the defensive strength, but such an attack would not be made if he was not there. Desperate and defiant as the rustlers had been, it would be an injustice to represent them as capable of such wantonness.
He felt, therefore, that it was his duty to leave the ranch without delay, thus removing an element of grave danger. It would have
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