The Man of the Forest, Zane Grey [books to read for 13 year olds txt] 📗

than

killing you!” declared Dale, grimly, and he closed a huge

fist on his knee.

 

Helen was utterly astounded.

 

“How horrible!” she gasped out. “Make off with me! …

What in Heaven’s name for?”

 

Bo gave vent to a fierce little utterance.

 

“For reasons you ought to guess,” replied Dale, and he

leaned forward again. Neither his voice nor face changed in

the least, but yet there was a something about him that

fascinated Helen. “I’m a hunter. I live in the woods. A few

nights ago I happened to be caught out in a storm an’ I took

to an old log cabin. Soon as I got there I heard horses. I

hid up in the loft. Some men rode up an’ come in. It was

dark. They couldn’t see me. An’ they talked. It turned out

they were Snake Anson an’ his gang of sheep-thieves. They

expected to meet Beasley there. Pretty soon he came. He told

Anson how old Al, your uncle, was on his last legs — how he

had sent for you to have his property when he died. Beasley

swore he had claims on Al. An’ he made a deal with Anson to

get you out of the way. He named the day you were to reach

Magdalena. With Al dead an’ you not there, Beasley could get

the property. An’ then he wouldn’t care if you did come to

claim it. It ‘d be too late… . Well, they rode away that

night. An’ next day I rustled down to Pine. They’re all my

friends at Pine, except old Al. But they think I’m queer. I

didn’t want to confide in many people. Beasley is strong in

Pine, an’ for that matter I suspect Snake Anson has other

friends there besides Beasley. So I went to see your uncle.

He never had any use for me because he thought I was lazy

like an Indian. Old Al hates lazy men. Then we fell out —

or he fell out — because he believed a tame lion of mine

had killed some of his sheep. An’ now I reckon that Tom

might have done it. I tried to lead up to this deal of

Beasley’s about you, but old Al wouldn’t listen. He’s cross

— very cross. An’ when I tried to tell him, why, he went

right out of his head. Sent me off the ranch. Now I reckon

you begin to see what a pickle I was in. Finally I went to

four friends I could trust. They’re Mormon boys — brothers.

That’s Joe out on top, with the driver. I told them all

about Beasley’s deal an’ asked them to help me. So we

planned to beat Anson an’ his gang to Magdalena. It happens

that Beasley is as strong in Magdalena as he is in Pine. An’

we had to go careful. But the boys had a couple of friends

here — Mormons, too, who agreed to help us. They had this

old stage… . An’ here you are.” Dale spread out his big

hands and looked gravely at Helen and then at Bo.

 

“You’re perfectly splendid!” cried Bo, ringingly. She was

white; her fingers were clenched; her eyes blazed.

 

Dale appeared startled out of his gravity, and surprised,

then pleased. A smile made his face like a boy’s. Helen felt

her body all rigid, yet slightly trembling. Her hands were

cold. The horror of this revelation held her speechless. But

in her heart she echoed Bo’s exclamation of admiration and

gratitude.

 

“So far, then,” resumed Dale, with a heavy breath of relief.

“No wonder you’re upset. I’ve a blunt way of talkin’… .

Now we’ve thirty miles to ride on this Snowdrop road before

we can turn off. To-day sometime the rest of the boys —

Roy, John, an’ Hal — were to leave Show Down, which’s a

town farther on from Snowdrop. They have my horses an’ packs

besides their own. Somewhere on the road we’ll meet them —

to-night, maybe — or tomorrow. I hope not to-night, because

that ‘d mean Anson’s gang was ridin’ in to Magdalena.”

 

Helen wrung her hands helplessly.

 

“Oh, have I no courage?” she whispered.

 

“Nell, I’m as scared as you are,” said Bo, consolingly,

embracing her sister.

 

“I reckon that’s natural,” said Dale, as if excusing them.

“But, scared or not, you both brace up. It’s a bad job. But

I’ve done my best. An’ you’ll be safer with me an’ the

Beeman boys than you’d be in Magdalena, or anywhere else,

except your uncle’s.”

 

“Mr. — Mr. Dale,” faltered Helen, with her tears falling,

“don’t think me a coward — or — or ungrateful. I’m

neither. It’s only I’m so — so shocked. After all we hoped

and expected — this — this — is such a — a terrible

surprise.”

 

“Never mind, Nell dear. Let’s take what comes,” murmured Bo.

 

“That’s the talk,” said Dale. “You see, I’ve come right out

with the worst. Maybe we’ll get through easy. When we meet

the boys we’ll take to the horses an’ the trails. Can you

ride?”

 

“Bo has been used to horses all her life and I ride fairly

well,” responded Helen. The idea of riding quickened her

spirit.

 

“Good! We may have some hard ridin’ before I get you up to

Pine. Hello! What’s that?”

 

Above the creaking, rattling, rolling roar of the stage

Helen heard a rapid beat of hoofs. A horse flashed by,

galloping hard.

 

Dale opened the door and peered out. The stage rolled to a

halt. He stepped down and gazed ahead.

 

“Joe, who was that?” he queried.

 

“Nary me. An’ Bill didn’t know him, either,” replied Joe. “I

seen him ‘way back. He was ridin’ some. An’ he slowed up

goin’ past us. Now he’s runnin’ again.”

 

Dale shook his head as if he did not like the circumstances.

 

“Milt, he’ll never get by Roy on this road,” said Joe.

 

“Maybe he’ll get by before Roy strikes in on the road.”

 

“It ain’t likely.”

 

Helen could not restrain her fears. “Mr. Dale, you think he

was a messenger — going ahead to post that — that Anson

gang?”

 

“He might be,” replied Dale, simply.

 

Then the young man called Joe leaned out from the seat above

and called: “Miss Helen, don’t you worry. Thet fellar is

more liable to stop lead than anythin’ else.”

 

His words, meant to be kind and reassuring, were almost as

sinister to Helen as the menace to her own life. Long had

she known how cheap life was held in the West, but she had

only known it abstractly, and she had never let the fact

remain before her consciousness. This cheerful young man

spoke calmly of spilling blood in her behalf. The thought it

roused was tragic — for bloodshed was insupportable to her

— and then the thrills which followed were so new, strange,

bold, and tingling that they were revolting. Helen grew

conscious of unplumbed depths, of instincts at which she was

amazed and ashamed.

 

“Joe, hand down that basket of grub — the small one with

the canteen,” said Dale, reaching out a long arm. Presently

he placed a cloth-covered basket inside the stage. “Girls,

eat all you want an’ then some.”

 

“We have a basket half full yet,” replied Helen.

 

“You’ll need it all before we get to Pine… . Now, I’ll

ride up on top with the boys an’ eat my supper. It’ll be

dark, presently, an’ we’ll stop often to listen. But don’t

be scared.”

 

With that he took his rifle and, closing the door, clambered

up to the driver’s seat. Then the stage lurched again and

began to roll along.

 

Not the least thing to wonder at of this eventful evening

was the way Bo reached for the basket of food. Helen simply

stared at her.

 

“Bo, you CAN’T EAT!” she exclaimed.

 

“I should smile I can,” replied that practical young lady.

“And you’re going to if I have to stuff things in your

mouth. Where’s your wits, Nell? He said we must eat. That

means our strength is going to have some pretty severe

trials… . Gee! it’s all great — just like a story! The

unexpected — why, he looks like a prince turned hunter! —

long, dark, stage journey — held up — fight — escape —

wild ride on horses — woods and camps and wild places —

pursued — hidden in the forest — more hard rides — then

safe at the ranch. And of course he falls madly in love with

me — no, you, for I’ll be true to my Las Vegas lover —”

 

“Hush, silly! Bo, tell me, aren’t you SCARED?”

 

“Scared! I’m scared stiff. But if Western girls stand such

things, we can. No Western girl is going to beat ME!”

 

That brought Helen to a realization of the brave place she

had given herself in dreams, and she was at once ashamed of

herself and wildly proud of this little sister.

 

“Bo, thank Heaven I brought you with me!” exclaimed Helen,

fervently. “I’ll eat if it chokes me.”

 

Whereupon she found herself actually hungry, and while she

ate she glanced out of the stage, first from one side and

then from the other. These windows had no glass and they let

the cool night air blow in. The sun had long since sunk. Out

to the west, where a bold, black horizon-line swept away

endlessly, the sky was clear gold, shading to yellow and

blue above. Stars were out, pale and wan, but growing

brighter. The earth appeared bare and heaving, like a calm

sea. The wind bore a fragrance new to Helen, acridly sweet

and clean, and it was so cold it made her fingers numb.

 

“I heard some animal yelp,” said Bo, suddenly, and she

listened with head poised.

 

But Helen heard nothing save the steady clipclop of hoofs,

the clink of chains, the creak and rattle of the old stage,

and occasionally the low voices of the men above.

 

When the girls had satisfied hunger and thirst, night had

settled down black. They pulled the cloaks up over them, and

close together leaned back in a corner of the seat and

talked in whispers. Helen did not have much to say, but Bo

was talkative.

 

“This beats me!” she said once, after an interval. “Where

are we, Nell? Those men up there are Mormons. Maybe they are

abducting us!”

 

“Mr. Dale isn’t a Mormon,” replied Helen.

 

“How do you know?”

 

“I could tell by the way he spoke of his friends.”

 

“Well, I wish it wasn’t so dark. I’m not afraid of men in

daylight… . Nell, did you ever see such a wonderful

looking fellow? What’d they call him? Milt — Milt Dale. He

said he lived in the woods. If I hadn’t fallen in love with

that cowboy who called me — well, I’d be a goner now.”

 

After an interval of silence Bo whispered, startlingly,

“Wonder if Harve Riggs is following us now?”

 

“Of course he is,” replied Helen, hopelessly.

 

“He’d better look out. Why, Nell, he never saw — he never

— what did Uncle Al used to call it? — sav — savvied —

that’s it. Riggs never savvied that hunter. But I did, you

bet.”

 

“Savvied! What do you mean, Bo?”

 

“I mean that long-haired galoot never saw his real danger.

But I felt it. Something went light inside me. Dale never

took him seriously at all.”

 

“Riggs will turn up at Uncle Al’s, sure as I’m born,” said

Helen.

 

“Let him turn,” replied Bo, contemptuously. “Nell,