CHAPTER XI.
The girl had been dreading just such news as her mother had revealed,yet since the conversation with the Squire the day Sally had sounwillingly ridden with him from town, she had been hourly expecting it.Now that the ill news had really come, her present uneasiness was notaltogether on her mother's account, nor her own. It was probable thather sweetheart was now affiliated with the band of raiders, yet if thiswas true, it seemed a little strange that the New Pike gate was the oneto be attacked.
When Sally sat down to her sewing a little later, after her varioushousehold duties had been attended to for the evening, her thoughts werevery far removed from her present work, and she was much more troubledand perplexed in spirit and mind than she cared to show.
At the time she had heard the talk between the Squire and his unknowninformant, it was evident that Milton Derr had not then joined theraiders, but from the trend of that conversation it seemed likely hewould soon become a member of the band. He was evidently debating thefeasibility of joining them. Had he done so, and was he now powerless tochange or divert their plans?
It was not alone the news that the gate would be attacked which wastroubling the girl, but the further information her mother had giventhat the plans of the raiders were known, and the Squire was even thenin town organizing a posse to resist the attack and capture the band.
Supposing her sweetheart was now a member of it, and some subtleintuition was urging her to such belief, what would be the outcome of itall? This then was the trap the Squire was adroitly laying for hisnephew. She had warned Milt of the danger, but had he heeded? The bandwas probably composed of men he knew well, and was doubtless gatheredfrom the ready material to be found among the rugged hills wherein hedwelt.
There had ever seemed to exist among these people a certain wild spiritof adventure and reckless daring, which one naturally imbibed alongwith the very air of these free remote hills, and the Squire's nephewwas of that restive nature too easily attracted by anything savoring ofexcitement or danger, such as these lawless escapades might readilyfurnish.
On recalling a talk she had held with her sweetheart the Sunday eveningbefore, when they rode together from Alder Creek meeting-house, she feltthat her very own words may have had some weight in influencing him tocast his fortunes with the raiders. Though she warned him of such acourse, yet in almost the same breath she told him of the Squire'sprediction that the New Pike gate would be wrecked, leaving her motherand herself homeless, but she wisely said nothing about the Squire'soffer of marriage, deeming it prudent to remain silent on this point forthe present, at least.
She had appealed to the nephew to do what he could to prevent thedestruction of the New Pike gate, and had meant to enlist his aid onlyso far as the exercising of his influence over any personal friends whomight belong to the band of raiders.
As things now stood, a great danger lay in the fact that the posse ofmen now being gathered together in town, would probably make speedy waron those who threatened destruction to the gate. There would doubtlessbe fighting, some might be killed, wounded or taken prisoners, and hersweetheart was as liable to be among the first as the latter, if he werea raider. What great relief it would be at this moment to know that hewas not connected with those who had lately declared warfare on thetoll-gates throughout the country!
If she could but manage to see him, even for a brief moment, a simpleword of warning might avert serious trouble. There was still left her afaint chance for such warning to be given, for Milton Derr had gone totown that morning, and she had not seen him return, though it might bethat he had passed the gate on his homeward way, while she was busiedwith her household duties.
She felt a growing eagerness to know if her mother had seen him pass,yet dared not ask. Finally she decided on a little subterfuge.
"Dear me!" she cried, suddenly pausing in her work and glancing at hermother inquiringly, "I forgot to send Phrony that skirt pattern sheasked me to hunt for her. Has every one passed living up that way?"
"I s'pose they have," answered Mrs. Brown grumpily. "It's gettin' late,an' if the country folks ain't at home by now, they oughter be."
The girl made a show of hunting up the pattern, then sat down with itand her sewing near the front door.
Several belated travelers passed, some rather the worse for havingimbibed too freely of the cup that cheers, but the one she wished to seewas not among them. Along toward nine o'clock a small party of horsemencame galloping along the pike, loudly hallooing and firing their pistolsas they came, and for a moment the girl thought the raiders were surelyat hand.
Then quickly realizing that the cavalcade was coming not from thedirection of the hill country, but the town, and that the night was yettoo young for raiders to be abroad, she understood that it was merely adrunken crowd on their homeward way, therefore she hurried out andraised the pole, then fled into the house and blew out the light, as thehorsemen went dashing by, in a volley of shouts and oaths, like aminiature whirlwind.
Just as the clock was striking nine, and when her mother had once morefallen asleep after her recent rude awakening, the girl's attentive earcaught the sound of a horse's familiar tread, and tiptoeing lightly outon the platform, she softly closed the door behind her and awaited therider.
She was not at fault in her surmise, for the horseman was the one shehad hoped to see, and at her low summons he rode close up to theplatform where she stood, all impatient to divulge her message.
"I thought you'd never come, or else that you had already passed thegate without me seeing you!" cried Sally in an eager undertone when hedrew rein.
"I would certainly have started earlier if I'd known you were waiting,"answered the rider contritely.
"Did you know we are expecting the raiders to pay us a visit tonight?"she asked hurriedly, coming at once to the point.
"Pay this gate a visit?" queried Milt in genuine surprise that provedher words news to him.
"Yes."
"Are you quite sure about that?" he asked thoughtfully, "How do you knowit's to be this gate?"
"The Squire came by on his way to town only a little while ago, and toldmother. He's gone now to raise a posse of men to guard the gate."
"Here's trickery," thought Milt. "I was led to believe it was to be someother gate for tonight's raid, or else I've got things badly mixed. TheSquire said it was this gate?" he added aloud.
"That's what he told mother. I didn't see him. You mustn't ever tellthat I told you, never!" she insisted.
"I never will," he declared fervently. "And how did the Squire knowabout it?" he added thoughtfully.
"I don't know, likely from the man who is acting the spy for him."
"I wonder who that man can be?"
"I don't know, but the Squire's got somebody in his pay who is not onlyspying on the raiders but on you also. He's acting a double part."
"And you say the gate is to be guarded tonight?"
"Yes, the guards will be here soon."
"Well, perhaps that may scare the raiders away," said the young manreassuringly. "I'm awful glad you told me about it."
"I thought you ought to know," said Sally in a low tone, "for perhapsyou have friends that might be interested in such news."
"This gate shall never be molested as long as I can do anything toprevent it," said Milton Derr earnestly, bending sideways until his armencircled the waist of the pretty toll-taker on the platform; "and if itever is, you can understand that I am powerless to save it. Good night,sweetheart!"