CHAPTER XIV HALLIE KIDNAPPED
Marion was wide awake. She lay beneath home-woven blankets in PatienceMadden's cabin. The room was dark. It was night; time for sleep. Themountain side was very still. Even the stream, Pounding Mill Creek,tumbling down Little Black Mountain, murmured softly.
"I should sleep," she told herself. "To-morrow is the big day. Election.Trial. One big day. Twenty-for hours must decide all."
Do coming events truly cast their shadows before them, and do theirshadows disturb us, rob us of our sleep? However that may be, Marioncould not sleep.
At last, rising noiselessly, for Patience slept peacefully in the narrowbed next to her own, she threw a blanket over her shoulders and stole outupon the porch. Here she dropped into a rustic chair to sit staringdreamily at the moon.
"Old moon," she whispered, "what do you see to-night?"
Had the moon answered her question she would have sprung to her feet inalarm. As it was, she sat quite still, sat there until with a suddenstart she caught the slow and steady tramp of horses on the trail below.
"Who--who can that be?" she whispered as she shrank far back into theshadows.
She was soon enough to know. Two horses swung around a curve in the trailnot five rods from the cabin. At that instant the moon, coming out frombehind a filmy cloud, shone full upon them.
"A tall slim man and a short one," she thought to herself. "Soundsvaguely familiar. Where have I--" She started suddenly. Florence had toldher of them. These were the men who had held her prisoner when she hadgone to the back of Pine Mountain to get an option on the Powell coaltract.
A second shock following this one came near knocking her from her chair.The tall man carried a bundle--something wrapped in a blanket.
"A child," she whispered. A chill ran up her spine. She hardly knew why.
A second later she knew. As the horses wheeled sharply to avoid a greatboulder that lay against the trail, the face of the child, lighted up bythe moon, became plainly visible.
"Little Hallie!" Marion exclaimed under her breath.
In an instant she was out of her chair and in the room shaking themountain girl and whispering hoarsely:
"Patience! Patience! Wake up! They've kidnapped little Hallie!"
"Wha--where? Why?" the mountain girl stammered, still half asleep.
Sinking down upon the bed and burying her face in her hands, Marion triedto think. Little Hallie had been kidnapped. Why? For ransom? Nothingseemed more absurd. Who would pay? The child had been poorly dressed whenshe was brought to their cabin.
"And yet," Marion thought, "what do we really know of her?"
She caught herself short up. This was no time for speculation. What wasto be done? There were no men in the cabin. She was alone with thesixteen year old mountain girl. The nearest cabin was a half mile downthe creek.
"Patience," she said suddenly, "there are no men here to follow them.They have kidnapped little Hallie. They can't mean her any good. Shall wego?"
For answer the mountain girl sprang out of the room and went racing downthe stairs.
A lamp was lighted. Rough, serviceable garments of khaki were scrambledinto, shoes were hurriedly laced. They were ready to go when Marionthought of food. They might be away for hours, perhaps days.
Snatching down a bag she raced to the kitchen, there to fill the bag withcorn pone, cold sweet potatoes, crackers, cookies and cheese.
When she returned, to her astonishment she found Patience calmly ramminghome a charge in the long-barreled squirrel rifle which had hung over thefireplace.
"Will--will it shoot?" she faltered.
"Awful straight."
"Can you shoot it?"
The mountain girl gave her a look of scorn. "In the mountains everyoneshoots."
"Good! I'm glad!" There was warmth in the girl's tone. There was comfortin knowing that though there was no man in their party, there was a riflecarried by a girl who knew well how to handle it.
A moment more and they were feeling the damp night air upon their cheeks.It was a narrow trail they were following. Now and then as they hurriedforward the dew drenched branch of dogwood or rhododendron slapped themfull in the face. Here and there some wild creature, frightened from thetrail, went bounding away into the bush.
It was spooky enough, this climbing higher and higher up the side ofLittle Black Mountain in the dead of night. Spooky and dangerous, too.What if those men, catching the sound of their footsteps behind them,should draw aside from the trail and waylay them? Marion dared not dwellon this. One thing was uppermost in her mind--the saving of LittleHallie. How was this to be done? She could not tell. The answer would bethere when the time came. At all hazards the men must be followed.
So, drenched by dripping dew, torn at by out-reaching brambles, catchingthe faint tinge of waters in the gulch far below, they ascended higherand higher until at last they had reached the crest.
"See!" whispered Patience as they rested here. "There are Hallie'sfootprints!"
It was true. Having dismounted, that they might rest their tired muscles,the men had lifted the child to the ground.
Marion found comfort in this. "They can't be entirely bad," she toldherself. "They think of the child's comfort."
A moment's rest, and they were away along the trail that followed theridge for some distance.
They marched along in silence until they came to the spot where the trailleft the ridge to plunge down the steep slope on the other side.
"Listen!" Patience whispered, suddenly gripping her companion's arm.
As they listened, breathless, from somewhere far below there came thedeep, drawn-out bay of a hound.
"See!" exclaimed the mountain girl, pointing to the ground. Where thetrail left the ridge, a fresh track had joined that of the kidnappers. Itwas the trail of a man and two huge dogs.
"Hounds!" whispered Patience. "They have hounds. Against these we have nochance. They will smell us a long way off. They will come after us. I canshoot but one. The other--" she paused to shudder.
"And yet we must go on! Think of little Hallie!"
"Yes," said the brave mountain girl, "we must go on!" Turning, she ledthe way down the mountain.