CHAPTER XVIII.
HELEN IN THE MOUNTAINS.
It was snowing. The flakes that fell were not large fluffy ones; theywere small and compact, so that as the northwest wind drove them intoHelen's face, she realized that she was being pelted with somethingmore substantial than eiderdown.
The severity of the storm startled the girl. It spurred her to afuller consciousness of her obligation to her friends, that she removefrom their minds all occasion for worry as to her whereabouts as soonas possible.
Putting her muff up to shield her face from the cutting blast, Helenset out bravely up the street. She was not a timid or timorous girl.In fact, the words of warning uttered by her sister-in-law had made nolasting impression on her mind, so far as her own personal safety wasconcerned. She scarcely thought of looking out for danger from anyhuman agency as she left the house.
As the storm was beating into her face, she did not attempt to lookahead much farther than each step as it was taken. It was necessaryfor her to lean forward slightly and push her head, as it were, rightinto the storm, and before she had reached the nearest corner itbecame evident that she must undergo no little inconvenience, if notactual suffering, before her evening's mission were completed.
"Well, maybe this exercise will give me just the life I need to talkreal business to Dave when he comes," she mused, punctuating herconjecture with a gasp or two as she fought against a gust of windthat forced her almost to a standstill. Winning this skirmish with thestorm, she pressed forward again, when suddenly another gasp wasforced from her by an entirely different cause. She almost stumbledover an object directly in her way, and as she recovered herequilibrium she recognized before her the form of a small girlscantily clad in a short-sleeved coat much too small for her and ahood that came down scarcely far enough to cover her ears. Her handswere bare and she held them up pitifully before the comfortably--toher richly--clad maiden so out of her element in this poverty-strickendistrict.
"Please, Miss," the girl pleaded; "won't you come and help me? Ma'ssick--she fainted--and pa's gone away. I'm all alone with her. Ma'sdown on the floor an' don't move--I'm afraid she's dead. Oh, please docome, Miss, just a minute, and--"
"Where do you live?" Helen interrupted, indicating by her tone ofsympathy that she would do as requested.
"Right there," the little girl replied, pointing with her hand towardone of the houses a short distance ahead. "Come on, please. Just aminute--help me get ma on the bed. I'll find one of the neighbors tohelp after that."
"All right, go ahead," Helen directed.
"It seems that I am fated to do at least a little of the work that weset out to do, but were prevented from doing by some unfriendlyinterests. It's a pity some of these people are so prejudiced, for wecould really do a lot for them."
Helen's small conductress led the way to the entrance of a miner'scottage that, to all outward appearance from the front, was darkwithin.
"Haven't you any light?" she asked a little apprehensively, drawingback as if hesitating to enter.
"Oh, yes," the other replied almost eagerly, it seemed. "There's alamp burning in the kitchen, and I'll light the gas in the front room.Come on, please."
"Where is your mother?"
"She's layin' down on the floor in the kitchen. Come on, I've got amatch. I'll light the gas in the front room."
If Helen had obeyed a strong impulse that was tugging within her tohold her back, she would have refused to enter. Perhaps the reason shedid not obey that impulse was the fact that a desperate effort tothink of another reasonable method of procedure was fruitless and shemust either go ahead as she had started or turn away in confusion andleave the little girl in her distress and without an explanation. Thelatter opened the door and Helen followed her inside.
It was difficult for the visiting Camp Fire girl to figure out anyreason why she should be fearful of anything this slip of a childmight do, and yet the first act of the latter after they were insidesent through her a chill of terror. Slipping around her like an eel,the little emissary of trouble pushed the door to and turned the keyin the lock. Helen was certain also that she heard the key withdrawnfrom the lock.
Still her conductress, clever little confidence girl that she was,spoke words of reassurance that dispelled some of her victim's fears.
"Wait," she said; "I dropped my match. I'll have to go in the kitchenfor another."
Helen's eyes followed the dim form of the child, as the latter movedacross the room, and observed for the first time a line of light underwhat appeared to be a door between the front room and the kitchen. Amoment later the door swung open, and she was considerably relievedwhen she saw lying on the floor the apparently limp and unconsciousform of a woman.
Instantly the rescuer's Camp Fire training in the reviving of a personfrom a faint stimulated in her a sort of professional interest in thetask before her, and she started forward to begin work at once. Firstshe must loosen her patient's clothing to make it as easy as possiblefor her to breathe. Then she must get her in a supine position withher head slightly lower than any other part of her body in order thatthe brain might get a plentiful supply of blood. The air in the housewas heavy and stuffy--the front and rear doors must be thrown open.She must dash cold water upon the face and chest of the patient andrub her limbs toward her body. She ought to have some smelling saltsor ammonia, but as these were lacking she must get along without them,unless the daughter of the unconscious woman were able to supplysomething of the sort.
These things flashed through Helen's well-trained mind as she movedrapidly toward the kitchen. All apprehension of treachery left her asshe beheld the evidence corroborating the story of distress that hadbrought her into the house. Then suddenly the whole apparent situationwas transformed into one of the most terrifying character.
A slight noise to her right caused her to turn. Then a piercing screamescaped her lips as she saw a door open and beheld the dim outlines oftwo burly men approaching her. At the sound of her cry of alarm, theydashed forward like two wild beasts.
The first one seized her around the neck to shut off further alarm. Asthose muscular fingers closed in upon her throat, it seemed suddenlyas if her head were about to burst. Then as the thumping in her earsalmost completed the deadening of her auditory nerves, sheindistinctly heard these words uttered in a hoarse voice:
"Look out, Bill; don't kill her."
As if surprised back into his senses, "Bill" loosened his hold onHelen's throat. She did not struggle or attempt to cry out again.Evidently the purpose of the ruffians did not contemplate murder, andshe realized that there was no wisdom in anything but submission onher part now.
But she was not given time to recover completely before the next moveof her captors was made. While one of them held her in a vise-likegrip, the other shoved a gag into her mouth and tied the attachedstrings tightly around the base of her head. Then he bound her handstogether in front of her with a strip of cloth.
"There," said the man whom the other had addressed as Bill, "you setdown in that chair and keep still and you won't get hurt. But theinstant you go to makin' any racket you're liable to breathe yourlast. All right, Jake, go and get the machine."
"Jake!" The exclamation, though not uttered, was real enough in hermind. Even with the deafening pulse of choking confusion in her head,it had seemed that there was something familiar in the man's voicewhen he warned "Bill" not to kill her. Was it possible that this wasMr. Stanlock's former automobile driver?
Jake went out the back way, closing the door between the front roomand the kitchen as he went. Helen was now left alone in darkness withBill, who, she thankfully observed, seemed disposed to pay noattention to her so long as she remained quietly in the oldloose-jointed rockingchair in which she was seated.
Ten minutes later an automobile drove up in front of the house andJake reappeared.
"It's almost stopped snowing, luckily," he remarked, "or we'd have ourtroubles makin' this trip tonight. A little more snow and a littlemore
drifting and we'd be in a pretty pickle."
Helen was certain she recognized Jake's voice now. How she wished shecould get a glimpse of his face in even the poorest candle light.
Bill now threw a large shawl over her head and brought it around sothat it concealed both the gag over her mouth and the rag manacle onher wrists. Then he pinned it carefully so that it might not slipawry, and ordered her to go with him quietly out to the automobile.Jake had just made an inspection up and down the street and reportedthe coast clear.
"Now, mind you, young lady," Bill warned significantly; "not a word ora wiggle out o' the ordinary or you'll get your final choke, and youknow what that means."
Yes, Helen knew, and she had no intention of futilely provoking arepetition of such punishment. She accompanied her captorssubmissively and was assisted into the machine. Then somethinghappened which might almost be said to have delighted her if it werenot for the strain of benumbing fear that was gripping her.
Jake went around in front of the machine to crank it. For one momentthe strong acetylene light from one of the lamps fell full upon hisface. Helen recognized it. Her surmise as to his identity was not amistake.
A minute later the automobile was traveling at a high rate of speedover the streets. Ten minutes later it passed the city limits and waskicking the three inches of snow up along a country highway. On, on itsped, one mile, two miles, on, on, until the probable distance Helenwas unable to conjecture, on, on, over smooth roads and rough roads,up hill and down hill, into the mountains. Then suddenly "Bill," whosat in the seat beside her, pulled a light-weight muffler from hispocket and tied it over Helen's eyes, saying coarsely:
"Not that I'm afraid you'll do any mischief with those pretty eyes ofyours, but we may as well guard against accidents. You couldn't tracethis route again, anyway, could you?"
Helen did not attempt to answer with either a shake or a nod of herhead. She was disappointed at the act of her captor in blindfoldingher, for she had been watching their course as closely as possible inorder to photograph it upon her mind for future reference.
Jake was a good driver--that much must be said for him; and yet, afterthey struck the mountain road the progress was much slower. From thetime when her eyes were bandaged, Helen's only means of determiningthe character of the road over which they were traveling was the speedor slowness of the automobile. Nor could she compute satisfactorilythe time that passed during the rest of the trip.
But it ended at last. The machine stopped, Helen knew not where, andshe was assisted out by the two men, who led her, still blindfolded,along a fairly smooth trail, up the side of a mountain or steep hill,then along a fairly level stretch, until at last the prisoner knewthat she was passing under a canopy or roof of some sort, for therewas no snow under foot. Moreover their footfalls produced a sound,somewhat of the nature of a soft resonant reverberation of a milliontiny echoes.
But presently they were out in the open again, as evidenced by thesnow and the brisker atmosphere, and Helen shrewdly observed toherself:
"That was a tunnel, I bet anything."
Two hundred feet farther up another gentle incline they reached aplace of habitation and entered. Helen had no idea as to theappearance of the exterior, but when the bandage was removed from hereyes, and she was able to look about her, she made a clever surmise,not very far from the truth, that she was in a log cabin.
Every inch of the walls and ceiling, except the windows and doors,was plastered. The doors and windows were fitted in the crudest kindof casing. A few unframed, colored pictures were pasted on the walls.The furniture of the room consisted of a few chairs, a table and anold trunk. A kerosene lamp on the table lighted the room.
"Here's one of them, Mag," said Bill, addressing a large, coarsefeatured, but remarkably shrewd-eyed woman who opened the door andreceived them. "Can you keep her safe?"
"You bet your bottom dollar I can keep her safe as long as there isany dough in it for me," was the reply in almost a man's voice.
"Well, get into good practice on this one a-keepin' prisoners," thefirst speaker advised. "We're goin' to have a dozen more here beforelong, and then you will have some job."
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