CHAPTER XXIII
AT THE REVOLVER'S POINT
Glen awoke early the next morning, tired and depressed. She had sleptbut little during the night, for her old fears had returned as sherecalled the dream and Klota's warning. Her excitement over Reynolds'story assisted, too, in driving sleep from her eyes, and she picturedhim on the field of battle, with shells dropping on every side. He wasthe one who stood out in clear relief above all others. To her he wasthe hero in every scene, and she saw all looking to him for inspirationand guidance. The glamor of love and hero-worship enwrapped her awilling victim in its enchanting embrace.
Reynolds was quick to notice the tired expression in Glen's eyes andthe lack of color in her cheeks as she came forth from her room andtook her place at the table.
"What's wrong, dear?" her father anxiously enquired. "Didn't you sleepwell?"
"I didn't sleep at all, daddy. Perhaps it was yesterday's excitementwhich kept me awake."
"Then, you must not go with us to-day, Glen. You stay here, and Scondacan remain with you. That will delight the old fellow, for he has beentrying to invent some excuse for not going. In fact, he doesn't wantme to go, either, and suggested that we all should return at once toGlen West."
"Why, what was his reason?" and Glen looked her surprise.
"Reason! Did you ever know an Indian to have a reason for anything?He acts from instinct or superstition, and the latter is what ailsSconda now. Klota has been telling him some bosh about a presentimentshe had, that something terrible is going to happen to us out here inthe hills."
"And does Sconda believe it, too?" Glen asked, controlling her feelingswith a great effort.
"Certainly he believes it. I laughed at him, and told him that heshould have more sense than to pay any attention to such things."
"But suppose he should be right?" Glen queried. "The natives, youknow, see things at times which are not revealed to us."
"They see too many things, and that's the great trouble with them,"Weston replied. "If they would dream less and do more it would be farbetter for all concerned. I never had any faith in their fantasticpresentiments, and I am too old to change my views now. But Scondamight as well stay with you to-day, for I do not wish to leave youalone, and I am not anxious to have the old rascal with me with hishead filled with such nonsense."
Glen made no further reply to her father. She was well aware howuseless it would be to try to reason with him, and if she told himabout the dream and her fears he would laugh at her, and consider herchildish and foolish.
When breakfast was over, the men began to prepare for their day's trip.This did not take them long, and soon they were all ready for theirdeparture. They decided to leave the horses behind, as there was notrail, and their course would take them over several hills where ridingwould be impossible. They took only their rifles, while Natsu packedthe scanty supply of food necessary for the day.
"We expect to be back by sundown," Weston informed Glen. "But shouldwe be delayed, do not worry as we shall be all right. We may be longerthan we imagine in reaching the place, and if we discover the gold, wemay take leave of our senses for a time and forget everything else.But Sconda will look after you, and there is plenty of reading matterto keep you out of mischief."
As Weston stooped and kissed his daughter, he noted that she clung tohim more tenderly than formerly, and that her body trembled slightly.Thinking that this was due to her lack of sleep, he did not give it anyattention, but telling her to take a nap through the day, he picked uphis rifle and strode off into the forest.
Reynolds was more deeply concerned about Glen's wearied look than herfather, and after they had gone a short distance he spoke of it.
"She is tired, that's all," was the reply. "A good sleep will make herall right again."
"Perhaps she is worried about what Sconda said."
"She may be, but she will soon get over that. It is a great mistake tohumor people in such nonsense. I have often talked to Glen, but Icannot help feeling that the native beliefs have made a considerableimpression upon her mind. She has been with them so much that Isuppose it is only natural."
Reynolds said no more, but all through the day Glen's tired face andanxious eyes were ever before him. How he longed to go back and staywith her. The lure of gold had now lost its fascination for him, andhe could only think of the girl in the little cabin by the mirroringlake.
Glen stood at the window and watched the men as they swung on theirway, until the forest hid them from view. She could see them for somedistance while they followed the shore before striking across a wildmeadow at the upper end of the lake. She remained there for severalminutes after they had disappeared. She felt very tired, lonely andunhappy. She thought of her father's words, and they hurt her. Sheknew that he loved her, but for all that she was fully convinced thathe did not understand her. She longed then, as she had often longed inthe past, for her mother, in whom she could confide the deep, sacredemotions of her heart. Her eyes became misty, and tears stole slowlydown her cheeks.
A step in the room startled her, and looking somewhat guiltily around,she saw Sconda advancing toward her. The Indian was excited more thanusual, at which Glen wondered, for she had never seen him so agitatedbefore.
"See, see!" and he pointed out of the window up toward the wild meadow.
"What is it?" Glen asked, brushing away her tears in an effort to seemore clearly.
"White man! Running, all same wolf. Ugh!"
Glen looked, and saw a man speeding across the meadow right on thetrail of her father and Reynolds. Instantly she grasped its meaning,and with a cry of fear she turned to the Indian.
"Is it Curly?" she gasped. "Do you think he means any harm?"
"Curly follow Big White Chief," was the reply. "Curly track white man.Bimeby Curly shoot."
"Oh! do you think so?" Glen clasped her hands before her, while hereyes grew big with apprehension. "What can we do? I know. You goafter that man, and stop him. Never mind me, for I am all right.Look," and she thrust her hand into the bosom of her riding-dress andbrought forth her revolver. "I can shoot and take care of myself. Goat once and save daddy and Mr. Reynolds."
Sconda needed no second bidding, for he was anxious to be away. Hisfears had vanished at the presence of the skulking enemy, and no matterhow he might tremble at the thought of unseen ghostly foes, he wasnever known to flinch before the face of a living earthly being. Glenknew that he was the finest trailsman in the north, and she felt moresatisfied as she watched him, rifle in hand, disappear amid the trees.
For some time she stood at the window, straining her eyes to see Scondareappear and cross the wild meadow. But she watched in vain, for thenative had taken another route, which, though rougher, was less exposedto view.
Glen was about to turn away from the window, when, happening to glanceto her left, she saw someone coming from the lake toward the house.She recognized him immediately. It was Curly! At first she imaginedthat she must be dreaming, for was not Curly away on the trail of herfather and Reynolds? What did it all mean? Sconda must have beenmistaken, for there was the villain walking cautiously from the shore.Intuitively Glen placed her hand to her heart, as if to stop its wildbeating, while she tried to think of some way of escape. What shouldshe do? Where could she go? she frantically asked herself. But shemust not remain there, for she was well aware of the purpose of Curly'svisit. He had planned a plot with the assistance of someone as vile ashimself, and had caught her in his trap. But he should not take her inthe house, and she knew it would be useless to fasten the door againsthim. She would meet him in the open, and if it came to the worst sheknew what she could do. Her hand touched her heaving bosom where therevolver was resting, and it somewhat calmed her fears, and inspiredher with courage.
Swiftly crossing the room, she reached the open door and steppedoutside just when Curly was but a few yards away. He stopped,surprised at the girl's unexpected appearance. He noted her a
gitation,and his lips parted in a grin, such as a wolf might assume when aboutto pounce upon an innocent lamb. It was this grin which dispelledGlen's fear and aroused in her breast an intense anger. As she lookedupon the dirty and unkempt creature before her, and thought of the meanadvantage he was taking of a woman, the paleness left her face and hercheeks crimsoned with indignation. Why should she become a victim tosuch a vile thing?
Glen was perfectly composed now, and looked Curly steadily in the eyes.She had no intention of parleying with the villain, and the sooner herealised her mettle the better it would be.
"What do you want?" she demanded. "My father is not here, if you wishto see him."
"It's you I want to see," Curly replied with a grin.
"What do you want to see me for?" Glen's words were so cold, firm andbusiness-like that Curly was somewhat taken aback.
"Oh, I just thought I would drop around an' see ye, that's all," heprevaricated.
"Well, you might have saved yourself the trouble, for I don't want tosee you."
"Ye don't, eh?" Curly snarled, for the girl's words stung him. "Idon't care whether ye do or not. It's not what you want, but what Iwant."
"What do you mean by those words?"
"I guess ye ought to know. Didn't I tell ye at the dance that I loveye?"
"Love me!" and Glen's eyes flashed. "Do you know the meaning of theword love? I suppose you told the same to many girls you have ruined."
"I never loved anyone as I love you," the villain whined.
"I suppose I should be flattered, but I am not. I don't want what youcall your love, or anything to do with you."
"D'ye mean that yer goin' to throw me over?"
"Throw you over! I don't understand you."
"Yes, throw me over fer that slick guy you're so chummy with. Isuppose he's been tellin' ye what a bad man I am, an' so turned yeagainst me."
"What right have you to say that? You were never anything to me exceptjust what you are, a creature capable of almost any deed of villainy.I only met you two or three times in my life, and why should youpresume to think that you had won my affection?"
"Well, if ye think I'm bad to the core, I will soon show you that I am.It's no use, I see, to beat about the bush any longer. If I can't getyou one way I will another, an' I'll have you ahead of that d---- guywho has won your heart. You're here alone with me, remember, an'that's all I want."
Curly had thrown aside all pretense now, and his face bore an uglyexpression as he stepped quickly forward. But it was only a step ortwo he took, for he stopped short with a surprised jerk when he beheldthe menacing point of a revolver directed straight at his head. Thehand that held the weapon was firm, and the blaze in Glen's eyes wassufficient warning. This was more than he had expected, and he knewnot what to do.
"Keep back," the girl ordered.
"Surely ye wouldn't shoot, Miss?" the brute whimpered.
"Take another step forward and you'll soon find out." The voice wasstern and business-like.
"But I won't harm ye."
"No, indeed you won't. I'll see to that."
"I was only foolin'," the wretch lied. "I didn't mean anything."
"Well, I'm not fooling, and I mean what I say. You thought in yourbase heart that I would be an easy victim, didn't you? But you nowknow that Glen Weston has some of her father's spirit. She can shoot,too, and if you doubt it, just try any more of your nonsense."
Curly was in a trap, and when he found that this slip of a girl wasmore than his match he started to give vent to his rage in vile,insolent language.
"Stop that," Glen sternly ordered. "It is bad enough to have you herewithout having to listen to such language. Stop; I say," she againcommanded, as Curly was about to continue. "Yes, I mean it, so youneedn't doubt my word. And you might as well put your hands together.Hurry up; I give you two seconds. You are not to be trusted."
Slowly Curly obeyed, and stood before the girl, his hands clasped, andcompletely subdued. A smile of victory flitted across Glen's face,though her eyes and mouth were expressive of the deepest scorn.
"You didn't expect this, did you?" she bantered.
"Expect what?"
"To be standing so meekly before a woman. You imagined that she wouldbe doing that to you."
"You're not a woman," Curly growled; "you're a she-devil."
"Oh, so you've changed your opinion of me," and Glen laughed. "I amvery glad of that, for you won't be crazy about me any more."
"Crazy! Your face an' figure would drive any man crazy."
"Dear me, do I look as horrible as all that? It's a wonder you are nota raving lunatic."
"I will if you keep me here much longer. Let me go an' I'll nevertrouble you again. That slick guy can have you fer all I care. Idon't want anything to do with a woman who holds ye up at the point ofa gun."
"No, I am sure you don't, Curly. You prefer to prey upon women who arehelpless, and who cannot lift a hand in self-defense. But I amdifferent, as you have found out to your cost."
"Let me go, will ye?" the wretch pleaded. "I've had enough of this."
"Oh, have you, eh? Well, that's interesting. But, look here, I am notthrough with you yet. You came here without any invitation, though ina way I am glad that you did come, and I intend to keep you here for awhile."
"H'm, ye must like my company after all," Curly sneered. "You're aqueer one."
"Yes, I like your company at present better than your absence," Glenconfessed. "I know just where you are, and that you can do no mischiefwhile you are under my charge. If I should let you go now it would bean injustice to others. You must settle this affair with my father,and you know what that will mean."
"I'm not worryin' about yer dad, or anyone else," Curly replied."He'll have all he can attend to without botherin' about me. Mostlikely he's in a hotter place now than ever he struck on earth."
Into Glen's eyes leaped an expression of wild fear, as the meaning ofCurly's words dawned upon her.
"Ye understand?" Curly sneered. "Two can play at this game, remember,an' mebbe more'n two."
"Was that your partner who followed my father?"
"Sure. It was Dan, an' he means business."
"What business?"
"Oh, Dan'll tell ye when he comes back."
"Do you mean that he intends to shoot my father and Mr. Reynolds?"
"Mr. Reynolds!" Curly mockingly repeated. "Yes, Mr. Reynolds, too."
Glen's outstretched arm was tired, but these words renewed herstrength, and her fingers clutched more firmly the butt of therevolver. Curly was fully aware that the girl was becoming wrought upto a high pitch of excitement, and he regretted that he had told heranything about Dan. What might not this girl do? he asked himself. Infact he was very near death just then, for Glen in her agitation wasunconsciously pressing the trigger slightly with her forefinger. ButCurly knew, and his face blanched.
"Fer God's sake, be careful what yer doin'!" he screamed. "That gun'llgo off, if ye don't look out!"
"Perhaps it might be well if it did," was the reply. "I am stronglytempted to shoot you where you stand. But I guess I will wait untilSconda comes back. And then, remember, if my father and Mr. Reynoldsare dead, you die, and at my hands at that. You can remain just whereyou are, and I shall guard you, even if I have to wait here all day."
"But I can't stand here," Curly whined. "Let me sit down."
"No, you must stay just where you are, and keep your hands clasped. Ishall sit down, though," and Glen seated herself upon the doorstep.
Curly started to remonstrate, but was sternly checked.
"I do not wish to hear anything more," Glen emphatically told him."You can keep your thoughts and your words to yourself. And do notannoy me, or I might lose control of myself and do something rash."
Seeing that the girl was thoroughly in earnest, Curly said no more, butstood there with his eyes fixed straight forward. The only time Glenspoke was whenever she detected his
look wavering in the slightestdegree. Then she called him sharply to attention, and warned him to bemindful of what he was doing.
Thus slowly and wearily the morning wore away. With nerves strung tothe highest tension, Glen guarded her prisoner, at the same timelistening anxiously for the sound of Sconda's returning footsteps.