the morning following her interview with ned, mary elected to follow the round-about route of the buffalo paths. she had a desire to flee the highway and sequester herself in the friendly silences. the flashing june morning was zestful with the humours of capricious little winds that pressed refreshingly on cheeks and lips and curled the brown hair about her temples. she was gratefully aware of all this caressing though looking out on the valley with solemn eyes.
she was deep in the cogitations that pressed her continually when she realized that bobs had halted of his own accord on the bald peak.
below her the lake lay a glistening quietude in the verdant lap of the valley. vagrant breaths of tiny squalls dimpled the water here and there shading it with fleeting frowns. beneath her the storm rock hung on the glassy sheet suspended between two skies. cottonwoods and ragged oak formed an inviting bower. the island so lonely and silent had an unusual attraction for her.
"you dear little covert," she whispered. "how i should like to hide in you to-day!"
with a sigh she turned bobs down the hill and into willow glade where she must perforce halt again and muse in the precious nook with its haunting memories.
throughout the day the children of the craggs wondered at the frequent periods of preoccupation that would creep over their usually so attentive teacher. they were deeply touched by the singular gentleness with which she resumed the task. for all their mute sympathy the hours lagged strangely.
nick ford wasted no time in addressing himself to the task he had resolved upon. it is hard to travel back over the devious way one has come when that way has been too devious. to carry out his resolution would involve a divulging of most unpleasant facts. he knew of the intimate relations of mary and ned and trusted to ned finding some way of foiling the designs of the plotters once he was acquainted with the fact that there was a plot. hitching his horse he set out for the homestead with laudable dispatch.
he was bowling along, passing through a bluff not far from his destination when a shadow darted out of the trees ahead and his horse stopped abruptly. his attention was directed to the unusual movements at his horse's head when he felt a strong hand close tightly on his arm. turning with an exclamation of surprise he looked into the grinning countenance of reddy sykes.
"good-day, nick!" was the quiet greeting. "making a little morning run, eh?"
"hello, sykes!" he replied innocently. "what are you doing here?"
sykes grinned afresh.
"let it out, nick," was the reply. "you're heading for pullar's. we've been waiting for you. i saw the yellow streak in you last night. we decided to head you off. you spoke about skunks in your little spiel. you're right and we've trapped the same polecat this morning."
at the words he dragged the other from the vehicle. realizing his helplessness in the powerful hands of sykes nick decided to submit quietly to the will of his captor. taking him into the trees sykes sought to force a confession. but he found nick had no particular use for free speech just then.
"hide his horse and rig in the bluff," directed sykes, addressing foyle. "we'll gag this scab and hitch him to a tree for the present. if i make the get-away you can send somebody in to let him go."
in the depths of the bluff they gagged him and tying his hands behind his back strapped him to a big tree with his leather lines. satisfied of the security of their prisoner they slipped quietly out of sight.
during the noon hour ned joined mary in another ride in which arrangements were perfected for their sudden nuptials. resting in his arms at parting she looked up into his eyes.
"i am looking forward to our ride to-morrow, ned," said she. "but how i should have delighted to set out on the great adventure from the doorstep of mother and dad!"
"keep them back, mary!" enjoined ned cheeringly as he saw the tears shine in her eyes. wrapping his sheltering arms about her he whispered the optimism of his great heart into her fluttering spirit.
"in our heart of hearts, mary," said he, "we both deplore this premature wedding. but it is the only sane thing for us to do. your mother will agree with us when you tell her to-night. she will bless us. it is the one way of assuring your protection. i believe another desirable and most wonderful result will follow. it will break the spell sykes has cast over your father. a complete severance with sykes and the crash of his house of cards will restore your father to you clothed and in his right mind."
at the words ned felt the pressure of dear lips on his.
"thank you, ned!" were her happy words. "that is beautiful of you. and you do not hate father after all his injustice?"
"no, mary, i pity him. it is after all his greater misfortune."
"good-bye," said she at last. "it is very hopeful after all. meet me at the buffalo peak in the morning and we'll ride away into the days of our happy dreams."
ned watched from the edge of the trees until the small white figure disappeared within the schoolhouse. he was troubled as she vanished from sight. it occurred to him that she was very frail and lonely. he had a powerful impression that he should ride through the valley with her in the evening as she returned to her home. he had proposed accompanying her to the peak at least, but she had demurred. it was better that they should not be seen together. there were eyes that would draw pertinent conclusions that might wreck everything. reluctantly he turned darkey into the trail leading to the homestead.
the last few minutes with ned greatly lightened mary's spirits. she felt that a wise providence was guiding them. on the heels of her great depression there followed the ecstasy of a greater hope. even storm-clouds show a silver edge at times.
shortly after four bobs and his rider set out for home. the day had been bright, but as the afternoon sped away a belt of blue clouds appeared in the north. from distant bluffs came the murmurous roar of a rising breeze. as she topped a ridge gusts of cold wind swept up behind her and rushed past, imbuing bobs with the storm panic. he scurried down the trail at a spanking canter. very soon they rode over the crest of the cut and down into its sheltering trees. she was riding along immersed in her momentous reflections when the sudden pricking forward of bobs' ears recalled her to the task of guiding him down the ravine. the cause of his interest she discovered in a vehicle ahead. it was slowly threading the cut, evidently on its way to pellawa. she was rapidly overhauling it. while conjecturing the personnel of its passengers it wheeled out of sight about a sharp curve of the hill. she followed, cantering a moment later into a narrowed pocket of the dip. she slowed her horse, for before her the road ran over a pretty bridge, scarcely wide enough for comfort in passing a carriage. the equipage had stopped upon the bridge, crowding close to one side, leaving thus plenty of room for her to pass. sending bobs ahead she walked him upon the bridge. as she drew abreast of the vehicle she was startled to recognize chesley sykes. an alarm leaped into her breast at meeting him there, for the gulch was deep and thickly wooded. it was a hidden bit of road.
lifting his hat casually, sykes addressed her in a friendly voice.
"good-day, miss mcclure! an unexpected meeting!"
as he spoke, bobs came to an abrupt stop. mary glanced ahead. foyle stood in their path, his hands grasping the bridle rein. instantly the girl realized an ambuscade. with a low, frightened cry she plunged the spurs into bobs' flanks. blocked in front he reared, tossing his head. his wild leap lifted foyle and threw him over the railing of the bridge. a second leap and he snapped the rein out of foyle's hands, dropping him into the water beneath. he had shaken one assailant, however, only to be confronted by another.
"do not be alarmed, mary," called sykes, as he grasped the bridle. "no harm will come to you." with bobs plunging violently, the girl drew the automatic.
"let go," was her stern command, "or i'll shoot."
"blaze away, mary!" was the cool reply, as he dodged for shelter behind bobs' head.
unhesitatingly the girl pulled and the gun spat its stream of lead. in the confusion of the leaping horse and her dodging target with the effort to sit her saddle, the balls went wide. not all, however, for twice came the soft wheeze of ball piercing flesh. as the balls went home, sykes cried out, though his vigour remained unimpaired. aware that the clip was empty she dropped the gun and addressed herself to sitting the saddle and urging bobs in his furious struggles to free himself.
snorting in terror, the horse leaped into the ditch, dragging sykes with him into the trees. plunging violently the horse galloped up the hillside through the grove. mary kept her seat, bobs dodging in wild plunging leaps among the trunks, until a low limb swept across their path. she could not avoid it and it caught her full in the face, sweeping her from the saddle. the powerful rebound of the strong branch flung her to the ground, where she lay quiet, a bit of white in the shrubs.
relieved of her weight and still further terrorized, bobs tore free from sykes and whirling about, dashed down the cut. running quickly to where the still figure lay in the underbrush, sykes picked it up in his arms and carried it into a thicket of great trees. at that instant foyle ran up.
"got the girl!" he applauded.
"catch that horse," directed sykes. "if he gets away he'll bring a nest of hornets about our ears. run the carriage out of sight until we are ready. we made some change in our plans this morning. we are crossing the lake to magee's cove. the horses are waiting there. it saves us a ten-mile run about the frequented pellawa end. the boat is ready near grant's landing. i am making a further change in our plans. mcclure thinks we are taking the limited for the west. instead we are making a bee-line for uncle sam's the instant we reach the cove. the plucky chit got me twice in the right arm. only flea bites, but they are messing me up rather for a crowded pullman. hold the carriage ready. you'll never catch that broncho."
foyle hastened away to do sykes' bidding.
as sykes looked upon the face so cruelly torn he was touched. he passed his hand over his brow irresolute. only a moment and the compunction vanished. shutting his jaw he muttered in determination:
"i've got you at last, mary, and you stay with me. nothing in god's world will take you from me—and live."
