Not until they had rushed up out of the coulee and had reached the pathlike
trail did the screaming cease. For barely an instant MacDonald paused, and
then ran on with a speed that taxed Aldous to keep up. When they came to
the little open amphitheatre in the forest MacDonald halted again. Their
hearts were thumping like hammers, and the old mountaineer's voice came
husky and choking when he spoke.
"It wasn't far--from here!" he panted.
Scarcely had he uttered the words when he sped on again. Three minutes
later they came to where the trail crossed the edge of a small
rock-cluttered meadow, and with a sudden spurt Aldous darted ahead of
MacDonald into this opening, where he saw two figures in the moonlight.
Half a dozen feet from them he stopped with a cry of horror. They were Paul
and Peggy Blackton! Peggy was dishevelled and sobbing, and was frantically
clutching at her husband. It was Paul Blackton who dragged the cry from his
lips. The contractor was swaying. He was hatless; his face was covered with
blood, and his eyes were only half open, as if he were fighting to pull
himself back into consciousness after a terrible blow. Peggy's hair was
down, her dress was torn at the throat, and she was panting so that for a
moment she could not speak.
"They've got--Joanne!" she cried then. "They went--there!"
She pointed, and Aldous ran where she pointed--into the timber on the far
side of the little meadow. MacDonald caught his arm as they ran.
"You go straight in," he commanded. "I'll swing--to right--toward
river----"
For two minutes after that Aldous tore straight ahead. Then for barely a
moment he stopped. He had not paused to question Peggy Blackton. His own
fears told him who Joanne's abductors were. They were men working under
instructions from Quade. And they could not be far away, for scarcely ten
minutes had passed since the first scream. He listened, and held his breath
so that the terrific beating of his heart would not drown the sound of
crackling brush. All at once the blood in him was frozen by a fierce yell.
It was MacDonald, a couple of hundred yards to his right, and after that
yell came the bellowing shout of his name.
"Johnny! Johnny! Oh, Johnny!"
He dashed in MacDonald's direction, and a few moments later heard the
crashing of bodies in the undergrowth. Fifty seconds more and he was in the
arena. MacDonald was fighting three men in a space over which the
spruce-tops grew thinly. The moon shone upon them as they swayed in a
struggling mass, and as Aldous sprang to the combat one of the three reeled
backward and fell as if struck by a battering-ram. In that same moment
MacDonald went down, and Aldous struck a terrific blow with the butt of his
heavy Savage. He missed, and the momentum of his blow carried him over
MacDonald. He tripped and fell. By the time he had regained his, feet the
two men had disappeared into the thick shadows of the spruce forest. Aldous
whirled toward the third man, whom he had seen fall. He, too, had
disappeared. A little lamely old Donald brought himself to his feet. He was
smiling.
"Now, what do 'ee think, Johnny?"
"Where is she? Where is Joanne?" demanded Aldous.
"Twenty feet behind you, Johnny, gagged an' trussed up nice as a whistle!
If they hadn't stopped to do that work you wouldn't ha' seen her ag'in,
Johnny--s'elp me, God, you wouldn't! They was hikin' for the river. Once
they had reached the Frazer, and a boat----"
He broke off to lead Aldous to a clump of dwarf spruce. Behind this, white
and still in the moonlight, but with eyes wide open and filled with horror,
lay Joanne. Hands and feet were bound, and a big handkerchief was tied over
her mouth. Twenty seconds later Aldous held her shivering and sobbing and
laughing hysterically by turns in his arms, while MacDonald's voice brought
Paul and Peggy Blackton to them. Blackton had recovered from the blow that
had dazed him. Over Joanne's head he stared at Aldous. And MacDonald was
staring at Blackton. His eyes were burning a little darkly.
"It's all come out right," he said, "but it ain't a special nice time o'
night to be taking a' evening walk in this locality with a couple o'
ladies!"
Blackton was still staring at Aldous, with Peggy clutching his arm as if
afraid of losing him.
It was Peggy who answered MacDonald.
"And it was a nice time of night for you to send a message asking us to
bring Joanne down the trail!" she cried, her voice trembling.
"We----" began Aldous, when he saw a sudden warning movement on MacDonald's
part, and stopped. "Let us take the ladies home," he said.
With Joanne clinging to him, he led the way. Behind them all MacDonald
growled loudly:
"There's got t' be something done with these damned beasts of furriners.
It's gettin' so no woman ain't safe at night!"
Twenty minutes later they reached the bungalow. Leaving Joanne and Peggy
inside, now as busily excited as two phoebe birds, and after Joanne had
insisted upon Aldous sleeping at the Blacktons' that night, the two men
accompanied MacDonald a few steps on his way back to camp.
As soon as they were out of earshot Blackton began cursing softly under his
breath.
"So you didn't send that damned note?" he asked. "You haven't said so, but
I've guessed you didn't send it!"
"No, we didn't send a note."
"And you had a reason--you and MacDonald--for not wanting the girls to know
the truth?"
"A mighty good reason," said Aldous. "I've got to thank MacDonald for
closing my mouth at the right moment. I was about to give it away. And now,
Blackton, I've got to confide in you. But before I do that I want your word
that you will repeat nothing of what I say to another person--even your
wife."
Blackton nodded.
"Go on," he said. "I've suspected a thing or two, Aldous. I'll give you my
word. Go on."
As briefly as possible, and without going deeply into detail, Aldous told
of Quade and his plot to secure possession of Joanne.
"And this is his work," he finished. "I've told you this, Paul, so that you
won't worry about Peggy. You can see from to-night's events that they were
not after her, but wanted Joanne. Joanne must not learn the truth. And your
wife must not know. I am going to settle with Quade. Just how and where and
when I'm going to settle with him I don't care to say now. But he's going
to answer to me. And he's going to answer soon."
Blackton whistled softly.
"A boy brought the note," he said. "He stood in the dark when he handed it
to me. And I didn't recognize any one of the three men who jumped out on
us. I didn't have much of a chance to fight, but if there's any one on the
face of the earth who has got it over Peggy when it comes to screaming, I'd
like to know her name! Joanne didn't have time to make a sound. But they
didn't touch Peggy until she began screaming, and then one of the men began
choking her. They had about laid me out with a club, so I was helpless.
Good God----"
He shuddered.
"They were river men," said MacDonald. "Probably some of Tomman's scow-men.
They were making for the river."
A few minutes later, when Aldous was saying good-night to MacDonald, the
old hunter said again, in a whisper:
"Now what do 'ee think, Johnny?"
"That you're right, Mac," replied Aldous in a low voice. "There is no
longer a choice. Joanne must go with us. You will come early?"
"At dawn, Johnny."
He returned to the bungalow with Blackton, and until midnight the lights
there burned brightly while the two men answered a thousand questions about
the night's adventure, and Aldous told of his and Joanne's plans for the
honeymoon trip into the North that was to begin the next day.
It was half-past twelve when be locked the door of his and sat down to
think.