CHAPTER IX.

Night.

The dark forms of a group of men were brought out in sharp contrast

against the fitful light of a small brushwood fire built in a sheltered

spot among the hills.

A few faint stars dotted the moonless sky, and the night air was raw

with the frosty breath of late October.

Some of the men were sitting about on scattered blocks of rejected

stone, left in the abandoned quarry years before when the abutment of a

bridge had been built over a small, swift stream near by, but the great

number of raiders stood in careless attitudes around the fire, talking

or smoking.

"Captain's late," one of the men in the foreground said.

"I heard the ring of Black Devil's hoofs comin' up the hill just a

moment ago," a raider answered.

As he spoke, he thrust a fresh supply of brush into the fire, and

briskly stirred the bed of embers until it glowed with sudden fervor,

while a shower of sparks arose and fluttered into the night like a swarm

of fireflies rudely disturbed.

"Be saving of the brush," cautioned one of the raiders. "There may be

officers of the law abroad tonight."

"It is money to them if they bag us," answered the other, with an

expressive shrug of the shoulders and a hoarse laugh. "There's a reward

of two hundred dollars offered for information concerning the raiders,

or night-riders, as some folks call us."

"Perhaps some one's after it," suggested another.

"And what good 'd the reward be? It would melt or burn where we'd send

him."

"Is it the gate at the stone bridge tonight?"

"No, I have heard it's to be another--one more familiar to some of our

members," the speaker continued, casting a furtive glance at a number of

the band standing near.

"Suppose it should be the pole of the New Pike gate, and Milt was chosen

to do the cutting?" The man at the fire spoke tauntingly.

"The pole of the New Pike gate won't be cut tonight, I'm thinking," said

Derr quietly.

"Not if the Captain commands it?"

"No."

"Listen, you fellows--hear what this man's sayin'!"

"And what's more to the point, I'm willing to bet that he isn't going to

insist on me cutting it, either," added Derr, glancing about him with a

half-defiant air in which there was also the suggestion of a threat.

Quickly the attention of the others was drawn to the speaker, who had

unconsciously straightened to his full six feet, while the rich color in

his cheeks, augmented by the ruddy glow of the firelight, deepened

perceptibly, and quickly spread to his throat and neck, which were

partly revealed in their robust outlines, where the heavy coat was

thrown back to the warmth of the fire.

"Any special reasons for not wantin' to cut down the pole of the New

Pike gate?" asked one of the band, with a wink on the sly at his

companions.

"I have," answered Milt frankly and seriously. "One good reason I will

state a little later, the other can be given right now. It seems a

cowardly thing to do--the chopping down of a gate that's kept by two

lone women. Now if it was a man, the case would be altogether

different."

"It ain't the women folks we've got the grudge ag'in," spoke up one of

the men. "It's the graspin' turnpike companies back of 'em we're after."

"Yes, but it's taking away the living of two worthy women," protested

Derr.

"That can't be helped, though," argued the other raider. "If we're goin'

to do away with toll-gates, an' have free roads, we can't play

favorites, you know, by cuttin' down some poles, an' leavin' others

standin', just on account o' family relations," he said.

"What's the talk?" The deep voice came from the outer gloom, and as the

men glanced in its direction, the captain emerged from the shadows

hovering close about the circle and joined the group.

An embarrassing silence fell suddenly upon the company, at the leader's

presence, and each man waited for his neighbor to make reply. As no one

seemed inclined to answer, finally Derr spoke.

"It was concerning the New Pike gate. Some one suggested that I would be

chosen to do the cutting of the pole."

"Well!" The captain fixed his steel cold eyes full on the speaker, while

the semblance of a sarcastic smile hovered about his mouth.

"I have good and sufficient reasons for not wanting to cut down that

pole, and especially if I was called upon tonight," continued the

speaker quietly, his eyes meeting the captain's gaze unflinchingly.

"Have your reasons been called for?" demanded the leader with a

contemptuous curl of the lip.

"Among other reasons," continued Derr, ignoring the question, "I don't

see the need of disturbing that gate for the present, when so many

others around here tonight might claim our attention."

The little groups merged into a large one, and general attention was

quickly centered in the two men, for trouble seemed brewing in this

quarter. As they stood face to face, eyeing each other keenly and

coolly, the spirit of unfriendliness that had long held a place in each

bosom was plainly evident, and a clashing of strong wills appeared

imminent. There had ever been a feeling of rivalry, dating far back to

the days they had gone to school together in Alder Creek Glen, and

pretty little Sally Brown was the figurative apple of discord between

the two.

"His reasons for not wanting that gate disturbed may not be hard to

guess," said the captain, a sneer lingering on his heavy lips. "He's in

love with the pretty toll-taker."

"And the captain's rather sore because she's jilted him," retorted Derr

in clear, deliberate tones.

The leader's face flushed crimson with anger at the words that carried

with them the sting of truth, and a look of hatred blazed for an instant

in his eyes as he turned them full on the speaker, standing calm and

disdainful, meeting the look fearlessly.

Perhaps this utter lack of fear deterred the captain from his first

impulse, for he knew that to press his adversary further at this moment

meant a speedy settlement of old scores. Jade Beddow was not ready for

such a course just yet, indeed he knew a better plan of revenge, so

with strong effort he managed to control the rage that filled him, and

to bring himself to a more fitting realization of his present course of

conduct.

"We haven't met tonight to settle personal grievances," he said, letting

his eyes slowly wander to the men surrounding him. "These can be left to

another time an' place. Our business tonight is to strike another blow

for our just cause, and the New Pike gate is the one to go down. Let

those who are not cowards follow me. To your horses, boys!"

The Night Riders A Thrilling Story of Love, Hate and Adventure, Graphically Depicting the Tobacco Uprising in Kentucky · 第 9 / 33 章