MOLLY'S STORY
The two rode steadily, following the trail left by Hamlin and Hughes
earlier in the morning. As there had been no wind, and the cold had
crusted the snow, the tracks left by the two ponies were easily
followed. As they skirted the ridge the Indian pony herd could be
distinguished, sufficiently close by this time to leave no doubt as to
what they were. Hamlin cautiously kept back out of sight in the breaks
of the ridge, although his keen eyes, searching the upper valley,
discovered no sign of pursuit. Tired as Dupont's horse undoubtedly
was, he might not yet have attained the Indian encampment, which, in
truth, might be much farther away than Hughes had supposed. The fact
that no spirals of smoke were visible puzzled the Sergeant, for in that
frosty air they should naturally be perceived for a considerable
distance. Possibly, however, the bluffs were higher and more abrupt,
farther up stream, affording better chances of concealment. Indeed it
was quite probable that the Indians would seek the most sheltered spot
available for their winter camp, irrespective of any possible fear of
attack. Reasonably safe from a winter campaign, the atrocities of the
past summer would naturally tend to make them unusually cautious and
watchful.
Molly, muffled to the eyes in her thick blanket, permitted her pony to
follow the other without guidance, until they both dipped down into the
hollow, safe from any possible observation. In some mysterious way the
overpowering feeling of terror which had controlled her for days past
had departed. The mere presence of Hamlin was an assurance of safety.
As she watched him, erect in saddle, his blue overcoat tightly
buttoned, his revolver belt strapped outside, she no longer felt any
consciousness of the surrounding desolation, or the nearness of savage
foes. Her heart beat fast and her cheeks flushed in memory of what had
so swiftly occurred between them. Without thought, or struggle, she
gave herself unreservedly to his guidance, serenely confident in his
power to succeed. He was a man so strong, so resourceful, so fitted to
the environment, that her trust in him was unquestioned. She needed to
ask nothing; was content to follow in silence. Even as she realized
the completeness of her surrender, the Sergeant, relaxing none of his
watchfulness, checked his pony so that they could ride onward side by
side.
"We will follow the trail back," he explained, glancing aside at her
face. "It is easier to follow than to strike out for ourselves across
the open."
"Where does it lead?"
"To an old cow-camp on the Cimarron. There is a trooper there waiting.
Shall I tell you the story?"
"I wish you would."
"And then I am to have yours in return--everything?"
"Yes," she said, and their eyes met. "There is nothing to
conceal--from you."
He told his tale simply, and in few words; how he had missed, and
sought after her in Dodge; how that searching had led directly to the
discovery of crime, and finally the revealment of Major McDonald's
body. He told of his efforts at organizing a party to follow the
fugitives, inspired by a belief that she was a prisoner, of the trip
through the blizzard, and of how he had succeeded in outstripping
Dupont in the race.
The girl listened silently, able from her own experience to fill in the
details of that relentless pursuit, which could not be halted either by
storm or bullets. The strength, the determination of the man, appealed
to her with new force, and tears welled into her eyes.
"Why, you are crying!" he exclaimed in surprise.
"That is nothing," her lips smiling, as she loosened one hand from the
blanket and reached across to clasp his. "You must know, dear, how
happy I am to have found you. No one else could have done this."
"Oh, yes, little girl," soberly. "Wasson would have gone on, if I had
been the one to go down. The hardest part of it all was waiting for
the storm to cease, not knowing where you were hidden--that nearly
drove me insane."
"I understand; uncertainty is harder to bear than anything else. Shall
I tell you now what happened to me?"
"Yes," tenderly, "as much, or as little as you please."
"Then it shall be everything, dear," her hand-grasp tightening. A
moment she hesitated, looking out across the snow plains, and then back
into his eyes. From their expression she gained courage to proceed,
her voice low, yet clear enough to make every syllable distinctly
audible.
"I--I was frightened when you left me alone on the balcony, and went in
to confront Mrs. Dupont. I knew the woman and suspected that she would
only be too glad to find some indiscretion she could use against me.
It occurred to me that possibly she had seen me enter the parlor and
was there herself to make sure. If so, she would hesitate at no trick
to verify her suspicions. This thought so took possession of me that I
determined to escape if possible. And it appeared easy of
accomplishment. There was but a short drop to the ground, while a few
steps around the end of the hotel would bring me safely to the front
entrance. The temptation to try was irresistible. I heard your voices
within and thought I understood her game. It was dark below, yet I
knew how close the earth was, and there was no sign of any one about.
I clambered over the railing, let myself down as far as I could, and
dropped. The slight fall did not even jar me, yet I was none too soon.
As I crouched there in the darkness, she flung open the curtains, and
looked out on to the vacant balcony. I saw the flash of light, and
heard her laugh--it was not pleasant laughter, for she was disappointed
not to find me there. After the curtains fell again I could no longer
hear your voices, and my sole desire was to get back into the hotel
unobserved. I was not afraid, only I dreaded to meet any one who might
recognize me."
She paused in her recital, as though to recall more clearly the exact
facts, the two riding forward, Hamlin leaning over toward her,
occasionally glancing watchfully behind.
"The guests were already beginning to straggle back to the dance hall
from supper, and I waited in the shadow of the building for an
opportunity to slip into the hotel unobserved. While I hid there a
cavalry soldier from the fort rode up, swung down from his saddle, and
ran up the steps. I heard him ask for Major McDonald. Almost
immediately he came out again, and I passed him on the porch. Just
inside the door I met my father. He was leaving the hotel with Dupont,
and the latter swore savagely when I caught my father's arm, asking
what message the orderly had brought. He answered strangely, saying he
had received orders to go at once to Ripley on the stage; that he might
be gone several days. There was nothing about all that to startle a
soldier's daughter, but Dupont kept his hand on my father's arm, urging
him to hurry. The actions of the man aroused my suspicions. I knew my
father was acting paymaster, and I could perceive the outlines of a
leather bag bulging beneath his overcoat. If this contained money,
then I grasped Dupont's purpose. My plan of action occurred to me in a
flash--I would accompany him until--until he was safely in the stage,
and find opportunity to whisper warning. I remember asking him to wait
a moment for me, and rushing to the cloak room after my coat. But when
I returned they were gone. I ran out into the street, but they were
not to be seen; they had not gone toward the stage office, for the
lights revealed that distance clearly, and they had had no time in
which to disappear within. With the one thought that Dupont had lured
my father out of sight for purposes of robbery, I started to run down
the little alley-way next the hotel. I know now how foolish I was, but
then I was reckless. It was dark and I saw and heard nothing to warn
me of danger. It was in my mind that my father had been lured on to
the open prairie behind the hotel. Suddenly I was seized roughly, and
a cloth whipped over my face before I could even scream. I heard a
voice say: 'Damned if it ain't the girl! What will we do with her?'
and then Dupont's voice answered gruffly: 'Hell, there ain't anything
to do, but take the little hussy along. She 'd queer the whole game,
an' we 've got an extra horse. They jerked me forward so roughly, and
I was so frightened that--that I must have fainted. At any rate I
remember nothing more distinctly until we had crossed the river, and I
was on horseback wrapped in a blanket, and tied to the saddle. Some
one was holding me erect; I could not move my arms, but could see and
hear. It was dark, and we were moving slowly; there were two Indians
ahead, and a white man riding each side of me. They thought me
unconscious still, and spoke occasionally; little by little I
recognized their voices, and understood their words."
Her voice broke into a sob, but the Sergeant's eyes were still gazing
vigilantly out over the snow-clad hills.
"It is hard to tell the rest," she said finally, "but I learned that it
was not robbery, but the betrayal of trust. My father was guilty, and
yet at the same time a victim. I only got the truth in snatches, which
I had to piece together, although later I learned other details. Mrs.
Dupont had bled my father through some knowledge she had gained of his
sister's family. I cannot even imagine what this could have been, but
it was sufficient for her purpose. He gave her all he had, and
then--then she heard of this government money being sent to Ripley.
She had known about that for several days through the Lieutenant, and
had ample time to arrange the plot. My father must have been crazy to
have entered into the scheme, but he did, he did. The woman compelled
him to it."
"I understand, Molly," broke in Hamlin, anxious to spare her the
details. "They were to pretend robbery, but with the Major's
connivance. An officer impersonating him was despatched to Ripley by
stage. This would prevent any immediate pursuit. Later the Major was
to be released, to return to Dodge with his story. The projection of
yourself into the affair disarranged the entire plot, and then a
quarrel occurred, and your father was killed."
"Yes; it was over what should be done with me; although I believe now
they intended to kill him, so as to retain all the money. The older
Indian fired the shot treacherously."
"And Connors?"
"Dupont killed him; they were both drunk, and the soldier fired first,
but missed."
"And after that?"
She covered her face with her hands.
"It was all a dream of continuous horror, yet through it all, I do not
recall consciousness of physical torture. I seemed to be mentally
numbed, my brain a blank. It was a realization of my father's guilt
more than my own danger which affected me--that and his death. They
were not unkind nor brutal. Indeed I do not clearly recall that I was
even spoken to, except when some necessary order was given. One night
I heard them discuss what should be done with me; that I was to be
hidden away in Black Kettle's camp. Generally Dupont spoke to the
Indians in their own tongue, but that night he thought me asleep. I--I
had no hope left--not even faith that you could ever rescue me."
Hamlin's hand clasped hers firmly, but his eyes were riveted on
something in the distance.
"Wait," he said, checking his horse, "what is that? See; down in the
valley of the creek! Is it not a moving body of men?"