"THEY'VE GOT THE BOY"
"I don't believe it. Your rescuer was drawing the long bow," spoke up
Anne Nesbit.
"Yes, I can't imagine Hippy with a price on his head," nodded Miss
Briggs.
"When I'm dead you folks will be sorry that you didn't take me
seriously," rebuked Lieutenant Wingate. "Do we do as my friend
suggested, and hike for the Thompson farm, or must I be sacrificed on
the altar of unbelief?"
"Grace must answer that question. She is our captain," answered Elfreda.
Grace Harlowe regarded Hippy with searching eyes.
"You are not fooling us, Hippy?" she demanded.
"Could I be so base as to deceive my dearest friends?" answered
Lieutenant Wingate in an aggrieved tone. "How can you doubt me?"
"Girls, if there be no objection, we will start at daybreak. Washington,
do you know where the Thompson farm is?" questioned Grace.
"Ah reckon Ah does," drawled Washington.
"How far is it from here?"
"'Bout two skips an' er jump, Ah reckons."
"He thinks we are a flock of fleas," grumbled Hippy under his breath.
"I will get the map. We shall learn nothing from Washington," said
Grace, rising. "Washington, pack up everything we shall not need
to-night. We wish to make an early start in the morning."
"Yes'm."
Fetching the map, Grace and Elfreda pored over it and finally located
the farm in question. The map was a sectional map issued by the
government and gave every trail and landmark in the territory that it
covered.
"I should say Thompson's farm is about twenty miles from here. It
appears to be quite a bit out of our way, but that doesn't matter in the
circumstances. Yes, I think we can make it. All right, Hippy."
"What about to-night?" asked Miss Briggs.
"The same arrangement as last night," replied Grace in a low tone. "We
will take turns. Take your blanket out. He needs a rest to-night,"
nodding towards Hippy Wingate.
Neither Grace nor Elfreda felt like sitting up another night. Hippy
insisted that he must take his watch on guard, but they declined his
offer, telling him that they could not trust him to keep awake in view
of what he had been through and the sleep he had lost. So the two girls
took up their vigil again, Grace lying down near her companion, Elfreda
taking the first watch of the night.
It was not long after the camp had settled down to sleep that Elfreda
put a quick pressure on the arm of her companion. Grace was awake
instantly.
"What is it?" she whispered, instinctively sensing that the pressure on
her arm was a warning pressure.
"I thought I heard something yonder by Washington's tent," whispered
Miss Briggs.
"Yes, something is moving about there," agreed Grace, after a few
minutes of attentive listening. "It may be Washington himself. Don't
shoot. Remember, too, that the ponies are in that direction, so if we
have to fire we must fire high."
"I had thought of that. I--"
Miss Briggs was interrupted by the most unearthly yell that any member
of the Overland party had ever heard. The yell was uttered by Washington
Washington.
"Leggo me! Leggo! He kotched me! He kotched me! Wo--o--o--o--o--ow!"
The howls of the colored boy ended in a gurgle.
"Shoot!" commanded Grace. "Shoot high! Empty your rifle!"
Both girls let go a rattling fire with their rifles, and the howls and
the shots brought the others of their party tumbling and shouting from
their tents.
"Down! Quiet!" commanded Grace. "Let no one shoot without orders, unless
in an emergency. I am going out there."
"Better not," advised Miss Briggs.
"I must. You know I must. If they have harmed that boy--Well, you know
the answer. Keep them quiet."
With only her revolver, Grace crept around the outer edge of the camp,
making every movement with extreme care, pausing now and then to listen.
It was her opinion that the disturbers had left, but she was too old a
campaigner to take that for granted, and never for an instant relaxed
her caution.
The Overland girl reached the far end of the camp without incident. She
crept to the tent where the colored boy slept and found it empty. There
was no trace, that she was able to discover in the dark, to indicate
what had happened to him. Not satisfied with what she had already
accomplished, Grace crept further out along the trail, revolver in hand,
eyes and ears keenly on the alert.
Finally she turned campwards.
"They have got the boy," she announced, coming up from the rear of the
tents, and approaching her companions from behind. All were sitting on
the ground, silent, expectant, waiting, either for Grace's return or a
burst of revolver fire. Their nerves jumped from the reaction when Grace
spoke to them.
"Oh, that is too bad," murmured Anne.
"Did you discover anything else?" asked Elfreda.
"No. I could not see anything in the dark. The worst of it is that we
shall not be able to do a thing until morning. That settles our getting
started in the morning, for I for one shall not leave here until we have
found Washington. I don't know why they should have taken the boy. He
surely can be of no use to them."
"He can give them information, can't he?" asked Hippy.
"None that will be of use to them."
"It is my opinion," spoke up Elfreda, "that they were not after the boy
at all, but that his howls made it necessary for them to take him to
protect themselves. Of course they will drag such information as he has,
from him."
"We must all stand watch for the rest of the night," announced Hippy. He
then promptly distributed his force, taking the lead in the
arrangements, which Grace was now glad to have him do. Then again, she
understood full well that Lieutenant Wingate himself was eager to even
up old scores with the men who had handled him so roughly.
Each girl, armed with a rifle, took the position assigned to her, and
there was no more conversation for the next two hours, no sound other
than that from the insect life and the occasional whinney of a pony. The
minds of the Overlanders, however, were active. They were pondering over
these persistent attacks on them, and Grace, for one, became finally
convinced that Lieutenant Wingate was not overstating when he declared
that there was a price on his head. She was inclined to think, too, that
the same condition applied to all members of the Overland party.
As for Washington, none of them believed that the mountaineers could
have any possible motive for harming him, unless, perhaps, it were
necessary to do so for their own protection. That, the girls realized,
was a grave possibility, especially were the men to see that he
recognized any of them.
There was worry on the minds of the Overlanders, and the hours of their
vigil seemed to drag out interminably. It was not until morning,
however, that anything occurred to disturb them or even rouse them from
their endless listening and peering into the darkness with straining
eyes and bated breaths. Therefore, the interruption that followed the
long, tense silence came as a shock, an interruption that startled each
member of the party into a new and throbbing alertness.