Jean turned white with deadly sickening fear, but kept her head
courageously up. She whipped up her pony and tried to get away, but
the strong hand held the bridle and the little beast could only rear,
almost throwing her. Moreover, a gleaming pistol shone into Jean's
terrified eyes, and Scathlin in gloating voice spoke low:
"Oh, no, my pretty, you don't come any of your little tricks on me.
You've stole a paper I give you to give to your brother, an' I mean
to have it without any further nonsense. Hand it over!" and he
grasped her roughly by the arm.
"Help! Mr. Holt! _Jasper!_" she screamed.
Something was stuffed into her mouth and the barrel of the pistol
gleamed between her eyes. She could feel the cold steel against her
flesh. The earth seemed reeling beneath her, and her senses were
going from her. Was there no hope of help from anywhere?
"Now, my pretty, I'll just he'p myself to that paper." Scathlin's
voice was malevolent, his eyes gleaming. Like the cold slimy length
of a serpent coiling around her soul, the meaning of his words slid
about her consciousness. She felt she was sinking out of the world
of knowledge into a blackness where she could not protect herself.
Then quickly, sharply, a voice brought her back to consciousness.
"Drop that pistol! Let go of that lady! Now, march!"
It was Holt's voice, low, merciless, commanding; and a revolver was
in his hand.
Scathlin fell away like water, turning deadly white and cringing.
The day of his judgment had come swiftly, and there was no escape.
He knew that look in Holt's eye. He had sinned away his last
probation. Holt would never trust him again. There was not even
time to destroy the letter which he had wanted to keep and give to
Harrington as evidence against the girl.
"March!" said Holt's voice again, and the revolver came uncomfortably
near to Scathlin's temple.
Scathlin marched.
"Go straight to the house and wait there till I come," commanded Holt
as Scathlin backed weakly away. "If you attempt to escape I'll turn
the bloodhounds loose after you."
Scathlin turned a shade paler. He had had experience with one of
those bloodhounds. He had no desire to meet the whole pack. He
hastened his footsteps.
Jean sat with wild eyes watching, her hand upon her heart.
"You didn't send him for the paper, did you?" she demanded eagerly.
"I knew you would never have sent him."
"Send for the paper, what paper?" asked Holt in wonder. "I never
sent him for anything."
"Then how did he know what was in my letter to you?"
"Letter? What letter? I never received a letter from you."
"Then he must have opened it and read it. Oh, _he will show it to my
brother!_"
But Holt's voice rang out clearly before her sentence was fairly
finished:
"Halt! Scathlin!"
Scathlin had almost reached the turning at the edge of the woods, but
he paused instantly.
"Come back here."
Scathlin came, cringing and white with fear. When he was within ten
yards of the two Holt spoke again, and all the time the sinister
weapon kept guard in his hand aimed straight at Scathlin.
"Give me my letter."
"W-what l-let-tt-ter?" chattered Scathlin with ill concealed attempt
to use his cunning.
"The letter you have in your pocket. Take it out instantly and drop
it on the ground or I shall fire," said Holt sternly.
"Well, put down that gun," whimpered Scathlin, fumbling nervously in
his inside pocket, "you make me n-n-nervous!"
"Be quick! Drop that letter!" said Holt, still holding the revolver.
Scathlin took out the letter and dropped it on the ground, but his
bad little eyes gleamed green and yellow hate at the girl in one look
of wrath as he turned and stumbled back again.
Holt, still holding the revolver and watching the retreating man,
advanced and picked up the letter. When Scathlin was out of sight he
read it, then turned with softened eyes to the girl who had meantime
secured the paper from its hiding place pinned within her blouse.
She held it out to him, her hand still trembling with the fright she
had been through.
Holt took the paper, but gathered the little hand into his tenderly
and, stooping, kissed it.
"To think you have been through all this for me." There was awe in
his voice. "To think you trusted me instead of your own people!"
For an instant they looked into each other's eyes; then Holt's horse,
trained to stand and await his master's will, whinnied softly.
"We must not stand here," said Holt, looking up sharply, "some one
might come. I will take you on to Mrs. Foster's, and then go back
and see that Scathlin is where he can do no further harm. How long
will you wish to be there? Can you stay an hour and then ride back?
I will be waiting just in the shadow of the woods and see you to the
edge of town where you will be safe. Please don't ride out of town
alone again."
"But I shall not be afraid to go back," protested Jean. "You need
not take all that trouble. Now that you have the paper I shall not
be afraid."
"Trouble!" said Holt, looking at her with eyes that adored. "You
know it is no trouble. But what is this paper that has made so much
disturbance?" He had mounted his horse and was riding by her side
now. He unfolded the paper, but it needed only a glance to show him
what it was.
"How did you happen to have it?" he asked, looking at her startled.
"Have you the others?"
"No," she said, a cloud of trouble coming into her eyes. "I had
them, I suppose, but I did not know they were yours. I had the
wallet, with them in. That man gave them to me on the train before
the wreck. You picked the wallet up once when it fell, don't you
remember? Didn't you know they were yours?"
"Yes," said Holt, "I knew. At least I supposed I knew."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to mix you up in the trouble," he said, looking at her
tenderly, "and besides, I knew they were safe in your possession for
the present."
"But they weren't. I didn't know they were yours, and I gave them to
my brother."
"I knew you would, of course. But I was pretty sure I could stop any
harm he would do before he could do it. The only thing I was
troubled about was this paper. I didn't think Scathlin was fool
enough to leave all the papers in the wallet. I was pretty sure he
had kept this and one other himself and only sent the rest back to
throw me off the track and make me think he had sent all of them. He
knew I saw him give you the wallet and he meant I should see. He
thought I would stop watching him and give my attention to you, but I
knew Scathlin better than that. I kept my eye on him. But how did
you happen to have this one paper?"
"I'm not sure. When I came back to my room, after giving my brother
the wallet, I found this on my floor. It may have fallen when I
dumped the things out of my bag. The wallet fell apart and all the
papers went out on the table, but I thought I picked up every one.
Then when I came back to my room I found this on the floor just as I
was about to turn out the light. Later I overheard a conversation in
which this paper and another were described as missing. The other
was something to do with a mine----"
"Yes, I have it," said Holt.
"You have it? Oh, I am so glad! Then they can't trouble your claim,
can they? I suppose that was what they meant, I'm not very much of a
business person. But how did you get it? They said it was in the
wallet."
"It was," said Holt, "till Scathlin took it out. I think he intended
taking this, also, and leaving with you only the other papers which
were utterly valueless without these two; but he had to work quickly
while I was at the other end of the car, and he blundered. I got it
out of Scathlin's shoe, just after the accident occurred, and before
I left the car we were in. We had a struggle in the dark, but I
secured my paper before he flung me off and crawled out of the
window. After that, I lost sight of him. I was hunting for him in
the water when I found you. I didn't know who you were till I drew
you up on the bank. But I never dreamed you had this paper. I
thought, of course, it was still with Scathlin. That is why I was
away so long, hunting him. I didn't know once but I'd lost him
completely, but I finally got on his track. I was sure he knew where
this paper was and I didn't dare to lose him. I brought him home to
watch him; and I've kept him in sight all day to-day. He thought I
was away from home for two days, but I've been in hiding. I had him
watched when he went to town and I knew he came home. If he had had
this paper he would have gone straight to your brother. A field
glass and a whistle will do a good deal to keep track of a man. When
he stole out of the house toward the woods I knew something was
happening and signalled my men. They are waiting now. They'll look
after Scathlin till I get back."
He raised a tiny whistle to his lips and blew a long, silvery blast,
followed by two more, and in a moment there came back two answers
from slightly different directions.
They were come now to the open road, and Holt drew his horse to one
side. Mrs. Foster's home was but a stone's throw away and she was
sitting on the porch in her reclining chair.
"I will be here when you are ready to go home," said Holt, looking at
her tenderly; then, touching his hat, he wheeled his horse and was
out of sight in a twinkling.
The next hour was always a blur in the memory of Jean. Somehow she
drew her senses together and dismounted at her friend's door, going
through the formalities of meeting, and adjusting herself to the
occasion; but not for an instant did her subconsciousness cease to
rehearse the events just passed. Her whole body quivered again with
the fear that swept over her at sight of Scathlin; she shrank once
more from his touch as the full realization of her escape was made
known to her; and the look and voice of Holt thrilled her as nothing
had ever done in her life. How could they say he was not good when
he was like that? She had seen the soul of him looking out of his
wonderful eyes and she knew. But how had it come about that others
had not seen, also? Oh, if they knew once; if they could just get a
real glimpse of the true man, they would never again feel as they did
about him.
She recognized fully the separation there was between them and it
brought a constriction of tears in her throat; but in her heart was a
glad glow that he cared for her, and for the time it seemed enough to
fill her with deep joy. She was going to see him again in a few
minutes, and she could thank him for saving her life again, this time
perhaps from something worse than death. She had had no words
wherewith to tell him of the infinite relief his appearing had
brought; everything had happened so quickly; but it seemed as if a
lifetime would be too brief to voice her gratitude for her
deliverance. She shivered as she remembered the look on Scathlin's
face when he took hold of her.
Mrs. Foster said: "Why, you're not cold, are you, dearie, this warm
day? I believe they are letting you do too much, with all their
parties and things. You look white. You'd better come down and stay
with me a week and get rested up."
But Jean's laugh rang silverly.
"Oh, no, I'm not cold, Mrs. Foster, I'm just glad over something.
It's very nice of you to ask me to visit you, and I would be
delighted, but you know I'm going home next week, and I'm afraid
Eleanor wouldn't want to spare me when the time is so short."
"Going home next week!" exclaimed the old lady, in dismay. "Why, I
thought you were going to stay till Christmas."
"So I was, but father has to go to New York to a convention. He's
been made a delegate, and it's a splendid thing for him. He hasn't
had an outing in a long time. He needs it; and we couldn't leave
mother alone you know. Mother is an invalid. So of course I'm going
home a little sooner. But I've had a beautiful time here, and maybe
I can come again sometime."
All the time that Jean was talking her real self was thinking how
wonderful it had been that it was Holt who saved her again and not
just some passing stranger.
The hour was over at last and Jean joyously mounted her pony and bade
her friend good-bye; but when she rode into the shadow of the woods
and saw Holt on his shining black horse waiting quietly beside the
road for her, a great shyness overcame her, and she knew she would
never be able to put into words the great thoughts of her heart, and
that perhaps it was as well; for he would understand and words were
not necessary for them. There could not be much said without saying
too much.
After all they said very little. The way was short till they came to
the edge of town though they walked their horses as slowly as
possible; but there were looks and glances of the soul, trustful,
grateful, worshipful; and each felt the blessedness of these few
minutes alone together.
Holt told her briefly of Scathlin. He was safe? She need fear him
no more. He would not be abroad to trouble her during the rest of
her stay. His eyes more than his words informed her how he regretted
the brevity of that stay. His eyes told her also that Scathlin's
judgment would be tempered with mercy and righteousness.
There was one question she wished to ask him. She hesitated long but
finally risked it.
"You will enter the tournament?" she asked, lifting her eyes full of
pleading that his answer should be yes. "You know about it, of
course? You know they are giving me a tournament before I go home?"
He bowed gravely.
"Yes, I know. You will like it. It is one of the most interesting
affairs they have in town. I am glad you will see it."
She saw he was evading her question.
"You will enter?" she asked again anxiously.
He searched her face keenly.
"You want me to?"
"I do, very much," she said, and the rich color in her cheeks told
him how much she wanted it.
"Your friends will not like it," he said.
"But the tournament is given for me, and I shall like it," she said
with spirit. "I am sure you can ride."
"I can ride a little," he said indifferently.
"Then you will enter?"
"If you really wish it."
"I certainly wish it," she said gladly.
Then suddenly out from the woods rode two men; fine, tall, sturdy
fellows they were, perhaps ten or more years older than Holt, but
with strong faces, keen eyes, and muscles that looked like iron.
They saluted Holt as if he were their military officer, and one rode
close to him and said a few words in a low tone. Holt nodded
gravely, his fine, boyish face taking on maturer lines as he gave
attention to the message, and uttered his brief, ready directions,
utterly unintelligible to the girl who looked on in bewilderment at
this new phase of the young man's character.
The second rider had halted at a respectful distance, without a
glance in her direction, and waited as a trained servitor should do.
Devotion to Holt and absolute obedience were in the attitude of both.
The interview occupied scarcely a minute; then the two men wheeled,
saluted, and rode away once more into the woods.
"A little trouble at the mine," Holt explained, in answer to her
questioning glance. "It'll be all right now, since I have this paper
again. We haven't dared to exercise our water privileges as we
should and have been moving under difficulties, but now that I have
the grant there will be no further trouble. I'll take care it's put
where no one can steal it again."
"Oh, I'm so glad," breathed Jean, "but who are they?" pointing after
the two riders who were just disappearing behind the trees.
"My men," said Holt. "I have fifty-four of them, fine fellows every
one."
"Your men?" questioned Jean in surprise.
"They work for me--in the mine and around the place. I've picked
them up here and there. That big fellow that waited--I took him down
from a tree where they'd hung him up for stealing a horse. He's the
one I told you of--I thought he was dead, but there he is! He
wouldn't take a pin now that belonged to anyone else. He's the
straightest fellow on the place. The other one was almost gone with
fever when I met up with him. We've nursed each other twice apiece
since then. There are others I'd like you to know if things weren't
as they are. You'd see the good in them, I'm sure. You seem to
understand."
Jean's eyes were alight as she watched him.
"They know you!" she exclaimed. "They've seen the real _you_, and
they trust you! I saw it in their eyes."
"Maybe," he said, returning her look. "They'd fight for me any time
I asked it; and they'd die for me if it came to that."
"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for
his friends." The words seemed to come of themselves from the girl's
lips as she watched the man in wonder and admiration.
"You took a mighty slim chance on yours for me about an hour ago."
Holt's eyes spoke volumes. "Why didn't you give him the paper? It
was by far the safest thing for you to do. Didn't you know that?"
"Yes," said the girl, her soft lips setting in a firm line and her
chin taking the tilt that gave her sweet face its strength and
fineness. "But the paper was yours, and I was sure it was valuable.
I didn't trust him."
"And you trust me yet, in spite of all the things I know you must
have heard about me?"
"I trust you _forever_!"
Her eyes were clear and steady, and her voice was sweet with a ring
of triumph in it as she made the declaration.
For a moment they looked at one another with a great blinding light
of deep gladness shining from their eyes; then the man bowed his head
gravely and, reaching over, took her hand in a strong, quick clasp.
"You shall never have cause to lose that trust," he murmured
solemnly, and turning, rode back into the woods and left her to go on
alone through the town.