On the morning following the day on which the young stranger, Harvey
Winthrop, had been shot down in the little ravine by the Kanawha
river, and Virginia was carried off by the villainous tools of Clement
Murdock, to the lonely cabin on the other bank of the stream to that
on which the settlement of Point Pleasant was located, Murdock again
stood before the cabin. The stranger, Benton, and the drunken vagabond,
Bob Tierson, had remained by the cabin, still wearing their Indian
disguises.
“How does the girl bear it?” Murdock asked, on joining the others. The
three stood within the wood just beyond the little clearing.
“Oh, well enough,” answered Benton. “I took her in some breakfast this
morning. She’s been crying all night, I reckon. I spoke Injun-fashion
to her. She implored me to take her back to the settlement and promised
all sorts of rewards.”
“She’ll be quite ready then to look upon me in the light of a
deliverer, I suppose,” said Murdock, a smile lighting up his sallow
features.
“All you’ve got to do is to go in and win,” said Bob, with a grin.
“That is just what I intend to do,” replied Murdock, enjoying his
triumph in anticipation.
“By the way, are they making any row in the settlement over the girl’s
disappearance?” asked Benton, carelessly.
“Yes, all the settlers have been scouring the forest since last night
when her absence was discovered,” answered Murdock.
“And her father--the old General--what does he say about it?”
“He is nearly crazy over the disappearance of his daughter. I nearly
felt pity for the old man, but I consoled myself by thinking how great
his joy would be, when I brought his daughter back to him, and how glad
he would be to receive as his son-in-law the man who, at the peril of
his life, rescued her from the murdering red-skins.”
Murdock smiled grimly as he spoke.
“Well, dog my cats if it ain’t as good as a show,” said Bob, with a
laugh all over his huge, ugly face at the idea. “I shall have to be
’round to witness the interesting meeting.”
“Yes; you must make yourself scarce as soon as I take the girl off, for
you’ll have the whole country on your trail. Of course I shall have to
describe where I found her.”
“But, s’pose they do come arter us, how kin we kiver up the trail?”
asked Bob.
“Oh, easy enough,” replied Murdock; “the moment you strike the trail on
the other bank of the Kanawha, who can tell whether you go up or down?
There’s too many fresh marks on it for any one to be able to pick out
ours.”
“There isn’t any danger,” said Benton, calmly.
“Well, I’m glad of that, for I don’t like any more danger than I’ve got
to scratch through,” observed Bob, and to do him justice he spoke the
truth. Bob’s reputation for bravery was not particularly good among the
settlers of Point Pleasant.
“Did they discover the body of the young man that you knocked over with
your rifle?” asked Benton.
“No,” replied Murdock, and a slight bit of uneasiness was plainly
perceptible in his tone.
“No?” said Benton, astonished.
“No,” again said Murdock, “and I am somewhat puzzled to account for it,
too. The searching parties must have passed through the ravine, it is
so near the settlement. I can not understand it at all. I am sure that
he was dead when we left him. You examined him, Bob. Did he show any
signs of life?”
“Nary sign,” replied Bob, emphatically. But Bob’s examination of the
body of the man who had fallen by the bullet of Murdock’s rifle, had
been but a slight one, and Bob was not likely to be a very close
observer or be able to decide between life and death in a doubtful case.
“I can not understand it,” said Murdock, absently. He was indeed sorely
puzzled by the strange circumstance. The thought had occurred to him
that, possibly, the shot that he had aimed with such deadly intent at
the heart of his rival might have failed to accomplish the death of
the young stranger. Perhaps his rival still lived and might attempt
to wrest from him the prize he had toiled so to gain. The thought was
wormwood to him, yet he had brooded over it all the way through the
forest, thought of little else from the time he left the settlement at
Point Pleasant till he stood before the lonely cabin by the Kanawha.
“He may have escaped death, but yet I do not see how it can possibly
be. I am sure I hit him fairly, and I do not often have to fire twice
at one mark.”
“Why, thar ain’t a doubt but what he’s gone under,” cried Bob.
“But I do not understand how it is that the settlers in searching for
the girl did not come upon his body,” said Murdock.
“It is strange,” observed Benton.
“Jist as easy as rollin’ off a log,” said Bob.
“What is?” questioned Murdock.
“The reason why they didn’t find him.”
“Is there a reason?”
“Of course,” replied Bob, confidently. “Didn’t you tumble him over just
before nightfall?”
“Yes.”
“Well, do you s’pose the wolves would let him lay there all night? No,
sir.”
“The wolves, possibly, may have made away with the body, but yet the
bones would remain,” Murdock said, thoughtfully.
“Why, no,” said Bob, “the wolves would naturally drag the body off into
the woods and the bones would be left thar!”
Murdock breathed easier after this possible solution of the mystery. He
had had a dreadful suspicion that he might see again in the flesh the
man whose life he had tried to take.
“Now to put my plan in execution,” Murdock said. “I shall enter
the cabin by the hole in the ground at the back of the shanty, and
represent to the girl that, at the peril of my life, I have come to
save her.”
“Oh, it will work easy enough,” said Bob.
“I hope so; you had better wait till I get out of sight with the girl;
then make your way back to the settlement,” said Murdock.
“All right,” replied Bob, while Benton silently nodded his head.
Then Murdock left the two and took a circle through the wood which
would bring him to the back of the cabin.
Bob watched Murdock until he was out of sight; then he turned,
abruptly, to Benton.
“Say, got any more corn-juice?” he asked.
“No,” replied Benton, in a surly way.
“That’s a pity,” said Bob, reflectively.
“What did you want to go and drink it all up for?” asked Benton,
indignantly.
Benton that morning had produced a large flask of whisky, and left it
with Bob while he went off to shoot a squirrel for breakfast. On his
return he found that Bob had drank up the entire contents of the flask
and was in a drunken slumber. He had just awakened out of it when
Murdock came.
“It was ’tarnal good corn-juice,” said Bob, smacking his lips at the
remembrance.
“Well, you didn’t leave any for me to taste, so I don’t know whether it
was or not,” said Benton, in ill-humor.
“You didn’t come back, an’ I make a p’int never to let whisky spile
when I’m ’round to drink it up,” exclaimed Bob.
“The next time you get any of my whisky to drink, I reckon you’ll know
it,” said Benton, significantly.
“Well, you needn’t get riled at a feller,” replied Bob.
From where the two stood they commanded a view of the cabin. Their
astonishment was great when they beheld Murdock come from behind
the cabin in evident agitation. He stopped before the door of the
log-house, which was fastened on the outside by a rude bar--Murdock’s
device to prevent the escape of the prisoner. Then he beckoned for the
two to come to him.
Astonished, they obeyed the gesture. Evidently something was the matter.
“Who saw the girl this morning?” demanded Murdock, when they approached.
“I did,” responded Benton.
“At what time?”
“Just after sunrise.”
“And you have watched the cabin since then?”
“No, I was off in the woods for a little while.”
“But _you_ remained,” Murdock said, turning to Bob; “you watched the
cabin in his absence?”
“Of course I did,” responded Bob, stoutly. “I never took my eyes off of
it.” Considering that he had been fast asleep for about two hours, of
which time Benton had been away, Bob told his story with a good grace.
“I can not understand it,” muttered Murdock, an angry cloud upon his
brow. “The door is secure; the log behind, just as I left it.”
“Why, what’s the matter, Clem?” asked Bob, who saw plainly that
something had gone wrong, though what it was, he could not guess.
“Look for yourselves,” cried Murdock, angrily, throwing open the door
of the cabin as he spoke.
Eagerly the two looked in.
The cabin was empty! The girl was gone!
With blank faces the three looked at each other.
The girl had been spirited out of their hands by some means, but how,
they could not tell. There was no possible solution to this mystery.
No way by which the girl could escape, and yet she was gone. Vanished
without a trace of the manner of her escape. Murdock was beaten, but
how or by whom he could not even guess.