A ROUGH DIPLOMAT.
When Lena Forest came to a full realization of her changed position,
she was alone with Black John.
About them were rugged hills, hemming in a little valley, where the
captured Indian pony was grazing.
Black John had gone into camp there, and was cooking some meat he had
found on the Indian pony. He was not only tired, but by this time
ravenously hungry.
“Don’t be skeered,” he said, when he discovered that Lena was taking
note of her surroundings. “I don’t mean any harm to ye, not in the
least.”
She started up, staring about; then turned to him. Her face was
corpselike in its pallor, and she swayed as she stood up.
“Then, why did you bring me here; and why keep me here?” she said.
“Why don’t you join your men?”
Black John stooped to sniff the roasting meat before replying.
“Now I’ll tell ye,” he said; “and mebbe you won’t think it’s so bad.
I was your friend from the very first, but didn’t darst show it. The
men wanted you, and wanted your emeralds. What become of the emeralds
I don’t know, and jes’ now I don’t know where the other men aire.
They was scattered in that rumpus with the Injuns. You recollect the
Injuns, and what fools we was, in ridin’ up on ’em?”
He stroked his beard, ruminating.
“The boys was scattered by the Injuns. I got one of the Injun ponies,
and we come here on it; and I reckon we’re safe enough fer a while.”
“Won’t you leave me here,” she begged, “or take me back to my
friends?”
“What friends?”
“Mr. Cody, and--and the men who were with him. You don’t know where
Bruce Clayton is?”
“Nary, I don’t. He was with our crowd, when the Injuns hit us; but
where he went, and what become of him, I don’t know no more than you
do.” He inspected the meat. “Won’t you have somethin’ to eat?” he
asked, taking it from the fire and poking into it with his knife.
“This belonged to the Injun that owned the mustang, but I reckon as
he meant to eat it himself he didn’t pizen it. You look’s if you
needed to eat somethin’.”
“I couldn’t swallow a mouthful,” she protested. “Won’t you please let
me go, and let me try to find my way back?”
“That’s foolish, don’t ye think? Better eat some o’ this meat. It’s
good, and you need the stren’th it’ll give ye. Let me carve ye out a
bit of it.”
She protested again that she could not eat.
The outlaw seemed to want to argue the matter with her. What he
really wanted was to hear her talk, for he liked her voice, and to
make her forget if possible her condition. He was wondering how he
could gain her good will, and perhaps her liking. His ideas of women
were singular. He did not see why this girl might not come to like
him as much as he now liked her.
“I’ve seen sich,” he told himself. “Put a couple o’ strange dogs
together, and they’ll fight like time; but after they git acquainted
they’re li’ble to be the best of friends. And other animals the same
way. Why not humans?”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” he said, beginning to eat the roasted
meat. “I’ll try to find yer friends for ye, and hand you over to ’em.”
She sprang up and came toward him, wildly excited.
“Oh, if you will--if you will!”
He smiled into her flushed face.
“That’s what I’ll do. I dunno where they aire, and them Injuns may
have struck ’em and even wiped ’em out. I don’t think they did,
though. So, we’ll begin to look fer ’em right off. But if you’re to
try that, or try to do anything, you’ll need to do some eatin’. You
can’t go on much longer if you don’t. We’re stoppin’ here to give you
a chanct to rest, and the pony needs rest, too. The pony’s fillin’ up
on grass, showin’ how sensible he is.”
She shook her head, when he held out some of the meat to her.
“But if you don’t, why, ’tain’t no use fer you to try to do anything.
If you’re to find yer friends, you’ve got to have some stren’th, so
that you can do ridin’.”
“You’ll help find my friends?”
“Why, cert’in; ain’t I said so?”
“And Bruce?”
“Yes; we’ll look fer him, too. I see you don’t understand my
position?”
“No, I don’t,” she confessed frankly.
“Well, as I said, I was friendly toward you from the first, but
couldn’t do anything because of the other boys. I had to seem rough
to ye, on account of that.”
“You were the boss--the leader?”
“No, you’re mistaken; Toby Sam was the real boss.” He held out the
meat.
“Eat it, and you’ll feel better; and when we go on you’ll be in
better shape to do the ridin’ we’ve got to do if we strike them
friends of yours, if they’re livin’.”
She took the meat, and began to eat it.
“That’s right,” said he, smiling encouragement. “Now, as I said, I
couldn’t do anything so long as t’others was with me. But sense I’m
alone I can do as I please. You’ll find I’m not sich a bad man as
you’ve prob’bly been thinkin’.”
They rested by the stream nearly an hour. At the end of that time
Black John ascended the near-by hill to take a look over the country.
He came down hurriedly, and was much excited.
“Injuns!” he said. “We’ve got to slide out of this mighty quick, er
we won’t be goin’ at all. Wish’t I had another horse fer ye, but
you’ll have to ride in front of me, same’s before.”
He helped her to mount, and she assisted herself very materially,
for, believing him, she was anxious to get out of the valley. Then
they rode away hastily, heading once more southward.
She noted the direction.
“This takes me farther and farther from my friends!” she protested.
“We’re riding southward!”
“Yes, but when Injuns aire in the trail right behind us we ain’t much
choice as to the direction we take. The thing to do is to move as
fast as we can out of the territory. We’ve got a start of ’em; yit
I’m expectin’ to hear their yells soon.”
What Black John had really seen from the top of the hill was Buffalo
Bill and his friends, coming toward the valley at a fast gallop,
following his trail.