"Yes," answered Nell, simply.
"I hope--I pray Joe comes back, but if he doesn't--Nell--won't you
care a little for me?"
He received no answer. But Nell turned her face away.
"We both loved him. If he's gone forever our very love for him
should bring us together. I know--I know he would have wished that."
"Jim, don't speak of love to me now," she whispered. Then she turned
to the others. "Come quickly; here are great clusters of wild
clematis and goldenrod. How lovely! Let us gather a quantity."
The young men had almost buried the girls under huge masses of the
beautiful flowers, when the soft tread of moccasined feet caused
them all to turn in surprise. Six savages stood waist-deep in the
bushes, where they had lain concealed. Fierce, painted visages
scowled from behind leveled rifles.
"Don't yell!" cried a hoarse voice in English. Following the voice
came a snapping of twigs, and then two other figures came into view.
They were Girty and Silvertip.
"Don't yell, er I'll leave you layin' here fer the buzzards," said
the renegade. He stepped forward and grasped Young, at the same time
speaking in the Indian language and pointing to a nearby tree.
Strange to relate, the renegade apparently wanted no bloodshed.
While one of the savages began to tie Young to the tree, Girty
turned his gaze on the girls.
Pages:
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167