When 'Bear Cat' Went Dry Part 44

kiver ye up, an' read ter ye twell ye goes ter sleep."

But Mrs. Stacy responded with a short laugh that rasped bitterly.

"Turney air a hidin' out ter-night in thet small cavern whar ye tuck Mr. Henderson oncet. I've done carried him victuals over thar twict since he's been livin' like a varmint in the woods. I war jest makin'

ready ter sot out ergin. Ther riders hain't a-meetin' ter-night an'

he's thar all by hisself."

"Whar's George Kelly?" demanded Blossom quickly, for she was to some degree initiated in the operating methods of Turner and his followers.

"He's done fared over inter Virginny ter visit his wife. She's ailin'."

"But I don't understand. What does Turner need?"

The mother trembled with a sudden access of the terror she had been fighting back. Her voice rose shrilly and broke: "He needs ter be fore-warned. His enemies hev diskivered whar he's at--an' they aims ter trap him thar ter-night."

The color went out of the girl's face as she questioned tensely.

"How--how did ye hear tell of this?"

"A leetle while back I heered a shout outside, an I riz' up an' went ter ther door. Thar wasn't n.o.body in sight, but I found this hyar letter stuck thar with a pin. Whosoever hit war thet left hit, hed done went away." She held out a clenched, talon-like hand and opened it, and on a small sheet of ruled paper, printed out unevenly, Blossom read the anonymous message: "I can't be seen giving you this letter because I'm accounted to be Kinnard's man. They knows where Bear Cat is hiding to-night and are planning according. Git him warned straightway.--A Friend."

"Thet's all I knows," moaned the mother, "but thar hain't n.o.body with him--an' he don't suspicion nothin'."

The girl was already throwing her discarded shawl about her shoulders.

"You go right back ter bed. I reckon ye kin trust me ter warn him." Her eyes were full of warlike fire. "I kin go quicker then you, an' I won't pause till I've got thar an' told him."

"Ye'll fare right back again, won't ye?" quavered the sick woman. "An'

fotch me tidin's--thet he got away safe."

Blossom had been a little stoop-shouldered of late with that carelessness of carriage that comes from grief, but now again she was lance-like in her straightness and vibrant with the determination of a Valkyr.

"I'll come back ter ye," she vowed and then she burst out: "I reckon this day I kin pay back some leetle part of ther debt I owes to Turney.

G.o.d knows he's done enough fer me!"

She went over the steep path with the light fleetness of some wild thing--and of course she did not know that after her, unseen and silent as a shadow, followed a slouching figure, using her as a guide. She did not know either that, as she left the more traveled ways and turned abruptly into the thicketed forest, that figure was joined by two others, or that one of them, after a few whispered words, struck off to communicate with more distant members of the hidden pack.

A wild haste drove her for she knew that Turner trusted the secrecy of that cave, known, as he thought, only to his friends. Every moment she could gain for him would mean a distance put between him and his peril.

Several times she paused just long enough to look about and a.s.sure herself that she was not being followed--and then went forward again, falsely rea.s.sured by the silence and seeming emptiness of the wintry woods.

Pantingly she came to the mouth of the cave. Before it lay a small plateau, gashed across by a gulch that went down a sheer hundred feet and littered with piles of broken and gigantic rock. The opening to the grotto itself was tucked back between these great bowlders, and for that reason had remained so nearly undiscovered. Just outside the fissure, she halted and gave the old signal of the owl's call. Thrice she repeated it, and then as she stood with her hands pressed to her heart, she saw a face appear, and a moment later Bear Cat had thrust himself lengthwise out of the bottle neck, and stood at her side, his face glowing with surprised delight for her coming.

"Blossom!" he cried. "What brought ye?" and in his voice throbbed the rebirth of wild hope for the miracle which, he had told himself, would never come back into his life.

But Blossom laid a sobering hand on his arm and talked rapidly.

"Thar's dire need of haste an' little time fer speech. Yore enemies know you're here an' ter-night they're comin' ter hem ye in--an slay ye. Fer G.o.d's sake go--swiftly!"

The man's face, which had softened into tenderness, stiffened. He gulped down his disappointment and said simply, "I'm obleeged ter ye, Blossom," then went into the black cranny. The girl could see the dim glow of his electric torch flas.h.i.+ng there, but as she waited she heard something from the other direction which made her heart miss its beat; the sound of furtively guarded voices somewhere in the litter of bowlders. Instantly she, too, disappeared into the fissure.

"They're hyar a'ready," she panted. "I've done come too late. Thar hain't but ther one way out, neither, is thar?"

For an instant Turner Stacy stood immovable, listening as his thumb slid back the hammer of his rifle.

"Thar hain't but one way _you_ kin go out," he told her--"ther same way ye come in."

His face was grim and hurriedly he went on: "But hyar of late I diskivered a leetle hole jest big enough ter crawl through--way back at ther end of a small gulch. Thar's a tree-top nigh by--but ye hes ter dive fer hit offen ther edge of ther clift--and trust G.o.d ter aid ye when ye seeks ter ketch hold of a limb. I reckon mebby I mout go out thet way--ef I war by myself."

But Blossom's eyes had lighted with a sudden hope.

"Ye've got ter try hit, then, Turney," she declared staunchly. "Take yore pistol an' leave me yore rifle. I'll make 'em think ye're still hyar fer a spell anyhow."

"Does ye reckon I'd go away an' leave ye hyar ter them wolves?"

questioned the man scornfully, and with palms against his chest, as if she would push him bodily back to the one chance of escape, she spoke urgently:

"In thet leetle hole thar, one gun kin hold back a whole mob an' ef ye gits away I reckon ye kin git some friends an' come back, kain't ye?"

"Ef I kin make Pinnacle Rock an' light a fire thar--I kin hev a score of men hyar in two hours' time--but two hours----" He broke off with a groan.

"Then do hit. I kin hold 'em back longer then thet. Ef they does git in, I'll pretend ye jest left by ther backway. They won't harm me nowhow."

He doubted that, but he knew that his staying meant ultimate death for both of them, and that once outside he had a chance to rally his forces for her rescue. For a little longer his reluctance to abandon her even temporarily held him in quandary, then realizing that it offered the only hope, he seized her fingers in a tight grasp and whispered:

"Farewell--then. G.o.d be with ye twell I gits back."

He worked his way along a twisting pa.s.sage hitherto known only to spiders and bats until at length he could see a yellow shred of westering sky through a narrow rent in the blackness. As he edged his body through the rift he heard a rifle shot reverberating brokenly through the twisting tunnels, followed by a dogged spatter of response--or was it only echo? He ground his teeth and poised himself precariously on a foothold, inches wide, and treacherously insecure. He measured the distance to a hickory branch that the wind rocked and between its support and himself was emptiness. The scaly bark of the limb for which he must leap was near the top of a tree whose roots were planted fifty feet lower.

Turner gathered his muscles into elastic readiness--and plunged outward. There was an instant of terrific uncertainty, then he swung pendulum-like, upon a support that sagged and gave under his weight as he hooked his knees about the branch and drank in a deep breath of thanksgiving.

Blossom, kneeling unseen and partly protected by a sandstone barricade, had been peering out at the broken gulches which were already filling with a dusky gray. She must keep those alley ways clear and there were two of them. A twilight depression gnawed at her heart.

Finally she saw a furtive and leering face thrust slowly and cautiously around the angle of stone. Her pulses pounded, but her rifle was trained, and her hands unshaking. For the first time since Henderson's murder, something like a thrill warmed her veins. Now she could hit back and avenge and take a man's chance of death in doing it. Then the man, bent on reconnaissance, ventured a forward step. He had not come quite far enough to see the opening itself though he knew that it must be hidden somewhere among those bowlders. He peered with lynx-like eagerness--ready to leap back if need be--and Blossom pressed her trigger. Without a groan the figure wilted down and lay in grotesque shapelessness between the rocks.

The fusillade which came in response was random and ineffective, and the girl, nerved to battle, found the long and anxious silence which ensued a purgatory of suspense. At the end she knew they would attempt to overwhelm defense in a charge and the pa.s.sing minutes ate like decay into the tissue of her courage. Then what she dreaded came. They were making a rush through both alleys at once. If they succeeded in crossing the twenty feet of open danger, they could spread out on each side of the cave's mouth, themselves safe by reason of the angle, and seal the place up like a tomb.

Yet the first a.s.sault broke into demoralized flight under her fierce welcome of fire and two other a.s.sailants fell wounded. Once more soundless minutes dragged by in interminable suspense--then as the second charge was launched, Blossom's rifle jammed its mechanism and became dead in her hands. She threw it down and ran toward the pa.s.sage at the back. As it narrowed until she had to go on hands and knees, she heard voices inside the cave--and then for the first time her nerves snapped and she fainted.

CHAPTER XXV

When the curtain of unconsciousness rolled up again Blossom was no longer in the cave, but was lying on the ground between the rocks outside. It was dark now, but a lantern was lighted near at hand, and her wrists and ankles ached with the bite of knotted ropes.

Although she could see no one, she had the distinct sense of eyes gazing at her from somewhere beyond the narrow circle of light and as she stirred uneasily, she heard a voice that seemed to come from behind the sandstone at her right. "She's done come ter herself. Now we've need ter hasten." Then from her left a sugar-loaf bowlder appeared to question her.

"Whar did he go to? You knows an' we knows ye know--an' we don't aim ter be trifled with neither. Ef ye speaks out honest an' ready, we'll go an' git him fust an' then come back an' sot ye free afterwards."