“Who will dare to? who will have a reason to? We are all strangers to each other; no one will know that there is a motive for the deed. Men don’t commit crimes for nothing, you know. It will be set down by all as a blunder, not a premeditated act. It’s the most natural thing in the world for me, after you give the alarm, to fire at the first thing that approaches me.”
“Yes,” said the old man, convinced that the scheme was a good one. “Be careful; don’t make a mistake and hit me in the darkness.”
“Oh, no!” cried the son, “you just keep near the river; you can easily run faster than she can.”
And so the plot was arranged.
The pickets were relieved and Dick Hickman took his post to the west of the camp by the river. Then the elder Hickman went to the wagon that contained Leona. The poor girl had not thought of sleep; she was too anxious for the safety of her lover. She accepted the invitation to go out to Dave’s post with gladness, and the assurance of the old villain that all danger was over relieved her mind of a heavy load.
Eben Hickman and Leona, passed beyond the wagon-line, and walked into the darkness of the prairie. Dick at his post saw them coming and laid down flat on the ground, so that he would escape Leona’s notice.
Old Hickman and Leona passed on beyond the picket-line and walked a hundred yards or so out on the prairie.
“Are we near his post?” asked Leona, the dense gloom and stillness of the prairie waste striking a dread fear to her heart.
“Yes, just beyond us,” answered the man, “don’t you see him?” and he pointed before them in the darkness.