“She’s gone!” he screamed. “Who hez robbed me of my child?”
“Hyar’s a bit of paper, old man,” said one of the trappers. “We found it on a split stick near the door.”
Old Pegs cast it from him with a roar of anger.
“D’ye think I kin read now? Whar’s Myrtle; thet’s what I want ter know.”
“I can read,” said one of the scouts, picking up the paper. “Shall I, old man?”
Old Pegs nodded with a savage look on his face, and the young man read the paper.
“This is to certify, that having come to the conclusion that the man known as Old Pegs is not lawfully the guardian of his lovely daughter—so called—therefore I, Rafe Norris, assume the guardianship, with the intention of making her my wife.
Rafe Norris.”
The old man took up the letter and looked at it grimly. “I’ll wad it round a bullet, one day,” he muttered. “God help him, when we meet ag’in. He’ll git this paper back.”
CHAPTER IX.
UNBIDDEN GUESTS.
We left Myrtle in the cabin when her father rushed out as the crack of rifles announced the attack on the camp of the brigade. She felt no fear at being left alone, but closing the doors she read for some hours in her book and then retired for the night. She was up early, for the scoundrels might pass the cabin on their return and she was always on her guard. Stealing out while it was yet dusk, with her rifle ready, she spent an hour in scouting and satisfied herself that no one was lurking about. Returning to the cabin she laid her rifle and revolvers on a bench by the door and went down to the spring after a bucket of water. For half an hour she dallied there by the spring. Then taking up the bucket she returned to the cabin and was putting the bucket on its bench when she heard a voice say: