The cabin stood unharmed in the center of the clearing, and a light gleaming out from the window told him that they had not all retired as yet.
“Thank fortin we’re in time, Susannah,” he exclaimed, as he paused for a moment to wipe the profuse perspiration from his brow. “I wonder what it is that keeps ’em up so late? I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Ned Tapley was here sitting Ruth up. I hope he is, ’ca’se thar’ll be one more shot on our side. Ned can handle a rifle nigh about as well as I can you, Susannah.”
He did not lose many moments here, but with long strides he crossed the clearing and approached the cabin. Noiselessly he came up and peered in through the crevice of the window through which the light shone out.
He was right in his surmises. Ned Tapley was seated within, with Ruth’s head resting upon his shoulder. His arm was about her waist, and in their happiness they had little thought of the danger which menaced them, or that other eyes than their own were looking upon them.
Dick hugged his rifle close to him.
“They’re as loving as you and I,” he said to himself. “We’ve been in pretty ’tarnal tough scrapes afore now, Susannah, and if signs don’t fail they’ll be too, afore they’re out of this. I hate to disturb ’em but it’s got to be done. So here goes.”
Suiting the action to the word, he rapped loudly upon the door, bringing the startled lovers to their feet.
“Who is there?” demanded Ned.
“Dick. Open the door and let me in.”
“It is the scout,” said Ruth. “Where can he have come from at this time of night?”