CHAPTER II.
AN ALARMING INTERRUPTION.
“If you think it best that I shall stay at home, I will do so,” said the young man, striving hard to repress the disappointment the words caused him.
“No; you shall not,” the wife hastened to interpose; “everything has been arranged for you to go with your uncle.”
“Was there ever a wife like you?” asked the captain admiringly; “there is more pluck in that little frame of yours, Edna, than in any one of my men. Very well; Avon will go with us, but I can tell you, I shall be uneasy until I get back again.”
“We have neighbors,” she continued, still busy with her sewing, “and if we need help, can get it.”
“I declare,” observed the captain grimly, “I forgot that; Jim Kelton’s cabin is only 11 eight miles to the south, and Dick Halpine’s is but ten miles to the east; if the redskins do molest you, you have only to slip in next door and get all the help you want.”
As we have said, it was a chilly night in early spring. The moon was hidden by clouds, so that one could see but a short distance on the open prairie. A fitful wind was blowing, adding to the discomfort of outdoors, and causing the interior of the cabin to be the more comfortable by contrast.
But a few rods to the westward was a growth of mesquite bush, in which the two mustangs that the captain and his nephew expected to ride were wandering at will. The animals were so trained that either would come at the whistle of his master, who, therefore, felt sure of finding him at command when wanted––that is, provided no outsiders disturbed him. This mesquite growth, consisting of open bushes which attain a height of eight or ten feet, extended over an area of several acres, affording the best kind of hiding-place for man or animal.