“All right; I will take the savage. Never fear for me.”
Simultaneously the rifles came to their shoulders, and pointed like the finger of fate toward the doomed ones. Simultaneously their sharp crack broke upon the stillness, and at the same instant the two victims fell forward upon their faces, dead.
Irene Stuart was still gazing in wonder for the explanation of this, when her lover came rushing toward her, and the next moment she was enfolded in his arms.
Abe Moffat scratched his head until they were through, and then suggested that they take the back trail. This they did until they were far removed from the dead bodies, when, as all three were thoroughly exhausted, they halted for the night.
Bright and early, after a refreshing breakfast, the homeward journey was resumed, and just as night set in they came in sight of the settlement. As they looked toward it Kingman said:
“As we are now safely back again, and our marriage has been postponed several times, don’t you think it is about time it was consummated?”
“You need wait no longer, dearest,” said she, leaning on his arm; “you have been very good to submit to my whims thus far.”
* * * * * * *
It was a genuine old-fashioned wedding, such as our grandmothers tell about. Fiddling, and dancing, and mirth, and cider, and apples, and jollification were the distinguishing features. All went as merry as a goodly number of marriage bells, and it was not until the “wee small hours ayant the twal” that the parties separated and went to their homes.
The death of Johnson the renegade, was a relief to all the settlements. His influence, beyond all question, had incited most of the massacres, and now that he was gone, there was some hope felt that peace might be reasonably looked for.