The night Siwash Bill and Windy Pete had been foiled in their dastardly work within Buckskin Dan's cabin, they sat late in the store scheming for a speedy revenge. They were tigers in human forms, and by the flickering candle light their faces expressed the rage burning in their hearts. Oaths of the most blood-curdling nature poured in a sulphurous stream from their foul mouths. There was nothing about their appearance to arouse even the slightest feeling of sympathy or approval. Through years of baseness, guile and debauchery, they had extinguished the faintest spark of nobleness within their hearts. Subject to no restraint, free to follow the dictates of their own passions, they found it now unbearable to be checked in their mad career.
They sat for hours, and the candle spluttered low ere they ceased. Neither did they see two forms speeding swiftly and quietly from Dan's cabin to the canoe by the river's bank.
At length Windy Pete yawned, rose and threw himself into a bunk in the adjoining room, leaving Bill alone with the dying candle. The squaw man's eyes often turned toward the door as if expecting it to open at any minute, and that Nadu would enter. But as the night lengthened and she did not appear, a sigh of relief escaped his lips. He was sure that she had fulfilled his command, and had sped with the child down-stream. A sense of elation swept over him as he mused upon the success of his scheme. How easily he had cleared himself of the troublesome, suspicious squaw. He had the field to himself now, and there was no one to interfere with his design upon that woman at Old Meg's. She had repelled him, it was true, but what of that? There were other ways, and he thought with satisfaction upon her daily, lonely walk down the trail to the river. There would be no Nadu prowling around, either. He would have the beautiful woman to himself, and then he would see if she would scorn him again. To-morrow she would be there. He would wait no longer. And so he sat in the darkness, for the light had gone out. That kindly ministrant had slowly flickered down to nothing, and night mercifully blotted out the coarse passion-inflamed features of the wretched squaw man sitting alone in the room.
No sleep came to his eyes, and at the earliest break of day he arose, lighted the fire and prepared breakfast. Windy Pete still slept on, unheeding the noise his companion was making. Occasionally the squaw man went to the door and looked intently toward Buckskin Dan's cabin. The trapper was an unusually early riser, and when an hour or two had passed, and no smoke was seen issuing from the stovepipe stuck through the roof, the squaw man was much surprised. He talked it over with Pete when he awoke, and together the two watched the cabin for some sign of life. They waited and watched for the greater part of the morning, and observing nothing they went over to the building, and looked cautiously through the small window into the room. Seeing no one, they tried the door, and found it fastened.
Then from Bill's lips broke an exclamation of triumph.
"They've hiked, Pete! Ha, ha!" he cried. "We've routed the d— skunks at last. The place was gittin' too hot fer 'em. Oh, this is a good one. Say, old man, let's go over to the store an' have a drink on it. That was the best job we've done in a long time. I didn't think that spyin' Yellow-leg would show sich a chicken liver so soon. How he did squak last night when the light went out. Oh, oh, this is rich."
They retraced their steps, and had almost reached the store when their attention was arrested by the clatter of hoofs some distance away. Looking around they beheld Shifty Nick tearing down the trail, mounted upon his lean and wiry cayuse. He reined up close to where they were standing, with his characteristic brutality and string of oaths.
"Got the dough, Nick?" queried Bill.
"Dough be d—!" was the reply, as the rider leaped to the ground, tore off saddle and bridle, and turned the much-abused animal loose to seek for a meal as best it could. "Come inside, and we'll talk it over. I'm dead beat, an' almost starved."