"Now, step out, young feller," muttered Dusky Dick, pricking Stevens slightly with the point of his bared knife, "and remember that if you rouse them up, their first shot must take you. Pleasant, ain't it?" and he again gave vent to a fiendish laugh.
John dared not remonstrate, and obeyed the impulse given him by the renegade, slowly advancing toward the log-cabin. Nearly two hundred yards of clearing had to be traversed, and as may be imagined, it was a trying ordeal for the young man's nerves, who knew not at what moment a shot from his friends might sound his death-knell.
But in this he was agreeably disappointed, for the side of the cabin was gained in safety. Not a sound broke the stillness that filled the clearing, save the usual hum and chirping of the summer insects. A silence as of death seemed upon every thing.
Dusky Dick advanced to the door and gently rapped with his knuckles. No answer; only the echo of the knock replied. Again and again he repeated it, with the same result.
A glad hope sprung up in the heart of the young settler. He believed that the family had taken alarm and sought safety in flight.
This same idea struck Dusky Dick, and he thumped loudly upon the door. Then with a wild, angry cry he rushed forcibly against it. Still no answering sound broke the silence.
"The birds have flown!" uttered a savage, in a tone of disgust.
"Break down the door and let's see," cried Dusky Dick, with a bitter oath.
A simultaneous rush of several sturdy forms, broke down the fastenings of the door, and then Dusky Dick rushed into the house. He could hear no signs of its being occupied, and then hastily struck a light. As the glare filled the room, an angry roar broke from his lips.
The floor was strewn with various articles, whose disorder told of great haste; that told the renegade his anticipated victims had indeed taken the alarm and had fled from the impending peril. Now he bitterly cursed his folly in leaving the building unguarded, after his vain attempt at compromise.