When we raise the curtain once more upon our characters, it is after the lapse of three months. A quarter of a year, that has not been uneventful to those in whom we are interested; but we can not linger upon them. A brief glance at the leading episodes is all.
The unfortunate death of James Meagreson changed the entire plans of the outlawed couple—father and son. But first of all James Duaber announced to his followers his intention of leaving them, and for the future leading an honest life.
Some of them murmured, but their chief was too highly esteemed and respected, for them to raise any serious opposition. Some few of their number joined him in his resolve, but the majority determined to continue on; the wild free life having charms they could not resist. But it was agreed to leave the neighborhood, and ply their calling elsewhere.
So their attention was only turned to the vindication of Henry Duaber's honor, as the father was totally unknown to the settlers, and the charges brought against him had long since passed into oblivion. Their first move was to secretly abduct Frank Dalton, and when he was confronted with Wesley Sprowl, and found that his perjury had been discovered, he promised to make restitution as far as lay in his power, at any time he was called upon.
Thus prepared, Henry Duaber boldly returned to the settlement, where he was once more arrested by the excited vigilance committee. His trial came off in good time, and thanks to the candor of his witnesses, he was triumphantly acquitted.
None were more cordial and sincere in their congratulations, than Neil McGuire and "Honest Jim" Henderson, who declared his bar was free to everybody, upon the joyous occasion; and never before, in the memory of "the oldest inhabitants," had there been so many "exhilarated" men to be seen, at one time, as upon that afternoon.
There was some talk about giving the perjured witnesses a taste of "birch law," but thanks to the firm opposition of Henry and others, it was not carried into effect. There was one familiar face missing among the crowd, but none regretted this fact. Polk Redlaw was not in the best of odor among his quondam associates, and did not make his appearance.
The "big house" was reopened, and old aunt Eunice in her glory once more, never tiring of dwelling upon the prominent part she had played in the late events. Henry met with no further opposition from the father of Nora, and matters progressed finely between the young couple, and at the same time no less rapidly.
Henry was an ardent suitor, and pleaded his case so well that the "fatal day" was set; and when we reopen our chronicle it had arrived. Great preparations had been made, and although the weather was somewhat cool, it was decided to have a grand barbecue and dance by moonlight in the open air.
Upon the summit of a little knoll was a sort of pavilion, erected for the dancing. The floor was composed of puncheons, the flat side uppermost, rudely dressed with an ax. Seats of the same were ranged around the sides, each end resting upon a block of wood. At one extremity, projecting beyond the platform, a stand was erected for the musicians, of whom there were three, already present.