I could see that Stebbins was desirous of parrying the question. He gave an evasive answer. “Who knows? He has likely been in the hands of some Indians—the paint shows that—and preferring the company of whites, he has followed us, and strayed into the camp.”
“Did he come with them ere Injuns that’s outside?” quickly inquired Holt.
“No?—I fancy not with them,” answered the Mormon, in whose glance I could detect the falsehood.
“Let’s go an’ see!” proposed the squatter, making a step towards the entrance of the corral.
“No—not to-night, Holt!” hastily interposed the other, and with an eagerness that showed the interest he felt in procrastinating the inquiry. “We must not disturb them to-night. In the morning, we can see them, and learn all about it.”
“Durn about disturbin’ them! Why not to-night, instead o’ the mornin’?”
“Well—if you wish to know to-night, I’ll go myself, and speak to the guide. No doubt, if the dog came with them, he can tell us all about it? You stay here till I return?”
“Don’t be long then. Ho, Wolf! ole fellur! Injuns have had ye, eh? Durn it, old boy! I’m as gled to see ye, as if—”
An unexpected reflection was called forth by the form of speech—not that to which he was about to give words—but one whose bitterness, not only hindered him from saying what he had intended, but caused him instantly to abandon his caresses of the dog. Staggering back to his seat, he dropped heavily down upon it—at the same time burying his face in his hands. The expression upon the Mormon’s features, as he parted from the fire, was one of demoniac significance. Clearly he comprehended all! I saw him gliding off through, the corral, with silent stealthy tread, like some restless spirit of darkness. Here and there he paused; and for a moment held one in conversation—then quickly passing on to another. There was no mistaking the object of these manoeuvres. As clearly as if declared. I divined their intent. He was summoning the “Destroyers!”
Not a moment was to be lost. I rushed back to the rear of the waggon; and with open arms gave utterance to my anguished appeal. But it needed not that, Marian had been, before me. Both she and her sister had witnessed the scene within the corral. Both already foresaw the coming storm: and ere my lips could close, after delivering the impassioned speech, Lilian Holt lay upon my bosom! It was the first time that fair cheek had pressed upon my shoulder—the first time those soft arms had entwined around my neck! Not for an instant dared I indulge in the sweet embrace. If we lingered, it might be the last! To the tents! to the tents! I knew that the horses would be waiting. A signal already given should have warned my comrades; and I had no conjecture, no fear about their being in readiness. As I expected, we found them all—both men and horses—the steeds saddled, bridled, and ready. The Mexican was there with the rest. The apparition of the dog had given him his cue; and he had hurriedly returned to the tents. We thought not of these, nor of the other paraphernalia—neither our mules nor their packs. Our lives and liberty alone concerned us. My Arab neighed joyfully, as I sprang into the saddle. He was proud to carry that fairer form upon the croup; and, as he bounded forward over the plain, his triumphant snort told, that he understood the glorious service he was called upon to perform.