“I say, Lyman,” said the young physician, after his friend had recovered his senses, “that blow you got on the head is what is termed in legal phrase, ‘’Salt and battery,’ ain’t it?”
“Yes,” replied the young lawyer, rubbing his sore head; “but, in this affair there is more ‘battery’ than ‘’sault’; however, I shall bring action at once for damages.”
“And try the case before—what is it?—oh, yes; the Aerial Demon,” said Willis, laughing.
“The Aerial Demon!” exclaimed Rainbolt, “have you seen that horrid, mysterious creature?”
“Yes; it passed over our camp an hour or so ago. Can you throw any light on the real nature of the mystery?”
“Nothing more than that it is the most frightful object I ever saw,” returned the ranger.
“Ay, now, and it’s yees that spakes the thruth loudly, for it’s mees that’s see’d the chreature twice, and both times it stharted polar icebergs down my back, so it did,” said Flick.
“Well,” said Rainbolt, “since I can be of no further service to you, gentlemen, I may as well take my departure. Should I succeed in rescuing your daughter, Mr. Sanford, I will communicate the fact to you at once,” and as he concluded, he took from his pocket a time-worn memoranda, and tearing out one of the stained leaves handed it to Colonel Sanford, saying: “Read that, Colonel Wayland Sanford, and good-night to you all,” and as he spoke the pet eagle arose into the air—the spirited mustang pricked up its ears, champed its bit impatiently, and the next moment Rodger Rainbolt, the ranger, was gone.
“He’s a curious fellow—a living mystery,” said Ralph Rodman; “but what ails you, colonel?—what ails you?”
“Oh! nothing, nothing but excitement, as usual,” replied the colonel, evasively; “but, let me see what the ranger wants me to read.”