Outside of this settlement, which was known as Clontarf’s Post, were a number of small fields of growing wheat and corn; while beyond the fields a herd of cattle in the care of two boys was grazing upon the prairie. Every thing, in fact, surrounding the post wore an air of the thrift, industry and enterprise of its settlers.
Upon Clontarf’s Post, Rollo the ranger fixed his gaze, as though something of uncommon interest depended upon the sight.
With the exception of a few children at play in front of the cabin doors, the young ranger could see no life in the settlement.
To obtain a better view of the place, he took his spy-glass and brought it to bear upon the settlement. A smile of satisfaction overspread his fair young face as he did so. Within one of the largest cabins whose door stood open, he saw a number of persons collected.
“They are all there,” he said, aloud. “The trial is still in session, and I fear it will go hard with poor Dick Sherwood. The settlers are very strict, and if they prove the facts under which Dick was captured, he is bound to hang—Ah! I am not a minute too soon!”
The last remarks were occasioned by seeing a number of men issue from the cabin into the yard. A general excitement seemed to prevail in their midst.
Bringing his glass to his eyes, the young ranger soon learned the cause of the settlers’ commotion.
In their midst stood a man with hands bound behind his back, and a rope around his neck; and upon him all faces were turned, scowling dark with vengeance and hate.
After a few moments’ delay in front of the cabin, the ranger saw the men move away toward the gate of the stockade, leading the bound man like a haltered beast in their midst.
The brow of the young ranger darkened.