Had the moon answered her question she would have sprung to her feet in alarm. As it was, she sat quite still, sat there until with a sudden start she caught the slow and steady tramp of horses on the trail below.
“Who—who can that be?” she whispered as she shrank far back into the shadows.
She was soon enough to know. Two horses swung around a curve in the trail not five rods from the cabin. At that instant the moon, coming out from behind a filmy cloud, shone full upon them.
“A tall slim man and a short one,” she thought to herself. “Sounds vaguely familiar. Where have I—” She started suddenly. Florence had told her of them. These were the men who had held her prisoner when she had gone to the back of Pine Mountain to get an option on the Powell coal tract.
A second shock following this one came near knocking her from her chair. The tall man carried a bundle—something wrapped in a blanket.
“A child,” she whispered. A chill ran up her spine. She hardly knew why.
A second later she knew. As the horses wheeled sharply to avoid a great boulder that lay against the trail, the face of the child, lighted up by the moon, became plainly visible.
“Little Hallie!” Marion exclaimed under her breath.
In an instant she was out of her chair and in the room shaking the mountain girl and whispering hoarsely:
“Patience! Patience! Wake up! They’ve kidnapped little Hallie!”