Well,while she was setting there waiting to be searched for,of a sudden a great big Injun in a blanket and feathers and red paint jumps down beside her and grabs her and picks her up,and about as quick as she knew anything,she was gagged and bound and being bore along through the air.I reckon it was a terrible moment for her.Now there is a crevice in the top of the mountain that nobody don't never explore,because it's just a crack in the rock that ain't to be climbed out of without a ladder.So the Injun carries her there,and lets her down with a rope that it seems he must of had handy somewheres,and he puts out;and there she is,in a holler in the mountain,not able to move or cry out no more than if she'd been captured by a regular highwayman.
Wilfred stared at Willock in complete bewilderment.Willock chuckled.
There was a terrible time!remarked Bill.
Dark was a-coming on before the party got plumb scared,Willock continued,but they brushed and combed that mountain looking for the poor lost lady,and as I tells 'em she's a-hiding a-purpose,they think it a pore sort of joke till midnight catches 'em mighty serious.Torches is carried here and there and everywhere,but no use.You would think that the next day the crowd would naturally look down in that crevice,but that's because I've posted you up on where she is.There's lots of other crevices,and no reason as they can see why Miss Sellimer should take the trouble to worm herself down into any of 'em--and as nobody saw that Injun,how could they suspicion foul play?It must of been AWFUL for pore Miss Sellimer,all bound and gagged in that horrible way,but it takes heroic treatment to get some cures--and so Lahoma went with 'em to spend the winter.But the Indian-?
Needn't think about HIM no more,son,we got no more use for THAT Injun.Well,on the next day,Lahoma is looking everywhere,being urged on by me,and lo,and behold!when she comes to that crevice --looked like she couldn't be induced to go there of her own will,but it was brung about finally--what does she see but a tomahawk lying right at the edge what must have been dropped there recent,or the crowd would have saw it the day before.It come to her that Miss Sellimer is a prisoner down below.She looks,but it's too dark to see nothing.Not telling nobody for fear of starting up false hopes,she gets a light and lowers it--and there is that miserable young woman,bound and gagged and her pretty dress all tore.Lahoma jumps to her feet to raise the cry,when she discovers a ladder under a boulder which the Injun must have put there meaning to descend to his victim when the coast was clear.Down she skins,and frees Miss Sellimer,who's half dead,poor young lady!Lahoma comes up the ladder and meets me and I carries her out just like a feather--Well,can't you imagine the rest?I reckon if Miss Sellimer lives a thousand years she'll never forget the awfulness of that big Injun and the angel sweetness of the little gal that saved her.Why,if Lahoma had asked for the rings off her fingers,she could have had 'em,diamonds and all.
Wilfred rose and went to stare at the darkness from the small square window.Not a word was spoken for some time.At last the silence was broken by the Indian--UGH!grunted Red Feather.
Just so!remarked Wilfred,with exceeding dryness.
What are you thinking,Wilfred?demanded Brick Willock.I'd have thought Lahoma would recognize the ladder.
So she done;but couldn't the Injun have stole my ladder and carried it to that boulder?Just as soon as Miss Sellimer was well enough to travel,NOTHING couldn't hold her in these parts,and that's why your brother had to leave before seeing you--he's setting to Miss Sellimer,and if Lahoma don't git him away from her,I reckon he's a goner!
Bill Atkins spoke vaguely.It wasn't none of my doings.Wilfred looked steadily at Willock.What about your whiskers?
Oh,as to them,it was like old times;you takes a cloth and cuts it out--painted red--Psha!What are we talking of?Bill,let's show him her letter--what do you say?
I reckon it wouldn't hurt,Bill conceded.
How'd you like it,Wilfred?We can't produce our little gal to keep you company,but her letter would sort of be like hearing her talk,wouldn't it?And if you stay with us a spell,we'll let you read 'em as they come.
Wilfred perceived that Willock was anxious to get his mind off the harrowing adventure of the crevice,and as he was eager to hear the letter,and as Brick and Bill were anxious to hear it again,nothing more was said about the big Injun.
Who'll read it?asked Bill,as he drew the precious letter from the strong box behind the stove.
Let Wilfred do the deed,Willock suggested.It travels slow in my company,and though Bill reads 'er correct,he does considerable droning.I expect if Wilfred reads it with unction,it'll sound like a new document.
Wilfred drew the only stool in the room up beside the lantern,and Bill and Brick disposed themselves on the bench,each holding his pipe on his knee as if fearful of losing a word.Red Feather,his beady eyes fastened on the young man's face,sat gracefully erect,apparently alert to all that was going on.The lantern reddened the strong clean-cut face of the young man,and touched the upturned pages to the whiteness of snow.A sudden wind had sprung up,and the flaring blaze from the open stove-door touched to vivid distinctness the giant,the old man and the Indian.Brick closed the stove-door,and the sudden gloom brought out in mellow effect Wilfred's animated face,the dull yellow wall against which his sturdy shoulder rested,and the letter in his hand.
