The Frontiersman Part 30

This was certainly puzzling, and, receiving no reply, the native continued:

"Clistin burn mission house, eh?"

"No, no! A Christian would not do that. Only bad men. But look, all the men over there are not bad."

"Some good, eh?"

"Yes."

"Umph!" grunted the old woman, as she went back to her position on the floor, and continued her bead work.

As Constance left the lodge, she was surprised to find how dark it was.

She had not noticed how the time had pa.s.sed so intent had she been upon the object of her visit. She reproached herself for staying so late.

What would her father say? And how uneasy he would be.

Quickly she hurried down the trail, fearful lest she should come in contact with any of the miners. Turning up the little path leading to her cabin, she gave a sigh of relief. No one would be there, as it was out of the regular thoroughfare. Just at this moment, when she felt quite secure, a figure loomed up suddenly before her and barred the way.

With a cry of mingled surprise and fear, Constance started back as she recognized Pritchen's burly form, and heard his sneering laugh.

"Frightened, are you?" he asked. "I must be a monster."

"What do you mean?" Constance demanded, summoning what courage she could. "How dare you stop me here in this lonely place!"

"Oh, just out for a stroll and happened to pa.s.s this way."

"Well, let me past, please."

"Yes, when I get ready. T'ain't often I have the pleasure of meeting such a fine, high-spirited lady in my nightly meditations."

"Will you let me pa.s.s?"

"You seem to be in a hurry."

"I am. My father is waiting for me, and will be anxious."

"Ha, ha, that's a good one. Now, you wouldn't be a bit uneasy about your dad if I happened to be the parson, would you?"

Constance was getting desperate, and not wis.h.i.+ng to bandy words with the villain, made an effort to go by him.

"Oh, no, you don't do that," and an oath leaped from his vile mouth.

"Let me go by, I tell you."

"Yes, when I get what I want."

"Well, what is it? Tell me, quick."

"Visiting the old chief, eh?"

"Yes."

"Any success?"

"What do you mean?"

"Get the picture?"

"What picture? And why do you ask?"

"Oh, you know, well enough. The one the old devil has."

"He has my brother's picture, which I believe you gave him. I didn't get it, however, and maybe you'll tell me where you got it."

"h.e.l.l if I'll tell you, and what's more, I believe you've got it, and I want it."

"But I tell you I didn't get it."

"Oh, that's a fine story. Didn't get it! But I believe you did, and I want it."

Constance looked around, as if seeking some avenue of escape. What was she to do? Alone there with such a villain! Should she cry for help?

Pritchen seemed to read her thoughts.

"It's no use to run or make a fuss," he growled. "You can't get clear of me, and you'll soon be choked off if you start to do any croaking.

You might as well make up your mind at once, and hand out that picture."

"But I tell you I haven't got it," she persisted. "Oh, please, please, let me go. Have you no pity at all?"

"Give me that picture, or by heavens, I'll take it!" and he sprang forward, and seized her with his rough hands.

With one piercing cry, Constance struggled to free herself from his terrible clutches, while her brain reeled as she felt herself being borne to the ground. Just when the last hope of help had fled, a harsh growl and a roar fell upon her ears, while out of the night sprang a dark object, and hurled itself full upon the villain bending over her.

The last that Constance heard was Pritchen's cry of rage and fear as he struggled with his antagonist, and then she fell back unconscious upon the trail.

CHAPTER XXII

OLD PETE

When Old Pete left Kla.s.san, and went back to Siwash Creek with Keith's dogs, he expected to return in a short time with a supply of moose-meat. But the game was scarce, and he was forced to go far afield before meeting the proud monarchs of the forest. It led him into a new region, where he spent some time in prospecting a ledge of rocks, which showed indications of gold-bearing ore. By the time he again reached his own cabin Spring was upon him, and the snow was rapidly disappearing from the ground.

One day he spent at Siwash Creek, packing up his meagre household belongings, and that evening Alec McPherson came to visit him. This st.u.r.dy son of the heather looked with surprise upon the dismantled room, and turned inquiringly to his companion.

"What, mon, are ye awa' sae soon!" he exclaimed. "I thought ye would stay wi' us noo."

Pete did not seem to hear this remark, but continued stuffing several articles of wearing apparel into an old canvas sack. When the last pair of socks had been carefully stowed away, and the bag deposited in one corner of the room, he suddenly asked:

"What's the news from Kla.s.san, Alec?"