The Boy Land Boomer Part 27

"Quick! The Indian is coming back, and there is somebody with him!"

whispered d.i.c.k, and, taking hold of Nellie's hand, he led her away as fast as possible. Their course was from the rear of the cabin and across a broad but shallow stream.

"We'll go down the stream a bit before we land," said d.i.c.k, as they were on the point of stepping out of the water. "That may serve to throw Yellow Elk off the trail."

"Yes, yes, but do hurry!" answered the girl. "If Yellow Elk gets hold of me again I'll die!" The fear of getting into the clutches of the red man was so great she trembled from head to foot and would have gone down had not d.i.c.k's strong arm supported her.

It was wonderful how strong the youth felt, now that he had somebody besides himself to protect. It is said that nature fits the back to the burden, and it must have been so in this case. For himself, he might have feared to face Yellow Elk single-handed; defending Nellie he would, if called upon, have faced a dozen redskins.

On and on they went, as silently as possible. The trees overhung the brook from both sides, making it pitch dark beneath.

A distance of fifty yards had been covered, when they heard a loud exclamation of rage, followed by an Indian grunt.

"The white man and the Indian have met and both have discovered our flight," whispered d.i.c.k. "Come, we will leave the stream and take to yonder woods. Surely among those trees we can find some safe hiding place."

They turned in toward sh.o.r.e. As they were about to step to dry land Nellie's foot slipped on a round stone, making a loud splash. At the same time the girl gave a faint cry.

"My ankle--it's twisted!"

"Quick! let me carry you!" returned d.i.c.k, and, seeing the ankle must pain her not a little, he picked her up in his arms and dove in among the trees.

They were not a moment too soon, for the ready ears of Yellow Elk had heard the splash and the cry, and now he came bounding in the direction, with Louis Vorlange at his heels.

CHAPTER XXII.

d.i.c.k HITS HIS MARK.

"They are coming closer, d.i.c.k! What shall we do?"

It was Nellie Winthrop who asked the question. Boy and girl had entered the woods a distance of fifty feet from the bank of the brook, and both rested where several large rocks and some overhanging bushes afforded a convenient hiding place.

"Keep quiet, Nellie," he said in a murmur, with his lips close to her sh.e.l.l-like ears. And he gripped her arm to show her that he would stand by her no matter what danger might befall them.

It would have been foolhardy to say more, for Yellow Elk and Louis Vorlange were now within hearing distance, and the ears of the Indian chief were more than ever on the alert. The government spy had lighted a torch, which he swung low to the brook bank, while Yellow Elk made an examination of the ground.

"Here footmarks!" grunted the redskin, a minute later, and pointed them out. "They go this way--cannot be far off."

"Then after them," muttered Vorlange. "It was through your stupidity that the girl got away. Yellow Elk, I always put you down for being smarter than that."

"Yellow Elk smart enough!" growled the Indian chief.

"No, you're not. In some things you are like a block of wood," grumbled Vorlange. The escape of Nellie had put him out a good deal.

The manner of the government spy provoked the Indian. To be called a block of wood is, to the red man, a direct insult. Yellow Elk straightened up.

"White man big fool!" he hissed. "Yellow Elk not make chase for him,"

and he folded his arms.

"You won't go after the boy and the girl?" queried Vorlange.

"No--white man hunt for himself if he want to catch the little woman again."

And having thus delivered himself, Yellow Elk sat down by the brook and refused to budge another step.

The Indian's objections to continuing the search were more numerous than appeared on the surface. The so-called insult, bad as it was, was merely an excuse to hide other motives. Yellow Elk had known Vorlange for years and as the spy was naturally a mean fellow, the redskin hated him accordingly.

Another reason for refusing to go ahead was that Yellow Elk knew only too well that if d.i.c.k and Nellie were again taken, Vorlange would consider both his own captives, and Yellow Elk would be "counted out" of the entire proceedings. He could not go to the agency and claim any glory, for he had run away without permission, although he had told Vorlange he was away on a special mission connected with the soldiers.

And deeper than all was the thought that if he did not capture Nellie now, he might do so later on, when he had separated from the spy. Ever since he had first seen the beautiful girl he had been covetous of making her his squaw. Indian fas.h.i.+on, he felt he could compel Nellie to choose him, even if he had to whip her into making the choice.

"You won't go on with the search?" cried Vorlange, in a rage.

"No," was the short answer.

"I say you shall! See here, Yellow Elk, do you want to be shot?"

"Yellow Elk not afraid of Vorlange--Vorlange know dat. Yellow Elk go back to cabin to see if girl or boy leave anything behind."

Then he got up, waded across the brook again and disappeared among the trees surrounding the log cabin.

Louis Vorlange muttered a good many things in a very angry tone. Then, torch in hand, he started up the brook bank to follow the trail alone.

d.i.c.k and Nellie listened to the quarrel with bated breath. Both hoped that Vorlange would follow to the cabin. When he approached closer than ever, their hearts seemed to almost stop beating.

Feeling that a contest was at hand, d.i.c.k groped around in the darkness for some weapon. No stick was at hand, but at his feet lay a jagged stone weighing all of a pound. He took it up and held it in readiness.

Closer and closer came Vorlange, turning now to the right and now to the left, for following the trail among the rocks and brush was no easy matter.

"Might as well give yourselves up!" he called out. "I am bound to spot you sooner or later."

To this neither offered any reply, but d.i.c.k felt Nellie s.h.i.+ver. They could now see the flare of the torch plainly, for Vorlange was less than thirty feet away.

Presently the spy uttered a low cry of pleasure. He had found several footprints, where d.i.c.k had slipped from a rock into the dirt. Now he came straight for them, waving the torch above his head that it might throw its light to a greater distance.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "d.i.c.k had let fly the jagged stone, taking him directly in the forehead and keeling him over like a tenpin"]

"So there you are!" The man caught sight of Nellie's dress. "I told you I would catch you. It's not such an easy matter to get away from Louis Vorlange. The next time I lock you up--oh!"

A deep groan escaped the spy. d.i.c.k had let fly the jagged stone, taking him directly in the forehead and keeling him over like a tenpin. The blow left a deep cut from which the blood flowed in a stream, and Vorlange was completely stunned.

"Oh, d.i.c.k, have you--you--killed him?" burst from Nellie's lips, in horror.

"I guess not, Nellie; he's stunned, that's all. Come, let us run for it again--before that Indian changes his mind and comes back."

"You might take his pistol," suggested the quick-witted girl.