An Oregon Girl Part 38

Seeing his opportunity, Jack desperately clutched the child with his left hand. Swinging Dorothy in front of him, and before her father, he pointed the revolver at her head, and in that position addressed him in a sort of screeching yell, "Stop!"

Thorpe stood horror-stricken. His heart leaped to his throat. "My G.o.d!

madman, what will you do?" he hoa.r.s.ely exclaimed, and motioned as if to rescue the child.

With a tighter clutch, and a more maddening menace, Jack again addressed him, "Stop, not a step nearer!" And to emphasize his purpose, he placed the muzzle of the revolver close to her head.

Observing the desperate peril in which Dorothy was placed, and with a courage born of horror and despair, Virginia stole to Jack's back, and with a wild frantic scream of "Save her!" seized his pistol hand between both her own, and in the struggle that immediately ensued, and in which all her strength was exerted, the weapon fell to the floor.

And then Sam tore open the broken window, swung himself through to the floor, and instantly grappled with Jack.

Virginia's attack forced Jack to release Dorothy, who was immediately gathered in her father's arms.

"Safe, my blessed child, safe!" he fervently exclaimed.

And then poor Virginia, courageous, strong-minded, kind-hearted, pa.s.sionate Virginia, having sustained the frightful nervous strain till the last moment, swayed, and sank to the floor in a swoon.

Meanwhile Constance stood beside the cabin door, staring at the men in a dazed and vacant manner. She had heard Virginia, and repeated mechanically, "Save Dorothy!" and now repeated after Mr. Thorpe, in tones as though a very dear voice had kindled a spark calling back loving recollections. She drew her hand across her brow, as though trying to clear away some web that obscured her memory, and stared at her husband like one suddenly awakened from a dream. A moment after and she whispered with awe in her voice, "John! John!"

Almost immediately Rutley had returned to the room without the child, but with Jack's money, the door near him was being battered. He at once concluded that the game was up, and his own safety necessitated an immediate escape. How? He must decide at once.

How many surrounded the cabin? Ha! If he only knew, and then the hatch occurred to him.

He knew the big logs upon which the cabin was built raised it some ten or twelve inches above water. There lay his way--out--quick. He lifted the cover, and silently sank beneath the floor between the logs.

Then he let the trap door fall back in position above him, just as the cabin door gave way and the detective entered, followed by Smith, who handled an axe.

It was then that Constance seemed to recover suddenly her reason, for she rushed toward her husband with outstretched arms, exclaiming in a voice fraught with rapturous thanksgiving, "John! John and Dorothy!"

An inexpressible joy shone in her eyes.

But her advance was met with a cold, stern frown and a backward wave of the hand. Not a word escaped him.

For a moment she stood irresolute; then she pa.s.sed the tips of her fingers across her brow again and again--"Oh, this horrible dream that I cant' shake off!" Again she seemed to recover her reason and her voice, soft and sobbing, said, "John, you don't believe me shameless and debased, do you? You can't believe it, for it is false, false, I say! and the boat won't clear from it! Let me help"--and her voice hardening, she went on--"Give me a paddle. We must escape. Save Dorothy!" and she threw out her hands to him appealingly.

A swift compa.s.sionate look swept across Thorpe's face. The first doubt of his wife's guilt had seized upon his brain, and he said chokingly, "My G.o.d, is it possible my wife is innocent?"

He had half turned around to her, but on remembering the ring, his face again set stern, then without another word he waved her back with a single motion of his hand.

But the sound of his voice had once more stirred up a filament of intelligence and she sobbed, "John! John!" She got no further. She saw him turn away and, placing her hand to her side, trembled, and with a moan on her lips, sank down beside Virginia.

And at that moment the detective appeared in the part.i.tion doorway and was followed closely by Smith, who, upon seeing the prostrate woman, senseless on the floor, at once concluded a foul crime had been committed, and exclaimed, with horror and rage on his face:

"Oh, the murtherin' blackguard!"

In the struggle Jack broke from Sam and stooped to pick up the revolver. But Sam, coached in Texas, had him covered with his own revolver in a twinkling, and with the characteristic side movement of his head, said with a grin of satisfaction, "If you touch it, I'll send a bullet through your brain!"

CHAPTER XVII.

After Jack Sh.o.r.e had been securely handcuffed, and after a hasty but bootless search for his partner in crime, Detective Simms hustled him into the launch, and desiring to get him behind the prison bars without delay, ordered the engineer to run the boat across the river at once so as to avoid any attempt at release by possible confederates.

A hasty examination of both Constance and Virginia convinced Mr.

Thorpe that they were not seriously hurt, and were rendered senseless only by a shock of great mental excitement.

To remain until after their recovery would only add torture to a painful situation; he therefore made them as comfortable as the limited means at hand would allow, and then taking Dorothy with him, boarded the launch, leaving Sam and Smith to watch over and care for his wife and sister until the arrival of a physician, whom he intended to dispatch to their aid as quickly as possible. Dorothy objected to leaving her mother, but was sternly overruled and awed into submission by her father.

Ten minutes after her rescue the boat was speeding toward Madison Street landing with John Thorpe and Dorothy, Jack Sh.o.r.e and Detective Simms, taciturn and grave.

As the boat drew away, both Sam and Smith silently contemplated the two insensible women on the floor. For some moments neither spoke a word, profoundly absorbed in a grave contemplation of the questionable necessity of the two women undertaking so dangerous a mission.

To Sam it appeared plain they had very recently learned of Dorothy's place of captivity; but why they had not imparted the information to some of their male friends, why they had kept her place of concealment secret, and why, also, they had undertaken her release just prior to the arrival of her father on the scene, was a mystery. It only resulted in a suspicion that they had somehow heard of John Thorpe's premeditated attempt at rescue, and were alarmed lest Dorothy should fall into his hands.

Smith's mind was not of an a.n.a.lytical nature; in fact, he did not think their presence was attributable to anything other than a mother's natural heart-breaking longing to recover her darling as swiftly as possible, and in the enterprise Virginia had joined her.

And as he thought of the indifference and cruel desertion of John Thorpe with her child, for whom she had made such a sacrifice, a solemn, serious look of sadness gathered on his face and deepened into contempt and anger. And the compa.s.sion in his heart welled up and at length broke from between his lips, in unconscious mutterings. "Sure, he tuk her darlint from her an' left her lyin' there, too, so he do, on the hard flure, wid her sinses gone out from her hid complately.

The heartless man!"

"The trouble between them is serious," Sam replied, as he knelt down beside Virginia and commenced to chafe her hands.

"Sure, don't I know it, so I do!" rejoined Smith, as he followed Sam's example and set to chafing Constance's hands between his own. "An'

he's broke her heart entirely, so he ave," he went on, "an' her hands do be numb wid no life in thim at all."

Then he was silent for a time and worked industriously to bring back into her hands the warmth that had fled.

Suddenly he asked Sam in an eager, anxious whisper, "Do yees belave she'd do wrong?"

"No!" Sam promptly replied.

"Naither do I. Indade she's as swate an' innocint a lady as wan ave hivin's angels. Sure, she cudn't do wrong at all, at all."

"Not at all!" responded Sam gravely.

"An' the mister shud ave better sinse than to trate her so unkind, don't yees think so now?"

"Thorpe is a d.a.m.ned fool, I guess!" Sam answered gloomily.

"Indade, I do belave it, too, so I do!"

Again there was silence. Again it was broken by Smith, who said in a low, confidential tone: "I'll tell yees, I belave it do be some attracious divil ave come betwain thim."

"You do!" Sam snapped at him, as though he interpreted Smith's allusion a direct reference to Virginia.

"Indade I do, so I do!"

"Why do you think so?" Sam asked, a tinge of annoyance at Smith's persistence still appearing in the manner of asking.

"Isn't she an angel? An' it's only the divil cud sipporate an angel from her husband. Sure, man, dear, what more do yees want to prove it?"