Settling Day Part 35

All night long she struggled on, until at last she could go no further, and, falling from sheer exhaustion, she was soon in a deep sleep.

CHAPTER XXII

DETERMINED MEN

As Willie Dennis and his friends drew nearer to the house they saw their first conjecture was wrong and that something serious had taken place during their absence.

As they reined in their horses Constable Doonan said,--

'Let me go in first,' and, drawing his revolver, he walked cautiously into the house.

There he saw the black gin huddled up in the corner, a pool of blood round her and a bullet wound in her head.

'Sal!' he shouted. 'Sal, where are you?'

There was no answer, everything was ominously quiet.

Willie Dennis and Silas Dixon followed the constable, and were horrified at what they saw.

'There has been a desperate scene here,' said Doonan, 'and Sal is gone.

They may have taken her away. We must send a messenger at once for your father, my lad.'

'I'll go,' said Willie. 'I am a light weight and can ride fast. You and Silas must search for Sal.'

'That will be the best plan,' said Doonan.

'I'll start now,' said Willie. 'We can clear up here when we return.'

'We must leave everything as it is until I have made my report to Sergeant Machinson,' said the constable. 'He will have to make a move against Dalton's gang this time.'

Willie was soon on his way to Barragong, his blood boiling with rage at the outrage that had been committed at Wanabeen, and he wondered what had become of Sal.

In the meantime, Constable Doonan and Silas Dixon were scouring the country in search of the missing woman.

At the hut where Dalton and his men had been in hiding Doonan examined the place and found the members of the gang had been concealed there.

'They must have seen you and Willie ride away,' he said; 'and in that case they would have a long start of us.'

They camped out that night near a creek, and ate the food they had brought away with them from Wanabeen. They were used to roughing it and to lie on the bare ground with the saddle for a pillow.

They were astir early in the morning, and rode round in a wide circle, looking for tracks or any signs of Sal. At last Constable Doonan thought he saw an object lying on the ground which resembled a human being. It was too far distant for him to discover clearly, but he knew it was not an animal. He rode towards it, and, with a shout of joy, roused Sal, who was still asleep where she had fallen, and at the same time it recalled Silas Dixon.

When Sal saw who it was she could hardly believe in her good fortune. At first she thought it was Rodney Shaw who had overtaken her.

Doonan was off his horse and at her side very quickly, and knelt down to support her, for she was still very weak. He moistened her lips from his flask, and, when she had recovered somewhat, questioned her.

Sal gave him a brief account of all that had taken place, and when Doonan heard who was the instigator of the outrage he could hardly credit it.

'Rodney Shaw!' he exclaimed. 'A man in his position! He must be mad.

Rich man as he is, he shall suffer for it, Sal. He need not think he can do as he pleases, even in this lonely place. I pity him when he gets into Jim Dennis's clutches; he'll about settle him.'

He put Sal on his horse and walked by her side. They had several miles to go before reaching Wanabeen.

'Who was it shot the black gin?' asked Doonan.

'Abe Dalton. The other men were outside, he was alone in the house. I heard her cry out when he lashed her with his whip, then followed the shot, and she cried no more. Dalton killed her,' said Sal.

'He shall swing for it,' said the constable, savagely.

They proceeded for some distance in silence, and then Doonan said, in a tone of admiration,--

'You were clever to escape from Cudgegong, Sal.'

'I meant to get away somehow. Had I not escaped I would have killed myself rather than be in Shaw's power. He is a wicked man.'

'There are not many worse,' said Doonan. 'I never had much opinion of him, but I did not think he was such an out-and-out "rotter."'

Next morning the party arrived from Barragong, accompanied by Adye Dauntsey, Sergeant Machinson and half a dozen mounted police.

When Jim Dennis heard how Abe Dalton had acted, and that Sal had been taken to Cudgegong, his whole body trembled with rage and excitement.

Had he not been persuaded to act otherwise, he would at once have ridden to Cudgegong and, taking the law into his hands, have called Rodney Shaw to account.

Both Dr Tom and the police magistrate, however, restrained him.

'Leave it to me,' said Adye Dauntsey. 'I'll see they all meet with their deserts.'

'If Sergeant Machinson had done his duty this would not have happened, and poor Ned Glenn would have been alive.'

Dr Tom's dog Baalim caught sight of the dead woman and howled piteously, and the sound was so weird it started them all.

The police magistrate questioned Sal as to what had taken place, also Constable Doonan, Willie Dennis and Silas Dixon. He took their depositions and then called Sergeant Machinson on one side.

'We must act at once, sergeant. The sooner the better,' he said. 'Dalton and his gang ought to have been rooted out of Barker's Creek years ago.

I am afraid there has been some neglect of duty here. Take my advice and make up for it now by extra vigilance and alertness in securing these men. You understand me. I have no wish to do you an injustice or injury, but I must report this matter as I see it. Let your conduct now wipe out any defects of the past, and then all will be well. I shall state what I think in my report, and I hope I may be able to add something to the effect that any mistakes you have made in the past have been amply atoned for by your activity and bravery at Barker's Creek.'

The P.M. spoke kindly yet firmly, and Sergeant Machinson was well aware that much of his conduct in connection with Abe Dalton's gang would not bear investigation. He had sense enough to see that the course Mr Dauntsey advised him to take was the best. He knew he could trust the magistrate in every respect. He was surprised at his firmness on this occasion, because he had not 'put his foot down' before. Sergeant Machinson also knew that recent events could not be pa.s.sed over, and that in future it would be impossible for him to s.h.i.+eld Abe Dalton in any way. What he dreaded most was the thought of Dalton being taken alive, in which case he would be likely to 'let out' some curious business transactions in which the sergeant had been mixed up.

'It is very kind of you, Mr Dauntsey, and you may rely upon me to follow your advice to the best of my ability. I think you will have no cause to complain of me when all is over.'

'That's right, sergeant, the proper way to look at it. I am sure you and your men will do your duty. I am also sure of one other thing, that you will freely acknowledge you have done Jim Dennis a gross injustice. You can see now he has never had any dealings with Abe Dalton's gang, quite the reverse. The manly course for you to take is to tell Dennis you have been mistaken.'

Sergeant Machinson did not relish this, although he knew it was but just.

'I'll do it,' he said at last. 'He deserves it.'