Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 132, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 June 1913 — MOLLY McDONALD A TALE OF THE FRONTIER [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

MOLLY McDONALD A TALE OF THE FRONTIER

By RANDALL PARRISH

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n SYNOPSIS. Major McDonald, commanding an armypost near Fort Dodge, seeks a man to intercept his daughter, Molly, who Is headed for the post. An Indian outbreak Is threatened. Sergeant "Brick” Hamlin meets the stage in which Molly is traveling. They are attacked by Indians, and Hamlin and Molly escape In the darkness. Hamlin tells Molly he was discharged from the Confederate service in disgrace and at the close of the war enlisted In the regular army. He suspects one Captain LeFevre of being responsible for his disgrace. Troops appear and under escort of Lieut. Gaskins Molly starts to loin her father, Hamlin leaves to rejoin his regiment. He returns to Fort Dodge after a summer of fighting Indians, and finds Molly there. Shots are heard in the night. Hamlin rushes out, sees what he believes is the figure of Molly hiding in the darkness and falls over the body of Lieutenant Gaskins, who accuses Hamlin of shooting him. The sergeant is proven innocent He sees Molly in company with Mrs. Dupo lit, whom he recognises as a former sweetheart, who threw him over for LeFevre. Mrs. Dupont tells Hamlin LeFevre forced her to send him a lying note. Hamlin declares he has been looking for LeFevre to force him to clear his record. Later he overhears Dupont and a soldier hatching up a money-making plot. Molly seeks an interview with Hamlin. She says her father seems to be in the power of Mrs. Dupont, who claims to be a daughter of McDonald’s sister. Molly disappears ar.d Hamlin sets out to trace her. McDonald is ordered to Fort Ripley. Hagnlln discovers that the man who left on the-stage under the name of McDonald was not the major. He finds McDonald’s murdered body. Hamlin takes Wasson, a guide, and two troopers and goes In pursuit of the murderers, who had robbed McDonald of $30,000 paymaster's, money. He suspects Dupont. Conners. soldier accomplice of Dupont, is found murdered. Hamlin’s party is caught in a fierce blizzard while heading for the Clmmaron. One man dies from cold and another almost succumbs. Wasson is shot as they come in sight Of the Clmmaron. Heroic work Hamlin resuscitates Carroll, his remaining trooper. Hamlin discovers a log cabin hidden under a bluff, occupied by Hughes, a cow thief, who Is laying for LeFevre, who cheated him in a cattle ®• His description identifies LeFevre . P .Y. pont as one and f be same. Hughes shot Wasson mistaking him for one of LeFevre’s party.

CHAPTER XXVIII. Snowbound. The gleam in Hamlin’s eyes impelled, the other to go on, and explain fully. “Lord, I know how yer feel, stranged an’, I reckon, if yer was to plug me right yere it wouldn't more’n even matters up. But yer listen furst yer shoot. Thet Kiowa Klack Smoke was sent on ahead, an’ got yere afore the storm. He said them other wus 'bout four hours behind, an’ headin’ fer this yere cabin to make camp. They wa’n’t hurryin’ none, fer they didn’t suspect they wus bein’ tracked. Well, thet was my chance; what I’d been campin’ out yere months a-wait-in’ fer. I didn’t expect ter git nuthin’ back, y' understand; all I wanted was ter kill that damn skunjt, an’ squar accounts. It looked ter me then like I hed him on the hip. He didn’t know I was in the kintry; all I hed to do was lay out in the hills, an’ take a potshot at him afore he saw me.”

“And get the girl and the money." “As God is my witness, I never -thought ’bout thet. I jest wanted ter plug him. I know it sounds sorter cowardly, but that fellow’s a gun-fighter, an’ he bed two Injuns with him. Anyhow that wus my notion, an’ as soon as Black Smoke went lopin’ up the valley, I loaded up, an’ climbed them bluffs, to whar I hed a good look-out erlong the north trail. I laid out thar all night. The storm come up, an’ I mighty nigh froze, but snuggled down inter ther snow an’ stuck. When yer onc’t get a killin’ freak <fh, yer goin’ through hell an’ high water ter get yer man. Thet’s how I felt. Well, just ’long ’bout daylight an outfit showed’up. With my eyes half froze over, an’ ther storm blowin’ the snow in my face, I couldn’t see much—nothin' but outlines o’ bosses an’ men. But thar was four o’ ’em, an’ a big fellow ahead breakin’ trail. Course I thought it was Le Fevre; I wa’n’t lookin’ fer no one else, an’ soon as I dared, I let drive. He flopped over dead as a door nail, an’ then I popped away a couple o' times at the others. One fell down, an’ I thought I got him, but didn’t wait to make sure; just turned and hoofed it fer cover, knowin’ the storm would hide my trail. I’d got the men I went after, an’ just natch'ally didn’t give er whoop what became o’ the rest.. As I went down the bank I heard ’em shootin’, so I knowed some wus alive yet an’ it would be better fer me to crawl inter my hole an’ lie still."

Hamlin sat motionless, staring at the man, not quite able to comprehend his character. Killing was part of the western code, and he could appreciate Hughes’ eagerness for revenge, but the underlying cowardice In the man was almost bewildering. Finally he got up, swept the revolver

on the bench into his pocket, walked over, and picked up the gun. “Now, Hughes,” he said quietly, “I’ll talk, and you listen. In my judgment you are a miserable sneaking cur, and I am going to trust you just so far as I can watch you. I suppose I ought to shoot you where you are, and have done with it. You killed one of the best men who • ever lived, a friend of mine, Sam Wesson—” “Who?" “Sam Wasson, a government scout." Hughes dropped his face into his hands.

.“Good Lord! I knew him!” The Sergeant drew a deep breath, and into his face there came a Ibok almost of sympathy. “Then you begin to realize the sort of fool you are,” lie went on soberly. “They don’t make better men out here; his little finger was worth more than your whole body. But killing you won’t bring Sam back, and besides I reckon you’ve told me the straight story, an’ his shooting was an accident in a way. Then you’re more useful to me just now alive than you would be dead. My name is Hamlin, sergeant Seventh Cavalry, and I am here after that man Le Fevre. We trailed his outfit from Dodge until the storm struck us, and then came straight through traveling by compass. I did not know the man’s name was Le Fevre until you told me; up in Kansas he is known as Dupont.” “That’s it; that’s the name he took when he sold the cattle.” “The officer robbed and killed was Major McDonald, and it is his daughter they hold. The fellow Dupont quarreled with and shot was a deserter named Connors. We found the body. , Now where do you suppose Le Fevre is?”

Hughes stared into the fire, nervously pulling his beard. ’’Wall, I’d say in west yere somewhar along the Cimarron. ’Tain’t likely he had a compass, an’ the wind wus from the nor’east. Best they could do, the ponies would drift. The Injuns would keep the gineral direction, o’ course, storm ’er no storm, an’ Gene is some plainsman himself, but thet blizzard would sheer ’em off all the same. I reckon they’re under the banks ten mile, er mqre, up thar. An’ soon as there’s a change in weather, they'll ride fer Black Kettle’s camp. Thet’s my guess, mister.” Hamlin turned the situation over deliberately in his mind, satisfied that Hughes had reviewed the possibilities correctly. If Le Fevre’s party had got through at all, then that was the most likely spot for them to be hiding in. They would have drifted beyond doubt, farther than Hughes supposed, probably, as he had been sheltered from the real violence of the wind as it raged on the open plain. They might be fifteen, even twenty miles away, and so completely drifted in as to be undiscoverable except through accident. What course then was best to pursue? The storm was likely to continue violent for a day, perhaps two days longer. His horses were exhausted, and Carroll helpless. It might not even be safe to leave the latter alone. Yet if the frozen man could be left in the hut to take care of himself and the ponies, would there be any hope of success in an effort to proceed up the river on foot? He could make Hughes go—that wasn’t the difficulty—but probably they couldn’t cover five miles a day through the snowdrifts. And, even if they did succeed in getting through in time to intercept the fugitives, the others would possess every advantage—both position for defense, and horses on, which to escape. Hughes, lighting his pipe, confident now in his own mind that he was personally safe, seemed to sense the problem troubling the Sergeant.

"I reckon I know this kentry well ’nough,” he said lazily, “ter give yer a pointer er two. I’ve rounded up longhorns west o’ yere. Them fellers ain’t goin’ to strike out fer the Canadian till after the storm quits. By thet time yer ponies is rested up in better shape than theirs will be, and we kin strike 'cross to the sou’west. We’re bound either to hit ’em, or ride ’cross thar trail.’

"But the woman!’’ protested Hamlin, striding across the floor. "What may happen to her in the meanwhile? She is an Eastern girl unaccustomed to this life —a—a lady.” "Yer don’t need worry none 'bout thet' Es she’s the right kind she'll stan’ more’n a man when she has to. I reckon it won’t be none too pleasant

’long with Gene an’ them Cheyenne bucks, but if she’s pulled through so fair, thar aiuT nuthin’ special goin’ ter happen till they git to the Injun camp.” “You mean her fate .Will be decided in council?” *

“Sure; thet's Cheyenne law. Le Fevre kuows it, an’- ol’ Koleta would knife him in a minute if he got gay. He’s a devil all right—thet ol’ buck — but he's afraid of Black Kettle, an’ thar won’t be no harm done to the gal."

.The Sergeant walked over to the fire, and stared down into the red embers, striving to control himself. He realized the truth of all Hughes said, and yet had to fight fiercely his inclination to hasten to her rescue. The very thought of her alone in those ruthless hands was torture. There was no selfishness in the man’t heart, no hope of winning this girl for himself, yet he knew now that he loved her; that for him she was the one woman in all the world. Her face was in his memory; the very soughing of the wind seemed her voice calling him. But the real man in him —the plainsman the impetuosity of the lover. There must be no mistake made —ho rash, hopeless effort. Better delay, than ultimate failure, and Hughes’ plan was the more practical’ way. "You’re right, old man. We’ll wait,” he said sternly. "Now to get ready. Have you a corral?” The other made a gesture with his hand.

"Twenty rod b’low, under the bluff.” "We’ll drive the horses down, feed and water them. But first come with me; there is a half-frozen man up yonder.” They plowed through the snow together, choking and coughing in the thick swirl of flakes that beat against their faces. The three horses, powdered white, stood tails to the storm, with head to the bluff, while the drifts completely covered Carroll. He was sleeping, warm In the blankets, and the two men picked him up and stumbled along with their burden to the shelter of the cabin. Then Hughes faced the blizzard again, leading the horses to the corral, while Hamlin ministered to the semi-con-scious soldier, laying him out upon a pile of soft skins, and vigorously rubbing his limbs to restore circulation. The man was stupid from exposure, and in some pain, but exhibited no dangerous symptoms. When wrapped again in his blankets, he fell instantly asleep. Hughes returned,’ mantled with snow, and, as the door opened, the howl of the storm swept by. “No better outside?” “Lord, no! Worse, if anything. Wind more east, sweepin’ the snow up the valley. We’ll be plum shet up in an hour, I reckon. Hosses all right, though.” In the silence they could hear the fierce beating against the door, the shrieking of the storm-fiend encompassing them about.

CHAPTER XXIX. The Chase. Hamlin never forgot those twb days and nights of waiting, while the storm roared without and the clouds of drifting snow made any dream of advance impossible. Trained as he was to patience, the delay left marks in his face, and his nerves throbbed with pain. His mind was with her constantly, even in moments of uneasy

sleep, picturing her condition unsheltered from the storm and protected only by Le Fevre and his two Indian allies. If he could only reach them, only strike a blow for her release, it would be such a relief. The uncertainty weighed upon him, giving unrestricted play to the imagination, and, incidentally awakening a love for the girl so overwhelming as almost to frighten him. He had fought this feeling heretofore, deliberately, satisfied that ambition was hopeless. He would not attempt <n lower her to his level, nor give her the unhappiness of knowing that he dared misconstrue her frank friendliness into aught more tender. But these misfortunes had changed the entire outlook. Now he flung all pretense aside, eager to place his life on the altar to save her. Even a dim flame of hope began bias-

ing in his heart—hope that he might yet wring'from Le Fqyre a confession that would dear his name. He knew his man at last —knew him, and would track him gow with all the pitiless ingenuity of a savage. Onte he could stand erect, absolved of disgrace, a man again amdng men, he would ignore the uniform of the ranks, and Jgo to her with all the pride of his race. Ay! and down in his heart he knew that she would welcome his coming; that her eyes-would not look at the uniform, but down into the depths of his own.

He thought of it all as he paced the floor, or stared into the fire, while outside the wind raged and howled, piling the snow against the cabin front, and whirling in mad bursts up the valley. It would be death to face the fury of it on those open plains. There was nothing left him but to swear, and pace back and forth. Twice he and Hughes fought their way to the cor ral, found, the horses sheltered in a little cove, and brought them food and water. The struggle to accom plish this was sufficient proof of ths impossibility of going farther. Ex bausted and breathless they staggered back into the quietness of the cabin, feeling as though they had been beaten by clubs. Once, desperate to attempt something, Hamlin suggested searching for the bodies of Wasson and Wade, but Hughes shook his head, staring at the other as though hall believing him demented. The Ser geant strode to the door and looked out into the smother of snow; then came back without a word of protest

Carroll Improved steadily, complaining of pain where the frost had nipped exposed flesh, yet able to sit up, and eat heartily. There remained a numbness in his feet and legs, however, which prevented his standing alone, and both the others realized that he would have to be left behind when the storm abated. Hughes would go without doubt; on this point the Sergeant was determined. He did not altogether like or trust the man; he could not blot from memory the cowardly shot which killed Wasson, nor entirely rid himself of a fear that he, himself, had failed an old comrade, in not revenging his death; yet one thing was clear —the man’s hatred for Le Fevre made him valuable. Treacherous as he might be by nature, now his whole soul was bent on revenge. Moreover he knew the lay of* the land, the trail the fugitives would follow and to some extent Black Kettle’s camp. Little by little Hamlin drew from him every detail of Le Fevre’s life in the cattle country, becoming more and more convinced that both men were thieves, their herds largely stolen through connivance with Indians. Undoubtedly Le Fevre was the bigger rascal of the .two, and possessed greater Influence because of his marriage into the tribe. It was the second midnight when the wind died down. Hamlin, sleeping fitfully, seemed to sense the change; he rose, forced the door open, and peered out eagerly. There was lightness to the sky, and all about, the unbroken expanse of snow sparkled in cold crystals. Nothing broke the white desolation but the dark waters of the river still unfrozen, and the gaunt limbs of the cottonwoods, now standing naked and motionless. The silence was profound, seeming almost painful after the wild fury of the past days. He could hear the soft purr of the water, and Carroll’s heavy breathing. And It was cold, bitterly cold, the chill of it penetrating to his very ( bones. But for that he had no care—his mind had absorbed the one important fact; the way was open, they could go. He shook Hughes roughly into wakefulness, giving utterance to sharp, tense orders, as though he dealt with a man of his own troop. “Turn out, lively, now. Yes, the storm is over. It’s midnight, or a little after, and growing cold. Put on your heavy stuff, and bring up the two best horses. Come, now; you’ll step off quicker than that, Hughes, if you ride with me. I’ll have everything ready by the time you get here. Eat! Hell! We’ll eat in the saddle! What’s that, Carroll?”

“Ye ain’t a-goin’ to leave me yere alone, are ye, Sergeant?” “No; there’ll be two horses to keep you company. You’ve got a snap, man; plenty to eat, and a good fire — what more do you .want —a nurse? Hughes, what, in the name of Heaven, are you standing there for? Perhaps you would like to have me stir you up. I will if those horses are not here in ten minutes.” (TO BE CONTINUED.)

Her Face Was In His Memory.