Sympathy for the man prevented his listeners taking offence at the words which, from any one else, would have brought serious consequences. The parson said soothingly:

"If you were not so wrought up, captain, you would not be so unreasonable; suppose Wade and I had gone to you with the statement that the man who, according to your own words, had saved your life but a short time before in the mountains, was a villain, who contemplated robbing you of your child; what would you have done?"

"Thanked you and been on my guard."

"You would have done nothing of the kind; you would have cursed us and told us to mind our own business."

"No matter what I would have done, it was your duty to tell me, regardless of the consequences to yourselves. I might have resented it, but my eyes would have been opened and this blow saved me."

"Nothing could have opened your eyes, for you were blind," said the parson, who felt that though the man was intensely agitated, he ought to hear some plain truths; "even had you suspected there was ground for our fears, you would have gone to Lieutenant Russell and demanded an explanation. He would have denied it, and you would have believed him with the result that he would have been put on his guard and would have deceived you the more completely."

"Likewise, as aforesaid," added Ruggles, "the villain would have come to us and made us give our grounds for our charges. What ridic'lous fools we would have been, when all we could answer was that we thought he looked as if he meant to run away with your darter."

"There may be some justice in what you say," replied the captain more composedly; "It was I who was blind, but I can't understand it. Never until I read that piece of paper, did I suspect the truth."

"Howsumever, the parson and me haven't been idle; we often talked it over and fixed on a line that we thought would work better than going to you. We showed the leftenant that we was onto his game; I give him a scowl now and then, as it fell convenient, that said 'Beware!' We, that is the parson and me, made up our minds to watch close, and, at the first sign that was dead sure, we'd fall onto him like a couple of mountains."

"And why didn't you?"

"He fooled us as he did you. We was talkin' over matters the very minute you busted into the door and was satisfied that he had larned he was playin' with fire and had concluded to drop it. We was as big fools as you."

CHAPTER XVI

NOW

It was the parson who now broke in.

"Why do we sit here, lamenting that which cannot be helped? Do you mean to give up, captain, and let her go? Will you settle down to toil in the diggings, giving her no further thought, while this pretty-faced lieutenant is chuckling over the clever manner by which he fooled you as well as us--"

"No!" fairly shouted the roused parent; "I will follow them to the ends of the earth! They shall not find a foot of ground that will protect them! She has never seen me angry, but she shall now!"

"We are with you," coolly responded Brush, "but only on one condition."

"What's that?"

"That this account is to be settled with _him_ alone; you musn't speak so much as a cross word to Nellie; she will shed many a bitter tear of sorrow; she will drain the cup to its dregs; _he_, the cause of it all, is to be brought to judgment. When do you wish to take up the pursuit?"

"Now!"

"And we are with you."

There was something wonderful in the way Parson Brush kept control of himself. Externally he was as calm as when standing in front of the adamantine blackboard, giving instruction to Nellie Dawson, while down deep in his heart, raged a tempest such as rouses into life the darkest pa.s.sions that can nerve a man to wrong doing. Believing it necessary to stir the father to action, he had done it by well chosen words, that could not have been more effective.

For weeks and months the shadow had brooded over him. Sometimes it seemed to lift and dissolve into unsubstantiality, only to come back more baleful than before. And the moment when he had about persuaded himself that it was but a figment of the imagination, it had sprung into being and crushed him. But he was now stern, remorseless, resolute, implacable.

It was much the same with Wade Ruggles. He strove desperately to gain the remarkable control of his feelings, displayed by his comrade, and partly succeeded. But there was a restless fidgeting which caused him to move aimlessly about the room and showed itself now and then in a slight tremulousness of the voice and hands, but his eyes wore that steely glitter, which those at his side had noticed when the rumble and grumble told that the battle was on.

Captain Dawson went from one extreme to the other. Crazed, tumultuous in his fury, and at first like a baffled tiger, he moderated his voice and manner until his companions wondered at his self-poise.

"They have started for Sacramento and are now well advanced over the trail," he remarked without any evidence of excitement.

"When do you imagine they set out?" asked Brush.

"Probably about the middle of the afternoon; possibly earlier."

"Then," said Ruggles, "they have a good six hours' start. They haven't lost any time and must be fifteen or twenty miles away."

"The trail is easy traveling for twice that distance, as I recollect it," observed the captain; "after that it grows rougher and they will not be able to go so fast."

"This must have been arranged several days ago, though it is only guesswork on our part. Of course she has taken considerable clothing with her."

"I did not look into her room," said the captain; "there's no use; it is enough to know they made their preparations and started, accompanied by that dog Timon."

No time was wasted. They knew they would encounter cold weather, for the autumn had fairly set in, and some portions of the trail carried them to an elevation where it was chilly in midsummer. Each took a thick blanket. The captain donned his military coat, with the empty sleeve pinned to the breast, caught up his saddle and trappings, his Winchester and revolver, and buckled the cartridge belt around his waist. Then he was ready. Neither of the others took coat or vest. The blanket flung around the shoulders was all that was likely to be needed, in addition to the heavy flannel shirt worn summer and winter.

Thus equipped, the three stood outside the cabin, with the moon high in the sky, a gentle wind sweeping up the canon and loose ma.s.ses of clouds drifting in front of the orb of night. Here and there a light twinkled from a shanty and the hum of voices sounded faintly in their ears. Further off, at the extreme end of the settlement, stood the Heavenly Bower, with the yellow rays streaming from its two windows.

They could picture the group gathered there, as it had gathered night after night during the past years, full of jest and story, and with never a thought of the tragedy that had already begun.

"Shall we tell them?" asked Ruggles.

"No," answered Brush; "some of them might wish to go with us."

"And it might be well to take them," suggested Captain Dawson.

"We are enough," was the grim response of the parson.

Like so many phantoms, the men moved toward the further end of the settlement. Opposite the last shanty a man a.s.sumed form in the gloom.

He had just emerged from his dwelling and stopped abruptly at sight of the trio of shadows gliding past.

"What's up, pards?" he called.

"Nothing," was the curt answer of the captain, who was leading and did not change his pace.

"You needn't be so huffy about it," growled the other, standing still and puffing his pipe until they vanished.

"That was Vose Adams," remarked the captain over his shoulder; "he'll tell the rest what he saw and it will be known to everybody in the morning."

The little party was carefully descending the side of the canon, with now and then a partial stumble, until they reached the bottom of the broad valley where the gra.s.s grew luxuriantly nearly the whole year.

It was nutritious and succulent and afforded the best of pasturage for the few horses and mules belonging to the miners.

Captain Dawson and Lieutenant Russell had ridden up the trail, each mounted on a fine steed, which had brought them from Sacramento. When the saddles and bridles were removed, the animals were turned loose in the rich pasturage, which extended for miles over the bottom of the canon. There, too, grazed the pony of Nellie Dawson, the horses of Ruggles and Bidwell and the three mules owned by Landlord Ortigies and Vose Adams. The latter were left to themselves, except when needed for the periodical journeys to Sacramento. The little drove const.i.tuted all the possessions of New Constantinople in that line.

Consequently, if any more of the miners wished to join in the pursuit, they would have to do so on foot or on mule back,--a fact which was likely to deter most of them.

In the early days of the settlement, before the descent of that terrible blizzard, fully a dozen mules and horses were grazing in the gorge, subject to the call of their owners, who, however, did not expect to need them, unless they decided to remove to some other site.

But one morning every hoof had vanished and was never seen again. The prints of moccasins, here and there in the soft earth, left no doubt of the cause of their disappearance. Perhaps this event had something to do with the permanence of New Constantinople, since the means of a comfortable departure with goods, chattels, tools and mining implements went off with the animals.