"Here, Bill; here is a shutter loose!" cried one.

Wild Bill sprang toward it, and as he did so the shutter flew open; he saw a white face surrounded by auburn hair; he heard one gasping cry--"sister"--and he fell back in terror, crying out:

"The ghost! the ghost!"

But some one fired a shot, the light went out, and all was dark where the light had been.

Bill recovered from his shock almost as soon as he felt it, and joined with the shout:

"Down with the doors! Down with the doors."

The crash that followed, told that the frail obstacles had given way, and Bill cried out:

"In and clean the crib out. Ghost or no ghost, give us light, and clean the crib out!"

Cheer after cheer told that the house was entered, and a minute later, torches made from splintered doors and shutters, blazed in a dozen hands as the ruffians ran to and for in search of plunder.

"The ghost. Find the ghost, or the woman!" yelled Bill.

CHAPTER X.

A MYSTERY.

The excited and ruffianly crowd dashed to and fro, overturning the furniture, tearing aside curtains, and looking for plunder, but unable to find anything of value, beyond the furniture, or to see a single living person under the roof. Not a dollar in money, not a piece of plate rewarded their search.

"Fire the crib! fire the crib!" came from fifty throats, and almost as soon as spoken, the act was consummated.

Wild Bill, angered to find no one on whom to vent his wrath, or shake his thirst for revenge, looked on the blaze as it rose with gloomy satisfaction, muttering that he only wished the witch of a woman was burning in it.

The crowd increased as the flames rose higher and tighter, but no one tried to check them, and soon it was but a smoldering ma.s.s of ruins where the pretty cottage had stood.

But the late occupant, unharmed, was a mile away, and having just paid off and discharged her faithful servants, was on the point of mounting to ride off with the Texan and Mr. Pond, when the last shout of the dispersing crowd reached her ears.

She smiled when she heard it, and said:

"I can afford all the harm they have done, I led but a lonesome life there. I feel that the change I am about to make will be for the better."

The three, with two loaded horses besides those they rode, now moved quietly but swiftly out of the suburbs of the town, where the horses had been stabled, and with the Texan leading the way, steered to the westward, having no compa.s.s but the stars.

For an hour the three rode on, and then, pointing to some timber ahead, the Texan said:

"Addie, there is where you will find him whom you seek. Tell him I have not altered any of my plans, and that I shall lay in camp to-morrow at Lone-tree Spring, an hour's gallop south of the Twenty-mile Creek. The next morning I will follow the trail we spoke of. And now, Addie, good-by, and don't forgot me."

"You know I will not, I hope yet to see you happy, and to be happier than I am now. We shall meet again, perhaps, Mr. Pond, but good-night for now."

And while the Texan and Mr. Pond remained still on their horses, she rode on, leading one pack-horse, toward a growth of trees seen dimly ahead.

The Texan remained where he was until he heard her give the signal and receive an answer, and then turning to Pond, he said:

"She is safe; we may as well move on. We have a long ride to where I intend to camp."

"All right," said the other, "This night's work seems almost like a dream. I can hardly realize that Wild Bill would lead such a disgraceful crowd of ruffians, and do such a dastardly act as to burn a woman out of house and home."

"Rum takes all the _man_ out of those who use it," said the Texan. "I use it myself sometimes, I know, but it is when I feel as if I was all giving out, and couldn't go through what was before me. And I feel abashed when I think I need such a stimulant to fire up my flagging nature."

Pond made no reply, but rode on thoughtfully at the rapid pace which the other led, the pack animal keeping close in the rear. At last he asked:

"Who did Miss Neidic expect to meet where we left her?"

"A brave man who loves her dearly, but who has been driven in his desperation by cruel injustice to do some work which keeps him outside of towns and settlements for the present. His love is returned by her, and henceforth she will share his dangers and his hardships."

"None can tell but those who test it, how deeply, how entirely, and how lasting a true woman loves," said Pond, with a sigh.

"And none but a woman wronged can tell how bitterly she can hate!" said the other, as he dashed his spurs into his horse and galloped on.

Miles were swiftly pa.s.sed over, and the gray of dawn was just beginning to soften night's darkness in the east, when the Texan exclaimed:

"Here we are; now for a rest of one day, at least."

And as he spoke he drew up his horse by the side of a small pool of water, which trickled out from under the roots of a single large tree.

For an acre or so around it there were bushes growing as high as the horses, but when light came, no other growth but that of short buffalo gra.s.s and p.r.i.c.kly cactus could be seen.

The Texan unsaddled his horse, and unloaded the pack animal before Pond could get his saddle ungirthed. Then the Texan sprang to his a.s.sistance, finished stripping the horse, and with a long lariat picketed it out in the best gra.s.s. His own horses he turned loose, saying they never would stray from camp.

Then, taking his rifle, he stepped out from camp, saying he was going after meat.

In fifteen or twenty minutes, Pond heard the crack of his rifle and in less than half an hour the young man was back, with the fat saddle of a young antelope on his shoulder.

"Here is meat enough for to-day and to-morrow," he said. "Next day we will be on buffalo ground, and we'll have some hump ribs to roast."

Gathering a few dry, light sticks, he soon had a hot and almost smokeless fire ablaze. On the coals of this he set his coffee-pot, broiled some meat, and while Mr. Pond looked on in surprise, he quickly had a nice breakfast of antelope steak, coffee, and a few hard biscuit which were in the pack.

While Pond took hold and ate heartily, praising the food by his actions much as his words, the Texan ate lightly, yet all that he wanted--not touching the bread, but using meat entirely.

"There'll be the more left for you," said he, when Pond noticed that he ate no bread. "I never care for anything but meat on the plains. It gives bone and muscle, and that is what we need here. The more simple the food, the better the health. We use ourselves to salt, but we would be just as well off without it. Eat hearty, and take a good nap. We have nothing to do to-day. The party whose trail will be our guide to the "Hills" will not start till late. We shall not move until to-morrow morning, and then I'll show you the coals of the camp-fire which they'll light to-night. There will be no need for any shelter but this tree overhead. Everything looks clean and dry sky-ward--there's no better camping ground than this for a couple on the plains. The water is good, feed plenty, and we don't require much fire this time of year."

Pond, tired and sleepy, was only too glad to take the Texan's advice, so he spread his blanket, lay down, and soon was in the land of dreams.

Meantime the Texan, with a small field-gla.s.s in his hand, mounted the tree, and from a perch on its uppermost limbs, scanned the prairie in all directions, but most often in the direction from which they had come.

Nothing was in sight but wild game, scattered here and there, and he soon came down and prepared to take a rest on his own account.

"They'll not pa.s.s till afternoon," he muttered, "and I may as well rest a few hours while I can in peace and safety."

He took a long and curious look at the form of his sleeping traveling companion, and a strange smile flitted over his face, as he muttered:

"A mystery, but I can solve it."