by Carol Norton
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE ENEMIES.
IT was a risky thing to attempt. To venture outside would be to exposethemselves in the bright moonlight to the bullets of the feudalists,but the two plucky lads never hesitated. The body lay not a dozen stepsfrom the cabin and it would not do to let his fellows approach thatclose to the little fort. Either they must save him themselves, if hewas not already dead, or leave him to die alone in the night.
"We must be quick about it," Charley declared. "As soon as I unlatchthe door, we must run out, grab him by the shoulders, and drag himin--he's too heavy to lift."
In this bold move fortune seemed to favor the lads. They got theirheavy burden to the door before a shot was fired and, then, the bulletswhistled harmlessly above their heads.
"We were lucky that time," Charley panted as he barred the door again."Now keep a sharp lookout. I'll have to light that lamp again."
"This fellow is not so very badly hurt," he announced, as soon as hehad examined his new patient. "The bullet has gone right through thefleshy part of his shoulder. He will come out of it all right if thewound is kept clean." In a few minutes he had washed and dressed thewound as he had the other man's, then, putting out the light once more,he rejoined his companion at the loophole. "Anything stirring?" heinquired.
"No, I don't even hear their voices now. Perhaps they will not botherus again to-night," Walter replied, hopefully.
"I am not worrying about them as much as I am this wind," said his chumgloomily. "We are safe enough here so long as the grub and water holdsout, but, God knows how it is faring with Chris and the captain."
The gale was now howling and whistling around the little cabin with aforce to justify Charley's gloomy apprehension. The boys had to speakloudly to make themselves heard above its uproar. They soon abandonedall attempts at conversation and waited wearily and silently foranother assault from the feudalists and for the coming of day.
Either the ruffians had at last become over-powered by the liquor theyhad drank or else they had decided to wait the coming of day, for theydid not again show themselves in the clearing. Day, however, came atlast, after what seemed to the exhausted lads an age of waiting.
As soon as it became light enough to see, Charley removed the bandagesfrom their stricken host and redressed his wound more carefully. "Hispulse is getting stronger and there is some color in his face," heremarked to his chum. "I believe, I could bring him to, but I guessit's best to let him lie unconscious as long as he can. He will sufferenough when he does regain consciousness."
As soon as he finished with Turner, Charley turned to his otherpatient who was beginning to move uneasily and show signs of returningconsciousness. While he was yet bathing his wound the man opened hiseyes.
"Gosh! how my shoulder hurts," he growled. "Be mighty careful how youtouch it, young fellow, or I'll skin you alive."
Charley set aside the basin of water and rising to his feet looked downon the fellow with a face full of scorn.
"You great, big, drunken, cowardly murderer," he exclaimed. "It's apity that bullet didn't kill you. You are not fit to live on God'sgreen earth. You're shot when trying, with a crowd of your fellows, tokill a lone, inoffensive man. Your friends don't think enough of you tocome back and get your carcass. We bring you in and care for you andinstead of thanks, your first words are a growl and a threat. You are acowardly, disgraceful cur,--that's what you are."
Astonished rage filled the man's face. "No man ever said words likethat to Jim Wright and lived," he gasped. He attempted to rise but wastoo weak to gain his feet, and sank back with a groan.
"Oh, I guess you won't do any killing for a little while," sneeredCharley, whose anger was at white heat. "I've no doubt people havebeen afraid to tell you the truth before, but you are going to hearit for once in your life. I've no doubt with your strength anddisposition you've bullied everything until they are afraid to doanything but flatter you, but, now you are going to take a dose of yourown medicine." Then, seating himself just out of reach of the man'spowerful arms, he proceeded to tell him what he thought of him in wordsthat stung with contempt and scorn. Then, as his anger subsided, herepeated the story Turner had told him, contrasting Turner's quiet,patient, peaceful heroism with the other's blood-thirstiness andviolence, with all the power of the earnestness he felt.
At first the man kept interrupting him with curses and abuse, but ashe went calmly on ignoring the interruptions the fellow lay quiet, hisface turned to the wall.
Once Charley stopped, thinking he might have fainted he lay so still,but he spoke up gruffly.
"Did I kill him?"
"No, but it's not your fault that you didn't," the lad replied, curtly,and went on with his arraignment. "I don't care a hang what you andyour cowardly fellows think," he concluded, "all decent people wouldsay that that poor fellow lying there is a brave hero while you are themean-spirited, cowardly one. And, now, if you'll lie quiet and keepyour mouth shut, I'll dress that wound. I hate to pollute my hands bytouching you, but it's got to be done."
The man lay quiet while the lad washed and bound up his wound. Charleycould see that his features were working convulsively, but whether fromrage or pain he could not determine.
As soon as his task was completed, Charley relieved his chum at theloophole and Walter set about making coffee and cooking some breakfast.They were both sadly in need of food and felt much better after theyhad eaten. As soon as they had finished, Charley made his chum lie downto take a nap, promising to call him, and lie down himself in a coupleof hours.
While Walter was asleep Turner came out of the deep swoon which hadfollowed his wound. He was weak and in terrible pain but in fullpossession of his senses. It was evident that he was greatly bewilderedat the sight of his enemy lying helpless on the floor, and Charleyexplained the situation to him in a few words.
"I sho' am glad I didn't kill him," said the sick man, thankfully. "Ijes' shot at his laigs, the gun must have gone off when I fell. I amsho' sorry I hurt you so bad, Jim, I didn't aim for to do hit."
But Wright kept his face turned to the wall and answered not a word.
As the morning advanced Charley was much puzzled by the constant soundof hammering coming from the woods near the clearing. It was evidenttheir enemies were preparing another surprise but he could not guess atits nature.
All the morning long the hammering continued, then shortly before noonthere emerged from the woods an object which caused him at first, tostare in bewildered surprise, and, then, as it drew nearer the cabin tosend him to shaking Walter, whom he had let sleep on.
"Wake up! Wake up!" he cried. "We have got to fight for our lives.Those fellows have built a heavy breastwork on the front of a wagon andare shoving it ahead of them up to the cabin."
"Young fellows! help me up and help me to that loophole," grufflycommanded the wounded man on the floor. "Don't hesitate," he cried asthe lad was about to refuse the surprising command, "them fellows havegot a couple of sticks of dynamite in that cart an' if they get nearenough to throw it thar won't be enough left of this cabin to make agood toothpick. We was aiming to use it last night if we couldn't getTurner no other way."
Between them the two startled lads got the big fellow on his feet andsupported him to the loophole where he leaned against the logs, hisface twitching with the pain of his effort.
It was just in time, for the wagon with its burden of death was scarcea hundred feet away when he shouted: "Stop where yer are, boys. Tharain't no call to throw any of that stuff."
"Is that you, Cap?" called one of the men. "Why, we 'lowed yer wasdead."
"An' I might have been for all of yu fellows, leaving me to die on theground like a poisoned dog."
He paused while a chorus of excuses came from the men behind thebreastwork.
"Well, I ain't dead, but it ain't no thanks to yu fellows," he went onslowly and painfully. "Now, yu fellows jes' roll that wagon back wharhit came from an' go home and behave yerselves. Yu fellows know mean' know I'l
l do what I say. Hit's jes' come to me, an' hit's come ina powerful rough way, that I've been powerful mean, pisen an' onery.My eyes am sho' opened at last, an' I'm powerful ashamed of how I'vebeen carryin' on. But hit's all over now. From now on Bill Turner ismy friend, an' the man that lifts a finger again' him lifts it again'me, an' me an' my close kin will make this place too hot to hold him.That's all I've got to say. Now, go home."
Murmurs of astonishment arose from the men behind the wagon as theyslowly but obediently backed the wagon towards the woods. Over the faceof the wounded man on the bed stole a look of joy unspeakable.
The bewildered but delighted boys helped Wright back to his place onthe floor.
"I want to shake hands with you, Mr. Wright," said Charley, earnestly."I am afraid I talked pretty rough to you."
"I needed hit," said the other as he took the proffered hand. "Hit's apity, young fellow, that thar ain't more like yu down in this neck ofthar woods."