Lost in the Canon Part 39

As these men flung themselves from their saddles, Ulna, with compressed lips and flashing eyes bounded through the crowd.

At a glance he took in the situation, and then in a voice that rang clear and high as a bugle blast along the cliffs he called out:

"Sam Willett lives and he has the paper!"

"And these men shall not die, if me and my friends can help it, and we're inclined to think we can!" thundered Collins, as he drew Mr.

Willett and Hank back from the platform and severed the cords that bound their arms.

"And my boy still lives?" cried Mr. Willett, as he reached out his hands to Ulna.

"Yes, he lives; I left him this morning, and--"

Mr. Willett heard no more.

The resolute heart that could face death without a tremor, was all overcome by this joyous revelation, and he fell fainting to the ground.

"That's a Ute lie!" hissed Badger, to whose side Frank Shirley had come, pale and trembling.

While Hank and Si Brill were restoring Mr. Willett to consciousness, Collins called out:

"We'll see if it's a lie. Come, Ulna, my boy, tell us all about it, and if any man tries to stop you I'll give him a chance to bite the end off my revolver."

The coming of the young Ute, being unexpected, caused more of a sensation than the execution of the prisoners would have done.

The mob with bated breath gathered about Ulna, and though he was wearied with his run of fifty miles over a rough, trackless country, he told the main points of his thrilling story in a way that convinced everyone of the truth of his report.

For men to go down to death is an old story, but when those mourned for as dead appear in the flesh, even those not superst.i.tious are inclined to wonder and to feel that a miracle has been performed.

"Do you believe that young Indian's story?" asked Shirley after he had led Badger away from the crowd.

"I am afraid it's true," said Badger.

"Then we're beaten!" groaned Shirley.

"Not yet."

"What can be done, Badger?"

"If young Sam is alive he will try to reach here."

"Yes; there can be no doubt of that."

"Then he should be met on the way."

"By whom?"

"By us."

"If so, we should start at once."

"Yes, Mr. Shirley, there is not a minute to spare. Let us get our horses and start as soon as it's dark," said Badger, with unusual determination.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.-HOW IT FARED WITH SAM AND HIS FRIENDS.

When darkness came, the night of Ulna's arrival at Hurley's Gulch, it found the camp excited about the existence of Tom Edwards' receipt-which it was claimed young Sam had-and, as a consequence the miners were divided as to the guilt or innocence of Mr. Willett and Hank Tims.

Three-fifths of the men believed that the prisoners were fairly tried, justly condemned and that they should have been hanged.

Indeed, these fellows felt that Collins, Si Brill and the men they had brought with them to prevent the execution were no better than a pack of outlaws.

All the men at Hurley's Gulch carried pistols, as a matter of course, but now they armed themselves with rifles, for the purpose of destroying Collins and his friends, if they did not at once surrender the prisoners.

From comparative peace the camp was plunged into a state of war, with rival factions ready to slay each other, in order that they might take or save the lives of Mr. Willett and Hank Tims.

Leaving Hurley's Gulch to its enraged rival factions, let us turn to the west and see how it fared with Sam Willett and his friends.

In the wild excitement of battle, soldiers, who hitherto may have secretly doubted their own courage, have been known to perform deeds of the most heroic valor, of which they retained not the slightest memory when the conflict was over.

This was Sam's case.

His manner of freeing Ulna was bold to the verge of madness; but the instant he saw the young Ute vanishing at the head of the rift, he forgot all about the manner by which his release had been effected.

The anger of the chief, Blanco, was so great when he saw what Sam had done that he would have slain that daring youth without doubt had he not feared that in so doing he might lose his own life.

"What you do them for?" roared the chief, as he pointed after the fugitive.

"He was my friend," was all Sam could say, for by this time he had only the haziest conception of what he had actually done.

"He was the foe of my tribe."

"You did not know him."

"You do me bad," said the enraged chief. "You take Ute's place. My people no stand what you do. I like be your friend. You friend of Ute's.

No my friend."

The chief snapped the fingers of both hands and turned to talk with his remaining braves.

"Mistah Sam! Mistah Sam!" whispered Ike.

"What is it, Ike?"

"W'at you tink now?"

"About what?"