The Boy Land Boomer Part 26

As the Indian chief shoved his face into view he caught sight of d.i.c.k and uttered a slight huh! Up came the boy's weapon, but on the instant Yellow Elk disappeared.

For the moment d.i.c.k was too paralyzed to move. Like a flash he realized that Yellow Elk had the better of him, for the Indian was behind shelter, while he stood in a clearing.

"White boy stand still!" came in guttural tones from the redskin. "Don't dare move, or Indian shoot."

"What do you want of me?" asked d.i.c.k.

"White boy all alone?"

"What business is that of yours?"

At this Yellow Elk muttered a grunt. Then from out of the bushes d.i.c.k saw thrust the shining barrel of a horse pistol.

"White boy throw down little shooter," commanded the redskin. By little shooter he meant d.i.c.k's pistol.

There was no help for it, and the youth did as requested.

"White boy got udder shooter?"

"No."

"Now say if white boy alone. Speak if want to save life."

"Yes, I am alone, Yellow Elk."

"Ha! you know Yellow Elk?" cried the Indian in surprise.

"I've heard of you."

"What white boy do here?"

"I am lost."

"Lost. Huh!" and a look of disgust crossed the Indian chiefs face. The idea of a human being losing his way was something he could not understand. During his life he had covered thousands of miles of prairie and forest lands and had never yet lost himself. Such is the training and instinct of a true American aboriginal.

While speaking Yellow Elk had leaped through the brush, and now he came up and peered into d.i.c.k's face. Instantly his eyes filled with anger.

"I know white boy; he friend to p.a.w.nee Brown. Indian see him at big moving."--meaning the camp of the boomers. He had not noticed d.i.c.k in the fight at the cave.

"Yes, p.a.w.nee Brown is my friend," answered d.i.c.k. "Where is he now?" he added, to throw the Indian off the series of questions he was propounding.

"p.a.w.nee Brown dead!" muttered Yellow Elk simply. "White boy come with me."

"With you!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed d.i.c.k, a chill creeping up to his heart.

"Yes; come now. No wait, or Yellow Elk shoot!" and again the horse pistol was raised.

The tone was so ugly that d.i.c.k felt it would be useless to hang back.

Yellow Elk pointed with his arm in the direction he wished the lad to proceed, and away they went, the Indian but a pace behind, and keeping his pistol where it would be ready for use whenever required.

d.i.c.k never forgot that walk in the starlight, taken at about the same time that p.a.w.nee Brown was floundering in the quicksand. A mile or more was covered, over prairies, through a wood and across several small streams, for the fertile Indian Territory abounds in water courses.

Yellow Elk stuck to him like a shadow, and the pistol was continually in evidence. Yellow Elk had likewise appropriated d.i.c.k's weapon, the one cast to the ground.

Presently a clearing was gained where stood a cabin built of logs. All about the place was deserted. Going up to the cabin the Indian opened the door and lit a match.

"White boy go inside and we have talk," said Yellow Elk, when there came a noise from the woods beyond. At once Yellow Elk pushed d.i.c.k into the cabin and bolted the door from the outside.

"White boy keep quiet or Yellow Elk come in and kill!" he hissed, in a low but distinct tone. "No make a sound till Indian open door again."

The Indian's words were so terrifying that d.i.c.k stood still for several minutes exactly where he had been thrust. All was pitch dark around him.

He listened, but not a sound reached his ears.

"Where in the world is this adventure going to end?" was the thought which coursed through his mind.

He wondered what had alarmed Yellow Elk. Was it the approach of some white friend? Fervidly he prayed it might be.

A low, half-suppressed cough from somewhere close at hand caught his ear and made him start.

"Who is there?" he asked aloud.

"Oh, d.i.c.k Arbuckle, is that you?" came in an eager voice.

"Nellie Winthrop! Is it possible? Where are you?"

"In the next room."

"Can't you come out?"

"No; I'm locked in."

"Gosh, you don't say!" Forgetting his former fear, d.i.c.k hurried across the cabin floor to the door of the inner apartment. Feeling around in the dark he found a hasp and staple and pulled out the plug which fastened the barrier. In another instant boy and girl plumped into each other's arms in the darkness. Even in that moment of peril d.i.c.k could not resist giving Nellie a little squeeze, which she did not resent.

"But how came you here?" asked the youth quickly.

"I was captured by a government spy, who wants to get from me some secret of the boomers. He is a bad-looking man, and I was awfully afraid of him."

"Yellow Elk brought me here. We are prisoners together. Some noise in the woods just took Yellow Elk off."

"The man has been gone less than five minutes. Perhaps they are in league with each other," suggested Nellie.

"Perhaps, or they may be enemies. But never mind how that stands. We must get away, Nellie, and that before Yellow Elk comes back."

"Heaven knows, I am willing!" gasped the trembling girl. "I want no more of Yellow Elk."

"The window is nailed up," went on d.i.c.k, after an examination. "And the Indian fastened that door from the outside. I wonder if I can't get out by way of the roof?" He lit a match and gazed upward. "There is an opening. Here goes!"

In another instant he was climbing up beside the fireplace, to where a scuttle led to the sloping roof. He was soon without, and Nellie heard him drop to the ground. Then the outer door was thrown back.