The Fatal Cord Part 3

STORY ONE, CHAPTER FIVE.

TWO OLD CHUMS.

"Bound for Kaliforny, air ye?"

"Yes; that's the country for me."

"If what you say's true, it oughter be the country for more'n you. Air ye sure 'beout it?"

"Seems believing. Look at this."

The man who gave utterance to the old saw pulled from his pocket a small packet done up in fawn skin, and untying the string, exhibited some glistening nodules of a yellowish colour.

"True; seein' air believin', they do say, an' feelin' air second nater.

Let's lay my claw on't."

The packet was pa.s.sed into his hands.

"Hang me eft don't look like gold! an' it feel like it, too; an', durn me, ef't don't taste like it."

This after he had put one of the nodules in his mouth, and rolled it over his tongue, as if testing it.

"It _is_ gold," was the positive rejoinder.

"An' ye tell me, d.i.c.k Tarleton, they find these sort o' nuts in Kaliforny lyin' right on the surface o' the groun'?"

"Almost the same. They dig them out of the bed of a river, and then wash the mud off them. The thing's been just found out by a man named Captain Sutter while they were clearing out a mill-race. The fellow I got these from's come direct from there with his bullet-pouch chock full of them, besides several pounds weight of dust in a canvas bag. He was in New Orleans to get it changed into dollars; an' he did it, too, five thousand in all, picked up, he says, in a spell of three months'

washing. He's going right back."

"Burn me ef I oughten't to go too. Huntin' ain't much o' a bizness hyar any longer. Bar's gettin' pretty scace, an' deer's most run off altogither from the settlements springin' up too thick. Besides, these young planters an' the fellers from the towns air allers 'beout wi' thar blasted horns, scarin' everything out of creashun. Thar's a ruck o'

them kine clost by hyar 'beout a hour ago, full tare arter a bar. Burn 'em! What hev they got to do wi' bar-huntin'--a parcel o' brats o'

boys? Jess as much as this chile kin do' to keep his ole karkidge from starvin'; and thar's the gurl, too, growin' up, an' nothin' provided for her but this ole shanty, an' the patch o' gurden groun'. I'd pull up sticks and go wi' ye, only for one thing."

"What is that, Rook?"

"Wal, wal; I don't mind tellin' you, d.i.c.k. The gurl's good-lookin', an'

thar's a rich young feller 'pears a bit sweet on her. I don't much like him myself; but he _air_ rich, or's boun' to be when the old 'un goes under. He's an only son, an' they've got one o' the slickest cotton plantations in all Arkansaw."

"Ah, well; if you think he means marrying your girl, you had, perhaps, better stay where you are."

"Marryin' her! Burn him, I'll take care o' thet. Poor as I am myself, an' as you know, d.i.c.k Tarleton, no better than I mout be, she hain't no knowin' beout that. My little gurl, Lena, air as innocent as a young doe. I'll take precious care n.o.body don't come the humbugging game over her. In coorse you're gwine to take your young 'un along wi' ye?"

"Of course."

"Wal, he'll be better out o' hyar, any how. Thar a wild lot, the young fellars 'beout these parts; an' I don't think over friendly wi' him.

'Tall events, _he_ don't sort wi' _them_. They twit him 'beout his Injun blood, and that sort o' thing."

"d.a.m.n them! he's got _my_ blood."

"True enuf, true enuf; an' ef they knew thet, it wudn't be like to git much favour for him. You dud well in makin' him gra.s.s under the name o'

the mother. Ef the folks 'beout hyar only knowed he war the son o' d.i.c.k Tarleton--d.i.c.k Tarleton thet--"

"Hush! shut up, Jerry Rook! Enough that you know it. I hope you never said a word of that to the boy. I trusted you."

"An' ye trusted to a true man. Wi' all my back-slidin's I've been, true to you, d.i.c.k. The boy knows nothin' 'beout what you're been, nor me neyther. He air as innocent as my own gurl Lena, tho' of a diffrent natur altogither. Tho' he be three parts white, he's got the Injun in him as much as ef he'd been the colour o' copper. Le's see; it air now nigh on six year gone since ye seed him. Wal, he's wonderful growed up an' good-lookin'; and thar arn't anythin' 'beout these parts kud tackle on to him fur strenth. He kin back a squirrel wi' the pea-rifle, tho'

thet won't count for much now ef ye're gwine to set him gatherin' these hyar donicks an' dusts. Arter all, thet may be the best for him.

Huntin' ain't no account any more. I'd gi'e it up myself ef I ked get some eezier way o' keepin' my wants serplied."

The man to whom these remarks were made did not give much attention to the last of them.

A proud fire was in his eye as he listened to the eulogy pa.s.sed upon the youth, who was his son by Marie Robideau, the half-breed daughter of a famous fur-trader. Perhaps, too, he was thinking of the youth's mother, long since dead.

"He will soon be here?" he inquired, rousing himself from his reverie.

"Oughter," was the reply. "Only went wi' my gurl to the store to git some fixin's. It air in Helena, 'beout three mile by the old trace.

Oughter be back by this. I war expectin' 'em afore you kim in."

"What's that?" asked Tarleton, as a huge bear-hound sprang from his rec.u.mbent position on the hearth, and ran growling to the door.

"Them, I reck'n. But it moutn't be; thar's plenty o' other people abeout. Make safe, d.i.c.k, an' go in thar', into the gurl's room, till I rickaneitre."

The guest was about to act upon the hint, when a light footstep outside, followed by the friendly whimpering of the hound, and the soft voice of her on whom the dog was fawning, caused him to keep his place.

In another second, like a bright sunbeam, a young girl--Lena Rook-- stepped softly over the threshold.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER SIX.

A CRY OF DISTRESS.

Lena Rook knew the father of Pierre, and curtsied as she came in.

It was six years since she had seen him; but she still remembered the man who had stayed some days at her father's house, and left behind him a boy, who had afterwards proved such a pleasant playmate.

"Whar's Pierre?" asked her father. "Didn't he k.u.m back from Helena along wi' ye?"

The guest simultaneously asked a similar question, for both had noticed a slight shadow on the countenance of the girl.

"He did," answered she, "as far as the clearing in the cane-brake, just over the creek."

"He stopped thar. What for?"

"There was a party of hunters--boys."

"Who mout they be?"