The Frontiersman Part 8

Tim listened, began to hum the tune softly to himself, and then reached for the violin.

"No, ye ain't got it yit, Tim; try agin," and Pete whistled it over once more.

After several efforts Tim finally rasped out the air of "Hark, the Angels Sing."

"That's her," exclaimed Pete with delight. "Now ye've got her, go ahead."

Once more Tim steered his way through the piece, and was about to begin the third time, when a peculiar noise sounded outside.

"Hark! what's that?" cried one of the men.

"Wind," replied another. "It's a bad night."

"That's no wund, I tell ye that," said Alec, and, suiting the action to the word, he arose, crossed the room, and threw open the door.

A whirling gust immediately swept into the building, and threatened to extinguish the three candles which were performing n.o.ble duty.

"h.e.l.lo! What----"

Alec's exclamation of wonder was interrupted by a snow-covered figure staggering full against him, and then falling heavily upon the floor.

Instantly every man sprang to his feet. It was enough to know that a stranger was in their midst, and needed a.s.sistance.

Scarf and cap were removed, the parka torn off, and hands, arms and legs freely rubbed. Presently Pete caught a full view of the prostrate man's face. Pie leaned down close for a better view.

"B'ys!" he shouted, straightening himself up; "it's 'im! it's 'im. My G.o.d, it's 'im!"

"And whose him?" replied Alec, thinking Pete had taken leave of his senses.

"Why, the parson at Kla.s.san; the man I've told yez so much about; the chap that saved my life in h.e.l.l's Canyon five years ago. Quick, let's lift 'im to yon bunk!"

CHAPTER VIII

A SURPRISE

When Keith opened his eyes, it was to see Old Pete, with an anxious expression upon his face, sitting by his side. He looked at him somewhat puzzled, but soon the recollection of his terrible experience came to his mind.

"Why, Pete," he exclaimed, "I didn't know you were here."

"Ye didn't, laddie?" replied the prospector, delighted to see his patient recover so quickly, "an' whar did ye think I'd be?"

"Out on the trail, of course, where you generally are."

"Ha, ha! Ye thought that, did ye, an' yer a parson! Waal, waal, I didn't think it."

"Didn't think what? I don't understand you."

"Ye don't?" and Pete stroked his long, white beard meditatively. "But, laddie, what would I be out on the trail fer, when the good Lord wanted me here to help a friend in need? Tell me that. Didn't He send you, laddie, to save me from h.e.l.l's Canyon five years ago? Ye talk about them angels in the Good Book a-comin' down to arth, but I guess the Lord uses us sometimes."

"You've been my good angel to-night, anyway," replied Keith feebly.

"A queer angel, laddie," and Pete glanced at his coa.r.s.e clothes, "though, I guess, He doesn't mind how a feller looks on the outside, so long's his heart's right. But, thar, I've talked too much already, an'

fergot my dooty."

Crossing the room, Pete soon produced a small can, which had been heating for some time upon the rickety stove.

"Here, drink this; it'll narve ye up a bit. It won't hurt ye, fer it's only some moose-meat soup."

"Thar now, ye'll feel better," he remarked, when Keith had finished the savory broth. "When ye've had a good sleep ye'll be all right. The rest of the b'ys have gone, so the cabin'll be quiet."

"Thank you," replied Keith; "you're kind. I _do_ feel sleepy, but there is just one thing I want to ask you about now."

"Fire away, then."

"Who is that man living down the trail?"

"What, Jim Blasco?" and Pete's face suddenly clouded.

"Yes."

"Oh, he's bughouse."

"What, crazy?"

"Yes, an' worse than crazy; he's devilish."

"He's terrible!" and Keith shivered.

"Did ye run agin 'im, laddie?"

"Yes."

"I thought mebbe ye had, an' he's death on parsons, too."

"Why, what does he have against us?"

"Laddie," and Pete laid his hand upon Keith's arm, "his heart's bad, an' he hates what's good. Ye see sich fellers everywhar. They talk mighty big about social rights, the welfare of the country, an' the improvement of mankind in gineral. But I take notice that sich chaps, as a rule, put stumblin' blocks in the way of progress. They shun a church as if it was a pest house, an' pa.s.s on to the saloon, or places worse'n that. They see a parson comin' down the street, an' they cross to t'other side, as if he had smallpox. Oh, I've seen 'em, I've lived among 'em, an' know their actions. Didn't I see several sich curs strike a fine mission settlement a few years ago? It was as quiet an'

decent a place as ye'd wish to see, but afore them wolves left, it was h.e.l.l, yes, laddie, it was h.e.l.l. An' ye should have heard the stories they told about the missionary; they were awful. They broke his heart, that's what they did.

"Now, Jim Blasco's one of them curs. I knowed 'im years ago, when he was fust married. He had as sweet a la.s.sie fer wife as ever breathed, an' he treated her like a dog, her an' the kids. The parson thar interfered, an' saved her from that devil, so that's why Jim hates parsons. When the town got after 'im, he cut an' run. He came north, an' last Fall struck this camp, half crazy. He raves an' talks about parsons most of the time. He says that they're a meddlin' lot. He cusses 'em like mad, an' I've seen 'im in sich a rage that I thought he'd have an athletic fit. I guess he'll be taken outside when the river opens, fer he ain't safe, nohow."

Keith's face flushed with anger as he listened to these words. He thought of the man who had visited him that morning at Kla.s.san and told him the base lie. He and the rest knew about Blasco, and yet they sent him to his very door over that long trail. He glanced at Pete, and noted his strong, n.o.ble face. Here was a man, he well knew, who would avenge the insult he had received. With his five hardy companions he would march to Kla.s.san, face Pritchen and his gang, though they were ten to one. He felt how just it would be, and for the welfare of his dusky flock that those scoffing miners should be brought to task.

There was a certain degree of pleasure in this idea as he lay on the comfortable cot, and listened to the fire roaring in the room, and the wind howling outside. Gradually he slipped away from the little cabin into the airy land of dreams.

He was again on the trail, fighting with the furious storm, and calling to the dogs. Then a mountain, sheer and steep, lifted itself across his path. He tried to scale it, but his hands slipped, and he fell back, bruised and bleeding. Through the storm he heard mocking voices, jeering and laughing at his futile efforts to advance. He saw Pritchen in the form of a huge serpent, leering forth at him from the darkness, while Perdue, Tim Murphy, and others he could not distinguish, were grinning in the background. A horrible feeling of helplessness possessed him, and the more he struggled the weaker he became. The darkness deepened, and the mountain was falling upon him. He tried to escape, but could not move. He gave a cry for help, and suddenly a light burst through the gloom. He looked, and behold a woman, beautiful in form and feature, moved swiftly toward him. He recognized the face--the face in the locket, but sweeter than ever. With a smile, she reached out her hand, lifted him out of the terrible pit, and placed him in the broad sunlight. The storm had pa.s.sed, the mountain was nowhere in sight, and the jeering voices had ceased. All around were green meadows, fragrant flowers and sparkling streams. In the midst of this splendid scene stood the woman, still smiling upon him.