An Oregon Girl: A Tale of American Life in the New WestRice, Alfred Ernest
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An Oregon Girl: A Tale of American Life in the New West
Rice, Alfred Ernest
Oregon -- Fiction; Western stories; Women pioneers -- Fiction
Those terrified eyes he had seen, suddenly set him in a ferment.
"Probably--by God!" he muttered under his breath.
"Phwat be yees lookin' at? Sure, I can say nothin'," exclaimed Smith.
"I'll just step in the house and 'phone for a sheriff's posse to
search the timber, and prevent his escape from the hill. You wait
near-by for me."
Sam had spoken loud as a ruse to deceive Rutley, for he felt morally
certain that the cause of that frightened look in Virginia's eyes was
the presence of the man he was after.
"Sure, I will that, and kape me eyes on the ravine, too."
As Sam started for the front door, Smith stalked about, with a stick
in his hand, warily glancing from side to side and ready to fight on
the instant.
Rutley prepared for a struggle, for he believed that Sam would ramble
through the house. "Virginia must be concealed, but where?" He could
not carry her to the attic, for Sam might meet him with her in his
arms. "Ah, the closet!"
Thrusting the revolver in his pocket, he swiftly opened the door. Then
he placed a chair within for her comfort, and without further
hesitation gathered her in his arms and carried her to the closet.
After seating her on the chair, and while drawing some of Mrs. Harris'
skirts about her, he said to her in a low voice: "After I dispose of
that meddlesome fool, I'll carry you to the loft and doubtless we'll
find room in one of the large trunks stored there to conceal you; and
I warn you, on peril of your life, to sit still!"
He then cautiously closed the door.
His next step was to remove the revolver from his pocket and carefully
examine it. "It's a desperate bluff, but I'll try it."
There were two doors to the room other than the door of the closet;
one opened into the hall, the other into a large bathroom and through
to the bedroom beyond. He took the keys from his pocket and unlocked
both doors, which he had fastened on meeting Virginia, and then placed
the large cane arm chair, which he piled with cushions, to the right
side of the table and a few feet from the hall door.
His movements were swift, silent and deliberate. Down behind the back
of the chair he crouched and watched both doors with tigerish
steadiness. He had barely taken his position when footsteps were heard
in the hall. They passed the door, then returned, halted, and the next
instant low taps sounded on the door.
Simultaneously the closet door back of Rutley cautiously opened and
Virginia stepped forth gagless and free. She had been more frightened
than hurt or helpless, and had not discovered it until imprisoned in
the closet. Left to herself, she immediately struggled to free her
limbs from bondage. One foot was unexpectedly loosed and then the
other. Her hands quickly followed, and the twisted shawl fell to the
floor.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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