Dakota Indians -- Wars, 1876 -- Fiction; Little Bighorn, Battle of the, Mont., 1876 -- Fiction; Western stories
The heavy, strained breathing of the motionless crowd was his only
answer, and a half smile of bitter contempt curled Hampton's lips, as
he swept over them a last defiant glance.
"Not quite so humorous as it seemed to be at first, I reckon," he
commented, dryly. "Slavin," and he prodded the red giant once more
with his foot, "I'm going out; if you make any attempt to leave this
room within the next five minutes I 'll kill you in your tracks, as I
would a mad dog. You stacked cards twice to-night, but the last time I
beat you fairly at your own game."
He held aside the heavy curtains with his left hand and backed slowly
out facing them, the deadly revolver shining ominously in the other.
Not a man moved: Slavin glowered at him from the floor, an impotent
curse upon his lips. Then the red drapery fell.
While the shadows of the long night still hung over the valley, Naida,
tossing restlessly upon her strange bed within the humble yellow house
at the fork of the trails, was aroused to wakefulness by the pounding
of a horse's hoofs on the plank bridge spanning the creek. She drew
aside the curtain and looked out, shading her eyes to see clearer
through the poor glass. All she perceived was a somewhat deeper smudge
when the rider swept rapidly past, horse and man a shapeless shadow.
Three hours later she awoke again, this time to the full glare of day,
and to the remembrance that she was now facing a new life. As she lay
there thinking, her eyes troubled but tearless, far away on the
sun-kissed uplands Hampton was spurring forward his horse, already
beginning to exhibit signs of weariness. Bent slightly over the saddle
pommel, his eyes upon these snow-capped peaks still showing blurred and
distant, he rode steadily on, the only moving object amid all that
wide, desolate landscape.
_PART II_
WHAT OCCURRED IN GLENCAID
CHAPTER I
THE ARRIVAL OF MISS SPENCER
There was a considerable period when events of importance in Glencaid's
history were viewed against the background of the opening of its first
school. This was not entirely on account of the deep interest
manifested in the cause of higher education by the residents, but owing
rather to the personality of the pioneer school-teacher, and the deep,
abiding impress which she made upon the community.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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