Black Hills (S.D. and Wyo.) -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Frontier and pioneer life -- United States -- Fiction
Dave, unwilling to let the sensation go before he had drained it,
attempted to seize her by force. She slipped away and ran like a deer
to her wagon, gleaming white through the darkness. Dave sprang in
pursuit. At the instant Peter, who had followed unperceived, leaped
with a growl and fastened his teeth into Dave's cowhide boot. The
miner paused a moment undecided, and then, his natural good nature
coming to his rescue, he laughed. An answering laugh echoed from the
direction of the wagon.
"That's a pretty trick," he called, trying to disengage Peter's jaws.
Peter shook his head savagely and growled.
"You ought to learn to run," came the voice from the safety of the
wagon.
"Run!" laughed Dave. "Run with a dawg hangin' to you? Call him and
see if you can get him to leave go."
"Dog?" repeated the voice in puzzled tones.
"Yes, dog--this yere Peter. He seems to have took up with you-all.
He's got me by th' laig!"
Molly reappeared cautiously. Then she saw Peter, and advanced boldly.
The two young people looked at the eager and determined little dog, and
laughed with great good nature. Their crisis had passed, fortunately
without harm to either. Molly took Peter by the collar. Peter at once
let go.
"Good night," said Molly decidedly to Dave.
"Good night," said Dave, and turned back.
Molly walked on to the wagon, closely followed by Peter. As she
climbed in, she turned and caught sight of the little animal, eyeing
her wistfully.
"Want to come in?" said she.
Peter jumped to the whiffletree, then upon the seat, then into the
wagon. Molly followed.
"Peter," said she, "we won't do that any more. I don't believe it's a
good scheme. What do you think, dog?"
Peter wagged his stump of a tail, but as it was quite dark, this
expression of approval was lost. "I hope he won't say anything about
it," she went on reflectively. "But if he does"--she tossed her
head--"much good may it do any of them!" Then, after some time,
"Peter, let's go to sleep."
Peter whined with content.
XIX
THE BROAD WHITE ROAD
Copper Creek had begun as a half-way house, and had ended as a camp.
Thus the hotel was its oldest structure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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