Ranching For Sylvia Volume-554 by Harold Bindloss (chrome ebook reader .TXT) 📕

Situation.  Let's Talk Of Something Else."

They Turned Back Toward The Farm, But Edgar Found It Difficult To Start

A Fresh Topic.  All The Workings Of His Mind Centered Upon George, And

He Suspected That His Companion's Thoughts Had A Similar Tendency.  It

Was Getting Dark When They Rejoined The Rest Of The Party, And The Next

Morning Flett And Another Constable Rode In.  They Had Discovered

Nothing, But As They Were Ready To Take Up The Trail, Grant Left The

Task To Them And Turned Back With His Men.

Flora Long Remembered The Dreary Two Day's Ride, For Although She Had

Borne It With Courage, Edgar's News Had Caused Her A Painful Shock.

She Had, From The Beginning, Been Strongly Drawn To George, And When He

Had Been Carried Off The Knowledge That She Loved Him Had Been Brought

Home To Her.  Now, Looking Back With Rudely Opened Eyes, There Was

Little Comfort In Recognizing That He Had Made No Demands On Her

Affection.  Bitter As She Was, She Could Not Blame Him; She Had Been

Madly Foolish And Must Suffer For It.  She Called Her Pride To The

Rescue, But It Failed Her.  The Torturing Anxiety About The Man's Fate

Remained, And With It A Humiliating Regret, Which Was Not Altogether

Selfish, That It Was Sylvia Marston He Had Chosen.  Sylvia, Who Was

Clever, Had, Of Course, Tricked Him; But This Was No Consolation.  It

Was, However, Needful To Hide Her Feelings From Her Father And Assume

An Interest In His Remarks, Though, When He Spoke, It Was Always Of

Lansing And What Had Probably Befallen Him.

The Prairie Was Dazzlingly Bright, The Trail They Followed Was Thick

With Fine Black Dust, And Most Of The Day The Heat Was Trying; The Girl

Felt Utterly Jaded And Very Heavy Of Heart, But When It Appeared

Desirable She Forced Herself To Talk.  Her Father Must Never Suspect

Her Folly, Though She Wondered Uneasily How Far She Might Have Betrayed

It To West.  Reaching The Homestead At Length, She Resumed Her Duties,

And Anxiously Waited For News Of George.  Once That She Heard He Was

Safe, It Would, She Thought, Be Easier To Drive Him Out Of Her Mind

Forever.

As It Happened, George Had Received Only A Few Bruises In The Bluff,

And, After Realizing That There Was No Chance Of Escape For The

Present, He Lay Still In The Bottom Of The Wagon.  He Blamed Himself

For Riding So Readily Into The Trap, Since It Was Obvious That His

Assailants Had Known He Was Going To Visit Grant, And Had Stretched A

Strand Of Fence Wire Or Something Of The Kind Across The Trail.  They

Would Have Removed It Afterward And There Would Be Nothing Left To Show

What Had Befallen Him.  This, However Was A Matter Of Minor Consequence

And He Endeavored To Determine Which Way His Captors Were Driving.

Judging The Nature Of The Trail By The Jolting, He Decided That They

Meant To Leave The Wood Where He Entered It, Which Suggested That They

Were Going South, And This Was What He Had Anticipated.  Though He Was

Sore From The Effect Of His Fall And The Rough Handling Which Had

Followed It, He Did Not Think He Would Suffer Any Further Violence, So

Long As He Made No Attempt To Get Away.  The Men, No Doubt, Only

Intended To Prevent His Giving Evidence, By Keeping Him A Prisoner

Until After The Trial.

When Morning Came, The Wagon Was Still Moving At A Good Pace, Though

The Roughness Of The Motion Indicated That It Was Not Following A

Trail.  This Was All George Could Discover, Because One Of The Men Tied

His Arms And Legs Before Removing The Jacket Which Had Muffled His Head.

"I Guess You Can't Get Up, But It Wouldn't Be Wise To Try," The Fellow

Pointed Out Significantly.

George Took The Hint.  He Meant To Escape And Attend The Court, But He

Had No Wish To Ruin Any Chance Of His Doing So By Making A Premature

Flora Long Remembered The Dreary Two Day's Ride, For Although She Had

Borne It With Courage, Edgar's News Had Caused Her A Painful Shock.

She Had, From The Beginning, Been Strongly Drawn To George, And When He

Had Been Carried Off The Knowledge That She Loved Him Had Been Brought

Home To Her.  Now, Looking Back With Rudely Opened Eyes, There Was

Little Comfort In Recognizing That He Had Made No Demands On Her

Affection.  Bitter As She Was, She Could Not Blame Him; She Had Been

Madly Foolish And Must Suffer For It.  She Called Her Pride To The

Rescue, But It Failed Her.  The Torturing Anxiety About The Man's Fate

Remained, And With It A Humiliating Regret, Which Was Not Altogether

Selfish, That It Was Sylvia Marston He Had Chosen.  Sylvia, Who Was

Clever, Had, Of Course, Tricked Him; But This Was No Consolation.  It

Was, However, Needful To Hide Her Feelings From Her Father And Assume

An Interest In His Remarks, Though, When He Spoke, It Was Always Of

Lansing And What Had Probably Befallen Him.

The Prairie Was Dazzlingly Bright, The Trail They Followed Was Thick

With Fine Black Dust, And Most Of The Day The Heat Was Trying; The Girl

Felt Utterly Jaded And Very Heavy Of Heart, But When It Appeared

Desirable She Forced Herself To Talk.  Her Father Must Never Suspect

Her Folly, Though She Wondered Uneasily How Far She Might Have Betrayed

It To West.  Reaching The Homestead At Length, She Resumed Her Duties,

And Anxiously Waited For News Of George.  Once That She Heard He Was

Safe, It Would, She Thought, Be Easier To Drive Him Out Of Her Mind

Forever.

As It Happened, George Had Received Only A Few Bruises In The Bluff,

And, After Realizing That There Was No Chance Of Escape For The

Present, He Lay Still In The Bottom Of The Wagon.  He Blamed Himself

For Riding So Readily Into The Trap, Since It Was Obvious That His

Assailants Had Known He Was Going To Visit Grant, And Had Stretched A

Strand Of Fence Wire Or Something Of The Kind Across The Trail.  They

Would Have Removed It Afterward And There Would Be Nothing Left To Show

What Had Befallen Him.  This, However Was A Matter Of Minor Consequence

And He Endeavored To Determine Which Way His Captors Were Driving.

Judging The Nature Of The Trail By The Jolting, He Decided That They

Meant To Leave The Wood Where He Entered It, Which Suggested That They

Were Going South, And This Was What He Had Anticipated.  Though He Was

Sore From The Effect Of His Fall And The Rough Handling Which Had

Followed It, He Did Not Think He Would Suffer Any Further Violence, So

Long As He Made No Attempt To Get Away.  The Men, No Doubt, Only

Intended To Prevent His Giving Evidence, By Keeping Him A Prisoner

Until After The Trial.

When Morning Came, The Wagon Was Still Moving At A Good Pace, Though

The Roughness Of The Motion Indicated That It Was Not Following A

Trail.  This Was All George Could Discover, Because One Of The Men Tied

His Arms And Legs Before Removing The Jacket Which Had Muffled His Head.

"I Guess You Can't Get Up, But It Wouldn't Be Wise To Try," The Fellow

Pointed Out Significantly.

George Took The Hint.  He Meant To Escape And Attend The Court, But He

Had No Wish To Ruin Any Chance Of His Doing So By Making A Premature

Attempt.  His Captors Meant To Prevent His Seeing Which Way They Were

Going, But He Could Make Out That The Sky Was Brightest On The Left

Side Of The Wagon, Which Indicated That They Were Heading South.  They

Stopped At Noon In A Thick Bluff, From Which, When He Was Released And

Allowed To Get Down, He Could See Nothing Of The Prairie.  Only One Man

Remained To Watch Him; But As He Was Armed, And George Could Hear The

Others Not Far Away, He Decided That His Escape Must Be Postponed.

During The Afternoon, They Went On Again, George Occupying His Former

Position In The Bottom Of The Wagon, Where It Was Unpleasantly Hot; But

The Strongest Glare Was Now On His Right Side, Which Showed Him That

They Were Still Holding South.  Their Destination Was Evidently The

American Frontier.  In The Evening They Camped Near A Thicket Of Low

Scrub, And After Supper George Was Permitted To Wander About And

Stretch His Aching Limbs.  It Was Rolling Country, Broken By Low Rises,

And He Could Not See More Than A Mile Or Two.  There Was Nothing That

Served As A, Landmark, And As Soon As He Began To Stroll Away From The

Camp He Was Sharply Recalled.  In The End, He Sat Down To Smoke, And

Did Not Move Until He Was Told To Get Into The Wagon, Where A Blanket

Was Thrown Him.  So Far, He Had Been Permitted To See Only One Of His

Captors Near At Hand.

The Next Morning They Set Out Again.  George Thought That Fresh Horses

Had Been Obtained In The Night, Because They Drove At A Rapid Pace Most

Of The Day; And He Was Tired And Sore With The Jolting When They Camped

In Another Bluff At Sunset.  Two More Days Were Spent In Much The Same

Way; And Then Late At Night They Stopped At A Little Building Standing

In The Midst Of An Unbroken Plain, And George Was Released And Told To

Get Out.  One Of The Men Lighted A Lantern And Led Him Into An Empty

Stable, Built Of Thick Sods.  It Looked As If It Had Not Been Occupied

For A Long Time, But Part Of It Had Been Roughly Boarded Off, As If For

A Harness Room Or Store.

"You Have Got Your Blanket," Said His Companion.  "Put It Down Where

You Like.  There's Only One Door To This Place, And You Can't Get At It

Without Passing Me.  I Got A Sleep In The Wagon And Don't Want Any More

To-Night."

George Heard The Vehicle Jolt Away, And Sat Down To Smoke While The

Beat Of Hoofs Gradually Sank Into The Silence Of The Plain.  Then He

Wrapped His Blanket About Him And Went To Sleep On The Earthen Floor.