Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1891-04-23

was fresh groove in the mud, where a
boat had been drawn up, and among the
prints about it he saw the marks made
by small bare foot. Zeb turned and
ran back to his boat, sprang in and rowed
across through the gathering gloom to-
ward the camp on the point. The lights
were twinkling in the shanties when he
reached it, and he could hear snatches of
ribald song and coarse laughter and loud
| talking in the house boats where the men
were quartered. He ran his sliff in be-
low the work, tied it to a cypress ''knee"
and stealthily went up among the cab
ms. He inspected each one, now peering
in through the doors of saloons or listen
ing at open windows, holding his ear
to cracks in the Notwithstanding and
whistling softlynt times. He had reached
| almost the last shanty before his search
was rewarded. Then, as he whistled
faint note that sounded for all the world
like the piping of rice bird, lie heard
the voice of Cordia, suppressed to almost
a whisper, call in a frightened tone,
'Zeb! Zeb" He put his mouth close up
to the boards and asked:
"Ez tibet yo, Cordia?' And the voice in
side replied:
sob, yes; help me, Zeb. They u'ns toted
me off fruln hum an hev locked me in
yere."
Zeb thought a moment, then he
Strengthened up and without a word
walked to the front door of the saloon,
for such it was. 1t did not seem like
Zeb Posey who strobe into the room
among the rough men gathered. there, so
high did he hold his head and such new
vigor was there in his frame. He had
lost the shuffiing gait he once had and
his hands were nervously clutched in the
visible expression of his determination.
Walking straight up to the brutal and
bloated ruffian behind the bar he said
Eve cum fer Cordia."
"Who in HI is Cordial" was the
harsh response.
"She's my sister," replied Zeb firmly,
"an' yo might ez well Civ her to me, for
I'm cum to git her. Yo can't steal a
mans kin without he fights fer EN- no
morn We ken tex cub wildcat outer its
nest an not spect to hev to ft fer it if
the old 'un's thar"
''You get out, said the bully behind
the bar as he drew big six shooter and
held it threateningly in his hand. you
must be crazy to think we've got yer
sister locked up here"
I'm no fool and We ken shoot if We
want to-" said Zeb, never quailing be-
fore the revolver; "but tell We I'm goin'
to hev tibet gal or I'm goin' outer here
dead Then cacfinor an apnaalinoy olapoa
over the crowd he asked, ''Ain't there no
I'm here 'el help me get innocent CURL
/ way frum yere:?"
An ironical laugh was all the response
he received. The dozen rufianly men
gathered in the squalid room were too
much hardened by nature, or stood too
much in fear of the bully at the bar, to
interest themselves in this appeal There
had been much drinking, and most
of them only leered at Zeb in the
silly manner of men whose heavy brains
are besotted with drink. Zeb scanned
their rough, hardened faces, searching
for one single expression that might bid
him hope for help, and turned away
from them with scornful sheer of con-
tempt upon his white face and his drawn
lips. Then look of reckless determine
ton stole over the fisherman's face, and
with a muttered ejaculation he sprang
around the corner of the rude bar and
toward the door of the back room But
the ruffian behind the counter reached it
first, and with cruel blow from the
butt of the heavy revolver he sent Zeb
to the floor, limp and insensible.