The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1904-02-03
traffic was killed by that common.

traffic was killed by that common
sense promoter of temperance
berness and chastity-the post ex-
change. Along that bluff line, from
the storehouse toward the hospital,
invisible, doubtless, from either build
ing or from the bluff itself, but
thrown in sharp relief against that
rectangular inlet of starry sky, two
black figures, crouching and bearing
some long, fiat object between them,
swift and noiseless were speeding
toward the hospital. The next in
slant they were lost in the black
background of that building. Then,
as suddenly and moment later, one
of them reappeared, just for a mo-
ment, against the brightly lighted
| window-the southernmost window
on the eastward side-the window of
the room that had been Beverly
Field's-the window of the room now
given over to Eagle Wing, the Sioux
the captive for whose safe keeping
a special sentry within the building.
and this strangely silent Number Six
without, were jointly responsible.
Then that silhouetted figure was
blotted from her sight in general
darkness, for the lights within as
suddenly went out.
And at that very moment sound
smote upon the ear, unaccountable
at that hour and at that side of the
garrison-hoofbeats swiftly coming
down in the hollow from the east
ward bluff-hoofbeats and low, ex-
cited voices. Fosters little house was
southernmost of the settlement. The
ground was open between it and the
heights, and despite the low, cautious
tones, Esther heard the foremost
riders muttered angering words.
Dam fool! Crazy! Heap Crazy!
Too much hurry. Ought t. let him call
teral Sioux.
And then in an instant it dawned
upon the girl that here was new
crime, new bloodshed, perhaps, and
plot to free a villainous captive.
Her first thought was to scream for
| aid, but what aid could she summon?
Not a man was within hail except
these, the merciless haters of her
race and name. To scream would be
to invite their ready knives to her
| heart-to the heart of any woman
who might rush to her succor. The
cry died in her throat, and, trem-
bling with dread and excitement, she
chung to the door post and crouched
and listened, for .stifled mutterings
could be heard, a curse or two in
vigorous English a stamping of i'm
patient ponies, warning in wo-
mans tone. Then, thank God! Up
at the storehouse corner light came
dancing into view. In honest soldier
tones doomed out the query whats
the matter, Six?" and then, followed
by a scurry of hoofs, mad flashing
of quirts and scramble and rush of
frightened steeds, a cursing of flu
rious tongues, her own brave young
voice rang out on the night. This
way, sergeant! Help-Ouick!"
Black forms of mounts and riders
sped desperately away, and then with
all the wiry, sinewy strength of
her 1.-THE and slender form, Esther
hurled herself upon another slender
figure, speeding after these, afoot.
Desperately she chung to it in spite
of savage blows and strainings. And
SO they found her, as forth they came
"a rush of shrieking, startled, can
dle-bearing women-of bewildered
and unconsciously blasphemous men
of the guard-her arms locked firmly
about girl in semi-savage garb. The
| villain of the drama had been whisked
away, leaving the woman who sought
to save him to the mercy of the foe.
ITO Be Continued