Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Benton County, Or.) 1900-1909, 1904-03-01
CHAPTER III.

Ann Rutledg0 heard through the
open window Peggy's muffled cry and
struggle, and ran to the door. By star,
light it was barely possible to see a
shadow fleeing from the hand-mill; but
Antywine La Chance, in pursuit of it.
passed across the bar of light. 1.-the.
long-bodied and long-limbed shape,
his uncovered blond hair flying back
from face cut like the high-bred
features of French noble. He
bounded by the hand-mill and crossed
fence at the foot of the garden.
When Antywine thought he was
about to overtake the object down
the ravine, scamper of horses S
hoofs sounded through the valley.
Peggy's captor had left horse ready
for flight. Instead of making SOUTH
eastward for the Rock creek bridge
and the road to Springfield, he rounded
the bluff and the village, and was evil
IDENTIFY striking toward Beardstown.
The western continuation of New Salem
street, stretching across the prairies
until it met and curved with bluffs
along the Sangamon, was the route to
Beardstown, which stood at the juno
tion OF the Sangamon with the Illi-
nois.
Light-footed as deer, scarcely paus-
ing to think. Antywine with inherited
instinct turned east toward the river,
though 1t was the direction opposite
that in which Peggy was carried. A
boat could be found at the mill. The
river was high and running swiftly.
By taking advantage of the unusual
current he might reach the bluff road
as soon as horse foundering across
the mud of the prairies would be able
to reach it. What he would then do
afoot he did not attempt to foresee.
There was a small settlement at the
mouth OF Rock creek called Wolf. Oxen
were more plentiful than horses in
Wolf, as New Salem; yet Antywine
had one passing fash of determination
to go there and demand a horse. But
breathless with haste, he plunged
through naked woods and down the
terraced bank of the Sangamon, sliding
on dead leaves in his descent, straight
to the mill.
The boat was tied above the dam. He
pushed out before he thought of the
dam, half covered by swelling water
and roaring across the width of the
Sangamon. Antywine was never more
alive than when his feet were planted
in a boat. He came of line of voy-
ageurs who had threaded Canadian
rapids time out of mind. Although his
later years had been spent in Belle
vile, off great stream courses, his in
horn dexterity was too much part
Of him to be forgotten. There was no
time for thought. He swooped down
the curve poised in the stern of his
boat, laughing aloud at the shock,
which nearly swamped him. The boat
ran without direction, making for
partly submerged trees while he bailed
with his hands. -Antywine stuck out
an oar for rudder, and turned his
craft into the racing current. So,
baling with one hand and steering with
the other, he got under way, and was
soon able to sit On the bench, fit the
cars into rowloct1s, and pull with the
racing force which spun him along.
Branches and logs menaced his dim
course.
The shores were black. Froth spots
like white money appeared and disap-
peared around him with phosphoric
swiftness. And underneath rose and
fell the bullfrogs' diapason.
Not many miles down was the fork
of the Sangamon, where the stream
turned toward the Illinois. Boards
town, by prairie and river-bluff route,
was nearly 40 miles from New Salem.
Frost was out of the ground, and a
bottomless trail would delay the most
hurried rider. The scalIoped bank,
ascending and descending in serated
cliff and hollow, seeming to swim past
Antywine, finally curved away from
a wider current; and he made for shore
through drift. He drew the boat out,
and LEFT it beached above the rising
water.
There was no sound abroad in all
that void darkness except the Sanga-