The Snowflake herald., 1918-03-29
CHAPTER XIV.
Ambushed.

Colby Macdonald, in miners boots
and corduroy working suiS, stood be-
side his horse with one arm thrown
carelessly across it's rump. He was
about to start for Seven Mile Creek
camp with $2,700 in the saddleEsags to
pay the men there.
Diane was talking with him. "She's
young and fine and spirited. OF course
it was a great shock to her. She had
been ideallzing you. But / think she
is beginning to understand things bet
ter. At any rate, she does not hate
you any more. Give the girl time"
"You think she will-be reasonable?"
II don't know. But I'm sure of one
thing She'll not be reasonable, as you
call it, unless you are reasonable"
"You mean-Elliot?"
eyes. She likes him very much. Do
you know that when the Indian woman
came he urged Sheba not to listen to
her story?"
Sounds likely-after he had spent
his good money bringing her here"
sneered the mine owner.
"He didn't. Gordon is a splendid fell
low. He wouldn't lie," answered Di-
ane hotly. "And one thing is sure-if
you lay a finger on him for this, it will
be fatal with Sheba. She will be
through with you"
Macdonald had thought of this be-
fore. 1t had been coming to him from
several different angles that he could
not afford to crafty his desire to wipe
this meddlesome young official from
his path. He made a slow, sulky
promise.
"All right. I'll let him alone. Peter
can tell him."
Swinging to the saddle, he spurred
his horse and cantered away. His
mind was full Of the problem that had
come into his life. He rode abstract
edly, so that he was at the lower ford
Of the creek almost before he knew it.
A bilberry thicket struggled down to
the opposite bank of the stream on
both sides of the road.
The horse splashed through the ford
and took the little rise beyond with a
rush. Just before reaching the brow
of the hill, the animal stumbled and
fell. AS it's rider went headlong, he
caught a glimpse of a cord drawn taut
across the path.
Macdonald, shaken by the fall, began
slowly to rise. From the shadows Of
the bilberry bushes two STOPPING fig
ures rushed at him. He threw up an
arm to ward off the club aimed at his
head, but succeeded only in breaking
the force Of the blow. AS he staggered
back stunned, a bullet glanced along
his forehead and ridged a furrow
through the thick hair. A second
stroke of the club Jared him to the
heels.
Though his mind was not clear, his
body answered automatically the in
stinct that told him to close with his
assailants. He lurched forward and
gripped one, wrestling with him for
the revolver. Vaguely he knew by the
sharp, Jagged shoots of pain that the
second man was beating his head with
a club. The warm blood dripped
through his hair and blinded his eyes.
DaZed and shaken, he yet managed to
get the revolver from the man who had
it. But it was his last effort. He was
too far gone to use it. A blow on the
forehead brought him unconscious to
the ground bleeding from a dozen
wounds.
On his way back to Seven Mile Greek
camp Gordon Elliot rode down the
ford. In the dusk he was almost upon
them before the robbers heard him.
For moment the two men stood gaz-
ing at him and he at the tragedy be-
fore him. One of the men moved
toward his horse.
"Stop there !" ordered Gordon sharp
ly, and reached for his revolver.
The man-it was the miner North
rup-jumped for Elliot and the field
agent fred. Another moment and he
was being dragged from the saddle.
What happened next was never clear
to him. He knew that both of the
bandits closed in on him and that he
was fighting desperately against odds.