SALLIE
Amos was taken aback when he saw the
girl standing there in the doorway of the old
cabin in the pine woods.
He had supposed that when he set that
greasy old ruffian, Crawley, down as a vagabond,
without a single good quality in his
make-up, he was only doing him justice and to
discover that he actually had a decent trait
in his miserable character, was quite enough
to shake Amos’s faith in his own ability to
read men.
This was when he saw Crawley actually
bend down and kiss the girl. It made Amos
shudder, too, somehow, when he thought of
those tobacco stained lips coming in contact
with the red ones of the frail girl.
At any rate, Amos thought, if this were his
child, she surely could not have any of Crawley’s
nature in her; for he looked the drinking
scoundrel the boy knew him to be, while somehow
Amos thought of angels he had seen in
dreams when he saw her yellow hair and big
blue eyes.
So this was Sallie! She seemed somewhat
surprised to see a boy with the two men and
turned those big eyes reproachfully upon
Crawley, which action somehow caused him
to squirm uneasily, and say hastily:
“Oh! we ain’t a-goin’ to kill the little fool,
Sallie. All we wants is ter keep him close
here a few days, so he can’t meddle in other
people’s bizness. Ye see, it ain’t safe for
greenies ter be aroamin’ the woods, when
fellers is ahuntin’. They don’t know how ter
handle highfalutin’ guns, an’ are apt to do
damage ter pore hard workin’ root gatherers
like Gabe ’n me. Set that meat down in a
corner, ye gump, an’ don’t stant thar astarin’
at my Gal. Sallie, sense ye got sech a fine
fire, I reckon we might’s well cut off some o’
this fresh mutton, and make a meal o’ it.
Gabe, spose ye keep one eye on our new friend
hyar, an’ if he tries ter vamose, wing him.”
The girl said nothing, but she evidently
understood that these two evil men had some
wicked game in prospect. Amos saw her
shoot a pitying glance toward him, and somehow
he was not sorry that he had been brought
to that cabin.
Of course, the presence of that splendid
repeating rifle made her think the young owner
must be well to do, and she knew from experience
that such people always had a certain
stamp of value in the eyes of her unscrupulous
parent, who was forever trying to collect the
living he said the world owed him.
Amos had by this time recovered from his
great surprise and was beginning to wonder
whether he might not sooner or later reap
some benefit from this new situation.
The girl looked as though she could not
possibly enter into any of the wicked plans
of her father and his equally unprincipled
partner; perhaps Amos might prevail upon
her to even set him free, once the chance
presented itself.
And the more the boy looked upon the
slender little figure, almost pitiful in comparison
with the bulky frames of the men, or even
his own stocky form, the less he found to
regret in his apparently desperate situation.
Why, he had never imagined that such a
sweet child existed; for in all his experience
he could not remember having looked upon a
face that appealed so to the best that was in
him as Sallie’s seemed to do.
Boy-like, he wondered what she thought
of him. He knew that his appearance could
not be very prepossessing, especially after
carrying that meat so long.
Now and then he saw her glance curiously
at him. When she was not looking Amos
ran his fingers through his hair. He even
stepped over to a tin basin that held some
water, and washed his hands. The sight of
spots of dried blood on them disturbed him.
Somehow, he thought she might not like to
see it.
Sallie went about her task of cooking the
fresh venison with the air of one who knew all
about the little wrinkles connected with such
work; no doubt she had prepared her father’s
meals for a considerable time, perhaps since
her mother died.
The man she called father was an ugly
citizen when aroused, or drinking; and Amos
found himself wondering whether he ever
descended so low as to actually strike this
child, when the brute nature was on top.
Somehow the very thought of such a thing
gave the boy a cold chill. He found himself
shutting his teeth hard together, and muttering
to himself what he would do in case he
ever happened to see that heavy fist raised
to strike that patient face, in which the eyes
shone as Amos had seen them in an innocent
fawn; only hers were blue like the skies, instead
of hazel.
At least he could see no sign of any mark
or bruise about her face, and the man really
seemed to entertain some sort of affection for
the girl, the more remarkable because no one
would ever suspect him of being capable of
any such feeling.
When early supper was ready, they sat
down at a rude table, a couple of benches
supplying seats for all.
Amos found himself opposite the girl, and
of course he could not help keeping his eyes
upon her a good deal of the time. She was the
only object worth attention; and the two
rough featured poachers looked like beings
from another world beside Sallie.
The men talked little, and then it was of
ordinary subjects. Evidently they did not
mean to discuss any secrets while the other two
were alongside.
From time to time, though, Gabe would ask
him something in connection with his camp
mate, Dolph Bradley. While the woods boy
might have felt like declining to supply them
with the information they wished, a glance
into the red eyes, and the scowling face of his
questioner, was enough to convince him that
such defiance would only be the height of
folly. So he answered as best he could.
Sallie seemed to be taking more interest in
him as the rude meal progressed. She even
spoke to him once, asking if he would like to
have some more of the meat, or some stew
from the big iron pot.
If Amos missed the splendid “Kababs,”
which Dolph knew so well how to prepare, as
he had eaten it in canoeists’ camps, he at least
had no reason to complain on the score of
hunger; for he ate most heartily; showing
that it takes something more than the shadow
of possible coming trouble to seriously affect
the appetite of a healthy boy.
After the meal Gabe stood in the doorway
of the cabin smoking his pipe, and apparently
listening, as though he half expected to hear
something.
While he stood there he laughed as though
pleased. Amos, too, had been keeping his
keen ears on the alert, and he also caught the
three gunshots fired by Dolph at the suggestion
of Teddy.
Amos was a little surprised that they could
hear the shots, which seemed to come from
the quarter where the men had shot the doe,
and captured him. It gave him additional
reason to believe that in coming to the cabin
they had for some reason or other followed a
more or less circuitous route.
Pretty soon, then, these wretches would be
setting their trap to catch one or both of his
friends.
Would he be helpless to prevent the springing
of the same?
Amos, filled with a new zeal, began to observe
everything about him, with the idea of
utilizing the knowledge later on, when perhaps
it might prove valuable. He marked the
position of the open window; saw where the
men placed their guns; figured in his mind just
how many steps it was to the door; noted how
this same barrier seemed to be secured with a
stout bar; and in numerous other ways fortified
himself for action, with a view to outwitting
his enemies, should so much as half
a chance arise.
And whenever he thought of Teddy, somehow
he could not despair; for in this time of
trouble the lumberman’s wide awake son
seemed to be a tower of strength. Why,
Amos even begun to pluck up hope that he
might even be able to outwit these plotters
at their own game.
He felt that the two boys must have started
out to look for him; those three shots told
that much. Remembering the ability of
Teddy especially as a woodsman, Amos believed
they would experience little difficulty in
following his trail up to the place of his encounter
with the poachers.
From that point Hackett had made sure
that the job would be easy. He meant to
“toll” the other boys into a trap, just as a
little barking dog is used by gunners along the
Chesapeake Bay, to gambol on the sand, and
so excite the curiosity of beds of ducks that
they keep pushing in a little further to observe,
until within reach of the death dealing guns.
Would his chums wait until morning before
taking action?
Amos knew better.
If they headed toward the cabin, following
the trail by the aid of torchlight, or using the
lantern, why they might arrive inside of a
few hours.
It was dark outside now.
The girl had lighted a candle, and this, with
the fire, dimly illuminated the interior of the
cabin.
The two men were huddled over by the
door, talking in low tones. Amos would have
been glad to have caught a part of what they
were saying, and even did incline his ear that
way; but their voices only sounded like a
rumble, and he soon gave up all hope of hearing
anything worth while.
Then he became aware of the fact that the
girl, washing her few dishes at the table near
by, was observing him with something like a
glance of amusement in her blue eyes.
Amos forgot his own troubles for the time
being. He only wished Sallie might take a
notion to come a little closer, so he could talk
with her.
It would seem as though his desire must
have impressed itself upon his face in some
way, for sure enough, Sallie did edge in his
direction, still busy with her dish pan, and the
suspicious looking crockery that had served
them at supper.
She cast a quick glance toward her father,
as if to see whether either of the men were
paying the slightest attention. But they
seemed to be “head over ears” interested
in what they were discussing.
“Won’t you take pity on me, Sallie and
talk a little?” said Amos, in a low tone. “Who
are you, anyway?”
She smiled back at Amos as she replied
swiftly:
“Why, Sallie Crawley, don’t you know?”
“Is Crawley your real, true dad?” the boy
went on to ask.
“Why, yes, of course; don’t you know
that?” she answered.
“I never heard he ever had a wife or child,
when he used to work in the lumber camp;
and least of all, a girl like you,” Amos went
on, growing a little bolder.
“Well, he has,” she replied. “I’m like
my mother used to be, because she had yellow
hair and blue eyes, dad says. He often looks
at me kinder queer, and shakes his head. I
guess I make him think he sees her again.”
“Does he take you around everywhere with
him?” Amos next asked.
“Oh! no. Sometimes now I stay with my
grandmother at the Soo. But dad, he gets
lonely once in a while, and comes after me.
I always go, ’cause I promised her I’d never,
never give him up. And then, dad, he hates
to cook for himself—all men do, I guess.”
“But Crawley has a pretty hard reputation—excuse
me for saying it, Sallie—he’s an
awful rough man, at best. Are you happy
with him?”
She hesitated before replying to this. Amos
could see a shadow cross her thin face; but
evidently pride must have come to the rescue,
for presently she tossed her yellow mane back
and said:
“Why, I s’pose so—least ways as happy as
I ought to expect. There is just heaps of
trouble in this world, anyhow, whichever
way you take it, and everybody must just
grin and bear it. Dad is good to me—sometimes.
Then he’s ugly too; but that’s only
when he’s been having too much whiskey.
That’s an awful thing to change a man. I
hope you don’t drink it, boy.”
“Not a drop for me, as long as I live,”
declared Amos. “But see here, Sallie, it
ain’t fair for me to know your name, and you
to just call me ‘boy’. I’m Amos Simmons,
and I’ve been in the lumber camps of Northern
Michigan, cookin’, and doing all what-not,
for just years. Now, I’ve got a couple of
mighty fine chums not far away, one of them
named Teddy Overton, and the other Dolph
Bradley.”
She uttered a little exclamation.
“I’ve met Teddy Overton once; he’s a
splendid boy,” she said, hastily.
“Well, I guess that’s just right,” remarked
Amos. “Now, you see the other, Dolph,
he’s from Cincinnati. Everybody knows that
his father’s rich. Why, they’ve got oodles
of money. I kind o’ think your dad and
Gabe, there, know it; and right now they’re
a hatching some measly plan expectin’ to
separate Dolph’s folks from a lot of that spare
cash. And that’s the reason they pulled me
in like they did.”
He kept one eye on the men while saying
this.
The girl looked surprised.
“Oh! then it ain’t you they’re meaning to
hold up?” she asked.
Amos chuckled, as though amused at the
idea.
“Precious little good I’d do them,” he
said. “They might keep me till their hair
turned white, and nobody’d pay a nickel
for lettin’ me go free. But they’re sharp,
I tell you, Sallie. They know them boys
are bound to look for me. Don’t you see,
it’s going to be a trap, and I’m the bait.
And unless you or me warn the boys, they’re
just bound to tumble right into it!”
Amos watched her thin face closely when
he advanced this “feeler,” as he chose to call
it. Sallie started, and looked very serious.
“Me?” she said, slowly.
“Why, yes,” Amos went on, “you wouldn’t
want to see a nice feller like my friend Dolph,
kept here like he was a dog, would you, Sallie;
till somebody sent on some money? If he
could be warned, I guess, with Teddy’s help,
he might manage to keep clear of the trap.”
“But—what are you saying, boy—you
want me to stand up agin dad, and upset his
game? My! but he’d be awful mad,” she
said, reflectively; and her face looked as careworn
as that of a grown woman, Amos thought.
“Well, it might save him from going to
prison, that’s all,” he said, “and I guess you
wouldn’t like that to happen to him.”
“Oh! no, of course not. You see, boy, I
promised mother to stand by dad right along,
and try to get him to quit drinkin’ and being
tough. He could be decent if he just let that
stuff alone, and kept away from that Gabe
Hackett. When him and me are alone, and
he ain’t got no drink, he’s good. I keep
hopin’ and hopin’; but it’s terrible hard work.
I sure don’t know how it’s goin’ to end.
Sometimes I’m afraid of what he does.”
There was a almost whimper in her voice,
that cut the boy cruelly.
“He don’t hit you, I hope, Sallie?” he said,
glancing in the direction of the two men.
“Oh! no,” she answered, quickly, “not
that. He started to do it a few times, but I
just stood there and looked at him, like my
poor mother did that last time he struck her;
and he just can’t do it, you see. But now
you won’t want me to go agin him. Do you
think it’s right to ask a girl to do that, when
it’s her own father?”
“Yes,” said Amos boldly, “if he was sick
and the doctor told you to give him some
bitter medicine that’d make him well, you’d
sure do it, no matter what your dad said.
Well, you’re goin’ to save him this way, you
know.”
“Yes, yes,” she breathed, putting a hand
to her breast, as if the conflict of emotions
almost overpowered her, “she did the same
more’n once, broke his bottle to save him;
and that was why he hit her.”
“Was she sorry that she done it?” asked
Amos, craftily.
“I know she said, when she came to again,
after lyin’ there a whole hour, with me a cryin’
my eyes out, believin’ her dead—she said
she’d do it again whenever she had the chance,
if he killed her for it. She believed she’d been
sent to try and save dad—poor little mother,
she never lived to see the day.”
Amos was feeling somewhat remorseful
about thus working upon her feelings; but he
really believed he was doing the best thing
for everybody.
“Then her duty has come down to you,
Sallie,” he went on to say. “If this crazy
scheme goes through, you can just bet your dad
will end his days locked up in jail. Now, by
playing a little trick on Gabe Hackett you can
upset his plan and save your father. Anyhow,
you know it’s Gabe’s idea, and he’s
just dragging your weak dad into it.”
Amos winced a little when saying this but
he felt that the end justified the means.
Crawley had the word “rascal” written all
over his face, and apparently it required very
little persuading to “drag” him into any
scheme that promised easy money.
Sallie seemed to ponder over what the boy
had suggested.
“Yes, it’s sure my duty to save him, even
if I has to seem agin him. That was what my
mother said to me. Amos Simmons, I guess
you’re right. I’d die if my dad was sent to
jail. He ain’t never been there yet, you
know. What do you want me to do, boy?”
and she shivered, as if her resolution was
made.
“Wait and see,” whispered Amos, “two of
us ought to be able to beat a pair like that.
They’re only bunglers, anyway. I’m dependin’
on you, girl, remember. When Teddy
Overton comes, you’ll be right glad you
promised to help. You’ve heard of his dad,
the head of the big lumber company, ain’t
you? But laugh a little, Sallie, ’cause Gabe,
he’s watchin’ us like a hawk, right now. It
wouldn’t be good for us if he thought we was
hatchin’ up a way to pull the wool over his
eyes. Laugh, and make out as how I was
sayin’ something funny like.”
Sallie understood, and played her part so
well that Hackett, who had been growing
suspicious at seeing them with their heads
together as if in confidential conversation,
seemed satisfied that all was well, for he went
on with his argument.
And so the minutes crept on. An hour had
passed since they heard those three shots.
The boys must be on the trail, and presently
Gabe and Crawley would be considering it
high time they set their trap. And yet Amos
had not been able to figure out just how he
was going to prevent the capture from taking
place.