Beyond any possibility of doubt he was
on the right scent this time. Murphy was riding north upon a mission
as desperate as ever man was called upon to perform. The chance of his
coming forth alive from that Indian-haunted land was, as the operator
truthfully said, barely one out of a hundred. Hampton thought of this.
He durst not venture all he was so earnestly striving after--love,
reputation, honor--to the chance of a stray Sioux bullet. No! and he
remembered Naida again, her dark, pleading eyes searching his face. To
the end, to the death if need were, he would follow!
The memory of his old plains craft would not permit any neglect of the
few necessaries for the trip. He bought without haggling over prices,
but insisted on the best. So it was four in the afternoon when he
finally struck into the trail leading northward. This proved at first
a broad, plainly marked path, across the alkali plain. He rode a
mettlesome, half-broken bronco, a wicked-eyed brute, which required to
be conquered twice within the first hour of travel; a second and more
quiet animal trailed behind at the end of a lariat, bearing the
necessary equipment.
Pages:
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350