Little Wolf.

A TALE
OF THE WESTERN FRONTIER.

BY
MRS. M. A. CORNELIUS.

CINCINNATI:
JOURNAL AND MESSENGER,
No. 178 ELM STREET.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by
MRS. M. A. CORNELIUS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

LITTLE WOLF.

CHAPTER I.

A sad breakfast—The Sherman Family—The language of flowers—What a Young Man was sure of—The Parting.

arly in the morning of a long ago midsummer's day, the inmates of a quiet New England home were making unusual preparations for the approaching repast. The mistress of the house was ostensibly overseeing the table; but there was an uncertainty in her movements, which indicated a contradictory mingling of interest and abstraction, such as agitates the mind, when trifles intrude on more weighty matters. Not so the maid in attendance, who had served in her present capacity for more than twenty years, and was without dispute an adept in the culinary department, if not in affairs of the heart. She was not so obtuse, however, in the present instance, as not to perceive the uncomfortable state of her mistress, and, notwithstanding the pressure of business in hand, she magnanimously paused a moment to attempt a word of comfort. How to approach a subject which had been continually on the lips of the whole family for weeks, was now the poor girl's difficulty. Every instant was precious. She was in a measure neglecting the smoking viands under her supervision, and her long established reputation as cook was in jeopardy. At this critical juncture she blundered out, "Mrs. Sherman, it's a pity; indeed, it is, that he, that Edward, is bent on going."

"Why, Recta," interrupted a musical voice reproachfully, "ma is already convinced that it is a pity Edward is going. It remains for us to persuade her that he will speedily return."

"Bless my heart, is that Miss Louise?" said Recta, turning to the person who had so unceremoniously interrupted her condolements. "Well, now, I declare," she continued, "if I ain't beat. Young girls have great arts of covering up their feelings. There's Miss Louise taking on, and walking her chamber all night, and now she's telling me what to say as unconcerned as if this wasn't the last meal she was going to enjoy with her only brother."

"O fie, Recta, haven't I told you that Edward is coming home again soon," said Louise, and, she added with a blush, "You must have heard kitty in your dreams, and magnified her step into mine. You know you have often said my tread was as light as Tabby's."

"But it wasn't, last night," persisted the other, "it was as heavy as lead."

The blush deepened on the young lady's cheek; not so much on account of the audacity with which this privileged servant had assailed her veracity, as for other and more private reasons, herein unfolded. It was not indeed, the distress occasioned by her brother's departure, which, as intimated in the preceding conversation, was about to occur, that she desired to hide; but there was one to accompany him, on whom she had bestowed more than a sister's love, and furthermore, this friend, having arrived the day before, had progressed, perhaps farther in his suit than on any former occasion, Such being the state of the case, it was natural, that, with her lover under the same roof, she should be jealous of exhibiting feelings, others than a sister's love would warrant. To cover her confusion, therefore, which Recta secretly exulted in having occasioned, she retorted;

"Heavy footsteps! ridiculous! Look at me," and she drew up her slight little figure; "for shame, Recta; confess it was your heavy ears, and I'll forgive you."

Recta compressed her lips and Louise immediately changed her tactics.

"What a nice breakfast! Recta knows what Ned likes, don't she, ma? Fie! Ned wont stay long away from Recta and broiled chickens, will he, ma?"

Recta's lips visibly expanded. "I reckon he won't stay long away from Miss Louise and flowers," said she, glancing at a beautiful bouquet, which Louise held in her hand.

"Aren't they lovely, Recta? I've just gathered them fresh for Edward. Now I'll arrange them on the table, while you put on the hot dishes.'"

"Gathered for Edward, as much as they are for me," muttered the unconquered servant. "Roses and forget-me-nots mean—well, George Goodrich will know what they mean; that's enough."

As dispatch was no mean part of the cook's accomplishments, it was not long before the parties mentioned in her private conjectures were seated at the breakfast table, in company with the family, the names of all of whom we know already. It will be observed that allusion has been made to but one parent. The memory of the other, still lived fresh in the affections of his wife and children, and deserves first notice among those whose plans and persons we shall endeavor in a few words, to introduce more minutely to the reader.

Judge Sherman was a man, who, through a long and active life, was distinguished for inflexible integrity, and, by means of sterling talents, he rose to the first rank in his profession as a lawyer. He married at an early age, although his courtship approached closely to the term of years which Jacob served for Rachel. Political differences of opinion were the obstacles which opposed his suit. In those days the Federalists and Democrats indulged in animosities as bitter as those which existed between the Jews and Samaritans. The latter party, being in its infancy, could ill afford to lose even a petticoat from its ranks. Luckily for the young Federalist, the lady of his choice was in her heart a rebel to her father's will and purposes. But after she became Mrs. Sherman, the united influences of both did not annihilate the opposite party, as its future history, clearly demonstrates. The ball, set rolling by Jefferson, continued to roll on, and Judge Sherman, to the day of his death, never saw his favorite principles triumph. In his efforts of a pecuniary nature he was more successful. He had accumulated a handsome property, consisting mainly of many broad acres of well-cultivated Massachusetts soil, which, for a long course of years, had been in charge of a faithful and efficient tenant, occupying a cottage a short distance from his own dwelling, a plain old-fashioned house, situated on an airy knoll near the centre of his domains.

Here, for nearly two years after her husband's death, Mrs. Sherman lived in seclusion, receiving only occasional visits from her children, Edward and Louise. The son being engaged in studying his father's profession, while the daughter was at school preparing herself, it would be safe to say, to follow her mother's business. Indeed, it was a fixed fact in her own mind, that when George Goodrich, her brother's warm friend and her ladyship's still warmer admirer, should become established in his profession as a physician, she would then trust herself to his care, without fear of poverty or disease. But the young M. D. having no patrimony, and becoming disgusted with the slow path in which he was treading to fortune, resolved to turn his course into a rougher road at the far West.

About the same time, Edward Sherman, having been admitted to the Bar, with no other reason except Yankee restlessness and craving, turned his thoughts in a similar direction. On discovering to each other their mutual proclivities, the friends determined to set out together, as soon as Edward could gain his mother's consent, for the Territory of Minnesota. With characteristic nobleness and fortitude, Mrs. Sherman sacrificed her her own to her son's wishes, and it was not until the morning of his departure, that her courage faltered.

Mother-like she sat at the head of the table, unable to swallow a mouthful herself, while urging every delicacy upon her darling son.

"Do, dear Edward, have another cup of coffee," she pleaded, observing that his cup was empty, while his breakfast remained untasted.

"Well, just to accommodate," said Edward smiling. "I really have not much appetite this morning."

"I'm glad you can relish it, Mr. Edward," said Recta, in a whining tone. "It's seasoned with old Spot's cream, and I'm thinking it will be a long time before you'll taste any more tame milk, out there among them wild cattle."

At this remark, the great square dining-room rang with the laughter of the younger occupants of the old-fashioned straight backed chairs,—this being the only room in the house, to which the progressive spirit had not yet extended, except, indeed, that which was manifested in the cut glass decanters, standing empty on the handsome sideboard.

A deep convulsive sob broke from Mrs. Sherman, and the merriment instantly ceased. The mother leaned forward and covering her face with her hands, gave vent to her long suppressed feelings. Edward was by her side in an instant, and throwing his arms around her neck, exclaimed:

"Mother, I will not leave you!"

"Then I can't go alone," whispered George Goodrich to Louise.

"Ma," said Louise, "Dr. Goodrich says he will stay, too."

"No, not quite that," said the embarrassed lover.

"O, you must both go," interrupted Mrs. Sherman, recovering with an effort her presence of mind; "and we are wasting precious time," she continued, pointing to the clock, with returning firmness.

The old clock which occupied one corner in seven feet grandeur, would as soon have thought of stopping to indulge in sighs and tears, as would Mrs. Sherman, when her spirit was moved to the necessity for action. So, all the scruples of her son were peremptorily shut out of existence, and Recta, frowned into silence, withheld the probe, which, having fallen into the common error, she had mistaken for the healing salve.

In passing briefly over the season of parting, there is an item which should claim special attention for a moment, as it is intimately connected with the destination of our adventurers.

As Edward stood by the family carriage, which was to transport them to the public conveyance, while waiting for his friend, who had appropriated to himself a private moment with Louise, Mrs. Sherman inquired rather anxiously, "Edward, have you that letter?"

"Yes, mother," and, more to fill up an unpleasant gap of time than to prove his veracity, he produced from his pocket the missive. It was superscribed, "Dr. DeWolf, Chimney Rock, Minnesota Territory."

Prompted by the same motive which had actuated the other, Mrs. Sherman repeated some of her previous instructions.

"Now, Edward, when you arrive at Penddleton, by all means make an immediate effort to discover the whereabouts of Dr. DeWolf. I should much like to hear from your father's early friend. I think he states, in the only letter we have ever received from him, that he has fixed his home at Chimney Rock, in the vicinity of Pendleton. However, he may have removed from there by this time, although he was not of a roving disposition. The persuasions of an affectionate wife, who saw with anxiety, her husband's growing love for the wine cup, induced him to emigrate to the far West. In breaking away from the associations which led him to form the habit, she hoped he might attain that rank in his profession, which his brilliant youth had promised. Edward," and here Mrs. Sherman's voice sank to a whisper, "your father was saved about that time. It was by signing the Washingtonian Temperance Pledge. Be warned, my son, and flee the temptation which had well nigh stigmatized you as a drunkard's son. I have always intended to tell you this, but the subject was too harrowing. I could not do it."

"You might have saved yourself the pain, now, mother," said Edward proudly; "There is no danger of me."

That positive declaration came from just such a son, as many a widowed mother and affectionate sister have doted on. Generous, warm-hearted, and strikingly handsome, Edward Sherman, appeared a perfect type of manhood. Were it not that the noblest forms have sometimes hid blemished souls the world had not so often been baptized in tears.

The lovers were now at hand. Time had flown with them on a "dove's wings," and its flutterings lightened their last adieu.

CHAPTER II.

Pendleton—The Revelation at the Saloon—Euphonious names—The encounter—Our heroine appears and highwaymen disappear.

journey of a few days brought our travellers to the lively, bustling village, which for convenience we have named Pendleton, situated on the Upper Mississippi. After several hours of rest and refreshment at their hotel, they sallied out to enjoy a pedestrian excursion in the cool of the day. Not much of the place of their sojourn was visible. Gaslight, had not wandered so far from its birthplace. The enterprising inhabitants, however, had manufactured an article by the same name, but it was never known to generate light. The wagging of the machinery was all that came of it.

"Lager Beer," pronounced Edward Sherman, glancing at the gilt letters, that stood out in bold relief on the illumined window of a fashionable saloon, which they were at the moment passing.

"Yes, lager beer," repeated George Goodrich, musingly. "Ned, what a nation of beer drinkers we are becoming. Not at the east only, but these western towns seem to have a beer saloon at every corner."

"Well, Doctor, what is more harmless than beer? Come, let us turn back and take a glass;" and suiting the action to the word, Edward had passed behind the screen which shaded the entrance, before the expostulations of his companion, who followed mechanically, could reach his ear.

While Edward was leisurely sipping his lager, the loud and angry voices of a party of young men, who were in the act of leaving an adjoining apartment, used as a billiard saloon, attracted his attention. As a lady proved to be the cause of the altercation, we will do them the justice to state that they were decidedly under the influence of stimulants, One of their number, less insane than his companions, was endeavoring to quell the disturbance.

"Gentlemen," he said, "the name of a lady, whom we all respect should not be used too freely."

"Just so," chimed in another, "I say, let the matter rest."

"The hatchet is buried. Peace, peace, to Dr. DeWolf and his lovely daughter, forever," sang out the third.

The name and place, introduced in the quarrel, quite satisfied Edward that the daughter of his father's friend was the subject of the altercation.

"I've had a revelation to-night, George," said Edward, when they were again in the street.

"Then your eyes were opened, and you saw the handwriting on the wall, did you? Pity, those poor fools we left behind, could not borrow your optics."

"Ah, Doctor, you're on the wrong track. It has been revealed to me, that Dr. DeWolf has a lovely daughter, and—come, now, don't interrupt me with your old-fashioned, worn-out temperance hobby—as I was about to say, I have in my possession a letter of introtion to said DeWolf. He was formerly a friend of father's, and, of course, it will be my duty to cultivate his acquaintance and that of his lovely daughter, as early as possible,—say to-morrow. What say you, friend sober-sides? You know, my particular weakness is a lovely lady."

"Why, it's no affair of mine, Ned. Flirting is out of my line. But, how do you know the lady is lovely?"

"Why, was it not revealed to me, through the imprudence of a whole bevy of her admirers."

"O, but, Ned, the ravings of a set of drunken rowdies is not conclusive evidence."

"True," said Edward more seriously, "but," smiling again, "it's a young lady, anyhow, and I hope she is handsome."

Nothing further was said on the subject that evening, but, on the day following, young Sherman was informed by the landlord, of whom he inquired, that Dr. DeWolf resided at Chimney Rock, about five miles distant, and to the question, "Has he a family?" replied, "But one daughter, a beauty of some celebrity."

The informant observed the gratified twinkle in the eye of his guest and was not surprised when Edward ordered a carriage to be in readiness for him directly after dinner.

"The road is precipitous in some places, and horseback riding is considered safer," suggested the landlord.

"Well, two saddle horses, then," replied the other.

Accordingly, at the time above specified, our adventurers, each mounted on a dapple gray, set out for Chimney Rock. The scorching sun, and dusty streets, and poor little withered flowers by the wayside, prodigals from the adjoining valley, were soon exchanged for the "Valley Road," fringed with the loveliest specimens of the floral family, and cooled by the shade of the surrounding bluffs. Like all other things in life, this part of their journey was of short duration.

"Half a mile on this road," said Edward, reining in his steed, and repeating previous instructions, "brings us to the 'Siamese Twins' a double bluff singularly joined towards the top by the projection of an enormous rock. Now, we are here, and no mistake, then turn to the right."

"And keep the road as best we may," said Dr. Goodrich, raising his hat, and wiping the perspiration from his brow. "Well, come on."

They went on, on and on, over rocks and ledges and fallen trees; fording streams and climbing heights (for they had lost their way) until the lengthened twilight, attendant on the summer evenings of Minnesota, began to darken into night.

At this junction, when it may be readily imagined that Edward Sherman's ardor had somewhat cooled, and the emotions of his fellow traveller were not of the most agreeable nature, alternate snatches of song-singing and whistling were heard, not far distant. The bewildered parties rode hastily forward, and met the musician.

"Can you tell how far we are from Chimney Rock, my friend? We have lost our way," said Edward frankly.

"Why no, you ain't lost your way neither," replied the stranger roughly. "You are there, now. Just ride round the 'tother side of this bluff, and you'll see all there is of it."

"Well, can you inform me where Dr. DeWolf lives?"

"I guess I can. Keep right straight ahead, when you get the 'tother side of the Pass, there. That road takes you down to Hog Run, and the Run takes you to Beer Holler, and the brewery is right in the Holler, and 'tother side of that, on the hill, is Dr. DeWolf's."

"What a huddle of euphonious names," exclaimed the Doctor, after having proffered a "Thank you, sir," to the individual who had so opportunely appeared. "Beer Hollow will be just suited to your mind, Ned. In that romantic spot, inhaling the perfume of your favorite beverage, love making will be doubly intoxicating."

"Hush, Doctor, eavesdroppers ahead," said Edward, pointing towards the Pass.

Now, the Pass was nothing more than a narrow strip of table land, serving as a passage way between the Mississippi River, and a towering bluff. The view of the river was here intercepted by a thick grove of trees and shrubbery, which our horsemen had already entered. They did not, therefore, see the tiny green skiff, with its sprinkling of white letters on the bow, christening it "Comet," shoot ahead, and dart into the little cove near by, one of the most romantic and cosy of those emerald-hung parlors opening from the grand reception hall, of the "Father of Waters." Neither did they see the fair occupant rise on tip-toe, and peep mischieveously, through the festooned loopholes of the forest.

But they saw the dark objects to which the last speaker had called attention, partially concealed by the trees. The beast on which Edward was mounted stopped suddenly, shivering, apparently with fear. Instantaneously, two dark figures darted from their lurking places, and, in low gutteral tones demanded money. Unarmed, and completely in the power of the ruffians, who each, pistol in hand, held firmly by bit and bridle, the horse of his victim, the part of wisdom, seemed to be to surrender.

At that instant, a slight figure glided from the thicket behind the waylayers, and cautiously drawing forth a revolver which projected from the belt of the nearest, placed the muzzle at his back and fired. He fell with a deep groan. Another discharge followed quickly, and his companion reeled several yards, seizing convulsively trees and shrubbery, and finally, was heard sliding down the bank towards the river.

"Now, ride for your lives, there's more of them," said their deliverer, in a voice husky with excitement.

"What will you do?" said Edward.

"Take my skiff."

"No, mount here, quick," and he drew her up, and set off at full speed.

"Now, turn here, now up that hill; now we are there," the lady faintly articulated, as they flew along, and drew up before her father's door.

The house at which they had arrived, was the residence of Dr. DeWolf, and the heroine of the adventure, was no other than the Doctor's only daughter, quaintly named, Little Wolf. She had been, as was her wont, on a short independent trip up the river. In the full enjoyment of the romantic scenery and twilight hour, night had stolen upon her unawares. Warned of her imprudence by the distant clatter of horses, she immediately turned homeward. The swift current aided her efforts, and she neared the Pass, just in time to overhear all that was said. Not satisfied with the dim outline of objects, which a peep through the leaves disclosed, she sprang to the shore, and catching by the branch of an overhanging tree, drew herself up the steep bank. The part which she performed in the perilous encounter is already known to the reader, but the leading motives which prompted it, will be better understood hereafter.

CHAPTER III.

A reign of confusion—Bloody Jim—Little Wolf's allies prepare for defence—Family trouble.

shout from the fugitives brought several faces to the window, and from the door hobbled an old man. He cautiously peered into the gloom, and finally at the sound of a familliar voice sidled up to Edward and his charge.

"'Tween you and me, what's the matter?" said he.

"It's me, help me down, daddy, do, I'm tired," said Little Wolf, in feeble tones.

"O, lamb, O, honey, O, pet, is it you?" exclaimed the old dotard, trembling with apprehension. "'Tween you and me, what has happened to the darling?"

"O, nothing, daddy, only I saw Bloody Jim, and I'm afraid there's more of them."

"O, my Lord, did you? O, my Lord, the men are down to the brewery. O, my, 'tween you and me, what shall we do?"

Perceiving the old man's utter incapacity to the exigency, Edward threw his rein to the Doctor, and immediately bore the young lady into the house. The old man followed, grasping his arm, and shouting in his ear at every step, "'Tween you and me, she saw Bloody Jim, did she—she saw him—did she—ha!"

"In the ante-room, they were met by a little bustling elderly woman, in cap and spectacles. "O, daddy, what is it?" she exclaimed.

"O, mammy," he cried, releasing Edward, and laying hold on his wife,—a method by which he invaribly compelled attention, "'tween you and me, she's seen Bloody Jim she has; she says there's more of them, she does."

"Why, you, old fool, why don't you do something?" said the woman, shaking him off with a jerk. "Lock the doors, shut the windows, call Sorrel Top; blow the horn. Is the love hurt?" turning anxiously to Little Wolf, who was reclining on the sofa.

Mammy had hastily snatched up the small lamp, with which the apartment was dimly lighted, and, as she was scrutinizing her pet, Edward obtained a full view of the young lady's features. He gave a sudden start, and the blood rushed to his face. Was it the lady he had so frequently seen on Broadway, a few months since? he asked himself. Yes, the very same; that countenance was not easily forgotten. Why, she was a New York belle, was his first reflection. Our heroine's voice was still low and agitated as she replied, "O, no, mammy, not hurt, only frightened. You attend to the gentlemen and the house I can take care of myself. I feel better now."

"Well, then, rest here, love; you look pale. Now don't move; don't get excited; nobody shall hurt the pet, I'll tell Sorrel Top to bring you a glass of water."

Amidst the slamming of doors and rattling of windows, mammy was heard calling at the top of her voice, "Sorrel Top, Sorrel, take a glass of water to the parlor;" and to the parlor hastened Sorrel Top. But meeting daddy at the door, she was forcibly detained, and subjected to his deafening vociferations, rendered doubly aggravating, by his using the ear of his auditor as one would a speaking trumpet. The burden of his song, was still "Bloody Jim, Bloody Jim!"

"Who cares for Bloody Jim;" said Sorrel Top angrily; "I don't care for him, nor none of his tribe. Let me go, you, torment."

Daddy held his ground, for he bore in mind firstly: that Sorrel Top was his fellow servant; secondly, she possessed no great strength of muscle or nerve, and, thirdly and lastly, that she was a helpless widow, whom it was no sin to call Sorrel Top, because of her enormous growth of reddish hair.

Edward stepped forward to relieve Sorrel Top of the glass of water, which she was holding at arm's length, and at the same time suggested that a little brandy might be beneficial to the lady.

"Brandy! Brandy! did you say?" sounded in his ear like a knell, and he was caught in the old man's trap. "Laws! young man, she'd as soon drink a rattle snake; she's down on brandy; she's down on the hull of that infarnel stuff. Spirits of every kind is her abhorrence.

The Doctor was highly amused at his friend's predicament, and, giving him a sly wink, remarked, "Beer will do as well, Ned, and it is perfectly harmless, you know."

The Doctor's turn had come, In a still higher stage of excitment, daddy pounced upon him. "Young man," he thundered, "beer harmless? 'tween you and me, lager beer is the devil's pison, slow but sure. Don't you believe me?"

"Coax him away, Sorrel Top," said Little Wolf, rousing herself.

"Come, daddy, Miss DeWolf wants us to be off, she says so," said Sorrel Top, resolutely approaching him.

"Me go! O, no, 'tween you an' me, I must stay and protect the love." The Doctor was instantly released. His assailant had embarked in a new enterprise. But Sorrel Top was firm.

"What good are you doing, I should like to know," she said.

"What good be you a doing, you, hussy?" reiterated daddy; don't you hear mammy blowing the horn; 'tween me an' you, she's short winded. I'll protect the pet."

"Never mind me, daddy," said the young mistress, now quite revived; "if you ain't afraid, you had better assist mammy."

She had touched her would-be-protector in a sensitive spot, and he vehemently ejaculated "me afraid; not I. 'Tween you and me, what should I be afraid of, I would like to know?"

"Why, of Bloody Jim."

The old man glanced dubiously towards the door, and slid out.

Edward eagerly seized the propitious moment to formerly introduce himself and companion, to their fair preserver. Mutual explanation followed, and Little Wolf cordially welcomed our friends to Chimney Rock. "Father is at the brewery," she said, "he'll be in directly; the horn is our alarm bell."

"Is there any further danger to be apprehended?" said Edward; "I think you killed them both."

Little Wolf suddenly changed countenance.

Her beautiful, bewitching face had been half hidden by curls, and covered with blushes, from the moment her faintness had passed off, and, but for the twinkle of those mischief-loving brown eyes, and certain unmistakable movements of her slight figure, she might have passed for meekness itself. To those, therefore, who were unacquainted with her peculiarly nervous and impulsive temperament, the change in her apperance was rather surprising. With one sweep of her plump little hand, she tossed back the ringlets from her brow, and frowningly declared she wished she had killed them. "I didn't kill them, though," she said, "or, at all events, I killed but one; the other, Bloody Jim, he's called, I cannot kill. I've tried it before. He's my evil genius. He carried me off bodily, once, just before I went away to school."

"Indeed," said Edward, deeply interested, "how did you escape?"

"O, a gentleman rescued me."

Edward said "indeed" again, but his tone was slightly changed. He did not feel quite as comfortable, as he had a moment before; but in the unpleasant scene which immediately followed, his chagrin passed unnoticed.

The sound of the horn, had brought to the house, all the loungers at the brewery who were in a condition to render aid, and some who were not. Among the last named was Dr. DeWolf, who staggered to the parlor, and boisterously demanded, "What's all this fuss about?"

He was in the first stage of drunkenness, and consequently more difficult to manage than he would have been an hour or two later, when he was usually brought home in a helpless condition.

Little Wolf made a desperate struggle to appear composed.

"O, nothing," she replied with the slightest possible quiver in her voice, "I saw Bloody Jim, that's all."

"That's enough," murmured the parent, sinking into a chair. The very mention of that name seemed to have completely sobered him. For, bloated and inebriated though he was, paternal love still lived, a green spot in the waste, which alcoholic fires had not yet burned out. He sat for a moment in silence, pressing his hand to his brow, and then, without appearing to notice his guests, abruptly left the room.

His daughter hastily excused herself, and followed him. Once outside the door, she drew a long breath, but shill choking down her mortified feelings, she bounded across the adjoining room, and meeting mammy, paused to give a few necessary orders.

"O, laws, honey," objected mammy, "I can't do nothing, and I can't get nobody else to do nothing. O, laws, honey, what if Bloody Jim should come? the men are half of 'em drunk; we'll all go to destruction together."

"O, fudge, mammy, Bloody Jim is shot; there's no danger. Come, now, you do as I tell you. I must go to my room a minute." and she flew into the hall and up the long staircase, as if she had wings, leaving mammy muttering to herself.

"Poor motherless child; sich as this is enough to make the honey stiddy; dear me, there's no stiddying her—clean gone mad, I declare.

CHAPTER IV.

More troubles—Who was Bloody Jim—his attempt at kidnapping Little Wolf—The cause of his hatred and of the terror he inspired.

uite like a little fury, Little Wolf burst into her own private apartment. Locking the door, she stopped suddenly and stamped, in a paroxism of grief and vexation.

"A drunkard's child!" she said scornfully "Disgrace!—I hate everybody!—I wish I'd shot myself!—I wish I was dead!—I wish father—" she did not finish the sentence; a loud knock at the door interrupted her.

"Who's there?" she asked.

"Me," said Sorrel Top.

"Go away," said her young mistress, imperatively.

"Mammy sent me," said Sorrel Top, "the Doctor is dying."

"O, God!" exclaimed Little Wolf, in an agony, "I have got my wish."

Trembling violently, she descended to the parlor and found her father stretched out on the sofa in an apoplectic fit. Wild and reckless as her words had been, Little Wolf would not for the world have seen her wishes fulfilled, and she was spared the remorse, which under the peculiar circumstances, her father's death would have occasioned.

Not having perceived how completely her information respecting Bloody Jim, had brought her father to his senses, she little dreamed that, while she was giving orders to mammy, he was in another part of the house inspecting the fastenings of the doors and shutters. Finding all secure, he returned to the parlor, in order to learn the particulars of her meeting with the being, whose very name had created such terror and dismay throughout the household. Observing young Sherman and Dr. Goodrich, he attempted to address them, but suddenly lost the power of speech.

It was many hours before Dr. Goodrich dared give any encouragement of his recovery to his almost distracted daughter. All night long, she watched, with the young physician and Edward, by his bedside.

Daddy and others, kept a bright look out for the enemy; but he had been too badly wounded, to attempt any further violence that night.

For reasons unknown to any except the parties concerned, Dr. DeWolf had, in the person of Bloody Jim, a revengeful and deadly enemy. He belonged to the Red River half-breeds. Several years before, while a company of his people were encamped in the vicinity of St. Paul, on the upper Mississippi, for the purpose of trafficking with the whites, Dr. DeWolf had paid them a chance visit.

As some alleviation to the insupportable loneliness, which the recent death of his wife occasioned, he accepted the invitation, of his friend and financial adviser, Squire Tinknor, to spend a few weeks with him, in the place above mentioned. This friend, was unfortunately, for a man of the Doctor's irregular habits, wealthy, wild and dissipated. Together they sought out and visited every place of amusement. Returning in company, from a horse race, one pleasant afternoon, they came in sight of the tented village, occupied by this demi-savage people. The novelty attracted the Doctor's attention and he insisted on alighting. "I must see what they've got in there," he said, pointing towards a tent from which the sound of music was heard.

Peeping slyly through a crack in the canvas, he saw the music-maker, a young girl, carelessly drawing a bow across the strings of a dilapitated violin, while her own very sweet voice, dropped out a gay stanza, in broken English. She was alone; so the Doctor boldly lifted the door and went in. Five, ten and fifteen minutes, his companion impatiently awaited his appearance, and at length, seriously disturbed at his absence, he shouted his name.

"Yes, yes," said the Doctor from within, "I'm coming."

"What detained you so deuced long," said his friend, when they were again on their way.

"O, playing the agreeable to a little fool, who was sawing away on a greasy fiddle," said the recent widower of forty-five, or more. He was careful not to mention that the "little fool," was beautifully formed, with ruddy checks, with dark, loving eyes and, being rather handsome himself, he had conceived the idea of captivating her silly heart. The story of the "Spider and the fly," fitly illustrates the means by which his purpose was afterwards accomplished.

His inamorata had innocently informed him that her protector, "brother Jim," spent the most of his time in the city, and the Doctor soon discovered that her savage looking relative frequently drank to excess. Under such favorable circumstances it required but little management to elude his vigilance. But, after the mischief was done, it was not so easy to escape a brother's revenge; especially as that brother's naturally ferocious nature had already acquired him the title of "Bloody Jim."

Not many months after the Doctor had returned home, his punishment began. He had just gone to the brewery to spend the evening, when his little daughter came running in.

"O, papa," she exclaimed, panting for breath, "I met such a great tall man out here—he wasn't an Injin—he talked a little like one, though. He had on a blue coat with bright buttons, and he had such awful eyes; O, dear!"

"What did he say, daughter?" said the Doctor, catching up his child, and pressing her to his heart.

"O, he said, 'what name?' I told him papa always called me daughter, mamma used to call me Little Wolf, and daddy and mammy called me honey, pet, dove, love, and every thing, I wish I had a regular name, papa—I mean to give orders to be called Little Wolf, for mamma knew best, and she called me so."

"Little Wolf it shall be," said obedient papa. "But what next did the man say?"

"O, he said 'papa's name.' I said Dr. DeWolf; than he made such a coarse noise in his throat, just like an Injin; I thought he wanted to get me, so I ran in here, quick."

Dr. DeWolf groaned in bitterness of spirit. He thought of Bloody Jim, and was tortured with vague fears of what might be. He did not spend that evening in drinking at the brewery. But it was the last night his child knew a father's care. After that, he did nothing but drink, drink. He had drank before, in spite of the pleadings of his wife, whom his conduct had brought to a premature grave, and, as trouble increased, he drank yet the more.

From the moment Bloody Jim saw the Doctor's beautiful child, he worked to gain possession of her and spared her father's life for a time. In pursuance of his plans he returned to the Red River country and gathered about him a set of lawless wretches, whom he had before led on to deeds of violence, and brought them to Chimney Rock. The gang secreted themselves among the towering bluffs in the vicinity, and, while watching for their prey, robbed all who came in their way. The frequent outrages committed on travellers, spread alarm throughout the surrounding country, and officers of justice were dispatched in search of the perpetrators. In this state of affairs, Bloody Jim, resolved at once to make a bold attempt to capture the coveted prize, and quit the country. Selecting for his purpose, the hour when the Doctor was in the habit of leaving home for the brewery, he lurked in ambush, until Little Wolf, who usually accompanied her father the most of the way, should return home alone, and, when the opportunity came, seized suddenly upon her, and, in spite of her struggles, bore her away towards the river. Leaping into a canoe, he threatened her with instant death, if she made the slightest resistance, and pushed out for the opposite shore. It was quite dusk when they landed on the other side. The poor frightened child, now for the first time broke the silence. She begged to be taken home again; but her captor only laughed horribly. "I Bloody Jim," said he; "how you like to be my wife?"

"O, take me home, I'm only a little girl," pleaded Little Wolf with quivering lip.

"You be big, by and by."

As he said this, an unseen hand laid him senseless on the beach. The same individual who dealt the blow, returned the child safely to her home, and leaving her to tell her own story, disappeared.

A chill of horror crept over the Doctor, when mammy, the next morning, related to him, her pet's adventure. He wrote immediately to his friend, Squire Tinknor, for advice. "Send the child away to boarding school," was the counsel given, and forthwith, the Doctor acted upon it.

Four years at school, and a winter of fashionable life in New York, transformed the little miss into an accomplished young lady.

When about to return home, she purchased a superb brace of pistols. At her request, Mr. Marston, the brother of the young lady whose hospitality she had shared, selected them for her. As he was one of those quiet, fatherly sort of young men, who naturally win the confidence, if not the love, of young ladies, she felt no hesitancy in opening her heart to him, on the subject of the pistols. She also related to him the story of her wonderful escape from Bloody Jim, and positively declared that if he ever came near her again, she intended to shoot him through the heart.

"But how would you reward the person who rescued you," said Mr. Marston, eagerly.

"O, I'd do anything in the world for him," she replied, "if I only knew who he was."

"Would you love him?"

"Yes, I'd love him."

Just then the peculiar expression of her sober friend's face startled her, and she added, with one of her merry laughs, "provided he was not a poky old bachelor."

The bachelor perceiving that his time had not yet come, allowed the little would-be Amazon to depart, without again making the slightest approach to the subject nearest his heart.

Her skill in the use of the silver-mounted weapons, excited great admiration in the breast of daddy, whom she usually allowed to assist in setting up a target, because she could not well get rid of him. His eulogies were, on the whole, rather gratifying to her vanity, for before his sight failed him, he had been no mean marksman.

Entirely unconscious of the dangerous resistance to be met, Bloody Jim made his second attempt on Little Wolf's freedom. She was returning from a long tedious walk, among the bluffs, at the close of a Spring day; her revolvers hid away in the holders, beneath her mantle, when suddenly, her enemy appeared in her path. Little Wolf stood for a moment as if spell-bound. Again she heard that horrid guttural laugh and saw those fiendish black eyes. "I got you now," was all he had time to say, before a ball from her pistol pierced him. She saw him fall, and fled. As nothing more was heard from him, or his men, it was generally supposed that Little Wolf had put an end to his life.

Like one risen from the dead, he appeared to her in his attack upon Dr. Goodrich and Edward Sherman, at the Pass. She knew he must have gone there to watch for her, and in saving others, she had also saved herself.

CHAPTER V.

Dr. Goodrich leaves with Daddy as Guide—daddy's war-like preparations—His testimony to the curse of strong drink—What they discovered on their way to the Village.

orning dawned fresh and beautiful. Dr. DeWolf's symptoms continued favorable. Refreshed and re-invigorated, after an hour's repose, the watchers gathered around the breakfast table with cheerful faces. Too young and mirthful to be very seriously affected, for any great length of time, by what had occured, Little Wolf joined with her guests in sipping coffee, and talking over the events of the preceeding evening with becoming composure.

During the meal, she slipped out to peep into the invalid's apartment. As she flitted from the room, the Doctor turned to Edward, who was gazing after her with an expression of intense admiration. "Ah, Ned," said he "your time has come."

"Fact, Doctor, I do feel queer. The little witch is too much for me."

"What can I do for you?" said the Doctor, with a professional nod.

"O, leave me here to-day, Doctor. Positively, I can't go back with you."

"What, Ned, allow me to fight my way alone, through a band of desperadoes?" said the Doctor, with feigned trepidation.

"Pshaw, Doctor! there's no danger; their chief is dead, or wounded, and they've fled long before this time."

Their young hostess broke in upon the conference with a smiling face. "Papa is resting very quietly," she said; "but I fear a return of his complaint. I shall feel anxious 'till you return, Doctor, if indeed, you still think you must go back this morning. Could not Mr. Sherman go for you? Daddy might show him the way."

Edward cast an imploring look towards the Doctor, who magnanimously sacrificed his own ease to the wishes of his friend. "It will be necessary, for me to go myself," he replied; "but give yourself no uneaseiness, Miss DeWolf. I do not think your father will have a second attack. I will accept your offer of a guide, and, with your permission will leave my friend, Mr. Sherman, as my proxy."

There was a slight dash of malice in the Doctor's last words, which Edward was too grateful to notice.

When the hour for setting out arrived, daddy appeared, armed and equipped, for what his fears had magnified into an exceedingly perilous journey. At sight him, of Little Wolf burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. His little, insignificant figure was girded by an old leathern belt, which was literally stuck full, of such weapons as he could hastily pick up, about the premises.

"Bless me! what do you expect to do with that outlandish outfit?" said his young mistress, when she was able to speak.

"Why 'fend myself, to be sure," replied the old man indignantly.

"O, fie, daddy," said she coaxingly; take off that heavy old belt. Why it makes you look so, and sweat so, too. Come, now, if you will, I'll lend you one of my pistols."

The old man's rising temper was quite mollified, at the proposal of Little Wolf; for to sport those pistols, had been an honor, to which he had hitherto aspired in vain.

"Well, now, I'll explain the case, honey," said he, attempting to approach her; "'tween you and me—"

"O, no, no," said Little Wolf, putting her fingers to her ears, and slipping our of his way.

"Bless her heart," said daddy, turning to the Doctor; "that's just the way she used to run away from me, when she was a little gal. 'Tween you and me, though, I was only going to tell her, how it wasn't the heft of this ere belt, that made me sweat so. It was sharpening these ere, on the old grindstone," and he drew forth a couple of large butcher knives, which glistened brightly in the sunbeams.

"O, those knives are just what mammy wants in the kitchen; I heard her say so," said Little Wolf appearing on the piazza with the pistols.

It required a vast amount of coaxing to bring the old man to terms, but finally a compromise was effected, and stowing a knife away in his coat pocket, he set out with one of the pistols, the Doctor being armed with the other.

Instead of the short cut of the night before, the Doctor chose the more circuitous route through the village; if a cluster of dilapidated houses might be dignified by that name. Dr. DeWolf's old brown residence, situated on a high hill, with its piazza stretching across the front, was the most imposing edifice to be seen. The remaining comfortless dwellings, mostly log cabins, and board shanties, with their broken windows and ragged inmates, who flocked out to gaze at the strangers, presented an appearance desolate in the extreme. Even the shadow cast by old Chimney Rock, after which the place was named, added a darker aspect to the scene. Chinmey Rock was an irregular old bluff, standing like a grim old castle by the riverside, its chimney-like summit, rocky and bare, the most conspicuous object in the landscape.

"What a God-forsaken place," exclaimed the doctor, involuntarily.

"'Tis so, this ere is a broke-down, one-horse concern, and that ain't the wust on't, nuther," said his companion; who was almost bursting with communicativeness.

"Well, what is the worst of it?" inquired the Doctor, as much to gratify the old man's weakness, as to satisfy his own curiosity.

"Why, Doctor, 'tween you an' me, there's awful doin's here. Ye see, sence that saloon was sot up in one end of the old brewery, all the men here have got to drinking, and 'tis astonishing how men will act, when they git soaked in liquor. I've heered temperance lecturers tell stories that would make your har stand on ind; that was when I was young, and there was a great excitement on the subject. I signed the pledge then, and I never broke my word on no account, or I expect I should be as bad as the rest of them here. I've had to stand out agin hard persuasions. They've tried to git me to take a glass of lager; sez they, 'lager won't hurt nobody;' sez I, 'it's hurt you.' You see, it don't require no argument, I can pint 'em to facts. Now, there's Prime Hawley; when he come here to live, he was a fine, stiddy young man; his wife was as pretty as a rose, and as happy as a lark. Somehow, Prime got to going to that saloon. Well, I gin him fair waning. Sez I, 'Prime, they'll get the halter on ye, if ye go there;' sez he 'I guess not, a glass of lager won't hurt nobody;' but now, sure as fate, he's the worst of 'em all. He's whipped and frightened his putty wife most to death, and she's got sickly now. Some say he's even jined Bloody Jim's gang. 'Tween—"

"Hark!" said the Doctor, suddenly interrupting the narrator.

Deep, agonizing groans were distinctly heard in the direction of the Pass, which they were nearing.

"O, murder, what's that?" shouted daddy; and he wheeled his horse about and gallopped homeward.

"Stop, come back here," shouted the Doctor, at the top of his voice.

The old man reluctantly obeyed. Approaching within a short distance of the Doctor, he motioned that individual towards him. "O, Doctor, 'twont do fur to go furder," said he; "'tween you and me, I've heern say, that's jist the way them robbers do, when they want to ketch anybody. There goes that yell agin. O, that ere is awful; we'll get ketched; it won't do fur to stay here."

Exasperated beyond endurance at the cowardice of his guide, the Doctor bade him remain where he was, while he went forward to reconnoitre. A short ride round the point of the bluff brought him directly upon the bleeding form of the desperado, who had attacked him the preceeding evening. Hailing daddy, he alighted and approached the apparently dying man.

"Prime Hawley, by gol!" exclaimed daddy, as he came up. "Why, Prime," said he, hopping briskly down from his saddle; "twixt you and me, how did you get in this ere fix?"

"Oh! oh!" groaned Prime, "take me home; I'm dying."

"I'll take him home if you say so, Doctor," said daddy, "his heft is nothing, and it's near by."

"Very well, I'll follow with the horses."

"I say, Prime," said the old man, when they had nearly reached the home of the sufferer, "tween you and me, aint had nothin' to do with Bloody Jim, have you!"

"Yes, I have; curse him!"

"He ain't nowhere 'bout here now, is he?"

"I expect not, oh! oh! I wish he was suffering as I am."

"O, Miss Hawley, 'tween you an' me, here's a sore trial fur you," said daddy to a pale-faced, delicate looking woman, who met him at the cabin door with looks of alarm.

Mrs. Hawley trembled violently, and her pale face grew a shade paler, but she asked no questions, as she led the way to the bed. Her silence, at first, impressed the Doctor with the idea that she was accessory to her husband's guilt, and he watched her closely. No tear dimmed her eye, no sigh escaped her, yet she seemed painfully alive to the agony which her miserable husband endured, while the Doctor was dressing his wound.

"Do you think he will live, Doctor?" she enquired in a sort of hopeless, melancholy tone, as Dr. Goodrich was about to leave.

"It is an exceedingly critical case," replied the Doctor, "he may possibly recover."

"'Tween you and me," said daddy, coming between them, "I'd like to know how Prime got that shot?"

Poor Prime shook his head imploringly towards the Doctor, who went to him, and quieted his apprehensions in a few whispered words. "I don't care," said Prime, "only it would kill her to know it."

As they were passing the old brewery, when they were again on their way, a man came out and accosted them. "Hello, old Roarer," said he, addressing daddy, "how is Dr. DeWolf, this morning"

The old man straightened himself in his saddle, and preserved a dignified silence.

With an oath, the man commanded him to speak, but daddy rode calmly on; his indignation got the better of his cautiousness.

"I'll pound you to a jelly," shouted the man after him,

"I'll risk it," said daddy addressing the Doctor.

Now daddy was not really a natural coward. But it cannot be denied that old age and extreme cautionsness had greatly moderated the courage which he possessed in his youth. "'Tween you and me," he continued, "that Hank Glutter is the meanest critter that ever trod shoe-leather. I've heern poor Mrs. Hawley plead with him not to sell Prime liquor, and I've heern him order her out of the saloon, and I've follered her hum, to see how she took it. Well, it was dreadful to see her goings on. She'd bounce on to the bed and groan there, then she'd bounce up and throw herself on the floor and groan there, and moan and holler right out; O, it seemed 'zif she never would get cool. She'd walk the floor, and wring her hands and take on awful. Them was the times when she was young and was full of grit—I've been watching her lately, and she's acted rather different. Ye see she was down to the brewery night afore last, I seen her coming hum and I knowed she was dreadful riled about something, so I kept my eyes on her; Lord! if she didn't drop, right down on her knees afore her bed, and let off all her feelins in a wonderful strange way. Seems 'zif she just talked to the Lord. When she riz up, she looked kinder quiet and resigned like, just as she did to-day; sez I to myself, if there's a God in heaven, he's heern that woman. I expected he would send fire down and burn that old brewery that very night, but there it stands and that old cuss, that hollered after me, is alive yet. 'Tween you and me, them things is kinder strange, now aint they, Doctor?"

"Rather strange," replied the Doctor dryly.

After riding a few moments in silence, daddy ventured to make still another attempt to open a conversation. "'Tween you and me, Doctor, was you acquainted with Miss Sherman?"

"What Miss Sherman?" said the Doctor in surprise.

"Why, young Edward's mother, down in the old Bay State. I ain't heern nothin' from the folks down thar since I left. I seed young Edward didn't know me, but I've dandled him on my knee many a time, when he was a leetle shaver. 'Tween you and me there was a gal working at Judge Sherman's that I had a liking fur, so Sundays, I used to go down thar sparking, I'd kinder like to know if that gal's spliced yet."

"What was her name?"

"Her name was Miss Orrecta Lippincott; they generally called her Recta, in the Judge's family."

"Recta is single yet, I saw her just before we left; but why did'nt you marry her?"

"'Tween you and me, Doctor, I was a fool, I've allers felt a kinder hankering after her. I can't get over them fust feelings I had, to this ere day. Is she handsome yit, Doctor?"

"Not very."

"Well, I used to tell her if she got old and grey, it wouldn't make no difference in my feelins," said the old man, rubbing his great, coarse hand across his eyes.

"'Tain't natur," he began after a moment's pause, "to keep our feelings shet in allers. Now, mammy is chuck full of spunk since she's married me, so I aint let on to nobody. Ye see, if she got hold on't, she'd never give me a minute's peace."

"Well, why didn't you marry Miss Lippincott?"

"'Tween you and me, Doctor, I got it into my head that she liked Sam Brown. Ye see, there was a man told me that he seed him and her kiss, right afore Judge Sherman's gate. Wall, this feller was allers puttin' me up to think that Orrecta was flirty like, and I was jest fool enough to believe him, so I jest packed up my duds and cum out West, with Dr. DeWolf. He'd been teasing me to cum 'long with him fur some time. Ye see, I'd allers been his gardener, ever since he was married. Miss DeWolf that's dead now, she sot heaps by me. 'Now, Philip,' says she—ye see my real name is Philip Roarer—'we can't get 'long without you, fur to milk the cow and make the garden'. I could see that her eyes was a leetle watery like, and I knew that she hated to cum off alone, with the Doctor, 'cause sometimes when he got a leetle tight, he didn't treat her nun too well. But the Doctor got 'long fust rate, when he fust got here; he didn't drink much and he made heaps of money, he and a crony of hisn, named Squire Tinknor. He lives in St. Paul now, and does the Doctor's business fur him yet. Ye see, Squire Tinknor can drink a barrel of liquor and not feel it, but the Doctor gets crazy enough, on nothing but lager. 'Tween you an' me, that old brewery in the holler has played the devil with the Doctor. I told Hank Glutter how it would be, when he fust sot up the saloon in't. Sez I, 'Mr. Glutter, I'd rather you'd chop this ere right hand of mine right off, than to place that are temptation afore Dr. DeWolf.' Sez he, 'What's the harm of a leetle beer?' Sez I, 'Ain't you goin' to sell nothin' else?' Sez he, 'O, I may keep a few liquors jest for variety.' Seems zif I should sink when he said that are, but I jest felt zif I couldn't gin up, so I let right into him. It didn't do no kinder good though. Sez he, 'If I don't sell it somebody else will, and I might as will make money on it as anybody.' Well, the long and short of it is, Doctor, he has got rich on't and now, 'tween you and me, he's kinder hanging 'round the honey, but I guess he'll git his walkin' papers afore long; ye see, the honey she's alive, every inch on her."

CHAPTER VI.

The Saloon Keeper—Comforting Reflections—The Unwelcome Call—Diabolical Plotting.

wearing vengeance on daddy, who had treated him with such unqualified contempt, Hank Glutter entered his saloon. He was a young man of about thirty years of age, rather below medium height. His form was well developed, his complexion light, and his hair curled in luxuriant ringlets. He was exceedingly vain of his appearance, and, when in good humor, caressed his whiskers incessantly. He was of a respectable family and his education was liberal, and yet he was nothing more than a smooth-tongued, hard-hearted, revengeful villain.

He had aspired to Little Wolf's hand, but, on making some unmistakable advances to that lady, he was promptly repelled.

The supreme contempt with which she invariably treated him exasperated him to such a degree, that he conceived the diabolical project of placing her in the power of Bloody Jim, with whom he had already had some secret dealings.

At his suggestion, Bloody Jim made overtures to Prime Hawley to assist in the undertaking. Prime, being in exceedingly indigent circumstances, could not resist the tempting reward offered.

The plan to capture Little Wolf, and convey her across the river, in her own skiff, to a point, where, having in mind his defeat on a former occasion, he had stationed a guard, was well laid, but miscarried, as we have already seen.

Bloody Jim was but slightly wounded, and he soon recovered sufficiently to seek a place of safety, leaving Prime Hawley, as he supposed, dead.

Hank Glutter could gather no satisfactory information from the intoxicated set, who that night returned from Dr. DeWolf's, and, as we have seen, daddy was disinclined to relieve his suspense; therefore, he resolved to go in person to the Doctor's, and ascertain, if possible, the precise position of affairs.

By way of smoothing his ruffled plumes, he hastily swallowed a stimulating draught, and very soon a more complacent expression settled upon his countenance.

Approaching a large mirror, he bestowed a momentary attention upon his dress, but lingered lovingly over his glossy ringlets. "Miss DeWolf was a fool to turn the cold shoulder to me," said he to himself, as he gave the finishing touch to his soft flaxen hair. "I wonder if Bloody Jim really got her. If he has, wouldn't she be glad to fly to my arms, though."

These comforting reflections were entirely dispelled, when a few moments afterwards, he was ushered into the parlor at Dr. DeWolf's, and in utter astonishment, beheld Little Wolf on apparently intimate terms with the handsome stranger. She was holding an earnest conversation with Edward concerning her father, and did not at first notice the presence of the intruder, who was, by this time, heartily wishing himself behind his bar again. But, contrary to his expectations, the young lady granted him a gracious reception, and introducing him to Mr. Sherman, almost immediately excused herself to attend upon the invalid.

The young men left alone entered into conversation, and, so well did Hank Glutter conceal his true character, that Edward was quite well pleased with his appearance, and at the close of the interview, accepted a polite invitation to accompany Hank to his saloon, and when there, was easily persuaded to take a glass of lager beer. The day was hot and the lager of the finest quality, so before he left, he drank several glasses more, and while thus engaged, confided to his entertainer the whole story of his adventure with Bloody Jim.

"But what became of the men who were shot," said Hank, burning with impatience to learn the fate of his accomplices.

"O, we left the dead to bury their dead, Mr. Glutter. Miss DeWolf is confident there is a gang of the ruffians. I intend to make it my business to look after them a little."

"So do I," said Hank, and as soon as Mr. Sherman was gone, he proceeded to put his dangerous threat into execution, by calling upon Mrs. Hawley.

"Good morning, Mrs. Hawley," said he in his blandest tone, as she slowly approached the open door, in answer to his gentle tap. "Is Prime at home?"

He was about to enter, but Mrs. Hawley quietly motioned him back, and herself stepped outside, "Mr. Hawley is very ill," said she, "and unable to see company."

"May I not be allowed to see him a moment?"

"No, sir."

"Just for a moment," he persisted, "I am really anxious to see Prime."

"No, sir; his life might be the forfeit."

"Now, really, Mrs. Hawley—"

"Mr. Glutter," said she, interrupting him, "have you forgotten your conduct to me the last time we met?" and a burning spot came to her cheeks, and scathing words dropped from her lips. "You know too well, sir, that my home is desolate, my heart is broken, and my husband is murdered, all through the influence of your cursed business. I thought I would treat you politely, Mr. Glutter, but I cannot. God forgive me. Leave me; the very sight of you makes me desperate. Leave me, I say, if you would not again have the curse of a drunkard's wife fall upon your blackened soul."

"What a perfect she-devil you are," said Hank, now throwing off all restraint. "I mean to see Prime, spite of you."

"Try it, if you dare," said she, and her eyes flashed and sparkled with a desperate purpose, as she planted herself in the door.

Just then, Dr. Goodrich and daddy, on their return trip, were seen approaching.

"You'll repent this," said her persecutor with an oath, and immediately withdrew.

He went directly to the cove where Little Wolf's boat was usually moored. It was not there, and he took courage.

"Bloody Jim could not be hurt much," he soliloquized in an undertone, "or he couldn't have taken the boat away. I shall manage that girl yet, and that Sherman, too, if he don't take care of himself. They'll be lovers, I see that plainly enough. So much the better; moonlight walks will follow, as a matter of course. Now we'll see who will beat in this game."

CHAPTER VII.

Music—The Warning—Preparations For Winter Interrupted—The Welcome Boat.

hree months had passed, and during that time, Dr. DeWolf had entirely recovered his health. Prime Hawley was up and doing, following with renewed vigor his former pursuits; threats and entreaties had wrung from him a half-hearted confession, but, out of pity for his wife, the affair was hushed up, and he was saved from merited punishment.

Bloody Jim had not been seen or heard of, and he alone carried the secret of Hank Glutter's criminal designs.

Edward Sherman had become an almost daily visitor at Dr. DeWolf's, and while his friend Dr. Goodrich was establishing himself in his profession at Pendleton, he was gradually gaining a more certain hold, on the affections of Little Wolf.

Our heroine was still, to all appearance, the same little bundle of contradictions that she had always been.

"There, I'm always sure to do the very thing I say I will not do," she said to herself half pettishly, as she opened her piano with a jerk, and ran her fingers carelessly, over the keys, one fine October day.

Very soon she was quite absorbed, in practicing a difficult piece of music, which her lover had, heretofore, recommended in vain.

"O, Miss DeWolf, there's a squaw here that wants to see you," said Sorrel Top, bursting suddenly into the room.

"O, she's begging, no doubt. Give her what she wants, Sorrel Top, I'm engaged just now," and Little Wolf went on with her music.

"There, I told you so. I knowed Miss DeWolf wouldn't have nothing to do with squaws, or injins, nor nothing else that's low," exclaimed Sorrel Top, loud enough to be heard by her young mistress, who always made it a point to do the very thing it was expected she would not do.

The dumpy little copper-colored creature, enveloped in an Indian blanket, before whom Sorrel Top had drawn herself up with a triumphant toss of the head, was just making a second plea, when Little Wolf made her appearance.

"I want to hear music, do tell the lady I want to hear music," she said in very good English.

"O, if that's what you want, come this way," said Little Wolf, leading on to the parlor.

The Indian followed, pattering along in her soft moccasins, leaving Sorrel Top quite crest fallen.

"Now here is where the music comes from," said Little Wolf, placing her hand upon the instrument, and following her piece of information with a lively air.

"Now, how do you like that?"

"It is very pretty; may I try to make music?"

"Certainly," said Little Wolf, vacating her seat with infinite condescention. The maiden drew her blanket more closely around her, and made it fast. Her exceedingly small and finely formed hands were now at liberty, and, instead of the discordant notes which her auditor fully expected, a flood of harmonious sounds burst upon her ear.

"What does this mean?" exclaimed Little Wolf in utter astonishment, when the strains had ceased.

The performer bent upon her a long searching look, and enquired, "Are you Miss De Wolf?"

"I am."

The strange visitor immediately rose and approached the door.

"There! stop; who are you?" demanded Little Wolf, vehemently.

"Hush! I was going to bolt the door," and she deliberately turned the key in the lock. "I'm your friend, young lady, and I'm come to warn you of impending danger."

Little Wolf slightly paled, but she stood firm awaiting further developments.

"Too much time has been wasted already," she began, "Bloody Jim is here, at Chimney Rock, waiting for the first favorable moment to kidnap you, and murder your servants, and set fire to your home. He is now more daring and reckless than ever. Three times you have thwarted him, and he still carries the scars he has received at your hands. This is the day, and, for ought I know, the very hour, that he designs to fall upon you. It was to be when your father was helplessly intoxicated, and yourself entirely off your guard. I think he has two or three accomplices living in this place. I love Bloody Jim, steeped in crime as he is, and I beg of you, if it shall be possible for you to save yourself without taking his life, you will do so. I have now done all I can for you; good bye."

"There, you shall not go," exclaimed Little Wolf, springing towards her, "you must stay and assist me."

"I can do nothing more for you, Miss De Wolf, indeed, I cannot. I have told you all I know. My journey has been exceedingly painful and perilous, and I am completely exhausted. If I am discovered, I must inevitably lose my life. I do not dread death, but if alive, and you should be captured, I might possibly render you some assistance. Now you must not detain me."

"Well, but who are you," persisted Little Wolf, "that you are able to give me all this information, and yet cannot give me any aid?"

"I can, in all probability, aid you more by going than by remaining," said the other hurriedly. "My skin is stained, my clothes are stuffed to give me this fleshy appearance, but you will recognize me if we meet again. My name is Antoinette Le Claire. Now I must go. The good Lord help you," and she waddled off, in precise imitation of a fat old squaw.

"Now I must be brave," thought Little Wolf, pressing her hand on her brow, while she tried to think what plan to pursue.

Her first thought was for her father's safety, who was, as usual, at the brewery, where he had gone soon after dinner, and as he had not been there long, she hoped he was not, as yet, intoxicated.

Stepping to the door, she hailed daddy, who was busy storing away some vegetables in the cellar, for winter use. "See here, daddy, I want you to go down to the brewery as quick as you can, and tell father—well, tell him I'm sick, and want to see him right away."

"'Tween you and me, honey,"—

"O, go, this minute, daddy," and she shut the door in his face, and proceeded to the kitchen, where she found mammy quietly smoking her pipe in the corner.

"O, mammy, where is Sorrel Top?" said she.

"Sorrel Top, why she's picking grapes for that are jelly you wanted made. I'm going to help her when I git rested, and slick up a leetle."

"No, mammy, you must help me. Bloody Jim is around here somewhere, and he's going to try to kill us all and burn the house. I've just sent daddy for father, and you had better call Sorrel Top. I'll get my pistols, and we'll secure the house."

"O, laws a mercy! how did you find it out, honey?"

"Wait 'till we are safe and I'll tell you."

"O, honey, did you tell daddy?"

"No."

"O, I'm awful glad, he'd be so flustrated you know."

"Yes, I know; now don't you get flustrated, and let it out quite yet, you had better tell Sorrel Top, though."

Sorrel Top was duly informed, and they all set to work, and had made what arrangements for their safety they could, when daddy returned.

"'Tween you and me, Honey, the Doctor can't come."

Little Wolf knew, by the expression on the old servant's face, why her father could not come, and she went up close to him, and whispered, "Is he very bad, daddy?"

"O yes, pet, 'tween you and me, he's dead drunk."

A shiver ran through the daughter at this intelligence, and she now felt strong suspicions that Hank Glutter was implicated in her enemy's plot, and the condition of her father indicated that the crisis was near at hand.

"Well, daddy, cannot you get him some way?" she enquired, after a moment's thought, "can't you get some of the men to help you?"

"There ain't nobody there but Hank Glutter."

"Well, won't he assist you?"

"Bless your heart, honey, no—he ordered me off when I was there just now, and said things it wouldn't do for you to hear, no how."

"If you should write him a little billet and ask him, may be he would," suggested mammy.

The note was speedily dispatched, and ran thus:—

"Will Mr. Glutter do Miss DeWolf the favor to assist the bearer, in bringing her father home."

"Now, honey, 'tween you and me," said daddy, who soon after returned in high displeasure, "that Hank Glutter can lie as fast as a hoss can trot. He turned red clar up to his har, when he read your billet, and sez he to me, 'go tell Miss DeWolf that I've sprained my right arm, and can't lift a pound.'"

"The Lord be praised, there's a steamer coming," exclaimed Little Wolf.

All eyes were instantly turned in the direction of the river, and several miles away, the smoke bursting from the tall pipes of a steamboat, and curling towards the clouds, was distinctly visible.

"Now, daddy, you must take that boat and carry a letter to—to Mr. Sherman, and we'll see if we can't outwit Mr. Glutter."

"O, but, honey, 'tween you and me, them 'taters and things must be got in. What if we should have a frost to-night, and spile 'em. Hank will send the Doctor home when it's time to lock up, and it don't make much difference whether he's here or there."

"Yes, it does, daddy, and I'm bound to have father home, now I've set out, so you run to the landing, and give the signal."

"Hurry him up, mammy," she whispered to her housekeeper, and immediately went to her writing desk.

"Laws, how can I leave them are taters, mammy?" he said, appealing to his better-half.

"Laws, you can git back in time to kiver 'em up; you'll better let 'em spile and keep on the right side of the pet. Likely she's got something particular she wants to say to Mr. Sherman; girls is up to sich things. There, now, you'd better leave, that are boat is heaving in sight."

Chimney Rock was one of those insignificant points, on the Upper Mississippi, where steamers seldom had occasion to land, and it became necessary to hoist a signal, when any of the inhabitants wished to take passage on a boat from that place.

Daddy vigorously waved his red flag to and fro, and the result was, in ten minutes, he had embarked on board the steamer "Golden Era," with Little Wolf's communication stowed safely away in his pocket.

CHAPTER VIII.

The Love-Letter—Discussion—A quick Ride—Too Late—Violence and death.

r. Goodrich's cosey office, situated on the corner of Second and Centre Streets, in the village of Pendleton, was a convenient lounging place for Edward Sherman, and it so happened that on the very day that Little Wolf had dispatched her messenger, he had repaired thither to read his newspapers and letters, smoke cigars, and indulge in the comfort which a confidential chat with a friend, generally affords to a companionable mind.

"See here, Doctor," said he, depositing the bundle of mail matter on the office table, and seating himself in an arm-chair beside it.

"Anything for me?" said the Doctor, who was busy arranging some papers.

"A letter from her," said Edward, with slow, droll emphasis.

"Really, Ned, that is decidedly cool. How long do you propose to make me wait for it?"

"Help yourself, Doctor. It's there among the papers," said Edward, lighting a cigar.

Occasionally, Edward glanced over the top of his newspaper to observe the animated countenance of his friend, as he perused the lines traced by the hand of love.

Having thus marked his progress to the end, he enquired, "Now, Doctor, what says my little sister?"

"She says, Ned, 'this is now the middle of Autumn.'"

"O, is that all?"

"Well, the next in order is,'and mother is expecting Edward home soon.'"

"That is just what I have been expecting to hear for a week past, Doctor. You know I have made my success with Miss De Wolf the condition on which I should be induced to locate here. Well, I'm pretty sure of her, and I have at length determined to hang out my shingle, and go to work. I can see no way but to persuade mother and Louise to come out here and live with us."

"Then, you are really engaged to Miss De Wolf, Ned?"

"Why, no, not exactly. I doubt whether we shall ever, really, be formally engaged. I wouldn't be surprised if she told me, an hour before our marriage, that she didn't intend to take me; but then, I know she will. Poor old daddy has frequently volunteered the information that the Pet will never marry a man, who has been guilty of drinking a glass of lager beer. He says she is bitterly opposed to anything that will 'toxicate, but I suspect the experience she has had with her father has put those ultra notions into her head."

"No wonder, Ned; the fact that there are hundreds of such cases as Dr. De Wolf's has influenced my opinion on the subject to a greater extent, perhaps, than any other, and really, I'm glad Miss De Wolf favors total abstinence; I hope she will convert you."

"Never, my friend. I shall always adhere to the principle that a man is capable of controlling his appetite, within the bounds of reason. Let a man but will to drink moderately, and he can."

"But, Ned, a person seldom wills to drink moderately, but ends by willing to drink immoderately. Now in such cases what becomes of your theory?"

"The fact is, Doctor, you and I have so often discussed the subject, that I believe there is nothing new left to be said, on either side. I wish Hank Glutter was here, and he would show you in five minutes, why we should not deprive ourselves of the gifts of Providence, simply because others have abused them."

"I pity a drunkard, Ned," said the Doctor, very quietly, "but I despise a drunkard-maker, and the less conversation I have with one of that class, the better."

The color quickly mounted to Edward's face, but a loud knock at the door suspended his reply.

"Come in," said the Doctor, and in stalked daddy.

"'Tween you and me, Mr. Sherman," said he, approaching Edward, "the honey has sent you a letter; here it is."

Edward received the letter with a mixture of surprise and pleasure, which he could not conceal.

Unfolding it with nervous haste, he ran his eye over the few brief lines. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed, starting to his feet, "Bloody Jim is at Chimney Rock again."

Daddy sprang forward, with dilated eyes and open mouth, and fastened his grip upon Edward, who comprehended in an instant why the old man had not been apprized of the nature of his errand, and he resolved on returning him to his former state of blissful ignorance.

"Let me see; have I made a mistake?" said he, again looking over the letter, "Bloody Jim is not at Chimney-Rock, after all."

"'Tween you and me, what made you think he was?" said daddy, whose panic began to subside.

"O, I saw his name, and took it for granted he was there. I did not quite make out what was said."

"The billet was writ in a hurry, Mr. Sherman; you must excuse it. The honey is the most distinctest writer I knows on. She got a wonderful edication down thar, in New York; 'tween—

"Miss DeWolf wants me to go to Chimney Rock immediately," said Edward, arresting the words on the lips of his garrulous visitor.

"Sartain, I know'd it."

"The Doctor will go with us, and I want you to go to Frink's stable and order the horses; we will be ready by the time you come round."

"I'll dew it."

"Now in the name of wonder, what does all this mean?" exclaimed the Doctor, as daddy slammed the door behind him.

Edward handed him Little Wolf's letter, which merely stated that Bloody Jim was at Chimney Rock, and she was momentarily expecting violence at his hands.

No time was lost in vain conjectures; a constable was engaged, and the friends had already buckled on their armor, which consisted of pistols and bowie knives, when daddy returned with their horses. They were fleet-footed animals, and he was himself well mounted.

Not long were the horsemen in reaching the well-known "Pass," and as they emerged from the trees, and approached the house, no indication of the threatened hostilities appeared. But still they dashed along over the fallen leaves and faded turf, and drew up in front of Dr. De Wolf's.

All was quiet about the old brown house. They dismounted and approached the door, daddy leading the way, with the air of a conqueror. He saw in imagination his young mistress triumphing over the discomfited Hank Glutter, and he greatly gloried in the anticipated conquest.

His companions were secretly uneasy at the unusual stillness which reigned around, and when he attempted to open the front door, and it resisted his efforts, Edward anxiously stepped forward and knocked loudly and hurriedly.

"Never mind," said the old man complacently, "I guess them women folks have gone out. I'll just step around the back way, and let you in."

The gentlemen followed him without ceremony into the kitchen, and the first object that met their horrified sight, was mammy, stretched lifeless on the floor.

It would be impossible to describe the grief and terror which took possession of daddy, or the agony of doubt which sent Edward like a madman through the house. As he flung open the door of a spacious sleeping apartment on the second floor, clouds of smoke and flame drove him back. A pile of light bedding and other inflammable articles had been set on fire near the centre of the room, but the fire had not, as yet, communicated itself to the building, and Edward, finding water near by, soon succeeded in extinguishing the flames.

While he was thus engaged, Sorrel Top emerged from an adjoining chamber, trembling so as to be scarcely able to stand.

"Where is Miss De Wolf?" exclaimed Edward.

"O, they've carried her off; oh! oh! oh!"—and a long shudder shook her frame.

"Sorrel Top," said Edward, assuming calmness in order to allay her fears, "there is no immediate danger, and I want you to tell me as distinctly as you can, all that has occurred."

"O, Mr. Sherman, Bloody Jim has been here. I expect it was he, and we were watching for him, too, but we didn't any of us see him come. I was watching on the east side of the house, and mammy was watching in the kitchen, and I could see Miss De Wolf through the long hall, standing right by that window there, looking out, and Bloody Jim came up behind her sly, and catched her before she saw him at all. She screeched out, and tried to get away, but he held her tight, and hollered, 'come on, boys.' and two men run right in, and they tied her hands, and stopped her mouth, and just strapped a big blanket around her, and carried her off, and I ran and hid, for I thought they'd kill me if they saw me."

"How long since they were here?" said Edward, eagerly.

"O, it's only a little while, and may be you can ketch 'em," said Sorrel Top, brightening up a little.

Sorrel Top's reply infused a bright ray of hope into Edward's highly wrought feelings, and, accompanied by his friends, he immediately started in pursuit.

Just outside the house they met Mrs. Hawley, who informed them, that sometime before she had seen three men going towards the brewery. To the brewery they quickly went. The wily proprietor denied having seen the fugitives, and feigned excessive emotion when informed of their inhuman deeds.

"In what direction would you advise us to search, Mr. Glutter?" said Edward.

"O, you had better strike off among the bluffs. They could hardly take the river by daylight without being discovered. Probably they will reach some point above here after dark, and cross to the other side under cover of night. I will dispatch a messenger to Pendleton for aid. My men, unfortunately, are gone after grain, and I am uncertain when they will return. Dr. DeWolf, I am sorry to say, is perfectly helpless to-day. While I was out a few minutes he helped himself too freely."

Hank Glutter faithfully performed his promises. The same evening officers of justice were sent out from Pendleton, and a party of young men volunteered their services, and like Edward and the Doctor, travelled many miles. But all in vain, Bloody Jim had escaped with his prize.

CHAPTER IX.

Bloody Jim's Advantages—The Fainting Captive—The Tragic Quarrel—Outwitted at Last—The Refuge.

is intimate acquaintance with the wild region of country, over which he directed his course, gave Bloody Jim an immense advantage over his pursuers.

While they were floundering in treacherous sloughs, or climbing unknown heights, he was riding safely and swiftly along in company with his prisoner and the two villians, whom Sorrel Top described as having assisted in kidnapping her mistress.

Little Wolf was so narrowly watched by the trio that escape seemed impossible. As each hour bore her farther from civilization, and nearer to the Red River country, her heart sank within her.

She was compelled to pursue her journey a large portion of each night, and when her captors stopped for rest and refreshment, she was either lashed to a tree, or bound, so as to be unable to rest with the slightest ease or comfort.

Under such rigorous treatment her strength rapidly declined, and, at the close of the third day, entirely failed. They had reached the foot of a beautiful wooded bluff at a bend in the Mississippi, where the town of St. Cloud has since been located. Here they were suddenly brought to a stand; the poor jaded captive had fainted.

Bloody Jim saw her reeling in her saddle and instantly threw his brawny arm around her frail form. Dismounting, and laying his unconscious burden on a bed of dry leaves, which the wind had gathered under a huge oak, he produced from his knapsack a bottle of brandy, and proceeded to wet her face, and force a few drops into her mouth.

At the sight of the long-concealed bottle, his men chuckled with delight, and as soon as Little Wolf exhibited signs of returning life, they requested a "treat."

Bloody Jim, now deeming himself beyond pursuit for one night at least, acceded to their wishes, and also himself indulged in his favorite beverage.

Little Wolf gathered from their conversation and movements that they designed to camp for the night at their present station, and their occasional rude allusions to herself filled her with terror. She struggled to throw off the oppressive faintness which she felt a second time stealing upon her, but, when she saw Bloody Jim approaching her, the horrors of her situation completely overcame her, and she again swooned.

"Ugh!" grunted the disappointed savage, giving her inanimate form a rude kick.

"She wake before morning," suggested one of his comrades encouragingly, as he passed him the precious bottle.

Bloody Jim took it, put it to his lips, drained it dry, and handed it back.

This was too much for his already half drunk consoler; he angrily flung the empty bottle into Bloody Jim's face, and in retaliation received in a twinkling his death stab.

Half breed No. 3 observed the transaction with evident satisfaction. He applauded the murderer and cajoled him into furnishing from, the bowels of his knapsack a fresh supply of the poisonous liquor.

After gratifying their rum appetite to the full, the athletic men gradually became as helpless as infants, and, sinking on the ground as the darkness gathered around them, they fell into heavy sleep.

In about an hour Little Wolf partially recovered, but, supposing herself to be closely guarded, and still suffering from extreme lassitude, she closed her eyes, and gradually fell into profound slumber.

The hours glided on. The waning moon looked sadly in through the branches of the old oaks upon the sleepers. There lay the murdered man with his upturned, ghastly face; scattered near him were the fragments of the broken bottle. Yet a little further on were the prostrate forms of his guilty fellows, and still beyond reclined the innocent one.

There was a rustling among the leaves and light footsteps drew near, and Antoinette Le Clare gazed upon the scene. She was still habited in her Indian costume. Softly approaching Little Wolf she as softly awoke her.

Little Wolf looked up wildly into the dark face that bent over her and recognized it in a moment. Antoinette silently assisted her to rise, undid her fetters, and taking her hand, noiselessly led her from the spot.

The staggering gait of her companion disclosed to Antoinette her extreme weakness hoping to revive her drooping energies she whispered "Courage a little longer, Miss de Wolf, and you are safe."

"I've courage enough to put an end to them," said Little Wolf, with a momentary flash of her wonted spirit, "but I'm so dizzy."

"Well, rest here while I bring my pony."

"No, I'll go with you," and by an act of the will Little Wolf forced herself along until they reached the shaggy little Indian pony on the glade.

This they both mounted, Little Wolf still struggling bravely with her increasing illness. But it was all in vain; a violent fever was seizing upon her. She was alternately distressed with hot flashes and cold chills, and worse still, her mind began to wander.

Antoinette was in deep distress. Her plan to fly for protection to the nearest settlement was completely frustrated. It was too far; she could not hope to reach it in safety. But, thinking she might possibly discover a place of refuge in some other direction, she turned her horse and dashed off she knew not whither.

Having rode on for several miles over prairie and oak openings, determining to put all possible distance between herself and Bloody Jim, a most welcome sight met her view.

It was a log cabin standing on an eminence, comfortable in appearance and snugly embosomed in a grove of trees.

As there was no enclosure around it, she rode close to the door, and, without dismounting; knocked loudly with her riding whip.

An echo was her only reply. The same results followed repeated attempts to obtain a hearing, and she came to the conclusion that the house was either unoccupied, or the inmates were insensible to noise. The former proved to be the case, and what was more unpleasant, the door was firmly fastened.

Letting the invalid—whom she had supported partly by her arm and partly by fastening her blanket around both—slide softly to the ground, Antoinette dismounted and effected an entrance through a small window. There was but one room in the dwelling, and this was scantily furnished. A bed, a cook-stove, a flour barrel and a chest occupied each a corner.

On a couple of hooks that were fastened to a beam overhead rested a rifle, and from a peg at the side was suspended a violin. A hat, an old pair of boots, pushed partly under the bed, and several other articles of men's wearing apparel lying about the room, proclaimed the abode of a single man.

The door was secured within by a wooden bar, which Antoinette speedily removed, and, by extraordinary exertions on the part of her friend, Little Wolf was removed to a comfortable couch in the cabin.

CHAPTER X.

The Kidnapper's Surprise—On the Wrong Track—Bloody Jim's Capture—The Power of Habit—Dispair—The Rotten Plank.

t was late on the following morning when Bloody Jim awoke. He rubbed his eyes and scratched his head with a vacant stare, for he did not at first remember where he was. When the objects by which he was surrounded had sufficiently refreshed his memory he began to look about for his prisoner and, behold, she was nowhere to be seen.

He ground his teeth with rage. "Ketchum," he said, giving his still snoring companion a tremendous shake, "wake up, that d——d gal is gone."

"Gone!" exclaimed Ketchum, starting up and beating around among the bushes, "she aint gone far I reckon."

"She has too," said Bloody Jim, following his exclamation with an oath.

"How do you know, Jim?"

"That horse she's taken, Ketchum, will travel like lightning."

Now it so happened that the animal alluded to had broken loose during the night, and, as Bloody Jim had appropriated his services without consulting his master, who was an honest farmer living in the vicinity of St. Paul, the sagacious beast deliberately set out to return to his former comfortable quarters.

The natural conclusion of the villains was that Little Wolf had fled on their missing horse, and so when they had succeeded in finding his track they followed it. Mile after mile of their former route was retraced. Hour after hour they plodded on, scarcely stopping to give their beasts necessary rest until the night overtook them, and then were only delayed for a short time. They rose with the moon, and, in a few hours actually came in sight of the deserter. He was drinking at the river's brink within sound of the roar of St. Anthony's Falls. Perceiving his pursuers approaching, the noble beast threw up his head, gave a loud snort and darted off.

Bloody Jim gave an impatient grunt, but Ketchum clapped his hands with delight. "Golly: the gal must be near here," said he.

"No, me think she got to the tavern on yonder hill. We must find a hiding place, Ketchum, and me have the gal yet, or the constable have me."

Bloody Jim little thought when he made his boast that he would be in the power of the constable before night, but so it was. The riderless horse having been seen at St. Anthony's, suspicions were aroused, a search was instituted, and the result was the capture of the imprudent and high-handed outlaw.

To all questions put to him concerning Little Wolf, he had but one answer, "me not know."

Threats and bribes elicited nothing more and it was generally supposed that he had murdered her. But as the whole affair was shrouded in mystery, there was some few inclined to the opinion, that she was secreted in some place, from which the protracted absence of Bloody Jim would give her an opportunity to escape. Among the last named was Dr. Goodrich and Edward Sherman.

The Doctor was not at the examination of the prisoner, and Edward hastened to inform him of the result. He was at his old haunt, and, as usual, under the influence of stimulus when Edward entered.

"No satisfactory information could be obtained from the old scoundrel," said he, throwing himself upon a lounge.

The events of the past few days had worn upon him, and his anxious look did not escape Hank Glutter, who turned away to conceal his exultation.

"Poor fellow, he too mourns for her," thought Edward, mistaking his movement for one of grief.

After a moment's silence, Hank poured out something from the bar. "Drink this, Sherman," said he, passing it to Edward, "I see you are tired; it will strengthen you."

Since Edward's entrance, Dr. DeWolf had sat gazing at him fixedly. The bleared, dull light of his eyes gave place to a keen, wild expression as Edward accepted the proffered glass.

"Mr. Sherman," said he, in an unusually strong voice, "do you see what is in that cup?"

"Why, yes, doctor; it is wine."

"Yes, surely it is wine," replied the other "and your inexperienced eye sees nothing more than a harmless beverage; neither did this bleared and bloated old man see more than that in his wine years ago. Ah! could he have seen in his youth the vision in his cup which he now sees in that which you now hold to your lips, he might have been saved from a life of disgrace and ruin. The chain which once bound me was as light as that which now binds you."

"No chain binds me," said Edward proudly. "I need not drink this unless I choose."

"It seems but yesterday, Edward Sherman since I addressed similar language to your father, and well do I remember his arguments to induce me to abandon every beverage that could intoxicate. I recollect how I loathed the drunkard, as you do me, and how my proud heart rebelled at the humiliating thought that habit would ever become too strong to be controlled by my will; but boastings were vain; the time will shortly come when I shall sink into a drunkard's hell—and you, poor Hank, will be there too," he continued, turning to Hank Glutter, "you will be sent down to wait upon your customers. You must stand behind your flaming bar and pour out the liquid fire and brimstone for such as I; but, never mind, the traffic will enrich you with showers of molten gold. No drop from God's pure fountain to cool your parched tongue. One long eternal blaze shall light up your saloon. Drunken devils reeling to and fro—Oh! I see them now"—and the doctor gave, a fearful shriek and fell upon the floor.

He raved frightfully for hours, but in an interval of calmness was removed to his desolate home.

The loss of his wife had entirely unfitted daddy for active service, and Sorrel Top, on account of her youth and inexperience, was an inefficient nurse: consequently Mrs. Hawley's services were engaged. Edward also bestowed every attention in his power, but the delirium tremens had fixed upon his aged friend and his horrid imaginings continued for days.

It was impossible for Edward, who was the soul of humanity, to witness unmoved the doctor's terrible agony, and, at such seasons, he would invariably resolve that he would put forth an effort to reclaim him. "I will reason with him and show him the folly of his course," said he to himself.

When the invalid was able to bear conversation, Edward approached him on the subject as delicately as possible.

"Dr.," said he, "I am young to advise one like you, but if you would permit me, I think I could prescribe a remedy for your disease, and one that would ensure you a hale, hearty old age."

"I know what you would say, Edward," replied the Dr., rising upon his elbow, "but I cannot do it. I cannot let drink alone. I must drink if it kills me. Times without number I have forsworn it, and I will never add another broken vow to my perjured soul. If you would be useful in the cause of temperance, Edward, if you would save such as I, and, what is more important, if you would save the young, then use all your influence to stop the liquor traffic."

"Oh, I'm not at all ultra," said Edward, somewhat embarrassed, "I have never given the subject which you mention much thought."

"Then it is high time you should," said the Dr., warming up with a look of lofty enthusiasm, "I am sober now, Edward, and I may never be in my right mind again. I must drink to-day, I know I can get it, and I will have it; I suppose you would say, 'if he will go to the devil, let him go;' but I say, if there was no drink to be had, if it were not sold here, if it were not sold elsewhere, I could not get it, and I should be saved. A law prohibiting the sale of intoxicating drinks is what is most needed. I know these sentiments coming from one like me sound strangely, but, Edward, such a law enforced in my native state would have saved me, and I know it. Such a law now enforced in all our states would restore many a besotted husband to a broken-hearted wife; many a lost son to a widowed mother, many a darling brother to a distressed and mortified sister. It would bring light and gladness to thousands of sorrowful hearts and homes; it would feed the hungry, clothe the naked. Less blood would cry aloud to heaven for vengeance, and less crime of every description would be committed. This lovely territory will soon become a state; here you will rise to eminence in your profession. I know it will be so. You possess your father's talents, and you also possess his high social qualities, which, at one time, brought him to the verge of ruin. Judge Sherman did not at first love drink, but he often drank to please his friends. His associates tarried at the wine, and he would be one with them. The secret, Edward, of the fall of nine-tenths of our young men is social drinking; now, moral suasion has saved many, and no doubt will save many more. But would you give the serpent his death wound, then bring the arm of the law down upon him and it is done."

"The prohibitory liquor law of Maine has been said to have worked wonders," said Edward rather faintly, "but it is thought to be unconstitutional, by many of our best lawyers."

"Undoubtedly it has been so declared," said the Dr., "but I would be sorry to believe the opinion correct; would not you, Edward?"

The Dr. fixed his piercing eyes upon Edward, for he began to suspect that his young friend's views did not coincide with those which he had expressed.

Edward moved uneasily in his chair, bit his lips, and finally stammered out, "Well, I don't know Dr., really, it seems like depriving a man of his liberty to legislate upon what he shall, or shall not sell."

"Even if he sells that which he knows will craze his neighbor's brain, and cause him to commit the most atrocious crimes? When an individual directly, or indirectly aids and abets crime, ought he to escape punishment?"

Edward saw that he stood upon a plank of the rotten old platform, upon which so many have broken through, though they still hold to the decaying posts, and he ingeniously evaded the question.

"I'm afraid, Dr., you are over-exerting yourself," said he, "I will leave you to rest while I walk out and breathe the fresh air."

CHAPTER XI.

Harmless Conspiracy—The Ghost—The Wife Murderer—Tippling and Tattling—Misrepresentations.

r. Glutter, Dr. DeWolf wants you to fill this flask with brandy," said Sorrel Top entering the saloon of the former, about an hour after Edward had left the latter to repose.

"Certainly," said Hank, with a bland smile.

"Allow me to speak with you a moment, Mr. Glutter," said Edward Sherman, hastily leaving his seat near a billiard table, where he was watching the progress of a game, and taking Hank aside.

They whispered earnestly together for a few moments. "Very well," said Hank in conclusion, "I am willing to try that experiment if you wish it, but the Dr. is very stubborn, I have often tried to check him." Then turning to Sorrel Top, "Tell the Dr. I have no brandy."

"Has no brandy?" exclaimed the Dr. as Sorrel Top delivered her message; "it's a lie. O, I see how it is; Mr. Sherman was there, was he not?"

"Yes, sir."

Here the subject dropped, and the Dr. was unusually quiet and patient during the remainder of the day. But when Edward kindly offered to sit by him during the night, he would not listen to him.

"No, no," said he "I am quite well; the parade of watchers would only disturb my rest," so Edward contented himself to retire about midnight.

The Dr. lay perfectly quiet for an hour or two after Edward left him; he then crept softly out of bed, partially dressed himself, noiselessly out of bed, partially dressed himself, and then wrapping a sheet around him, crept out of the house, by a window which opened from the room to the piazza. Gliding down the steps and along the well-worn path he soon reached the brewery, and, as he was familiar with every part of the establishment, found no difficulty in gaining access to the saloon.

The proprietor was lying fast asleep in a room from which he could see and be seen by any one behind the bar. At the first click of the bottles he partially aroused and opened his eyes upon his ghost-like visitor.

Enveloped in white, and seen in the obscure light, the Dr.'s. most familiar friends could not possibly have recognized him, and to Hank's half awakened vision, he presented a really supernatural appearance.

Hank was not naturally superstitious, and, obeying his first impulse, he shouted out, "Who in the d——l are you?"

The Dr. made a warning gesture with his hand, as if to compel silence, and the audacious questioner instinctively recoiled further back in his bed. His courage began to fail him, and a mixture of fear and astonishment kept him silent while his visitor remained, which was only long enough to secure the prize he was seeking among the contents of the shelves.

Not suspecting the full extent of the paralyzing effect his presence had had upon Hank, and fearing he might attempt to follow, the Dr. took a circuitous route home, and in his haste stumbled over something which he discovered to be a shivering, half naked child, crouched upon the ground.

"What are you doing out here this time of night, my little fellow?" said he.

"I'm afraid of papa," sobbed the child, "he said he'd skin me alive if I didn't get out of his sight."

"What is your name? Where do you live? what bad thing have you been doing?" said the Dr., all in a breath.

"I live in a shanty out there, I am Fanny Green. I ain't done anything bad but cry, and I couldn't help it, for papa was striking mamma so."

"Well, come with me, Fanny, I'll take you to your home, and I won't let your papa hurt you."

"Are you an angel?" said Fanny, feeling of the hand that held hers.

"No, I'm a man, my little girl."

"I thought you were one of those angels dressed in white that mamma told me about; they take folks to heaven, and I want to go there, I don't want to go home."

They had now reached the wretched hovel that the child called her home, and she began to weep afresh.

"O, no, no! I dare not go in," she said, clinging convulsively to her protector, "I'm afraid he will kill me."

While she was speaking, the door was roughly flung open, and her unnatural parent rushed out, brandishing a heavy club; but, at sight of the figure clad in white, he dropped his bludgeon and ran off, howling like a wild beast deprived of its prey.

With a glad cry the child bounded into the shanty, and he heard her childish voice saying "mamma, don't be afraid any more, papa has gone way off."

On reaching his room, the Dr. was relieved to find that his absence had remained undiscovered, and he drank himself off to sleep. He was, however, suddenly awakened quite early in the morning by loud exclamations coming from daddy, and, in the intervals, he distinguished the sound of the same childlike voice which was associated with his night's adventure. Immediately calling his old servant, he inquired the meaning of the commotion.

"'Tween you and me," said daddy indignantly, "there's more distruction; little Fanny Green's mother is dead; that brute of a husband has fairly killed her; knocked her skull in with a club."

"When did it happen?"

"O, in the night; Fanny had run out door for to get out of his reach, and 'tween you and me, she says a man with a white dress on led her back, and she found her mother dead on the floor. O! we're havin' on't dreadful now days; spirits walking the airth, never no good comes of sich things."

The murder and the reputed ghost, whom several of the inhabitants testified to having seen at the midnight hour, was the absorbing topic of conversation in the immediate neighborhood where the tragedy was enacted.

For several days succeeding the affair Hank Glutter's saloon was the general rendezvous of the wonder-loving country people round about. All appeared to enjoy the tippling vastly more than Hank himself.

It was not the thought of the needy wife sighing for the hard earned shilling, with which to provide for the many little forms that must go half clad, and the little feet uncovered during the approaching winter, for want of those bits of metal ringing out so sadly as they fell into his drawer, that clouded his unusually complacent smile; neither was it the remembrance of the cruel part he had acted in Little Wolf's abduction that shook his sin-stained soul. He affected to discredit the appearance of the much-talked-of apparition, and yet he was continually tormented with a vague dread of a second visit from his ghost-ship, which he would have pursuaded himself was entirely a creature of the imagination, had not his missing fourth proof brandy bottle proved the contrary.

He had resolved not to mention the occurrence that had so strangely disturbed him, but, being one day alone with Edward, who had called particularly to make one of a company who were going out the day following to renew the search for Little Wolf, he ventured to communicate his secret to him.

"Why, Mr. Glutter, why didn't you tell me before?" said Edward smiling in spite of the sad errand that had brought him there, "all this time you have needlessly tormented yourself."

"How so, Mr. Sherman?"

"Why, Dr. DeWolf swallows a portion of that fourth proof every day. I have no doubt it was he who paid you the visit. I am certain that he knows something about the murder of Mrs. Green, and he must have been the man in white that little Fanny talks about. I see it all clearly now; Dr. DeWolf is the ghost, and he has kept his bed to prevent suspicion."

"I was confident," said Hank with a look of infinite relief, "that the Dr. would have his dram, spite of our machinations. I have known several such cases of apparently insatiable thirst, and it was impossible to keep liquor away from them. Sorrel Top's husband, Harry Herrick, was the worst case of the kind that ever came under my observation. He drank quite moderately at first, but suddenly appeared to have lost all control over his appetite. I reasoned with him in vain, and finally, out of pity to his family I refused him admission here altogether. Well, the result was he stole from my cellar what he could not beg; for the miserable creature was penniless, and before I was aware of it, he actually drank himself to death. It happened while Miss DeWolf was away at school, and on her return my conduct was basely misrepresented to her, and she espoused the widow's cause and took her into her family, and ever after has treated me with contempt. However, I harbor no ill will towards Miss DeWolf. I would gladly make one of your party, were it not entirely impossible for me to leave here; but believe me, I wish you success, Mr. Sherman."

CHAPTER XII.

The Cottage in the Grove—The Disguise—Back to Health—Impatience—Searching the Box—Antoinette La Clair's Story.

Very sad and dreary seemed the hours to Antoinette La Clair, as she watched by Little Wolf's bed side. While her loving hand bathed the burning brow, and her soft musical voice soothed the wild ravings of the invalid, she thought much upon the strange loneliness of their situation. Day after day passed by, and no living soul approached the cottage. She often wondered why it's owner came not, and it was a mystery to her, why Bloody Jim had not discovered their retreat.

From the first, she had taken the precaution whenever she appeared outside to disguise herself in the various articles of clothing, which she found strewn about the house, and, as she went to procure water from the spring, which was at some distance from the house, she would assume the air and gait of a logy country boy. Her sun-burnt straw hat with its crown piece flapping about in the wind; great coarse boots slipping hither and thither on her little feet and her other generally loose fitting attire would, but for her absorbing anxiety, have excited rather more than a smile on her usually melancholly countenance.

It was well that the fact of having remained unmolested for nearly three weeks did not lesson her vigilance on one eventful occasion. It was about sun rise; as she was toiling up the eminence with a heavy bucket of water, which an occasional mis-step would send splashing over her great awkward boots, she saw a man approaching the spring. It was Ketchum; and, as she recognized him, her breath came quicker and she hurried onward and upward. She had nearly reached the top of the hill when she heard him calling out,

"Hello there, boy!"

She turned round, sat down her bucket and stood in a listening attitude.

"I say boy, who lives yonder?"

"I du," she replied in exact imitation of backwoodsman twang, and, taking a step or two downward, she stooped forward and appeared to be attentively eyeing her new acquaintance.

"Be you the man they're looking fur?" she at length drawled out.

"Who's looking fur?" said he with a start.

"Them men at our house."

"No, you fool of a boy."

The last she saw of Ketchum he was hurrying off with all his might.

Antoinette fairly ran into the house and closing and barring the door she fell upon her knees, and, from her full heart went up to Heaven a song of thankfulness. Blessings multiply when gratitude reigns in the soul; so while Antoinette still knelt a change came over Little Wolf and consciousness returned.

"Where am I?" she faintly articulated, as her watchful and tender nurse arose and approached the bed.

"You are safe, thank God," said Antoinette bursting into tears.

Antoinette now felt new courage, and, when Little Wolf was able to bear it, she related to her that part of their flight of which the illness of the other prevented her having any recollection; but carefully avoided any allusion to her own personal history.

Little Wolf longed to penetrate the mystery that hung over her benefactress, and she would often say to herself, as she sat propped up with pillows watching Antoinette's quiet movements about the house, "how I wish I knew more about her; what a romance!"

But as her strength increased, other desires shared her thoughts more largely.

"How are we to get out of this place?" she frequently exclaimed, and, as often, Antoinette would meekly reply, "The Lord will provide a way."

"Well why don't the Lord provide a way to get us away from here?" she said one day rather impatiently as she sat by the window looking out into the sunshine, "I'm sure I'm well enough to travel now, and winter is coming on and, when once the snow falls, we shall freeze and starve shut up here."

"We shall hardly freeze with that big wood pile at the door, or starve with a cellar full of vegetables," said Antoinette pleasantly.

"O Antoinette, I'm sure your faith hangs on the cellar and woodpile; but, dear me, I've seen neither; I must peep into the cellar right away."

"Let me lift the door for you Miss DeWolf."

A light trap door led to the vegetable kingdom underneath. One glance at the potatoes, cabbages and onions, which were only a part of the products of the garden, piled up in this ten by twelve hole in the ground was enough, as Little Wolf declared, to strengthen the weakest faith.

"Now, if we only had wings, we might mount to that nice dried venison in the garret," she said, glancing upward through a square opening cut in the rough boards overhead. "I wonder how they managed to hang it so high; I do believe the place has been inhabited by a giant. Now where shall we hide when we see him coming? O, I'll get into that huge chest, we little folks might both hide there. I wonder I hadn't thought of it before. Why I'm just beginning to feel like myself; I see how it is, I've been petted and babied too long. Please help me lift this heavy lid. O, its locked—O here's the key sticking just in this niche, O—what a sight!"

Here indeed our heroine had penetrated into the mysteries of a heterogeneous mass. Cooking utensils, carpenters' tools, crockery, salt, pepper, and various other condiments used in the culinary department were huddled together in one end, while the remainder of the space was appropriated to books and clothing, and a bachelor's work box, which, for all the order it boasted, might have belonged to the indulgent mother of ten children.

Antoinette watched her friend with an amused expression of countenance, as she flew from one article to another really delighted to find some amusement, however simple, to while away the tedious hours.

"O, John Hanford is our landlord's name. Here it is on the fly leaf of this book, and here is a book purporting to be the property of Antoinette La Clare. Why Antoinette, I thought the honor of discovering the contents of this box belonged to me; but really I see you have been here before me."

"No, Miss DeWolf, I never saw the inside of the box before, I thought there was no key."

"Is it possible? Why what does it mean? Here is surely an old bible with your name written in it in full, 'Antoinette La Clare,' now here it is, you can see for yourself.

Antoinette eagerly took the book, and, having examined the name, proceeded to look it carefully through. It was a pocket bible of the English version in old fashioned binding, and bore marks of long and frequent use.

Little Wolf watched Antoinette's varying countenance as she turned over the leaves. A ray of pleasure, at first, lighted up her sad, wistful face, but slowly faded leaving her apparently more wan and sad than ever, as she returned the volume in silence.

A vague suspicion of evil crept into Little Wolf's mind. How came Antoinette's name in the book and why was she so silent, and why had she appeared so satisfied to remain where they were, if she knew no more about their present abode than she had professed, were a few of the many questions, which awakened distrust, suggested to her busy brain.

The chest had lost its interest and down came the cover with a bang, sadly startling poor Antoinette, who had walked to the window to hide her fast falling tears.

Little Wolf saw the tears and Antoinette felt that she had seen them, and the way was made easy for her to say, "O, Miss DeWolf, I'm a child of sorrow. I am sometimes almost overwhelmed with sorrow. Come, let us sit down together, and I will try to tell you why it is. It seems but a few days since I gaily roamed about my childhood's home, hand in hand with brother Jim, or bloody Jim, as he is called."

"Bloody Jim your brother! It cannot be so!" interrupted Little Wolf in amazement, "I thought he was a half breed."

"So he is a half breed; and he is also my half brother; my father was of French descent and, when a young man, he went to the Red River country and engaged in trapping, and trading with the Indians. For several years he made his home principally among the Chippewas, and, like many others of his class, married an Indian women; brother Jim was the fruit of this marriage. His mother was accidentally drowned when he was quite an infant; soon afterwards my father returned to Canada, leaving his little son in charge of his Indian grandmother. While there he became acquainted with my mother, whom he made his wife with the understanding that she should accompany him to his wild home and be a mother to his motherless child. Perhaps it may be a mystery to you, Miss DeWolf, that a young and cultivated woman could have been so readily induced to expose herself to the hardships and dangers of frontier life."

"O, no!" broke in Little Wolf, enthusiastically, "not if she did it for love."

"What do you know about love, Miss DeWolf?"

A conscious blush overspread the pale young face, for Antoinette accompanied the question with a wistful enquiring look, that seemed to reach to her very heart.

"O nothing, my very good, penetrating friend; please go on with your story. Was your mother happy?" she asked with a kind of nervous haste, as if to compel an immediate compliance with her request.

"I can not say," said Antoinette very obligingly relieving the embarrassment she had occasioned, "I should think she must have been happy, though, for I believe her short life was a very useful one. She died at my birth having been a wife but one year. During that time, she had by many acts of kindness greatly endeared herself to the savages, and the young Indian woman, who had assisted her in nursing brother Jim, for the love she bore my mother, reared her little daughter with unusually tender care. My father survived her loss but a few weeks, and then brother Jim and myself were thrown entirely upon the care of our kind nurse. My mother had taught her to read and she in turn imparted such instruction to us as she had received, or rather I should say her pains were mostly bestowed upon me, for I was her pet.

Brother Jim grew up like the savages around him, only, if possible, more vindictive and revengeful in his nature. I was the only being for whom he seemed to entertain the least affection, and he certainly lavished upon me wonderful tenderness and love. In his early youth he gathered for me the rarest flowers, and, as he grew older, he brought me game and the choicest fruits, and seemed never so happy as when promoting my comfort. For my amusement he brought me a violin from the distant settlement of Pembinaw, and at length, gratified my curiosity by taking me with him in one of his frequent visits thither. While there my fair skin attracted the attention of a missionary's family, and as brother Jim was rather proud of my parentage, they readily elicited a correct account of my birth from him, and by appealing to his pride, at length wrung from him a reluctant consent to place me for a time under their tutorage, where, beside making rapid progress, I cultivated my naturally correct taste for music. Under their hospitable roof, amid the refinements and courtisies of civilized life I spent many happy months."

"At length the last painful illness of my faithful nurse, who had never ceased to mourn my absence, recalled me to her. After her death I was exceedingly sad and lonely, and, to add to my sorrows, brother Jim had acquired a love for strong drink, and frequently came to our lodge in a state of intoxication. I grieved over his infatuation and reasoned with him in his sober hours, but all in vain; he grew worse and worse, and often treated me harshly, In despair I went to the trader who I knew supplied him with whiskey and entreated him with tears not to sell him any more. I received from him only insults."

"Of course, you might have known what to expect from one of that class," said Little Wolf with flashing eyes, "I discovered long ago, that there was no mercy in the heart of the liquor dealer. They know it's a mean business and any one who engages in it must first harden his heart enough to turn away from tears of blood."

"I don't think all who engage in the traffic realize the consequences accruing from it," Antoinette mildly replied. "I am sure no humane person would continue in it, if they once took into consideration the vast amount of misery occasioned by it. I am sure brother Jim was bad enough before he began to drink; but after that he became as unmanageable as a wild beast. Still, alone in the world, I clung to him with all the warm affection of my nature.

"A few months after the death of my nurse, he was pursuaded to join a party from Pembinaw, who were going on their annual visit to St. Paul for the purpose of trading with the whites. At my earnest request he permitted me to accompany him. I was then in my fifteenth year, and mere child as I was, he left me the first day of our arrival entirely alone in our encampment at St. Paul, while he went with the rest of the company to the city.

"By chance a gentleman passing, heard the sound of the violin, with which I was beguiling the tedious hours, and came into my tent. At first I was quite alarmed at sight of a stranger, but his words and manner immediately won my confidence, and put my fears to rest, and, I confess, I was lonelier when he left me and glad when he came again. He knew my unprotected situation, and always made it a point to come when brother Jim was absent. It would be quite impossible for me to describe to you the subtile influence which this person gained over me. I learned to love him with all the ardor of which my passionate and imaginative nature was capable. It was the first unbounded devotion of a warm and innocent heart that he betrayed. I have no words with which to convey an adequate idea of the anguish which I suffered at parting with him. He promised to follow me and make me his wife, but he never came, and at a time when I was least able to bear it, I was subject to brother Jim's fury. His cruelty brought me near to death, and my sufferings only aggravated his bitterness and wrath. With awful curses he swore vengeance on the man for whom I would even then have laid down my life.

"As soon as my strength would permit, I fled to my friends at Pembinaw. I told them all, even of my shame, which a little grave had forever hid from the world. Like true Christians they soothed my sorrows, and gave me the place in their family which their only daughter, who had married and left them during my absence, had occupied. Several years had passed away, and the good missionary died. His wife soon followed him, and I was again left alone. I had never seen brother Jim since I left him, but had frequently heard of his wicked deeds. I thought now that I would go with my life in my hand and seek him out and try once more by affectionate pursuasion, to induce him to give up his reckless life. Accordingly, I mounted my pony and set out for my former wild home. Reaching the lodge after nightfall, to my surprise I heard voices within. I did not go in, but stood listening at the entrance. I heard brother Jim and his companions propose a plan to capture you. They were to start that very night; so I hid myself among the trees and waited until they were gone. Then I went in for the night, and the next morning set out to do what I could towards rescuing you.

"Now I have told you all, Miss DeWolf, and our Heavenly Father alone knows our future. As for my name in that bible, you know as much about it as I do. I never saw the book before."

CHAPTER XIII.

Twofold agony—Dr. Goodrich's promise—Home Again—Lilly Foot—The Convalescent—The Neighborhood Wedding—News from Chimney Rock—The Sherman Family at the West.

dward Sherman was still where we left him, listening graciously to the pretended good wishes of Hank Glutter, when Dr. Goodrich, who happened to pass that way, saw him through the window and beckoned him out side.

"I expected to have met you at Dr. DeWolf's," said he, "and I brought a letter for you."

Edward took the letter and read it carefully through, turning very pale as he did so. It was from his sister Louise, and contained a brief account of the dangerous illness of his mother, with a request for his immediate presence at home. His extreme paleness and the trembling hand, with which he in silence offered the open sheet for the Doctor's persual were all the outward sign of his soul's agony; agony for a beloved and dying mother; agony for the beloved, lost one, for whom, in company with a few friends, he was about to go in quest.

While the Doctor was running over the communication, Edward tried to calm the surging tempest within, sufficiently to decide him how to act.

"Doctor," said he, "I must go to mother, can you, I know it will be difficult, but can you take my place in the company to-morrow?"

"I will go, and, by the love I bear your sister, I promise to do what I can."

"Let me hear from you by mail," said Edward, wringing his hand.

Edward had now barely time to return to Pendleton, and hastily get his trunk in readiness for the forthcoming steamer.

At the sound of the bell he was ready to embark and a few days rapid travelling brought him worn and weary to the old homestead. It was evening when he arrived, and, as he approached the house, he saw a light in his mother's room. His apprehensions were so great that he had not the courage to enter, and, listening near the window, he distinguished his mother's voice in conversation with Louise.

"I would not be surprised to see him this very evening," he heard his sister say.

"Miss Louise," called out Recta's familiar voice. "Miss Louise, won't you please come here quick. Old Spot has got into the front yard; there she is nibbling at that rose bush under the window. I can't see nothing but the white spot in her face; but I know it must be her, she's such an unruly critter; won't you just hold the light while I hist her out?"

"O where's Lilly Foot," said Louise, "she'll drive her out while you open the gate. Here, Lilly Foot."

Lilly Foot came growling along from the vicinity of the barn, where, after the fatigue of bringing the cows from the distant meadow, she had gone to rest and recruit for night watching.

Having forgotten at the beginning of our story to introduce Lilly Foot under the family head we will pause for a moment and give her the notice to which her position and worth entitle her. She was a very respectable looking animal of the canine species originally coal black with the exception of one white foot, from which she derived her name, but now grown grey in the service of the family.

From puppyhood to old age, this faithful creature had made it her daily business to keep the cows, sheep, pigs, and poultry each in their proper places, and, having been raised on a quiet, orderly New England farm, had never in the course of her whole life, had occasion to perform more onerous nightly duties than to sleep with one eye open; consequently, she had come to consider regular rest as her lawful right, and was in no mood to bear the present encroachment.

"I believe the dog is getting old and cross," said Recta in a voice very like that which had occasioned her censure. "Here Lilly Foot, there's Old Spot; take her."

The words had scarcely left Recta's lips before Lilly Foot saw and flew violently at the object indicated,

"Lilly Foot."

They all heard—Edward's voice that came from the rose bush, and it would be difficult to say from which of the three, Louise, Recta, or Lilly Foot, he received the warmest greeting.

Mrs. Sherman had passed the crisis, of her disease, and Edward, assured of her convalesence, sought her bedside with a buoyant step.

"My dear son, to have you here is all the medicine I need now," she said, as she held him to her bosom.

The first greetings over, Edward's unnatural strength produced by anxiety and excitement gave way, and he lay down to rest that night prostrated in body and mind.

Confused images of his mother, Little Wolf, and Bloody Jim crowded his unquiet dreams, and he awoke in the morning comparatively unrefreshed, and the old load in his bosom but little lightened. Soon after breakfast he signified his intention of riding over to the Post Office, two miles distant.

"O no," said his sister playfully, "mother will be disappointed; she expects to have you all to herself this morning. I made it a point to go for the mail every day until she was taken sick. Let me go this time, I really need a horseback ride. If I get a letter for you, you shall have it in just fifteen minutes."

"From now?"

"No; from the time I get it."

"I am overruled," laughed Edward, and he went to his mother's room. Scarcely had he seated himself when Mrs. Sherman enquired,

"Has Dr. DeWolf's daughter been found yet, Edward?"

"No, mother."

"How dreadful! Dr. Goodrich said in his last letter he had but little hope of seeing her alive. I was gratified to hear that you were in pursuit, and that you were situated so you could do your father's old friend a favor. I wish you would tell me the particulars of the sad affair."

Mrs. Sherman wondered at Edward's prolonged silence, as he sat there utterly unable to say a word. She was beginning to have a vague conception of the truth, when he turned to her and said in a voice which the effort to control rendered scarcely audible.

"Mother, I expected to have made Miss De Wolf my wife. I can not talk about it now."

But Mrs. Sherman led him gently on by means which true mothers know so well how to use, to unburden his heart, and ere long her sympathy ran so high as to propose that he should return to Minnesota, and if need he should return to Minnesota, and if need be spend the winter there.

"If I could take you and Louise with me," said he.

Just then Louise came, in high spirits.

"O mother," said she, "you must hurry and get well in time to attend Maria Dole's wedding. I met her going to shop. She wants me to be one of her bridesmaids. Now guess who she is going to marry; but of course you'd never guess for you are not acquainted with the gentleman; so I may as well toll you at once; John Hanford, from the wilds of Minnesota. Maria says she is afraid of being carried off by the bears, but still too willing to venture a home in the woods for her dear Johnny's sake. I did not tell her about Dr. DeWolf's daughter, I was afraid it would stop the wedding, Maria is such a timid creature. Brother, do tell me about that horrible affair."

"Tell her mother," said Edward and immediately left the room.

While Mrs. Sherman was explaining the matter, Edward was walking up and down the lawn in front of the house, vainly considering the probabilities of a favorable termination of his troubles.

"What can we do for poor Edward?" said Louise, after a long silence, "I think he ought to go back."

"He was saying when you came in if he could only take you and me."

"Well why not?" said Louise eagerly, "I am sure if you keep on getting well as rapidly as you have for a few days you'll be about the house in a week."

"When we hear from Dr. Goodrich, my dear, we shall be better able to decide what is best for us to do."

"Then all we can do is to wait in patience."

Wait they did for over a week before the looked-for intelligence arrived, and the following is the contents of Dr. Goodrich's letter.

"Dear Sherman. All our efforts have proved unavailing. We could not find the least clue to aid us in our search. I am now inclined to think that Miss DeWolf has voluntarily secreted herself until such times as she hopes to return unmolested by Bloody Jim, whom, if my conjectures are correct, she no doubt thinks still at large. As for Bloody Jim his lips are forever closed. In attempting to escape from prison last evening he was shot dead.

I learn with pleasure from your letter which I have just received, that your mother's health is rapidly improving. Take courage Ned, the same hand that restored one loved one can also restore the other. You say you must return. Why not bring your mother and sister with you? A change of climate would no doubt benefit both. I think there will be time for you to come before navigation closes. The weather continues splendid. I am now at Dr. DeWolf's. He is worse again; I think he cannot last long. He is literally drinking himself to death. Mrs. Hawley still attends on him. Sorrel Top and daddy do not get along very well together, but between them the Doctor's house is well cared for.

If it will be any comfort to you I will say that I have sanguine expectations of again seeing Miss DeWolf safe at home,

Yours with more sympathy than I can express.

G. Goodrich."

Louise received a letter from the same hand, but it being an entirely private affair we can only speculate upon its contents. Doubtless among other things there were unanswerable arguments in favor of a western trip, for when the reading was over, she was the first one to say.

"I think we had all better get ready as soon as we can and start for Minnesota."

Edward being of the same mind, and Mrs. Sherman willing to gratify her children, it was not many days before the arrangments were all made for the journey. Recta and Lilly Foot were to be left in sole charge of the house; the tenant having promised the assistance of one of his sons when required.

The wedding ceremony of John Hanford and Maria Dole having been performed the evening previous to their departure, they traveled in company with the bridal pair.

Maria Dole was the only daughter of a neighboring farmer, and the two girls had from childhood been on intimate terms, and Louise had hoped some day to call her sister; but she loved the gentle girl none the less for the step she had taken, and Edward's regard for her seemed to have suddenly increased. The conduct of her husband who was a bashful soul, exceedingly shy, and sparing of his husbandly attentions, gave Edward frequent opportunities during their trip of cultivating a more familiar acquaintance with her than he had ever imagined possible.

"Some women appear to better advantage after marriage and Maria Dole is one of them," he said in a very decided manner to his sister after having been engaged in a long conversation with the newly-made wife. "She can converse now and she never could before."

"Yon mean, brother, you were afraid of each other before. It was my fault; you both knew what my wishes were, and it spoiled all. To have carried out the romance of the thing, you ought to have discovered her perfections before it was too late."

Louise quite forgot for the moment her brother's affliction, but on second thought said no more.

"I am sorry Mr. Hanford is going to take her so far from any settlement," said Edward, not appearing to notice what had been said, "he tells me his nearest neighbor is ten miles distant."

"How lonely Maria will be, I'm glad we are all to visit her in the Spring," said Louise, alluding to a promise made to that effect.

"Mr. Hanford rather insists upon my going out with them now, but I could not promise until I had seen the Doctor. If I decide to go I can overtake him by the next steamer, as he will stop for a day or two at St. Paul."

The next day after the above conversation, the party having arrived at Pendleton, separated; Mr. and Mrs. Hanford continuing up the river to the head of navigation, while the Sherman family were introduced to comfortable quarters provided by the forethought of Dr. Goodrich.

By the advice of his friends, who plainly saw, that under the circumstances, he could not content himself to remain where he was, Edward decided to join Mr. Hanford at St. Paul, and the following chapter will chronicle the result.

CHAPTER XIV.

Rough Roads—the Happy Bridegroom—Jacob Mentor's Experience—Fairy Knoll—A Joyful Meeting.

he prospect of a change from steamboat navigation, always so delightful on the upper Mississippi, to jolting and jarring over a rough extent of country in a heavy, lumbering wagon, suited to the unimproved state of the roads, was anything but agreeable to Mr. and Mrs. Hanford, as they surveyed the uncomely vehicle drawn up before their hotel.

Edward had overtaken them, and with Mr. and Mrs. Hanford, stood waiting on the porch, while Mr. Hanford made every arrangement for their comfort, of which the state of the case would admit. The cushions and buffalos at length fixed to his satisfaction he assisted in his wife, and after a small strife, in which each contended for the seat which neither wanted, Edward prevailed, and planted himself beside the driver, while Mr. Hanford, looking remarkably happy for a vanquished man, took his place beside his wife.

The sober driver, Jacob Mentor by name, looked over his shoulder and carefully surveyed his load before starting. The trunks were firmly strapped on behind, and a half a dozen chairs were also disposed of in the same way. A small sized dining table, bed downward, rested behind the seats, so hugged up by boxes and bundles, that it appeared impossible for any number of bumps or thumps to disturb its quiet. The two beaming faces, just in the van of all this array, did not escape the eyes of honest Jacob.

"I guess yer pretty comfortable to start on," said he.

"All right," said Mr. Hanford, "drive on."

It would be a matter of surprise how it had entered into the head of a plain, common-sense, matter-of-fact young man like John Hanford, to bestow the name of "Fairy Knoll" on the little hillock in the wilderness, where stood his solitary cabin, did we not remember that at the time he was completely under love's influence. The name given under such circumstances was music to him as it fell frequently from the lips of his young bride on their toilsome journey thither.

"I hope the fairies at Fairy Knoll will have a nice fire to welcome us, she said, as the day was drawing to a close, and they were nearing her future home.

"Are you very cold?" said her husband, drawing her more closely to his side.

The day had been unusually chilly, and towards night the autumn winds got up a boisterous frolic, and swept past, dashing from their wings light flurries of snow directly in the faces of our travelers, and the delicate bride, unused to such rough play, had at last hid her face behind her veil and wished for the warm fireside. Before she had had time to reply to Mr. Hanford's question, Edward produced a neat little flask encased in silver, and unfastening from the stopper a tiny cup of the same make, he filled it with the sparkling fluid, at the same time giving orders for the wagon to stop.

"Now here is something almost equal to a warm fire," he said offering Mrs. Hanford the cup.

"What is it?" said she, hesitatingly.

"Pure domestic wine, some of Col. Wilson's best, ho presented it to me just before I left home, and gave me his word it was unadulterated," said Edward, with great assurance.

"Col. Wilson's wines are justly popular," said Mrs. Hanford, sipping the beverage; but it is whispered that the Colonel uses alcohol in their preparation."

"O, very likely," said Edward carelessly. "I have no doubt of it, but this he assured me was unadulterated. Have some, Mr. Hanford?"

"I don't care if I do. It is really very fine," he said, returning the cup, "quite stimulating, but I prefer a little brandy to any other stimulant; it takes right hold."

"You surely don't drink brandy!" exclamed the young wife, anxiously.

"Only a little, occasionally, when I need it to keep the cold out. O never fear, my dear," he continued observing the look of concern upon his wife's countenance. "I'm a good temperance man, but not a teetotaler; that is drawing the reins rather too tight."

Meantime, Edward had offered the driver a drink, but the man shook his head; "No, thank you," said he, "I'd rather not take any."

"Not take any!" said Edward, "why, sir, it will do you good."

"I'm not sick," said the other.

"But you are cold," said Edward, mistaking his modest demeanor for bashfulness.

But the earnest and decided shake of the head by which he refused the second invitation, signified more than words that he was an adherent of the total abstinence principles.

"What a simpleton," said Edward to himself, as the individual by his side shiveringly gathered up the reins and drove on.

But the individual's ruminations were of quite a different character, and something after this wise: "Shiver away, old man, it is better to shiver than to drink." Be it known that for many years this grey headed man had without measure, poured down the alcoholic fire. When at length overcome by it, a good Samaritan had discovered him lying sick by the wayside, and had humanely assisted him to rise, and had set him upon the beast commonly known as "Total Abstinence," upon which he had ridden with great comfort and safety up to the time of our story. Moreover being satisfied that the animal was of good parts and sure-footed, he was not at all inclined to exchange the faithful old creature for any of the best bloods belonging to the domestic wine family. He had not forgotten that apparently harmless little hobby-horse whose cognomen was Lager Beer, which he had sported in his youth, but which at last got unruly; whether from having been stabled with vicious beasts, or from a bad quality which it inherently possessed, he was not in a condition to inquire the first time it played off its pranks upon him. But one thing was certain, after several months of docile behavior, one fine morning his pet landed him very unceremoniously in the gutter, after which, on various occasions, he mounted nearly all the beasts in the stable, whiskey, rum, brandy, etc., but they, one and all, proved vastly more refractory than the first named, and, as we have seen, he was at length left battered and bruised by the way side.

It is needless to state that Jacob Mentor's experience had not, nor was it likely to benefit any so much as himself; for who, among the thousands tampering with stimulating drinks, could be made to believe that a glass of beer, or an occasional sip of wine would result in their final overthow?

Such, at all events, was not the opinion of our young friends journeying in the direction of "Fairy Knoll; for more than once the wine went round as the night winds whistled colder. But the tedious road had at length an end, and about dark, the heavy wagon lumbered up under the shadows of Fairy Knoll.

"It won't do to drive up that hill with this heavy load, the horses are too much jaded," said Jacob.

"Then we'll walk up," said Mr. Hanford, jumping out. "Come now, Mrs. Hanford," proudly stretching out his arms, "I will carry you up. Mr. Sherman follow me; the path is a little slippery, and we shall have to step carefully."

By reason of his burden and the icy path, Mr. Hanford was sometime in reaching his cabin, but he made short work of getting inside; for, having bestowed several impatient thumps upon the window which he declared frozen down, he suddenly threw himself against the door, and crack went the wooden fastening, and open flew the door, and a most unexpected scene burst upon his astonished vision.

Surely here were the fairies, and here the warm fire for which his shivering little wife had been wishing. Surprise held him upon the threshold; but Edward, who instantly recognized in one of the so-called fairies, the person of Little Wolf, sprang forward with a shout of joy.

"The honey, sure as I'm alive," cried Jacob Mentor, pressing eagerly after him. "Laws," said he, precipitately dropping his bundles in the middle of the floor, and rushing up to Edward, "how came the little creature here?"

Edward silently held the little creature in his arms as if he would keep back the dear life that appeared leaving her, and when Jacob's eye fell upon the white, upturned face, he drew back with a look of alarm.

When this and that restorative had been resorted to with happy effect, and Little Wolf no longer required undivided attention, at her suggestion Antoinette La Clare briefly related the story of their escape from Bloody Jim. Mutual explanations followed, discovering to Antoinette the fact, that she had taken refuge in the house of her cousin, for such John Hanford proved to be, his mother's sister having married Antoinette's father.

Amid the general rejoicings and congratulations, Edward naturally alluded to the death of Bloody Jim, and the means by which it was accomplished. "We are fairly rid of him now," he said, turning to Little Wolf, who had quietly slipped from his embrace and perched herself upon the big chest, "the ball made sure work."

The color had come to her cheek, and there was great joy in her eye, but Edward's unlucky words made her pale again, and she looked quickly and apprehensively towards Antoinette.

The poor girl shiveringly hid her face in her hands and sobbed audibly.

CHAPTER XV.

Busy Preparations and the Climax—The Lovers—Tom Tinknor's Discovery—General Rejoicings—The Idol Defaced.

he next morning the cottage on the knoll presented a scene of busy preparation, the climax of which brought forth Little Wolf rosy, and roguish, wrapped in blankets and shawls, sufficient, we doubt not, to have covered over more land than the nether garments of the famous Ten Breeches.

She was now in readiness for her homeward journey. The long-wished-for time had come, and with it, ten thousand joyous emotions, which, amid all the changes of after life, she never forgot. Her heart had put forth its life flower, and who ever forgot a like season of bloom.

Edward was here, there, and everywhere, arranging for her comfort, and he looked very proud indeed when he handed, or rather lifted the lady in blankets into the big wagon, and took his seat beside her.

They were to go alone, Antoinette having accepted a pressing invitation to remain with her newly-found cousins. The driver of the day before did not, as on a previous occasion, wait for orders. Before the adieus were fairly spoken he cracked his whip and drove off at a rate, which, in his cooler moments, he would have pronounced absolutely ruinous to his carefully preserved establishment. The fact that said establishment comprised all the earthly possessions of honest Jacob, was of itself a sufficient guarantee for the safe transportation of his employers. But when added to this was a natural cautiousness and benevolence of disposition, which could not but be observed on the most casual acquaintance, few could have lost their assurance, even on the verge of a precipice, when he held the reins.

His extreme caution made him a favorite teamster, not only overland, but especially on the Mississippi; when at certain seasons there was danger in travelling on the ice. At such times, Squire Tinknor and Dr. DeWolf had taken some pains to secure his services, when exchanging family visits, and he had frequently been entrusted with the sole charge of Little Wolf, when she was but a child, and delighted with the long icy trip.

In those days, the little lady had completely won the heart of her protector, and he had never before had occasion to be jealous of attentions which she was pleased to receive from any of her friends, except, indeed, when Daddy would sometimes infringe upon his rights, by officiously lifting her in and out of his sleigh. Nor could he be said to be jealous now. It was only the same disagreeable sensation which affectionate sisters sometimes experience on the occasion of the marriage of a favorite brother. Had Jacob been questioned on the subject, he would have stoutly declared that he was glad of it; for that was just what he tried to say to himself, when he saw Edward put his dearly beloved pet into the wagon. But even his fine horses, which he hurried off with such unseemly haste, ought to have known it was not so.

"Why, what has got into the man? he has almost taken your breath away," said Edward tenderly.

"A little more careful, sir," he said, as Jacob turned his head at his loud exclamation.

"Yes, yes; I beg pardon, I was careless."

The speaker was evidently ashamed of his freak. A second look at the happy couple, and a kind word from his pet, "Dear Jacob, I believe old Grey and Bill remember how I used to want to go fast when we went so much together," soothed his turbulent feelings and he went on quite slowly, picking up some crumbs of comfort in default of the whole loaf.

The loaf, be it remembered, had fallen into the hands of the voracious couple just behind him, and if greedily devouring it during the entire day would have made a finish of it, the deed would have been done. But the more they fed on it, the larger and sweeter it grew, and, by the time they had arrived at Squire Tinknor's, their loaf had grown to be almost as much as they could carry.

Squire Tinknor, it will be remembered, was an old acquaintance of Dr. DeWolf, and, as we have elsewhere stated, the two gentlemen were on intimate terms. Having at one time been his partner in some extensive land speculations, the Squire had, since that period, acted as the doctor's financial agent and advisor. He was generally shrewd and reliable in his business transactions, although his appetite for drink occasionally got the better of his judgment. This known discrepancy of character was tolerated in society rather as an amiable weakness, than a vile habit, for none had the hardihood to frown openly upon a man of Squire Tinknor's wealth and position.

His family consisted of a wife and one son. The latter, a handsome, dashing young man, he had secretly desired to see attracted towards the daughter of his friend, and in this had not been disappointed. Thomas Tinknor had, from a boy, bestowed his choicest attentions upon the young lady, and when she was carried off, he had sworn to bring her back, or "die in the attempt." To this end he had faithfully mounted his horse each day since her disappearance, and had ridden several miles into the woods, always going out in high spirits, and returning somewhat dejected.

It was in this condition that he might have been seen approaching his father's house just as Jacob Mentor drew up before the gate. His heart beat quickly, for he instantly recognized the toss of that little head, enveloped as it was in hood and veil. He was not slow in extending to Little Wolf a warm welcome. So warm indeed, was it, and of such vapory stuff is comfort made, that Edward's ponderous loaf evaporated, leaving only a small fragment such as could be drawn from a stolen glance of the eye, while she was being carried into the house, and transported from the arms of Mr. Tinknor the younger, to the arms of Mr. Tinknor the elder, and lastly, affectionately folded in the embrace of Mrs. Tinknor.

"You see everything I have on is borrowed," said Little wolf, as Mrs. Tinknor was assisting her in undoing her wrappings, "but I hope to be at home in a day or two."

"Home in a day or two!" interrupted Tom, "Not in a month or two, if I can prevent it."

"I intend to be at home to-morrow, provided the steamers are still running," said the young lady decidedly.

"O, now, you are too bad to treat us so shabbily," said Tom, coaxingly, "do stay until the river freezes, and I'll take you down on the ice."

"Thank you, Mr. Tinknor, I must go to-morrow."

Tom Tinknor, knew from past experience that to attempt further persuasion was entirely useless, and he said no more, silently indulging the hope that the ice would blockade the river before morning. His desires were in part gratified. The next day it was ascertained that no steamers would venture forth among the floating ice cakes, and Tom was exultant.

In this mood he determined to give Little Wolf a surprise party, and thus alleviate, in some degree her disappointment. His parents heartily co-operated in his project, and the trio immediately set about making preparations for the entertainment of a large circle of friends.

It was decided that Edward should be initiated into the secret, and the task of hoodwinking their prying and discontented young guest, was assigned to him. By ways and means known only to a masterly hand, Edward contrived on that eventful day to perform the feat, in which, no doubt, the whole Tinknor family combined would have failed.

For when evening came on, and the company were assembled, Little Wolf most unexpectedly found herself in the midst, an object of universal interest. A more beautiful object could scarce have been found. At all events, so thought Edward Sherman, as he mingled in the throng, great billows of gladness surging in his soul. His cup of joy was large and full. He was holding it with a firm hand, and he said in his heart, "I shall never be moved."

The evening was drawing to a close, but the feasting and toasting was still kept up. The wine went round, and the adventures of our heroine continued to be commemorated in appropriate sentiments. While the guests still lingered, a shade of anxiety might occasionally be traced on many a fair face, as husband or brother, or "that other," exhibited unmistakable signs of an overheated brain.

Little Wolfs cheek grew pale, as from time to time she observed the rising flush on Edward's brow. He was exceedingly susceptible to the use of stimulants, and was rapidly thrown into a highly exhilarated condition, making him for a time brilliant, but finally entangling his talk in a labyrinth of meaningless and silly words. When in the latter condition which was not observable until just before the party broke up, he conceived the unlucky idea of urging upon Little Wolf a glass of his favorite drink. "Permit me," said he, stepping, or rather swaggering up to where the lady stood, "to—to—," and suddenly appearing to notice the extreme pallor that overspread her countenance, he stammered, "to bring the blushes to those cheeks."

It was enough. The heart at once threw its crimson mantle upon her face, but alas! it was dyed in shame. Poor Little Wolf had no words at command. There, before her, stood the man in whom, a few hours before she had felt so much pride and confidence. Her heart's best feelings had gone out to him, and here was her idol horribly defaced, and he knew it not. He even held invitingly towards her the instrument that had done the mischief, and, while the cup still shook in his trembling hand, he began to wonder at her silence.

She once or twice moved her lips, as if to speak, but the words died away. She was not faint or weak, but was for the moment paralyzed. When the quick reaction came, on fire with indignation she acted with characteristic energy and decision, and all heard the crash of the goblet, as with one rapid sweep of her little hand she dashed it to the floor, and fled from the room.

Did she forgive him? She said in her heart she would not.

CHAPTER XVI.

Painful Recollections—The Last Boat of the Season—Ruffled Plumes—Reconciliation.

hen Little Wolf awoke the next morning, her mind instantly reverted to the painful subject, that had banished sleep from her eyes the greater part of the night, and, as the shameful scene came up again vividly before her, she buried her face in her pillow and groaned aloud. While thus indulging afresh her grief and mortification, she was aroused by a sound which turned her thoughts in another direction. She started up eagerly and threw open the window which commanded an extended view of the river, and, in the distance, she could just discern through the fast falling snow, a brave little steamer, as if by magic ploughing its way up through snow and ice.

Little Wolf hung out of the window half in fear lest the welcome vision should vanish; but it kept steadily onward, drawing nearer and nearer to its destination, and soon she had the satisfaction of seeing it safely moored, and, by the active discharge of freight, it was evident that it would attempt a downward trip.

The thought of home banished every other from her mind, and she hastily drew inside and shook the white flakes from her glossy hair, and began to arrange them in curls. But the unruly locks had blown about so long in the wind, and got so cold and tangled and required so much coaxing and brushing, that Little Wolf began to despair of ever getting them in order.

Just then she observed on the dresser a bottle of what she supposed to be pomatum, but in reality, a mixture for the lungs, made of honey and other ingredients, which by exposure to the cold had partially congealed. She caught it up and literally saturated her hair in the contents and then with great spirit proceeded to her task.

At the first onset the brush stuck fast; "Dear me what ails it?" she ejaculated throwing down the brush and making desperate dives with a coarse tooth comb.

By this time her pretty tangled ringlets had stiffened into a striking resemblance to cork screws interspersed with porcupine quills. By a succession of impatient jerks she endeavored to bring the wayward mass to submission; but the more she attempted to separate and arrange, the closer the loving locks embraced each other, and she was beginning to despair of conquering the difficulty, when she heard a light knock and Mrs. Tinknor's kind voice said "May I come in?"

"O dear, yes," said Little Wolf, springing to the door, "do come in, my dear Mrs. Tinknor, and tell me what this horrid pomade is made of."

"Why, dear child, what have you been doing to yourself? your hair looks as if ten thousand furies had been tearing it."

"O Mrs. Tinknor, it is this horrid pomade."

Mrs. Tinknor's eye fell upon the offending preparation. "Why, bless your heart my child," she exclaimed in dismay, "you have been using Aunt Betsy's cough medicine."

Little Wolf threw herself on the bed convulsed with laughter, and Mrs. Tinknor heartily joined in the merry peals.

"I came to tell you," said Mrs. Tinknor, when somewhat composed, "that a steamer has just arrived, and Mr. Tinknor and Tom have gone out to ascertain when she will return, if at all.

"O, I know she's going back right away," said Little Wolf springing up. "I saw them hurrying off the freight; O dear, what shall I do with my hair?" She was beginning to feel too anxious to laugh now.

"Come to my room, dear, it is warmer there and I can soon wash it out for you. Now put this shawl around you; never mind dressing, we have the house all to ourselves you know."

"Suppose I were to get caught in this ridiculous plight," said Little Wolf, pushing her feet into her slippers, "I wouldn't have Tom see me for the world."

"Then run along quickly and make sure," said Mrs. Tinknor, laughingly, "I think we needn't feel concerned about the gentlemen coming back for half an hour," she added, as Little Wolf ran on before.

Now the gentlemen had already returned, bringing Edward with them. The latter, having forstalled them at the boat, met them as he was hurrying to Little Wolf with the necessary information. On coming in they unluckily took possession of the very room through which the ladies would pass in order to reach Mrs. Tinknor's apartment.

Reassured by her hostess, Little Wolf pushed confidently forward, making bold and decisive charges at the obstructing doors, and in this manner, made her way directly into the presence of the two young gentlemen, Mr. Tinknor having gone in search of his wife.

Here she was brought to a sudden stand, but it was only for an instant, for Little Wolf, like a true womanly general, was skilled in retreat when caught in rumpled uniform. She turned and darted through the door which stood accommodatingly open, and although Edward's suppressed smile, and Tom's uproarious laugh, goaded her on, she stopped long enough to lock them in, thus cutting off pursuit which Tom evidently meditated; he having, in consideration of their long and intimate acquaintance, felt himself warranted in chasing after her, and was at her heels, when he suddenly found himself a prisoner.

"O Wolf, Wolf, he shouted, pounding upon the door, "the boat, the boat, she'll leave"—

"When will she leave?" said Little Wolf, stopping short.

"Let me out and I'll tell you, come, be quick, there's no time to be lost. If you want to go here's Mr. Sherman to take charge of you."

"I can take care of myself," muttered Little Wolf, but, while she paused she had additional cause for mortification; for Squire Tinknor had found his way to his wife, and her only refuge was behind Mrs. Tinknor's flowing skirts. Here she partially screened herself, while he informed them that the boat would attempt a downward trip in the course of an hour. "Ha, ha, ha," concluded the Squire, "if sis is bent on going, she must make haste out of that plight."

By the united efforts of her friends, Little Wolf took passage for Chimney Rock, and Edward, looking very handsome and self-possessed, acted as her escort.

Without explanation, without apology, without so much as a look of contrition from her travelling companion, at the first interview Little Wolf forgave all the pain and mortification he had made her feel. She had forgiven him without knowing it. She thought herself still angry because her heart ached.

Edward was surprised. He had expected to meet indignant looks, and perhaps reproachful words; he had feared even worse, for he well knew the decision that marked Little Wolf's forming character, and he had armed himself to meet the treatment which he felt he justly merited. But his chosen weapon of defense was pride and so was useless when opposed to Little Wolf's unusual gentleness. He was subdued, and when man's proud spirit is once subdued by the forbearance of the woman he loves, that woman henceforth becomes to him an object of adoration.

Edward had the day before called Little Wolf, darling, now he called her angel, and before he parted from her he had said "my angel," and she had smiled upon him when he said it.

CHAPTER XVII.

Winter Sports—The Doctor's Visits—Preparations for New Year's Day—A Discussion.

inter had fairly set in. The December winds had for several weeks, blown upon the "Father of Waters," and he slept like a huge giant, all unmindful of the western breezes which came to fetter and play their pranks upon him. Many wild revelries did those winged sprites hold upon his grim visage, and many a day did the pleasure loving inhabitants of the lively village of Pendleton go forth and join the grand revel. On such occasions the newly made playground resounded with merry shouts and tinkling bells, for there skating and sleigh-riding and other winter sports were brought to perfection.

Our young friends of the "Bay State" were quite at home amid such scenes, and nearly every day, might be seen dashing up before their hotel, a fanciful little sleigh drawn by a fine spirited grey, who chafed and stamped, and shook his necklace of silver bells, as if to signal the fair lady, whose coming he so impatiently waited. His temper, however, was seldom severely tested, for it was Dr. Goodrich who sported this elegant little establishment, and Louise Sherman well knew at what hour of the day to be in readiness for a ride.

Occasionally the duties of his profession detained the doctor beyond his usual time, and then came Louise's turn to feel the least bit in the world uneasy and anxious. But one day there was a delay of the kind which passed apparently unheeded by her. She had as usual brought out her little fur cap with its red ribbon ties and deposited it with her gloves upon the table, and having arranged her mantle near the fire, and put her overshoes in a warm place upon the hearth, she seated herself by the window, just opposite her mother who has taking her afternoon nap in an easy chair. Here she sat for some time anxiously watching the sleeper, and evidently waiting for her to awaken. At length Mrs. Sherman opened her eyes, and, as she caught Louise's eager glance gave a little start. "Hasn't the doctor come yet?" she asked.

"No mother, but I'm all ready, and I'm glad you are awake, for I wanted to tell you before I left, that Edward had ordered wine for New Year's, and he said if it came while he was out, he wished it put in his private room."

"Wine for New Year's! exclaimed Mrs. Sherman in unfeigned astonishment.

"Why yes, mother, Edward says our friends will expect it of us."

"I cannot consent to it," said Mrs. Sherman decidedly, "we shall have a plentiful supply of refreshments, and, Louise, I'm surprised that you should, in the remotest manner, give your sanction to your brother's foolish proposal."

"But, mother, said Louise, eagerly, "Edward says that it is pure domestic wine, and I don't see what harm that can do."

"It was pure domestic wine that made Noah drunk, my dear."

"O dear," said Louise rather impatiently, "I wish old Noah had never got drunk, if"—

Just then she happened to glance out of the window, and saw the doctor drive up, and consequently her frowns and Noah's sins were burried in oblivion, and a smile and a blush bloomed upon their tomb.

Louise had just done tying on her cap when the doctor appeared at the door, and, while he was exchanging civilities with her mother, she slipped out and ran to her brother whom she saw coming in the passage.

"We can't have it Ned," she whispered, "mother has set her foot down."

"Yes?"

"Yes Ned, she has."

Edward frowned slightly, but said nothing, for by that time, the doctor was hastening his sister away and his mother was gently calling him.

"Edward."

"Yes mother," and, entering her room, he threw himself carelessly into the seat which Louise had vacated.

For a few moments both were silent, and as the son looked into the mother's face, he plainly saw that she was filled with grief and anxiety; and his heart smote him for he really loved and revered his mother; but he resolved to appear as if he had observed nothing amiss, and, taking his hat to leave, he said quite cheerfully, "well mother what are your commands?"

"Edward I have a request to make of you," replied Mrs. Sherman with some feeling in her tone.

"Speak, mother dear," said he, falling pleasantly into his seat.

"It is my request, Edward, that you do not provide wine, or any other stimulant for our New Year's entertainment."

"What, not coffee, mother?" said Edward laughingly.

"You know very well what I mean," said Mrs. Sherman with a faint smile.

"Of course it shall be as you wish," said he more seriously, "but really, mother, I think you are too strict. I am afraid our friends will have a mean opinion of our hospitality."

"They will, of course, understand that we are principled against the use of intoxicating drinks.

"As a beverage," chimed in Edward with a touch of irony in his tone.

Mrs. Sherman looked hurt, and Edward repented again. "Mother," said he, "forgive me, I did not intend to wound you. Let us drop a subject upon which we cannot agree.

"But, Edward, I cannot bear that we should differ. I have always endeavored to instil correct principles into the minds of my children, and now, just as they are on the threshold of what might be a useful life, I find the tares which an enemy had sown beginning to spring up.

"But mother, you know I do not approve of indulging to excess any more than you do. It is only the total abstinence principles to which I object, and even Louise says she can see no harm in an occasional social glass."

"Does Miss DeWolf say the same," said Mrs. Sherman fixing her eyes on Edward.

"I do not know, I am sure," replied Edward nervously twirling his hat, "I have never had any conversation with her on the subject."

"Miss DeWolf is orthodox, I am prepared to testify," exclaimed Louise, tripping into the room, and, before any question could be put as to the cause of her sudden return, she gratuitously gave the information.

"A man had a fit or something," she said, "and I must forsooth, lose my ride, for the doctor's motto is business before pleasure; a very good motto when I am not concerned, but if the man could only have been taken an hour or two later, it would have been a great accommodation. However," and she glanced archly at her brother, "I should then have lost the opportunity of eavesdropping, and consequently of giving in my testimony in favor of my future sister-in-law."

"Thank you, I suppose you obtained your information of my future brother-in-law."

"No matter how I got it, but I'm fully prepared to prove that the young lady's principles are severely 'touch not, taste not, handle not.' We have a great work before us, Ned, for they will not easily be persuaded to our opinions I can assure you."

"I do not wish to influence my friends to think just as I do," said Edward, proudly.

"Well, somehow you have managed to make me think as you do, for you know I was once as strict as mother."

"I hope you have not changed your views on my account, Louise."

"No, not exactly, Ned, yet, I must confess, your arguments have had great weight with me."

"I would advise you to reconsider, and think independently," said Edward rather sharply.

Louise was silent, and Mrs. Sherman now seized the opportunity to change the topic to one more intimately connected with their future plans and prospects. In this the attention of the trio was absorbed until towards evening, when they were interrupted by the doctor's well known knock.

The doctor looked pale and worn, and, as he seated himself, Edward remarked, "you look tired doctor."

"Yes, I am tired," replied the doctor, "I am tired of the world, or rather I am tired of the way we are living in it. I have had an aggravated case of delirium tremens on my hands this afternoon, and I wish every liquor seller in Pendleton could have looked in upon that distressed family. A young and interesting wife, and several small children were compelled to witness a scene of suffering, the horrors of which were truly appalling."

"It is strange," said Edward, "that men will make such beasts of themselves."

"It is strange," said the doctor, "that if men have no hearts of pity, that we can not have laws to prevent the sale of the poison."

"But, doctor, men are not compelled to buy it."

"But, Sherman, men will buy it, and will drink it, the proof of which is before us every day we live. These temperance societies are no doubt most of them useful to society, but they do not deal the death-blow to the monster. Nothing but the law can do that. I know your opinion, Sherman, but in the name of humanity, what are we to do?"

"Why, doctor, we shall have to let men kill themselves if they will be so foolish. We cannot forbid the sale of pistols, because men often use them for purposes of committing suicide; and, even to suppose that a man is quite certain when he sells a deadly weapon to another, that he will use it for the purpose of self distruction, I hold that he has the legal right to sell it; that he has no moral right I readily admit."

"I do not understand law, Sherman; perhaps our constitution is so framed that the people have not the power to say whether or not, our nation shall become a nation of drunkards; perhaps the thousands of intelligent men, who, heart-sick as I am this day in view of the dreadful consequences accruing from the sale of intoxicating drinks, have ignorantly petitioned their state legislature for a prohibitory law, which they had no power to enact; perhaps those judges are correct who have said their state can not have a law that would restore peace and happiness to thousands of families, whose sorrow it is too harrowing to think upon. I say, perhaps, for, I cannot but hope that judges who are equally intelligent and who have told us differently may not be mistaken. One thing is certain, the hand of the liquor dealer must be stayed, or in every house there will be one dead."

"Public opinion might do much towards accomplishing the desired object," suggested Mrs. Sherman."

"True enough, Mrs. Sherman, said the doctor, "but public opinion must have its naps, and at best it is seldom half awake and it requires an immoderate amount of force to bring the sleepy thing to the right standpoint."

"Well, doctor, I am willing to use my little strength in the cause, although I regret to say that my efforts as far as my family are concerned have proved entirely fruitless."

The doctor turned a surprised look towards Louise, whose face was instantly suffused with blushes.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The New Year's Ball—A Check to Festivity—The Midnight Ride—Death in the Old Brown House.

oliday festivities and dancing parties were words synonymous in the early settlement of Minnesota, and, although Mrs. Sherman would have been shocked at the bare idea of her daughter attending a public ball in her native village, the influences of a new country so wrought upon her prejudices, that her scruples gradually yielded; and, when Louise rather doubtfully asked permission to attend a party of the kind to be given on New Year's Eve, she gained a reluctant consent.

"I could not consent on any account, Louise," said her mother with a view to excuse this apparant departure from her principles, "if I had not sometime ago had some conversation with the doctor on the subject. I have great confidence in his judgment, and, I am sure he would not desire it, if it were not a proper place for you. However, I have my misgivings, for I never was allowed to go to such a place when I was young," and she sighed, "but as the Doctor says, there is no other amusement for the young in this new country," and she sighed again. "Is Miss DeWolf going, Louise?"

"Yes, mother, Ned says he had hard work to persuade her to go. She don't like to leave her father. What a pity he is such a sot. I believe I should detest such a father. I don't see how she can be so good to him."

"She is a dutiful daughter, Louise, and a noble girl, and I hope nothing will ever happen to prevent her becoming Edward's wife."

"What can prevent it mother? I'm sure Ned is handsome, and talented and rich enough for anybody."

"I don't know what could prevent it, Louise, but I shall be glad when they are really married. I think a wife of the right stamp would have a great influence on Edward."

"Why, mother, I'm sure Ned's principles are good, and he is steady enough for a young man; I don't see what particular advantage a wife would be to him."

Mrs. Sherman only sighed.

Louise looked a little disconcerted. "Why, mother," said she, "you act as if you thought something terrible was going to happen to Ned and me, and our only escape was matrimony."

"Louise," said Mrs. Sherman after a pause, "could not Miss DeWolf be prevailed upon to spend the day of the party with us; she would only be a few hours longer away from her father."

"Why yes, I think so," said Louise thoughtfully. "Ned could go for her in the morning. O yes," she concluded decidedly, "Ned can manage that I know."

Little Wolf spent the day above mentioned in Mrs. Sherman's family. She was happy; happier than she had been since her return home. The memory of the dreadful night which she passed at Squire Tinknor's had ever since haunted her. It was only when in Edward's presence that she forgot it, and it would even sometimes cloud a moment of such companionship, as comes only to those whose very life is bound up in another's. She often said to herself, it was his first mistake, it would never be repeated; he would not dare to indulge again, now that he was convinced how a stimulant would effect him. But, spite of all her attempts at self-control, whenever the well remembered scene came up before her, she was ready to cry out with anguish. The society of Edward's mother, comforted, and reassured her. The son of such a mother was exalted, if that were possible, in her opinion, and she instinctively gathered renewed confidence in her own future happiness.

During the day, Mrs. Sherman's penetrating eye was frequently fixed upon Little Wolf, as if she would read her very soul, and the glimpses which she caught, shining out in her words and actions were on the whole satisfactory.

Louise, who was naturally rather yielding and dependent, involuntarily deferred to her young companion, whose opinions were always independent and often expressed with marked decision. In fact, before the day was ended, Little Wolf's force of character was felt and silently acknowledged; and little, and rosy, and curly though she was, she had become a power in the Sherman family. But what beauty, what sweetness, what love is potent when opposed to a depraved appetite? But why anticipate?

As Edward was busy in his office the greater part of the day, and the doctor in his professional duties, they saw but little of the ladies, and Mrs. Sherman, anticipating their wishes, advised Little Wolf and Louise to dress at an early hour of the evening, in order to enjoy a quiet social hour all together before the party.

The mysteries of the toilet occupied more time than they had calculated upon, and, just as they were in the midst of an important discussion, as to whether pink or white flowers became Louise best, they heard the gentlemen come in.

"There they come," said Louise, "I hear them in the parlor; do, mother, tell them we are most ready!"

"Now Miss DeWolf," said she, turning to Little Wolf, as her mother left the room, "how do you think I look?"

"Why you look like a prim puritan. The roses in your hair look as if they had been taught to grow very properly all their lives and they were not going to depart from early habits, even if they were going to a 'hop.'"

"Now, do you think they look stiff?" said Louise anxiously.

"Just a little, Miss Louise."

"Please arrange them for me," said Louise, stepping up to Little Wolf.

Little Wolf gave the offending flowers several slight twiches, this way, and that. "There, how do you think they look now," said she.

"O they do look lovely," said Louise, glancing at herself, admiringly in the mirror, why could not I fix them so?"

Little Wolf gave her head a slight toss of triumph, thereby creating a breezy excitement, quite becoming among her ringlets, and the moss rose buds with which they were ornamented. Her dress was white and gauzy, and her every movement floated it gracefully about her slender figure.

Louise was also dressed in white, but there was an air of precision about her, with which although it accorded well with her conservative character, she was evidently dissatisfied, when comparing her appearance with Little Wolf's.

"I wish my hair would curl like yours," she said, glancing from the reflection of her own smoothly braided locks, to Little Wolf's dancing ringlets.

"Why I'm sure you look very beautiful indeed, beautiful as a bride, Miss Louise; now, go ask the doctor if you don't. Don't wait for me, the doctor is waiting for you; I'll come directly when I get this lace fixed."

"Well, remember somebody is waiting for you," said Louise, as she left the room.

A shower of compliments fell upon Louise as she presented herself to her brother and lover. "Now don't waste any more admiration on me, either of you," said she, "save it for Miss DeWolf, she is the most beautiful thing I ever saw. She is grace itself. She touches a ribbon and it knots itself into an exquisite shape, she lays her hand upon lace and it fastens and floats, she gently pats a flower, and it instantly assumes its most graceful attitude. O Ned, how happy you will be."

The words were still upon Louise's lips when Little Wolf joined the circle, and somehow, she instantly caught the expression of Edward's face, and read in it those emotions, with which our pen intermedleth not.

It was very pleasant to look into that quiet parlor, presided over by Mrs. Sherman, who sat regarding her happy children with so much tenderness and pride. But we must not linger, for there are other scenes to be presented.

It was near the midnight hour when pleasure ran highest in the brilliantly lighted ballroom that Edward might be seen leading Little Wolf to a seat. She had appeared on the floor many times, and had at length acknowledged herself weary.

"What a handsome couple," whispered Louise to the doctor, nodding significantly towards them, and her whisper was echoed by many others.

There was a deep red spot in Edward's cheek, and a flash in his eye, which some might have attributed to the excitement of the occasion, but the doctor and those who knew him well, interpreted it differently. He had several times during the evening left the room with one or two of his friends, who were in the habit of indulging in a social glass, and Edward's principles were not such, as to shield him from their influence.

Little Wolf's quick eye followed him when he went and when he came; not indeed with a suspicion of the truth, for it did not occur to her that he was being led into temptation, but the fact was about to burst upon her.

"Excuse me for a few moments, love," whispered Edward as he seated her, "I will be back in time to dance the old year out and the new year in with you; the next is to be our wedding year, is it not?"

Little Wolf smiled and fluttered her fan to conceal her confusion.

Two gentlemen were engaged in conversation near Little Wolf, and, as Edward left her one of them remarked, "What a pity so many of our promising young men are falling into the habit of drinking. There is young Sherman, if I am not mistaken, under the influence of stimulant."

Although not intended for her ear, Little Wolf caught the words, and her bright smile faded, and her busy little fan dropped in her lap. The wound so lately healed was reopened, and in it had fallen a corrosive poison. She felt the aching pain, and the eating smart, she begged Dr. Goodrich to take her from the room. She had arisen and was leaning on his arm when Edward returned.

"I see my bird is on the wing," said he claiming Little Wolf's hand for the forming cotillion.

Little Wolf caught his breath as he leaned towards her, and grew paler, "I cannot dance," said she drawing back.

Edward looked surprised, but the doctor knew what all meant and he turned with her towards the door, when who should they see, but daddy, making his way towards them.

He had evidently come in haste, for his great rough over-coat was only partly buttoned, his leggins were put on awry, his over shoes were untied and the strings dangled under his feet somewhat retarding his shuffling locomotion. With fur cap drawn low so as to protect his face as much as possible from the biting winds, beard white with frost, and clusters of snow flakes resting upon his broad shoulders, Daddy pushed forward into the throng.

Little Wolf no sooner saw than she ran up to him, "What's the matter Daddy?" said she.

"Twixt you and me, Honey," said he clutching her by the arm, "the doctor is pretty nigh done fur."

Little Wolf waited for no futher explanation. She gave her little dimpled arm a jerk and was out of the room in a twinkling.

"Bless me, twixt you an'me, it will go hard with the Honey," said Daddy addressing Dr. Goodrich, "your services is needed. Miss Hawley said fetch you right along with the Honey, and, doctor hev' her wrap up right smart, its awful cold and blowy—howsoever, I clapped in two big buffaloes, for I know'd putty well how gals is dressed at sich places. Laws, I expect them are buffaloes would keep her warm if she hadn't nothing on but that are outside fish net."

For once Daddy made no useless delays. He saw that Little Wolf was well wrapped in as they sped along the frozen river. The horses were put to their utmost speed, but in vain. Little Wolf arrived a few minutes too late to attend her dying father.

With a despairing wail she threw herself beside his dead body. She did not weep, but moaned so pitifully that it was distressing to listen to her.

Mrs. Hawley at length went to her and gently raised her up and removed her hood and cloak. In her haste, Little Wolf had made no change in her dress, and she was too much absorbed in grief to once think of her appearance. The rose buds fell from her hair on the still face of the corpse and her white robes floated over it, while Mrs. Hawley tried to soothe and speak words of comfort to her.

But suddenly her eye fell upon a form at the opposite side of the bed. It was Hank Glutter. She was pale before, but at sight of him she became absolutely ghastly. Slowly she arose to her feet and went around to where he stood. "Mr. Glutter," said she solemly, raising her hand, as if to pronounce upon him some dreadful anathema.

"Miss DeWolf," said Hank, eagerly interrupting her, "do not curse me."

"Vengeance is mine, and I will repay, saith the Lord," burst from Little Wolfs white lips.

Is there not a curse which the liquor seller cannot escape?"

CHAPTER XIX.

Neighborly Sympathy—Little Wolf's Bosom Friend—A Disappointed Lover.

he news of the sudden and unexpected death of Dr. DeWolf, quickly spread among the few poor families living in the vicinity, casting a gloom over the little community, where he had been so long well known, and, before strong drink got the mastery of him, greatly respected and beloved. Many a sorrowful face looked out from doors and windows towards the old brown house on New Year's morning, and one after another, the sympathising neighbors offered their assistance at the door of the bereaved, whose sunny face had often cheered their own quiet homes.

But poor Little Wolf at the time knew nothing of their kind intentions. After the first burst of grief, leaving all arrangements which the occasion required to Dr. Goodrich, she shut herself in her own room, and none dared intrude upon her night of sorrow, except indeed Daddy, who was indefatigable in his attentions. The kind hearted old man wrapped himself in blankets, and lay down near her door, and, at intervals, during the hours of that cold January morning, he crept in softly and replenished the fire, and, after lingering a moment in the vain hope that she would notice and speak to him, he would go away muttering pitifully to himself, "poor Pet, poor Honey."

About daylight, worn out with anxiety and fatigue, he fell asleep, and a few hours afterwas awakened by a hard thump on the head and starting up, he saw Sorrel Top, just gathering herself up from a fall.

Little Wolf: A Tale of the Western Frontier

Little Wolf.

A TALEOF THE WESTERN FRONTIER.

BYMRS. M. A. CORNELIUS.

CINCINNATI:JOURNAL AND MESSENGER,No. 178 ELM STREET.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, byMRS. M. A. CORNELIUS,In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

CONTENTS:

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII.

CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XV.

CHAPTER XVI.

CHAPTER XVII.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CHAPTER XIX.

CHAPTER XX.

CHAPTER XXI.

CHAPTER XXII.

CHAPTER XXIII.

CHAPTER XXIV.

CHAPTER XXV.

CHAPTER XXVI.

CHAPTER XXVII.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

CHAPTER XXIX.

CHAPTER XXX.

CHAPTER XXXI.

CHAPTER XXXII.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

CHAPTER XXXV.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

LITTLE WOLF.

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII.

CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XV.

CHAPTER XVI.

CHAPTER XVII.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CHAPTER XIX.

A TALE
OF THE WESTERN FRONTIER.

BY
MRS. M. A. CORNELIUS.

CINCINNATI:
JOURNAL AND MESSENGER,
No. 178 ELM STREET.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by
MRS. M. A. CORNELIUS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.