Settling Day

CHAPTER XX

DANGER AT HAND

After the races, Swamp Creek settled down into its usual quiet ways, and the excitement quickly subsided.

Most of the inhabitants won a trifle over Neptune's victory and were therefore gratified at the result of the cup.

Willie Dennis was none the worse for the blow he had received, but his father was desperately angry, and no steps appeared to have been taken by the police to ascertain who committed the outrage.

'They are a dunderheaded, sleepy lot,' he said to Sal; 'and Doonan appears to be no better than the others.'

'It is not his fault,' she replied. 'I know who did it, and so do you. It was Abe Dalton. I could see it in his face when I tackled him at the races. The coward shrank from me.'

'I think he is the man,' said Jim; 'but we have no proof. I am going over to Barragong with Dr Tom. We shall not be away more than two or three days. You can look after things here. Willie will be able to attend to the hands, and see Neptune and the other horses are properly exercised. I will tell Silas Dixon to keep a watchful eye on everything, but I do not think there is anything to fear, and you will not be molested.'

'I am not afraid,' she said; 'and I can use a revolver as well as most men.'

'Yes, you are a good shot,' he answered her. 'I hope there will be no occasion for shooting.'

He rode over with Dr Tom Sheridan on a long-promised visit to Adye Dauntsey.

Jim Dennis was a regular stay-at-home, and never cared to be long away from Wanabeen.

The police magistrate, however, knew how to entertain such visitors, and he possessed a fund of anecdote, and had gone through a wide and varied experience, which enabled him to relate many stories of interest connected with the district.

Abe Dalton was not slow to learn that Jim Dennis was absent from Wanabeen, and he thought it would be a good time to attempt to get possession of Sal during his absence.

He laid his plans accordingly, and four of his men were allotted to undertake the task.

There were, however, in the blacks' camp at Barker's Creek, women who had come to loathe and hate Dalton and all his belongings, and who sometimes managed to escape the vigilance of his men and get away unseen, when they would visit Sal at Wanabeen, or search out their own tribe. They were bound to return to the Creek, or it would have gone ill with those remaining behind.

Dalton's men took but little heed of the blacks, talking freely in front of them, and it came to their knowledge that Sal was in some danger, so they determined to warn her. The nature of the danger they failed to understand, but that it existed they were certain.

At night one of the gins slipped away unobserved and walked to Wanabeen, where she arrived at daybreak. These blacks knew the country well, and had they been treated in a decent manner would not have been slow to appreciate kindness.

Sal was always willing to give them a helping hand, and tried to persuade them not to go back to Barker's Creek when they came to Wanabeen, but without avail. They regarded her with a sort of awe, knowing her to be partially one of themselves and yet far superior. They could not understand how a woman who had once been in their tribe became as she was.

When Sal went outside she saw the black gin waiting on the steps of the verandah. She welcomed her and gave her food, and then questioned her.

She gathered that some danger threatened her from Dalton's gang, and that Jim's absence from Wanabeen was known at Barker's Creek.

She thought but little of herself, all her anxiety was for Willie and Jim Dennis's property.

Where was Constable Doonan? That was her first thought, for she knew he would help her, and the arm of the law was strong. In such a district it was a hard matter to know where the mounted police are to be found.

Constable Doonan was stationed at Swamp Creek, but he might not be there, and there was no time to lose.

She thought for a few moments, and then sent Willie to tell Dixon she wanted him. She knew she could trust Silas Dixon, although he was a surly, misanthropical sort of man.

Dixon came, and growled out something about being interfered with in his work, and that he wished the boss was at home and there was no women to meddle with him.

'So do I wish he was here,' said Sal, 'for danger is at hand. You must ride to Swamp Creek and seek out Constable Doonan, and if he is not there you must find him.'

'Easier said than done,' was his answer.

'But you must find him, Silas. There is danger!' And she related what the black gin from Barker's Creek had said.

'Whew,' whistled Silas, 'Dalton's lot, eh! They have left us alone for a good number of years, and now the scoundrels are breaking out again. I'll go, and I'll find Doonan. I owe Dalton one, as many another good man round here does.'

'Lose no time about it, find him as quickly as possible,' said Sal; 'and, mind, not a word to Willie about it.'

'He'd better know. That lad's useful. He's as good as a man, bless yer heart.'

'Tell him, then. Do as you think best,' said Sal.

Willie had been riding Neptune in an early morning spin, and when he returned Silas said to him, —

'I know you'll not be frightened, Willie, at what I'm going to tell you. One of the blacks from Barker's Creek's here, and she tells Sal there's to be ructions around Wanabeen.'

'When?' said Willie, quietly.

'While the boss is away, sure,' said Silas.

'What'll we do?'

'I'm going for Doonan. If he is here they'll get pepper,' said Silas.

'I'll go with you.'

Then, as the lad thought for a moment or two, he added, —

'If I go there will be no one with Sal, but we shall not be long away.'

Silas smiled.

'I thought he was as good as a man,' he muttered to himself. 'He's a chip off Jim Dennis, if ever there was one. Whoa up, you beggar! You just missed me.'

The latter part of these remarks were meant for Neptune, who had lashed out at Silas with both heels.

Willie laughed as he said, —

'He's beaten Abe Dalton once, and he'd do it again if he could only get one home like that.'

'When can you come?' asked Silas.

'I'll have a snack and be with you quick,' replied Willie.

Neptune having been installed in his box and properly looked after, Willie went inside to refresh himself.

'He's told you,' said Sal.

'Yes,' said Willie, consuming a square meal with considerable rapidity, 'he's told me.'

'And you'll go with him?'

'Rather.'

'And when you see Constable Doonan what will you say?' asked Sal.

'Leave that to me. I'll fetch him quick enough.'

'You will be able to find him?'

'I know where he is.'

'Where?'

'Just outside of Barker's Creek, on the watch.'

'What for?' asked Sal.

'Business, so he said,' answered Willie, 'whatever that means.'

The lad finished his meal and left the room.

They were quickly mounted, Silas and the boy, and rode off in the direction of Barker's Creek, for Willie had told him where he had seen Doonan.

'You "copt" him there this morning. You must have given Neptune a rare good spin,' said Silas.

'He wants it,' said Willie. 'Long and strong work he wants. That won him the cup. Do you know how I felt, Silas, when he was winning?'

'No, lad, but I'd like to.'

They were riding at a good pace, and the old hand thought, 'What a seat the boy has! He can beat me with all my knack of doing it.'

'I felt just like shooting through the sky on a comet,' said Willie.

'As fast as that?'

'Yes; and when we passed the box I had no idea what had won or where I was. Neptune went over the ground at a tremendous rate.'

'But you were bad, ill, and you had no idea what you were doing. That's the yarn they tell me,' said Silas.

'I felt a bit queer, but I stuck on fast and sat still. That's the way to ride Neptune. If I'd moved on him I believe he would have lost. That knock on the head helped me, I had to sit still.'

'There's someone over yonder,' said Silas. 'Your eyes are better than mine. Who is it?'

'It is Doonan. Come on,' shouted the lad.

They rode at their horses' best pace, for Constable Doonan was well ahead of them.

'I'll coo-ee,' said Silas, and he did, and the familiar sound carried far, to Doonan's ears. The constable looked round, and as he did so reined in his horse. He knew there must be something 'up' or they would not have ridden after him at that pace.

He rode towards them.

'You two appear to be having a race,' he said.

They looked at each other.

'Tell him, Willie,' said Silas.

The lad was not long in explaining.

'I'll ride back with you,' said Doonan. 'They can have done no harm yet.'

'Why are you around here?' said Silas.

'I want Seth Sharp,' said the constable.

'What for?'

'There's been murder done.'

'Who is it?'

'Ned Glenn.'

Willie and Silas looked at him in horror. They could not believe it. Ned Glenn, the old coach-driver they had known for so many years!

'Dead – not Ned, surely!'

'It's right, lads; and he just had time to say it was Seth Sharp shot him and that Dalton's lot were in it. Let me get hold of any of them, that's all,' and the constable raised his clenched fist and looked fierce.

The tears came into Willie's eyes. Ned Glenn was a real old friend, and he could not bear to think of it.

'How did it happen?' said Silas.

'The coach was stuck up about three miles outside Swamp Creek. All I know, and the others know, is that Ned was found lying on the ground dying. Two horses were killed, and there were no passengers. What the motive for the business was I don't know and cannot imagine. There was no gold in the coach, and it is most likely Seth Sharp did it out of revenge. You may remember, Silas, it was Ned Glenn who put him away?'

'So it was, so it was,' said Dixon.

'We must make haste,' was Willie's comment. 'Suppose Sharp was one of the men sent over to our place?'

'He'll not venture there. He has put his neck in a halter this time,' said Doonan; 'and Barker's Creek will have to be wiped out.'

CHAPTER XXI

A CLEVER ESCAPE

'They cannot well be ahead of us,' said Doonan. 'I have seen no one about.'

'Precious good care they would take you did not see them,' answered Silas.

'We must make the best of our way back,' said Willie, and set the pace faster than Constable Doonan's horse cared to go.

'I shall be left if you go at that rate,' he shouted to Willie.

As Wanabeen came in sight all appeared quiet and safe, and they anticipated nothing had happened there. They were mistaken.

Abe Dalton had laid his plans well. Together with three of his men he had been on the watch for some hours. By a mere chance the absence of the black gin from the camp had been discovered, and Dalton had found brutal means to find out where she had gone.

'It will cost her her life,' he muttered, and then he cursed his men for talking of such matters in front of the blacks. Sal being warned, as he expected would be the case, no doubt either Willie Dennis or one of the hands would be sent to Swamp Creek for assistance.

Dalton at once decided to ride in the direction of Wanabeen and keep a sharp lookout. He knew every inch of the country and every place of concealment.

Not far from Wanabeen homestead was an old disused boundary rider's hut, and it was here he meant to hide and keep a sharp lookout.

Luck favoured him. With some difficulty the horses as well as the men were packed inside, and no signs of them could be seen.

Abe Dalton caught sight of Willie and Silas Dixon riding away at a fast pace, and knew they must have been put on their guard, but he was surprised at the direction in which they were going, as it did not lead to Swamp Creek.

'What's their little game?' he wondered. 'Perhaps they are on the lookout for Doonan. I shall have to make an example of him. He hangs around Barker's Creek too often for my liking. That fool Sharp; I must get rid of him, or he'll land us in some trouble. He'll have to be fired out and take his chance. There is no help for it.'

When Willie and Silas Dixon were out of sight, the party emerged from their hiding-place, and, quickly mounting, rode as fast as the horses could gallop to Wanabeen.

Sal heard them as they drew near, and looking out at the door saw it was Abe Dalton and his men.

Her heart almost failed her, but she was courageous, and quickly slamming the door, locked and bolted it. Then she fastened the windows, and, taking up the revolver, resolved to defend herself until help arrived. The black gin was crouching in a corner, quivering with terror, for she knew Dalton would show her no mercy when he found her there. It was useless for Sal to ask her to assist in the defence, the poor creature was helpless from sheer fright.

Dalton reached the house first, and banging at the door with the butt end of his whip, shouted, —

'Open the door, my black beauty. No harm shall come to you if you go with us quietly, but we mean to have you.'

She made no answer, and Dalton, becoming impatient, sent a couple of his men to the rear of the house, where they commenced to smash in a window.

The crack of a revolver was followed by a cry of pain, and the smashing of glass ceased.

'She's got a revolver,' said Dalton. 'We must be careful, but she cannot attend to both the back and the front of the place.'

He saw a heavy axe standing in the yard and called to the man who was minding the horses to bring it him. The fellow put the horses in the yard and then brought him the axe; it was one used for splitting logs and was very strong. Dalton brought it down with a crash on the door, and the wood splintered. He put his hand inside to unlock it, or to pull back the bolt, when Sal fired at him, but missed.

Nothing daunted, Dalton stepped back and again raised the axe. The door, not being strongly built, was soon forced open, and as it fell inwards there was a crash heard at the back of the house, where Dalton's men had also forced a way in. Sal was so intent upon taking aim at Abe Dalton that she did not hear one of the men steal quickly up behind her. He hit up her arm as she fired, and this saved Abe Dalton's life, as the bullet went through his hat.

She was at once pinioned and her arms strapped behind her.

'That was a near shave, Sal,' said Dalton; 'and if you belonged to me I'd damage that face of yours. As it is, I'll leave that for your new master to operate on when he's tired of you.'

'My new master!' she said. 'What do you mean?'

'A very nice man has fallen in love with you, Sal, and we are going to take you to him.'

'You will suffer for this. Wait until Jim Dennis returns,' she said.

Sal knew it was useless to offer resistance; she must escape by some other means when out of Dalton's hands.

Where were they taking her to? It could not be Barker's Creek. Then she recollected what Rodney Shaw had said to her, and shuddered. Would he dare to risk this outrage, with the assistance of such men as Dalton and his gang? A man in his position dare not do it.

She little knew of what Rodney Shaw was capable.

They took her outside and strapped her on one of Jim Dennis's horses.

The black gin cowering in the corner had escaped notice until, unfortunately for her, as Dalton was leaving the room he caught sight of her.

'There you are!' he said with a savage scowl. 'I'll teach you to play the spy, you black devil!'

He rushed at her and hit her across the face and head with his whip. She howled with pain, a piteous cry, almost like that of a dying animal, a long wail that caused Sal to shudder.

'I'll teach you,' he said, and, picking up Sal's revolver, he shot her through the head with no more compunction than he would have done a dingo.

'You will tell no more tales,' he said as he kicked her body away from him. 'I'll leave you here for the boys to clear away when they return.'

The party were soon on their way to Cudgegong, and they kept a lookout in every direction for signs of Willie Dennis and Dixon.

'We shall leave them on the left,' said Dalton. 'I don't think there is any danger of our being seen. I hope you are comfortable, Sal,' he added with a grin.

She made no reply. She was busy thinking how she would act, for she knew they were going in the direction of Cudgegong.

It was a long, tedious ride, and the men were in a bad humour. They thought Abe Dalton a fool for being mixed up in a job like this.

'Did you shoot that black gin?' one of them asked.

'Yes; she will tell no tales,' he answered.

'There'll be a lot of trouble over it, and with Seth Sharp's bungling piece of work the Creek will be too hot to hold us.'

'If you are afraid to stay there you know what to do,' growled Dalton.

'Clear out, I suppose. You are mighty fond of telling some of us that. Mind we don't clear you out.'

'Yes, I'll mind that, and I'll not forget what you have said. That's your gratitude after I have kept you all these years,' said Dalton.

'Kept me!' echoed the man. 'Come, I like that. It's me that's helped to keep you, and more fool I have been to do it.'

Sal was in hopes they would quarrel and give her a chance to escape, but, although Dalton and some of his men were always falling out, their mutual interests were too inseparable for any really serious quarrel to arise.

Rodney Shaw was awaiting their arrival at Cudgegong, for Dalton had sent him word the previous day that he might expect them. He was in an excited state, and had been screwing up his courage with his favourite liquor. He knew he was doing a rash and cowardly act, one that would not only get him into trouble possibly, but would cause everyone to regard him as a scoundrel.

He was, however, a man who cared little for such things, and, if the worst came to the worst, he could clear out from Cudgegong. He had come to hate the place, and there were other matters connected with it, memories that haunted him and caused him to have many sleepless nights. He thought in time Sal would settle down with him, as she had done with Jim Dennis, and that she would be company for him. Until such time arrived he meant to keep her safe and do as he liked with her.

He little knew the task he had set himself or the woman he had to deal with. There was much of the cunning of the black in Sal, and she was not a woman to submit tamely to indignities. When Abe Dalton and his party arrived at Cudgegong Rodney Shaw at once had Sal taken to the room prepared for her.

'You will soon be happy and contented here,' he said to her; 'and you will not find me a bad master. You would not come to me of your own free will, so I thought I would send for you.'

Sal gave him a fierce look from her big dark eyes, and said, as she faced him, —

'You are a coward, not a man. Jim Dennis will throttle the life out of you when he finds out what you have done.'

'He will not find out, because he will never suspect you are here,' he replied.

She made him no answer. She felt Jim Dennis would know what had befallen her.

He left her and went to settle with Dalton.

'You will find yourself in a nice mess over this,' said Dalton.

'I'll take the risk. I have the woman, that is what I wanted. Here is your money.'

'It was a stiff job,' said Abe Dalton, 'and we have run a big risk. Can't you make it a trifle more?'

Rodney Shaw swore at him, and said a bargain was a bargain, but he eventually gave him twenty pounds over the sum agreed upon.

When they were gone he went again to Sal. He meant to try and coax her into a good humour. He succeeded ill, and, losing his temper, said, —