icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Log out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

Molly McDonald / A Tale of the Old Frontier

Chapter 6 THE CONDITION IN THE COACH

Word Count: 1941    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

his eyes with his shirt sleeve, and stared into the night. He could hardly comprehend yet that the affair was ended, the second attack repul

istinct black smudges were fleeing savages, their voices wailing through the night. Just in front, formless, huddled where they had fallen, were th

ionless body. Not until then had he realized the possibility of death also within. He felt downward with one hand, his nerves suddenly throbbing, and his finger

rly. "It was a squarer death than he

fraid in the stillness, endeavoring to discover space on the floor for both his feet. He could perceive now a distant star

ove a whisper. "What is the tr

om head to foot. Bent double over the iron back of the middle seat, with hands still gripping his hot rifle, the man hung, limp and lifeless. Almost

ed to himself dazedly, "every

t must have discovered long since that it had only contained three defenders. They would guess that ammunition would be limited. His knowledge of the fighting tactics of the Plains tribes gave clear vision of what would probably occur. They would wait, scattered out in a wide circle from bluff to bluff, lying snake-like in the grass. Some of the bolder might creep in to drag away the bodies of dead warriors, risking a chance

close to the window; against the lightness of the outer sky, her head seemed lying upon the wooden frame. She did not move, he could not even tell that she breathed, and for an instant his dry lips failed him utterly, his blood seemed to stop. Good God! Had she

ioned anxiously. "Lord,

et scarcely to understand, like

en-there are others? I-I

cklessness in the answer. "I have n't even a

t was all so horrible I cannot remember

you mind telling me how

ice the heavy revolver in her fing

floor, I knew he was dead, and-and there was his revolver held right out to me in his hand. Before I

admiration in his voice. "And so it was you there with the small gun.

e when I got to the window; they-they looked like-like wi

laughed

ed, anxious to control her excitement. "Now you a

Mr. Moylan b

ly. "He was shot, and is beyond our help. But come," and he

n mastering her. A red tongue of flame seemed to slit the outside blackness; there was a single sharp report, echoing back fr

oming again! Wh

wits to get away. An Indian never risks a night assault, unless it is a surprise. He wants to see what he is up against. Those bucks have got all they want of this outfit; the

dark and shoot," she protested. "Th

of the window. "They 're liable to bang away occasionally, and I suppose it is up to us to make some response just to tell them we 're awake and ready. But the

lly, "it is jus

n's eyes yet. Watch, now; I 'm

er, and she clutched the window-casing. An instant the muzzl

," he muttered in explanati

t, a yell in the distance, followed by the sound o

he commented cheerfully

red, as though the question

having its natural effect, was helping to control her own nerves. She felt his strength, hi

hot we might have held out till help arrived; I 've got about twenty cartridges left; but you and I alone never could do it. I 've got to think it out

e rough sleeve of his shirt. It made her sure of his presence, his protection. Th

going to

; how could y

enlisted man, and sometimes officers' ladies think w

n his sleeve, drawing a

I-I saw your face this afternoon, and-and I

ve to work together from now on. You keep sharp watch at the window there, while I think a bit

oke the silence. To the left, seemingly a full half-mile distant, was the red flicker of a fire, barely visible behind a projection of bank. But in front not e

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open