The Night Riders. Henry Cleveland Wood
reasons?" asked Sally, arousing to some slight show of interest.
"Well, now, we'll suppose, for instance, the girl to be you," began the Squire, argumentatively. "You and your mother are depending on the toll-gate for a living, and it makes you a comfortable one, at any rate. Did you know the toll-gate raiders were at work?" asked the Squire, abruptly.
The girl caught her breath with a quick start.
"No," she answered, quickly. "Where?"
"Right here in this very county. They burned a toll-house just on the boundary line only the other night, and cut down the pole of one gate in the edge of this county last night, so I was told today," said the Squire, impressively.
"I'm afraid we're going to have a deal of trouble over the matter before it's ended," he continued, thoughtfully, shrewdly following the impression he had evidently made on the mind of his hearer. "The spirit of lawlessness seems to be widely spreading."
"Do you think there's any danger of the raiders payin' a visit to the New Pike Gate?" questioned Sally, anxiously.
"I shouldn't be the least surprised," answered her companion, with a dubious shake of the head. "The night-riders seem determined to make way with all the toll-gates in this part of the country if they can."
"I can't think they would harm us," insisted Sally, "two poor, helpless women."
"Likely not, but if the raiders have made up their minds to have free roads, as they appear to have done, they would not hesitate to burn the toll-house over your heads, which would leave you and your mother without a shelter, don't you see?"
The Squire paused, and the girl sat buried in deep thought for some moments.
"In that case, what could you do or where could you go?" asked the Squire, at last breaking the silence that had fallen between them.
"Heaven only knows!" cried the girl, earnestly.
"Now, affairs stand just in this way," continued the Squire, craftily. "If the raiders should burn the toll-house—and it is a most probable thing, I fear—it would leave you two women in rather a bad plight. But if you'll only agree to marry me, why, there's a nice home waiting for you, and your mother will also have a comfortable shelter in her old age, and neither of you will have cause to worry about the future."
The Squire paused, but Sally made no answer. She knew full well that his words were quite true concerning the dependence of her mother and herself on the toll-gate for a living. She also knew that as long as the Squire entertained the faintest hope of ultimately winning her the gate was secured to her mother, and therefore she had not felt troubled on this score; but now that a new and unlooked-for danger threatened in the unusual and unexpected presence of the raiders, she tremulously asked herself, "What, indeed, if the toll-houses were destroyed, would become of her and her mother?"
The girl felt no fears for herself regarding the future—she was energetic and had been familiar with work all her life; it held no terrors for her; she could hire out—wash, cook, sew—perhaps some day marry the man of her choice when he should be in a position to take unto himself a wife; but, with her mother's welfare also to be considered, the matter grew far more complex.
"Don't you see just how matters stand?" asked the Squire, persuasively, almost tenderly, breaking the long silence.
Sally gravely nodded her head.
"I see," she answered, in a low tone.
CHAPTER IV.
It was close upon 10 o'clock at night—a late hour for a lonely traveler in this remote locality amid the hills—and Milton Derr was homeward bound. As he neared the vicinity of Alder Creek meeting-house, up in the hill country, another horseman came out of a lane into the public road just as he was passing.
Hailing a fellow voyager, as was the custom of the neighborhood, Derr recognized an acquaintance and promptly checked his horse until the other came alongside.
"Hello, Steve! Isn't it a little late for an honest man to be abroad?" Milton asked, after friendly greeting from his companion.
"Well, yes, and it seems I'm not the only one in that plight," retorted the other, with the quick repartee belonging to these people.
His companion laughed good-naturedly at the thrust, and the two rode on together for some little distance, when Milton Derr, suddenly changing the drift of the talk said:
"Well, I've been thinking over that matter we were speaking about the other day."
"To what purpose?" asked the other.
"I'm in half a notion to become a member of the band."
"The other half's needed before you can get in, you know," answered Steve, laconically.
"Well, I'm nearing that point now," admitted Derr, after a thoughtful pause. "I think I should like to have some voice in this question of free roads myself, as it promises to be an important one."
"In that case I can easily arrange it for you. There'll be but few men around here who won't belong to the band before toll-gate raiding is over," said the other, impressively. "Folks have been bled by fat corporations long enough."
"When could I join?" asked Derr, after some moments of meditative silence.
"When?" echoed his companion. "Tonight, if your mind's made up."
"Well, then, it is," said Derr, decisively. "How am I to go about it?"
"Just follow me. If you really mean business, I can take you straight to where the band is holding a meeting this very night."
"All right," answered the prospective candidate. "Lead the way!"
The two turned into a dirt lane beyond the meeting-house, Derr keeping close by the side of his guide, while the hoofbeats of the two horses suddenly grew muffled by the softer bed of the lane in exchange for the macadamized pike.
There was no moon to light the way, and the faint starlight that had made easily traceable the white, dust-covered surface of the highway was now absorbed and lost in the dull clay of the lane. Where the trees and bushes overhung the path a dense obscurity prevailed. Both man and beast were familiar with night riding along country byways, however, so the two travelers rode rapidly on, unmindful of the darkness or the twisting road.
A mile farther on they quitted the lane, passing through a gate into a fallow field adjoining, which they crossed, and finally came to the outer fringe of a dense thicket.
Here they halted, while Steve, placing his fingers to his lips in a certain manner, blew a low, peculiar whistle, like the call of some sombre night bird, which was answered later from somewhere amid the bushes. Close upon the answering call a dark form emerged from the shadowy copse near at hand, and a voice asked gruffly:
"Who goes there?"
"Friends."
"What are you seeking?"
"Free roads."
"Dismount!"
Steve dropped from his horse and went forward to where the dark form stood, while Derr, with his ears alert and lively interest aroused, heard him announce that he had brought one who craved membership with the band.
After learning the name of the candidate for initiation, the figure seemed to melt into darkness again, while Steve came back to his horse and companion to await the return of the messenger.
"It's all right; come along!" said Steve at another signal from amidst the bushes. The two men quickly hitched their horses to some saplings growing near, and found a narrow path leading down between the underbrush. Steve led the way, Milton following close upon his footsteps, while the mysterious messenger, who wore a half-mask over the upper part