“Exactly—­that’s my idea.”

“Wal’ then, I’m a prayin’ it starts; I want just one crack et thet Kirby, the ornary cuss.”

We talked the whole matter over in detail, having nothing better to do, and endeavoring to arrange for every probability, yet did not remain together for long.  With my eyes to a chink between the logs I got a view of the interior of the cabin.  The two card players had disappeared, and I imagined they were rolled up in blankets in one corner of the room.  Sal was alone, seated on a stool, her head hanging forward, sound asleep.  Evidently she had received no orders from Rale to keep watch over the movements of either of us, and was not worried on account of our absence.  In all probability the saloon keeper believed the deputy was drunk enough to remain in stupor all night, and he considered my services as bought and paid for.  He had traded with derelicts of my apparent kind before.

I felt nervous, anxious, eager for action.  The time dragged horribly.  If I could only be accomplishing something; or if I knew what was occurring elsewhere.  What if something unforeseen should occur to change Rale’s plan?  Suppose, for instance, those fellows should decide to force the marriage tonight, instead of waiting until after arrival at Jenkins’ Crossing?  Suppose she resisted them, and was injured?  A suspicion came to me that I might have misunderstood all this.  My God! if I only knew where it was they had concealed the girl.

The two of us explored about the silent cabin, but discovered nothing.  There was no light visible in the rear room, nor any sound of movement within.  The two windows were closed, and the door locked.  We found a convenient stump in the woods, and sat down to wait, where we could see all that occurred about the cabin.  The distant camp fires had died down, and only occasionally did any sound, generally far away, disturb the silence.  The night was fairly dark, the stars shining brightly enough, but dense beneath the trees; yet we managed to locate the nearer sentries by their voices when they reported posts.  None were stationed close by.  Everything indicated that we were safely outside the lines of camp.  We conversed in whispers, until Tim, still influenced by his excessive drinking, became sleepy, and slid off the stump onto the ground, where he curled up on a pile of leaves.  I let him lie undisturbed, and continued my vigil alone, feeling no inclination to sleep, every nerve throbbing almost painfully.  Three or four men straggled into the saloon while I sat there, coming from the direction of the camp, and were doubtless waited upon by Sal.  None remained long within, and all I saw of them were indistinct figures revealed for a moment, as the light streamed out through the opened door.  One seemed to be an officer, wrapped in a cavalry cloak—­hunting after men out of bounds, possibly—­but, later than eleven o’clock, there were no more callers.  Soon after that hour the light within was turned low.