by George Gibbs
CHAPTER XXI
THE INFERNO
The way through the woods was long, but Beth stumbled on, urged by therough tone and strong hand of her captor. She knew the woods well,better than Hawk, but she had never ventured so far into the forest ashe led her. She felt very certain that he knew even less than she of theway he was taking, and that his object in avoiding the roads and pathswhich led to the southward was to keep her hidden from the eyes of anypersons that might be met on the paths between Black Rock and the lumbercamp. But after a while she began to think that he knew with more orless definiteness the general direction in which they were moving, forhe stopped from time to time to look at the sun and get his bearings.And then with a gruff word he would move on again, always to the southand east, and she knew that he had already decided upon theirdestination. With her hands still bound behind her, progress through theunderbrush was difficult, for the branches stung her like whip-lashes,and thorn-bushes caught at her arms and tore her flimsy frock to shreds.The gag in her mouth made breathing painful, but Hawk seemed to beunaware of her sufferings or purposely oblivious of them, for he hardlyglanced at her and said no word except to urge her on to greaterexertion.
When they approached the road which he wanted to cross, he warned herwith an oath to remain where he left her and went forward toinvestigate, after which he returned and hurried her across into thethicket upon the other side. And it was not until they were securelyhidden again far from the sight of any possible passers-by that heuntied the bonds at her wrists and took the gag from her mouth. But sheknew more than ever that she was completely in his power.
He was sinister. He typified terror, physical and mental--and behind thethreat of his very presence lay the gruesome vision of sand and sun andthe bearded man lying with the knife in his back. She tried to summonher native courage to combat her fears, to believe that the situation inwhich she found herself was not so evil as she imagined it--and thatsoon Hawk Kennedy would have a change of heart and give her a chance tospeak in her own behalf. But he silenced her gruffly whenever sheaddressed him and she gave up at last, in fear of bringing his wrathupon her. She could see that he was deeply intent upon his object to gether away from Black Rock where none could find her. And what then?
In a wild impulse--a moment of desperation, she broke away from him andran, but he caught her easily, for by this time she was very tired.Again, she thought of a struggle with him hand to hand, but he read hermind and drew a pistol, pushing her on ahead of him as before,threatening bodily injury. By this time she had learned to believe himcapable of any cruelty. But she thanked God that the dangers thatthreatened were only those which could come from a brutal enemy and inhis very brutality she even found refuge from the other and moreterrible alternative of his amiability. As Hawk had said, he wasn't "onthat lay this trip."
But what his ultimate purpose was she had no means of determining. Sheknew that he was totally without scruple and had thought in her firstmoments of terror that he meant to take her far back into the woods--andthere kill her as he had done her father, thus again destroying allclaim. But as the moments passed and she saw that he had some definiteobjective, the feeble remnants of her courage gathered strength. Herattempt to escape had failed, of course, but his tolerance gave her ahope that he did not dare to do the dreadful violence of which she hadthought.
For hours--it seemed--they went through underbrush and swamp-land,stopping from time to time at Hawk's command while he listened and gottheir bearings. Beth had never been in this part of the woods, but shehad an idea, from the crossing of the road and the character of thetrees, that they were now somewhere in the Lower Reserve and not veryfar from the lumber camp. It was there that Peter Nichols was. Her heartleaped at the thought of his nearness. All memory of the heliotropeenvelope and of its contents seemed to have been wiped from herconsciousness by the rough usage of this enemy to them both. It seemedto matter very little now who this woman was that Peter had known. Shebelonged to a mysterious and unhappy past--for he had hinted atthat--which had nothing to do with the revelation that Beth had read inhis eyes as to the meaning of the wonderful present for them both. Sheknew now that he could have explained, if she had given him the chance.Instead of which she had rushed heedlessly to misfortune, the victim ofa childish pride, plunging them both into this disaster. That pride wasa pitiful thing now, like her disordered hair and her bedraggled frock,which flapped its ribbons, soaked and muddy, about her knees.
But as long as she was still alive and in no immediate danger, she triedto hope for some incident which would send Peter back to Black Rockearlier than Hawk had expected, where, at the Cabin, he would guess thetruth as to her meeting with Hawk and what had followed. But how couldhe guess all that? The difficulty dismayed her, He would hunt for her ofcourse as soon as he learned of her disappearance, but clever as he wasthere seemed no way in which he could solve the mystery of her flight,still less, having guessed Hawk Kennedy's purpose, follow any trailthrough the wilderness by which her captor had led her.
Even in the apparent hopelessness of her situation, she had not reachedthe point of actual despair. Youth and her customary belief in all thatwas good in the world sustained her. Something would happen--something_must_ happen.... As she trudged along, she prayed with her whole heart,like David, to be delivered from the hand of the oppressor.
That prayer comforted her and gave her strength and so when they cameout at the edge of the swamp some moments later she obeyed hisinstructions more hopefully. There was a path along the edge of thewater which presently led into the heart of the woods again, and therealmost before she was aware of it she found herself facing a smallwooden house or shanty which seemed in a fairly good state ofpreservation.
Silently, Hawk Kennedy unfastened the hasp which held the door, andgruffly ordered her to go inside. Wondering, she obeyed him. But hercaptor now acted with a celerity which while it gave her new fears, setother fears at rest, for he took the handkerchiefs from his pockets andgagged and bound her arms and wrists again, pushing her down on a pileof sacking which had served some one for a bed, tying her feet and kneeswith ropes that were there so that she could neither move nor make asound.
There for a moment he stood, staring down at her with a grim kind ofhumor, born of his successful flight.
"Some kid, by G----! I'm kinder sorry--d---- if I ain't. But ye hadn'tany business bein' who ye are. I believe I'd rather kill ye outrightthan hurt ye any more--that I would. Maybe I won't have to do either.Understand? But I got somethin' to do first. It ain't any child's playan' I ain't got much time to spare. Be a good kid an' lie quiet an' goto sleep and I'll be back after a while an' set ye free. Understand?"
Beth nodded helplessly, for it was the only thing that she could do andwith relief watched his evil shape darken the doorway out of which hewent, carefully closing the door and fastening the hasp on the outside.Then she heard the crunch of his footsteps in the dry leaves behind theCabin. They moved rapidly and in a few moments she heard them no more.
Lying on her side, her head pillowed on the bagging, it did not seem atfirst as though she were uncomfortable, and her eyes, wide open, peeredaround her prison. There was a small window unglazed and by the lightwhich came from it she could see some axhandles piled in one corner ofthe hut, several cross-cut saws on a box at one side, a few picks and ashovel or two. It must be a tool house used for the storage of extraimplements and she remembered dimly that Shad had once spoken of thecutting that had been begun down by the swamp and abandoned for a betterlocation. This then was where Hawk Kennedy had taken her and she knewthat it was a spot little visited nowadays except by hunters, and atsome distance from the scene of present logging operations, toward thespur of the railroad. It was here perhaps that Hawk Kennedy had hiddenwhile making his earlier investigations of Black Rock while he ripenedhis plot against Mr. McGuire. There were several empty bottles upon thefloor, a moldy crust of bread, and a broken water-pitcher whichconfirmed the surmise.
She realize
d that Hawk had planned well. It seemed hardly possible tohope for a chance passer-by in this deserted spot. And even if sheheard the sound of guns or even heard footsteps in the leaves, whatchance had she of making known her whereabouts? But she strained herears, listening, only to hear the twittering of the birds, thechattering of squirrels and the moaning of the wind in the tree tops.How near was freedom and yet how difficult of attainment! She wriggledgently in her bonds but each motion seemed to make them tighter, untilthey began to cut more and more cruelly into her tender flesh. She triedby twisting her hands and bending her body to touch the knots at herknees but her elbows were fastened securely and she couldn't reach them.And at last she gave up the attempt, half stifled from her exertions andsuffering acutely. Then she lay quiet, sobbing gently to herself, tryingto find a comfortable posture, and wondering what was to be the end ofit all.
Hours passed in which the scampering of the four-footed things grew lessand less and the birds ceased their chirping. Only the moaning of thewind continued, high in the tree tops. Once or twice she thought sheplainly heard footsteps near by and renewed her efforts to free herself,but desisted again when she learned that it was only the sound of theflying leaves dancing against the outside walls of her prison.
She thought of all the things that had happened in her brief anduneventful life, but most she thought of Peter Nichols, and all that hisvisit to Black Rock had meant to her. And even in her physicaldiscomfort and mental anguish found herself hoping against hope thatsomething would yet happen to balk the sinister plans of Hawk Kennedy,whatever they were. She could not believe that happiness such as hershad been could come to such a dreadful end so soon. But what was HawkKennedy's mission now? Where had he gone unless to Black Rock again? Andwhat would he be doing there? Was revenge his motive now, strongersince her revelation of her parentage? And was it Peter that he wasgoing to...? Her cry was muffled in the bandage. He had gone back toBlack Rock to lie in wait for Peter--to kill him perhaps. Sobbing anewshe struggled again with her bonds, until at last she lay back relaxedand exhausted, and prayed with all her might to the God that had alwaysbeen her guide.
And after a while she grew calm again, refreshed and strengthened by herfaith. No harm would befall Peter. No further harm would come to her.Evil such as Hawk's was powerless against her prayers. Already he haddone her a great injury. The God of her faith would keep her scathelessuntil Peter, the man she loved, came to save her. She was as sure ofthis now as though she could see him coming, vengeance in his hand, withlong strides through the forest to her hiding-place. And so, after awhile, exhausted from her efforts, she fell into a doze.
When she awoke from troubled dreams it was with a sense of suffocation.She had stirred in her sleep and the thongs had cut more deeply into theflesh at her knees, causing her pain. Below the knees she was numb fromthe constant pressure, but she moved her toes up and down and her limbstingled painfully as the constricted blood flowed into her extremities.How long she had lain there she did not know, but the interior of theshed seemed to have grown quite dark, as though a storm were risingoutside. The wind was still blowing, and above the moaning of the pinesshe could hear the continuous rustle of the leaves and the creaking ofmoving branches. She managed with an effort to turn her head toward thewindow, where through the dark leaves of the overshadowing trees shecould catch glimpses of the sky, which seemed to have turned to apinkish purple, like the afterglow of a sunset. Was it possible that shecould have slept so long? In the turning of her head it seemed that thebandage over her mouth had become loosened and as she tried theexperiment again, the handkerchief slipped down around her neck. In amoment she had gotten rid of the wad of linen in her mouth. At least shecould breathe freely now and moisten her parching lips. This boon seemedalmost in answer to her prayers. And if one bandage could come loose byGod's help, why not another?
And so cheerfully and with a persistence which took no thought of thepain she was inflicting upon herself, she began working her hands to andfro behind her until she fancied that the pressure on her wrists was notso great as before. With an effort she managed to wriggle over againstthe wall and so to straighten into a sitting posture.
It was then that she suddenly raised her head and sniffed at the airfrom the small window above her through which a slender wisp of smokecame curling. Smoke! The smell of burning brush, familiar to her, andyet back here in the woods, unless from a well tended camp-fire, fraughtwith perilous meaning. She glanced out of the small opening again. Thepurple had grown redder, a dull crimson shot with streaks of blue--smokeeverywhere, endless streamers and tortuous billows sweeping down on thewings of the wind.
Fire in the woods! She knew the meaning of that. And the reddish purplewas not the sunset but the glow of mighty flames near by, a "crown" firein the pines! From the volume of smoke, increasing with every moment, itseemed that the old tool house in which she was imprisoned must bedirectly in the path of the flames. Now thoroughly aware of her possiblefate if she could not release herself she strained her ears, listening,and now heard distinctly above the sounds nearer at hand a distantcrackling roar and the thud of heavy branches falling. The interior ofthe cabin had now grown even dimmer--to a dark redness--and the smokecame billowing in at the window almost stifling her with its acridfumes. Outside the window, when she struggled for freedom, she caught aglimpse of sparks, flying like meteors past the dim rectangle of hervision, small ones, larger ones, and then flaming brands which must setfire to whatsoever they touched.
She was half mad now with terror. She tried to think calmly, because sheknew that unless a miracle happened she would die alone here--the mosthorrible of all deaths. And then her eye caught the gleam of somethingupon the tool chest in the shadows beyond--the teeth of the cross-cutsaw!
If she could reach it! She fell over purposely on the sacking and withgreat difficulty wriggled slowly toward it, inch by inch. Could shereach it with her wrists? With an effort she squirmed to the chest andstraightened, her back against it, as she had done against the wall, andthen turning, in spite of the increased pressure of her thongs, managedin some way to get to her knees, feeling for the teeth of the saw withher fingers behind her. It was not very sharp, but if she could directit between her wrists it would do.
In her new thrill of hope, she was hardly conscious of the suffocatingsmoke which now filled the cabin, stinging her eyes so that she couldhardly see, or of the heat which with her exertions had sent theperspiration streaming down her face. For now, balancing herself withgreat care, she moved her tortured arms, half numb with pain, up anddown against the rusty edges. A sharp pain and she bit herlips,--readjusting herself to her task. But she felt the saw cuttinginto the rope--one strand, another, and in a moment her hands werereleased.
In her joy of the achievement, she toppled over on the floor, butmanaged to release her elbows. Now, panting with her exertions andmoving her arms quickly to restore the circulation, she felt for theknots at her knees and ankles and in a moment her limbs were free. Butshe had not reckoned with the effects of their long period ofinactivity, for when she tried to get to her feet she found that herlimbs were powerless. But she moved her knees up and down, sufferingkeenly as the blood took up its course, and after a time managed toscramble to her feet, and stagger to the opening in the wall.
It seemed that all the forest was now a mass of flaming brands and thatthe roar of the flames was at her very ears. It was stiflingly hot tooand in one corner of the cabin there was a tiny bright spot and a curlof smoke. Had her liberty come too late? She was not even free yet, forthe hole in the wall of the building was no larger than a single pane ofglass and the door of the shanty was fastened by the hasp on theoutside.
There was no time now to hesitate unless she wished to be burned alive.With an effort she threw herself against the door--again and again, butit would not yield. Despairing and blinded by smoke, she staggered tothe box hunting an ax, when her fingers met the handle of the friendlysaw. It was heavy but she knew how to use it, and set it at
the hole inthe wall, drawing it back and forth. The wood was dead and she felt ityield to the strong teeth of the tool, so that she struggled on, thewidth of the board; then cut again, at the upper edge of the aperture,and in a moment the board fell away.
She was not a moment too soon, for as she crawled through the openingand fell exhausted on the outside, one end of the building suddenlycaught fire, blazing fiercely. The sparks were all around her and herskirt caught fire in the flaming leaves into which she had fallen, butshe put it out with her blistered hands and rose to her feet. A figurewas coming toward her, bent, its hand before its eyes. She could notmake out who it was, but as she turned to run Hawk Kennedy espied her.
"Ho there, kid! Got loose, hey? Just in time. Did ye think I was goin'to let ye be burned to death?"
* * * * *
With Brierly leading them to the machine and listening to Peter's storyas they went, Peter made his way across the foot of the lawn to the roadwhere the machine was waiting for them. As they climbed into it, theglow to the south had turned a lurid red, staining the dusky sky to thezenith. Brierly drove and for precaution's sake Peter sat in the tonneauwith Shad. But the lumberman, if he had ever been considered formidableeven in his own estimation, showed no evidence of any self-confidence.Peter had given him signs of mettle which were not to be denied and likeall bullies Shad knew that he was beaten. The one vestige of hisdecency,--his honorable affection for Beth, which had blinded him toreason and all sense of duty, was now dedicated to the task of savingher. And though the dull hatred of Peter still burned in his breast, theinstinct of self-preservation, and the chance of retrieving himself atthe last, made it necessary for him to put his pride in his pocket andaccept the inevitable.
"Ye'll keep yer word, Mister?" he inquired of Peter, after a moment. "Ididn't have nothin' to do with settin' them woods afire. Ye'll get meout o' this scrape?"
"Yes," said Peter shortly. "I will."
But he watched him nevertheless.
The ex-soldier drove the car at a furious pace over the rough road,rejoicing in the open cut-out and the rush of the wind past his ears. Hehad been, for a time, a chauffeur of a staff car on the other side, andthe present conditions were full of promise of the kind of excitementthat appealed to his youthful spirit. Shad shouted instructions overhis shoulder but Brierly only nodded and sent the car on over thecorduroy to which they had come, with the throttle wide. Night hadnearly fallen but the road was a crimson track picked out with longpencilings of shadow. The wind was still tossing the tree tops andleaves and twigs cut sharply across their faces. There was no mistakingthe danger to the whole of the Lower Reserve unless the wind fell--a"crown" fire after two weeks of drought was not a subject for jest.
But Peter was not thinking of the damage to McGuire's property. Heroared questions eagerly at Wells as to the location of the cabin withreference to the probable course of the flames. The man only shook hishead dubiously, but it was plain that he was considering that danger. Asthey neared the fire they could see the flames clearly now, beyond thepines just before them, which were etched in deeply bitten lines, everyquivering frond in silhouette against the glare.
As the car neared the "Forks," Shad directed Brierly to take the turn tothe left--away from the main road to camp, and they swung into a sandyroad, the wind at their backs, their way for a time almost parallel tothe course of the flames. They passed the small settlement of the"Forks," the few denizens of which were standing beside the road, theirfew household goods packed in barrows and carts, undecided whether ornot the red terror would come their way. The flames were clearly visiblenow, leaping skyward like devils freed from Hell, and so hot was thefire and so high the wind that whole branches were carried high into theair and flaming fell beyond into the cool dark to kindle newdestruction. Anything that lay to leeward of the holocaust was doomed.Peter furiously questioned Wells again, but he only shook his head whilehe anxiously watched the flames as the road converged toward them. Butas the road swung to the left Shad shouted and held up his hand andBrierly brought the car to a stop.
"This is the nearest point, I guess, Mister. From here on to Cranberrytown the road runs to the left of Cedar Swamp."
"Where's the cabin?" queried Peter anxiously.
"In yonder, not far from the edge of the swamp," Shad replied with afrown. "Looks like the fire's pretty near there."
"Come on, then," said Peter quickly. "Brierly, you go back to Black Rockand bring the men here. Follow in. We'll be on the lookout for you."
And leaving Brierly to turn the car, he started off with Shad Wells intothe underbrush. His heart sank as he saw how furiously the fire wasraging and how near it seemed to be. But Shad needed no urging now andled the way with a long stride, Peter following closely. The woods werenot so heavy here and the forest was now as bright as at midday, and sothey made rapid progress, coming out at the end of some minutes at theedge of the swamp, whose burnished pools sullenly reflected the fieryheavens. There they found a path and proceeded more quickly. To Peter'sanxious questions Shad shook his head and only peered before him,forgetting his own suffering in the dreadful danger to which the girlthey sought might be subjected. A terrible thought had come into Peter'smind in the last few moments--that it was Hawk Kennedy who had set fireto the woods after imprisoning Beth in a cabin in the path of theflames. This was his vengeance, terrible in its simplicity--for alighted match in the dry leaves would do the trick, and incendiarism inthe woods was difficult to trace. A vengeance fatal in itseffectiveness, for such a fire would tell no tales. Peter found himselfhoping that it was not to the old tool cabin that Beth had beentaken--that she was even far away from this inferno that lay before him.The glare was already hot on his face and stray breezes which blewtoward him from time to time showed that the wind might be veering tothe eastward, in which case all the woods which they now traversed wouldsoon be afire.
But to the credit of Shad Wells it may be said that he did not hesitate,for when he reached a point in the path where it turned closely alongthe edge of the swamp, he plunged boldly into the woods, directly towardthe flames, and Peter, even more eager than he, ran ahead, peering toright and left for signs of the cabin which now could not be far away.The roar and the crackling were now ominously near and the flames seemedto be all about them, while the tree tops seemed to be filled withflaming brands. Sparks and live cinders fell upon them and the hotbreath of the wind blistered them with its heat.
Suddenly the panting Shad grasped Peter sharply by the arm with hisuninjured hand.
"The cabin! My God! It's burning now----Quick, Mister--or----"
Peter sprang forward through the flaming leaves. He seemed to be in thevery midst of the flames. Blinded and suffocated by the smoke, Peterplunged forward and reached the cabin. One end and side of it wasblazing furiously but he dashed around the lower end of it, seeking thedoor. It was open and already aflame. The hut was empty. He ran outagain, blinded by the smoke and the glare. Was it a fool's errand? Andhad he and Shad only entrapped themselves to no good end? To the rightof him the fire roared and with his back to the glare his eyes eagerlysought the shadows down the wind. Vague shapes of gnarled branches andpallid tree trunks, spectral bushes quivering before the advancingdemon, some of them already alight. Safety lay only in this onedirection--for Beth, if she had been there, for Shad----Peter suddenlyremembered the lumberman and turned to his left to look, when suddenlyhe espied a figure moving away from him and ran after it, calling. Herealized immediately that his hoarse cry was lost in the inferno of theflames, but he ran more rapidly, beating out the embers which hadignited the sleeve of his shirt.
He saw the figure clearly now, but it was not Shad--for Shad had been inhis shirt sleeves. This figure wore a coat and stumbled away half bent,one arm over its head, pushing something--some one ahead of it. Peterdrew his revolver, leaping the burning leaves and calling aloud.
He saw the figures ahead of him halt and turn as they heard his voiceand the glare behind
him shone full upon them, the face of the man agapewith inflamed surprise--Hawk Kennedy's, and the other, wide-eyed as atthe sight of an apparition--Beth's.
Only thirty paces separated them when Hawk Kennedy fired. Peter heardBeth's scream and saw her strike at the man's arm, but furiously heswung her in front of him and fired again. But her struggles and theuncertain light sent the bullet wide. Peter did not dare to shoot forthe man was using her as a shield, but he did not hesitate and ran in,trusting to luck and Beth's struggles. One bullet struck him somewhereas Beth seemed to stumble and crumple to the ground, but he went onunspent and catapulted into his man with a rush that sent them bothsprawling into the smoldering foliage. Blinded by the smoke, but madwith fury, Peter struck and clutched, and Hawk's last shot went upwardfor Peter wrenched his wrist and then struck him full on the head withhis own weapon.
He felt the man relax and slip down into the dust and smoke, where helay motionless.
Peter drew himself up to arm's length, wondering at the feebleness ofhis muscles and the trouble with his breathing.
"Beth!" he gasped, frantically, searching the smoking ground for her.
"Peter--thank God!" Her voice was just at his ear and an arm went aroundhis neck.
"Beth! Beth! You've got to get out of this."
"Come, Peter--there's time----"
Just then a branch crashed down just beside them, showering them withsparks.
"Come, Peter--come!" she cried.
He struggled up with an effort, one hand clutching at his breast.
"Go, Beth!" he gasped. "For God's sake, go!"
Beth stared at him for one short terrible moment as she realized whathad happened to him.
"Peter! You--you're----"
"I--I think I'm hurt--a little--it isn't much."
He swayed but she caught him and put an arm around one shoulder,clutching it with the other hand.
"Lean on me," she muttered. "I'm strong enough----"
"No--go, Beth----"
But she put her strength under him and began walking while he staggeredon beside her. Sparks and fiery brands rained down upon them, blisteringand burning, the hot breath of the furnace drove their breath poisonedback into their lungs and scorched their bodies, but still they remainedupright--and by a miracle still moved on.
"To the left," Peter heard dimly, "the swamp is close by."
He obeyed her, more dead than alive, and by sheer effort of will kepthis feet moving, paced to hers. He seemed to be walking as though in ared fever, on leaden feet, carrying a body that had no weight orsubstance.
But after a while his feet too seemed to grow lighter and he felthimself falling through space. But her arms were still about him.
"Peter," he heard her voice in agony, "only a few yards further----"
With a last remaining effort he struggled and then his feet stumbling,toppled forward and sank into something soft, something deliciously cooland soothing. He felt a hand tugging at him, but he had no pain now, noweakness--only the perfect happiness of a body that, seeking rest, hasfound it.
After a while he revived at the sound of a voice at his ear. Water wassplashing over his face and he struggled up.
"No--keep down," he heard Beth's voice saying. "We're safe, Peter--thewind is changing----"
"And you, Beth----?"
"All right, dear. A little patience----"
The voice trembled, but there was a world of faith in it. After all thathad happened, it was impossible that further disaster should follow now.
"Y-you're all right?" he gasped weakly.
"Yes. Yes. Lie still for a while."
And so they half lay, half crouched in the mud and water, while theinferno swept over them, passing to the south. His head was on herbreast and against his ear he could feel her heart beating bravely, amessage of strength and cheer. From time to time her wet fingers brushedhis hair with water and then, as he seemed to be sinking into a dreamagain, he felt lips light as thistle-down upon his brows.
Death such as this, he thought, was very pleasant.
And then later he was aroused by a shrill clear call.... Then saw lightsflashing.... Heard men's voices.... Felt himself carried in strong arms... but all the while there were soft fingers in his own.
