Montana Abbott 8 by Al Cody

Author:Al Cody [Cody, Al]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, fiction, gold rush, Montana, Piccadilly Publishing, Pulp fiction writing, Wild West, Western series
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

STARTLING AND UNEXPECTED, the whistle blared, then subsided, and the lesser sound of the river craft was faintly audible, the chum and thresh of the paddle-wheel driving against the current. Straining his eyes, Abbott glimpsed a faint, darker hulk against the sheen of light which slanted on the river. The packet was perhaps half a mile distant, well out toward the middle of the stream, down-current. A few lights dipped and bobbed like fireflies as the Star shoved against the flood tide, making fairly good progress, profiting by the straight, untrammeled stretch.

He could feel the transformation in his companions as hope coursed in his own veins. Until now it had seemed impossible that they could elude their enemies and keep alive much beyond daylight; trail’s end held no promise. Now the Star was a chance, a possibility, however distant, and their hopes were enhanced by the sounding of the siren.

There had to be a reason for it to signal at such a time and place. The motive might be its hope of meeting the down-swinging Belle, though along so straight a stretch the two boats could hardly avoid seeing each other, even in the night.

Then he had the answer, as he glimpsed something on shore, farther downstream, almost opposite the laboring craft—a flare of light which suddenly blazed in a desperation signal. In the revealing glow of the flames, dim figures capered and waved, as though performing incantations. They could only be the captain of the Belle and his boat crew, who apparently had made it that far with the small boats.

Whether they had met with disaster and been forced to land, or had done so at the first opportunity, they almost certainly were stranded like Montana and his companions. The canyons below were no fit thoroughfares for small boats.

Risking a signal fire was dangerous, but probably not so dangerous as it would have been to allow the Star to go past, leaving them stranded, with daylight promising discovery and disaster.

There was the possibility of an attack coming before they could be taken on board, but they were taking that chance. The Star was swinging in, risking a trick or possible ambush. Molly’s fingers closed convulsively on Abbott’s arm.

“Isn’t there something that we can do … anything?” Her voice broke in desperation.

Here was their only hope, almost at hand, yet impossibly out of reach. Even had the Star of the West been as fair and honest a craft as wayfarers would have a right to expect, their chances of reaching the present rendezvous and being taken aboard along with the others were virtually at the zero point. For the war party, with whom they had so briefly mingled, was between them and that landing.

Like Russell and his men, they might light a signal fire, but he rejected the idea. Even if the Star responded with the best will in the world, the Sioux would be ahead of them. Surprise and time would work against rather than for them, in this second instance.

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