The next instant they were lost in the black background of
that building. Then, as suddenly and a moment later, one of them
reappeared, just for a moment, against the brightly lighted
window,--the southernmost window on the easterward side--the window of
the room that had been Beverly Field's--the window of the room now given
over to Eagle Wing, the Sioux,--the captive for whose safe keeping a
special sentry within the building, and this strangely silent Number Six
without, were jointly responsible. Then that silhouetted figure was
blotted from her sight in general darkness, for the lights within as
suddenly went out.
And at that very moment a sound smote upon her ear, unaccountable at
that hour and that side of the garrison--hoofbeats swiftly coming down
into the hollow from the eastward bluff,--hoofbeats and low, excited
voices. Foster's little house was southernmost of the settlement. The
ground was open between it and the heights, and despite the low,
cautious tones, Esther heard the foremost rider's muttered, angering
words. "Dam fool! Crazy! Heap crazy! Too much hurry. Ought t' let him
call off first!" Then an answer in guttural Sioux.
And then in an instant it dawned upon the girl that here was new crime,
new bloodshed, perhaps, and a plot to free a villianous captive.
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