The Purchase Price Part 21

Out of the confusion at last there might have been heard the voice of Dunwody, calling again for Jamieson. There was work for the surgeon when the dead and injured of both sides at last were brought aboard the little steamer and ranged in a ghastly common row along the narrow deck. "Take care of them, Jamieson," said Dunwody shortly. He himself leaned against the rail.

"You're hurt yourself, Dunwody," exclaimed Jamieson, the blood dripping from his fingers when he half rose. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing--I got a nick in my leg, I think, but I'm all right. See to the others."

Jamieson bent over the body of young Desha, who had been first to suffer here on the debated ground of Missouri. He had been shot through the upper body and had died with little suffering. Of the a.s.sailing party two others also were beyond aid, one a young planter who had joined the party some miles back beyond St.

Genevieve, the other a sallow example of the "poor white trash" who made a certain part of the population of the lower country. Of these both were shot through the head, and death did not at once relieve them. They both lay groaning dully. Jamieson pa.s.sed them swiftly by. The tally showed that of the Missourians three had been killed, four badly wounded, besides the slight wound of Dunwody and that of a planter by the name of Sanders, who had been shot through the arm.

Of the boat party, smaller in the first place though well armed, the loss had been slightly less. Two men had been killed outright and three others badly wounded, of these one, probably, fatally hurt. To all of these Jamieson ministered as best he might. The deck was wet with blood. Silent and saddened spectators, the attacking party stood ranged along the rail on the side next to the sh.o.r.e. On the opposite side were the sullen defenders.

Carlisle, the leader of the boat party, stood silent, with lips tightly compressed, not far from where Dunwody leaned against the rail. He made no comment on the scene and was apparently not unused to such spectacles. Occasionally he bent over, the better to observe the results of the surgeon's work, but he ventured no comment and indulged in no recriminations. His slight but erect figure was military now in its formality. His face was not handsome, but the straight eyes showed fearless. The brow was strong, the nose straight and firm. Once he removed his "wideawake" hat and pa.s.sed a hand through the heavy tangle of his reddish hair. The face was that of a fanatic. It was later not unknown in yet bloodier fighting.

The night faded after all, at last. Along the level of the water's surface came some glints from the eastern sky. The horizon paled slightly. At last a haggard dawn came to light the scene. The shadows of the willow flat opened, and there lay exposed what now was a coast possessed by embattled forces.

"Captain," began Dunwody at last, turning to the commander of the boat forces. "We will be leaving before long. As to you, you will have to turn back. You will take your boat down-stream, if you please."

"It's not as I please," rejoined the other. "You order us back from our journey at your own peril."

"Why argue the matter?" said Dunwody dully. "It would do no good.

We're as much in earnest as you are about it, and we have beaten you. You belong to the army, but these are not enlisted men, and you're not carrying out any orders."

"That part of the argument is plain," rejoined the young officer.

"But you are mistaken if you think you can order me. I'm an officer, and I'm on my own way, and I am, therefore, under orders.

I was following a prisoner late in my charge when I fell in with this party bound up the river, to the Kansas front."

"The courts may take all that up. This is Missouri soil."

"It's no case for courts," answered the other sternly. "This will come before the court of G.o.d Himself."

A bitter smile played over the face of the Missourian. "You preach. Yet you yourself are lawless as the worst law-breakers.

Who made our laws--you, or the whole people of this country? And if G.o.d is your court, why did you have no better aid to-night.

It's the long arm wins. You see, we will fight."

"That I agree. It's force that wins, but not brute force. You will see."

"Argument!" exclaimed Dunwody. "The answer is here at our feet--it's in blood."

"So be it then!" said the other solemnly. "If it means war, let it be war. I admit that we have a fugitive slave on board--a young woman--I suppose that was the excuse for your attack."

"It was the cause of it; and we intend to take her," answered Dunwody. "We didn't intend to use violence unless it was necessary. But as to you, will you take your boat below and out of this country?"

"I will not."

"Very well, then, we'll take you from your own boat, and we'll make her pay the penalty."

"By what right?"

"By the right of the long arm, since you insist."

"You would make us prisoners--without any process of law whatever!"

"You can thresh that out in your own courts later, if you like,"

said Dunwody. "Meantime, we'll see if I can't find a place that will hold you."

"Jamieson," he called out an instant later; "Clayton; come here.

Take the roll of these men," he went on. "If any of them want to drop the thing at this point and go back, let them give parole.

They'll have to agree to leave and never come back here again."

"That's an outrage!" broke out the northern leader. "You and your band of ruffians--you talk as though you owned this state, as though this river weren't made as a highway of this continent.

Don't you know that not even a river can be owned by an entire state?"

"We own this part of it to-day," rejoined Dunwody simply. "This is our judiciary. These are our legislators whom you see." He slapped his rifle stock, touched a revolver b.u.t.t at his belt. "You left the highway when you tied up to our sh.o.r.es. The temper of my men is such that you are lucky to have a parole offered to you.

You deserve not the treatment of soldiers, but of spies. You disgrace your uniform. These men are only fools. But what do they say, Clayton?" he demanded turning to the latter as he finally returned.

"They consider the expedition at an end," returned the Judge.

"Three of them want to go on home to St. Louis. Yates yonder is in favor of hanging them all. The boys are bitter about losing Desha."

Dunwody looked the young leader calmly in the face. "You hear,"

said he. "But you shall see that we are not such ruffians at heart, in spite of all. It's my intention to conclude this matter as decently as possible."

"The others are willing to return," continued Judge Clayton. "They want to know what their captain intends."

"Their captain does not intend to surrender," rejoined the latter fearlessly. "Let those desert who like."

"I am with you, Captain," quietly said a tall young man, of German accent, who had been foremost in the fighting.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I am with you, Captain."]

"Good, Lieutenant Kammerer, I knew you'd stick," commented the leader.

"As to the boat, Judge Clayton," resumed Dunwody, "what shall we do with her?"

"Burned boats tell no tales," here called out young Yates sententiously.

"You hear," said Dunwody. "My men are not children."

"It's piracy, that's all," rejoined the young leader,

"Not in the least, sir," broke in Judge Clayton. "We'll burn her here, tied to this bank on Missouri soil. The river fell during the night--some inches in all--she's hard aground on the sh.o.r.e."

"Fall in, men!" commanded Dunwody suddenly. "Jamieson, fix up my leg, the best you can. It'll have to take its chances, for we're in a hurry. About the paroled men, get them in the rowboats and set them loose. Get your crippled men off the boat at once, Jamieson. This couple of prisoners I am going to take home with me. The rest can go.

"But there's one thing we've forgotten--where's that girl?" He turned to the northern leader.

"She's below, in the cabin."

"Go get her, Clayton," commanded Dunwody. "We'll have to be quick now."

Clayton found his way down the narrow companionway and in the darkness of the unlighted lower deck fumbled for the lock of the cabin. When he threw open the door he found the interior dimly lighted by the low window. At first he could make out nothing, but at last got a glimpse of a figure at the farther side of the little room. "Who's there!" he demanded, weapon ready.