Dorothy Dale's Camping Days Part 7

"The bandit!" she gasped in a whisper.

He had his hand on Cricket's rein!

"Drop that!" she shouted. "You need not think I am afraid of you now!"

"What?" asked the boy, dropping his disguise like a thing held by one single fastening and moving as if to spring up into the saddle.

Dorothy fairly jumped over the tall gra.s.ses, and was beside the horse before the boy could mount. She grasped the bridle, and, at the same time, more firmly grasped her riding crop.

"Now I have you," she declared, gazing in wonderment at the very good-looking boy who tried in vain to escape from the stirrup in which his boot had stuck. Seeing her opportunity, Dorothy dropped the bridle and crop, and, with both hands, grasped the boy very much in the same manner as he had seized her the day before.

"Let me go!" he snarled, struggling to free himself.

"Not just now," replied Dorothy, coolly, for she saw that she was quite able to hold him, and that he was really only a very slight young boy. "I am going to have a try at your game," she added, smiling at her versatility.

The boy almost fell under the horse, but Cricket was so well trained that he did not attempt to go beyond Dorothy's orders.

"Steady, Cricket!" she said softly. "Now young man," to her prisoner, "I am going to do something very original. I am going to tie you to that pretty tree."

"You are not!" he yelled, but she had her whip in her hand and she raised it threateningly.

"I don't want to strike you," she said, "but you know prisoners must obey. Just step over there a foot or two!"

There was such authority in her voice that the boy looked up frightened.

"Don't hit me," he pleaded, "and I'll go!"

This was more than Dorothy expected, and as the lad moved to obey, she raised, with her foot, the rope he had dropped with his disguise, and grasped it in her hand with the riding crop.

"You see school girls learn a lot about 'team work,'" she said. "We have to do it in all sorts of games."

"What are you going to do with me?" asked the boy, who actually seemed more interested than frightened.

"Well, first I am going to make you secure. See, I just slip this rope around you--you had it all ready with that slip knot," and she put it over his head before he had a chance to protest. It fell over his hands, and she pulled the cord tight. Then, as he was standing near the tree, she dropped the rope to his feet, gave it a jerk, and springing around the tree she had him secure with two turns of the hemp, and a knot made after the style of one Nat had showed her how to fas.h.i.+on.

The boy burst out laughing.

"You're all right!" he declared. "You beat me! Where did you learn?"

"Oh, I often played bandit with my brothers, but never with a stranger before. Aren't you afraid? Don't you want to say your prayers?"

"I've forgotten them," he said with a smile. "Guess I forgot them when I started in at this--the two don't hitch."

"Not exactly," and Dorothy was fixing the rope more tightly. "But you did know some once. I can tell."

"How?" he asked.

"Because you don't swear. Didn't even when you cut your hand. How is it?"

"Sore," he replied. "Please don't pa.s.s the rope over the bandage."

"I won't," answered Dorothy with some tenderness.

The humor of the situation was apparent to both of them.

Dorothy, however, was determined not to relent, she would hold him a prisoner, she decided, until she found the boys. They would know best what to do. Certainly such a desperado was unsafe to be at large.

"Are you going to make the fire now?" he asked, in a mocking tone.

"No, I am just going to jump on my horse and leave you here to think of your sins. I am sure you will be here when I come back."

"Oh please, miss, don't go for the police," he begged, tears welling into his deep blue eyes. "I have never done anything wrong before--and I can see, now, how silly I was."

"I am not going after the officers," said Dorothy, "but you must know that you have done very wrong--you might have hurt me seriously."

"Oh, please let me go!" he pleaded. "I will promise you anything, and I never want to play Wild West again!"

"It was too real for play," retorted Dorothy. "But you need not be too alarmed. My cousins are good boys."

"Your cousins?"

"Yes, the White boys. Do you know them?"

"Ned and Nat? Of course I do! Oh, don't tell on me! Really I shall be disgraced forever."

He was crying. Dorothy felt herself weakening.

"I'll tell you where everything is, and I'll promise you anything in the world if you will only not--give me up. I can't bear to think of--poor mother. I could stand it--but she----"

"Is she ill?" and Dorothy quickly counted what a disgrace it would be to a good mother to find her son in such a plight.

"Yes, she is away from me all the time--with the nurses, and I haven't seen her in a week. It would kill her to know what I've been doing."

"Who takes care of you?" asked Dorothy. "Whom do you play with?"

"Oh, father is away, and I have plenty of money to buy guns and things. Then I go to plays a lot."

This was the sequel to the story, Dorothy thought. Would it possibly be safe for her to take the boy's word, and let him go? As he said he would be disgraced, and perhaps her kindness to him might be his clearest lesson.

How good-looking he really was! Even standing there, tied, his clear face, and light hair, could not be undervalued, from the point of fine looks.

Somehow he was just a bit like Roger--that same round baby face, and that one unmanageable curl that would hang down on his forehead in spite of years, and in spite of barbers.

"I'll tell you where I put all the things," he fairly sobbed, "and I'll give them all back, if you will only give me one more chance. I remember the Bible always gave folks a second chance."

Dorothy could not repress a smile. Yes, that was true--the Bible taught forgiveness.

"Quick! They're coming!" he pleaded. "Untie me, and I--I'll run."