everyone inside would be gathered at that end, closest to the fireplace. He angled the other way, toward the right end.
Now he was right under the eyes of any watchers inside, so he moved a fraction of an inch at a time. It had been long enough so that Salty and Conway had to be in position and ready. Unless something had happened to delay them, Frank reminded himself…but he wasn’t going to think about that. Just like he wasn’t going to think about the possibility that one of the kidnappers could be drawing a bead on him right now…
He reached the corner of the cabin and brushed some snow away to reveal the logs that had been used as its foundation. He pushed the can of kerosene up against them and shoved some snow under the back side of it to tilt it a little toward the wood. Then he got the matches out, struck one, and lit the wick.
A blue flame sprang up, and with it the smell of the fuel burning. Frank hoped the scent of the wood burning in the fireplace inside would mask the kerosene odor. Since the can was sitting at an angle, the flame licked directly at the log foundation. Frank watched until he saw smoke start to curl up from the wood; then he began to back away.
The cabin was old and the wood was dry. Once the logs caught fire, the flames started to spread rapidly, clawing their way up the side of the wall. Frank slid his hands under the long underwear and wrapped them around the grips of the revolvers. More than half the wall on this end of the cabin was on fire. The men inside the place had to notice it soon.
Sure enough, a moment later shouts of alarm rose inside the cabin, and the door flew open. Men began to rush out, and just as Frank had thought might happen, each of them held a struggling woman as a human shield.
But when he sprang to his feet, he was right there among them, taking them completely by surprise. He thrust both arms to the sides, the Colt in his right hand, the .32 in his left, and fired simultaneously. Each barrel was almost touching the head of a kidnapper, and both men probably never knew what hit them as bullets slammed through their skulls and into their brains. They collapsed, letting go of the screaming women they had been holding.
Frank shouted, “Dog! Hunt!” Then he whirled and fired both guns again. Two more men fell. It was chaos in front of the burning cabin now, and Frank was like a phantom gliding through it, the guns in his hands spitting death. Men dropped with slugs in their heads or blood fountaining from bullet-torn throats. The close range allowed him to place his shots perfectly without hitting the women. Frank heard the heavier crash of rifles, along with growling and snarling, and knew that Salty, Conway, and Dog were getting into the fight, too. The sled dogs, tied up a short distance from the cabin, barked and yelped crazily, adding to the noise.
“Shoot the women!” one of the men yelled. Frank put a bullet in his mouth while it was still open from that shouted order. He bulled to the side, barreling into another kidnapper and knocking him away from the hostage he’d been holding. As the man fell, Frank snapped two shots from the smaller revolver into his face.
“Frank!”
That was Fiona’s voice. Frank whipped around and saw her trying to run as one of the kidnappers drew a bead on her with a pistol. Frank fired both guns without hesitation. The bullets punched into the man’s body and drove him backward over the threshold into the burning cabin, which was fully ablaze by now. The flames engulfed the man, filling the air with the stench of roasting human flesh.
The rest of the gunfire had died away, but as Frank turned from the cabin, he heard the sounds of struggle still going on. He saw Pete Conway and one of the kidnappers trading punches, slugging away at each other. A few yards away on the ground, Salty Stevens was wrestling with one of the men. Salty was on the bottom, doing his best to hold off the hatchet that the kidnapper was trying to bring down in his face. Salty’s hand was locked around the man’s wrist, but the kidnapper was younger, bigger, and stronger, and Frank knew the old-timer couldn’t hold out much longer.
Both revolvers clicked as the hammers fell on empty chambers when Frank tried to shoot the man, though. Frank dropped the guns and launched himself in a diving tackle that knocked the man off of Salty. They rolled through the snow, grappling desperately.
Frank saw starlight wink off the head of the hatchet as it slashed toward his face. He jerked his head aside so the hatchet hit the ground instead and bounced back up. With a grunt of effort, Frank stuck a foot in the man’s belly and heaved him up and over his head. The kidnapper howled in surprise as he found himself flying through the air. He lost his grip on the hatchet as he crashed down on his back.
Frank was there to snatch up the weapon. He brought it up and over in a looping strike that buried the razor- sharp head in the center of the kidnapper’s forehead. The man spasmed as the keen, cold steel sunk deep into his brain, then went limp. Frank left the hatchet where it was and stood up.
When he looked around, he saw that the fight was over. The bodies of the kidnappers lay sprawled around the area in front of the burning cabin. The light from the flames turned the snow a garish red, but it was a deeper crimson where blood had been splashed. He tugged the white cloth off his head and stood there with his chest heaving and his breath pluming in front of his face.
Meg ran up to him and threw her arms around him. “Frank!” she cried. “Frank, I knew you’d come for us!”
He held her and looked over her shoulder at the other women. Some of them seemed to be disoriented. They were wandering around crying. But as he counted them, including Meg and Jessica Harpe, who was being embraced by Conway, he saw that all eleven of them were there, on their feet and apparently unhurt. Salty was all right, too. He picked up his rifle and started checking on the bodies of the kidnappers, making sure that all of them were dead.
“How many men were there?” Frank asked Meg. He wanted to be certain that none of them had gotten away.
“T-ten, I think,” she replied. “Not counting that awful little man Dixon. He already went back to Skagway to tell Smith that they had captured us and were laying a trap for you.” She smiled at him. “But I knew you wouldn’t fall for it, Frank. I knew you’d figure out some way to save us.” She paused. “I just didn’t know it would involve running around in your underwear.”
Frank glanced down at himself and chuckled. Before, he had been so caught up in carrying out the plan that he hadn’t really thought about how cold it was. Now he realized that he was frozen clear through. At least, he would have been if not for the heat coming from the burning cabin.
Salty came over to him and said, “They’re all dead.”
“Ten of them?”
“Yep, countin’ the feller just inside the door of the cabin. Ain’t much o’ him left, though.”
