Buch lesen: «Three Young Ranchmen: or, Daring Adventures in the Great West», Seite 8

CHAPTER XXII.
An Important Capture

Of course Paul made a prompt retreat. It would have been worse than useless, just then, to have remained where he was, with his hands on the stockade gate.

The party outside could not see Captain Grady, but from the direction of his voice they knew he was on the other side of the stockade at a point where several peep and gun holes covered the entrance.

"That's right, you better git back!" went on the captain, as Paul retreated.

"See here, Grady, what does this mean?" demanded Caleb Dottery, as he advanced in the direction of the guard openings.

"It means that I have got possession of this ranch, which rightfully belongs to me, and I mean to keep it," was the grim reply, delivered with great force and distinctness.

"The Winthrop boys deny yer rights."

"That makes no difference. I know what's what."

"Open the gate and let us talk it over quietly," went on Dottery, who was naturally a peaceably inclined individual.

"I'm not opening the gate just now. Those boys can go away. I don't mind you coming around, but I don't want those boys here."

"Well, you'll have to put up with us," cried Chet, angrily. "Now, open the gate, or we'll smash it down!"

"Don't be rash, Chet!" whispered Paul.

"You monkey!" roared Captain Grady. "Fall back, before I let you have a dose of buckshot!"

"There will be no shooting here, Captain, unless ye want ter get wiped out," broke in Jack Blowfen. "Open the gate fer yer neighbors and let us hev a powwow."

"I've told you wot I'll do – open up when the boys go away."

"Come on, Chet," whispered Paul to his younger brother.

"Yes, but Paul – "

"Come on, I say," and Paul whispered something into Chet's ear.

At once, with a wink at Jack Blowfen, the two boys started off on a gallop toward the river.

"Do you think we can do it?" asked Chet, anxiously.

"I think so. We can try, anyway."

Dismounting, the brothers made their way to where a deep ditch drained from the ranch home under the stockade into the river. The ditch was almost dry and was all but choked up with weeds and brush.

"Now, Chet, it is a serious undertaking, but you know we must take some chances," went on Paul, as they let themselves down into the ditch. "The captain may really shoot at us, although I think he will hardly dare do it with Blowfen and Mr. Dottery at hand to see that justice is done."

"If he shoots, we'll shoot back," replied Chet. "He has no right on our land, and, besides, we must do something for Uncle Barnaby's sake."

Full of determination, and realizing that a crisis was at hand, the two boys wormed their way along the ditch until the stockade was reached.

Here a few wooden bars blocked the way. But one of the bars was loose and was wrenched aside, and they went on.

"We must be careful, in case any one is in the house," said Paul in a whisper.

The ditch led around to the rear of the ranch home. But here it went underground and they were compelled to leave it and take to the grass.

They gave a brief look and saw Captain Grady down by the opening in the stockade, still arguing with Dottery and Blowfen. He looked anxious.

"He don't see us," whispered diet. "Come, the front door is open!" and he made a quick dash for the house, followed closely by Paul.

The door was closing on the pair when Captain Grady started around and beheld Paul's form from the rear. He gave a quick cry of alarm.

"Stop! Come out!"

"Too late, Captain Grady!" called back Paul, facing about and aiming at the man with his gun. "Now, just you go and open the stockade gate!"

"Thar ain't no need o' thet!" cried the voice of Jack Blowfen. "Well done, boys; I give ye credit."

And over the stockade vaulted the cowboy, leaping from his saddle to the grass on the other side.

Captain Grady knew not which way to turn, and before he could decide the gate was unbarred and Caleb Dottery rode in.

In the meantime Chet had taken a hasty glance through the house and satisfied himself that Captain Grady was really alone. There was evidence that several visitors had been there but recently – a number of unwashed dishes and drinking glasses.

Chet returned to the doorway and beheld Captain Grady in Jack Blowfen's strong grasp. The firearm had been wrenched from the captain and hurled a dozen feet away.

"This – this is an outrage!" puffed the captain in a great rage.

"So is the way ye set up to treat neighbors," replied the cow puncher, coolly. "Why didn't ye leave us in like gentlemen an' thus avoid all trouble?"

The captain glared at him.

"What does this mean?" he demanded sullenly after a pause.

"Can you hold him, Blowfen?" asked Paul, anxiously.

"I reckon, Paul; but maybe ye might better keep him covered with yer gun."

"This means that we have come to take possession of our own," put in Chet. "We told you that we would be back."

"It's ag'inst the law, and I'll have the sheriff on you!" shouted Captain Grady wrathfully.

"We'll chance that," said Paul. "March into the house, please. We want to question you a bit on another matter," he continued.

Captain Grady started. "What matter?" he asked in a lower tone of voice.

"About our uncle, Barnaby Winthrop."

"Don't know nothing of him," was the reply, and as he spoke Captain Grady's hand moved up to his inside breast pocket.

Instantly Jack Blowfen leaped upon the rascal and bore him to the earth.

CHAPTER XXIII.
News of Importance

"Don't be alarmed; he is not going to shoot," cried Paul.

"Don't ye make too shure o' thet," ejaculated the cowboy. "Wot's he puttin' his hand into his pocket fer?"

"He has something there I fancy he wishes to conceal," went on Paul. "Empty the pocket, please."

"Let me go! This is highway robbery!" stormed Captain Grady.

He struggled fiercely to regain his feet. But Blowfen was the stronger of the pair and he easily held the rascal down with one hand, while with the other he brought several letters from his inside pocket.

Paul eagerly snatched the letters, in spite of the captain's protest. He glanced at them, with Chet looking over his shoulder.

"Well, what do you make out?" asked Caleb Dottery. He didn't quite like the way matters were turning.

"I think we will be safe in making Captain Grady a prisoner," replied Paul slowly.

"Yes, make him a prisoner by all means," put in Chet. "He is a villain if ever there was one. If we can't prove it I think my Uncle Barnaby can."

At the reference to Barnaby Winthrop Captain Grady grew pale. It was evident that his sins were at last finding him out.

It did not take Jack Blowfen long to act upon Paul's suggestion. He disarmed the captain and made him march into the house, where he bound the fellow in very much the same manner as Dottery had bound Jeff Jones.

While he was doing so Paul showed the letters taken from the prisoner to Caleb Dottery. Chet, while a second reading was going on, commenced to ransack the house.

The captain had moved but a few things into the ranch home – a couple of chairs, a table, a bed, and an old hair trunk. The trunk Chet opened without ceremony.

More letters were found there – documents which told only too plainly what manner of man the captain was. Chet smiled to himself to think how foolish the rascal had been not to have destroyed the epistles.

"But the greatest of villains occasionally over-reach themselves," he said to Paul. "I fancy this is proof enough to show what an awfully bad man Captain Grady is."

"You are right, Chet," said Dottery, after a careful examination. "He is a hoss thief as great as was old Sol Davids, and he is trying to rob yer uncle out of a mine claim as well."

"Not only that, but as Jeff Jones said, he is with the crowd who holds my uncle a prisoner, sir. That, to me is the worst part of it."

"I don't know but what ye are right."

The captain was raising such a row that to quiet him Jack Blowfen threw him bodily into a dark closet and turned the key on him.

"Now if ye don't quit yer noise, I'll gag ye in the bargain," said the cowboy, and thereupon the captain became quiet at once.

It was now quite in line to hold a council of war, as Paul termed it. But before this was done all hands went to work to move the Winthrop household effects back to where they belonged.

This was accomplished in a short space of time, and was productive of an accident which, while not excessively serious, was still of sufficient importance to cause a decided change in their plans.

In moving in an old, heavy bedstead Caleb Dottery allowed the end he held to slip from his grasp. A sharp corner came down on his ankle, twisting it severely. He cried with pain and work was at once suspended.

The ankle was bandaged, but it was found the old ranch owner could not walk, nor could he move about with any degree of comfort. He was placed on a couch and there he remained.

The four talked matters over for a long while. In one of Captain Grady's letters was mentioned a certain cave in the vicinity of what was then known as the Albany Claim. The boys fancied that their uncle might be a prisoner in that cave.

"Well, I dunno but what ye are right," mused Jack Blowfen. "It's sartinly wuth going to see."

"Then you advise us to go?" asked Paul, eagerly.

"Yes, and I'll go with ye."

"But Mr. Dottery," began Chet.

"I'll stay whar I am an' watch the captain," groaned the old ranch owner. "It's about all I'm good for jes' now."

"The old Albany Claim is a good stiff forty miles an' more from hyer," said Jack Blowfen. "But I know the road over the second foothills perfectly. So if ye say the word any time we'll start."

"It looks like rain just now," said Paul.

"An' ye'll catch it heavy, too," put in Dottery.

"We'll have to look after the cattle, too," added Chet. "Like as not half of them are in the sink hole."

"I'll help ye with the stock," said Blowfen.

That evening it rained in torrents, but only for a short while. By midnight it was as clear as it could be. Long before sunrise the boys and Blowfen were out on the range looking up the heads belonging to the Winthrops.

They were gratified to find that all the stock was safe with a single exception. That was an old cow who had been caught in the cyclone and killed. Not one of the four-footed beasts had gone anywhere near the sink hole.

When let out of the closet Captain Grady begged hard for his liberty. But the boys were obdurate and Caleb Dottery backed them up, as did Jack Blowfen.

"Ye have done wrong an' must suffer," said the latter, and there the matter rested.

By nine o'clock the two boys and Blowfen were off. They took with them enough provisions to last several days, as the journey upon which they were about to enter would be for the greater part through a dry and unproductive section. This same section has now been made, by a system of irrigation, very productive.

"And now to find Uncle Barnaby and bring our enemies to terms!" cried Paul, as they rode out of the stockade.

"So say I, and may uncle be found well," added Chet.

"Amen," murmured Jack Blowfen.

CHAPTER XXIV.
Something about Barnaby Winthrop

"My uncle a prisoner about ten miles from here?" repeated Allen Winthrop, after Lou Slavin had made his confession.

"Will you shut up?" howled Bluckburn, savagely. "You'll spoil everything."

"An' he'll save hisself from bein' lynched," added old Ike Watson, suggestively.

"We haven't done anything – you can't hold us," spluttered Bluckburn. He found himself in a bad corner.

"Holding a man a prisoner is nothing, I presume," said Allen, in deep anger. "Go on," he continued to Slavin. "Where is my uncle?"

Thus urged, Lou Slavin blurted out a full confession, telling how Barnaby Winthrop had been followed to San Francisco by Bluckburn, who wanted to learn the secret of the new claim, which Bluckburn realized must be valuable.

Slavin said it was Bluckburn who had sent to Barnaby Winthrop a forged letter calling the old prospector back to the ranch. The rascal had also forged the note received by Noel Urner.

Word had been sent by telegraph to the other members of the thieving band, and when Barnaby Winthrop got off at the nearest railroad station to the ranch he was followed and waylaid.

"The crowd had a mighty hard time o' it with him, he fit so," went on Slavin. "Onct he nearly got away, but Captain Grady tripped him up an' then he war bound tight."

"Captain Grady!" ejaculated Allen.

"Thet's his size," cried old Watson. "I allers allowed as how he war one o' the shady class."

"He – he led the whole business," put in Bluckburn. He began to think it time to clear himself. "I only acted under his orders."

"It's too late fer ye ter open yer mouth," was the way Ike Watson cut him short. "Go on, Slavin. Whar's Barnaby Winthrop? Straight, now, remember."

Thus admonished, Slavin told the location of the cave in which the old prospector was held, as well as he was able.

"I don't know the lay o' the land exactly, but I'm comin' purty nigh it."

"Would you know the spot if you were in the vicinity?" asked Allen, eagerly.

"I think I would."

"Then we must take him along," said the young ranchman to Ike Watson. "But what shall we do with Bluckburn?"

"He ought ter be lynched right now," was the old hunter's stern reply. During his days among the rough characters of the mountains he and his companions had had small use for jails and lockups. The law of the land, so called, was administered on the spot.

A long discussion followed, which ended in a determination to take Bluckburn back to Daddy Wampole's place. They would leave him there a prisoner, and then take Slavin along with them, that he might locate Barnaby Winthrop's place of confinement.

Bluckburn was secured on his horse's back, and Slavin was disarmed, and in less than half an hour the return to the crossroads hotel was begun.

It was a long and tedious ride to Allen who was impatient to be off to find his uncle. But it could not be helped, and Allen bore it as patiently as he was able.

Daddy Wampole was as much surprised as he well could be to see them ride up with their prisoner. He listened with deep interest to the tale Allen, Watson, and Noel Urner had to tell.

"Yes, I'll keep him a prisoner," he said at the conclusion. "An' take my word on it, he shan't escape."

"And it won't be long before we have Captain Grady, too," said Allen, never dreaming of what was taking place at home in the meanwhile.

Bluckburn was exceedingly downcast over his turn of fortune. He insisted that Captain Grady was totally to blame, but this statement no one felt inclined to believe.

Slavin showed himself more than willing now to do all in his power to redeem himself and his reputation. Yet neither Ike Watson nor Allen could trust him with so much as a pistol.

"You jes' ride on ahead, an' if thar's any trouble we'll look out fer ye," was the way Watson put it, and with this Slavin had to be content.

A long and exceedingly rough journey now lay before the three, a journey destined to try their patience to the utmost.

"But we will have to make the best of it," said Allen. "And I don't care what we have to put up with so long as we find my uncle safe and sound."

"Thet's the talk," answered Watson. "Can't expect ter have every comfort out in these yere parts nohow."

The sun had been shining brightly, but presently the sky became overcast.

"Unless I am mistaken we are close to a storm," observed Noel, as he surveyed the heavens anxiously.

"Thet's wot," came from Watson. "An' I allow as how it will be a putty heavy one when it comes."

"We've had storms enough lately," said Allen. "I want no more of them."

They continued on their way as rapidly as the nature of the ground to be covered permitted. Occasionally Slavin grumbled at being pushed on so fast but Watson soon put a stop to his mutterings.

"No ust ter grumble, Slavin," he said. "Ye kin be thankful thet ye wasn't shot down like a dog."

"But I'm not feelin' well," pleaded the evil doer.

"Ain't ye? Wall, what ye want is exercise," was Watson's sarcastic rejoinder. "So trot along, an' no more parley about it," and Slavin went along, but with a face that looked far from pleasant.

Half an hour later the raindrops began to fall, at first scatteringly and then in a steady downpour. It was a cold rain and made one and another of the little party shiver.

"I must say I don't like this," said Allen, when he was more than half soaked through. "I wonder if we can't find shelter until the worst of this is over?"

"Perhaps we can," said Noel. "Although I don't see many large trees handy."

"Might be as how's thar's a cave around," said Watson. "Anyway, we'll keep our eyes peeled fer one."

This they did and a quarter of a mile further on came to something of a cliff overlooking a rocky valley. At the base of the cliff were a number of rough openings and one of these openings led to a cave of no mean size.

"Jes' the ticket!" cried Watson, as he dismounted and entered the opening. "We can stay here all night an' by thet time the storm will be a thing o' the past. We ain't none too soon either," he added.

Watson was right, for scarcely had all of the party entered the cavern than the storm let down in all of its fury. The landscape was blotted out and all became darker than ever.

"Ye set down on thet rock," commanded Watson to Slavin. "An' don't ye dare ter stir if ye know when yer well off."

"I ain't stirrin'," growled the prisoner.

Nevertheless, although he spoke thus, Slavin had his eyes wide open. He intended to escape if it were possible to do so, fearing that all would not go well with him even though he had confessed to his captors.

CHAPTER XXV.
Fighting a Wolverine

"I think we had better make a fire," suggested Allen, after the horses had been tied up in a place that was comparatively dry.

"Right ye air, Allen," returned Watson. "Pervidin' we can find some firewood."

"Here is a tree branch," said Noel, pointing it out in a dark corner of the cavern. "But we may have some trouble in breaking it up."

"Ho! ho!" laughed Watson. "It's easy ter see ye ain't very strong. We'll break thet up in a jiffy; eh, Slavin?"

"What do ye want?" growled the prisoner.

"Want ye ter help break up some firewood."

"Me?"

"Persackly, Slavin. Reckon as how ye want ter git as warm as anybody. Wall, ye kin start in by doin' some work."

Slavin demurred but his protest was unavailing and soon he and Watson were breaking up the large part of the tree branch, Noel looking on in wonder and Allen assisting on the smaller portions.

"My, but you are strong," said Noel, in open admiration. "I'd give a good deal for your muscles."

"Ye'll get the same, if ye stay out hyer long enough," answered Watson, "It's the mountain air as does it."

"Oh, come, Watson, you know you are extra strong," put in Allen. "Why, he can do some wonderful things when he wants to." To this Watson made no reply, but the grin on his face showed that he appreciated the compliment.

Soon they had a roaring fire, which threw grotesque shadows on the cavern walls. All drew closer to enjoy the warmth, and they prepared a meal to which even Slavin did full justice.

They questioned the prisoner closely and he said he felt certain he was on the right trail. But he was shy about saying more. He was wondering if the coming night would offer any opportunity of escaping.

"I'll get away if I can," he thought. "And if so I must lose no time in warning Mangle and Nodley. If I don't they'll be running into a trap, and my share of that stolen money will be lost."

After the meal Allen and Watson remained near the entrance to the cave, to talk over the situation and speculate upon what the day following would bring forth.

Slavin wanted to join them, but Allen ordered him back.

"You go back to the fire," he said. "If you want to go to sleep you may do so."

"Don't trust me even yet, do ye?" muttered the prisoner.

"I do not."

"Ye're rather hard on a chap wot is trying ter do ye a good turn."

"It remains to be seen if it is a good turn or not, Slavin. You may be putting up a job on us."

"No, I swear it's all right, Winthrop. Ye'll find everything jest as I told ye."

"Perhaps. But you go back to the fire," and Slavin went back, but with a look on his face that rivaled the black clouds in the heavens outside.

Soon the prisoner was curled up close to the fire and he closed his eyes as if in slumber, but he kept as wide awake as before.

While Allen and Watson were talking at the entrance to the cavern, Noel, out of idle curiosity, procured a torch from the camp fire and went on a tour of observation.

The cavern proved to be a narrow and rambling affair, being nothing more or less than a split in the mountain side. The floor was uneven and back from the entrance arose in a series of rough steps.

Up these steps climbed the young man until he had gained a position fully fifty feet above the mouth of the cavern.

At a great distance he heard the falling of water, as the rain swept over some rocks at a rear entrance to the cavern.

Curious to see where the cavern led to be continued his climbing until the light of the camp fire was left far behind.

His torch was burning low but he whirled it into a blaze and went on once more.

Occasionally he slipped, for the rocks were now wet, but this did not daunt him.

At last he reached a spot where the water was flowing in a miniature waterfall. There was an opening over his head but it was out of reach.

"This must be a pretty place in the daylight," he mused. "What grand scenery on every hand throughout this State!"

Of a sudden more than the usual amount of water came down and some of it hit the torch, extinguishing it instantly.

"Confound the luck," he murmured, and felt in his pocket for a match.

While he was searching for the article, he heard a strange noise overhead, close to the waterfall.

He listened and the noise was followed by the unmistakable growl of a wild beast.

A wolverine had strayed close to the waterfall and had slipped on the rocks to a shelf below.

For a few seconds the ferocious beast clung to the ledge, then slipped again and landed at Noel's feet!

The wolverine is one of the most ferocious beasts to be met with anywhere. It is not unlike the bear in general make-up, but has a more pointed head and a bushy tail. It is said that, generally speaking, a wolverine will not eat anything else if it can get meat.

As soon as the wolverine smelled the presence of a human being he let out a growl that seemed to strike to Noel's very backbone.

Letting the match he had pulled from his pocket drop, the young man felt for his pistol and brought forth the weapon with all possible speed.

Bang! The weapon was discharged and the bullet clipped the wolverine on the left side of the head. Then with a snarl that was almost a scream, the ferocious animal hurled itself upon Noel.

"Help! help!" cried the young man.

He felt that he was in an exceedingly perilous position and that assistance was absolutely necessary. In the darkness he thought he had been attacked by a mountain bear.

The wolverine managed to reach his shoulder, but Noel made a quick twist and freed himself. Then the young man fired a second shot.

The wolverine was now hit in the side, but the wound was far from fatal or even serious, and it only made the creature scream louder. With blazing eyes and gleaming teeth, it crouched low and prepared to spring for Noel's throat.

The young man knew that almost all wild beasts are fearful of fire but he did not know how the beast before him regarded water. Yet as he fired a third shot he stepped close up to the rocks, so that the water from the fall might pour over his person.

The third report echoed throughout the cavern as loudly as had the others, while the bullet flew a foot over the wolverine's head. Then the savage beast made a second leap at Noel and caught the young man by the arm. The weight of the animal made Noel lose his balance, and man and wolverine rolled over on the cavern floor together.