THE HUNT FOR THE ROBBERS.
"Bob was right when he declared that this thing was destined to end in
something besides fun, wasn't he?" observed Tom, giving utterance to
the very thoughts that were passing through Joe Morgan's mind. "But
I don't believe he ever dreamed that anything like this was going to
happen."
"Do you think the robbers have got hold of him?" faltered Joe, who knew
that Tom expected him to say something.
"I know it?" was the answer.
"Where were you when they captured him?"
"I don't know. The way it happened was this: After you left us we
decided to make the entire round of uncle's wood-lot, and as we
couldn't do it if we stayed together, we separated, and that was the
last I saw of Bob Emerson. Before parting we agreed to meet at the
cabin at six o'clock, sharp. I was there at the minute, but Bob wasn't,
and while I was waiting for him, I happened to see this notice, which
was fastened to the door of the shanty with a wooden pin. That's all
there is of it."
"Why don't you go down to the gorge?"
"We went there the first thing, and we've been everywhere else that we
could think of," replied Tom. "They left their camp in a great hurry;
but where they went is a mystery. But we will have them before many
hours have passed away," added Tom, confidently. "These officers have
come up from Hammondsport on purpose to arrest them, and they are not
going back without them. We are taking them down to the Beach now, to
raise a "hue and cry" among the guides there, and by daylight to-morrow
morning the mountains will be full of men. There is an additional
reward offered for the arrest of the thieves, you know, and it is big
enough to stimulate everybody to extra exertion."
While Tom and Joe were talking in this way, the rest of the party had
gathered about Silas, whom they were trying to induce to join in the
general hunt that was to be made on the following day.
Dan, being left to himself, listened with one ear to what Tom was
saying to his brother, and with the other tried to keep track of the
conversation that was going on in his father's neighborhood.
When he heard Tom say that a reward had been offered for the
apprehension of the robbers, as well as for the recovery of the
property they had stolen, he stepped closer to him, and whispered:
"Do you know how much it is?"
"Five thousand dollars for both of them, or half of it for one,"
answered Tom. "Now, Dan, there's a chance for you to make yourself
rich."
"But that there hant--" began Dan.
"Is no hant at all," replied Tom. "Why, man alive, there are no such
things, and I thought everybody knew it. I took a good look at this one
while we were up there to-night, and found that it was nothing but a
long pole with a stuffed pillow-case on one end of it for a head, and a
short cross-piece for the shoulders. The man who managed it and made it
act as if it were about to spring at you was behind the bushes out of
sight. He and his companion did the yelling, and you never hurt either
one of them, although your four charges of shot tore the pillow-case
all to pieces."
"Yes," replied Dan, "Pap 'lowed that we'd oughter fired into the bresh."
"Exactly. If you had showed a little more pluck, you and your father
might have had ten thousand dollars to divide between you. As it turned
out, Joe is entitled to only a third of it, but he'll get that, sure."
"Dog-gone such luck!" exclaimed Dan, in a tone of deep disgust.
"Well, it was a windfall to your family, anyway," observed Tom, "and
you can add more to it to-morrow, if you're smart."
"And what will poor Bob be doing while we are hunting for him?"
inquired Joe. "He seems to be frightened, for he wants you to give up
the valise, and be quick about it."
"Oh, nonsense!" exclaimed Tom; "you don't know Bob Emerson as well as
I do. He wrote that postscript, of course, and so would you if you had
been in his place. But Bob would be the maddest boy you ever saw if we
should pay the least attention to it."
At this moment Uncle Hallet and Mr. Warren turned toward the place
where the boys were standing, the former saying, with some impatience
in his tones:
"Well, Silas, if you are afraid to come you can stay at home; but I
would have a little more pluck if I were in your place. You'll come,
won't you, Joe, and help us hunt down those villains who have kidnapped
Bob Emerson?"
"Indeed I will," answered Joe, promptly.
"I knew that would be your reply," continued Mr. Hallet. "Now, if you
will bring the flat to the bank and drop the apron, we'll get our team
aboard and go on to the Beach."
The ferryman and his boys went to work with a will, and when the flat
reached the other side of the river, the passengers got into their
wagon and drove toward the Beach, after telling Silas that they would
go home by way of the bridge, and he need not stay up to ferry them
back; while Joe hurried off to tell his mother what he had learned
during his short interview with Tom Hallet.
"It's the greatest outrage I ever heard of," said he, indignantly; "but
they needn't think they are going to make anything by it. Don't I wish
I might be lucky enough to gobble at least one of those robbers!"
"Oh, Joseph, I don't know whether I want you to go up there or not,"
said his mother, growing frightened again.
"I must!" replied Joe, decidedly. "I have promised to be at Tom's cabin
to-morrow morning at daylight, and that settles it. I wonder if father
and Dan will go?"
That was the very question that Silas and his worthy son were
propounding to each other as they sat side by side on the river's bank.
The terrible fright they had sustained on the day they went after the
money was still fresh in their minds; but then, there was the reward,
which was a sure thing this time, provided they could be fortunate
enough to capture the robbers.
They were both willing, and even eager, to join in the "hue-and-cry"
that was to be raised against the thieves, provided they could do it in
their own way; and the plans they were revolving in their minds, but of
which they did not speak, were the same in every particular.
For example, Dan wanted his father to stay at home, and after he got
into the mountains, he wanted nobody but Joe for company.
The latter had showed himself to be bold as well as lucky, and if they
two should happen to catch one of the robbers, Dan would not feel that
he was under the slightest obligation to share the reward with his
brother, because Joe had more than three thousand dollars of his own
already. But if his father went with him, he would lay claim to half
the money, and he would be likely to get it, too, for he had the right
to take every cent Dan made.
This was the way Dan looked at the matter; and it was the very way his
father looked at it. The result was, that although they spent an hour
or more in looking it over, they went to bed without deciding whether
they would go or not.
Nevertheless, they had well-defined plans in their heads, and each one
resolved that he would carry them out regardless of the wishes of the
other.
Silas, in order to throw Dan off his guard, began operations by saying
to his wife, the moment he entered the cabin:
"I ain't a-going to jine in the rumpus the sheriff kicks up after them
fellers to-morrow. It's mighty comical to me how easy some people can
talk to you about putting yourself in the way of getting a charge
of bird-shot sent into you, while they keep outen range themselves.
I ain't got no call to resk my life a finding of Bob Emerson, and I
shan't do it to please nobody."
Dan was secretly delighted to see his father work himself into a rage
over the supposition that somebody would be pleased to see him go in
the way of danger.
"If he will only stick to that, I'm all right," said he, to himself.
"Pap sleeps sounder'n a dozen men oughter, and if Joe don't call him in
the morning, you can bet your bottom dollar _I_ won't."
Knowing his failing in this particular, Silas made the mental
resolution that he would not go to sleep at all. The young game-warden,
who was one of those lucky fellows who can wake at any hour they
please, could be relied on to make an early start, and Silas told
himself that he would lie perfectly still and wide awake until
breakfast was ready, when he would jump up, eat his full share of the
bacon and potatoes, and set out for the mountain when Joe did.
But even while he was thinking about it, he went off into a deep
slumber. He did not awake when Joe got up, and neither did the rattling
of the dishes nor the savory odors of the bacon and coffee arouse him
to a consciousness of what was going on in the cabin.
Having heard him say that he did not intend to join the sheriff's
posse, Mrs. Morgan and Joe did not think it worth while to disturb him,
and Dan would not do anything to interfere with his own plans, which
thus far were working as smoothly as he could have desired.
"But I've got a sneaking idee that there'll be trouble in this here
house when pap does wake up, and finds me and Joe gone," thought Dan.
"No matter. I won't be here to listen to his r'aring and pitching,
so he can go on all he wants to. And if me and Joe should catch one
of them robbers--whoop-pee! Then I'll have the reward all to myself;
'cause I ain't a going to put myself in the way of getting shot at, and
then go snucks with a feller that's got more'n three thousand dollars
a'ready. I'll see him furder first."
The hours dragged along all too slowly for the tired, patient woman who
sat in the open door with her sewing in her lap, and her tear-dimmed
eyes fastened upon the hills among which the only member of the family
who cared for her, or who tried in any way to smooth her pathway and
make her burdens easier to bear, might at that very moment be rushing
to his destruction. She wished he might have stayed at home and let
some one else go in his place; but Joe was loyal to his friend, and
Mrs. Morgan had not tried to turn him from his purpose. She wished,
too, that the weary day was over, so that the young game-warden could
come back and say something comforting to her.
Just then somebody did say something, but the voice belonged to one who
was not often guilty of saying or doing anything to comfort her.
"Na-r-r-r!" came from a distant corner of the cabin, and Silas Morgan
threw off the blankets and started up in bed, to find that it was broad
daylight, that breakfast had been cooked and eaten, and that the boy he
had hoped to outwit was gone. He saw it all at a glance, but he wanted
an explanation.
"Where be they?" he demanded.
"They have been gone almost three hours," was the meek response.
"And you let 'em go without saying a word to me?" roared the angry and
disappointed man.
"Why, father, you told me last night that you didn't intend to go,"
said his wife.
"And you didn't have any better sense than to believe it!" shouted
Silas. "Did they go off together? Well, old woman, you have cooked
your goose this time--you have for a fact. I wanted to go with Joe
myself, and leave Dan to home, 'cause he ain't no account when there's
any shooting and such going on. He's too much of a coward to stand
fire, Dan is. I had kind o' made it up in my mind that me and Joe
would captur' one, and mebbe both, of them bugglars, and I kalkerlated
to give you the most of my share of the money; but now you won't get
none, and it serves you just right for letting me sleep when you
oughter called me up. But I'll tell you one thing for a fact--the three
thousand that Joe has made already, and the hundred and twenty he's
going to earn this winter, is mine; likewise all the reward him and Dan
get to-day, if they get any."
So saying, Silas shouldered his double-barrel and left the cabin,
paying no sort of attention to his wife's entreaties that before he set
out for the mountain he would take a cup of coffee and a bite of the
breakfast she had kept warm for him.