A CLOSE CALL.
"You are going to murder me?" the boy cried.
"Well, we don't put it just that way," was the cool reply of the man who
had spoken before.
"How do you put it, then?"
"We are going to execute you. In cases like yours the law is a little
too slow for us, so we have constituted ourselves judge, jury,
executioners and all the rest of it. Young fellow, you've stolen your
last horse."
The truth flashed upon Al.
For several weeks residents of the neighborhood of
Boomville--principally farmers--had been the victims of a clever horse
thief, who had, since he began operations, stolen a number of valuable
animals. The authorities seemed to be powerless in the matter, although
they professed to be using every possible means to bring the thief to
justice. Only one clew had been gained; one of the stolen horses had
been sold to a farmer in a village about fifty miles distant by a youth
of about sixteen, who had given a plausible reason to the simple-minded
purchaser for having the animal in his possession. The farmer had been
able to give a quite minute description of the boy. Al had read that
description, and now remembered, with a sinking of the heart, that it
would apply to him fully as well as to the thief for whom he was taken.
"See here," he exclaimed, impetuously, "you are making a terrible
mistake! I am not the person you think me to be."
"That's all right," was the sarcastic response of the spokesman of the
crowd. "I told you we were not going to waste any words on you, and we
are not."
"String him up!" shouted another of the party. "Get the job done with!
We're taking big chances in delaying the thing."
"That's right!"
"H'ist the derned hoss thief, then!"
"We've had enough chin music; let's get to work."
These were a few of the comments of the would-be executioners.
One man now stepped to the front. It was he who had followed Al from the
town. He had now donned a mask like the rest of the party.
"I'll do the job," he said. "Will you leave it to me, gents?"
Al started. Where had he heard that voice? Before any reply could be
made he said, in a loud, clear voice:
"Gentlemen, I am innocent of this crime. My name is Allen Allston. I
live in Boomville. Hundreds of people there know me, and can tell you
what my reputation is. Why, I should not have the slightest trouble in
proving an alibi. If you murder me, you will all bitterly regret it some
day. You do not want to commit a murder; you want to do what you think
an act of justice. You are making an awful mistake; give me a chance,
and I will prove it."
These words had a visible effect upon the desperate men. They began to
converse together in a low tone--all but the man who had followed Al; he
stood aloof from the rest.
"See here," he presently said, in a voice that Al noticed trembled
slightly, "if you gents have any more time to fool away here I haven't.
I don't propose to get into any trouble through this thing. I have tried
to do you a service, but you don't seem to appreciate it."
"We don't want to make any mistake," said the spokesman.
"But you're not making any mistake. Don't I tell you I know the boy,
that he is the same one that sold me the horse last week?"
Here Al interposed.
"Do you claim," he asked, "that you are the farmer to whom the horse
thief sold one of the stolen animals last week?"
"I do; and I recognize you as the person. It's no use, my fine fellow,
the jig's up. I've been shadowing you for some time, and I've got you
down fine."
Al turned to the group of men, who had been listening in silence to the
brief dialogue.
"Gentlemen," he said, "do any of you know the farmer who bought the
horse from the thief? Could any one of you swear to his identity?"
The spokesman replied, this time using a gentler tone than before.
"No, my lad," he said, "not one of us ever saw the man until to-night."
"You don't see him now," said Al. "I do not believe that this is the man
at all. He is some enemy of mine, who has imposed upon you for his own
personal ends."
"Bah!" interrupted the subject of discussion, "are we to stand here all
night listening to this sort of stuff? The young villain is only trying
to gain time. Of course, if he will steal, he will lie."
"All I ask is a fair trial," said Al, "but I see I cannot get that here.
However, gentlemen, if you must kill some one, don't kill the wrong man.
It looks to me a good deal as if this fellow were the real thief, and
that he was trying to throw dust in your eyes. None of you ever saw him
before, you say. Now, perhaps I have seen him. Let me see his face; it
may be that I can identify him."
"That's fair enough."
"That's all right."
"Off with your mask, stranger, and let the boy see your face."
It was evident that the sentiment of the crowd was turning in Al's
favor.
"Why should I show him my face?" said the boy's accuser. "All the rest
of you are masked."
"We'll take off our masks if you take off yours," said the spokesman.
"Eh, boys?"
"Ay! ay!" came from the others.
Still the stranger hesitated.
"It's risky for all of us," he said. "Have done with this nonsense. If
you are going to do away with the thief, get to work; if you're not,
why, let him go. We can't stand here all night chinning."
"Off with your mask!" said the leader of the crowd, sternly.
"All right," said the fellow, desperately; "I agree. Off with yours,
then, all of you."
Several of the crowd removed their masks. The stranger raised his hand,
as if to take his off, but instead of doing so, he turned suddenly and
made a rush for a thick growth of wood near which the scene we have just
described had been enacted. In a few moments--before his companions
could recover from their astonishment--he had disappeared.
"After him, Hammond and Thompson, and you, Porter!" shouted the leader.
"Don't let him get away from you."
Then turning to Al, he added:
"Boy, I believe we have made a mistake. That fellow is the real thief."
"I don't know about that," said our hero, "but I do know I'm not."
"If he isn't the thief, what motive could he have had in accusing an
innocent person?"
"Perhaps it is some one who has a grudge against me."
"It must be an awful grudge to induce him to lay such a plot as that
against you. Do you suspect anyone?"
"I'd rather not mention any names," said Al.
Here an old farmer, one of the three or four who had removed their
masks, stepped forward.
"Don't let this here boy fule yer," he said. "I b'lieve he's one o' the
gang. Mark my word, it'll turn aout so."
"You think so, do you, Mr. Chadwick?" said Al, quietly, looking the old
man full in the face.
"Yeou know me, dew yeou?"
"Yes, and you ought to know me. Have you forgotten Allen Allston?"
The farmer gasped for breath.
"I'll be derned ef it ain't Jack Allston's boy!" he exclaimed. "Why, o'
course I know yeou."
"I told you my name before."
"I wuz so 'xcited that I didn't take notice. I wuz so sure, yeou see,
thet we hed the right one. Boys"--turning to the others--"I'll swear
thet this here lad don't know no more 'baout who stole them hosses than
we do. I know all his folks, an' there ain't a dishonest hair in the
heads o' enny o' them. I'd ha' know'd him at fust, but I ain't seen him
fer a year or more, an' he's grow'd. An' besides, my eyesight ain't what
it used ter be. Boys, we've hed a narrer escape from committin' a
murder." The men now crowded round Al and shook his hands, and
apologized for their rough treatment of him.
While they were thus engaged the three who had gone in pursuit of Al's
accuser returned.
"Ain't you got him?" cried Farmer Chadwick.
"No, he gave us the slip. The moon has gone under a cloud, and in the
darkness he got away. But we'll catch him yet."
Then the man turned to Al.
"Boy," he queried, "have you any suspicion as to who the fellow is?"
Our hero hesitated, then he replied:
"Yes, I have."
"Who do you think he is?" cried two or three of the men together.
"I would rather not say," replied the boy.
"Why?"
"Because I might be wronging an innocent man."
"But we want to find the thief."
"I cannot help you do that. If the man is the one I think he may be, he
did not steal the horses."
"Why did he accuse you, then?" demanded one of the party.
"Merely to satisfy a private grudge."
"Then he ought to be found and punished; so why do you try to shield
him?"
"Because it is my private affair," replied Al, quietly. "And because I
do not like your way of administering what you call justice. See how
near you came to making a mistake to-night. But how did you run across
the fellow who said I was the thief?"
"I'll tell you," replied the spokesman, rather sheepishly. "A few of us
were in a saloon in Boomville the early part of the evening. We had
indulged in a few drinks, and we must have talked a little louder than
we realized, for this fellow overheard us telling how we were going to
start a search for the horse thief to-night and string him up if we
found him. He came and told us that he could lead us to him. Well, he
talked as if he knew what he was saying, and---- Well, you know the
rest."
"So," said Al, "you took the word of a barroom loafer, or worse, on a
matter of so much importance as that."
"We were excited and had drunk a little too much."
"Well, it seems to me that you had better leave the future management of
the business to the proper authorities," suggested Al.
"Maybe you're right," admitted the man he addressed. "Well, you won't
say anything about this night's affair to anyone?"
"I shall say nothing that can harm you. The thing shall not be made
public through me."
"We'll take your word for that. And now, get into the wagon, and you
shall be driven home."