A RAID
Austin Leyburn was well enough satisfied. More than that, he felt he
had earned these moments of satisfaction.
He had taken a big chance in rushing down in his automobile from
Calford to Everton at the moment when the newly started strike of the
railroad required his whole attention, and the sympathies of other
forms of transport required to be brought into line. So many things
might go wrong with his greater plans, and though his working staff and
fellow-leaders were men of capacity, and fully able to deal with
affairs, he knew that, in all emergency, his was the organizing brain,
his was the final word.
But the risk had been worth while. Anything was worth while that gave
him opportunity of satisfying something of his almost lifelong hatred
of Alexander Hendrie. This new toy of his, this organization of
agricultural labor, had assumed proportions far greater in his mind
than any of his other interests, and the reason of it lay in the fact
that at last, after years of waiting, it had brought him into contact
with the man, Leo. Better still, Leo, the Leo he had at last found out,
was worth while. He was a great man, a man head and shoulders above all
his fellows in the world's affairs, and his ultimate fall would be
something worth while having brought about.
His delight was manifest as he rode along the trail in the direction of
Everton. His good humor left his narrow eyes smiling his satisfied
thought. His men had worked well; and he--well, he had never worked
harder, or with a more satisfactory result. These men of the soil were
far easier to influence than town-bred workers. It was natural--as they
were. Yes, for once in his life he felt grateful to those who had
served him. The men who had been sent ahead to agitate had never worked
with such successful results. He would remember them, and mark them out
for promotion.
Then there was young Frank Smith. He smiled more broadly down at his
horse's ears. Leo's son--working for his father's downfall. It was a
pretty touch, and the humor of it tickled him. Oh, Leo should know of
it--later on, when the work was completed.
Frank. He wondered where he was just now. The smile died out of his
eyes. He had purposely kept his meeting secret. He had had no desire
that the boy should witness it. He had a perfect estimate of the
youngster's prejudices and feelings which might have militated against
his, Leyburn's, success had Frank listened to his urging of those
drink-sodden creatures to violence. But where was he? He had received
no word from the boy for nearly a week. He made a mental note to set
inquiries afoot--that is, if no word were awaiting him on his return to
Calford.
At that moment his horse, an old roadster, hired at the livery barn in
Everton, threw up its head and snuffed at the light, southern breeze.
Leyburn glanced up expectantly and turned his eyes in the direction in
which his uneasy horse was staring. In an instant Frank was forgotten,
and his whole attention became fixed upon what he beheld. He drew rein
sharply, and the animal stood fidgeting and fretful.
Away to the southwest behind him a ruddy glow shone upon the night sky.
It was the direction whence the night breeze sprang, and he knew that
it was at the point where he had held his meeting. He rubbed his hands
gleefully and chuckled. While he watched the glow spread along the
southern horizon, and as it spread so the stars in the sky above were
obscured, and he knew that a great fog of smoke had intervened to hide
them.
His horse continued to fidget, and again and again its gushing nostrils
strove to expel the taint of smoke, now plainly to be noticed in the
fresh air of the plains.
But the man remained absorbed. Farther and farther along the horizon
lit, and now, where before only a glowing reflection had been, a sharp
belt of flame showed up, revealing to his satisfied eyes the great
billows of smoke rolling along and upwards, borne upon the bosom of the
summer breeze.
He knew that his work was complete. He knew that those whom he had left
behind to see that his desires were carried out had done so promptly
and satisfactorily. He knew that now no human hand could save the miles
of crop belonging to Alexander Hendrie. He knew that, by morning, a
charred, black debris would be all that remained of hundreds of
thousands of dollars worth of grain, and that Leo, the great Leo, would
be just so much the poorer.
He gave his restive horse its head, and the eager beast plunged forward
down the trail. It was thankful, desperately thankful, for the chance
of getting away from the hateful, fascinating sight.
Leyburn's eyes remained turned upon the wonderful spectacle of the
fiercely burning grain. The fire was sweeping onward with a terrific
rush, and a dull roar reached him as it licked up the rustling heads of
wheat in a parallel to the road he was traveling. Its pace was
miraculous, and man and beast were soon left far behind in the race.
Never had this man witnessed such a wonderful scene, and something of
its awe filled his heart.
He had no misgivings, no qualms of conscience. It was his work, this
wanton destruction, and he gloried in it. The weight of his hand had
fallen, and he knew that Alexander Hendrie, while powerless to help
himself, would understand who had directed the blow.
The fire grew with lightning rapidity, and even here on this trail,
well away from the danger zone, the heat left his horse in a lather of
sweat. The smoke, too, was choking, but the discomfort of it was no
discomfort to him at all, only to his horse, who had no desire for a
cruel vengeance in its submissive heart.
He sped on rapidly. Soon the trail turned away northward, and the fire
fell lower and lower upon the horizon, and the heated night air cooled
and sweetened. But the man half regretted he was no longer in full view
of the result of his mischief. Still he reveled in the thought of what
Hendrie's feelings must be just now. It gave him the greatest delight
to picture the millionaire standing in the shadow of his palatial home
while a vast slice of his wealth was vanishing in smoke before his eyes.
An hour later he approached the bluffs which surrounded Everton. He had
passed no one on the trail. As he drew near his destination he was
still further astonished to find no sign of excitement stirring. He
looked back. The sky was lit for miles around, yet Everton and its
surroundings seemed all undisturbed. There was just a slight feeling of
pique in him as he realized how little popular stir his doings had
caused, and this lack of interest somehow lessened his satisfaction.
The bluff swallowed him up, and he dug his heels viciously into his
horse's flanks.
The next moment he became aware of a horseman riding toward him. That
was better. Everton was awake after all. Doubtless only the silence of
the bluffs gave the little town its appearance of indifference to the
epoch-making achievements of his genius.
The horseman rounded a bend in the trail just ahead of him. He drew up
sharply as he came abreast.
"Say," the man cried, without ceremony, "guess you don't just happen to
be Austin Leyburn?"
Leyburn thought quickly before replying.
"You looking for him?" he inquired evasively.
"What in hell do you s'pose I'm doin'?" retorted the other, with a sort
of explosion.
"Shouting a deal," observed Leyburn calmly.
"Guess you'd shout too, if you was chased this time o' night rushin'
around hunting a guy called Leyburn, when there's a hell of a big fire
eatin' up that doggone skunk Hendrie's wheat."
"Fire?"
Leyburn appeared surprised.
"That's what I said. Say, you ain't deef an' blind, or what's ailing
yer? You come along that way. Gee, I'd sure guess that lousy dollar
king's 'bout hatin' hisself right now. It's his boys. They're on
strike. More power to 'em, sez I. If I'd anything in their bizness I'd
burn his house, too."
"You a farm hand?" inquired Leyburn amusedly.
"Was. I worked for Hendrie till his dirty Scotch manager fired me. Now
I'm chasin' chores around the hotel, back there. Well, guess I got to
find this guy 'fore I make my blankets this night. I'll get on--seein'
you haven't seen him around."
But Leyburn promptly detained him.
"I'm your man," he said quietly. "What is it?"
"You're Leyburn?" The man's eyes twinkled in the darkness as he fumbled
in his dirty waistcoat pocket. "I'm real glad," he exclaimed. "Guess
I'll get a peek at Hendrie's bonfire after all. Here--it come over the
'phone for you an hour back. It's from Calford. The boss wrote it down
so I wouldn't forget. You got to chase back to Calford right away.
Something important. Boss said they wouldn't say wot, seein' it wasn't
you speakin', but you wasn't to lose a minit--'cep you wanted one hell
of a bust-up of trouble. Here it is." He drew out a piece of paper
tightly folded.
Leyburn took the paper.
"That what this paper says?" he asked.
"Wal, not just them words, but you got to get back right away. Guess
I'll get on an' see that fire now."
The choreman picked up his reins and rammed his heels into his horse's
flanks.
"So long," he called out, as his horse dashed forward in the direction
Leyburn had come.
Leyburn did not trouble to reply. He was already urging his horse
forward so as to reach the hotel with as little delay as possible.
Trouble in Calford. He had risked it by making his visit to Everton. It
was always the way. He might have known. What fool trick had they been
up to in his absence? Was there ever such a pack of imbeciles? Not one
fit to be trusted for a second. He slashed his horse's sides with
vicious heels in his haste to obey the summons.
*****
The level prairie trail lay like a ribbon outstretched in front of the
speeding machine, as the searchlight at the head of the car threw out
its great shaft of hard, cold light.
The man at the wheel sat well forward. His eyes were straining behind
his glasses, straining to discover in time those treacherous
unevennesses so frequently found in the hollows of an unmade road. The
speed was terrific, and even Austin Leyburn, who sat beside him, with
all his confidence in his man, was sitting up, too, lending his
watchful eyes to the task.
The machine purred musically in the stillness of the night. The engine
was firing with perfect precision, and the occupants of the car were
left free to give their whole attention to the surface of the road. It
was needed, too. The danger of their speed in the darkness was great,
even to the most experienced chauffeur.
Austin Leyburn had been forced to obey his summons. On arrival at the
Russell Hotel he had interviewed Lionel K. Sharpe, and verified the
telephone message. Sharpe had told him the same as he had written down
on paper, and assured him of the urgency with which the message had
been sent.
But even this had not been sufficient for the shrewd labor leader.
Nothing would satisfy him but to ring up Calford himself. He was
promptly afforded every facility. Nor was it until he had spent half an
hour in vain ringing that he discovered that the machine had taken into
its wayward, wooden head to get out of order. In consequence he was
left with no alternative but to accept the message as it stood, and
make the journey to Calford with all possible speed.
His mind traveled swiftly over the possibilities suggested by the
message. But each and every suggestion that came to him left him
dissatisfied. He could think of no probability that demanded his
presence at headquarters before the morning, at his usual hour, the
time his fellow-workers were aware he intended to return.
He became annoyed. The more he considered the matter the more his
annoyance grew. Yet he could not help a feeling of uneasiness, too. All
his satisfaction of a short while ago had passed. It was one thing to
achieve a long-cherished revenge; but, to him, it was quite another if
its achievement meant the upsetting of his entire life's work. These
thoughts came to him and would not be denied, in spite of his repeated
reassurance that it was all impossible, and that the message must have
been the result of some absurd and sudden panic on the part of some
blundering fool.
He was in the midst of these reflections, and his own attention was
consequently distracted from the road, when a whistling sound escaped
the man beside him. It was like a sharp intake of breath, caused by
sudden alarm. Leyburn turned toward him, and as he did so the car
jolted under the sharp application of brakes, while behind them a
stream of sparks lit their wake.
"What is it?" he demanded, peering out ahead. "Gee!" he cried in alarm,
an instant later. "Quick, skirt it!"
But the car jerked to a standstill in a manner that must nearly have
ripped the tires off the wheels, and Leyburn found himself with his
hands gripping the dashboard below the glass wind-screen, which came
into sharp contact with his face.
"Gee! That was a narrow shave," cried the chauffeur, with a gasp of
relief.
"What the devil----!" cried Leyburn, struggling back to his seat, while
the engine roared free, vibrating the whole car violently, as if in
angry protest.
But the driver had jumped to the ground, and stood contemplating a huge
tangle of barbed wire spreading right across the trail, less than a
dozen yards beyond the front wheels.
Leyburn climbed down and followed him. There were no bluffs, there were
no fields with barbed wire fencing anywhere in sight. It was plain
enough, even in the darkness, that they were surrounded on either hand
by nothing but bare, open prairie. He approached the tangled mass, and
his man pointed at it.
"We must clear it," he said. "It's these cursed farmers. They're so
darned careless---- Say, if we'd gone headlong into that, it would have
torn our running gear right out. Look at that." He stooped and fingered
the great strands of wire.
Leyburn bent down. His suspicions were fully aroused.
"Say," he cried. "This didn't get here by----"
"Hands up!"
The cry came sharply from directly behind the labor leader, and its
threat was unmistakable.
Leyburn turned at the hoarse demand. The chauffeur stood up. Both found
themselves looking into the muzzles of revolvers. Two masked men stood
confronting them, while a third was waiting close by.
The chauffeur promptly complied with the order. He felt that he had
nothing to gain by refusing. He remembered in time that he had only a
few dollars in cash on him, and no valuables.
Leyburn was less quick to respond. Light had broken in upon his quick
brain, and his thoughts had gone back to the telephone message.
Another sharp order brought his wandering attention back to the
exigencies of the moment, and his hands were slowly raised above his
head.
Then the third man became active. Without a moment's hesitation, and in
absolute silence, he ran his hands down the labor leader's pockets.
Then he produced a rope, and taking hold of his arms forced them to his
sides, finally securing them behind his back. Once his man was
completely trussed he turned his attention to the other, treating him
to similar attentions.
The whole thing was the work of a few moments. Leyburn, impotently
raging, was left quite helpless. So sudden and startling had been the
attack, so unsuspected, that its success was complete; and even protest
became impossible before the threat of his assailants' weapons.
Now more than ever he knew he had been trapped by the telephone
message. But why, and by whom? Robbery? It was absurd. The money he had
on him would not pay these men for their trouble and risk.
No, it was not robbery. Then he remembered Hendrie and the firing of
his crop. In a moment he became anxious, and narrowly scrutinized the
figures of his assailants. Two of them were large, and the third was a
lean creature, tall enough, but small beside the other two. Each man's
face was completely covered by a long black mask. He could not tell
even if they were bearded.
His suspicions once aroused, however, he quickly made up his mind that
this was the work of his arch-enemy, and he knew that, for the time, at
least, he stood at his mercy.
Suddenly a hand was laid upon his shoulder. He was turned about. Then
he was thrust forward.
"Walk," commanded the man who had first spoken. The next moment he
found himself moving out on to the prairie.
In the meantime the chauffeur was hustled back to the automobile. His
captor secured him in the front seat, while the third man dragged the
barbed wire clear of the road. Then the other took his place at the
wheel, and the car rolled away.
The third man looked after it. Then he finally turned off the trail and
followed Leyburn and his captor. By the time he reached them, both men
were in the saddle, waiting. Two other horses stood by. He sprang into
the saddle of one and led the other, and the whole party set off across
the prairie.