IMPORTANT NEGOTIATIONS.
THE shot which the trapper fired in self-defence, therefore, was of the
utmost help in his approach to the old mission building, for it broke
the line of circumvallation, which otherwise would have been impassable
to anyone seeking to enter or leave the structure.
To this also was due the escape of Strubell and Lattin when they
hastened to the spot. It may be said that the entire plan of the
Apaches was disarranged. In trying to cover so extensive a circle, they
left of necessity vast gaps, through which the Texans passed without
detection. It must have been one of the Apaches engaged in this curious
hunt that approached Herbert Watrous, as he lay on the summit of the
elevation awaiting the return of his friends.
The trapper did the best thing possible, for he had taken but a few
steps when the outlines of the old mission house assumed form in the
gloom, and he did not halt until he was at the door.
Despite the stirring incident through which he had just passed, none of
them tried his nerve as did this last phase of his experience. He could
not know how long he would be kept waiting; the Apaches were sure to
appear shortly. If forced to stay for a brief period where he was, he
must be discovered, and the position of a single man at bay in front
of a building, without the liberty to enter, and obliged to meet the
attack of a dozen enemies, need not be dwelt upon.
Eph gave the heavy door several violent kicks the moment it was within
reach, and the sound could not only have been heard throughout the
interior, but a long way beyond. The Apaches were sure to make a speedy
investigation.
Fortunately for the trapper he was not kept long in suspense. Bell
Rickard could not fail to hear the energetic summons, and quickly
called from one of the upper windows, taking care not to expose
himself:
“Who’s there?”
“Me, Eph Bozeman.”
“Where the mischief did _you_ come from?” asked the criminal, now
venturing to thrust his head from the window.
“Never mind whar I come from,” replied the impatient applicant; “come
down an’ let me in powerful quick or you won’t git the chance to let me
in at all.”
“All right! I’ll be there.”
It seemed a long while before Rickard descended to the door, during
every second of which Eph expected the Apaches. He stood ready to let
fly with rifle and revolver at the first sight, but, while waiting, he
heard Rickard at the door, which was speedily unbarred, and he stepped
inside more quickly than he had ever done anything of the kind before.
All was dark, but Rickard did not speak until he had refastened the
door, which was composed of a species of carved wood, still seen in the
old mission houses of the Southwest, which is hardly less strong and
endurable than the adobe walls themselves.
The trapper was so familiar with the interior of the structure that he
walked readily along the broad, open hallway, into the court beyond,
where there was sufficient light to observe the figure of his companion
as he led the way to a small apartment opening into the court, and
within which a dim light was burning.
Into this the two passed, on the first floor, where Eph found himself
face to face with Bell Rickard and Harman Slidham, whom he had met a
short time before, and knew to be among the most lawless characters in
the States and Territories.
“I was up in front of the building,” said Rickard, “looking out for the
Apaches when I heard you at the door.”
“Yes,” replied the trapper, “I tried to make you hear me.”
The room which the three entered was one of a dozen similar ones,
opening upon the court in the centre, the building forming what might
be described as a hollow square. Many years before the apartment had
probably been used as sleeping quarters by the fathers, who devoted
their lives to labor among the Indians, who, it must be confessed,
rarely showed any appreciation of their self-sacrifice.
It was twenty feet deep, and perhaps half as broad, without furniture,
but with walls several feet in thickness. The only openings were the
door and two narrow windows facing the court. These let in sufficient
light to give all the illumination required during the daytime.
In the rear of this room Rickard kept his supply of meal and dried meat
for such contingencies as the one that now seemed upon him. The door,
of the same material as the main one, could be secured so that a forced
entrance required great labor and effort, while the windows were too
strait to allow the smallest person to squeeze his body through.
From an iron bracket in the wall burned an oil lamp which lit up the
interior, showing the sacks of grain and a couple of boxes containing
dried meat. The sacks and boxes furnished seats for the men during
their conference.
The trapper glanced searchingly around, and was surprised to see
nothing of Nick Ribsam, though he made no reference to it; but
knowing of the supply of water, he asked for a draught before opening
proceedings.
An earthen vessel contained a gallon or so, which Slidham had brought
only a short time before from the spring near by. Eph quaffed long and
deep before setting it on the rough floor, and drew the back of his
hand across his mouth, with a sigh of enjoyment.
“You can’t improve much on that,” he remarked, resuming his seat on one
of the bags of grain.
“No; it goes pretty well when you have been without anything for two or
three days,” replied Rickard, who suspected the errand that had brought
his old acquaintance thither.
“It isn’t as bad as that, but we haven’t had a swaller sence crossing
the Pecos to-day.”
“You say ‘we’; how is that, Eph? When we parted you were travelling the
other way, and no one was with you.”
“You’re right on that, but I met Ard Strubell and Baker Lattin, who had
a younker with ‘em, and they war after you.”
“After _me_! What was that for?”
“Come, Bell, none of that; you understand what it means; you’ve got a
younker, and they want him.”
“Are they willing to pay for him?” asked the horse thief.
“Wal, if you’re mean ‘nough to ask it, they’re ready to give something,
but, Bell, I hardly expected this of you; I knowed you war dealin’ in
hoss-flesh, but I didn’t know you war goin’ to start in this line of
bus’ness.”
Eph Bozeman was a man who spoke his mind under all circumstances, and
he felt not the slightest fear of the couple, who had followed a life
of outlawry for many years.
Slidham lit his pipe and listened. Rickard was the leader, and he was
content to let him do the talking for the two. The evil fellow did not
beat about the bush.
“It doesn’t make any difference to me what you expected or didn’t
expect; you wouldn’t have come here at this time unless it was on
business, and if you’ve got anything to say to me there’s no use in
waiting.”
“I guess mebbe your right, Bell; of course Ard and Baker know what you
run off with the younker for; you mean to keep him till you get a
reward for givin’ him up.”
“You’ve hit it the first time,” replied Rickard.
“Wal, the boys talked it over, and they didn’t like it much, but the
younker with them says he’s willin’ to give somethin’, but nothin’ very
big. How much do you want?”
“What are they willing to pay?”
“That isn’t the way to hit it, Bell, name what you want, and if it’s
too big why I’ll go back and tell ‘em so, and they won’t give it,
that’s all, but wait for a chance to even matters with you.”
“What would they say to five thousand?” asked Rickard in a hesitating
way which gave the cue to the trapper. He rose abruptly from where he
sat on the sack of meal.
“Let me out the gate.”
“What for?” asked the surprised criminal.
“When you talk that way, thar’s no need of my waitin’.”
“I asked you to name a sum, but you wouldn’t.”
“I didn’t s’pose you war goin’ to ask all the money thar is in New
York,” said the trapper, whose ideas of the financial resources of the
great metropolis were crude.
“Well, make a proposal and I’ll tell you what I’ll do.”
“Baker thought five hundred was plenty, but Ard said if you stuck out I
might go a thousand.”
“It’s the other young man that pays it, isn’t it?”
“Of course.”
“What does _he_ say?”
“Not much of anything,” replied Eph, who saw the advantage he possessed
and did not mean to let go of it.
“How is he going to pay the money? Has he got it with him?”
“Of course not; but he explained that he would give you a draft—I
b’lieve they call it—that is, a piece of paper with writin’ on it,
which you can hand over to Mr. Lord in Santone, and he’ll pay you a
thousand dollars—which shows what a fool Mr. Lord is, for how can a
piece of paper be worth anything like _that_?”
“You’re asking me to trust them a good way,” said Rickard, who had
hoped that the parties would be able to produce the funds, “for they
may get word to the banker and he won’t pay it. Then I’ll be out with
no way to help myself.”
“As I figger it,” said the trapper, wrinkling his brow with thought,
and anxious to display his knowledge, “thar aint no way of fixin’ it
without takin’ a risk like that. You’ve knowed me and Ard Strubell and
Baker Lattin for a good many years, and you know that when we give our
promise we’ll stick to it. Aint that so?”
“I don’t dispute it.”
“Wal, then, we three, includin’ likewise the younker as is to pay the
money, give you our promise that if you’ll send this one with you back
to them, with his hoss, gun, an’ everything right, they’ll give you
that paper, which will bring you one thousand dollars the minute you
hand it to Mr. Lord in Santone.”
“That seems to be straight, though I ought to have more.”
“I forgot to say that the younker said if you should ask a big sum he
couldn’t save trouble in your gettin’ it, which means, I s’pose, that
he’ll have to work it through New York, or somethin’ like that, but
thar won’t be any trouble ‘bout five hundred or a thousand dollars.”