STOLEN--A MOTOR BOAT
"I've seen that face before, unless I am much mistaken," was the reply.
"It must be Mad Rowell, a person who just thinks he's the toughest man
that ever came down the pike."
The boys were in the store by this time with a meager supply of clothing
in front of them. Mad Rowell was evidently looking for trouble. He kept
his evil eyes fixed upon the party in an effort to stare them out of
countenance.
"This looks like a mix-up with the fellow," whispered Case. "I wish I
had my gun with me."
"No need of a gun, son," was the reply. "You wouldn't get a chance to
use it if you had it," with a quick motion toward a breast pocket.
"Hands up!"
The command was given in the usual tone, but Mad Rowell obeyed
instantly. His hand, already bringing a weapon from his pocket, dropped
to his side, the weapon clattering to the floor.
By this time the store was in confusion. Customers were getting out of
range in any way they could.
They were hiding under counters, and rushing to the door in a panic
which threatened to depopulate the place of business.
"Leave the gun where it is," came the voice of Buck.
His tone was low and musical, but there was a glitter in his smiling
eyes which commanded obedience.
The fellow stood sullenly awaiting the next move.
"I ought to fill you full of lead," went on the voice, "but I can't find
it in my heart to shoot such a low-down coyote as you. Got another gun
on you?"
The man shook his head.
"I'll find that out for myself, I reckon. Cattle like you ain't to be
trusted."
When the search had progressed as far as the pistol pocket a wicked
looking knife was discovered.
"You cur!" said Buck. "I make you a present of your life, and this is
the way I'm paid."
The blow which followed the remark had nothing to break its force. Mad
Rowell was lifted clear of the floor by the force of it, whirled around
a couple of times, and fell unconscious to the top of a heap of green
wood.
Then Buck turned to the counter and proceeded with his bargaining as if
nothing had occurred. Gradually the customers returned to the store, but
not until Buck and the boys had made their purchases and left the store
was there any comment whatever.
Then opinions, both for and against the unknown man who had dealt with
the man known as Mad Rowell so summarily were heard.
"Served him good and right," said the storekeeper, lifting the fallen
tough in his arms and throwing him out of doors. "The fellow has run
this town too long already."
And that was the general sentiment, though Rowell had his friends too.
Clay and Case, clothed in new suits, proceeded on their way to where the
motor boat had been secreted.
"Tell you what," Buck suggested, "I think some of us had better remain
on the spot, in case prowlers should take a fancy to the _Esmeralda_.
Nice name, eh? Named for an old sweetheart."
"Who'll be the one to stay?" asked Clay, looking keenly at his chum.
"You know the money was ordered in my name from Chicago, and no one else
can receipt."
"That puts it up to me, I take it," Case replied. "Have you any idea
when the other boys will be along?"
"When Alex gets full to the neck," replied Clay. "If you want to see an
eating contest that is a corker, just get Alex and Jule pitted against
each other."
Alex seemed to be a long time getting "full to the neck," and Buck and
Clay finally left for the town, leaving Case to watch the boat.
When they reached the tavern there seemed to be nothing unusual going
on. There were no people standing about, and everything appeared normal
and in place.
"Now, I wonder where the boys and Rube are?" Clay said. "They ought to
be here, making a noise!"
The two found no one in the front of the house, so they made bold to
invade the kitchen. Before they reached that apartment, however, they
heard Alex's voice. They stopped and listened.
"And you take a fat 'possum and fix it up for the pan," he was saying,
"and when you've done that, take strips of fat pork and lay them
lengthwise through the dressing. Oh, yes, about the dressing! I didn't
tell you how to fix that, did I?"
Clay was so full of laugh that he exploded right there.
"Tell the cook about the sweet potatoes!" he reared, half choking with
laughter. "Perhaps you'll make a pretty good cook of him before we have
to leave the town."
Alex opened the kitchen door and looked out.
"Oh, you!" he said with a broad grin.
Then he caught sight of the new suit worn by Clay and looked toward Jule
with a wrinkling of the nose.
"Don't you wish you'd been present when they were passing 'em around?"
he said. "Now go away and let me continue my lesson to the cook. He got
up a peach of a steak for us, and I'm giving him a few instructions to
guide him in future years. Go away, now, and leave us alone. Skedaddle!"
The cook was black as the ace of spades, and was evidently a native of
the South. He stood by the cook stove with a broad grin on his face. If
he knew a lot about roasting 'possums that Alex had never heard of, he
said not a word about it!
Rube sat in the corner of the room holding his sides.
"You sure take the whole bakery!" was his comment.
"Perhaps you don't think I can cook a 'possum?" Alex announced. "Well,
just you bring on your 'possum, and I'll show you that I can! The idea!"
This was greeted with a burst of laughter.
"All right!" declared Alex, "just you bring on your 'possum! I'll show
you a thing about cooking the bird!"
"There isn't a 'possum within a thousand miles!" roared Buck.
"Now, don't yo' make too sho' o' dat!" grinned the cook. "Yo' sho' got
to show me!"
The cook went to a woodshed just outside the door and produced about the
fattest 'possum ever seen.
Immediately there was commotion in that little kitchen.
Alex bounced up and down like a rubber ball, while Jule showed his
excitement by rolling over and over on the floor.
"The cook called your bluff!" shouted Buck.
"Think that was a bluff?" asked Alex.
The lad took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves.
"I'm going to make good right now!" he explained.
The cook looked nervous about turning the 'possum over to Alex. He
finally made up his mind that the boy couldn't make much of a failure of
the cookery with him there looking on, so he permitted him to go ahead.
Buck looked dubious and Rube only laughed.
"Now you fellows get out of the kitchen!" ordered Alex. "How do you
think I can cook this 'possum with you standing around? When the meal is
ready to serve, I'll tell you."
"You don't think of eating again, do you?" asked Clay.
"Do you think I'm going to miss that 'possum? Not much, I ain't! No,
sir, that 'possum's going to be cooked, and cooked right! Then it'll be
eaten right!"
The two boys left the kitchen, accompanied by Buck and Rube, leaving
Alex and the cook to do business with the 'possum.
After leaving the tavern Clay and Jule went to the railroad station,
hoping to find a money order there. They were doubly disappointed. Not
only was there no money for them, but that was not a money-order office.
"Now what?" asked Jule as they turned away from the little station
house. "This seems to be one of our lucky trips. Anything else likely to
happen?"
"Tell you what I'd do if I was in your place," advised Rube. "I'd let
the consarned money go and borrow enough to see me through to El Paso.
That's the way I look at it."
"That's what you'd better do," said Buck.
"Guess we'll be obliged to," Clay said in a disgusted tone.
"Why didn't the clerk tell us that it wasn't a money-order office at
first?" demanded Jule.
"Perhaps he didn't know," laughed Buck. "There's sometimes a heap o'
ignorance connected with these way stations."
"I should say so!" agreed Jule.
"Now who shall we borrow of?" asked Clay.
By way of an answer Rube took the roll of bank notes from his pocket and
began stripping them off.
"How much did you say you wanted?" he asked. "Better take enough for
emergencies while you have the chance. I may be broke flat as a flounder
by to-morrow."
"This will give us a chance to get away at once," said Clay, placing the
money in his pocket. "If Alex was here, we could be on our way
immediately."
Jule broke into a laugh at the idea of prying Alex away from that
'possum.
"You'll not do it," he announced, "as long as there is a bone left. Alex
is some feeder."
"There's no hurry," Buck said, looking at his watch. "The men who stole
the boat will lie in hiding all day and go on at night. They will be on
the lookout for officers, and will do a lot of skulking. They may even
abandon the boat for a time, but they will come back to it."
"And they may put up a fight," Jule argued. "For one, I'd like nothing
better than taking a shot at them."
"They won't do much in the fighting line," Buck contended. "It all
depends on how many of us there are. There seems to be four of them and
they won't stand for more than that in the attacking party. You see," he
added, "there's the Colorado penitentiary in sight, and they'll make a
desperate run to keep out of it."
"But they may fight," suggested Clay.
"Oh, of course," answered Buck, "but we'll be on the spot, ready and
waiting for them."
It seemed to the waiting boys that there never was such a long day.
Alex, of course, had his 'possum to attend to.
When served at dinner the 'possum was declared to be the best ever. Rich
and juicy, and done to a turn, it left nothing to be desired.
The cook declared on his word of honor he had not even made a suggestion
regarding the cooking of the dainty.
"Ah sure don't need to," he insisted, "for dat lad he know all there is
to know 'bout cookin' 'possum! 'Deed he do!"
This endorsement was music to Alex's ears, and he tried hard to accept
it modestly. His three chums knew, of course, his skill in the culinary
line, but there were Rube and Buck who had to be shown.
Case had been relieved of his watch at the boat in order that he might
join the boys at dinner, and immediately after the meal was served
started away to resume his guardianship, accompanied by Jule.
Alex and Clay remained with Rube and Buck, who had provisions to buy.
They did not know how long the chase might be, and were determined to be
prepared for it.
After making their purchases they set out for the motor boat, but were
met halfway by Case and Jule with the statement that the boat had been
stolen while the 'possum was being discussed.