THE BATTLE OF WITS.
Declining the invitations to tarry a while of the men who had loaned
them their ponies, the outlaws were returning to their tents when they
heard the whistle of an engine.
"I'll bet that's the evening train," declared Frank. "Let's go down to
the station. Cole and Texas ought to be showing up soon and if they
should, it might mix things up badly if they started to ask questions
in order to find us."
"Good idea," assented his brother and accordingly the trio turned their
footsteps toward the station.
The train had brought its usual influx of people come to try the
medicinal waters of the Springs and they were thronging into the town,
some in carriages, others on foot, as the desperadoes turned into the
street that led to the depot.
Walking slowly, they scanned the faces of the new arrivals.
At last the rush was over and the forms of only a few belated
stragglers were visible.
"Guess the boys didn't come," observed Clell.
"It doesn't seem--hello, there they are," murmured Jesse hurriedly as
he espied the broad shoulders and familiar, swinging gait of his pals.
The recognition had been mutual and quickening their steps, Cole and
Texas Jack were soon grasping the hands of their leader.
Without returning their greetings the famous outlaw whispered:
"Cole, your name for the present will be Ted Bemis; Jack, yours will be
Ned Haskell." And he told them the aliases with which he had endowed
Frank and Clell and himself, adding, "we're miners from Colorado on the
way to New York to raise the wind to buy more mines."
These important instructions delivered, the bandit-chieftain, with Cole
at his side, led the way back to their tent, avoiding the square.
During the walk, the new arrivals were briefly made aware of the
incidents of the day, especially of the exclamation as Jesse's beard
was started from its place that caused them so much anxiety.
"At a rough guess, I should say it was young what's-his-name,"
vouchsafed Cole.
"Young Rozier, you mean," interposed Clell. "That's my idea, too."
"Time will tell," said the bandit-chieftain, irritably, for the
annoying lack of positive assurance was getting on his nerves. "But
there's one thing sure and that is the sooner we drop the subject the
better. Some one may overhear us."
So dark was it as they reached the camp-ground that they easily gained
their tent by skirting the park without being seen.
Cole and Texas had taken their supper on the train so there was no need
of rekindling a fire and the reunited bandits stretched out on blankets
like the spokes of a wheel, their heads forming the hub that they might
be near enough together to converse in low tones.
When the shooting up of Chouteau and their uneventful journey from
there to the Springs had been narrated, the men fell to discussing
their next move.
That the health resort was none too safe a place for them, all were
agreed but that was the only point on which they did agree.
Frank was for striking to the north, into regions unknown to them
and where, in consequence, there would be less chance of their being
recognized.
To the others, save the world-famous desperado, the suggestion seemed a
good one. But Jesse pointed out that their escapes from capture, narrow
as many of them had been, were due to the fact that their knowledge
of the country in which they had operated was so intimate that they
had been able to give their pursuers the slip, an advantage they would
forfeit should they strike into a section with whose highways and
byways they were unfamiliar.
"Well, what do you propose instead?" demanded his brother, realizing
from long association with him, that his opposition to the suggestion
was largely because he had already made his plans.
"I'm not ready to say, just yet. It depends upon what to-morrow brings
forth," returned Jesse. "There's a rich bank in Ste. Genevieve. This
man, Rozier, and his dandified son stick in my crop and I intend to be
quits with him before I do anything else."
"I should think you were already," grinned Frank. "You've saved his
daughter, called him down for offering you money and refused the girl's
request to let her sweetheart off from the tar and feathering.
"I don't know what more you want.
"If you take my advice, you'll let well enough alone and duck out of
here while we have the chance. I've got a hunch that if we stay here
we're going to get into trouble!"
With a superstitious respect for his brother's intuitions, the great
outlaw puffed at his pipe in silence for several minutes.
"I have no right to insist on your remaining here when it's only a
private grudge to be settled," said he at last. "If you boys want to
go into Nebraska, Iowa or even farther north, you may. But mind you,
you are only going to look over the ground, get acquainted with the lay
of the land and find out some likely places to raid. _There's to be no
work done till I join you._
"If you can find Bill Chadwell, take him along. He knows every hog path
in that country."
With their customary desire to be with their idol day and night when
possible, Clell and Cole announced their determination to remain with
him.
"I'd like to stay and I'd like to go," observed the man from the Lone
Star State. "I've never been so far up north and I've always wanted to."
"Then go, by all means," assented the bandit-chieftain. "I don't want
Frank to go alone, in case of accident. But the two of you ought to be
able to take care of yourselves."
The matter thus settled, it was decided that the sooner the scouts
started the better. And accordingly they saddled two of the horses,
leaving the roan which had caused so much trouble, and made ready their
clothes.
"Won't it make the people here ask questions if two men come and two go
at night?" inquired Cole.
"Oh, I'll take care of that," returned his leader. "You boys keep your
wits about you. We'll meet at the cave at Sni Mills in five weeks. Mind
the time.
"Good bye and good luck."
And watching his pals until they disappeared in the woods, Jesse pegged
down the flap of the tent, buttoned it and prepared for turning in.
At the saloons and in the gambling dens, the bandits were the chief
topic of conversation. The wildest fabrications of imagination found
ready believers. Some of those more under the influence of liquor
than others asserted they had known the rich miners when they were
grub-staking and prospecting in the mountains.
Every time the doors of the entrance swung open, an expectant hush fell
on the inmates as they turned toward them to see if the arrivals should
be the men about whom they were talking, only to be disappointed.
Wondrous tales of their drinking and gambling abilities were told by
their self-styled acquaintances and confidently these promised their
fellows that before the night was out they would see goings on that
would open their eyes. But as midnight came without any signs of the
subjects of the stories, those who had swallowed the yarns began
to grow skeptical and many a fight was the result of their freely
expressed doubts.
Those who thronged to the dancing pavilion in the hope that they might
see the heroes of the rescue at close range, perhaps even manage to
secure them as partners, were likewise disappointed at the failure
of the outlaws to show themselves. Many a maiden who had made her
toilet with elaborate care that it might attract the attention of the
rumor-created millionaires vented her vexation on her favourite swain,
causing the latter to leave in a huff. And because of these lover's
tiffs, the young people forsook the canvas at an unusually early hour.
But the disappointment of the evening was forgotten in the excitement
of the morning!
Early risers had discovered that of the thoroughbreds two were missing.
Jumping to the conclusion that their disappearance was the work of some
of Consollas' friends, these men had rushed to Jesse's tent, yelling
for him to come out only to have their, as they supposed, startling
information driven from their minds by the astonishment at seeing the
strange face of Cole and the absence of Frank.
"What's the row?" asked the great outlaw, gazing from one to another
of the bewildered faces before him, though he was well aware that the
missing thoroughbreds were the cause.
"Y--your horses, t--two of them are g--gone," stammered someone.
"I know it," returned Jesse in a quiet tone.
For a moment, he was tempted to offer no explanation, then deeming it
unwise to leave the mystery unsolved, added:
"I was obliged to send out two messengers in the night."
The provokingly matter of fact way in which he made his statement
perplexed the hearers all the more.
Only one of his companions of the day before, known to them as Sam
Sloan, did they miss, yet he had said that he had despatched two men,
and in his place was a new face.
As they tried to reconcile these facts, it suddenly dawned on them
that events had transpired during the night of which they were in
ignorance. Startled by the thought, with one accord they hurried away
without making excuses, eager to circulate the latest news about the
interesting strangers.
His face breaking into a smile as he watched their unceremonious
departure, the bandit-chieftain chuckled.
"There'll be lots of folks in this burg that won't wait to eat
their usual breakfasts in their haste to get to this tent to see
for themselves. Cole, I've a good mind to tie you inside and charge
admission for a look at you." Then dropping his banter, he continued:
"Before they come, and while we have the chance, we'll look to our
shooting-irons. There's no telling how far a calf can jump by looking
at him, and the situation may get beyond our control at any moment."
Thus recalled to the smoldering volcano of suspicious curiosity
on which they were standing, Clell and Cole inspected their guns
carefully, put new cartridges in the chambers and a plentiful supply in
their pockets.
Scarcely had they completed the task when the first of the inquisitive
crowd arrived, their number increasing each minute.
As people watch a sleeping animal in a menagerie, hoping that it may
rouse itself and do something, so the throng watched the closed flap of
the supposed miners' tent after having hurriedly verified the fact that
only the roan mare was left where the three horses had been at twilight.
One family at the resort there was, however, who were ignorant of the
change in the personnel of occupiers of the tent--the Roziers.
Agog over the coming of the detectives and the events the day would
disclose, the banker and his son had got up at an hour unheard of for
them and driven to the station in two carriages that they might get the
sleuths from the depot to their house in the least possible time and
with the least possible publicity.
Surprise at their appearance was forgotten by the regular hack and 'bus
drivers in their eagerness to secure fares from the arrivals by the
train and when they did remember them the Rozier turnouts were nowhere
to be seen.
With little difficulty, the president of the savings institution had
picked out the detectives. Quickly assuring himself that he was right,
he bundled them into the carriages and drove them rapidly to his home.
Declining to broach the reason for their summons till the men had
breakfasted, the banker took them to his den as soon as the meal was
finished.
Employing the same precautions against eavesdroppers that he had when
talking with his son, Mr. Rozier motioned them to chairs, offered them
cigars and, taking his place at his desk, laid the case before them.
"Allow me to compliment you, sir, on your lucid exposition of the
facts," remarked the man in charge of the detectives, patronizingly,
as the banker concluded. "If I had been directing the case myself I
couldn't have done it better.
"May I suggest that young Mr. Rozier be sent on his mission at once?
The sooner he makes a report on the case, the sooner shall we be able
to get to work."
Acquiescing readily, the bank president ordered his son to start, with
the injunction to keep his head about him.
Astonished at the crowd surrounding his destination so early, young
Rozier quickly learned its cause.
Perplexed by the information, he nevertheless elbowed his way to the
still closed tent flap.
After vainly trying to attract the attention of the inmates by
scratching on the canvas, he called:
"I say, Mr. Howard, let a fellow in, won't you? I'm Rozier, Forman A.
Rozier, Jr."
Although the outlaws had heard the first tampering with the tent, they
made no move till the request was uttered.
"The fun's begun," breathed Jesse to his chums as he got up from his
camp stool and unbuttoned the flap.
Inwardly glad that it was the boy instead of his father against whom he
was to match his brains, for that the visit would develop into a battle
of wits he had no doubt, the world-famous bandit threw open the canvas,
exclaiming blandly:
"This is an unexpected pleasure! Come in, won't you? Because your
fellow townsmen persist in treating us as though we were animals on
exhibition we are obliged to keep the flap down."
Jumping to the conclusion that his task was already as good as done
because of the cordiality of the greeting when he had anticipated a
brusqueness that would tax his diplomacy to overcome, the boy entered
while his host once more closed and buttoned the canvass.
Yet could he have seen the wink that Jesse sent to his pals from behind
his back, the youth would have lost his confidence.
His work which had taken but a few seconds, ended, the great outlaw
turned to his guest.
"This is Mr. Prentiss, Mr. Rozier and this is Mr. Bemis," he said
introducing Clell and Cole. "Take a camp stool, won't you? I can't
offer you a chair."
Now that he was in the presence of the men he hoped to unmask and brand
as villains, the banker's son was at a loss how to proceed and sat in
embarrassed silence after acknowledging the introductions.
Determined to leave the opening of the conversation to their caller,
Jesse held his peace, enjoying the lad's increasing discomfiture.
Taking their cues from their leader, Clell and Cole said nothing.
The pause was awkward and each moment made it more so--for young Rozier.
Try as he would, however, the lad could think of no way to make an
opening for his questions. Obviously it would not do to ask about the
mines abruptly.
Finally, getting desperate, he took out his cigar case, stammering:
"Have a--have a cigar?"
"No thank you," responded Jesse. "My partner, Mr. Bemis, brought on a
supply of a special kind we have made for us from Mexican tobacco and I
prefer those." But despite his words, the bandit-chieftain made no move
to get any.
Nettled by the refusal, for he realized that it meant that the men
before him would accept nothing, not even a smoke, from his hands, the
banker's son summoned all his courage and asked:
"Mr. Bemis wasn't here yesterday when you made your wonderful rescue of
my sister, was he?"
"No, he was not," returned the great outlaw.
"I heard that some friends of yours had come--and gone--" he
emphasized, "in the night. You should have got here before, Mr. Bemis.
I never saw such remarkable nerve in my life."
Ere Cole could reply, however, Jesse interposed:
"By the way, your recalling the incident makes me think. Were you
anywhere near me when we were punishing Consollas?"
Unable to understand at what his questioner was driving when he knew
that the latter must remember the quarrel over his sister's note, young
Rozier replied, significantly:
"I was at your elbow."
"Oh, were you? There were so many strange faces I failed to recall
yours."
"He's trying to wriggle out of refusing Sally's request by pretending
he didn't recognize me," thought the boy to himself and vowing not to
let him, he was racking his brains for some way to block him when Jesse
continued:
"I'm glad. You may be able to help me.
"While the little wretch was struggling to prevent my putting him in
the kettle, I lost a watch charm, a gold nugget, that I wouldn't part
with for ten--no, nor for twenty--thousand dollars.
"Did you see any one near me who might have picked it up, unnoticed in
the excitement?"
The question was asked quietly, with no unusual emphasis. But it was
loaded!
By it the great bandit sought to learn whether or not the banker's son
was the person who had uttered the exclamation as his beard was pulled
from his face.
Its answer would tell if the call of young Rozier was an act of
friendliness or of hostility.
The unsuspecting lad, however, accepted it at its face value,
responding:
"There was no one near you but Mr. Sloan and myself. If I had seen it,
I should have called your attention to it. Probably it was trampled in
the dirt."
As he heard the admission, Jesse's eyes grew steely.
There was no longer any doubt in his mind that his caller had
discovered his disguise. Yet it was necessary to learn the plans and
purpose of the banker before acting.
The battle of wits was on!
Instinctively the occupants of the tent realized that the apparently
harmless question and answer had changed their relations.
Not clever enough to understand that his guns had been spiked, the
banker's son, considering it an unhoped-for opportunity, prattled on:
"I suppose it was associated with some of your early diggings."
Unwilling to commit himself, the bandit-chieftain made no comment, an
omission, the youth decided, that showed his reluctance to speak about
his mines and the more eagerly he determined to make him.
"I hear you have some very valuable mines," he continued, apparently
ignoring "Howard's" silence.
"Who told you?" demanded Jesse.
"Oh, it's common talk. They say you're on your way to New York to raise
funds to buy others. If you don't mind my saying so, I think you, or
your--friends, ought to be more close mouthed. Still, for my part I'm
glad you weren't. I've some money to invest and I want to talk about
going in with you."
The ice broken, young Rozier no longer found difficulty in playing his
part and rattled on glibly.
"I asked father about it and he said he would consider it if he could
be convinced that they were good mines. You know there are so many
swindling schemes," he added maliciously.
Had he been older or more accustomed to reading men, he would have
understood from the expression in the bandit-chieftain's eyes that he
had overshot his mark. But in the blind confidence of his youth, he
rushed out the questions uppermost in his mind.
"Of course, Mr. Howard, father doesn't mean that your mines aren't all
right. What he wants to know is where they are.
"Have you any map of them or, rather, as of course you have one to show
in New York, will you let me take it and show it to father?
"He has some capitalists consulting with him at the house now and he
might be able to interest them so that it would not be necessary for
you to go to New York for the money."
The purpose to unmask him through the mines he, himself, had said he
owned was as clear to the great desperado as though he had been in the
banker's study the previous evening when the plan was unfolded.
Remembering the old adage "forewarned is forearmed," Jesse determined
to balk the attempt to catch him in the lie, yet not so bluntly as to
let the bank president know that he had discovered his purpose.
"I am deeply obliged for your father's interest," he dissembled, "but I
do not need any outside assistance. Mr. Bemis brought a gentleman here
last night who has arranged for the money and Mr. Sloan went away with
him to pass the papers.
"And now, if you'll excuse us, we have some business to discuss. Mr.
Prentiss is returning to the mines in a day or so."
Bewildered by the dashing of his hopes, young Rozier allowed himself to
be bowed from the tent.
As he stood on the other side of the canvass, Jesse's mocking laugh
reached him.
With a start, the banker's son realized that he had done all talking,
had shown his hand and learned nothing in return.
Flushing with rage, he scowled blackly at the tent, hissing:
"Wait! Just wait!" and hurried to rejoin his father and the detectives.