THE OUTLAWS AVOID A TRAP.
As Cole drew rein when they were out of sight from the roadway and
prepared to dismount, his chief forbade him:
"We're not safe yet, boy," he cautioned. "Dillaby and his fellows will
turn heaven and earth to find us. Our getting away from old man Prior's
was pretty raw work for detectives who are supposed to be onto their
jobs and rather than be hauled up on the carpet to explain to their
superiors, they'll work as they never have before.
"I didn't even propose to stay at Brett's longer than to make an
examination of Clell. Some of the posse must know him and they'll
suggest it to the man-hunters and there'll be a merry old raid."
Yet even the bandit-chieftain was surprised at the suddenness with
which his prophecy was fulfilled.
One of the men who was riding with Higgins did, indeed, know of the
lonely cabin. Many a day he had passed beneath its thatched roof,
waiting for the night to come that they might go out to shoot the deer,
lured by the flaring torches, called "jacks" in hunter's parlance, they
had placed nearby.
As he noted the section in which the fugitives had vanished, the hut
immediately flashed into his mind and without delay he communicated his
thought to the detectives.
"It's worth trying," cried the man-hunters, delightedly. "One of 'em
is surely wounded and Jesse's probably making for the cabin either to
leave him or wait for him to recover so they can go on. When--"
"Isn't there another trail by which we can reach the cabin?"
interrupted Jones. "If we follow the one they took with so many horses
they would be more than likely to hear us. But if we could arrive there
first or from a different direction we'd stand a mighty good chance of
getting them for keeps."
Others acquainted with the country were called into consultation as the
fellow who had suggested the lonely cabin declared that he knew only
the way the outlaws, had apparently taken.
"I don't know of no other trail," drawled an old, grizzled farmer, "but
I _do_ know a place whar we kin git within a few rods of Brett's an' by
goin' through fields, too."
"Then take us there. A hundred dollars if we arrive before Jesse,"
returned Higgins.
"It's up to you," grinned the man. "If you kin ride, we'll git thar. It
ain't no josh about the money, is it?" he added, with Yankee shrewdness
seeking to make sure of the reward before he showed the way.
"No, sir," rejoined the Pinkerton. "All you've got to do is to get us
there in a hurry and you'll earn the easiest hundred dollars you ever
did."
"I reckon that's right," grinned the farmer. "Come on." And heading
diagonally across the fields toward the woods, he raced along through
the grass, taking the fences and stonewalls with an ease that would
have put many a pink-coated, society huntsman to the blush.
So hot was the pace set by the guide that even those of the posse
accustomed from childhood to the saddle were forced to exert themselves
to keep up and the detectives were soon left straggling as best they
could, barely managing to keep the others in sight.
"It looks as though you'd be out your hundred plunks," laughed Jones.
"It certainly does and I hope to goodness I am. You don't seem to grasp
the fact that your 'Uncle Dudley' knew what he was doing when he made
that proposition."
The questioning glances bestowed upon the detective by his comrades
showed that they had not, indeed, suspected that there was a hidden
meaning to the offer.
"If these Rubes do get there ahead of Jesse, they'll be obliged to
fight or run. If they do the latter, I'll save my hundred; if they give
battle, which from their state of mind I should think more likely, the
whole thing'll be over before we arrive on the scene and there won't
be any danger of our bodies offering a stopping place for any of the
cut-throat's bullets."
The declaration was made with all the satisfaction of a man who had
consummated a clever bargain and he looked from one to another of his
fellows complacently.
None of them were loath to be saved from exposing themselves to the
guns of Jesse and his pals and as they realised that the innocent
proposition had obviated this danger, the spirits of the man-hunters
rose rapidly and they laughed and joked as they rode along.
But in their glee, they forgot the old adage, "he who laughs last
laughs best."
For the very eagerness of the grizzled farmer to win the hundred
dollars defeated the detectives' purpose.
The distance to the cabin was almost a mile less by the short cut
through the fields than by the path through the woods by which the
desperadoes were advancing.
By hard riding, the posse gained the edge of the forest and, under the
guidance of the old man, without much trouble made their way to the
clearing in which Brett's hut stood.
No dogs, horses or men were in sight as the man-hunters cautiously
peered from the underbrush before riding into the open.
"The devils either ain't got hyar yit or they're inside the cabin,"
declared the farmer.
"Thar's Brett's padlock on the door, so they ain't inside," asserted
another.
"Hooray! I've won my hundred! Hey, you fellows, hurry up! I want my
money!" shouted the guide, slapping his thighs in joyful anticipation
of the reward.
In his excitement, the man had bellowed the words and his stentorian
tone woke the echoes in the trees.
Blissfully ignorant of the change of course of their pursuers, the
notorious bandits were picking their way along the trail when the shout
rang through the woods.
Instantly Jesse and Cole drew rein, staring at one another.
"What does that mean?" asked the latter.
"You've got me," rejoined his chief. "I couldn't catch the words, but
it behooves us to be careful."
And with eyes and ears alert, the outlaws again advanced. But their
assurance was gone.
That something was transpiring of which they were ignorant, yet which
vitally concerned them, each of them believed. So strong did this
feeling become at last, that Cole bade his chief wait in the forest
while he went forward to reconnoitre.
At first, the world-famous desperado would not listen to the
suggestion, declaring that if either of them went, he would. But his
opposition was finally overcome by his chum's argument that it would be
less disastrous for him to be captured than his chief and, picking out
a thicket several rods from the trail they had been following, Jesse
concealed himself to await the result of the scouting expedition.
Leaving his horse behind, the eldest of the Younger brothers glided
away among the trees, now dodging from one trunk to another, now
dropping to his knees, but ever with the silence and stealth of an
Indian brave.
The roar of the guide had been heard by the detectives as well, and as
it broke on the air, Higgins cursed the man roundly.
"He'd wake the dead," he growled. "If Jesse's in these woods, he'll get
wise in a jiffy. Confound the idiot, anyhow."
"Don't fly off the handle so," soothed Jones. "The bandits probably
know we're after them. They'll think the shout came from behind and
ride all the faster to reach the cabin to get their nags hidden before
we get there.
"Come on. I want to be in on some of the fun."
But when the detectives arrived at the edge of the woods, they were
confronted by the fact that they were ignorant of the direction to take
to reach the rest of the posse.
"Perhaps they'll shout again," hazarded one of their number. Yet,
though they listened intently, no further sound came from either the
posse or the winner of the hundred dollars.
At the end of five minutes, the detectives were unable longer to stand
the suspense.
"Hey, some of you! Come and show us the way!" halloed Higgins.
Instead of obeying, however, the countryfolk yelled for them to ride in
a straight line from a clump of beeches.
Unfamiliar with the different kinds of trees, the professional
man-hunters were unable to recognize the beeches and quickly made the
fact known, whereupon the grizzled farmer, who had acted as guide for
the others, returned to them.
After separating from his chief, Cole had laid his course so that he
would come out on a little rise in front of Brett's hut between it and
the field in which the Pinkertons were.
Unaware of their presence, the outlaw was mounting the elevation when
the cry from the detectives came to him.
Dropping flat on the instant, he listened for the response, peering
about to see if he had run into an ambuscade.
But as the answer rang out from the opposite side, he realized that
some of the men had reached the cabin.
Surprised at finding himself between them, in danger of discovery by
one party or the other, Cole lost no time in wriggling down the little
hill.
It was enough for him to know that some of the man-hunters had reached
Brett's ahead of Jesse and himself and, without trying to ascertain how
strong was their force, he bounded away to apprise the world-famous
desperado of the situation.
"By thunder! It's a lucky thing you went ahead, boy," exclaimed the
latter as his pal imparted the startling information.
"It would have been a pretty mess if we'd stumbled into the whole kit
and boodle of 'em.
"We'd have had about as much show of getting out alive as a snowball
has in the hot place.
"But we can't stay here. They'll get suspicious if we don't show up
right soon and scour the woods for us. Besides, we've got to get Clell
to some place where we can put him to bed. I looked at his wound while
you were gone. It's a nasty one. His left shoulder's shattered. I don't
believe he'll ever be able to use it again.
"The question is, where can we take him where he'll be safe?"
"The only place I know of is Uncle Snuffer's, over near Chalk Level,"
replied Cole after several moments' deliberation. "He'll be all right
there for a couple of days and as soon as we know how he's coming out,
Uncle Snuffer can move him, if you want."
Never having heard of the relative of his chum, the great outlaw asked
as to the location of the house and if the man could be trusted.
"Theodoric Snuffer'll do anything for money," rejoined his nephew. "If
you offer him ten dollars, with a promise of more if he takes care of
Clell and a threat of killing him if he doesn't, he'll be mighty sure
to try to earn the money."
"Then it's Snuffer's for us," returned Jesse, smiling at the
uncomplimentary description of his uncle the eldest of the Younger
brothers had portrayed.
The woods in which the bandits were, lay about half way between Monegaw
Springs and Chalk Level and without more ado, they headed for the
latter town, advancing as rapidly as they could.
During the wait for the return of his pal, after he had learned
the extent of Clell's injury, the bandit-chieftain had dressed and
bound the wound with some of the lotions and salves he had received
from the mysterious woman of the cave on his last trip into Mexico,
which he always carried in a little case in the bosom of his shirt,
administering an opiate to relieve the pain when he had finished.
Warned by their narrow escape from the trap laid by the Pinkertons, the
two desperadoes rode with eyes and ears open.
Without misadventure, they reached the one-storied house occupied by
Cole's uncle when the outlaw again went ahead of his chief to see that
no inquisitive neighbors were there.
As he stole up to the door, he was disappointed to hear the sound of
voices from within yet, as he listened, his disappointment changed to
delight.
The voices were those of his brothers Jim and John!
Quickly making his presence known, Cole waved aside their avalanche of
questions by stating that Jesse, with the disabled Clell, was awaiting
his return and without beating about the bush asked his uncle if he
would shelter the wounded outlaw till they could find some other place
for him.
His consent given, the oldest of the Younger brothers returned for his
chief and soon they were in the house while their weary horses were
contentedly munching bounteous feeds of corn and oats in the barn.
When Jesse had put Clell to bed and made pecuniary arrangements that
were entirely satisfactory to the avaricious Snuffer, for his care, he
rejoined Jim and John in the kitchen.
"This _is luck_, finding you boys here," he declared as he lighted his
pipe. "Now we can carry out my plans without delay. I was afraid, after
Clell was knocked out, that it might take some time to round any of you
up. But your being here enables us to start to-night."
Delighted at the prospect of once again participating in the wild deeds
of their idol, John and Jim eagerly asked his plans. But with a nod
toward their uncle, the great outlaw bade them wait till they were on
the way.
Realizing the wisdom of not letting the miser know too much, they fell
to exchanging their experiences since they last had met, a diversion
that kept them engaged during supper and till well into the evening.
Back in the woods around Brett's cabin, the man-hunters were riding
hither, thither and yon, beating the underbrush for the outlaws who
had escaped them and searching the ground for the hoof prints of their
horses that they might learn in what direction their quarry had
disappeared. But the falling twilight made the task fruitless.
When Higgins and his fellows had been guided to the hut, they hastily
stationed the members of the posse in the woods surrounding the cabin
that they might not be in sight as the expected bandits arrived, yet in
such positions that they could pour a deadly hail of bullets into both
them and their horses.
But before his neighbours scattered to take their places, the grizzled
farmer exclaimed:
"I want my hundred. I got you hyar afore the outlaws an' I want it now
so's I'll be sure to git it. You may not be alive to give it to me
after they git hyar."
This none too cheerful suggestion did not make the offerer of the bonus
any more eager to pay it, especially as the affair had not turned out
in the manner he had outlined to his companions as they crossed the
fields, and he tried to hedge.
But the guide was not to be denied.
"If you don't fork it over an' right off, I'll ride into the woods
yellin' to Jesse James to look out," he threatened.
Confronted by such a contingency, Higgins had no recourse but to pay,
which he did forthwith.
As minute after minute went by without either sight or sound of the
desperadoes, the man-hunters in the underbrush began to grow restive
and talked among themselves.
Freely was the opinion expressed by those of them who were old hunters
that their quarry had either been scared off by the hails of the
detectives or had never intended to hide in the lonely cabin.
Jones, however, insisted upon waiting, arguing that the bandits,
believing themselves safe when they took to the forest, were only
riding leisurely and would soon appear.
But when a half hour had passed without their showing up, even he was
convinced that their plans had miscarried and ordered the posse to
scour the woods.
And as they searched, the man who had won the hundred dollars was the
only cheerful one among them though he wisely kept as far from the
vicinity of the disgruntled Higgins as he could.
Not till it was so dark that the members of the posse had difficulty in
distinguishing their fellows was the search given up, however.
Too crestfallen to speak, the detectives gave assent by their silence
to the suggestion to return to the Springs and rode far behind the
others, hoping against hope that some of the towns warned by Dillaby
might have reported the capture of the world-famous desperado.
As the reader knows, no such announcement greeted them and in despair
they wired to the office in Chicago.
The hours elapsing before the reply came were not made happy for the
man-hunters by the townsfolk of the Springs and when their instructions
read for them to remain in the village till the arrival of Captain
Lull, who would take charge of the pursuit, their cup of bitterness was
filled to the brim.
But almost at the very moment that the orders were received by the
detectives, Jesse, Cole, John and Jim rode from the yard of Theodoric
Snuffer.