SHERIFF PETE'S WINK
"He can't be dead!" cried Chester, trying to lift the still figure in
his arms. "The wound he received was not a serious one."
"I'll tell you what I think," Will replied.
"I think he's weak from lack of food and sleep I don't believe these
train robbers have been very considerate of him."
"But I don't see why they should misuse him!"
"They probably didn't have enough to eat themselves," Will returned.
"Don't you remember how one of them came to camp and set Tommy to
cooking for him, and how we frightened him away by saying that the
detectives were just beyond the circle of light?"
"That was the night I was loitering around the camp waiting to get to
one of you boys in order to ask you to help me find father," Chester
replied. "Don't you remember you chased me up that night, and I ran away
in the darkness, and one of the boys came upon the train robber and the
other came upon one of the detectives."
"That was Tommy and Sandy," Will answered. "George and I were asleep in
our tent when all that took place."
"I guess he's about starved all right!" Chester said lifting his father
into a sitting position. "We'd better get some of the men down here and
have him carried into the cavern."
"But look here," Will warned, "there mustn't a word be said about the
detectives coming in here after him!"
"Why not?" asked Chester.
"Because, as I have told you before, if the sheriff understands that
your father was a fugitive from justice, he'll send him to Chicago under
arrest. It will be his duty to do so, in fact."
"And what do you boys propose to do with him?"
"We're going to take him back to Chicago and keep him out of the reach
of the police. He knows something about a case we're interested in which
he will never tell if sent back to prison."
"If he's sent back to prison," Chester replied, "you may be sure that he
won't be willing to help anybody."
"He is innocent of the crime of which he was convicted, isn't he?" asked
Will. "In other words, he was jobbed!"
"That's the truth!" cried Chester.
"Well, what we've got to do is to prove that!" Will went on.
"Can you do it?" asked the son, anxiously.
"We think we can," was the reply.
"If you can, father will do anything he can for you, you may be sure of
that," Chester answered warmly.
"But the whole success of our scheme depends on our keeping your father
out of the clutches of the officers until we land him in Mr. Horton's
office in Chicago. For the first time in our lives," Will continued, "we
are opposing the officers of the law. As a rule that isn't a good thing
for Boy Scouts to do, but we think we are fully justified in the course
we are taking in this case."
"What is it you want father to testify to?" asked Chester.
"I don't think we'd better stop now to discuss that," Will answered.
"I'm sure it can't be anything dishonorable."
"It's nothing dishonorable," Will assured the boy. "We believe that your
father's testimony will save the life of a young man accused of murder.
That's all I can tell you now."
"You refer to the Fremont case?" asked Chester.
"Exactly!" answered Will. "To the Fremont suicide case."
"The police call it the Fremont murder case!"
"So you have been reading about that, too, have you?" asked Will.
"I read about it in the newspapers on the day following what took place
at the bank," Chester answered, "and I couldn't help a feeling of
contempt for the police when I understood how wrong they were."
"So you know about that, too?"
"I know all about it!" replied Chester.
Will could have hugged the boy. He had long been wondering whether the
testimony of Mr. Wagner would be accepted in court after the wound which
had rendered him mentally incompetent had been discussed by physicians.
He knew that in many cases men so injured never fully recovered.
It seemed almost like a miracle that the escaped convict's son should
know something of the matter, too. The boy knew that even if Mr. Wagner
fully recovered from his injury the police would object to his testimony
on the ground of previous insanity. If the boy could corroborate the
statements made by his father, that would prove sufficient.
Will was about to ask the lad further questions when the escaped convict
opened his eyes and looked about.
His gaze sought the searchlight first, and then rested on the face of
his son. Chester drew nearer and bent over him.
"Did I have a fall?" the man asked weakly.
He put his thin hand to his head as he spoke and drew it away covered
with blood.
"Why this seems to be a fresh wound," Chester exclaimed, anxiously.
"Yes," replied the father, "I remember of hearing the sound of guns, and
sensing the odor of powder smoke, and started to run down the passage
and fell. I remember a shooting pain in my head and that's about all
until I heard your voices and saw the light."
"Do you know where you are?" asked Will.
The escaped convict looked inquiringly at his son.
"Who is this boy?" he asked.
"A friend who has come to establish your innocence," was the reply.
"That is impossible," replied Wagner. "Every police official in Chicago
is convinced of my guilt. They jobbed me to prison in the first instance
and they are bound to keep me there!"
"Who were the detectives?" asked Will.
"Katz and Cullen!" was the answer.
"I see," Will said musingly.
"But we mustn't permit father to remain here," Chester cut in. "All
these questions can be answered at another time."
"That's right," Will agreed. "And I'll go to the cavern and ask some of
the men to carry your father out."
The boy was back in five minutes with Sheriff Pete and Deputy Seth. The
sheriff looked down pityingly on the wounded man for a moment and then
took him in his arms as if he had been a child and carried him to the
cavern, where the boys and the deputies were assembled around a roaring
fire over which Tommy and George were broiling bear steaks.
"Say, that listens good to me," George exclaimed, as the wounded man was
laid down near the rear. "It appears that we're closing this case up in
jig time."
"I guess we've got it about closed up," Will answered.
"There's only one thing we've got to do now," George added, "and that is
to get rid of those two bum detectives."
"Last call for dinner in the dining car!" cried Tommy.
They all flocked to the fire, and Tommy and George presented each with a
bear steak with the explanation that more would be forthcoming. The two
train robbers looked on longingly.
"You boys suggested the bringing in of this meat," Tommy said, after a
time, "and so I'm going to cook each of you a two pound steak."
"I guess we can take care of them all right," one of the outlaws
replied. "We've been hungry for about a week."
"Say, kid," the other outlaw cut in, "I'd like to be just your age, and
be a Boy Scout, with all the medals you've got, and money enough to
travel about the world looking for trouble and meeting it like a man!"
"You had a chance once," Tommy answered rather pityingly.
"Never," was the reply. "I was reared in the slums of New York, and
became a criminal before I was six years old. There were no Boy Scout
organizations in those days, and so I never had any one ready and
willing to point out the road that would lead to a successful life."
"Well, if there were no Boy Scouts to help you along then," Tommy
replied, "there are plenty now to show the right way."
"And they are doing it, too, so far as I can see," Sheriff Pete cut in.
"They seem to be doing a lot of good in the world."
"We try to," Tommy said, and turned back to cook the steaks promised to
the outlaws. "And most of the time we succeed," he added.
"What was it one of you boys said about these two detectives?" asked
Sheriff Pete, as he stood talking with Will, busy at the same time with
a slice of bear meat.
"Why," Will answered, "I guess the remark was that the next thing for us
to do would be to get rid of those detectives. They think they own the
whole state of Wyoming."
"Chicago men are they?" asked the sheriff.
"Yes," was the answer.
"Do they claim to be here on business?"
"Why," replied Will in a hesitating tone, "they claim to be here after a
fugitive from justice, but I guess they're on a hunting trip."
"If they're here on official business," the sheriff said, "I should
think they'd report to me."
"It may be," Will suggested, "that they are in some way associated with
these train robbers."
The sheriff looked at the boy with wide open eyes for a moment, and then
drew one eyelid down in a long, significant wink.
"You really think they stand in with these outlaws?" he asked.
"Why," replied Will, with an equally significant wink, "I think they
ought to be taken out to Lander or Green River and made to give an
account of themselves."
"Come to think about it," the sheriff said, with a smile, "I've noticed
several suspicious circumstances lately, and I think it really might be
a good thing to take them to the county seat and make them give an
account on themselves."