THE END OF THE JERVICE GANG
All that Glen could do was to follow where Chick-chick led and try to go
just as noiselessly, and to flit carefully from one screen of cover to
the next in just as unobtrusive a way. It was an old sport with
Chick-chick, but though Glen was an amateur at it he made a very good
performance.
It was not reasonable to suppose that an automobile could get very far
along such a road, yet they had traveled a quarter mile before the
tracks swung entirely away from the old path and followed a strip of
comparatively bare ground that led in toward the creek.
"There she is!" at last Chick-chick whispered. "Don't look bit like gay
old friend we left, she don't."
She did not. If it were the same car it meant that the gang, feeling
that so conspicuous a mark as the J. Jervice car originally presented
would be a fatal advertisement of their identity, and yet desirous of
making use of the car, had stripped it clean of the betraying top and
had taken away everything that could mark it for a peddler's car.
Their plan would have worked successfully but for the betraying tires,
and the sharp eye and quick mind of scout Henry Henry, commonly known as
Chick-chick.
"Are you sure it's the same?" whispered Glen.
"Surest thing on wheels," affirmed Chick-chick. "Bet you find drygoods
in the transmission case if dare look."
"Why do you suppose they've left it here?"
"Good, safe place. Nobody see. Camp not far away, reckon. Better lay
pretty low here. There's only two of us."
Late in the afternoon two tired but excited scouts found their way into
camp and proceeded to disturb Mr. Newton in his afternoon study hour.
"Is it true that there's reward of five hundred dollars for the bank
robbers?" one asked.
"I believe so," said Mr. Newton. "The sheriff himself and quite a few
deputies are trying to earn it, too. They are covering this county and
several neighboring counties, too."
"Sheriff out this way?" asked Chick-chick.
"He was in Buffalo Center this morning," replied Mr. Newton.
"We know where gang is, Mr. Newton. We want go right down get that
reward, we do."
"The reward is for their apprehension, Henry. So you see you wouldn't
get it, because, so far, you don't appear to have apprehended them."
Chick-chick's countenance fell, but he brightened again in a minute.
"We can do it all right, all right. Maybe better get sheriff help us."
He proceeded to tell Mr. Newton of their discovery.
"And you saw them so clearly you are quite sure they are the same men?"
"Yes, sir," replied Glen. "We located their camp by a line of
smoke--leastways Chick-chick did. Then we climbed a big tree near by and
looked right down on 'em. I saw Jervice and the big man, and one other
man I never had seen before."
"What shall we do about this?" Mr. Newton asked of Will Spencer, who had
been studying with him.
"Get 'em," replied Will, his eyes sparkling. "I wish I were more of a
man, so I could help."
"Hold on, Will," said Mr. Newton, kindly. "You have just as good other
work, you know. And wishing won't make you agile and active any more
than it will make these boys into grown men. What's the wise thing to
do?"
"You good, old scoutmaster!" exclaimed Will. "Of course you're right.
You being the only real man here the thing to do is to see if that
sheriff is still at Buffalo Center."
"But you ain't going to shut us out?" cried Glen and Chick-chick in
unison.
Mr. Newton and Spencer laughed at their eagerness.
"You are big fellows, both of you," said Mr. Newton. "I've no desire to
rob you of your glory or reward. You must come with me to see the
sheriff, or perhaps you'd better go alone on Henry's motorcycle to save
time. He will have to come this way to go after the men, and I've no
doubt he will want you to show the way. Perhaps he'll let me go, too.
Only no foolishness, remember--no attempt at single-handed captures--no
stepping in the way of a piece of heavy artillery just to show that you
bear a charmed life. After you've shown the way your job will be to stay
in the background."
The sheriff was still staying at Buffalo Center's little hotel.
Chick-chick was disappointed to find that he did not at all come up to
his ideas of a sheriff. Glen whose dealings with sheriffs had not been
so limited was not so surprised. The sheriff was so much like the other
farmers lounging around the hotel office that they had to inquire for
him. There was this much to say for him--he was not big, but he looked
as if he might be quick and keen.
"Better come in here," said the sheriff, leading the way into the little
parlor. "Now, tell me all about it."
Glen acted as spokesman, for Chick-chick was still quite excited.
"So you're the boys that got the car away from the peddler, are ye?"
asked the sheriff. "I reckon ye ought to know the car an' the man too.
You was expectin' to see this man Jervice, wasn't ye?"
"We were after we saw the car," Glen agreed.
"Now, don't ye reckon that mebbe, seein' the man at a distance like an'
being as you was expectin' to see Jervice an' the big man, you might
just imagined they was what you saw?"
"No, sir. It wasn't possible to be mistaken. We were near enough so we
could both see the man very clearly."
"Well; this other fellow, now; the one you never had seen before? What
did he look like?"
"Big man," said Chick-chick. "Over six foot. Black hair, no hair on his
face. I got good look once and face was all one side like this, it was."
Chick-chick drew his face to one side in a peculiar manner. Mimicry was
one of his talents.
"That's the feller," said the sheriff. "If you saw him that's the gang.
That was Black Coventry to the letter. There ought to be two more of 'em
and the gang would be complete. You can show us the way, can you?"
The sheriff had one of his deputies with him at the hotel. He deputized
two active young farmers who were present and the four started on
horseback following Chick-chick's motorcycle.
They found Mr. Newton waiting at the roadside near the camp. Chick-chick
began an introduction but the sheriff interrupted.
"Oh, I know Captain Newton. Remember when ye was Captain of Battery
A--let's see, twelve years ago, that was. Come along of us, Captain.
Ye're just the man we need an' we're short handed, anyway."
"I've no horse," objected the scoutmaster.
"Jump up back o' me. It ain't so awful far f'm what these boys say.
We'll have to foot it, anyway, for quite some distance, if we want to
s'prise 'em."
When the place where the wood-road turned off was reached the sheriff
decided to leave the horses.
"One o' you boys stay here now with the deputy an' help guard these
horses," instructed the sheriff. "Which'll it be?"
"I guess it's Chick-chick's find," volunteered Glen. "I'll stay."
"Keep your eyes sharp open," the sheriff instructed his deputy. "If
they'd get started afore we could get to their car they might slip by
us. Then, there ought to be two more of 'em somewheres around, too.
Might be comin' up any minute. They're slick."
After the men had gone Glen found it anxious work waiting with the
deputy and the horses while Chick-chick led the sheriff's posse to
glory.
"I suppose we'll hear 'em shooting most any minute," he said to the
deputy.
"Mebbe we will--mebbe we won't," replied the deputy. "We won't if things
go the way the old man intends."
"How is that?" asked Glen.
"There won't be any shootin' unless they's some break in his
calc'lations. His way don't make much allowance for it. He'll get up
there right silent an' have his men posted convenient; then he'll step
out an' say 'Come along o' me, Coventry. No good fussin'. My men got ye
dead to rights.' An' mos' generally they come."
"How about the other two men?" asked Glen.
"Mebbe they're there; mebbe they ain't. It was putty clever of 'em to
hide right around here, knowing they was looked for all over the
country."
"Don't you suppose they're staying here so as to look for that stuff in
the cave?"
"We don't take much stock in that story," said the deputy. "We don't
know that they is any cave. What they was after wasn't in no river bank,
it was in the bank of Buffalo Center."
He appreciated his little joke and chuckled over it very heartily. His
merriment, however, did not prevent him from being the first one to see
a little group coming down the main road.
"Three of 'em!" he said. "One of 'em's from your camp. Who's the other
two?"
"The scout is Matt Burton," said Glen. "The other two must be the
engineers that he found camping down here. Say, I'll tell you something.
They aren't engineers. What's the matter with them being the other two
of Jervice's gang?"
"Nothing the matter at all," said the deputy. "Lay low now, and we'll
get 'em. They're looking awful suspicious like at our tracks in the
road. They don't understand 'em. If they break an' run you stay here
with the horses an' I'll give 'em a chase."
"They've grabbed hold of Matt as if they were going to work some rough
house play with him," said Glen. "Look what they're doing."
"They think he's sold 'em out," said the deputy. "They got a notion that
he's leading 'em into something."
Just then Matt, who was not deficient in courage, made a lunge at one of
the men, broke loose and started to run. He was overtaken in a minute by
the other man who hit him such a blow as to stretch him full length in
the dust of the road.
"Hold on there, hold on," the deputy counseled Glen. "You can't do
anything chasin' after 'em. Just let 'em stay here till the sheriff gets
back an' he'll pick 'em up easy. Now, take a holt o' this gun. You
needn't shoot it, but it'll look better if you have one. I'm goin' to
sneak up a piece and get back of 'em. I'll take this rope along an'
mebbe I can git it over one of 'em. I won't be far behind 'em any time.
You stay here with the hosses an' if they seem like to pass along
without noticing don't you so much as cheep. All you got to do is mind
the hosses."
When the two men, with Matt between them, reached the turn of the road
and saw that the tracks led directly to the camp they came to a dead
halt. Glen could now hear distinctly what they said.
"It's a frame up," declared one. "This kid thinks he's smart leading us
into a trap. Back we go. Nobody won't draw on us, neither. You go first,
Jack. I'll be right next to you with my hands on your shoulders. This
smart kid'll foller me the same way. They won't nobody try no gun play
for fear of hittin' the kid. Jest as soon as we git out of range we'll
make a streak for it, an' the kid'll go with us."
The man spoke in a loud voice undoubtedly for the benefit of some person
or persons who might be supposed to be within bullet range and be
desirous of picking them off from ambush rather than risk a personal
encounter. Perhaps he had heard some warning noise. He had not made so
bad a guess, for a good marksman, concealed in Glen's position, would
have had them at his mercy.
Glen watched the peculiar parade as the three walked back up the road at
a lock-step gait that was quite fast for unpracticed performers. He would
have been glad to give some word of encouragement to Matt for he still
remembered the good turn of the day before. But his business was to
watch over the horses. It would never do to betray their hiding place to
these desperate men who might overpower him and be off before the deputy
could reach them.
[Illustration: Glen watched the three walk back up the road at a
lock-step gait. Page 198]
Where was that deputy?
He said that he would not be far behind the desperadoes at any time; but
Glen had seen no sign of him since he slipped so quietly away with his
long rope. He watched the marching figures going back along the
road--farther away--farther yet. Soon they would be feeling safe out of
range and would break and run.
Where was the deputy?
Glen found his answer even though he did not see his man. A long rope
circled through the air. It fell neatly over the three close-locked
heads and tightened suddenly as it dropped below their shoulders. There
was a frantic struggle from the tied up trio and suddenly the deputy
came into view belaying his rope to a tree.
Glen turned his eyes from this scene as he heard the noise of voices
behind him. It was the sheriff's party returning. He waved his hand to
them for speed and was glad to see the sheriff, Mr. Newton and
Chick-chick start toward him on the run. The other members of the party
were evidently convoying prisoners.
One of the men in the road had freed his hands but the deputy had
persuaded him to put them above his head, and stood in the road guarding
his capture as the relief party came up.
"So you got 'em?" exclaimed the sheriff. "That makes the haul complete.
Our three below are coming along like lambs."
"These three," said the deputy, solemnly, "being trussed up the way they
is, looks more like chickens."
"Loosen up on 'em," said Glen. "That one's a scout. You could easily
tell he isn't one of 'em. Didn't you see the way they knocked him over?"
"Yes. He's a scout," confirmed Mr. Newton, coming up. "He has simply
been deceived by these fellows, supposing they were honest men. I hope
they haven't hurt you much, Burton."
"Hurt me!" cried Matt. "They were two to one and they knocked me down
but they couldn't hurt me. Let me give this big fellow just one--"
"That'll do, young fellow," said the sheriff. "These men are in the
hands of the law, now. They'll get whatever's coming to 'em."
It was a triumphant procession that wound its way back to town. Three of
the prisoners were placed in their car which Chick-chick was called
upon to engineer under the guardianship of the sheriff. This left Glen
to ride the motorcycle alone. Still desirous to repay Matt's good turn
he offered him passage but Matt preferred to ride the sheriff's horse.
He was unable to understand or appreciate any friendly offers from Glen,
for he felt that his share in the proceedings had been ludicrous if not
contemptible and expected scant mercy from either Glen or Chick-chick.
As a matter of fact, Glen would have been very glad to have his company,
both that he might repay his good turn and that he might have the
advantage of his experience in cycling, for Glen was a rank novice and
found great difficulty in getting back to camp.
Chick-chick drove the car all the way to the little calaboose where the
sheriff expected to confine the men until train time. The sheriff
expressed himself under great obligations.
"I don't hardly know what to say about the reward, son," he said. "It'll
have to split up a good many ways so there won't be an awful big slice
for any one of us."
"I'll leave it to you," agreed Chick-chick, magnanimously. "Maybe you'd
let me speak word to Jervice."
"Sure I will. You can talk a book into his ear if you like. But that
ain't sayin' as he'll say anything to you."
The sheriff had guessed correctly. Mr. J. Jervice was singularly
uncommunicative.
"What's meanin' of 'Twin Elms' and 'Deep Springs'?" asked Chick-chick.
Mr. Jervice shook his head at such foolishness.
"You won't get any good out of it," insisted the inquisitive boy. "Give
me your chart now and I'll use influence with Judge to get you easy
sentence, I will."
Mr. Jervice shook his head and turned away.
"What's that young fool saying about 'Twin Elms' and 'Deep Springs'?"
asked the big leader.
Mr. Jervice muttered something in reply.
"You take it from me, young feller," said the man, angrily. "The thing
you'd orter do is to git them names out o' your mind. They ain't no such
places."
Chick-chick went back to receive the adulation of the camp but he was
not satisfied.