“Throw ’em down and out here quick!” Westy called out of the night.
Three guns immediately came tumbling out on the ground and within a few
feet of each other. Their former owners were using violent language in
deference to Bull and accusing him of being a stool pigeon, while he
vainly protested his innocence.
Westy whispered something to Rip and resumed his authoritative manner.
“Get up there, you, Bull, and line up with the gang in the back of that
car!”
Very submissively he ambled up and the gang obediently moved backward.
Westy and Rip gathered up the guns hastily and fairly leaped inside the
car, a revolver in each hand. Their captives gasped with astonishment,
giving one another, particularly Bull, a look of total disgust.
The three mail clerks and the fireman and engineer, all bound and
gagged, were sitting on the floor in a row. They presented a pitiful yet
humorous spectacle, sitting there in such dejected-looking attitudes.
Westy viewed the scene hurriedly. Mail was strewn about the whole car in
their frenzy to get what they wanted and depart. He looked the line of
gunmen over and picked out the biggest and toughest one of the lot.
“Hey, you big boy, step around and relieve those fellows of all that
linen!”
There was a perceptible movement on the part of Bull just then to make a
plunge at Westy, whose attention he thought was centered upon the big
bandit cutting the ties that bound the victims. He moved no further than
a foot, however, for the alert scout had pulled the trigger deftly and
before any one realized what had happened, the bullet winged its way
clean through the crown of Bull’s brown fedora hat and landed straight
in the niche that held the first-class mail for Larned.
“Score one for Uncle Jeb!” Westy said proudly. “It took me three weeks
to learn that.” It is needless to say that in view of his marksmanship
no one had any desire to show him further resistance.
When the poor victims were released and before they had sufficiently
regained their composure, a conductor appeared on the scene, on his way
to the engine to inquire the cause of delay. He immediately gave the
alarm to the other train employees, taking care not to arouse the
passengers.
Westy and Rip presented the guns to the perspiring clerks and during the
excitement that followed with the bandits being securely placed under
subjection, the boys slipped out unnoticed.
“Say, how do you get that way, Wes?” Rip’s disappointment was evident.
“What way?”
“Why, skipping away like that just when things were warming up nice. You
remind me of one of those birds who get up in the theater at the
beginning of the last act and steps all over your feet in his frenzy to
be the first one out. He don’t want to see any more and he don’t want
you to see any more, either. One of those nice accommodating fellows. I
always like to see the whole show, close-up and all!”
“So do I!”
“Well, Jumping Jiminy, why didn’t you stay then?”
“Why, you half-baked ham, can’t you guess?”
“No, I never was good at riddles. Why?”
“If your Uncle found out about this, the rest of the summer would be
spoiled. Keep mum about it whatever you do!”
“Oh, I’ll keep it under my hat all right, but he’s sure to find it out
somehow.”
“How? We get off this train in a few hours, you simp! Neither the
conductor on our car nor the porter saw us. They were just going in the
mail car as we slipped out, for I watched closely. Mr. Wilde will hear
about it, sure he will. But he couldn’t prove it was us after we get
off. We probably aren’t the only two boys on this outfit.”
“I get you on that point and of course I won’t make a slip, but I can’t
see where it would be so awful if he did hear about it.”
“You can’t? All right! If you want to run around all summer encased in
one of those little horsey reins with bells on like they put on boy
babies to keep them from running away when they’re first learning to
walk, why we’ll turn back right now and see the rest of the show. What
do you say?”
“Not a darned thing!”