SPRINGING THE TRAP
There was much that must be done before they could feel satisfied they
had their mantrap arranged. Jack realized that if the party who played
the part of local agent for the counterfeiter gang had been kept from
coming to secure the fresh supply of bogus bills by the threatening
storm, he was likely to make his appearance at almost any time, since
all danger from the electrical disturbance was now past.
They finished their little supper without wasting any more time, after
which the matter of hiding all traces of their presence was taken up.
“See if you can find any water outdoors, Perk,” Jack was saying, as he
contemplated the red embers of their late fire. “Seems to me I stepped
in some sort of a puddle while coming up to the door. Here’s an old
rusty can that looks as if it’d hold a quantity—I want to dash it on
these coals so as to cool them off. That done we’ll find some way to
hide, and watch developments.”
Perk sized up the situation cleverly enough, and lost no time in setting
about doing as his pal suggested. When he came back he was carrying the
rusty can, which did leak a trifle, but then that made no particular
difference, so long as enough water remained to put the fire out.
It sizzled, and steamed a bit but Perk distributed the fluid contents of
his can with such discretion that all this was speedily brought to a
finish, with the last red ember cooled off, leaving a dead little pile
of wood ashes as the only reminder of their blaze.
“Now that’s settled, partner,” said the always ready Perk, “what comes
next on our program?”
Jack had his hand electric torch in use, for otherwise they must have
been left to grope around, since the clouds continued to drift past in
clusters, shutting out most of the moonlight.
“We must gather up everything here that might give us away, for like as
not the fellow’ll fetch some kind of a light along with him—lantern it
may turn out to be, because he knows its apt to be pretty dark inside
the old shack, and he can’t do much just by fumbling around.”
“Yeah! that’s right, boss,” returned Perk, commencing to gather up any
and all their scanty belongings, not forgetting that convenient rifle of
his. “But I say, how ’bout the bus—won’t he lamp the thing settin’
there in the open an’ ain’t it apt to give him a bad start?”
Jack had duly considered that very point in making up his plans, and was
ready to meet the situation.
“Taken it all in all, buddy, there’s small danger of that happening,” he
went on to tell Perk. “First, remember, the ship lies on that side of
the shack away from the spot where I glimpsed those lights and if he
comes along in a direct line from the town there isn’t one chance in
three of him noticing it. Even if he does I reckon he’ll feel dead
certain only his own messenger’d be flying in this region—he may never
have seen another crate besides the one sent out by Slippery Slim.”
“She sounds good to me, Jack an’ I’m willin’ to take a shy at the
target, if so be you guess it’s straight goods, all wool’n a yard wide.
Let’s go!”
Accordingly both passed out of the deserted shack that had proved such a
fortunate harbor for them after the late storm. Jack knew what they must
do in following up the little plan he had framed, with a view of giving
the suspect the shock of his life and without any further preliminaries
he set about carrying out the few details.
“There’s a chink or two in this further wall,” he went on to say, in a
low voice, next door to a whisper, “that will furnish us means for
keeping tabs on what’s going on inside. We’ll settle down there, and
just wait. As luck has it that side of the shack is away from the moon,
which is all in our favor, in fact everything seems to be arranged just
to suit our plans.”
“Bully set-up, boss, couldn’t be better for a fact,” agreed the hopeful
Perk, who firmly believed in the element of Luck, and was immensely
gratified to discover how that little god was working over-time in their
favor—according to his way of thinking it was always “better to be born
lucky than rich.”
“How about it?” whispered Jack, after they had commenced to crouch down
in the darkened spot he had selected.
“Just great, that’s all,” Perk assured him, “show me where one o’ them
cracks c’n be located, partner, an’ then I’ll be okay—all fixed.”
Jack obliged by directing his chum’s hand to an opening, through which
it would be easy enough to keep watch over any happening inside the
shack.
“Next we’ll creep over to this further corner, and try to find out when
he comes along,” continued Jack. “From now on, Perk, keep your tongue
between your teeth—no talking, remember, but if it does seem to be
absolutely necessary, put your lips close to my ear, and whisper—get
that?”
“Nuff sed, boss, I’m on,” came faintly from the figure crouching at
Jack’s side, after which abject silence fell upon the scene.
A little later on Perk, now that his hearing was strained so as to pick
up any kind of sound, however slight, caught the barking of a watchdog;
it seemed to be at a considerable distance from the shack, and he judged
there might be a couple of miles lying between. This was not a great
amount of ground to cover, if only the inducement were sufficiently
urgent and that fat packet of enticing bank bills, supposed to be
secreted under the adobes of the old hearth, must represent an alluring
prize, capable of drawing a chap who was fond of “easy money” out of his
snug home at this unseasonable hour of the night, and indulging in a
little hike, for which effort he would fancy himself well repaid.
Some time passed.
They lay there just back of the comer of the dilapidated and abandoned
shack, waiting, listening, and frequently feeling a little thrill when
some soft sound came stealing to their ears.
Then Perk plainly heard what was surely a low cough, such as might be
caused by a sudden tickling in the throat. Some one was undoubtedly
approaching the spot, and coming from the west, where they understood
the prairie hamlet, or village, lay at the foot of a small ridge.
He merely touched his companion’s right arm to let Jack know something
was in the wind. The cough was repeated, so that Perk chuckled softly to
himself, as if more than ever convinced that luck was bent on handing
them out further fat plums.
Jack was already creeping back so as to reach the spot where those
convenient peepholes could be found and of course Perk imitated his
example. Thus it came about they were in complete readiness to make good
use of their eyes when a slight scratching sound came from within, and a
tiny flash announced that the newcomer had struck a match.
Perk could see him there down on his knees, and intent on applying his
lighted match to the wick of a lantern he had evidently fetched along
for this very purpose. If Perk could have analyzed the feeling that
possessed him just then he must have compared it to the exultation of a
cat when about to make a jump upon a sparrow, close up to which he had
managed to hide, all prepared for the finishing act of the ambush.
No sooner had the man succeeded in lighting his lantern than with eager
hands he commenced lifting the adobe under which Jack had again artfully
placed the bait in the shape of that tempting packet of bogus notes.
How eagerly he pounced on the contents of his queer _cache_, all the
avariciousness of a miser handling his hoard was displayed and at the
same time he looked hurriedly from one side to the other, as though his
guilty soul, conscious of having thus broken the law of his country, was
already seeing the long arm of Justice stretching out menacingly toward
him.
Jack evidently had seen enough to satisfy him the genuine criminal was
in focus, and that there could be no miscarriage of Justice in effecting
his capture with the goods upon him. He was creeping toward the open
door of the shack, evidently bent on taking the slick partner of the
counterfeiter chief by surprise.
Perk lost no time in crawling at his pal’s heels, bent on having a hand
in the closing scene of the little drama—he wanted to see with his own
eyes just how such a slimy beast would take his “bump” when he found the
meshes of the net closing around him.
They were soon looking in at the open door. The man still knelt there on
the hard earthen floor of the shack, and appeared to be nervously
fumbling the sheaf of bills, as though trying to count them, and be
assured that he had received the full amount to which he was
entitled—that there had been no “holdout” attempted.
Perhaps one of them happened to make a slight sound—either that, or
else the man’s guilty soul caused him to fancy he heard something for he
turned his head. It chanced that the light of the lantern fell full upon
his dark face, and disclosed the distended eyes filled with terror, as
well as the expression so ghastly that passed athwart his countenance.
“Put ’em up!” commanded Jack, sharply, in a voice that would brook no
nonsense and as if mechanically influenced to obey, the wretched trapped
distributor of bad notes raised both hands, the packet falling to the
floor as if his nerveless fingers could no longer retain their grip.
Jack and Perk stepped blithely into the lighted shack, the former with
his ready automatic covering the badly shaken rogue, Perk trailing his
rifle in a suggestive way, as if able to back his boss up on the
slightest provocation.
First frisking the other, and removing a gun from his back pocket, Jack
made a motion with his hand as he set Perk to work.
“Get the bracelets on him, partner, then we’ll ask him a few leading
questions before we make up our minds what the next step’ll be.”
“But—hold on, Mister,” whined the poor devil, all aquiver as he
groveled there on his knees; “I ain’t done nawthin’—this hear ain’t my
stuff—I jest suspicioned Jud he must a had somethin’ hid out this way,
’case he kep’ comin’ an’ agoin’, so I kim tuh see what it mout be. Now I
knows he must a robbed thet bank over in Tucson when he went off with a
gang he runs with.”
“Stow that gab,” said the disgusted Perk, “that’s all too flimsy to
wash. We got you to rights an’ where the hair’s short, an’ you’ll have a
chanct to see what the inside o’ the pen at Atlanta’s like. This here’s
counterfeit long-green, an’ you knows it, mister,” with which cutting
remark he snapped a pair of steel handcuffs upon the other’s wrists with
the skill only one accustomed to handling such “safety-first”
contraptions could display, proving that for one of Slippery Slim’s
active lieutenants the show was indeed over.