TOM'S STRATEGY
Calling us inside the tent and changing our bayonet candlestick to a
position where it would be protected from the wind, while the light
would still shine on the prisoner through the open tent door, Tom, in
a low voice, began giving us the talk that we intended Tucker should
overhear.
"Now, men," began the old man, "the objects of our expedition are so
nearly accomplished that I thought I'd better explain the situation to
you more fully so that you will clearly understand the parts you are to
play in our future movements. Everything is working out, so far, just
as the captain planned it. I don't believe that anybody along the road
or any of these jayhawkers suspects us of being soldiers or anything
else but jest what we've told 'em, that we are three wolf hunters goin'
out to the buffalo range. There's nothin' military about our team
an' camp outfit except the Sibley tent an' our rifles, an' lots of
citizens use them; an' laying aside our uniforms an' puttin' on these
new buckskin togs makes us look like three tenderfeet tryin' to imitate
frontiersmen. I must give our captain credit for long-headedness, for
'twas him planned the whole expedition."
"An' I give the captain credit," interrupted Jack, "for selectin' a
sergeant, among all the non-coms of the company, who could carry out
his plans to the letter."
"Thanks," returned Tom with a wink. "An' the two privates that were
selected to go with the sergeant shows that our captain knows his men."
"Now," continued Tom, "ef things turn out as they look now, I think our
trip'll end right here, for we've got our game purty nigh bagged. The
captain, with the company, has kept just far enough behind us to keep
out of sight, an' to-night they're about ten miles back on the road;
an' ef he gits the message I sent to him this afternoon, which I'm sure
he will, they ought to be here, or over about the store, rather--for
there's where I promised to meet 'em--a little after midnight."
I could see that our prisoner was taking a keen interest in Tom's
remarks, craning his neck forward and turning an ear toward the tent
door in an attitude of attentive listening.
"I have arranged with the boy," continued the old veteran, "who carried
my message back to the captain, to guide the company up to the store
an' to meet me there not later than two o'clock to-night. An' this boy
has been down to the jayhawkers' camp an' knows the lay of the land
all around there; an' when I join the captain an' company the boy is
to guide us all to the camp, or nigh enough so that the captain can
string the company all around 'em; an' as soon as it's light enough
we'll close in on 'em an' make sure that nary one gits away. From what
Jack says, they are all pretty full of whiskey an' will be apt to sleep
sound, an' it'll be an easy matter to gobble the whole caboodle."
"Sh, sergeant," I said in a loud enough whisper for the prisoner to
hear. "Don't talk so loud--the jayhawker might hear you."
"Oh, I don't think he could hear what I say, 'way out there; but it
won't make much difference ef he does, fer he'll never live long enough
to profit by what he might hear, for he's pretty nigh as good as a dead
man right now. His time's short."
Tucker had dropped his head forward--in our direction--as far as he
could lean, and had closed his eyes as if asleep, but was trying to
catch every word that was said.
"But, sergeant," I asked Tom, "what will the captain do with the
jayhawkers after he takes 'em in--take 'em back to Leavenworth as
prisoners?"
"Not much," replied the old man. "He has his orders from General Hunter
to exterminate these jayhawkers wherever he can catch 'em--to shoot
or hang 'em; an' you know our old captain is jest the man that'll
take delight in carryin' them orders out to the letter. We've heard
complaints enough from people along the road to satisfy the captain
that these rescals are entitled to no mercy, an' you bet they'll get
none from him."
"But, sergeant," inquired Jack, "what will we do with this feller? Hang
him in the mornin'?"
"No; unless he should try to get away, according to my orders, we'll
have to keep him till the company gits here an' then turn him over
to the captain. It'll only delay his hanging a little while, for the
captain'll fix him quick enough. But ef he should accidentally get
loose an' run, why, shoot him, of course."
"Well, I'm sorry," said Jack, "that we can't hang him ourselves as soon
as daylight comes, fer I promised him that, an' I always like to make
my words good."
"Now," continued Tom, "I want you two men to keep a close watch of him
an' give him no chance to give us the slip, for that'd spoil all our
plans."
"We'll see that he don't get away."
"Well, as I've got to meet the captain an' company over at the store
a little after midnight, I'll lie down an' try to git a little sleep,
an' you an' Jack'll have to divide the time between you, guardin'
the prisoner, for, of course, I'll not be able to get back here till
some time after daylight, an' when I come it'll be with the company.
I guess," added Tom after a pause, "I'd better ride the jayhawkers'
horse over to meet the company; he'll make a better mount for me than
one of our broncos."
"Yes, do so," said Jack; "he's a good one, I think." Then he added
pleadingly: "But, sergeant, is they no way we could fix it so that me
an' Peck could go with you on this round-up? S'pose we go out to the
barn an' hang this feller to-night, or shoot him, an' say he tried to
run--then we could all go."
"No," replied Tom decidedly, "that won't do at all. Remember the old
saying, 'It's a good soldier that obeys orders,' an' we've got our
orders to hold any and all prisoners we may chance to take and turn
'em over to the captain. Much as I'd like to have both of you along,
you must stay an' take care of the camp an' prisoner. But I'll speak
a good word to the captain fer you, an' I think I can safely promise
that you'll both be made corporals as soon as there's vacancies in the
company."
"Well," said Jack sorrowfully, "I suppose we'll have to stan' it; but I
hate like blazes to break my promise to the jayhawker, for I told him
he could depend on bein' hung at daylight."
"But, sergeant," I put in, "won't the jayhawkers down at their camp,
waiting for their chief, suspect something wrong when he don't show up?"
"No, it ain't likely. They were all pretty full on leaving the store,
Jack says, an' they'll be apt to go right to sleep on gettin' to camp
an' think no more about it till mornin'. An' ef they do happen to miss
him they'll think he got too drunk to git back to camp an' so laid out
some'ers.
"Now, Jack," said Tom in concluding this conversation, "you may as well
put that candle out an' take post outside where you kin keep an eye on
the prisoner. An', Peck, you'll take a turn around camp, to see that
the animals are all tied securely, an' then turn in, an' you an' me'll
be tryin' to get what sleep we can afore it's time for us to go on."
As we came out of the tent the captive seemed to be just rousing up
from a nap he pretended to have been taking and whined:
"Men, would you mind loosenin' these strings around my wrists and
ankles a little mite? They're cuttin' into my flesh."
"Well," replied Tom compassionately, "we don't want to torture a man
unnecessarily. It'll be enough to put him to death properly, when the
time comes, without keepin' him a-sufferin' so long. Loosen up them
cords a little, Jack. There won't be much danger of his gettin' away,
without you should go to sleep, an' I know you won't do that."
Jack complied with Tom's instructions with apparent reluctance,
grumbling as he did so. He purposely slackened the cords on the wrists
so much that the man would probably be able to slip his hands out of
them, seeming to rely on his watchfulness and shotgun to prevent the
possibility of an escape. Then bringing out a camp-chair, the Irishman
sat down with the shotgun across his lap while I made a tour of the
camp as directed. Then joining Tom in the tent, I put out the light and
we pretended to turn in for a sleep. In reality we lay down near the
open tent door, where, having the prisoner between us and the white
wagon cover, we could see every motion he might make, for it had been
arranged that Jack should apparently go to sleep in his chair and let
the jayhawker have a chance to get away.
Jack had prudently taken his seat far enough from the prisoner so that
the latter could not, after freeing himself, spring upon him and seize
his shotgun, and Tom and I, in anticipation of such an effort, lay down
with pistols ready to defeat the move should it be attempted. We had
chained the dog far enough away to be out of reach of the jayhawker,
for fear that he might catch the fugitive and thus spoil our scheme.
Tucker remained in his fixed position on the wagon wheel an
exasperatingly long time before he began to make any move toward
freeing himself, and he remained so still that I began to think that he
had fallen asleep in spite of his uncomfortable position.
After manifestly keeping awake for a reasonable time so as to give his
actions a semblance of reality, Jack began to nod in his chair, and
finally let his head drop against the back of his seat, very naturally,
but in a position that would enable him, through nearly closed eyes, to
watch every move of the prisoner; and then the Irishman began to snore.
Tom and I responded by doing our share of hard breathing, and now the
captive began to show some signs of life.
In the dim light I could see him--silhouetted against the white
wagon cover--leaning over to his left and working his right arm as
if slipping the hand out of the loop that held it to the wheel. When
that hand was free he resumed his original position, kept perfectly
still for a moment, and, when apparently assured that we were all
still asleep, he dropped his free right hand slowly to his waist and
carried the hand to his mouth, evidently having drawn his pocket-knife
and opened a blade with his teeth. Instead of untying the bonds on his
other hand and ankles he had concluded that the quickest and quietest
way was to cut them.
After replacing his right hand in its former position on the wheel,
watching Jack closely for a moment, and listening intently to our
steady, hard breathing, he quietly reached over with the knife in his
free hand and cut the string that held his left wrist to the wheel;
then replacing both hands on the wheel again for a moment as if tied,
he looked earnestly at Jack and then turned an ear toward our tent
door.
Assured by our snoring that we were all asleep, he reached down and cut
the cords that held his ankles, after which he gave another earnest
look at Jack, took a step out from the wheel, and no doubt intended to
steal quietly out to his horse and mount him; but as soon as he started
from the wagon the dog gave an angry growl and sprang the length of his
chain toward the escaping jayhawker.
Knowing that his flight would now be discovered, Tucker quickly darted
around the wagon, to get out of the range of Jack's shotgun, with Found
lunging on his chain and barking furiously.
Jack sprang to his feet, calling to the fugitive, "Halt! halt!" as he
rushed around the wagon, followed by Tom and me, only to see the form
of the jayhawker disappearing rapidly in the darkness. Still calling
out "Halt! halt!" Jack let off one barrel after another of his shotgun,
but high over the head of the retreating ruffian, merely to accelerate
his speed. Tucker made no attempt to get his horse and was probably
only too glad to get away with a sound carcass.
After chasing him out on the prairie a little way, calling excitedly to
one another to mount and follow the fugitive and try to head him off
at some point toward the jayhawkers' camp--all to impress Tucker, in
case he heard us, of the earnestness of our pursuit and our anxiety to
recapture him--we returned to our tent to chuckle over the success of
Tom's strategy.
"'Tain't likely," observed Tom, "that he'll fool away time hanging
around here to try to get his horse. He's scared bad, for sure, an'
no doubt b'lieves every word of that yarn I got off about the company
of cavalry; but, to be on the safe side, Jack, you'd best bring the
black horse up here an' tie him to the wagon wheel that his former
master jest vacated, an' then turn Found loose, an' I'll guarantee no
prowler'll come nigh our camp without our gettin' due notice of it."
"Holy smoke," exclaimed Jack, still commenting on the jayhawker's
escape, "didn't he run! When I run 'round the wagon after him I could
have shot him easy, ef I'd wanted to, fer he lost so much ground
a-zigzaggin' as he run, to keep me from hittin' him when I shot, that
he hadn't got very far ahead of me. But after I let off both barrels
of the shotgun he struck a bee-line fer the timber, only hitting the
ground in high places. He'll lose no time in getting back to his camp
an' rousing up his men an' telling 'em about the company of cavalry
that's comin' after midnight to surround their camp an' hang or shoot
every mother's son of 'em. What a time the half-drunken robbers'll
have a-saddling up in the dark an' gettin' away from there in a hurry.
They'll put as many miles as they can between them an' their ol' camp
before that company of cavalry surrounds 'em."
After carrying out Tom's orders we all turned in and slept till
daylight, when the veteran's usual morning call brought back the
recollection of the recent exciting incidents.
After breakfast Tom rode over to the store to see what he could learn
of the jayhawkers.
Before he started: Jack asked, "Tom, what are we to do with Tucker's
horse?"
"Why, Jack, ef no more rightful owner than Tucker turns up to claim him
the horse is fairly yours by right of capture."
"I've been thinkin' it over," said Jack, "an' come to this conclusion:
We know that these jayhawkers make a business of robbing people, taking
all the good horses an' mules they come across; it's more'n likely
that this Tucker has stole this fine horse from somebody hereabouts,
an' I think the square thing to do will be to leave word with the ol'
storekeeper that in case any man comes along claiming the horse, an'
can prove his property, we'll give him up to the rightful owner. If
the owner should show up in a day or two he can follow us up, prove
ownership, an' take his horse. Ef he shouldn't show up until after
we've got out to our winter's camp, or well on the road toward it,
we'll leave word with the storekeeper to say that we'll be comin' back
this way in the spring an' we'll fix the business up then."
"Good idea, Jack," said Tom. "I guess that'll be as good a plan as any
to settle about the ownership of the horse, an' we'll leave it that
way."
"As to the horse being mine," added Jack, "in case no owner turns up,
I don't look at it that way. This is a partnership concern, I take
it, an' everything belongs to all hands. But that horse is a dandy. I
was out brushin' him off a bit ago, an' I haven't laid a currycomb on
a finer animal this long time. He's young--only six years old--well
built, clean-limbed, got good action, fine carriage, sound as a dollar,
an' I'll warrant he can run a good lick, too."
As Tom started off, instead of following the road he took a course
across the prairie that would bring him to the creek some distance from
the regular ford, thus, instinctively, as it were, following out an
old frontier scouting rule by which we were taught that in travelling
a probably dangerous road one should avoid the regular crossing of a
timbered creek as a precaution against being ambushed.
About the middle of the forenoon Tom made his appearance and soon
joined us.
In response to our eager inquiries for news he replied:
"Good news. Our strategy won the game. The whole gang, lock, stock, an'
barrel, lit out from their ol' camp last night about midnight, an' went
in a hurry, too. Judging by the signs an' what a man told us who heard
'em gittin' away across the prairie, they must have been scared. Now,
let's hitch up an' strike the road again an' try to make up some of
the time we've lost here--for we've been knocked out of nearly a day's
drive by these jayhawkers. I'll tell you all about it as we go along."
We soon had our team strung out and were again rolling along the old
Santa Fé road, Jack and I on the wagon seat, with Tom riding the black
horse alongside and giving us the particulars of his visit to the store.
"When I got to the store," he said, "early as it was, I found a farmer
there who lives down near where the jayhawkers have been camped an'
who had come up to report that some time before midnight he had heard
considerable commotion in their camp, an' shortly afterward heard a
wagon an' some mounted men pass not far from his house, goin' southward
across the prairie. He supposed that the gang was breaking camp an'
moving away, but couldn't understand why they should light out so
sudden an' at such an hour. When daylight come he visited the abandoned
camp an' there saw plenty of signs that they'd gone in a hurry. They
left clothin', lariats, an' other camp equipage scattered about that
they had failed to gather up in the dark.
"Well, when I got to the store the farmer an' the storekeeper was all
worked up an' tickled at the going of their unwelcome neighbors; an'
their astonishment was greater still to see me ridin' Tucker's fine
black horse an' saddle, which they all seemed to recognize at first
sight.
"To explain the situation to 'em, an' how I come to be ridin' Tucker's
horse, I had to tell 'em all about the jayhawkers comin' to our camp to
try to bluff us out of our mules, an' how we stood 'em off; an' about
Jack capturin' the big duffer; an' how we made a 'spread eagle' of him
an' give him a good scaring up with that yarn of the company of cavalry
coming; an' how we give him a chance to get away; an' how he got.
"I told the storekeeper what Jack's plan was, in case an owner for the
black horse should turn up; but he don't think the horse b'longs to any
one in this part of the country; an' ef anybody comes 'round inquiring
for such a horse he's to write to me at Fort Larned.
"The ol' feller was dreadful uneasy for fear the jayhawkers would find
out that we'd gone on out to the plains an' that there was really no
company of cavalry behind us and then would come back. But I tol' him
not to worry about that, for I believed there would be a company of
cavalry here from Fort Leavenworth before long in answer to that letter
he had written to General Hunter.
"I put another idea into his head, tellin' him that he could help the
soldiers to capture or break up the gang by havin' a man foller their
trail an' find out just where they locate. He took up with the idea
right away, an' the farmer said he'd foller the trail. When he gets 'em
located he's to come back an' guide the soldiers to the jayhawkers'
camp."
As we passed through the strip of timber at the crossing of the little
creek where the jayhawkers had planned to get the drop on us we noticed
that it would have been an admirable place for such a manoeuvre, and
Jack and I commented on the possibilities of an encounter with the
enemy here.
"You're wastin' your wind," interrupted Tom impatiently. "I had it all
planned out to take a by-road that leads off from the house where we
camped, which crosses the creek--so the storekeeper had told me--about
a quarter of a mile below this crossin', comin' into the main road
again in the prairie beyond. In that way we'd have left the jayhawkers
'holdin' the sack,' like the feller that went a-snipe huntin'."