THE LONE SHACK
“Well,” said Bob, “I’m glad for one thing; the job will soon be over,
and then we can get a little rest.”
Frank chuckled at this, upon which his chum hastily continued:
“Now, don’t think I’m sorry I came, because I’m not. Nothing could
have hired me to stay below there, while you and Mr. Riley were doing
things up here. All the same, I admit that I’m some tired, and when
we’re through with the job I’ll throw up my hat and yell.”
“So will I, Bob,” replied Frank, seriously; “on condition that we
meet success in our hunt. But here’s Mr. Riley, ready to do some
more climbing; so we’d better put off talking till after we’ve done
something worth while.”
After that broad hint Bob remained as “dumb as a clam,” as he himself
would have expressed it.
They still followed the course of the little gurgling stream. Frank’s
guess in the beginning had turned out to be all right. The shanty,
or shack, whichever it might prove to be, had undoubtedly been built
close to the running water. Whoever put it up originally knew the
great value of a never-failing spring in the front yard; for this was
a land of many deserts.
Foot by foot the three crawled upward. It was not hard going, for the
incline at this point proved to be fairly easy; only the brush and
undergrowth in places caused them considerable difficulty.
“It’s gone!” whispered Bob, presently, in the ear of his chum.
“Chances are it only vanished because some rock came between us and
the gleam, and we’ll get another peep at the light in a minute,”
Frank answered.
“Right again, Frank, for there, I just had a glimpse of it once more.
And, seems to me, the light is shining brighter than ever.”
“We’re closer, for one thing,” Frank replied.
Mr. Riley did not attempt to act as leader now. Perhaps he had been
observing Frank’s actions, and come to the conclusion that the lad
knew more about these things than he did. As a mine superintendent
Mr. Riley was in his element; but he had never professed to be an
expert woodsman, or a prairie rider. Hence, he seemed more than
satisfied to let Frank take the lead just now.
They had by this time drawn so close that the light could be plainly
seen; and even Bob could tell that it came from some small opening
in the wall of a shack, that served the purpose of ventilation, as a
window, though it probably had no glass.
Frank was now using redoubled caution. Bob wondered how his chum ever
managed to slip along as he did, very much after the manner of a cat
creeping up on a wary bird. He seemed to make no sound at all; and
Bob was painfully conscious that his own movements must seem clumsy
in comparison.
But later on, when he had a chance to ask his chum about it, Frank
was loud in his praise; and declared that, considering the little
experience which his chum from Kentucky had had, he did remarkably
well.
Of course Bob was growing more and more excited the closer they
approached to the shack. He wondered what they would see there. Would
the occupants prove to be the same two men whom they had chased all
the way from the vicinity of the Cherry Blossom mine?
On the other hand, they might turn out to be a party of innocent
prospectors, who knew nothing about the robbery of the strong room.
Bob hardly knew which way his hopes turned. Of course he wanted to
get back the lost treasure of gold which had been so boldly seized;
but he hoped there would be no desperate fighting. As yet he had
never seen a man shot down deliberately; and he feared that Mr.
Riley was in a bad temper; for he could hear him grinding his strong
white teeth every time his head chanced to come close to that of the
ex-superintendent.
Bob noticed one thing. They were no longer heading directly for the
light, but had veered off a little. Apparently, then, Frank meant
to approach it from an angle; or else he had some other nice little
scheme in view.
Suddenly Bob felt the hand of his chum grip his arm. He understood
from this that he was expected to remain perfectly motionless. The
light was temporarily blotted out to some extent; but there was no
mystery about it.
Some one had thrust a head out of the window, as though to take an
observation. Bob found himself wondering whether the fellow was
interested in the state of the weather; or imagined that he had heard
some suspicious sound near by, which deserved attention.
For perhaps a full minute they all remained there like statues. Then
the light shone again. The man had drawn in his head!
Frank moved silently away again, still veering to one side. He gently
drew Bob after him, as though giving him to understand that it was
his wish they should all keep together.
In this manner, then, they reached the wall of the shack, which Bob
speedily discovered was constructed of logs.
Even before they had arrived Bob made a discovery. He knew why Frank
had concluded that the risk of peeping in at the window was too
great. There was a far better opportunity to accomplish the same
purpose without taking any chances.
When it was originally built, perhaps, the cabin had been made
wind-proof in the customary way by filling the chinks between the
logs with mud; which, drying in the course of time, would resemble
mortar. In numerous places this had fallen away, leaving little gaps,
through which the light came, varied according to the size of the
opening.
Bob saw that these presented excellent peepholes. By putting an eye
to such a crack pretty nearly all the interior of the cabin might be
explored, granted that the light remained within.
And again did Bob find occasion to admire the smartness of his chum,
while mentally deploring his own lack of the same quality.
Each of the three creepers selected a crack for his field of
operations, and quickly put his eye to it.
What Bob saw, his two companions also gazed upon. It did not amount
to much, for the lone cabin in the foothills was utterly devoid of
anything in the shape of comforts, showing that it had long been
deserted.
Two men were in sight. They sat upon a couple of old chairs that had
once been built by the pioneer occupying the cabin, and left behind
when he departed for regions unknown. There was a slab of wood that
served as a table, such as it was; and upon this stood a lantern.
A fire crackled upon the hearth, and some sort of meal seemed to be
cooking in a kettle; for the steam was coming out under the lid, and
there was also an odor of beans.
Bob did not like the looks of the two men. Perhaps they might be
prospectors; but their faces were certainly vicious ones. And judging
from their appearance, they had lately been through more or less hard
luck. They looked tired and ugly.
Bob immediately came to the conclusion that these must be the men he
and his comrades had chased all the way from Cherry Blossom mine.
They were talking at intervals, but while the murmur of their voices
came to his ear, he could not make out a single word they said. The
stream happened to drop several feet in a little waterfall close by;
and this created a volume of sound calculated to deaden any ordinary
noise.
Bob pulled Frank’s head down close to his mouth, so he could
whisper. It was very important, in his eyes at least, that he should
start off right. If these two men were only strangers, in whom they
had no interest, what folly for him to keep on believing that they
were the gold thieves.
“Are they the ones we chased?” was what he whispered into Frank’s ear.
“Yes, sure!” came the reply; “and I know one only too well. It’s
Reddy Cramer. Mr. Riley knows him, too.”
Frank had taken pattern from Bob in drawing the head of the other
down, so he might say these few words directly into his ear.
Bob made no reply. None seemed necessary under the circumstances.
Yes, he remembered hearing all sorts of stories about that same Reddy
Cramer. Frank had told him how the man had given so much trouble at
the mine; and some six months back had been run out of camp, with a
warning that he would be harshly handled should he ever dare come
back.
Reddy had evidently waited his time about returning. And he had
formed a plan whereby he could have the laugh on the superintendent.
Perhaps he knew about the threatening strike. Possibly he may even
have had friends fomenting trouble at the Cherry Blossom, so as to
make his raid the more easily carried out. If one-half that had been
told about Reddy were true, he would have been equal to this.
But, somehow, Bob thought the squatty man with the red hair did not
look as happy as he might for one who had just carried a brilliant
stroke of business to completion. In fact, he seemed to have a dark
scowl on his face. And as Bob noted his actions he saw him bring
his clenched fist down on the slab of wood serving as a table, with
considerable vim, as he said something to his mate.
This latter was a tall, lean fellow. He had a dark skin, and Bob
fancied that possibly he was a Mexican, though he dressed as an
American. Whether a gambler, or just an ordinary business man gone
wrong, if his face were an index to his character, he must be a good
match for Reddy.
Bob now began to wonder what the next move would be. If these were
the robbers, of course they must be captured. Could this be done
without a fight? They looked like desperate men, and must be heavily
armed. Having once gained possession of the gold such fellows would
certainly not give up their prize tamely.
This brought another thrill in its train. Bob had never been closely
connected with any real out and out “scrap,” as the boys of Circle
Ranch would call it. He thought longingly of those same boys right
now, and wished a few of them might be along to throw the weight of
their influence in the scale.
True, with Mr. Riley to assist, they were three against two; but then
there could hardly be any comparison between a pair of half grown
boys, and these desperate men.
But, as has been said before, Bob was not lacking in what the boys
of the ranch called “sand.” He shut his teeth firmly together, and
made up his mind that no matter what was required of him, he would do
his level best to fill the bill. Frank must have no occasion to feel
ashamed of his Kentucky chum.
Besides, if this bold robbery were let go unpunished, it would
undoubtedly serve as a bait to tempt others to try the same game.
Consequently the rich gold mine must soon become an unprofitable
business. And his father had a heavy interest in the successful
working of the Cherry Blossom.
He began to speculate as to how they ought to manage so as to take
the pair of scoundrels by surprise. Two of them might jump in
through the open door, which was on the side of the cabin opposite
the window, and thus uphill; while the other could lean through the
window, and call upon the men to throw up their hands.
Or perhaps Frank might think it worth while to hang around a bit. The
men looked dead tired, and would have to lie down soon. While they
slept they might be taken by surprise, and captured the more easily.
So Bob was weaving fancies as he knelt there, and glued his eye to
his crack between two logs. Frank was alongside, and, just beyond,
Mr. Riley occupied himself in much the same fashion.
It was while the Kentucky boy was trying to figure upon the best plan
of action, just to see how near he could come to what must be passing
in Frank’s mind, that he became aware of a certain fact that seemed
to alter conditions completely.
The window was over on the left, but plainly seen from his peep-hole.
He chanced to glance that way, possibly his eye being attracted by
some slight movement, Bob never knew. And to his utter astonishment
he discovered a human face thrust cautiously up above the sill, while
a pair of keen eyes ranged around the interior of the lone shack on
the hillside!