AN ASTONISHING DISCOVERY
“Hurrah!”
Bob could not keep from giving voice to his delight in this way. He
saw Frank tugging at some object, and then throw it on his shoulder.
“Keep right along up, Bob; and don’t let him pull the wool over your
eyes. We may want to take him to Phoenix yet, and hand him over to
the marshal,” was what Frank was saying.
Bob could hear the man give a dismal grunt. He had not suspected the
presence of others when he started to work this trick on his former
comrades, with the idea of making off with the gold they had secured.
In this way, then, they retraced their way upward. Bob would never
have dreamed that they had covered such a distance in the short space
of time they had been pursuing the escaping thief. But then, it had
been all down-hill, and the desire to get away had caused the man to
cover ground at a lively rate.
Frank had found the little stream again. He was making use of it to
keep in a direct line for the lone shack, located somewhere beyond.
Once the man made an effort to break away, as though his fears
overcame his discretion. But Bob was “on the job,” as he said
himself. He did not lose his grip of the fellow, despite the
abruptness of the wrench. And, remembering his instructions from
Frank, he threw out his foot, and tripped the man, who fell heavily.
Frank came springing back in an instant.
“What’s going on here, Bob?” he demanded.
“He tried it, just as you said he might!” replied the other,
breathlessly.
“And you tripped him, was that it?”
“Listen to him grunt, will you?” said Bob, feeling a little
compassion for the man, who had come down quite hard.
Frank still had matches left, and striking one of these he bent over
to find out how seriously the prisoner was hurt.
“You’re lucky only to have a few bruises, and a nose bleed,” he
declared, presently, after he had investigated. “Perhaps you’ll
understand now that even if we are boys, my chum and I mean to hold
on to you. Now, get up, and don’t you try that sort of game again, if
you know what’s good for you.”
He helped the fellow get on his feet. There was an air of dejection
about the man now, as though he had really come to the conclusion
that the net had closed in around him, and he would have to “throw up
his hands.”
“I’m done!” he muttered. “I was foolish to try it on. An’ ketched by
a pair o’ kids, too!”
That last exclamation seemed to size up the whole bitterness of
the situation. Had it been grown men who had effected his capture,
evidently the fellow would not have felt so keenly about his
misfortune; but he evidently wondered how he could ever hold up his
head among his fellows again, after allowing a couple of boys to down
him.
Several minutes later Frank called out:
“I see the light again, Bob. Keep going, and we’ll be there soon!”
“I’m glad of it,” declared the Kentucky boy, with a sigh; for he was
pretty nearly exhausted with fatigue and excitement.
Pretty soon even Bob caught sight of the gleam of light that came
from the window of the lone shack, where Reddy and his partner in the
robbery of the mine had their headquarters.
Then Bob’s mind flew back to the last glimpse he had had of that
interior, at the time the fellow dashed out of the door, with the bag
on his back, and they took up the chase.
He remembered distinctly now that Blaisdell had seemed to be lying
senseless on the floor over in a corner, where he had been knocked
during the fight. The other robber, he who had engineered the whole
affair from start to finish, had been almost equally helpless under
the knee of the second intruder, the companion of the man they chased
down the hillside.
And Bob also recollected that, as Frank led the way in hot pursuit,
he had called out to Mr. Riley to take charge at the shack. That
would possibly mean he was to enter the little cabin, and attack the
fellow who was pressing Reddy down.
How would they find matters on their arrival? Had the
ex-superintendent of the Cherry Blossom mine been able to obtain the
mastery of the situation? Bob had in times past heard certain stories
about Mr. Riley that stamped him as a brave man. The fact that he had
barricaded himself in the engine-house, and was defying the striking
miners, went to prove this fact.
Yet as they drew near the shack Bob confessed to himself that some
of his former nervousness had returned. He wondered whether he and
Frank would become embroiled in another affair with some of these
lawless men. Bob hoped not. Though ready to do his duty, and willing
to stand back of his chum in his effort to recover the treasure that
had been taken from the mine, Bob did not find any delight in scenes
of turmoil and fighting.
Frank, carrying the bag on his shoulder, approached the shack with
confidence. Evidently he trusted Mr. Riley fully, and did not allow
the slightest suspicion that the other could have made a failure of
his part in the game to enter his mind.
The first thing that Bob noticed was the ominous stillness that
seemed to hang over the place. He did not know whether this might be
favorable or not.
“Frank, do you think they all got away; and what could have happened
to Mr. Riley?” he could not help asking.
“Don’t you bother about Mr. Riley,” laughed his chum; “when the count
is made up, you’ll sure find him on deck, and carrying things with a
high hand. Bring your man right along in, Bob. Here we are!”
They had turned the corner of the shack, and the open door stood
before them. While passing the window Bob had been sorely tempted to
turn his eyes aside, in order to take a look; but a stern sense of
his duty made him pause. For he had a faint suspicion that should
he slacken in watchfulness over his prisoner, the man was desperate
enough to make another attempt at flight, even though his arms were
bound.
“Oh! Mr. Riley did it, as sure as anything!” was the exclamation that
broke from Bob’s lips, involuntarily, as he stepped into the shack.
He saw the former mine superintendent standing over two men, who were
on the floor. Looking a little farther Bob discovered that Blaisdell
was sitting in the corner, nursing his head, as though it pained.
None of the three rascals seemed to be in possession of a weapon of
any kind, which would probably account for the little arsenal that
lay on the floor close to Mr. Riley. He had seen to it that they were
completely disarmed.
Noting all these things Bob gave a big sigh of relief. It began to
look as though the end might be near. They had had a hard time of it.
They had secured two of the three original thieves; and it appeared
as if at least two-thirds of the spoils had been recovered!
No wonder, then, Bob was ready to throw up his hat, and yell.
Something seemed to hold him back, however. Perhaps it was because
his chum did not manifest any particular signs of being overjoyed.
Mr. Riley looked up as they came in, and his thin face was wreathed
in a grim smile at seeing how Frank carried the missing bag; while
Bob ushered the runaway thief into the shack.
“Got ’em both, eh, boys?” he greeted them with. “Now that’s what I
call going some. And I reckon as how the Colonel will be proud of
your carryin’s-on. Looks some snug in here, doesn’t it, Frank?”
There was something so comical in this last remark that Frank had to
laugh. No doubt it did look “snug” from the standpoint of Mr. Riley;
but the four men who had been “rounded up” so completely certainly
gave no evidence of appreciating the situation. Scowls and black
looks marked the faces of all of them.
Frank had dropped his sack alongside the other. Turning quickly he
noticed the look Reddy cast, first at the pair of bags, and then at
those who were now in complete possession.
“Sit down there with your friends!” Bob told the man who had run off
with a part of the treasure.
Thus the quartette were ranged along the floor. Mr. Riley asked
Frank to make use of some stout cord which he chanced to have in his
pocket; and as none of the prisoners dared resist, the result was
that inside of a few minutes all of them were rendered as helpless as
the man Bob had brought back to the cabin.
“I want to shake hands with each of you boys,” he said, gravely, as
he approached Frank; “and say that you’re sure a credit to Circle
Ranch. If so be they run that way there, I’ll willingly accept the
offer the Colonel makes me, an’ change bunks. And I reckon this boy
from Kentucky is no more in the tenderfoot class after this!”
Reddy was still observing them with a queer expression on his face.
It seemed as though the fellow might be trying hard to repress a
grin. And considering how desperate his situation seemed, the fact
that he could see any humor in things was indeed singular.
Perhaps, though, he was thinking how their victory must be incomplete
because of the fact that one of the bags of treasure was still
missing. That was what passed through Bob’s mind, at any rate, as he
let his eye rest on the two sacks.
“Open one of these, while I take the other, Bob,” Frank said, as he
dropped down on the floor beside the spoils.
Reddy’s grin grew still broader. He even tried to nudge Blaisdell
with his elbow, although the effort proved a failure, owing to the
fact that his arms were too securely bound to admit of any play.
Bob was only too willing to comply with the directions of his chum.
He imagined that Frank wanted to learn whether the whole amount of
stolen gold could have been crowded into two bags, instead of three;
which was a possible way of dividing it, after their number had been
reduced.
The first thing Bob thought, after he had dropped to the floor, and
laid hands on the nearest bag, was the deception that existed about
these things. For sixty pounds, perhaps nearer ninety, that little
bag certainly felt light indeed. But then, possibly that might be
only imagination.
He found that a stout cord had been passed several times around the
mouth of the sack, and as a knot promised to baffle his efforts to
undo it, the string was cut.
Bob opened the bag, fully expecting to discover the yellow glitter
of gold. He stared, and then bent his head lower, as though hardly
able to believe his eyes. Frank’s low laugh surprised him, and made
him look up, to find his chum regarding him with an expression on his
face that was a mixture of chagrin and humor.
“What did you draw, Bob?” he asked. “I seem to have a lot of packages
that look as if they might hold flour, sugar, coffee, and such
things; besides some tin cups, and a platter or two; a healthy lot of
supplies for a prospector to start with.”
“Whew! same here,” gasped Bob, who had really never been more
surprised in his life at making such a disappointing discovery.
“Whatever can it mean, Frank; and what do you suppose they’ve done
with the treasure they stole from the Cherry Blossom mine?”