ALL IN GOOD TIME.
Between nine and ten o'clock on the Saturday evening succeeding the
incidents I have described, a wagon similar to the one wrecked the
night before, drove out of Tottenville with two persons on the front
seat.
The driver was Jacob Kincade, who, having safely passed the recaptured
lion over to Colonel Bandman, secured a couple of days' leave of
absence and hurried back to Tottenville, where he engaged the team,
and, accompanied by Bud Heyland, drove out in the direction of the wood
where matters went so unsatisfactorily when Bud assumed charge.
"I was awful 'fraid you wouldn't come to time," said Bud, when they
were fairly beyond the village, "which is why I tried to run the
machine myself and got things mixed. Sutton insisted on waiting till
you arriv', but when he seen how sot I was he give in and 'greed to
meet me at the place."
"That was all well enough," observed Mr. Kincade; "but there's some
things you tell me which I don't like. You said some one was listening
behind the fence the other night when you and Sutton was talking about
this business."
"That's so; but Sutton showed me afterwards that the man, who was short
and stumpy, couldn't have heard anything that would let him know what
he was driving at. We have a way of talking that anybody else might
hear every word and yet he wouldn't understand it. That's an idee of
mine."
"But you said some one--and I've no doubt it's the same chap--was
whistling round the wood last night and scared you, so you made up your
mind to wait till to-night."
"That rather got me, but Sut says that no man that 'spected anything
wrong would go whistling round the woods in that style. That ain't the
way detectives do."
"Maybe not, but are you sure there ain't any of them detectives about?"
"Me and Sut have been on the watch, and there hasn't been a stranger
in the village that we don't know all about. That's the biggest joke I
ever heard of," laughed Bud, "that 'ere Jackson going out to Walsingham
and arresting the colonel and Gibby."
"Yes," laughed Kincade, "it took place just as I was coming away. I
wish they'd locked up the colonel for awhile, just for the fun of the
thing. But he and Gibby were discharged at once. I came on in the same
train with Jackson, though I didn't talk with him about it, for I saw
he felt pretty cheap.
"However," added Kincade, "that's got nothing to do with this business,
which I feel a little nervous over. It was a mighty big load for us to
get out in the wood last Monday night, and I felt as though my back
was broke when we put the last piece in the tree. S'pose somebody has
found it!"
"No danger of that," said Bud. "I was out there to-day and seen that it
was all right."
"Sure nobody was watching you?"
"I took good care of that. We'll find it there just as we left it, and
after we get it into the wagon we'll drive over to Tom Carmen's and
he'll dispose of it for us."
Tom Carmen lived at the "Four Corners," as the place was called, and
had the reputation of being engaged in more than one kind of unlawful
business. It was about ten miles off, and the thieves intended to drive
there and place their plunder in his hands, he agreeing to melt it up
and give them full value, less a small commission for his services.
The arrangement with Carmen had not been made until after the robbery,
which accounts for the hiding of the spoils for several days. It did
not take long, however, to come to an understanding with him, and the
plunder would have been taken away the preceding night by Bud Heyland
and Cyrus Sutton but for the mishaps already mentioned.
"You're sure Sutton will be there?" asked Kincade, as they approached
the wood.
"You can depend on him every time," was the confident response; "he
was to go out after dark to make sure that no one else is prowling
around. He's one of the best fellows I ever met," added Bud, who was
enthusiastic over his new acquaintance; "we've fixed up half a dozen
schemes that we're going into as soon as we get this off our hands."
"Am I in?"
"Of course," said Bud; "the gang is to be us three, and each goes in
on the ground floor. We're going to make a bigger pile than Colonel
Bandman himself, even with all his menagerie and circus."
"I liked Sutton--what little I seen of him," said Kincade.
"Oh, he's true blue--well, here we are."
Both ceased talking as they entered the shadow of the wood, for, bad
as they were, they could not help feeling somewhat nervous over the
prospect.
The weather had been clear and pleasant all the week, and the stars
were shining in an unclouded sky, in which there was no moon. A few
minutes after they met a farmer's wagon, which was avoided with some
difficulty, as it was hard to see each other, but the two passed in
safety, and reached the spot they had in mind.
Here Bud Heyland took the reins, because he knew the place so well, and
drew the horse aside until he and the vehicle would clear any team that
might come along.
To prevent any such accident as that of the preceding night the animal
was secured, and the man and big boy stepped carefully a little further
into the wood, Bud uttering the same signal as before.
It was instantly answered from a point near at hand, and the next
minute Cyrus Sutton came forward, faintly visible as he stepped close
to them and spoke:
"I've been waiting more than two hours, and thought I heard you coming
a half dozen times."
He shook hands with Kincade and Bud, the latter asking:
"Is everything all right?"
"Yes, I've had my eyes open, you may depend."
"Will there be any risk in leaving the horse here?" asked Kincade.
"None at all--no one will disturb him."
"Then we had better go on, for there's a pretty good load to carry."
"I guess I can find the way best," said Bud, taking the lead. "I've
been over the route so often I can follow it with my eyes shut."
Sutton was also familiar with it, and though it cost some trouble
and not a little care, they advanced without much difficulty. Bud
regretted that he had not brought his bull's eye lantern with him,
and beyond question it would have been of service, but Sutton said it
might attract attention, and it was better to get along without it if
possible.
The distance was considerable, and all of half an hour was taken in
making their way through the wood, the darkness being such in many
places that they had to hold their hands in front of them to escape
collision with limbs and trunks of trees.
"Here we are!"
It was Bud Heyland who spoke, and in the dim light his companions saw
that he was right. There was a small, natural clearing, which enabled
them to observe the blasted oak without difficulty.
The little party stood close by the hiding-place of the plunder that
had been taken from the old brick mansion several nights before.
"You can reach down to it, can't you?" asked Sutton, addressing Bud
Heyland.
"Yes; it's only a little ways down."
"Hand it out, then," added Kincade; "I shan't feel right till we have
all this loot safely stowed away with Tom Carmen at the 'Four Corners.'"
"All right," responded Bud, who immediately thrust his head and
shoulders into the cavity.
He remained in this bent position less than a minute, when he jerked
out his head as though some serpent had struck at him with his fangs,
and exclaimed:
"It's all gone!"
"What?" gasped Jake Kincade.
"Somebody has taken everything away----"
In the dim light, Bud Heyland at that juncture observed something which
amazed him still more. Instead of two men there were three, and two of
them were struggling fiercely together.
These were Cyrus Sutton and Jacob Kincade, but the struggle was short.
In a twinkling the showman was thrown on his back, and the nippers
placed on his wrists.
"It's no use," said Sutton, as he had called himself, in a low voice;
"the game is up, Jacob."
Before Bud Heyland could understand that he and Kincade were entrapped,
the third man sprang forward and manipulated the handcuffs so
dexterously that Bud quickly realized he was a helpless captive.
This third man was Archie Jackson, the constable, who could not avoid
declaring in a louder voice than was necessary.
"We've got you both, and you may as well take it like men. This
gentleman whom you two took for Cyrus Sutton, a cattle drover, is my
old friend James Carter, the detective, from New York."
And such was the truth indeed.