The Sheriff's Posse
Imagine the commotion that ensued in the mining city which lay
at the foot of that giant mountain which the industry of man is
slowly eating away. That shot which had rung out in the saloon near
which Jim Carpenter and Dan Holman, his bosom chum, happened to be
standing--listening to the harangue of that bearded and excitable
person who had announced the declaration of war to them--though it
was muffled by the windows of the saloon itself and by the half-door
which closed the entrance, yet attracted the ears of quite a number.
Nevertheless the figure which presently emerged and went off down the
street escaped attention. Then an avalanche poured into the street.
"Where's he gone? Which way did he turn? Where's that German?"
"German?" asked Jim. "What's happened? We heard a shot, and guessed
there must be a shindy in the saloon. Still, there have been others,
so we didn't take much notice. As to seeing anyone coming out, that we
did not, for we weren't quite sure where the sound came from, and were
looking the other way. Who's the man? What's happened?"
"What's happened!" exclaimed a heated individual, a tall, lithe,
broad-shouldered and clean-shaven American, tapping Jim in friendly
fashion on the shoulder. "Let me tell you, sir, the cruellest and most
bloodthirsty murder that the Kaiser has ever committed!"
Dan stood back a pace and stared at the man in amazement. "The Kaiser,"
he exclaimed, "here? Surely----"
Another face was thrust forward into the circle now standing about Jim
and Dan. "He didn't mean the Kaiser himself," this lusty miner cried.
"George, here, is talking of what the Kaiser's brought about through
one more of his rascally agents. Listen here: a man was standing up
against the bar counter five minutes ago; a chap that's not long been
in these parts, but I happen to know something about him, and that
something is that he's a German. Well now, what d'you think happened?
Charlie, the most jovial fellow that ever served a glass to any of us,
states the case squarely and aloud, just as he's been used to: says as
he's glad it's war, says as he thought it was high time we Americans
were in it, and just downs the Kaiser with a bang of his fist."
"And then this here scoundrel of a German chap shoots him point-blank!
Where's he got to?" shouted another.
It was less than five minutes later that the Sheriff, hastily summoned
by telephone, came cantering up the street, and after him his posse,
collected from all parts from men who had already been selected to act
as special police in case of trouble arising, well acquainted with
their duty, and hurrying from their work, from their houses, from
wherever they might have been, all mounted on horseback, and making for
the centre of the mining city.
Let us say that though the old mining cities and villages of America
now wear a totally different aspect, and lead a supremely different
life from that common in the '40's, yet "hold-ups" still occur in
places; ruffians even now are come across, and every now and again
there is a broil, and some tragedy or crime is perpetrated. Here then
was one, and already the Sheriff and his men were seeking for the
culprit.
"He came right round along the street down here," a man bellowed,
running up a few moments later; "a dark man, with his coat collar
turned up and hat pulled over his eyes?"
"That's the one," they shouted.
"And hops into one of the trucks making up the mountain; it'll be well
up the slope now. He's setting his tracks for the workings."
At once there was an exodus; the crowd broke up, the Sheriff and his
men galloping off to ascend the mountain by a winding track, whilst
Jim and Dan and twenty more dived for their own homes, then, armed
with the best weapons they possessed, turned out again, and, clambering
aboard a train of empty trucks going upwards, made for one of the
tunnels which had been cut into the heart of the mountain.
"We've telephoned round to the other side to tell 'em to close the
exit, and I've told off parties of men to watch every one of the
openings on this side," the Sheriff told them as they alighted opposite
one of the huge galleries which gave access to the mountain. "Next
thing is to have a confab. We've got to get that fellow out, but we'd
best remember it's dark in there, there are cuttings this way and that,
and galleries running everywhere, so lights are wanted, and, after
that, guides."
Jim stepped forward and Dan with him. "How'll we do?" they asked.
"You?"
"Yep!" declared Jim, with the curt assurance of a young American. "Dan
and I have worked here since we were boys, and know every tunnel and
every cutting. As to lights, Mr. Sheriff, I don't know. You see----"
"How's that?" demanded the Sheriff. "No lights! Waal, that gets me!"
"You see," explained Dan, coming to the assistance of Jim, for he had
seen his reasons instantly, "the man who enters the workings carrying a
lamp will draw fire, if that fellow means to do more shooting."
For a moment or so there was silence, the Sheriff pushing his hat back
from his head and rubbing his forehead, while the men about him looked
at one another and nodded.
"Mebbe all right! Say, now, I don't want to dictate to no one,"
declared the Sheriff, "but, draw fire or not, we've got to get a lamp
to find this fellow; we've got to take our risks so as to arrest him.
Waal, taking risks is in our line; we expected that when we were
elected. I'll chance it."
Jim and Dan instantly agreed to do likewise.
"There's a motor-car over here," said the former at once, beginning to
walk towards it. "We can remove the lamps and use those. I don't say,
Mr. Sheriff, that you're not right. This is a job which means risk,
and, as you say, it's your duty to get into danger. Our job is to help
you, like every honest citizen will want to do. Come on, Dan, and let
us see what we can make of the lamps, for the sooner we follow that
beggar the better."
It chanced that the motor-car standing not far off was equipped with
acetylene head-lights, being dissimilar in that respect to the majority
of modern automobiles in America, and promptly they removed these lamps
and brought them back to the party. Presently they had them alight,
and, taking one and sending the second along to the next party, who
were watching the nearest opening, they plunged boldly into the gallery
which led to the inner workings, one man carrying the lamp and the
rest grouped about him, the Sheriff and half a dozen of them bearing
revolvers, while not a few carried guns which they had hurriedly
snatched from their lodgings.
Pushing on with great caution, and flashing the lamp hither and
thither, so as to expose the openings to works which led off from this
main gallery, the party had presently proceeded some three hundred
yards, and had as yet discovered no trace of the fugitive. Then one of
them gave vent to a cry, and, bending down, picked up an object.
"The hat he was wearing, I could swear," he said, lifting it. "Let's
put it in front of the light. See, Mr. Sheriff, I was in the saloon
there with Bill Harkness, a-talkin' about this here declaration of
war that the President's made, with one eye on Harkness, as you might
say, and one on the chap leanin' up against the counter. This is his
hat--I'd put me boots on it."
He raised the hat till the full stream of light from the lamp fell
upon it, so that all could examine it. As he lowered it again, and the
beams swept on into the depths of the tunnel, there suddenly came a
deafening report; the lamp went out as if drowned in water, while the
man carrying it fell to the ground with a crash.
"Pick him up," said the Sheriff. "Jim Carpenter, you were right. Did
any of you folks catch a sight of the varmint?"
Not one answered. As a matter of fact, the man who had fired the shot
had been secreted round a corner, and, at the moment he stretched forth
one arm with his weapon, the party in search of him were examining the
hat which he had dropped, and which was sure evidence of the fact that
he had taken refuge in these workings. A second later he had dived back
round the corner, and now the whole place was in darkness.
"We had best get out," said the Sheriff in low tones. "I ain't the one
to be driven off by a murderer. But Jim's right, and every time we come
in bearing a lamp that fellow's open to get us. He's a shot, too, for
else he wouldn't 'a got his bullet in so straight. Let's get back and
'tend to our mate."
Feeling their way along the walls, they staggered back to the exit, and
were presently once more in the open, where, to the relief of all, they
discovered that the man they carried had been merely stunned. For he
had held the lamp at arm's length and just level with his head, and the
bullet which had struck it had flung it back violently against his head
and so stunned him.
"And what next?" the Sheriff asked as the party gathered in a group and
looked at one another enquiringly. "Young Jim Carpenter, you've been
these many years in and around the works, what 'ud you do? Mebbe you
can find your way round blindfold."
Jim thought the matter over for a while. It was true that he could
find his way anywhere in those works blindfold, or without a lamp,
and indeed would have been a dunce could he not have done so, seeing
that he habitually went to his work along the galleries without a
light, every inch being familiar to him. Yet to find one's road in the
workings within the mountain and to search for a murderer therein were
two entirely different propositions. The one required no nerve, hardly
any effort; the other called for something more, and promised at the
least excitement and adventure.
"Guess, Mr. Sheriff," he said at last, "it's the duty of every one of
us to lend a hand."
"I can't compel," came the answer. "Me and my posse were elected to
look after the rights of people in this here city and surroundings, to
arrest thieves and vagabonds, and to maintain order. If we are hard
pressed we are entitled to call upon those nearest, but they ain't
compelled to join; they are free citizens. Folks in this country are
free, young Jim Carpenter."
He eyed the young fellow critically, peering at him closely from the
top of his peaked hat to the soles of his sturdy mining boots, noticing
the breadth of his shoulders, the depth of his chest, his firm face
with the pair of glittering, frank eyes looking out from it, the strong
hands and arms, bared almost to the shoulder, and the general air of
strength and resolution about this young miner.
"Should say as he and Dan are just the last to refuse a request that
might plunge 'em into danger," he was thinking. "They're quiet,
hard-working folks, as we all know, and orphans this many a year,
having earned their own grub and a good deal more, and have been
independent of others. Waal?" he asked bluntly.
"I've been thinking, that's all," said Jim. "It don't do to go in for
a thing like this without some sort of consideration. Any way you look
at it it's not an easy job; for I take it this German chap is bottled
up in the mountain and has to be hunted out of any corner or hollow in
which he's taken shelter. You might board up the entrances and starve
him out, only the chances are there's food enough in the workings to
keep him alive for quite a while; for the miners often take in a store
so as to free them from the job of carrying food up every day. As to
water, there's pools of it; so, as you might say, a siege like this
could last for days on end, and the murderer fail to be captured. So
the best and quickest way is to go in and pull him out; and bearing a
lamp, as we have just now tried, ain't successful."
"Just as you warned us, I'll own," the Sheriff admitted. "Now then?"
"I'd take in a small party only," Jim said, "every one of 'em armed
and good shots, and one of 'em carrying an electric torch. I'd let 'em
wear rubber boots, and would warn 'em not even to whisper. They could
arrange signals before they went in: a tug at the coat to warn each
other that one of 'em had heard a suspicious sound. I'd let 'em creep
forward till near their man, and then the one with the lamp could flash
it on, while the others covered the fellow with their revolvers."
"Gee," shouted the Sheriff, "that's some talking!--some sense! Let's
think it over. But what about a guide? Who'd lead 'em? Who's the chap
who's a-goin' to take hold o' the torch? It means shootin', mind. That
there skunk what's got inside could shoot the eye out of a horse, I
reckon, so that those who go in after him will have to look mighty
lively--so who's a-goin'?"
"That's settled," Jim said abruptly. "That is, of course, if you think
I'll do."
"And I'll go along with him," Dan immediately chimed in. "Only we shall
want someone who can shoot well: Jim and me's used a gun (revolver) at
times, but we ain't no experts; but Larry, here, he's the man. If the
chap who shot Charlie over the bar, and put our light out a while ago,
could hit the eye out of a horse, Larry'ud shoot one out of a fly, I
guess."
"Huh!" grunted the Sheriff, and cast a sharp glance at the individual
in whose direction Dan had jerked a thumb. There he saw quite a
diminutive person, yet looking rather terrific in his mining costume.
For what with his high brown boots with their thick soles and the
lacings which ran almost from the toe right up to the knee, his rough
trousers cut too big for him, and a somewhat broad hat tilted right on
the back of his head, to say nothing of fierce moustaches, Larry looked
a terrible fellow.
Yet those who knew him knew him as a smiling, happy-go-lucky
individual, a miner whose chief characteristic was a penchant for
spending money. Dollars fled through the unfortunate Larry's pockets
as if the latter were full of holes. He was always in an impecunious
position; and yet Larry had pride, for not once did he beg of his
comrades. For the rest, it was on quiet half-holidays that he and a few
others would betake themselves to some retreat down at the foot of the
mountain, and there practise with their revolvers.
"You ain't got no cause to take on," Larry had told Jim many a time
when the latter had missed a can tossed in the air, for that was his
particular test applied to all who desired to become marksmen. "See
here, young fellow, I tosses the can into the air, and you has your
back turned to it. I says 'Go!' and round you swings, up yer arm goes,
and then the gun speaks. It ain't done by aimin', it comes natural. You
can't hit a can, same as that, tossed in the air, unless you've spent
dollars in ammunition same as I've done. There ain't no particular
difficulty in it, it's just persistence and practice--just stickin' to
it. So there, and that's all there is to it."
It might be easy enough for the diminutive Larry, but it caused him
no end of amusement to see the obstinate way in which Jim and others
tackled the proposition, and to watch their many failures; although, to
do this jovial fellow but justice, it caused him to shout with delight
when finally they were able to hit the flying object. Yet, with all
their practice, not one came up to the redoubtable Larry.
"Yep, Sheriff," he grinned, as the latter pointed a finger at him,
"I'll own up to it. It ain't that I'm of a quarrelsome sort of a
disposition."
At that they all grinned.
"What's that?" demanded Larry, firing up, not understanding their
humour. "Me quarrelsome! Why, I've been here about the mines this six
years past and there ain't one with whom I've had a ruction."
That again was substantial truth; yet we must amplify it a little by
the statement that the population working round this huge copper-mine
was constantly fluctuating, and only a small proportion of the men
remained there for many months together. Yet in such a community men
soon gather knowledge of one another, and, though there were brawls
now and again, though men came to the mine who were of a distinctly
cantankerous and quarrelsome disposition, it was significant that,
learning early of Larry's prowess with a gun, it was not with this
diminutive little miner that they picked their quarrels.
Larry grinned widely, for now he saw that his friends were merely
bantering.
"I kin git you," he laughed. "Waal, Mr. Sheriff, let's move on. I've a
gun here handy," and he tapped the holster in which his revolver was
resting.
"But there's the torch to be got first of all," Jim reminded them,
"and then there are rubber boots or shoes. They are of as much
importance almost as our friend Larry. What's the odds, Mr. Sheriff, if
we set our guards at the exits from the mountain, and send down below
to get all we want? I ain't the one to delay, but we are more likely to
succeed if we make our preparations carefully."
There came a commotion away on their left as he was speaking: a weapon
snapped sharply, there was a rush of men towards the entrance, which,
like the one in front of which Jim and his friends were standing,
was being watched and guarded, and then one of the Sheriff's posse
approached.
"The varmint tried to make out, Mr. Sheriff," he reported. "We was
there a-talkin' away and watchin' the entrance, when a man comes
slinkin' along out o' the darkness, peers out at us, and lifts his
revolver. It was Jacques what took a pot shot at him, and I see'd the
bullet splash on the rock by his head, and our chap turned and went off
like greased lightning."
The Sheriff at once went to the telephone hut near at hand and called
up the parties at the other exits and warned them to be on their guard.
"You'd best get some sort of cover," he told them, "so that if the
fellow tries to break out he won't have a clear shot at you. Me and my
mates here are going in to search for him, and just before we move off
I'll send another 'phone message to you. Keep a bright look-out."
It was perhaps half an hour later that the messenger, whom they had
dispatched to the bottom of the mountain by means of one of the mine
locomotives, came back on the foot-board of that same wagon bearing
sundry pairs of rubber-soled shoes with him and a couple of electric
torches, also he carried a basket of food and a couple of water-bottles.
"Seems to me, boss," he said, addressing the Sheriff, "that you folks
might be some while in the mountain; it ain't altogether a small place,
now, is it? And ef you get on the tracks of this here chap what's
murdered Charlie, you won't be askin' to come back just to get a bite
of food or a drink of water. You'll want to trace him and perhaps drive
him out to one of the watching-parties. Ef that's so, it occurred to me
that some meat and bread and a couple of cans of cold tea would meet
your ticket, and here they are. Now I'm a-goin' to put on one o' these
pairs of shoes, for I'm one o' the party."
It took quite an amount of argument to settle who were to go and who
were to stay behind to watch the entrance into which Jim and his
friends were to penetrate. Naturally enough the Sheriff must be one of
the little adventurous band, and Larry was an indispensable. Jim, too,
must go, for he was to guide them; and Dan would be there to assist
him if need be, or to replace him in case he became a casualty. But
the remainder clamoured to accompany them; and it took not a little
persuasion and tactful chatter on the part of the Sheriff to pick his
men and to decide who should be of the party.
"It stands to reason, boys," he said, "that we are all doing our duty
whether we go in or stay out here. You've seen for yourselves that this
here chap we're after won't stand at anything: if he comes into the
open he's as likely to shoot at you as he will at us who are goin' in
after him, only, of course, I admit it's slower work stayin' out here.
Guess you've put me up as Sheriff so as I should be able to talk when
times like these come round."
"You bet!" they admitted, nodding their heads.
"Then I'm goin' to give orders right off. Larry and Jim and Dan and me,
and Jacques there, and Tom Curtis will make the investigating-party;
t'others waits here and takes cover under boulders. Our friend Tim,
what's been round the mines these many years, will take charge of the
lot of you, and will post a man at the 'phone ready to call up the
other parties. This here young fellow, Harry Dance, will follow us in
five minutes after we've started, and when he's gone for five minutes,
this here Tim will make in after him, and ef we are longer still, and
moving up, Frank Stebbins will take the track into the mine so as to
keep in contact. It will be a sort of relay business. Ef we get held
up, the message can be passed back, and ef we want help some of you can
come in after us. Only mind, there's always got to be a guard standing
here in case the fellow doubles; for you've got to remember that in the
workings in there there are burrows in all directions, and a man can
leave the main gallery and turn and twist and come back on his tracks
and easily avoid a search-party."
Donning the rubber shoes which had been brought for them, and each of
them tucking a portion of bread and meat into his pockets, while Dan
and the Sheriff shouldered the cans of tea, the party saw to their
weapons. Jim made sure that the electric torch he carried was in
working order, and thrust the reserve one in his pocket. Then, at a nod
from the Sheriff, and a cheery "Good luck!" from the party who were to
remain behind, and who watched their departure ruefully, Jim led the
way into the mine, and presently he and his friends were swallowed up
by the darkness.