TOM WALTON WOUNDED.
I was appalled at the calamity which had befallen Tom Walton,
and deplored the want of caution with which we had conducted the
enterprise. Of course we understood that the bank robber was armed, and
the fact occurred to me as we approached the gully; but when I saw him
suspended by the arms to the bush on the brink of the precipice, I did
not consider him in condition to use a revolver. I am as much afraid of
a pistol as any other prudent person, and I do not, as a general rule,
think it advisable to stand before the muzzle of such a weapon when it
is loaded, and in the hands of a desperate man.
If I had been called upon to express an opinion, I should have said
that it was simply impossible for the robber to use his weapon. Tom and
I expected to overtake him before he could get over the brink of the
precipice, seize him by the heels, and drag him down from his perch.
When he came down, I intended to throw myself upon him, and choke
him till he was willing to hold still and have his arms tied behind
him with the cord by which he had slung the travelling-bag over his
shoulder. I could not see how this nice little plan was to fail, and we
began to ascend the precipice. I felt reasonably sure that we should
make a victim of the villain.
I was not only appalled, but astounded, when Tom came over upon me. It
was disaster and defeat at the same time, and at that moment I only
hoped the robber would not take the trouble to fire again. He did not,
being apparently satisfied with the mischief he had done. I was afraid
Tom had received a mortal wound, and I thought of nothing but him. I
was standing on the gradual ascent of the steep, where the earth and
rocks had caved down from above, so that I had a good foothold, and was
fortunately able to save my friend from going over backwards. I held on
to him, and retreated to the level ground below.
“Good Heaven, Tom!” I exclaimed. “The villain has hit you.”
“Never mind it, Wolf. Don’t make a row. It isn’t bad,” he replied, with
a cheerful smile, as he placed his right hand on his left arm above the
elbow.
“Where did it hit you?” I asked, with the most intense anxiety.
“Here,” he answered, indicating the place on his left arm.
“I was afraid it had gone through your body.”
“No; but it took all the starch out of my arm, so that I could not hold
on to the rock--that’s all.”
I heard a scrambling above, and looking up, I saw the robber drag
himself over the brink of the cliff. It required a tremendous muscular
effort for him to accomplish the act. Without asking my advice this
time, Tom raised his pistol and fired; but only the legs of the rascal
were visible, and these immediately disappeared, so that I concluded he
was not hit.
“I ought to have fired in the first of it,” said Tom, as he restored
the weapon to his pocket.
“I am sorry now that you did not; but I did not exactly like the ilea
of killing the man,” I replied. “But how is your arm?”
“That will do very well. It is bleeding a good deal, and don’t feel
first rate. But come; let’s follow that fellow. I want to put one of
these little pills into him.”
“No; let me bind up your arm first,” I insisted. “It may stop the
bleeding. Take off your coat, and let me see what it is.”
“But the robber will get away while we are fooling here.”
“No matter if he does. You may lose your arm if we neglect the wound.
Off with your coat.”
It was not so easy for him to take off his coat, but with my assistance
it was removed with some difficulty. I found that the bullet from the
pistol had ploughed a wound diagonally along the fleshy part on the
inner side of the arm. It must have passed very near his body, and I
regarded it as a narrow escape from a mortal injury. I tore off a piece
of his shirt, and scraped some lint from it, which I placed upon the
wound in order to stanch the bleeding, and then bound my handkerchief
around it.
“That’s it, Wolf. You were cut out for a doctor. It feels first rate
now,” said he; but his face was paler than usual, and I saw that he
was suffering much pain. “Come, now; let’s see where that fellow has
gone.”
“I’m afraid you are not in a condition to chase a robber, Tom.”
“Yes, I am. I’ll follow him to the other side of sundown,” he replied,
leading the way to the zigzag path. “I don’t want to kill him; but, if
one of these bullets will travel faster than I can, he shall have the
benefit of it. Come on, Wolf.”
Tom certainly had pluck enough--more than I should have had with such
an ugly wound in my arm. I followed him up the path, and we soon
reached the high ground above the lake.
“Now don’t be rash, Tom,” said I, placing myself ahead of him. “That
fellow has at least five more balls in his revolver, and if we get
shot, we can’t do any good.”
“My pistol will carry as far as his I reckon, and it is a poor rule
that won’t work both ways. If I see him again, I shall give him some,”
replied Tom.
“Don’t you feel weak, Tom?”
“No, not much; at any rate, I’m good for ten miles. Do you see anything
of the villain?”
“Not a thing. We will go over to the other side of the gully, and we
may be able to trace him.”
We hastened to the place indicated. On the brink of the precipice the
ground was considerably stirred up by the violence of the robber’s
struggle to attain the summit of the cliff; but we could find no other
trace of him. The region above the lake was a pasture, and the short
grass afforded no impress of his footsteps. The country was wild and
rugged, with plenty of bushes and trees to afford concealment to the
robber. Between us and Gulfport there was a wood.
“We are not much wiser now we are up here,” said Tom. “What shall we
do?”
“I think we had better move towards the Gulfport road. We can find some
of our people there, and notify them that the robber has landed here.”
“That fellow’s smart, and in my opinion he will be on the lookout for
our people,” added Tom, as we moved towards the road. “He’ll work up
towards Port Gunga, because he will think the men are in the other
direction. We shall do better if we divide; you go up to the road, and
I will follow up the shore.”
“I don’t believe in separating. What could either of us do alone, if
one of us should happen to see him?” I replied, not wishing to leave
Tom in his wounded condition, though his plan was certainly the better
one.
“One of us could follow him and keep the run of him just as well as
two. There isn’t any need of looking into his pistol barrels, you know.”
“I’ll change your plan a little, and then we will adopt it. You shall
walk towards the road, and tell our people the robber has landed, and I
will go up the lake.”
“It’s all the same to me; but, if you are going that way, you shall
take this pistol,” replied Tom, handing me the weapon. “Don’t be
afraid to use it, Wolf, if you get a chance. You are a little too
tender-hearted for this kind of business.”
“I will use it, if I get a chance to stop him in that way,” I answered,
as I took the pistol.
We separated, and I pursued my way in the direction of Port Gunga,
which was about five miles distant. Tom walked due east towards the
road, where I expected he would meet some of the _posse_ who had been
landed to intercept the robber. He soon disappeared among the bushes
and trees. But he was hardly out of sight before he called to me. I
halted, and presently I saw him and Mr. Bradshaw, a deputy sheriff, who
had taken charge of the _posse_ which had come up in the steamer.
“Have you seen anything of him?” asked the sheriff, as we met near the
gully.
“Not since he climbed up the cliff,” I replied.
“You ought to have fired at him the moment you saw him,” added the
officer. “You mustn’t mince matters with such fellows. It is better to
shoot him than to be shot by him.”
“We did the best we knew how,” interposed Tom.
“Of course you did. However, we are pretty sure of him, for I have sent
our folks up the Port Gunga road, and they are certain to head him off.
I wouldn’t give two cents for his chances,” continued Mr. Bradshaw,
confidently.
“Well, what shall we do?” demanded Tom, impatiently.
“As you are hurt, you had better take your boat and go home,” added the
officer.
“Not I,” protested the plucky skipper. “I’m going to stay to see the
fun, and help bag the game.”
“Just as you like, but you must look out for your arm.”
“I’m all right. Wolf fixed my arm as good as a doctor could.”
“Well, we will follow up towards Port Gunga, and see that the robber
does not take the back track when he finds our folks in front of him,”
said the sheriff, as we started in the direction indicated. “I waited
on the bluff here till I saw where the rascal was going to land, and
then I stationed my men where they could trip him up.”
“Why didn’t you bring them up to the cliff, and head him off when he
landed?” I inquired, disposed to be critical in my turn.
“Why didn’t I? Because our people were more than a mile from here,”
replied the sheriff. “You see we expected he would land half a mile
farther down the lake. I had to go and tell them where to look for him;
and though I have been in a hurry, I have but just returned.”
“If you had been on the cliff when the fellow landed, you could have
fixed him,” I added.
“But I didn’t know what he was going to do till he did it.”
“You did the best thing you knew how,” said Tom.
“Of course I did.”
“That’s just what we did; and I don’t think it pays to tell what might
have been done,” continued Tom, who was always disposed to take things
as he found them, and blame no one for what could not be helped.
“It will all come out right. We are sure of him,” said the sheriff.
“But I think we had better spread out a little. You take the shore
of the lake, Wolf; you go to the left, Tom; and I will take a course
between you. If either of you see him sing out.”
This was good policy, and it was promptly adopted. I walked over to the
cliff by the lake, and following the shore, I soon reached a high point
of land, which commanded a view for a considerable distance. I halted
to take a careful survey of the region, hoping I might discover the
fugitive; but I could see nothing. There was a tall tree on the top of
the hill, which I climbed in order to obtain a still better view. I
could see Tom and the sheriff, but no one else. I began to fear that
the robber understood the situation better than we supposed, and had
adopted some plan which had not been anticipated by any of us. So far,
I surveyed only the region which the fugitive was expected to traverse.
Before descending the tree, I turned my gaze in the direction we had
just come.
I saw the robber, and called with all my might to Tom and the sheriff.