“Well, this bangs me completely,” thought I, as I shouldered my bundle
and stumbled along behind my leader through the darkness. “But I would
like to know if any white man has ever been captured before by hostile
Indians and treated in this way. Coyote Bill seems to have the power in
his own hands, doesn’t he? I tell you, he _is_ a power in this land,
and if he will let me get away from him this time, he’ll never see me
again. I’ll go for the States the very first chance I get.”
Bill seemed to know just how fast I could go to keep up with him, and
in a few minutes I saw a light shining through between the trees, and
presently I was ushered into his camp. There were three or four men
lying around the fire, and they started up and looked at us.
“We have caught the wrong boy,” said Bill, waving his hand to show that
I could put my saddle and bridle down where I pleased; “but he has got
to show us the place where that money is hidden before he gets away. He
hasn’t had anything to eat, and is hungry.”
I sat down and looked at the men, and, I tell you, some of them were
pretty rough characters. I was glad indeed that I had fallen into the
power of Bill’s best looking man, for if I had been captured by any
one of the men sitting there at the fire, I should have fared badly.
They expressed a sentiment of strong disgust when Bill spoke of having
captured the wrong boy, but no attention was paid to it. He proceeded
to fill a long pipe very carefully, after which he went off into the
darkness, while another man set before me some bacon and corn bread. It
was not enough to satisfy my appetite, but I was glad to get what there
was, and in a short time it had all disappeared. Then I filled my pipe
and settled back for a smoke.
“Where do you suppose Bill is gone?” I asked, addressing my enquiries
to whoever had a mind to answer it.
Henderson was there, and in forming this question I looked particularly
hard at him, not because I wished him to reply to it, but because I
wished to see how he took matters. He was as mad as he was in camp when
Mr. Chisholm found that he had got hold of the pocket-book containing
the receipts, and not hold of the one that contained the will.
“He has gone off to get permission of the chief to burn you at
sunrise,” said he spitefully.
“Sho!” said I, for I knew that Henderson had made this all up out of
his own head. “Then he won’t get the money.”
“That’s the only thing that makes me think he won’t do it,” said
Henderson. “But you will be gone up the next time you come here. How
did you know that we were after the money, anyway?”
I repeated what I had said to Bill, and that was nothing but the truth.
“There were three white men in the party, and they said, from the way
you went about it, they were satisfied that there were some renegades
bossing the job,” answered I; and then I was almost sorry I said it. I
did not know how they would take the name “renegades,” as applied to
themselves; but Henderson was the only one who understood it.
“And what made us renegades?” he asked, and I believed that the
presence of the men was all that kept him from doing something
desperate. “We killed almost all the guards at the first fire--I got
two of them, I know, and I wish we had got them all. Renegades! That
is a vile and worthless fellow,” he added, turning to the men who were
sitting around. “That’s the kind of men you be.”
Some of the men laughed, while others acted as though they didn’t care
what men’s opinions were of them so long as they were permitted to
enjoy themselves. I saw that Henderson was trying to work the men up
to do something to me before Coyote Bill could get back, and I didn’t
think any more of him for it.
“Thar is one thing about that attack that I shall always be sorry for,”
said one of the fierce-looking men. “You know I, for one, had occasion
to look out for the muels that had the specie onto them. Tony here got
the man, an’ I shot the muel through the neck. I could swear to that.
Well, that thar muel turned an’ run like he never run before, an’ got
away with the Injuns completely. He took right down by your ranch too.
Didn’t see nothing of him, I reckon, did you?”
I shook my head.
“Well, thar’s a kind of a lucky feller down your way, I don’t know what
his name is, who has a mighty fine chance of findin’ pocket-books when
everybody else is done lookin’ for them, an’ I didn’t know but what he
might try his hand at findin’ that muel with five thousand dollars in
specie strapped onto him. That would be a pretty good haul for him,
wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it would,” I replied. “But he would have to give it up to the
paymaster.”
“Oh, he would, would he?” exclaimed the fierce-looking man. “If he
found it, it would be his’n, wouldn’t it?”
“You needn’t look for those boys to do anything like that,” said
Henderson, with a sneer. “They would give it up to the paymaster and
get five hundred dollars for it. It is a big thing to be honest!”
“Well, I think we’ve made as much as you have by being honest,” said I.
“You don’t seem to be loaded down with money.”
“But I would have had half a million if it hadn’t been for you and
others like you,” muttered Henderson between his clenched teeth.
“You had all the chance in the world,” I replied. “No one came near you
when you were searching that house. You see luck wasn’t on your side.”
“What did you come here for anyhow?” asked one of the men. “Folks say
that you came here to buy cattle, but I’ll be switched if I don’t
believe you came here to help Davenport. You aint got no money to buy
cattle.”
This started us off on a new topic of conversation, but Henderson
seemed to find fault with everything I said. I couldn’t reply to a
single question but it would start some spiteful remark on his part. I
really did not see how the men stood it. Finally Coyote Bill came back,
and I noticed that his pipe was empty. He had smoked it out with the
chief in gaining his point, and I wanted to hear him say that he had
obtained permission to torture me at sunrise; but he said nothing of
the kind, so that was one lie of Henderson’s nailed.
“Carlos, you had better go to sleep,” were the first words he spoke.
“We have got a long ride before us in the morning, and you won’t feel a
bit like getting up.”
“You want to watch him close for fear that he will escape,” chimed
in Henderson, who could not possibly let a chance go without saying
something.
“He won’t escape. He won’t try to; will you, Carlos?” continued Bill,
turning to me.
“Not much,” I said. “Where shall I lie down so that I will not be in
the way?”
Bill selected a place, and picking up my saddle and bridle--I do not
know what made me hang on to them, for I did not suppose I would
be allowed to ride my own horse in the morning--and with a cheery
“Good-night, fellows; pleasant dreams,” I laid down on it. The majority
of the men never paid any attention to my salutation. Bill was the only
one who noticed it, and he said: “Thank you; the same to you,” and that
made me think more than ever that he had been well brought up.
“That’s a brave fellow,” I heard him say as I arranged my saddle for
a pillow and laid down with my back to the fire. “It would be a great
pity if anything should happen to him.”
“And you are going to give him a chance to escape in the morning,”
growled Henderson. “I wish to goodness----”
“Go to bed,” said Coyote Bill, in his ordinary tone of voice.
“I wish to goodness that you, or any fellow like you,” began Henderson,
“had sense enough to see----”
“Go to bed!” said Bill, and in an instant his revolver was out and
was looking Henderson squarely in the eyes. This was the third time
that Henderson had been placed in a similar situation, but on this
occasion he didn’t say anything back. He knew that Bill was in just the
right mood to shoot. He gathered up his saddle and blanket,--I didn’t
have any blanket to cover myself with, and the nights were getting
cold,--and that was the last I saw of him that night.
“I made it,” said Bill, as soon as Henderson was out of hearing. “I
smoked a pipe with the chief, and he came over to my way of thinking.
Jack, you will ride down to the house with us in the morning.”
“But look here, Bill,” said the man who had done most of the talking
with me. “Don’t you think those boys would be some kin to the biggest
kind of dunces if they went off to escape from the hostiles, an’ left
their plunder buried where you could find it? That’s what’s been
running in my head ever since you went out to see the chief.”
“No, I don’t think so,” replied Bill. “They went off in a hurry, did
they not, and forgot to take some of their things with them. We have
made thirty thousand dollars this trip, and that is something worth
having.”
“Yes, an’ that dog-gone muel got away from us. I expect that lucky
feller at the ranch will have him.”
“Well, we can’t help that. And if I don’t find the money this time,
I have got something else in store for Bob. I’ll pounce on him every
chance, and steal his cattle by piece-meal, until he is driven from the
country. And I wish to goodness that he had never come into it.”
“Here, too! I don’t believe there was any half a million dollars
wrapped up in his hide.”
“Oh, yes! there was. But we can’t touch it now. Those men have been to
Austin and got the will probated----”
“What do you mean by that?”
“They have been to Austin and got it proved, and the property is all in
Bob’s name. What we would have done if we had captured Bob in the place
of this Carlos, I don’t know. Henderson thinks he could have got Bob to
sign the money over to him, but what good would it have done? They’d
say right away that we had gained the signature by fraud, and then
we would have a war on our hands, I bet you. As it is, we can keep on
stealing cattle; we will have a few Rangers to whip, and that’s all it
will amount to. I am going to bed.”
I do not know that I was in any condition to produce sleep, surrounded
as I was by men who had talked with satisfaction of seeing me tortured
at sunrise; but it is a fact that, as soon as Coyote Bill sought his
blankets, I sank into an untroubled slumber, from which I was awakened
by Bill’s shaking me and ordering me to catch up. I started up, only to
find that somebody had thrown a blanket over me while I was asleep, and
to see that the camp of Indians was gone, and that there was no one in
sight except Coyote Bill, his man Gentleman Jack,--I did not know what
else to call him,--and Henderson.
“They have all gone away with the cattle,” said Bill, noting my
feelings of surprise. “You wouldn’t have us stay around here with eight
hundred head of stock to be captured, would you? They have gone off to
the Staked Plains.”
I noticed while Coyote Bill was talking that the guns were scattered
all around, and you will, no doubt, wonder that I did not catch one
of them up and turn the tables on them. There was a price of five
thousand dollars set upon the head of Coyote Bill, and it would have
been a fine thing for me to march them all in as prisoners, but I knew
a story worth two of that. One was, I didn’t know how many pistols Bill
had about his person; another was, there might be some men in camp a
short distance away who would upend me before I fairly got the gun
pointed; and furthermore, I was firmly convinced that if I did just as
I was told to do, my release would come in good time, and without the
necessity of shedding anybody’s blood. I tell you it stands a fellow
well in hand to take all these points into consideration.
Breakfast over--and we ate it in a hurry, everyone being obliged to
cook his bacon on a forked stick over the coals--there was nothing left
for us to do but get under way. According to Bill’s order, I picked up
my saddle and followed him through the woods to the prairie, and there
I found my horse tied up to a brush. I was glad to see him again, and
when I got on him he was all ready for a race. During the whole of that
day we travelled without scarcely exchanging a word, but I noticed that
at the top of every swell the outlaws stopped and carefully examined
the ground before them. But no one was in sight, and finally, just as
the sun was setting, we came within sight of Bob’s ranch. There was no
one about it, not even a steer or a horse. I saw that Bill carried my
weapons about with him, and I thought that now was his time to hand
them to me, but Bill had different ideas in his own mind.
“Appearances are often deceptive,” said he. “Carlos, suppose you ride
on and see if there is anybody about that house. If you don’t find
anybody, wave your hat to us.”
“Anybody can see that he has a fine chance for escape,” snarled
Henderson, who was as mad now as he had been the night before. “I wish
I had your power!”
“What would you do with it?” asked Coyote Bill.
“I would let him feel one of the bullets in my pistol,” said
Henderson. “You won’t get anything out of that ranch as long as you let
him escape. He heard every word you said last night.”
“Did you, Carlos?”
“Yes, sir; I did,” said I. I thought I might as well tell the truth as
tell a lie. My heart was in my mouth, but I looked Bill squarely in the
eye.
“Well, I want to know if you are going to tell it?”
“If you tell me not to, I shan’t. I won’t say anything about it while
you are around. I shall go for the States as soon as I can get there,
and Tom will go with me.”
“That will suit me exactly. I am satisfied. Now, go on and see if you
can find anything around that ranch.”
Coyote Bill touched his hat--I have thought more than once from the way
he saluted that he had been in the army--and I rode off. Some things,
which I had gone over so many times that I had them by heart, promptly
came back to me. I wondered if any man who was captured by hostile
Indians was ever treated that way before. What Coyote Bill saw about
me; whether he thought there was something that reminded him of other
and happier days, I don’t know. Anyhow, he had saved me from a horrible
death, and for that I was grateful. I don’t believe there was another
man in the world that could have done it. My horse neighed shrilly as
he approached the house, but there was no one who came out to answer
him. I kept on till I got to the porch, and there I found the door
open and everything in the greatest confusion. The ranch looked almost
as bad as it did when Tom Mason got through searching for the lost
pocket-book, only the things were not all piled in the same place. I
got off from my horse and went in. Bob Davenport’s pillow was on the
floor, but the heavy bag of gold which he had left after paying off his
men was gone. I looked in the place where my money was hidden and found
that it was gone, too. Bob hadn’t left in such a hurry that he had
forgotten to take his valuables with him. I knew that Coyote Bill was
depending on something he never could find, but then I freely forgave
him. It was a plan of his to aid me in my escape. When I had fully
satisfied myself that the money had been taken, I went out on the porch
and waved my hat to Bill, and then I went into the grove to look where
Sam Noble had concealed his, but that also had been taken away. Poor
Sam! He would never miss his money now. And I wondered what had become
of the other two cowboys. I didn’t like to enquire about it.
“It is gone, is it?” exclaimed Bill, who at that moment came galloping
up. “Well, we have had our trouble for our pains. How do things look in
the house?”
“You can go in and see, but everything that will be of use to you has
been removed,” said I. “Are you going to burn the house?”
“Burn it? What should I want to burn it for? I want Bob to come back
here and live.”
“And you are mighty foolish for telling me of it,” said I to myself. “I
will never let him stay in this house again. That’s one thing that I
didn’t promise to keep to myself.”
Coyote Bill tossed his reins to his man and went in, but he did not
spend much time in looking around. It was plain to him that no money
could be concealed there, and finally he came out, took my rifle off
his back and handed it to me.
“There you are,” said he, “and I want you to understand that the gun
hasn’t been fired since you gave it up. There’s your revolvers. Now
buckle them around your waist, so that I can see how you look.”
I wondered what Bill was thinking of when he did this, but I took the
belt and put it around my waist where it belonged, and looked up for
the man to tell what else he had on his mind.
“Now, Henderson, you’re even,” said Bill. “You said, if you had the
power, you’d make him taste one of the bullets in your pistol. Now go
ahead.”
I turned toward Henderson, and saw that his right hand was fumbling
with the pistol in his holster. A minute more and he would have me
covered with it. I looked toward Bill to see what he thought about it.
“You’re even,” said he, stepping back a pace or two. “You have got more
weapons than he has.”
I saw the point Coyote Bill was trying to get at, and in a second I had
Henderson’s head covered with one of my revolvers.
“Hands up!” said I hotly; and his hands came up.
“Bill, I didn’t think that of you,” said Henderson, who was fairly
beside himself with rage.
“You told me that all you wanted was to get the power in your hands,”
said Bill. “Now you have it, and I don’t see why you don’t use it. Be
quick!”
I kept my eyes fastened upon Henderson, and, fearing that Bill’s taunts
might lead him to do something wrong, for which he would always be
sorry,--for there was a good deal of derision in what Bill said, and it
showed what a high estimation he had of Henderson’s courage,--I held
my revolver in readiness for a shot, and stepped forward and took his
gun from its holster and handed it to Bill. The latter took it with an
expression of great disgust on his face, looked at it a moment, and
sent it as far out on the prairie as his sinewy arm could throw it.
“I don’t see what your object is in shooting me, who haven’t done you
any harm,” I said, addressing myself to Henderson, “but I tell you not
to attempt anything with that rifle. If you do, I will tumble you off
your saddle!”
“Henderson will not attempt to shoot us with that,” said Bill. “If he
does he will have three of us to contend with, and I think that is
rather more than he can manage. Now, Henderson, go for Austin as soon
as you can get there.”
“And give up my share of those thirty thousand dollars?” exclaimed
Henderson, his astonishment getting the better of his alarm. “Now,
Bill, that isn’t right!”
Almost before Henderson had got through with these words of protest,
Bill’s hand laid hold of his revolver, while with the other he pointed
out the direction he was to follow. I noticed that Jack’s revolver
came out also--he had been sitting in his saddle all this time--and
rested across the horn, directly in range with Henderson’s person. He
saw that everything was up with him, and without saying a word turned
his horse and rode away; and I may add that was the last I ever saw of
Henderson. We went to Austin a short time afterward, and, although we
kept a bright lookout for him, not a thing did we see of him. Whatever
became of him I don’t know.
“Well, Carlos, so-long,” said Bill, when Henderson had ridden away out
of hearing. “I hope you will reach the States in safety. Put it there.”
“Are you going to leave me here?” said I, overjoyed.
“Yes, I reckon we might as well. What do you say, Jack?”
“Let the kid go. He’s a brave lad,” returned Jack.
“Now, Bill,” said I, as I took the outlaw’s hand in mine, “I want to
say something, if I thought you would not take it to heart.”
“No preaching, now!” said Bill, with a laugh.
“No, I won’t preach. Why do you do this?”
“Well, that’s preaching, and I didn’t agree to answer every one of your
questions.”
“You see something about me that reminds you of days when you did not
do this way,” said I. “That person don’t know where you are, and----”
“That’s neither here nor there,” said Bill impatiently. “So-long,
Carlos. Come on, Jack.”
Jack reached down from his saddle in order to give me a good shake, and
then clattered off up the prairie after Bill. I stood and watched them
for a long time, but neither of them looked around, and finally the
nearest swell hid them from sight. There was something good about that
man, and I never heard of him afterward. Probably he lost his life in
some of his numerous raiding expeditions. But there was one thing about
it: He left one boy behind who was sorry for him.