SHOTS FROM THE DARK.
As the broncho boys swung through the streets of Soldier Butte, after
leaving the ball, Ted Strong was in the lead, and Bud, Ben, Kit, and
Clay were riding on either side of the carriage, while Jack Slate, with
his black coat tails flapping in the breeze, brought up the rear.
They were passing an alley, at the corner of which an electric lamp shed
a path of light across the street, when a revolver shot cracked out, and
Ted's hat left his head.
The ball had just grazed his scalp, and the merest fraction of an inch
lower would have killed him.
Instantly every one pulled up, and Ted, wheeling suddenly, rode at full
speed for the mouth of the alley.
As he did so another shot came from the alley.
Ted's revolver was in his hand, and he fired at the spot where he had
seen the flash from the muzzle of the assassin's weapon.
He heard Mrs. Graham scream, and turned back to the side of the carriage
only to find that one of the horses attached to it had been hit by the
bullet, and was down, but that neither Stella nor Mrs. Graham had been
injured, and he rode straight into the dark alley, followed by Bud and
Kit, leaving Ben and the other boys to guard the carriage, for he did
not know from what direction another attack might come.
The alley was as dark as a pocket, and as Ted rode into it he well knew
that he was taking his life in his hands.
At the far end of the alley he heard the beat of feet running swiftly,
and fired his revolver several times in that direction, and heard a yell
of pain.
"Come on, fellows," he called. "I think I got one of them that time."
As he said this they saw two dark figures dart out of the alley into the
street at the end opposite that at which the boys had entered, and they
spurred in that direction.
But when they came to the street there was no one in sight, but
splotches of blood on the sidewalk testified to the fact that a wound
had been inflicted upon some one.
They rode up and down the block, but without discovering where their
attackers had taken refuge.
It was a low part of the town, and there was scarcely a house on either
side of the street into which a criminal would not be taken and
concealed.
"We'll have to give it up," said Ted, at last. "We could hunt here all
night without being any the wiser."
Disappointed, they rode back, after tracing the bloodstains along the
sidewalk to where they were lost in the dusty street.
They found that the carriage horse had been so badly hurt that its
recovery was impossible, and Ted mercifully put a bullet into its brain.
The carriage was surrounded by people from the dance hall, who had been
brought by the shots.
Among them was Billy Sudden.
"I reckon I called the turn," said he, as Ted came up.
"You sure did," said Ted.
"I ain't presuming to give advice none," said Billy, "but if it was me
that got his sky piece knocked off and had a horse shot I believe I'd
almost be tempted to round up this yere man's town and capture every
hoodlum in it, and sweat them to find out who fired them shots."
"It wouldn't do any good, Billy," said Ted. "The people in this town
have got it in for the ranch people. They think the ranches are taking
trade away from them. They'd sooner see the ranches split into farms of
forty acres each. They'd have so many more farmers to rob that way."
"I reckon so. But what are you going to do? I want to tell you that me
and my boys stand with you till the burning pit freezes over, whenever
and wherever you need us."
"May have to call on you one of these days, but not now."
"Ain't you going after that young imp, Creviss? Say, he's the meanest
boy I ever saw. If I was his father I'd make him behave, or I'd bust him
wide open."
"I understand his father thinks Wiley is just smart and spirited, and is
ready to back him up in anything he does."
"Ought to make the old man popular."
"Not so you can see it. But that boy is a tough citizen, and getting
tougher every day."
"I'm hearing a good deal about that kid these days. He trains with a
bunch of bad ones over at Strongburg."
"For instance?"
"Lately he's been running with 'Skip' Riley, a crook who has the
reputation of having made more money out of holding up trains than by
working."
"I know his record. How long has he been there?"
"Several months. He came there from the Nebraska penitentiary, and he
was smooth enough to work the reformed-criminal, first-offense racket on
the women there until they finally got him a job in the fire department.
He seems to be a hero in the eyes of a lot of tough young fellows here
and in Strongburg, and they follow him in anything he suggests."
"That's not a healthy proposition for a boy. Mr. Riley ought to be
conducted out of town."
"The worst of it is he has banded them into some sort of secret
organization."
"What do they call it?"
"I did know, but I've plumb forgotten. There's a young fellow uptown
whom I'm trying to keep straight on account of his folks back East. I
know his sister." Ted could see Billy's face get red as he said this.
"His name is Jack Farley. Perhaps you know him."
Ted shook his head.
"Well, he's a good kid, but he got into bad company at home and skipped.
I corresponded once in a while with his sister, and she wrote me about
him, and one day I run across him in a gambling house here. I hadn't
seen him since he was a kid, but I knew him straight off because he
looks so much like Kate--Miss Farley I mean--and I called him outside
and had a talk with him. He was mighty uppy at first, and threw it into
me so hard that I had to turn in and whale some sense into him."
"That's one way of doing it," said Ted dryly.
"It was the only way for him. He thought he'd get sympathy by writing
home about it, but all he got was that they reckoned he deserved it or
he wouldn't have got it. After that he was good. But he'd got in with
that Creviss bunch and didn't seem able to get out of it, so I let him
stay, only I made him come to me every day or two and tell me what he'd
been up to, and that's as far as I've got."
"Send him out to me."
"He won't work on a ranch, or I'd had him out at the Dumb-bell long ago.
He likes to work in town, so I got him a job, and so far he has stuck to
it. But the gang keeps him from doing any good for himself. He knows the
name of this organization of boys under Skip, and the next time I see
him I'll find out what it is. Then you keep your eye peeled for it, for
Creviss is one of the leaders, and I'm afraid, after to-night, he'll do
all he can to make things lively for you. He's a mean, vindictive little
cuss."
"I'll keep a weather eye out for him, never fear. Thank you for the tip.
This is the first time I've heard of the bunch, I've been away from the
ranch so much lately."
The boys had hitched Jack Slate's horse into the carriage, and he got on
the seat with Carl, and they were ready to start.
With an "Adios" to Billy Sudden and his boys, they were off, and arrived
at the ranch house without further incident.
Mrs. Graham and Stella had retired for the night, and the boys were
sitting before the fire in the living room, for the night was chilly and
Song had built up a good blaze against their return.
Naturally, the conversation drifted to the shots fired at them from the
alley.
"While I wuz ambulatin' eround ter-night I overheard some conversation
what wuz interestin'," remarked Bud, who was sprawling on a bearskin in
front of the fire.
"What was it?" asked Ted, who had been turning over in his mind what
Billy Sudden had told him of the organization of tough boys under the
guidance of the ex-convict.
"I wuz standin' clost ter one o' ther winders what opens out onter ther
alley when I hears two fellers talkin' below me," said Bud.
"What were they saying?"
"I wuzn't aimin' ter listen ter no one's privut conversation, but I
caught your name, an' I tried ter hear what wuz said erbout yer."
"Naturally."
"One feller wuz talkin' pritty loud, ez if he'd been hittin' up ther
tangle juice, an' ther other feller wuz tryin' ter make him put on ther
soft pedal, what Clay calls talkin' pianissimo. But when the booze is in
ther wit is out, an' ther feller would shut it down some fer a while,
then he'd get a good lungful o' air an' bust out ergin."
"What was it all about?"
"Erbout runnin' us off'n ther reservation."
"They'd have a fine chance to do that," said Ted, laughing.
"It seems they hev some sort o' a club, ther 'Flyin' somethin' er
other'--I couldn't jest catch what. To hear them fellers talk they're
holy terrors."
"How do they propose to run us off? Did you hear that?"
"No; they didn't discuss ways an' means, but they said as how ther boss,
they mentioned his name, but it's clear got erway from me, hed riz up on
his hind legs an' hed give it out straight to ther gang thet ez long ez
we wuz in ther country they couldn't do no good fer theirselfs,
consequentially we must skidoo, ez they needed this part o' ther country
fer their own elbowroom. They wuz real sassy erbout it, too."
"I suppose they thought all they had to do was to serve notice on us,
and we'd vacate."
"I reckon thet's ther way they hed it chalked up."
"Well, that bears out what Billy Sudden told me to-night after we were
shot at."
Then Ted related what Billy had told him about Skip Riley and his
influence on the boys of Soldier Butte and Strongburg.
"Thet thar's ther very feller they wuz talkin' erbout, thet Skip Riley.
Now I recolict it, an' ther name o' their sweet-scented aggergation is
ther 'Flyin' Demons.'"
"Oh, mercy! Aren't they just awful?" said Ben, with a grin. "But which
way are they expected to fly, toward you or from you?"
"If they come monkeyin' eround these broad acres they'll be flyin' fer
home," said Bud.
"Or to jail, if we can prove what I believe against them," said Ted
thoughtfully.
"What is that?" asked Kit.
"You haven't forgotten the mysterious robbery of the Strongburg Trust
Company's office, have you?"
"Nope."
"You remember that a great many people to this day disbelieve that the
office was robbed at all, because everything was found locked and
barred, and the most careful examination showed that no one could have
broken into the room from which a box containing twenty thousand dollars
in currency and a package of negotiable bonds was stolen."
"Shore, I remember. That's allays been ther greatest mystery in these
parts."
"You haven't forgotten the robbery soon afterward of the Soldier Butte
post office and the disappearance of the registered mail pouch that came
in on the train at two o'clock in the morning. It was thrown into the
inner office by the carrier, and the office securely locked. Yet in the
morning it could not be found, and there was nothing to show that the
post office had been entered."
"I reckon I haven't. We lost a bunch o' money in it ourselves."
"But we got it back."
"That's so, but the carrier is still in jail, awaitin' trial fer
stealin' the sack, an' I don't believe he had any more ter do with it
than I had."
"And yet the most careful examination by the post-office inspectors
failed to show that the place had been forcibly entered, and, although
the carrier, Jim Bliss, had witnesses to show that he went into the post
office with the sack, and came right out without it, still he is in
jail, accused of stealing it," said Kit.
"There are several other cases of mysterious robberies which I might
cite, but those are enough," said Ted. "But the curious thing about it
all is that the robbers left not the slightest trace, not a broken lock,
not a mark to show that a window was forced or a hole bored. When the
place is closed up at night there is the money, when it is opened in the
morning the money is gone. And again, these robberies only occur when
valuables are accidentally left out of the vaults."
"It is curious. Everything yer say is true, but I never thought erlong
it ez much ez you, an' I didn't figger out how near they wuz alike."
"Well, what's your theory?" asked Ben. "You started to tell us."
"Yes, who do you think committed these robberies?" asked Kit.
"Who but a gang of bad boys under the leadership and tutelage of a
criminal?" answered Ted. "Who but the gang of Strongburg and Soldier
Butte young toughs who go by the silly name of 'The Flying Demons'? If
they get gay around this ranch, we'll have to tie a can to them and head
them for the reform school or the penitentiary."