AN ESCAPE
Rough was the trail followed by the Motor Boys and Mallison; not rough
because of the landslide, for the effects of that had not reached thus
far, but naturally rough because it was in a wild and mountainous
region and little traveled.
“Good thing we didn’t try to bring your new auto here, Tinny,” remarked
Jerry, as the horses scrambled over some perilous footing. “You’d have
two broken axles, I’m thinking.”
“Very likely. Even an ore wagon wouldn’t be safe here. A horse or a
mule is all that can be used. Noddy must have known what was ahead of
him when he swapped his wagon for horses.”
“I don’t think he knows much of anything, except how to be mean,”
stated Ned. “Dolt Haven, who has been out in this region before, may
have put him wise as to what to do.”
This was very likely the case, but it did not alter the fact that Noddy
and his crowd were well in advance of their pursuers and seemed to be
keeping a safe distance ahead of them.
“Well, if we don’t catch him before, we surely will when we head in for
Blue Rock,” declared Bob. “What I can’t understand, though, is how he
can make Bill tell where the treasure chest went over if Bill doesn’t
want to. Noddy won’t torture him, will he?”
“Oh, I don’t believe Noddy would go that far,” Jerry said. “He and Jack
probably think they can influence Bill with money, now that they have
him in their power. And while Bill is a good scout, he hasn’t very much
will power. He may give in and blurt out as much of the secret as he
knows.”
“I think you fellows are worrying unnecessarily,” said Tinny. “That
treasure chest yarn is only a fairy story, as I’ve told you before. The
thing may have happened, but, even if the chest is found, it will prove
to be empty. That stage driver was in cahoots with the robbers. I know
Bill has faith in his old friend, but that doesn’t mean much.”
The Motor Boys were not putting too much faith in the story told by the
old miner, and they shared with Mallison the desire to rescue Cromley.
But, deep down in their hearts, the lads could not help hoping against
hope that there was something in that treasure-chest rumor.
They were now in a very wild and desolate region where mining was
about the only occupation that could be carried on with any degree of
success. Occasionally they came upon parties of rough men who were
thus trying to wrest a living from the earth. And from these men they
learned that Noddy Nixon and his crowd, with Cromley as a captive, had
passed that same way about twelve hours ahead of them.
Questioned as to why they did not attempt to help the prisoner, the
miners merely shrugged their shoulders and muttered that it was none of
their business; they didn’t know what the old fellow might have done.
“We’re cutting down their lead, at least,” announced Ned, hearing this
news one noon. “We may catch up to them before night.”
“Yes,” agreed Jerry.
“But what I can’t understand,” said Bob, “is how they can take Bill
along the trail, bound as they must have him, and not have a lot
of questions asked. They can’t all be as callous as those fellows
back there. Why doesn’t somebody get suspicious and ask why they are
carrying a prisoner with them? If they did this and the authorities
were notified, Bill would have been free long ago.”
“Noddy has very likely made up some sort of story to explain matters,”
suggested Tinny. “He could pass himself and his companions off as
officers in charge of a prisoner. And if they kept Bill gagged, as
they might do, putting a stick in his mouth as they did to Professor
Snodgrass, he couldn’t contradict them. They would only have to keep
the gag in while they were passing through a settlement, or meeting
people. Then, too, they may have Bill so frightened that, even without
a gag, he daren’t shout an alarm to get himself rescued.”
They found out later that Noddy had tried both of these plans with
success, and so it was that though Cromley was observed to be bound and
gagged while on his horse, what Noddy and Jack said made this state of
affairs seem plausible.
They camped that night near a small but swift-running stream, and
before darkness settled they had taken from it some fish which made a
welcome addition to their food, for they had been obliged to live, in
the main, on canned stuff.
The next morning saw them on the way again, and they had their first
bit of good luck about ten o’clock. They passed through a small
mining settlement, and there they learned that a party answering to
the description of Noddy’s crowd had passed through about four hours
previously.
“One of their horses has gone lame,” said Tinny, who had been making
the inquiries. “They have to accommodate the pace of the swiftest to
the slowest-going animal. They don’t seem to have the money to buy more
horses. They’re almost at the end of their rope, boys!”
“Let’s push on fast and see if we can’t catch ’em before night!” cried
Ned.
But to this Mallison objected.
“We’ve got to think of our own horses,” he said. “They’ve been pretty
hard-pushed of late, and if we want them to stand up under the strain
we’ve got to be easy with them. If they go lame it’s all off as far as
the chase goes. Just a little patience, and we’ll have those rascals!”
“Besides, it’s near noon and we want to eat,” added Bob.
Accordingly, a halt was called at noon and the campfire made. They had
bought some supplies in the little settlement where they had got the
latest news of those of whom they were in pursuit, and by a stroke of
good luck they had secured a chicken, which Bob fried most appetizingly.
“Best thing you ever did, Chunky!” called out Mallison, as he leaned
back for a little rest after the meal.
“Glad you liked it,” was the modest rejoinder.
They were all taking a much-needed rest after their dinner, and the
horses were cropping some grass when a noise in the bushes back of Ned,
who was leaning against a rock, startled them all.
Almost as soon as the rustling made itself plain to the ears of the
travelers there was a snorting among the horses, and they appeared to
be much frightened.
“Maybe this is Noddy’s crowd!” exclaimed Bob.
“Our horses wouldn’t be afraid of other animals of the same kind,”
Tinny said. “I’m inclined to believe----”
But he never expressed his belief, for a moment later there was a loud
“Wuff!” and an immense grizzly bear lumbered out of the bushes and
started down the side of the hill along which the trail ran.
“Wow! Look at him! The king of the bears!” shouted Bob, making a grab
for his rifle that was near him.
Before the others could reach their weapons or before Bob could bring
his to a sight, the bear, with another “Wuff,” turned and made his
way back along his own trail faster than he had come down. He was an
exceedingly frightened bruin, it seemed.
The horses snorted and tried to bolt, but Mallison and Jerry were at
their heads instantly, quieting them, for they knew what it meant to be
without mounts in that region.
“Say, that bear actually ran away from us!” cried Ned, for the shaggy,
clumsy creature was out of sight in a few seconds.
“That’s what he did,” declared Tinny. “He didn’t know we were here. He
must have blundered down on us. The wind was blowing from him to us,
and the horses probably smelled him before he burst out of the bushes.
He didn’t scent us or he never would have come as close, for a grizzly
has an acute nose.”
“Would he have attacked us, do you think?” asked Bob.
“Not in a hundred years, if he could get away,” replied Tinny. “Of
course now and then grizzly or black bears will show fight if cornered,
or if they have cubs, but generally they see you first and make for the
tall timber. That’s where this one is headed.”
Indeed, the grizzly was now out of sight, though his odor must have
lingered in the air, for the horses were uneasy for some time afterward.
“Gosh! If I’d been a second quicker I could have popped him over and
we’d have had bear steaks,” lamented Chunky.
“Not much danger of you laying him out with one shot,” said Tinny.
“And if you had wounded him we might have had a nasty fight on our
hands. It’s as well he was frightened away as he was. And as for bear
steaks--well, the less said about them the better.”
“Aren’t they good eating?” asked the fat lad.
“Not to my notion,” was the reply. “They’re too rank. Indians may
relish them, but I don’t. A bear isn’t a very dainty feeder. He’s too
fond of carrion, and that doesn’t make for tasty flesh. I’m just as
glad Mr. Grizzly went.”
But it was many months before Bob ceased lamenting the fine chance he
had missed of bringing to earth a great grizzly bear--for the bear was
an immense one.
“Well, that little excitement will digest our meal,” remarked Ned,
when they had returned after going a little way up the mountain in a
fruitless attempt to catch another sight of bruin.
“Then let’s go!” suggested Jerry, and again they were on the trail
after the kidnapers of Bill Cromley.
It was approaching evening and they had gone on steadily. They had
passed through no more settlements, nor had they met other travelers
or miners of whom they might inquire concerning Noddy’s crowd. But
inasmuch as there had been no branch trail, it was assumed that those
of whom they were in pursuit were not far ahead of them.
And this belief was made very plain a half hour later when, as they
went down a slope, they saw four horsemen ascending the mountain on the
other side of the valley.
“Look! There they are!” cried Jerry, pointing.
“I believe you’re right!” exclaimed Tinny. “Wait until I take a look
through the glasses.”
He had his binoculars with him. Heretofore they had been used in
fruitless gazing at the trail ahead for a possible sight of those in
the lead. But no sooner had the miner put them to his eyes and focused
them, than he cried out:
“That’s Nixon’s gang all right, and Bill is there, sitting on his
horse! They see us, too!” he added quickly. “They’re going to make a
dash for it!”
Even as he spoke the Motor Boys could see, with their unaided eyes,
that there was some movement taking place in the ranks of the four
horsemen. They could be seen urging their steeds up the steep trail.
Suddenly one of the riders was observed to detach himself from the
others. He wheeled his animal about and came dashing down the trail in
the direction of the following party.
“It’s Bill! He’s escaping!” yelled Ned.