ANOTHER CAPTURE.
Roy Hooker, interrupted in the midst of his narrative by the appearance
of the constable and the posse, was not a little startled, but his
dismay was nothing compared with that of Fred Sage. For a few moments
following the assertion of Abel Hubbard Fred apparently found it
impossible to speak, although he made an effort to do so. Recovering his
voice presently, he falteringly and huskily cried:
“One of the bank robbers here? It’s impossible, Mr. Hubbard! You’re
certainly mistaken.”
“Maybe so,” admitted the constable, rolling a quid of tobacco into his
plump cheek; “but we’ll see about that. I received notice that he was
here from a certain young feller that’s showed himself rather wise and
slick by ketching one of the bunch.”
“By which,” said a voice, as Sleuth Piper stepped forward, “the worthy
officer refers to me.”
“You!” gasped Fred, resentment mingling with his alarm. “You! I might
have guessed it! You’ve got a grudge against me, Piper, and you’ve made
all sorts of trouble for——”
“I positively disclaim any personal animosity,” interrupted Sleuth. “I’m
simply doing my duty, that the ends of justice may be attained. I will
add, Sage, that I’m mighty sorry to see you involved.”
Following this statement he turned somewhat savagely upon Hooker, to
whose side he quickly stepped.
“You’re to blame,” he snapped in a low tone. “You forced me into this
sooner than I intended.”
“_I_ did?” muttered Roy, astonished. “How?”
“You broke your pledge to me. You forgot your solemn oath. I suspected
that you might, and, fortunately, I had my eyes open. I saw you skin up
here to tell Sage, and I lost no time in notifying the constable and
getting him to bring an armed party to search these premises.”
“I’ll bet they don’t find anything,” said Hooker. “I hope not. If they
don’t, it will take some of the swelling out of your head.”
“Time is val’able,” announced Abel Hubbard sagely, “so we’ll begin
s’arching right away. We’ll take the stable fust, and then we’ll go
through the house. Git at it, boys,” he commanded, with a wave of one
pudgy hand.
The men started to obey, but before they could really begin the door of
the little granary at one side of the stable swung open, and a man
stepped out into view.
“If you’re looking for me,” he said coolly, “you needn’t go any further;
but let me state right here that I was in no way concerned in that
attempted bank robbery.”
“Clarence!” gasped Fred Sage.
“The man I met in the woods!” burst from Hooker’s lips.
“Gentleman Jim, or I’ll eat my hat!” exulted Piper. “Nab him, men! He’s
desperate! Don’t let him play any tricks!”
Immediately the man, who was indeed the mysterious stranger with whom
Hooker had conversed, was covered by several loaded guns and commanded
to throw up his hands, an order which he disdainfully obeyed.
“It won’t be necessary to shoot,” he said. “I sha’n’t offer the
slightest resistance.”
“Keep him kivered,” fluttered Constable Hubbard—“keep him kivered till I
put the irons on him!”
Producing a set of old-fashioned manacles, the excited constable
bunglingly snapped them upon the wrists of the man.
“There!” he breathed in deep satisfaction; “we’ve got _you_, all right.
By golly! that boy Piper is a wonder.”
“Constable,” said Sleuth, remindingly, “you mustn’t forget that it was
solely through information supplied by me that Mr. James Wilson, _alias_
Gentleman Jim, was captured. I shall lay claims to the reward offered
for him.”
“I guess you’ll git your share of it, if he’s the feller you think he
is.”
“He’s nobody of the sort,” excitedly asserted Fred Sage. “He’s in no way
connected with the bank robbers. You’re making a dreadful blunder.”
“Then what’s he doing, hiding here?” questioned Hubbard incredulously.
“Mebbe you can explain that.”
“Yes, yes,” faltered Fred, “perhaps—I can.”
“Don’t try it,” implored the prisoner quickly. “It won’t do any good,
Fred; they wouldn’t believe you. I should have gone away yesterday and
saved you all this trouble.”
“It’s awful,” choked young Sage—“awful for you! Oh, what made you come
here at all!”
“Simply because I was a fool and couldn’t keep away,” was the bitter
answer.
“This ain’t no place to chin it over,” said the constable sharply. “It’s
my business to lodge this here gent in the lockup, and I’m going to do
so jest about as quick as I can.”
“Wait a minute,” pleaded Fred. “My mother doesn’t know. She’s in the
house. Doubtless she’s in terror now because of all these armed men
around the place. Wait two minutes, until I can go inside and prevent
her from looking out of the window when you take Clar—this man away.
Won’t you do that much, Mr. Hubbard?”
“I don’t see no reason why I shouldn’t. Go ahead, young feller, and
soothe down your mammy. I’ll give ye jest two minutes, and then we’ll
march this feller off to the caboose.”
Flinging a final resentful look at Piper, Fred hurried into the house.
Sleuth, preening himself proudly, could not refrain from giving Hooker
another jab.
“You did a good thing for yourself, Hook,” he sneered. “By going back on
me, you cut yourself out of any share in the reward money. We’ve got the
feller who calls himself James Wilson; there’s no doubt about that.
Furthermore, you must have observed that Fred called him Clarence, which
fully confirms my deduction that Clarence Sage is not dead, although an
unknown man was buried under that name.”
“It looks as if you’re right, Pipe,” admitted Roy sadly; “but losing a
share of the reward don’t hurt me half as much as knowing what this
means to Fred and his folks.”
“Time’s up,” announced Constable Hubbard, snapping shut the case of his
silver watch and dropping it into his pocket. “Come on, Mr. Crook;
for’ard, march!”