To make doubly sure, he tried the third, and with an exulting, "_The same
again!_" started to his feet, and struck on, whistling gaily, confident
he was heading due north, and that this was the same fence he had seen
along the new embankment.
A further cheering thought occurred to the young operator presently. The
construction-train should not be far from the stretch of road which
paralleled the fence!
Onward he pushed through the darkness at a steady, swinging gait, feeling
frequently for the fence, to make sure he was not wandering.
For what seemed several hours Alex had been walking, when a faint light
appeared in the sky. It was to his right. His plainsmanship had not put
him amiss.
As the light brightened he gazed anxiously ahead. The ragged, thin-posted
fence stretched unbroken to the northern horizon. He had hoped the light
would reveal the swing to the east, and the dark shape of the
construction-train.
Alex continued steadily ahead, however, buoying up his lagging energies
with pictures of a hot, appetizing meal and a pleasant meeting with Jack
and the rest of his friends on the train. And finally, when the sun had
been some time above the horizon, he uttered a shout. Far in front, but
distinct in the beautifully clear air, the fence turned abruptly to the
east. And less than a mile sun-ward was a long dark shape and columns of
smoke rising lazily into the air.
Scrambling through the fence, Alex set off on a bee-line for the train,
whistling a brisk march.
Five minutes later the whistler paused in the middle of a note and spun
sharply about. The color left his bronzed face. A mile to the rear, on
the other side of the fence, a horseman was following him at full speed.
A glance at the white-faced pony told it was Munson, and turning, Alex
was off, running with every ounce of his remaining energy.
The thud of the hoofs gained rapidly.
Closer they came, and Alex headed off farther from the fence. Perhaps
he'll be afraid to put the horse at the wire, he thought hopefully. He
glanced back. The cowman was wheeling off for the jump.
In despair Alex looked over the long mile still separating him from the
train, and again over his shoulder. Would the horse make it? He slightly
slowed his steps as the animal made the rush.
It went over like a bird.
Gritting his teeth, Alex dashed straight back for the fence. "I'll make
him jump his head off before he gets me, anyway," he said grimly.
Flogging the pony, the cowman endeavored to head the boy off, but Alex
reached the wire, and dove safely through. Scrambling to his feet, he was
on again, this time keeping closer to the fence.
It was as the pony drew up abreast fifty feet distant, and while the
train was still a good mile away, that the idea of signalling for help on
the fence-wire occurred to Alex. He acted immediately. Catching up a
good-sized stone, he ran forward, and on the topmost wire, near one of
the posts, pounded with all his might the telegraph dot letters "_Oh! Oh!
Orr! Orr!_"
Munson had pulled up as Alex ran for the fence. When the boy began
pounding the wire he at once recognized its purpose, and sprang from his
horse, drawing his pistol.
Instantly Alex darted on, carrying the stone. The cowman ran after. But
the man was slow on his feet, and despite his fatigue, Alex drew away
from him.
"Stop, or I'll shoot!" cried the cow-puncher. "_Pull up! I will!_"
"Go ahead, and they'll hear you at the train!" called Alex, though
secretly trembling. The cowman hesitated, then returned the revolver to
its holster, and ran back for his horse. Immediately Alex was again at
the wire, pounding out, "_Oh! Oh! Orr! Orr!_"
The cowman was again up with him, and once more he ran on, gazing
anxiously toward the train for signs of commotion to show his appeal had
been heard.
For some distance the strange race continued, the cowman, angry and
puzzled, on one side of the fence, Alex keeping close to the wires on the
other, in readiness to dodge under should his pursuer jump.
Finally the rider again swung off, and headed in at a gallop. Grimly Alex
halted. With a rush the horse came directly toward him. Waiting until it
was within a few yards of him, he dropped to his knees, and crawled half
way through the fence.
It was his undoing. Straight at him the horseman came, as though to jump.
Then suddenly the rider whirled broadside, leaned from the saddle, and
before Alex, wildly scrambling, could withdraw, had him firmly by the
hair. By main force the cowboy dragged his prisoner through the fence,
and upright beside him.
With a half-stifled sob Alex lurched limply against the pony's shoulders.
"Never mind, kid," said the cowman not unkindly. "You made a good fight
of it. You did your best. But I had to do my best too.
"If you'll give me your word to go quiet, I'll let you ride behind me,"
he added. "Promise?"
Alex cast a last look back toward the construction-train. A few figures
were moving about, slowly. Clearly his signals had not been heard.
"All right," he said wearily, and with some difficulty mounting behind
the cowboy, they were off the weary way he had come.
* * * * *
Jack, at the construction-train, rose late that morning. He had been up
nearly all night, awaiting news from the viaduct search-party, which
throughout the entire day had been scouring the nearby country for his
unaccountably missing chum. As he emerged from the telegraph-car door he
found the Indian, Little Hawk, on the adjoining steps of the store-car.
"Good morning, Mr. Little Hawk," he said. "Sunning yourself?"
"I wait for you. I hear noise--knock," the Indian said.
"Knock, like little tick-knock in car," he added as Jack regarded him,
mystified.
"Tick-knock? What do you mean?"
"On fence," said the Indian stolidly. "Hearum twice. Like dis:" And while
Jack's eyes opened wide, with a stone he held in his hand the Indian
tapped on the iron hand-rail of the car the telegraph words,
"Oh--Oh--Orr."
In a moment Jack was on the ground before him, all excitement. "Where?
Where did you hear it?" he cried.
"Fence. Sleep dar," said the Indian, pointing to the nearby fence. "No
t'ink much about. Den see horse run--way dar. Den t'ink tick-knock, an'
come you."
Uttering a shrill shout Jack was off on the jump to find Superintendent
Finnan. And fifteen minutes later the superintendent, Little Hawk, and
one of the foremen, mounted, were away on the gallop along the ranch
fence toward the point at which the Indian had seen the disappearing
horseman.
* * * * *
Alex was thoroughly exhausted when he found himself once more at the
ranch. Slipping to the ground, he entered the cabin of his own accord,
and threw himself dejectedly upon the couch.
"You've near spoiled a dinged fine rope," observed Munson, following him,
and kicking at the lariat, still stretched across the floor. "Oh, well, I
can take it out of the K. & Z.
"Now for some breakfast. Suppose you don't feel too bad to grub, eh?
Though you sure don't deserve none."
As on the previous morning, Alex and his jailer were near the conclusion
of the meal when hoofbeats again told of the approach of a visitor. Going
to the door, the cowman announced "Bennet."
"So that's his name, is it?" said Alex quickly.
"What? Did I say--Well, let it go. I don't see that it makes much
difference. Yes, Bennet's his name.
"And mighty lucky thing I have you back here," he added over his
shoulder.
"Good morning, Mr. Bennet," he said. "Caught us at breakfast again."
"Breakfast! What are you doing at breakfast this time of day?" inquired
the K. & Z. man, entering. When the cowman explained, the newcomer
glowered at Alex threateningly. "Why didn't you shoot?" he demanded.
"Too near the train. They would have heard it," responded Munson.
"Well, clear off the table. I have something I want to show you," said
Bennet, producing what looked like a map from his pocket.
"And you get off to a corner," he snarled at Alex. "Why isn't he tied
up?" he demanded of the cowboy.
"He agreed to a twenty-four hours' truce--not to make another break in
that time," the cowman answered as he swept their few dishes into the
cupboard.