There was a suggestion of tartness in the cowman's prompt "Sure! He rode
behind me all the way back, on his word not to attempt anything, and kept
it. Could have pulled my own gun on me if he'd wanted to."
"The more fool," muttered the railroad man as he spread the roll of paper
on the table.
Alex meantime had stepped to the window from which he had taken the
fragment of glass, and was disconsolately watching a half dozen hens
scratching about below.
Lifting his eyes, he glanced out over the plain. The men at the table
heard a sharply-indrawn breath. It was immediately changed into a low
whistling, however, and they gave their attention again to the map.
Alex had discovered three horsemen heading for the ranch from the north.
And the leading pony he would have known in a hundred. It was Little
Hawk's heavily-mottled horse.
That they were coming to his assistance--that someone had heard the
knocking on the wire--he had not a doubt.
The horsemen were still some distance out of hearing. Ceasing the
whistling, Alex glanced casually toward the table. Seated in chairs, the
two men were still deeply engrossed in the plan before them, talking in
low voices.
When on turning back to the window Alex recognized the second horseman as
Superintendent Finnan, he shot a further glance toward the K. & Z. man at
the table, and a smile of anticipation and delight overspread his face.
Then suddenly it occurred to him that in a few minutes the hoofbeats of
the on-coming horses would be heard, and that Bennet would have time to
get to the door and escape.
He must halt his rescuers, and signal them to approach on foot!
A moment Alex thought, then casually remarking to the cowman, "I'm going
to open the window. It's hot," unlatched and swung the sash inward. The
move passed unnoticed, and leaning out he pretended to call the chickens.
What he was in reality doing was energetically waving his handkerchief
backwards and forwards below, making the railroad "stop" signal.
The horsemen came on. If they came much farther they would be heard!
He paused, and waved again, more energetically. The third horseman pulled
up. Quickly Alex followed with the signal to "come ahead with caution."
The rear pony spurred forward, pulled up beside the second, and
apparently at a call, the Indian also halted. On Alex repeating the last
signal, all dismounted, and he knew he had been understood.
Leaving their horses where they were, the three men came on at a quick
walk. Alex, continuing to talk to the hens, could scarcely contain his
secret delight.
When his rescuers were within a hundred yards of the cabin, he once more
signalled caution, and they continued stealthily, revolvers in hand.
They reached the corner of the house, unheard by the men at the table.
The superintendent raised his eyebrows questioningly. Alex glanced over
his shoulder, and nodded sharply. The next moment there was a rush of
feet without, and all in a twinkle Bennet and the cowman were out of
their chairs, at the door, and staggering back before three threatening
revolvers. Staring open-mouthed, they brought up beside the overturned
table.
Alex's words were the first. "These were the chickens I was calling, Mr.
Bennet," he remarked gleefully. The K. & Z. man recovered himself and
turned on the boy, white with passion. He was stopped by an exclamation
from Finnan. "Bennet! George Bennet! What are you doing here?"
"Perhaps this will explain, sir," said Alex, handing over the map, which
he had caught up during the excitement. Bennet made a frantic move to
intercept him, but promptly Little Hawk's revolver was in his face, and
he sank back into a chair, gritting his teeth.
"A plan showing every bridge and culvert on our line, and directions for
blowing them all up, simultaneously! Well--" Words failed the
superintendent.
"And this is what you have come to, Bennet? I'd never have believed it!"
There was a second awkward silence, when Superintendent Finnan suddenly
broke it with, "Look here. I've got you now, haven't I? I've got you
where I can put you in jail for a year or so at least. Well, instead of
doing that, I'll make you a proposition:
"Drop all this kind of work; guarantee that there will be no more of
it--agree to make it a straight, square building race between your road
and mine, the first one to reach the Pass to win--guarantee that, and
I'll let you go.
"Do you agree?"
Bennet rose to his feet and held out his hand. "I'll give you my solemn
word, Finnan.
"And--and I'm awfully sorry I ever consented to go into this kind of
thing," the K. & Z. man went on, a quaver in his voice. "But it was put
up to me, and when I'd taken the first step, I thought I'd have to carry
it through."
He turned to Alex. "I'm sorry for the way you have been treated, my lad.
You are a plucky boy, and straight. You keep on as you have, and you'll
never find yourself in the position I am.
"I offered him two hundred dollars cash and a hundred a month to keep his
mouth quiet," the speaker explained to the superintendent, "and he
refused it."
"How about the Antelope viaduct, Mr. Finnan?" Alex asked as they rode
away, he on one of Munson's loaned ponies. "It wasn't blown up?"
"No, but an attempt of some kind was made. Rather a mysterious affair,"
the superintendent said. "Late last night an Italian of the fill gang was
seen stealing to one of the main foundations, then kicking and tearing
something to pieces. Norton followed him, and found some fuses, and
fragments of paper that had been wrapped about some strange kind of
explosive, which apparently had failed to ignite. The Italian has not
been seen since."
Alex was chuckling. "I think I can guess why that 'strange explosive'
failed to go off, sir," he said. "It was clay." And continuing, he
explained the mystery in detail. Superintendent Finnan laughed heartily.
"Well, Ward, you are certainly due a vote of thanks," he declared
seriously. "You saved the viaduct, and now you probably have brought
about the ending of the entire trouble with the K. & Z. people. I'll not
fail to turn in a thorough report of it."