FRED’S STORY, CONCLUDED.
“BELIEVING that some of the members of this band of robbers knew where
father was,” continued White-horse Fred, “I watched for an opportunity
to join it, and finally succeeded in my object. I became one of the
runners, or couriers; that is, it was my duty to convey orders and
the stolen property from one point to another. It was a subordinate
position, although I ran just as much risk as Sanders, or any other
member of the band who did the stealing, and I knew that as long as I
held it I could not hope to learn much of the secret business of the
organization; consequently I worked hard for promotion, and, if I am
to believe what I have been told, I did some reckless things. At any
rate, it wasn’t long before the name of White-horse Fred became pretty
well known about here. I have been chased and shot at by soldiers
and settlers more times than I can remember, and I have been in the
fort when the officers were talking about me and laying plans for my
capture.”
“Why didn’t they recognize you?” asked Julian.
“I didn’t say that _I_ was well known, did I? I said my _name_ was. The
officers didn’t know who I was—that’s the reason they didn’t recognize
me. There were only five men who knew me by the name I bore—Smirker,
and the four fellows at Hale’s rancho. No one dreamed that White-horse
Fred and the apparition who kept Uncle Reginald’s rancho in such an
uproar were one and the same person, and I had emphatic orders from
Silas and Juan never to reveal myself. Everybody had heard of the queer
doings at Uncle Reginald’s, and it was whispered about among the
robbers that Fred Mortimer and old Juan had risen from their graves to
torment their murderers. I was in hopes that we would soon frighten
Reginald away; but he had come there after father’s money, and he was
determined he would not go until he got it.
“All this while—my story has now covered the space of more than seven
years—Reginald was keeping father closely confined in some hidden
prison, hoping to break his spirit and force him to tell where his
money was concealed. But father remained firm, and Reginald became
tired of waiting at last, and so did Sanders. The latter finally
thought up another plan by which to obtain possession of the treasure,
and when he had matured it he went to Reginald to talk it over.
“Old Juan, who was always on the watch, saw him go into the rancho, and
believing that he had some private business to transact that it might
be well for him to overhear, he went into the passage-way, opened the
secret door that led into Reginald’s sleeping-room, and set himself to
listen. We afterward learned that there was another listener to that
conversation, and it was Richard. He and Reginald were now at open
enmity. He never made his appearance at the rancho in the day-time, but
loitered about there of nights, searching everywhere for the money,
and taking notes of all that was going on—and I ought to say right
here that Richard and Sanders, who had hitherto been fast friends, had
a falling out. Richard, for some reasons of his own, did not want his
cousin to know that you were alive. Sanders and Smirker were the only
ones beside himself who were acquainted with the secret, and as soon as
they found out that he wanted it kept from Reginald’s knowledge they
demanded yellow boys as the price of their silence. Richard supplied
their wants as long as he could, but at last his funds were exhausted
and he could obtain no more. Sanders had been expecting this, and
having pumped Richard’s pockets dry, he deserted him and went over to
Reginald.
“‘Capen,’ said Sanders, when he and Reginald had locked themselves in
the bed-room in which their private interviews were always held, ‘I’m
gettin’ monstrous tired of waitin’ fur a sight o’ them big nuggets. The
old major’s never goin’ to give in—he’ll die fust.’
“‘I am afraid so,’ replied Reginald; ‘but what can I do more than I
have done? It is a very easy thing to deprive a man of his liberty,
but it’s quite a different matter to make him open his mouth when he’s
determined he won’t. If we had only been smart enough to keep the boys
alive, we could have worked on his feelings through them. But he knows
they are dead, and that’s what makes him so desperate.’
“‘I know nary one of ’em hain’t dead,’ replied Sanders. ‘I mean, you
see——’
“‘Yes, I know what you mean. You mean that they are both dead,
but that one of them has come back and walks around nights,’ said
Reginald, looking all about the room as if he expected to see something
frightful. ‘But you haven’t seen the other—Julian—have you.’
“‘No; but I know he’s alive. Oh, it’s a fact,’ added Sanders, seeing
by the expression on Reginald’s face that he was hardly prepared to
believe this. ‘He wasn’t never hurt at all. Fred was flung into the
lake and drownded—an’ I don’t see why in creation he don’t stay
thar—but Julian wasn’t.’
“And with this preface, Sanders went on to tell what Richard had done
with you, and why he had saved you alive. He said that from some
remarks Richard had accidentally let fall he had learned pretty nearly
where you could be found, and added that for a suitable consideration
he would produce you.
“‘An’ when we get him out here, capen, we’ll have two strings to our
bow,’ continued Sanders. ‘I don’t go in very strong fur attemptin’ to
work on the feelin’s of the major—leastways not till we have tried
something else—’cause he’s awfully hard-headed, an’ when he onct makes
up his mind to a thing he’s as sot as one of the Rocky Mountains.
Thar’s one other man in the world who knows whar the nuggets is hid,
an’ if we can get hold of him, I b’lieve we can make _him_ open his
mouth. It’s Silas Roper. You see, him an’ old Juan used to do purty
much as they pleased here in the major’s time, an’ they knowed all
about his private business matters. Juan would be the best one to work
on, ’cause he hain’t got Silas’s grit, but he hain’t come back here in
sich shape that we can manage him.’
“‘But we don’t know where Silas is,’ said Reginald.
“‘Never mind. He’s about here somewhar, an I’ll bet a hoss onto it. An’
I’ll bet on another thing, too: As soon as Silas finds out that we’ve
got Julian here he’ll come out of his hidin’-place, an’ we can captur’
him. Understand my plan, don’t you?’
“Reginald did understand it, and gave it his hearty approval. He spent
an hour talking the matter over with Sanders, giving him some very
minute instructions, so that there could be no possible chance for
failure, and brought the interview to an end by telling him a long list
of lies to be repeated to you, and furnishing him money to bear his
expenses to the States.”
“I have often wondered what object Sanders could have had in
misrepresenting things as he did,” remarked Julian.
“I can tell you. Reginald thought it very probable that you had been
left in some thickly settled part of the country, and he was afraid
that Sanders, if left to himself, might attempt to carry you away
by force. By doing that he might have aroused the settlers and the
officers of the law in the neighborhood, and thus defeated his plans.
If he had once succeeded in getting you out on the prairie away from
everybody, he would have thrown off his mask and appeared in his true
character very quickly.
“Sanders started for the States that very night, and so did Richard.
The latter was determined that if he could not possess father’s money
nobody should, and he hoped to reach your hiding-place in advance
of Sanders, and dispose of you so effectually that you never could
be found. Old Juan told Silas about it when he came in from the
mountains, and he also started for the States, intending to wait
for you at St. Joe, and to take charge of you if Sanders brought you
there. He succeeded in getting hold of you at last, and brought you to
the mountains. Richard, finding himself outwitted, joined your train
in disguise, hoping to find an opportunity to shoot you during the
journey, while Sanders came on ahead and raised a band of Indians to
attack the train. He had been promised $5,000 if he would deliver you
into Reginald’s hands, and that money he was determined to have. Our
affairs have been pretty well mixed up for the last eight years, but
this night will see them straightened out again.”
“I certainly hope so. But, Fred, why didn’t Silas, when he found me,
tell me that he was a friend, and that he would assist me?”
“He did tell you that. If he had told you more, would you have believed
him? Hadn’t Sanders deceived you and made you suspicious of everybody?
When you and Silas were sitting on the steps of the hotel in St. Joe,
and he told you that he knew who you were, didn’t you jump up and run
away from him? The old fellow isn’t much given to talking anyhow. He
believes in actions rather than words. You know that he was captured by
Sanders and some of his band on the night the train was attacked, and
that he escaped from them the next morning.”
“What would Reginald have done to him if he had been brought to the
rancho?”
“He would have tried to force him to tell where father’s money was
hidden, and if he had refused, as he certainly would have done, that
would have been the last of Silas. Then Reginald would have used you to
frighten father, telling him that he had you in his power, and that if
he didn’t tell where that money was he would do something dreadful to
you.”
“What was Reginald’s object in treating me so kindly? Why didn’t he
keep me a close prisoner?”
“Why, he wanted to make Silas Roper show himself, so that he could be
captured. That could never be done by shutting you up. The best way
was to give you full swing, and allow you to roam about as much as
you pleased, for then Silas would be sure to see you, and you would
sooner or later get into the habit of meeting him regularly; and when
that state of affairs had been brought about, it would be but little
trouble for Sanders and some of his band to surprise and capture Silas.
In order to make you contented and willing to stay with him, Reginald
provided you with every comfort, and told you that story about your
being the sole heir to the property. He thought that would serve as
well as bolts and bars to keep you about the rancho, for no boy in full
possession of his senses would be likely to run away while he believed
that he had a million or two in prospect.
“I was out riding my route on the night you arrived, but old Juan
was on the watch as usual, and he knew when you were brought into
the rancho. He frightened Richard, and made him abandon the idea of
carrying you off to the mountains; and when you fell down in a swoon,
he and Romez took you back to your room and put you to bed. It was
Juan who wrote the note you received, and opened your windows the next
morning before you awoke.”
“I shall never forget how surprised I was to find that some one had
been in there,” observed Julian.
“When I visited Juan the next morning I found Silas with him. They told
me what had happened the night before, adding that you had just gone
out riding on Snowdrop. I was very much disappointed, for I had hoped
to meet you as soon as you arrived. You see, to explain how you came
by that mare, I make my home with Antoine, the herdsman. When I return
from Hale’s I generally go there and leave my horse, and then set off
to visit old Juan. Yesterday morning when I went home I found Snowdrop
missing, and Antoine told me that Reginald had taken her. He gave her
to you, and that one move on his part did us more good than eight
years’ hard work has done.
“I had an encouraging piece of news for Silas. Smirker had told me
that he knew where father was confined, and the trapper and I, after
talking the matter over, decided to arrest him, and force the secret
from him. On the same day he told me this he communicated to me another
piece of news, and that was that he had two holes to his burrow, and a
way of escape to be made use of in case of an attack from the soldiers
or settlers; and thinking that if we concluded to make a raid on him
when Silas came home, it might be well enough to know where that other
hole to his burrow was, I spent one whole day in looking for it. I
discovered it at last, and when I came down through it and burst into
his cabin, Smirker was so angry that he had half a mind to shoot me.”
“He told me about that,” said Julian. “But did he never suspect your
identity?”
“Never until this morning; and then he did not suspect me at first,
but you. He was one of those who threw me into the lake, and when
he learned that I wouldn’t stay there, and that I had come back to
Reginald’s rancho, and was cutting up dreadful shines, he became badly
frightened. He often talked to me about it, and acknowledged that he
was afraid that the “haunt,” as he called it, might take it into his
head to visit his cabin. When he saw us together this morning, and
found out that one of us was a Mortimer, he knew the other must be
also, for he says we look exactly alike, and so does Silas. Hale and
his crowd must also see a very strong resemblance, or else you never
could have passed yourself off for me in that rancho, where they are
constantly on the lookout for treachery. Smirker believed that you
were White-horse Fred, and also that you were Fred Mortimer, and the
discovery he thought he had made alarmed him greatly. He breathed much
more freely after you had gone out, and so did I.
“For myself I should have felt no fears, had it not been for one thing.
I had with me a bag containing nuggets, dust and money, which I was to
deliver to Smirker; if he searched me and found that bag in my pocket,
he would know that I had deceived him—that I was the real White-horse
Fred—and my life wouldn’t be worth a moment’s purchase. I tried to
dispose of the bag, but he detected me in the act, and the result was
just what I expected. He called me a traitor, told me that my time had
come, and was on the very point of making his words good when Silas
appeared. He came down the secret passage-way that leads from the top
of the cliff, and arrived just in time.
“We tied Smirker, put him on a horse, and started to carry him to our
cave. As it was rather early—we make it a point never to go in and
out of the cellar during the day-time—we dismounted to wait until it
should grow dark. While we were sitting in our place of concealment,
Richard came down the ravine, and I knew that he was about to make
another attempt to capture you. I hurried down the mountain, reached
the cellar before him, held a short consultation with Juan, called
Romez out of the stable to assist us, and by the time Richard arrived
we had a nice little surprise in store for him. I poured a bucket of
water over my head—that was to make me look as if I had just come out
of the lake, you know—and Juan, who had on the same clothes he wore on
the night he was thrown over the cliff, made himself hideous by putting
a little red paint on his forehead. Romez perched himself upon the top
of the cellar wall with my dark-lantern in his hand, which, by the aid
of green cloth and a wide band of birch bark around the bull’s-eye, was
so arranged that it would reflect only a narrow streak of green light;
and when Richard came in Juan and I were walking across the cellar with
the light shining full in our faces. He had come prepared for just such
an emergency as this, and drawing his Derringers from his pocket, he
fired them both at Juan; but finding that the old fellow didn’t fall as
he expected he would, he threw down his weapons and took to his heels.
I’ve got them now,” added White-horse Fred, drawing the Derringers from
his boots. “I may have a chance to try them on Joe Hale to-night, and
if I do he’ll _drop_. There are bullets in them this time.”
“Were there no bullets in them before?”
“Not when they were fired at Juan. You see, Richard is too much of a
gentleman to do anything for himself that he can make another do for
him. He thinks Ithuriel, his servant, can be trusted to any extent,
but, as it happens, he is one of the best friends we have, and it
is through him that we have learned so much about Richard and his
doings. Richard told him to load his Derringers very carefully, adding
that he wanted them to shoot something that had appeared to him the
night before. Ithuriel, knowing very well what that something was,
charged the pistols heavily with powder, but put in no bullets. He
came straight down to Juan, and told him what he had done, and so when
Richard pointed his pistols at us, we were not afraid of them. I guess
now I have told—— Halloo! There he is. Come on, Julian.”
Fred, bringing his story to a sudden close, put spurs to his horse, and
dashed away at the top of his speed.