THE BANK OF SILVER BOW IS ROBBED
"It must have rained here since we left," observed Toady, as they drew
near the town.
"Why?" asked Irene curiously.
"'Cause there's a puddle of water in that hollow rock and unless it had
rained, how would it get there?"
"By Jove, the lad is right," muttered Decker Simmons to himself.
"Queer we didn't get any at the canyon, though. Wonder what's the
trouble ahead. Town seems excited. Do you suppose the new postmaster
has embezzled his funds already?"
"Uncle Decker," Tabitha's voice interrupted his meditations.
"Yes?"
"Something must have happened in town while we were gone."
"Why?"
"Main street is full of people and the bank platform is black with
them. Do you suppose there is another run on the bank, or can it have
failed?"
"Why, so 'tis!" ejaculated the man, noting for the first time what
Tabitha's keen eyes had seen,--that the greater crowd of the people
were gathered in front of the Silver Bow Bank. "Wonder what's up."
"Hello, Simmons," called Dawley, the grocer, from his position in the
doorway of his store. "You don't look as if you'd heard the news."
"No. Let's have it." The whole party halted and waited curiously.
"Bank robbed."
"You don't say so! When?"
"Saturday night."
"Get much?"
"Don't know yet, but reckon 'twas only a few hundred. Brinkley lost a
lot of provisions, too, but fortunately his safe was empty."
"Well, I declare! Any clue?"
"Not so far. Rain wiped out all tracks that might have been made. Had
a corker of a thunderstorm that night."
"Well, well! Now what do you think of that! What steps are you taking
toward the capture of the thieves?"
"Posse out scouring the desert."
"Humph!"
"Well, what else can we do without clues?"
"_Find_ some clues. You'll never catch the rascals by scouring the
desert with a handful of men. They must have gone into camp close by,
or they would never have stocked up. Bet they are new at the business.
_Must_ be to make a mistake like that. I'd laugh if they had never
left town." And gathering up the reins, he drove on, followed by the
cavalcade of burros.
The children were greatly excited. Burglaries in that lonely little
desert town were unheard of, and this novel experience furnished food
for their lively imaginations to feed upon. Tabitha was particularly
impressed, for never before in her short life had a robbery occurred so
near home, and she could think of little else. A reward of two hundred
dollars had been offered for the capture of the thieves, and as soon as
the little brood in the Eagles' Nest heard of this, they began to amuse
themselves by telling how they would spend the money if by chance they
could win the reward.
"I'd buy me a pony," said Toady, as they sat on the shady side of the
house discussing the all-absorbing topic. "Ma said she never should
get us another after Spotty kicked her when she struck it with the
whip."
"I'd save it towards a motorcycle," declared Billiard boastfully. "No
ponies for mine! With another hundred I could get a dandy machine, and
then wouldn't you see me spinning about the country just as I pleased!"
"It would almost pay for another term at Ivy Hall," sighed Mercedes,
who, though she never mentioned the matter, knew that the family purse
was too flat to permit of her returning to her beloved school with the
coming of September.
"I'd buy a little house in Los Angeles and go there to live," said
Irene. "It must be pretty where there are real trees and flowers the
year around."
"It's not your turn," Susie objected. "I'd buy--I'd buy--what _would_
I buy? There are so many things I want, but I b'lieve I'd go
travelling. Two hundred dollars would take me quite a piece, and I'd
see lots of big cities."
"And I'd go along," breathed Inez in ecstasy, "and we'd beat our way
back on freight cars."
"Ho! That wouldn't be any fun," scoffed Rosslyn. "I'd buy candy, 'n'
ice-cream, 'n' peanuts, 'n' popcorn."
"And a doctor," laughed Mercedes.
There was a pause, and seven pair of eyes turned expectantly toward
Gloriana, who, perceiving the look, said shyly, "There are probably
heaps of things I'd like to get for myself now and then, but I think
the most of my two hundred would go to Granny Conover for taking care
of me all those years. I'd like to see her have plenty of money to do
as she pleased with before she dies."
"Wouldn't that be splendid?" cried the children, who were never tired
of hearing the pitiful tale of Gloriana's life.
"Now, Tabitha," suggested Billiard. "Why, where _is_ Tabitha?"
"Gone to put Janie to bed, I guess," said Toady, seeing that the
youngest member of the family was also missing. "It's her nap time."
But in reality, Tabitha was far down the mountainside, speeding like a
deer in pursuit of a tiny, white-clad figure toddling in and out among
the sagebrush and greasewood toward a forbidden playground, where,
half-hidden by rocks and rubbish, were several unprotected prospect
holes, mysterious and alluring to the investigative baby eyes. Even as
Tabitha came within calling distance of the child, Janie discovered
that she was being pursued, and quickened her steps into a run,
heedless of the path she was taking, until with a shrill cry of fright,
she slipped over the brink of one of the very holes she had stolen away
to visit, and disappeared from sight.
"O, God, don't let her be killed!" prayed the black-eyed girl, and her
feet fairly flew over the uneven ground, till she, too, reached the
edge of the deep excavation. But before she could discover the plight
of the runaway, she felt the ground give way beneath her feet, and
echoing Janie's cry of alarm, she, too, shot out of sight.
Fortunately, however, little sand fell with her, and as by a miracle,
she landed free and clear of the frightened, sobbing, but unhurt figure
crouching in the opposite corner.
Scrambling to her feet, she seized the scared baby in her arms,
exclaiming over and over again, "Janie, Janie, are you sure you aren't
killed?" till at length she had soothed the child's fright and had
coaxed her into laughing again. "Now, Miss Mischief," she cried,
setting the baby down and beginning to investigate their prison, "we
must find some way out of this place. 'Tisn't very deep, to be sure;
but the sides seem pretty crumbly, so I don't dare to climb out. I
reckon we'll have to shout. Help, help, help!"
They screamed themselves hoarse, but no one came to answer their call,
and Janie began to wail dismally, for the minutes seemed like hours to
her, and she was tired and cross. "Never mind, honey," Tabitha
comforted. "If they don't find us around the house by supper time,
they will know something has gone wrong and send General to find us.
Now let's amuse ourselves for a while, and then we'll shout again.
Here is a stick. See if you can dig a deeper hole than I can. Why,
what's this?"
Stooping over to pick up a fragment of redwood bark at her feet, she
uncovered a small bag, which rattled as she touched it; and as she
untied the drawstring, a shower of glittering gold pieces fell into her
lap.
"Pennies!" cried Janie, making a dive for a share of the shining coins.
"Yes, dear, gold pennies, but Janie mustn't touch," answered Tabitha,
busily sorting the money into various piles according to its
denomination. "It doesn't belong to us, and we must take it to the--
Say, Janie McKittrick, what will you bet this isn't the money stolen
from the bank Saturday night? Mr. Dawley said they got only a few
hundred. Let's count it. One, two, three, four, five hundred dollars.
Janie, that's just what we've found! The robbers didn't dare take it
with them, and so hid it here, thinking it would be absolutely safe."
"Well, Tabitha Catt! Of all things! Look, girls, she's as calm and
cool as if she had gone on a picnic, instead of tumbling into a
prospect hole."
So intent had the two prisoners become in their find that neither had
heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and as breathless Susie's
voice rang out above their heads, both started guiltily.
"Why, how did you know where to look for us?" cried Tabitha, bouncing
to her feet, and slipping the bag out of sight, lest the children see
and ask questions.
"Well, when we couldn't find you about the house anywhere, Glory
remembered that Janie had slipped off down the trail while we were
talking, and so we decided that you must have chased her. Then Mercy
happened to think of these holes. Janie is always possessed to play
down here, and has run away three times before; so we came down to
look, and here you are in the very first one," explained Susie.
"You hauled us out of the abandoned mine one day, and now we are going
to fish you out of a prospect hole," exulted Billiard, much relieved to
find the two girls unhurt, but unable to resist crowing a little over
their mishap.
"How?" asked Tabitha, a frown of anxiety gathering in her forehead.
"Don't get too near the edge there, or some of you may join us in our
retreat. You must go for help. You can't get us out all alone."
"Mercy has gone for the assayer," began Inez.
"And here he is now," Billiard interrupted. "He has got a long board
and a rope. Stand back, Irene, so you won't be in the way. There,
now, Tabby, tie up the baby, and we'll lift her out first."
In a surprisingly short time, both girls were hoisted from the sultry
pit and landed laughing gaily among their mates.
"Well," said the assayer, shaking his gray head in a puzzled fashion,
"I don't understand how you kids work the stunt."
"What stunt?" they all inquired.
"Why, tumbling into every hole you come across and not getting hurt.
You aren't hurt, are you?"
"No, indeed!"
"And Kitty finded a whole sack full of gold pennies down there, but her
won't div Janie any," volunteered the baby quite unexpectedly.
"She--what?"
"Gold pennies!"
"What does she mean?"
The children lifted questioning eyes to Tabitha's crimson face, and
even the assayer looked down at her curiously. She had not meant to
let the children know about the money; at least, not until she had
consulted older and wiser heads than theirs; but now that Janie had
betrayed her secret, she displayed her find, and explained how it had
come into her possession.
The assayer's eyes grew thoughtful, as he examined each coin minutely,
and counted the treasure, to make sure that Tabitha's figures were
right. "What shall you do with it?" he finally asked, as he dropped
the last piece into the sack and returned it to Tabitha.
"Take it to the bank. I thought it might be part of the money the
robbers got."
He glanced at her quickly, keenly; then answered, "That's the thing to
do, all right, and I don't believe your surmise is far off, either.
But see here, children, don't you dare lisp a word to a single soul
about this money until we know for certain whose it is."
"We won't," hastily promised the wondering, round-eyed flock, for they
stood much in awe of the silent, almost taciturn man who worked wonders
with the rock which the miners brought him; and the little company set
out for home, leaving Tabitha and the assayer to carry the precious
find over to the bank.
"Do you know," said Gloriana, as the black-eyed girl finished relating
the afternoon's happenings to her, "I half believe that man snooping
around the pesthouse is the robber."
"What man?" demanded the startled Tabitha.
"Well, I don't know who he is, but it is someone I've never seen here
in town. He was there this morning, but I didn't think much about it
then. We were so excited over the robbery. But this afternoon while
the assayer was dragging you out of the prospect hole, and I was
watching through your field glasses, I happened to turn them in the
direction of the pesthouse, and there he was again, humped up on the
doorsill, watching through glasses of his own. When you started off
toward town, he hustled into the house and shut the door. Now, it
seems to me no one would stay in a _pesthouse_ unless he was hiding
from someone."
"No one ever had smallpox there."
"Then why does everyone avoid it so?"
"I don't know. The name, I reckon. It was built for a pesthouse, but
the doctors decided the patient didn't have smallpox after all, so the
building has never been used."
"Then perhaps he knows there is nothing to be afraid of in the house."
"That may be, of course. Is he there yet?"
"Yes, I think he is. I've kept a close lookout ever since I discovered
him, and I haven't seen him leave."
Tabitha seemed lost in thought a moment, then turned an eager face
toward her companion. "Gloriana, the reward!"
"Could we?"
"Can't tell till we try!"
"But how----"
"There are only two small windows in the house,--funny, isn't it, when
air is so necessary in case of sickness,--he can't get out of them. So
all we have to do is guard the door."
"But how shall we get him to the--police?"
"Sheriff? I hadn't thought of that part. We couldn't tie him up and
march him to jail,--we aren't strong enough, just us girls. We'll have
to make sure he is there, lock him in, and then while one of us guards
the door, the other must go for help."
Gloriana shuddered. She hoped it would not fall to her lot to guard
the door, and yet she could not bear to think of Tabitha's staying
there alone with only a flimsy structure between her and a desperate
character.
"I--we--had we better try it alone?" she asked timidly. "Wouldn't it
be wiser to tell the assayer and get him to help?"
"The more people there are connected with his capture, the smaller our
share of the reward will be. We can do it all right."
Tabitha's daring swept away her objections. "That's so," she answered.
"Well, we better not wait any longer then, or perhaps he will get away
yet."
"I'm ready," Tabitha replied promptly, and with quaking hearts but
determined steps the two set out, armed with a stout stick and the
rusty old pistol which Gloriana had used the night the boys had played
burglar.
"What is that broom handle for?" questioned the red-haired girl,
wondering if she would be expected to crack the desperado over the head
with it.
"To lock the door with."
"_Lock the door_?" Could Tabitha have gone suddenly crazy?
"Yes. It's the only way we can fasten him in. The door has an iron
handle on the outside, instead of a knob, you see."
"Oh!"
"Is that the man?" The door of the pesthouse had opened abruptly and a
short, portly man roughly dressed, unshaved and florid of complexion,
appeared on the threshold a moment, eyed the approaching girls
indifferently, glanced searchingly toward town, and again vanished
within, closing the door behind him. Gloriana's heart seemed to stop
beating, then pounded so loudly that it sounded to her like the pulsing
of the engines in the Silver Legion Mine. "Yes," she gasped.
"Then we've got him!" Scared but exultant, Tabitha leaped to the door,
thrust her stick through the handle, and cocked her revolver, just as
the man, hearing the noise outside, grasped the knob and tried to open
the door.
"What the deuce!" they heard him exclaim, and then he wrenched again.
"Who's out there, and what do you want?" he bellowed in rage, when the
door refused to budge.
"You're our prisoner," Tabitha answered boldly, though trembling like a
leaf with nervous dread; "and you might just as well keep quiet as to
make a fuss. Glory, hurry for the sheriff, the assayer--anyone! He's
desperate!"
And indeed he sounded desperate as he kicked and banged the door,
shouted and swore, tearing about his small prison like a madman, and
breathing threats of vengeance against his jailer, who stood pale but
undaunted in front of the door, with a cocked revolver clinched tightly
in both hands, waiting anxiously for the return of Gloriana with help
from town, and thanking her lucky stars that neither of the small
windows was on the door side of the house.
Then suddenly the tumult ceased within, and terrified Tabitha began to
take courage again. "He has decided to behave himself at last," she
thought. "It's the only sensible thing to do, for he can't get away
from here now without being caught. There comes Glory at last, but oh,
gracious! look at the crowd following her. Half the town is out."
Just then a subdued grunt from around the corner of the house caught
her attention, and beckoning wildly to the approaching throng, she
crept cautiously forward to investigate, but paused again, paralyzed at
the sight which met her eyes. The portly prisoner had attempted to
escape by means of one of the small windows, and now hung suspended by
the middle over the sill, his hands clawing the air helplessly inside,
and his heels waving frantically without. At another time, Tabitha,
would have shouted with laughter at the ridiculous figure he cut, but
now her only thought was to prevent his escaping, and flinging aside
her pistol, she plunged toward the body seesawing through the air, and
clutched the feet with a determined grip, while the helpless victim
protested in emphatic language.
Thus the crowd found them and went wild with delight at the spectacle,
much to the discomfiture of both captor and captive, and when at length
the florid prisoner was freed from his uncomfortable position, his face
was purple with rage and exertion. "What is the meaning of this
outrage?" he exploded as soon as he could find sufficient breath to
voice his indignation. "Who put you up to such a trick as that, you
young minx? Do you know who I am?"
"Why, Jerry Weller!" exclaimed an astonished voice from the interested
throng of onlookers. "What are you doing here?"
"I bought this old shack and was to have had it moved onto my claims
to-day, if the movers had showed up," exclaimed the irate man, his
voice thick with anger. "But along come these jades and fasten me
in----"
"We thought he was the bank robber," Tabitha murmured faintly, sick at
heart over the mistake. "He was acting so--so suspiciously."
"Bank robber!" echoed the speaker from the crowd. "Why, Jeremiah
Weller is owner of the biggest placer mines in the country. He made a
fortune in Alaska. He's a millionaire! Bank robber! Ha--ha! That's
rich!"
The crowd roared appreciatively, but the victim of the mistake quite
unexpectedly lost his glowering look, and gruffly declared, "Well, you
needn't laugh at her. She's pluck to the backbone. Show me another
girl who would have undertook to corral a bank robber as she did. I
don't wonder she thought that was my occupation. I certainly look
rough enough--" Suddenly his roving eyes fell upon the timid,
shrinking Gloriana, so depressed at the way matters had turned out that
she could scarcely keep back the scalding tears. If it had not been
for her, Tabitha would never have gone on such a wild-goose chase. Why
hadn't she kept her suspicions to herself?
"What's your name?" demanded the stranger so abruptly that he seemed
positively rude.
"Gloriana Holliday," she managed to articulate.
"Did you ever have an Uncle Jerry?"
"If I did, he never came near us that I can remember," she candidly
replied.
The purple of his face deepened. "That's right, too," he muttered.
"But your mother ran away to get married."
"And her folks told her never to let them see her face again,"
supplemented Gloriana bitterly.
"Was her name Weller at one time? But of course it was. There
couldn't be two people on earth look as much alike as she and you
unless they were mother and daughter; and besides, she married a
Holliday,--Jack Holliday."
Gloriana nodded.
"Then, my girl, I'm your Uncle Jerry, and if you didn't catch
your bank robber, you made a pretty good haul anyway. Your
mother--she--she's--dead, isn't she? And your father? You're an
orphan----"
"She's not any longer!" Tabitha broke in savagely. "We've adopted her
and she's my sister."
"Oh! Well, that simplifies matters, too, for I'm a bachelor and have
no _home_ to offer, but-- Say, I want to talk with you. Where's your
adopted father? Not in town now? Well, isn't there some place we can
go where we won't be gawked at by all these hoodlums? Bring your
black-haired sister,--my jailer. I certainly do admire pluck."
At this broad hint, the curious crowd reluctantly withdrew, and left
the trio alone at the pesthouse threshold. Standing there bare-headed
with the waning sunlight glinting through the heavy, red locks,
Gloriana told what she could remember of the pitiful struggle of her
parents, their deaths, and her unhappy lot until the scholarship at Ivy
Hall had opened the way to better things.
So affected was the bluff stranger by the sad tale that he made no
effort to check the tears which filled his eyes and rolled down his
cheeks. "Well, the past is passed," he said when the story was done,
"and we can't do anything now to change it. I've been downright sorry
at the way we treated your mother, but she effaced herself pretty well.
We never got a trace of her whereabouts, though years afterwards we
heard that she was dead. We never knew there was a child, but never
mind, you shall not want again as long as I live. Being a rover and
unmarried, I have no home to offer, as I said before; so I am glad to
find you settled with such good friends. But I've got all kinds of
money, and insist upon paying for your education from now on. Here's a
check for pin money."
Drawing a check-book from his pocket, he rapidly scribbled a few lines,
tore out the slip and handed it to Gloriana. Mechanically she took it,
and her gray eyes grew round with wonder as she read. "One hundred
dollars! Oh, you must have made a mistake, Mr.----"
"Uncle Jerry," he corrected her.
"Uncle Jerry," she dutifully repeated.
"Not a bit of it! And what's more, there will be one of those ready
for you every quarter."
"Oh, that's too much!" she protested. "Whatever would a girl do with
four hundred dollars a year spending money?" The sum appalled her, and
well it might, for never before had she possessed more than five
dollars at one time.
He laughed at her dismay. "Why, I often spend that much in a day. You
can lay in a stock of jimcracks like the other girls have. You'll find
plenty of ways to dispose of every cent, I know."
"Maybe," she half whispered. "You see, I never had so much as a dollar
all my own that I can remember until I came to live with Tabitha, but
perhaps when I get used to knowing it's really mine and--genuine, I'll
find ways to spend it. I--I thank you. It's nice to have an Uncle
Jerry."
"It's nice to have a Niece Gloriana, too," he answered gruffly,
clearing his throat with much gusto; and as there seemed to be nothing
further to say, the trio turned from the lonely pesthouse, and silently
climbed the hill toward town.