CLEARING UP A MYSTERY--CONCLUSION.
As Vorlange uttered his dire threat into Dick's ear, the boy turned pale
and staggered against the wall of his prison.
"Wot's that yer sayin'?" demanded Jack Rasco, who plainly saw the
changed look upon his companion's features.
"It is none of your business, Rasco," muttered the spy. "I told the boy;
that's enough."
Dick breathed hard. Part of that mystery of the past was out at last.
His father was accused of murder--Vorlange held the evidence against
him. Like a flash came back to him several things he had almost
forgotten. He remembered how on more than one occasion his father had
sent money to the West after a letter had come which had upset him
greatly. That must have been hush money, to keep this rascal quiet.
"I--I--do not believe you!" he cried in a faint tone. "My father is as
upright as any gentleman in the land."
"Is he?" sneered Vorlange. "All right, if you think so, just drive me to
the wall and see."
"Where was this crime committed?"
"In Creede, Colorado--at the time the camp was started."
"Who was killed?"
"A miner named Rickwell. He was once a partner of a man named Burch, of
whom you have no doubt heard ere this."
"Yes, Burch left us the property you know all about, since you stole the
deeds to it. Louis Vorlange, you are playing a deep part but you cannot
make me swallow your statements about my father."
"Do you want me to expose him?"
"We'll see about that later. Rasco and I will certainly try to show you
up for what you really are."
"Very well," blustered Vorlange. "Your father is a murderer, and he
shall swing for it--unless you keep your mouth shut. I----"
Footsteps outside of the prison interrupted Louis Vorlange. An instant
later Pawnee Brown and half a dozen others stepped inside of the
apartment.
"Pawnee Brown!" cried Dick and Rasco together.
"Are you a prisoner, too?" continued the boy.
"Hardly," smiled the great scout. Then he noticed Vorlange. "Just the
men we are after."
"Me?" ejaculated the spy.
"Yes, you."
"What do you want of me, Pawnee Brown? I want nothing to do with such as
you--a thieving, low-down boomer--who--oh!"
Vorlange ended with a yell, for Pawnee Brown had caught him by the ear
and almost jerked him off his feet.
"Let up! Let up! Oh!"
"Now keep quiet Vorlange," said the scout sternly. "You can thank your
stars that I didn't put a bullet through you for letting your tongue run
so loosely."
"Thet's so, b'gosh," was Rasco's comment. "But say, Pawnee, he's a
reg'lar snake in the grass."
"I know it." Pawnee Brown looked at Dick. "Has he been threatening you,
lad?"
"Yes; threatened me and my father, too."
"Have no fear of him, Dick. Louis Vorlange, you have about reached the
end of your rope."
"What do you mean?" and the spy's lips quivered as he spoke.
"I mean that I am here to expose you." Pawnee Brown turned to the others
who had come in. "Gentlemen, let me introduce to you Louis Vorlange,
alias Captain Mull, once of Creede, Colorado."
"Captain Mull!" exclaimed several. "Do you mean the Captain Mull that
was wanted for several shady doings, Pawnee?"
"The same Captain Mull, gentlemen."
"It is a--a lie!" screamed Louis Vorlange, but his looks belied him.
"It is the truth, gentlemen, he is the man who once sported under the
name of Captain Mull. But that is not all."
"What else, Pawnee?"
"Some years ago a man by the name of Andrew Rickwell was murdered in the
Last Chance hotel at Creede. At that time Creede was but a small place
and Captain Mull ran the hotel. Who murdered Rickwell was not
discovered. But he had occupied a room with another man, a mining agent
from New York named Mortimer Arbuckle, the father of this lad here, and
some thought Arbuckle had done the foul deed, and he had to run away to
escape the fury of a mob. The horror of this occurrence unbalanced the
man's mind and to this day he sometimes thinks he may be guilty. But he
is innocent."
"He is guilty!" shrieked Louis Vorlange. "I saw him do the deed!"
"I see you acknowledge you were in Creede at that time," answered Pawnee
Bill, and Vorlange staggered back over the bad break he had made. "As I
said, Mortimer Arbuckle is innocent. There is the murderer, and here are
the documents to prove it--and to prove more--that Vorlange is a thief,
that he assaulted Mortimer Arbuckle in the dark and left him for dead,
and that he is now acting against the best interests of the United
States government."
As Pawnee Brown ended he pointed at Vorlange, and held aloft the packet
he had taken from Yellow Elk.
"My father's documents!" cried Dick.
"The letters!" shrieked Louis Vorlange. Then he made a sudden leap to
secure them, but Pawnee Brown was too quick for him. The scout turned to
the captain of cavalry standing near.
"You had better arrest him before he tries to escape."
"They shall not arrest me!" came from Louis Vorlange's set lips. "Clear
the way!"
Like a flash his pistol came up and he fired into the crowd, which
parted in surprise and let him pass. But not more than ten steps were
covered when Pawnee Brown caught him by the arm and threw him headlong
to the ground. At the same time the prison sentry fired, and Vorlange
was mortally wounded in the side.
"I'll not forget you!" he cried to Pawnee Brown. "But for you I would
have lived in clover the balance of my life!" Then he fell into a faint
from which he recovered presently, to linger for several days in
terrible anguish, dying at last in convulsions.
With the death of Vorlange we bring our story to a close. By what was
said during the man's last hours on earth, Mortimer Arbuckle was
entirely cleared of the cloud which had hung over his honorable name.
Soon after this his right mind came back to him and to-day he is as well
and happy as it is possible to imagine.
Whatever became of Stillwater and Juan Donomez is not known.
With the truce declared by the actions of the authorities at Washington
and the word given by Pawnee Brown that no attempt should be made to
enter Oklahoma for the present, it was not deemed advisable to hold
either Dick or Rasco longer, and the two were given their freedom, to
journey at once to Honnewell, in company with the great scout and Nellie
Winthrop.
From Honnewell, Dick rode post haste to carry the glad news to his
father. A scene followed which no pen can describe, a scene so sacred to
the two it must be left entirely to the imagination of the reader. Never
was a man more proud of his son than was Mortimer Arbuckle of Dick, or
more grateful than was the mine-owner to Pawnee Brown for his courageous
and marvelous work in clearing up the mystery.
"He is a man among men," he said. "God bless him!"
Nellie Winthrop was overjoyed to be with her uncle once again, and took
good care that nothing should separate them. As for Jack, he guarded her
with a care which could not be exceeded.
"Ef they carry her off again it will be over my dead body, b'gosh," he
murmured more than once.
And yet Nellie was carried off four years later. But this time the
carrying off was done by Dick Arbuckle, and both Nellie and Jack were
perfectly willing. The wedding was a grand one, for the Colorado claims
had panned out big for the Arbuckles, and the best man at the affair was
Pawnee Brown.
In due course of time the bill concerning Oklahoma was passed by the
United States Senate and signed by the President. This was followed by a
grand rush of the boomers to get the best of the land granted to them.
The advance was led by Pawnee Brown, who, riding his ever faithful
Bonnie Bird, covered twenty miles in the short space of sixty-five
minutes and located his town site at the mouth of Big Turkey Creek. This
town site, along with his other Oklahoma possessions, made the great
scout a rich man. He never grows weary of telling about this great rush
into Oklahoma. "It was grand, awe-inspiring," he says. "I would go a
thousand miles to see it again--those hundreds of wagons, thousands of
horsemen and heads of cattle, all going southward, over hills, through
forests, crossing brooks and rivers--all bound for the land which has
since made them so prosperous and happy."
And here let us take leave of Dick Arbuckle, Pawnee Brown, and all their
friends, wishing them well.