A ROBBER TURNED LOOSE
As Jack rounded a low point of hill only half a mile from the house, he
saw the buildings again. The sun was getting low, and he decided that
he would put the animals in Powell's pasture and ask Mrs. Powell to
keep him over night at the house. He wondered if she would know him,
for since she had last seen him he had grown, as it seemed to him, a
foot or two. As he came in sight of the house he noticed, hitched to
the fence near the door, two riding horses and a loaded pack horse.
Evidently there were visitors at the house. They were travelers, not
cow punchers, for the pack animal carried a sawbuck pack-saddle and a
very small pack.
These thoughts had just passed through Jack's head, when to his
amazement he heard a shot which seemed to come from the house, and an
instant later the door flew open and a man burst out, rushed to the
horses, jumped on one of them and galloped fast down the road toward
him. Jack could not conceive what this meant--shooting in Powell's
house. He did not know the man who was approaching. He was young,
fair-haired, rode like one accustomed to the saddle, and had a good
horse, though it looked as though it had gone a long way. The rider
was coming directly toward him, and, as he rode, he looked back at the
house two or three times, as though fearing pursuit.
Jack did not know what all this meant, and yet one thing seemed
certain--he must stop this man and find out what he had been doing.
Yet to stop a man on the road he knew was pretty serious business,
and might very likely lead to shooting. He had traveled enough on the
prairie and had associated enough with older men to be cautious about
getting into trouble; but here was a case where trouble seemed to be
coming toward him so straight that he could not avoid it. For the first
two or three moments the rider seemed not to notice Jack, but when he
did so, he checked the speed of his horse, and looked uncertainly to
right and left, as though seeking some way of escape. By this time
Jack had stuck his spurs into Pawnee, and was riding fast toward the
approaching man. He had his hand on his six-shooter, ready to draw
it at the least sign of trouble. As they drew near to each other the
young man made a motion as if to put his hand on his pistol butt, but
Jack called to him sharply, "Hands up!" and drew his pistol. The young
fellow's hands flew up in the air, while he stopped his horse. Jack
rode around and coming up behind him on the right side, still holding
his pistol ready, reached over and took the young man's gun out of his
holster, and then ordered him sharply to turn around and ride in front
of him toward the house. He watched him closely, for it was possible
that somewhere about his person the man might have another pistol, but
the young fellow seemed to have no desire to do anything save what he
was told. His nerve had wholly left him.
They trotted up to the door of the ranch, and Jack called out for Mr.
Powell, Charley and Mrs. Powell, and a moment later a tall, handsome,
brown-haired girl appeared at the door, holding a six-shooter in her
hand. Jack instantly recognized her as his old friend Bessie, but
Bessie grown out of all likeness to the slim-legged little girl that he
had known half a dozen years before.
"Hello, Bessie!" called Jack. "You don't know me, I guess, but I am
Jack Danvers, just over from Mr. Sturgis' ranch. I heard a shot and
saw this man running away from the house, and stopped him. What has
happened? Do you want him, or shall I let him go?"
"I don't know, Jack," Bessie answered; "we'll have to think about that.
He ought to be tied up for a while anyhow, until we can tell you what
has happened, and can decide what to do."
"Well," said Jack, "the first thing is to take his weapons if he has
any. Here is the six-shooter he had when I stopped him. Will you hold
it, and keep an eye on him while I search him? You used to be able to
shoot when you were a little girl."
"I guess you will think I can yet, Jack," said Bessie. Jack now noticed
that she looked very white. "That man's partner is in here, and we will
have to do something with him."
Jack said nothing, but dismounted, went to the young rider, unbuckled
and took off his belt and felt him all over to see whether he had
another pistol. Nothing was found on him more dangerous than a
pocket-knife, which Jack took. He had the young man dismount and sit
down on the ground, and asked Bessie to stand guard over him. Then with
a rope taken off one of the horses he tied the man's hands and feet
securely, and passing the rope from his wrists, which were tied behind
his back, over a bar of the fence four feet from the ground, drew up
the hands so as to keep the man's body bent forward, and to give him
very little freedom of motion. Then he tied the horses to the fence and
went to the door where Bessie stood.
"Tell me all about it now, Bessie," he said.
"No, Jack, I can't talk now," she replied. "Go in and speak to mother,
and talk it over with her."
He passed through the kitchen and into the living-room, and the first
thing that caught his eye there was a man lying on the floor, on his
back, with one arm stretched out. Stepping up to him, Jack saw that he
was dead, and apparently he had been moved a little, for on the boards
was a smear of blood, leading to the man's body, which seemed to show
that an effort had been made to drag him toward the door. Mrs. Powell
was not there, but when Jack called her by name she opened a bedroom
door and came out. Jack began to tell her who he was, but she knew him
at once, and grasping both his hands began to cry and to tell him how
glad she was to see him.
"Don't cry, Mrs. Powell," said Jack. "Tell me what all this is about,
for of course I don't understand it at all. I heard a shot, and met a
man riding hard away from the house. I stopped him and brought him back
and now he is outside tied up, with Bessie watching him."
"Oh, Jack!" moaned Mrs. Powell, "to think that anything like this
could happen in this country! We have plenty of bad men here, but I
never thought that any of them would be bad enough to attack a woman;
and I never supposed that Bessie would have to kill one." The poor
woman had great difficulty in speaking, and it was hard for Jack to
understand what she was talking about; but some ideas he got. He patted
her shoulder and told her that the trouble was all over now, and she
need not worry about it, and that he would look after everything, if
she would only tell him the whole story so that he could understand it.
Then Mrs. Powell told him what had happened.
"Well, well," declared Jack, "this is certainly bad business--that
anybody in this country should start in and rob women and children.
However, it is mighty lucky that Bessie is so quick with her wits, and
so quick with her gun. Now what shall we do with this man's partner?"
Mrs. Powell began to cry again.
"Dear me! dear me! I don't know what to say to you, Jack. If our men
come back and find him here, he surely will never get off the place;
they'll hang him on the gate-post; and I don't want that to happen.
We've had trouble enough with this dead man here, and I don't want
Charley or his father to get mixed up in any lynching."
"Well, Mrs. Powell," Jack replied, "this young fellow ought to be
killed and killed quick. He surely has no business in this country. But
I can understand how you feel. It wouldn't be very pleasant for you to
have him hung right in your dooryard, as you might say. Let me go out
and talk to Bessie, and see what she thinks. I have an idea from the
way she looks and from what you tell me that she has pretty good sense;
but first, it seems to me, we ought to get rid of this carcass here.
I'll open the front door and drag him out."
Jack opened the door, and then going back to where the man lay, and
moving the furniture out of the way, took him by the two wrists and
dragged him out of the door and left the body lying on the ground.
Going back to the kitchen door, he saw Bessie leaning against the fence
watching the young man who was seated on the ground, and who apparently
had not changed his position since he was tied up.
"Come over here, Bessie," Jack requested, and she walked with him to a
place fifteen or twenty yards from the young man, and there in a low
voice they talked over the situation. Jack told her that her mother had
explained what had happened, and of Mrs. Powell's fear lest some of the
people now off on the round-up should come back and find the prisoner
at the house, and should hang him without ceremony.
"That is what I am afraid of, Jack. I want to have this thing ended
now, as quickly as possible. It seems terrible that I should have had
to kill that man; but I didn't know what else I could do to protect
mother, and nobody knows where he would have stopped if something had
not been done."
"Well," suggested Jack, "what's the matter with giving this young man
his horse, or horses, and turning him loose now without any weapons?"
"I wish with all my heart you would do that. It seems to me that is
the easiest way, and the best way, and it will certainly keep out of
trouble any of the boys that may turn up here in the next few days."
"All right," said Jack, "we'll do that. But first I've got to use him
for a little while, and you must come along too, I am afraid, to stand
guard over him."
"I'll do anything I can that you say is right," agreed Bessie.
Jack went over to the prisoner, and untying the ropes turned him loose.
"Now, young fellow," Jack said, "rub your arms and wrists and get the
stiffness out of them, and then come down to the barn and help me hitch
up a wagon."
They went to the barn and found there a couple of work horses, and
harnessing them, hitched them to the wagon, into which they threw a
pick and a couple of shovels. Driving up to the house, they stopped by
the body of the man who had been shot, and lifted it into the wagon,
covering it with a piece of an old tent. They then drove off up a
ravine a mile or more from the house, where they stopped the wagon;
and here in the side of a bank the two men dug a hole, and buried
the would-be robber. Jack searched his pockets for some means of
identification, but found in them nothing except a pipe, some tobacco,
matches and a pocket-knife. His belt and cartridges were taken off to
be carried back to the house.
The sun was close to the western horizon when they reached the house
again. Jack left the young man unhitching the horses, and Bess watching
him, while he returned to the house to tell Mrs. Powell what they had
decided to do, and to ask her approval.
"That is the very best thing that can be done," she said. "Start him
off for the railroad, and try to see that he gets there."
"I mean to ride with him for a mile or two," said Jack; "and I shall
say to him that to-morrow morning I am going over to the round-up camp
to tell them there what has happened, and that there is likely to be a
hunt for him, and he had better quit the country as fast as he knows
how."
"Good!" approved Mrs. Powell. "Ride with him over to the big hill, and
from there watch him as far as you can, and then come back. We'll have
supper ready by dark and we'll look for you then."
"All right," replied Jack. "Before I go, though, I'll turn my horses
into the pasture, if you will let me, and take my bed off the pack
horse."
It took scarcely five minutes to do this, for the hungry horses were
still feeding close to the house. Then Jack went to the young man,
who had returned to the place where he had been tied, and had seated
himself on the ground there.
"You've got yourself into a place that will mean hanging for you, if
you don't get out of the country quick," said Jack. "I am going to give
you a chance for your life, and let you get to the railroad, where
maybe you can strike a freight, or a passenger-train, that will take
you away. If any of the people that belong in this part of the country
come back and hear what you and your partner have done, they will start
out and hunt you as long as they can find your tracks, and if they get
hold of you, you'll swing. Who was this man that you came down here
with, and where did you come from?"
"I don't know what his name was," answered the young man, "but up there
we called him Bill Davis. We came down from just south of Buffalo.
Davis had a little place up there with a few head of cattle and horses
on it, but the stockmen thought he was branding too many calves, and
they told him that he would have to get out of the country. When he
saw they meant it, he came to me, for I had been living on a little
place I had taken up not far from him, and said that he had to get out,
and proposed to me to go somewhere and make a stake, and come back
with something to put on our places. He persuaded me, and I went with
him. I never knew he was going to try to rob these people here; they
treated us awful white; but he said to me that if I didn't come with
him to speak to the women, he and I would quarrel. I wish I had never
seen him! I never got into trouble like this before. You can see for
yourself that I ain't bad. Didn't I give up just as soon as you told me
to?" The young man whimpered and looked as if he were going to cry.
"Well," admitted Jack, "you don't look to me like a fellow who would
willingly be mixed up in robbing women and children, and I am going to
let you go; but if I do, you've got to get out of the country quick,
for if the men around here find you, they won't stop to talk to you,
the way I have. The best thing for you to do is to ride into the
railroad and get on a train and get out of reach as quickly as you can.
Have you any money?"
"Yes, I have a five-dollar bill and some nickels."
"What about these horses? Who owns them?" asked Jack.
"One saddle horse and the pack horse belonged to Bill; and the horse I
ride is mine, and so is the saddle."
"Well," said Jack, "you'd better get on your horse now and pull your
freight for the railroad as quick as you can. I expect your horse isn't
in very good shape to make the ride, and maybe I'd better lend you one
of mine to go in with. Do you know anybody at the railroad that would
buy your horse and saddle?"
"Nary a person," was the answer. "I have never been down here before.
The only thing that I can do is to leave the horse and saddle in town
at some livery stable, or else turn him loose on the range."
"I will tell you what I'll do," said Jack; "if you want to sell that
saddle for twenty dollars, I will buy it from you, and give you five
dollars on account. You can leave it with Brown, at Medicine Bow, and
if I hear that you have done so, and you will write to me, I will
send you the fifteen dollars by mail. I think I'll keep Davis' horses
and saddle here until somebody calls for them, and maybe your horse.
You can take one of my string to ride into the railroad, and when you
get there with it, either leave it at Brown's, or turn it loose on
the range. It will come back to our ranch sooner or later. Now go and
change your saddle to that gray horse you see feeding out there, just
inside the pasture gate. I'll ride with you a little way."
The boy went over to his horse and mounted and Jack followed on Pawnee.
In a moment a rope was on the gray, the saddles were changed and the
two young men rode off in the direction of the railroad.
When they reached the top of the hill a couple of miles from the ranch,
Jack pointed out to the man the way he should go to strike the main
road leading into the town, and told him to go ahead. The young man
hesitated for a moment.
"I don't rightly know how to thank you for turning me loose in this
way," he said. "I swear that I never had any idea of hurting those two
women, and I hope some day I'll be able to make you believe that. Will
you tell me how I may call you?"
"I am Jack Danvers; and you can always reach me by writing to the Swift
Water Ranch, near Carbon. If you write me, I'll send you the fifteen
dollars. What is your name?"
"I'm Sam Williams, I'm from Michigan; and I wish't I was back there
now. Have you got a piece of paper? I'd like to have your address
written down, so that I'll remember it."
Jack tore a scrap from an old envelope in his pocket, and writing the
address, handed it over to the young man.
"Good-by, and thank you again," the latter said; and turning his
horse's head rode to the south.
The sun had set, and it would soon be too dark to see far, but Jack
drew back from the crest of the hill and, riding around a short
distance, dismounted. Walking up, he peered over the ridge and watched
the horseman, riding fast, until dusk had fairly settled down over the
valley. Then turning, he mounted Pawnee, and in a short time was at the
Powell's barn, where he unsaddled and turned his horse into the hay
corral.