DAN TURNS THE TABLES.
To the boys at the ranch the days passed impatiently enough. But few
settlers came that way, so that they were cut off almost entirely from
communication with the outside world.
The puma skin had been brought in and cared for, and now they turned
their attention to getting ready for the winter, which was close at
hand.
One day, unable to stand it longer, Dan rode down to Gonzales for the
news. He found the town bubbling over with joy because of the victory
at Concepcion.
"They can't stand up against our men," said the storekeeper who was
talking to Dan. "The Texans are brave and nearly all good shots, and
they are fighting for their homes. The greasers, on the other hand, are
lazy and unreliable, paid to do what they are doing, and consequently
think of nothing but saving their own skin."
"Oh, I reckon some of them are patriotic enough," answered Dan. "But
they are in the minority."
"How can they be patriotic, and follow such a man as Santa Anna, who is
continually leading all Mexico by the nose? No, they are doing it for
the pay, and nothing else."
At the post-office Dan found a brief letter from his father, stating
that he was well, and that if no more fighting came off in the near
future he would come home on a short visit. So far there had been no
regular enlistments in the Texan army, and volunteers came and went
pretty much as they pleased.
From the storekeeper Dan learned that several bands of Indians had been
seen in the vicinity, moving to the west and north. Some were
Comanches, and others friendly Caddos.
"Well, I don't mind the Caddos," thought the boy, "but I don't want to
fall in with any more Comanches."
He had thought to go home that afternoon, or evening, as it is called
in Texas, but, after learning about the Indians, resolved to remain in
Gonzales all night and make the journey the first thing in the morning.
On the outskirts of Gonzales was the farm belonging to Henry Parker's
father, and thither he went, satisfied that he would be sure of a warm
welcome. He found Henry at home, and also Mrs. Parker, Mr. Parker being
away on business.
"Why, of course you must stay," said Mrs. Parker. "I am glad to have
company."
The balance of the day passed pleasantly, and after supper the young
man and Dan took a stroll up into the town to learn if any later news
had come in.
They had just gained the main street of the town when Dan saw before
him a figure that looked familiar. He quickened his pace, and soon
ranged up alongside of the man, who proved to be the half-breed, Hank
Stiger.
Stiger was partly under the influence of liquor, or otherwise he would
not have shown himself in Gonzales at that time, when the Indian raid
was still fresh in the settlers' minds. He glared angrily at Dan when
he saw the boy.
"Stiger, I want to have a talk with you," said Dan, with more firmness
than is usual in one of his age.
"What you want now?" demanded the half-breed.
"I want to know what you have done with my father's papers."
"What papers do you mean?"
"The papers you stole from my father's cabin while we were out after
the Indians."
"I was not near your house--I took no papers!" cried the half-breed,
fiercely. "Who says so tells a lie."
"I know you did take them, and unless you give them up I will have you
placed under arrest."
"Ha! don't you talk to Hank Stiger that way, or you will be sorry for
it." The half-breed's hand stole under his coat, and he showed the
handle of his hunting-knife. "Do you see dat?"
Dan sprang back, for he knew how treacherous the man before him could
be. But now Henry Parker stepped up.
"None of that, Stiger," he said, sharply, and placed his hand on the
handle of the pistol he carried in his belt.
"He wants to make trouble for me. He says I stole some papers," growled
Hank Stiger, sullenly.
"And I guess he is right, too," returned Henry. "If I understand the
matter, he has proof against you."
"Ha! did Big Foot tell----" Stiger broke off short, realising that he
was exposing himself.
"Yes, Big Foot told me everything," said Dan. "And you must give up
those papers, or take the consequence."
Hank Stiger's face grew as dark as a thunder-cloud.
"I'll pay off that Injun for it!" he cried. "I knew he wasn't to be
trusted, the skunk! But I ain't got no papers, never had 'em! This is a
put-up job to get squar' on account o' that deer," he continued, trying
to change the subject. "You got the deer, what more do you want?"
"I am not talking deer now,--I am asking for those papers,--and the
other things which were stolen," resumed Dan, doggedly. "What have you
done with them?"
"Find out fer yourself!" growled Hank Stiger, and turning swiftly, he
started on a run for the nearest corner.
"Stop! or I'll fire!" cried Henry Parker, as he drew his pistol, but
before he could make up his mind whether or not he had a right to fire
on the half-breed, Stiger was out of sight. Dan ran after him, and his
friend joined in the chase.
Stiger's course was toward the river, and having reached this, he
leaped into a canoe which was handy and began to paddle with all speed
for the opposite shore. A large lumber-raft was lying in midstream, and
this he kept as much as possible between himself and his pursuers.
"He's bound to get away if he can," observed Henry, as the pair gained
the bank of the Guadalupe almost out of breath.
"Here is another canoe--let us follow him in that," replied Dan.
Henry was willing, and they were soon on the river. Dan could paddle
well, and they made rapid progress around the raft and in the direction
Hank Stiger was taking.
Reaching the opposite shore at a point some distance below Gonzales,
the half-breed leaped into the bushes and made his way to a pine grove
farther away from the bank. The pursuers followed him to the point of
embarkation with ease, but here came to a halt.
"If it wasn't so dark we might follow his trail," observed Henry. "But
I can't see a thing under the trees."
"Here it is," came from Dan, who was on his hands and knees. "He went
into the pines. I'm going a bit farther," and he stalked off. Henry
remained behind to fasten the canoe, that the current might not carry
the craft off.
Dan had scarcely come up to the first row of pines when he saw
something moving over to his left. Satisfied that it was Stiger, he
sped in the direction. The half-breed saw him, and ran on.
"I've spotted him!" cried Dan to his friend. "Come on!"
"All right, I'm coming!" answered Henry.
On through the tall pines ran pursued and pursuers, until nearly
quarter of a mile had been covered. Dan was in front, with Henry close
behind.
"You are fools to follow me here!" roared Hank Stiger, as he came to a
halt. "Take that for your foolishness."
"Hide! he is going to fire!" exclaimed Dan, but before either he or his
friend could gain any shelter Hank Stiger discharged a pistol which he
carried. The bullet missed Dan, but struck Henry Parker across the
temple, and the young man went down, stunned and unconscious.
The unexpected turn of affairs made Dan's heart leap into his throat,
and he felt how imprudent both had been to thus expose themselves in
such an out of the way spot to a man in Stiger's condition. He drew his
own pistol, but the half-breed knew enough to dart out of sight behind
a thick clump of bushes.
"Henry, are you badly hurt?" questioned the boy, anxiously, but no
reply came back, and running to Parker, he found the young man flat on
his back and as still as death.
Never had Dan felt so badly as at this moment, for if his friend was
dead he felt that he would be more or less responsible for the murder.
He bent down and made a closer examination, and as he did this Henry
gave a deep shudder and opened his eyes for an instant.
"Thank God, he is alive!" burst from Dan's lips. Then, noticing the
blood trickling from Henry's temple, he bound up the young man's
forehead with his handkerchief.
In the meantime, Hank Stiger was making a détour, expecting to come up
behind Dan and surprise him. He had drank just enough to be utterly
reckless, and carried his pistol in his hand ready for another shot.
Providence saved Dan from the anticipated attack. While Stiger was
still two rods off, the boy happened to turn and catch sight of him.
His pistol was still in his hand, and, without stopping to think twice,
he fired on the half-breed.
The effect of the shot was curious, and the feat performed would be
hard to duplicate. The bullet from Dan's pistol struck the hammer of
Stiger's weapon, and while the pistol exploded and the ball sank into
the ground, the hammer was knocked off and hit the half-breed in the
cheek, inflicting an ugly wound. The bullet itself, having hit the
hammer, glanced downward and lodged in Stiger's leg, close to his
half-bent knee. The man gave a howl of pain and then fell flat.
In a moment Dan was ready for a second shot, but it was not needed.
Stiger's pistol was now useless, and as he could not stand up, because
of the intense pain in his knee, handling his knife was out of the
question. As he sat up, the boy faced him sternly.
"Up with your hands, Stiger," he said, sternly; and the hands went up,
and Dan was master of the situation.