A TALK WITH HIS UNCLE.
“Be very careful of yourself,” said Claude in an earnest whisper. “They
have their revolvers in their hands, and are ready to shoot the first
one who steps into the office.”
“I will take care of that,” said Mr. Preston. “You keep out of the way.”
Claude stood in the door of his uncle’s room and watched him as he
moved with noiseless steps toward the office. He reached the door
and went into it, and the next moment he heard the word “Surrender!”
spoken in a loud tone, followed by the report of a pistol. A yell came
close upon the heels of it, and after that the noise of the revolvers
came faster than he could count them. He felt sure that his uncle had
received his death-wound. Almost at the same instant, as if they had
been waiting for this signal, there was the sound of hurrying feet
in the hall, and the foreman and cook ran by with their revolvers in
readiness. They glanced in at the office door, and then went on to
the front door, which they opened in great haste, and began shooting
there; but presently the sound of flying hoofs came to Claude’s ears,
which told him that the squawmen had succeeded in reaching their horses
and were scurrying away toward the entrance of the valley. A moment
afterward his uncle came out of the office. His face was very pale, but
Claude could see that he was not wounded.
“They have got away,” said the foreman in disgust. “Did they hit you
anywhere, Mr. Preston?”
“No, I am all right,” said his employer. “But bring a light and we will
see if there isn’t some marks down here. Harding drew his pistol on me,
but I got the first shot and he dropped the revolver out of his hand.
When he yelled so, I thought surely I had him.”
[Illustration: THE ROBBERS FOILED.]
Of course the whole house was aroused by this time. Every man who
was asleep under that roof was awakened by the pistol-shots, and had
come out, revolver in hand, to see what was going on. Foremost among
them was Carl, who, when he heard the particulars of the matter, ran to
the front door and gazed out into the night.
“It is no use, Carl,” said his father. “They had their horses ready
saddled, and of course took themselves straight off. I am not hurt, and
that is one thing you ought to be thankful for.”
“Here’s Harding’s weapon,” said Carl, as the cook came in at that
moment with a light. “It is all blood, too. Why, father, I don’t see
how you missed them at that distance.”
“Probably my nerves had something to do with it,” replied his father.
“A year ago I would have risked my chance of dropping them both where
they stood; but my skill has gone from me.”
“Here’s some more blood on the window-sill,” said one of the cowboys.
“You have probably marked them both.”
“Yes, I hit each one of them. Now we will go back, and go to bed.
Claude, I owe you something for this. If they had taken what there is
in the safe it would not have ruined me. A few days ago I had five
thousand dollars in there, but now it is safe in the paymaster’s hands
at the fort. How much do I owe you, Claude?”
“Nothing at all, sir,” said Claude, as he shook hands with Carl, who
came up but did not say anything. “I have saved your money, and that is
all I cared for.”
Some little time was spent by the hands in talking over the incidents
of the attempted robbery, and everybody except the foreman and cook
were loud in their praises of Claude, who had led the squawmen on till
he got all their plans. They were suspicious of Claude, and it would
require something more than he had done to relieve them of it.
“Father, I have some fault to find with you,” said Carl, as they were
about to separate and each one go to his own room. “Why did you not
take some one into your confidence?”
“I did. These two men were wide-awake and came out as soon as they
heard the pistol-shots. I could not have found anybody better than
they, could I?”
“No; but you ought to have had somebody along to back up your shots. I
believe I could have done better than you did.”
This raised a smile on the part of all of them, and they bade Mr.
Preston good-night and went to their rooms. Claude was the only one who
did not feel very good over it. His uncle had said that he “owed him
something,” but he did not say how much.
“Why didn’t he promise me the money to-morrow, so that I can go back
to the city?” said Claude, as he took off his clothes and tumbled into
bed. “They must see that I don’t want to live here. I wonder if I could
punch him up and get him to draw on that five thousand dollars he has
in the paymaster’s hands? That is something worth thinking of.”
Morning came at length, and Claude got up to find that he was treated
with respect by all hands except the foreman and cook. These two did
not seem to want anything to do with him. Of course they bid him
good-morning and answered all the questions he asked them, but they
did it in a short way, as though his talking bothered them. They were
careful not to let Mr. Preston see them in conversation with him, for
they knew that their employer would take them to task about it. None of
the hands referred to the matter at the breakfast-table, and in fact
they seemed to have forgotten all about it, and Claude listened in vain
for his uncle to mention the subject of a reward. He finally concluded
that he was not going to get any.
“He is the meanest man I ever saw,” said Claude, as he went out to
saddle his horse. “He lets me risk my life in saving his money, and
doesn’t give me anything. I wish to goodness I had said nothing about
it.”
A few days after this, Claude found a couple of strange men in the
house when he came home to dinner. They were very different from
Harding and his partner, for they were cattlemen on the face of them.
They wore their revolvers strapped about their waists, had silk
handkerchiefs around their necks, and their hats, which lay beside them
on the floor, were sombreros of the widest kind.
“Well, Claude, it seems that you are not out of this scrape after
all,” said Mr. Preston.
“What scrape do you mean, uncle?” asked Claude.
“Why, about that safe robbery. Harding and his partner have gone among
the Sioux Indians, and are going to kill every one of us.”
“How did you find that out?” asked Claude, his face growing a shade
paler.
“These men, who have come down to hire in their places, brought the
news straight from them. They are going to kill you on sight, for they
blame you as much as anybody for their failure; and Carl they are going
to capture and keep until they can get some stock out of him.”
“They say you talked to them very mean in regard to Mr. Preston,” said
one of the cowboys with a smile.
“I never said a word to them in my life,” said Claude, opening his eyes
in surprise. “They said something to me, and I tried my best to defend
Uncle Preston. They got their money right along every month, and were
not worked any harder than the rest of us. But how are they going to
catch us?”
“Oh, there are plenty of ways in which it can be done,” said Mr.
Preston. “They are among the Sioux now, and it will be easy work to get
a few of the young braves to come here and steal some cattle.”
“Why, they are at peace!” said Claude.
“That makes no difference. The Sioux are getting mighty uneasy about
their money and their supplies, which ought to have been delivered
long ago; and when a man gets hungry it don’t take him long to get on
a cattle-stealing expedition. They will leave you here, wherever they
find you, but they will capture Carl.”
Mr. Preston laughed when he said this, and Claude was half inclined to
believe that he did not put any faith in what the squawmen intended to
do. Carl came in very shortly, and he, too, laughed over the story. He
did not believe that the Sioux would go on the warpath for the sake of
capturing him, and he said so.
“I’ll tell you what to do, Claude,” said he. “If you see an Indian
coming toward you, just halt him.”
“How will I do that? He speaks his own language——”
“Yes; but you have a rifle. Just point that toward him, and you will
see him turn and go the other way.”
There was one thing that made Claude determine that he would not stay
in that country any longer than he could help, and that was the idea of
killing him on sight. Another thing that made him angry was the cordial
manner in which the foreman and cook, who were not long in finding out
why they came there, greeted the newcomers. Thompson told them that
they were the very men he needed. Claude waited some time for the men
to mount their horses and go away, and then he approached his uncle,
who was sitting on the porch enjoying his after-dinner pipe.
“Why, Claude, how does this come?” asked Mr. Preston. “You ought to
have been away long ago.”
“Yes, but I wanted to see you first,” said Claude. “I am getting sick
of staying in this country——”
“Ah! You don’t like the idea of the Sioux being down on you,” said his
uncle with a laugh.
“I don’t care anything about that. I have been discontented here for
a long time, and I am impatient to get back to the city. Give me some
money and let me go.”
“We are very busy just now, Claude, and I don’t know whether I can find
anybody to show you the way to Standing Rock Agency or not. If you can
wait two or three weeks I will send somebody with you.”
Claude waited for him to say something about a reward for breaking up
that safe robbery, but Mr. Preston did not say anything about it. It
was right on the end of Claude’s tongue to ask him if he was going to
give him anything for that, but on the whole he concluded that he would
hold his peace.
“How much money have I got coming to me?” he asked. “I know I have not
got much,” he added mentally, “but that will start me on the road.”
“I owe you four hundred dollars,” said his uncle. “You know you spent
money pretty lively while you were down at the fort. That sum can’t
help you much if you are in a big city. Your expensive habits will get
the better of you. What do you intend to do?”
“I don’t know. I know, or did know, of a news depot that I could
buy for eight hundred dollars, and that would support me as well as
anything. But the trouble is, I haven’t got the eight hundred dollars.”
“No, it takes money to make money, as I have often heard you express
it. You could probably get that news depot for your four hundred
dollars down, and if you were economical——”
“No, I could not. The man must have cash, for he intends to leave the
country.”
“That is bad, and you will have to hit upon something else. Have you
ever tried book-keeping?”
“No, sir. That is altogether too confining a business for me. I want to
have something to do so that I can get out of doors once in a while. A
person would die for the want of exercise.”
“Well, I don’t know what you will go at,” said his uncle, looking
down at the floor. “Book-keeping is a very nice business, and if you
are careful to save your money it will last you until you take a full
course at some commercial college.”
“I shall not try book-keeping, and that is out of the question.”
“Didn’t your father prepare you for any business in life?”
“No, sir. He had always got through his life without being educated for
any business, and he thought that I could do the same.”
“Your father made a bad mistake—I will say that much for him.”
“Have you educated Carl for any business?” asked Claude, who kept
growing angrier the longer the conversation continued.
“Yes; he will be able to attend to the stock business after I am gone.
I had hoped to prepare you for the same business, but I see you don’t
like it. If you will wait two or three weeks I will send some one down
to show you the way to the fort,” said Mr. Preston, getting upon his
feet.
This was a hint that his uncle had said all he wanted to say on the
subject, and Claude at once started out after his horse.