Before Joe could realize just what was taking place, and the terrified
man had not taken his second step, a section of the big chimney which
had been built from the bottom of the cellar was torn down, and from
out of the midst of flying brick and _débris_ stood the figure of a man.
Seen by the dim lantern light he appeared like a giant in stature,
while in either hand he held a cocked revolver, one weapon leveled
at the fleeing miscreant, while the other was pointed toward his
confederates, and his stentorian voice, sounding uncommonly loud and
clear in that underground room, commanded:
“Hold! Another step and I will measure the earth with your foul body!”
“I’m lost!” cried the frightened fugitive, falling upon his knees.
“It’s the ghost of Tim Bayne!”
It was little wonder if the man’s companions stood trembling with fear,
and that Joe Willet, brave girl that she was, nearly fainted.
Slowly advancing from the cloud of dust and dirt which had enveloped
his form, the man with the deadly weapons continued:
“I have caught you in your own trap. The man who lifts a finger dies
like a dog. It would be a blessing to man if I should send these
bullets through your worthless bodies.”
“Oh, spare me! Spare me!” begged the wretch upon his knees. “I did not
want to come here, but they made me. It was the buried treasure that
did it. We were going away as soon as we got that.”
A commotion which had been suddenly started overhead at that moment
arrested the attention of the others. Besides loud voices, could be
heard the tramp of many feet, so that it seemed as if a large party had
forced an entrance into the house.
Joe had heard this sudden outbreak above, and it had suddenly occurred
to her that the sheriff and his posse had returned.
But the peril, as great as it was, seemed to arouse her to swift
action. Though the man who was holding the desperadoes at bay was
unknown to her, he was proving himself an enemy to the night marauders,
and this fact told her that she could look to him for friendship.
In this dilemma she boldly addressed him. He showed no surprise at her
words.
“I need your assistance,” he said. “Get me some strong cord or rope, so
I may secure my birds. After that we will look further.
“I will get you the rope in a minute,” replied Joe, starting up the
stairs.
It was prudent that she should move cautiously, expecting, as she did,
that she was to find enemies in the house. But she had barely reached
the top of the stairs before the well-known voice of Little Hickory
came to her ears, sending a thrill of joy to her heart.
“Where is Joe?” he asked.
“Here!” she replied, bursting into the room; and regardless of the
others present, she threw herself into his arms, sobbing:
“I am so glad you have come, Rob.”
“I hope nothing more has happened here to harm you, Joe. Dr. Menter got
home this evening, and upon hearing of my predicament he would not rest
until he had seen me. Then he called ’Squire Hardy out of his bed, and
demanded my release in such terms that I was given up. But he has come
with us. Thank him, Joe, for what we owe to him.”
Joe now saw that the genial doctor was present, and he stepped forward
to grasp her hand. She also saw Larry, who was clasped in his mother’s
arms. Besides these twain there were others present, whom she did not
recognize in her joy, while she murmured her thanks to Dr. Menter for
the kind assistance he had given Rob.
“I am his debtor still,” replied the physician. “I am glad I got home
as I did. I wish I had been here before, for I might have saved you
much suffering.”
Then Joe acted very queerly, as it seemed to the others, for she
suddenly sprang back, exclaiming:
“Oh, the man in the cellar. I forgot him. You must go to his help, Rob,
with a rope.”
In a few hurried words she explained the startling _tableau_ being
enacted below them, when Rob and the men with him started to see what
could be done, while the women stood all together in a group, half in
tears and half in fright over the strange situation.
No change had taken place in the cellar, for the unknown man held his
victims so at bay not one dared to move. The lantern had dropped from
the hand of the man called Bill, but it had not been extinguished.
“They are a string of precious scamps on whose heads there is a good
price set. Tie them fast and firm.”
Willing hands did this, and though the baffled outlaws raved and
cursed, begged and implored, they were soon prisoners.
“We came in the nick of time,” said Dr. Menter, “and though I do not
fully understand what this move means, I feel certain it is going to
work in your favor, Robert. Ha! what means this skeleton here in the
ground? I believe we are about to get at the mystery of the old red
house.”
“You are,” said the stranger, who had put aside his revolvers, and
having brushed the dirt from his clothes, appeared before the rest a
fine specimen of manhood. “I think I can give you the key. But let us
go above, as I have matters of closer interest to me that I want to
speak of first.
“Rob, though you have grown so I should not have recognized you if your
name had not been spoken, I am Gideon Bayne, your father!”