BESIEGED.
So deadly had been the aim of the troopers as they poured their volleys
of lead at the horses dashing down the mountain that the animals were
quickly stopped in their mad run.
"Close in! Be careful, Red is a dead shot!" yelled the manhunters as
they leaped and scrambled over the rocks, hurrying to gain the spot
where the horses had dropped before the fugitives, whom they supposed
to have been riding the animals, could have the chance to seek cover in
the underbrush.
The flare of the torches made the mountainside almost as light as day.
In the excitement, the manhunters poured volleys of lead at everything
that moved, determined not to let the outlaw escape again.
But as the foremost of the pursuers gained the side of the disabled
horses, they knew that they had been outwitted by the resourceful
Rogers.
"He's fooled us!" yelled a trooper.
"What makes you think so?" demanded Lieutenant Fox, who was the first
officer to reach the scene.
"Because the horses and their blankets are riddled with bullets,"
replied one of his men. "No person could have been on their backs and
have lived."
"Then where _is_ Rogers?" returned the young officer.
"The old Nick only knows," grunted a veteran. "One thing's certain,
though." And then the trooper grew silent, as if repenting of his words.
"What is certain? Why don't you speak, man, instead of standing there
like a dummy?" flashed Fox.
"I didn't want to seem to be meddling, sir," rejoined the trooper.
"But I was going to say that Red can't be far away or he wouldn't have
resorted to the ruse of turning his horses loose."
"Then get busy and find him. Don't waste precious time standing round
here," snapped the lieutenant. And at his words, the group about
the fallen horses melted away and disappeared among the rocks and
underbrush, the men's course being indicated by the glow from their
torches.
A moment the young officer stood, debating whether he should go with
his men or report to the colonel, and before he had made up his mind,
the members of the sheriff's posse who had caused the outlaw to abandon
his horses, came upon him.
"Who are you?" demanded the lieutenant.
"We came with Sheriff Black," replied one of them.
"Well, get into the brush. Don't dally round here. Rogers has tricked
us."
"Ain't that just like him?" exclaimed another member of the posse. "I
told Black, while we were waiting up the trail yonder, that I'd bet Red
would get away, and now he's done it. One or a thousand men, it don't
make no difference to him. If he has any chance at all, he can wriggle
through them. Now I----"
But the young officer, reminded by the fellow's words of the manner in
which the outlaw had eluded him during the day, turned on his heel and
was walking away, when a shout sounded from ahead.
"This way! This way!" yelled a voice. "Red's gone this way! Here's the
body of a man he's killed!"
Instantly the troopers who had been scouring the mountainside
surrounding the horses gave up their efforts and hastened up the trail.
"That's Faro Pete," announced Sheriff Black, after an examination of
the body. "I'd rather have lost a dozen other men than him."
"Why?" demanded Captain Smythe, forcing his way through the group about
the man whom the outlaw had killed.
"Because, as a member of Red's old gang, he knew all his haunts. When
he heard where the cuss had been located, he 'lowed that Red would
probably make for the Old Stockade, and if he found the trails cut off,
for the 'Breathing Cave.' Pete was the only man, so far as I know, who
was ever with Red in the Cave. And now he's gone and we're likely to be
gray headed before we can find out how to get into it."
"Breathing Cave? Breathing Cave?" repeated the captain. "What in the
world are you talking about, man? Who ever heard of a Breathing Cave?"
"I have, sir," replied a voice.
In surprise, the officers and sheriff turned toward the speaker and
beheld Alkali.
"Then tell us what it is and where it is," commanded Smythe.
"It's a crack in a rock, barely large enough for a man to squeeze into,
and when you stand beside it, you can feel it breathe."
"Feel a rock breathe," sneered Lieutenant Fox, contemptuously. "Have
you been drinking, Alkali?"
"No, sir. What I'm telling you about that Cave is the truth. And I can
prove it."
"How?" demanded Smythe.
"By taking you to it."
"You know where it is?" exclaimed the sheriff and the officers, in
pleased surprise.
"Sure I do. You ain't more than three rods from it this very minute."
"Then take us to it," ordered the captain. "Beyond a doubt, that's
where the man we're after is hiding. Fox, go down and report to the
colonel all we have learned. You might suggest that it would be well
for him to come up here. He'll probably wish to take charge of the
prisoner."
With no attempt to conceal his disappointment and displeasure at being
sent by his superior to carry a message to the colonel that might just
as well have been entrusted to a private, especially when the capture
of the notorious outlaw who had led them such a merry chase seemed
imminent, the lieutenant turned on his heel without replying, starting
down the mountainside at a run.
Shouting and yelling in jubilation at the thought they would soon have
the notorious outlaw securely bound and on his way back to the jail
from which he had escaped, leaving a trail of Corpses behind him, the
troopers swarmed after the half-breed.
"I wish you'd hold 'em back, sir," exclaimed Alkali to the captain, who
with several other officers was following close at the scout's heels.
"Why?"
"Because I want to examine the entrance to the Cave to find if Red is
really in there. But if them troopers, crowd round, they'll spoil any
tracks there may be."
Realizing that Alkali spoke sound sense, the captain faced about.
"No man can come nearer the Cave than twenty feet until I give
permission," he shouted.
Amazed at the command, the troopers asked one another what new
development could have transpired. But their curiosity was quickly
allayed by the sight of the half-breed creeping about on his hands and
knees.
Interest in the scout's discoveries was forgotten for the moment by
the officers as they felt a sudden outpouring of air, followed several
seconds later by a sucking downward of the atmosphere.
"What in the world can that be?" they asked one another.
"It's the 'Breathing Cave,'" grunted Alkali; in explanation.
"It sure is just like a person breathing," asserted Captain Smythe,
after he and several of his companions had dropped to their knees near
the crevice in the rock and felt the outward and inward rush of air
against their faces.
"How did you know about it, Alkali?" demanded another officer.
"Injuns."
"Did they give any explanation of the mystery?"
"Some did, some didn't."
Further discussion of the wonder was prevented for the moment, at
least, by the arrival of Colonel Edwards.
"Have you got the devil cornered, Smythe?" he asked of the officer.
"I believe so, sir."
"Believe? Don't you _know_?" thundered his superior.
"No, sir. I'm waiting for Alkali to determine whether Rogers has
entered that opening in the rock or not."
"Well, I guess the surest way to put an end to him is for the earth to
swallow him," chuckled the colonel. "What do you find, Alkali?"
"He's in there, and there are two others with him. I----"
"Any sign of the three Mounted Scouts they captured?" interrupted
Captain Smythe.
"They was dragging something with them. You can see where the dirt over
there is scraped. But whether it's the Scouts, I can't say, sir."
"We'll probably find their bodies somewhere down the trail," opined the
colonel. "It isn't likely they would have bothered with them when we
were pressing them so close. But you're sure Red Rogers is in there?"
"Yes, sir."
"Any other way to get into the Cave?"
"Not as I know of, sir."
"How big is it?"
"Never was inside."
"Well, there's one sure thing. Rogers and his companions can't find any
food in there."
"Captain Smythe, you will pick thirty-men and stay here, camped about
the opening to this Cave, until you either starve Rogers out or to
death."