A CLOSE CALL.
Despite his bravado evinced before his prisoners and the girl, Rogers
did not feel as secure in the "Breathing Cave," as his words made him
appear. Consequently, though he was wearied by his unusual exertions
after his long confinement behind the bars, he was awake early the next
morning.
Arousing Pedro, he bade him keep a close watch on the girl and the
scouts, and not to let them converse unless he was within hearing
distance.
"I'll watch 'em, never fear," promised the bandit.
"See that you do. Your life is responsible for their safety," returned
his master. And with these words, the outlaw walked to the end of the
cave opposite the crevice by which he had entered, placed his shoulder
against what seemed part of the solid wall of rock and, after several
attempts, pushed out a block about three feet square.
Cautiously sticking his head through the trap door, Rogers listened
intently for several minutes and then, apparently satisfied it would be
safe for him to go forth, squeezed through the hole, closing it behind
him.
But he was by no means out of danger.
The spot where the second entrance to the Cave was located was less
than a hundred yards from where Captain Smythe and his troopers had
established their siege camp, and was in full view from the valley
below where the rest of the troopers had bivouaced.
Yet, unless they had chanced to see him suddenly appear from the rock,
he ran little risk of detection from the latter, for he quickly gained
the shelter of a crag, where he waited to learn if an alarm was raised.
When some five minutes had passed and the silence which enveloped the
mountains and valleys was unbroken, he began his descent.
With all the cunning of which he was master, the daredevil outlaw crept
down the hillside, crossed the level land and then went up the other
mountain in order that he might learn whether or not any troops had
been stationed to watch the trail to the Old Stockade.
As he found the way entirely open, he was sorely tempted to pay a
hurried visit to the place which had been his headquarters and the
scene of many a wild orgy before he had been captured, but he told
himself there would be plenty of time to live over the old days when he
had fulfilled his pledge and accordingly he retraced his steps.
But the outlaw found that it would not prove so easy a matter to regain
the Cave as it was to leave it.
When he reached a spot on his return whence he could survey the valley
where the troopers had camped, instead of finding it deserted, as he
had expected, he found it alive with cavalrymen.
Wondering as to the cause, yet aware that it effected him, Rogers
sought out a rock from which he could watch the manhunters.
Had he returned an hour before, however, he would have found his
progress unimpeded.
After breakfast, Colonel Edwards had given the command to break camp
and return to the Fort, ordering the men to keep a sharp lookout for
the bodies of the three Mounted Scouts, who had been captured by the
outlaw.
When the search failed to reveal them, as the reader knows, both
officers and men came to the conclusion that Rogers had kept them with
him, and many were the speculations as to his reason for so doing.
About an hour had they been on the march, when a solitary rider was
sighted. More out of curiosity than anything else, Colonel Edwards
trained his field glasses upon him. But as he did so, his manner
changed.
"By all the gods of war, that's our man Shaw!" he gasped, "and he's
bound, gagged and blindfolded. That's the work of that devil, Rogers!
Lieutenant Hastings, take three men and see what's the trouble."
Like wildfire, the identity of the horseman had spread among the
cavalrymen and eagerly they watched as the detail dashed on its mission.
The strain of the terrible night when he knew not what moment might
be his last had proved too much for the Scout, however, and when his
comrades gained his side, he was jabbering to himself, a raving maniac.
Calling down all the curses of which they could think upon the head of
the desperado for his treatment of their fellow, the officer and his
men quickly, but tenderly, removed the gag, bandage and rawhide, then
lifted the scout from his horse and laid him on the plain, forcing
some brandy between his swollen lips, all the while plying him with
questions. But it was no use. Shaw could only jabber.
Realizing from the troopers' actions that something serious was amiss,
Colonel Edwards and his aides rode up just as one of the men picked up
the message Red Rogers had written, which had passed unnoticed in the
endeavor to restore the Mounted Scout to his normal self.
"A communication for you, sir," said Hastings, handing the rough scrawl
to his superior.
Adjusting his glasses, the colonel began to read it, then burst into a
towering rage.
"Listen to this! Listen to this!" he roared, addressing all within
earshot. "'Colonel Turkey Gobler. I cum bak to keep my promise to a
ded man. Yu no whu i mene, barney Landon, the man you cudnt get the
reward for becoze i hid his body. im going to fix evry man who helped
do barney. I am kepeing 2 of yure men. if yu get after me, ill send em
bak to yu in peces. if yu wil leve a safe conduk for rosie landon to
ole man quints friday i wont turn no tricks on yure post. Red Rogers.'"
As he proceeded, the colonel grew madder and madder, fairly screaming
as he finished.
"Think of it! That to me!" he chortled. "We'll go back and smoke that
devil out, if it takes every man on the post. Hastings, give the
orders. Send two men to the Fort with Shaw."
Not a man was there who did not consider Red's message a personal
insult, regardless of poor Shaw's treatment, and never were commands
more willingly obeyed than those to ride back to the Breathing Cave and
capture the daredevil bandit.
Pitching camp in the valley, the troopers quickly swarmed up the
hillside to the Cave, and it was almost at the moment of their arrival
that Rogers had caught sight of them.
As the officers reached the spot where the outlaw was supposed to
lie hidden, they immediately held a council of war, discussing the
quickest means of bringing the desperado to book. Many were the schemes
suggested, but it was finally decided to begin by trying literally to
smoke him out.
The men were ordered to collect piles of dry branches which were jammed
as tightly as possible into the crevice in the rock and then set afire.
At the sight of the flames and the realization of the troopers'
purpose, the outlaw leaped to his feet.
"Daylight or no daylight, I've got to save Rosie and Pedro!" he
muttered, and, never thinking of the danger to himself his act
entailed, he began to work his way to the Cave.
With marvellous skill, he descended the hill, crossed the valley in
which was located the camp, and crept up the other side. But every
trick of which he was master he was obliged to use. Indeed, no less
than three times, troopers passed within pistol shot of him, yet never
even a suspicion did they have of his presence.
But when he seemed to have success within his reach, he was balked.
Less than thirty yards was he from the secret entrance to the Cave
when some of the men began to gather brush just above it. And, cursing
frightfully, Rogers was forced to seek cover.
Fortunately for the girl and men within the Cave, the mysterious
breathing of the crevice kept the greatest part of the smoke from
entering the excavation in which they cowered.
Surprised to awake and find the outlaw gone, Rose grew more and more
uneasy as time went by without his return, and when the men began to
jam the brush into the crevice, she was beside herself with fear.
"There's no use of worrying," declared Pedro. "If they'd caught him,
they wouldn't be trying to suffocate him." And, so self-evident was
this argument that the girl took courage.
It was not until dusk, however, that Rogers finally found the
opportunity to re-enter his hiding place. And his arrival was just in
time, for his comrades were all but overcome with the smoke.
The sight of the outlaw unharmed, inspired them with hope, and eagerly
they followed him from the Cave.
And, because of the darkness, they experienced but little difficulty in
reaching the trail to the Old Stockade, and in due course arrived at
that nigh-impregnable fortress.