OFF FOR MISSOURI.
The sheriff resolved to remain in Wrightstown, and start from there on
the Terror, with Jack and his two friends.
While awaiting a reply from the Governor of Missouri he put up at the
Sea Spider house, and went daily to the young inventor's workshop to
help get the engine ready.
Jack had to purchase many necessary articles to equip the electric
engine, and while they were stocking her, he said one day to Timberlake:
"As you are the sheriff of Clay County, Missouri, I cannot understand
what, right you had to desert your post of duty there, and go off on a
chase after the James Boys all the way to New York."
"That mystery can easily be explained," replied Timberlake with a smile.
"I was taking a vacation, to which I am entitled, when I learned of
their proposed trip to the metropolis to see the sights. Instead of
taking a rest, I became excited into a longing to capture them, and
started in pursuit as a detective would have done."
"Oh, that accounts for it!"
"You see I always carry with me a warrant for the arrest of the James
Boys and their gang, and therefore was prepared to take them had luck
favored me."
Just then Tim stumped up to them, and proffering a plug of tobacco to
the sheriff he asked:
"Have a chew?"
"No, I never use plug."
"Yer werry welcome, said Tim, and he took a bite.
"Don't mention it," laughed the sheriff.
"I've been havin' a awful hard time o' it, Timberlake."
"You don't say, Tim! What has happened?"
"Oh, 'twuzn't nuthin' wot occurred lately."
"To what do you refer then?" asked the perplexed sheriff.
"A leetle incident wot happened ter me when I wuz aboard o' the ole
frigate Wabash in ther navy."
"Indeed! Was you in the navy?"
"A good many years, sir. Whar else did I git this leg blowed off?"
"You was just going to mention something that happened."
"Ay, ay. So I wuz. Yer see, it happened this way. We wuz a coastin'
through ther Red Sea one brilln' arternoon, watchin' ther monkeys an'
crocodiles on ther Arabian shore when all at onct I noticed a queer
yaller-redness in ther sky on ther Afriky shore. It wuz caused by a
simoom. Great clouds o' sand, driv' by the wind, wuz a-rushin' acrost
ther desert toward ther ship, an' as it came out toward us, we seed we
wuz doomed."
"You were in a mighty tight box," observed the sheriff, interestedly.
"Keel haul me if we wuzn't," agreed Tim, with a nod. "Waal, sir, we
knowed that ther minute them ere clouds o' red-hot sand came down on
ther ship, it would bury us an' bake us ter death. All my messmates wuz
skeered ter death, an' droppin' down upon thar marrer bones about ther
deck, they begun ter pray like sons of guns. Did I give away ter ther
general panic? Not much.
"Cause why? I'll tell yer. A way ter save ther ship an' crew occured ter
me. Wot wuz it? Yer'll see. Yer know as crocodiles is reckoned ther
fastest swimmers in ther water. Waal, sir, as soon as I seed that ere
storm abarin' down on us I knowed as our only chance to save ourselves
laid in runnin' away from it. Now thar wuzn't wind enough for ther sails
ter do it, so wot does I do but gits a rope; then I jumped overboard
right in ther midst o' them crocodiles. Afore yer could count ten I made
a slipnoose fast about ther necks o' forty o' them animiles, got back
aboard the frigate an' tied ther other and o' ther line ter the capstan.
Then I took a spear an' cllmbin' out on ther bowsprit I began ter jab
'em an' away they went, pullin' ther frigate along like greased
lightning---"
"Say, Tim---"
"I ain't done yet---"
"But I tell you---"
"Awarst thar! As I wuz asayin' along we went like fury, ther simoon
chasing arter us. It wuz a terrible race an' I yelled and poked at them
ere crocodiles like mad.
"In a few moments we wuz makin' eighty knots an hour, an' I noticed as
we wuz pullin' away from that ere storm werry stiddy, ontil at last we
lef it astarn, an' ther ship wuz saved. You'd oughter seed how glad my
poor messmates wuz when I finally cut ther crocodiles loose an' we
sailed in clear water---"
"It must have been great," dryly said Timberlake.
"Ay now," proudly replied Tim. "That it wuz, sir."
"Say, Tim, that would be a splendid yarn only for one thing."
"An' wot might that be, Mr. Timberlake?"
"Crocodiles can't live in salt water, and as the Red Sea is exceedingly
briny, I don't understand how the ones you captured could have been
there and submitted to being harnessed as you did it, without offering
to make a meal of you."
A rather startled look crossed Tim's face.
He thoughtfully rubbed his big red nose and gasped:
"Gee whiz!"
The fact was Tim was an awful liar.
He seldom spun a yarn without being tripped up.
That is the trouble with most liars; they generally make an error in
their stories which won't stand analysis.
"Will you be kind enough to explain how those saurians happened to be in
that sea in such a docile frame of mind, Tim?" asked Timberlake, with a
provoking smile of derision.
"No, sir," flatly answered the old sailor, who was utterly at a loss how
to clear himself. "The fact are, sir, as I never gives explanations e'
my yarns, an'---"
But here he was interrupted.
By the wild shriek of an accordeon.
In the hands of Fritz.
The Dutchmen hated Tim's yarns.
And Tim hated Fritz's music with equal fervor.
Consequently, while the yarn caused the fat fellow to strike up his
frantic melody, the music grated on Tim's ears so that a wild desire
entered his soul to pulverize the Dutchman.
"Hey!" he howled, shaking his fist at Fritz. "Belay thar!"
"Shiminey Christmas, vos yer tink I vould listen ter some more ohf dem
lies mitoud dot I trownd it oud alretty?" fiercely bellowed Fritz,
working away at the wheezy box.
"Ye kin dash my toplights if I don't wipe up ther floor wi' yer then!"
yelled Tim, and he made a rush for Fritz.
"Shtood beck!" roared the Dutchman. "Stob a leedle, or py yiminey I soak
yer in der chaw mit dot moosic!"
He brandished his accordeon in the air by the strap as he spoke, and as
it opened out and his fingers were pressing on several of the keys, it
let out a shrieking groan horrible to hear.
Tim did not pause.
His spunk was up.
As soon as he reached Fritz be gave a whoop and jumped on him.
The next moment they were tangled up in a heap on the floor, and a
terrific struggle began between them, the sailor trying to put his
wooden leg through the accordeon, and the Dutchmen industriously
striving to gouge Tim's glass eye out.
In the midst of the scuffle, a monkey and parrot came flying in from the
next room, howling like fiends.
The parrot was named Bismarck.
Whiskers was the name of the monkey.
Fritz owned the bird, and Tim claimed the animal.
They had once been captured in Africa by their masters.
Since then the sailor and Dutchman invariably took their pets off on the
expeditions they made in Jack's inventions.
Between Bismarck and Whiskers there existed a deep rooted enemity, which
always culminated in pitched battles.
The monkey had been chasing the parrot when Tim and Fritz got fighting,
and as these two creatures possessed more than ordinary intelligence,
they at once determined to take sides with their respective owners.
"Whee!" bowled Whiskers, and he hopped on top of Fritz's head, grabbed
him by the hair, and tried to pull it out by the roots.
"Mild up, Boilvar!" yelled the slangy bird, as he fastened his beak in
Tim's ear. "Waow! Whoop her up, boys! Cracker! Crack---"
Biff! went Tim's hand against Bismarck's head, interrupting him.
Bang! went Fritz fist against the monkey's neck sending him spinning.
"Wow!" screamed Whiskers.
"Root, you sucker, root!" yelled Bismarck.
Then he made a dive at the monkey, and as Whiskers scampered away, the
parrot flew after him, plunged his beak in Whiskers' tail, and away they
flew into the next room.
Just then Jack interrupted the fracas.
"Stop, boys, and attend to business!" he sung out.
Tim and Fritz were accustomed to obeying him, and ceasing hostilities at
once, they rose, and the old sailor asked solemnly:
"Goin' ter stop playin' if I stops yarnin'?"
"For sure, Mikes," replied Fritz. "Put it dere."
They shook hands and that settled the matter.
Work on the electric stage was resumed, and by noon they had her in
perfect condition for her long journey.
When they entered the house they met Jack's beautiful wife and bright
little son.
Answers had arrived from Missouri.
The governor wrote Jack the following lines:
"Mr. Jack Wright,--In reply to your letter I beg to assure you of my
heartfelt gratitude for your kind offer to try to apprehend the James
Boys and break up their villainous gang. These outlaws have too long
been a terror to the community, and there is not a decent man, woman or
child in the state who would not be glad to hear of the extermination of
the gang. The list of crimes for which the James Boys are amenable is
too long and too horrible to enumerate here in detail. Let it suffice
that there are charges of every description in the category against
them, including many atrocious murders.
"So bitter is the feeling against them that a reward of five thousand
dollars has been offered for the James Boys, dead or alive. I enclose
warrants and all necessary authority for you to act in league with the
officers of this State in the capture or killing of the bandits in
question, and sincerely trust that you will meet with entire success. By
this mail have also written to Sheriff Timberlake whom I am delighted to
hear intends to go with you on your perilous expedition. He is a brave
and true man, in whom I have the most implicit confidence.
Yours truly, John Doe."
The papers in Jack's envelope were entirely satisfactory.
Timberlake's letter was of a personal nature, and when he finished
reading it, and heard what was communicated to Jack, he said:
"Well, now that all details are settled, when do you intend to go in
pursuit of the outlaws?"
"To-night," replied Jack. "We have everything ready but the stowage of
our clothing aboard."
"Good! The sooner the better."
"I tink so neider," agreed Fritz.
"That settles it, then," Tim added.
It did not take them long to put their clothing and the parrot and
monkey aboard the Terror.
When night fell, Jack took leave of his wife and child.
They all then boarded the electric stage. Jack taking his seat at the
wheel, and she started.
Many people in the village streets saw them as they went flying by, and
heartily cheered them on their way, as the news of Jack's intention had
got abroad.
The Terror soon left Wrightstown behind.
Following the hard country road he sped along swiftly, and soon was lost
to the view of the villagers.