TRACKED TO HIS LAIR.
So absolutely by surprise had the ranchers and cowboys been taken that
the shock seemed to paralyze their senses and they stared at the three
men glowering from behind the death-dealing weapons as though they had
never before beheld them.
With difficulty, Deadshot and Ki Yi restrained their desire to break
into laughter. But so utterly crestfallen and pitiful did their
companions look that they at last took compassion on them.
“Grouch, you old coyote, why didn’t you throw up your hands, the way
the gentleman told you to?” suddenly demanded the boy from the Double
Cross.
At the words and the ring of the voice, the men who believed themselves
in the power of the pals of Scalping Louie started violently.
“Well, if it isn’t Deadshot and the others!” exclaimed Dude, in disgust.
At this identification, the trio dropped their shooting irons into
their holsters and, walking to the fire, squatted down without waiting
to be asked.
“What on earth did you throw such a scare into us for?” demanded Hawks,
his ire rising, when he saw that all danger was passed, to think he and
his companions had been so easily tricked.
“To let Nig show you just how big a bunch of dubs you are!” retorted
the member of the Double Cross outfit. “We are sore because you let
Scalping Louie get away and so we thought we’d get even with you by
proving to you that any one could come right up to where you were and
capture you, without you so much as knowing there was anybody round.”
“It’s sure one on us--and a bad one,” admitted Bowser.
“But how did you know Louie had got away?” demanded Dude.
“Nig doped that out when he heard you firing so much,” rejoined Ki Yi.
“In addition to being the greatest thing in the line of a scout I ever
came across, he can get the lay of any situation straighter than any
one I know.”
“Then, if he’s so all-fired clever, let him get out and trail the
cuss!” snapped Grouch.
“He will, never fear, as soon as we’ve had some grub. We’re a bit
hungry, seeing that our ponies with all our chuck were stampeded by the
cattle when we set the fire in the swamp.”
“So were ours--only it was Louie who did the stunt,” declared Dude.
At this announcement of the further humiliation of the avengers, the
aged scout and the two men who had accompanied him roared with laughter.
“I suppose we ought to be thankful he didn’t kidnap the bunch of
you!” grinned Ki Yi, when he had recovered from his mirth. “But from
the hunger that’s gnawing my insides, I don’t know but I’d have been
willing to swap Grouch for some food.”
“Don’t get too funny,” retorted the member of the Star and Moon outfit.
“If you’d been any sort of fellows, you’d fixed Louie in the swamp and
then the whole thing would have been over, instead of just starting in
again.”
But no attention did Ki Yi or Deadshot pay to this remark.
For just as it was finished, Pinky came forward with some grub.
The sight of the cowboy they had supposed to be back at the ranch
filled them with surprise and his welcome was none the less hearty
because he appeared with food.
“Now, if Sandy were only here, we’d be all hunky,” asserted Ki Yi.
“Oh, I’m here all right,” announced the foreman of the Double Cross,
advancing to where the others could see him.
And while the trio were satisfying their appetites, they listened to
the story of what had happened to their pals who had been left to watch
for the Midnight Raider, their narrow escape from the fire and the
thrilling rescue of Bowser.
“Well, now that we’re all here, what’s to be done?” asked Hawks.
“Better leave that to Nig, it seems to me,” returned the owner of the
Double Cross.
The others signifying their acquiescence by their silence, all eyes
were turned upon the aged scout.
“Which way Louie go?” he inquired, after enjoying his importance for
several minutes.
“South,” chorused two or three of the cowboys.
“Huh. Palefaces wait here. Nig take look round,” returned the
half-breed, and without giving them time to protest, he sprang to his
feet and glided off into the grass.
As though Dame fortune had decided to smile upon them, the night turned
out to be clear as crystal and in due course a magnificent moon arose,
bathing the plains in her silvery light till they were almost as bright
as day.
For a while, after the aged scout had left them, Deadshot and Ki Yi
regaled their companions with descriptions of the man’s marvellous
skill in guiding them into and from the swamp. But as the minutes wore
on without his return, they grew silent.
Suddenly Deadshot sprang to his feet.
“I say, let’s not give the old beggar the chance to get the drop on us
again,” he exclaimed. “Ki Yi, you Dude and Pinky watch the North, West
and East, and I’ll take the South. Challenge anything suspicious.”
Readily the others agreed and about an hour after taking their posts,
they were startled to hear Ki Yi shout:
“Out there in the grass! Who are you? Speak before I count three--or
I’ll shoot! One--t----”
“It’s Nig! No shoot!” quickly returned a voice, and a moment later, the
aged scout was among them.
“What did you find?” inquired Bowser.
“Louie gone to catacombs. Um hit. Found trail blood. Paleface pony over
to North, half mile.”
These responses brought delight to the avengers and quickly they were
afoot.
“Nig, you ride with Pinky and show Ki Yi, who’ll take Sandy’s pony,
where our horses are,” commanded Bowser. “Bring ’em in as soon as you
can. I sure am itching to get on that raiding devil’s trail so I can
get a shot at him.”
With alacrity, the three men mounted and galloped away, returning
in a short time with all the ponies save the one Scalping Louie had
appropriated for himself.
Not long did it take for the ranchmen and cowboys to mount and, with
Slippery Nig riding to where he had left his pinto with Deadshot, they
again took up the trail of the Midnight Raider.
Making all speed possible, scarce a word was spoken until they came in
sight of the cell-honeycombed cliff looming in the distance.
“We leave um pony here,” exclaimed Nig, after taking a careful survey
of the plains that he might get his bearings.
“But why? The catacombs must be all of five miles away,” protested
Hawks.
“Sure. But Louie, him can see man on pony heap more easy than man in
grass on foot.”
“That’s true enough. Yet he won’t be looking for us, seeing that he
jumped our horses on us,” returned the owner of the Star and Moon ranch.
“Louie no take chances. Um know cowmen not only ones on trail.”
“See here, Hen. I say we let Nig have his way,” exclaimed Bowser. “He
sure knows his business--and we haven’t made a howling success of our
part.”
This proposal met the ready response of the cowboys and without more
ado, they quickly dismounted, hobbled their ponies and resumed the
trail to the Midnight Raider’s lair on foot.
Bending low, they advanced cautiously till they were within some two
hundred yards of the base of the catacombs.
“My back’s lame stooping over,” snarled the owner of the Star and Moon.
“I think this business of crouching is all rot, anyhow. I’m going to
stand up.”
But bitterly did the ranchman regret his decision and heartily did his
fellows curse him.
With an oath, the aged scout leaped upon the ranchman to drag him
down--but he was too late!
No sooner had Hawks’ head appeared above the grass than a rifle barked!
“By thunder! He’s got me!” cried the owner of the Star and Moon,
clapping his hand to his left shoulder.
“Serves you good and plenty right!” retorted Bowser.
“Paleface more fool than coyote!” snarled Nig. “Now we no get to
catacombs till night.”
“Why not?” asked Sandy.
“Cause Louie stay on watch.”
But if the avengers were balked in their advance upon the murdering
Indian they had the satisfaction of knowing that he could not escape
without running the gauntlet of their fire because the tiers of tombs
had been hollowed from a cliff and only extended three rows in.
Cursing the ranchman openly and under their breath, the cowboys made
themselves as comfortable as they could and prepared to await the
coming of darkness, their guns ever at a ready, however, to pump a shot
into their quarry should he show himself.
Once or twice, Nig wormed his way forward, then raised a bunch of grass
suddenly, to learn whether or not his arch-enemy was on watch. And each
time a bullet ripped it to pieces.
“He’s some shot!” exclaimed Dude, after the third repetition of this
feat.
“Have to be,” grunted the aged scout, immediately lapsing into a
silence from which no amount of questioning could rouse him.
To the avengers, it seemed that never did a day have so many hours nor
the sun seem so loath to set. But at last twilight came--and with it
welcomed activity to the manhunters.
“Me take Ki Yi, Deadshot and Pinky,” announced Nig. “You left, all
spread out. When we get to catacombs, we give shot, then you set fire
to grass and watch so Louie no ’scape. We get Injun to-night--or never!”
But the task was destined to prove no easy one!
The face of the cliff into which the tomb cells had been cut was about
three hundred feet long.
After stationing the five men who were again to try to prevent the
fiend’s getting away in positions some sixty feet apart and instructing
them to lie flat on their bellies in front of the fires they were to
set, in order that Scalping Louie might not shoot them down, the aged
scout, his eyes glistening with anticipated joy at the doom of his
enemy, led the three cowboys forward.
Bang! went Deadshot’s gun as they reached its base.
Instantly, the fires flared from the plains in answer.
“You um take hold this rope,” ordered Nig, rapidly passing out an end
of his lariat which he had brought with him. “Ready? Now.”
Yet before they could gain the entrance to the tombs, the murdering
Indian made his presence known!
With terrific force, a huge rock struck the ground scarce a yard in
advance of the aged scout.
“You be sorry! You be sorry!” hissed Nig, shaking his fist toward the
top of the cliff. “Nig know where you are, now! You on third row tombs!
We got climb stair.”
As easily as though it were daylight, the aged scout sped along the
face of the cliff, then suddenly darted into one of the openings and
thankful, indeed, were his companions that they were tied to him.
“We go up stair,” Nig whispered. “Get down on hand and knee. No make
noise!”
Obediently, the cowboys dropped to all fours and began the ascent of
the old, seldom used rock steps. But though they did their best, it was
impossible for them to restrain an oath or an exclamation of alarm when
their hands touched some creeping thing, now and again.
“We must be pretty near the sky!” breathed Pinky after what seemed an
endless climbing.
“That’s no place look for Louie,” returned the aged scout. “We be on
same row in jiffy.”
Nig’s act of speaking amazed his companions. Yet it was done for the
purpose of learning whether or not their quarry had surmised they might
mount the stairs and be waiting to greet them with a rain of lead.
And the scheme worked to perfection!
Bang! went a gun almost before the words were finished. But because the
wily old half-breed had made his men crawl on their hands and knees,
the bullet whistled harmlessly over their heads.
Expectantly, the cowboys listened for the answering crack of the aged
scout’s sixshooter. Instead, however, they felt a quick jerk on the
rope and then felt it taughten as Nig crept forward.
The failure to draw fire from his pursuers worried the Midnight Raider.
Realizing full well the desperateness of his position, he determined to
learn their whereabouts at any cost--and of a sudden he flashed a torch.
Taken by surprise, the wily old half-breed was not prepared to fire and
before he could do so, the hard-pressed renegade threw away his light,
and dashed down the tier of tombs.
“Up! After him!” hissed Nig.
Quickly the cowboys obeyed, plunging blindly through the darkness,
guided only by the rope which bound them to the aged scout.
In the instant that the torch had flared, Scalping Louie had recognized
the grizzled features of his arch-enemy--and realized he must outwit
him were he to escape.
With this purpose, he suddenly darted into the row of tombs second
from the rear wall, unwound his lariat, made one end fast about one of
the pillars and then tied it around a pillar of the outside tier, some
eighteen inches from the floor.
This done, the scheming fiend glided noiselessly back to the second
row, took a position whence he could leap upon the rope and shouted:
“Slippery Nig, nor you nor hundred paleface no catch Louie!”
Whirling in the direction whence the taunt came, the aged scout sped to
the outer tier of tombs, then started toward the end--and tripped over
the rope!
With a howl of triumph, Scalping Louie was upon the cursing, squirming
mass of cowboys.
But he had reckoned without their strength!
“I’ve got him! Here he is! Quick, strike a light!” yelled Deadshot,
winding his arms about the murdering Indian in a grip like steel,
rendering the fiend powerless to wield his scalping knife, as he had
intended.
Yet the Midnight Raider was resourceful!
Realizing that should a torch be lighted his end was come, he raised
his knee with terrific force, catching his captor full in the stomach,
at the same time butting him viciously in the chest with his head.
The suddenness of the move broke Deadshot’s hold and, with a mocking
laugh, the daredevil renegade dashed for the stairway and darted to the
second floor of the catacombs.
“You done for now!” gloated Slippery Nig. “Quick, boys, strike match,
get torch, pick up dried twigs, grass, anything make fire. We drive
Louie out!”
Not understanding exactly how this was to be accomplished, the
cowpunchers nevertheless obeyed, and when they had gathered piles of
inflammable stuff, Nig took it, crept down the stairs, placed it at the
head of the tier, thrust a match into it and as it blazed up, bounded
back to the floor above.
“Ki Yi, you, Pinky watch here. Deadshot come with me. Nig know
trap at other end this row. We go down. Get Louis between fire and
us--bang!--all over!”
Quickly the cowboys obeyed and while, with guns ready, Pinky and Ki Yi
stood guard at the head of the stairs, the other two hastened to the
opposite end of the tier and began to work with might and main at the
stone which formed the trap door.
The Midnight Raider, however, heard them and, taking his position
behind a pillar, waited for a form to appear through the opening.
But the aged scout was more than his match in cunning. Anticipating
this very act, as soon as he and Deadshot raised the trap, he took off
his vest and lowered it cautiously.
In the darkness, the murdering Indian was only able to distinguish some
object descending--and blazed away at it, again and again.
“Howl! Yell!” urged the old half-breed of his companion. “Make believe
you hit! Me lower vest some more. You count shot. When get ten tell me.
Louie gun empty, then we drop and git um!”
Marveling at the cunning of the aged scout, Deadshot obeyed.
And not until he had emptied both his guns and heard his pursuers as
they dropped to the floor did the Indian fiend realize he had been
outwitted!
But though unable to use his six shooters, Scalping Louie did not give
up!
Dashing to the ground tier, he awaited his chance to dart out onto the
plains.
“Paleface watch out! Louie coming! Set um fire up front of tombs! He no
got shells in guns!” shouted Nig, going to the front of the catacombs.
Several times was it necessary to repeat the order before Bowser and
the others understood. But at last they did and hastily began to start
a line of fire along the base of the cliff.
“Ki Yi, you um come down! Help Deadshot make blaze this floor!” then
ordered Nig. “Me keep Louie from coming up!”
Hemmed in like a rat in a trap, the murdering Indian faced his doom
with the stoicism of his race. The surprise of being driven from his
teppee in the swamp had forced him to flee without taking the time to
supply himself with ammunition beyond the shells he had in his six
shooters and the ones he found in the saddlebags on the pony he stole
were of a different caliber. Consequently, though he made his way to
the horse, which he had hidden in one of the cells, he had no means to
offer resistance.
As the flames leaped up outside the catacombs they made the interior of
the cells as light as day.
“I see him! I see him!” suddenly yelled Bowser. “Scalping Louie, you
may have come near causing my death twice--but you’ll never have
another chance!”
Rang out the “crack!” of a rifle, a bloodcurdling shriek--then the band
of avengers from the tombs above rushed down to make sure that the
Midnight Raider had not escaped his just doom!
THE END.
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LIST OF TITLES
December 1--No. 1. THE OUTLAW’S PLEDGE or The Raid on the Old
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December 8--No. 2. TRACKED TO HIS LAIR or The Pursuit of the
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December 15--No. 3. THE BLACK DEATH or The Curse of the Navajo Witch
December 22--No. 4. THE SQUAW MAN’S REVENGE or Kidnapped by the
Piutes
December 29--No. 5. TRAPPED BY THE CREES or Tricked by a Renegade
Scout
January 5--No. 6. BETRAYED BY A MOCCASIN or The Round-Up of the
Indian Smugglers
January 12--No. 7. FLYING CLOUD’S LAST STAND or The Battle of Dead
Man’s Canyon
January 19--No. 8. A DASH FOR LIFE or Tricked by Timber Wolves
January 26--No. 9. THE DECOY MESSAGE or The Ruse of the Border
Jumpers
February 2--No. 10. THE MIDNIGHT ALARM or The Raid on the Paymaster’s
Camp
February 9--No. 11. THE MASKED RIDERS or The Mystery of Grizzly Gulch
February 16--No. 12. LURED BY OUTLAWS or The Mounted Ranger’s
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Transcriber’s note
Minor punctuation errors have been changed without
notice. Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
The following printer errors have been changed.
Page 8: “the steel is cold” “the steer is cold”
Page 10: “silence that was portentious” “silence that was portentous”
Page 12: “vengeance of the men” “vengeance on the men”
Page 13: “we-ve got the gang” “we’ve got the gang”
Page 16: “pony in some sapplings” “pony in some saplings”
Page 17: “Arrived at the sapplings” “Arrived at the saplings”
Page 21: “explanation of the arids” “explanation of the raids”
Page 29: “’em!" exclaimed Deadshoot.” “’em!" exclaimed Deadshot.”
Page 32: “Tarpped by the Letter S” “Trapped by the Letter S”