THE EMERALDS GONE.
When Black John and his masked bandits had waited so long for the
return of Buffalo Bill and Pawnee Bill that their patience was worn
out, they left the concealment of the bushes.
It was certain that the scouts had not fallen into the trap in the
pass. If that had happened, rifle shots and the sounds of a conflict
would have notified them.
Everywhere was a silence that was trying to Black John. Nomad had
vanished as if into space; and, though they might have picked up and
followed the trail of his horse, the outlaws did not think that would
justify the loss of time necessary. They were more interested in the
two scouts.
Leaving the bushes, and circling back by the route they had come in
reaching them, taking their girl prisoner with them, they gained
again the hillside, where the other outlaws were waiting for the
scouts.
Toby Sam was much relieved when he saw his chief. He felt sure that
for a time the danger of a fight had passed.
“Seen nothin’ o’ ’em,” was Black John’s question.
“Nary a hair,” said Toby Sam. “But you seem to have struck suthin’.
We heerd a racket up there, and some of ther boys was fer goin’ ter
see what it meant; but I told ’em to stay here. Orders is orders, and
that’s what you tole us ter do.”
Clayton, who had been held in a hollow to the rear, was brought out,
and Lena could not repress a cry when she beheld her lover. She
marked his haggard face, but most she noted his bearing of courage
and reliance. She would have rushed to him, but one of the bandits
held her.
“Oh, Bruce! Bruce!” she cried.
“Cough up them em’rulds!” said one of the outlaws, “and then both o’
ye can go free.”
“Oh, do you mean it?” she cried, in a manner to make the bandits
think she intended their instant surrender.
Black John opened his eyes, wondering if there were other emeralds of
which he had no knowledge, and he listened for her further statement.
“I haven’t them,” she said, “as I’ve already told you; but I know
where they are; and if you will really release us, I’ll gladly show
you where they are. I’ll guide you to them. Oh, can I trust you? Will
you let us go?”
She clasped her hands in agitation, and looked round on the masked
faces.
“Can I trust you? Would you let us go, after getting those emeralds?”
“Young lady,” said Black John, “we would. Show us where they aire,
and as soon as we git our fingers on ’em we’ll turn you loose.”
He wanted his men to see that he was “doing all he could to get the
emeralds for them.”
He began to question the girl, and got from her a repetition of
the statement that she would show them where the emeralds were
concealed, on their promise to let her and Bruce Clayton go free.
She believed that Buffalo Bill and old Nomad could take care of
themselves; and as for Pawnee Bill, she thought he was hurrying out
of the country, on his way to Glendive. Her desire to secure the
freedom of Bruce Clayton made her selfish, perhaps, in some points.
The emeralds were as nothing to her, when compared with his safety.
Black John had taken a sudden and violent liking for the girl.
“I’ll cut loose from the others,” he told himself, “and slide; and
when I do I’ll take the emeralds, and I’d like to take her. I suppose
she’d make a rumpus, and all that, but what do I care? I can manage
her; if no other way, I can whale her, like the Injuns do their
squaws. I reckon that would fetch her to her senses. With the money
them emeralds will bring, I could hide out in Mexico somewheres, and
live like a prince, and never do no more work, ner run any more risk.”
Black John had as little knowledge of the heart of a true and refined
woman as if he were an Indian. Such women as he had known were of the
lower, coarser sort, and he judged all women by them.
“We’ll look round a bit,” he said to his men, for he had lost none of
his craftiness, “and we’ll see what’s become of Buffalo Bill and his
pard. And I wonder where that old trapper went to? That was a clever
thing he done, I’ll say! Also, it was reckless; fer if we hadn’t been
afraid to shoot we could have downed him and his horse dead easy!”
He took a couple of men and began to scout about, hoping to discover
what had become of Pawnee Bill and Cody; but he saw nothing.
“Beats my time!” he said. “They was right over there and follerin’
our trail, but soon’s we laid a trap fer ’em they dropped out of
sight. Yit I know that neither them ner their horses kin fly. And I
don’t see that old trapper nowhere. He’s a smart one, and no mistake.
I reckon he and that old horse o’ his aire hidin’ in some holler, and
keepin’ as close to the grass and bushes as if they was a pair of
rabbits.”
He spent almost an hour in this scouting trip, and returned with his
companions no wiser than when he went.
Toby Sam was talking with the prisoners when Black John returned, and
the prisoners seemed in remarkably good spirits.
Black John now moved his men along the backward way, but not on the
backward trail, and was soon leaving the hillside and the pass behind
him.
The girl kept her own counsel, and did not tell them that Pawnee Bill
had departed for Glendive.
When the spot was reached, near the stage trail, where the emeralds
had been concealed, she pointed it out to them.
Black John could not hide a grin. It was such a joke--when he had the
emeralds in his pocket!
The bandits saw the fresh earth turned there, and began to dig with
feverish energy. They reached the bottom of the hole, but found no
emeralds.
Then their rage broke bounds; for, suddenly, they conceived the idea
that from the first Lena Forest had deceived them.
If it had not been for Black John they would now have treated her
outrageously, and might have shot her, and her lover as well.
Black John did not care for Clayton, but he meant to protect the
girl. He put himself in front of her, and drew his revolver.
“Who’s the boss of this beehive?” he demanded harshly, fingering his
pistol. “You’ll know that I am, if you try any rushin’. Stand back,
there! And you, Toby Sam, shet yer yawp, er I’ll fill yer ugly mouth
with bullets. Let’s hear what the girl’s got to say.”
They clamored for her to speak, but she was mystified, puzzled,
chagrined.
“I saw them hidden there!” she said.
“Then somebody’s dug ’em up!” was the disgusted statement. “Somebody
seen ’em hid here, and dug ’em up; and where they aire now ther Lord
knows; but we’ve seen the last of them em’rulds, unless the young
lady is lyin’.”
They stared at her, and at Black John, who stood in front of her.
“Mebbe we kin hit the trail of the feller that done it?” Black John
suggested. He set to work to do that, but pointed out the trail of
the scouts, instead of his own.
He could afford to laugh at these men, now that he had the gems. He
was already wondering how he was to get away from them, and take the
girl with him.