A DARING ESCAPE.
There had been so many ups and downs for Chub during the few hours he
and Matt had been fighting for the claim that his discouragement now
took a philosophical turn.
"There goes our last chance, Matt," said he, with a grim laugh. "It's
what they call stealing your own thunder, ain't it, when a swift bunch
of toughs act like that?"
Matt was mad clear through. His eyes snapped vindictively as he watched
the exultant ruffians.
"The recorder closes his office in Phoenix at six o'clock?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Then Jacks has played his trump card. The only way that location
notice could be got to Phoenix in time to be recorded to-day was
by sending Perry on the motor-cycle. When we left Delray, he said
something about lending us a gun. I don't believe in guns, as a
general thing, but if we had borrowed Delray's we could have met these
scoundrels in their own way."
Matt's voice was low, but it throbbed with a fierce desire to do
something--anything--which might still win the day for the McReadys.
"The biggest steal on record, that's what it is!" breathed Chub.
"You could prove it in any court in the country, Chub. With your
father's testimony, and ours, you'll have a good case against Jacks and
Hawley."
"It takes money for lawsuits," said Chub bitterly, "and the McReadys
have been living from hand to mouth for more years than I care to think
about. There's no use talking about a legal fight, Matt. Possession is
nine points of the law, and the man who files his location notice first
always holds the ground. We'll just sponge the 'Make or Break' off the
McReady slate right now. For the rest of it, all I'm worrying about is
dad."
"If you fellers hev got through with yer confab," shouted Jacks, "ye'll
jest turn face-about an' jog fer that scooped-out place in the foot o'
the hill, right behind ye."
Matt looked around. The spot mentioned by Jacks was a jagged notch
among the rocks, twenty-five or thirty feet long by a dozen wide, and
with precipitous walls on all sides, except, of course, at the opening
in front.
"What are you driving us into that hole in the rocks for?" demanded
Matt.
"We like yer comp'ny so all-fired well," answered Jacks, with a hoarse
laugh, "that we're goin' ter keep ye with us all night. Arter it gits
dark, we kin hang onter ye easier if ye're bottled up in that cut-out."
"You're a nice pair of grafters--I don't think," flared Chub.
"Somebody's goin' to settle for this business, and the more you pile it
on the more you'll pay."
"We're able ter pay all we'll have ter," grinned Jacks, "but jest now
you're follerin' my orders, _sabe_? Chase 'em in, Bisbee," he added, to
his companion.
"Shoo!" said Bisbee, and started forward, waving his weapon.
"You're a couple of cowards!" yelled Chub, doubling up his fists. "You
wouldn't dare shoot!"
"Come on, Chub," said Matt quietly, taking his chum's arm and leading
him into the notch. "We'll have our innings later."
"But I don't want to be hung up in here all night," demurred Chub.
"There's no tellin' what kind of a fix dad is in. We ought to be
hunting for him."
"Don't fret. They've left your father so he'll be all right until you
can find him, even if you can't take up the hunt until to-morrow. Just
let 'em think their bluff is working, that's all."
Bisbee, with the revolver on his knees, had taken up his position at
the front of the notch. From this position, even after it grew dark, he
would be able to keep the boys from emerging from the cut-out.
Matt and Chub sat down on a couple of stones and leaned back against
the steep wall behind them. Through the opening they could look out
toward the claim and see Jacks taking Perry's horse to the spring.
Saddle and bridle were stripped from the horse, and the animal was
secured with a long rope and picket-pin. After taking care of the
horse, Jacks went back to McReady's camp, started a fire, and began
getting supper.
"Consarn 'em!" growled Chub, "they're taking everything in sight."
"We'll not make any kick," answered Matt, "so long as they give us our
supper. I feel as though I'd been through a famine. Besides, we need
food for our night's work."
He dropped his voice, to make sure Bisbee could not hear.
"Night's work?" echoed Chub. "About all the work we'll do to-night,
Matt, will be to sit on these boulders and try to sleep."
"That's where you're wrong. When it's dark enough, and everything's
quiet, I'm going to climb out of here, fix up the _Comet_, and take
this location notice to Phoenix."
"Shucks! What's the use? Even if you succeeded, you couldn't reach town
before to-morrow. The other notice will have been recorded long before
then."
"I'll not say we're beaten until the recorder himself tells me it's too
late."
Admiration for his chum rose in Chub's eyes, although he shook his head
hopelessly.
"That's your style, Matt--you never seem to know when you're down and
out. How're you goin' to get out of here?"
Matt called Chub's attention to one of the side walls of the notch.
There was more of a slope to the wall there than anywhere else, and
Matt had already marked out his foot and hand holds, fixing half a
dozen projecting stones and two or three straggling bushes firmly in
his mind.
"In broad day," said Chub, "that climb would be hard enough, but at
night you'd be sure to fall and break your neck. Cut it out."
"I'm going to make a getaway to-night," declared Matt firmly.
"Why couldn't the two of us get the better of Bisbee? We could drop
on him during the night, and if we worked it right, that gun of his
wouldn't cut any figure."
"I'd thought of that," said Matt, "but I've got to skirmish around the
camp a little, you know, and tinker with the _Comet_. All that will
have to be done secretly. My way's the best, I think."
"You'll have to excuse little Chub from prancing up that precipice. He
thinks too much of his neck to risk it on any such fool stunt."
"When I'm ready to go I'll set up a yell. That will draw Bisbee and
Jacks after me, Chub, and you can walk out of this hole in the hill as
neat as you please."
That ended their talk for a while. Just then Jacks came to the opening
of the notch, and set down a tin cup of coffee and a plate of soaked
hardtack and fried bacon.
"Ye'll hev ter eat out o' the same dish an' drink out o' the same cup,"
said he. "This hotel's kinder short on plates an' cups. Howsumever, I
don't reckon ye're anyways partic'ler."
He withdrew with a jubilant flourish, and the two chums fell to on
their food. After it was eaten, both of them felt a hundred per cent.
better.
Night comes suddenly in that part of the Southwest. One minute it is
daylight, and almost the next the stars are out and the coyotes yelping.
As night advanced a deep quiet fell over the captives and their
captors. The horse and burro could be heard tramping around the spring,
but these sounds, and the occasional bark of a coyote, were all that
broke the stillness.
Bisbee, sitting by the entrance into the notch, was as upright and
silent as a black statue. Jacks, with a blanket under him, was lying
across the entrance and snoring. Midnight was passed and the hour had
come for Matt to make his attempt, so he reached over and touched his
chum on the shoulder.
"I'm off, old chap!" he whispered, his lips close to Chub's ear. "I've
tied my shoes together by the laces and they're hanging around my
neck--I can climb better and make less noise in my stocking-feet."
Chub reached out his hand and wrung Matt's fervently.
"I think it's foolish for you to try to get that notice to Phoenix, old
chum," he answered, "but I appreciate what you're tryin' to do for the
McReadys, just the same. If ever a fellow was true to his friends, it's
a cinch that it's Motor Matt."
"I hate to pull out and leave you, Chub," went on Matt, "but there's
only one motor-cycle, you know, and, besides, you can't leave here
until you find out about your father."
"That's all to the good. We've got to separate. Good-by and good luck."
"Be ready to run when you hear me yell," finished Matt. "So-long, Chub."
It was as dark as a pocket in the notch, and Chub could not see Matt as
he moved noiselessly across to the other wall. Presently, by straining
his ears, Chub could hear muffled sounds--a sifting downward of sand,
the faint crunch of a loose stone under a stockinged foot, a stifled
breathing, as of some one working hard and trying to work quietly.
Steadily the sounds mounted up and up. Chub, holding his breath, fixed
his eyes on the blank darkness and waited. He almost fell off his
boulder when he saw the blurred form of Bisbee lean forward, and heard
him call:
"What ye doin' in thar, you two?"
"What's the matter with you?" retorted the quick-witted Chub. "We're
tired out and want to sleep. Move over a little, Matt," he added, as
though speaking to his chum, "you're takin' up more'n your half of the
wall."
The blurred form straightened again, and once more Chub began to
breathe. The sounds on the wall had ceased, and Chub began to count the
seconds and mentally to check off the minutes.
Five minutes--ten--fifteen. Chub wasn't at all sure he was reckoning
the time properly, but he began wondering what had become of his chum.
The opposite side of the notch was the slope of the hill itself, and
only child's play for Matt to get down. If he had got down, where was
he?
Chub reckoned up fifteen minutes more. His nerves were in rags and he
was imagining all sorts of wild things, when a booming shout came from
the distance.
"Good-by, Jacks! You thought you had us, but you've got another guess
coming!"
Bisbee leaped to his feet with a yell. Jacks broke off his snores
suddenly and lifted himself up.
"What's the matter?" he demanded.
"Them kids hev got away!" cried the startled Bisbee.
A clatter of hoofs, rapidly receding in the direction of the
pack-trail, could be heard.
"They've took the hoss!" yelped Jacks. "Consarn 'em, anyways! Why
didn't ye watch, hey? Come on! Mebby we kin stop 'em yit!"
Bisbee and Jacks scampered off into the shadows, talking and snarling
at each other as they ran. Chub, losing no time, laughed softly to
himself and hurried out of the notch.
It tickled him to think that Motor Matt's daring had won out, even
though there wasn't much hope of his getting to Phoenix in time to save
the claim. But why had Matt taken the horse? Chub had been expecting
the explosions of a gasoline motor rather than the patter of hoofs.