JED HOPKINS, PHOENIX
For an instant, Allan stared stupidly at those red tongues of flame,
licking merrily about the door--then, in a flash, he understood, and his
pulses seemed to stop. The robbers had set fire to the station! It was in
this way they proposed to get rid of the evidences of a crime far more
serious than robbery. And thus, too, they hoped to get rid of the only
witness of that crime not implicated in it--and then Allan remembered--it
was not the robbers, it was Dan Nolan who had left him here to die--Nolan
who had been told to place him in safety, and who had pretended to do
so! He remembered Nolan's last words, the chuckle which had accompanied
them,--all this passed lightning-like through the boy's mind, as a
drowning man, in the moment before he loses consciousness, sees before
him his whole life, in a kind of wonderful and fearful panorama.
And, indeed, Allan was as near death as any drowning man--and a death
infinitely more horrible. Only for a breath did he lie there passive,
staring at the flames; then he strained and tugged at his bonds,
regardless of torn flesh, of bleeding wrists, of aching muscles, but the
knots held firmly. Finally, still tight to the chair, he managed to turn
upon his hands and knees and to drag himself, inch by inch, toward the
door which opened into the waiting-room. Would he reach it in time? He
scarcely dared hope so, for the other door was crackling and smoking,
threatening every instant to burst into a sheet of flame.
He _did_ reach it, somehow, and raised himself to turn the knob and open
it, when from behind him there came a blood-curdling yell, the smoking
door burst open and a frantic apparition plunged through the sheet of
flame, snatched open the other door before which Allan crouched, and,
catching the boy by the collar as it passed, hurled itself on across
the waiting-room and through the outer door to safety. There it dropped
the boy heavily beside the track, and threw itself into a pool of muddy
water, left by the rain of the evening before. In this it wallowed and
rolled, as though enjoying the utmost luxury of the bath, and Allan,
watching it, began to fancy it some kind of monstrous amphibian.
But at last the monster rose, shook itself, and a hoarse voice issued
from it.
"Thought they had Jed Hopkins, did they? Shoot him an' burn him--bound t'
git him some way! Not this time, gentlemen! Oh, no, not this time," and
Jed rubbed his hand over his head, leaving himself almost bald, for his
hair had been scorched off.
He stood an instant watching the flames. Then he remembered Allan, and
strode toward him.
"Hello, kid," he said. "What'd they do to you?"
The gag prevented Allan from uttering more than a hoarse grunt by way of
answer.
Jed stooped down and looked at him more closely.
"Gagged, by gum!" he said, and reaching around behind the boy's head, had
the gag loose in a moment. "Not dead, eh?" he asked.
"No," answered Allan, smiling despite his wounds. "Only knocked up a
little."
"An' tied up, too," added Jed, seeing the ropes for the first time. "I
thought there was something queer about you when I dragged you out, but I
didn't hev time t' stop an' inquire what it was. There you are," and he
drew a knife from his pocket and severed the ropes. "Kin you stand up?"
He helped the boy to his feet, and after a moment of uncertainty, the
latter was able to stand alone.
"Oh, I guess you ain't much hurt," said Jed, cheerfully. "Where'd all
this gore come from?" and he indicated the boy's shirt, the front of
which was fairly soaked with blood.
"From my nose," answered Allan, smiling again.
"Oh, that's good fer ye!" Jed assured him. "Banged you on th' nose, did
they? Break it?"
"I don't know," and Allan touched it tenderly. "It's pretty sore."
"Let's see," said Jed, and seizing the swollen organ, he wiggled it back
and forth, not regarding the boy's pained protest. "No, it ain't broke,"
he announced, after a moment. "Hurt any place else?"
"I think not," Allan replied, feeling himself all over. "Nothing more
than a few bruises, at least. But aren't _you_ hurt? I thought you were
dead."
Jed passed his hand over his head again, and laughed.
"So did that feller who put his pistol to my head an' pulled th'
trigger," he said. "You see, they all piled on me so that it wasn't fer
some time I could git an arm loose an' git my gun out."
"I thought the station was coming down," Allan remarked, "from the noise
you made. It felt like an earthquake."
"Yes, we _did_ bump around considerable. Well, when I got my gun out, I
jest fired it into th' air sort o' haphazard, an' winged one o' them."
"Through the hand; it was he who shot at you."
"He didn't take no chance," said Jed. "He made a lucky kick in th' dark
an' caught me right on th' wrist an' knocked th' pistol clean out o' my
hand. Then I felt th' cold muzzle of a revolver pressin' agin my head,
an' I reckoned Jed Hopkins's time was up. Then I didn't know no more till
th' fire begun t' burn one hand, an' that woke me up."
"But how does it come you weren't killed?"
"Mebbe my skull's too thick fer a ordinary pistol-ball t' make a hole in.
But I remember jerkin' my head away, an' I reckon th' ball hit me a kind
o' glance blow, jest enough t' stun me. You kin see how it parted my hair
fer me."
He held down his head, and Allan saw, furrowed in the scalp, a raw and
bleeding wound.
"If you happen t' have a handkercher in yer pocket," Jed added, "mebbe
you'd better tie it up till I have time t' git it sewed t'gether."
Allan got out his handkerchief and tenderly bandaged the wound as well as
he was able.
"I reckon I'll be bald fer quite awhile," remarked Jed, when that
operation was finished. "You see, my hat was knocked off in th' scuffle,
an' my hair was jest ketchin' fire. I reckon I didn't come to any too
soon."
"Well," said Allan, "I'm glad you came to when you did, not only for your
sake, but for my own. You saved my life, too, you know."
"Oh, shucks!" Jed protested. "Not a bit of it. You'd 'a' got out all
right. But I'm wastin' time. I've got t' hike away on th' trail o' them
robbers. Hello! Here comes help!"
The station was by this time almost wholly in flames, which shot high
into the air and were reflected on the clouds. The light had been
observed in the village and everybody turned out of bed, awakened by
the shouts, and started for the scene of the fire. The volunteer fire
company, which possessed an antiquated hand-pump engine, got it out and
yanked it along over the muddy road, although, if they had stopped to
think, they would have known that there was no available water within
reach of the station. However, at such a time, very few people do stop to
think. It was, perhaps, a just punishment for their thoughtlessness that
the members of the fire company were forced to tug the heavy engine back
to the village by themselves, after the fire was over,--the populace,
which had been only too eager to pull at the ropes on the outward trip,
utterly refusing to lay a hand to them on the way back.
At the end of fifteen minutes, the station was surrounded by a seething
mass of people, who understood imperfectly what had happened and applied
their imaginations to supplying the details. It was Jed Hopkins who, in
spite of his blistered face and scorched head, took the leadership and
selected twenty men to form a posse to pursue the robbers. And just as
this ceremony was completed, the midnight train pulled in and nearly a
score of armed men leaped off, headed by the sheriff of Athens County.
He explained his presence in a moment. The dispatcher at Wadsworth,
immediately upon receiving Allan's warning, had called up the sheriff
at Athens, told him of the robbery, and asked him to swear in a body
of deputies and proceed to the scene on the first train. He had also
wisely concluded that where there had been so much fighting, there were
doubtless some wounds to dress, and the company's surgeon, armed with
lint, bandages, and what not, had come down from Athens with the posse.
He set to work at once dressing the injuries which Allan and Jed Hopkins
had sustained; while two linemen, who had come by the same train, started
in to straighten out the tangle of wires and reestablish telegraphic
communication. The operator who was to relieve Allan was also on the
train, so the boy was free to return home, when he wished.
But he had no such intention.
"I'm going along," he announced to Jed, as that worthy emerged, his head
elaborately bandaged, from under the hands of the surgeon.
"All right, kid," Jed agreed, good-naturedly. "Kin you ride?"
"Not very well; but I'll manage to stick on."
"Sure you kin stand it?" and Jed looked at him thoughtfully.
"If I can't, I'll drop out."
"Well, come along; you were in at th' beginnin' an' it's no more'n fair
you should be in at th' end. Besides, you'll be useful identifyin'
suspects. You're th' only one that seen 'em--they were on me afore I had
my eyes open. But I left a mark on one of 'em--that'll help. You say it
went through his hand?"
"Right through his hand, I heard him tell one of the others."
"Good; that won't be easy to rub away! Now, men," Jed went on, "we'll
divide into two parties. You men who come with th' sheriff are armed, so
you kin start at once. Th' robbers drove off along this road. You start
ahead, an' I'll go up to th' mine an' git arms fer my men an' as many
hosses as I kin find, an' we'll come right after you."
The men murmured assent and started off along the road, the sheriff in
the lead.
"But how can they ever catch them?" asked Allan, as he watched them
disappear in the darkness.
"Ever hear th' story of th' turtle an' th' rabbit?" queried Jed.
"Yes--but this rabbit isn't going to go to sleep."
"Well, they'll have t' sleep sometime. Besides, we've got a messenger
that kin go a million miles to their one," and he motioned toward the
wires overhead.
"You mean the telegraph?"
"Sure. Th' fust thing fer you to do is t' write out th' best description
ye kin of them robbers, an' have it sent over th' wire jest as soon as
it's fixed. It ort t' go to every police station an' tellygraft office
within fifty mile o' here. By mornin', every road ort t' be guarded, and
them fellers'll have to be mighty slick t' slip through. Meanwhile, we
keep a-follerin' 'em an' pushin' 'em on, an' purty soon they're caught
between two fires. See?"
Allan nodded. He began to perceive that there was not so much urgency in
starting off after the robbers as he had thought. The first thing was to
spread the net, and then to drive them into it.
"An' remember t' make th' description as full as ye kin," added Jed.
"Don't leave out th' bullet-hole. Every little helps. Ye didn't happen t'
know any of 'em, did ye?"
"I recognized one of them," answered Allan, in a low voice, "and I
believe I know the others. They're those convicts who got away from the
penitentiary not long ago."
"Th' deuce they are!" cried Jed, slapping his thigh. "Oh, this is too
easy--this is child's play! Why, we've got 'em sure--every police-station
in th' State has got their photygrafts! Git that off jest as quick as ye
kin, an' then wait fer us here. We've got t' come back this way, from th'
mine, an' I'll bring an extry hoss fer you."
"All right," agreed Allan, and Jed led his men away into the darkness.
A gasoline torch, hung to one of the telegraph-poles, flared and
sputtered above the boy's head, as he sat down on a rock beside the
track to write the description required of him. At the top of the pole,
silhouetted against the sky, he could see the linemen labouring to make
the connection. The operator had already found an old box, placed it
at the foot of the pole, and screwed his instrument down to it, ready
to commence work. Indeed, he had gone farther than that, and attached
to the inside of the box a hook for orders--for that box would no doubt
represent the Coalville station for some days to come.
Allan got from him a sheet of paper, braced his back against the pole,
and began to write, using his knee as a table; he described the men as
accurately as he could; then, with compressed lips, he added that in
company with the gang was Dan Nolan, a prisoner parolled from the Ohio
penitentiary, and that from some words he had overheard, he believed
the other men to be the convicts who had escaped from there about a
week before. As Jed Hopkins had said, every police-station in the State
already had photographs of these men, and it did not seem possible that
they could escape the net which this description would draw around them.
Suddenly the instrument on the box began to chatter, and Allan knew the
connection had been made. As he read over his description, his ears
mechanically caught the first words spelled out on the instrument, and
his eyes clouded with sudden tears, for the words were:
"Is West safe?"
"Yes," the operator answered. "He's right here writing a description of
the robbers."
"O. K. Let's have it," clicked the instrument, and Allan handed the
description over.
As he leaned forward, it seemed to him that something burst in his side;
there was an instant's rending pain, which wrung from him an agonized
cry; then merciful nature intervened, and he fell back unconscious upon
the ground.