FRANK STARTS FOR HOME.
The sergeant's words produced the utmost consternation among those who
heard them.
The boys turned white with terror, and cast anxious glances toward the
surrounding swells, momentarily expecting to see a band of hostile
warriors rise over their summits and swoop down upon them.
Eben was alarmed, too; but he did not show it as plainly as his
companions did.
"There aint a word of truth in it," he said. "I have been along this
trail more'n a hundred times, and never saw no Injuns yet. They
wouldn't be roaming about the plains at this season of the year,
anyway. They are up on the Big Horn, getting ready for winter."
"But what did the soldier mean when he said that we will do well if we
reach Julesburg?" asked Frank in a trembling voice.
"He meant that it was going to snow," replied the hunter. "But I can
read the signs like a book, and I know it won't snow for a week yet.
But even if it does storm, we don't care, for we shall be in Julesburg
to-morrow."
With this answer, Eben tried to turn the conversation into another
channel, but the boys, being terribly frightened, could talk about
nothing but Indians, and speculate upon their chances of reaching a
place of safety.
The hunter stood it as long as he could, and then said, almost savagely:
"If there were Injuns about, you wouldn't see so many single wagons
along the road. The emigrants would wait for one another, and make up a
strong train, so that they could defend themselves."
Leon, who had all faith in the hunter, was somewhat reassured by
these words, but Frank's terror increased every time he recalled the
sergeant's warning.
Just before dark they passed a camp on the bank of a little stream, and
Frank urged Eben to stop there, so that they could have company during
the night; but the hunter, following his usual custom, rode by at a
gallop, and as Leon went with him, Frank had to follow or be left alone.
"I can't stand this any longer, and I won't, either," said Frank to
himself, as he galloped along behind his companions. "But after all, I
don't see how I am going to help myself. I have waited and watched for
an opportunity to get my hands on that money ever since we left St.
Joe, and I haven't seen a ghost of a chance."
Frank was almost ready to cry with vexation and alarm. He did not know
what to do; but as it happened, a way was most unexpectedly opened for
him to carry out his plans that very night.
Eben kept his horse in a gallop until the emigrant's camp was left at
least five miles behind, and then, drawing rein in a little clump of
willows, announced that they would stop there until morning.
The weary boys swung themselves from their saddles, and set about the
performance of certain duties that had been assigned them when the
journey first began.
Frank's business was to cut wood enough to keep the fire burning all
night, and although he appeared to work industriously, he spent more
than half his time in watching his cousin's movements.
He saw him take his saddle-bags from his horse, lift up the flap that
covered one of the pockets and thrust his hand into the bag.
Then he placed the bags upon the ground near the spot on which the fire
was to be built, and piled his saddle, blankets, and overcoat upon
them, taking care to arrange all the articles in such a position that
he could tell at a glance if any of them had been disturbed.
"He has done that every noon and night for the last week," soliloquized
Frank, "and now I am satisfied that the money is in those saddle-bags.
Mine look exactly like his, and if I see a chance I'll exchange with
him and leave. I am sure I could find my way back to that emigrant's
camp, and perhaps I could induce him to let me ride in his wagon as far
as St. Joe."
The supper, consisting of bacon and crackers which Leon had purchased
at one of the mail stations, was ready in due time, and when it had
been disposed of the travellers lay down beside the fire--Eben on
his soldier's overcoat and the boys on their blankets--and talked
themselves to sleep--that is, Leon and the hunter went to sleep, but
Frank kept wide awake. He had no intention of closing his eyes that
night.
Before lying down, Leon had placed his saddle-bags across his saddle
in the same position they occupied when he was on horseback, and the
pocket which contained the money was under his shoulders, while his
head rested in the hollow of the saddle, which he used as a pillow.
These precautions almost disheartened Frank, who, for six long hours,
lay there, within easy reach of his cousin, revolving in his mind
various plans for obtaining possession of the coveted treasure.
Two or three times he reached out his hand and tried to pull the
saddle-bags from under Leon's shoulders, but every time he did so Leon
stirred in his sleep, and Frank was obliged to desist.
He was almost ready to give up in despair, when, to his great joy,
his cousin, in tossing about and trying to find a more comfortable
position, rolled partly off his rude bed.
Frank was prompt to seize upon the opportunity thus presented, for it
was now or never.
As quick as thought, he drew the saddle-bags toward him, unbuckled the
flap, and plunged his hand in the pocket.
As he did so, his fingers came in contact with something wrapped up in
a piece of paper.
Hardly able to suppress the cry of exultation that arose to his lips,
he seized upon it, and, raising himself to his knees, untied the paper
with hands that trembled violently.
The fire, which the hunter had replenished several times during the
night, was burning brightly, and, by the aid of the light it threw out,
Frank saw that he had found what he wanted.
The next thing was to leave the camp without arousing either of his
companions.
[Illustration: FRANK STEALS THE MONEY.]
Hastily buckling the flap, he pushed the saddle-bags back to their
place, and arose to his feet.
He spent a moment in arranging his blankets, so that anyone who took
a casual glance at them would believe that they covered a human form,
took his overcoat on his arm, picked up his rifle and accoutrements,
which he had placed at the head of his bed, and stole silently away
into the darkness.
He walked a few rods with noiseless footsteps, and then, breaking into
a run, flew over the ground at a rate of speed he had never equalled
before.
"I've got it! I've got it at last!" he kept whispering to himself;
"and if I can only keep it, I am sure of seeing home and friends once
more. I _will_ keep it. I'll fight till I drop before I'll give it up.
I am rather sorry that I had to take it all, but I was afraid that if
I stopped to divide it, one or the other of them would wake up and
discover me. Well, Leon stands in no need of it, for he doesn't want to
go home. Besides, he has Eben to take care of him, while I must look
out for myself."
The boy would have been greatly amazed if anyone had told him that the
hunter had been laying his plans to do just what he (Frank) had done.
Eben never intended to guide the boys to Fort Laramie. His object was
to lead them into the wilderness beyond Julesburg, where there were but
few wagons to be met at that season of the year, steal Leon's money and
Frank's rifle and blankets, and leave them to shift for themselves. But
Frank got the start of him, and we shall see what the hunter did about
it.
Frank very soon ran himself out of breath, and was obliged to settle
down into a walk.
Knowing that his absence would ere long be discovered, and that
an effort would be made to overtake him and recover the money, he
stopped frequently to listen for sounds of pursuit, holding himself in
readiness to leave the trail and seek a hiding-place in the grass if he
heard the sound of horses' hoofs. But Leon and the hunter still slept
soundly, and Frank went on his way unmolested.
The five miles that lay between his own camp and the camp of the
emigrant seemed to have lengthened out wonderfully since Frank passed
that way, but just as the day was breaking he came within sight of the
canvas cover of the wagon, and saw the light of the camp-fire shining
through it.
Breaking into a run, he dashed up to the wagon, creating no little
excitement among the emigrant's children, who ran to their mother and
clung to her dress for protection.
The woman looked up from her cooking, the man, who was harnessing his
mules, faced suddenly about, and both stared at him, as if to ask what
he meant by his intrusion.
"My friend," said Frank, speaking rapidly, and keeping his gaze
directed down the trail in the direction from which he had come, "will
you do a favor for me?"
"Anything in reason," was the encouraging reply.
"Thank you," said Frank gratefully. "Do you see this rifle? It cost
forty dollars in Boston. I will give it to you if you will let me
hide in your wagon and ride with you until we reach one of the
mail-stations. I have a little money in my possession, and am in danger
of being robbed."
"Mercy preserve us!" exclaimed the emigrant's wife.
"You see," continued Frank, "I started from St. Joe, intending to go to
Fort Laramie, but I have seen enough of this Western country, and now I
want to go home."
"I don't blame you," said the emigrant. "We want to go home, too."
"Then you can imagine how I should feel if I were robbed and left
stranded here on the plains. I assure you that if you will let me go
with you and hide in your wagon until all danger is past----"
At this moment Frank discovered something moving rapidly along the
trail, about half a mile away.
He looked closely at it, and saw that it was a horseman, who was urging
his way forward at full speed.
"That's Eben," said he, in a husky voice. "He is the man who wants to
rob me. Don't you believe a word he says to you. If he asks you about
me, tell him that you haven't seen me."
So saying, Frank sprang into the wagon and began covering himself up
with the bedding that was scattered over the bottom.
In a second more he was concealed, boots and all.
"If we tell him that, we'll be lying," said the woman thoughtfully.
"Well, mebbe it would be stretching things just a little," said the man
slowly, "but in a case like this--that's a mighty fine rifle of his'n,
Jane, and squirrels are plenty in Kaintuck."
"And this rifle will bring them out of the tallest hickory in the
woods," said Frank, sticking his head out from under the quilts for a
moment, and then drawing it hastily back again.
The emigrant once more turned his attention to his mules, the woman
went on with her preparations for breakfast, and presently the horseman
galloped up to the camp and drew rein.