A Hold-up
As Jack looked down into the coach with his head thrust through the
window of the lantern, the view he was able to obtain of the contents
was infinitely clearer than that he had had when a dirty pane of glass
intervened between him and the interior. Almost directly beneath him was
the man holding his revolver levelled, while a little to the left, his
back propped against the side of the coach, was the prisoner. He was
heavily-moustached, and his clothes bore witness to the fact that he was
a railway employee. Farther off were the other two, young men to look
at, and from their general appearance hardly the class of individuals to
lend themselves to violence. But good looks are not always a criterion
of good manners. It was very clear that both were unscrupulous ruffians.
"Now yer can jest listen here, conductor," one of them was saying in
loud tones, so that the roar of the train should not drown his words,
and with a menace in his voice which there was no mistaking; "ye've got
ter weaken right now, and without any more bobbery, or----"
He wagged his head at the revolver, while the rascal who held the weapon
squinted along the sights.
"Or what?" demanded the prisoner, his voice calm, his courage unshaken.
"Or get what yer deserve. Yer've heard tell of us before, I guess; but
if yer ain't, why, we're Bill Buster's band, and that'll tell yer what
to look out for. Now all we want is an answer to a little question.
Whar's the strong box? Even if yer don't tell us, and we have to put
lead into your carcass, it won't make much difference, 'cos, we'll have
the whole train easy, and then it ain't hard to find the box. By tellin'
us, yer jest make the thing easier and quicker. Now, whar is it? Number
three coach? Eh?"
"Go and find fer yerselves," came the bold answer. "I ain't goin' to
say. Look for yerselves."
Sturdily the prisoner faced his captors, and it seemed that he would
remain stubborn. But a revolver held at the head of a defenceless man
has a way of persuading; for the threat these rascals had made was no
idle one. It was clear they would shoot the conductor without the
smallest compunction.
"Wall, a man has only one life, and so you'd better have the answer,"
said the conductor at last, after a painful pause. "Number four's the
wagon."
"Good! Thought you wasn't a fool," said the spokesman for the bandits.
"Now for the amount. It war clearin' day back thar, and the bank has
sent all the stuff it could spare. How much?"
"Guess it's not far short of twenty-five thousand dollars," said the
conductor grudgingly. "But thar ain't nothin' definite on the way-bills.
One jest gets ter kind of hear."
"Twenty-five thousand," cried the leader of the men below, a note of
triumph in his voice. "And thar's fifty-six passengers in all. Take 'em
at ten dollars a head, which is a small allowance; that means quite five
hundred dollars more. But they'll have a heap, some of 'em. They're
goin' down to buy farms, and stock, and sich like. Now look ye here,
conductor. Ye're a sensible man, as yer've proved, and we ain't got no
grudge agin yer, so long as yer don't get up ter no tricks. Ef yer do,
my mate here'll have a talk with yer slippy."
"Yer ain't got any cause ter bother," came the answer. "Do I look as if
I could do anything?"
The conductor cast his eyes down at the cords which bound him hand and
foot, and then laughed harshly.
"Reckon it'll mean a lost job to me," he said. "But give me a smoke. One
of yer may happen ter have a weed."
One of the conspirators produced a cigar promptly, bit off the end, and,
having placed it in the conductor's mouth, held a light to the weed.
"What I call a sensible man," said the leader of the ruffians. "Now we
can git ter thinking serious of this affair. Number four's the wagon.
Jim, ye'll make along fer that, and stand up at the far end. Tom here'll
drop to the rails and run to the engine. I'll be with Jim before the
train's stopped. She'll begin to go steadier soon, fer we're about at
the foot of the long draw-up, and the incline soon tells upon her. When
she's going slower you two can slip on to the footboards and make along
to the first coach. I'll jest bring her up with the screw brake. That's
clear? Then best have a look to see how the boards lie."
From the manner in which the rascals set about their work of raiding the
train it was clear that they were old hands. The two told off to go
forward did not trouble to wait till the pace had diminished. They threw
open the door of the coach and swung themselves out on to the
footboards. Then they moved along them with an ease which put Jack's
efforts to shame, and, having reached the second coach, sat down on the
boards. By then the train was well on the incline, and the pace was
getting less. Half a mile farther on she was making only twenty miles an
hour.
"Jest the moment fer me," said the man who had remained in the coach.
"I'll give her the brake. Now mind it that yer don't interfere,
conductor. Ef yer do, it'll mean a case of shootin'."
As cool as an icicle the man stepped across to the big wheel which
controlled the tail brake of the train, and swung it round till it was
hard on. Instantly the screech of the slippers on the wheels could be
heard, while a line of fire sprang from the surface of the rails.
"That'll do it in five minutes or less," said the man, thrusting his
head out of the open door. "No engine will be able ter pull agin it. So
long! and don't git interferin'."
He, too, swung himself out of the coach, leaving the prisoner alone,
with Jack still staring in through the lantern. And let the reader
imagine for a moment the struggle going on in our hero's mind. Once
before, but a short while ago, he had endeavoured to thwart a crime, to
come between robbers and their prey; and he himself had been accused of
the crime he was attempting to put a stop to. The bitterness of that
bitter experience was still with him. It had clouded his young life,
till he could think of little else. And here he was face to face with a
similar experience, a crime about to be committed, and he alone to stand
between the passengers on the train and the ruffians about to rob them.
It was, indeed, a struggle. Jack was not naturally indecisive. He could
make up his mind when he liked, and quickly too. But it must be owned
that he hesitated. Fear of another terrible misunderstanding haunted
him. Then he thought of the passengers, of the man below, and of his
responsibility. In a moment he was clambering in through the window in
the lantern, and a second later dropped down into the coach.
"My! What, another!"
The conductor had taken him for one of the gang, and looked at him with
scowling face.
"No," cried Jack emphatically. "I heard all they said, and I've come to
help you. There!"
He drew his knife and cut the cords, setting the man free.
"Now," he said, "I've taken the first step. I'm willing to do what you
may suggest."
"But--but how on airth did yer get thar, up in the lantern?" asked the
conductor. "Aer you a passenger?"
"Yes and no," answered our hero boldly. "I climbed aboard when the train
was going, and got on the back of this coach. But I'd seen you tied up
when I looked in through the window. I thought I'd help."
"And so ye've risked bein' shot by those villains. Lad, ye've grit in
you. Shake a paw. Now, what's ter be done? The train's almost stopping.
Ah, swing that wheel back! My hands and arms are too numbed to do it.
That'll let the pace git up agin, and possibly leave one of the men
behind. Next thing is to make along to the other coaches. Pull that er
drawer open. Thar's a couple of shooters thar, and they're ready
loaded."
Jack followed the man's orders swiftly, and felt the train gathering way
already. Then he brought the revolvers.
"Get a grip of one yerself," said the conductor. "Now jest rub these
arms of mine. That's the way. There's a bit more feelin' in 'em already.
In a little I'll have a grip, and then we'll give them rascals sauce.
Aer yer afraid?"
"No, I don't reckon I am," answered Jack. "I'll help you."
"Then come along. Stick the shooter in your pocket and grip the rail.
But I forgot, yer've had experience jest lately. One warnin' though
before we move. Ef yer get a sight of those fellers, shoot! Don't wait.
Shoot!"
Our hero nodded, and made up his mind to do as he was told. He waited
for the conductor to get on to the footboard, and followed promptly.
Very soon they had gained the next coach.
"Next's Number four," shouted the conductor. "Let's get on the roof. We
can make along there easier, and reach 'em better. Did yer hear that?
They're at it."
The sharp sound of a pistol shot came to the ears of the two, and after
it a shrill cry. They scrambled to the top of the coach as quickly as
possible, and then went on hands and knees, and made their way along
it. At the far end they descended by means of the iron steps and rails,
and again took to the footboards.
"Now get ready fer shootin'," shouted the conductor. "Thar'll be a man
posted at this end, and I'm going to fire through the window at him.
Jest be prepared to hop right in and take a shot at the others."
Jack hung to the step, closely hugging the coach, and watched the figure
of the conductor as he scrambled farther along. He saw him stand to his
full height and peer in through a window. His revolver was raised
swiftly, and then there came a sharp crack from the inside of the coach.
The conductor dropped from the footboards without a sound, and Jack
caught a fleeting glimpse of his body bounding over the side track. He
was alone now, and the safety or otherwise of the passengers depended
upon him.
"I'll do it," he said to himself, his blood afire, and all hesitation
gone. "If I break in through the door I shall be dropped for a
certainty. And if I attempt to shoot through the window I shall meet
with the conductor's fate. I'll try the roof again."
He went scrambling up, and within a minute had reached one of the round
lanterns through which the lamps were dropped. Lifting the lid, he found
he had a fair view of the interior, for there was no lamp in this
lantern, and in those days the apertures were very large when compared
with modern fittings. Directly below him he detected a carpeted floor
and one end of a seat, while a pair of legs stretched over the carpet.
They evidently belonged to some unfortunate individual who had been
shot.
"Likely enough the one whose call we heard," thought Jack. "Now, let me
think. From his position he fell on to his back. He didn't tumble face
downwards and then roll over. That means that the man who shot him is
somewhere underneath me. I'll lean over and get a better view."
He was in the act of thrusting his head into the wide lantern, when
sounds at the side of the track caught his attention. Even in spite of
the roar of the train he heard shouts, while an instant later the
darkness was punctuated by red flashes. At the same time he became aware
of the disagreeable fact that the spluttering, hissing sounds round
about him were caused by bullets. Then he grasped the significance of
the situation.
"Gee!" he cried. "Then they are the friends of those three rascals who
boarded the cars. Now I see through the whole business. They were to tie
up the conductor, and then put the brakes on. That would bring the train
to a halt on the incline, and those men out there would ride up and
support the robbery. Ah! They're done nicely! We've run through them. We
shall see what's going to happen."
If Jack was elated one cannot blame him. But if he thought he was going
to master the difficult situation without further trouble he was much
mistaken. He thrust his head into the lantern and took a careful survey
of the interior of the coach. Now he could see the complete figure of
the man lying on his back, and saw that he was dead. There were four
other persons near him, crouching on the seat, and two were ladies. Just
a little farther back, almost beneath where his own feet lay, a man
stood with arms folded. He was tall, sunburned--for that Jack could see,
since he was bareheaded--and had a pair of fine flowing moustaches. His
arms were crossed on his breast, and his whole attitude was one of
resolution. A further effort on our hero's part showed him the muzzle of
a revolver, held within six inches of the tall man's head, and finally
of the figure of one of the robbers.
Should he fire now? Was he to shoot the man down in cold blood as it
were, though to speak the truth Jack's pulses were tingling. Was that
fair play?
Who will blame the young American that he hesitated to take life? He
waited a second, and that wait nearly proved his undoing. The robber
caught a glimpse of him, and at once sent a stream of bullets through
the roof. They tore through the boards on every side, sending the
splinters flying, and drumming against the ironwork of the lantern, and
by the merest chance they missed Jack.
"But he'll have me if I ain't extra smart," thought our hero, determined
more than ever now to get the best of the man. "Ah, here's something to
give me a hold! I'll try through the window."
He gripped a short smokestack which projected through the roof, and
holding firmly with one hand leaned over the side of the car. A window
was directly beneath, and well within his reach. Jack broke it with the
butt of his revolver without the smallest hesitation. Then, quick as
lightning, he returned to the lantern on top. One glance told him that
the man inside was standing prepared to fire, either through the window
or through the lantern.
"I'll make him think of the lantern," thought Jack. "It's my only chance
now."
Stretched full length on the roof, with his head depending downwards, he
once more gripped the smokestack, and leaned over the edge of the car.
Then he deliberately kicked the lantern with his feet, and continued to
drum his toes against it. Now was the time. He stretched over till he
could obtain a clear view of the interior of the coach through the
window, and at once caught sight of the robber standing in the same
position as before, his eye half-fixed on the lantern, and half on the
tall man standing so close to him. Up went Jack's revolver, though
aiming was out of the question considering his inverted position. His
finger went to the trigger just as the rascal within caught sight of
him. And then Jack pressed unconsciously, while at the same instant the
cracked glass to his right was shivered into thousands of fragments and
a cloud of cutting dust was blown into his face.
"Gee! Got him! But I do believe he's managed to hit me. Seems mighty
like it. Ugh! My shoulder!"
[Illustration: "HE SAW THE RASCAL CRUMPLE INTO A HEAP"]
As if in a dream he saw the rascal within the coach crumple into a heap,
and watched the tall man dart forward and bend over him. Then a sharp,
burning pain shot through his own shoulder, and for one brief instant
made him feel faint. But it was no safe place in which to encourage
weakness, and with an effort Jack braced himself to the task still
before him. He scrambled back on to the roof, slid to the end, and
descended the swaying steps. Then he clutched his way along the
footboard, and gained the door of the coach. It was opened by the man he
had seen standing with his arms so resolutely folded.
"Come right in! come right in!" he cried, extending a hand. "Now, where
are the others?"
Jack was winded with his exertions, but managed to answer. "One was to
have gone forward to the engine," he said quickly, "and one was to make
for this coach, where the third would join him. Where they are now I
don't know. The conductor was tied hand and foot, but I released him.
But he was hit, and dropped from the train. I think we ran through the
men who were waiting to help them."
"Then we've had a fine escape," came the answer. "But we've got to take
those men, and the sooner the better. Get a pull on that cord, and then
be ready to shoot. They'll drop from the coaches the first chance they
have, and git for their lives."
Jack tugged at the alarm fitted just outside the window, and presently
the brakes began to grind and the train to slow down. As it did so two
figures dropped from it and raced away, Jack and his companion firing at
them, while a number of passengers in other coaches did the same. Then
lamps were brought, and an inspection made.
"Guess we're lucky, down right lucky!" exclaimed the man whom Jack had
spoken to. "Thar's one man killed in this coach. He swung round when
this rascal entered, and put his hand to his shooter. That was quite
enough to bring a bullet his way. Reckon there wasn't a move left in the
rest of us. The fellow had it all his own way. A chap can't grope for
his shootin' iron when a revolver's grinnin' at him. What's the news
elsewhere?"
"Much the same as yourn," came from a passenger. "We were kind er
dozing, and I'd jest begun ter wonder why in thunder the chap behind had
put on his brakes so hard, specially when we were on a sharp incline,
when the door bursts open, and a young chap climbs in smart. 'Hands up!'
he says, just as quiet as may be, and 'hands up!' it had ter be. We was
cornered. That young chap was Bill Buster, as he'd got to be called
hereabouts, one of the expertest leaders of railway breakers and thieves
that's ever been. What's the driver say?"
"I ain't heard nothing," came from the latter, who stood inside the
coach rubbing his dirty hands with a piece of waste. "I wondered why the
conductor had put on his brakes, 'cos it ain't too easy a job to pull
out over the rise, particular when thar's a heavy train like this. But
he took 'em off quick, and so we was able to pull along. Seems thar's
been shootin'."
"Shootin'! Rather! And it ain't the fault of the rascals as came aboard
that thar wasn't more," said the tall man. "We owe it to this here young
stranger that things ain't worse. How'd it all come about? Didn't see
you climb aboard way back there."
"Because I climbed aboard down the road," answered Jack boldly, the old
frankness in his eyes, his face flushed with delight and triumph. For
success had at last come his way. Though he hesitated to interfere at
first, frightened by the cruel disappointment of that other experience,
he had in the end undertaken what was clearly his duty, as it would have
been the duty of any other person similarly placed. And success had come
his way, though in gaining it he had incurred danger. His head was well
set back on his shoulders, his eyes flashed, and Jack Kingsley looked
his old, bonny self as he answered:
"I got aboard after she'd started, and managed to reach the conductor's
coach. When I took a peep inside, there he was, tied up like a sack,
with three men sitting over him. That's one of the fellows."
He nodded towards the body lying on the floor, and wondered vaguely
whether it was his bullet which had struck him, and, if so, where. Then,
leaning against the woodwork of the coach, he continued:
"So I climbed to the roof," he said, "and managed to hear what was going
on. You see, there's a large lantern back there, and it has a window in
it. I learned all about the attack, and saw the robbers separate while
the last put on the brakes hard. Then I slipped in quick."
"Yes," came eagerly from the assembled passengers.
"There ain't much more," said Jack lamely. "The conductor led the way
along to coach Number four, and I followed. He was shot. Guess he's way
back there on the track, and needs our help. I climbed right up on to
the roof, and--and the gentlemen here knows the rest."
"Gee! I do. This young chap never'll have a nearer shave. There's many a
grown man who would have funked it," exclaimed the tall man, "funked it,
I say. But he bamboozled that fellow. How'd yer manage?"
Jack explained, lamely, that he had gripped the smokestack and kicked
the lantern with his feet.
"Smart! real smart!" exclaimed the tall passenger, while a chorus of
approval came from the others. "Say, siree, who may yer be, and where
aer yer goin'? Yer ain't fer the plains?"
"I'm a smith," answered Jack limply, for his wound was very painful, and
the carriage excessively hot.
"A smith, and--here, what's the matter with the lad? Let him sit down.
Did the rascal wing yer?"
The big man gripped our hero in his arms as if he were a child, and laid
him on the seat. Then he bent over him and spoke softly.
"Whar's the hit?" he asked. "Ah, thar ain't no more need ter ask!"
Suddenly his eyes had detected the dark stain trailing down Jack's
sleeve, while he noticed how limply the arm hung. Then his whole
attention was attracted to our hero, for Jack marked the occasion of
this success of his by fainting. He fell back heavily on the seat, and
lay there as deathly pale as the man from whom he had received the
bullet.