UNDERGROUND.
Leonard had scarcely left the shore two rods behind him when his
pursuer reached the point where he had leaped into the boat.
Pausing a moment and retracing his steps, he ran to the base of a high
cliff of rocks, and again blew his whistle.
“Ratter! Beattie! Hawkins! Out here, quick! There’s work to do.”
“Hi! Snags, what is it?” responded a voice apparently coming from the
depths of the rock.
“I had a prisoner and he has flown. He is in a boat now, rowing for
dear life.”
“In a boat! How in thunder did you come to let him get a boat? Who is
he, anyhow?”
“Do not ask any questions, but be after him as quick as you can. He
must not escape!”
“Well, I’ll call the boys.”
“Confound it, you should not have to call them. Why didn’t you get
ready for action when you heard my first whistle?”
“Didn’t suppose there was going to be any trouble of this kind. You
ought to have watched him more careful――――”
“Well, well. Never mind that now. He is pulling away fast, and every
moment is precious.”
“Yes, we’re coming. Can’t you tell a fellow what kind of a job it is,
Snags?”
“No, not till I see Roake. I don’t know much about it myself yet. Only
it’s life or death to get that chap that’s leaving us so fast.”
By this time four men had emerged from an aperture in the rocks, and
were hastening to the shore.
“Take two boats, branch out, head him in――be sure that you catch him!”
shouted Snags, and before he had fairly ceased speaking, the pursuers
were pulling from the shore.
They rowed rapidly, and with a certainty and confidence that betokened
an intimate knowledge of the locality.
Snags now turned toward the perpendicular ascent of rock and entered
the aperture from which the men had emerged. He stepped into what was
apparently a small fissure in the rocks, overhung by a projecting crag.
He proceeded for some distance through a dark passage, and then emerged
into a large apartment, dimly lighted by a high, swinging lamp.
It was a cave, the walls of which on all sides were of dark-colored
rock, rough and uneven, with moisture oozing out here and there. The
ceiling was high, and from it was suspended by a wire the lamp, which
cast a ghostly and uncertain glimmer about.
Going directly across the apartment, he came to an opening which
branched off in the form of a long, narrow hall. This hall he traversed
for some distance, and finally halted before an iron door, over which
swung a small lamp.
He knocked. Receiving no answer, he knocked again, louder.
A volley of oaths greeted his ear, uttered in an angry tone.
Waiting until the storm had subsided, he said:
“Roake, let me in. It is I――Snags. Open the door.”
“What the duse is the matter?” uttered the voice, somewhat more mildly,
but still with vexation in the tone.
“I’ll tell you when I’m alone with you.”
A rattling at the latch was now heard, and the iron door swung open
heavily. It disclosed an apartment fifteen or twenty feet square,
which, like the rooms through which Snags had already passed, was
feebly illuminated.
On one side was a bed, and there were tables, chairs, a couch, and a
cupboard, in different parts of the room. Everything bore an untidy,
disorderly look.
As Snags entered, Roake said:
“I suppose everything worked all right――didn’t it?”
Instead of replying, Snags said, cautiously:
“I suppose the ♦‘Boss’ isn’t around, is he?”
“No, of course not. Why?”
“Nothing, only I’m afraid he wouldn’t be over and above pleased with
what I’ve had to do to-night.”
“What have you had to do?” said the other, sharply.
“Well, you see,” said Snags, drawing a long breath, “I got up to the
grove about twelve o’clock, and went to the window mentioned. There was
a light in the room, and there sat the colonel, writing. I could just
see this through a corner of the curtain, which was turned up a little.
He wrote more’n an hour, and I out there waiting for him to get through.
But he didn’t get through, and I was revolving in my mind a change of
tactics, when he got up.
“He went to the other side of the room, where I couldn’t see him, and
was gone quite a few minutes. Then he came back to the table and sat
down, and I’m blamed if he didn’t go to writing again. Says I to myself,
Snags, this ain’t a going to do. It’ll be daylight before you do your
work, and if you’re seen in Dalton things may work wrong. I thought,
too, that he might be writing on the very document that was wanted. So
I made up my mind to crawl in behind him and see what I could see. I
moved along to the other window, so as to be directly behind him, and
pulled open the wooden shutters. The sash was raised, and so was the
curtain, part way, so that all I had to do was to crawl in pretty quiet.
“Well, I got inside, and stood up and looked over his shoulder. Good
Lord! you can’t guess what I saw on the table. A jolly old heap of gold
coin, and there it is, too!”
Snags reached down into the depths of a huge pocket, and drew out
several handfuls of eagles and half eagles. He threw them down on the
table, and the eyes of both the men sparkled.
The face of Roake expressed a greedy joy, but he said in an impatient
tone:
“Well, what next? What did you do then? How did you get the gold?”
“I was going to say,” resumed Snags, “that just as I was feasting my
optics on the shiners, the old man noticed my shadow, and looked up. He
saw me standing there, and I think you’ll own it was rather a ticklish
place. I hadn’t but one thing to do. You know yourself that I ain’t
very fond of it, and confound it, it wasn’t my fault――it couldn’t be
helped――I had to stick him――――”
“You fool, you! Did you――――”
“Yes, needn’t say the word, I did it, but upon my word I didn’t intend
to let the life out of him. I only meant to quiet him for a few moments,
while I got the booty.”
Snags hesitated as if at a loss how to proceed further. He glanced
furtively at his companion, and evidently feared his displeasure. But
the other only said:
“Well, what then? You got the booty, that’s one good thing. Did you get
anything else?”
“No, and I’ll tell you why. The minute I run it into him, I heard a
carriage coming along the road, and so I grabbed the gold and jumped
out of the window. I hid in the bushes, and presently a young cuss come
stealing into the yard, looking about as if he thought things wasn’t
all right. I watched him, and he went into the house, right where the
old man was leaning his head on the table, and the blood on the floor
by his side. He seemed mighty scared at the looks of things, and took
from the old man’s hand a scrap of paper he was clutching even when
dead. I crept close up to the window, so as to see well, when the young
chap come out. I held up this joker,” and Snags drew the long knife
from his breast and laid it on the table, “and told him to wait a
minute, I wanted to see him. I told him he must give up that paper he
had taken from the colonel’s hand, but he vowed he wouldn’t. He called
the old man his uncle, and asked me what I killed him for.
“But I couldn’t stop to waste no words with him, and so we got into a
tussle. By gum! he was a wiry chap, if he was little; and he got away
from me, too. He ran into ♦the road, jumped into his buggy, and drove
like mad into the town. But I had Bill all saddled, under the trees,
and I got on him as quick as I could, and went after him. Thunder!
how he did go! But I caught him just as he was going up toward the
livery-stable, and had to knock him in the head; for it wouldn’t do,
you know, to raise a muss, and make a noise right in the village.
“I put him on the horse in front of me, and streaked it for this spot.
When we’d rode as far as we could, I took him down and made him walk;
and――would you believe it?――though I followed him up close, he gave me
the slip again, and ran like split down the shore, jumped in a skiff,
and rowed off.”
“The devil he did,” said Roake. “You’ve made a pretty mess of it, all
around. You ain’t so sharp as you used to be. And so the fellow has
escaped, has he?”
“I hope not,” said Snags. “Rattler and the others are out with two
boats after him, and as he didn’t get much of a start I think they’ll
catch him. It’ll be mighty serious business if they don’t.”
“How’s that?”
“He’ll bring officers here, and they’ll burst up the whole nest of us.”
“That would be a bad job. And you can have your cursed blundering to
thank for it. Just think of it; to kill a man when it was not in the
game, and then to let a prisoner escape from you so easily.”
“Don’t blow, Roake. I couldn’t help it. There is one thing we can do;
if our man is not caught we can leave this place, and take a journey
that leaves no trail.”
“I hate to do that.”
“So do I. But self-preservation, and so forth, you know.”
Both men were silent for a short time, when Snags said:
“I’m mighty hungry, Roake, and dry as a fish. A man must eat and drink
after such a job as I’ve been through.”
“You’ll find what you want in the cupboard there,” said Roake.
He lit a pipe, and smoked furiously, muttering:
“I don’t know what the boss will say.”
Snags proceeded to eat with a voracity that attested a good appetite,
and a mind untroubled, for the time, by the bloody scene in which he
had so recently been the chief actor.
The men conversed no more together, but each occupied himself with his
own thoughts, and anxiously awaited the appearance of Leonard Lester,
who at that moment had nearly abandoned all hope of eluding the four
men who were pursuing him with their boats.