TO THE RESCUE!
The suddenness of the onslaught prevented Deadwood Dick from raising a
hand to defend himself, and the two strong men piling their combined
weights upon him, had the effect to render him utterly helpless. He
would have yelled to apprise his comrades of his fate, but Alexander
Filmore, ready for the emergency, quickly thrust a cob of wood into
his mouth, and bound it there with strong strings.
The young road-agent was a prisoner.
"Hal ha!" leered the elder Filmore, peering down into the masked
face--"ha! ha! my young eaglet; so I have you at last, have I? After
repeated efforts to get you in my power, I have at last been rewarded
with success, eh? Ha! ha! the terrible scourge of the Black Hills lies
here at my feet, mine to do with as I shall see fit."
"Shall we settle him, and leave him lying here, where his gang can
find him?" interrupted the younger Filmore, who, now that his blood
was up, cared little what he did. "You give him one jab, and I will
guarantee to finish him with the second!"
"No! no! boy; you are too hasty. Before we silence him, forever, we
must ascertain, if possible, where the girl is."
"But, he'll never tell us."
"We have that yet to find out. It is my opinion that we can bring him
to terms, somehow. Take hold, and we will carry him back to our hole
in the hill."
Deadwood Dick was accordingly seized by the neck and heels, and borne
swiftly and silently toward the western side of the gulch, up among
the foothills, into the rift, where the plotters had lain concealed
since their arrival. Here he was placed upon the ground in a sitting
posture, and his two enemies crouched on either side of him, like
beasts ready to spring upon their prey.
Below in the valley, the Utes had kindled one solitary fire, and this
with a starlike gleam of light from the cabin window, was the only
sign of life to be seen through the night's black shroud. The trio in
the foothills were evidently quite alone.
Alexander Filmore broke the silence.
"Well, my gay Deadwood Dick, Prince of the Road, I suppose you wish to
have the matter over with, as soon as possible"
The road-agent nodded.
"Better let him loose in the jaws," suggested Filmore the younger; "or
how else shall we get from him what we must know? Take out his gag.
I'll hold my six against his pulsometer. If he squawks, I'll silence
him, sure as there is virtue in powder and ball!"
The elder, after some deliberation, acquiesced, and Dick was placed in
possession of his speaking power, while the muzzle of young Filmore's
revolver pressed against his breast, warned him to silence and
obedience.
"Now," said the elder Filmore, "just you keep mum. If you try any
trickery, it will only hasten your destruction, which is inevitable!"
Deadwood Dick gave a little laugh.
"You talk as if you were going to do something toward making me the
center of funeralistic attraction."
"You'll find out, soon enough, young man. I have not pursued you so
long, all for nothing, you may rest assured. Your death will be the
only event that can atone for all the trouble you have given me, in
the past."
"_Is_ that so? Well, you seem to hold all the _trump_ cards, and I
reckon you ought to win, though I can't see into your inordinate
thirst for _diamonds_, when _spades_ will eventually triumph. Had I a
_full hand_ of _clubs_, I am not so sure but what I could _raise_ you,
_knaves_ though you are!"
"I think not; when kings win, the game is virtually up. We hold
altogether to high cards for you, at present, and _beg_ as you may, we
shall not _pass_ you."
"Don't be too sure of it. The best trout often slips from the hook,
when you are sanguine that you have at last been immoderately
successful. But, enough of this cheap talk. Go on and say your say, in
as few words as possible, for I am in a hurry."
Both Filmore, Sr., and Filmore, Jr., laughed at this--it sounded so
ridiculously funny to hear a helpless prisoner talk of being in a
hurry.
"Business must be pressing!" leered the elder, savagely. "Don't be at
all scared. We'll start you humming along the road to Jordan soon
enough, if that's what you want. First, however, we desire you to
inform us where we can find the girl, as we wish to make a clean
sweep, while we are about it."
"Do you bathe your face in alum-water?" abruptly asked the road-agent,
staring at his captor, quizzically. "Do you?"
"Bathe in _alum_-water? Certainly not, sir. Why do you ask?"
"Because the hardness of you cheek is highly suggestive of the use of
some similar application."
Alexander Filmore stared at his son a moment, at loss to comprehend;
but, as it began to dawn upon him that he was the butt of a hard hit,
he uttered a frightful curse.
"My cheek and your character bear a close resemblance, then!" he
retorted, hotly. "Again I ask you, will you tell me where the girl
is?"
"No! you must take me for an ornery mule, or some other kind of an
animal, if you think I would deliver her into _your_ clutches. No! no!
my scheming knaves, I will not. Kill me if you like, but it will not
accomplish your villainous ends. She has all of the papers, and can
not only put herself forward at the right time, but can have you
arrested for my murder!"
"Bah! we can find her, as we have found you; so we will not trifle.
Clarence, get ready; and when I count one--two--three--pull the
trigger, and I'll finish him with my knife!"
"All right; go ahead; I'm ready!" replied the dutiful son.
Fearless Frank sat upon a bowlder in the mouth of the quartz mine,
listening to the strains of music that floated up to him from the
cabin out in the valley, and puffing moodily away at a grimy old pipe
he had purchased, together with some tobacco, from one of the Utes,
with whom he worked.
He had not gone down to the crusher-house for his supper; he did not
feel hungry, and was more contented here, in the mouth of the mine,
where he could command a view of all that was going on in the valley.
With his pipe for a companion he was as happy as he could be, deprived
as he was from association with the others of his color, who had
barred him out in the cold.
Once or twice during the day, on coming from within, to get a breath
of pure air, he had caught a glimpse of Anita as she flitted about the
cabin engaged at her household duties, and the yearning expression
that unconsciously stole into his dark eyes, spoke of a passion within
his heart, that, though it might be slumbering, was not extinct--was
there all the same, in all its strength and ardor. Had he been granted
the privilege of meeting her, he might have displaced the barrier that
rose between them; but now, nothing remained for him but to toil away
until Redburn should see fit to send him away, back into the world
from which he came.
Would he want to go, when that time came? Hardly, he thought, as he
sat there and gazed into the quiet vale below him, so beautiful even
in darkness. There was no reason why he should go back again adrift
upon the bustling world.
He had no relatives--no claims that pointed him to go thither; he was
as free and unfettered as the wildest mountain eagle. He had no one to
say where he should and where he should not go; he liked one place
equally as well as another, providing there was plenty of provender
and work within easy range; he had never thought of settling down,
until now, when he had come to the Flower Pocket valley, and caught a
glimpse of Anita--Anita whom he had not seen for years; on whom he had
brought censure, reproach and--
A step among the rocks close at hand startled him from a reverie into
which he had fallen, and caused him to spill the tobacco from his
pipe.
A slight trim figure stood a few yards away, and he perceived that two
extended hands clasped objects, whose glistening surface suggested
that they were "sixes" or "sevens."
"Silence!" came in a clear, authoritative voice. "One word more than I
ask you, and I'll blow your brains out. Now, what's your name?"
"Justin McKenzie's my name. Fearless Frank generally answers me the
purpose of a nom de plume," was the reply.
"Very good," and the stranger drew near enough for the Scarlet Boy to
perceive that he was clad in buck-skin; well armed; wore a Spanish
sombrero, and hair long, down over the square shoulders. "I'm Calamity
Jane."
If McKenzie uttered an ejaculation of surprise, it was not to be
wondered at, for he had heard many stories, in Deadwood, concerning
the "dare-devil gal dressed up in men's toggery."
"Calamity Jane?" he echoed, picking up his pipe. "Where in the world
did _you_ come from, and how did you get here, and what do you want,
and--"
"One at a time, please. I came from Deadwood with Road-Agent Dick's
party--unknown to them, understand you. That answers two questions.
The third is, I want to be around when there's any fun going on; and
it's lucky I'm here now. I guess Dick has just got layed out by two
fellows in the valley below here, and they've slid off with him over
among the foot-hills yonder. I want you to stub along after me, and
lend the voices of your sixes, if need be. I'm going to set him at
liberty!"
"I'm at your service," Frank quickly replied. Excitement was one of
his passions; adventure was another.
"Are you well heeled?"
"I reckon. Always make it a point to be prepared for wild beasts and
the like, you know."
"A good idea. Well, if you are ready, we'll slide. I don't want them
toughs to get the drop on Dick if I can help it."
"Who are they?"
"Who--the toughs?"
"Yes; they that took the road-agent"
"I don't know 'm. Guess they're tender-foots--some former enemies of
his, without doubt. They propose to quiz a secret about some girl out
of him, and then knife him. We'll have to hurry or they'll get their
work in ahead of us."
They left the mouth of the mine, and skurried down into the valley,
through the dense shroud of gloom.
Calamity Jane led the way; she was both fleet of foot and cautious.
Let us look down on the foot-hill camp, and the two Fillmores who are
stationed on either side of their prisoner.
The younger presses the muzzle of his revolver against Deadwood Dick's
heart; the elder holds a long gleaming knife upheld in his right hand.
"One!" he counts, savagely.
"Two!"--after a momentary pause. Another lapse of time, and then--
"Hold! gentlemen; that will do!" cries a clear ringing voice; and
Calamity Jane and McKenzie, stepping out of the darkness, with four
gleaming "sixes" in hand, confirm the pleasant assertion!