CHAPTER IX.

THE ASSAULT ON THE JAIL.

"Why don't Hank put on ther water?" groaned the deputy sheriff. "Et'll

be too late in a minute!"

Crash! crash! The assailants were using a heavy battering ram, and the

door was beginning to give.

"Oi'm afraid it's all up with poor Frankie!" gasped Barney.

A wild yell came from the mad mob at the door.

"Death to Black Harry!"

Bang--splinter--crash! The door was breaking, and the battering-ram was

being driven against it with renewed force.

There was one last great shock, and down went the door before the

assault.

"No water yet!" cried Gilson. "Now it is too late!"

He flung down the hose, taking to his heels before the gang of masked

men that swarmed into the doorway.

Barney Mulloy heard a hissing noise, and then he leaped forward and

caught up the nozzle of the hose. He turned the large stop-cock, and a

bar of water shot out, striking the leader of the lynchers in the neck,

and hurling him, gasping and stunned, back into the arms of those

behind.

"Hurro!" trumpeted the Irish lad, in delight, his blood aroused. "Come

on, an' git washed off th' face av th' earth!"

This method of defense proved unpleasantly surprising to the attacking

party. The stream of water swept men off their feet and flung them,

half-drowned, back from the doorway into the night. In less than half a

minute Barney had cleared the doorway.

"Hurro!" he shouted, once more. "This is th' kind av sport! We'll howld

th' fort till th' last drop av warther is gone!"

There was a lull, and Hank Kildare came panting to the side of the lad

with the hose. When he saw the broken door an exclamation of dismay came

from the lips of the sheriff.

"Something wuz ther matter, so I couldn't turn ther water on," he said.

"An' now they've got ther door down!"

"But Oi bate 'em off!" shouted the Irish lad, triumphantly.

"They'll come in when ther water fails."

Barney had not thought of that, and his feeling of triumph turned to

anxiety and dismay.

"Pwhat kin we do?"

"Where is Gilson?"

"Th' spalpane run whin the dure wur broke."

"We might fight, but what if we did shoot down a few o' ther critters?

It w'u'dn't stop 'em, an' we'd hev killed somebody. Stay hyar--hold 'em

back long as yer kin."

"Pwhat are ye goin' ter do?"

"Git ther prisoner up onter ther roof. Mebbe we kin hold 'em back from

gittin' up thar."

"All roight. Oi'll do me bist here."

Kildare ran back along the corridor and disappeared.

Of a sudden rocks began to whistle about Barney's head, and then one

struck him, knocking him down. The nozzle of the hose fell from his

hands, and he lay prone and motionless on the floor.

Wild yells of savage delight broke from the mob.

Then, with a clatter of hoofs, a band of masked horsemen came tearing

down the street, whirled into the open space before the jail, and began

shooting into the mob. The horsemen were dressed in black, and every man

was masked.

"It's Black Harry's Braves!" screamed a voice that was full of fear.

Twenty voices took up the cry, and the mob, utterly demoralized, broke

and ran in all directions.

Some of the masked horsemen sprang from their animals and dashed into

the jail, springing over the prostrate body of the unconscious Irish

lad.

Kildare was removing Frank from his cell when those masked men came upon

them. In a moment the boy had been torn from the sheriff, and the men

whirled him away.

Out of the jail rushed Black Harry's Braves, the boy was placed astride

a horse, and away they went, with him in their midst.

Frank had believed them lynchers, and he thought them lynchers as they

bore him away.

"It's all up with me," he mentally said.

But his hands were free, and he was watching for an opportunity to

escape. He meant to make one more effort for life, if given an

opportunity.

Through the town tore the wild horsemen, yelling like so many fiends,

shooting to the right and left.

Out of Elreno they rode, and then the man on the right of Frank leaned

toward the boy, saying:

"We came just in time, chief. If we'd been ten minutes later, the

lynchers would have had you sure."

"The lynchers?" gasped the bewildered boy. "Why, you----"

"They had the door down when we reached the jail, but a dozen shots set

them scattering."

"But--but--I don't understand."

"We didn't mean to strike before midnight, but Benson brought word that

they were liable to lynch you, and so we lost no time in getting here.

We rode twenty miles like we were racing with an express train. You must

allow we did a good job this time, chief."

"Chief? Why I----"

Frank stopped short, choking the words back. At last he realized who

these men were.

They were Black Harry's Braves, and they believed him to be Black Harry!

He reeled upon the horse he bestrode.

"What's the matter?" asked the man, quickly. "Are you hurt any way?"

"No."

The boy's voice was hoarse and unnatural.

"What can I do?" he thought. "How long will it be before they discover

their mistake? I must keep up the deception, and I may find an

opportunity to escape."

In a moment he had recovered his composure. As old readers know, Frank

was a boy of nerve, and he began to feel very well satisfied with the

situation.

"I have escaped lynching," he thought, "and these men believe me their

leader. I am out of jail and now I shall be given a chance to fight for

my life and honor. In order to prove my own innocence, I must capture

Black Harry. This may lead me to the opportunity."

But for one thing his heart would have been filled with exultation. That

one thing was the memory of Barney Mulloy, whom he had seen lying prone

and motionless just within the broken door of the jail. Had they killed

his faithful friend?

He feared the Irish lad had met death while trying to hold back the

lynchers.

The outlaws did not seem to fear pursuit, and they slackened their pace

somewhat as soon as they were out of town.

"Where shall we go, chief?" asked one.

Frank was at a loss to answer, for he knew that a slip might betray him,

and he was determined to be on his guard all the time. His hesitation

was observed, and the man said:

"I reckon it will be safe to return to Cade's Canyon for a while."

"I reckon so," said Frank. "We'll go there."

"I warned you that you would make a mistake if you ventured into

Elreno," said the talkative outlaw, "but you were determined to have

another look at that girl, and so you took chances. Girls have caused

more trouble in this world than everything else combined."

"That's right," admitted Frank, who was wondering what girl the fellow

meant.

"Did you see her?" asked the man, with a sly chuckle.

"Oh, yes, of course."

"Ha, ha! I like the way you say that, chief. No offense, but Benson said

you saw her in the railway station as soon as you landed in Elreno."

Now Frank knew that Lona Dawson was meant.

"Yes," he said, "she was there, and she informed the public in general

that she had seen me before."

"I don't suppose you will bother with her any more, and so we'll move on

as soon as possible, and get out of this part of the country? It's

getting right hot here."

"It is all of that," admitted Frank; "but I am not for running away, as

if we were scared out."

"Well, you know our original plan."

"Certainly."

Frank spoke as if he knew it well enough, but he was wondering what it

could be. However, the man soon explained.

"We are to carry the expedition through into Indian Territory, and

disband when the Arkansas line is reached. Then we can scatter and defy

pursuit, and we can come together at Ochiltree, in the Panhandle, at the

time set."

Frank felt like thanking the fellow for the information.

"That's right," nodded the boy, speaking carefully; "but this little

affair has made me rather mad, and I don't feel like running away so

very fast."

"Especially from the girl."

"Hang the girl!"

Frank felt that it would not do to allow the fellow to become so

familiar.

"You didn't talk that way after seeing her last night. Why, you were

sorry we didn't carry her off when we left the train."

"Oh, well, a fellow has a right to change his mind. I have seen her by

daylight."

"And she didn't look so well?"

"Hardly."

"Still, she is something of a daisy."

"She'll do; but I can't waste my time with her. There are others."

"Now you're beginning to talk right, chief. The boys felt a little

doubtful of you when you went racing off after that girl, and they will

be mightily relieved to know you have come to your senses."

Frank grunted, but spoke no word. During the entire ride, he talked as

little as possible, but he kept his ears open.

Frank Merriwell's Bravery · 第 9 / 46 章