CHAPTER VI.
ROBBED IN HIS SLEEP.
Tom was right in concluding that Bill Crane's influence over Peabody wasanything but good. The young Bostonian, however, was not long subjectedto it. During the night following John Miles's departure, the littlesettlement at River Bend was called upon to deplore the loss of aneminent member.
In brief, somewhere between midnight and dawn Mr. William Crane took hisdeparture, without the ceremony of leave-taking. Had he gone alone noone perhaps would have felt any violent sorrow, but he took with him ahorse belonging to Adam Dietrich, an industrious young German, who hadonly recently arrived. No one had seen the two go together, but it wasonly natural to suppose that Crane had spirited away the horse.
Dietrich borrowed a horse, and, accompanied by a friend, set out insearch of the thief, but returned at night unsuccessful. Had it been wetweather, it might have been possible to track the fugitive; but it wasvery dry, and the trail was soon lost. It was almost impossible to tellwhat direction Crane would choose, and continued pursuit would not pay,so Adam sadly returned to his work.
Little doubt was entertained among the miners that Crane was responsiblefor the loss of the horse. Had he been caught, there would have beensmall chance for him, so generally was he pronounced guilty. A few ofhis companions, especially Missouri Jack, defended him.
"Bill Crane wouldn't steal a horse any more than I would," said Jack;and there were those who agreed with him without acquitting Bill. "Billain't no saint, but he ain't a thief."
Whether Jack believed what he said, admits of a doubt. Crane needed adifferent advocate to clear him from suspicion.
It may as well be stated that Crane did steal the horse. He had adecided objection to walking as long as he could ride, and, having noanimal of his own, annexed the property of his neighbor.
He had two motives which influenced him to leave the settlement. First,he was in Tom's power, and he was by no means certain that our herowould keep silence touching his night-attempt at robbery. In the secondplace, he still coveted the bag of gold-dust which John Miles carriedaway with him. He had been prevented from taking it; but, as Miles wastravelling alone, he foresaw a better chance of success if he shouldfollow on his track.
How or under what circumstances he should make the new attempt he leftto be decided later. The first thing, obviously, was to overtake him.
Crane experienced the same difficulty in tracking Miles that had led tothe failure of his own pursuers. It was only on the fifth day, that, ashe halted his steed on the hillside, and cast long glances about him, hecaught sight, a mile away, of the object of his pursuit. He could notmistake the sturdy, broad-shouldered figure, and large, massive head.
"That's Miles, sure enough!" he exclaimed, joyfully. "I thought I hadmissed him, but I'm in luck. That bag must be mine."
The most direct course was to ride up in the fashion of a highwayman,and demand the bag. But Crane did not mean to proceed in this fashion.Physically, though not a weak man, he was not a match for Miles, and heknew it. Cunning must supply the place of strength. He knew that Mileswas a sound sleeper, and could think of no better plan than repeatingthe visit he had made in camp. It was already late in the afternoon whenhe caught sight of the sturdy miner. It was his policy now to keep himin sight, but not to approach near enough for recognition. Once seen,Miles would be on his guard, and the game would be spoiled. Cranehalted, therefore, and drew back within the shadow of the trees,henceforth advancing cautiously.
John Miles did not once turn back. Had he done so, it is quite possiblethat he might have caught a glimpse of his pursuer. He had travelledsince morning, and his faithful horse was beginning to show signs offatigue.
"You are tired, my poor Dick," he said kindly, stroking the horse. "Youdeserve supper and rest, and you shall have it."
Dick appeared to understand what his rider said, for he gave a shortneigh of satisfaction.
John Miles looked around him. Just ahead was a large tree, under whosebroad branches it would be pleasant to recline. Not far away was aslender mountain-stream trickling over the rocks. Nothing could havebeen better.
Miles slid from his horse and made preparations to encamp for the night,first leading his faithful steed to the stream, where he quenched histhirst. Then he brought out his slender stock of provisions and partookof supper.
"It's pleasant to rest after a long day's ride," soliloquized Miles. "Imust have made forty miles to-day. I could easily have gone farther, hadit been on the prairies at home, but these mountain-roads are hard uponman and beast."
After supper Miles threw himself upon the ground, and his mind becamebusy with his plans and prospects.
"I shall reach Frisco in three days, according to my calculations," hereflected; "and then, first of all, I must attend to Tom's commission.That's a good boy, Tom. I wish he were here with me to-night. Why didn'tI urge him to come with me? He is not doing very well where he is, andthere are plenty of chances for a smart boy in the city. If I find anyopening for him, I will send for him. I don't know what gives me such aninterest in that boy, but I'd sooner do him a good turn than any man Iknow. I hope that thief Crane won't play any trick upon him. If he does,I swear I'll get even with him."
John Miles little suspected that he himself stood in more peril from theman he denounced than our hero. Had he known that Bill Crane was lurkingin the vicinity, he would scarcely have courted slumber so fearlessly.
Physical fatigue and the stillness of outward nature speedily broughton a feeling of drowsiness that was not long in bringing sleep. Twilighthad hardly given place to night when our traveller had become "to dumbforgetfulness a prey."
This was what Bill Crane had been waiting for. He rightly calculatedthat Miles would soon be asleep. He inferred this from his own feelings.He, too, had travelled many miles, and felt drowsy; but, with the objecthe had in view near accomplishment, he was able to resist the promptingsof nature.
Crane rode till he was but a few rods from Miles, then dismounted andtethered his horse. With stealthy step he approached the sleeper. Withsatisfaction he regarded the upturned face of the man whom, if waking,he would have feared, and noted his deep, regular breathing.
"You wouldn't sleep so sound, John Miles," he said to himself, "if youknew I was standing over you. How easily I could put a bullet into you!But then I wouldn't have the satisfaction of anticipating yourdisappointment when you wake up and find your treasure gone! No, youmay live. I have no use for your life, that is, if you don't wake up. Inthat case, I may have to kill you."
The bag of gold-dust lay under the head of Miles. He knew of no betterplace for it, calculating that any attempt at removal would arouse him.So it might under ordinary circumstances, but unusual fatigue made himsleep like a log. Bill Crane kneeled down, and by delicate manipulationsucceeded in drawing the bag from beneath the sleeper's head. Lest theremoval of the pillow might awaken Miles, he replaced it by a coat,which he folded up so as to produce about the same elevation above theground.
The transfer was made, without in the least interfering with theslumbers of the tired traveller.
Bill Crane rose to his feet, triumphant. Not only was he possessed of asum of which he stood sorely in need, but he had the satisfaction ofoutwitting his adversary. Moreover, he had obtained Tom's money inaddition, and thus revenged himself upon the boy who had once thwartedhim.
"Good-by, John Miles!" he said, lifting his hat mockingly. "Sorry toinconvenience you, but can't help it. A long sleep, and pleasantdreams!"
Thus speaking, he turned away, unconscious that he had been observed bya third party.
The Young Miner; Or, Tom Nelson in California Page 6