CHAPTER VIII
FELLOW-PASSENGERS
The two decided to give Bob Budd a surprise. They said it would behard for them to get away, and more than likely they would have towait several weeks before the matter could be decided. This letter wasfollowed at once by themselves, and they were now within a few milesof Bob's home without his suspecting anything of the kind.
Having informed themselves fully, they rode to a station not far fromPiketon, where they got off, leaving their trunks to go to the town,while they spent a half-day in hunting. Their luck was so poor thatthey gave it up, and were glad to use the stage for the rest of thejourney.
"What time are you due in Piketon?" asked Jim of the driver.
"Half-past eight."
"That's a good deal after dark."
"So it is, at this time of the year, and it's going to be dark soonerthan usual."
"How's that?"
"Don't you notice how it has clouded up this afternoon? A big storm iscoming and we're going to catch it afore we strike Piketon."
"Well," growled Wagstaff, "that isn't pleasant; we were fools, Jim,that we didn't stay in the train; but we can shut ourselves in withthe curtains and let the driver run things."
"I reckon I haven't druv over this road for twenty-five years," saidLenman, "without striking a storm afore to-night."
"Sartinly, sartinly," added Ethan Durrell; "life must have its shadowsas well as sunshine, though I don't like to be catched on a lonelyroad this way. I say, Bill," he added, in a half-frightened voice,"are you troubled with any such pesky things as highway robbers?"
"If you hadn't asked me that question I wouldn't have said anythingabout it; but I've been stopped and held up, as they say, just likethem chaps out West."
"You don't say so!" exclaimed the New Englander, while the young menon the back seat became interested.
"I didn't suppose you were ever troubled in this part of the world bysuch people," said Wagstaff.
"We aint often, but what place can you name where you don't find badpeople?"
"How long ago was it you were held up?" asked Ethan.
"About six months; fact is, I've felt shaky for the last week."
"Why so?" asked Wagstaff.
"I've seen a suspicious character down in Black Bear Swamp."
"Where's that?"
"It's a piece of woods we pass through afore we reach Piketon; itjines the woods where you tell me Bob Budd has put up the tent, but itcurves round and reaches the hills on t'other side."
The words of the driver deeply interested all three of the passengers.The knowledge that, though in the State of Pennsylvania, and in asection fairly well settled, they were in danger of being "held up" inthe most approved style of the wild West was enough to startle anyone.
"Tell us all about it," persisted Wagstaff, lighting a new cigarette,and leaning forward to catch the reply.
"There isn't much to tell," replied the driver; "'cept there's aholler close to t'other side of Black Bear Swamp, and three times inthe past week, when I was passing, I've seen a tall, slim man movingaround among the trees and watching me, tryin' at the same time tokeep me from seeing him."
"But if he was a robber--"
"Who said he was a robber?" demanded Lenman, turning and lookingsharply at the young man.
"You said he was a suspicious character, and what else could he be?"demanded Wagstaff.
"Perhaps a tramp, but I'll admit I have thought it likely he was a manlooking for a chance to rob the stage." "Why didn't he do it then?"
"It happened that on each of the times I hadn't a single passengerwith me."
"And now you've got _three_," remarked McGovern. "Well, I hope hewill attack us to-night."
"What'll you do if he does?" asked the New Englander.
"Don't you see we've each got a rifle? Beside that, Tom and I carry aSmith & Wesson apiece, and all our weapons are loaded; that fellowwon't have time to call out for us to give up our valuables beforehe'll be filled as full of holes as a sieve."
"My gracious! you wouldn't do _that_, would you?"
"Just give us a chance, that's all," said Wagstaff, with a shake ofhis head.
Had the young men been watching Durrell and the driver at that moment,they would have seen a singular look pass between the two. It mighthave meant nothing, and it might have signified a good deal. No wordswere spoken, but the expression of their faces, to say the least, waspeculiar.
"I should have said," continued the driver, "that the chap may havelearned something about that box, which was expected at Belmar, andwhich I was to take to Piketon with me."
"What box?" asked Wagstaff.
"The one that is strapped onto the rear of the stage."
"Jingo!" muttered Jim, "things are beginning to look dubious."
"As I was about to say," continued the driver, "if that chap has madeup his mind to hold us up--and it looks mighty like it--this is thenight it will be done."
"Why do you say that?"
"Haven't I got three passengers for Piketon, which is the biggestnumber I've took through in a couple of weeks, and, more'n all,_that_ box is with me? The night is going to be as dark as awolf's mouth, and when we strike Black Bear Swamp--"
"Why do they call it Black Bear Swamp?" asked Durrell.
"I don't know of any reason, onless it is that there never was a blackbear found there, though they're up among the mountains, where there'sa deer now and then. But won't the scamp be fooled, though?" chuckledthe driver.
"How's that?"
"I never carry any shooting-irons, but you've got enough for us all,and, when he sings out and you shove the muzzles of your guns forwardand let drive, why the State will be saved a big expense."
"That's so!" exclaimed Wagstaff, with a fierceness too vivid to bewholly genuine; "we've started out for a hunting trip with Bob Budd,and expect to bag all the bears and deer in the country, but weweren't looking for stage robbers, because I don't know that we havelost any, but if they choose to run into our way, why who's to blame?"
"That's so," assented his companion, who, in truth, regretted morethan ever that they had not made the entire journey to Piketon bytrain instead of partly in the lumbering stage-coach.
"It would be better," he added, after a moment's thought, "if therogue had chosen the daytime."
"Why so?" queried the New Englander.
"We can see to aim better."
"So can _he_, can't he?"
"Yes, but we would have prepared better than we can at night," repliedWagstaff, nervously.
"And it would be the same with _him_. If you're afraid you can'tshoot straight, I'll take one gun and Bill the other, and you cancrawl under the seats."
"Who's talking about crawling under the seats--what's that?"
A peal of thunder rumbled overhead, and it was already beginning togrow dark. The afternoon was merging into night, which, as has beenexplained, was closing in sooner than usual, because of the cloudysky.
"We're going to catch it afore we get home," remarked the driver,glancing upward and twitching the lines, so as to force the team intoa moderate trot.
"Why don't you hurry up your nags more, and get home sooner?" askedWagstaff.
"A good master is marciful to his beast; I aint likely to gainanything by hurrying, for the storm may come and be over afore we getto town, while the animals are so used to this work, that, if I madeit a rule to push 'em now and then, they are likely to break down, andtrade aint good enough for me to afford _that_."
"But if you should do it once, it wouldn't hurt."
"Another thing," added the driver, as if the fact was a clincher tothe discussion, "if we should go rattling through Black Bear Swampahead of time, that suspicious chap would miss us."
"Well?"
"And we would miss _him_, which we don't want to do. Being asyou've got your guns and are so anxious to use 'em on him, why I won'tbe mean enough to rob you of the chance."
The Campers Out; Or, The Right Path and the Wrong Page 8