CHAPTER X
A STARTLING SUMMONS
The stage was within a hundred yards of Black Bear Swamp whensomething like a tornado struck it. The horses stopped, and thevehicle was partly lifted from the ground. For an instant it seemed tobe going over. The driver and the New Englander started withsuppressed exclamations, while Wagstaff emitted a cry of alarm, as heand his companion attempted to leap out.
"Sit still! you're all right!" shouted Lenman, striking his horseswith the whip. They broke into a trot, and a few minutes later enteredthe dense wood, where they were safe from the danger that threatenedthem a moment before. Indeed, the volley of wind was as brief as adischarge of musketry, passing instantly, though it still howledthrough the wood, with a dismal effect, which made all heartily wishthey were somewhere else.
It was so dark that, but for the flashes of lightning, the passengerswould have been unable to see each other's forms; but the horses wereso familiar with the route that they needed no guidance. The driverallowed them to walk, while he held the lines taut to check them onthe instant it might be necessary.
Wagstaff and McGovern climbed forward, and crowded themselves on theseat beside the New Englander, each firmly grasping his rifle, for, asthey advanced into the wood, their thoughts were of the criminal whothey believed would challenge them before they could reach the otherside.
Still the rain held off, though the lightning was almost incessant andcontinually showed the way in front. The wind, too, abated, and allbegan to breathe more freely.
"I guess the robber won't dare show himself to-night," said Wagstaff,speaking rather his wish than his belief.
"What's to hinder him?" asked Ethan Durrell.
"The storm."
The driver laughed outright.
"It's just what is in his favor--hulloa!"
"Gracious! what's the matter?" gasped Wagstaff, as the team suddenlyhalted, of their own accord; "let's get out."
"Something's wrong," replied Lenman; "don't speak or make any noise;we'll soon know what it is."
While waiting for the flash of lightning to illuminate the gloom, itnever seemed so long coming. A short time before the gleams werecontinuous, but now the gloom was like that of Egypt as the secondsdragged along.
No one spoke, but all eyes were fixed on the impenetrable darkness infront, while every ear was strained to catch some sound beside thesoughing of the wind among the trees.
All at once, as if the overwhelming storehouse of electricity couldcontain itself no longer, the whole space around, in front and abovewas lit up by one dazzling flame, which revealed everything with thevividness of a thousand noonday suns.
By its overpowering glare the figure of a man on horseback was seenmotionless in the middle of the road, less than twenty feet distant.He knew of the presence of some one in his path, and he, too, wasawaiting the help of the lightning before advancing.
"That's _him_,'" whispered Tom Wagstaff; "shall we shoot?"
Ethan Durrell felt the seat tremble under the youth, while the othersnoticed the quaver in his voice.
"No," replied the driver; "he hasn't done nothin' yet; wait till hehails us."
"That may be too late, but all right."
"Helloa, Bill, is that you?" came from the horseman.
"Yes; who are you?" called back the driver.
"Don't you know me, Hank Babcock?" called the other, with a laugh.
"I sort of thought it was you, Hank, but wasn't sure."
"You can be sure of it now; wait a minute till I get out of your way;I'll turn aside and let you pass."
Everything was quiet for a moment, except the wind, the snuffing ofhis horse, and the sound of his hoofs, as he was forced with sometrouble close to the trees which grew near the highway.
"Now, it's all right; go ahead," called Hank Babcock.
Lenman spoke to his animals and they moved forward. When opposite thehorseman, another flash revealed him sitting astride the animal, a fewfeet to one side. He called a cheery good-night as he drew back, afterthe stage had passed, and continued his course.
"Driver," said Wagstaff, when they were moving again; "where is thespot you thought it likely we would meet him?"
"We're close to it now; you notice the road goes down a little, butnot enough for me to put on the brake; have your shootin' irons ready,for, somehow or other, I feel in my bones that you'll need 'em."
"Where's that chap that was here a minute ago?" asked Jim, with asmuch tremor in his voice as his friend.
"Who's that?" asked the driver.
"That Yankee that was sitting right here; he's gone!"
"I guess not," replied the driver, reaching back his hand and gropingvaguely around; "he must be there."
"He isn't; he was here, but he's missing."
"Maybe he got so scared he took the back seat," suggested Tom, whoheld his rifle in his left hand, while he passed his right through thevacancy in the rear of the stage; "no, I'll be hanged if he is there;he isn't in the stage."
"That's mighty queer," remarked the driver; "I didn't hear him getout, did you?"
"No, but I felt him; he was sitting right alongside of us, whensomething brushed past me and he was gone--there!"
Once more the lightning brought everything out with intensedistinctness, and all saw that there were only three instead of fourpersons in the stage.
The New Englander was missing: what had become of him?
"I guess he was scared," suggested Wagstaff, with a weak attempt toscrew up his courage; "and preferred to hide among the trees ratherthan run the risk of meeting that stranger--"
"_Sh!_" interrupted the driver, "there's somebody ahead of us inthe road; the horses see him; be ready and remember that if you missit's sure death--"
At that moment the most startling cry that could fall upon their earsrang from the gloom in front:
"_Hands up, every one of you!_"
The Campers Out; Or, The Right Path and the Wrong Page 10