CHAPTER XII
THE VICTIM OF A MISTAKE.
Ethan Durrell may have been verdant-looking and peculiar in his ways,but he was one of the pluckiest of men. It was impossible for him toknow whether the scamp who held up the stage had any companions ornot, until the matter was proven by taking a risk which, if he wentthe wrong way, was sure to be fatal. With this uncertainty, andwithout so much as a single weapon at his command, he leaped upon theunsuspecting ruffian, and, throwing both arms around his neck, borehim to the ground.
The attack was wholly unexpected by the fellow, who was standing withloaded revolver pointed toward the stage, ready to fire on the instanthe observed anything suspicious. It was necessary for the NewEnglander to spring down from the front of the coach, but every oneexcept himself thought his intention was to land in front of the otherand there submit to the inevitable. The quavering voice of Durrell hadconvinced his friends that he was as timid as any of them in thepresence of real danger.
He closed his arms like a vise, so as to pinion those of the strangeragainst his sides. The impetus of his own body drove the man backward,and before he could recover Ethan tripped and threw him with suchviolence that his hat fell off and an exclamation was forced from him.
He uttered fierce execrations and strove desperately to get his armfree that he might use his weapon on his assailant, but there was nopossibility of shaking off the embrace of the wiry New Englander, whohung on like grim death.
"Bill, you and the boys watch out for the other fellers," calledDurrell, as he struggled with the man; "if any of them showthemselves, shoot! I'll 'tend to this one."
At this moment the rogue seemed to remember his friends, and hecalled:
IT'S NO USE! I'VE GOT YOU!]
"Quick, Sam! Shoot him! Don't miss! Let him have it!"
Even in that excitement Ethan noticed that the fellow's appeal was to"Sam" instead of the imaginary "Dick," whom he first addressed. Thesuspicion that he was alone was strengthened, and the daring NewEnglander put forth all his power to subdue him.
"It's no use! I've got you and I'm going for you like two housesafire. Stand back, Bill, and don't interfere; if I can't bring him toterms, then I'm going to resign and climb a tree."
Everything was going like a whirlwind. Although Bill Lenman preferredon such occasions as the present to be a non-combatant, he was not theone to stay idle when a friend risked his life for him. He threw thelines over the horses' backs and sprang down to give what help hecould; but in the darkness it was hard to decide in what way he couldaid the other. It was evident that Durrell was pushing matters withvigor, and there was no doubt that he expected to bring the rogue toterms.
But it was easy for one in Ethan's situation to be mistaken. As longas the fellow kept his pistol, the New Englander's life was in danger.Bill stooped over with the intention of twisting away the weapon, butat the moment of doing so it was discharged, apparently at the driverhimself, for the bullet grazed his temple.
Finding himself unable to turn the pistol on his assailant, theruffian saw a chance of deflecting the muzzle sufficiently to hit thenew-comer, as he thought, and he fired, missing him by the narrowestmargin conceivable.
Before he could fire again a vigorous kick of the driver sent theweapon flying off in the darkness.
"Keep your hands off!" called Durrell, the moment he discovered hisfriend was near him; "I can manage him alone. If you want to doanything get ready to tie him."
That was an easy matter, for stage-drivers are always supplied withextras, and a little skill will enable one to get along without a fewstraps already in use.
Durrell found his customer tough and powerful. He held him fast forsome seconds, but he seemed as tireless as his assailant, and thecontest would have been prolonged with the possibility of the fellowworking himself loose and darting off among the trees; but fullymindful of this danger, the New Englander had recourse to heroicmeasures.
He tightened his grip on the fellow's throat until he gasped forbreath. This was repeated to the danger point, though the mancontinued to struggle as long as he had the power.
But Durrell had no wish to punish him beyond what was necessary. Henow called to the driver that he could give some help if he wished.Bill appeared to be bristling with straps and ropes, and was eager todo something, for, truth to tell, he felt ashamed that, after all hehad said to the New Englander, the latter had attacked the fellow sobravely, while until this moment the one chiefly concerned had givenno help at all. He was anxious to make amends.
Reading the purpose of his captors and knowing that if bound all helpwas at an end, the robber struggled like a wild cat. He fought,kicked, struck, bit, and shouted to his friends to come to his help,addressing them by names without number, but all in vain; he could nothave been more helpless if enclosed by a regiment of men. Bill Lenmanwas skilled in tying knots, and in less time than it would be supposedthe prisoner was so firmly bound that he resembled a mummy, so far asthe use of his limbs was concerned.
The moment came when he gave up in despair. He saw the game was over,and it was throwing away his strength to resist further. While he hadbeen so ready with speech, he ceased all utterances when the firstknot was secured between his elbows, and resolutely refused to utteranother word.
"What are you going to do with him?" asked Lenman, as they stood himlike a post on his feet.
"What are we going to do with him? why, take him to Piketon, ofcourse, and deliver him to justice!"
"I know that," replied Bill, with a laugh, "but I was thinking whetherit was best to stow him under the seats or strap him with the trunkson behind; he might enjoy riding with _that_ box."
"No; we'll take him inside with us; some of the straps might give wayand we would want to be within reach of him. Where's them boys?" askedDurrell, abruptly; "I forgot all about them while this business wasgoing on."
The attack and capture of the would-be stage robber consumed verylittle time, but it gave a chance to our young friends which theyquickly turned to good account. They saw but one possible result ofthe affair, and concluded to make a change of base. It could not bedoubted that they had done so, since neither was within sight or call.
Lenman had paid no attention to them, and it cannot be said that heregretted their absence. True, their fare remained uncollected, butthat was not the first time he had carried passengers free, and hecould stand it again.
The prisoner was deposited with as much care on the middle seat of thestage as though he were a package of dynamite. Durrell placed himselfbehind him where he could forestall any movement on his part. It wouldnot be supposed that there was any chance of anything of that kind,but Durrell had read and heard enough of such people to understand thedanger of trusting to appearances. The exploits of some of the gentryin the way of tying and untying knots would rival the Davenportbrothers and other so-called "mediums." Then, too, Durrell thought, hemight have other weapons about him, for no search had been made of hisgarments. Anyway, it cannot be doubted that the New Englander was wisein maintaining such a vigilant watch of the fellow.
Despite this exciting incident, which threw Bill Lenman's nerves intoa more turbulent state than for years, he could not help smiling as helistened to the efforts of the New Englander to open conversation withthe prisoner. Durrell's curiosity was of the kind that it could not bekept in the background. He was interested in the man and was resolvedto learn more about him.
He began in his insinuating way to inquire as to his name, how long hehad been in this bad business, what led him to make such a dreadfulmistake, where he was born, whether his parents were living, how manybrothers and sisters he had, and so on with a list of questions whichno one could remember.
But the prisoner never once opened his mouth. He saw nothing was to begained by so doing, and, though it is not to be supposed he would havetold the truth, he did not trouble himself to state fiction.
At the moment of emerging from Black Bear Swamp, Lenman was alarmed bybeing hailed by a strange
r who asked for a ride. This was unusual, forhe was now so close to Piketon that the walk would not have taxed anyone.
Durrell whispered to the driver to refuse to take him up, for no doubthe was a confederate of the prisoner; but Lenman thought it moredangerous to refuse than to comply. He therefore checked his team, andtold the applicant that the town was near by and he was about toindulge in a needless expense; but the stranger cared naught for that,and hastily climbed up in front and seated himself beside the driver,who peered at him as best he could in the gloom, but was unable tomake out his features.
"If he tries any tricks," said Lenman to himself, "I'll neck himbefore he knows it; after that chap from New England showed such pluckI aint going to back out of the next rumpus."
Evidently the driver felt the force of the example, for he kept aclose eye on the stranger. Besides this, he thought the occasionwarranted a little extra urging of the horses, and he put them to thebriskest trot they had shown since leaving Belmar.
Ethan Durrell, as may be supposed, was fully as anxious as the driver,for he was almost certain the man in front was a friend of theprisoner, and if so, there was little to prevent a rescue, since, as Ihave shown, neither Durrell nor Lenman was armed.
The relief, therefore, was great when the lights of the little townglimmered through the darkness, and shortly after the stage came to ahalt in front of the old-fashioned inn, where it had stopped regularlyfor so many years.
The passenger last picked up, there was reason to believe, had neverseen the rogue before. The latter may be dismissed with the remarkthat, having been caught in the commission of his crime, he receivedfull and merited punishment therefor.
The Campers Out; Or, The Right Path and the Wrong Page 12