CHAPTER VI
A Hold-up
As Jack looked down into the coach with his head thrust through thewindow of the lantern, the view he was able to obtain of the contentswas infinitely clearer than that he had had when a dirty pane of glassintervened between him and the interior. Almost directly beneath him wasthe man holding his revolver levelled, while a little to the left, hisback propped against the side of the coach, was the prisoner. He washeavily-moustached, and his clothes bore witness to the fact that he wasa railway employee. Farther off were the other two, young men to lookat, and from their general appearance hardly the class of individuals tolend themselves to violence. But good looks are not always a criterionof good manners. It was very clear that both were unscrupulous ruffians.
"Now yer can jest listen here, conductor," one of them was saying inloud tones, so that the roar of the train should not drown his words,and with a menace in his voice which there was no mistaking; "ye've gotter weaken right now, and without any more bobbery, or----"
He wagged his head at the revolver, while the rascal who held the weaponsquinted along the sights.
"Or what?" demanded the prisoner, his voice calm, his courage unshaken.
"Or get what yer deserve. Yer've heard tell of us before, I guess; butif yer ain't, why, we're Bill Buster's band, and that'll tell yer whatto look out for. Now all we want is an answer to a little question.Whar's the strong box? Even if yer don't tell us, and we have to putlead into your carcass, it won't make much difference, 'cos, we'll havethe whole train easy, and then it ain't hard to find the box. By tellin'us, yer jest make the thing easier and quicker. Now, whar is it? Numberthree coach? Eh?"
"Go and find fer yerselves," came the bold answer. "I ain't goin' tosay. Look for yerselves."
Sturdily the prisoner faced his captors, and it seemed that he wouldremain stubborn. But a revolver held at the head of a defenceless manhas a way of persuading; for the threat these rascals had made was noidle one. It was clear they would shoot the conductor without thesmallest compunction.
"Wall, a man has only one life, and so you'd better have the answer,"said the conductor at last, after a painful pause. "Number four's thewagon."
"Good! Thought you wasn't a fool," said the spokesman for the bandits."Now for the amount. It war clearin' day back thar, and the bank hassent all the stuff it could spare. How much?"
"Guess it's not far short of twenty-five thousand dollars," said theconductor grudgingly. "But thar ain't nothin' definite on the way-bills.One jest gets ter kind of hear."
"Twenty-five thousand," cried the leader of the men below, a note oftriumph in his voice. "And thar's fifty-six passengers in all. Take 'emat ten dollars a head, which is a small allowance; that means quite fivehundred dollars more. But they'll have a heap, some of 'em. They'regoin' down to buy farms, and stock, and sich like. Now look ye here,conductor. Ye're a sensible man, as yer've proved, and we ain't got nogrudge agin yer, so long as yer don't get up ter no tricks. Ef yer do,my mate here'll have a talk with yer slippy."
"Yer ain't got any cause ter bother," came the answer. "Do I look as ifI could do anything?"
The conductor cast his eyes down at the cords which bound him hand andfoot, and then laughed harshly.
"Reckon it'll mean a lost job to me," he said. "But give me a smoke. Oneof yer may happen ter have a weed."
One of the conspirators produced a cigar promptly, bit off the end, and,having placed it in the conductor's mouth, held a light to the weed.
"What I call a sensible man," said the leader of the ruffians. "Now wecan git ter thinking serious of this affair. Number four's the wagon.Jim, ye'll make along fer that, and stand up at the far end. Tom here'lldrop to the rails and run to the engine. I'll be with Jim before thetrain's stopped. She'll begin to go steadier soon, fer we're about atthe foot of the long draw-up, and the incline soon tells upon her. Whenshe's going slower you two can slip on to the footboards and make alongto the first coach. I'll jest bring her up with the screw brake. That'sclear? Then best have a look to see how the boards lie."
From the manner in which the rascals set about their work of raiding thetrain it was clear that they were old hands. The two told off to goforward did not trouble to wait till the pace had diminished. They threwopen the door of the coach and swung themselves out on to thefootboards. Then they moved along them with an ease which put Jack'sefforts to shame, and, having reached the second coach, sat down on theboards. By then the train was well on the incline, and the pace wasgetting less. Half a mile farther on she was making only twenty miles anhour.
"Jest the moment fer me," said the man who had remained in the coach."I'll give her the brake. Now mind it that yer don't interfere,conductor. Ef yer do, it'll mean a case of shootin'."
As cool as an icicle the man stepped across to the big wheel whichcontrolled the tail brake of the train, and swung it round till it washard on. Instantly the screech of the slippers on the wheels could beheard, while a line of fire sprang from the surface of the rails.
"That'll do it in five minutes or less," said the man, thrusting hishead out of the open door. "No engine will be able ter pull agin it. Solong! and don't git interferin'."
He, too, swung himself out of the coach, leaving the prisoner alone,with Jack still staring in through the lantern. And let the readerimagine for a moment the struggle going on in our hero's mind. Oncebefore, but a short while ago, he had endeavoured to thwart a crime, tocome between robbers and their prey; and he himself had been accused ofthe crime he was attempting to put a stop to. The bitterness of thatbitter experience was still with him. It had clouded his young life,till he could think of little else. And here he was face to face with asimilar experience, a crime about to be committed, and he alone to standbetween the passengers on the train and the ruffians about to rob them.It was, indeed, a struggle. Jack was not naturally indecisive. He couldmake up his mind when he liked, and quickly too. But it must be ownedthat he hesitated. Fear of another terrible misunderstanding hauntedhim. Then he thought of the passengers, of the man below, and of hisresponsibility. In a moment he was clambering in through the window inthe lantern, and a second later dropped down into the coach.
"My! What, another!"
The conductor had taken him for one of the gang, and looked at him withscowling face.
"No," cried Jack emphatically. "I heard all they said, and I've come tohelp you. There!"
He drew his knife and cut the cords, setting the man free.
"Now," he said, "I've taken the first step. I'm willing to do what youmay suggest."
"But--but how on airth did yer get thar, up in the lantern?" asked theconductor. "Aer you a passenger?"
"Yes and no," answered our hero boldly. "I climbed aboard when the trainwas going, and got on the back of this coach. But I'd seen you tied upwhen I looked in through the window. I thought I'd help."
"And so ye've risked bein' shot by those villains. Lad, ye've grit inyou. Shake a paw. Now, what's ter be done? The train's almost stopping.Ah, swing that wheel back! My hands and arms are too numbed to do it.That'll let the pace git up agin, and possibly leave one of the menbehind. Next thing is to make along to the other coaches. Pull that erdrawer open. Thar's a couple of shooters thar, and they're readyloaded."
Jack followed the man's orders swiftly, and felt the train gathering wayalready. Then he brought the revolvers.
"Get a grip of one yerself," said the conductor. "Now jest rub thesearms of mine. That's the way. There's a bit more feelin' in 'em already.In a little I'll have a grip, and then we'll give them rascals sauce.Aer yer afraid?"
"No, I don't reckon I am," answered Jack. "I'll help you."
"Then come along. Stick the shooter in your pocket and grip the rail.But I forgot, yer've had experience jest lately. One warnin' thoughbefore we move. Ef yer get a sight of those fellers, shoot! Don't wait.Shoot!"
Our hero nodded, and made up his mind to do as he was told. He waitedfor the conductor to get on to the footboard, and followed prom
ptly.Very soon they had gained the next coach.
"Next's Number four," shouted the conductor. "Let's get on the roof. Wecan make along there easier, and reach 'em better. Did yer hear that?They're at it."
The sharp sound of a pistol shot came to the ears of the two, and afterit a shrill cry. They scrambled to the top of the coach as quickly aspossible, and then went on hands and knees, and made their way alongit. At the far end they descended by means of the iron steps and rails,and again took to the footboards.
"Now get ready fer shootin'," shouted the conductor. "Thar'll be a manposted at this end, and I'm going to fire through the window at him.Jest be prepared to hop right in and take a shot at the others."
Jack hung to the step, closely hugging the coach, and watched the figureof the conductor as he scrambled farther along. He saw him stand to hisfull height and peer in through a window. His revolver was raisedswiftly, and then there came a sharp crack from the inside of the coach.The conductor dropped from the footboards without a sound, and Jackcaught a fleeting glimpse of his body bounding over the side track. Hewas alone now, and the safety or otherwise of the passengers dependedupon him.
"I'll do it," he said to himself, his blood afire, and all hesitationgone. "If I break in through the door I shall be dropped for acertainty. And if I attempt to shoot through the window I shall meetwith the conductor's fate. I'll try the roof again."
He went scrambling up, and within a minute had reached one of the roundlanterns through which the lamps were dropped. Lifting the lid, he foundhe had a fair view of the interior, for there was no lamp in thislantern, and in those days the apertures were very large when comparedwith modern fittings. Directly below him he detected a carpeted floorand one end of a seat, while a pair of legs stretched over the carpet.They evidently belonged to some unfortunate individual who had beenshot.
"Likely enough the one whose call we heard," thought Jack. "Now, let methink. From his position he fell on to his back. He didn't tumble facedownwards and then roll over. That means that the man who shot him issomewhere underneath me. I'll lean over and get a better view."
He was in the act of thrusting his head into the wide lantern, whensounds at the side of the track caught his attention. Even in spite ofthe roar of the train he heard shouts, while an instant later thedarkness was punctuated by red flashes. At the same time he became awareof the disagreeable fact that the spluttering, hissing sounds roundabout him were caused by bullets. Then he grasped the significance ofthe situation.
"Gee!" he cried. "Then they are the friends of those three rascals whoboarded the cars. Now I see through the whole business. They were to tieup the conductor, and then put the brakes on. That would bring the trainto a halt on the incline, and those men out there would ride up andsupport the robbery. Ah! They're done nicely! We've run through them. Weshall see what's going to happen."
If Jack was elated one cannot blame him. But if he thought he was goingto master the difficult situation without further trouble he was muchmistaken. He thrust his head into the lantern and took a careful surveyof the interior of the coach. Now he could see the complete figure ofthe man lying on his back, and saw that he was dead. There were fourother persons near him, crouching on the seat, and two were ladies. Justa little farther back, almost beneath where his own feet lay, a manstood with arms folded. He was tall, sunburned--for that Jack could see,since he was bareheaded--and had a pair of fine flowing moustaches. Hisarms were crossed on his breast, and his whole attitude was one ofresolution. A further effort on our hero's part showed him the muzzle ofa revolver, held within six inches of the tall man's head, and finallyof the figure of one of the robbers.
Should he fire now? Was he to shoot the man down in cold blood as itwere, though to speak the truth Jack's pulses were tingling. Was thatfair play?
Who will blame the young American that he hesitated to take life? Hewaited a second, and that wait nearly proved his undoing. The robbercaught a glimpse of him, and at once sent a stream of bullets throughthe roof. They tore through the boards on every side, sending thesplinters flying, and drumming against the ironwork of the lantern, andby the merest chance they missed Jack.
"But he'll have me if I ain't extra smart," thought our hero, determinedmore than ever now to get the best of the man. "Ah, here's something togive me a hold! I'll try through the window."
He gripped a short smokestack which projected through the roof, andholding firmly with one hand leaned over the side of the car. A windowwas directly beneath, and well within his reach. Jack broke it with thebutt of his revolver without the smallest hesitation. Then, quick aslightning, he returned to the lantern on top. One glance told him thatthe man inside was standing prepared to fire, either through the windowor through the lantern.
"I'll make him think of the lantern," thought Jack. "It's my only chancenow."
Stretched full length on the roof, with his head depending downwards, heonce more gripped the smokestack, and leaned over the edge of the car.Then he deliberately kicked the lantern with his feet, and continued todrum his toes against it. Now was the time. He stretched over till hecould obtain a clear view of the interior of the coach through thewindow, and at once caught sight of the robber standing in the sameposition as before, his eye half-fixed on the lantern, and half on thetall man standing so close to him. Up went Jack's revolver, thoughaiming was out of the question considering his inverted position. Hisfinger went to the trigger just as the rascal within caught sight ofhim. And then Jack pressed unconsciously, while at the same instant thecracked glass to his right was shivered into thousands of fragments anda cloud of cutting dust was blown into his face.
"Gee! Got him! But I do believe he's managed to hit me. Seems mightylike it. Ugh! My shoulder!"
"HE SAW THE RASCAL CRUMPLE INTO A HEAP"]
As if in a dream he saw the rascal within the coach crumple into a heap,and watched the tall man dart forward and bend over him. Then a sharp,burning pain shot through his own shoulder, and for one brief instantmade him feel faint. But it was no safe place in which to encourageweakness, and with an effort Jack braced himself to the task stillbefore him. He scrambled back on to the roof, slid to the end, anddescended the swaying steps. Then he clutched his way along thefootboard, and gained the door of the coach. It was opened by the man hehad seen standing with his arms so resolutely folded.
"Come right in! come right in!" he cried, extending a hand. "Now, whereare the others?"
Jack was winded with his exertions, but managed to answer. "One was tohave gone forward to the engine," he said quickly, "and one was to makefor this coach, where the third would join him. Where they are now Idon't know. The conductor was tied hand and foot, but I released him.But he was hit, and dropped from the train. I think we ran through themen who were waiting to help them."
"Then we've had a fine escape," came the answer. "But we've got to takethose men, and the sooner the better. Get a pull on that cord, and thenbe ready to shoot. They'll drop from the coaches the first chance theyhave, and git for their lives."
Jack tugged at the alarm fitted just outside the window, and presentlythe brakes began to grind and the train to slow down. As it did so twofigures dropped from it and raced away, Jack and his companion firing atthem, while a number of passengers in other coaches did the same. Thenlamps were brought, and an inspection made.
"Guess we're lucky, down right lucky!" exclaimed the man whom Jack hadspoken to. "Thar's one man killed in this coach. He swung round whenthis rascal entered, and put his hand to his shooter. That was quiteenough to bring a bullet his way. Reckon there wasn't a move left in therest of us. The fellow had it all his own way. A chap can't grope forhis shootin' iron when a revolver's grinnin' at him. What's the newselsewhere?"
"Much the same as yourn," came from a passenger. "We were kind erdozing, and I'd jest begun ter wonder why in thunder the chap behind hadput on his brakes so hard, specially when we were on a sharp incline,when the door bursts open, and a young chap climbs in smart. 'Hands up!'he says
, just as quiet as may be, and 'hands up!' it had ter be. We wascornered. That young chap was Bill Buster, as he'd got to be calledhereabouts, one of the expertest leaders of railway breakers and thievesthat's ever been. What's the driver say?"
"I ain't heard nothing," came from the latter, who stood inside thecoach rubbing his dirty hands with a piece of waste. "I wondered why theconductor had put on his brakes, 'cos it ain't too easy a job to pullout over the rise, particular when thar's a heavy train like this. Buthe took 'em off quick, and so we was able to pull along. Seems thar'sbeen shootin'."
"Shootin'! Rather! And it ain't the fault of the rascals as came aboardthat thar wasn't more," said the tall man. "We owe it to this here youngstranger that things ain't worse. How'd it all come about? Didn't seeyou climb aboard way back there."
"Because I climbed aboard down the road," answered Jack boldly, the oldfrankness in his eyes, his face flushed with delight and triumph. Forsuccess had at last come his way. Though he hesitated to interfere atfirst, frightened by the cruel disappointment of that other experience,he had in the end undertaken what was clearly his duty, as it would havebeen the duty of any other person similarly placed. And success had comehis way, though in gaining it he had incurred danger. His head was wellset back on his shoulders, his eyes flashed, and Jack Kingsley lookedhis old, bonny self as he answered:
"I got aboard after she'd started, and managed to reach the conductor'scoach. When I took a peep inside, there he was, tied up like a sack,with three men sitting over him. That's one of the fellows."
He nodded towards the body lying on the floor, and wondered vaguelywhether it was his bullet which had struck him, and, if so, where. Then,leaning against the woodwork of the coach, he continued:
"So I climbed to the roof," he said, "and managed to hear what was goingon. You see, there's a large lantern back there, and it has a window init. I learned all about the attack, and saw the robbers separate whilethe last put on the brakes hard. Then I slipped in quick."
"Yes," came eagerly from the assembled passengers.
"There ain't much more," said Jack lamely. "The conductor led the wayalong to coach Number four, and I followed. He was shot. Guess he's wayback there on the track, and needs our help. I climbed right up on tothe roof, and--and the gentlemen here knows the rest."
"Gee! I do. This young chap never'll have a nearer shave. There's many agrown man who would have funked it," exclaimed the tall man, "funked it,I say. But he bamboozled that fellow. How'd yer manage?"
Jack explained, lamely, that he had gripped the smokestack and kickedthe lantern with his feet.
"Smart! real smart!" exclaimed the tall passenger, while a chorus ofapproval came from the others. "Say, siree, who may yer be, and whereaer yer goin'? Yer ain't fer the plains?"
"I'm a smith," answered Jack limply, for his wound was very painful, andthe carriage excessively hot.
"A smith, and--here, what's the matter with the lad? Let him sit down.Did the rascal wing yer?"
The big man gripped our hero in his arms as if he were a child, and laidhim on the seat. Then he bent over him and spoke softly.
"Whar's the hit?" he asked. "Ah, thar ain't no more need ter ask!"
Suddenly his eyes had detected the dark stain trailing down Jack'ssleeve, while he noticed how limply the arm hung. Then his wholeattention was attracted to our hero, for Jack marked the occasion ofthis success of his by fainting. He fell back heavily on the seat, andlay there as deathly pale as the man from whom he had received thebullet.
Indian and Scout: A Tale of the Gold Rush to California Page 6