“It belongs to me—and I am bound to have it.”
“You are a jailbird, Mr. Baxter. How can you hold such a property now?”
The criminal winced and clenched his fists.
“Don’t be quite so plain-spoken, Rover, it doesn’t set well. I say the claim is mine.”
“Well?”
“You are in my power.”
“Granted.”
“Isn’t your life worth something to you? To be sure it is. Then why not try to make terms to save it?”
“You are fooling with me. You cannot be it earnest, Arnold Baxter.”
“You’ll soon see if dad aint in earnest,” burst out Dan.
“I am not fooling, Rover, I mean every word of what I say. If you want to save your life you must make terms with me.”
“What sort of terms?”
“You must write a letter to your brothers and the man who was with you and get them to return without delay to the East.”
“And after that?”
“After they have returned to the East we will set you free, providing you swear to follow them and all of you swear to keep out of Colorado in the future.”
“And if I refuse?”
“If you refuse your life shall pay the forfeit,” answered Arnold Baxter. “Come now, which do you choose?”
CHAPTER XXVII
DASH FOR LIBERTY
For the minute after Arnold Baxter spoke Tom had nothing to say. The man had offered terms, and if he did not accept them his very life would be in danger.
Now, had Tom been the hero of some dime novel he would have shouted at once, “I refuse your offer—do your worse, base villain that you are!” But being an everyday American boy, with a proper regard for his own life, he revolved the situation in his mind with great care.
“Well, what do you say?” demanded Arnold Baxter impatiently.
“You had better accept dad’s offer,” broke in Dan.
“I don’t know what to say,” was the slow answer. “This, you must remember, is brand new to me.”
“My offer is a very fair one, Rover. You have gotten yourself in a bad fix, and you can consider yourself lucky if you get out of it with a whole skin.”
“If I write the letter, how are you going to deliver it to my two brothers and Jack Wumble?”
“We will find a way.”
“And supposing they refuse to go back, what then? I won’t be to blame for that.”
“They won’t refuse—not when they realize that such a refusal means death to you.”
“They may. Dick is quite headstrong at times. I don’t want to do what I can for you and then suffer anyway.”
“Well, if you do your best I will remember it when it comes to a final settlement,” responded Arnold Baxter, with more grace than Tom had anticipated.
“Let me think it over for a few hours, and I will give you an answer,” said the boy, and though they coaxed and threatened, neither of the Baxters could get any more out of him. At last they left him in disgust, first, however, seeing to it that his bonds were as tight as ever.
As soon as Tom was left alone he looked around for some means by which he might escape from his tormentors. The room was square, with a small window at one side and a broad fireplace at the other. At one end was the door and at the other the cupboard to which he had been fastened.
In his schooldays Tom had been a great hand at doing rope tricks, and when his hands had been tied he had taken care to make his enemies adjust the lariat as loosely as possible. Now, with a dexterous twist or two he cleared his hands, although the effort drew blood on one of his wrists. But, under the circumstances, Tom counted this as nothing.
As soon as he was free the boy tiptoed his way to the window and looked out. He saw Noxton and Roebuck sitting on a fallen tree talking earnestly. Close to the door of the house stood the Baxters, and Arnold Baxter was laying down the law to his son, although what it was all about Tom could not determine.
“I can’t go by the window,” he mused. “And if I try the door—”
He stopped short, for just then Dan Baxter started to come into the building. But his father stopped him.
“Let the boy alone,” cried the elder Baxter. “He’ll come around all right, never fear.”
“Oh, you’re too soft with him,” returned the son. “I’d give him a cowhiding.” Nevertheless, he walked away, and then all became as silent as before.
Tom realized that whatever was to be done must be done quickly, and walking back he surveyed the broad chimney. It was wide open to the sky, and at one corner of the opening he saw the waving green branch of a tree.
“If I could only get up into the tree,” he thought, and no sooner thought than tried. The chimney was dirty, and he was soon covered with soot from head to foot. But being rough the chimney afforded easy footings, and he reached the top without great effort. The tree branch was scarcely two feet from the top.
With great caution the boy peered from the chimney. Noxton and Roebuck were still talking earnestly and both had their backs partly turned in his direction. The Baxters were out of sight.
As quickly as it could be accomplished, Tom stood upon the top of the chimney, caught the tree limb and pulled himself up. The branch swayed violently with his weight, but did not break, and soon he was close to the trunk and out of sight.
“So far so good!” he murmured. “But what shall I do next?”
This question was soon decided. There was another tree close at band, but further from the house than the first, and into this he leaped, and made his way across it to where a drooping branch fell directly over a heavy clump of bushes. Down this branch went Tom and dropped into the bushes as silently as a cat.
It must be confessed that the boy’s heart was now thumping like a steam engine. What if he was discovered? He was afraid that his enemies would kill him on the spot.
He looked around and saw the horses tethered among the bushes a hundred feet further on. If only he could gain the animals he felt that escape would be almost secured.
He crawled along the ground like a snake. Once he had to go around a big rock and actually tear his way among the thorns, which scratched him in a dozen places. But behind the rock the shelter was greater, and unable to stand the suspense any longer he set off on a run for his horse.
The animal saw him coming and set up a low whinny of recognition. Then all of the horses swayed around in a bunch, for they were tethered close together.
This gave Tom another idea, and he not only untied his own horse but likewise all of the others. He kept hold of the other lariats as he mounted his steed.
“Get up!” he said sharply but in a low tone, and touched on the flank the horse set off on a gallop, followed by the other animals.
“Hullo, something is wrong with the hosses!” he beard Bill Noxton cry. Then came a rush through the bushes. At the sound Tom bent as low in the saddle as possible and urged his horse to do his best.
“They are stampeding!” came from Arnold Baxter. “Whoa there! whoa! How did they manage to get loose?”
“The prisoner!” shouted Roebuck. “He is on the leading horse! He has escaped us!”
“Impossible!” gasped the elder Baxter. “Why, I have been watching the house—”
“No matter, it’s Tom Rover!” interrupt Dan Baxter. “See, there he goes—and he taking all of our horses with him!”
At this Arnold Baxter drew his pistol and the others also brought forth their firearms. But Tom’s steed was not a large one, and while he crouched low in the saddle the horses behind kept his enemies from getting more than an occasional glimpse of him.
On and on went the boy, the horses’ hoofs clattering loudly over the rocky trail. The men shouted loudly for him to halt, and several pistol shots rang out, but no damage was done. Soon the enemy was left i
n the distance.
As soon as he felt that he was safe for the time being, Tom brought his horse down to a walk, in order that he might consider the situation.
Where were the others? That was the all important question. He had escaped from the men who wished him harm, but he was now no better off than when he had fallen in with them.
“But they are a good deal worse off,” he thought grimly. “I don’t believe they’ll want to travel around very far on foot.”
It was now sunset, and the youth felt that night would soon be upon him. He did not know which way to turn, although of one thing he was certain—that he wished to keep as far away as possible from those who had held him a prisoner.
Presently he gained the entrance to a small wood, and as it was now too dark to go on he determined to rest for the night. He tied up all of the horses and tried to make himself comfortable at the foot of a large tree. For a long time he could not sleep, but at last he dozed off. His sleep was full of horrible dreams, and his awakening was a rude one.
CHAPTER XXVIII
BILL NOXTON COMES TO GRIEF
“We’ve found him, boys! Here’s the hoss thief, with five o’ the hosses with him!”
“Git up thar, young feller, an’ give an account o’yerself!”
Tom did not hear these words, but he felt a sharp kick in the ribs and gave a gasp of pain and surprise.
“Let up, Sam,” he murmured. “Can’t you keep your feet out of my—” He broke off short and stared around him. “Wha—what does this mean?” he stammered.
Three men stood around him-rough-bearded men, each heavily armed.
“It means thet we have collared ye!” answered one of the men sharply. “Git up!” And he kicked Tom again.
“See here, keep your toe to yourself!” cried Tom hotly. “If you are Arnold Baxter’s tools you can treat me half decently, anyway,” and he leaped up and faced the crowd.
“Who is Arnold Baxter?” questioned the leader of the men quickly.
“I guess you know well enough.”
“Oh, all right if you don’t want to talk. But let me say, young feller, thet you have got yerself in a fine mess. Don’t yer know ez how they hang hoss thieves in these parts?”
“A horse thief! What do you mean? I am no horse thief, if that’s what you are driving at.”
Tom’s straightforward manner appeared to impress all three men. But the leader shrugged his shoulders.
“Ef ye aint no hoss thief, how is it ye hev got all these critters with ye?” he questioned triumphantly.
“I can explain that easily enough. That horse is my own, purchased in Gunnison from Ralph Verbeck the dealer there. Those horses belong to a set of rascals who captured me and made me their prisoner. I got away from them, and to prevent them from following me I took their horses with me.”
“Hurmph! Thet’s a slick story!”
“It’s the plain truth. Do I look like a horse thief?”
“Not persackly, youngster. But two o’ them hosses I know well, an’ they war stolen. My pards hyer kin prove it.”
“Well, I know nothing about that. I have told you the plain truth. You don’t claim the horse I said was mine, do you?”
“No. But wot’s this tale ye tell of bein’ captured?”
Anxious to set himself straight with these men, who appeared to be of upright character, Tom told the larger part of his story, to which the crowd listened patiently. Then they asked him a number of questions.
“I reckon you are O.K.,” said the leader at last. “I know Jack Wumble, and I know he wouldn’t be attached to a gang that wasn’t on the level.”
“I don’t care what becomes of those horses,” went on Tom. “Only I want my own.”
“You shall have it, lad. But you must put us on the trail o’ them thieves. It runs in my mind thet I know this Bill Noxton, ‘though perhaps not by thet handle. Thar used ter be a hoss thief down hyer called Slinky Bill, with a scar on his cheek an’ one tooth missin’ in front—”
“That’s your man. The tooth is still missing and the scar is there as plain as day.”
“Then he’s the gent as we wants to be introduced to,” put in one of the other men.
“I calkerlated he had left these diggin’s fer good,” added the third newcomer.
“I can try to lead you back to their camp,” said Tom, “although I am not altogether sure of the trail. They were stopping at a long, low deserted house, having a wide chimney, and with several big trees growing close by.”
“Dillwell’s old overland hotel, I’ll bet a hoss,” cried the leader of the men.
“It must be about ten miles from here,” went on Tom.
“Jest about, youngster. Come, we want ye to go with us.”
“I will do that willingly, if you’ll promise to protect me from the rascals. I suppose they are mad enough to shoot me down on sight.”
“We’ll see ye through—ef everything is straight,” answered Hank Yates, for such was the name of the leading spirit of the party.
The men had their own horses close at hand, and soon all were in the saddle, with the extra horses bringing up the rear, as before. The men had rations with them, and offered Tom some crackers and a bit of meat as they progressed.
They were not a bad crowd, although very rough and stern, and it developed presently that Hank Yates had known the Kennedy who had been Anderson Rover’s partner in mining operations.
“He war a good man,” said Yates. “A banrup, whole-souled critter. It’s a pity he had to turn up his toes, with wuss men hangin’ on an never dyin’, at all.”
Half of the distance to the old hotel had been covered, when on coming out on a little hill one of the men called attention to a man and a boy riding along the top of a ridge, a short distance away.
“It’s my brother Sam and Jack Wumble!” ejaculated Tom. “Oh, but am I not glad to see them again!”
He set up a shout and waved his cap, and soon Wumble saw him and waved his hand in return. Then the old miner and Sam came forward at top speed.
“Tom!” came from Sam, and he rode up close and almost embraced his brother. “Where in the world have you been?”
“Been with the enemy,” answered Tom. “I can tell you I paid up for going to sleep on the trait!” he added half comically. The meeting made his heart ten times lighter than it had been.
“Where is Dick?”
“Thet’s the wust on it,” answered Wumble. “Dick had a dirty tumble, and we can’t find him nowhar.”
Of course the stories on both sides had to be told. Jack Wumble could not keep from laughing when told that Tom had been mistaken for a horse thief.
“Not but wot ye run away with them hosses slick enough,” he added slyly.
Dick’s disappearance sobered Tom greatly.
“Can it be possible that he has been drowned?” he asked.
“I crawled down to the river, but couldn’t find hide nor hair of him,” answered Wumble.
Soon all were on the way to the old hotel. As they drew closer Yates warned them to be cautious.
“Perhaps we can do a bit o’ surprisin’,” he explained.
“Here comes Noxton!” exclaimed Tom.
“Slinky Bill, sure enough,” returned Yates, and one of his companions nodded.
Noxton was still fifty feet away when he saw them, and gave a shout of consternation. Then he turned and tried to run away.
“Stop!” called Hank Yates. “Stop, or I’ll fire on ye!”
But instead of stopping Noxton ran the faster. Seeing this, the man of the plains raised his pistol, took steady aim, and fired. Noxton was hit in the leg and went down in a heap, shrieking with pain.
CHAPTER XXIX
LOCATING THE LOST MINE
While Yates and another of the men ran toward Noxton to make hi
m a prisoner, the others turned their attention to the Baxters and Al Roebuck.
The Baxters were hiding behind a clump of bushes, but now, as soon as discovered, they took to their heels, making sure that the bushes and trees should keep them screened, so that there would be no danger from a fire such as had brought down their unlucky companion.
“They’re on us, dad!” groaned Dan Baxter, “Oh, why did we ever come out here!”
“Silence, Dan,” whispered Arnold Baxter. “If we don’t keep still they may shoot us down in cold blood.” And then Dan became as mum as an oyster, although his teeth chattered with terror.
On went father and son, down a hill and into a deep valley where the rocks were numerous and the growth thick. Several shots flew over their heads, causing Dan to almost drop from heart failure.
“I—I can’t ru—run much further!” he panted.
“Come, here is an opening between the rocks,” whispered Arnold Baxter. “In you go, before it is too late. If they follow us, we can sell our lives as dearly as possible.”
Dan gave a groan at this, and slipped into the hollow. He did not wish to sell his life at any price.
“Let us put out a—a flag of truce,” he whined. “Give them everything, father, but don’t let them shoot us!” Every ounce of courage had oozed away from him, for he had seen Noxton brought down, and thought the rascal was dead.
“Shut up, you softy!” answered his parent in a rage. “Shut up, and we will be safe. I’ll never give in to a Rover,” he added vehemently.
Tom and Sam had gone after the Baxters, with Jack Wumble behind them while the last man of the party turned to collar Roebuck. But Roebuck was game, and fired at his assailant, who fired in return, and each man was slightly wounded in the shoulder. Then Roebuck disappeared in the woods back of the old hotel, and that was the last seen of him for the time being.
The hunt for the Baxters was kept up until nearly nightfall. But they remained in hiding, and although Tom and Sam passed within fifty feet of the hollow, they were not discovered.
“They have given us the slip,” said Tom, “It’s too bad! I thought we had them, sure!”
As soon as the search was over it was discovered that two of the horses were missing. The several pistol shots had frightened them away, and in the gathering darkness they could not be located.
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