The saddle boys on the plains

“This is stunning news you are giving me, Mr. Riley!” exclaimed Frank.

“I reckon it is, Frank,” replied the ex-foreman. “And the worst of it is, that I was never able to keep on the track of the three thieves; because these strikers ran me into the engine house here, and threatened me with a rope if I tried to show up again. So I’ve been stalled for hours; and all the time those robbers have been getting farther and farther away.”

“Do you know when it happened?” asked Bob, his lawyer nature coming to the front when the emergency arose.

“Two nights ago, I’ve got good reason to believe, from the signs,” answered Mr. Riley.

“But you didn’t know it right away; is that it?” asked Frank.

“I had so much to look after in other quarters that I didn’t take a peep in at the strong room until this morning. Then I was surprised to find that the place had been cleaned out. There was about two hundred pounds of gold in three strong sacks, and it was gone! I reckon it would add up to something like fifty thousand dollars’ worth, Frank!”

The late overseer looked haggard and glum. He acted as though he had had a hard time of late, with everything against him.

“Do you suspect any of the men employed here?” asked Bob.

“I did, but changed my mind. There isn’t a man missing, that I can see. I found the tracks of the three robbers, and the marks don’t tally with the boot-prints of any miner. They were made by men from civilization, who wore shoes of an up-to-date pattern.”

“But, Mr. Riley, how do you know all this, when we found you shut up here in the engine house?” asked Frank.

“I hunted for the tracks after discovering the robbery,” replied the other, moodily. “After I had found them I trailed the three thieves half a mile out of camp. Then, anxious to take up the job in the right way, I came back to get some guns and men. That was when the mob met me, and chased me in here, where I had prepared for a long siege.”

“Then it’s your opinion, is it, that three strangers broke into the strong room, and rifled it; after which they hurried away?” asked Bob.

“That about covers the ground; and as they have had a big start I’m afraid its goin’ to be a hard job overhaulin’ ’em,” replied Mr. Riley.

“Perhaps it may,” said Frank, as he looked serious; “but two hundred pounds is some weight to carry any distance; and we have good horses, if they happen to take to the plain.”

Here was a new dilemma. He had expected that with the strike well settled, peace would descend on Cherry Blossom mine; and that presently he and Bob might gallop back home with cheering news.

But it would be another thing to find himself compelled to tell his father that some clever robbers had broken open the strong room, where the proceeds of the run at the stamp mills were kept behind lock and key, making a safe get-away.

“Bob, you hear what’s been going on; how are we going to stand for it?” Frank asked, turning to his chum.

“By doing our level best to get that treasure back!” was the prompt response.

“You hear, Mr. Riley,” continued Frank. “Suppose, then, you turn things over to the new superintendent right now, and come along with us.”

“I’m just wild to get started, Frank,” declared Mr. Riley. “Because, you see, I feel that I’m partly to blame for this loss. But, if it hadn’t been for the upset condition of things around that time, make up your mind it could never have happened. My attention was taken up by the actions of the men. Sometimes I find myself wondering whether it just happened that way; or if the strike wasn’t engineered to cover the crime of robbery.”

“The chances are,” said Bob, deliberately, “that if it was done by outside parties, they saw how you were occupied by the actions of the men in striking, and took advantage of the opportunity.”

“Please take us to where the rifled strong room is, Mr. Riley,” said Frank.

“Will you let the men know?” asked the former superintendent.

“You haven’t told them, then?” queried Frank.

“Not a soul knows anything about it,” came the reply. “I was expecting to pick out a couple of fellows, and make a start after the thieves, when I bucked up against a snag, and they ran me in here. But I didn’t see Sandy, and there was no one else to take into my confidence.”

“Well, I think the men ought to know,” Frank declared. “They’ll understand that I’m ready to take them into the game; and perhaps some one may have seen the rascals, and can give us an idea about what they looked like. Come out, Mr. Riley, and let the crowd understand that you don’t suspect any of them.”

Some dark looks were cast toward the deposed overseer; but at least the men entertained a healthy respect for his muscular prowess; and nobody ever questioned his bravery. So no violence was offered him. And as soon as Frank told of the great robbery, everything else was immediately forgotten.

It happened, however, that no one among them was able to advance a promising clue in connection with the robbers. So carefully had these worthies worked that they had not been seen by a single miner, though men had been moving about on the entire night in question, sleep being out of the question at the Cherry Blossom.

“I expect to take along Mr. Riley and one other man, selected by him as a good trailer,” said Frank, when the crowd gathered around him, clamoring for a chance to do something to show their altered feelings toward the Haywood family.

“How about us, then; don’t we go along, too?” called one husky fellow.

“You will stay here, and get back on your job,” Frank remarked. “The new superintendent will settle all troubles until I can come back. The Cherry Blossom mine has been idle for two days. You must work all the harder, men, to make up for lost time. And we’re going to get that gold back, if anybody can; understand that!”

Shouts greeted these words. Those rough men could appreciate nerve, and to hear the son of their employer talk so boldly pleased them greatly.

“Three cheers for Frank Haywood!” called one big miner.

It thrilled the boy to hear those lusty shouts. He felt that somehow he had succeeded in winning a complete victory over these turbulent spirits. Where the obstinacy of Mr. Riley had failed, Frank’s methods had carried the day. They were all his friends now, and just as ready to build up as they had recently been to destroy. The spirit of a mob changes like the weather, and is just as fickle.

Mr. Riley led the two boys to the office. Sandy McCoy lingered to address the crowd, and try to get them to return immediately to work.

“Here’s the building, Frank,” remarked the former superintendent, as they arrived in front of a low, squat house, built of stone for the most part, and particularly strong.

“Now come back with me and I will show you just how these smart thieves tunneled under the stone wall, and managed to come up inside the strong room, without having the trouble to break the lock on the door. Every time I was in the office I saw that padlock in place, and never dreamed the bank could be empty back of that oak door.”

As he said this, Mr. Riley led the way to the rear of the building. Here it happened that there grew more or less scrub, partly concealing the foundation of the wall.

Parting this, Mr. Riley showed the boys what looked like the big burrow of a rabbit, or a hedgehog, running down at an angle of forty-five degrees, so as to pass under the stones forming the foundation of the wall.

“You can see how slick a game they set up,” remarked the man, gritting his teeth with anger and chagrin. “Perhaps they worked at this thing more than one night, and all the time I never tumbled to it. When the tunnel was finished, one of ’em just crawled through, passed out the three sacks of gold; and then they vamoosed.”

“Let’s look inside the house,” remarked Frank. “Then we’ll try to arrange for following the robbers.”

When they entered the strong room it was to find it empty, just as the former superintendent had declared was the case. No sign of any treasure could be seen.

“Is this your hat?” asked Bob, picking the article in question up.

“Never saw it before,” answered Mr. Riley.

“Then it must have belonged to one of the thieves!” suggested the boy, examining the head gear.

“Just as likely as not,” agreed the deposed superintendent. “But that isn’t goin’ to help us find out who they are, and where they can be run across right now.”

“Perhaps not,” observed Bob, as he again examined the soft, felt hat, which was of a gray color, with a black band around the crown, the whole forming a combination that would have been fairly noticeable.

“There’s nearly an hour before dark sets in,” Frank observed, “and perhaps we might get a start. Suppose you hunt up the best all-round trailer in the camp, Mr. Riley, and fetch him along. Have you horses that could be used? We might want to travel some distance, especially if the trail heads toward the Mexican border.”

“All right, Frank,” replied the other, seeming to brighten up at the chance for doing something. “I’ll be back in a little while, and we’ll make a start. If you want to look for yourself, hike over to where you see the broken rocks in a heap. Right alongside you’ll find the tracks of the robbers. We’ll fetch all the horses along.”

So Mr. Riley hurried away to carry out his part of the plan; while Frank and Bob walked over to where the rocks lay, looking very much like a grave, in the valley where the Cherry Blossom mine was being worked.

“Here they are, just as he said,” remarked Frank, as he dropped down on hands and knees, the better to examine the tracks left by the marauders.

“What do you make of them?” asked Bob, presently, as his chum arose again.

“Oh! just as Mr. Riley said; there were three in the bunch,” Frank answered.

“How about their shoes—can you tell whether they’re smaller than the boots worn by the miners?” Bob continued, as if desirous of making sure.

“Yes, that’s a fact, Bob.”

“Then it stands to reason he was right when he said the robbery had been done by strangers here,” the Kentucky boy went on to say.

“Looks that way,” Frank agreed. “Perhaps they came from Phoenix; or even far-away Los Angeles. The story of the rich Cherry Blossom has traveled far and wide; and I suppose these three rascals made up a plot to get away with the month’s run.”

“And they did it, all right,” remarked Bob. “Think you can follow the tracks, Frank?”

“The easiest thing ever,” came the reply. “Besides, right here Mr. Riley left his big footprints, so a blind man could keep on the trail. Come on, we might as well be moving. Plenty of time later on for a rest, when perhaps the dark will keep us from work.”

Frank led off as he spoke. He had learned his lesson fairly well, from having lived among cowboys for years. Besides, old Hank Coombs, the veteran cowman of the Circle Ranch, had often showed the son of his employer many tricks in connection with woodcraft.

A short time later Frank turned again to speak to his comrade.

“Here’s as far as Riley went,” he observed. “See, he swung off at this point, just as he told us, meaning to get several men with guns to go along with him. But instead he ran up against the mob rioters, who forced him to barricade himself in the engine house.”

“That was some hours ago,” remarked Bob.

“Yes, that’s true,” Frank replied.

“Lots of things could happen in that time, Frank.”

“Sure they could; but all the same there’s only one thing we’ve got to do, and that is to keep right on this trail till it brings us up with the three thieves; or else we’ll lose it in the mountains.”

He again started along the tracks of the fugitives. Bob followed close behind, where he could speak when the humor seized him, and ask questions; for Bob knew he had much to learn about the wonderful things a prairie boy knows by heart; and he never hesitated to make inquiries.

“How old did Mr. Riley say this trail was, Frank?” he presently asked.

“Nearly two days; but it’s nearly as plain as when it was made; and if he can fetch along a man worth shucks, we oughtn’t to have any trouble about following.”

“Well, here comes our friend, Mr. Riley, and he’s got a bunch of horses along; besides another man,” Bob remarked; as he looked back over his shoulder.

“That’s good,” said Frank, though he did not cease his efforts to follow the plainly-marked trail.

Presently they were overtaken by Mr. Riley and the other man, whom he introduced as Sim Garrison, once something of a noted character among the Indians, with whom he had lived many years, and who, the former superintendent declared, had no superior as a trailer.

“All we’ve got to do, boys,” said Mr. Riley, who was mounted on a big and powerful bay horse, and seemed to be heavily armed, “is to plug along behind Sim, leaving him to do the work. If the time should ever come when we could overtake those three thieves, then we’ll have a chance to show our hands.”

And that was what they started out to do, as the sun sank lower and lower in the glowing west. Through the basin or valley in which the famous mine lay, they pushed.

“Seems to know his business, all right,” commented Bob, as he ranged alongside his chum; the two horses had been relieved of much of their loads so that they felt fresher than when the boys arrived, a short time before.

“I reckon yes,” replied Frank, who had been observing Sim Garrison closely for some little time. “And these experienced trailers can even follow the track of a man on the darkest night, you know.”

“You mean by the use of a lantern or a torch?” remarked Bob. “I can well believe that, because already I’ve seen you do the same stunt. These fellows may get away from us, Frank, but they’ve got to hustle to do it, let me tell you.”

“That’s what, Bob. But look at Sim halting now.”

“Perhaps he’s run up against a snag already. You’ve often told me there are lots of ways to hide a trail; perhaps these sharp thieves have done that same thing!” Bob ventured to remark.

“But all the same I don’t believe so,” Frank went on, as he urged the led horse which the trailer was to ride later on, to increase its speed from a walk to a little canter.

“How’s that?” demanded his chum, quickly, with the air of “if you know all that just communicate a little of it to a tenderfoot like me, can’t you, Frank?”

“Oh! well, just because he doesn’t happen to look disappointed, for one thing. He’s found something that surprised him more or less. But we’ll soon know, Bob.”