CHAPTER XVII
THE LONE SHACK
“Well,” said Bob, “I’m glad for one thing; the job will soon be over, and then we can get a little rest.”
Frank chuckled at this, upon which his chum hastily continued:
“Now, don’t think I’m sorry I came, because I’m not. Nothing could have hired me to stay below there, while you and Mr. Riley were doing things up here. All the same, I admit that I’m some tired, and when we’re through with the job I’ll throw up my hat and yell.”
“So will I, Bob,” replied Frank, seriously; “on condition that we meet success in our hunt. But here’s Mr. Riley, ready to do some more climbing; so we’d better put off talking till after we’ve done something worth while.”
After that broad hint Bob remained as “dumb as a clam,” as he himself would have expressed it.
They still followed the course of the little gurgling stream. Frank’s guess in the beginning had turned out to be all right. The shanty, or shack, whichever it might prove to be, had undoubtedly been built close to the running water. Whoever put it up originally knew the great value of a never-failing spring in the front yard; for this was a land of many deserts.
Foot by foot the three crawled upward. It was not hard going, for the incline at this point proved to be fairly easy; only the brush and undergrowth in places caused them considerable difficulty.
“It’s gone!” whispered Bob, presently, in the ear of his chum.
“Chances are it only vanished because some rock came between us and the gleam, and we’ll get another peep at the light in a minute,” Frank answered.
“Right again, Frank, for there, I just had a glimpse of it once more. And, seems to me, the light is shining brighter than ever.”
“We’re closer, for one thing,” Frank replied.
Mr. Riley did not attempt to act as leader now. Perhaps he had been observing Frank’s actions, and come to the conclusion that the lad knew more about these things than he did. As a mine superintendent Mr. Riley was in his element; but he had never professed to be an expert woodsman, or a prairie rider. Hence, he seemed more than satisfied to let Frank take the lead just now.
They had by this time drawn so close that the light could be plainly seen; and even Bob could tell that it came from some small opening in the wall of a shack, that served the purpose of ventilation, as a window, though it probably had no glass.
Frank was now using redoubled caution. Bob wondered how his chum ever managed to slip along as he did, very much after the manner of a cat creeping up on a wary bird. He seemed to make no sound at all; and Bob was painfully conscious that his own movements must seem clumsy in comparison.
But later on, when he had a chance to ask his chum about it, Frank was loud in his praise; and declared that, considering the little experience which his chum from Kentucky had had, he did remarkably well.
Of course Bob was growing more and more excited the closer they approached to the shack. He wondered what they would see there. Would the occupants prove to be the same two men whom they had chased all the way from the vicinity of the Cherry Blossom mine?
On the other hand, they might turn out to be a party of innocent prospectors, who knew nothing about the robbery of the strong room.
Bob hardly knew which way his hopes turned. Of course he wanted to get back the lost treasure of gold which had been so boldly seized; but he hoped there would be no desperate fighting. As yet he had never seen a man shot down deliberately; and he feared that Mr. Riley was in a bad temper; for he could hear him grinding his strong white teeth every time his head chanced to come close to that of the ex-superintendent.
Bob noticed one thing. They were no longer heading directly for the light, but had veered off a little. Apparently, then, Frank meant to approach it from an angle; or else he had some other nice little scheme in view.
Suddenly Bob felt the hand of his chum grip his arm. He understood from this that he was expected to remain perfectly motionless. The light was temporarily blotted out to some extent; but there was no mystery about it.
Some one had thrust a head out of the window, as though to take an observation. Bob found himself wondering whether the fellow was interested in the state of the weather; or imagined that he had heard some suspicious sound near by, which deserved attention.
For perhaps a full minute they all remained there like statues. Then the light shone again. The man had drawn in his head!
Frank moved silently away again, still veering to one side. He gently drew Bob after him, as though giving him to understand that it was his wish they should all keep together.
In this manner, then, they reached the wall of the shack, which Bob speedily discovered was constructed of logs.
Even before they had arrived Bob made a discovery. He knew why Frank had concluded that the risk of peeping in at the window was too great. There was a far better opportunity to accomplish the same purpose without taking any chances.
When it was originally built, perhaps, the cabin had been made wind-proof in the customary way by filling the chinks between the logs with mud; which, drying in the course of time, would resemble mortar. In numerous places this had fallen away, leaving little gaps, through which the light came, varied according to the size of the opening.
Bob saw that these presented excellent peepholes. By putting an eye to such a crack pretty nearly all the interior of the cabin might be explored, granted that the light remained within.
And again did Bob find occasion to admire the smartness of his chum, while mentally deploring his own lack of the same quality.
Each of the three creepers selected a crack for his field of operations, and quickly put his eye to it.
What Bob saw, his two companions also gazed upon. It did not amount to much, for the lone cabin in the foothills was utterly devoid of anything in the shape of comforts, showing that it had long been deserted.
Two men were in sight. They sat upon a couple of old chairs that had once been built by the pioneer occupying the cabin, and left behind when he departed for regions unknown. There was a slab of wood that served as a table, such as it was; and upon this stood a lantern.
A fire crackled upon the hearth, and some sort of meal seemed to be cooking in a kettle; for the steam was coming out under the lid, and there was also an odor of beans.
Bob did not like the looks of the two men. Perhaps they might be prospectors; but their faces were certainly vicious ones. And judging from their appearance, they had lately been through more or less hard luck. They looked tired and ugly.
Bob immediately came to the conclusion that these must be the men he and his comrades had chased all the way from Cherry Blossom mine. They were talking at intervals, but while the murmur of their voices came to his ear, he could not make out a single word they said. The stream happened to drop several feet in a little waterfall close by; and this created a volume of sound calculated to deaden any ordinary noise.
Bob pulled Frank’s head down close to his mouth, so he could whisper. It was very important, in his eyes at least, that he should start off right. If these two men were only strangers, in whom they had no interest, what folly for him to keep on believing that they were the gold thieves.
“Are they the ones we chased?” was what he whispered into Frank’s ear.
“Yes, sure!” came the reply; “and I know one only too well. It’s Reddy Cramer. Mr. Riley knows him, too.”
Frank had taken pattern from Bob in drawing the head of the other down, so he might say these few words directly into his ear.
Bob made no reply. None seemed necessary under the circumstances. Yes, he remembered hearing all sorts of stories about that same Reddy Cramer. Frank had told him how the man had given so much trouble at the mine; and some six months back had been run out of camp, with a warning that he would be harshly handled should he ever dare come back.
Reddy had evidently waited his time about returning. And he had formed a plan whereby he could have the laugh on the superintendent. Perhaps he knew about the threatening strike. Possibly he may even have had friends fomenting trouble at the Cherry Blossom, so as to make his raid the more easily carried out. If one-half that had been told about Reddy were true, he would have been equal to this.
But, somehow, Bob thought the squatty man with the red hair did not look as happy as he might for one who had just carried a brilliant stroke of business to completion. In fact, he seemed to have a dark scowl on his face. And as Bob noted his actions he saw him bring his clenched fist down on the slab of wood serving as a table, with considerable vim, as he said something to his mate.
This latter was a tall, lean fellow. He had a dark skin, and Bob fancied that possibly he was a Mexican, though he dressed as an American. Whether a gambler, or just an ordinary business man gone wrong, if his face were an index to his character, he must be a good match for Reddy.
Bob now began to wonder what the next move would be. If these were the robbers, of course they must be captured. Could this be done without a fight? They looked like desperate men, and must be heavily armed. Having once gained possession of the gold such fellows would certainly not give up their prize tamely.
This brought another thrill in its train. Bob had never been closely connected with any real out and out “scrap,” as the boys of Circle Ranch would call it. He thought longingly of those same boys right now, and wished a few of them might be along to throw the weight of their influence in the scale.
True, with Mr. Riley to assist, they were three against two; but then there could hardly be any comparison between a pair of half grown boys, and these desperate men.
But, as has been said before, Bob was not lacking in what the boys of the ranch called “sand.” He shut his teeth firmly together, and made up his mind that no matter what was required of him, he would do his level best to fill the bill. Frank must have no occasion to feel ashamed of his Kentucky chum.
Besides, if this bold robbery were let go unpunished, it would undoubtedly serve as a bait to tempt others to try the same game. Consequently the rich gold mine must soon become an unprofitable business. And his father had a heavy interest in the successful working of the Cherry Blossom.
He began to speculate as to how they ought to manage so as to take the pair of scoundrels by surprise. Two of them might jump in through the open door, which was on the side of the cabin opposite the window, and thus uphill; while the other could lean through the window, and call upon the men to throw up their hands.
Or perhaps Frank might think it worth while to hang around a bit. The men looked dead tired, and would have to lie down soon. While they slept they might be taken by surprise, and captured the more easily.
So Bob was weaving fancies as he knelt there, and glued his eye to his crack between two logs. Frank was alongside, and, just beyond, Mr. Riley occupied himself in much the same fashion.
It was while the Kentucky boy was trying to figure upon the best plan of action, just to see how near he could come to what must be passing in Frank’s mind, that he became aware of a certain fact that seemed to alter conditions completely.
The window was over on the left, but plainly seen from his peep-hole. He chanced to glance that way, possibly his eye being attracted by some slight movement, Bob never knew. And to his utter astonishment he discovered a human face thrust cautiously up above the sill, while a pair of keen eyes ranged around the interior of the lone shack on the hillside!