Neither horse would now stand still, and both danced around so lively that each rider had all he could do to keep his saddle. But even while his steed pranced in this fashion, old Benson managed to draw his pistol, and two additional shots rang out, both hitting the bear in the side. The roars of the beast were now incessant, and the horses threatened to bolt in spite of all the riders could do to stop them.
"Come!" cried the old scout, and turned from the scene. Thinking he meant to go off to reload, Darry followed. But when at a safe distance Benson sprang to the ground and tied his horse to a tree.
"I'd rather finish him afoot," explained the old hunter, and slipped another cartridge into his rifle. "You can stay here if you wish."
"Not much!" murmured Darry, and came down also. In a minute he was following the old scout. When they came up a second time they found the bear crawling around, roaring in a lower tone. Evidently he was more than half exhausted.
"Another good shot will finish him," sang out Joe, from a bottom limb of the tree. "Why don't you give it to him in the ear?"
"I will," answered the old scout, and circled around, watching his opportunity. At length it came—the rifle cracked sharply, and Bruin fell on his side, to rise no more.
"Hurrah! That's a big haul!" cried Darry, much delighted. "I was wishing we'd get a bear some time while we were out here."
"It's lucky the bear didn't get Joe," remarked Benson. "They generally come up a tree after their victim."
"I jumped from one tree to the other," answered the youth. "But I had quite an exciting time, I can assure you."
"How in the world did you get here?" questioned Darry, as Joe leaped to the ground. "Did you get through to another cave? Benson thought that might be the case."
"That was the case, Darry. And I've had a wonderful adventure, too," added Joe earnestly. Then he told his story, to which the others listened with close attention. When he came to mention Gilroy, Fetter, and Potts, old Benson uttered a low whistle.
"So that gang has turned up again, eh?" muttered the old scout. "This will be news to Colonel Fairfield. I reckon he'll be glad to be put on guard. If the quartermaster was held up it would prove a big loss."
"Is it true that Colonel Fairfield killed this Gilroy's chum?"
"Perhaps he did. The colonel was in that mix-up, and after it was over Dan Hickey was found dead in the bushes. But it was a fair fight, and the desperadoes knew what to expect when they went in for it."
"When does the quartermaster expect to come through with the money?"
"I don't know, Joe. Like as not it will be soon. And that being the case, we had better not lose time here, but get to the fort just as soon as we can," concluded the old scout.
As pressed as they were for time, Darry and Joe begged that the bearskin be saved, and did all they could toward helping the old scout skin the beast. With the pelt they took along about twenty pounds of the juiciest steaks.
"It's a pity to leave the rest to the wolves!" sighed Joe. "But it can't be helped. What a feast they will have!"
"I'm going to sling the beast into a tree," replied old Benson. "That may help save it until somebody else comes this way. The soldiers from the fort use the trail yonder, you know."
Soon they were on the way to where Benson and Darry had left Joe's horse. As Joe was tired from his night's adventure, his cousin and the old scout took turns in carrying him behind them. Even then his eyes would occasionally close.
"We can't make the fort to-night, that's certain," said the old scout.
"Not if we pushed on hard?" asked Darry.
"Joe can't push on as fast as that, Darry. He'll want to rest as soon as sundown comes."
"Perhaps I can get a nap at noon, while you two get dinner ready," suggested Joe. "I wonder if we'll meet those rascals anywhere on the road? I hope not, for they'd be certain to recognize me."
"We'll keep an eye open for 'em," responded Benson dryly. "And see to it that your shooting-irons are ready for use."
"Why—do you think they'd attack us?" asked Darry quickly.
"They might—if they thought we were carrying anything of value. To such desperadoes all are fish that swim near their net."
"It's a pity the government can't stamp such a gang out, Benson."
"The government has stamped out lots of 'em, lad. Why, ten years ago none of these trails was safe. Nearly every horseman and stage-coach was held up. To-day you don't hear of a hold-up once in six months."
"Is this Gilroy a very bad man?"
"He is—in a way. He's a well-educated fellow, so I've been told, and not as brutal as some. But he's committed some robberies that have no equal in the history of these parts. Once he painted himself as an Indian and went to the agency, and there collected a lot of money which was coming to the redskins, the agent taking him for Chief Snowbird of the Modocs. The trick wasn't discovered until three days later, when the real Snowbird turned up. Even then it wasn't known who did the trick."
"And how was Gilroy found out?"
"A fellow named Downes, who belonged to the gang, was captured, and he gave the secret away. But it cost Downes his life, for he got away from the soldiers, and while he was in the mountains some of his gang shot and killed him."
At this story both Joe and Darry shuddered.
"What a lawless set!" muttered Joe. "One could hardly believe it unless he saw it with his own eyes."
"In a rough country the men are bound to be more or less rough, lad. Look at California, for instance. To-day it's as quiet and orderly as Massachusetts or Illinois. But in the days of '49 it wasn't that way. Many a miner was held up for his gold dust, and many a miner's secret of a rich find was stolen from him and the miner himself murdered."
"And how long do you think it will take to make this territory perfectly safe?"
"There aint no telling about that, but probably when you are as old as I am now you'll be able to travel anywhere without fear of being stopped. The railroads are a-coming in, towns are building up, and one of these days the desperadoes and stage-coach robbers will all be a thing of the past—and a good job done."
The third horse had been found, and now Joe was riding in his own saddle. The rain of the night before had made the trail dustless, and the air was as pure and sweet as one could wish.
By noon they calculated that they had covered ten miles of the worst portion of the distance to the fort. The ride had been a strain to Joe, and when old Benson called a halt he was glad enough to slip to the ground and throw himself in the shade of a tree to rest. Darry and the old scout lit a fire, and soon had a nice steak preparing for dinner.
"He's asleep," said Darry, a little later, pointing to Joe. "Poor fellow! supposing we let him rest for a couple of hours? I haven't the heart to wake him up."
"All right," answered Benson. The pair ate their dinner without arousing Joe, and after it was over the scout sat down near at hand to smoke his stumpy brier-root pipe, filling it with cut-plug which was as black as coal, and puffing away with keen satisfaction.
Darry was more restless, and having put away the things used in preparing the meal he began an inspection of the neighborhood.
"Be careful," said old Benson, as the youth moved around. "Don't get into trouble, as Joe did."
"I'll keep my eyes open," replied Darry.
Opposite the trail was a tall spur of rocks with something of a series of natural steps leading to the top. Up these steps went the youth. Some of the climbing was difficult, but this he did not mind.
When the top was gained a magnificent panorama was spread out before him. To one side were the tall mountains, hidden in a bluish mist, to the other the vast forests and plains. Northward was the continuation of the gap they were traveling, and southward was a series of foothills, with here and there a stream or waterfall glinting brightly in the sunshine.
"How grand!" he murmured. "What a vast country this is! Thousands upon thousands of people could live here, and nobody be crowded. This would make splendid pasture for cows and sheep, and yet there isn't a single animal in sight."
Beyond the rocky spur was a similar elevation, and presently Darry crossed to this. Here there was a lone pine with several low branches, and he drew himself up and climbed to the top. He could now see much further than formerly, and his view took in a portion of the trail passed several hours before, as it wound, serpent-like, between the foothills.
"Hullo!" he cried, as he caught sight of something moving on the trail. "Three people on horseback. Can they be the desperadoes Joe met?"
He watched the riders with interest, and at last felt certain they were three men fully armed and wearing slouch hats and light-colored coats. This description tallied with that given by his cousin, and he hastened down to acquaint old Benson with the news.
"Must be the gang," said the scout. "Are they moving this way?"
"Yes."
"Then we had better move on."
Joe was awakened, and leaped to his feet, looking rather bewildered.
"I—I thought I'd take a little nap," he stammered. "I suppose I've slept a good while, haven't I?"
"About an hour and a half," answered his cousin. "Here's your dinner," and he passed it over. "We've got to move on. Those rascals are behind us."
"Behind us!"
"Don't get scared," put in old Benson. "They are a good distance back. Darry discovered 'em from yonder p'int. Eat what you want, and then it will be time enough to start."
The repast was quickly disposed of by Joe, and soon they were in the saddle once more. The long nap had refreshed the lad greatly, and he said he would now be able to ride as far as anybody.
On they went, the trail growing more difficult as the top of the mountain was gained. Here there was a stiff breeze that at times was positively cold, and both boys were glad enough to button their jackets tightly around them.
If all went well Benson calculated that they could reach Hank Leeson's place with ease before dark. This was the cabin of an old hunter and trapper who was known from one end of the Territory to the other. As mentioned at the beginning of this tale, Leeson's place was twenty miles from the fort.
"I could ride right through," said the old scout. "But you boys couldn't do it. If you tried it, you'd be so sore and stiff the next day you couldn't stand up."
At first the boys were inclined to think that the old scout was mistaken—that they could ride as far as anybody. But when, shortly after sunset, they came within sight of Hank Leeson's place both were glad to think that they would have to ride no more for the present.
"I'm sore already," whispered Darry to his cousin.
"So am I—but I didn't want Benson to know it," was the low answer. "That last mile of the trail was awfully rough."
Hank Leeson had seen them coming, and stood at the doorway of his cabin, rifle in hand. He was a tall, thin man, with black eyes that were exceedingly sharp and shrewd. When he recognized Sam Benson he dropped his firearm into a corner and ran to meet the scout.
"Downright glad ter see ye!" he said, shaking hands. "Sam, yer a sight fer sore eyes, thet's wot!"
"And I'm glad to see you, Hank," responded Benson, just as warmly. "How have things been with you?"
"Putty slow, to tell the truth." Leeson looked at the boys. "Two tenderfoots along, I see."
"Yes. This is Joe Moore, brother to the captain up at the fort, and this is Darry Germain, his cousin. Boys, this is Hank Leeson, the best trapper and all-around shot in these parts."
"Oh, come, don't be a-praisin' me so much!" cried Leeson, as he took the boys' hands in a grip that made them wince. "As fer shootin', ye kin do thet yerself as good as anybody, Sam." He looked the boys over. "Glad to know ye, lads. I know Captain Moore downright well, and he's a good soldier."
"I've got news, Hank," put in the old scout. "Joe fell in with Matt Gilroy's gang down near Buckwater Run."
"What!" roared the old trapper. "Do you mean to tell me thet measly crowd is around here ag'in?"
"Three of 'em are—Gilroy, Fetter, and a young fellow named Potts. I think Potts comes from Denver."
"I know him. His father was Ike Potts, the card-sharp. Thet blood is about as bad as any in the gang. What are they up to?"
"They are laying a trap for the quartermaster when he comes through with the soldiers' money. Joe heard part of their talk by accident. Do you know when the quartermaster is expected?"
"I do not. Ye see, ever since old Cap'n Bissile was held up the army officers keep mum about the movements of the cash-box. I reckon they have orders from Washington to do it."
"I want to warn Colonel Fairfield as soon as I can," went on the old scout.
"Yes, he ought to be warned."
"Can you lend me a fresh hoss?"
"I can."
"Then I'll be off as soon as I've had a bit of supper. The boys can stay with you all night, can't they?"
"They can, an' welcome," replied Hank Leeson.
"You are going to leave us?" queried Joe.
"Don't see any other way to do, lad. The sooner I get the news to the fort the better. I'll come back in the morning after you—or send your brother or somebody else."
"We can ride it alone, can't we?" questioned Darry.
"I wouldn't try it, if I were you. The trail is a rough one, and there are several forks where you might go astray."
"Better stay with me, lads," put in Leeson. "I'll treat ye well, never fear," and he smiled broadly.
"Thank you," returned Joe. "I was only thinking I'd like to see my brother soon, that's all."
"A few hours more or less won't make much difference," said Darry. He had looked around the trapper's cabin, and was interested. "Let us wait." And so it was arranged.
It did not take long to get a bit of supper, and in less than half an hour Sam Benson was off, astride of a powerful steed which had been Hank Leeson's pride for years.
"Jest tell him to go to the fort," said Leeson, "and he'll carry ye thar with his eyes shet," and he gave a parting salute to the old scout.
The cabin was a primitive affair of rough logs, with the chinks filled with dried clay. It contained two rooms, each about twelve feet square. Back of the cabin was a lean-to where Leeson kept his horses, two in number. There was room for more animals, so the beasts ridden by our friends were easily accommodated.
Night had fallen by the time the horses had been rubbed down and fed and the boys had finished their evening repast, and it was dark when they gathered around the doorstep to rest. Hank Leeson sat on a chopping-block, cleaning his rifle and smoking at the same time, and as the three rested Joe told of his adventure in the cave, and Darry took up the tale of the bear.
"You had a lucky escape, lad," said the trapper. "A lucky escape, an' no error. Like as not them desperadoes would have killed ye, had they caught ye."
"I've been thinking—do you imagine they'll come here to-night?" asked Darry.
Hank Leeson shook his head.
"Don't allow as they will. About a year ago I gave thet Fetter fair warnin' if he showed his face about my cabin I'd plug him full o' holes, an' I sent Gilroy the same message. They know me, an' know I won't stand any nonsense. They'll be likely to give me a wide berth. They know I aint got much worth stealin'."
"Then we ought to be safe until the soldiers get the news."
"Reckon you will be, lad," answered the trapper.
He was very much of a quaint character, and for two hours the boys sat up, listening to his tales of encounters with wild animals, desperadoes, and Indians.
"I've had my own little fun with b'ars," he said. "Got in a tree onct, and a b'ar kept me there fer a whole day. I had wounded him in the leg, and in running over a brook I dropped my gun."
"How did you get away?" asked Darry.
"I didn't know what to do fust. The b'ar had me foul, and kept right at the bottom of the tree all the time. With his wounded leg he couldn't come up, and I didn't dare to go down, and there we was—a-lookin' at each other, he a-growlin' and I a-sayin' all kind o' unpleasant things about him."
"Didn't you have a pistol?"
"No, all I had with me at the time was a powder-horn, a matchbox, and my pocket-knife. What to do I didn't know, and I was a-thinkin' I'd be starved out, when a thought struck me to blow him up with powder."
"Blow him up!" cried both boys.
"Thet's wot, lads—blow him up. I had a handkerchief, ye see, an' into this I dumped 'bout half my powder, an' into the powder I put three matches, with the ends pointing out. Then I tied powder an' matches into a hard lump and watched my chance. There was a flat rock near the roots of the tree, and putty soon Mr. B'ar squatted on this rock. Then I let drive fer the rock, an' the powder an' matches landed good an' hard, I can tell ye."
"And exploded?" put in Joe eagerly.
"Yes, exploded with a noise ye could hear 'most a mile, I calkerlate. The powder flashed straight up into thet ba'r's face, blindin' him and tearing his jaw half off, and the way he ran to save himself was a caution. As soon as he was gone I dropped down and ran for my gun. Then I made after the b'ar and caught him between the rocks and finished him."
This was the last story told that night, and soon after the tale was concluded Leeson showed the boys into the inner room of the cabin, where there was something of a rough bed with a straw mattress.
"Make yerselves ter hum," he said. "It aint no hotel, but it's the best I've got to offer ye."
"But we don't want to turn you out," said Darry.
"I'll make myself comfortable near the door," answered Leeson. "I want to sleep with one eye open—in case those rascals should take a notion to come this way."
The boys were glad enough to rest indoors again and take off the clothing they had worn during the storm.
"Camping out is well enough," declared Joe; "but I don't want too much of it."
"Oh, we've seen the worst side of it," returned Darry. "I expect lots of good times when we get to the fort."
"Oh, so do I, for the matter of that."
After turning in it did not take long for the cousins to get to sleep, and a little while later Hank Leeson also threw himself down to rest. But the old trapper remained close to the doorstep, and slept with his rifle near at hand.
An hour went by, and the darkness and silence continued. There was no moon, and only a few stars were visible. At a distance a few night birds were calling, and occasionally the howl of some lonely wolf could be heard, but that was all.
At last from out of the darkness of the trail came three men on foot. They were Matt Gilroy and his companions. They had tethered their horses in the bushes some distance away. They stole toward the cabin like so many grim and silent shadows.
"Go slow, men," came softly from Gilroy. "You know what kind of a man Leeson is."
"Reckon I do know," came in a growl from Fetter. "And I've got an account to settle with him, too."
"I'm pretty certain the boy is here," went on the leader. "But we must make sure if the others are here too, or if they have ridden off to the fort. If they have gone to the fort——"
"Hist!" came in warning from Potts. "You're talking too much. I've heard that this Leeson sleeps with his ears wide open."
"He does," grumbled Fetter; and then the three desperadoes relapsed into silence.
They were advancing upon the cabin from the rear, and each held a ready pistol in his hand, while his rifle was slung over his back. They had seen the boys and Benson head for the trapper's home while it was still light and they were on a high cliff; but darkness had closed in on the scene, and they had come up to the spot in ignorance of what had followed.
Tiptoeing their way they reached the lean-to where the horses had been stabled, and with caution Gilroy went inside. By feeling the animals he soon learned that three had been in use but a few hours before, while the fourth was cool and comfortable.
"Their horses are here," he announced. "And a fourth is here, too."
"That's Leeson's," answered Fetter. "But I thought he had two or three."
"Might as well take them while we have the chance," murmured Potts. "Four nags will bring some money over at Highwater. We can get Gingo to sell 'em."
"Let them out," answered Gilroy. "Without horses they'll have their hands full trying to follow us."
It was no easy task to untie the horses in a place that was pitch-dark, and it took some time to get even the horses belonging to our friends released.
As Fetter and Potts took the animals out, Gilroy worked to untie the sturdy mare belonging to Hank Leeson. This was a pet animal, and not used to strangers. As Gilroy caught hold of the halter she gave a neigh of suspicion.
"Hush!" murmured the desperado, and ran his hand down the mare's nose. But this made her skittish, and she stamped sharply half a dozen times.
"What's up thar?" came in Hank Leeson's voice, and the trapper was wide awake on the instant. "Whoa, Nancy, whoa!"
"Hang the luck!" muttered Gilroy, and ran outside after Fetter and Potts. "He must have been on the watch."
"We must get out!" responded Fetter. "He's a sure-shot, remember. Nothing but the darkness can save us."
"I'm going!" came from Potts, and he leaped on the back of one of the horses—that which Joe had been riding.
"I'm with you," said Fetter, and mounted old Benson's steed. "Come, Matt, and be quick about it."
By this time Hank Leeson was running around the corner of the cabin, gun in hand. His call had aroused Joe and Darry, and they were pulling on their clothing with all speed.
"Something is wrong!" exclaimed Joe.
"It must be those desperadoes," responded his cousin.
The boys were not yet dressed, when they heard a clatter of hoofs and a shot, followed by another.
Then they came out, rifles in hand, to find Leeson reloading near the stable.
"Those desperadoes have been here!" exclaimed the old trapper. "They ran off with your hosses, consarn 'em!"
"Went off with the horses?" repeated Darry. "Did you shoot at them?"
"I did, but the light's against me, and I don't reckon as how I hit anything." Hank Leeson meditated for a moment. "I've half a mind ter do it—yes, I have!" he muttered.
"Do what?" asked Joe.
"Go after 'em on my mare. Would you be afraid to stay here alone if I went?"
"No; go ahead!" cried both boys.
"We'll keep watch while you are away," continued Joe.
"If you can get the horses back it will be a great favor," said Darry. "The three are worth over five hundred dollars."
Without further words, Hank Leeson dashed into the stable, untied his mare and mounted her. Rifle over shoulder and pistol in hand, he dashed away on the back trail, whence the desperadoes had disappeared. Soon he was swallowed up in the darkness, although they heard the hoofbeats of Nancy for several minutes after.
"This is the worst yet," was Joe's comment, when they were alone. "Those fellows are as daring as they are rascally. I never dreamed they would come up in that fashion. I wonder what they would have done if Leeson hadn't woke up?"
"Perhaps we would all have been murdered," answered his cousin with a shudder. "What shall we do, now we are dressed?"
"That depends upon how long Leeson remains away. I move we remain on guard—one at the front of the cabin and the other at the rear. If we keep our eyes peeled they can't come very close, even though it is dark."
"All right, Joe. Keep your rifle handy."
"Don't fear about that, Darry."
They were soon on guard, the one on the doorstep and the other near the lean-to, on a stump. Thus an hour dragged by. To both it was an unusually long while.
"I don't see a thing," said Darry, coming to where his cousin rested.
"Nor I, and I'm getting sleepy. I hardly think Leeson will be back until morning."
"Just what I was thinking. Let us take turns at watching. The one on duty can walk around the cabin now and then, and that will give each of us some sleep."
This was agreed upon, and they tossed up to see who should go on guard first. It fell to Darry's lot, and Joe, hardly able to keep his eyes open, quickly retired, without undressing.
Darry's vigil was certainly a lonely one, doubly so because it was new to him. As he tramped slowly around the cabin, he could not help but contrast this situation with the one he was used to at home.
"I don't know as I'd like to be a night policeman or a night-watchman," he reasoned. "They must be awfully tiresome jobs. And the city isn't near as lonely as this, either, even in the middle of the night." He drew a long breath and looked at his watch. "Gracious, only three-quarters of an hour gone, and I've got an hour and a quarter still to serve! How awfully slow it is! If Leeson——What's that?"
He broke off short and came to a halt, with his rifle in his hands and his gaze fixed on some brushwood a hundred feet to the rear of the stable. He had seen some dark object moving, but whether it was man or beast he could not tell.
"It was something, I'm sure of that," he told himself, after the object had disappeared from view. "If it was a man he must have been crawling on hands and knees."
He wondered if he had better awaken Joe, but hesitated, knowing how sleepy his cousin was. Perhaps the object would go away—if it was a wild beast.
Keeping his eyes on the spot, Darry waited what seemed to him a long time, but which was really but a few minutes. Then slowly the bushes parted and the object came forth, with eyes that gleamed fitfully even in that darkness.
"A mountain wolf!" muttered the boy. "Well, I'm glad it isn't one of those desperadoes."
Taking up a stone he hurled it at the wolf, at the same time shouting to the beast to go away. At once the wolf turned tail and disappeared whence it had come.
"Did you call?" came sleepily from Joe.
"There's a wolf in the bushes back of the cabin," returned Darry.
"Does he want to attack you?"
"I don't know. I just threw a stone at him, and he's slunk out of sight."
By this time Joe was also outside, and the two cousins waited for the reappearance of the wolf.
But the animal was cowardly, and did not show himself again, and presently Joe returned to bed. The remainder of the night passed without anything unusual happening.
The morning found the two boys still alone. The sun was well up over the eastern prairie before both were dressed, for they had taken turns at guarding, as agreed, and each had consequently lost half his regular sleeping time.
"Well, what's to do now?" questioned Darry, while they were stirring around getting breakfast.
"I don't know of anything to do but to wait here until we hear from Benson and Hank Leeson," answered his cousin.
Breakfast was soon disposed of, and then they sat down to wait, still keeping their firearms close to hand, in case of unexpected attack. The meeting with the desperadoes had opened the boys' eyes, and they did not intend to be caught "napping" no matter what else happened.
Shortly before ten o'clock Joe espied three horsemen coming down the trail which led to the fort. Both watched the approaching riders with interest, and presently saw that they were soldiers. One wore the uniform of a lieutenant, and the others were privates.
"You are from the fort?" cried Joe, running forward to meet them.
"Yes," was the answer from the lieutenant. "Which of you is Joseph Moore?"
"I am."
"I am glad to know you, Moore. Your brother, the captain, and I are great friends. I am Lieutenant Richard Carrol."
"Oh, I've heard of you," answered Joe, smiling. "Will has often mentioned his chum, Dick Carrol, in his letters. This is my cousin, Darry Germain. Did old Benson reach the fort last night?"
"He did," answered Lieutenant Carrol, as he shook hands with both boys. "And your brother and a detachment of Company A have gone out to look for Matt Gilroy and his gang. Benson went with them, and I was asked to come down here and escort you to the fort."
"If my brother wants to round up Gilroy's gang he should have come here," said Joe. "The rascals were here last night and stole our three horses."
"Is it possible! And where is Hank Leeson?"
"He went after them on his horse, the only one they didn't get. We are looking for his return at any moment. We promised to watch the cabin until he got back."
"I see." The lieutenant turned to the privates. "Men, you may dismount and tie up the horses for the present. We won't be going back just yet."
Lieutenant Carrol leaped to the ground, and one of the privates took charge of his steed. The young officer was a handsome fellow, with a smiling face, and both Joe and Darry took to him at once.
"Yes, Captain Moore and I are great friends," he said. "You see, we went through West Point together, and we have been more or less together ever since. He has often told me about you two fellows, so I feel as if I've known you for a long while." He looked at Joe. "You must have had quite an adventure with those desperadoes at the cave."
"I did have," answered Joe. "I hope my brother and the others round them up. Do you know if they came anywhere near here?"
"No, they struck off on another trail—the one the quartermaster is expected to use. You see, he is to come in to-morrow with that money."
"To-morrow! Then they'll have time to warn him."
"That depends upon circumstances. The quartermaster is an odd sort of a fellow, and sometimes changes his mind about routes. He may come in the way we expect, and he may take some entirely different trail."
"We can't say when Leeson will be back," put in Darry. "But it seems to me it is our duty to stay here until he returns; don't you think so, Joe?"
"I do, Darry. But he will probably be back before long."
It was only a few minutes later when one of the privates came forward with the information that a man was coming through the underbrush skirting the timber. It was Hank Leeson, and he held his mare to a walk, for Nancy was all but exhausted.
"Mornin', lieutenant!" he called out, as he drew closer and saluted. "Come for them boys, I reckon."
"I did, Leeson. They tell me you've been after the gang. What luck?"
Hank Leeson shook his head dubiously. "Reckon I didn't have any luck, lieutenant. Got one shot, but if I hit it didn't count much. They had the best o' me in the timber, and they got away, not only with the hosses belonging to the boys an' Benson, but likewise with their own, which they had tethered in a hollow not far away."
"Then our horses are gone!" cried Darry, his face falling.
"Thet's it, lad. I'm sorry, but I did my best."
"Oh, I don't blame you, Leeson. But—but if we haven't any horses, how are we to get to the fort?"
"We'll take turns at carrying you," replied Lieutenant Carrol.
Hank Leeson was as worn out as his mare, and while one of the soldiers cared for Nancy the old trapper sank down on his doorstep and told his story. He had followed the desperadoes up hill and down for fifteen miles, and gotten one shot at Fetter, which, he believed, had struck the rascal in the arm. But the party had turned on the trail while passing through a wide patch of timberland, and on coming out at the other side he had been unable to locate them again. Then, as it was almost morning, he had thought best to return to his cabin, to ascertain how the boys were faring.
"Which road were they near when you saw them last?" asked Lieutenant Carrol.
"Over at Hunkwater's Rock," answered Leeson. "Moving toward the Knob."
"Humph! Then I am afraid Captain Moore won't round them up very quickly."
"My brother didn't go near that trail?" questioned Joe.
"No, he's on a trail three miles further north. Still, the desperadoes may turn north."
"That's so," said Leeson.
As there was nothing to keep them at the cabin, the boys were now anxious to move on to the fort, and a short while later Lieutenant Carrol set off. One private carried Joe and the other Darry; and, as the horses were powerful beasts, good progress was made.
"Hurrah! The fort!" cried Joe, as he caught sight of a large flag waving in the distance. He was right; and soon they could see the tall stockade quite plainly. It was three hundred feet long by two hundred feet wide, and surrounded by a ditch twelve feet deep. Inside of the stockade were the fort proper and a dozen other buildings, including the officers' quarters, the men's quarters, the messroom, hospital, and the gymnasium, and also a good-sized stable.
"Why, it's a regular town in itself!" murmured Darry, when they got inside.
"That's right, a town of exactly two hundred and seventy-five people," answered the lieutenant. "And of that number two hundred and sixty are soldiers belonging to three companies, three are officers' wives, two are Indian scouts, and the rest are cooks and other helpers."
Colonel Fairfield, a tall, dignified old officer, had been told of their approach, and now came from the officers' quarters to meet them.
"I am glad to see you, boys," he said, as he shook hands warmly. "If the story Benson told is true you have had quite a few adventures in reaching here. I am sorry your brother is not here to meet you, Joseph; but he was anxious to go after the Gilroy gang, and I let him have his way."
"You haven't heard about all of our adventures, colonel," said Darry, and told of the stolen horses.
"Worse and worse!" returned the colonel, stroking his mustache thoughtfully. "That proves that the gang—or what is left of it—is as desperate as ever. Those fellows will never give up until they are either arrested or shot down."
"I hope my brother doesn't get into trouble with them," said Joe anxiously.
"Well, a soldier has to take some risks, my boy. But Captain Moore is as shrewd as he is brave, so you need not fear for his safety. Come right in; Mrs. Fairfield will be glad to see you. She wants to hear from all the folks at home."
The boys followed the old officer into the quarters, and here received an equally warm greeting from Mrs. Fairfield, whom they had met in Chicago. Dinner was soon served, and while the lads were satisfying the inner man they had to tell their whole story over again, and also tell all the news from home.
"While you are here, boys, you must make yourselves perfectly at ease," said the colonel. "I know your fathers will expect me to be a father to you. As for Captain Moore, I will allow him to be with you as much as military discipline permits."
To the boys, who had never visited a military quarters before, the fort proved of great interest, and they were glad, after the meal was over, to have Lieutenant Carrol take them around. This occupied some time, and when they had finished it was time for the evening parade.
This was quite an affair, and the two lads joined the ladies of the place to witness it. Everybody turned out, in uniform as clean as possible, on inspection. The drums rolled, the fifers struck up a lively air, and the three companies, headed by a major, marched around the stockade several times and then to the parade-ground in front of the gates. Here the command went through the manual of arms and through a number of fancy evolutions.
"It's splendid!" murmured Joe. "Everything moves like clockwork."
"It makes me almost wish to be a soldier," answered Darry. "But if a fellow had this day in and day out I am afraid he would grow tired of it."
"You are right, Darry," said Mrs. Fairfield. "The colonel has to think up a great number of things whereby to interest his men. They get up all sorts of contests, and concerts and theatricals, and go hunting when they can get the chance—anything to keep them from growing too dull."
"Have they had any real military duty to do lately?" asked Joe.
"Not for over a year. Then the Modoc Indians got up a sun-dance, and they had to march over to Kedahmina and stop it. Two Indians were killed and one soldier was badly wounded. Since that time the Indians have been quiet."
"But the Indians may rise again."
"Probably they will—one is never sure of them. As one old general has said, 'The only safe Indian is the dead Indian.'"
The boys were assigned to a small room next to that occupied by Captain Moore and Lieutenant Carrol. The apartment was neatly furnished with iron cots, an iron washstand, and a small wardrobe for extra clothing. Fortunately the extra clothing they had carried had not been stolen, so they were not as bad off as they would otherwise have been.
Joe was anxious to hear from his brother Will, but had to be patient. Yet he was not greatly worried, for he was almost certain that the soldiers would fail to fall in with the desperadoes, each having taken a different trail.
The day following their arrival the boys fell in with several soldiers who were going fishing up a mountain stream not far away, having obtained special leave of absence for that purpose. The soldiers, who were named Biggs, Ferry, and Lambert, were glad enough to have the boys for company.
"We'll show you some good sport," said Lambert, who proved to be something of a leader. "No better fish in these parts than those you can catch in Rocky Pass River."
The boys had no fishing-tackle, but Lieutenant Carrol fitted them out, and soon the party was on the way. The soldiers were to be gone but four hours, and so struck out at a gait that taxed Joe and Darry to the utmost to keep up with them.
"It's the air does it," explained Biggs, when Darry spoke about the speed. "After you've been out here a while you'll eat like a horse and feel like walking ten miles every morning before breakfast. I tell you, the air is wonderful."
"It certainly is bracing," answered Darry. "I noticed that as soon as we began to climb the foothills."
A walk of half an hour brought them to Rocky Pass River, and they journeyed along the bank until they came to a favorite fishing-hole.
"Here we are," said Lambert. "Now for the first fish!"
"Ten cents to whoever catches it!" cried Joe, and placed a shining dime on a nearby tree stump. At this the three soldiers laughed.
"That dime is mine," declared Ferry, who was the first to throw in.
"Perhaps," answered Biggs. "But I reckon I've got just as good a chance now."
"Here I come," put in Lambert, and threw over his friends' heads. Hardly had his bait gone down than he felt a tug and whipped in a little fish not over six inches long.
"Mine!" he cried.
"It isn't worth ten cents!" cried Biggs and Ferry; nevertheless Lambert pocketed the coin, amid a general laughing.
The boys now went to a spot a little above where the soldiers were fishing, and set to work on their own lines. Just as Ferry announced a fine haul, they threw in, and soon everybody in the party was busy, bringing in several kinds of fish, big and little, including some fine trout of a variety the boys had not before seen.
Inside of an hour everybody had all the fish he wanted, and then the soldiers said they were going to take a swim. The boys were willing, and soon the whole crowd were in the water, calling out and laughing and having a good time generally.
"Don't go too far down the stream," cautioned Lambert. "The falls are below, and you might get caught in the rapids."
"All right, we'll surely remember," answered Joe.
"I'll race you across the river and back," said Darry, a little later.
"Done!" cried Joe. "To what point?"
"To that willow hanging down near the big rock."
So it was agreed, and in a minute both boys were off. They were good swimmers, and the race interested the soldiers, so that they gave up sporting around to watch the result.
At this point the stream widened out to nearly two hundred feet, so the race was not a particularly short one. The water ran quite swiftly, and they soon found they had to swim partly up stream to prevent being carried below the willow.
Darry made the mark first, and, touching the willow, started on the return. Joe was close behind, and now it became a neck-and-neck race between them.
"Go it, boys!" shouted Lambert. "Do your best!"
"I bet on Joe," said Ferry.
"I bet on Darry," added Biggs.
Hardly had the wager been made when Joe shot ahead. Slowly but surely he drew away from his cousin.
While the sport was going on nobody had noticed a large tree that was drifting rapidly down the middle of the river. Now, however, Lambert saw the danger.
"Look out!" he cried wildly. "Look out! A tree is coming down upon you!"
Joe heard the cry, and looking up the stream managed to get out of the way of the big piece of driftwood. But Darry was not so fortunate, and in a twinkling the youth was struck and carried out of sight.
This accident came so quickly that for the moment nobody knew what to do.
"Darry! Darry!" cried Joe. "Where are you?"
"He went under!" shouted Lambert. "The tree branches struck him on the head."
"He'll be drowned!" gasped Biggs. "What shall we do?"
By this time the tree had drifted past the point where the soldiers were stationed. Joe had now struck bottom with his feet, and at once went ashore.
"We must do something!" he panted. "We can't let Darry be drowned!"
"He must be caught under the branches," said Lambert. "As the tree hit him it turned partly over. Perhaps——There is his foot!"
He pointed to the tree—and there, sure enough, was Darry's left foot, kicking wildly above the surface of the river. Then the boy's head came up, but only for a moment.
"Save me!" he spluttered, and immediately disappeared.
"This is awful!" groaned Joe. "Can't we throw a fishing-line over the tree and haul it ashore?"
"A good idea!" answered Lambert. "We'll take two lines."
He caught up the fishing-tackle, and lines in hand ran along the river bank until he was below the tree. The others followed, and helped him to get the lines into shape. Then a quick cast was made, but the lines fell short.
"Too bad!" came from Joe. "Quick, try once more!"
"The tree is turning over again!" shouted Biggs, and he was right. As some other branches came into view, they beheld Darry, caught in a crotch and held there as if in a vise.
Another cast was made, and then a third, but all in vain. Then the tree, with its helpless victim, moved forward more rapidly than ever, in the direction of the roaring falls, which were but a short distance off.
"Darry is lost! Nothing can save him now!"
Such was the agonizing thought which rushed through Joe's brain as he watched the progress of the drifting tree as it moved swiftly toward the falls of Rocky Pass River.
He knew the falls to be over thirty feet high. At the bottom was a boiling pool which sent up a continual shower of spray. Nobody entering that pool could survive.
Darry, too, realized his peril, and continued to call for help. Had he been able to loosen himself he would have leaped into the water, but he was weak and helpless, and his voice could scarcely be heard above the rushing of the rapids.
Joe and the three soldiers continued to run along the river bank, over rough rocks that cut their feet and through bushes which scratched them in scores of places. At last they came out on a point directly above the falls.
The tree still spun on, and Joe closed his eyes to shut out the sight of what was to follow.
Suddenly Lambert let out a shout:
"The tree is caught! It has stopped moving!"
Again Joe looked, and he saw that what the soldier said was true. The under branches of the drifting tree had hit some sharp rocks below the river's surface, and one branch had wedged itself fast.
This catching of the driftwood bent down the limb that held Darry, and soon they saw that the imperiled boy was free from the grip which had held him. But what to do next the lad did not know. To swim to the shore was out of the question.
"I—I can't make it," he told himself, as he panted for breath. He was so exhausted that he felt very much like fainting away. But he knew he must keep his senses, or all would be over with him.
"Darry! Darry! Are you much hurt?" called out Joe.
"Not much, but I—I can't—swim—ashore!" was the gasped out answer.
"I'll try the fishing lines again," said Lambert, and prepared them once more. A first cast did not reach Darry, but a second did, and he caught the sinkers to the lines with a good deal of satisfaction.
"Will they hold?" questioned Joe.
"I hope so," answered Lambert. "Anyway, it's the best we can do."
Letting the lines run out as far as possible, the soldiers and Joe moved up the bank of the stream to where there was a series of rocks projecting into the water a distance of several yards.
"Now brace me, and I will haul in," said Lambert. Then he called to Darry to help them by swimming as well as he was able, with the lines caught around him, under the arms.
"All right, I'm ready!" cried the boy, and dropped into the stream, taking care to steer clear of the tree.
Lambert hauled in slowly but steadily. The line straightened out and became taut, and looked as if it might snap at any instant. Joe's heart came up into his throat, and he breathed a silent prayer that his cousin might be saved.
"Here he comes!" muttered Lambert at length, and they could see that Darry's feet at last rested on the sandy bottom of the river. They continued to haul in, and soon he was safe. When on shore he pitched himself on the grass, completely exhausted.
"Oh, how glad I am!" cried Joe, as he knelt beside his cousin. "I was almost certain you'd be drowned!"
"It was a narrow escape!" answered Dairy, when he could speak. "When the tree first struck me I was almost stunned, and when I realized what had happened I found myself fast and hardly able to budge. Just look there!" And he showed a deep scratch on one side of his body and a heavy red mark on the other. "But never mind," he went on. "I am thankful my life was spared!"
It was a sober-minded party that dressed and journeyed back to the fort, Joe carrying both his own fish and those his cousin had caught.
"I am afraid that will end fishing and swimming for a while," said Biggs. "The soldiers never go near the falls, for they all know the danger, but Colonel Fairfield is too strict to run any chances."
"Don't say anything about the adventure on the tree," said Darry.
"Will you keep mum?"
"I will, and so will you, won't you, Joe?"
"Yes."
So it was arranged that nothing should be said, that the soldiers' little recreation might not be interfered with, for both boys saw that they had little pleasure at the best.
"A fine haul for you boys!" said Lieutenant Carrol, as he surveyed the catch. "I must go myself and try my luck. I haven't been fishing this summer."
"It's a splendid place for bites," said Joe.
"I know it. But you have to be careful up there. There's a nasty fall in the river. If you went over that you'd never come out alive."
"Yes, we saw the fall," answered Darry, and gave a shudder in spite of himself.
Again at sunset there was a parade, similar to that of the day before. After it was over the boys procured guns and had Lambert put them through their "paces," as he called it.
"First we'll drill a bit without guns," said the old soldier, for Lambert had seen sixteen years of service. "Toe this line, heads up, chest out, and little fingers on the seams of your trousers. That's all right. Now then, Eyes Right! When I say that turn your eyes to the right, but don't move your faces. Now, Eyes Front! That's good. Eyes Left! Eyes Front! That's first-rate."
"But we're not moving," said Darry.
"Now we'll move. Watch me. Right Face! Do you see how it's done? Balance on the heel, this way, and swing around. Now then, Right Face!"
The two boys came around like well-trained old soldiers.
"Good, boys, good. Now then, Front Face! Good. Left Face! That's not so well. Front Face! Now here's another, About Face!"
So the drilling went on, until the boys could move as Lambert wished them to. Then they began to march and to wheel right and left. At last he put the guns in their hands and let them march with the pieces, and then showed them the manual of arms.