CHAPTER V
THE SEARCH
When Dorothy told her folks of what had happened, the boys couldscarcely believe the strange story. That any one should actually makesuch a wild-west attempt at robbery, within reach of the Cedars,certainly did seem incredible. However, there was no disproving themarks on the girl's arms, where they had been rudely tied, nor couldany one deny that in the attempt to remove her bracelet her delicatewrist had been badly bruised. At first it was thought best to at oncenotify the police, but, upon further consideration, Major Dale advisedkeeping the matter quiet, hoping that some one in the neighborhoodwould fall upon a clue to the daring young highwayman.
"I do hope the mystery will be cleared up before I leave for camp,"remarked Dorothy, as the family sat in the beautiful library at theCedars, discussing the strange affair. "I should never be satisfiedwith a written account of what may happen, when you find the culprit."
"Oh, we can tell you that right now," declared Nat, warmly. "When wefind him we will lynch him, burn him at the stake, and have himimprisoned for life. When that sentence shall have been served we willmake a fresh charge against him, and perhaps----"
"Put him in a reformatory until he is twenty-one," finished Ned."Well, he deserves it! And to think that we should be almost withincall! Dorothy, I am inclined to question the wisdom of your silence.Why didn't you yell like thunder?"
"And have him put some terrible gag down my throat?"
"And get all sorts of germs therefrom," added Joe. "Doro, you did justright, and we are thankful that you got off as well as you did," andher brother shook his head proudly, as if to say that a mere cousincould hardly know how a closer relative would feel on such a matter.
"I wish I could have seen him," mused Roger, to whom the whole storyseemed like a wonderful tale of the West.
"Just for effect," put in Nat, with a laugh. "Roger is rather sorry hemissed the show--he always falls for the scary part."
But Dorothy did not mind the child's natural curiosity. In fact shetold him again just how the strange robber was dressed, and how fiercehe looked at her through the holes in the red handkerchief.
"Maybe he'll come around to the camp," said Roger hopefully. "I'mgoing to have my rifle all ready."
"And I haven't yet told you of the adventure we had at Glenwood, justbefore school closed," went on Dorothy, realizing fully how delightedRoger would be with the tale of the hay wagon accident, as well asthat of the scattered sheep. "We very nearly all lost a week'svacation through it, the principal was so indignant."
With splendid description, and with nothing startling left out,Dorothy went over the story. Even the larger boys became interested,and when she mentioned about the queer man, who sprang from nowhere,and who did things so unlike other people, Ned and Nat exchanged slyglances.
"You say he rode horseback like a real Indian?" queried Nat. "And thathe sort of made up to my old friend Tavia?"
"I knew you would be jealous, Nat," answered Dorothy. "But you reallymust put Tavia out of your heart."
"Never!" and Nat struck a most tragic attitude. "Tavia will ever bethe queen of my heart!" and he made a thump toward that organ, withseeming suicidal intent.
Dorothy laughed merrily. She knew very well how devoted Nat really wasto her own best girl friend, and she also knew that Tavia fullyappreciated the friendship of the handsome young cousin.
"When's Tavia coming?" asked Roger, another special friend of the girlwithout wisdom.
"I hope she will be here before I start for the Lake," repliedDorothy. "She always enjoys the Cedars more than she does any othersummer place."
"Hope she does, too," replied Nat, with unhidden warmth. "I want toput a flea in her ear before she runs any further risks with theknight of the horse."
"Really," said Dorothy, aside to Ned, when she had an opportunity ofspeaking privately, "there is something very mysterious about thatman. I have an uncanny feeling regarding him, and Cologne told me hehad written a letter to Tavia."
"Did, eh?" and Ned, the elder of the White boys, instantly put on adefensive air. "Well, whoever he may be, he had better be careful. Wehappen to have a----"
"Children," called Major Dale, "if you are going out to look for yourbandit, you had best be at it. He will have all his bestholding-up-ing done and be off to his cave with the spoils beforeyou--beard him outside of his lair."
Just what Ned was going to confide in Dorothy about the strange manwas left unfinished much to Dorothy's disappointment, for she feltthat the boys had some important clue as to the identity of the queercharacter. However, there was no time for further confidences, and shewas obliged to run off to her little personal duties, while the boysmade ready to explore the woods.
They proposed to lie in wait for the bandit for some time, and, if hedid not put in an appearance, they planned to explore the woodland forat least half a mile around. They felt sure that they would come uponhis tracks not far from the spot where Dorothy had been attacked, forit seemed reasonable to them, that any boy, or man, dressed as he wasdescribed to have been gotten up, would not attempt to go far from hishiding place.
With the White boys were two college friends, also home in NorthBirchland on their vacation, so that when the party actually startedout they made up quite a squad.
"All got your guns?" asked Ned, as they sketched out their separatelines of advance, and made secret marks to show the starting points.
"Yep," replied Ben Nichols, the biggest boy in all North Birchland,whose particular "gun" was a golf driver.
So they started off. Roger insisted upon going, so Ned took him underhis protection, while Joe kept within safe distance of Don Aikins, theyoung man from Bergen who claimed to be able to do anything, and anyone, in the athletic world. He swung his light stick expectantly atthe underbrush. Evidently he would be very pleased to have a swing atthe boy with the roped-on armor.
It was splendid to have something real to hunt for--what boy, or girleither, would not have enjoyed the prospect--when there was not aquestion of being held up, but of holding up?
Then they separated.
Meanwhile Dorothy was very anxious. What if the boys should reallycome upon this daring young villian? What if little Roger should runoff, and be overtaken? She almost wished she had never told the wholestory, for as she believed it all a wild whim of some foolish boy, shealso felt that he would quickly see the danger of his sport. It wasthe morning after her adventure, and she was able now to regard itwith less terror. Still her wrist did pain and she still trembled whenshe recalled how the knife had slipped, and how easily it could havesevered her own vein, instead of severing the skin of the maskedbandit.
She was thinking this all over, while shaking the creases from herlately-packed clothes, brushing the walking skirt, in which she hadtraveled to North Birchland, and generally putting her things inorder, when Mrs. White, gowned for the street, entered the room.
"My dear," she began, "I am afraid you will lose the out-door joy ofthis delightful morning. Why not slip into your riding habit, and takea run on Cricket? He would be so glad to do it himself, poor pony! Theboys are so busy with their camping that they forget a young horsewants some fun too."
"I should be glad to, Auntie, but I feel I must get my thingsstraightened out. The night I was packing up, the girls cut up so Ihad to hurry everything into my boxes in all shapes," replied Dorothy."But I will take a canter as soon as I have finished," and shegathered up the pieces of broken crockery that had remained in herbox after the "fall of China," as Tavia designated the accident toher tea set. "How lovely you do look, Aunt Winnie," exclaimed thegirl, gazing with sincere admiration at the superb figure in rosebroadcloth. "I do believe you have grown taller!"
"It's the style of this gown, my dear. These lines affect the Venuslength. Ned declared when he first saw me in this that I was puttogether in sections--couldn't possibly be all in one piece," and shelaughed in the deep, velvety tone that, perhaps, more than anythingelse about her interesting persona
lity, proclaimed her the woman ofunmistakable culture.
When she was gone, and Dorothy looked out into the inviting sunlight,she hurried with her unpacking, and was soon dressed in the simpletan-colored riding habit, that so well matched herself, as to make herlook like a shade of the morning, when she mounted the pretty littlebay pony, and set off at a canter along the North Birchland roads.
She soon forgot the fright of her boy-bandit, although she did wonderjust where the boys were, and if they had found any evidence of thatperson's depradations.
"Come Cricket," she spoke to her pony. "We must try a cross-cut. Iwant some mandrakes."
"I DON'T WANT TO STRIKE YOU," SHE SAID, "BUT YOU KNOWPRISONERS MUST OBEY." _Dorothy Dale's Camping Days Page 54_]
The horse pricked up his ears in response. Dorothy turned into a fieldwhere she thought the plum-shaped fruit would be found.
Dismounting, she threw the reins over Cricket's head and allowed himto nibble at the sweet grass. Yes, there were the mandrakes with theirfinger-shaped leaves. And they were turning yellow. Dorothy gathered afew, then stood up to look about her.
"The bandit!" she gasped in a whisper.
He had his hand on Cricket's rein!
"Drop that!" she shouted. "You need not think I am afraid of you now!"
"What?" asked the boy, dropping his disguise like a thing held by onesingle fastening and moving as if to spring up into the saddle.
Dorothy fairly jumped over the tall grasses, and was beside the horsebefore the boy could mount. She grasped the bridle, and, at the sametime, more firmly grasped her riding crop.
"Now I have you," she declared, gazing in wonderment at the verygood-looking boy who tried in vain to escape from the stirrup in whichhis boot had stuck. Seeing her opportunity, Dorothy dropped the bridleand crop, and, with both hands, grasped the boy very much in the samemanner as he had seized her the day before.
"Let me go!" he snarled, struggling to free himself.
"Not just now," replied Dorothy, coolly, for she saw that she wasquite able to hold him, and that he was really only a very slightyoung boy. "I am going to have a try at your game," she added, smilingat her versatility.
The boy almost fell under the horse, but Cricket was so well trainedthat he did not attempt to go beyond Dorothy's orders.
"Steady, Cricket!" she said softly. "Now young man," to her prisoner,"I am going to do something very original. I am going to tie you tothat pretty tree."
"You are not!" he yelled, but she had her whip in her hand and sheraised it threateningly.
"I don't want to strike you," she said, "but you know prisoners mustobey. Just step over there a foot or two!"
There was such authority in her voice that the boy looked upfrightened.
"Don't hit me," he pleaded, "and I'll go!"
This was more than Dorothy expected, and as the lad moved to obey, sheraised, with her foot, the rope he had dropped with his disguise, andgrasped it in her hand with the riding crop.
"You see school girls learn a lot about 'team work,'" she said. "Wehave to do it in all sorts of games."
"What are you going to do with me?" asked the boy, who actually seemedmore interested than frightened.
"Well, first I am going to make you secure. See, I just slip this ropearound you--you had it all ready with that slip knot," and she put itover his head before he had a chance to protest. It fell over hishands, and she pulled the cord tight. Then, as he was standing nearthe tree, she dropped the rope to his feet, gave it a jerk, andspringing around the tree she had him secure with two turns of thehemp, and a knot made after the style of one Nat had showed her how tofashion.
The boy burst out laughing.
"You're all right!" he declared. "You beat me! Where did you learn?"
"Oh, I often played bandit with my brothers, but never with a strangerbefore. Aren't you afraid? Don't you want to say your prayers?"
"I've forgotten them," he said with a smile. "Guess I forgot them whenI started in at this--the two don't hitch."
"Not exactly," and Dorothy was fixing the rope more tightly. "But youdid know some once. I can tell."
"How?" he asked.
"Because you don't swear. Didn't even when you cut your hand. How isit?"
"Sore," he replied. "Please don't pass the rope over the bandage."
"I won't," answered Dorothy with some tenderness.
The humor of the situation was apparent to both of them.
Dorothy, however, was determined not to relent, she would hold him aprisoner, she decided, until she found the boys. They would know bestwhat to do. Certainly such a desperado was unsafe to be at large.
"Are you going to make the fire now?" he asked, in a mocking tone.
"No, I am just going to jump on my horse and leave you here to thinkof your sins. I am sure you will be here when I come back."
"Oh please, miss, don't go for the police," he begged, tears wellinginto his deep blue eyes. "I have never done anything wrong before--andI can see, now, how silly I was."
"I am not going after the officers," said Dorothy, "but you must knowthat you have done very wrong--you might have hurt me seriously."
"Oh, please let me go!" he pleaded. "I will promise you anything, andI never want to play Wild West again!"
"It was too real for play," retorted Dorothy. "But you need not be tooalarmed. My cousins are good boys."
"Your cousins?"
"Yes, the White boys. Do you know them?"
"Ned and Nat? Of course I do! Oh, don't tell on me! Really I shall bedisgraced forever."
He was crying. Dorothy felt herself weakening.
"I'll tell you where everything is, and I'll promise you anything inthe world if you will only not--give me up. I can't bear to thinkof--poor mother. I could stand it--but she----"
"Is she ill?" and Dorothy quickly counted what a disgrace it would beto a good mother to find her son in such a plight.
"Yes, she is away from me all the time--with the nurses, and I haven'tseen her in a week. It would kill her to know what I've been doing."
"Who takes care of you?" asked Dorothy. "Whom do you play with?"
"Oh, father is away, and I have plenty of money to buy guns andthings. Then I go to plays a lot."
This was the sequel to the story, Dorothy thought. Would it possiblybe safe for her to take the boy's word, and let him go? As he said hewould be disgraced, and perhaps her kindness to him might be hisclearest lesson.
How good-looking he really was! Even standing there, tied, his clearface, and light hair, could not be undervalued, from the point of finelooks.
Somehow he was just a bit like Roger--that same round baby face, andthat one unmanageable curl that would hang down on his forehead inspite of years, and in spite of barbers.
"I'll tell you where I put all the things," he fairly sobbed, "andI'll give them all back, if you will only give me one more chance. Iremember the Bible always gave folks a second chance."
Dorothy could not repress a smile. Yes, that was true--the Bibletaught forgiveness.
"Quick! They're coming!" he pleaded. "Untie me, and I--I'll run."
Dorothy heard the voices. Quickly she untied the slip knot and almostas speedily as he had been tied, the lad was made free.
"No, don't run," ordered Dorothy. "You can just stay with me--get somegrass for Cricket and----"
"The togs! Where can I hide them?"
"Give them here! Hello, there boys! Did you find him?" calledDorothy, as that very moment she raised a clump of brush to hide the"togs" under, and at the same time she hailed the boys who just turnedinto the open field from the search through the woods.
"Nary a find!" called back Nat. "Guess you were 'seeing things,' Doro.We have come to the conclusion that the bandit lit on your brain."
"Maybe," replied Dorothy. "But see, my Sir Galahad," indicating thecaptive, who stood beside her. "He saved Cricket from a ditch, and Ihaven't had a chance to get his other name."
"Hello, Roy!" greeted Ned. "
Glad to see you. Where have you beenkeeping yourself? We wanted you the other day for the town games, butcouldn't find you."
"Hello, Roy!" shouted the approaching Joe.
"'Low there, Royal!" came from Roger, who just then threw away hisbandit stick.
"I'm glad you are all acquainted," added Dorothy. "I must ask Roy tocome up to the house this afternoon."
"I'll be there!" declared the boy, but only Dorothy knew why he spokeso earnestly.
Dorothy Dale's Camping Days Page 6
