by Kirk Munroe
CHAPTER XII.
THE TRAPPERS TRAPPED.
When the leader of the party by whom Winn had been made prisoner (asrelated in the last chapter but one) peered cautiously in at the openwindow of the log-hut to make certain that it was occupied, he wasdisappointed to discover but one man, where he had confidently expectedto find several.
This leader, who had told Winn that his name was Riley, was a Sheriff,though such a new one that this was his first important undertakingsince assuming office. Consequently he was most anxious for itssuccess, and also somewhat nervous from anxiety. He had laid his planswell, the hut was completely surrounded, and he was elated at thethought of the prize so surely within his grasp, as well as of theglory that would be his for effecting this important capture. Heexpected to find several men in the hut, and counted upon their beingdesperate characters who would make a stout resistance before yieldingthemselves prisoners. The Sheriff had therefore prepared his followersfor a fight, and made all his arrangements with this in prospect. Now,to discover but one man, and he peacefully sleeping, caused thesewarlike preparations to appear ridiculous, and called for a decidedmodification of Mr. Riley's plans.
Having satisfied himself by a careful survey that the man had nocompanions, and that the hut contained no rifles nor other fire-arms,the Sheriff retired noiselessly from the window and rejoined hisfollowers. He explained the situation in a whisper, and then proposedthat as they could not fight a single unarmed man, they should paralyzehim with terror. As the Sheriff expressed it, they would "scare himstiff" by a general discharge of guns, a yell, and a rush for the door.These were to follow a signal that he would give from his post at theopen window, through which he would cover the sleeping man with hisrevolver.
The new programme being understood, the Sheriff returned to hisstation, pointed his pistol at Billy Brackett's head, and was about toorder him to throw up his hands and surrender, when he made a slightmovement that aroused Bim. This faithful sentinel sprang up with aloud bark. In the dim light Sheriff Riley had not noticed the dog, andhe was so much upset by this unexpected challenge that his fingerclosed on the hair-trigger of his revolver. Fortunately his aim was sowild that no harm was done by the shot that followed. It was all thesignal that the Sheriff's followers needed, and they immediatelycarried out their part of the programme to the letter.
When the tumult subsided, the situation was as already described.Billy Brackett sat on the floor, grasping Bim's collar, and awaitingfurther developments as calmly as though he were merely a disinterestedspectator of this unique performance. The dog, with teeth displayed toan alarming extent, stood ready to fly at the invaders whenever heshould be released. In front of this group, and a few paces from it,stood half a dozen men, all of whom held guns that were pointed at theyoung engineer. The form of the Sheriff, with pistol still levelled athis prisoner, appeared at the open window.
"Do you surrender?" he demanded.
"Certainly," replied Billy Brackett, cheerfully; "if you desire it.I'm always ready to accommodate, especially when it's no trouble to doso."
"Throw up your hands, then," commanded the Sheriff.
"To do that," argued the prisoner, without moving, "I shall be obligedto let go my hold of this bull-dog. The moment I do so our friendswith the empty guns will be apt to fancy that about a yard ofparticularly hot and well-greased lightning has been forged for theirespecial benefit. Still, if you insist--"
"Oh, hang your dog!" exclaimed Mr. Riley. "You must hold on to him, ofcourse, until we can find a rope to tie him with. Where are your pals?"
"This is the only one I have at present," answered Billy Brackett,indicating him by a glance; "but I am in search of another, and havereason to believe that he is on this island at this very minute.Haven't seen anything of him, have you? He is a young fellow, aboutsixteen, named Caspar, son of Major Caspar, of Caspar's Mill, up theriver a bit. He left home yesterday on a raft, and I was to join himhereabouts."
"What sort of a raft?" asked the Sheriff.
"Big timber raft. Two sweeps at each end, and three shanties on it,two of them filled with wheat."
"No," replied Mr. Riley, in a relieved tone; for on hearing thewell-known name of Caspar his men had exchanged meaning looks andsmiles, which indicated their belief that the Sheriff might be gettinginto hot-water. "I did arrest a young rascal of about that age half anhour ago," he continued, "just as he was leaving this island on a raft;but it was only a small affair, built of two or three logs, and not atall such a raft as you describe. I've got the boy out here now, and Ibelieve him to be one of your pals, in spite of your cheeky talk. Yondon't want to give me any more of it, either," he concluded, in afierce tone, assumed to reassert the dignity of his office. "So justcork up, and come along quietly, or you may find yourself in trouble."
"All right," replied Billy Brackett, calmly; "but first, perhaps you'llbe kind enough to tell me who you are, why you are taking such aninterest in me, and where you want me to go."
"I am the Sheriff of Dubuque County, Iowa," was the answer. "I have awarrant for your arrest as a member of the most dangerous gang ofcounterfeiters that has ever operated in this section of country, and Iwant you to go with me to the county jail, which will be only astopping-place on your journey to State-prison."
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Sheriff, and obliged foryour courtesy," said Billy Brackett, politely. "Now if you will do methe favor to read the names mentioned in your warrant, I shall havenothing further to request."
"William Gresham, _alias_ Gilder, _et al._," replied Mr. Riley.
"Good. But suppose I can prove to you that I am not the person youtake me to be, and that my name is neither Gresham nor Gilder, _etal._, but that I am a civil engineer, William Brackett by name,brother-in-law of Major Caspar, whom I am certain you must know, andthat you are making a rather sizable mistake in connection with thisbusiness. Supposing, also, I state that I am just now engaged on animportant mission which will not admit of delay, and that in case youinsist on taking me to jail, I can and will make you suffer, even tothe extent of losing your office."
By this time Billy Brackett was standing up, while Bim, reluctantlyobeying his stern command, lay motionless at his feet. The men of theSheriff's posse had ceased to level their guns at the young engineer,and even Mr. Riley was so impressed with this bold attitude anddeclaration of innocence that he consented to come inside the hut andexamine the papers offered for his inspection. He was about to declarehis satisfaction with them, and admit that perhaps he had made amistake, when the man whom he had left to guard Winn rushed up with theannouncement that his prisoner had escaped.
At this the Sheriff's face clouded angrily. "We'll find him if he isstill on the island!" he exclaimed. "If he has left it we'll followhim; and, at any rate, Mr. Brackett, I must now insist upon your comingto Dubuque, where you will be granted every opportunity for provingwhat you please. In the mean time, you and I will await here theresult of the search for the escaped prisoner that my men will at onceproceed to make."
To this Billy Brackett returned no answer, but stood silentlyconsidering how he should avoid the vexatious delay that now appearedinevitable. While he was thus cudgelling his brains, one of thesearching party returned to report that the skiff in which they hadcome up the river was missing.
The Sheriff became furious. "I don't believe it!" he cried. "Here,you! Stop and guard this prisoner, while I go and take charge of thesearch myself."
As Mr. Riley departed, the new guard entered the hut, leaned his rifleagainst the wall, and took a seat near the door.
Then Billy Brackett stooped and whispered to his ever-faithful comrade,"Watch him, Bim!" and the dog answered with a low growl that spokevolumes. Turning to the guard the young engineer said, "My friend, ifyou make the slightest motion or shout for help, that bull-dog will flyat your throat. I am going to leave you alone with him for a minute,and as you value your life, I beg of you to keep perfectly quiet untilyo
u hear from me." With this the prisoner leaped lightly from thewindow and disappeared.
"'Watch him, Bim!'"]
For two minutes the guard sat as motionless as though carved fromstone, his fascinated gaze fixed on the gleaming teeth and bloodshoteyes of the bull-dog that stood rigidly before him. Then a shrillwhistle rang out on the still air, and at its sound the dog, dashingpast him, disappeared like a flash. In another minute Billy Brackett'slusty strokes were sending his own skiff dancing out towards the middleof the main channel, while Bim, thumping with his tail in appreciationof his master's praises, occupied the stern seat as calmly as thoughwith him such events as those just recorded were of every-dayoccurrence.
