CHAPTER VIII.
THE LYNCHERS.
When Barney returned to the hotel he found Professor Scotch in a veryagitated and anxious mood.
"This is terrible--terrible!" fluttered the little man, wringing hishands. "How can we save him?"
"Phwat has happened now, profissor?" asked Barney, anxiously.
"I have received no reply to my telegrams."
"Kape aisy; the reploies may come lather on."
"And they may not till it is too late. I leaned out of the window ashort time ago, and I heard a crowd talking in the street below. Thathorrible ruffian, Bill Buckhorn, was with them, and he was telling themhow to make an attack on the jail. Some of the crowd laughed, and saidHank Kildare had been very slick about getting his prisoner under cover,but he would not be able to keep him long after night came."
"Av they make an attack on th' jail, it's oursilves as should be theerto foight fer Frankie," said the Irish lad, seriously.
"Fight!" roared Scotch, in his big, hoarse voice. "Why, I can't fight,and you know it! I can't fight so much as an old woman! I am toonervous--too excitable."
"Arrah! Oi think we have fergot how ye cowed Colonel La Salle Vallier,th' champion foire-ater av New Orleans."
"No, I have not forgotten that; but I was mad, aroused, excited at thetime--I had completely forgotten myself."
"Forget yersilf now, profissor."
"I can't! I can't! It's no use! I would be in the way if I went to thejail. I shall stay away."
The professor was an exceedingly timid man, as Barney very well knew, sohe did not add to his agitation by telling him that, while returningfrom the jail, he had heard it hinted that the boy prisoner had twofriends in the hotel who might be treated to a "dose of hemp necktie."
The professor, however, suspected the truth, and he kept in his room.Danger could not keep Barney there, and, having reported the result ofhis conversation with Frank, he went out to learn what was going on.
Two persons very much in evidence since the arrival of the train werethe Jew and the dude. The Jew had a way of insinuating himself into themidst of any little knot that was gathered aside from the generalthrong, and, if they were speaking guardedly, he seemed sure to hearwhat they were saying and enter into the conversation. As a rule, thiswas not what would be called a "healthy" thing to do in such a place andon such an occasion; but the report of Solomon's encounter with BillBuckhorn, the Man from 'Rapahoe, had been circulated freely, and the Jewwas tolerated for what he had done.
While he appeared very curious to hear anything that seemed like privateconversation, the Jew did not neglect any opportunity to transactbusiness, and he made so many trades during the day that the size of hispack materially decreased.
The dude seemed scarcely less curious than the Jew. He had a way oflistening with his eyes and mouth wide open, but he lost no time ingetting out of the way if ordered to do so. For all of his curiosity, heseemed very timid.
The day passed, and night came. Still Professor Scotch had received noanswers to his telegrams.
Shortly after nine o'clock that evening, the report spread rapidly thatRobert Dawson, the Eastern banker, was dead.
Immediately there was a swift and silent stirring of men--a significantmovement.
"Thot manes throuble!" was Barney Mulloy's mental exclamation. "Th'sheriff should know av it."
The Irish lad believed that he was watched, but he hurried to theprofessor's room, telling him to lock the door and keep within till thestorm was over, and then he slipped out of the hotel.
Barney did not hurry toward the jail at once, but he took a roundaboutcourse, dodging and doubling, to bother any one who might attempt tofollow him.
Finally, having doubled on his own course, he struck out for the jail.
There was a moon, but it was obscured at times by drifting clouds,something rather unusual in that part of the country for a night thatwas not stormy, and did not threaten to become so.
Coming suddenly to the main street of the town, which led straight fromthe hotel to the jail, Barney paused and listened.
He heard a sound that caused his heart to beat faster, while he held hisbreath and strained his ears.
Tramp! tramp! tramp! It was the swift and steady rush of many feet.
There was no sound of voices, but the crouching boy knew a body of menwas approaching.
Barney drew back, concealing himself as well as he could, and waited.
Nearer and nearer came the sound.
A cloud passed from the face of the moon, and then the watching boy sawa band of men rushing swiftly past his place of concealment.
The men were masked, and all were armed.
They were moving straight toward the jail.
"Th' lynchers!" panted Barney. "They are afther Frankie! Oi must get toth' joail ahead av thim!"
He ran back along the side street till he came to another that led inthe same direction as the one along which the mob was rushing. Turningtoward the jail, he ran as he had never ran before in all his life.
On the front door of the jail was a push-button that connected by a wirewith a gong within the building. A push on that button set the gong toclamoring loudly.
"Rattle-ty-clang-clang! rattle-ty-clang!
"Wa'al, what's thet mean?" growled Hank Kildare, as he leaped up fromthe couch on which he had been reclining lazily. "What derned fool ispunchin' away at thet thar button like he hed gone clean daft! Hyar thercritter ring!"
Kildare looked at his revolvers, then picked up a short-barreledshotgun, and went out into the corridor that led to the door. Reachingthe door, he shot open a small panel and shouted:
"Whatever do yer think ye're doin' out thar? Will yer stop thet tharracket, ur shall I guv yer a dost out o' this yar gun!"
"Mr. Kildare, is thot yersilf?" panted a voice, which the sheriff hadheard before, and which he immediately recognized.
"Wa'al, 'tain't nobody else."
"Will yes be afther lettin' me in?"
"What's ther matter?"
"Th' lynchers are comin'!"
Kildare peered out, and the moon, which did not happen to be hidden atthat moment, showed him the boy who stood alone at the door.
Clank, clank, clank!--the sheriff shot back the bolts which held thedoor, open it swung a bit, out shot his arm, and his fingers closed onBarney Mulloy's shoulder.
Snap--the boy was jerked into the jail. Slam--the door closed, and thebolts shot back into place.
"Howly shmoke!" gasped Barney. "Is it all togither Oi am, ur be Oi inpaces?"
"Ye're hyar," came in a growl from the sheriff's throat. "Now tell mew'at yer mean by wakin' me an' kickin' up all this yar row."
"Th' lynchers are comin'."
"How do yer know?"
"Oi saw thim. Less than thray minutes ago."
"Where?"
"Back a short pace."
"How many of them?"
"I didn't count, but it's a clane hundred, sure."
Kildare asked Barney several more questions, and he was satisfied thatthe boy spoke the truth.
The deputy sheriff had slept in the jail that night, and, together withthe guard, he was now at hand.
"Look out fer this yar boy," directed Kildare. "One o' yer git ther hoseready. I'm goin' ter try my new arrangement fer repellin' an attack."
He rushed away.
The deputy sheriff, whose name was Gilson, opened a small square door inthe wall of the corridor, and dragged forth a coil of hose.
"Pwhat are ye goin' ter do with thot?" asked Barney, in surprise.
"Wait, an' ye'll see," was the reply.
Then the deputy spoke to the guard.
"Tyler, be ready ter let ther prisoner loose if the mob breaks in an'gits past me. You kin tell by watchin'. You know it's Hank's order thetther cell be opened an' ther poor feller give a chance ter fight fer hislife."
"Where is he?" palpitated Barney. "Oi'll shtand by him till he doies!"
"Ye kin do better by stayin'
hyar," declared the deputy. "Ye may beneeded."
Bang! bang! bang!
The lynchers had arrived, and they were hammering on the door. The gongbegan to clang wildly.
"Open this door!"
"Why don't Hank turn on ther water up above?" came anxiously from thelips of the deputy. "Kin it be thet his tank on ther roof has leakeddry? Ef so, his new scheme fer repellin' an attackin' party won't workvery well."
"Open this door!" shouted a commanding voice outside.
The deputy sprang to the small panel and flung it open.
"What d'yer want yere?" he demanded.
"We want to come in," was the answer.
"Wa'al, yer can't."
"We'll agree to stay out on one condition. If you will pass outsomething, we'll agree not to break in."
"What's ther something?"
"Black Harry."
"I reckoned so."
"Will you give him up?"
"No."
"Then we shall break down the door, and I warn you that it will be veryunfortunate if any of us is injured. It might bring about the lynchingof other parties besides Black Harry."
"Wa'al, I warn yer ter keep away from yere. We're goin' ter defend therprisoner regardless, an' somebody's bound ter git hurt."
"For the last time, will you open?"
"No."
"Down with the door!"
Crash! crash!--the assault on the door began.
Frank Merriwell's Bravery Page 8
