CHAPTER XV.
BANKER BROWN OF POWDER POCKET.
Meantime, Captain Joaquin had gone straight to the cabin.
He believed that Susana would go there to gather up some effects beforetrying to run away.
Of course he knew, or believed, that the shot had been fired at him byher, and that only confirmed the suspicion he had formed against her.
Had he caught her, a horrible fate would have been hers. Smartingunder the wound she had given him--for the bullet had lodged in hisshoulder--he was in the right mood to wreak vengeance.
But he failed to find her.
There was no sign of her at the cabin, no indication that she had beenthere--in fact, the servants declared that she had not been there.
Back he started, and had gone but a little way when he met his mencoming, and he scattered them all to look for the missing young woman,with orders to take her dead or alive.
They went out by the various trails--rather possible avenues, for therewere no trails proper there, but they failed to find her. And whenCaptain Joaquin and two of the men came out at the place where Dick hadbeen hanged, they found his body swaying to and fro in the breeze.
Nor was she found. And when, later on in the night, others of the bandcame in in haste with certain intelligence concerning the sheriff andhis posse, Captain Joaquin deserted his cabin and took to the hills,and was not seen in that section again. On the following day the cabinwas discovered and looted and burned, but the birds had flown.
Meanwhile, Deadwood Dick, with Susana, was making his way to the south,keeping to the hills in order not to be discovered.
Dick wanted it to appear that he was dead.
He learned enough from Susana to give him a suspicion as to whatCaptain Joaquin would do, and he felt that he could afford to give himtime.
They crossed the border into Mexico, where Dick quietly rested for aseason to recover his full measure of health and strength, and whereSusana was his devoted slave and companion.
Inquiry was being made in every direction for Deadwood Dick.
It was known that the last case he had undertaken was the hunting downof Captain Joaquin, or the Red Rover, and it was feared that he had methis death at the hands of that cutthroat and this band.
Dick remained in hiding, and thus Captain Joaquin, wherever he mightbe, would be lulled into the confirmation of his belief that DeadwoodDick was no longer to be feared. In fact, that worthy was chucklingto himself, whenever a newspaper item concerning Dick met his eye.He believed that he alone, and those of his men who had been in thesecret, could solve the mystery.
And so time passed on.
* * * * *
Powder Pocket was a roaring camp.
It was at the top notch of the biggest kind of a boom.
It had been a paying camp from the first, with rich mines on every hand.
New finds, too, were being reported almost daily, and people and moneywere flowing in as freely as water flowed down from the snow-cappedpeaks.
The newest institution of which Powder Pocket could boast was a bank.It was a private concern, had been opened on a grand scale, and wasbeing conducted on a paying basis. Money could be had in almost anyamount, on big interest and bigger security.
The head of this institution was one Sigmund Brown.
He had come to Powder Pocket about six months prior to the time of thisintroduction of the camp.
Settling down quietly, he had rented one of the best buildings in theplace, refitted it in fine style, and one morning his sign was foundadorning the front--S. Brown, Banker.
He had a game in contemplation.
He had money, the other fellows had the property. They could not doanything without money.
His money was on call, as said, but every loan was vouched for by aniron-clad mortgage, and it was his boast that in five years he wouldown the town.
The interest was high, the loan was not sufficient, in most cases, todevelop beyond the mere beginnings, and on the day when the interestcould not be met nor the principal paid, he would foreclose.
He was there to double--to treble his pile, and he made no secret amonghis intimates of his means.
One day a miner entered his private office in an excited state.
The private office was always open to those who came on particularbusiness, and this man had announced that his business was of theutmost importance.
The clerks in the main room had seen his kind before, often, and he wasreadily admitted. He was, undoubtedly, a man who had struck it rich andwas eager to mortgage and begin working the claim.
He was a bearded fellow, roughly clad, and was begrimed from hat toboots with mud and clay.
"You aire Mr. Brown?" he eagerly demanded.
"Yes, sir, I am Mr. Brown. What can I do for you, sir?"
"I have struck it rich--so all-fired rich that it has 'most turnedmy head. I want you to look at my find, which I have registered allcorrect, and lend me a loan on it so I kin open et up."
"That so? I congratulate you. Where does it lie?"
"Hardly out of gunshot from the camp, and it is the prince of 'em all,I'm bettin'."
"It will be a pleasure to me to look at it, the first opportunity, andif it is what you think, there will be no trouble about your getting aloan, I guess."
"No trouble at all, I'm bettin'. You will open yer eyes when ye see et."
"What do you consider it worth?"
"Seventy-five thousand, if a cent."
"And how much of a loan would you want?"
"Twenty-five thousand--"
"Whew!"
"What's the matter?"
"That is steep. I have never gone over ten thousand into the best ofthem."
"But I tell ye this is the best of the bunch. You will say so when yesee it, and you won't hesitate a minnit to fork et over, either."
"I must see it first of all. In a day or two--"
"Can't wait. I am in a fever. You must come with me to-day--right now!"
"Impossible; I can't--"
"I will pay ye, boss. Why, it opens up bigger'n that Castleville Bankshelled out a year ago, and I ain't hardly cracked the ground yet."
The banker had become suddenly pale.
He was a man with long hair, and wore a mustache and goatee, and wasaltogether a good-looking man.
"What do you mean?" he asked, huskily, striving hard to remaincomposed. "Where is Castleville? What do you suppose I know about anybank business at Castleville?"
"Castleville? Why, they closed the bank, you know, and set out toremove the funds to 'Frisco, but Captain Joaquin got wind of it andheld up the train and scooped the pile. Not only that, but it isbelieved that he murdered a detective about the same time."
"A detective?"
"Yes; a chap they called Deadwood Dick."
The man's face had grown paler, and he was eyeing the caller sharply.
"Well, all that is nothing to me," he declared. "I will go with youto-morrow morning, start at eight o'clock."
"And then I'll show you the richest thing you ever saw in your life, ifCaptain Joaquin don't gobble it mean time and get away with et-- Why,what's the matter?"
The banker's face was deathly.
"Nothing," he answered. "I am not exactly well to-day. Come in themorning, and I will be prepared to go with you. Then, when I have hadthe property passed upon by experts, your loan will be advanced. Youmust excuse me, but I am very busy to-day-- Great heavens!"
Deadwood Dick Jr. Branded; or, Red Rover at Powder Pocket. Page 15
