CHAPTER VIII.
NOT YET!
With a groan Deadwood Dick fell to the ground, blood spurting from awound in his breast. The bullet of the elder Filmore had indeed struckhome.
Loud then were the cries of rage and vengeance, as a score of maskedmen poured out from the thickets, and surrounded the stage.
"Shoot the accursed nigger!" cried one. "He's killed our leader, an'by all the saints in ther calendur he shall pay the penalty!"
"No! no!" yelled another, "well do no such a thing. He shall swing inmid-air!"
"Hey!" cried a third, rising from the side of the prostrateload-agent, "don' ye be so fast, boys. The capt'in still lives. He isnot seriously wounded even!"
A loud huzza went up from the score of throats, that caused a thousandechoing reverberations along the mountain side.
"Better let ther capt'in say what we shall do wi' yon cuss o'creashun!" suggested one who was apparently a leading spirit; "it's_his_ funeral, ain't it?"
"Yas, yas, it's his funeral!"
"Then let him do ther undertakin'."
Robber Dick was accordingly supported to a sitting posture, and theblood that flowed freely from his wound was stanched. In the operationhis mask became loosened and slipped to the ground, but so quickly didhe snatch it up and replace it, that no one caught even a glimpse ofhis face.
In the meantime Clarence Filmore had discharged every load in his twosix-shooters into the air. He had an object in doing this; he thoughtthat the reports of fire-arms would reach Deadwood (which was only ashort mile distant, around the bend), and arouse the military, whowould come to his rescue.
Dick's wound dressed, he stood once more upon his feet, and glared upat the two men on the box. They were plainly revealed in the ghostlymoonlight, and their features easily studied.
"Alexander Filmore!" the young road-agent said, a terrible depth ofmeaning in his voice, that the cowering wretch could but understand.
"Alexander Filmore, you have at last come out and shown your truecolors. What a treacherous, double-dyed villain you are! Better so;better that you should take the matter into your own hands and facethe music, than to employ _tools_, as you have done heretofore. I canfight a dozen enemies face to face better than one or two lurking inthe bushes."
The elder Filmore uttered a savage curse.
"You triumph _now!_" he growled, biting his nether lip in vexation;"but it will not always be thus."
"Eh? think not? I think I shall have to _adopt_ you for awhile. Boys,haul down the two, and bind them securely."
Accordingly, a rush was made upon the stage, and the two outsidepassengers. Down they were hauled, head over heels, and quicklysecured by strong cords about the wrists and ankles.
This done, Deadwood Dick turned to Bill McGucken, who had ventured toclamber to the seat of the coach.
"Drive on, you cowardly lout--drive on. We've done with you for thepresent. But, remember, not a word of this to the population ofDeadwood, if you intend to ever make another trip over this route.Now, go!"
Jehu needed not the second invitation. He never was tardy in gettingout of the way of danger: so he picked up the reins, gave an extrahard crack of the long whip, and away rolled the jolting stage throughthe black canyon, disappearing a moment later around the bend, beyondwhich lay Deadwood--magic city of the wilderness.
Then, out from the thicket the road-agents led their horses; the twoprisoners were secured in the saddles in front of two brawny outlaws,and without delay the cavalcade moved down the gorge, weirdlyilluminated by the mellow rays of the soaring moon.
* * * * *
Clarence Filmore had hoped that the report of his pistol-shots wouldreach Deadwood. If so, his wishes were fulfilled. The reports reachedthe barracks above Deadwood just as a horseman galloped up thehill--Major R----, just in from a carouse down at the "Met."
"Halloo!" he shouted, loudly. "To horse! there is trouble in thegorge. The Sioux, under Sitting Bull, are upon us!"
As the major's word was law at the barracks, in very short order thegarrison was aroused, and headed by the major in person, a cavalcadeof sleepy soldiers swept down the gorge toward the place whence hadcome the firing.
Wildly around the abrupt bend they dashed with yells of anticipatedvictory: then there was a frightful collision between the incomingstage and the outgoing cavalry; the shrieks and screams of horses, thecurses and yells of wounded men; and a general pandemonium ensued.
The coach, passengers, horses and all was upset, and went rolling downa steep embankment.
Major R---- was precipitated headlong over the embankment, and in hisdownward flight probably saw more than one soaring comet. He struckhead-first in a muddy run, and a sorrier-looking officer of the U.S.A.was never before seen in the Black Hills as he emerged from his bath,than the major. His ridiculous appearance went so far as to stay thegeneral torrent of blasphemy and turn it into a channel of boisterouslaughter.
No delay was made in putting things ship-shape again, and ere morningdawned Deadwood beheld the returned soldiers and wrecked stage withits sullen passengers within its precincts.
Dick and his men rode rapidly down the canyon, the two prisonersbringing up the rear under the escort of two masked guards.
These guards were brothers and Spanish-Mexicans at that.
The elder Filmore, a keen student of character, was not long in makingout these Spaniards' true character, nor did their greedy glancestoward his and his son's diamonds escape him.
"We want to get free!" he at last whispered, when none of those aheadwere glancing back. "You will each receive a cool five hundred apieceif you will set us at liberty."
The two road-agents exchanged glances.
"It's a bargain!" returned one. "Stop your horses, and let the othersgo on!"
The main party were at this juncture riding swiftly down a steepgrade.
The four horses were quietly reined in, and when the others were outof hearing, their noses were turned back up the canyon in thedirection of Deadwood.
"This will be an unhealthy job for us!" said one of the brothers,"should we ever meet Dick again."
"Fear him not!" replied Alexander Filmore, with an oath. "If he evercrosses your path shoot him down like a dog, and I'll give you athousand dollars for the work. The sooner he dies the better I'll besuited."
He spoke in a tone of strongest hate--deepest rancor.
Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road; or, The Black Rider of the Black Hills Page 8
