CHAPTER XVII.
THE MEETING IN THE WOODS.
After leaving Pawnee Brown, Jack Rasco followed the trail of his horsethrough a small grove of trees and along the upper bank of the verystream upon which the great scout encountered Yellow Elk.
"Blamed ef he didn't go further nor I expected," muttered Rasco tohimself as he trudged along. But the hoof-prints were now growingfresher and fresher, telling that the animal could not be far off.
The woods passed, he began ascending a small hill. At the top of thiswas a level patch, thickly overgrown with short brush.
He had just entered the brush when he heard a strange sound. He listenedintently.
"Thet's a hoss in pain," he said to himself. "Too bad if the critter hezhad a tumble an' broke a leg! If that's---- By gum!"
Jack had stumbled upon a large opening directly in the midst of thebrush. Before he could turn back the very soil beneath his feet gaveway, and over and over he rolled down an incline of forty-five degrees,to bring up at last at the edge of a pool of black water and mud.
Fortunately he was not hurt, although the roll had dazed him and cutshort his wind. As soon as he could he leaped to his feet and gazedaround him.
The horse he had heard lay half in and half out of the mud. Its leg wascaught between two rocks, and it was trying frantically to free itself.It was his own beast, and at once recognized him.
"Whoa there!" cried Rasco, and did all he could to soothe the animal.The horse appeared to understand that assistance was at hand, and becamequiet, while Rasco quickly released the locked leg and the beastfloundered up to a safe footing.
"Well, we're in a pocket, 'pears ter me," reflected the man of theplains as he gazed about him. On three sides the walls of the hole werevery nearly perpendicular, on the fourth the slant was as previouslystated, but here the soil was spongy and treacherous.
"Hang me ef I'm a-goin' ter stay here all day," muttered Rasco, after aview of the situation. "Come, boy, it's up thet slope or nuthin'," andhe leaped on the horse's back and urged him forward on a run.
Twice did the horse try to ascend to the plain above and fail. ThenRasco urged him forward a third time. This time the beast balked andaway went the man of the plains over his head.
Fortunately Rasco landed in a tolerably soft spot, otherwise his neckwould surely have been broken. As it was, his head struck the root of afallen tree, which had once stood upon the edge of the hole, and herolled back near the pool all but senseless.
It was a quarter of an hour later before he felt like stirring again.
"Hang the hoss!" he murmured half aloud, yet, all told, he did not blamethe animal so much for balking. "Couldn't do it, eh, boy?" he said, andthe beast shook his mane knowingly.
"Git along alone, then!" went on Rasco, and struck the horse on theflank.
Away went the steed, and this time the top of the hole was gainedwithout much difficulty.
"Now you're out, how am I ter make it?"
It was easy to ask this question, but not so easy to answer it. Rascotried to run up the spongy incline and sank to his knees.
"Ain't no use; I'll try a new game," he growled.
Fortunately, Rasco was in the habit of carrying, in cowboy fashion, alariat suspended from his belt. This he now unwound and with a dexterousthrow caught the outer loop over a sturdy bush growing over one of theperpendicular sides of the opening.
Testing the lariat, to make certain it was firm, he began to ascend handover hand. This was no light task, yet it was speedily accomplished, andwith a sigh of relief he found himself safe once more.
But in the meantime the horse had trotted off, alarmed by a black snakein the long grass. Rasco saw this snake a minute later, but the reptileslunk out of sight before he could get a chance to dispatch it.
The trail of the horse led again back to the ravine, but not in thedirection of the cave. Bound to secure the animal before rejoiningPawnee Brown, Rasco loped along in pursuit.
He was in the ravine, and had just caught sight of his steed once more,when he heard several pistol shots coming from a distance. These werethe shots fired by Pawnee Brown at the wildcat. He listened intently,but no more shots followed, and being below the level of the surroundingcountry, he was unable to locate the discharge of firearms.
"Something is wrong somewhar," he mused. "Can thet be Pawnee shootin',or is it Dick an' the others?"
He secured the horse and began to ascend out of the ravine, when amurmur of voices broke upon his ears. One of the voices sounded familiarand he soon recognized it as that of Louis Vorlange.
Instantly dismounting, he tied his animal fast to a tree that thecreature might not wander away again, and worked his way noiselesslythrough the brush. The voices came from a nearby clearing, andapproaching, Rasco saw on horseback Louis Vorlange and half a dozencavalrymen, among them Tucker, Ross and Skimmy, the trio who had soughtto detain Dick as a horse thief.
"I feel certain they will come this way," one of the strange trooperswas saying. "I saw at least two boomer spies along yonder ravine."
"They will come to Honnewell," answered Vorlange. "It may be thatinstead of making a rush they will try to sneak in during the night, oneat a time."
"We'll be ready for 'em," muttered Tucker. "I know my meat," he added,significantly, to Vorlange, meaning that he had not forgotten the rewardoffered if, in a battle he should lay Pawnee Brown and Dick low. At thewords Vorlange nodded.
"When will the reinforcements be up this way?" asked Ross.
"I have already sent word to headquarters," answered Vorlange. "Thelieutenant is sure to respond without delay."
"Do you reckon the boomers know we are on hand to stop them?" questionedSkimmy.
"They know nothing," answered Vorlange. "If Pawnee Brown leads his menin this direction they will fall directly into a trap--if the lieutenantdoes as I have advised, and I think he will."
"I hope the boomers start to fight and give us a chance to wipe 'emout," muttered Ross.
"There will be a fight started, don't you fear," answered Vorlange.
The spy meant what he said. Too cowardly to meet Pawnee Brown face toface, he wanted to make sure that the great scout should be killed.
This would happen if a battle came off, for he felt sure Tucker would doexactly as he promised.
Vorlange had determined to be on hand. Secreted in a tree or elsewherehe could fire a dozen shots or so into the air, and this would arouseboth cavalrymen and boomers to think that actual hostilities had alreadystarted, and then neither side would longer hold off.
"When will the boomers move?" was one of the cavalryman's questions.
"They are waiting for Pawnee Brown," said the spy.
"Where is he?"
"Somewhere about the country."
"Can he be up here?"
Vorlange started.
"I--I think not.
"He's a slick one, Vorlange; remember that."
"I know it, but some men are slicker. Wait until this boom is busted andyou'll never hear of Pawnee Brown again."
So the talk ran on. Rasco listened with much interest, forgetting thefact that he had promised to follow Pawnee Brown as soon as thestray-away horse was secured.
What he had heard surprised him greatly.
Many of the plans of the boomers, made in such secrecy, were known tothe government authorities. The plan to move westward to Honnewell wasknown, and a passage through to Oklahoma from that direction was,consequently, out of the question.
"The boys must know of this," thought Rasco. "I must tell Clemmer andGilbert before I try to hunt up Pawnee again, or go after Nellie. Ifthere was a fight as Vorlange seems to think, there might be a hundredor more killed."
Having overheard all that he deemed necessary, the man of the plainsstarted to retreat.
He had taken but a few steps when he found himself cut off from hishorse.
Three additional cavalrymen were approaching from the thicket.
"Here's a horse tied up!"
cried one. "Boys, whose animal is this?"
The call instantly attracted the attention of Vorlange and hiscompanions. They turned toward the speaker, and now there remainednothing for Rasco to do but to run for it, and this he did at the top ofhis speed.
As long as he could he kept out of sight behind the bushes. But soonTucker caught sight of him.
"Halt, or I'll fire!" came the command.
Tucker spoke first, and several others followed. As Rasco was now inplain view, and as each of the enemy had a firearm of some sort aimed athim, it would have been foolishness to have thus courted death, and theman of the plains halted.
"It is Jack Rasco!" cried Vorlange. "Boys, this is Pawnee Brown'sright-hand man!"
"I know him!" growled Tucker. "Rasco, you're in a box now and don't youforget it. You've been spying on us."
"Make him a prisoner," said another of the cavalrymen, an underofficer. "If he is a spy we'll have to take him back to the fort andturn him over to the captain."
A minute later Jack Rasco found himself a close prisoner. It wasdestined to be some time ere he again obtained his liberty. Thus werehis chances of helping Pawnee Brown cut off.
Boy Land Boomer; Or, Dick Arbuckle's Adventures in Oklahoma Page 17
