But the shafts were broken and to the stumps there yet clung the remains of a broken harness.
The old fellow was the picture of despair.
He sat on top of his load, a whip in his hand and a big, red bandana handkerchief in the other with which he was vigorously mopping his forehead.
Fritz was steering the Terror.
Observing the forlorn countryman he burst out laughing.
“Shiminey Christmas!” said he, “dot fellow vas look like as if he vas got left behint mit his horse!”
“What are you talking about?” Jack asked from inside.
“Dot wagon in der roat.”
“Where?”
“Ahet.”
Jack emerged.
He saw the wagon.
And he also noticed an old log house.
He stood embowered among some trees, rocks, and bushes some distance ahead on the left hand side of the road.
In a moment more the Terror reached the wagon, and halting beside it, the countryman glaring at it with a look of the most intense astonishment upon his face.
“For the lands sakes alive!” he gasped, “what’s that thing?”
“A stage that runs by electric power,” Jack replied.
“And what’s the trouble with you, sir?”
“I’ve been having an awful time with Eliza.”
“Eliza? Who is she?”
“My mule.”
“Oh! It looks as if she had been cutting up tricks.”
“You’d ought to have seen her; consarn her old hide–and you’d have pitied me. She’s the blamedest stubborn critter I ever seen. Once she gets her back up and quits, there’s no use trying to go no farther. Look at the way she left me.”
“Pretty sad sight.”
“I should say so. She took a sudden notion to stop right here, I coaxed and cajoled her, but she wouldn’t budge. Then my dander riz, I spit on my hands and hit her a whang on the tail, and she raised up her heels and kicked out like a battering ram.”
“How unfortunate for you.”
“It made my blood bile. I then thumped blazes out of her. The more I soaked her the wuss she kicked, until finally she kicked herself out of the harness and ran sway.”
“And left you here with your load?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you got far to go?”
“Only to yonder old log hut.”
“That isn’t far.”
“No, not when you say it quick.”
“I’ll tow you over there with this machine.”
“Will you? Oh, thank you! I was just going to ask you to do it!”
“Is that all?”
“Can you help me roll the wagon inside to protect the grain in case it rains before I can find Eliza again?”
“Certainly we will,” laughed Jack.
They hitched a rope to the wagon, and the Terror hauled it over to the door of the old building.
As the Terror could not get the wagon through the door, Jack and his companions alighted; each one manned a wheel, and the farmer seized the shafts.
Ahead they rolled it toward the open door.
But scarcely had they got it started when a dozen men, with masks on their faces and pistols in their hands, rushed out of the building and surrounded the four friends.
“The James Boys!” gasped Jack, in startled tones.
*
CHAPTER XIV.
INTO THE QUICKSAND.
It was evident to Jack that he and his friends had been the victims of a very shrewd game.
The fact was, that the James Boys had a rendezvous in the log cabin, and having held up the farmer who owned the wagon, they had stolen his money, his mule, and his clothing.
Seeing the Terror coming, Jesse concocted the scheme to trap our friends, rigged one of the gang in the farmer’s clothes, and the game was played according to the bandit king’s orders.
It looked as if it was going to be a success, too.
None of the Terror’s crew were armed.
And the outlaws had them covered with their weapons.
“Yield!” roared Jesse.
“We’re tricked!” gasped Jack.
“Hands up, or die!”
“Don’t fire! We submit!”
There was no alternative.
So the four raised their hands.
“Bind them!” ordered the outlaw chief.
His men carried out this order with alacrity.
In a few moments more all were rendered helpless.
A grim look of intense satisfaction swept over the dark bearded face of Jesse James as his four enemies lay upon the ground at his feet.
He intently regarded them a moment and then hissed:
“At last I’ve got you, Jack Wright!”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” coolly asked the inventor.
“Put you out of my way as quick as possible.”
“Very well; proceed. You have an excellent chance now.”
“I’ve got your fate settled. And yours, too, Timberlake.”
“If our positions were reversed,” bitterly said the sheriff, “I would not lose a moment about blowing your brains out!”
“I have no doubt of that,” Jesse answered, with a dark scowl. “And I’ll follow your good advice. Prepare to die.”
He drew his pistol from his belt and aimed it at Timberlake.
A tremor passed over the plucky fellow and he turned pale, for he knew he was face to face with death; but his courage did not forsake him and he quietly remarked:
“I’m ready to go. Fire!”
Before Jesse could do so. Frank sprang between him and his victim.
“Fool!” he hissed, warningly. “Do you want to throw your neck in the halter by doing this with all hands looking at you?
“Get out of my way!” savagely replied Jesse.
Although Frank was the eldest, and was accustomed to obeying his more determined brother, he did not do so in this instance.
“If you don’t stop,” he exclaimed, in angry, excited tones, “I’ll hit you.”
A look of surprise mantled Jesse’s face.
He was not accustomed to threats and disobedience from Frank.
It therefore gave him a most emphatic shock.
“Are you getting crazy?” he asked.
“No–but you must be. Think of what you are doing.”
“The men have seen me bring down my man many a time.”
“Very true. But that was in a fight. Did they ever see you commit a cool, deliberate murder?”
This version startled Jesse.
He returned the pistol to his belt.
“You are right, Frank,” said he, reluctantly. “I’ll have to swallow my rage and hang or shoot these prisoners in accordance with the law of civilized communities.”
There was a bitter tinge of sarcasm in his tones as he said this, and turning abruptly to the men he said, brusquely:
“Carry them into the hut.”
Timberlake felt relieved.
So did Jack and the rest.
If Frank had not interfered the sheriff would have been killed, for they saw a lurking demon in the glare of Jesse’s eyes when he was menacing Timberlake.
He certainly, meant to carry out his mad intention.
The prisoners were carried into the hut.
They saw the floor littered with saddles and bridles, blankets, cooking utensils and other objects of use to the bandits.
As Jack leaned against the wall opposite the open door he saw the bandits go up to the electric stage and try to get in.
The doors were secured with spring locks.
As Jesse tried to open one he was startled to hear a gruff voice inside exclaim:
“Stand back there or I’ll drop a lighted match into a powder keg!”
It was the parrot.
He had once heard that sentence uttered.
Now he used it at random, never knowing what it signified.
But it was one of the luckiest expressions he ever made, for it startled the bandits and they rushed away in alarm.
“There are more people in the stage!” exclaimed Jesse, who was deceived by Bismarck’s voice, as he knew absolutely nothing about the existence of the bird.
“But you counted only four in the crew,” said Jim Cummins.
“I know it. They may have picked up others though.”
“That’s so.”
“Give them a shot.”
There were five men with Jesse.
All had retreated from the stage.
They now opened fire upon it.
Bang–bang!
Crack–crack!
Bang–bang–bang!
No shots were returned.
This amazed them.
But they heard Bismarck yell:
“Go it, you chumps–go it.”
“Whoever that is howling,” growled Jesse, “has got a nerve! I suppose he won’t do anything until we get around the stage. Then he’ll try to blow us up.”
“Don’t go near the blamed thing then,” said Wood Hite.
“There’s nothing in it for us, but I’d like to blow the infernal thing to pieces, so it can’t do us any more damage.”
“Oh, we can do that as soon as we get more dynamite.”
“That’s so. The party who is inside will hang around here in hopes of rescuing their pals, and we’ll get a chance later.”
None of them dared go too near the stage.
Nor was it of any use to fire at the Terror.
Bullets made no impression upon it.
Jesse understood this very well.
He, therefore, retreated to the interior of the hut with his men.
Jack kept his eyes and ears wide open, and soon saw the gang follow a motion of Jesse, and group themselves in one corner of the hut, and hold a whispered, conversation.
The inventor did not hear a word they uttered.
But he saw by their actions that they were scheming some mischief against them, and the result was soon manifested.
Jesse left the crowd and approached the prisoners.
“We’ve settled your fate!” he announced abruptly.
“Indeed,” replied Jack. “What new villainy is brewing?”
“That you will find out in a few minutes. You wounded me and I know you are authorized to hunt me down, break up the gang and put us in jail. Consequently I am going to have revenge. In quarter of an hour you will be dead and buried.”
“I doubt it,” quietly answered Jack. “And as for your debt of vengeance, let me recall to your mind that it was you who aroused the enmity between us. You began it by robbing or rather swindling the Wrightstown Bank out of $5,000.”
“Oh, yes,” grinned the bandit, pulling a big roll of bills out of his pocket. “This is the money only a couple of hundred of it gone. That was quite a clever game.”
“It did not hit me as hard as it might,” said Jack. “The bank loses the money of course, but as I am the president of it, and a large stockholder, fully half the amount comes out of my pocket. I’ll get that money away from you now.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“This way.”
And up jumped Jack.
He had got Fritz to loosen his bonds with his teeth.
Once free from the wrist lashings, he liberated his ankles.
The bandit recoiled with a startled yell, and the rest arose.
Jack sprung forward, snatched the roll of bills from Jesse’s hand, shoved it in his pocket and seized the outlaw.
The young inventor was a veritable Hercules in strength.
As the gang made a rush for him, he suddenly lifted Jesse James up in the air and hurled him at the crowd.
The bandit’s body struck Bob Ford and Cole Younger, knocked them back against the crowd, and ere they all recovered from their astonishment, Jack sprang out the door and rushed to the stage.
Several pistol shots were fired after him, but as the outlaws were excited, they aimed poorly and missed their mark.
Reaching the Terror, Jack jumped aboard, and she sped away.
As soon as the outlaws recovered, and saw him escaping, Jesse yelled:
“Grab the rest, and hustle them out before they escape too!”
The gang pounced on Tim, Fritz and Timberlake.
Carrying them out of the hut by a back door, they passed through the woods until they came to a glen.
In the middle of it was a small, shallow lake, covering a bed of quicksand, and they paused upon the shore.
“Throw them in!” ordered Jesse.
His men complied.
As the prisoners were bound, they could not help themselves.
One after another they were tossed into the treacherous lake.
No sooner were their bodies upon the sand when they began to slowly sink into it.
The bandits gathered along the shore to watch their unlucky victims perish in the quicksand bed.
*
CHAPTER XV.
RESCUED FROM DEATH.
Having gained his freedom, Jack had raced away with the Terror in order to keep out of danger until he was prepared to defend himself.
He did not stop the stage until she was at a considerable distance from the rendezvous of the bandits.
Then he critically examined her.
She proved to be in first-class order.
Jack then went inside and put on a suit of armor.
Thrusting two pistols in his belt, he procured a small basket, and opening a box, he withdrew from it a dozen steel balls to each of which a small metal handle was attached.
These he put very carefully into the basket.
They were hand grenades.
Loaded with the same terrible explosive compound that he put in the bullets he used, they possessed ten times the power that ordinary dynamite shells have.
Armed with these awful missiles, he was ready to go back and single-handed engage in a fight with the whole gang.
Jack’s courage and perseverance were of a high order.
He deposited the basket in a metal, bullet-proof box on the front platform, and seating himself, seized the wheel.
“I’ve got explosives enough here to blow the whole crew to fragments,” he muttered. “And what is more, I’ll do it too, in order to wrest my friends from their clutches!”
Back along the road rolled the Terror.
The moon now rose in the sky.
In a few minutes Jack neared the hut.
Stopping the electric stage within fifty yards of it, he picked up one or the bombs and shouted:
“Jesse James, come out here, or I’ll blow that hut up!”
Receiving no reply, Jack hurled the grenade.
It struck an end of the hut.
A horrible glare of light flashed out.
It was followed by a report like thunder.
Half of the hut was blown to fragments, and the ground shook.
Jack saw at a glance that the hut was deserted.
He heard the distant voices of men among the trees, and realizing that the bandits had gone into the woods, he drove the stage along a road that wound among the trees.
In a few moments he neared the quicksand lake.
The bandits saw him coming, and aiming their rifles at the gallant young inventor they fired at him.
A storm of bullets struck Jack.
They did not pierce his armor, however.
He stooped over and picked up one of the grenades.
As soon as he arrived close enough to the outlaws, he hurled the bomb at them, and it landed in their midst.
The explosion was fearful.
Three of the villains were blown to pieces, several were knocked down, the rest were half deafened, and an uproar of hoarse yells of pain escaped those who were struck by the flying particles of metal from the exploded shell.
Seeing the Terror coming on toward them rapid
ily, the bandits who survived rushed away into the woods.
They were filled with horror and alarm.
Such weapons as Jack Wright wielded were beyond their powers of endurance, and they set him down for a fiend.
Once protected by the trees, they shot back at him.
Bang!
Crack!
Boom!
Whiz! came the shots.
Jack picked up another bomb, and let it fly.
It landed among the trees, and bursting there, spilt and tore them to pieces, and sent the outlaws flying again.
At this moment Jack was startled by a wild yell of:
“Help! Save me!”
He looked around to see where the sound came from, and beheld his three friends buried to their necks in the quicksand.
“Good heavens!” he gasped, as he realized what the outlaws had been doing to them.
“They’ve tried to murder the boys.”
He saw that they were in a bed of quicksand.
Assured that he would not have any immediate trouble from the outlaws, Jack went into the stage and got a hatchet.
He then alighted.
His friends were twenty feet from the bank.
They laid pretty close together, but were out of his reach.
Rushing in among the shrubbery. Jack rapidly cut down a number of cedar trees, and swiftly carried them to the quicksand.
With these he built a rude bridge out to his friends.
Even the trees began to sink in the sand as he walked out on them, but he reached Tim, and seizing him by the arm, he exerted all his enormous strength, and succeeded in pulling him up.
Jack cut his bonds.
“Don’t waste a moment,” he gasped, “but go ashore and cut some more of the cedars to pile on these.”
“Ay, ay,” replied Tim, and he hastened away.
Timberlake was next nearest.
“Are you fastened?” Jack asked him.
“Yes; bound hand and foot.”
“I’ll get you up in a moment.”
“Shack,” groaned Fritz. “Hurry ub.”
His mouth was even with the water, and it was with the greatest difficulty that he prevented himself swallowing it.
Tim came back and flung some cedars to Jack.
With these he built his bridge out further.
Giving the sheriff a pull that raised him a foot, Jack left him and made his way to Fritz.
He reached the Dutchman just in time to save him.
It almost pulled the fat fellow’s joints apart when the inventor hauled him up, but once he was free of his bonds and upon the cedars he aided Jack to pull the sheriff up and set him free.
Jack Wright and His Electric Stage Page 8
