Jack Wright and His Electric Stage
Page 9
They all got their feet stuck in the sand as they fought and struggled to reach firm land, for the trees were now sunk but they finally managed to get ashore.
Here they found Tim bombarding the woods.
All the bandits had seen what was happening, and now opened fire upon them again.
The old sailor procured two bombs.
He let thus drive in the direction the shots came from, and they ripped the woods and blew up rocks and trees, and created the most terrific devastation.
That silenced the outlaws.
None of them were killed, but many were wounded, and they now lost no time at making their escape.
Jack and his companions hastened back aboard the Terror, and sent her flying back to the road.
There they waited for the appearance of some of the gang; but they waited in vain.
All had escaped in the other direction.
When assured of this, the four adventurers went inside to change their clothing, and rest themselves.
Jack’s companions told him how they happened to be found sinking in the bed of quicksand.
“They meant to kill you!” he exclaimed.
“Ay, ay, lad! But you balked ‘em!” chuckled Tim.
“And I’ve get most of the stolen money back,” laughed Jack, as he held up the wad of bank notes he took from Jesse James.
“Donner und blitzen! Vot a surbrised barty dot vos fer der pandits,” roared Fritz. “Inshtid of Yesse Yames hookin’ money from odder beoples, it must haf peen shtrange fer him ter haf money hooked from him alretty.”
“Yes–a very novel experience for the thief,” said the sheriff, dryly. “I congratulate you, Mr. Wright, for doing something to that villain that nobody else ever did. It is a most remarkable thing for Jesse James to be robbed.”
“I reckerlect when I wuz in ther navy,” said Tim, “I once had a experience like that. We went out ter hunt fer a fillibuster’s ship when wot wuz our surprise ter have ther lubber tackle us. Gee whiz! wuzn’t I mad! I ups an’ loads one o’ther guns ter fire at him when he slipped aroun’ asturn us. As we couldn’t train no gun ter b’ar on him in that ther sitiwation wot should I do but git a coil o’ rope, mount ther riggin’ an’ lasso his capstan, It wuz a mighty good throw too. Waal, sir, we heaved an’ hauled on that ere rope, dragging ther lubber over to our ship until we got him alongside—”
“And none of them attempted to cut your lasso from their capstan?” asked Jack. “They must have wanted to get captured.”
“It’s werry funny,” said Tim, “but none o’ them seemed ter think o’ doin’ that. Waal, sir, as soon as we hauled ‘em alongside we had a broadside ready ter pour inter that craft ter blow her ter pieces, an’ ther gunners wuz at ther posts ready ter fire. But afore we could carry out this plan ther willians boarded us an’ captured us an’ our ship.”
“It can’t be possible?”
“But it wuz, my lad.”
“How did you escape?”
“One night I got free an’ rushed into the powder magazine with a lit pipe in my mouth, an’ them arter me.”
“If you were a prisoner where did you got the lit pipe?”
“Oh, I had it,” replied Tim. “Ter continer, seein’ my enemies all rushin’ arter me, I took ther pipe an’ yelled fer ‘em ter go back or I’d drop ther burnin’ baccy inter ther powder. They refused—”
“And you dropped the light into the powder?”
“No. Ther light had gone out,” grinned Tim. “It skeered ‘em so though, that when they recovered they bolted out, an’ fearin’ ter git blowed up, they all jumped overboard an’ was drowned. I released my messmates, an’ we took ther ship.”
“Tim, is that a lie, or a fabrication?”
“A fabrication, o’ course,” indignantly and innocently answered the old salt. “D’yer s’pose Tim Topstay would tell a lie?”
*
CHAPTER XVI.
THE CAPTURE OF WOOD HITE.
On the second day after the aforegoing events occurred Fritz happened to glance into the water tank of the Terror and noticed that their supply of liquid was running low.
This was very unpleasant, as they were then nowhere near any spring or stream, and he walked into the front room where Jack sat talking to Timberlake, and said:
“Dere don’t vos more as enough water to last bis to-night.”
“That’s too bad. Can’t we get a supply near here?” said Jack.
“Not that I am aware of,” answered the sheriff. “But, about three miles along the road there is a farm-house, and we can get all we want from the countryman’s cistern.”
“Suppose we go there and try,” suggested Jack.
“Vell, I dell Dim,” said the Dutchman.
He then spoke to the old sailor who was steering, and Tim sent the stage in the direction indicated.
In a short time they came in view of the farm-house.
This had scarcely been done when Tim caught sight of a man with his head swathed in bandages rush out of the house to the stable from whence he soon emerged on horseback.
He gave one glance back at the stage and then, plunging spurs into his steed’s flanks, he dashed away.
Off he went across the rolling country at a furious pace, his peculiar action at once arresting Tim’s attention.
The old sailor only had one eye, but it was a good one, for no sooner had he seen the fugitive’s face when he recognized him as that mercenary member of the James Boys’ gang called Wood Hite, and noted as a desperate ruffian.
“Gee whiz!” gasped Tim.
“What’s the matter?” asked Jack.
“Thar goes Wood Hite!”
“Is that so?”
“Ay, an’ his head is all bandaged!”
“He must have been wounded.”
“Sartin, and he wuz in thar farm-house tryin’ ter git well.”
“He must have seen us coming and got scared out.”
“Jist my opinion, Jack.”
The young inventor came out on the front platform.
He gazed long and earnestly at the flying rider and then said:
“You have made no mistake–that’s Hite.”
“This ere ole eye o’ mine are a regler telescope.”
“Chase the villain, Tim!”
“You bet I will.”
And pulling the dynamo lever over as far as it would go, the old sailor spun the wheel around, turning the stage from the high road, and sent her flying after the horseman.
“If he thinks we can’t run on anything but hard ground,” said Jack, grimly, “he will soon learn his error.”
“That ere’s a mighty good nag he’s a-ridin’.”
“Yes–all the James Boys’ gang are well mounted.”
“Ain’t Hite ther lubber wots allers grubbin’ fer money?”
“Yes, he, the most grasping one of the gang.”
“D’yer reckon as thar’s any more o’ his messmates in ther farm-house?”
“No, I believe not. If there had been, they would have come out with him,” replied Jack, as they flew past the old house.
“S’posen we runs him down?”
“I’ll make him admit where the rest of the gang is.”
“Ay, now, that’s a blamed good plan.”
The bandit had taken refuge in the house, as he had suffered a very bad wound, but having seen from one of the upper bed rooms that the stage was coming, he took alarm and fled as has been recorded.
By so doing, he greatly amazed the good people with whom he had been stopping, as they knew nothing of his real character in consequence of a lie he told them.
The man was wild with fear.
He spurred and lashed his horse furiously.
And he kept his lead with remarkable speed.
The Terror rattled and bumped over the rougher grass, but found it pretty good going anyway, as the open country of Missouri is generally fairly level.
Tim watched the contest with int
erest.
He could not help admiring the bandit’s good riding.
But he also saw that the stage slowly but surely began to gain.
“Fer a short dash, that was prutty good!” he remarked.
“In a long race no animal on earth could run against us though,” replied Jack smiling.
“See how we’re overhaulin’ ther lubber!”
“In a few minutes well reach him, Tim, and—”
Bang!
The fugitive fired back.
Zing! came the bullet.
It grazed Jack’s head.
One inch nearer and it would have killed him!
“Hit yer?” asked Tim, in alarm.
“No, just missed,” coolly replied the inventor.
“Gee! it hummed like a bumble bee!”
“Yes, it was a dangerous shot.”
“Shall I heave him one, an’ drop him?”
“No! I want to take him alive.”
On they continued to go until at last the Terror was very close to the bandit.
“There is nothing can save you from capture now!” Jack shouted at him. “Surrender, you dog!”
“I’m blowed if I will!” roared Wood Hite.
He made one last supreme effort to forge ahead, but finding he could not do it, he leveled his revolver at Tim.
Jack had a pistol in hand.
He aimed, and fired it at Hite’s weapon.
Simultaneous with the explosion of the bullet there came a wild howl from the bandit, and his pistol flew up in the air, ruined beyond repair.
“I’m struck!” he groaned.
“Will you quit?” demanded Jack.
“Don’t drop me and I will.”
“All right! Dismount!”
The fugitive pulled in the panting and sweating horse, and Tim stopped the electric stage.
Down to the ground jumped the bandit, and raising his hands above his head he roared:
“Mind you now–no games, partner.”
“What was you doing in that farm house?”
“Getting over the wounds you gave me.”
“Where are the rest of the gang?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come, come! No lies!”
“I tell you I don’t know.”
“We’ll see,” said Jack, pulling out his watch and drawing a bead on the man. “It is now three minutes to four. At precisely four o’clock, unless you tell us where I can find the James Boys, I’ll fire!”
“Say! don’t do that!” cried the bandit, in alarm.
“That’s the law.”
“But I really don’t—”
“One minute.”
“For Heaven’s sake, let up!”
“You are wasting valuable time, Wood Hite.”
“If I knew I’d tell you quick enough.”
“Your time on earth is growing mighty short.”
“Won’t anything else satisfy you?”
“No. Two minutes!”
“Good Lord A’mighty!”
“Speak–quick!”
“It’s as much as my life is worth!”
“Very well. Ten seconds more!”
The outlaw was as pale as death.
The bandages around his head added to the look of unutterable woe upon his haggard face.
He trembled like an aspen, and burst into a cold, clammy perspiration, and was breathing heavily.
Jack glanced up from his watch.
“Time’s up!” he exclaimed.
“Mercy!”
“Speak, or perish!”
“Yes! yes! I’ll tell.”
“Well?”
“To-morrow at two o’clock they’ll be in Husking Valley.”
“What for?”
“To raid the town.”
“Any particular place?”
“Yes–the bank.”
“Good! We’ll be there. What’s the plan?”
“Jess did not mention it.”
“That will do.”
“Can I go now?”
“Oh, no; we want you.”
“What for?”
“To go with us. I want to see if you lied. Come here!”
Wood Hite slouched up to the stage, cast a regretful glance at his horse which was browsing the grass, and Tim tied his hands behind his back.
He was then hustled into the stage, and Jack had a short conversation with Timberlake about the place where the alleged raid was to occur.
The town was a place remote from where they then were, and the sheriff directed Tim in which direction to go.
Meeting with another farm house, they procured some water and then sped away.
That night they arrived in the vicinity of Husking Valley, and Jack entered the town to reconnoiter the ground.
*
CHAPTER XVII.
RAIDING THE BANK.
On the following afternoon there were a great many strangers in the town of Husking Valley, but the residents did not consider this very strange, as the County Fair was being held there.
These fairs were matters of great importance to the natives.
They always brought large crowds of strangers from the surrounding country, and created a rather lively scene.
Jack was lurking near the bank with Timberlake, and Tim and Fritz were aboard the Terror in easy hailing distance, yet completely concealed from view.
The inventor and his companion stood in a doorway close to the bank, intently watching the thronging natives.
“Here’s another example of the James Boys’ cunning,” said Jack, finally breaking the silence.
“To what do you allude?” moodily asked the sheriff.
“Why, Jesse James timing his arrival here during the fair.”
“In what way was that a sharp move?”
“To do this job he would need the gang, wouldn’t he?”
“I think he would not venture it without them.”
“And he must have known the fair was going on.”
“Probably he did.”
“Wouldn’t the entrance of his gang to the town excite a great deal of comment and attention if there were no fair?”
“Naturally, as crowds in country towns are unusual.”
“Well, I figure it that he knew the fair was in progress here, that he knew the crowd would cloak his entrance of his gang, and they would therefore excite no suspicion.”
“That seems to be pretty likely.”
“Would you know all the men if you saw them?”
“I believe so–at any rate, I would recognize the old members. He occasionally recruits new men. We have wiped out some of the newer element. I noticed that although some of the old bandits were wounded during our engagement with them, the ones who fell were mostly new men.
“That’s the reason they fell perhaps. The older birds had experience enough to keep out of harm’s way.”
“Well, if any of them happen to go into that bank, you can rest assured that I’ll recognize them.”
“It’s half-past two now, but they haven’t materialized yet.”
“Maybe Wood Hite was lying to save his life.”
“No–I think not. His tones had a truthful ring.”
Jack glanced across the street at the bank.
It was a a small brick building, with two iron-barred windows and a door flush with the street, through which he could see the entire interior.
There were half a dozen clerks busy inside behind a long desk, before which there was a wire netting that rose almost to the ceiling.
The first window nearest the door was that of the cashier, the next was that of the paying-teller, and the next the receiving-teller, after which followed the book-keepers and discount clerk.
All were busy at their various occupations, as it had been a rush day, in consequence of the large crowd.
Jack had seen every man, woman and child, who had gone in or come out since midday, and he had scanned every one who had passed by wit
hout detecting a bandit.
Yet his patience did not give out.
“Do you suppose our prisoner knows what method Jesse James will employ in his attempted raid?” he asked.
“No. He never tells his plans to the men, as a rule, until a very short time before they are carried out. Jesse James is very cautious and suspicious. He knows that the hand of every honest man is turned against him. He is even on the alert for danger. He is quick witted, deep, dark and cunning, and he wouldn’t trust his own brother out of his sight. That probably accounts for the wonderful success he has always had at carrying out his daring plans, and escaping the consequence.”
“The fellow is certainly a marvel in some ways.”
“He inspires his men with fear of him. I have particularly noticed this of the Ford Boys. They seem to think that every time he looks at them he suspects them of treachery, and they seem to think that every time he draws a gun he is going to kill them. Most of the rest have the same feeling about Jesse. They all fear him, yet he has a strange marked influence over them. It seems to inspire the gang with a certain trust, respect, and blind obedience to his commands.”
“Hello! what’s that? See there?”
“What?” asked Timberlake in startled tones.
Jack pointed down the street.
A great cloud of dust was rising there.
People were scattering right and left, and as it drew nearer, Jack distinguished a huge coal black horse bestrode by a man who rode him furiously.
“What is it, Timberlake–a madman?”
“It looks like a horse running away.”
“The man rides it as if he were part of the animal.”
“Heavens, what speed! See–here he comes!”
Like wildfire the rider came thundering along.
In a few moments he was in plain sight.
“Some drunken countryman on the rampage!” muttered Jack.
“That fellow will kill somebody yet.”
“When he goes by let us stroll over to the bank, and quietly warn the clerks of Jesse James’ plot to put them on their guard. Then they will be ready for him.”
“It’s too late to do that now.”
“Why so?”
“Because that rider is Jesse himself!”
Jack shot a keen glance at the man, and a startled cry escaped him, for the horse was certainly the famous Siroc and the rider the king of the bandits!
“What’s his purpose, Timberlake?” gasped Jack.