This was the wood where Bud Heyland and Cyrus Sutton held their stolen interview the night before. The former was now in the immediate neighborhood, so that Fred Sheldon had reason to think something would be done in the same place before the close of day, or at most, before the rising of to-morrow's sun.
No one could have been more familiar with this small stretch of forest than was our young hero, who did not take a great while to reach a point close to the other side.
He was near the road which wound its way through it, but was on the watch to escape being seen by any one passing by.
Having reached this point, Fred stood several minutes, uncertain what he ought to do. Evidently there was nothing to be gained by advancing further, nor by turning back, so he waited.
"I wonder where Bud has gone. There is something in the wood which he is interested in——"
The thought was not expressed when the rustling of leaves was heard, and Fred knew some one was near him. Afraid of being discovered, he shrank close to the trunkof a large tree, behind which he could hide himself the moment it became necessary.
No doubt the person moving through the wood was using some care, but he did not know how to prevent the rustling of the leaves, and it is not likely he made much effort.
At any rate the advantage was on the side of Fred, who, a minute later, caught sight of a slouchy sombrero and briarwood pipe moving along at a height of five feet or so above the ground, while now and then the motion of the huge boots was seen beneath.
"It's Bud, and he's looking for something," was the conclusion of Fred, fairly trembling with excitement; "and it won't do for him to see me watching him."
The trouble was that it was now broad daylight, and it is no easy matter for one to shadow a person without being observed; but Fred had the advantage of the shelter in the dense growth of shrubbery which prevailed in most parts of the wood.
However, he was in mortal dread of discovery by Bud, for he believed the ugly fellow would kill him should he find him watching his movements.
It was this fear which caused the lad to wait a minute or two after Bud Heyland had disappeared, and until the rustling of the leaves could no longer be heard.
Then, with the utmost care, he began picking his way through the undergrowth, stopping suddenly when he caught the sound again.
The wood was not extensive enough to permit a very extended hunt, and when Fred paused a second time he was sure the end was at hand.
He was alarmed when he found, from the stillness, that Bud Heyland was not moving. Fred waited quietly, and then began slowly rising until he stood at his full height, and looked carefully around him.
Nothing could be seen of the bully, though the watcher was confident he was not far off, and it would not do to venture any further just then.
"If it was only the night time," thought Fred, "I wouldn't be so scared, for he might take me for a man; but it would never do for him to find me here."
The sudden ceasing of the rustling, which had betrayed the passage of Bud Heyland a few minutes previous could not be anything else but proof that he was near by.
"Maybe he suspects something, and is waiting to find whether he is seen by any one. Strange that in looking round he does not look up," whispered Fred to himself, recalling an anecdote which he had once heard told in Sunday-school: "Bud looks everywhere but above, where there is that Eye which never sleeps, watching his wrong-doing."
A boy has not the patience of a man accustomed to watching and waiting, and when several minutes had passed without any new developments, Fred began to get fidgety.
"He has gone on further, and I have lost him; he has done this to lead me off, and I won't see anything more of him."
But the boy was in error, and very speedily saw a good deal more of Bud Heyland than he wished.
The rustling of the leaves, such as is heard when one is kicking them up as he walks along, aroused the watcher the next minute, and Fred stealthily arose, and scanned his surroundings.
As he did so, he caught sight of Bud Heyland walking in such a direction that he was certain to pass close to him. Luckily the bully was looking another way at that moment, or he would have seen the scared face as is presented itself to view.
As Fred dropped out of sight and hastily crept behind the large tree-trunk he felt that he would willingly give the two hundred dollars that he received in the way of a reward could he but be in any place half a mile or more away.
It would never do to break into a run as he felt like doing, for then he would be sure to be discovered and captured, while there was a slight probability of not being seen if he should remain where he was.
Shortly after Fred caught sight of a pair of huge boots stalking through the undergrowth, and he knew only too well what they contained. He shrank into as close quarters as possible, and prayed that he might not be noticed.
The prayer was granted, although it will always remain a mystery to Fred Sheldon how it was Bud Heyland passed so very close to him and yet never turned his eyes from staring straight ahead.
But Bud went on, vanished from sight, and in a few minutes the rattling of the dry leaves ceased and all was quiet. The sound of wagon wheels, as a vehicle movedover the road, was heard, and then all became still again.
Not until sure the fellow was out of sight did Fred rise to his feet and move away from his hiding place. Then, instead of following Bud, he walked in the opposite direction.
"He has been out here to hunt for something and didn't find it."
Looking down to the ground the bright-eyed lad was able to see where Bud had stirred the leaves, as he carelessly walked along, no doubt oblivious of the fact that his own thoughtlessness might be used against him.
"He's the only one who has been here lately, and I think I can track him through the wood. If he had been as careful as I, he wouldn't have left such tell-tale footprints."
The work of trailing Bud, as it may be called, was not such an easy matter as Fred had supposed, for he soon found places where it was hard to tell whether or not the leaves had been disturbed by the boots of a person or the hoofs of some quadruped.
But Fred persevered, and at the end of half an hour, by attentively studying the ground, he reached a point a little over two hundred yards from where he himself had been hiding, and where he was certain Bud Heyland had been.
"Here's where he stopped, and after a while turned about and went back again," was the conclusion of Fred; "though I can't see what he did it for."
It was no longer worth while to examine the ground,for there was nothing to be learned there, and Fred began studying the appearance of things above the earth.
There were a number of varieties of trees growing about him—oak, maple, birch, chestnut and others, such as Fred had looked on many a time before, and nothing struck him as particularly worthy of notice.
But, hold! only a short ways off was an oak, or rather the remains of one, for it had evidently been struck by lightning and shattered. It had never worn a comely appearance, for its trunk was covered with black, scraggy excrescences, like the warts which sometimes disfigure the human skin.
Furthermore, the lower portion of the trunk was hollow, the width of the cavity being fully a foot at the base. The bolt from heaven had scattered the splinters, limbs and fragments in all directions, and no one could view this proof of the terrific power of that comparatively unknown force in nature without a shudder.
Fred Sheldon stood looking around him until his eye rested on this interesting sight, when he viewed it some minutes more, with open eyes and mouth.
Then, with a strange feeling, he walked slowly toward the remains of the trunk, and stepping upon one of the broken pieces, drew himself up and peered down into the hollow, rotten cavity.
He had been standing in the sunshine but a short time before, and it takes the pupil of the eye some time to become adapted to such a sudden change.
At first all was blank darkness, but shortly Fred saw something gleaming in the bottom of the opening. Hethought it was that peculiar fungus growth known as "fox-fire," but his vision rapidly grew more distinct, and drawing himself further up, he reached down and touched the curious objects with his hand.
Eureka!
There was all the silver plate which had been stolen from the old brick mansion a few nights before. Not a piece was missing!
Fred Sheldon had discovered it at last, and as he dropped back again on his feet, he threw his cap into the air and gave a shout, for just about that time he felt he was the happiest youngster in the United States of America!
On finding the stolen silver, Fred threw his cap in the air and gave a shout
On finding the stolen silver, Fred threw his cap in the air and gave a shout.
When Archibald Jackson, constable of Tottenville and the surrounding country, strode forth from the home of Widow Sheldon on the night of the call which we have described, he felt like "shaking hands with himself," for he was confident he had made one of the greatest strikes that ever came in the way of any one in his profession—a strike that would render him famous throughout the country, and even in the city of New York.
"A man has to be born a detective," he said, as he fell over a wheelbarrow at the side of the road; "for without great natural gifts he cannot attain to preeminence, as it were, in his profession. I was born a detective, and would have beaten any of those fellows from Irish Yard or Welsh Yard or Scotland Yard, or whatever they call it.
"Queer I never thought of it before, but that was always the trouble with me; I've been too modest," he added, as he climbed over the fence to pick up his hat, which a limb had knocked off; "but when this robbery at the Misses Perkinpine's occurred, instead of relying on my own brains I must send for Mr. Carter, and was worried half to death because he didn't come.
"I s'pose he found the task was too gigantic for him, so he wouldn't run the risk of failure. Then for the first time I sot down and begun to use my brains. It didn't take me long to work the thing out; it came to me like a flash, as it always does to men of genius—confound that root; it's ripped the toe of my shoe off."
But Archie was so elevated in the region of conceit and self-satisfaction that he could not be disturbed by the petty annoyances of earth; he strode along the road with his chest thrust forward and his head so high in air that it was no wonder his feet tripped and bothered him now and then.
"I don't see any use of delaying the blow," he added, as he approached his home; "it will make a sensation to-morrow when the exposure is made. The New York papers will be full of it and they will send their reporters to interview me. They'll print a sketch of my life and nominate me for governor, and the illustrated papers will have my picture, and my wife Betsey will find what a man of genius her husband—ah! oh! I forgot about that post!"
He was recalled to himself by a violent collision with the hitching-post in front of his own house, and picking up his hat and waiting until he could gain full command of his breath, he entered the bosom of his family fully resolved to "strike the blow" on the morrow, which should make him famous throughout the country.
With the rising of the sun he found himself feeling more important than ever. Swallowing his breakfast hastily and looking at his bruised knuckles, he bade hisfamily good-by, telling his wife if anybody came after him they should be told that the constable had gone away on imperative business.
With this farewell Archie went to the depot, boarded the cars and started for the country town of Walsingham, fifty miles distant. He bought a copy of a leading daily, and after viewing the scenery for several miles, pretended to read, while he gave free rein to his imagination and drew a gorgeous picture of the near future.
"To-morrow the papers will be full of it," he said, not noticing that several were smiling because he held the journal upside down, "and they'll want to put me on the force in New York. They've got to pay me a good salary if they get me—that's sartin."
Some time after he drew forth a couple of legal documents, which he read with care, as he had read them a score of times. They were correctly-drawn papers calling for the arrest of two certain parties.
"The warrants are all right," mused the officer, as he replaced them carefully in the inside pocket of his coat, "and the two gentlemen—and especially one of them—will open his eyes when I place my hand on his shoulder and tell him he is wanted."
A couple of hours later, the constable left the cars at the town of Walsingham, which was in the extreme corner of the county that also held Tottenville, and walked in his pompous fashion toward that portion where Colonel Bandman's menagerie and circus were making ready for the usual display.
It was near the hour of noon, and the regular streetparade had taken place, and the hundreds of people from the country were tramping back and forth, crunching peanuts, eating lunch and making themselves ill on the diluted stuff sold under the name of lemonade.
The constable paid scarcely any heed to these, but wended his way to the hotel, where he inquired for Colonel Bandman, the proprietor of the establishment which was creating such an excitement through the country.
Archie was told that he had just sat down to dinner, whereupon he said he would wait until the gentleman was through, as he did not wish to be too severe upon him. Then the officer occupied a chair by the window on the inside, and feeling in his pockets, to make sure the warrants were there, he kept an eye on the dining-room, to be certain the proprietor did not take the alarm and get away.
After a long time Colonel Bandman, a tall, well-dressed gentleman, came forth, hat in hand, and looked about him, as if he expected to meet some one.
"Are you the gentleman who was inquiring for me?" he asked, advancing toward the constable, who rose to his feet, and with all the impressiveness of manner which he could assume, said, as he placed his hand on his shoulder:
"Colonel James Bandman, you are my prisoner!"
The other donned his hat, looked somewhat surprised, as was natural, and with his eyes fixed on the face of the constable, asked:
"On what charge am I arrested?"
"Burglary."
"Let me see the warrant."
"Oh, that's all right," said Mr. Jackson, drawing forth a document from his pocket and opening it before him; "read it for yourself."
The colonel glanced at it for a moment, and said with a half smile:
"My name is not mentioned there; that calls upon you to arrest Thomas Gibby, who is my ticket agent."
"Oh, ah—that's the wrong paper; here's the right one."
With which he gave Colonel James Bandman the pleasure of reading the document, which, in due and legal form, commanded Archibald Jackson to take the gentleman into custody.
"I presume the offense is bailable?" asked the colonel, with an odd smile.
"Certainly, certainly, sir; I will accompany you before a magistrate who will fix your bail. Where can I find Mr. Gibby?"
"I will bring him, if you will excuse me for a minute."
Colonel Bandman started to enter the hotel again, but the vigilant constable caught his arm:
"No you don't; I'll stay with you, please; we'll go together; I don't intend you shall slip through my fingers."
The colonel was evidently good-natured, for he only laughed and then, allowing the officer to take his arm, started for the dining-room, but unexpectedly met the individual whom they wanted in the hall.
When Gibby had been made acquainted with the business of the severe-looking official he was disposed to get angry, but a word and a suggestive look from Colonel Bandman quieted him, and the two walked with the officer in the direction of a magistrate.
"I've got this thing down fine on you," ventured Mr. Jackson, by way of helping them to a feeling of resignation, "the proofs of the nefarious transaction in which you were engaged being beyond question."
Colonel Bandman made no answer, though his companion muttered something which their custodian did not catch. As they walked through the street they attracted some attention, but it was only a short distance to the magistrate's office, where the official listened attentively to the complaints. When made aware of its character he turned smilingly toward the chief prisoner and said:
"Well, colonel, what have you to say to this?"
"I should like to ask Mr. Jackson on what grounds he bases his charge of burglary against me."
"The house of the Misses Perkinpine, near Tottenville, in this county, was robbed of a lot of valuable silver plate and several hundred dollars in money on Monday night last. It was the night before the circus showed in that town. Fortunately for the cause of justice the two parties were seen and identified, especially the one who did the actual robbing. A bright young boy, who is very truthful, saw the robber at his work, identified him as the ungrateful wretch who was given his supper by the two excellent ladies, whom he baselyrobbed afterward. The description of the pretended tramp corresponds exactly with that of Colonel Bandman—so closely, indeed, that there can be no mistake about him. The account of his confederate is not so full, but it is sufficient to identify him as Mr. Gibby, there. When I was assured beyond all mistake that they were the two wretches I took out them warrants in proper form, as you will find, and I now ask that they may be held to await the action of the grand jury."
Having delivered himself of this rather grandiloquent speech, Mr. Jackson bowed to the court and stepped back to allow the accused to speak.
Colonel Bandman, instead of doing so, turned to the magistrate and nodded for him to say something. That official, addressing himself to the constable, asked:
"You are certain this offense was committed on last Monday evening?"
"There can be no possible mistake about it."
"And it was done by these two?"
"That is equally sartin."
"If one is guilty both are; if one is innocent so is the other?"
"Yes, sir; if you choose to put it that way."
"It becomes my duty to inform you then, Mr. Jackson, that Colonel Bandman has not been out of the town of Walsingham for the past six weeks; he is an old schoolmate of mine, and on last Monday night he stayed in my house with his wife and daughter. This complaint is dismissed, and the best thing you can do is to hasten home by the next train. Good day, sir."
Archie wanted to say something, but he could think of nothing appropriate, and, catching up his hat, he made haste to the station where he boarded the cars without a ticket. He was never known to refer to his great mistake afterward unless some one else mentioned it, and even then the constable always seemed anxious to turn the subject to something else.
Between nine and ten o'clock on the Saturday evening succeeding the incidents I have described, a wagon similar to the one wrecked the night before, drove out of Tottenville with two persons on the front seat.
The driver was Jacob Kincade, who, having safely passed the recaptured lion over to Colonel Bandman, secured a couple of days' leave of absence and hurried back to Tottenville, where he engaged the team, and, accompanied by Bud Heyland, drove out in the direction of the wood where matters went so unsatisfactorily when Bud assumed charge.
"I was awful 'fraid you wouldn't come to time," said Bud, when they were fairly beyond the village, "which is why I tried to run the machine myself and got things mixed. Sutton insisted on waiting till you arriv', but when he seen how sot I was he give in and 'greed to meet me at the place."
"That was all well enough," observed Mr. Kincade; "but there's some things you tell me which I don't like. You said some one was listening behind the fence the other night when you and Sutton was talking about this business."
"That's so; but Sutton showed me afterwards that the man, who was short and stumpy, couldn't have heard anything that would let him know what he was driving at. We have a way of talking that anybody else might hear every word and yet he wouldn't understand it. That's an idee of mine."
"But you said some one—and I've no doubt it's the same chap—was whistling round the wood last night and scared you, so you made up your mind to wait till to-night."
"That rather got me, but Sut says that no man that 'spected anything wrong would go whistling round the woods in that style. That ain't the way detectives do."
"Maybe not, but are you sure there ain't any of them detectives about?"
"Me and Sut have been on the watch, and there hasn't been a stranger in the village that we don't know all about. That's the biggest joke I ever heard of," laughed Bud, "that 'ere Jackson going out to Walsingham and arresting the colonel and Gibby."
"Yes," laughed Kincade, "it took place just as I was coming away. I wish they'd locked up the colonel for awhile, just for the fun of the thing. But he and Gibby were discharged at once. I came on in the same train with Jackson, though I didn't talk with him about it, for I saw he felt pretty cheap.
"However," added Kincade, "that's got nothing to do with this business, which I feel a little nervous over. It was a mighty big load for us to get out in the wood last Monday night, and I felt as though my back wasbroke when we put the last piece in the tree. S'pose somebody has found it!"
"No danger of that," said Bud. "I was out there to-day and seen that it was all right."
"Sure nobody was watching you?"
"I took good care of that. We'll find it there just as we left it, and after we get it into the wagon we'll drive over to Tom Carmen's and he'll dispose of it for us."
Tom Carmen lived at the "Four Corners," as the place was called, and had the reputation of being engaged in more than one kind of unlawful business. It was about ten miles off, and the thieves intended to drive there and place their plunder in his hands, he agreeing to melt it up and give them full value, less a small commission for his services.
The arrangement with Carmen had not been made until after the robbery, which accounts for the hiding of the spoils for several days. It did not take long, however, to come to an understanding with him, and the plunder would have been taken away the preceding night by Bud Heyland and Cyrus Sutton but for the mishaps already mentioned.
"You're sure Sutton will be there?" asked Kincade, as they approached the wood.
"You can depend on him every time," was the confident response; "he was to go out after dark to make sure that no one else is prowling around. He's one of the best fellows I ever met," added Bud, who was enthusiastic over his new acquaintance; "we've fixed up half a dozen schemes that we're going into as soon as we get this off our hands."
"Am I in?"
"Of course," said Bud; "the gang is to be us three, and each goes in on the ground floor. We're going to make a bigger pile than Colonel Bandman himself, even with all his menagerie and circus."
"I liked Sutton—what little I seen of him," said Kincade.
"Oh, he's true blue—well, here we are."
Both ceased talking as they entered the shadow of the wood, for, bad as they were, they could not help feeling somewhat nervous over the prospect.
The weather had been clear and pleasant all the week, and the stars were shining in an unclouded sky, in which there was no moon. A few minutes after they met a farmer's wagon, which was avoided with some difficulty, as it was hard to see each other, but the two passed in safety, and reached the spot they had in mind.
Here Bud Heyland took the reins, because he knew the place so well, and drew the horse aside until he and the vehicle would clear any team that might come along.
To prevent any such accident as that of the preceding night the animal was secured, and the man and big boy stepped carefully a little further into the wood, Bud uttering the same signal as before.
It was instantly answered from a point near at hand, and the next minute Cyrus Sutton came forward, faintly visible as he stepped close to them and spoke:
"I've been waiting more than two hours, and thought I heard you coming a half dozen times."
He shook hands with Kincade and Bud, the latter asking:
"Is everything all right?"
"Yes, I've had my eyes open, you may depend."
"Will there be any risk in leaving the horse here?" asked Kincade.
"None at all—no one will disturb him."
"Then we had better go on, for there's a pretty good load to carry."
"I guess I can find the way best," said Bud, taking the lead. "I've been over the route so often I can follow it with my eyes shut."
Sutton was also familiar with it, and though it cost some trouble and not a little care, they advanced without much difficulty. Bud regretted that he had not brought his bull's eye lantern with him, and beyond question it would have been of service, but Sutton said it might attract attention, and it was better to get along without it if possible.
The distance was considerable, and all of half an hour was taken in making their way through the wood, the darkness being such in many places that they had to hold their hands in front of them to escape collision with limbs and trunks of trees.
"Here we are!"
It was Bud Heyland who spoke, and in the dim light his companions saw that he was right. There was a small, natural clearing, which enabled them to observe the blasted oak without difficulty.
The little party stood close by the hiding-place of the plunder that had been taken from the old brick mansion several nights before.
"You can reach down to it, can't you?" asked Sutton, addressing Bud Heyland.
"Yes; it's only a little ways down."
"Hand it out, then," added Kincade; "I shan't feel right till we have all this loot safely stowed away with Tom Carmen at the 'Four Corners.'"
"All right," responded Bud, who immediately thrust his head and shoulders into the cavity.
He remained in this bent position less than a minute, when he jerked out his head as though some serpent had struck at him with his fangs, and exclaimed:
"It's all gone!"
"What?" gasped Jake Kincade.
"Somebody has taken everything away——"
In the dim light, Bud Heyland at that juncture observed something which amazed him still more. Instead of two men there were three, and two of them were struggling fiercely together.
These were Cyrus Sutton and Jacob Kincade, but the struggle was short. In a twinkling the showman was thrown on his back, and the nippers placed on his wrists.
"It's no use," said Sutton, as he had called himself, in a low voice; "the game is up, Jacob."
Before Bud Heyland could understand that he and Kincade were entrapped, the third man sprang forward and manipulated the handcuffs so dexterously that Bud quickly realized he was a helpless captive.
This third man was Archie Jackson, the constable, who could not avoid declaring in a louder voice than was necessary.
"We've got you both, and you may as well take it like men. This gentleman whom you two took for Cyrus Sutton, a cattle drover, is my old friend James Carter, the detective, from New York."
And such was the truth indeed.
As was intimated at the close of the preceding chapter, the individual who has figured thus far as Cyrus Sutton, interested in the cattle business, was in reality James Carter, the well-known detective of the metropolis.
When he received word from Archie Jackson of the robbery that had been committed near Tottenville, he went out at once to the little town to investigate. Mr. Carter was a shrewd man, who understood his business, and he took the precaution to go in such a disguise that the fussy little constable never once suspected his identity. The detective wished to find out whether it would do to trust the officer, and he was quick to see that if Jackson was taken into his confidence, he would be likely to spoil everything, from his inability to keep a secret.
So the real detective went to work in his own fashion, following up the clews with care, and allowing Jackson to disport himself as seemed best.
He was not slow to fix his suspicions on the right parties, and he then devoted himself to winning the confidence of Bud Heyland. It would have been an easy matter to fasten the guilt on this bad boy, but thekeen-witted officer was quick to perceive that he had struck another and more important trail, which could not be followed to a successful conclusion without the full confidence of young Heyland.
He learned that Bud was being used as a tool by other parties, who were circulating counterfeit money, and Jacob Kincade was one of the leaders, with the other two who composed the company in New York. The detectives in that city were put to work and captured the knaves almost at the same time that Bud and Kincade were taken.
It required a little time for Mr. Carter to satisfy himself beyond all mistake that the two named were the ones who were engaged in the dangerous pursuit of "shoving" spurious money, and he resolved that when he moved he would have the proof established beyond a shadow of doubt.
He easily drew the most important facts from Bud, and thus it will be seen the recovery of the stolen silverware became secondary to the detection of the dealers in counterfeit money.
The officer was annoyed by the failure of Kincade to appear on the night he agreed, and was fearful lest he suspected something and would keep out of the way. He could have taken him at the time Fred Sheldon was paid his reward, for he knew the showman at that time had a lot of bad money in his possession, though he paid good bills to Fred, who, it will be remembered, placed them in the hands of Squire Jones.
Bud was determined to exchange bad currency forthis, and waylaid Fred for that purpose, but failed, for the reason already given. He, however, gave Fred twenty dollars to change, which it will also be remembered fell into the hands of the detective a few minutes later, and was one of the several links in the chain of evidence that was forged about the unsuspecting youth and his employer.
Then Bud, like many beginners in actual transgression, became careless, and worked off a great deal of the counterfeit money in the village where he was staying, among the lot being the one hundred dollars which he paid the liveryman for wrecking his wagon.
When Fred Sheldon came into the village to claim his reward for securing the estray lion, Cyrus Sutton, as he was known, who was sitting on the hotel porch, became interested in him. He scrutinized him sharply, but avoided asking him any questions. It was natural, however, that he should feel some curiosity, and he learned that what he suspected was true; the boy was the child of Mary Sheldon, who was the widow of George Sheldon, killed some years before on the battle-field.
George Sheldon and James Carter had been comrades from the beginning of the war until the former fell while fighting for his country. The two had "drank from the same canteen," and were as closely bound together as if brothers. Carter held the head of Sheldon when he lay dying, and sent the last message to his wife, who had also been a schoolmate of Carter's.
An aptitude which the latter showed in tracing crime and wrong-doers led him into the detective business, andhe lost sight of the widow of his old friend and their baby boy, until drawn to Tottenville in the pursuit of his profession.
He reproached himself that he did not discover the truth sooner, but when he found that Mrs. Sheldon was absent he could only wait until she returned, and as we have shown, he took the first occasion to call upon her and renew the acquaintance of former years.
But the moment Carter identified the brave little fellow who had earned his reward for capturing the wild beast he made up his mind to do a generous thing for him and his mother; he was determined that if it could possibly be brought about Fred should receive the five hundred dollars reward offered for the recovery of the silver plate stolen from the Misses Perkinpine.
Circumstances already had done a good deal to help him in his laudable purpose, for, as we have shown, Fred had witnessed the robbery, and, in fact, had been brought in contact with both of the guilty parties.
Mr. Carter was afraid to take Fred into his entire confidence, on account of his tender years; and though he was an unusually bright and courageous lad, the detective was reluctant to bring him into any more intimate association with crime than was necessary from the service he intended to do him.
As he was too prudent to trust the constable, Archie Jackson, it will be seen that he worked entirely alone until the night that Mrs. Sheldon returned home.
Then he called upon her and told her his whole plans, for he knew that Fred inherited a good deal of hisbravery from her, and though it was contrary to his rule to make a confidant of any one, he did not hesitate to tell her all.
She was deeply grateful for the kindness he contemplated, though she was not assured that it was for the best to involve Fred as was proposed.
The detective, however, succeeded in overcoming her scruples, and they agreed upon the plan of action.
The boy was encouraged to make his hunt in the wood, for Carter had already learned from Bud Heyland that the plunder was hidden somewhere in it, and he had agreed to assist in bringing it forth, though Bud would not agree to show him precisely where it was, until the time should come for taking it away.
When Fred found the hiding place he was so overjoyed that for awhile he did not know what to do; finally he concluded, as a matter of safety, to remove and hide it somewhere else.
Accordingly he tugged and lifted the heavy pieces out one by one, and then carried them all some distance, placed them on the ground at the foot of a large beech tree and covered them up as best he could with leaves.
This took him until nearly noon, when he ran home to tell his mother what he had done. Within the next hour James Carter knew it and he laughed with satisfaction.
"It was the wisest thing that could have been done."
"Why so?" asked the widow.
"Don't you see he has already earned the reward, and, what is more, he shall have it, too. He has recoveredthe plate without the slightest assistance from any one."
"But the thieves have not been caught."
"That is my work; I will attend to that."
"And what shall Fred do?"
"Keep him home to-night, give him a good supper and put him to bed early, and tell him it will be all right in the morning."
Mrs. Sheldon did not feel exactly clear that it was "all right," but the good-hearted Carter had a way of carrying his point, and he would not listen to any argument from her.
So she performed her part of the programme in spirit and letter, and when Fred Sheldon closed his eyes in slumber that Saturday evening it was in the belief that everything would come out as his mother promised, even though he believed that one of the guiltiest of the criminals was the man known as Cyrus Sutton.
Mrs. Sheldon wanted to tell the little fellow the whole story that night, but the detective would not consent until the "case was closed."
When Archie Jackson was called upon late in the afternoon by James Carter and informed how matters stood, he was dumfounded for several minutes. It seemed like doubting his own senses, to believe that the cattle drover was no other than the famous New York detective, but he was convinced at last, and entered with great ardor into the scheme for the capture of the criminals.
Mr. Carter impressed upon the constable the fact thatthe offered reward had already been earned by Master Fred Sheldon. Archie was disposed to demur, but finally, with some show of grace, he gave in and said he would be pleased to extend his congratulations to the young gentleman.
A little judicious flattery on the part of the detective convinced Archie that a point had been reached in the proceedings, where his services were indispensable, and that, if the two law breakers were to be captured, it must be through the help of the brave Tottenville constable, who would receive liberal compensation for his assistance.
Accordingly, Archie was stationed near the spot where it was certain Bud Heyland and Jacob Kincade would appear, later in the evening.
At a preconcerted signal, he sprang from his concealment, and the reader has learned that he performed his part in really creditable style.
Now since the reader knows how it happened that Archie Jackson and he who had masqueraded under the name of Cyrus Sutton chanced to be at this particular spot in the woods when the thieves would have removed their booty, and also why the silver could not be found by these worthies, it is necessary to return to the place where the arrest was made.
Bud Heyland did not take kindly to the idea of being a prisoner. None knew better than himself the proofs which could be brought against him, and, after the first surprise passed away, his only thought was of how he might escape.
While the valiant Archie stood over him in an attitude of triumph, the detective was holding a short but very concise conversation with the second captive.
"I'll make you smart for this," Bud heard Kincade say. "Things have come to a pretty pass when a man who is invited by a friend to stop on the road a minute in order to look for a whip that was lost while we were hunting for the lion, gets treated in this manner by a couple of drunken fools."
Taking his cue from the speech, Bud added in an injured tone:
"That's a fact. I was on my way to join the show; but thought it might be possible to find the whip, for it belongs to Colonel Bandman, an' he kicked because I left it."
"After the plans we have laid, Heyland, do you think it is well to try such a story on me," Carter asked sternly.
"I don't know what you're talkin' about. Jake has told how we happened to come here."
"He didn't explain why you wanted Fred Sheldon to change a twenty-dollar bill for you, nor how it happened that you had an hundred dollars to pay for the wagon which was smashed."
"I've got nothing to do with any counterfeit money that has been passed, and I defy you to prove it," Kincade cried, energetically.
"Who said anything about counterfeits?" the detective asked, sternly. "It will be well for you to keep your mouth shut, unless you want to get deeper in the mire than you are already. It so chances, however, that I have ample proof of your connection with the robbery, aside from what Bud may have let drop, and, in addition, will show how long you have been engaged in the business of passing worthless money, so there is no need of any further talk. Will you walk to the road, or shall we be forced to carry you?"
This question was asked because Bud had seated himself as if intending to remain for some time; but he sprung to his feet immediately, so thoroughly cowed, that he would have attempted to obey any command,however unreasonable, in the hope of finding favor in the sight of his captors.
"We've got to do what you say, for awhile, anyhow," Kincade replied, sulkily; "but somebody will suffer because of this outrage."
"I'll take the chances," Carter replied, laughingly. "Step out lively, for I intend to get some sleep to-night."
"Hold on a minute," the fussy little constable cried, as he ran to the side of the detective and whispered:
"I think we should take the silver with us. There may be more of this gang who will come after it when they find we have nabbed these two."
"I fancy it's safe," was the careless reply, "and whether it is or not, we must wait until we see Fred again, for I haven't the slightest idea where he hid it."
"But, you see——"
"Now, don't fret, my friend," the detective interrupted, determined that Fred should take the silver himself to the maiden ladies. "You have conducted the case so admirably thus far that it would be a shame to run the risk of spoiling the job by loitering here where there may be an attempt at a rescue."
This bit of flattery, coupled with the intimation that there might be a fight, caused Archie to remain silent. He was eager to be in town where he could relate his wonderful skill in trapping the thieves, as well as his fear lest there should be a hand-to-hand encounter with desperate men, and these desires caused him to make every effort to land the prisoners in jail.
He even lost sight of the reward, for the time being, through the anxiety to sing his own praises, and in his sternest tones, which were not very dreadful, by the way, he urged Bud forward.
"If you make the slightest show of trying to run away, I'll put a dozen bullets in your body," he said, and then, as he reached for his weapon to further intimidate the prisoner, he discovered, to his chagrin, that, as on a previous occasion, his revolver was at home; but in its place, put there while he labored under great excitement, was the tack-hammer, symbol of his trade as bill-poster.
The two men went toward the road very meekly, evidently concluding that submission was the best policy, and for once Carter made a mistake.
Having worked up the case to such a satisfactory conclusion, and believing these were the only two attachés of the circus in the vicinity, he allowed Archie Jackson to manage matters from this point.
The valiant constable, thinking only of the glory with which he would cover himself as soon as he was at the hotel amid a throng of his acquaintances, simply paid attention to the fact that the prisoners were marching properly in front of him, heeding not the rumble of distant wheels on the road beyond.
Kincade heard them, however, and he whispered softly to Bud:
"There's just a chance that some of our people are coming. I heard Colonel Bandman say he should send Albers and Towsey back to look up some harness thatwas left to be repaired, and this is about the time they ought to be here."
"Much good it will do us with that fool of a Jackson ready to shoot, the first move we make," Bud replied petulantly.
"Go on without so much talk," Archie cried fiercely, from the rear. "You can't play any games on me."
"From what I've heard, you know pretty well how a man can shoot in the dark, an' I'll take my chances of gettin' a bullet in the back rather than go to jail for ten years or so. When I give the word, run the best you know how."
Bud promised to obey; but from the tone of his voice it could be told that he had much rather shoot at a person than act as target himself, and Archie ordered the prisoners to quicken their speed.
Carter was several paces in the rear, remaining in the background in order, for the better carrying out of his own plans in regard to Fred, it should appear as if the constable was the commanding officer, and when the party arrived at the edge of the road where Bud had fastened the horse, the rumble of the approaching team could be heard very distinctly.
"Now's our time! Run for your life!" Kincade whispered, staring up the road at the same instant, and as Bud followed at full speed both shouted for help at the utmost strength of their lungs.
It was as if this daring attempt at escape deprived Archie of all power of motion. He lost several valuable seconds staring after his vanishing prisoners inspeechless surprise, and followed this officer-like proceeding by attempting to shoot the fugitives with the tack-hammer.
Carter, although not anticipating anything of the kind, had his wits about him, and, rushing past the bewildered constable, darted up the road in silence. He was well armed; but did not care to run the risk of killing one of the thieves, more especially since he felt positive of overtaking both in a short time, owing to the fact that the manacles upon their wrists would prevent them from any extraordinary speed.
Neither Bud nor Kincade ceased to call for help, and almost before Carter was well in pursuit a voice from the oncoming team could be heard saying:
"That's some of our crowd. I'm sure nobody but Jake could yell so loud."
"Itisme!" Kincade shouted. "Hold hard, for there are a couple of officers close behind!"
By the sounds which followed, Carter understood that the new-comers were turning their wagon, preparatory to carrying the arrested parties in the opposite direction, and he cried to the valiant Archie, who as yet had not collected his scattered senses sufficiently to join in the pursuit:
"Bring that team on here, and be quick about it!"
Now, to discharge a weapon would be to imperil the lives of the new actors on the scene, and this was not to be thought of for a moment. Carter strained every muscle to overtake his prisoners before they could clamber into the wagon; but in vain.
Even in the gloom he could see the dark forms of the men as they leaped into the rear of the vehicle, and in another instant the horse was off at a full gallop in the direction from which he had just come.
For the detective to go on afoot would have been folly, and once more he cried for Archie to bring the team, which had been left by the roadside when Kincade and Bud arrived.
The little constable had by this time managed to understand at least a portion of what was going on around him, and, in a very bungling fashion, was trying to unfasten the hitching-rein; but he made such a poor job of it that Carter was forced to return and do the work himself.
"Get in quickly," the detective said, sharply, as he led the horse into the road, and following Archie, the two were soon riding at a mad pace in pursuit, regardless alike of possible vehicles to be met, or the danger of being overturned.
"Why didn't you shoot 'em when you had the chance?" Archie asked, as soon as he realized the startling change in the condition of affairs.
"Because that should be done only when a man is actually in fear of his life, or believes a dangerous prisoner cannot be halted in any other way."
"But that was the only chance of stoppin' them fellers."
"I'll have them before morning," was the quiet reply, as the driver urged the horse to still greater exertions. "Those men have been traveling a longdistance, while our animal is fresh, therefore it's only a question of time; but how does it happen that you didn't shoot? I left the fellows in your charge."
"I was out putting up some bills this afternoon, and had my hammer with me, of course. When we got ready for this trip, I felt on the outside of my hip pocket, and made sure it was my revolver that formed such a bunch."
"Another time I should advise you to be certain which of your many offices you intend to represent," Carter said, quietly. "I'm not positive, however, that we haven't cause to be thankful, for somebody might have been hurt."
"There's no question about it, if I had been armed," was the reply, in a blood-thirsty tone, for Archie was rapidly recovering his alleged courage.
"And I, being in the rear, stood as good a chance of receiving the bullet as did the men."
"You have never seen me shoot," the little constable said, proudly.
"Fortunately, I never did," Carter replied, and then the conversation ceased, as they were at the forks of a road where it was necessary to come to a halt in order to learn in which direction the fugitives had gone.
This was soon ascertained, and as the detective applied the whip vigorously, he said, warningly:
"Now keep your wits about you, for we are where they will try to give us the slip, and it is more than possible Heyland and Kincade may jump out of the wagon, leaving us to follow the team, while they make good their escape."
Archie tried very hard to do as he was commanded; he stared into darkness, able now and then to distinguish the outlines of the vehicle in advance, and at the same time was forced to exert all his strength to prevent being thrown from his seat, so recklessly was Carter driving.
"We'll be upset," he finally said, in a mild tone of protest. "The road seems to be very rough, and there must be considerable danger in going at such a pace."
"No more for us than for them. I'll take a good many chances rather than go back to Tottenville and admit that we allowed two prisoners to escape after we had them ironed."
The little constable had nothing more to say. He also thought it would be awkward to explain to his particular friends how, after such a marvelous piece of detective work, the criminals had got free. This, coupled with the story of his bruised hand, would give the fun-loving inhabitants of the village an opportunity to make his life miserable with pointless jokes and alleged witticisms, therefore he shut his teeth firmly, resolved not to make any further protest even though convinced that his life was actually in danger.
During half an hour the chase continued, and for at least twenty minutes of this time the pursuers were so near the pursued that it would have been impossible for either occupant of the wagon to leap out unnoticed.
Now the foremost horse was beginning to show signs of fatigue, owing to previous travel and the unusual load. Both whip and voice was used to urge him on; but in vain, and Carter said, in a low tone to Archie:
"The chase is nearly ended! Be ready to leap out the instant we stop." Then, drawing his revolver, he cried, "There's no chance of your giving us the slip. Pull up, or I shall fire! If the prisoners are delivered to me at once there will be nothing said regarding the effort to aid them in escaping; but a delay of five minutes will result in imprisonment for the whole party."
Kincade's friends evidently recognized the folly of prolonging the struggle, and, to save themselves from possible penalties of the law, the driver shouted:
"I'll pull up. Look out that you don't run into us!"
It required no great effort to bring both the panting steeds to a stand-still, and in a twinkling Carter was standing at one side of the vehicle with his revolver in hand, while Archie, with a boldness that surprised him afterward, stationed himself directly opposite, holding the tack-hammer as if on the point of shooting the culprits.
Kincade realized that it was best to submit to the inevitable with a good grace, and he descended from the wagon, saying to the little constable as he did so:
"Don't shoot! I'll agree to go peacefully."
"Then see that you behave yourself, or I'll blow the whole top of your head off," Archie replied, in a blood-thirsty tone; but at the same time he took very good care to keep the hammer out of sight.
Bud Heyland resisted even now when those who had tried to aid were ready to give him up.
"I won't go back!" he cried, kicking vigorously as the detective attempted to pull him from the wagon."I've done nothing for which I can be arrested, and you shan't take me."
The long chase had exhausted all of Carter's patience, and he was not disposed to spend many seconds in expostulating. Seizing the kicking youth by one foot he dragged him with no gentle force to the ground, and an instant later the men in the wagon drove off, evidently preferring flight to the chances that the detective would keep his promise.
"Bundle them into the carriage, and tie their legs," Carter said to the constable, and in a very short space of time the thieves were lying in the bottom of the vehicle unable to move hand or foot.
Now that there was not the slightest possibility the culprits could escape, Archie kept vigilant watch over them. The least movement on the part of either, as Carter drove the tired horse back to the village, was the signal for him to use his hammer on any portion of their bodies which was most convenient, and this repeated punishment must have caused Bud to remember how often he had ill-treated those who were quite as unable to "strike back" as he now was.
Not until the prisoners were safely lodged in the little building which served as jail did Archie feel perfectly safe, and then all his old pompous manner returned. But for the detective he would have hurried away to tell the news, late in the night though it was, for in his own opinion at least, this night's work had shown him to be not only a true hero, but an able detective.
"It is considerably past midnight," Carter said, asthey left the jail, "and we have a great deal to do before this job is finished."
"What do you mean?"
"Are we to leave the silver and money?"
"Of course not; but you said we'd have to wait until we saw Fred."
"Exactly so; but what is to prevent our doing that now? When the property has been delivered to its rightful owners you and I can take our ease; until then we are bound to keep moving."
Archie was disappointed at not being able to establish, without loss of time, his claim to being a great man; but he had no idea of allowing anything to be done in the matter when he was not present, if it could be avoided, and he clambered into the wagon once more.
The two drove directly to the Sheldon home, and Fred was dreaming that burglars were trying to get into the house, when he suddenly became conscious that some one was pounding vigorously on the front door.
Leaping from the bed and looking out of the window he was surprised at seeing the man whom he knew as Cyrus Sutton, and at the same moment he heard his mother ask:
"What is the matter, Mr. Carter?"
"Nothing, except that we want Fred. The case is closed, and to save time we'd better get the property at once. Have you any objection to his going with me?"
"Not the slightest. I will awaken him."
"I'll be down in a minute," Fred cried, as he began to make a hurried toilet, wondering meanwhile why BudHeyland's friend should be trusted so implicitly by his mother.
As a matter of course it was necessary for Mrs. Sheldon to explain to her son who Cyrus Sutton really was and Fred was still in a maze of bewilderment when his mother admitted the detective.
"Why didn't you tell me," he cried reproachfully.
"No good could have come of it," the gentleman replied laughingly, "and, besides, I can't see how you failed to discover the secret, either when you ran away after listening behind the rock on the road-side, or when I passed so near while supposed to be hunting for you."
"Did you see me then?"
"Certainly, and but for such slight obstructions as I placed in Bud's way, he might have overtaken you."
"Where is Archie?"
"Out in the wagon waiting for you. Kincade and Bud are in the lock-up where we just left them, and now it is proposed to get the silver in order to deliver it early in the morning."
"Did mother tell you I found it?"
"She did, and I am heartily glad, since now the reward will be yours, and with it you can clear your home from debt."
Fred did not wait to ask any further questions. In a very few moments he was ready for the journey, and, with the promise to "come home as soon as the work was done," he went out to where Archie greeted him in the most effusive manner.
"We have covered ourselves with glory," the little constable cried. "This is a case which will be told throughout the country, and the fact that we arrested the culprits and recovered the property when there was absolutely no clew on which to work, is something unparalleled in the annals of detective history."
Fred was neither prepared to agree to, nor dispute this statement. The only fact which remained distinct in his mind was that the reward would be his, and if there was any glory attached he felt perfectly willing Archie should take it all.
"Get into the wagon, Fred," Carter said impatiently. "It will take us until daylight to get the stuff, and we don't want to shock the good people of Tottenville by doing too much driving after sunrise."
Fred obeyed without delay, and during the ride Archie gave him all the particulars concerning the capture of the thieves, save in regard to his own stupidity which permitted the temporary escape.
Knowing the woods in the vicinity of his home as well as Fred did, it was not difficult for him to go directly to the place where he had hidden the silver, even in the night, and half an hour later the stolen service was in the carriage.
"It is nearly daylight," Carter said, when they were driving in the direction of the village again, "and the best thing we can do will be to go to Fred's home, where he and I can keep guard over the treasure until it is a proper time to return it to its owners."
"In that case I may as well go home awhile," Archiesaid reflectively. "Doubtless my wife will be wondering what has kept me, and there is no need of three to watch the silver."
"Very well, we shall not leave there until about nine o'clock," and Carter reined in the horse as they were in front of the fussy little constable's house, for him to alight.