CHAPTER XXIV.TREACHERY.
The coach that carried the prisoner away from the fort progressed on its way until it neared Deep Dell Brook. Then Detective Raymond called out to the driver that the prisoner was not feeling very well, and he would like to give him a seat on top of the coach.
This was allowed, and a seat was arranged behind Surgeon Powell and Horseshoe Ned. Then on the coach went once more.
Neither Horseshoe Ned nor Surgeon Powell suspected treachery from behind them. They were prepared to resist any attempt at the rescue of the prisoner, should the coach be held up on the way.
But behind the surgeon and the driver a plot was going on.
The prisoner’s irons were quietly unlocked by Detective Raymond, and he was a free man.
Then, at a given signal, the two suddenly brought a revolver down upon the head of the man immediately in the front of each.
The coach was just moving out of Deep Dell Brook at the time. The blows were stunning ones, and the one delivered by the detective upon the head of the driver was very severe, for it cut to the bone, and was given with an indifference as to whether it killed or not.
The blow received by the Surgeon Scout was less severe, perhaps because the benumbed hands of the outlaw chief were not able to strike so hard or perhaps because the man admired Frank Powell as he had said that he did.
Horseshoe Ned fell heavily from his box to the ground, and the team stopped. Surgeon Powell also reeled, clutched at his revolver, and, turning, fired.
His shot killed the pretended Detective Raymond, though he received a bullet himself in the shoulder, and dropped from the coach to the ground.
Half-stunned as he was by the blow, and wounded, too, while the fall gave him a severe shock, he was no match for the outlaw chief, and the two men who leaped from the coach upon him.
He was quickly secured, disarmed, and the manacles taken from Silk Lasso Sam were put upon him.
There were others who had appeared upon the scene during this unequal combat. They were two men whoquickly looked about for Raymond, but found him dead.
Then they turned to the chief and said that they had been ordered to that point to meet him, and had horses near.
The chief, aided by one of the pretended detectives, assisted Surgeon Powell along the bank to where the horses awaited them, the other men following soon after, with the booty taken from the coach.
Surgeon Powell appeared half-dazed from his blow, but he made no resistance, and was mounted upon one of the horses that was there.
“You must go with me, Surgeon Powell, for I do not wish to kill you, and you are too dangerous a man to leave behind,” said the chief.
Frank Powell made no reply, and, mounting, the chief, his prisoner, and four men set off down the valley.
The wound of the surgeon was looked to at the first halt made, and it was found not to be dangerous, though severe.
On they went until after noon, when the chief said:
“I wish to divide here. You have your pay, men, for the work you have done, so go your separate ways,and I will go mine, taking my prisoner with me. The odd horses we will turn loose, and that there may be seven separate trails going in as many directions, I will go on foot, and the surgeon can ride the horse I had.”
Thus the men parted on the trail, the Surgeon Scout mounted on the best horse, which was led by Silk Lasso Sam.
The outlaw chief appeared to have a direct purpose in view, and to know the country thoroughly, for he kept steadily on, the Surgeon Scout seemingly indifferent to what was going on.
Toward sunset he came to a good spot for a camp, and was just coming to a halt when a horse and rider appeared in sight. The chief started and dropped his hand upon his revolver, as though to stand at bay, when the Surgeon Scout said sternly:
“Hold! do not fire upon a woman.”
“My God, I had nearly done so, for I could hardly see her through the foliage.”
“It is your sister.”
“Yes.”
The outlaw gave a call, and the horsewoman who had not seen them up to that time came quickly toward them.
“Ruth!”
“Brother!”
The rider had thrown herself from her horse and was clasped in her brother’s arms, while she cried:
“You are free, and now you will remember your pledge to me to lead a different life.”
“I will keep my word to you, Ruth. But see, here is an old friend, and he is wounded and suffering.”
“Surgeon Powell!” cried Ruth, her face turning white, and then wheeling upon her brother she demanded sternly:
“What does this mean, sir?”
The eyes of Ruth flashed fire as she turned them upon her brother, whose face flushed under her gaze, while he said in an embarrassed manner:
“Do not be angry, Ruth, for no harm has been done, or very little at least, for the surgeon is not much hurt.”
“I wish to say to you, Surgeon Powell,” and Ruth turned toward him, “that I planned the escape of my brother from the gallows. I went to Chicago, got forged documents, and sent these men in my pay to play the detective and bring my brother away.
“I was to have horses meet them at Deep Dell Brook, and it seems that so far as his escape is concernedall went well. In consideration for his escape he had pledged me to lead a different life, to reform. Now, when I supposed that there would be no trouble in his making his escape, no bloodshed, he appears here, when I come to meet him, with you in irons and a prisoner. I ask you, Surgeon Powell, what does it mean?”
“Let your brother inform you, Miss Arden,” was the reply of Frank Powell.
“Well, sir, what explanation have you to offer for this outrage upon Surgeon Powell?”
“I wish to say, Ruth, that you are angry without a cause. Colonel Dunwoody sent Surgeon Powell along also, and there was but one way to escape, if I was to do so. The man Raymond dealt Horseshoe Ned a severe blow, and I struck the surgeon, but not to do him other harm than stun him.
“The driver, I fear, was killed, for he fell from the box, while Surgeon Powell turned, drew his revolver, and fired upon Raymond, who also drew trigger at the same time. The surgeon killed Raymond, and you see that Doctor Powell received a slight wound in the shoulder.
“There was nothing to be done then but to make Surgeon Powell a prisoner and bring him along. Idiscovered the men back in the valley, and we were upon our way to Pocket City, where I knew that you would do all in your power for the doctor.”
“Gladly I will, and it is but seven miles to Pocket City, and we will go on at once. But there should have been no bloodshed in this escape, brother, for I meant that it should be a rescue wholly by strategy. Come, Surgeon Powell, you are no prisoner, so, brother, unlock those irons.”
“And have him kill me?”
“I shall take the parole of both of you to do no harm to each other. Will you give it, Surgeon Powell?”
“As you ask it, Miss Arden, I will.”
“And you, brother?”
“I will only protect my life,” was the guarded answer of the outlaw.
“Then give me the key of these manacles.”
They were handed to her, and the irons were unlocked and thrown over the horn of the saddle.
“Now, Doctor Powell, I desire to get you to a place of safety as soon as possible, and see what can be done for you. Brother, my horse is fresh and able to carry double, so mount behind me.”
This the outlaw did, and she rode on through the gathering darkness.
Arriving in the vicinity of Hangman’s Gulch, Ruth paused and said:
“Brother, you know that it will not do for you to be seen, and I have a hiding-place for you, where you can be safe until you have an opportunity of leaving this country. You have no fear of Hangman’s Gulch, so remain here until I return for you later, for now I shall go on with Major Powell to the hotel.”
The outlaw made no reply and obeyed, and Ruth rode on with Surgeon Powell by her side.
Soon after he found himself in pleasant quarters, and his wounds were skilfully dressed by the fair hands of the good Samaritan who once more appeared in her character of Bonnie Belle.
When Ruth had seen Surgeon Powell in comfortable quarters at the Frying Pan, she mounted her horse and rode alone out of Pocket City.
There were few miners abroad at that hour, and if any one saw her at all they supposed in the darkness that she was a man.
Even had they known it to be Bonnie Belle she would have gone unquestioned as to the cause of herlate ride, no matter how much any one would have wondered as to the reason.
She rode directly toward Hangman’s Gulch, and that was a sure sign that she would meet no one on that trail, which the bravest of the miners would not travel by night.
And yet there in that weird spot, among the graves of a score of victims of border justice or injustice, as the case might be, with the gallows rising above him, stood a man then under sentence of death to die by hanging; a man who could count his victims by the score, a man revengeful, merciless, and wicked far beyond his kind.
It was Arden Leigh, known on the frontier as Silk Lasso Sam, and if the spot had haunting memories for him he did not reveal the fact by word or deed.
He uttered an impatient oath now and then, as time passed and he did not hear his sister returning, and at last, losing his patience as time stole on, he was moving down toward the mouth of the gulch, when his ears caught the clatter of hoof-falls.
“She is coming,” he muttered.
Then, as he darted back into the shadow, he drew a revolver and said:
“But I must not be too sure.”
Soon a horse and rider appeared in the gulch, and, drawing rein, the soft, plaintive notes of the whippoorwill was heard.
“How that call carries me back to the past, for it was my call for Ruth,” and the man seemed to feel for an instant a pang of memory and remorse that overwhelmed him. Then as the call was repeated again and again he stepped out from the shadow and approached the girl where she sat upon her horse.
“Ah! brother, I am so glad to find you, for I was becoming anxious,” she said, as she slipped from her saddle to the ground.
“I was so taken aback at the old whippoorwill call, Ruth, that I could neither answer it nor speak. I was overwhelmed for a moment.”
“It was your call for me, when I was a little girl, Arden.”
“Yes, and that is what impressed me so.”
“Then you can feel, and you are not, as people have said, utterly heartless and callous?”
“I hope I am a changed man, my sister. But what am I to do?”
“You are to return with me to Pocket City, for I have a place in my wing of the hotel where I can hide and care for you for a few days, as it would by nomeans be safe for you to attempt now to go through the country alone.”
“And why not now?”
“Because you know that your attack on Surgeon Powell will cause the wildest excitement at the fort. Of course, it will be known that you escaped, and Colonel Dunwoody will have half his force on your track, for Surgeon Powell will be supposed to have been killed, and that will make those who search for him most revengeful.”
“That is so, sister.”
“I am sorry that this was not an escape without violence, and, as I fear, the death of the driver.”
“How could it be without violence or death with the Surgeon Scout along, Ruth, for you know it would have been easier to have mastered a guard of half a dozen men than Powell, unless by a blow when he did not expect it. He is an extraordinary man.”
“Yes, he is, and I am glad it is no worse. But now here are some things for you to put on, and you are to come with me to Pocket City. I will ride on ahead and enter my wing of the hotel, and when you hear the whippoorwill cry do you then come directly to my gate in the stockade wall.”
“I understand.”
“I will have your room ready, and will bring you your food myself, while I am arranging for your departure.”
“You are most kind to me, Ruth. But then you always have been.”
“I wish to be, and I hope to help you to lead a different life, my brother.”
“You alone can do it, Ruth,” was the low response, and then, as though he dreaded trouble yet for himself, he said:
“What you say about Powell alarms me, and if it is found out that you are my sister, then your house will be searched, Ruth.”
“Let them search it, for they will never find you in the place where I can hide you, Arden.”
“All right, I am in your hands, my sister,” and, having slipped on the clothes she had brought him, he followed her on to the edge of Pocket City.
For half an hour he waited there in the shadow of the timber, and then came the cry of the night bird, when he walked briskly toward the stockade.
The gate was opened, and, unseen by any one, he entered and had reached a haven of refuge.