CHAPTER V.BEATING A RETREAT.
Down into the defile there came a perfect swarm of armed men.
Rough looking wretches they were, all greasers and armed to the teeth.
It needed but a glance for any in the party to realize who and what they were.
“All aboard!” yelled Bill Guernsey, the stage driver. “Run fer yer lives, lads. There’s no show fer us agin that pack of imps.” There was no doubt of this.
Costello’s gang, for such they were, fairly swarmed in the defile.
There seemed a legion of them, and the numbers were too great for the party of miners.
Frank saw this at a glance and he turned the Steam Man about.
Barney and Pomp were instantly at the loopholes and giving the wretches a shower of bullets.
The party on the coach were firing, and a small sized battle was in progress.
But all clambered aboard the coach, and just in time Bill Guernsey cracked his long whip and sent his eight horses flying down the pass.
The Steam Man was far ahead making rapid time.
But Costello was determined not to be cheated so easily of his prey.
His murderous gang came thundering in pursuit. The greasers rode like fiends and kept up a constant fire.
Down through the pass went the Steam Man.
After it came the stage-coach, and the passengers were yelling and firing with full force.
A short while later the Steam Man shot out upon the mesas.
The coach came after and across the plain the race went.
Of course the fleet ponies of the greasers could out-foot the stage horses.
The greasers came swarming up around the stage and it was possible that they would have annihilated the mining party but for an intervention.
Frank Reade, Jr., saw the danger and at once made action to prevent it.
He turned the Steam Man making a wide circle.
Then he started out to strike the foe on the flank.
The Man rushed with full force for the party of outlaws.
They did not swerve, and the next moment the Man was among them. The wheels of the wagon overturned horses, split the party up and raised havoc.
Men were trampled beneath the Man’s iron feet. Horses were sent riderless over the plain and confusion ensued.
The Steam Man followed up his advantage closely.
Right and left the outlaws were scattered. Several times Barney drew a bead on a leader of the gang whom he fancied to be Costello, but each time missed.
The man seemed to bear a charmed life. The Celt was disgusted.
“Bejabers, I think I’ll have to learn how to shoot,” he muttered, disconsolately. “It’s three times shure that I thried it an’ each toime missed me mark.”
The stage-coach meanwhile under Bill Guernsey’s able guidance had gained a tremendous lead.
It seemed, indeed, well out of the race.
The greasers were completely scattered. The Steam Man went flying about the prairie picking them off by twos and threes.
Every shot fired from the cage was deadly.
In face of such a withering fire the greasers could not stand their ground.
They broke in wild confusion for the cover of the hills.
In the open the Steam Man was too much for them.
It could have whipped an army on a plain of good size, for it could easily keep out of the way while a most deadly fire was kept up.
In short, the Steam Man put to rout the entire party of greasers.
They fled in the wildest confusion to the cover of the hills.
But the Steam Man was all the while pounding at their heels.
In a very short time the plain was cleared.
The stage-coach was a speck upon the horizon line.
It was on its way to Saint’s Repose, which Frank reckoned was a small mining town, of which there were many in the Rocky Mountains.
It was now a question as to what it was best to do.
Darkness was coming on and it would be necessary to find a camp somewhere.
Frank had thought of keeping on to Saint’s Repose with the stage.
There he believed it would not be difficult to pick up a respectable force of men with which to attack the greasers in the hills.
Of course the Steam Man could whip them in the open.
But the greasers could stick to the hills and no efforts would serve to dislodge them.
It required no little thought and consideration upon Frank’s part to decide what to do.
“Bejabers, av it was me,” declared Barney, sententiously, “I’d jist go an up there mesilf alone and lave the naygur aboard the Steam Man.”
“Golly! it am jes’ as easy fo’ yo’ to stay dar as fo’ me,” spluttered Pomp. “You’se a no count I’ishman, anyway.”
“Don’t yez say that to me, naygur, or I’ll spile the face av yez,“retorted Barney, with mock earnestness.
“Huh! jes’ yo’ try it, I’ish. Yo’ll hab yo’ han’s full in jes’ a minnit.”
“Begorra, I will thry it.”
“Jes’ cum right along.”
Barney began to roll up his sleeves.
It was likely that the two rascals would have indulged in a friendly rough-and-tumble but for Frank.
“Come, this won’t do,” he said, sharply. “If you want to have any skylarking, you must wait for a better time.”
Pomp made a grimace to Barney behind Frank’s back, and Barney shook his fist at the darky.
This ended the discussion.
Frank decided not to go to Saint’s Repose.
It would have been a long run of fifty miles, and the result would have been extremely doubtful.
“My mission is to rescue Harvey Montaine,” he decided, finally. “I don’t care to wage war upon the greasers or anybody else for any other purpose.”
So Frank remained out on the plain until nightfall.
Then he ran the Steam Man to the shores of a small lake and here, in a secluded spot, camp was made.
No fires were lit, as it was not deemed best to risk attracting the attention of the enemy.
The fires in the Steam Man were banked, and Pomp was elected to watch the first half of the night.
Then Barney and Frank laid down and went to sleep.
At midnight Barney was awakened and found Pomp ready to turn in.
The Irishman had been on watch an hour when his attention was attracted by a singular manifestation.
He could see the distant hill-tops against the sky.
Suddenly upon the tiptop of one of these a red light was seen to be burning.
It was fiery red and seemed to oscillate in an odd manner.
“That is very quare!” muttered the Celt. “I wondher phwat it is?”
The light remained in sight for several minutes describing various movements.
At times it described a circle, then moved up and down and again waved back and forth.
After the light disappeared Barney was pondering over the mystery when another light appeared upon a hill more to the eastward.
This described movements exactly like the other.
Then Barney’s quick wit fathomed the secret.
“Bejabers, it’s tilegraphin’ back an’ forth they are,” he declared. “Och hone, now I wisht I cud rade whativer they be sayin’.”
The Celt watched the lights with varying emotions.
After a time they disappeared altogether. Nothing more worthy of note occurred that night.
The next morning Barney related to Frank the details of the affair.
“Indeed!” exclaimed the young inventor. “That is an important cue. No doubt the hills upon which you saw the lights are near the den of Costello.”
“Well, sor, I kin point thim out to yez,” declared Barney.
This was done, and a note of their position made.
With the coming of another day Frank decided to make a cautious attempt to enter the hills with the Steam Man.
Accordingly, steam was got up and the Man was sent along at a rapid gait toward the southern spur of the range.
It required an hour to cross the plain at this point, it being quite a long ways.
But finally the Steam Man reached this part of the range, and fortunately it was found that the mountain side here was clear and the Man could scale it.
Frank started the Man up the incline, picking his way carefully.
Thus far nothing could be seen of the greasers.
If they were cognizant of the nearness of the Steam Man they did not show it.
What their game was Frank was not prepared to say, but he kept a sharp lookout, fearing treachery.
After climbing the mountain side for some time, the Man reached a spur, beyond which a good view of the interior country could be had.
Here Frank called a halt for a brief time.
With a glass he began to study the country beyond. In a few moments he gave an exclamation.
“I believe I have discovered the den of the greasers,” he declared.
“Shure, yez don’t mane it?” cried Barney.
“Yes, I do. Take the glass, Barney, and tell me what that object is against that part of an extinct crater over there. Would you not call it a building?”
Barney took the glass and studied the object.
None had keener or clearer vision than the Celt, and he said presently:
“Ye’re roight, Misther Frank. It’s a buildin’, an’ shure it’s made av stone an’ a roof of fir boughs. Shure there’s a wide clearing about it, and on three sides at least there is a steep descint, bejabers, which no man livin’ cud iver cloimb.”
“I thought so,” declared Frank, with gratification; “that will do, Barney.”
The Irishman handed Frank the glass. The young inventor was just about to view the distant buildings again when a startled yell came from Pomp.
“Massy sabe us!” cried the terrified darky. “We’se all goin’ to kingdom come dis berry minute. Look out fo’ dat big stun, Marse Frank—look out, everybody!”
Frank at that moment saw with horror what had caused Pomp’s cry.