CHAPTER VIIISTACY TAKES A HAND“Wow! I’ll show you that you can’t steal my beans and my fish!” yelled an angry voice behind Miss Briggs. The outlaw was pulling himself together and unsteadily getting to his feet just as Elfreda sprang to hers. Then there sounded a sudden whack, a grunt, and the bandit again measured his length on the ground, after receiving another blow on the head.“Stacy! Stacy Brown!” cried Elfreda, for it was Stacy who had stolen up behind the bandit and clouted the outlaw on the head with a stick just after the fellow had fired his last shot.Ere the man had fully recovered from this last whack, Chunky had sprung forward and snatched up the bandit’s weapon.“Now you get out of this before I get mad. I’m only out of patience now, but when I’m mad I’m a dangerous man. Get!”With his own revolver trained on him, the bandit evidently considered prudence the wise course. He had not yet fully recovered from Stacy’s last wallop, and staggered as he ran to his horse. As he swung into his saddle, a shot from somewhere brought a grunt from the fellow, and the Overlander saw the bandit shudder.“Don’t shoot! He’s hit,” warned Elfreda.“I didn’t shoot this time. It was someone else,” flung back the boy. “You move, and you move fast. And next time you steal a fellow’s beans and fish, you pick out some fellow who’ll stand for it!”The outlaw rode away at a brisk gallop, swaying a little in his saddle, still considerably dazed from Stacy’s two wallops, and in pain from the bullet that had hit him.“Stacy! Oh, Stacy!” cried Elfreda, running to the boy and throwing both arms about him. “You wonderful boy! I never thought you had such courage.”“Courage? I’m a hero! I always was. All I needed was the opportunity to show that I am. I ought to have a medal.”“You shall have one. Do—do you think he will come back?” she asked with an apprehensive glance in the direction taken by the outlaw.“Come back? Why, I should say he wouldn’t. That fellow is scared stiff. You couldn’t drag him back here.”“There are others, Stacy. You don’t know all. They were all here, and after they went away he came back and—”“Others?” Stacy’s face went solemn. “If that’s the case, I reckon we’d better run while the running is good.”“I can’t, not yet. I must talk with you. There is something to be done before we leave. But you were so brave, and all the time you were hiding behind the bushes, letting that desperate fellow shoot at you without your firing a shot fearing that you might hit me. It was wonderful! What did you mean when you accused the man of stealing your fish—had you seen him before?”“Of course I had seen him. He tried to interfere with me while I was fishing for a mess of trout for you yesterday afternoon. I did get a mess of them, beauties, too,” declared Stacy boastfully. “I finally got tired; the bait gave out, so I ate part of a can of beans and lay down for a nap. Well, I didn’t wake up, I guess, until this morning. The fish were gone, and so were the rest of the beans. I tell you I was good and angry. When I got here you were having your misunderstanding with the ruffian.”“And you really were in those bushes shooting at him?”“I was in the bushes all right.”“But who fired that last shot that hit him?” demanded Miss Briggs suddenly, regarding her companion narrowly.“The—the sec—That’s so. I wonder who did. He was some shooter. But listen! I know. It must have been one of that fiend’s friends shooting at me. He didn’t hit the fellow he fired at. Isn’t that a good joke on the fellow in the bushes, and on the one that got hit!” cried the fat boy, his assurance returning. “Tell me what has happened here.” Stacy was stalking back and forth twirling the outlaw’s weapon on his finger.“Come with me to the shack and I will tell you. Tragedy, not comedy, has come to this place. I would have given anything could you have been here to help me, for, Stacy, I needed help as I never in my life needed it before. Listen, for we must lose no time in doing what we have to do, and then get away from this unhappy spot.”They were in the cabin by this time.“A man came here last night, wounded and faint. I tried to help him, but he was beyond help. Stacy, the poor fellow died. Those ruffians had shot him. I do not think the man who shot him was the one who made a shield of me, but it was one of the same gang.”“Di—died!” gasped Stacy.“Yes, in a few minutes after he got here. I have his horse hidden some little distance from here.”“Whe—whe—where is he?”“There!” she announced gently, pointing to the bunk. “We can’t leave him there, Stacy. There is something to be done, and I just can’t bring myself to do it.”Stacy, his eyes large and round, backed hurriedly from the shack.“Come on out. I can’t talk in there any more,” he urged, and Elfreda joined him at once. “Let me think. I can’t do it, either. I can fight a bad man, or wild animals, but this—this I—I can’t. Why did they shoot him?”“They said he was a horse thief, but I know better. He possessed information that they wanted. This fellow that you sent away found the man’s saddle, though I don’t know how he chanced to discover it. The horse he may have discovered also, but I hardly think so. If not, we can take the animal and try to find our way back to Silver Creek.”“Yes. Let’s find the horse. We can send Ham White back to do what you said. Where is the horse?”“We will go look for him, but we must proceed with caution,” said Elfreda. “Take your revolver and I will take mine. You fall in behind. I will lead because I know the way.”Stacy did not appear to relish the mission at all, but he relished still less being left alone at the cabin, so he followed along obediently. Elfreda proceeded with great caution, watching the ground and the surrounding forest.“Keep perfectly quiet,” she warned, as they neared the spot where the horse had been secreted. “Stay where you are,” added Elfreda in a whisper, then crept forward.“This is spooky,” muttered the fat boy. “I don’t like what I can’t see.”“Stacy!” There was alarm in Elfreda’s voice. “Come here!”He did not move as rapidly as he might, but a few moments later was standing at her side, and Stacy blinked as his gaze followed the direction in which she pointed.A handsome bay mare lay dead in the secluded spot. It was the horse that Sam Petersen had left in her charge.“Shot! The brutes!” cried Elfreda. “They have shot her. Well, perhaps that is better. Mr. Petersen asked me to dispose of the animal or hide her. What a pity!”“I call it a good riddance. Say, Elfreda, you don’t suppose any of that gang are hanging around here, do you?” questioned Stacy apprehensively.“Gracious! I hope not. Come, let us get away from this place.”Stacy was quite ready to move, and took the lead, Elfreda following. They lost no time in getting back to the cabin, but, as they approached, Stacy again began to lag.“Aren’t we going down to the river and try to find our way back to our party?” he asked as his companion started to enter the cottage.“Not yet. I have something to do in here first,” she made reply. “Oh!” Elfreda sprang back.“Wha—wha—what!”“There’s someone in there,” she whispered.“Oh, wow!” Stacy jumped and started off.Elfreda looked her disgust, and, summoning her courage, stepped into the cabin.“Who is it?” she demanded.“I was waiting to see how steady your nerves are,” answered a voice that brought a thrill to her. A man rose and stepped towards her.“Mr. White! Stacy, come in, it’s all right,” she called, a happier note in her voice. “I am so glad to see you, for I need you.” Elfreda shook hands with the guide. “How long have you been here?”“I came in just a moment ago. My horse is down near the river, where I picked up your trail and came up here. What has been going on here? I believe there was some shooting up this way. So it sounded to me.”“The Murrays have been here, and, had it not been for Stacy, I fear something serious might have happened to me. Stacy really saved me, even going so far as to let one of the outlaws shoot at him. Would you think, from what you have seen of him, that Stacy is brave enough to fight a duel with one of that gang?”Ham White looked solemn and shook his head.“Our party is very much worried about you, Miss Briggs—”“Oh, are they all right?” cried the Overland girl, flushing at thought of her forgetfulness.“Every one of them, but we must get back to them as soon as possible. Tell me the story.”Elfreda then related the whole story of her experiences, passing briefly over her trip down the creek and the river, and relating the story of the arrival of Sam Petersen and his death, omitting the incident of the diary, as well as the story of the lost mine and the bag of nuggets and dust.“Died here? Where is—”“There!” answered the girl in a low voice, pointing to the bunk. “You and Stacy will please do what is necessary. I could do it if I had to, but so long as you are here it is better not.”“What did the ruffian who came back here look like?”Miss Briggs described the man in detail.“That was Two-gun Murray, one of the most notorious gun-fighters on the range. He has more brains than his brother, Hawk Murray, and some personal charm, but he is a cold-blooded ruffian. Is he the fellow you saw down by the river, that Miss Briggs has told me about?” questioned White, turning to Stacy.“Yes. And he is the fellow who stole my fish and ate my beans,” complained the boy.“I wonder what that crowd was after Sam Petersen for?” reflected the guide, regarding the two Overlanders from beneath half-closed eyelids.“He had something that they wanted—information or something of the sort,” murmured Miss Briggs. Elfreda was not yet ready to confide in the guide. She wished for time to think over carefully what Petersen had told her, and to examine his diary critically.“I don’t quite get it, but I will,” he replied.Ham White got up briskly.“Come, Stacy. Let us do our duty.”“Just a moment,” begged Elfreda. “I wish to do something here first. Will you two please step outside?”The guide gave her a quick look, and his face hardened ever so little. He bowed and walked from the cabin. The instant he was out of sight, Miss Briggs got the bag of gold and secreted it in her blouse.“Mr. White, I am going out in the forest to think, while you are busy here,” she added, stepping from the cabin. Elfreda’s face was flushed. Hamilton White regarded her narrowly but merely nodded in reply to her announcement. That nod was cold, and Miss Briggs realized it. Her head was held a little higher as she walked away, though she knew that self-imagined guilt was at the back of her annoyance.Ham White knew that there was some purpose in the Overland girl’s remaining in the cabin for a few moments; perhaps he came nearer to knowing her purpose than Elfreda imagined.The girl sat down under a tree and thought. The bag of gold in her blouse troubled her. Elfreda took it out and emptied the contents in her lap. Apparently a small fortune lay there, but, as she gathered up a handful of the contents of the bag, Elfreda Briggs made a terrible discovery.
“Wow! I’ll show you that you can’t steal my beans and my fish!” yelled an angry voice behind Miss Briggs. The outlaw was pulling himself together and unsteadily getting to his feet just as Elfreda sprang to hers. Then there sounded a sudden whack, a grunt, and the bandit again measured his length on the ground, after receiving another blow on the head.
“Stacy! Stacy Brown!” cried Elfreda, for it was Stacy who had stolen up behind the bandit and clouted the outlaw on the head with a stick just after the fellow had fired his last shot.
Ere the man had fully recovered from this last whack, Chunky had sprung forward and snatched up the bandit’s weapon.
“Now you get out of this before I get mad. I’m only out of patience now, but when I’m mad I’m a dangerous man. Get!”
With his own revolver trained on him, the bandit evidently considered prudence the wise course. He had not yet fully recovered from Stacy’s last wallop, and staggered as he ran to his horse. As he swung into his saddle, a shot from somewhere brought a grunt from the fellow, and the Overlander saw the bandit shudder.
“Don’t shoot! He’s hit,” warned Elfreda.
“I didn’t shoot this time. It was someone else,” flung back the boy. “You move, and you move fast. And next time you steal a fellow’s beans and fish, you pick out some fellow who’ll stand for it!”
The outlaw rode away at a brisk gallop, swaying a little in his saddle, still considerably dazed from Stacy’s two wallops, and in pain from the bullet that had hit him.
“Stacy! Oh, Stacy!” cried Elfreda, running to the boy and throwing both arms about him. “You wonderful boy! I never thought you had such courage.”
“Courage? I’m a hero! I always was. All I needed was the opportunity to show that I am. I ought to have a medal.”
“You shall have one. Do—do you think he will come back?” she asked with an apprehensive glance in the direction taken by the outlaw.
“Come back? Why, I should say he wouldn’t. That fellow is scared stiff. You couldn’t drag him back here.”
“There are others, Stacy. You don’t know all. They were all here, and after they went away he came back and—”
“Others?” Stacy’s face went solemn. “If that’s the case, I reckon we’d better run while the running is good.”
“I can’t, not yet. I must talk with you. There is something to be done before we leave. But you were so brave, and all the time you were hiding behind the bushes, letting that desperate fellow shoot at you without your firing a shot fearing that you might hit me. It was wonderful! What did you mean when you accused the man of stealing your fish—had you seen him before?”
“Of course I had seen him. He tried to interfere with me while I was fishing for a mess of trout for you yesterday afternoon. I did get a mess of them, beauties, too,” declared Stacy boastfully. “I finally got tired; the bait gave out, so I ate part of a can of beans and lay down for a nap. Well, I didn’t wake up, I guess, until this morning. The fish were gone, and so were the rest of the beans. I tell you I was good and angry. When I got here you were having your misunderstanding with the ruffian.”
“And you really were in those bushes shooting at him?”
“I was in the bushes all right.”
“But who fired that last shot that hit him?” demanded Miss Briggs suddenly, regarding her companion narrowly.
“The—the sec—That’s so. I wonder who did. He was some shooter. But listen! I know. It must have been one of that fiend’s friends shooting at me. He didn’t hit the fellow he fired at. Isn’t that a good joke on the fellow in the bushes, and on the one that got hit!” cried the fat boy, his assurance returning. “Tell me what has happened here.” Stacy was stalking back and forth twirling the outlaw’s weapon on his finger.
“Come with me to the shack and I will tell you. Tragedy, not comedy, has come to this place. I would have given anything could you have been here to help me, for, Stacy, I needed help as I never in my life needed it before. Listen, for we must lose no time in doing what we have to do, and then get away from this unhappy spot.”
They were in the cabin by this time.
“A man came here last night, wounded and faint. I tried to help him, but he was beyond help. Stacy, the poor fellow died. Those ruffians had shot him. I do not think the man who shot him was the one who made a shield of me, but it was one of the same gang.”
“Di—died!” gasped Stacy.
“Yes, in a few minutes after he got here. I have his horse hidden some little distance from here.”
“Whe—whe—where is he?”
“There!” she announced gently, pointing to the bunk. “We can’t leave him there, Stacy. There is something to be done, and I just can’t bring myself to do it.”
Stacy, his eyes large and round, backed hurriedly from the shack.
“Come on out. I can’t talk in there any more,” he urged, and Elfreda joined him at once. “Let me think. I can’t do it, either. I can fight a bad man, or wild animals, but this—this I—I can’t. Why did they shoot him?”
“They said he was a horse thief, but I know better. He possessed information that they wanted. This fellow that you sent away found the man’s saddle, though I don’t know how he chanced to discover it. The horse he may have discovered also, but I hardly think so. If not, we can take the animal and try to find our way back to Silver Creek.”
“Yes. Let’s find the horse. We can send Ham White back to do what you said. Where is the horse?”
“We will go look for him, but we must proceed with caution,” said Elfreda. “Take your revolver and I will take mine. You fall in behind. I will lead because I know the way.”
Stacy did not appear to relish the mission at all, but he relished still less being left alone at the cabin, so he followed along obediently. Elfreda proceeded with great caution, watching the ground and the surrounding forest.
“Keep perfectly quiet,” she warned, as they neared the spot where the horse had been secreted. “Stay where you are,” added Elfreda in a whisper, then crept forward.
“This is spooky,” muttered the fat boy. “I don’t like what I can’t see.”
“Stacy!” There was alarm in Elfreda’s voice. “Come here!”
He did not move as rapidly as he might, but a few moments later was standing at her side, and Stacy blinked as his gaze followed the direction in which she pointed.
A handsome bay mare lay dead in the secluded spot. It was the horse that Sam Petersen had left in her charge.
“Shot! The brutes!” cried Elfreda. “They have shot her. Well, perhaps that is better. Mr. Petersen asked me to dispose of the animal or hide her. What a pity!”
“I call it a good riddance. Say, Elfreda, you don’t suppose any of that gang are hanging around here, do you?” questioned Stacy apprehensively.
“Gracious! I hope not. Come, let us get away from this place.”
Stacy was quite ready to move, and took the lead, Elfreda following. They lost no time in getting back to the cabin, but, as they approached, Stacy again began to lag.
“Aren’t we going down to the river and try to find our way back to our party?” he asked as his companion started to enter the cottage.
“Not yet. I have something to do in here first,” she made reply. “Oh!” Elfreda sprang back.
“Wha—wha—what!”
“There’s someone in there,” she whispered.
“Oh, wow!” Stacy jumped and started off.
Elfreda looked her disgust, and, summoning her courage, stepped into the cabin.
“Who is it?” she demanded.
“I was waiting to see how steady your nerves are,” answered a voice that brought a thrill to her. A man rose and stepped towards her.
“Mr. White! Stacy, come in, it’s all right,” she called, a happier note in her voice. “I am so glad to see you, for I need you.” Elfreda shook hands with the guide. “How long have you been here?”
“I came in just a moment ago. My horse is down near the river, where I picked up your trail and came up here. What has been going on here? I believe there was some shooting up this way. So it sounded to me.”
“The Murrays have been here, and, had it not been for Stacy, I fear something serious might have happened to me. Stacy really saved me, even going so far as to let one of the outlaws shoot at him. Would you think, from what you have seen of him, that Stacy is brave enough to fight a duel with one of that gang?”
Ham White looked solemn and shook his head.
“Our party is very much worried about you, Miss Briggs—”
“Oh, are they all right?” cried the Overland girl, flushing at thought of her forgetfulness.
“Every one of them, but we must get back to them as soon as possible. Tell me the story.”
Elfreda then related the whole story of her experiences, passing briefly over her trip down the creek and the river, and relating the story of the arrival of Sam Petersen and his death, omitting the incident of the diary, as well as the story of the lost mine and the bag of nuggets and dust.
“Died here? Where is—”
“There!” answered the girl in a low voice, pointing to the bunk. “You and Stacy will please do what is necessary. I could do it if I had to, but so long as you are here it is better not.”
“What did the ruffian who came back here look like?”
Miss Briggs described the man in detail.
“That was Two-gun Murray, one of the most notorious gun-fighters on the range. He has more brains than his brother, Hawk Murray, and some personal charm, but he is a cold-blooded ruffian. Is he the fellow you saw down by the river, that Miss Briggs has told me about?” questioned White, turning to Stacy.
“Yes. And he is the fellow who stole my fish and ate my beans,” complained the boy.
“I wonder what that crowd was after Sam Petersen for?” reflected the guide, regarding the two Overlanders from beneath half-closed eyelids.
“He had something that they wanted—information or something of the sort,” murmured Miss Briggs. Elfreda was not yet ready to confide in the guide. She wished for time to think over carefully what Petersen had told her, and to examine his diary critically.
“I don’t quite get it, but I will,” he replied.
Ham White got up briskly.
“Come, Stacy. Let us do our duty.”
“Just a moment,” begged Elfreda. “I wish to do something here first. Will you two please step outside?”
The guide gave her a quick look, and his face hardened ever so little. He bowed and walked from the cabin. The instant he was out of sight, Miss Briggs got the bag of gold and secreted it in her blouse.
“Mr. White, I am going out in the forest to think, while you are busy here,” she added, stepping from the cabin. Elfreda’s face was flushed. Hamilton White regarded her narrowly but merely nodded in reply to her announcement. That nod was cold, and Miss Briggs realized it. Her head was held a little higher as she walked away, though she knew that self-imagined guilt was at the back of her annoyance.
Ham White knew that there was some purpose in the Overland girl’s remaining in the cabin for a few moments; perhaps he came nearer to knowing her purpose than Elfreda imagined.
The girl sat down under a tree and thought. The bag of gold in her blouse troubled her. Elfreda took it out and emptied the contents in her lap. Apparently a small fortune lay there, but, as she gathered up a handful of the contents of the bag, Elfreda Briggs made a terrible discovery.