CHAPTER XVI
If ever two men were taken aback they were Sag Ruff and Soapy Gannon. They had not expected to be followed so quickly and both were much disconcerted.
"Don't shoot me!" yelled Soapy Gannon, who, as intimated before, was a coward at heart.
"What do you want of me?" growled Sag Ruff, and his hand stole toward his pistol pocket.
"Up with your hands!" cried Bob, as he too raised his shotgun. "If there is any shooting to be done here, we'll do it," he added, with grim determination.
"Don't you shoot," answered Ruff, and his hand left the pocket and came up in the air, followed by the other. Soapy Gannon already had both hands elevated.
"What do you mean by stealing our outfit in this fashion?" demanded Mark, after an awkward pause.
"Who said we were stealing it?" asked Sag Ruff in return.
"We have eyes."
"We found this outfit on the trail and didn't know who it belonged to."
"That's it," added Soapy Gannon, quickly. "Not a soul was in sight around it."
"Do you expect us to believe that story?" burst out Bob, sarcastically. "If you do, you are mistaken."
"I might believe it from an honest man, but not such a rascal as you," added Mark. "Sag Ruff, you are a scoundrel of the first water!"
"What have you done to Si Williams and Maybe Dixon?" asked the former sailor lad.
"Don't know anything about them," growled Sag Ruff. His eyes shifted uneasily from one boy to the other. "See here, how long do you want us to keep our hands raised?" he went on.
"You'll keep them up for the present," answered Mark.
"If you don't something is going to go off," added Bob.
"You think you are a pretty smart boy, don't you?" sneered the gambler, turning to Mark.
"I believe in standing up for myself."
"What are you going to do with me?"
"That remains to be seen. I want you to tell us where our two friends are."
"If you don't, we'll make you prisoners and let the other emigrants know what you've been up to," put in Bob.
"We didn't steal the outfit," insisted Sag Ruff. "We found it on the trail, just as I said before."
"Where was Si Williams? We left him in charge."
"Didn't see a soul around the wagon or mule," put in Soapy Gannon.
There was another pause. To tell the truth, neither of the boys knew exactly what to do. To keep the gambler and his tool at bay was one thing; to make them close prisoners was quite another. In a tussle the rascals might get the better of the contest. Both Bob and Mark preferred to keep them at a distance.
"Turn around there," said Mark, at last, after whispering to his chum.
"What do you want of us now?" asked Ruff.
"I want you to march back the way you came, and keep up your hands."
"And if we won't do it?"
"There will be trouble, and you'll get the worst of it," answered Bob, and aimed his shotgun squarely at the gambler's head.
Muttering imprecations under his breath, Sag Ruff turned around and Soapy Gannon did the same. Then Bob lowered his gun for the moment and took the reins of the mule. Darling and the wagon were turned around and faced in the direction from whence they had come.
"Now march!" cried Mark, who still had his shotgun leveled. "And no monkey work remember, or you'll get what you won't like."
The outfit was started up, and slowly they proceeded through the timber. The trail now led from the river and they passed some rough rocks.
"Here is where we get away!" cried Sag Ruff, in a low voice. "Break for it, Soapy—it's our only chance!"
He leaped for the rocks, and seeing this his tool did the same. As they passed out of sight Mark's shotgun went off, but the boy did not have the heart to shoot straight at them and the shot merely cut through the tree branches overhead.
"There they go!"
"Come back here!" roared Bob, dropping the reins and taking up his weapon.
"If you fire again, I'll fire!" answered Sag Ruff, and the next instant a bullet whistled so close to Mark's head that he dodged and fell up against the side of the mule. Then Bob fired, but the shot merely grazed the gambler's arm and Soapy Gannon's shoulder.
"Hullo there!" came suddenly from a distance, and a moment later Si and Maybe Dixon burst into view, running at their best speed.
"Hullo yourself!" shouted Mark. "You've come in the nick of time."
"Didn't we see Sag Ruff and another man here?" questioned Si.
"You did."
"Where are they now?"
"Run away."
"Are you shot?"
"No, but I think we had a narrow escape," answered Mark.
They listened and heard Sag Ruff and Soapy Gannon talking at a distance. Soon they heard a splash, as the two men plunged into the river, and then all became silent.
"They have run for it," said Bob. "And I must say I am glad of it." He was pale from excitement.
"It was all my fault," said Si, as soon as the crowd had calmed down a little. "I went to sleep when I had no business to," and then he told his story.
"We can be thankful we got the outfit back so quickly," said Maybe Dixon. "Had they gotten away for thirty or forty miles maybe we'd never have seen this mule an' wagon ag'in."
"After this we must be on our guard," said Mark.
"I know something to do," put in Bob. "Tie a small string to the wagon and run it to where we are sleeping. In the dark a thief won't see the string, and if he tries to pull away the wagon the string will pull somebody and wake him up." This, later on, was done, and worked very well.
As soon as the excitement was over, the whole party pushed along near to the spot where Bob and Mark had left their game. Then the deer and the prairie hens were placed in the wagon and they went back to the camp at the ford.
"I am hungry enough to eat anything!" declared Bob. "A bit of venison will taste prime."
The deer was skinned and cut up, and soon they had some fine steaks broiling over a blaze Si started. They took their time over the meal, and while eating discussed the situation from every possible point of view.
"We really ought to bring Sag Ruff and his accomplice to justice," said Mark. "But I hate to lose time trying to do it."
"We can't afford to lose no time—if we are going to git over the Rocky Mountains afore cold weather sets in," said Maybe Dixon. "We want to hustle right along."
"Just what I've been thinking," said Si. "I'd hate most awfully to get caught in the mountains in freezing weather. Why, we'd be frozen stiff!"
"And maybe we'd lose our way," went on Maybe Dixon.
"All right then, let us hustle," answered Bob.
The hustling began the very next day, and continued uninterruptedly for over a week. They made excellent progress and were soon in the very heart of the mountains. It was cold and clear, and they saw some signs of snow, but it did not come.
The Sockets were traveling with them again. The boys had given them some of the venison and two prairie hens and in return Mrs. Socket made them some fresh bread and, on Sunday, a splendid loaf cake. She also cooked them a pot of good soup, which Si declared tasted more like "hum" than ever. The oldest Socket girl, named Mary, darned their stockings and also mended their underwear, which was a "real lift," as Maybe Dixon expressed it.
"I ain't no good with a thread an' needle an' never was," said the pioneer. "It takes me about an hour to git the thread in the needle, an' I never kin find the holes in a button when I want for to sew it on."
So far Darling had done exceedingly well and the boys agreed that a real prize had been gained by Bob in purchasing the animal. But when they were almost in the very heart of the Rockies the plucky little mule went lame, why nobody could exactly tell.
"He's got a rock sore, that's wot," said Josiah Socket. "Comes from walkin' on the rocks. He ought to be turned out into pasture fer a spell, then he'd be all right."
"How you talk, Josiah Socket!" burst out his spouse. "Turn him out to pasture indeed! As if the pasturing was a-layin' around loose in these mountains an' the boys didn't have nuthin' else to do but to watch him while he got well. Can't you do something, so as they can go ahead with the critter somehow?"
"Couldn't we bind it up in soft cloth?" suggested Mark.
"Might try it," said Josiah Socket, and in the end a soft shoe, made of an old sponge and a bit of blanket, was tied on the lame foot, which was first greased thoroughly. This did some good, and poor Darling hobbled along in fairly good shape but at a reduced rate of speed.
Two days later the boys reached the end of the wagon trail on that particular route. The remains of wagons lay on all sides, showing that it had been necessary to abandon them.
"You might get through with your wagon," said one gold hunter, who had been across the mountains twice. "But it is more trouble than it is worth. Better make packs of yer outfit and cross on foot."
"Well, we won't lose much by leaving the wagon," said Bob. "It's about used up anyway." What he said was true. The rough traveling had caused the turnout to break down more than once and they had spent many hours in making it fit to use. A few more heavy jolts would cause it to fall to pieces.