CHAPTER XIV.
THE DOCTOR TURNS CONSPIRATOR—THE PLOT TO ROB THE RANCHE.
The pseudo doctor had been at the ranche a week, during which he had become quite chummy with Jim Cummings and Dan Moriarity, who, finding that time hung very heavy on their hands, welcomed the jovial, story-telling doctor and spent most of their time in his company.
Swanson, who was moving his stock further west and making preparations for the spring round-up, was obliged to be in the saddle all day and sometimes late at night. Although a hard drinker, an unscrupulous rascal and an inveterate gambler, he was a good stock-raiser, and kept good care of his cattle. He employed a large force of cowboys or herders, and, acting himself as captain of the round-up, he would absent himself from home for days at a time.
One morning the Doctor, flashing a significant glance toward Scip, which said, "Take your cue and follow me," remarked in a careless tone:
"I reckon the old man must have considerable dust salted down by this time."
As the remark was a general one made to Cummings, Moriarity and Scip, the latter answered:
"Yes, sah; Mass Swanson got a pile of gold laid up for a rainy day, suah."
The Doctor continued:
"He's had more than the average run of good luck the last few years. He told me the other day that he only lost a few head all year, and was just going to ship a big lot to Chicago."
Cummings, blowing a blue column of tobacco smoke toward the rafters, said:
"It's always been a question to me where he keeps his money. There's no bank around here."
"Oh! he's a shrewd old chap, Swanson is," replied the Doctor. "He has a private bank somewhere near here probably."
"Seems to me that would be pretty risky," said Cummings. "If he keeps it planted around here what would hinder some one from finding the cache and getting off with the plunder?"
"I made that very remark to him," the Doctor answered; "and he laughed and said it would take something smarter than a cowboy or an Injun to find it, but there are others beside cowboys and Injuns that come this way," with a meaning smile. Cummings noted the smile, and glancing at Moriarity, said:
"How would you go at it, Doctor, if you were to make the attempt?"
The Doctor laughed quietly, as if he appreciated the joke, and leaning back in his chair, his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest, his feet stretched on a chair before him, he answered:
"Well, Cummings, I don't know as I would like to do it. Swanson's a good friend of mine, and—"
"Hang it all, man, who the devil asked you to do it?" replied Jim, hotly. "I was only joking; do you think I wanted you to—"
"Not at all, my dear fellow, not at all," said the Doctor, in a soothing tone. "No one supposed for a minute that you thought of such a thing, but if I was going to do a job like that I wouldn't care to do it alone. Two, certainly not more than three, more to help would be necessary. I would go at it about this way: The first thing would be to find out where Swanson kept his money. It is doubtless kept in close proximity to this place, evidently well secreted, for Swanson is not a man to let his right hand know what his left hand is doing. I think I would be apt to get him full some evening, then let him win a big pot from me in poker, and, feigning drunkenness, I would watch very keenly what he did with the money. You may depend on it, it is somewhere in this house. After I ascertained the hiding-place I would surprise the old fellow in his sleep with the aid of my confederates, and gagging him, and then binding his arms and feet, would rob his bank at my pleasure. THAT is the way I should do it."
Cummings had followed every word, nodding his approval and manifesting his interest in various ways, and, without noticing what he was saying, muttered to himself, but so loud that the Doctor overheard it, "Just the way I would do it, and I will yet."
"What makes you think Swanson keeps his wealth on the premises,
Doctor?" asked Moriarity.
"Safest and most convenient place," replied the Doctor, "He probably has had a special hole or cranny made for it, a double wall of some room, behind some picture or something like that. I recollect a chap that had a picture in his room, fastened close to the wall just like that picture there," and the Doctor pointed to the only picture in the house, a representation of the ranche painted by some wandering artist. "It was a painting of a man's face and by pressing the eye a spring was released and the whole picture swung back, showing a cavity back of it in which the old miser kept his valuables."
Scip, who was always cutting some caper, here rose to his feet, saying
"Dunno, but mebbe Massa Swanson keep he truck behind that chromiow. Heah now, I'se Massa Swanson," and Scip imitated Swanson's gait, "I'se playin' poker wid you gemmen. I'se out o' cash; Massa Cummins thar, he got a king full, and lay ovah my bob-tail flush, I say, 'Hole on thar, Massa Cummins, I'se got to unlock de combinashun of my safe.' Den I walk ovah to de picture, an' I hit a crack with my fist, so Well, I be damned!"
The rest sprang to their feet in astonishment for, illustrating his remarks, Scip had struck the center of the oil painting with his hand, and stood dumb-founded, for the picture noiselessly swung forward and disclosed a large recess in the wall in which little sacks of some sort of money were piled one on the other. Scip, who was evidently the most surprised one of the party, was, however, the first to regain his composure. Pushing the frame to its place again the sharp click of the spring lock was heard, and turning swiftly around he caught meaning glances passing between Cummings and Moriarity.
"Humph!" he said to himself, "Swanson's money is as good as gone now unless we nab these two rascals soon."
The Doctor, who had reseated himself, remarked in a tone of wonder,
"Really, this is a most remarkable coincidence, most remarkable indeed."
"Oh! shut up that mummery, Doctor," broke in Cummings roughly, as he reared his head and squared his shoulders evidently intending to make a strike, "You and your nigger knew all about this, so you may as well own up."
The Doctor, receiving a nod from Scip, leaned forward, his eyes fastened intently on Cummings and his voice sunk to a low whisper, replied:
"And you may as well own up, too. We're all in the same boat. That is just what you are here for, and if you think I am fool enough to loaf around this hole a week for nothing, it shows you don't know me. I need you two and you need Scip and myself. Come, is it a bargain?"
In answer Cummings held out his hand. The Doctor grasped it cordially and holding his left hand to Moriarity, who took it, said:
"We four, for Scip is my pal, can do it OK, We can—"
"Why not do it now," said Cummings, with energy. "Our horses are here and we can put a whole day between us and the ranche before Swanson returns."
Now this was just what Sam (the Doctor) did not want. During the week which he and Scip had been spending at the ranche, seven or eight new men had been taken in by Swanson, who, as was before said, was getting in shape for the spring round-up. Of these new men six were Pinkerton detectives, and at this particular time were several miles from the ranche herding cattle. It was necessary that these men should be notified by Scip of the plot, and be ready to spring the trap as soon as the game was in the toils. For this reason the Doctor did not want the robbery to occur before the next night at the earliest. So shaking his head decidedly, he said in an emphatic manner:
"No, it won't do; it would spoil the whole thing. All the money is in the shape of specie and tied up in bags. We have nothing in which to carry it, and would have to load it as it is on our horses. Besides, Swanson is expecting a large payment for his last shipment to-day. I know this, as he told me so, and we may make ten thousand dollars by waiting a day longer."
After some demurring, Cummings acquiesced, although with very bad grace.
"All right, have it your own way; but no later than to-morrow night."
"To-morrow night it is, then," said the Doctor; then, as if struck with some suspicion, he turned suddenly and said:
"And the Lord have mercy on your soul, Jim Cummings, if you or your mate play us false."
"No fear of that, Doctor," replied the train robber. "You'll find me true blue at any rate—you're a man after my own heart. I wish I had known you sooner."
"Why?"
"Because, last October I did a little job and was almost nabbed because one of my pals weakened."
Moriarity looked somewhat confused, but apparently not noticing it (but in reality nothing escaped the hawk eyes of the disguised detective) the Doctor said:
"Last October! By Jove, you ARE the Jim Cummings that did up the Adams Express Co. The papers were full of it. If there is any man I have wanted to meet it is you." And the Doctor with great enthusiasm grasped the express robber's hand with every expression of intense admiration beaming from his eyes.
His vanity tickled by this expression of homage, Cummings drew himself to his full height, and replied:
"Well, yes, I did that work, and if you will stick by me we can work another one just as good."
"I'm with you, and when I say 'I,' it means Scip, too, for he is a treasure."
Scip ducked his head as he said:
"We's a hull team and a dog under the waggin, but, Massa Doctor, I'se goin' out to look after the bosses," and he left the room.
Moriarity, picking up a rifle and cartridge belt, said he was going out for a canter and see what luck he could have in the way of game. This left Cummings and the Doctor alone.
Glancing out the window they saw Moriarity gallop off, and a short distance behind Scip on his horse, following.
"Where did you pick up that darkey, Doctor?" asked Cummings.
"In St. Louis, about five years ago. He is a good one, faithful and brave, and will never squeal. He is just the man to help us on this new deal."
The subject of this conversation was all this time galloping over the level prairie, following closely behind Moriarity, who, with his rifle thrown across the pommel of his saddle, was on the look out for anything in the way of game which might come along.
As they rode along they would meet one of the herders sitting at ease on his horse, or galloping madly after some refractory steer that was making a break for freedom. They had, in their ride, passed four of these men, and to every one Scip gave a signal, merely the wave of his hand in a peculiar manner, to which the men had responded likewise. They were nearing another stand, the ranchman, astride his pony, stood against the sky like a bronze bit of sculpture. As they came within speaking distance Scip, drawing in his horse, said.
"I's goin' to loaf aroun' heah a bit, Massa Dan, I'll wait fer you."
"All right," responded Dan, who gave his horse the spurs and swiftly disappeared behind the swell of land. Scip, walking his nag, drew near the cowboy.
"Hye thar, honey, got any 'bacco?"
"Plenty, blacky, plenty,"
"Den give me some."
"What is it, Chip?" asked the cowboy as Moriarity swept out of sight.
"We have work to do to-morrow night, Barney, you must get the boys together, go down the divide to the ford and cross over, ready to come when I whistle. To-morrow night we must bag our game."
"We will be there, Chip, and I am glad of it, for its devilish monotonous staying out here all day."
"There will be a break in the monotony that will suit you. Be sure to be at the other side of the ford before twelve to-morrow night."
Chip then explained to him the details of the projected robbery and the plan of capturing the outlaws as soon as they had crossed into Kansas, for the divide was the southern state line of that state.
Barney, again repeating his statement that he would be there, loped his horse after some cattle that was straying too far off, and Chip, or rather Scip, stretching himself on the ground, awaited Moriarity's return.
They arrived home in time for supper, and found Swanson had returned from Blue Jacket, where he had gone that morning, and the fact that he had made up beds for the Doctor and Scip in a side room was accepted by Cummings as proof that he had received the money he expected and wanted the room to himself that he might put his wealth behind the picture unobserved.
The next day the ranche was deserted save by the four conspirators, who made preparations for the robbery of Swanson's money which was to take place that night. The picture was tried until the proper point for touching the hidden spring was found. A supply of food was quietly secreted in a bag and hid near the divide. Some heavy flour sacks made of canvas were ripped open and suitable bags for carrying the money were made from the pieces. All these preparations were made without interruption or discovery, and excepting a long ride which Scip made in the afternoon, ostensibly for the purpose of exercising his horse but really that he might again see the detectives who were acting as cowboys, the day wore along without any incident out of the ordinary way.