A DASTARDLY ATTACK
The tourists’ train was scheduled to leave Denver at eleven-thirty that night, so that there was ample time after the game for a leisurely meal and a few hours for recreation for any of the party that felt so inclined.
Some went to the theater, others played cards, while others sat about the lobby of the leading hotel and discussed the exciting events of the afternoon’s game.
As for Joe and Jim, their recreation took the form of long letters to two charming young ladies whose address, by coincidence, happened to be Riverside. Both seemed to have much to write about, for it was nearly ten o’clock before the bulky letters were ready for mailing.
“Give them to me and I’ll take them down to the hotel lobby and mail them,” said Jim, as they rose from the writing table.
“I don’t know,” replied Joe, as he looked at his watch. “Perhaps the last collection for the 104 outgoing eastbound mail has already been made. What do you say to going down to the post-office itself and dropping them in there? Then they’ll be sure to go.”
“All right,” Jim acquiesced. “It’s a dandy night anyway for a walk and I’d like to stretch my legs a little. Come along.”
They went out into the brilliantly lighted streets, which at that hour were still full of people, and turned toward the post-office which was about half a mile distant.
As they were passing a corner, Jim suddenly clutched Joe’s arm.
“Did you see that fellow who went into that saloon just now?” he asked, indicating a rather pretentious café.
“No,” said Joe, dryly. “But it isn’t such an unusual thing that I’d pay a nickel to see it.”
“Quit your fooling,” said Jim. “If that fellow wasn’t Bugs Hartley, then my eyes are going back on me.”
“You’re dreaming,” Joe retorted. “What in the world would Bugs be doing in Denver?”
“Panhandling, maybe,” returned Jim. “Drinking, certainly. But it isn’t what he’s doing that interests me. It’s the fact that he’s here.”
“Let’s take a look,” suggested Joe, impressed by his friend’s earnestness.
They went up to the swinging door, pushed it 105 open and looked in. There were perhaps a dozen men in the place, but Hartley was not among them.
“Barking up the wrong tree, Jim,” chaffed Joe.
“Maybe,” agreed Jim a little perplexed, “but if it wasn’t Bugs it was his double.”
They reached the post-office and after mailing their letters turned back towards the hotel.
“It’s taken us a little longer than I thought,” remarked Jim, looking at his watch. “We won’t have any more than time to get our traps together and get down to the train.”
“This looks like a short cut,” said Joe, indicating a side street which though rather dark and deserted cut into the main thoroughfare, as they could see by the bright lights at the further end. “We’ll save something by going this way.”
They had gone perhaps a couple of blocks when they reached a part of the street which had no dwelling houses on it. On one side was a factory, dark and forbidding, and on the side where the young men were walking was a high board fence enclosing a coal yard.
“Wait a minute, Jim,” said Joe. “It feels as though my shoe lace had come untied.”
He stooped down to fasten the lace, and just as he did so, a jagged piece of rock came whizzing past where his head had been a second before and crashed against the fence. 106
Joe straightened up with a jerk.
“Who threw that?” he exclaimed.
Jim’s face was white at the peril his friend had so narrowly escaped.
“Somebody who knew how to throw,” he cried, “and I can make a guess at who it was. There he is now!” he shouted, as he caught sight of a dim figure slinking away in the darkness on the further side of the factory.
They darted across the street in pursuit, but when they turned the corner there was no one to be seen. Several alleys branched off from the street, up any one of which the fugitive might have made his escape. Although they tried them one after the other they could find no trace of the rascal.
Baffled and chagrined, they made their way back to the scene of the attack. Joe picked up the piece of rock and weighed it in his hand.
“About half a pound,” he judged. “And look at those rough edges! It would have been all up with me, if it had landed.”
“Do you notice that that’s about the weight of a baseball?” asked Jim significantly. “And it went for your head as straight as a bullet. It would have caught you square if you hadn’t stooped just as you did. You can thank your lucky stars that your shoelace came untied. That fellow knew just how to throw, as I said before.” 107
“You don’t mean,” replied Joe, “that Bugs——”
“Just that,” affirmed Jim grimly. “Now maybe you’ll believe me when I say that I saw him to-night. That skunk thought that I had seen him, and slipped into the saloon to get out of sight. Probably he went out through a rear door and has been following us ever since.”
“But why——” began Joe.
“Why?” repeated Jim. “Why does a crazy man do crazy things? Just because he is crazy. He doesn’t have to have a reason. If he thinks you’ve injured him he’s just as bitter as though you really had. Hughson’s tip was a good one, Joe. The fellow’s deadly dangerous. It’s only luck that he isn’t a murderer this minute.”
“It’s good for him I didn’t lay my hands on him,” replied Joe. “I wouldn’t have hit him, because I don’t think he’s responsible for what he does. But I’d have had him put where he couldn’t do any more mischief for a while.”
“It gives me the creeps to think of what a close call that was,” said Jim, as they walked along.
“Don’t say anything about it to the boys,” cautioned Joe. “The thing would get out, and before we knew it the folks at home would have heard of it. And they wouldn’t have an easy minute for all the rest of the trip.”
They made quick time to the hotel, and as 108 most of their luggage had remained on the train, they had only to gather a few things together in a small hand bag and start out for the station.
Their special train had been standing on a side track a few hundred yards east of the main platform. They were picking their way toward it across a network of tracks, when, just as they rounded the corner of a freight car, they came face to face with Hartley.
They almost dropped their handbags at the unexpectedness of the meeting. But if they were startled, Bugs was frightened and turned on his heel to run. In an instant Joe had him by the collar in a grip of iron, while Jim stood on the alert to stop him should he break away.
“Let me go!” cried Hartley in stifled tones, for Joe’s grip was almost choking him.
“Not until you tell me why you tried to murder me to-night,” said Joe, grimly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” snarled Bugs, trying to wrench himself loose from Joe’s hold on his collar.
“You know well enough,” replied his captor. “Own up.”
“You might as well, Bugs,” put in Jim. “We’ve got the goods on you.”
“You fellows are crazy,” replied Bugs. “I’ve never laid eyes on you since I saw you in Chicago. And you can’t prove that I did either.” 109
“You’re the only enemy I have in the world,” declared Joe. “And the man who threw that rock at me to-night was a practiced thrower. Besides, you’re all in a sweat—that’s from running away when we chased you.”
“Swell proof that is,” sneered Hartley. “Tell that to a judge and see what good it will do you.”
The point was well taken, and Joe and Jim knew in their hearts that they had no legal proof, although they were morally certain Bugs was guilty. Besides, they had no time to have him arrested, for their train was scheduled to start in ten minutes.
“Now listen, Bugs,” said Joe, at the same time shaking him so that his teeth rattled. “I know perfectly well that you’re lying, and I’m giving you warning for the last time. You’ve had it in for me from the time you doped my coffee and nearly put me out of the game altogether. Ever since that you’ve bothered me, and to-night you’ve tried to kill me. I tell you straight, I’ve had enough of it. If I didn’t think that your brain was twisted, I’d thrash you now within an inch of your life. But I’m telling you now, and you let it sink in, that the next time you try to do me, I’m going to put you where the dogs won’t bite you.”
He dug his knuckles into Bugs’ neck and gave 110 him a fling that sent him several yards away. The fellow kept his feet with an effort, and then with a muttered threat slunk away into the darkness.
They watched him for a minute, and then picked up their handbags and started toward the train.
“Hope that’s the last we see of him,” remarked Joe.
“So do I,” Jim replied. “But we felt that way before and he’s turned up just the same. I won’t feel easy till I know that he’s behind the bars.”
“He’s usually in front of the bars,” joked Joe. “But I’m glad anyway that we had a chance to throw a scare into him. He knows now that we’ll be on our guard and perhaps even he will have sense enough to let us alone.”
Jim consulted his watch.
“Great Scott!” he ejaculated.
“What’s the matter, Jim?”
“We haven’t any time to spare if we want to catch that train.”
“All right, let’s run for it.”
As best they could, they began sprinting in the direction of the railroad station, but their handbags were somewhat heavy, and this impeded their progress. Then, turning a corner, they suddenly found themselves confronted by a long sewer trench, lit up here and there by red lanterns. 111
“We’ve got to get over that trench somehow!” cried Joe.
“Can you jump it?” questioned Jim anxiously.
“I’m going to try,” returned the crack pitcher.
He threw his handbag to the other side of the sewer trench, and then, backing up a few steps, ran forward and took the leap in good shape. His chum followed him, but Jim might have slipped back into the sewer trench had not Joe been watching, and grabbed him by one hand.
“Gosh, that was a close shave!” panted Jim, when he felt himself safe.
“Don’t waste time thinking about it. We have still a couple of blocks to go,” Joe returned, and set off once more on the run, with Jim at his heels.
Soon they rounded another corner, and came in sight of the railroad station. There stood their train, and the conductor was signaling to start.
“Wait! Wait!” yelled Joe. But in the general confusion around the railroad station nobody seemed to notice him.
“We’ve got to make that train—we’ve just got to!” cried Joe, and dashed forward faster than ever, with Jim beside him.
They scrambled up the steps just as a warning whistle sounded; and a few moments later the train drew out on its climb over the Rockies.