Chapter VIII.
AN UNEXPECTED COMPLICATION.
Protected by the heavy canvas from the impertinent stares of the patrons of the medicinal waters, the three outlaws looked at one another and then at the package presented to them in silence.
"Jess, you sure are a corker," exclaimed Clell in undisguised admiration. "Whatever put it into your head to charge Dillaby with being a thief?"
Smiling at the tribute to his cleverness, the great outlaw replied:
"I wanted to find out whether he was acting in conjunction with the Roziers or whether he had traced us here in some way and merely chanced to hit upon the banker's son when he sought to learn where our camp was."
"Well, you found out all right, all right," commented Cole.
"I certainly did," chuckled his leader.
"I'd give a good deal to hear what Dillaby says when he reports to the old man. They'll go almost nutty in trying to decide if we are on to the fact that his friends the capitalists are really detectives."
"And while they're puzzling over it, why wouldn't it be the wisest move for us to vamoose?" inquired Clell.
"Did you ever know me to run away under fire?" retorted his leader, answering one question with another.
"That's all right, but there's such a thing as going too far. 'Three times and out,' you know. You may have got the best of them twice, but will you come off so well the third time?"
"You forget that we have one great advantage; we know exactly who they are while they are all up in the air as to our identities.
"I'm going to fight old Rozier to the last ditch!"
But within three short hours Jesse was destined bitterly to repent his decision and to regret that he had not followed his chum's advice.
No premonition did they have of the storm that was about to break around their heads, however, and, flushed with their success in the two encounters they had had with their enemies, the bandits prepared for a master stroke.
Springing to his feet as an idea flashed into his mind, the great outlaw seized the package and opened it.
Picking up one of the bottles, he turned it round and round in his hand, gazing intently at the cork.
"Ha! Look here," he exclaimed, all of a sudden.
As his pals examined the bottle, he went on, excitedly:
"I've got old Rozier where I want him! This cork has been drawn out and put back! You can see beside the wires, there, where it's been cut."
"You mean the stuff's been doped?" asked Clell and Cole, almost in the same breath as they inspected the spot their leader indicated on the stopper and realized its significance.
"You're on. A—ah! I thought so. Taste of it and then tell me what you think."
During the brief interval following the discovery that the bottle had been tampered with, the bandit-chieftain had hurriedly pulled off the wires, yanked out the cork and raised the snout to his lips.
"It's sure got a peculiar flavour," declared the eldest of the Younger brothers as he passed the bottle to his companion. "Tastes bitter."
As soon as the wine had touched Clell's tongue, he confirmed their suspicions.
"I was knocked out once with 'peter' drops and I'd know the taste of the poison any time. You can stake your bottom dollar that there's a liberal dose of chloral in that bottle."
"That's all I want to know," chuckled Jesse. "Old money bags, you've got yourself into a mess that'll make you open your purse-strings before you see the end of it.
"Cole, go up to the square and get a lawyer. I'm going to have Rozier arrested if there's anything in the law against trying to drug a person."
Too amazed at the purpose of their chief to speak, the outlaws glanced at one another and then at him, their lips puckered as though they would whistle.
"It's nothing to get so stirred up about," continued the famous desperado, noting the effect his words produced. "If it is a crime, I'll swear out the warrant. We'll turn these bottles over to the police through the lawyer and while the Springs are convulsed with the arrest of the banker, we'll slip out unnoticed. There's evidence enough in these bottles to convict him without our presence and, from the crowd who heard Dillaby say he sent the stuff, witnesses can be found who will establish the connection between the 'fly mug,' the wine and both young and old Rozier."
Elated at the prospect, the eldest of the Younger brothers picked up his hat and hurried from the tent to summon a member of the legal profession.
But he never reached his destination!
As he wound in and out among the side streets, the whistle of the noonday train rang loud and shrill. Slowing up that he might not run into the crowd of arrivals, he so timed his gait that he reached the intersecting road just as the last of them seemed to have passed.
At the corner of the two streets, on the side on which he was walking, a hedge obstructed his view, however. Yet as he had seen no one cross the road, he deemed it safe for him to increase his pace.
Scarce three feet away from the sidewalk up which he intended to turn was he, when suddenly a black-garbed young woman, struggling along with a heavy satchel, appeared from behind the hedge.
Hearing the sound of footsteps so close to her, she turned her head toward them to see who was coming.
As Cole beheld the rosy-cheeked face he with difficulty suppressed an exclamation.
He knew the girl!
Recovering quickly from his surprise he bowed, saying at the same time:
"Let me carry your bag for you?" And he extended his hand to take it.
But no sooner did she hear the voice, than the young woman shot a quick glance across the street, then hastened her steps without heeding the offer.
Unable to fathom such treatment, the outlaw looked in the same direction the black gowned girl had.
Scrutinizing him with undisguised interest were two men. Yet though they watched him closely, they never paused and continued up the opposite sidewalk from that occupied by the young woman, keeping a couple of yards behind her.
Cole's first impulse was to turn on his heel and run to the tent to bear the startling news to his chief. But he resisted it, entering the street from the station which he followed till he came to the next block, dividing his attention between the girl and the men.
Twice the latter looked over their shoulders as the bandit trailed them.
"Those are detectives or I don't know one," mused the eldest of the Younger brothers. "I guess the lawyer business can wait."
Never had a block seemed so long to the outlaw, who was impatient to announce to his pals the unexpected complication that confronted them, as did the one between where he had met the young woman and the next.
But at last he turned into the side street and without a glance in the direction of the persons whose appearance had so upset him, Cole continued his leisurely gait till he felt that he was beyond their sight, then quickly lengthened his stride.
Approaching the tent, he noticed, with a feeling of relief, that the horses they had purchased had been delivered.
"Thank goodness they're here," he muttered, then as he arrived at the flap cried in a low voice, "let me in, quick!"
Realizing from the excitement in the tone that something untoward had happened, Jesse hurriedly admitted his chum.
"What is it?" he demanded, noticing the worried look in the latter's eyes.
Thrusting his head from the flap to be certain that no eavesdroppers were about, Cole withdrew it hastily, exclaiming:
"Sue's come!"
"Susie, my sister, in Monegaw Springs?" gasped the great outlaw in amazement.
"Sure's you're standing in front of me. And that isn't the worst. Two man-hunters are shadowing her!"
In blank dismay, the bandit-chieftain looked from one to another of his chums, then snapped:
"Tell us about it, man."
With no unnecessary words, Cole complied.
"This knocks my plans galley west," commented the famous desperado at the conclusion of the story of the meeting.
"I wonder what on earth brought Sue down here. She evidently knows she's being trailed from the way she refused to answer you and looked across at the detectives.
"Blast the luck, anyhow. If she'd only kept away till tomorrow, or even tonight, we'd have had old Rozier in the toils. But now we've got to chuck the whole business and light out. We can only strike him through his bank.
"It won't be long before Dillaby and his men run into these other man-hunters and when they do, it won't take even them long to come to the conclusion that we're the men they want.
"For concocting theories, you can't beat a detective. It's when they try to reconcile them with facts that they get balled up. But in this case, they won't have much trouble.
"Saddle up while I gather our duds together."
This sudden change of front in their leader recalled to his pals his recent observation about running away under fire, but they knew him too well to taunt him with it. His bravery and recklessness needed no proof; they had witnessed both too many times and they realized fully the desperateness of their situation.
With the rapidity that characterized all the movements of the notorious band when once they were in action, the horses were made ready and as Clell and Cole led them to the tent, Jesse emerged with their saddle bags which were hurriedly adjusted.
Fortunately for the bandits, their neighbors were engaged in eating their dinners and no inquisitive eyes spied on their departure.
"Into the woods!" commanded the world-famous desperado as his chums mounted.
Thanking their leader's foresight for pitching their tent on the edge of the grove, they obeyed and soon were out of sight of the camp ground.
"Whereaway?" asked the eldest of the Younger brothers as Jesse now and then changed the direction of their course, indicating that he had a definite objective point in view.
"To see Sue, of course, and find out why she came here."
"But Cole didn't follow her. How do you know where to look?" asked Clell.
"We've only got one family who are 'true blue' here, the Priors," returned his leader, "and I'm going to see them. If she isn't there or they can't locate her, I shan't try.
"I didn't want to go near 'em while we were at the Springs: 'What people don't know won't hurt 'em.' But Sue's coming makes a difference."
And it didn't take long for the outlaws to learn that the arrival of the sister of the notorious Jesse did, indeed, make a vast difference!
When the altercation between Dillaby and the supposed miner had reached the point where the latter sent for the constables, the rest of the Pinkertons, who had been trailing behind their superintendent, scurried in all directions, some to reach the chief of police in time to make themselves known and get him to countermand the order, others to report the failure, with its unforeseen result, to the banker.
Upon young Rozier's intercession, however, the former dropped the idea of calling on the head of the police department though they continued to the heart of the village.
As they were walking about, looking at the people and the stores, one of them suddenly espied the two men trailing Susie.
"There's Jones and Higgins," he gasped in surprise. "What are they doing here?"
No satisfactory answer occurring to any of them, they decided to speak to their fellow sleuths.
The surprise of Jones and Higgins as they were accosted was no less than that of the others had been at seeing them.
Questions flew thick and fast.
The man-hunters who had been summoned by the bank president gave a hurried resumé of their case.
"Where are these fellows?" asked Higgins, when the story was finished.
"In their tent, I suppose. Why?"
"Because I want to look at them. We're down here trailing Susie James. She probably expects to meet her brothers here and from what you tell me, these miners may be our birds."
"You don't mean you think they're Jesse and some of his men?" gasped one of the "capitalists."
"I sure do. It's worth trying anyhow. You all round up Dillaby and the others and when we've tracked Susie to where she's going, we'll come back and meet you here in the square. Mum's the word."
And the two latest arrivals of the celebrated Pinkerton force hastened after the girl whom they had watched, as she continued up the street, while talking to their fellows.
Jones and Higgins were two of the detectives assigned to keep the Samuel's homestead, in Kearney, under constant vigil, following the inmates on their travels, which were few and far between, whenever it seemed advisable.
Knowing these facts, the others acquiesced in their leadership and, excited at the thought that the much wanted desperado might be the mysterious Mr. Howard who had made them so ridiculous, they hurried to acquaint Dillaby and Mr. Rozier with the startling development.
As the suggestion was made that the miner was no other than Jesse James, the banker grew deathly pale.
"You can't mean it!" he murmured.
"But we do," returned one of the detectives. "Won't it be great if he is?" continued the fellow, enthusiastically.
"No it won't," snapped Mr. Rozier. "Oh! why did I ever get you down here, anyway? I'll give you a hundred dollars apiece to drop the matter and go back to Kansas City on the next train!"
Amazed at the sudden change in the man who had employed them, the detectives gazed at one another in bewilderment.
"We can't do that," returned Dillaby, at last. "If your men should turn out to be the bandits, the chief'll be so tickled he won't charge you a cent. We'll let you know how things come out."
"But I engaged you. If I order you to go back, why shouldn't you go?" fumed the banker.
"Because if the miners and the outlaws are one and the same, Jones and Higgins will need help in landing them and the men on the trail of Jesse James can press all the other Pinkertons into service they want.
"I don't see, sir, however, why, when you were so keen to prove the strangers frauds, you developed such an aversion to the idea when the trail may lead to the desperadoes?"
"You don't, eh?" returned Mr. Rozier. "Well, if you were the president of a bank you would! Here I've been insulting and hounding Jesse James, if it is really he. Oh! What a fool I've been. He'll get even with me some way!"
"There's no need of getting so unnerved, sir," rejoined Dillaby. "If he prove the man we want, his capture will remove all danger from you."
"If you could catch him, yes. But you haven't done it yet—and you won't either. A man who can make a monkey of you the way this 'Howard' did, won't be caught easily. He knows you are detectives. If he's Jesse, I'll wager he isn't in his tent now!
"Forman," the president of the savings institution exclaimed, as he looked at his watch, "you've got just time to catch the train north. Don't stop to get a bag. I want you to go to Ste. Genevieve at once and warn Harris to send out our funds to Kansas City on the first train, keeping only ten thousand dollars on hand.
"Jesse James, if he and 'Howard' are one, may raid my bank!"