Chapter XI.
CLELL IS WOUNDED.
Made overconfident in the success of their "getaway" because of the lack of opposition they had encountered in their dash for liberty, the outlaws had neglected to hide behind the bodies of their ponies when they galloped from the yard, as they would have had they been expecting a fusilade of bullets, and the wounding of Clell was the result.
Whirling in his saddle as he heard the report of the rifle, the world-famous desperado looked to see who had fired it.
Resting across the top of a fence at the house below, he beheld the blue barrel of the Winchester and, bent down to sight it, the head of a man.
One glance was enough to tell the bandit-chieftain who it was who had balked their clear escape.
"It's old Rozier!" snorted Jesse, ripping out a terrible oath. "That settles him! If I never live to do another thing, I'll raid his bank! It will hurt the old cuss more to lose his money than it would if I should kill his son or run off with his daughter!"
And in the fury of his rage, the great outlaw shook his unoccupied hand defiantly at the banker.
So carried away had Jesse been with wrath at the discovery of the identity of the man behind the gun that he seemed oblivious to the fact that man-hunters and citizens of the Springs alike, yelling with excitement and anger at the escape, were swarming from the doors and windows of the farmhouse and around the side of the building, attracted by the bark of the rifle.
A dozen pistols were popping but the distance between their firers and the horsemen was too great for the bullets to have effect and Jesse laughed at their abortive attempts to hit him, his contempt enraging them the more.
But Cole was watching the banker. Suddenly he saw him shift the muzzle of the Winchester till it pointed full at his chief.
"Duck, Jess, duck!" cried his chum.
Mechanically the famous desperado obeyed. And not a moment too soon!
Not a foot above the seat of the saddle where the bandit-chieftain had sat an instant before sped the death-bearing slug of lead, burying itself behind the ear of the horse on which Clell reeled, dropping the animal to the ground.
An exultant cheer rose from the crowd as the horse fell.
"Charge 'em! Rush 'em!" shouted excited men. "They haven't any guns! We can beat 'em down!"
To the townsfolk who had always thought of the terrible James gang as shooting and howling fiends, the abstinence of the three men from returning the shots sent at them suggested but one thing, that the desperadoes were unarmed. Even Higgins, Dillaby and their men were unable to understand the silence of the trio's guns.
But Jesse had not drawn his weapons for the best of reasons—the crowd of would-be capturers was out of range of his "Colts."
With the loss of Clell's horse, he suddenly awoke to the extreme danger of his position.
"Keep your eye on Rozier," he snapped to Cole, even as he spoke, leaning from his saddle and dragging his wounded pal from the prostrate beast.
"Here come some more men with Winchesters," gasped the eldest of the Younger brothers as he descried several coatless and hatless farmers line up at the fence beside the banker and rest the muzzles of their rifles on the railing.
"Get on the other side of me, so your body'll be covered by your horse, grab mine by the bits and ride. I can't guide him and hold Clell too. Make for the woods!"
Convinced that the men whom they had believed wealthy miners were in reality the terrible bandits, the men and women who had gathered to condone with the Priors had experienced a change of feeling and were yelling and shouting for the capture of the men who had defied the law so many times and with such success.
As they heard the angry cries, Susie and the Prior girls trembled with fear.
"They'll be caught! They'll be caught!" moaned Helen, wringing her hands. "Why don't they fire back?"
From the windows they had seen the wounding of Clell and the killing of his horse under him and believing that it was the beginning of the end, they buried their heads on each other's shoulders, unwilling to see the capture of their brother and heroes, and sobbed.
Yet as they waited for the shouts of triumph that would announce the fact, they were surprised to hear the shout:
"Get horses! Get horses! Ring the church bells! Summon every man in town! We'll surround the woods!"
Doubting their ears, they raised their heads and peered from the windows.
There lay the dead horse, but no sign could they see of Jesse and his chums.
"Thank goodness, they got away!" murmured Marjorie.
"Amen to that," exclaimed a voice behind them.
Startled by its nearness, the girls turned and beheld Lawyer Perkins, a merry twinkle in his eyes.
"I used to do his father's business when the Rev. James lived in these parts," he explained, in response to the looks of amazement on the fair young faces gazing at him. "If people had given Jesse and Frank a fair show after the war, they'd never have taken to their life of outlawry. And if they ever are caught, which I don't believe they will be, I hope I may be one of the men to defend them. I can tell a great many things that were done to hound them from home that would open peoples' eyes!
"But now that they've gone, my girl," he continued, patting Susie on the shoulder, "I think it is best for you to leave town as soon as possible. The people may seek to vent their disappointment at Jesse's escape on his sister. I know the nature of the Springites all too well."
"But there's no train till night," protested Marjorie.
"True, but Susie can come to my office and—hark! What's that cry?"
From a dozen throats rose the shout:
"Seize the girls! We'll have them, anyhow! They helped Jesse to get away!"
"What did I tell you," muttered Lawyer Perkins, his face blanching at the sinister cry. "Come, there isn't a moment to lose. Helen, you won't be safe after summoning me. We'll go out by the front door while they're trying to get in here."
With an agility surprising in one of his years, the barrister sprang to the kitchen door, shut it and bolted it, then followed his frightened charges into the parlour.
Only a few stragglers were there in the front of the farmhouse, the rest of the crowd having swarmed into the yard in the wake of the man-hunters, and when they saw the girls and the barrister emerge from the front door they gave no heed, having been unable to patch the words of the latest shout.
Hurriedly crossing to the house opposite, the lawyer led his charges by a roundabout course, which showed surprising familiarity with the back-yards of his fellow citizens, to his own home and hastily secreted them in one of his chambers, telling them that he would arrange for their departure from the Springs as soon as it should be safe, then went out to mingle with the man-hunters and the excited populace again that he might keep in touch with any changes in the situation.
The town was in a turmoil of excitement when he reappeared upon the main street.
Church bells were clanging out a call to all who could move to leave their homes or fields; mounted men were riding back and forth, rounding up men and youths, yelling to them to bring rifles and shot guns and to gather at the Prior homestead. And everywhere women were adding to the excitement by screaming:
"Death to the bandits! Shoot 'em! Lynch 'em!"
But the confusion incident to the gathering of the posse of citizens acted in favour of Jesse and his pals.
Giving his sole attention to running his own horse and leading his chief's, Cole had left the watching of their pursuers to Jesse as he held Clell in his arms.
By a sharp change in direction, he had got out of range of the death-dealing rifles on the fence.
At the manoeuvre, a howl of baffled rage broke from the spectators who had expected to see the fugitives crushed beneath their mounts when the latter fell before the rain of lead.
Snatching their Winchesters from their supports, those who had them rushed to another place from which they could see the escaping bandits, but when they once more caught sight of them they were far across the field toward the woods.
Training their rifles upon the horses, whose rising and falling bodies presented difficult targets, the men fired. But their bullets were harmless and, though they discharged several volleys, they soon desisted.
"They're in a funk," announced Jesse, looking back toward where the crowd were rushing aimlessly to and fro. "Don't go into the woods. Keep along the edge. We can travel faster and if we're going to shake 'em it'll be before they get horses to chase us."
This statement, somewhat involved and incoherent because of the stress under which its utterer laboured, was understood by Cole, however, and once again he changed the direction of their course.
The significance of the move was apparent to Higgins and his fellows.
"We've got to wire to the next town and have them send out a posse to head 'em off," the former exclaimed. "Dillaby, I leave it to you to make the arrangements. Wire them at Kearney to watch out. So long as one of 'em's injured they may try to get him to Mrs. Samuels. The rest of you come with me to get horses."
But Jeff had anticipated such action and, under cover of the firing, had slipped to the barn and turned all the animals loose, throwing saddles into the grain chests and bridles upon the hay, getting away undetected.
In consequence, when the man-hunters reached the stable, they were dismayed to find them empty and nary a piece of equipment to be seen. And then it was that, in their rage, they raised the cry for the apprehension of the girls, believing them to be the ones who had liberated the horses, which was taken up by the crowd.
Precious minutes were wasted in breaking into and searching the house for the young women.
Realizing at last that they had been balked in all directions, the detectives turned their attention to organizing the horsemen who were arriving, after requisitioning enough of the animals to mount themselves.
When upwards of fifty men had gathered Jones rose in his stirrups.
"We'll ride out the road to head them off," he cried. "There's no use following through the fields. When we get sight of them, don't shoot till I give the word. When I do, make every bullet count! All ready? Forward, then."
Leaping the mettlesome mounts into the road, the posse thundered up the street, the cheers and shouts of the spectators ringing in their ears.
Eager to wipe out the disgrace of the escape of the notorious outlaws, the men rode like fiends.
Past the houses on the outskirts of the town they dashed, never heeding the questions of the people who were attracted by the rumble of the many hoof beats.
But as they gained the clear field beyond the village, they could see no sign of the men they were chasing.
"We've missed 'em again! We ought to have followed the woods. We could at least have seen where the devils entered," growled the disgusted members of the posse.
"Silence in the ranks!" snapped Jones, the criticism rankling. "They may have struck into the road. We can soon tell."
For once, the detective had anticipated the move of the world-famous desperado.
Noticing that the crowd was all up in the air as to what to do, Jesse had swung his injured pal across the saddle in front of him, getting back into the seat himself and ordering Cole to do the same.
"We've got a good lead," he chuckled. "And we can increase it by getting into the highway. We'll ride till we come to Jack Brett's woods and strike for his cabin. If Clell's too badly done up to go on, he'll be safe there."
The plan offering the shortest way out of their predicament, for both desperadoes were sufficiently versed in the ways of the detectives to know that they would wire to the surrounding towns for men to ride out to intercept them, they hurriedly struck toward the road where the hard footing enabled their mounts to increase their speed.
Thoroughly familiar with the lay of the land, they reeled off mile after mile, now and then looking back as they mounted a rise in the road.
"Here they come!" exclaimed Cole suddenly as he caught sight of the cloud of dust raised by the posse.
"Ha! I hadn't counted on their hitting the highway," growled his chief. "We'll strike into the woods as soon as we reach 'em."
Fully half a mile lay between the outlaws and the protecting shelter of the trees and in silence they rode for them.
Nearer and nearer came the whirlwind of dust and soon faint shouts told that the pursuers had sighted their quarry.
But the cries caused the bandits no concern. They knew there were several rises in the road that the posse must cover and timing their arrival at the woods for the interval when they would be hidden by one of them, Jesse swerved his mount into the underbrush.
And the howl of disappointment that broke on the air when the pursuers gained the top of the hill and found the fugitives had disappeared was sweet music to the ears of the bandits.
Again had the man-hunters been balked!