Chapter XII.
THE OUTLAWS AVOID A TRAP.
As Cole drew rein when they were out of sight from the roadway and prepared to dismount, his chief forbade him:
"We're not safe yet, boy," he cautioned. "Dillaby and his fellows will turn heaven and earth to find us. Our getting away from old man Prior's was pretty raw work for detectives who are supposed to be onto their jobs and rather than be hauled up on the carpet to explain to their superiors, they'll work as they never have before.
"I didn't even propose to stay at Brett's longer than to make an examination of Clell. Some of the posse must know him and they'll suggest it to the man-hunters and there'll be a merry old raid."
Yet even the bandit-chieftain was surprised at the suddenness with which his prophecy was fulfilled.
One of the men who was riding with Higgins did, indeed, know of the lonely cabin. Many a day he had passed beneath its thatched roof, waiting for the night to come that they might go out to shoot the deer, lured by the flaring torches, called "jacks" in hunter's parlance, they had placed nearby.
As he noted the section in which the fugitives had vanished, the hut immediately flashed into his mind and without delay he communicated his thought to the detectives.
"It's worth trying," cried the man-hunters, delightedly. "One of 'em is surely wounded and Jesse's probably making for the cabin either to leave him or wait for him to recover so they can go on. When—"
"Isn't there another trail by which we can reach the cabin?" interrupted Jones. "If we follow the one they took with so many horses they would be more than likely to hear us. But if we could arrive there first or from a different direction we'd stand a mighty good chance of getting them for keeps."
Others acquainted with the country were called into consultation as the fellow who had suggested the lonely cabin declared that he knew only the way the outlaws, had apparently taken.
"I don't know of no other trail," drawled an old, grizzled farmer, "but I do know a place whar we kin git within a few rods of Brett's an' by goin' through fields, too."
"Then take us there. A hundred dollars if we arrive before Jesse," returned Higgins.
"It's up to you," grinned the man. "If you kin ride, we'll git thar. It ain't no josh about the money, is it?" he added, with Yankee shrewdness seeking to make sure of the reward before he showed the way.
"No, sir," rejoined the Pinkerton. "All you've got to do is to get us there in a hurry and you'll earn the easiest hundred dollars you ever did."
"I reckon that's right," grinned the farmer. "Come on." And heading diagonally across the fields toward the woods, he raced along through the grass, taking the fences and stonewalls with an ease that would have put many a pink-coated, society huntsman to the blush.
So hot was the pace set by the guide that even those of the posse accustomed from childhood to the saddle were forced to exert themselves to keep up and the detectives were soon left straggling as best they could, barely managing to keep the others in sight.
"It looks as though you'd be out your hundred plunks," laughed Jones.
"It certainly does and I hope to goodness I am. You don't seem to grasp the fact that your 'Uncle Dudley' knew what he was doing when he made that proposition."
The questioning glances bestowed upon the detective by his comrades showed that they had not, indeed, suspected that there was a hidden meaning to the offer.
"If these Rubes do get there ahead of Jesse, they'll be obliged to fight or run. If they do the latter, I'll save my hundred; if they give battle, which from their state of mind I should think more likely, the whole thing'll be over before we arrive on the scene and there won't be any danger of our bodies offering a stopping place for any of the cut-throat's bullets."
The declaration was made with all the satisfaction of a man who had consummated a clever bargain and he looked from one to another of his fellows complacently.
None of them were loath to be saved from exposing themselves to the guns of Jesse and his pals and as they realised that the innocent proposition had obviated this danger, the spirits of the man-hunters rose rapidly and they laughed and joked as they rode along.
But in their glee, they forgot the old adage, "he who laughs last laughs best."
For the very eagerness of the grizzled farmer to win the hundred dollars defeated the detectives' purpose.
The distance to the cabin was almost a mile less by the short cut through the fields than by the path through the woods by which the desperadoes were advancing.
By hard riding, the posse gained the edge of the forest and, under the guidance of the old man, without much trouble made their way to the clearing in which Brett's hut stood.
No dogs, horses or men were in sight as the man-hunters cautiously peered from the underbrush before riding into the open.
"The devils either ain't got hyar yit or they're inside the cabin," declared the farmer.
"Thar's Brett's padlock on the door, so they ain't inside," asserted another.
"Hooray! I've won my hundred! Hey, you fellows, hurry up! I want my money!" shouted the guide, slapping his thighs in joyful anticipation of the reward.
In his excitement, the man had bellowed the words and his stentorian tone woke the echoes in the trees.
Blissfully ignorant of the change of course of their pursuers, the notorious bandits were picking their way along the trail when the shout rang through the woods.
Instantly Jesse and Cole drew rein, staring at one another.
"What does that mean?" asked the latter.
"You've got me," rejoined his chief. "I couldn't catch the words, but it behooves us to be careful."
And with eyes and ears alert, the outlaws again advanced. But their assurance was gone.
That something was transpiring of which they were ignorant, yet which vitally concerned them, each of them believed. So strong did this feeling become at last, that Cole bade his chief wait in the forest while he went forward to reconnoitre.
At first, the world-famous desperado would not listen to the suggestion, declaring that if either of them went, he would. But his opposition was finally overcome by his chum's argument that it would be less disastrous for him to be captured than his chief and, picking out a thicket several rods from the trail they had been following, Jesse concealed himself to await the result of the scouting expedition.
Leaving his horse behind, the eldest of the Younger brothers glided away among the trees, now dodging from one trunk to another, now dropping to his knees, but ever with the silence and stealth of an Indian brave.
The roar of the guide had been heard by the detectives as well, and as it broke on the air, Higgins cursed the man roundly.
"He'd wake the dead," he growled. "If Jesse's in these woods, he'll get wise in a jiffy. Confound the idiot, anyhow."
"Don't fly off the handle so," soothed Jones. "The bandits probably know we're after them. They'll think the shout came from behind and ride all the faster to reach the cabin to get their nags hidden before we get there.
"Come on. I want to be in on some of the fun."
But when the detectives arrived at the edge of the woods, they were confronted by the fact that they were ignorant of the direction to take to reach the rest of the posse.
"Perhaps they'll shout again," hazarded one of their number. Yet, though they listened intently, no further sound came from either the posse or the winner of the hundred dollars.
At the end of five minutes, the detectives were unable longer to stand the suspense.
"Hey, some of you! Come and show us the way!" halloed Higgins.
Instead of obeying, however, the countryfolk yelled for them to ride in a straight line from a clump of beeches.
Unfamiliar with the different kinds of trees, the professional man-hunters were unable to recognize the beeches and quickly made the fact known, whereupon the grizzled farmer, who had acted as guide for the others, returned to them.
After separating from his chief, Cole had laid his course so that he would come out on a little rise in front of Brett's hut between it and the field in which the Pinkertons were.
Unaware of their presence, the outlaw was mounting the elevation when the cry from the detectives came to him.
Dropping flat on the instant, he listened for the response, peering about to see if he had run into an ambuscade.
But as the answer rang out from the opposite side, he realized that some of the men had reached the cabin.
Surprised at finding himself between them, in danger of discovery by one party or the other, Cole lost no time in wriggling down the little hill.
It was enough for him to know that some of the man-hunters had reached Brett's ahead of Jesse and himself and, without trying to ascertain how strong was their force, he bounded away to apprise the world-famous desperado of the situation.
"By thunder! It's a lucky thing you went ahead, boy," exclaimed the latter as his pal imparted the startling information.
"It would have been a pretty mess if we'd stumbled into the whole kit and boodle of 'em.
"We'd have had about as much show of getting out alive as a snowball has in the hot place.
"But we can't stay here. They'll get suspicious if we don't show up right soon and scour the woods for us. Besides, we've got to get Clell to some place where we can put him to bed. I looked at his wound while you were gone. It's a nasty one. His left shoulder's shattered. I don't believe he'll ever be able to use it again.
"The question is, where can we take him where he'll be safe?"
"The only place I know of is Uncle Snuffer's, over near Chalk Level," replied Cole after several moments' deliberation. "He'll be all right there for a couple of days and as soon as we know how he's coming out, Uncle Snuffer can move him, if you want."
Never having heard of the relative of his chum, the great outlaw asked as to the location of the house and if the man could be trusted.
"Theodoric Snuffer'll do anything for money," rejoined his nephew. "If you offer him ten dollars, with a promise of more if he takes care of Clell and a threat of killing him if he doesn't, he'll be mighty sure to try to earn the money."
"Then it's Snuffer's for us," returned Jesse, smiling at the uncomplimentary description of his uncle the eldest of the Younger brothers had portrayed.
The woods in which the bandits were, lay about half way between Monegaw Springs and Chalk Level and without more ado, they headed for the latter town, advancing as rapidly as they could.
During the wait for the return of his pal, after he had learned the extent of Clell's injury, the bandit-chieftain had dressed and bound the wound with some of the lotions and salves he had received from the mysterious woman of the cave on his last trip into Mexico, which he always carried in a little case in the bosom of his shirt, administering an opiate to relieve the pain when he had finished.
Warned by their narrow escape from the trap laid by the Pinkertons, the two desperadoes rode with eyes and ears open.
Without misadventure, they reached the one-storied house occupied by Cole's uncle when the outlaw again went ahead of his chief to see that no inquisitive neighbors were there.
As he stole up to the door, he was disappointed to hear the sound of voices from within yet, as he listened, his disappointment changed to delight.
The voices were those of his brothers Jim and John!
Quickly making his presence known, Cole waved aside their avalanche of questions by stating that Jesse, with the disabled Clell, was awaiting his return and without beating about the bush asked his uncle if he would shelter the wounded outlaw till they could find some other place for him.
His consent given, the oldest of the Younger brothers returned for his chief and soon they were in the house while their weary horses were contentedly munching bounteous feeds of corn and oats in the barn.
When Jesse had put Clell to bed and made pecuniary arrangements that were entirely satisfactory to the avaricious Snuffer, for his care, he rejoined Jim and John in the kitchen.
"This is luck, finding you boys here," he declared as he lighted his pipe. "Now we can carry out my plans without delay. I was afraid, after Clell was knocked out, that it might take some time to round any of you up. But your being here enables us to start to-night."
Delighted at the prospect of once again participating in the wild deeds of their idol, John and Jim eagerly asked his plans. But with a nod toward their uncle, the great outlaw bade them wait till they were on the way.
Realizing the wisdom of not letting the miser know too much, they fell to exchanging their experiences since they last had met, a diversion that kept them engaged during supper and till well into the evening.
Back in the woods around Brett's cabin, the man-hunters were riding hither, thither and yon, beating the underbrush for the outlaws who had escaped them and searching the ground for the hoof prints of their horses that they might learn in what direction their quarry had disappeared. But the falling twilight made the task fruitless.
When Higgins and his fellows had been guided to the hut, they hastily stationed the members of the posse in the woods surrounding the cabin that they might not be in sight as the expected bandits arrived, yet in such positions that they could pour a deadly hail of bullets into both them and their horses.
But before his neighbours scattered to take their places, the grizzled farmer exclaimed:
"I want my hundred. I got you hyar afore the outlaws an' I want it now so's I'll be sure to git it. You may not be alive to give it to me after they git hyar."
This none too cheerful suggestion did not make the offerer of the bonus any more eager to pay it, especially as the affair had not turned out in the manner he had outlined to his companions as they crossed the fields, and he tried to hedge.
But the guide was not to be denied.
"If you don't fork it over an' right off, I'll ride into the woods yellin' to Jesse James to look out," he threatened.
Confronted by such a contingency, Higgins had no recourse but to pay, which he did forthwith.
As minute after minute went by without either sight or sound of the desperadoes, the man-hunters in the underbrush began to grow restive and talked among themselves.
Freely was the opinion expressed by those of them who were old hunters that their quarry had either been scared off by the hails of the detectives or had never intended to hide in the lonely cabin.
Jones, however, insisted upon waiting, arguing that the bandits, believing themselves safe when they took to the forest, were only riding leisurely and would soon appear.
But when a half hour had passed without their showing up, even he was convinced that their plans had miscarried and ordered the posse to scour the woods.
And as they searched, the man who had won the hundred dollars was the only cheerful one among them though he wisely kept as far from the vicinity of the disgruntled Higgins as he could.
Not till it was so dark that the members of the posse had difficulty in distinguishing their fellows was the search given up, however.
Too crestfallen to speak, the detectives gave assent by their silence to the suggestion to return to the Springs and rode far behind the others, hoping against hope that some of the towns warned by Dillaby might have reported the capture of the world-famous desperado.
As the reader knows, no such announcement greeted them and in despair they wired to the office in Chicago.
The hours elapsing before the reply came were not made happy for the man-hunters by the townsfolk of the Springs and when their instructions read for them to remain in the village till the arrival of Captain Lull, who would take charge of the pursuit, their cup of bitterness was filled to the brim.
But almost at the very moment that the orders were received by the detectives, Jesse, Cole, John and Jim rode from the yard of Theodoric Snuffer.