CHAPTER VII
WHEN THIEVES FALL OUT
"By the great sledge-hammer! Here's a whole bale of money!" gasped Dan
Jaggers, after having emptied Hal's shoes.
Wholly unmindful of the one he had just robbed, Jaggers sat down on the ground, passing the banknotes between his fingers.
"I found a small hay-mow of money where I looked, too," observed Josh
Owen, with intense satisfaction, though his manner was calmer.
"How much did you get?" demanded Dan, instantly prepared to be suspicious that his rascally uncle had happened upon the lion's share.
Josh Owen thrust his findings deep down in a trousers pocket before he replied:
"No one will see our light 'way in here. Wait till I light the dark lantern. Then we can count up. But—don't you try to hide any on me, Dan!"
So keenly did the older man watch the younger one that the former burned his fingers twice in attempting to light the lantern. Yet at last the lantern was lighted, the wick turned up not too high, and then the older man invited:
"Sit down in front of me, Dan, sociable like, so I can keep track of yer hands."
"D'ye think I'm the only one'll bear watching?" demanded Jaggers, hoarsely. "I ain't taken my eyes off that pocket o' your 'n. Now, pull out that money, an' be sure ye git it all out. Turn the pocket inside out. That's right. Now, you count your money, an' I'll watch. Then I'll count mine, an' you can watch, if ye wanter."
Mutual confidence being thus established between the rogues, the counting proceeded. Josh found that he had just four hundred dollars in his "findings." Dan Jaggers's count proved that that young bully possessed an exactly equal sum.
"Then there ain't no need o' dividing," declared Dan, thrusting his money into a trousers pocket and fumbling for a pin with which to close the top of the pocket. "Now, I'll go back to the road, find the hoss, an' drive him most of the way into town. Then I'll turn the hoss loose, to do his home-findin' an' I'll keep on until I can buy something in bottles."
"But ye ain't goin' t' take all that money with ye inter town?" protested Josh Owen.
"Why not? It's mine," declared Jaggers, with singular ideas of ownership.
"But I know ye, Dan Jaggers. If ye git inter Dunhaven with all that money ye won't be able to keep from showin' it. Then, if these boys ever git loose, an' do their talkin', folks will remember that ye showed such a lot o' cash on this night, an' the law'll have you caught in yer own steel trap. It'd help to put me in trouble, too. No, no, Danny. Ye can take five dollars, but ye'll have t' leave the rest of the money with me."
"An' then I'd find ye here when I came back, wouldn't I?" sneered
Jaggers.
"Yes!" replied Josh Owen, stoutly, and doubtless meant it, for he was really fond of this rough, shaggy young bully of a nephew of his. "Don't ye see, Danny, it'd be foolish of me to light out with all the money? Then ye'd turn against me, an' help the constables to catch me. Looky here, Danny, you trust me, an' ye won't come far out. Now, take five dollars, an' leave the rest with me."
"No, I won't," retorted that youth, defiantly.
"Yes, ye will!" suddenly shot from between the lips of Josh Owen. He accompanied the words with a spring, bearing his nephew down to the ground, and holding him there.
"I'm stronger than you, Danny, an' ye know it," growled the ex-foreman, hoarsely. "Now, will ye hand up that money, or will ye make me take it from ye?"
With a reluctant grace, while still pinned down to the ground, Dan
Jaggers surrendered his half of the stolen money.
"Now, ye can git up, and go do what's laid out to be done," announced Josh Owen, peeling a five-dollar bill from the roll and handing it to his nephew. "First, get the horse headed right, then go on into town and get the liquor. But don't ye stop to drink in Dunhaven, Danny. If ye do, ye'll be sure to git inter a fight, and ye might do some talkin' too. Hustle in, and hustle back, and ye'll find ye can trust me to hold outer to-night's pickings safe for ye. Don't ye worry a mite on the way to town or back, Danny boy."
If a scowl could have killed, Dan would have triumphed, even now, at the expense of his uncle's life. But Josh paid no heed to black looks. He thought he knew this nephew of his.
"Hurry along, Danny," he coaxed. "My throat is gittin' mighty dry for a bit o' liquor."
"Give me another five-spot," begged Jaggers.
"Not another dollar till ye come back, Danny," rejoined his uncle, firmly. "The quicker ye start, an' return, the quicker ye'll have yer share of the night's business. Now, git!"
Using ugly language under his breath, Dan Jaggers turned and shuffled off through the woods, well knowing that he would suffer from his uncle's heavy hands if he did not.
Josh now extinguished the light by shutting off the slide of his dark lantern. Then, after taking a look at the boys, he seated himself near them, filling his pipe once more while he muttered:
"Subsequent happenin's clean drove them shoes outer Danny's mind. An'
I don't wonder!"
Having gotten his pipe comfortably lighted, Josh could not resist the temptation to open the slide of his lantern ever so little; in order that he might have another look at the money.
"Wonder how ye came to have it?" he muttered, looking at the boys, who, being gagged as well as bound, could not have answered anyway. "I guess likely Farnum must ha' been fool enough to let ye do some collectin' for him," grinned Josh. "In that case, younkers, Danny an' me are makin' it pretty hard for ye all 'round, ain't we?"
That thought appeared to bring Owen around into a state of good humor. He looked at the chuckling, and two or three times broke out into a hearty guffaw.
Jack Benson's mental torment grew as the time passed. Hal Hastings was in no more enviable frame of mind.
"And we brought this upon us by being sympathetic. We wanted to help that infernal little boy out, and carry relief to his injured mother!" thought Jack, squirming. "Confound it, I feel, just now, as though I would never caught trying to do another kind act! All this fearful luck just because we had to have more sympathy than brains! What fools we are!"
Later came this terrifying thought:
"Mr. Farnum won't believe us, of course. The story will sound altogether too absurd." "What will he do—have us sent to jail as common thieves?"
"Ain't very comfortable in yer mind, are ye, younker?" leered Josh Owen, hearing the muffled groan that escaped the boy.
Though Josh Owen smoked many pipefuls, time soon began to drag on that worthy's hands. Hours slipped by.
"I'd no business to let Danny go," growled Owen, uneasily, time after time, often rising and pacing about, though never straying away from the two boys. "That young feller thinks a heap too much o' liquor for one so young. He's spendin' time, as well as money, over in Dunhaven. It won't be so bad if he don't take too much, and get talkative."
Two or three times Josh thought he heard someone moving in the woods.
Each time he called softly, or signaled, but there came no response.
Despite his inward suffering, Jack Benson dozed at last. So, as he afterwards learned, did Hal. Yet these drowsings must have been short. They were filled with horrible dreams of disgrace, imprisonment, and all the misfortunes that healthy young minds in torment could bring up.
At last Jack awoke, with a start, to realize that it was daylight.
Josh Owen was on his feet, his taste for tobacco gone. He was listening, peering between the trees, and making many impatient remarks under his breath.
"Hullo, uncle! Gettin' weary, carryin' 'round my share of the money?" chuckled the voice of Dan Jaggers. Then that shaggy young bully stepped out from behind a tree.
"Ye've been long enough," growled his relieved uncle. "But I'm glad t' see ye're in good enough shape."
"Oh, I'm all right," admitted Jaggers, serenely, as he came forward.
"I've been back here for hours."
"What are ye telling me?" demanded Josh Owen.
"The facts. Ye see, Uncle Josh, I wanted to know whether ye'd forgit ye had my money, an' stray off. So I've been watchin' round, 'thout making no noise, for hours." Josh Owen had no means of knowing whether this statement was the truth or not, but he growled:
"Then ye must know for sure, now, lad, that I'm square with my own nephew.
What'd ye bring back with ye?"
"Something to eat."
"And something to drink, hey? I guess we'll eat first."
Dan retraced his way through the woods a few paces, returning with packages.
"You younkers can see us eat, if you want to," said Josh Owen, with a malicious leer, as he spread a piece of paper on the ground and began to lay out the meal. "When are you two going to eat? I don't know. Maybe not for a few days yet. Ye see, it ain't so easy to make an enemy of a man by sneaky tricks, and then get on his right side again."
This picnic breakfast lasted a long time, it seemed to watchful Jack Benson. But at last it was over. Josh brought out his ill-smelling pipe once more, settling himself, with his back against a tree-trunk, to enjoy himself.
"Bring anything to drink, Danny boy?" inquired Owen, after a few minutes.
"Here's some beer," proposed Jaggers, passing over the bottle.
Josh opened it, took a long drink, then sat with the bottle poised on one of his knees.
"I don't believe ye'd better have any of this, Danny, lad," declared
Owen, with a grin.
"Don't want any," responded Jaggers, in a rather sulky voice.
Dan got up and strolled about, his hands in his pockets, whistling softly but cheerily. Josh Owen finished his unwise beverage, and tossed the bottle a few feet away. Presently the man's eyes closed, but he opened them as though with an effort.
"S'here, Danny," he demanded, thickly, drowsily, "watcher put in that stuff?"
Dan Joggers did not reply, but he turned to watch his uncle, a look of the lowest cunning in the young bully's eyes. For a brief space of time Owen fought against his drowsiness. Then he lurched, falling over on one side, unconscious—drugged.
In a twinkling, then, Dan Jaggers knelt beside his uncle, rifling the other man's pockets until he had brought to light both their shares in the evil-doing of the night.