HELD IN CAPTIVITY
"The only thing to do," said Ross to Crowley, as they talked apart from the others, "is to tie up this here kid until we can make a get-away. The whole shebang is blowed, now thet he knows as much as he does. Me an' you can do a sneak with what the' is in the safe, an' let these gazoots hold the bag."
"I'm in favor of a get-away, all right, fer yo' an' me, but not yet! The's altogether too much stuff to leave behind; an' there ain't no use o' gittin' cold feet. What kin thet Bar O outfit do, anyhow? The' ain't one chanct in a million thet they kin find anythin', an' while I ain't in favor o' puttin' this here kid's light out, we kin keep him here indefinit'—ef we want to. The' be an awful squawk when he turns up missin', but kids has bin missin' afore, an' they ain't got no call to lay nuthin' at our door. Ef they do, an' worst comes to worst, we'll give 'em a battle!"
It took some time for Crowley to convince Ross that this was the proper course to pursue; but eventually Ross determined to stick it out, and he and Crowley came back to the others, and Crowley gave the orders.
"A couple of yo' men block up the tunnel so 't a snake can't get through either way. Ross, let's yo' an' me hobble this here young Jim Corbett so 't he'll stay with us a spell." Turning to Whitey, he said, "Yo' are goin' t' be a guest o' the ranch fer a time, Jim. 'S long's yo' don't make no fuss an' try to git away, er t' put somethin' over, yer' goin' to be all right an' treated nice. But the first break yo' make—well, Son, that'll be 'bout the last thing yo' 'll ever do!"
Crowley and Ross grabbed Whitey, who resisted to the best of his ability. "You've got no right to keep me here!" he protested. "I haven't committed any crime and I don't propose to be made a prisoner! If I am, you bet you'll pay for it!"
"Mebbe not," said Crowley, "but jes' the same, we ain't goin' to dispense with yo'r society for a spell. Yo' come without no invitation, an' now I reckon yo' might as well tarry 'long with us. Ef we let yo' go out at night mebbe one o' them ontamed Jack-rabbits might sneak up an' bite yo'. Hol' on, yo' young scorpion!"
The occasion of the last remark was a solid kick on the shins that Whitey landed on the taunting Crowley as the latter reached for the boy and tried to hold his arms so that Ross could tie them. Whitey did not propose to stand still and be hobbled, and he left no doubt of it in the minds of either Ross or Crowley. Of course, the boy stood no chance in the hands of the two strong men; but for a few moments there was considerable fuss; before they got Whitey "roped and thrown," he had inflicted a number of painful bruises on each of the men.
"Sufferin' cats!" said Crowley as he limped away from the bound and prostrate form of Whitey. "Of all the varmints ever I tackled that's the worst! I wish I'd let Tucker alone when he wanted to shoot him up!"
Ross swore roundly and with great fervency as he tried to stop a nose-bleed with his coat-sleeve. Whitey, in his wrath, threw all discretion to the winds, as he struggled at his bonds, but could not loose them.
"You wait—you two cattle-thieves!" sputtered Whitey, as he lay on the floor of the cavern. "You wait till the Bar O outfit gets done with you. You and your counterfeit brands! Bill Jordan will hold a necktie-party and don't you forget it!"
"Put a gag onto him, Crowley," said Ross, as he wiped away some blood from his nose.
"Put it on yo'self," answered Crowley, "I got a belly-full o' monkeyin' with him, right now!" And Crowley showed a severe bruise on his shin as he rolled up the leg of his trousers.
"I'll put it on," said Tucker, eagerly; and taking a handkerchief, he bent over Whitey and started to insert the gag in no gentle manner. In a moment Tucker let out a howl and jumped back, nursing a badly bitten hand. With an oath he sprang back at Whitey and delivered a severe downward blow at Whitey's face, but Whitey ducked to one side, and Tucker's fist crashed against the rocky floor of the cavern. Before he had time to deliver another, Crowley had pulled him off, and hurled him aside.
"Now, listen, you big stiff," said Crowley, menacingly. "If yo' pulls any more o' that stuff, I'll tend to yo'—er mebbe I'll untie that kid an' sic him onto yo'! I knowed yo' was pretty low-down, but I give yo' more credit 'n to want to soak a boy—an' him with his hands an' feet tied!"
"Well, look what he done to me!" yelled Tucker, exhibiting his hands—one badly bitten, and the other bruised and bleeding from its contact with the rocky floor of the cavern. "Look what he done!"
"Well, yo' wanted the job of gaggin' him, didn't yo'?" said Crowley. "Yo' didn't s'pose thet rarin' catamount was gonna lie there an' let yo' put yo'r finger into his mouth 'thout bitin' it, did yo'? An' as fer thet other hand—I guess, mebbe, yo' ain't got no great kick comin' 'bout thet. I'd like t' seen yo' break yo'r arm!"
If Mr. "One-Card" Tucker was looking for sympathy, he needed some powerful glasses; for no matter how depraved and dishonest men are, there usually remains in them a liking for fair play and a certain sympathy for the under dog. And no matter how low their standard of morals may be otherwise, there are very few Western men who will stand by and see a man abuse either a woman or a boy or a dumb animal. It isn't in the breed.
Crowley turned to Ross, who, by this time, had managed to stop his nose-bleed: "I don't reckon thet this here ragin' hyena needs no gag. We'll stow him back in the cellar, an' he kin yell his head off, ef he wants to; he can't raise no holler loud 'nuff fer anybody to hear. A couple o' yo' men take an' tote him back into the angle back o' the cattle. An' look out how you handle him! He's a ring-tail Looloo, with a stinger on head an' tail!"
Two of the men picked up the bound Whitey had started back with him, but Crowley stopped them. Turning to all the men, he said, "An' right here, I gives notice—partic'lar to yo', One-Card—thet ef any thin' happens to thet kid, I'm gonna settle with you personal'. Thet makes yo' his g'ardeen an' pertector. D' yo' understand? Rustlin' cattle is bad enough, but murderin' babies is a heap worse, an' I ain't takin' no chances facin' a jury on them partic'lar indictments."
"He's a fine, healthy baby!" said Ross and Tucker, feeling of their wounds.
And all this time Injun lay still in the hay and waited for his opportunity.
The two men proceeded to carry Whitey around the pen in which the cattle were coralled, to where the passage turned at a sharp angle. The dim light of their lantern sufficed to illuminate only that portion of the cavern in the immediate vicinity, but judging from the echoes that reverberated from the recesses beyond, the cave ran for a considerable distance into the mountain. The men deposited Whitey upon the rocky floor with little ceremony, and retraced their steps; and soon he was left in darkness and silence. The two men were joined at the stairs leading to the house above by those who had been sent to block up the entrance from the river, and the closing of the heavy door above left the two boys alone in the cavern.