CHAPTER XX.—THE STAGE IS ROBBED.
HE next morning Vance met his old acquaintance, Hank Casey.
“Good morning, Mr. Casey,” said Vance, cheerily.
“Hello, pardner,” was the laconic and somewhat dejected reply.
“I haven’t seen you for some time,” said Vance.
“No, I’ve been prospectin’ round these ‘ere diggin’s, but I guess I won’t stay much longer. The court decided agin Steve Gibbons an’ me. I think I’ll go back to Butte City afore long. She’s the pertest minin’ camp in the ‘hull country.”
“You say the court has decided against you?” repeated Vance.
“Yes,” he replied, “Steve Gibbons an’ we had a law suit agin’ Rufus Grim over the Peacock. B. Webster Legal is a pretty cute lawyer, an’ for a time he made it bilin’ hot for old Grim, but somehow on the show-down we got done up. It don’t make much difference how cute a feller’s lawyer is, when the court’s prejudiced all out o’ shape. I sometimes think old Grim has a ‘nuf sight better title to the court of this ‘ere district than he has to the Peacock mine.”
“Your friend Gibbons,” said Vance, “told me sonnies thing of this law suit, and I rather expected, with the assistance of an attorney like B. Webster Legal, you would succeed in establishing your claim. You have my sympathy if an injustice has been done you.”
“Oh, it wa’n’. no fault of Lawyer Legal, I can tell you, he’s a hummer, and a mighty social chap in the bargain; but this ‘ere game isn’t played to a finish yet, pardner, not by several great, big moves on the chess board. You see, we’ve appealed it to the higher courts, but they’re so dangnation slow that a feller had better get a hustle on hisself while he’s waitin’ for a decision or he’ll starve. When old Grim has his neck broken, honest people may then get their just deserts.” He seemed dejected, and soon after took his leave, saying that he was going into the mountains to do a little prospecting.
The Peacock mine was constantly increasing its output of the yellow metal. Nearly every stage carried shipments of gold bullion to the mints. Rufus Grim was growing richer and more pompous. His satellites and admirers noticeably increased after the courts had decided in his favor.
In the meantime the pumps in Gray Rocks had broken down and delayed the work several weeks. Vance was in a state of feverish anxiety. He longed to be relieved from the mental strain and know whether he was a half owner in a gold mine that produced in paying quantities, or only a half owner in a worthless shaft in the mountain side.
He retired one evening at an early hour, tired out and thoroughly disgusted with his achievements in the west. He was awakened about two o’clock in the morning by a great commotion going on below. Hastily dressing himself, he went down to the bar-room, where he found everything was wild with excitement. The stage coach had been robbed, and it was reported that Steve Gibbons was dead. Hasty preparations were being made to form a posse and start in pursuit of the highwaymen.
The express company had some heavy consignments of gold bullion sent from the Peacock mine, and it was reported missing. Vance signified his willingness to join in the pursuit, and was furnished with a horse, and soon after they started pell-mell down the mountain road from Gold Bluff in the direction of Waterville, to the point where the robbery had taken place.
Rufus Grim offered $1,000 for the capture of the perpetrators, which, together with a large sum offered by the express company, stimulated a feverish interest in the chase.
The sun was just coming up when they reached the place where the robbers had sallied forth from a neighboring mountain gorge the morning before and committed their lawless work. About two miles beyond, they found the only two passengers of the ill-fated stage coach. A gentleman and his wife from the east had been visiting Colonel Boast, the rich rancher who lived near Gold Bluff, and were returning to their eastern home. The gentleman had been relieved of his wallet, containing some $2,000, also his watch, diamond pin, and his wife of her jewelry. They were left in a destitute condition, and were waiting to take the next stage back to Gold Bluff to secure such aid from Colonel Boast as would enable them to continue their homeward journey.
They said there were five of the robbers. When they commanded Steve Gibbons to stop, he whipped up his horses, and received a bullet through his body for his attempted bravery. He fell from the stage coach and sustained serious injuries.
The robbers quickly stopped the horses, relieved the two passengers of their possessions, secured the express matter and started for the mountain wilds, taking with them the four dapple-gray horses that Steve Gibbons had prided himself so much in driving.
Gibbons had been carefully cared for by the mountain rancher and his wife, where the two passengers were stopping. A physician had been sent for and dressed his wounds. He said Gibbons would get well; the bullet had struck a rib and glanced off.
After learning these meager details, the posse pushed on into the mountains in hot pursuit. They were under command of the sheriff of the county. The trail of the desperadoes was easily followed. Along in the afternoon, the sheriff called a halt for refreshments. The horses were tethered with lariats to some trees that grew near a mountain stream, and permitted to graze while the men refreshed themselves with lunches which they had brought along.
“We’re twenty-four hours behind the rascals,” said the sheriff, “and I don’t know whether we’ll overtake them or not.” Some of the men were eager to go on, and others were ready to give up the chase. After a rest of an hour or such a matter, the order was given to again mount, and the trail was followed until darkness set in. Sleeping on the ground with the starry canopy for a covering was a new experience for Vance, but he was determined not to show the white feather. What others endured he would endure.
About ten o’clock the next morning, they came to a mountain gorge and followed the trail to a point where it seemed quite impossible for a horseman to ascend, it was so steep and rugged. The sheriff and a few of his men dismounted and went on ahead, looking for the trail. They found horses’ tracks, but where could they have gone? The grass was deep and heavy in the center of the gulch, and fringed with trees and boulders on either side. Finally the sheriff returned and reported the trail as lost. "They have evidently come into this ‘pocket’ of a canon to throw us off their trail. We will have to return to the mouth of the gorge and see in what other direction the trail leads.”
The afternoon was spent in searching for the lost trail. Night overtook the party again, and rations were very short. Their meal was a frugal one, and far from satisfying the hunger of men who had ridden hard all day. The horses were securely fastened and the party lay down to sleep. Vance made his bed on some bunch grass that grew under the wide-spreading branches of a mountain pine. He could plainly hear the rippling of a stream which ran near by, and when deep silence settled down over the landscape, save the occasional snort of one of the horses, the singing of the stream grew louder and louder. The smell of pine added to the deliciousness of his novel and strange surroundings. Weariness soon overcame the discomforts of his improvised bed, and he sank to sleep. Suddenly he awoke in the middle of the night, but found everyone else was deep in slumber, save the two guards that had been left on duty a few yards from the camp. The stars were winking at him from above; a wolf was howling a dismal cadence, and was answered by another far away in a different direction. An owl hooted its discordant strain from the dead branch of a tree a short distance away.
He closed his eyes, and thought of the wonderful change that a few months had brought into his life; but these thoughts one after another vanished; and still other fancies went pell-mell through his imagination in the panorama of thought. Presently a face appeared on this mental canvas—so sweet, so tender, so trusting, and wreathed in that smile he knew so well. He started, opened his eye and murmured, “Louise.”
The wolf howled again in the distance, and he thought he detected a snappish twang in its concluding barks, and wondered if it foreboded danger. Occasionally one of the horses would snort and stamp on the ground, and then go on munching, munching, the grass on which they were feeding. Finally he dozed again and slept. He thought it was only a moment afterward, when someone shook his shoulder and told him to get up. He opened his eyes and found it was morning.
He hastily sprang up and found there was considerable excitement among his associates. The sheriff was missing. About a half hour later he came into camp and said he had been out looking for the trail, but could find nothing of it. He said they might as well return home.
Vance was not sorry of this decision, for he was hungry and tired and sore. There were mutterings, however, among some of the sheriff’s posse, and they whispered among themselves as if they suspected their chief of crooked work.
It took them two days to return to Gold Bluff. They found Steve Gibbons at the hotel, and able to sit up. The robbers had all worn masks, and it was impossible for him to give a description of any of them. The representative of the express company was evidently disappointed that the sheriff had not been able to find the desperadoes; $10,000 of gold bullion had been stolen, as well as other valuable express matter.
A few days later, Steve Gibbons declared that he was able to resume his place on the stage coach, but it transpired that two of his bondsmen had asked to be relieved This was an insinuation that some one regarded him as an accomplice in the unfortunate stage robbery. He investigated and found it was Rufus Grim who had advised two of his bondsmen to be a little careful. During the day, through Vance’s assistance, Gibbons succeeded in giving a satisfactory bond.
That evening, a little the worse for drink, he accosted Rufus Grim at the post office, where the Gold bluff villagers were wont to congregate on the arrival of the evening coach.
Steve Gibbons was evidently the agressor. “Look’ee here, Mr. Grim,” said Steve Gibbons, approaching him, “you’ve been interferin’ with me for a good many years, and it’s time you was lettin’ up.”
“I don’t know, Mr. Gibbons,” said Grim, “that I have ever interfered with you. I have plenty of business of my own to look after, without bothering with other people’s.”
“That’s all right, pardner,” said Gibbons, “but there’s somebody likely to wish they’d never been born if they don’t quit foolin’ with me. You advised some of my bondsmen to take their names off from the bond, but I’ve got other friends, and jes’ as many of ‘em as you have, and don’t you forget it!”
“There must be some mistake, Mr. Gibbons,” said Grim, very coolly.
“I know,” said Gibbons, “jes’ what I’m talkin’ about. You have tried to infer that I was mixed up in the robbery of the stage coach, and I say you are an unprincipled old scoundrel, and a liar in the bargain. If I was as strong as I was before I was shot, I’d maul the earth with you. You stole the Peacock mine from Hank Casey an’ me, an’ I’ve my suspicions that you bought judge and jury to beat us in our law suit.”
One would have thought that Grim would have become very angry, but instead, he tried to pacify the irate and angry Steve Gibbons. It seemed to anger Gibbons beyond description that he could not disturb the even temper of Rufus Grim, and finally, in a burst of anger at Grim, Gibbons said: “You’d better have your life insured, old man, for somebody’s goin’ to be revenged, and the day of judgment ain’t very far ‘way, nuther.”
At this threat, Grim turned quickly and reached for his revolver. Gibbons was unarmed. A moment later, Grim seemed to master himself, and turning away, walked down the street.
Hank Casey put his arm through Steve Gibbon’s and led him to the hotel. Gibbons was hilarious, but Casey felt that in his hilarity he had been very indiscreet. The next morning, however, he mounted the stage coach on his regular run between Gold Bluff and Waterville.