“Well, the ‘why’ part of that is soon answered,” said the Secret Service man. “It was as a punishment for letting you escape. As to why they chose just that place, I imagine it was because they had trailed you boys down the river bank. When they reached the tunnel and found no trace of you, they knew you must have got clear away, and so they proceeded to string up that chap as a horrible example.”
“But what about the Indian? He was equally guilty. Why didn’t they punish him, too?”
“Well, that I cannot answer. I guess, though, the Indian probably cleared out during the excitement following your escape. His race are pretty wise, as a rule, and he surmised there would be trouble in store for him if he stayed. I’m mighty glad I found that fellow, though, for other reasons than those of humanity.”
“What—for instance?” asked Mr. Dacre.
“Well, I think we may be able to get a lot of useful information out of him about the gang. Information that will help me to get them just where I want them. For, you see, when I do get ready to start in on them, I don’t want to run any chances of a slip up. I want to be able to bring my hand down on the whole shooting match and stamp them out for all time.”
When they retired that night the red-nosed man had so far recovered as to be able to give an account of himself. As Sam had guessed, it was Bully Banjo who had triced the unfortunate fellow up as a “lesson” for his carelessness. The man also confirmed Sam’s guess that the Indian had saved himself by running away. But he had not escaped scot-free, for before the Chinook managed to make his escape Simon Lake had ordered him tied up and several lashes administered. These had been laid on by Zeb Hunt, with a promise of more to come, but when the gang returned from the fruitless search after the boys it was found that the Indian had, in some manner best known to himself, slipped his bonds and made his way to freedom.
From the red-nosed man it was also learned that Bully Banjo intended to run the Chinamen through that day, and set sail the same night for the island where, as the rancher had suspected right along, deliveries of Chinamen were made. In answer to Jack’s questions it was explained that the Chinese were brought across the Pacific as far as Vancouver Island in an ostensible freight steamer. From this they were transferred at a lonely spot to another vessel, which brought them to the island. Here they were kept till opportunities presented themselves to get them through into the States.
No real apprehension was felt at the ranch concerning the rancher and Tom Dacre till about noon the next day, when they failed to put in an appearance. Even allowing for headwinds and other possible delays, this began to look serious.
It was about mid-afternoon that a man on horseback reached the ranch. He was a neighboring landholder, whose ranch bordered in some places on the coast of the Sound. His face was grave as he slipped from his horse in front of the ranch house, and he saw Sam Hartley and Mr. Dacre coming toward him with a good deal of relief.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to face the woman with the news I’ve got,” he said. “That there sloop of Chillingworth’s drifted ashore bottom up in my cove this morning.”