He returned as quickly as possible to the edge of the swamp, and was contented thereafter to follow the trail of the redskins direct. No more short cuts! He found in time that his early suspicions had been correct. The trail led to the head of the gorge, and he was bound to believe that the murderers were some of Oak Heart’s Sioux.
“Boyd Bennett will learn of the hold-up inside of twenty-four hours—if not sooner. It’s up to me to hide that money where he won’t be able to find it.”
With this decision uppermost in his mind, he put into practise the idea that had been suggested to him as he sat on the tree branch. Returning to the temporary hiding-place of the money, he carried the chest to the edge of the swamp, endeavoring to leave as little trail as possible as he went. He had brought his lariat with him, and when he reached one of the most treacherous-looking pools of mud, he fastened the lariat about the box and lowered it into the depths. The quagmire sucked the box out of sight almost instantly.
Then Cody tied the end of the lariat to a tree-root under the surface of the muck, and so effectually disposed of the treasure where nobody but himself—or some person whom he guided—could find it. He returned to the scene of the hold-up and prepared to get away with the driverless stage instantly.
He placed the dead man inside the stage, tied Chief to one of the leaders, and, mounting to the box, drove hurriedly along the trail.
Being alone, he could not drive the horses and guard the treasure, too; so he had hidden it, intending to bring back a file of troopers from the fort later and pick it up.
He had not driven two miles along the trail when, loud and threatening, rose a voice from the rocks beside the road, which uttered these significant words:
“Live or die—yours the choice! Up with your hands there!”