Part 28 (1/2)
said Jake, in a voice of authority.
The man was taken aback and obeyed; but as Jake mounted he turned suddenly pale.
The outlaw, observing the change, drew the revolver, and, pointing it at the trooper's head, said, in a low savage voice, ”A word, a sound, and your brains are on the floor!”
The man stood open-mouthed, as if petrified. Jake shook the reins of the fiery horse and bounded through the door-way, stooping to the saddle-bow as he went. He could see, even at that moment, that the trooper, recovering himself, was on the point of uttering a shout.
Wheeling round in the saddle he fired, and the man fell with a bullet in his brain.
The shot of course aroused the whole ranch. Men rushed into the yard with and without arms in wild confusion, but only in time to see a flying horseman cross the square and make for the gate. A rattling irregular volley was sent after him, but the only effect it had was to cause the outlaw to turn round in the saddle and wave his hat, while he gave vent to a yell of triumph. Another moment and he was beyond the bluff and had disappeared.
”Boot and saddle!” instantly rang out at the ranch, and every preparation was made for pursuit, though, mounted as Jake was on the best horse of the troop, they could not hope to overtake him.
Hunky Ben, at his own particular request was permitted to go on in advance.
”You see, sir,” he said to the captain, ”my Black Polly an't quite as good as your charger, but she's more used to this sort o' country, an' I can take the short cuts where your horse could hardly follow.”
”Go, Ben, and good luck go with you! Besides, we can do without you, now that we have Mr Brooke to guide us.”
”Come wi' me, sir,” said Hunky Ben, as he pa.s.sed Charlie on his way to the stables. ”Don't you hesitate, Mr Brooke, to guide the captain to the cave of Buck Tom. I'm goin' on before you to hunt up the reptiles-- to try an' catch Jake the Flint.”
The scout chuckled inwardly as he said this.
”But why go in advance? You can never overtake the scoundrel with such a start and on such a horse.”
”Never you mind what I can or can't do,” said Ben, entering the stable where the dead trooper still lay, and unfastening Black Polly. ”I've no time to explain. All I know is that your friend Leather is sure to be hanged if he's cotched, an' I'm sure he's an innocent man--therefore, I'm goin' to save him. It's best for you to know nothin' more than that, for I see you're not used to tellin' lies. Can you trust _me_?”
”Certainly I can. The look of your face, Ben, even more than the character you bear, would induce me to trust you.”
”Well then, Mr Brooke, the first sign o' trust is to obey orders without askin' questions.”
”True, when the orders are given by one who has a right to command,”
returned Charlie.
”Just so, an' my right to command lies in the fact that the life o' your friend Leather depends on your obedience.”
”I'm your humble servant, then. But what am I to do?”
”Do whatever Captain Wilmot orders without objectin', an' speak nothing but the truth. You don't need to speak the _whole_ truth, hows'ever,”
added the scout thoughtfully, as he led out his coal-black steed. ”Your friend Leather has got a Christian name of course. Don't mention it. I don't want to hear it. Say nothin' about it to anybody. The time may come when it may be useful to drop the name of Leather and call your friend Mister whatever the tother name may be. Now mind what I've said to ye.”
As he spoke the last words the scout touched the neck of his beautiful mare, and in another minute was seen racing at full speed over the rolling plain.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
TELLS OF A CRUEL DEED, AND SHOWS HOW MYSTERIOUSLY HUNKY BEN BEHAVED.
When Jake escaped from the ranch of Roaring Bull he tried the mettle of Captain Wilmot's charger to the uttermost, for well he knew that the pursuit would be instant and vigorous; that his late comrade Charlie Brooke could guide the troops to the cavern in Traitor's Trap, and that if his companions, who would doubtless ride straight back, were to escape, they must be warned in time. He also knew that the captain's charger was a splendid one. In order to accomplish his purpose, therefore, he would ride it to death.
The distance between the ranch and the outlaws' cave was not so great but that any mustang in the plains could have traversed it in a day, but the cruel man had made up his mind that the captain's charger should do it in a few hours. It is not so much distance as pace that kills. Had any consideration whatever been extended to the n.o.ble creature by the ign.o.ble brute who rode it, the good horse would have galloped to the head of the Trap almost without turning a hair. At first he strode out over the rolling prairie with the untiring vigour of a well-made frame and a splendid const.i.tution, leaping the little cracks and inequalities of the ground in the exuberance of his strength; though there was no need to bound, and coursing over the knolls as easily as he cantered down the hollows, while his flas.h.i.+ng eye betokened at once a courageous and a gentle spirit. But when the lower slopes of the hills were reached, and steepish gradients were met with here and there, the horse began to put back first one ear and then the other, and sometimes both, as if in expectation of the familiar ”well done,” or pat on the neck, or check of the rein with which the captain had been wont to sanction a slackening of the pace, but no such grace was allowed him. On the contrary, when the first symptom appeared of a desire to reduce speed Jake drove his cruel spurs into the charger's glossy side. With a wild snort and bound the horse stretched out again and spurned the ground as if in indignant surprise.