Part 29 (2/2)
”You're right, Ben. I _must_ trust you, and, to say truth, from the little I know of you, I believe I've nothing to fear. But my anxiety is for Ralph--Buck Tom, I mean. You're sure, I suppose, that Mr Brooke will do his best to s.h.i.+eld him?”
”Ay, sartin sure, an', by the way, don't mention your Christian name just now--whatever it is--nor for some time yet. Good-day, an' keep quiet till I come. We've wasted overmuch time a'ready.”
So saying, the scout left the coppice, and, flinging open his coat, re-entered the cave a very different-looking man from what he was when he left it.
”Hunky Ben!” exclaimed Buck, who had recovered by that time. ”I wish you had turned up half-an-hour since, boy. You might have saved my poor friend Leather from a monster who came here and carried him away bodily.”
”Ay? That's strange, now. Hows'ever, worse luck might have befel him, for the troops are at my heels, an' ye know what would be in store for him if he was here.”
”Yes, indeed, I know it, Ben, and what is in store for me too; but Death will have his laugh at them if they don't look sharp.”
”No, surely,” said the scout, in a tone of real commiseration, ”you're not so bad as that, are you?”
”Truly am I,” answered Buck, with a pitiful look, ”shot in the chest.
But I saw you in the fight, Ben; did you guide them here?”
”That's what I did--at least I told 'em which way to go, an' came on in advance to warn you in time, so's you might escape. To tell you the plain truth, Ralph Ritson, I've bin told all about you by your old friend Mr Brooke, an' about Leather too, who, you say, has bin carried off by a monster?”
”Yes--at least by a monstrous big man.”
”You're quite sure o' that?”
”Quite sure.”
”An' You would know the monster if you saw him again?”
”I think I would know his figure, but not his face, for I did not see it.”
”Strange!” remarked the scout, with a simple look; ”an' you're sartin sure you don't know where Leather is now?”
”Not got the most distant idea.”
”That's well now; stick to that an' there's no fear o' Leather. As to yourself--they'll never think o' hangin' you till ye can walk to the gallows--so cheer up, Buck Tom. It may be that ye desarve hangin', for all I know; but not just at present. I'm a bit of a surgeon, too--bein'
a sort o' Jack-of-all-trades, and know how to extract bullets. What between Mr Brooke an' me an' time, wonders may be worked, if you're wise enough to keep a tight rein on your tongue.”
While the scout was speaking, the tramp of cavalry was heard outside, and a few minutes later Captain Wilmot entered the cave, closely followed by Charlie Brooke.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
The Cave of the Outlaws Invaded by Ghosts and US Troops.
We need scarcely say that Buck Tom was wise enough to put a bridle on his tongue after the warning hint he had received from the scout. He found this all the easier that he had nothing to conceal save the Christian name of his friend Leather, and, as it turned out, this was never asked for by the commander of the troops. All that the dying outlaw could reveal was that Jake the Flint had suddenly made his appearance in the cave only a short time previously, had warned his comrades, and, knowing that he (Buck) was mortally wounded, and that Leather was helplessly weak from a wound which had nearly killed him, had left them both to their fate. That, just after they had gone, an unusually broad powerful man, with his face concealed, had suddenly entered the cave and carried Leather off, in spite of his struggles, and that, about half-an-hour later, Hunky Ben had arrived to find the cave deserted by all but himself. Where the other outlaws had gone to he could not tell--of course they would not reveal that to a comrade who was sure to fall into the hands of their enemies.
”And you have no idea,” continued the captain, ”who the man is that carried your friend Leather so hurriedly away?”
”Not the slightest,” returned Buck. ”Had my revolver been handy and an ounce of strength left in me, you wouldn't have had to ask the question.”
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