Part 6 (2/2)

Billy Brackett sat on the floor, grasping Bim's collar, and awaiting further developments as calmly as though he were merely a disinterested spectator of this unique performance. The dog, with teeth displayed to an alarming extent, stood ready to fly at the invaders whenever he should be released. In front of this group, and a few paces from it, stood half a dozen men, all of whom held guns that were pointed at the young engineer. The form of the Sheriff, with pistol still levelled at his prisoner, appeared at the open window.

”Do you surrender?” he demanded.

”Certainly,” replied Billy Brackett, cheerfully; ”if you desire it.

I'm always ready to accommodate, especially when it's no trouble to do so.”

”Throw up your hands, then,” commanded the Sheriff.

”To do that,” argued the prisoner, without moving, ”I shall be obliged to let go my hold of this bull-dog. The moment I do so our friends with the empty guns will be apt to fancy that about a yard of particularly hot and well-greased lightning has been forged for their especial benefit. Still, if you insist--”

”Oh, hang your dog!” exclaimed Mr. Riley. ”You must hold on to him, of course, until we can find a rope to tie him with. Where are your pals?”

”This is the only one I have at present,” answered Billy Brackett, indicating him by a glance; ”but I am in search of another, and have reason to believe that he is on this island at this very minute.

Haven't seen anything of him, have you? He is a young fellow, about sixteen, named Caspar, son of Major Caspar, of Caspar's Mill, up the river a bit. He left home yesterday on a raft, and I was to join him hereabouts.”

”What sort of a raft?” asked the Sheriff.

”Big timber raft. Two sweeps at each end, and three shanties on it, two of them filled with wheat.”

”No,” replied Mr. Riley, in a relieved tone; for on hearing the well-known name of Caspar his men had exchanged meaning looks and smiles, which indicated their belief that the Sheriff might be getting into hot-water. ”I did arrest a young rascal of about that age half an hour ago,” he continued, ”just as he was leaving this island on a raft; but it was only a small affair, built of two or three logs, and not at all such a raft as you describe. I've got the boy out here now, and I believe him to be one of your pals, in spite of your cheeky talk. Yon don't want to give me any more of it, either,” he concluded, in a fierce tone, a.s.sumed to rea.s.sert the dignity of his office. ”So just cork up, and come along quietly, or you may find yourself in trouble.”

”All right,” replied Billy Brackett, calmly; ”but first, perhaps you'll be kind enough to tell me who you are, why you are taking such an interest in me, and where you want me to go.”

”I am the Sheriff of Dubuque County, Iowa,” was the answer. ”I have a warrant for your arrest as a member of the most dangerous gang of counterfeiters that has ever operated in this section of country, and I want you to go with me to the county jail, which will be only a stopping-place on your journey to State-prison.”

”I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Sheriff, and obliged for your courtesy,” said Billy Brackett, politely. ”Now if you will do me the favor to read the names mentioned in your warrant, I shall have nothing further to request.”

”William Gresham, _alias_ Gilder, _et al._,” replied Mr. Riley.

”Good. But suppose I can prove to you that I am not the person you take me to be, and that my name is neither Gresham nor Gilder, _et al._, but that I am a civil engineer, William Brackett by name, brother-in-law of Major Caspar, whom I am certain you must know, and that you are making a rather sizable mistake in connection with this business. Supposing, also, I state that I am just now engaged on an important mission which will not admit of delay, and that in case you insist on taking me to jail, I can and will make you suffer, even to the extent of losing your office.”

By this time Billy Brackett was standing up, while Bim, reluctantly obeying his stern command, lay motionless at his feet. The men of the Sheriff's posse had ceased to level their guns at the young engineer, and even Mr. Riley was so impressed with this bold att.i.tude and declaration of innocence that he consented to come inside the hut and examine the papers offered for his inspection. He was about to declare his satisfaction with them, and admit that perhaps he had made a mistake, when the man whom he had left to guard Winn rushed up with the announcement that his prisoner had escaped.

At this the Sheriff's face clouded angrily. ”We'll find him if he is still on the island!” he exclaimed. ”If he has left it we'll follow him; and, at any rate, Mr. Brackett, I must now insist upon your coming to Dubuque, where you will be granted every opportunity for proving what you please. In the mean time, you and I will await here the result of the search for the escaped prisoner that my men will at once proceed to make.”

To this Billy Brackett returned no answer, but stood silently considering how he should avoid the vexatious delay that now appeared inevitable. While he was thus cudgelling his brains, one of the searching party returned to report that the skiff in which they had come up the river was missing.

The Sheriff became furious. ”I don't believe it!” he cried. ”Here, you! Stop and guard this prisoner, while I go and take charge of the search myself.”

As Mr. Riley departed, the new guard entered the hut, leaned his rifle against the wall, and took a seat near the door.

Then Billy Brackett stooped and whispered to his ever-faithful comrade, ”Watch him, Bim!” and the dog answered with a low growl that spoke volumes. Turning to the guard the young engineer said, ”My friend, if you make the slightest motion or shout for help, that bull-dog will fly at your throat. I am going to leave you alone with him for a minute, and as you value your life, I beg of you to keep perfectly quiet until you hear from me.” With this the prisoner leaped lightly from the window and disappeared.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'Watch him, Bim!'”]

For two minutes the guard sat as motionless as though carved from stone, his fascinated gaze fixed on the gleaming teeth and bloodshot eyes of the bull-dog that stood rigidly before him. Then a shrill whistle rang out on the still air, and at its sound the dog, das.h.i.+ng past him, disappeared like a flash. In another minute Billy Brackett's l.u.s.ty strokes were sending his own skiff dancing out towards the middle of the main channel, while Bim, thumping with his tail in appreciation of his master's praises, occupied the stern seat as calmly as though with him such events as those just recorded were of every-day occurrence.

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