Part 7 (2/2)
The outlaw and his captive crossed the brook, and the former, after a few minutes' examination of the ground about the fire, struck the b.u.t.t of his rifle with his fist, and opened his eyes in great amazement.
”It's the feller that run the foot-race yesterday, as sartin as I'm alive,” said he, in a tone of voice which indicated that he did not understand the matter at all; ”an' I'd like to know how he come here.
The last time I seed him he was a prisoner in the chief's lodge, an'
thar were two Injuns guardin' him. See them shoe-prints on the bank of the brook? Thar's where he stood when he ketched them fish. An' here's the pole he used, too. He was layin' on the gra.s.s beside that rock, an'
when he heered us comin', he run off.”
”Which was a lucky thing for him,” observed Adam.
”Wal, I don't reckon it will do him any good,” replied the outlaw; ”'cause arter we eat these yere fish of his'n, we'll hunt him up. If we don't find him, some of the Injuns will, most likely; an' even if he aint ketched at all, how much better off is he than he would be with the chief? Thar aint nothing left of Fort Stockton, an' he can't find no friends short of Fort Benton, an' that's a good hundred miles from here.”
Frank was lying in the bushes, not more than twenty feet from the outlaw, and distinctly heard every word of the conversation. The information he gained from it destroyed his last hope. The savages had made the attack upon the trading-post during the previous night, and it had been successful. The soldiers and trappers were all ma.s.sacred or scattered to the four winds of heaven, and he had no friends to look to for a.s.sistance within less than a hundred miles. The prospect before him was certainly most discouraging, but he could not dwell upon it then, for he had other matters to think of. He was in close proximity to a dangerous enemy, and how was he to elude him? This question was answered by the outlaw himself, whose actions suggested to Frank another daring project, which he was prompt to carry into execution. Black Bill laid his rifle upon the ground, and kneeled down beside the brook to drink.
Scarcely had he taken a swallow of the water, when he heard footsteps behind him, and upon looking up saw Frank standing over him with his bow in his hand, and an arrow pointed straight at his breast.
”Don't move hand or foot,” said the young hunter, so excited that he could scarcely speak. ”Your game is up.”
Adam was no less astonished at Frank's sudden appearance than was the outlaw; but he quickly recovered his presence of mind, and catching up his captor's rifle, leveled it full at his head.
”Surrender, Black Bill!” he exclaimed. ”If you attempt to get up I'll send a ball into you.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: CAPTURE OF BLACK BILL BY FRANK AND ADAM BRENT]
The looks of the weapons were enough to frighten the outlaw into submission. He made no remark, but it was easy enough to see that he was not brave enough to think seriously of attempting resistance.
”Now, Adam,” said Frank, ”keep him covered with your rifle, and if he shows fight, bang away. I'll soon put it out of his power to do any mischief.”
As Frank spoke he produced his fish-line from his pocket, and after doubling it two or three times, pa.s.sed it around the outlaw's wrists, and tied it securely. The latter, at first, showed a disposition to be ugly, and resisted Frank's efforts to bring his hands behind his back; but the expression he saw on the face of Adam Brent, as he c.o.c.ked the rifle, and placed its cold muzzle against his temple, quickly brought him to terms. Frank handled the fish-line skilfully, and in a few minutes the outlaw was as helpless as though he had been in irons.
”There!” said Adam; ”he is all right, and so am I. I feel a little more at ease than I did ten minutes ago. What's to be done now?”
”The first think is breakfast,” replied Frank. ”Here are three trout--one apiece; and although they are hardly enough to make a meal for one hungry man, we can't catch any more, for my fish-line is in use.
Help yourself. I'll feed Black Bill, if he wants any thing to eat. By the way, is this man what he claims to be?”
”I suppose he is my uncle,” answered Adam; ”but he doesn't act like it, does he? He has kept me a prisoner for ten years; or, it amounts to the same thing, for I could scarcely go out of the house, unless accompanied by my father. That is the story I promised to tell you, and I will relate it now while we are resting and eating our breakfast. Then I will tell you what happened last night at the fort.”
”Black Bill, if you want me to feed you, come here,” said Frank.
”Chaw your own grub,” was the gruff response.
”All right. If you get hungry before night, you will know who to blame.”
The boys, leaving the outlaw sitting sullenly on the bank of the brook, stretched themselves on the gra.s.s near the fire, with their weapons close at their side, and Adam began his story.
CHAPTER IX.
ADAM BRENT'S STORY.
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