Part 24 (1/2)

Mr. Lane then gave a long account of the work in which he had been engaged. It seems that the men who followed Simpson on the morning after the celebration of the victory of New Orleans saw nothing extraordinary in his actions. Afterwards, however, when talking about the matter, they wondered why he had abandoned his team. Certainly, he thought that he was pursued. He made every effort to escape his pursuers. Finding it impossible, he leaped from his wagon and fled into the woods. What could be the cause of these strange proceedings? After considering the matter for some time, they concluded that there was but one--the man was delivering illicit whisky. He was frightened when he saw the men coming in full gallop after him, and saved himself by flight. This explained everything fully; without it his whole action was a mystery. The sheriff was made aware of the facts by one who hoped to receive a reward in case of an arrest.

To track the man and his accomplices seemed to be an easy task; for, if once the wagon was found, the owner could be identified. A plain case--so plain to Mr. Lane's mind that he started at once for Bardstown without asking any a.s.sistance. The wagon and team, however, as has been seen, had been stolen. After a fruitless effort of two days' the inexperienced sheriff called others to his aid; but with all their prying and probing, no clue to the mystery could be found. The case was finally abandoned. Mr. Lane was returning home.

For more than an hour Mr. Grundy listened to the recital of these events, interrupting the speaker at intervals, explaining how he would have acted under the circ.u.mstances, suggesting methods which might still prove successful, and giving much wholesome advice which might prove of service to the sheriff in his future official career. While they were still conversing, the stage descended a steep grade into a ravine, over which the ma.s.sive forest trees interlaced their branches, forming a gloomy and perpetual twilight.

There was one apartment in the cave with which the reader has not yet been made familiar. Jerry gave it the name of the ”hold out,” for here it was that he and Stayford spent most of their time. The ”hold out”

enjoyed the luxury of a gla.s.s window of no mean dimensions, being the only part of the cave which received the light of the sun. The main entrance to the cave, as has already been seen, faced the river toward the south; the ledge of rocks came to an abrupt termination about forty feet farther on toward the west, and it was near this point that the window looked over a wide, deep valley. Jerry accidentally discovered that the rock was very thin at this one place, and by patient care cut through it and admitted the sunlight into the gloomy dwelling. The window was concealed by large grapevines, carefully trained so as to cut off the view from below, without at the same time obstructing the light.

This arrangement enabled the two men to spend days and weeks in their natural abode without once leaving it.

Here it is that we find them busily engaged in their preparations for intercepting the mail. Stayford was sitting upon a bed constructed of roughly hewn branches covered with straw, and was carefully loading his two pistols. Jerry occupied a stool in the middle of the ”hold out,”

adjusting a mask made of deer-skin.

”How's that?” he inquired, when the mask had been arranged to his satisfaction.

”Improves your looks very much,” replied Stayford; ”advise you to wear one all the time.”

”And how's that?” again inquired Jerry, turning his coat inside out and pulling his hat down over his eyes.

”Still improved.”

”And how's that?” he asked a third time, securing his heavy pistols around his waist and hanging a keen hunting knife at his left side.

”Why, old fellow, it looks as if you were going to fight.”

”No; I ain't goin' to fight n.o.body. I ain't goin' to kill n.o.body. I won't steal nothin' but mail. We'll just see if thare's a letter for Squire Grundy; and if thare ain't, well, we'll let the mail go, and the stage go.”

”You are right, Jerry; we won't take a cent. Robbing and stealing are not in our line. We'll leave that kind of work to such men as Tom the Tinker.”

When their preparations were completed the two men left the cave for their hazardous adventure.

CHAPTER XXII.

MR. LANE FINDS A SOLUTION TO HIS DIFFICULTY.

”Here, Bounce! Here Bounce!” called Owen in a loud voice as he rushed from the house, rifle in hand, crossed the barnyard, and ran at full speed toward a strip of woods which joined with the forest. ”Here, Bounce!” he continued to call, looking back now and then to see whether the dog was following. But Bounce was in the field with the negro workmen, too far away to hear the voice of his master.

At the edge of the woods Owen found the mangled body of a young lamb.

Glancing down a narrow ravine, he saw a wildcat disappear in the thick underbrush not two hundred yards away. This was the marauder for which the boy was looking. It had stolen into the sheep-fold and made off with a lamb in the full light of day.

Owen gave one more anxious look to see whether Bounce was near, then turned and plunged into the woods in pursuit of the bold robber. He shouted as he ran, hoping thereby to frighten the wildcat and force it to climb a tree, when it would be an easy mark for his rifle. But the cat was too experienced a thief to be entrapped so easily. Had Bounce been there he would have driven it into the position Owen wished it. The boy, however, moved too slowly to bring it to bay. For an instant he saw its long, lithe body as the animal leaped upon the trunk of a fallen sycamore, gave a piteous cry and then disappeared again farther down in the ravine.

To run after it or to shout would only terrify it the more. Owen therefore changed his tactics. He left the ravine and walked slowly along the hillside for nearly a mile, pausing every few minutes to examine the tops of the trees, especially those of the tall poplars which seemed to offer a safe hiding place. The pursuit was brought to an abrupt termination by a steep cliff which overlooked the old stage road.

A dark object was seen moving among the brush just below him. The boy raised his rifle in readiness to fire, but the undergrowth was so thick that he could not see distinctly. He changed his position and looked again; it was not a wildcat. But what could the object be? A goat? No; there was not one in the neighborhood; besides, the head was more than five feet from the ground. Further inspection showed that the object was a man. Two were there, partly concealed by the bushes. They had masks of rough deer-skin pulled over their faces. This it was that gave the first one the appearance of a goat.

But what were these two men waiting for? Why had they concealed themselves here so close to the road? After a moment's reflection Owen concluded that they intended to rob the stage. They could certainly have chosen no better spot, as it was fully a mile away from the nearest farmhouse and in a place where the stage would necessarily move slowly.

The men were well armed; they had posted themselves, too, within ten feet of the road, where they could both spring forward in front of the stage.