Part 28 (1/2)

”He is around for no good purpose,” said Amos Radbury. ”Are all of the mustangs safe?”

”Yes, sah. I'se dun watch dem de whole night, sah.”

”We must keep a watch to-night, too, and to-morrow we can go on a hunt and see if he is hiding anywhere near.”

In honour of the home-coming, Pompey, as tired as he was, spread a generous table, and all sat around this for several hours, eating, drinking, and discussing the situation. The Radburys were glad Poke Stover had accompanied them, for now the frontiersman could help keep guard against the half-breed, should the latter mean mischief.

The next day proved so stormy and cold that the boys were glad to remain indoors. It did not snow, but the rain was a half hail and the wind was of the kind that reaches one's marrow. Only Amos Radbury and Poke Stover went out, to the cattle shed and the nearest range, and they were glad enough to come in long before evening.

”Hank Stiger won't stir around much in this weather,” observed Mr.

Radbury, as he shook the water from his greatcoat. ”He's too much afraid of himself.”

”Yes, but he'll want shelter somewhere,” said Ralph.

”Perhaps he has gone after the Comanches,” said Dan. ”He may have been just on a journey when Pompey saw him.”

So the talk ran on, but nothing came of it. That night, completely tired out, all retired early. Just before he went to bed Dan looked out of the window and saw that it was clearing off, and that the stars were trying to break through the clouds.

Down in a corner of the cattle shed rested a small keg of powder which Amos Radbury had brought home from Gonzales, for his stock of this article had run low. As Dan lay in bed he could not get this keg of powder out of his head.

”I hope it didn't get wet,” he thought. ”But surely father must have covered it up with great care.”

For thinking of the keg, Dan could not get to sleep, and at last he arose and walked out into the living-apartment of the cabin. Here, in the middle of the floor, he came to a sudden standstill, as a noise outside reached his ears.

What the noise came from he could not determine. First there was a slight b.u.mp, and then a rolling sound, and then he heard a scratching, as of steel upon flint.

”I'm going to investigate this,” he said to himself, and, catching up his gun, he ran to the door and threw it open.

What he saw surprised him beyond measure. There, in the darkness, stood Hank Stiger. The half-breed had a bit of lighted tinder in his hand, and at his feet lay the keg of powder with a long fuse attached to the open bung-hole!

CHAPTER XXV.

MARCH OF SANTA ANNA INTO TEXAS.

”You rascal! Get back, or I'll shoot!”

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'YOU RASCAL! GET BACK, OR I'LL SHOOT!'”]

Such were the words which burst from Dan's lips as soon as he recovered sufficiently from his surprise to speak.

But Hank Stiger was already retreating, carrying the lighted tinder in his hand. He could not make out who was there, but saw it was somebody with a gun, and the sight of the weapon was enough for him.

”What's up?” came from Poke Stover, who had been snoring in the corner, and the old frontiersman scrambled to his feet and joined Dan at the doorway.

”There goes Hank Stiger! He was going to blow up the cabin with our keg of gunpowder.”

”Can it be possible! I'll stop him.” Stover ran outside. ”Stop, Hank Stiger, or you're a dead man!” he called out, loudly.

But the half-breed was now running like a deer and paid no attention to the words. Taking hasty but careful aim at Stiger's legs, Poke Stover pulled the trigger of his gun.