IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) & Q.^ '<^.'^&^ i?- C-?, % 1.0 I.I 1.25 !!!IM IIIIM itt i^ i||M '""^^ ^^ 112.0 111= 1-4 III 1.6 6' V] <^ /a e. id, beginning to haul with all his might on the line which he had brought from shore. " You 're the skipper — eh ? " "Yes. Don't waste your breath in speech. 1 know what to do. All 's ready." These few words were an unspeakable relief to our hero, who was well aware that the working of OF THE SEA AND THE R0CKIE8. 29 the rocket apparatus required a slight amount of knowledge, and who felt from his manner and tone that the skipper was a thorough man. He glanced upwards as he hauled in the line, assisted by his companion, and saw that a stout rope with two loops on it had been fixed to the stump of the mast. Just as he '".oted this with satisfaction a large block with a thin line rove through it emerged from the boiling sea. It had been attached by the men on shore to the rocket line which Charlie had been hauling out with so much energy. Its name was indicated by the skipper. " Here comes the whip," he cried, catching hold of the block when it reached him. " Hold me up, lad, while I make it fast to them loops." While Charlie obeyed he saw that by fixing the tail-lines of the block quickly to the loops prepared for them, instead of winding them round the mast, — a difficult process in such a sea — much time was saved. " There, our part o' the job is done now," said the skipper, pulling off his sou'westei as he spoke and holding it up as a signal to the men on shore. Meanwhile those to whom he signalled had been watching every movement with intense eagerness, and with the expressions of men whose gaze ha? to penetrate with difficulty through a haze of blinding spray. " Tliey 've got the block now," cried one man. 30 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE: A TALE " Does that young feller know about fixin' of it ? " asked another. " Clap a stopper on your mugs ; they 're a-fixin' of it now," said old Grinder. " There 's the signal ! Haul away, lads ! " We must explain here that the "whip" above mentioned was a double or endless line, passing through the block which had been hauled out to the wreck by our hero. By means of this whip one end of a stout cable was sent off to the wreck, and on this cable a sling- lifebuoy was hung to a pulley and also run out to the wreck. The working of the apparatus, though simple enough to seamen, would entail a complicated, perhaps incomprehensible, description to landsmen : we therefore pass it by with the remark that, con- nection with the shore having been established, and the sling -lifebuoy — or life-saving machine — run out, the crew received it with what was meant for a hearty cheer, but which exhaustion modified to a feeble shout. " Now, lads," cried the skipper to his men, " look sharp ! Let out the passengers." " Passengers ? " exclaimed Charlie Brooke in surprise. " Ay — my wife an' little gurl, two women and an old gentleman. You don't suppose I 'd keep 'em on deck to be washed overboard ? " As he spoke two of the men opened tlie doors of V¥ THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 31 the coinpaiiiou-liatch, and caiiglit hold of a little girl of about five years of age, wlio was handed up by n woman. " Stay ! keep her under cover till I get hold of her," cried the skipper. As he was passing from the mast to the com- panion a lieavy sea burst over the bulwarks, and swept him into the scuppers. The same wave wrenched the child from the grasp of the man who held it and carried it right overboard. Like an eel, rather than a man, Charlie cleft the foam close behind her, caught her by the skirt and bore her to the surface, when a few strokes of his free arm brought him close under the lee of the wreck just in time to prevent the agonised father from leaping after his child. There was terrible suspense for a few minutes. At one moment our hero, with his burden held high aloft, was far down in the hollow of the watery turmoil, with the black hull like a great wall rising above him, while the skipper in the main-chains, pale as death but sternly silent, held on with his left hand and reached down witli his right — every finger rigid and ready! Next moment a water-spout, so to speak, bore the rescuer upward on its crest, but not near enough — they went downward again. Once more the leaping water surged upwards; the skipper's strong hand closed like the grip of death on the dress, and the child was safe while its rescuer sank awny from it. 32 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE " Help him ! " shouted the skipper, as he staggered to the shelter of the companion. But Charlie required no help. A loose rope hanging over the side caught his eye : he seized it and was on deck again in a few seconds. A minute later and he was down in the cabin. There, terror-stricken, sat the skipper's wife, never venturing to move, because she had been told to remain there till called. Happily she knew nothing of the incident just described. Beside her sat the other women, and, near to them, a stern old gentleman, who, with compressed lips, quietly awaited orders. " Come, quick ! " said Charlie, grasping by the arm one of the women. . It was the skipper's wife. She jumped up right willingly and went on deck. There she found her child already in the life-buoy, and was instantly lifted in beside it by her husband, who looked hastily round. " Come here, Dick," he said to a little cabin-boy who clung to a stanchion near by. " Get in." Tlie boy looked surprised, and drew back. " Get in, I say," repeated the skipper sternly. " There 's more women, sir," said the boy, still holding back. " True — brave lad ! but you 're wanted to keep these from getting washed out. I am too heavy, you know." SB OF THE SEA AND THE FvOCKIES. 33 The boy hesitated no longer. He squeezed him- self into the machine beside the woman and child. Then up at arm's-length went the skipper's sou'- wester as a signal that all was ready, and the fisher- men began to haul the life-buoy to the shore. It was an awful trip ! Part of the distance, indeed, the trio were borne along well out of the sea, though the waves leaped hungrily up and sent spray over them, but as they drew near the shore they were dipped again and again into the foam, so that tlie little cabin boy needed all his energy and knowledge, as well as his bravery and strength, to prevent his charge being washed out. Amid ring- ing cheers from the fishermen — and a treble echo from the women behind tiie wall — they were at last safely landed. "My lass, that friend o' your'n be a braave cheeld," said an old woman to May Leather, who crouched beside her. " Ay, that he is ! " exclaimed May, with a gush of enthusiasm in tone and eyes that made them all turn to look at her. "Your brother?" asked a handsome, strapping young woman. " No— I wish he was !" " Hni ! ha ! " exclaimed the strapping young woman — whereat there was exchanged a signifi- cant laugh ; but May took no notice of it, being too 34 CIIAKLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE (I It >< deeply engrossed with the proceedings on shore and sea. Again tlie fishermen ran out the life-buoy and soon hauled it back with another woman ; then a third. After that came the old gentleman, quite self-possessed and calm, though very pale and di- sheveled ; and, following him, the crew, one by one, were rescued. Then came the hero of the hour, and last of all, as in duty bound, the skipper — not much too soon, for he had barely reached the land when the brig was overwhelmed and engulfed in the ragjinti; sea. OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES, 35 CIIAPTEE III. "it's an jll wind that blaws naebody guid." That mnny if not most names have originated in the character or condition of individuals seems obvious, else why is it that so many people take after their names ? We have no desire to ar> protbiuitl sagaciL} in your ubservatious," returned Charlie, as he gave the gum a squeeze that for a moment or two removed the comfort; " there, now, don't suck it, else you'll renew tl.o bleeding. Keep your mouth shut." With this caution the amateur dentist left the cabin, and proceeded to the fore-part of the vessel. In passing tlie steward's pantry a youthful voice arrested him. " Oh, please, sir," said Will Ward, the cabin-boy, advancing with a slate in his hand, " 1 can't make out the sum you set me yesterday, an' 1 'm quite sure I 've tried and tried as hard as ever I could to understand it." "Let me see," said his friend, taking the slate and sitting down on a iocker. "Have you read over the rule carefully ? '* "Yes, sir, I have, a dozen limes at least, but it won't come right," answered the boy, with wrinkles enough on his young brow to indicate the very depths of puzzlement. " Fetch the book. Will, and let 's examine it." The book was brought, and at his teacher's re- i[uest the boy read : — "Add the inte?'est to the principal, and then multiply by " "Multiply]" said Charlie, interrupting. "Look!" He pointed to the sum on the slate, and repeated " multiply." II i fJF THE SKA AND THE ROCKIEi^. 71 " Oh ! " exclaimed the cabin-boy, with a gasp of relief and wide-open eyes, " I 've divided ! " " That 's so, Will, and there 's a considerable differ- ence between division and multiplication, as you '11 find all through life," remarked the teacher, with a peculiar lift of his eyebrows, as he handed back the slate and went on his way. More than once in his progress " fur'ard " he was arrested by men who wished him to give advice, or clear up difficulties in reference lo subjects which his encouragement or example had induced them to ' take up, and to these claims on his attention or assistance he accorded such a ready and cheerful response that his pupils felt it to be a positive pleasure to appeal to him, though they each pro- fessed to regret giving him " trouble." The boat- swain, who was an amiable though gruff man in his way, expressed pretty well the feelings of the ship's "•ompany towards our hero when he said : " I tell you, mates, I 'd sooner be rubbed up the wrong way, an' kicked down the fore hatch by Mr. Brooke, than T 'd be smoothed or buttered by anybody else." At last the fo'c'sl was reached, and there our surgeon fpurid his patient, Dick Darvall, awaiting him. The stout seaman's leg had been severely bruised by a block which had fallen from aloft and struck it during one of the recent gales. " A good deal better to-day," said Charlie. " Does it paia you much?" m ■^"■f\-^bLiiii,iii>AJf\^^Si*iSiLUa-- ^ii£Mtaa^lfiitfiiAli:^tMViy--iii.v*y!,^-x.k^'- 72 CHAltLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE ! 'i ,_. i " Not nearly as miicli as it did yesterday, sir. It 's my opinion that I '11 be all right in a day or two. Seems to me outrageous to make so much ado about it." "If we didn't take care of it, my man, it might cost you your limb, and we can't afford to bury such a well-made member before its time! You must give it perfect rest for a day or two. I '11 speak to the captain about it." " I 'd rather you didn't, sir," objected the seaman. " I feel able enough tc go about, and my mates '11 think I 'm shirkin' dooty." *-' There 's not a man a- board as '11 think that o' Dick Darvall," growled the boatswain, who had just entered and heard tlie last remark. " Eight, bo's'n," said Brooke, " you have well ex- pressed the thought that came into n^y own head." "Have ye seen Samson yet, sir?" asked the boatswain, with an unusually grave look. " No ; I was just going to inquire about him. No v.'orse; T hope ? " " I think he is, sir. Seems to me that he ain't long for this world. The life's bin too much for him : he never was cut out for a sailor, an' he takes things so much to heart that I do believe worry is doin' more than work to drive him on the rocks." " I '11 go and see him at once," said our hero. Fred Samson, the sick man referred to, had been put into a swing-cot in a berth amidships to give OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIER. 73 I't jr les is ni liim as mucli rest as possible. To all appearance he was slowly dying of consumption. When Brooke entered he was leaning on one elbow, gazing wist- fully through the port-hole close to his head. His countenance, on which the stamp of death was evidently imprinted, wa,s unusually refined for one in his station in life. " I 'm glad you have come, Mr. Brooke," he said slowly, as his visitor advanced and took his thin hand. " My poor fellow," said Charlie, in a tone of low but tender sympathy, " I wish with all my heart T could do you an/ good." " The sight of your kind face does me good/' returned the sailor, with a pause for breath between almost every other word. " I don't want you to doctor me any more. I feel that I 'm past that, but I want to give you a message and a packet for my mother. Of course you will be in London when you return to England. "Will you find her out and deliver the packet ? It contains only the Testament she gave me at parting and a letter." "My dear fellow — you may depend on me," replied Brooke earnestly. "Where does she live?" "In Whitechapel. The full address is on the packet. The letter enclosed tells all that I have to say." " But you spoke of a message,' said Brooke, seeing that he paused and shut his eyes. farwmmmmmsmmsmsBBBMSi II HB 74 CIIARLIK TO THE KERCUK : A TALE I; i UV In " Yes, yes," returned tlie dying man eagerly, " I forgot. Crive Iip^ my dear love, and say that my last thoughts were of herself and God. She always feared that I was trusting too much in myself — in my own good resolutions and reformation ; so I have been — but that's pas^. Tell her that God in His mercy has snapped that broken reed altogether, and enabled me to rest n:y soul on .Tpjus." As the dying man was much exhausted by his efforts to speak, his visitor refrained from asking more questions. He merely whispered a comforting text of Scripture and left him apparently sinking into a state of repose. Then, having bandaged the linger of a man who had carelessly cut himself whil^ using his knife aloft, Charlie returned to the cabin to continue an interrupted discussion with the first mate on the subject of astronomy. From all which it will be seen thai our hero's tendencies inclined him to be as much as possible '* all thinjrs to all men." 'W OF THE SEA AND THE RUCKIES. 76 CHAPTER VI. niSASTKR, STARVATION, AND DKATH. The least observant of mortals must liave frequently been impressed with the fact that events and incidents of an apparently trifling description often lead to momentous — sometimes tremendous — results. Soon after the occurrence of the incidents referred to in the last chapter, a colony of busy workers in thd Pacific Ocean were drawing towards the com- pletion of a building on which they had been engaged for a long time. Like some' lighthouses this building had its foundations on a rock at the bottom of the sea. Steadily, perseveringly, and with little cessation, the workers had toiled for years. They were small insignificant creatures, each being bent on simply performing the little bit of work which he, she, or it had been created to do probably v/ithout knowing or caring what the result might be, and then ending his, her, or its modest labours with life, It was when this marine build- ina- had risen to within eight or ten feet of the 70 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE surface of the sea that the Walrus chanced to draw near to it, but no one on board was aware of the existence of that coral-reef, for up to the period we write of it had failed to attract the attention of chart -makers. The vessel was bowling along at a moderate rate over a calm sea, for the light breeze overhead that failed to ruffle the water filled her topsails. Had the wind been stormy a line of breakers would have indicated the dangerous reef. As it was there was nothing to tell that the good ship was rushing on her doom till she struck with a violent shock and remained fast. Of course Captain Stride was equal to the emer- gency. By the quiet decision with which he went about and gave his orders he calmed the fears of such of his crew as were apt to " lose their heads " in the midst of sudden catastrophe. " Lower away the boats, lads. We '11 get her off right away," he said, in a quick but quiet tone. Charlie Brooke, being a strong believer in strict discipline, at once ran to obey the order, accom- panied by the most active among the men, while others ran to slack off the sheets and lower the topsails. In a few minutes nearly all the men were in the boats, with hawsers fixed to the stern of the vessel, doing their uttermost to pull her off. OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 77 the ^ssel, ChaT-lie had been ordered to remoiu on deck when the crew took to the boats. " Come here, Mr. Brooke, I want you," said the Captain, leading his young friend to the taffrail. " It 's pretty clear to me that the poor old Walrus is done for " "I sincerely hope not, sir," said Charlie, with anxious looks. "A short time will settle the question," re- turned the Captain, with unwonted gravity. " If she don't move in a few minutes, I'll try what heaving out some o* the cargo will do. As super- cargo, you know where it 's all stowed, so, if you '11 pint out to me which is the least valooable, an' at the same time heaviest part of it, I '11 send the mate and four men to git it on deck. But to tell you the truth even if we do git her off I don't think she '11 Hoat. She's an oldish craft, not fit to have her bottom rasped on coral rocks. But we'll soon see." Charlie could not help observing that there was something peculiarly sad in the tone of the old man's voice. Whether it was that the poor captain knew the case to be utterly hopeless, or that he was overwhelmed by this calamity coming upon him so soon after the wreck of liis last ship, Charlie could not tell, but he had no time to think, for after he had pointed out to the mate the bales that could be most easily spared he was again summoned aft. .c:,i£-,v>i?,idffi.iiaiiiV';\i4'w 78 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE "She don't move," said the captain, gloomily. " We must git the boats ready, for if it comes on to blow only a little harder we '11 have to take to 'em. So do you and the stooard putt your heads together an' git up as much provisions as you think thu boats will safely carry. Only necessaries, of course, an' take plenty o' water. I '11 see to it that charts, compasses, canvas, and other odds and ends are ready.". Again young Brooke went off, without saying a word, to carry out his instructions. Meanwhile one of the boats was recalled, and her crew set to lighten the ship by heaving part of the cargo overboard. Still the Walrvs remained immovable on the reef, for the force witli which she struck had sent her high upon it. " If we have to take to the boats, sir," said Charlie, when he was disengaged, " it may be well to put some medicines on board, for poor Samson will " " Ay, ay, do so, lad," said the captain, interrupt- ing ; " I 've been thinkin' o' that, an' you may as well rig up some sort o' couch for the poor fellow in the long-boat, for I mean to take him nloiig wi' myself." " Are yo'i so sure, then, that there is no chance of our getting her off?" "Quite sure. Look there." He pointed, as he spoke, to the horizon to windward, where a line of cloud rested on the sea. That'll not be long o' t-ismmmiisi^miimiMmMSMss..s^BmtitM*iiM^-^>,.^i:::^u^.y: OF THE SEA AND THE l{OrKIES. 79 wi ■(' 01 ooiniii' here. It wou't blow very hard, but it 11 be hard enough to smash the old Walrus to bits. If you 've got any valooables aboard tliat you 'd rather not lose, you 'd better stuff 'em in your pockets now. When things come to the wust mind your helm, an' look out, as I used to say to my missus " He stopped id)ru])tly and turned away. Evidently tlie thouglit of the " missus " was too much for him just then. Charlie Brooke liurried off to visit the sick man, and prepare him for the sad change in his position that had now become unavoidable. But another visitor had been to see the invalid before him. Entering the berth softly, and witli a quiet look, so as not to agitate the patient needlessly, he found to his regret, thougli not surprise, that poor Fred Sam- son was dead. There was a smile on the pale face, which was turned towards the port window, as if the dying man had been taking a last look of the sea and sky when Deatli laid a liand gently on his brow and smootlied away the wrinkles of suffering and care. A letter from his mother, held tightly in one hand and pressed upon liis breast told elo- quently what was the subject of his last thoughts. Charlie cut a lock of hair from the sailor's brow with his clasp-kiiife, and, taking the letter gently from the dead hand, wrapped it therein. " There 's no time to bury him now. His berth must be the poor fellow's coffin," said Captain Stride, ii. i 80 CUAIILTE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE i' when the death was reported to hiin. " The swell o' the coming squall has reached iis already. Look alive wi' the boats, men ! ' By that time the rising swell was in truth lifting the vessel every few seconds and letting her down with a soft thud on the coral reef. It soon became evident to every one on board that the Walrus had not many hours to live — perhaps not many minutes — for the squall to which the Captain had referred was rapidly bearing down, and each successive thud became more violent than the previous one. Know- ing their danger full well, the men worked with a will and in a few minutes three boats, well pro- visioned, were floating on the sea. The need for haste soon became apparent, for the depth of water alongside was so insufficient that the long-boat — drawing as she did considerably more water than the others —touched twice when the swells let her drop into their hollows. It was arranged that Charlie should go in the long-boat with the captain, Eaywood the passenger, and ten men of the crew. The remainder were to be divided between the other two boats which were to be in charge of the first and second officers respectively. " Jump in, Brooke," cried the Captain, as he sat in the stern-sheets looking up at our hero, who was busily engaged assisting the first mate to com- plete the arrangements of his boat, " we 've strucK !■. !:.(:. r..i.. L;.t:it^i:inarjUfjuij (U.T«^-i:iij4-.fifJivfjr.fr.(rm7grJ7y.g(JfD7ffrr^ OF TIIK SKA AXIi IIIE JJOGKIKS. 81 twice already. I rmist shove off. Is lIay^vo()ll ready ? " "He 'sin tlin cabin looking for sonieLliiiig, sir; I '11 run and fetch him." "Stay! We've touched again!" shouted the Captain. '" You an' liaywood can come off with one o' the other boats. 1 '11 take you on board when in deep water — shove ofl', lads." "Jump in with me, sir," said the tirst mate, as he hastily descended the side. "Come along, liay wood," shouted Charlie, as he followed. " No time to lose ! " The passenger rushed on deck, scrambled down the side, and took his seat beside Charlie, just as the long threatened S([uall burst upon them. The painter was cut, and they drifted into deep water with the second mate's boat, which had alreadv cast off. I'ortunate was it for the whole crew that Captain Stride had provided for every emergency, and that, among other safeguards, he had put several tarpau- lins into each boat, for with these they were enabled to form a coverinL-' which turned off the waves and prevented their being swamped. The squall turned out to be a very severe one, and in the midst of it the three boats were so far separated that the prospect of their being able to draw together again until evening was very remote. Indeed the waves soon ran so high that it rcc^uircd F '«UraQ!.iC«BK! K:irSimSt- v>. ^^^ w. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) / o .<° MP . the utmost attention of each steersniiin to keep his craft afloat, and when at last the light began to fade the boats were almost out of sight of eaca other. " Nr chance, I fear, of our ever meeting again," remarked the mate, as he cast a wistful look at the southern horizon where the sail of the long-boat could be barely seen like the wing of a. sea-gull. "Your lot has been cast with us, Mr. Brooke, so you '11 have to make the best of it." " I always try to make the best of things," replied Charlie. " My chief regret at present is that Eay- wood and I, being two extra hands, will help to consume your provisions too fast." " Luckily my appetite is a poor one," said Kay- wood, with a faint smile ; " and it 's not likely to improve in the circumstant es."' " I 'm not so sure o' that, sir," returned the mate, with an air that was meant to be reassuring ; " fresh air and exposure have effected wonders before now in the matter of health — so they say. Another pull on the halyards, Dick ; that looks like a fresh squall. IMind your sheets. Will Ward." A prompt " Ay, ay, sir " from Dick Darvall and the cabin-boy showed that each was alive to the importance of the duty required of him, while the other men — of whom there were six — busied them- selves in making the tarpaulin coverings more secure, or in baling out the water which, in spite of them, had found its way into the boat. OF THE SEA AND THE KOCKIES. 83 Charlie rose and seated himself on the thwart beside the fine-looking seaman Dick Da^vall, so as to have a clearer view ahead nnder the sail. "Long-boat nowhere to be seen now," he mur- mured half to himself after a long look. " No, sir— nor the other boat either," said Darvall in a quiet voice. "We shall never see 'em no more." "I hope you are wrong," returned Charlie ; "in- deed I feel sure that the weather will clear duriiiir the night, and that we sliall find both boats becalmed not far off." " Maybe so, sir," rejoined the sailor, in the tone of one willing to be, but not yet, convinced. Our hero was right as to the first, but not as to tlie second, point. The weather did clear during the night, but when the sun arose next morning on a comparatively calm sea neither of the other boats was to be seen. In fact every object that could arrest the eye had vanished from the scene, leaving only a great circular shield of blue, of which their tiny craft formed the centre. 1 J t 1 ] i ; i 84 CIIAULIE TO THE KESCUK : A TALE lit . .:i CHATTEK VII. ADRIFT ON THK SKA. "You are ill, Will Ward," was Dick Darvall's first remark when there was sufficient daylight to distinguish faces. "You're another!" was the cabin-boy's quick, facetious retort, which caused Darvall to smile aiitl had the effect of rousin^r the halt-sleeping crew. "But you are ill, my boy," repeated the seaman earnestly. "No, Dick, not exactly ill," returned Will, with a faint smile, " but T 'm queer." Each man had spent that stormy night on the particular thwart on which he had chanced to sit down when he first entered the boat, so that all were looking more or less weary, but seamen are used to uncomfortable and interrujjted slumbers. They soon roused themselves and began to look about and make a few comments on the weather. Some, re- curring naturally to their beloved indulgence, pulled out their pipes and filled them. "Have 'ee a light, Jim ? " asked a rugged man, in a sleepy tone, of a comrade behind him. OF THE SEA AND THE HOOKIES. 85 " No, Jack, I haven't," answered Jim, in u less sleepy tone, slapping nil his pockets and thrnstiiig his jiands into them. " Have you, Dick ? " asked the rugged man in some anxiety. "No, I haven't," replied Darvall, in a very serious voice, as he also took to slapping his pockets ; " no — nor baccy ! " It was curious to note at this point how every seaman in that boat became suddenly sympathetic and wide awake, and took to hasty, anxious examina- tion of all his pockets — vest. Jacket, and trousers. The result was the discovery of a good many clay pipes, more or less blackened and shortened, with a few plugs of tobacco, but not a single match, either fusee or congreve. The men looked at each other with something akin to despair. " Was no matches putt on board wi' the grub an' other things ?" asked Jim in a solemn tone. "And no tobacco?" inquired the mate. No one could ansv/er in the affirmative. A general sigh — like a miniature squall — burst from the sailors, and relieved them a little. Jim put his pipe between his lips, and meekly began, if we may say so, to smoke his tobacco dry. At an order from the mate the men got out the oars and began to pull, for there was barely enough wind to fill the sail. " No rest for us, lads, 'cept when it blows," said '» 86 CHARLIE TO TIIK RESCUE : A TALE 'I B l« the mate. " The nearest laud tliat I know of is five hundred miles oif as the crow flies. We've got a compass by good luck, so we can make for it, but the grub on board won't hold out for quarter o' that distance, so, unless we fall in with a ship, or fish jump aboard of us, ye know what 's before us." " Have we any spirits aboard?" asked the rugged man, in a growling, somewhat sulky, voice. " Hear — hear !" exclaimed Jim. " No, Jack," returned the mate ; " at least not for the purpose o' lettin' you have ' a short life an' a merry one.' Now, look here, men : it has pleased Providence to putt you an' me in something of a fix, and I shouldn't wonder if we was to have some stiffish experiences before we see the end of it. It has also pleased Providence to putt me here in command. You know I'm not given to boastin', but there are times when it is advisable to have plain speakin'. There is a small supply of spirits aboard, and I just want to tell 'ee — merely as a piece of useful information, and to prevent any chance o' future trouble — that as I've got charge o' them spirits I mean to keep charge of 'em." The mate spoke in a low, soft voice, without the slightest appearance of threat or determination in his manner, but as he concluded he unbuttoned his pilot-cloth coat, and pointed to the butt of a revolver which protruded from one of his vest pockets. The men made no reply, but instinctively glanced OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 87 at the two biggest and strongest men in the boat. These were Charlie Brooke and Dick Darvall. Obviously, before committing themselves further, they wished, if possible, to read in the faces of these two what they thought of the mate's speech. They failed to read much, if anything at all, for Charlie's eyes were fixed in dreamy expressionless abstraction on the horizon, and Dick was gazing up into the clouds, with a look of intense benignity — suggesting that he was holding pleasant intercourse with any celestial creatures who might be resident there. Without a word the whole crew bent to their oars, and resigned themselves to the inevitable. Perhaps if each man had expressed his true feelings at that moment he would have said that he was glad to know there was a firm hand at the helm. For there ar(^ few things more uncomfortable in any com- munity, large or small, than the absence of disci- pline, or the presence of a weak will in a position of power. " But I say, Will," remarked Darvall, who pulled the stioke-oar, " you really do look ill. Is anything the matter with 'ee V " Nothin', Dick ; 'cept that I 'm tired," answered the cabin-boy. " Breakfast will put that right," said our hero in an encouraging tone. "Let's feel your pulse. Ilm ! Well, might be slower. Come, Captain," he added, giving the mate his new title as he turned to i ■ m 1:11 88 CI I A RL IK TO TIIK KKSCUK : A TALK him, " will you allow mo to pre^icribc l)reaklaRt ibr this patient ?" • " Certainly, JJoctor," returned the mate cheerily. " Come, lads, we '11 all have breakfast together." In a few minutes the biscuit and salt Junk barrels were opened, and the mate measured out au exactly equal proportion of food to each man. Then, following the example of a celebrated commander, and in order to prevent dissatisfaction on the part of any with his portion, he caused one of the men to turn his back on the food, and, pointing to one of the portions said, " Who shall have this ?" "The Doctor, sir," returned the man promptly. The portion was immediately handed to Charlie Brooke amid a general lauiih. Thus every portion was disposed of, and the men sat down to eat in good-humour, in spite of the too evident fact that they liad been at once placed on short allowance, for, when (^ach had finished, he assuredly wished for more, though no one ventured to give expression to the wish. The only exception was the little cabin-boy, who made a brave attempt to eat, l)ut utterly i'ailed at the second mouthful. "Come, Will," said Charlie in a kindly tone, pre- tending to misunderstand the state of matters, " don't try to deceive yourself by prolonging your breakfast. That won't make n.ore of it. See, here, I'm not up to eating much to-day, somehow, so I'll Li'v or THK SEA AND THK HOCKIKS. 89 lie greatly obliged if you will dispose of lialf of miiK? as well as your own. Next time I am hungry, and you are not, I '11 expect yon to do the same." But Will Ward could not be thus induced to eat. He was really ill, and before night was in a high fever. You may be sure that Dr. Brooke, as every one now called him, did his best to help the little sufferer, but, of course, he could do very little, for all the medicines which he hud prepared had been put into the long-boat, and, in a small open boat, with no comf(n'ts, no medicines, and on short allow- ance of food, little could be done, except to give the boy a space of the floor on which to lie, to shield him from spray, and to cover him with blankets. For a week the boat was carried over the sea by a fresh, steady breeze, during which time the sun shone out frequently, so that things seemed not so wretched as one might suppose to the shipwrecked mariners, (^f course the poor cabin-boy was an exception. Although his feverish attack was u slight one he felt very weak and miserable after it. His appetite began to return, however, and it was evident that the short daily allowance would be insufficient for him. When this point was reached Dick Darvall one day, ^vhen rations were being served out, ventured to deliver an opinion. " Captain and mates all," he said, while a sort of bashful smile played upon his sunburnt features, " it do seem to me that we should agree, each man, to r 90 CIUBI.IK TO TIIR KKSCUE : A. TALK i!i ij I give up a share of our rations to little Will Ward, so that he may be able to feed up a bit an* git the better o' this here sickness. We won't feel the want of such a little crumb each, an' he '11 be ever so much the better for it." " Agreed," chorused the men, apparently without exception. "All right, lads," said the mate, while a rare smile lighted up for a moment his usually stern countenance; "when the need for such self-denial comes I '11 call on ye to exercise it, but it ain't called for yet, because I 've been lookin' after the interests o* Will Ward while he 's been ill. Justice, you see, stands first o' the virtues in my mind, an' it 's my opinion that it wouldn't be justice, but something very much the reverse, if we were to rob the poor boy of his victuals just because he couldn't eat them." " Eight you are, sir," interposed Dick Darvall. " Well, then, holdin' these views," continued the mate, " I have put aside Will Ward's share every time the rations were served, so here 's what belongs to him — in this keg for the meat, and this bag for the biscuit — ready for him to fall-to whenever his twist is strong enough." There were marks of hearty approval, mingled with laughter, among the men on hearing this, but they stopped abruptly and listened for more on observing a perplexed look on their leader's face. I I • OF Tllli SEA AND TIIK llOCKIES. 91 " But there's something that puzzles me about it, lads," resumed the mate, " and it is th's, that the grub has somehow accumulated faster than I can account for, considering the smallness o' the addition to the lot erch time." On hearing this the men were a little surprised, but Oharlie Brooke burst into a short laugh. " Wliat!" he exclaimed, "you don't mean to say that the victuals have taken root and begun to grow, do you?" " I don't mean to say anything," returned the mate quietly ; " but I 'm inclined to think a good deal if you've no objection. Doctor." " How d'ee feel now, Will ?" said Charlie, stooping forward at the moment, for he observed that the boy — whose bed was on the floor at his feet — had moved, and was gazing up at him with eyes that seemed to have grown enormously since their owner fell sick. "I feel queer — and — and — I'm inclined to think, too," returned Will in a faint voice. Nothing more was said at that time, for a sudden shift in the wind necessitated a shift of the sail, but Dick Darvall nodded his head significantly, and it came to be understood that " Doctor " Brooke had regularly robbed himself of part of liis meagre allowance in order to increase the store of the cabin- boy. Whether they were right in this conjecture has never been distinctly ascertained. But all I . ' 92 CHAKUK TO TIIK KKSCFK : A TALE iittempL.s to beiielit the boy were soon iii'tei' frustrated, for, wliile life was little more than trembling in tho balance with Will Ward, a gale bnrst npon them which sealed his fate. It was not the rougher motion of tlie boat that did it, for the boy was used to that ; nor the flasliing of the salt spray inbi rd, for his comrades guarded him to some extent from that. During the alarm caused by a wave which nearly sv/amped the boat, two of the crew in their panic seized the Hrst things that came to hand and flung them overboard to pre- vent their sinking, while tlie rest baled with cans and sou'-westers for their lives. The portion of lading thus sacrificed turned out to be tlie staff of life — tlie casks of biscuit and pork ! It was a terrible shock to these unfortunates when the full extent of the calamity was understood, and the firmness of the mate, with a sight of the revolver, alone prevented summary vengeance being executed on the wretched men who had acted so hastily in their blind terror. Only a small keg of biscuit remained to them. This was soon expended, and then the process ol' absolute starvation began. Every nook and cranny of the boat was searched again and again in the hope of something eatable being found, but only a small pot of lard — intended probably to grease the tackling — was discovered. With a dreadful expres- sion in their eyes some of the men glared at it, and iHI! ov tiif: ska and tiik kockikh. 03 tliercj would, nu duiil)t, have bcuu ;i deadly strugglo for it if the mate had not said, " Fetcli it here," in a voice which none dared to disobey. It formed but a mouthful to each, yet the poor fel- lows devoured it with the greed of ravening wolves, and carefully licked their finger's wlien it was done. The little cabin-boy had three portions allotted to him, because Charlie Ih'ooke and Dick Darvall added their allowance to his without allowing him to be aware of the fact. But the extra ;'llowance ami kindness, alihongh they added greatly to his comfort, could not sta}- the hand of Death. Slowly but surely the Destroyer came and claimed the young life. It was a sweet, calm evening when the summons came. The sea was like glass, with only that long, gentle swell which tells even in the profoundest calm of Ocean's instability. The sky was intensely blue, save on the western horizon, where the sun turned it intn gold. It seemed as if all Nature were quietly indif- ferent to the surierings of the shipwrecked men, some of whom had reached that terrible condition of starvation when all the softer feelings of humanity seem dead, for, although no whisper of their intention passed their lips, their looks told all too plainly that they awaited the death of the ^abin-boy with im- patience, that they might appease the intolerable pangs of hunger by resorting to cannibalism. Charlie Brooke, who had been comforting the iti II I I ll ' : 120 CIIAItr.IK TO TlIK RKSCUE : A TALE iiig the metropolis ho at once took a ticket for Sealford. Just as the train was on tlie point of starting two elderly gentlemen came on tlie platfurn), in that eager haste and confusion of mind characteristic of late passengers. " This way, Captain," cried one, hailing the other, and pointing energetically with his brown silk umbrella to the Sealford carriages. "No, no. It's at the next platform," returned the Captain frantically. " I say it is herCy' shouted the first speaker sternly. " Come, sir, obey orders !" They both made for an open carriage-door. It chanced to be a third class. A strong hand was held out to assist them in. "Thank you," said the eldest elderly gentleman — he with the brown silk umbrella — turning to Red Shirt as he sat down and panted slightly. " I feared that we 'd be late, sir," remarked the other elderly gentleman on recovering breath. "We are not late, Captain, but we should have been late for certain, if your obstinacy had held another half minute." " Well, Mr. Crossley, I admit that I made a mis- take about the place, but you must allow that I made no mistake about the hour. I was sure that my chronometer was right. If there 's one thing on earth that I can trust to as reg'lar as the sun, it is OF THE SEA AND THE UOCKIES. 121 tliis clironoinetcr (pulling it out as he spoke), and it never fails. As I always sai-^ to my missis, ' Maggie,' I used to say,* when you find this chrono- meter fail ' ' Oh ! bother you an' your chrono- meter,* she would reply, takin' the wind out o' my sails — for my missus has a free-an'-easy way o' doin' that " "You've just come oft' a voyage, young sir, if I mistake not," said Crossley, turning to lied Shirt, for he had quite as free-and-easy a way of taking the wind out of Captain Stride's sails as the " missus." "Yes; I have just returned," answered Ked Shirt, in a low soft voice, which scarcely seem'>'a appro- priate to his colossal frame. His red gaii-.^nt, by the way, was at the time all concealed by the pilot- coat, excepting the collar. " Going home for a spell, I suppose ?" said Crossley. "Yes." "May I ask where you last hailed from?" said Captain Stride, with some curiosity, for there was something in the appearance of this nautical stranger which interested him. " From the southern seas. I have been away a long while in a South Sea whaler." " Ah, indeed ? — a rough service that." " Eather rough ; but I didn't enter it intentionally. I was picked up at sea, with some of my mates, in ir ; I! ', Ji - ii ii f ill pi », 122 CHARLIE TO THE llEbCUE : A TALE an pen boat, by the whaler. She was on the out- ward voyage, and couldn't land us anywhere, so we were obliged to make up our minds to join as hands." " Strange !" murmured Captain Stride. " Then you were wrecked somewhere — or your ship foun- dered, mayhap — eh ?" " Yes, we were wrecked — on a coral reef." " Well now, young man, that is a strange coin- cidence. I was wrecked myself on a coral reef in the very same seas, nigh three years ago. Isn't that odd?" " Dear me, this is very interesting," put in Mr. Crossley ; " and, as Captain Stride says, a somewhat strange coincidence." "Is it so very strange, after all," returned Red Shirt, "seeing that the Pacific is full of sunken coral reefs, and vessels are wrecked there more or less every year ?" " Well, there 's some truth in that," observed the Captain. "Did you say it was a sunk reef your ship struck on ?" "Yes; quite sunk. N-; Dart visible. It was calm weather at the time, and a clear night." "Another coincidence!" exclaimed Stride, becom- ing still more interested. "Calm and clear, too, when I was wrecked !" "Curious," remarked Eed Shirt in u cool indif- ferent tone, that began to exasperate the Captain. OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 123 "Yet, after all, there are a good many calm and clear nights in the Pacific, as well as coral reefs." " Why, young man," cried Stride in a tone that made old Crossley smile, "you seem to think nothing at all of coincidences. It 's very seldom — almost never — that one hears of so many coinci- dences happening on this side o' the line all at once — don't you see ?" "I see," returned Ked Sliirt; "and the same, exactly, may be said of the other side o' the line. I very seldom — almost never — heard of so many out there ; which itself may be called a coincidence, d'ee see ? a sort of negative similarity." " Young man, I would suspect you were jesting with me," returned the Captain, " but for the fact that you told me of your experiences first, before you could know that mine would coincide with them so exactly." "Your conclusions are very just, sir," rejoined Eed Shirt, with a grave and respectful air ; " but of course coincidences never go on in an unbroken chain. They must cease sooner or later. We left our wreck in three boats. No doubt you " "There again!" cried the Captain in blazing astonishment, as he removed his hat and wiped his heated brow, while Mr. Crossley's eyes opened to their widest extent. " IVe left our wreck in three boats ! My ship's name was " I III I l|i I ■i'll ■''■■,1 liUl 124 CHAllLIE TO THE KESCUE : A TALE " The Walrus," said Eed Shirt quietly, " and her Captain's name was Stride!" Old Crossley had reached the stage that is known as petrified with astonishment. The Captain being unable to open his eyes wider dropped his lower jaw instead. " Surely," continued Red Shirt, removing his wide- awake, and looking steadily at his companions, " I must have changed very much indeed when two of my " "Brooke!" exclaimed Crossley, grasping one of the sailor's hands. " Charlie !" gasped the Captain, seizing the other hand. What they all said after reaching this point it is neither easy nor necessary to record. Perhaps it may be as well to leave it to the reader's vivid imagination. Suffice it to say, that our hero irri- tated the Captain no longer by his callous indif- ference to coincidences. In the midst of the confusion of hurried question and short reply, iie pulled them up with the sudden query anxiously put — " But now, what of my mother ? " " Well — excellently well in health, my boy," said Crossley, "but wofully low in spirits about your- self — Charlie. Yet nothing will induce her to entertain the idea that you have been drowned. Of course we have been rather glad of this — though OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 125 most of our friends, Charlie, have given you up for lost long ago. May Leather, too, has been much the same way of thinking, so she has naturally been a great comfort to your mother." "God bless her for that. She's a good little girl," said Charlie. " Little girl," repeated both elderly gentlemen in a breath, and bursting into a laugh. " You forget, lad," said the Captain, " that three years or so makes a considerable change in girls of her age. She's a tall, handsome young woman now ; ay, and a good- looking one too. Almost as good-lookin' as what my missus was about her age — an' not unlike my little Mag in the face — the one you rescued, you re- member — who is also a strappin' lass now." " I 'm very glad to hear they are well. Captain," said Charlie ; " and. Shank, what of " He stopped, for the grave looks of his friends told him that something was wrong. " Gone to the dogs," said the Captain. " Nay, not quite gone — but going fast." " And the father ? " " Much as he was, Charlie, only somewhat more deeply sunk. The fact is," continued Crossley, " it is this very matter that takes us down to Sealford to-day. We have just had fresh news of Shank — who is in America — and I want to consult with Mrs. Leather about him. You see I have agents out there who may be able to help us to save him.' li ' * ■ . 126 CIlAliLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE I , '11! " From drink, I suppose ? " interposed our hero. " From himself, Charlie, and that inchides drink and a great deal more. I dare say you are aware — at least if you are not I now tell you — that I have long taken great interest in Mrs. Leather and her family, and would go a long way, and give a great deal, to save Shank. You know — no, of course you don't, I forgot — that he threw up his situation in my office — Withers & Co. (ay, you may smile, my lad, but we humbugged you and got the better of you that time. Didn't we, Captain ?) Well, Shank was induced by that fellow Ealph Ritson to go away to some gold-mine or other worked by his father in California, but when they reached America they got news of the failure of the Company and the death of old Eitson. Of course the poor fellows were at once thrown on their own resources, but instead of facing life like men they took to gam- bling. The usual results followed. They lost all they had and went off to Texas or some such wild place, and for a long time were no more heard of. At last, just the other day, a letter came from Ritson to Mrs. Leather, telling her that her son is very ill — perhaps dying — in some out o' the way place. Ritson was nursing him, but, being ill himself, unable to work, and without means, it would help them greatly if some money could be sent — even though only a small sum." Charlie Brooke listened to this narrative with OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 127 compressed brows, and remained silent a few seconds. " My poor clium ! " he exclaimed at length. Then a flash of fire seemed to gleam in his blue eyes as he added, " If I had that fellow Ritson by the " He stopped abruptly, and the fire in the eyes died out, for it was no part of our hero's charac- ter to boast — much less to speak harshly of men behind their backs. " Has money been sent ? " he asked. " Not yet. It is about that business that I 'm going to call on poor Mrs. Leather now. We must be careful, you see. I have no reason, it is true, to believe that Eitson is deceiving us, but when a youth of no principle writes to make a sudden demand for money, it behoves people to think twice before they send it." " Ay, to think three times — perhaps even four or five," broke in the Captain, with stern emphasis. " I know Ralph Ritson well, the scoundrel, an' if I had aught to do wi' it I 'd not send him a penny. As I said to my " "Does your mother know of your arrival?" asked Mr. Crossley abruptly. " No ; I meant to take her by surprise." " Humph ! Just like you young fellows. In some things you have no more brains than geese. Being made of cast-iron and shoe-leather you assume that everybody else is, or ought to be, made of the same 128 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE raw material. Don't you know that surprises of this sort are apt to kill delicate people ?" Charlie smiled by way of reply. "No, sir," continued the old gentleman firmly, "I won't let you take her by surprise. While 1 go round to the Leathers my good friend Captain Stride will go in advance of you to Mrs. Brooke's and break the news to her. He is accustomed to deal with ladies." " Eight you are, sir," said the gratified Captain, removing his hat and wiping his brow. " As I said, no later than yesterday to " A terrific shriek from the steam-whistle, and a plunge into the darkness of a tunnel stopped — and thus lost to the world for ever — what the Captain said upon that occasion. i OF TIIF^ SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 129 CHAPTER XI. TELLS OF HAPPY MEETINGS AND SERIOUS CONSULTxVTIONS. WiiETHEii Captain Stride executed his commis- sion well or not we cannot tell, and whether the meeting of Mrs. Brooke with her long-lost son came to near killing or not we will not tell. Enough to know that they met, and that the Captain — with that delicacy of feeling so noticeable in seafaring men — went outside the cottage door and smoked his pipe while the meeting was in progress. After having given sufficient time, as he said, "for the first o' the squall to blow over," he summarily snubbed his pipe, put it into his vest pocket, and re-entered. " Now, missus, you '11 excuse me, ma'am, for cuttiii' in atween you, but this business o' the Leathers is pressin', an' if we are to hold a confabulation wi' the family about it, why " "Ah, to be sure, Captain Stride is right," said Mrs. Brooke, turning to her stalwart son, who was seated on the sofa beside her. "This is a very, very sad business about poor Shank. You • If ^ 130 CIIAKLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE 1 i I 1 ( ! had better go to them, Charlie. I will follow you in a short time. " Mr. Crossley is with them at this moment. I forgot to say so, mother." " Is he ? I 'm very glad of that," returned the widow. "He has been a true friend to us all. Go, Charlie. But stay. I see May coming. The dear child always comes to me when there is any- thing good or sorrowful to tell. But she comes from the wrong direction. Perhaps she does not yet know of Mr. Crossley's arrival." " May ! Can it be ? " exclaimed Charlie in an undertone of surprise as he observed, through the window, the girl who approached. And well might he be surprised, for this, al- though the same May, was very different from the girl he left behind him. The angles of girlhood had given place to the rounded lines of young womanhood. The rich curly brown hair, which used to whirl wildly/ in the sea-breezes, was gathered up in a luxuriant mass behind her graceful head, and from the forehead it was drawn back in two wavy bands, in defiance of fashion, which at that time was beginning to introduce the detestable modern fringe. Perhaps we are not quite un- biassed in our judgment of the said fringe, for it is intimately associated in our mind with the savages of North America, whose dirty red faces, in years past, were wont to glower at us from beneath just i OF THE SEA AND THE UOCKIES. 131 such a fringe, long before it was adopted by the fair dames of England ! In other respects, however, May was little changed, except that the slightest curl of sadness about her eyebrows made her face more attractive than ever, as she nodded pleasantly to the Captain, who had hastened to the door to meet her. "So glad to see you, Captain Stride," she said, shaking hands with unfeminine heartiness. " Have you been to see mother ? I have just been having a walk before " She stopped as if transfixed, for at that moment she caught sight of Charlie and his mother through the open door. Poor May Hushed to the roots of her hair ; then she turned deadly pale, and would have fallen had not the gallant Captain caught her in his arms. But by a powerful effort of will slie recovered her- self in time to avoid a scene. "The sight of you reminded me so strongly of our dear Shank ! " she stammered, when Charlie, hastening forward, grasped both her hands and shook them warmly. " Besides — some of us thought you were dead." "No wonder you thought of Shank," returned Charlie, " for he and I used to be so constantly to- gether. But don't be cast down, IMay. We '11 get Shank out of his troubles yet." "Yes, and you know he has Ealph Eitson with |i t 132 CIIARLIF. TO THE 15ESCUE : A TALE him," said Mrs. Brooke ; " and he, although not quite as steady as we could wish, will be sure to care for such an old friend in his sickness. But you'd better go, Charlie, and see Mrs. Leather. They will be sure to want you and Captain Stride. May will remain here witli me. Sit down beside me, dear, I want to have a chat with you." " Perhaps, ma'am, if I make so bold," interposed the Captain, " Mr. Crossley may want to have Miss May also at the council of war." " Mr. Crossley ! is lie with my mother ? " asked the girl eagerly. " Yes, Miss May, he is." " Then I must be there. Excuse me, dear Mrs. Brooke." And without more ado May ran out of the house. She was followed soon after by Charlie and the Captain, and Mrs, Brooke was left alone, expressing her thankfulness and joy of heart in a few silent tears over her knitting. There was a wonderful similarity in many respects between Mrs. Brooke and her friend Mrs. Leather. They both knitted — continuously and persistently. This was a convenient if not a powerful bond, for it enabled them to sit for hours together — busy, yet free to talk. They were both invalids — a sympa- thetic bond of considerable strength. They held the same religious views — an indispensable bond where two people have to be much together, and OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 133 are in earnest. They were both poor — a natural bond which draws people of a certain kind very close together, physically as well as spiritually — and both, up to this time at least, had long-absent and semi-lost sons. Even in the matter of daughters they might be said, in a sense, to be almost equal, for May, loving each, was a daughter to both Lastly, in this matter of similarity, the two ladies were good — good as gold, according to Captain Stride, and he ought to have been an authority, for he frequently visited them and knew all their affairs. Fortunately for both ladies, Mrs. Brooke was by far the stronger-minded — hence they never quarrelled ! In Mrs. Leather's parlour a solemn conclave was seated round the parlour table. They were very earnest, for the case under consideration was urgent, as well as very pitiful. Poor Mrs. Leather's face was wet with tears, and the pretty brown eyes of May were not dry. They had had a long talk over the letter from Eitson, which was brief and to the point, but meagre as to details. " I rather like the letter, considering who wrote it," observed Mr. Crossley, laying it down after a fourth perusal. " You see he makes no whining or discontented reference to the hardness of their luck, which young scapegraces are so fond of doing . nor does he make effusive professions of regret or repentance, which hypocrites are so prone to do. I Ill 134 CIIAliLIE TO TIIK llESCUE : A TALE Hi: think it bears the stamp of being geninne on the face of it. At least it appears to be straightfor- ward." " I 'm so glad you think so, Mr. Crossley," said Mrs. Leather ; " for Mr. Eitson is such a pleasant young man — and ' >od-looking, too !" The old gentleL a and the Captain both burst into a laugh at this. " I 'm afraid," said the former, " that good looks are no guarantee for good behaviour. However, I have made up my mind to send him a small sum of money — not to Shank, Mrs. Leather, so you need not begin to thank me. I shall send it to Eitson." " Well, thank you all the same," interposed the lady, taking up her knitting and resuming opera- tions below the to^ gazing placidly all the while at her friends lik le consummate conjuror, "for Ealph will be sure to look after Shank." " The only thing that puzzles me is, how are we to get it sent to such an out-o'-the-way place — Traitor's Trap ! It 's a bad name, and the stupid fellow makes no mention of any known town near to it, though he gives the post-office. If I only knew its exact whereabouts I might get some one to take the money to him, for I have agents in many parts of America." After prolonged discussion of the subject, Mr. Crossley returned to town to make inquiries, and the Captain went to take his favourite walk by the OF THE SEA AND THE IIOCKIES. 135 sea-shore, where he was wont, when paying a visit to Sealford, to drive the Leathers' little dog half- mad with delight by throwing stones into the sea for Scraggy to go in for — which he always did, though he never fetched them out. In the course of that day Charlie Brooke left his mother to take a stroll, and naturally turned in the direction of the sea. "When half-way through the lane with the high banks on either side he encoun- tered May. " What a pleasant pretty girl she has become ! " was his thought as she drew near, " Nobler and handsomer than ever !" was hers as he approached. The thoughts of both sent a fiush to the face of each, but the colour scarcely showed through the bronzed skin of the man. "Why, what a woman you have grown, May!" said Charlie, grasping her hand, and attempting to resume the old familiar terms — with, however, imperfect success. " Isn't that natural ?" asked May, with a glance and a little laugh. That glance and that little laugh, insignificant in themselves, tore a veil from the eyes of Charlie Brooke. He had always been fond of May Leather, after a fashion. Now it suddenly rushed upon him that he was fond of her after another fashion ! He was a quick thinker and just reasoner. A poor p 136 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE It: • I' '- man without a profession and no prospects has no right to try to gain the affections of a girl. He became grave instantly. " May," he said, " will you turn back to the shore with me for a little ? I want to have a talk about Shark. I want you to tell me all you know about him. Don't conceal anything. I feel as if I had a right to claim your confidence, for, as you know well, he and I have been like brothers since we were little boys." May had turned at once, and the tears filled her eyes as she told the sad story. It was long, and the poor girl was graphic in detail. We can give but the outline here. Shank had gone off with Eitson not long after the sailing of the Walrus. On reaching America, and hearing of the failure of the company that worked the gold mine, and of old Eitson 's death, they knew not which way to turn. It was a tre- mendous blow, and seemed to have rendered them reckless, for they soon took to gambling, i^t first they remained in New York, and letters came home pretty regularly, in which Shank always expressed hopes of getting more respectable work. He did not conceal their mode of gaining a livelihood, but defended it on the ground that " a man must live !" Tor a time the letters were cheerful. The young men were "lucky." Then came a change of luck, and a consequent change in the letters, which came OF THE SEA AND TlIU ROCKIES. 1?7 less frequently. At last there arrived one from Shank, both the style and penmanship of which told that he had not forsaken the great curse of his life — strong drink. It told of disaster, and of going off to the "Eockies" with a party of "discoverers," though what they were to discover was not men- tioned. " From that date till now," said May in conclu- sion, " we have heard nothing about them till this letter came from Mr. Eitson, telling of dear Shank being so ill, and asking for money." " I wish any one were with Shank rather than that man," said Charlie sternly; "I have no con- fidence in him whatever, and I knew him well as a boy." " Nevertheless, I think we may trust him. Indeed I feel sure he won't desert his wounded comrade," returned May, with a blush. The youth did not observe the blush. His thoughts were otherwise engaged, and his eyes were at the moment fixed on a far-off part of the shore, where Captain Stride could be seen urging on the joyful Scraggy to his fruitless labours. " I wish I could feel as confident of him as you do, May. However, misfortune as well as experience may have made him a wiser, perhaps a better, man. But what troubles me most is the uncertainty of the money that Mr. Crossley is going to send ever reaching its destination." 138 CIIAIILIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE " Oh ! if we only knew some one in New York who would take it to them," said May, looking pite- ously at the horizon, as if she were apostrophising some one on the other side of the Atlantic. "Why, you talk as if New York and Traitor's Trap were within a few miles of each other," said Charlie, smiling gently. "They are hundreds of miles apart." "Well, I suppose they are. But I feel so anxious about Shank when I think of the dear boy lying ill, perhaps dying, in a lonely place far far away from us all, and no one but Mr. Eitson to care for him ! If I were only a man I would go to him myself." She broke down at this point, and put her hand- kerchief to her face. " Don't cry. May," began the youth in sore per- plexity, for he knew not how to comfort the poor girl in the circumstances, but fortunately Captain Stride caught sight of them at the moment, and gave them a stentorian hail. " Hi ! halloo ! back your to-o-o-ps'ls. I '11 overhaul ye in a jiffy." How long a nautical jiffy may be we know not, but, in a remarkably brief space of time, considering the shortness and thickness of his sea-legs, the Cap- tain was alongside, blowing, as he said, " like a grampus." That night Charlie Brooke sat witli his mother in OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 139 her parlour. They were alone — their friends hav- ing considerately left them to themselves on this their first night. They had been talking earnestly about past and present, for the son had much to learn about old friends and comrades, and the mother had much to tell. •' And now, mother," said Charlie, at the end of a brief pause, " what about the future ?" " Surely, my boy, it is time enough to talk about that to-morrow, or next day. You are not obliged to think of the future before you have spent even one night in your old room." "Not absolutely obliged, mother. Nevertheless, I should like to speak about it. Poor Shank is heavy on my mind, and when I heard all about him to-day from May, I She's wonderfully improved that girl, mother. Grown quite pretty ? " "Indeed she is — and as good as she's pretty," returned Mrs. Brooke, with a furtive glance at her son. "She broke down when talking about Shank to-day, and I declare she looked quite beautiful! Evidently Shank's condition weighs heavily on her mind." " Can you wonder, Charlie ? " " Of course not. It 's natural, and I quite sym- pathised with her when she exclaimed, ' If I were only a man I would go to him myself.' " if! il ill HO CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE " That 's natural too, my son. I have no doubt she would, poor dear girl, if she were only a man." " Do you know, mother, I *ve not been able to get that speech out of my head all this afternoon. * If I were a man — if I were a man/ keeps ringing in my ears like the chorus of an old song, and then " " Well, Charlie, what then ? " asked Mrs. Brooke, with a puzzled glance. "Why, then, somehow the chorus has changed in my brain and it runs — ' I ain p man ! I am a man ! ' " " Well ? " asked the mother, "./ith an anxious look. " Well — that being so, I have made up my mind that / will go out to Traitor's Trap and carry the money to Shank, and look after him myself. That is, if you will let me." " O Charlie ! how can you talk of it ? " said Mrs. Brooke, with a distressed look. "I have scarcely had time to realise the fact that you have come home, and to thank God for it, when you begin to talk of leaving me again — perhaps for years, as before." "Nay, mother mine, you jump to conclusions too hastily. What I propose is not to go off again on a long voyage, but to take a run of a few days in a first-class steamer across what the Americans call the big fish-pond ; then go across country comfort- y. mBh l;.rm OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. Ul » ably by rail; after that hire a horse and have a gallop somewhere or other; find out Shank and bring him home. The whole thing might be done in a few weeks, and no chance, almost, of being wrecked." " I don't know, Charlie," returned Mrs. Brooke, in a sad tone, as she laid her hand on her son's arm and stroked it. "As you put it, the thing sounds all very easy, and no doubt it would be a grand, a noble thing to rescue Shank — but — but, why talk of it to-night, my dear boy ? It is late. Go to bed, Charlie, and we will talk it over in the mornin[;'. "How pleasantly familiar that 'Go to bed, Charlie,' sounds," said the son, laughing, as he rose up. " You did not always think it pleasant," returned the good lady, with a sad smile. " That 's true, but I think it uncommonly pleasant now. Good-night, mother." " Goo^l-night, my son, and God bless you." i!il 142 CITARLTE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE CHAPTER XIL CHANGK9 THE SCENE CONSIDKRABLY ! 1 ■■I; We must transport our reader now to a locality somewhere in the region lying between New Mexico and Colorado. Here, in a mean-looking out-of-the-way tavern, a number of rough-looki'ig men were congregated, drinking, gambling, and spinning yarns. Some of them belonged to the class known as cow-boys — men of rugged exterior, iron constitutions, powerful frames, and apparently reckless dispositions, though underneath the surface there was considerable variety of character to be found. The landlord of the inn — if we may so call it, for it was little better than a big shanty — was known by the name of David. He was a man of cool courage. His customers knew this latter fact well, and were also aware that, although he carried no weapon on his person, he had several revolvers in handy places under his counter, with the use of which he was extremely familiar and expert. In the midst of a group of rather noisy characters Il'l r.^m: OF THE SEA. AND THE ROCKIES. 143 who smoked and drank in one corner of this inn or shanty, there wa3 seated on the end of a packing- case, a man in the prime of life, who, even in such rough company, was conspicuously rugged. His leathern costume betokened him a hunter, or trapper, and the sheepskin leggings, with the wool outside, showed that he was at least at that time a horseman. Unlike most of his comrades, he wore Indian moccasins, with spurs strapped to them. Also a cap of the broad-brimmed order. The point about him that was most striking at first sight was his immense breadth of shoulder and depth of chest, though in height he did not equal many of the men around him. As OlIQ became acquainted with the man, however, hiot massive proportions had not so powerful an effec;:i on the mind of an observer as the quiet simplicity of his expression and manner. Good-nature seemed to lurk in the lines about his eyes and the corners of his mouth, which latter had the peculiarity oi: turning down instead of up when he smiled ; yet withal there was a stern gravity aboi.t him that forbade familiarity. The name of the man was Hunky Ben, and the strangest thing about him — that which puzzled these wild men most — was that he neither drank nor smoked nor gambled ! He made no pretence of abstaining on principle. One of the younger men, who was blowing a stiff cloud, ventured to ask him whether he really thought these things wrong. 144 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE " Well, now," he replied quietly, with a twinkle in his eye, " I 'm no parson, boys, that I should set up to diskiver what 's right an' what 's wrong. I 've got my own notions on them points, you bet, but I'm not goin' to preach 'em. As to smokin', I won't make a smoked herrin' o' my tongue to please anybody. Besides, I don't want to smoke, an' why should I do a thing I don't want to just because other people does it ? Why should I make a new want when I 've got no end o' wants a'ready that 's hard enough to purvide for? Drinkin's all very well if a man wants Dutch courage, but I don't want it — no, nor French courage, nor German, nor Chinee, havin' got enough o' the article liome- growed to sarve my purpus. When that 's used up I may take to drinkin' — who knows? Same wi' gamblin'. I 've no desire to bust up any man, an' I don't want to be busted up myself, you bet. No doubt drinkin', smokin', an' gamblin' makes men jolly — them at least that 's tough an' that wins ! — but I 'm jolly without 'em, boys, — ^jolly as a cotton- tail rabbit just come of age." " An' ye look it, old man," returned the young fellow, puffing cloudlets with the utmost vigour; " but come, Ben, won't ye spin us a yarn about your frontier life ? " " Yes, do, Hunky," cried another in an entreating voice, for it was well known all over that region that the bold hunter was a good story-teller, and as he ^ OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 145 had served a good deal on tlie frontier as guide to the United States troops, it was understood that he had much to tell of a thrilling and adventurous kind ; but although the men about him ceased to talk and looked at him with expectancy, he shook his liead, and would not consent to be drawn out. "No, boys, it can't be done to-day," he said; " I 've no time, for I 'm bound for Quester Creek in hot haste, an' am only waitin' here for my pony to freshen up a bit. The Redskins are goin* to give us trouble there by all accounts." " The red devils ! " exclaimed one of the men, with a savage oath ; " they 're always givin' us trouble." " That," returned Hunky Ben, in a soft voice, as he glanced mildly at the speaker, — " that is a senti- ment I heer'd expressed almost exactly in the same words, though in Capatchee lingo, some time ago by a Redskin chief — only he said it was pale-faced devils who troubled liim. I wonder which is worst. The}'' can't both be worst, you know ! " This remark was greeted with a laugh, and a noisy discussion thereupon began as to the com- parative demerits of the two races, which was ere long checked by tlie sound of a galloping horse outside. Next moment the door opened, and a very tall man of commanding presence and bearing entered the room, took off his hat, and looked round with a slight bow to the company E I \i'h MG CIIAllLIE TO TllK UKSCUK : A TALE There was nothing commanding, however, in the quiet voice with which he asked the landlord if he and his horse could be put up there for the night. The company knew at once, from the cut of the stranger's tweed suit, as well as his tongue, that he was an Englishman, not much used to the ways of the country — though, from the revolver and knife in his belt, and the repeating rifle in his hand, he seemed to be ready to meet the country on its own terms by doing in Eomc as Home does. On being told that he could have a space on the floor to lie on, which he might convert into a bed if he had a blanket with him, he seemed to make up his mind to remain, asked for food, and whiflo it was preparing went out to attend to his horse. Then, returning, he went to a retired corner of the room, and flung himself down at full length on a vacant bench, as if he were pretty well exhausted with fatigue. The simple fare of the hostelry was soon ready ; and when the stranger was engaged in eating it, he asked a cow-boy beside him how far it was to Traitor's Trap. At the question there was a perceptible lull in the conversation, and the cow-boy, who was a very coarse forbidding specimen of his class, said that he guessed Traitor's Trap was distant about twenty mile or so. of OF THE SKA AND THE UOCKIKS. M7 " Are you goin' thar, stranger ? " he asked, eyeing his questioner curiously. "Yes, I'm going there," answered the English- man ; " but from what I *ve heard of the road, at the place where I stayed last night, I don't like to go on without a guide and daylight — though I would much prefer to push on to-night if it were possible." " Wall, stranger, whether possible or not," re- turned the cow-boy, " it 's an ugly place to go past, for there 's a gang o' cut-throats there that 's kep' the country fizzin' like ginger-beer for some time past. A man that's got to go past Traitor's Trap should go by like a greased thunderbolt, an' he should never go alone." " Is it, then, such a dangerous place ? " asked the Englishman, with a smile that fi'oemed to say he thought his informant was exaggerating. " Dangerous ! " exclaimed the cow-boy. " Ay, an' will be as long as Buck Tom an' his boys are unhung. Why, stranger, I'd get my life insured, you bet, before I 'd go thar again — except with a big crowd o' men. It was along in June last year I went up that way; there was nobody to go with me, an' I was forced to do it by myself — for I had to go — so I spunked up, saddled Bluefire, an' sloped. I got on lovely till I came to a pass just on t'other side o' Traitor's Trap, when I began to cheer up, thinkin' I 'd got off square ; but I hadn't gone another hundred yards when up starts Buck 1 1 P '1 ii- ! t m 3^*^^ Mr CIIAULIE TO THE UKSCUE : A TALE ! Tom an' his men with 'hands up.' I went head down Hat on my saddle instead, I was so riled. Bang went a six-shooter, an' the ball just combed my back hair. I suppose Buck was so took by surprise at a single man darin' to disobey his orders that he missed. Anyhow I socked spurs into Blue- fire, an' made a break for the open country ahead. They made after me like locomotives wi' the safety- valves blocked, but Blucfire was more'n a match for 'em. They kep' blazin' away all the time too, but never touched me, though I heard the balls whistlin' past for a good while. Bluefire an' me went, you bet, like a nor'easter in a passion, .an' at last they gave it up. No, stranger, take my advice an' con't go past Traitor's Trap alone. I wouldn't go there at all if I could help it." " I don't intend to go past it. I mean to go into it," said the Englishman, with a short laugh, as he laid down his knife and fork, having finished his slight meal ; " and, as I cannot get a guide, I shall be forced to go alone." " Stranger," said the cow-boy in surprise, " d 'ye want -to meet wi' Buck Tom ? " " Not particularly." "An' are ye aware that Va ok Tom is one o' the most hardened, sanguinaoious blackguards in all Colorado?" " I did v.^ifftt e, but I suppose I may believe " ^ . OF TlIK SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 149 As he spoko the Englishman rose and went out to fetch the blanket which was strapped to his saddle. In going out he brushed close past a man who chanced to enter at the same moment. The new comer was also a tall and strikingly handsome man, clothed in the picturesque garments of the cow-boy, and fully armed. He strode up to the counter, with an air of proud defiance, and demanded drink. It was supplied him. He tossed it off quickly, without deigning a glance at the assembled company. Then in a deep-toned voice he asked — " Has the Rankin Creek Company sent that account and the money ? " Profound silence had fallen on the whole party in the room the moment this man entered. They evidently looked at him with profound interest if not respect. " Yes, Buck Tom," answered the landlord, in his grave off-hand manner. " They have sent it, and authorised me to pay you the balance." He turned over some papers for a few minutes, during which Buck Tom did not condescend to glance to one side or the other, but kept his eye fixed sternly on the landlord. At that moment the Englishman re-entered, went to his corner, spread his blanket on the floor, lay down, put his wide-awake over his eyes, and resigned himself to repose, apparently unaware !'! »•!' -.1 IL It: ■f8'< 'i!j I m< 150 CHARLIE TO TFIE RESCUE : A TALE that anything special was going on, and obLUsely blind to the quiet but eager signals wherewith the cow-boy was seeking to direct his attention to Buck Tom. In a few minutes the landlord found the paper he wanted, and began to look over it. " The company owes you," he said, " three hun- dred dollars ten cents for the work done," said the landlord slowly. Buck nodded his head as if satisfied with this. "Your account has run on a long while," con- tinued the landlord, "and they bid me explain that there is a debit of two hundred and ninety- nine dollars against you. Balance in your favour one dollar ten cents," A dark frown settled on Buck Tom's counten- ance, as the landlord laid the balance due on the counter, and for a few moments he seemed in uncer- tainty as to wliat he should do, while the land- lord stood conveniently near to a spot where one of his revolvers lay. Then Buck turned on his heel, and was striding towards the door, when the land- lord called him back. " Excuse my stopping you, Buck Tom," he said, "but there's a gentleman here who wants a guide to Traitor's Trap. Mayhap you wouldn't object to " " Where is he ?" demanded Buck, wheeling round, with a look of slight surprise. OF THE SKA AND THE ROCKIES. 151 " There," said tlio landlord, pointing to the dark corner where the big Englishman lay, apparently fast asleep, with his hat pulled well down over his eyes. Buck Tom looked at the sleeping figure for a few moments. " H'm ! well, I might guide him," he said, with something of a grim smile, " but I 'm travelling too fast for comfort. He might hamper me. By the way," he added, looking back as he laid his hand on the door, " you may tell the Eankin Creek Company, with my compliments, to buy a new lock to their office door, for I intend to call on them some day soon and balance up that little account on a new system of 'rithmetic ! Tell them I give 'em leave to clap the one dollar ten cents to the credit of their charity account," Another moment and Buck Tom was gnne. Be- fore the company in the tavern had quite recovered the use of their tongues, the hoofs of his horse were heard rattling along the road which led in the direction of Traitor's Trap. " Was that really Buck Tom ? " asked Hunky Ben, in some surprise. " Ay — or his ghost," answered the landlord. " I can swear to him, for I saw him as clear as I see you the night he split after me," said the cow- boy, who had warned the Englishman. " Why didn't you put a bullet into him to-night, Crux ? " asked a comrade. I 4 152 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE if i! "Just so — you had a rare chance," remarked another of the cow-boys, with something of a sneer in his tone. " Because I 'm not yet tired o' my life," replied Crux, indignantly. " Buck Tom has got eyes in the back o' his head, I do believe, and shoots dead like a flash " " Not that time he missed you at Traitor's Trap, I think," said the other. "Of course not — 'cause we was both mounted that time, and scurryin' over rough ground like wild-cats. The best o' shots would miss thar an' thus. Besides, Buck Tom took nothin' from me, an' ye wouldn't have me shoot a man for missin' me — surely. If you 're so fond o' killin', why didn't you shoot him yourself ? — yoit had a rare chance ! " Crux grinned — for his ugly mouth could not compass a smile — as he thought thus to turn the tables on his comrade. "Well, he's got clear off, anyhow, returned the comrade, an' it 's a pity, for " He was interrupted by the Englishman raising himself and asking in a sleepy tone if there was likely to be moonlight soon. The company seemed to think him moonstruck to ask such a question, but one of them replied that the moon was due in half an hour. " You 've lost a good chance, sir," said Crux, who had a knack of making all his communications as OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 153 disagreeably as possible, unless they chanced to be unavoidably agreeable, in which case he made the worst of them. " Buck Tom hisself has just bin here, an' might have agreed to guide you to Traitor's Trap if you 'd made him a good offer." " Why did you not awake me ? " asked the Englishman in a reproachful tone, as he sprang up, grasped his blanket hastily, threw down a piece of money on the counter, and asked if the road wasn't straight and easy for a considerable distance. "Straight as an arrow for ten mile," said the landlord, as he laid down the change which the Englishman put into an apparently well-filled purse. " I '11 guide you, stranger, for five dollars," said Crux. " I want no guide," returned the other, somewhat brusquely as he left the room. A minute or two later he was heard to pass the door on horseback at a sharp trot. " Poor lad, he '11 run straight into the wolf's den ; but why he wants to do it puzzles me," remarked the landlord, as he carefully cleaned a tankard. " But he would take no warning." " The wolf doesn't seem half as bad as he 's bin painted," said Hunky Ben, rising and offering to pay his score. " Hallo, Hunky — not goin' to skip, are ye ? " asked Crux. " I told ye I was in a hurry. Only waitin' to '% !^^^^ I I 154 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE n ■ ■% rest my pony. My road is the same as the stranger's, at least part o' the way. I '11 overhaul an' warn him." A few minutes more and the broad-shouldered scout was also galloping along the road or track which led towards the Eocky mountains in the direction of Traitor's Trap. i^MIhmCL^ OF TIIK SKA AND THE llOCKIKS. 155 CIIAPTErt XIII. HUNKY BKN IS SOHKLY rElU'LEXED. It was one of Hunky Ben's few weaknesses to take pride in being well mounted. When lie left the tavern he bestrode one of his best steeds — a black charger of unusual size, which he had purchased while on a trading trip in Texas — and many a time had he ridden it while guiding the United States troops in their frequent expeditions against ill-disposed Indians. Taken both together it would have been hard to equal, and impossible to match, Hunky Ben and his coal-black mare. From the way that Ben rode, on quitting the tavern, it might have been supposed that legions of wild Indians were at his licels. But after going about a few miles at racing speed he reined in, and finally pulled up at a spot where a very slight pathway diverged. Here he sat quite still for a few minutes in meditation. Then he muttered softly to himself — for Ben was often and for long periods alone in the woods and on the plains, and found it some- what " sociable-like " to mutter his tlioughts audibly : 1 till*' 156 CHARLIE TO THE KESCUE : A TALE "You've not cotclied him up after all, Ben," he said. "Black Polly a'most equals a streak o' lightnin', but the Britisher got too long a start o' ye, an' he 's clearly in a hurry. Now, if I follow on he '11 hear your foot-falls, Polly, an' p'raps be scared into goin' faster to his doom. Whereas, if I go off the track here an' drive ahead so as to git to the Blue Fork before him, I'll be able to stop the Buck's little game, an* save the poor fellow's life. Buck is sure to stop him at the Blue Fork, for it 's a handy spot for a road-agent,^ and there 's no other near." Hunky Ben was pre-eminently a man of action. As he uttered or thought the last word he gave a little chirp which sent Black Polly along the diverging track at a speed which almost justified the comparison of her to lightning. The Blue Fork was a narrow pass or gorge in the hills, the footpath through which was rendered rugged and dangerous for cattle because of the rocks that had fallen during the course of ages from the cliffs on either side. Seen from a short distance oft' on the main track the mountains beyond had a brilliantly blue appearance, and a few Imndred yards on the other side of the pass the track forked — hence the name. One fork led up to Traitor's Trap, the other to the fort of Quester Creek, an out-post of United States troops for which ^ A liigliwayman. OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 157 Hiiiiky Ben was bound with the warning that the lledskins were contemplating mischief. As Ben had conjectured, this was the spot selected by Buck Tom as the most suitable place for way- laying his intended victim. Doubtless he supposed that no Englishman would travel in such a country without a good deal of money about him, and he resolved to relieve him of it. It was through a thick belt of wood that the scout had to gallop at first, and he soon outstripped the traveller who kept to the main and, at that part, more circuitous road, and who was besides obliged to advance cautiously in several places. On nearing liis destination, however, Ben pulled up, dismounted, fastened his mare to a tree, and proceeded the rest of the way on foot at a run, carrying his repeating rifle with him. He had not gone far wlien he came upon a horse. It was fastened, like his own, to a tree in a hollow. " Ho ! ho ! " thought Ben, " you prefer to do yer dirty work on foot, Mr. Buck ! Well, you're not far wrong in such a place." Advancing now with great caution, the scout left the track and moved through the woods more like a visible ghost than a man, for he was well versed in all the arts and wiles of the Indian, and his mocca- siued feet made no sound whatever. Climbing up the pass at some height above the level of the road, so that he might be able to see all that took place I ■Ij I 158 CILVrvLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE below, he at last lay down at full length, and drew himself in snake fashion to the edge of the thicket that concealed him. Pushing aside the bushes gently he looked down, and there, to his satisfac- tion, beheld the man he was in search of, not thirty yards off. Buck Tom was crouching behind a large mass of rock close to the track, and so lost in the dark shadow of it that no ordinary man could have seen him ; but nothing could escape the keen and practised eye of Hunky Ben. He could not indeed make out the highwayman's form, but he knew that he was there and tliat was enoucrh. Laying his rifle on a rock before him in a handy position he silently watched the watcher. During all this time the Englishman — whom the reader has doubtless recognised as Charlie Brooke — was pushing on as fast as he could in the hope of overtaking the man who could guide him to Traitor's Trap. At last he came to the Blue Forks, and rode into the pass with the confidence of one who suspects no evil. He drew rein, however, as he advanced, and picked his way carefully along the encumbered path. He had " arely reached the middle of it, where a clear space permitted the moonbeams to full brightly on the ground, when a stern voice suddenly broke the stillness of the nigr'it with tlie words — F OF THIC SEA AND TIIK L'OCKIES. 159 a " Hands up ! " Charlie Brooke seemed either to be ignorant of the ways of the country and of the fact that dis- obedience to the command involved sudden death, or he had grown unaccountably reckless, for instead of raising his arms and submitting to be searched by the robber who covered him with a revolver, he merely reined up and took off his hat, allowing the moon to shine lull on his countenance. The effect on Buck Tom was singular. Standing with his back to the moon, his expression could not be seen, but his arm dropped to his side as if it had been paralysed, and the revolver fell to the ground. Never had Buck Tom been nearer to his end than at that moment, for Hunky Ben, sec^'ng clearly what would be the consequence of the Englishman's non- compliance with the command, was already pressing the trigger that would have sent a bullet into Buck Tom's brain, but the Englishman's strange conduct induced him to pause, and the effect on the robber caused him to raise his head and open wide his eyes — also his ears ! "Ah! Ealph Ritson, has it come to this?" said Charlie, in a voice that told only of pity and surprise. Eor some moments Pialph did not speak. He was evidently stunned. Presently he recovered, and; passing his hand over his brow, but never tak- ing his eyes off the handsome face of his former friend, he said in a low tone — ]G0 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE ll If " I — I — don't feel very sure whether you 're llesh and blood, Brooke, or a spirit — but — but " "I'm real enough to be able to shake hands, Eitson," returned our hero, dismounting, and going up to his former friend, who suffered him to grasp the hand that had been on the point of taking his life. " But can it be true, that I really find you a- " It is true, Charlie Brooke ; quite true — but while you see the result, you do not see, and cannot easily understand, the hard grinding injustice that has brought me to this. The last and worst blow I received this very nigl.h. I have urgent need of money — not for myself, believe me — and I came down to David's store, at some personal risk, I may add, to receive payment of a sum due me fui acting as a cow-boy for many months. The company, instead of paying me " " Yes, I know ; I heard it all," said Charlie. " You were only shamming sleep, then ?" " Yes ; I knew you at once." "Well, then," continued Buck Tom (as we shall still continue to stylo him), "the disappointment made me so desperate that I determined to rob you — little thinking who you were — in order to lieli) poor Shank Leather " "Does Shank stand in urgent need of help?" asked Charlie, interrupting. "He does indeed. He has been very ill. We OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. IGl have run out of funds, and he needs food and physic of a kind that the mountains don't furnisli." "Does he belong to your band, Eitson ?" " Well — nearly ; not quite !" "That is a strange answer. How far is it to wi:ere he lies just now ?" "Six miles, about." " Conie, then, I will go to him if you will show me the way," returned Charlie, preparing to remount. I have plenty of that which poor Shank stands so much in need of. In fact I have come here for the express purpose of huntirig him and you up. Would it not be well, by the way, to ride back to the store for some supplies ?" " No need," answered Buck Tom, stooping to pick up his revolver. "There's another store not far from this, to which we can send to-morrow. We can get what we want there." "But what have you done with your horse?" asked Charlie ; " I heard you start on one." " It is not far off. I '11 go fetch it." So saying the robber entered the bushes and dis- appeared. A few minutes later the clattering of hoofs was heard, and in another moment he rode up to the spot where our hero awaited him. " Follow me," he said ; " the road becomes better half a mile further on." During all this time Hunky Ben had stood witli his rifle ready, listening with the feelings of a man f i ■. 1 •I 162 CIIAULIE TO THE llESCUE : A TALE in a dream. He watched the robber and his victim ride quietly away until they were out of sight. Then he stood up, tilted his cap on one side, and scratched his head in great perplexity. " Well, now," he said at length," this is about the queerest affair I 've corned across .since I was raised. It's a marcy I was born with a quiet spirit, for another chip off the small end of a moment an' Buck Tom would have bin with his fathers in their happy, or otherwise, huntin' grounds! It's quite clear that them two liave bin friends, mayhap pards, in the old country. An' Buck Tom (that 's Ritson, I think he called him) has bin driven to it by injus- tice, has he ? Ah ! Buck, if all the world that suf- fers injustice was to take to robbery it 's not many respectable folk would be left to rob. "Well, well, my comin' off in such a splittfi' hurry to take care o' this Britisher is a wild-goose chase arter all ! It 's not the first one you 've bin led into anyhow, an' it 's time you was lookin' arter yer own business, Hunky Ben." While giving vent to these remarks in low mut- tering tones, the scout was quickly retracing his steps to the place where he had tied up Black Polly. Mounting her he returned to the main track, pro- ceeded along it until he reached the place beyond the pass where the roads forked; then, selecting that which diverged to the left, he set off at a hard gallop in tlie direction of Quester Creek. J OF THE SE\ AND THE IIOCKIEJ. 1G3 ! CHAPTEE XIV. THE HAUNT Of THK OUTLAWS, i Afteu riding through the Blue Fork Charlie and Buck Tom came to a stretch of open ground of considerable extent, where they could ride abreast, and here the latter gave the former some account of the condition of Shank Leather. " Tell me, Eitson," said Charlie, " what you mean by Shank ' nearly ' and * not quite ' belonging to your band." The outlaw was silent for some time. Then he seemed to make up his mind to speak out. " Brooke," he sair., " it did, till this night, seem to me that all the better feelings of my nature — what- ever they were — had been blotted out of existence, for since I came to this part of the world the cruelty and injustice that I have witnessed and suffered have driven me to desperation, and I candidly con- fess to you that I have come to hate pretty nigh the whole human race. The grip of your hand and tone of your voice, however, have told me that I have not yet sunk to the lowest possible depths. «*»»i«*t.- THE IIOCKIES. 171 fellows to have more pluck and a quicker eye and hand than yourself to dethrone you at once." " Well, none of my fellows," returned Buck Tom good-humouredly, "happen to have the advantage of me at present, so you may trust me and count this one o' the * certain occasions ' in which the revolver is ' a most important instrument.' " "I dare say you are right," responded Charlie, smiling, as he drew from the breast of his coat a small bag and handed it to his companion. " You know exactly, of course, how much is here ? " asked Buck Tom. " Yes, exactly." "That's all right," continued Buck, thrusting the l)ag into the bosom of his hunting coat ; " now I '11 see if any o' the boys are at home. Doubtless they are out — else they'd have heard us by this time. Just wait a minute." He seemed to melt into the darkness as he spoke. Another minute and he re-appeared. " Here, give me your hand," he said ; " the passage is darkish at first." Charlie Brooke felt rather than saw that they had passed under a portal of some sort, and were advancing along a narrow passage. Soon they turned to the left, and a faint red light — as of fire — became visible in the distance. Buck Tom stopped. " There 's no one in the cave but him, and he 's asleep. Follow me." 172 CIIAllLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE The passage in which they stood led to a third and shorter one, where tlie liglit at its extremity was intense, lighting up the whole of the place so as to reveal its character. It was a corridor about seven feet high and four feet wide cut out of the solid earth; arched in the roof and sup- ported here and there by rougli posts to make it still more secure. Charlie at once concluded that it led to one of those concealed caverns, of which he had heard more than once while crossing tl\e country, the entrances of which are made in zig-zag form in order to prevent the possibility of a ray of light issuing from the outside opening. On reaching the end of the third passage he found that his conjecture was right, for the door- way or opening on his left hand conducted into a spacious cave, also hollowed out of the earth, but apparoitly against a perpendicular cliff, for the inner end of it was of unhewn rock. The roof of the cave was supported by pillars which were merely sections of pine-trees with the bark left on. These pillars and the earthen walls were adorned with antlers, skulls, and horns of the Rocky mountain sheep, necklaces of grizzly-bear's claws, Indian bows and arrows, rifles, short swords, and various other weapons and trophies of the chase, besides sundry articles of clothing. At the inner end of the cave a large fireplace and chimney had been rudely buiH, and in this was roaring the pine-wood five which OF THK SEA A^D THE ROCKIES. 173 had lighted them iu, and which caused the whole interior to glow with a vivid glare that seemed to surpass that of noon-day. A number of couches of pine-brush were spread round the walls, and on one of these lay a sleeping figure. The face was turned towards the visitor, who saw at a glance that it was that of his former friend and playmate — but it was terribly changed. Hard toil, suffering, sickness, dissipation, had set indelible marks on it, and there was a slight curve about the eyebrows which gave the idea of habitual pain. Yet, strange to say, worn and lined though it was, the face seemed far more attractive and refined tlian it had ever been in the days of robust health. Buck Tom went to the fire and began to stir the contents of a big pot that hung over it, while Charlie advanced and stood for some minutes gazing at the countenance of his friend, unwilling to dis- turb his slumbers, yet longing to cheer him with the glad news that he had come to succour him. He chanced, however, to touch a twig of the pine branches on which the sleeper lay, and Shank awoke instantly, raised himself on one elbow, and returned his friend's gaze earnestly, but without the slightest symptom of surprise. " Charlie," he sf id at last, in a quiet voice, " I wish you hadn't come to me to-night." He stopped, and Charlie felt quite unable to jiyill Inn ' I 174 CIIARLIl!: TO THE RESCUE : A TALE speak, owing to intense pity, mingled with astonish- ment, at such a reception. "It's too bad of you," Shank went on, "worrying me so in my dreams. I 'm weary of it; and if you only knew what a terrible disappointment it is to me when I awake and don't iind you there, you wouldn't tantalise me so. You always look so ter- ribly real too ! Man, I could almost pledge my life that you are no deception this time, but — but I 'm so used to it now that " " Shank, my dear boy," said Charlie, finding words at last, "it is no dec^.ption " He stopped abruptly, for the intense look of eager anxiety, doubt, xnd hope in the thin expres- sive face alarmed him. "Charlie!" gasped, rather than said, the invalid, " you — you never spoke to me before in my dreams, and — you never touched — the grip of your strong h God ! can it be true V At this point Buck Tom suddenly left off his occupation at the fire anc went out of the cave. It liis "O GOlt: CAN IT BE THLKV— Piigc IMAGE EVALUATrON TEST TARGET (MT-3) mt {./ fj. <" w^.. . ( 1 ■ ' ' 1 ij Ii' m i^.i i;h 182 CHARLIE TO TIIK RESCUE : A TALE Dick Darvall, at all events, is not one of his enemies. Indeed he and Roaring Bull took quite a fancy to each other. It seemed like love at first sight. Whether Jackson's pretiy daughter had anything to do with the fancy on Dick's part of course I can't say. Now, I think of it, his readiness to remain behind inclines me to believe it had !" "Well, come outside with me, and have a chat about old times. It is too hot for comfort here. I dare say our friend Shank will spare you for quarter of an hour, and the pot can look after itself. By the way, it would be as well to call me Buck Tom — or Buck. My fellows would not understand Ralph Ritson. They never heard it before. Have a cigar?" " No, thank you, I have ceased to see the advan- tage of poisoning one's-self merely because it is the fashion to do so." " The poison is wonderfully slow," said Buck. " But noc less wonderfully sure," returned Charlie, with a smile. "As you will," rejoined Buck, rising and going outside with his visitor. The night was very still and beautiful, and, the clouds having cleared away, the moonceams struggled through the foliage and revealed the extreme wildness and seclusion of the spot which had been chosen by the outlaws as their fortress. Charlie now saw that the approach to the entrance OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 183 of tlie cave was a narrow neck of rock resembling a natural bridge, with a deep gully on either side, and that the cliff which formed the inner end of the cavern overhung its base, so that if an enemy were to attempt to hurl rooks down from above these would drop beyond the cave altogether. This much he saw at a gL.nce. The minute details and intri- cacies of the place of course could not be properly seen or undersuood in the flickering and uncertain light which penetrated the leafy canopy, and, as it were, played with the shadows of the fallen rocks that strewed the ground everywhere, and hung in apparently perilous positions on the mountain slopes. The manner of the outlaw changed to that of intense earnestness the moment he got out to the open air. " Charlie Brooke," he said, with more of the tone and air of old familiar friendship than he had yet allowed himself to assume, " it 's of no use exciting poor Shank unnecessarily, so I brought you out here to tell you that your man Dick Darvall is in deadly peril, and nothing but immediate action on my part can save him; I must ride without delay to his rescue. You cannot help me in this. I know what you are going to propose, but you nmst trust and obey me if you would save your friend's life. To accompany me would only delay and finally mar my plans. Now, will you " ft li-l ,JI 184 CIIAHLIE to TIIK rescue : A TALE A peculiar whistle far down the gorge caused the outlaw to cease abruptly and listen. The whistle was repeated, and Buck answered it at once with a look of great surprise. " These are my fellows back already ! " he said. " You seem surprised. Did you, then, not expect them so soon ? " "I certainly did not; something must have gone wrong," replied Buck, with a perplexed look. Then, as if some new idea had flashed upon him, " Now, look here, Brooke, I must ask you to trust me implicitly and to act a part. Your life may depend on your doing this." " The first I can do with ease, but as to the latter, my agreeing to do so depends on whether the action you require of me is honourable. You must forgive me, Kits " " Hush ! Don't forget that there is no such man as Ralph Ritson in these mountains. My life may depend on your remembering that. Of course I don't expect you to act a dishonourable part, — all I want you to do just now is to lie down and pre- tend to go to sleep." " Truly, if that is all I am ready," said Charlie ; "at all events I will shut my eyes and hold my tongue." "A useful virtue at times, and somewhat rare," said Buck, leading his guest back into the cavern. "Now, then, Brooke, lie down there," pointing to OF tup: sea and tiik hockiks. 186 a couch of pine-brush in a corner, "and try to sleep if you can." Our hero' at once complied, stretched iiimself at full length with liis face to the light, and apparently went to sleep, but with his left arm thrown over his forehead as if to protect his eyes from the glare of the fire. Thus he was in a position to see as well as hear all that went on. Buck Tom went to the sick man and whispered something to him. Then, returning to the fire, he continued to stir the big pot, and sniff its savoury contents with much interest. i ;. i ':• I ! ,'1 -I n y e* 1 186 CPIARLIE TO niE RESCUE : A TALE CHAPTEE XVI. FRIENDS ANT) FOES— PLOTP. AND COUNTERPLOTS - THE RANCH IN DANGER. In a few miimtes the sound of heavy feet and gruff voices was heard in the outside passage, and next moment ten men filed into the room and saluted their chi3f heartily. Char'^ie felt an almost irresistible tendency to open his eyes, but knew that the risk was too great, and contented himself with his ears. These told him pretty eloquently what was going on, for sud- denly, the noise of voices and clattering of footsteps ceased, a dead silence ensued, and Charlie knew that the whole band were gazing at him with wide open eyes and, probably, open mouths. Their attention had been directed to the stranger by the chief. The silence was only momentary, however. " Now^ don't begin to whisper, pards," said Buck Tom, in a slightly sarcastic tone. " When will ye learn that there is nothing so likely to waken a sleeper as whisperin' ? Be natural — be natural, and tell me, as softly as ye can in your natural tones, OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 187 what has brought you back so soon. Come, Jake, you have got the quietest voice. The poor man is pretty well knocked up and needs rest. I brought him here." " Has he got much ? " the sentence was com- pleted by Jake significantly slapping his pocket. " A goodish lot. But come, sit down and out wi' the news. Something must be wrong." " Wall, I guess that somethin' is wrong. Every- thing 's wrong, as far as I can see. The Eedskins are up, an' the troops are out, an' so it seemed o* no use our goin' to bust up the ranch of Koarin' Bull, seein* that the red devils are likely to be there before us. So we came back here, an' I'm glad you've got suthin' in the pot, for we're about as emj ty as kettledrums." " Humph ! " ejaculated Buck, " didn't I tell you not to trouble Eoarin' Bull — that he and his boys could lick you if you had been twenty instead of ten. But how came ye to hear o' this cock-and- bull story about the Eedskins ? " "We got it from Hunky Ben, an' he's not the bey to go spreadin' false reports." Charlie Brooke ventured at this point to open his eye-lids the smallest possible bit, so that any one looking at him would have failed to observe any motion in them. The little slit, however, admitted the whole scene to the retina, and he perceived that ten of the most cut-throat-looking men conceivable I i i : n: itl ■i !'.t i-- m II 188 CHARLIE TO THE KESCUE : A TALE « di ! were seated in a semicircle in the act of receiving portions from the big pot into tin plates. Most of them were clothed in hunters' leathern costume, wore long boots with spurs, and were more or less bronzed and bearded. Buck Tom, alias lialpli Kitson, although as tall and strong as any of them, seemed a being of quite angelic gentleness beside them., Yet Buck was their acknowledged chief. No doubt it was due to the superiority of mind over matter, for those out- laws were grossly material and matter-of-fact ! " There must be some truth in the report if Hunky Ben carried it," said Buck, looking up quickly, " but I left Ben sitting quietly in David's store not many hours ago." " No doubt that 's true, Captain," said Jake, as he ladled the soup into his capacious mouth ; " never- theless we met Hunky Ben on the pine-river prairie scourin' over the turf like all possessed on Black Polly. We stopped him of course an' asked the news." " ' News ! ' cried he, ' why, the Eedskins have dug up the hatchet an' riz like one man. They 've clar'd out Yellow Bluff, an' are pourin' like Niagara down upon Kasper's Creek. It's said that they'll visit Eoarin' Bull's ranch to-morrow. No time for more talk, boys. Oratin' ain't in my line. I'm off to Quester Creek to rouse up the troops.' Wi' that llunky wlieeled round an' went off like a runaway OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 189 streak o* liglitnin'. I sent a couple o* shots after him, for I 'd took a fancy to Black Polly — but them bullets didn't seem to hit somehow." "Boys," cried Buck Tom, jumping up when he heard this, " if Hunky Ben said all that, you may depend on 't it 's true, an' we won't have to waste time this night if we 're to save the ranch of Eoarin' Bull." " But we don't want to save the ranch of Eoarin' Bull, as far as I'm consarned," said Jake rather sulkily. Buck wheeled round on the man with a fierce glare, but, as if suddenly changing his mind, he said in a tone of well-feigned surprise — " What ! you, Jake, of all men — such a noted lady-killer — indifferent about the fate of the ranch of Eoaring Bull, and pretty Miss Mary Jackson in it, at the mercy of the Eedskins ! " " Well, if it comes to that. Captain, 1 '11 ride as far and as fast as any man to rescue a girl, pretty or plain, from the Eedskins," said Jake, recovering his good-humou.. " Well, then, cram as much grub as you can into you in five minutes, for we must be off by that time. Eise, sir," said Buck, shaking Charlie with some violence. " We ride on a matter of life an' death — to save women. Will you join us ? " " Of course I will ! " cried Charlie, starting up with a degree of alacrity and vigour that 'avourably l' ' m •■it fS^n i! < '. m li hi ; ! . ,.l 'U .' ■ 190 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE: A TALE impressed the outlaws, and shaking off his simulated sleep witli wonderful facility. " Follow me, then," cried Buck, hastening out of the cave. " But what of Shank ? " asked Charlie, in some anxiety, when they got outside. " He cannot accom- pany us ; may we safely leave him behind ? " " Quite safely. This place is not known to the savages who are on the warpath, and there is no- thing to tempt them this way even if it were. Besides, SLauk is well enough to get up and gather firewood, kindle his fire, and boil the kettle for himself. He is used to being left alone. See, here is our stable under the cliff, and yonder stands your horse. Saddle him. The boys will be at our heels in a moment. Some of them are only too glad to have a brush wi' the Eedskins, for they killed two of our band lately." This last remark raised an uncomfortable feeling in the mind of Charlie, for was he not virtually allying himself with a band of outlaws, with intent to attack a band of Indians of whom he knew little or nothing, and with whom he had no quarrel ? There was no time, however, to weigh the case critically. The fact that savages were about to attack the ranch in which his comrade Dick Darvall was staying, and that there were females in the place, was enough to settle the question. In a minute or two he had saddled his horse, which he OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 191 led out and fastened to a tree, and while the outlaws were busy making preparations for a start he ran back to the cave. " Shank," said he, sitting down beside his friend and taking his hand, "you have heard the news. My comrade Darvall is in great danger. I must away to his rescue. But be sure, old fellow, that I will return to you soon." " Yes, yes — I know," returned Shank, with a look of great anxiety ; " but, Charlie, you don't know half the danger you run. Don't fight with Buck Tom — do you hear ? " " Of course I won't," said Charlie, in some sur- prise. "No, no, that's not what I mean," said Shank, with increasing anxiety. " Don't fight in company with him." At that moment the voice of the outlaw was heard at the entrance shouting, " Come along, Brooke, we 're all ready." "Don't be anxious about me, Shank; I'll take good care," said Charlie, as he hastily pressed the hand of the invalid and hurried away. The ten men with Buck at their head were already mounted when he ran out. "Pardon me," he said, vaulting into the saddle, " I was having a word with the sick man." " Keep next to me, and close up," said Buck, as he wheeled to the right and trotted away. N I n 192 'k i- Um CJlAllUE TO THE llESCUE : A TALE Down the Traitor's Trap tliey went at what was to Charlie a break-neck but satisfactory pace, for now that he was fairly on the road a desperate anxiety lest they should be too late took possession of him. Across an open space they went, at the bottom of which ran a brawling rivulet. There was no bridge, but over or through it went the whole band without the slightest check, and onward at full gallop, for the country became more level and open just beyond. The moon was still shining although sinking towards the horizon, and now for the first time Charlie began to note with what a stern and reck- less band of men he was riding, and a feeling of something like exultation arose within him as he thought on the one hand of the irresistible sweep of an onslaught from such men, and, on the other, of the cruelties that savages were known to practise. In short, rushing to the rescue was naturally con- genial to our hero. About the same time that the outlaws were thus hastening for once on an honourable mission — though some of them went from anything but honourable motives — two other bands of men were converging to the same point as fast as they could go. These were a company of United States troops, guided by Hunky Ben, and a large band of Indians under their warlike chief Bigfoot. Jackson, alias Roaring Bull, had once inadvertently OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 193 given offence to Bigfoot, and as that chief was both by nature and profession an unforgiving man he had vowed to have his revenge. Jackson treated the threat lightly, but his pretty daughter Mary was not quite as indifferent about it as her father. The stories of Indian raids and frontier wars and barbarous cruelties had made a deep impression on her sensitive mind, and when her mother died, leaving her the only woman at her father's ranch — with the exception of one or two half-breed women, who could not be much to her as companions — her life had been very lonely, and her spirit had been subjected to frequent, though hitherto groundless, alarms. But pretty Moll, as she was generally called, was well protected, for her father, besides having been a noted pugilist in his youth, was a big, powerful man, and an expert with rifle and revolver. Moreover, there was not a cow-boy within a hundred miles of her who would not (at least thought he would not) have attacked single-handed the whole race of Eedskins if Moll had ordered him to do so as a proof of affection. Now, when strapping, good-looking Dick Darvall came to the ranch in the course of his travels and beheld Mary Jackson, and received the first broad- side from her bright blue eyes, he hauled down his colours and surrendered with a celerity which would have mightily amused the many comrades to whom N 194 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE I ftt- I ; f- -i ! he had said in days of yore that his heart was as harrl as rock, and he had never yet seen the woman as coukl soften it ! But Dick, more than most of his calling, was a modest, almost a bashful, man. He behaved to Mary with the politeness that was natural to him, and with which he would have approached any woman. He did not make the slightest attempt to show his admiration of her, though it is quite within the bounds of possibility that his "speaking" brown eyes may have said something without his permis- sion ! Mary Jackson, being also modest in a degree, of course did not reveal the state of her feelings, and made no visible attempt to ascertain his, but her bluff sagacious old father was not obtuse — neither was he reticent. He was a man of the world — at least of the back-woods world — and his knowledge of life, as there exhibited, was founded on somewhat acute experience. He knew that his daughter was young and remarkably pretty. He saw that Dick Darvall was also young — a dashing and unusually handsome sailor — something like what Tom Bowling may have been. Putting these things together, he came to the very natural conclusion that a wedding would be desirable ; believing, as he did, that human nature in the Eockies is very much the same as to its founda- tion elements as it is elsewhere. Moreover, Koaring Bull was very much in want of a stout son-in-law at that time, so he fanned the flame which he fondly OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 195 hoped was beginning to arise. This he did in a somewhat blundering and obvious manner, but Dick was too much engrossed with Mary to notice it, and Mary was too ignorant of the civilised world's ways to care much for the proprieties of life. Of course this state of things created an awful commotion in the breasts of the cow-boys who were in the employment of Mary's father and herded his cattle. Their mutual jealousies were sunk in the supreme danger that threatened them all, and they were only restrained from picking a quarrel with Dick and shooting him by the calmly resolute look- in his brown eyes, coupled with his great physical power and his irresistible good-nature. Urbanity seemed to have been the mould in which the spirit of this man-of-the-sea had been cast, and gentleness was one of his chief characteristics. Moreover, he could tell a good story, and sing a good song in a fine bass voice. Still further, although those gallant cow-boys felt intensely jealous of this new- comer, they could not but admit that they had nothing tangible to go upon, for the sailor did not apparently pay any pointed attention to Mary, and she certainly gave no special encouragement to him. There was one cow-boy, however, of Irish descent, who could not or would not make up his mind to take things quietly, but resolved, as far as he was concerned, to bring matters to a head. His name was Pat Reilly. <■'. i] i ■ » m H I ■ *j 196 i.-f .'*..! i . ! f ( CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE He entered the kitchen on the day after Dick's aiTival and found Mary alone and busily engaged with the dinner. "Miss Jackson," said Pat, "there's a question I've bin wan tin' to ax ye for a long time past, an' with your lave I '11 putt it now." " What is it, Mr. Eeilly ?" asked the girl somewhat stiffly, for she had a suspicion of what was coming. A little negro girl in the back kitchen named Buttercup also had a suspicion of what was coming, and stationed herself with intense delight behind the door, through a crack in which she could both hear and see. " Mary, my dear," said Pat insinuatingly, " how would you like to jump into double harness with me an' jog along tho path o' life together ? " Poor Mary, being agitated by the proposal, and much amused by the manner of it, bent over a pot of something and tried to hide her blushes and amusement in the steam. Buttercup glared, grinned, hugged herself, and waited for more. Pat, erroneously supposing that silence meant consent, slipped an arm round Mary's waist. No man had ever yet dared to do such a thing to her. The indignant girl suddenly wheeled round and brought her pretty little palm down on the cow- boy's cheek with all her might — and that was considerable ! " Who *s a-firin' off pistles in de kitchen ? " r OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 197 demanded Buttercup in a serious tone, as she popped her woolly head through the doorway. " Nobody, me black darliri'," said Pat ; " it 's only Miss Mary expressin' her failin's in a cheeky manner. That 's all ! " So saying the rejected cow-boy left the scene of his discomfiture, mounted his mustang, took his departure from the ranch of Roarin' Bull without saying farewell, and when next heard of had crossed the lonely Guadalupe mountains into Lincoln County, New Mexico. But to return. While the troops and the outlaws were hastening thus to the rescue of the dwellers in Bull's ranch, and the blood-thirsty Eedskins were making for the same point, bent on the destruction of all its inhabitants. Roaring Bull himself, his pretty daughter, and Dick Darvall, were seated in the ranch enjoying their supper, all ignorant alike of the movements of friend and foe, with Butter- cup waiting on them. One messenger, however, was speeding on his way to warn them of danger. This was the cow- boy Crux, who had been despatched on Bluefire by Hunky Ben just before that sturdy scout had started to call out the cavalry at Quester Creek. Ill }lfl^ irr 198 ClIAULlii TO THE llESCUE : A TALE CHAPTEK XVII. THE ALAKM AND I'llBrAUATlONS KOU DEFKNCE. "FiiOM what you say I should think that my friend Brooke won't have much trouble in findin' Traitor's Trap," remarked Dick Darvall, pausing in the disposal of a venison steak whicl: had been cooked by the fair hands of Mary Jackson lierself, " but I 'm sorely afraid o* the reception he '11 meet with when he gets there, if the men are such awful blackguards as you describe." " They 're the biggest hounds unhung," growled Roaring Bull, bringing one hand down on the board by way of emphasis, while with the other he held out his plate for another steak. " You 're too hard on some of them, father," said Mary, in a voice the softness of which seemed ap- propriate to the beauty of her face. " Always the way wi' you wenches," observed the father. "Some o' the villains are good-lookin', others are ugly ; so, the first are not so bad as the second — eh, lass ? " Mary laughed. She was accustomed to her father's somewhat rough but not ill-natured rebuffs. OF THE SEA. AND THE KOCKIES. 199 "Perhaps 1 may bo prejudicet', fatliur," she re- turned ; " but, apart from that, surely you would never compare Buck Tom with Jake the Flint, though they do belong to the same band." " You a'"e right, my lass," rejoined her father. " They do say that Buck Tom is a gentleman, and often keeps back his boys from devilry — though ho can't always manage that, an* no wonder, for Jake the Flint is the cruellest monster 'tween this an' Texas if all that 's said of him be true." "I wish my comrade was well out o' their clutches," said Dick, with a look of anxiety ; " an' it makes me feel very small to be sittin' here eiijoyin' myself when I might be ridin' on to help him if he should need help." " Don't worry yourself on that score," said the host. "You couldn't find your way without a guide though I was to give ye the best horse in my stable — which I 'd do slick off if it was of any use. There 's not one o' my boys on the ranch just now, but there '11 be four or five of 'em in to-morrow by daylight, an' I promise you the first that comes in. They all know the country for three hundred miles around — every inch — an' you may ride my best horse till you drop him if ye can. There, now, wash down your victuals an' give us a yarn, or a song. •' I 'm quite sure," added Mary, by way of en- couragement, " that with one of the outlaws for an 11 ! \\\ 200 CHARLIE TO THE KESCUE : A TALE U..-a I old friend, Mr. Brooke will be quite safe among them " " But he 's oiot an outlaw, Miss Mary," broke in Darvall. "Leastwise we have the best reason for believin' that he 's detained among them against his will. Hows'ever, it's of no use cryin' over spilt milk. I 'm bound to lay at anchor in this port till mornin', so, as I can c get up steam for a song in the circumstances, here goes for a yarn." The yarn to which our handsome seaman treated his audience was nothing more than an account of one of his numerous experiences on the ocean, but he had such a pleasant, earnest, truth-like, and confi- dential way of relating it, and, withal interlarded his speech with so many little touches of humour, that the audience became fascinated and sat in open-eyed forgetfulness of all else. Buttercup, in particular, became so engrossed as to forget herself as well as her duties, and stood behind her master in an ex- pectant attitude, glaring at the story-teller, with bated breath, profound sympathy, and extreme readi- ness to appreciate every joke whether good or bad. In the midst of one of the most telling of his anecdotes the speaker was suddenly arrested by the quick tramp of a galloping horse, the rider of which, judging from the sound, seemed to be in hot haste. All eyes were turned inquiringly on the master of the ranch. That cool individual, rising with quiet yet rapid action, reached down a magazine mm OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 201 repeating rifle that hung ready loaded above the door of the room. Observing this, Dick Darvall drew a revolver from his coat-pocket and followed his host to the outer door of the house. Mary accompanied them, and Buttercup retired to the back kitchen as being her appropriate stronghold. They had hardly reached and flung open the door when Bluefire came foaming and smoking into the yard with Crux the cow-boy on his back. " Wall, Koaring Bull," cried Crux, leaping off his horse and coming forward as quietly as if there were nothing the matter. " I 'm glad to see you 0. K., for the Cheyenne Eeds are on the war-path, an' makin' tracks for your ranch. But as they 've not got here yet, they won't likely attack till the moon goes down. Is there any chuck goin' ? I 'm half starved." " Ay, Crux, lots o' chuck here. Come in an' let 's hear all about. Where got ye the news ? " " Hunky Ben sent me. He wasn't thinkin' o' you at first, but when a boy came in wi' the news that a crowd o' the Eeds had gone round by Pine Hollow — ^just as he was fixin' to pull out for Quester Creek to rouse up the cavalry — he asked me to come on here an' warn you." While he was speaking the cow-boy sat down to supper with the air of a man who meant business, while the host and his sailor guest went to look after the defences of the place. 202 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE m 1-1 II I ii ** I 'm glad you are here, Dick Darvall," said the former, "for it's a bad job to be obliged to fight without help agin a crowd o' yellin' Eeds. My boys won't be back till sun-up, an' by that time the game may be played out." "D'ee think the Redskins '11 attack us to-night then ? " asked the sailor as he assisted to close th gates of the yard. " Ay, that they will, lad. They know the value o' time better than most men, and, when they see their chance, are not slow to take advantage of it. As Crux said, they won't attack while the moon shines, so we have plenty of time to git ready for them. I wish I hadn't sent off my boys, but as bad luck would have it a bunch o' my steers have drifted down south, an* I can't afford to lose them — so, you see, there 's not a man left in the place but you an' me an' Crux to defend poor Mary." For the first time in his life Dick Darvall felt a distinct tendency to rejoice over the fact that he was a young and powerful man! To live and, if need be, die for Mary was worth living for ! " Are you well supplied with arms an' ammuni- tion ? " he asked. " That am I, and we '11 need it all," answered the host, as he led Dick round to the back of the yard where another gate required fastening. " I don't see that it matters much," said Dick in a questioning tone, " whether you shut the gates or Iti-^ OF THH SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 203 ,not. AVith so few to defend the place the house will be our only chance." " When you 've fought as much wi' Keds as I have, Dick, you'll lam that delay, even for five minutes, counts for a good deal." " Well, there 's somethin' in that. It minds me what one o' my shipmates who had bin in the Lon- don fire brigade once said. * Dick,' said he, ' never putt off what you 've got to do. Sometimes I Ve bin at a fire where the loss of only two minutes caused the destruction of a store worth ten thou- sand pound, more or less. We all but saved it as it was — so near were we, that if we had bin one minute sooner I do believe we'd have saved it. But when we was makin' for that fire full sail, a deaf old applewoman came athwart our bows an' got such a fright that she went flop down right in front of us. To steer clear of her we 'd got to sheer off so that we all but ran into a big van, and, what wi* our lights an' the yellin', the horses o' the van took fright and backed into us as we flew past, so that we a'most went down by the starn. One way or another we lost two minutes, as I 've said, an' the owners o' that store lost about ten thousand pounds — more or less.' " " That was a big pile, Dick," observed the ranch- man, as th'^y turned from the gate towards the house, " not easy to replace." "True — my shipmate never seemed to be quite :'l'rii ■ 1 i:M 204 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE ■ ; \u' l< I m- t ;; \l- n I sure whether it was more or less that was lost, but he thought the Insurance offices must have found it out by that time. It 's a pity there 's only three of us, for that will leave one side o* the house undefended." "All right, Dick* you don't trouble your head about that, for Buttercup fights like a black tiger. She 's a'most as good as a man — only she can't man- age to aim, so it's no ..se givin' her a rifle. She's game enough to fire it, but the more she tries to hit the more she 's sure to miss. However, she 's got t*, way of her own that sarves well enough to defend her side o' the house. She always takes charge o' the front. My Mary can't fight, but she 's a heroine at loadin' — an' that 's somethin' when you 're hard pressed ! Come, now, I '11 show ye the shootin' irons an' our plan of campaign." Koaring Bull led the way back to the room, or central hall, where they had supped, and here they found that the d(5bris of their feast had already been cleared away, and that arms of various kinds, with '1 amunition, covered the board. " Hospitable alike to friend and foe," said Jackson gaily. " Here, you see, Mary has spread supper for theEeds!" Darvall made no response to this pleasantry, for he observed that poor JVl.ary's pretty face was very pale, and that it wore an expression of mingled sadness and anxiety. OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 205 " You won't be exposed to danger, I hope," said Dick, in a low earnest tone, while Jackson was loudly discussing with Crux the merits of one of the repeating rifles — of which there were half-a-dozen on the table. " Oh no ! It is not that," returned the girl sadly. " I am troubled to think that, however the fight goes, some souls, perhaps many, will be sent to their account unprepared. For myself, I shall be safe enough as long as we are able to hold the house, and it may be that God will send us help before long." "You may be quite sure," returned Dick, with suppressed emotion, " that no Eedskin shall cross this threshold as long as we three men have a spark o' life left." A sweet though pitiful smile lighted up Mary's pale face for a moment, as she replied that she was quite sure of that, in a tone which caused Darvall's heart to expand, so that his ribs seemed unable to contain it, while he experienced a sensation of being stronger than Samson and bigger than Goliath ! " And I suppose," continued Dick, " that the troops won't be long of coming. Is the man — what 's his name, Humpy Ben — trustworthy ? " " Trustworthy ! " exclaimed the maiden, with a flush of enthusiasm ; " there is not a more trust- worthy man on this side of the Eocky mountains, or the other side either, I am quite sure." m H ' i..,„t :!;:! I I I- 3 i 206 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE Poor Darvall's heart seemed suddenly to find plenty of room within the ribs at that moment, and his truthful visage must have become something of an index to his state of mind, for, to his surprise, Mary laughed "It seems to me so funny," she continued, "to hear any one ask if Hunky — not Humpy — Ben is to be trusted." " Is he, then, such a splendid young fellow 1 " asked the seaman, with just the slightest touch of bitterness in his tone, for he felt as if a rock some- thing like Gibraltar had been laid on his heart. " Well, he 's not exactly young," answered Mary, with a peculiar expression that made her questioner feol still more uncomfortable, "yet he is scarcely middle-aged, but he certainly is the most splendid fellow on the frontier ; and he saved my life once." " Indeed ! how was that ? " "Well, it was this way. I had been paying a short visit to his wife, who lives on the other side of the " " Come along, Darvall," cried Koaring Bull at that moment. " The moon 's about down, an' we '11 have to take our stations. We shall defend the outworks first, to check them a bit and put off some time, then scurry into the house and be ready for them when they try to clear the fence. Follov: me. Out wi' the lights, girls, and away to your posts." "I'll hear the end of your story another time, OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 207 Miss Mary," said Dick, looking over his shoulder and following his host and Crux to the outer door. The seaman was conscious of a faint suspicion that Mary was wrestling with another laugh as he went off to defend the outworks, but he also, happily, felt that the Eock of Gibraltar had been removed from his lieart ! iM I 208 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE h ' ■ ' CHAPTER XVIII. DEFENCE OF THE RANCH OF ROARING BULL. Every light and every spark of fire had been extinguislied in the ranch of Eoaring Bull when its defenders issued from its doorway. They were armed to the teeth, and glided across the yard to the fence or stockade that enclosed the buildings, leaving the door slightly open so as to be ready for speedy retreat. It had been arranged that, as there was a large open field without bush or tree in the rear of the ranch, they should leave that side undefended at first. "They'll never come into the open as long as they can crawl up through the bush," Jackson had said, while making his final dispositions. " They 're a'most sure to come up in front, thinkin' we 're all a-bed. Now, mind — don't stand still, boys, but walk along as ye fire, to give 'em the notion there 's more of us. An' don't fire at nothin'. They 'd think we was in a funk. An' when you hear me whistle get into the house as quick as a cotton-tail rabbit an' as sly as a snake." After the moon went down, everything in and ; OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 209 around the ranch was as silent as the grave, save now and then the stamp of a hoof on the floor of a shed, where a number of horses stood saddled and bridled ready to mount at a moment's notice ; for Jackson had made up his mind, if it came to the worst, to mount and make a bold dash with all his household through the midst of his foes, trusting to taking them by surprise and to his knowledge of the country for success. For a long time, probably two hours, the three men stood at their posts motionless and silent; still there was no sign, either by sight or sound, of an enemy. The outline of the dark woods was barely visible against the black sky in front of each solitary watcher, and no moving thing could be distinguished in the open field behind either by Crux or Darvall, to each of whom the field was visible. Jackson guarded the front. To Dick, unaccustomed as he was to such war- fare, the situation was very trying, and might have told on his nerves severely if he had not been a man of iron mould ; as it was, he had no nerves to speak of ! But he was a man of lively imagination. More than fifty times within those two hours did he see a black form moving in the darkness that lay between him and the wood, and more than fifty times was his Winchester rifle raised to his shoulder ; but as often did the caution " don't fire at nothin' " rise to his memory. iW: ■■n 210 CHARLIE TO THE llESCUE : A TALE j^ i s i '-II II The stockade was of peculiar construction, because its owner and maker was eccentric and a mechanical genius. Not only were the pickets of which it was composed very strong and planted with just space between to permit of firing, but there was a planking of strong boards, waist high, all round the bottom inside, which afforded some protection to defenders by concealing them when they stooped and changed position. "While matters were in this state outside, Mary Jackson and Buttercup were standing at an upper window just opposite the front gate, the latter with a huge bell-mouthed blunderbuss of the last century, loaded with buckshot in her hands. Mary stood beside her sable domestic ready to direct her not as to how, but where and when, to use the ancient weapon. " You must be very careful. Buttercup," said Mary in a low voice, " not to fire till I tell you, and to point only ivhere I tell you, else you '11 shoot father. And do keep your finger off the trigger ! By-the- way, have you cocked it ? " " missy, I forgit dat," answered the damsel with a self-condemned look, as she corrected the error. " But, don' you fear, Missy Mary. I 's use' to dis yar blunn'erbus. Last time I fire 'im was at a raven. Down goed de raven, blow'd to atims, an' down goed me too — cause de drefful t'ing kicks like a Texas mule. But bress you, I don' mind dat. I 's used to it ! " 1 1 }, OJf' TIIK SEA AND TIIK ROCKIES. 211 Buttercup gave a little sniff of grave scoru with her flat nose, as though to intimate that the or- dinary ills of life were beneath her notice. We have said that all fires had been extinguished, but this is not strictly correct, for in the room where the two maidens watched there was an iron stove so enclosed that the fire inside did not show, and as it was fed with charcoal there were neither flames nor sparks to betray its presence. On this there stood a large cast-iron pot full of water, the bubbling of which was the only sound that broke the pro- found stillness of the night, while the watchers scarcely breathed, so intently did they listen. At last the patient and self-restraining Dick saw a dark object moving towards his side of the stockade, which he felt was much too real to be classed with the creatures of his imagination which had previously given him so much trouble. Without a moment's hesitation the rifle flew to his shoulder, and the prolonged silence was broken by the sharp report, while an involuntary half-suppressed cry proved that he had not missed his mark. The dark object hastily retreated. A neighbouring cliff echoed the sounds, and two shots from his comrades told the sailor that they also were on the alert. Instantly the night was rendered hideous by a series of wild yells and whoops, while, for a moment, the darkness gave place to a glare of light as a hundred rifles vomited their deadly contents, and ■ 1 h !i I li In, 212 CIIAKLIK TO TIIK KESCUK : A TALK the sound of many rushing feet was heard upon the open sward in front of tlio ranch. The three male defenders had ducked their heads below the protecting breast-work when the volley v.'as fired, and then, discarding all idea of further care, they skipped along their respective lines, yelling and firing the repeaters so rapidly, that, to any one ignorant of the true state of things, it must have seemed as if the place were defended by a legion of demons. To add to the hullabaloo Butter- cup's blunderbuss poured forth its contents upon a group of red warriors who were rushing towards the front gate, with such a cannon-like sound and such wonderful effect, that the rush was turned into a sudden and limping retreat. The effect, indeed, was more severe even than Buttercup had intended, for a stray buckshot had actually taken a direction which had been feared, and grazed her master's left arm! Happily the wound was very slight, and, to do the poor damsel justice, she could not see that her master was jumping from one place to another like a caged lion. Like the same animal, however, he gave her to understand what she had done, by shouting in a thunderous bass roar that fully justified his sobriquet — "Mind your eye, Buttercup! Not so low next time!" The immediate result of this vigorous defence was to make the Indians draw off and retire to the OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 213 woods — presumably for consultation. By previous arrangement the negro girl issued from the house with three fresh repeaters in her v ma, ran round to the combatants with them and returned with their almost empty villes. These she and Mary proceeded to reload in the liall, and then returned to their post at the upper front window. The morning was by this time pretty well ad- vanced, and Jackson felt a little uncertain as to what he should now do. It was still rather dark ; but in a very short time, he knew, dawn would spread over the east, when it would, of course, be quite impossible to defend the walls of the little fort without revealing the small number of its defenders. On the other hand, if the\ should retire at once the enemy might find . lodge- ment within, among the outbuildings, before there was light enough to prevent them by picking off the leaders ; in which case the assailants would be able to apply fire to the wooden walls of the house without much risk. " If they manage to pile up enough o' brush to clap a light to," he grumbled to himself in an under tone, " it 't all up wi' us." The thought had barely passed through his brain, when a leaden messenger, intended to pass through it, carried his cap off his head, and the fire that had discharged it almost blinded him. Bigfoot, the chief of the savages, had wriggled himself, snake- r ^ i '.I U ( uHi 214 CHAELIE TO THE RESCUE I A TALE I! If i..-,. Jl fashion, up to the stockade unseen, and while Koar'ng Bull was meditating what was best to be done, he had nearly succeeded in rendering him unable to do anything at all. The shot was the signal for another onslaught. Once more the woods rang with fiendish yells and rattling volleys. Bigfoot, with the agility and strength of a gorilla, leaped up and over the stockade and sprung down into Jackson's arms, while Darvall and Crux resumed their almost ubiquitous process of defence, and Buttercup's weapon again thundered forth its defiance. This time the fight was more protracted. Big- foot's career was indeed stopped for the time being, for Jackson not only crushed the life almost out of him by an unloving embrace, but dealt him a prize-fighter's blow which effectually stretched him on the ground. Not a moment too soon, however, for the white man had barely got rid of the red one, when another savage managed to scale the wall. A blow from the butt of Jackson's rifle dropped him, and then the victor fired so rapidly, and with such effect, that a second time the Beds were repulsed. Jackson did no* again indulge in meditation, but blew a shrill blast on a dog-whistle — a precon- certed signal — ^on hearing which his two comrades made for the house door at full speed. Only one other of the Indians, besides the two already mentioned, had succeeded in getting ovar the OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 215 stockade. This man was creeping up to the open door of the house, and, tomahawk in hand, had al- most reached it when Dick Darvall came tearing round the corner. " Hallo ! Crux," cried Dick, " that you ? " The fact that he received no reply was sufficient for Dick, who was too close to do more than drive the point oi his rifle against the chest of the In- dian, who went down as if he had been shot, while Dick sprang in and held open the door. A word from Jackson and Crux as they ran forward sufficed. They passed in and the massive door was shut and barred, while an instant later at least half-a-dozen savages ran up against it and began to thunder on it with their rifle-butts and tomahawks. " To your windows ! " shouted Jackson, as he sprang up the wooden stair-case, three steps at a time. " Fresh rifles here, Mary ! " " Yes, father," came in a silvery and most unwar- like voice from the hall below. Another moment and three shots rang from the three sides of the house, and of the three Indians who were at the moment in the act of clambering over the stockade, one fell inside and two out. Happily, daylight soon began to make objects dis- tinctly visible, and the Indians were well aware that it would now be almost certain death to any one who should attempt to climb over. It is well known that, as a rule, savages do not I '■i\ Ih I!;- M "Tl •■ 1 ri ; ■ ii ( m 216 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE throw away their lives recklessly. The moment it became evident that darkness would no longer serve them, those who were in the open retired to the woods, and potted at the windows of the ranch, but, as the openings from which the besieged fired were mere loop-holes made for the purpose of defence, they had little hope of hitting them at long range except by chance. Those of the besiegers who happened to be near the stockade took shelter behind the breast- work, and awaited further orders from their chief — ignorant of the fact that he had already fallen. From the loop-holes of the room which Jackson had selected to defend, the shed with the saddled horses was visible, so that no one could reach it wit lout coming under the fire of his deadly weapon. There was also a window in this room opening upon the back of the house and commanding the field which we have before mentioned as being unde- fended while the battle was waged outside. By casting a glance now and then through this window he could see any foe who might show himself in that direction. The only part of the fort that seemed exposed to great danger now was the front door, where the half-dozen savages, with a few others who had joined them, were still battering away at the impregnable door. Dick, who held the garret above, could not see the door, of course, nor could he by any manoiuvre manage to bring his rifle to bear on it from liis at it serve I the but, were they ccept sd to east- chief Q. kson idled ih it ipon. upon iield inde- By idow If ill smed door, ; who t the ie the 3uvre 1 his i I i f f lt.> 'W 1 ' j w ![■ \r m- i III NOW, IJUITEUCUP, GIVE 11' 'KM llol," I'liKc 217, OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 217 loop-hole, and he dared not leave his post lest more Indians should manage to scale the front stockade. Buttercup, in the room below, had indeed a bet- ter chance at her window, but she was too inexpert in warfare to point tiie blunderbuss straight down and fire with effect, especially knowing, as she did, that the sight of her arm in the act would be the signal for a prompt fusillade. But the girl was not apparently much concerned about that or anything else. The truth is that she possessed in an eminent and enviable degree the spirit of entire trust in a leader. She was under orders, and awaited the word of command with perfect equanimity ! She even smiled slightly — if such a mouth could be said to do anything slightly — when Mary left her to take fresh rifles to the defenders overhead. At last the command came from the upper re- gions, in tones that caused the very savages to pause a moment and look at each other in surprise. They did not pause long, however ! " Now, Buttercup," thundered Koaring Bull, " give it 'em— -hot ! " At the word the girl calmly laid aside her weapon, lifted the big iron pot with familiar and business- like facility, and emptied it over the window. The result is more easily imagined than described. A yell that must have been heard miles off was the prelude to a stampede of the most lively nature. It was intensified, if possible, by the further action I'll 4' ' "11 ■ ii I ^ 218 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE of the negress, who, seizing the blunderbuss, pointed it at the flying crowd, and, shutting both eyes, fired ! Not a buckshot took effect on the savages, for But- tercup, if we may say so, aimed too low, but the effect was more stupendous than if the aim had been good, for the heavy charge drove up an inde- scribable amount of peppery dust and small stones into the rear of the flying foe, causing another yell which was not an echo but a magnified reverberation of the first. Thus Buttercup had the satisfaction of utterly routing her foes without killing a single man ! Daylight had fairly set in by that time, and the few savages who had not succeeded in vaulting the stockade had concealed themselves behind the various outhouses. The proprietor of tho ranch began now to have some hope of keeping the Indians at bay until the troops should succour him. He even left his post and called his friends to a council of war, when a wild cheer was heard in the woods. It was followed by the sound of firing. No sooner was this heard than the savages concealed outside of the breastwork rose as one man and ran for the woods. " It 's the troops ! " exclaimed Dick hopefully. " Troopers never cheer like that," returned Jackson with an anxious look. " It 's more like my poor cow-boys, and, if so, they will have no chance wi' such a crowd o' Eeds. We must ride to help them, an' you'll have to ride with us, Mary. We OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 219 daren't leave you behind, lass, wi' them varmints skulkin* around." " I 'm ready, father," said Mary with a decided look, though it was evident, from the pallor of her cheek, that she was ill at ease. "Now, look here, Dick," said Jackson, quickly, "you will go down and open the front gate. I'll go with 'ee wi' my repeater to keep an eye on the hidden reptiles, so that if one of them shows so much as the tip of his ugly nose he'll have cause to remember it. You will go to my loophole. Crux, an* keep your eyes open all round — specially on the horses. When the gate is open I'll shout, and you'll run down to the shed wi' the women. — You understand ? " Crux nodded. Acting on this plan Dick ran to the gate ; Jackson followed, rifle in hand, and, having reached the middle of the fort, he faced round; only just in time to see a gun barrel raised from behind a shed. Before he could raise his own weapon a shot was heard and the gun-barrel disappeared, while the Indian who raised it fell wounded on the ground. " Well done, Crux ! " he exclaimed, at the same moment firing his own rifle at a head which was peeping round a corner. The head vanished in- stantly and Darvall rejoined him, having thrown the gate wide open. " Come round wi' me an' drive the reptiles out," cried Jackson. At tlie same time he uttered a roar I! n 220 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE v-| I a nil J that a bull might have envied, and they both rushed round to the back of the outhouses where three Indians were found skulking. At the sudden and unexpected onslaught, they fired an ineffectual volley and fled wildly through the now open gate, followed by several shots from both pursuers, whose aim, however, was no better than their own had been. Meanwhile Crux and the girls, having reached the shed according to orders, mounted their respective steeds and awaited their comrades. They had not long to wait. Jackson and Dick came round the corner of the shed at full speed, and, without a word, leaped simultaneously into their saddles. " Keep close to me, girls, — close up ! " was all that Jackson said as he dashed spurs into his horse, and, sweeping across the yard and through the gate, made straight for that part of the woods where yells, shouts, and firing told that a battle was raging furiously. OF THE SEA AND THE ItOCKIES. 221 CirAPTER XIX. THE RESCUE AND ITS CONSEQUEN'CES. The ground in the neighbourhood of the ranch favoured the operations of an attacking party, for it was so irregular and so cumbered with knolls and clumps of trees that the defenders of the post scarce dared to make a sally, lest their retreat should be cut off by a detached party of assailants. Hence Jackson would never have dreamed of quitting his house, or ceasing to act on the defen- sive, had he not been under the natural impression that it was his own returning cow-boys who had been attacked and out-numbered by the Indians. Great, therefore, was h/. surprise when, on rounding a bluff and coming into view of the battle-field, the party engaged with the Indians, though evidently white men, were neither his own men nor those of the U. S. troops. He had just made the discovery, when a band of about fifty warriors burst from the woods and rushed upon him. " Back to back, boys ! girls, keep close ! " shouted Jackson, as he fired two shots and dropped two 1 1 222 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE hi-'- 1 if: H Indians. He pulled at a third, but there was no answering report, for the magazine of his repeater was empty. Crux and Darvall turned their backs towards him and thus formed a sort of triangle, in the midst of which were the two girls. But this arrangement, which might have enabled them to hold out for some time, was rendered almost abortive by the ammunition having been exhausted. " So much for bein' in too great a hurry ! " growled Jackson between his clenched teeth, as he clubbed his rifle and made a savage blow at the Indian who first came close to him. It was evident that the Indians were afraid to fire lest they should wound or kill the women; or, perhaps, understanding how matters stood, they wished to capture the white men alive, for, instead of firing at them, they circled swiftly round, endeavouring to distract their atten- tion so as to rush in on them. Bigfoot, who had recovered from his blow and escaped from the ranch, made a sudden dash at Dick when he thought him off his guard, but Dick was not easily caught off his guard in a fight. While in the act of making a furious demonstration at an Indian in front, which kept that savage off, he gave Bigfoot a " back-handed wipe," as he called it, which tumbled the chief completely off his horse. Just then a turn of affairs in favour of the whites was taking place on the battle-field beyond. The i'[ OP THE SKA AND TMK ROCKIES. 223 party there had attacked the savages with such fury as to scatter them right and left, and they were now riding down at racing speed on the com- batants, whose fortunes we have followed thus far. Two men rode well in advance of the party with a revolver in each hand. "Why, it's Charlie Brooke! Hurrah!" yelled Darvall with delight. " An' Buck Tom ! " roared Jackson in amaze- ment. So sudden was the onset that the Indians were for a moment paralysed, and the two horsemen, fir- ing right and left as they rode up, dashed straight into the very midst of the savages. In a moment they were alongside of their friends, while the rest of the outlaw band were already engaged on the out- skirts of the crowd. The very danger of the white men constituted to some extent their safety; for they were so out- numbered and surrounded that the Indians seemed afraid to fire lest they should shoot each other. To add to the confusion, another party of whites suddenly appeared on the scene and attacked the "Eeds" with a wild cheer. This was Jackson's little band of cow-boys. They numbered only eight ; but the suddenness of their appearance tended further to distract the savages. While the noise was at its height a sound, or rather sensation, of many feet beating the earth was II nil i ( li i! 224 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALU '' ( Hi felt. Next moment a compact line was seen to wheel round the bluff where the fight was going on, and a stentorian " Charge ! " was uttered, as the United States cavalry, preceded by Hunky Ben, bore down with irresistible impetuosity on the foe. But the Indians die' '^t await this onset. They turned and fled, scat! aig as they went, and the fight was quickly turned into a total rout and hot pursuit, in which troopers, outlaws, travellers, ranch- men, scouts, and cow-boys joined. The cavalry, however, had ridden far and fast, so that the wiry little mustangs of the plains soon left them behind, and the bugle ere long recalled them all. It was found on the assembling of the forces that not one of the outlaws had returned. Whether they were bent on v ^aking their vengeance still more fully on theij 3, or had good reason for wishing to avoid a meeting with the troops, w«is uncertain ; but it was shrewdly suspected that the latter was the true reason. "But you led the charge with Buck Tom, sir," said Jackson to Charlie, in considerable surprise, "though how you came to be in his companv is more than I can understand." " Here 's somebody that can explain, may-be," said one of the cow-boys, leading forward a wounded man whose face was covered with blood, while he limped as if hurt in the legs. " I found him tryin' to crawl into the brush. D 'ye know him, boys ? " OF TlIK SKA AND TIIK KOCKIKS. 225 "Why, it's Jake tlie Flint!" exclaimed several voices simultaneously; while more than one hand was laid on a revolver, as if to inllict summary punishment. " I claim this man as my prisoner," said the com- mander of the troops, with a stern look that pre- vented any attempt at violence. " Ay, you 've got me at last," said the outlaw, with a look of scorn. " You 've bin a precious long time about it too." " Secure him," said the officer, deigning no reply to these remarks. Two troopers dismounted, and with a piece of rope began to tie the outlaw's hands beliind him. " I arrest you also," said the commander to Charlie, who suddenly found a trooper on each side of him. These took him lightly by each arm, while a third seized his bridle. " Sir ! " exclaimed our hero, while the blood rushed to his forehead, " I am iiot an outlaw ! " " Excuse me," returned the officer politely, " but my duty is plain. There are a good many gentle- manly outlaws about at present. You are found joining in fight with a notorious band. Until you can clear yourself you must consider yourself my prisoner. — Disarm and bind him." For one moment Charlie felt an almost irresistible impulse to fell the men who held him, but fortunately the absurdity of his position forced itself on him. II n "t ! 226 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE and he submitted, well knowing that his innocence would be established immediately. " Is not this man one of your band, Jake ? " asked the officer quietly. " Yes, he is," replied tlie man with a malevolent grin. " He 's not long joined. This is his first scrimmage with us." Charlie was so thunderstruck at this speech that he was led back to the rauch in a sort of dazed condition. As for Dick Darvall, he was rendered speechless, and felt disposed to regard the whole thing as a sort of dream, for his attempted explana- tions were totally disregarded. Arrived at the house, Charlie and Jake were locked up in separate rooms, and sentries placed beneath their windows — this in addition to the security of hand-cuffs and roped arms. Then break- fast was prepared for the entire company, and those who had been wounded in the fight were attended to by Hunky Ben — a self-taught sui'geon — with Mary and Buttercup to act as dressers. "I say, Jackson," observed Darvall, when t-^e worthy ranch-man found leisure to attend to him, "of course you know that this is all nonsense— an abominable lie about my friend Brooke being an outlaw ? " " Of course I do, Dick," said Jackson, in a tone of sympathy ; " an' you may be cock-sure I '11 do what I can to help 'im. Bat he'll have to prove himself ) OF THE SEA AND THE llOCKIES. 2*^7 fiim, -an an ie of ^hat isolf a true man, an' there are some mysteries about him that it puzzles me to think how iie '11 clear 'em up." " Mysteries ? " echoed DicJ<:. " Ay, mysteries. I've had some talk wi' HunLy Ben, an' he's as much puzzled as myself, if not more." "Well, then, I'm puzzled more than either of ye," returned Dick, " for my friend and mate is as true a man — all straight an' aboveboard — as ever I met with on sea or land." " That may be, boy, but there 's some mystery about him, somehow." " Can ye explain what the mystery is, Jackson ? " " Well, this is what Hunky Ben says. He saw your friend go olf the other night alone to Traitor's Trap, following in the footsteps o' that notorious out- law Buck Tom. Feelin' sure that Buck meant to waylay your friend, Hunk} followed him up and overshot him to a place where he thought it likely the outlaw would lay in wait. Sure enough, when he got there he found Buck squattin' behind a big rock. So he waited to see what would turn up and be ready to rescue your friend. An' what d' ye think did turn up ? " " Don' kno w," said Dick, with a look of solemn wonder. " Why, when Buck stepped out an' bid him throw up his hands, your friend merely looked at Buck and said somethin' that Hunky couldn't hear, an' It'll JH •t! \l- m rPf 228 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALK 11! 11 ^^1 i then Buck dropped his pistol, an' your friend got off his horse and they shook hands and went off as thick as thieves tc^'^-ther. An' now, as you 've seen an' heard, your friend turns up headin' a charge of the outlaws — an' a most notable cliarge it was — alongside o' Buck Tom. Jake the Flint too claims him for a comrade. Pretty mysterious all that, ain't it ? " " May I ask," said Dick, with some scorn in his tone, " who is this Hunky Ben, that his word should be considered as good as a bank-note ? " " He 's the greatest scout an' the best an' truest man on the frontier," replied Jackson. " H'm ! so Miss Mary seems to think too." " An' Mary thinks right." " An' who may this Jake the Flint be ? " asked the sailor. " The greatest scoundrel, cattle and horse stealer, and cut-throat on the frontier." "So then," rejoined Dick, with some bitterness, " it would seem that my friend and mate is taken up for an outlaw on the word o' the two greatest men on the frontier ! " "It looks like it, Dick, coupled, of course, wi' your friend's own actions. But never you fear, man. There must be a mistake o' some sort, some- where, an' it's sure to come out, for I'd as soon believe my Mary to be an outlaw as your friend — though I never set eyes on him before the other day. 11" :i ■ OF THE SEA AND THE llOCKIKS. 229 The fact is, Dick, that I've learned physiognomy since " " Fizzi-what-umy ? " interrupted Dick. " Physiognomy — the study o' faces — since I came to live on the frontier, an' I 'm pretty sure to know an honest man from a rogue as soon as I see him an* hear him speak — thougli I can't always prove myself right," While Dick and his host were thus conversing, and the soldiers were regaling themselves in the hall, the commander of the troops and Hunky Ben were engaged in earnest conversation with Charlie Brooke, who gave an account of himself that quite cleared up the mystery of his meeting, and after- wards being found associated with, the outlaws. " It 's a queer story," said Hunky Ben, wlio, besides being what his friends called a philosopher, was prone at times to moralise. "It's a queer story, an' shows that a man shouldn't bounce at a conclusion till he's larned all the ins an' outs of a matter." " Of course, Mr. Brooke," said the officer, when Dick had finished his narration, " your companion knows all this and can corroborate what you have said?" " Not all," replied Charlie. " He is an old ship- mate whom I picked up on arriving at New York, and only knows that I am in search of an old school-fellow who has given way to dissipation and r? < ' '^1 m I lit ii in 230 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE got into trouble here. Of my private and family affairs he knows nothing." "Well, you have cleared yourself, Mr. Brooke," continued the Captain, whose name was Wilmot, " but I *m sorry to have to add that you have not cleared the character of your friend Leather, whose name has for a considerable time been associated with the notorious band led by your old school- fellow Piitson, who is known in this part of the country as Buck Tom. One of the worst of this gang of highwaymen, Jake the Flint, has, as you know, fallen into my hands, and will soon receive his deserts as a black-hearted murJevcr. I have recently obtained trustworthy information as to the whereabouts of the gang, and I am sorry to say that I shall have to ask you to guide me to their den in Traitor's Trap." " Is it my duty to do this ? " asked Charlie, with a troubled look at the officer. " It is the duty of every honest man to facilitate the bringing of criminals to justice." " But I have strong reason for believing that my friend Leather, although reckless and dissipated, joined these men unwillingly — was forced to do it in fact — and has been suffering from the result of a severe injury ever since joining, so that he has not assisted them at all in their nefarious work. Then, as to Ritson, I am convinced that he repents of his course of conduct. Indeed, I know that his men i( OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 231 have been rebellious of late, and this very Jake has been aspiring to the leadership of the gang." "Your feelings regarding these men may be natural," returned the captain, " but my duty is to use you in this matter. Believing what you say of yourself I will treat you as a gentleman, but if you decline to guide me to the nest c^ this gang I must treat you still as a prisoner." "May I have a little time to think over the matter before answering ? " "So that you may have a chance of escaping me ?" replied the Captain. "Nothing was further from my thoughts," said Charlie, with a flush of indignation. " I believe you, Mr. Brooke," rejoined the Captain with gravity. " Let me know any time before twelve to-day what course you deem it right to take. By noon I shall sound boot and saddle, when you will be ready to start. Your nautical friend here may join us if he chooses." Now, while this investigation into the affairs of one prisoner was going on, the other prisoner, Jake, was busily employed investigating his own affairs with a view to escape. How he fared in this investigation we reserve for another chapter. J I I'l 'll J -!-«■ 232 CHAKUE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE r.\.. m m" i'%- CHAPTEK XX. JAKE THE FLINT IN DIFFICULTIES. The man who, at the time we write of, was known by the name of Jake the Flint had acquired the character of the most daring and cruel scoundrel in a region where villains were by no means rare. His exploits indicated a spirit that was utterly reckless of life, whether his own or that of his fellow- men, and many were the trappers, hunters, and Redskins who would have given a good deal and gone far to have the chance of putting a bullet in his carcass. But, as is not unfrequently the case with such men, Jake seemed to bear a charmed life, and when knife, bullet, and rope, cut short the career of many less guilty men, Jake had hitherto managed to elude his captors — at one time by strategy, at another by a bold dash for life, and sometimes bv " luck." No one had a kind word for Jake, no one loved, though many feared, admired, and hated him. This may seem strange, for it is usually found that even in the case of the most noted outlaws there is a woman or a man, or both — who cling to them with affection. m OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 233 Perhaps the fact that Jake was exceptionally harsh and cruel at all times, may account for this, as it accounted for his sobriquet of Flint. He was called by some of those who knew him a " God-forsaken man." We merely state the fact, but are very far from adopting the expression, for it ill becomes any man of mortal mould to pronounce his fellow-man God-forsaken. In the meantime we feel it to be no breach of charity to say that Jake had forsaken God, for his foul language and bloody deeds proved the fact beyond all question. He was deceitful as well as cruel, and those whi> knew him best felt sure that his acting under Buck Tam was a mere ruse. There is little doubt that he had done so for the purpose of obtaining an influence over a gang of desperadoes, ready to hand, as it were, and that the moment he saw his opportunity he would kill Buck Tom and take command. The only thing that had kept him from doing so sooner, it was thought, was the fact that Buck had the power to gain the affection of his m^ n, as well as to cause them to fear him, so that Jake had not yet found the time ripe for action. After the outlaw had been put into the room by himself, as already stated, the door locked, and a sentry posted below the window, he immediately turned with all his energy to examine into his cir- cumstances and prospects. First of all his wrists were manacled. That, however, gnve him little ! ! i '■'; l? 234 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE it mr concern, for his hands were unusually small and delicate, and he knew from experience that he could slip them out of any handcuffs that would close easily on his wrists — a fact that he had carefully concealed, and of which men were not yet aware, as he had not yet been under the necessity of availing himself of the circumstance. The rope with which he had been bound on the way to the ranch had been removed, the handcuffs being deemed sufficient. As the window of his prison was over thirty feet from the ground, and a sentinel with a carbine and revolver stood below, it was thought that the bird who had so frequently escaped his cage before was safe at last, and fairly on his way to the gallows. Not so thought Jake the Flint. Despair did not seem to be a possibility to him. Accordingly, he examined his prison carefully, and with a hopeful smile. The examination was soon completed, for the room presented no facilities whatever for escape. There was no bed from which to take the sheets and blankets to extemporise a rope. No mattress to throw over the window so as to break a heavy man's fall. No chimney by which to ascend to the roof, no furniture, indeed, of any kind beyond a deal chair and table. The door was of solid oak and bolted outside. Obviously the window was his only chance. He went to it and looked out. The depth was too OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 235 much, he knew, for even his strong bones to stand the shock ; and the sentinel paced to and fro under- neath with loaded carbine. " If any one would only lay a feather-bed down there," thought Jake, "I'd jump an' take my chance." While he was gazing meditatively on the fair prospect of land and water that lay before him, one of the bolts of the door was withdrawn, then an- other, and the door slowly opened. For an instant the outlaw gathered himself up for a rush, with a view to sell his life dearly, and he had even begun to draw one of his hands out of the manacles, when the folly and hopelessness of the attempt struck him. He quickly checked himself, and met his jailor (one of the troopers) with a smiling countenance as he entered and laid a loaf and a jug of water on the table. The rattle of a musket outside told Jake that his jailor had not come alone. Without a word the man turned, and was leaving the room, when Jake, in a voice of great humility, asked him to stop. " You couldn't remove these things, could you ? " he said, holding out his fettered hands. " No," answered the trooper, sharply. "Ah!" sighed Jake, "I feared it was agin the rules. You couldn't let me have the use of a file, could you, for a few minutes ? What ! agin' rules u li !' . ■ ^ ! ! 11 % Ill 236 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE 5 i i II too ? It 's a pity, for I 'm used to biusli my teeth with a file of a mornin', an' I like to do it before breakfast." Jake interlarded his speech with a variety of oaths, with which we will not defile the paper, but he could extract no further reply from the trooper than a glance of scorn. Left to himself, Jake again went to the window, which was a small cottage one, opening inwards like a door. He opened it and looked out. The sentinel instantly raised his carbine and ordered him to shut it. " Hullo ! Silas, is that you ? " cried Jake in sur- prise, but paying no attention to the threat, " I thought you had quit for Heaven durin' the last skrimidge wi' the Eeds down in Kansas ? Glad to see you lookin* so well. How 's your wife an' the child'n, Silas ? " " Come now, Jake," said the trooper sternly, " you know it 's all up with you, so you needn't go talkin' bosh like that — more need to say your prayers. Stand back and shut the window, I say, else I '11 put a bullet through your gizzard." '* Well now, Silas," said Jake, remonstratively, and opening the breast of his red shirt as he spoke, " I didn't expect that of an old friend like you — indeed I didn't. But, see here, if you raaly are goin' to fire take good aim an' keep clear o' the heart and liver. The gizzard lies hereabout (pointing to his bioast) OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 237 and easy to hit if you 'vo a steady hand. I know the exact spot, for I *ve had the cuttin' up of a good bunch o' men in my day, an' I can't bear to see a thing muddled. But hold on, Silas, I won't put ye to the pain o' shootin' me. I '11 sliut the window if you '11 make me a promise." "What's that?" demanded the trooper, still covering the outlaw, however, with his carbine. " You know I 'm goin' to my doom — that 's what poetical folk call it, Silas — an' I want you to help me wind up my affairs, as the lawyers say. "Well, this here (holding up a coin) is my last dollar, the remains o' my fortin', Silas, an' this here bit o' paper that I 'm rappin' round it is my last will an' testi- monial. You'll not refuse to give it to my only friend on arth, Hunky Ben, for I've no wifj ^ r chick to weep o'er my grave, even though they knew where it was. You '11 do this for me, Silas, won't you ? " " All right — pitch it down." Jake threw the coin, which fell on the ground a few feet in front of the trooper, who stooped to pick it up. With one agile bound the outlaw leaped from the window and descended on the trooper's back, which was broken by the crashing blow, and Jake rolled over him with considerable violence, but the poor man's body had proved a sufficient buffer, and Jake rose unhurt. Deliberately taking the carbine from :it Ml 11 m j 1 islrl !»• I III jt lii 238 CIIARLIK TO THE IIKSCUE : A TALE the dead man's hand, and phicking the revolver from his belt, he sauntered off in the direction of the stables. These being too small to contain idl the troop-horses, some of the animals were picketed in an open shed, and several troopers were rubbing them down. The men took Jake for one of the cow-boys of the ranch, for he passed them whistling. Entering the stable he glanced quickly round, selected the finest horse, and, loosing its halter from the stall, turned the animal's head to the door. "What are ye doin* wi' the captain's horse?" deiAanded a trooper, who chanced to be in the neighbouring stall. " The captain wants it. Hold his head till I get on him. He's ^risky," said Jake, in a voice of authority. The man was taken aback and obeyed; but as Jake mounted he turned suddenly pale. The outlaw, observing the change, drew the re- volver, and, pointing it at the trooper's head, said, in a low savage voice, " A word, a sound, and your brains are on the floor!" The man stood Jake shoo^ the througl as he ., j.^ ' ) I' ,U' ii-mouthed, as if petrified, 'le fiery horse and bounded -ooping to the saddle-bow see, even at that moment, that til troop r, recovering himself, was on the point of utteriiig a shout. Wheeling round in the 1 OF TIIK SEA AND TIIK ROCKIES. 239 saddle he fired, and the man fell with a bullet in his hrain. The shot of course aroused the whole ranch. Men rushed into the yard with and without arms in wild confusion, but only in time to see a flying horseman cross the square and make for the gate. A rattling irregular volley was sent after him, but the only effect it had was to cause the outlaw to turn round in the saddle and wave his hat, while he gave vent to a yell of triumph. Another moment and he was beyond the bluff and had disappeared. " Boot and saddle ! " instantly rang out at the ranch, and every preparation was made for pursuit, though, mounted as Jake was on the best horse of the troop, they could not hope to overtake him. Hunky Ben, at his own particular request, was permitted to go on in advance. " You see, sir," he said to the captain, " my Black Polly an't quite as good as your charger, but she 's more used to this sort o' country, an' I can take the short cuts where your horse could hardly follow." " Go, Ben, and good luck go with you ! Besides, we can do without you, now that we have Mr. Brooke to guide us." " Come wi' me, sir," said Hunky Ben, as he passed Charlie on his way to the stables. "Don't you hesitate, Mr. Brooke, to guide the captain to the cave of Buck Tom. I 'in goiu' on before you to ■ ■ • 1 ; 240 CHAllLIE TO THE KKSCUE : A TALE B hunt up the rej^tiles — to try an' catch Jake the Flint!" The scout chuckled inwardly as he said this. " But why go in advance ? You can never over- take the scoundrel with such a start and on srch a horse." " Never you mind what I. can or can't do," said Ben, entering the stable where the dead trooper still lay, and unfastening Black Polly. "I've no time to explain. All T know is that your friend Leather is sure to be hanged if he 's cotched, an' I 'in sure he 's an innocent man — therefore, I 'm goin' to save him. It 's best for you to know nothin' more than that, for I see you 're not used to tellin' lies. Can you trust mel" " Certainly I can. The look of your face, Ben, even more chan the character you bear, would in- duce me to trust you." " Well then, Mr. Brooke, the first sign o' trust is to obey orders without askin' questions." " True, when the orders are given by one who has a right to command," returned Charlie. "Just so, an' my right to command lies in the fact that the life o' your friend Leather depends on your obedience." " I 'm your humble servant, then. But what am I to do ? " "Do whatever Captain Wilmot orders without objectin', an' speak nothing but the truth. You he on an 'oil OF THE SEA AND THE llOCKIES. 241 don't need to speak the wliolc truth, hows'ever," added the scout thoughtfully, as he led out his coal-black steed. "Your friend Leather has got a Christian name of course. Don't mention it. I don't want to hear it. Say nothin' about it to anybody. The time may come when it may be useful to irop the name of Leather and call your friend Mister whatever the tother name may be. Now mind whiit I 've said to ye." As he spoke the last words the scout touched the neck of his beautiful mare, and in another minute was seen racing at full speed over the rolling plain. IS Q "'^ ' ; -■iH 1 i i 242 CHARLJE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE CHAPTER XXI. TELLS OP A CRUEL DEED, AND SHOWS HOW MYSTERIOUSLY HUNKY BEN BEHAVED. When Jake escaped from the ranch of Roar- ing Bull he tried the mettle of Captain Wilmot's charger to the uttermost, for well he knew that the pursuit would be instant and vigorous; that his late comrade Charlie Brooke could guide the troops to the cavern in Traitor's Trap, and that if his companions, who would doubtless ride straight back, were to escape, they must be warned in time. He also knew that the captain's charger was a splendid one. In order to accomplish his purpose, therefore, he would ride it to death. The distance between the ranch and the outlaws' cave was not so great but that any mustang in the plains could have traversed it in a day, but the cruel man had made up his mind that the captain's charger should do it in a few hours. It is not so much distance as pace that kills. Had any consi- deration whatever been extended to the noble crea- ture by the ignoble brute who rode it, the good horse would have galloped to the head of the Trap •m OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 243 almost without turning a hair. At iirst he strode out over the rolling prairie with the untiring vigour of a well-made frame and a splendid constitution, leaping the little cracks and inequalities of the ground in the exuberance of his strength ; though there was no need to bound, and coursing over the knolls as easily as he cantered down the hollows, while his flashing eye betokened at once a courage- ous and a gentle spirit. But when the lower slopes of the hills were reached, and steepish gradients were met with here and there, the horse began to put back first one ear and then the other, and some- times both, as if in expectation of the familiar " well done," or pat on the neck, or check of the rein with which the captain had been wont to sanc- tion a slackening of the pace, but no such grace was allowed him. On the contrary, when the first symp- tom appeared of a desire to reduce speed Jake drove his cruel spurs into the charger's glossy side. With a wild snort and bound the horse stretched out again and spurned the ground as if in indignant surprise. Then the breath began to labour slightly; the sweat to darken his rich brown coat, and the white foam to fleck his broad chest. Still Jake pressed him on with relentless fury. It could not be expected that a man who cared not for his fellows would have much consideration for his beast. Murder of a deeper dye than that of a horse was i li m 214 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE I seething in the outlaw's brain. This to him useless expedition, which had so nearly cost him his life, would be the last that Buck Tom should command. After blowing out his brains he would warn the others of the impending danger and lead them away to other and more favourable fields of enterprise. At this point the good horse stumbled and almost threw his rider, who, with horrible curses, plied the spurs and tugged at the bit until blood was mingled with the flying foam. Never, save once — when Captain Wilmot was caught alone in the plains by Cheyenne Indians and had to fly for his life — had the good charger been urged to anything like such an effort as he was now called on to make, and then there was no cruelty mingled with the urging. The very tone of his master's voice, as he patted the neck and shook the rein and gently touched him with the spur, must have convinced the intelligent creature that it was a matter of life or death — that there was a stern need-be for such haste. Turning at last into the gorge of the Trap, the charger gasped and sobbed with distress as he faced the steep ascent and tried, with the unabated courage of a willing heart, to pull himself together while the unmerciful monster still drove in the spurs and galled his tender mouth. But the brave effort was unavailing. Stumbling over a root that crossed the path, the horse plunged forward, and fell with a crash, sendini? his rider over his head. OF THE SKA AND THE KOCKIES. 245 lie .ve lat Aid ad. Jake, alighting on his face and riglit shoulder, lay stunned for a few seconds. Then he jumped up, displaying torn garments and a face covered with blood. -Running to the horse's head he seized the rein and shook it savagely, kicking the animal's face with his heavy boots in his anxiety to make it rise, but the poor charger was beyond his cruelty by that time, for its neck had been broken by the fall. Oh ! it was one of those sights which are fitted to make even thoughtless men recognise the need of a Saviour for the human race, and to reject with something like scorn the doctrine — founded on wholly insufficient evidence — that there is no future of compensation for the lower animals ! The outlaw did not waste time in vain regrets. Bestowing a meaningless curse on the dead charger, he turned and went up the narrow glen at a smart pace, but did not overstrain himself, for he knew well that none of the troop-horses could have kept up with him. He counted on having plenty of time to warn his comrades and get away without hurry. But he reckoned without his host — being quite ignorant of the powers of Black Polly, and but slightly acquainted with those of her master Hunky Ben. Indeed so agile were the movements of Polly, and so thoroughly was the scout acquainted with the by-paths and short cuts of that region, that he m f: 1 246 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE actually passed the fugitive and reached the head of Traitor's Trap before him. This he managed by forsaking the roads, keeping a straighter line for the outlaws' cave, and passing on foot over the shoulder of a hill where a horseman could not go. Thus he came down on the cavern, about half-an- liour before Jake's arrival. Clambering to the crevice in the cliff against which the cave abutted, and sliding down into a hollow on its earthen roof, he cautiously removed a small stone from its posi- tion, and disclosed a hole through which he could both hear and see most of what took place inside. Lest any one should wonder at the facility with which the ground lent itself to this manoeuvre, we may as well explain that the bold scout possessed one of those far-reaching minds which are not satis- fied without looking into everytliing, — seeing to the bottom of, and peering round to the rear of, all things, as far as possible. He always acted on the principle of making himself acquainted with every road and track and by-path, every stream, pond, river, and spring in the land. Hence he was well aware of this haunt of outlaws, and, happening to be near it one day when its owners were absent, he had turned aside to make the little arrangement of a peep-hole, in the belief that it might possibly turn out to be of advantaf?e in course of time ! The clump of shrubs and grass on the rugged bank; which formed the top of the cave, effectu- he of irn tu- OF THE SEA AND THE KOCKIES. 247 ally concealed the natural hollow which he had deepened, and the overhanging mass of the rugged cliff protected it from .ain and dew. . What Hunky Ben saw on looking through his peep-hole filled him with surprise and pity, and compelled him to modify his plans. Almost below him on a brush couch, lay the tall form of Buck Tom, with the unmistakable hue of approaching death upon his countenance. Beside him, holding his head, kneeled the much-wasted figure of Leather — the reputed outlaw. Seated or standing around in solemn silence were six of the outlaws, most of whom bore tokens of the recent fight, in the form of bandage on head or limb. '* I brought you to this, Leather ; God forgive me," said the dying man faintly. " No, you didn't, Ealph," replied the other, calling him by his old familiar name, " I brought myself to it. Don't blame yourself, Ealph ; you weren't half so bad as me. You 'd never have been here but for me. Come, Kalph, try to cheer up a bit ; you're not dying. It 's only faint you are, from loss of blood and the long gallop. When you 've had a sleep and some food, you '11 feel stronger. We '11 fetch a doctor soon, an' he '11 get hold o' the bullet. Dear Ealph, don't shake your head like that an' look so solemn. Cheer up, old boy 1" Leather spoke with a sort of desperate fervour, but Ealph could not cheer up. m\ f I I 248 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE " No," he said sadly, " there is no cheer for me. I *ve thrown my life away. There 's no hope — no mercy for me. I 've been trying to recall the past, an' what mother used to teach me, but it won't come. There 's only one text in all the Bible that comes to me now. It's this — 'Be sure your sin will find you out!' That's true, boys," he said, turning a look on his comrades. " Whatever else may be false, that 's true, for I knoiv it." " That 's so, dear Kalph," said Leather earnestly, " but it's no less true that " Just then a noise was heard in the outer pass- age; then hurrying footsteps. Instinctively every man drew his revolver and faced the door. Next moment Jake entered. " Here, one of you ; a drink — I'm fit to ha !" His eyes fell on the figure of Buck and he shrank back for a moment in silent surprise. " Yes, Jake," said the dying man, with a glance of pity not unmingled with scorn, " it has come sooner than you or I expected, and it will save you some trouble — maybe some regret. I've seen through your little game, Jake, end am glad I've been spa-^^d the necessity of thwarting you." He stopped owing to weakness, and Jake, re- covering himself, hastily explained the reason of his sudden appearance. " Fetch me a rag an' some water, boys," he con- tinued. " It looks worse than it is — only skin deep. % OF THE SEA AND THE KOCKIES. 249 And we 've not a moment to lose. Those who have a mind may follow me. Them that wants to swing may stop." " But how about Buck Tom ? " asked one who was not quite so depraved as the others. "What's the use o' askin'?" said Jake. "It's all up with him, don't you see ? Besides, he 's safe enough. They'd never have the heart to hang a dying man." "An' Leather!" cried another. "We mustn't quit Leather. He's game for many a fight yet. Come, Leather; we'll help you along, for they're sure to string you up on the nearest tree." " Don't trouble yourself about me," said Leather, looking round, for he still kneeled beside his old friend, "I don't intend to escape. Look to your- selves, boys, an' leave us alone." " Unless you 're all tired o' life you '11 quit here an' skip for the woods," said Jake, as, turning round, he hurriedly left the place. The others did not hesitate, but followed him at once, leaving Buck Tom, and his friend to shift for themselves. During all this scene Hunky Ben had been in- tently gazing and listening — chiefly the latter. When the outlaws filed past him he found it ex- tremely difficult to avoid putting a bullet into the Flint, but he restrained himself because of what yet remained to be done. 1;; I ■■■iii' ;iif: 250 CIIAKLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE As soon as the outlaws were well out of sight Ben arose and prepared for action. First of all he tightened his belt. Then he pulled the hood of his coat well over his head, so that it effectually con- cealed his face, and, still further to accomplish the end in view, he fastened the hood in front with a wooden pin. Proceeding to the stable he found, as he had hoped and expected, that the outlaws had left one or two horse-cloths behind in their flight. In one of these he enveloped his person in such a way as to render it unrecognisable. Then he walked straight into the cave, and, without a word of warn- ing, threw hi'j strong arms around Shank Leather and lifted him off the ground. Of course Leather shouted and struggled at first, but as well might a kitten have struggled in the grip of a grizzly bear. In his worn condition he felt himself to be utterly powerless. Buck Tom made a feeble effort to rise and help him, but the mere effort caused him to fall back with a groan of helpless despair. Swiftly his captor bore Leather up the side of the hill till he got behind a clump of trees, into the heart of which he plunged, and then set his burden down on his feet. At the same time, throwing back his hood and flinging away the horse-cloth, he stood up and smiled. " Hunky Ben, or his ghost ! " exclaimed Shank, forgetting his indignation in his amazement. OF THK SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 251 of he len nk, "You're riglit, young man, though you've only see'd me once that I know of. But most men that see me once are apt to remember me." " Well, Hunky," said Leather, while the indigna- tion began to return, "you may think this very amusing, but it's mean of a big strong man like you to take advantage of a fellow that 's as wtak as a child from wounds an* fever. Lend me one o' your six-shooters, now, so as we may stand on somewhat more equal terms and but a truce to boasting ! I 'm sure that you wouldn't keep smiling at me like a Cheshire cat if there wasn't something behind this." " You 're right, Mr. Leather," said Ben, becoming at once grave and earnest. There is somethin' be- hind it — ay, an' somethin' before it too. So much, thi\t I have barely time to tell 'ee. So, listen wi' both ears. There 's a bunch o' men an' troops close to the Trap even now, on their way to visit your cave. If they find you — you know what that means ? " " Death," said Leather quietly. " Ay, death ; though ye don't desarve it," said Ben. "But I do deserve it," returned Shank in the same quiet voice. " Well, may-hap you do," rejoined the scout coolly, " but not, so far as I know, in connection wi' your present company. Now, there 's Buck Tom " " Ay, what of him ? " asked Shank, anxiously. "Well, in the nat'ral course o' things, death is i{|> if i ,ii iiir III ^>'i i 252 CHARLIE TO THE IlESCUE : A TALE comin' to him too, an' that '11 save him t.'om bein' strung up — for they 're apt to do that sort o* thing hereaway in a loose free-an-easy style that 's awk- ward sometime. I was within an inch of it myself once, all througli a mistake — I '11 tell 'ee about that when I 've got more time, maybe. Well, now, I 'm keen to save you an' Buck Tom if I can, and what I want you to understand is, that if you expect me to help you at a time when you stand considerable in need o' help, you '11 have to do what I tell 'ee." "And what would you have me do?" asked Shank, with a troubled look. " Kemain here till I come for 'ee, and when you meet me in company say nothin' about havin' met me before." "Can I trust you, Huriky Ben?" said Shank, looking at him earnestly. " If you can't trust me, what d' ye propose to do ? " asked the scout with a grin. "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 Kalph — Buck Tom, I mean. You 're sure, I suppose, that Mr. Brooke will do his best to shield 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 OF THE SEA AND THE UOCKIES. 253 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 re- covered by that time. " I wish you had turned up lialf-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 wajn you in time, so 's you might escape. To tell you the plain truth, Ealph 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." ii 'I m 251 CHAllLIE TO THK RESCUE : A TALE "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." " Straiige ! " 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 '11 never think o* hangin' you till ye can walk to the gallows — so cheer u^. 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, ind 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. y''^ M.^ OF THE SICA AND THE ItOCKIES. 255 CHAPTER XXII. THE CAVE OF THE OUTLAWS INVADED BY GHOSTS AND U.S. TUOOPS. 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 easior that he had nothing to con- ceal 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 chat Leatlier 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 un- usually 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 out- laws had gone to he could not tell — of course tliey iff^^ 256 CHARLIE TO THE llESCUE : A TALE 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." " Passing strange ! " murmured Captain Wilniot, glancing at the scout, who was at the moment seated on a keg before the fire lighting his pipe, and with a look of simple benignant stolidity on his grave countenance. " Have you no idea, Ben, where these outlaws have taken themselves off to ? " " No more 'n a lop-eared rabbit. Captain Wilmot," answered the scout. " You see there 's a good many paths by which men who knows the place could git out o' the Trap, an' once out o it there 's the whole o' the Rockie range wliere to pick an' choose." " But how comes it, Ben, that you missed Jake ? Surely the road is not so broad that you could pass him unseen ! Yet you arrived here before him ? " " That 's true, sir, but sly coons like the Flint can retire into the brush when they don't want to be overhauled. That wasn't the way of it, however. With such a splendid animal as your poor horse, Cap- tain, an' ridden to death as it was — an' as I 'spected it would be — I knowed I had no chance o' comin' up wi' the Flint, so I took advantage o' my knowledge HBMSf!! kG can lo be lever. |Cap- icted |u' tip Icdse OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 257 o' the lay o' the land, an' pushed ahead by a straighter line — finishin' the last bit on futt over the ridge of a hill. That sent me well ahead o' the Flint, an' so I got here before him. Havin' ways of eaves- droppin' that other people don't know on, I peeped into the cave here and saw and heard how matters stood. Then I thought ) harkin' back on my tracks an' stoppin' the Flixit wi' a bullet, but I reflected 'what good '11 that do? The shot would wake up the outlaws an' putt them on the scent all the same.' Then I tried to listen what their talk was about, so as I might be up to their dodges ; but I hadn't bin listenin' long when in tramps the Flint an' sounds the alarm. Of course I might have sent him an' p'r'aps one o' the others to their long home from where I stood ; but I 've always had an objection to shoot a man behind his back. It has such a sneakin' sort o' feel about it! An' then, the others — I couldn't see how many there was — would have swarmed out on me, an' I 'd have had to make tracks for the scrub, an' larn nothin' more. So I fixed to keep quiet an' hear and see all that I could — p'r'aps find out where they fixed to pull out to. But I heard nothin' more worth tellin'. They only made some hurried, an' by no means kindly, observa- tions about poor Buck an' Leather an' went off over the hills. I went into the woods a bit myself arter that, just to be well out o' the way, so to speak, an' when I got back liere Leather was gone ! " 'r'.,.C -t^Jiiiiiia 258 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE " And you didn't see the man that carried him off?" " No, I didn't see him." ■'You'd have shot liim, of course, if you had seen hhn?" " No, indeed, captain, I wouldn't." " No ! why not ? " asked tlie captain with a pecu- liar smile. " Well, because," answered the scout, with a look of great solemnity, " I wouldn't shoot ,'uch a man on any account — no matter what he was doin' !" "Indeed !" returned the other with a broad aning smile. *' I had no idea you were superstitious, ijen. I thought you feared neither man nor devil.'' "What I fear an' what I don't fear," returned the scout with quiet dignity, "is a matter which has never given me mi.ch consarn." "Well, don't be hurt, Hunky Ben, I don't for one moment question your courage, only I fancied that if you saw any one rescuing an outlaw you would have tried to put a bullet into him whether he hap- pened to be a man or a ghost." " But I have told you," broke in Buck Tom with something of his old fire, " that Leather is not an outlaw." " I have only your word for that, and you know what that is worth," returned the captain. "I don't want to be hard or. one apparently so near his end, and to say truth, I 'm inclined to believe you, but we know that this man Leather has been for a long 11 ■ OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES, 259 'AW )n rf time in your company — whether a member of your band or not must be settled before another tribunal. If caught, he stands a good chance of being hanged. And now," added the captain, turning to a sergeant who had entered the cave with him, " tell the men to put up their horses as best they may. We camp here for the night. Wc can do nothing while it is dark, but with the first gleam of day we will make a tliorougli search of the neighbourhood." While the troopers and their commander were busy making themselves as comfortable as possible in and around the cave, the scout went quietly up to the clump of wood where Leather was in hiding, and related to that unfortunate all that had taken place since he left him. "It is very good of you, Hunky, to take so much interest in me and incur so much risk and trouble ; but do you know," said Leather, with a look of surprise, not unrningled with amus. '.aent, " you are a puzzle to me, for I can't understan ' how you could tell Captain Wilmot such a heap o' lies — you that has got the name of bein* the truest- hearted SCO; : on the frontier ! " " You puzzle me more than I puzzle you, Leather," returned the scout, with a simple look. " What lies have itold?" *' Why, all yuu said about what you saw and heard when you said you were cavesdroppin* must have been nons nise, you know, lor how could you m i 260 CIIARLIK TO THE RKSCUE : A TALE hear and see what took place in the cave through tons of rock and earth ? " " How I saw and heard, my son Leather, is a pri- vate affair of my own, but it was no lie. Leather looked incredulous. " Then you said," ho continued, " that you didn't see the man that carried me away." " No more I did, boy. I never saw him ! " " What ! not even in a looking-glass ? " "Not even in a lookin'-glass," returned Hunky. " I 've seed his rejledion there many a time, — an' a pretty good-lookin' reflection it was — but I 've never see'd himself — that I knows on ! No, Leatlier, if Captain Wilniot had axed me if I saw you carried off, I might ha' been putt in a fix, but he didn't ax me that. He axed if I 'd seen the man that carried you off an' I told the truth when I said I had not. More- over I wasn't bound to show him that he wasn't fit to be a lawyer — specially when he was arter an inno- cent man, an' might p'r'aps hang him without a trial. It was my duty to guide the captain in pur- suit of outlaws, an' it is my duty to shield an inno- cent man. Between the two perplexin' duties I tried to steer as straight a course as I could, but I confess I had to steer pretty close to the wind." " Well, Hunky, it is my duty to thank you instead of criticising you as I have done, but how do you come to be so sure that I 'm innocent ? " "P'r'aps because ye putt such an innocent I T OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 261 question," replied Ben, with a little smile. " D' ye rally think, Leather, that an old scout like me is goin' to let you see through all the outs and ins by which I comes at my larnin' ! It 's enough for you to know, boy, that I know a good deal more about you than ye think — more p'r'aps than ye know about yerself. I don't go for to say that you 're a born angel, wantin' nothin' but a pair o' wings to carry ye off to the better land — by no means, but I do know that as regards jinin' Buck Tom's boys, or takin' a willin' part in their devilish work, ye are innocent, an' that 's enough for me." "I'm glad you know it and believe it, Ben," said Leather, earnestly, " for it is true. I followed Buck, because he 's an old, old chum, and I did it at the risk of my life, an' then, as perhaps you are aware, we were chased and I got injured. So far I am innocent of acting with these men, but Ben, I don't admit my innocence in anything else ! My whole life — well, well — it 's of no use talkin'. Tell me, d' ye think there 's any chance o' Buck getting over this ? " " He may. Nobody can tell. I '11 do my best for him. I never lose hope of a man, after what I 've see'd in my experience, till the breath is fairly out of him." " Thank God for these words, Ben." "Yes," continued the scout, "and your friend Brooke is at this moment sunk in tlie blue dumps { ' ii i; i 2G2 ClIAllLIE TU TllK UKSCUE : A TALIO m L because you liave beeu earned olf by a great mysterious monster ! " " Then he doesn't know it was you ? " exclaimed Leather. " In course not. An' he doesn't know you are within five hundred yards of him. An' what's more, you mustn't let him know it was me, for that nmst be kept a dead secret, else it'll ruin my character on the frontier. We must surround it wi' mystery, my boy, till all is safe. But I didn't come up here to enjoy an evcnin's conversation. You're not safe where you are. Leather. They'll be scourin' all round for you long before sun-up, so I must putt you where you'll be able to look on an' grin at them." " Where will that be ? " asked Leatlier, with some curiosity. " You know the cliff about five hundred feet hioli that rises just over on the other side o' the valley — where the water-shoot comes down ? " "Ay, it's likely I do, for I've seen it every mornin' for months past." " An' you remember the hole near the top o' the <3lifr?" " Yes — that looks about the size of a crow ? " " Whatever it looks like it 's three times the size of a man, an' it 's the mouth of a cave," returned the scout. " Now, I '11 lead you to the track that '11 let you up to that cave. It 's a splendid place, full of OF THE SKA AND THE liOCKIES. 263 all sorts o' holes an' places where a man couldn't find you even if he know'd you was there. Once up, you may sit down, smoke your pipe in the mouth o' the cave, an' enjoy yourself, lookin' on at the hunt arter yourself. Here 's a bit o' chuck I 've brought to keep you from wearyin', for they may keep it up all day. When all danger is past I '11 come up for ye. You needn't show more o' your- self, however, than the top o' your head. A man can never be over-cautious when he 's bein' hunted down. An' mind, don't leave the place till I come for you." Handing a cold roast fowl and a loaf to his companion, the scout got up and led him away to the spot which he had just described. It was by that time quite dark, but as Hunky Ben knew every inch of tlie ground lie glided along almost as quickly as if it had been broad day, followed, with some difficulty, by j)oor Leather, who was still in a state of great prostration, partly because of his injury and partly in consequence of his previous dissipation. As the place, however, was not much more than half-a-mile distant his powers of endurance were not much tried. The scout led him across the narrow valley just above the outlaws' cave, and then, enter- ing a steep rocky defile, he began to ascend a place that was more suitable for goats than men. After half-an-hour of upward toil they reached a plateau where the track — if it may be so styled — seemed t'f mrr 264 CIIAULIE TO TIIK RKSCUE : A TALE to run in a zig-zag manner until it reached a small hole in the solid rock. Through this tlicy entered and found themselves within a cavern and in total darkness. " We may rest a bit now," said the scout. " There 's a ledge hereabouts. There you are. Sit down. I '11 have to take your hand here lest you fall off the bridge into the holes on each side o' the track." " Are the holes dangerous ? " asked Leather. "They're dangerous enough to be worth takin' care of, anyhow, for if ye was to tumble into one you 'd never come out again. There, now, let 's go on, for if I don't git back soon, they '11 be wonderin' if the monster hasn't run away wi' me too, as well as you ! " After advancing a short distance in total dark- ness — Ben feeling his way carefully step by step — they came suddenly to the hole in the front of the cave to which reference has been already made. The place had evidently been used before as a place of refuge and temporary abode, for, near this front- mouth of the cave was found a litter of pine branches which had plainly been used as a bed. " Sit ye down there, Leather," said the scout, " see, or, rather, hear — for the eyes aren't of much use just now — I 've set down the grub an' a flask o' water beside ye. Don't strike a light unless you want to have your neck stretched. Daylight won't be long o' lettin' ye see what 's goin' on. You won't b-lli^lL-^jlj^ . «J"X OF TIIK SKA AND THE UOCKIKS. 265 weary, for it '11 be as good as a play, yourself bein' chief actor an' audience all at the same time ! " Saying this the scout melted, as it were, into the darkness of the cavern, and, with noiseless moc- casined feet, retraced his steps to the rear entrance. Left to himself the poor wanderer found both time and food for reflection, for he did not dare in the darkness to move from the spot where he had seated himself. At first an eerie feeling of inde- finable fear oppressed him, but this passed away as the busy thoughts went rambling back to home and the days of comparative innocence gone by. Forgetting the dark surroundings and the threaten- ing dangers, he was playing again on the river banks, drinking liquorice-water, swimming, and rescuing kittens with Charlie Brooke. Anon, he was wandering on the sea-beach with his sister, brown-eyed Mary, or watching the manly form of his old friend and chum buffeting the waves to- wards the wreck on the Sealford Eocks. Memory may not be always faithful, but she is often sur- prisingly prompt. In the twinkling of an eye Shank Leather had crossed the Atlantic again and was once more in the drinking and gambling saloons — the " Hells " of New York — with his profoundly admired "friend" and tempter Ealph Eitson. It was a wild whirl and plunge from bad to worse through which Memory led him now — scenes at which he shuddered and on which he would fain \[ l Ml 1^1 ' fi- JtWUf U'it rt r^' IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. 'V 5? fe &?/ tA -& 1.0 I 12.5 1=^ • IP^ 2.2 - IM , ;r iiie 2.0 .1 ; — 18 1.25 1.4 1.6 1 = — ^

* . «;• <^ ^ <\ % '1? ,^" 23 WEST MAIN STREET WeBSTER.N Y 14580 (716) 872-4503 Wr r^\ h - • i t [-1 >: !■ i . 266 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE \m I^^^^^Bi ■ S^^B • r 1 ^ have closed his eyes if possible, but Memory knows not the meaning of mercy. She tore open his eyes and, becoming unusually strict at this point, bade him look particularlj'' at all the minute details of his reckless life — especially at the wrecks of other lives that had been caused by the wreck of liis own. Then the deepest deep of all seemed to be reached when he rose — or rather fell — from the condition of tempted to that of tempter, and, some- how, managed for a time to lead even the far stronger-minded Ealph Ritson on the road to ruin. But he did not lead him long. The stronger nature soon re-asserted itself ; seized the reins ; led the yielding Leather to the cities of the far west; from gambling took to robbing, till at last the gay and handsome Eitson became transformed into the notorious Buck Tom, and left his weaker chum to care for himself. It was at this point — so Memory recalled to him — that he. Leather, was stopped, in mid and mad, career, by a man of God with the love of Jesus in his heart and on his lips. And at this point Memory seemed to change her action and proved herself, although unmerciful, pre-eminently faithful. She reminded him of the deep contrition that God wrought in his heart; of the horror that over whelmed him when he thought of what he was, and what he had done; of the sudden resolve he had formed to follow Eitson, and try to stop him in the UlS OF THK SKA AND THE ROCKIKS. 267 fearful career on which he had entered Then came the memory of failure ; of desperate anxieties ; of futile entreaties ; of unaccountably resolute per- severance ; of joining the outlaw band to be near his friend ; of being laughed to scorn by them all ; of being chased by U.S. troops at the very com- mencement of his enterprise; of being severely wounded, rescued, and carried off during the flight by Buck Tom, and then — a long blank, mingled with awful dreams and scenes, and ribald songs, and curses — some of all which was real, and some the working of a fevered brain. So terribly vivid were these pictures of memory, that one of the shouts of dreamland absolutely awoke him to the fact that he had extended his wearied limbs on his couch of pine brush and fallen asleep. He also awoke to the perception that it was broad daylight, and that a real shout had min- gled with that of dreamland, for after he had sat up and listened intently for a few moments, the shout was repeated as if at no great distance. *: f] 1 iiii , it: 268 ciiaklif; to the uescue: a tale CHAPTER XXIII. THE TROOPS OUTWITTED BY THE SCOUT AND HIS FRIENDS. |W! I C;: k:. Creeping quickly to the mouth of the cave Leather peeped cautiously out, and the scene that met his startled gaze was not calculated to restore that equanimity which his recent dreams had dis- turbed. The narrow and rugged valley which lay spread out below him was alive with horsemen, trotting hither and thither as if searching for some one, and several parties on foot were scaling gorges and slopes, up which a horseman could not scramble. The shout which had awakened the fugitive was uttered by a dismounted trooper who had climbed higher on the face of the cliff than his fellows, and wished to attract the attention of those below. " Hi ! hallo ! " he cried, " send Hunky Ben up here. "I've found a track that seems to lead to somewhere, but it '11 need the scout's nose to ferret it out." Leather's heart beat wildly, for, from the position of the man, he could not doubt that he had dis- OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 269 covered the track leading up to the cave. Before he could think how he should act, a response came to the call from Hunky Ben. " Ay, ay," he shouted, in a voice so bold and re- sonant, that Leather felt it was meant to warn him of his danger, " Ay, ay. Hold on 1 Don't be in a hurry. The tracks branch out further on, an' some o' them are dangerous. Wait till I come up. There 's a cave up there, I '11 lead ye to it." This was more than enough for Leather. He turned hastily to survey his place of refuge. It was a huge dismal cavern with branching tunnels around that disappeared in thick obscurity, and heights above tliat lost themselves in gloom; holes in the sides and floor that were of invisible depth, and curious irregular ledges, that formed a sort of arabesque fringe to the general confusion. One of these ornamental ledges, stretching along the roof with many others, lost itself in the gloom and seemed to be a hopeful living-place — all the more hopeful that it was in the full blaze of light that gushed in through the front opening of the cave. This opening, it will be remembered, was on the face of the cliff and inaccessible. But Leather found that he could not reach the ledge. Hastening to the dark side of the cave, however, he saw that by means of some projections and crevices in the rocky wall he could reach the end of the ledge. Creeping along it he soon found himself close to ill. I ii m ' m 11 ■Hit: pi l.'i- 5^70 CHARLIE TO THE llESCUE : A TALE M the opt-^ning, surrounded by strong light, but effec- tually concealed from view by the ledge. It was as if he were on a natural rafter, peeping down on the floor below ! As there was a multitude of such ledges around, which it would take several men many hours to examine, he began to breathe more freely, for, would the searchers not naturally think that a fugitive would fly to the darkest recesses of his place of refuge, rather than to the brightest and most accessible spot ? He gave vent to a sigh of relief, and was congra- tulating himself upon his wisdom, when his eyes chanced to fall on the flask of water and cold roast fowl and loaf lying conspicuous in the full glare of light that flooded the front part of the cave ! If the fowl had been thrust whole into his throat it could scarcely have added to the gush of alarm that choked him. He slipped incontinently from his arabesque ledge and dropped upon the floor. Securing the lell-tale viands with eager haste he dashed back into the obscurity and clambered with them back to his perch. And not much too soon, for he had barely settled down when the voice of the scout was heard talking pretty loudly. " Come along, Captain Wilmot," he said, " give me your hand, sir. It 's not safe to walk alone here, even wi' a light." " Here, where are you ? Oh ! All right. Haven't you got a match ? " asked the captain. feti Lve ire, m't OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 271 " Nothin' tliat would burn more 'n a few seconds. We're better without a light, for a gust o' wind might blow it out an' leave us worse than we was. Mind this step. Tliere." " Well, I 'm glad I didn't bring any of my men in here," said the Captain, as he kicked one of his heavy boots violently against a projection of rock. " Ay — 'tis as well you didn't," returned the scout, in a tone suggestive of the idea that he was smiling. "For there's holes on both sides, an' if one o' your men went down, ye might read the funeral sarvice over him at once, an' be done with it. There 's a glimmer o' daylight at last. We '11 soon be at the other end now." " A horrible place, truly," said the Captain, " and one that it would be hard to find a fellow in even if we knew he was here." " Didn't I say so, Captain ? but ye wouldn't be convinced," said Hunky Ben, leading his companion into the full light of the opening and coming to a halt close to the ledge above which the fugitive lay. " iJesides, Leather could never have found his way here alone." "You forget," returned Wilmot, with a peculiar smile, " the monster might have shown him the way or even have carried him hither." "Ah, true," answered the scout, with solemn gravity. " There 's somethin' in that." . Wilmot laughed. w. m m s 1 1 i 1 ' ;■■ ■ 'U 272 CIIAltUK TO THE RESCUE : A TALE m " What a splendid view," he said, going forward to the opening — "and see, here is a bed of pine brush. No doubt the cave must have been used as a place of refuge by the Redskins in days gone by." "Ay, an' by the pale-faces too," said the scout. " Why, I 've had occasion to use it myself more than once. And, as you truly obsarve, sir, there 's small chance of findin' a man once he 's in here. As well run after a rabbit in his hole." " Or search for a needle in a haystack," observed the Captain, as he gazed with curious interest around and above him. "Well, Ben, I give in. You were right w!ien you said there was no proba- bility of my finding any of the outlaws here." " I 'm gineraily right when I speak about what I understand," returned the scout calmly. " So now, Captain, if you 're satisried, we may as well go an' have a look at the other places I spoke of." Assenting to this the two men left the place, but Leather continued to lie perfectly still for a considerable time after their footsteps had died away. Then, gliding from his perch, he dropped on thb floor and ran to the opening where he saw the troopers still riding about, but gradually going farther and farther away from him. The scene was not perhaps, as the scout had prophesied, quite " as good as a play," but it certainly did become more and more entertaining as the searchers receded and distance lent enchantment to the view. an , but lor a died d on ' the roing was ••as Imore and "AND HAN TO TUK Ol'KNING, WilKllI': UK SAW TliK TRoOPKKS STir.L HIDING ABOUT.'— Page 272. m i 1 I iitp : i. t " Well, away I went — makin' sail down the valley to begin with, an' then a long tack into the moun- tains right in the wind's eye, that bein' the way to get on the blind side o' game. I hadn't gone far when up starts a bird o' some sort " " What like was it ? " asked the scout. "No more notion than the man in the moon," returned the sailor. "What wi' the flutter an' scurry an' leaves, branches an' feathers — an' the start — I see'd nothin' clear, an' I was so anxious to git somethin' for the pot, that six shots went arter it out o' the Winchester, before I was quite sure I 'd begun to fire — for you must know I 've larned to fire uncommon fast since I come to these parts. Hows'ever, I hit nothin' " " Not quite so bad as that, Dick," interrupted the scout gravely. " Well, that 's true, but you better tell that part of it yourself, Hunky, as you know more about it than me." " It wasn't of much consequence," said the scout, betraying the slightest possible twinkle in his grey eyes, " but Dick has a knack o' lettin' drive without much regard to what 's in front of him. I happened to be more in front of him than that bird when he begnn to fire, an' the first shot hit my right leggiu', but by good luck only grazed the bark. Of course I dropped behind a rock when the storm began and lay quiet there, and when a lull came I halloo'd." OF THE SEA AND THE KOCKIES. 283 med lie iui', ' "Yes, he did halloo," said Dick, resuming the narrative, " an' that halloo was more like the yell of a bull of Bashan than the cry of a mortal man. It made my heart jump into my throat an' stick there, for I thought I must have killed a whole Redskin tribe at one shot " " Six shots, Dick. Tell the exact truth an' don't contradic' yourself," said Hunky. " No, it wasn't," retorted the seaman stoutly. " It was arter the first shot that you gave the yell. Hows'ever, I allow that the echoes kep' it goin' till the six shots was off — an' I can tell you, messmates, that the hallooin' an' flutterin' an' scurryin' an' echoin' an' thought of Redskins in my brain all mixed up wi' the blatterin' shots, caused such a rumpus that I experienced considerable relief when the smoke cleared away an' I see'd Hunky Ben in front o' me laughin' fit to bu'st his sides." "Well, to make a long yarn short, I joined Hunky and allowed him to lead, seein' tljat he un- derstands the navigation hereaway better than me." " * Come along,' says he, * an' I '11 let you have a chance at a deer.' "'All right,' says I, an' away we went up one hill an' down another — for all the world as if we was walkin' over a heavy Atlantic swell — till we come to a sort o' pass among the rocks. " ' I 'm goin' to leave you here to watch,' says he, * an' I '11 go round by the f utt o' the gully an' drive i ^' .Mw m ]t.! 'i '. ' - t|.,_. 'f?; m - ■i ilil r III ^ ' , ■ ■ ■ >)' . Mtt' -.' HBi^^H|l' 1 11 i- ^^■1 ill If' 284 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE the deer up. They'll pass quite close, so you've only to ' "Hunky stopped short as he was speakin' and flopped down as if he 'd bin shot — haulin' me along wi' him. " ' Keep quiet,' says he, in a low voice. * We 're in luck, an* don't need to drive. There's a deer comin' up at this very minute — a young one. You '11 take it. I won't fire unless you miss.* " You may be sure I kep' quiet, messmates, arter that. I took just one peep, an* there, sure enough, I saw a brown beast comin' up the pass. So we kep' close as mice. There was a lot o' small bushes not ten yards in front of us, which ended in a cut — a sort 0* crack — in the hill-side, a hundred yards or more from the place where we was crouchin'. " * Now,' whispers Hunky to " " I never whisper ! " remarked the scout. " Well, well ; he said, in a low v'ice to me, says he, ' d' ye see that openin' in the bushes ? ' * I do,* says I. * Well then,' says he, * it 's about ten yards off ; be ready to commence firin' when it comes to that openin*.' *I will,' says I. An', sure enough, when the brown critter came for'id at a walk an' stopped sudden wi' a look o' surprise as if it hadn't expected to see me, bang went my Winchester four times, like winkin', an' up went the deer four times in the air, but niver a bit the worse was he. Snap I went a fifth time ; but there was no shot, an' I OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 285 Is to es gave a yell, for I knew the cartridges was done. By that time the critter had reached the crack in the hill I told ye of, an' up in the air he went to clear it, like an Indy-rubber ball. I felt a'most like to fling my rifle at it in my rage, when bang ! went a shot at my ear that all but deaf ned me, an' I wish I may niver fire another shot or furl another t'gallant-s'l if that deer didn't crumple up in the air an' drop down stone dead — as dead as it now lays there on the floor." By the time Dick Darvall had ended his narrative — which was much more extensive than our report of it — steaks of the deer were sputtering in a fry- ing-pan, and other preparations were being made for a hearty meal, to which all the healthy men did ample justice. Shank Leather did what he could, and even Buck Tom made a feeble attempt to join. That night a strict watch was kept outside the cave — each taking it by turns, for n, was just possible, though not probable, that the outlaws might return to their old haunt. No one appeared, however, and for the succeeding eight weeks the party remained there undisturbed. Shank Leather slowly but surely regaining strength ; his friend. Buck Tom, as slowly and surely losing it; while Charlie, Dick, and Hunky Ben ranged the neighbour- ing forest in order to procure food. Leather usually remained in the cave to cook for and nurse his liii Hi' ■ :.■■' 'I V. 1 f 28G CHARLIE TO TIIK RESCUE: A TALE friend. It was pleasant work to Shank, for love and pity were at the foundation of the service. Buck Tom perceived this and fully appreciated it. Perchance he obtained some valuable light on spiritual subjects from Shank's changed tone and manner, which the logic of his friend Brooke had failed to convey. Who can tell ? I . OF THE SKA AND THE UOCKIES. 287 CHAPTER XXV. snows UOW THE SKAMAN WAS SENT ON A DKLICATE MISSION AND HOW HE FARED. ting " SiiANK," said Charlie one day as they were sit- in the sunshine near the outlaws' cave, waiting for Dick and the scout to return to their mid-day meal, "it seems to me that we may be detained a good while here, for we cannot leave lialph, and it is evident that the poor fellow won't be able to travel for many a day " " If ever," interposed Shank sorrowfully. "Well, then, I think we must send down to Bull's Eanch, to see if there are any letters for us. I feel sure that there must be some, and the question arises — who are we to send ? " " You must not go, Charlie, whoever goes. You are the only link in this mighty wilderness, that connects Ealph and me with home — and hope. Weak and helpless as we are, we cannot afford to let you out of our sight." "Well, but if I don't go I can't see my way to asking the scout to go, for he alone thoroughly understands the ways of the country and of the I t ' if _ 1 < .- ! I 288 CIIAULIK TO THE RESCUE : A TALE Indians — if any should chance to come this way. Besides, considering the pledge he is under to be accountable for Buck Tom, I doubt if he would consent to go." "The question is answered, then," said Shank, " for the only other man is Dick Darvall." " True ; and it strikes me that Dick will be very glad to go," returned Charlie with a smile of pecu- liar meaning. " D' ye think he 's getting tired of us, Charlie ? " " By no means. But you know he has a roving disposition, and I think he has a sort of fondness for Jackson — the boss of the ranch." It was found when the question was put to him, that Dick was quite ready to set out on the mission required of him. He also admitted his fondness for Roaring Bull ! " But what if you should lose your way ? " asked the scout. " Find it again," was Dick's prompt reply. " And what if you should be attacked by Indians?" " Fight 'em, of course." " But if they should be too many to "ight ? " " Why, clap on all sail an' give 'em i starn chase, which is always a long one. For this purpose, how- ever, I would have to command a good craft, so I 'd expect you to lend me yours, Hunky Ben." "What! my Polly?" "Even so. Black Polly." lase, to\v- il'd OF TIIK SEA AND THE UOCKIES. 289 The scout received this proposal gravely, and shook his head at first, for he was naturally fond of his beautiful mare, and, besides, doubted the sailor's horseniansliip, though he had perfect faith in his courage and discretion. Finally, however, he gave in; and accordingly, one tine morning at day- break, Dick Darvall, mounted on Black Polly, and armed with his favourite "Winchester, revolvers, and cutlass, " set sail " down Traitor's Trap to visit his lady-love ! Of course he knew that his business was to obtain letters and gather news. But honest Dick Darvall could not conceal from himself that his main object was — Mary Jackson ! Somehow it has come to be supposed or assumed that a jack- tar cannot ride. Possibly this may be true of the class as a whole to which Jack belongs, but it is not necessarily true of all, and it certainly is not true of some. Dick Darvall was an expert horseman — though a sailor. He had learned to ride when a boy, before going to sea, and his after- habit of riding the " white horses " of the Norseman, did not cause him to forget the art of managing the " buckers " of the American plains. To use his own words, he felt as much at home on the hurricane deck of a Spanish pony, as on the fo'c'sl of a man- of-war, so that the scout's doubt of his capacity as a rider was not well founded. Tremendous was the bound of exultation which T } I'.ii'i i 290 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE fi.)' our seaman felt, then, when he found himself on the magnificent black mare, with the fresh morning air fanning his temples, and the bright sun frlintinff through a cut in the morning eastern range. Soon he reached the lower end of the valley, ■wlil'jh being steep he had descended with tightened rein. Or reaching the open prairie he gave the mare her head and went off with a wild whoop like an arrow from a bow. Black Polly required neither spur nor whip. She possessed that charmingly sensitive spirit which seems to receive an electric shock from its rider's lightest chirp. She was what you may call an anxi- ously willing steed, yet possessed such a tender mouth that she could be pulled up as easily as she could be made to go. A mere child could have ridden her, and Dick found in a few minutes that a slight check was necessary to prevent her scour- ing over the plains at racing speed. He restrained her, therefore, to a grand canter, with many a stride and bound interspersed, when such a thing as a rut or a little bush came in her way. With arched iieck^ glistening eyes, voluminous mane, and flowing tail she flew onward, hour after hour, with many a playful shake of the head, and an occasional snort, as though to say " This is mere child's play ; do let me put on a spurt ! " It may not be fair to credit such a noble creature OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 291 iuous after and I mere laturc with talking, or ev(;n thinking, slang, but Dick Darvall clearly uuder?itood her to say something of the sort, for after a while he reduced speed to a kind of india-rubber walk and patted her neck, saying— " No, no, lass, you mustn't use up your strength at the beginning. We've got a longish trip before us, Polly, an' it won't do to clap on all sail at the beginnin' of the voyage." At David's store Dick stopped for a short time to obtain a little refreshment for himself and Polly. There he found a group of cow-boys discussing the affairs of their neighbours, and enlarging noisily on things in general under the brain-clearing and reason-inspiring influence of strong drink ! To these he recounted briefly the incidents of the recent raid of the troops into Traitor's Trap, and learned tliat Jake the Flint had "drifted south into Mexico where he was plying the trade of cattle and horse stealer, with the usual accompaniments of that pro- fession — fighting, murdering, drinking, etc." Some of the deeds of this notorious outlaw, as narrated by the cow-boy Crux, who happened to be there, made the blood of Dick run cold — and Dick's blood was not easily made to run otherwise than naturally by any one — except, of course, by Mary Jackson, who could at all events make it run hot, also fast or slow, very much according to her own sweet will ! But the seaman had no time to lose. He had I II i \ M-» 292 CHARLIE TO THE RESCJE : A TALE if i." i m! ■ pil still a long way to go, and the day was advancing. Eemounting Black Polly he was soon out again on the prairie, sweeping over the grassy waves and down into the hollows with a feeling of hilarious jollity, that was born of high health, good-nature, pleasant circumstances, and a free-and-easy mind. Nothing worthy of particular notice occurred after this to mar the pleasure of our sailor's "voyage" over the prairie until he reached a belt of woodland, through which for half a mile he had to travel. Here he drew rein and began to traverse the bit of forest at a quiet amble, partly to rest Polly, and partly that he might more thoroughly enjoy the woodland scenery through the umbrageous canopy of which the sun was sending his slanting rays and covering the sward with a confused chequer-work of green and gold. And here Dick Darvall became communicative ; entered into conversation, so to speak, with himself. After a few minutes, however, this did not prove a sufficient outlet to his exuberant spirits. " Come, Dick," he exclaimed, " give us a song. Your voice ain't, perhaps, much to speak of as to quality, but there 's no end of quantity. Strike up, now ; what shall it be ? " Without replying to the question he struck up "Eule Britannia" in tones that did not justify his disparaging remark as to quality. He reached the other end of the wood and the end of the sonrr at to up, up Ids the p- at OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 293 I the same time. " Britons," shouted he with un- alterable determination — " Never, never, ne — ver, shall be — Eedskins ! " This unnatural termination was not an intentional variation. It was the result of a scene that sud- denly burst upon his view. Far away on the prairie two riders were seen racing at what he would have styled a slant away from him. They were going at a pace that suggested fleeing for life. "Eedskins — arter somethin'," murmured Dick, pull- ing up, and shading his eyes from the sun with his right hand, as he gazed earnestly at the two riders. "No — n — no. They're whites," he continued, " one o' them a man ; t'other a woman. I can make that out, anyhow." As he spoke, the racing riders topped a far-off knoll ; halted, and turned round as if to gaze back towards the north— the direction from which they had come. Then, wheeling round as if in greater haste than ever, they continued their headlong gaHop and disappeared on the other side of the knoll. Dick naturally turned towards the north to see, if possible, what the two riders were flying from. He was not kept long in doubt, for just then a band of horsemen was seen topping the farthest ridge in that direction, and bearing down on the belt of woodland, along the edge of which they galloped towards him. I 294 CHAKLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE There was no mistaking who they were. The war-whoop, sounding faint and shrill in the dis- tance, and the wild gesticulations of the riders, told the story at once to our seaman — two pale-faces, pursued by a band of bloodthirsty savages ! Unskilled though he was in backwoods warfare, Dick was not unfamiliar with war's alarms, nor was he wanting in common sense. To side with the weaker par*-' was a natural tendency in our sea- man. That the pursuers were red, and the pursued white, strengthened the tendency, and the fact that one of the latter was a woman settled the question. Instantly Dick shook the reins, drove his unarmed heels against the sides of Polly, and away they went after the fugitives like a black thunderbolt, if there be such artillery in nature ! A wild yell told him that he was seen. "Howl away, ye land lubbers!" growled Dick. " You '11 have to fill your sails wi' a stiffer breeze than howlin' before ye overhaul this here craft." Just then he reached the crest of a prairie billow, whence he could see the fugitives still far ahead of him. Suddenly a suspicion entered the seaman's mind, which made his heart almost choke him. What if this should be Mary Jackson and her father ? Their relative size countenanced the id Da, for the womon seemed small and the man unusually large. In desperate haste Dick now urged on his gallant mm OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 295 steed to her best pace, and well did she justify the praises that had been often bestowed on her by liunky Ben. In a very brief space of time she was close behind the fugitives, and Dick was now convinced that his suspicions as to who they were was right. He rode after them with divided feel- ings — tremblingly anxious lest Mary should fall into the hands of their ruthless foes — exultantly glad that he had come there in time to fight, or die if need be, in her defence. Suddenly the male fugitive, who had only glanced over his shoulder from time to time, pulled up, wheeled round, and quickly raised his rifle. " Hallo ! get on, man ; don't stop !" Dick yelled, in a voice worthy of Bull himself. Taking off his hat he waved it violently above his head. As he spoke he saw the woman's arm flash upwards; a puff of smoke followed, and a bullet whistled close over his head. Next moment the fugitives had turned and re- sumed their headlong flight, A few more minutes sufficed to bring Dick and the black mare alongside, for the latter was still vigorous in wind and limb, while the poor jaded animals which Mary and her father rode were almost worn out by a prolonged flight. " Dick Darvall," exclaimed Jackson, as the former rode up, " I never was gladder to see any man than I am to see you this hour, though but for my Mary ! Ill ^:ii i\H 296 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE i: \\\i I 'd surely have sent you to kingdom come. Her ears are better than mine, you see. She recognised the voice an' knocked up my rifle just as I pulled the trigger. But I 'm afeared it 's too late, lad." The way in which the man said this, and the look of his pale haggard face, sent a thrill to the heart of Dick. " What d'ye mean ? " he said, looking anxiously at Mary, who with a set rigid expression on her pale face was looking straight before her, and urging her tired pony with switch and rein. " I mean, lad, that we 've but a poor chance to reach the ranch wi' such knocked-up brutes as these. Of course we can turn at bay an' kill as many o' the red-devils as possible before it 's all over wi' us, but what good would that do to Mary ? If we could only check the varmins, there might be some hope, but " " Jackson ! " exclaimed the seaman, in a firm tone, " I '11 do my best to check them. God bless you, Mary — good-bye. Heave ahead, now, full swing ! " As he spoke, Dick pulled up, while the others con- tinued their headlong flight straight for the ranch, which was by that time only a few miles distant. Wheeling round, Dick cantered back to the knoll over which they had just passed and halted on the top of it. From this position he could see the band, of about fifty Indians, careering towards him and yelling with satisfaction, for they could also see and see OF THE SKA AND THE ROCKIKS. 20' him — a solitary horseman — clear cut against the bright skv. Dick got ready his repeating rifle. "We have already mentioned the fact that he had learned to load and fire this formidable weapon with great rapidity, though he had signally failed in his attempts to aim with it. Being well aware of his weakness, he made up his mind in liis present desperate ex- tremity not to aim at all ! He had always felt that the difficulty of getting the back and front sights of the rifle to correspond with the object aimed at was a slow, and, in his case, an impossible process. He therefore resolved to simply point his weapon and fire ! "Surely," he muttered to himself, even in that trying moment, " surely I can't altogether miss a whole bunch o' fifty men an' horses ! " He waited until he tliought the savages were within long range, and then, elevating his piece a little, fired. The result justified his hopes. A horse fell dead upon the plain, and its owner, although evidently unwounded, was for the time liors de combat. True to his plan, Dick kept up such a quick con- tinuous fire, and made so much noise and smoke, that it seemed as if a whole company of riflemen were at work instead of one man, and several horses on the plain testified to the success of the pointing as compared with the aiming principle ! ;'!! m W 1 1 i ! I 'il 298 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE: A TALE Of course the fire was partly returned, and for a time the stout seaman was under a pretty heavy rain of bullets, but as the savages fired while gallop- ing their aim was necessarily bad. This fusillade had naturally the effect of checking the advance of the Indians — especially when they drew near to the reckless man, who, when the snap of his rifle told that his last cartridge was off, wheeled about and fled as fast as Black Polly could lay hoofs to the plain. And now he found the value of the trustworthy qualities of his steed, for, instead of guiding her out of the way of obstacles, he gave her her head, held tight with his legs, and merely kept an eye on the ground in front to be ready for any swerve, bound, or leap, that might be impending. Thus his hands were set free to re-charge the magazine of his rifle, which he did with deliberate rapidity. The truth is, that recklessness has a distinct tendency to produce coolness. And there is no one who can afford to be so deliberate, and of whom other men are so much afraid, as the man who has obviously made up his mind to die fighting. While Dick was loading-up. Black Polly was encouraged by voice and heel to do her best, and her best was something to see and remember! "When the charging was finished, Dick drew rein and trotted to the next knoll he encountered, from which point he observed with some satisfaction OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 299 ras md fer 1 rein lorn lion that the fugitives were still pressing ou, and that the distance between them and their foe had slightly increased. But the seaman had not much time to look or think, for the band of Eedskins was drawing near. When they came within range he again opened fire. But this time the savages divided, evidently with the intention of getting on both sides of him, and so distracting his attention. He perceived their object at once, and reserved his fire until they turned {ind with frantic yells made a simultaneous dash on him right and left. Again he waited till his enemies were close enough, and then opened fire right and left alternately, while the Indians found that they had outwitted themselves and scarcely dared to fire lest the opposite bands should hit each other. Ha,ving expended the second supply of ammuni- tion, Dick wheeled round and took to flight as before. Of course the mare soon carried him out of range, and again he had the satisfaction of observing that the fugitives had increased their distance from the foe. "One more check o' this kind," thought Dick, "and they'll be safe— I think." While thus thinking he was diligently re-charg- ing, and soon cantered to the top of a third knoll, where he resolved to make his final stand. The ranch was by that time dimly visible on the horizon, 300 CHAKLIR TO THE RESCUE : A TALE 1^ J f! and the weary fugitives were seen struggling to- wards it. But Dick found, on halting and looking back, that the Indians had changed their tactics. Instead of directing their attention to himself, as on the previous occasions, they had spread out to the right and left and had scattered, besides keep- ing well out of range. '' What are the sinners up to now ? " muttered the seaman in some perplexity. He soon perceived that they meant to go past him altogether, if possible, and head towards the fugitives in separate groups. " Ay, but it 's not possible ! " exclaimed Dick, answering his own thoughts as he turned swiftly, and stretched out after his friends. Seeing this, the savages tried to close in on him from both sides, but their already winded ponies had no chance against the grand Mexican mare, which having been con- siderately handled during the day's journey was comparatively fresh and in full vigour. Shooting ahead he now resolved to join his friends, and a feeling of triumph began to rise within his breast as he saw them pushing steadily onward. The ranch, however, was still at a considerable distance, while the Indians were rapidly gaining ground. At that moment, to Dick's horror, the pony which Mary Jackson rode stumbled and fell, sending its rider over its head. But the fair Mary, besides OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 301 Ui icli I its les being a splendid horsewoman, was singularly agile and quick in perception. For some time she had anticipated the catastrophe, and, at the first indi- cation of a stumble, leaped from the saddle and actu- ally alighted on her feet some yards ahead. Of course she fell with some violence, but the leap broke her fall, and probably saved her neck. She sprang up instantly, and grasping the reins, tried to raise her pony. It was too late. The faithful creature was dead. Jackson, pulling up, wheeled round and was back at her side instantly. Almost at the same moment Dick Darvall came up, threw the mare almost on her haunches, leaped from the saddle, and ran to Mary. As he did so, the crash of a pistol sliot at his ear almost deafened him, and a glance showed him that Jackson had shot his horse, which fell dead close to his daughter's pony. " Kill your horse, Dick," he growled sharply, as he exerted his great strength to the utmost, and dragged the haunches of his own steed close to the head of the other. " It 's our only chance." Dick drew his revolver, and aimed at the heart of Black Polly, but for the soul of him he could not pull the trigger. " No — I won't ! " he cried, grasping the lasso which always hung at the saddle-bow. " Hobble the fore- legs ! " There was such determination in the sailor's com- m .>! i 302 CHARLIE TO THE KRSCUE : A TALE I i\i^ h^ inand, that Jackson felt bound to obey. At tlio same moment Dick bound the horse's hind-legs. He fully understood what Jackson intended, and the latter was as quick to perceive the seaman's drift. Seizing the reins, while his friend cauj^lit hold of the lasso, Dick cried, " Out o' the way, Mary ! " and with a mighty effort the two men threw tlie mare on her side. "First-rate ! " cried Jackson, while his companion held down the animal's head. "It couldn't have dropped better. Jump inside, Mary, an' lie down flat behind your pony. Let Mary have the reins, Dick. She knows how to hold its head down with- out showin' herself." Even while he was speaking, Jackson and Dick leaped into the triangle of horses thus formed, and, crouching low, disappeared from the sight of the savages, who now came on yelling with triumph, for they evidently thought themselves sure of their victims by that time, " Are ye a good shot, Dick 1 " asked Jackson, as he gazed sternly at the approaching foe. " No — abominably bad." " Fire low then. You may catch the horses if ye miss the Redskins. Anyhow you '11 hit the ground if you aim low, an' it's wonderful what execution a bullet may do arter liittin' mother Earth." " I never aim," replied the sailor. " Only a waste o' time. I just point straight an' fire away." OF THE SEA AND TIIK UOCKIES. 303 as I ye lid h a ste " Do it, then," growled Roaring Bull, with some- thing that sounded like a short laugh. At the same momeuo he himself took quick aim at the foe and iired ; the leading horse and man im- mediately rolled upon the plain. As both men were armed with repeating ritles the fusillade was rapid, and most of the savages, who seldom fight well in the open, were repulsed. But several of them, headed apparently by their chief, rode on fearlessly until within pistol-shot. Then the two defenders of this peculiar fortress sprang up with revolvers in each hand. "Lie close, Mary," cried Ja> kson as he fired, and the chief's horse rolled over, aim t reaching their position with the impetus of the irge. The cliief himself lay beside his horse, for another shot had ended his career. As two other horses had fallen, the rest of the band wheeled aside and galloped away, followed by a brisk fire from the white men, who had again crouched behind their breast-work and resumed their rifles. Bullets were by that time flying over them in considerable numbers, for those Indians who had not charged with their chief had, after retiring to a safe distance, taken to firing at long range. At this work Dick's rifle and straight pointing were of little use, so he reserved his fire for close quarters, while Jackson, who was almost a certain shot at average ranges, kept the savages from drawing nearer. (I 304 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE i [I': " Lie closer to the pony, Miss Mary," said Dick, as a shot passed close over the girl and whistled between him and his comrade. "Were you hurt in the fall?" "No, not in the least. Don't you think they'll hear the firing at the ranch, father ? " " Ay, lass, if there 's anybody to hear it, but I sent the boys out this mornin' to hunt up a bunch o' steers that have drifted south among Wilson's cattle, an' I fear they've not come back yet. See, the reptiles are goin' to try it again ! " As he spoke, the remnant of the Eedskins who pressed home the first charge, having held a palaver, induced the whole band to make another attempt, but tliey were met with the same vigour as before — a continuous volley at long range, which emptied several saddles, and then, when the plucky men of the tribe charged close, the white men stood up, as before, and plied them with revolvers so rapidly that they were fain to wheel aside and retire. "Ammunition's gettin' low," said Dick, in an anxious tone. "Then I'll waste no more," growled Jackson, " but only fire when I 'm safe to hit." As he spoke a dio.ant cheer was heard, and, looking back, they saw, with a rebound of hope, that a band of five or six cow-boys werj coming from the ranch and galloping full swing to the rescue. Behind them, a few seconds later, appeared a line of men who came on at a swindns trot. as an >^^- >XJ\:f!^%m£^i^'^ "AMMUNITIONS GKTTIN" L()\V," SMU HICK. - I'a-c : 1. I I 'M / i Ml OF THE SE.V AND THE ROCKIES. 305 I " Troopers, I do believe ! " exclaimed Jackson. "Thank God!" said Mary, with a deep sigh of relief as she sat up to look at them. The troopers gave a cheer of encouragement as they thundered past to the attack, but the Indians did not await the onset. At the first sight of the troops they fled, and in a few minutes pursued and pursuers alike were out of sight — hidden behind the prairie waves. " I can't tell you hew thankful I am that I didn't shoot the mare," said Dick, as they unfastened the feet of Black Polly and let her rise. " I 'd never have been able to look Ilunky Ben in the face again arter it." " Well, I 'm not sorry you spared her," said Jack- son ; " as for the two that are dead, they 're no great loss — yet I 've a kind o' regret too, for the poor things served us well." "Faithfully — even to death," added Mary, in a soiTowful tone as she stooped to pat the neck of her dead pon3^ " Will you mount, Miss Mary, and ride home ? " asked the sailor. "Thank you — no, I'd rather walk with father. We have not far to go now." " Then v/e '11 all walk together," said Jackson. Dick threw Black Polly's bridle over his arm, and they all set off at a smart walk for the ranch of Eoaring Bull, while the troops and cow-boys chased the Eedskins back into the mountains whence they had come. u ; I iiii Ml (•r^ 30G CHAKUE TO THE IlESCUE : A TALE CHAPTER XXVI. TKEATS OP VARIOUS INTKRESTING MATTERS, AND TELLS OP NEWS FROM HOME. Dick Darvall now learned that, owing to the disturbed state of the country, Captain Wilmot had left a small body of men to occupy Bull's ranch for a time; hence their presence at the critical moment when Jackson and his daughter stood so much in need of their assistance. He also found that there were two letters awaiting the party at Traitor's Trap — one for Charles Brooke, Esq., and one for Mr. S. Leather. They bore the postmarks of the old country. " You 'd better not start back wi' them for three or four days, Dick," said Jackson, when they were seated that evening in the liall of the ranch, en- joying a cup of coffee made by the fair hands of Mary. Dick shook his head. " I 'm acting post-boy just now," said he, " an' it would ill become me to hang off an' on here waitin' for a fair wind when I can beat into port with a foul one." " But if the Eedskins is up all round, as some o' OF THE SEA AND THE UOUKIES. !07 the eii- of just hang can the boys have reported, it 's not merely a foul wind but a regular gale that's blowin', an' it would puzzle you to beat into port in the teeth o' that." "I think," remarked Mary, with an arch smile, "that Mr. Darvall had better 'lay to' until the troops return to-night and report on the state of the weather." To this the gallant seaman declared that he would be only too happy to cast anchor altogether where he was for the rest of his life, but that duty was duty, and that, blow high or blow low, fair weather or foul, duty had to be attended to. " That 's true, high-principled seaman ! " re- turned Jackson; "and what d'ye consider your duty at the present time ? " " To deliver my letters, Eoarin' Bull ! " replied Dick. " Just so, but if you go slick off when Kedskins are rampagin' around, you '11 be sure to get nabbed an* roasted alive, an' so you'll never deliver your letters." " It 's my duty to try," said Dick. " Hows'ever," he added, turning to Mary with a benignant smile, "I'll take your advice. Miss Mary, an' wait for the report o' the soldiers." When the troopers returned, their report was, that the Redskins, after being pretty severely handled, had managed to reach the woods, where it w^uld have been useless to follow them so close upon '\k ' 'I^^^^^H ■Kg 1 i 'IB'' if * 308 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE II H k ■wit JHl ' ^^^^^^^^^^^^HH night ; but it was their opinion that the band, which had so nearly captured the boss of the ranch and his daughter, was merely a marauding band, from the south, of the same Indians who had previously attacked the ranch, and that, as for the Indians of the district, they believed them to be quite peace- ably disposed. "Which says a good deal for them/' remarked the officer in command of the troops, "when we consider the provocation they receive from Buck Tom, Jake the Flint, and such-like ruffians." "The moon rises at ten to-night, Dick," said Jackson, as they went together to the stables to see that the horses were all right. " That 's so," said the sailor, who noticed something peculiar in tho man's tone ; " what may be the reason 0* your reference to that bit of astronomy ? " " Why, you see," returned the other, " post-boys in these diggin's are used to travellin' night an' day. An' the troopers' report o* the weather might be worse. You was sayin' somethin' about duty, wasn't you ? " " Eight, Jackson," returned Dick, " but Black Polly is not used to travellin' night an' day. If she was, I'd take her back to-night, for moonlight is good enough for a man that has twice taken soundin's along the road, an' who 's well up in all the buoys, beacons, an' landmarks, but it would cruelty the j2:ood mare. Duty first, Dick, the mare second. You don't IS OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 309 need to trouble about her. I'll lend ye one o' my best horses an' take good care o' Black Polly till Hunky Ben claims her." " Thank 'ee, Jackson, but I '11 not part wi' Black Polly till I 've delivered her to her owner. I won't accept your ir^dte to stop here three or four days, but neither will I start off to-night. I 've too much regard for the good mare to do that." " Ho ! ho ! " thought his host, with an inward chuckle, " it 's not so much the mare as Mary that you 've a regard for, my young sailor ! " But in spite of his name the man was much too polite to express this opinion aloud. He merely said, " Well, Dick, you know that you *re welcome to squat here as long or as short a time as you like, an' use the best o' my horses, if so disposed, or do the postboy business on Black Polly. Do as ye like wi' me an' mine, boy, for it 's only fair to say that but for your help this day my Mary an' me would have bin done for." They reached the stable as he was speaking, and Jackson at once turned the conversation on the horses, thus preventing a reply from Dick — in regard to which the latter was not sorry. In the stall the form of Black Polly looked grander than ever, for her head nearly touched the roof as she raised it and turned a gleaming eye on the visitors, at the same time uttering a slij^ht whinny of expectation. : 310 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE "Why, I do believe she has tmnsferred her affections to you, Dick," said Jackson. "I never heard her do that before except to Hunky Ben, and she 's bin many a time in that stall." "More likely that she expected Ben had come to bid her good-night," returned the sailor. But the way in which the beautiful creature received Dick's caresses induced Jackson to hold to his opinion. It is more probable, however, that some similarity of disposition between Dick Darvall and Hunky Ben had commended itself to the mare, which was, as much as many a human being, of an amiable, loving disposition. She thoroughly ap- preciated the tenderness and forbearance of her master, and, more recently, of Dick. No doubt the somewhat rough way in which she had been thrown to the ground that day may have astonished her, but it evidently had not soured her temper. That night Dick did not see much of Mary. She was far too busy attending to, and providing for, the numerous guests at the ranch to be able to give individual attention to any one in particular — even had she been so disposed. Buttercup of course lent able assistance to her mistress in these domestic duties, and, despite her own juvenility — we might perhaps say, in conse- quence of it — gave Mary much valuable advice. "Dat man's in a bad way," said she, as, with her huge lips pouting earnestly, she examined the OF THK SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 311 contents of a big pot on the fire. The black maiden's lips were so pronounced and expressive that they might almost be said to constitute her face ! " What man ? " asked Mary, who, with her sleeves tucked up to the elbows, was manipulating certain proportions of flour, water, and butter. " Why, Dick, ob course. He 's de only man wuth speakin' about." Mary blushed a little in spite of herself, and laughed hilariously as she replied — "Dear me, Butter, I didn't think he had made such a deep impression on you." " 'Snot on'y on me he 's made a 'mpress'n," returned the maid, carelessly. " He makes de same 'mpress'n on eberybody." " How d' you know ? " asked Mary. " 'Cause I see," answered the maid. She turned her eyes on her mistress as she spoke, and immediately a transformation scene was i^re- sented. The eyes dwindled into slits as the cheeks rose, and the serious pout became a smile so magni- ficent that ivory teeth and scarlet gums set in ebony alone met the gaze of the beholder. *' Buttercup," exclaimed Mary, stamping her little foot firmly, " it 's boiling over ! " She was right. Teeth and gums vanished. The eyes returned, so did the pout, and the pot was whipped off the fire in a twinkling, but not before a mighty hiss was heard and the head of the black !' f 11=11 '';! '?.■ mm !'■ 312 CHA.RLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE maiden was involved in a cloud of steam and ashes ! " I told you so ! " cried Mary, quoting from an ancient MS. " No, you di'u't," retorted her servitor, speaking from the depths of her own consciousness. We refrain from following the conversation beyond this point, as it became culinary and flat. Next day Dick Darvall, refreshed — and, owing to some quite inexplicable influences, enlivened — mounted Black Polly and started off alone for Traitor's Trap, leaving his heart and a reputation for cool pluck behind him. Of course he was particularly watchful and cir- cumspect on the way up, but saw nothing to call for a further display of either pluck or coolness. On arriving at the cave he found his friends there much as he had left them. Buck Tom, owing to the skilled attentions which he had received from that amateur surgeon, Hunky Ben, and a long re- freshing sleep — tlie result of partial relief from pain — was a good deal better ; and poor Leather, cheered by the hope thus raised of his friend's recovery, was himself considerably improved in health and spirits. Fortunately for his own peace of mind, it never seemed to occur to Shank that a return to health meant, for Buck Tom, death on the gallows. Per- haps his own illness had weakened Shank's powers OF THE SliA A^D THE ROCKIES. 313 of thought. It may be, his naturally thoughtless disposition helped to render him oblivious of the solemn fact, and no one was cruel enough to remind him of it. But Buck himself never forgot it ; yet he betrayed no symptom of despondency, neither did he indicate any degree of hope. He was a man of resolute purpose, and had the power of subduing — at least of absolutely concealing — his feelings. To those who nursed him he seemed to be in a state of gentle, colourless resignation. Charlie Brooke and Hunky Ben, having been out together, had returned well laden with game ; and Leather was busy at the lire preparing a savoury mess of the same for his sick friend when Dick arrived. " News from the old country ! " he exclaimed, holding up the letters on entering the cave. " Two for Charles Brooke, Esq., and one for Mister Leather!" " They might have been more polite to me. Hand it here," said the latter, endeavouring to conceal under a jest his excitement at the sight of a letter from home ; for his wild life had cut him ofiP from communication for a very long time. " One of mine is from old Jacob Crossley," said Charlie, tearing the letter open with eager interest. " An* mine is from sister May," exclaimed Shank. If any one had observed Buck Tom at that moment, he would have seen that the outlaw started (■ ■■ 'ilMtl Win It] m ill 'i ■ 1: 314 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE m \<\ and rose almost up on one elbow, wliile a deep llusli suffused his bronzed countenance. The action and the flush were only momentary, however. He sank down again and turned his face to the wall. Charlie also started and looked at Shank when the name of May was mentioned, and the eye of Hunky I was on him at the moment. But Hunky of course could not interpret the start. He knew little of our hero's past history — nothing what- ever about May. Being a western scout, no line of his mahogany-looking face indicated that the start aroused a th':'Ught of any kind. While the recipients of the letters were busily perusing their missives, Dick Darvall gave the scout a brief outline of his expedition to the ranch, re- serving the graphic narration of incidents to a more fitting oc on, when all the party could listen. "Dick, J -'re a trump," said the scout. " I 'm a lucky fellow, anyhow," returned Dick. " In very truth ye are, lad, to escape from such a big bunch o' Eedskins without a scratch ; why " " Pooh ! " interrupted the sailor, " that 's not the luck I'm thinkin' of Havin' overhauled Roarin' Bull an' his little girl in time to help rescue them, that 's what I call luck — d'ee see ? " " Yes, I see," was Hunky Ben's laconic reply. Perhaps the scout saw more than was intended, for he probably observed the glad enthusiasm with which the bold seaman mentioned Roarins Bull's OF THE SKA AND TIIK ROCKIES. 31.1 a >> the kn' led, lith ll's little girl. We cannot tell. His wooden counten- ance betrayed no sign, and ho may have seen no- thing ; but he was a western scout, and accustomed to take particular note of the smallest signs of the wilderness. "Capital — first-rate !" exclaimed Charlie, looking up from his letter when he had finislied it. " Just what I was going to say, or something of the same sort," said Leather, as he folded his epistle. "Then there's nothing but good news?" said Charlie. " Nothing. I suppose it 's the same with you, to judge from your looks," returned Shank. " Exactly. Perhaps," said Charlie, " it may interest you all to hear my letter. There are no secrets in it, and the gentleman who writes it is a jolly old fellow, Jacob Crossley by name. You know him, Dick, as the owner of the Walnis, though you 've never seen him." " All right. I remember ; fire away," said Dick. " It is dated from his office in London," continued our hero, " and runs thus : — " My dear Brooke, — We were all very glad to hear of your safe arrival in New York, and hope that long before this reaches your hand you will have found poor Leather and got him to some place of comfort, where he may recover the health that we have been given to understand he has lost. " I. chanced to be down at Sealford visiting your li^ 316 CHARLIE TO THE liESCUE : A TALE II mother when your letter arrived ; hence my know- ledge of its contents. Mrs. Leather and her daughter May were then as usical. By the way, what a pretty girl May has become ! I remember her such a rumpled up, dress-anyhow, harum-scarum sort of a girl, that I find it hard to believe the tall, grace- ful, modest creature I meet with now is the same person ! Captain Stride says she is the finest craft he ever saw, except that wonderful * Maggie,' about whose opinions and sayings he tells us so much. "But this is a double digression. To return: your letter of course gave us all great pleasure. It also gave your mother and May some anxiety, where it tells of the necessity of your going up to that wild-west place, Traitor's Trap, where poor Leather is laid up. Take care of yourself, my dear boy, for I 'm told that the red savages are still given to those roasting, scalping, and other torturing that one has read of in the pages of Fenimore Cooper. " By the way, before I forget it, let me say, in reference to the enclosed bill, it is a loan which I have obtained for Leather, at very mod ^rate interest, and when more is required more can be obtained on the same terms. Let him understand tliis, for I don't wish that he should think, on the one hand, that he is drawing on his mother's slender resources, or, on the other hand, that he is under obligation to any one. I send the bill because I feel quite sure that you started on this expedition with too little. wmmm 0? THE SEA AND THE R0CKIE3. 317 t, 111 fli I i-est, on .r I land, •ces, [11 to Isure ttle. It is drawn in your name, and I think you will be able to cajh it at any civilised town — even in the far west ! •Talking of Captain Stride — ivas I talking of him ? Well, no matter. As he is past work now, but thinks himself very far indeed from that con- dition, I have prevailed on him to accept a new and peculiar post arising out of the curious evolutions of the firm of Withers and Co. which satisfies the firm completely and suits the captain to a T. As the work can be done anywhere, a residence has been taken for him in Sealford, mid-way between that of your mother and Mrs. Leather, so that he and his wife and little girl can run into either port when so disposed. As Mrs. L., however (to use his own phraseology), is almost always to be found at anchor in the Brooke harbour, he usually kills both with the same visit. I have not been to see him yet in the new abode, and do not know what the celebrated Maggie thinks of it. " When you find Leather, poor fellow, tell him that his mother and sister are very well. The former is indefatigable in knitting those hundreds of socks and stockings for poor people, about which there has been, and still is, and I think ever will be, so much mystery. The person who buys tliem from her must be very deep as well as honest, for no inquiries ever throw any fresh light on die subject, and he — or she, whichever it is — pays regularly as .Jl .'If : r ■"! I 318 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE: A TALE the worsted work is delivered — so I 'm told ! It is a little old lady who pays — but I've reason to believe that she 's only a go-between — some agent of a so- ciety for providing cheap clothing for the poor, I fancy, which the poor stand very much in need of, poor things ! Your good mother helps in this work — at least so I am told, but I 'm not much up in in the details of it yet. I mean to run down to see them in a few days and hear all about it. " Stride, I forgot to say, is allowed to smoke a pipe in your mother's parlour when he pays her a visit. This is so like her amiability, for she hates tobacco as much as I do. I ventured on a similarly amiable experiment one day when the worthy Cap- tain dined with me, but the result was so serious that I have not ventured to repeat it. You remem- ber my worthy housekeeper, Mrs. Bland ? Well, she kicked over the traces and became quite unmanage- able. I had given Stride leave to smoke after dessert, because I had a sort of idea that he could not digest his food without a pipe. You know my feelings with regard to young fellows who try to emulate chimneys, so you can understand that my allowing the Captain to indulge was no relaxation of my principles, but was the result of a strong objection I had to spoil the dinner of a man who was somewhat older than myself by cramming my principles down his throat " But the moment that Mrs. Bland entered I knew OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIKS. 319 a iiy I hat Iwii ew by the glance of her eye, as well as by the sniff of her nose, that a storm was brewing up — as Stride puts it — and I was not wrong. The storm burst upon me that evening. It 's impossible, and might be tedious, to give you all the conversation that we had after Stride had gone, but the upshot was that she gave me warning. " * But, my good woman,* I began " * It *s of no use good-womaning me, Mr. Crossley,' said she, * I couldn't exist in a 'ouse w'ere smokin' is allowed. My dear father died of smokin' — at least, if he didn't, smokin* must 'ave 'ad somethink to do with it, for after the dear man was gone a pipe an' a plug of the nasty stuff was found under 'is piller, so I can't stand it ; an' what 's more, Mr. Crossley, I won't stand it ! Just think, sir, 'ow silly it is to put a bit of clay in your mouth an* draw smoke through it, an' then to spit it out again as if you didn't like it ; as no more no one docs on begin- nin* it, for boys only smoke to look like men, an' men only smoke because they've got up the 'abit an' can't 'elp it. Wy, sir, you may git up any *abit. You may git the 'abit of walkin' on your 'ands an' shakin' your legs in the hair if you was to per- severe long enough, but that would only prove you a fool fit for a circus or a lunatic asylum. You never see the haniraals smokin*. They knows better. Just fancy ! what would you think if you saw the cab 'osses all a-settin* on their tails in the rank ; ,i I I m '. ,'i- f 320 CIIAULIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE m III ft;. ^IHlifjl! smokin' pipes an' cigars ! What would you think of a 'oss w'en 'is cabby cried, " Gee-up, there 's a fare a 'owlin' for us," an' that 'oss would say, " Hall right, cabby, just 'old on, hold man, till I finish my pipe" ? No, Mr. Crossley, no, I ' "'But, my good soul!' I burst in here, 'do listen ' "'No use good-soulin' me, Mr. Crossley. I tell you I won't stand it. My dear father died of it, an' I can't stand it ' " ' I hate it, Mrs. Bland, myself ! ' "I shouted this interruption in such a loud fierce tone that the good woma'i stopped and looked at me in surprise. " ' Yes, Mrs. Bland,' I continued, in the same tone, 'I detest smoking. You know I always did, but now more than ever, for your reasoning has con- vinced me that there are some evil consequences of smoking which are almost worse than smoking itself! Eest assured that never again shall the smell of the noxious weed defile the walls of this house.' " ' Lauk, sir I ' said Mrs. Bland. " I had subdued her, Charlie, by giving in with dignity. I shall try the same role next breeze that threatens. " I almost feel that I owe you an apology for the length of this epistle. Let me conclude by urging you to bring poor Leather home, strong and well. Tell him from me that there is a vacant situation in OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 321 the firm of Withers and Co. which will just suit him. He shall have it when he returns — if God spares me to see him again. But I 'm getting old, Charlie, and we know not what a day may bring fortli." "A kind — a very kind letter," said Leather earnestly, when his friend had finished reading. " Why, he writes as if he were your own father, Brooke," remarked Buck Tom, who had been lis- tening intently. " Have you known him long ? " "Not long. Only since the time that lie gave me the appointment of supercargo to the Walrus, but the little I have seen of him has aroused in me a feeling of strong regard." " My sister May refers to him here," said Leather, with a peculiar smile, as he re-opened his letter. " The greater part of this tells chiefly of private affairs which would not interest any of you, but here is a passage which forms a sort of commentary on what you have just heard : — " ' You will be amused to hear,' she writes, ' that good Captain Stride has come to live in Sealford. Kind old Mr. Crossley has given him some sort of work connected with Withers and Co.'s house which I can neither understand nor describe. Indeed, I am convinced it is merely work got up on purpose by Mr. Crossley as an excuse for giving his old friend a salary, for he knows that Captain Stride would be terribly cast down if offered a jpcnsion, as that would be equivalent to pronouncing him unfit li 322 CHA.RLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE i;' Wi 1 1 ' iSfS : 'JmI 1 ' l! for further duty, and the Captain will never admit himself to be in that condition till he is dying. Old Jacob Crossley — as you used to call him — thinks himself a very sagacious and " deep " man, but in truth there never was a simpler or more trans- parent one. He thinks that we know nothing about who it is that sends the old lady to buy up all the worsted-work that mother makes, but we know perfectly well that it is himself, and dear mother could never have gone on working with satisfaction and receiving the money for it all if we had not found out that he buys it for our fisher- men, who are said really to be very much in need of the things she makes. " ' The dear old man is always doing something kind and considerate in a sly way, under the impression that nobody notices. He little knows the power of woman's observation ! By the way, that reminds me that he is not ignorant of woman's powers in other ways. We heard yesterday that his old and faithful — though rather trying — house- keeper had quarrelled with him about smoking ! We were greatly surprised, for we knew that the old gentleman is not, and never was, a smoker. She threatened to leave, but we have since heard, I am glad to say, that they have made it up ! '" " H'm ! there 's food for meditation in all that," said Dick Darvall, as he knocked the ashes out of his pipe and put it in his vest pocket. OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 323 CHAPTER XXVII. nUNKY BKN AND CHARLIE GET BEYOND THEIR DEPTH, AND BUCK TOM GETS BEYOND RECALL. While hunting together in the woods near Traitor's Trap one day Charlie Brooke and Hunky Ben came to a halt on the summit of an eminence that commanded a wide view over the surrounding con ntry. " 'Tin a glorious place, Ben," said Brooke, leaning his rifl'i against a tree and mounting on a piece of rock, the better to take in the beautiful prospect of woodland, river, and lake. " When I think of the swarms of poor folk in the old country who don't own a foot of land, have little to eat, and only rags to cover them, I long to bring them out here and plant them down where God has spread His blessings so bountifully, where there is never lack of work, and where Nature pays high wages to those who obey her laws." " No doubt there 's room enough here," returned the scout, sitting down and laying his rifle across his knees. " I 've often thowt on them subjects, but my thowts only lead to puzzlement ; for, out here in I i m 324 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE the wilderness, a man can't git all the information needful to larn him about things in the old world. Dear, dear, it do seem strange to me that any man should choose to starve in the cities when there's the free wilderness to roam about in. I mind havin' a palaver once wi' a stove-up man when I was ranchin' down in Kansas on the Indian Territory Line. Screw was his name, an' a real kind- hearted fellow he was too — only he couldn't keep his hand off that curse o' mankind, the bottle. I mentioned to him my puzzlements about this matter, an' he up fist an' come down on the table wi' a crack that made the glasses bounce as if they 'd all come alive, an' caused a plate o' mush in front of him to spread itself all over the place — but he cared nothin' for that, he was so riled up by the thowts my obsarvation had shook up. "'Hunky Ben,' says he, glowerin' at me like a bull wi' the measles, ' the reason we stay there an' don't come out here or go to the other parts o' God's green arth is 'cause we can't help ourselves an' don't know how — or what — don't know nothin' in fact ! ' " ' That 's a busted-up state o' ignorance, no doubt,' said I, in a soothin' sort o' way, for I see'd the man was riled pretty bad by ancient memories, an' looked gittin' waxier. He wore a black eye, too, caught in a free fight the night before, which didn't improve his looks. ' You said ive just nov/,' says I. ' Was you one o' them ? ' OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 325 " ' Of course I was,' says he, taniiu' down a little, ' an' I 'd bin one o' them yet — if not food for worms by this time— if it hadn't bin for a dook as took pity on me.* "'What's a dook?' says I. "'A dook?' says he. 'Why, he's a dook, you know ; a sort o' markis — somewheres between a lord an' a king. I don't know zackly where, an' hang me if I care ; but they 're a bad lot, are some o' them dooks— rich as Pharaoh, king o' J'rus'lem, an' hard as nails— though I 'm bound for to say they ain't all alike. Some on 'em 's no better nor costermongers, others are men ; men what keeps in mind that the same God made us all an' will call us all to the same account, an' that the same kind o' worms '11 finish us all off at last. But this dook as took pity on me was a true blue. He wasn't one o' the hard sort as didn't care a rush for us so long' as his own stummick was full. Neether was he one o' the butter-mouths as dursen't say bo to a goose. He spoke out to me like a man, an' he knew well enough that I 'd bin born in the London slums, an' that my daddy had bin born there before me, an' that my mother had caught her death o' cold through havin' to pawn her only pair o' boots to pay my school fees an' then walk barefutt to the court in a winter day to answer for not sendin' her boy to the board school — her send me to school ! — she might as well have tried to send daddy himself ; IM 11 !■(▼ ' Uu 326 CHARLIE TO TIIH RESCUE: A TALE an' him out o' work, too, an' all on us starvin'. My dook, when he hear about it a'most bust wi' passion. I hear 'im arterwards talkin' to a overseer, or some- body, " confound it," says he — no, not quite that, for my dook he never swore, only he said &omethin' pretty stiff — " these people are starvin'," says he, " an' pawnin' their things for food to keep *em alive, an' they can't git work nohow," says he, " an' yet you worry them out o' body an' soul for school fees ! " ' I didn't hear no more, for the overseer smoothed 'im down somehows. But that dook — that good Qucm, Hunky Ben, paid my passage to Ameriky, an' sent me off wi' his blessin' an' a Bible. Unfortnitly I took a bottle wi' me, an when I got to the other side I got hold of another bottle, an' another — an' there stands the last of 'em.' " An' wi' that, Mr. Brooke, he fetched the bottle in front of him such a crack wi' his fist as sent it all to smash against the opposite wall. " * Well done. Screw ! ' cried the boy at the bar, laughin' ; * have another bottle ? ' " Poor Screw smiled in a sheepish way, for the rile was out of him by that time, an', says he, ' "Well, I don't mind if I do. A shot like that deserves another!' " Ah. me ! " continued the scout, " it do take the manhood out of a fellow, that drink. Even when his indignation 's roused and he tries to shake it off, he can't do it." OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 327 ' " Well do I know that, Ben. It is only God who can help a man in such a case." The scout gravely shook his head. "Seems to me, Mr. Brooke, that there 's a screw loose some- wheres in our theology, for I 've heard parsons as well as you say that — as if the Almighty condescended to help us only when we 're in bad straits. Now, though I'm but a scout and pretend to no book larnin', it comes in strong upon me that if God made us an* measures our movements, an' gives us every beat o' the pulse, an' counts the very hairs of our heads, we stand in need of His help in every case and at all times ; that we can't save ourselves from mischief under any circumstances, great or small, without Him." "I have thought of that too, sometimes," said Charlie, sitting down on the rock beside his com- panion, and looking at him in some perplexity, " but does not the view you take savour somewhat of fatalism, and seek to free us from responsibility in regard to what we do ? " " It don't seem so to me," replied the scout, " I 'm not speakin', you see, so much of doin' as of escapin'. No doubt we are perfectly free to will, but it don't follow that we are free to act. I 'm quite free to %vill to cut my leg off or to let it stay on ; an' if I carry out my will an' do it, why, I'm quite free there too — an' also responsible. But I ain't free to sew it on again however much I may will to do so 328 CIIAllLIE TO THK UESCUK : A TALE irn 1 1^ I — leastwise if I do it won't stick. The consekinces o' my deed I must bear, but who will deny that the Almighty could grow on another leg if He chose ? Why, some creeters he does allow to get rid of a limb or two, an' grow new ones ! So, you see, I 'm responsible for my deeds, but, at the same time, I must look to God for escape from the con- sekinces, if He sees fit to let me escape. A man, bein' free, may drink himself into a drunkard, but he 's not free to cure himself. He can't do it. The demon Crave has got him by the throat, forces him to open his mouth, and pours the fiery poison down. The thing that he is free to do is to will. He may, if he chooses, call upon God the Saviour to help him ; an' my own belief is that no man ever made such a call in vain." " How, if that be so, are we to account for the failure of those who try, honestly strive, struggle, and agonise, yet obviously fail ? " " It 's not for the like o' me, Mr. Brooke, to ex- pound the outs an' ins o' all mysteries. Yet I will p'int out that you, what they call, beg the question when you say that such people 'honestly' strive. If a man trios to unlock a door with all his midit and , iieart nrid soul, honestly tries, by turnin' vrong way, he '11 strive till doomsday in' the door ! It 's my opinion that a mai. y j^.b into difficulties of his own free-will. He car get out of them only by applyin' to his Maker." M .1 OF TllK SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 321) During the latter part of this couvCiSatioii the hunters had risen and v/ere making their way- through the trackless woods, when the scout stopped suddenly and gazed for a few seconds intently at the ground. Then he kneeled and began to examine the spot with great care. "A footprint here," he said, " that tells of recent visitors." " Friends, Ben, or foes ? " asked our hero, also going on his knees to examine the marks. " Well, now, I see only a pressed blade or two of grass, but nothing the least like a footprint. It puzzles me more than I can tell how you scouts seem so sure about invisible marks." "Truly, if they was invisible you would have reason for surprise, but my wonder is that you don't see them. Any child in wood-craft might read them. See, here is the edge o' the right futt making a faint impression where the ground is soft — an' the heel ; surely ye see the heel ! " " A small hollow I do see, but as to its being a heel-print I could not pronounce on that. Has it been made lately, think you 1 " " Ay, last night or this morning at latest ; and it was made by the futt of Jake the Flint. I know it well, for I 've had to track him more than once an' would spot it among a thousand." "If Jake is in the neighbourhood, wouldn't it be well to return to the cave ? He and some of his gang might attack it in our absence." 330 CHAULIH TO THE IIKSCUE : A "ALE !!}' ?wii mm " No fear o' that," replied the scout, risiug from his inspection, the " futt p'ints away from the cave. I should say that the Flint has bin there durin' the night, an* found that we kep' too sharp a look-out to be caught sleepin'. Where he went to arter that no one can tell, but we can hoof it an' see. Like enough he went to spy us out alone, an' then re- turned to his comrades." So saying, the scout " hoofed it " through the woods at a pace that tested Charlie Brooke's powers of endurance, exceptionally good though they were. After a march of about four miles in comparative silence they were conducted by the footprints to an open space in the midst of dense thicket, where the fresh ashes of a camp fire indicated that a party had spent some time. "Just so. They came to see what was up and what could be done, found that nothin' partiklar was up an' nothin' at all could be done, so olf they go, mounted, to fish in other waters. Just as well for us." " But not so well for the fish in the other waters," remarked Charlie. "True, but we can't help that. Come, we may as well return now." While Charlie and the scout were thus folio wi::fT O the trail. Buck Tom, lying in the cave, became suddenly much worse. It seemed as if some string in his system had suddenly snapped and let the poor human wreck run down. OF THE SEA. AND THE ROCKIES. 331 " Come here, Leather," he gasped faintly. Poor Shank, who never left him, and who was preparing food for him at the time, was at his side in a moment, and bent anxiously over hira. " D' you want anything ? " he asked. *" Nothing, Shank. Where 's Dick ? " "Outside; cutting some fii3wood." "Don't call him. I'm glad we are alone," said the outlaw, seizing his friend's hand with a feeble, tremulous grasp. "I'm dying, Shank, dear boy. You forgive me ? " " Forgive you, Ealph ! Ay — long, long ago I " He could not finish the sentence. "I know you did, Shank," returned the dying man, with a faint smile. " How it will fare with me hereafter I know not. I 've but one word to say when I get there, and that is — guilty ! I — I loved your sister. Shank. Ay — you never guessed it. I only tell you now that I may send her a message. Tell her that the words she once said to me about a Saviour have never left me. They are like a light in the darkness now. God bless you — Shank — and —May." With a throbbing heart and listening ear Shank waited for more ; but no more came. The hand he still held was lifeless, and the spirit of the outlaw had entered within the veil of that mysterious Hereafter. 332 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE: A TALE i I lit! CHAPTER XXVIIL CHASE, CAPTDIIE, AND END OP JAKK THE FLINT. It was growing dark when Brooke and the scout reached the cave that evenmg and found that Buck Tom was dead ; but they had barely time to realise the fact wlien their attention was diverted by the sudden arrival of a large band of horsemen — cow- boys and others — the leader of whom seemed to be the cow-boy Crux. Hunky Ben and his friends had, of course, made rapid preparations to receive them as foes, if need v/ere ; but, on recognising who composed the caval- cade, they went out to meet them. " Hallo ! Hunky," shouted Crux, as he rode up and leaped off his steed, " have they been here ? " " Who d' ye mean ? " demanded the scout. " Why, Jake the Flint, to be sure, an' his mur- derin' gang. Haven't ye heard the news ? " " Not I. Who d' ye think would take the trouble to come up here with noos ? " "They've got clear off, boys," said Crux, in a voice of great disappointment. " So we must off saddle, an' camp where we are for the night." OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 333 While the rest of the party dismounted and dis- persed to look for a suitable camping-ground, Crux explained the reason of their unexpected appearance. After the Flint and his companions had left their mountain fastness, as before described, they had appeared in different parts of the country and com- mitted various depredations ; some of their robberies having been accompanied with bloodshed and violence of a nature which so exasperated the people that an organised band had at length been gathered to go in pursuit of the daring outlaw. But Jake was somewhat Napoleonic in his character, swift in his movements, and sudden in his attacks ; so that, while his exasperated foes were searching for him in one direction, news would be brought of his having committed some daring and bloody deed far off in some other quarter. His latest acts had been to kill and rob a post-runner, who happened to be a great favourite in his locality, and to attack and murder, in mere wanton cruelty, a family of friendly Indians, belonging to a tribe which had never given the whites any trouble. The luiy of the people, therefore, was somewhat commensurate with the wickedness of the man. They resolved to capture him, and, as there was a number of resolute cow-boys on the frontier, to whom life seemed to be a bauble to be played with, kept, or cast lightly away, according to circumstances, it seemed as if the effort made at this time would be successful. , -• ^ 334 CHAKLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE .. [ m The latest reports that seemed reliable were to the effect that, after slaying the Indians, Jake and his men had made off in the direction of his old stronghold at the head of Traitor's Trap. Hence the invasion by Crux and his band. " You '11 be glad to hear — or sorry, I 'm not sure which — " said the scout, " that Buck Tom has paid his last debt." " What ! defunct ? " exclaimed Crux. " Ay. Whatever may have bin his true character an' deeds, he 's gone to his account at last." " Are ye sure, Hunky ? " " If ye don't believe me, go in there an' you '11 see what 's left of him. The corp ain't cold yet." The rugged cow-boy entered at once, to convince himself by ocular demonstration. " Well," said he, on coming out of the cave, " I wish it had been the Flint instead. He '11 give us some trouble, you bet, afore we bring him to lie as flat as Buck Tom. Poor Buck ! They say he wasn't a bad chap in his way, an' I never heard of his bein' cruel, like his comrades. His main fault was castin' in his lot wi* the Flint. They say that Jake has bin carousin' around, throwin' the town-folk everywhere into fits." That night the avengers in search of Jake the Flint slept in and around the outlaws' cave, while the chief of the outlaws lay in the sleep of death in a shed outside. During the night the scout went oat to see that the body was undisturbed, and was OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 335 startled to observe a creature of some sort movinrr near it. Ben was troubled by no superstitious fears, so he approached with the stealthy, cat-like tread which he had learned to perfection in his frontier life. Soon he was near enough to perceive, through the bushes, that the form was that of Shank Leather, silent and motionless, seated by the side of Buck Tom, with his face buried in his hands upon his knees. A deep sob broke from him as he sat, and again he was silent and motionless. The scout withdrew as silently as he had approached, leaving the poor youth to watch and mourn over the friend who had shared his hopes and fears, sins and sorrows, so long— long at least in experience, if not in numbered years. Next morning at daybreak they laid the outlaw in his last resting-place, and then the avengers pre- pared to set off in pursuit of his comrades. "You'll join us, I fancy," said Crux to Charlie Brooke. " No ; I remain with my sick friend Leatlier. But perhaps some of my comrades may wish to go with you." It was soon arranged that Huiiky Ben and Dick Darvall should join the party. " We won't be long o' catchin' him up," said Crux, "for the Flint has become desperate of late, an' we 're pretty sure of a man when he gets into that fix." I) 336 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE The desperado to whom Crux referred was one of those terrible human monsters who may be termed a growth of American frontier life, men who, hav- ing apparently lost all fear of God, or man, or death ; carry their lives about with hilarious indifference, ready to risk them at a moment's notice on the slightest provocation, and to take the lives of others without a shadow of compunction. As a natural consequenc , such maniacs, for they are little else, are feared by all, and even brave men feel the necessity of being unusually careful while in their company. Among the various wild deeds committed by Jake and his men was one which led them into serious trouble and proved fatal to their chief. Coming to a village, or small town, one night, they resolved to have a regular spree, and for this purpose encamped a short way outside the town till it should be quite dark. About midnight the outlaws, to the number of eight, entered the town, each armed with a Win- chester and a brace of revolvers. Scattering them- selves, they began a tremendous fusillade, as fast as they could fire, so that nearly the whole population, supposing the place was attacked by Indians, turned out and tied to the mountains behind the town. The Flint and his men made straight for the chief billiard- room, which they found deserted, and there, after helping themselves to all the loose cash available, they began to drink. Of course they soon became wild under the influence of the liquor, but retained : OF THE SEA AND THE KOCKIES. 337 sense enough to mount their horses and gallop away before the people of the place mustered courage to return and attack the foe. It was while galloping madly away after this raid that the murderous event took place which ended in the dispersal of the gang. Daylight was creeping over the land when the outlaws left the town. Jake was wild with excite- ment at what had occurred, as well as with drink, and began to boast and swear in a horrible manner. When they had ridden a good many miles, one of the party said he saw some Kedskins in a clump of wood they were approaching. " Did ye ? " cried Jake, flourishing his rifle over his head and uttering a terrible oath, "then I'll shoot the first Eedskin I come across." " Better not, Jake," said one of his men. " They 're all friendly Injins about here." " What 's the odds to me ! " yelled the drunken wretch. " I '11 shoot the firso 1 see as I would a rabbit." At that moment they were passing a bluff covered with timber, and, unfortunately, a poor old Indian woman came out of the wood to look at the horse- men as they flew past. Without an instant's hesitation Jake swerved aside, rode straight up to the old creature, and blew out her brains. Accustomed as they were to deeds of violence ' ni 338 ClIAKLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE and bloodshtjcl, his comrades were overwhelmed with horror at this, and, fearing the consequences of the dastardly murder, rode for life away over the plains. But the deed had been witnessed by the relatives of the poor woman. Without sound or cry, fifty Ked men leaped on their horses and swept with the speed of light along the other side of the bluff, which concealed them from the white men's sight. Thus they managed to head them, and when Jake and his gang came to the end of the strip of wood, the Eed men, armed with rifle and revolver, were in front of them. There was something deadly and unusual in the silence of the Indians on this occasion. Concen- trated rage seemed to have stopped their power to yell. Swift as eagles they swooped down and sur- rounded the little band of white men, who, seeing that opposition would be useless, and, perhaps, cowed by the sight of such a cold-blooded act, offered no resistance at all, while their arms were taken from them. With lips white from passion, the Indian chief in command demanded who did the deed. The out- laws pointed to Jake, who sat on his horse with glaring eyes and half-open mouth like one stupefied. At a word from the chief, he was seized, dragged off his horse, and held fast by two powerful men while a third bound his arms. A spear was driven dee]} I OF TllK SEA AND THE KOCKIES. 339 Lined jnces :r the itives , fi% til the bluff, sigW. a Jake : wood, r, were I in the Doncen- ower to md sur- 3, seeing , cowed fered no ^en from chief in The out- )rse with stupefied. L-agged off lien while iven deei^ into the ground to serve as a stake, and to tliis Juke was tied. He made no resistance. He seemed to have been paralysed, and remained quite passive while they stripped him naked to the waist. His comrades, still seated on their horses, seemed incap- able of action. Tliey had, no doubt, a presentiment of what was coming. The chief then drew his scalping knife, and passed it swiftly round the neck of the doomed man so as to make a slight incision. Grasping the llap raised at the back of the neck, he tore a broad band of skin from Jake's body, right down his back to his waist. A fearful yell burst from the lips of the wretched man, but no touch of pity moved the hearts of the Eed men, whose chief prepared to tear off another strip of skin from the quivering flesh. At the same moment the companions of the Flint wheeled their horses round, and, filled with horror, fled at full speed from the scene. The Ked men did not attempt to hinder them. There was no feud at that time between the white men and that particular tribe. It was only the murderer of their old kinswoman on whom they were bent on wreaking their vengeance, and with terrible cruelty was their diabolical deed accom- plished. The comrades of the murderer, left free to do as they pleased, scattered as they fled, as if each man were unable to endure the sight of the other, and they never again drew together. ' f \' 1 ' J[M t oll^m.IK TO -niii uescuf, : a t.u.e 1(5 340 vt , lav Crux aurthis band of aven- Ou the very next day Cr ^^ ^^^j^^ ge. were ^f »f VJll^"^^^^^^^ straight for the t»^" ''""J'vhere Crux had been i„to such consternatron a^ -^ ^^^^^ „j ,,, given to understand that tru w ^ Im'. movements would V^^^ ^.„,, The sun was «*"g' ^''^ "i„ „„« of the hand „s streaming over ^^^''f'^^l^^Z^.,., wi.re suggested that :t -- J "rther that night. ,,ey were than to pro -y ^^^^^^„ ^,^„, " So ^^« ^f ' '^y; y; ,ye fell on a distant object suitable spot, until his eye that riveted his attention^ ^^^^^^^^^ ,^^, .. A strange-lookmg tl iHo ^^,„g —rJvrrnLn;:.»eer Sight inmy rS-t:— .Mowed by the whole cav- "''':t ay. bloody work bin goin' on here. I see," ^^tteredlhe scout as they drew nea. " .. xhe accursed B^^^>-^ ' " f ^^^ ,\n a^ body ^e need scarcely say that it was tl ^^^ of JaUe they had thus d— ^ ^ ^ ,, J„u. ^hich was nearly broken by the wei„ OF TIIR SKA AND THE ROCKIES. 341 ven- king rowu been ,f the I. i band where iiibt. D it for a i object ied tlie le same standin' an stand lit in my . lid Crux, aiglrt for /hole cav- 3re, I see," IX. dead body the spear f the muti- lated carcass. Besides tearing most of the skin off tlie wretched man's body, the savages had scal])cd Jake ; but a deep wound over the region of the heart showed that they had, at all events, ended his sufferings before they left him. While the avengers — whose vengeance was thus forestalled — were busy scraping a shallow grave for the remains of the outlaw, a shout was raised by several of the party who dashed after something into a neighbouring copse. An Indian had been discovered there, and the cruelties which had been practised on the white man had, to a great extent, transferred their wrath from the outlaw to his murderers. But they found that the rush was needless, for the Indian who had been observed was seated on the ground beside what appeared to be a newly formed grave, and he made no attempt to escape. He was a very old and feeble man, yet something of the fire of the warrior gleamed from his sunken eyes as he stood up and tried to raise his bent form into an attitude of proud defiance. " Do you belong to the tribe that killed this white man ? " said Hunky Ben, whose knowledge of most of the Indian dialects rendered him the fitting spokesman of the party. " I do," answered the Indian in a stern yet quavering voice that seemed very pitiful, for it was evident that the old man thought Ir*^ last hour had ^»- 342 CllAHLTE TO THE KESCUE : A TALE come, and tliat he had made up his mind to die as became a dauntless Indian brave. At that moment a little Indian girl, who had hitherto lain quite concealed in the tangled grass, started up like a rabbit from its lair and dashed into the thicket. Swiftly though the child ran, however, one of the young men of the party was swifter. He sprang off' in pursuit, and in a few moments brought her back. "Your tribe is not at war with tlie pale-faces," continued the scout, taking no notice of this episode. " They have been needlessly cruel." For some moments the old man gazed ^ternly at his questioner as if he heard him not. Then the frown darkened, and, pointing to the grave at his feet, he said — " The white man was more cruel." " What had he done ? " asked the scout. But the old man would not reply. There came over his withered features that stony stare of resolute contempt which he evidently intended to maintain to the last in spite of torture and death. " Better question the child," suggested Dick Darvall, who up to that moment had been too much horrified by what he had witnessed to be able to speak. The scout looked at the child. She stood trem- bling beside her captor, with evidences of intense terror on her dusky countenance, for she was only OF THE SEA AND THE KOCKIES. 343 too well acciistomed to the cruelties practised by - white men and red on each other to have any hope either for the old man or herself. " Poor thing ! " said Hunky Ben, laying his strong hand tenderly on the girl's head. Then, taking her hand, he led her gently aside, and spoke to her in her own tongue. There was something so unexpectedly soft in the scout's voice, and so tender in his touch, that tlie little brown maid was irresistibly comforted. When one falls into the grasp of Goodness and Strength, relief of mind, more or less, is an inevitable result. David thought so when he said, " Let me fall now into the hand of the Lord." The Indian child evi- dently thought so when she felt that Hunky Ben was strong and perceived that he was good. "We will not hurt you, my little one," said the scout, when he had reached a retired part of the copse, and, sitting down, placed the child on his knee. "The white man wlio was killed by your people was a very bad man. We were looking for him to kill him. Was it the old man that killed him ? " "No," replied the child, "it was the chief." " Why was he so cruel in his killing ? " asked the scout. "Because the white man was a coward. He feared to face our warriors, but he shot an old woman!" answered the little maid; and then, in- i^ i . J :4> ' CHARLIE TO THE IlESCUE : A TALE spired with confidence by the scout's kind and pitiful expression, she related the whole story of the savage and wanton murder perpetrated by the Flint, the subsequent vengeance of her people, and the unchecked flight and dispersion of Jake's com- rades. The old woman who had been slaiu; she said, was her grandmother, and the old man who had been captured was her grandfather. "Friends, our business has been done for us," said the scout on rejoining his comrades, " so we 've nothing to do but return home." He then told them in detail what the Indian girl had related. " Of course," he added, " we 've no right to find fault wi' the Redskins for piiiiishin* the murderer arter their own fashion, though we might wish they had bin somewhat more merciful " "No, we mightn't," interrupted Crux stoutly. "The Flint got off easy in mij opinion. If I had had the doin' o'c, I 'd have roasted him alive." " No, you wouldn't, Crux," returned Bon, with a benignant smile. " Young chaps like you are always, accordin' to your own sliowin', worse than the devil himself when your blood's roused by indignation at cruelty or injustice, but you sing a good deal softer when you come to the scratch with your enemy in your power." "You 're wrong, Hunky Ben," retortod Crux iiriuly. " Any man as would l)low the brains out of a poor mn OF THE SEA AND THE KOCKIES. 345 old woman in cold blood, as the Hint did, desarves the worst that can be done to him." "I didn't say nowt about what he desarves," returned the scout ; " I was speakin' about what yoit would do if you'd got the killin' of him." "Well, well, mates," said Dick Darvall, a little impatiently, " seems to me that we 're wastin' our wind, for the miserable wretch, bein' defunct, is beyond the malice o' red man or white. I there- fore vote that we stop palaverin', 'bout ship, clap on all sail an' lay our course for home." This suggestion met with general approval, and the curiL as mixture of men and races, which had thus for a brief period been banded together under the influence of a united purpose, prepared to break ip. " I suppose you an' Darvall will make tracks for Traitor's Trap," said Crux to Hunky Ben. "That's my trail to be," answered the scout. " What say you. Black Polly ? Are ye game for such a spin to-night ? " The mare arched her glossy neck, put back both ears, and gave other indications that she would have fully appreciated the remarks of her master if she had only understood them. " Ah ! Bluefire and I don't talk in that style," said Crux, with a laugh. " I give him liis orders an' he knows that he 's got to obey. He and I will make a bee-line for David's Store an' have a drink. AV ho '11 keep me company ? " fl i tii ^ 346 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE Several of the more reckless among the men in- timated their willingness^ to join the toper. The rest said they had other business on hand than to go carousin' around. " Why, Crux," said one who had been a very lively member of the party during the ride out, " d'ye know, boy, that it 's writ in the book o' Fate that you an' I an' all of us, have just got so many beats o' the pulse allowed us — no more an' no less — an' we 're free to run the beats out fast or slow, just as we like? There's notliin' like drink for makin' em go fast ! " I don't believe that, Kobin Stout," returned Crux ; " an' even if I did believe it I 'd go on just the same, for I prefer a short life and a merry one to a long life an' a wishywashy miserable one." "Hear ! hear !" exclaimed several of the topers. "Don't ye think, Orux," interposed Darvall, " that a long life an' a happy one might be better than either?" " Hear ! hear ! " remarked Hunky Ben, with a quiet laugh. " Well, boys," said one fine bright-looking young fellow, patting the neck of his pony, " wliether my life is to be long or short, merry, wishywashy or happy, I shall be off cow-punching for the next six months or so, somewhere about the African bend, on the Colorado Kiver, in South Texas, an' I mean to try an' keep my pulse a-goin' vnthout drink. OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 347 I 've seen more tliau enough o' the curse that comes to us all on account of it, and I won't be cauglit in that trap again." " Then you 've bin caught in it once already, Jo Pinto ? " said a comrade. " Ay, I just have, but, you bet, it 's the last time. I don't J3e the fun of makin' my veins a channel foi- lirevv'ater, and then finishin' off with D. T., if bullet or knife should leave me to go that length." " I suppose, Pinto," said Crux, with a smile of contempt, " that you 've bin to hear that mad fellow Gough, who 's bin howlin' around in these parts of late?" " That 's so," retorted Pinto, flushing with sudden anger. " I 've been to hear J. B. Gough, an' what 's more I mean to take his advice in spite of all the flap-jack soakers 'tween the Atlantic and the Rockies. He 's a true man, is Gough, every inch of him, and men and women that 's bin used chieflv to cursin' in time past have heaped more blessin's on that man's head than would sink you. Crux, — if put by mistake on yoior head — right tlirough the lowest end o' the bottomless pit." " Pretty deep that, anyhow ! " exclaimed Crux, with a careless laugh, for he had no mind to quarrel with the stout young cow-boy >vhose black eyeri he had made to flash so lieenly. ** It seems to me," said another of the band, as he hun^i" the coils of his lasso round tlie horn of his i ,1. iisais-. tiasMsmgiiist^fi^ i' »i; 348 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE Mexican saddle, " that we must quit talkiii' unless we make up our minds to stop here till sun-up. Who's goin' north? My old boss is financially busted, so I've hired to P. T. Granger, who has started a new ranch at the head o' Pugit's Creek. He wants one or two good hands I know, an' I 've reason to believe he *s an honest man. I go up trail at thirty dollars per month. The outfit 's to consist of thirty hundred head of Texas steers, a chuck wagon and cook, with thirty riders includin' the boss himself an' six hirses to the man." A couple cf stout-looking cow-boys offered to join the last speaker on the strength of his representa- tions, and then, as the night bid fair to be bright and calm, the whole band scattered and galloped away in separate grcaps over the moon-Ft plains. iiEC¥^tCJM&Mca«?i>^« "it ,v^^jBMHb^ OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 349 iiless i-iip. daily f has reek. I've trail •nsist huck the )join enta- >right loped lis. CHAPTER XXIX. TIIKY RKTUHN TO TIIF IIANCII OF ROARING BULL, WHERK SOMKTIllNG SERIOUS IIAITENS TO DICK DAllVALL. When Dick Darvall and Huiiky lien returned from the expedition which we have just described, they found all right at the cave, except that a letter to Leather had been sent up from Bull's ranch which had caused him much grief and anxiety. " I have been eagerly awaiting your return, Ben," said Charlie Brooke, when he and the scout went outside the cave to talk the matter over, " for the news in this letter has thrown poor Leatlier back considerably, and, as he will continue to fret about it and get worse, something must be done." He paused for a few moments, and the scout gravely waited for liim to resume. "The fact is," continued Charlie, "that poor Leather's father has been given far too much to the bottle during a great part of his life, and the letter just received tells us that he has suddenly left home and gone no one knows where. Kovv, my friend Leather and his father were always very fond of each other, and the son cannot forgive himself for ^tfC'-^^; 350 CHARM !<: TO THE RESCUE : A TALE having at various times rather encouraged his father in drinking, so that his conscience is reproaching him terribly, as you may well believe, and he insists on it that he is now quite able to undertake the voyage home. You and I know, Ben, that in his present state it would be madness for him to attempt it ; yet to lie and fret here would be almost as bad. Now, what is your advice ? " For some moments the scout stood silent with his eyes on the ground and his right hand grasping his chin — his usual attitude when engaged in meditation. " Is there enough o' dollars," he asked, " to let you do as ye like ? " "No lack of dollars, I dare say, when needed," replied Charlie. " Then my advice," returned the scout promptly, "is to take Leather straight off to-morrow mornin' to Bull's ranch ; make him comfortable there, call him Mister Shank, — so as nobody '11 think he 's been the man called Leather, who 's bin so long ill along wi' poor Buck Tom's gang, — and then you go off to old England to follow his father's trail till you find him. Leather has great belief in you, sir, and the feelin' that you are away doin' your best for him will do more to relieve his mind and strengthen his body than tons o' doctor's stuff. Dick Darvall could remain to take care of him if he has no objection." OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 351 " I rather think he would be well pleased to do so," replied Charlie, with a laugh of significance, which the scout quietly subjected to analysis in what he styled his brain-pan, and made a note of the result in his mental memorandum book ! " But I doubt if Leather " " Shank," interrupted the scout. " Call him Shank from now, so 's we may all git used to it ; tho' p'r'aps it ain't o' much importance, for most o' the men that saw him here saw him in uncommon bad condition an' would hardly know him again, besides, they won't likely be at Bull's ranch, an' the captain an' troops that were here have been ordered down south. Still one can never be too careful when life and death may be i' the balance. Your friend niver was one o' the outlaws, but it mightn't be easy to prove that." " Well, then," resumed our hero, " I was going to say that I fear Shank won't be able to stand the journey even to the ranch." "'No fear of that, sir. We'll carry him down to the foot o' the Trap, an' when we git out on the plain mount him on one o' the horses left by poor Buck — the one that goes along so quiet that they 've given it the name o' the Wheelbarrow." " Should I speak to him to-night about our plan, Ben ? " " No. If 1 was you I 'd only say we 're goin' to take him down to Bull's ranch i' llie mornin'. i ' {' *f^^^ n 352 GIIAKUE TO THE IJESCUK : A TALE !ii|!i VHi That'll take his mind a bit off the letter, an' then it '11 give him an extra lift when you tell him the rest o' the plan." In accordance with this arrangement, on the following morning a litter was made with two stout poles and a blanket between. On this the invalid was laid after an early breakfast ; another blanket was spread over him, and the scout and Dick, taking it up between them, carried him out of Traitor's Trap, while Charlie Brooke, riding Jackson's horse, led the Wheelbarrow by the bridle. As for Black Polly, she was left to follow at her own convenience, a whistle from Hunky Ben being at any moment sufficient to bring her promptly to her master's side. On reaching the plain the litter was laid aside, the blankets were fastened to the horses, and Shank prepared, as Dick said, to board Wheelbarrow. " Now then, Shank," said the seaman, while helping his friend, " don't be in a hurry. Ncthin' w-is ever done well in a hurry cither afloat or ashore. Git your futt well into the stirrup an' don't take too much of a spring, else you '11 be apt to go right over on the starboard side. Hup you go ! " The worthy sailor lent such willing aid that there is little doubt he would have precipitated the cata- strophe against which he warned, had not Hunky Ben placed himself on the " starboard side " of the steed and counteracted the heave. After that all went well; the amble of the Wheelbarrow fully ■., j.,-,-i-...;5,:.iiMM^> lilllllllin OF THE SFA AND THE ROCKIES. 353 justified the title, and in due course the party arrived at the ranch of Eoaring Bull, where the poor invalid was confined to his room for a consider- able time thereafter, and became known at the ranch as Mr. Shank. One evening Charlie Brooke entered the kitchen of the ranch in search of his friend Dick Darvall, who had a strange fondness for Buttercup, and frequently held converse with her in the regions of the back-kitchen. " I dun know whar he is, massa Book," answered the sable beauty when appealed to, " he 's mostly souiewhar' around when he 's not nowhar else." " I shouldn't wonder if he was," returned Charlie with a hopeful smile. " I suppose Miss Mary 's not around anywhere, is she ? " " I shouldn'u wonder if she wasn't ; but she ain't here, massa," said the black maid earnestly. "You are a truthful girl. Butter — stick to that, and you '11 get on in life." With this piece of advice Cliarlie left the kitchen abruptly, and thereby missed the eruption of teeth and gums that immediately followed his remark. Making his way to the chamber of his sick friend, Charlie sat down at the open window beside him. " How d' you feel this evening, my boy ? " he asked. " A little better, but — oli dear me ! — I begin to despair of getting well enough to go home, and it's z •i'li 354 CHARLIE TO THE UESCUE : A TALE ':I^Ht iiupossihlo to avoid beiiit; worried, fur unless father is soiiglit for and found soon lie will probably sink altogether. You have no idea, Charlie, what a fear- ful temptation drink becomes to those who have once given way to it and passed a certain point." "I don't know it personally — though I take no credit for that — but I have some idea of it, I think, from what I have seen and heard. But I came to relieve your mind on the sul)ject, Shank. I wanted to speak with Dick Darvall first to see if he would fall in with my plan, but as I can't find him just now I thought it best to come straight to you about it. Hallo ! There is Dick." " Where ?" said Shank, bending forward so as to see the place on which his friend's eyes were fixed. " There, don't you see 1 Look across that bit of green sward, about fifty yards into the bush, close to that lopped pine where a thick shrub overhangs a fallen tree " " I see — I see ! " exclaimed Shank, a gleeful ex- pression banishing for a time the look of suffering and anxiety that had become habitual to him. " Why, the fellow is seated beside Mary Jackson ! " "Ay, and holding a very earnest conversation with her, to judge from his attitude," said Charlie. " Probably inquiring into the market-price of steers — or some absorbing toi)ic of that sort." " He 's grasping her hand now ! " exclaimed Shank, with an expanding mout!i. OF TIIK SEA AND TIIK UOCKIKS. 355 a\ ex- fering him. on 1 " "And slie lets him liold it. Really this becomes interesting," observed Charlie, with gravity. " Ihit, my friend, is not this a species of eavesdropping? Are we not taking mean advantage of a pair who fondly think themselves alone ? Come, Shank, let us turn our backs on the view and try to fix our minds on matters of personal interest." But the young men had not to subject themselves to such a delicate test of friendship, for before they could make any attempt to carry out the suggestion, Dick and Mary were seen to rise abruptly and hasten from the spot in different directions. A few minutes later Buttercup was observed to glide upon the scene and sit down upon the self-same fallen tree. The distance from the bedroom window was too great to permit of sounds reaching the observers' ears, or of facial contortions meeting their eyes very distinctlv, but there could be no doubt as to the feelings of the damsel, or the meaning of those swayings to and fro of her body, the throwing back of her head, and the pressing of her hands on her sides. Suddenly she held out a black hand as if inviting some one in the bush to draw near. The invitation was promptly accepted by a large brown dog — a well-known favourite in the ranch house- hold. Rover — for such was his name — leaped on the fallen tree and sat down on the spot which had previously been occupied by the fair Mary. The IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V // % Wo <. %o w, i< #A l.u LI .25 1.4 ilM :l,ll36 1 2.0 1.6 6" '/W & w w el ,r*- /. /y^ w / o 7 PhotogiBphic Sciences Corporation '^1. iV «v \ \ ^< Q>- I B ! T 356 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE position was evidently suggestive, for Buttercup immediately began to gesticulate and clasp her hands as if talking very earnestly to the dog. " I verily believe," said Shank, " that the blacking- ball is re-enacting the scene with Kover ! See ! she grasps his paw, and " " My friend," said Charlie, " we are taking mean advantage again ! And, behold ! like the olher pair, they are flitting from the scene, though not quite in the same fashion." This was true, for Buttercup, reflecting, probably, that she might be missed in the kitchen, had suddenly tumbled Eover off the tree and darted swiftly from the spot. " Come now. Shank," said Charlie, resuming the thread of discourse which had been interrupted, " it is quite plain to iJick and to myself that you are unfit to travel home in your present state of health, so I have made up my mind to leave you here in the care of honest Jackson and Darvall, and to go home myself to make inquiries and search for your father. Will this make your mind easy ? For that is essential to your recovery at the present time." "You were always kind and self-sacrificing, Charlie. Assuredly, your going will take an enormous \, ^ight off my mind, for you are much better fitted by nature for such a search than I am — to say nothing of health. Thank you, my dear old boy, a OF THE SEA AND THE EOCKIES. 357 thousand times. As for Dick Darvall," added Shank, with a laugh, " before this evening I would have doubted whether he would be willing to remain with me after your departure, but I have no doubt now— considering what we have just witnessed ! " "Yes, he has found 'metal more attractive,'" said Charlie, rising. "I will now go and consult with him, after which I will depart without delay." "You've been having a gallop, to judge from your heightened colour and flashing eyes," said Charlie to Dick when they met in the yard, half- an-hour later. "ISr— no— not exactly," returned the seaman, with a slightly embarrassed air. "The fact is I've bin cruisin' about in the bush." " What ! lookin' for Eedskins ? " " IST— no ; not exactly, but " "Oh: I see. Out huutin', I suppose. After deer — eh ? " "Well, now, that was a pretty fair guess, Charlie," said Dick, laughing. " To tell ye the plain truth, I have been out arter a dear— full sail-— an' " " And you bagged it, of course. Fairly run it down, I suppose." said his friend, again interrupting. "Well, there ain't no 'of course' about it, but as it happened, I did manage to overhaul her, and coming to close quarters, I " 358 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE III l!f.. "Yes, yes, / know," interrupted Charlie a third time, with provoking coolness. *' You ran her on to the rocks, Dick — which was unseamanlike in the extreme — at least you ran the dear aground on a fallen tree and, sitting down beside it, asked it to become Mrs. Darvall, and the amiable creature agreed, eh ? " "Why, how on earth did 'ee come for to know that ? " asked Dick, in blazing astonishment. " Weil, you know, there 's no great mystery about it. If a bold sailor loill go huntin' close to the house, and run down his game right in front of Mr. Shank's windows, he must expect to have witnesses. However, give me your flipper, mess- mate, and let me congratulate yoLi, for in my opinion there 's not such another dear on all the slopes of the Eocky Mountains. But now that I 've found you, I want to lay some of my future plans before you." They had not been discussing these plans many minutes, when Mary was seen crossing the yard in company with Hunky Ben. "If Hunky would only stop, we'd keep quite jolly till you return," observed Dick, in an under- tone as the two approached. "We were just talking of you, Ben," observed Charlie, as they came up. " Are you goin' for a cruise, Miss Mary ? " asked the seaman in a manner that drew the scout's attention. OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 359 " No," replied Mary with a little laugh, and any- thing but a little blush, that intensified the attention of the scout. He gave one of his quiet but quick glances at Dick and chuckled softly. " So soon ! " he murmured to himself ; " sartinly your sea-dog is pretty slick at such matters." Dick thought he heard the chuckle and turned a lightning glance on the scout, but that sturdy son of the forest had his leathern countenance turned towards the sky with profoundest gravity. It was characteristic of him, you see, to note the signs of the weather. "Mr. Brooke," he said, with the slow deliberate air of the man who forms his opinions on solid grounds, "there's goin' to be a bu'st up o' the ele- ments afore long, as sure as my name 's Hunky." " That 's the very thing I want to talk about with ycu, Ben, for I meditate a long journey immediately. Come, walk with me." Taking the scout's arm he paced with him slowly up and down the yard, while Dick and Mary went off on a cruise elsewhere. W Li; -jM 360 CIIAULIF. TO TIIK llESCUE : A. TALE i il ' i H 'II J •! lir :' 'I. ' ^ I ■ i 1 J ; 1 ."i 1 ; . " -Mi 1 i . .: 1 ! V i #V- - 4 J£ I 1 ^^■Hj^^^ 1 ^^^^^^^^^IflkLi ''i ij I^^^^^H^^B ' I CHAPTEE XXX. CHANGES THE SCENE SOMEWHAT VIOLENTLY, AND SHOWS OUR HERO IN A NEW LIGHT. The result of our hero's consultation with the scout was not quite as satisfactory as it might have been. Charlie had hoped that Hunky Ben would have been able to stay with Shank till he should return from the old country, but found, to his regret, that that worthy was engaged to conduct still further into the great western wilderness a party of emigrants who wished to escape the evils of civilisation, and to set up a community of their own which should be founded on righteousness, justice, and temperance. "You see, sir," said the scout, "I've gi'n them my promise to guide them whenever they 're ready to start, so, as they may git ready and call for my services at any moment, I must hold myself free o' other engagements. To say truth, even if they hadn't my promise I'd keep myself free to help 'em, for I 've a likin' for the good man — half doctor, half parson as well as Jack-of-all-trades — as has set the thing agoin'— moreover, I've a strong belief that OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 361 all this fightin', an' scalpiii', an' flayiii' alive, an' roastin', an' revenge, ain't the way to bring about good ends either among Eed men or white." " I agree with you heartily, Ben, though I don't very well see how we are to alter it. However, we must leave the discussion of that difficulty to another time. The question at present is, what hope is there of your staying here even for a short time after I leave ? for in Dick Darvall's present condition of mind he is not much to be depended on, and Jackson is too busy. You see, I want Shank to go out on horseback as much as possible, but in this unsettled region and time he would not be safe except in the care of some one who knew the country and its habits, and who had some sort of sympathy with a broken-down man." " All I can say, Mr. Brooke, is that I '11 stay wi' your friend as long as I can," returned the scout, " an' when I 'm obleeged to make tracks for the west, I '11 try to git another man to take my place. Any- how, I think that Mr. Eeeves— that 's the name o' the good man as wants me an' is boss o' the emi- grants—won't be Pble to git them all ready to start for some weeks yet." Charlie was obliged to content himself with this arrangement. Next day he was galloping east- ward—convoyed part of the way by the scout on Black Polly and Dick Darvall on Wheelbarrow. Soon he got into the region of railways and steam- t "r III 362 CIIAIILIE TO TIIK llESCUE : A TALE ill' II'! boats, and, in a few weeks more was once again in Old Endand. A post-card announced his arrival, for Charlie had learned wisdom from experience, and feared to take any one " by surprise " — especially his mother. We need not describe thi.' second meeting of our hero with his kindred and friends. In many respects it resembled the former, when the bad news about Shank came, and there was the same conclave in Mrs. Leather's parlour, for old Jacob Crossley happened to be spending a holiday in Sealford at the time. Indeed he had latterly taken to spending much of his leisure time at that celebrated watering-place, owing, it was supposed, to the beneficial effect which the sea-air liad on his rheumatism. But May Leatlier knew better. With that dis- criminating penetration which would seem to be the natural accompaniment of youth and beauty, she discerned that the old gentleman's motive for going so frequently 1.0 Sealford was a compound motive. First, Mr. Crossley was getting tired of old bachelorhood, and had at last begun to enjoy ladies' society, especially that of such ladies as Mrs. Leather and Mrs. Brooke, to say nothing of May herself and Miss Molloy — the worsted reservoir — who had come to reside permanently in the town and who had got the " Blackguard Boy " into blue tights and buttons, to the amazement and confusion of the OP TIII5 SEA AND THE KOCKIES. 363 little dog Scraggy, whose mind was weakened in consequence — so they said. Second, Mr. Crossley was remarkably fond of Captain Stride, whom he abused like a pick-pocket and stuck to like a brother, besides playing backgammon with him nightly, to the great satisfaction of the Captain's " missus " and their "little Mag." Third, Mr. Crossley had no occasion to attend to business, because business, somehow, attended to itself, and poured its profits perennially into the old gentleman's pocket — a pocket which was never full, because it had a charitable hole in it somewhere which let the cash run out as fast as it ran in. Fourth and last, but not least, Mr. Crossley found considerable relief in getting away occasionally from his worthy house- keeper Mrs. Bland. This relief, which he styled "letting off the steam " at one time, "brushing away the COD webs " at another, was invariably followed by a fit of amiability, which resulted in a penitent spirit, and ultimately took him back to town where he remained till Mrs. Bland had again piled enough of eccentricity on the safety valve to render another letting off of steam on the sea-shore imperative. What Charlie learned at the meeting held in reference to the disappearance of old Mr. Isaac Leather was not satisfactory. The wretched man had so muddled his brain by constant tippling that it had become a question at last whether he was quite responsible for his actions. In a fit of ( i ! !.' i .' ^i. lijii 11 : 364 CIIAULIE TO TIIK UESCUE : X TALK ' ! i !l remorse, after an attack of delirium tremens, he had suddenly condemned himself as being a mean con- temptible burden on his poor wife and daughter. Of course both wife and daiigliter asserted that his mere maintenance was no burden on them at all — as in truth it was not when compared with the intolerable weight of his intemperance — and they did their best to soothe him. But the idea seemed to have taken firm hold of him, and preyed upon liis mind, until at last he left home one morning in a fit of despair, and had not since been heard of. " Have you no idea, then, where he has gone ? " asked Charlie. "No, none," said Mrs. Leather, with a tear trembling in her eye. " We know, mother," said May, " that he has gone to London. The booking clerk at the station, you know, told us that." "Did the clerk say to what part of London he booked?" " No, he could not remember." " Besides, if he had remembered, that would be but a slight clew," said Mr. Crossley. " As well look for a needle in a bundle of hay as for a man in London." " As well go to sea without rudder or compass," observed Captain Stride. " Nevertheless," said Charlie, rising, " I will make the attempt." , he had all con- [lughter. that hia at all — dth the ud they seemed 3d upon rning in ■dof. gone a tear has gone .ion, you ndon he vould be well look , man in lompass," vill make OF THE SEA AND TIIK ROCKIES. 3G5 "Hopeless," said Crossley. "Sheer madness," added Stride. Mrs. Leather sliook her head ond wept gently. Mrs. Brooke sighed and cast down her eyes. Miss Molloy— who was of the council, being by that time cognisant of all the family secrets— clasped her hands and looked miserable. Of all that conclave the only one who did not throw cold water on our hero was pretty little brown-eyed May. She cast on him a look of trusting gratitude which blew a long smouldering spark into such a ilame that the waters of Niagara in winter would have failed to quench it. " I can't tell you yet, friends, what I intend to do," said Charlie. "All I can say is that I'm off to London. I shall probably be away some time, but will write to mother occasionally. So good-bye." He said a good doal more, of course, but that was the gist of it. May accompanied him to the dof//, "Oh! thank yow—thanh you!" she said, with trembling lip and tearful eyes as she held out her hand, " I feel sure that you will find father." " I think I shall. May. Indeed I also feel sure that I shall— God helping me." At the ticket office he found that the clerk remembered very little. He knew the old gentle- man well by sight; indeed, but was in the habit of selling tickets to so many people that it was U:k 366 CIIAIJLTE TO THE RESCUE: A TALE 11 i I! impossible for him to remember where they booked to. In fact the only thing that had fixed Mr. Leather at all in his memory was the fact that the old man had dropped his ticket, had no money to take another, and had pleaded earnestly to let him have one on triiJit, a rei est with which he dared not comply — but fortunately, a porter found and restored the ticket. "Is the porter you refer to still here?" asked Charlie. Yes, he was there ; and Charlie soon found him. The porter recollected the incident perfectly, for the old gentleman, he said, had made a considerable fuss about the lost ticket. "And you can't remember the station he went to?" " No, sir, but I do remember something about his saying he wanted to go to Whitechapel — I think it was — or "Whitehall, I forget which, but I 'm sure it was white something." With this very slender clew Charlie Brooke presented himself in due time at Scotland Yard, at which fountain-head of London policedom he gave a graphic account of the missing man and the circum- stances attending his disappearance. Thence he went to the headquarters of the London City Mission ; introduced himself to a sympathetic secretary there, and was soon put in communication with one of the most intellifrcnt of those valuable OF Till!: SKA AND IIIK llOCKIES. 3G7 lOokcd 1 Mr. at the uey to et liim ! dared [id and ' asked nd liim. ', for the jiderable lie went about his [ think it m sure it e Brooke Yard, at he gave a le circum- :hence he idon City ^uipathetic nunication le valuable self-sacrificing and devoted men who may be styled the salt of the London slrnis. Tliis good man's district embraced part of Wiiitechapel. " I will help you to the extent of my power, Mr. Brooke," he said, " but your quest will be a diOlcult one, perhaps dangerous. How do you ])iopose to go about it ? " " By visiting all tlie low lodging-houses in Wiiite- chapel first," said Charlie. "That will take a long time," said the City Missionary, smiling. " Low lodging-houses are some- what numerous in these parts." " I am aware of that, Mr. Stansfield, and mean to take time," returned our hero promptly. "And what I want of you is to take me into one or two of them, so that I may see something of them while under your guidance. After that I will get their streets and numbers from you, or through you, and will then visit them by myself." "But, excuse me, my friend," returned the mis-^-ionary, "your appearance in such places will attract more attention than you might wish, and would interfere with your investigations, besides exposing you to danger, for the very worst charac- ters in London rre sometimes to be found in such places. Only men of the police force and we city missionaries can go among them with impunity." "I have counted the cost, Mr. Stansfield, and intend to run the risk ; but thank you, all the same, ti ; • I 368 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE: A TALE I ' I Hi- for your well-meant warning. Can you go round one or two this afternoon ? " . " I can, with pleasure, and will provide you with as many lodging-house addresses as I can procure. Do you live far from this ? " " No, quite close. A gentlem.an who was in your Secretary's office when I called recommended a small lodging-house kept by a Mrs. Butt in the neighbourhood of Flower and Dean Street. You know that region well, I suppose ? " " Ay — intimately ; and I know Mrs. Butt too — a very respectable woman. Come, then, let us start on our mission." Accordingly Mr. Stansfield introduced his inex- perienced friend into two of the principal lodging- houses in that neighbourhood. They merely passed through them, and the missionary, besides comment- ing on all that they saw, told his new friend where and what to pay for a night's lodging. He also explained the few rules that were connected with those sinks into which the dregs of the metropolitan human family ultimately settle. Then he accom- panied Charlie to the door of his new lodging and bade him good-night. It was a dingy little room in which our hero found himself, having an empty and rusty fire-grate on one side and a window on the other, from which there was visible a landscape of paved court. The foreground of the landscape was a pump, the middle OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 369 witli icure. lyour ded a Lti the You too — a as start is inex- lodging- y passed oiiunent- d wliere He also ted with I'opolitan e accom- lains aud our hero fire-grate roiu which lourt. The 1 the middle distance a wash-tub, and the background a brick wall, about ten feet distant and fifteen feet high. There was no sky to the landscape, by reason of the next house. The furniture was in keeping with the view. Observing a small sofa of the last century on its last legs in a corner, Charlie sat down on it and rose again instantly, owing apparently to rheumatic complaints from its legs. "La! sir," said the landlady, who had followed him into the room, "you don't need to fear any- think. That sofar, sir, 'as bin in my family for three generations. The frame was renoo'd before I was born, an' the legs I 'ad taken off an* noo ones putt on about fifteen year ago last Easter as over was. INIy last lodger ee went through the bottom of it, w'ich obliged me to 'ave that renoo'd, so it's stronger than ever it were. If you only keep it well shoved up agin the wall, sir, it'll stand a'most any weight — only it won't stand jumpin' on. You mustn't jump on it, sir, with your feet !" Charlie promised solemnly that he would not jump on it either with his feet tr head, and then asked if he could have tea and a fire. On being in- formed that he could have both, he drew out his purse and said — " Now, Mrs. Butt, I expect to stay here for two or three weeks — perhaps longer. My name is Brooke. I was advised to come here by a gentleman in the 2 A ti.' I 370 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE: A TALE m :^^» offices of the City Mission. I shall have no visitors — being utterly unknown in this neighbourhood — except, perhaps, the missionary who parted from me at the door " "Mr. Stansfield, sir?" said the landlady. " Yes. You know him ? " " I 've knowed 'im for years, sir. I shall only be too pleased to 'ave any friend of 'is in my 'ouse, I assure you." "That's well. Now, Mrs. Butt, my motive in coming here is to discover a runaway relation " " La ! sir— a little boy ? " " No, Mrs. Butt, a " " Surely not a little g2irl, sir," said the landlady, with a sympathetic expression. " It is of no consequence what or who the run- away relation is, Mrs. Butt ; I merely mention the fact in order that you may understand the reason of any little eccentricity you may notice in my con- duct, and not perplex your mind about it. For instance, I shall have no regular hours — may be out late or early — it may be even all night. You will give me a pass-key, an'l I will let myself in. The only thing I will probably ask for will be a cup of tea or coffee. Pray let me have one about an hour hence. I 'm going out at present. Here is a week's rent in advance." " Shall I put on a fire, sir ? " asked Mrs. Butt. "Well, yes — you may." OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 371 " Toast, sir ? " "Yes, yes," said Charlie, opening the outer door. "'Ot or cold, sir?" "'Ot, and hutterccir cried Charlie, with a laugh, as he shut the door after him and rendered further communication impossible. Wending his way through the poor streets in the midst of which his lodging was situa:;ed, our hero at last found an old-clothes store, which he entered. "I want a suit of old clothes," he said to the owner, a Jew, who came forward. The Jew smiled, spread out his hands after the manner of a Frenchman, and said, " My shop, sir, is at your disposal." After careful inspection Charlie selected a fustian coat of extremely ragged appearance, with trousers to match, also a sealskin vest of a mangy complexion, likewise a soiled and battered billycock hf,t, so shockingly bad that it was difficult to imagine it to have ever had better days at all. " Are thrj' clean ? " he asked. "Bin baked and fumigated, sir," answered the Jew solemnly. As the look and smell of the garments gave some countenance to the truth of this statement, Charlie paid the price demanded, had them wrapped up in a green cotton handkerchief, and carried them off. Arrived at his lodging he let himseF in, entered 1 ^11 m C„mlKTOTURKK.C.E•.^T^« 3T2 ««^'^'-"- , . ^^^„,, Then , ttaew the bundle in a curucT. Ilia room, and Uirew he rang for tea. ^^^^^ ti„e. but a It «as gro^vlng aark j ^ ^^^^ ^,^4 a "cheery fire in the grate U= ^^^^ yellow-white hrightly, casting a rich glow ^^^,^^^_ ^„, table-cloth, which ^^^^^.^ ^^,m contras creating a ^-^-^ f ^3 .vhich had assayed to the sensation of dreari ^^^^ ^^ him on his first entvan ^ ^^ ^,^, , ,,,,. pUced a P-f^S'^Cs sugar-bo.l.acreani-3ug hrown teapot, a thick ,,„ttered toast that to match, and a Pf « J^^^^y.our hero thought ^ , IlsLn, besides ^^^J^^^^^iow,' " he mused, as ., . One wants but little here _^ ^^ ^^^^^ ^^ he glanced round the ^V^'^'''^ ^, eyes wandered to the ancient sota, ^-^«^"°^r■vTfo^nd•im,.i." said Mi-s. Butt .. I 'ope you ve anxiously, as she was about to ..Found who? _ . ^ ^^ boy-I laean ..Your relation, sir, the g'i'^1-" , 1 npithet the boy nor the girl," ^ ° .. No, I have found neither ^^ ^^^^,^ ^^^_^ ^^^^^ veturned the lodger sliavply- to look for them yet. i: OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 373 er. Then ,ect, ai^^ ^ little rooni spread, and yful contrast had assailed ^,s. Butt bad v/itli a da^'^^' ^1 a cxeam-j^g .,ed toast that ,,, hero tliougi^t ^l,at ^^ealtli was ,"'heninsed,as |butbe^vantsit •, eyes v;andered ^viously eigl^teen I, 3,id Mrs. l^^^tt Lre. tie l^oy- j[ mean „ toy «or Ae girl " Laveu't even l^egun " Oh ! beg pardiiig, sir, I didn't know there was tivo of 'em." " Neither are there. There 's only one. Fetch me some hot water, Mrs. Butt, your tea is too good. I never take it strong." The landlady retired, and, on returning with the water, found her lodger so deep in a newspaper that she did not venture to interrupt him. Tea over, Charlie locked his door and clothed himself in his late purchase, which fitted him fairly well, considering that he had measured it only by eye. Putting on the billycock, and tying the green cotton kerchief loosely round his neck to hide his shirt, he stepped in front of the looking-glass above the mantelpiece. At sight of himself he was prepared to be amused, but he had not expected to be shocked ! Yet shocked he certainlv was, for the transforma- tion was so complete that it suddenly revealed to him something of the depth of degradation to which he might fall — to which many a man as good as himself, if not better, liad fallen. Then amusement rose within him, for he was the very beau-ideal of a typical burglar, or a prize-fighter: big, square- shouldered, deep-chested, large-chinned. The only parts that did not quite correspond to the type were his straight, well-formed nose and his clear blue eyes, but these defects were put right by slightly drooping his eyelids, pusliing his billycock a little back on : l! it IF" :'!! m."^ 374 CHARLIE TO Til HI RESCUE : A TALE bis head, and drawing a lock of hair in a drunken fashion over his forehead. Suddenly an idea occurred to him. Slipping his latchkey into his pocket he went out of the house and closed the door softly. Then he rang the bell. " Is the gen'leman at 'ome ? " he asked of Mrs. Butt, in a gruff, hoarse voice, as if still engaged in a struggle with a bad cold. " What gentleman ? " asked Mrs. Butt, eyeing him suspiciously. " Wy, the gen'leman as sent for me to give 'im boxin' lessons — Buck or Book, or some sitch name." "Brooke, you mean," said Mrs. Butt, still sus- picious, and interposing her solid person in the doorway. "Ay, that's the cove — the gen'leman I mean came here this arternoon to lodge wi' a Missis Butt or Brute, or suthin' o' that sort — air you Mrs. Brute?" " Certainly not," answered the landlady, with indignation ; " but I 'm Mrs. Butt." " Well, it 's all the same. I ax yer parding for the mistake, but there 's sitch a mixin' up o' Brutes an' Brookes, an' Butts an' Bucks, that it comes hard o' a man o' no edication to speak of to take it all in. Tliis gen'leman, Mr. Brute, 'e said if 'e was hout w'en I called I was to wait, an' say you was to make tea for two, an' 'ave it laid in the bedroom as 'e'd require the parlour tor the mill." OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 375 runken ling his e house le bell, of Mrs. ged in a iing him give 'im h name." still siis- 1 in the I mean 5sis Butt ^ou Mrs. dy, with Irding for )' Brutes Imes hard it all in. trvas hout i\ was to idroom as The man's evident knowledge of her lodger's affairs, and his gross stupidity, disarmed Mrs. Butt. She would have laughed at his last speech if it had not been for the astounding conclusion. Tea in the bedroom and a mill in the parlour the first night was a degree of eccentricity she had not even con- ceived of, "Come in, then, young man," she said, making way. "You'll find Mr. Brooke in the parlour at liis tea." The prize-fighter stepped quickly along the dark passage into the parlour, and while the somewhat sluggish Mrs. Butt was closing the door she over- heard her lodger exclaim — " Ha ! Jem Mace, this is good of you — very good of you — to come so promptly. Mrs. Butt," shouting at the parlour door, " another cup and plate for Mr. Mace, and — and bring the ham / " " The 'am ! " repeated Mrs. Butt softly to herself, as she gazed in perplexity round her little kitchen, " did 'e order a 'am ? " Unable to solve the riddle she gave it up and carried in the cup and saucer and plate. " I beg your parding, sir, you mentioned a 'am," she began, but stopped abruptly on seeing no one there but the prize-fighter standing before the fire in a free-and-easy manner with his hands in his breeches pockets. The light of the street-lamps had very imperfectly it K, I »'■ l\ Mr If 376 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE: A TALE revealed the person of Jem Mace. Now that Mrs. Butt saw him slouching in all his native hideousness against her mantelpiece in the full blaze of a par- affin lamp, she inwardly congratulated herself that Mr. Brooke was such a big strong man — almost a match, she thought, for Mace ! " I thought you said the gen'leman was in the parlour, Mrs. Brute ? " said Mace inquiringly. "So 'e — loas," answered the perplexed lady, looking round the room ; "didn't I 'ear 'im a-shakin' 'ands wi' you, an' a-shoutin' for 'am ? " " Well, Mrs. Brute, I dun know what you 'card ; all I know is that I 've not seed 'im yet." " 'E must be in the bedroom," said Mrs. Butt, with a dazed look. " No 'e ain't there," returned the prize-lighter ; " I *ve bin all over it — looked under the bed, into the cupboard, through the key'ole ; — p'r'aps," he added, turning quickly, " 'e may be up the chimbly !" The expression on poor Mrs. Butt's face now alarmed Charlie, who instantly doffed his billycock and resumed his natural voice and manner. "Forgive me, Mrs. Butt, if I have been somewhat reckless," he said, " in testing my disguise on you. I really had no intention till a few minutes ago of playing such a practical " " "Well, well, Mr. Brooke," broke in the amazed yet amiable creature at this point, " I do assure you as I 'd never 'ave know'd you from the worst OF THE SEA AND THE llOCKIES. 377 .t Mrs. Dusuess a par- 3lf that Imost a lU the id lady, i-shakiu' ou 'card ; [rs. Butt, ^e-iighter ; bed, into f'aps," he chimblyl" face now billycock somewhat ise on you. lites ago of the amazed [ do assure 1 the worst character in W'itechapel. I wouldn't have trusted you — not with a sixpence. You was born to be a play-actor, sir! I declare that Jem Mace have given me a turn that But why disguise yourself in this way, Mr. Brooke ? " "Because I am going to haunt the low lodging- houses, Mrs. Butt, and I could not well do that, you know, in the character of a gentleman ; and as you have taken it so amiably I'm glad I tried my hand here first, for it will make me feel much more at ease." " And well it may, sir. I only 'ope it won't get you into trouble, for if the p'lcece go lookin' for a Ijurglar, or murderer, or desprit rufhan, where you 'appen to be, they 're sure to run you in. The only think I would point out, sir, if I may be so free, is that your 'ands an' face is too clean." " That is easily remedied," said Charlie, with a laugh, as he stooped and rubbed his hands a? long the ashes ; tlien, taking a piece of cinder, he made sundry marks on his countenance therewith, which, when judiciously touched in with a little water and some ashes, converted our hero into as thorough a scoundrel as ever walked the streets of London at unseasonable hours of night. it! I s i i p, 378 CFIAULIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE If.-' CHAPTER XXXI. -f-- pfei UUit'. si ili ■;!i failuhe and a new scent. Although our hero's plan of search may seem to some rather Quixotic, there was nothing further from his thoughts than merely playing at the game of amateur detective. Being enthusiastic and sanguine, besides being spurred on by an intense desire to rescue the father of May Leather, Charlie Brooke was thoroughly in earnest in his plan. He knew that it would be useless to attempt such a search and rescue in any other capacity than that of a genuine pauper, at least in appearance and action. He therefore resolved to conduct the search in character, and to plunge at once into the deepest pools of the slums. It is not our intention to carry the reader through the Arabian-night-like adventures which he ex- perienced in his quest. Suffice it to say that he did not find the lost man in the pools in which he fished for him, but he ultimately, after many weeks, found one who led him to the goal he aimed at. Meanwhile there were revealed to him numerous OF TlIK SEA AND THE KOCKIKS. 379 phases of life — or, rather, of living death — in the slums of the great city which caused him many a heartache at the time, and led him ever afterwards to consider with anxious pity the condition of the poor, the so-called lost and lapsed, the depraved, degraded, and unfortunate. Of course he found — as so many had found before him — that the demon Drink was at the bottom of most of the misery he witnessed, but he also learned that whereas many weak and vicious natures datea the commencement of their final descent and fall from the time when they began to drink, many of the strong and fero- cious spirits had begun a life of wickedness in early youth, and only added drink in after years as a little additional fuel to the already roaring flame of sin. It is well known that men of all stamps and creeds and classes are to be found in the low lodging- houses of all great cities. At first Charlie did not take note of this, being too earnestly engaged in the search for his friend, and anxious to avoid drawing attention on himself ; but as he grew familiar with these scenes of misery and destitution he gradually began to be interested in the affairs of other people, and, as he was eminently sympathetic, he became the confidant of several paupers, young and old. A few tried to draw him out, but he quietly checked their curiosity without giving offence. It may be remarked here that he at once dropped If rrrsa I; 1 380 CHAULIK TO TllK ItKSCUE : A TALK U i " h 11 « the style of talk which he had adopted when repre- senting Jem Mace, because he found so many in the lodging-houses who had fallen from a good position in society that grammatical language was by no means singular. His size and strength also saved him from much annoyance, for the roughs, who might otherwise have bullied him, felt that it would be wise to leave him alone. On one occasion, however, his pacific principles were severely tested as well as his manhood, and as this led to important results we must recount the incident. There was a little lame, elderly man, who was a habitual visitor at one of the houses which our hero frequented. He was a humorous character, who made light of his troubles, and was a general favourite. Charlie had felt interested in the man, and in ordinary circumstances would have inquired into his history, but, as we have said, he laid some restraint on his natural tendency to inquire and sympathise. As it was, however, he showed his goodwill by many little acts of kindness — such as making way for Zuok — so he was called — when he wanted to get to the general fire to boil his tea or coffee ; giving him a portion of his own food on the half pretence that he had eaten as much as he wanted, etc. There was another hdbitvA of the same lodging, named Stoker, whose temperament was the very i OF THE SEA AND THE UOCKIES. 381 I repve- lany in a good age was rth also roughs, t that it rinciples ood, and ount the lio was a our hero pter, who general he man, inquired aid some uire and owed his —such as when he lis tea or od on the ch as he e lodging, the very opposite to that of little Zook. Ho was a huge, burly dock labourer; an ex-prize-fighter and a disturber of the peace wlierever he went. Between Stoker and Zook there was nothing in common save their poverty, and the former had taken a strong dishke to tlie latter, presumal)ly on the ground of Zook's superiority in everything except bulk of frame. Charlie had come into slight collision with Stoker on Zook's account more than once, and had tried to make peace between them, but Stoker was essentially a bully ; he would listen to no advice, and had more than once told the would-be peace- Huiker to mind his own business. One evening, towards the close of our hero's search among the lodging-houses, little Zook enteied the kitclien of the establishment, tea-pot and pen\y loaf in hand. Ho hastened towards the roaring lire that might have roasted a whole sheep, and which served to warm the entire basement story, or kitchen, of the tenement. "Here, Zook," said Charlie, as the former passed the table at which he was seated taking his supper, " I 've bought more than I can eat, as usual ! 1 've got two red-herrings and can eat only one. Will you help me ? " "It's all fish that comes to my net, Charlie," said the little man, skipping towards his friend, and accepting the herring with a grateful but exaggerated bow. til I' f — III / ! H~- 382 CIIAULIE TO THE RESCUE : A TAT-E We omitted to say that our hero passed among the paupers by his Christian name, which he had given as being, from its very universality, the best possible alias. A few minutes later Stoker entered and went to the fire, where loud, angry voices soon told that the bully wab at his old game of peace-disturber. Presently a cry of " shame " was heard, and poor Zook was seen lying on the floor with his nose bleeding. " Who cried shame ?" demanded the bully, looking fiercely round. " / did not," said Charlie Brooke, striding towards him, " for I did not know it was you who knocked him down, but I do cry shame on you now, for striking a man so much smaller than yourself, and without provocation, I warrant." " An' pray who are you ? " returned Stoker, in a tone that was meant to be witheringly sarcastic. "I am one who likes fair play," said Charlio, restraining his anger, for he was still anxious to throw oil on the troubled waters, " and if you call it fair play for a heavy-weight like you to attack such a light-weight as Zook, you must have for- gotten somehow that you are an Englishman. Come, now. Stoker, say to Zook you are sorry and won't worry him any more, and I'm sure he'll forgive you ! " " Hear ! hear ! " cried several of the on-lookers. " Perhaps I may forgive 'im," said Zook, with a OF THE SEA AND THE 150CKIES. 383 , among he bad the best [ went to tohl that disturber, poor Zook )leeding. [y, looking ig towards knocked 1 now, for 3urself, and toker, in a ircastic. lid Charlie, anxious to if you call )Vi to attack t have fcr- Enghshman. re sorry and 1 sure he'll I)n-lookers. Zook, with a humorous leer, as he wiped his bleeding nose — "I'd do a'most anything to please Charlie ! " This was received with a general laugh, but Stoker did not laugh ; he turned on our hero with a look of mingled pity and contempt. " No, Mister Charlie," he said, " I won't say I 'm sorry, because I 'd tell a big lie if I did, and I '11 worry him just as much as I please. But I'll tell 'e what I '11 do. If you show yourself as ready wi' your bunches o' fives as you are wi' yer tongue, and agree to fight me, I '11 say to Zook that I 'm sorry and won't worry 'im any more." There was dead silence for a minute after the delivery of this challenge, and much curiosity was exhibited as to how it would be taken. Charlie cast down his eyes in perplexity. Like many big and strong men he was averse to use his superior physi- cal powers in fighting. Besides this, he had been trained by his mother to regard it as more noble to suffer than to avenge insults, and there is no doubt tha*^ if the bully's insult had affected only himseli" he would have avoided him, if possible, rather than come into conflict. Having been trained, also, to let Scripture furnish him with rules for action, his mind irresistibly recalled the turning of the " other cheek " to the smiter, but the fact that he was at that moment acting in defence of another, not of him- self, prevented that from relieving him. Suddenly — like the lightning flash — there arose to him the 'M 1 ll ! i ! 1 ( 1 ; 1 1 }• ill 1 1 \i 1 ll 1 1 ' i,: 'hi i I i III Mil h ! 384 CHAKLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE words, "Smite a scorner and the simple will beware" ! Indeed, all that we have mentioned, and much more, passed through his troubled brain with the speed of light. Lifting his eyes calmly to the face of his opponent he said — " I accept your challenge." " No, no, Charlie ! " cried the alarmed Zook, in a remonstrative tone, " you '11 do nothing of the sort. The man 's a old prize-fighter ! You haven't a chance. Why, I'll fight him myself rather than let you do it." And with that the little man began to square up and twirl his fists and skip about in front of the bully in spite of his lameness — but took good care to keep v^ell out of his reach. " It 's a bargain, then," said Charlie, holding out his hand. " Done ! " answered the bully, grasping it. " Well, then, the sooner we settle this business the better," continued Charlie. " Where shall it come off ? " " Prize-fightin 's agin the law," suggested an old pauper, who seemed to fear they were about to set to in the kitchen. "So it is, old man," said Charlie, "and I would be the last to engage in such a thing, but this i.s not a prize-fight, for there's no prize. It's simply a fight in defence of weakness against brute strengtli and tyranny." OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 385 eware" ! sh more, speed of e of his )ok, in a the sort. laven't a Aier than ;quare up nt of the good care )ldin" out business shall it ed an old out to set I I would this U not simply a streiigth There were only a few of the usual inhabitants of the kitchen present at the time, for it was yet early in the evening. This was lucky, as it permitted of the fight being gone about quietly. In the upper part of the building there was an empty room of considerable size which had been used as a furniture store, and happened at that time to have been cleared out with the view of adding it to the lodging. There, it was arranged, the event should come off, and to this apartment proceeded all the inhabitants of the kitchen who were interested in the matter. A good many, however, remained behind — some because they did not like fights, some because they did not believe that the parties were in earnest, others because they were too much taken up with and oppressed by their own sorrows, and a few because, being what is called fuddled, they did not understand or care anything about the matter at all. Thus it came to pass that all the proceedings were quiet and orderly, and there was no fear of interruption by the police. Arrived at the scene of action, a ring was formed by the spectators standing round the walls, which they did in a single row, for there was plenty of room. Then Stoker strode into the middle of the room, pulled off his coat, vest, and shirt, which he flung into a corner, and stood up, stripped to the waist, like a genuine performer in the ring. Charlie also threw off coat and vest, but retained his shirt — 2b ill > 1} ' 386 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE lit ! an old striped cotton one in harmony with his other garments. " I 'm not a professional," he said, as he stepped forward; "you've no objection, I suppose, to my keeping on my shirt ? " " None whatever," replied Stoker, with a patron- ising air ; " p'r'aps it may be as well for fear you should kitch co? \" Charlie smiled, and held out his hand — "You see," he said, " that at least I understand the civi- lities of the ring." There was an approving laugh at this as the champions shook hands and stood on guard. "I am quite willing even yet," said Charlie, while in this attitude, " to settle this matter without fighting if you 11 only agree to leave Zook alone in future." This was a clear showing of the white feather in the opinion of Stoker, who replied with a thundering " No ! " and at the same moment made a savage blow at Charlie's face. Our hero was prepared for it. He put his head quickly to one side, let the blow pass, and with his left hand lightly tapped the bridge of his opponent's nose. " Hah ! a hamiiytoor ! " exclaimed the ex-pugilist in some surprise. Charlie said nothing, but replied with the grim smile with which in school-days he had been wont to indicate that he meant mischief. The smile OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 387 1 other itepped to my patron- :ear you l_-« You the civi- Ls as the ■d. e, while in ^it fighting future.'* feather in hundering a savage [t his head [id with his opponent's ex-pugilist th the grim "been wont The smile passed quickly, however, for even at that moment he would gladly have hailed a truce, so deeply did he feel what he conceived to be the degradation of his position — a feeling which neither his disreputable appearance nor his miserahle associates had yet been able to produce. But nothing was further from the intention of Stoker tlian a truce. Savages usually attribute for- bearance to cowardice. War to the knife was in his heart, and he rushed at Charlie with a shower of slogging blows, which were meant to end the fight at once. But they failed to do so. Our hero nimbly evaded the blows, acting entirely on the defensive, and when Stoker at length paused, pant- ing, the hammytoor was standing before him quite cool, and with the grim look intensified. " If you will have it — take it ! " he exclaimed, and shot forth a blow which one of the juvenile by- standers described as a " stinger on the beak ! " The owner of the beak felt it so keenly, that he lost temper and made another savage assault, which was met in much the same way, with this difference, that his opponent delivered several more stingers on the unfortunate beak, which after that would have been more correctly described as a bulb. Again the ex-pugilist paused for breath, and again the " hammytoor " stood up before him smiling more grimly than ever — panting a little, it is true, but quite unscathed about the face, for he had W^ 11 w It! 1 .' ■ i i'l m--^ ^ i h 388 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE guarded it with great care althougli he had received some rather severe body blows. Seeing this, Stoker descended to mean practices, and in his next assault attempted, and with par- tial success, to hit below the belt. This roused a spirit of indignation in Charlie, which gave strength to his arm and vigour to his action. The next time Stoker paused for breath, Charlie — as the juvenile bystander remarked — " went for him," planted a blow under each eye, a third on his forehead, and a fourth on his chest, with such astounding rapidity and force that the man was driven up against the wall with a crash that shook the whole edifice. Stoker dropped and remained still. There were no seconds, no sponges or calling of time at that encounter. It was altogether an informal episode, and when Charlie saw his antagonist drop, he kneeled down beside him with a feeling of anxiety lest he had killed him. "My poor man," he said, "are you much hurt?" " Oh ! you 've no need to fear for me," said Stoker recovering himself a little, and sitting up — " but I throw up the sponge. Stoker's day is over w'en 'e 's knocked out o' time by a hammytoor, and Zook is free to bile 'is pot unmorlested in futur'." " Come, it was worth a fight to bring you to that state of mind, my man," said Charlie, laughing. " Here, two of you, help to take him down and wash OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 389 id received n practices, with par- is roused a ,ve strength e next time the juvenile mted a blow lead, and a ing rapidity » against the edifice. There were ;ime at that :mal episode, 3t drop, he ig of anxiety you much ," said Stoker y up — " but I is over w'en 3or, and Zook tur. ig you to that rlie, laughing, own and wash the blood off him ; and I say, youngster," he added, pulling out his purse and handing a sovereign to the juvenile bystander already mentioned, " go out and buy sausages for the whole company." The boy stared at the coin in his hand in mute surprise, while the rest of the ring looked at each other with various expressions, for Charlie, in the rebound of feeling caused by his opponent's sudden recovery and submission, had totally forgotten his rdle and was ordering the people about like one accustomed to command. As part of the orders were of such a satisfactory nature, the people did not object, and, to the ever- lasting honour of the juvenile bystander who resisted the temptation to bolt with the gold, a splendid supper of pork sausages was smoking on the various tables of the kitchen of that establishment in less than an hour thereafter. When the late hours of night hid arrived, and most of the paupers were asleep in their poor beds, dreaming, perchance, of " better days " when pork sausages were not so tremendous a treat, little Zook went to the table at which Charlie sat. He was staring at a newspaper, but in reahty was think- ing about his vain search, and beginning, if truth must be told, to feel discouraged. "Charlie," said Zook, sitting down beside his champion, « or p'r'aps I should say 3Iister Charlie, the game 's up wi' you, whatever it was." imi 111., 390 CHAKLIB TO THE RESCUE : A TALE !.IMl ij/i 1:.ii " What d' you mean, Zook ? " " Well, I just mean that it 's o' no manner o* use your tryin' to sail any longer under false colours in this here establishment," " I must still ask you to explain yourself," said Charlie, with a puzzled look. " Well, you know," continued the little man, with a deprecatory glance, " w 'en a man in ragged clo'se orders people here about as if 'e was the commander- in-chief o' the British Army, an' flings yellow boys about as if *e was chancellor o' the checkers, an' orders sassengers offhand for all 'ands, 'e may be a gentleman — wery likely 'e is, — but 'e ain't a redooced one, such as slopes into lodgin'-'ouse kitchens. W'atever little game may 'ave brought you 'ere, sir, it ain't poverty — an' nobody will be fool enough in tJds 'ouse to believe it is." "You are right, Zook. I'm sorry I forgot my- self," returned Charlie, with a sigh. " After all, it does not matter much, for I fear my little game — as you call it — was nearly played out, and it does not seem as if I were going to win." Charlie clasped his hands on the table before him, and looked at the newspaper somewhat disconsolately. " It 's bin all along o' takin' up my cause," said the little man, with something like a whimper in his voice. " You 've bin wery kind to me, sir, an' I 'd give a lot, if I 'ad it, an' would go a long way if I warn't lame, to 'elp you." OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 391 nner o use ; colours in rself," said man, with Lgged clo'se ommander- '■ellow boys eckers, an* may be a : a redooced J kitchens, t you 'ere, 'ool enough forgot my- ^fter all, it le game — and it does 3efore him, onsolately. ause," said vhimper in me, sir, an' I long way \ Charlie looked steadily in the honest, pale, care- worn face of his companion for a few seconds with- out speaking. Poverty, it is said, brings together strange bod-fellows. Not less, perhaps, does it lead to unlikely confidants. Under a sudden impulse our hero revealed to poor Zook the cause of his being there — concealing nothing except names. " You '11 'scuse me, sir," said the little man, after the narrative was finished, "but I think you've gone on summat of a wild-goose chase, for your man may never have come so low as to seek shelter in sitch places." " Possibly, Zook ; but he was penniless, and this, or the work-house, seemed to me the natural place to look for him in." " 'Ave you bin to the work-'ouses, sir ? " " Yes — at least to all in this neighbourhood." " What ! in that toggery ? " asked the little man, with a grin. " Not exactly, Zook, I can change my shell like the hermit crabs." " Well, sir, it 's my opinion that you may go on till doomsday on this scent an' find nuthin' ; but there 's a old 'ooman as I knows on that might be able to 'elp you. Mind I don't say she could, but she might. Moreover, if she can she will." "How ? " asked Charlie, somewhat amused by the earnestness of his little friend. " Why, this way, She 's a good old soul who lost Hi \ '^ Pff^' li 1 ji f if )!!' ! I i>^ ' 1 t l 392 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE 'er 'usband an* *er son — if I ain't mistaken — through drink, an' ever since, slie 'as devoted 'erself body an' soul to save men an' women from drink. She attends temperance meetin's an' takes people there — a'most drags 'em in by the scruff o' the neck. She keeps 'er eyes open, like a weasel, an' w'enever she sees a chance o' what she calls pluckin' a brand out o' the fire, she plucks it, without much regard to burnin' 'er fingers. Sometimes she gits one an' another to submit to her treatment, an' then she locks 'em up in 'er 'ouse — though it ain't a big un — an' treats 'em, as she calls it. She's got one there now, it 's my belief, though w'ether it 's a he or a she I can't tell. Now, she may 'ave seen your friend goin' about — if 'e stayed long in Whitechapel." "It may be so," returned our hero wearily, for he was beginning to lose heart, and the prospect opened up to him by Zook did not on the first blush of it seem very brilliant. " When could I see this old woman ? " " First thing to-morror arter breakfast, sir." " Very well ; then you '11 come and breakfast with me at eight ? " " I will, sir, with all the pleasure in life. In this 'ere 'ouse, sir, or in a resterang ? " *' Neither. In my lodgings, Zook." Having given his address to the little man, Charlie bade him good-night and retired to his pauper-bed for the last time. OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 393 —through self body ink. She )ple there the neck. ' w'enever i' a brand eh regard :s one an' then she a big un 3 got one : it 's a he seen your itechapel." earily, for 2 prospect first blush I see this sir." kfast with I. In this m, Charlie 3auper-bed ji CHAPTEE XXXII. SUCCESS AND FUTURK PLANS. Punctual to the minute Zook presented him- self to Mrs. Butt next morning and demanded audience. ^ Mrs. Butt had been forewarned of the impending visit, and, although she confessed to some uncom- fortable feelings in respect of infection and dirt, received him with a gracious air. " You Ve come to breakfast, I understand ? " "Well, I believe I 'ave," answered the little man, with an involuntary glance at his dilapidated clothes ; " 'avin' been inwited— unless," he added, somewhat doubtfully, "the inwite came in a dream." "You may go in and clear up that point for yourself," said the landlady, as she usherea the poor man into the parlour, where he was almost startled to find an amiable gentleman waiting to receive him. " Come along, Zook, I like punctuality. Are you hungry ? " "'Ungry as a 'awk, sir," replied Zook, glancing at 1:, 1 ;;, f|iili«| ili'i|! d 394 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE tho table and rubbing his hands, for there entered his nostrils delicious odours, tho causes of which very seldom entered his throat. " W'y, sir, I knoiv'd you was a gent, from the wery first ! " "I have at least entered my native shell," said Charlie, with a laugh. " Sit down. We 've no time to waste. Now what '11 you have? Coffee, tea, pork-sausage, ham and egg, buttered toast, hot rolls. Just help yourself, and fancy you 're in the lodging-house at your own table." " Well, sir, that luould be a stretch o' fancy that would strain me a'most to the bustin* p'int. Coffee, if you please. Oh yes, sugar an' milk in course. I never let slip a chance as I knows on. W'ich bread ? well, 'ot rolls is temptin', but I allers 'ad a weakness for sappy things, so 'ot buttered toast — if you can spare it." " Spare it, my good man ? " said Charlie, laughing. " There 's a whole loaf in Ihe kitchen and pounds of butter when you've finished this, not to mention the shops round the corner." It was a more gratifying treat to Charlie than he had expected, to see this poor man eat to his heart's content of viands which he so thoroughly appreciated and so rarely enjoyed. What Zook himself felt it is impossible for well-to-do folk to conceive, or an ordinary pen to describe ; but, as he sat there, opposite to his big friend and champion, stowing away the good things with zest and devotion of purpose, it OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 396 :e entered of which r, I hioio'd hell," said We've no ? Coffee, . toast, hot .'re in the fancy that it. Coffee, : in course. on. Wich allers 'ad a red toast — c, laughing. :1 pounds of to mention ie than he his heart's appreciated iself felt it peive, or an jre, opposite g away the purpose, it was easy to believe that his watery eyes were charged with the tears of gratitude as well n,3 with those of a chronic cold to which he was subject. Breakfast over, they started off in quest of the old woman with teetotal proclivities. " How did you come to know her ? " asked Charlie, as they went along. " Through a 'ouse in the city as I was connected with afore I got run over an' lamed. They used to send me with parcels to this old 'ooman. In course I didn't know for sartin' w'at was in the parcels, but 'avin' a nose, you see, an' bein' able to smell, I guessed that it was a compound >>' wittles an' wursted work." " A strange compound, Zook." "Well, they wasn't zactly compounded — they was sometimes the one an' sometimes the other; never mixed to my knowledge." " What house was it that sent you ? " " Withers and Co." "Indeed!" exclaimed Charlie in surprise. "I know the house well. The head of it is a well- known philanthropist. How came you to leave them ? They never would have allowed an old servant to come to your pass — unless, indeed, he was " "A fool, sir, or wuss," interrupted Zook; "an' that's just what I was. I runned away from 'em, sir, an' I 've been ashamed to go back since. But Ii Wf : ;!• '; ii ■1 BV i| iiir. 396 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE that 's 'ow I come to know old Missis Mag, an' it 's down 'ere she lives." They turned into a narrow passage which led to a small court at the back of a mass of miserable buildings, and here they found the residence of the old woman. " By the way, Zook, what 's her name ? " asked Charlie. " Mrs. Mag Samson." " Somehow the name sounds familiar to me," said Charlie, as he knocked at the door. A very small girl opened it and admitted that her missis was at 'ome ; whereupon our hero turned to his companion. " I '11 manage her best without company, Zook," he said ; " so you be off ; and see that you come to my lodging to-night at six to hear the result of my interview and have tea." " I will, sir." "And here, Zook, put that in your pocket, and take a good dinner." " I will, sir." "And — hallo 1 Zook, c ne here. Not a word about all this in the lodging-house ; — stay, now I think of it, don't go to the lodging-house at all. Go to a casual ward where they '11 make you take a good bath. Be sure you give yourself a good scrub. D' ye hear ? " " Yes, sir." ,E OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 397 ag, an' it's tiich led to £ miserable mce of the le?" asked me," said ;ed that her ) turned to any, Zook," m come to e result of pocket, and fot a word itay, now I )use at all. you take a good scrub. He walked away murmuring, "More 'am and hegg an' buttered toast to-night ! Zook, you 're in luck to-day — in clover, my boy ! in clover ! " Meanwhile, Charlie Brooke found himself in the presence of a bright-eyed little old woman, who bade him welcome with the native grace of one who is a born thoagh not a social lady, and beautified by Christianity. Her visitor went at once straight to the point. "Forgive my intrusion, Mrs. Samson," he said, taking the chair to which the old woman pointed, '* but, indeed, I feel assured that you will, when I state that the object of my visit is to ask you to aid in the rescue of a friend from drink." " No man intrudes on me who comes on such an errand ; but how does it happen, sir, that you think / am able to aid you ? " To this Charlie replied by giving her an account of his meeting and conversation with Zook, and followed that up with a full explanation of his recent efforts and a graphic description of Isaac Leather. The old woman listened attentively, and, as her visitor proceeded, with increasing interest not un- mingled with surprise and amusement. When he had concluded, Mrs. Samson rose, and, opening a door leading to another room, held up her finger to impose silence, and softly bade him look in. He did so. The room was a very small one, scantily furnished, with a low truckle-bed in one ii If r" 398 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE ! A TALE I ' I corner, and there, on the bed, lay the object of his quest — Isaac Leather ! Charlie had just time to see that the thin pale face was not that of a dead but of c. sleeping man when the old woman gently pulled him back and re-closed the door. " That 's your man, I think." "Yes, that's the man — I thank God for this most astonishing and unlooked-for success." " Ah ! sir," returned the woman, sitting down again, " most of our successes are unlocked for, and when they do come we are not too ready to recog- nise the hand of the Giver." " Xevertheless you must admit that some incidents do seem almost miraculous," said Charlie. " To have found you out in this great city, the very person who had Mr. Leather in her keeping, does seem unaccountable, does it not 1 " " Not so unaccountable as it seems to you," replied the old woman, "and certainly not so much of a miracle as it would have been if you had found him by searching the lodging-houses. Here is the way that God seems to have brought it about. I have for many years been a pensioner of the house of Withers and Co., by whom I was employed until the senior partner made me a sort of female city- missionary amongst the poor. I devoted myself particularly to the reclaiming of drunkards — having special sympathy with them. A friend of mine, Miss Molloy, also employed by the senior partner in OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 399 ect of his ;ime to see ead but of tly pulled d for this ing down sd for, and '■ to recog- e incidents " To have 3ry person does seem m," replied much of a found him is the way t. I have e house of oyed until imale city- ted myself Is — having i of mine, partner in works of charity, happened to be acquainted with Mr. Leather and his family. She knew of his failing, and she found out — for she has a strange power that I never could understand of inducing people to make a confidant of her,— she found out (what no one else knew, it seems) that poor Mr. Leather wished to put himself under some sort of restraint, for he could not resist temptation when it came in his way. Knowing about me, she naturally advised him to put himself in my hands. He objected at first, but agreed at last, on condition that none of his people should be told anything about it. I did not like to receive him on such conditions, but gave in because he would come on no other. Well, sir, you came down here because you had information which led you to think Mr. Leather had come to this part of the city. You met with a runaway servant of Withers and Co.— not very wonderful that. He naturally knows about me and fetches you here. Don't you see ? " "Yes, I see," replied Charlie, with an amused expression; "still I cannot help looking on the whole affair as very wonderful, and I hope that that does not disqualify me from recognising God's leading in the matter." " Nay, young sir," returned the old woman, " that ought rather to qualify you for such recognition, for are not His ways said to be wonderful— ay, some- times 'past finding out' ? But what we know not H m ,i ■ ( 'II ! f 1 {■: 1 1 1 j 4 1 ' 1 '1 1 408 CIIARLIK TO THE RESCUE : A TALE man exclaimed, "Glorious!" Indeed, for a few minutes he sat with glistening eyes and heaving chest, quite unable to give vent to any other senti- ment than "glorious!" This he did at intervals. His interest in *^ "^ scene, however, was distracted by the sudden ./ent of Captain Stride, whose horse — a long-legged roan — had an awkward tendency, among other eccentricities, to advance sideways with a waltzing gait, that greatly discon- certed the mariner. " Woa I you brute. Back your tops'ls, won't you ? I never did see sitch a craft for heavin' about like a Dutch lugger in a cross sea. She sails side on, no matter where she's bound for. Forges ahead a'most entirely ^ means of leeway, so to speak. Hallo 1 woa I ' ha grip o' the painter, Dick, an' hold on till I git off the hurricane deck o' this walrus — else I '11 be overboard in a . There " The captain came to the ground suddenly as he spoke, without the use of stirrup, and, luckily, with- out injury. " Not hurt, I hope ? " asked Dick Darvall, r jsisting his brother-salt to rise. " Not a bit of it, Dick. You see I 'm a'most as active as yourself, though double your age, if not more. I say, Charlie, this is a pretty look-out. Don't 'ee think so, Mr. Crossley ? I was sure that Hunky Ben would find us a pleasant anchorage and safe holding-ground at last, though it did seem 1 OF Tlir<^ SEA AND TIIK ROCKIES. 409 for a few d heaving ,her senti- intervals. distracted de, whose awkward advance tly discon- won't you ? about like ,ils side on, rges ahead to speak, nter, Dick, eck o' this rhere " lenly as he kilv, with- 11, r :sisting ;'m a'most our age, if ;y look-out. ,s sure that ;horage and did seem as if we was pretty long o' coniiii' to it. Just as we was leavin' the waggins to ride on in advance I said to my missus — says I — Maggie, you may depend " "Hallo! Zook," cried Charlie, as the little man of the slums came limping up, "what have you done with your horse ? " " Cast 'im loose, sir, an' gi'n 'im leave of absence as long as 'e pleases. It 's my opinion that some o* the 'osses o' the western prairies ain't quite eekal to some o' the 'osses I 've bin used to in Rotten Eow. Is this the place, Hunky ? Well, now," continued the little man, with flashing eyes, as he looked round on the magnificent scene, " it '11 do. Beats Wite- chapel an' the Parks any'ow. An' there's lots o* poultry about, too ! " he added, as a flock of wild ducks went by on whistling wings. " I say, Hunky Ben, w'at's yon brown things over there by the shores o' the lake ? " " Buffalo," answered the scout. "What! wilduns?" "There's no tame ones in them diggin's as I knows on. If there wac, they 'd soon become wild, you bet." "An' w'at's yon monster crawlin' over the farthest plain, like the great sea-serpent ? " "Why, man," returned the scout, "them's the waggins. Come, now, let 's to work an' git the fire lit. The cart wi' the chuck an' tents '11 be here in ■ 1 f ?!'. i f 1 1 i 410 CHARLIE TO THE llESCUE : A TALE a few minutes, an' the waggins won't be long arter em- " Ay, wi' the women an' kids shoutin' for grub," added Zook, as he limped after the scout, while the rest of the little band dispersed — some to cut fire- wood, others to select the best positions for the tents. The waggons, with a supply of food, arrived soon after under the care o^ Eoaring Bull himself, with two of his cowboys. They were followed by Butter- cup, who bestrode, man-fashion, a mustang nearly as black as herself and even more frisky. , In a wonderfully short time a number of white tents arose on the plateau and several fires blazed, and at all the fires Buttercup laboured with super- human effect, assisted by the cowboys, to the unbounded admiration of Zook, who willingly super- intended everything, but did little or nothing. A flat rock on the highest point was chosen for the site of a future block-house or citadel, and upon this was ere long spread a breakfast on a magnificent scale. It was barely ready when the first waggons arrived and commenced to lumber up the ascent, preceded by two girls on horseback, who waved their hands, and gave vent to vigorous little feminine cheers as they cantered up the slope. These two were our old friends whom we knew as May Leather and Mary Jackson, but who must now be re-introduced to the reader as Mrs. Charlie Brooke and Mrs. Dick Darvall. On the same day OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 4il long arter ' for grub," , while the ;o cut fire- )r the tents, rrived soon mself, with by Butter- ;ang nearly er of white fires blazed, with super- lys, to the ngly super- lothing. A sen for the d upon this magnificent fst waggons the ascent, who waved Irous little slope. ni we knew b who must Irs. Charlie le same day they had changed their names at the Kanch of Bearing Bull, and had come to essay wedded life in the far west. We need hardly say that this was the great ex- perimental emigrant party, led by the Kev. William Keeves, who had resolved to found a colony on total abstinence principles, and with as many as possible of the sins of civilisation left behind. They found, alas ! that sin is not so easily got rid of; nevertheless, the effort was not altogether fruit- less, and Mr. Reeves carried with him a sovereign antidote for sin in the shape of a godly spirit. The party was a large one, for there were many men and women of the frontier whose experiences had taught them that life was happier and better in every way without the prevalent vices of gam- bling and drinking. Of course the emigrants formed rather a motley band. Among them, besides those of our friends already mentioned, there were our hero's mother and all the Leather family. Captain Stride's daughter as well as his " Missus," and Mr. Crossley's housekeeper, Mrs. Bland. That good woman, how- ever, had been much subdued and rendered harmless by the terrors of the wilderness, to which she had been recently exposed. Miss Molloy was also there, with an enormous supply of knitting needles and several bales of worsted. Poor Shank Leather was still so much of an in- rr i:! 412 CHARLIE TO TIIK RESCUE : A TALE valid as to be obliged to travel in a spring cart with his father, but both men were rapidly regaining physical strength under the influence of temperance, and spiritual strength under a higher power. Soon the hammer, axe, and saw began to resound in that lovely western wilderness ; the net to sweep its lakes ; the hook to invade its rivers ; the rifle to crack in the forests, and the plough to open up its virgin soil. In less time, almost, than a European would take to wink, the town of Sweetwater Bluff sprang into being; stores and workshops, a school and a church, grew up like mushrooms ; seed was sown, and everything, in short, was done that is characteristic of the advent of a thriving com- munity. But not a gambling or drinking snloon, or a drop of firewater, was to be found in all the town. In spite of this, Indians brought their furs to it ; trappers came to it for supplies ; emigrants turned aside to see and rest in it; and the place soon became noted as a flourishing and pre-eminently peaceful spot. E OF THE SEA AND THE KOCKIES. 413 g cart with r regaining temperance, sver. I to resound et to sweep the rifle to open up its a European :water Bluff DS, a school 5; seed was me that is iving com- g sf.looR, or ill the town, r furs to it; [•ants turned place soon e-eminently CHAPTER XXXIV. THE LAST. But a little cloud arose ere long on the horizon of Sweetwater Bluff. lusigniflcant at first, it sud- denly spread over the sky and burst in a wild storm. The first intimation of its approach came from Charlie Brooke one quiet autumn evening, in that brief but delightful season known as the Indian Summer. Charlie entered his garden that evening with a fowling-piece on his shoulder, and two brace of prairie hens at his girdle. May was seated at her cottage door, basking in sunshine, chatting with her mother— who was knitting of course— and Shank was conversing with Hunky Ben, who rested after a day of labour. " There, May, is to-morrow's dinner," said Charlie, throwing the birds at his wife's feet, and sitting down beside her. "Who d'you think I passed when I was out on the plains to-day, Hunky? Your old friend Crux the Cowboy." " He 's no friend o' mine," said the scout, while 414 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE something like a frown flitted across his usually placid brow. " I 'm not over pleased to hear that he *s comin', for it 's said that some old uncle or aunt o' his — I forget which — has left him a lot o' dollars. I hope he ain't comin' to spend 'em here, for he'd never git along without gamblin' an' drinkin'." " Then, I can tell you that he is just coming to stay here," returned Charlie, "for he has several waggons with him, and a dozen men. I asked him where he was going to, and he said, to locate him- self as a store-keeper at Sweetwater Bluff; but he did not seem inclined to be communicative, so I left him and galloped on to report the news. What d' you think about it ? " " I think it '11 be a bad day for Sweetwater Bluff when Crux comes to settle in it. Howsoever, this is a free country, an' we've no right to interfere with him so long as he don't break the laws. But I doubt him. I 'm afeard he '11 try to sell drink, an' there's some o' our people who are longin' to git back to that." The other members of the party, and indeed those heads of the town generally who knew Crux, were of much the same opinion, but some of them thought that, being in a free country, no one had a right to interfere. The consequence was that Crux and his men were permitted to go to work. They hired a shed in which to stow their goods, while his usually to hear that )ld uncle or him a lot o' ad 'em here, ;ambliii' an' .st coming to has several I asked him 3 locate him- Bluff; but he tive, so I left ews. What etwater Bluff )WSoever, this b to interfere le laws. But sell drink, an' [ongin' to git , and indeed 10 knew Crux, some of them , no one had a was that Crux ) work. They • goods, while OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 415 they were engaged in building a store, and in course of time this was finished ; but there was a degree of mystery about the ex-cowboy's proceedings which baffled investigation, and people did not like to press inquiry too far ; for it was observed that all the men wlio had accompanied Crux were young and powerful fellows, well armed with rifle and revolver. At last, however, the work was finished, and the mystery was cleared up, for, one fine morning, the new store was opened as a drinking and gambling saloon; and that same evening the place was in full swing— sending forth the shouts, songs, cursing and demoniac laughter for which such places are celebrated. Consternation filled thu hearts of the community, for it was not only the men brought there by Crux who kept up their revels in the new saloon, but a sprinkling of the spirited young fellows of the town also, who had never been very enthusiastic in the temperance cause, and were therefore prepared to fall before the first temptation. At a conference of the chief men of the town it was resolved to try to induce Crux to quit quietly, and for this end to offer to buy up his stock-in-trade.' Hunky Ben, being an old acquaintance, was re- quested to go to the store as a deputation. But the ex-cowboy was inexorable. Neither the offer of morey uor argument had any effect on him. " Well, Crux," said the scout, at the conclusion of i^i !(f 416 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE his visit, "you know your own affairs best, but, rememberin' as I do what you used to be, I thought there was more of fair-play about you." " Fair-play ! What d' ye mean ? " " I mean that when folk let yoio alone, you used to be willin' to let them alone. Here has a crowd o' people come back all this way into the Eockies to escape from the curse o' strong drink and gamblin*, an' here has Crux — a lover o* fair-play — come all this way to shove that curse right under their noses. I 'd thowt better of ye, Crux, lad." "It don't matter much what you thowt o* me, old man," returned the cowboy, somewhat sharply ; " an', as to fair-play, there 's a lot of men here who don't agree wi' your humbuggin' notions about temperance an' tee-totalism — more of 'em, maybe, than you think. These want to have the drink, an' I 've come to give it 'em. I see nothin' unfair in that." Hunky Ben carried his report back to the council, which for some time discussed the situation. As in the case of most councils, there was some difference of opinion : a few of the members being inclined to carry things with a high hand — being urged thereto by Captain Stride — while others, influenced chiefly by Mr. Eeeves, were anxious to try peaceable means. At last a sub-committee was appointed, at Hunky Ben's suggestion, to consider the whole matter, and tak3 what steps seemed advisable. Hunky was an adroit and modest man — he could not have been a first-rate scout otherwise! He managed not only LE :s best, but, le, I thought ne, you used has a crowd the Rockies and gamblin', a,y — come all 3r their noses. thowt o' me, ^hat sharply; aen here who lotions about I 'em, maybe, the drink, an' mf air in that." to the council, lation. As in )me difference ns inclined to ; urged thereto uenced chiefly aceable means, ited, at Hunky )le matter, and Hunky was an t have been a laged not only OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 417 to become convener of the committee, but succeeded in getting men chiefly of his own opinion placed on it. At supper that night in Charlie's cottage, while enjoying May's cookery and presence, and waited on by the amused and interested Buttercup, the sub-committee discussed and settled the plan of operations. "It's all nonsense," said Hunky Ben, "to talk of tryiii' to persuade Crux. He's as obstinate as a Texas mule wi' the toothache." " Rubbish ! " exclaimed Captain Stride, smiting the table with his .fist. " We mustn't parley with him, but heave him overboard at once ! I said so to my missus this very day. 'Maggie,' says I " "And what do //ou think, Charlie?" asked Mr. Crossley. " I think with Hunky Ben, of course. He knows Crux, and what is best to be done in the circumstances. The only thing that perplexes me is what shall we do with the liquor when we 've paid for it ? A lot rf it is good wine and champagne, and although useless as a beverage it is useful .as a medicine, and might be given to hospitals." " Pour it out ! " exclaimed Shank, almost fiercely. " Ay, the hospitals can look out for themselves," added Shank's father warmly. " Some hospitals, I 've bin told, git on well enough without it altogether," said £)ick Darvall. " How- ever, it's a subject that desarves consideration.— 2d mr f ' 418 CHARLIE TO THE IIESGUE : A TALE Hallo ! Buttercup, what is it that tickles your fancy an' makes your mouth stretch out like that ? " Buttercup became preternaturally grave on the instant, but declined to tell what it was tliat tickled her fancy. Shortly after the party rose and left the house, Hunky Ben remarking, with a quiet laugh, that deeds of darkness were best hatched at night. What the conspirators hatched became pretty evident next day, for, during the breakfast hour, a band of forty horsemen rode slowly down the sloping road which led to the plains, and on the side of which Crux had built his saloon. Crux and his men turned out in some surprise to watch the cavalcade as it passed. Tlie band was led by Charlie Brooke, and the scout rode in advance on Black Polly as guide. " Is it the Reds or the Buffalo you 're after to-day, Hunky, with such a big crowd ? " asked Crux. " Halt ! " cried Charlie, at that moment. The forty men obeyed, and, turning suddenly to the left, faced the saloon. " Hands up ! " said Charlie, whose men at the same moment pointed their rifles at Crux and his men. These were all too familiar with the order to dare to disobey it. Our hero then ordered a small detachment of his men to enter the saloon and fetch out all rifles and pistols, and those of Crux's people who chanced to have their weapons about them were disarmed. your fancy lat ? " ave on the hat tickled the house, , that deeds me pretty ast hour, a the slojDing he side of surprise to band was in advance 'ter to-day, irux. iddenly to en at the X and his e order to ent of his rilles and hanced to disarmed. OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 41 9 Another detachment went off to the stables behind the saloon. ^JVhile tl,ey were thus engaged Charlie addressed "We have decided to expel you, Crux, from this towu, he said, as he drew an envelope from his pocket. "^Ye have tried to convince you that as the majonty of the people here don't want yon It IS your duty to go. As you don't seem to see this we now take the law into our own hands We love fair-play, however, so you will find in this envdope a cheque which we have reason to believe >s fully equal to the value of your saloon and all its contents Your lost time and trouble is your own affair As you came without invitation, you n.u.t go without compensation. Here are your rilles, and revolvers emptied of cartridges, and there are your horses saddled." ■' As he spoke, one detacliment of his men handed rifles and revolvers to the party, who were stricken dumb with amazement. At the same time, their horses, saddled and bridled, were led to the front and delivered to tliem. "We have no provisions." said Crux, at last recovering the use of his tongue; "and without ammunition we cannot procure any." " That has been provided for." said our hero turmng to Hunky Ben. "Ay, Crux" said the scout, "we don't want to starve you, though the 'arth wouldn't lose much if I(: ( it H m 420 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE we did. At the other end o' the lake, about five mile from here, you '11 find a red rag flyin' at the branch of a tree. In the hole of a rock close beside it you '11 find three days' provisions for you and your men, an' a lot of ammunition." " Now, mount and go," said Charlie, " and if you ever show face here again, except as friends, your blood be on your own heads ! " Crux did not hesitate. He and his men saw that "the game was up"; without another word they mounted their horses and galloped away. While this scene was being enacted a dark creature, with darker designs, entered the drinking saloon and descended to the cellar. Finding a spirit-cask with a tap in it, Buttercup turned it on, then, pulling a match-box out of her pocket she muttered, " I t'ink de hospitals won't git much ob it!" and applied a light. The effect was more powerful than she had expected. The spirit blazed up with sudden fury, singeing off the girl's eyebrows and lashes, and almost blinding her. In her alarm But- tercup dashed up to the saloon, missed her way, and found herself on the stair leading to the upper floor. A cloud of smoke and fire forced her to rush up. She went to the window and yelled, on observing that it was far too high to leap. She rushed to another window and howled in horror, for escape was apparently impossible. Charlie heard the howl. He and his men had retii'ed to a safe distance when the fire was first ob- OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 421 about five in' at the ose beside ' you and and if you tends, your in saw that word they id a dark le drinking Finding a urned it on, pocket she uuch ob it!" re powerful zed up with ebrows and alarm But- ler way, and upper floor. to rush up. )n observing e rushed to ■, for escape lis men had was first ob- served — thinking the place empty — but the howl touched a chord in our hero's sympathetic breast, which was ever ready to vibrate. From whom the howl proceeded mattered little or nothing to Charlie Brooke. Sufficient that it was the cry of a living being in distress. He sprang at once through the open doorway of the saloon, through which was issuing a volume of thick smoke mingled with flame. " God help him ! the place '11 blow up in a few minutes," cried Hunky Ben, losing, for once, his imperturbable coolness, and rushing wildly after his friend. But at that moment the thick smoke burst into fierce flame and drove him back. Charlie sprang up the staircase three steps at a time, holding his breath to avoid suffocation. He reached the landing, where Buttercup ran, or, rather, fell, almost fainting, into his arms. At the moment an explosion in the cellar shook the building to its foundation, and, shattering one of the windows, caused a draught of air to drive aside the smoke. Charlie gasped a mouthful of air and looked round. Flames were by that time roaring up the only stair- case. A glance from the nearest window showed that a leap thence meant broken limbs, if not death, to both. A ladder up to a trap-door suggested an exit by the roof. It might only lead to a more terrible leap, but meanwhile it offered relief from imminent suffocation. Charlie bore the half-dead girl to the top rung, and found the trap-door pad- locked, but a thrust from his powerful shoulder tf 422 ClfARTJE TO THE RESCUE: A TALE wrenched hasp and padlock from their hold, and next moment a wild cheer greeted him as he stood on a corner of the gable. But a depth of forty or fifty feet was below him with nothing to break his fall to the hard earth. " Jump ! " yelled one of the onlookers. " No, don't ! " cried another, " you '11 be killed." " Hold your noise," roared Hunky Ben, " and lend a hand here — sharp ! — the house '11 blow up in a minute." He ran as he spoke towards a cart which was partly filled with hay. Seizing the trams he raised them. Willing hands helped, and the cart was run violently up against the gable — Hunky shouting to some of the men to fetch more hay. But there was no time for that. Another ex- plosion took place inside the building, which Charlie knew must have driven in the sides of more casks and let loose fresh fuel. A terrible roar, followed by ominous cracking of the roof, warned him that there was no time to lose. He looked steadily at the cart for a moment and leaped His friends held their breath as the pair dc' ended. The hay would not have sufficed to ^ ik the fall sufficiently, but happily the cai e. When they came down on ^ jolt the bottom gave way. Crn-4* ^ throi ^n it the pair came to the ground, heavily inder I, but uninjured ! The fall, which almost stui ed our hero, had the hold, and as he stood of forty or break his :ers. " No, " and lend .V up in a which was s he raised rt was run houting to lother ex- ch Charlie ) casks and llowed by that there at the cart held their vould not Lit happily Lme down [ave way. e ground, ', had the OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 423 curious effect of reviving Buttercup, for she muttered something to tlie effect that " dat was a mos' drefful smash " as they convoyed her and her rescuer from the vicinity of danger. This had scarcely been done when the house blew lip— its walls were driven outwards, its roof was blown off, its bottles were shattered, all its baleful contents were scattered around, and, amid an ap- propriate hurricane of blue fire, that drinking and gambling saloon was blown to atoms. Would that a like fate might overtake every similar establishment in the world ! This was the first and last attempt to disturb the peace of Sweetwater Bluff. It is said, indeed, that Crux and some of his men did, long afterwards, make their appearance in that happy and flourishing town, but they came as reformed men, not as foes— men' who had found out that in very truth sobriety tends to felicity, that honesty is the best policy, and that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. THE END. Printed by T. and A, Constable, Printers to Her Majesty, at the Edinburgh University Press.