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Klondike Nuggets and How Two Boys Secured Them, a fiction by Edward Sylvester Ellis |
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Chapter 22. A Lion In The Path |
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_ CHAPTER XXII. A LION IN THE PATH
"You needn't do that; I am not afraid of you. If you will lead me to the spot where you and Hardman hid our gold, I will set you free." "I don't know anything about your gold," whimpered the fellow, who now proved himself a coward. "I was only joking with you." "You and he took it. I shall hold you a prisoner until my friend comes up, and then turn you over to the mounted police." "All right; if it is a square deal, follow me." He turned and darted behind the rock. The youth made after him, but when he came in sight of the fugitive again he was fifty feet distant, and running like a deer. Perhaps Roswell might have winged him, but he did not try to do so. He felt a natural repugnance to doing a thing of that nature, and the fact was self-evident that it would do no good. The man would sturdily insist that he knew nothing of the missing gold, and there could be no actual proof that he did. Had he been held a prisoner he might have been forced to terms, but it was too late now to think of that, and the youth stood motionless and saw him disappear among the rocks. "I wonder how Frank has made out," was his thought. "He can't have done worse than I." Meanwhile, young Mansley had no idle time on his hands. He had hurried up the fork of the trail, after parting with his companion, until he had passed about the same distance. The two paths, although diverging, did not do so to the extent the boys thought, and thus it came about that they were considerably nearer each other than they supposed. It need not be said that Frank was on the alert. Suspecting he was in the vicinity of the men for whom they were searching, he paid no attention to the ground, but glanced keenly to the right and left, and even behind him. He was thus engaged when something moved beside a craggy mass of rocks a little way ahead and slightly to the right of the path he was following. A second look showed the object to be a man, and though his back was toward the lad, his dress and general appearance left little doubt that he was Hardman. His attitude was that of listening. His shoulders were thrown slightly forward, and he gave a quick flirt of his head, which brought his profile for the moment into view. This removed all doubt as to his identity. It was Ike Hardman. Frank's first thought was that he was standing near the spot where the gold had been secreted, and was looking around to make sure no one saw him, but it may have been he heard something of the movements of his confederate that had escaped Roswell Palmer. Afraid of being detected, Frank crouched behind the nearest bowlder, but was a second too late. Hardman had observed him, and was off like a flash. To Frank's amazement, when he looked for him he was gone. Determined not to lose him, the youth ran forward as fast as the nature of the ground would permit. Reaching the spot where he had first discovered the man, he glanced at the surroundings, but could see nothing to indicate that the gold had been hidden anywhere near, though the probabilities pointed to such being the fact, for it must have been in that vicinity that the burro was turned free. But the boy felt the necessity of bringing the man himself to terms, and with scarcely a halt he hurried over the bowlders and around the rocks in what he believed to be the right direction, though he had no certain knowledge that such was the fact. He was still clambering forward, panting, impatient, and angry, when a figure suddenly came to view a little way in advance. Frank abruptly stopped and brought his gun to a level, but before he could aim he perceived to his amazement that it was his cousin Roswell standing motionless and looking with wonderment around him. A moment later the two came together and hastily exchanged experiences. "We have made a mess of it," was the disgusted comment of Frank, "for we had them both and let them get away." "All the same we must be near the spot where the gold was hidden, and I believe we can find it by searching." "We may, but the chances are a hundred to one against it. How strange that those two men carried no firearms!" It has been shown that the Klondike country is not one of dangerous weapons, because it is well governed, and the necessity, therefore, does not exist for men to go about armed. Many of them unquestionably carry pistols, but larger weapons are few, and the majority have neither, for they only serve as incumbrances. Strange, therefore, as it may seem, Hardman and his companion had but a single revolver between them, and the man who carried that spoke the truth when he said all its chambers were empty and he was without the means of loading it. The great oversight of the two was that when they entered the cavern and took away the gold, they left the Winchester and revolvers. This may have been due to their eagerness to carry off every ounce of gold, but the commonest prudence would have suggested that they "spike" the weapons, so as to prevent their being used against them. A brief consultation caused the boys to decide to return to the cavern and await the return of their friends. Then the whole party could take up the search, though it seemed almost hopeless. Disheartened, they started down the trail, Frank in advance and both silent, for their thoughts were too depressing for expression. Suddenly the leader stopped and raised his hand for his companion to do the same. The cause was apparent, for at that moment, in rounding a bend in the path, they saw Ike Hardman in front, moving stealthily in the same direction with themselves, but the rogue was watchful and caught sight of them at the same moment. As before, he was off like an arrow, the winding trail allowing him to pass from sight in the twinkling of an eye, as may be said. Before they could take up the pursuit a great commotion broke out below them, and wondering what it could mean, the boys stopped to listen. It immediately became apparent that the fugitive had come in collision with some one approaching from the other direction over the trail, and that same person was gifted with a vigorous voice of which he was making free use. "Ah, but ye are the spalpeen I've been looking fur! This is the way ye sittle up fur the money ye tuk from me! Mister Hardman, do your bist, for that's what I'm going to do. Do ye hear me?" "It's Tim!" exclaimed Roswell; "let's hurry to his help!" But Frank caught his arm. "It's the other fellow who needs help, and Tim will take it as unkind for us to interfere, but we can look on." And they hurried forward. _ |
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