CHAPTER XXV.
GOOD NEWS FROM WASHINGTON.
"Fainted, by Jove!"
So spoke Pawnee Brown as he sprang forward to Mortimer Arbuckle's aid.
The man was as pale as the driven snow, and for the instant the greatscout thought his very heart had stopped beating.
He raised Mortimer Arbuckle up and opened his collar and took off histie, that he might get some air.
"Wot's the row here?"
It was the voice of Peter Day, the backwoodsman who had agreed to takecare of Arbuckle during his illness. He had followed the man out of thehouse to see that no harm might befall him.
"He has fainted," answered Pawnee Brown. "Fetch some water, and holdthat--hang it, he's gone!"
Pawnee Brown rushed to the barn door. Far away he saw Powell Dikerunning as though the old Nick was after him. A second later the rascaldisappeared from view. The boomer never saw or heard of him again.
Between the great scout and Pawnee Brown, Mortimer Arbuckle was onceagain taken to Day's home and made comfortable.
"He insisted on taking a walk to-day," explained the backwoodsman. "Itold him he couldn't stand it. I reckon he's as bad now as he ever was."
"Take good care of him, Day, and beware of any men who may be prowlingabout," answered Pawnee Brown. "There is something wrong in the air, butI'm satisfied that if we help this poor fellow we'll be on the rightside of the brush."
Mortimer Arbuckle was now coming around, but when he spoke he was quiteout of his mind. The doctor was hastily sent for, and he administered apotion which speedily put the sufferer to sleep.
"It's an odd case," said the medical man. "The fellow is suffering morementally than physically. He must have something awful on his mind."
"He is the victim of some plot--I am certain of it," was the scout'sfirm answer.
Not long after this, Pawnee Brown was returning to Arkansas City,certain that Mortimer Arbuckle would now be well cared for and closelywatched until he and Dick could return to the sufferer.
"As soon as this booming business is over I must try to clear things forthat old gent," murmured the boomer to himself as he rode up to thetelegraph office. "I'd do a good deal for him and that noble son ofhis."
Another telegram had just come in, by way of Wichita, which ran asfollows:
"The Lower House of Congress has passed the Oklahoma bill. Pawnee Brownhas woke the politicians up at last. Stand ready to enter Oklahoma if anattempt is made to throw the bill aside in the Senate, but don't berash, as it may not be long before everything comes our way--in fact, itlooks as if everything would come very soon."
At this telegram the great scout was inclined to throw up his hat andgive a cheer. His work in Kansas was having an effect. No longer couldthe cattle kings stand up against the rights of the people. He handedthe message to a number of his friends standing near.
"Hurrah fer Pawnee Brown!" shouted one man, and standing on a soap boxread the telegram aloud.
"Score one fer the boomers!"
"An' a big one fer Pawnee."
"Don't hurry now, Pawnee, you've got 'em whar the hair ez good an'long!"
"It would seem so, men," answered the great scout. "No, I'll be carefulnow--since the tide has turned. In less than sixty days I'll wager all Iam worth we'll march into Oklahoma without the first sign of trouble."
It did not take the news long to travel to the boomers' camp, and greatwas the rejoicing upon every side.
"Dot's der pest ding I vos hear for a month," said Humpendinck. "Pawneeought to haf a medal alreatty."
"It's a stattoo we will put up fer him in Oklahomy," said Delaney. "Astattoo wid Pawnee a-ridin' loike mad to the new lands, wid theHomestead act in wan hand an' a bundle o' sthakes in th' other, an'under the stattoo we'll put the wurruds, 'Pawnee Brown, the St. Patrickav Oklahomy!'"
"Ach! go on mit yer St. Patrick!" howled Humpendinck. "He vos noddingsbut a snake killer."
"Oh, mon!" burst in Rosy Delaney. "A snake killer, Moike, do ye moindthot? Swat the Dootchman wan, quick!"
And Mike "swatted" with an end of a fence rail he was chopping up forfirewood. But Humpendinck dodged, and Rosy caught the blow, and therefollowed a lively row between her and Mike, in the midst of which theGerman boomer sneaked away.
"Dot Irishmans vos so fiery as der hair mit his head," he muttered tohimself. "I dink I vos keep out of sight bis he vos cool off, andden--Mine gracious, Bumpkin, var did you come from? I dinks you vos leftbehind py Arkansas City."
For there had suddenly appeared before Humpendinck the form of thedunce, hatless and with his black hair tumbled over his face in alldirections.
"Ha, ha! where have I been?" cried Pumpkin. "Where haven't I been youhad better ask. I've been everywhere--among the soldiers and the boomersand the Indians." He stopped short. "Where is Pawnee Brown?"
"Ofer py Clemmer's vagon. But he ton't vont ter pother mit you now."
"He will bother with me," and so speaking Pumpkin ran off, to reach thegreat scout's side and pluck him by the coat sleeve.
"At your service, sir," he said, bowing low, for with all of hispeculiarities Pumpkin had a great respect for Pawnee Brown.
"What is it, lad?"
"I have to report, sir, that your pard is captured--Jack Rasco; he had afearful fight and the soldiers have him. Ha! ha! they will shootJack--if you let 'em, but I know you won't--will you now?"
"You are certain Jack is captured?"
"Dead sure--saw him with my own eyes. Ha! ha! they tried to catchPumpkin, but they might as well try to catch a ghost. Ha! ha! but I give'em a fine run."
It took a good deal of talking to get a straight story from thehalf-witted youth, but at last Pawnee Brown was in full possession ofthe facts. Pumpkin had seen Rasco on the march just before Dick wastaken.
Immediately after this the boomer held a short consultation withClemmer.
"I feel it my duty to help Rasco to escape, if it can be done," he said."Besides, it is high time for me to return to Dick Arbuckle and to findout, if possible, what has become of Jack's niece."
"Shall I go along?" questioned Clemmer, "I wouldn't like anythingbetter."
"All right, come on," answered the great scout.
He had scarcely spoken when a loud cry rang out, coming from the lowerend of the camp.
"Buckley's bull has broken loose! Look out for yourself, the beast hasgone mad!"
"Buckley's bull!" muttered Pawnee Brown. "I ordered him to slaughterthat vicious beast. Why, he's as fierce as those the Mexicans use intheir bull fights!"
"He's a terror," answered Clemmer. "If he--By gum, here he comes,Pawnee!"
As he spoke Clemmer turned to one side and started to run. Lookingforward the great scout saw the bull bearing down upon him. The eyes ofthe creature were bloodshot and the foam was dripping from the cornersof his mouth, showing that he was clearly beyond control.
The bull, which was of extra large size, had Clemmer in view, and madeafter the cowboy, who happened to be unarmed. Away went man and beast insomething of a circle, to fetch up near Pawnee Brown less than a minutelater. As they came close, Clemmer fell and went sprawling almost at thescout's feet.
"Save me!" he panted. "Save me, Pawnee!"
Pawnee Brown did not answer. Leaping over the cowboy's prostrate form,he pulled out his pistol and his hunting knife and stood ready toreceive the bull, who came tearing along, with lowered horns, ready tocharge the scout to the death.