CHAPTER XVII.
THE WRONG MAN.
In the meantime, while the glare of the flames still shone behind them,two autos were speeding over the plains. The first, in which was seatedLuther Barr, Frank Reade and Hank Higgins, had been waiting just outsidethe town ever since the boys had heard it chug away before the firestarted.
Barr and his companions had spent the interim in ill-disguisedimpatience. Reade in particular seemed gloomy and apprehensive.
"This is dangerous business, Barr," he said. "If anything falls through,we might as well make up our minds to be lynched."
"What is the use of talking like that," snapped the old man. "Wild BillJenkins is a reliable man, Hank."
"He sure is that, Barr," rejoined the gambler. "If he says he'll do athing that thing is as good as did, and you may take your gospel onthat."
"And your partner, Noggy Wilkes?"
"Why, Barr," declared the other earnestly, "that feller would ratherstick up a stage or rob a bank than sit down to a chicken dinner."
"Hum," said old Barr, evidently highly pleased by the very dubiousrecommendations, "he must be an enterprising young man."
"I don't know what that ther word may mean, Barr," declared Higgins,gravely, "but if et means he's a good man for this job you can take yourDavy he is."
"I wish they would hurry up and start in," the old man began again,after an interval of silence; "they take a long time getting to work."
"Well, you know this isn't a job to be hurried," declared Hank.
"No, indeed," stammered Frank Reade nervously, "it's better to do itsafely and have no blunders. If it was found out that we had attemptedsuch a thing it would be our ruin. What will we do with Witherbee whenwe get him?"
"Drop him down a shaft some place; we want to be sure he doesn't followus to the mine," said Hank.
The occupants of the touring car were silent for a time, and thensuddenly old Barr held up a finger.
"Hark!" he exclaimed.
Very faintly the uproar that accompanied the outbreak of the fire wasborne to their ears.
Suddenly a brisk little puff of the night wind of the prairie blewtoward them. On its wings were borne the cry for which they had beenwaiting:
"Fire! Fire! Fire!"
"They've done it," grinned old Luther Barr.
"That's what," assented Hank Higgins, as a tongue of flame shot upwardabove the black huddle of shadows that marked the town.
"I only hope it destroys their aeroplane," viciously remarked FredReade, "we've got to win this race."
"I suppose you've been betting on it," sneered old Barr.
"And if I have it's none of your business, is it?" demanded Readefiercely.
"Oh, no; not at all. Don't be so savage, my dear young man, or I shallhave to ask Hank here to subdue you," smirked old Barr.
"He'd better not, or I'd soon fix him with this."
Reade drew out a huge revolver and brandished it, at which the desperadogrinned despisingly.
"Why, you'd be scared to handle it, even if you knew how. You letshooting irons alone till you git through with your nursing bottle," hesneered.
"I've a good mind to show you," shouted Reade angrily.
Old Barr quieted him with a reassuring tap on the shoulder.
"My dear young man, you are of undoubted courage. I believe you wouldfight a regiment if you thought it necessary."
Like all cowards, Fred Reade was very susceptible to flattery.
"You have the right estimation of my character, Mr. Barr," he blustered;"this wild and woolly westerner here cannot appreciate a man of grit andbrawn unless he wears a pair of moustaches like a billygoat and swaggersaround drinking at frontier bars."
"Is that so, Mister Reade?" sneered Hank Higgins, despite Barr's urginghim to keep quiet. "You're a writing gent, ain't yer?"
"I am a journalist--yes, sir."
"Wall, while we are waitin' here and watching that ther pretty bonfirethat Noggy Wilkes and our Wild friend have lit up, I'll just tell you alittle story of one of your trade who come out west looking forsensations."
"All right, go ahead and amuse yourself," said Reade sullenly.
"Don't get mad."
"Oh, I'm not mad. But cut out all your talk and tell your story."
"Very well, Mr. Reade, it goes this way. One night there was seated inthe bar at El Paso a young writing gent just like you are. He was a verybored young writing gent, and he says to a fren' who was with him:
"'I thought the west was full of sensations. It's deadly dull as I findit. Why don't suthen happen?'
"Wall, partner, jus' then two gents as had bin ridin' cattle for aconsiderable period, an' hed quite a hatful of coin ter celebrate with,blew in.
"'Ho! see that little feller!' says one, indercating the tenderfootwriting chap. 'I'll bet he's a good dancer.'
"'I'll bet he is, too,' says the other. 'Kin you dance, stranger?'
"'No,' says the tenderfoot, 'I can't.'
"'Oh, you cawnt, cawnt you,' says one of the range-ridin' gents. 'Thenthis is a blame good time to larn.'
"With that Mister Reade he whips out a big gun--jes like this one I'vegot here it was--and says:
"'Dance!'
"'I cawnt, I told yer,' says the tenderfoot.
"Bang! goes the old shooting iron, and the bullet plows up splintersright under his left foot. Wall, sir, he lifted that foot mighty lively,I kin tell yer. Livelier than a ground-owl kin dodge inter its hole.
"'Now, dance!' says the cattleman.
"'I cawnt,' says the tenderfoot, still unconvinced of the powers thatlay in him.
"Bang!
"This time it come under his right foot, and he lifts that.
"'Now, do it quick,' says the range rider, and they do say that the waythat feller shuffled his feet while them bullets spoiled a perfectlygood floor under 'em was as purty to watch as a stage show. Wall, laterin the evening them two cattle rustlers gits tired of that an' they gitsin a game of poker. Now, there's where that tenderfoot should have quit,but he didn't. He goes and sits inter it with 'em. Wall, purty soon adispute arises. One of them cow-punchers calls on the other to lay downhis hand, and there, stranger, they each have three aces."
"Wall, you couldn't see the room for smoke, they shot so fast, and oneof 'em died there and other on the doorsill. Wall, there had ter be aninquest, yer know, and among ther witnesses they rounded up was this yartenderfoot."
"'Whar was yer when ther first shot was fired?' the coroner asks him."
"'At the poker table,' says the tenderfoot."
"'And when the last was fired?' goed on the coroner."
"'At the Southern Pacific depot,' says the tenderfoot, and I reckonthat's the kind of a gun fighter you are, young Mister Reade," heconcluded.
By the time Hank Higgins concluded his narrative the glare of the firehad spread over the whole sky, and the sounds of excitement in the towncould be clearly heard. Perhaps this was what prevented the men in thewaiting auto hearing the approach of another car till it was close uponthem. At any rate, the other auto, which did not have any lights, wasclose up to them before Luther Barr exclaimed triumphantly:
"Good; they got it."
"Is the aeroplane destroyed?" was the first question Reade asked.
"Did you get the man?" was Luther Barr's eager query.
"One at a time, one at a time," growled Wild Bill Jenkins, "we've hadenough trouble to-night without answering a dozen questions at once,ain't we, Noggy?"
"That's right," grumbled Noggy Wilkes, who was driving the auto, "andI'm none too skillful now at driving a buzz wagon, although once I ownedone."
"Well, I reckon you see that we set the fire all right," remarked WildBill Jenkins, "and the joke of it was we could hear the kids warningthat old fool of a mayor about the attempt we were going ter make terattack 'em all the time we was settin' the fire and putting kerosene onit."
"Ha, ha, ha," laughed Noggy Wilkes,
as if an immense joke had beenrelated.
"Now, tell us, what about the aeroplane?" demanded Reade.
Now Wild Bill Jenkins and Noggy Wilkes had agreed to make all they couldout of the deal they had undertaken, so when Fred asked this in an eagervoice they responded:
"Oh, she's all burned up. Nothing left of her."
"Good," exclaimed Reade, passing over a fat roll of bills, "now, we cango ahead just as slowly as we like when we get to the mine at Calabazos.If we can file the claim to it it will be worth a lot more to us thanwinning the race."
"Speaking of the mine," put in Luther Barr, "where have you gotWitherbee?"
"Right in the tonneau, guv'ner," responded Wild Bill; "he made a lot oftrouble and I had to give him a tap on the head to quiet him, but he'llcome to all right."
"It's just as well," approved Luther Barr, "it will keep him quiet. Haveyou searched him yet?"
"No, not yet; we wanted to get out of town before those kids found outwe'd swiped the auto. They can't get after us in anything faster than anold buggy, and we'll be far away by the time they pick up the trail."
"Well, as you haven't searched him, you might just as well leave himwhere he is till we get to the place. You know that we are not going toPintoville."
"Not going there, guv'ner!" echoed Wild Bill amazedly.
"No, I said we were at Pintoville for a blind. You never know who may belistening. Instead of going there we will make for White Willow. We'vegot the aeroplane there."
"Say, guv'ner, you're a smart one."
"That's how I made my money," grinned old Luther Barr.
"Then, you've not been in Pintoville at all?"
"No, not for a minute. We had to land at White Willow; there's somethinggone wrong with the engine of Slade's ship. They are working on it now."
"That's why we were so anxious to have the boys' aeroplane disabled, sothat we could take our own time," put in Reade. "You are quite sure itis burned up?"
"Sure; why, I saw it with these here eyes," declared Noggy Wilkes. "Doyou think we'd have taken your money if it hadn't bin all destroyed, Mr.Reade?"
"What do you think we are--thieves?" demanded Wild Bill Jenkins, withwhat sounded like real indignation.
"Come, come, let's be getting on," urged old Barr. "They may pick up ourtrail, you know."
As he spoke and the autos started, there was a low growl of thunder. Oneof the rare thunderstorms that occasionally sweep over the desert whereit adjoins the mountains was coming up.
"Not after the storm they won't," laughed Hank Higgins confidently, "therain that that will bring will mighty soon wash out our trail."
As they speeded along a few minutes later the rain began to fall intorrents.
"Good-bye, boys, you'll never catch us now," exultingly cried LutherBarr.
A short time later they rolled into White Willow, where, on account ofthe size of the party, a whole house--of which there were many vacant inthe half-abandoned settlement--had been engaged. As the autos drew upthe downpour ceased and the growls of thunder went rolling away in thedistance.
"Say, that feller's bin mighty quiet; we'd better have a look at him,"suggested Frank Higgins; "maybe you tapped him too hard, Wild Bill."
"Not me," laughed the other. "I've stunned too many of 'em for that, buthe fit so hard I had to wrap him up in a blanket."
"He throwed it over him so sudden I didn't even see his face," saidNoggy admiringly; "he's a quick worker."
"Well, that makes no difference; I knowed him the minute I seed him,"confidently declared Wild Bill; "you gave me a good description--graywhiskers, tanned skin and a gray hat. Here he is as large as life."
He drew back the blanket that had covered a figure lying in the tonneauof the big car. As he did so, Luther Barr and the others who werecrowding round with a lantern gazed on the still features with a howl ofrage.
"You fool," fairly shrieked Barr, springing at Wild Bill in his anger,"_that's the wrong man_!"