CHAPTER XXIII.
THE CAPTURE.
Fred was panting, his clothes were torn, and his manner that of oneoverwrought with tremendous excitement. He had come from the deeperwoods to the north of Turkey Hill, and was plainly hurrying homeward asfast as his feet would carry him.
Crouching behind the fallen tree, the two boys gazed in astonishment atSage as he passed them. They could hear his panting breath and see hisbreast heaving, and into the minds of both leaped the strange thoughtthat only for his exertions his face would have been ghastly pale. Therewas a wild expression in his eyes, like that of a person in great fear.
Hooker remained kneeling, petrified, but Piper partly rose, his lipsopen, as if he thought of shouting to the running lad. If this was hisintention, however, he changed his mind, not uttering as much as awhisper, and stood staring after the hurrying boy, the crashing soundsof whose movements could be heard for some moments following hisdisappearance. Presently those sounds died out and silence fell upon thewoods.
Shaking off his lethargy, Hooker rose. “Well,” he breathed, “what haveyou got to say about that, Pipe?”
Sleuth’s forehead was puckered in a momentary frown. Before answering,he climbed to the bole of the tree and stepped down on the other side,Roy following.
“It simply confirms my theory,” announced Piper. “Fred is badly scared.Somewhere yonder in these woods he lately parted from his brother, whois wounded and a fugitive from justice. That’s quite enough to putFred’s nerves on the blink.”
“But why is he running for home that fashion?”
“For one reason, he doesn’t wish to be seen here in the woods by anyonesearching for the bank robbers. For another reason, he must rememberthat there is a telltale pool of blood on the floor of his father’sstable, every trace of which I’ll guarantee will soon be removed afterFred gets home.”
“I guess you’re right,” admitted Roy regretfully. “I’m sorry about thisbusiness—mighty sorry.”
“I, too, am sorry for Sage,” nodded Piper; “but in matters like this,where justice and the rights of peaceable citizens are involved,sentiment must be put aside.”
“Fred’s a good fellow,” muttered Hooker. “We’ve been pretty chummy.”
“Of course he’s a good fellow; nobody disputes that.”
“But to think he has such a brother!”
“That’s his misfortune, not his fault.”
“And he’s trying to help the fellow escape.”
“You’d do the same under similar circumstances, so don’t condemn him.But while we’re gabbing here the fugitive is getting farther away. Ofcourse, if he’s badly hurt, as it seems he must be, he can’t coverground as fast as he otherwise might.”
“We can’t find him in these woods; we might as well give up that idea.”
“And give up all hope of copping the reward!” exclaimed Sleuth. “Not I.The slope of Turkey Hill isn’t far away, and from it we can get a goodview of the swamp and the woods. Perhaps we’ll see something of thefellow by climbing up there. Anyhow, it won’t take us far out of ourcourse, if we’re going to make for that old camp in the swamp, in whichI fancy our man, at Fred’s suggestion, may try to hide. Don’t quit. Comeon.”
For a short distance Sleuth sought to retrace the trail made by FredSage while hurrying homeward, but this was so slow and exasperating thatpresently he abandoned the effort and made straight for Turkey Hill.There the boys pantingly climbed the first steep slope, soon arriving ata clearing upon the hillside where the timber had been cut away, leavingan expanse of unsightly stumps.
“From this spot,” reminded Piper, “Spotty Davis was seen when he shotBerlin Barker’s hound. Use your eyes, Hooker. See if you can discoveranyone moving in the woods or the open places down yonder.”
For some moments they searched the lower expanse of woods and clearingswith their eyes.
“I don’t see a thing,” muttered Roy presently. “I don’t believe we’ll beable to——”
“Look at those crows yonder,” interrupted Sleuth, flinging out his hand.
Some distance away, near the base of the hill to the westward, a numberof crows had suddenly risen into the air, cawing wildly.
“We’re not hunting for crows,” reminded Hooker.
“I’ve studied the habits of those birds,” asserted the amateurdetective, “and I’ll guarantee they’ve been suddenly alarmed bysomething moving in the woods near by. Hear them cawing? Take it fromme, they are shouting in crow language: ‘Man! man! Here’s a man!’”
“Oh, rot, Piper! You may be pretty wise about some things, but——”
“_There he is!_” rasped Sleuth, suddenly seizing his companion’s arm andpointing with the other hand. “I saw him—I saw him run across a littleopening! He’s coming back this way, too!”
“Why—why should he do that?” wondered the bewildered Hooker.
“Because, in all probability, he has discovered a posse of searchersover yonder. He has been compelled to double back on his tracks. We maybe able to cut him off if we hustle.”
Without waiting to see if Roy followed, Piper ran down across theclearing, dodging hither and thither to avoid the stumps, and plungedonce more into the woods, setting a course calculated to intercept thefleeing man. Once more he had drawn his revolver, which he carried inhis hand as he ran.
Roy followed instinctively, although it must be confessed that he hadlittle relish for an encounter with a desperate criminal fleeing fromman-hunters. Sleuth was buoyed by excitement and a sort of fictitiouscourage, which, possibly, might desert him in a twinkling when thedecisive moment came. On through the woods he darted, turning hither andthither to avoid the denser thickets. His ears told him that Roy wascoming, and that was sufficient. Dead branches snapped beneath theirflying feet; in places fallen leaves were scattered with a swish and arustle; once or twice both lads felt their heart-strings tug as theyglimpsed black tree trunks, any one of which for a moment might havebeen mistaken for a man.
Suddenly they burst out into a rocky bit of pasture land, through whichran a deep gully. And there, not thirty rods away, was the man!
Evidently warned by the sounds they had made while running through thewoods, he was looking toward them when they appeared, and in everyrespect his bearing was that of a creature hunted and nearly cornered.
“Stop!” cried Sleuth, lifting the revolver and halting so suddenly thatHooker nearly bumped against him. “Throw up your hands!”
Instead of obeying, the man turned toward the gully and made a desperateattempt to leap across it. Beneath his feet the ground gave way, and theboys saw him disappear with one arm outflung, as if he had fruitlesslyclutched at the empty air.
“Jerusalem!” burst from Roy’s lips. “He’s gone!”
“And if that tumble doesn’t bump him some, I’m mistaken,” said Sleuth.“We can get him before he recovers.”
Nevertheless, he exhibited a certain amount of caution and apprehensionas he reached the gully and peered into it.
“He may shoot,” called Hooker, holding back discreetly.
“Not he,” exulted Sleuth. “Here he is! Come on; we’ve got him!”
With seeming recklessness, Piper slid down into the gully, stillgripping his revolver in his right hand.
“I never thought it of him,” said Roy, aghast—“never!”
A moment later, peering downward, he saw the other boy bending over thebody of a man who lay amid some rocks at the bottom of the gully.
“Come down,” called Piper chokingly, his voice husky and shaking withexcitement. “We’ve got him cold! He was knocked out, stunned by thatfall.”
“HERE HE IS! COME ON; WE’VE GOT HIM!”—Page 242.]
Hooker, his courage reviving, descended into the gully, bringing downwith him a small mass of loose earth and stones. He found Piper goingthrough the pockets of the unconscious man.
“Here,” said Sleuth, passing over an autom
atic pistol, “take this thing,Hook. We’ll render him helpless by disarming him so that he can’t domuch when he comes round.”
“Hadn’t—hadn’t we better tie his hands behind his back?” falteredHooker.
“If we have to, we will,” assured Sleuth; “but it will be liable tocause him a great deal of suffering. You can see that he was shot in theright arm and shoulder. That’s where old Quinn plugged him. His coatsleeve is all bloody. The coat was removed while his wound was bandaged,and his arm is hanging loose inside of it now. Certainly he couldn’t runvery fast that way. No wonder he didn’t get away.”
“He isn’t—dead—is he?” whispered Roy, staring at the pale face of theunfortunate wretch and noting a little trickle of blood which wasrunning down across the man’s temple from a cut higher up in the edge ofhis scalp.
“Oh, I guess not,” answered Piper, with an hysterical little gulp oflaughter. “He struck his head on the rocks down here when he fell, andthat put him to sleep for fair; but I’ll wager he’ll come round allright pretty soon. This is a big piece of work for us, Hook, old pal.Five hundred dollars for the capture of Mr. James Wilson, _alias_Gentleman Jim, won’t divvy up so bad between us. Eh? What?”
“But is he—is he Gentleman Jim?” muttered Roy, staring at the man’sface. “Have we got the right man?”
“The right man?” echoed Piper. “He must be the right one, or Fred Sagenever would have tried to help him get away. Isn’t he the man you sawand talked with in the woods beyond Culver’s Bridge?”
“No, he’s not,” answered Roy positively.
“Gee!” gasped Sleuth in dismay. “That’s queer!”