Read Two Boys in Wyoming: A Tale of Adventure Page 18


  CHAPTER XVIII.

  THE QUEST OF THE COWMAN.

  It was Hank Hazletine, the cowman, who leaped over the head of JackDudley when he was crouching on the rock in the canyon, and it happenedin this way:

  It has been intimated that when the veteran left the boy at thetemporary camp on the mountain side his intention was to learn thewhereabouts of Motoza, the Sioux, hoping thereby to gain knowledge ofthe missing Fred Greenwood.

  This was a task of extreme difficulty, inasmuch as it was certain thevagrant red man would be on his guard against such strategy. The Indianwhom Hank saw with the aid of the spy-glass was not he whom he wished totrace, but, suspecting he was in the vicinity, the cowman made his waythither by a roundabout course. He was on the alert for the fellow, orfor his ally, Bill Tozer. Should either or both of them discover Hank,he might well assume that it was an accident. It could hardly beexpected of him that he would remain at the cavern for twenty-fourhours, awaiting the time for Tozer to meet him. His most natural coursewould be to engage in hunting with his youthful companion, and he couldreasonably claim to be thus engaged if a meeting took place.

  Should events prove that the plotters were too watchful to be caught offtheir guard, then the second phase of the business was to be considered;but it remained to be seen whether such was the fact. The ransom was tobe agreed to when it was apparent that no other course could save thelad.

  Advancing with the care and stealth of a trained Indian scout, Hazletineremained but a short time near the break in the canyon, for suspecting,as did Jack Dudley, that it was in that neighborhood the key to thesituation was to be found, he was exposing himself to discovery. Heclimbed the same ascent, leaped the canyon, and ensconced himself on thefurther side. His intention was to peer over the edge into the depthsbelow, instead of taking the course followed later by his young friend.

  He was acting on this idea, when he came within a hair of spoilingeverything by committing the very blunder against which he had soughtwith so much pains to guard. At his height above the torrent, as will beremembered, no one was disturbed by the roar of the waters far below.Because of his susceptibility to sounds, he heard an exclamation utteredby some one near him. The point whence it came was a clump of rockshardly fifty feet distant, and he fancied he recognized the voice asBill Tozer's. To his relief he could see no one, and it was safe,therefore, to assume that no one as yet saw him.

  The ground was favorable, and by using the utmost care he secured aposition from which he discovered Tozer and Motoza in conversation. Thewhite man was sitting on a boulder, while the Sioux was standing infront of him, gesticulating as if angry over something that had beenproposed or said. Tozer was smoking a pipe, and seemed cool andcollected, though the exclamation which had betrayed him indicated thatit had not been thus from the beginning.

  It was an important discovery for Hazletine to make, but it was attendedby two exasperating facts: the interview was nearly over, and the wordsthat remained to be spoken were uttered in such moderate tones that hecould not hear a syllable. If the couple had been obliging enough toraise their voices, it is probable that the knowledge sought by theeavesdropper would have soon been at his command.

  But nothing of that nature took place. Within five minutes after thearrival of the cowman, prepared to act his part as spy, Motoza turnedabout and walked away in the direction of the canyon, while Tozer took acourse which, if continued, would lead him to the plateau.

  "I don't think he'll go there, fur he's no reason to look fur me in thatplace afore to-morrer morning."

  But the white man was not the important factor in the problem. Hankwaited for some minutes after he had passed from sight, and then set outto regain sight of Motoza, which task proved more difficult than heexpected. The fellow had vanished, and it was impossible to tell whitherhe had gone. The rocky surface left no trail which even an Apache couldfollow, and it only remained for the cowman to fall back upon what maybe called general principles.

  The experience of the cowman was another illustration of how muchdepends in this world on what is called chance.

  Jack Dudley, without any preliminary training in woodcraft, discoveredMotoza as he emerged from the canyon, while the veteran of the West,skilled in all the ways of his venturesome life, spent hours in lookingfor the Sioux without obtaining the first glimpse of him. That he missedhim by a margin that could not have been narrower was a fact; but "amiss is as good as a mile," and the autumn afternoon drew to a closewithout the first glimmer of success on his part. He had gone so far,even, as to visit a distant camp-fire, whose smoke still faintly showedagainst the clear sky, but failed to see a living person.

  He was on the point of giving over his quest, when the unexpectedhappened. Within a few hundred yards of the break in the canyon hecaught sight of Motoza and Tozer holding another consultation. They hadevidently just met, and the configuration of the ground enabledHazletine to steal near enough to catch some of the words spoken by thecouple.

  The two were standing face to face, and their actions were peculiar.Motoza was in the act of handing his Winchester rifle to Tozer, who,accepting the weapon, turned it over and examined it with interest.Since he could not speak the Sioux he used the English language, ofwhich, as will be remembered, Motoza possessed a fair knowledge.

  "You're lucky," he said; "the gun is worth more than yours. So you madea trade with the young man?"

  "Yes--me trade," replied the Sioux, his painted face relaxing with thegrin that had become almost chronic.

  "I don't s'pose he made any objection--that is, he gave you his gunwithout making a kick?"

  The Sioux nodded his head and still grinned, Tozer joining him in thelast expression of his feelings.

  "How about his revolver?"

  "He gib me that," said the scamp, drawing forth the handsome weapon,where Hazletine had not observed it, thrust into the girdle about hiswaist.

  There was no mistaking the meaning of these words and proceedings. Alldoubt was removed as to the abduction of Fred Greenwood. Motoza was theagent in the outrage, though whether Tozer had taken an active part inthe same was yet uncertain. He scanned the smaller firearm, and then,instead of returning it to the Sioux, deliberately shoved it into hiship-pocket.

  "I think I'll take charge of that, Motoza."

  The buck was about to make angry objection, when the white manexplained:

  "When I meet Hank to-morrow he'll want some proof that I can turn overthe youngster to him. He won't believe I can do so till he sees thatproof. I'll show him this revolver, and he'll know it belongs to theyoungster. That will be all the proof he'll ask. The rest will comeeasy; and, Motoza, you and I will be rich."

  There was an emphasis in this declaration that was convincing to thedusky partner in crime. He nodded his head and made no further protest.Evidently he was under the influence of his white ally.

  At this juncture the couple turned their backs upon the eavesdropper,who had stolen to within a few paces of them. They continued talking,but the change of position prevented his hearing what was said. It waspeculiarly exasperating, for, though he had gained considerableinformation, he still lacked the most important news of all. He hadheard no intimation of where the prisoner was held. Could he but learnthat, he would have lost no time in attempting his rescue. It must besaid, furthermore, that had such knowledge come to him he would not havehesitated to draw bead on the two miscreants in turn, and shoot themdown in their tracks. He was thoroughly enraged, and they deserved thefate.

  A few minutes after the change of position the couple walked away, sideby side, still conversing. Certain discovery would have followed anyattempt on the part of the cowman to keep at their heels or nigh enoughto overhear their words, so he held his place and saw them pass fromsight. He had noted the direction, however, and observed that it ledfrom the canyon and deeper into the mountains.

  This was puzzling. It seemed to Hank that one or both would make theirway to the prison of the youth, for it was unlikely that he would beleft
alone through the night. Having no thought of being undersurveillance, Motoza and Tozer would take a direct course to the placeof confinement, which now seemed to be deeper in the mountains, and atsome point of which the cowman had no suspicion.

  It was of the highest importance that the couple should not be allowedto pass beyond sight, and the cowman began a cautious search for them.But once more he was doomed to disappointment. In the gathering twilightit was impossible to regain sight of them, and, convinced of theuselessness of the attempt, he gave it up.

  "It begins to look as if Tozer holds the winning hand," he angrilymuttered; "there ain't no question that the two have the younker safe,and I've no idee where to hunt fur him--but hold on!"

  The conviction, or rather suspicion, that the prison of the youth waswithin the canyon returned to the hunter with redoubled force. Why hadhe not searched there before? If it was a mistake, no harm could follow;if it was not a mistake--well, he should see.

  Wondering at himself because of his oversight, he abandoned all attemptto regain sight of the couple and headed for the break in the canyon. Hearrived only a brief while after Jack Dudley attempted and failed tofollow up the gorge, and except for the mishap of the youth the twowould have met within the following few minutes. It has already beenshown how narrowly they missed doing so.

  The familiarity of the cowman with the canyon averted the mistake madeby his young friend. He ascended it with scarcely any hesitation,although in the dense gloom his vision was almost useless. It wasbecause of that that he well-nigh stepped upon the crouching figurewithout suspecting it. Reaching the stone where Jack had beenoverwhelmed by failure, the cowman paused for a minute and peered roundin the gloom. Not until he had glanced upward and studied the projectingcrags over his head as outlined against the starlit sky was heabsolutely sure of his location. That glance made everything clear.

  The next rock upon which it was necessary to leap was within easy reach,and had Jack Dudley known its location he would have fallen into notrouble. It lay to the left, close to the side of the canyon, and reallycarried one no further up the gorge; but from its surface he readilybounded to one beyond, and continued his leap-frog performance until hehad ascended another hundred yards.

  He was now close to the point he had in mind. It was there that he hadbeen picking his way when the wondering boys, looking down from the top,saw him. Hazletine would have explained his action to them but for acertain feeling of shame which was not unnatural.

  There had been rumors for years among the cattlemen of SouthwesternWyoming of a cavern in the canyon which was studded with gold. Manysearches had been made for it, but without success. Hank Hazletine wasamong those who engaged in the hunt, but neither he nor his friendssucceeded in finding the place. The veteran was not quite ready toabandon hope, and when he found himself in the section once more, on thehunt in which he acted as guide for the boys, he determined to make adecisive exploration without letting any one know his secret.

  It was on this expedition that he succeeded in finding the cavern, buthis trained eye immediately told him the marvellous legend was a myth.It was a romantic and picturesque spot, but there was not a grain ofauriferous metal or ore in sight. Hoping that a second cavern was in thevicinity, he extended his search. When he emerged from the gorge, at thepoint where the break occurred, it was with the certainty that the wholething was a fable. With a grim smile he dismissed the matter andresolved not to think of it again. He felt that he had acted foolishly,and his reluctance to tell his story to his young friends, therefore,was only natural.

  But once more the cowman was on his way to the mysterious cavern, drawnby the hope, rather than the belief, that it was there he would findFred Greenwood a prisoner and awaiting the completion of the bargain forhis release by his abductors.

  Determined to make no mistake, he halted under the projecting ledge andspent several minutes in peering around in the gloom. It looked as if hewas right; but the darkness was too profound for him to make sure, andeven the scrutiny of the ribbon of sky that showed above the narrowopening a thousand feet above his head failed to remove the last vestigeof doubt.

  Like the boys, Hank carried a rubber safe of matches. Producing this, hestruck one of the tiny bits on the corrugated bottom of the little blackbox, and, shading the flame with his fingers from the moist wind causedby the dashing waters, he glanced at his immediate surroundings. He hadstrapped his Winchester to his back, and his arms were free.

  A thrill of pleasure went through him, for the first scrutiny showed hewas right. Directly over his head projected a thin ledge within readyreach. It was what might be termed the doorstep to the cavern. He hadcome to the exact spot for which he was searching.

  Flinging the extinguished match into the waters at his side, he reachedupward, and without difficulty drew himself upon the ledge. He was nowin front of the cavern which he had visited by daylight, and whoseinterior was impressed so vividly on his memory that he knew every footof it.

  "Is the younker in there?" was the question he asked himself afterregaining his feet. To test the matter, he called his name. The fiercetorrent roared below and around him, but he was sure his words must havepenetrated into the dismal recesses. He repeated the call several timeswithout response.

  "It may be the younker is asleep, or, if he hears me, he may take me furMotoza; and yet that couldn't be, for our voices don't sound alike."

  Once more he produced his rubber safe and struck a match, holding thetwinkling flame above his head as he slowly moved forward into thecavern. Before the light expired he had another, for he intended to makehis search thorough.

  The opening in the side of the canyon had a width of ten or twelve feet,was of the same height, and extended back for more than double thedistance. Side, floor and roof were of irregular formation, and thecraggy stones rough and wet. Had there been any gleaming stalactites orstalagmites in sight, the cause of the legend attaching to the placewould have been understood, but there was nothing of that nature. Thecavern was simply a rent in the side of the canyon wall, created by someconvulsion of nature, and all that was visible was damp limestone.

  By the time the visitor had burned three matches his examination of theplace was completed and he had made the discovery that he was the onlyoccupant. Fred Greenwood was not there, nor did the cavern show signs ofhaving been visited by person or animal.

  But hold! When Hank threw down the last expiring match, he caught aglimpse of something white on the flinty floor. He had not thought oflooking for anything, and it was the accidental following of the matchwith his gaze that revealed the object. Instantly another match wassending out its feeble rays, and he stooped down and picked up thatwhich had arrested his attention.

  It was a piece of paper, apparently the blank leaf of a letter. Therewas no writing or mark on it to indicate its ownership, but had it beenthe visiting-card of Fred Greenwood, Hank Hazletine could not have beenmore positive that it belonged to the young man.

  It was impossible that Motoza should carry writing-paper with him. Thecowman never did so, consequently he could not have dropped it on hislate visit. It was equally improbable that Bill Tozer had anything to dowith it. He knew that both of the boys had paper and pencils with them,for he had seen them figuring over some problems they were discussing,and with a thrill of conviction he remembered that the paper they usedwas of precisely the same pattern as the piece he held in his hand.

  "The younker has been here, but what the mischief has become of him?"and the mystified cowman looked right and left, on the floor and at theroof, as if he suspected the youth was hiding in one of those places.

  An explanation suggested itself. After taking the lad to the cavern, hiscaptor from some cause had changed his mind and transferred him toanother place of confinement.

  No; there was another theory which would explain the mystery: it wasthat Motoza, yielding to his implacable enmity of the youth, had placedhim beyond all reach of his friends. The spirit of revenge with anAmerican Indian is
tenfold stronger than cupidity. It was not improbablethat the miscreant, having committed the unspeakable crime, wasconcealing it from Tozer, his ally in the dreadful business.

  The work of the cowman was finished for the time. He carefully lethimself down from the ledge to the rock immediately beneath, and beganworking his way through the canyon to the opening at the break. Hisfamiliarity stood him in as good stead as before, and he reached theplace without mishap. Climbing the steep slope to the higher ground, hesat down for a few minutes' thought.

  It was well into the night, and it was useless to attempt to do anythingmore. He was as firmly resolved, however, as before not to be outwittedby the ruffians with whom he was dealing. He would consent to no attemptto pay them a ransom until he knew beyond peradventure that their partof the contract would be fulfilled.

  "If they try any crooked work," he muttered, with deadly earnestness,"both of 'em have got to settle with Hank Hazletine."

  He gave no thought to Jack Dudley, for he took it for granted that hehad been able to look out for himself during the day. Following theroute so well known to him, he reached the plateau within an hour afterthe arrival of the youth, who had started a fire and was doing his bestto dry his clothing and gain some warmth for his chilled body.

  It need not be said that the cowman was interested in the story told bythe youth, and was astonished beyond measure to learn that both hadtaken the same route, one actually passing the other without eithersuspecting it. On his part, Hazletine related all that he had passedthrough, and explained the reason of his ascent of the canyon some timebefore, when he was observed by the wondering lads.

  Meanwhile, where was Fred Greenwood?