Jim Cummings; Or, The Great Adams Express Robbery Part 15

Instantly several rifles were leveled at the flying robbers, and had not Chip commanded them not to shoot it would have fared ill with Jim c.u.mmings and his companions.

With the speed of the wind the horses flew down the trail, the rapid hoof beats rang out on the still night and sent the slinking coyotes howling to their lairs. Just peering above the horizon could be seen the dark outlines of Goody's Bluff, fifteen miles away, and if c.u.mmings could but reach its shadow he was safe, even from the posse which was pursuing him, for he would then be in the Indian Territory. Looking back at his pursuers, who in a solid group were following him so closely that he could almost distinguish their features, so bright was the night, he saw that their horses were not driven at the full height of their speed, but were rather being held back. Alarmed at this he communicated his fears to his companions, who, one on each side, were bending forward in the saddle, urging and caressing their horses to get all there was out of them, and right gamely did the stanch animals respond to the touch of the spur or pat of the hand, as they beat out mile after mile behind them, the hoof-beats echoed by the flying party behind. With starting eye-b.a.l.l.s eagerly fixed on the dim outlines of the bluff, the hunted men watched it grow larger and more distinct, and hope began to revive in their b.r.e.a.s.t.s when a sharp "ping" of a rifle, followed by the whistle of the ball pa.s.sing over their heads broke the silence of the wordless chase.

As with one impulse, each man threw himself flat on his horse's neck, but did not for an instant relax speed or spur. Another shot followed, and Chip's voice, ringing and clear, shouted:

"If you don't halt, we'll shoot your horses."

"Shoot and be d.a.m.ned," said Jim c.u.mmings, almost exultingly, as he drew his revolver from his belt. "Two can play at that game," and drawing a hasty bead on Chip, he pulled the trigger.

Chip's horse, giving a convulsive leap to one side, staggered a little, and fell behind, but was soon in the lead again, apparently unhurt.

"Boys," shouted c.u.mmings, "d'ye see that dry creek bed. On the other side we're safe," The pursuing posse, hearing these words, and knowing their full import, gave spurs to their horses, and the distance between the two parties closed up so rapidly that the three outlaws could hear the heavy breathing of the following horses.

Their own animals began to show signs of distress, and the dry creek bed was still a long, long distance off.

Nearer and nearer crept Chip and his men, the thirteen men, pursuers and pursued, was almost in one party. Chip, who lead, and c.u.mmings, who rode behind his comrades, were not a horse's length apart.

Slowly the gallant beast Chip bestrode pushed forward, gaining little by little until his nose almost reached the flank of Jim's steed.

"Jim c.u.mmings, do you surrender?" and the sharp click of a revolver was heard.

With a malignant scowl c.u.mmings half turned in his saddle, and saying:

"No, d.a.m.n me, no; not while I live," placed his revolver at the head of Chip's mount and sent the ball crashing to its brain.

Down in its tracks shot the n.o.ble steed, the dark, rich blood jetting from the ghastly hole, and deluging Chip with its crimson flood.

Chip, with the address of an experienced horseman, had lighted upon his feet, his revolver still clutched in his hand.

The sudden fall of the leading horse had caused the remainder of the party to haul up short to avoid running horse and rider down. This left the road clear before him, and Chip, dropping on his knee took a long careful sight at c.u.mmings and fired.

A sudden swerve of Jim's horse saved him, but uttering a cry of pain, Cook's steed, struck in a vital point, stopped short, and trembling in every limb slowly sank to the ground. Cook, taken so unexpectedly, had shot over his horse's head, and now lay, unconscious, in the center of the trail, his two companions, driving the spurs deeper into the flanks of their almost exhausted animals, dashed down the banks of the dividing line and stood safe on Indian Territory.

The unconscious Cook was at once surrounded by the detectives and posse, and a generous dose of brandy poured down his throat brought him to his senses.

Chagrined beyond measure at the escape of his man, just when he was about to put his hand on him, and at the loss of his horse, Chip was in no humor to allow a technical boundary line to keep him from capturing his men, who, riding around the edge of an elevation on the prairie were now lost to sight.

"Brodey," he said, turning to the ranger who had been the guide of the expedition from the time it started from Kansas City, "how far is it to Swanson's ranche?"

"A matter of twenty-five miles, as the crow flies."

"How far by the trail?"

"Well, Cap'n," responded Brodey, reflectively, as he threw his knee over the pommel of his saddle, "lemme see. The trail goes by that there belt of timber, then jines the stage-road to Allewe, an' follows that a piece, then it shunts off to the west straight for the bluff thar, purty nearly a bee-line. Thirty mile, sure--mebbe less."

"Is that the Indian Territory 'tother side of the divide?"

"Jesso--Cherokee Nation."

"What sort of a man is this Swanson?"

"Half-buffalo, half-painter, an' other half crocodile. He's wuss than a half-breed Apache, an would as soon shoot a man as to drink, an'

Swanson's a right powerful punisher of the whisky-jug."

"Yes! yes! I know all that, but is he cunning, shrewd, sharp, you know?"

"Got eyes like an Injun, ears like a coyote an' a nose sharp as a gopher snake."

"He must be a tough combination, but I'll do it, all the same."

"Do what, Chip?" asked Sam.

"Go down to Swanson's and bring in my man."

"Bars and buffler skins," cried Brodey. "You don't mean to say that you will do such a blame fool thing as that. Sho!"

"Not alone, Chip," said Sam. "I go with you."

"See hyar, young fellers," expostulated Brodey. "Do ye know what your doin'! Got any idee ye'll come back alive! I've been in some tough places before now, but shoot my worthless carca.s.s if I want to go to Swanson's. He's killed a man, torn out his heart and eaten it raw, fer a fact."

"Pshaw, who would believe such a yarn as that, man."

"Swar to gosh it's true," continued Brodey. "I don't believe thar's a man in the States what's got as much devil to thar square inch as this man Swanson. Better not go, Cap'n. I'd hate tremendous to have you killed."

Chip laughed lightly, as he stroked the neck of the Ranger's horse, and said:

"Brodey, I've been a detective for five years, and in those five years I've looked almost sure death in the face more than a score of times. I have seen the knife raised which was to be buried in my heart the next second. I have felt the revolver spit its flames plump in my face. I have been tied hand and feet and laid across the rail, with a lightning express train not over a thousand feet off, coming down like the wind, and I am a live man to-day. The man isn't born yet that can kill me."

Chip said all this in a modest tone and no signs of braggadocio, for it was all true, and his listeners knew he was telling facts by his bearing and manner.

"Yes," broke in Sam, "and I was with you on several of these occasions, and what's more, I shall be with you on this one you are planning."

"I want you should be--but enough of this talk. We can do nothing more now. Our men have given us the slip. Dismount, boys, and give the nags a breathing spell."

Cook, by this time, had regained his senses, and was sitting up in the middle of the trail rubbing his shoulder and wearing a most woebegone and dazed look upon his expressive countenance. Observing this, Chip walked toward him, and imitating a drunken stagger, sang:

"Drink, puppies, drink; let every puppy drink, That's old enough to stand and to swallow."

As the first strains fell on his ears, Cook started, and regarding Chip with questioning eyes, inquired:

"Who are you fellows anyway; can't you let peaceable travelers alone without shooting their horses?"

"Oh! you were peaceable travelers, were you? Well, now, that's strange, we took you to be some horse thieves that have been skurrying around these parts lately."

"Do you think I look like a horse-thief?" indignantly.

"Is that your own horse?"

"Not exactly. I hired--"