Two Boys in Wyoming Part 28

"Is there any other way to talk?"

"You say you were just about starting out to hunt up Motoza. You won't be able to find him, for he'll keep out of your sight. Leave that part of the business to me."

"What'll you do?"

"I'll explain the situation to him, and then come back and have another talk with you."

"All right; you can't do it any too soon."

CHAPTER XVI.

WATCHING AND WATCHED.

Bill Tozer rose to his feet. The interview was over, and little remained to be said between the two.

"Then, Hank, you'll leave matters with me till I see you again?"

"When will that be?"

The man stood a moment in thought.

"In order that there shall be no mistake, let us agree that I shall call here to-morrow morning--twenty-four hours from now. How does that strike you?"

"That will do."

"I can make it less time than that, if you wish it."

"That suits; it's a go; good-by."

"Good-by," and the visitor turned on his heel and strode across the plateau, disappearing on the further margin, where he had first shown himself.

Hank Hazletine stood looking after him as long as he was in sight. When at last he vanished, an expression of scornful contempt darkened the bearded face of the cowman, and he muttered:

"Bill Tozer, you think you're smart, but _I understand you_!"

In the interview which has just been recorded the visitor believed he had outwitted the guide at every step, and yet exactly the reverse was the fact. Hank Hazletine had pretended a stupidity which was not real.

He noted the contradictions in the declarations of Tozer the instant they were made, but gave no evidence of it, his object being to draw out the miscreant, in which purpose he succeeded perfectly.

The whole truth was manifest to the guide. Fred Greenwood had been abducted not by Motoza alone, but by him and Bill Tozer. Beyond a doubt the daring scheme was the invention of the white man, who found a willing partner in the vagrant Sioux, who burned with enmity toward the youth. It was Tozer who made the mistake of supposing that the father of Fred was half-owner of the ranch, and, therefore, presumably a rich man.

Tozer had formed the plan of the abduction while at Bowman's ranch, and showed by his promptness that he had not allowed the gra.s.s to grow under his feet.

These meditations occupied but a few minutes, when the cowman walked toward Jack, who, seeing him approaching, advanced to meet him.

Hazletine felt that the change of conditions made it necessary to talk more freely than heretofore with the boy.

"Hank, it seems to me we are throwing away time," said the youth, a trifle impatiently.

"I'm not so sure of that, younker. I've news fur you."

The guide had a good memory, and he repeated, almost word for word, all that had been said by Tozer and himself. Jack was astounded. His first emotion was of profound grat.i.tude and delight, for the interview seemed to establish that Fred Greenwood was alive, and consequently within reach of recovery.

"He's not dead!" exclaimed the happy lad; "thank Heaven for that! I shall soon see him! It seems too good to be true."

"It isn't best to be sartin of anything in this world," remarked his friend, with a gravity of expression that ought to have chilled the ardor of Jack, but it did not. The tidings were too exhilarating for that.

"Now, younker," added the man, "we've got more time on our hands than we know what to do with. Come over by the fire and set down fur a while.

How's that appet.i.te of yours?"

"I am beginning to feel hungry."

"I thought so," observed Hank, with a smile.

"But there's no hurry. I can wait a little while."

"You'll have to."

"Now tell me who this man Tozer is?"

"Wal, he's a reg'lar Motoza, except in blood. I run across him five years ago in Arizona, where he had been in the stage-robbin' bus'ness.

Things got so hot he had to git out. I didn't hear anything more of him till I was driving cattle in Montana, when I discovered he was one of the worst rustlers in that part of the world. I'm sartin he has done a good many things fur which he ought to hang, but he's more cunning in his way than the Sioux, and has kept out of the penitentiary when anyone else would have been doing a life-term. Bill is a great gambler, and has made and lost fortunes, but he is always out of money and figgering how to git it ag'in. There isn't anything too mean fur him to do fur money.

He doesn't care any more fur the feelings of others than Geronimo."

"It looks as if the plan of abducting Fred and holding him for ransom is his."

"There ain't no doubt of it; he come to the ranch soon after we'd gone and larned all 'bout you tenderfeet from the boys themselves. The thought come to him at once that one of the chances of his lifetime was his. It's queer he made the mistake of believing that it was the father of the other younker as owned part of the ranch, but he got matters twisted in some way. You can see that if it hadn't been fur that blunder of his, it would be _you_ that your friend and me would be looking fur."

"I wish it were," was the honest exclamation of Jack Dudley; "but how was it he came to form his partnership with Motoza?"

"You've heard it said the devil takes care of his own; Bill and Motoza are old friends and have been in more than one shady job. I can't know, but I think Bill must have larned or suspicioned that the Sioux warn't fur off and he set out to hunt him up. Anyway they managed to come together, and the job was fixed up atween 'em. Howsumever," said the guide, "there ain't no use of talking and guessing over what _has been_, but we must face what _is_. Now, if Doctor Greenwood has word by telegraph that he must pay five thousand dollars to git his younker back agin, what'll he think?"

"He will think that this has been a pretty expensive outing for Fred,"

replied Jack, whose buoyancy of spirits prompted his trivial answer.

"Will he pay the money?"

"Yes, and twice as much more, if it is necessary; but won't he be startled and puzzled to know the meaning of it all! He will come right out here himself and bring some of the best detectives in the country."

"And if he does that, he'll never see his boy alive."

Jack looked at Hazletine in alarm and amazement. The cowman saw phases of this extraordinary business that had not presented themselves to the youth, and he now proceeded to impress them upon him. In the first place, the cunning Tozer would make sure of protecting himself and Motoza, though the last was purely a matter of policy and self interest, since he was always ready to sacrifice a comrade. In arranging the ransom or exchange, Tozer would take no chances. The friends of Fred Greenwood would have to remain out of sight and in the background. It would be impossible for any of them to try to checkmate him without his quickly learning it, whereupon he would abandon the job and turn over the boy to the savage will of the Sioux.

"And you know what _that_ means," added the cowman, impressively. "I should tell you something else, too. It's my belief that if the money is give to Tozer, and the Sioux is ordered to surrender the younker, he hates him that bad that he'll try to bring about his death and run the chances of hanging for it. Where two such wretches as him and Tozer are in a job there's bound to be crooked work, and I won't never believe you're going to shake the hand of t'other younker till I see it done with my own eyes."

The emphasis of this declaration sent a thrill of alarm through the frame of Jack Dudley, though it could not wholly destroy the exhilaration caused by the knowledge that Fred Greenwood was alive.