Two Boys in Wyoming Part 37

It would be impossible to convey a true idea of the manner of Hank Hazletine when he uttered these words. He nodded his head, clinched his free hand, and his eyes seemed to flash fire.

"Do you mean to kill him, Hank?"

"O, no," was the scornful response; "I'm going to take his hand and tell him how much I love him. I'll wipe the paint off one cheek, so as to make room fur a brotherly kiss. I'll send him to your folks, that you may have him for a playmate. He'll be so sweet and nice among the little younkers. _That's_ what I'll do with dear Motoza!"

It was impossible not to read the terrible purpose that lay behind all this. The boys made no mistake. Jack Dudley shuddered, but was silent.

He knew the miscreant richly merited the threatened retribution, and yet he wished it were not impending.

Surely, if anyone was justified in calling down vengeance upon the head of the vagrant Sioux it was his victim--he who had felt his hatred, and whose physical sufferings must remind him of the same for weeks to come.

But Fred Greenwood was in a gracious and forgiving mood. His heart throbbed when he recalled what he had so recently pa.s.sed through, but he could not lose sight of the blessed fact that he _had_ pa.s.sed through it all. He was with his beloved comrade again, not much the worse for his experience. In truth he was a little homesick, and was stirred with sweet delight at the thought that, if all went well, he should be with his parents within the coming week.

And yet he was oppressed by the thought that one of the results of his short visit to Wyoming was to be the death of a human being. He was sure he could never shake off the remembrance, and should he ever wish to return in the future to renew his hunt under more favorable conditions, the memory would haunt him. It mattered not that the wretch deserved to be executed for the crime, in the commission of which he had been interrupted before he could complete it. He was a savage, a heathen, a barbarian, who was following the light as he understood it. Why, therefore, should not mercy be shown to him?

There are many things which Jack Dudley and Fred Greenwood have done during their youthful lives that are creditable to them, but there is none which gives the two greater pleasure than the remembrance of the moral victory gained in their argument with Hank Hazletine. Fred opened the plea, and his comrade quickly rallied to his help. Their aim was to convince their guide that it was wrong for him to carry out his purpose regarding the Sioux. That the fellow should be punished was not to be questioned, but it should be done in a legitimate way and by the const.i.tuted authorities. Hazletine insisted that the conditions were such that Motoza would never be thus punished, at least not to the extent he ought to be; therefore, it was the duty of Hazletine to attend to the matter himself.

The argument lasted for two hours. The boys were able, bright and ingenious, but they had _truth_ on their side, and by and by the grim cowman showed signs of weakening. What knocked the props from under him was the fact which he was compelled to admit that the Sioux was only following the teachings he had received from infancy; that he lacked the light and knowledge with which Hazletine had been favored; that it was the duty of the white people to educate, civilize and Christianize the red men, who have been treated with cruel injustice from the very discovery of our country.

It cannot be said that the guide yielded with good grace, but yield he did, and the victory was secured. He pledged the boys not to offer any harm to Motoza for his last crime, and indeed would never harm him, unless it should become necessary in self defence.

"But I s'pose you hain't any 'bjection to my giving the laugh to Bill?"

he said, with ludicrous dismay; "there ain't nothing wrong in _that_, is there?"

"Nothing at all," replied the pleased Fred; "we shall enjoy it as much as you."

"Which the same being the case, it's time you went to sleep; I'll keep watch and call you when I git ready."

Bidding their friend good-night, the boys wrapped themselves in their blankets and speedily sank into slumber.

The kind-hearted guide did not disturb either, and when they opened their eyes the sun was in the sky. Fred Greenwood was in a bad shape with his swollen and lacerated feet, but his naturally rugged frame recovered rapidly from the trying strain to which it had been subjected.

He proved that his appet.i.te was as vigorous as ever, and was eager to reach the ranch with the least possible delay. Hank promised him no time should be wasted.

A lookout was kept for Bill Tozer, the boys remaining in the cavern, where they could not be seen. There was the possibility, of course, that the man had learned of the escape of the young prisoner, but all doubt was removed when, at the appointed time, he appeared on the edge of the plateau and strode confidently to the point where Hazletine, just outside the cavern, awaited his coming.

The two shook hands and immediately got down to business. The scamp felt that he commanded the situation and he was disposed to push matters.

"I've been thinking over what you said yesterday," remarked the guide, "and have made up my mind that I can't do it."

"You can't, eh? It's the only thing you _can_ do; Motoza insists that the price shall be ten thousand dollars, but I'll stick by the original agreement and call it half that sum."

"Let me see," said the cowman, thoughtfully; "you promise to give us back the younker safe and sound, provided his friends hand you five thousand dollars?"

"That's it; you understand the whole business. You know, of course, Hank, that I'm only acting as the friend----"

"Don't git over any more of that stuff, Bill. Are we to give you the money afore you produce the younker?"

"Certainly; that's the only way to do business."

"S'pose you bring him, and then I'll ask his folks if they want to make you a present of five thousand dollars--how'll _that_ work?"

Tozer broke into laughter.

"You ought to be ashamed to talk such nonsense. The only way by which you can see your young friend again is to hand us the money, give a pledge not to ask any questions or try to punish Motoza or me----"

The jaw of the man suddenly dropped and he ceased speaking, for at that moment he saw Jack Dudley and his limping companion walk out from the cavern and smilingly approach.

The whole truth flashed upon him. He was outwitted as he had never been outwitted before in all his life. Without speaking a syllable, he wheeled around and started at a rapid stride across the plateau toward the point where he had first appeared, with feelings which it is impossible to imagine.

And didn't Hank Hazletine "give him the laugh?" He bent over with mirth, staggering backward until he had to place his hand against the side of the cavern to save himself from falling. It really seemed as if his uproarious mirth must have penetrated a mile in every direction, and it did not cease until some minutes after the discomfited victim had disappeared. Jack and Fred laughed, too, until their sides ached; and who shall deny that there was not full cause for their merriment?

An hour later, the ponies, saddled and bridled, were threading their way out of the foot-hills for the ranch, which was reached without further incident. There the boys remained several days until Fred had recovered to a large extent from his hurts, when they rode to the station at Fort Steele, where they shook hands with the honest Hank Hazletine and bade him good-by.

And thus it came about that on the first Monday in the following November Jack Dudley and Fred Greenwood were in their respective seats at school, as eager and ambitious to press their studies as they had been to visit Bowman's ranch, in Southwestern Wyoming, in which ranch, by the way, they advised Mr. Dudley to retain his half-ownership.

"It's worth all it cost you, father," said Jack, "and perhaps one of these days you will want the V. W. W. to go out and take another look at it."

"Perhaps," was the dubious reply of the parent.