Chapter XX: An Astonishing Discovery

“Hurrah!”

Bob could not keep from giving voice to his delight in this way. He saw Frank tugging at some object, and then throw it on his shoulder.

“Keep right along up, Bob; and don’t let him pull the wool over your eyes. We may want to take him to Phoenix yet, and hand him over to the marshal,” was what Frank was saying.

Bob could hear the man give a dismal grunt. He had not suspected the presence of others when he started to work this trick on his former comrades, with the idea of making off with the gold they had secured.

In this way, then, they retraced their way upward. Bob would never have dreamed that they had covered such a distance in the short space of time they had been pursuing the escaping thief. But then, it had been all down-hill, and the desire to get away had caused the man to cover ground at a lively rate.

Frank had found the little stream again. He was making use of it to keep in a direct line for the lone shack, located somewhere beyond.

Once the man made an effort to break away, as though his fears overcame his discretion. But Bob was “on the job,” as he said himself. He did not lose his grip of the fellow, despite the abruptness of the wrench. And, remembering his instructions from Frank, he threw out his foot, and tripped the man, who fell heavily.

Frank came springing back in an instant.

“What’s going on here, Bob?” he demanded.

“He tried it, just as you said he might!” replied the other, breathlessly.

“And you tripped him, was that it?”

“Listen to him grunt, will you?” said Bob, feeling a little compassion for the man, who had come down quite hard.

Frank still had matches left, and striking one of these he bent over to find out how seriously the prisoner was hurt.

“You’re lucky only to have a few bruises, and a nose bleed,” he declared, presently, after he had investigated. “Perhaps you’ll understand now that even if we are boys, my chum and I mean to hold on to you. Now, get up, and don’t you try that sort of game again, if you know what’s good for you.”

He helped the fellow get on his feet. There was an air of dejection about the man now, as though he had really come to the conclusion that the net had closed in around him, and he would have to “throw up his hands.”

“I’m done!” he muttered. “I was foolish to try it on. An’ ketched by a pair o’ kids, too!”

That last exclamation seemed to size up the whole bitterness of the situation. Had it been grown men who had effected his capture, evidently the fellow would not have felt so keenly about his misfortune; but he evidently wondered how he could ever hold up his head among his fellows again, after allowing a couple of boys to down him.

Several minutes later Frank called out:

“I see the light again, Bob. Keep going, and we’ll be there soon!”

“I’m glad of it,” declared the Kentucky boy, with a sigh; for he was pretty nearly exhausted with fatigue and excitement.

Pretty soon even Bob caught sight of the gleam of light that came from the window of the lone shack, where Reddy and his partner in the robbery of the mine had their headquarters.

Then Bob’s mind flew back to the last glimpse he had had of that interior, at the time the fellow dashed out of the door, with the bag on his back, and they took up the chase.

He remembered distinctly now that Blaisdell had seemed to be lying senseless on the floor over in a corner, where he had been knocked during the fight. The other robber, he who had engineered the whole affair from start to finish, had been almost equally helpless under the knee of the second intruder, the companion of the man they chased down the hillside.

And Bob also recollected that, as Frank led the way in hot pursuit, he had called out to Mr. Riley to take charge at the shack. That would possibly mean he was to enter the little cabin, and attack the fellow who was pressing Reddy down.

How would they find matters on their arrival? Had the ex-superintendent of the Cherry Blossom mine been able to obtain the mastery of the situation? Bob had in times past heard certain stories about Mr. Riley that stamped him as a brave man. The fact that he had barricaded himself in the engine-house, and was defying the striking miners, went to prove this fact.

Yet as they drew near the shack Bob confessed to himself that some of his former nervousness had returned. He wondered whether he and Frank would become embroiled in another affair with some of these lawless men. Bob hoped not. Though ready to do his duty, and willing to stand back of his chum in his effort to recover the treasure that had been taken from the mine, Bob did not find any delight in scenes of turmoil and fighting.

Frank, carrying the bag on his shoulder, approached the shack with confidence. Evidently he trusted Mr. Riley fully, and did not allow the slightest suspicion that the other could have made a failure of his part in the game to enter his mind.

The first thing that Bob noticed was the ominous stillness that seemed to hang over the place. He did not know whether this might be favorable or not.

“Frank, do you think they all got away; and what could have happened to Mr. Riley?” he could not help asking.

“Don’t you bother about Mr. Riley,” laughed his chum; “when the count is made up, you’ll sure find him on deck, and carrying things with a high hand. Bring your man right along in, Bob. Here we are!”

They had turned the corner of the shack, and the open door stood before them. While passing the window Bob had been sorely tempted to turn his eyes aside, in order to take a look; but a stern sense of his duty made him pause. For he had a faint suspicion that should he slacken in watchfulness over his prisoner, the man was desperate enough to make another attempt at flight, even though his arms were bound.

“Oh! Mr. Riley did it, as sure as anything!” was the exclamation that broke from Bob’s lips, involuntarily, as he stepped into the shack.

He saw the former mine superintendent standing over two men, who were on the floor. Looking a little farther Bob discovered that Blaisdell was sitting in the corner, nursing his head, as though it pained. None of the three rascals seemed to be in possession of a weapon of any kind, which would probably account for the little arsenal that lay on the floor close to Mr. Riley. He had seen to it that they were completely disarmed.

Noting all these things Bob gave a big sigh of relief. It began to look as though the end might be near. They had had a hard time of it. They had secured two of the three original thieves; and it appeared as if at least two-thirds of the spoils had been recovered!

No wonder, then, Bob was ready to throw up his hat, and yell. Something seemed to hold him back, however. Perhaps it was because his chum did not manifest any particular signs of being overjoyed.

Mr. Riley looked up as they came in, and his thin face was wreathed in a grim smile at seeing how Frank carried the missing bag; while Bob ushered the runaway thief into the shack.

“Got ’em both, eh, boys?” he greeted them with. “Now that’s what I call going some. And I reckon as how the Colonel will be proud of your carryin’s-on. Looks some snug in here, doesn’t it, Frank?”

There was something so comical in this last remark that Frank had to laugh. No doubt it did look “snug” from the standpoint of Mr. Riley; but the four men who had been “rounded up” so completely certainly gave no evidence of appreciating the situation. Scowls and black looks marked the faces of all of them.

Frank had dropped his sack alongside the other. Turning quickly he noticed the look Reddy cast, first at the pair of bags, and then at those who were now in complete possession.

“Sit down there with your friends!” Bob told the man who had run off with a part of the treasure.

Thus the quartette were ranged along the floor. Mr. Riley asked Frank to make use of some stout cord which he chanced to have in his pocket; and as none of the prisoners dared resist, the result was that inside of a few minutes all of them were rendered as helpless as the man Bob had brought back to the cabin.

“I want to shake hands with each of you boys,” he said, gravely, as he approached Frank; “and say that you’re sure a credit to Circle Ranch. If so be they run that way there, I’ll willingly accept the offer the Colonel makes me, an’ change bunks. And I reckon this boy from Kentucky is no more in the tenderfoot class after this!”

Reddy was still observing them with a queer expression on his face. It seemed as though the fellow might be trying hard to repress a grin. And considering how desperate his situation seemed, the fact that he could see any humor in things was indeed singular.

Perhaps, though, he was thinking how their victory must be incomplete because of the fact that one of the bags of treasure was still missing. That was what passed through Bob’s mind, at any rate, as he let his eye rest on the two sacks.

“Open one of these, while I take the other, Bob,” Frank said, as he dropped down on the floor beside the spoils.

Reddy’s grin grew still broader. He even tried to nudge Blaisdell with his elbow, although the effort proved a failure, owing to the fact that his arms were too securely bound to admit of any play.

Bob was only too willing to comply with the directions of his chum. He imagined that Frank wanted to learn whether the whole amount of stolen gold could have been crowded into two bags, instead of three; which was a possible way of dividing it, after their number had been reduced.

The first thing Bob thought, after he had dropped to the floor, and laid hands on the nearest bag, was the deception that existed about these things. For sixty pounds, perhaps nearer ninety, that little bag certainly felt light indeed. But then, possibly that might be only imagination.

He found that a stout cord had been passed several times around the mouth of the sack, and as a knot promised to baffle his efforts to undo it, the string was cut.

Bob opened the bag, fully expecting to discover the yellow glitter of gold. He stared, and then bent his head lower, as though hardly able to believe his eyes. Frank’s low laugh surprised him, and made him look up, to find his chum regarding him with an expression on his face that was a mixture of chagrin and humor.

“What did you draw, Bob?” he asked. “I seem to have a lot of packages that look as if they might hold flour, sugar, coffee, and such things; besides some tin cups, and a platter or two; a healthy lot of supplies for a prospector to start with.”

“Whew! same here,” gasped Bob, who had really never been more surprised in his life at making such a disappointing discovery. “Whatever can it mean, Frank; and what do you suppose they’ve done with the treasure they stole from the Cherry Blossom mine?”