CHAPTER III.

THE FLIGHT FROM THE CLIFF.

As the severed cords of rawhide dropped about his feet, Comanche Tony leaped from the tree to which he had been tied, swinging his arms like a flail.

"By my scalp! it feels good to be able to move 'em," he declared. "I begun to think I'd never git the chance to use 'em again. I ain't never been bound afore.

"You come jest in the nick of time, Jess. An' perhaps the old battle cry didn't sound good to my ears."

"I reckon it did," assented the bandit-chieftain.

All the while the two outlaws had been walking toward where the rest of the notorious band were standing, making an examination of their wounds.

"Any of the bucks' shots get you fellows bad?" asked the bandit-chieftain, anxiously, as he swept the little group with his eyes.

"Sam's got it the worst," returned Frank.

Muttering an imprecation, Jesse strode to where Dirks was standing.

"Where'd they hit you, Sam?" he asked.

"In the shoulder, the right one."

With tender fingers, the world-famous desperado cut away the blood-soaked clothes, while his men gathered about to learn the extent of their pal's injuries.

As the red, angry looking flesh was exposed to view, they uttered various exclamations.

One and all of them had seen enough wounds to know that this was serious. But to learn just how bad it was they awaited their leader's announcement.

"That sure is a nasty one," declared Jesse in a few moments. "The shoulder blade's shattered."

"It's too much for me to attempt to fix up. I'll just put a bandage round it and then you'll have to go to some town where there's a sawbones.

"He'll probably say you'll have to lose your arm."

The words evoked groans from the others as Sam wailed:

"And it's me best arm, too. What good'll I be with only one fin left? I wish the devils had a killed me."

"Nonsense, man! Buck up! You can shoot with your left hand and when you get into a fight there won't be so much of you to hit."

This lugubrious consolation did not reconcile Sam to the prospective loss of his good right arm, however, and all through the time his leader was dressing the injury he lamented his fate.

The wounds of the others, though painful, were not serious.

Bud, Bob and Frank had all been hit in their legs.

"I reckon you three," said Jesse, addressing the last named, "had better be the ones to take Sam to the Sawbones.

"He can't go alone, and if we should be obliged to make any hard rides, it wouldn't help the holes in your legs any."

Loudly the trio protested.

"But suppose we run into the soldiers?" queried Bob. "Four of us, with Sam worse than useless won't be able to do anything against 'em and we'll get pinched and run to the nearest fort. And you know what that means," he added significantly.

"For my part I'd rather stay with you-all and take my chances on my legs mortifying."

But the bandit-chieftain was not to be moved.

"I know it's a chance," he replied. "You've got to take it, though. Sam's got to be taken to a sawbones and somebody's got to go with him.

"If you do meet the cavalrymen, you can tell 'em you-all had a run in with a bunch of men.

"That'll make 'em think it's me you met and they'll swallow the bait.

"You can describe us exactly and give 'em a steer as to where you met us, only be sure you send them in the wrong direction.

"If you only work it right, you'll be able to put the soldiers on the wrong track and get yourselves clear.

"Why, it's a cinch."

"If it's so mighty easy, why don't you go with the boys and let me stay?" demanded Frank.

"Because they have my description too close," returned his brother. "It's dollars to a piece of hard tack they'd recognize me the minute they got their eyes on me.

"And then it would be all up with little Willie."

Jesse's argument was too cogent to admit of further dispute and, much against their will, the quartette of wounded outlaws accepted the decree of separation.

But it was not ordained that the plan should be put into effect.

The last of the wounds inflicted upon the bandits by the bullets of the redskins was being dressed when Comanche Tony came up to Jesse.

The old Indian fighter who, alone of all, had not been injured for the reason that he had been tied to the stake and was therefore prevented from taking any part in the furious encounter, had taken advantage of the pre-occupation of his pals to make a little reconnaisance on his own account.

Familiar with the habits of the redmen, he believed from the fact that he had seen no ponies in the canyon that the bucks were not far from some of the villages of their tribe.

Convinced of this, the bandit reasoned that the braves would return for re-enforcements with which to avenge the slaughter, and it was to learn if there were any campfires to be seen below, over the farther side of the top of the cliff, that he had left his companions.

To the east, as he peered through the bushes that lined the edge of the cliff, he caught sight of a flickering light that came and went like the spasmodic radiance of a fire-fly.

For a few minutes he had stood staring at the curious sight, in bewilderment.

Of a sudden, its meaning came to him.

When it did, he turned on his heel and made his way to his chief, eager to tell him of his discovery.

"What is it, Tony?" asked the world-famous desperado, as he caught sight of the excited countenance of his chum. "You look like a woman who's just heard a choice bit of scandal!

"What did you discover? I saw you sneaking into the brush."

The fact that his scouting expedition had been known to his master caused the old Indian fighter's face to fall, for he had thought that his going had been unnoticed.

"Poke fun at me if you want to," he retorted. "You may not git the chance to laugh again for some time."

The seriousness of their pal's tone hushed the hilarity on the outlaws' lips.

Yet before he had the opportunity to explain his words, Wild Bill cried:

"Look! Look! To the north! Quick!"

Believing their fellow had caught sight of the redskins coming back, the desperadoes wheeled like a flash, whipping out their shooting irons at the same time.

But it was not Indians they saw.

Hastily raising their eyes, when they found that it was no skulking figures that had called forth Wild Bill's excited exclamation, they were just in time to see a shower of seeming stars dropping through the air.

"It's a falling meteor!" ejaculated Bob Moore.

Believing it was, indeed, some of those phenomena so common on the plains, the outlaws gazed at the spectacular sight.

But the bandit-chieftain did not share their opinion.

"Dropping meteor nothing," he exclaimed. "Have you fellows all gone nutty that you can't recognize a falling rocket?

"You've seen enough of them, I should think."

"That's just what I was goin' to say," declared the bandit who had been the one to call the attention of his fellows. "When I first saw it, them white stars was a green ball."

"Then it's a signal," ejaculated Bud.

"My eye! but you're the wise guys," grunted Jesse.

"Of course it's a signal. You didn't think it was old Great Bear giving a fireworks display in our honour, did you?

"It's a signal, all right, all right, and it's from those cavalry fellows, too.

"Injuns don't go round carrying a stock of rockets in their belts.

"Now the thing to do is to find out what point of the compass they're signalling to."

With alacrity, the outlaws faced about, some gazing in one direction and some in another.

Not long were they obliged to wait to learn the answer to their leader's question, however.

Scarcely had the shower of sparks vanished than one of them sang out: "Here she comes, from the East, boys!"

But the words had no more than left his lips than another shouted:

"They're answering from the south, too!"

Rapidly Jesse and his men whirled, viewing first the rocket to the east and then to the south.

"Jumpin' snakes! They've got us surrounded!" gasped Texas Jack.

"You're wrong, pard," interposed Bob. "They haven't quite surrounded us yet. There's been no rocket from the West."

"And that's the side of the canyon where our horses are. Were sure in luck. I reckon it's a good thing we had this brush with the redskins. It's showed us where the sojers are," chimed in Homely Harry, not wishing to let the others get ahead of him.

"After them rockets, we kin ride dead West an' git away. If it hadn't been for the Injuns we might a rid right into some of the sojers."

"Come on! We'll go down and get the ponies while we have the chance," cried Frank, moving toward the edge of the cliff.

Ere he had taken more than a few strides in the carrying out of his purpose, Jesse's voice rang out:

"Hold on; don't be in such a hurry!

"_If any of you show yourself on the edge of the cliff, I'll drop you in your tracks!_"

In amazement those of the outlaws who had started after Frank, stopped and turned toward their leader, their surprise evident in their faces.

"What's the reason we can't get the horses?" snapped the elder of the James boys. "Speak lively! You're wasting valuable time!"

"It's better to waste time than our lives, isn't it?" returned his brother, with a deliberation that was exasperating to the highly wrought bandits.

"You ought to know better, Frank.

"I reckon Texas hit it right when he said we were surrounded!"

"Then why didn't the men in the West send up a rocket?" demanded the elder of the James boys.

"_Because they're on our trail!_"

This statement produced a profound sensation among the bandits and quickly they plied Jesse with questions as to his reasons for making it, that is, all but Frank, who, with a sneer started toward the edge of the cliff to find out for himself, though it was eloquent testimony for his secret regard for his brother's intuition that he dropped to his belly and approached the precipice with all the caution of which he was master.

Smiling as he saw this indication of alarm, Jesse addressed the others:

"It's an old trick among troopers, one that will be well for you to remember in the future, when they are on a search, for the squad that's hit the trail not to answer the rocket signals of the others.

"If the men they're hunting happen to see the rockets in every direction but one, they'll naturally make the move Homely suggested--ride away in the direction from which there was no signal--and fall right into the trap!

"I had a close call once--before I got wise. That's how I happen to know.

"How near the troopers on the west are to us, of course I can't tell.

"But they're not very far off. They've hit our trail in the canyon and--"

"They're right down at the foot of the cliff examining the dead campfires the Injuns left," interrupted Frank.

"You doped it right, Jess, I'll have to admit."

So engrossed had the others been in listening to the bandit-chieftain that they had not seen Frank as he returned from his reconnaisance, and the effect of his words, melodramatic as was the manner in which they fitted in, struck consternation to their hearts.

Enjoying the sensation he had caused, the elder of the James Boys continued:

"They've corralled our ponies, I could see one of the sojers leading 'em.

"The moon against the walls of the cliff makes it pretty near as light as day down at the bottom."

"We _are_ in a mess," grunted Bob. "Injuns on one side of us and sojers on all the others. Looks as though this top of the cliff was going to be our burying ground."

"Between the two, the way things is, I reckon I'd ruther tackle the Injuns, eh, Jess?" interposed Comanche Tony, hurriedly, ere his chief could say another thing.

"When I was peerin' through the bush on tother side of this table of rocks, I see'd a campfire with a lot of Injuns cuttin' up round it.

"At fust, I couldn't git on to wot it meant, then I tumbled that it's a war dance.

"I'll bet my scalp, them bucks wot got away from us ull hipper over to the pow-wow to bring 'em back here, thinkin' we'll either be on top, as we be, or down in the canyon, as we was."

"But they'd see the rockets," protested Bud.

"Wot of it? They ain't got no Jess James with 'em to put 'em next to the signal trick an' they'll think there ain't no one to the West."

"Findin' we ain't on top, they'll start down into the canyon.

"Then, if we has _any_ luck at all, the sojers ull jump 'em and they'll have a fine old set-to while we're doin' the sneak act."

"Good boy, Tony. You've got the right dope. Come on, boys! It's time for us to be lighting out," cried the world-famous desperado.

"Can you walk, Sam, or do you want us to make a sling for you?"

"I cal'late I can walk, for awhile anyhow."

"All right. If we stay here too long the soldiers may find the trail and climb up here.

"They heard the shooting, of course, and I reckon they'll be curious to find out what it was about.

"If they only do, and Tony has it right about the bucks going for re-enforcements, when they see the redskins coming from the brush, they'll start shooting. So we'll win out, which ever way it happens."

Quickly and silently the outlaws entered the fringe of bushes along the top at the opposite side of the cliff, descending by the trail which Wild Bill and Texas Jack had found while the bandit-chieftain had been talking.

With every sense alert, the outlaws proceeded, increasing their caution as they approached nearer and nearer to the bottom.

To their delight, they beheld a heavy patch of fir trees at the foot.

But just as they were within a rod of it, they were startled to hear a voice cry, faintly:

"Jess Jame! Jess Jame!"

In consternation, the desperadoes looked at one another.

Whether the calling of the name was a lure of the Indians, who, returning, had seen the men filing down the cliff and planned another ambush or what it betoken they could not tell.

"We're in for it now, for fair," growled Frank.

And as though to give emphasis to his words, a shout of triumph sounded from above them, and looking up, they beheld the forms of a score of cavalrymen silhouetted against the sky.