CHAPTER XXVII.

FRED’S STORY, CONCLUDED.

“BELIEVING that some of the members of this band of robbers knew where father was,” continued White-horse Fred, “I watched for an opportunity to join it, and finally succeeded in my object. I became one of the runners, or couriers; that is, it was my duty to convey orders and the stolen property from one point to another. It was a subordinate position, although I ran just as much risk as Sanders, or any other member of the band who did the stealing, and I knew that as long as I held it I could not hope to learn much of the secret business of the organization; consequently I worked hard for promotion, and, if I am to believe what I have been told, I did some reckless things. At any rate, it wasn’t long before the name of White-horse Fred became pretty well known about here. I have been chased and shot at by soldiers and settlers more times than I can remember, and I have been in the fort when the officers were talking about me and laying plans for my capture.”

“Why didn’t they recognize you?” asked Julian.

“I didn’t say that _I_ was well known, did I? I said my _name_ was. The officers didn’t know who I was—that’s the reason they didn’t recognize me. There were only five men who knew me by the name I bore—Smirker, and the four fellows at Hale’s rancho. No one dreamed that White-horse Fred and the apparition who kept Uncle Reginald’s rancho in such an uproar were one and the same person, and I had emphatic orders from Silas and Juan never to reveal myself. Everybody had heard of the queer doings at Uncle Reginald’s, and it was whispered about among the robbers that Fred Mortimer and old Juan had risen from their graves to torment their murderers. I was in hopes that we would soon frighten Reginald away; but he had come there after father’s money, and he was determined he would not go until he got it.

“All this while—my story has now covered the space of more than seven years—Reginald was keeping father closely confined in some hidden prison, hoping to break his spirit and force him to tell where his money was concealed. But father remained firm, and Reginald became tired of waiting at last, and so did Sanders. The latter finally thought up another plan by which to obtain possession of the treasure, and when he had matured it he went to Reginald to talk it over.

“Old Juan, who was always on the watch, saw him go into the rancho, and believing that he had some private business to transact that it might be well for him to overhear, he went into the passage-way, opened the secret door that led into Reginald’s sleeping-room, and set himself to listen. We afterward learned that there was another listener to that conversation, and it was Richard. He and Reginald were now at open enmity. He never made his appearance at the rancho in the day-time, but loitered about there of nights, searching everywhere for the money, and taking notes of all that was going on—and I ought to say right here that Richard and Sanders, who had hitherto been fast friends, had a falling out. Richard, for some reasons of his own, did not want his cousin to know that you were alive. Sanders and Smirker were the only ones beside himself who were acquainted with the secret, and as soon as they found out that he wanted it kept from Reginald’s knowledge they demanded yellow boys as the price of their silence. Richard supplied their wants as long as he could, but at last his funds were exhausted and he could obtain no more. Sanders had been expecting this, and having pumped Richard’s pockets dry, he deserted him and went over to Reginald.

“‘Capen,’ said Sanders, when he and Reginald had locked themselves in the bed-room in which their private interviews were always held, ‘I’m gettin’ monstrous tired of waitin’ fur a sight o’ them big nuggets. The old major’s never goin’ to give in—he’ll die fust.’

“‘I am afraid so,’ replied Reginald; ‘but what can I do more than I have done? It is a very easy thing to deprive a man of his liberty, but it’s quite a different matter to make him open his mouth when he’s determined he won’t. If we had only been smart enough to keep the boys alive, we could have worked on his feelings through them. But he knows they are dead, and that’s what makes him so desperate.’

“‘I know nary one of ’em hain’t dead,’ replied Sanders. ‘I mean, you see——’

“‘Yes, I know what you mean. You mean that they are both dead, but that one of them has come back and walks around nights,’ said Reginald, looking all about the room as if he expected to see something frightful. ‘But you haven’t seen the other—Julian—have you.’

“‘No; but I know he’s alive. Oh, it’s a fact,’ added Sanders, seeing by the expression on Reginald’s face that he was hardly prepared to believe this. ‘He wasn’t never hurt at all. Fred was flung into the lake and drownded—an’ I don’t see why in creation he don’t stay thar—but Julian wasn’t.’

“And with this preface, Sanders went on to tell what Richard had done with you, and why he had saved you alive. He said that from some remarks Richard had accidentally let fall he had learned pretty nearly where you could be found, and added that for a suitable consideration he would produce you.

“‘An’ when we get him out here, capen, we’ll have two strings to our bow,’ continued Sanders. ‘I don’t go in very strong fur attemptin’ to work on the feelin’s of the major—leastways not till we have tried something else—’cause he’s awfully hard-headed, an’ when he onct makes up his mind to a thing he’s as sot as one of the Rocky Mountains. Thar’s one other man in the world who knows whar the nuggets is hid, an’ if we can get hold of him, I b’lieve we can make _him_ open his mouth. It’s Silas Roper. You see, him an’ old Juan used to do purty much as they pleased here in the major’s time, an’ they knowed all about his private business matters. Juan would be the best one to work on, ’cause he hain’t got Silas’s grit, but he hain’t come back here in sich shape that we can manage him.’

“‘But we don’t know where Silas is,’ said Reginald.

“‘Never mind. He’s about here somewhar, an I’ll bet a hoss onto it. An’ I’ll bet on another thing, too: As soon as Silas finds out that we’ve got Julian here he’ll come out of his hidin’-place, an’ we can captur’ him. Understand my plan, don’t you?’

“Reginald did understand it, and gave it his hearty approval. He spent an hour talking the matter over with Sanders, giving him some very minute instructions, so that there could be no possible chance for failure, and brought the interview to an end by telling him a long list of lies to be repeated to you, and furnishing him money to bear his expenses to the States.”

“I have often wondered what object Sanders could have had in misrepresenting things as he did,” remarked Julian.

“I can tell you. Reginald thought it very probable that you had been left in some thickly settled part of the country, and he was afraid that Sanders, if left to himself, might attempt to carry you away by force. By doing that he might have aroused the settlers and the officers of the law in the neighborhood, and thus defeated his plans. If he had once succeeded in getting you out on the prairie away from everybody, he would have thrown off his mask and appeared in his true character very quickly.

“Sanders started for the States that very night, and so did Richard. The latter was determined that if he could not possess father’s money nobody should, and he hoped to reach your hiding-place in advance of Sanders, and dispose of you so effectually that you never could be found. Old Juan told Silas about it when he came in from the mountains, and he also started for the States, intending to wait for you at St. Joe, and to take charge of you if Sanders brought you there. He succeeded in getting hold of you at last, and brought you to the mountains. Richard, finding himself outwitted, joined your train in disguise, hoping to find an opportunity to shoot you during the journey, while Sanders came on ahead and raised a band of Indians to attack the train. He had been promised $5,000 if he would deliver you into Reginald’s hands, and that money he was determined to have. Our affairs have been pretty well mixed up for the last eight years, but this night will see them straightened out again.”

“I certainly hope so. But, Fred, why didn’t Silas, when he found me, tell me that he was a friend, and that he would assist me?”

“He did tell you that. If he had told you more, would you have believed him? Hadn’t Sanders deceived you and made you suspicious of everybody? When you and Silas were sitting on the steps of the hotel in St. Joe, and he told you that he knew who you were, didn’t you jump up and run away from him? The old fellow isn’t much given to talking anyhow. He believes in actions rather than words. You know that he was captured by Sanders and some of his band on the night the train was attacked, and that he escaped from them the next morning.”

“What would Reginald have done to him if he had been brought to the rancho?”

“He would have tried to force him to tell where father’s money was hidden, and if he had refused, as he certainly would have done, that would have been the last of Silas. Then Reginald would have used you to frighten father, telling him that he had you in his power, and that if he didn’t tell where that money was he would do something dreadful to you.”

“What was Reginald’s object in treating me so kindly? Why didn’t he keep me a close prisoner?”

“Why, he wanted to make Silas Roper show himself, so that he could be captured. That could never be done by shutting you up. The best way was to give you full swing, and allow you to roam about as much as you pleased, for then Silas would be sure to see you, and you would sooner or later get into the habit of meeting him regularly; and when that state of affairs had been brought about, it would be but little trouble for Sanders and some of his band to surprise and capture Silas. In order to make you contented and willing to stay with him, Reginald provided you with every comfort, and told you that story about your being the sole heir to the property. He thought that would serve as well as bolts and bars to keep you about the rancho, for no boy in full possession of his senses would be likely to run away while he believed that he had a million or two in prospect.

“I was out riding my route on the night you arrived, but old Juan was on the watch as usual, and he knew when you were brought into the rancho. He frightened Richard, and made him abandon the idea of carrying you off to the mountains; and when you fell down in a swoon, he and Romez took you back to your room and put you to bed. It was Juan who wrote the note you received, and opened your windows the next morning before you awoke.”

“I shall never forget how surprised I was to find that some one had been in there,” observed Julian.

“When I visited Juan the next morning I found Silas with him. They told me what had happened the night before, adding that you had just gone out riding on Snowdrop. I was very much disappointed, for I had hoped to meet you as soon as you arrived. You see, to explain how you came by that mare, I make my home with Antoine, the herdsman. When I return from Hale’s I generally go there and leave my horse, and then set off to visit old Juan. Yesterday morning when I went home I found Snowdrop missing, and Antoine told me that Reginald had taken her. He gave her to you, and that one move on his part did us more good than eight years’ hard work has done.

“I had an encouraging piece of news for Silas. Smirker had told me that he knew where father was confined, and the trapper and I, after talking the matter over, decided to arrest him, and force the secret from him. On the same day he told me this he communicated to me another piece of news, and that was that he had two holes to his burrow, and a way of escape to be made use of in case of an attack from the soldiers or settlers; and thinking that if we concluded to make a raid on him when Silas came home, it might be well enough to know where that other hole to his burrow was, I spent one whole day in looking for it. I discovered it at last, and when I came down through it and burst into his cabin, Smirker was so angry that he had half a mind to shoot me.”

“He told me about that,” said Julian. “But did he never suspect your identity?”

“Never until this morning; and then he did not suspect me at first, but you. He was one of those who threw me into the lake, and when he learned that I wouldn’t stay there, and that I had come back to Reginald’s rancho, and was cutting up dreadful shines, he became badly frightened. He often talked to me about it, and acknowledged that he was afraid that the “haunt,” as he called it, might take it into his head to visit his cabin. When he saw us together this morning, and found out that one of us was a Mortimer, he knew the other must be also, for he says we look exactly alike, and so does Silas. Hale and his crowd must also see a very strong resemblance, or else you never could have passed yourself off for me in that rancho, where they are constantly on the lookout for treachery. Smirker believed that you were White-horse Fred, and also that you were Fred Mortimer, and the discovery he thought he had made alarmed him greatly. He breathed much more freely after you had gone out, and so did I.

“For myself I should have felt no fears, had it not been for one thing. I had with me a bag containing nuggets, dust and money, which I was to deliver to Smirker; if he searched me and found that bag in my pocket, he would know that I had deceived him—that I was the real White-horse Fred—and my life wouldn’t be worth a moment’s purchase. I tried to dispose of the bag, but he detected me in the act, and the result was just what I expected. He called me a traitor, told me that my time had come, and was on the very point of making his words good when Silas appeared. He came down the secret passage-way that leads from the top of the cliff, and arrived just in time.

“We tied Smirker, put him on a horse, and started to carry him to our cave. As it was rather early—we make it a point never to go in and out of the cellar during the day-time—we dismounted to wait until it should grow dark. While we were sitting in our place of concealment, Richard came down the ravine, and I knew that he was about to make another attempt to capture you. I hurried down the mountain, reached the cellar before him, held a short consultation with Juan, called Romez out of the stable to assist us, and by the time Richard arrived we had a nice little surprise in store for him. I poured a bucket of water over my head—that was to make me look as if I had just come out of the lake, you know—and Juan, who had on the same clothes he wore on the night he was thrown over the cliff, made himself hideous by putting a little red paint on his forehead. Romez perched himself upon the top of the cellar wall with my dark-lantern in his hand, which, by the aid of green cloth and a wide band of birch bark around the bull’s-eye, was so arranged that it would reflect only a narrow streak of green light; and when Richard came in Juan and I were walking across the cellar with the light shining full in our faces. He had come prepared for just such an emergency as this, and drawing his Derringers from his pocket, he fired them both at Juan; but finding that the old fellow didn’t fall as he expected he would, he threw down his weapons and took to his heels. I’ve got them now,” added White-horse Fred, drawing the Derringers from his boots. “I may have a chance to try them on Joe Hale to-night, and if I do he’ll _drop_. There are bullets in them this time.”

“Were there no bullets in them before?”

“Not when they were fired at Juan. You see, Richard is too much of a gentleman to do anything for himself that he can make another do for him. He thinks Ithuriel, his servant, can be trusted to any extent, but, as it happens, he is one of the best friends we have, and it is through him that we have learned so much about Richard and his doings. Richard told him to load his Derringers very carefully, adding that he wanted them to shoot something that had appeared to him the night before. Ithuriel, knowing very well what that something was, charged the pistols heavily with powder, but put in no bullets. He came straight down to Juan, and told him what he had done, and so when Richard pointed his pistols at us, we were not afraid of them. I guess now I have told—— Halloo! There he is. Come on, Julian.”

Fred, bringing his story to a sudden close, put spurs to his horse, and dashed away at the top of his speed.