Chapter 13

THE BANK OF SILVER BOW IS ROBBED

"It must have rained here since we left," observed Toady, as they drew near the town.

"Why?" asked Irene curiously.

"'Cause there's a puddle of water in that hollow rock and unless it had rained, how would it get there?"

"By Jove, the lad is right," muttered Decker Simmons to himself. "Queer we didn't get any at the canyon, though. Wonder what's the trouble ahead. Town seems excited. Do you suppose the new postmaster has embezzled his funds already?"

"Uncle Decker," Tabitha's voice interrupted his meditations.

"Yes?"

"Something must have happened in town while we were gone."

"Why?"

"Main street is full of people and the bank platform is black with them. Do you suppose there is another run on the bank, or can it have failed?"

"Why, so 'tis!" ejaculated the man, noting for the first time what Tabitha's keen eyes had seen,--that the greater crowd of the people were gathered in front of the Silver Bow Bank. "Wonder what's up."

"Hello, Simmons," called Dawley, the grocer, from his position in the doorway of his store. "You don't look as if you'd heard the news."

"No. Let's have it." The whole party halted and waited curiously.

"Bank robbed."

"You don't say so! When?"

"Saturday night."

"Get much?"

"Don't know yet, but reckon 'twas only a few hundred. Brinkley lost a lot of provisions, too, but fortunately his safe was empty."

"Well, I declare! Any clue?"

"Not so far. Rain wiped out all tracks that might have been made. Had a corker of a thunderstorm that night."

"Well, well! Now what do you think of that! What steps are you taking toward the capture of the thieves?"

"Posse out scouring the desert."

"Humph!"

"Well, what else can we do without clues?"

"_Find_ some clues. You'll never catch the rascals by scouring the desert with a handful of men. They must have gone into camp close by, or they would never have stocked up. Bet they are new at the business. _Must_ be to make a mistake like that. I'd laugh if they had never left town." And gathering up the reins, he drove on, followed by the cavalcade of burros.

The children were greatly excited. Burglaries in that lonely little desert town were unheard of, and this novel experience furnished food for their lively imaginations to feed upon. Tabitha was particularly impressed, for never before in her short life had a robbery occurred so near home, and she could think of little else. A reward of two hundred dollars had been offered for the capture of the thieves, and as soon as the little brood in the Eagles' Nest heard of this, they began to amuse themselves by telling how they would spend the money if by chance they could win the reward.

"I'd buy me a pony," said Toady, as they sat on the shady side of the house discussing the all-absorbing topic. "Ma said she never should get us another after Spotty kicked her when she struck it with the whip."

"I'd save it towards a motorcycle," declared Billiard boastfully. "No ponies for mine! With another hundred I could get a dandy machine, and then wouldn't you see me spinning about the country just as I pleased!"

"It would almost pay for another term at Ivy Hall," sighed Mercedes, who, though she never mentioned the matter, knew that the family purse was too flat to permit of her returning to her beloved school with the coming of September.

"I'd buy a little house in Los Angeles and go there to live," said Irene. "It must be pretty where there are real trees and flowers the year around."

"It's not your turn," Susie objected. "I'd buy--I'd buy--what _would_ I buy? There are so many things I want, but I b'lieve I'd go travelling. Two hundred dollars would take me quite a piece, and I'd see lots of big cities."

"And I'd go along," breathed Inez in ecstasy, "and we'd beat our way back on freight cars."

"Ho! That wouldn't be any fun," scoffed Rosslyn. "I'd buy candy, 'n' ice-cream, 'n' peanuts, 'n' popcorn."

"And a doctor," laughed Mercedes.

There was a pause, and seven pair of eyes turned expectantly toward Gloriana, who, perceiving the look, said shyly, "There are probably heaps of things I'd like to get for myself now and then, but I think the most of my two hundred would go to Granny Conover for taking care of me all those years. I'd like to see her have plenty of money to do as she pleased with before she dies."

"Wouldn't that be splendid?" cried the children, who were never tired of hearing the pitiful tale of Gloriana's life.

"Now, Tabitha," suggested Billiard. "Why, where _is_ Tabitha?"

"Gone to put Janie to bed, I guess," said Toady, seeing that the youngest member of the family was also missing. "It's her nap time."

But in reality, Tabitha was far down the mountainside, speeding like a deer in pursuit of a tiny, white-clad figure toddling in and out among the sagebrush and greasewood toward a forbidden playground, where, half-hidden by rocks and rubbish, were several unprotected prospect holes, mysterious and alluring to the investigative baby eyes. Even as Tabitha came within calling distance of the child, Janie discovered that she was being pursued, and quickened her steps into a run, heedless of the path she was taking, until with a shrill cry of fright, she slipped over the brink of one of the very holes she had stolen away to visit, and disappeared from sight.

"O, God, don't let her be killed!" prayed the black-eyed girl, and her feet fairly flew over the uneven ground, till she, too, reached the edge of the deep excavation. But before she could discover the plight of the runaway, she felt the ground give way beneath her feet, and echoing Janie's cry of alarm, she, too, shot out of sight. Fortunately, however, little sand fell with her, and as by a miracle, she landed free and clear of the frightened, sobbing, but unhurt figure crouching in the opposite corner.

Scrambling to her feet, she seized the scared baby in her arms, exclaiming over and over again, "Janie, Janie, are you sure you aren't killed?" till at length she had soothed the child's fright and had coaxed her into laughing again. "Now, Miss Mischief," she cried, setting the baby down and beginning to investigate their prison, "we must find some way out of this place. 'Tisn't very deep, to be sure; but the sides seem pretty crumbly, so I don't dare to climb out. I reckon we'll have to shout. Help, help, help!"

They screamed themselves hoarse, but no one came to answer their call, and Janie began to wail dismally, for the minutes seemed like hours to her, and she was tired and cross. "Never mind, honey," Tabitha comforted. "If they don't find us around the house by supper time, they will know something has gone wrong and send General to find us. Now let's amuse ourselves for a while, and then we'll shout again. Here is a stick. See if you can dig a deeper hole than I can. Why, what's this?"

Stooping over to pick up a fragment of redwood bark at her feet, she uncovered a small bag, which rattled as she touched it; and as she untied the drawstring, a shower of glittering gold pieces fell into her lap.

"Pennies!" cried Janie, making a dive for a share of the shining coins.

"Yes, dear, gold pennies, but Janie mustn't touch," answered Tabitha, busily sorting the money into various piles according to its denomination. "It doesn't belong to us, and we must take it to the-- Say, Janie McKittrick, what will you bet this isn't the money stolen from the bank Saturday night? Mr. Dawley said they got only a few hundred. Let's count it. One, two, three, four, five hundred dollars. Janie, that's just what we've found! The robbers didn't dare take it with them, and so hid it here, thinking it would be absolutely safe."

"Well, Tabitha Catt! Of all things! Look, girls, she's as calm and cool as if she had gone on a picnic, instead of tumbling into a prospect hole."

So intent had the two prisoners become in their find that neither had heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and as breathless Susie's voice rang out above their heads, both started guiltily.

"Why, how did you know where to look for us?" cried Tabitha, bouncing to her feet, and slipping the bag out of sight, lest the children see and ask questions.

"Well, when we couldn't find you about the house anywhere, Glory remembered that Janie had slipped off down the trail while we were talking, and so we decided that you must have chased her. Then Mercy happened to think of these holes. Janie is always possessed to play down here, and has run away three times before; so we came down to look, and here you are in the very first one," explained Susie.

"You hauled us out of the abandoned mine one day, and now we are going to fish you out of a prospect hole," exulted Billiard, much relieved to find the two girls unhurt, but unable to resist crowing a little over their mishap.

"How?" asked Tabitha, a frown of anxiety gathering in her forehead. "Don't get too near the edge there, or some of you may join us in our retreat. You must go for help. You can't get us out all alone."

"Mercy has gone for the assayer," began Inez.

"And here he is now," Billiard interrupted. "He has got a long board and a rope. Stand back, Irene, so you won't be in the way. There, now, Tabby, tie up the baby, and we'll lift her out first."

In a surprisingly short time, both girls were hoisted from the sultry pit and landed laughing gaily among their mates.

"Well," said the assayer, shaking his gray head in a puzzled fashion, "I don't understand how you kids work the stunt."

"What stunt?" they all inquired.

"Why, tumbling into every hole you come across and not getting hurt. You aren't hurt, are you?"

"No, indeed!"

"And Kitty finded a whole sack full of gold pennies down there, but her won't div Janie any," volunteered the baby quite unexpectedly.

"She--what?"

"Gold pennies!"

"What does she mean?"

The children lifted questioning eyes to Tabitha's crimson face, and even the assayer looked down at her curiously. She had not meant to let the children know about the money; at least, not until she had consulted older and wiser heads than theirs; but now that Janie had betrayed her secret, she displayed her find, and explained how it had come into her possession.

The assayer's eyes grew thoughtful, as he examined each coin minutely, and counted the treasure, to make sure that Tabitha's figures were right. "What shall you do with it?" he finally asked, as he dropped the last piece into the sack and returned it to Tabitha.

"Take it to the bank. I thought it might be part of the money the robbers got."

He glanced at her quickly, keenly; then answered, "That's the thing to do, all right, and I don't believe your surmise is far off, either. But see here, children, don't you dare lisp a word to a single soul about this money until we know for certain whose it is."

"We won't," hastily promised the wondering, round-eyed flock, for they stood much in awe of the silent, almost taciturn man who worked wonders with the rock which the miners brought him; and the little company set out for home, leaving Tabitha and the assayer to carry the precious find over to the bank.

"Do you know," said Gloriana, as the black-eyed girl finished relating the afternoon's happenings to her, "I half believe that man snooping around the pesthouse is the robber."

"What man?" demanded the startled Tabitha.

"Well, I don't know who he is, but it is someone I've never seen here in town. He was there this morning, but I didn't think much about it then. We were so excited over the robbery. But this afternoon while the assayer was dragging you out of the prospect hole, and I was watching through your field glasses, I happened to turn them in the direction of the pesthouse, and there he was again, humped up on the doorsill, watching through glasses of his own. When you started off toward town, he hustled into the house and shut the door. Now, it seems to me no one would stay in a _pesthouse_ unless he was hiding from someone."

"No one ever had smallpox there."

"Then why does everyone avoid it so?"

"I don't know. The name, I reckon. It was built for a pesthouse, but the doctors decided the patient didn't have smallpox after all, so the building has never been used."

"Then perhaps he knows there is nothing to be afraid of in the house."

"That may be, of course. Is he there yet?"

"Yes, I think he is. I've kept a close lookout ever since I discovered him, and I haven't seen him leave."

Tabitha seemed lost in thought a moment, then turned an eager face toward her companion. "Gloriana, the reward!"

"Could we?"

"Can't tell till we try!"

"But how----"

"There are only two small windows in the house,--funny, isn't it, when air is so necessary in case of sickness,--he can't get out of them. So all we have to do is guard the door."

"But how shall we get him to the--police?"

"Sheriff? I hadn't thought of that part. We couldn't tie him up and march him to jail,--we aren't strong enough, just us girls. We'll have to make sure he is there, lock him in, and then while one of us guards the door, the other must go for help."

Gloriana shuddered. She hoped it would not fall to her lot to guard the door, and yet she could not bear to think of Tabitha's staying there alone with only a flimsy structure between her and a desperate character.

"I--we--had we better try it alone?" she asked timidly. "Wouldn't it be wiser to tell the assayer and get him to help?"

"The more people there are connected with his capture, the smaller our share of the reward will be. We can do it all right."

Tabitha's daring swept away her objections. "That's so," she answered. "Well, we better not wait any longer then, or perhaps he will get away yet."

"I'm ready," Tabitha replied promptly, and with quaking hearts but determined steps the two set out, armed with a stout stick and the rusty old pistol which Gloriana had used the night the boys had played burglar.

"What is that broom handle for?" questioned the red-haired girl, wondering if she would be expected to crack the desperado over the head with it.

"To lock the door with."

"_Lock the door_?" Could Tabitha have gone suddenly crazy?

"Yes. It's the only way we can fasten him in. The door has an iron handle on the outside, instead of a knob, you see."

"Oh!"

"Is that the man?" The door of the pesthouse had opened abruptly and a short, portly man roughly dressed, unshaved and florid of complexion, appeared on the threshold a moment, eyed the approaching girls indifferently, glanced searchingly toward town, and again vanished within, closing the door behind him. Gloriana's heart seemed to stop beating, then pounded so loudly that it sounded to her like the pulsing of the engines in the Silver Legion Mine. "Yes," she gasped.

"Then we've got him!" Scared but exultant, Tabitha leaped to the door, thrust her stick through the handle, and cocked her revolver, just as the man, hearing the noise outside, grasped the knob and tried to open the door.

"What the deuce!" they heard him exclaim, and then he wrenched again. "Who's out there, and what do you want?" he bellowed in rage, when the door refused to budge.

"You're our prisoner," Tabitha answered boldly, though trembling like a leaf with nervous dread; "and you might just as well keep quiet as to make a fuss. Glory, hurry for the sheriff, the assayer--anyone! He's desperate!"

And indeed he sounded desperate as he kicked and banged the door, shouted and swore, tearing about his small prison like a madman, and breathing threats of vengeance against his jailer, who stood pale but undaunted in front of the door, with a cocked revolver clinched tightly in both hands, waiting anxiously for the return of Gloriana with help from town, and thanking her lucky stars that neither of the small windows was on the door side of the house.

Then suddenly the tumult ceased within, and terrified Tabitha began to take courage again. "He has decided to behave himself at last," she thought. "It's the only sensible thing to do, for he can't get away from here now without being caught. There comes Glory at last, but oh, gracious! look at the crowd following her. Half the town is out."

Just then a subdued grunt from around the corner of the house caught her attention, and beckoning wildly to the approaching throng, she crept cautiously forward to investigate, but paused again, paralyzed at the sight which met her eyes. The portly prisoner had attempted to escape by means of one of the small windows, and now hung suspended by the middle over the sill, his hands clawing the air helplessly inside, and his heels waving frantically without. At another time, Tabitha, would have shouted with laughter at the ridiculous figure he cut, but now her only thought was to prevent his escaping, and flinging aside her pistol, she plunged toward the body seesawing through the air, and clutched the feet with a determined grip, while the helpless victim protested in emphatic language.

Thus the crowd found them and went wild with delight at the spectacle, much to the discomfiture of both captor and captive, and when at length the florid prisoner was freed from his uncomfortable position, his face was purple with rage and exertion. "What is the meaning of this outrage?" he exploded as soon as he could find sufficient breath to voice his indignation. "Who put you up to such a trick as that, you young minx? Do you know who I am?"

"Why, Jerry Weller!" exclaimed an astonished voice from the interested throng of onlookers. "What are you doing here?"

"I bought this old shack and was to have had it moved onto my claims to-day, if the movers had showed up," exclaimed the irate man, his voice thick with anger. "But along come these jades and fasten me in----"

"We thought he was the bank robber," Tabitha murmured faintly, sick at heart over the mistake. "He was acting so--so suspiciously."

"Bank robber!" echoed the speaker from the crowd. "Why, Jeremiah Weller is owner of the biggest placer mines in the country. He made a fortune in Alaska. He's a millionaire! Bank robber! Ha--ha! That's rich!"

The crowd roared appreciatively, but the victim of the mistake quite unexpectedly lost his glowering look, and gruffly declared, "Well, you needn't laugh at her. She's pluck to the backbone. Show me another girl who would have undertook to corral a bank robber as she did. I don't wonder she thought that was my occupation. I certainly look rough enough--" Suddenly his roving eyes fell upon the timid, shrinking Gloriana, so depressed at the way matters had turned out that she could scarcely keep back the scalding tears. If it had not been for her, Tabitha would never have gone on such a wild-goose chase. Why hadn't she kept her suspicions to herself?

"What's your name?" demanded the stranger so abruptly that he seemed positively rude.

"Gloriana Holliday," she managed to articulate.

"Did you ever have an Uncle Jerry?"

"If I did, he never came near us that I can remember," she candidly replied.

The purple of his face deepened. "That's right, too," he muttered. "But your mother ran away to get married."

"And her folks told her never to let them see her face again," supplemented Gloriana bitterly.

"Was her name Weller at one time? But of course it was. There couldn't be two people on earth look as much alike as she and you unless they were mother and daughter; and besides, she married a Holliday,--Jack Holliday."

Gloriana nodded.

"Then, my girl, I'm your Uncle Jerry, and if you didn't catch your bank robber, you made a pretty good haul anyway. Your mother--she--she's--dead, isn't she? And your father? You're an orphan----"

"She's not any longer!" Tabitha broke in savagely. "We've adopted her and she's my sister."

"Oh! Well, that simplifies matters, too, for I'm a bachelor and have no _home_ to offer, but-- Say, I want to talk with you. Where's your adopted father? Not in town now? Well, isn't there some place we can go where we won't be gawked at by all these hoodlums? Bring your black-haired sister,--my jailer. I certainly do admire pluck."

At this broad hint, the curious crowd reluctantly withdrew, and left the trio alone at the pesthouse threshold. Standing there bare-headed with the waning sunlight glinting through the heavy, red locks, Gloriana told what she could remember of the pitiful struggle of her parents, their deaths, and her unhappy lot until the scholarship at Ivy Hall had opened the way to better things.

So affected was the bluff stranger by the sad tale that he made no effort to check the tears which filled his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. "Well, the past is passed," he said when the story was done, "and we can't do anything now to change it. I've been downright sorry at the way we treated your mother, but she effaced herself pretty well. We never got a trace of her whereabouts, though years afterwards we heard that she was dead. We never knew there was a child, but never mind, you shall not want again as long as I live. Being a rover and unmarried, I have no home to offer, as I said before; so I am glad to find you settled with such good friends. But I've got all kinds of money, and insist upon paying for your education from now on. Here's a check for pin money."

Drawing a check-book from his pocket, he rapidly scribbled a few lines, tore out the slip and handed it to Gloriana. Mechanically she took it, and her gray eyes grew round with wonder as she read. "One hundred dollars! Oh, you must have made a mistake, Mr.----"

"Uncle Jerry," he corrected her.

"Uncle Jerry," she dutifully repeated.

"Not a bit of it! And what's more, there will be one of those ready for you every quarter."

"Oh, that's too much!" she protested. "Whatever would a girl do with four hundred dollars a year spending money?" The sum appalled her, and well it might, for never before had she possessed more than five dollars at one time.

He laughed at her dismay. "Why, I often spend that much in a day. You can lay in a stock of jimcracks like the other girls have. You'll find plenty of ways to dispose of every cent, I know."

"Maybe," she half whispered. "You see, I never had so much as a dollar all my own that I can remember until I came to live with Tabitha, but perhaps when I get used to knowing it's really mine and--genuine, I'll find ways to spend it. I--I thank you. It's nice to have an Uncle Jerry."

"It's nice to have a Niece Gloriana, too," he answered gruffly, clearing his throat with much gusto; and as there seemed to be nothing further to say, the trio turned from the lonely pesthouse, and silently climbed the hill toward town.