CHAPTER XXVI.

ARTHUR TRIES TO HELP HIMSELF.

Arthur found his father alone in the office, pacing the floor, with his hands in his pockets, and a look of triumph and exultation on his face; but, when his son entered, he sank into the nearest chair, and tried to appear very sorrowful, indeed.

“That was a sad event, Arthur,” said he, with a long-drawn sigh—“a very sad event. I don’t wonder that you look frightened. I was frightened myself, and so was everybody else; but we have the satisfaction of knowing that we used our utmost endeavors to save him.”

We have already told how hard Uncle Bob and Arthur worked to keep the boat from going into the canyon. The former did nothing but shout out orders, to which nobody paid the least attention, while Arthur stood by and looked on, without uttering a word.

“Yes, I know we did all we could,” replied Arthur, faintly; “but we couldn’t help him. Bob knew as well as we did that he was doomed. He told me yesterday, while we were down the river looking at the canyon, that if I went out in a boat, I must be careful not to let that current get hold of me. If I did, I might as well be in the rapids above Niagara Falls, for nothing could save me. Now, father, I can’t stay here any longer, and I want you to give me money enough to take me back to Bolton.”

“I should like to go there myself, or somewhere else, and stay until time has somewhat effaced the memory of this terrible occurrence; but, under the circumstances, I don’t think it best for either one of us to leave,” answered Uncle Bob.

“Why not?” asked Arthur. “Why can’t we both go?”

“Because our absence might give people occasion to say hard things about us.”

“I don’t see why it should. We had nothing whatever to do with it.”

“Certainly not. But that wouldn’t make any difference to these herdsmen, who are as unreasonable as so many pigs. I can see very plainly that they don’t like us, and don’t want us here; but, to tell you the plain truth, Arthur, I should be afraid to go away after what has happened.”

“Why would you?”

“Because these ignorant men would take it as a confession of guilt on my part.”

All unaccustomed as Arthur was to reasoning _a posteriori_—that is, from the effect to the cause—he told himself that his father never could have reached this conclusion if he had not felt guilty.

Although Uncle Bob tried to believe that he was sorry his nephew was gone, he did not succeed in deceiving either himself or those about him; and it was not at all improbable that an attempt at flight on his part would have resulted in something serious.

Whenever Uncle Bob allowed his mind to dwell upon this matter, he became as badly frightened as Arthur was. Dearly as he loved money, he loved life better, and he would willingly have surrendered his nephew’s millions if, by so doing he could have transported himself and Arthur back to Bolton, where he knew they would be safe.

“And must we stay here in the midst of these lawless men, who may at any moment take a notion to hang us?” exclaimed Arthur in great alarm.

“It seems to be our only chance,” confessed Uncle Bob, in agitated tones. “I have thought the matter all over, and I don’t see that we can do anything else. If we could only make these men believe that we take the matter as much to heart as they do, they wouldn’t think so hard of us; but they are very obstinate and set in their ways, and it will take time to accomplish that.”

“But, father, I _can’t_ stay here,” insisted Arthur, jumping to his feet, and walking nervously up and down the floor. “I shall go crazy if I do—I know I shall. If you won’t go with me, give me money and let me go alone. You’ve got plenty of it. I heard one of the men say that there were twenty or thirty thousand dollars in that safe.”

“There’s more than that in there,” said Uncle Bob. “But it isn’t the money I care for. I was thinking of you. It would not be best for you to leave now.”

“I will take all the risk,” pleaded Arthur. “Don’t refuse, for if you do, there is no telling what may happen.”

“Don’t get excited over it,” advised Uncle Bob, who was anything but calm himself. “Be governed by me, and hope for the best.”

Arthur who became almost frantic whenever he thought of Sam, and the interview he had appointed for the morrow, “right away after breakfast,” said everything he could think of to induce his father to grant his request, but he urged and begged in vain.

When Uncle Bob once made up his mind to a thing, he was fully as obstinate and unreasonable as the herdsmen to whom he had referred in tones so contemptuous, and Arthur might as well have argued with the stone walls of the ranch.

Finding that he could make no impression upon his father, the boy grew angry, and was more than once on the point of declaring that Sam had made a demand upon him for five thousand dollars, threatening, in case of refusal, to publish a story of his own getting up, that would induce the herdsmen to make short work of both of them.

But his guilty fears would not allow him to do it, and, besides, he had some other plans in his head that he wanted to try first, so he bolted out of the office, banging the door behind him.

“He’s the meanest old hulks of a father that any fellow ever had,” thought Arthur, stopping in the hall long enough to shake his fist at the door, “and I don’t care what happens to him. As he is too pig-headed to do as I want him to do, I’ll help myself to every cent there is in that safe this very night if I can get in. If I succeed, I will give Sam his hush-money to-morrow morning, and hire him to show me the way to the railroad station. I have seen quite enough of Arizona, and if I can only get aboard a train of cars that is headed for the East, the prospect of owning four times four million dollars won’t bring me back here.”

While Arthur was talking to himself in this way, he looked cautiously out of the door, and, having satisfied himself, by a few minutes’ reconnaissance, that the herdsmen had all dispersed, he walked across the porch, and bent his steps toward the grove.

He wanted to be alone, and this was the most retired spot he could find. It was utterly impossible for him to keep still, and here he could walk about among the trees without being seen by anybody.

Arthur had been in the grove, perhaps half an hour, keeping his thoughts busy with the plans he intended to put into operation in case his attempt to steal the money in the safe did not prove successful, when he saw the superintendent stop in front of the porch with a couple of horses that were saddled and bridled.

After he had stood there for a minute or two, Uncle Bob came out of the ranch, with his hat on his head and a riding-whip in his hand. He mounted one of the horses, Mr. Jacobs sprang upon the other, and together they rode away.

“They are going off somewhere on business,” soliloquized Arthur, “and this is as good an opportunity as I shall have to take a look at that safe. I wish the money in it belonged to me, and that the old man wanted some of it. He shouldn’t have a cent if he was starving.”

Arthur gave the horsemen time to get out of sight, and then he left the grove and walked toward the ranch.

He went into the office, and having locked the door to prevent interruption, he began an examination of the safe, which was set into the wall so that nothing but the face of it could be seen.

If it had been provided with a combination lock, Arthur would have set to work upon it at once; but as it was an old-fashioned article, requiring a key to open it, he could do nothing.

Thinking it possible that his father might have left the key in the room, he began looking for it in the bookcases, under the lounge, along the edge of the carpet—in every place, in fact, that seemed to offer the least chance for concealment, but his search was in vain.

“It is in his pocket, most likely,” said Arthur, as he unlocked the door, sat down in one of the easy chairs, and opened a book, which he had taken at random down from one of the shelves. “I’ll just hang around the rest of the day, and satisfy myself on that point. That key is the only thing that stands in my way. If I can get my hands on that, the rest will be easy enough, for I know how to open the safe.”

Arthur turned his chair about so that he could not see the river when he happened to glance out of the window—somehow, he could not bear the sight of it now—and tried to amuse himself by looking at the engravings in the book he held in his hand; but the excitement and suspense which had taken the place of his fears were too much for him, and sometimes he would spring to his feet and rush about the room like some caged wild animal.

But he was quiet enough when his father returned about dinner-time, and came into the office, accompanied by the superintendent.

Some argument had arisen between them regarding the business of the ranch, and, in order to settle it, they had to refer to the books that were in the safe.

Arthur saw his father take the key from his pocket and insert it in the lock, and took particular notice to the way he twirled the knob.

When the door swung open and the interior of the safe was disclosed to his view, Arthur was not a little astonished.

One of the shelves was piled full of greenbacks, and on the shelf under it were four large tin boxes, which were filled to the brim with bright, shining gold pieces.

As he did not care to stay there and listen to a discussion about matters of which he knew nothing and cared less, Arthur put away his book and went out into the hall.

He walked about for a few minutes, with his eyes fastened thoughtfully on the floor, and then hurried to his room and began to unpack his valise. He had not thought of it before.

“There’s a lot of money in that safe,” said he to himself, “and I must have something to carry it in, for I couldn’t get the tenth part of it into my pockets. I don’t know what the old man will say when he finds that his safe has been emptied; and, in order to keep it from his knowledge as long as I can, I will take the key with me when I go. I wish now that I had told Sam to meet me about midnight. If he comes to the grove this afternoon, I will make new arrangements with him.”

Arthur spent the entire afternoon in the grove, with his thoughts for company; but Sam did not put in an appearance. He knew better.

He had made some threats against Bob in the presence of some of the herdsmen, and the valley was not a safe place for him. He was idling away the time in the seclusion of a deep ravine a short distance away, waiting impatiently for the morrow.

Arthur went to bed as soon as he had eaten his supper, and when his father came into the room, about eleven o’clock, he lay with his face to the wall, apparently fast asleep. The two had but little to say to each other since the interview in the morning.

Uncle Bob tried to be sociable while they were at the table, but Arthur would scarcely listen to him.

“I was the only friend he had on the ranch,” the youth kept saying to himself, “and I want him to see that he has made an enemy of me. If he doesn’t know it now he will find it out very shortly.”

It was long after midnight before Arthur made any move to show that he was awake. Then he turned over very cautiously, and, after listening intently for a few minutes, he made up his mind that the time for action had arrived.

Noiselessly he arose from the bed and moved towards the chair upon which his father had deposited his clothing.

After a little fumbling in the dark, he found the pocket of which he was in search, and his fingers closed tightly on the coveted key.

Hardly able to repress an exclamation of triumph, Arthur picked up his valise, which he had placed at the foot of his bed, unlocked the door and passed through the hall into the office.

Feeling his way to the safe, he put the key into the lock, turned the knob, and the door opened for him.

“It’s all mine,” thought he, as he opened his valise and proceeded to stow the greenbacks away in it. “If father wants to stay here, and run the risk of being hanged, he can do it and welcome; but I’m off for Bolton, this very—”

All on a sudden, the door of the office creaked on its hinges, and the room was brilliantly illuminated. With a piercing cry of terror, Arthur looked over his shoulder and saw his father standing behind him, holding a lamp in one hand and a big revolver in the other.