CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

  LOST AND FOUND.

  "Try to be calm, Shank," said Charlie, in a soothing tone, as he kneeledbeside the shadow that had once been his sturdy chum, and put an arm onhis shoulder. "It is indeed myself _this_ time. I have come all theway from England to seek you, for we heard, through Ritson, that youwere ill and lost in these wilds, and now, through God's mercy, I havefound you."

  While Charlie Brooke was speaking, the poor invalid was breathing hardand gazing at him, as if to make quite sure it was all true.

  "Yes," he said at last, unable to raise his voice above a hoarsewhisper, "lost--and--and--found! Charlie, my friend--my chum--my--"

  He could say no more, but, laying his head like a little child on thebroad bosom of his rescuer, he burst into a passionate flood of tears.

  Albeit strong of will, and not by any means given to the melting mood,our hero was unable for a minute or two to make free use of his voice.

  "Come, now, Shank, old man, you mustn't give way like that. Youwouldn't, you know, if you had not been terribly reduced by illness--"

  "Yes, I would! yes, I would!" interrupted the sick man, almostpassionately; "I'd howl, I'd roar, I'd blubber like a very idiot, I'd doany mortal thing, if the doing of it would only make you understand howI appreciate your great kindness in coming out here to save me."

  "Oh no, you wouldn't," said Charlie, affecting an easy off-hand tone,which he was far from feeling; "you wouldn't do anything to please me."

  "What d'ye mean?" asked Shank, with a look of surprise.

  "Well, I mean," returned the other, gently, "that you won't even do sucha trifle as to lie down and keep quiet to please me."

  A smile lighted up the emaciated features of the sick man, as hepromptly lay back at full length and shut his eyes.

  "There, Charlie," he said, "I'll behave, and let you do all the talking;but don't let go my hand, old man. Keep a tight grip of it. I'mterrified lest you drift off again, and--and melt away."

  "No fear, Shank. I'll not let go my hold of you, please God, till Icarry you back to old England."

  "Ah! old England! I'll never see it again. I feel that. But tellme,"--he started up again, with a return of the excited look--"is fatherany better?"

  "N-no, not exactly--but he is no worse. I'll tell you all abouteverything if you will only lie down again and keep silent."

  The invalid once more lay back, closed his eyes and listened, while hisfriend related to him all that he knew about his family affairs, and thekindness of old Jacob Crossley, who had not only befriended them when ingreat distress, but had furnished the money to enable him, Charlie, tovisit these outlandish regions for the express purpose of rescuing Shankfrom all his troubles and dangers.

  At this point the invalid interrupted him with an anxious look.

  "Have you the money with you?"

  "Yes."

  "All of it?"

  "Yes. Why do you ask?"

  "Because," returned Shank, with something of a groan, "you are in a denof thieves!"

  "I know it, my boy," returned Charlie, with a smile, "and so, for bettersecurity, I have given it in charge to our old chum, Ralph Ritson."

  "What!" exclaimed Shank, starting up again with wide open eyes; "youhave met Ralph, then?"

  "I have. He conducted me here."

  "And you have intrusted your money to _him_?"

  "Yes--all of it; every cent!"

  "Are you aware," continued Shank, in a solemn tone, "that Ralph Ritsonis Buck Tom--the noted chief of the outlaws?"

  "I know it."

  "And you trust him?"

  "I do. I have perfect confidence that he is quite incapable ofbetraying an old friend."

  For some time Shank looked at his companion in surprise; then an absentlook came into his eyes, and a variety of expressions passed over hiswan visage. At last he spoke.

  "I don't know how it is, Charlie, but somehow I think you are right.It's an old complaint of mine, you know, to come round to your way ofthinking, whether I admit it or not. In days of old I usually refusedto admit it, but believed in you all the same! If any man had told methis morning--ay, even half an hour since--that he had placed money inthe hands of Buck Tom for safe keeping, knowing who and what he is, Iwould have counted him an incurable fool; but now, somehow, I do believethat you were quite right to do it, and that your money is as safe as ifit were in the Bank of England."

  "But I did not intrust it to Buck Tom, knowing who and what he _is_,"returned Charlie, with a significant smile, "I put it into the hands ofRalph Ritson, knowing who and what he _was_."

  "You're a good fellow, Charlie," said Shank, squeezing the hand thatheld his, "and I believe it is that very trustfulness of yours whichgives you so great power and influence with people. I know it hasinfluenced me for good many a time in the past, and would continue to doso still if I were not past redemption."

  "No man is past redemption," said the other quietly; "but I'm glad youagree with me about Ralph, for--"

  He stopped abruptly, and both men turned their eyes towards the entranceto the cave.

  "Did you hear anything?" asked Shank, in a low voice.

  "I thought so--but it must have been the shifting of a log on the fire,"said the other, in a similarly low tone.

  "Come, now, Charlie," said Shank, in his ordinary tones, "let me hearsomething about yourself. You have not said a word yet about what youhave been doing these three years past."

  As he spoke a slight noise was again heard in the passage, and, nextmoment Buck Tom re-entered carrying a lump of meat. Whether he had beenlistening or not they had no means of knowing, for his countenance wasquite grave and natural in appearance.

  "I suppose you have had long enough, you two, to renew your oldacquaintance," he said. "It behoves me now to get ready some supper forthe boys against their return, for they would be ill-pleased to comehome to an empty kettle, and their appetites are surprisingly strong.But you needn't interrupt your conversation. I can do my work withoutdisturbing you."

  "We have no secrets to communicate, Buck," returned Shank, "and I haveno doubt that the account of himself, which our old chum was just goingto give, will be as interesting to you as to me."

  "Quite as interesting," rejoined Buck; "so pray go on, Brooke. I canlisten while I look after the cookery."

  Thus urged, our hero proceeded to relate his own adventures at sea--thewreck of the _Walrus_, the rescue by the whaler, and his variousexperiences both afloat and ashore.

  "The man, Dick Darvall, whom I have mentioned several times," saidCharlie, in conclusion, "I met with again in New York, when I was aboutto start to come here, and as I wanted a companion, and he was a mostsuitable man, besides being willing to come, I engaged him. He is arough and ready, but a handy and faithful, man, who had some experiencein woodcraft before he went to sea, but I have been forced to leave himbehind me at a ranch a good many miles to the south of David's store,owing to the foolish fellow having tried to jump a creek in the dark andbroken his horse's leg. We could not get another horse at the time, andas I was very anxious to push on--being so near my journey's end--andthe ranch was a comfortable enough berth, I left him behind, as I havesaid, with directions to stay till I should return, or to push on if hecould find a safe guide."

  While Charlie Brooke was relating the last part of his experience, itmight have been observed that the countenance of Buck Tom underwent avariety of curious changes, like the sky of an April day. A somewhatstern frown settled on it at last but neither of his companions observedthe fact being too much interested in each other.

  "What was the name o' the ranch where your mate was left?" asked BuckTom, when his guest ceased speaking.

  "The ranch of Roaring Bull," answered Charlie. "I should not wonder,"he added, "if its name were derived from its owner's voice, for itsounded like the blast of a trombone when he shouted to his people."

  "Not only his ranch but himself is named after his voice," returnedBuck. "Hi
s real name is Jackson, but it is seldom used now. Every oneknows him as Roaring Bull. He's not a bad fellow at bottom, butsomething overbearing, and has made a good many enemies since he came tothis part of the country six years ago."

  "That may be so," remarked Brooke, "but he was very kind to us the daywe put up at his place, and Dick Darvall, at all events, is not one ofhis enemies. Indeed he and Roaring Bull took quite a fancy to eachother. It seemed like love at first sight. Whether Jackson's prettydaughter had anything to do with the fancy on Dick's part of course Ican't say. Now, I think of it, his readiness to remain behind inclinesme to believe it had!"

  "Well, come outside with me, and have a chat about old, times. It istoo hot for comfort here. I dare say our friend Shank will spare youfor quarter of an hour, and the pot can look after itself. By the way,it would be as well to call me Buck Tom--or Buck. My fellows would notunderstand Ralph Ritson. They never heard it before. Have a cigar?"

  "No, thank you, I have ceased to see the advantage of poisoningone's-self merely because it is the fashion to do so."

  "The poison is wonderfully slow," said Buck.

  "But not less wonderfully sure," returned Charlie, with a smile.

  "As you will," rejoined Buck, rising and going outside with his visitor.

  The night was very still and beautiful, and, the clouds having clearedaway, the moonbeams struggled through the foliage and revealed theextreme wildness and seclusion of the spot which had been chosen by theoutlaws as their fortress.

  Charlie now saw that the approach to the entrance of the cave was anarrow neck of rock resembling a natural bridge, with a deep gully oneither side, and that the cliff which formed the inner end of the cavernoverhung its base, so that if an enemy were to attempt to hurl rocksdown from above these would drop beyond the cave altogether. This muchhe saw at a glance. The minute details and intricacies of the place ofcourse could not be properly seen or understood in the flickering anduncertain light which penetrated the leafy canopy, and, as it were,played with the shadows of the fallen rocks that strewed the groundeverywhere, and hung in apparently perilous positions on the mountainslopes.

  The manner of the outlaw changed to that of intense earnestness themoment he got out to the open air.

  "Charlie Brooke," he said, with more of the tone and air of old familiarfriendship than he had yet allowed himself to assume, "it's of no useexciting poor Shank unnecessarily, so I brought you out here to tell youthat your man Dick Darvall is in deadly peril, and nothing but immediateaction on my part can save him; I must ride without delay to his rescue.You cannot help me in this. I know what you are going to propose, butyou must trust and obey me if you would save your friend's life. Toaccompany me would only delay and finally mar my plans. Now, willyou--"

  A peculiar whistle far down the gorge caused the outlaw to ceaseabruptly and listen.

  The whistle was repeated, and Buck answered it at once with a look ofgreat surprise.

  "These are my fellows back already!" he said.

  "You seem surprised. Did you, then, not expect them so soon?"

  "I certainly did not; something must have gone wrong," replied Buck,with a perplexed look. Then, as if some new idea had flashed upon him,"Now, look here, Brooke, I must ask you to trust me implicitly and toact a part. Your life may depend on your doing this."

  "The first I can do with ease, but as to the latter, my agreeing to doso depends on whether the action you require of me is honourable. Youmust forgive me, Rits--"

  "Hush! Don't forget that there is no such man as Ralph Ritson in thesemountains. _My_ life may depend on your remembering that. Of course Idon't expect you to act a dishonourable part,--all I want you to do justnow is to lie down and pretend to go to sleep."

  "Truly, if that is all, I am ready," said Charlie; "at all events I willshut my eyes and hold my tongue."

  "A useful virtue at times, and somewhat rare," said Buck, leading hisguest back into the cavern. "Now, then, Brooke, lie down there,"pointing to a couch of pine-brush in a corner, "and try to sleep if youcan."

  Our hero at once complied, stretched himself at full length with hisface to the light, and apparently went to sleep, but with his left armthrown over his forehead as if to protect his eyes from the glare of thefire. Thus he was in a position to see as well as hear all that wenton. Buck Tom went to the sick man and whispered something to him.Then, returning to the fire, he continued to stir the big pot, and sniffits savoury contents with much interest.