Charlie to the Rescue

  CHAPTER TWENTY.

  JAKE THE FLINT IN DIFFICULTIES.

  The man who, at the time we write of, was known by the name of Jake theFlint had acquired the character of the most daring and cruel scoundrelin a region where villains were by no means rare. His exploitsindicated a spirit that was utterly reckless of life, whether his own orthat of his fellow-men, and many were the trappers, hunters, andRedskins who would have given a good deal and gone far to have thechance of putting a bullet in his carcass.

  But, as is not unfrequently the case with such men, Jake seemed to beara charmed life, and when knife, bullet, and rope, cut short the careerof many less guilty men, Jake had hitherto managed to elude hiscaptors--at one time by strategy, at another by a bold dash for life,and sometimes by "luck." No one had a kind word for Jake, no one loved,though many feared, admired, and hated him. This may seem strange, forit is usually found that even in the case of the most noted outlawsthere is a woman or a man, or both--who cling to them with affection.

  Perhaps the fact that Jake was exceptionally harsh and cruel at alltimes, may account for this, as it accounted for his sobriquet of Flint.He was called by some of those who knew him a "God-forsaken man." Wemerely state the fact, but are very far from adopting the expression,for it ill becomes any man of mortal mould to pronounce his fellow-manGod-forsaken.

  In the meantime we feel it to be no breach of charity to say that Jakehad forsaken God, for his foul language and bloody deeds proved the factbeyond all question. He was deceitful as well as cruel, and those whoknew him best felt sure that his acting under Buck Tom was a mere ruse.There is little doubt that he had done so for the purpose of obtainingan influence over a gang of desperadoes, ready to hand, as it were, andthat the moment he saw his opportunity he would kill Buck Tom and takecommand. The only thing that had kept him from doing so sooner, it wasthought, was the fact that Buck had the power to gain the affection ofhis men, as well as to cause them to fear him, so that Jake had not yetfound the time ripe for action.

  After the outlaw had been put into the room by himself, as alreadystated, the door locked, and a sentry posted below the window, heimmediately turned with all his energy to examine into his circumstancesand prospects. First of all his wrists were manacled. That, however,gave him little concern, for his hands were unusually small anddelicate, and he knew from experience that he could slip them out of anyhandcuffs that would close easily on his wrists--a fact that he hadcarefully concealed, and of which men were not yet aware, as he had notyet been under the necessity of availing himself of the circumstance.

  The rope with which he had been bound on the way to the ranch had beenremoved, the handcuffs being deemed sufficient. As the window of hisprison was over thirty feet from the ground, and a sentinel with acarbine and revolver stood below, it was thought that the bird who hadso frequently escaped his cage before was safe at last, and fairly onhis way to the gallows.

  Not so thought Jake the Flint. Despair did not seem to be a possibilityto him. Accordingly, he examined his prison carefully, and with ahopeful smile. The examination was soon completed, for the roompresented no facilities whatever for escape. There was no bed fromwhich to take the sheets and blankets to extemporise a rope. Nomattress to throw over the window so as to break a heavy man's fall. Nochimney by which to ascend to the roof, no furniture, indeed, of anykind beyond a deal chair and table. The door was of solid oak andbolted outside.

  Obviously the window was his only chance. He went to it and looked out.The depth was too much, he knew, for even his strong bones to stand theshock; and the sentinel paced to and fro underneath with loaded carbine.

  "If any one would only lay a feather-bed down there," thought Jake, "I'djump an' take my chance."

  While he was gazing meditatively on the fair prospect of land and waterthat lay before him, one of the bolts of the door was withdrawn, thenanother, and the door slowly opened.

  For an instant the outlaw gathered himself up for a rush, with a view tosell his life dearly, and he had even begun to draw one of his hands outof the manacles, when the folly and hopelessness of the attempt struckhim. He quickly checked himself, and met his jailor (one of thetroopers) with a smiling countenance as he entered and laid a loaf and ajug of water on the table.

  The rattle of a musket outside told Jake that his jailor had not comealone.

  Without a word the man turned, and was leaving the room, when Jake, in avoice of great humility, asked him to stop.

  "You couldn't remove these things, could you?" he said, holding out hisfettered hands.

  "No," answered the trooper, sharply.

  "Ah!" sighed Jake, "I feared it was agin the rules. You couldn't let mehave the use of a file, could you, for a few minutes? What! agin' rulestoo? It's a pity, for I'm used to brush my teeth with a file of amornin', an' I like to do it before breakfast."

  Jake interlarded his speech with a variety of oaths, with which we willnot defile the paper, but he could extract no further reply from thetrooper than a glance of scorn.

  Left to himself, Jake again went to the window, which was a smallcottage one, opening inwards like a door. He opened it and looked out.The sentinel instantly raised his carbine and ordered him to shut it.

  "Hullo! Silas, is that you?" cried Jake in surprise, but paying noattention to the threat, "I thought you had quit for Heaven durin' thelast skrimidge wi' the Reds down in Kansas? Glad to see you lookin' sowell. How's your wife an' the child'n, Silas?"

  "Come now, Jake," said the trooper sternly, "you know it's all up withyou, so you needn't go talkin' bosh like that--more need to say yourprayers. Stand back and shut the window, I say, else I'll put a bulletthrough your gizzard."

  "Well now, Silas," said Jake, remonstratively, and opening the breast ofhis red shirt as he spoke, "I didn't expect that of an old friend likeyou--indeed I didn't. But, see here, if you raaly are goin' to firetake good aim an' keep clear o' the heart and liver. The gizzard lieshereabout (pointing to his breast) and easy to hit if you've a steadyhand. I know the exact spot, for I've had the cuttin' up of a goodbunch o' men in my day, an' I can't bear to see a thing muddled. Buthold on, Silas, I won't put ye to the pain o' shootin' me. I'll shutthe window if you'll make me a promise."

  "What's that?" demanded the trooper, still covering the outlaw, however,with his carbine.

  "You know I'm goin' to my doom--that's what poetical folk call it,Silas--an' I want you to help me wind up my affairs, as the lawyers say.Well, this here (holding up a coin) is my last dollar, the remains o'my fortin', Silas, an' this here bit o' paper that I'm rappin' round it,is my last will an' testimonial. You'll not refuse to give it to myonly friend on arth, Hunky Ben, for I've no wife or chick to weep o'ermy grave, even though they knew where it was. You'll do this for me,Silas, won't you?"

  "All right--pitch it down."

  Jake threw the coin, which fell on the ground a few feet in front of thetrooper, who stooped to pick it up.

  With one agile bound the outlaw leaped from the window and descended onthe trooper's back, which was broken by the crashing blow, and Jakerolled over him with considerable violence, but the poor man's body hadproved a sufficient buffer, and Jake rose unhurt. Deliberately takingthe carbine from the dead man's hand, and plucking the revolver from hisbelt, he sauntered off in the direction of the stables. These being toosmall to contain all the troop-horses, some of the animals were picketedin an open shed, and several troopers were rubbing them down. The mentook Jake for one of the cow-boys of the ranch, for he passed themwhistling.

  Entering the stable he glanced quickly round, selected the finest horse,and, loosing its halter from the stall, turned the animal's head to thedoor.

  "What are ye doin' wi' the captain's horse?" demanded a trooper, whochanced to be in the neighbouring stall.

  "The captain wants it. Hold his head till I get on him. He's frisky,"said Jake, in a voice of authority.

  The man was taken aback and obeyed; but as Jake mounted he tur
nedsuddenly pale.

  The outlaw, observing the change, drew the revolver, and, pointing it atthe trooper's head, said, in a low savage voice, "A word, a sound, andyour brains are on the floor!"

  The man stood open-mouthed, as if petrified. Jake shook the reins ofthe fiery horse and bounded through the door-way, stooping to thesaddle-bow as he went. He could see, even at that moment, that thetrooper, recovering himself, was on the point of uttering a shout.Wheeling round in the saddle he fired, and the man fell with a bullet inhis brain.

  The shot of course aroused the whole ranch. Men rushed into the yardwith and without arms in wild confusion, but only in time to see aflying horseman cross the square and make for the gate. A rattlingirregular volley was sent after him, but the only effect it had was tocause the outlaw to turn round in the saddle and wave his hat, while hegave vent to a yell of triumph. Another moment and he was beyond thebluff and had disappeared.

  "Boot and saddle!" instantly rang out at the ranch, and everypreparation was made for pursuit, though, mounted as Jake was on thebest horse of the troop, they could not hope to overtake him.

  Hunky Ben, at his own particular request was permitted to go on inadvance.

  "You see, sir," he said to the captain, "my Black Polly an't quite asgood as your charger, but she's more used to this sort o' country, an' Ican take the short cuts where your horse could hardly follow."

  "Go, Ben, and good luck go with you! Besides, we can do without you,now that we have Mr Brooke to guide us."

  "Come wi' me, sir," said Hunky Ben, as he passed Charlie on his way tothe stables. "Don't you hesitate, Mr Brooke, to guide the captain tothe cave of Buck Tom. I'm goin' on before you to hunt up the reptiles--to try an' catch Jake the Flint."

  The scout chuckled inwardly as he said this.

  "But why go in advance? You can never overtake the scoundrel with sucha start and on such a horse."

  "Never you mind what I can or can't do," said Ben, entering the stablewhere the dead trooper still lay, and unfastening Black Polly. "I've notime to explain. All I know is that your friend Leather is sure to behanged if he's cotched, an' I'm sure he's an innocent man--therefore,I'm goin' to save him. It's best for you to know nothin' more thanthat, for I see you're not used to tellin' lies. Can you trust _me_?"

  "Certainly I can. The look of your face, Ben, even more than thecharacter you bear, would induce me to trust you."

  "Well then, Mr Brooke, the first sign o' trust is to obey orderswithout askin' questions."

  "True, when the orders are given by one who has a right to command,"returned Charlie.

  "Just so, an' my right to command lies in the fact that the life o' yourfriend Leather depends on your obedience."

  "I'm your humble servant, then. But what am I to do?"

  "Do whatever Captain Wilmot orders without objectin', an' speak nothingbut the truth. You don't need to speak the _whole_ truth, hows'ever,"added the scout thoughtfully, as he led out his coal-black steed. "Yourfriend Leather has got a Christian name of course. Don't mention it. Idon't want to hear it. Say nothin' about it to anybody. The time maycome when it may be useful to drop the name of Leather and call yourfriend Mister whatever the tother name may be. Now mind what I've saidto ye."

  As he spoke the last words the scout touched the neck of his beautifulmare, and in another minute was seen racing at full speed over therolling plain.