CHAPTER XV.

  THE ROBBERY--CUMMINGS' NARROW ESCAPE--THE CAPTURE OF MORIARITY--JIMCUMMINGS SLIPS FROM THE TOILS--MR. PINKERTON TAKES A HAND.

  The ranche was asleep. Heavy breathing and deep snores from thesleeping-rooms indicated that slumber had fallen on all the inmates.Swanson, who had been repeatedly urged to drink by Cummings andMoriarity and had accepted every invitation, was stretched on his backa drunken mass of stupidity.

  The stamping of the horses and distant movements of the thousands ofhead of cattle alone broke the silence of the night and the darknesshad cast its pall over the entire place.

  In the large room Scip and the Doctor coolly and calmly awaited thehour of their triumph. Fear was a stranger to both, and as they quietlyconversed in whispered accents it would be difficult to believe thatthey were about to engage in a most desperate enterprise. In anotherroom lay Cummings and Moriarity, completely dressed. The former, withhis habitual sang froid, was whispering to Moriarity, who, somewhatexcited, was calmed by his companion's nonchalance, and as the hour forthe work drew near became like him. A stealthy step, noiseless as anIndian's, interrupted the conversation, and the faint rap on the doorgave them the long-looked-for signal.

  Creeping on their hands and knees down the hall past Swanson's door,through which his hoarse breathing could be heard, the two men enteredthe room in which the treasure was stored. The dying embers in thefire-place created a dull glow, showing the Doctor and Scip, booted andspurred, standing in the center of the room. Softly Cummings approachedthe picture, his finger found the spring through the canvas and,pressing it hard, the frame swung slowly forward as if reluctant togive up its precious charge.

  Rapidly taking one bag after another from the cavity Cummings passedthem to Moriarity, who placed them in the bags prepared for them.

  The Doctor and Scip had gone outside and now brought the four horsesnearer the door. This they did that they might have as little to dowith the robbery as possible, and they had so managed it that Jim andDan had done the actual theft.

  Moriarity had brought two of the bags which the Doctor had placed onhis own and Scip's horse and had gone back for the third, when the doorfrom the inner hall opened, and, his tangled hair hanging in mats overhis eyes, his clothing disarranged, his face purple with rage and arevolver in each hand, Swanson appeared before the surprised robbers.

  The dim light of the fire showed the picture open, and befogged as hisbrain was by the whisky, he realized he was being robbed, and with aroar like a mad bull he sprang upon Cummings.

  Swift as a flash Cummings' fist, sent forward with all the force of hispowerful frame, struck the ranchman under the ear, and tossing his armsabove his head he fell like a dead man on the floor.

  The sound of many feet hurrying to the scene was heard and, leaving thebag which he was about to take when Swanson sprang on him, Cummingsbolted through the door, vaulted on his horse and followed closely byhis companions, rushed swiftly into the darkness. It was none too soon,for at once a half score of men poured from the house, and the vicioussnap of the rifles, followed by the pin-n-n-g of the bullets, as theycut the air close to their heads, caused the four men to drive theirspurs into their ponies until the blood dropped from their laceratedflanks.

  Galloping swiftly to where the herding ponies were tethered, Cummingssprang from his horse and, whipping out his keen bowie knife, cutlariat after lariat, stampeding the whole herd. This done he remountedhis horse, saying,

  "NOW, we can take our time. They won't get a horse to saddle under anhour," cantered off with an easy, strength-saving gait.

  "Curse that Swanson," broke in Cummings, after riding in silence a fewmoments. "Curse him, he kept me from making an extra ten thousand byhis cursed appearance."

  Neither the Doctor nor Scip replied to this outburst from thedisappointed outlaw. The time for action was coming, and as fast astheir horses could gallop, the two outlaws were riding toward the traplaid for them. Leaning forward, with the skill of an expert pickpocket,Scip drew the revolver from the holster on Cummings' saddle, anddropped it in the dry grass which bordered the trail. Watching hisopportunity, he pushed his horse against Moriarity, and in the slightconfusion caused by the collision, he managed to obtain Dan's revolverin the same way. A whisper told the doctor that this had been done, andthe disguised detectives each rode beside the man which they were tocapture, the Doctor keeping his eye on Cummings and Scip ready to pullMoriarity off his horse at the proper time.

  On the other side of the river, or divide, dark shadows stood under thefew cottonwood trees, motionless and quiet as the grave, their earsstrained to catch the first sound of their quarry, and their handsgrasping the ready revolver.

  The far-off sound of galloping horses warned them that the time to acthad come, and soon the splashing of the water in the creek told them tostand ready.

  The voice of Scip was heard saying in loud tones:

  "Heah's de trail, gemmen, ovah dis yah way."

  The scurry of hoofs as the horses clambered up the steep banks, thelow-spoken words of encouragement which were given their steeds by therobbers, and suddenly the shrill whistle giving the long-looked-forsignal rang out on the still air.

  As Scip gave the whistle he passed his arm around Moriarity, saying:

  "Dan Moriarity, you are my prisoner."

  His words were instantly followed by the rush of the detectives who hadbeen lying in ambush, and Moriarity, taken completely by surprise,threw his hands above his head in token of surrender, and thenpassively submitted to having the darbies snapped on his wrists.

  Cummings, at the first note of the vibrating signal, had his eyesopened. His hand flew to his holster, and the mocking laugh of thedetective followed the discovery that his revolver was gone.

  Sam laid his hand on the outlaw's shoulder, and pressing his revolveragainst his head, called on him to surrender.

  Throwing his hands over his head as Moriarity had done, he suddenlybrought his clinched fists full against Sam's temple, putting into theblow the strength of three men. Without a groan the detective's headsank forward, his revolver dropped from his nerveless grasp, and he layunconscious on his horse's back.

  A yell of exultation, and Cummings, turning his horse, dashed down thebank, through the stream, and disappeared in the darkness on the otherside.

  Instantly the detectives followed, leaving two men to guard Moriarity,for in the darkness Sam's condition was not noticed, but seeing thefolly of attempting a pursuit in so dark a night, Chip's whistlerecalled them, and the chagrined and disappointed operatives gatheredaround the cottonwood trees.

  Sam, who had merely been stunned, soon recovered, and with the aid ofsome brandy Richard was himself once more.

  The notorious Jim Cummings had escaped, but two of his accomplices,Cook and Moriarity, were in the clutches of the law.

  Dan maintained a dogged silence as the cavalcade cantered toward KansasCity, nor did he speak a word until he was safe behind the bars in thatcity.

  "You have caught me by a dirty, shabby trick, but you will never layyour hands on Jim Cummings," he boasted.

  To this Chip replied with a smile, "We'll see, Daniel, we'll see. Makeyourself comfortable, for you will stay here a good long time, my cockrobin."

  A growl and a curse was all that Dan deigned to answer, and turning onhis heel Chip left the prison.

  Mr. Pinkerton, who had received almost daily reports of what hadoccurred, which reports Chip had contrived to mail through some one ofthe detectives disguised as cowboys, now telegraphed that he would bein Kansas City the following night. Chip and Sam met him at the railwaystation and he accompanied them to Chip's room.

  A full and detailed recital of all that occurred was given him by hissubordinates, who then put the case in his hands.

  "Boys," he said, "we must get one of these men, either Cook orMoriarity, to squeal."

  "They are both afraid of Jim Cummings, I can see that in every wordthey speak," said Chip, "they would rather go to
Jefferson City than toturn State's evidence."

  "We must work on them in some other manner, then. Sam," turning to thedetective, "are you a good hand at forgery?"

  "I can imitate most any one's handwriting," said Sam. "Sit down and Iwill dictate a letter to you."

  Sam, taking some paper from the table, wrote as Mr. Pinkerton dictated.

  MR. WILLIAM PINKERTON:

  DEAR SIR--The letter I wrote to the St. Louis Globe-Democrat is allcorrect, excepting that I did not tell who plugged the bell-cord. Theman, Dan Moriarity, who is now under arrest in Kansas City, was the manwho did it. He also forged the order which I gave to the messengerFotheringham, and was the one who planned the robbery. I make thisstatement, relying on your word of honor to secure me a light sentenceif I turn State's evidence and give information leading to the recoveryof the money which I secured.

  Yours truly, JIM CUMMINGS.

  Mr. Pinkerton, taking from his pocket-book the train robber's letterwhich he wrote to the St. Louis newspaper, handed it to Sam.

  "There is a letter in Jim's handwriting. Now sit down and write thisletter in the same hand."

  In an hour the detective had completed his work and laid the forgedletter before his superior. It was cleverly done, and Mr. Pinkertonfelt satisfied.

  "Now for the jail," he said, and accompanied by his two "bowers," as heoften called them, he left the room and walked to the Kansas City jail.