CHAPTER XIX
SHERIFF PETE'S WINK
"He can't be dead!" cried Chester, trying to lift the still figure inhis arms. "The wound he received was not a serious one."
"I'll tell you what I think," Will replied.
"I think he's weak from lack of food and sleep I don't believe thesetrain robbers have been very considerate of him."
"But I don't see why they should misuse him!"
"They probably didn't have enough to eat themselves," Will returned."Don't you remember how one of them came to camp and set Tommy tocooking for him, and how we frightened him away by saying that thedetectives were just beyond the circle of light?"
"That was the night I was loitering around the camp waiting to get toone of you boys in order to ask you to help me find father," Chesterreplied. "Don't you remember you chased me up that night, and I ran awayin the darkness, and one of the boys came upon the train robber and theother came upon one of the detectives."
"That was Tommy and Sandy," Will answered. "George and I were asleep inour tent when all that took place."
"I guess he's about starved all right!" Chester said lifting his fatherinto a sitting position. "We'd better get some of the men down here andhave him carried into the cavern."
"But look here," Will warned, "there mustn't a word be said about thedetectives coming in here after him!"
"Why not?" asked Chester.
"Because, as I have told you before, if the sheriff understands thatyour father was a fugitive from justice, he'll send him to Chicago underarrest. It will be his duty to do so, in fact."
"And what do you boys propose to do with him?"
"We're going to take him back to Chicago and keep him out of the reachof the police. He knows something about a case we're interested in whichhe will never tell if sent back to prison."
"If he's sent back to prison," Chester replied, "you may be sure that hewon't be willing to help anybody."
"He is innocent of the crime of which he was convicted, isn't he?" askedWill. "In other words, he was jobbed!"
"That's the truth!" cried Chester.
"Well, what we've got to do is to prove that!" Will went on.
"Can you do it?" asked the son, anxiously.
"We think we can," was the reply.
"If you can, father will do anything he can for you, you may be sure ofthat," Chester answered warmly.
"But the whole success of our scheme depends on our keeping your fatherout of the clutches of the officers until we land him in Mr. Horton'soffice in Chicago. For the first time in our lives," Will continued, "weare opposing the officers of the law. As a rule that isn't a good thingfor Boy Scouts to do, but we think we are fully justified in the coursewe are taking in this case."
"What is it you want father to testify to?" asked Chester.
"I don't think we'd better stop now to discuss that," Will answered.
"I'm sure it can't be anything dishonorable."
"It's nothing dishonorable," Will assured the boy. "We believe that yourfather's testimony will save the life of a young man accused of murder.That's all I can tell you now."
"You refer to the Fremont case?" asked Chester.
"Exactly!" answered Will. "To the Fremont suicide case."
"The police call it the Fremont murder case!"
"So you have been reading about that, too, have you?" asked Will.
"I read about it in the newspapers on the day following what took placeat the bank," Chester answered, "and I couldn't help a feeling ofcontempt for the police when I understood how wrong they were."
"So you know about that, too?"
"I know all about it!" replied Chester.
Will could have hugged the boy. He had long been wondering whether thetestimony of Mr. Wagner would be accepted in court after the wound whichhad rendered him mentally incompetent had been discussed by physicians.He knew that in many cases men so injured never fully recovered.
It seemed almost like a miracle that the escaped convict's son shouldknow something of the matter, too. The boy knew that even if Mr. Wagnerfully recovered from his injury the police would object to his testimonyon the ground of previous insanity. If the boy could corroborate thestatements made by his father, that would prove sufficient.
Will was about to ask the lad further questions when the escaped convictopened his eyes and looked about.
His gaze sought the searchlight first, and then rested on the face ofhis son. Chester drew nearer and bent over him.
"Did I have a fall?" the man asked weakly.
He put his thin hand to his head as he spoke and drew it away coveredwith blood.
"Why this seems to be a fresh wound," Chester exclaimed, anxiously.
"Yes," replied the father, "I remember of hearing the sound of guns, andsensing the odor of powder smoke, and started to run down the passageand fell. I remember a shooting pain in my head and that's about alluntil I heard your voices and saw the light."
"Do you know where you are?" asked Will.
The escaped convict looked inquiringly at his son.
"Who is this boy?" he asked.
"A friend who has come to establish your innocence," was the reply.
"That is impossible," replied Wagner. "Every police official in Chicagois convinced of my guilt. They jobbed me to prison in the first instanceand they are bound to keep me there!"
"Who were the detectives?" asked Will.
"Katz and Cullen!" was the answer.
"I see," Will said musingly.
"But we mustn't permit father to remain here," Chester cut in. "Allthese questions can be answered at another time."
"That's right," Will agreed. "And I'll go to the cavern and ask some ofthe men to carry your father out."
The boy was back in five minutes with Sheriff Pete and Deputy Seth. Thesheriff looked down pityingly on the wounded man for a moment and thentook him in his arms as if he had been a child and carried him to thecavern, where the boys and the deputies were assembled around a roaringfire over which Tommy and George were broiling bear steaks.
"Say, that listens good to me," George exclaimed, as the wounded man waslaid down near the rear. "It appears that we're closing this case up injig time."
"I guess we've got it about closed up," Will answered.
"There's only one thing we've got to do now," George added, "and that isto get rid of those two bum detectives."
"Last call for dinner in the dining car!" cried Tommy.
They all flocked to the fire, and Tommy and George presented each with abear steak with the explanation that more would be forthcoming. The twotrain robbers looked on longingly.
"You boys suggested the bringing in of this meat," Tommy said, after atime, "and so I'm going to cook each of you a two pound steak."
"I guess we can take care of them all right," one of the outlawsreplied. "We've been hungry for about a week."
"Say, kid," the other outlaw cut in, "I'd like to be just your age, andbe a Boy Scout, with all the medals you've got, and money enough totravel about the world looking for trouble and meeting it like a man!"
"You had a chance once," Tommy answered rather pityingly.
"Never," was the reply. "I was reared in the slums of New York, andbecame a criminal before I was six years old. There were no Boy Scoutorganizations in those days, and so I never had any one ready andwilling to point out the road that would lead to a successful life."
"Well, if there were no Boy Scouts to help you along then," Tommyreplied, "there are plenty now to show the right way."
"And they are doing it, too, so far as I can see," Sheriff Pete cut in."They seem to be doing a lot of good in the world."
"We try to," Tommy said, and turned back to cook the steaks promised tothe outlaws. "And most of the time we succeed," he added.
"What was it one of you boys said about these two detectives?" askedSheriff Pete, as he stood talking with Will, busy at the same time witha slice of bear meat.
"Why," Will answered, "I
guess the remark was that the next thing for usto do would be to get rid of those detectives. They think they own thewhole state of Wyoming."
"Chicago men are they?" asked the sheriff.
"Yes," was the answer.
"Do they claim to be here on business?"
"Why," replied Will in a hesitating tone, "they claim to be here after afugitive from justice, but I guess they're on a hunting trip."
"If they're here on official business," the sheriff said, "I shouldthink they'd report to me."
"It may be," Will suggested, "that they are in some way associated withthese train robbers."
The sheriff looked at the boy with wide open eyes for a moment, and thendrew one eyelid down in a long, significant wink.
"You really think they stand in with these outlaws?" he asked.
"Why," replied Will, with an equally significant wink, "I think theyought to be taken out to Lander or Green River and made to give anaccount of themselves."
"Come to think about it," the sheriff said, with a smile, "I've noticedseveral suspicious circumstances lately, and I think it really might bea good thing to take them to the county seat and make them give anaccount on themselves."