CHAPTER X.
MR. ARBUCKLE'S STORY.
"Father! father! speak to me! Tell me that you are not dead!"
Over and over again did poor Dick repeat these words as he sat by theside of that wet and motionless form on the muddy river bank. The boy'sheart seemed to be breaking.
But suddenly there came a change. He saw one of his father's armsquiver. Then came a faint twitching of an eyelid.
"He is alive!" gasped Dick. The joy of the discovery nearly paralyzedhim. "Father! father!"
No answer came back, indeed, it was not to be expected. Kneeling overhis parent, Dick set to work to resuscitate the almost drowned man.
Fortunately the youth had, during his school days in New York, heard alecture on what was best to do in just such a case, so he did not laborin ignorance. His treatment was as skillful as memory and his love forhis parent could make it, and in less than half an hour he had thesatisfaction of seeing his father give a gasp and open his eyes.
"Father, don't you know me?"
"Dick!" came the almost inaudible reply. "Where--where am I?"
"You are safe, father. You fell into the river and came near todrowning."
"Is that so? I did not know there was a river near here."
Mr. Arbuckle was silent for several minutes, during which Dick continuedhis work and made him as comfortable as possible by wrapping his parentin his own dry coat.
"Where is that rascal?"
"What rascal, father?"
"The man with the red mask--the fellow who struck me down?"
"I do not know. So you were struck down? Where?"
"Just outside of the boomers' camp. Somebody brought me word that PawneeBrown wanted to see me privately. I went, and a rascal rushed on me anddemanded my private papers. I resisted and he struck me down. I know nomore than that," and Mr. Arbuckle gave another gasp. His eyes were open,but in them was that uncertain look which Dick had seen before, andwhich the lad so much dreaded.
"Why, you were struck down last night, father, and several miles fromhere. You must have come down to the river at a spot above here. Don'tyou remember that?"
Mortimer Arbuckle tried to think, then shook his head sadly.
"It's all a blur, Dick. You know my head is not as strong as it mightbe."
"Yes, yes; and you must not try to think too far. So he got your privatepapers?"
"Yes."
"The ones referring to that silver mine in Colorado?"
"Yes, and all of the others."
At this Dick could not help but groan. The papers were gone--thoseprecious documents by which he and his father had hoped some day tobecome rich.
The history of the deeds to the silver mine was a curious one. Two yearsbefore Mortimer Arbuckle had paid a visit to Creede, Colorado, onbusiness connected with a mining company then forming under the laws ofthe State of New York.
While in Creede the man had materially assisted an old miner namedBurch, who was falling into the hands of a set of swindlers headed by arascal called Captain Mull.
Mortimer Arbuckle had never met Captain Mull, but he had saved Burch'sclaim for him, for which the old miner was extremely grateful.
Over a year later Burch had died and left with another old miner thedeeds to a new mine of great promise, deeds which had not yet beenrecorded.
The old miner had forwarded these papers, along with others ofimportance concerning the exact location of the claim, to MortimerArbuckle, and the gentleman had then begun preparations to go to theWest and see if the claim was really as valuable as old Burch hadimagined.
Dick was just out of school, and would not think of remaining behind, soit was arranged that father and son should go together.
A spell of sickness had detained the father several months. Before this,however, he had hired Jack Rasco to go to Creede with him and assist inlocating the new claim.
As Mortimer Arbuckle failed to come West, Jack Rasco returned to thecompanionship of Pawnee Brown, for, as already stated, he consideredhimself the great boomer's right-hand man.
At last Mortimer Arbuckle had come on with Dick, to find Rasco had givenhis word to Pawnee Brown to stick with the boomers until the desiredentrance into Oklahoma was effected.
"Yer will hev ter wait, Mr. Arbuckle," Jack had said. "I'm sorry, but Ihev given my word ter Pawnee an' I wouldn't break it fer a cool million,thet's me."
"Let us go with the boomers!" Dick had returned enthusiastically. "Itwill be lots of fun, father, and it will give you a chance to get backyour health before you tie yourself down to those silver mine schemes."
And rather against his wishes Mortimer Arbuckle had consented. Dick sawhis father was in no mental condition to locate claims, form a newmining company, and do other labor of this sort, and trusted that thedays to be spent with the boomers would make him much stronger in bothbody and mind.
"Do you think the robber thought of the deeds when he robbed you?" wenton Dick, after a pause.
"I--I--don't know, Dick. It runs in my mind he spoke of the deeds, but Ican't remember for certain."
"He took your money?"
"Every cent." Mortimer Arbuckle gave a groan. "We are now out herepenniless, my son."
"No we are not, father. I asked Pawnee Brown for the loan of ten dollarsand he gave me twenty, and said I could have more if I needed it."
"A good man--as generous as he is brave," murmured Mortimer Arbuckle."Would the world had more of such fellows."
"Pawnee Brown and Jack Rasco are the best fellows in the world!"answered the youth. "But, come, let me carry you to yonder house, whereyou can get dry and also get something to eat."
He assisted his parent to his feet, then lifted the man to his back andstarted off. A backwoodsman saw him coming, and ran to meet him. SoonMortimer Arbuckle was in the house and lying tucked in on a warm couch.
A relapse followed, coming almost immediately after father and son hadexchanged stories and detail. In alarm Dick sent off the backwoodsmanfor a doctor. The medical man was half an hour in coming. After athorough examination he looked grave.
"The man must be kept absolutely quiet," he said. "If you have beentalking to him it has done him more harm than good. You had better goaway and leave him among strangers."
In a further conversation Dick learned that the backwoodsman, Peter Day,and his wife were ready to take charge of the invalid for fair pay, andcould be trusted to do their best, and it was arranged to leave Mr.Arbuckle at the house, while Dick returned to camp, hunted up PawneeBrown and Jack Rasco and tried to get on the track of the man of the redmask.
"And if I ever get hold of him I'll--I'll--mash him," said Dick, and thelook on his youthful but stern face told that he meant just what hesaid. The western idea of shooting had not yet entered his mind, but woeto Louis Vorlange if his villainy was once unmasked.
"Do not worry about me, father," said Dick taking his departure. "I willtake care of myself, and I am sure that either Pawnee Brown, Jack Rascoor myself can get on the track of the rascal who robbed and struck youdown."
"Be cautious, Dick," murmured the sick man. "Be cautious--for you areall the world to me!" and he kissed his son affectionately.
"Who could have attacked father?" he murmured, half aloud. "It was adastardly thing to do. I must find out, even if I have to remain in thecity. But who knows but what it was one of the boomers? Perhaps the mansaw father had money and only asked about his papers to put him off thetrack. As a rule, the boomers are as honest as men can be, but there areseveral hang-dog faces among them."
Dick had covered a distance of half a mile and was within sight of thespot where he had been rescued by Pawnee Brown from a watery grave, whena murmur of voices broke upon his ear, coming from a thicket down by theriver bank. The murmur grew louder and he paused to listen.
Suddenly two pistol shots rang out, followed by a cry of pain and rage.There was a brief silence, then came the words which made Dick's heartalmost stop beating:
"Now I'll fix you for helping to r
un me out of town, Jack Rasco! I neverforget my enemies!"