CHAPTER XXIV.

  CHASED BY CAVALRY.

  "Checkmated! By Jove, but this is too bad."

  Such were the words which issued from Pawnee Brown's lip as he swungaround and saw the cavalrymen sitting on their horses at attention.

  His disappointment was keen. In speaking of it afterwards he said:

  "I never felt so bad in my life. I had promised to take the boomersthrough and I felt that I had disappointed nearly four thousand peoplewho were looking to me with utmost confidence."

  But disappointment was not the worst of it. Hardly had the command tohalt been issued than the captain of the troops advanced toward thescout.

  "Pawnee Brown!" he ejaculated, in surprise, and a smile of satisfactioncrossed his face. "This is a great pleasure."

  "Is it?" answered the great scout, coldly.

  "It is indeed. Do you intend to throw up your hands?"

  For the scout's hands had not yet been lifted skyward.

  "This looks as if you meant to arrest me, captain."

  "Why shouldn't I? You are at the head of the Kansas boomers, are younot?"

  "I have that honor, yes."

  "It's a question to me if it is an honor. You are transgressing the lawsof the United States when you try to get into Oklahoma for homesteadpurposes."

  "Say rather that we transgress the laws of the cattle kings, captain.Under the U. S. Homestead Law we have a perfect right to this land, ifwe can get in and stake our claims, and you know it."

  "I know nothing of the sort. This talk about the cattle kings is allnonsense!" roared the cavalry officer. He knew Pawnee Brown was morethan half right, but felt he must obey the orders he had received fromhis superiors. "I'll have to take you to the fort."

  "All right, take me--if you can, captain," came the quick answer. "Don'tyou dare fire on me, for you know I am a crack shot and I promise I'llfire on you in return and lay you low!"

  Thus speaking, the boomer wheeled about and sent Bonnie Bird off like ashot along the trail he had come.

  The movement was so quick that for the moment the cavalry officer wasparalyzed and knew not what to do. He raised his long pistol, butPawnee Brown's stern threat rang in his ears and he hesitated aboutusing the weapon, having no desire to be laid low.

  "After him, men!" he roared, upon recovering his wits. "We must capturehim!"

  "Shall we fire, cap'n?" came from several, and a number of shiningpistol barrels were leveled toward the great scout.

  "N--no, capture him alive," came the hesitating reply; and away went thecalvary men at a breakneck speed in pursuit.

  Looking back over his shoulder, Pawnee saw them coming. To lessen thechances of being shot, he bent low over his faithful mare's neck.

  "On, Bonnie, on!" he cried softly, and the beautiful animal seemed tounderstand that it was a race for life and death.

  "Crack!" It was the report of a pistol close at hand. Looking among thetrees, Pawnee Brown saw an arm wearing the colors of a cavalrymandisappearing among the foliage of a nearby tree. He aimed his own weaponand pulled the trigger. A yell of pain followed.

  The marksman had been Tucker, the fellow hired to take the great scout'slife. Tucker had been on picket duty for the cavalry troop, but hadfailed to note Pawnee Brown's first movement in that direction. Seeingthe scout coming, he had instantly thought of the promised reward andtaken aim. The bullet had struck Pawnee Brown's shoulder, merely,however, scraping the skin. On the return fire Tucker was hit in theside and nearly broke his neck in a tumble backward into a hole behindhim.

  The chase was not of long duration. Although they had good steeds, notone of the cavalryman's horses could gain upon the scout's sturdy racingmare, and soon they dropped further and further behind. Seeing this,Pawnee Brown turned to the eastward, out of the ravine, and in threeminutes had his pursuers entirely off the trail.

  His face grew thoughtful as he allowed Bonnie Bird to drop into a walk.The cavalry had followed the wagon train westward--they were bound tokeep the boomers in sight. What was to be done? Should he advise anothermovement during the night to come and then a forward dash?

  "We might make it," he mused. "But if we did not there would be afearful fight and possibly slaughter. I wish I knew just how matterswere going at Washington."

  Pawnee Brown had friends at the Capital, men who were doing their bestto defeat the cattle kings by having a bill passed in Congress openingOklahoma to settlement--a bill that would smooth the present difficultyfor all concerned. He felt that the bill was not needed, yet it would bebetter to have such a law than to have some of the boomers killed beforetheir rights could be established.

  "I'll send a messenger off to the nearest telegraph station andtelegraph for the news," he went on. "A day's delay may mean many livessaved. It shall never be said that Pawnee Brown rushed in, heedless ofthe danger to those who trusted in him."

  It was not long before the scout reached the boomers' camp. Here hefound several waiting for him.

  "I want to see Pawnee Brown." It was Dan Gilbert, who was making his waythrough the crowd to the great scout's side. Gilbert held a message fromArkansas City. It was to the effect that Pawnee Brown should telegraphto Washington at once and wait until noon at Arkansas City for a reply.

  Five minutes later Pawnee Brown was on the trail over which the wagontrain had journeyed the night before. He had told Gilbert, Clemmer andthe others of the nearness of the Government cavalrymen and had adviseda halt until further orders from himself. Clemmer had promised to wait,although ready "ter swoop down on 'em, b' gosh, an' take wot belongster us," as he expressed himself.

  The ride back to Arkansas City was an uneventful one, and arrivingthere, Pawnee Brown lost no time in visiting the telegraph office.

  "A message for you," said the operator, and handed it over.

  It was from Washington and stated: "The Oklahoma bill is now before theLower House; wait for more news."

  "I'm glad we've woke up those politicians at Washington," murmured thescout, and then wrote out a telegram in reply.

  There was now nothing to do but to wait, and impatient as he was torejoin the boomers, Pawnee Brown had to content himself until anothermessage should reach him. To make the time pass more quickly the greatscout went around to a number of places buying supplies that were muchneeded.

  An hour later he found himself on the outskirts of the city, whence hehad come to look up several wagons, to replace some that had brokendown. He was galloping along on horseback when the sight of two menquarreling near the open doorway of a deserted barn caught his eye, andimpelled by something which was more than curiosity, he turned in fromthe road to see how the quarrel might end. As he came closer he sawthat one of the men was Mortimer Arbuckle!

  "Hullo, what can this mean?" he cried, softly. "I thought Dick's fatherwas still in bed from the effects of that dastardly night's work. Whocan that stranger be?"

  Dismounting, he tied Bonnie Bird to a tree and came forward, but in linewith the barn, that he might not be seen. Soon he was within easyhearing distance of all that was being said.

  "I want to know what brought you out here, Dike Powell?" he heard Mr.Arbuckle say in excited tones. "Did you follow me?"

  "No, I did not, Arbuckle," came in reply. "What makes you think I did?"

  "I was knocked down and robbed but a few nights ago, and my mostvaluable papers, as well as my money, were taken from me."

  "Do you mean to insinuate that I am a thief?" cried Dike Powell.

  "You are none too good for it. I have not forgotten how you used tosneak around my office in New York after information concerning myWestern mining claims."

  "You're getting mighty sharp, Arbuckle."

  "I hope I am. I used to feel queer in my head at times, but--but--Ithink I am growing better of that."

  As he spoke Mortimer Arbuckle drew his white hand across his forehead.

  The attack and the adventure on the river had been fearful, but itreally looked as if they were going to prove of benefi
t to him. His eyeswere brighter than they had been for many a day. Pawnee Brown noticed,too, that his manner of talking was more direct than he usuallyemployed.

  "I hope for the boy's sake his mind is clearing," he thought.

  "I think you are growing more queer--to accuse me," said Dike Powell. "Inever harmed you."

  "I know better. While I was on my back I thought it all over. DikePowell, you are a villain, and if ever I get the chance I'll turn youover to the police. You have followed me to the West, and for no goodpurpose. I will unmask you."

  "Will you? Not much!"

  Thus speaking, Dike Powell leaped forward. He was a powerful man, andcatching Mortimer Arbuckle by the throat, he would have borne thesemi-invalid to the floor had not Pawnee Brown interfered.

  There was a rush and a crack, as the scout's fist met Dike Powell's ear,and over the man rolled, to bring up against the side of the barn with acrash.

  "Who--who hit me?" spluttered the rascal, as, half dazed, he staggeredto his feet. "If I--Pawnee Brown!"

  "Dike Powell!" ejaculated the scout, as he saw the fellow full in theface for the first time. "Where have you been these long years?"

  "Oh, Pawnee, how glad I am that you came in," panted Mortimer Arbuckle,sinking down upon an old feed box. "The villain was--was----"

  "I saw it all, Arbuckle; rest yourself. I will take care of thisforger."

  "Forger!" came simultaneously from Mortimer Arbuckle and from hisassailant, but in different tones of voice. "Do you then know DikePowell?"

  "Yes, I know him as Powell Dike, a forger, who fled from Peoria a dozenyears ago. And what do you know of him?"

  "I know him as a Wall street sneak--a man who was forever hangingaround, trying to get information out of which he might make a fewdollars. I have accused him of following me to the West. I am inclinedto think he robbed me----"

  "I did not," ejaculated Powell Dike, for such really was his name.

  "I believe you," replied Pawnee Brown. He had spoken to Dick and Rascoof this man. "But you know who did rob Mortimer Arbuckle," he went on,significantly.

  "I--I--do not," answered Powell Dike, but his lips trembled.

  "You lie, Dike. Now tell the truth."

  Pawnee Brown saw the manner of man he had to deal with and tapped hispistol. Instantly Powell Dike fell upon his knees.

  "Don't--don't shoot me!" he whined. "I'll tell all--everything. I am notdead positive, but--but I guess Louis Vorlange robbed Arbuckle."

  Pawnee Brown looked at Mortimer Arbuckle to see what effect thisdeclaration might have upon Dick's father. He saw the ex-stock brokerstart forward in amazement. Then he faltered, threw up his hands, andfell forward in a dead faint!

 
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