Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders in the High Sierras

CHAPTER XXIV

MAKING A LAST STAND

“You poor fish!” roared Hippy as he came up sputtering.

Stacy was making for the shore at full speed, creating considerable disturbance in the water as he progressed. Tom Gray and Hippy, concluding that safety first was the motto for them, were hitting up a rapid gait. The bullets, however, did not cease falling about them. All at once reports of other rifles, apparently fired close at hand, reached the ears of the swimmers.

“The girls are shooting!” cried Tom.

The Overland girls had run to camp for their rifles, and with them were trying to search out the hidden mountain marksmen, trusting to drive the mountaineers off, or at least to check their fire until their three companions could reach shore.

Hippy and Tom were swimming for the shore in the direction of the mountain cave. Observing this, the Overland girls ran forward to meet them.

“Hurry! Oh, hurry!” shouted Nora in great distress.

“They can’t reach us with their bullets now,” answered Hippy. “We are protected by the overhang of the mountain on their side.”

“Hippy is right. They have stopped shooting,” announced Grace.

At this juncture Stacy Brown floundered ashore and ran dripping towards the cave.

“Here, here! Where are you going?” called Elfreda.

“Into my bomb-proof shelter; that’s where I’m going,” flung back Stacy.

“You had better hide,” reminded Elfreda.

“Where’s that boy?” cried Hippy as he, too, floundered ashore.

“Never mind Stacy now. We have other and more important matters on hand,” answered Grace. “Hurry, Tom. I have sent Woo up among the rocks to act as lookout while we consider what to do next.”

“This is a fine mess. Here I am drenched to the skin, shivering like a man with the ague, and a band of scoundrels trying to shoot me up. Hospitable country, I must say,” complained Tom Gray.

“It might be worse. You and Hippy had better go into the cave and change your clothes,” suggested Grace.

“Change to what?”

“That’s so. It might be imprudent for any of us to go to camp for fresh clothing.”

“Come, girls, let’s gather wood and build a fire,” urged Miss Briggs. “We can build a small fire in the cave and let our men dry out in there and we will stand guard on the outside.”

“Good! That is real headwork,” agreed Tom. “Give me a handful of sticks and I’ll start a fire if you will provide the matches. Mine are soaked.”

Hippy had already started in search of Stacy Brown, but Stacy was not in sight. He had fled to the farther end of the cave, whence he was gazing apprehensively towards the opening.

“You may come out,” offered Hippy. “I’m too wet to have my interview with you now. When I get dried out I’ll have a friendly conversation with you. Come out!”

Stacy sidled out, watching Uncle Hip narrowly. Tom came in at this juncture, with an armful of twigs that the girls had gathered, and started a small fire.

“I don’t want to be smoked out,” complained Stacy.

“There is worse than that coming to you, young man,” reminded Tom. “At present, however, we have other things to attend to. Strip and dry out.”

“I don’t want to dry out. I want to be soaked,” retorted Stacy.

“Don’t worry. You’re going to be,” warned Lieutenant Wingate.

“If it hadn’t been for me you folks never would have discovered anything,” Stacy declared, turning a reproachful gaze on his two companions.

“And if it hadn’t been for you, I should not have been dumped into a lake of ice water twice in one day,” returned Hippy. “Tom, what is your idea of this shooting?”

“We have interfered with someone’s business, that’s plain,” replied Tom. “When we hauled up that box of plunder, or whatever it may be, they let go at us with their rifles. Nor is that the worst of it – we are in for more trouble, and I should not be at all surprised to see it break at any moment, I – ”

“Tom!” cried Grace Harlowe with a rising inflection in her voice.

“Yes?”

“Woo is running towards the cave, waving his arms. I think he has discovered something.”

Hippy nodded at Tom and began drawing on his wet clothing.

“May the girls go inside now?” called Grace.

“No! Keep out! We will be ready in a moment,” answered Hippy.

A shot, followed by a howl from Woo Smith, caused the two men to redouble their efforts. Hippy finished dressing first and ran out, rifle in hand, just as the guide came running up.

“Me savvy tlouble. Plenty men come ’long.”

“How many?” interjected Tom.

“Sees.”

“Six, eh? We ought to be able to handle them,” answered Hippy.

“There probably are more than six. What shall we do?” questioned Grace.

“All hands get inside the cave. From there we can watch the lake, and at the same time be fairly well protected,” directed Hippy.

Acting upon a hail from Tom that he was ready, the Overlanders hastened into the cave, where Woo was questioned in detail as to what he had observed. Having obtained all the information that the guide had to give, Hippy and Tom crept out, and lay secreted in the bushes in front of the cave to guard against surprises.

They had been there but a short time when Lieutenant Wingate discovered a man on the rocks about a hundred yards to the right of them. At almost the same instant Tom Gray nudged his companion.

“Two men are over in our camp,” he whispered.

“Don’t shoot. Time enough for that. They don’t know where we are. They – ” Hippy paused abruptly.

“They don’t, eh?” jeered Tom Gray as a bullet flattened itself on the rocks just above the opening into the cave. “Keep down in there!”

“I think they are merely trying to smoke us out,” answered Hippy calmly.

A scattering volley of bullets was fired at the cave opening as he spoke, but there was no response from the besieged Overland Riders. Elfreda called softly to know if the two men needed assistance, but both said all the assistance they needed just then was to be let alone.

“There go the ponies!” exclaimed Tom Gray.

When Hippy looked he saw three men leading the Overland saddle ponies into a defile in the mountains. Hippy threw up his rifle, but lowered it instantly.

“It won’t do any good to shoot. Then again I might hit a pony. What I want to do is to get a man. Sh-h-h-h!”

The man that Hippy had seen, but who had disappeared immediately afterward, he now discovered lying on a slab of rock up high enough to give him a fairly good view of the entrance to the cave.

“I see him. Don’t move. He is looking this way,” whispered Lieutenant Wingate.

After a few moments of cautious observation, the man on the rock crawled back and disappeared.

The day was rapidly drawing to a close and the two Overland men began to feel considerable concern. There was little hope in their minds that they were going to get out of their present situation that night. Tom and Hippy discussed the situation, and considered the idea of creeping away in the night, but finally concluded that their greatest safety lay in keeping out of sight and awaiting developments.

“It is their move first,” declared Tom. “And when they do start something we shall be on the job, though I am a little concerned about our ammunition. We have none to waste. It seems to me that there ought to be some in that cave, if the scoundrels are half as prudent as we think they are.”

Hippy called softly to Nora, asking her to have a thorough search of the cave made to see if ammunition might not be found. Half an hour later Nora reported that they could find none.

“Then we shall have to get along with what we have,” decided Tom Gray. “With what we have we ought to be able to give a pretty fair account of ourselves.”

Night fell, with the lake and the mountainsides bathed in a flood of moonlight, for the moon was full and well up. The fire in the cave had long since been put out so that the besiegers might not smell the smoke, and, shortly after dark, the girls passed out a luncheon, taken from the stores of food that Stacy Brown had discovered on his first visit to the cave. Tom and Hippy were munching this eagerly, when Tom uttered a suppressed exclamation.

“Look yonder!” he whispered.

“It’s the dugout!” breathed Hippy.

The dugout, with three men in it, was being rapidly paddled out into the lake, which was now quiet, a gleaming sheet of silver in the bright moonlight. The paddlers went straight to the log and began hauling up on the rope at one end.

“They are after the chests. What would you advise, Tom?” asked Hippy eagerly.

“We are going to shoot, that’s what,” answered Tom Gray, leveling his rifle. “I don’t want to hit anyone, but I do want to give them a scare.” Taking careful aim at the canoe, he fired – and missed. Tom shot again, and this time his bullet reached its mark – the dugout.

Hippy Wingate tried a shot and scored a hit the first time. The men in the dugout showed indications of panic.

“Let ’em have it hard,” urged Tom, whereupon both men began shooting, but the shooting was not confined to their own rifles. From somewhere on the mountain-side other rifles spoke, and bullets spattered against the rocks that stood out white in the moonlight, hard by the cave.

“They’ve located us!” cried Tom Gray. “Stacy, come out here, but creep out,” he ordered.

The fat boy came wriggling out, rifle in hand.

“See if you can find the fellows who are shooting at us; then stir them up,” directed Tom.

A few moments later, Chunky’s rifle spoke. In the meantime Tom and Hippy had been shooting at the boat, taking their time, aiming with deliberation, until finally the fire became too hot for the men in the dugout, and they paddled rapidly shoreward to the other side of the lake. Soon after their arrival there they began to shoot at the cave-mouth. Hippy and Tom then turned their rifles in that direction, but with what result they were unable to determine.

Stacy shot slowly and steadily, without apparent nervousness, and the two men began to feel respect for the irrepressible Chunky. After a time the fire on both sides died down and silence settled over the scene. Finally, Grace suggested that she and Elfreda relieve the men of their watch, which, after reflection, was agreed to. After a vigil of some hours Grace called for Tom and pointed towards the lake, that was shining in the moonlight.

“Is not something moving out there?” she questioned.

“Yes. It is those scoundrels after the chests again. Call Hippy!”

After watching the shadowy shape of the dugout for some moments the two Overland men again opened fire, and once more the dugout was hurriedly paddled ashore.

No further disturbance occurred that night. The girls went to sleep, but Lieutenant Wingate and Captain Gray remained on duty from that time on. All of the following day was spent in the cave, not a shot being fired on either side. The Overlanders were of the opinion that their adversaries were keeping out of sight for the purpose of luring the party out into the open, so they remained where they were.

Another night came on, and at about ten o’clock the Overland Riders were treated to a deluge of rifle bullets, which was not returned, as the ammunition supply was now too low.

“Grace, have you taken an inventory of the food?” asked Tom, after the firing had died down.

“Yes. We have enough for present needs, but have you considered that we may be held here until either we starve or are shot? I, for one, am in favor of making our escape. Take my word for it, our besiegers will play some trick that will prove our undoing,” declared Grace with strong conviction in her tone.

“We will stick it out another day,” answered Lieutenant Wingate.

“And walk all the way back to Gardner,” finished Elfreda Briggs. “I am of the opinion that – ”

“Hark!” warned Nora, holding up a hand for silence. A faint tapping sound was heard by all. It seemed to be somewhere over their heads, but no one was able to interpret the sound, and after a time it ceased.

“Something is doing. Get your rifles ready,” ordered Tom.

The words had no sooner left his lips than a heavy detonating explosion sent a shower of rock and dirt down over their heads. None of the pieces was large enough to injure the Overlanders, but the dust set them coughing and choking so that instinctively all crowded towards the cave entrance for air, and further, because of fear that the rocks above might cave in on them.

“That was dynamite!” exclaimed Tom Gray. “Either they are trying to bury us here or to drive us out.”

“And I am going out,” declared Lieutenant Wingate. “Tom, you stay here, but for goodness sake make the folks keep down. The first head I see I am going to shoot at. Give me some cartridges, each of you.”

Five minutes later Lieutenant Wingate was crawling out on his stomach as silently as an Indian. Once more he heard that familiar tapping on the rocks above the cave.

“The fiends!” he muttered. “I’ve got to get up to their level or go above them.” He decided to proceed to the left of the cave, then ascend and approach the rocks above it. This he succeeded in doing. About the time he came within sight of the rocks over the cave the ground was shaken by another explosion. In the bright moonlight, he saw three men running towards the scene.

Hippy threw up his rifle and fired. One of the three men plunged forward and rolled over the edge of the rocks, landing, as Lieutenant Wingate thought, near the entrance to the cave. The other two men instantly disappeared.

“One!” growled the Overland Rider, hurriedly removing himself from that particular locality. Reaching a point where he could look across the cave entrance, Hippy made a startling discovery. The second charge of dynamite had been fired close to the edge of the rocks overhanging the cave entrance, so that the falling rocks had blocked it entirely. Lieutenant Wingate now crawled to the entrance, not knowing what instant he might be the target for a bullet, and, placing his lips close to a crevice, called softly.

His hail was answered from within. To his great relief, he learned that none of his companions had been injured, but that they dared not try to remove the wreckage from the inside fearing they might bring down a mass of rocks. Hippy advised them to remain quiet until later when he would try to work his way in.

“Just now, I must keep a sharp lookout,” he added. Not another shot did he get at their adversaries, however, but just after daylight a rattling fire sprang up. Listening attentively, Hippy concluded that two parties were engaged in the shooting – at it “hammer and tongs,” as he expressed it. A few minutes later he saw two men running for the lake – saw them leap into the dugout and paddle excitedly towards the anchored log. He waited until they began to haul in on the rope at one end of the log, and then opened fire. One bullet bowled a man over. The other man grabbed the paddle and struck out for the shore with all speed. He had nearly reached it when a burst of fire from among the trees near where the Overland camp was located knocked the man over. He fell over backwards in the dugout, which slowly drifted ashore.

A group of horsemen at this juncture rode out into the open, and an instant later a bullet whistled past Hippy’s head.

“Gee whiz!” exclaimed Lieutenant Wingate. “I reckon the whole community has it in for me. I’ve got to have a look at those people.” With that Hippy worked his way cautiously through the bushes until he got an unobstructed view of the newcomers. The Overland Rider gazed, and as he did so his under jaw sagged.

“Ye-o-o-o-w!” yelled Hippy, leaping to his feet.

A rifle bullet answered him, but he was down ere it reached him. Once more he sprang up and fired three quick shots straight up into the air, then went down again. This time there was an interval, then the welcome answer – three signal shots – was fired. Hippy got up and waved his hat. He had recognized one member of that party. That member was Sheriff Ford.

“Overland!” shouted Lieutenant Wingate upon getting to his feet.

Sheriff Ford did not recognize him at once, but the party of horsemen rode towards him with rifles at ready, Hippy standing out in the open with hands held up. Sheriff Ford then uttered a shout as he recognized the Overland Rider.

It was a happy meeting – for Hippy Wingate. It took but a moment for explanations. A posse, with two sheriffs, including Ford, and five husky citizens of Gardner, had come out in search of the bandits who had tried to rob the Red Limited, and who were supposed to have held up and robbed another treasure train a week earlier.

On their way to release the Overland party, Hippy confided to Sheriff Ford the discovery of the iron chests secured to the log in the lake.

“I suppose there is a reward for the recovery of the plunder, but if there is, you take it. We don’t want it,” said Hippy.

Sheriff Ford protested, but Hippy said the Overland Riders could not consider accepting a reward under any circumstances. Ford said that in such event, the reward would be shared by the members of the posse, and that, in fact, the reward offered by the express company was the principal motive for the posse coming out to try to accomplish what the Pinkertons had thus far failed to do.

The Overlanders were, after considerable hard work, released from their imprisonment in the cave, and it was then that Ford told them of the fight with the bandits, who, he said, were all members of the Jones Boys’ gang. Of ten bandits, the posse had killed or wounded four. They found two who had been wounded before the arrival of the posse, one of whom, Hippy believed, was the fellow he had shot on the shelf of rock, and took four prisoners, including Mother Jones, the mother of the leaders of the gang. Four bandits had succeeded in escaping.

“Mother Jones!” exclaimed the Overlanders.

As it later developed, it was Mother Jones whose face had so frightened Woo, and which Grace Harlowe had seen reflected in the pool. Mother Jones had done the shooting at the Overlanders, following the Overland party’s discovery of the chests in the lake. It was Mother Jones who had fired at them when they were bombarding the lake with boulders.

No time was lost in getting the chests from the bottom of the lake, and none was more interested in the contents than were the original discoverers, the Overland Riders. The chests were found to contain something more than half a million dollars in gold and banknotes, but two other chests stolen from the same shipment never were found, though the lake was dragged from end to end. It was believed that the contents of the missing chests had been divided among the bandits and secreted somewhere in the mountains, but not a man of the Jones gang would admit this to be the fact.

The Overland ponies were found secreted in a mountain defile, and that night there was a jollification in camp, a real feast of venison and trout, songs and story-telling, even Woo Smith indulging in his familiar song, to which no one now objected. Stacy Brown overlooked no opportunity to call attention to the fact that he was the one who had discovered the treasure chests, discovered the log to which they were anchored, and said he supposed that the railroad or the express company owed him a hundred thousand dollars.