CHAPTER XXXI

BOB GOES IT ALONE

Before the two could draw out of sight they were discovered by Barker, who was slightly ahead of his companions.

“Hullo, there!” he sang out. “There they are, boys!”

“It’s so, for a fact,” said Casco. “Are they alone?”

“Sure, an’ they are,” put in Grogan.

“A good chance to capture them,” suggested Raymond.

“What good will it do?” asked Barker. “The new plan will work all right anyway.”

“Better bag them until the thing is over.”

“That’s so,” said Casco. “Come on, we are four to two.”

He ran ahead, and the others quickly followed.

Frank saw them coming, and he whipped up his horse.

“We must drive for it, Bob!” he cried. “They are too many for us.”

“I would rather stand and fight it out,” returned the young photographer.

But Frank urged him to follow, and to please his companion Bob did so. As Barker and his companions were on foot they soon outdistanced the crowd, and then Bob called Frank to hold up.

“What’s best to do now?” questioned the young man.

“I have a plan,” said Bob. “You go back to Dartinville and wait for the detectives while I keep my eyes on this crowd.”

“That’s asking too much of you, Bob.”

“No, it isn’t. I will follow them wherever they go, and I will leave a paper trail behind me so that you and your men can follow me up. That will be the easiest way of tracking them down.”

“A paper trail?”

“Yes. I have a couple of newspapers I will tear into strips.”

“Well, here is another, if you insist.”

“If you find the trail ends suddenly, look for a message on the last slip.”

“I will.”

“And take this horse and buggy, I will go after them on foot.”

For five minutes more the two discussed the plan, and then Frank drove off with Bob’s buggy tied fast in the rear.

Once on the ground, Bob lost no time in making his way back to the spot where they had discovered Barker and the others.

The young photographer was careful to keep out of sight, and now leaped the rail fence on the side of the road and pushed forward through the bushes.

To any one unaccustomed to this method of advancement it would have proved slow and laborious, but Bob knew how to go ahead, and he was too much interested to mind the fatigue entailed.

When Bob reached the spot, he found the enemy had moved on up the road, but he soon drew close enough to make out their conversation, which they carried on carelessly, as they continued up a narrow path leading to the red house on the Rayville road, mentioned in the message.

“What do you suppose they will do?” asked Raymond.

“Not much,” returned Casco. “I reckon they have got tired of chasing me.”

“It’s a wonder they don’t come down on your place, Raymond,” put in Barker.

“If they do, they’ll find out I skipped for California,” chuckled the hotel-keeper.

“But they just saw you.”

“It don’t make any difference. I’ve skipped, and the property belongs to my wife, so what can they do about it?”

There was a general laugh, and then Casco and Barker dropped slightly behind and began to converse in lower tones.

Bob could not hear what was said, but when he came to a break in the brush he peered out and saw Casco hand Barker a thick packet, done up in a large envelope.

“The papers and letters stolen from Blake,” muttered the young photographer to himself. “I must get them without fail.”

A short while later the crowd reached the red house, a low structure, built of bricks, many of which were cracked and crumbled.

All entered the house, and Bob saw the door closed, and heard no more.

The youth had been dropping slips of paper all the way. He now took a larger slip and wrote this message upon it:

“All in the red house. I am going in to listen. If I am all right, I will come back for this slip.”

Bob had just finished writing the slip when a low rumble of thunder reached his ears. He glanced up and saw that a shower was coming up from the west.

“Good!” he muttered. “The darkness and the wind may help me.”

Two sides of the red house were surrounded by trees and bushes, and darting among them the youth had no difficulty in reaching a side door, which stood partly open.

Listening intently, the young photographer heard a murmur of voices in the front, showing that the crowd had entered what had once been a sitting-room.

Throwing a number of strips of paper just outside of the door, Bob pushed his way inside.

All was full of dirt and cobwebs, but to this the youth paid no attention. He had a mission, and he felt in duty bound to fulfil it, despite either dirt or danger.

From the side entry Bob passed into the rear room, which was separated from the sitting-room by a stairway leading to the second story.

Under these stairs were a door leading to the sitting-room and also a deep closet.

Peeping through the key-hole of the door, Bob saw the entire crowd seated around a table in the centre of the room, smoking and drinking.

“It’s almost time Mavelt was here,” observed Barker. “He is taking all day to send that message.”

“Perhaps he is waiting for an answer,” suggested Casco. “Did you tell him not to wait?”

“No.”

“Then that is what he is doing.”

“Where is Horning?”

“He said he would be here later.”

“We want this thing fully understood,” put in Raymond. “I admit it’s a big scheme, but if it don’t work, we’ll all be sent up for ten years or more.”

“We’ll be sint up for loife,” remarked Grogan. “’Tis no small wurruk to throw a train off the track.”

“We won’t throw her off unless it’s necessary,” said Barker. “Rankin will set the signal if all is safe and----”

Bob could not catch what followed, for a burst of thunder drowned out all other sound.

Yet he had heard enough. The evildoers were plotting to throw a certain train off the track, unless matters were all right. What was meant by all right? Casco’s words shortly afterward solved the question.

“The express car will carry over forty thousand dollars on her trip, and Rankin will be in charge,” he said. “If he gets no chance to throw it off, he will pull the bell-rope, jump off and join us. Then, when the train starts, we will throw over that loose rail, and over goes the train.”

“And what then?” put in Raymond.

“I have a key to the safe, which has an ordinary lock, not a combination. You men can overpower the agent in charge while pretending to help the passengers, while I open the safe. We can carry axes to clear away such of the wreck as is necessary, and Grogan can be on the wagon.”

“An’ it’s a good tame of horses Oi have for the occasion,” said the Irishman.

“With the boodle in our possession we can make off at top speed,” went on Casco. “Then we will meet here, divide up equally, and separate.”

“Yes, but if Rankin says it’s all right----”

Another burst of thunder followed. Then came heavy drops of rain, followed by a perfect deluge.

The conversation continued, but Bob could only catch an occasional word, and leaving the door he walked back to the entry.

“They are a nice gang of rascals and no mistake,” thought the youth. “For the sake of gaining money they would derail a train, and perhaps kill many passengers. Frank can’t get here with those detectives any too soon.”

Bob looked outside. The rain was coming down in a perfect sheet, while the murky air seemed to be filled with lightning.

“If it wasn’t such a fearful storm, I would walk back to Dartinville, or up to Rayville, and summon help,” he muttered to himself. “But I couldn’t make any progress in such a storm as this. Phew! how the wind blows!”

A sharp streak of lightning followed which made everything as bright as though the sun were shining.

Somewhat blinded, Bob shrank back. As he did so, a hand was placed on his collar, and he was jerked rudely backward.