CHAPTER VII.
TIED TO A TREE
When Ben and his friend Bradley left the cabin in search of Ki Sing, they were puzzled to fix upon the direction in which it was best to go. There was no particular reason to decide in favor of any one against the others.
"Shall we separate, Jake, or shall we go together?" asked Ben.
"I think we had better stick together, Ben. Otherwise, if one succeeds he won't have any way of letting the other know."
"That's true."
"Besides, we may need each other's help," added Bradley.
"You mean in case Ki Sing has met with an accident?"
"Well, no; I don't exactly mean that, Ben."
"Perhaps," said Ben, laughing, "you think two pairs of eyes better than one."
"That's true, Ben; but you haven't caught my idea."
"Then, suppose you catch it for me and give me the benefit of it."
"I think," said Bradley, not smiling at this sally of Ben's, "that our Chinese friend has fallen in with some rough fellows who have done him harm."
"I hope not," said Ben, sobered by this suggestion.
"So do I. Ki Sing is a good fellow, if he is a heathen, and I'd like to scalp the man that ill-treats him."
"There are not many travellers among these mountains."
"No, but there are some. Some men are always pulling up stakes and looking for better claims. Besides, we are here, and why shouldn't others come here as well?"
"That is so."
"I think, Ben, we'll keep along in this direction," said Bradley, indicating a path on the eastern slope of the hill. "I haven't any particular reason for it, but I've got a sort of idea that this is the right way."
"All right, Jake; I will be guided by you. I hope you're mistaken about Ki Sing's fate. Why couldn't he have fallen and sprained his ankle, like Mr. Dewey?"
"Of course he could, but it isn't likely he has."
"Why not?"
"Because Chinamen, I have always noticed, are cautious and supple. They are some like cats; they fall on their feet. They are not rash like white men, but know better how to take care of their lives and limbs. That's why I don't think Ki Sing has tumbled down or hurt himself in any way."
"Of course he wouldn't leave us without notice," said Ben, musingly.
"Certainly not: that isn't Ki Sing's way. He's faithful to Dick Dewey, and won't leave him as long as Dick is laid up. I never had much idea of Chinamen before, and I don't know as I have now, but Ki Sing is a good fellow, whatever you may say of his countrymen. They're not all honest. I was once robbed by a Chinaman, but I'll bet something on Ki Sing. He might have robbed Dick when he was helpless and dependent, before we came along, but he didn't do it. There are plenty of white men you couldn't say that of."
"For instance, the gentlemen who stole our horses."
"It makes me mad whenever I think of that little transaction," said Bradley. "As for that braggart, Mosely, he'll come to grief some of these days. He'll probably die with his boots on and his feet some way from the ground. Before that happens I'd like a little whack at him myself."
"I owe him a debt too," said Ben. "His running off with my mustang cost me a good many weary hours. But hark! what's that?" said Ben, suddenly.
"What's what?"
"I thought I heard a cry."
"Where away?"
"To the left."
Jake Bradley halted and inclined his ear to listen.
"Ben," said he, looking up, "I believe we're on the scent. That cry came either from a Chinaman or a cat."
Ben couldn't help laughing, in spite of the apprehensions which the words of his companion suggested. "Let us push on, then," he said.
Three minutes later the two came in sight of poor Ki Sing, chafing in his forced captivity and making ineffectual attempts to release himself from his confinement.
"That's he, sure enough," exclaimed Jake Bradley, excited. "The poor fellow's regularly treed."
The Chinaman had not yet seen the approach of his friends, for he happened to be looking in another direction.
"Ki Sing!" called Ben.
An expression of relief and joy overspread the countenance of the unfortunate captive when he saw our hero and Bradley.
"How came you here, Ki Sing?" asked Bradley. "Did you tie yourself to the tree?"
"No, no," replied the Chinaman, earnestly. "Velly bad men tie Ki Sing."
"How many of them bad men were there?" queried Bradley.
"Two."
"That's one apiece for us, Ben," said Bradley. "There a job ahead for us."
At the same time he busied himself in cutting the cord that confined the poor Chinaman to the tree, and Ki Sing, with an expression of great relief and contentment, stretched his limbs and chafed his wrists and ankles, which were sore from the cutting of the cord.
"Now, Ki Sing, tell us a little more about them men. What did they look like?"
The Chinaman, in the best English he had at command, described the two men who had perpetrated the outrage.
"Did you hear either of them call the other by name?" inquired Bradley.
"One Billee; the other Tommee," answered Ki Sing, who remembered the way in which they addressed each other.
"Why, those are the names of the men who stole our horses!" said Ben, in surprise.
"That's so!" exclaimed Bradley, in excitement. "It would be just like them scamps to tie up a poor fellow like Ki Sing.—I say, Ki, did them fellows have horses?"
"Yes," answered the Chinaman.
"I believe they're the very fellows," cried Bradley. "I hope they are, for there's a chance of overhauling them.—Why did they tie you, Ki Sing?"
Ki Sing explained that they had tried to induce him to guide them to Richard Dewey's cabin, but that he was sure they wanted to steal his gold, and he had led them astray.
"That's the sort of fellow Ki Sing is," said Bradley, nodding to Ben; "you see, he wouldn't betray his master."
"So they tie me to tlee," continued the poor fellow. "I thought I stay here all night."
"You didn't take us into the account, Ki Sing. When these scoundrels left you where did they go?"
Ki Sing pointed.
"And you think they went in search of the cabin?"
"Yes—they say so."
"Did they know we were there—Ben and I?"
"No; me only say Dickee Dewey."
"Did you say that Dewey was sick?"
"Yes."
"It is clear," said Bradley, turning to Ben, "that them rascals were bent on mischief. From what Ki Sing told them they concluded that Dewey would be unable to resist them, and that they would have a soft thing stealing his gold-dust."
"They may have found the cabin and be at work there now," suggested Ben.
"So they may," answered Bradley, hastily. "What a fool I am to be chattering here when Dick may be in danger!—Stir your stumps, Ki Sing. We're goin' back to the cabin as fast as our legs can carry us. I only hope we'll be in time to catch the scoundrels."
Not without anxiety the three friends retraced their steps toward the little mountain-hut which was at present their only home.
CHAPTER VIII.
TURNING THE TABLES
When the three friends came in view of the cabin, the first sight which attracted their attention was the two mustangs, who stood, in patient enjoyment of the rest they so much needed, just outside. Their unlawful owners, as we know, were engaged inside in searching for gold-dust, without the slightest apprehension or expectation of interference.
"That's my mustang," exclaimed Bradley in a tone of suppressed excitement. "I never looked to lay eyes on him again, but, thank the Lord! the thief has walked into a trap which I didn't set for him. We'll have a reckoning, and that pretty soon."
"How do you know it's your mustang?" asked Ben.
"There's a white spot on the left flank. The other one's yours: I know it by his make, though I can't lay hold of any sign. Even if I didn't know him, his bein' in company with mine makes it stand to reason that it belongs to you."
"I shall be glad to have it again," said Ben, "but we may have a tussle for them."
"I'm ready," said Jake Bradley, grimly.
By this time they had come to a halt to consider the situation.
"I don't hear anything," said Bradley, listening intently. "I expect the skunks must be inside. Pray Heaven they haven't harmed poor Dewey!"
Just then Dewey's voice was heard, and they were so near that they could distinguish his words.
"Well, gentlemen," he said, "how are you getting on? Have you found anything yet?"
"No, curse it!" responded Mosely. "Suppose you give us a hint."
"Thank you, but I don't see how that's going to benefit me. If you find the money you mean to take it, don't you?"
"I should say so," answered Tom Hadley, frankly.
Richard Dewey smiled. "I commend your frankness," he said. "Well, you can't expect a man to assist in robbing himself, can you?"
"You're mighty cool," growled Bill Mosely.
"On the contrary, my indignation is very warm, I assure you."
"Look here, Dewey," said Mosely, pausing: "I'm goin' to make you a proposition."
"Go on."
"Of course we shall find this gold-dust of yours, but it's rather hard and troublesome work; so I'll tell you what we'll do. If you'll tell us where to find it, we'll leave a third of it for you. That'll be square, won't it? One part for me, one for my pard, and one for you? What do you say?"
"That you are very kind to allow me a third of what belongs wholly to me. But even if I should think this a profitable arrangement to enter into, how am I to feel secure against your carrying off all of the treasure?"
"You can trust to the honor of a gentleman," laid Mr. William Mosely, pompously.
"Meaning you?" asked Dewey, with a laugh.
"Meaning me, of course, and when perhaps for myself, perhaps for my pard also—eh, Tom?"
"I should say so, Bill."
"I've heard there's honor among thieves," said Dewey, smiling, "and this appears to be an illustration of it. Well, gentlemen, I'm sorry to say I don't feel that confidence in your honor or your word which would justify me in accepting your kind proposal."
"Do you doubt my word?" blustered Mosely.
"I feel no doubt on the subject," answered Dewey.
"I accept your apology," said Mosely; "it's lucky you made it. Me and my friend don't stand no insults. We don't take no back talk. We're bad men when we get into a scrimmage—eh, Tom?"
"I don't doubt your word in the least," said Dewey. "It gives me pleasure to assent cordially to the description you give of yourselves."
Tom Hadley, who was rather obtuse, took this as a compliment, but Mosely was not altogether clear whether Dewey was not chaffing them. "That sounds all right," said he, suspiciously, "if you mean it."
"Oh, set your mind quite at rest on that subject, Bill, if that is your name. You may be sure that I mean everything I say."
"Then you won't give us a hint where to dig?"
"I am sorry to disoblige you, but I really couldn't."
"Do you hear that, Ben?" said Jake Bradley, his mouth distended with a grin. "Dick's chaffin' them scoundrels, and they can't see it. It looks as if they was huntin' for the gold-dust. They haven't found anything yet, and they haven't hurt Dick, or he wouldn't talk as cool as he does."
There was a brief conference, and then the first movement was made by the besieging-party.
Ki Sing, by Bradley's direction, walked to the entrance of the hut and looked placidly in.
As Mosely looked up he saw the Chinaman's face looking like a full moon, and for an instant he was stupefied. He could not conceive how his victim could have escaped from his captivity.
"Tom," he ejaculated, pointing to the doorway, "look there!"
"I should say so!" ejaculated Tom Hadley, no less surprised than his friend.
"How did you get here?" demanded Bill Mosely, addressing the Chinaman.
"Me walk up hill," answered Ki Sing, with a bland smile.
"How did you get away from the tree? That's what I mean, you stupid."
"Fliend come along—cut stling," answered the Chinaman, pronouncing his words in Mongolian fashion.
Bill Mosely was startled. So Ki Sing had a friend. Was the friend with him? "Where is your friend?" he asked abruptly.
"That my fliend," said the crafty Ki Sing, pointing to his master on the pallet in the corner.
"Yes, Ki Sing," said Dewey, "we are friends and will remain so, my good fellow."
Though he did not quite understand why Ben and Jake Bradley did not present themselves, he felt sure that they were close at hand, and that his unwelcome visitors would very soon find it getting hot for them.
"Look here, you yellow baboon!" said Bill Mosely, angrily, "you know what I mean. This man here didn't free you from the tree. Anyway, you were a fool to come back. Do you know what I am going to do with you?"
Ki Sing shook his head placidly.
"I am going to tie you hand and foot and roll you down hill. You'd better have stayed where you were."
"No want loll down hillee," said the Chinaman, without, however, betraying any fear.
"I sha'n't ask whether you like it or not. But stop! Perhaps you can help us. Do you know where the gold-dust is?"
"Yes," answered Ki Sing.
Bill Mosely's face lighted up with pleasure. He thought he saw the way out of his difficulty.
"That's the very thing!" he cried, turning to his partner—"eh, Tom?"
"I should say so, Bill."
"Just show us where it is, and we won't do you any harm."
"If my fliend, Dickee Dewee, tell me to, I will," said Ki Sing.
Dewey, thus appealed to, said, "No, Ki Sing; they only want to rob me, and I am not willing to have you show them."
"You'd better shut up, Dewey," said Mosely, insolently; "you're a dead duck, and you're only gettin' this foolish heathen into trouble. We've got tired of waitin' 'round here, and—"
"I am ready to excuse you any time," said Dewey. "Don't stay on my account, I beg. In fact, the sooner you leave the better it will please me."
Bill Mosely, who didn't fancy Dewey's sarcasm, frowned fiercely and turned again to Ki Sing. "Will you show us or not?" he demanded.
"Velly solly," said Ki Sing, with a childish smile, "but Dickee Dewee won't let me."
With an oath Mosely sprang to the doorway and tried to clutch the Chinaman, when the latter slid to one side and Jake Bradley confronted him.
"You'd better begin with me, Bill Mosely," he said.
CHAPTER IX.
BRADLEY'S SIGNAL VICTORY
Bill Mosely started back as if he had seen a rattlesnake, and stared at Jake Bradley in mingled surprise and dismay.
"You didn't expect to see me, I reckon?" said Bradley, dryly.
Mosely still stared at him, uncertain what to say or what to do.
"I take it very kind of you to bring back the hosses you borrowed a few weeks since. You took 'em rather sudden, without askin' leave; it was a kind of oversight on your part."
"I don't know what you mean," answered Mosely, determined to brazen it out and keep the horses if possible, for he was lazy and a pedestrian tramp would not have suited him very well.
"You know what I mean well enough, Bill Mosely. If you don't, them mustangs outside may refresh your recollection. They look kinder fagged out. You've worked 'em too hard, Mosely."
"Those mustangs are ours. We bought 'em," said Mosely, boldly.—"Didn't we, Tom?"
"I should say so," remarked Hadley, with striking originality.
"That's a lie, Tom," remarked Bradley, calmly, "and you know it as well as I do."
"Are we goin' to stand that, Tom?" blustered Mosely, whose courage was beginning to revive, as he had thus far only seen Bradley, and considered that the odds were two to one in his favor. Of course the Chinaman counted for nothing.
Tom Hadley looked a little doubtful, for he could see that the enemy, though apparently single-handed, was a man of powerful frame and apparently fearless even to recklessness. He had a strong suspicion that Bill Mosely was a coward and would afford him very little assistance in the event of a scrimmage.
"If you can't stand it," said Bradley, "sit down, if you want to."
Thus far, Richard Dewey had remained silent, but he wished to participate in the defence of their property if there should be need, and of course must be released first.
"Jake," said he, "these fellows have tied me hand and foot. They couldn't have done it if I had not been partially disabled. Send in Ki Sing to cut the cords."
"They dared to tie you?" said Bradley, sternly.—"Mosely, what was that for?"
"To remove one obstacle in the way of plunder," Dewey answered for them.
"They're not only hoss-thieves, but thieves through and through. Since they tied you, they must untie you.—Mosely, go and cut the cords."
"I am not a slave to be ordered round," returned Mosely, haughtily.
"What are you, then?"
"A gentleman."
"Then you'll be a dead gentleman in less than a minute if you don't do as I tell you."
As he spoke he drew out his revolver and levelled it at Mosely.
The latter turned pale. "Don't handle that we'pon so careless, stranger," he said. "It might go off."
"So it might—as like as not," answered Bradley, calmly.
"Put it up," said Mosely, nervously.—"Tom, just cut them cords."
"Tom, you needn't do it.—Mosely, you're the man for that duty. Do you hear?"
Bill Mosely hesitated. He didn't like to yield and be humiliated before the man over whom he had retained so long an ascendency.
"You'd better be quick about it," said Bradley, warningly. "This here we'pon goes off terrible easily. I don't want to shoot you, but there might be an accident. I've killed twenty-one men with it already. You'll be the twenty-second."
That was hint enough. Pride gave way, and Bill Mosely knelt down and cut the cords which confined Dewey, and the invalid, with a sense of relief, sat up on his pallet and watched the conference.
"There! are you satisfied?" asked Mosely, sullenly.
"It'll do as far as it goes, Mosely," said Bradley. "I wouldn't advise you to try any more of them tricks."
He lowered his weapon, and was about to replace it, when Mosely, who had made a secret sign to his companion, sprang forward simultaneously with Tom Hadley and seized the intrepid Bradley.
The attack was sudden, and also unexpected, for Bradley had such a contempt for the prowess of William Mosely that he had not supposed him capable of planning or carrying out so bold an attack. It must be admitted that he was taken at disadvantage, and might have been temporarily overpowered, for Tom Hadley was strong, and Mosely, though a coward, was nerved by desperation.
Richard Dewey saw his friend's danger, but, unhappily, he had no weapon at hand.
But help was not long in coming.
Concealed by the walls of the cabin, Ben had heard all that had been said, and observed the attack upon his comrade.
He did not hesitate a moment, but sprang forward and showed himself at Bradley's side.
"Let him go, or I'll shoot," he exclaimed in a tone of command, pointing at Mosely the twin brother of the revolver which Bradley owned.
"Confusion!" ejaculated Mosely, in fresh dismay.
"Let go," repeated Ben, firmly.
Bill Mosely released Bradley, and the latter threw off the grasp of Tom Hadley.
"Now," said he, as standing side by side with Ben he confronted the two thieves, "shall we shoot?"
"No, no," said Mosely, nervously.
"Serve you right if we did. So you thought you'd got me, did you? You didn't know about Ben, there. He ain't half your size, but he's got twice the courage.—Ben, what shall we do with them?"
Bill Mosely turned toward Ben, anxious to hear what our hero would say. He was entirely in the power of the two friends, as he realized.
"Serve them as they served Ki Sing," suggested Ben.
"That's a good idea, that is!—Here, you two rascals, trot out here."
Following directions, the two men emerged from the cabin and stood on one side of the doorway, feeling that they would gladly be in some other part of California at that precise moment.
"Mosely, do you see that tree?"
"Yes."
"Go to it."
Bill Mosely slowly and unwillingly proceeded to do as he was told.
"Ki Sing," said Jake Bradley to the Chinaman, who was standing near at hand, his face wearing a bland and contented smile, "have you any cord in your pocket?"
"Yes," answered the Celestial.
"Tie that man to the tree."
Ki Sing approached to follow instructions, when Bill Mosely shouted, "I'll brain you, you yaller heathen, if you dare to touch me!"
"Just as you say, squire," said Bradley, nonchalantly raising his revolver; "if you'd prefer to be shot I'm a very accommodatin' man, and I'll oblige you. I guess it'll be better, as we'll save all trouble."
"Stop! stop!" cried Mosely, in dismay. "He can tie me."
"You've changed your mind. I thought you would," said Bradley.—"Ki Sing, go ahead."
With native dexterity, and not without a feeling of satisfaction easily understood under the circumstances, Ki Sing proceeded to tie his former captor, but present captive, to a stout sapling.
"Is it strong?" asked Bradley.
"Velly stlong," answered the Chinaman, with a satisfied look.
"That's good.—Now, Tom, it's your turn. There's your tree! Annex yourself to it."
Tom Hadley saw the futility of resistance, and quietly allowed himself to be confined in the same manner as his companion.
When both were thus disposed of Jake Bradley turned to the Chinaman:
"Now, Ki Sing, let us have some supper as soon as possible. We've been doin' considerable business, Ben and I, and we're as hungry as bears.—Good-night, Mosely. Hope you'll have a good night's rest!"
"You are not going to leave us here all night, are you?" said Bill Mosely, uneasily.
"That's just what I'm goin' to do. I'll let you go in the mornin' if you behave yourself. Still, if you'd rather be shot I can accommodate you."
"What a bloodthirsty brute!" ejaculated the unhappy Mosely as Bradley disappeared within the doorway.
"I should say so!" echoed Tom Hadley from the other tree.