“halt! clifford henderson, i know you!” shouted the tutor, in a stentorian voice, as he threw off the bedclothes and started on a furious race for the intruder. “i know you, and you had better halt.”
he supposed, of course, that the object of his visit was robbery—and had no intention of using one of the cartridges in his revolver—until he came to his bedroom door and there saw scanlan, who had thrown a quilt over the boy’s head and started on a run after henderson, and then he stopped as if somebody had aimed a blow at him. then he saw that abduction was a part of henderson’s scheme, and in an instant his revolver was covering scanlan’s head.
“put that boy back on the bed where he belongs,” said the tutor.
[220]
scanlan took one look at the revolver, and at the man who held it, and readily obeyed.
“now throw the quilt off his head, so that he can breathe,” said the tutor; and the readiness with which scanlan complied disarmed the tutor, who lowered his revolver.
this was the move that scanlan was waiting for. in an instant he dropped on all-fours, shot under the out-stretched hand that held the deadly weapon, caught the tutor around the legs and tumbled him over on his back. it was all done with the greatest ease, and when the tutor scrambled to his feet scanlan had disappeared. he ran hastily to the head of the stairs, and he saw scanlan’s coat-tails vanishing as he made his way to the basement. he had tried the front door, but henderson had gone out there and had locked the door behind him. the tutor tried the front basement door also, and in the meantime scanlan had already gone out at that very door, not forgetting to knock over the candle in his hurried flight. that was the last they saw of scanlan. by the time the tutor had returned to his room he found mr. davenport[221] there, sitting on the bed and talking to bob.
“why, this looks like a case of abduction,” said mr. davenport, when the tutor came in. “did i hear you say that you recognized clifford henderson as one of the assailants?”
“well, i thought it was he, but i might have been mistaken,” replied the tutor, who did not want to say anything that would add to the old man’s fears.
“don’t deceive me. i heard your voice plain enough, and that was what you said. never mind, bob. we’ll soon be far enough away from him, and able to enjoy life in our own way. now i will go back to bed. no; the men had to take themselves off without getting anything,” he added, to the servants who came flocking into the room at that moment. “i wish you would find out where they got in and shut the window or door, whichever it is. clifford henderson! that man isn’t going to let me forget him, is he?” he muttered to himself. “i must see him and tell him that if he does not leave town i shall[222] have him arrested. i shall remember the tutor for this.”
and in the meantime where was clifford henderson? you know that before he went into this business he drew his money from the bank and packed his trunk for a long journey. he saw the need of it now. he never travelled faster than he did when he rushed from that door. he saw scanlan in the act of lifting the boy from the bed after throwing the quilt about him, but did not stop to speak to him. he made for the stairs, two jumps took him to the front door, and paying no heed to the friend he had left behind in a bad scrape, he ran through and locked the door behind him. and he had heard his name mentioned, too!
“i declare i am done for now,” muttered henderson, as he took his best pace down the sidewalk, utterly forgetful that there was a carriage in waiting for him, “and the next thing will be to avoid the police that my brother sets after me. for he will arrest me as sure as i live. scanlan will be arrested too, and there is that paper i gave him with[223] my name signed to it. ow! ow! don’t i wish that everybody was in danger the same as i am?”
if henderson hadn’t been so frightened that he was unable to look behind him, he would have seen scanlan come out of the basement door and take his flight in another direction; but henderson couldn’t think of anything but the tutor’s stentorian voice. “i know you and you had better halt!” it seemed to ring in his ears louder than ever the farther he got from the house, so that he increased his pace, and the first thing he knew ran slap into the arms of a policeman, who happened at that moment to come around the corner.
“hallo, here!” cried the officer. “where are you going in such a hurry?”
“do you know whether or not the commonwealth has sailed from this port yet?” asked henderson.
“no, i don’t!” answered the officer.
“well, my trunk is at my hotel, already packed, and i am in haste to catch her. i hope i shall get there before she sails.”
“why don’t you take a carriage?”
[224]
“i will just as soon as i get to my hotel. which way is the planter’s house from here?”
“go down this street to the next corner, and then go five blocks. good luck to you!”
“that thing is done easy enough, but the next policeman that stops me will be worse,” said henderson, continuing on his way. “he’ll say there is a signature waiting for you that i want you to explain, and how will i get out of it? well, we’ll wait until that time comes. i must do the best i can to escape now.”
henderson knew where the planter’s house was as well as anybody, but he followed the policeman’s directions. by the time he reached his destination he was pretty well winded. he engaged a carriage at the door, paid his bill at the hotel, and saw his trunk perched up beside the driver.
“go fast now, for i have not a minute to waste,” said henderson. “get me down there before that steamer sails and i will give you two dollars.”
in an hour more henderson was snug in bed[225] and listening to the puffing of the engines which were bearing him down the river. he had taken passage on a little boat that was bound for new orleans and had the room all to himself. in spite of his joy over his escape he could not help feeling bitter toward scanlan. why had he signed that paper? scanlan would be sure to be apprehended,—he couldn’t get away from that pistol,—and he would be searched at the police court, and the whole thing would come out against him.
“never mind; he’s in a bad fix,” said henderson, pounding a pillow into shape to fit his head. “and i don’t know but that i am in a worse one. i hope they will send him up so that i will never see him again. and then what will my friends think?”
filled with such thoughts as these we may readily conceive that henderson’s journey down the river was not a pleasant one, and it was only after they had left cairo, and were fairly afloat for new orleans, that he recovered his usual spirits. he remained in new orleans for a single day, and then took passage for galveston, from which place he went[226] to austin. he deposited his money there in the bank, secured a second rate boarding house, and settled down to see what the fates had in store for him.
“thank goodness, i am a free man at last!” said henderson. “i have not heard a word from st. louis since i left there, but i only hope scanlan has got his just dues. and here is the place bob was going to come. well, i’ll keep clear of him. i hope i may never hear of him again.”
as the years rolled by and nothing was heard about his attempted abduction of bob, or of scanlan either, henderson began to think that the matter was forgotten. by behaving himself henderson made many friends in texas, for it is not always the good who have blessings showered upon them except in story books. he made an honest effort at reform, and it is possible that he might have succeeded if it hadn’t been for one thing. he was a speculator in cattle,—he never was known as anything else,—and he finally got into the habit of riding out on the prairie, taking no money with him, to see[227] what he could buy. for texas was a new state, we had only just got through the war with mexico, and everybody who had any wrong done him, or had got into difficulty with his fellow-man, came to texas to begin over again. anyone, too, who found the law too strict for him in older communities, could come here and get out of the reach of it.
on one occasion henderson started out alone to visit some ranches he had heard of, but which seldom drove any of their cattle to market. it was just about the time the drought was commencing and henderson was anxious to get beyond reach of it, out on the plains where water was abundant and grass plenty. if he could once reach that spot he was sure that he could make something nice out of his cattle; but the trouble was the drought spread all over that part of texas. he was mounted on an old dilapidated horse, carried his revolver strapped around his waist, and had but three or four dollars in his pocket—not enough to pay anybody for the trouble of robbing him. but after he had been on the journey for two weeks, during[228] which time he met one or two parties who would just as soon rob him as not, he came to the conclusion that he had undertaken his ride for nothing. there was an abundance of cattle for sale, but the difficulty was they would not bring any more in austin than he was willing to pay on the spot, and one day he turned around with the intention of going back, when he saw a horseman on a distant swell coming toward him. as he evidently wanted to communicate with him, henderson rode on to meet him.
“you won’t get any more than your trouble if you try to rob me,” said henderson. “i’ll wait and see what he wants. perhaps he knows of some cattle around here that i can buy.”
“how-dy, pilgrim,” said the horseman when he came up. “have you been travelling fur to-day?”
“i have been out ever since daylight this morning,” said henderson. “why do you ask?”
“’cause i didn’t know but you had seen some cattle bearing the mark of bar y. r. as[229] you came along. haven’t seen any, have you? there is probably a hundred head got away from me night before last, and i can’t find hide nor hair of them. they have gone off in search of grass and water. we haven’t got any here to speak of.”
“no, i haven’t seen any, and i may as well turn around and go back. this drought extends over the whole of the country.”
“bless you, yes! we got word the other day from a ranch twenty miles the other side of us that they are packing up and getting ready to go to trinity.”
“why, the farmers won’t allow that. they will shoot the last beef you have.”
“well, it will take a right smart deal of ammunition to do that,” said the horseman, with a grin. “’cause why? there will be about seventy-five thousand head, mebbe more, that will have to be shot; and when the farmers are doing that, what do you suppose we’ll be doing?”
“i suppose you will be shooting too. do you own these cattle?”
“no; they belong to a man named davenport[230] who lives over that way about twenty miles.”
“davenport!” exclaimed henderson, who was taken all aback.
“them’s the words i spoke, pilgrim,” said the horseman, looking at henderson in surprise. “maybe you know the man?”
“is he robert davenport?” enquired henderson, scarcely believing that he had heard aright.
“i believe that is what they call him sometimes.”
“and he’s got a little boy named bob?”
“well, he aint so very little now. he was little when he came here, but he’s growed to be right smart. maybe you know the man?”
“did he come here from st. louis?”
“look a-here, pilgrim; suppose you let me ask some questions. how do you happen to know so much about the man? he’s my employer, and a mighty good man he is.”
“i beg your pardon! but when i heard you speak his name i concluded that i knew him. i knew a man of that name once who was[231] almost dead of consumption. but of course it can’t be the same one.”
“well, now, between you and me,” said the cowboy, considerably mollified by this explanation, “he is as good as dead already. sometimes, when i get up in the morning, i look around to see if he is all right, and there he is sitting on the porch. he gets up before i do.”
“bob hasn’t got his tutor with him, has he?”
“his which?” asked the horseman.
“his private teacher,” explained henderson. “he used to have one sticking to his heels wherever he went.”
“no; he’s alone. you will ride on and see him? it is only a matter of twenty miles.”
“no; i can’t. i will come out and see him at some future time. my business just now——”
“now, pilgrim, you asked a good many questions regarding that man. i want to know if he has been doing something up in the states.”
[232]
“not a thing! not a solitary thing, i assure you.”
“’cause if he has, i won’t let no man set there on his horse and tell me that,” continued the horseman, growing sullen again. “he’s as fair and square a man as there is.”
“he hasn’t been doing anything wrong. you may mention my name when you get home, and see if he doesn’t back up my story.”
“what did you say your name was?”
“clifford henderson. i can easy tell him that, because if he has let so many years go without arresting me he’ll not begin now,” said he to himself. “this man doesn’t know where i live and i won’t tell him.”
“well, if you haven’t seen them cattle, i’ll go,” said the horseman, turning his nag about. “i’d feel a heap safer if you would go on with me—but i tell you, you would have to explain why you asked so many questions. so long!”
i may interrupt my story here long enough to say that when the horseman went home he reported his accidental meeting with henderson, together with the questions he asked, at[233] which mr. davenport was greatly alarmed, although he tried not to show it. that very night worked a change in bob’s fortunes which he did not like. up to this time he had been permitted to go as he pleased among the cattlemen, who all liked him and did their best to teach him, but now he was obliged to remain indoors, or at least within reach of his father’s voice. his father couldn’t bear to have him out of his sight. the very next day the will was drawn up; and although mr. davenport frequently promised himself that the first time he went to austin he would go through the process of adopting bob, so as to give him the whole of his money in case anything happened to him, he never got beyond the sound of his own dinner horn. it was a terrible thing for the invalid to reflect that he had brought bob up to believe that he was his own son, and somehow he could not straighten it out.
henderson was on nettles when he rode away from the horseman. he knew that his brother was somewhere in texas, and he hoped he was on a cattle ranch far out of[234] reach of him; but the way the horseman pronounced the name fairly took his breath away.
“of all the men that i ever expected to hear of, that davenport is the beat!” said henderson, throwing his reins upon his horse’s neck and shoving his hands into his pockets. “i don’t believe i have thought of him for six months, or if i did, i thought of him as dead, and here he has turned up when i least expected it. by george! all my desire to possess his wealth comes back to me; but how i am to get it i don’t know. that boy has plenty of rifles to back him up, as scanlan said he would.”
this was the one thing of which i spoke that effectually destroyed all henderson’s idea of making a better man of himself. it was easy enough to be good when temptation was not thrown in his way, but when temptation came, he was no better than anybody else. he rode along for two hours, thinking over bob’s habits, and wondering if it would be possible for him to steal the boy away, as he had been on the point of doing in st. louis, and not[235] until the sun began to set did he look around for a camping-place.
“i wish scanlan was here now,” said he. “i am sure he would be apt to think of something. there’s three men,” he added, shading his eyes with his hand and gazing toward a belt of post-oaks in which he intended to make his camp. “i wonder if they are good-natured, or if they mean to go through my pockets? time will tell.”
when he first discovered the three men in the timber two of them were lying down, and the other was moving about as if making preparations for supper. one saw his approach and called the attention of the others to it, and then all got up and looked at him. evidently the men were not inclined to trust strangers, for he saw that one of them, whom he took to be spokesman, raised up without anything in his hands, while the others stood with their rifles in the hollow of their arms. henderson thought this looked a little suspicious, but kept on and in a few minutes was close enough to the camp to accost the men.
[236]
“how do you do, strangers?” said he.
“how-dy, pilgrim,” said the spokesman.
“have you got room in your camp for another person?”
“oh, yes! there’s plenty of room round here.”
“i’ve got some things in my haversack that may assist you in making out your supper,” said henderson.
“well, alight and hitch,” said the spokesman. “there’s plenty of room for your horse here too.”
henderson dismounted and removed the saddle from his horse, the men with the rifles regarding him suspiciously. when he had thrown his saddle down by the fire, he coolly unhitched his revolver and flung it down beside it; whereupon the men with the rifles drew a long breath of relief, and deposited their weapons beside the trees where they had taken them from. henderson noticed this, and said, as he made his lariat fast to his horse’s neck:
“you seem to be on the lookout for something. i am a trader.”
[237]
“oh, you are, are you?” said the spokesman.
“yes. and i have only got a few dollars in my pocket, so that it would be useless for anybody to think of robbing me. i came out here for the purpose of getting some cattle, but i found that the drought was ahead of me. the stock isn’t worth what their hides and tallow would cost. now,” he added, having driven down his picket pin and seated himself near the fire, “i’d like to know why all you texans pronounce me a ‘pilgrim’ as soon as you see me. is there anything about me that reminds you of the states?”
“well, yes. the way you sit your horse is against you. a texan does not sit bent over, with his hands on the horn of his saddle, as if he feared that the next step would pitch him overboard. and then those gloves. a texan doesn’t wear them.”
“and i have been here almost eight years,” said henderson. “i guess i shall have to ride a little more in order to get accustomed to the customs of the country. what did you say your name was?”
[238]
“i didn’t say,” returned the spokesman.
“my name is henderson,” replied the guest, who wished most heartily that he had gone somewhere else. he didn’t like the way the spokesman answered his last question.
“my name is—— which one do you want?”
“why, the one you go by, of course.”
“well, the name that i go by just now is coyote bill,” said the man, pushing his spurred heels a little closer to the fire. “you have heard of me, i reckon?”
henderson was startled to hear this name. he had heard of him a good many times while in austin, and had never expected to meet him in this unceremonious manner. he knew that he was in the power of a desperado of the worst sort.
