Jack Wright and His Electric Stage, Noname [ebook reader with android os .TXT] 📗

"Would you know all the men if you saw them?"

"I believe so–at any rate, I would recognize the old members. He occasionally recruits new men. We have wiped out some of the newer element. I noticed that although some of the old bandits were wounded during our engagement with them, the ones who fell were mostly new men.

"That's the reason they fell perhaps. The older birds had experience enough to keep out of harm's way."

"Well, if any of them happen to go into that bank, you can rest assured that I'll recognize them."

"It's half-past two now, but they haven't materialized yet."

"Maybe Wood Hite was lying to save his life."

"No–I think not. His tones had a truthful ring."

Jack glanced across the street at the bank.

It was a a small brick building, with two iron-barred windows and a door flush with the street, through which he could see the entire interior.

There were half a dozen clerks busy inside behind a long desk, before which there was a wire netting that rose almost to the ceiling.

The first window nearest the door was that of the cashier, the next was that of the paying-teller, and the next the receiving-teller, after which followed the book-keepers and discount clerk.

All were busy at their various occupations, as it had been a rush day, in consequence of the large crowd.

Jack had seen every man, woman and child, who had gone in or come out since midday, and he had scanned every one who had passed by without detecting a bandit.

Yet his patience did not give out.

"Do you suppose our prisoner knows what method Jesse James will employ in his attempted raid?" he asked.

"No. He never tells his plans to the men, as a rule, until a very short time before they are carried out. Jesse James is very cautious and suspicious. He knows that the hand of every honest man is turned against him. He is even on the alert for danger. He is quick witted, deep, dark and cunning, and he wouldn't trust his own brother out of his sight. That probably accounts for the wonderful success he has always had at carrying out his daring plans, and escaping the consequence."

"The fellow is certainly a marvel in some ways."

"He inspires his men with fear of him. I have particularly noticed this of the Ford Boys. They seem to think that every time he looks at them he suspects them of treachery, and they seem to think that every time he draws a gun he is going to kill them. Most of the rest have the same feeling about Jesse. They all fear him, yet he has a strange marked influence over them. It seems to inspire the gang with a certain trust, respect, and blind obedience to his commands."

"Hello! what's that? See there?"

"What?" asked Timberlake in startled tones.

Jack pointed down the street.

A great cloud of dust was rising there.

People were scattering right and left, and as it drew nearer, Jack distinguished a huge coal black horse bestrode by a man who rode him furiously.

"What is it, Timberlake–a madman?"

"It looks like a horse running away."

"The man rides it as if he were part of the animal."

"Heavens, what speed! See–here he comes!"

Like wildfire the rider came thundering along.

In a few moments he was in plain sight.

"Some drunken countryman on the rampage!" muttered Jack.

"That fellow will kill somebody yet."

"When he goes by let us stroll over to the bank, and quietly warn the clerks of Jesse James' plot to put them on their guard. Then they will be ready for him."

"It's too late to do that now."

"Why so?"

"Because that rider is Jesse himself!"

Jack shot a keen glance at the man, and a startled cry escaped him, for the horse was certainly the famous Siroc and the rider the king of the bandits!

"What's his purpose, Timberlake?" gasped Jack.

"Perhaps he is pursued. See–he clutches two revolvers, and the wild villain is holding the bridle rein with his teeth.

"He's heading for the bank!"

"Come on!"

They rushed from their covert.

Jesse's quick eyes detected them instantly.

Raising a whistle to his lips, he blew a shrill blast.

It was his usual signal to the gang and they understood it, and mounted upon their horses, came galloping out of the by streets and other places where they had been concealed.

The whole armed crowd headed for the bank.

They thus cut off Jack and the sheriff.

To everybody's surprise, the moment Siroc arrived opposite the door of the bank, Jesse turned him and sent him galloping right into the building.

Pausing before the paying teller's window, Jesse thrust his two pistols through, causing the man to yell and recoil.

"Hand me every bundle of bills in that draw before you!" roared the bandit. "Quick, or I'll fire!"

"No–no–no!" gasped the startled man.

"I'll make you!"

And–bang! went his pistol.

The bullet grazed the clerk's head.

"I'm killed!" he screamed.

"No, you ain't, but you will be if you don't obey."

"For God's sake, don't fire again!"

"Will you give me that money?"

The cruel, wicked eyes were now turned upon the man in a manner that made him writhe.

He saw that his doom was sealed unless he complied without wasting any more time about it.

So out came the money.

There were stacks of it–hundreds of dollars.

The bandit kept the paying teller covered with one hand, and with the other transferred the money to his saddle bag.

"Now, go!" he shouted.

Then he began to blaze away.

All the clerks dodged under the desk to escape the flying bullets.

Having emptied one of his pistols, and intimidated them, the bandit king spoke to his steed.

Siroc turned and went thundering out to the street.

There an exciting scene was going on.

The gang, to cover Jesse's movements, had begun to fire their pistols right and left, and the people in the streets and houses and stores hastily made themselves scarce.

As soon as Jesse emerged, they closed in around him, dug spurs in their animals, and went clattering away.

Jack and Timberlake had been baffled.

They witnessed the daring robbery.

Seeing that it was impossible to get through the lines of the bandits to stop it, Jack signaled his friends.

No response came back.

Fearing trouble for the Terror they rushed away.

She was where they had left her, but Tim and Fritz had alighted, gone away and were only just then returning.

"What's up?" panted Jack.

"Wood Hite escaped! We've been chasin' him!" Tim replied.

"Too bad! But never mind—"

"Vot's all dot shootin'?"

"The James Boys–they've beaten us!"

"Whar is they?"

"Running away! Get aboard–arm yourselves!"

"Goin' arter 'em, lad?"

"Yes; don't lose a minute!"

All hands hastily got aboard the stage.

Jack mounted the seat and sent her rushing out.

As soon as she reached the street Jack sent her flying in pursuit of the fugitives.

The bandits soon saw her chasing them.