Ben's Nugget, Jr. Alger Horatio [top 10 non fiction books of all time TXT] 📗

you here?"

"No, he led us round in a circle. When we found it out we settled his hash pretty quick—"

"Like cowards, as you were."

"Are we going to stand this, Tom?" asked Bill, fiercely.

Tom Hadley shrugged his shoulder. He did not enjoy what Bill Mosely called "back talk" as well as his partner, and it struck him as so much waste of time. He wanted to come to business, and said briefly, "Where's the gold?"

"Yes, Dewey, let us know what you have done with your gold."

"So you are thieves, you two?"

"I should say so," interjected Tom Hadley.

"You're a fool," ejaculated Bill Mosely, frowning. "What makes you give yourself away?"

"Because," said Hadley, bluntly, "we are thieves, or we wouldn't be after this man's gold."

"That ain't the way to put it," said Bill Mosely, who shrank from accepting the title to which his actions entitled him. "We're bankers from 'Frisco, and we are going to take care of Dewey's gold, as he ain't in a situation to take care of it himself."

"You are very kind," said Dewey, who, embarrassing as his position was, rather enjoyed the humor of the situation. "So you are a banker, and your friend a thief? I believe I have more respect for the thief, who openly avows his objects.—Tom, if that is your name, I am sorry that you are not in a better business. That man is wholly bad, but I believe you could lead an honest life."

Tom Hadley said nothing, but he looked thoughtful. His life had been a lawless one, but he was not the thorough-going scoundrel that Bill Mosely was, and would have been glad if circumstances had favored a more creditable mode of life.

"We're wastin' time, Dewey," said Bill Mosely. "Where's the gold-dust?"

"Sure you know I have it? I leave you to find it for yourself," answered the sick man, who was never lacking for courage, and did not tremble, though wholly in the power of these men.

"What shall we do, Tom?" asked Mosely.

"Hunt for the gold," suggested Tom Hadley.

If Mosely had judged it of any use to threaten Dewey, he would have done so, hoping to force him to reveal the hiding-place of the gold; but the undaunted spirit thus far displayed by his victim convinced him that the attempt would be unsuccessful. He therefore proceeded, with the help of his companion, to search the hut. The floor was of earth, and he occupied himself in digging down into it, considering that the most likely place of concealment for the treasure.

Richard Dewey watched the work going on in silence.

"If only Ben and Bradley would come back," he said to himself, "I should soon be free of these rascals. They won't find the gold where they are looking, but I needn't tell them that."

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,