Joe's Luck; Or, Always Wide Awake, Jr. Horatio Alger [mobi reader TXT] 📗

but you've gone too fur.' He laffed, and we went into the field together to mow. He was just startin' on his swath when I cum behind him and cut his head clean off with my scythe."

Joe had difficulty in suppressing his laughter, but Mr. Bickford looked perfectly serious.

"Why, that was butchery!" exclaimed the Pike man, startled. "Cut off his head with a scythe?"

"I hated to, bein' as he was my cousin," said Joshua, "but I couldn't have him cum any of them tricks on me. I don't see as it's any wuss than shootin' a man."

"What did you do with his body?" asked Joe, commanding his voice.

"Bein' as 'twas warm weather, I thought I'd better bury him at once."

"Were you arrested?"

"Yes, and tried for murder, but my lawyer proved that I was crazy when I did it, and so I got off."

"Do such things often happen at the North?" asked the Pike County man.

"Not so often as out here and down South, I guess," said Joshua. "It's harder to get off. Sometimes a man gets hanged up North for handlin' his gun too careless."

"Did you ever kill anybody else?" asked the Pike man, eying Joshua rather uneasily.

"No," said Mr. Bickford. "I shot one man in the leg and another in the arm, but that warn't anything serious."

It was hard to disbelieve Joshua, he spoke with such apparent frankness and sincerity. The man from Pike County was evidently puzzled, and told no more stories of his own prowess. Conversation, died away, and presently all three were asleep.

CHAPTER XXVIII THE EVENTS OF A NIGHT

The Pike County man was the first to fall asleep. Joe and Mr. Bickford lay about a rod distant from him. When their new comrade's regular breathing, assured Joe that he was asleep, he said:

"Mr. Bickford, what do you think of this man who has joined us?"

"I think he's the biggest liar I ever set eyes on," said Joshua bluntly.

"Then you don't believe his stories?"

"No—do you?"

"I believe them as much as that yarn of yours about your Cousin
Bill," returned Joe, laughing.

"I wanted to give him as good as he sent. I didn't want him to do all the lyin'."

"And you a deacon's son!" exclaimed Joe, in comic expostulation.

"I don't know what the old man would have said if he'd heard me, or
Cousin Bill, either."

"Then one part is true—you have a Cousin Bill?"

"That isn't the only part that's true; he did help me and dad hayin'."

"But his head is still safe on his shoulders?"

"I hope so."

"I don't think we can find as much truth in the story of our friend over yonder."

"Nor I. If there was a prize offered for tall lyin' I guess he'd stand a good chance to get it."

"Do you know, Joshua, fire-eater as he is, I suspect that he is a coward."

"You do?"

"Yes, and I have a mind to put him to the test."

"How will you do it?"

"One day an old hunter came into my restaurant, and kept coming for a week. He was once taken prisoner by the Indians, and remained in their hands for three months. He taught me the Indian war-whoop, and out of curiosity I practised it till I can do it pretty well."

"What's your plan?"

"To have you fire off your gun so as to wake him up. Then I will give a loud war-whoop and see how it affects the gentleman from Pike County."

"He may shoot us before he finds out the deception."

"It will be well first to remove his revolver to make all safe. I wish you could give the war-whoop, too. It would make a louder noise."

"How do you do it?"

Joe explained.

"I guess I can do it. You start it, and I'll j'in in, just as I used to do in singin' at meetin'. I never could steer through a tune straight by myself, but when the choir got to goin', I helped 'em all I could."

"I guess you can do it. Now let us make ready."

The Pike County man's revolver was removed while he was unconsciously sleeping. Then Joshua and our hero ensconced themselves behind trees, and the Yankee fired his gun.

The Pike man started up, still half asleep and wholly bewildered, when within a rod of him he heard the dreadful war-whoop. Then another more discordant voice took up the fearful cry. Joshua did very well considering that it was his first attempt.

Then the man from Pike County sprang to his feet. If it had been daylight, his face would have been seen to wear a pale and scared expression. It did not appear to occur to him to make a stand against the savage foes who he felt convinced were near at hand. He stood not on the order of going, but went at once. He quickly unloosed his beast, sprang upon his back, and galloped away without apparently giving a thought to the companions with whom he had camped out.

When he was out of hearing Joe and Bickford shouted with laughter.

"You see I was right," said Joe. "The man's a coward."

"He seemed in a hurry to get away," said Joshua dryly. "He's the biggest humbug out."

"I thought so as soon as he began to brag so much."

"I believed his yarns at first," admitted Joshua. "I thought he was rather a dangerous fellow to travel with."

"He looked like a desperado, certainly," said Joe, "but appearances are deceitful. It's all swagger and no real courage."

"Well, what shall we do now, Joe?"

"Lie down again and go to sleep."

"The man's gone off without his revolver."

"He'll be back for it within a day or two. We shall be sure to fall in with him again. I shan't lose my sleep worrying about him."

The two threw themselves once more on the ground, and were soon fast asleep.

* * * * *

Joe proved to be correct in his prediction concerning the reappearance of their terrified companion.

The next morning, when they were sitting at breakfast—that is, sitting under a tree with their repast spread out on a paper between them—the man from Pike County rode up. He looked haggard, as well he might, not having ventured to sleep for fear of the Indians, and his horse seemed weary and dragged out.

"Where have you been?" asked Mr. Bickford innocently.

"Chasin' the Indians," said the Rip-tail Roarer, swinging himself from his saddle.

"Sho! Be there any Indians about here?"

"Didn't you hear them last night?" inquired the man from Pike.

"No."

"Nor you?" turning to Joe.

"I heard nothing of any Indians," replied Joe truthfully.

"Then all I can say is, strangers, that you sleep uncommon sound."

"Nothing wakes me up," said Bickford. "What about them Indians? Did you railly see any?"

"I rather think I did," said the man from Pike. "It couldn't have been much after midnight when I was aroused by their war-whoop. Starting up, I saw twenty of the red devils riding through the canon."

"Were you afraid?"

"Afraid!" exclaimed the man from Pike contemptuously. "The Rip-tail
Roarer knows not fear. I can whip my weight in wildcats———"

"Yes, I know you can," interrupted Joshua. "You told us so yesterday."

The man from Pike seemed rather annoyed at the interruption, but as Mr. Bickford appeared to credit his statement he had no excuse for quarreling.

He proceeded.

"Instantly I sprung to the back of my steed and gave them chase."

"Did they see you?"

"They did."

"Why didn't they turn upon you? You said there were twenty of them."

"Why?" repeated the Pike man boastfully. "They were afraid. They recognized me as the Rip-tail Roarer. They knew that I had sent more than fifty Indians to the happy hunting-grounds, and alone as I was they fled."

"Sho!"

"Did you kill any of them?" asked Joe.

"When I was some distance on my way I found I had left my revolver behind. Did you find it, stranger?"

"There it is," said Joshua, who had replaced it on the ground close to where the Pike man had slept.

He took it with satisfaction and replaced it in his girdle.

"Then you didn't kill any?"

"No, but I drove them away. They won't trouble you any more."

"That's a comfort," said Joshua.

"Now, strangers, if you've got any breakfast to spare, I think I could eat some."

"Set up, old man," said Mr. Bickford, with his mouth full.

The man from Pike did full justice to the meal. Then he asked his two companions, as a favor, not to start for two hours, during which he lay down and rested.

The three kept together that day, but did not accomplish as much distance as usual, chiefly because of the condition of their companion's horse.

At night they camped out again. In the morning an unpleasant surprise awaited them. Their companion had disappeared, taking with him Joshua's horse and leaving instead his own sorry nag. That was not all. He had carried off their bag of provisions, and morning found them destitute of food, with a hearty appetite and many miles away, as they judged, from any settlement.

"The mean skunk!" said Joshua. "He's cleaned us out. What shall we do?"

"I don't know," said Joe seriously.

CHAPTER XXIX JOHN CHINAMAN

The two friends felt themselves to be in a serious strait. The exchange of horses was annoying, but it would only lengthen their journey a little. The loss of their whole stock of provisions could not so readily be made up.

"I feel holler," said Joshua. "I never could do much before breakfast. I wish I'd eat more supper. I would have done it, only I was afraid, by the way that skunk pitched into 'em, we wouldn't have enough to last."

"You only saved them for him, it seems," said Joe. "He has certainly made a poor return for our kindness."

"If I could only wring his neck, I wouldn't feel quite so hungry," said Joshua.

"Or cut his head off with a scythe," suggested Joe, smiling faintly.

"Danged if I wouldn't do it," said Mr. Bickford, hunger making him bloodthirsty.

"We may overtake him, Mr. Bickford."

"You may, Joe, but I can't. He's left me his horse, which is clean tuckered out, and never was any great shakes to begin with. I don't believe I can get ten miles out of him from now till sunset."

"We must keep together, no matter how slow we go. It won't do for us to be parted."

"We shall starve together likely enough," said Joshua mournfully.

"I've heard that the French eat horse-flesh. If it comes to the worst, we can kill your horse and try a horse-steak."

"It's all he's fit for, and he ain't fit for that. We'll move on for
a couple of hours and see if somethin' won't turn up. I tell you,
Joe, I'd give all the money I've got for some of marm's johnny-cakes.
It makes me feel hungrier whenever I think of 'em."

"I sympathize with you, Joshua," said Joe. "We may as well be movin' on, as you suggest. We may come to some cabin, or party of travelers."

So they mounted their beasts and started. Joe went ahead, for his animal was much better than the sorry nag which Mr. Bickford bestrode. The latter walked along with an air of dejection, as if life were a burden to him.

"If I had this critter at home, Joe, I'll tell you what I'd do with him," said Mr. Bickford, after a pause.

"Well, what would you do with him?"

"I'd sell him to a sexton. He'd be a first-class animal to go to funerals. No danger of his runnin' away with the hearse."

"You are not