CHAPTER XXIV
A RACE FOR LIFE
Believing the men who tried to stop Bob must have been robbed, several of those about the store leaped onto their horses and gave chase.
Meantime, the conspirators, balked in their attempt to prevent the boy's escape, held a consultation.
"If that is one of Ford's men, our goose is cooked," snarled one of them.
"Well, it is, right enough. Don't you remember hearing about the kid Ford gave his dog to?"
Too well did they remember, for the story of Bob's call at the ranch had traveled far and wide.
"What's to be done, then?" asked the first speaker.
"Get him!" growled the others.
So well did these men understand one another that no explanation of this remark was necessary, and without more ado they hastened to the stable back of the saloon, ordered their horses, and were soon riding after Bob at top speed.
Anticipating that he would be chased, the boy had urged Firefly into a mad gallop, desirous of getting as long a start as possible. And well it was that he did, for so mettlesome were the horses of the conspirators that, despite the start the loungers had, they quickly overhauled them.
"Which way did he go?" demanded the ringleader, as he rode alongside.
"To Ford's."
"What's wrong? What did he do? How much did he get?" demanded others of the volunteer posse.
But the conspirators were not eager to go into detail, and their leader said:
"This is a private matter. We are obliged to you gentlemen for trying to stop that boy. But we won't trouble you to ride farther. We are quite able to attend to this business ourselves."
Such an abrupt dismissal, however, only piqued the curiosity of the volunteers the more, and noting this the conspirators clapped spurs to their ponies and soon left them behind.
From time to time, as he raced across the plains, Bob had looked back. With satisfaction, he noted that he more than held his own with the pursuers. But when he saw the four men pass the leaders as though the others were standing still, he urged Firefly to greater speed.
Gamely the pony responded, increasing Bob's lead still more, and the boy noted from landmarks that he was only about two miles from his station. Then suddenly Firefly stumbled, hurling Bob over his head.
Picking himself up, the boy, stopping only to ascertain that he himself was not injured, ran back to his pony. But as he saw the horse his heart sank.
Firefly had stepped in a prairie-dog hole and broken his leg.
From his moaning Bob realized the pony was in great pain, and for a moment he stood undecided what to do. Then a hoarse shout of triumph raised by the conspirators reached his ears, and, gritting his teeth, Bob pulled out his revolver, placed it against Firefly's head and pulled the trigger.
Already he had lost precious minutes and, waiting only to make sure he had put his faithful pony out of misery, he once more started toward his station, leaping and bounding through the high grass as best he could.
Not far had he gone, however, before he realized that unless he could make greater speed, his pursuers would soon overtake him.
But the prospect did not daunt him and, as his danger became greater, his brain became clearer.
Apparently without effort, Chester was bounding over the plains. Noting this, an idea flashed into Bob's mind and he called the dog to him.
As he approached, Bob took a firm grip with his right hand in the mass of hair on Chester's shoulders, exclaiming:
"You've got to help me run, boy. Now don't go too fast. Remember, I can't leap the way you do."
And, as though understanding, the dog moderated his gait and together they tore through the grass.
Yet so uneven was the race that Bob would certainly have been captured had not aid come from an unexpected quarter.
So still was the air that the report of Bob's shot had carried to the ears of John Ford who, sensing trouble, was riding slowly toward Red Top to meet the lad.
Shooting not being common on the plains thereabouts, no sooner had he heard the report than he clapped spurs to his horse and dashed in its direction, and not far had he ridden before he caught sight of Bob and Chester and their pursuers.
At a glance, he realized that the boy was in great danger, and grinding his teeth savagely, he rode at him like mad, from time to time shouting to Bob to keep up courage.
But the plucky boy saw and recognized his employer long before he heard his reassuring words, and the sight lent him fresh strength.
The pursuers also saw Ford and redoubled their efforts to reach Bob first. But the terrific pace was telling on their mounts and they made little progress.
With a yell of exultation, Ford reached Bob, gave him a hand and lifted him up behind to the saddle, asking:
"What are they after you for?"
"Because I wanted to warn you!" answered Bob, and hurriedly he related all he had overheard and the incidents of the pursuit.
As he listened to the story, the ranchman's face grew terrible to behold. And as it was finished, he sat in silence a moment, then fairly hissed:
"My law is not 'an eye for an eye' or 'a tooth for a tooth.' But four eyes for an eye!"
For an instant only was Bob mystified by this speech.
Swinging his rifle from his back to his shoulder with incredible rapidity, Ford fired four shots in quick succession. And after each shot, one of the conspirator's horses fell.
"So much for Firefly, though I wouldn't take the four for him!" snarled the ranchman. "Now for the men! Oh, no! I'm not going to shoot them," he added, noting the look of horror on Bob's face. "I intend to capture them and hand them over to the law. You're lighter than I am, so you take my pony and ride for the boys. I'll stay here and keep track of those scoundrels. They won't be able to walk far."
Even as he spoke, Ford slipped from the saddle, and Bob taking his place dashed away for the other cowboys.
By good fortune, he found them at the end of their range nearest the scene of trouble, and no urging did they need to ride to their employer's assistance when they had heard Bob's story.
Divining the purpose of the boy's departure, the conspirators had separated and then sought to hide themselves in the long grass. But the ranchman had kept watch of their general direction, and as his boys rode up, ordered them to advance abreast toward the spot where the scoundrels had disappeared.
As they approached, Ford shouted:
"If you men will surrender, we won't hurt you! But if you fire so much as one shot, we'll kindle the prairie and roast you!"
For a moment after this terrible alternative was pronounced there was silence and the conspirators made no move. Then one by one they stood up, glowering with awful hatred at Bob.
"Hands up!" commanded Ford. "That's the way! Now, boys, take their guns and knives, then bind their hands behind their backs and each carry one behind you. We're going to take them to Red Top jail."
While his cowboys were obeying his instructions with no gentle hands, Ford mounted his horse, keeping Bob behind him.
After the troop was under way, the ranchman asked:
"What made you take such a chance for me, boy?"
"Because you were a friend of my father!" replied Bob simply.
"What?" exclaimed Ford, turning so suddenly that he almost unseated the boy.
"My name isn't Bob Nichols, Mr. Ford. It's Bob Chester!"
"Then I wasn't wrong! I wasn't wrong!" murmured the ranchman. And the next moment he was hugging Bob to his breast, sobbing over him and caressing him.
The sight of their stern, unemotional employer weeping like a woman over Bob astounded the cowboys, and eagerly they closed around him, though they were too impressed by the scene to speak.
But as soon as he recovered his composure, Ford exclaimed:
"Boys, Bob is the son of the best friend I ever had—Horace Chester. I was struck by the resemblance when I first laid eyes on him. When he told me his name, I thought I must be mistaken. But Chester knew better. That's why the dog took to him. He recognized the blood.
"And now you all ride on. Bob and I want to talk."
Reluctantly the cowboys obeyed and when they were out of hearing, Bob spoke, giving a detailed account of the reasons why he had come to Fairfax, the experiences through which he had passed while on the way, his discoveries about his father's property, and finally showed the ranchman the precious letter.
"And Leon Dardus kept you at drudgery, denying you your money, even trying to make you believe your father was insane!" remarked Ford, as the narration ended. "I knew he was a villain. That will is a forgery, Bob. We'll get back the property for you, never fear. Dardus may have money. But your friends Perkins and Nichols have more. I made a vow when Dardus beat me on the will that when I had one hundred thousand dollars I'd track him down and solve this mystery. But now it won't be necessary to wait.
"Right will conquer, every time, Bob!"