Читать книгу Under Foch's Command: A Tale of the Americans in France - F. S. Brereton - Страница 4

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Imagine the commotion that ensued in the mining city which lay at the foot of that giant mountain which the industry of man is slowly eating away. That shot which had rung out in the saloon near which Jim Carpenter and Dan Holman, his bosom chum, happened to be standing—listening to the harangue of that bearded and excitable person who had announced the declaration of war to them—though it was muffled by the windows of the saloon itself and by the half-door which closed the entrance, yet attracted the ears of quite a number. Nevertheless the figure which presently emerged and went off down the street escaped attention. Then an avalanche poured into the street.

"Where's he gone? Which way did he turn? Where's that German?"

"German?" asked Jim. "What's happened? We heard a shot, and guessed there must be a shindy in the saloon. Still, there have been others, so we didn't take much notice. As to seeing anyone coming out, that we did not, for we weren't quite sure where the sound came from, and were looking the other way. Who's the man? What's happened?"

"What's happened!" exclaimed a heated individual, a tall, lithe, broad-shouldered and clean-shaven American, tapping Jim in friendly fashion on the shoulder. "Let me tell you, sir, the cruellest and most bloodthirsty murder that the Kaiser has ever committed!"

Dan stood back a pace and stared at the man in amazement. "The Kaiser," he exclaimed, "here? Surely——"

Another face was thrust forward into the circle now standing about Jim and Dan. "He didn't mean the Kaiser himself," this lusty miner cried. "George, here, is talking of what the Kaiser's brought about through one more of his rascally agents. Listen here: a man was standing up against the bar counter five minutes ago; a chap that's not long been in these parts, but I happen to know something about him, and that something is that he's a German. Well now, what d'you think happened? Charlie, the most jovial fellow that ever served a glass to any of us, states the case squarely and aloud, just as he's been used to: says as he's glad it's war, says as he thought it was high time we Americans were in it, and just downs the Kaiser with a bang of his fist."

"And then this here scoundrel of a German chap shoots him point-blank! Where's he got to?" shouted another.

It was less than five minutes later that the Sheriff, hastily summoned by telephone, came cantering up the street, and after him his posse, collected from all parts from men who had already been selected to act as special police in case of trouble arising, well acquainted with their duty, and hurrying from their work, from their houses, from wherever they might have been, all mounted on horseback, and making for the centre of the mining city.

Let us say that though the old mining cities and villages of America now wear a totally different aspect, and lead a supremely different life from that common in the '40's, yet "hold-ups" still occur in places; ruffians even now are come across, and every now and again there is a broil, and some tragedy or crime is perpetrated. Here then was one, and already the Sheriff and his men were seeking for the culprit.

"He came right round along the street down here," a man bellowed, running up a few moments later; "a dark man, with his coat collar turned up and hat pulled over his eyes?"

"That's the one," they shouted.

"And hops into one of the trucks making up the mountain; it'll be well up the slope now. He's setting his tracks for the workings."

At once there was an exodus; the crowd broke up, the Sheriff and his men galloping off to ascend the mountain by a winding track, whilst Jim and Dan and twenty more dived for their own homes, then, armed with the best weapons they possessed, turned out again, and, clambering aboard a train of empty trucks going upwards, made for one of the tunnels which had been cut into the heart of the mountain.

"We've telephoned round to the other side to tell 'em to close the exit, and I've told off parties of men to watch every one of the openings on this side," the Sheriff told them as they alighted opposite one of the huge galleries which gave access to the mountain. "Next thing is to have a confab. We've got to get that fellow out, but we'd best remember it's dark in there, there are cuttings this way and that, and galleries running everywhere, so lights are wanted, and, after that, guides."

Jim stepped forward and Dan with him. "How'll we do?" they asked.

"You?"

"Yep!" declared Jim, with the curt assurance of a young American. "Dan and I have worked here since we were boys, and know every tunnel and every cutting. As to lights, Mr. Sheriff, I don't know. You see——"

"How's that?" demanded the Sheriff. "No lights! Waal, that gets me!"

"You see," explained Dan, coming to the assistance of Jim, for he had seen his reasons instantly, "the man who enters the workings carrying a lamp will draw fire, if that fellow means to do more shooting."

For a moment or so there was silence, the Sheriff pushing his hat back from his head and rubbing his forehead, while the men about him looked at one another and nodded.

"Mebbe all right! Say, now, I don't want to dictate to no one," declared the Sheriff, "but, draw fire or not, we've got to get a lamp to find this fellow; we've got to take our risks so as to arrest him. Waal, taking risks is in our line; we expected that when we were elected. I'll chance it."

Jim and Dan instantly agreed to do likewise.

"There's a motor-car over here," said the former at once, beginning to walk towards it. "We can remove the lamps and use those. I don't say, Mr. Sheriff, that you're not right. This is a job which means risk, and, as you say, it's your duty to get into danger. Our job is to help you, like every honest citizen will want to do. Come on, Dan, and let us see what we can make of the lamps, for the sooner we follow that beggar the better."

It chanced that the motor-car standing not far off was equipped with acetylene head-lights, being dissimilar in that respect to the majority of modern automobiles in America, and promptly they removed these lamps and brought them back to the party. Presently they had them alight, and, taking one and sending the second along to the next party, who were watching the nearest opening, they plunged boldly into the gallery which led to the inner workings, one man carrying the lamp and the rest grouped about him, the Sheriff and half a dozen of them bearing revolvers, while not a few carried guns which they had hurriedly snatched from their lodgings.

Pushing on with great caution, and flashing the lamp hither and thither, so as to expose the openings to works which led off from this main gallery, the party had presently proceeded some three hundred yards, and had as yet discovered no trace of the fugitive. Then one of them gave vent to a cry, and, bending down, picked up an object.

"The hat he was wearing, I could swear," he said, lifting it. "Let's put it in front of the light. See, Mr. Sheriff, I was in the saloon there with Bill Harkness, a-talkin' about this here declaration of war that the President's made, with one eye on Harkness, as you might say, and one on the chap leanin' up against the counter. This is his hat—I'd put me boots on it."

He raised the hat till the full stream of light from the lamp fell upon it, so that all could examine it. As he lowered it again, and the beams swept on into the depths of the tunnel, there suddenly came a deafening report; the lamp went out as if drowned in water, while the man carrying it fell to the ground with a crash.

"Pick him up," said the Sheriff. "Jim Carpenter, you were right. Did any of you folks catch a sight of the varmint?"

Not one answered. As a matter of fact, the man who had fired the shot had been secreted round a corner, and, at the moment he stretched forth one arm with his weapon, the party in search of him were examining the hat which he had dropped, and which was sure evidence of the fact that he had taken refuge in these workings. A second later he had dived back round the corner, and now the whole place was in darkness.

"We had best get out," said the Sheriff in low tones. "I ain't the one to be driven off by a murderer. But Jim's right, and every time we come in bearing a lamp that fellow's open to get us. He's a shot, too, for else he wouldn't 'a got his bullet in so straight. Let's get back and 'tend to our mate."

Feeling their way along the walls, they staggered back to the exit, and were presently once more in the open, where, to the relief of all, they discovered that the man they carried had been merely stunned. For he had held the lamp at arm's length and just level with his head, and the bullet which had struck it had flung it back violently against his head and so stunned him.

"And what next?" the Sheriff asked as the party gathered in a group and looked at one another enquiringly. "Young Jim Carpenter, you've been these many years in and around the works, what 'ud you do? Mebbe you can find your way round blindfold."

Jim thought the matter over for a while. It was true that he could find his way anywhere in those works blindfold, or without a lamp, and indeed would have been a dunce could he not have done so, seeing that he habitually went to his work along the galleries without a light, every inch being familiar to him. Yet to find one's road in the workings within the mountain and to search for a murderer therein were two entirely different propositions. The one required no nerve, hardly any effort; the other called for something more, and promised at the least excitement and adventure.

"Guess, Mr. Sheriff," he said at last, "it's the duty of every one of us to lend a hand."

"I can't compel," came the answer. "Me and my posse were elected to look after the rights of people in this here city and surroundings, to arrest thieves and vagabonds, and to maintain order. If we are hard pressed we are entitled to call upon those nearest, but they ain't compelled to join; they are free citizens. Folks in this country are free, young Jim Carpenter."

He eyed the young fellow critically, peering at him closely from the top of his peaked hat to the soles of his sturdy mining boots, noticing the breadth of his shoulders, the depth of his chest, his firm face with the pair of glittering, frank eyes looking out from it, the strong hands and arms, bared almost to the shoulder, and the general air of strength and resolution about this young miner.

"Should say as he and Dan are just the last to refuse a request that might plunge 'em into danger," he was thinking. "They're quiet, hard-working folks, as we all know, and orphans this many a year, having earned their own grub and a good deal more, and have been independent of others. Waal?" he asked bluntly.

"I've been thinking, that's all," said Jim. "It don't do to go in for a thing like this without some sort of consideration. Any way you look at it it's not an easy job; for I take it this German chap is bottled up in the mountain and has to be hunted out of any corner or hollow in which he's taken shelter. You might board up the entrances and starve him out, only the chances are there's food enough in the workings to keep him alive for quite a while; for the miners often take in a store so as to free them from the job of carrying food up every day. As to water, there's pools of it; so, as you might say, a siege like this could last for days on end, and the murderer fail to be captured. So the best and quickest way is to go in and pull him out; and bearing a lamp, as we have just now tried, ain't successful."

"Just as you warned us, I'll own," the Sheriff admitted. "Now then?"

"I'd take in a small party only," Jim said, "every one of 'em armed and good shots, and one of 'em carrying an electric torch. I'd let 'em wear rubber boots, and would warn 'em not even to whisper. They could arrange signals before they went in: a tug at the coat to warn each other that one of 'em had heard a suspicious sound. I'd let 'em creep forward till near their man, and then the one with the lamp could flash it on, while the others covered the fellow with their revolvers."

"Gee," shouted the Sheriff, "that's some talking!—some sense! Let's think it over. But what about a guide? Who'd lead 'em? Who's the chap who's a-goin' to take hold o' the torch? It means shootin', mind. That there skunk what's got inside could shoot the eye out of a horse, I reckon, so that those who go in after him will have to look mighty lively—so who's a-goin'?"

"That's settled," Jim said abruptly. "That is, of course, if you think I'll do."

"And I'll go along with him," Dan immediately chimed in. "Only we shall want someone who can shoot well: Jim and me's used a gun (revolver) at times, but we ain't no experts; but Larry, here, he's the man. If the chap who shot Charlie over the bar, and put our light out a while ago, could hit the eye out of a horse, Larry'ud shoot one out of a fly, I guess."

"Huh!" grunted the Sheriff, and cast a sharp glance at the individual in whose direction Dan had jerked a thumb. There he saw quite a diminutive person, yet looking rather terrific in his mining costume. For what with his high brown boots with their thick soles and the lacings which ran almost from the toe right up to the knee, his rough trousers cut too big for him, and a somewhat broad hat tilted right on the back of his head, to say nothing of fierce moustaches, Larry looked a terrible fellow.

Yet those who knew him knew him as a smiling, happy-go-lucky individual, a miner whose chief characteristic was a penchant for spending money. Dollars fled through the unfortunate Larry's pockets as if the latter were full of holes. He was always in an impecunious position; and yet Larry had pride, for not once did he beg of his comrades. For the rest, it was on quiet half-holidays that he and a few others would betake themselves to some retreat down at the foot of the mountain, and there practise with their revolvers.

"You ain't got no cause to take on," Larry had told Jim many a time when the latter had missed a can tossed in the air, for that was his particular test applied to all who desired to become marksmen. "See here, young fellow, I tosses the can into the air, and you has your back turned to it. I says 'Go!' and round you swings, up yer arm goes, and then the gun speaks. It ain't done by aimin', it comes natural. You can't hit a can, same as that, tossed in the air, unless you've spent dollars in ammunition same as I've done. There ain't no particular difficulty in it, it's just persistence and practice—just stickin' to it. So there, and that's all there is to it."

It might be easy enough for the diminutive Larry, but it caused him no end of amusement to see the obstinate way in which Jim and others tackled the proposition, and to watch their many failures; although, to do this jovial fellow but justice, it caused him to shout with delight when finally they were able to hit the flying object. Yet, with all their practice, not one came up to the redoubtable Larry.

"Yep, Sheriff," he grinned, as the latter pointed a finger at him, "I'll own up to it. It ain't that I'm of a quarrelsome sort of a disposition."

At that they all grinned.

"What's that?" demanded Larry, firing up, not understanding their humour. "Me quarrelsome! Why, I've been here about the mines this six years past and there ain't one with whom I've had a ruction."

That again was substantial truth; yet we must amplify it a little by the statement that the population working round this huge copper-mine was constantly fluctuating, and only a small proportion of the men remained there for many months together. Yet in such a community men soon gather knowledge of one another, and, though there were brawls now and again, though men came to the mine who were of a distinctly cantankerous and quarrelsome disposition, it was significant that, learning early of Larry's prowess with a gun, it was not with this diminutive little miner that they picked their quarrels.

Larry grinned widely, for now he saw that his friends were merely bantering.

"I kin git you," he laughed. "Waal, Mr. Sheriff, let's move on. I've a gun here handy," and he tapped the holster in which his revolver was resting.

"But there's the torch to be got first of all," Jim reminded them, "and then there are rubber boots or shoes. They are of as much importance almost as our friend Larry. What's the odds, Mr. Sheriff, if we set our guards at the exits from the mountain, and send down below to get all we want? I ain't the one to delay, but we are more likely to succeed if we make our preparations carefully."

There came a commotion away on their left as he was speaking: a weapon snapped sharply, there was a rush of men towards the entrance, which, like the one in front of which Jim and his friends were standing, was being watched and guarded, and then one of the Sheriff's posse approached.

"The varmint tried to make out, Mr. Sheriff," he reported. "We was there a-talkin' away and watchin' the entrance, when a man comes slinkin' along out o' the darkness, peers out at us, and lifts his revolver. It was Jacques what took a pot shot at him, and I see'd the bullet splash on the rock by his head, and our chap turned and went off like greased lightning."

The Sheriff at once went to the telephone hut near at hand and called up the parties at the other exits and warned them to be on their guard.

"You'd best get some sort of cover," he told them, "so that if the fellow tries to break out he won't have a clear shot at you. Me and my mates here are going in to search for him, and just before we move off I'll send another 'phone message to you. Keep a bright look-out."

It was perhaps half an hour later that the messenger, whom they had dispatched to the bottom of the mountain by means of one of the mine locomotives, came back on the foot-board of that same wagon bearing sundry pairs of rubber-soled shoes with him and a couple of electric torches, also he carried a basket of food and a couple of water-bottles.

"Seems to me, boss," he said, addressing the Sheriff, "that you folks might be some while in the mountain; it ain't altogether a small place, now, is it? And ef you get on the tracks of this here chap what's murdered Charlie, you won't be askin' to come back just to get a bite of food or a drink of water. You'll want to trace him and perhaps drive him out to one of the watching-parties. Ef that's so, it occurred to me that some meat and bread and a couple of cans of cold tea would meet your ticket, and here they are. Now I'm a-goin' to put on one o' these pairs of shoes, for I'm one o' the party."

It took quite an amount of argument to settle who were to go and who were to stay behind to watch the entrance into which Jim and his friends were to penetrate. Naturally enough the Sheriff must be one of the little adventurous band, and Larry was an indispensable. Jim, too, must go, for he was to guide them; and Dan would be there to assist him if need be, or to replace him in case he became a casualty. But the remainder clamoured to accompany them; and it took not a little persuasion and tactful chatter on the part of the Sheriff to pick his men and to decide who should be of the party.

"It stands to reason, boys," he said, "that we are all doing our duty whether we go in or stay out here. You've seen for yourselves that this here chap we're after won't stand at anything: if he comes into the open he's as likely to shoot at you as he will at us who are goin' in after him, only, of course, I admit it's slower work stayin' out here. Guess you've put me up as Sheriff so as I should be able to talk when times like these come round."

"You bet!" they admitted, nodding their heads.

"Then I'm goin' to give orders right off. Larry and Jim and Dan and me, and Jacques there, and Tom Curtis will make the investigating-party; t'others waits here and takes cover under boulders. Our friend Tim, what's been round the mines these many years, will take charge of the lot of you, and will post a man at the 'phone ready to call up the other parties. This here young fellow, Harry Dance, will follow us in five minutes after we've started, and when he's gone for five minutes, this here Tim will make in after him, and ef we are longer still, and moving up, Frank Stebbins will take the track into the mine so as to keep in contact. It will be a sort of relay business. Ef we get held up, the message can be passed back, and ef we want help some of you can come in after us. Only mind, there's always got to be a guard standing here in case the fellow doubles; for you've got to remember that in the workings in there there are burrows in all directions, and a man can leave the main gallery and turn and twist and come back on his tracks and easily avoid a search-party."

Donning the rubber shoes which had been brought for them, and each of them tucking a portion of bread and meat into his pockets, while Dan and the Sheriff shouldered the cans of tea, the party saw to their weapons. Jim made sure that the electric torch he carried was in working order, and thrust the reserve one in his pocket. Then, at a nod from the Sheriff, and a cheery "Good luck!" from the party who were to remain behind, and who watched their departure ruefully, Jim led the way into the mine, and presently he and his friends were swallowed up by the darkness.