Читать книгу Deadwood Dick Jr. Branded: or, Red Rover at Powder Pocket. - Wheeler Edward Lytton - Страница 2

Deadwood Dick, Junior!

He it was who had, at the risk of his life, made this break to cheat the train-robbers.

"Follow me, every man of you who has a gun!" he called out to them. "We can do these fellows up in short order, if we go for them in the right manner. Who is with me?"

There was another cheer at that.

"We're with you to a man!" some one shouted. "You lead the way, and see if we ain't."

"All right! Follow me, but if I go down, don't let that check you; go right on and you will run clear over them by force of numbers. Now, then, here we go for them!"

With that, Dick dashed out of the doors and leaped to the ground, his brace of revolvers in hand ready to do execution.

He began firing the moment he touched the ground.

Two other fellows had followed, but, at the return fire from the outlaws, one of these fell dead and the other lost the use of an arm by a bullet.

Dick himself had the closest kind of a call, a bullet zipping past his face so close that he felt it touch his skin, taking away a strand of his long hair in its flight.

But that did not stop him even for an instant. Two men had already gone down before him, and now a third, and, had he been supported, the victory would have been easy; but those who had cheered the loudest were the first to draw back, when they saw the others drop.

They hesitated, drew back, and then dived into the cars again as if it were raining bullets without, and dauntless Dick Bristol was left entirely alone and unsupported.

Hearing the outlaws yell, Dick looked back and realized his position.

Without turning to look the other way again, for that would have been to lose a fraction of a second of opportunity, he dropped to the ground and almost the same instant came the sharp crack of three or four rifles.

For a moment there he lay; then his revolvers cracked, bringing out at least one cry of pain. Again he was on his feet, dashing for the nearest car. Once more he dropped, not because he saw any one aiming at him, but because he knew they had had just time to do so.

Very true guess, for the rifles spoke out, and again he had escaped their bullets.

Upon the instant, another leap carried him to the platform, and for the time being he was safe.

"Curse you for the cowards you are!" he cried, facing his fellow-passengers.

"Why did you not back me up as you promised? We had them dead to rights then, had you but done your part!"

"And they would now have us dead," argued one of the timid ones, "the same as that poor fellow they did drop."

"And whose death counts for nothing, because you did not take advantage of the moment," retorted Dick, hotly.

Dick Bristol was disgusted.

Outside the cars, now, at a sufficient distance to command a good view, men were watching for the appearance of a head.

The same trick could not be repeated; the advantage once lost was lost for good and all, and Fighting Dick's chagrin was great to think that he had risked so much and gained so little.

"And for whose death you are responsible," rejoined the one who had spoken before.

"Not so much as are you," cried Dick.

"It was not I who led the foolhardy attack," the retort.

"We are all well aware of that," sneered Dick. "You were too much a coward even to follow."

"You mean I had too much good sense."

"I mean what I said."

"Then you lie!"

Smack!

That man was stretched his full length the same instant.

"A little too much, that, when I risked my life to lead you to an attack that would have been a success if you had only supported me. There is no good reason why those fellows should not be our prisoners this minute!"

No one else ventured to dispute the point, and the fellow Dick had floored got slowly up, nursing an injured eye, and went muttering to a seat and sat down, while Dick paced up and down the car aisle, like a caged tiger. For a leader so intrepid, the defeat was crushing.

In the mean time the looting of the express-car had been successfully accomplished.

The car was a strong one, built without end doors, and calculated to withstand a severe siege, but it was not, of course, proof against dynamite.

The messenger had made a good defense, but, after the explosion, which shattered the side door and made a huge rent in the side of the car, it was found that he had been killed by a piece of the flying iron.

"Served him right!" cried Captain Joaquin. "If he had opened the door in the first place we wouldn't 'a' harmed him."

"They will never learn sense," from one of his men.

"He never will; that's certain."

They bounded into the car, a sledge was used to open the safe, and therein was found the treasure they were after.

There were several packages of bills, each marked $10,000, and each securely tied and sealed. These Captain Joaquin seized upon immediately, and crammed into a bag which hung by a strap from his shoulder.

"Is that all?" asked his men.

"Don't see anything more, do you?" he demanded.

"Not here; but the passengers may pan out well if we run 'em through the mill."

"To Hades with the passengers! What do we want with them after this rich haul? But, hold on! There is one of them that I want and must have."

"You want a particular passenger?" demanded one of the men, in amaze.

"Yes, I want but one particular person."

"Which one?"

"The fellow who killed Charlie and Bill, and almost stampeded the train. I know him, and he shall pay dearly for it. Besides, he is a chap that we want out of our way, anyhow."

"Why, who is he, captain?"

"Only Deadwood Dick, Junior, is all."

"Deadwood Dick!"

The little that could be seen of their faces, beneath their masks, proved that more than one of them went pale on hearing that name spoken.

"Nobody else, and he is our mutton now, and we'll make him the sickest man in seven counties before we get done with him. He has been after us long enough; now we'll hunt the man-hunter to his doom."

"Hurrah! that is the talk, captain!"

The captain leaped out of the car, the others after him, and Captain Joaquin shouted to the men on the engine:

"Hold those two fellows under strict cover, boys, until I give you the word; then get down and let them go. I'll be done in a minute, now; soon as I get a man."

"All right, captain!"

"Come on, boys!"

The leader ran in the direction of the smoker, the others at his heels, save those who were standing guard around the train, and leaping up the steps he boldly entered.

Deadwood Dick was sitting sullenly in his seat, having deposited his valuables in the legs of his boots, and would not lift a finger to defend the passengers who had failed to support him at the critical moment.

He did not know what was coming, else he could have picked Captain Joaquin off easily as he entered the door.

"Hands up!" shouted the captain.

His own revolver and half a dozen more over his shoulders covered the whole company.

Up went their hands, Deadwood Dick's among the rest, and all expected the usual course of proceedings to follow; but in that they were mistaken.

"Don't be alarmed, gentlemen," called out the leader. "I don't want your tin this time; I am after the chap who led the insurrection in this car awhile ago. Deadwood Dick, Junior, rise up and surrender, or we will fill you full of lead where you sit! Take your choice."