Jack Ranger's Western Trip Part 26

"Call in and see me any time you're in this direction," said the well-shooter, as he shook hands at parting with Mr. Post and the boys.

"I will," replied the miner, "when you've gone into the grocery business or taken an agency for a life insurance company. Otherwise it's too risky."

When the travelers got back to the station they found the engineer putting the finis.h.i.+ng touches to the repairs he and the fireman had been making. The train was about to start.

"Where have you been?" asked the conductor as the boys and the miner got aboard.

"We've been having a race with death and it nearly won," replied Mr.

Post, more solemnly than he had yet spoken.

"What's the matter with him? Is he one of those religious fanatics?"

asked the conductor, as the miner hurried into the car.

"Not much," answered Jack. "We had as narrow a call as I ever want to experience." While the train was getting under way he told the ticket-taker what had happened.

The next stop of importance which was reached early the next morning was at Cleveland, and there the boys learned they would have to wait seven hours for another train, as there had been some change in the schedules.

"Couldn't be better," said Mr. Post, when he heard about it. "I've always wanted to see a big body of water and here's my chance. What do you boys say to a trip out on Lake Erie? The trolleys go there, I heard a brakeman say."

The three chums, who had learned to like their new acquaintance more and more, thought it would be a fine trip to pa.s.s away the time.

Accordingly after dinner, they boarded an electric car which took them in the direction of the lake.

"Shall we go inside or ride on the platform?" asked the miner, as he paid the fares.

"Let's stay outside," suggested Nat. "Tumbling trolley cars! But this is quite a town. Let's see all we can."

So the four remained on the rear platform. It was not crowded, but, in a little while a number of men got on. The boys and Mr. Post were obliged to move back into the corner. Still they could see well from there.

One of the men who was standing close to the miner was smoking a large cigar. He seemed particular of the ashes, and appeared to be trying for a record in the matter of the length of them. They extended from the burned part of the rolled tobacco more than an inch, and at every lurch of the car, the smoker was quite solicitous lest they be knocked off.

At length the man standing in front of him jostled against him, as the car gave a sudden jerk. The ashes flew in a shower over Mr. Post, who was standing directly behind the smoker.

"What's the matter with you? Don't you know how to ride on a car?"

demanded the man with the cigar, of the one who had jostled him.

"I beg your pardon, I'm sure," said the other humbly. "It was not intentional, I a.s.sure you."

"You're a clumsy fellow," the other went on, in a loud voice. "Look here; you've made me knock ashes all over this gentleman," and he turned to Mr. Post.

"That's all right," the miner said pleasantly, for he felt sorry for the other man. "He couldn't help it."

"He ought to be made to help it," the smoker went on, as if very indignant. "People who don't know how to ride on cars ought to keep off. I shall write a letter to the papers about it. Allow me to dust the ashes off your vest."

The man drew from his pocket a large white handkerchief, with which he began wiping the cigar ashes from Mr. Post's clothing.

"Awfully careless of me, too," he murmured. "Hope you take no offense."

"Not at all," the miner was saying. "It was all an accident, I'm sure. You--"

Then, the miner's tone, which had been mild, suddenly changed. He made a grab for the hand of the young man who was dusting his vest off, and cried:

"No, you don't, you scoundrel! Now I see what your game is! Let go my diamond pin or I'll shoot you!" and he made a motion toward his pocket, while the other pa.s.sengers on the platform made hasty movements to get off.

CHAPTER XVII

THE WILD STEER

Mr. Post had the cigar smoker tightly by the wrist. The young man tried to break away, but as there were other persons between him and the car steps he was hemmed in. He made a rapid motion toward the pa.s.senger whom he had so berated for jostling him.

"Ah, I thought so!" exclaimed the gray-haired man, who had remained a quiet spectator of the excitement. "It's about time I took a hand in the game."

He made a rapid motion, intercepted the hand of the smoker which had been extended to the original cause of the disturbance, and grabbing something from it said:

"There's your diamond, stranger. Take care of it until I put the nippers on these thieves!"

The gray-haired man tried to edge his way around the crowd to get close to the two men who seemed to be the princ.i.p.al actors in the adventure. As he did so, the man who had been smoking--making a flying leap over the back platform railing, darted up the street. At the same time the man who had been accused of causing the cigar ashes to scatter over Mr. Post's vest, slipped from the steps and made a hurried run for the sidewalk.

"After him, some one!" cried the gray-haired man. "I'll get the other chap. He's the main one. The other is only a confederate," and he was off in a trice.

The car did not stop, though several men, understanding what it was all about, called the conductor.

"Can't delay," replied the knight of the bell-rope. "If you want to see the fun, get off. Pickpockets are too common to stop the car for."

"Well, I reckon I blocked his game that time," said Mr. Post, as he looked at the diamond which had lately adorned his s.h.i.+rt front. "I don't read the newspapers for nothing, and they'll find Josh Post is hard to beat."

"What did he do to you?" asked some of the pa.s.sengers.

"Tried to frisk me out of my sparkler," replied the miner. "It's a new way of working an old trick, but I read about it in a New York paper last week."

"How did he do it?" asked Jack.

"There were two of 'em," Mr. Post went on. "That fellow had his cigar, with lots of ashes on it, already for me. Then the other fellow bunked into him, and he flicked the ashes on me. Of course he made a play to pretend it was the other fellow's fault, and he started to brush me off. But while he was doing it with his big handkerchief, he was taking out my diamond. I caught him just in time."

"But who was the man who chased him, and gave you back your diamond?"

asked Jack.

"Detective, I reckon," replied the miner. "They're often riding on the cars on the lookout for just such things as that."

"That's who he was," the conductor explained. "There's been a lot of pickpockets here lately, and the detectives are riding back and forth all day. Hope he catches that fellow."

"Don't worry me any," said Mr. Post "I've got my diamond back," and he placed the sparkling stone in his pocket for safe keeping.

Whether the detective ever caught the slick thief the boys never learned. They made the trip out to Lake Erie, and when they had looked at the big body of water and taken a short trip in a launch they returned to the station to find it was nearly the hour set for the departure of their train.

"Things seem to be coming our way," remarked Mr. Post after they had been riding half an hour. "We've had lively times since we met, boys.