Boy Scouts on the Great Divide Part 26

The ex-convict lay with his face turned upward, his arms folded across his breast. At first there were no indication of life.

CHAPTER XIX

SHERIFF PETE'S WINK

"He can't be dead!" cried Chester, trying to lift the still figure in his arms. "The wound he received was not a serious one."

"I'll tell you what I think," Will replied.

"I think he's weak from lack of food and sleep I don't believe these train robbers have been very considerate of him."

"But I don't see why they should misuse him!"

"They probably didn't have enough to eat themselves," Will returned.

"Don't you remember how one of them came to camp and set Tommy to cooking for him, and how we frightened him away by saying that the detectives were just beyond the circle of light?"

"That was the night I was loitering around the camp waiting to get to one of you boys in order to ask you to help me find father," Chester replied. "Don't you remember you chased me up that night, and I ran away in the darkness, and one of the boys came upon the train robber and the other came upon one of the detectives."

"That was Tommy and Sandy," Will answered. "George and I were asleep in our tent when all that took place."

"I guess he's about starved all right!" Chester said lifting his father into a sitting position. "We'd better get some of the men down here and have him carried into the cavern."

"But look here," Will warned, "there mustn't a word be said about the detectives coming in here after him!"

"Why not?" asked Chester.

"Because, as I have told you before, if the sheriff understands that your father was a fugitive from justice, he'll send him to Chicago under arrest. It will be his duty to do so, in fact."

"And what do you boys propose to do with him?"

"We're going to take him back to Chicago and keep him out of the reach of the police. He knows something about a case we're interested in which he will never tell if sent back to prison."

"If he's sent back to prison," Chester replied, "you may be sure that he won't be willing to help anybody."

"He is innocent of the crime of which he was convicted, isn't he?" asked Will. "In other words, he was jobbed!"

"That's the truth!" cried Chester.

"Well, what we've got to do is to prove that!" Will went on.

"Can you do it?" asked the son, anxiously.

"We think we can," was the reply.

"If you can, father will do anything he can for you, you may be sure of that," Chester answered warmly.

"But the whole success of our scheme depends on our keeping your father out of the clutches of the officers until we land him in Mr. Horton's office in Chicago. For the first time in our lives," Will continued, "we are opposing the officers of the law. As a rule that isn't a good thing for Boy Scouts to do, but we think we are fully justified in the course we are taking in this case."

"What is it you want father to testify to?" asked Chester.

"I don't think we'd better stop now to discuss that," Will answered.

"I'm sure it can't be anything dishonorable."

"It's nothing dishonorable," Will a.s.sured the boy. "We believe that your father's testimony will save the life of a young man accused of murder.

That's all I can tell you now."

"You refer to the Fremont case?" asked Chester.

"Exactly!" answered Will. "To the Fremont suicide case."

"The police call it the Fremont murder case!"

"So you have been reading about that, too, have you?" asked Will.

"I read about it in the newspapers on the day following what took place at the bank," Chester answered, "and I couldn't help a feeling of contempt for the police when I understood how wrong they were."

"So you know about that, too?"

"I know all about it!" replied Chester.

Will could have hugged the boy. He had long been wondering whether the testimony of Mr. Wagner would be accepted in court after the wound which had rendered him mentally incompetent had been discussed by physicians.

He knew that in many cases men so injured never fully recovered.

It seemed almost like a miracle that the escaped convict's son should know something of the matter, too. The boy knew that even if Mr. Wagner fully recovered from his injury the police would object to his testimony on the ground of previous insanity. If the boy could corroborate the statements made by his father, that would prove sufficient.

Will was about to ask the lad further questions when the escaped convict opened his eyes and looked about.

His gaze sought the searchlight first, and then rested on the face of his son. Chester drew nearer and bent over him.

"Did I have a fall?" the man asked weakly.

He put his thin hand to his head as he spoke and drew it away covered with blood.

"Why this seems to be a fresh wound," Chester exclaimed, anxiously.

"Yes," replied the father, "I remember of hearing the sound of guns, and sensing the odor of powder smoke, and started to run down the pa.s.sage and fell. I remember a shooting pain in my head and that's about all until I heard your voices and saw the light."

"Do you know where you are?" asked Will.

The escaped convict looked inquiringly at his son.

"Who is this boy?" he asked.