A Woman at Bay Part 25

All that morning Nick had noticed signs that he was approaching the region where he would find the hobo gang. He had seen where trees had been chopped down and corded up for firewood; and there were many other signs that many men were in the vicinity.

When he came to the shelter of the Dog's Nose, he stopped there, and, having fixed himself a temporary camp, resolved that he would remain there until night, for he had some hope that some of the hoboes would happen along, and that he could talk with them.

That was his game; not to sneak upon them unawares, but to let it be known that he was in the neighborhood, so that Handsome would come to him. He wanted that ordeal over with Handsome as soon as possible.

He was destined not to be disappointed. The afternoon was well advanced when Handsome suddenly stepped out of a cl.u.s.ter of balsams, and stood before him.

He had approached as silently as an Indian; as if he had pa.s.sed his life in woodcraft, and, indeed, Nick had no doubt that he had.

For a moment he stood there near the balsams, silently regarding the detective; and Nick, perfectly acting the part of Turner, looked up and nodded, but said nothing.

After a little Handsome strode forward, no longer taking care to remain quiet; and he seated himself on a log near Nick, and facing him, while at the same time he toyed with apparent carelessness with a revolver he held in his hand.

"What brings you here, Turner?" he asked at last.

"The season of the year brings me," was the reply. "I have come here every autumn at this time for more'n fifty years."

"Indeed!" Handsome looked at him with new interest. "Is that true?" he asked.

"I wouldn't have any reason to lie to ye, would I?" asked Nick. "Old Bill Turner hasn't missed a year in fifty years in coming here, Mr.

Handsome."

"Then you must know these hills mighty well, eh?"

"I know every inch of 'em; every leaf that falls on 'em, almost. That's the way I know 'em."

"And do you know about the places under the hills as well?"

"Do you mean the caves?"

"I do."

"I know 'em purty well--yes. There is some parts of 'em that n.o.body knows, I reckon; and while I--well, maybe I don't know all about 'em, and maybe I'd get lost in 'em now; only I don't think so."

"What do you know about that hole up there, under that rock that is shaped like the nose of a dog?"

"I know it's a hole. I reckon that's about all that anybody knows about it. It's a dark sort of a place. I ain't got no fancy for goin' into it."

"Does it connect with the main part of the cavern?"

"Maybe it does, and maybe it doesn't; but most likely it does; only I don't think that anybody would be after trying to find out."

"You have never been through that hole, then?"

"I ain't never been inside of it," replied Nick, with perfect truth.

Handsome thought a moment, and then he asked suddenly:

"Turner, who sent you up here?"

"n.o.body sent me; why?"

"Didn't the people of Calamont send you to find me and my followers?"

"Nary a bit of it."

"Well, now that you have seen me, and know that I am here, and therefore guess that others are here with me, what would you do about it if you should go back to Calamont now, and somebody there should ask you if you had seen me?"

"Look here, Handsome, I don't meddle with other people's affairs. I want 'em to leave mine alone, and consequently I leave theirn alone. You hear me speak!"

"But what answer would you make if that question was asked of you?"

"I probably shouldn't answer at all."

"Suppose an answer was insisted upon?"

"I ain't never found n.o.body yet who could make old Bill Turner answer a question if he didn't want to."

"Do you mean that you would not wish to answer that question?"

"Look here, Handsome, if you want me to promise that I won't tell on ye, why don't you say so? What you and your fellers do ain't none of my funeral, so long as you leave me alone. Do you think I came up here to spy on you?"

"That is what I thought when I first discovered you."

"Well, forget it. I ain't carryin' no tales. I'd 'a' been dead long ago if I had done that. Life's too short. I ain't never mentioned to n.o.body about the two times I have met you, and I ain't likely to, either. I ain't got time. You ain't robbed my house, and I don't care what you do as long as you leave me alone."

Again Handsome was silent a while, and then he said suddenly:

"Turner, would you like to go to our camp?"

"No; that is, I ain't particular about it. You might think I was trying to spy on ye--or some of the men might, and that would make me mad."

"They won't think anything of the kind if I take you there."

"All right. If you want me to go--I'll go."

"Come along, then. You have got this far, and we've either got to trust you, or kill you. It will depend upon you which that will be."

Keeping in his mind's eye the plans that Turner had made for him, Nick knew perfectly the route over which Handsome led him on the way to the camp, to which he had referred.

It was a picturesque place. Turner had described it in detail to the detective, and had mentioned it as the most likely place for the outlaws to make their headquarters. He had said:

"Ye see, mister, it's a sort of sa.s.ser in the mountings. There ain't only one way to git to it from the outside, and that is a purty hard one; so hard that half a dozen men could hold it agin' a thousand; and the other way to git to it is through the caves; and ye've got to know them galleries mighty well in order to find yer way through. I think you'll do it, because you act as if you had been in caves afore."

The place was a "sa.s.ser" in the mountains, sure enough. On every side of it there were frowning cliffs, which rose hundreds of feet in the air; and these cliffs were as inaccessible from the outside as they were from the saucer itself. There was only one pathway, and that was through a narrow fissure, barely wide enough for one big man to walk through it.

And this latter could have been stopped up with rocks in half an hour, so that n.o.body could get through it.