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The fellow was in a state of wonderment as he did so.
"Who are you, anyway?" asked the fellow called Bill.
"I am Ted Strong."
"Then it's all up. We're done for," said the train robber, in a resigned voice.
CHAPTER XXIV.
TED HOLDS A PROFITABLE BAG.
Tom signaled to Ted to step aside, and, telling Stella to keep the other fellow covered with her revolver, Ted accompanied him.
"Thank yer fer turnin' me loose," said Tom. "I've been tryin' ter get away fer months, but couldn't. Here's a tip: They're goin' ter rob ther Overland Express t'-night right out yon at that little station yer can see from ther top o' ther rise. Ther loot is ter be hid near Bubbly Spring until things blow over, but ther gang will come here. Thar's my tip. Good-by. I'm off."
The fellow disappeared up the bank of the stream.
Ted bound the other upon the back of his pony, which he found not far from the scene of his own downfall, and conveyed him to Green River, where he placed him in jail, with instructions that he should be allowed to communicate with no one.
Then he and Stella returned to the Billings ranch house.
"Say nothing whatever about our adventure," said Ted, as he and Stella rode along discussing the matter. "I think there will be something doing there to-night."
When they got back to the ranch, Ted simply explained their absence by saying that they had ridden farther than they had at first intended.
Ted was introduced to the other guests, who had arrived in his absence.
There was Mr. Norcross, the banker, who looked a little sheepish when Ted shook hands with him and acted as if he had never seen him before.
The man with the black mustache and the red necktie was Mr. Dennis Corrigan, of Chicago, and neither he nor the boys appeared to have seen him before. The young man with the pointed beard was Mr. van Belder, of New York.
Colonel Billings was full of hospitable notions, and made the afternoon pa.s.s delightfully.
"They tell me there is very good shooting in the neighborhood at times,"
said Mr. Corrigan, as they all sat on the veranda in the afternoon.
"Excellent," said the colonel. "At this time of the year the snipe shooting is fine."
"What is the best time to shoot them?" asked Van Belder.
"I should say after dark," said the host, with an imperceptible wink at Mr. Corrigan.
"I don't see how you can shoot snipe after dark," said Ted.
"You don't exactly shoot them," explained Mr. Corrigan. "It's this way, and a fine game, and often practiced in South Chicago: The party goes out, and one holds the bag while the rest go along and drive the birds in, and the fellow who holds the bag catches them in it. It's lots easier than shooting them, and you get more birds."
"By Jove, that's a new experience to me!" said Ted. "I'd like to try it."
Mr. van Belder looked at him curiously, but drawled that he thought it very fine sport. So it was agreed that that night they should go on a snipe-bagging expedition.
The party was to be made up of Ted, who was eager to hold the bag for the snipe to run into; Mr. Corrigan, the colonel, Mr. van Belder, and a few others.
Most of the boys declined absolutely to go.
"Say, aire ye gittin' plumb dotty?" asked Bud, when he got Ted out of hearing. "Tell me, is it possible thet yer eyeteeth aire so far secreted up inter yer head thet yer don't know erbout baggin' snipe?"
But all the answer Bud got was a wink.
"Now, what hez ther hombre got up his sleeve, I wonder?" said Bud, as he wandered off.
Ted and Stella had an animated conversation a few minutes later out of the sight and hearing of the others. But Stella walked off, smiling. She knew.
It was just getting dark when the party left the ranch house.
Ted carried a large, empty sack over his shoulder. With the organizers of the party went Bud, Ben, Kit, Carl, and Clay.
The maddest person in the house that evening was Stella, because she couldn't go, too. But as she said good-by to the party from the steps of the ranch house she smiled comprehensively at Ted.
A walk of a half mile brought the party to the edge of a small creek.
"Now," said Mr. Corrigan, "here's where you wait with the bag while we go up to the creek and chase them down. You may have to wait a little while, and you must have patience."
"Don't worry about me," answered Ted; "I have plenty of that. I'll be here when the snipe come down, and if any of them get away, charge them to me."
After they had been gone some time Ted lit a match and looked at his watch. It was a quarter to nine.
The Overland Express was due in Green River at nine-twenty. The little red station of Polifax would foe pa.s.sed by ten minutes after she left Green River.
While he was in Green River that afternoon Ted had been very careful to find the exact location of Bubbly Spring. He was more than two miles from it in his blind to wait for the snipe.
As soon as the cras.h.i.+ng of the feet of the snipe drivers and the shouts and laughter had died away, Ted left his hiding place and darted through the dark woods and swampy ground for Bubbly Spring.
Long before he got there he heard the long screech of the whistle of the Overland Express announcing its approach at Green River, and a few minutes later its whistle that it was on its way. He had just reached Bubbly Spring and concealed himself in the bushes when the whistle gave a long shriek of danger.
The signal of the train robbers had been given at Polifax. The engineer had seen the red light and had whistled to the trainmen that danger was ahead, and that he was going to stop.
In a few moments Ted heard a few pops, and knew that the train robbers were firing their revolvers alongside of the train to prevent interference.
What if the train robbers should fail?
The train started up again, and Ted knew by that that n.o.body had been killed, and it added to his anxiety as to the success of the robbery. He wanted it to occur, for if he could secure the loot he could destroy the train robbers surely.
All he wanted now was tangible evidence. He lay back breathlessly in the bushes, waiting. Soon he heard the rapid hoofbeats of horses, then a cras.h.i.+ng in the bushes.
These noises were approaching him rapidly. The crisis was at hand.