Edward Stratemeyer - Boys of The Fort - or, A Young Captain's Pluck

"Thank you," returned Joe. "I was only thinking I'd like to see my brother soon, that's all."

"A few hours more or less won't make much difference," said Darry. He had looked around the trapper's cabin, and was interested. "Let us wait." And so it was arranged.

It did not take long to get a bit of supper, and in less than half an hour Sam Benson was off, astride of a powerful steed which had been Hank Leeson's pride for years.

"Jest tell him to go to the fort," said Leeson, "and he'll carry ye thar with his eyes shet," and he gave a parting salute to the old scout.

The cabin was a primitive affair of rough logs, with the chinks filled with dried clay. It contained two rooms, each about twelve feet square. Back of the cabin was a lean-to where Leeson kept his horses, two in number. There was room for more animals, so the beasts ridden by our friends were easily accommodated.

Night had fallen by the time the horses had been rubbed down and fed and the boys had finished their evening repast, and it was dark when they gathered around the doorstep to rest. Hank Leeson sat on a chopping-block, cleaning his rifle and smoking at the same time, and as the three rested Joe told of his adventure in the cave, and Darry took up the tale of the bear.

"You had a lucky escape, lad," said the trapper. "A lucky escape, an' no error. Like as not them desperadoes would have killed ye, had they caught ye."

"I've been thinking – do you imagine they'll come here to-night?" asked Darry.

Hank Leeson shook his head.

"Don't allow as they will. About a year ago I gave thet Fetter fair warnin' if he showed his face about my cabin I'd plug him full o' holes, an' I sent Gilroy the same message. They know me, an' know I won't stand any nonsense. They'll be likely to give me a wide berth. They know I aint got much worth stealin'."

"Then we ought to be safe until the soldiers get the news."

"Reckon you will be, lad," answered the trapper.

He was very much of a quaint character, and for two hours the boys sat up, listening to his tales of encounters with wild animals, desperadoes, and Indians.

"I've had my own little fun with b'ars," he said. "Got in a tree onct, and a b'ar kept me there fer a whole day. I had wounded him in the leg, and in running over a brook I dropped my gun."

"How did you get away?" asked Darry.

"I didn't know what to do fust. The b'ar had me foul, and kept right at the bottom of the tree all the time. With his wounded leg he couldn't come up, and I didn't dare to go down, and there we was – a-lookin' at each other, he a-growlin' and I a-sayin' all kind o' unpleasant things about him."

"Didn't you have a pistol?"

"No, all I had with me at the time was a powder-horn, a matchbox, and my pocket-knife. What to do I didn't know, and I was a-thinkin' I'd be starved out, when a thought struck me to blow him up with powder."

"Blow him up!" cried both boys.

"Thet's wot, lads – blow him up. I had a handkerchief, ye see, an' into this I dumped 'bout half my powder, an' into the powder I put three matches, with the ends pointing out. Then I tied powder an' matches into a hard lump and watched my chance. There was a flat rock near the roots of the tree, and putty soon Mr. B'ar squatted on this rock. Then I let drive fer the rock, an' the powder an' matches landed good an' hard, I can tell ye."

"And exploded?" put in Joe eagerly.

"Yes, exploded with a noise ye could hear 'most a mile, I calkerlate. The powder flashed straight up into thet ba'r's face, blindin' him and tearing his jaw half off, and the way he ran to save himself was a caution. As soon as he was gone I dropped down and ran for my gun. Then I made after the b'ar and caught him between the rocks and finished him."

This was the last story told that night, and soon after the tale was concluded Leeson showed the boys into the inner room of the cabin, where there was something of a rough bed with a straw mattress.

"Make yerselves ter hum," he said. "It aint no hotel, but it's the best I've got to offer ye."

"But we don't want to turn you out," said Darry.

"I'll make myself comfortable near the door," answered Leeson. "I want to sleep with one eye open – in case those rascals should take a notion to come this way."

The boys were glad enough to rest indoors again and take off the clothing they had worn during the storm.

"Camping out is well enough," declared Joe; "but I don't want too much of it."

"Oh, we've seen the worst side of it," returned Darry. "I expect lots of good times when we get to the fort."

"Oh, so do I, for the matter of that."

After turning in it did not take long for the cousins to get to sleep, and a little while later Hank Leeson also threw himself down to rest. But the old trapper remained close to the doorstep, and slept with his rifle near at hand.

An hour went by, and the darkness and silence continued. There was no moon, and only a few stars were visible. At a distance a few night birds were calling, and occasionally the howl of some lonely wolf could be heard, but that was all.

At last from out of the darkness of the trail came three men on foot. They were Matt Gilroy and his companions. They had tethered their horses in the bushes some distance away. They stole toward the cabin like so many grim and silent shadows.

"Go slow, men," came softly from Gilroy. "You know what kind of a man Leeson is."

"Reckon I do know," came in a growl from Fetter. "And I've got an account to settle with him, too."

"I'm pretty certain the boy is here," went on the leader. "But we must make sure if the others are here too, or if they have ridden off to the fort. If they have gone to the fort – "

"Hist!" came in warning from Potts. "You're talking too much. I've heard that this Leeson sleeps with his ears wide open."

"He does," grumbled Fetter; and then the three desperadoes relapsed into silence.

They were advancing upon the cabin from the rear, and each held a ready pistol in his hand, while his rifle was slung over his back. They had seen the boys and Benson head for the trapper's home while it was still light and they were on a high cliff; but darkness had closed in on the scene, and they had come up to the spot in ignorance of what had followed.

Tiptoeing their way they reached the lean-to where the horses had been stabled, and with caution Gilroy went inside. By feeling the animals he soon learned that three had been in use but a few hours before, while the fourth was cool and comfortable.

"Their horses are here," he announced. "And a fourth is here, too."

"That's Leeson's," answered Fetter. "But I thought he had two or three."

"Might as well take them while we have the chance," murmured Potts. "Four nags will bring some money over at Highwater. We can get Gingo to sell 'em."

"Let them out," answered Gilroy. "Without horses they'll have their hands full trying to follow us."

It was no easy task to untie the horses in a place that was pitch-dark, and it took some time to get even the horses belonging to our friends released.

As Fetter and Potts took the animals out, Gilroy worked to untie the sturdy mare belonging to Hank Leeson. This was a pet animal, and not used to strangers. As Gilroy caught hold of the halter she gave a neigh of suspicion.

"Hush!" murmured the desperado, and ran his hand down the mare's nose. But this made her skittish, and she stamped sharply half a dozen times.

"What's up thar?" came in Hank Leeson's voice, and the trapper was wide awake on the instant. "Whoa, Nancy, whoa!"

"Hang the luck!" muttered Gilroy, and ran outside after Fetter and Potts. "He must have been on the watch."

"We must get out!" responded Fetter. "He's a sure-shot, remember. Nothing but the darkness can save us."