HOW DICK HELD THE PASS; A TALE FOR THE BOYS.

Otago Witness, Issue 1935, 26 March 1891, Page 34

HOW DICK HELD THE PASS; A TALE FOR THE BOYS.

By P. Y. Black.

Dick had been in mischief, and of course waa now in trouble. He was staying with his father's Bister at Fort W , and bad taken his little cousin on a fishing expedition. She had fallen in, and of course Dick was blamed. But his aunt waß unusually barßh. The little girl was delicate, anyway, and a pet. " Don't tell me, Dick," said her mother ; " you could have saved her. She might have drowned. You Jnust have 'behaved like a coward."

In all hia life Dick had never been called a coward. His whole face tingled now, as if a whip-lash had been sharply drawn across it. His father was a soldier and his uncle a soldier. He had been born in the army, and lived all his short life out West in a military post. He had mingled always with men whose tales of " dare-and-do " had been sweet musioto him. No little word in all the vocabulary of shame could have affected him bo much as that his aunt had unheedingly spoken. " Coward ! " He! stood for a while quite silently, all alone. He {was too proud to protest against such an injustice, too much of a man to break into silly wrath about "it. He turned away from thp porch, and held his head all the more proudly becaust there was in eaoh eye one big, rebellious tear. He turned away from the officers' quarters and crossed the parade ground of the fort, and turned down to the corral, where his own particular pet— bis ugly Indian "pink-eye" pony — was. Ugly he was, but stout and true to Dick, and would take' him anywhere. Dick went to him for comfort. Ponobo's nose, and tbe warm smell of his neck when one laid one'a cheek against jit, would have [comforted any boy. "Phwat'a de matter wid you, Masther Diok?" the soldier on watch in the corral asked. Dick was friends with all the soldiers, and they had taught him many tricks with pistol and gun, but just now he did not feel fit to answer cheerfully. He said, " Nothing," and fed Poncho some bread from his pocket. The Irish cavalryman had sometimes " felt mean " himself, and knew just how it was. " There's a murtherin' power of sage hens down by the river," he said, as if to himself, and watched Dick prick tip his ears eagerly. - " Fat as pigs they be, and eatin' their heads off in the Bunnower patches. Them sunflower seeds is pork and (beans to a sage ben. Was you thinkin' of takin' a gun along, Masther Diok?"

Dick had not said anything about going anywhere, gun or no gun, but he was an eager young hunter, and the mention of sage hens roused Mb sporting instinct. He was too angry to go home, even for dinner, and the sage hens would make him forget his wrongs for the time. And then the paymaster, his father, was to be in to pay the men off next morning. Why shouldn't Diok go and meet him and coma back with him ? So he didn't object when the soldier saddled Poncho, but took his gun from the sergeant'B room, where he always kept it, and rode off.

Dick could ride — not merely sit astride a horse, and Poncho and he were so thoroughly in the confidence of eaoh other that the boy s sturdy figure seemed the upper and controlling pars of one creature. The wind sang merrily past his ears, and the trail vanished like a' flying ribbon beneath the pony's feet. Dick's eyes began to brighten and his face to glow. Soon he neared the bed of sunflowers, and he slaokened his pace, dismounted, and drove his picket pin into the earth. Then while Poncho grazed at eaße, Diok crept up cautiously to the sunflowers. " Whir-r-r ! " Up rose the birds, and " crack ! crack ! " went both the boy's barrels. " Whir-r-r ! " to the right of him this time, Quickly the cartridges were slipped in the chamber, " Oraok J crack!" once more. It was pretty good sport, and three plumps sage hens were the result.

No wonder that Dick jumped eagerly on Poncho and rode further down tbe river. No wonder that he forgot all about his dinner, and rode off tbe trail in 83arch of further sport. And the farther he went the more fun Ponoho and he seemed to find, till the autumn day waa dying and the evening closed lv, and the qualms of his inner man warned him he could not do without eating altogether. Somehow, to gat back is never as eaay as to go away. For a mile or so Diok cantered gaily along, thinking only of the good gamebag he had scoured, and never doubting his course. But night camo on before be knew it was so late, and the telegraph posts disappeared in the darkness, and all around was a black lonely wilderness.

Then be stood still and felt almost afraid. Without doubt he tad got lost — and that, on the lonely prairie, is an unpleasant experienoe for anyone. He did not lose bis prossnca of mind, though. He rode along carefully, trying to judge hia way by the stars just appearing in the sky. And then he fired off his gun and shouted, and Poncho stood quite still, with his

ears pricked up, and listened for the result. There was no result in the shape of any answering call. Dick heard nothing bnt tbe moan of the wind among the grasses of the prairie and the far-away cry of a flying coyote. Then he got desperate and dug bia spurs into Poncho and rode off at a great pace in one direotion, for, aB he Baid, "it is bound to take me somewhere,"

It did, for it led him to the course of a oreek.and he followed its banks down in the direotion of a river. But there were many ravines along the edges of the creek on both Bides, and their depth of shadow and mysterious darkness had an overpowering attraction for Dick. He could not help peering up into their dismal width, and all at once, aa be passed the mouth of a very deep and dark gulch, he halted Ponoho sharply. Far up the ravine he saw a light. Now, Diok was used to the prairie. He had been born on it, and knew something of the manner ,of life of all the dwellers thereon. He was " partner " with the soldiers, and qnite "chummy" with lots of cowboys, bo he plunged straightway into the ravine, feeling glad at heart, and made for what he knew must be a camp fire. And ao it was.

They were cowboys, or said they were, but Dick was a little surprised that they should appear bo alarmed at hia sudden appearanoe. They were all stretched out at ease beside a big fire smoking their pipes, and their horses were picketed close at hand. But when Dick'a pony olattered up they all jumped to their feet, and Dick's blood all turued to ice when he realised that about six revolvers were Eointed at his own innocent and bewildered cad.

I suppose Dick's astonished face, as he halted in the light, made the men ashamed of their fear, for the six revolvers were lowered immediately, and one of the men, quite a young fellow, came up to Poncho with a laugh, and asked Dick to dismount.

They were a very wild-looking lot of men, and Dick, though he prided himself on knowing everybody about, did not recognise one of them. Still there was a very nice smell of prairie chicken grilling over the fire, and Diok was hungry, and the fire looked warm and comfortable. It was but two or three minutes when he was beside the fire, and a tin plate full of chicken and fried potatoes and some jolly hot coffee were beside him. In a very short time the hoy was chattering away in the most friendly manner, and telling them all about himself and his father, They listened very carefully. They even asked him questions, and made him talk more. Dick thought they were very nioe fellows indeed, and asked them all to come up and see him at the post. ' They gave him a very nice warm blanket, when he had eaten bo much chioken and drunk so muoh coffee he felt like going to Bleep, and they promised to set him on hia road home in the morning. Dick lay down with a sigh of content, not taking off his trousers, but just opening tbe top button, so as to allow the ohioken a chance to digest, but he couldn't sleep. Mingling with the wind among the graa»es and the murmur of the creek, the cowboys' voices, a few feet off, sounded in his ears, while the dying fire glimmered and glowed, and oast all kinds of queer shadows on the rocks and bluffs about the ravine. And, after Dick had listened to their whispering talk for a few minutes, all idea of sleeping he abruptly threw out of bis horror stricken mind. The man who had been kindest to him, the one who had given him all the best parts of the ohioken and shared his blankets, was calmly saying : " The kid, there, has given us it straight. He said his father, the paymaster, would pass through to-morrow to pay off the men. We can't do no better, boys. Are you all on it ? It's three thousand, at least." " But the soldiera are well armed," said another man. : "If there was an army of them it couldn't keep us from doing it at Oottonwood Bend. A I audden jump, and the. moneys ours. There's only room for the team to pass at tbe band. If we take them sudden— — " Dick's horror was too great for him. He sat up in tbe blankets and stared at the cowboys. The kind man saw him at once.

" Well, I'm blowed," he said with a laugh ; " I thought he was asleep, an' here's the kid a-listening to us." He stepped to where Dick was lying and roughly knooked him back to a sleeping posture. All hia politeness bad vanished. He quietly bound the boy's legs in spite of bis struggles, "So you didn't get to sleep after all, eh ? " he said. "It don't muoh matter anyhow. I've got to thank you for your information, little man. You heard what we said ? Well, you've got to stay with us until we've got your father's money. See? So make yourself comfortable and keep quiet." Then Dick realised that he bad fallen in with some desperate men, who were, thanks to his information, going to rob the paymaster, his own father.

" Oottonwood Bend ! "

Why, he knew it— and knew it well. He had once stopped there and heard tbe general commanding the department quote Maoaulay, and say that one man could hold that pass against an army. And these men could "hold tip " his father there easily. It was a nasty pass, and there were six men in the band of robbers.

Diok thought he was surely going orazy in the course of th&t long night. Tbe men did not take muoh notice of him after they had bound his legs, but he heard one ask the others what they had better do with him, and the boy trembled as he waited for the answer.

"He's got to stay with us till tbs thing's over," said another man. "He's a smart kid, and we don't want to hurt hi an. We'll send him back to his folks when we're clear away." Some time after that the man who had lent him the blankets came over and slipped in beside him. Dick shrank from him in horror, but tbe man only laughed and told him not to be afraid.

"You Bee, my little gentleman," he said, "me and my partners is dead broke, and we're bound* to have this money. It'll do us more good than the soldiers, and if your father, the paymaster, is wise he won't show fight. How many men will he have with him." '♦ Four, I think," said poor Dick. "It wouldn't matter if he had 20. If we oatoh him at the Bend they couldn't do anything muoh. But you won't come to any hurt, my boy, so cheer up." He was so kind that Diok timidly made a proposition. " I've got a watch," he whispered to_ the man, "and two dollars. I'm sorry it isn't more, but if you really need money very badly would you take them, and " The young man laughed so that Dick could not finish. Then he cuddled tho boy, and told him ha was a good littla chap, but two dollars and a silver watch wouldn't "go round," he said. Bat he did one good thing for Dick. He untied his legs, becausa ha said tbe boy was too innocent to do any harm, aayway. And then he dropped off to Bleep, (To I? continued.)