CHAPTER XII

THE ENCOUNTER

Jet was now traveling over a country with which he was not familiar, and to continue on would be to take great chances of losing his way, at least during the hours of darkness.

It was necessary, therefore, or at least he thought so, to get into that section of the woods over which he had previously journeyed.

To do this he was forced to make a half circle around the building, and as he ran, keeping at about the same distance from the house as he and Harvey had gained, the sounds of the conflict could be distinctly heard.

Judging from the noise, one would say at least half a dozen men were engaged, and Jet said to himself:

"The men from Albany are taking a hand in the row, probably firing from the windows. If they could wipe the whole gang out there wouldn't be any need for me to try to strike a telegraph office."

He could not afford to await the result of the contest, however, for if his friends were worsted just so much valuable time would be lost, and he pressed on at full speed until, when he was near the spot where he began his first journey, there was a rustling of the foliage in front of him as a voice cried:

"Hold up or I'll fire!"

That this threat was made by one of the gang from whom he was trying to escape there could be no question, and Jet darted aside quickly as he c.o.c.ked his revolver.

This had hardly been done when he saw a long tongue of flame leap out of the bushes at the right, not more than ten feet away, and a bullet whistled so near his ear that he could hear it shrieking like a minnie ball.

If he could wound one of these fellows matters would be just so much better for his friends, and jumping behind the trunk of a tree he fired every chamber of his revolver as rapidly as possible.

Not until the weapon was emptied did he start on his course again, shoving cartridges in the chambers as he ran, and followed by a volley of shots.

It was evident he had not done any damage, and once more he wheeled and fired.

There was no reply to this last fusillade, and he continued the flight, straining every muscle to outdistance the enemy in case an attempt should be made to follow him.

At the expiration of ten minutes he was forced to halt in order to regain his breath, and while standing panting and blowing behind a tree he listened for some token of the enemy.

Not a sound, save those made by himself, broke the silence of the forest, and there was every reason to believe he had for the second time given the fellows the slip.

But what about Harvey?

In fancy he saw him lying dead or dying within the shelter of the bushes, while the gang were making a desperate attack upon the house, and this thought nerved him to continue the flight before he had fairly recovered his wind.

The journey was a succession of brief halts and mad races, for every moment might be precious now, and he took no heed of fatigue, save when exhausted nature literally forced him so to do.

In less than half the time it had cost him to traverse the same distance when no one but himself was in danger, he accomplished the task, and stood on the platform of the station at which Harvey's party stopped the night previous.

The building was closed.

While he was rattling at the door in the vain hope that there might be a watchman inside, a resident of the town pa.s.sed.

"What's going on?" he asked in an unsteady voice which told quite plainly why he was away from home at such an hour.

"I want to send a very important telegram."

"Well send--hic--her if you wanter."

"Where is the operator?"

"At home, I reckon, if he ain't, that's where he oughter be this time in the morning."

"Do you know when he will be here?"

"'Bout midnight, if he counts on lookin' out for the express."

"Can you tell me what time it is now?"

It was rather a difficult matter for the tipsy party to get at his watch; but he was in an obliging mood, and after some trouble succeeded in clutching the timepiece.

"Come here an' see for yourself," he said, after trying in vain to make out the position of the hands. "I reckon I must have bought four or five watches by the looks of these, though I'm blest if I remember anything about it."

"You've only got one there," Jet said, as he gazed over the stranger's shoulder. "It lacks only ten minutes of being twelve o'clock; I shan't have long to wait."

"I'd stay with you if I didn't have to call upon a sick friend," the man replied after some difficulty, and then he staggered on, while Jet paced to and fro as if only by exercise could he control his impatience.

In less than five minutes he was joined by two men, or at least they came on the platform; but seemingly took care to prevent him from seeing their faces.

He could hear them talking in low, earnest tones; but was so engrossed by his own thoughts that he made no attempt to distinguish the words.

Finally the station agent, who was also the telegraph operator, arrived, and as he unlocked the door Jet asked eagerly, and sufficiently loud for the strangers to hear:

"Can I send a message to Albany?"

"Not now. Come to-morrow morning after eight o'clock."

"But this is very important and must go as soon as possible."

"I'll attend to you in the morning."

"It will be too late then," Jet cried, excitedly. "The chief of police must have the news at once!"

The operator looked at Jet scrutinizingly, and the two men stepped a few paces nearer.

"What's the matter?" the official asked.

"It is necessary detectives be sent here at once."

"Murder, or something of that kind, eh?"

"All I know is that I was sent by a man who said the telegram must go at the earliest possible moment."

"Very well, come in and write it. I'll see if the Albany office will answer my call."

Jet walked into the waiting-room so excited that he failed to notice the strangers, who crowded behind him; but stood where their faces would be in the shadow.