John Fitzgerald (13 page)

   
Uncle Mark was with Papa in the parlor and
he looked both worried and angry. "I'm putting two men in back and two in
front
," he said. "And this time I'm giving them
strict orders not to leave. I've got men covering the Judge's and District
Attorney's homes."

"Then it is
all right if I go with you," Papa said.

   
"Your family will be safe enough
now," Uncle Mark said. "I believe Cal Roberts left four men to create
a diversion while he and Austin carried out the murders. Those four men can
hold off an army coming down Main Street. And there is no way to get at them
from the rear because it is open country. Anyone trying it would make a wide
open target and be cut down. The plan as I see it was for Roberts and Austin to
commit the murders and then circle the town and join up with the others. They
would then all ride out to the east. I'd need a troop of cavalry to stop them,
especially at night."

   
"The men left to create the diversion will
know something is wrong when Roberts and Austin don't return," Papa said.

   
Uncle Mark's face became thoughtful for a
moment. "You've given me an idea," he said. "If I ride Roberts'
pinto horse and Hal Benson rides Austin's gray horse the outlaws will recognize
the horses. Hal can wear the hat and jacket Austin had on when killed. I've got
a black hat and buckskin jacket at home like Roberts was wearing. If Hal and I
keep our heads down, the outlaws will think we are Roberts and Austin. This
will give us a chance to take them from the rear and catch them in a cross
fire."

   
"What if Roberts has circled the town
on foot and joined his gang?" Papa asked. "You and Hal are certain to
be killed."

   
"It is a risk we will have to
take," Uncle Mark said, "but a small risk. If Roberts did join his
gang, he would leave with them immediately, stealing a horse from the livery
stable. There would be no sense in remaining after his plan failed."

   
Papa left the house with Uncle Mark. Mamma
made Frankie and me go to bed. I could still hear shooting when I fell asleep.

   
The next morning Frankie and I put on our
robes and ran downstairs to the kitchen. Papa was drinking coffee. He looked
tired, as if he's been up all night.

"What
happened?" I shouted.

"Your Uncle
Mark's plan worked," Papa said. "Three of the outlaws are dead and
one seriously wounded. But Cal Roberts escaped."

   
I felt the hair on my head get stiff as a
hairbrush. "That means he will organize another gang and come back
again," I said.

   
"We don't know if he managed to steal
a horse last night and leave town or not," Papa said. "We will know
in a few hours."

"How?"
I asked.

   
"Mark and the deputies are checking
everybody in town who owns horses," Papa answered.

   
"What about
Dusty?"
I asked, remembering Brownie's alarm bark of the night
before.

   
"I've looked in the barn," Papa
said. "Dusty and our team are there."

"What if no
horse is found missing?" I asked.

   
"It could mean any one of several
things," Papa said. "Cal Roberts knows this country well. He might
have made it on foot to a nearby farm or ranch and stolen a horse last night.
He might have made it on foot out of town and stolen a horse from some lone
rider coming into town. However, there is also the possibility that Cal Roberts
might still be hiding out right in town. Mark and the deputies will search
every barn and shack that a man might possibly use for a hideout. If Cal
Roberts isn't located in
Adenville
, the search will
continue in the ghost town of
Silverlode
. A man could
easily hide in all those old mine tunnels."

   
"Boy, oh, boy," I said. "I'm
glad today is Saturday and no school. I'd hate to miss out on all the
excitement. The first thing I want to see is where the desperadoes met their
death at the livery stable and blacksmith shop."

   
"I'm afraid you are due for a
disappointment," Papa said. "Your Uncle Mark has given orders that
all persons under sixteen years of age are to remain in their own homes until
the search is over. He doesn't want to have a couple hundred kids under foot
during the search."

   
Papa was sure right. I'd never been so
disappointed in my life.

   
Mamma was helping Aunt Bertha get breakfast
ready. "You and Frankie wash up and get dressed now," she said.

   
The deputies guarding our house had left by
the time Frankie and I finished eating breakfast. I did the morning chores with
Frankie helping me. Every time I went into the barn, Brownie began barking his
alarm bark. I figured he was still just excited from hearing all the shooting
the night before. I couldn't leave our backyard, so I played with Frankie and
Brownie and Prince until Mamma called that lunch was ready.

   
Papa told us during lunch that nobody in
Adenville
was missing a horse. Uncle Mark and a hundred men
had begun searching every barn and shack in town. They had started on the east
side of town and were working their way westward. After lunch Papa went back to
the Advocate office to begin setting type for the news story about the Cal
Roberts gang so it would be ready for Tuesday's weekly edition of the
newspaper.

   
I went into our backyard with Frankie. I
was surprised to see Howard Kay come down the alley and into our backyard.

"Weren't you
told to stay home?" I asked.

   
"Sure," he said as he sat down
beside me on the back porch steps. "But Ma is talking to Mrs. Smith over
the back fence and they will be jawing for at least an hour. I knew that with
your uncle being the marshal you'd know all about what happened last
night."

   
It turned out that Howard didn't know beans
about what had happened. I knew a lot of things he didn't know. I got so
interested in telling him all about it that I didn't miss Frankie until Howard
left about an hour later. I went looking for Frankie. He wasn't in the woodshed
or icehouse or corral. Brownie was sitting by the barn door. When he began
barking, I knew Frankie must be in the barn.

   
The first thing I noticed when I entered
the barn was that the rope ladder had been pulled up into the loft.

   
"I know you are up there,
Frankie," I called. "Throw down the ladder so I can come up."

   
The rope ladder
came
tumbling down. I climbed up, telling myself I had a right to be angry with
Frankie. He was too little to be climbing up and down the rope ladder. If he had
hurt himself it would be my fault for not keeping an eye on him. I forgot all
about it when my head came up to where I could see into the loft. I became so
frightened I almost lost my hold and fell.

   
Frankie was in the loft, all right, but not
alone. He had a gag in his mouth made from a red bandana handkerchief. His
hands were tied behind his back and his legs were trussed up with some pieces
of rope Tom had left in the loft.

   
A man with a blond mustache and a scar on
his cheek was holding a bowie knife about an inch from Frankie's throat. The
left
shoulder of his shirt and buckskin jacket were
red with blood. His right pant leg was torn and bloody. I knew I was looking at
Cal Roberts.

   
"Just keep
comin
',
boy," he said, "unless you want me to slit this kid's throat."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Hostage

I CLIMBED INTO
THE LOFT. My knees were so wobbly I couldn't stand up. I just remained on all
fours staring at the outlaw.

   
"Know who I am, boy?" he asked as
he put the bowie knife back in a scabbard on his belt.

   
"You are Cal Roberts," I said.
"The man who swore he would kill my father."

   
"I came here
fixin
'
to do just that last night while the Marshal was busy at the Judge's
house," Roberts said. "But I saw the shine of a rifle barrel on your
back porch, and I reckoned as how the deputy
guardin
'
your house hadn't been fooled by the ruckus my boys were
makin
'
on the other side of town. So I figured I'd steal a horse, but that damn dog
bit my leg when I tried. I knew if I shot the dog it would attract the
attention of the deputy."

   
I knew Cal Roberts had seen Papa on the
back porch but hadn't recognized him in the darkness.

   
"My father was only doing his duty as
a citizen serving on the jury," I said. "Why do you want to kill him
for that?"

   
"If I just wanted to kill your
pa," he said, "I could have killed him this morning when he came into
the barn. But I knew the sound of the shot would attract attention and I'd
never make it out of town. Anyway, when I saw this rope ladder last night it
gave me an idea. I knew kids must use it and it was a good way for me to get a
hostage."

   
"Please let Frankie go and make me
your hostage," I pleaded.

   
"Nope," he said. "I need an
older kid like you to take messages for me. Now you tell your pa and the
Marshal I
ain't
makin
' the
same mistake I made with the Judge. I'm
holdin
' this
kid as a hostage and if they try to flush me out of this barn I'll kill the kid
first. You got that, boy?"

"Yes,
sir," I answered.

   
"Next you tell them how I'm
goin
' to leave town," the outlaw said. "I'm
ridin
' out of here on that mustang you've got. And I'm
goin
' to be
holdin
' this kid on
the saddle in front of me. And I'll be holding my cocked .45 against the back
of this kid's head. I've got a hair trigger on my gun. Even if somebody shot me
in the back or head, the hair trigger would blow this kid's brains out. The
Marshal knows that is what would happen. You got that, boy?"

   
"Yes, sir," I said weakly,
feeling a cold sweat break out all over my body. Papa was right. Cal Roberts
was a low-down enough skunk to kill a little kid.

   
"The first thing I want is a doc to
fix this arm," the outlaw said. "I got winged at the Judge's house
last night. Then I want some vittles to eat and water to drink. And if anybody
but you and the doc come into this barn, I'll shoot them first and then the
kid. And you tell your pa that
seein
' as how I
ain't
goin
' to kill him, I want
one thousand dollars."

"But the
bank is closed," I protested.

"Let them
open it," he said.

   
"They can't open the vault until
Monday morning," I said. "Mr. Whitlock put a time lock on it after
the bank was robbed."

   
"That will give my shoulder an extra
day to heal," Cal Roberts said. "I
ain't
in
no
hurry now I've got myself a hostage."

   
Just then we heard several dogs barking and
the sound of men's voices.

"What's
goin
' on?" Roberts demanded.

   
"They are searching all the buildings
in town looking for you," I answered.

   
Roberts removed his bowie knife from the
scabbard and held it an inch from Frankie's throat. "You know what to tell
them when they come in here," he said.

   
I put my head over the side of the loft. In
a few minutes Jerry Stout came into the barn carrying a shotgun, and right
behind him was Don Huddle with a rifle.

"There is
nobody up here but me," I shouted.

They looked up at
me.

"All right,
John," Mr. Stout said.

   
I watched them look in the manger and
behind bales of hay and every place a man might hide.

   
"I think this is a waste of
time," Mr. Stout said. "Cal Roberts is long gone from this
town."

   
"Only one way to make
sure," Mr. Huddle said, "and
that is to do exactly
what we are doing."

Then the two men
left the barn.

   
Roberts put his bowie knife back. "Get
goin
', boy," he ordered.
"The
doc first and then something to eat and drink.
And if anything goes
wrong, this kid gets his throat cut."