Shots from the dark

As the broncho boys swung through the streets of Soldier Butte, after leaving the ball, Ted Strong was in the lead, and Bud, Ben, Kit, and Clay were riding on either side of the carriage, while Jack Slate, with his black coat tails flapping in the breeze, brought up the rear.

They were passing an alley, at the corner of which an electric lamp shed a path of light across the street, when a revolver shot cracked out, and Ted’s hat left his head.

The ball had just grazed his scalp, and the merest fraction of an inch lower would have killed him.

Instantly every one pulled up, and Ted, wheeling suddenly, rode at full speed for the mouth of the alley.

As he did so another shot came from the alley.

Ted’s revolver was in his hand, and he fired at the spot where he had seen the flash from the muzzle of the assassin’s weapon.

He heard Mrs. Graham scream, and turned back to the side of the carriage only to find that one of the horses attached to it had been hit by the bullet, and was down, but that neither Stella nor Mrs. Graham had been injured, and he rode straight into the dark alley, followed by Bud and Kit, leaving Ben and the other boys to guard the carriage, for he did not know from what direction another attack might come.

The alley was as dark as a pocket, and as Ted rode into it he well knew that he was taking his life in his hands.

At the far end of the alley he heard the beat of feet running swiftly, and fired his revolver several times in that direction, and heard a yell of pain.

“Come on, fellows,” he called. “I think I got one of them that time.”

As he said this they saw two dark figures dart out of the alley into the street at the end opposite that at which the boys had entered, and they spurred in that direction.

But when they came to the street there was no one in sight, but splotches of blood on the sidewalk testified to the fact that a wound had been inflicted upon some one.

They rode up and down the block, but without discovering where their attackers had taken refuge.

It was a low part of the town, and there was scarcely a house on either side of the street into which a criminal would not be taken and concealed.

“We’ll have to give it up,” said Ted, at last. “We could hunt here all night without being any the wiser.”

Disappointed, they rode back, after tracing the bloodstains along the sidewalk to where they were lost in the dusty street.

They found that the carriage horse had been so badly hurt that its recovery was impossible, and Ted mercifully put a bullet into its brain.

The carriage was surrounded by people from the dance hall, who had been brought by the shots.

Among them was Billy Sudden.

“I reckon I called the turn,” said he, as Ted came up.

“You sure did,” said Ted.

“I ain’t presuming to give advice none,” said Billy, “but if it was me that got his sky piece knocked off and had a horse shot I believe I’d almost be tempted to round up this yere man’s town and capture every hoodlum in it, and sweat them to find out who fired them shots.”

“It wouldn’t do any good, Billy,” said Ted. “The people in this town have got it in for the ranch people. They think the ranches are taking trade away from them. They’d sooner see the ranches split into farms of forty acres each. They’d have so many more farmers to rob that way.”

“I reckon so. But what are you going to do? I want to tell you that me and my boys stand with you till the burning pit freezes over, whenever and wherever you need us.”

“May have to call on you one of these days, but not now.”

“Ain’t you going after that young imp, Creviss? Say, he’s the meanest boy I ever saw. If I was his father I’d make him behave, or I’d bust him wide open.”

“I understand his father thinks Wiley is just smart and spirited, and is ready to back him up in anything he does.”

“Ought to make the old man popular.”

“Not so you can see it. But that boy is a tough citizen, and getting tougher every day.”

“I’m hearing a good deal about that kid these days. He trains with a bunch of bad ones over at Strongburg.”

“For instance?”

“Lately he’s been running with ‘Skip’ Riley, a crook who has the reputation of having made more money out of holding up trains than by working.”

“I know his record. How long has he been there?”

“Several months. He came there from the Nebraska penitentiary, and he was smooth enough to work the reformed-criminal, first-offense racket on the women there until they finally got him a job in the fire department. He seems to be a hero in the eyes of a lot of tough young fellows here and in Strongburg, and they follow him in anything he suggests.”

“That’s not a healthy proposition for a boy. Mr. Riley ought to be conducted out of town.”

“The worst of it is he has banded them into some sort of secret organization.”

“What do they call it?”

“I did know, but I’ve plumb forgotten. There’s a young fellow uptown whom I’m trying to keep straight on account of his folks back East. I know his sister.” Ted could see Billy’s face get red as he said this. “His name is Jack Farley. Perhaps you know him.”

Ted shook his head.

“Well, he’s a good kid, but he got into bad company at home and skipped. I corresponded once in a while with his sister, and she wrote me about him, and one day I run across him in a gambling house here. I hadn’t seen him since he was a kid, but I knew him straight off because he looks so much like Kate Miss Farley I mean and I called him outside and had a talk with him. He was mighty uppy at first, and threw it into me so hard that I had to turn in and whale some sense into him.”

“That’s one way of doing it,” said Ted dryly.

“It was the only way for him. He thought he’d get sympathy by writing home about it, but all he got was that they reckoned he deserved it or he wouldn’t have got it. After that he was good. But he’d got in with that Creviss bunch and didn’t seem able to get out of it, so I let him stay, only I made him come to me every day or two and tell me what he’d been up to, and that’s as far as I’ve got.”

“Send him out to me.”

“He won’t work on a ranch, or I’d had him out at the Dumb-bell long ago. He likes to work in town, so I got him a job, and so far he has stuck to it. But the gang keeps him from doing any good for himself. He knows the name of this organization of boys under Skip, and the next time I see him I’ll find out what it is. Then you keep your eye peeled for it, for Creviss is one of the leaders, and I’m afraid, after to-night, he’ll do all he can to make things lively for you. He’s a mean, vindictive little cuss.”

“I’ll keep a weather eye out for him, never fear. Thank you for the tip. This is the first time I’ve heard of the bunch, I’ve been away from the ranch so much lately.”

The boys had hitched Jack Slate’s horse into the carriage, and he got on the seat with Carl, and they were ready to start.

With an “Adios” to Billy Sudden and his boys, they were off, and arrived at the ranch house without further incident.

Mrs. Graham and Stella had retired for the night, and the boys were sitting before the fire in the living room, for the night was chilly and Song had built up a good blaze against their return.

Naturally, the conversation drifted to the shots fired at them from the alley.

“While I wuz ambulatin’ eround ter-night I overheard some conversation what wuz interestin’,” remarked Bud, who was sprawling on a bearskin in front of the fire.

“What was it?” asked Ted, who had been turning over in his mind what Billy Sudden had told him of the organization of tough boys under the guidance of the ex-convict.

“I wuz standin’ clost ter one o’ ther winders what opens out onter ther alley when I hears two fellers talkin’ below me,” said Bud.

“What were they saying?”

“I wuzn’t aimin’ ter listen ter no one’s privut conversation, but I caught your name, an’ I tried ter hear what wuz said erbout yer.”

“Naturally.”

“One feller wuz talkin’ pritty loud, ez if he’d been hittin’ up ther tangle juice, an’ ther other feller wuz tryin’ ter make him put on ther soft pedal, what Clay calls talkin’ pianissimo. But when the booze is in ther wit is out, an’ ther feller would shut it down some fer a while, then he’d get a good lungful o’ air an’ bust out ergin.”

“What was it all about?”

“Erbout runnin’ us off’n ther reservation.”

“They’d have a fine chance to do that,” said Ted, laughing.

“It seems they hev some sort o’ a club, ther ‘Flyin’ somethin’ er other’ I couldn’t jest catch what. To hear them fellers talk they’re holy terrors.”

“How do they propose to run us off? Did you hear that?”

“No; they didn’t discuss ways an’ means, but they said as how ther boss, they mentioned his name, but it’s clear got erway from me, hed riz up on his hind legs an’ hed give it out straight to ther gang thet ez long ez we wuz in ther country they couldn’t do no good fer theirselfs, consequentially we must skidoo, ez they needed this part o’ ther country fer their own elbowroom. They wuz real sassy erbout it, too.”

“I suppose they thought all they had to do was to serve notice on us, and we’d vacate.”

“I reckon thet’s ther way they hed it chalked up.”

“Well, that bears out what Billy Sudden told me to-night after we were shot at.”

Then Ted related what Billy had told him about Skip Riley and his influence on the boys of Soldier Butte and Strongburg.

“Thet thar’s ther very feller they wuz talkin’ erbout, thet Skip Riley. Now I recolict it, an’ ther name o’ their sweet-scented aggergation is ther ‘Flyin’ Demons.’”

“Oh, mercy! Aren’t they just awful?” said Ben, with a grin. “But which way are they expected to fly, toward you or from you?”

“If they come monkeyin’ eround these broad acres they’ll be flyin’ fer home,” said Bud.

“Or to jail, if we can prove what I believe against them,” said Ted thoughtfully.

“What is that?” asked Kit.

“You haven’t forgotten the mysterious robbery of the Strongburg Trust Company’s office, have you?”

“Nope.”

“You remember that a great many people to this day disbelieve that the office was robbed at all, because everything was found locked and barred, and the most careful examination showed that no one could have broken into the room from which a box containing twenty thousand dollars in currency and a package of negotiable bonds was stolen.”

“Shore, I remember. That’s allays been ther greatest mystery in these parts.”

“You haven’t forgotten the robbery soon afterward of the Soldier Butte post office and the disappearance of the registered mail pouch that came in on the train at two o’clock in the morning. It was thrown into the inner office by the carrier, and the office securely locked. Yet in the morning it could not be found, and there was nothing to show that the post office had been entered.”

“I reckon I haven’t. We lost a bunch o’ money in it ourselves.”

“But we got it back.”

“That’s so, but the carrier is still in jail, awaitin’ trial fer stealin’ the sack, an’ I don’t believe he had any more ter do with it than I had.”

“And yet the most careful examination by the post-office inspectors failed to show that the place had been forcibly entered, and, although the carrier, Jim Bliss, had witnesses to show that he went into the post office with the sack, and came right out without it, still he is in jail, accused of stealing it,” said Kit.

“There are several other cases of mysterious robberies which I might cite, but those are enough,” said Ted. “But the curious thing about it all is that the robbers left not the slightest trace, not a broken lock, not a mark to show that a window was forced or a hole bored. When the place is closed up at night there is the money, when it is opened in the morning the money is gone. And again, these robberies only occur when valuables are accidentally left out of the vaults.”

“It is curious. Everything yer say is true, but I never thought erlong it ez much ez you, an’ I didn’t figger out how near they wuz alike.”

“Well, what’s your theory?” asked Ben. “You started to tell us.”

“Yes, who do you think committed these robberies?” asked Kit.

“Who but a gang of bad boys under the leadership and tutelage of a criminal?” answered Ted. “Who but the gang of Strongburg and Soldier Butte young toughs who go by the silly name of ‘The Flying Demons’? If they get gay around this ranch, we’ll have to tie a can to them and head them for the reform school or the penitentiary.”