The Boy Land Boomer/Chapter 8
CHAPTER VIII.
EXPOSING A SWINDLER.
It was less than an hour after separating from Dick Arbuckle that Pawnee Brown found his way to Arkansas City.
He was accompanied by Jack Rasco and Cal Clemmer, and the great scout's object was not alone to aid Dick in the search for Mortimer Arbuckle, but also to help Cal Clemmer get back some money out of which the cowboy boomer claimed he had been swindled.
Clemmer had played cards with a certain sharp known as Pete Stillwater, and lost two hundred and fifty dollars. At first he had imagined he had lost it fairly enough, but after thoughts, coupled with what he heard on the sly the next day, made him certain that Stillwater had cheated him.
He had brought his case to Pawnee Brown, and the leader of the boomers at once concluded that the gambler had not acted fairly. He had met Stillwater at Wichita, where the gambler's reputation was far from savory.
"You were a fool to bet at cards, Cal," he said flatly. "But that is no reason why Stillwater should cheat you. I'll do what I can, but you must promise to leave playing for high stakes alone in the future."
"Don't yer fear, Pawnee," was Clemmer's ready reply. "A scorched Injun keeps hez distance from the blaze, don't he? Wall, I'm the scorched Injun in this air case. Git back my money fer me an' I won't play nothin higher then penny-ante ez long ez I live."
The gambling resort at which Stillwater was holding forth was soon reached, and the three entered, to find the place comfortably crowded by boomers, men-about-town, cowboys and gamblers, all anxious to add to their wealth without working. As Pawnee Brown surveyed the assemblage his lip curled with a sarcasm which was by no means displaced.
"Poor fools!" he thought; "they expect to win, and nine-tenths of them are bound in the end to be fleeced out of all they possess. Why men who have brains will throw away good money in this fashion is more than I can understand."
"Thar's Stillwater," whispered Cal Clemmer. "Hang hez hide, I'd like ter wring hez neck fer him."
"Better wring his money bag first," smiled Pawnee Brown.
Without hesitation he called Stillwater outside and explained the situation.
"You can say what you please, Stillwater," he said. "I am certain you have been cheating, for I know your past record. You must restore that money and do it right away."
A stormy war of words followed, but Pawnee Brown was firm and at last Stillwater gave up about a hundred dollars—all he had with him.
He went off vowing vengeance and when at a safe distance turned and drew a pistol from his pocket.
"He's going to shoot ye!" cried one of the boomers, but Stillwater was afraid to fire. As Pawnee Brown started after him on a run the gambler fled toward the river.
"Let us go after him!" cried one of the others, and away they went. Soon they came in sight of the river and saw Stillwater in a small craft, sculling his way to the opposite shore. Presently a bend in the stream hid him from view.
"Hullo!" sang out Pawnee Brown. "Here comes another rowboat, and—yes, there is Dick Arbuckle in it. What can he be doing on the river?"
"The boat is makin' fer thet half-sunk tree!" interrupted Cal Clemmer. "He'll strike ef he don't look out! Heavens!"
"Look out there, youngster!" yelled Pawnee Brown, and those were the words which attracted Dick's attention, as mentioned in the former chapter.
It was useless to say more. Standing upon the bank, Pawnee Brown and the cowboy boomer saw the craft strike and go to pieces and saw Dick thrown out into the madly rushing current.
As the boy sped along his head came into painful contact with the furthest of the tree branches, and he was partially stunned. His eyes closed and he struck out wildly and ineffectually.
"He'll be drowned!" gasped Clemmer. "It would take a strong swimmer to gain the bank with the water runnin' ez it is today."
"I don't believe he could catch a rope," answered Pawnee Brown, starting off down the river bank. "Cal, hunt one up somewhere; I'm going in after him!"
"But the risk"
"Never mind the risk. Get the rope if you can," and away went the scout again.
"Help!" came faintly from Dick. He was dazed and weak, and could hardly see in what direction the shore really was.
"Keep up, boy, and we'll save you!" shouted Pawnee Brown encouragingly.
Reaching a spot twenty or thirty feet below where Dick was drifting, he threw off his hat and coat and leaped into the stream.
Down he went over his head, to come up a second later and strike out powerfully for the youth. The cold water chilled him, but to this he paid no attention. He had taken a fancy to Dick, and was resolved to save the boy at any cost.
Nearer and nearer he came. It was a tough struggle, for in the bend of the swollen stream the water boiled and foamed upon all sides. He was yet ten feet away from Dick, when he saw the youth sink beneath the surface.
"Gone!" he thought, and made a leap and a dive. His outstretched hand came in contact with Dick's left arm, and he dragged his burden upward.
"Keep cool, Dick," he said when he could speak. "Can't you swim?"
"Yes, but not extra well," panted the half-drowned lad. "I struck my head upon something."
"Then lay hold of my shoulder and I'll keep you up. Steady, now, or the current will send us around like two tops."
No more was said, as both felt they must save their breath. With Dick clinging loosely, so as not to hinder his swimming, Pawnee Brown struck out for the shore.
It was perilous work, for other trees and obstructions were upon every hand, and more than once both were torn and scratched as they sped by in what was little short of a whirlpool.
"Catch the rope!" suddenly came from Clemmer, and a noose whizzed in the air and fell close beside the pair. Both Pawnee Brown and Dick did as requested, and the cowboy boomer began to haul in with all the strength at his command. It was hard work, but Clemmer was equal to it, and presently those in the water came close enough to gain a footing, and then the peril was over.
Dick's story was soon told, to which the great scout added that of his own.
"I shall not attempt to follow up Stillwater," Pawnee Brown concluded. "It is high time I got back to camp, for let me tell you, privately, we move westward to day. You may continue the hunt for your father or come with me, just as you choose. It is possible you may find some trace of him around here, but it is doubtful to me, after such a storm. It's hard lines, boy, but cheer up; things may not be as bad as you imagine," and he laid a dripping but affectionate arm upon Dick's shoulder.
"I will stay here for a while, at least," answered Dick. "But—but I am without a cent, and"
"How much do you want, Dick?" and Pawnee Brown's pocketbook came out without delay.
"If you will lend me ten dollars"
"Here are twenty. When you want more let me know. Now, goodbye, and good luck to you."
And the next minute Pawnee Brown and Clemmer were gone. Dick watched them out of sight and a warm feeling went over his heart.
"The major is as generous as he is brave," he murmured. "He is one scout of a thousand. No wonder all the boomers asked him to lead them in this expedition."
Ten minutes later Dick was drying himself at the fire in a house near by. Hearing his tale of misfortune, the man who took him in insisted upon treating him to some hot coffee, which did a good bit toward making him feel once more like himself.
"It may be a wild-goose chase, but I can't give it up," he muttered as he continued his search by walking along the river bank. "Poor father, where can he be?"
The outskirts of the city had been left behind and he was making his way through a tangle of brush and over shelving rocks. A bend was passed and he gave a wild cry. And small wonder.
There on the river bank lay the motionless form of his parent, dripping yet with the water of the river. The eyes were closed as if in death. With a moan Dick threw himself forward and caught one of the cold hands within his own. Then he placed his ear to his parent's heart.
"Too late! He is gone!" he wailed. "Poor, poor father, dead after all! Oh, if only I had died with you!" and he sank back utterly overcome.