CHAPTER XXV
WHAT HAPPENED AT THE LOG CABIN
“My dad hurt!”
The cry came simultaneously from Andy and Randy.
“What happened to him?” questioned Fred and Jack.
“His horse stumbled on the down trail and threw Mr. Rover over his head,” answered the man. “I don’t know but he may have his skull cracked. Some miners picked him up and took him to Longnose’s shack.”
“You mean the Indian called Longnose?” queried Randy, for the boys had heard of such an individual living along Sunset Trail. He was an old man and quite a notorious character, and the lads had thought that some time they might visit him.
“That’s the fellow. They put Mr. Rover to bed and sent one of the men off for a doctor. He was unconscious for a while, but then he began to call out for his sons and for Jack and Fred. One of the men knew about you being in this vicinity and said you were stopping with Cal Corning. So then I rode over to Corning’s place. He wasn’t home, but the women folks there told me that you were on a camping trip and that I could find you either at Dogberry Lake or Gansen Lake. I rode over to Dogberry first, and then I came here. My name is Nick Ocker. I’m from Allways.”
“Will you take us over to my dad?” questioned Andy.
“Sure, I will. I told the other fellows that I’d come back with you. They thought if they couldn’t get the doctor they might get some sort of a wagon and move Mr. Rover over to Allways. He’s west of here, and it would be easier traveling that way than this. The road is better going. Besides that, we’ve got two doctors over there, and one of them, Doc Hendershot, runs a kind of hospital.”
The sad news that the twins’ father had been seriously hurt worried the boys greatly. The twins were the most affected and so worked up they could scarcely prepare themselves for the trip.
“Oh, Jack! suppose he dies?” burst out Andy frantically.
“Oh, it may not be so bad, Andy,” said the young major soothingly. “First reports are often ten times worse than they ought to be.”
“But if he’s got a fractured skull——” put in Randy, and then choked up so he could not go on.
The boys could think of but one thing, and that was to get to Tom Rover’s side as quickly as possible. Kicking the campfire into the lake so that the blaze might do no damage during their absence, they ran for their horses and were soon mounted. In their hurry to get away they forgot almost everything else, although just before leaping into the saddle Fred grabbed up one of the pistols and Jack the other.
The horse on which Nick Ocker was mounted showed signs of having been ridden a considerable distance. Yet he got over Sunset Trail at a fairly good rate of speed, although to the boys, anxious to get to Tom Rover’s side, it seemed almost a snail’s pace.
“If we were only sure where this Longnose’s cabin was located we could go ahead,” said Randy.
“That’s right,” breathed his brother, clattering along beside his twin over the rocky trail. “Gee, if only we had an auto and could use it!”
“If dad is seriously hurt what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. I suppose it will depend on circumstances. It’s too bad there isn’t some city near by where we could get a first-class doctor and maybe put dad in a real hospital. That’s most likely what he’ll need.”
Up one foothill and down another passed the Rover boys and their guide. Then Sunset Trail made a sharp turn and they found themselves climbing the mountainside. Here the going was exceedingly rough, and they had to ride with care. Then they reached the top of the rise and went downward, still hugging the mountainside.
“I reckon it was somewhere along here that the other fellows picked Mr. Rover up,” observed Nick Ocker as they clattered along, occasionally sending a loose stone down into the rocky valley below them. “It’s a mighty bad place to get a tumble, if you want to know it.”
“Did he break any bones, do you know?” questioned Fred.
“It seemed to me one of his wrists acted that way,” answered Ocker. “It was very limp and swollen. But, of course, Mr. Rover was hurt too badly around the head to tell anything about it. He’s got a bad bruise on his left shoulder too. I don’t like to alarm you boys, but I think he’ll be mighty lucky if he pulls out of it.”
“How far have we to go now?” questioned Randy. He had asked the same question several times before.
“Not more than half a mile,” was the reply of the guide.
Nick Ocker was not a prepossessing individual when it came to looks. He was tall, gaunt, and had several scars on the side of his face and on his neck. He had bulging black eyes that seemed at times to almost pop out of his head, and a crop of black hair that was almost as stiff as a brush. He was rather poorly dressed, showing that he was most likely down on his luck.
But just now the boys paid little attention to their guide except to follow him on the trail. Their thoughts were centered upon their relative who had been hurt. In what condition would they find him? Was he still alive?
Presently they reached a split in the roadway. Sunset Trail continued westward and a smaller trail headed along the mountainside to the north.
“There is Longnose’s cabin!” exclaimed Nick Ocker, pointing ahead. “And there is one of the fellows waving to us to come on.”
The place he pointed out was an old and dilapidated log cabin built, evidently, by some prospector years ago. It stood in the shadow of a clump of fir trees and on one side was an immense rock resting precariously close to the edge of a sharp cliff.
“Are those the Rover boys?” sang out the man in front of the cabin, as the party came up.
“Yes,” answered Nick Ocker. “How is Mr. Rover?”
“Not so well,” was the reply. “He’s been asking for his two sons and the others right along. But listen,” went on the man. “You chaps want to go in there cautiously. The doctor was here and said Mr. Rover was not to be excited.”
Hastily dismounting, the four boys entered the log cabin, and as they did so the two men outside led the horses away. Then several other men appeared, each with his soft hat pulled far down over his forehead.
“Make it short and snappy,” said one of the men to all of the others. “Don’t take any chances. If you give ’em any rope they’ll fight like wildcats.”
“I’m all ready,” answered one of the other men. He was carrying a number of ropes.
One after another the boys entered the log cabin. It was rather dark inside, and for several seconds they could see little or nothing. Then they saw a bunk on the far side of the room and on it rested a form partly covered with a blanket. The head of the form was swathed in bandages. With their hearts in their throats Andy and Randy approached what they thought was the form of their father, and Fred and Jack followed. Then, as they were bending over the form in the bunk, they heard hasty footsteps behind them. The next instant each of them found his arms pinned behind him.
“Take it easy now! Take it easy or you’ll be sorry for it!” cried one of the men in a hard voice.
“If you try to fight you’ll get the worst licking you ever had in all your life,” added another of the men.
“Wha-what does this mean?” stammered Randy. The sudden turn of affairs completely bewildered him.
“Dad! Dad!” came from Andy, who in a flash thought his father might be the victim of foul play at the hands of the men who were now attacking them.
“Keep quiet there—keep quiet!” ordered one of the men who was holding Jack.
But the young major had no intention of submitting calmly to the unexpected attack that had been made on him and his cousins. Like a lightning flash it came to him that they were the victims of a trap, and his astonishment was increased when he saw that the man who was holding him was Carson Davenport!
“I told you I’d get you some day, you rat!” cried Davenport between his set teeth. “I’ve waited a long time, but now I’ve got you!” and still holding Jack he did his best to bind the young major’s hands behind him.
In the meanwhile the other boys were struggling with might and main to get away from the rascals who were holding them. Half a dozen blows were struck, and poor Fred was dragged outside by two of the men and tightly bound, hands and feet. Andy presently followed, and then the whole gang of men set upon Randy and Jack. They continued to fight until each received a blow on the head that all but stunned him. Then they, too, were roped up.
In the mêlée in the cabin Randy and his assailant had lunged against the bunk where the figure supposed to be that of Tom Rover rested. In the mix-up the figure fell out on the floor and proved to be nothing but a crudely made dummy.
When the boys recovered somewhat from the effects of the unexpected attack they were surprised to find themselves confronted, not only by Carson Davenport, but also by Tate and Jackson, Davenport’s cronies in the oil fields. The other two men were a fellow named Digby and the guide who had brought them to the ill-fated spot.
“Well, that trick worked to perfection,” said Davenport, as he eyed the four prisoners with satisfaction. “Now then, Ocker, tell us just how you worked it.”
Thereupon Ocker related how he had gone directly to Gansen Lake and told his faked story of Tom Rover’s mishap. He had not been near Cal Corning’s home, for the reason that the crowd had already information regarding the movements of the younger Rovers.
“I think the best thing you can do, Ocker, is to go back to that camp and bring all of the duffel up here. Take Digby with you. Make it look as if the boys had been there and then moved on to some other place. That will set Tom Rover to guessing and give us a chance to make a clean get-away.”
“Now you’ve captured us, what do you intend to do with us?” questioned Jack. The blood was flowing down one of his cheeks, but he had no means of wiping it away.
“You’ll find out a little later,” answered Davenport.
“You kids are responsible for our dropping a lot of money down in the oil fields,” came from Jackson, with a sour look at the Rovers. “We calculate to get some of that money back.”
“Nothing happened to you but what you deserved,” retorted Fred.
“That’s your way of looking at it. We think differently,” growled Tate, and then he added: “We might as well be on the way. Longnose will be back here to-night most likely, and we’ll want to clean up before he comes.”
Bound as they were, the boys were helpless. One after another they were lashed fast to their horses and then the men brought forth their own steeds. The log cabin was put in order, the door closed, and the whole party rode off, Jackson in advance and Davenport bringing up the rear. Between them rode the four boys and Tate. All of the men carried guns, and Davenport had the pistol taken from Jack while Tate carried the one Fred had brought along.
“Well, I’m mighty glad of one thing,” said Randy to his twin, as they rode along a narrow trail leading into the mountains. “I’m glad that figure in the bunk was a dummy and not dad.”
“That’s right,” answered his brother quickly. “Gee! when I think of that story being a fake I’m almost satisfied to be a prisoner.”
“I wonder if we can’t ride away from them,” whispered the other.
“What! with all of them carrying guns? I’m afraid not. They could easily shoot our horses, even if they didn’t want to shoot us.”
The boys, bruised and bleeding from the atrocious attack made upon them, thought the ride along the mountainside would never come to an end. The horses had to proceed with care, for the rocky trail was full of perils, and before the ride came to an end Fred was so dizzy and weak he could hardly see. Randy’s back hurt him, and he would have given almost anything just to lie down.
Presently they reached a place where the underbrush among the trees was heavy. Here the whole party came to a halt and the men dismounted. One after another the boys were unlashed and the ropes binding their feet were released. Then, somewhat to their surprise, they were led into a long, low cave shaped somewhat like a dumb-bell with a narrow opening in the center. At this opening some rough timbers had been placed, held securely by several chains. At one side one of the timbers could be pushed away, forming something of a door.
“Now then, in you go!” cried Davenport, and one after another the lads were thrust into the back section of the cavern. Then the log door was pushed again into position and chained, and the four Rover boys found themselves prisoners in the cave.