In the Midst of Alarms by Robert Barr (interesting novels in english .TXT) 📖

going to be left in the lurch, anyhow."

"Perhaps. But it won't be sold by me. I'll burn my copy before I will let you have a glimpse of it. That don't need to interfere with your making me an offer of a better position when we get back to New York; but while my paper depends on me, I won't go back on it."

"Just as you please, Jimmy. Perhaps I would do the same myself. I always was weak where the interests of the _Argus_ were concerned. You haven't any blank paper you could lend me, Jimmy?"

"I have, but I won't lend it."

Yates took out his pencil, and pulled down his cuff.

"Now, Mac," he said, "tell me all you saw of this fight."

The blacksmith talked, and Yates listened, putting now and then a mark on his cuff. Sandy spoke occasionally, but it was mostly to tell of sledge-hammer feats or to corroborate something the boss said. One after another Yates interviewed the prisoners, and gathered together all the materials for that excellent full-page account "by an eyewitness" that afterward appeared in the columns of the _Argus_. He had a wonderful memory, and simply jotted down figures with which he did not care to burden his mind. Hawkins laughed derisively now and then at the facts they were giving Yates, but the _Argus_ man said nothing, merely setting down in shorthand some notes of the information Hawkins sneered at, which Yates considered was more than likely accurate and important. When he had got all he wanted, he rose.

"Shall I send you help, Mac?" he asked.

"No," said the smith; "I think I'll take these fellows to the shop, and hold them there till called for. You can't vouch for Hawkins, then, Mr. Yates?"

"Good Heavens, no! I look on him as the most dangerous of the lot. These half-educated criminals, who have no conscientious scruples, always seem to me a greater menace to society than their more ignorant co-conspirators. Well, good-by, Jimmy. I think you'll enjoy life down at Mac's shop. It's the best place I've struck since I've been in the district. Give my love to all the boys, when they come to gaze at you. I'll make careful inquiries into your opinions, and as soon as I am convinced that you can be set free with safety to the community I'll drop in on you and do all I can. Meanwhile, so long."

Yates' one desire now was to reach a telegraph office, and write his article as it was being clicked off on the machine. He had his fears about the speed of a country operator, but he dared not risk trying to get through to Buffalo in the then excited state of the country. He quickly made up his mind to go to the Bartlett place, borrow a horse, if the Fenians had not permanently made off with them all, and ride as rapidly as he could for the nearest telegraph office. He soon reached the edge of the woods, and made his way across the fields to the house. He found young Bartlett at the barn.

"Any news of the horses yet?" was the first question he asked.

"No," said young Bartlett gloomily; "guess they've rode away with them."

"Well, I must get a horse from somewhere to ride to the telegraph office. Where is the likeliest place to find one?"

"I don't know where you can get one, unless you steal the telegraph boy's nag; it's in the stable now, having a feed."

"What telegraph boy?"

"Oh, didn't you see him? He went out to the tent to look for you, and I thought he had found you."

"No, I haven't been at the tent for ever so long. Perhaps he has some news for me. I'm going to the house to write, so send him in as soon as he gets back. Be sure you don't let him get away before I see him."

"I'll lock the stable," said young Bartlett, "and then he won't get the horse, at any rate."

Yates found Kitty in the kitchen, and he looked so flurried that the girl cried anxiously:

"Are they after you again, Mr. Yates?"

"No, Kitty; I'm after them. Say, I want all the blank paper you have in the house. Anything will do, so long as it will hold a lead-pencil mark."

"A copy book--such as the children use in school?"

"Just the thing."

In less than a minute the energetic girl had all the materials he required ready for him in the front room. Yates threw off his coat, and went to work as if he were in his own den in the _Argus_ building.

"This is a ---- of a vacation," he muttered to himself, as he drove his pencil at lightning speed over the surface of the paper. He took no note of the time until he had finished; then he roused himself and sprang to his feet.

"What in thunder has become of that telegraph boy?" he cried. "Well, it doesn't matter; I'll take the horse without his permission."

He gathered up his sheets, and rushed for the kitchen. He was somewhat surprised to see the boy sitting there, gorging himself with the good things which that kitchen always afforded.

"Hello, youngster! how long have you been here?"

"I wouldn't let him go in to disturb you while you were writing," said Kitty, the boy's mouth being too full to permit of a reply.

"Ah, that was right. Now, sonny, gulp that down and come in here; I want to talk to you for a minute."

The boy followed him into the front room.

"Well, my son, I want to borrow your horse for the rest of the day."

"You can't have it," said the boy promptly.

"Can't have it? I must have it. Why, I'll take it. You don't imagine you can stop me, do you?"

The boy drew himself up, and folded his arms across his breast.

"What do you want with the horse, Mr. Yates?" he asked.

"I want to get to the nearest telegraph office. I'll pay you well for it."

"And what am I here for?"

"Why, to eat, of course. They'll feed you high while you wait."

"Canadian telegraph office?"

"Certainly."

"It's no good, Mr. Yates. Them Canadians couldn't telegraph all you've written in two weeks. I know 'em," said the boy with infinite scorn. "Besides, the Government has got hold of all the wires, and you can't get a private message through till it gets over its fright."

"By George!" cried Yates, taken aback, "I hadn't thought of that. Are you sure, boy?"

"Dead certain."

"Then what's to be done? I must get through to Buffalo."

"You can't. United States troops won't let you. They're stopping everybody--except me," he added, drawing himself up, as if he were the one individual who stood in with the United States Government.

"Can you get this dispatch through?"

"You bet! That's why I came back. I knew, as soon as I looked at you, that you would write two or three columns of telegraph; and your paper said 'Spare no expense,' you remember. So says I to myself: 'I'll help Mr. Yates to spare no expense. I'll get fifty dollars from that young man, seeing I'm the only person who can get across in time.'"

"You were mighty sure of it, weren't you?"

"You just bet I was. Now, the horse is fed and ready, I'm fed and ready, and we're losing valuable time waiting for that fifty dollars."

"Suppose you meet another newspaper man who wants to get his dispatch through to another paper, what will you do?"

"Charge him the same as I do you. If I meet two other newspaper men, that will be one hundred and fifty dollars; but if you want to make sure that I won't meet any more newspaper men, let us call it one hundred dollars, and I'll take the risk of the odd fifty for the ready cash; then if I meet a dozen newspaper men, I'll tell them I'm a telegraph boy on a vacation."

"Quite so. I think you will be able to take care of yourself in a cold and callous world. Now, look here, young man; I'll trust you if you'll trust me. I'm not a traveling mint, you know. Besides, I pay by results. If you don't get this dispatch through, you don't get anything. I'll give you an order for a hundred dollars, and as soon as I get to Buffalo I'll pay you the cash. I'll have to draw on the _Argus_ when I get to Buffalo; if my article has appeared, you get your cash; if it hasn't, you're out. See?"

"Yes, I see. It won't do, Mr. Yates."

"Why won't it do?"

"Because I say it won't. This is a cash transaction. Money down, or you don't get the goods. I'll get it through all right, but if I just miss, I'm not going to lose the money."

"Very well, I'll take it to the Canadian telegraph office."

"All right, Mr. Yates. I'm disappointed in you. I thought you were some good. You aint got no sense, but I wish you luck. When I was at your tent, there was a man with a hammer taking a lot of men out of the woods. When one of them sees my uniform, he sings out he'd give me twenty-five dollars to take his stuff. I said I'd see him later, and I will. Good-by, Mr. Yates."

"Hold on, there! You're a young villain. You'll end in state's prison yet, but here's your money. Now, you ride like a house a-fire."

After watching the departing boy until he was out of sight Yates, with a feeling of relief, started back to the tent. He was worried about the interview the boy had had with Hawkins, and he wondered, now that it was too late, whether, after all, he had not Hawkins' manuscript in his pocket. He wished he had searched him. That trouble, however, did not prevent him from sleeping like the dead the moment he lay down in the tent.


CHAPTER XIX.

The result of the struggle was similar in effect to an American railway accident of the first class. One officer and five privates were killed on the Canadian side, one man was missing, and many were wounded. The number of the Fenians killed will probably never be known. Several were buried on the field of battle, others were taken back by O'Neill's brigade when they retreated.

Although the engagement ended as Yates had predicted, yet he was wrong in his estimate of the Canadians. Volunteers are invariably underrated by men of experience in military matters. The boys fought well, even when they saw their ensign fall dead before them. If the affair had been left entirely in their hands, the result might have been different--as was shown afterward, when the volunteers, unimpeded by regulars, quickly put down a much more formidable rising in the Northwest. But in the present case they were hampered by their dependence on the British troops, whose commander moved them with all the ponderous slowness of real war, and approached O'Neill as if he had been approaching Napoleon. He thus managed to get in a day after the fair on every occasion, being too late for the fight at Ridgeway, and too late to capture any considerable number of the flying Fenians at Fort Erie. The campaign, on the Canadian side, was