"Open an' tip it out," Bundy ordered, and when the fellow hesitated, jammed a six-shooter into his ribs.
This produced immediate action, the sacks were untied and up-ended, but no wooden box was forthcoming.
"Like I said, she ain't there," the train-man unwisely remarked.
"Can't I see? you -- yella dawg's pup. Go an' look some more, blast you," Bundy snarled.
With a savage swing he drove a fist behind the man's ear, flinging him, face downwards and well-nigh senseless, into the pile of flour, and went out. Flint was waiting for him, and a call brought Garstone. A few words revealed the position, and the big man's face--could they have seen it--might have caused trouble; it expressed only incredulity and rage.
"Are you asking me to believe that?" he cried involuntarily.
"Please yoreself," Bundy snapped. "Go search the train an' question those lunkheads, if you want."
"But it's impossible--only we three knew, unless ..."
"Unless what?"
"That other fellow, who was to have a thousand, got a better offer and sold us."
"Well, he didn't, an' he's losin' his too," the foreman retorted. "He dasn't play tricks on me--I know too much about him. Somebody's got in ahead of us, either by accident, or because they heard somethin'. I'm for home; no good hangin' about here."
Three very disgruntled would-be train-robbers, each deeply suspicious of the others, climbed into their saddles and disappeared in the shadowy recesses of the pines. Once more the train went on its eventful way.
About the same time the rider of a black horse got down outside the bank in Sandy Bend, took from behind his saddle a box which seemed to be weighty and a small bag. Stepping inside, he asked to see the manager.
"What name shall I say?" the clerk enquired.
"Please yoreself, he won't know it anyway," the stranger smiled. "Just say it's real important."
After a short wait he was ushered into the private office. The manager, middle-aged, with an astute face and keen eyes, pointed to a chair.
"Have a seat, Mister --. I failed to catch your name."
"That ain't surprisin'--I didn't give it," Sudden smiled. "My business is on'y to hand over somethin' I reckon belongs to yu."
He placed the box on the desk, and the banker's eyebrows rose. "It certainly does," he replied. "But you are not working for the railway?"
"I am, an' I ain't," the puncher said. "An', anyway, the train don't 'pear to 'a' come in yet. Yu came mighty close to losin' them--ca'tridges."
"I don't understand."
"Well, last night, me an' a couple o' friends chanced to learn of a plan to hold up the train this mornin'--the fellas was short o' feed for their guns, I expect." The story-teller's eyes were alight with mirth. "We hadn't much time, an' the on'y wagon-trail out we could hit on was to stage a stick-up ourselves--sorta forestall 'em, as it were--an' fetch the plunder to yu."
The manager stared. "That was a clever but very daring expedient," he said.
"Oh, I dunno, the odds are allus in favour o' the holdups," Sudden replied. "Yu see, they have the advantage o' springin' a surprise, an' the fellas on the train are covered afore they know it."
"you talk like an expert."
"I've studied the subject," the puncher grinned. "Fella can't tell what he may come to."
"Your knowledge seems to have served you well on this occasion. You had no trouble?"
"It was like money from the of folks at home," the puncher said easily. "There's one thing, we had to make it look right an' clean the passengers too. I told 'em to call here for their property--it's all in the small sack. Mebbe yu'll 'tend to that?"
"Most willingly," the manager replied, and laughed. "So the other gang must have held up a stripped train? The joke was certainly on them. Now, see here, my friend, you and your companions have rendered the bank and the railway a great service, and I wish--"
"It don't need speakin' of," Sudden interrupted. "We put this over for personal reasons, an' that's all there is to it."
The banker was studying him keenly. "I'm perfectly certain I've seen you before, and recently," he observed.
"No, seh, yu ain't seen me afore, nor even now," the visitor replied meaningly.
"Well, it shall be as you say, but if at any time I can help you, count on me."
"I'm thankin' yu," Sudden said, gripping the hand extended. At the door he turned. "Mebbe I oughta tell yu that the record o' the numbers o' them ca'tridges will be found--missin'."
He was gone before the astounded manager could say another word. An examination of the box revealed the expected gold and notes; in the bag were jewellery, bills, and small change. The banker scratched his head; in all his experience of the West, he had never heard of a prank like this.
The last drop in Bundy's cup of bitterness was added when he met his employer in the afternoon.
"I sent Rattray in to the Bend with the wagon to collect some flour I ordered from Washout," Trenton said. "It was to be on the ten-fifteen, and he should be back by this. Seen anythin' of it?"
The foreman said he had not, which, as he now knew, was a lie; not only had he seen it, scattered all over the dirty floor of a baggage-car, but he had sent a man squattering into the middle of it. The reminder of the chance they had missed seared like a hot iron, and when he was alone he told the world exactly what he thought of it in a flood of abuse which only ceased when a swift suspicion came and gave the Recording Angel an opportunity of re-charging his fountain pen.
Was it by accident that the Wagon-wheel flour was on that particular train? Had Trenton learned of their plan and made his own move to checkmate it? Bundy swore he would find out, and he finished with a blistering promise of vengeance.
Chapter XI
The news of the attacks on the train travelled fast, and soon reached Rainbow; the passengers had chattered freely of their unusual experience. Speculation as to the real reason for the quixotic behaviour of the first gang of bandits, and witticisms at the expense of the second, were on the lips of everyone. It therefore resulted that the Wagon-wheel foreman and his confederates had salt unwittingly rubbed into their wounds at frequent intervals. The identity of the actors in the comedy was still unsuspected, for the banker and his clerk both described the person who had returned the stolen property as just an ordinary cowboy. This did not satisfy Bundy, and two days after the event he made the journey to the Bend in the hope of discovering something.
During a round of the saloons, he heard himself ridiculed and had to agree that he was a blundering fool so often, as to make him wish he had not come, especially as he had learned nothing. But, at last, when on the point of giving up, and in a drinking hovel of the lowest type, he was rewarded. The talk was on the one topic, and for about the tenth time in various places he had said:
"Beats me how that fella could ride into a town like this, in broad daylight, an' git away unnoticed. Ain't all blind in the Bend, are you?"
"Not that early in the day," laughed a bystander.
"An' it warn't quite like that neither," chirped a dried-up old fellow. "I seen his hoss--leastways, I reckon it was his'n the time fits--standin' outside the bank."
Bundy tried to appear indifferent. "Did ye now? What kind of a hoss was it?"
"Big rangy black, with a white blaze on the face; mustang breed, I'd say; a fine critter," the old man replied. "Worth a fortun' to a road-agent."
The foreman needed no more; there could be only one such horse in all the district. He came out of the dive afire with a fury which increased with every mile of the long ride home. So it was Green and two of the Circle Dot outfit who had cheated him--for so he regarded it. Had they kept the money it would have hurt less, but to be outplayed and made an object of derision by men he hated, cut him to the bone. Once, dismounting, he stood for a few seconds in a half-crouch, then snatched out his gun and sent the six shots in rapid succession at a thin sapling a dozen yards distant. Stepping to the tree, he noted that every bullet had chipped the bark at the same height. Reloading the weapon, he got back into the saddle, his teeth bared in a Satanic grin of satisfaction.