Jesse James' Bold Stroke
The Double Bank Robbery
9781465643971
213 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
Look! Look! The cry was uttered by the foremost of a little band of horsemen riding slowly in single file over the rocky bed of what had once been a raging torrent. Darkness was descending over the canyon-traversed wilds of Southern Colorado and the air was hot and still. Towering high above them, sinister and awesome in the half light rose solid walls of rock. And as the leader of the little band had rounded a jutting crag, he beheld a sight that had brought the startled cry to his lips. Far down the canyon, two fires glowed, seeming, in the darkness, like the luminous eyes of some wild monster. Roused by the exclamation of their companion, the others drew rein, peering intently ahead of them. Footsore and weary, for they had travelled fast and far during the day that was just drawing to a close, the jaded horses stood, with heads hanging low, while their riders stared ahead of them. "Them's either signal fires or camp fires," grunted one of the men, after a careful study of the brilliant lights. "Ain't you the wise lad, though," snorted another. "You talk as though we were tenderfeet. Any fool knows they're camp or signal fires. "It's which of the two they are that counts. Tell us that and you'll be saying something." "Well, Comanche Tony's the laddy buck who can find out," snapped the man who had first espied the glaring fires, slipping from his saddle. And without heeding the protests of the others, he glided away, soon being lost to sight among the rocks. The little band of horsemen were none other than Jesse James' notorious gang of outlaws. After their sensational hold-ups of the Overland Stages in the Devil's Burying Ground, the last one of which had been done under the very noses of a troop of United States cavalrymen, the outlaws had headed for Arizona. Hiding in caves and riding by night they had eluded the troopers and, at last, in the belief that they had outdistanced their pursuers, they had relaxed their caution, continuing their flight by day instead of under cover of darkness. Consequently, when the member of the desperate gang of cut throats who was in the lead had caught sight of the fires, they were struck with consternation. "It doesn't seem possible them sojers could have ridden round us," exclaimed Bob Moore, as Comanche Tony disappeared on his reconnaissance. And this statement voiced the opinion of the others. "No, it doesn't," returned the bandit-chieftain. "But you can't tell. Maybe they've sent word to one of the forts to the south of us and they've sent out a searching party." "Phew! That would be tough!" gasped Sam Dirks. "We'd be between two fires, sojers in front of us and sojers behind us. It would take some figurin' on your part, Jess, to get us out." The fact was so patent that the leader of the outlaws made no comment. Well he realized the danger such a contingency would mean, yet till his trusted pal had returned from his scouting expedition, he could make no plans. Finding that they could not draw their chief out, the others whispered among themselves for a while, finally lapsing into silence. Steadily the two fires, that had so startled them, burned. Once or twice, some of the bandits thought they beheld figures moving about them. But the fancied forms disappeared so suddenly that they could not be sure. "Seems as though it was taking Tony an all-fired long time," growled Wild Bill, glancing about him, uneasily. But scarcely had the words left his lips than a piercing shriek rent the air. "That's Tony!" "Suthin's happened to him!" "He's caught!" ejaculated the startled bandits. With a burst of sulphurous profanity, Jesse slid from his horse. "Whatever has happened, we must go to him," he snapped. "Frank, you and Sam stay here with the horses. The rest of you come with me. Be lively now!" Yet before the desperadoes were out of their saddles, they received still another surprise.
