The Gold Hunters' Adventures Part 99

They worked for a few seconds, and after a match was lighted and thrust into the pile of kindlings, and then the incendiaries crawled towards us as fast as possible, for the purpose of escaping, and getting clear of the flames, which already began to shoot up and crackle, as they gathered headway.

CHAPTER LI.

ATTEMPT TO BURN THE STORE.

As the heads of the incendiaries emerged from beneath the building, and even before they had time to gain a footing, we threw ourselves upon them, and pinned them to the earth in despite of the powerful struggles which they made to escape; failing in which, their hands sought for their knives, but we saw the movement, and succeeded in defeating it.

"Yield in peace," cried Fred, "or you will fare worse," addressing his antagonist, the Irishman, who replied with an oath, and a fierce thrust of a long knife.

"Is that your grat.i.tude?" continued Fred, who easily avoided the meditated blow. "Then I will begin in earnest."

He drew his revolver from his pocket, and struck his opponent a heavy blow on his temple. The Irishman uttered a groan, and remained motionless, and then Fred rushed towards me to see what a.s.sistance I needed; but I fortunately required none, for the man I had taken charge of, after being frustrated in his attempt to use his knife, remained perfectly quiet, and appeared disposed to surrender on as good terms as he could make.

"Never mind me," I cried, as Fred joined me; "I will take charge of this fellow, and blow his brains out if he makes an attempt to escape.

Extinguish the fire before it gains headway, and don't, above all things, raise an alarm."

Fred crawled under the building, and in a few seconds had scattered the firebrands so that all danger was pa.s.sed, and in the latter work Smith and Murden rendered good service; for the lieutenant quickly had a couple of buckets of water on hand, which he had brought from our "sink hole," and in a very few minutes all traces of the fire were destroyed.

"Have you got the scamp?" asked Murden, crawling from his confined quarters, where he had been nearly strangled with smoke.

"This fellow appears to be quiet enough," I answered, turning my prisoner over on his back, so that I could see his face.

"Is he?" asked the fellow in a sarcastic tone; and quick as lightning he started to his feet, and I saw a long knife flash in the starlight, and before I could spring aside he aimed it full at my breast.

In another instant I should have been a dead man, but, fortunately, Murden saw the move, and struck the ruffian's arm up, and the knife pa.s.sed over my shoulder harmless. The next instant my prisoner was measuring his length on the hard ground, with blood spirting from his nose and mouth, the effects of a tremendous blow, which the lieutenant delivered full upon his unprotected face.

"Lie there, you d----d midnight incendiary," cried the officer, indignant to think that he wished to add murder to his other crimes.

The wretch only groaned in reply; but Murden, thinking that he was shamming, slipped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists, and then served the Irishman, whom Fred had rendered tongue-tied by a blow from his revolver, in the same manner.

"A neat pair of handcuffs is an ornament that disgraces no one, while they add to a person's security eighty per cent. There is, to be sure, a slight prejudice against having them on in unmixed company, but it is astonis.h.i.+ng how soon the feeling wears off. Next to a good revolver, believe me, a pair of handcuffs is a policeman's best friend."

While the lieutenant was speaking, he gave the prostrate Irishman a kick with his heavy boot, as an ill.u.s.tration of his argument perhaps, and the blow was sufficient to restore the fellow to his senses.

"Holy St. Patrick, it's murdering me, ye are," he exclaimed.

"No, but we intend to, unless you inform us who hired you to set fire to our store," rejoined Fred.

The fellow maintained a profound silence, and Murden was about to repeat his blow when Fred checked him.

"No more kicks," he said; "they have been punished sufficiently already, and we must now try what effect kindness will have on them."

"I'll try the effect of a stout halter," cried the angry officer; but Fred was resolute, and refused to allow them to be punished.

Our prisoners listened to the words that pa.s.sed between the lieutenant and Fred, and I could see by the bright starlight that astonishment was plainly visible upon their faces. It was evident that they expected different treatment.

"Let us take them into the store, and there we can examine them at leisure," Fred said; and as the idea met our approval, we helped them to stand upon their feet, and then escorted them into the building, where we lighted our candles, and after wiping some of the congealed blood from their faces, we examined their countenances to see if we had ever met them before in Ballarat.

"Where have we seen you before?" Fred asked, addressing the Irishman.

The man hung his head and refused to reply; and he even appeared to act as though ashamed of his conduct.

"I can tell you where we have met him before," I remarked. "Don't you remember the Irishman whose wounds you dressed on the second night of your arrival, and who swore that he would yet live to reward you?"

Fred nodded, and his face grew dark with pa.s.sion.

"Well, this is the person. He was dest.i.tute of money and credit, and to save his life we spent many hours in cleansing his injuries, and dressing them with care. He has already attempted to pay us his debt of grat.i.tude, and perhaps when he is again sick he will visit us."

"You miserable apology for a man," cried Murden, raising his arm, and the fellow cowered at the threatened blow; but Fred interposed, and stopped the impetuous officer from carrying his intention into effect.

"What excuse have you to offer for plotting against us?" demanded Fred, addressing the Irishman.

"I was poor, and wanted food," he returned, with a face of shame.

"Why did you not come to me, and I would have supplied your wants? It is but a poor return to attempt to burn us out for the attention that we showed you. Is your heart made of stone?"

"I was told that you two was plotting agin the miners concerning the tax, and that it would be a good thing to ruin ye, and make ye lave the country," answered the Irishman, not daring to raise his downcast glances from the floor.

"And the miners hired both of you to commence the war of burning, did they?" asked Fred.

"No, not the miners," returned the man, "although they think that you is agin 'um, and that you had better move. A man, whose name we don't know, gave us five pounds to set the place on fire."

"You are lying, and we know it," retorted Fred. "Tell us who paid you the money, or you will fare badly," he continued, in a stern tone of voice.

The incendiary stammered, and looked towards his accomplice, as though uncertain what to say, and while hesitating, the latter exclaimed:

"It is useless to mince matters, Pat--we are in a fix, and have got to make the most of it. We belong to a secret league, whose object is to resist paying the taxes imposed by government upon miners, and hearing that you were with the government, we determined to clip your claws, and prevent you from doing mischief. If your store had taken fire, we might have made a few pounds by plunder, but as for receiving five pounds, or any money for the work, it's all sham, and Pat knows it. We talked the matter over with a dozen or so, and agreed to do the business. That's all about it, and you may make the most of it, and hand us over to the police as soon as you please."

The ruffian spoke in as free and easy a manner as though he had been engaged in some meritorious work, instead of a piece of black villany.

"You did not know, then, that we were opposed to the government on the tax question, and that while we determined to take no part in the struggle, we sympathized with the miners?" inquired Fred.

"One of the men to whom we talked said as much," answered the fellow, "but we did not pay any attention to him, and neither do I believe it now."

"Then let this convince you," exclaimed Fred, taking the key of the irons from Murden's hand, and unlocking the handcuffs. "There, you are free. Go and tell the dissatisfied miners that we will never plot against them, although it is probable that we shall not take up arms in their defence. We are traders, and have done with fighting, and wish to remain neutral."

The fellows stared in unfeigned astonishment at Fred, and then around the store, as though hardly convinced that they had heard the welcome intelligence.

"Is your honor serious?" asked the Irishman.

"Quite so--go; but if another attempt is made to burn us out, we have weapons that we know how to use. Say so to those with whom you plotted."

"I won't say that I'm sorry for what I've done, 'cos no great harm has happened any how," said the Englishman, who appeared to possess more of an education than his companion; "but I'll say this--had we burned your store down, and then learned that you was not agin us, I should have felt bad, and would have tried to right it in some way. We are poor devils at best, and ain't got much in common, but we are all liable to make mistakes, and so we supposed that we were really doing something for the cause."

"It's little I thought it was ye," said the Irishman, who seemed determined also to offer an excuse. "Faith, had I known it was the two rael gintlemen who healed me sores, it's little I'd thought of setting ye on fire. Long lives to ye, and don't be afraid of bad luck after this. It's Paddy O'Shea who will fight for ye to the longest day that he lives."